#that I don’t think this part was translated the same

[uselessmoonlight]

Stranger part 11

Reader is Telemachus' friend, and when he leaves for his "diplomatic mission" he asks her to watch over his mother.

Later, once the king has returned, she stumbles upon an injured Poseidon.

Previous / series masterlist / character sheet / next

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Content specs: she/her pronouns used, afab reader, Platonic! Telemachus x reader, Epic!Poseidon x reader, possible OOC!Poseidon, Polites’ daughter! Reader, unrequited love, blood, fighting, nudity, illusion, possibly more?, trying to avoid using y/n, slowburn, suggestive themes, English is not my first language, sorry if it's too much exposition, it's my first fic.

Ónoma literally means name in Greek, at least according to google translate. View this as the y/n of this fic.

☆☆☆

“You know what, I wasn’t gonna go into town today, but I need to cool off. I’ll see you in a bit.” Peach exclaimed, still shocked at the man’s audacity.

“Did I get you that hot and bothered? Wait you’re really going to leave me here? At least get me inside!” He demanded, but Ónoma only kept walking. “Please?” He called out in desperation. “Oh, come on I said please didn’t I?"

“Wretched woman. Can’t even have any fun around here.” He grumbled. He could crawl back to the house, but he was too proud for that. He could remain seated here, but he’d be vulnerable, for as far as a God could be. He could try and stand, but he’d probably only injure himself more. Poseidon groaned, what had he gotten himself into? Maybe she’d treat him better if she knew he was a God, but then again, he was injured.

☆☆☆

Of course, Agathe had to be the one to open the door. Peach really wasn’t in the mood to interact with the priestess, but Agathe seemed to sense as much and called for her younger sister. Irene was bathing, so she’d have to wait a bit. As she sat at the table with Agathe, she could only think about the comment.

The comment was bold and demeaning, but she also couldn’t help but feel flattered. The man in question was exceedingly beautiful, but he was still a man. Men would fuck a rock if it had a hole, stop it. She cursed herself.

“You seem a bit flustered, I don’t think it’s because of me, but if it is.” Agathe inhaled, then continued. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable, it mustn’t  be nice to be in a position where you’d have to stop a person from doing that. I’ve spoken with and apologised to Arete, if it makes you feel any better, and I’m extremely grateful for your discretion about the situation. I feel so ashamed of what I could’ve done.” She rambled.

“Agathe, you stopped the moment I stepped in. Sure, you should’ve stopped when she told you to, but maybe you didn’t hear her. I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt and you’ve showed remorse. I’m not upset with you, anymore, it’s something else. Don’t worry, alright.”

“I know we’ve never really been friends, but my sister cares about you, so by extension, I care about you. At least a little bit. I’m here if you ever need to talk.”

“Thank you, Agathe. The same goes for you, though now is not really good time, but if it’s something urgent-”

“Thank you.” Agathe interrupted, giving her an understanding nod. “You’ve got your own things to worry about right now.” She smiled softly at the younger girl.

☆☆☆

“So, what did you want to talk about?” Irene questioned her friend.

“I needed to clear my head, walk with me?”

“And you came to me, instead of Telemachus? I’m honoured, you usually go to him with your dilemmas. Wait, is it about him?” Irene interrogated.

“No, it’s not about Tele, and I talk to you about plenty of stuff, he’s just a bit more serious than you are.”

“That’s putting it lightly.” Her friend snorted. “I shouldn’t laugh, I’m sure if I had to grow up around those pigs I’d be the same.”

“You’d probably be ogling them, Renebug.”

“You offend me, I’d never go for such dogs.” Irene said in mock offense. “No, you’re right I’d definitely appreciate looking at some of them. From afar! I wouldn’t dare go near them. It’s such a pity when the handsome ones are so…” She paused.

“Misogynistic? Beastly? Repulsive, personality wise? Abrasive? Arrogant?- ” Ónoma listed.

“All of the above?” Irene suggested. The two giggled at their own antics.

“This is exactly what I meant, by the way.”

“Yeah, I’m way less serious, I get it. So, what did you want to talk about, if it wasn’t your other half?”

“There’s this man-”

“By the Gods! You? Thinking about a man? I never thought I’d live to see the day!” Irene exclaimed, pretending to faint in her friends arms. “Fan me, Peach, I think I’m in shock.”

“Gods Irene, get up.” Ónoma giggled, pushing her dramatic friend away. “You don’t even know what I want to say.” She sputtered out between laughter.

“Well go on then, I want to know everything. Is he handsome?”

“Ethereal, but it doesn’t matter, he’s a pain in my ass, that’s what he is.” Irene was taken aback, she’d never heard her friend describe a man as attractive, much less ethereal. She’d have to see it for herself one day.

“I found him, stranded on the beach, more injury than man. I’ve been taking care of him, but he’s… He’s like if the suitors were all bark no bite.” Irene’s eyes widened.

“He’s that bad, huh? Maybe you can get your little prince to kick him out.” Irene calling her friend that did not offend her. Perhaps she was biased, though not unfounded, or perhaps the context and the tone mattered. Irene hadn’t meant for it to be derogatory, she actually got along nicely with the prince, not that their paths crossed often.

“I wouldn’t want him to piss off Zeus, from what the king told me they don’t have a great track record with him.”

“Wait, hold on, you spoke with the king? When was this?” Irene exclaimed.

“I had dinner at the palace yesterday, as a thank you for protecting Queen Penelope. Don’t think it earned me any favour with the royals, if anything it did the opposite. I don’t really want to talk about it.” While Irene was a massive gossip, she knew that she could trust her with this. Her friend would never share the secrets Ónoma told her.

“I could come by, then we could be so annoying that he’d want to leave without kicking him out.”

“I’ll keep that in mind, thank you.” Peach laughed. “No, I’d feel bad about him leaving before he’s healed properly.”

“Ever the saint.” Irene rolled her eyes, smiling. Then in a more serious tone she continued. “Your mother would be proud. She taught you well, you could still become a healer if all of your ‘helping out’ ever gets to be too much.”

“I’ve been considering it more and more recently, but I’m not ready to step away from everything else just yet.” Ónoma muttered, softly.

☆☆☆

When Ónoma returned to her house, she was a lot calmer, that was until she saw Perikles. The man had gotten halfway to her house by pushing the mat he was sat on through the sand with his legs, but had seemingly given up. Now, he sat in the middle of the sand, glaring at the girl who was doubled over in laughter. The construction workers had finished up and had already left. She imagined he’d waited for them to leave, before he attempted to do whatever it is he did.

“Alright, let’s get you inside.” Peach said, still snickering. The man was still glaring at her, but didn’t protest as she helped him up.

Next.

☆☆☆

Taglist:

@apollos-dodgeball-target

@barrythestrawberry041

@doodle-with-rhy

@isla-finke-blog

@suckerforblondies

@trashcannotbealive

[femme-enby]

FNAF SB AU ideas off the top of my head.

You’ve heard of coffee shop AU, now I present:

Fast food. Plenty of options- American, Mexican/“mexican”(cough-TACO BELL-cough), Chinese/“chinese”…

If you’ve never worked fast food (must be nice to be one of the favorites…) it generally sucks. Crazy rushes. Tight on space. Running into each other/swift dodging. You’ll get 20 separate orders of basic shit, cool! All of a sudden, your average order cost of $5-$20, with $50 bein a “big” order ain’t shit bc you just got some asshole in the drive thru askin for 50 $2 value chicken sandwiches & 50 $3 value burgers. “Tf you mean you want 100 sandwiches rn and you’re gonna pay $250 in mostly 5s and 1s??? Sicko. Drop all the mini chickens & I need a full grill of mini burgs for the foreseeable future. Idc that the grease bucket for the grill is overflowing, you know you don’t either. Don’t slip bc they’ll make me clean the mess since I can’t get any biohazard type illnesses.”

You’ve all heard of the beloved Roller Rink AU, we’ve all seen “y/n is pizzaplex janitor” now get ready for their loathed hatechild- retail AU. Naw, not no designer shit. We fightin for our lives in the “MalWart.” “Yeah no it’s crazy that they want us to complete 10 pallets in hardware in 4hr when each pallet takes about an hour… wait WTF you mean they’re all screws and washers???? That whole pallet????? Fuck me… and fuck them. And fuck that pallet actually, bc that’ll take at least 2hr all on its own. Yeah no I did mean that it would take YOU two hours. It would take ME the whole shift. Some of us ain’t blessed with the speed & dexterity of a supercomputer powered body you show off.” (A million possibilities! Deli, bakery, dayshift department options of your choice, overnight stocking, security, etc)

Nothin? Not lovin it?

Tbh I’d suggest some others but I know I’ve seen them already- someone’s already got a general amusement park AU (the fic is somewhere in my 150+ tabs… I will find you…) although they do focus on being a ride operator… so there’s still food & beverage, security, janitor/“maintenance”/“Park Services”, actual maintenance as in like dealin w fixing basic issues like broken chairs/tables, as well as tech dealing with minor errors in rides, lights, audio, etc. character/character “buddy” (think Mickey Mouse & his Disney employee handler).

I’ve also seen like… goth IHop somewhere… I miss you…

Also seen psych ward, school, VR, someone… someone’s got haunt but w jackomoon in a corn maze… (I’m gonna find you again too… you won’t escape my love…) seen street racers, a… surprising amount of cops… hmm…

Aiight I know someone’s got the restaraunt AU, think it’s the same person w a hair salon AU, but!!! HEAR ME OUT!!! Basic restaraunt. Step up from fast food in terms of quality & money earned, BUT!!! We all still fightin to not knock out some of them damn customers. The best part of the shift is when the server gets to slink into the kitchen and stare longingly at the cook, who either eagerly or “grudgingly” makes them a meal. Bonus points for inhaling the food and fighting the chipmunk cheeks away as they rush back out to the floor.

Another idea I had was “translator” as in the human has moved, whether out of personal desire or demand from employers, to another country where they don’t speak the language, one way or another they come in possession of the DCA. DCA can act as a translator, assist in assimilating, take on the roll as your first “friend” in the new place and guidance around the city… idk. I think it would be a cool way to utilize the “computer” part of them.

