#is it better to know when something is the last time? so that you can savor it?

[rafayelxsylusho]

This was created because I'm ovulating and I was inspired by this art (link here).

What happens when you catch each LI humping a pillow? 🥵🥵

FOLLOW EKAY!!! art is amazing!!!

Full pictures are on Bluesky and X.

"What the hell?" That definitely sounded like Caleb, but the way he called your name was different. Not playful or teasing like usual. It was raw, desperate, almost pained. For a moment you think Caleb must have heard you come home and is calling for you from the kitchen. But the sound comes again, louder and it's clear something is very wrong.

You freeze on the stairs, hand tightening on the railing as you realize the noise is coming from upstairs.

Against your better judgment, you find yourself moving up the stairs, footsteps silent on the carpeted steps. You creep closer to his bedroom door, which is slightly open. You hear him grunt, followed by the creaking of bedsprings. Your stomach twists into knots as you push the door open a little wider, peeking inside.

The sight that greets you steals the breath from your lungs. 

Caleb, is on his knees on the bed, holding with both hands a pillow that is clutched tightly between his legs. His abs flex and tense with each thrust of his hips, the defined lines of his six pack glistening with a sheen of sweat.

A deep moan tears from his throat, your name falling from his lips like a prayer and a plea all at once. "Y/N..." he grunts with a sharp buck of his hips. The metal dog tag you gave him, the one he never takes off, swings and clanks against his chest with every movement.

His face is flushed a deep red, eyes open in concentration as he loses himself in his own twisted fantasy. His dark brown hair falls messily over his forehead, a few damp strands clinging to his skin. He looks lost in his own world, chasing some dark desire that you can only imagine involves you.

You stand there frozen, feeling a confusing mix of shock and embarrassment. You know you should look away, give him privacy, but you can't seem to tear your eyes from the sight of him so consumed by lust.

His breathing comes in ragged pants, chest heaving as he continues to grind against the pillow.

You don't know whether to be flattered, terrified, or turned on. Probably all three. But most of all, you are stunned. You had no idea Caleb was this intense.

The sound of the pillow rubbing against his heavy balls up to the tip of his cock, already slick with precum, makes you squeeze your thighs together.

"Fuck, pipsqueak..." Caleb grunts, "You feel so fucking good, baby. So tight and perfect around my cock." He gives a sharp thrust and the pillowcase darkens with his precum.

His filthy whispers fill the room, painting a vivid picture of the act he wishes he was performing on you. "Gonna fill this sweet little pussy up. Pump you so full of my cum, you'll be dripping with it for days."

Your cheeks flush hotly at his words. You've never heard Caleb speak like this before. It's raw, it's real, and it's terrifyingly intense. A dark shiver runs through you as you imagine him saying those things to you, doing those things to you.

Caleb seems to be chasing something, a release he desperately needs. His grip on the pillow tightens, knuckles turning white as he holds on for dear life. The bed frame creaks beneath him, "Fuck, I need it... I need you... Gonna cum... Gonna fucking cum..." he snarls, hips jerking erratically now. The pillow case is thoroughly soaked, the spreading dark patch testifying to his desperation.

A gasp escapes you as you take an unconscious step forward, the door swings open a bit more. In that same moment, Caleb's head snaps up, eyes flying open wide as he realizes he's no longer alone.

But it's too late. Far too late to stop the inevitable. With a deep moan that echoes off the walls, Caleb's back arches as he finds his release. His hips jerk forward one last time, and thick ropes of pearly white cum erupt from his cock, splattering obscenely across his stomach and chest.

Some of it even reaches his flushed cheek, a single strand dangling from his jawline as he pants harshly, struggling to catch his breath. His pelvis is glazed with his cum, the patch of hair there dripping with his seed.

For a moment, time seems to stand still. Caleb stares at you, eyes blazing with emotions, shock, embarrassment, but above all, hunger. It's like he's seeing straight into your soul and you are frozen in place, your own breath coming in shallow gasps. You don't know what to say, what to do. You are not sure if you should run, scream, or...god help you...take a step closer and let him pull you into his arms.

So you do the only thing you can think of.  You step out of the room, you let the door swing shut behind you with a soft click. Your heart pounds wildly in your chest as you stand there, back pressed against the closed door. You can still picture the look on his face, the raw need that contorted his features. It will be burned into you mind forever.

How can we go back to the way things were after this? 

Your heart skips a beat as you hear an unfamiliar noise coming from Sylus' room. It sounds like...grunting? You pause midstep, standing still just outside his bedroom door.

There's a strange, rhythmic creaking of bedsprings that makes your brows furrow. What on earth is Sylus doing in there at this hour, especially if he's not a morning person? You've never heard him make noises like that before. Perhaps surprising him like this wasn't the best idea after all.

You open the door slowly, maybe he is having a nightmare you tell yourself. Your heart lurches into your throat, eyes widening in shock. He is not having a nightmare, but something far more...intense. He's kneeling on the bed, gripping a pillow tightly between his thighs. The way his arm clutches it, fingers digging into the fabric, suggests a desperate, almost feral need.

His other hand is fisted in the sheets behind him, knuckles white from the force of his grip. The bed creaks and sways with his movements, the rocking of his hips unmistakable even in the dim light. He's panting, low grunts and growls rumbling from his chest as he grinds himself against the pillow, chasing his pleasure.

Shock roots you to the spot, hand still on the door handle. He's looking down at his throbbing cock, watching it, each slow thrust. His hips roll slowly at first, the movement controlled as he builds towards his peak.

"Fuck, kitten," he grunts, "You take me so deep, all the way into that tight little throat. That's it, open wider, take every fucking inch..."

You feel heat between your legs at the sound of his filthy words, arousal dampening the fabric of your panties

Suddenly, his thrusts turn quick and desperate, the arm gripping the bed slipping a bit. The sound of the pillowcase rubbing against him and the slap of his cock against his stomach fill the room. Beads of precum smear across his skin with each thrust.

You can't look away, even as your cheeks burn and your core throbs with need. You know Sylus is seconds away from coming, his thrusts becoming desperate.

He is fully lost now head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut, you bite your lip hard, stifling the moan that threatens to spill out. You are not even touching yourself but you can feel your body responding to his fantasy as if it were real. As if you were the one on your knees, choking on his thick cock, gagging for his seed.

You gasp softly as he orgasms, his long moan of "Take it all, kitten... suck me dry" echoing through the room. The sight of his hot cum splattering across his stomach and staining the sheets is shockingly erotic.

There's so much of it. Thick, creamy ropes of cum paint his skin and the pillow beneath him. You can't help but picture how it would feel, the weight of it heavy and warm on your tongue, sliding down your throat. The thought makes your mouth water.

His cock pulses and throbs as he rides out his orgasm, spurting the last few weak drops of cum onto the pillow. His chest heaves as he catches his breath, arm gripping the sheets trembling slightly.

You are about to close his door when you hear his voice again. You freeze, hand still on the door handle, as he speaks.

"You, watching me, made this much more pleasurable, kitten. Don't walk away now."

You should have known you couldnt slip away unnoticed.

Fuck

Three weeks, that's how long you were on a mission and apart from him.

When you open the front door and walk in you notice the house is quiet, too quiet, as you set your bag down by the shoe rack, kicking off your boots.

Your heart flutters with anticipation as you tiptoe down the hallway, the wooden floorboards creaking softly beneath your feet. The early morning sunlight peeks through the curtains, casting a warm glow across the house as you approach the slightly open bedroom door.

"Y/n...fuuuuuuuck"

He couldn't be...was he?

He was.

Your mouth falls open in shock when you see Zayne. He's on his hands and knees on the bed, a pillow placed between his legs. One hand grips the pillow tightly, holding it firmly against his body as he slowly thrusts his hips, his hard cock trapped between the pillow and his pelvis.

His other hand clutches the bedsheets in front of him like a lifeline. His black hair falls forward, hiding his eyes as his broad shoulders rise and fall with each breath. The room is filled with the soft, rhythmic sound of the bed creaking with his movements and the stifled groans that escape his lips. The sight of his muscular back moving with each thrust sends a shiver down your spine and ignites a fire low in your belly.

You realize that he's not just turned on, but he's already found his release once, the pillowcase, now soaked with his essence, testifies to it. He's using the damp fabric, slick with his cum, to bring himself to the brink again.

His cock, the tip an angry, almost painful shade of red, pulses and throbs with need. His balls draw up tight, and his toes curl.

His face, usually so stoic and controlled, is flushed and you can tell he's on the very edge of another orgasm. Your heart pounds wildly as you watch him chase his release, his hips moving more urgently now. His hand claws at the sheets, bunching the fabric in his fist.

Your own body responds with a deep throb of desire. You can feel the dampness pooling between your thighs, the way your nipples strain against the fabric of your bra. But you remain still, a silent witness to the intimate moment, not wanting to startle him.

He yanks the pillow closer, using it for more friction, more stimulation. "Fuck..." he growls "Always so fucking tight... such a dirty girl...making me cum twice"

Contrary to before, he doesn't hold back his noises this time. A guttural moan, tears from his throat as he finds his release. It's followed by a litany of curses, each one punctuated by the jerking of his hips and the pulsing of his cock.

"Fuck... shit... damn..." he growls, "Take it... take my fucking cum..." You are sure the sight of him losing control, surrendering to the overwhelming pleasure, will be seared into your mind forever.

You step into the room and walk towards Zayne, eyes drinking in the sight of him, back glistening with sweat, his hips still twitching with the aftershocks of his climax. As you approach him, he slowly turns his head, his eyes blinking in surprise and confusion as they meet yours. He's still gripping the sheets and pillow tightly.

Without hesitation, you reach out and swipe a finger along the tip of his softening cock, collecting the pearly drops of his release that cling to the sensitive skin. Then you bring your finger to your mouth, keeping eye contact with him as you slowly lick it clean, savoring the salty, slightly bitter taste of him.

"Surprise, honey," you say softly, a playful smirk playing at the corners of your mouth. "I'm home early."

You sigh softly as you remember the last time you saw Rafayel, just a few days ago. He had been absorbed in his painting, hunched over a large canvas propped up in his art studio.

You open his front door and walk inside, a basket of freshly prepared food tucked under your arm. You walk to his studio but he is not in there.

An unusual sound drifting down from upstairs makes you stop in place. It's a soft, strangled noise.

Was that a whimper?

Your brows furrow with concern and you set the basket of food down quietly on the staircase, not wanting to disturb whatever may be happening, but unwilling to ignore what sounds like distress.

Climbing the stairs quietly you approach Rafayel's bedroom door. The whimpering grows louder, now unmistakable. Your hand hovers over the doorknob and you take a deep breath, slowly turning the doorknob. As you push the door open just a bit, you peek through to see Rafayel.

It's not his face flushed a deep shade of red that extends to the tips of his ears or the sweat dripping down his chest that makes your heart skip a beat. It's the way he's positioned on the bed, with a pillow clutched tightly between his legs, his hips rocking and rutting against it with desperate, needy thrusts. His left hand gripping the pillow tightly, keeping it firmly in place as his other hand braces against the mattress, holding himself up.

Desperate whimpers and whines spill from his lips as he grinds his hips against the pillow, his eyes screwed shut in a mix of pleasure and what looks like anguish.

Rafayel pulls the pillow closer, the tip of his cock becomes visible with each thrust. It disappears and reappears, glistening with precum as he thrust against the fabric. It makes your face flush hotly, your eyes going wide as you instinctively press a hand to your mouth to stifle any sound.

"Please... please cutie... let me cum..." Rafayel whimpers "Please, I need it so bad... I can't... I can't hold back anymore..." You've only witnessed him in this state once before, and the memory of that intimate moment together flashes through your mind. The raw need in his eyes as he begged you to let him find release within your warmth and tightness.

A single tear of frustration trickles down his flushed cheek, glistening in the soft light. His abs clench and flex with each thrust against the pillow. "Fuck... I can ... smell her..." he chokes out, his voice breaking with need. The pillow is now soaked with his sweat and the weeping tip of his cock.

It's clear that Rafayel is thinking of you, craving you, desperate to fill you and but he is also having trouble reaching his peak, so you decide to help.

You walk softly towards the bed, as you approach, his thrusts against the pillow falter, then stop altogether. He looks up at you with wide, teary eyes, his cheeks burning an even deeper shade of red.

That's when you see the raw vulnerability and need in his expression, the way he's stripped bare of all his usual composure and confidence. It's both humbling and deeply intimate, a rare glimpse into the true depth of his desire for you.

Sitting down gently beside him on the bed, you lean in close, your lips nearly brushing the shell of his ear and in a soft, encouraging whisper, you breathe out the words:

"Keep going, Raf. Cum for me."

Those three simple words, spoken with such gentle encouragement, seem to be the final push Rafayel needs. His eyes flutter closed, a look of pure bliss spreading across his face.

With a hoarse cry of your name, Rafayel's body goes rigid, his hips jerking forward as he finds his much needed release. Thick, hot ropes of his cum spurt from his fat cock, coating the pillow and his hand as he grips it with white knuckles.

"Such a good boy, Raf," you coo softly, reaching out to gently brush a damp lock of hair from his forehead. Your touch makes him shiver, his eyes fluttering open to meet yours.

You're glad you brought food, because you know you will both need it after the long day and night ahead of you.

You slip the key he gave you into the lock and turn it slowly, easing the door open as quietly as possible. The apartment is dimly lit and you can hear the gentle hum of the refrigerator and the distant sound of traffic, but otherwise, it's quiet.

Closing the door behind you, you pad softly into the kitchen. You have a plan, start on breakfast, then wake him so he can eat something. He's probably exhausted from his mission, and you want to make sure he has a nice, relaxing morning. Maybe he forgot you were supposed to have breakfast together this morning.

You open the fridge and start gathering ingredients, eggs, bacon, some fresh fruit. You had found a recipe online that looked delicious and you thought he might enjoy it.

The sound of something slamming softly against the wall grabs your attention. Concerned you walk towards his bedroom, leaving the ingredients on the kitchen counter, the sound growing louder with each step. Gently you turn the doorknob and ease the door to his bedroom open, just a little bit at first. But once you open it a little bit more the sight that greets you makes your breath catch in your throat.

Xavier is sprawled naked on his back, body bathed in the soft glow of the lights filtering through the window. His legs are bent, knees up and feet flat on the bed. Nestled between his thighs is a pillow, and you can see his hips rocking slowly, rubbing the pillow against his lenght.

Your gaze is drawn to his cock, standing proud against his stomach. You can see pearly drops of precum dripping from the swollen, flushed tip, trailing down and pooling in his abdomen.

Unconsciously you lick your lips, imagining the taste of his skin, the feel of his body against yours.

Xavier grips the pillow tightly with both hands. His long fingers dig into the fabric as he pulls on both sides, tightening the pillow around his throbbing cock. The soft material squeezes his shaft, providing a delicious friction that has him gritting his teeth.

You can see the desperation in the way he's chasing his pleasure, the hunger that drives him to seek more, always more. His eyes are clenched shut, lost in a world of sensation and desire. A part of you wonders what he's thinking about, what fantasies are playing out behind his closed lids to have him so worked up. 

You don't have to wait long for an answer.

"Fuck, bunny..." he grunts, voice breathless. "You feel so fucking good...ngh...take it all, just like that. Squeeze me... You ride me sooooo good... fuck, you're so tight...so perfect..."

There's no doubt about it now, in his mind, he's with you, lost in a fantasy starring none other than yourself.

His words dissolve into a moan, the sound vibrating through his chest. The signs of his impending orgasm are unmistakable. His thrusts become erratic, the grip on the pillow tightening. His breathing grows ragged and shallow, each inhale ending on a sharp grunt or a moan. The muscles in his thighs and stomach tense and flex.

"Fuck,... I'm... I'm so close... Ah, shit..." Xavier pants. He throws his head back, hair splaying out around him like a halo. "Don't stop...! don't you dare fucking stop..."

And in his head you don't stop because the next second he comes undone. His back arches sharply, pressing himself against the pillow, as thick ropes of hot, sticky cum spurt from his throbbing cock.

The headboard slams against the wall with the force of his thrusts, the rhythmic banging keeping time with the throbbing pulses of his release.

His chest heaves as he struggles to catch his breath. The pillow is a mess, soaked through with his release. He collapses back onto the bed, a blissful smile playing at the corners of his lips.

For a moment, you're stunned speechless, hardly believing this really happened. Did he really just...?

Before you can overthink it, Xavier's head turns towards the door, his piercing blue gaze locking onto you. A slow, lazy smile spreads across his face, the smirk of a predator who's just spotted his prey.

"Come here, y/n," he purrs, "I noticed you were there before I came, but I wanted to keep the show going for you."

Of course he noticed you standing there, his hunter's instincts always on high alert. It's no wonder he's the best deepspace hunter. Now all you had to do was walk to him.

Easy...right?

[humanjarvis]

saw this tweet saying caleb is so submissive he’ll dom mc if that’s what she wants from him and had to write about it in light of his affinity 105 secret times.

like. he’s never gonna straight-up tell you what to do. never gonna give you the answers to his lewd ambiguities. he’ll tease and taunt and goad and nudge and make you figure it out yourself (that way he can praise you for it) 

so. that part of fiery embrace. he draws you in with the lure: “i’ve been using your favorite body wash. it was when…you were away for that intensive training course. we couldn’t even talk on the phone or do video calls.” 

his voice drips with mockery, a promise that he’s taking you somewhere you’re not sure if you want to go. but against your better judgment, you take the bait and ask what he’s implying. 

he looks down briefly as if considering something, decides on it, then smirks back up at you. you hold your breath when the corners of his mouth rise.

his hand squeezes yours as it moves across his body, and he lifts it delicately, placing a falsely innocent kiss to your wrist as he levels you with a challenging look. “you already know.”

and you swear your insides burn. burn with shame and scandal and intrigue and outrage and lust. 

you’re so overwhelmed by him—by his nerve, by his gall, by his casual eroticism—that your soft, quick pants fan his face in gentle waves. 

and caleb knows. knows you better than you know yourself. of course he knows the effect his words will have on you—that’s why he says them.

so as lilac eyes track your every movement, caleb expects you to whine, to say he’s embarrassing you with his dirty acts. expects you to tell him to stop being mean, to make himself useful and help you. your flustered reaction, the way you paw at him like a conflicted cat, will tell him you caught his double meaning—you just don’t know what to do with it—and he’ll coo at you for being so smart, so good. and he expects to indulge you, because his timid little baby can’t face her big feelings. not without him to guide her through them.

so when you pounce on his relaxed body, nearly devouring his lips with yours, caleb’s startled gasp is music to your ears.

cradling his head in one hand, you push your mouth flush to his, fluidly changing angles to make sure all of him is in your grasp. as his large palms steady you on top of him, you swipe your tongue across his bottom lip, and he welcomes you in with a heady moan. 

your tongue flicks against his as you lap at his mouth, tasting and sucking and only slightly trying not to swallow him whole. 

you lose track of how long your lips are on his, and when he pulls away to breathe, you don't let him escape. you need him. need him to take the burn away after such a lewd admission. 

it’s only when you feel the swathing pressure of his evol tugging you back that you release him begrudgingly, watching him catch his breath with lust-filled eyes. 

“you—” he chuckles huskily, staring at you in wonderment. “you liked that, huh? naughty littl—”

his attempt to regain control of the situation is foiled when you regain control of his lips. 

this kiss has all the passion of the last, but as his groans and whimpers reach your ears, you slow your frantic pace. it’s sensual as it is fervent, now, with him reciprocating as best he can through shaky huffs of air. 

with a final stroke of his tongue, you gasp as you detach yourself a second time, whining as the string of saliva linking your swollen mouths snaps. with insatiable urgency, you bring your hands back to paw desperately at his bare chest. “i’m here now. can you use it again? please, caleb. wanna see you.” 

