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sheerfreesia007 · 3 days ago

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Love Touched

Pairing: Jeongin x Reader

Word count: 2,254

Content warnings: Soft smut, MDNI, Fluff, insecurities

Summary: Jeongin wasn’t known for liking skinship and he’s always wondered if that bothers you since you’re dating him. One night at a party he gets his answer and decides to show you how grateful he is for you.

A/N: Divider was created by @enchanthings-a, thank you for sharing your dividers with tumblr!

The party is loud and chaotic as soon as the two of you walk into the large suite, Jeongin guides you into the suite with a steady hand resting on your lower back and you smile up at him over your shoulder. He had been invited to the party by Chaeryeong last week and had asked her if it would be alright to bring you as his date, which had earned him some well intentioned teasing from the woman which he had taken in stride but she had agreed that it would great to have you come as well. He had hoped to spend some time with you at the party just dancing and enjoying being with each other which he is excited to do. He grins down at you before hearing Changbin call out both of your names, turning his head to his hyung he feels your eyes following his movement before you turn to look at Changbin with a bright smile on your face.

”You guys were able to make it!” Changbin cried out as he walked over with Chaeryeong who was rolling her eyes at him scolding him for trying to be the host when that was her job. Jeongin watches as Chaeryeong excitedly embraces you in a tight hug before a loud squeal fills the air and soon the rest of the members of Itzy are embracing you in a welcoming hug. Lia turns to Jeongin with a soft smile and hopeful eyes as she wraps an arm around your shoulders.

“Innie, you don’t mind if we steal your girl for a little bit do you?” she asks sweetly and the rest of the girls all look at him hopefully. You frown softly from next to Lia and you begin to open your mouth to say something about it but Jeongin smiles widely at the girls before shaking his head.

“Of course not. As long as you bring her back to me later.” he says teasingly and your eyes connect with his worriedly but he smiles at you softly and shyly. “If you get bored you can always come find me.” he tells you and you smile brightly at him before reaching out and grabbing his hand gently and squeezing it quickly.

“As if she’d get bored of us.” Yuna gripes out and you laugh happily at your friends.

“You’d be surprised.” you tease her and Changbin bursts out laughing along with Jeongin as the girls pull you away from them arguing that you could never get bored of them and that it wasn’t allowed. Jeongin silently watches as you walk further into the party before Changbin nudges him gently with his shoulder.

“She’ll be fine with the girls. C’mon let’s go over to the boys. I think Seungmin is getting on Chan’s nerves and he’s about to blow up on our pup.” Changbin says knowingly and Jeongin grins while nodding his head at his hyung before darting his eyes in the direction that you had disappeared. He knew that his desire for spending time with you would have to wait, which was disappointing but he couldn’t monopolize your time. It had been a busy week this past week and he hadn’t been able to get his fill of you on his off hours but he knew he would have you for the rest of tonight even if you didn’t get a lot of time together at the party. But he figured he would be able to get more time with you later on, he was happy to give you time with your girlfriends if that meant you would wind up at his side later and he would be able to get at least one dance with you.

As he and Changbin moved through the party Jeongin started to notice a bunch of different couples wrapped up in each other and he wondered if you noticed them too while here. He knew that it had been a shock to you when you first started dating that he wasn’t a big fan of skinship and didn’t cuddle with you a lot of the time. But after dating you for almost a whole year he liked to think that he had softened up to you and enjoying being close to you when you were together and you hadn’t ever rushed or pressured him for more than what he was willing to give you which made him love you all the more and was grateful for your patience with him. As his eyes stayed glued to a couple where the guy had an arm wrapped low around his girlfriend’s waist and was pressing kisses into the skin of her neck lazily, Jeongin wondered if he’d ever be comfortable to do something like that out in public with you.

Just as he was silently slipping further into his head someone grabbed his arm causing him to frown softly at the person before turning his head to see Seungmin staring at him with wide eyes. Jeongin darted his eyes behind his best friend and saw Chan scowling at the younger man.

“You have to help me. Channie hyung is being unreasonable.” Seungmin pleaded and Jeongin chuckled at his best friend before nodding his head at him.

It’s an hour later and Jeongin looks around the party with a slight frown on his face, you hadn’t come to find him at all since you both arrived at the party and he was starting to feel upset by that fact. The boys are still hanging out together but Jeongin only wants to be with you right now. So standing from his seat on the couch next to Hyunjin, who whines softly at the disruption, he starts looking around the party to see if he could find you.

“Uh-oh, it looks like the Maknae wants to be with his girl now.” Felix teases softly and Jeongin scoffs at him as Jisung cries out loudly in an offended tone.

“Are we not good enough for you?!” he calls out and Jeongin looks at him with a disgusted look on his face.

“Of course you’re not.” Jeongin snips out, making the boys all laugh loudly as Jisung pouts at him. “I’ll be back.” he says over his shoulder before he starts walking through the party looking for you.It takes him a little bit of time to find you but he finally does in a corner of the suite with the members of Itzy. He’s standing behind the couch that you’re sitting on with Yuna and Chaeryeong chatting when he overhears Chaeryeong’s question to you.

“So is it hard to be dating someone who doesn’t like skinship as much as you?” Chaeryeong asks and Jeongin freezes as dread fills his stomach. He knows he shouldn’t be eavesdropping but there’s a curiosity deep within him that wants to know if you regret dating him because of this issue. He watches silently as you look over at Chaeryeong with a pensive look on your face for a brief moment before you tilt your head to the side and open your mouth to answer her.

“At first it was difficult because I’m used to having a decent amount of skinship between me and others. And when I started dating Innie he didn’t like it so that was hard.” you admit as your eyebrows furrow slightly and Jeongin feels a pit form in his stomach. He didn’t want to be difficult to date and would be devastated if you ever decided to break up with him over it, as a feeling of sorrow began to wash over him you surprised him and caught his attention by speaking up again. “But I love him and I’m willing to wait for however long it takes him to grow comfortable enough with me to like skinship. And since we’ve started dating he has grown more comfortable with me and does like cuddling when we’re together. It’s not very often but it does happen and I like to think that’s what makes it more special for me. It’s showing me that he cares for me more and more each time he does ask for hugs and cuddles.” you tell them and Jeongin feels the pit suddenly dissolve in his stomach and his heart thuds rapidly in his chest while his whole body melts at your confession. “He loves me in his own way and shows me that in other ways than touching.” you say with a soft adoring smile on your face. “I miss him. I’m going to go find him.” you tell the girls and suddenly stand from the couch as they whine and groan about you leaving them. You scoff softly at them with a soft smirk on your face. “I need to go find my boyfriend and give him a kiss.” you tell them dismissively before turning to walk past the couch. When you look up your eyes widen as they spot him and Jeongin steps forward grabbing onto your hand and dragging you away from your friends.

The two of you are silent as he weaves in and out of the crowd of people until he finds a small bathroom far from the middle of the suite. He pulls you in and closes the door behind you before he’s pressing you against it and crowding you in his arms. He grinds his hips up against yours as your back is pressed up against the door and you moan softly at his actions. His lips capture yours in a hot messy kiss that’s all hot wet tongue and teeth that nip at your pretty lips. Jeongin feels absolutely feral for you after your confession to the girls, he feels the all consuming need to show you that he loves you just as much as you love him and that he’s grateful for you and your patience with him.

Suddenly your leg shifts and your thigh grazes his crotch causing Jeongin to let out a wild cry against your mouth. One of his hands slides down the bathroom door where he had been pressing his hand into the wood to cage you in before hooking underneath your knee and hiking your leg up over his hip. With the new position he’s able to slot his body between your open thighs and you whimper into his mouth when you feel how hard he’s gotten for you. Your cute little skirt falls up towards your hips and Jeongin pulls away from your mouth to look down at your underwear and groans loudly as he sees that you’re wearing his favorite lacy soft green pair with all the lace flowers on it.

Consumed with his desire for you Jeongin quickly undoes his jeans just enough to slip himself out of them. The sigh of himself laying bare against your lace underwear nearly makes him cum but he manages to calm himself slightly before his fingers are slipping your panties to the side and he’s lining himself up with your entrance. He looks up at you and stares into your eyes feeling too far gone for any words, when he sees you nod at him as your hands pull him in for another heated kiss he groans into it while slipping inside of you.

His pace is frantic and oh so desperate as he bucks and thrusts against you. The feeling of your wet walls sucking him in is heaven to him and he knows he’ll never grow tired of the feeling. He’s panting into your open mouth as his orgasm begins to build and build within him. Your hands move to card through his messy hair and he stares into your eyes with a clouded wild gaze. He’s whining loudly as he continues to drive the two of you towards your highs.

Your head falls back against the door as you let out a delicious sultry moan after a particularly hard thrust from him and Jeongin starts to feel your walls clamping down on him. His eyes focus long enough on yours as you stare at him while resting your head and you quickly nod your head.

“I know Innie. I love you too baby. I can wait no matter how long.” you coo at him and Jeongin slams his hips up into you while whining loudly as his mouth hangs open. Your walls clamp down on him like a vice and Jeongin is lost to the pleasure of your body, his release filling you with delicious heat as he buries himself inside of you.

When he comes down from his high he slowly slips out of you and helps you clean yourself before righting your clothes. He stands in front of you still crowding you against the door as his eyes stare into yours imploringly. You cup his face and pull him in for a sweet soft loving kiss that he eagerly reciprocates with a hungry one of his own.

“I love you and I am so grateful and thankful for you.” he says softly to you and your eyes crinkle with delight and love as you beam up at him. He wraps his arms around you tightly burying his face in your neck and kissing the sweaty skin there before licking a wide stripe up to your ear which makes you squeal. “Can we go home now? I want to cuddle.” he asks you and you happily nod your head at him before leading him out of the bathroom to say goodbye to all of your friends.

SKZ Taglist: @kayleefriedchicken, @babigriin, @inlovewithstraykids, @channiesrightasscheek

#my writing #stray kids #skz #skz x reader #skz smut #yang jeongin x reader #jeongin x reader #yang jeongin #jeongin #i.n. x reader #i.n.

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callsign-rogueone · 2 days ago

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Going off your wingleader!Liam idea… Liam and reader are third-years and total couple goals. A first year comes in and starts flirting with reader every time he sees her. He doesn’t know she’s dating his wingleader. She’s polite but doesn’t mention Liam.

One day during training the new guy is watching reader and running his mouth about how hot she is, nudging other guys in his squad and making all kinds of remarks, even going so far as to make a comment to Liam. Liam just smirks, showing off those cute little dimples, as reader walks over and kisses him in front of everyone. New guy just stares in absolute shock (and horror when he realizes the woman he’s been objectifying is his wingleader’s girl.) Need a fic like this immediately 😭

I love this so much. I don't have the bandwidth to write this into a whole chapter but I DO have ideas. so here they are. (future Liz here… I got very carried away. but it’s Liam, so it’s fine.)

this guy clearly thinks he's hot shit. not even bonded yet, but his ego is bigger than Tairn's. so of course he goes after you, a third year with a leadership position at the top of your class. (because Liam's girl is as perfect as him.)

at this point you're used to these boys coming in and trying to flex on everyone. so you know how to brush it off. it's so routine that you don't even mention it to Liam, because you've got more important things to do / discuss.

anyway.

a couple weeks go by of the same thing, until one day, mister confidence is just in the wrong place at the wrong time. running his mouth without realizing who's around him, watching you demonstrate something and making comments to his friends instead of paying attention. Liam's about to elbow him and tell him to shut up, and then he realizes that they're talking about you.

immediately, he's upset — he's just itching to tell this guy off, both for talking when he's supposed to be listening to directions that could save his life, and also for saying those things about you, making comments on your body and how much he wants to... you know what I’m getting at here. anyway.

you can see Liam standing at the back of the gym, can see the visible frustration on his face and the way his jaw is clenched, his shoulders tight and tense... and you know it's hard to upset our sunshine boy, so something bad must have happened.

you wrap up the demonstration, get the youngins paired up to work, and then you slip away to Liam and give him a little kiss, because that’s your default greeting, that’s just automatic at this point when you see him, and take his hand and ask what’s wrong.

and then all the stress and tension just fades out of him, and he gives you a genuine smile, pulls you closer and holds you in a way that makes it clear that you’re a couple.

normally he isn’t one for PDA, so you’re a little surprised, but you don’t question it at all, just happy to cuddle up with him, resting your head on his shoulder and taking a moment to relax — his presence is always so soothing, and you don’t get moments like this very often in your very busy days as a wingleader and a section leader.

you don’t even notice the boy’s slack-jawed look as he realizes that you have a boyfriend. you’re too busy appreciating the moment you get to spend with Liam — but over your shoulder, he’s definitely smirking at the kid, like… get fucked, she’s mine. not that our boy would ever say that. he’s just thinking it really hard.

he gets a little pouty once you're behind closed doors, though, and tells you about it.

you laugh, and remind him that the first year boys can look all they want, but he's the only one who can touch, and if they do, they're going to get their nose broken. and that he's the only one who can set foot in your room, because you absolutely warded them like Xaden and Violet's.

that pacifies him, but he’s still thinking about it for the rest of the day.

he doesn’t consider himself particularly possessive, but he realizes that he just wants people to know that you’re his — or more so that you’re together and in love, and you’re it for each other.

the pair of you have always been focused on the present, the incredibly stressful lives that you lead here at this death trap of a school. but now he starts really thinking about the future.

you’ll be graduating soon, a pair of lieutenants headed off… somewhere. he hasn’t decided yet. he’ll get his choice, being a wingleader. but what about you? section leaders aren’t promised anything. there’s only one other way to guarantee that you’ll stay together… and damn, does he like the idea of you having matching name patches on your flight jackets.

but you deserve a real proposal, a romantic one, not something rushed, decided out of practicality. and when is too soon in your relationship to talk about that? you’ve been together since your threshing, but it feels like a lot longer than that — everything you’ve endured has brought you closer, he supposes.

you curl further into his side with a sleepy hum. “what’s on your mind?”

he’s about to tell you it’s nothing, but you know him better than that. “you have that look on your face,” you mumble, your eyes still closed. “know you’re thinkin' about something.”

“about you," he answers honestly, lifting the arm you have slung around his waist and finding your hand, taking it in his. it fits perfectly, your skin smooth against the callouses and scars decorating his hands from years of making his carvings. a dangerous hobby, you’d joked. you have a point. he’s amassed more tiny injuries from his own knives than from anything Basgiath has put him through. “about us.”

“yeah?”

“yeah,” he answers, his thumb brushing over your ring finger, where a wedding band would go. “about the future.”

“two kids and a cat,” you murmur. “and trips to Morraine in the summer. rent a little house on the lake for a week or two, and just lay around.”

“sounds perfect.”

you just hum in reply, too tired to keep talking. Liam presses a kiss to your forehead, pulling the covers a little higher. “I love you.”

“Love y’too.”

#liam mairi x reader #wingleader!liam #liam lives au #liz.txt #answered #fourth wing x reader #fourth wing

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happypopcornprincess · 3 days ago

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Chapter 1 || I Can See You

Pairings - Joaquin Torres X fem!Reader

Premise - At a glamorous gala, Y/N's life intertwines with Joaquin's. A pact ensues, while a dangerous mission looms.

Word Count - 4.5K

Warnings: SMUT, Angst, Mentions of blood, domestic violence

a/n - This story is based between the events of Endgame and Brave New World. In this AU, Tony Stark survived and the New characters of the MCU are on the way to be the new recruits of the Avengers. Hope you guys like this <3

Series Masterlist

Avengers Compound, Post Endgame

If it wasn’t for Pepper to quite literally threaten you to attend her Annual Charity Gala, you wouldn’t even be here. The atmosphere around you was straight out of some high society drama. The grey walls of the newly reconstructed avengers compound were covered in silver tones, a huge silver chandelier hanging in the middle of the hall, there was laughter in the air, and everyone was dressed to the nines.

Just how a party was supposed to be… when the host was the one and only Pepper Potts. Tony was there too, even though his hand was still recovering from the snap, but he was cheery and loud as always.

You sipped your champagne in silence, standing far away from the dance floor.

You were chosen by Sam from MIT to help the Avengers. You had trained with the new recruits, Kate, Peter… They were good kids. Training with them was… well, it was something. Sam was great, and helped you all adjust. Honestly, the Avengers? They were intimidating. superhuman intimidating. But you had your strengths. Sharpshooting was always your thing. And you threw yourself into the training, every single bit of it. They told you it was for intel missions, to keep you out of direct harm's way. But that wasn't enough. You wanted more. Because you were not aiming for 'safe.'

