#and you people know that. you know exactly where i’m vulnerable and you know how to attack it.

[transboykirito]

you people are fucking insane

#i know who this is btw they’ve made 4 blogs just to harass me after i block them #i was gonna end up crying myself to sleep tonight anyway so thank you for the material to help with that. #literally what’s the point. why do i do any of this. #why do i bother writing anything when it’s just going to be compared to someone else. #why do i bother editing when the fandom is dead except for harassing me. #who do i bother getting sober and getting clean and going through all of that bullshit. #why do i bother bending over backwards to be nice to people who send me this. and worse. #i’m not even posting the really bad ones i got tonight. that described my mutuals assaulting me in graphic detail. #people i love and care about and consider friends. who i already worry don’t actually like me. #i’ve spent all day stressing myself sick over the absolute terror of someone not loving me. and then this. #and you people know that. you know exactly where i’m vulnerable and you know how to attack it. #i’m done. i’m so fucking done. i can’t do this shit anymore.

[astraystayyh]

Volcano

pairing : han x reader. enemies to lovers. slow burn.

summary : you've never gotten along with han, your mutual prejudices ruining any prospect of friendship between you both. but you slowly realize that you are more similar than what you originally thought- your darkness recognizing his, and his light yearning for yours.

"I'll take care of you. It's rotten work. Not to me, not if it's you."

cw : depiction of a panic attack, minor injury, both reader and han say mean shit to each other, cursing, mention of alcohol, reader has she/her pronouns.

word count : 13.2k

a.n: highly recommend listening to "Let the light in" by Lana when Han starts playing it in the fic hehe feedback is highly appreciated as always <3

skz quotes series masterlist.

You remember being seven years old, sitting on the floor of your bedroom, while your mom brushed your hair. It was a late July night, a cold breeze swaying your white curtains, akin to the fluttering of a butterfly’s wing. Your eyes were slightly puffy, delicate red veins protruding the white of them. You had just finished watching a Disney movie- the Lion King; heavy sobs escaping your lips when Mufasa died.

There were still faint hiccups coursing through you, a slight shake in your hands as you fiddled with the hem of your shirt. Your mom brought you to her chest, her chin resting on your small shoulder blade. "You’re sensitive, my sweet girl" she had uttered, rubbing your arms soothingly.

It was the first time someone described you as such. You didn’t know what ‘sensitive’ entailed exactly, but it contained the word ‘sense’, so you assumed it was something good, a quality to be proud of you. You could sense, maybe more than others, maybe too deeply. That’s why you cried when you didn’t get a good grade, or when your friends left you alone in the park.

But you didn't mind back then. What was your heart made for if not to feel?

You should’ve paid more attention to the way your mom spoke, to the bittersweetness lingering in her tone. As if she knew exactly what it entailed to be sensitive- to have your heart overflow with delicate feelings for the rest of your life, with no safe destination to guard them in.

☄༄

You’ve forgotten the last time you cried in.

The tears are lodged inside your throat- you can clearly feel them, an uncomfortable weight sitting on your vocal cords, rendering them impossible to use.

You used to cry, freely, so much that you lost count of how much it happened. But you realized that every tear that escaped your eyes, made you vulnerable, weaker, in the hands of the people around you. Every tear that washed over you, only rendered you more transparent for everyone to peer at how they wounded your soul. 

So, you conditioned yourself to stop feeling as deeply, or at least to stop showing it. The sadness, the hurt, the anger were all stored within you; but your face remained placid, not betraying how you truly felt. You were like a pond, tranquil at the surface, raging from within.

But on days like this one, you miss the person you were. When the implications of being sensitive still haven’t weighed down on you. When you could get rid of your feelings in the essence of your tears. When you didn’t yet feel bad for feeling.

Chan's eyes are on you, as you type furiously on your laptop. Your vision is so blurry that you can no longer see your lit screen. But you’re afraid that if you pause then Chan would ask if you were okay, and you hated that question. Because you never truly knew the answer to it. Yes, you were okay. But you haven’t cried in six months and your friend didn’t greet you back this morning and you suddenly feel very small in a very large library.

"Hey," Chan taps your hand with his pen and you suck in a slight breath, before raising your head to meet his eyes. "Are you-" he starts but you’re quick to cut him off, knowing exactly where this was headed. "Did you answer question five? I’m stuck on what formula to use."

Chan raises a brow at you, and you blink repeatedly. His eyes travel to your feet tapping furiously against the floor, and he understands.

 "I'm still at number four," he finally says and you nod in relief. You’ve been close friends for a year and Chan has come to know you- he’s dropping the subject.

"Oh, and are you coming to the party tonight?" Chan asks, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He’s hosting it and there is hope twinkling in his eyes. You feel bad because you’re about to crush it.

"No, need to revise more for the upcoming test."

"Of course, you’ll still be buried in your books," a sarcastic voice quips up, and you stiffen inwardly. Han- one-third of 3racha, Chan’s self-made producing group, and the bane of your existence. You never liked who you were around Han, he brought out the worst in you. Made all your insecurities roar forward, plastered across your body in neon red.

He was friends with Chan, long before you came into the picture, back into their high school days when Han skipped a class and ended up in the same one as Chan’s. A genius, as everyone around you liked to call him. And they were right- excelling came easily to Han, in everything he ever did. Even tapping into each one of your tender nooks and crannies.

He knew how to expertly push your buttons, how to make his tone sound mocking, and taunting, but only to you. Because you were sensitive, and he knew it, finding it almost amusing to toy with you. 

You decide to stay silent because nothing good ever comes out of talking back to him. So, you bite your tongue, turning back to look at your screen. But Han’s elbow grazes your arm, as he leans a bit further into your face. "Come on, live a little, y/n. You’re missing out on the college experience," he makes a big show of opening his arms wide, a single red pen spinning between his fingers. "Quit being stuck up for one night." And it spins, and it spins, and it spins and something ugly inside you crumbles.

"I’m sorry I wasn’t born with a golden spoon shoved down my throat and I actually have to work for my future."

Han’s eyes widen at the raw animosity in your voice, before narrowing down promptly. He’s leaning onto your face again, and his tone is low and cold when he speaks again. "What did you just say to me?"

"Is it so hard to grasp that not everyone is as privileged as you? We can’t all afford to get wasted every fucking night and call it a life."

You’re being mean. This is the rudest you’ve ever been to someone else. You know that your reaction is disproportionate to what he said. But it isn’t just about this instant. It’s an amalgam of every moment Han made you feel small in, because you don’t go out as much as him, because you don’t understand as quickly as him. Taunts thrown your way under the guise of teasing, but you know better.

Still, guilt eats at you as your eyes lock with Chan’s. You should’ve stayed silent, as you’ve been diligently doing for the past year.

"How do you stand being her friend Chan? Is it out of pity?" Han muses, a pout pulling at his lips. You stare ahead as Han tsks lightly, before tapping your cheek with his pen, bringing your face back to him. "I think it is. Because isn’t she so fucking boring?"

Being near Han always makes you hyper-aware of things you never noticed before. Like how a breath has to travel from the depths of your body so you’d be able to release it, and how excruciatingly long it takes for you to draw in a new one. Because Han’s words are never harmless, no, they settle on the confines of your lungs, crushing down any bit of oxygen willing to leave you.

You've had enough.

"When you’re eighty, on your deathbed, and all alone. I hope you know that there is no one around to blame but yourself."

"Don’t cross the line, yn," Chan finally speaks and you scoff, as you get up to grab your things.

"What fucking line, Chan? So, he can insult me all day but as soon as I do it there is a line? Why are you taking his side?"

Chan stays silent and you chuckle dryly. "Of course, you are. You’re only friends with me out of pity after all."

"That’s not true-"

"Well, you didn’t deny it, did you Chan?"

"Yn, I-"

"Save it."

Han’s eyes are glossy as you take one final glance at him. But your heart’s bleeding too much for you to care about his minor cut.

☄༄

For how much time can a conversation haunt someone? Seventeen days, for your case. And you're still counting.

You have nit-picked your fight with Han in the library so much that it's driving you insane. His voice is drilled into your head- the coldness of it as he reeled back from the shock of your words, and then, the pure venom dripping from his tone, as he attacked you where it hurt the most. Chan.

Han chose his words carefully, stitched up the sentence perfectly to hurt you, to stick to your flesh like burnt skin, one that you peeled over and over, each time it threatened to scar.

You haven't talked to Chan in seventeen days. He tried to stop you; on your way out of class, in the line of your campus cafeteria, on the doorsteps of your dorm. But you always fleet away. His eyes were also imprinted into your brain- the disappointment in them when you clapped back at Han.

What about him? You wanted to yell. Why are you only disappointed in me?

But the tears in your pillow have dried. Then fallen again. Then dried once more. And you found the answer to question five. And you miss Chan, terribly so.

That's why you're pacing around his dorm, at 10 pm, when it's also terribly cold outside. Your fingers have gone numb from the ministrations of the wind, but you don't move from your place. You know that the chances of seeing Han- the second person you’ve been avoiding like the plague- would be higher here. But you didn't care anymore.

Your thumb hovers over the call button and you bite your lip harshly. Would Chan pick up? Would he hang up? Was he really your friend out of pity?

"Yn?" a voice calls out, and you startle, turning around to see who it is. Changbin, carrying two bags of groceries in his hand. He's Chan’s friend as well, the final member of 3racha. You like Changbin. He's always being very kind to you. You've grown much closer to him than to Han in the past few months; not that the latter has ever wanted a friendship with you. From the day you met and his eyes narrowed promptly each time you talked. You should’ve known from the start.

"Why are you out here in the cold?" Changbin asks gently, stepping cautiously towards you.

"Chan," you say simply and he nods, understanding what you mean.

"He's not here now, but he'll come home soon. Let's go inside, okay?" he smiles tentatively at you and you hum in reply.

Changbin opens the door and you follow inside. You help him take out the groceries silently, stacking them in their fridge and shelves. Lots of protein powder, and chicken packets. You'd laugh about it if you weren't so sad.

"Chan misses you," Changbin speaks up suddenly, and your heartbeat quickens at his words.

"I miss him too."

"Then you'll be okay."

You try to remember Changbin’s reassuring smile when Chan finally opens the door to the dorm, an hour later. He finds you sitting on the stool in the kitchen. His eyes light up once they settle on you.

And you unravel at the sight.

You're crying, sobs rippling from you as he brings you to his chest. He's patting your head and whispering that it's okay. And you know his shirt is all crumpled from clutching it in your hands. But he doesn't mind. He only hugs you tighter.

"I'm sorry, yn. So, so, sorry. I should've stopped him before, I just... You two are my best friends and I didn't want to add fuel to the fire by talking and-"

"It's okay, it's okay, I'm the one who should apologize for ghosting you."

"I understand why you did it. I fucked up but I missed you so much. Can we please never do this again?”

“Yes please,” you giggle, but the sound withers as the door opens once again.

"What is she doing here?" a cold voice breaks you and Chan apart, as your eyes land on Han. His gaze sucks the breath out of you, and the warmth in your heart fizzles out. Your hold on Chan’s shirt tightens and he takes an unconscious step in front of your body. Han doesn't miss the protective gesture.

"Get out, yn."

"You don't get to kick my friends out of my house," Chan is angry. And you regret ever coming here.

"Last I checked it's my house too." Han doesn't even bother looking at you. He's holding Chan’s gaze as if they're silently communicating. "You know damn well what she said why-" he takes a deep breath, running a hand angrily through his hair. "Fuck this. If she's not leaving then I am."

And with that he storms out, slamming the door behind him. You flinch at the sound.

Chan’s eyebrows are knitted as he stares at where Han stood seconds ago as if trying to conjure him up once again. You never wanted to strain their friendship. You knew how much Han cared for Chan, even if he didn't bear the same sentiment for you.

"Chan, I’ll leave. Call Han and tell him I'm gone."

"You don't have to."

"I know," you reassure, placing your hand on his forearm. "We'll talk more later, okay? It's cold and he has nowhere to go. Just call him, please."

"Fine," Chan concedes. "Call me when you get home, alright?" his eyes finally soften and you squeeze his hand in reply, before heading out as well.

The walk from Chan’s dorm to yours is fairly short, but tonight, it seems like kilometers are separating you from the safety of your bed. There is a heavy weight crushing your bones, most of it being guilt at what just transpired between Chan and Han.

That's what comes with being sensitive- you bear the weight of your feelings and the one of those surrounding you.

Were you out of place with what you said to Han? Yes. Was it eating you inside to see the consequences of your words? Yes. But he was also to blame, you repeated in your head. He was also to blame. Please. You plead, you don't know to whom, maybe to the voice in your head to stop being so mean. 'But none of this would've happened if you weren't so sensitive. So easy to bruise' the voice mocks and you stumble on your feet.

It happens so suddenly it takes you off guard- the way the breath is knocked out of you. You pause, chest heaving as you bend down slightly. Your hand is on your heart as you try to breathe again, but it's shaking so much. Your legs give out under you, and you plop down on the floor, eyes tightly shut. You can't breathe. You can't breathe. You're going to pass out.

"Yn, what-" A hand rests on your shoulder but you shake it off. You don't want to be touched. Not by him.

"Let me help-" Han speaks again, and you scramble away from him, as best as you can anyway. You end up kneeling on the ground once again, your back to him. "Get-get away."

"I know you're mad but you aren't okay and I know how horrib-"

"You aren't helping!" you shout through tears, as your heart threatens to spill out of your throat. "You’ve hurt me e-enough already."

You don't remember how you got home that night, how you managed to open the door or cross the road leading to your dorm. But you remember Han leaving you on the cold ground, just like you wanted. You remember the ache in your bones as you laid on your bed; the burning desire to stop feeling for a night, to cut your chest open and tear off your bleeding heart.

☄༄

One month later

If there's one thing you've always complained to Chan about, it's the fact that his building had an elevator in it, unlike yours.

Today, you’ve come to regret this fact. Tremendously.