Also… gaining sentience. Personally I tied it into the “translator” idea- they come to you as a fairly simple animatronic in the sense that they don’t really differ too much in personality between Sun & Moon, generally devoid of much of a personality, baddabing badaBOOM (idk tech, I had them struck by lighting like Dr. Frankenstein type nonsense) they’re suddenly two separate people w whole personalities & shit, but also tryin to figure out this whole “being sentient” thing (which I am not the first to have that specific idea, can’t remember who but I saw someone who did something similar but it was like… some storm related surge at the pizzaplex? And then they started zappin all the animatronics… I… think I know who wrote that, but bc I ain’t sure I’m not sayin shit bc I’d be so fuckin embarrassed if I got it wrong and I gotta go to sleep so I can’t look it up myself right now… so tired.)

[mxtxfanatic]

Just remembered a section in svsss that was translated differently and why I think the official does a better job of portraying the interiority of Shen Qingqiu as a character than the fan translation did. Here is the section directly after Shen Qingqiu kills the Skinner Demon, when it sinks in exactly what he has done:

This is Shen Qingqiu’s first time making a move to ‘kill.’ But he didn’t hesitate at all. Because firstly, this is a novel; secondly, this was a demon that had killed countless people; thirdly, if he didn’t make a move then he would have been the one to die.

Shen Qingqiu looked at the ‘Butterfly’s’ twisted limbs, a horrible sight as blood flowed from all seven apertures, overly beaten. He used the three reasons listed above to clear his mind and brainwash himself.

—Chapt. 8, fan translation

In the fan translation, the wording of “clear his mind” makes it feel like he’s trying to clear his conscious, convincing himself that he was acting justly through “brainwashing.” This makes the priority seem like settling his morality vs. his emotions. But in the official translation:

This was the first time Shen Qingqiu had killed someone. But he didn’t hold back, not even a little. First, because this was a book; second, because this was a demon who’d killed countless people; and third, because if he didn’t, he’d be the one who got killed.

Shen Qingqiu gazed down at the horrible state of “Die- er”: four limbs twisted and broken, bleeding from the seven facial apertures. He turned away, bombarding his own brain with a barrage of his three reasons until they blocked out the screen of his mind.

—Chapt. 2: Mission, official

…it is much clearer that Shen Qingqiu is not trying to convince himself of his own righteousness but, instead, is trying to block out the horror he was forced to commit for his and his students’ survival by logicing his way through the situation. He doesn’t feel like this is a book. He doesn’t feel like a hero valiantly striking down a villain in a made-up story. He feels like a man who just killed someone. And if he doesn’t want to lose his mind over it, he has to learn to cope. Thus begins his journey in dissociating by overly depending on “story logic” to soften the reality of the horrors he faces.

Shen Qingqiu isn’t blind about what is happening in the world of pidw now that he has transmigrated, and he isn’t in denial about how real the people and creatures of the world are. But the official translation does a better job of showing this nuance, which is why it is my favorite!

[ayzaart]

graffiti (pow-pow and jinx)

[milolunde]

We all know Timmy is Wanda’s mama’s boy but we need to keep in mind he’s still Cosmo’s kid too and that Cosmo would love him just as vehemently as Wanda

[ocdhuacheng]

I have… lots of thoughts on milsiril and kabru and the commentary on mixed-race family/adoption, in particular white parents with children of color. I think it’s really cool kui incorporated this into the story because lots of (particularly white) people just think adoption is this pure altruistic thing and don’t think about the negative affects it has on kids (again, kids of color) to not have people of their own culture to grow up with.

[hanzajesthanza]

you guys… we did it!!!

just wanted to thank you everyone for being a part of this blog… “big things to come soon”

[catilinas]

cic. att. 14.10.1 trans. e-pistulae / lucan, pharsalia 7.638-46 trans. a.s. kline

[thatringboy]

would my genshin impact ocs translate well to honkai star rail hmm

[ava-of-shenanigans]

Ahhhhhh I forgot how much I liked the Destruction of Mankind <333333

[lowkeyren]

in which : alhaitham speaks to you in 5 different languages, unaware that you understand every word he says.

wc 7.3k (pls give it a chance lol), academic rivals to lovers, unrequited hate, attempt at humor, college au, denial + pinning.. crazy ik, he falls first (and harder), tw stalking by a drunkard, a genius on paper but a total dumbass when it comes to crushes, lil smau at the end!, ft. sumeru gang. art by @/gamegatchihaja on x.

ps. translations ay nasa maliliit na titik, katulad neto!!

ps. translations will be in small letters, like this!!

PROLOGUE: GOD I HATE THIS GUY! (DOES HE THINK IM STUPID?)

the semester is nearing its conclusion, and the imminent approach of finals marks the most critical period of the year; students rush through the halls, clutching their notes and textbooks like lifelines, while you pour every ounce of effort into your studies —not just for your grades, but also to surpass a certain arrogant scholar. 

alhaitham. 

the name tastes like spoiled milk on your tongue, a sour reminder of all the times he’s bested you, even if it’s just by a small margin, leaving you dumbfounded when the difference between your marks during the last exam was a mere 1%. 

you were groveling in front of your professor, “please, just round the marks up?” you could practically feel your dignity slipping away. and the worst part? you were so desperate that you started mentally calculating how many odd jobs you’d be willing to do just to sweeten the deal. 

(maybe you’ll help organize the office, run around the campus to buy him drinks every day, or even wipe down the windows of his car…)

disclaimer: he ultimately said no, but he did compliment your impeccable taste in coffee so, a win is a win? 

anyhow, alhaitham’s nonchalance only adds to your frustration, especially when he switches to a different language mid-conversation. it feels like he’s rubbing salt in your wounds, why of course you can understand him perfectly —after all, you aren’t majoring in linguistics for no reason, plus he's not the only one who’s fluent in multiple languages.

though you keep that to yourself, perhaps because the things he says in those languages, which he assumes you don’t understand, are far from innocent, unknowingly letting you have a glimpse into his true feelings. 

ACT I: WHOLEHEARTEDLY, I DETEST YOU. 

alhaitham would never fall in love —such irrational and illogical emotions held no value to him. 

that was what he always believed, but then he saw you. 

the way you laughed so unapologetically at cyno’s jokes, how you always stood firm by your beliefs, your refusal to compromise who you are; you were a breath of fresh air in a world that often felt stifling.

as much as he tries to act unfazed, he can't help the heat prickling his skin nor the way his composure falters just slightly in your presence. and when his heart raced for the first time in what felt like forever, he knew —he was completely, utterly screwed.

(“fix me, kaveh.” / “hah. who do you think i am, ‘y/n’?”)

when kaveh told him that he just had a simple “crush”, he nearly rolled his eyes so hard he thought they might get stuck there permanently.)

likewise, this ugly arrogant handsome bastard here, is one you’ll never fall in love with. 

he’s infuriating, completely insufferable, and yet there’s something about him, something hidden beneath that arrogance, that draws you in. the idea that you could ever fall for someone like him seems laughable, impossible even. he's exactly the kind of person you should avoid and you know better than to be charmed by someone like him. yet, there's that nagging feeling, deep down, that perhaps you’re not as immune to him as you think.

by some stroke of luck, you’re in the same major, same year, and even enrolled in the same lecture periods, which means you end up in the same place at the same time more often than not.

but you can’t deny that, in some twisted way, you admire him. his intellect is beyond impressive, even if it annoys you to admit it. so surely, in his eyes, you’re still inferior, and you often wonder if he even considers your ideas as worthy of attention.

(they are.)

ACT II: YOUR WATCHFUL EYES, I CAN’T IGNORE.

your pen glides across the pages as you jot down notes, fully absorbed in your studies, barely registering the faint sound of distant chatter.

unbeknownst to you, a group of students has gathered just outside the lecture hall, peeking in from the door with curious, amused expressions. they’re clearly there for you, exchanging glances and murmurs, waiting for the moment you step outside.

you don’t notice, but alhaitham, seated a few feet away, certainly does.

his eyes narrow slightly as he takes in the scene. he doesn’t say anything at first, but his jaw clenches ever so subtly. as you begin to pack up, you glance up to find him standing in front of you, his tall figure effectively blocking the group outside’s direct line of sight to you.

with a discreet glance over his shoulder, he shoots them a cold, unmistakable glare. they visibly shudder, seemingly getting the message as they awkwardly shuffle away. 

“what was that about?”

alhaitham leans against your desk, “nothing important,” his tone is dismissive, laced with irritation, his gaze still fixed on the now-empty doorway. 

you narrow your eyes, unimpressed. “really? you just scared them off for no reason?”

“just getting rid of some… distractions,” he says casually, turning his attention back towards you. you raise an eyebrow, clearly not believing his words. “distractions? they weren’t bothering me.” 

his expression remains impassive, “khi họ cứ để ý đến em như vậy… em thấy không phiền, còn tôi thì có.”

“seeing them constantly paying attention to you… you're not bothered by it, but i am.”

“bởi vì cái cách mà em chú tâm hoàn toàn vào một việc gì đó…  nó quyến rũ vô cùng.”

because the way you completely focus on something… is truly mesmerising.

you blink, feeling a momentary flush of confusion and surprise at the words slipping from his mouth. did he just—? but before you can fully process it, he continues.

“vậy nên tôi cũng không thể trách họ khi họ muốn nhìn em gần và lâu hơn được.”

so i don’t blame them when they want to look at you closer and longer.

his words linger in the air, a moment passes before it clicks —he doesn’t think you understand. that’s why he’s speaking so… freely; letting slip things he’d never say outright in a language you both speak fluently.

“nhưng mà… chắc không ai trong số bọn họ có thể sánh ngang với tôi, em nhỉ?”

but… none of them can compare to me, right?

your chest tightens as a surge of warmth courses through you. 

his detached attitude only fuels your irritation. but there’s also a certain satisfaction in knowing something he doesn’t: you’ve understood every single word he’s said.

feigning ignorance, you raise an eyebrow, meeting his gaze with what you hope is a neutral expression. "what are you going on about?" you ask.

his expression remains as stoic as ever, not a single crack in his mask. he simply shrugs, eyes still on you, "just telling you to focus more.”

your grip on the pen tightens, there's a part of you that wants to wipe that smug look off his face, to show him you're not as clueless as he assumes. but not yet —you’re curious to see just how far he’s willing to push.