[imajinacxic888]

You only got kicked out of the library when it first happened, brain half-functioning after staying awake for more than 20 hours, an array of textbooks on your arms, the only coffee cup you managed to sneak out your part time job had long since wear off, you were just ready to get home and crash

Suddenly a person approached you, you couldn’t even make out their face but something in the way they carried themselves should’ve ringed a few alarm bells in your head that is if you could muster the brain capacity to care

“Hey, do you happen to know what year it is?” their accent was familiar but foreign at the same time, though you weren’t sure if it was for the lack of neurons working on your brain or not

It took a moment but once you finally registered the words the only coherent though you could come up with was ‘time traveler’, at the same time you remembered a promise you made with yourself long ago, in front of a tv with much static on it and you couldn’t really remember what show you were watching that prompted it but a promise was a promise after all

“Miss?” the stranger asked uncertain, you must have space out for a bit

“Last I checked April 20th 2012, the current president of the United States of America is Barack Obama, uhhhh the touch screen is getting pretty popular, what else… 127 people were killed when a plane crashed in a residential area near the Benazir Bhutto International Airport near Islamabad, Pakistan. And if I remember correctly Tens of thousands of people demonstrate in Tahrir Square against continuing military rule in Egypt.” You shrugged getting even more tired after having to retrieve that information from your memory “Anyway, hope I helped, I will take my lead then”

You don’t remember if the stranger said anything after that but what you do know is that by the time you closed the front door of your dorm you collapsed on the floor, only waking up the next day because your roommate couldn’t pass your body to get to her lecture

------

The second time it happened you were better rested but still not nearly enough to be completely healthy, but that wasn’t new,

On your way to the mall near your campus another stranger approached you, their clothes not so different from what you would see on the way to class, but they just had something that didn’t quite fit with your own

“Hello there, would you be so kind to tell me the date?” you still couldn’t quite place the accent but now it was clear that it wasn’t just your half functioning brain fault, the way they carried themselves was almost the same as the other fella you talked to, or so you think you can barely remember that interaction

“October 27, 2012, I don’t know the hour, the president is still Barack Obama, the touch screens are getting even more popular as are the 3d printing advances, when I checked the news, a protest was happening in Spain Thousands of people join protests budget cuts in Madrid and ask that the government quit. Riot police greet the demonstrators- Oh! Several injuries occurred as police used rubber-coated steel bullets and tear gas to disperse people at the Olympia Stadium in Rustenburg, South Africa. I don’t have much more than that though”

Now you could see how the gears in the stranger’s head were turning, they didn’t even bid you a farewell before sprinting to the station, later that day a major earthquake would hit Canada sending a tsunami to the north coast. You wonder what could’ve possibly changed after their interference

------

After it everything was the same old dance, sometimes they would catch you on the street, other times they enter the store you would be working at, you were never really sure if they put a tracker on you or you just happen to be at the right place in the right time but in anyway, they always would return,

You never saw the same people every time, but it made your day when you occasionally recognize the stranger that approached you

They were rare occasions when the person would curse under their breath before disappearing, those usually never returned

Even when you finally got a full-time job, they would drop by more times than it was worth counting,

After ensuring a place on your own the décor throughout your house was always calendars and different means to get the news that day, figuring that this had to be far more efficient than approaching a complete stranger on their daily life, you even went as far as leaving a small snack on the counter before you leaved to work, sometimes it was left there untouched but others the plate was in the rack and a little note was placed on the counter, you always made sure to date each one and hang them on a board in your kitchen

They still approached you from time to time, though those strangers where clearly new recruits as every single one of them were new faces to you, probably the senior members that you could recognize were the same ones that appeared directly on your home, you could also tell if they are even higher in rank because some even go as far as to leave a snack to replace the one they eat

It lets you feel included in some way, to know how they worked based on the way they less inconvenient the life of a random person, or so you thought

One day once you return home there was still someone inside, you prepared to fight the intruder as you know your unexpected friendly visitors don’t stay that long in your residence, however you could hardly belief the barely conscious person on your bathtub,

“Hey sorry to ask this, but I just needed to recharge the battery in this before I can return, you don’t mind that I intrude a little more, right?” they weren’t badly injured but it was clear that they were hanging to consciousness by a threat, nasty bruises all over their body and a forming black eye

“Uh… Sure, do you need anything?” you didn’t have any training for situations like these ones, but you hoped that the emergency kit on the cabinet would suffice

“Just… time-“ they blacked out, you almost burst out laughing had they not further injured their heads on the wall

You cleaned their wounds to the best of your ability while also wondering what exactly to do after, without much deliberation you managed to bring them to your bed, as it was the closest, and left them there while you prepared dinner, though it ended up with you sleeping in the guestroom as they didn’t stir much the whole afternoon

By the time the sun rose they had already left, leaving you a note near the glass of water you had brought them before going to sleep

You smiled and thought that would be the end of it but once you approached your kitchen the same stranger was there preparing a heavenly-looking breakfast, no injuries whatsoever on their body

“Hey! Slept well?” they greeted with a smile

“Yeah, actually I’ve been meaning to try out that bed, I can’t have my guest rest on an uncomfortable bed after all,” you shrugged, “How long where you gone?”

“The second I was cleared from the healers and approved to make a more personal travel,” suddenly they stopped the kitchen and turned to look at me directly in the eyes,” I wanted to thank you personally, you’ve probably meet one of my apprentices as this year was the last recorded date on their devise, long story short they used up all the energy on their device and I gave them mine when we were escaping, I recognized the year and made a gamble of staying here instead of risking being stuck in another time, by the way we are really grateful for your cooperation till date”

“Really it is no problem, it gives me something to look out for, plus it is interesting to see the differences between your ranks, I give only certain members know how you can just stop by in my home instead of going to me in my work?”

“hahahha yeah, the newest members can mess up the locations more often than not and I don’t think you would like to clean up after a stuck person in your wall?”

“I didn’t think I would need to clean up after time-travel strangers that get in sticky situations and use my house as a pit stop but here we are” I replied jokingly, “All good but give me a heads up next time so I at least can get previous training in case one of you appear with something more than bruises and a concussion”

“Wait, you weren’t trained before and they still put you as an individual of interest in the guide?” you shrugged “I guess you can count me as a heads up?” a glare sent their way was enough to suddenly remind them that you still haven’t eat and they turned to busy themselves

“I think it is pretty rude to put a random person on their guide without their knowledge first if you ask me” you pointed out making them drop the spoon they had in their hand turning to look at you with shock

“You mean that you aren’t-“

“As far as I know? No I’m not from the future or past, I’m from this present and have always been, I just promised myself that if I ever encountered a time-traveler I wouldn’t make a big deal out of it and well, I guess you can see were that brought me”

You once made a promise to yourself: if you ever met a time traveler, it wouldn't be a big deal. You’d tell them the date, the most important political conflict, a recent technology, and send them on their way. You now encounter a time traveler nearly every week.

[woantohae]

In my arms || (Bob Reynolds x reader)

Summary: The Thunderbolts are constantly on missions, busy trying to do good and save whoever they can. One of them was Bob Reynolds, the defenseless yet powerful man who is part of this team and family. However, he doesn't participate in these missions so he can continue practicing controlling his powers.

Despite telling them he's capable, the team prefers to give him more time to get used to them, until one mission, when a member of the team is injured. And all Bob can think about is the fury he feels when he hears Y/N being hurt. And how much he wants revenge on whoever did it.

content warnings: angst, he fell first and he fell harder, "avengers" tower, fluff, thunderbolts being a family, violence, curse words, SPOILERS FOR THUNDERBOLTS*, Yelena and Bob being like brother and sister, "touch her and you die" trope.

Author's note: I WATCHED THUNDERBOLTS*!!!! And let me tell you, it was better than i imagined. Honestly, it became one of my favorites and it can easily be in my top 3 of Marvel movies. I just can't describe the experience with enough words, but the waiting was totally worth it ✨️ AND THE POST CREDIT SCENE 👀 MARVEL ATE WITH THAT ONE.

With that being said, i'm excited to tell you that i'm gonna write more of Bob Reynolds 👉🏻👈🏻 So here you go, a one shot with him, wich contains a few spoilers of the movie. At this point our reader will be polaris lol.

Hope you like it and comment what do you think of this one 💌

Bob was getting used to the place.

What had once been Avengers Tower had now become his new "home." He had an incredible view of New York City, several rooms to hang out in, thousands of dishes and meals he'd never been able to prepare in his life, and the pleasant company he shared every day.

The team had made him feel comfortable and part of something worthwhile, despite what they'd gone through to get to this moment.

Bob still felt guilty about what happened when Void took control of him and darkened everything in its path, even when Yelena reminded him it wasn't his fault and that he wasn't alone. The blonde had become a trusted person for him and was always there when he needed her. He told her his secrets and how he felt, and the Russian always gave him advice or a word of encouragement. Even with the trust he had in her, he confided in her something he never thought would happen to him. Or rather, something he thought was impossible to happen in such a short time.

He was attracted to Y/N.

The girl whom his other self had caused to see horrible things from her past, the one who could move metal objects with a simple flick of her fingers, and the one who made his heart race and his cheeks blush. It was a feeling that consumed him every time he was near her or even thought about her.

And Yelena, being the good spy she was and good at reading people, knew how Bob felt about Y/N. She always encouraged him to get closer and talk to her more, but Bob simply couldn't do it. It was not that easy.

"It sounds easy," John says, after hearing the plan for carrying out the mission.

Bob shakes his head to return to reality and ignore such thoughts.

"Wait until we get there and they welcome us with open arms," ​​Bucky says, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"We still made it last time, and look at us here," Y/N replies, shrugging her shoulders.

Ava laughs and shakes her head.

"We'd better get moving," she says.

Bob looks at the group with hope in his eyes, but feels unsure about what he's gonna say.

"Can I come with you, guys?" he asks.

All heads turn to look at him with a mixture of surprise and sympathy for his question. They know he wants to help however he can, but after Void was under control and hadn't appeared for quite some time, they weren't so sure it was a good idea to expose him like that again.

"Bob..." Yelena begins to say.

Bob hurries to explain himself.

"I know what you're gonna say. But I think I'm ready, I know I can control it" Bob says with determination in his voice "I've been practicing and trying to talk to him, so maybe I can do it, today"

"We know, Bobby," says John, "But we must complete the mission without any mistakes or problems along the way."

The brunette looks down and clears his throat, nodding. He raises his gaze to smile and meet Y/N's gaze, who smiles back.

"No, no, I understand," he says dejectedly. "When the time is right, I can come with you."

Bucky pats his shoulder and Alexei gives him a thumbs-up. Despite their attempt to lift his spirits, he can't help but feel useless and without any reason to be in the group, other than washing dishes, tidying the place, or reading books he finds lying around.

He hates the feeling.

But it is what it is, right now. And he has to face it.

After the meeting to organize the plan, the group dispersed to look for the weapons and prepare the car in which they would go to the location. Bob watched from afar as the rest of them prepared, while playing with his fingers. He shifted his gaze to the large window overlooking the city and didn't feel Y/N's presence approaching him.

"Hey," she said in a soft tone.

Bob turned his head to look at her and smiled delightedly.

"Hey," she asked.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

He nods and laughs softly, pretending to be okay and swallowing the feeling that bothered him.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine"

The girl mimics his smile and stares at him, while Bob feels the heat spread to his cheeks.

"Hey, how about we watch a movie when I get back?" she offers, patting his arm to get his attention.

Bob smiles.

"I was actually thinking it could be a movie night with just us. If you like that idea," Y/N says, crossing her arms and shrugging her shoulders with a smile on her face.

"A movie would be nice. I think it would be fun to have a movie night with the rest of the team," he says awkwardly "We haven't had one of those in a while, so..."

She lets out a soft laugh, thinking how cute he looks all flustered.

"Oh..." he remains silent to calm his nerves until he speaks again so as not to make a fool of himself. "Oh! Yeah, just the two of us. Of course. It could be fun. Count me in!"

Y/N smiles and laughs softly, wich sounds angelical to Bob's ears.

"Great. It's a date" she says.

Bucky calls her to let her know they're about to leave, so she starts walking away from Bob.

"See you, Bob."

"See you. Good luck," Bob says with a dazed smile on his face, remembering the girl's words.

It's a date.

Bob walks to his room with an excited smile, feeling happiness in his chest, but when he remembers the last thing Y/N said, his eyes widen.

"Oh shit! It is a date!"

He needs to prepare for it.

----------

Bob listened and watched from the communications room to see how the team was doing on the mission.

It wasn't going so easy as they planed back in the tower a few hours ago, as they had run into a group of mercenaries who weren't going to give up so easily. The brunette just hoped everyone was okay and managed to complete the mission—and he really hoped Y/N was okay and didn't get hurt.

A feeling of anguish and anxiety was causing Bob's chest to tighten. His leg kept moving as he played with the Rubik's Cube in his hands, unable to complete a color.

The sound of bullets filled his ears, and his jaw clenched as he heard and saw Yelena or Bucky being hit. Alexei grumbled as he tried to pull a man off John to help him, and Ava took care of a few. Y/N tried to stop the bullets as best she could, but there were some hidden snipers she couldn't sense with her powers so easily.

"There's to many of them!" John complains through the earpiece in Bob's ear.

"Fuck! If we don't stop the ones from the roof we cannot go back to the car!" Ava exclaims in an almost exhaustive voice.

"Shit. C'mon guys" Bob whispers while frowning his eyebrows at the scene.

"Bob, can you see how many are on the roof?" Yelena asks from the communicator in her ear.

"Uh, yeah, yeah" he says inmediatly "There's five on the roof. Three of them has guns and two of them are programming something on the computer. Seems like.... oh no"

"What Bob?" Bucky asks.

"It's a bomb! You need to get out of there" Bob says quickly.

"Shit," Yelena curses.

"I can try to stop them. But I need you to cover my back," Y/N says in a confident, hurried tone.

Bob watches as the girl begins to head toward the other side to attack the group of men with guns at the entrance. The others try to stop anyone from attacking her, and she moves stealthily between the bodies to reach the entrance. Bob focuses his attention on the cameras in the building that shows Y/N, his heart aching at what's happening in the footage. Or what could happen.

"Please, be careful," Bob whispers.

Y/N stops the guards' bullets at the entrance with precision in her movements and attacks some who plan to hit her. Bob's eyes glance at the rest of the team as they manage to escape thanks to the distraction caused by the girl with green sparkles flashing from her fingers. However, he doesn't stop for more than five seconds just to check on the girl again. He wants to make sure she's okay, even if it's from behind the computer. Far away from the place where she is right now —just the thought of it makes his inner self freak out.

Something it's beginning to awake inside of him. Something he thought he had buried for his own good.

Or rather someone.

"Y/N, all done. Let's head to the car. I'll try to get to you right away," Bucky orders.

"No. It's okay, I got this," she chimes in stubbornly.

Bob shakes his head.

But before she can do so, a stray bullet hits her shoulder, destabilizing the girl.

"Fuck!" she complains, touching her shoulder.

"Y/N?" Bucky asks worriedly.

"Y/N!" Bob yells, watching as one of the guards hits her with her gun on the back of her head, causing the girl to fall unconscious to the ground.

That's it.

Bob rushes out of the tower's communications room and runs to the balcony, where he takes to the air with determination. He doesn't stop for a second, because time is precious, especially after seeing Y/N getting attacked. The only thing that keeps repeating in his mind is the visual image of the girl being injured, so he moves quickly through the air until he reaches the others. He had seen the coordinates and the area where they were, so it was easy for him to arrive in time.

Bob tries to find the place that the camera allowed him to watched the area in wich the girl was back at the tower, and when he finds it, he is surprised to find that one of the men responsible of attacking Y/N is carrying her unconscious body in his arms. Fury courses through his veins at the sight, and he rushes to stop the bastard. It's as if he's being consumed by darkness, a sensation he knows all too well.

As soon as he's in front of the guy, he stops him and without a second thought, tries to attack him, careful not to hit Y/N. The man looks at him in horror and carefully places the girl's body on the ground, then raises his hands in surrender.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know..." he stumbles, but all Bob sees is red.

He growls and begins to mercilessly beat the man's body, making him bleed, and doesn't stop until he's unconscious. Blow after blow, unleashing all the anger he felt at seeing how the bastard hurt the girl. He can still see her grimace of pain and how her body fell unconscious to the ground, helpless, and who knows what they might have done to her if he hadn't arrived in time.

"Please...." the man begs almost unconscious.

Bob doesn't hear him. He doesn't want to.

And Void doesn't want to too.

The rest of the team arrives at Y/N's location, only to see her lying on the ground with a scarlet stain forming on the shoulder of her suit, while Bob kills the man. Ava approaches the girl's body and makes sure she has a steady pulse, while John makes sure that no one appears and attacks them by surprise.

"Bob," Yelena warns and tries to approach him to make him see reason.

"No! He hurt her. No one can touch her, or hurt her!" he exclaims in a mixture of anger and darkness. "No one! You heard me? Fucking no one!"

The others stare at the scene and notice how Y/N wakes up and observes the state Bob is in. Ignoring the pain in her shoulder, she rushes over to him and wraps her arms around him from behind, resting her face on his.

"Bob, hey. It's okay," she murmurs in his ear, feeling the man begin to slow down the blows, so she tightens her grip on his body. "I'm okay. Everything will be okay."

Bob calms down and brings his now covered in blood hands to Y/N's arms, then turns his body and hugs her with all his strength, trying to cover her body to protect her just in case, and also feel her in his arms and make sure nothing happens to her anymore.

"You are hurt" he whispers in her ear.

"It's just a scratch. I'll be fine" Y/N says with a small smile on her lips.

"He hurt you. I couln't allow him to do it" he says in a broken voice.

Y/N looks at the rest of the team and smiles at them, letting them know she's okay. Kinda. Bucky sighs and shakes his head at the girl in that state, knowing she must be screaming from the pain of the bullet, while Alexei smiles sideways and tries to encourage her from a distance. The blonde russian girl mouths to her that she will get the car ready to go, to wich Y/N nods and indicates her to do so.

"We still have our date," she tells him, still standing with the brunette, glancing at the man's lifeless body.

Bob lets out a sigh and nods his head against Y/N's chest, agreeing with her.

"Our date," he says in a soft tone, relaxing at the touch of her fingers in his hair. Although he can't help but feel anger again when he smells the metallic scent coming from the girl's wound.

"Yeah. Are we still up to that?"

"Definitely" Bob answers and lets out a small laugh.

She smiles and then pulls away from him to look him in the eye. Those blue orbits who watch her with a spark on his eyes.

"So let's go home and have our date, okay?" Bob nods and then lowers his gaze to the girl's wound.

"First, we need to treat your wound," he says, pointing to the red stain on her suit.

"Would you help me with that?"

"You don't have to ask me twice."

They both stare at each other with a small smile on their faces, understanding how much they care for each other and would do anything to keep them safe and viceversa.

Especially Bob.

And as long as Y/N is in his arms, he'll be okay.

[luviestarz]

lee haechan fic recs! part 3 ❤︎

❤︎ #1: meandom!haechan who's still weak for his gf - @hyuckmov

❤︎ Touch me - @byuntrash101 (with lots of love and patience haechan was able to heal your soul. with him it feels right and you are ready to take the next big leap)

❤︎ she’s quiet (s,f) - @ijuliet (although you were not looking to make new friends, the ones you had tried their hardest to push you out of your comfort zone to find something abnormal for you. which is why you’re at a frat party on a thursday night, watching as lee donghyuck observes you from afar.)

❤︎ falling in love with haechan - @ooshu

❤︎ stalker!haechan x fem!reader - @neocentral

❤︎ flustered by you - @lelengerine (your boyfriend surely knows how to make you flustered, even when he’s the one who should be.)

❤︎ Danger - @daegall (however, on one particular day, the epitome of 'danger’ shows up to your doorstep and is asking you on a date. you recognized this certain person as lee haechan, one of your art classmate, renjun’s, best buddies.)

❤︎ getting even | lee haechan (P1) - @ofjunemoment (Haechan is notorious for his pranks. Who can forget about the one time the campus fountain was bleeding red? You were weary of never getting on his wrong side, but when you get to know him better, it seems like behind all that front he's a sweet and caring guy. That is until you get a bucket of water dunked on you straight after he promised he wouldn't pull something on you. You're not only pissed that he had fooled you like this, but that he chose such a simple prank.)

❤︎ double dog dare - @waithyuck (your best friends renjun and jeno decide that it would be funny to dare you to sit on the lap of your long time crush, lee donghyuck, during a college party.)

❤︎ ⇢ haechan as your boyfriend - @justalildumpling

❤︎ THE ONLY EXCEPTION - @jaylaxies (mark was an overprotective brother and he didn’t fail to show it, warning all the guys to stay away from you, his best friends were no exception. so, how will you make it work when you return back after graduating school, only to find that your crush is paying more attention to you than ever? it most certainly doesn’t help that it’s lee donghyuck, to whom, you are strictly off limits.)