You’ve been avoiding going to Chan’s dorm for the past weeks since the last thing you wanted was to see Han. But, he insisted on you coming over, reassuring you that it would only be him and Changbin at home since Han supposedly had other plans.

Well, Chan was wrong. Because Han just walked into the elevator you are in, mere moments before its doors closed.

Your breath catches in your throat as his eyes lock on yours. He looks like he wants to say something but he decides against it, opting for sighing loudly instead, before pressing the button leading to the fourth floor, rather harshly.

Your need to flee has never been this strong.

You watch anxiously as the numbers slowly go up. 1… 2… 3… Then a loud voice startles you and the elevator starts to shake in place. The door is suddenly opened and you are met with a cement wall, blocking your exit.

"What the fuck?" Han groans as you press the emergency button repeatedly, hoping that the elevator will resume its course and this nightmare will be forgotten.

It doesn’t.

"You’re going to break the goddamn button," Han pushes your hand away and you stumble away from him.

"Can you shut up? I’m not in the mood for your bullshit."

"Does it look like I’m happy to be here?" Han scoffs, as a ringtone plays in the elevator, cutting you off before you could respond. 

"Hey guys, this happens from time to time, so no need to worry. Is everyone alright?" Someone speaks and you assume it's the worker charged with the maintenance of the elevator.

"Yes," you both reply at the same time.

"Great. We’ve contacted the mechanics but they said there’s a lot of traffic, so it might take a bit longer for them to get here."

"How long?" Han asks the question that’s on your mind as well.

"Two hours, at most, for you to get out."

"Oh, for fuck’s sake," you groan, as hot tears prickle at the corner of your eyes. This is the last thing you needed today- to be stuck in a cramped-up space with the one person who sucks the oxygen out of any room you’re in.

"Thanks, man," Han sighs and you turn your back to him, facing the wall. You’ve had a horrible day, scratch that, a horrible week. Hanging out with Chan and Changbin was the one thing you were looking forward to, only for the worst possible scenario to happen- being stuck in the same place with Han. You feel an urgent need to sob but you can’t cry in front of him. Not when he’s all claws and your skin is tender.

"Wait, are you claustrophobic?" He suddenly asks, seemingly inches away from your body.

"As if you’d fucking care," you scoff, before heading to a corner of the elevator and settling down.

"I'm not a monster, you know," he mutters in an almost sad tone, one that forces you to look up at him. His hands are deep into his pockets, eyebrows knitted as he gazes down at you. "Do you really think I’m that much of an asshole?"

"Yes," you reply instantly, before staring forward again. The hurt that flashes in his eyes shouldn’t tug at your heartstrings, but it does, ever so faintly, like the last wave that grazes your feet as you get out of the ocean. "I’m not claustrophobic," you add after a while and Han finally sits on the opposite side from you.

It’s hot and stuffy in the elevator, and it’s quiet, too quiet for your liking. You’ve never really liked silence for too long, it made the small voice in your head only grow bolder, louder, impossible to ignore.

Thirty-five excruciatingly long minutes go by and the tension only grows more suffocating. It’s simmering, barely beneath the surface, waiting for the person who will finally make it explode. 

It’s Han.

“Can I ask you something?”

“No.”

“Come on, we have nothing else to do.”

“Have you tried being silent?”

"Yn," he says sternly and you begrudgingly concede. "Fine. Ask me."

You imagine him smirking slightly, the way he does each time he manages to push you over the edge.

“Why do you hate me so much?”

“We’re not doing this right now,” you shake your head, tone adamant.

"When’s a better time for it? We’re literally never in the same place."

“And whose fault that is?” You smile too sarcastically and he frowns. “So, I’m the only one to blame?”

“Can’t you see how full of yourself you are? Fuck, Han, this is exactly what I hate about you.”

“What are you even talking about?”

“You’re so immature, you never sit back to think of how your words might impact someone.”

"What words yn? I was teasing you!" his voice grows louder and so does yours. "You were hurting me!" you yell, chest heaving. There is something utterly terrifying in this confession- to let someone know how easy it was for them to get to you.

"But I didn’t mean to," he drags a hand through his hair, exasperated. "It's not my fault you felt that way."

An ironic chuckle leaves your lips, as you point at him. "See, you're doing it again! You're blaming me for my reaction instead of evaluating how your actions might have caused it."

"Look, yn," he scrambles to you until there are only a few centimeters separating your bodies. "I really wanna fix this, okay? Can we stop screaming?"

"Why are you so hellbent on fixing it?" you question, as you lean further away from him. He notices and takes a step back, giving you space.

"Because although I don't care about you, I care about Chan. And this is hurting him. So, I want to be civil with you."

The mention of Chan feels like a cold bucket of water dousing the fire within you. You know he’s struggling to be in the middle of two people he loves. He doesn’t deserve that.

"Fine," you sigh softly. “You talk. I’ll listen.”

"I didn't... I didn't know that my words would hurt you. In truth, it looked like you weren't affected at all. That's why I kept pushing you because… God Yn you're so perfect it maddens me."

Your eyebrows knit together at his words- the last thing you expected to stumble out of his mouth. "What are you talking about?"

"You never get sad, never get angry. Your emotions are always in check. You're always smiling, always laughing. Have everything figured out from how you want to be now to where you want to be in the future. And you know yourself, you never step out of order. And this is selfish and stupid but it irked me. Because I am the opposite of you. I'm a mess and too human it terrifies me, so I wanted to see if you had a breaking point. But each time I taunted you, you remained placid. So, I kept pushing to see if you'd break one day because, selfishly enough, that would make me feel better about how broken I am."

"Han, you're so stupid. Aren't you a literal genius? You excel in everything you do and you have fun on top of it, every single night. Don't you realize how lucky you are?"

"Do you really believe I find joy in being wasted and not even remembering what happened that night? I do that because I'm in my mind most of the days and it isn't the best place to be in. So, I like to forget."

“Why do you think I always bury myself in my studies? Because it's safe and it makes me forget too. Did you really think I didn’t feel? I feel too much and that’s the problem.”

Han remains silent as you curse under your breath. "Do you even realize how selfish this is? To test a human's breaking point? All because what? I didn't shove my struggles down your nose? Would you go around and do this to everyone who looked fine to you?"

"I know, I know, I was just in a bad place, and this isn't an excuse but I... I felt as if you were just showing me everything that was wrong with me."

"That is how I felt around you," you chuckle bitterly and he hangs his head low. He’s much quieter when he speaks again. “I guess we’re more similar than I thought.”

"Doesn't excuse what you did. You targeted me and made me feel insane because no one was hearing the hostility in your tone like I did."

"I know, I know. I'm sorry. I really am. I never thought it'd get this bad and I deserve every name you called me."

"You do." You close your eyes, as Han’s words wash over you. There is so much more you want to say, so much you want to spit out in his face because of his selfish coping mechanism. But you also want peace, for Chan’s sake. So, you try to bury your resentment, just like you do with every other feeling. One day it’ll turn into indifference. You’ll make sure of it.

You bite your lip, before clearing your throat. Your tone is softer when you speak again. "I'm sorry for what I told you in the library. About you dying alone and whatnot. That wasn't nice of me."

"You really hit the nail with that one," Han chuckles quietly, and guilt floods your heart at the expression on his face. "And I'm sorry for calling you boring. You aren't. And for everything I said before that."

"Okay. It's okay." You reassure, a tiny smile drawn on your lips.

He nods before a sly grin grows on his face. "Should we hug it out?" he teases, cocking an eyebrow at you and you stare pointedly at him. "Don't push your luck."

"Yes, ma'am."

An hour later, the mechanics finally manage to get the elevator going, which in turn allows you both to get out. Han opens the door to the dorm, and you find Chan lying on the couch, scrolling down his phone.

"Han? I thought you would..." he starts before trailing off as he looks up. "Yn? Where were you, I’ve been calling you for the past two hours."

"I didn't have signal."

"Why where were-" Chan goes to question before stopping once again. He hurriedly stands up and walks toward you.

"You... Are standing next to one another."

"We are," Han replies, glancing at you from the corner of his eye.

"And you aren't... Fighting?" his statement comes out more like a question, which makes both you and Han chuckle.

"We aren't."

"We talked it out, in the elevator which we were both just stuck in," you add and Chan’s eyes grow wide, as a breathtaking smile breaks out on his face.

"Oh my god. Finally. We'll talk about the elevator bit later but it's been so hard trying not to be in the same place as the both of you."

"We know. We're sorry," you both pout in sync and Chan shakes his head, before opening his arms wide. You giggle, before walking to him and sinking into his embrace. Han follows you shortly after, and your eyes meet behind Chan’s back. He shoots you a tiny thumbs up.

Is this how a dandelion feels, you wonder, when someone blows on it in the hopes it'll grant their selfish wishes. Only to be tossed away afterward, lifeless.

You drown out the thought before smiling back at Han. It doesn’t reach your eyes.

☄༄

Befriending two-thirds of 3racha holds within it a lot of privileges. The first one is listening to unreleased music, the second is having exclusive insight into their upcoming performances.

Their gigs don't happen as often as they'd like, because they're still students who unfortunately have lots of assignments. But when a window of free time materializes, they unveil their latest productions at vibrant parties, dimly lit bars, or even the occasional club. Which attracts a lot of people, some even coming from neighboring towns to listen to them play.

Everyone can recognize raw talent, even if rap doesn't happen to be their favorite genre.

This is how you know that they'll be performing Heyday, their latest creation, at Seungmin’s party. You've met him in passing, and Chan insisted that you'd come. Not that you needed much convincing anyway, you fell in love with this song the minute you heard it.

There is an exhilarating energy in Seungmin’s mansion, a palpable anticipation preceding 3racha’s performance, as you all gaze at the makeshift stage. The place is packed, bodies pressed tightly to one another. You feel slightly uncomfortable but you swallow it down. You're here to support Chan first and foremost, you can leave if things become too much for you.

The introductory chords materialize abruptly, and 3racha takes the stage. Chan is clad in a white shirt with huge gaps on his sides, revealing glimpses of his chest each time he bends down. Changbin, on the opposite end of the spectrum, is wearing a tightly fitted black shirt, hugging each muscle of his to perfection. Han, the last one to walk in, sports a loose black shirt, with a low neckline. His nails are painted to match the color of his attire, you notice.

The song kicks off with Changbin's incendiary rap as deafening cheers ring all around you. You make sure to scream on top of your lungs too, as Changbin’s loud voice commands the attention of everyone in the room. You’ve always held a penchant for his rap style- how powerful he sounds, and how addicted you quickly become to hearing him on stage. You remember once telling him that any song that starts with his rapping is a successful hit. He playfully nudged your shoulder but his appreciative smile was hard to miss.

Chan’s part is next and you try to rap along, as best as you can anyway due to your fleeting memory. It sounds mostly like gibberish but you don’t mind, especially when your eyes meet Chan’s and he grins at you, before morphing into the mesmerizing stage persona that's peculiar to him. You clearly remember the first time you witnessed him on stage, and how enthralled you were by the sheer power he exuded. His destiny was intertwined with music, no one could deny that. 

A bed squeaking sound comes next, followed by the knocking on the door and you giggle against your will. That was Han’s ingenious touch, as Chan had shared when you'd raised a quizzical brow at him while listening. “Is this based on a real-life experience?” You asked, a knowing smirk etched upon your features, and he pretended to zip his mouth, earlobes turning a vibrant shade of crimson.

Han finally starts rapping in his inimitable style, exuding an effortless, laid-back aura. Your gazes meet at the "let's go play" line, and he tilts his head quizzically at you as he utters his confused "huh?". You raise one eyebrow at him prompting a sly smirk from him, before redirecting his attention to the opposite side of the stage. Yet, your eyes remain on him throughout his entire part.

The boys step off the stage, and you watch from the corner of the room with a wide grin as a swarm of people surrounds them. Congratulations and praise fill the air, and you can tell that 3racha thrives on this moment- it's what they live for, what makes their souls rise up from the ashes. 

Chan catches your eye, and you applaud enthusiastically, letting out a happy giggle. He blows you a kiss, and you playfully pretend to catch it, eliciting a small shake of his head. Changbin, who's standing near him, catches the exchange and winks at you from a distance, to which you respond with two thumbs up.

Even though you're a bit far from them, you're certain the boys can sense the pride radiating from you in waves. There's something truly magical about humans existing in their element, particularly people you care about.

Your gaze shifts to Han, and your smile falters slightly. He's also glowing, but signs of discomfort are starting to creep onto his face. You recognize them fairly well, as you've felt them too at times when emotions become overwhelming. So, after a brief internal debate, you decide to act and begin making your way toward him, pushing through the crowd despite the rising complaints behind you.

They fall on deaf ears.

You grab Han's forearm, pulling him with you through the sea of bodies toward the bathroom. He doesn't fight, following diligently behind you. You open the door and pull him inside, pausing as you realize you don't have a specific plan for bringing him here. This is also the first time you've been alone together since the elevator conversation.

"Thank you," Han whispers, and you nod, your eyes softening. "I'm okay, I love performing, I just needed a breather," he quickly adds, as if feeling guilty for being overwhelmed. 

"That's completely understandable. You are running on a lot of adrenaline, and the room is so crowded," you say with a smile, turning to the mirror to touch up your makeup.

Han remains silent for a while as you powder your face, before reapplying your cherry lip gloss. You can hear him taking in deep breaths, and you avoid looking at him, worried he might feel embarrassed.

"What did you think of the performance?" he finally asks, and you raise your head slightly. You lock eyes with him through the mirror, as he leans against the door, arms crossed in front of his chest. His black t-shirt falls a bit, revealing more of his bare skin, and your eyes trail down for a moment.

"It was really good. I think this song might be my favorite of all yours."

"Really?" Han grins, his words filled with an excitement that warms your heart despite yourself. He's just received heaps of compliments from hundreds of people, yet your words still seem to affect him deeply.

"Yes. I loved your rap, how it started in a laid-back manner, and then you cleared your throat and picked up the pace. It added a unique edge to the song."

"Thank you, really," his smile is genuine, and you giggle softly, shaking your head.