"right," you mutter under your breath, tapping the pen against your notebook. "focus. got it."

he leans down slightly, one arm resting on the back of your chair while the other presses against the table, effectively caging you in.

"you're wasting time, finals are coming up." he takes a brief pause before continuing, "i wish you the best of luck, you’ll need it.”

your eyes snap up to him in a glare, “don’t you have somewhere to be?" you bite back.

alhaitham straightens, giving you a final glance before turning towards the door. “naturally, i have studying to do.”

“bởi vì tôi sẽ chứng minh cho em thấy rằng chỉ có tôi mới xứng tầm làm đối thủ học thuật của em, không một ai khác.”

because i will prove to you that only i am worthy of being your rival, no one else.

why did he frame it as if it’s a privilege only he can claim? or is he trying to… flatter you?!

you shake your head, no way, that’s ridiculous. finals are coming up, there’s no time to dwell on whatever mind games he’s playing. though if the almighty alhaitham wants a rival, then you’ll show him exactly what it means to stand at the pinnacle.

ACT III: IN MY DREAMS, I SCORED HIGHER THAN YOU.

you’re tired, the kind of tired that seeps deep into your bones. every blink stretches longer than the last and you find it increasingly difficult to focus on the words in front of you. stifling a yawn, you feel the pull of sleep tugging at you, whispering sweet promises of rest.

there’s still time till your next class.

maybe you'll take a moment to close your eyes, just for a few seconds…

did you not get enough sleep last night, or did you stay up late studying again? alhaitham watches silently from across the room, his eyes narrowing as your head droops lower, your exhaustion becoming painfully obvious with each passing second. his gaze lingers on the way your pen pauses mid-sentence, the line on your notebook trailing off as your hand grows heavy.

he pushes himself up from his seat, and approaches your desk; he notices the sunlight streaming through the window, harsh and unrelenting, hitting right over the table where you’re sitting. he looks at you —eyes closed, with the faintest crease of discomfort on your brow.

without a word, he reaches out and slips the pen from your grip, the slight shift causing your fingers to twitch, but you don’t wake. 

for a fleeting second, he considers waking you. but then, as you shift again, settling more comfortably into your chair, he decides against it. what good would that do, anyway? you’d probably just brush him off and keep going until you collapse from sheer fatigue. typical.

instead, he adjusts his stance slightly, positioning himself just right to make sure the sunlight is fully blocked from your face, casting you in a cool shadow. 

you mumble something incoherent, and he can’t help but roll his eyes at your state. did you really think burning yourself out like this would help you focus?

“stubborn,” he mutters under his breath. 

you're always like this, pushing yourself past your limits, and while part of him respects your determination to outdo him, he won’t allow it to come at the expense of your health.

you stir from your slumber, lifting your head, your gaze lands on a familiar figure standing to the side of your table. his back turned, facing the sunlight that streams in from the window. 

alhaitham. 

he’s close, so close that his broad shoulders completely block out the sunlight from the window. the sight sends a rush of confusion through your already sleep-addled mind. did he… stand there the whole time? why? 

you shift slightly in your seat, your movement catching his attention. without turning, he speaks in that low, steady tone of his, “you’re awake.”

“alhaitham?” you murmur, your voice still thick with sleep.

he glances over his shoulder, just enough for you to catch a glimpse of the calm expression on his face. “you’ve been out for a while,” he comments, a hint of amusement in his voice. “i was starting to think you’d sleep through your next class.”

you rub the sleep from your eyes, “why didn’t you wake me up then?”

his shoulders shift slightly as he shrugs, still facing away from you. “you looked like you needed the rest. besides, it’s more entertaining to see how long you’d stay asleep.”

a flicker of annoyance courses through you as you roll your eyes, “oh, so you mean you care?”

he turns slightly, and you can see a hint of a smirk on his lips. “don’t read too much into it. i just prefer my competition functioning at their best.”

you wish you could roll your eyes harder because this man has an uncanny talent for grating on your nerves while somehow being insufferably charming at the same time.

“ah yes —because you need me to keep up with you,” you remark sarcastically.

“exactly.” you let out an exasperated sigh as you lean back in your chair. “you really think so highly of yourself, don’t you?”

“mushiro, kimi no koto o hijō ni takaku hyōka shiteiru yo.”

if anything, i think highly of you. 

your brows knit together in surprise, and you can’t help but scoff. “what was that? i didn't catch it.”

“i said i won’t go easy on you.” oh, the audacity. he’s lying again, and he knows it.

the corners of your mouth twitch in disbelief as you scrutinise his expression. there’s that familiar glimmer in his eyes, a spark of mischief that tells you he’s enjoying this too much.

“whatever,” you retort, crossing your arms defiantly. “not like i want you to anyway.”

despite your words, you can't deny that his actions earlier were surprisingly endearing. you wonder how long he intends to keep this up. perhaps it’s time you let him know.

“ii ne, kimi ga iraira shite iru toki wa kawaiikara.”

good, because you’re cute when you’re all riled up.

you feel a blush creep into your cheeks at his words, okay maybe you shouldn’t let him know. you instinctively look away, as if avoiding his gaze can help you regain your composure.

cute? what does he mean “cute”?! he thinks he can get away with calling you cute —well… well, there’s not much you can do about it, you’re not ready to confront him about this either.

the mere thought of asking him directly makes your stomach twist with a year’s worth of embarrassment. yet, as you try to refocus on the book in front of you, you find yourself biting your lip, struggling to suppress a smile that threatens to break free.

ACT IV: I WOKE UP TODAY, AND A DREAM CAME TRUE.

the hallway buzzes with excitement as students gather around the large announcement board, eager to see the results of their theses. you push through the crowd, heart pounding, the low hum of chatter filling your ears. 

when you reach the front, you quickly scan the list; the moment your eyes land on your name, your breath catches in your throat.

there it is, in bold red ink at the top of the board —a score higher than you’d ever hoped for, higher than his. and your name, on top of his.

alhaitham.

you glance over and spot him approaching the board, approaching you. his expression is, as always, unreadable. but you know him well enough by now to catch the slight pause in his movements, the brief moment where his eyes linger just a second too long on the board.

you try not to think too much about it as you collect your thesis, with alhaitham following closely behind, his fingers nearly grazing yours as you both sift through the stack of papers on the table.

you take in the glowing praise from your professor, each word making you feel like every all-nighter was worth it. you clutch the paper, resisting the urge to grin like an idiot. 

glancing sideways, you wait for him to say something, maybe some backhanded comment, but he remains silent. your eyes meet, and there’s a shift in his gaze as the usual sharpness in his eyes dulls ever so slightly, your smile lingering like the first light of dawn breaking through the night's embrace.

it’s subtle —just a flicker —but you catch how his gaze falters, softening, if only for a heartbeat. the edges of his stare blur, drawn to the warmth of your expression as though it’s something he hadn’t meant to witness, yet can’t look away from. 

at this moment,

"looks like i finally beat you," you say, not bothering to suppress the grin spreading across your face now.

he feels like

there’s no scowl, no sign of frustration —just the slightest raise of an eyebrow. “hmm. by a point.” he pauses, studying you for a second longer than necessary before returning his gaze to his paper. “enjoy it while it lasts.”

he's in heaven.

it’s as if he’s not bothered by the outcome at all. in fact, if anything, he seems... satisfied?

"hindi dapat ganito kalala ang epekto ng ngiti mo sa akin."

your smile shouldn't affect me this badly.

“—huh?” your mouth drops slightly open at his words; out of everything, you didn’t expect him to say that. it catches you off guard, making your heart race just a little faster. if you peer closely enough, you might catch a glimpse of the gentle arch of his lips, a ghost of a smile. 

the silence stretches on for a beat too long before he clears his throat and shifts his gaze away from you. “ang iyong ngiti ang pinakamagandang tanawin ng aking araw.”

your smile is the most beautiful sight of my day.

“what?” the word slips from your lips, barely a breath, a soft gasp that hangs in the air. it feels almost surreal and you wonder if you’ve misheard him.

each heartbeat thunders in your ears, a rhythm that matches the erratic flutter in your chest. why is he saying these things, what for in a different language…? there’s no way that he—

"—tulad mo na ang hinangad ko na ligawan, ngunit sa bawat ngiti mo, halip ay mas lalo akong nahulog para sayo."

—like you, who i wish to court, but with every smile, i instead found myself falling for you. 

your breath hitches as your heart stumbles, the implications of his words washing over you like a wave. a rush of heat floods your cheeks, “what… did you say?”

his shoulders stiffen, and there’s a subtle tension in the way his fingers curl against the paper he’s holding. “see you tomorrow, [name],” he mutters, his voice low but hurried, and before you know it, he’s already walking away.

two strange things happened today: 

1. you finally beat your sworn enemy!

2. said enemy… complimented you? 

huh, it’s as if the words slipped out before he could catch them, as if he’s been holding them in for far too long, as if… you notice the way his neck reddens, even as he turns away.

behind the door, alhaitham lets out a quiet breath.

“gago… nagkamali ba ako?”

stupid… did i make a mistake?

to his dismay, an annoyingly familiar voice cuts through the silence. kaveh, who had been waiting just down the hall, notices him standing there, a little too still. 

“oh, what do we have here?" there's a slight pause, followed by a raised eyebrow. "is that—no way, your face is red!” kaveh teases, amusement dancing in his eyes. “what happened there?" he leans in, clearly enjoying himself. "come on, spill the tea..!” 

"not a chance," alhaitham retorts, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms defensively.

just then, kaveh spots cyno and tighnari; grinning, he waves them over. “what’s going on? did alhaitham finally crack under pressure?”

alhaitham would rather reorganise the entire library than listen to kaveh recount what happened.

“i’m leaving.” 

"no, i'm afraid you're not getting out of this one.” cyno steps forward, blocking alhaitham’s path; and tighnari, who has been quietly observing till now, chimes in, “don’t leave us hanging.”