You were aiming to be an Avenger.

Your job was to figure out how Kingpin just vanished into thin air after Christmas. The task has taken over your daily routine after you met Kate Bishop. It’s been months of interviewing eyewitnesses, going on the streets undercover, nights of no sleep with a shit ton of coffee, and just when you think you’re about to solve it… you meet a dead end.

“Trying to hide behind the curtains again are we y/n?” Bucky’s voice made you look to your right, and there he was. Standing next to you wearing a sharp three-piece black suit, his hair slicked back.

You finally understood what Steve meant when he would say girls back then would throw themselves at Bucky.

He turned to you in disgust, “Are you checking me out?”

“You wish, asshole.” You mutter in your glass.

You and Bucky had developed an unlikely friendship after the blip bought him back. He was pardoned, and moved into a quaint apartment complex deep in the city, unknown to the fact that you lived right next to his place.

On a stormy night after the nightmares won’t let you both sleep, sharing one bottle of whiskey between you was all it took for you to spill your life to him. You have turned into each other’s best friends and occasional love life advisor, although it was kind of a package deal.

Which is why you knew the reason he was so dressed up for the first time since you met.

“You see Sam anywhere?” he asks you nonchalantly.

You give him a sly smirk, “Why? Can’t wait to shove your tongue down his throat?”

Bucky gives you a sideward glance, and goes back to looking at the crowd.

He was still figuring out his feelings towards both men and women, especially towards one man.

Returning from the Flag Smashers situation, he would not shut up how ‘annoying’ and ‘frustratingly righteous’ Sam Wilson is, how his smirk makes him want to ‘strangle’ him.

You asked him one evening if he was having a ‘full-on-bi-panic’ and he threw a pillow at your face.

“y/n! there you are!” Sam bellows as he walks towards the two of you, wearing a crisp grey suit over a white button up, looking as dapper as always.

“Sam!” you laugh, giving him a tight hug. He was your mentor, someone you looked up to. And hopefully your bestie’s future boyfriend.

“You look absolutely gorgeous!” he threw you one of his classic smiles as he retreated.

You look down to the pastel pink knee length dress you were wearing.

Hustling the life of an avenger straight out of MIT, it was the only dress you owned. And after paying for it out of your own pocket you realize fancy dresses cost a hand and a leg, and you refuse to part from it.

“Thank you Sam I-” you were about to thank him but stopped once you noticed him absolutely gawking at Bucky.

“Hey Bucky.” He smiled.

“Hey Sam.” Bucky gave him a nod.

You almost roll your eyes at the exchange, wondering when they will move on from the weird talking phase.

“Hello.”

An angelic voice interrupted your train of thoughts. Looking away your eyes meet a pair of the warmest brown eyes. He was standing behind Sam. A tall, tan-skinned man, wearing a crisp black suit stood in front of you. His curls fell on his forehead, and his smile was intoxicating.

He looked like a high surf tide; calling out for you to test the waters.

You extend your right hand, smiling at him. “Hey, I’m y/n”

He held it with his right, it made your heart race when he brought your hand up to his lips and kissed your knuckles, his hands warm and his lips soft, sending a jolt through your body.

Oh, he’s mischief alright!

You were left speechless when he straightened, a smirk thrown out your way as Sam spoke up, “This is the guy I told y’all about! Lt. Joaquin Torres.” He slapped a hand on Joaquin’s back, smiling with pride.

“And this is y/n y/l/n, fresh transfer from MIT. She’s our tech genius, and a walking journal on film recommendations.”

Laughter followed as your eyes couldn’t help but stay trained on Joaquin. Thinking back on the time when Sam told the team about the new Falcon joining them after a while, you somehow manage to speak up at that moment, “Welcome to the circus.” You take a deliberately long sip of your float, never breaking eye contact.

He gulped nervously, eyes wide, clearly startled by you flirting.

“You haven’t had a drink yet Lieutenant? Let’s get you something.” you smile involuntarily.

He stands back for you to lead the way, “Sure. And it’s just Joaquin, please.” he laughs just after, his honey laced voice paired with your tad bit hazy mind doing wonders to your imagination.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/--/-

They keep watchful eyes on us So it's best that we move fast and keep quiet You won't believe half the things I see inside my head Wait 'til you see half the things that haven’t happened yet

“Wait a minute…” you smiled, “you cannot possibly think Love Actually is better than The Holiday?”

“It’s the perfect rom com!” Joaquin laughs, “it covered basically every rom com trope under the sun.”

“But, listen to me, but…” you say, your slightly tipsy self leaning on the wall behind you, as Joaquin stood in front of you, holding his own glass of whiskey, “Quantity never matters in front of quality. All characters in The Holiday are well written with meaningful backgrounds and great character redemption arcs. And it’s got Jude Law.”

Joaquin raises his hands, “Jude Law.”

“Jude Law.” you laugh, at how he was mocking a defeated pose.

“When Sam told me I can’t lose a movie debate with you, I couldn’t believe him.”

You try to curtsey, “thank you.”

“Wanna get out of here?” Joaquin blurted out abruptly.

It took you a while to gain your consciousness, and a laugh left your lips at what he just said. You saw his eyes traveling to your lips, and how his breath fastened as you took a deliberately long sip of your drink.

You smirked, “sure.”

—/—/—

You find yourself sneaking through the backdoor and upstairs towards the living quarters of the Avengers compound as you drag Joaquin by his coat as you slip into an unassigned room. The furniture was still uncovered, but there was a couch in a corner right next to the opened windows where moonlight pooled in.

Perfect.

The alcohol surging through your system gives you newfound courage, and seconds later Joaquin was being thrown on the couch by you. His pupils dilated, his gaze trained on you and his scent lingering in the air, you straddled him without hesitation.

“Are you good?” His breathy voice went straight to your core, and without a word you crashed your lips on his.

He’s gonna be the death of me.

The taste of expensive champagne hit your mouth, Joaquin’s tongue slipping in your mouth sliding in with fervor. Your gasp is swallowed by his lips, his hands travelling south towards the zipper of your dress.

Your hands fumble with his coat, taking it off of him and raising his shirt just enough to slide your hands underneath. Warm, toned muscles met your hands, and the way he sucked your lips made you forget everything. You couldn’t breathe, but couldn’t move away from him either, entirely lost in taking him in.

Joaquin jerked back all of a sudden, making you whine.

“Wait, wait…” He breathed out, his breath cooling your skin.

“Just kiss me.” You exhaled, grabbing his tie to pull him in, but he leaned back.

Joaquin gently held your wrists, “y/n… hey, look at me,” he breathlessly said, “look at me for a second.”

You do, at his messy hair, puffy lips, and blown out pupils.

He holds out his hand, “how many fingers am I holding up.”

You scrunch your brows in confusion, eyes drifting to his fingers in front of your face. You get the tunnel vision every time you’ve had a bit too much whiskey, you see double.

Concentrating hard on your answer, you slur out, “four?”

Joaquin closes his eyes, looking up and huffing out a breath, “you’re very drunk.” You feel his hands on your waist, and he carefully sits you down on the couch next to him.

You whine at the loss of his touch as he gets up from the couch. He returns a minute later with a bottle of water, sitting next to you and making you drink the entire thing.

“Can we go back to the part where you kiss me until I forget my name?” you breathe out.

Joaquin laughs out, settling down next to you and leaning back on the couch. You straighten your dress, and sit with your shoulders touching. You steal a glance his way.

His coat was gone, his tie hung loose on his neck, his white button shirt straining on his arms…

Someone works out…

The faint moonlight hitting from behind him made the outline of the veins on his neck visible.

I want to lick it...

You scrunch your eyes as soon as you hear that inside your head.

Wow, he’s right, I am drunk.

“As much as I’d like to do that,” he looks your way, “I can’t. You’re very drunk.”

A smile itches on your face, and you ask, “so what should we do then?”

“Talk?” he suggests, turning to you, resting his head on the backrest and looking you right in your eyes. “I know nothing about you. You know nothing about me. Let’s talk.”

You laugh out loud, “okay,” the smile refusing to leave your face, “what do you want to know?”

“Anything.” he says with a warm smile on his face.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-

You wake up in an unfamiliar room and a blinding headache, on a mattress too soft for your liking, the sunlight hitting your face with full force.

Grunting, you sit up, rubbing your forehead.

Something slips off your body, and you look down and find someone has covered you with a black suit coat while you slept.

The man with the warm eyes and gentle touch.

You laugh, rubbing your head at the absurdity of the situation.

You wear it over your dress and walk out of the room, after last night’s party everybody would be sleeping in. You can sneak out unnoticed.

You swiftly call an uber, and shove your hands inside the pockets of Joaquin’s coat.

The feel of rough paper makes you stop in your tracks, you take it out of the pocket to see a torn piece of labeling paper inside, a note greeting you.

9546-555-6783 See you soon, I guess? (Take care of my coat till then? It’s my favorite suit.) - Joaquin

-/-/-/-/-/-

You brush past me in the hallway And you don't think I, I, I can see ya, do ya? I’ve been watchin' you for ages And I spend my time tryin' not to feel it

Joaquin joined the team a week later. He chose to stay on the compound, and soon blended in with the new avengers. Peter and Kate grew especially fond of him. When Shang-Chi joined the ranks, he, too, was welcomed into your close-knit circle.

You spared during training, made breakfast together, had constant debates on cinema and stories. He loved the classics, and you had a nick for science fiction. You should have cancelled out each other, but your differences only made your bond stronger. The differences weren't a barrier; they were a bridge. You shared tech skills learned during your time at MIT, revealing the details of coding and circuits. In return, he shared practical knowledge from his air force background; survival techniques and tactical strategies.

Your apartment, though smaller than the compound's common areas, became the gathering spot for your group. Lazy weekends of your teams were spent at your place, you'd watch old movies, host game nights, and then collapse on any available surface.

Peter had a habit of entering your apartment through your window, and Kate never got used to it. Takeout was a foreign concept with your friends. Instead, Shang-Chi and Joaquin would take over the kitchen, making a mouth watering combination of asian food and mexican food, that could best possibly win them masterchef if they ever could.

These people, this band of young individuals navigating life… they became your chosen family. They were your support system, your confidantes, your partners in crime.

No one seemed to notice the stolen glances, the lingering touches, the quiet conversations that stretched late into the night. Or perhaps they did notice, and simply didn't care.

-/-/-/-/-/-

But what would you do if I went to touch you now? What would you do if they never found us out? What would you do if we never made a sound?

Clouds grumbled above, as angry raindrops splattered on your apartment window. You were sitting on your couch with three devices settled in front of you: a laptop and two tablets running algorithms and analytics for locating kingpin. Kate had gathered intel that he still had someone in the states giving him updates and keeping him safe. But where?

That was a question you were determined to get answers to. Which is why you had made it your mission to get to the base of this.

Amidst the thunderous rain outside, you hear a knock on the door, and from the corner of your eye you witness Joaquin enter, carrying takeout containers.

“You’ll have to use the fork for the noodles, I just ran out of chopsticks!” you shout, without even looking at his direction.

“Y/n” Joaquin huffed out in frustration, “please tell me you didn’t ‘sense’ Thai food from me.”

“I did.” you laugh, looking at the bewildered Joaquin standing in your kitchen. He had jeans and a sleeveless gym shirt on. Involuntarily your eyes went to his toned arms, and you did a quick diversion of your thoughts to the TV.

”I come bearing sustenance. Chow Mein and Thai green curry, extra spicy, just how you like it.” he says, followed by the scrunching of the takeout container.

You sit up straighter with a smile itching on your lips, your favorite food just when you were low on inspiration. “You're a lifesaver, these logistics are killing me.”

Joaquin sets the containers on the coffee table. He sits next to you, close enough that your thighs brush. He huffs out, “Tell me about it. Sam's been drilling us on contingency plans all day. I swear, he's got a backup plan for the backup plan.”

You laugh, “That's Sam for you. Always prepared.”

You open the containers, the aroma of the curry filling the room, and digging into the food in comfortable silence for a few minutes.

“You got something on your…” Joaquin speaks, and you look at him with a particularly big bite in your mouth.

“Hmm?” you mutter.”

He reaches out and gently wipes a bit of sauce from the corner of your mouth. The gesture is intimate, lingering a moment too long. If you don’t count your sparring training, this was the closest you had been since ‘that’ night at the charity gala. Your hands grab his arm on their own.

It feels… good. Too good. It's been so long since anyone touched you like this. Desired you. Like you mattered. Like you weren't just… a disappointment. You… you want this. You want him.

But what if you mess it up? What if you push him away, like you did with…

Your heart almost leapt out of your chest as he gently cupped your face in his hands, your gaze locked on his warm brown eyes. He leaned in towards your lips, a silent question in his expression. You paused, a flicker of hesitation crossing your face, and gently pulled back.

He too leaned back, respecting your space. The tension remained, but now it carried a hint of gentle inquiry.

Looking down, you fidgeted with your hands, "It's not that I don't… I just… we need to be sure about this." You huffed out in frustration, trying to articulate your tangled thoughts.

"I want you," he stated, his voice low and sincere. You looked up at him instantly, his pupils dilated, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths. "I want you in ways you can't imagine, y/n. And I will walk out of here right now if you don't want this. We can forget this ever happened."

Thunder roared in the skies above, and lightning illuminated his face through the window as he paused, his expression open and honest. "But," he gulped, his eyes searching yours, "if you do want this… then…"

He left the rest unsaid, giving you the space to make your own choice.

Your internal conflict finally tipped towards action.

Oh, fuck this…

His words were lost as soon as you crashed your lips on his.

—/—/—

You stumbled into your room, Joaquin’s lips didn’t leave yours as he threw the two of you on the bed. Pulling you under him, his hands were everywhere. Your mind could only catch up with a few, as it was too busy taking in all of him.

Joaquin made you feel like your entire body was on fire. Your hands flew straight to his hair, a moan leaving his lips. You did quick work on his clothes, leaving him in his boxers as he got busy removing yours.

No words were exchanged as he moved low, kissing and sucking your skin in all the places that made your vision hazy. You could only whine and gasp as he grabbed your legs and rested them on his shoulders.

And then he stopped.

You look down to see a mischievous grin plastered on his face, his pupils blown wide.

“Joaquin…” you breathe out, “stop teasing me.”

His eyes darken as he let out a low murmur against your skin and without warning dived in, a loud moan leaving your lips as pleasure rushed through your body.

-/-/-/-/-/-/-

And I could see you being my addiction You can see me as a secret mission

“So… what is this?” you ask, lying next to him covered in sweat, panting. You rolled away next to him, completely exhausted from your acts that lasted three blissful hours.

“You’re asking this now?” he mutters, eyes fixed at the ceiling. “I’m pretty sure fraternizing between teammates is not allowed here.” He groans.

You close your eyes, trying to think about if that rule existed among the Avengers. As far as you knew nobody was involved with each other here. “We can be friends.” You suggest.

“What!” you feel the mattress shift and open your eyes to him leaning over you.

“No, just… think about it.” You shift to lean on the headboard, gathering the sheets to cover your chest, “you’re new to the team.”

Joaquin takes a pillow to cover himself and sits cross-legged in front of you, “okay.”

You stop for a second, staring at his abs.

Y/n stop it! Focus!

“We can’t just go ahead and announce that we’re sleeping together, or dating. They will never let us live this down. Especially Bucky. And Kate. Maybe Sam…” You state, matter of factly.

“Wait, wait! Stop!” he gestures, eyebrows scrunched, “You want to date me?”

“No! I don’t like you like that!” almost scream out, “do you wanna date me?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Then I don’t see a problem with… this!” You throw out your hands.

“What is this exactly?” Joaquin pointed between you two.

You groan, “ugh, you’re as thick as it gets!” You adjust the sheets around your body to free your hands, “what did you think of me the first time you saw me?”

“At the gala? Huh…” he thinks, “That you have the prettiest smile.” he shocks you with the last part, but then he adds on, “also you looked hot in that pink dress.”

There we go.

“Well, I thought you had a great voice, and your eyes were really pretty.” You truthfully admit, “also you looked like trouble… and I have a thing for bad boys.”

“I’m twenty-five.”

“Whatever.”

“You swear you don’t want anything other than sex with me?” he asks you.

You nod, “Yeah. You?”

“I don’t.”

“Okay.”

“Okay!”

Joaquin gets up from his place, picking up his boxers and putting them on, “So just to be clear… we’re friends.”