"What's funny?" he asks, walking up to you. You're still facing the mirror, and he's now only inches away from you.

"I didn't imagine you'd appreciate my compliment this much."

"It feels sincere," he shrugs and you nod, finally turning around and leaning against the sink.

"It is sincere."

"Good."

You hold his gaze, eyes only trailing down to go across his face. He looks far different from how he did on stage. Shier, more eager for praise.

"You have..." he steps up until the scent of his cologne tickles your nose. His hand raises ever so slowly to your face, and you hold your breath, as he picks up something from your cheek. His hands are warm.

"An eyelash fell. Make a wish."

A surprised chuckle escapes your lips. "You wish on fallen lashes?"

"You wish on everything when you need hope." his voice is low, a timber so foreign to your ears it sends shivers down your spine. So, you close your eyes, wishing for your heart to quit beating so fast.

"Done," you whisper and he blows the single lash away, his gaze still on you.

"Thank you for coming."

"Of course. I had to support Chan and Changbin." It slips from your mouth before you can stop it, and Han slightly recoils from your words.

"Right, them. Yeah. Of course," he finally backs away, and oxygen fills your lungs once again. "I'm good now. Should we go out?"

"After you," you nod tightly and he walks ahead first, his perfume trailing after him and pulling you into a dizzying dance. 

☄༄

The party Seungmin hosted was your last time having fun for a while. Your preparation for midterm exams began soon after, and you found yourself swarmed with assignments left and right. Thankfully, you and Chan were going through it at the same time, which meant you met at the library each day, revising silently near one another.

Except this time, you were joined by Han.

Goosebumps ran across your skin as he pulled the chair next to you, not the good kind of shivers. You were reminded of the fight you had right here, three months ago. Which still left a bitter taste in your mouth.

You don't hate Han anymore. He's actually funny, and you enjoy listening to his ramblings when you go over to Chan's dorm. He's also really different in his home, much quieter, and softer. Much more like you.

But you're also human, and there is still a part of your brain sending off warning signals at his presence. Maybe because the hurt was never buried properly. You just brushed it off under the carpet after your elevator conversation. Most of it was spent shouting anyway.

"Hey," he greets and you just nod in reply. You can feel his gaze linger on you a bit after that, and a pang of guilt twists in your heart. "Hi," you finally reply, but you tune out his response. Why is it that you're sensitive to everyone's emotions but your own?

Twenty minutes go by, then forty, and you can no longer take the uncomfortable feeling clinging to your skin. So, you excuse yourself, hurriedly stepping out of the library.

Han follows you; you can tell it’s him because someone's chair scraped loudly against the floor as soon as you stood up, and that couldn't be Chan because he is always careful with the silence in the library. So, you put on your headphones and walk faster.

This is childish, surely it is, but you can't control your emotions. You've apologized and so did he, you talk from time to time and you even held his arm and took him to a quiet bathroom. So where is all this bitterness coming from?

"Dammit, yn, how are you so fast?" Han grabs your arm pausing you. He's panting slightly and you just blankly stare as he takes in a deep breath.

"Are you okay?" he finally asks and you nod, turning around to walk away. He stops you again.

"I made you uncomfortable, didn't I?" he asks quietly, and you sigh, rubbing your forehead wearily.

"You didn't do anything, I just... Being in that library reminded me of certain things."

"I know. Me too. Can we please talk?"

"We are talking," you raise your brows and he stares pointedly at you. "Come on you know what I mean."

"Fine," you giggle, "we can talk."

"I didn't apologize properly to you in the elevator. Truth is, I did it because Chan was mad at me and I couldn't stand it anymore."

The bitterness- you understand where it comes from now.

"But I am sorry. Truly sorry. I was selfish and I hurt you and this will sound like a joke, but I hate hurting people. I really do. I was just too wrapped up in my problems that I didn't realize how it would affect you and I'm sorry, I'm really sorry. I also shouldn't have tried to kick you out that day, but dying alone is my biggest fear, and seeing you in my home made me want to lose my mind because I couldn't get what you said out of my head, but it was so cold outside and again I shouldn't have told you to go out and I am so sorry-"

"Han, breathe," you smile, cutting him off and Han sucks in a deep breath, chest slightly heaving from talking uninterrupted for a minute straight.

"I'm sorry I just wanted to apologize, properly this time. I'm doing it because I'm guilty, not because of Chan. Nothing excuses my behavior, I know. And I wish I could turn back in time and actually get to know you because you're really cool and very nice, but I can't. All I can do is apologize. So I'm sorry, Yn. I really am."

"I appreciate it," you smile, and Han exhales a little from relief. "I didn't know that was your biggest fear, but even if it wasn't, that was uncalled for. I shouldn't have said something so mean. So, I'm sorry for it too. But I'm not apologizing for being mad, you deserved that."

"I did, I did, I know." He's quick to agree. "I don't want us to be awkward around one another. I'm not telling you that you have to be my best friend but, we can be friends, right? But you also don't have to. It's enough if you forgive me and... You know what? Never mind forget I said anything, I'm just nervous and-"

"Okay."

"Okay?" he repeats.

"We can be friends. I accept your truthful apology."

"Actually?"

"Yes."

"Like we can start over?" he grins and you chuckle at the excitement in his face. "Yes."

"Can we hug it out?"

"Too soon," you pout and he nods, a faint blush dusting his cheek.

"Right. Should we go back to the library? I saw that you were stuck on a question. I can help you."

"You won't make any comments?"

"No. Pinky promise." he outstretches his pinky towards you and you muse over it for a bit, before wrapping your finger around his. You grin at Han- your first genuine smile since he's known you. His hold on your pinky falters.

"Okay. I'm in."

.☄༄

Five weeks later- 1:13 a.m.

You were still slightly cautious near Han as if you were both threading along an invisible line. You could talk, but not too much, afraid any old animosity would shine through. And you could stay together, but not too long, in case it gets awkward and you wouldn't know what to do. So, you never mixed, just like water and oil, each of you knowing their place, away from the other.

But you still didn't want to miss out on outings with your friends. So, when Chan invites you for a movie night with Han, and Changbin, you don't say no.

The night runs smoothly, the warm beer you had easing your nerves bit by bit. It was also easier to forget that you once hated Han when he brought tears to your eyes from laughing so hard.

2:56 a.m.

An unbearable heat suddenly envelopes you, your very blood boiling from within. You hesitantly look down, to find your entire body bathed in red, as if your skin had melted away, exposing you to the scorching heat embracing your tender flesh.

You are in the heart of a volcano, with lava bubbling dangerously below. Hanging by a frail thread, you dangle over the edge of death.

And then, you plummet. 

You startle awake, your heart pounding in your chest, your hand clutching it tightly. Cold sweat clings to your skin, and it takes you a few moments to realize that you're safe, far from the inside of the volcano that had threatened to consume you.

You glance at your phone- 3:43 a.m. You read. It's only been a mere hour since you went to sleep. You don't think you could drift back into slumber. 

Dragging a hand tiredly across your face, you walk into the pitch-black kitchen. You pour yourself a glass of water, hoping that the icy drink will cool you down. You are safe.

"What are you-" you startle, dropping the glass and spinning around, hand pressed to your heart.

"Han, fuck, you scared me," you sigh, tugging at your hair slightly and he's quick to your side, a string of hushed apologies tumbling from his lips.

"I'm sorry, here let me clean it up," he kneels and you follow suit, grabbing his hands and gently pushing them away. "No, I dropped it, let me clean," you reassure, but your hands are trembling as you pick up the shards of glass, any bit of logic clouded by your racing thoughts.

Your heartbeat's ringing loudly in your ears, you barely register the glass cutting your skin until an uncharacteristic warmth oozes from your hand. Blood.

"Shit," you curse lowly and Han illuminates the place with his phone flashlight. "Did you cut yourself?" he asks and you shake your head, walking over to the sink.

"It's nothing, don't worry."

"Yn, let me see," he's standing behind you, the ghost of his breath grazing your exposed neck.

"Han, really it's-" he cuts you off, grabbing your forearm and walking you over to the couch. He finally turns on the lights before crouching down in front of you.

"Show me?" he asks gently and you're too tired to fight him. You open your palm tentatively, taking a look at your cut for the first time as well. It's not too deep, it won't require stitches. But it's also not shallow, blood oozing from it at a steady rhythm.

Han simply frowns upon gazing at your wound, before walking over to his room. You don't move from your spot, gaze lost into the space before you. What would happen if you never woke up? Would you feel your flesh burning? Bones melting as the searing lava-

"Here," he gently holds your wrist, as his eyes meet yours. "This will hurt a bit. Hold my arm as tight as you want and tell me if it becomes too much, okay?"

"Okay," you simply nod.

He dabs up your cut with a cotton pad soaked in alcohol. You hiss softly, as the liquid burns your open skin. Han abruptly stops at the sound. "Did I hurt you? I'm so sorry I didn't mean to I just-"

"It's okay," you smile reassuringly, "I can handle it."

Han nods, resuming his treatment. He's even softer this time, if that is even possible. He's careful when he rubs a soothing gel on your cut, before wrapping your palm in a gauze. He can't find a pair of scissors so he cuts it with his teeth, his lips brushing against the back of your hand. You account the warmth you're suddenly feeling to the aftermath of your nightmare.

"Why are you even up?" he finally asks as he settles next to you on the couch, eyes looking up to the ceiling.

"Nightmare."

"You’re okay?" he asks gently and he sounds truly concerned for your well-being. You aren't used to this. To Han acting like a friend to you. But it feels nice to be cared for, so you don't mind him blurring the lines tonight.

"I'm still a little bit scared," you admit sheepishly and Han's eyes soften under the dim moonlight.

"It passed. You're okay now."

"Am I?" you drag a hand tiredly across your face and Han frowns, inching closer to you.

"Is it a recurring dream?"

"Mm. It tires me out."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"No, I just want to forget." 'Help me forget' you want to add, but you decide against it. "Why were you up, anyway?"

"I got inspiration for lyrics so I had to write it down."

"Can you share some with me?" you ask, tone a tad too hopeful. Han catches it and smiles warmly at you.

"Sure. This is probably going to be in the chorus..." he pulls out his phone, heading to his notes app. "This is what I have so far... I let my frustrated screams out hoping that they’d be washed away in the rain. I send it off with a smiling face, down to the last drops left on my fingertips." he pauses, scrolling down a bit more. "I also wrote this; I think it'll be nice in a verse... I’m sure it’ll get better... Just like the earth hardens after the rain and flowers bloom again."

"You're such a talented lyricist Han," you whisper in awe, and Han’s cheeks warm up at your words, reminiscent of a setting sun. "But I also wish it was as easy as this. To let out all the emotions you bottle inside and for them to wash away with the rain." You bite your lip, as Han’s words echo in your head. "I think... I think that's why I get this nightmare. I don't free my emotions anymore, and they show up in my dreams to torment me."

You don't know where these bouts of honesty are coming from. Maybe because you're too weary to keep up a happy facade. Or maybe because you know that the person who wrote these lyrics must understand exactly how you feel.

"Well... It's raining." Han whispers after a while and you look at him, confusion plastered across your features.

"And?"

"Should we test it out?"

"Test what?"

"Screaming under the rain," he says as if it's the most evident thing in the world.

"What? That's insane, Han we will get sick and..." You pause, as the words dissolve in your mouth like the seafoam meeting the shore. "You know what? Let's do it!"

"Really?" he asks incredulously, a huge grin on his face.

"Yes!"

"Okay, let's go!"

You both abruptly stand up, still only clad in your pajamas. You quickly slip your shoes on before running outside. The rain envelops you in a cold hug as soon as you step outside, rain droplets trickling down your clothes. You don't mind, you have lots of bottled-up feelings to free. 

"This needs music," Han smiles as he takes out his phone, putting his playlist on shuffle. 'Let The Light In' starts playing, and you shoot him a thumbs-up.

"It fits the rainy mood," you grin and he nods, squinting his eyes to be able to look at you.

"I think if we scream here, we'll scare the neighbors."

"I know!" you chuckle, wiping away the rain droplets on your forehead. "Where should we go?"

"The empty parking lot!" Han shouts so you'll hear him over the growing rain and you nod. He takes off running and you chase after him. You're both completely drenched once you're a bit far away from the house. But you don't care. Not when there is pure adrenaline rushing through you.

You finally stop, loud giggles escaping your mouth at the thrill of what you're doing. "You should start!" you yell excitedly and Han nods, taking in deep steadying breaths.

"Okay, I'm ready!"

"On the count of three! One... Two... Three!" and Han shouts at the top of his lungs, his screams getting lost in the rain. An incredulous smile breaks out on his face as you giggle loudly, the sound of it ringing out in the downpour.

"You looked insane!"

"I feel insane!" He yells honestly and a fit of laughter takes over you both. You hold his arm to steady yourself. 

"You should try it now!" Han urges and you nod, willing yourself to calm down. 

"Okay, will you count down for me?" 

"Yes," he assures and you clap excitedly. Han can't help but smile at the excitement on your face.

"One... Two... Three!" And you shout, continuous screams spilling from the depths of your soul. Han wasn't wrong- your pain, your fear, your anger are all dripping along the rain droplets, from your bruised heart to the tip of your fingers.

You've never felt this free before.

The two of you don't notice the passage of time, the rain acting as a cathartic release to all your pent-up emotions. It was as if your pain intertwined with each rain droplet, and you were letting go of everything that had held you down. Each scream acted as a break from the burdens of the past, and the worries of the future. 

As you finally stopped, panting and soaked to the bone, you looked at each other with raw exhilaration in your eyes.

"So, how was it?" Han yells over the rain and you break out in a relieved smile. "I don't think I’ve ever been this happy my entire life," you beam at him and the sight makes the rain feel less colder to Han. 

He watches, a small smile on his face as you twirl around, face looking up toward the sky, a deluge of rain grazing your cheeks like a lover's tender touch. The smile doesn't leave your face as you spin around, happy chuckles leaving your mouth from time to time.