“you’re outnumbered.” 

alhaitham sighs and shakes his head. he hadn’t even thought it was physically possible for him, of all people, to do something as ridiculous as blushing —until today.

(on the other side of the door, their banter echoes through, and you can’t help but chuckle to yourself at alhaitham’s misery.)

ACT V: PLAUSIBLE DENIABILITY, YOU SAY? BUT EVERYONE CALLS IT FLIRTING.

“i think alhaitham likes [name].”

the whole table falls silent before kaveh dramatically slams his glass down on the table, causing a splash of alcohol to spill over the edge. “oh finally, it’s so obvious! have you all seen the way he looks at them?” 

across the table, tighnari taps his fingers absentmindedly on his notebook, his attention only half on kaveh’s (incoming) rant but clearly invested enough, as shown by the slight twitching of his ears, to be listening. 

cyno snickers, “you’re telling me the man who can dissect any philosophical argument can’t handle a little crush? that’s rich.”

kaveh waves a hand dismissively. “come on! remember that time they were partnered up for a project? he was so... uncharacteristically patient! i’d almost say it’s cute if it weren’t alhaitham we’re talking about!”

right, it’d be almost endearing —if it weren’t coming from the most stoic, intimidatingly aloof guy in the entire school. it’d be adorable —if it weren’t alhaitham, who instinctively covers the corner of your table with his hand when you drop your pencil, ensuring you won’t hit your head as you bend down to retrieve it.

oh, you don’t notice (of course not). but your friend dehya, sitting nearby, catches the whole scene out of the corner of her eye. she raises an eyebrow, nudging the girl beside her. 

(“candace, do you see that shit.” / “yeah.”)

“a soft spot for [name], you say? well, i’ve got a story of my own, too.” cyno glances around, ensuring no one else is within earshot, then lowers his voice conspiratorially.  “have you noticed? he doesn’t wear his earphones when he’s around them.”

kaveh pipes up, nodding eagerly.

“he’s got those earphones practically glued to his head, he doesn’t hear anything he doesn’t want to, and he certainly doesn’t talk unless he’s forced to. but around them?” cyno pauses, pretending to think for a while. “not once. he’ll put them away entirely, like he’s actually willing to be… present.”

sure it’s small, subtle, the kind of habit no one would pick up on unless they were looking closely. but to anyone who knew alhaitham well, it tells them more than words ever could. 

for him, actions speak louder than words, even if he often doesn’t realise the meaning behind his own gestures.

his earphones slide down, resting forgotten around his neck, all so he can be close enough to catch the delightful lilt of your laughter. his chair inches a fraction closer, seemingly by accident. a subtle upward twitch at the corner of his mouth, so fleeting and often passing so quickly if one weren’t paying attention.

for him, it’s a language without words.

dehya laughs softly. "for someone who supposedly ‘doesn’t like being bothered,’ he sure seems invested in whatever [name] has to say."

and what sealed their suspicions? 

definitely the time when kaveh complimented nilou’s new bracelet. he glanced over at the man beside him, nudging him lightly. “what do you think?”

alhaitham gave the bracelet a cursory glance, before replying, “it’s nice.” though his gaze flickered back; and almost absently, he added after a pause, “[name] has the same one too.”

oh… oh? well that was oddly specific. kaveh’s eyebrow quirked as he fought to suppress a grin.

alhaitham had noticed a detail seemingly insignificant about [name] —the kind of thing he never cared to show the slightest interest in when it came to anyone else.

the glint in nilou’s eyes seemed to mirror kaveh’s unspoken thoughts, silently agreeing with his suspicions.  

now they’re certain —100% sure, in fact —that alhaitham has a crush on you.

“well, speak of the devil… lovely seeing you here, alhaitham,” kaveh quips. tighnari, ever observant, gives him a pointed look. “your jacket’s missing.”

“someone took it,” alhaitham replies, his tone as composed as always, giving nothing away.

—nothing until you walked past. draped over your shoulders, unmistakable, is alhaitham’s jacket. you don’t notice the way every pair of eyes follows you, or the way kaveh barely stifles a triumphant laugh.

...make that 110%.

(translation: he means he borrowed his jacket because [name] was cold.)

ACT VI: IT’S YOU, WHO COMES TO MY RESCUE. 

the quiet night hangs heavy, the road empty and bathed in the dim glow of distant streetlights. you weave through the streets, but no matter how many twists and turns you take, that weirdo just won’t leave you alone.  

he’s been trailing behind you for blocks now, his persistence grating on your nerves, cornering you with endless “compliments” and invasive questions. you’ve tried to shake him off, but his determination far exceeds your patience.

"come on, just give me a chance," he insists, stepping closer, a little too close for comfort. you take a step back. the smell of alcohol reeks from his breath, and his grin is making your skin crawl. 

"i told you, i’m not interested," you say firmly, keeping your voice steady, but the panic was starting to creep in. you glance at the empty bottle in his hand —he’s definitely drunk out his mind.

“you sure?" he completely ignores your clear discomfort. "how about you just give me your number, yeah?" he slurs out.

"no, i have a boyfriend." you lie through your teeth, hoping that would be enough to make him back off.

unfortunately, he’s as insufferable as he is persistent.

he snorts dismissively, "yeah, right. a boyfriend? you’re just playing hard to get."

you sigh, you aren’t in the mood for this, not here, not now, and especially not with someone like him. "i already told you, i have a boyfriend," your voice now tinged with frustration. "so please, just leave me alone.”

"oh, don't be like that," he steps in front of you, blocking your way. "prove it. call your boyfriend. show me you’re not lying."

your heart races as the man reaches out for you, dodging his hand, you take the chance to look behind him for an escape. just then, you see an all-too-familiar figure in the distance. 

alhaitham. 

you barely manage to suppress a relieved sigh as you wave frantically in his direction. he spots you almost immediately and without hesitation, he rushes over.

"what, this your boyfriend?" the guy sneers with derision, still sounding a little too cocky for someone who was about to get a reality check.

alhaitham steps beside you, you can feel his eyes on you for just a brief moment, the faintest flicker of worry flashing across his face. it’s subtle, almost imperceptible, but you catch it—and it makes your chest tighten.

his voice is low, unmistakably carrying a warning, "yes, i’m their boyfriend. and if you don’t want things to escalate, i suggest you leave." 

the man’s face twists as anger flares in his bloodshot eyes. he takes a step forward, his grip tightening around the neck of the bottle, the glass slightly cracking. "you think you can tell me what to do?" he slurs, gaze wild and unfocused. “y-you think you’re some kind of saviour? *hic* a-and you! how… how dare you reject me?!”

alhaitham doesn’t move, his expression cold and unbothered, and that only seems to make the man angrier. his frustration boils over, and with a snarl, he clumsily swings the bottle in his hand, aggressively lurching towards your direction. 

the world seems to slow for a moment. though before you can even react, alhaitham pulls you firmly behind him with one swift motion, his other arm instinctively rising to shield the both of you from the blow. the sound of glass meeting his forearm is sharp and jarring —you can hear the high-pitched tinkle of glass scattering, the jagged shards bouncing off the pavement, and some skittering across the ground.

but he doesn’t even flinch, his stance unwavering as the man stumbles back, glass crunching underfoot. you’re still frozen from shock, your heart racing in your chest as you watch the scene unfold. 

“big mistake,” he starts, and the man visibly falters. “harassment, assault —keep this up, and you’ll regret every choice that brought you here tonight.”

the man shifts around, clearly disoriented. his eyes dart between you and alhaitham, but it’s clear that the fight’s already left him. “you— you can’t do this!” the man stammers, trying to regain some semblance of courage; unfortunately for him, the tremor in his voice is unmistakable. 

“do you really want to find out?” alhaitham asks, to which the man shakes his head vigorously. “get lost,” he mutters. the man, looking more pathetic than threatening now, quickly stumbles away, mumbling incoherent curses under his breath.

you’re breathless, still clutching the edge of his jacket, fingers trembling slightly as the adrenaline courses through you. 

"are you alright?"

you nod, forcing a small, unconvincing smile."yeah... i’m fine. thanks to you." 

alhaitham’s eyes narrow slightly, scanning you for any sign of injury. you follow his gaze instinctively, glancing down at yourself. that’s when you notice it —not on you, but on him.

streaks of red stain his forearm, where jagged shards of glass must have cut him during the confrontation. the gash bleeds steadily, a dark line of blood seeping through the fabric of his jacket.

"wait," you breathe, your heart sinking. "you're bleeding."

your stomach twists with guilt.

"why didn’t you say anything?" you exclaim.

he shakes his head, a dismissive gesture that does nothing to ease the knot forming in your stomach. "it’s nothing," he says, but the slight furrow in his brow and the tension in his jaw betray his words.

"nothing?" you fix him with a hard glare. "idiot… you just blocked a glass bottle with your arm, don’t try to downplay this."  

you grab his sleeve, tugging it gently but firmly, the fabric sliding beneath your fingers as you pull it up. “—and unless you think an infection is ‘nothing’, you’ll let me take care of this."  

"hold still," you murmur as you settle beside him on the couch, your supplies spread across the coffee table in front of you.

the scent of antiseptic fills the air as you take a disinfectant wipe and gently dab it against the gash. the sting of the alcohol makes him flinch slightly, but he doesn’t pull away. you mutter a soft apology, your movements slow and deliberate as you try to be as gentle as you can.

you open a tube of ointment, squeezing a small amount onto your finger before smoothing it carefully along the edges of the cut. the cool gel glides over his skin, and you can feel the tension in his arm ease ever so slightly under your touch.

“nǐ zhème guān xīn wǒ, huì ràng wǒ wù huì de.”

if you care so much about me, i might misunderstand you.

your fingers pause briefly, the words catching you off guard. you glance up at him, but he only averts his gaze, his eyes remaining fixed on a distant spot beyond the room.

misunderstand? misunderstand what, exactly?

the bandage wraps securely around his arm as you smooth it into place. as you tuck the end of the bandage, his voice comes again, just as soft, but no less clear. 

“—wù huì nǐ duì wǒ yǒu gǎn jué.”

"—misunderstand that you have feelings for me."

your brain short-circuits, and in your shock, your hands jerk. in turn, the bandage tightens way too much, causing him to wince and tense up. before you can apologise, he lets out a light chuckle.

