#stop glaring at me sparkles..

[hannibalhasthetardisat221b]

mmm, if I were there, I'd be kneeling for him too.. 😏 *blushes slightly* wait, did I just said that out loud.... oops. 😳

[kurooh]

★ MAKE HER TAPOUT ! — JUJUTSU KAISEN

⊹₊˚. featuring gojo satoru, geto suguru, nanami kento, ino takuma, fushiguro toji, & kamo choso fucking you till one of you gives out, or not!

warnings: 18+ content — mdni, fem! reader, creampies, gentle choking, cunnilingus, facesitting, backshots, overstimulation, jet sex, dirty talk, talking him thru it (ino), brief edging, filming.

xoxo, juno: SHES BACKKK 😝

GOJO SATORU # neither, it’s a competition

“aw, sweetheart,” satoru reaches up to thumb away an involuntary tear from your cheek, “you cryin’?”

“no,” you sniffle, and the shake of your voice betrays you. “o-of course not, satoru.”

mirth sparkles in his diamond blue eyes and he hums contentedly, as if he’s pretending to believe you. but of course he is—right now, he has to.

god, you were dumb enough to challenge him once he’d riled you up, and now you’re paying the price. a persistent burn courses through the muscles of your thighs, the exhaustion more than palpable now that you’ve been bouncing on his dick for so long. a messy puddle of cum has pooled around the base of his cock and sticks to your skin each time you sink down, serving as a constant reminder of how long it’s been.

normally, satoru would laugh in your face, then help you fuck him, but he’s choosing to be quiet because seeing you struggle is even more entertaining.

“you don’t have to lie, baby,” he squeezes your hips, allowing his eyes to trace the curves and slopes of your body, to commit them to his long term memory. “y’know, i love watching you ride me. it’s just . . oh, never mind.”

aggressively, you wipe the sweat from your forehead and glare down at him with dewy eyes. even when you’re crumbling into pieces, you manage to remain angry at him. “say it, satoru.”

an irritating smile splits across his face and he bounces his hips up just as you move down, just to punch a gasp out of your lungs. “‘s just that you were so fast earlier, now it seems like you’re struggling after all that talk.”

his cheeks are scarlet and growing darker as something triumphant basks him in its glow. you push at his chest and grind on him more insistently, even though the stimulation feels like bolts of electricity on your sensitive clit. “f-fine, is that what you want? for me to prove myself?”

“maybe.”

satoru watches smugly as you up the pace of your hips, repeatedly slamming down on his cock until you’re ready to give up. he grabs at your soft tits, and pinches at your perked nipples meanly, enjoying the way your cunt spasms around him.

a few tears race down your cheeks, and you glare weakly at him, not yet ready to admit defeat.

“my girl’s so pretty,” satoru whispers, harsh as he rolls your tender nipples between his fingers, “doesn’t she know when it’s time to give up?”

“shut up,” you groan, lower lip wobbling pathetically. this struggling is a hundred times better than being pressed into the mattress and fucked senselessly. “just be quiet, toru, stop running your mouth.”

“me? running my mouth?” he sounds taken aback, mouth agape as he regards you with a offended expression that settles across his flushed features. “sweetheart, please. look at you—”

not too firmly, you wrap your hands around his throat. just the sight has a new kind of arousal flaring inside your body, one that makes your clit feel incredibly sensitive after a single grind of it into his pelvis.

“you’re talking too much,” you hum, voice a little singsongy now that the tables have been turned, “can’t you just let me have this?”

satoru quirks an eyebrow, still challenging you despite blushing darker. “y-you’ve got some serious nerve,” he pants, voice coming out weaker than he’d like it to, “just fuckin’ wait—”

now it’s your turn to rile him up. “whatever,” you roll your eyes, the tips of your nails lightly digging into his soft skin. “maybe if you shut your mouth, i could let you go.”

“oh, you know that’ll never happen,” satoru scoffs quickly, almost as if he doesn’t want you to let go just yet. “you just focus on showin’ me what you’re made of. if you can.”

GETO SUGURU # you ‘tap’ out

when you’d invited geto to make a guest cameo on your onlyfans, you didn’t expect him to pull out all the stops to show you off . .

you wail pathetically, each and every one of your limbs feeling like jelly now. the consistent smacks of his hips into your ass bounces off the walls and only adds to the cacophony in the room—suguru has practically destroyed your pussy, his thick cock reducing it into a wet mess that squeezes him involuntarily whenever he makes noise.

“shit,” his chest heaves behind you, and he flicks his bangs away from his eyes to squint at your phone, “don’t cha look so pretty with me inside, sweetheart? come on, don’t make me lift you up.”

weakly, with as much strength as you can muster, you raise your head to blearily look at your phone screen. it’s constantly lighting up with new, colorful messages in the stream and rather generous donations—suguru has helped you pull in hundreds more than a solo live would’ve.

-> kchomo: she’s beautiful!

-> tfushoji: pussy made of steel

“s-sugu, ah—‘m still a little sensitive,” you struggle to gasp out, each deliberate plunge of his cock punching the words out of you. before you look into your reflection to confirm your suspicions, you already know he’s got a smug smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

“that’s even better,” he coos, smacking your ass and slipping his hands beneath your hips. “i’m sure everyone’s, ngh, enjoying the show . . but god, who wouldn’t, especially with a face ‘n body like that?”

suguru groans as he drags you up, positioning you to take his cock at an impossibly deeper angle. you choke on your own drool, hands slipping off of the floor as he moves you however he pleases.

“p-put me down!” you squeak awkwardly, feeling previous loads of cum race down your inner thighs in creamy rivulets, “what’re you—”

“jus’ giving them one last show before it’s time for me to take a bow,” his pierced tongue darts out to lick the sweat glistening at his cupid’s bow. “think you can take it? again?”

it’s more of a challenge rather than a request.

even though you’re spent and dizzy from the scent of sex as well as the feel of it, you’re ready to push through. after all, how long has it been since you’ve ever been fucked this good?

“bring it on, suguru,” and you don’t regret it for a second, until his nails claw at your skin when he steadies himself inside you, gearing up to go out with a bang.

“that’s my girl,” your eyes roll back into your head when he develops a pace right out of the gates, all too eager for someone who’s covered your back in cum more than a few times. “fuck, she’s so good. takes a fuckin’ dick like it’s nobody’s business.”

“‘m supposed to—oh my god, right there—be a pro..professional.”

a professional pornstar? more like a fancier way of saying you’re a hungry slut—but suguru doesn’t give a damn, not when you’re sucking him deeper and throbbing around him, almost synced up with the frantic pounding of his heart.

“riiight there, huh?” he can’t help but tease, voice taking on a mocking tone that seems to make the room burn a few degrees hotter, “is this where you want me, sweetheart? all up in this pretty lil tummy?”

oh, he even splays his fingers across your stomach and digs his heel into the soft spot above your pelvis, a move he’d familiarized himself with after combing through your account. for lack of a well formed verbal response, you nod your head, lips parting around breathless moans and pleas. “fuck yes, sugu. i need it, i need more.”

wispy black hairs cling to his forehead, held in place by sweat instead of their usual tight bun. since he’d stepped into your room and greeted your audience, suguru had become quite disheveled, and the thought of complaining never crossed his mind. no, he’d been too lost in you, his longtime porn crush whose page he checked almost daily—he feels his eyes squeeze shut when you cry out his name so loudly your throat will be sore tomorrow.

“oh god, suguru,” you’re entirely limp in his grasp and powerless to the wet squelches of your cunt as he rearranges your insides, “i think i’m gonna fuckin’ cum soon, ‘m so close.”

-> satojo: HELL YES

-> brattybunnny: the way he holds her >>

-> juiceboxbussy: im crying they’re so hot

ecstasy shoots through your veins like electricity, and suguru’s ability to hold back crumbles into nothing when you start to throw your ass back onto him. it’s something that derails the pace he’s set and the plans he had, but you deserve to be spoiled. honestly, after this live, you’ll definitely be inviting him on more often.

like a boat’s propellers, your feet kick out into the air and your toes curl as the tsunami wave of it all starts to crash over you. “i’m—sugu, ‘m gonna fucking cum!”

“all over my cock, baby,” suguru groans, too lost in your pussy to feel the beads of sweat racing down his temples or the burn of exhaustion settling into his muscles, “let—let me feel it.”

so you do, abruptly creaming all over his cock with an obscene whine that tears out of your throat and blesses the ears of every member of the audience. he’s finally able to let go as you’re coming down, pulsing cunt milking him of every drop he can possibly offer.

suguru nearly collapses on top of you once his empty balls clench, but you’re already struggling to hold yourself up without his help. the donations are much more luxurious now that the audience can get better views of your blissed out face and his matching reddened expression.

“let’s start saying goodbye,” he suggests, wincing as he pulls out of you. the air is hot, but it feels like the arctic outside of you—well, at least he can watch the deluge of cum spill out from between your thighs. you’ll be leaking for hours, and some kind of nasty pride swells in his chest at the thought of it. “honey, c’mon. gotta get cleaned up.”

-> satojo donated $150

-> thukuna donated $200 and said: js busted a nut

-> brattybunnny: i know that dick was good asf

-> juiceboxbussy: girl she’s knocked out 😭

NANAMI KENTO # you tap out

“ken,” you gasp just as the thud of a loaded suitcase resonates through the entire jet. the flight crew’s busy loading up what’s supposed to be an empty corporate jet, while kento’s associates busy themselves with odd tasks he’s doled out to them. “but the seats—”

“can be replaced,” he huffs irritably, not liking the fact that you’re busying yourself with pointless worrying over the seats. “sit down, honey.”

“i know that,” nervously, you glance toward the front of the jet, scanning your surroundings to make sure nobody’s coming in. “i, um, don’t want to make a mess before everyone comes in. i mean, what if you get fired because of it?”

as you ramble, you’re unconsciously pulling away from your seat on his face. kento’s gold wedding band catches the light of the sun as he immediately grabs your thighs, yanking you back where he wants you. his patience is wearing thin and if you don’t sit on his face right now, god help him—he’ll start thinking about devouring you in front of his co-workers.

“ah! kento, i don’t think this is a—” you’re powerless now; with his strong arms locked around your legs, there’s no way you can escape. it’s so risky, so dangerous—but the fear quickly boils into arousal that pools like magma in your belly.

happily suffocating beneath you, kento can’t help but smile when he starts to slurp at your messy cunt. it’s obscene, the noises he makes—smacking his lips like he just can’t get enough, grunting as that familiar sweetness settles on his tongue.

your breath hitches in your throat. “k-kennn, baby, you feel so good—but, oh, we don’t have a lot of time.”

for one painful moment, he lifts you up and stares at you with nothing but hunger in his eyes. “remind me about that one more time,” low and menacing, the sound of his voice makes your pussy squeeze in anticipation. “let me enjoy my meal in peace, honey.”

with that, kento firmly sits you on his face once more, and resumes his impatient lapping. his tongue is both soft and rough, forcing a stream of uncontrollable moans out of you. his nose presses into your clit and makes every sensation hit you harder, leaving you a hot mess atop his face.

“move those hips for me,” he lets out a muffled groan, and his eyes roll back once he feels you comply. desperate as ever, you start to rock your hips into him at an unsteady pace—the shaking and trembling of your body throws you off course.

“ngh, like this?” kento’s ears seem to perk once he detects that current of hesitancy in your voice. it’s so cute, the way you’re seeking his praise; his cock twitches in his pants, buried under layers of fabric.

“just like that, angel,” he gasps for breath before going back in—this time, kento starts to sloppily make out with your pussy. his tongue pushes inside and flicks around, experimentally going deeper while he kisses at your folds.

“oh my god,” the words are a euphoric exclamation, the kind that comes before an earth shattering orgasm—but then it suddenly switches into panic. “oh my god, kento! y-you’ve gotta stop now, your co-workers, they’re—fuck, they just got here!”

kento’s never been one to allow himself to be rushed. your orgasm, you falling apart on his face—it is much more important than his damn co-workers. he’s made you cum fast before and he can do it again. despite your thrashing, he holds you down against him and amps everything up until you start to sob out his name, choking on each syllable.

“they’re gonna get on the plane,” you sniffle, finally accepting your fate. the leather seats will be soaking wet by the time everyone boards, but there’s nothing else you can do but cum. “ken, ‘m really getting close, ngh.”

you nearly lock eyes with one of his coworkers when all your muscles pull taut and bliss bursts out like fireworks in your body. oh, and out of it too—before you can register what’s going on, cum gushes from your pussy and squirts like rain all over his face. of course, kento drinks in every drop, careful not to waste even one.

your jaw’s hanging open as he licks you straight through your high, greedy as ever so he can purposefully make you squeal. kento’s grip on you loosens and he smirks when you scramble off of him, squeezing your thighs together as your body heaves for breath.

“oh, look at that,” he cheerfully glances down at the leather seats, “you didn’t get anything wet, sweetheart.” except for him, of course.

then, out the window. “those aren’t my coworkers, angel. they’re marshals to guide the jet,” slowly, he turns toward you, eyeing your sticky thighs—rather, what’s between them. “no need to quit so soon, hm? tell me what you want.”

INO TAKUMA # he ultimately taps out

takuma’s more than lost in your pussy—he’s too far in to pull out even if he tried. it always happens so fast, too; from the moment you put it in he nearly goes cross-eyed and tries to think of anything that could help him not to cum. it’s so difficult, though, especially when you’re purposefully squeezing down on him and using your oh so soft hands to urge him closer.

he’s done for.

“takuma, are you—ah—are you okay?” before he could realize what was happening, takuma had instinctively begun to jackhammer his hips into yours. “oh my—mmm, you’re fucking me so well.”

“yeah?” he pants out, fingers scrabbling at your ankle to pull you closer, “g-give yourself some credit too, baby, you’re the one taking it like you were made to.”

it’s just how he is, always stuttering back a compliment whenever you talk to him. a breathy chuckle passes through your lips and is immediately followed by a saccharine moan of his name, a sound that echoes in his head and shoots straight to his twitching dick.

“it’s so hard,” he gasps, feeling an inevitable tingle in his nose and behind his eyes, “so hard to keep it together when you’re lookin’ at me like that. shit, babe, you’re gonna kill me.”

each word grows more frantic with every pleased moan that leaves your lips, and takuma’s gotta force himself to focus on something else. he’d been taught to cum with or after you, a rule ingrained into him that even applies when he’s jerking off.

the tinkling of your anklet near his ear serves as the perfect distraction, until it suddenly reminds him of the sexy position he’s fucking you in. with one leg over his shoulder and the other kicking on the bed, takuma’s cock is able to push deep, into spots you can’t even reach with your fingers.

your chest rises and falls rapidly, plump tits jiggling from all the movement, and his face crumples when you shakily press them down. “‘m gonna cum,” you wheeze, arousal burning like fire through your entire body, “you’re suuuch a good boy, takuma, feels so g-good.”

“don’t say that,” takuma’s pleading with you, shaking his head frantically as his cock starts to throb, “don’t, you’re—hah—gonna make me cum too fast.”

“why not at the same time, honey?” your free leg starts to circle around his waist, drawing him in without leaving an opening for him to escape. “c’mon, takuma, ‘m all yours. just f-fill me up.”

this is an offer he can’t refuse, a ball he absolutely cannot drop—the shakes of his head turn into frantic nods as he accepts, scooping you up to pull you just a few inches closer before he falls off the edge. he’s the cutest, trembling above you and babbling out breathless sweet nothings.

you cum hard on his cock, digging your heel into his lower back as you reach your high. it tears through you and leaves you dizzy, shaking like a leaf beneath his strong body. takuma, on the other hand, is so lost in you that he’s tucked his face into your neck and gasps into your skin. everything is inaudible until he lets out a hushed whine, “ngh, mommy.”

“mmm, takuma,” your nails rake down his shoulders, leaving long red stripes he’ll be proud of when he looks into the mirror. “what was that?”

takuma closes his eyes against you and swallows against the shockwaves of bliss as he empties his balls against your cervix. “h-huh, baby?”

FUSHIGURO TOJI # you will tap out

toji’s unstoppable—once you’re on all fours and throwing your ass back on him, don’t expect to be able to walk without being carried for the next two hours.

“oh my god,” you sob out desperately, voice cracking when you try to speak, “t-toji, it’s—ngh, ‘s too much, i can’t—” 

“doll, be for real,” toji snickers, almost out of breath. it’s been so long you can’t even feel your legs anymore, and he presses his large hands onto your squirming hips as if he’s trying to indent his touch into you forever. “you can take it. ya wanna cum, don’t cha?”

weakly, you look over your shoulder just in time to catch the wolfish grin on his face and the gleam of his pearly whites. his dark gaze scours your body hungrily, as if he’s on the hunt for something plump to sink his teeth into. sweat glistens on his chest, salt settled in the hard lines of muscle that define his body and showcase his strength. “if ya hadn’t been so fuckin’ impatient, i’d have made you cum earlier. but noooo, jus’ wanted to be all dumb, huh?”

“‘m sorry,” a scream nearly tears from your throat after another agonizing thrust of his powerful hips—his tip hits the soft, cushy spot deep inside of your cunt that always has you seeing stars. “toji! i didn’t mean to be a—fuck—a brat, i only wanted—”

“blah blah blah,” he groans, targeting your sweet spot with sharp, deliberate thrusts that make your eyes roll back into your skull. “jus’ shut up, baby. keep talkin’ and i’ll leave ya high ‘n dry.”

it sounds horrible—horrible enough for you to snap your mouth shut and just focus on taking his cock even though your hips occasionally jerk to the side. toji’s dick is huge, long and thick and unbelievably easy to go dumb on. your fingers twitch in the sheets, aching to scratch the lustful itch that torments your swollen clit; but toji won’t let you, not until he wants you to cum.

a long cry of frustration is released into the bed, and the corners of his lips quirk up in amusement. “aw, is it gettin’ to be too much for ya?” he croons, landing a few stinging smacks on your sore ass, “hope you’re not tapping out before i let ya cum, doll.”

“i said i was sorry,” bitterly, the words rush out. “w-why can’t i fucking cum, toji?”

a low wolf whistle trills out into the air. “because you like edging, nasty girl. did i fuck ya dumb enough for you to forget that ya asked me to do this shit to you, huh?”

that’s right. you had asked him to starve you of the euphoria briefly, but now it’s well past the limit. yes, fushiguro toji was no stranger to pushing limits—transcending physical thresholds to build his body into your favorite temple to worship—so naturally, he’s started to train you to do the same.