❤︎  body language [l.dh] - @badalivie (You and Donghyuck have been dance partners for the past 6 years. When he gets into an accident that costs him a competition and substitutes himself with another dancer, he realizes he’s not so open at all to having you dance with someone else, especially having their hands in the places he considered his.)

❤︎ pancakes for two - @pearlesscentt (haechan x reader, college!au)

❤︎ ❛NICE GUY❜ ( l. haechan ) - @luvyeni (in the midst of your stalker running lose you trust haechan , he seems like nice guy)

❤︎ all is fair in love and war - @lonelyharmonies (when you meet a guy once and forget his name, the last thing you expect is meeting him again on your new job.)

❤︎ spur of the moment (ldh) - @haetrack

❤︎ pairing: lee donghyuck x reader - @yrqrnc (wherein, it’s a late afternoon and you’re watching your favorite series with your dearest boyfriend as you cuddle on the couch, but it seems that it’s physically impossible for you to keep your attention fixed on the large monitor in front of you, and not him.)

❤︎ impulse - @nctsworld (saying i love you for the first time during the heat of the moment doesn’t really count... right?)

❤︎ home is a feeling | lee donghyuck - @neonun-au (Fresh off a break-up, not willing to stomach spending Christmas single with your family, you book a last minute trip overseas to escape the impending loneliness, not realizing that perhaps running away from your feelings will only serve to intensify them. You arrive at your home-away-from-home only to find you’re not the only one staying there. Through some unfortunate (or not so unfortunate) mistake, the AirBnB you booked has also been booked by a handsome young man looking for a similar escape from his own life. Now you have to choose whether or not to stay and spend your Christmas with a stranger or scramble to find a lonely hotel room last minute over the holidays.)

❤︎ corny stuck under the bed scenario - @sherwees

❤︎ indica dreams | ldh - @hazyhae (when you finally decide to do something about your sleeping problem, your best friend suggests weed as a solution. he introduces you to donghyuck — a plug who makes it his personal mission to teach you everything there is to know about it.)

❤︎ ( 📁 twenty minutes. by lee haechan ＿ ⭐ O1O1 ) - @lavandiors (where haechan finds you in the practice room and can't help but want you all to himself.)

❤︎ ⎯ sweet nothings… - @foolsunz (you’re going to be the death of him, he knows it.)

[izzih22]

Can you do one where Paige is just like really giving off golden retriever vibes, like she’s so happy and in love, and someone makes a comment to Azzi after she does something funny (like the yelling on the court randomly) about how they don’t understand how she handles her because Paige can be a lot and Azzi not only puts them in their place but also gives off the “I’m in love, I’m obsessed, we were made for each other” vibe

Built Different

Note: I tried.

Practice at UConn doesn’t have off days.

It doesn’t matter if it’s midseason, if the team’s sore, if class schedules are tight. The expectation’s the same: intensity, excellence, discipline. Every drill, every rep, every scrimmage.

And Paige Bueckers? She is the standard.

She’s already dripping sweat ten minutes in, barking calls, clapping her hands on defense, chest bumping teammates after good plays, and snatching the ball off the rebound like it belongs to her by law. Her energy doesn’t waver. If anything, it fuels the gym. Makes people sharper. Louder. Better.

“Talk on that screen!” she shouts, directing the weak side. “We’re not gonna give up soft looks all day.”

She’s demanding but no one takes it personal. This is Paige. Captain. Heartbeat. Always first to give credit, first to take accountability, first to sprint back when someone gets beat.

“She’s the engine,” Coach had said last week, watching her rally the team during a sluggish morning stretch. “When she’s locked in, we all are.”

And today? She’s locked the hell in.

So is Azzi.

While Paige works the tempo and the talk, Azzi plays like she’s laser-cut from discipline. No wasted movement. Every screen, every backdoor cut, every closeout is textbook. She’s so locked into the flow of the game, it’s like she’s already two plays ahead.

They don’t say much during drills. They don’t need to. Paige drops dimes without looking. Azzi’s always right where she should be.

When Paige hits her on a wraparound pass for a corner three, Azzi lets it fly and Paige lets out a low whistle.

“Wifey is a fucking sharp shooter,” she mutters under her breath, grinning as she jogs backward, completely unbothered by the fact that Azzi is very much pretending not to hear her.

⸻

They’re running shell drill, full-contact, rotating through five-on-five halfcourt sets. Paige forces a turnover and sprints it coast-to-coast, finger-rolling it in and immediately throws both arms in the air like she just won the Finals.

Then she jogs backward toward Azzi with this big, dorky grin. “Did you see that?” she pants. “That was kind of fire, right? Like Kyrie if he had better hair.”

Azzi, holding back a smile, doesn’t even glance at her. “Get back on D.”

“Babe, I did a euro into a spin step-through. For me? That’s art.”

“Cool,” Azzi deadpans. “The scoreboard says 0–0.”

Paige just laughs and jogs away, mumbling, “Hater.”

⸻

They keep going.

KK swipes the ball the next trip down and yells, “Cookies!” while sprinting in transition.

Paige runs her down, blocks her at the rim, and smacks the glass for good measure.

“Try again,” she grins, walking it up the court. “You’re not like that.”

KK just grins. “One day I’ll humble you.”

“Bet,” Paige fires back, already calling the next set.

The whole squad is going at it. No easy buckets. No fake love. Every girl in the gym wants to win.

But the respect? It’s built-in. It’s earned.

⸻

After awhile they finally take a water break.

Paige is bouncing in place, dripping sweat but smiling like she just discovered joy for the first time.

She reaches over and tugs the bottom of Azzi’s practice jersey. “You know I passed up a layup for that dime to you, right? Like…that was love.”

Azzi raises an eyebrow. “It was literally a two-on-one.”

“Exactly,” Paige says proudly. “And you’re my one.”

Ice groans audibly. “Please. I’m begging you both to be normal.”

Paige just grins and leans her head on Azzi’s shoulder. “Can’t help it. I’m in love with a sniper.”

Azzi sips her water and shoves her off with one hand. “You’re such a dork.”

“Yeah, but I’m your dork,” Paige says, absolutely beaming.

⸻

Later, they’re rotating through free throws at the end of practice, sweat-soaked and heavy-breathing. The gym’s finally quieted a little, the kind of focused calm that only comes after an hour of hell.

Paige is leaning on the scorer’s table, joking with KK and Ice in between shots, still bouncing on the balls of her feet like she’s got gas in the tank.

She’s tired… but she never stops moving.

“I swear,” KK says, shooting Azzi a smirk as she wipes her face with her jersey. “Your girl doesn’t shut up. Ever. Like, how do you handle all that?”

It’s light. Familiar. Everyone’s smiling. No one’s mean.

But Azzi lifts her eyes slowly, cool and direct.

She doesn’t raise her voice. Doesn’t roll her eyes. Just says, calm as anything:

“She’s not a lot. She’s Paige. She’s a leader.”

KK straightens a little, caught off guard.

Azzi dribbles once, spins the ball in her hands.

“She talks because she cares. Because she sees things before they happen. Because she’s been through everything we’ve been through and more and still shows up first in and last out.”

She shoots. Net.

“Everyone in here wants to win,” Azzi says, catching her own rebound. “But Paige? She wants all of us to win. That’s different.”

KK nods slowly, serious now. “Respect.”

Paige hears it all, but doesn’t say a word.

She just watches Azzi from across the paint, her smile quieter now. Softer. Like something in her chest just fell into place.

Azzi doesn’t look over. But she knows.

⸻

In the locker room afterward, Paige comes out of the showers in her slides and practice shorts, hair wrapped in a towel, still humming like someone just gave her a puppy.

She plops next to Azzi on the bench and nudges her with her knee. “Hey.”

Azzi glances up. “Hmm?”

“You love me.”

Azzi gives her a sideways look. “You just now figuring that out?”

“No, I just like hearing it,” Paige says brightly. “Especially after you verbally dunked on KK for me. That was so hot.”

Azzi scoffs, hiding her smile. “You’re literally the most annoying person I’ve ever met.”

Paige leans over kissing Azzi’s forehead before laying her head on her shoulder. “But I’m also your favorite person you’ve ever met, right?”

Azzi sighs. “Unfortunately.”

“Yessss,” Paige whispers, grinning like she just won the lottery.

[the-librarby]

FANCY SEEING YOU HERE III

- DANTE SPARDA (DMC)

I heart girlhood and first kisses.

Part one Part two

It had been a month since that eventful first day, and Dante had gotten very comfortable in your presence. He dropped by with seemingly no rhyme or reason, every time you tried to assign him a case he would just wave it off. Apparently busy with other work.

Not only did he physically disturb your work hours, but he somehow got ahold of your work number.

When the landline rings, you pick it up without thinking, “Devil May Cry,”

“That’s it?” The voice crackles due to the poor speaker, “No, this is Y/N speaking, how can I help you?” A familiar voice mocks.

You lean back in your chair with a grin, crossing your leg over the other— you better get comfortable this is going to be a long call — and squish the receiver between your cheek and shoulder.

You hum, “Maybe you should be a receptionist, you’ve got the voice for it,”

“Oh yeah? What else am I good at?” The cocky grin is apparent in his tone.

You roll your eyes, “Being a pain in my ass,” your eyes flick to the clock display on your computer, “Aren’t you on a mission right now?”

Dante hums in confirmation, “I found some downtime, just to check in on you,”

Check ins, that’s what Dante liked to call this.

“I’m just as fine as I was yesterday, Dante,” you reply, “If I didn’t know any better, it sounds like you care about me, sweetheart,”

The rumble of his laughter over the speaker makes you inhale just a bit deeper, “Yeah, yeah caught red handed.”

You found it hard to navigate this dynamic with Dante. You expected the flirtatious conversations to die down but as you got more acquainted, if anything, it’s just amped it up. You’re certain it’s just the demon hunter’s nature, and not anything personal, which is fine by you. The last thing you need is to complicate this working relationship even further.

“You there, darling?” He questions, snapping you out of your train of thought.

You lean forward in your seat, moving the computer mouse to wake the screen back up, “Yeah, here,” you respond, “How’s the mission going?”

“So boring,” he complains, “Don’t make me talk about it, any plans tonight? Tell me it’s something fun,”

You laugh, “Going out actually,” you choose to ignore Dante’s dramatic gasp, “Calendar finally lined up, so I’m getting some drinks with some friends,”

Dante lets out the most wounded sound you’ve ever heard, “What! You never go out—”

“Not true!” You interject.

“—The one time you’re doing something fun and I’m not even there to see it!”

You frown, “Who said you would be invited anyway?”

Dante scoffs, “Don’t be ridiculous, doll, of course I would be there,”

You hum in reluctance, “No, I don’t think so. Pretty sure I sent all the invites out already, guess yours got lost?”

“I find it funny that you think you could stop me from seeing you.” He assures.

You gaze up at the ceiling, shaking your head in disbelief. You turn in your office chair, now facing the window behind you, the cord follows and wraps around the chair.

“Guess you’ll just have to sit this one out then,” you sigh.

“I’ll find a way,” he hums, “Keep your phone on you.”

Even miles away you can’t shake the feeling that you’re being watched by him, a constant shadow over your shoulder. The sun is starting to set across the buildings outside, you search every rooftop and can’t find a single sign of a soul.

“Sure,” you spin back around to face your computer, “Better let you get back to your mission, I know you work so hard,” you coo.

Dante sighs, “Think of me when you go out tonight, alright doll? Because I’ll be thinking of you,”

“Goodbye Dante.” you fluster.

You hang the phone up with a click. In the silence of your office you groan, dragging your hands down your face is exasperation.

It was later in the evening when you stepped into the bar you were meeting your friends at. In the corner you can see them waving you over, a grin breaks out on your face. Cheers and greetings are shared, you can feel your shoulders relax. This was needed.

“I need a drink.”

Resounding agreements are met with your statement.

Time starts flying by, and you’re starting to forget what drink number you’re on but it’s fine, you got it handled. When you approach the bar, a guy next to you starts chatting. It’s polite and civil, he’s definitely cute, but when he starts pulling his phone out your mouth opens on autopilot.

“Oh, thank you, but no thanks,” you raise your hand placating.

The guy looks a little wounded— you grit your teeth in embarrassment— but doesn’t comment. Your friend punches your arm as he walks off, her eyes are widened.

“Why did you ditch him? He was so cute!”

You shrug, making your way back to your table, “I don’t know, wasn’t feeling it,”

Another girl chimes in as you sit down, “Wasn’t feeling what?”

“This cute ass guy just asked for her number and she shot him down!”

“Politely!” You interject.

The table is looking in your direction, one girl hums conspiratorially, “Someone we don’t know about?”

You choke on your drink, “No!” It’s not convincing, “No, there’s not,”

“Bullshit, your face is red! Who is it? Someone from work?”

The girl beside you tilts her head, “Your shady receptionist job? That would be interesting.”

Okay, so maybe your friends don’t know the full details of your job. It’s not because you don’t trust them, it’s just because this job is meant to be temporary, and honestly you don’t want them to worry about the people you work with.

Like Dante. Your heart pangs for a second at the thought of his name. That makes you pause.

“Oh my god, it’s definitely someone from her shady receptionist job,”

You automatically become defensive, “There’s nothing going on at work,” it doesn’t feel like you mean it, “I mean, nothing can happen anyway, it’s work,”

You shove down the sadness you feel saying that out loud, it’s not something you can deal with right now. When you look around the table you can see the sympathetic looks from everyone.

You groan and chug the rest of your drink, “Another round?”

You’ve definitely lost track of the amount of drinks you’ve had now. You’re laughing at every little amusing thing that comes across your path, and your friends laugh at how slurred your speech is. You’re just about to enter a different bar when your pocket starts to buzz.

“Wait,” you take a wobbly step back and dig into your pocket, “I gotta take this,” you murmur distractedly.

When your friends start to protest you wave your hand at them, “No s’fine, go in, I’ll be like, five minutes?”

You turn your back to them as they walk in, the phone in your hands looks a bit blurry and it takes you a couple tries to hit the accept button but eventually you get it.

“Hello?” You chime cheerily.

A chuckle rumbles through, “Just how drunk are you, doll?”

You frown, “Don’t,” you reply accusingly, “Don’t call me that, only Dante calls me that,”

“Really? He your boyfriend or something?” The voices teases.

You pout, “No, he’s—” you hum in thought, “Uh, a friend,”

Really, how else could you explain Dante to a stranger?

“You don’t sound convinced,”

His voice is deep, you muse, “What are you? A therapist?” A frown creases your eyebrows, “I definitely can’t afford that,”

The voice over the line laughs, it makes you feel warm, “Where are you?”

You scoff, “M’not giving my address to a stranger!”

“Haven’t you figured it out yet, sweetheart?”

“Sweethea—” you gasp loudly suddenly, “Dante?”

“Bingo,” Dante laughs, it’s so familiar how could you not recognise it?

“Dante!” You repeat, in disbelief, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You are so gone,” he comments amusedly.

“Yeah,” you sigh in agreement. Slowly, on unsure legs you walk over to the edge of the pavement to sit on the curb outside of the bar, “I miss you, where are you?”

Dante is going to tease the fuck out of you tomorrow for this. But right now you are not sound of mind to care, or even realise what you are saying. Sitting on the concrete beside a parked car, you watch as other drunken groups stumble and laugh up and down the street.

“On a mission remember?” He muses.

“Oh yeah,” you respond, fingers loosely holding your phone, “How is the mission?”

“That really what you want to talk about right now?”

Your response comes out quick, “If it keeps you on the line,”

The a brief choked noise and pause, you think you hear a quiet curse— fucking hell— in the background, but it’s drowned out by the traffic.

“Where are you?” Dante repeats.

“Huh?” You swing your head around, squinting your eyes at the bar sign out front, “Some bar, Night lounge or somethin’”

“I’ll meet you there,”

You laugh, “What? You’re like—” you wave your hand in gesture, “Somewhere far away,”

“Don’t move, got it?” He ignores your comment, “See you soon, doll.”

You barely say goodbye before the line ends. You stare at your phone in confusion for a moment, what did he mean? Your sluggish mind can’t fit the pieces together, so you shrug it off. Standing up, you dust off your outfit and make your way inside the bar. The girls are urging you to catch up, having missed out on a few rounds.

You completely forget about the phone call.

Hours later, you blearily look at your phone. The clock displays 2:00am. You push your way off the dance floor, leaving your friends behind. Everything is becoming stuffy and you need space, it’s a clumsy exit but you manage to shove your way out. Skirting the edge of the dance floor, you make one last shove this time accidentally hitting someone square in the chest.

“Sorry,” you slur, hands up in defence.

A bigger hand circle your wrist, the other hooking under your chin to tilt your head up, “Just the person I was looking for,”

Slowly you blink to take the man in, black fitted top, broad shoulders, and long silver hair. A grin breaks out on your face, “Dante!” You cheer drunkenly, wriggling your hands out of his grasp and wrap them around his neck. You feel his arms curl around your waist.

Your cheek is smooshed against the juncture of his shoulder and neck, “You made it,” your murmur, “How did you find me?”

Dante looks down at you quizzically, about to respond when you’re suddenly tugged back by your shirt.

“Y/N!” Your friend shouts, “You can’t just run off like that!”

She starts to apologise to Dante on your behalf, “I’m so sorry, she’s drank a lot tonight—”

You hiccup on your laugh, “Don’t apologise,” you poke hard at Dante’s chest, “This is Dante,”

Your friend frowns, “Dante…?”

“From work,” he supplies.

Your friend frowns, looking between the two of you. Dante’s hand is resting comfortably on the small of your back, your hand turning from an accusing point to a splayed hand on his chest.

She raises her eyebrow, “Dante,” she repeats, “From work,”

“That’s me, Dante from work,” he nods.

Another girl from your group comes up, “What’s going on?” She shouts.

She jabs a thumb in your direction, a grin now on her face, “This is Dante from Y/N’s work,”

She gasps, “The Dante?”

Dante’s now starting to feel confused, the two girls in front of him are scrutinising him in his spot. He smiles politely, and lets them look. You on the other hand, are completely taken by a wave of sleepiness. Unaware of the looks exchanged, you slump into Dante’s side.

“Need home,” you murmur.

Dante leans down, hovering closer to your face to hear better, “What?”

You groan at the movement, every shift welcomes a new wave of dizziness, “Need to go home,” you force out.

“Well, Dante from work,” your friend interjects, “Think you can handle this one?”

If you were sober, you’d be more aware of the current stare down that was happening. It’s more than a simple question, Dante was facing a test of loyalty right now, and honestly, it was kinda terrifying.

He answers without doubt, “Yes, I can handle her,”

You crack your eyes open when you feel warmth wrap around you, “Bye Y/N,” kisses are pressed to your cheeks, “Get home safe, and text me!”

You mumble your goodbyes, lots of I love you’s are exchanged before Dante wraps his arm around your waist and leads you outside. Once you step out into fresh air, you sigh. It feels so good to be outside.

“Alright, let’s get you home,”

You slump your head against his shoulder, letting Dante lead the way because your legs are not working right now.

“I wanna take my shoes off,”

“You can’t take your shoes off,”

You cry worriedly, “Are they glued to my feet?”

Dante looks down at your frantic face, shaking his head, “No, we’re walking home, you can’t take your shoes off right now,” he clarifies.

You sigh in genuine relief, the split second reality of not being able to take your shoes off outweighs the minor pain they’re giving you for now.

“Would you cut my feet off if they were actually stuck?” You wonder aloud.

Dante frowns, “No, I would not cut your feet off,”

You tilt your head, “How would you get them off then?”

Dante is unsure of the direction of this conversation, he knows you’re just rambling but the accusing look in your eye makes him think you’re not going to let this go.

He sighs, “Cut them?”

You gasp, “But these are my favourite!” You kick your feet up as to show them off, but you start to topple backwards from the sudden weight shift.

Dante easily swings forward until you’re straightened up again, “I don’t know,” he hums, “Guess I would have to force them off, they’d have to unstick at some point.”

You smile, satisfied at his answer. The streets are starting to get a little quieter as you walk away from the bars, it’s nicer like this, you can hear the cars driving past and a quiet ringing in your ears from the loud music earlier.

Dante’s mind floats back to what your friends said, “Do your friends know me?”

You hum questioningly, thinking back over the blurry events of tonight. After the phone call you went back in the bar, your friends were sitting at the table urging you to catch up on drinks. No wait, something before that.