“Yep!” you catch your sweatshirt that he throws your way.

He puts on his shirt next, “With benefits.”

“Absolutely.” You say, debating whether you should get up the bed or not, exhaustion rolling over your senses.

“And you promise you won’t fall in love with me.” He points to you.

“Oh please, if anything you’ll be falling first.” You say through a yawn.

Joaquin laughs putting on his pants, “well, I’m gonna go get something to eat. You want something?”

“Do you mind if I take a nap? I’m tired.” You grimace.

He smiles at you, “Go ahead.”

You fall back on the bed, as you hear his footsteps going away… the sweet embrace of sleep following you next.

—/—/—

Few weeks later

Your place or mine?

Your screen lit up with the message from Joaquin. You smirked

Yours? In an hour? You press send, and let out a laugh as you see the blue tick instantly.

Done.

Before you could ask him the reason he got so worked up, you hear F.R.I.D.A.Y’s automated voice - Scan. Complete.

A low hum filled the operations center as you meticulously analyzed the fragmented data streams scanned by F.R.I.D.A.Y. Dozens of photographs presented infront of you but your eyes instantly locked in on one in particular. Your focus narrowed on a grainy image emerging from the static.

Broad shoulders, crisply pressed suit, gold rings on the fingers… could it be…

“Y/n!” Kate and Peter shout in unison as you slapped a stack of files on the kitchen table. Sam, Bucky, Shang Chi, Joaquin, all who were just about to eat, whipped their heads towards the commotion.

“I think I've found him,” you announced, pointing to the figure.

Sam and Bucky shared a look, and rushed towards you as you opened up a holographic display on your tab. Joaquin and you share a look, he was amused, a small smile on his face letting you know he was excited for what you found out, you smirked and quickly look away trying to focus on the scene infront of you.

“All this time I was searching for him here… but…” Cross-referencing facial recognition, thermal readings, and satellite data, you enlarged a section of the display, revealing a stark desert landscape. “The terrain, the temperature… it all points to one place... Mexico.”

A collective sense of surprise filled the room.

'Mexico?' Peter questioned, 'What's he doing down there?'

You zoomed in on a satellite image, enhanced thermal readings revealing a network of hidden structures. 'I don’t know, but he's planning something,' you stated, a sense of urgency creeping into your voice. 'Something big.' The implications hung heavy in the air.

“This changes everything.” You nodded, your gaze fixed on the display. 'We need to move fast.”

To Be Continued...

A/N - Thank you everyone for sticking with me till the end of this fic! if you liked it please let me know through the asks and the comments. Next Chapter will be up soon... Love y'all, Take Care!

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writeriguess · 3 days ago

Note

Kiribaku having kids (twins boy & girl) they start kindergarten and into the year they notice the kids are sadder when they come home they’re more quiet and in a certain day kiribaku and reader (secret girlfriend) are out on a date while the kids are at school and they get a call they need picked up asap cause something’s wrong so they all three go not thinking about it and the kids meet her Sav’s a few months go by and the kids finally say the issue was not having a mommy but now they have one

A Missing Piece

Kirishima and Bakugou had always known they wanted kids. It had been a long journey—filled with paperwork, home visits, and nervous waiting—but when they finally brought home their twins, Ren and Aiko, it was like their lives truly began.

They tackled fatherhood like they tackled everything else: with passion, dedication, and an unshakable love for their children. They weren’t perfect, but they always made sure Ren and Aiko knew they were safe, cherished, and cared for.

So when the twins started kindergarten, it was a huge milestone—not just for them, but for their dads.

The first few weeks were amazing. Every afternoon, the kids would come home brimming with stories, bouncing with excitement as they recounted every detail of their day. Bakugou and Kirishima would listen intently, grinning at their enthusiasm, feeling a sense of relief that their kids were adjusting so well.

But slowly, things started to change.

It was subtle at first. The twins weren’t as chatty when they got home. Their excitement dimmed, their energy lowered. They weren’t causing trouble like usual, weren’t filling the house with their infectious laughter.

Kirishima noticed it first, his sharp observation skills picking up on their quiet moods. He tried to bring it up to Bakugou, but at first, his husband brushed it off.

“They’re kids. They’ll have bad days.”

But then bad days turned into bad weeks.

And when Aiko, their usually fiery and opinionated daughter, pushed away her plate at dinner one night without saying a word, even Bakugou knew something was wrong.

That night, after tucking the twins into bed, Kirishima leaned against the kitchen counter with a deep frown. “Something’s up, man. They’re different.”

Bakugou exhaled heavily, rubbing the back of his neck. “Yeah… I see it too.”

“We should talk to them.”

“Tch. Like they’ll tell us anything,” Bakugou muttered, but the frustration in his voice wasn’t directed at the kids. He just hated feeling powerless.

They decided to give it a little more time, hoping the kids would open up when they were ready.

But weeks passed, and things didn’t improve.

Then the call came.

It was supposed to be a rare, peaceful day off.

Kirishima and Bakugou were on a date—something they hadn’t done in way too long. Between hero work and parenting, moments alone were hard to come by.

They were walking through the city with you—Bakugou’s secret girlfriend.

He hadn’t told the twins about you yet, not because he was ashamed, but because introducing someone into their lives was a big step. He and Kirishima had agreed that when the time was right, when things felt solid, they’d take that next step.

Right now, though, all three of you were enjoying a carefree day. You laughed at Bakugou’s usual grumbling and leaned into Kirishima’s easy warmth. It was comfortable, effortless.

And then Bakugou’s phone rang.

“Mr. Bakugou, we need you to come pick up Ren and Aiko immediately.”

His entire body tensed. “What? What happened?”

“They’re very upset. We think it’s best you come in.”

Kirishima and Bakugou didn’t waste a second. The date was forgotten as they rushed to the school, you tagging along without hesitation.

When they arrived, the twins were sitting together in a small, quiet room, curled into each other like two halves of the same soul. Their tiny hands were clenched, eyes downcast.

It hurt.

Kirishima stepped forward first, crouching beside them. “Hey, little ones.” His voice was soft, careful. “What’s going on?”

Ren sniffled but didn’t speak. Aiko peeked up at them, then hesitated when her eyes landed on you.

You stayed quiet, offering a small smile, not wanting to overwhelm them.

“They’re not talking much,” the teacher explained gently. “But we think something has been bothering them for a while. It might be best if they tell you.”

Bakugou crouched beside Kirishima, his red eyes soft with concern. “Come on, brats. Tell us what’s wrong.”

It took a moment, but then, in a tiny voice, Aiko whispered, “The other kids said it’s weird that we don’t have a mommy.”

Silence.

Kirishima and Bakugou exchanged a glance.

“They… what?” Bakugou’s voice was dangerously low, but Kirishima nudged him gently to keep him in check.

Ren wiped his nose on his sleeve. “They laughed at us when we said we have two dads.” His lower lip trembled. “They said all families are supposed to have a mommy and a daddy. And that maybe… maybe our mommy left ‘cause she didn’t love us.”

Kirishima felt something in his chest crack. He pulled the twins into a hug without hesitation. “Hey, don’t listen to that, okay? That’s not true. You are so, so loved.”

Aiko clutched at his shirt. “But we don’t have a mommy…”

A beat of silence passed.

And then Ren glanced at you again.

“But… do we now?”

You froze.

The question hung in the air like an unspoken wish.

Bakugou and Kirishima both looked at you, their expressions unreadable. It was a moment they hadn’t planned for, hadn’t expected—but maybe, just maybe, the kids had seen something they hadn’t fully realized yet.

Your heart clenched as you met the hopeful, tear-filled eyes of the twins.

You knelt in front of them, keeping your voice warm but careful. “Families come in all shapes, you know. But if… if you’d like, I’d love to be a part of yours.”

Ren hiccupped. “You would?”

Aiko’s eyes were wide.

You smiled, holding out your arms, giving them the choice.

It only took a second before they crashed into you, burying themselves in your warmth.

Kirishima swallowed hard, blinking rapidly. Bakugou turned away, rubbing at his face with a grumble, but his shaking shoulders gave him away.

The twins held onto you like a missing puzzle piece finally clicking into place.

“Yeah,” you whispered against their hair, holding them tight. “You do now.”

And just like that, their family became whole.

#mha x reader #bnha x reader #my hero academia x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki x reader #kirishima eijiro x reader #eijiro kirishima x reader #kirishima x reader #bakugo x reader #kiribaku x reader #krbk x reader #bakugo x reader x kirishima

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prythiansprincess · 2 days ago

Text

best friend's brother! tom finally gets you alone

NAVIGATION // home. tag. moodboard. more.

author's note: the demons...they're getting loud again. i'm actually so feral for possessive and obsessive tom. I fear I might make this my whole personality now.

obsession.

tom riddle was, in every sense of the word, obsessive. the fixation and compulsion he poured into the things he loved had always been a marker of his character. tom was not the type of person to casually partake in something; for the eldest riddle brother, the best things in life were worth being consumed by.

and he was.

utterly and irrevocably consumed by you.

y/n, mattheo’s sweet and innocent best friend. the one whose pretty eyes and lovely smile haunted his every waking moment. the one whose honeyed voice played in his head like a melody and enticed him like a siren’s song. the one whose gentle touch sent his heart racing until he felt as though the damned thing was going to burst out of his bloody chest.

you had no idea what you did to him, but you would soon enough because tom had a plan. for weeks, he had been plotting and scheming. trying to find the right time to finally get you all to himself.

fortunately for him, the opportunity arose one fateful evening when mattheo left his phone unattended in the living room. it was so easy, almost too easy, to guess his brother’s password and open up his most recent text thread with you.

mattheo: come over tonight?

tom watched as three dots appeared on the screen, indicating that you were currently typing a response.

y/n: will tom be there?

now that was interesting. perhaps you were asking because you wanted him to be there. wanted him as much as he wanted you.

mattheo: yes. why do you ask?

y/n: I just don't want to be a bother. I know tom likes to study on tuesdays and me coming over would probably disrupt that.

tom couldn’t help but smile. such a thoughtful, caring girl. he couldn’t wait to ruin you.

mattheo: tom will be fine. so, are you in or not? i'll grab your favorite snacks.

y/n: you had me at snacks.

half an hour later, you were standing in the doorway of the riddle home, dressed in one of those pretty little dresses that tom had imagined ripping off of your body a million times. as the door swung open, those innocent eyes widened at the sight of him. you flushed when tom met your gaze, a light pink hue dusting your cheeks.

"oh. hi, tom. um, is mattheo here? he asked me to come over."

tom casually leaned against the frame, giving you a once over that only deepened your flush. "my brother just stepped out, but he should be back soon."

"o—okay. he's probably out getting snacks."

tom watched as you lingered in the doorway, anxiously fidgeting with the hem of your dress. he thought it was adorable that you were still nervous around him after all this time. biting back a smile, tom opened the door to his home a little wider.

"are you coming in?"

“hm?” you asked absentmindedly. “oh. yeah. yes, i’m coming. not like that. I mean, obviously. shit. ignore me please.”

tom raised a brow, but said nothing as he barely gave you enough of a gap to squeeze through the door. he smirked to himself as you maneuvered your way inside, perky breasts brushing against his solid chest. tom could smell the sweet scent of your strawberry shampoo as you passed through. he wanted to drown himself in it. you timidly avoided his gaze, choosing instead to follow him into the kitchen in silence.

“would you like something to drink?”

you nodded. “yes, please, i’ll take a —”

before you could finish your sentence, tom handed you a cold can of vanilla cherry soda. your favorite. you thanked him with a shy smile before following him upstairs. instinctively, you turned in the direction of mattheo’s room, but tom gripped your wrist and kept you in place.

“you can wait in my room if you’d like. mattheo might be a while. he reeked of weed when he left."

you chuckled. “it does take matty forever to pick out snacks when he’s high.” you shifted your weight from one foot to the other before glancing up at tom through your lashes. “are you sure you don’t mind? I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“i’m sure,” tom confirmed. “I could use the company.”

with that, you followed tom into his room. unlike mattheo’s, tom’s room was neat and organized. everything was perfect and pristine, much like the man standing before you. tom busied himself by putting away the books and notes on his desk while you fiddled with your fingers, not quite knowing what to do with yourself.

“sit on the bed,” tom commanded. “make yourself comfortable.”

“okay.” you replied in a small, breathy voice.

carefully, you settled at the edge of his bed and crossed your legs. you drummed your fingers against your thigh, pondering how strange this situation was. in all your years of knowing tom, you had never once set foot in his room. at most, you caught glimpses of it when you passed by on your way to mattheo’s room.

everything was so foreign and interesting. that was the desk where tom does all his studying. that was the closet where he keeps all of his clothes. that was the night stand where he places his glasses on before he goes to sleep.

that was the bed that he laid in every night. your mind started to wander through all the things that tom had done in this bed. maybe by himself. maybe with someone else. the intrusive thoughts fired off one by one, leaving you flustered. does he soak the sheets when he gets himself off? does he tie his partners to the bed post when he eats them out? does he push their faces into the pillows as he rails them from behind?

you were so engrossed in your dirty and filthy fantasies that you nearly jumped out of your skin when tom rested a hand on your thigh.

“hm,” tom hummed. “you’re so jumpy, love.”

you held your breath as he leaned closer, his face mere inches away from yours. the tension between you ebbed before he carefully took the soda can in your hand and placed it neatly on his nightstand. tom smirked when he noticed the hitch in your breath at his close proximity.

“do I make you nervous, doll?”

“yes,” you answered truthfully. there was no point in lying. it was written all over your face. “you’re just so…intimidating.”

“am I?” tom drawled as he slid in beside you, scooting in closer until his thigh was pressed against yours. even through his neatly pressed trousers, you could still feel the heat of his skin on yours. “maybe we just need to get to know each other better.”

you bit your lip. “i’d like that, tom.”

“good,” tom drawled. “let’s start with why you think you’d be a bother to me. mattheo told me you were hesitant to come over earlier.”

you flushed as you stared at your shoes, the curtain of your hair shielding you from tom’s intense gaze. “I know you like your peace and quiet, which mattheo and I probably constantly interrupt. i’m sorry if we’re ever being annoying.”

“you don’t have to worry about that. you could never bother me,” tom stated in a silky, flirty voice. “the only thing I find annoying is that you’re always with my brother. I just can’t seem to get you alone, can I?”

you shivered as tom’s gaze flickered down to your lips. “well, we’re alone now.”

“indeed we are.” you held your breath as tom leaned in closer, the bed dipping under his weight. “you have no idea how long i’ve waited for this. just you and me, without my brother to interrupt. I think about it all the time.”

tom watched your pupils dilate, reacting to his admission. “what do you think about?”

“I think about all the things I’d do to you. I think about the way you’d feel, the way you’d sound. if you’d scream or moan or whimper for me.” you shuddered at the sinful confession, rubbing your thighs together as heat rushed to your core. tom’s green gaze felt like a brand against your skin as a predatory look flashed through his handsome face. “I suppose there’s only one way to find out.”

before you could react, tom’s mouth was on yours. the kiss was neither soft nor gentle, but instead hungry and possessive. the magnitude of his desire took you by surprise. you had always thought that tom viewed you as nothing more than mattheo’s pesky friend, the one that came over unannounced and wreaked havoc in his life, but apparently you couldn’t have been more wrong.

tom kissed you like a man starved. he poured all of himself into the action, tangling his fingers through your hair, yanking your head backwards so he could kiss you deeper. you could barely keep up with the way he was devouring you, his tongue dominating yours while you moaned softly into his mouth.

a gasp escaped your lips as tom picked you up and placed you on his lap. you were dizzy with desire as you straddled him, whimpering when tom bucked his hips against yours which caused his erection to rub against your soaked core. never in a million years would you have imagined tom to be this dirty and filthy as he grabbed and groped and gorged himself on you.

your breathy moans filled the room as tom slid his right hand underneath your dress and squeezed your thigh before palming you through your panties. you melted into his touch, moaning his name softly while he growled in response. as he slid the lace aside, tom kissed your neck and teased your slit with his fingers.

“you’re soaked, doll.” tom said with a dark chuckle. “do I make you wet, hm?”

“yes,” you breathed, eyes rolling back as tom spread your slick ever so slowly.

he seemed to take this as encouragement, taking his time teasing you, rubbing your clit and spreading your folds until you were reduced to nothing but a whimpering mess.

“tom, please…”

“so needy,” tom murmured. “what is it that you want, love?”