“that’s not fair,” you whine, feeling the tears building in your eyes, “haa, i’m so close.”

“don’t you dare,” toji hisses, wrapping your hair around his fist and pulling you back easily. “you can wait one more minute.”

he’s cruel, going so far as to rub your clit with his rough fingers to make you waver as you wait for the tortuous minute to pass. heat burns across every inch of your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake—it’s impossible not to start trembling, teeth chattering as you try to fight off the unescapable high that only seems to move faster toward you.��

“please,” you’re arching all over, nearly collapsing onto your stomach, but he’s got you right where he wants you. “h-hurry up, toji, i can’t hold it anymore—shit!”

“three fuckin’ seconds,” he grunts, the clapping of skin against skin growing louder as the seconds fly by. “‘kay, princess. go ahead and cum alllll over this dick f’me.”

you fall apart on his cock before he can even finish his sentence, cunt clenching hard enough to push him out as you fall forward onto the mattress. the smallest amount of cum squirts from your pussy, and that’s when he realizes he’s not quite done with you yet. toji licks his lips as he watches you writhe, settling onto his stomach to torture you all the more. 

“toji!” you can’t help but squeal when he grabs hold of your hips and licks at your overly sensitive clit, his dark eyes rolling back when he feels your pussy twitching against his tongue. “ugh, wait, ‘m not ready for—”

“ya wanted to cum so bad, didn’t ya? so lay back for me, doll.”

KAMO CHOSO # can’t stop, won’t stop

“hah, ‘m sorry,” choso borderline sobs when he delivers another sloppy, trembling thrust deep into your cunt. you’re folded up and blurry beneath him, all because he can’t seem to control the onslaught of crystalline tears that pool in his eyes. “baby, it’s—you just feel so g-gooddd.”

rampant apologies run out from his mouth, but they never quite land, always fading into nothing by the time he finishes the sentence. it’s not like he means a single one, especially when he can’t stop rutting his hips into yours, chasing both of your highs.

“don’t—mmm, fuck,” you curse when the tip of choso’s cock kisses your cervix, sending a brief sting of both pain and pleasure through your nerves, “don’t worry about it, cho, ‘s okay.”

tears race down his pink cheeks as more build in his eyes, despite his frantic attempts to blink them away. “i jus’ can’t stop, you—you feel too fucking good.”

a wave of heat crashes through him when he sees your eyes roll back, legs squeezing around his slim waist in order to keep him inside you. you’re as eager for his cum as he is to give it to you, along with a final orgasm of your own. his cock may be purple with overstimulation by now, but how could that possibly matter when you’re on the brink of bursting at the seams all over him?

choso chokes on a moan and fucks you harder, ignoring the annoying beads of sweat that roll down his temples and paste his hair down to his skin. even in the middle of winter, just the two of you are able to heat the house up as easily as a furnace could.

“oh my—fuck,” your voice breaks when you try to speak, looking deliciously dazed when your bleary eyes finally focus on his own, “y-you’re gonna make me cum again, cho, if you keep that pace—”

“fuckin’ give it to me,” choso begs, raspy voice edged with the intensity of ecstasy roaring through him, “jus’ one more time, just one more, we can—we can cum together, baby.”

he’s hiccuping over his words and losing control faster now that your hand’s tangled in his hair and pulling the way he likes. it stings, but he’d be out of his right mind if he asked you to stop—so instead, “harder, please.. ugh, just like that.”

“you’re such a freak,” you pant out, although you sound more than pleased to yank on his hair, “don’t tell me you’ll cum just from this?”

he swallows a lump in his throat and presses a hand to your lower belly, feeling around for himself, and soon enough, he’s able to feel the distinct swell of his cock inside of you.

“only if you cum all over me,” choso’s already delirious, mind full of thoughts of another orgasm even after this one. with you, he’s learned to control his refractory period, shortening it down to a mere two minutes that he tends to spend between your thighs. “please, you have to let me feel you, baby, it’s the only way—!”

“yeah? oh, are you gonna f-fill me up again?” heat floods your cheeks as your voice becomes more breathy, growing weak now that you’re hurtling toward your own high. “oh my god, ‘s like you’re trying to knock me up.”

something wild flashes across his face and takes place as a flickering movie behind his eyes. he has to pause, momentarily caught up in the idea of getting you pregnant. there’s something about the idea of your swollen belly and babies that really ignites a flame in the half curse—perhaps it’s all the more attractive because there’s a good chance he’s infertile.

“oh, fuck,” he sobs desperately, vision blurring with tears and his thoughts, “‘m cumming—ugh, ‘s all yours, angel, ‘m only yours.”

even as choso’s spilling white inside of you, his stuttering hips don’t stop once. now, he’s got a goal and he intends to achieve it, regardless of your cries of sensitivity. “slow down,” you whine, out of breath. “ch-choso, wait a second—it’s too much!”

“it’s not enough,” he grunts, shaking as he bulldozes through his own oversensitivity, “i’m not done, i have to—i need to put a baby in you.”

“i’m sure there’s five, choso, i need to take a second to bre—”

“just one more, i need to make sure. it has to happen, ‘m almost there. hold on for me, angel, please, i just have to make sure.”

[muffinlance]

Some spirit manages to get the gaang and zuko a link that connects their minds. They can share thoughts and their past with each other.

Tweaking this to “and they share dreams” because that’s how I started writing it.

---

“Okay,” Sokka says, wrapping his sleeping bag around himself, and grabbing a comfort Momo, too. “Whose dream was that?”

No one ‘fesses up. But it was kind of a rude question, and also a little rhetorical, anyway.

They all have nightmares with fire.

Having the Fire Lord himself looming over them, while they were on their knees? Not exactly a stretch.

---

“Okay,” Sokka says, “how does Prince Jerkface keep finding us?”

---

“Okay,” Sokka says, “how did he know that seal jerky seasoned just right with honey—not too much, just enough to add a sparkle of sweetness to the depths of savoriness, a perfect balance for the distinguished tongue to relish—was the perfect bait for his Sokka and Sokka-affliated-parties trap?”

“Maybe if you stop dreaming about it, Sokka,” Katara snaps.

...And they all stop.

---

“I’m going to think really really hard about being friends,” Aang says.

“I’m going to think really really hard about that time my boomerang hit him,” says Sokka.

---

Snatching the boomerang out of midair? Impressive.

Ignoring the Avatar to go hit Sokka with it? Repeatedly? Uncalled for.

---

“Sokka. The city is under attack. Right now.”

“Okay,” Sokka says. “But this is a strategic nap, Katara. We need to know what evil things our Evil Other is up to.”

It’s not like the evil fleet part was a surprise, at least. They’ve been dreaming of it for weeks.

---

“Okay,” Sokka says, looking down. “So the ship-blowing-up-thing. Not a nightmare?”

“No,” says Zuko, glaring up with his glare-face all glare-ful but his thoughts mostly full of bruises so deep they’re making Sokka’s ribs ache, and also his legs are going numb.

“Going to get out of the turtle-seal tunnel now?” Sokka asks, still standing over the opening. With his boomerang.

“...No,” the Prince of the Fire Nation says, as he clings onto the edge of the hole, his legs still very much in freezing water.

---

“Okay,” Sokka says, when they have a Fire Prince all tied up in Blankets of Imprisonment. “So. What actually was your plan here? Do not,” he interrupts, before the teenage-shaped bloodhound-leech can do more than open his mouth, “say ‘capture the Avatar.’”

The prince closes his mouth. Glares. And kind of fuzzes at the edges, in the way all of them do when they’re about to fall asleep.

BOOMERANG, Sokka thinks, and Prince Largely Ineffective As An Enemy jerks back upright. His Momo hat chitters a complaint.

“Since we both know your answer is ‘I had no plan, Sokka, ‘plan’ starts with ‘p’ and there’s no ‘p’ in ‘Avatar’’, we’re going to play a game instead. It’s called ‘sleepy prince free association interrogation time.’”

“...What?”

“Battle plans,” Sokka says. “Attack. Fire Navy fleet. Ship numbers.”

Alas, “Fire Nation intelligence” is not something with which the prince’s brain is overly burdened.

“...Are you insulting me?”

“Are you proving my point?”

Elsewhere, Yue laughs in all their heads. Zuko flinches. The prince has a very marked reaction to the laughter of princesses.

---

“Okay,” says Sokka. “So that just happened.”

Commander Mutton Chops is groaning. Kind of flopping. Much like the bag he tried to fireball. Yue picks it up, and gently wrangles a fish back into water. Sokka is still not clear on what the fish-napping was about.

“It’s the Moon,” Aang says. “Or maybe the Ocean?”

Aang’s thoughts are full of a FACE STEALING EVIL CENTIPEDE MONSTER THAT IS JUST ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE THIN VEIL OF REALITY and that is NOT helping Sokka think.

“Okay,” he says again. “So. At least we can all agree on one thing.”

This is a very diplomatic way of saying they all wanted to dropkick Zhao. But some of them wanted to do it more than others.

The prince of the Fire Nation is even paler than normal, and staring across the clearing at his uncle.

“I can explain,” the prince says, while he’s thinking, oh shit treason oh crap uncle wouldn’t hurt me thought that about father too

Sokka wordlessly plucks Momo from the edge of the pond, where he’s been swiping at the spirit-fish, and drops him on the prince’s head.

Everyone needs a comfort Momo, now and again.

---

“A raft, Zuko?” Sokka says. Outloud. Because it makes things louder when you say it and think it. “A raft?”

Aang is bouncing on his toes. “We should go get him.”

The Avatar is grinning. And thinking, really hard and deliberately, as behind them the Water Tribe ship finishes packing, We should capture the Fire Prince.

“Okay,” Sokka says, with a grin of his own.

[rafedarling]

Rustyn goes through a phase where he is very clingy towards the reader and wants to hug and kiss his mother all the time and whenever Drew approaches or kisses the reader, Rustyn becomes irritable because his mother is only for him ,sorry if he gets too involved English is not my first language

𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐚, 𝐧𝐨

pairing: dad!drew starkey x fem!reader

summary: drew loves teasing his little buddy especially now that rustyn has entered a clingy phase. he insists on being the sole recipient of your affection, becoming hilariously territorial whenever drew so much as gives you a kiss.

warning(s): fluff, teasing banter, a possessive toddler, mild suggestive humor between parents, and lots of adorable family dynamics.

au: like, reblog and feedback are much appreciated. taglist | tagging: @rubixgsworld @rafeyslamb @bisexualcvnt @tracymbcm @maybankslover @anamiad00msday @stuffyownswrld @httpsdrewstarkey @mileyraes @enjoymyloves @akobx @noobmazter69 @victwrvale @xoxohoneymoongirl @xoxosblogsblog @wearemadeofstardust0 @saviorcomplexrry @percysley @littlelamy @winniemoe

Rustyn just woke up from his nap as you sat comfortably on the couch, cradling Rustyn in your arms. At two years old, your son was growing fast, but right now, he seemed small and vulnerable as he snuggled against you, freshly awake from his nap. His tiny arms wrapped securely around your neck, and his head rested on your chest, soaking in your warmth.

“You have a good nap, sweetheart?” you murmured softly, running your fingers through his messy hair.

Rustyn nodded sleepily, his body still heavy with the haze of sleep. He hummed contentedly, nestling even closer.

From across the room, Drew’s familiar voice broke the peace.

“Baby,” he called, his tone laced with affection.

You looked up to find your husband leaning casually against the doorway, his blue eyes sparkling as they met yours. He wore his usual easy grin, the kind that made your heart flutter even after all these how many years.

“Hmm?” you replied, your lips curling into a smile.

Drew crossed the room in a few strides, leaning down to kiss you. His lips brushed yours softly.

Before you could reciprocate, however, a firm “No!” interrupted the moment.

You pulled back slightly, startled, and glanced down to see Rustyn glaring up at Drew. His tiny hand shot up, attempting to push Drew away from you.

“Excuse me?” Drew asked, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. He crouched down to Rustyn’s level, resting his forearms on his knees.

“Are you trying to tell me I can’t kiss Mommy?”

Rustyn nodded solemnly, his blue eyes narrowing in determination.

“Mommy’s mine,” he declared, his voice firm despite its high-pitched sweetness.

Drew chuckled, straightening up and crossing his arms over his chest.

“Oh, really? Well, fyi ‘for your information’, little man, Mommy was my woman first. Before you even existed.”

Rustyn’s face twisted into an exaggerated pout, his small arms tightening possessively around your neck.

“No. Mommy’s mine,” he repeated, his tone unwavering.

You stifled a laugh, brushing a hand over Rustyn’s curls.

“Drew, stop teasing him. He just woke up.”

“But it’s so easy,” Drew said with a grin, leaning down to kiss your temple.

Rustyn immediately reacted, a whiny “No!” escaping him as he pushed at Drew’s shoulder with all his might.

“Alright, alright,” Drew said, stepping back with his hands raised in surrender.

“I’ll back off for now.”

Rustyn gave him a triumphant look, his little chest puffed out as he settled back against you.

You shook your head, biting back a smile.

“You know you’re just making it worse, right?”

“Yeah,” Drew admitted, plopping down on the couch beside you.

“But come on, look at him. He’s like a tiny bodyguard.”

Rustyn’s eyes darted suspiciously toward Drew, as though ensuring he wouldn’t try anything again.

Drew leaned closer to you, lowering his voice conspiratorially.

“You think he’s gonna start charging me a toll just to kiss my own wife?”

You laughed quietly, careful not to disturb Rustyn.

“Wouldn’t surprise me. He’s been attached to me like glue all week.”

“Bathroom glue?” Drew asked, raising an eyebrow.

You groaned.

“Yes, even bathroom glue.”

Drew whistled, shaking his head.

“Man, he’s really got me beat.”

The next morning, Drew woke up to the sound of giggles coming from the living room. He rubbed the sleep from his eyes and padded down the hallway, stopping in his tracks when he saw you and Rustyn sitting on the floor.

You were still in your pjs, your hair loosely tied back, as Rustyn sat in your lap, clumsily stacking blocks. He was giggling uncontrollably.

Drew leaned against the doorway, with a fond smile across his face.

“Well, don’t I feel left out?”

Rustyn’s laughter ceased abruptly as he looked up, his expression instantly turning wary.

“Good morning, you two,” Drew said, stepping into the room.

He crouched down beside you and reached out to ruffle Rustyn’s hair.

“Morning,” you replied with a smile, tilting your head to kiss Drew on the cheek.

Rustyn, however, wasn’t having it. He quickly turned to block Drew’s path, wrapping his arms around you protectively.

“Mine!” he declared, his voice carrying the authority of someone much older than three.

Drew snorted. “Here we go… again.”

You tried to smooth things over, rubbing Rustyn’s back.

“Rustyn, sweetie, Dada’s just saying good morning.”

“No,” Rustyn said stubbornly, glaring at Drew.

“Wow, sassy” Drew said, sitting back on his heels.

“You really don’t want to share, huh?”

Rustyn shook his head firmly, burying his face in your shoulder.

You sighed, giving Drew an apologetic look.

“He’s in full cling mode right now. It’s a phase.”

“Yeah, well, I’ll remember this when he’s a teenager and wants nothing to do with either of us,” Drew said, though his tone was light.

Rustyn peeked out at Drew, his pout softening slightly.

“Mommy’s mine,” he whispered, as if reiterating his claim.

“Alright, alright, she’s all yours” Drew said, holding up his hands.

Rustyn grinned, clearly satisfied with his victory.

Drew shook his head, chuckling.

“You know, for someone so small, he’s got a lot of attitude.”

“Wonder where he gets it from,” you teased, raising an eyebrow at Drew.

Drew smirked. “Definitely you.”

You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips. Moments like this were your favorite.

By the afternoon, Drew decided it was time to reclaim some territory. While Rustyn was busy playing with his toy cars, Drew sidled up to you in the kitchen.

You were chopping vegetables for lunch when he slipped his arms around your waist from behind.

“Hi,” he murmured against your ear.

“Hello,” you replied, smiling as you leaned into him.

“You know,” Drew began, pressing a kiss to your shoulder, “I don’t think Rustyn’s watching right now.”

You turned your head to look at him.

“Drew,” you warned, though your tone lacked any real conviction.

“What? Can’t a husband show his wife some affection?” he asked innocently.

Before you could respond, the sound of tiny feet padding into the kitchen reached your ears.

Rustyn appeared in the doorway, his eyes narrowing when he saw Drew holding you.

“No!”

Drew sighed dramatically, releasing you and turning to face Rustyn. “Really? I can’t even hug Mommy now?”

Rustyn marched over, his little fists balled up at his sides.

“No, Dada! Mommy’s mine!”

Drew knelt down to his son’s level, shaking his head.

“You’ve got some nerve, kid.”

Rustyn crossed his arms, his pout deepening.

“Mommy loves me more.”

Drew gasped, clutching his chest as though Rustyn’s words had physically wounded him.

“Oh, that’s cold, buddy. Real cold.”

You laughed, leaning against the counter.

“You walked right into that one.”

Drew looked up at you, his expression mock-wounded.

“You’re supposed to have my back.”

“I’m just enjoying the show,” you teased.

Rustyn, now satisfied that Drew had been properly put in his place, turned back to you and raised his arms. “Mama up, pleaze.”

You obliged, scooping him up and resting him on your hip.

Drew shook his head as he stood. “You’re lucky you’re cute, Rusty.”

Rustyn stuck his tongue out at Drew, prompting you to scold him gently. “Rustyn, be nice to Dada.”

“Yeah, listen to Mommy,” Drew said, grinning.

Rustyn huffed but leaned his head against your shoulder, clearly unwilling to share you anytime soon.

Drew stepped closer, placing a hand on your back.

“One day, buddy, you’re gonna regret pushing me away. You’ll want my advice on girls, sports, life…and I might just remind you of this moment.”

Rustyn didn’t respond, already drifting off into another nap.

You smiled at Drew, your heart full. “You know he loves you, right?”

“Oh, I know,” Drew said, his grin softening into a tender smile.

“But right now, he’s a mommy’s boy so...”

“And you wouldn’t have it any other way,” you added knowingly.

Drew nodded, wrapping an arm around you both.

“Not for a second.”