You look... free. As if there was an invisible weight on your shoulders that the rain washed away. A heavy burden that you carried within you, like a secret secret. He likes the sound of that. Maybe that's what he'll name his song. 

Han slightly shakes his head as he watches you skip around, clothes completely soaked. You are now standing a bit far away, right beside a street lamp.

Ooh, let the light in

Its light shines on you alone.

Time seems to slow down, as Han’s steps falter. You're smiling, not at him, but at the universe. A happiness so raw filling you that it needs to come out, even if no one's watching.

You're spinning around, delighted giggles spilling from you like the most mesmerizing chorus. Something is building up inside Han, begging for a release. It refuses to come out in a scream- violently. It's tender and soft. He thinks that if you held his hand right now, you'd be able to free it.

Look at us, you and I back at it again

Is it possible to feel something other than an emotion? Because right now, weirdly, all he feels is you.

Cause I love to love to love to love you

I hate to hate to hate to hate you

Your eyes land on Han and there is pure joy dancing in your pupils. He's glad you no longer despise him. He doesn't think he can stomach it anymore.

Cause I want to want to want to want you

You run to him, holding his hand before twirling him around.

I need to need to need to need you

Han can't believe he ever thought you weren't human enough. You are a mosaic of every feeling that makes one human. There are lyrics writing themselves in his head and they're all about you.

Ooh, let the light in

You clasp both his hands, before crossing them over. And then you're both spinning around until the world around you blurs. All he sees is you, and the light surrounding you alone.

Ooh, turn your light on

He thinks he might, if the light is you.

5:22 a.m

"There is a heater in my room, you should come," Han offers as you dry your hair with the blue towel he just handed you.

"It's okay I’ll stay here," you point to the couch but he shakes his head adamantly. "You'll die from hypothermia. Do you know how mad Chan will be if I let you pass away?" he whispers in fear, a hand clutching his heart.

"So dramatic," you giggle, before following him into his room. He goes on his bed first before tapping the spot beside him. You sigh before lying next to him, snuggling further into the hoodie he gave you to change.

"You're still shivering," he remarks, as your teeth clink together.

"It's okay."

"You shouldn't have gone out with just a t-shirt."

"I didn't exactly plan on this, you know," you smile sarcastically and Han chuckles before tapping your shoulder softly.

"Come closer."

You debate for a second before complying, the cold tuning out all the rational thoughts in your head. 

Your arm brushes against his and you can't breathe once again. But it's a different type of deprivation. Han always seems to steal the oxygen from your lungs, but for once, you don't mind. Red embers are burning within you and their flames keep you alive. You press your chest to his back, as your forehead rests on his shoulder. Maybe he'll turn you to ashes. Will you rise from them?

"You're so cold," his hand reaches behind to rub your arms soothingly, an earnest attempt to warm you up.

"I’ll be fine, go to sleep. Don't worry about me."

"I can't control it."

In the dark room, Han can't see you curling your hand into a tight fist at his words. 

"If you stay quiet then I’ll sleep," you say after a while and Han giggles softly.

"That's the goal. You need to rest."

"You should sleep too."

"I will."

"Okay. Good night, Han."

"Good night, Yn."

You think he's fallen asleep when you speak up again. "Hey, Han."

"Yes, Yn?" He replies instantly, voice slightly hoarse. 

"Can you repeat that lyric to me, about the flowers blooming again?" You ask quietly, and you feel him nodding against your chest.

"I’m sure it’ll get better... Just like the earth hardens after the rain and flowers bloom again."

His warm voice vibrates within your body. "That's a nice lyric."

"I hope you'll dream of it instead."

☄༄

Against Han’s strong belief, he's the one who fell sick after your rain-soaked outing. 

You knew of it from Chan, who texted you saying that Han caught a nasty cold, and then got food poisoning, which meant he couldn't be there for their highly anticipated meeting—after their electrifying Heyday performance, a record label expressed strong interest in signing them. 

"Can you come over and stay with Han?" Chan implores as soon as he answers your call.

“That bad?” You ask, a pout pulling at your lips.

"I don't want to leave him alone. He's been really sick for the past week now, and… it's partly your fault"

"I can’t believe you’re guilt-tripping me into coming," you chuckle even though you know he is right. Han wouldn’t have gotten out in the rain if it wasn’t for you.

"I'm sorry it’s just I don't think he's been good, apart from the illness. And I’m worried, and I don’t know I thought maybe you could talk to him. He reminds me of you, in his sadness, so you might understand what's wrong more than me."

You think it over for a second before rising up from your bed.

"I'm coming"

As soon as you step inside their dorm, Chan pulls you for a side hug, placing a quick kiss on your forehead. “Thank you so much,” he whispers, clearly grateful that you agreed to come. It worries you even more for Han.

“No problem. You can go, I’ll be with him.”

“Thank you, Yn” Changbin smiles before hastily pulling Chan outside the door. You wave them both goodbye.

You cautiously crack open the door to Han’s room, to find it completely engulfed in darkness. The stream of light from the door falls upon Han, who squints his eyes, trying to see who disrupted his fragile peace.

"Hi," you speak softly, finding it a bit odd to raise your voice in such a still room. Han attempts to sit up, before doubling over, hand tightly clutched around his stomach.

You rush to his side, kneeling beside his bed. It's the only lit-up part of the room.

"Still hurts?" you ask, your hand moving in soothing circles on his back. He nods, eyes squeezed shut, and you feel your heart crack at the sight.

"Have you taken any medicine?"

"A few hours ago. I need to eat something before I can take more, but I can't get up to the kitchen."

"Why didn't you tell the boys?"

"Didn't want to be a burden."

"You aren't. I'll make you something to eat. Okay? Try to sleep meanwhile."

"You don't have to," Han shakes his head, his eyes finally meeting yours.

"I know," you smile softly, before exiting the room.

Minutes later, you're back in the room, a bowl of sliced fruit in your hands.

"Do you guys live off protein powder and frozen chicken?" you ask, earning a quiet laugh from Han as he lays his back against the headboard.

"We do. Please save me," he jokes and you laugh, shaking your head. "Good thing I grabbed some fruit before leaving."

"Thank you," he grins, eyes slightly squinting closed. 

"Here," you grab a strawberry, bringing it to his lips. His eyebrows raise up in surprise, a sheen layer of sweat coating them. "What? Look at how tightly you're clutching the comforter," you point to his hands and Han sighs, before parting his lips slightly.

His mouth brushes against your fingertips, igniting a cascade of emotions in you. You'll think about what it means later.

You grab a green grape next, feeding it to him gently. A drop of water trickles down the corner of his mouth, and you wipe it away with the back of your finger.

"I can- I can do it," Han mumbles, voice wavering like an unpredictable storm. His trembling hands reach for the bowl, but they struggle to hold it right.

"Han, it's okay, I don't mind," you try to keep your voice gentle, sensing that there is an impending doom awaiting just below the surface.

"No, I- I need to do it. Just let me-" A tear falls into the fruit bowl. "Let me do it, please. I can- I can do it, I’m not useless, I…"

The floodgate opens.

A stream of tears escapes Han's eyes as he looks down at the bowl between his hands. He's crying, eyes tightly shut and the small whimpers escaping his lips feel like a dagger piercing your heart.

"You're sick. Let me take care of you."

"It's horrible horrible work." His voice cracks as his eyes finally lock on yours, and you can tell that his anguish isn't about his illness. These are the words of the shadows threatening to swallow him whole. You have to fight them off with the light.

"I will do it."

As Han lays on his bed, the sound of you washing the dishes resonating from the kitchen, your voice bounces off the dark walls in his head. You didn't try to convince him that it was easy work, you told him you'll do it, even if it's horrible. You'll do it because you want to, not because you can, not because it's accessible. The thought sends a warmth in his chest. It's faint, like a flickering candle trying its best to withstand the wind. But it's there. He holds on to it. He'll shield it with his cupped hands so it wouldn't fizzle out. 

"Hannie, you’re okay?" you peer into the room. Hannie- the candle's flame grows higher.

"Mm," he hums, too weak to turn and look at you.

"You're shivering," you remark, and he tightens the blanket around his body. "It'll pass."

You stay silent, and he thinks you've left the room. But then he feels the left side of the bed dip, with you climbing tentatively on it.

"This worked last time when I was cold," you smile softly at him, before bringing his head to your chest and wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He feels frail and fragile in your embrace. You hug him tighter to you.

"Warming up?" you ask and he nods against your chest. He's burning.

"Try to sleep," you urge quietly, your hand moving to pat his back. "It will pass."

"What if it doesn't?" Han asks faintly. Please don't let the candle die, he wants to plead.

"There is always light at the end of the tunnel."

"What if the tunnel is closed?"

"Then you go back to the start and find a new one," you respond.

"Can I find it later? I'm so tired tonight." His voice is drowsy, sleep already clinging to his achy bones. 

"Just rest for now. You did well," you scratch his back lightly, as he nuzzles further into the crook of your neck. 

There was never a candle to begin with- you were the light.

☄༄

Had someone told you five months ago that you'd be lying on Han's bed, watching "Howl's Moving Castle" at 2 a.m., you would've thought they were utterly delusional.

Yet, here you are now.

A lot of things had changed since your rainy outing with Han, as if the universe had shifted into alignment, two stars in the sky finally colliding and making way for something new. You saw him under a different light, understanding that no one picks up a dandelion unless they desperately need the solace it provides.

You've grown to care for him, in the course of the past two months. And funnily enough, you've started to like who you were next to him- just yourself, with no pressure of making conversation, or catering to his expectations of you.

He saw you at your worst anyway, and so did you, there was no use in filtering things anymore.

You've been there through the entire process of writing, composing, and producing Secret Secret- the song whose lyrics had captured your heart. You didn't expect him to ask you to be there with him, he just shot you a text, three days after you came over to his house. 'Wanna be there while I work on the song? I know you liked the lyrics.' It was an offer you couldn't pass up on.

You weren't, in your opinion, much help. Han was gifted in the music realm and song-making flowed naturally from him. But he noticed how interested you were in music, so he called you over each time he worked on the song, even asking for your input at times.

That's why, when the song was finally done and released on 3racha's Spotify account, you decided to celebrate by baking him a cake. You may have dropped an eggshell in the batter (you recovered it later on), and the icing's color turned out less vibrant than what you hoped for. But you managed to adorn it with a garden of little flowers, and with store-bought icing, you wrote the words "after the rain flowers will bloom again."

You showed up to the dorm and Changbin pointed you to Han's room, where he had apparently been holed up all day. You shot him a grateful smile, before pushing the door open with your foot.

"What are you doing here?" Han asked, an incredulous smile drawn on his lips.

"Surprise!" you grinned, pushing the cake his way. "Congrats on making Secret Secret."

"Are you serious?" he chuckled, jumping out of his bed. He peered at the cake, eyes softening as he gazed down at the design.

"You drew a little garden..." he whispered in awe and you nodded, a faint blush creeping up your face.

"I'm glad you recognized what it was. I'm not the best baker," you admit a bit shyly but he shook his head. "It's perfect. I can't believe you did this to celebrate our baby!"

"Your baby," you corrected, although the use of 'our' warmed up your chest, weirdly enough.

"You were here with me every step of the way. She's ours."

"It's a she?" you giggled, and he smiled proudly.

"Mm. Do you accept being her mother?" he mused; hands clasped in front of his heart like he was praying you'd say yes.

"It would be my greatest honor," you nodded solemnly, and he let out a breathy chuckle, grabbing the cake from your hands and setting it on his bed.

"Should we hug it out?" he teased, arms stretched wide but you merely stared at him, unimpressed.

"Come on," he whined, "you can't reject me for the third time. And, in front of our child. On her birthday!" his tone grew louder and you couldn't help but giggle at his mock outrage.

"Try harder."

"Our child won't know what a loving parent relationship is and then she'll seek out unhealthy love from the ones around her and-" you cut him off by finally wrapping your arms around him.

You've always known that being near Han left you breathless, but this time, it felt as though he was breathing life into you. You close your eyes instinctively, as his hold tightens on you. He smells immensely nice, like pinewood and soap. You should've hugged him sooner.

"Thank you," he said quietly, forehead pressed against your shoulder blade.

"You did well," you whisper back.

"We did. She's our child, remember?" he reprimanded and you laughed faintly.

"Yeah, ours."

Hours later, the movie's credits finally roll down, and the finished cake sits idly by Han's desk.

"I should go," you rub your eyes tiredly, and Han stares at you as if you are out of your mind.

"At this hour? Do you want our kid to lose her mom?"

"Han," you drawl, hitting his head with the pillow next to you. "You can't hold me hostage."

"I can, as your husband."

"Since when are we married?"

"Since you agreed to be Secret's mother." Another playful hit to his face.

"Stop attacking my face, how will I get laid then?"

"So, you are cheating on me?" you ask, feigning outrage.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry baby you're the only one I want." You falter at the nickname before hitting him even harder, matching the tempo of your quickening heartbeat.

"You're crazy," he laughs, grabbing your wrists and pinning you onto the bed. He's hovering over you, eyes hooded with a tender intensity as he gazes down at you.

"Will you stay, please?"

"The couch is uncomfortable," you reply, avoiding his eyes. He lets go of one wrist before holding your chin gently, urging you to look at him.

"You can sleep here. We've done it before."

"You were freezing both times. That's why I did it."

"I'm very cold tonight," he pouts, eliciting a surprised chuckle from you.

"Are you now?"

"Very much so."

"Fine. Only because I don't want you to die from hypothermia."

"Thank you!" he grins excitedly, finally letting go of your wrist. You bring a hand to your flushed cheeks, as he tosses a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants in your direction.

"Get changed! There is a spare toothbrush in the cabinet."

You make sure to groan theatrically, before heading into the bathroom, where you splash your face repeatedly with water. You aren't used to this- being a blushy mess, because of Han, nonetheless. It was dizzying you, how things took the complete opposite turn between you and him.

At least, back then you weren't alone in your hate, you couldn't stand being alone in your affection.