“I want…” you bit your lip as tom stroked your pussy. “I want your fingers. I want them inside of me. please, tom.”

“aw, doll, you sound so pretty when you beg,” tom cooed. “don’t worry, I couldn't resist you even if I tried.”

without warning, tom plunged his fingers into your pussy. you groaned at the stretch, face heating from how vulgar the scene unfolding before you truly was. tom watched with rapt attention as you squirmed and panted, drinking in every little moan and whimper like a fine wine. his fingers felt like magic as they curled and scissored and flicked inside your walls. the other hand that wasn’t playing with your pussy rested on your hip, gripping tightly as you grinded against tom.

“that’s it, doll. ride my fingers just like that.”

tom was mesmerized at the sight of you using him to get yourself off. mattheo’s sweet and innocent best friend was no longer sweet and innocent as tom fingered and ruined you like the perfect little slut that you were. his perfect little slut.

“are you going to be a good girl and cum for me?”

tears streamed down your cheeks as you rode tom’s fingers like your life depended on it. your mascara and lipstick were both smeared, but you didn’t care as you chased after your orgasm. you gave tom a weak nod, half out of your mind with pleasure.

tom gripped your chin and forced you to look at him. “answer me, doll.”

“y — yes. i’m going to…oh god, tom!” you writhed as tom rubbed your clit with the heel of his palm, pushing you over the edge.

the glimmer in your eyes right before you came unleashed something within tom. the flushed cheeks and fluttering lashes; the parted lips and strained scream, it was enough to drive him insane. he wanted to see you make that face over and over again.

“you look so pretty when you cum, doll.” tom murmured as he bit down on your neck, staking his claim on your skin. “you’re fucking exquisite.”

amusement danced in his gaze as you shied away from the attention, cheeks flushed from the praise. tom locked eyes with you before sticking his fingers in his mouth and licking them clean in the most obscene and erotic way you had ever witnessed.

“don’t get all shy now, love. it’s your cum i’m licking off my fingers and i’ll be damned if you ever feel nervous around me again.”

you chuckled in disbelief. the tom riddle in your head was supposed to be prim and proper, but the real tom was salacious and vulgar; a version of him that was better than what you could have ever imagined. still, despite the heated exchange, tom was surprisingly tender as he helped clean you up. you blushed furiously as he pulled your dress down and kissed your cheek.

the timing couldn��t have been more perfect because soon after you were situated, the two of you heard footsteps in the hall. you barely had time to compose yourself before mattheo came barging into the room.

“tom, have you seen my phone?” mattheo paused in surprise when he found you staring back at him. “oh, hi y/n. what are you doing here?”

“you asked me to come over and hang out, remember?”

“did I?” mattheo wondered aloud. “I was pretty baked earlier. guess I must have texted you then. well, i’m free now if you want to watch a movie.”

tom smirked as you shot a bewildered glance at him. “oh, yeah sure.”

“by the way, what are you doing in tom’s room? is he boring you to death about his coin collection again?”

you blushed furiously. “no, uh, we were just…tom and I were…”

“we were discussing the finer points of human anatomy,” tom lied smoothly. his smirk was still perfectly in place as he glanced over at you. “it was a rather…stimulating conversation. was it not, doll?”

the tips of your ears were bright red as you nodded in place of a response, because you couldn’t trust yourself to speak at the moment.

mattheo rolled his eyes. “well, if you’re done being a weirdo, y/n and I will be in the basement.”

you fiddled with the hem of your dress, not quite able to meet tom’s eyes. “um, well, I guess I’ll see you later?”

tom winked behind his brother’s back. “you know where to find me, doll.”

#you guys I need to be wheeled into an asylum tom makes me feel insane #tom riddle #tom riddle smut #tom riddle x reader #tom riddle x y/n #tom riddle x you #tom riddle fanfiction #tom marvolo riddle #⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ best friend's brother! tom.

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jmliebert · 3 days ago

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♡ Halsin Being Love Smitten by an Oblivious Tav ♡

Oh, this is a good one. Halsin — strong, confident, experienced — brought to his knees by one thing he never saw coming: your sheer, unrelenting obliviousness. It’s hard to make him baffled, but you did. You actually made him baffled. Incredible.

He’s lived for over three centuries. Seen countless wonders, taken many lovers, and faced horrors that would break lesser souls. Nothing has caught him off guard for the longest time it would seem. And yet you have. Because somehow, despite his very clear interest, his smoothest moves, and his voice dropping into that deep purr — you simply don’t get it. Not one bit.

And by Oak Father, it really do baffles him.

You see, he feels it every time you walk by — a rush of warmth in his chest, the unshakable need to be near you. He listens to your every word, even your stillest ramblings, with rapt attention, laughing easily and freely in a way he hasn’t in years. It feels good to be close to you. It feels right. And he’s wise enough to know exactly what that means. He is, without doubt, utterly and completely love smitten with you… and Halsin is many things, but shy is not one of them. So naturally — he courts you.

At first, subtly, slowly… intending to take full pleasure from getting to know you better in that kind of way. A lingering touch here, a playful tease there, a deep-chested chuckle whenever you say something endearing. Surely you’ll catch on.

You do not.

You smile at him. You laugh, you listen, you seem happy to be around him. But not once — not once! — you show any sign of realising that he likes you more than a friend. (oh, so much more)

Is he being too subtle? Surely not. Halsin is experienced. He’s seen things. He’s been with partners who could read his desires from a single glance, and here he is — flexing like a fool whenever you so much as glance in his direction, hoping you’ll notice.

And Oak Father help him, he’s trying so hard. It’s like he isn’t himself anymore. He feels like a young pup wandering into unknown territory.

So… he finds excuses to touch you. Offers a steadying hand when crossing a stream (as if you’re not perfectly capable), lets his large hands linger on your waist a fraction too long when lifting you over an obstacle. Getting all worked up from the mere brush of your knees.

One day Halsin brings you fruit he’s foraged with a casual,

"If you desire more, I am always at your service.”

"You really do take good care of everyone," you say, eyes shining with pure, unshaken obliviousness. The words he wants to say—I would much rather focus my care on you specifically—catch in his throat, swallowed down by a sigh. Somehow, faced with your innocence, he just can’t bring himself to say it.

Has he lost his touch? Is he truly so out of practice? He has never worked this hard to make his feelings known. And worse—he’s starting to feel things he hasn’t in years. Frustration, longing, an almost feral urge to just grab you by the shoulders and tell you outright.

By the gods, he is horny and in distress. And he’s been horny many times, but in distress like this? No. However… Halsin is not a man who simply gives up. Not to doubt, not to hesitation—and certainly not when it comes to you. Not when he’s waited lifetimes to feel this way again. Not when he’s finally met someone who stirs the very roots of his being.

So, no more subtlety, no more lingering touches. No more charming lines that you so sweetly misunderstand. One evening, with all the weight of a man on the brink, he levels you with a look, strong arms crossed over his chest, and says in a tone that leaves no room for interpretation:

“Tav. We need to talk. And this time, I’ll make sure you understand exactly what I mean.”

Because by the Oak Father, if you don’t realise how desperately he wants you after this conversation—he might just lose his mind.

So he takes you away—away from the crackling campfire, from the idle chatter of your companions, from the weight of the world pressing down on both of you. He leads you to a quiet, secluded glade where the trees arch overhead like ancient sentinels. The stars shimmer above, casting silver light over everything, but Halsin?

Halsin is radiant.

He stands before you, broad and strong, his golden skin illuminated by moonlight. There’s something different in the way he looks at you now—an intensity, a quiet, unshaken resolve. And then, in a voice deep as the earth itself, he speaks:

"I want to lay with you under the stars and feel your skin against mine…”

Your breath stutters. Your eyes widen, because suddenly, everything clicks into place.

The lingering touches. The flirtation you had brushed off as simple kindness. The way his gaze always seemed to find you, the way his presence felt like a steady force in your current life, constant and unwavering. It was never just friendliness. It was never just admiration.

It was this.

It was him wanting you.

The weight of his words sinks into you, slow and heavy like honey pouring thick from a jar. He isn’t teasing. He isn’t jesting—Halsin is far too earnest for that. His kindness, his unwavering dedication, have only blurred the truth for you. But now, there is no mistaking it. There’s no lightheartedness in his tone—only intention. Only want.

The words roll off his tongue like a promise, rich with meaning, with want. His voice is steady, but there’s something beneath it—an unmistakable need. His hand lifts, slow, deliberate, as if he’s savouring every second before he touches you. And when he does—when his large, calloused palm finally cups your cheek—your breath catches.

His warmth is immediate, grounding, real. He’s so close now—too close, not close enough. His golden eyes search yours, darkened with something primal, something deep and unspoken. He’s looking for something—truth. An answer. A silent permission for this moment to become something more.

And gods, the air between you is alive with it.

Will you give it to him?

That choice—that power—is yours.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

again, thanks for this lovely request

you can find more of my works about halsin ♡here♡ hihi

#halsin #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate halsin #bg3 imagine #bg3 halsin imagine #halsin x tav #halsin imagine #halsin headcanons #halsin x you #halsin x oc #halsin x reader #halsin bg3 #halsin silverbough #halsin fluff #bg3 fluff

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softaestluv · 1 day ago

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would you possibly do a ghost x reader where the two are sort of established enemies on base and they get into some scenario where they have to work together because everyone’s tired of how much they hate each other? 🥹

Your teeth grit at your captain's words, mouth falling opening to protest, “Captain, please forgive me, but I am not doing that with him.”

You feel like an insolent child, it's not like you to protest a direct order from your captain; you respected him far more than that. Though, you dont necessarily hold those same opinions for the masked man standing in front of Price’s desk with you. This wasn’t exactly a secret, everyone on base— including your captain, knew the resentment the two of you had for each other.

However, this wasn’t your fault; it was all his.

When you were assigned to the task force, you were nothing but kind, gracious even. Developed close friendships with everyone, but Ghost. Though it wasn’t for a lack of trying; you had tried restlessly to build a bond with him. If you were going to be on his team the least you needed was to trust the man. So, you kept trying to make it happen, but he turned all your attempts down, arrogantly replied with smart remarks or just actively ignored you. Completely silent with a frigid stare.

So, you gave up, stopped trying to please a man who could not be pleased. Let him crawl under your skin in ways no one had before, clenched your jaw tightly in irritation every time you passed him on base. Temples pulsing in aggravation each time you two made eye contact across the room.

Snarled at him during training when he pushed you a little harder than the rest of the sergeants, when he made you run one more extra lap than everyone else or stay behind to clean sweaty and soiled mats in the gym while the rest of them went out for drinks. Wished you could spit at his feet when he denied sparring with you, muttered nonchalantly that you simply weren’t strong enough.

All decency you had for him dissipated after that, insignificant and shattered. Stomped your way across the mat and pressed your finger against his chest.

“Fuck you.”

Ghost laughed. Cackled in your fucking face, had your blood boiling in your veins, “I’d like to see you try.”

Your fist clenched at your side, pointer finger at his chest gripped at the neckline of his shirt, balling it in your palms.

“Sergeant,” Price’s voice rang from the entrance of the gym, arms crossed over his chest, “Stand down.”

Which is how you found yourself in your current predicament, a stupid glimmer in his eyes at your apparent irritation. Granted, you probably shouldn’t have cussed at your superior, but you had dealt with his brazen attitude for entirely too long.

A piece of you felt bad about the entire situation, not for Ghost, but for the rest of the task force. They were forced to listen to the two of you bicker over the comms, growl at each other during dinner, sit in the thick tension everytime the two of you were in the same room. Though, Soap always joked that ‘you two just needed tae shag and get it ower wi’.’

But you couldn’t stop yourself, not when the cocky asshole turned to you with a mischievous glint, every syllable drenched in his stupid Manchester accent, “You can’t clean a couple tables, sergeant?”

You bit your tongue harshly, “I can do that just fine. I’d just rather do it without you there.”

Price exhaled exasperatedly, rubbing at his temples, “That’s enough from the both of you. If the two of you can’t do something as simple as cleaning the mess hall together then maybe neither of you belong on the task force.”

You crossed your arms over your chest, diverting your gaze defiantly, but still the both of you muttered a ‘yes, sir.’

Honestly, the task wasn’t that hard, the two of you had to clean the mess hall in preperation for an upcoming event on base. A relatively simple task for the military, better than running excess laps. You weren’t exactly sure how this was supposed to be ‘team bonding’considering the fact the two of you would be cleaning opposite sides of the mess hall. Wouldn’t interact with each other unless the two of you physically had to. It was more of punishment for the two of you to get your shit together and shut the hell up rather than becoming best acquaintances.

So, you did it, for the sake of the rest of your team. It would easy enough, but it seemed you had marginally underestimated your lieutenant’s animosity towards you.

You were half way through scrubbing the tiled floors on your hands and knees before you realized Ghost had left. You willed the anger pulsing your temples away, collecting yourself with a deep breath because maybe he would be back soon.

Except he never fucking came back, found him lounging in the rec room, leisurely sipping a cup of tea like he hadn’t left you to scrub at the grease and grime in the kitchen for two hours alone.

You stood in front of his spot, hands on your hips, “Hey asswipe.”

He lifted his head up at you, like he had barely noticed you standing there before tilting his head to the side, “Hmm?”

“You were supposed to be helping me clean the mess hall.” You spat, pointing to the door of the room.

“Just thought you could handle it all on your own,” He remarked, feigning innocence as he tapped his chin like he was deep in thought, “Surely somethin’ as simple as that wasn’t too hard for you, was it, doll?”

You fluttered your eyes shut, tried your best to stop yourself from decking your lieutenant square in his fucking skull mask. Would enjoy it entirely too much to smash the stupid porcelain between your palms. Instead, you replayed Price’s words in your head, remembered all the times Soap and Gaz made dealing with a man such as Ghost worth it.

You smiled down at your lieutenant because if it was his goal to get you kicked out of the task force, well you would do everything in your power to keep that from happening. Wouldn’t play along in his game as long as it pissed him off, ruined his plan.

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fluemsiie · 2 days ago

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our family [ j. ackles ]

synopsis. you need jensen to come back home. notes. 1.3k words, breastfeeding, depression, mentions of ppd, not proof read, happy birthday jensen <3 — comments & rbs appreciated.

jensen’s been filming for a while, and by a while, you mean for freakin’ months. he can’t catch a break and so you did what any sane person does— you moved to vancouver all the way from texas just to be close to him. it took a lot of planning, and way too much money, but you weren’t letting your husband stay at a different country alone anymore, it was taking a toll on both your mental health and your relationship.

not to mention your daughter always asking for daddy, where he is, can she go out with him; it’s breaking your heart as much as it is his and so you decided to settle for a smaller apartment near where they were filming.

you’d say it helped your mental health but that would be a lie. ever since you had your daughter you knew something had been seriously wrong. you’re unmotivated to move out of bed, you try to do everything you need to in your room, hardly go out to see anyone but her. anything you need to go do, you have delivered. if the whole ‘not moving’ thing wasn’t hurting you, then the fact that you let your body go a little is fucking breaking you.

you don’t think anything has ever been so wrong in your life, nothing goes the way it should and it seems like you can’t fix it no matter what you do which is disappointing considering you’re a mother now. a mother. you’re supposed to know everything and have all the answers.

and despite moving to be closer to him, leaving behind your own family, something not a lot of people would do, he still spends some nights at jared’s (because gen is still in texas, like you should be).

except there’s also another thing jensen has no idea about; you got diagnosed with depression shortly before you made the move, it’s a big reason why you did the move in the first place. you thought it was past partum but you made sure to actually get diagnosed before telling jen and since you won’t be harming yourself or your baby girl, you decided he didn’t need to know.

he’s been so busy since he decided to start directing too and you’re insanely proud of him, even if you’re having a hard time. but you don’t wanna risk it so here you are, alone in a city you’ve visited only a handful of times with your two year old daughter.

but today’s by far one of your worst days. you tried taking some pills, just pain killers, you aren’t comfortable taking pills for whatever’s wrong with you, you can’t risk hurting any future babies. it isn’t like you don’t believe in them— you’re a nurse, of course you do, but you also know they could hurt you long term, it’s not worth it.

some days it seems like it’s just not worth it. you pick up your phone to call jensen. it takes a few rings but then he responds and you sigh in relief. you honestly thought he wouldn’t pick up, “hey.”