[cosmicwavelengths]

staring problem

pairing: avenger! bucky barnes x physical therapist! reader summary: you’ve been working with sam, joaquin, and bucky for the past few months, and you couldn’t help but notice how bucky just… stares. (based off of dialogue from the falcon and the winter soldier: “does he always just stare like that?” “you get used to it.” and “you’re doing the staring thing again.” + more)

a/n: hello and welcome to my first one shot! i saw captain america: brave new world last week and it was tremendous! i went back and watched the falcon and the winter soldier and it inspired me to write this fic. i've been pretty excited to share this, so i hope you enjoy! likes and reblogs are always appreciated forehead kiss

comments/tags: ca:bnw (spoilers!), fluff, bucky barnes is a 106 year old grumpy ass, bucky has a staring problem (quite severely), physical therapist/trainer f! reader, sam wilson, joaquin torres, bucky doesn’t hate joaquin here but he has a youthful energy that old man barnes finds mildly exhausting (sometimes), there’s technically a girthy age gap between bucky and reader (probably 60-80 years) but bucky can’t help that so we will collectively ignore it, strangers-to-lovers except bucky is just Confused, no y/n use

cw: mentions of alcohol (drinking, reader getting drunk), sebastian stan’s intense glare (swoon), kissing, language (bucky has a potty mouth)

wc: 3.9k | masterlist | ao3 ────୨ৎ────

In his 106 or so years, you were the first person who Bucky Barnes met that genuinely perplexed  him. And he couldn’t exactly put his finger on why.

During his over-extended life, he prided himself on his ability to read people and understand their intentions almost immediately. Maybe he’s a cynic, but he finds it to be much easier to organize the recurring figures of his life into different areas of his mind. Of course, there’s the rare individual that Bucky genuinely likes, such as Sam. And with others he tolerates, like Joaquín. But you? He wasn’t exactly sure how he felt. And if Bucky was being honest with himself, it scares him.

Considering he already knows almost everything about you, it’s almost frustrating how little Bucky truly knows you. Sure, Joaquín sat you all down as a group to discuss their new physical therapist. Similar to Joaquín in age, graduated from college not too long ago,, has significant experience with working with service men. You’ve been working with them for nearly six months already, and Bucky has yet to properly assess where you sit in his brain.

Whenever you entered the room -- any room, you had a certain energy. Maybe it’s the way you carry yourself, but you seem to have this natural ability to alter the space around you in some way. Your teeth and eyes seemed to sparkle, the way they open up so wide to greet him and the others at the beginning of each training session.

“Does he always just stare like that?” you inquire quietly, leaning over to Sam as you create a hamstring out of a roll of kinesiology tape. You subtly nudge your arm in the general direction where Bucky stood next to the weight rack.

Sam chuckles, “You get used to it.” You shrug in response, putting your head down and continuing to wrap the tape around his calf. “He might be a bionic staring machine, but he’s been through a lot. It’s just how he is, I wouldn’t take it personally,” he smiles down at you. Making a quick glance in his direction, Bucky continues to stare pointedly, brows furrowed and jaw clenched. Intimidating. You suppose any regular person would be skeeved out under such intense pressure, but it makes you rather demure. Even though you’re looking in his direction, he continues to look at you with his intense eyes. You’d think that most people would stop after being noticed, especially since you’ve caught him staring at you more than twice, but he continues with his piercing gaze anyways. 

Since Sam had decided to rebuild the Avengers, you had been brought in as their physical therapist. If you were honest, you weren’t exactly sure why superheroes of all people needed physical therapy, with what cutting edge technology and medicine they have at their disposal, but it pays well and you can’t complain about that in this economy.. Since starting, you’ve already become relatively close with Sam and Joaquín. But Bucky…

…Well, judging by the way he’s practically staring through you, you’d be safe in assuming that he hates you or something. You’ve not really had a chance to have a full fledged conversation with him. You helped him stretch, applied kinesio tape when asked. Within your first few days here, you surmised that he was just a private person. But, you’ve seen the quick smiles he flashed at Sam and the occasional short conversation with Joaquín. You normally don’t take these things too personally, but the people pleaser side of you tends to rear its ugly head. Aside from that, there was something about Bucky that made you want him to like you at least a little bit. You’ve tried your best to be friendly to him during your brief interactions, but he didn’t seem to have much of an interest in conversing with you past exchanging pleasantries. Even though it hurts a little, it’s just how some of these jobs go, after all, you can’t expect to be friends with all your clients. But his nearly constant staring at you is… menacing.

“I just don’t think he’s taken to me that well,” you breathe, finishing the wrap on his quad and cutting away the excess tape with scissors. “He doesn’t seem to like talking to me… or like me, at all.”

“It’s not you,” Sam reassures gently. “Give him some time to open up.”

--

“Y’know, you probably scare her with how much you stare at her like that.”

Bucky re-racked the weights with much more force than he wanted, causing the weights to make a heavy clunk sound against the metal, making her and Sam’s heads snap over in their direction. Shit.

Bucky looks at Joaquín and frowns. “Don’t sneak up on me like that. And I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Dude, you have something of a staring problem,” says Joaquín. “Do you know that? It’s important to us that you know that. You have zero tact.”

Bucky grumbles under his breath in response, turning back to the weight rack to select a heavier dumbbell. “At least say something to her when we go out later? You can tell it bothers her,” Joaquín offers with a smile. Bucky steps back from the rack, preparing for his next set. “Stay out of my business, Torres.”

“This seems like a very unnatural problem for someone like you to have. Maybe we should call Wakanda, tell them that our cyborg puppet has stopped working and is in urgent need of recalibration.”

“Fuck off.”

--

The bar is loud. Far too loud for Bucky’s taste as he enters the establishment with Sam. Had it been up to him, he would have picked his usual quiet spot near his apartment. But, it is her six month anniversary of working with the guys, and Bucky wasn’t going to miss a chance to drink for free on Sam’s tab. Bucky stuffs his hands deeper into the pockets of his leather jacket, scanning the many faces around the room. Keep an eye out for any potential threats…

“Well?” Sam asks, turning to Bucky and breaking him out of his concentration. Bucky’s jaw tightens, “Don’t you and Torres know better than to be in my business?” he says, crabbily. Sam shrugs his shoulders, hands out in defense. “Hey! I just want you to be happy, man. Just think about what Torres said, maybe?” He steps back from Bucky with a smile, clapping his hand against Bucky’s shoulder before approaching Joaquín at the bar. And there you are, sitting next to Joaquín, shining like the stars and moon… yet unsteady. Your warm expression grows upon seeing Sam, pulling him into a tight hug. What the hell, sure, Bucky ponders briefly before stalking up to the only open space in the bar and ordering a beer.

“Sam!” you answer excitedly, throwing your arms around him in a warm hug. He reciprocates in kind, saying a quick greeting during the embrace. “Wo-oah there!” Sam teases, “Has Joaquín here been filling you up with drinks here?” He gestures to the glassware that you and Joaquín collected, lightly crowding the bar surface.

“Hey, look, it’s a cheat night for all of us, and more importantly, her six month work anniversary!” Joaquín reminds Sam with a laugh. “Yes, tonight is all about me, guys,” you tease, smiling lazily at them. You generally don’t make it a habit to engage with clients outside of the gym, but Sam and Joaquín had truly welcomed you to the team with open arms these last few months. It was truly kind of Sam to pick up the tab tonight, and you’d feel rude refusing.

You settle back into your barstool as Sam and Joaquín begin a conversation. You scan the many faces around the U-shaped bar until you notice Bucky standing there, waiting on his drink. He’s of average height, about six feet tall or so, yet he stands out among the others around him. He wears his infamous scowl as he toys with his leather gloves. You took care in noticing how the light of the bar catches his upper cheek bone and the top of his jawline by his ear. His brooding blue eyes as they scan the area round him. So intimidating… yet..

He glances up at you quickly, incidentally locking eyes with you across the bar. Your eyes grow wide, feeling smaller than you’ve ever felt before. It’s almost eerie the way he studies you, as if he is trying to memorize every atom and particle of your facial structure. You almost freeze under his watch, sobering up a little as you sit up straighter. Properly. You cast out your usual friendly gestures, an invitation -- a small smile and a shy wave of your finger tips. Maybe it’s your alcohol-muddled brain playing tricks on you, but you could’ve sworn that the corner of his lips turned ever so slightly upwards.

It felt like time stopped when Bucky noticed you. The small wisps of your hair caught by the lowlights above the bar, reaching to the bow of the lips that once held a grin. Your wide eyes holding a sparkle of light. How he can see the way your skin flushes due to your alcohol consumption. Bucky finds it adorable the way you lightly smile at him, waving your hand gently. He sees the way you’re a bit wobbly, having to lean against the bar to keep things steady. He couldn’t help but be amused. His attention is torn away by the bartender setting down the beer bottle in front of him. Bucky fishes for cash in his pocket, setting it in the man’s hand and finally approaching the group.

He stuffs his beer-less hand deep into his jacket pocket as he stops next to Sam. He claps his hand on Bucky’s shoulder in greeting, Bucky acknowledges him with a slight nod of his head. “Bucky!” Sam exclaims, gesturing to the group. “Welcome. We were wondering when you’d show up!” Bucky looks at him with a tired expression. “Lost track of time at the gym,” he mumbles. “Likely story,” Joaquín laughs, before being cut short by Bucky nudging him sharply with his flesh elbow, using a bit more force than necessary.

--

Minutes pass. Then an hour. Two hours. Rounds of drinks later, you all lapse into steady conversation telling lively stories of the past, previous jobs, missions, interactions with other superheroes. You and Joaquín chortle together loudly at Sam’s seemingly endless stream of stories and jokes, while Bucky resigns himself to polite nods as he sips on his beer. The initial lively crowd of the bar had died down to the regular crowd, who’d delegated themselves to chatting amongst themselves, playing darts and shooting pool.

Several vodka cranberries in, your face and hands feel oddly numb, and the room spins more than usual. Shame on you for thinking you can match Joaquín drink for drink. Sam and Joaquín throw back the last of their drinks before heading off to the pool tables. Bucky stares off at them as they apply blue chalk to the tips of their cue sticks, ready to begin a match.

Turning towards Bucky, you prop yourself up against the bar, cheek in hand. You attempt to mock the way he stares at you, to make him feel how you’ve felt all these months.

“So,” you hiccup, interrupting yourself with a shy giggle. “What’s your deal?” You mockingly raise an eyebrow. “What’s your damage, Bucky? What is it about me you don’t like?” It slips out so easily. You should be embarrassed, but you’re far too gone.

Bucky sits up straight, giving you an unsure glance. That’s new. “I’m not sure what you--.”

“And you’re doing that staring thing again, that thing you do with me,” you comment, words slurring slightly as you gesturing unsteadily in Sam and Joaquín’s direction. “When you look at me like that, I can’t tell if ‘ya like or hate me!”

“Y’know, maybe I’m a people pleaser or sumthin’, but I-I really want you to like me, I think,” you sigh. Shrugging comically, you throw back the rest of your drink sitting on the bar. Leaning over, you clap your hand over his large gloved one. Bucky freezes, suddenly being hyper aware of what you’re doing and how small your hand feels compared to his. “And y’know what else? I don’t even mind when you stare at me like that. It’s almost as hot as it is intimidating.”

Bucky was warm -- not from the alcohol. He knows he can’t really get drunk anymore due to the serum, but he still feels the sweat from his palms against the smooth leather interior of his padded globes. And again, he states. Wide eyed at the flushness that cascaded down her cheeks to her collar bones. She fully lost herself in a fit of uncontrollable giggles, leaning against the bar again, not even knowing what you’re doing to him.

He wants to look everywhere all at once, eyes darting. Your bright, round lips stained with cranberry juice and the remnants of your lip gloss. The small beads of sweat by your temples and the crown of your hair. Your smooth thighs, sparkling in certain spots from the cold  of your glass. Bucky was truly rendered speechless. Not that he usually speaks much. Not that he was able to get much of a word in with you beforehand. But this time, he feels truly stumped. So, naturally, he did what any former brainwashed assassin turned semi-normal guy would do. With every ounce of charisma and bravado that a man like him could gather, he took one last look at her and drank the last bit of his beer. “Excuse me,” he said with a voice he was unfamiliar with, and turned around to walk out of the bar. And kept walking. All the way home.

--

Sleep is elusive to Bucky, who had spent the previous night drifting in and out of light sleep. He usually takes this as a sign to get an early start of the day, maybe go for a long run or walk outside.

He rises, making his way to the bathroom.. Squeezing out toothpaste, Bucky couldn’t help but reflect upon the event of the previous night. The sound of your gleeful, drunken laugh. How the warmth radiated off of your body. He can just barely recall the ghostly weight of your hand on the back of his. Even through his thick gloves, you may as well have burned him.

As Bucky splashes water on his face, he concludes that maybe a run wasn’t what he needed. The subway station was right outside of the bar on East Houston Street, yet he elected to walk two hours back home to his apartment in Brooklyn instead. He’d hoped that walking over the Manhattan Bridge in the middle of the night would turn out to be somewhat therapeutic, yet he was still unable to shake the memory of you at the bar. 

Letting out a deep breath, he takes a moment to sit on the couch and put his boots on. Standing, he shrugs on his leather jacket and reaches for the gloves in his pocket. Gloves you touched, he recalls, feeling uncharacteristically giddy about it. Heading out the door, he hopes that this early morning workout will help him clear his head.

--

It is far too early to wake up today, especially after having a night out like that. You awake with a raging headache, an unsettled stomach, and an aggressive thought of what the fuck did you do. As you lie there, gazing at your slowly spinning ceiling fan, you start to feel each and every one of the drinks. Groaning, you sit up, clutching your stomach in an attempt to settle yourself and you are quickly reminded of the conversation you had with Bucky. At that, you shoot up far quicker than you should, running to the toilet to rid yourself of the contents of your stomach and regrets from last night. Sigh.

You couldn’t believe that you had said that, feeling waves of embarrassment. You normally wouldn’t push yourself that far with the drinks, much less with the boundaries of a client. Grimacing, you reach up to the counter, feeling for a towel to wipe your face of sweat and residual make-up. Turning on the faucet, you cup water into your hands to drink and splash your face with cold water. Approaching your closet, you preemptively mourn one of the best jobs you’ve ever had. Every fiber of your being begs you to return to bed and wallow in self pity, but you think it’s best that you get to the gym early for a quick workout. Sweat out the hangover, you think bitterly. Your head lightly pounds when you make a sudden movement. Bringing your hand to your forehead, you realize this is going to be one long day.

Entering the compound, you hear the sound of a treadmill running and rhythmic steps in accompaniment. It would be good to see Sam or Joaquín, figuring that one of them decided to work off the alcohol consumed last night. But since you are, evidently, not God’s favorite, running on the treadmill is someone you’d rather avoid right now. And there’s Bucky Barnes, shirtless and sweating as he jogs on the machine. Your eyes follow his dog tags dangling from his neck, bouncing rhythmically against his skin. He heaves gently, hair flopping with each step. 

Even though you stopped in your tracks, he had already felt your presence and began slowing down. Bucky steps off the treadmill, collecting his water and patting his forehead with a small towel he brought. You figure it’s best to just talk and not dance around the topic. He didn’t seem like the type to beat around the bush. You breathe shakily before approaching him.

“Hi, Bucky,” you say, tone laced with nerves.. “Look, about last night—”

“Hey, it’s fine.” he interjects accidentally, cutting you off. He raises a gentle hand of reassurance. “You don’t need to apologize for anything.”

Your shoulders relax a bit, knowing that there was maybe a small chance that he wouldn’t tell Sam or Joaquín about your interaction. “Thank you, it’s just that I rarely go out with clients like that, nor do I drink that heavily.” You shift lightly on your feet, fumbling with your water bottle. “I didn’t mean to be unprofessional or cross any boundaries. I just hope that we could maybe move past this, pretend like it didn’t happen?” Smiling, you look up at the taller man, eyes filled with hope. He himself shifts on his feet, “Oh, I didn’t realize we were just clients to you.” You look down with embarrassment, searching for a response. “Uh, I didn’t mean any offense—”

“I’m just teasin’, sweetheart,” the nickname rolling smoothly off his tongue with a smile. A smile. “Did you really mean what you said, though? About me staring?” Drunk words are sober thoughts, he recalls to himself, having learned the phrase from Torres. You flush, suddenly taking interest in the top of your water bottle rather than the man in front of you. Him speaking with you, much less jokingly is more than foreign territory for you. “I-I mean,” you sputter out, self consciousness taking charge. “I wouldn’t mind being friends with you, of course, I try my best to be friendly with the people I work with.” He takes a step closer. “Now, you and I both know that that’s not the part we are talking about.” Your breath hitches. You take in how you feel crowded by him. He’s not exactly within your personal space. Yet.

“Really, I’m the one that should be apologizing.” Bucky says, loosening up. With a sigh, he starts: “I’m sorry to have kept you at arms length all this time. It’s rather difficult for ‘someone like me,’” he dramatically emphasizes with air quotes, “to ‘nurture friendships.’” So says my therapist, he thinks with an internal eye roll. “What’s wrong with me isn’t your fault. I’m just old and cynical.” He pats the outside of your arm in reassurance. You smile, feeling the spot grow warm under his touch. “For the record, I don’t exactly mind that you called me hot, either,” he casually notes. “It’s certainly better than the other reactions I tend to get.” You didn’t think it was possible to blush harder, feeling the warmth creep down your chest. Fuck, you were hoping he wouldn’t mention that part specifically, but you can roll with it. “Well, I do pride myself on being honest, I guess,” you chuckle nervously trying to play it off as cool.

“Y’know, since I had met you, I had been so confused on what to think of you. In all my life, I had never met anyone that was able to do that to me.” His voice darkens. “Care to clue me in as to why?” You feel stuck again, just how you felt last night when he was staring you down at the bar. You attempt to nervously mutter out a response, which instead leaves your mouth gaping open. He closes in on your space, you can feel his body heat radiating off of him. He glances down at your curved lips, light pink and glistening, then back into your doe eyes. “Please, sweetheart, it drives me crazy when you look at me like that,” he uses the nickname again, making your mind spin and your knees a bit weak. “You have no idea what you do to me, do you?”

His eyes drop to your lips again as you stand there, stupefied. His eyes drift downwards to your lips and you almost feel like crumbling under the sudden pressure. He closes in again, sneaking his hands around your waist to pull you in closer. You’re both suspended in silence for a beat, and you think your heart would stop until he continues. “I don’t mean to make things weird, but maybe I like the way you fluster when I look at you.  I’ve been alive for a long, long time, and you’re the first person I’ve met that’s made me feel this way.”