“Who were you talking to out there?”

“Dante,” you answer simply.

“Dante?” They emphasise, “Who is Dante?”

You shrug, “From work? He’s so annoying,” you roll your eyes, “Keeps calling me all sorts of names, doll, sweetheart, my love,”

While you’re rambling your friends eyes widen, the whole table shocked at the revelation you’ve just spilled.

“Y/N, my darling,” you scrunch your nose, “You know he likes you, right?”

“What?” You scoff, “That’s impossible,”

“Why?”

That made you pause. Why was it impossible again? Something about boundaries and lines interfering.

“Oh my god!” Hands slam on the table, “It’s him! The guy that nothing can happen with!”

Gasps resound around the table, but your head is spinning. Before they can ask you anymore questions you head for the bar.

“You’re the guy,” you say.

“The guy?”

You huff, waving your hand, “The guy,” you emphasise, “From work, where nothing can happen, because you’re from work,” you tag on the end, in case it wasn’t obvious.

Now Dante can read between the lines. In this case, the line is very obvious in your oversharing confidence. A line that should not be discussed right now. He knows. Your apartment building is coming into view, Dante recognises the familiar entrance steps and railing.

“Something you want to say to me, darling?” It’s cruel to ask in your state, but he can’t help it.

You stop abruptly in your path, Dante looks down at you as you turn to him, a determined look pinning your facial expression.

“Yes,” you accuse, stepping closer, “How dare you,”

Dante smirks, “How dare I what?”

You point a finger waving it between him and yourself, “Act like this,” you gesture, “You’re not my partner,”

The drunken words are not eloquently said, but he understands. He steps closer, you tilt your head up to continue facing him.

“Do you want me to stop?” He murmurs, suddenly serious.

You frown, “This is so not fair,” you reach your hands up to cup his face, “You can’t look at me like that,”

Dante would put money down to see what you see in him right now, “What do I look like?” He whispers.

Your thumb grazes gently under his eye, “Not how a friend should look at me,”

He glances down at your lips, “Will you forgive me in the morning?”

His abrupt question confuses you, “For what?” You smile in amusement.

Without warning he leans down, causing your hands to slide down to the back of his neck. Your eyes widen in anticipation, he pauses close to your face, giving you a chance to back off.

“I swear if this is a sick joke, I’ll kill you Dante.” you promise.

Hands grasp your hips, tugging you flush against chest. Seconds later, Dante’s lips are on yours. It’s gentle, is what your foggy mind can comment on. Your hands reach up into his hair, gently curling into the strands, him groans in response with deepened the kiss. One of your hands travels down his chest, feeling for the hem.

Before you can get your fingers underneath, you feel the world spin before your back hits something hard. The kiss breaks, and when you open your eyes and look around you can see you’re leaning against the brick all of your apartment building.

Dante’s heavy breathing matches your own, he shakes his head with a smile, “It’s time for you to go to bed,”

You ignore him, tugging him closer by the loops of his belt. He moves forward without a fight, you lean up to kiss him once more. Dante feels weak in this moment, he can’t say no, not when your fingers are curled around his pants like that. When your fingers reach for the hem of his shirt, there’s only a warning hum. A cautionary, don’t. With a smile against his lips, you breach under, letting your finger tips glide over his hipbone. You don’t get much further until a hand grasps your wrist.

“You’re breaching out of bounds territory,” Dante warns.

You grin, wriggling your fingers that are still trapped under his shirt, “Let me in,”

Dante smiles in amusement at your boldness, “No,” he counters.

Your mouth drops in shock, as if not expecting that response, “You’re so mean,”

His hand drags yours out, “You already knew that,” he winks.

You pout, glancing up at him through your eyelashes. Your slightly smudged mascara affects Dante in a way he didn’t know could, his thoughts are starting to drift too far. Thoughts of you in this outfit, on your knees on your bedroom floor, choking around—

He blinks the thoughts away. He needs to stop this.

Gently he tugs you off the brick wall, guiding you up the stairs to your apartment entrance. Getting the hint, you fish out your keys.

You look at him one last time, “This is real right? I’m not imagining it,”

Dante chuckles, “I would be a fucking fool to pass you up,” he leans forward for one more chaste kiss, his hand cups your face, “Text your friends that you’re home, before they think I killed you,”

You laugh, “I will,”

He leans again, finding it hard to part from your lips but he manages to pull away one last time, “Call me in the morning?”

You hum, leaning against his hand as you peek your eyes open, “Afternoon okay? I’ll definitely feel like shit tomorrow morning,”

Dante smiles, “Deal.”

[belovedenzo]

nsfw theodore nott headcanons…

various sexually explicit headcanons w/ bf! theo

┃words; 1.4k

┃notes; just some things about bf! theo sex. this is my first theo post so I hope you enjoy it !

┃ warnings; NSFW MDNI 18+. toxic! theo. explicit and kinky themes.

┃ Dominant. No matter how tired or lazy he’s feeling, Theo always likes it best when he’s in control. Watching you squirm and lose yourself in the pleasure he gives you, provides him with best high imaginable. He thinks it’s cute if you ever try and make him submit in any way but no matter how hard you may try, you always end up at his mercy.

┃ Sharing. It’s a guilty pleasure of his to watch the eyes of his closest friends eye your figure up and down when you walk into the room. At first it made him see red but once he became confident that you are his and no one else’s- he finds it cute. The idea that any of them think they could have some of you amuses him- the sight of them pining after you even started to turn him on. Eventually he may even let one of them fuck you in front of him, on his terms of course. Mattheo… if you were wondering.

┃ High sex. When you two finally get alone time together- Theo loves to spend it smoking joints in what ever spot he chose that day. Muggle weed has always had it’s way of putting him in the mood- it doesn’t take long before his lips and tongue are all over you. When he’s high he loves to take his time with you, his touch much more gentle that it typically is. He even lasts longer than he usually does, causing you to ache the next morning. ache so good

┃ Brat tamer. If he feels disrespected by you in any way you can except to be face down ass up by the end of the day. If you do something that rubs him just right the wrong way he makes sure that you understand what you did wrong while he’s deep inside of you. His insults and demands can be half heard through your fucked out conciseness- face stuffed in what ever surface he chose to press it into. You try to apologize over and over through your moans and gasps but he won’t be satisfied till your full of his cum. When Theo decides you need to be tamed he’s not nice about it- if there’s one thing he can’t stand it’s a brat. He loves it.

┃ Protective. No one has the nerve to mess with Theo’s girl- but if they did they’d have to get through him first. He loves to have you on his arm- showing you off like a present. In all truthfulness- watching their jealous eyes wander away quickly as he catches their glance turns him on. Their anxiety and fear that they got caught while his sweet girl is tucked under his broad shoulder. Something about the power he holds in that situation makes him want to fuck you in front of them- all of them.

┃ Face fucking. There’s nothing better than the view Theo gets of your mouth wrapped around his cock- deep down your throat. Tears sit in the corners of your half lidded, blissed out eyes, streaming down the sides of your rosy cheeks while he pushes your limits. He loves having you like this, fist fulls of your hair entagled in his fingers- having full control over your mouth and the pretty little head attached to it. If you try and intervene, punishment will be near in your future so you’ve stopped trying. However he knows you love the attention so the alligator tears don’t fool him.

┃ Thigh Riding. His hands hold onto your hips unyieding- your flesh making contact with his. He has you situated, your legs around the midst of his thigh. It always starts out painfully slow, Theo loves taking his time dipping your hips up and down closer to his thigh to tease your clit with contact. Once he starts giving you that sweet tension your pussy is begging for it doesn’t take long for you to finish all over his firm thigh. He never lets you have control of your own hips while your ride, but you’re always content submitting to him.

┃ Ass guy. Theo loves your ass and that’s final. Of course he thinks all of you is sexy but he can’t deny he’s an ass man. Most of his favorite positions to have you in, include your ass posted up nice and spread for him to see. The way it moves along with the snapping of his hips while he’s fucking you, or the way it shimmies behind you as you walk. It’s a huge turn on for him.

┃ Choking. The place his hands have always gravitated towards has been your neck. Even if it’s an innocent grab at your nape to show affection as you walk through the halls- his hands can be found resting on your neck. More often though, the reasonings aren’t as innocent. This is the best place for him to make you as small and vulnerable as possible. His grip is consistently anchored stiff but depending on his mood he may actually allow you to breathe.

┃ Cheating. Theo loves you- a lot. In fact, the feelings he’s had for you over the course of your relationship have been some of which he’s never experienced before. However that may be hard to believe due to his past of unfaithful actions. If you don’t give him enough attention for what ever reason it may be- Theo will eventually cheat. Some of the reason may be even out of spite, he can be just as vile as he can sweet. Any time you have attempted to stand up for yourself he simply manipulates you into forgiving and forgetting. Aka he makes you cum

┃ High pony tail. Undeniably- there is nothing you can do with your looks to turn him on more than a high pony. The way it pulls all of the hair out of your face has always been a big factor in the ponytail being a favorite but that’s not the only reason. It reminds him of how you look when both of his hands pull your hair back nice and tight- gripping it at the crown of your head to keep it out of the way while he forces his length down your throat. It makes you look sexy and brings back good memories- what’s there not to love?

┃ Mirrors. One reason why Theo loves fucking you in the prefects bathroom- is the mirror. Forcing you to watch yourself get the best dick of your life should be considered a treat. He’s always wanted to show you how fucked out your face looks when your below him and with a mirror- he can do just that. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t also like to watch as he pounds your cheeks from behind, watching you close your eyes in embarresment through the reflection at the slapping sounds. If you keep them closed for too long- he’ll force them back open if he has to, you have to watch. The way your face contorts and emotes amuses him, proving to himself yet again that he has you dick whipped.

┃ Hair tugging. This is one that you’ve almost grown to hate. Not only does Theo love to pull your hair during a usual rough sexcapade- he also does it when he thinks you need to be taught a lesson. Theo has never been afraid to hurt you and you know that- but merlin do you hate the snappy little hair pulls that he does when he doesn’t like something you said or if you disagree with him in front of his friends. Yeah- he has the nerve to do it in front of everybody. His long fingers yank and pull at your longest strands, a small sting kissing your scalp- his way of saying “stop.” When he’s in an extra loving mood he’ll even play with your hair which you love- but if he’s in an extra terrible mood you can except your hair to be yanked just a little harder while he takes his shitty day out on your pussy.

luv, spell

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[satorella]

“𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞 (𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆) 𝐲𝐨𝐮.”

You watched as a bead of sweat dripped down the side of 𝐒𝐚𝐞’𝐬 temple. You guys have been at this for what felt like forever.

“You think you’re so fucking cool. Don’t you, Itoshi?” You taunted, with a mischievous grin forming on your face. “Just because I’m a girl, you think you’re better than me? I made it this far in the academy, same as you. Asshole.”

“You gonna keep hogging the ball, L/n? Hurry up and pass it to someone already so we can call it a day.” Sae sighs, his usual bored expression on his face.

His nonchalance spikes your goddamn blood pressure.

You grit your teeth, “Why? So you can just steal it from whichever loser teammate of mine? Fuck you.”

“Ah great, here we go again…” You hear the other players whine in the background.

That was the last time you saw Sae Itoshi, before you got scouted by your dream team overseas.

Madrid was quiet. Too quiet without you. He realized then, that the challenge wasn’t as fun anymore… if it wasn’t with you.

He wondered how you were doing. If you were happy with your new team and friends. If you were content with how your life was going right now.

If you’ve thought about him at all…

Wait. Is that what this feeling is? He misses you? Nah, can’t be him. You guys were rivals. You guys have hated each other since the day he arrived at the academy.

Well… you did, anyway. He never actually hated you. How could he, when you were the only form of entertainment he had there? The only one who could get his heart pumping… in more ways than one.

His thumb hovered over your contact.

Would you even answer?

Fuck it. Only one way to find out. And if you didn’t answer, he’ll just say it was a buttdial. Boom.

He pressed the call button.

After a few rings, you still hadn’t answered. Damnit, he shouldn’t have done this. He was about to cut off the call, when…

“Hello?” You finally answered, groggy from sleep.

He was silent for a second. He didn’t think you’d actually answer. But fuck did he feel a bit relieved.

“It’s me.” Was all he managed to get out. Idiot.

“Um, yeah? I know?” You pulled your phone away from your ear to double check the contact name. “Did I wake you?” He mentally facepalmed himself. He totally forgot about the different timezones.

You rolled onto your back and rubbed your eyes, “Y-Yeah…” He pinched the bridge of his nose, “Sorry. I’ll let you go-”

“Did you need something, Sae?” You cut him off, surprisingly not wanting to end the conversation just yet.

He blinked up at the ceiling. This was the first time he’s ever heard you call him by his first name, or spoken to him in a softer tone in general…

“Sae?” You called out to him again, snapping him out of his thoughts. “How’s your new team?” He clears his throat, his usual stoic tone returning. Though it didn’t annoy you this time.

You sat up in bed, fully awake now. “Good enough for me, as I knew they would be. My dream team after all, heh.” He nodded, even though you couldn’t see it. Good, you were happy.

“What about you? How are things?” You asked, genuinely curious. “Honestly? Boring.” He sighed. “How so?” “No one challenges me anymore. Not like you.” He spoke before thinking his words through. “Oh? Don’t tell me you miss me.” You joked. “I do.” He says bluntly. Your eyes widened, “I-I was kidding!” “I wasn’t.”

“…Did something happen, or?” You could hear your heart thumping in your chest. “No. Just wanted to hear your voice.” “You really don’t hold back, huh?” You chuckled awkwardly.

How were you supposed to respond? The guy hates your guts…

Right?

“Do you miss it?” He asked. “Eh? Miss what?” “Shit talking me every day. Glaring at me every chance you get.” He elaborates. You thought for a moment.

“Well I mean, my blood pressure doesn’t spike as much now that you aren’t around.” You joked again, “But… yeah. I miss beating you at your own game and all.” “Shut up,” He clicks his tongue, “I’m being serious.”

This conversation was making you… feel things. Things you tried to deny and hide away.

“…Yeah. I do kinda sorta… miss you. Just a teeny tiny bit. But don’t let that get to your head. Asshole.” Ah, and there it was. He was starting to think you’d gone soft.

“Come see me.” He blurted. Shit.

“W-What?” You tried not to sound surprised. “It’s off-season. And you’re clearly not going anywhere or visiting your family. So come visit me instead. I’m sure the bartender at that one bar downtown would have a kick at seeing us together… not trying to kill each other for once.” The last part made you giggle.

Sae Itoshi actually managed to make you laugh. Not a menacing or angry laugh, but a cute laugh.

Maybe moving overseas did make you soft…

Or maybe missing you, made HIM soft?

When you didn’t say anything for a while, he spoke up again. “I just emailed you the plane ticket.” You blinked at nothing, “What?!” You quickly rolled out of bed, stumbled over to your desk, opened your laptop, and logged into your email.

Sure enough, there was an email from him. “S-Sae you didn’t have to pay for my- huh? Day after tomorrow?!” “It was the last and soonest flight. Perfect right?” You could tell he probably had a smug expression on his face right now. “I didn’t even say yes!” You scoffed. “True, but I knew you would have. Anyways, I’ll let you go back to bed now. See you on Friday.”

“W-Wait!” You quickly called out before he could hang up on you. “What?” “I, um…” He waited for you to continue, “…I-I hate you.”

He let out a barely there, soft chuckle.

“I hate you too, Y/n.”

© 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐚 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒-𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟓. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

Join my tag list!📋

(𝑷𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝑳𝒐𝒄𝒌 discord server👯‍♀️)

[samsblades]

✶ just because — sam winchester

cw : gn!afab!reader, smut, fluff, service top!sam, pet names (baby, honey, lovely), praise, oral x2 (reader receiving), swearing, unprotected p in v & creampie, cum eating, cockwarming, mentions of heavy pda/touching but there's no one else around lol, passing mentions of food/eating, use of day after birth control, poorly edited, 8K words. requested !

MDNI !!! 18+ ONLY.

summary : sam spoils you with a nice hotel room, in which you have slow romantic sex, and spend the next day reading books in bed.

for a moment, your surprised joy is interrupted by a bout of total horror and mortified embarrassment. sam has saved up to stay in a well-reviewed hotel room for the night, and you're convinced that you must've somehow forgotten your anniversary, or something with an equal measure of importance. but he catches the bewildered fear in your eyes before you can stammer out an apology or breathless question and gathers your hands in his as your gaze flicks between him and the tall building.

"just because," he reassures, easily guessing what's caught you off guard. he can't stop grinning because he can feel the excitement buzzing in your hands, and the second you're no longer frightened that you've forgotten something you never should, you're grinning too.

"just because?" you repeat, just to be sure. you're still in a bit of disbelief. a hotel room might not be much to others, but a life lived in grime, blood, and shitty motel rooms makes this a total luxury.

"mhmm," he confirms, "we… you know, we deserve it." that makes you grin harder. it feels like the bigger luxury is sam including himself in that statement, saying aloud that he deserves something nice. and he's very right. the both of you absolutely deserve it, just because.

"we do," you beam, and such a smile on your face makes the splurge more than worth it. he presses a sweet kiss to your cheek that you can't reciprocate only because he swoops away to grab your bags and swing them over a shoulder. his free hand finds yours again, happily leading you across the parking lot to the foyer of the hotel.

the afternoon sun beams down, illuminating faces that are lit up all on their own, and your shoes scuff against the asphalt.

"is this why you kept hustling pool last week?" you ask, only a light hint of teasing in your otherwise affectionate voice as you peer at him curiously. his eyes graze over the parking lot entrance as a car pulls in, checking to be sure it's not coming your way. then he looks back at you with a sheepish smile and nods.

"didn't take too long to get enough," he says, his voice lighter than it has been in a long time.

"mhmm," you hum, giving his hand a soft swing as the automatic doors to the lobby roll open and you step into the cool, air conditioned air of the hotel. honestly, you pay no attention as sam checks you into your room, giddy as you let your eyes wander. it's grander than you expected, and maybe a bit more expensive than sam is letting on. you wonder if it was just last week he was hustling pool or if he's been planning this for longer than you'd first guessed. your eyes drift to the signs that point towards a pool, a gym, even a bar.

you return your attention to sam and the desk attendant just in time to see the employee hand over two room keys and mention that check out time is eleven am. the both of you smile and give thanks, but you never caught the room number, so you let him take the lead. in the elevator, he presses the button for the fourth floor.

like the gentleman he is, he holds the door to the room open for you and quickly slips in so he can watch the look on your face. it's not anything truly upscale, but it's far better than anything you've had in literal years. the bed is comfortable, the sheets are clean, and the shower can double as a bath. there's even a little balcony, and it's all you could ask for. the decor is impressively not highly tacky.

there's a light in your eyes that sam only gets when things are quiet. when it's snowy and he pulls out a scarf you didn't know he had and wraps it around your neck before pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. or when it's summer and you get to watch a glorious sunset from the hood of the car. you spin around to face him, worn sneakers you forgot to take off at the entrance catching on the carpet and tipping you off balance. with your skill set, you could very easily stand straight, but you let yourself fall.

his arms are outstretched and he takes a small step so that you crash into his chest with a pleased, hearty laugh.

"thank you, sam," you grin, arms strong as they wrap around his neck and don't let go.

he beams because he has the world wrapped up in his arms, and because he's made the world happy.

"you don't have to thank me," he says, always too modest.