So, you'd stop this, whatever feeling that's coursing through you. Tomorrow, you will firmly close the door on the blooming feelings within you. But tonight, you’d both lay on the same bed, arms brushing against one another. It's completely dark and quiet, but there is an entire symphony playing within you.

"Thank you for today," he whispers, turning around and tucking his arm under his head, this way he's facing you.

You mirror his actions, and your fingertips brush against one another. You can't see him but you can feel him. He's everywhere, wrapping around all your senses. 

"Thank you for making this song. It's very comforting to me."

"Why is that?" he questions, inching closer to you, you can feel his minty breath fan all over your face.

"I’ve always felt like I carried too many emotions within me. Like a volcano, bubbling over until the day I explode. I never liked feeling this way, so I tried to hide it," you confess softly.

"Like a secret secret."

"Like a secret secret," you repeat, glad that he understands.

"You don't have to hide with me," he says after a few silent beats, and you swallow nervously.

"I know." you lick your lips as the music inside you grows louder. "Still cold?"

"A little."

"Come closer," you beckon, and he complies instantly, wrapping his arm behind your back and drawing your chest close to his. Your legs entangle with one another, as your face lays on the crook of his neck. It's intimate, far more than any time you've done it before. You don't want to sink in his hold in fear of never resurfacing again.

"Good?" he asks, voice tinged with a newfound raspiness. 

"Mm," you hum, and he releases a relieved sigh.

You've once read that everything in this universe sings. Every atom's vibration creates a sound, contributing to a grand celestial chorus. It's an unscientific, but lovely thought, to wonder who our hearts sing for.

Right now, it's for Han.

☄༄

The music echoes through your being, an ever-present melody that refuses to fade into silence. Even with no audience to enjoy it.

Han always found his way back to your side, no matter how many times you've tried to distance yourself from him. And you couldn't bring yourself to refuse him, because you were friends, first and foremost. And friends don't abandon one another just because a mere glance at them sprouts a blush across your cheeks. 

That's how you find yourself on your way to Han's dorm, for the third time that week. Watching movies together has become your little tradition, for the past few months, and sometimes even Chan joins in. Although he mostly enjoys shooting you a knowing smile, to which you flip him off.

Your phone rings and Han's name illuminates your screen. You smile against your will.

"Can't wait to see me this much?" you singsong and Han's chuckle rings through the phone. It's rich and deep, causing you to tighten your hold on the device.

"Yes. And can you please go to the store? I'm out of snacks."

"What do I get out of it?" you muse, changing directions to the nearest convenience store.

"Snacks."

"Asshole," you giggle on your way to cross the road.

"And my eternal gratitude of course."

"Right, because I can't-" Loud tires screech right beside you and you startle, letting out a loud yelp as you drop your phone.

A hand on top of your heart, you bend down to pick up your fallen device, as the driver gets out of the car that grazed your body, mere inches away from hitting you. 

"Are you okay, miss? I'm sorry I didn't see you." The middle-aged man is quick to your side, and you glance at the small kid in his car, willing yourself to calm down for their sake.

"I'm fine. Just a bit startled. Drive more slowly, there is a kid with you."

"I know, I'm sorry," he drags a hand through his stressed features and you couldn't help but feel sympathy for him. "It's okay, don't worry about it. Just pay more attention to the road, okay?"

"Thank you so much. Thank you," he clasps his hand in gratitude before getting back to his car and you wave him off, your heart still wildly beating in your chest.

You head into the convenience store, picking up the snacks you know Han loves before paying for them. But as soon as you step back outside, you spot a disheveled Han crossing the road, sprinting toward the store. His pace quickens upon spotting you.

"What are you..." your question is cut short as his arms wrap around you, pulling you to his chest instantly. You can feel the frantic rhythm of his heart, and you're confused as he pulls away, hands cradling your cheeks and turning your face left and right.

"You're alright, nothing happened to you, right? You’re okay?" he inquires urgently and you let out a confused giggle, as you grab his arm to steady him.

"What are you talking about?"

"I heard the tires screech and you yelled and then you didn't pick up when I called and I thought-" his voice cracks. "I thought something happened to you."

"No, no. I'm okay. Nothing happened, I promise." you reassure, as he brings you to his chest once again, his hand smoothing the top of your hair.

"I was so scared," he kisses your temple, as his thumping heart resounds within your chest. "So terrified that something would happen to you. I thought I'd lose my mind."

"You don't mean that," you shake your head slowly, peeling yourself away from him.

"Can you really not see how much I care about you? How I crave being near you?" his voice raises a slight octave. The music in you picks up.

"How long do I have to pretend to be cold to have you nearby? For god's sake, I'm never cold around you, yn. When I see you, I ignite." He takes in a deep breath, pressing his forehead onto your shoulder. "And I... I couldn't have lived with myself if something happened to you. I... You drive me crazy, Yn. When we became friends it felt like I was stepping inside a home for the first time, and yet I already knew each turn in it."

He grabs your arms, shaking you slightly as his chest heaves up and down. "My darkness recognizes yours and my light is you and you- you think I wouldn't care if anything happened to you?"

He shakes his head as tears prickle in the corners of his eyes. Has his music always been this loud, were you just not listening properly?

"I'm scared because we didn't start well and I understand if a part of your heart still resents me, I do. But I don't think I can pretend anymore. Not with you," his voice softens as his gaze locks on yours.

"Were you pretending too?" He asks, hope dripping from his tone. "Do you feel it too?"

A split second goes by. A candle flickering somewhere. A dandelion plucked from the ground. The shadow of a cloud passing over the sun- and you pick.

"I feel it too. So much that my heart feels like it’s singing for you, Han."

"I'll sing for it in return," he whispers, before crashing his lips onto yours. His hand slides up the back of your neck, drawing you closer. You drop the bags of groceries as you cradle his cheeks, feeling them warm up beneath your touch. You can't believe you've ever disliked your heart for feeling too much, not when the lovely emotions flowing in your heart threaten to burst it at the seams, submerging you in a warmth you've never known before- Han. 

Two months later

You have 3 new messages from: hannie

"kept this song a secret from you baby but i wrote it for you so you can't be mad"

"i don't know if you remember but you’ve once told me that you are a volcano. as if that’s something that’s supposed to put me off. well, some people dedicate their lives to studying volcanos. and i would dedicate mine to learning you."

"Volcano.mp3."

Light.

#stray kids x y/n #stray kids x you #stray kids x reader #skz x y/n #skz x you #skz x reader #han x you #han x reader #han jisung x reader #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #skz angst #stray kids angst #han fluff #han angst #skz imagines #stray kids imagines #stray kids imagine #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #han fanfic #skz fanfic #skz reactions #skz au

[tomriddleslove]

I’m here.

✩Mattheo Riddle x Reader

Summary: The one where Mattheo is spiralling and he needs a way out. He doesn’t expect to find it right in front of him. Alternatively: He doesn’t realise he is loved, by you.

A/N: Riddles 🤝 Internal Monologues. I’ve postponed a smut to write this because my heart belongs to angst. REQUESTS ARE OPEN 😻

Warning: Mentions of Abuse, Child abuse, Substance Abuse, Unhealthy Family environments, Depression. This is quite a heavy read.

Mattheo liked to think of himself as an independent person. It wasn't of his own volition, of course. He didn't exactly have the most supportive home environment. From the day he turned up to Hogwarts after the summer holidays, with scuff marks on his shoes, ragged clothing, hunger gnawing at his insides like a ravenous beast and a bruise spattering the left side of his face, he learnt that the world would not show mercy on him. No, Mattheo had to do it on his own.

He did indeed feel grateful for his friends, who didn't need to utter a word in their support. It wasn't hums of sympathy or pitying looks. It was them brushing off his back when he fell, it was saving the work for him when he had rough evenings, it was pouring him a coffee when he sat down for breakfast without saying a word. Their friendship was not reflected in their words, no, for words were futile. It was in their actions. And Mattheo would be eternally grateful for them.

But even then, it was he who was surrounded by so many, who felt the most alone.

He couldn't ever speak of his issues, he didn't think he ever could. His friends loved him, but not in the way unconditional love came. It need not be romantic, no, Mattheo was not a fool. He didn't care for that when he could barely get himself together. But his deepest secret was not his family's past, nor was it the hidden bruises under his uniform.

Rather, it was that Mattheo simply, had the most terrible, incredibly human need, for love.

For the sort of love that would let you look at the most broken down, raw parts of a person, and still speak of them with reverence.

It tears at your skin. It digs its claws into your feeble skin, and it pulls, It tugs, and it screams. It bares its teeth, it etches its name into your soul. It feeds on you, it consumes you, it hurts you. It bleeds in front of you.

It bleeds, yet it does not cower under the weight of its own vulnerability, because it knows you love it. You lean down, and you cradle it as though it was the most delicate thing on earth. It shrieks in your arms, it continues clawing at you.

You hold it. You are not afraid.

It bleeds, and it makes you bleed with it.

It’s ok.

You'll clean it. You are not afraid.

It was, in its purest form, an ugly thing. Ugly, yet so undeniably beautiful. His heart could only ache, and clench at the thought of such an unconditional love. The idea that someone could see him for him, see Mattheo for Mattheo and not for his father, or for his friends, or for his loud, raucous persona that he put on, or his unhealthy habits.

But how could someone see Mattheo for himself, when he himself didn't know who he was?

He wondered what the rest of his life held for him, often. Sprawled out on his bed, a near-empty bottle of Odgens’ fire whiskey loosely clutched in his hands. His hands are cold; they never warmed.

He always had this feeling in his throat. A sort of suffocating weight, a pain that restricted him. It made it hard to swallow, and even harder to speak.

People would think he'd be out partying. Maybe getting with a girl. With his friends.

It's not that he didn't do that. He did. But it got to a point where the face of one girl blurred into another, he couldn't tell his mornings from evenings. Floating on a high that would sink into an undistinguishable low, one and the same.

He never slept. Whilst they didn't outwardly question it, his friends would jibe and jeer at him, assuming the bags under his eyes were due to his late-night rendezvous with another girl.

Would they look at him differently if they knew it came from nightmares?

He couldn't sleep, because every time he closes his eyes the depths of his mind torment him with images from his past.

His father’s hand comes down, cruel and unforgiving. The bruises mar his skin, but it became the norm. The purples and greens became akin to home more than anything else he had.

In his dreams, his legs do not reach as far as they do now. His calloused hands are smooth once more, and his eyes are wide and honest.

He is young once more, and it does not bring him ease.

He seeks out his mother, he yearns for comfort. She does not give it to him. He is met with the harsh sound of a slap resounding, and his cheek starts hurting. He's confused, and then-

Oh.

Right.

His eyes close, and they open again. He is now looking in the mirror, and he is back to the way he is now. He is standing there, and he cannot tell why he is. He looks the same, yet somehow unrecognisable. Mattheo knows himself well, but right now he feels as though there is a stranger in front of him. That can't be him, he thinks, but he has the same faded scar on his right eyebrow, and his jaw is clenched in the same way. His nose is slightly crooked from when he tried to mend his broken nose at the age of 8.

He meets his eyes in the mirror, and they stare back at him. There isn't that familiar gleam of exhaustion. There isn’t sadness, yet he isn't relieved to see it. He looks in the mirror, and he sees himself. He sees his father reflected in him.

He is watching, and a child approaches him. He is young, as Mattheo was. He barely manages to walk over without stumbling. He looks up at Mattheo - the one in the mirror. Mattheo looks down, but he does not see the kid next to him. He stares back at Mattheo in the mirror, and his reflection is looking down at the child. His stomach starts to hurt. His insides churn, and the reflection raises a hand. The child looks up at him, the same way Mattheo looked up at his mother. The hand comes down, and the harsh sound of a slap resounds throughout the room. The child cries. Mattheo's cheek hurts.

He wakes.

Gasping, sweat clinging to his forehead. His body is freezing, and his mind is reeling. His heart is pounding frantically, and he throws the blanket off him, rubbing a hand over his face as he groans.

He couldn't sleep, He was terrified of trying to do so. His eyes flicker over to the clock on his wall.

2:00 am.

Every time he shuts his eyes, he sees the child looking up at his reflection in the mirror. He sees his reflection raising its hand. In the silence, he hears the sound of the slap, he hears the cries of the child. It mingles with his own, he cannot not tell whose is whose.

He gets up, slipping his hoodie on. His movements are groggy because even if his mind couldn't sleep, his body still needed it.

Then again, one more night of resorting to drinking himself to sleep and he wouldn't be sure if he would wake again. His feet lead him to your room before his mind registers it. He doesn't know why he's standing outside your door, but you were his friend. Perhaps, a closer friend than the rest of them. He knew you'd be up, and he needed to not be alone right now.

Mattheo was a very independent person most of the time, but now was not one of those times.

That terrible, incredibly human need comes back again.

His hand rests on the doorknob, the cool metal still warmer than his own skin. He hesitates, but he pushes the door open.

Your door was always open for him.

As he expected, you were awake. Stretched out on your bed, propped up on a few cushions as you read a book. Your eyes flicker up as you look over at Mattheo, the confusion on your face very quickly fading as you see the state he's in.

You do not say anything, and he is grateful. You put your book to the side. You do not slide over to the side and offer Mattheo a spot next to you like you always do. You instead, continue looking over at him. Instead, you open your arms. You do not say anything, and you beckon him over.

He does not move immediately. He gazes at you for a second and once again, his feet move, and he gravitates towards you before his mind can even compute what he’s doing. The mattress squeaks slightly under your combined weight, as he comes over. He lowers down onto you, his head resting on your chest as he wraps his arms around your midsection. You cradle him as though he was the most delicate thing on earth. His cold skin meets yours, and its intransigence wavers.

He warms, and it is the most beautiful feeling.

He clings to you, as though trying to merge his existence with yours, afraid you'll slip away.

You hold him.

“I'm here,” You whisper.

It doesn't take long after that.

His head is hidden in your chest. Your fingers card through his brown curls.

You hold him.

He weeps.