“suǒ yǐ nǐ dān xīn wǒ… nǐ shì bù shì gù yì ràng rén xīn dòng de?”

“so you're worried about me… are you purposely trying to make my heart race?”

his words only make you more flustered, and you find yourself fumbling to fix the bandage. “i’m sorry! i didn’t mean to—”

his chuckle only grows softer, and you catch the glint of amusement in his eyes. “it’s fine.”

you quickly finish adjusting the bandage, trying to focus on anything other than how your heart is now racing. (ironically) 

“you seem flustered,” he comments casually, as if he isn’t the one who just made your head spin. “did i say something wrong?”

you shake your head quickly, hoping to hide the flush creeping up your neck. "no, not at all.”

his lips twitch into the faintest hint of a smirk.

"nǐ bù bì yǎn shì, wǒ xǐ huān nǐ hài xiū de yàng zǐ, tǐng kě ài de.”

“you don’t have to hide it. i like seeing your flustered expression, it’s quite cute.”

(oh this bastard!!!!)

you try to speak, but the words get stuck in your throat. what do you say when someone’s teasing you so openly —and they think you don’t even realise it?

after a long moment, he stands, “it’s getting late, i should get going.” alhaitham gives you a small, almost imperceptible nod, his eyes meeting yours for a brief moment —and there it was, that trace of softness reserved only for you.

he heads toward the door, you watch him, feeling a strange sense of emptiness when he turns away.

“i’ll see you,” he pauses. "...and thank you for tending to me."

you watch him leave, the door clicking softly behind him, and the silence settles back into the room.

you blink, taking a deep breath. what a rollercoaster of a day. yawning, you turn to start tidying up, but your eyes land on something on the couch.

it’s his jacket, draped over the armrest. you notice a tear on the sleeve, just where his injured forearm had been. what truly catches your attention, however, is a folded piece of paper slipping out of the pocket. 

intrigued, you unfold it, revealing his neat, precise handwriting. 

ACT VII: THE SECRET I’VE ALWAYS KNOWN. 

To [Name],  I once believed you to be little more than a nuisance. A bright, well-meaning nuisance, no doubt, but a nuisance nonetheless. One who seemed intent only on striving for perfection, always seeking to best me at every turn, not out of malice but out of some earnest desire to prove your worth. In my arrogance, I mistook your relentless pursuit for a need for recognition, as if you sought my attention in some petty rivalry. Though very quickly, you made me think otherwise.  You saw the world differently, you also saw me differently. You didn’t treat me with the reverence others seemed to, nor did you shy away from challenging me. You refused to be seen as anything other than yourself; and that, in itself, was what made me admire you —what made me long to understand you more. Now, I find that I am standing with half a heart and an emptiness I never knew I could feel, because you showed me what it truly means to crave something more, something I never thought I deserved. You may think I’m a coward for not expressing my feelings more directly, perhaps you are right. I am a coward for fearing to lay bare the vulnerability of my heart. But even in my cowardice, know that my thoughts have always been of you.  If you have seen through my silence and hesitation, if you understand my actions when my words fail me, then perhaps you have already known this truth. I care for you, more deeply than I can fully express. Though I may never be able to say these things as openly as I wish, I’d like you to know that my actions have always been my confession. Even now, I’m still a coward for you. So please, if you decide to give me a chance, I’ll be waiting at nightfall. Helplessly,  Alhaitham. 

you absentmindedly trace the edges of the letter with your fingers while your eyes skim over his writing for the nth time, the ink seeming to blur together with your thoughts as you try to process everything. your fingers curl around the fabric of his jacket, a foolish smile creeping onto your face.

tomorrow’s nightfall feels impossibly far away, yet you can’t wait for it. 

alhaitham lays on his bed, his arm aches slightly from the injury, but it’s nothing he can’t ignore. plus, the bandage you had carefully wrapped around his arm is enough to keep the discomfort at bay. 

(originally, he had only planned to meet you, slip you the note, and be on his way. things didn’t go exactly to plan, but either way, he hopes you’ve read it by now.)

of all the possibilities, he’s never accounted for the one he’d be at mercy of his own emotions; he had always prided himself on his rationality, his restraint. but now? he’s reckless, absurd, foolish even —he can admit that to himself. but he finds he doesn’t care in the slightest.

for as much as he is a coward in your presence, he is just as much a fool in your absence.

ACT VIII: UNDER THE RAIN, I HAVE SOMETHING TO SAY. 

“alhaitham isn’t really an expressive person, so don’t worry if he comes off as distant or uninterested. it’s not that he doesn’t care, he just… shows it differently.”

ah well, ‘differently’ indeed.

“—most importantly, alhaitham doesn’t waste time on people he doesn’t care about, so you must mean a lot to him.”

maybe you didn’t mind how your heart raced when you heard that.

“don’t fuss over it [name], you’ll know when he’s in love.”

how so? 

if he was in love, what would it look like? would you be able to tell, or would it be just another one of those things you had to catch on to?

you wrapped the his jacket tighter around yourself, a faint smile tugging at your lips. it wasn’t the answers to those questions that mattered, but asking them in the first place —that was what made you realize you already knew all along.

the evening air is cool against your skin; a gentle breeze stirs the trees, their leaves rustling quietly, and your heart beats louder than ever, urging you forward.

in the distance, you spot him, standing still in the dim light. and without a second thought, you quicken your pace.

“haitham.”

the sound of your voice catches his attention as he turns to face you; you can’t help but notice how his gaze flickers down for just a moment, his eyes taking in on how his jacket looks on you, before meeting yours. 

his posture is unnervingly perfect, rigid almost to the point of stiffness …is he nervous?

“hey,” he finally says, clearing his throat. “there’s something i need to tell you… though you’ve probably already figured it out. you’ve always been sharp.” 

“i… ” he falters, and it’s the first time you see him hesitate. “i’m not sure how to put it… since i’m not exactly great at this.”

you tilt your head, subtly urging him to continue. 

“but you’ve managed to make me care about things i never thought i would. and now i can’t seem to stop thinking about it —about you.” his voice lowers, softer now, but there’s a rawness there that’s unmistakable.

“i’m telling you this now, because not saying it... doesn’t feel right anymore."

suddenly, you feel a soft mist that barely kisses your skin, a slight chill against your cheeks, then a few tiny drops,  until they start to gather in your hair, the beads of water slipping down the back of your neck, but you don't move. neither does he.

his hair is damp, sticking to his forehead, droplets trailing down his temple. his clothes cling to his frame, soaked by the rain, yet his attention remains solely on you.

“[name], i am irrevocably in love with you.”

you stand there, the rain falling relentlessly around you, the pitter-patter mirroring the frantic beat of your heart. the water trails down his face, but it’s hard to tell if it’s just the rain, or something else.

his lips part, as though he wants to say more, but the words seem caught in the storm, swallowed up by the downpour. the rain is cold, but his gaze? his gaze feels impossibly warm. 

it’s only when you feel the dampness of his jacket beneath your fingers, that the words finally come. “you don’t need to convince me of that.”

you take a step closer, and for a moment, the world outside seems to disappear.

“i’ve known,” you add. “but hearing you say it,” you pause, allowing yourself a small smile, “makes all the difference.”

reaching up, your fingers graze his damp skin as you gently push a wet strand of hair from his forehead, the warmth of your touch lingering against his cool skin. 

“'uhibuk aydan, alhaitham.”

i love you too, alhaitham.

a single droplet slides down his cheek, tracing the line of his jaw before falling to the soaked fabric of his collar. another follows. and then another. his breath catches in his throat, and a shaky exhale leaves his mouth.

you wrap your arms around him, and he sinks into your embrace, his hair tickling your cheeks, as his chest rises and falls against yours.

“you’re gonna make me cry too, idiot,” you murmur, burying your face in his chest, your eyes glassy. “you really are a fool,” you tease softly, a slight smile playing on your lips. “but only for me.”

slowly, his hands rise, trembling slightly, until they cup your cheeks, gently stroking it. 

“la yujad 'ahad akhar 'urid 'an 'akun 'ahmaq min 'ajlihi.”

there’s no one else i’d ever want to be a fool for.

his palms are surprisingly warm despite the weather. his thumb grazes your cheekbone as he leans in, and the world falls away —nothing but the warmth of his presence and the soft press of his lips against yours.

“this is my first time in ten years seeing this guy cry! can you believe it?!” kaveh whisper-shouts, peeking out from behind the shrub. 

nodding along, cyno agrees, poking his head out just right below the blond’s. “[name] is truly exceptional. though i must say, seeing alhaitham cry is quite tear-rifying.”

kaveh rolls his eyes in exasperation. “ugh, you and your puns.” he mutters under his breath while zooming in on his phone, which is currently recording the whole scene.

“quiet down, you two!” a voice hisses from behind them —tighnari, face flushed with panic. “they’re literally right there, and you’re making more noise than a herd of goats.”

“relax, we’re out of their line of sight anyway!” kaveh raises his phone higher, almost giddily, eyes glued to the screen. “and damn this is a good angle.”

tighnari exhales sharply, “you’re incorrigible.”

“look who’s talking,” cyno raises an eyebrow at tighnari… who’s also peeking out from behind the bush. (what a hypocrite)

…

“they kissed oh my g—” kaveh’s voice rises in disbelief, but cyno quickly covers his mouth with a swift hand. the three of them scramble to duck behind the bush just as you turn to glance in their direction.

(“is that… senior kaveh?” you squint your eyes, “cyno, and tighnari?” 

alhaitham clears his throat before glancing over at his friends with a deadpan expression. “yes and unfortunately, they’re very invested in my personal life. so please don’t mind them."

you laugh, finding the whole situation a bit too amusing. “not in the slightest, but i’m sure they’ll never let you hear the end of it.”)

EPILOGUE: IN EVERY LANGUAGE, I HEAR LOVE YOU.

“how long?”

you blink, feigning confusion. “how long what?”

alhaitham’s eyes narrow slightly, an expression you know well. “how long have you understood everything i’ve been saying?”

you bite back a smile and offer a small shrug, “...ever since you started?” 

his lips press into a thin line, and for a moment, you can’t tell if he’s upset or impressed. then, he sighs, almost amused. “and you let me embarrass myself all this time?”