"but i'm grateful," you counter, planting a sturdy kiss to his cheek as if to prove it. "and this is really, really perfect. so thank you."

he feels like he's floating. "you're welcome," he murmurs, letting his chin dip until his lips are pressing into the sweet skin where your neck just begins to slope upwards. for a long few moments, you simply stand there together, engulfed by the other and perfectly content. but sam can never resist the taste of your skin, and you can certainly never resist the feel of his tongue and his lips. so there's a kiss to your skin, then a drag of his lips because he doesn't want to part from you even the slightest bit. another kiss to your neck, just an inch away from the first.

hot breath from the puff of his nose, then you're kicking off your shoes. three more kisses, each one more open mouthed than the last until it's the heat of his tongue. your hands drift to their home in his hair, fingers curling into the slowly lengthening strands at the back. his hair's a bit greasy because he hasn't washed it since the last motel and you briefly imagine a hot bath after this, how relaxing it will be, how soft his hair will get when he lets his guard down and melts into your touch as you shampoo it for him. and you imagine how well you'll sleep after a nice, warm bath, after being worn out by the way you're sure to be lost in each other's pleasure for a long while.

then you remember that it's only the afternoon as your eyes slip open just enough to be sure you won't trip on anything as sam walks you to the bed, tongue still trailing across your skin. and you're sighing, soft and nearly breathless already as his teeth scrape, then lips suck before you're sinking back into the softest bed you've slept on in a long, long while.

and while sam's the hungriest kisser you've ever had, he's so very soft and purposeful and slow today. every action has an impassioned, in-love intent behind it, and he sucks at your skin in a way that lets you feel it all. his hands shift and caress and squeeze, but they don't wander. they are placed with purpose, just like the way he kisses. he kisses and nips at the most sensitive spots along your neck and jawline until he reaches your shoulders and collarbone, until he's pulling off your shirt and bra. there's a moment of quiet reverence as his fingertips slide up from your waist and to your ribs and then the palms of his warm, loving hands are cupping the sweet swell of your breasts.

his face dips between them, and instead of immediately licking and sucking and nipping like he most often does, you get the murmur of gentle lips along sensitive skin. "i love you so much. so much." he whispers your name like a prayer, or maybe a sacred hymnal, the one that always makes you cry whether or not you believe in any higher power. it's certain he believes in you, though.

you meet his eyes as they lift up to your face, glistening with the reflection of the lamp on the beside and something more, and pupils blown wide with an ardent lust. he's so utterly sincere, so clearly in love—with you, for that matter—that you can't help but want to pull him back up and kiss him hard on the lips until you just can't breathe.

"i love you, too. so much," you echo, doing everything you can to imbue your voice with the same passion and reverence he holds for you. your thumb finds his cheekbone and rubs it softly, brushing a strand of hair from his face. "you're so beautiful," you murmur, unable to hold back from telling him so. he should hear it, you think, and you mean it with all your heart and soul. it gets you the desired effect, too; an upward tug of his lips and the prettiest dusting of pink across his cheeks that crawls up to the tips of his ears.

he kisses you right where he rests with his chin slipping down into the valley of your breasts and his lips a few inches well below your collarbone.

"you're beautiful," he breathes out and onto your skin, like it's the easiest thing to say in the world. your cheeks warm too, as if he's not already cupping your tits or pressing his hips right into yours. "and i'm gonna make you feel so good, honey. you're so good."

your nipples get his attention now, already peaked from the cool air and nearness of his big hands, but he easily gets your back to arch lightly and a moan to slip past your lips as his mouth and fingers latch to your sensitive flesh. he sucks and lingers and works you up until it's practically agonizing, until your hips squirm and the sensation borders on overstimulation.

"sam," you groan, torso twitching lightly. his unoccupied hand slips down between your clothed legs to cup your pulsing mound as if to tell you he knows. almost there, be patient. he's all slow and worshiping today, clearly intent on making it all about you and your pleasure. but you're not sure how long you can be patient for, a drawn out moan leaving your lips as his hand makes contact with your core and applies a steady pressure that makes you want to shamelessly rut into his palm.

before you can utter the please that's already on the tip of your tongue, he finally lets his insistent mouth fall from your breasts and down to your belly, trailing messy kisses to the hem of your pants. you lose the pressure on your throbbing cunt for just a moment, but you don't mind because it means you lose the rest of your pesky garments. he swiftly removes your jeans and underwear, and before you know it, they litter the otherwise spotless carpet of the room.

the way he begins to position himself, you already know exactly what he wants, so you push yourself up until you're propped over the numerous plushy pillows. he smiles sweetly at you as you give him as much you room as you can for him to stay comfortably on the bed. then he happily settles between your thighs, tugs your legs over his shoulders, and presses the most infuriatingly soft kiss to your aching clit. his eyes look a little wild, like he wants to dive in with his normal fervor. but he's made today about spoiling you, and he's going to do just that. the slowness is the gentle side of his love, the side he wants to give you right now.

the soft, quiet noise that leaves your lips is exactly the kind he's looking for; lost in pleasure and ever so loved. soon enough, your hands are right back where they belong, twisted in his hair without any sort of harshness. in fact, you're rather gentle too, for now, fingertips full of love as they brush over his scalp.

he starts with chaste kisses that graduate to open mouthed, then to kitten licks that still make you moan with ease. he truly worships you with his mouth, and though he starts slower than usual, he grows more impassioned and messy by the minute, just how you like it. your arousal pools on his tongue and he laps it up like he's never tasted anything sweeter.

he barely comes up for air, much less words, so his hands are what he uses to praise you. with soft touches or a gentle caress, an encouraging squeeze to your thighs when you squirm and keen and grow short of breath.

"please," you pant, hips jerking at a long, hard suck to your swollen clit. you're going so good, his hands say, squeezing gently.

he only stops long enough to say, "cum for me," as he feels you getting closer, your hips getting more desperate, your noises louder despite the way you try and keep them under control, and your pussy fluttering wildly against his tongue.

"ohh, sam," you moan, voice breaking sweetly. "oh— oh, god. mm, fuck!" every noise you make goes straight to his cock, straining almost painfully in his jeans. he can't wait to sink into your soaking heat. and as your back arches high and your hips push shakily into his mouth, he knows he's got you right where he needs you.

his tongue is buried as deep inside your sopping cunt as he can get it, his drool mixing with your slick that dribbles down his chin. he just ravishes you with the way he tongue-fucks you, his movements feverish and nose bumping harshly against your clit so that your thighs tremble in his hands.

the feeling of his fingers stuffed inside you with his mouth on your clit is one of the best in the world. but sometimes the simple strength of his tongue and jaw is more than enough. his lips spread wide over your entrance, his teeth delicately scrape your sensitive skin, and his hot tongue pushes against the gummy walls of your pulsing cunt. and all the while, he makes the filthiest noises known to man in a shameless effort to capture every bit of your slick in his mouth. it's those noises, and the view of his proud nose smushed right against your clit, that sends you over the edge.

he catches your eye for just a split second before you toss your head back and a shudder runs through your whole body. your hips push up off the bed and sam's head follows dutifully, his relentless tongue working you through it with something that can only be called devotion.

you've been doing your best to stay reasonably quiet out of respect for potential hotel guests that might be in nearby rooms, but you can't stop the broken cry of his name that leaves your lips as you spiral through the ecstasy that he's given you. your vision blurs for a glorious moment, and he keeps your otherwise jerking hips flush against his mouth with a strong grip. even while lost in the throes of pleasure, him and his steady, loving hold always keep you feeling safe and secure.

and while he's overall doing his best to be a gentle lover today, he can't help but drag out your pleasure until it borders on overstimulation. he doesn't really know how to pull his mouth from you once he gets started, every damn time. so despite the fact that he pulls his tongue from inside you, it stays on your heated skin, licking up your slit and all the way to your swollen button to suck softly, just to feel you clench and twitch.

"s-sam," you pant out, fingers in his hair tightening after having gone slack for only a moment. right before you can moan out the words, too much, he pulls away just a few inches and sweetly settles your hips back onto the mattress. he lingers, of course, hands splayed over the tops of your thighs now and lips pressing soft kisses to your now sweaty skin as you catch your breath.

you don't have to tell him that he's pleased you well. he has your blissed out expression more than memorized. but you have a tendency to say it out loud anyway, with an breathless voice that only makes him want more.

"so good to me, sam," you mumble, hands slipping from his hair to rest atop his hands instead. he takes the initiative to curl his fingers around yours for a moment while peering up softly at the satisfied droop of your eyelids.

"you know i love it. love you," he murmurs in response, wet lips brushing so lightly over your clit that you barely register the sensation. it still makes a muscle in your thighs jump to attention.

at your beck and call, he crawls up to bed to settle next to you when you give a lazy tug to his hands. he pulls you onto your side and into his chest and happily lets you take the rest you need despite the insistent bulge in his pants that presses against your lower belly.

"i love you, too," you whisper, pleased and certainly satisfied, but still feeling your pussy clench at the promise of him inside you. however, you let yourself rest just like he does, knowing that you have all the time you need, even if just for today. nothing has to be hasty or rushed, and when his head tilts down to yours, there's nothing stopping your lips from dancing and tongues from intertwining until you just can't wait any longer to have him even closer.

though your legs still feel a bit like jelly, your energy mounts as you kiss him long and messy, the musky tang of your taste still lingering heavily on his lips and tongue. you love tasting yourself on his skin, and he loves the way you love it. he'd say it turns him on like nothing else if it weren't for the fact that nearly everything you do has the capability to give him a raging boner.

out of breath again, you part to rest your forehead on his, your hands smoothing over his scarred skin where they rest under his shirt. "i'm ready," you whisper, knowing he's been patiently waiting for you to say so.

he presses one more quick kiss to your lips. "okay, baby," he murmurs back, sliding off the bed to pull off his clothes before crawling back over you as you fall to your back. his muscled arms cage you in as they settle on the pillows by the sides of your face, close enough that he can brush your cheek with the tip of his thumb. when he dips his head, you lift your chin and meet his lips with the easy instinct of it being your thousandth kiss with him.

with his hips settled over yours, he reaches down first to swipe two fingers down your slit to ensure that you're still wet enough for him, then to line himself up with your still dripping entrance. you inhale sharply at his touch, then let out a shuddery breath as he taps his tip over you clit, just to tease. he pushes in achingly slow, never breaking the soft eye contact he gives you even when a shaking groan leaves his parted lips.

"so tight," he mutters, breathless, "such a pretty baby for me." one of his hands still rests in the pillows by your head, the other one now settled on your hip. you grasp at that hand, fingers curling around two of his as he stretches you wide, filling you to the brim and over with his throbbing cock. he grunts every time your hungry cunt instinctively squeezes him, your hips straining with the effort of staying nice and still for him. as he finally bottoms out inside you and a soft moan leaves your lips, he leans down again to press another sweet kiss to your lips.

he sets a slow, languid pace, each thrust deep and deliberate, aimed to pull his favorite sounds from your throat and bring you an intense, glowing pleasure.

"so good," he grunts, his nose pressing into your cheek and the heat of his breath tickling your skin. "you feel so good."

"you're— ah," you gasp, hand flying from the bed sheets by your thighs to his hip and squeezing hard as his tip hits right where you need it, "so perfect, sam." he lets his arm fold underneath him so that he's holding himself up by the elbow and close enough to bury his face in your neck and breathe in deep.

"you're perfect," he echoes, voice strained with pleasure. "so perfect, wrapped around me like this. squeezin' me so tight, 'n so wet." he words get cut short like they always do when he's worked up. you pant softly, arms wrapping around his neck and tugging him even closer as his thrusts grow just a touch faster and harder. each low grunt and whispered praise, both filthy and sweet all at once, heightens it all. you feel your head go just a little hazy, while soft sounds tumble from your lips and your hands cling tightly to his broad frame.

"please, please, sam," you gasp out, chest heaving and fingers curling into his hair.

"i know, baby, i've got you," he huffs out, voice honey sweet, "i got you."

the way he reassures you is certainly lovely and easily makes you feel all soft inside, but you haven't said everything you meant too. still panting, you shake your head lightly, "n-no, no, baby, i meant— mmm… please— ah— please cum inside me."

it takes everything in him not to start wildly rutting into you like those words make him desperate to. they shoot a bolt of sharp desire through him, but he holds back with a groan, stilling inside you.

"are you sure?" he grunts, voice rough with a stifled growl. but he's still serious, sincere like the perfect gentleman he is.

you nod jerkily, wanting him to feel how much you mean it. the clench of your pussy isn't even purposeful, but you feel how it makes him tense, his hand tightening where it cradles your waist. "i'm sure, sam," you half moan. "i… i bought plan b at the pharmacy yesterday. d-didn't know i'd use it so soon, but— but i want it. been thinking about it."

he groans again. you've been thinking about it. he still double checks, bottom lip momentarily caught between his teeth as he struggles to stay as soft and romantic as he'd planned to for today. he pulls away from you, just enough to look you in the eye. his pupils are so blown out that you can barely see the green color of his irises. "you're sure, honey? promise?" you love the way he says honey when he's holding back from fucking the life out of you.

"i promise," you breathe out, lifting your head to press a soft kiss to his lips. and where you're soft, he reciprocates with a fevered intensity, kissing you with teeth and tongue and an open, salivating mouth. he pulls out nearly all the way, slowly as if he's going to continue with the same pace as before, until he slams back into you, too horny and desperate to hold back anymore. you let out a sharp groan, welcoming his fervor and matching it with rolling hips and wandering hands.

your fingers dig into the flesh of his ass, trying to pull him impossibly closer, then roaming up to the small of his back where your nails lightly scratch and fingertips cherish his dimples.

"fuck, y'take me so good. so good," he grunts, breathing short and choppy as he really begins to exert himself. but his gentle romanticism doesn't fully disappear; his hips snap into yours while his lips brush a sweet kiss to your cheek until it turns to a moan. "feels so good. you always feel so fuckin' good, baby. so good for me," he pants into your ear, unable to keep the praises from pouring from his mouth to your ears, his face so close to yours that you feel every warm puff of breath.

"oh, fuck," you whine, "sam… yes. so good… don't stop. please. i wanna feel it. wanna feel you cum inside me."

he nearly does right then and there, but he wants you to get there first. he wants to spill into your spasming cunt as you're thrown into a reeling, mind-numbing climax, or even as you come down from it, sweetly shuddering and then given the warmth of him to prolong the intensity of it all for just a bit longer.

"i know," he moans, trying to sound sweet and reassuring, "i know, honey. gonna cum, right inside this pretty pussy." one of his hands finds your clit with ease, circling it just right. "cum for me. c'mon, want you to cum for me first, baby, please." his voice reveals his desperation, cracking prettily and going just a little whiny on the word 'please'.

if the overwhelming sensation of his cock pumping deep inside you and his perfect fingers on your clit wasn't already enough to guarantee your downfall, his breathy plea certainly finishes you off.

you try to tell him you're going to cum, that you're right there, but your breath catches too hard to get anything out with each thrust of his hips. once, twice, and then your trembling hands have crawled back to wrap around the back of his neck and pulled him flush into you. everything in you screams to have his hot skin on yours, his breath on your neck, and his body in your arms as your face pushes into the side of his neck and you absolutely soak him.

he does his best to fuck you through it, but his hips stutter and still inside you, the strength of your climax pushing him right over the edge just the same as you. the hot white pleasure is blinding; the sensation of you holding onto him so tight, your cunt clamping down with such intensity, the sound of your broken, pretty voice crying out his name.

you let out another moan, wordless and wanton as you feel his warmth spilling into you, reaching deep and filling you in a way you're unsure you can ever go back from. the heady groan that he lets out melds with yours, tongue and teeth meeting the sweaty skin of your jaw as his mouth falls open and he falls into heaven. you're both careful and responsible, so you maybe never should've suggested this at all; he'll never get enough of this feeling, of the knowledge that he's filled you to the brim with his release.

the haze in your head never fully fades, but you come down from it together, sam carefully resting atop of you.

"fuck, honey… been wanting to fill you up so bad. for so long," he murmurs in admittance into the sensitive shell of your ear.

"feels so good," you whisper, "so warm."

"took it so good," he praises, kissing the soft skin next to your half closed eye. he moves to gently slip away from you, but you tighten your shaky hold on him and shake your head.

"not yet," you mumble, "please?"

"of course," he relents without a second thought. he stays half hard, still buried deep inside you as he gently maneuvers you until you're laying halfway on top of him. you sigh in soft satisfaction as you let your muscles loosen and relax. sam cradles you close, one hand smoothing up and down your back, the other coming to rest comfortingly on the back of your head.

it's easy to lose track of time like this, held together by his caring touch and more satisfyingly full than you've ever been. you both close your eyes, lost in the warm closeness of the other.

you've certainly gone for longer than this before, but everything is just too comfortable; the (mostly) clean sheets, plushy pillows, and sam's sturdy body gone all soft underneath you. in the end, it's sam who breaks the soft silence as he feels you teeter on the edge of sleep.

"it's a little early to sleep, love," he whispers, cautious and willing to let you pass out if it's what you really want. he just doesn't want you to sleep poorly when the sun actually sets. "how about a bath? and that pill, baby. you know it's more effective the sooner you take it." you don't open your eyes quite yet, but you nod in simple acknowledgment.

"yeah," you murmur, "bath sounds good." sam never stops the soft movement of his calloused palm over your back, and a few moments later you breathe in deep before letting your eyes flutter open.

"okay. i'll run a bath and grab the pill. which pocket is it in?" he offers, his sweetness predictable but still making you smile.

"thank you. it's in the front one," you say, knowing he'll understand what you're talking about. he knows your bag well, just like you know his. he's slow and careful as he finally pulls out and can't help but find it cute when the movement sends a light shiver down your spine.

but before he can slip off the bed and take care of everything like promised, you let your legs fall open for him to see. a slight clench of your perfectly used cunt and then you feel his cum, still warm, slipping from deep inside you until it slowly seeps out, milky white and abundant. sam lets out a low groan and your eyes flutter at the feeling.

"fuck," sam mutters, voice suddenly gruff again and eyes fixed on the sight on your pretty pussy quite literally dripping with his cum. "shit, baby, you look so pretty like this." his voice is almost reverent as he watches another small gush of his cum drool out of you and onto your thigh. he licks his lips like he'd want nothing more than to eat you out like this. his gaze flicks back up to your face and his eyes—with pupils blown wide once again—reveal exactly what he's about to ask just moments before he speaks.

"can i… please?" his voice is almost begging. he really, truly just can't help himself. he asks only because he refuses to do anything that you don't want, especially today. if it's too much, he'll refrain and clean you up with a warm wash rag before drawing you a bath. but if it's not, he just might eat you alive.

and you're not one to deny sam, not when he asks like that, not when his request is also a promise of that perfect pleasure his mouth always brings. and god, just how he loves to see you taste yourself on his skin, you want the same from him. to have him eat his cum out of your pussy might be one of the hottest things you've thought of. and him begging for it just makes it ten times better.

"fuck, sammy, yes," you agree, voice coming out breathless despite the rest that you just had. the moment those words leave your mouth, he's practically pouncing on you. almost before you can process it, he hoists your hips up, swinging your legs over his shoulders. his tongue swipes up your entrance, strong and curled to gather up every drop of his cum from your pussy that he can. he swallows hungrily and groans lowly into your heated skin. the filth of it all and your heightened sensitivity already have you squirming in his arms.

he dives in, shoving his tongue as far into you as he can reach as if to ensure that he really can taste himself on every inch of your walls. he can, and his dick is rock hard again. he completely loses himself in the way you taste and feel with your cunt coated in his release. your taste, slightly sweeter than his own, mixes with his and he thinks it could get him drunk.

somewhere in the midst of lewd, wet sounds, his whiny moans, and your shaking thighs, he remembers that he has you folded up in a position that isn't all that comfortable for your back and manages to control himself enough to lower your hips back to the bed. he is no less shameless or messy, though. he practically slurps at you, as if trying to suck every last bit of his cum from inside you. as your wetness grows and drips out of your entrance, more and more of his load escapes too, and sam proves himself as the pussy eating addict you know him to be. he almost looks high, so lust filled and taken by this obsession that his eyes roll back into his head more than once and his mind goes fuzzy.

your own head goes hazy too, the sensation almost overstimulating but far too pleasurable to ever cross the line to pain. you might be sensitive, but you've had time to recover and he works what must be miracles with his mouth every damn time. you grind your hips up into his tongue, and his own hips rut absentmindedly into the white comforter. if you had the room to think of it, you might feel a little bit bad for whatever poor soul on the cleaning crew will have to be the one to strip your bed. you and sam will be sure to leave a generous tip either way.

but nothing of that sort is on either of your minds at the moment as he chases the height of your pleasure. for the third time today, and likely not last considering all the time you have, sam sends you sprawling into an intense climax, this time with his lips closed tightly around your clit and sucking hard. you swear your vision goes white as your back arches sharply off the bed, the orgasm hitting you fast and without much warning. and sam just licks and sucks and moans into your soaked cunt long after you collapse weakly into the bed. he drinks you up until your trembling hands push halfheartedly at the top of his head.

"t-too much," you pant, the words still coming out like a moan. he parts from you with a shuddering breath and a loosening of his strong hands on your thighs. almost as a sweet apology, he runs his hands up from your hips, up your sides, then back down in a soft, soothing motion.