You hold him.

You do not let go. He cries, and he cries till his throat is dry, and your shirt is soaked. He cries, and not once does your hold on him waver.

You are not disgusted by him. You do not look at him differently. It is amidst those tears that he comes to the realisation that he did not have to search very far. He is not just seeking comfort; he's holding onto the love and acceptance he's always craved. The raw, unfiltered emotion takes him by surprise, and he lets it wash over him. He did not cower under his own vulnerability any more, no, for his vulnerability is both liberating and overwhelming.

His sobs gradually subside, and your hold only loosens slightly when his body no longer shakes with the weight of his emotions. The feeling in his throat is gone.

He doesn't look up at you, but it's okay. You still look at him the same way. Your lips press a tender kiss against his messy hair lightly. His arms wrap around you tighter. You both remain silent. You don’t need to speak the words, because Mattheo knows.

Everything would be okay, if only for tonight.

#harry potter #slytherin #tom riddle #mattheo riddle #mattheo x you #mattheoxreader #mattheo riddle x reader #mattheo riddle x you #slytherin boys fic #slytherin boys #lorenzo berkshire #draco malfoy #theodore nott #blaise zabini #harry potter fic #mattheo riddle angst

[helluvapoison]

You were a rare soul— and that means something down here. You didn’t care about holding the title Overlord, nor the power that came with it. You had exactly zero souls under your belt, yet people… respected you. Not feared, respected. A peculiar word to hear in Hell.

Your name was uttered quieter than a whisper, like saying it an octave too loud would summon you.

The Rat King.

Soon you would meet…

˚✧₊⁎ Lucifer Morningstar ⁎⁺˳✧༚

warnings: gn reader, language, angst, canon divergence

ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʕ•̫͡•ʔ•̫͡•ʔ

• He thought it was very brave (re: idiotic) to carry the title king in his domain

• Lucifer came to you out of boredom, absurdity, and— no shit— the slightest bit of self indulgence! He was supposed to see this so called second king and rip them a new asshole. Except you weren’t a king— not even close

• He scoured you toes to head, seemingly unimpressed. Not rat-like, not king-like. Lucifer knew himself well enough to know he should have been bored by now. His expectations plummeted, nothing was going according to plan. And yet.. he found himself more curious than before

“You’re this ‘Rat King’ I hear so much about?”

“I guess so” You shrugged, “But I didn’t pick that name for myself.”

• You properly introduced yourself to the one and only king. Your real name tasted interesting on his tongue. Lucifer tested it thrice as he shook your hand, relooking you over like he missed something

• Apparently they called you The Rat King because you were in the secret trading business. Give one, get one. Simple as that. You explained the rules to him over a cup of tea that he asked for. It wasn’t his first or second choice of blend but he drank it to be polite. No other motive. Definitely not because there was a question on the tip of his split tongue

• Lucifer wasn’t the most observant of people. He couldn’t tell what people were thinking, he wasn’t fluent in body language. So when he caught your eyes bouncing between his tight grip on the chipped cup you offered him, to his jittery knee sticking out from where he sat. His body and his head were, for one, in agreeance; leave, they told him. He didn’t like to be sized up and that was always his go to answer for why someone was watching him so intently. But with his chest facing you, and his heart in control, he stayed put

• “Lilith.” He choked out, “I want any knowledge you have on her.”

Saying her name out loud hurt more than he thought it would. It was acid in his belly, smoke in his lungs, and fire on his tongue.

Your smile faded.

“What?” He scoffed, “Lemme guess, you want something, right? A deal? I have to make a deal to find my own wife? Let’s get this over with then! I’m the fucking King of Hell, whatever you want is—“

Your hand shot out so suddenly that Lucifer was almost disappointed. He was expecting this. Right? This is what Sinners did, it’s why they were here. Why was he hoping you’d be different? And, more importantly, when did hope creep into his system again? He hadn’t been on good terms with the feeling in decades.

• However, Lucifer’s disappointment was killed before it could spread. Gently, so gently he could cry, you took his hand and pushed it, palm down, onto the table. Your eyes never left his. There was something about them that captivated him. He loathed it. It made him feel small. Not the kind of small that equaled insignificant, either.

No, it was worse.

Vulnerable.

“I don’t do deals,” You said quickly and it had Lucifer wondering if those eyes of yours saw how his mind was spiraling.

Stealing his hand back, ignoring how he immediately missed the contact, he wiped it on his pants.

A suspicious glare took over his face, “You—?What? You don’t do deals? What does that even mean!?”

“I just… trade secrets,” You sounded so defeated, “I don’t need deals for that. But I don’t have any secrets about the queen. I’m sorry.”

• Lucifer expected pity to rear its ugly head from you any moment now. His pride couldn’t take that hit, not today. What was it about you that made him so fucking transparent?

• The uncomfortable silence began creeping into the insufferably small shop of yours. It was fucking suffocating.

“I wish I could help you, I really do.” You said softly.

He really wished you would stop doing that. Your softness felt like a dagger to the heart. Reminding him it existed was agony he thought he’d never feel again.

• “Not one?” Lucifer asked bitterly.

Not a single one of these undeserving demons and sinners that Lilith loved so much spoke about her? Not a whisper or a rumor? They just forgot about her? It’s only been 4 years!

“I’m sorry, your majesty, if I hear something, I can—“

“No… No, it’s fine.” Lucifer cut you off, holding up his hand. His wedding ring blinded him with a sparkling gleam. He sighed, “I think we’re done here.”

• You stepped behind him cautiously, walking him to the door.

“You’re welcome to come back?”

He scoffed out a laugh, grinning at you from over his shoulder, “You’re not getting any of my secrets.”

A smile of your own began to spread.

“I also dabble in conversation.”

_

(part one? or move on to the next character? i dunno if i feel like continuing but want this to be as interactive as possible so tell me what you would like to see!)

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer morningstar headcanon #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer morningstar

[ladymunson]

One 18+

Fic summary: Bucky struggles with his feelings toward you, which he hides by pretending he doesn’t trust you. You get placed on a mission together where trust is essential.

A/N: sorry if this is all over the place, it’s been a while since I’ve written anything so this might be a jumbled mess. Enjoy though!

Warnings: SMUT 18+, oral (f rec), fingering, language, unprotected p in v, kissing, heavy petting.

Word count: 5.3k

Not proofread and no beta (apologies for any mistakes)

I do NOT consent to my work being copied, translated or posted to any other platform.

Support content creators by REBLOGGING

Dividers made by the wonderful @firefly-graphics and thank you to @jijilaufeyson for helping me make a decision.

“Are you serious?!” You throw your hands up in exasperation, “I’ve been with SHIELD for three years, I can do this mission by myself. I don’t need a babysitter!”

“Yes, you do.” Bucky sneers, you turn your head towards him and glare.

“I hate to agree with Barnes but he’s right, I think you still need someone to keep an eye on you. Your ex was HYDRA after all.” Tony says, as he crosses his arms over his chest.

You throw your head back in frustration, they’re never going to forget about him.

Three years ago, you had come back to the apartment you shared with you boyfriend of two years to find the place swarming with HYDRA agents. He had been assigned to you to eventually recruit you to HYDRA after they had discovered your abilities.

You’d always been able to sense how someone was feeling by just being near them and eventually it had morphed into being able to influence their emotions. You could walk into a party or a meeting and know exactly who to look out for, whether it be because they were vulnerable or someone with ill intention.

It took immense concentration, effort and energy to be able to change someone’s emotions without touching them. Which you always try and avoid, you don’t want to change someone unintentionally, you could ruin things for them. So, you manage to keep your emotions in check most of the time, and don’t accidentally influence anyone.

The moment you realised that Russell was HYDRA, you didn’t want anything to do with him anymore, but they weren’t going to let you go without a fight. Luckily, you’d befriended the Black Widow, Natasha Romanoff, when you’d met her and Wanda Maximoff one night at a local dive bar after Russ had blown you off again. One text to her and they’d both been at your door and helped you get away from the agents and back to the safety of Avengers Tower where you’d been subjected to an intense interrogation from Tony Stark, Cliff Barton and Bucky Barnes.

You’d thought that after all the years spent training and fighting by their sides, they would trust you by now, but obviously they don’t. Or more specifically; Bucky doesn’t. Cliff had decided you were trustworthy the first time he interrogated you and had told them as much, but Bucky wasn’t hearing it. So here you were three whole years later, still deemed untrustworthy by the Winter Soldier of all people.

“You know what…?” You start and Bucky smirks at you, adding more fuel to the fire. “I’m glad you’re doing the recon alone, gives me time to pack.” Bucky raises an eyebrow. “This is my last mission, I’m done. I quit!” You turn on your heel and leave the conference room without another word.

Bucky groans and places both hands on the table in front of him, flesh beside vibranium, and hangs his head.

“Well that went well Barnes.” Tony says as he walks over to the door. “Looks like I have to do damage control.” He points at Bucky. “You find something on that recon and figure out a way to fix this. We can’t lose her.” And leaves the room, the glass door swinging back and forth.

Bucky makes a fist and slams it down on the table in front of him. “Fuck!”

You stalk down the hallway, heading to your room, walking past everyone and ignoring them all as they try talking to you. Natasha notices and follows you to your room, the doors are automated so you can’t even slam it to let out your frustration. So, you throw your self face down on your bed and scream into the comforter. Natasha just stands by the door, not saying anything and waits for you to finish your screaming.

“Feel better?” She asks as you flip yourself over to lay on your back.

“I can’t believe he still doesn’t trust me! Well, it doesn’t matter anymore, I quit.” You say without looking in her direction.

“You didn’t quit.” Natasha says as she walks over to join you on your bed.

“I did, straight to Bucky and Tony’s faces. Both of them looked shocked but I don’t care anymore. I’m fucking done!” You say as you jump off the bed and begin going through your closet and putting clothes in a suitcase.

The one thing you want, is to have Bucky’s trust…. Okay there’s something you want more than his trust, but you’re never going to get it. If he doesn’t trust you to be member of his team, there’s no way he’s going to trust you in any sort of relationship. So rather than trying anymore, you’ve picked the nuclear option. Serves him right!

“Buck…?” Steve says as he walks into the conference room where Bucky is still hunched over the table. “What’s going on?”

“What is wrong with me Steve? Why can’t I trust people?”

“You mean y/n?” Steve asks. Bucky groans. “Buck, I think it’s obvious to everyone except you and y/n that you like her.” Bucky looks up at Steve. “In a romantic way.”

Bucky stammers, “N... no I don’t.” Steve raises an eyebrow and smirks at Bucky.

“You haven’t been in a relationship since she joined SHEILD, hell you haven’t even on a date in a year. You like her.”

“You’re right Steve, I do. But… She quit.” Bucky says as his head hangs head.

“What did you do? You know what, it doesn’t matter. Fix it!” Steve says and leaves the room.

You and Bucky avoid each other for the next week, but to be fair he was out doing recon for the mission with Sam, who had been ribbing him about his feelings for you and pissing Bucky off. They had however, been able to meet the mark and started integrating themselves into his world. Your role as Bucky’s girl would come later, and you couldn’t help feeling like he was ruining your chances to prove yourself. You could’ve done the getting to know the mark and maybe brought Bucky or Sam or even Steve in as your man later on.

You hated to admit it but their getting to know him first was the better plan as not many women were in that world.

The mark. Carlo Vizzini is the head of an organised crime syndicate, who deals stolen HYDRA and SHIELD weapons and technology to other members of the syndicate. The goal is to find the times and locations of all the shipments being brought into the city, finding a list of buyers would be the icing on the cake but it isn’t a priority.

Bucky’s role is to present himself as someone new to the area who wants to become a member of the syndicate. FRIDAY has come up with an elaborate backstory for the two of you, created entire histories for you both which you’ve spent the last week reviewing and learning. Your backstory isn’t too far away from your real story, so it isn’t hard to memorise. The problem is pretending to be his girl. How can you possibly work together and be convincing if it’s obvious to everyone that he doesn’t trust you. There has to be a reason why Tony suggested Bucky for the mission and not Steve, you don’t know what it is, not that you care because you won’t be around once this mission is completed.

The story. You and Bucky have moved to New York from Michigan, where was a mid level HYDRA agent who oversaw a warehouse that contained new tech. The place had been breached while he was attending a HYDRA event with you, and they had fired him for allowing the breach to happen (An actual event orchestrated by Vizzini).

You had been together for five years at the point you’re at, and Tony had decided to add the fact that you were recently engaged. So, you had to wear an obnoxiously huge diamond on your left ring finger, which really bugged you. You had both been set up in a brownstone in Brooklyn, sleeping in separate rooms but having to appear all lovey dovey in case you were being watched.

Four weeks later.

Carlo Vizzini has invited Bucky and you to an event hosted at his mansion in the Hamptons, where you will both be introduced to other syndicate members. So, you need a spa day and shopping trip where you can buy a dress for the event and be seen out and about acting like this is a normal occurrence. Tony has also arranged for someone from Tiffany to show up at your house and lend you some jewellery for the event as you’re a simple teeny hoop earring kind of girl.

You find the perfect dress while browsing online so it’s very easy to go and get it without having to actually search in store. Scratch that, Natasha found the dress for you and told you it would be a crime if you didn’t wear it.

The idea is to infiltrate the syndicate event, find the intel and get out without your cover being blown until the weapons and tech have been recovered. If your covers can last beyond that until the entire syndicate has been taken down, that’s even better.

So, you’ve been to the salon and had your hair done and are heading back to the brownstone when you notice the dark SUV you spotted outside the mall had parked across the road and the occupant was crossing over to you. You play it off like you haven’t noticed, a civilian wouldn’t have and that’s who you are for the foreseeable future.

“Excuse me? Y/N” The stranger starts a conversation with you.

“Yes? You answer, turning to face the person who has spoken to you.

“I’m sorry, I work for someone your boyfriend is trying to get into business with and he’s asked me to check that you out.”