Before you were aware of his movements, he closed the distance. Your eyes flutter shut as you take in the softness of Bucky’s lips, moving slowly and calculating over your own. His grip tightens on your waist, and you feel how the tips of his fingers press into your skin, making your mind go white. You press your body closer to him, breathing heavily as you press your lips against his. He pulls away when he feels your knees buckle gently, chuckling. “Careful, doll. I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable.” You shake your head in an effort to come to and give him a response. “N-no, It’s fine, you didn’t make me feel uncomfortable.” 

“Good,” he replies, voice darkening. He laughs again, causing you to giggle with him and lean in again.

“You do have a staring problem, though,” Sam chides through the speaker of Red Wing. Thecombat drone floats into your line of sight, hovering menacingly over Bucky’s shoulder. You jump back away from Bucky as if you were burned, feeling embarrassed. Bucky sighs exasperatedly, leaning against the treadmill and shaking his head. “By the way, thanks for finally taking our advice! I have all of that on camera, you know that, right?”

Bucky rolls his eyes with a huff. “Get out of my face, Sam, or I’ll break it.”

[vanteguccir]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤSTURNIOLO TRIPLETS GO TO EUROPE * MATT STURNIOLO

SUMMARY　::　where Y/N, Matt's girlfriend, participates in the 'STURNIOLO TRIPLETS GO TO EUROPE VLOG' video.

FEATURING　Matt Sturniolo x reader　REQUESTED?　yes.

WARNINGS　::　none.

AUTHOR'S NOTE　::　that is my work, I DON'T authorize any form of plagiarism; copy, "inspiration" or translation! | english isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

The first-class cabin was nothing short of a dream. The softly lit hallway stretched ahead of them, lined with elegant partitions that gave each seat its own private cabin. Y/N walked just behind Matt, his hand warm and firm around hers as they walked the narrow aisle. Nick was leading the way, already peeking into his assigned space, while Chris trailed behind them.

When they finally stopped at their row, Y/N’s jaw dropped. She took a tentative step into her cabin, her eyes wide as she looked around at the plush leather seat that reclined into a bed, the medium lit up screen in front of it, and the small touches of luxury like the pillow and blanket tucked neatly on the side.

"This is amazing." She breathed, turning back to the boys with a grin so bright it could’ve lit up the plane.

Chris, peering into his own cabin a few steps away, nodded enthusiastically.

"This is insane. It feels like a movie."

Matt sent the softest gaze at Y/N's way after watching her reaction, his expression gentle and boyish as he nodded, his eyes sparkling. He felt like a proud boyfriend for being able to give that experience for his girlfriend.

"It really is, huh?" He muttered, receiving a soft laugh from Y/N, who took her backpack off her back and handed it to him.

"Here, baby." She said, motioning to the space above them. "Can you put this up there for me? Please."

Matt took the bag, glancing up at the overhead compartment with a slight frown. It wasn’t immediately obvious how to open it, and he hesitated, looking around for guidance. Nick, already settled into his cabin beside Matt’s and recording the entire interaction on his phone, tilted his head toward the compartment.

"Matt, up." Nick said as he pointed.

Matt squinted, his confusion deepening.

"Where?"

Nick let out an exaggerated sigh, still recording.

"In the thing! Hold the handle and lift it, Matt."

Matt gave him a glare before following his directions. He tugged the compartment open and slid Y/N’s bag inside, muttering something about Nick always being a know-it-all, earning a quiet laugh from Y/N.

Finally, with everything in place, Matt stepped into his own cabin. It didn't take long before the hum of the plane filled the air, preparing to take off soon.

Y/N - who had been watching TikTok while it was still up - threw her phone inside her purse and looked around while trying to get comfortable on her seat, but sighing in frustation when she was unsuccessful.

She returned her feet to the ground and curved her upper body so she could see the hallway, biting her lip as she peeked at Matt's cabin. He had already settled in, reclining in the single "bed" with his hoodie draped loosely over his shoulders.

He felt eyes on him and was quick to look up, catching her hesitant gaze, a soft smile growing on his face, already knowing what she wanted, gently patting the small space beside him.

"Come here, sweetheart." He murmured, scooting closer to the window to make room.

Without hesitation, Y/N got up and crossed the small hall that put a distance between them, climbing in his bed, squeezing into the limited space. It was a tight fit, but neither of them minded.

Matt pulled the blanket over them, wrapping it snugly around her before slipping an arm around her waist, holding her close. Her head nestled against his shoulder, her breath warm and comforting against the skin of his neck.

Reaching for his headphones, Matt placed them back around his head, music already filling his ears. He stretched his free arm, fingers hovering over several titles across the small TV screen before settling on one of Y/N’s favorites, a light, cozy movie he knew she adored.

He pressed play and felt her shift slightly, her gaze flickering toward the screen as the opening scene began. She hummed in approval, though her eyelids were already drooping. Within minutes, she succumbed to the exhaustion of their long day, her arm draped around his chest as she snuggled closer. Matt rested his cheek against the top of her head, his hand moving in slow, soothing circles over her arm, his hoodie’s soft fabric gliding against her skin.

For the first time since their frenetic day began, he felt himself relax.

He glanced toward the small window beside him, catching a glimpse of the night sky dotted with stars and the lights of the airport shining in the darkness. He hummed faintly, the moment feeling both surreal and comforting.

Suddenly, Matt caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Turning slightly, he saw Nick approaching their cabin with his phone out, clearly recording. Matt shot him a glare, silently warning him to keep quiet.

Nick stopped in his tracks, raising an eyebrow at his brother’s protectiveness. He panned the phone camera toward them briefly, whispering something to the device while capturing Y/N tucked into Matt’s side and the faint glow of the screen in front of them before backing away with a dramatic roll of his eyes.

Matt let out a breath of relief, tightening his hold on Y/N just a fraction as she shifted in her sleep, her fingers curling into his hoodie.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The elevator doors slid open with a soft chime, revealing the quiet luxury of the hotel hallway. Y/N trailed by Matt's side, while Nick and Chris followed, their rolling suitcases rattling faintly on the polished floor. The flight from Boston had been long, and exhaustion clung to all of them, but the excitement of finally arriving at their destination had them buzzing with energy.

"Alright, room 111." Matt said confidently, stopping in front of the door. He placed the card against the magnetic circle above the handle, and the lock beeped, signaling it was unlocked. With a grin, he grabbed the handle and gave it a sharp pull.

Nothing happened.

He frowned, pulling again, harder this time, but the door didn’t budge.

Nick’s laughter echoed down the hall.

"It’s a push door, genius."

"Is it?" Matt muttered, frowning harder as he pulled once more, just to make sure.

Y/N rolled her eyes, stepping forward.

"Move, Matt." She said with a teasing sigh, nudging Matt gently to the side. She took the card from his hand, placing it again against the magnetic circle, and waited for the soft beep. With one fluid motion, she pushed the door open, revealing their room. Turning back, she shot Matt an amused, bored look. "It's not because we're in a different country that the way to open doors changed, honey."

Matt opened his mouth to reply, but Chris cut in with a laugh, clapping him on the shoulder.

"That’s tough, bro."

Y/N stepped inside first, and her breath hitched as she took in the sight before her. The room was a perfect blend of elegance and comfort, screaming Italian luxury.

To her front was a small white round table paired with two armchairs, a bouquet of vibrant green and white flowers arranged in a glass vase on top. Two letters sat neatly against it, each embossed with the Prada logo and addressed to both her and Matt. The sweet, rich aroma of the flowers filled the air, mingling with a faint hint of fresh linen and polished wood.

Directly to her left was an oval center table in marble, elegantly decorated with fancy chocolates, juicy fruits, and another small floral arrangement, the delicate blooms adding a pop of color to the space. Behind it sat a medium terracotta couch with two tall shelves on each side and a painting that seemed to be worth a lot.

Beyond that was the plush king-sized bed that seemed to be the most comfortable bed in the world, dressed in crisp white linens and framed by soft, warm lighting.

The tall windows occupying the whole largest wall were framed by heavy creamy curtains, slightly parted to reveal a hint of the garden below.

Y/N moved further into the room, running her fingers lightly along the wall as she absorbed every detail.

"This is..." She paused, unable to find the right word.

"Insane? Yeah." Chris finished for her, stepping in behind her with his backpack in his hands. "This is like... next-level fancy."

Nick whistled low, setting his backpack near the round table.

"This room smells expensive." He said, sniffing the air exaggeratedly.

Matt closed the door behind him, his earlier mishap forgotten as he put his backpack on the short hallway floor, meeting Y/N in the way and wrapping an arm around her waist, pulling her close.

"You like it?" He asked, his voice soft in her ear. She turned to look at him, her lips curving into a warm smile.

"I love it. Prada did amazing with this choice."

As the triplets wandered around, taking in the luxurious details and pointing out things to the phone Chris had whipped out, Y/N let herself enter the bathroom, pulling her skincare bag out of her purse to start organizing the main products across the sink.

Meanwhile, Matt was quick to throw himself on the plush king-sized bed, making sure to take out his shoes first - Y/N would kill him if he didn't, closing his eyes and feeling like he could fall asleep right away.

But he was quickly disturbed by a body crashing against his, his legs quickly pressing to his own chest in a way of protecting it while Nick jabbed his sides with fake punches, so soft that felt like he was tickling his skin.

"What the- get off me, Nick!" Matt yelled between fits of uncontrollable laughter, his voice muffled by his position.

Chris stood at the foot of the bed, phone in hand, recording the chaotic scene.

"This is gold." He said, laughing as Matt tried to wriggle free, his giggling echoing throughout the room.

Y/N emerged from the bathroom holding her, now, empty purse. She paused in the doorway, taking in the sight of the boys acting like overgrown kids. Rolling her eyes, she let out a small laugh and shook her head.

She was away for only 10 minutes.

"Boys." She said in a mock-scolding tone, her voice soft and affectionate. "Be careful, please." She walked past Chris, her lips quirking into a smile as she gave his phone camera a pointed glance.

The youngest triplet chuckled.

"Don't worry, they will survive."

Y/N moved to the small couch at the back of the room where Matt put her backpack, leaving the chaos to happen behind her back. She retrieved her phone and then turned to the center table, spotting the tray of fancy chocolates Prada had left for them.

Picking one up, she inhaled deeply, savoring the rich aroma of high-quality chocolate before taking a small bite of it, feeling the unique taste explode against her tongue.

"Good?" Chris called over, turning away from Nick and Matt after they finally stopped.

"Delicious." Y/N replied, her words muffled as she chewed.

She walked towards him while chewing, watching Nick and Matt get off the bed, her steps muffled by the carpet.

"Nick, get the real camera so I don't have to vlog on my phone anymore." Chris asked as soon as Nick got closer, lowering the device slightly.

Nick was quick to go to his backpack, taking the professional camera out of it. It didn't take long for him to turn it on, quickly spinning it around to make sure it was capturing the right angle.

Matt, who looked disheveled with his hoodie slightly wrinkled and his hair a chaotic mess after Nick's earlier wrestling match, stopped by Y/N's side, standing between her and Chris.

"Alright, this is Matt's and Y/N's room. They're in a different room than the one me and Chris are staying-"

"Cause' we’re special." Matt quipped, his tone dripping with mock superiority as he glanced at Chris with a playful smirk.

Chris rolled his eyes, leaning away from Matt slightly.

"Can you fix your hair?" He gestured at Matt’s wild hair, a grin tugging at his lips.

Matt immediately raised a hand to his head, running his fingers through the messy strands.

"My hair’s all messed up ‘cause I had a hood on during the plane, and then Nick decided to fucking kill me as soon as we got here." He shot a pointed look at Nick, who was laughing behind the camera. "I'm not trying to-"

"Okay, let me show you guys all the things in the room." Nick was quick to interrupt them, turning the camera toward the room to defuse the situation. "First of all, gorgeous..."

Meanwhile, Y/N was silent by their side, phone in hand, finishing up a text to both her and the triplets' parents to let them know they’d arrived at the hotel safely. With a small smile growing on her face after listening to the small fight starting between the brothers, she slid her phone into her back pocket.

"... and I'm so fucking hungry now." Chris kept talking, his tone sounding frustrated as Y/N walked closer to them, the sound of Nick's voice showing the details of the room to the camera echoing like background noise to her ears.

Without saying a word, she stood in front of Matt, her hands reaching up to his hair. Matt didn’t miss a beat, continuing his conversation with Chris about where they should eat later.

"We can maybe go somewhere close. I don’t feel like walking too far tonight." Matt said as Y/N gently smoothed down the mess on his head, her fingers combing through his hair with practiced ease.

"There. Now you don’t look like a trainwreck." Y/N smiled, stepping back to admire her work before patting Matt’s shoulder, stepping away to return to the back of the room, planning on getting another one of those wonderful chocolates.

"Thanks, babe." Matt said nonchalantly, flashing her a soft smile before turning back to Chris. "Okay, so what are the options?"

With another piece of chocolate in her hands, she wandered toward one of the tall windows at the far end of the room.

The elegant window door opened with a soft creak, and a gust of crisp winter air swept through the room, sending a slight chill up her spine. Y/N leaned against the frame, her gaze falling to the breathtaking garden below.

The perfectly trimmed hedges, circular topiary trees, and an array of greenery gave it a serene ambiance. Umbrella-covered tables and chairs were scattered around, surrounded by other buildings of the hotel.

"Wow." She murmured to herself, finishing the chocolate as she took in the sight. She turned her head slightly, calling out to the boys behind her. "Hey, guys, come look at this!"

Chris was the first to respond, bouncing across the room like an excited puppy, followed by Nick and Matt.

"What is it?" Nick asked as he reached her side, peering out over her shoulder.

"Look." Y/N said, gesturing to the garden below. "Isn't it beautiful?"

Chris opened the other half of the window, copying Y/N's position and looking below it.

"Can we go down there?" He asked as he squinted at the view.

"We have to figure it out." Nick affirmed, making sure the camera was recording the details.

Matt slid his arm around Y/N's waist, leaning over the window frame to get a better look. His cheek brushed against hers briefly as he turned his head, her hair tickling his skin.

"I'd love to go down there." He chimed in softly, his voice warm.

Y/N glanced at him, her smile widening at the way his eyes lit up as he looked down at all the green. He was living his dream, and she felt purely joy from it.

Her hand met his on her waist, intertwining their fingers against her covered skin, squeezing his hand lovingly.

"Can we go eat now?"

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The restaurant was tucked away down a cobblestone street, just a short walk from the magnificent Duomo. The golden light spilling from the windows reflected off the polished wooden tables and pristine white tablecloths. The tantalizing scent of fresh pasta, basil, and garlic wafted through the air as waiters bustled around, balancing plates piled high with creamy sauces and twirling spaghetti.

At a corner table by the window, the four of them sat, barely holding it together after being awake for more than 24 hours. Nick slouched in his chair, lazily twirling his fork in a bowl of spaghetti, his eyelids drooping every few seconds. Chris leaned against the backrest with his elbows on the table, his mouth occasionally opening in a massive yawn between bites of fettuccine Alfredo. Matt, seated beside Y/N, kept absently running a hand through his messy hair, trying to stay awake while cutting into his lasagna.

Y/N, however, was the first to cave. The warm pasta in front of her - ravioli, creamy and rich - was absolutely delicious, but exhaustion was screaming inside her far more than hunger. She managed to eat only half before resting her fork on her plate with a soft sigh.

Matt glanced over at her, his brows pulling together in concern.

"You’re not eating more?" He asked, his voice soft but tinged with worry. "We barely ate today, honey."

Y/N shook her head wordlessly, too tired to explain that she simply couldn’t eat another bite. Instead, she shifted closer to him, tucking herself above his right biceps and resting her head on his shoulder. Her arms instinctively wrapped around his waist, squeezing him in a sleepy hug as she snuggled into his warmth.

Matt froze for a moment, holding his fork mid-air.

"Careful, sweetheart." He murmured, glancing down at her arms as they brushed the edge of his plate. "Don’t burn yourself on the lasagna." His voice was tender, and his free hand came up to lightly guide her arm away from danger.

"Hmm." Y/N hummed softly in acknowledgment, but her eyes were already closed. She didn’t seem to care much about the logistics of arm placement as she burrowed further into his side, her body practically melting against his.

The faint chuckle that escaped Matt’s lips was filled with affection as he returned to his food, though his movements were slower now, not wanting to disturb her.

"Wow." Nick muttered, his voice barely audible through his drowsiness. He leaned his chin on his palm and smirked at the sight of Y/N clinging to Matt like a koala. "She’s really comfortable, huh?"

"Looks like it." Chris added with a teasing grin, his hand subtly moving to grab his phone from the table. He couldn’t resist recording the scene in front of him; his brother’s flushed face, Y/N’s sleepy frame wrapped around Matt like he was her personal pillow, and Matt’s barely-there attempts to keep a straight face.

"Shut up." Matt muttered, rolling his eyes at his brothers while trying to keep his voice quiet enough. His head lowered slightly to press a soft, awkward kiss to the top of Y/N’s head, the angle slightly off because of her position, but the sweetness in the gesture made up for it.

Chris snickered quietly, his phone still recording as he whispered.

"Two years, and you’re still whipped, dude."

Matt didn’t even bother denying it. Instead, he simply adjusted his arm to hold her a little closer, his hand resting lightly on the right side of her thighs, bringing her legs closer. The movement was protective and tender.

"At least I’m not about to fall asleep in my pasta." He shot back softly, motioning toward Nick’s plate, where his fork was dangerously close to slipping from his fingers as he nodded off.

They continued eating in hushed tones, with Chris occasionally pausing to stifle his laughter at Nick falling asleep while chewing. Meanwhile, Y/N remained blissfully unaware of all of it, her breathing slowing as the sound of the boys’ voices blended into a soothing hum. She was vaguely aware of Matt’s hand moving to eat, but she trusted him to be careful enough not to burn or drop it on her.

When the waiter eventually came by to clear the plates, Matt stopped him, pointing to Y/N’s unfinished plate.

"Can we get this to go?" He asked softly, his voice still gentle as if not to wake her. The waiter nodded, and Matt gave him a thankful smile before returning his attention to her.

Chris finally pocketed his phone and leaned back in his chair, a grin plastered on his face.

"Well." He said quietly, looking between the three of them. "I guess this counts as a successful first dinner in Milan."

Matt hummed in agreement, pressing his cheek against Y/N’s hair, turning his focus back to his brothers.

"Are you going to meet Laura, Nick?" He asked, looking at the oldest triplet, who nodded while pressing his fingers to his eyes. "Okay, we can go wait for you at the Du... Duo... that bright building."

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

The patio in front of the Duomo was vast and bustling, even late at night. The trio stood at the edge of the square, far enough from the chaos of tourists to have a quiet moment while they waited for Nick.