“you were being honest,” you shrug, a smirk forming. “plus i knew you’d figure it out eventually.”

he huffs a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “may ideya ka ba kung ano ginawa mo?"

do you have any idea what you’ve done?

"mas lalong umibig sakin?"

made you fall in love with me even more?

you tease, but there’s a tenderness in your voice that softens the edge of your words.

“yes, and you really are insufferable,” he mutters with no malice. his tone is different now. softer. warmer, even.

you lean in slightly, a playful glint in your eyes. “that’s not what i heard you say before.” your fingers graze the skin of his cheek before you tenderly pinch it, giggling softly at the reaction you provoked.

in one smooth motion, he catches your hand before you can pull away and tugs you towards him, closing the distance between you in a heartbeat. you tilt your head back to meet alhaitham’s gaze.

you’ve often thought he’s the most-perfect boyfriend, undeniably handsome in every way —but there’s really just one flaw: his height.

“ugh, you’re too tall," you grumble, rubbing the back of your neck. "i’m having a neck sore just looking at you."

he quirks an eyebrow at your sudden words. “you could use a stepstool.” 

"or," you counter, "you could get on your knees and save me the trouble.”

he slowly lets out a breath, his lips curling ever so slightly. 

“'akida, 'antaziri hataa 'ashtari alkhatama.”

sure, just wait till i buy the ring.

"wh—" 

he crosses his arms, "what’s wrong? isn’t that what people expect when someone gets on their knees?"

you roll your eyes, half-smiling. "fine, then i’ll eagerly wait for that day.”

his gaze softens as his hand reaches up, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face; his eyes drop to your lips for a moment, and you know what’s coming even before he speaks.

this fic was not sponsored by duolingo, but with the help of my beloved friends!! wouldn't have been possible w/o em please give them a round of applause xx

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ty @mitsvriii for proofreading, love u all <3

and thank you for reading!! reblogs are appreciated ^^

pspspss check out the cool fanart / comic based on this fic here by @rei-plswork 🤍

MASTERLIST.

[reasonsforhope]

"England is celebrating the first pair of beaver kits born in the country since they were reintroduced back into the country’s north last year.

Landscape managers in England are beside themselves with surprise over the changes brought about by a single year of beaver residency at the Wallington Estate in Northumberland—with dams, mudflats, and ponds just appearing out of nowhere across the landscape.

Released into a 25-acre habitat on the estate last year, the four beavers at Wallington are part of a series of beaver returns that took place across the UK starting in 2021 in Dorset. Last year, GNN reported that Hasel and Chompy were released into the 925-acre Ewhurst Estate in Hampshire in January 2023, and the beavers that have now reproduced established their home in Wallington in July.

“Beavers are changing the landscape all the time, you don’t really know what is coming next and that probably freaks some people out,” said Paul Hewitt, the countryside manager for the trust at Wallington. “They are basically river anarchists.”

“This time last year I don’t think I fully knew what beavers did. Now I understand a lot more and it is a massive lightbulb moment. It is such a magical animal in terms of what it does.”

It’s believed that the only animal which alters the natural environment to the same extent as humans is the beaver. Their constant felling of trees to construct dams causes creeks to build up into pools that spill out during rainfall across the land, cutting numerous other small channels into the soil that distribute water in multiple directions.

Hewitt says that in Wallington this has translated to a frantic return of glorious wildlife like kingfishers, herons, and bats.

Recently the mature pair of beavers mated and produced a kit, though its sex is not yet known because beavers don’t have external genitalia.

These beaver reintroductions have led to a raft of beaver sightings around the country. Those at the National Trust working to rewild the beaver back into Great Britain hope the recovery of the landscape will convince authorities to permit further reintroductions to bigger areas."

-via Good News Network, July 16, 2024

[sbcdh]

“Oh gosh the fire. Yes it was truly a tragedy. You know, HECA79 was the prototype for the new regulation model. Well, haha, new for the time. It was the seventies after all. It really is fascinating. She was the first one we put in the class N tanks. Fascinating technology for the time, clever as the dickens. You see, the insides of the tank were to be lined with a thin layer of magnetically laminated gold calcite particles that formed a reflective lattice under electrical stimulation. A gold plated one-way mirror for brainwaves! I’m sure you understand, it was the best we could do for 1983-”

“So you subscribe to the, uh, equipment malfunction theory?”

“Huh? Oh! Oh. Terribly sorry. Equipment malfunction? As I recall, it functioned quite well.”

“So you believe the fire was caused by something else?”

“The fire? Oh. Well, I’m not quite sure. I don’t know the exact specifications, but if I recall correctly, there were all sorts of firebreaks and engineers and junior-engineers stationed all around –all helmeted, mind you– to make sure that sort of thing never happened.”

“And yet.”

“And yet. Indeed…Well, between you and me, I think It was one of the junior engineers.”

“Is that so?”

“Oh yes. We were a bit of a maverick bunch back then. Reagan gave us all that research money, but, well, its always a bit different when the wheels hit the pavement haha. Oh. Oh. I hope I haven’t gotten anyone in trouble. They were nice lads all. Well, some of them were Germans, but nice lads.”

“We are more interested in your observations of HECA79. I was told you were able to directly observe her during the incident. If there is anything you can tell us, please, speak loudly enough for the tape to hear.”

“Oh! Oh gosh. You know, I completely forgot we were being taped haha! And you caught all of my rambling! Well, I think I can help you out. Oh yes. Now. You must understand. A good half of this is going to be embellished. You know how memories go, you always get more heroic looking back as time goes on haha. But yes, I think I can help you out. Ah, where should I start?”

“What was the first thing out of the ordinary that you noticed?”

“Her lips were moving.”

“Is that out of the ordinary?”

“By gosh for a plutophant yes! At full emmanation, there is no part of them that is not the market! Every neuron soaked in hypno-amphetamine rocket fuel! Most of them –if you’ll pardon my language sir– shit their tanks the moment their Id touches the sub-finantial background grid! What do you think half those tubes are for! A plutophant in full emmanation doesn’t have a braincell to spare to keep their sphincters closed, much less perform something as complex as speech!”

“I see. Could you make out what the asset was saying?”

“Oh no. No, I’m afraid not. I can’t read lips. Back in those days, they were hooked up to a helmet, and then the helmet read the delta-wave patterns, and then printed that on magnetic tape. That way, we could feed the tape to some lob-, ah translators, and have them interpret the feed.”

“When did her lips start to move? What time of day?”

“Funny thing, almost exactly at 12:03. I should have been off at lunch, but I was procrastinating. I had a crossword I was right on the edge of solving. It was one of those big words that goes all the way across the page. TIMEPIECE. I remember that clear as day.”

“Interesting. I have here that equipment registered the fire almost exactly seven minutes later.”

“Oh dear. Do you understand what that means sir?”

“No, please, enlighten me.”

“Is that a schematic of the N class tank you have there? Hand it over. Thank you sir. So. Back in 1983, we didn’t have any of the fancy digital equipment we have now. Well, we did, but not to the same degree. Most of our equipment was good old analogue. You see this module here? These weren’t part of our system. No, we were waiting on the replacements to show up.”

“And, what is that part?” 

“Think of it like the uh, ah yes, the carburetor in a car. It keeps everything balanced. Keeps the subjects metabolism steady so they don’t chew through the drugs too fast, keeps the tank at the ideal temperature for chemical reactions, without boiling the subject like a lobster haha. But the key is, it was completely mechanical. But at the end of the day, it's just a bunch of tubes full of fluid that move based on pressure differentials.”

“Which means?”

“Well, heat would throw it off.”

“Here, I think we have a schematic. Now, doctor, this is very important. I need you to explain to me exactly how the machine malfunctioned, and how it would affect HECA79.”

“Well technically, it wasn’t malfunctioning at all. It was functioning correctly, just under less-than-ideal circumstances. Oh, haha. Yes, haha, but thats not what you’re looking for haha. Yes. Well. What side did the fire hit it from? Do you know?”

“This one here.”

“Fascinating. Well. Then, the apparatus would have uh, hm. Oh dear.”

“Doctor.”

“It would have spiked the hypnostimulant feed, while introducing impurities.”

“Which means?”

“I- I haven’t the slightest idea. It would've been deadly, I can assure you that. But its as if…Its as if you had a car, coasting in neutral, downhill at terminal velocity, and then you switched gears to high gear, and then slammed the gas while spraying rocket fuel into the intake.”

“Could we ask you to write a full report on your speculation?”

“Frankly sir, I am as intrigued as you are. You would have to hold my wrists to keep me from writing on this. Fascinating.”

ENCLOSED: FINAL READOUT OF HECA79

"BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD BUY GOLD"[Phrase repeats over twenty thousand times.]

[seumyo]

another new year with bakugou katsuki.

One more hour ‘til the New Year.

“So,” you started, “we’re about to ring in another year. Guess I’m stuck with you again, huh?”

Bakugou paused from tidying up the scattered toys in your shared bedroom. The gears in his head need a moment to get to processing.

“Hah?”

“It’s just hitting me, you know? I’ve been putting up with you for how long now? Feels like forever.”

A scowl immediately made itself known in his lips, unsure if you’re joking or not. “The hell are you gettin’ at?”

You tapped your chin as though deep in thought. “Maybe it’s not too late to return you to your parents. They probably miss having you around, anyway.”

“You’re jokin’.”

Bakugou’s eyes blink dumbfoundedly.

“Does your parents have a no-return policy?”

His voice dropped to a grumble, and his brows furrowed. He finishes tidying up the toys and joins you on the bed, cuddling close to you (even if he doesn’t consider it cuddling, moreso invading your personal space—but you’re his wife, so he gets a pass).

“As if. You think you can just ship me off like I’m some Amazon package? No way in hell, dummy. You’re stuck with me.”

And I’ll gladly be stuck with you for eternity, he finds himself wanting to say but refrains from doing so.

“Stuck with you, huh? That’s a bold statement, Katsu. What if I do want to send you back?” You laughed softly.