You chuckle, “Fiancé.” The stranger looks confused. “He’s my fiancé, not my boyfriend. Does Mr Vizzini think we haven’t done the same the same to him? Can’t be too careful these days, too many con men around, especially in New York.”

The stranger seems a little taken aback by your words, but continues, like his job is at stake. “I have a few questions, if you wouldn’t mind answering.”

You cross your arms over your chest and cock an eyebrow. “Okay?”

He takes a picture out of his jacket and asks. “Who is this man?”

The picture is of Sam Wilson, the Falcon but you answer, “That is Sam, James’s brother, adopted of course. “

“And how long have you been together?”

“Five years, engaged for one. Are we done here? I have to get ready for a party.” You say and turn to the steps of your brownstone, heading up to your front door.

“One more question.” You turn to face him again. “Can I use your bathroom?” You sigh and open the door, directing him the right way and stay in the hallway so he doesn’t sneak anywhere else for a snoop. You hear the cistern flush and the squeak of the faucet, but you also hear the sound of the medicine cabinet being opened. Yep, he’s snooping. A few moments later he steps out of the bathroom and thanks you as he leaves your house.

You head straight into the kitchen and start the coffee machine; you then grab a detector out of the kitchen drawer and head into the bathroom. Using it to detect for a bug, which you find in the cupboard under the sink and leave it there. You have a get out your phone and send a message, one you’ve prearranged with Bucky, telling him about the bug.

‘Can’t wait to see your reaction when you see what I have on under my dress (followed) tonight. You’re not gonna be able to keep your cool or your hands (Suspicious) to yourself’

‘New lingerie?” (Bug?)

‘Maybe (yes), but you’re gonna have to wait and see’

‘Can’t wait’ (Understood)

You’re gonna have to start your charade earlier than anticipated and act like a real couple. I suppose there are worse things in life than pretending to be in a relationship with Bucky. You can’t deny that the dude is hot.

You pretend to use the bathroom by slowly pouring a bottle of water in the toilet, flushing and washing your hands. Then you head back into the kitchen to pour yourself a coffee.

Bucky arrives home a short while later, carrying a bouquet of roses (Sam’s idea) and gives you a kiss. You feel a little twinge in your stomach, feeling his lips on yours. His kiss is light and sweet.

Feeling your lips on his sends a thrill through Bucky, the feelings he’s been trying to hide for years bubbling to the surface and he has to stop himself deepening the kiss.

“There’s fresh coffee in the kitchen babe, I’m going to start getting ready. No peeking!” You say and head upstairs.

Bucky stays downstairs to drink a coffee and makes a few phone calls, all in character of course, before heading upstairs to get into his tux which takes only a few minutes. He’s back in the living room in less than ten minutes, waiting for you join him.

Bucky isn’t downstairs for very long before he hears your heels on the upper landing and stands up to greet you but at seeing you, his breath hitches in his throat.

(This is the dress you wear)

“You’re fucking stunning!” Bucky breathes out, causing you to grin.

“Not too bad yourself James.” You reply as you walk down the stairs and take his outstretched hand.

You arrive at the house in the Hamptons, impressed with the size of the place, hanging on to Bucky’s arm. The size of it is really impressive and you live in Avengers Tower.

Bucky thinks that he must thank Natasha for picking out that dress. He can’t keep his eyes off of you, that dress hugs your curves in all the right places. Bucky knows he needs to remain professional, but he really wants to get his hands on you and bring you pleasure like you’ve never known. He won’t have any problem pretending to be your lover tonight, because that’s the only thing he wants.

The party is in full swing an hour later, you’ve mingled with everyone, hanging on Bucky’s arm, acting like he’s your entire world. And to him, you are his world. It’s not acting, he’s crazy about you and has been since you met.

Another forty-five minutes go by with the both of you all over each other, giving you a reason to sneak off at some point, to find the intel you’re there to get.

Bucky’s arm is around your waist, holding you close to him as you leave the “ballroom” where the party is. You’re acting the part really well, practically hanging off of him, hands wandering. Walking down the hallway, still all over each other, opening doors looking for a place to have some privacy. Some rooms are all occupied, but the one you’re looking for is empty, Vizzini’s office. As soon as you’re in the room and you part ways, straight back to business, heading for his desk and turning on his computer. Plugging a USB drive you take off of your bracelet into it, and copying the files.

“Heads up Buck, Carlo is on his way and he’s not alone.” Sam says over comms. The last file copies just in time, and you attach the USB back to the bracelet and walk back around the desk.

“Shit!” Bucky says. “We’re gonna get caught!”

Your brain works quickly, “I have an idea, but you have to trust me.” You say as you switch the computer off.

Bucky nods. “Okay.” You pull him over to the wall beside the door and lean against it. You reach up under your dress and remove your underwear, Bucky’s eyes bulge out of his head. You throw your panties in the vicinity of the desk and reach down to undo Bucky’s pants. “What are you doing?!” He asks.

“I told you to trust me, I’ll get us out of this.” You unbutton his slacks and bunch up your skirt a little. “Lift me.” You instruct. Bucky catches on and lifts you, so your legs are wrapped around his waist. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull him close. “Go with it okay?” You say. Bucky gulps but nods and your lips meet in a searing kiss that makes you both moan out loud into each others' mouths. His hips begin to move instinctively, playing the part of a man who can’t keep his hands off of his girl. Bucky feels an usual sensation, kind of like a happiness he’s never felt before. As quick as he feels it, it goes away again.

You’re moaning loudly, alternating between passionate kisses and heavy breathing when Vizzini opens the door to his office and “catches” you, entering the room with two burly bodyguards. You gasp and fake panic.

“What the…?” He exclaims, his eyes bogging out of his head before he composes himself and continues. “This is my office, not a motel room!” You giggle. “This is not a laughing matter young lady, this is very inappropriate behaviour!” Bucky lifts you and places your heeled feet back on the floor and helps you rearrange your dress before tucking his shirt back into his slacks.

“We’re sorry Mr Vizzini, but when your girl looks like this, you have a hard time keeping your hands to yourself.” Bucky says as he wraps his arm around your shoulders.

“But this is my office!” Vizzini says, exasperatedly.

“We’re sorry but other rooms were occupied!” You say with a smirk. Vizzini nods and the two bodyguards rush out of the room, they return moments later, both red faced.

Vizzini nods again and turns to you. “We will not mention this again and our meeting Tuesday will go ahead.” Vizzini says. Before sitting at his desk and making a choked sound. “I think these belong to you.” He says, pointing to the black lace panties that had landed on the keyboard of his computer. You giggle and retrieve them from his desk, biting your lip as you do.

“Sorry again!” You giggle as Bucky wraps his arm around you and leads you out of the office. You head back to the party, makes it seem less like obvious that you’re involved in espionage.

You both carry on playing the devoted couple, you’re hanging off of him like someone who can’t get enough of their man. Sneaking kisses here and there, selling the bit. Vizzini reappears a little while later and blushes when you and he make eye contact, you smirk back at him and pull Bucky in for a kiss. It’s after midnight by the time your car has pulled up outside and you’ve said your goodbyes.

You’re still all over each other as you get into the car, smiling and waving to everyone as the car pulls away. You keep the act up until you’re on your way out of the Hamptons and on the free way before you separate, in case you were followed. You stay close to each other just so you can snap back together quickly if you noticed someone watching you or for when you get back to the brownstone that is your “residence” at least until this mission is over.

You can smell Bucky’s cologne and it’s been invading your nostrils since you walked down the stairs before leaving in the early evening. It’s lingering on your skin from how you’ve been all over each other all night. You recognise it as Sauvage, one of your absolute favourites. You can’t remember Bucky ever wearing it before, he’s usually a Hugo Boss guy, which is another of your favourites. You momentarily let your control slip (not for the first time this evening) and imagine what it would be like, to have Bucky’s affections and let happiness bloom inside you, but you stop it as soon as you feel it reaching your face.

Bucky has put so much effort into hiding how he feels, he feels like he’s suffocating right now. He feels something again, like a happiness that he’s never felt before. But it disappeared as quickly as he feels it. The truth is drowning him and he needs to tell you how he feels, the thought actually terrifies him though. What if you reject him? What if you don’t feel the same way?

He needs to talk to Steve, find out how to approach this because he can’t lose you before he’s even had you. The car pulls up to your brownstone and you both get out, his arm around your shoulders as you head up the steps. “I need to go run a quick errand I’ll be back soon, wait up for me?” Bucky asks.

“Of course, baby, I’ll see you when you get back.” You reply with a kiss on the lips, smiling at him as you unlock the door and step inside, closing it behind yourself and leaning against the door with a sigh.

Bucky runs to the bodega on the corner and uses their pay phone, making sure that he’s concealed before dialling.

“Hello…?” Steve answers on the fourth ring, his voice scratchy with sleep.

“How do I tell her? After everything, what do I say?” Bucky’s words are rushed out, not even telling Steve that it’s him.

Steve lets out a sigh. “Buck, just say what you feel. Honestly is the best policy. She needs to know what you feel is real and not because of what you’re both living right now. Open up, I think she will be more open than you expect. I’m going back to sleep now.” Steve hangs up and Bucky is more determined than ever.

He grabs a bottle of wine and some other items so it looks like he had a legit reason to be in the bodega, pays and heads back to your brownstone.

He unlocks the door, you’re not in the living room when he gets back so he quickly takes off the jacket of his tux and goes into the kitchen and puts the items he bought away. Bucky rolls the sleeves of his white shirt up his arms, grabs two glasses and opens the wine then heads upstairs.

You’re in your bedroom, you’ve taken off your dress and are wearing a short black silk robe. He walks in with the wine and goes to speak but the words die in his throat. He takes a deep breath and closes the door, you raise an eyebrow but take one of the wine glasses off of him as he pours the red wine into it. He pours his own, puts the bottle down and takes a big gulp from his glass.

“We need to talk.” The words rush out with his breath.

“About what?” You reply.

“I’m sorry.” Bucky says, looking straight in your eyes. “I act like I don’t trust you because it’s easier than admitting the truth, but the truth is what you deserve so here goes…” You look at him expectantly. Bucky takes another deep breath before he continues. “I like you and I have since we met, and it scared me because I’ve never caught feelings that quickly before. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever caught feelings like I have for you, with anyone. I think I…” he stops himself.

“You think you what?” You nudge.

“I think I’ve fallen in love with you.”

You look into his eyes and the cerulean blue shows nothing but sincerity. He means it. He loves you. You contemplate telling him how you feel but actions speak louder than words.

You walk to Bucky, standing in front of him. You lick your lips he looks into your eyes, searching for hesitation and finding none. He reaches out for you, his hand grabs the back of your neck and he pulls you closer. His lips brush yours and your breath hitches in your throat. You look into each others eyes and you wrap your arm around his neck, pulling him closer and planting a firm kiss on his lips.

Your lips feel like they were made to kiss his, they slot together perfectly, like two halves of a whole. He sighs contentedly as your lips open to allow his tongue access, your tongues dance together, caressing each other as your bodies get even closer.

Something snaps in Bucky and he pulls you towards him, walking backwards until he’s against the wall. He spins you around and pushes you against the wall, breaking the kiss and leaving you panting for breath.

“I need you to say that you want this, please say you want this. I can’t bear one more moment without touching you.” Bucky says breathlessly.

“I want it, I want you.” You say and reach out for him again. He kisses you sweetly, pulls back and sinks to his knees. He plants a kiss on the inside of your knee which makes you shudder. “Fuck!” You moan out as his mouth kisses up your thigh, getting closer and closer to your centre. Bucky lifts your robe and groans out loud, noticing that you never replaced the underwear you removed in Vizzini’s office. He grabs your knee and lifts your leg, hooking it over his shoulder and moving his mouth to your mound, licking a stripe from your hole to your clit. “Holy shit!!” You moan out and grab Bucky’s head with one hand and scratching at the wall with the other.

Bucky groans at your taste and begins to practically make out with your pussy, his eyes glassed over as your juices drip down his chin. His uses two fingers on his flesh hand and teases your hole, gathering your slick until he can sink them into you, straight to the knuckle. He’s eating you with such fierce ferocity and fucking you with his fingers so passionately that your orgasm builds quickly. “I’m not gonna last much longer.. I’m gonna…” a long moan escapes your lips as your orgasm washes over you. You shudder and shake, struggling to breathe as you ride the waves of your climax, your cunt pulsating around his fingers.

Bucky’s oral ministrations slow as your orgasm dies down, and your breathing returns to normal. He removes his fingers and your leg from his shoulder, stands and unbuttons his shirt before removing it and using it to wipe his face. He stands there in a white vest, his face flushed and looks at you adoringly. Bucky undoes your robe and lets it fall off your shoulders, leaving you in just your bra. You reach out and undo his pants, pushing them down leaving him in just a pair of black boxers. You can see his erection straining the fabric, you want nothing more than to take what you can tell is an impressive member out of his underwear and show him how good your head game is. Bucky however has other ideas.

“Take off the bra, please. I need to see all of you.” He says, his eyes still glassy. You oblige and he groans out loud, he steps forward and pushes you against the wall again. He takes your left breast in his hand and massages gently, causing you to arch into him. He lowers his head and takes your nipple in his mouth, circling the tight bud with his tongue. Bucky stops and plants a searing kiss on your mouth, it’s sloppy, full of teeth and tongues. He pushes his underwear down as you’re kissing, depriving your view.

You still don’t get a glimpse as he grabs your ass and lifts you, your legs automatically going around his waist as you continue your assault on each others' mouths, it’s like you can’t get enough. Bucky breaks off the kiss as he looks into your eyes, the both of you are heavy breathing already. “Ready?” He asks, you nod. “Words baby.”

“Yes please!” You feel the head of his cock against your entrance, gathering as much of your creamy slick as he can. Before notching inside you, your eyes roll back in your head as he slides into your wet cunt, painstakingly slowly. He wants you to feel every inch, every vein, the way he throbs for you. Once he bottoms out in you, you release the breath you didn’t realise you were holding. Your arms are around Bucky’s shoulders, holding onto him for dear life. You’ve never felt so full, so… complete. There’s a slight sting and burn, you can only assume but there’s a very good chance that he’s big and girthy.