The cold nipped at their faces, the chill of the Milanese night seeping through their jackets. Y/N was wrapped snugly in Matt’s arms, her cheek pressed against his chest as she tried to stay warm - or at least that’s what it looked like. In truth, she was barely awake, her head lolling slightly every now and then. Matt’s oversized jacket was draped over her shoulders on top of her own, cocooning her as she clung to him.

Matt squinted at Chris’s camera, his breath visible in the cold as he began.

"Alright, I’m not going to embarrass myself by trying to say the name of this building again, but me, Chris, and Y/N are enjoying it from afar."

Chris snorted from behind the camera, tilting it slightly to frame the scene better.

"Well, me and you." He corrected, his voice dripping with humor. "Because Y/N is sleeping standing up."

Matt couldn’t hold back his laugh, the sound rumbling in his chest and vibrating against Y/N’s cheek. He looked down at her, brushing a few stray strands of hair away from her face, his fingers gentle.

"She really is." He said with a grin, glancing at the camera again.

"I’m not!" Y/N protested weakly, her voice muffled as she buried herself further into Matt’s chest. She tried to lift her head to prove them wrong but only managed to half-open her eyes, her words slurring slightly. "I’m... I’m seeing the church. It’s beautiful."

Her attempt at defiance only made Matt and Chris laugh harder.

"Yeah, sure." Chris teased, zooming in slightly on her face before panning back to Matt.

"Guys, we just went out to eat." Matt started to the camera, still chuckling. "And we were literally all falling asleep at the table."

Chris spun the device to face himself, nodding vigorously.

"We were all so tired because we’ve been up for over 24 hours. Like, we were just fading away."

"The only thing that kept me alive..." Matt added as Chris turned the camera back to him. "Was the ice cream."

Y/N stirred slightly in his arms, her voice a soft mutter.

"And me."

Both brothers froze for a moment before bursting into laughter.

"Oh my God." Chris shook his head, barely keeping the camera steady. "Did you hear that? She said 'and me'."

Matt grinned down at her, his heart melting at the sight of her sleepy pout.

"You’re not wrong, tho." He said softly, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "You do keep me alive."

Chris groaned jokingly, pretending to gag as he zoomed in on Matt’s face.

"Alright, let’s tone down the mushy stuff for the camera, you two. This is a vlog, you know?"

Matt rolled his eyes but couldn’t stop smiling. He tightened his grip on Y/N, letting her lean on him fully as her body relaxed even more against his. She was barely conscious at this point, her breaths slow and steady, but he didn’t mind. If anything, he was glad she felt comfortable enough to rest in his arms like this.

"Where’s Nick?" Chris asked after a moment, turning the camera to capture the Duomo behind them. "He’s been gone forever."

"He probably fell asleep somewhere." Matt joked, adjusting the jacket on Y/N’s shoulders.

They continued talking nonsense as the cold air swirled around them, Chris pointing out every biker that crossed their path, but Y/N didn’t stir again. She was too far gone, her exhaustion outweighing the chill of the night or the noise of the square. Matt kept her close, shielding her from the worst of the cold as they waited, his heart full despite the fatigue pulling at him.

When Nick finally returned, his steps hurried, and his face red from the chill, he found the trio exactly as he’d expected, glancing at Y/N with a small smile.

"Ready to go?" Nick asked after explanation about the guy who tried to make him buy roses for Laura.

"More than ready." Matt replied, his voice soft. He looked down at Y/N, brushing his fingers across her cheek to rouse her gently. "C’mon, sleepyhead. Time to get back to the hotel."

Y/N mumbled something incoherent, but her arms tightened around Matt’s waist as if to say she wasn’t ready to move. He laughed quietly, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he glanced at his brothers.

"Sweetheart, you have to wake up so we can go to our warm room and sleep in our bed, yeah?"

The camera was already trained on them as Matt talked Y/N out of her sleep softly.

"And this..." Chris said with a dramatic tone. "Is why Matt gets the boyfriend of the year award."

The screen cut off with the sound of their laughter echoing into the night, the cathedral standing tall behind them.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

"... Goodnight Italy, goodnight moon, goodnight Prada-"

Nick, already giggling, interrupted with a laugh.

"Goodnight Prada is crazy." He said, shaking his head and pulling the covers up to his chin.

Chris, ignoring him, continued, his voice dripping with sleep as his words got a bit mixed up.

"Goodnight pasta, airport-"

Matt cut him off, too, straightening from his relaxed stance.

"Alright, I’m out. Say goodnight me, 'cause I’m leaving."

Chris stopped abruptly whatever he was trying to say, throwing an arm out from beneath the duvet as if reaching for him.

"No, no, no!" He protested, his voice filled with fake distress.

Nick rolled his eyes, his laughter subsiding into a fond grin.

"Let him go back to Y/N before she falls asleep in the shower or something." He teased, adjusting his pillow and settling more comfortably.

Chris groaned in defeat, sinking deeper into his blankets.

"Fine. But say goodnight to her." He said, pouting as Matt smirked and nodded.

"Will do." Matt replied, switching off the camera and leaving it at the marble oval table before slipping out the door. The hallway was quiet as Matt made his way to his room, his steps soft against the carpeted floor.

He pushed the door open softly, careful not to let it creak, stepping inside before closing it behind him, and was immediately greeted by the faint scent of Y/N’s lotion lingering in the air.

After walking through the short hallway that separated the entrance from the room itself, he paused in his tracks, the sight before him pulling a soft laugh from his lips.

Y/N was already tucked in bed, the duvet pulled up to her chin, leaving only her head peeking out. Her hair, still slightly damp from her shower, clung to her pillow in messy strands. Her eyes were closed, but her face twitched slightly, her brows furrowing at the sound of his laugh, as if she was caught between sleep and awake.

He shook his head fondly, leaning against the wall.

"You’re trying so hard, aren’t you?" He murmured quietly, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

The sound of his voice seemed to stir her. Her eyelids fluttered open, revealing her sleepy gaze, eyes slightly red from the tiredness. It took her a moment to focus on him, and when she did, a small, drowsy smile curved her lips.

"Hi, baby." She murmured, her voice thick with sleep. "You’re back."

Matt chuckled softly, stepping closer to the bed.

"Yeah." He said, crouching by her side. His hand reached out to brush a strand of hair from her face. "Chris said goodnight."

"Goodnight, Chris." She mumbled, her words slurred and barely audible, and her eyes began to drift closed again.

Matt’s chest ached with affection at the sight of her so vulnerable.

"Go to sleep, sweetheart." He whispered, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to her temple. "I’ll be there in a second. Just need to change."

She hummed in response, barely acknowledging his words as she nestled further into the duvet, her breathing evening out.

Matt moved quickly, changing into a pair of sweatpants and a soft shirt, all the while keeping his movements quiet. When he finally slid into bed beside her, the warmth of her body immediately drew him in. She stirred slightly, instinctively shifting closer to him, her head finding its place on his chest as her arm draped over his waist.

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her snugly against him and adjusting the duvet to create a cocoon of warmth around them both. His lips found the top of her head, and he kissed it softly, lingering for a moment.

"I love you." He whispered against her hair, his voice barely audible in the stillness of the room, exhaling the comforting scent of fresh shampoo.

Y/N, her eyes still closed, raised her head slightly, her face tilting toward his. Her lips were pursed in a sleepy pout, and Matt couldn’t help but chuckle at how endearing she looked. He leaned down, meeting her lips in a lazy, intimate kiss. It was slow and messy, the sleep messing with their minds, but it was full of love.

Her head dropped back to his chest after pulling away, sighing softly.

"Thank you." She whispered.

Matt’s brow furrowed slightly as he looked down at her.

"For what?"

Her voice was soft and muffled against his shirt.

"For this. I’m only here because of you."

He shook his head, pressing another kiss to her hair.

"Even if Prada hadn’t invited us, I’d take you on a trip around all of Europe if you wanted to. Just say the word, baby."

Her lips curved into a small smile against his chest.

"I love you." She whispered.

"I love you more." He replied, his voice filled with certainty.

She hummed softly in response, her body relaxing completely against his as sleep overtook her. Matt stayed awake a little longer, his hand gently stroking her back as he watched her sleep, feeling like the luckiest man alive.

© vanteguccir

[amoressb]

───── KISS ME MORE 西村 力 N. RK

ꪆৎ ⋆˚࿔ trying to finish his makeup but he just can’t stop kissing you ｡｡ idol bf!riki x makeup artist!reader. fluff & wc. 1.4k ; lots of kissing, skinship, petnames｡｡

──── ARCHiVE

the backstage dressing room of the sold out arena was alive with activity. assistants rushed in and out, carrying outfits and adjusting mics, while the members of enhypen filled into the room, their energy a mix of nerves and excitement. riki, the main dancer, was the last to enter, his stage outfit already clinging perfectly to his frame. his hair was freshly styled and his usual confident grin was firmly in place.

you stood near the vanity, arranging your makeup tools neatly. you glanced up when the door opened and your heart did it’s usual flutter when your eyes landed on riki. despite working and being together for years now, he still had that effect on you.

“hey pretty,” riki greeted, making a beeline for you as the other members settled into their chairs. without a care for the busy room, he leaned down and pressed a quick kiss to your lips. “riki!” you exclaimed, glancing around to make sure no one had seen, your cheeks flushing pink. “we’re at work!”

“and?” he teased, his voice soft and low so only you could hear. “it’s not like they don’t already know.” you tried to keep your expression neutral, but his adoring gaze was making it impossible. he looked at you like you were the only person in the world, his dark eyes warm and full of affection.

“go sit down,” you finally said, trying to suppress a smile as you motioned to his chair. “you’ve got a show to get ready for.”

“yes ma’am,” riki said with a mock salute before plopping into his chair. the other members exchanged knowing smirks but didn’t say anything, accustomed to their maknaes antics when it came to you.

you approached him with your makeup kit, your expression shifting to one of focus. you grabbed a primer and started dabbing it onto his skin. riki leaned back obediently, watching you the entire time. his eyes followed every move you made—how you tilted your head slightly while working on his foundation, the way your lips pressed together as you concentrated.

“stop staring,” you said without looking up, your voice tinged with amusement. “i can’t help it,” riki replied, a grin tugging at his lips. “you’re too pretty when you’re in your element.”

“flattery won’t get you out of wearing eyeliner,” you quipped, picking up the next product.

he chuckled, staying quiet for a moment as you traced sharp, precise lines around his eyes. but when you leaned in to work on his lips, he couldn’t sit still anymore.

“riki, baby,” you said, holding his chin to keep him steady, “if you don’t stop moving, you’re going to look like a mess out there and i’ll let the fans blame you.”

riki grinned, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “would it really be so bad? they might think the smudges are part of my charm.”

“charm doesn’t cover uneven eyeliner or faded lip tint,” you muttered, dipping the brush back into the product. you leaned closer, focusing on his lips. “well,” he said, voice dropping a bit deeper than before, “if it’s my lips you’re worried about, maybe you should test them.”

“riki,” you warned, but your cheeks flushed at his teasing tone. in response, he leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to your cheek, leaving a faint mark of coral lip tint behind. “there, a little something just for you.”

you froze, your brush midair, and fixed him with an exasperated glare. “riki! you’ve ruined it again, that’s the third time!” he laughed, utterly unrepentant. “what can i say? your face is more fun to decorate than mine.”

“you’re impossible,” you muttered, grabbing a makeup wipe to start over. “at this rate, you’re going on stage with bare lips.”

“then the fans will get the real me,” he said with a playful shrug.

“no, the fans will get a makeup artist who quits her job halfway through the tour because of you,” you shot back, though your lips twitched in amusement.

as you leaned in again, riki stared at you with unabashed affection, making no effort to hide how enamored he was. the way your brows furrowed in concentration, the way you bit your lip when you worked—it all made his heart race.

“riki, stop looking at me like that,” you murmured without glancing up.

“like what?”

“like you’re about to—”

before you could finish, he closed the distance between you two and kissed you square on the lips. it was soft but lingering, enough to make you forget for a moment that you guys were backstage, mere minutes before showtime. when he pulled back, your carefully applied lip tint was smeared, and his own lips were a mess.

“—do that,” you finished, blinking at him.

he grinned, completely unbothered. “you make it hard to resist, baby.” you sighed dramatically, though your cheeks were pink. “i give up. you’re going on stage like this.”

“no, no, no,” he said quickly, laughing. “i’ll behave this time, i swear.” you arched an eyebrow. “you said that five kisses ago.”

“this time, i mean it,” he said, leaning back in his chair and clasping his hands in mock innocence. “scout’s honor.”

the other members started laughing. jake smirked at riki from his chair. “you’ve got it bad, riki.”

“jealous?” riki shot back, unbothered by the teasing.

you sighed, rolling your eyes but smiling as you reached for the lip tint again, applying it with quick, practiced strokes. riki stayed still this time, though you could feel his eyes on you the entire time. “there,” you said at last, stepping back to inspect your work. “you’re ready.”

“perfect,” he said, glancing at himself in the mirror. then he turned to you with a cheeky smile. “almost as perfect as you.”

“flattery won’t save you if you mess it up again,” you warned, though you couldn’t help but smile. a knock on the door interrupted them and the groups manager poked their head in. “you guys are on in five.”

“got it!” riki called, standing up. he looked down at you, his expression softening. “wish me luck?”

“break a leg,” you said with a small smile, your voice gentler now. “and please don’t kiss anyone on stage.” he chuckled. “you know my lips are only yours.”

with a wink, he was gone, leaving you to clean up your station. you could hear the deafening roar of the crowd as the show began and a small smile tugged at your lips. as exasperating as he could be, there was no denying how proud you were of him.

hours later, the concert was in full swing. you watched from backstage, your heart swelling with pride as riki belted out the final dance moves of their song. his moves effortless and smooth, his stage presence captivating as always. by now, he and the other members took their final bows and headed offstage.

riki burst into the dressing room, still glowing with the adrenaline of the performance. his hair was damp with sweat, his shirt clinging to him, and he looked every bit of the star he was.

“y/nnn,” he called, his voice still slightly hoarse. he scanned the room until his eyes found you and his face lit up. without hesitation, he strode over, pulling you into a tight hug.

“riki, you’re all sweaty!” you protested, laughing as you tried to push him away.

“and i missed you,” he said smiling, grabbing your chin, turning you to face him, and leaning in without hesitation to kiss you before you could respond. his lips still tinted faintly with the remnants of his stage makeup. when he pulled back, your own lips bore the faint coral hue.

“you just kissed off the last bit of your lip tint,” you said, your voice soft but teasing. “good,” riki said, his grin boyish and unrepentant. “it belongs on you anyway.”

their moment was interrupted by the other members filing into the room. jake let out a low whistle, grinning as he pointed at the couple. “you really can’t keep your lips off her, huh?”

“you’re gonna wear her out before the next show,” joked jungwon. riki rolled his eyes but kept his arm firmly around your waist. “jealousy isn’t a good look on you guys.”

“sure, sure,” jake said with a laugh. “just try not to kiss off her patience, too.” you shook your head smiling, “too late for that.”

riki leans down to kiss your lips again and looked into your eyes, ignoring the teasing entirely. “lucky for me, she loves me anyway.”

“unfortunately for me,” you muttered, though the warmth in your smile gave you away.

⋆｡°✩ @miukidoll @flufflights

[flwrstqr]

୨୧ : ENHYPEN WHEN THEY LET YOU TIE A BOW AROUND THEM ╰——𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗆𝖺𝗀𝗂𝖼, 𝗂 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗒𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗂 𝗐𝖺𝗇𝗍 '𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗂 𝖺𝗍𝗍𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗍 𝗂𝗍

𝑜𝑓 · 𝖲𝖧𝖮���𝓉𝖨𝖬𝖤 ⦂ bf!enhypen x f!r 17OOwc. ── est relationship, skinship, lots of kissing ｡｡ ⠀fluff, one shot ✦ 𝓒ATALOGUE ♡ ◞

 DANi : thank you @tzyunaes for the fic idea (> <)

𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚 "what’s this for, baby?" heeseung grins, watching you carefully tie a bow around his wrist, his other hand resting lightly on your waist. “you’re so cute when you concentrate like this,” he teases, earning an amused roll of your eyes. “it’s a trend,” you explain, tugging the ribbon snug and admiring your work. he tilts his head, eyes softening as he studies your face. “so… do i get a kiss now? or is this just a no-kiss accessory?” he pouts dramatically, already leaning closer. you laugh, cupping his face. “you’re so annoying,” you mumble before pressing your lips to his. he hums against your mouth, his hand slipping up to cradle the back of your neck. “i think i need another one,” he murmurs when you pull away, “for, you know, emotional support.” you kiss him again, giggling as he grins like he’s won the lottery.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚 you’re really making me wear this, huh?" jay chuckles, holding his hand out obediently as you tie the pink bow around his wrist. "it’s cute," you insist, pouting slightly when he teases you. his lips twitch into a soft smile. "if it makes my princess happy, i’ll wear ten of these," he says. you finish tying the ribbon, looking up at him with that bright smile he loves and adores. “there,” you say proudly, and he immediately melts. “do i get a reward now?” he asks, pulling you closer by the waist. “like what?” you ask, playing coy, but he’s already leaning in. “a kiss, obviously.” his lips brush against yours, and when you pull back, his smile is smug. “looks good, right?” he gestures to the bow. “maybe i should wear one all the time if it gets me more kisses from you.”

𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡 "baby, hold still!" you whine, struggling to tie the pink bow around jake’s bicep as he squirms, his lips pouted. "why do i need a bow, huh? am i your present?" he teases, flexing his arm playfully, and you roll your eyes, smacking his chest lightly. "yes, now stop moving or i’m returning you to the store," you grumble, biting back a laugh. he leans closer, his lips brushing your ear. "you wouldn’t dare, angel. i’m your favorite," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your jawline "jake!" you huff, finally securing the bow, and he grins, pulling you into his lap in one smooth motion. "does it suit me?" he asks, before peppering kisses along your neck. "you look ridiculous," you giggle, but he smirks, his lips ghosting over yours. "ridiculously handsome, right?" god, he’s impossible.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗛𝗢𝗢𝗡 "you’re seriously tying a pink bow on my arm?" sunghoon asks, raising an eyebrow as he watches you struggle to keep his arm steady. "yes, now stop flexing, hoon!" you whine, tugging his arm back into place. he smirks, leaning back lazily. "feels like an excuse to touch me, babe," he teases. you glare at him, cheeks heating. "you’re so full of yourself, i swear," you grumble, but he only chuckles, his free hand sneaking around your waist to pull you closer. "can’t blame you, though. i am irresistible," he says, and you roll your eyes, finishing the bow with a frustrated huff. "there, done. now you look cute," you say, crossing your arms. sunghoon kisses your temple. "cute, huh? guess you do like having excuses to be near me," he murmurs.