Bakugou snaked his arms around you, pushing himself impossibly closer to the point where you could tease him for being too clingy, his lips tugging into a pout he’d never admit to. “You can’t. You said yes when I proposed. You walked down the aisle. You said ‘for better or worse.’ That’s on you.”

You smiled, combing your hands through his hair. It may appear all spiky and rigid, but you’ve learned that it’s actually fluffy and soft—definitely well taken care of.

“I don’t remember that part. I think you dragged me down the aisle, all grumpy and scowling.”

“I didn’t drag you anywhere. You were practically sprintin’ to get hitched to me.”

“Was I?”

“You were,” he scoffs, but it’s soft, as if thankful of the fact. “And now you’re mine forever. No refunds, no returns, no exchanges.”

The sound of your laugh is something that’ll never get old to him. He could play it on repeat and never choose to turn it off.

“Forever’s a long time, Katsu.”

“Forever’s not a long time when I get to spend it with you,” he says. It’s the truth, and he can never bring himself to lie to you. Not now, not ever.

Because if anything, Bakugou Katsuki loves with his whole heart, puts every piece of himself in the things he does and has done, and he’ll be damned if he ever lets you settle for anyone less.

“Spend it with the little brats, too.” Ah, your two daughters have him wrapped around their little fingers.

You rolled your eyes. “Confident, aren’t you?”

“Definitely.” He reached out and grabbed your hand, lacing your fingers together. He looks at you with this all too familiar look, as if asking for a simple thing.

“And don’t even joke about tryin’ to get rid of me. You’d be lost without me.”

“Oh, absolutely helpless,” you tease, indulging him with a soft, chaste kiss.

Bakugou snorts. “Whatever.”

“Forever, right?”

“Forever,” Bakugou said firmly, resting his forehead against yours. His voice dropped into a quieter, almost shy tone. “And don’t forget, you’re stuck with me, too. No way I’m lettin’ you go.”

Your heart melted a little at his rare softness, and you kissed his cheek. “Fine, Katsu. I’ll keep you. But only because the return policy’s expired.”

“You’re lucky I love you.”

“No, you’re lucky I love you,” you joked.

“Damn right I am,” he replied, choosing to enjoy this serene moment with you rather than bothering to watch the same old boring fireworks to celebrate the new year an hour later.

Your husband can recreate any fireworks shows any day, anyway.

SEUMYO © 2025, PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[dollishmehrayan]

# “WOULD YOU DO ANYTHING FOR ME?, BUY A BIG DIAMOND RING FOR ME?” ── .✦ ( how batboys act when they’re engaged w reader )

dollish note ౨ৎ: I lowkey crashed out over losing Americans on tiktok but this woke up to post on tumblr but hey, also can we talk about how trump used that as a pr stunt && thought we wouldn’t notice wtf like omgg the way many americans caught on, alsoo please leave some motivation for me because I just kinda lost motivation for this app after the tiktok thingy went down 🫠 tags: (batboys x engaged!reader)

© dollishmehrayan — ( all rights reserved to me. These works cannot be reposted, translated, or modified. Thank you for understanding dollies! )

DICK GRAYSON ── .✦

Over the moon and not afraid to show it. Dick tells everyone the second you say yes. Alfred? He knows. Random stranger in the grocery store? The metro security guy?, Yep, they know too. He’s got that goofy, lovestruck grin plastered on his face 24/7.

Wedding planning enthusiast. You thought you’d do most of the planning? Wrong. Dick’s fully invested, showing you Pinterest boards of venues, color schemes, and “Do you think Nightwing blue (dollish note: I think ‘#3366CC’ perhaps?) would be tacky for the napkins?”

Gets sappy at random times. You’ll catch him staring at you with a dreamy look, and when you ask why, he just shrugs. “I’m just thinking about how lucky I am.”, “Dick calm down you only proposed like 2 weeks ago.”

Brags to the Batfam constantly. “Guys, I’m going to be a husband! Can you believe it? Me! Richard Grayson!” Bruce pretends to be joyful a bit but he’s done hearing it for the 777x time but even he cracks a small smile when Dick won’t shut up about you.

Practices saying his vows in the mirror. You walked in on him once, and he was mortified. “Okay, but you didn’t hear the good part yet!”, “You literally finished the whole paper !!”

JASON TODD ── .✦

Acts like it’s not a big deal, but it’s huge for him. He’ll play it cool at first, saying something like, “It’s just a ring, babe.” But deep down, he’s nervous, excited, and trying not to let it show.

Keeps the engagement low-key. Jason’s not one for flashy announcements or grand gestures. He wants this to be something special between you two, not the whole world.

Protective x10. Now that you’re officially going to be his spouse, Jason is extra watchful. He’s already looking into ways to keep you safe and makes sure you’re never caught in the crossfire of his vigilante life.

Wants you to be 100% comfortable. He checks in with you constantly about the wedding plans. “We don’t have to do anything big, okay? Just say the word, and it’s done.” He’ll let you take the lead but secretly loves when you include him.

Teases you with the whole “fiancé” thing. “Hey, fiancée. Can you grab my coffee? Oh, did I mention you’re my fiancée now?” It’s his way of hiding how excited he really is.

TIM DRAKE ── .✦

Nervous wreck but totally in love. Tim overthinks everything after proposing. Did he pick the right ring? Did he say the right words? Is he even ready to be a husband? But every time he sees you smile, it calms him down.

Keeps it practical. Tim doesn’t want a huge engagement party or a grand wedding. He’s more focused on what your future together will look like your shared goals, finances, and making sure you’re both on the same page.

Researches marriage like it’s a mission. He has books on successful relationships, listens to podcasts, and even makes a checklist for wedding planning. You find it adorable when he starts using color coded spreadsheets.

Loves when you call him your fiancé. The first time you said it, he blushed so hard he had to look away. Now he’s low-key obsessed with hearing it. “You don’t have to keep calling me that… but don’t stop either.”

Gets emotional when he thinks about the future. You once caught him staring at the engagement ring on your finger, looking teary-eyed. When you asked what was wrong, he said, “I just can’t believe you’re actually mine.” (I would’ve smacked the shit out of him for that, I don’t do romance 🙄💪)

[marvelouslizzie]

Not Lonely Anymore

summary: You hear your roommate Bucky Barnes moan your name while masturbating and it changes everything between you two.

pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

word count: 3K

warnings: 18+, dry jumping (brief), unprotected sex, daddy kink, metal arm kink, choking, teasing, dirty talk, no mention of y/n.

A/N: Hello hello! I present you the last part of my Lonely Night series. I am so grateful for your interest in the first two parts. I tried to keep my motivation up and give these two perverts a satisfying ending. I hope you will enjoy it as much as I did. Your feedback would be much appreciated.

You don't have to read the first two parts to understand what's going on but if you want to, please check my blog/masterlist for A Lonely Night and Same Lonely Night.

Thank you so much @notafunkiller for beta-reading and editing. Daddy kink and choking is for you ✌️

All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission.

Read more tag starts after the second paragraph of the story.

You can’t take your eyes off Bucky while you're processing what has just happened. Your eyes roam around his face and bare chest before falling on his shorts. His erection is pressed against the waistband, carefully hidden away from you but the wetness forming on the fabric betrays Bucky’s intentions. You can’t contain your smile, but Bucky doesn’t see it. He’s too lost in his own thoughts, and when your eyes meet, you realize he is worried and embarrassed. He opens his mouth, wanting to say something in order to end this awkward silence, but you beat him to it.

“Did you just say my name?” It comes out so calm, you even surprise yourself.

You know he did. You heard it with your own ears loud and clear. That’s why you dropped your glass after all. But it was that shocking to you. That unbelievable! So you just want him to confirm it. To make it real and assure you that really happened. Maybe then you will be able to believe it.

“I- I can explain.” You notice the cold sweat forming on his forehead.

He seems like a scared kid who got caught doing something he shouldn’t do. And it’s probably because he thinks he might lose you. You would feel the same way if he was the one who caught you masturbating just an hour ago. God, that would be mortifying, but now that you are on the other side of the equation, all you feel is excitement.

The realization eventually sinks in: he wants you. He actually wants you. That gives you a level of confidence you never had before.

You take a step forward and close the distance. Your lips are on his before he can react. You wanted to do this for a long time, but you had been unsure if he would have wanted it or not. You have a clear answer now, so there’s no need to hold yourself back. It takes him a second to respond to you, but you don’t hesitate. You just keep kissing him and it wakes him up like he has been hibernating for a long time.

His hands wrap around your torso and he pulls you closer. His fingers are digging into your hips like he’s trying to convince himself this is real, and he tilts his head just enough to deepen the kiss. His tongue gently slides into your mouth and that makes you moan for the first time. His lips, his tongue… He tastes so sweet. You just can’t get enough of it. It makes you crave him even more, and you don’t know how that is even possible.

Suddenly you push him, hoping to get him back inside his bedroom, but he doesn’t move an inch. He just gives you a dazed look, trying to understand why you did that.

“Work with me. Just move back.” You sound impatient, and he finally understands what you are trying to do.

“Fine.” He raises both of his hands like he’s surrendering, with a smile on his face, then he takes a step back and lets you push him further inside the room. You continue until the back of his knees hits the bed and he falls onto it after one final push.

“Is that what you wanted?” He sounds amused.

“Yeah.” You straddle him without missing a beat, getting comfortable on his lap while he pulls you in for another kiss.

This time it feels a little different. His hands are on your cheeks, holding you still while his tongue explores your mouth. It is the most passionate kiss you have ever had in your life. His erection is standing right there, between your legs and you can’t help yourself… You can’t stop that urge that’s slowly building up and why would you? You’re on his lap, finally doing this. There’s no need to stop yourself from doing what you want. So while he tastes you however he wants, you start to move your hips. After a couple of tries, you find the perfect spot and both of you moan nearly at the same.

He stops kissing you for a second just to take a breath, but he still holds your cheeks with his big hands and looks into your eyes. It’s like he’s afraid you might disappear. You have no plans of disappearing or stopping, though. You keep moving your hips and watching his eyes flutter every time you rub the right spot. It feels good even with the fabric between you two. Yet it’s not enough.

“We should get rid of your shorts.”