“what’s wrong? are you okay?” it catches you by surprise but when you recover you tell him you and rhyme are great. “i mean you, sweetheart. you sound off.”

you don’t sound that off. definitely not enough for him to pick it up the second you greet him. not that you’re complaining, maybe if he knows what’s wrong he’ll get home faster. jensen’s always helped you in ways he wouldn’t even believe— he’s your life force at times and you’re not sure what you’d do without him, especially now when you need him.

and he’s not neglectful, he took your first four months off from filming and had his sister stay with you for the other two. he’s always put your needs in front of filming but you don’t want to be overbearing.

“when are you getting home? i’m making your favorite.”

“yeah? ‘m not too sure. twelve-thirty, give or take.” which is code for ‘don’t wait up’ so you wake up and find out he never made it home, just crashed on set or at jay’s

“okay.” you can’t bring yourself to ask him to come home even if you don’t doubt he will. jen’s working because he loves his job, sure, but it’s also to provide for you, he wouldn’t want to hurt you over something he’s doing for you in the first place. and you know all that, you just wish you’d always be logical enough to remember it.

“is that it?” god, this is conflicting. you know you need him right now, you just can’t get the words out. “sweetheart?”

“yeah.”

It’s a beat before he responds. “i’m coming home at twelve with dinner. don’t cook anything.” he ends the call and you’re smiling. it’s no surprise he figured you needed him, but you couldn’t be happier to have someone that cares enough to come when you call, despite your call being ominous and downright needy.

it’s the third time you’ve started frozen because rhyme doesn’t understand that when a movie ends you start a new one, all while breastfeeding her. it’s gotten significantly easier as she nears two years old, she just sits next to you instead of you having to kill your back, and she honestly does it for ten minutes maximum before she gets bored.

and at this point she’s tried everything from lamb to mashed fruit, milk is hardly a full meal to her. but your doctor said it’s best to try and breastfeed her until she hits the 22 month mark. she’s nearing 20 months now.

when she’s done, and else is singing ‘let it go’ with rhyme as her background vocalist, you get up to get started on dinner. jensen said to not make anything which means he’s ordering take out himself but you should probably make sure the counter is clean and that there’s a salad to go with the food.

just as you’re done cleaning the table, the front door opens and your shoulder fall in relief. you didn’t even know you were raising them. you hear his footsteps all the way to the living room, where rhyme runs into her dads arms and lifts her up effortlessly.

he turns to you, sees you standing in your open kitchen and walks over to kiss your hair softly. “hey, baby girl.”

rhyme laughs and hugs him tighter. well, the endearment is yours as much as it is hers, you’re both his girls.

“thanks for coming home, jen.”

“don’t do that, don’t thank me for that. i should’ve known it bothered you— and you should’ve told me earlier.”

“it doesn’t always! just when i need you and then i wake up and i just don’t find you.” days where the depression is just, god, it’s horrible. days when you can’t take rhyme crying because you can’t find the toy she lost or when she’s hungry and you’ve only slept two hours, waiting for his text to confirm he’s safe and at home.

“baby, i can’t always read your mind, sometimes you gotta help me out.” you nod quickly and he kisses his daughter before putting her down.

“foor?” food. he nods, placing the bag onto the table. you’ve been teaching her german so she confuses d’s for r’s. you’re not too sure how that came to be but you don’t question it because she’s been saying words in german.

the smell hits you all at once, and your heart practically squeezes itself. jensen drove to your favourite restaurant thirty minutes away. it makes your home country’s food the most authentically and you’ve always loved feeling at home.

“jensen, seriously?” he smiles and you’re the one who throws yourself into his arms this time, his little girl, not quite understanding, joins in. and you’re not sure how you would’ve gotten through today without him coming back home to his girls.

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mapoeggplant · 2 days ago

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skip to loafer chapter 68 + shima analysis // spoilers

acceptance of the monster: how facing the past is necessary when the goal is a brighter future

i think that those who have been following me for a while have seen all my analyses and random insights about shima. i have immense affection for him and he will always be one of my favorite characters ever. and chapters like this remind me of how important he is in my life.

chapter 68 is very straight to the point, but it also hides some small and big changes that started to bubble up from previous chapters. for the first time, we no longer have small, not very explicit scenes from shima's memories or him being so afraid of finally facing the past: now we have the naked truth, laid out in front of us, so that we can understand a little more about how the childhood that shaped shima's entire life until now was.

unlike what i imagined, i didn't get angry with taiga now that he was introduced. of course, i don't think his actions were right or that he didn't influence shima in a negative way, but his appearance at that moment served as both a salvation and a tragedy for shima's life.

there are many layers to be analyzed. we know very, very little about taiga, but we can understand that he didn't have a very good relationship with his family either — the moment he talks about his parents' disappointment in him for giving up acting shows us that he was probably also forced to do something he didn't want to do. he is also the result of a desire imposed on him, causing him to rebel as the years went by.

in a way, meeting shima is like meeting your past self. i don't see much evil in his actions or see it as something malicious. i think he recognized in shima's face the same nervousness that he himself felt every time before his rehearsal, thus proposing that he also have an act of rebellion to feel a little freer.

however, the evil of all this is that taiga, without knowing anything, ends up entering shima's life at a time when he is most fragile and hurt by everything he has been facing (whether it be his abusive relationship with his mother or his growing fear of acting). shima sees taiga as an equal, someone who understands all the pain he has faced but managed to escape from it, while he’s still a prisoner. he sees the older boy as an inspiration, as a friend he longed for, who would show him what a life away from cameras and rehearsals would be like.

shima is still too young to understand everything that is happening around him, and too young to see any kind of problem in following his new friend. having a destructive act at a time of such fragility gives him a certain strength, because he understands this as the only way he has to face his mother and go against everything that is imposed on him. going out with taiga, even if secretly, is a message to his mother: you no longer have control over me.

unfortunately, we have known the result of these escapades for a long time. ririka, also worried about shima, decides to follow him and ends up being targeted by several online attacks. even though shima was the one who “took” her there, ririka, a beautiful and successful girl, is the perfect target.she is the one who suffers the direct consequences, and of course this is closely linked to the sexism that is rooted in society and how much people wait for a girl to make a small mistake so that they can destroy her in some way (i talk more about this in my exclusive ririka analysis).

now shima no longer has to face just two monsters: they have now multiplied into a thousand, becoming even stronger. the consequences of his rebellion come in an aggressive form, with his mother’s abuse and the new tarnished image he obtained in his artistic circle. his mother’s anxiety comes from the fact that shima would no longer get big roles, either because of this transgression or because he missed so many rehearsals, which did not lead to any improvement in terms of acting. blinded by all the anger she feels inside, shima's mother's direct response is no other than to attack her son.

child abuse is extremely common in the arts, whether by parents, the press, the public or co-workers. shima is just one of many young actors who have had to suffer the wrath of a parent who is disappointed by a dream that they themselves forced their children to have. and of course, this would result in years of being afraid to be who they are, to speak out and to live a normal life without carrying immense guilt. the prison that he has placed himself in for all these years is the evolution of the bonds imposed by his mother.

the turning point does not happen in this chapter itself, but in a sequence of long events that led him to where he is. it is impossible for shima to change overnight: it takes a lot of work and a lot, but a lot of analysis (even if it is self-analysis) to finally understand and be able to heal all this pain that he has been held hostage by for so many years. and the second part of the chapter shows exactly that.

shima is no longer afraid to face the monster of the past because he is no longer alone. he finally understands that there are people around him who care about him and fight to stay by his side. having people's support and love gives him the strength to move forward and continue this arduous battle of growing up. shima now understands what it is to be loved to the point of being happy about a past fight, as it resulted in an even closer relationship with mitsumi. he understands that being loved is being able to look back on the past and no longer feel pain or guilt, but to recognize the one who suffered so much, with no one by his side.

he now takes on the role of the monster, but no longer to affirm his guilt, but to be able to show his past self and all the other monsters around him how it is possible for him to be happy. how it is possible to decide things for yourself and follow your heart. how it is possible to love so many people and be loved in return. how it is possible to look at a person and feel an immense warmth, an inexplicable desire to keep fighting, all so that he can be by their side.

shima is finally reaching out to his past self, so that they can form a new future together.

before i finish, i would also like to touch on an important point that i see the possibility of being discussed in the future: shima's current relationship with his mother. chapter 67 brought something very important, which was shima's recognition when he admitted that he felt a certain pity for his mother, due to all the comments he heard about her. deep down, he feels a certain empathy for his mother and no longer sees her as an unbeatable villain. he has been slowly trying to change his relationship with her, and the first step is to invite her to watch the play he chose to be in. this in my opinion shows shima's desire to forgive his mother in order to move on, but also seek some kind of forgiveness from her (which can be a result of many years of manipulation, since he still thinks he is guilty for a lot of his mother’s pain). i feel that we will still see a type of closeness between them and a deeper conversation, so that shima can finally feel like he belongs to a family again. this can be a triggering moment to a lot of readers, so if it does happen, please be mindful of it.

the layers that not only this chapter but this whole new arc has are much deeper than we imagine. building a character requires love, patience and conversation. you need to listen and understand what your character wants. respect is needed so that the story can grow. takamatsu misaki has a huge affection for her characters, for her story and for everything she has been building since 2018.

we're so lucky to be able to follow such amazingly beautiful story.

thank you so much for reading 💛💛!! don't forget to support sensei if you can! always here to discuss more about the chapter!

#skip to loafer #skip and loafer #skip to loafer spoiler #skip and loafer spoilers #shima sousuke #I can't put into words how much he means to me #I love him from the bottom of my heart #thank you for so much shima

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oopsiedaisydeer · 24 hours ago

Text

ᴍᴀʏʙᴇ, ᴍᴀʏʙᴇ ɴᴏᴛ… ᴀ ꜱᴇʀɪᴇꜱ

angst, fluff, social anxiety, one-sided attraction?, unresolved tension, self-doubt, slow burn, texting, fluff, coming-of-age, friends to lovers?

𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙧𝙚𝙚: 𝙨𝙘𝙝𝙧ö𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙚𝙧’𝙨 𝙘𝙧𝙪𝙨𝙝, 𝘧𝘵. 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨!𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘺!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

series masterlist here.

word count - 1.2k

Each moment with Matt unfolded in little fragments, stitched together by the soft glow of your phone screen.

Matt finally responds.

It’s late, hours after you’d sent your last message, when your phone vibrates on your nightstand. You’re already half-asleep, but the soft buzz jolts you awake.

Sorry, got distracted Anyway, yk the essay we have to write?

No explanation. No acknowledgment of the silence. Just a smooth continuation, like he never left you waiting.

You stare at the screen for a moment before replying.

oh, all good!! yh what did u need ?

Do u mind reading over this and telling me if it makes sense?

He sends you a screenshot.

You rub the sleep from your eyes, blinking at the bright screen as you open the image. His essay fills the screen, paragraphs stacked neatly, but something about it looks rushed.

do u want my honest opinion or the nice version?

A typing bubble appears instantly.

Honesty is the best policy

You grin, looking at the writing again.

ok tbh it's solid but ur conclusion is kinda weak feels like u just gave up halfway through

Wow. Brutal.

im just saying!! u started strong and then dipped

Matt doesn’t reply right away, and for a second, you worry you were too blunt.

Fair. I did kinda bs the ending

told u

The typing bubble appears, then disappears. You wait, your phone screen illuminating your face in the dark.

Does it at least sound smart?

You smile, curling deeper into your blankets.

ehh. smart-ish

I’ll take that as a compliment. especially from u.

A pause, and your chest warms. Then-

Thanks btw For reading it over

You smile again. It’s such a small thing, but he didn’t have to say it.

ofc :)

You yawn again, exhaustion settling into your bones. You should really sleep.

But before you can put your phone down, another message pops up.

U busy tomorrow?

Your stomach flips.

not rlly, why?

Just wondering

A beat.

I need to sleep. goodnight

You bite your lip, smiling at your screen like an idiot.

night matt

You don’t sleep right away.

You see him at school the next day.

He’s with his friends, laughing at something as he leans against the lockers. Your stomach flutters at the sight of him, like the texts from the past weekend were some secret window into a version of him that only you got to see.

For a second, you think he might look over, maybe even acknowledge you. But he doesn’t. His gaze sweeps the hallway, passing right over you without stopping.

You remind yourself that it’s fine. He has his friends. It’s not like you expected anything.

If u had to pick between never reading again or never watching a movie again, which one would you choose?

The question came out of nowhere, right as you were finishing up your homework. You blink at the message before a small smile creeps onto your face.

that's evil!!!! why would u make me choose?

Coz it's important Life-changing, even

You stare at your screen, biting your lip. Books had always been a comfort, but movies... movies made you feel things in a way nothing else did.

i hate u for this, but i think i'd pick movies

TRAITOR.

You laugh, warmth bubbling in your chest.

At school, you walk into one of the classes you happens to share with him.

You consider sitting beside him, or maybe just near him. But no, that doesn’t feel right. You consider maybe just saying something, just a quick "hey," but Matt doesn’t look up, doesn’t even glance in your direction.

Maybe he doesn’t see you. Maybe he’s just caught up in his own world.

Still, a tiny part of you deflates.

The texts continue.

Not constantly, but enough. Small exchanges after each school day, little inside jokes, assignments, shared thoughts about books, movies, random things that make you think of him.

why is it that every time I think I have things figured out, I realise i'm just guessing?

Is this about the math homework or do u just overthink everything?

stfu matt

Some days, it’s just a text or two. Other days, the conversation stretches late into the evening, messages sent in bursts between homework and distractions. And even though he never says much at school, this part, this hidden part, feels real.

The first time you call.

It starts as a joke. You text, teasing him:

u need me to explain this to you? i thought you were the expert

He replies:

Excuse me. You just dont get it

wow, ok! mansplainer unlocked.

U know what? Call me rn I’ll prove it

You hesitate. Your fingers hover over the screen. Then, before you can second-guess it, you press the button.

The phone rings once. Twice. Then—

"Wow. You actually called."

His voice is softer than you expected, warm with amusement. You roll your eyes, even though he can’t see you. "You told me to."

"I didn’t think you’d actually do it."

You’re smiling now, your nerves fading. The conversation unfolds slowly at first. Then it's natural, playful, easy. It lasts only a few minutes, but by the time you hang up, your heart is racing for reasons you don’t want to name.

Late at night, when you're already curled up under your blankets, your phone buzzes again.

Can I call you? Got something to rant about.

Your heart leaps. He wanted to call? Again?

You hesitate only for a second before typing back,.

sure!

Moments later, his voice filled your ears, soft and a little scratchy.

"I swear my physics teacher has it out for me. I turned in my homework early, and he still said I was missing something."

You smile, adjusting your pillow. "Sounds like a personal vendetta. What did you do to him?"

"Existed."

You giggle in response, the sound unfamiliar even to yourself.

They ended up talking for an hour, about school, music, the book he promised to lend you but still hadn’t. You barely notice the time passing until your eyelids grew heavy. But even as your body begged for rest, you didn’t want to end the call. Not yet. It was ridiculous. He was just ranting about physics, and yet, something about his voice in the quiet of your room made you feel lighter.

"I should probably sleep," you murmur, voice thick with drowsiness.

"Yeah," he said, but neither of them hung up. The silence stretched, comfortable.

You wonder if he could hear you breathing. If he was waiting for you to say something else, or if he was just as unwilling to let go.

Somehow he finds something else to yap about, even as your eyes drifted shut.

When you wake up, the call is over, but he's texted you.

Goodnight ? Sorry lol i didn't want to be creepy and listen to u breathe so i hung up Hope u sleep well

You ever think about how weird it is that we weren’t really friends before?

You read his message over three times before replying.

yeah, sometimes why?

I dunno. Just feel like we should’ve been.

Something about that message stuck with you for the rest of the day, an ache in your chest that wasn’t unpleasant.

You had been happier lately. And you knew why. You just weren't sure if you were allowed to admit it to yourself yet.

thank u rose for the dividers!!! @bernardsbendystraws

a/n: ahhhhh making these texts will be the bane of my existence.

taglist: @backwardshatnick @sturnslutz @applecidersturniolo @kier-with-a-k @evansturn @bluestriips @55sturn @snoopychris @y3sterdaysproblem @cowboylikenat @throatgoat4u @mattswifeyy @marysongohmy @idefinitelyhateu @sweetshuga @st7rnioioss comment to be added/removed from this series taglist !

till next time <3

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thereweredragonshere · 2 days ago

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Hi!!!!

First I just wanted to say that I love your art, and that your art of Astrid has been slowly pulling me into the Buffstrid camp!