𝗞𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗢𝗢 "sunoo," you giggle, holding up the pink satin ribbon, "let me tie this on you, pleaseee?" he grins, already extending his wrist, knowing exactly where this is going. "you and your trends," he teases. you carefully wrap the ribbon around his wrist, tying it into a perfect bow, and he watches you with the softest smile, eyes sparkling. "done!" you chirp, but before he can pull away, you��re already reaching for your lipstick. "what now?" he asks, amused but not stopping you. "just one more thing," you hum, pressing a soft kiss to the spot next to the bow, leaving a faint pink stain behind. "there, perfect." sunoo laughs, "perfect? that’s me when i’m with you, angel."

𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡 "hold still, won," you mumble, focused as you carefully tie the pink satin bow around his wrist. jungwon doesn’t say a word, his eyes fixed on you the entire time, like you’re the only thing in the world worth looking at. you glance up at him. "stop staring," you pout, tightening the bow. still, he doesn’t reply, just smiling faintly. when you finish, you pull back to admire your work. "there, all done!" you beam, but before you can say anything else, he leans in closer. "did you know you’re really pretty?" he whispers, ignoring the bow entirely. you barely manage to giggle a soft, "stop it," before he cups your face, pressing sweet kisses to your lips, your cheeks, and your forehead. "i mean it, baby," he murmurs, "so, so pretty."

𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗜 "you’re so dramatic," you huff, trying to wrap the pink ribbon around riki’s bicep while he flexes just to make it harder for you. "stop that!" you whine, and he laughs. "can’t help it, angel, gotta show off for you," he grins, winking. you roll your eyes but can’t hide the smile tugging at your lips. "hold still, or i’m breaking up with you," you threaten, but he knows you won’t. "okay, okay," he relents, letting you tie the bow, though he’s still smirking. when you’re done, you lean back, admiring your work. "see? looks cute," you declare. "cute?" he repeats, raising an eyebrow. "baby, i make it look good." you swat his arm, laughing, but before you can retort, he leans in, cupping your face and pressing kisses to your lips. "you’re the cute one," he murmurs against your lips, "but keep going. i like being your accessory."

[himasgod]

Can I request Sebek with an S/O who is very soft spoken? Like, she has trouble being heard and even her "loud" voice would be considered quiet by most people?

Sebek x Reader

Where your voice is too soft

How would Sebek act if his partner's voice was very soft, and it was very difficult to be heard?

Sorry for making this so extense, everyone with two eyes can see that Sebek is my fav and I wanted to give him the one shot he deserved, I love him very much, enjoy it <3

Ever since he'd met you, Sebek had had difficulty listening to you.

Not because he didn't want to, but because your voice was so low that the surrounding noise often drowned out your words. At first, this frustrated him. How could anyone communicate if they spoke so slowly and quietly! It wasn't that he doubted your abilities, but in his opinion, words should be spoken firmly to demonstrate presence.

However, over time, his view began to change. He discovered that your soft voice held a special charm.

Every word you spoke, even if soft, was full of meaning. You didn't say much, but when you did, your words were sincere and profound. He learned to read you in other ways: in the way you tilted your head when you were thoughtful, in the way your eyes sparkled when you were excited, or in the way your lips trembled when you wanted to say something but were afraid to interrupt.

Sebek, who used to interrupt and raise his voice without realizing it, began to pause. He began to wait, to listen to you attentively. When you were together, he lowered his voice a little, though he didn't realize it. He leaned slightly toward you to catch every word you said, and if someone interrupted, his withering glare was enough to silence them and let you speak.

For example, one day, the classroom buzzed with the sound of conversations, laughter, and the occasional argument about the week's homework.

In the midst of it all, you tried to ask the person sitting next to you a question, but as always, your voice was lost in the noise.

"Could you repeat that?" Deuce said, frowning as he tried to hear you.

You took a breath and tried to raise your voice, but before you could…

"MY BELOVED WAS SPEAKING! SHOW SOME RESPECT!"

The boom of Sebek's voice reverberated off the walls like thunder, causing everyone to instantly fall silent. Even Crewel paused for a moment to see what was happening.

Your cheeks burned as you felt the entire class's attention on you.

"Sebek…" you whispered, wishing the ground would swallow you up.

"Speak up! Now everyone will listen to you properly!" he exclaimed proudly, crossing his arms.

Some students rolled their eyes and returned to their conversations, but others still looked at you curiously, as if waiting for you to say something worthy of such a huge interruption.

"It wasn't that important…" you muttered, lowering your gaze.

Sebek snorted.

"Everything you say is important! If others don't listen to you, then they're the ones at fault!"

You didn't know how to respond to that, but the class continued without further interruptions. Still, for the rest of the day, whenever you tried to speak and someone wasn't listening, Sebek would jump in without hesitation.

In the cafeteria. In the hallway. Even in the library (where he was almost thrown out for his scandal).

Finally, as you walked back to Ramshackle together, you decided to speak.

"Sebek…" you whispered, gently tugging at his sleeve.

He stopped in his tracks and looked at you with full attention, as if whatever you were about to say was a direct order from Lord Malleus himself.

"You don't have to shout every time I want to say something…" you said, feeling a little embarrassed.

"Of course I do!" he retorted, determination shining in his eyes. "If the others won't listen to you, then it's my duty to make sure they do!"

You sighed.

"But… I don't like everyone looking at me when you do it."

Sebek opened his mouth to argue, but closed it immediately.

He looked at you with a frown, as if processing your words. For a moment, you couldn't tell if he was outraged or confused.

"So…" he began, less confidently than usual. "Would you rather I did nothing?"

You shook your head.

"It's not that. Just… you listening to me is enough."

The silence stretched between you.

Sebek looked at you seriously, his green eyes shining with something different than their usual overflowing passion. Then, as if understanding something important, he nodded solemnly.

"If that's what you wish… then I will do it."

And he did.

From that day on, whenever you were in a group and your voice was lost among the others, Sebek didn't interrupt with a deafening shout.

Instead, he leaned his head toward you, making sure his ears caught every word.

When he noticed you wanted to speak, he gave you the space to do so, waiting patiently for you to express yourself at your own pace.

Even in moments of silence, if he noticed you wanted to say something but didn't dare, he'd simply whisper, "I'm listening."

And with that, you knew you didn't need to shout. That for him, your voice was enough.

One day, as you walked through the school hallways together, you stopped to say something, but at that moment, a group of students walked by, talking loudly, completely drowning out your words. Despite this, Sebek knew you'd tried to speak.

"Wait a minute!" he exclaimed. He turned to you with his characteristic energy. "You said something, I know! Say it again!"

You smiled a little, a faint blush rising to your cheeks.

"Today… today the weather is beautiful."

Sebek blinked, processing the simplicity of the sentence. Then, with his serious but bright-eyed expression, he nodded firmly.

"That's right! The weather is nice, but you have to be prepared for any sudden changes!"

The way Sebek took your every word seriously, no matter how simple, made you feel seen. Heard.

And that made you the happiest girlfriend in the world.

[rafesangelita]

♡ when bitchy!kook!reader’s best friend begs her to go buy something off of rafe for her, she’s forced to face their complicated past once again.. but this time on her knees..

warnings: dealer!rafe, rafe is kinda icky in this ngl, groping, teasing, name-calling, reader makes rafe go absolutely dumb, flirty banter (?), rough kissing, lots of dirty talk, slight jealousy, slight praise, oral (m. receiving), face fucking, hair pulling, orgasm denial

wc: 1.8k

“just go get it!” chanel whined, tugging on your arm as you rolled your eyes at her. she’s been begging you to score from rafe for about fifteen minutes now, a hundred dollar bill tucked between her fingers as she shook you by your shoulders. “no, chanel! i’m not really feeling a bump right now, alright?” you looked away from her in hopes she’d give it up already. you knew she was still mortified from the last time she tried to buy off of rafe, her form of payment being a complete miss when rafe gave her a disgusted look as she not-so-subtly got on her knees for him.

after she had to mask her embarrassment and play it off as if she just ‘dropped’ something and had to pick it up, she vowed to never face rafe cameron again. “i’m literally offering free blow, come on!” she exclaimed. you looked around the room, noticing a few stares in your direction, a sigh leaving your lips as you ripped the money from her hands. “fine! oh my god, will you stop that already!?” you whispered, reapplying your lipgloss before making your way over to rafe. he was surrounded by all of his friends, their boisterous laughter coming to a stop as you approached their table.

sliding the bill over to him, you felt the burn of their surrounding gazes on your ass. “i’ll have whatever that can get me.” you slowly stood back up, your dress riding up your thighs as rafe so shamelessly ogled your cleavage. “not even a ‘hi, how are you?’ i thought we were closer than that, babe.” rafe chuckled, shooing his friends off with the wave of his hand. without another word, they left, leaving you and rafe all alone as he patted the spot next to him. “i’m not sitting down. i just need my shit and i’ll be gone.” rafe’s smile dropped at your words, a scoff leaving his lips as he rounded the table.

“this is what you want, huh?” he waved a small baggie in your face, “take a walk with me and it’s all yours.. no money necessary.” he slipped the bill in your bra, his fingers skimming the flesh there as he threw an arm around your shoulders. oh, chanel owed you big time for this. “we should be together baby, we’d be the hottest couple in this bitch.” you hummed in disagreement, flashing him a glare. “i’m already the hottest one here, i don’t need you to be the ‘hottest’ anything.” rafe smiled down at you. your bitchy attitude only made him grow hard for you in his pants.

“you’re a bitch, you know that?” he started walking you two upstairs, his arm dropping from your shoulders before grabbing a handful of your ass through your dress. “aww, you think so?” you cooed, feigning innocence as you swatted his hand away. rafe settled for keeping a palm on the small of your back, your eybrows knitting in confusion when you two walked into a bathroom. “what are we doing in here?” you watched as rafe clicked the lock shut, his biceps bulging through his t-shirt as he crossed his arms over his chest. you couldn’t help but stare at his muscles.

rafe is a pretty attractive guy, there was no doubt about that. sharp facial features, blue eyes that made it easy to get lost in, and his muscles.. god, those chiseled muscles were a weakness of yours. “you can stop the act, you know?” he stepped closer, his face mere centimeters from yours. you put some space between you two, taking the hundred dollar bill out of your bra and offering it to him once again. “i’m just here to get something for my friend. you can take it or leave it, i don’t care which one you choose.” you leaned against the sink, the dim lighting making your lipgloss sparkle.

rafe nodded, tonguing his cheek as he caged you between his arms. he just had to smell so good. “your friend?” he repeated, “you’re not talking about chanel, right? the one who wanted to give me head instead of actually paying me?” you laughed, attempting to push him away but he didn’t budge. “oh, that just strokes your ego, doesn’t it?” you glanced at him through your lashes, feeling your resolve crumble the longer he stayed this close to you. “nah, not like you do.” he leaned down, pressing a wet kiss to the underside of your jaw. rafe was starting to get you where he wanted you.

“come on, you tellin’ me that you don’t think about that night we snuck away from that charity gala and had marathon sex on the druthers?” and there it was.. the one and only thing rafe cameron had dirt on you for. you sucked in a breath, a shiver running down your spine when he nipped the sensitive skin of your neck. “that was months ago, rafe.” you sighed, your hands trailing up his arms. “i still think about it,” he started, “still’ got your panties from that night in my room..” you moaned at the revelation, your fingers threading through his hair as he lifted you onto the sink to step between your thighs.

“why did you bring me here?” you pulled away, eyes glazed over as he rested a hand on your thigh. “because i still wanna supply you, just at the cost of something else..” you rolled your eyes, knowing exactly what that ‘something’ was. “goodbye, rafe.” you were about to move around him when he spoke. “that’s fine, really. i bet that girlfriend of yours downstairs wouldn’t mind getting on her knees for me one more time.. y’know, since you can’t do it.” you froze, your jaw clenching as you turned around and glared at him. “‘i ‘can’t’ do it’. is that what you said?” you arched a brow.

“yeah. you can’t do it right, and that’s okay. desperate times call for desperate measures, and no one sucks cock better than a desperate cokewhore looking for her next bump. ‘matter of fact.. send her up to me when you get back down there.” he winked. you were utterly speechless. who the fuck did he think he was talking to? you were hands down the best suck and fuck of his life, and you both knew it. “that’s funny..” you pouted, “cause if i remember correctly, you came three times in the span of ten minutes,” your laugh echoed off of the walls of the bathroom, “it felt so good, you were crying. did you forget that?” you whispered.

rafe cursed under his breath, lifting his head to meet your heated gaze. he could never forget that. he literally had to pull you off of him, pathetic whimpers leaving his lips as he laid there dazed and overstimulated. “but you’re right, i’m sure chanel would love to come up here.” you kissed his cheek, not even making it to the door before he pulled you back by your hair, his lips clashing with your own. the kiss was anything but soft. teeth, tongue, you name it, you two kissed like you’ve been waiting to do it for months. “you fuckin’ bitch, you were just waiting to throw that in my face, huh?”

you giggled, pushing him back against the counter before kneeling down and unbuckling his belt. rafe couldn’t believe that this was happening again. slipping his shirt off so it wasn’t in the way, he shuddered when he felt your fingers loop through the waistband of his briefs, his pants falling down in one swoop. “ah, fuck!” he hissed, the tip of his cock already leaking precum for you as you wrapped a hand around his base. “wanna keep saying that i don’t know what i’m doing?” you looked up at him with those eyes of yours, making him melt into a puddle of nothing as you stroked him languidly.

“no— no! you make me feel so good, baby..” rafe’s lips parted when you gave him a lick, swirling your tongue around the glistening head before taking him in your mouth, your throat closing around him tightly. rafe stood there frozen, his heart beating in his ears when you swallowed around his length. taking that as permission to gather your hair in a makeshift ponytail, rafe pulled you off of his cock, groaning at the sight of a string of spit connecting you two before slamming back into your throat, both of you moaning at the sensation. he looked so pretty when he was fighting the urge not to cum too soon.

eyebrows pinched together in pure bliss, rafe took his bottom lip between his teeth, his head rolling back as the sounds of his cock hitting the back of your throat reverberated off the walls of the bathroom. your mascara was starting to smudge, but with the black pencil in your waterline it was hard to tell you were messing up your makeup in the first place. “oh my god, baby, this is— shit, i can’t. i can’t fuckin’—” rafe was babbling nonsense, his knees buckling when he felt you take his balls in your other hand. “wait, wait, i’m so close. y/n—”

you ignored his pleas for you to slow down, only pulling away from him when he was right on the edge of painting your tongue with his cum. the look on his face was priceless when you started fixing your hair in the mirror, tearing off a piece of tissue to dab at the stray tears that managed to roll down your cheeks. “w-what are you doing? what’s wrong?” rafe stammered, his cock standing up against his stomach as you didn’t spare him another glance.

“i’m going home!” you chirped, the man next to you shaking his head at your words. “no, no, no, what are you talking about?” he grabbed your arm, pulling you closer to where he stood, “come on, you know i can make you scream. let me fuck you..” he whispered the last part in your ear, making a wicked grin form on your lips. “fuck me? gross, no way.” pecking the tip of his nose, you pushed him away before opening the door. “wait, what about your blow?” he shouted after you as if to say ‘gotcha!’. turning around at the top of the stairs, you took the little baggie out of your bra and waved it at him.

“you should be careful, ray. ‘get too horny and can’t even feel when a cokewhore slips her fingers in your pocket. you made it too easy for me, baby!” rafe was in disbelief when he watched you blow a kiss at him, your hips swaying as you walked down the stairs. you were so clever he couldn’t even be mad. pathetically shouting a ‘so you’ll call me?!’ you ignored him, scoffing. “as if, loser.”

[mocchiixxx]

🐶 Lost & Found

Genre: Fluff, Comedy, Romance

Kim Mingyu x Reader

Summary: Mingyu loses his tiny girlfriend in the crowded streets of Seoul and dramatically “rescues” her by lifting her into the air like a lost child. Embarrassed and annoyed, she scolds him, threatening to buy a baby leash. Playful banter and heartwarming chaos ensue.

Mingyu liked to think of himself as a responsible boyfriend. He held your hand in crowded places, kept a protective arm around your shoulders, and made sure you always walked on the inner side of the sidewalk.

But today? Today, he failed.

One second, you were by his side, happily munching on tteokbokki. The next? Gone.

Mingyu froze in the middle of the bustling street, his long legs rooted to the ground. His heart nearly jumped out of his chest. “Babe?” His head swiveled left and right, scanning the sea of people. “Babe?!”

No answer.

A sinking realization hit him. He lost you. In the wild. Of Seoul.

“Oh my god,” he whispered to himself. “I lost my tiny girlfriend.”

His brain went into overdrive. Was this how parents felt when they lost their kid in the mall? Was he about to get a "missing person" announcement over the loudspeakers? Would he have to make Have You Seen This Girlfriend? posters?

Then, finally— he spotted you.

There you were, right in the middle of the crowd, struggling for dear life.

Your tiny frame was completely swallowed by taller people, your arms awkwardly pinned to your sides. You tried tiptoeing to look around, but it was zero help, like a bunny stuck in a herd of elephants.

Mingyu slapped a hand over his mouth to stop himself from laughing.

But first— rescue mission.

Summoning his inner action hero, he swam through the crowd. “Excuse me! Sorry! Move—oh, sir, I love your jacket—BUT PLEASE MOVE—” He dodged elbows, weaved through confused pedestrians, and parkoured around a baby stroller.

And then— he reached you.

Without hesitation— he slid his hands under your arms and LIFTED YOU HIGH INTO THE AIR.

Like a dad picking up his excited toddler.

“FOUND YOU!” he announced with the biggest grin.

The people around you stared. A couple giggled. A kid pointed at you like you were an exhibit at the zoo.

Meanwhile, you dangled mid-air, horrified.

“GYUUU, PUT ME DOWN—”

“Not until you admit you got lost,” he teased, holding you effortlessly.

You kicked your legs. “I didn’t get lost— you lost me!”

He gasped dramatically. “No way! You’re saying I, Kim Mingyu, am the irresponsible one?”

“Yes! Now put me down before I—”

“Before you what?” he smirked. “Before you struggle helplessly in the big scary world?”