“And your panties.”

You raise yourself on your knees, just enough for him to push his shorts down, but you don't give him enough space to take them off completely.

“I don’t wanna use any protection. Do we have to?”

“Well, we don’t have to, but we might need to.” He’s not sure how fertile he is. It’s not like he tried it before, so it’s quite risky. All he knows is he has a lot more come than an average man and that’s a problem when it comes to using condoms. They are practically useless.

“I’m on the pill.” You quickly clarify. You only asked the question to see if he was comfortable with the idea or not.

“Then we definitely don’t need to.” Oh, he’s definitely comfortable. The way he just said it is enough.

He grabs his cock while you pull your panties aside without wasting any time, and you lower yourself onto him while balancing yourself with one arm on his shoulder.

“That impatient?” He taunts you, but he chokes on his words as soon as he feels your wetness. The head of his cock rests between your folds while you answer him:

“Are you not?” You sound relatively normal. Then you keep talking while taking him inch by inch. “Would you rather fuck your fist and fantasize about me?”

He wants to answer you. He wants to say something, but being balls deep inside you makes it harder to do so. He just lets out a low groan while grabbing your ass to ground himself.

You’re not so different from him. The way he stretches you pulls a pornographic moan out of you. You sit still for a second, trying to get used to this feeling. You can’t remember the last time you felt this full. It makes you shiver even without moving. You take your time and he just waits, patiently until you get used to the sensation. After a couple of seconds, you feel confident enough to move.

“Ready?”

“Yes.” There’s a bit of hesitation in his voice, but you don’t notice it because you are lost in the feeling of finally being so full. All of your senses are overwhelmed by it.

You aren’t sure if it’s going to hurt because he’s definitely the biggest you have ever had. So you move your hips slowly and test the waters. There’s something there. Some kind of discomfort. You can’t say you feel uncomfortable, you just need to get used to his size. So you keep moving because there’s this promise of pleasure hidden behind that discomfort. You can nearly taste it and it keeps you going. While trying to figure out the best way to move, you don’t realize Bucky is watching you, carefully. He’s trying to read your expression and see if you are okay. He’s ready to take up the reins or just stop if that’s what you need. His hands gently roam your body, discovering little details about your skin. Like how many moles you actually have.

“No rush. Take your time.” He sounds more like himself, much more confident than before.

You moan because of his words. His voice is deeper and it makes your blood rush. You start to move a little faster and notice how the discomfort slowly fades away. He notices that, too while grabbing your tits with both of his hands. One is colder than the other, and the contrast is dizzying. You lean into him, just to feel him a little bit more, and his grip on your tits tightens.

“God, so fucking pretty!”

Before you can say anything, his mouth is on your right nipple. You feel his tongue flicking over and over again while his other hand rests on the other breast. Then he sucks your nipple into his mouth, letting his teeth graze over it. You grunt because of the mixed sensations. Just when you are about to protest, he lets out your nipple and moves on to the other one. He gives it the same treatment. A mix of licking, sucking, and biting until you can’t contain your movements. Your hips start to move so much faster, making both of you moan loudly.

“God, I wanted to do this for ages!” The words spill out from your lips without much of a thought.

“You did?” He doesn’t miss a beat.

“Yeah.” There’s no point in hiding it anymore, is there?

“Does this mean I am the daddy?”

His question catches you off guard, and you just freeze in the middle of the action.

“You… heard me.” It comes out more like a question rather than a statement.

“Why do you think I was masturbating?”

It takes you a couple of seconds to process what he's just said. He actually heard you. You never used his name, but it doesn’t change the fact that he witnessed something so private. Something you really wanted to hide from him, yet the idea of him hearing you also sets you on fire. Instead of submitting to the urge to get all shy, you decide to ask him what you actually want to know.

“You heard me and instead of making a move, you decided to fuck your fist?”

“What was I supposed to do? Knock on your door and ask if I can replace your dildo?”

“Yeah. Sounds great to me.” You keep moving your hips fast while talking. “Or maybe you are too shy to take what you really want.”

“Shy?” He blinks a couple of times.

“You don’t seem shy but maybe you are. Maybe you are a submissive little boy who wants to just lay here and take whatever I give you.”

You watch his expression change into something so different. It’s not particularly dark, but it feels like it. Before you can say anything else, he just flips you over. Your mouth falls open when your back touches the bed. Instinctively, you try to wrap your legs around his torso, but he doesn’t let you. Instead, he pushes your knees back to your chest.

“What are you doing?” Your amazement is evident in your voice.

“Taking what I really want.” It takes a lot of effort to hide your smile. You can’t believe your taunting worked that quickly. “Tell me if it gets too much and I will stop.”

“Oh, I doubt that.”

He waits for you to finish talking and then he starts to move. Your mouth falls open once again but this time, it’s not because you are surprised. It’s because you can’t believe how good it feels. It’s completely different than how it felt when you were on his lap. He reaches deeper inside you in this position, and his hands are still on your legs, pushing you further into the bed. You let out another sinful moan.

“Way better than I imagined.”

“Is it?” A smile lingers on his lips. “Feel free to be as loud as you want.”

“Do you want us to get kicked out of this apartment?” It takes every ounce of strength in you to form this sentence without stuttering. It’s so hard to talk like you aren’t getting railed.

“No, I just wanna hear you call me daddy.”

You can’t help but moan. Shit, he really heard everything. You feel so exposed, but somehow it doesn’t bother you. Is he actually into this? Who could’ve guessed?

“If you want that, you gotta work harder than this.”

“Ask for it.”

“Harder, please.” He waits for daddy to come out of your mouth, but it doesn’t. You really meant what you just said, he needs to earn it.

So that’s exactly what he does. He starts to pound you, just the way you fantasized. He manages to touch every part inside you and fills up in a way that makes you wanna cry. Your moans get louder with each thrust.

“Oh fuck! Oh fuck!” Your ears start to buzz. You can feel that your orgasm is close.

“Talk to me, doll.”

He wants to hear you, and you don’t feel like holding back anymore.

“I’m-I’m so close, Bucky.”

“What do you need?” His question is instant. You feel that he’s ready to do whatever you want.

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing.” You take a deep breath just to be able to keep talking. “Just keep going. Please…” Your voice comes out so pathetic, but you can’t brush off the urge to beg him. He would like that, wouldn’t he? You did it while masturbating and he got a hard-on just because of you. “Please, please, please.”

Your words make him groan like he is struggling to contain his excitement.

“I really need it, daddy, please…”

“Fuck, baby.” You feel him losing control. His thrusts are sloppier but he notices that, too. His metal arm moves on your chest and rests there. You don’t know if he’s trying to keep you still or ground himself. Then he looks directly into your eyes, trying to see if that makes you uncomfortable or not. It definitely doesn’t. Quite the opposite, you need his hand on your neck, and you gently grab his metal hand and move it on your neck without breaking eye contact. You watch his eyes widen with the realization.

“Are you sure?” You nod in response, but it’s not good enough for him. “Words, baby. I need actual words.”

“Please.”

That does it. His fingers tighten around your neck, pressing right against your veins, careful not to crush your windpipe.

“Yess.” Your head is thrown back. This is exactly what you wanted.

The way he’s choking you snaps something inside you. It intensifies everything you are feeling at that moment. Your whole body suddenly starts to shake, and it surprises you. You have never reached an orgasm this quickly before.

“Yes, yes, yes. Oh god, yes!” Your voice comes out hoarser than usual.

“Look at you.” He taps his fingers on your neck while he keeps moving. “My pretty baby. So good for me.”

You only moan in response, already too lost in the waves of your orgasm. It’s running through your whole body like electricity.

“Look at me! Look into my eyes.” He sounds so commanding and you listen to him even though it’s so hard to do it. He looks like he’s about to lose it, too.

“Come with me. P-please.”

“You want me to come, baby?” He asks in a way that makes you wanna cry out even more. Like he won’t come if that’s what you want. He will keep holding back until you say so but you don’t want that. You want him to enjoy this as much as you do.

“Please, daddy. Come with me.” He groans in response. You clearly see how your words affect him, especially calling him daddy. You can’t believe how much he’s into it.

He stops holding back and starts to move in a way that makes you scream. So you do that. You can’t contain the noises you make when he moves like this. You grip on his sheets, letting him ruin you for any other man.

“Fuck! Such pretty sounds… You like it that much, baby?”

“Yes, yes. So good, daddy.” You slur at the last part. You don’t care. You don’t care about anything when he makes you feel like this.

“Fuck, you take me so well.” You can actually hear that he’s close. “I-I’m gonna come, oh fuck.”

“Yess!” You have been waiting for this. You want it so badly. You wanna see him come. You want him to feel good, all because of you. You want to witness a part of him that he hides away from everyone else. It feels like owning a part of him. So private and primitive, but you don’t care. You need this.

He lets out the most guttural moan right before starting to come inside you. He doesn’t stop, just keeps the same pace, emptying himself inside you.

“Take it, baby. Take it! It’s all yours.” You know what he’s talking about. His come is already dripping out, yet he’s not done coming.

It looks like he lost his damn mind, but it’s the hottest thing you have ever witnessed in your life. You are so fascinated by him even though you are still coming yourself. That's why you force yourself to keep your eyes open and watch him while your high slowly fades away. Yet he keeps going. His hands are gripping on your tights, pulling you into him every time he moves. His come is dripping on your ass, to the sheets. It’s so messy but feels out of this world.

After a couple more thrusts, he collapses on top of you. His head rests on the crook of your neck, and you feel his heavy breathing on your skin. You don’t mind it, though. He doesn’t let his whole weight crush you. Always so thoughtful….

Your hands go to his hair, gently stroking it. That makes him move his head and look at you.

“We should’ve done this before.” That makes you wanna laugh, but instead, you just give him a huge smile.

“Yes, we should have. It was amazing.”

Suddenly he moves away from you, leaving you completely empty. It makes you whine instantly. You miss the fullness and the warmth of his cock already.

“Where are you going?” You give him a confused look while raising yourself on the bed. “Come back here.”

“Not was.” He kneels right next to the bed, in between your legs, and moves his head closer to your dripping core. “I’m not done with you, baby.”