And secondly, do you have any advice on drawing Night Furies? I've been having trouble with it (there's a 1/4 complete drawing I have just TAUNTING me) and in particular trouble with boiling it down to just shapes.

Heyy!!! :D

Thank you so so much!! <3

I find that night furies can be broken up into five basic shapes, which are then expanded upon

I will admit that it is hard to put the connection between these shapes into words. I find a lot of this comes from having traced over toothless so many times that my hand quit its job and filed a lawsuit against me. My best advice is to use those basic shapes and trace over toothless with them in mind to gain your own understanding of how he is structured, as it works differently in every artist’s mind.

- The chest is boxy and the broadest part of the torso (Think kinda like a bird, cuz they gotta have all that muscle for the wings. And the ribcage is there)

- The midsection gets increasingly thinner

- The pelvis is the pinch point where the body transitions into the tail

Another thing is the structure of the back.

I know that looks horrible and mathematical but I promise you those three red triangles are such life savers.

The top blue line is where the spine (presumably) is, so that is the most flexible part of the back. Everything will bend in accordance with it. It starts at point A of the red triangles, and ends at the pelvis. Point A to point C is on a slant, and is the absolute widest part of the body.

Because I’ve done it so many times I don’t actually draw out that triangle when I’m structuring a night fury, but it’s something that I’m always thinking about whilst plotting the important meeting points.

Another thing I tend to do is draw a line down the direct middle of the back when planning out how the pose will look

Here are a few sketches I did recently of my oc Prosper.

You can see in the first sketch that there is a directional line going down the very centre of her back. That was draw before I did any of the actual structured parts of her body.

BUT ALSO!! In the sketch closest to the right, you can see that I very obviously ignored the whole triangle shite with the chest. This is a psa that you do not under all circumstances have to stick to anatomy rules. Sometimes drawing tips do not apply and fuck yeah artistic stylisation man! That ribcage would not at all function on a real animal but does it look awful and horrible and like it should die? Nope! And- in the middle sketch, I did stick to the triangle rule. Example of selectively using drawing tips where they feel appropriate!!

Honestly there are so many points I could make when it comes to drawing these guys that there are just too many for one post. If there’s anything you want me to go specifically into detail on please do feel free to send in asks for it!

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anothermaletfwriter · 12 hours ago

Text

Don't Climb the Stairs in the Woods

Carter isn’t what you would expect from his appearance. He hated how even in the year of 2025, people made assumptions based on what he looked like. Yes, he was a twink but that didn’t mean he was gay. In fact, he was the opposite. He was the elusive straight twink, having the slender youthful pale white frame often held up by gay men as one of their beauty standards while having only attraction for the opposite sex. He was entirely straight, not even remotely bi-curious. It was a constant social problem but it particularly plagued him in his love life. The hot girls he wanted to bang friend zoned him as they wanted their own little gay best friend. Surprisingly despite his looks, he wasn’t very tolerant of the gays or their lifestyles. Unfortunately, he would learn tolerance and acceptance the hard way.

Today was one of the few dates he snatched with a woman. His tactic of deepening his voice and making his flirting extremely obvious worked this time. He was in the middle of talking to the cute blonde named Carrie at a coffee shop when her muscle-bound gay Asian best friend, Tristan, came along. He sashayed in his walk, wrists limping and hips swaying, as he hugged his bestie. While Tristan’s only direct interaction with Carter was a friendly wave and “Hello, how are you?”, Carter felt the atmosphere had been spoiled. He got sick of the man at first sight and hated it even more when Tristan opened up his mouth and all that came out was his overtly-flamboyant cadence. Carter abandoned his date and left the shop instantly, explaining that he didn’t want to date a girl with gay friends like Tristan.

Now he was walking through the woods, attempting to find a peace of mind like he always did. He took on his usual trail, passing some pine trees and a pond that had geese and ducks. Strangely enough, there were no sounds of creatures. No things hissed or slithered. Even the ducks that honked at him were silent. Everything in the forest was quiet save for the crunch under his feet and the breezy wind that haunted him. Something is wrong here.

He tried to turn back on the trail but the forest had reorganized itself, his path now blocked by a thick brush of trees. It was too thick to get through. He turned forward and a staircase stood there. It was made of concrete with graffiti of rainbows and nets of vines on the side. Chills ran through his heart that warned him to not get on it. He became paralyzed as voices without a source whispered for him to go on it. There was something exciting only seen at the top. No matter how hard he tried to push his legs back, they could only move forward, his body out of his control.

“I don’t deserve this. I wanna go home,” He tried to speak out but his tongue didn’t follow. He hoped that this was all a bad dream and not karma for acting like an asshole earlier.

As his sentient body slowly went up the stairs, the voices got louder. As he got on the top, the voices felt like they were screaming in his ear but with both feet on the final step, only the ground afterwards, it stopped. Everything was frozen in time like someone had paused the channel. The only noises he heard were his heartbeat and stomach churning before it all returned. The trees swayed in the softer wind and the ducks quacked and tackled each other in the pond.

His entire body felt cooler, and he felt his raised goosebumps. He was naked! All of his clothes gone and out of sight. God this was embarrassing. He covered his average-size junk with his hands, realizing he was in control of his body again.

Happy that nothing severely bad occurred, Carter carefully went back down the stairs.

He noticed that the steps seemed lower down than before, as his legs made larger strides. His skin was changing, while initially thinking it was a trick of the light, he finally realized his skin tone was shifting into a darker and tan shade. His flat cardboard of a chest popped up like two meaty balloons as his skinny abs hardened into a vascular 8 pack. His jawline felt sore as it elongated into a more rectangular shape and chiseled out for a more mature appearance. His stick-thin legs became tree trunks. His curly brown hair shortened into jet black and straight short hair dyed with a tinge of brown. On the arms he held on the rail, they exploded with muscle. His bicep grew more prominent with veins that pumped testosterone through out his whole body the closer he got on the bottom. His ass felt heavy as it had expanded with muscle.

After getting off the stairs, Carter ran to the pond and was shocked by the stranger in the reflection of the water. He was a Chinese hunk now!

His member poked out as he became aroused from his own reflection. The more he stroked, the more of his memories transformed. All the nights he spent in his car banging woman turned into Sniffies and Grindr meetups where they flip-fucked in his car. His attraction to woman replaced by an attraction to men, notably Asian muscle men like himself, like a real man. His name was not Carter, it was Cade. Before he could climax, his phone dinged, ruining his streak.

He sighed, opening past the lockscreen off his near naked body in front of a tropical sunset to a Grindr notification. It was from Azn muscle, “U at the trail yet?”

“Yeah. Got so horny I almost got off lol.”

“Lmao save your hot cum for me. Be there soon.”

Cade exhaled with impatience. After a blink, a backpack and bike manifested on the ground next to him. After another blink, a pair of tight white shorts appeared on his body, not leaving much to the imagination. He began to remember that he was biking shirtless as usual to his Grindr hookup spot and passed the time by admiring the gorgeous nature and his handsome reflection.

Once his hookup, whose name was Tristan and was complaining of a bitchy straight white twink earlier, arrived, it didn’t take long for them to get on their knees on the warm sun-heated ground, taking turns as they pounded each other’s bubble butt with their monster Asian cocks. Cade reveled in being used by a fellow muscle Asian, their mouths fondling their asses and cocks. After they filled each other with their hot potent seed, they parted ways, messaging each other to meet at the same spot again next week.

Cade returned to his apartment to prepare for the rest of the hookups for the day. In an hour, he had to meet in the bathroom of a closing down mattress store. In three hours, he was back in the trail. He would finish his last hookup in an upscale luxury apartment at the stroke of midnight before sleeping on the stranger’s bed.

Cade sometimes had nightmares that he was a straight white twink lost in an eternally paused forest but they went away after a few weeks. After all, he had always been Cade and no one else. He was a gay Asian muscle slut and was proud of it.

#male tf #muscle tf #whitetoasian #twink to jock #straight to gay #male transformation #reality change #racial tf #tf story #race change

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hotchscoffeecup · 1 day ago

Text

those things will kill you

pairing: javier peña x dea!reader

tags: gun violence, broken glass injury, bullet wounds, blood, no y/n

word count: 5k

summary: attacked in a public bar, javier takes you back to his apartment to get you cleaned up and tend your wounds. an almost kiss leads to an exploration of feelings neither of you were prepared for.

as always, big thanks to muffin for always being willing to help beta my fics <3

The bartender places a bottle of beer, sweaty with condensation, in front of you on the bar top.

After uttering a short thank you in Spanish, you leave a couple of bills on the counter and twist your fingers around the neck of the bottle. The beer is cold and slides down your throat easily, but it tastes bitter in your hollow stomach.

You run your tongue over your teeth and tsk, shaking your head wondering how you ended up in this mess. Everything seems like it’s going to hell in a handbasket and all the government wants to do is tie your hands and everyone else’s in the search for Escobar.

You hate how it all keeps you up at night; the cat and mouse. For every inch you eked closer, Escobar always seemed to be a mile ahead. Even when he is right under your nose, he evades capture and disappears without so much as a trace of evidence.

You think too far too deeply about Pablo Escobar and you know it affects your work. How can the same man who built homes and schools for the poor of his hometown be the same man that would blow up a city street full of school children and their families a week before school starts? The thought of it keeps you awake at night because you genuinely cannot fathom how such a disconnect can exist in the human mind. He is a drug lord. A killer. A criminal. But he was also someone’s child, someone’s husband, someone’s father. Could he really justify all of this cruelty and malice? You wonder when enough stopped being enough for him. You wonder if a reality existed where he was just that, a man of the people. A family man. In another life, maybe he could’ve actually maintained a seat in the Colombian congress. In all his posturing and speech making, he really did exude all of the makings of a good politician that wanted to see a better and more prosperous Colombia. Instead, he became that which instilled fear in the hearts of those that called the great nation their home.

The clipped click of a lighter snaps you out of your own mind and the sounds of the bar pull you out from under the sea of thoughts you’d lost yourself in.

“Real sharp instincts there,” Javier jabs as he drags on the cigarette between his lips and settles into the seat beside you. “Glad I’m not a sicario. Getting the jump on you would be all too easy now, wouldn’t it?”

“Fuck off, Peña, I’m not in the mood.”

“What happened? Get in trouble with the ambassador or something?”

You direct a hard stare in his direction and that seems to speak for itself.

“It’s an adjustment for everyone. He’s definitely more of a tight ass, but he’ll get used to the way things operate down here. Give it time.”

You scoff. “Easy for you to say. All you and Murphy have to do is posture and dick swing your way into his good graces. It’s not that easy for me.”

The bartender nears your end of the bar and inclines his head towards Javier. He gestures towards the drink in your hand with his cigarette and says, “Lo mismo, por favor.”

With a drink now in hand, he turns towards you and levels his deep brown eyes on yours.

“Cut the crap.”

Your brow arches toward your hairline. “Excuse me?”

The corners of his eyes crinkle as one side of his lips quirks up. “I’m not buying this ‘I’m-a-lady-so-I-have-to-work-twice-as-hard’ bullshit. You’re a damn good agent and that’s why you’re here with me and Murphy. Ambassador knows that. So, why don’t you tell me what’s really bothering you?”

He takes a swig of his beer and swallows hard. Pointing the bottle at you he says, “and to be clear, I’m not swinging my dick around for anyone.” His eyes flicker over your face and a glint of mischief enters his gaze. “Unless they ask nicely of course.”

You drop your chin and shake your head. “Just when I thought you were being genuine.”

“Hey, I am genuine,” he protests. He pops the cigarette between his lips and grabs your shoulder, the warmth of his palm pressing through your jacket. “C’mon, what’s really eating you?”

You grab the bottle in front of you and swirl the pale liquid inside, forming a small tornado when you still your hand. “I just haven’t been sleeping, that’s all.”

Javier drops his hand from your shoulder to take the cigarette from his lips and blows out a puff of smoke, angling his mouth away from you but the acrid smell still manages to burn your nostrils.

“Those things will kill you, you know?”

Javier smirks and you hate how good it looks on his smug face. “We work in Bogotá. A lot of things can kill us.”

“No need to tempt fate.”

He moves from side to side as if weighing his options. “Cigarettes, alcohol, working too hard trying to prove ourselves that we don’t sleep at night…we all have our vices.” His eyes linger on yours and you suddenly feel vulnerable being called out like that.

“Consider the reasons I don’t sleep, Javi.” You drain the last of your beer and push the bottle away from you.

You press your hands against the edge of the bar, but before you can push yourself up and off of the barstool, Javier claps a hand over one of your wrists, stilling you.

“You can talk to me, you know?” The browns of his irises flicker as they bear into yours and the hollow pit in your stomach widens. You know you can talk to him. Steve too. It’s just hard to be too vulnerable down here though when there’s so much pressure coming down from all angles. If you even look like you might collapse under the weight of it all you’ll get rotated back to the States so quickly, you won’t even get the chance to say goodbye. This is the opportunity of a lifetime for you and you can’t squander it. So, it stays easy to lock it down, despite the consequences.

So, you do just that and lock it down. Forcing a smile you know doesn’t reach your eyes, you shake off his hand and zip up your jacket. “I’m fine, Peña. I’ll see you in the morning.”

He presses his lips together, but doesn’t say anything more. He nods his head in farewell and you turn to leave.

You take two steps before your name rolls off of his tongue and you roll your eyes. “Peña, I’m—” The words die on your lips as you turn, eyes drifting past Javier to the pair on the motorcycle beyond the glass window that makes up the external wall of the bar. The man on the back of the motorcycle aims an automated weapon in Javier’s direction.

“Everybody get down!” You cry out as all hell breaks loose.

You’re airborne as the glass shatters and the explosive sounds of gunfire fill the space. You collide with a thick wall of muscle and hit the ground hard, covering your head with one arm and shielding his body with the other. The gunfire stops almost as soon as it had started and the sound of tires squealing on the pavement echoes off the street.

Patrons scream and cry out as they scramble over one another to evacuate the space. You roll onto your side and groan as shards of glass cut into your arms through the thin windbreaker you have on.

“Javier,” you groan as you reach for him. He’s moving so you know he’s alive. You lean over him and his shocked visage. “Javi, are you with me?”

He blinks hard out of whatever stupor he’s in and sits bolt upright. “Which direction did they go?” He turns his head to look over his shoulder and the gaping frame where shards of glass poke out of the windowsill like jagged teeth.

“They’re gone,” you say on an exhale. “Are you alright? Did you hit your head or anything when I tackled you?”

He breathes out a short laugh and you fear he might be in shock. “Did I hit my head? No, I didn’t—” He stops and shakes his head like he’s trying to clear away a fog. His brow pinches as he looks around at the damage. Tables and chairs are upended and cast aside. Broken bottles line the floor where they shattered upon impact off the shelves behind the bar and litter the ground. You’re surprised to find that, miraculously, no bodies littered the ground in the wake of the attack.

A hand cups your chin and you reflexively reach for the gun tucked into your waistband.

Peña raises his other hand in surrender. “I think you might’ve hit yours though.” His eyes shift just above your field of vision and that’s when you feel the hot sticky substance drip down onto your lashes. You raise a hand and touch it, surprised to find a smear of red staining your fingertips when you look at them.

“I think that’s just from the glass. It’s all in my jacket.”

Javier clambers to his feet and dusts off his jeans. Bits of glass hit the floor as it rattles off of his leather jacket, a much heartier material that you wish yours had been made from.

He extends a hand towards you and you take it, wincing as he pulls you to your feet. With a grunt, you tug the zipper down and shrug out of your jacket. There’s no saving the ripped and bloodied material so you drop it on the floor.

“Fuck, you’re hit.”

The words don’t register as Javi closes the gap between the two of you and the smell of cigarettes and cologne envelops you in a strange, yet almost comforting cloud of, well, Javier.

He scrubs a hand over his face as he hesitates to touch you. You hear him muttering to himself, but the words don’t quite register. Funny how a moment ago you were worried about him going into shock.

A sharp sting of pain brings you back to your senses as Javier presses a folded up bar towel to your shoulder. “Hold pressure on that,” he instructs. He turns and reaches back to take your hand in his. “Come on, I’ll get you out of here. I need to get you taken care of.”

And that’s how you find yourself in the passenger seat of Javier Peña’s Jeep with blood seeping through a dirty bar rag onto the upholstery of his passenger seat. At some point he reaches over you and retrieves the satellite phone from within the glove box to call in the attack.