"sorry, honey," he murmurs, swooping down to press a loving kiss to your lower belly, "can't help it. you just taste too sweet. always so, so good for me. such a good little thing for me." still settled at the foot of the bed, he gathers you up in his arms and pulls you up into his chest. he kisses your forehead with all the tenderness he can muster and smiles as you melt into his hold.

"it's okay," you assure him, voice soft and tired now as you feel your cheeks warm at his praise, "always feels so good. you're so good."

both his cheeks and heart warm at that. "how about that bath now?" he murmurs, curling his arms around you tighter for just a moment.

"mhmm," you hum, nuzzling into him as he hugs you tighter.

"yeah. such a pretty baby," he whispers, half to himself. another kiss to your forehead, then he's settling you back onto the bed with a thin blanket that was folded up on the green armchair in the corner. you just lay there and breathe, letting your eyes drift back closed as you listen to the soft sounds of him shuffling about the room.

first, his quiet footsteps, then the opening of the bathroom door. the rush of water through pipes, then splashing into the tub while he searches for the perfect temperature. he's back in the main room, unzipping the front pocket of your bag for the birth control pill. there's the splash of water again, but this time quieter. you peek through one open eye to see him filling up a small paper cup with water for you to get the pill down easier. when he approaches, the second eye comes open too, and you prop yourself up to accept the cup.

you're about to sit all the way up to take the pill from his hand as well, but sam shakes his head and stops you with a soft sound in his throat that you understand without it being a fully formed word. your lips stretch to a smile when he pops the pill from its package and holds it right to your lips. you accept it into your mouth, resisting a laugh at his slightly over-the-top actions. but it's just the right amount of sweet that you can't really tease him about it. and you can't say you mind not having to fully sit. you swallow the pill with a drink of water and let sam take the cup from you. gladly, you flop back onto the bed with a pleased sigh.

sam pads away, checking on the bath before soaking a wash cloth with the warm water and returning to clean you off a bit in advance. of course, his touch is delicate and careful, as gentle as ever. when he discards of the rag, you hold both of your hands out to him in an exaggeration motion to request that he pull you up.

he obliges with a playful grin that you match as he hoists you up off the bed and into his arms. you press an easy kiss to his chest before he walks you to the bathroom. you don't stumble or limp, but you lean into him, legs still a little weak with the strain of so much intense pleasure. he holds your elbows as you step into the warm water and eases you down, then joins you after shutting the rushing faucet off.

the water sloshes dangerously close to the edge of the bathtub, and realize this is the first time you've shared a bath with sam. you've shared plenty of showers, but you almost instantly find this to be much more comfortable. he settles behind you, leaning against the cold tile and letting you rest on his much warmer chest.

the bathroom fills with steam, sweet murmurs, the scent of soap, and the sounds of water gently splashing in the tub. your bodies occupy the water until it goes from hot to warm to room temperature. he washes your skin with reverent hands, you clean his hair with faintly citrus scented soap. your own hands are gentle and thorough, innocent in their touch this time as they run through his slowly lengthening hair, drawing soft sighs from his lips and tugging tension from his shoulders until they slump. he kisses you with soapy hair and lets you wash it out, head cradled in your hands in an act of simple, precious trust.

there are still a few hours of sunlight left in the day by the time the water cools and you and sam step out of the tub, dripping onto the white tile before wrapping up in cream colored towels. the swaths of fabric are still sort of annoyingly small, but certainly newer and softer than the kind that you're used to.

despite the evening sun seeping through the curtains and casting a post-rain glow over the room—there'd been a storm in the morning—you and sam crawl under the sheets for a little while, both delighted by the way fresh bedding feels on your now soft, refreshed skin.

that faint citrus scent lingers until later in the night, after dinner in a nearby restaurant and a steamy stint in the hotel's pool which you found empty by that hour. you'll admit to some frisky behavior in the public space; just slow, open mouthed kisses and a bit of heavy petting, all mostly hidden by the blue water and low lights. you both smell of chlorine by the time you make it back to the room, then citrus shampoo again, then back to musky arousal and sweat before falling asleep, tangled in each others arms and a plush comforter.

morning comes without tired groans or stinging cuts or monsters. just soft sunlight and fluttering eyes that feel well rested, for once. sam's big hands on your bare skin and his hair falling prettily over his forehead. your eyes open before his, but you feel the change in his breathing as he wakes just minutes after you. you tuck one of those strands of hair behind his ear and he leans into your touch like it's the most natural thing to do first thing in the morning.

"good morning, princess," you tease him, voice overflowing with affection like fountain too filled.

he opens his eyes with a scrunch of eyebrows and a frown that's trying not to be a smile. "princess?" he echoes with that perfectly beautiful, tempting morning voice of his.

"mhmm. you're just so pretty," you explain. he lets out a huff of laughter and you swoop in to steal a kiss. your lips brush his teeth before his own lips pucker to reciprocate.

"you're funny," he tells you when there's enough room to talk, lips still brushing against yours.

"a comedic genius," you correct before falling back onto your own pillow and grinning softly at the room's clean ceiling, void of water stains or other unknown but certainly suspicious patches of color that don't match the original paint job. admittedly, you're sad it has to end, but you're so grateful and content that it happened at all that you could never complain. sam hums absentmindedly, most likely paying much more attention to drinking in the look on your face than responding properly to your little jests.

you roll your head to the side, searching for the small clock on the bedside table and nearly shooting up in alarm.

"sam!" you gasp, half laughing even as you hastily sit up and turn back to him, "it's almost eleven! we have to pack up for check out." you never expected to sleep in this much; you and sam are so used to waking up early that you didn't even bother setting an alarm. but rather than checking the clock himself or sitting up too, sam just gives a surprised laugh, one devoid of any urgency to move or take action.

"you weren't paying much attention when i checked us in, were you, lovely?" he asks, eyes sparkling with teasing affection. he only calls you 'lovely' when he's so endeared or pleased that he can't call you anything else. his words stop you from leaving the comfort of the bed entirely. "i booked the room for two nights."

"sam!" you gasp again, your voice this time much softer, "two nights?" you repeat in mild astonishment. "is that— is that okay?" you're still fumbling for the right words, but he grins.

"of course it's okay, baby," he assures you, placing a hand atop yours, "'s not like we're paying for much of anything with our own money," he says with a humorous scoff. "not sure if hustlin' pool counts as my own money either, but it was well worth it."

"well, it's not your fault some people don't understand the sunk cost fallacy," you mumble teasingly, earning a small laugh from him. "and yeah. it was worth it. thank you, sam," you add, much more sincere.

"you're welcome, sweetheart," he murmurs back, just as sincere, before leaning over and kissing you sweetly. "how about some breakfast in the lobby?" your eyes light up at the mention of food and he smiles back at you, so you crawl the rest of the way out of bed, this time without any haste. you dress slowly, stopping of course to stare as sam pulls on his own jeans and casual button up shirt. it's not flannel today, which you're sure he's done on purpose because he knows you like the solid colors better. he's really spoiling you because it's a deep, irresistible green.

you stick with sweatpants, as you're realistically only required to look presentable for a hotel lobby breakfast and unwilling to give up the comfort. sam, on the other hand, you don't think owns a pair of sweatpants at this point. so, predictably, when you get back from the late meal, he strips back down to his boxers. the air conditioning is on high enough that he keeps the shirt on, but you don't mind. it's fabric is worn and soft with use, and the sight of him in just boxers and one of your favorite shirts is a highly pleasant one.

while you settle back onto the bed, content to just laze around until one of you gets bored enough to suggest something else, sam briefly rummages around in his bag. when he straightens up with a barely audible hum of triumph, you look up to see his hands occupied with three books you haven't seen before. your eyes light up even brighter than they did at the mention of breakfast.

"new books?" you ask in excitement, holding your arms out. sam complies, approaching the bed with a nod and handing the little stack off to you. "you are the best in the world, sam winchester," you tell him firmly as you examine the titles and he climbs onto the bed next to you. before he can respond, you drop the books into your lap and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a long kiss.

when you finally part, he rests his forehead against yours. "you're my everything, you know that, right?" he whispers, voice just hinting that he really wants to be sure that you do know it.

"couldn't miss it if i tried," you assure, hoping he gets it into his head that he makes you feel more loved than you've ever been. "you're my everything, too. you know that, right?" you echo. he nods softly, he forehead knocking against yours.

"yeah," he says, breathless like he almost can't believe it but would never deny it, "i know."

"good," you murmur, going in for just one more kiss before parting and putting your hands on the books. "so, what'll it be?" you ask curiously, waiting for him to choose a book first.

"how about this one?" he asks, picking up the title that intrigued you most. crescent. "i haven't read a novel in… a long time. saw you eyeing it too," he says, ever observant. "we can… take turns reading it aloud, if you want."

you grin. "yeah. yeah, i want that. i'll start," you say, taking the book from him without giving him time to resist. "go on. lay down," you order without any force. he smiles at you and obliges. he even closes his eyes like you hoped he would. your goal is to read him to sleep later, maybe for a nap in the afternoon. you clear your throat, more for show than anything else. with the other two books cast aside to the night stand, you open the cream colored paperback cover and flip to the first chapter.

"crescent by diana abu-jaber. chapter one." you glance back to see that he had only closed his eyes for a few moments. now, he's watching you with lovesick eyes. your gaze is similarly colored with adoration for the long few moments before you turn back to the book. then, you read to him like it's the thing you want to do for the rest of your life.

"the sky is white. the sky shouldn't be white because it's after midnight and the moon has not yet appeared and nothing is as black and as ancient as the night in baghdad. it is dark and fragrant as the hanging gardens of the extinct city of chaldea, as dark and still as the night in the uppermost chamber of the spiraling tower of babel…"

[cocastyle]

I See You

Pairing — Bob Reynolds x reader

Word Count — 4k

Warning — SPOILER WARNING FOR THE THUNDERBOLTS* MOVIE I REPEAT SPOILER WARNING FOR THE THUNDERBOLTS* MOVIE!!

A/N — breaking my two years of not posting in honor of this amazing movie and character. the Thunderbolts* has reawakened my fire to write and I couldn’t ignore it. so here you go! this will be a bit of a short series. i kind of envision around three parts or so? anyways, i really hope you enjoy this and know this is your last warning before you continue on!! so if you haven’t seen the Thunderbolts* please save this for later <3

also, did you all notice the easter eggs i included ?? 👀

Part One

SPOILER WARNING FOR THE THUNDERBOLTS* MOVIE! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!

Bob Reynolds wasn't quite sure how any of this had happened. One minute he was pretty sure he had been dying and the next he was trapped in a series of never ending nightmares. Except it wasn't just his nightmares, there were other people's too.

He knew he had been having these moments where he didn't remember things, knew that there was something going on at a deeper level than he wanted to admit. He thought with Valentina explaining this power he had been given that it would explain everything he had been feeling, that the darkness wasn't truly his but something brought on by this experiment.

But he knew the truth and walking through these endless nightmares only proved that. The darkness was his. It was a culmination of everything he was feeling, everything that had been consuming him, and it had only taken more of a physical form thanks to the Sentry project.

Bob had no way of fighting this thing, no way of taking back control of his body. And at this point he wasn't even sure if he wanted control. After all, he was just Bob. He was useless. He was nothing. Everyone would be better off without him.

So now he was trapped with no where else to go but to walk through the thousands of rooms of everyone's deepest regrets and shames.

It had been an accident at first, but sometime after his own meth chicken nightmare was when he first started stumbling into the other rooms. He saw so many things, felt the guilt and weight that everyone else felt. One in particular had stuck with him when he had ended up watching the loop of a blind lawyer watching his friend die over and over. Bob couldn't watch that for very long before he was hurriedly trying to get to any other room but that one, the blind man's cries still rattling his bones.

Bob didn't know how long he walked for or how many rooms he went through until he got to one that made him pause as he came face to face with Tony Stark. It had been a while since the hero's death, but still seeing the face of the man that had helped bring everyone back from the Blip made Bob falter slightly.

Someone's biggest trauma was Tony Stark?

Bob took a couple steps back, his eyes scanning over the room as he tried to ground himself in what was going on. He seemed to be in someone's apartment. The place would've been nice if it weren't for the fact that whoever was living here clearly hadn't been picking up after themselves in quite some time. And by the look Tony Stark was making as he glanced at the dirty dishes in the sink, it seemed he was thinking the same.

Bob knew the signs before he even saw her. It wasn't just the state of the apartment, but it was the feeling in the air. That feeling of despair, sadness, and nothingness. That feeling of knowing you were alone and there was nothing you could do about it. It clung to everything in the apartment and Bob's heart ached slightly at the sight. After all, he knew what this was like. He knew it too well.

"I can feel you judging me," a voice said, instantly pulling Bob's attention to the couch where a girl was sitting with a blanket wrapped around her and a bottle of vodka in hand. She wouldn't meet Tony Stark's eyes as she stared at the bottle, her fingers numbly fiddling with the label. "I didn't ask for you to come over and judge how I'm living. Hell, I didn't even ask you to come over, so you might as well go."

Tony let out a soft sigh, "Kid, you were ignoring my calls. Of course I was going to come check on you."

"Ever think I ignored them for a reason?"

Tony huffed and grabbed a chair from the kitchen table before dragging it over in front of the couch. He sat down in front of the girl, tilting his head slightly as he watched her before saying, "You can't keep living like this."

"You think I don't know that?" she asked, her voice bitter. “Why are you here, Tony?”

Tony just watched her in silence before saying, "Listen, Steve and Natasha came to see me yesterday and—"

The girl slammed the bottle down on the table so hard Bob thought it would break. Her eyes were red rimmed as she glared at the man and muttered, "No. We're not doing this. You're not going to sit there and try to rope me into some crazy plot to try and bring everyone back. It's been five years and I'm done, okay? I have nothing left in me anymore and I don't give a shit, so just leave."

"Kid—"

"I said leave!" she exclaimed, her eyes beginning to glow white with a power that Bob could almost feel beneath his own skin. "I'm not some sob story for you to try to fix, okay? I messed up and didn't kill Thanos in time and half of the universe had to pay for it. I'm done trying to help. All I ever do is hurt people."

She looked away, her voice rough when she whispered, "You're all better off without me anyways."

Bob sucked in a breath at that, understanding washing over him as he watched the broken girl do everything she could not to cry.

"Y/N," Tony began but the girl simply shook her head.

"No, Tony. I'm done. Just leave and go ahead and do yourself a favor and never come back. It's not worth your time or energy and I sure as hell don't want you here," she said, her head still turned.

Tony stilled slightly at her words. "You don't mean that," he told her, but before he could even blink, Y/N had used her telekinesis to pick up the bottle of vodka and send it hurtling in his direction. The man barely had time to duck out of the way before it flew right past where his head had been and shattered against the wall. Tony turned to her in surprise but the girl was already getting up and walking to the door of what had to be her bedroom.

"I miss him too you know," Tony called after her causing the girl to still.

"Stop," Y/N warned him, but Tony ignored her and instead stood up, his eyes not leaving her as he clearly made no move to leave.

"Y/N, he wouldn't want this for you. That kid loved you so much. He would be devastated by—"

"I said stop!" Y/N yelled and before anyone knew what was happening, a force was suddenly throwing Tony across the room. The man thought fast and his nano suit had wrapped around him before he could even hit the wall and Bob watched as the color drained from Y/N's face at what she had done.

She was shaking as she stared at Tony, but by the time he was looking back up at her, the Iron Man mask sliding away from his face, she was cold once again. "Get the hell out of my apartment," was all she said before turning and walking into her room, slamming the door behind her. Bob watched her go, frowning slightly as the scene began to play again.

"That was before they won against Thanos," a voice said causing Bob to flinch in surprise. He quickly turned around to find Y/N a little ways behind him, sitting down at a chair in the corner of the room. Her eyes continued to watch the scene playing out in front of her and Bob was almost beginning to question if she had spoke in the first place when she muttered, "That was the last time I saw him before he died."

Her eyes met his then and Bob stilled under her gaze. She was a couple of years older than the version of her from the memory, a little more put together but in the kind of way that screamed help more than her younger self's look had. She had learned to mask it more, that much was clear. Or maybe it was just that Bob knew where to look, that he saw himself when he looked at her and knew in more ways than one just how tired she was.

"Who was he talking about?" Bob asked, silently cursing himself for that being the first thing he said but knowing he now had to just go with it. "The guy?"

Y/N hesitated, her eyes glazing over as she got lost in thought. There was a tiny moment of utter sadness that flashed across her face but it was gone so quickly as she muttered, "I don't know." She let out a sad laugh. "Isn't that sad? It's like there's blanks in my memory. All I know is that there is this immense feeling of loss not just once, but twice. Every time I try to think of him it's like the image of him only gets fuzzier."

Bob was silent for a moment. "I have trouble remembering things too," he admitted. "There are these moments where it's like I'll wake up from a dream I don't remember having and that time is just gone."

Y/N's eyes flickered his way, her gaze shifting over him in a way that made him stand up a little straighter. "I walked through a lot of rooms before ending up here," she told him, her eyes still studying him as though she were trying to piece him together. "This was the only one I couldn't leave."

"Why?" Bob questioned.

"Why did you stop in this one?" she retorted and Bob blinked in surprise. Her head tilted slightly as she stared blankly at the boy. It was a moment before she looked away and back at Tony who was watching her past self slam the door shut behind her as the memory started back up again. "I just wanted to see him again, I guess," she whispered. "I always hated this moment, hated that I pushed him away like that and left him to fight Thanos without me. Sometimes I wonder..."

She trailed off before shrugging slightly and looking back at Bob. "Guess I was as shocked by seeing Tony's face as you were when you walked in," Y/N said. Bob barely even thought his question before she placed a finger against her temple and let out a small sigh of exhaustion. "Telekinesis," she stated. "Just a fraction of the power I was born with, but it comes in handy from time to time. I knew who you were the second you walked into this memory. Your mind is very loud, but not in the way you'd expect it to be."

Bob wanted to ask her more, but it was clear she didn't want to expand on that comment. Instead she merely tapped her fingers against the arm of the chair she sat in and said, "So you're the one doing this."

It wasn't a question. She said it as though it were fact. Not that she was wrong, but something about the way she said it still made Bob's throat constrict.

"It's not. . .it's not me. It's—" Bob broke off and he could see the way she stared at him, knew that she was reading his mind. She blinked and quickly looked away. "Sorry," she whispered. "I can't help it sometimes. You lock yourself away long enough and you'll find it harder to control what once was so easy. But I get a sense that you know that."

Bob let out a small sigh, his eyes flickering over the past Y/N who sat on the couch with a haunted look in her eyes and a tight grip on the bottle in her hand.

"We've all done some bad things," Y/N told him, answering the questions flying through his mind. "I had the unfortunate experience of being the reason half the universe died. I was there that day that Thanos went to Wakanda to take the Mind Stone from Vision. I was the last one there before he snapped. I could've stopped it, but I let his words get to me and . . . well, you know the rest."

“The Blip,” Bob muttered and Y/N nodded solemnly. He could see her trying to keep it all together, but the tension was practically radiating off of her as she avoided his gaze.

“Go ahead and say it,” Y/N told him, her gaze locked on her past self who was busy hurling the bottle at Tony’s head. “You probably lost someone in the Blip, right? Had to suffer five years without them? Who was it? Family? Friends?”

Y/N didn’t even give him time to respond as she let out a sigh as if everything were pointless, “It doesn’t matter. Everyone still thinks the same thing, but I don’t blame them.”

“It’s my fault,” she admitted. “I caused everyone so much pain and suffering and then, when I had the chance to make things right, I pushed everyone away and locked myself in my room. Then Natasha died. Then Tony. And eventually Steve followed. And where was I? Drowning my sorrows in a bottle like the asshole that I am.” Y/N scoffed slightly at herself, the fury in her eyes something most people would probably flinch at but all Bob could do was soften at the sight. “So go ahead and say what you want. Call me names. Shout at me. Tell me how much of a monster I am. I deserve it. I’ll always deserve it.”

Bob didn’t say anything. He didn’t know what he could say. Not because it was all too much to process, but because he understood it. He understood what she was feeling. The pain and the anger. The guilt and regret. The shame. He understood it in ways he couldn’t even begin to comprehend.

But the silence was loud and Y/N wouldn’t meet his eyes. She just stared at the scene in front of her as her past self’s voice filled the silence between them, her voice rough as she whispered, "You're all better off without me anyways."