You glared at him. “Before I ban you from cuddling for a week.”

Mingyu froze. Oh no.

Slowly, gently, he placed you back on the ground.

The moment your feet touched the pavement, you smacked his chest. “Next time, hold my hand tighter.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said solemnly, grabbing your hand like it was the most precious thing in the world.

“…And if you lose me again,” you added, “I’m buying one of those baby leashes.”

Mingyu grinned. “Ooo, can it be pink with sparkles?”

You sighed. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t.” He squeezed your hand.

You rolled your eyes but didn’t let go. And for the rest of the night, Mingyu made sure your tiny self never left his sight again.

[misswynters]

Steel and sunshine

sevika x ditz! reader / short drabble

no warnings just you being annoying and sevika putting up with you

requested by @gravegoer <3

Zauns sprawling streets were filled with the hum of industry, the hiss of steam, and the faint green glow of shimmer pouring from narrow alleyways. The air hung heavy with a metallic tang, and the rattle of machinery from the Undercity’s workshops created a chaotic symphony. It was chaotic, grimy, and dangerous. A place that seemed to churn out desperation as naturally as it did smog. In the heart of it all, Sevika sat at her usual corner of The Last Drop, nursing a glass of something strong enough to peel paint.

Her steel arm rested on the table, catching the flicker of neon lights overhead. She was a picture of quiet intensity: sharp eyes scanning the bar, her jaw set in irritation at the chaos around her. She could handle a fight breaking out or someone trying to swindle her. What she couldn’t handle, though, was the sound of your voice cutting through the din like sunshine piercing a storm cloud. “Sevika!”

She groaned quietly, closing her eyes for a moment as she prepared herself for the whirlwind that was you. When she opened them, there you were, skipping toward her with all the oblivious cheer of someone who didn’t belong in a place like this. “What now?” she muttered, her tone already laced with exasperation.

You plopped down into the chair across from her, beaming as if you hadn’t just walked through Zaun’s most dangerous streets without a care in the world. “You’ll never guess what I found today!”

“Let me guess,” Sevika said, her voice flat. “Something useless?”

You gasped, clutching your chest like she’d just shot you. “How dare you? It’s not useless!” You rummaged through your bag, your fingers brushing past who-knows-what before triumphantly pulling out a small, rusted music box. Its paint was chipped, and the mechanism looked like it hadn’t worked in years. “Look! Isn’t it cute?”

Sevika raised an eyebrow, her patience already teetering on the edge. “You’re risking your life out there for this?”

“Of course!” you said, completely unfazed. “I thought you’d like it.”

“I don’t like junk,” she said flatly, though her gaze lingered on the object longer than she’d admit.

You leaned forward, your eyes sparkling with mischief. “You’re lying. I can tell you secretly think it’s cool.”

Sevika groaned, her metal fingers tapping against the table in frustration. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Keep me around forever?” you said with a grin, propping your chin on your hand.

“You’re exhausting,” she muttered, though the corners of her mouth twitched upward in a reluctant smile.

Not long after, Sevika found herself walking alongside you through the crowded streets of Zaun, her broad frame serving as a shield against the jostling crowd. She wasn’t sure how she’d ended up in this situation again, but you had a way of dragging her along. Your sheer persistence overpowering her better judgment.

“Did you eat today?” she asked abruptly, her sharp tone betraying the faintest hint of concern.

“Oh! I had some bread earlier,” you said brightly. “And maybe a candy bar?”

Sevika stopped dead in her tracks, her glare making you shrink slightly. “That’s not food. Come on.”

You blinked, confused. “Where are we going?”

“To get you something real before you pass out,” she grumbled, taking your arm and steering you toward a food stall. The smell of sizzling dumplings filled the air as Sevika ordered for you, her tone curt but efficient. She handed the vendor a few coins before shoving the steaming plate into your hands.

“Sit,” she ordered, pointing to a nearby bench.

You obeyed, settling onto the seat and swinging your legs like a child as you dug in. The first bite was heavenly, and you made a small noise of appreciation that made Sevika smirk despite herself.

“You’re amazing, Sev,” you said between mouthfuls, your words slightly muffled.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” she scolded, sitting beside you.

You swallowed quickly, flashing her a wide grin. “Sorry. You’re just so good at taking care of me.”

“Someone has to,” she muttered, shaking her head.

“You’re like a big, grumpy teddy bear,” you teased, nudging her side.

She gave you a flat look. “A teddy bear?”

“Yeah! You act all tough, but deep down, you’re just a big softie.”

“Keep talking like that, and I’ll leave you here,” she warned, though the faintest trace of amusement lingered in her voice.

Later, back at Sevika’s apartment, the quiet hum of Zaun’s nightlife served as background noise. The space was sparse and functional, just like her. But tucked into corners and sitting on shelves were small reminders of your influence. There was a cracked vase you’d insisted on saving, a tiny ceramic dog you swore looked just like her, and now the rusted music box, which you’d proudly placed on the shelf next to the others.

“Look at it,” you said, stepping back to admire your handiwork. “It’s perfect.”

“It’s junk,” Sevika replied, though her tone lacked the usual bite.

“Sentimental junk,” you corrected, turning to grin at her.

She leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed. “You’re lucky I put up with you.”

“You’re lucky I’m so charming,” you shot back, sticking out your tongue.

Sevika shook her head, unable to keep the smirk off her face. “Ridiculous.”

You plopped onto her worn-out couch, kicking off your shoes and making yourself comfortable. “So, what do we do now?”

“I work. You stay out of the way,” she said, already moving toward her workbench.

“Boring,” you replied, flipping through a magazine you’d found on the coffee table. The two of you fell into a companionable silence, Sevika tinkering with her mechanical arm while you lazily read. But after a while, your thoughts drifted, and the question that had been nagging at you all day finally slipped out.

“Sevika?” You said softly as your eyes still on the maganize that you were reading.

“What?” she replied as she continued to tinker her metal arm, completely immersed in what she was doing. “Do you think I’m annoying?”

The question caught her off guard, and she turned to look at you. Putting the tool that was on her hand on the desk. “Where the hell is this coming from?”

You shrugged, suddenly finding the magazine very interesting. “I dunno. I just… sometimes I feel like I get on your nerves.”

Sevika sighed, setting down her tools and walking over to sit beside you. “You do,” she said bluntly, making you gape at her. Before you could protest, she added, “But I don’t mind.”

“Really?” you asked, your voice small.

“Really,” she said, her tone softer now. “You keep things… interesting.”

A slow smile spread across your face. “You’re such a softie.”

“Don’t push it,” she warned, though there was no malice in her words.

You leaned your head against her shoulder, letting the cool metal of her arm press against your cheek. “Thanks, Sev.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she muttered, reaching up to ruffle your hair. “Just don’t get used to it.”

But you both knew it was already too late.

banner: @anitalenia

taglist: @cewl-casper @hutaotown @lunatakashi18 @shinyshayminflower @pipirka827363829 @dragonfly41777 @themostlesbianever @abbyssgf @kissyslut @ayedomino0 @amenazaaaa @usedmilkdud @diffusebread @xxblairslairxx @marinayadayada @chx-rrryc0la @komoriiis @beewwebb @pitstopsapphic @kylorey25 @cestlaprincesa @xxblairslairxx @m00nd0v3 @arevik2345 @thesevi0lentdelights

[hoshiros]

—✯ KNEE SOCKS

AM Masterlist

cw. 18+ mdni. afab!reader, phone/video sex, established relationship, lingerie, masturbation, HAPPY SAE DAY

"Three."

ITOSHI SAE watches both in fascination and bitter pride as you choke on your own spit. Your nail slowly taps against the side of the vibrator, clicking in the microphone.

Sae clicks his tongue impatiently when you pout at him through the camera, glaring at his stupidly handsome face. "At least let me catch my breath," you glower, burrowing your head against the pillow beneath your cheek.

"Stop stalling. Three."

"Wait—"

"You don't want to disappoint me, do you?"

You seem to contemplate his words for a moment, casting him a shy, tentative glance before you shake your head. The silky lingerie hugging your body slips when you adjust yourself, and Sae can't help the way his eyes gravitate toward the extra flesh spilling over the edge of your thigh-highs.

He grunts, giving himself a squeeze through his sweats at the show. You hesitantly increase the speed of the vibe to three and sputter, pulling it away from your clit in surprise before slowly drawing it against you again.

Some people would think that Sae's favourite view is a vast green pitch crawling with talent. Others would think that it's the sea, wide and sparkling under the sun.

All those idiots are wrong.

His favourite view would always be you on your knees, fists pulled tight around whatever you can grab, face pushed down—helpless and wanting him more than anything in the world. Nothing makes his blood boil hotter.

"Wish you were—" your words tumble into nonsense, high-pitched babbles and whines until the toy slips a little, giving you a chance to speak. "Wish you were here."

"Yeah? Greedy girl, can't get enough, hm?"

"S’not as good without you," you sniffle, feet kicking up and down. They thud softly against the mattress as you writhe, forcing yourself to look at the camera.

The thing Sae hates the most about Spain is that he's confined to a video chat. His fingers twitch, instinctively wanting to reach out to grab you by the hips and give you that little extra help he knows you need.

"I know you can do it," he croons, and through the video you can see his head tilt to the side almost mockingly. "Or do you need me to fuck you that bad?"

You hiccup and shake your head again, pulling your knees closer to your body and angling yourself better for him to see. He almost smiles at the sight—that constant determination he adores so much about you.

The new angle makes you breathless, face turning into the pillow as you gasp and squeal. Sae was more careful with his ministrations than you were with this stupid piece of plastic. 

"That's it," he presses, hips jutting against the fabric of his own pants to try and find some friction. "So pretty."

You cry and cry and cry, voice breaking the longer play with yourself. "Sae," you pant, muffled by the pillow. "Sae... Wanna cum, please? Can I?"

He hums low, agonizingly indecisive. Then, finally,

"Go on."

It only takes a few seconds before you sob, feet kicking again while you cum. Sae is about to laugh when you shake so hard the propped-up phone almost topples over. It gets caught in his throat when you pull the toy away and he can see the slick glistening down its side in the light.

Sae is transfixed. His fingers slip past the elastic of his waist band before he can stop himself and he lets out the tiniest of groans when he squeezes his length proper.

Sticky cum coats his thumb when he swipes over the tip with it, but it's not enough. He needs more. He'd always need more of you—maybe even more than you needed him.

He would never admit that to you, though.

"Again."

[jxwl4k]

The Only Exception

Plot: Bakugou hates everyone but YN, the only one who softens his tough exterior.

Bakugou Katsuki wasn’t known for his friendliness. In fact, the opposite was true. He was brash, loud, and always seemed to have a scowl on his face. Most people avoided him, and that was exactly how he liked it. Except for one person: YN.

No one could understand how someone like YN, always smiling and filled with sunshine, could handle someone as explosive as Bakugou. It didn’t make sense. Bakugou seemed to hate everyone, but for some reason, when it came to YN, his attitude completely shifted.

The moment YN entered the common room, his eyes softened. She bounced in, her usual cheerful self, waving to everyone in the room.

“Hey, guys!” she called out, her smile lighting up the space. Kaminari, Sero, and Kirishima waved back, used to her bright personality.

Mina leaned in and whispered to Kirishima, “Watch. He’s gonna melt the second she talks to him.”

Sure enough, YN walked over to Bakugou, who was slouched on the couch, arms crossed and glaring at the TV. His scowl softened just slightly as she approached.

“Hey, Katsuki,” she said softly, sitting down beside him.

“Tch, what do you want?” he grumbled, but there was no bite to his words. In fact, he shifted slightly, making more room for her to sit closer.

She grinned. “Just wanted to see what you were up to.”

He huffed, his eyes still glued to the screen. “I’m watching a stupid show ‘cause these extras can’t pick a decent channel.”

“Hey!” Kaminari called out from across the room, clearly offended. “This show is awesome!”

Bakugou ignored him, his focus still on YN. She just laughed and leaned into his side. To everyone else, Bakugou was intimidating and aggressive. But with YN, it was like he was a completely different person.

“Wanna get some fresh air?” she asked, her eyes sparkling as she looked up at him.

He glanced at her for a moment, then shrugged. “Whatever. I was getting sick of sitting around with these idiots anyway.”

As they stood up, the rest of the group exchanged knowing looks. Bakugou had always been protective of YN, and while he seemed to hate everyone else, it was clear to everyone that he was softer when she was around.

Once they were outside, YN breathed in deeply, enjoying the cool air. Bakugou walked beside her, his hands shoved into his pockets. His usual tense expression had eased, and he glanced at her every so often as if making sure she was okay.

“You’re the only one who gets away with making me do stupid stuff like this,” he muttered under his breath.

YN smiled, nudging him playfully. “That’s because you secretly love it.”

He scoffed but didn’t deny it. She had a way of breaking down the walls he built around himself, and he didn’t mind it when it was her.

They walked in comfortable silence for a while until YN suddenly stopped. “Katsuki?”

“Hm?” He turned to face her, raising an eyebrow.

“Why are you so different with me?”

The question seemed to catch him off guard, and for a moment, he didn’t know how to respond. His usual bravado faltered, and he shifted uncomfortably. “What do you mean?”

“You’re…kinder. I mean, not to everyone, but with me, you don’t act the same.”

Bakugou looked away, his jaw tightening as if struggling to find the right words. Finally, he let out a sigh. “Because you’re different.”

She blinked, surprised by his answer. “Different how?”

He rubbed the back of his neck, clearly frustrated with himself. “You’re not annoying like the rest of them,” he muttered. “You don’t piss me off. I don’t feel like I have to be on guard with you.”

YN smiled softly, stepping closer to him. “So, you don’t hate me?”

He rolled his eyes, but his lips twitched slightly, like he was holding back a smile. “No, idiot. You’re the only one I don’t hate.”

Her heart fluttered at his words, and before she could stop herself, she wrapped her arms around him in a tight hug. Bakugou stiffened for a moment, not used to physical affection like this, but then he relaxed, his arms hesitantly wrapping around her.

“Tch, you’re such a pain,” he mumbled, though his hold on her tightened ever so slightly.

YN just grinned into his chest. “You love it.”

And though he would never admit it out loud, she knew he did.

[softspiderling]

if you can't take it (then get back) | j.v

summary:

“You sound surprised.”

“I just…” you paused, struggling to find the right words to convey what you were trying to say without outright insulting her heir. But Rhaenyra only chuckled, giving a slight nod, understanding.

“He has been rude to you, hasn’t he?”

OR; Your first meeting with the Crown Princes leaves much to be desired.

pairing: jacaerys velaryon x reader

warnings: jace is a classist guys, idk what to tell you, minimal violence, reader is a dragonseed but no descriptors were used <3 also OBVIOUSLY jace and baela are not betrothed in this fic

word count: 3,9k

author's note: yo to the anon who requested this like a bajillion years ago… i’m sorry it took me so long😔 thanks to my lil goblin master @eldrith for beta reading and being the best sister wife ever🫵🏼🧌

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

"Silverwing. What a beautiful name,” you whispered as you gently stroked your dragon’s snout, Silverwing pressing into your hand as you stood in the middle of the meadow in your new dress.

When you had gone into the forest to pick flowers for your mother’s grave, the last thing you had expected was to leave said forest on dragonback, soaring through the skies, a dream come true. It hadn’t taken long before another dragon quickly joined your sides, its rider introducing himself as Addam of Hull, telling you to follow him to Dragonstone.

Before long, you had pledged your loyalty to Queen Rhaenyra and were offered a place to sleep, a position by her side. Only two nights prior, you had been slaving away at a small tavern on Driftmark, not knowing if you’d something to eat, now you’d never go to bed hungry again.

“A beautiful name for a beautiful dragon.”

“She doesn’t understand you.”

You whirled around, only to see Prince Jacaerys stalk his way up to you, his hand gripping the hilt of his sword.

“My Prince,” you uttered, curtsying. You had heard great things about Prince Jacaerys Velaryon, and you felt giddy to be fighting alongside him for his mother.

Jacaerys came to a stop next to you, giving you a glare before he turned to Silverwing. You took a pause, not having expected to be rejected so brazenly, but you swallowed your pride, turning to Silverwing.

“She’s a beauty, is she not?”

You looked at Jacaerys only to see him roll his eyes and you felt a flash of irritation.

“She doesn’t understand you,” he repeated, as if you were hard of hearing. “We speak to dragons in High Valyrian.”

“Oh, Her Grace had mentioned that, but unfortunately I have not gotten around to-“

“Soves, Silverwing.”

Jacaerys seemed unperturbed as he interrupted you rudely, leaving you at a loss for words. Silverwing let out a growl, pushing her snout against your hand one last time before flapping her wings and taking to the skies. You watched as she danced through the sky, a look of awe on your face before you turned back to the Prince, a heavy weight settling in your chest. You took a deep breath, collecting yourself. Surely you were reading this whole conversation wrong. From what you have heard, the crown prince was an exceptional man and no one had ever uttered a bad word about him, or held any grievances.

“I apologize my Prince, if I somehow offended you.”

Jacaerys let out a laugh, but it held no warmth.

“You can refer to pure theft as an offense, yes.”

“Theft?” You echoed, confused. “You must have mistaken me, I am not a thief, I’m-“

“I know exactly who you are,” Jacaerys sniped. “You stole a dragon of House Targaryen.”

Aye, it seemed like you read the conversation exactly right.

“I did not steal Silverwing. I claimed her- she claimed me.”

“She claimed you,” Jacaerys repeated with a scoff. “You are a common born girl, not fit to be a dragon rider.”

Every ounce of grace and manner left your body at the tone of his voice, your eyes sparkling with fury.

“Pardon?”

“It is not your place to claim a dragon,” he hissed out and you sneered at him.

“Oh, my apologies, my Prince,” you exclaimed, voice so biting it was dripping with vitriol as you bowed your head “I did not mean to step on your toes. Let me just unclaim the dragon!”

Jacaerys rolled his eyes at you, his annoyance clear as day.

“That shows how much understanding you truly lack,” he said and you groaned, throwing your hands in the air.

“I know dragons cannot be unclaimed, I was trying to make a point!”

Jacaerys scoffed, turning his head away. He looked at Silverwing flying in the skies before he turned back to you.

“You kid yourself thinking this gives you any meaning to your life.”

You let out a breath of disbelief, your lips parted in shock. You had heard a lot of insulting words in the years of your life, but never have they been so belittling.