“No, Murphy. I’m fine. She’s fine. Minor wounds it seems. No—no, don’t wake Connie. I’ve got a kit at my apartment. Yes, I’ll keep an eye on her. I’ve already called the Ambassador and Martinez. Yeah, yeah. Ok, goodnight. I’ll call you if anything happens.”

By the time he pulls into his garage, the adrenaline wears off and the sharp sting of pain in your shoulder becomes glaringly obvious. Javier gets out and moves to open the door for you. He places a supporting hand under your uninjured arm as you maneuver your way out of the car in the confined space. Your body brushes against the firm plane of his as you do and you don’t miss the way he stiffens in response.

“Let’s get you inside,” he murmurs and drops his hand to the small of your back to guide you towards the door.

His apartment is simple, built in the same style as yours and Murphy’s. They all share the same furniture and simple decorations, though yours doesn’t have quite the number of liquor bottles perched on various surfaces and vaguely remember what he’d mentioned about vices at the bar. The smells strongly of him, of his earthy cologne and cigarette smoke. You’ve grown used to it from sitting across from him at work for the last six months. There’s something oddly comforting about it even though the amount he and everyone else smokes bothers you to no end.

“Why don’t you sit down?” He says, gesturing toward the couch.

You do as he suggests and sit on the couch, only on the edge though. You don’t want to ruin the upholstery like you’d done with his car. Plus, you’re fairly certain there’s still small shards of glass embedded in the skin of your back and the idea of pressing those in any further makes you queasy.

Javi disappears into the bathroom, muttering expletives under his breath in English and in Spanish. He returns with a small red first aid kit, a couple of wash clothes, and a bottle of rubbing alcohol.

He climbs onto the couch and perches on the back of the sofa, his legs spread on either side of your body. “Hold these,” he says, and doesn’t wait to dump the items into your lap.

With gentle hands, he peels the bar rag up and off your shoulder. “Good,” he sighs. “Bleeding’s stopped. Let’s get you out of this shirt.”

You turn your head over your shoulder to look at him from beneath an arched brow and he immediately doubles back. “So we can clean this properly and make sure there isn’t any more glass. Get your mind out of the gutter.”

“Funny, I thought you liked it there.” Your lips curve into a wicked smile. “I know what you meant, but it is fun to watch you squirm.”

Javier shakes his head and you turn back around to pull your tank top up and over your head. You try to do it with one arm to avoid aggravating your shoulder, but the movement jostles the joint and you hiss between your teeth. Javi catches your hand as you try to pull it over the injury and takes over guiding it up and over the wound. He discards your tank top on the ground and sucks in a breath.

“What, Jav? You see women in their bras, or without them, all the time. Relax.”

“No, it’s not that. Wait, what—”

You smirk to yourself. “What’s the problem?”

“It’s just on second thought, I think we ought to move to the kitchen. There’s more light there and there’s still some glass stuck in and around where the bullet clipped you.”

He gently lays the towel back down over the open wound on your shoulder and you follow him to the kitchen and drop your keys and gun onto the counter before perching on one of the bar stools. He kicks the nearby waste paper basket next to the empty stool beside you and arranges the first aid items onto the counter, opening the kit and withdrawing gloves, tweezers, gauze pads, and roller bandages. He zips the kit shut, determining he has everything that he needs and places it in his lap as he sits down.

A strange silence settles over the two of you as he snaps on the pair of latex gloves and sets to work. He removes the soiled rag from your shoulder and drops it into the trash. The pinch and sting of him pulling glass from within and around your injuries dulls over time and you watch as the tiny pile of red stained shards grows on the counter next to you.

“You know there wouldn’t be so much of this if you hadn’t fallen directly on top of me.”

Javier scoffs. “You’re right. Next time we’re in a firefight, I’ll let you fall on me.” The tweezers lock on to another small shard and you grimace as he pulls it free. “I think that was the last one.”

He unscrews the plastic cap from the bottle of rubbing alcohol and soaks a washcloth with it. “This is probably going to hurt worse, but we gotta get this cleaned up.”

You nod. “I know, go ahead.”

When he’s cleaning the dried blood from off and around the skin, it just grazes over small cuts and scrapes that feels more annoying than anything else. It’s when he passes over the open wound in your shoulder that a curse slips past your lips and tears well in your eyes.

“Fucking shit, that hurts.”

“I know,” Javi says apologetically. “We definitely don’t want you to get any infection though.” He swipes the cloth over the injury three more times and just when you start to wonder if he’s a sadist, he finally declares he’s finished and drops the washcloth into the trash. The cool air blowing from the nearby AC unit dries the alcohol and relieves the burning sting. He replaces it with a fresh gauze pad and holds it in place with his left hand while his right works the roller bandage into position. He works quickly and quietly as he winds it around your shoulder and bicep. After securing a knot in the bandage, he sits back and nods affirmatively, content with the job he’s done.

“Now let me see your forehead. We oughta get that cleaned up as well while I’ve got you here.”

You’d almost forgotten about the cut above your eye with the adrenaline wearing off and the pain in your shoulder growing more severe. You reach up absentmindedly and brush your fingers against the now dried and flaking blood stuck in your eyebrow. Javi spills some alcohol onto a gauze pad and your breath catches when he touches the tips of his opposite hand beneath your chin to tilt it towards the overhead light.

He swipes at the dried blood and scrubs it free from your eyebrow. When he passes over the shallow cut, you wince and he apologizes. When it’s clean, he peels open the wrapper on a butterfly bandage and uses the tips of his fingers to try to place it so it’ll pull the cut closed. A small smile tugs at your lips as you watch him press his tongue to his bottom lip as his fingers tremble ever so slightly as he makes sure the small ends of the bandage don’t tear.

“There,” he whispers when he’s sure it’ll stay put. His face is so close to yours and the breath catches in your throat when his eyes drop to yours. “Just like new.”

Time slows to an absolute standstill and you feel yourself inextricably drawn to him, as if there’s some tether pulling you towards him and you really start to wonder if you did hit your head harder than you thought in the chaos because you’re pretty sure he’s also leaning in towards you, which would be crazy because he’s your coworker, but he’s also tilting his head and his face is incredibly close to yours…

Reality snaps back into place like a rubber band against skin when the first aid kit resting on his thighs clatters to the ground. You immediately pull away and drop down off of the stool to pick it up and Javier immediately chastises you doing so.

“Dammit!” He curses and your name sounds sharp on his tongue. “You’ve barely stopped bleeding, don’t jerk yourself around like that.” He snatches the first aid kit from you and splays a hand under your elbow to pull you back up to a standing position. He tosses the kit onto the counter and stalks off into the living room leaving you at the bar wondering what the hell is driving this one-eighty in behavior as he paces back and forth across the carpet.

“Damn, Peña. I’m not going to bleed out on your kitchen floor.” You smirk. “Your jeep, maybe,” you suggest, trying to make light of the sudden tension in the room.

Javier either doesn’t or chooses not to hear you. He loops his thumb through one of his belt loops as he shakes his head and mutters under his breath. “I don’t need this right now.”

Your brow pinches and you hate the heat that rushes to your cheeks. You shuffle your weight from foot to foot and suddenly feel like you’re taking up too much space in the small apartment as he increases the space between you and him. This errant behavior is giving you more whiplash than when you’d taken him to the ground and you’re about to call him out on it, when, without another word, he turns and ducks into his room.

Irritation quickly replaces whatever vulnerability you’d just been feeling. “What the hell does that mean?” You ask, your words clipped and demanding. You walk towards the sounds of him rummaging around inside drawers and come to an abrupt halt as he strides out of his bedroom and presses a ball of fabric into your chest. “This,” he says by way of explanation and takes a dramatic step away from you.

“And by this you mean what exactly?” You know exactly what the this in question is, but you want to hear him say it. Frankly, you’re just as surprised by whatever just happened between you and him, but you’ve worked with each other long enough now to know when the other is severely bullshitting their way through a situation and you have no intention of letting him get away with it.

The smell of his detergent wafts up around you from the shirt in your hands and you take the opportunity to try to awkwardly shrug into it without aggravating the freshly dressed wound. It’s hard to start an argument and be taken seriously when you’re standing toe to toe with someone and you’ve only got on jeans and a black lace bra after all.

As you fumble with the buttons on his shirt, he takes a resigned step backwards and collapses onto the couch. He gestures vaguely at the space between the two of you. His voice is softer when he speaks, tired. “All of this. God.” He runs a hand through his hair and falls back into the cushions. “You,” he says, eyes briefly meeting yours and then at the ceiling.

Your fingers pause mid-fastening. “What about me?”

Javier shakes his head. A wry smile pulls at his lips, rife with disbelief, and it fades as quickly as it comes. “You nearly died tonight.”

You arch a brow and direct a knowing look at him. “Javi, not sure if you were paying attention but we both nearly died tonight. I mean, things moved a little quickly for me to break out my calculator and add shit up, but I don’t think all 30 or 40 of those rounds were meant just for me. I think they were aimed at both DEA agents and they didn’t give a fuck who else got caught in the crossfire.”

“That’s not the point,” he responds resolutely.

“Then tell me what is.”

He doesn’t answer, but sits up and pulls the half crushed pack of cigarettes from his back pocket and slips one between his teeth. As he rolls his thumb over his lighter, you feel your already short fuse ignite. Without giving it a second thought you step forward and snatch the cigarette from between his lips.

“Hey!” He protests, nostrils flaring.

You snap the stick of tobacco in front of him and toss it to the floor. “Enough of the theaterics, Peña.” You stare directly into his eyes, refusing to let him get away with ignoring you. “Quit bullshitting me and tell me what’s really on your mind.”

The sound of the wall clock ticking fills the space and the silence is unbearable, but you refuse to be the first to break. Fifteen more uncomfortably strained seconds tick by before he drops his gaze to the floor and scrubs a hand over his face with a heavy sigh.

He slides over on the couch and pats the cushion next to him. “Sit down, will you?”

You do as he asks and situate yourself at an angle towards him with one leg pulled up across your lap.

“Here,” Javi says as he pulls a throw pillow out from behind him and wedges it gently between you and the couch. “I don’t want you to go and tear open anything I got closed.”

You huff out a quiet laugh and thank him, glancing down at his haphazardly buttoned shirt you’ve got on. You notice you’ve completely misaligned what you’d managed to fasten. Ignoring that for now, you kick at his shin and incline your head towards him. “You done with all the tough guy shit?”

Javier presses his lips together and nods. “Yeah, I’m sorry about that. I don’t know what happened. I just—”

“Just what?”

He lifts his eyes to yours and you watch the way his coffee colored irises flicker in the lamplight. “There's just some lines you shouldn’t cross.”

“This is Bogotá,” you say, mirroring his words from earlier. “There’s a lot of lines we shouldn’t cross.”

“I’m serious,” he responds brusquely, eyes darkening as he shuts you out once more.

You sit up straighter, undeterred by his obvious attempts to push you away. “Yeah, well tough shit, so am I.”

The way he speaks your name is laced with frustration and uncertainty. He’s holding back and your own frustration mounts. You’re tired, you’re in pain, and frankly, now you’re just feeling plain stupid. You’d heard rumors of Javier’s extracurricular activities with women. Did you really want to be another notch in his bedpost?

You let out a low, wry chuckle and shake your head. “You know what, Javier?” You push yourself up and off the couch, wincing as you do so, and look down at him. “Give me a call if you figure out what side of the line you stand on.”

You turn and swiftly move towards the door, swiping your keys and gun off of the counter as you do so. You use your good arm to shove your sidearm into the back of your jeans and unlock the deadbolt on Javier’s front door.

You’ve barely pushed the door open when Javier appears at your side and yanks it closed. Before you can protest, he pushes you up against the door and presses his lips to yours in a devastatingly desperate kiss.

You can’t control the moan that rushes from your mouth into his as you kiss him back. He tastes like mint and menthols and you suddenly can’t remember why you hate the smell of cigarettes so much. The cuts along your back and shoulder blades sting as the wood rubs up against the shirt Javier gave you, but with his hands pressed against the expanse of wall on either side of your face, you decide it’s bearable.

That is until you reach up unthinkingly to tangle your hand into his hair and a sharp sting of pain reverberates from your shoulder all the way down to your fingertips.

Javi abruptly breaks off the kiss and his eyes flicker across your face, shining with concern. “Fuck, I’m sorry! I just got caught up in the moment. Did I hurt you?”

You place a placating hand against his chest and feel the erratic beating under your palm. “I’m fine, Jav. Really.”

He licks his lips and you already miss the way they felt against yours. He presses them together and nods. “Good.”

“Good,” you echo. “I guess I should head home though, get some rest. God knows the ambassador is going to want a report on all of this.”

“You got shot, the ambassador can get fucked.”

“Fucked, is what we’re both going to be if we can’t figure out who targeted us.” You sigh and shake off the thought. “I better get going. It’s late.”

Javier stops you from turning to leave. “You’re not walking home alone this late at night.”

“It’s down the street, I’ll be fine.”

“You’re not walking alone.”

“Then walk me home. Your strong male aura will keep danger at a bay,” you add sarcastically.

“No.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Then what do you suppose I do?”

“Simple, stay here. I’ll drive you home in the morning.”

“And sit on all that blood? No thanks.”

“Okay fine, I’ll walk you home in the morning.”

You consider the implications of that and choose the safest route. “S’pose I could sleep on the couch.”

Javier shakes his head. “I’m not gonna make you sleep on the fucking couch. You’ll sleep in my bed.”

“And you’ll sleep where?”

“Next to you,” he says smoothly. “If you’ll let me.”

You arch a brow. “And we’ll just…sleep?”

Javi shoves his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and shrugs his shoulders, his smile smug. “Tonight, yes.” He steps forward and takes a hand from his pocket to cup your face gently in his wide palm. He places a tender kiss upon your lips. “Tomorrow night might be a different story.”

“I think I’d be quite interested in reading that,” you respond playfully.

“It’s different than what I’m used to,” Javier says and then adds, “but I think change might not be a bad thing.”

You give him a once over and nod. “I think you’re right about that.”

He smiles, somewhat sheepishly, as he says, “I’m sorry for being such a dick.”

The corner of your mouth quirks as you shrug your good shoulder. “I’m not sorry I pushed your buttons like that. It’s about time you open up and actually let yourself feel your feelings.”

He rubs his thumb across your bottom lip and then drops his hand to curve around your hip and rest on the small of your back. “Let’s get some sleep, huh?”

And that’s how you find yourself lying in bed next to Javier Peña of all people, wearing his shirt to sleep while he snores softly beside you; and you can’t help but wonder how many things had to happen for you to end up here at this moment. His arm drapes over your waist, pulling you in against the steady warmth of his skin and you find that you quite like the way you fit so perfectly against the crook of his body.

In the comfort of his arms, you drift off into an uninterrupted sleep and for the first time since you can’t remember when you don’t dream of Pablo Escobar.

#narcos #narcos fic #narcos fanfiction #javier peña #javier pena x reader #javier pena fanfiction #javier pena narcos #javier pena x you #javier pena fic #javier pena imagine #javier pena x y/n #javier pena x dea!reader #dea!reader #pedro pascal

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tennessoui · 2 days ago

Text

modern au where obi-wan works in a used bookshop and they have a wall dedicated to all the pieces of paper they find in donated books (ticket stubs from concerts, old post cards, train tickets, receipts, etc) and it’s a part of Obi-Wan’s job to add to their collection while he’s flipping through and pricing donated books.

in the most recent haul though, he finds a very sweet card that says something like “dear Anakin, I’m so very proud of you for graduating and so happy I was able to see it. The deaths of all of our toasters when you were growing up always felt worth it to see you tinkering with something that made you happy, but now the world will see you as well. Love, mom”

something about this card moves him more than anything else he’s found has. maybe it’s the handwriting, or the sentiment, or the fact that Obi-Wan’s own father just passed away, putting an end to their complicated relationship forever. Whatever the reason, Obi-wan decides to find Anakin and give him his book back, or at very least the card. On the inside cover, there’s a name of the previous owner: Padmé Amidala. perhaps she knows how to get in contact with Anakin.

(meanwhile of course, anakin had misplaced the card in that book he’d never finished reading, which was a political history book Padmé had been after him for years to read. When he and Padmé divorce, both of them downsize and Padmé donates much of her library to various places to make room for the twins’ playroom instead. When a bedraggled but well-meaning bookshop owner shows up at her doorstep with one of those books, she’s all too happy to point him in her ex-husband’s direction, if only it means she doesn’t have to deal with whatever problem Anakin’s found himself in)

(meanwhile of course post divorce single father anakin would love nothing more than a good romp in the sheets with Bedraggled Bookshop Man who appears at his doorstep with the most boring political history in the world - and an old card from his mom who passed away a few years ago. Anakin loves signs from the universe. This seems like a good one.)