Y/N flinched at those words, her face crumbling slightly as she leaned her head back and closed her eyes. Bob felt his heart ache at the sight and for a moment, he saw himself sitting there in that chair. But more importantly, he saw her. He saw Y/N for who she truly was. He didn’t know what to say to her to make her better, so instead he just thought it.

I see you.

Y/N's eyes snapped up to him and Bob knew he hadn't had to say that out loud. She had heard him loud and clear.

She stood without another word, her eyes never leaving his as she walked towards him. She was quiet as she stopped in front of him, her gaze turning questioning as she studied him.

You do see me, don't you?

Bob let out a small gasp as her voice echoed in his head. He stared at her with wide eyes, but didn't flinch away not even when she took a step closer so that they were only a breath apart.

I can feel it, you know? That darkness. It calls to me.

"You know where he is?" Bob asked and Y/N quickly shook her head.

"I'm not talking about the Void," she whispered. She gently lifted her hand and placed it on his chest, right above his heart. "Here."

Bob's breath stuttered and he tried to keep his heart from racing as he whispered, "W-what does it say?"

"That it understands," Y/N replied. "That it sees what’s inside my own heart.” She hesitated before giving him a sad smile. “Like calls to like after all."

Bob stared at her, his eyes flickering over her face. He had thought she was pretty before, but up close she was even more beautiful than he could’ve imagined. Her eyebrow quirked slightly as if she had heard that thought and maybe she had, but Y/N was already moving on which he was silently thankful about.

“You feel it too,” she said and Bob didn’t need to say it out loud to confirm her thoughts. After all, he knew what she was talking about and she was right. Ever since he had emerged into this room, he had felt a sort of tug. It was the reason he had stayed. He thought it was because of seeing Tony Stark, but it was because he had felt her from the moment he had stepped foot into that room.

It was because he had seen her before ever laying eyes on her and it seemed she had done the same.

“I don’t know what to do,” Bob admitted, his words strained. “Every time I think I’m getting better, that I’ve finally pulled myself out of that darkness, I just. . .”

“Get pulled back under again?”

Bob was quiet for a moment, his gaze dropping to the floor as that same feeling of shame that always crept up when he thought about his problems beginning to rise in the form of a blush on his neck, “Yeah.”

There was a gentle touch against his chin before Y/N lifted his head so that his gaze met hers once more. Her touched lingered for just a moment, but then her hand was dropping back down to her side. Not once did she move the one that was still resting on his chest and above his heart, the only source of comfort either of them seemed to need.

She gave him a sad smile, her eyes getting a sort of far off look as she whispered, “Sometimes the hardest battle you’ll ever face is with yourself.”

Bob felt tears prick his eyes at those words and for a moment, he even felt a sense of comfort. Someone knew what he was going through. Someone understood.

He had never had that before.

“How do we beat it?” Bob’s voice was barely above a whisper.

Y/N seemed to come back to herself at those words, her eyes locking with his once more and her hand tightened on his shirt. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “But I’d like to figure that out. Together.”

Bob swore he stopped breathing at those words.

“Together,” he repeated, tears filling his eyes slightly out of disbelief.

Y/N merely nodded and she gently reached up, her thumb quickly swiping under his eye to brush away a stray tear that had fallen. Her own eyes were lined with tears as she whispered through a soft laugh, “Yeah, together. As long as you’re okay with being friends with the girl who does nothing but screw everything up.”

Bob couldn’t stop the small grin that began to peak out, the corners of his lips twitching up slightly as he opened his mouth to respond.

It was then that the doors to the room flew open, darkness flooding in and covering the walls and floors with black tendrils as it raced towards the two. The two stumbled back and away from each other as they tried to avoid the darkness creeping in and Y/N let out a small shout when her past self and Tony dissolved into nothing but shadows.

“Bob,” Y/N called out, but the boy was already reaching for her. He had ahold of her arm within a second and he pulled her to the one corner of the room not covered in darkness just yet.

His eyes were wide as he scanned what was left of the room, his grip tightening on Y/N’s arm in slight panic and confusion as he tried to process what was happening.

The darkness had never come after Bob before.

Not like this.

Something had signaled the Void. Something had scared him.

Bob’s eyes flickered to Y/N who was leaning into his touch, the tips of her fingers already beginning to glow white as she clearly analyzed the situation. His fingers felt warm against her forearm and for a moment he let himself remember the feel of her hand on his chest, the way her breath had fanned his face, and the way her words had wrapped around his heart like a hug he hadn't know he had needed.

And he knew.

The Void fed off of his sadness and loneliness and whatever Y/N had been making him feel was the opposite. The Void would do whatever he needed to crush this feeling, to stay in control. Even if it meant there were casualties along the way.

Bob’s heart ached at that thought and he quickly turned to Y/N who was backing closer to him as they were pushed further into the corner of the room and her memory. She moved her arm out of his grasp in order to hold her hands up, a white light emitting out against the darkness as she tried to hold it at bay.

"Bob, what's going on?" she asked. "What do we do?"

"I—" Bob was panicking now, the thought of Y/N getting hurt making him feel so many emotions that he hadn't felt in a long time. It scared him how much he felt towards the girl within just one conversation. He already knew he would do whatever needed to be done to save her and that thought alone scared him in more ways than one. Even more than the plan that was beginning to develop in his head, the plan that would save Y/N but would mean leaving her at the same time.

As soon as the thought crossed his mind, Y/N's head whipped in his direction. "Bob, no. You can't run. You have to fight this thing. If you don't, the darkness will only continue to consume you," she said.

"Cause you know what that's like?" Bob retorted, his panic and fear making him sound bitter. "We just watched the same memory over and over of you letting the darkness take over. If you can't fight it, what makes you think I can?"

Y/N's eyes softened slightly. "Bob," she started, but the darkness pushed closer towards them and she let out a strangled sound as she strained to keep her powers in check.

Bob watched her for a second, his eyes flickering over her one last time before he leaned forward. His lips brushed gently against her ear and he felt her shiver slightly under his touch. His breath came out shaky as he whispered, "I would've liked to be your friend."

Then, before she could do or say anything else, Bob had pulled back and thrown himself against the wall of the memory. His body broke through the barrier and into the next room, the darkness leaving Y/N behind in favor of chasing the boy.

"Bob!" Y/N cried out as she attempted to lunge after him, but the darkness threw her back and by the time she was up on her feet again, the memory had sealed itself around her, forcing her to relive the same moment with Tony while Bob got away.

- - -

Bob didn’t know how long he ran for. All he knew was that it took forever for him to get back to his own rooms. He almost cried when the meth chicken scene appeared before him, but he didn’t stop there. He continued his trek even after the darkness eventually faded away, now satisfied that Bob was back where he belonged.

Everything was just too loud, the memories too much for Bob to withstand while that feeling of utter loneliness crept up on him once more. It was foolish of him to think he could ever have someone understand him, that he could ever have someone in his life without hurting them in the end. He had done this to himself.

He deserved to be alone.

At some point Bob eventually managed to find the attic of one of his memories, the only quiet place in this miserable void, and he was quick to tuck himself away in there, away from all the noise and the darkness that he could feel feeding off of everyone's chaos.

It was only then that he sat down and curled in on himself, his breathing shaky as he tried to push every last thought of Y/N out of his head.

"She's better off without me," Bob whispered to himself like a mantra, his head tucked close to his knees as he let the stillness envelope him in a hug much different than the one Y/N’s words had given him. “She’s better off without me.”

“Everyone is.”

[sepptember]

𝐌𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐒 — touya todoroki

↳ ꒰ I'ma put some goddamn moves on you, babe, i know you. need it.꒱

#𝐒𝐘𝐏𝐍𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐒 — touya has never been one for school dances, or school anything, really. but you love them. and he begins to think he might love you.

↳ #𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐒 — he accidentally hurts readers feelings for like a second, swearing, most definitely ooc touya bc idk how to write him, cheesy content proceed with caution lol.

requested by @rueclfer who's probably touya's #1 fan. mostly smau, but ther3 is a written portion at the end! sorry if it's messy, it's not proofread.

“You look,” You have to pause, your brain cogs turning frantically in search of the right word. “Nice. Like, really fucking nice.”

He scoffs, sending you a look that screams annoyed, but you can tell it's faux. “Yeah? What's What's supposed to mean?”

“It means you look gross most of the time.”

“Wow.”

You laugh, the sound much louder than you intended. “You really are a baby.”

He brings his hand up to your face and pushes you away, earning him a hard swat at the wrist. “Seriously, though. You do look really nice.”

You finally take a moment to look at all of him; the way his silver hair seems less frizzy, the soft hug of his suit around his surprisingly thick arms—holy shit—and you only now realize the color of his suit. “Wait, are you matching me? Is that why you asked to see what I was wearing?”

His gaze doesn't leave you. “Does it matter?”

“I suppose not.”

It did matter, because he came here. The shade isn't even off, the fabric almost identical—he didn't just get it willy nilly, he put thought into it.

“The dance doesn't start till 9? It's 4:30.”

“Pictures.”

“My mother could get us better pictures.” He scoffs again, taking a good look at his surroundings. He ignores the look Keigo throws at him—the one that screams I told you so.

Touya hadn't really planned on this. Not when you asked him for theme ideas, or when you told him about post-prom. But it wasn't a spur of the moment decision. The night he called you, when you started crying and told him about how something so silly had you stressed beyond belief. And it wasn't something silly to you, you liked this stuff, no matter how stupid he thought it was. You enjoyed getting all dolled up, the pictures, the people, the dance and the music, the stupid after-prom or whatever it was.

And he didn't want to admit it until then, but he liked it. He liked the excitement in your voice or the way you ranted on and on about the decoration ideas you'd come up with, the food, the stupid games. And he wanted to see you. He wanted to see you in person, get a long look of how fucking stunning you are in this color.

And when he manages to get his hands on you, now hours later, he doesn't know why he'd been so adamant about not coming to this dance.

You're looking at him—so sweet, so pretty—with your arms wrapped loosely around his neck and he wants to kick himself.

You're smiling at him like he's everything.

“Can I be honest?”

You hum as if you're thinking about it. “I dunno, Touya. Honesty isn't your strong suit.”

“Shut the fuck up, don't ruin this.”

“Sorry, sorry.” You amend yourself, your hand moving to pat his shoulder. “What's up?”

“I like this.” He doesn't miss the way you furrow your brows.

“The dance?” He almost says no.

“I like this.” His hands tighten carefully around your hips, pulling you slightly closer to him. “I like us.”

He says the last part quieter, making sure to move his face closer, the words mumbled against the shell of your ear. Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Your smile managed to get so much bigger, your eyes meeting his the second he pulled his head back, and he wouldn't trade the sight for anything.

“Show me.”

He can't help but lean in again, this time for a kiss.

[graywaynewriter]

In The Quiet Hours

A/N; I woke up with baby fever

Warnings: post birth/postpartum anxiety(?), stressed and tired reader

☆

The rain had started again.

You couldn’t tell when, it must have been during the last diaper change or sometime in the middle of the fourth lullaby. The nursery light cast a gentle amber hue over the room, soft enough to keep the baby half-drowsy, bright enough to remind you that morning was still far away.

She was still crying….

Not loud. Not panicked. Just the whimpering, fussy sound of a newborn who refused to sleep unless the universe tilted just right. You rocked slowly in the old chair, arms aching, eyelids heavy. You’d tried the white noise, the swaying walk, the pacifier. She spat it out with dramatic flair, like a tiny critic rejecting your entire performance. Your shirt was damp from milk and tears—hers and yours. You weren’t even sure when you started crying.

“I can’t—I don’t know what else to do,” you whispered into her soft hair, voice cracking. “Please, Mary. Please just sleep.”

She squirmed again. Your throat tightened. The sharp, guilt-soaked voice in your mind started up again.

She’s still crying because I’m not enough. I’m too tired. I’m not doing it right. I’m already failing her.

The door opened with a soft creak. You didn’t look up. You already knew the pattern of his footsteps, the way he walked barefoot across the nursery floor.

“Babe?” Dick’s voice was low, thick with sleep and worry.

“I’ve got it,” you mumbled, too fast. Too defensive. “Get back to bed…..please…”

“I know,” he said gently. “But I’m her father ya know….that means we’re supposed to do this together,”

You finally looked at him. His eyes were puffy, hair flopping over his forehead, and his shirt was rumpled like he’d bolted upright as soon as he realized you were gone from bed. The concern on his face made the tears rush up again.

“I don’t want to keep waking you up.” You sniff feeling your eyes sting and leg start to bounce from the anxiety

“You’re not,” he said, crouching beside you. “I wake up anyway. I just wait to see if you need me. And I think you do.”

You clutched your daughter a little tighter, trying to blink away the sting. “I just—I’m supposed to know what to do, right? Isn’t that how it works? Instinct or something? But I feel like I don’t even know my own body anymore, and I’m tired all the time, and I keep thinking—what if I mess this up? What if she doesn’t feel safe with me?”

Dick didn’t say anything at first. He just brushed your hair back from your damp forehead, gently, as if touching porcelain.You hiccuped out a breath.

“Because you’re not supposed to carry that fear alone. I see you—every single night, every feeding, every change, every moment you think you’re failing? I see how hard you’re fighting for her. That is instinct, babe. That’s love.”

He reached out. “Can I hold her for a bit?”

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat as you passed her off. She fit perfectly in his arms, and somehow—of course—her little body went limp with contentment within seconds. It made something twist in your gut. You rubbed your eyes with the sleeve of your shirt.

“She always sleeps better with you,” you said quietly.

“No,” he whispered back, rocking gently. “She just needed a shift in energy. That’s all. She still feels you here. She knows you love her, but she also knows you’re exhausted,”

You leaned into his side when you stood up beside him to look at the sleeping babe, your head resting against his shoulder, feeling your muscles finally start to relax.

“I’m scared,” you admitted. Your voice was soft and fragile, like a dam about to burst.

“I know,” he murmured. “So am I sometimes. But if we’re scared together, then we’re in this together. You don’t have to be perfect—you just have to be here. And you are. You always are.”

The rain kept falling, soft and steady. The baby sighed in her sleep. And for the first time that night, your heart stopped racing long enough to breathe.

The baby’s quiet breaths matched the soft rhythm of the rain outside. You stayed nestled against Dick’s side for a while, the weight of your body finally surrendering to the safety of his presence. his arm around your shoulders, his other hand cupping the back of your daughter’s tiny head, felt like anchoring yourself after days of drifting.

“Come on,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your hair. “Let’s get you back to bed.”

You started to protest out of habit. “I should—what if she wakes up again?”

“She might,” he said calmly. “And I’ll handle it. You’ve been running on fumes. Let me take this shift, okay?”

Your jaw tightened. That old guilt crept in again, whispering you’re supposed to be the one up with her, you’re the mom, you can’t just tap out—but he caught it before you said a word. Almost as if he could read your inner dialogue,

“You’re not failing her by sleeping,” he said gently, as if reading your thoughts. “You’re human. And you’re healing. Let me take care of you, too.”

He moved slowly, careful not to wake the baby in his arms. Gently laying a kiss to her head and laying her small body into her crib. He makes sure the monitor is set before taking your hand and leading you out of the nursery. Your legs were sore, your eyes stung, but the feel of his hand wrapped around yours, warm, solid. It was enough to keep you moving.

Back in the bedroom, he helped you slip under the covers, tucking the blanket up around your shoulders like he had the night you first came home from the hospital.

You blinked at him through the low light. “What if she cries and you can’t—”

“I’ll come get you if I really need to,” he promised. “But you’re allowed to rest without waiting for something to go wrong.”

You opened your mouth again, only for him to lean down and kiss your forehead, soft and slow.

“You’ve done more than enough tonight,” he murmured. “Let me do the rest.”

The door clicked gently behind him as he padded back toward the nursery. You stared at the ceiling for a long moment, the quiet suddenly feeling overwhelming. But then—you heard him through the baby monitor.

A low, gentle voice.

“She’s asleep now. Mama needs rest, but we’re still right here. You’re safe.”

You bit your lip, overwhelmed with love and something close to relief. You didn’t fall asleep right away—but when you finally did, it was to the sound of Dick’s voice quietly singing a lullaby from down the hall.

-

The next morning you woke with a start.

The sun was already pouring in through the curtains, golden and warm, and for a disorienting moment, everything was too quiet. You sat up fast, heart already pounding.

The baby. Why didn’t I hear her? Did I sleep through her crying? Did something happen?

You fumbled for your phone on the nightstand—7:46 a.m. Your mouth went dry. That was at least five hours of uninterrupted sleep. You couldn’t remember the last time that happened. You tossed the blanket off in a panic and swung your legs over the edge of the bed only to freeze.

There was a faint sound drifting from the kitchen. A soft hum. And the unmistakable crackle of a skillet. You padded down the hallway, feet silent against the floor. As you turned the corner, you stopped.

Dick stood at the stove, barefoot and shirtless, wearing soft plaid pajama pants and Mary wrap snug across his chest. Your daughter was tucked inside it, her head resting against his sternum, fast asleep, her tiny fist curled against the fabric like she owned the world.

He was humming something—one of the lullabies you’d been whispering all week, but slower, lazier, like a love song. He flipped a pancake one-handed, the other resting gently on the baby’s back. You leaned against the doorway, warmth blooming in your chest. You already had an attractive husband. Now strap your baby to his chest, and it’s doubled.

“Is it weird that this is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen?” you said sleepily.

Dick turned, grinning. “Good morning, beautiful. Sleep okay?”

You nodded, a little dazed. “I slept too okay. I feel like I time-traveled.”

He crossed the kitchen and kissed you softly. “You needed it. She stirred around four, so I fed her, changed her, and we had a little father-daughter chat about letting mama rest.”

You looked down at your daughter, still peacefully asleep in her baby sling. “She actually listened to you?” You raised a brow at him

Dick gave a dramatic shrug. “I’m very persuasive.”

You reached out, brushing a finger along your daughter’s chubby cheek. “I feel…human again, in a strange way…..I feel like I can function for a couple of hours.”

“I was hoping a stack of pancakes and coffee might help ease the transition.”

You laughed, hand resting on his arm. “Thank you. For last night. For this. I know I haven’t been the easiest person to—”

“Stop,” he said, kissing your lips. “You’re doing amazing. It’s okay to need help. You don’t have to carry every second on your shoulders.”

You blinked against the sting in your eyes, this time from something closer to gratitude than exhaustion. He squeezed your hand.

“Now go sit. Coffee’s already poured, a spoon of sugar, and creamer. And your pancakes are almost ready.”

You took a seat at the table, watching as Dick moved around the kitchen with practiced ease—your daughter sleeping soundly against him, the house finally calm, and for the first time in weeks…you let yourself enjoy it. Not as a break before the next breakdown.

But as something real. Something you deserved.

-🧚🏼

[thirteenheavens]

Seungcheol when read gives him silent treatment after a heated argument?

Broken Kisses|| Choi Seungcheol ♢

Notes: started to use my symbols now might be the last fic tonight :)

Seungcheol sighs as he enters the living room, finding you sitting on the couch with your arms crossed and a stubborn expression on your face. He knows this isn't going to be easy - you've been giving him the silent treatment since yesterday.

"Babe, can we talk?" he asks, sitting down next to you at a respectful distance. "I know you're upset, but we need to sort this out." You remain silent, your eyes fixed straight ahead. Seungcheol tries again, his voice gentle but firm. "Look, I know I messed up. I shouldn't have said those things during our argument. But you can't just ignore me forever."

The tension in the room is palpable as Seungcheol waits for any sign of acknowledgment from you. He runs a hand through his hair in frustration, unsure of how to break through your wall of silence. Seungcheol's patience starts to wear thin, but he knows he can't give up just yet. He scoots a little closer to you on the couch, careful not to invade your personal space too much.

"Y-N, please," he pleads, his voice softer now. "I hate seeing you like this. I miss talking to you, I miss hearing your voice." He tries to catch your gaze, but you remain stubbornly looking away. The silence stretches on, and Seungcheol can feel his heart aching with each passing moment.

"I'll do anything," he says finally, desperation creeping into his tone. "Just say something. Yell at me, scream at me, I don't care. Just don't shut me out like this."

"Why should I say anything?" you snap, finally turning to face Seungcheol with tears in your eyes. "You've made it clear that my feelings don't matter to you." Seungcheol's expression falls at your words, guilt and regret washing over his features. He reaches out to touch your arm but stops himself mid-way, remembering your anger.