“You do not understand the meaning of claiming a dragon, nor do you deserve it,” Jacaerys bit out, continuing. “You will never live up to the worth of a dragonrider. You are merely a tool in a war you have no control over. You’re a commoner, a lowborn,” he said, his face contorted in anger, stepping closer to you. “A mongrel.”

SMACK!!

Your hand slapped across his face, a reaction to his words that was mostly reflex than anything else, and your eyes widened in shock as as you had realized what just happened, a gasp escaping your lips as you reeled back.

Fuck, did you really just slap the Crown Prince of the Seven Realms across the face like a common beggar?

Jacaerys’ hand flew to his reddened cheek, his lips parted as you stared at each other in shock. You were frozen, not daring to move, fearing the Kingsguard would step out of the shadows any moment to strike you down in retaliation.

When you realized that no knight would come, you spared one glance at Jacaerys before turning to leave, quickly fleeing the scene of the crime.

You had retreated into your chambers after the absolute horror of a first impression. Not even Addam’s invitation for supper had beckoned you out of the room; you were sick to the stomach imagining what kind of punishment Jacaerys was planning.

The glass on the window was cool against your forehead. You had sought refuge at the small nook, your eyes in the sky, watching Silverwing fly through the skies, longing in your chest. Feeling the wind in your hair would make you feel better, you had no doubt, but you didn’t want to anger the Prince even further. A knock on the door made you startle, and with a small sigh, you went to open it. Ser Erryk was stood in front of your chambers, inclining his head.

“My lady,” he said. “The Queen has asked to see you.”

Fear ran down your back at his words. It happened. Prince Jacaerys told her that you had laid your hands on him and she was about to cast you out.

This was too good to be true anyway, it was bound to end. You had always known your temper would be your ruin. You’d just assumed it would be a patron in the tavern striking you down for cursing him out, not the Queen taking your head because you put your hands on her heir.

As you followed the Ser Erryk to the Queen’s study, you wondered how she would end your life. Make Silverwing eat you alive? Burn you? Take your head with a sword? All the options made your insides crawl, and you tried to form some sort of coherent apology in your head, but not a single one seemed sufficient.

As you paused in the door way of the study, Ser Erryk announced you, before leaving. You curtsied, your head low. Queen Rhaenyra gave you a smile, extending her hand to the empty chair in front of her.

“Please, sit.”

Her behavior confused you, you had imagined her angry, furious even. Maybe she was trying to lull you into a false sense of security before putting you in chains. Nervously, you took a seat, dropping your hands in your lap.

“How have you been faring?” Rhaenyra asked, her voice soft. “I couldn’t help but notice you have withdrawn yourself to the chambers.”

You bit down on your lips, unsure on what to say; you knew it was rude not to speak when asked a question, especially by the queen, and you were desperately trying to come up with words, any at this point, but your mind was blank.

“I thought you would be dragonback. Jace has told me you have a formidable connection to Silverwing.”

Your eyes snapped up at her words, your blood chilling.

“He has?”

Was that before or after you slapped him?

Rhanyra smiled at you, her eyes crinkling. “You sound surprised.”

“I just…” you paused, struggling to find the right words to convey what you were trying to say without outright insulting her heir. But Rhaenyra only chuckled, giving a slight nod, understanding.

“He has been rude to you, hasn’t he?”

You lifted your eyes to meet her gaze, your silence answer enough and Rhaenyra sighed softly, laying her hand on yours.

“I hope you can excuse the Prince’s unwelcoming behavior. The war is a heavy toll and he has taken it upon himself to shoulder most of the responsibilities.”

Your lips parted in surprise and you leaned back in your chair, giving a demure nod.

“Of course your Grace,” you said softly. “I cannot imagine what the Prince has been going through”

“I hope his words will not hold you back from further strengthening the bond with your mount,” Rhaenyra continued. “It is of utmost importance that you study as much of what the grandmaester can teach you.”

Ducking your head, you nodded and Rhaenyra pulled her hand back, effectively dismissing you. The chair scraped against the stone floor as you stood and Rhaenyra turned from you to look outside, the skies blue.

“I have been told this time of day is perfect for riding.”

You curtsied, your fingers gripping the soft fabric of your dress as you exited the study, suddenly energized after having talked to the Queen. Your feet automatically carried you back into your chambers, but instead of returning to wallowing, you pulled your riding gear out of the closet, unlacing your dress. With quick strides, you walked down to the dragonmount and within moments, you were on Silverwing’s back, soaring through the air.

The wind in your hair was exhilarating, just as you had imagined, and it seemed like all the burden was lifting off your shoulders the longer you were in the skies. You leaned down, brushing your gloved hands against Silverwing’s neck when she let out a snarl, suddenly changing her directions. Puzzled, you peered forward, trying to see what caught her attentions when you saw a smaller dragon at the edge of the island of Driftmark. Its scales were green, a burnt orange and your chest tightened a little when you recognized it as Vermax, Jacaerys’ mount. Letting out a small sigh, you tightened Silverwing’s reigns, pushing your legs into her side, urging her downwards. Before long, Silverwing landed on the soft grass, spreading her wings so you could climb down. Your landing on the ground was anything but graceful, still not quite used to getting off tall heights but if Jacaerys had noticed, he had the courtesy not to comment on it.

Tugging your gloves off, you slowly approached Jacaerys. He was overlooking the harbor of Driftmark. You had never seen it so crowded, with ships and people alike. Nervously, you glanced over to him. Apologies had never come easy to you.

“Good day to ride.”

You regretted your words as soon as they passed your lips, wincing. Out of every words you knew, you chose to say that? Jacaerys shifted on his feet next to you, turning his head slightly.

“Aye.”

He did not speak more, but you found yourself unable to blame him. You just struck him across the face a day ago and now you were talking about the weather? Behind you, Silverwing was growing restless, stretching her wings with a whine as Vermax eyed her, letting out a rumbling growl. An uncomfortable silence settled over you and Jacaerys, and you wrung your hands.

“I was out of line-“ “I apologize for-“

The both of you started at the same time, before stopping again. Your eyes met his briefly, your cheeks flushing.

“Please, you go ahead,” you said quickly him but Jacaerys shook his head.

“No, I fell into your word.”

“I insist, my Prince.”

Jacaerys paused at the honorific, before he nodded, his gaze trained at the ground. He let out a deep breath, raising his head again. “I am sorry for lashing out at you. I regret my words deeply. They came from a place of anger, not honesty.”

You blinked at him, stunned. An apology was the last thing you had expected to come out of the Prince’s mouth. He had no reason to apologize to you, you were of lower rank. Something you had thought he would hold over you.

“Anger… Towards me?”

Jacaerys laughed dryly, shaking his head. “Not truly, no… You had no hand in your parentage, I cannot fault you for that,” he paused, turning his head away, blinking quickly. “And I cannot fault myself for that, either.”

He seemed lost in thought, and you weren’t quite sure what he was insinuating, but you decided against pressing the matter. The atmosphere was still fragile, you didn’t want to risk overstepping.

“I am sorry I struck you,” you said, glancing at him. The cheek you had struck still bore a faint red, which was not surprising, as Jacaerys had fairly pale skin, apart from the small freckles dusted across his nose. He was quite beautiful when he wasn’t yelling at you.

“Oh,” Jacaerys chuckled, his finger brushing over his cheek, like he had forgotten about it. “I guess I deserved that. I called you some… Less than savory things.”

“Still… I’m sorry.”

“You have the temper of a dragon.”

You couldn’t help but blurt out a laugh, quickly covering your mouth. Jacaerys gave you a boyish grin, so different to the Prince you had met the day before.

This.

This is who you had been expecting.

“I could say the same about you.”

“I guess fire and blood runs through both of our veins,” Jacaerys said and you glanced at him, a look of understanding passing through the both of you, your dragons behind you settling down.

“Lykirī, not lykiri.”

“That’s what I said.”

You were sitting on the floor of the library, your back leaning against the bookshelf. Several books on High Valyrian were scattered on the floor around you and if Grandmaester Gerardys were here, he’d keel over and die immediately.

But he wasn’t here. It was just Jace.

Jace.

It was maddening to think that only a moon turn ago you had struck him across the face and now you were sitting together like old friends.

“That is not what you said and you know it,” Jace mused, his hair falling into his eyes as he leaned over a book, before handing it over to you. “Here.”

Your finger tips brushed when you took the book from him and you try to not let it affect you as much as you poured over the book, even thought it felt like his touch left a scorching mark on your skin.

It would be most unwise to let affection distract you, least of all now and least of all for someone like him. Who knew what may come to pass by the next moon or even the morrow? Even if the war’s end should come, the Queen would never allow you near him. You may serve as one of her dragonriders, but you were far from worthy to even be considered as the lady wife of her heir.

“Lyckiri,” you tried again and Jace groaned, leaning his head back against the wall.

“That was worse than before!”

“Ugh,” you whined, closing the massive book with a thud. “I have been studying since we broke fast this morning. I am unable to learn any more words.”

“Do you want to go for a walk?”

“Is that allowed?” you asked and Jace only quirked a grin at you, getting to his feet.

“I’m the crown prince,” he replied, offering you his hand. “Surely no one would take issue with me?”

Rolling your eyes, you took his hand, letting him help you up. The two of you languidly walked outside the library and you could feel the tension seeping from your limbs as soon as the first rays of sunshine hit your skin. You let out a soft sigh, your eyes fluttering shut and you stretched your arms out. Jace was chuckling next to you, and when you peered an eye open at him, he was watching you bemusedly.

“Feeling better?”

“Much,” you sighed softly, wiggling your fingers at him. “You cannot tell me you don’t enjoy the sun and the fresh air, my Prince.”

He quirked a grin at you, dipping his head. “You don’t have to be so formal when it is just the two of us,” he said gently. “You can call me by my given name, if you wish.”

“Me, a low born calling the crown Prince by his given name? What would the council think?” you jested and Jace snorted, very unprincely.

“But,” you started, your voice softer. “Thank you, Jace.”

Jace smiled at youtaking a breath, before exhaling.

“Listen-“

“… is that a dragon?”

Jace whirled around into the direction you were facing, peering into the sky. The sun was shining directly into your eyes, and you squinted them, surely it cannot be a dragon. It was too small. Beside you, Jace blanched, the color draining out of his face.

“That’s Stormcloud. Aegon’s dragon.”

The small dragon seemed exhausted, his wings flapping slowly in the air, almost as if it was dragging itself to the earth of the island, until it finally landed, the small boy ontop of him clambering down. His hair was a stark blonde, one of Jace’s younger brothers.

“Jace!”

“Aegon?”

Jace sprinted towards his younger brother, who met him halfway, taking the boy into his arms.

“What happened? Where’s Viserys?”

Aegon’s eyes filled with tears, and he was tripping over his words as he tried to explain. Your heart ached for him.

“There were ships. They attacked us. I only managed to flee because of Stormcloud. Viserys-“

The blonde boy hid his face in his chest, his small body racking with sobs and Jace wrapped his arms tightly around his brother, his wide eyes flickering to you.

“I-“

“Go,” you urged him. “You have to find your mother.”

With a curt nod, though hesitant, Jace walked back into the Keep with his brother in his arms, leaving you standing in the grass while the dragonkeepers took care of Stormcloud, who seemed content enough to curl up on the warm grass. You didn’t want to imagine what the young dragon and his rider had been through, Aegon seemed inconsolable.

It was much later when you found Jace again, his shoulders tense and his strides quick. His forehead was creased in a frown, his eyes unfocused, so much that he jumped when you touched his arm gently.

“Is everything alright?” you asked him, voice soft.

Jace shook his head, his face pained, eyes wet with unshed tears.

“The Triarchy. Their fleet attacked the ship Aegon and Viserys were on while they were traveling on the Gullet. They have Viserys.”

“What?”

Jace sniffed, turning away from you, his head held high. You wanted to offer him comfort, at the same time, you didn’t want to overstep, so you wrapped your arms around yourself, letting Jace compose himself. He exhaled deeply, before letting out an annoyed growl, shaking his head.

“I have to go.”

Go?

“You can’t possibly mean the Gullet.”

“What else would I mean?” Jace snapped at you; and for the first time since you have made up with him, he reminded you of the Prince that had made you feel so small in the beginning. You knew his anger wasn’t directed at you, but you took a step back, mostly out of impulse. Jace took notice, sighing softly and his shoulders deflated.

“I’m sorry. I did not mean to raise my voice at you,” he said quietly. You nodded, swallowing thickly, freezing when Jace reached out to take your hands.

“There has to be something I can do. It’s my brother,” He said, his voice breaking and his grip tightened briefly. “I can’t lose another.”

“What if I go?” you blurted out; Jace looked appalled at your suggestion. You paused, before sighing. “Me and the other dragonseeds. We should go.”

Your own words terrified you, even though you knew it was the smartest decision. Neither Rhaenyra nor Jace could go, the future of the realm laid on their shoulders. You and the other dragonriders were expendable and you knew that, but Jace still seemed hesitant.

“Let me go. I’m sure her Grace will agree,” you said, squeezing his hand. “I’m merely a tool in a war I have no control over, remember?”

Jace couldn’t help but let out a laugh at you using his own words against him, shaking his head.

“This is why her Grace brought us in, let us do this.”

You knew you had persuaded him already, his eyes downcast, focused on your hands.

“You can’t even say lykirī.”

His voice was quiet when he spoke again, but there was a faint smile on his lips, so you rolled your eyes with a laugh.

“Lykirī,” you said, the word suddenly rolling off your tongue easily. “You happy now?”

Jace agreed reluctantly with a small nod, and you squeezed his hand one last time, before letting go, your skin missing the warmth his hands were providing.

“Be careful, don’t fly too low,” Rhaenyra said, her arms clasped. Her voice was even, but you could tell that she was tense, fearing for her son’s life. “I am grateful for your service.”

She looked at all the dragonseeds, before nodding her head, turning on her heel to leave the dragonmount, but Jace lingered behind. Addam was the first to mount Seasmoke, then Hugh. As the dragonkeepers beckoned you forward, you called out for Silverwing. You glanced back at Jace, who was already looking at you and you swallowed thickly, pressing your lips together. What if this was the last time you’d ever get to see him?

Silverwing let out a small grumble as she settled against the dock. You took a step towards her, hesitantly, before you turned on your heel, running towards Jace.

“What’s wro-?”

He didn’t get the chance to finish his words as you cut him off by pressing your lips against his and he stilled in shock before he wrapped his arms around you, deepening the kiss. Silverwing let out a deafening growl and you pulled away, your cheeks red.

“I-”

“Don’t,” Jace said, inhaling sharply. “Tell me when you come back.”

You wanted to protest, but the look on his face made you swallowed your words. With a last squeeze of his hand you stepped away from him, mounting Silverwing.

“Lykirī, Silverwing,” you said gently, as she whined softly. “I’m sorry. Soves.”

Silverwing flew out of the dragonmount, and you barely managed to catch one last glimpse of Jace before you were in the skies, joining Hugh and Addam, the latter taking the lead. Despite riding the fiercest creatures on earth, you couldn’t help but feel dread all over. It didn’t ease the closer you got to Gullet, but you tried to stay strong as the cold winds whipped you in the face. Your stomach dropped when the clouds dissipated over the Gullet, revealing an entire fleet of hostile ships across the ocean.

Seven hells, you thought, your breath stocking in your throat, I should’ve told him.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

author’s note: sorry for the ambiguous ending😔pls leave some kindhearted feedback 🫵🏼🩵

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☆ kim mingyu x fem!reader ⇢ domestic fluff, established relationship au. 0.57k words.

“this is a bad idea.”

“this is not a bad idea.”

“i’m going to ruin everything.”

“you’re not going to ruin anything,” mingyu assures, turning to look over his shoulder at you, even though his hair is sectioned off, and your gloved hands are already poised with a streak of dark blue dye.

you groan, throwing him a half-hearted glare. “stop moving! this is already stressful without you wiggling around.”

your boyfriend obediently stills, turning back around and letting you carefully work the dye into his bleached hair. the colour looks ominously dark against the bright blonde; you freeze for a moment, heart pounding.

“what if it comes out patchy? or green? or worse—what if i miss a spot, and you have to walk around looking like a dalmatian?” you say in a rush, trying to focus on evenly coating the strands.

“i think that’d look good, actually,” he teases, but when he notices the tension in the line of your jaw, his voice softens. “seriously, though, you’re doing great. even if it turns out bad, i don’t care. it’s just hair.”

you huff. “you’re saying that now, but wait until it’s done. then you’ll be begging me to shave your head.”

“bold of you to assume i absolutely wouldn’t rock a shaved head,” mingyu says, grinning as he looks at you in the mirror. you shoot him a warning look, and he faces forward, adopting the expression of a chastised child. “sorry, sorry! i’ll stay still.”

“thank you.” you exhale, leaning closer to ensure every strand is thoroughly saturated. the gloves crinkle while you section off another chunk of his hair, carefully applying the dye.

he hums a soft, aimless tune under his breath to fill the silence, the melody curling around you both, gentle and warm. his eyes follow every movement of yours, and his lips curve upwards into a tender smile. “you’re really focused on this, aren’t you?”

“of course i am!” you reply, brows knitting in determination. “you trusted me with your hair, mingyu. your hair. the thing you spend half an hour styling every morning even if we’re just running out to buy milk.”

“first of all, it’s only twenty minutes, not thirty. second, i trust you.”

“yeah, well, don’t get too comfortable. i’m not a professional,” you mutter, though your cheeks heat up at his words because it’s such a mingyu thing to say—unabashedly sincere, the kind of sweetness that isn’t sugar-coated because it simply is. 

“that’s okay. professionals are boring. you’re much better.”

you roll your eyes but can’t suppress the smile tugging at your lips. “you’re such a flirt.”

“can’t help it. my girlfriend’s cute.”

“flattery will not save you if this goes horribly wrong,” you warn, reaching for the dye bottle to squeeze out the last bit of product.

he tilts his head, eyes sparkling with mischief. “good thing i’m not worried, then.”

with one final swipe, you finish applying the dye and step back to inspect your work. mingyu wraps his blue-tinged hair in a plastic cap and peers at his reflection in the mirror. “well?” he asks. “am i handsome yet?”

“you always are.”

“and you say i’m the flirt.”

grinning, you poke his cheek. “sit down and don’t touch anything. i don’t need blue stains everywhere in our apartment.”

“got it, boss,” he says, plopping down on the edge of the bathtub. his expression turns contemplative. “next time, we’re going pink.”

“absolutely not.”

⇢ a/n: everyone say thank you to skye for sending me a series of blue-haired mingyu pics yesterday night that prompted me to lose whatever small amount of sanity i had.