#Kit’s silly lil aus #obikin #yes I am at a bookshop that has a wall of those things left in books #and it’s very cute #anakin got maybe 60 pages through this book #absolutely hates it #obviously a metaphor for the differences between he and his ex wife #hates it up til a few years later he overhears bedraggled bookshop man #or as he has come to be known- obi-wan #reading that political text to the twins as a bedtime story do they fall asleep #then it’s not so bad #shmis card gets framed and placed on the entry wall

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appleblueberry-pie · 1 day ago

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currently going insane over the lack of Yandere!Armin x reader, please deliver 😭🙏

I Know You Like You Know Me

In which Armin Arlert is getting ready to confess to his friend that is also his muse and he secretly calls his lover. He was very patient and articulated very carefully how he decided to approach you with his obsession over you for so long, until one day you call him out on his behavior. He tries to cover his tracks, but you aren't one to fool.

Text Breaker by @cafekitsune

wc: 3,703 words. i needed this badly. thanks for the request.

Armin told himself to give it a few days before he confesses. And usually he would take the first chance possible to talk to you if he picked up on something that needed communicating for. But this was bigger than just a simple argument. Bigger than needing help with homework or finding out how you're going to pay off your tuition, because all of these things he knows how to control and handle. He always finds a way to make things right for you. But this...he can't control this. All these years of studying your mind, your actions and little habits, he doesn't know if you'll give a promising yes. He needs a yes from you. He needs you to need him. Just giving basic interest is enough to please him. Fuck, just giving him a chance is all he needs to show you he's everything you'd ever want and need.

For the millionth time that day, he fiddles with his fingers, staring at the ground in deep thought. "Armin...?" The sound of a familiar saccharine voice has him pulling his head up to the sight of you. The worry melts off his face and, instead, paint a natural smile. "Y/n....I didn't realize your class was over yet. I would've met you by the door." He stands to offer his seat to you. You accept and go to sit down, feeling him take your backpack from off your shoulders. "Oh, you don't have to." "No, no, it's fine." He puts it on for you and watches you watch him. He shoves his hands in his pocket to not embarrass himself and feels heat on his neck when you don't break eye contact. "Are you alright? I tried texting you a few minutes before my class ended and you didn't respond. You looked worried when I found you." He shakes his head. "No, I'm totally fine. I promise. Just thinking about if you ate anything yet," He lies. You look up in thought. "Oh, okay. Oh...yeah, I didn't eat anything today." Armin's smile drops and he pulls you to your feet to drag you in the direction of the cafeteria. "What? Why not? Didn't you eat the breakfast I packed for you?" He gives you a concerned look and you remember finding the randomly placed hot meal in your dorm room this morning. You meant to ask him about that. "Wait, that was you? How did you even get into my dorm-" "You need to eat at least three meals a day. This is why you have headaches, right?" He takes you through the cafeteria doors and you purse your lips at him dodging the question. His hand went from your arm to your hand, holding it like it was meant to be there.

He's been throwing you off these past few weeks. And you want to drop it because he is your friend and you've known him for so long. But you catch him staring at you. Hard. It's always when you're not looking and he thinks you're unaware of it, but his gaze is too strong to ignore even if you wanted to. You also know he overthinks everything you tell him because when you tell him about your classes(the only time you're NOT together), you watch him think over your words as if he's playing it in his head. Like he was there when it happened and was trying to see if your memory was correct. Not only that, certain problems have been reoccurring. And for some reason, these creepy things keep happening to you and it always seems too conveniently strategized, like it was specifically meant to happen to you, for you, like the person knew you. You don't even like thinking too hard about the details, knowing how you get when you're paranoid. And the only person you can tell about your issues is Armin. But what if.....

There's a plate of meatloaf and mashed potatoes in front of you. Armin placed it there. He also has a plate, but his doesn't look as good as yours. Gravy sits on top of the mashed potatoes, so beautifully plated. You got a better slice of meatloaf than him. He stares at you, waiting for you to start eating. You pick up your fork and knife, beginning to eat. It's better than you thought and you realize you did need this. He starts eating when you do.

"I know you didn't eat earlier too." "It's not about me." You give him a stern look. He smiles at you. You sink back into your thoughts while you eat and Armin quickly catches onto your silence. He stares at your blank face. He wants to disrupt your peace, but you've already had a long day.

The rest of the day is spent the same way it was yesterday and the day before. Wake up, go to classes, text Armin between classes, meet at the end of your last class, eat, go back to either yours or his dorm to study, talk, go to bed, repeat. If he wasn't so adamant of sticking together all the time, you would probably have more friends and wouldn't be stuck on campus all of the time. As messed up as that sounds, it's true.

The clock on your wall goes twice as slow as you count down the seconds that this "mandatory" study session takes to end. You knew about this chapter already, having studied it over the weekend when you woke up earlier than you usually would. You watch Armin point at the sentence mentioning something important that you don't really care about anymore and you look up at him. He's already looking at you, waiting for you to show that you understood the words coming out of his mouth.

".....Yeah." He smiles and nods, moving onto the next page. You interrupt his focus, calling out to him, "Um...I think I'm ready to take a break now." He doesn't lift his head from the textbook, pointing a finger up, "..Okay, just in a few minutes, it's a little more in this section that I want to make sure you understand." Before you could control it, you heaved a sigh, shoulders slouching. You hated when he made you do things on his terms. It felt way too controlling and you were beginning to get sick of it. His head snaps up at the sound you make, silence filling the room. You don't look at him, focusing your eyes on the desk in front of you.

"We can take a ten minute break."

He closes the textbook and runs a hand through his hair. "Sorry. I guess I just got a little too deep into the material for a second." He awkwardly smiles, expecting you to respond. But you don't say anything in return. He hesitates, but eventually looks over at you, watching you scroll on your phone. He didn't like your silence. He usually can correctly predict you filling in the silence whenever you feel like you have to. But now, you aren't really responding to anything he's saying and he doesn't know what to do. "Did I do something wrong?"

You put your phone down and look over at him. "You've been pretty controlling lately." His heart drops at your words and he automatically sits up straighter. "W-well, I just....have been trying to make sure that you're on the right track recently. You know, with midterms coming up, responsibilities are-" "Okay, yeah. But you're not my parent or anything. We're both grown adults here." Your face is like stone, unmoving, stern and....intimidating. Armin clenches his jaw. Why are you looking at him like this? Talking to him like this? Is he not being a good lover friend?

More silence between the two of you fills the air. Armin's stomach begins to turn.

"....Sorry. I just want to look out for you. I didn't mean for it to come out any other way. I just...care. That's all." You purse your lips before returning to your phone. Armin averts his gaze and finds himself messing with his fingers. How long has he been doing that? He clenches his hands to attempt to hide his nervousness and stares down at the textbook on the table. This wasn't going to be a good look on him. How is he going to confess when you look at him like that? He's never gotten that from you before. Maybe it's something you two need to discuss later on. Yeah. He'll give this a few days to settle. And if it comes up again, he'll find a way to make it up to you. It just....can't happen now. Not when he's so close to getting you to be his.

The rest of the night passes with the usual routine. By the time you're done getting ready for bed, Armin finished dropping all of his things off at his dorm. He takes a deep breath, sitting on his bed. He needs to go to sleep. He lays down on his bed, on top of the covers, still fully clothed and an arm over his eyes. He's tired and completely drained from today. He needs to go to sleep. Images of you flash in his mind. You eating. Your enticing gaze. Your frown. Your pouting. Your smile. Your smell. He needs to go to sleep. He clenches his jaw, imagining holding you in a tight hug, your body molding perfectly into his, your warmth in his hands and the smell of you imprinting on his brain. Everyday, you remind him of why he's crazy over you and you don't even have to try too hard. He just wants you all to himself.

I need to go to sleep, he tells himself as he speeds towards your room again. He timed it perfectly last time. He knows your full night routine takes about forty minutes. And he surely spent every single one of those minutes thinking to himself how soft your lips taste and how your hands feel on him. His body feels numb, but fully functioning. Blood rushing through his veins, making him sweat at just the thought of you. He hates, absolutely despises, this side of himself. He feels like he lost control of his mind, letting his body tell the story every time he gets this way. He thought he stopped this habit over a month ago, but here he is, ready to see you again. He needs to see you. At least check that you're okay. That's just what he tells himself, but he knows he's only here because he wants a reason to stare at you.

There's a plain of grass behind the dorm building you live in. You're conveniently placed on the first floor, your window at the perfect height for Armin to peek in, and that's exactly where he is, peeking in past your blinds to your sleeping form. His breath fastens, but he tries to stay quiet in case he's too loud. He looks around to make sure no one is out here, but it's just grass and the moon shining down on him.

Fuck, you look so beautiful. That's the big shirt you always wear to sleep. He doesn't know if you have your sleep shorts on underneath the blanket, but that doesn't matter. No...it never took much. His hand sneaks down to the stiff bulge between his legs, eyes stuck on your form. This is wrong. He told himself it's wrong and he knows you'd absolutely hate him for this. But thinking about your eyes on him has him grabbing his hard-on through the pants.

Your hot breath on his neck, telling him he's all you can think about.

Promises of staying together until death tears you apart from each other.

He needs you to want him. He needs you to need him.

Sweat drips down his forehead and his eyebrows are knit together, eyes squeezed shut as he lets himself believe the dream. One hand on the cold wall, the other squeezing his throbbing cock. Fluid leaks from his tip, making the friction a little better than before. He imagines it's you touching him instead of his own hand and it makes his soft pants turn into soft whimpers. He wishes you saw him fucking his own hand just to let him into your room and hold you. He wishes you'd love him and let him love you the way you deserve. He wants nothing more than to just be with you and it aches that you can't see that he loves you.

He opens his eyes and peeks into your window again. Still asleep. But now you're facing his direction. There's those beautiful eyes. Those eyelashes, cheeks, lips and nose that he adores. Open your eyes please, he tells himself in his mind. He wants to see those eyes on him just once, knowing it'd ruin everything between the two of you. He wishes he was in your room again like last time. Being in the closet is so much more intimate than standing outside the window. He misses the smell of you and the sound of your snores. Fuck, he's close.

His knees can't hold up for longer and his thighs are wobbling. His hand tightly grips what it can of the wall and his eyes nearly roll when you shift again. His forehead rests against the wall as he spurts out onto the grass, whatever thought going on in his head melting away entirely. Little gasps leave his mouth as he drains himself, hand slowing down.

He sits there for a second to catch his breath. Silence and a cool breeze brings him back to Earth. He opens his eyes, dizzy. This should be the last time. But he doesn't seem to hold himself to the small promise when worst comes to worst. When he looks into your room again, you're not there anymore. He freezes, body rigid. Did you see him? Did he wake you up? Where did you go? He quickly pulls his pants back up and when he's about to leave, you still don't come back.

He takes his leave.

Today, you complain to him that you didn't really get rest last night. He can't get those words out of his mind. 'Yeah, I don't know, I just couldn't really stay asleep,' you said. It seems too convenient to him. He was paranoid the entire time you two ate. Every time he looks up at your face now, you seem to not really realize how important those words mean to him. The sun was beginning to go down by the time you two reach his dorm room to study. Time felt slow like he was anticipating something shitty to happen, but you didn't really seem to care about how he felt. He hopes it doesn't show on his face.

When you smile up at him, his face relaxes a little. You were talking to him more today. He feels bad because he hasn't really been speaking much. You ask him questions about your homework and he answers. You even cracked a joke, laughing at it yourself. It gets him to loosen up a little. You must've had a bad day yesterday. He hopes it doesn't get like that again.

He offers you a snack during the study break. You accept the granola bar and begins to snack on it. While you eat, he slips out of the room to go to the bathroom.

He walks down the hall, taking his time. His head is low as a few football players pass him, loud and disruptive. He watches them go into a dorm room, not really caring about how annoying they all are to everyone else on the floor. Armin opens the bathroom door, passing his reflection in the mirror. He isn't like them. Isn't as tall as them. Doesn't have their humor. Isn't muscular or anything. He's nerdy, talkative, and doesn't have anything going for him besides his obsession over you. He couldn't fix himself even if he wanted to. But he will do anything if it meant making your life as fulfilling as possible. You're his only hope. His air. His soon to be lover. He's gonna make it right. He has to.

When he comes back, you're back to your work, reading the textbook. He sits down next to you and skims to where he last was. It's silence for a little bit, then he feels your eyes on him. He slowly looks up, meeting your eyes. He gives you a small smile, expecting you to say something. But you just stare at him. His smile stops growing as he watches you stand up.

"Stand up."

He wants to say something, but goes against it, curiosity taking over his will to speak. He stands and looks over at you. You're staring through him. But it's not a stare he's used to. You look like you're looking to humiliate him or something. It makes his neck heat up.

"Is there something that you want to tell me?"

Armin has a million thoughts of all the pervy shit he did not too long ago and settles on shaking his head. "No...? Why? Is something wrong?" A scowl grows on your face at his answer. Does she know? The question flashes through his mind before he can stop it and his heart begins to race. Not now. You walk around to the other side of the desk to lean on his night stand by his bed. "Come over here."

He meets you by his night stand and runs one of his hands through his hair. "I-if something's wrong, please tell me. I don-" "Open this." You point at the top drawer. There's three. You just asked for the first one. His stomach drops at the realization. You looked through his shit. You know about your underwear in his drawer. You saw that he's a nasty fucking stalker that snuck into your room and used your clothes to get off. You hate him. You don't love him anymore.

Your eyebrow raised at his face. Armin is suddenly completely frozen and is staring at you with a disturbing expression you can't describe. You wave a hand in front of his face. It doesn't make him move or blink. You knew he was up to some shady shit. You step forward and that makes him move. "Armin, open it." He opens it. Regular school materials. Pencils. Tape. Sticky notes. A small, hand-sized notebook. You close the drawer.

"Open this one."

Everything he worked so hard for. Years and years of dealing with his own mental state, learning about how to handle himself before he approaches you. Patience got him this far only to ruin it for himself in the end. He doesn't feel so good. He feels sick. His head begins pounding. Armin shakes his head, his eyes glossy.

He sees the anger in your eyes. How long have you known? You go to open the drawer yourself, but his hand clutches yours with a strength you didn't know he had. The grip is too tight and it hurts. You turn your head. His eyes are wide open, veins poking out of his forehead and neck as he pants. "Don't." A surge of energy bursts through you as you snatch your hand away from him.

"I already fucking know what's in there, Armin. You think I'm stupid? All these months of you stalking me. Following me into my class, sitting in the back of a room like a fucking weirdo. Babying me all of the time. Treating me like your wife when I've never even seen you as anything more than a friend. You know, I tried." You begin to rant and Armin shakes his head as if that was going to stop the truth from pouring out of your lips.

"I really wanted this to work between us. But....you don't know how to be normal. I just wanted something normal, I wanted a normal college life, I wanted friends and to party on the weekends.....and do all of these fun things that would...make me feel like me. You just like having someone to control-"

"That's not true! I really do love you! I want you to be happy, just- just tell me whatever-" He gives you a desperate look, reaching his hands out to you even though you back away at every step he takes forward. "No, no, no. Not with you. I can't always be with you. Don't you understand that?" You looked like you were trying to keep piece of your patience and sanity together, and Armin wasn't any better.

"But I love you, Y/n." He closes the gap between you, a distance he dreamed of closing between the two of you. Your eyes widened, hopefully in realization and love, he thinks. His hands hold yours, you stare up at him while he looks down to you just like he always wished to. He ignores your shaking hands. "I've loved you for as long as i've known you. You- you make my heart beat. I think of you when I wake up and go to sleep. I make you meals in the morning, keeping you in mind. I want to wake up with you there and go to sleep with you in my arms. Everything I dream of at night can be with you because you complete me. You're all I need."

His face relaxed into a loving gaze. It looks so true, so real. You never watched a man's face go through emotions so quickly before. Never met someone so obsessed with someone he can't have. His heart skips a beat at every breath you take and you finally realize that the man you've allowed into your life is someone you were told about a million times. He's a stranger. A monster with delusions strong enough to kill reality. This isn't Armin Arlert. You don't know who this man is.

Silence.

It's okay, he thinks. It does take a second to process a love confession. His gaze goes down to your lips, waiting for a yes to come out.

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