"That's not true," he says firmly, his voice cracking slightly. "I care about your feelings more than anything. I was just... stupid. I didn't think before I spoke." He scoots closer again, his eyes pleading for forgiveness. "I'm so sorry, Y-N. I should have listened to you instead of being so stubborn. Please, let me make it up to you." Seungcheol gently takes your hand in his, holding it tightly as if afraid you'll pull away. He intertwines your fingers together, his thumb stroking your skin softly.

"I know I messed up big time," he continues, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I promise I'll do better. I'll be more considerate of your feelings, I'll listen to you more, I'll...". He trails off as he realizes you're still not looking at him. The pain in his chest grows stronger, but he doesn't let go of your hand.

"Please," he whispers again, desperation evident in his tone. "I can't stand being apart like this. Just give me a chance to prove myself." Your tear-filled eyes meet Seungcheol's, and his heart shatters at the sight of your hurt expression. He cups your face in his hands, his own eyes welling up with emotion.

"I hate seeing you cry," he chokes out, his thumbs wiping away your tears gently. "Especially when I'm the one who caused it." He pulls you into his arms, holding you tightly against his chest as he fights back his own tears. "I'm so sorry," he whispers into your hair, his voice thick with emotion. "I'll do whatever it takes to make this right." He holds you for what feels like an eternity, silently promising himself that he'll never let anything come between you again. The weight of your silence and hurt hangs heavy in the air, but he's determined to mend the broken pieces of your relationship.

As you sit in Seungcheol's embrace, his arms a comforting presence around you, the silence between you becomes less suffocating. The tension in your body gradually eases, and you lean into his warmth. Seungcheol's heart races as he feels you relax against him, taking it as a sign that you might be willing to forgive him. He holds you even tighter, burying his face in your hair.

"I love you," he whispers, his voice breaking with emotion. "I love you so much, Y-N. I was an idiot for saying those things and hurting you like this." He pulls back slightly to look at you, his eyes filled with sincerity and regret. "Please tell me what I can do to fix this," he begs softly. "Anything. I'll do anything to make you happy again." You finally speak, your voice still shaky but softer than before. "I just need you to listen to me more," you say, looking into Seungcheol's eyes. "And trust me. I know we have different opinions sometimes, but that doesn't mean we have to fight."

Before he can respond, you lean in and kiss him gently on the lips. It's a simple kiss, but it carries all the emotions you've been holding back. Seungcheol melts into the kiss, his arms wrapping around you as if you're his lifeline. When you pull away, he touches his forehead to yours, his eyes closed in relief.

"I promise," he whispers, his breath mingling with yours. "No more fighting. I'll always listen to you, and I'll never let my stubbornness come between us again." Seungcheol's lips meet yours again, this time with more passion and urgency. He kisses you deeply, pouring all his love and regret into the connection. His hands slide up to cradle your face as he deepens the kiss, his tongue gently exploring your mouth. The tension from earlier has transformed into a different kind of tension - one that's filled with desire and longing.

"I missed you," he breathes against your lips, pulling you onto his lap. "Missed being this close to you." His hands roam over your body, rediscovering every curve and contour as if he's relearning you all over again. The kiss grows more heated, both of you desperate to reconnect on every level.

"I love you so much," Seungcheol pants, his chest heaving against yours. "I don't know what I'd do without you." He rests his forehead against yours, his fingers tracing gentle patterns on your skin. "I was such an idiot," he admits, his voice thick with emotion. "I promise to cherish you every day from now on."

He peppers your face with soft kisses - your forehead, your nose, your cheeks - as if trying to memorize every detail. Even though you may argue time to time, you still want to marry this man.Even if it’s the last thing you do.

[inthelibrarybtw]

you want me to pretend? | ten

SERIES MASTERLIST

pairing: college!basketball!captain!rafe x college!student!reader content: fluff, college au, smau/irl, jealousy, jordan, rafe crash out, cursing

summary: You were trying to make one problem disappear. You were tired, so you lied. That small lie led you to contact the last person you wanted to ask for help. It wasn’t that you didn’t like Rafe; only that you didn’t want to deal with his constant teasing more than you already did. Also, you two weren't that close, but this one lie was going to bring you two closer and maybe help some truths come to light.

word count: 1.1k

authors note: ten? when did this happen? I'm really thankful for all the love that you guys have given to my blind children. Enjoy another flashback 😚 I intended to post yesterday but I got a fever and went to sleep it off.

09 | 10 | 11

Sophomore Year - October 2022

Sophomore Year - November 2022

Thanksgiving had been the perfect opportunity to finally get together with Angie and fully discuss the topic of Jordan. Ever since the day you two had met, you had been consistently talking to each other. While he had initially caught your attention, now it was a whole different story. You talked all day, every day—well, almost every day. 

“So you really like him right now?” Angie asked as she sat down on your bed. 

“I feel like we’re becoming really close; we talk almost all the time,” you said with a small smile. 

“Almost is not always.” 

“Yeah, on weekends he just disappears, but he’s with his family and doing a lot of schoolwork, so that’s why.” 

“Wait, so he just doesn’t answer on weekends?” 

“We talk, but it's very little on weekends. He reappears on Sunday afternoon, and we talk again. It’s a lot of voice notes, and I like that.” 

“Oh, he’s a voice note guy… Huh, he didn’t give me those vibes.” 

“Yeah, I like that because I feel it’s more real. You hear the actual tone in which he is speaking, and it’s just really nice to hear him.” 

“Maybe at first I wasn’t really sure about him, but I guess he’s not that bad.” 

“He is really sweet; we can talk about a lot of stuff,” you smile again. 

“You think it’s going to get deeper? Like are you and him, and me and Ethan, going to be having double dates soon?” she teases, and you chuckle. 

“Oh, we are already talking about that?”

“Yeah, why not? Ethan and I have been talking for two months, and I think he is going to be my boyfriend,” Angie says, smiling.  

“I’m so happy for you; he better treat you right.”  

“Same goes for Jordan; he better treat you right. But from the audio you have sent me, he does sound nice, and he was very unexpected, so…” She wiggles her eyebrows.  

“Yes, it could be something good. I don’t want to get too ahead of myself. We have been talking for just a month, so I don’t know where this is really going.”  

“So, Rafe…?” You shake your head softly, “like at all?”  

“I…” you stutter for a second.  

“Ha!” She pointed at you, “I knew it.”  

“I don’t like Rafe; I never liked him.”  

“Then why the hell is this on your bed?” She grabbed the jellycat he had given you for your birthday.  

“It was a gift; what was I supposed to do? Throw it away? It’s cute; I like it.”  

“So, no emotional attachment to that or the person who gave it to you?” You shook your head, not realizing your face was saying quite the opposite.  

“Right, so really, really nothing for Rafe?”  

“Yeah,” your voice faltered, “nothing at all.” You smiled, but Angie knew better than to believe you.  

“Zero? Nada? Nothing? Not even physically?”  

“Finding someone attractive doesn’t mean you like them; I told you.”  

“Ah, right, yeah.”  

“Angie, stop it; I don’t like Rafe.” She lifted her hands in defeat.  

“Fine, fine, you don’t like him.” 

Sophomore Year - December 2022

Rafe sat down on the living room couch. The house was anything but quiet, but at least the living room was now clean and free of a screaming Emily. His sister had gotten far too excited about her Christmas presents, and with every single one, she had screamed. He understood it, but he was also not in the mood. They all had helped her get her new toys into her playroom. Wheezie stayed with Emily, so that was why he had gone back to the living room. His loneliness didn’t last long.

“What’s that face for?” Sarah asked, sitting next to him.

“What do you mean?” he replied.

“You look all annoyed. I have a wild guess as to why, but I don’t want to get ahead of myself.”

“The thing is, I feel like I shouldn’t feel this way. It's not like she’s my ex, you know.”

“Yeah, but you like her.”

“Yes, that much was obvious; thanks for stating it again.”

“I’m just saying it's normal to feel this way. She likes someone else, and you still like her.”

“Are you sure she likes him?”

“I haven’t talked about it much, but she has mentioned it sometimes; not a lot, though.” He sighed.

“Well, according to Kelce, he has gone MIA for weeks, then goes back to talk to her like nothing happened, and he claims it’s just because he’s busy, but no one can be that busy.”

“I feel like your jealousy is making everything way worse than it actually is.”

“Yeah, well.”

“It’s okay, though; I understand it, but I do have to say that you need to eventually move on.”

“I know. I decided that a few days ago, but Kelce told me he thought she liked me, and that threw me off. I just started thinking about that.”

“And you didn’t talk to him about this?”

“Why would I?”

“Right, you don’t talk about feelings with the boys,” Sarah said, rolling her eyes.

“I have you for that; I don’t need them,” he nudged her with his elbow.

“Aw, look, you are nice,” she chuckled.  

“Shut up,” he chuckled back.  

“Back to the Y/N thing… I know this is not what you want to hear, but try to meet someone just for the fun of it.”  

“If you think I’m gonna get over her by dating someone else, you’re wrong. Before I say this, I know how cheesy and stupid it sounds, but that's just how things are.”  

“I’m gonna let you finish.”  

“I promise, the second I saw her, it was like the rest of the girls were nothing. I have tried, BELIEVE ME, I have tried talking to other girls and flirting with them, but they are all so… uninteresting, or maybe it is just because I really, really like her. I don’t even know why I like her so much,” he exhales and groans, “I’m so messed up.”  

“Wow,” Sarah said, looking at him. “Yeah… you are messed up, but hopefully you will eventually get over her, right?”  

“I hope you are right because this is embarrassing. Not even Topper got this down bad for you, and that man did some questionable things when he was trying to date you,” Sarah chuckled.  

“Yeah, well, it worked, so…”  

“For him. I’m not gonna embarrass myself, even if I wanted to. This problem is so easy to fix.”  

“Okay, now you lost me.”  

“Jordan. He is my problem. I could literally just kiss her, and voilà, problem solved.”  

“Oh geez…” Sarah sighed. “First things first, you would create more problems by doing that.”  

“Yeah, but he would go bye-bye.”  

“You spend too much time with Emily.”  

“She’s the coolest 4-year-old I know.”  

“Yeah, because she’s your sister.”  

As they started talking about Emily, Jordan and you got forgotten in the conversation, but not from Rafe’s mind. Much to his dislike, he was going to keep being annoyed and jealous about that for a few more months until he eventually called it a day.

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INTHELIBRARYBTW ✧.

[sweetpumpkinpieinwithcoffee]

Beginning, Middle and Everything Else (Part.1)

Gif is from Pinterest, if you own it please tell me so I can properly credit you.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: There is something wrong with Bucky's manners around you. Something really weird is at play and you can't yet put your finger on it. Unless...

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: humor, fluff, light language, idiot in love A/N: Hello, I've decided to try writing fanfic again and since I was watching CAWS I automatically thought about a little Bucky x Y/N fic. I think it will be in three part and nothing more since it is me going back to writing. Please, ignore the mispelling as English isn't my first language and I haven't wrote in it in a VERY long time. Enjoy 🥹

At first, it was really nothing. A brush of hand while bumping into the hallway. A glance that linger while giving you your cup of coffee in the morning. A door he was making a point to keep open just for you when arriving at the compound. Really, nothing very outrageously out of the ordinary. 

You had joined the Avengers a year ago and were still the newbie, even if Peter and Yelena were technically younger both in age and in training but to the team you were still the newbie. It was fine, you could make it work. Everyone in the team was friendly enough and, you being a social butterfly 

you could fit pretty much everywhere. 

Combat training in the morning with Natasha? Sure. Cooking lesson with Wanda and Vision? No problem. Taking Lucky out with Yelena and Kate? They would have never went without you. Even doing administrative work was fine as long as Steve was with you to crack some 50s jokes. 

And then, there was Bucky. 

While you were a social butterfly, Bucky was quite the opposite. At first, you even thought he straight forward hated you. He would act weird around you, staying on the side of everything, not answering to your message in the Avengers’s group chat. It went to a point where Steve had to said something to make things better. Sam was there too, to crack some jokes. You had felt like a teenager called in the principal’s office for doing something wrong. There you were, the four of you waiting for Steve to give a pep talk. You should have never been involved in this conversation. 

« Clearly, something happened and now we have a problem . »  Said the blond man while crossing his arms. « Care to give us an explanation? » 

You looked at him,  clearly surprised to be addressed. « I wasn’t talking to you Y/N. It was for Bucky.»

« Nothing happened. » 

« Yeah clearly. » You mumble.

« Y/N. » Warned Steve. « Let him speak. »

«  I just did. » Said the former Winter Soldier while scolding his lifelong friend. 

« What I hear is that you just decided to make the new one uncomfortable just for fun. » Joked Sam. 

« If I did I apologize, it wasn’t intuitional. »

« You forgot to pick my order on pizza night and almost shot me during our last session. » 

« I was distracted. » 

« I saw you shot right into the middle of a dummy while blindfolded Barnes. » 

« She got a point man. What’s happening? » Asked Steve. 

« Nothing. »

There was a long silence in the office. Bucky being stubborn wasn’t something new. Bucky being stubborn with Steve on the other hand was. 

« Alright, everybody out. » Finally said Captain. 

Bucky needed less to get the Hell out of it. Practically running. That made Sam laugh a little bit. 

« Don’t know what you did to him but I’m sure as Hell you need to tell me. Never saw this man this distraught. » 

« Shut up Wilson. » 

And everything went back to normal. Bucky being weird around you and the rest of the team treating it like it was the funniest joke ever. 

————————————————————————————

You weren’t sure when it happened but something went wrong during your mission and everything went to Hell. First, you got caught by a guard, then you got shot, right in your right shoulder. 

Impossible for you to continue on. And to be perfectly honest you were in such a bad position that you weren’t even able to stand up to get under cover. 

Luckily, you weren’t alone in the HYDRA facility. 

While laying on the ground, pretty sure death was the next thing you would welcome, a series of weird event happened. The lights were shut off, making you blind, a variety of mechanical sounds resonated around the room and finally multiple sounds of people falling followed. Your breath was ragged. First because of the pain, secondly because of the stress you were under. Were you the next one? What was happening? 

Then, you felt it. The lingering presence. It was his sent tho that informed you of him standing there. 

« If you find your joke funny Barnes I swear… » 

« Are you alright? » It was the tone of his voice that alarmed you. He seemed pained, worried. Nothing like his natural state. 

« I’ll live. Nothing Strange can’t arrange. Mean scar tho. »

« Can you walk? Or even stand? » You could now feel his presence all around you. He must have been close by the sound of his voice and of his combat boots. 

« Can’t do. Shoulder is pretty messed up. Got beaten in the legs. Wanna help … »

You couldn’t finish your sentence before being lifted up as if you weighed nothing. Gear included. 

« Fuck Barnes, you could have given me the warns up. » 

« Y/L/N is hurt. Bringing her back to the helicarrier. » Shot the man through is communicator. 

« You should finish the mission first. » 

« Can’t do. » He only answered while straightening his hold on you. « Need a medic asap. She is losing blood. Natasha’s style in Boston. » 

« If I remember correctly you were the one who made me bled in Boston. » Shoot the redhead through the earpiece. « Bring her in, we are sending the others after you. » 

You last saw Bucky Barnes when he gently put you on the medical bed. While half conscious after losing a lot of blood, you didn’t took the time to correctly thanked him. 

When you woke up, you were alone. But someone had left sunflowers next to your bed. And your traditional pizza order was in a container. 

————————————————————————————

Being the injured one in the Avengers’s Tower really sucked. It meant being on watch duty for every mission. Meaning having to stay in back. You’d rather ripped your arm than accepted this fate. So instead, you decided to take a break and were just staying out of the missions completely. 

You went back to your old hobbies while the others were out. Mostly, you were watching old classic movies when Steve wasn’t on duty’s call (only to help him catch up with pop culture), jogging with Sam (who was more than happy to not have a super soldier to compete with) or cooking with Yelena.

You were trying to make cookies when you bumped with Bucky for the first time after the failed mission. 

The man was clearly out of sleep and beaten. He hadn’t shaved in quite some time and looked like he had been to Hell and back. 

« Hey man. Want some cookies? » Asked Yelena. 

« Are they gluten free? » He asked while dropping his duffle bag on the kitchen counter. He was clearly hoping they were not considering the last time they tried a gluten free recipe no one would even finish a bite. 

« No way. We only used the good stuff. Here catch. » 

The small biscuit flew through the air and was caught gently by a metallic hand. You were truly amazed and considering how the mechanical thing was working so it didn’t crush it. 

And then, it happened for the first time. Or rather, you caught it for the first time. The glance. The way Bucky was looking at you above the cookie. The way his eyes were following the line of your body resting against the fridge. Man, it was like if he was printing the picture in his mind. 

« Something wrong? » You asked while checking your clothes for any trace of flour or butter. 

« No. Sorry. Gotta go. » Without a glance back, the soldier took his bag and disappeared into the hallway deserving some of the bedrooms. 

« Have I done something wrong? » You asked Yelena who seemed as surprised as you were. 

« No… I think, I think it’s not that. » 

« Then what? » 

« Probably nothing. I can be wrong. Anyway. Time for batch number two. » 

And just like that, the subject was changed. 

——————————————————��—————————

Bucky was fucked. Clearly and irrevocably fucked. He knew it, Sam knew it and Steve knew it. And if they already knew then it meant Nat wasn’t far knowing the truth. And if she knew, Yelena would soon know. And if that was the case then you would be the next to know and Bucky really didn’t want that to happen. 

« Shit. Shit. Shit »

« Language. » Said a voice from the couch in the living-room where Bucky had looked for some privacy. Except, looking for privacy in this tower was as easy as finding a specific needle in a pile of regular needles. « Y/N I presume? » 

« She baked cookies with Yelena. » 

« And ? » asked Steve from his sitting position. 

« She smelled like cookie. »

« I bet Yelena smelled like cookies too. » 

« It’s not the same. You know it. » 

« Ah. He said it’s not the same. » That time, it was Sam coming from the gym. « Dare I ask if we have drop the subject or is it the same one? » 

« Same one. » Answered Steve who made some place on the couch next to him to let Sam sit. 

« So she made cookies. Big deal. » 

« She is still injured. She should rest. » 

« She beat my ass the other day and I can assure you the girl is fine. » 

« What if she hadn’t cicatrize well enough? »

« And what if the Earth stopped turning suddenly? Strange is the best doctor. You know it Buck. » 

« The girl is fine and she is not made of glass Winter Princess. » 

« Don’t call me that. » 

« The point is, she is fine. Go talk to her. » 

« Does she knows about the flowers? » 

« Well she did get them. » 

« And you told her it was from you? » 

There was a silence. A tense and long one. 

« You didn’t tell her didn’t you? »

« No. » 

That got a bark of laughter from Sam. « Please do tell me how this man has been a menace for society for more than seventy years, is more than an hundred years old and still doesn’t know how to talk to his fucking crush. » 

« And to be honest he was really good at it back in the days. » 

« Or you were shit at it. » 

« Shut up old prick. » 

Bucky watch his two best friends bickering around for a few minutes before taking the last spot available on the couch. Taking his head in his hands he started to breathe slowly. 

He was so fucked. 

Truth is, he had never planned to develop a crush on you. But again, when did you really plan those kind of stuff? The first time he met you, he had just froze on the spot. Your bright eyes, bright smile and warm energy had just caught him off guard. Even more your kindness toward everyone. And him being so out of himself had just developed a weird habit of being a prick around you. When all he wanted was to be with you. 

That mission should never have gone the way it did. First of all, you weren’t supposed to be here. But Peter was sick and you had stepped in. But everything had been accounted for Peter’s ability and specific skills, not yours and when everything went to shit Bucky couldn’t move quickly enough to protect you. He had to watch you getting shot and beaten long enough before he was able to step in and finally put an end to your torture. He could see how distraught you were, how you were trying to hold your tears. Worst, he could sense how panicked you were to be found by him. HE had felt guilty for not having been quick enough. Guilty of scaring you. 

That was when he had to remember that stupid day in Steve’s office and the pizza offer. Truth be told, he hadn’t thought and just went straight to your favorite place and grabbed the same order you had placed months ago. Then he had picked the first flowers that had reminding him of you. Sunflowers. He had left everything for your awakening. Chickening too much to then reveal himself. 

Instead, he was now back in his original place. Watching you from afar, longing for you. 

He was fucked.