Bucky plants a kiss on your lips before he begins to move, sliding out of you, almost completely before sinking into you again. The air is knocked from your lungs, you feel amazing as his cock slides in and out of you at an agonisingly slow pace. You moan out loud at the sensation.

“Faster!” You groan out, frustrated at how slow he’s fucking you.

“All in good time, I need to feel you.” Bucky moans out, but pretty soon he can’t just revel in the feeling. He needs to move faster, chasing his end. His hips snap up quicker and your moaning increases in volume, that heat in your belly building again with each thrust of his hips.

Bucky takes your mouth again, kissing you with all of him as he fucks into you with abandon. Your moans and tongues intertwined, your heavy breathing entering each others' mouths. Your hands carding through Bucky’s hair, tugging gently on the strands at the nape of his neck. Each time you do it makes his hips thrust harder and makes him grunt. But you have to stop after a minute as the heat blooming in your belly expands more until it can go no further.

It snaps and blooms upward and downward, sending heat to your toes and making you see white. Your climax makes your head roll back and you let out a scream of pleasure. There’s a new sensation as your orgasm hits, the feeling of white-hot heat spreading through him. Happiness, love, every positive feeling ever shoots through him and the spasms of your cunt around his cock, prematurely sets off his orgasm. He has wanted to draw another two or three from you before his end but he can’t hold it back.

He roars out, even the way your climax muffled your hearing you heard him. You’ve never heard anything like that, the sound was primal, animalistic. Your breathing slows and you lower your head to look at him, he’s staring back at you, looking completely fucked out, but so do you.

“You okay baby?” Bucky asks, breathing heavily and pulling your face towards him so he can kiss you. You can’t even speak, you just about nod before he lifts you off the wall and carries you over to the bed. He lays you down and pulls his semi-hard cock out of you, which makes you whine. He goes into your en suite and grabs a washcloth to clean you up, before joining you on the bed. He pulls you close and you snuggle into his warm body, your hand rests on his chest, just above his heart.

Happiness blooms in his chest once more, a content feeling. He realises that you’re projecting onto him with your abilities but you’re too out of it to realise. The feeling is one of pureness, a feeling of love. Bucky realises he has had this feeling before, many times, the first time was the day he met you. He really did feel love at first sight, he didn’t think it was possible but it happened. And now you both knew how the other felt, there’s no way he was going to go back to the way it was. And you’re not leaving SHIELD. Not unless he leaves with you, because from now on, you are one.

THE END?

Posted 23/04/2024

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky smut #ladymunson #Bucky Barnes x female reader #18+ only

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hey I was wondering if you would be up for writing a fic where the reader just showers Buggy in affection and just takes care of him. He could definitely do with some tlc

When you first shown Buggy any form of affection or love, his natural reaction was to pull away, to flinch, to push you away for the sake of upholding the gimmick he had thrusted onto him by others. He just wasn’t use to someone being genuine, being so kindhearted, patient and filled to the brim with unconditional love and adoration towards him like you have that it made him fearful, for the first time for he finally had something he was so scared to loose.

Buggy knew now that he couldn’t run away from this fight against letting himself drop his guard and fall apart within your arms forever, no matter how much he wanted to. He knew that one day he’d have to raise the white flag and admit defeat, little did Buggy know that he’d wave that white flag long ago and had admitted defeat whilst in the comfort of your arms and your sweet honeyed words. You provided Buggy with the safe space to be vulnerable, to be able to be rid of his make up, allow for you to see the beautiful man beneath the flashiness, the gimmicks and the theatrics; He even remembered the words you told him when he first allowed himself to sink deeply into your embrace, which opened his eyes to the route he was leading himself down towards.

‘Just because one person destroyed your ability to put your trust in others doesn’t mean that everyone else is going to do the same.’ You whispered into his ear as your hands ran through his beautiful blue hair with care. ‘The actions of one person isn’t a reflection of others. You can choose to not trust but live to regret to be open with that one special somebody or open up to everybody and blindly hope that they don’t use your kindness to stab you in the back.’

Not that Buggy would ever tell you but you held his glass heart within your hands and instead of smashing it like he originally thought you would, you surprised him by holding it close to your chest; looking down at it adoringly and so full of love that it made Buggy a tad teary eyed, for if someone as beautiful and downright perfect as you could ever love someone as flawed as him without being forced into loving him…then he guessed that he was finally doing something right. Soon enough your arms and being smothered in your kisses and honeyed words had become Buggy’s most favoured place to lay his aching self to rest after a seemingly stressful day, where nothing seemed to go exactly to plan.

‘You look comfortable there? Hard day?’ You asked softly as Buggy grunts as he buries his head into your neck, his arms quickly latching onto your waist tightly. Normally you’d have to be the one who initiated affection, which you still do on most occasions, but you also wanted Buggy to feel comfortable to come seek you out on his own terms rather then force him to. ‘Just cuddle me will ya?’ He said groggily and you couldn’t help but chuckle at his neediness.

‘What’s the magic word?’ You teased, trying so hard to bite back your snickers when Buggy lifted his head from your neck to glare at you softly but before he could say anything, you pressed a quick kiss to his cute nose, rendering him wide eyed and speechless before going in to plant a kiss directly to his lips. ‘Cute.’ You whispered against him, getting off on the expressions you pull out of him from gifting him basic levels of love and affection, before pulling away to look back into his gorgeous eyes that you never went a day without complimenting.

‘I’m not cute.’ Buggy said, his cheeks warm as the arms at your waist tightened their grip. ‘Dogs are cute, cats are cute, but I am not cute. I’m terrifying, people look at me and shit themselves from running away with their tails between there legs. And even then the ones that are stupid enough to stay behind are made examples of, so please tell me again how I’m apparently cute.’ He finished, choosing not to look into those soft, understanding and patient eyes of yours that he oh so loved. ‘You’re always cute to me Buggy,’ you started, raising his head to look directly at you by his chin, allowing your hand to drop back to his waist when you were confident he wouldn’t drop his gaze again.

‘Just like how you’re not only just cute but you’re also handsome, strategic, expressive with the way you talk and how you move your hands whilst you talk, flashy, dramatic, and above all you’re beautiful.’ Between each word you’d press a kiss to some part of his face, ignoring his adorable squeals and squawks of surprise that were music to your ears, not caring that you were smudging his make up and getting it on yourself as you held nothing but pride in your love for your Buggy, for as on rare occasions you would openly express your love towards him but saved a majority of it for behind closed doors; Not as though Buggy was anything but boisterous of his love for you and would shout it to the rooftops for all to hear in a possessive sort of way.

‘Really?’ Buggy asked once the flurry of kisses came to an end, looking at you with bright, hopeful eyes it melted your heart. ‘Yes, of course I do Buggy. How could I not? I’m extremely lucky to have you in my life and I couldn’t be more happier.’ You told him, watching as a goofy smile graced his lips as a chuckle fell out from his lips before Buggy decided to burying his head back into your neck, where he whispered against the skin there. ‘If either one of us is the lucky one, it’s me because you could’ve listened to everyone else and avoid me like the plague but you didn’t and I’m glad you didn’t because without you I wouldn’t know where or who I’d be. So thank you for never giving up on me…I love you.’

#opla x reader #opla buggy #opla buggy x reader #one piece live action #opla #buggy x reader

[lowkeyerror]

The Family Business Ch.5

WandaNat x Reader

Work Count: 1.2k

Chapter Notes: Angst, Violence

Summary: The guilt Wanda feels for missing your important milestones boils over and you're left trying to comfort her.

Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Dinner was over, but the chatter continued. Wanda had snuck off to the restroom somewhere amidst the conversation. Once she had finished up, she couldn’t fight the urge to go into her old room.

It was exactly the same as she left it. The light blue walls were littered with her old posters. Her bed still had a few old stuffed animals on it. Her desk was covered with post it notes, she used for keeping track of her important things.

Had she grown more than she had realized in the last five years? Was it selfish to assume that you wouldn't have?

“Something’s bothering you.”

Wanda startles at the sound of your voice. You stand in her doorway.

“Nothing, Y/n.”

You don't believe her.

You close the door behind you and fully step into her room. “You were quiet the entire dinner.”

“I was thinking,” she replied shortly.

“About what?”

She takes a seat on her bed and exhales, “A lot has changed since I’ve been away.”

You take a seat next to her, “You were gone for awhile.”

Her eyes meet yours, “I didn’t want to be. I didn't want to miss everything.”

She began to tear up. You hadn’t seen Wanda like this before. Wanda never let anyone see her be vulnerable. Her head rests on your shoulder, and she grabs one of your hands, seeking some comfort.

“Wanda it’s alright,” you try but she cuts you off.

“It’s not, I missed your graduation,” she began to sob.

You begin to internally panic, but you have enough sense to know that this is about more than your graduation. Your arms wrap around her, pulling her closer to you. She ends up straddling your lap. Her forehead lays against yours. You do your best to wipe her tears away.

“Forgive me, Y/n. Forgive me,” her cries grow louder.

Hesitantly you grab her face in your hands. Through the tears she sees the look of worry on your face. Wanda starts wiping at the tears with her sleeves.

You stop her, “There’s nothing that you missed that I can’t tell you about now. No one blames you for missing anything. I don’t blame you. I’m just happy you’re back.”

Wanda stops crying. She sniffles a bit with a sad smile on her face, “I remember that night when you came to the door.”

Your breath hitches. Her thumb follows the path on your check where the glass had cut you.

“You were so-”

“Helpless,” you finish.

Wanda shakes her head, “You are so strong. Anyone else wouldn’t have made it to the door.  I was going to say you were so pure. The world was so cruel even though you were nothing but a light.”

“Wanda-”

“Now, I’m hearing from everyone how you’re not like that anymore, that you’ve changed. I hate having to find out about you because I should know. My wife knows about how many people you’ve killed, and I didn’t even know you had fired a gun. I hate that it feels like I don’t know you anymore.”

You were taken aback by her words. Even with her being away for 5 years, you felt like she knew you better than anyone; even Pietro. Wanda had such a deep understanding of your inner workings that it scared you a lot of the time.

It took little effort to interlock your fingers with hers. You wait for her to look at you and when she does you speak, “You know me better than anyone ever has.”

“I used to,” she tries to drop your hands.

You don’t let her, “I can’t say that I haven’t changed at all, but I’m still me Wanda. I still watch reality tv as a guilty pleasure, I still eat my cheese puffs with a fork, and I still get a little antsy in the dark.”

She laughs a bit, and the sound brings a smile to your lips.  Your nerves ease as she seems to relax.

“You’re still my little krolik then?”

You blush a little but move her off your lap. You stand and hold out your hand. She doesn’t grab it, instead turning her back towards you.

You roll your eyes, “I’ll always be your little krolik. Now can we go back downstairs.”

Wanda hesitates, “Would you tell me what you told Natasha?”

“About my first kill?”

She nods lightly, “If it’s alright with you.”

You nod and sit at the desk chair across from the bed. It’s not much easier telling Wanda than it was telling Natasha. If anything, it was harder knowing how the woman had reacted in the past when you had been hurt.

“I should’ve known about this,” she’s seething, as she speaks.

“You had just lef-”

“I don’t care if the plane was mid fucking flight! I would’ve turned that bitch around!”

Before you could try to de-escalate the situation Pietro came into the room. “Is everything alright in here, you’ve been up here for a long time?”

Wanda jumps out of the bed and grabs the man by his collar. She nearly lifts him in the air, then beats on his chest. She’s moved him from the room to the hallway., You’re too stunned to intervene.

“WHY DIDN’T ANYONE TELL ME? NO ONE THOUGHT TO CALL ME? SOME JERK FELT HER UP AND SHE SNAPPED HIS FUCKING NECK AND NO ONE THOUGHT TO CALL ME?”

Pietro remains calm, his hands rest on top of hers “Wanda it was nearly 5 years ago.”

“So why is this the first time I'm hearing of it?”  The drop in her voice snaps you out of your trance.

“Wanda put him down,” Dragos voice booms in the hallway.

She let Pietro go and instead redirects her glare to her father, “Why didn't you tell me?”

“Because I knew you'd react like this. You’ve always been able to handle your emotions unless Y/n was involved,” his words only seem to anger her more.

“I’m the one that can't handle my emotions when it comes to Y/n? Are we sure about that? Because if you want to play ball I will swing for the fucking fences,” she combats quickly.

You watch as the color drains from Pietro’s face and even Dragos seems to stand down a bit.

“Wanda.” Natasha’s voice is strong as she speaks, “Let’s go, ok? I think everyone just needs a little space right now.”

Wanda doesn't seem like she’s done with the conversation.

“Y/n, sweetheart I think they're staying in your building. Why don't you take them there,” Flora suggests.

You nod, unable to speak at the moment.  You can see Wanda about to argue again so you slip your hand in hers. You don’t waste time pulling her towards the stairs. Natasha holds her other hand, clearing some of the tension from her system.

You get in the drivers seat while Natasha sits in the back with Wanda. Your brain was slightly clouded as her words sat with you.  Wanda knew something that made Pietro and Dragos cower in regard to you. You wanted to press on, but you knew she was in no shape to answer.

 Glancing at her in the rearview mirror, you could see that Natasha was whispering to her, trying to calm her. You’d never known Wanda to have a temper, but apparently, when it came to you her rage seemed unrelenting.

Taglist: @natashaswife4125 @autorasexy @alexawynters @blkmxrvel @toouncreativeforausername @likemick @sgm616 @bstvst

#lowkeyerror #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #wandanat x reader #wandanat

[loveinhawkins]

Thinking about Eddie, who’s known he’s gay since the first inkling of burgeoning crushes in middle school, but who still has partial blinkers on when it comes to how he views Steve.

Because to him, Steve fits right into the picture perfect story of high school. It’s easy to play a game of self-denial whenever they cross paths by the lockers, and Eddie’s eyes are drawn to him; easy to say it’s just because it’s the Steve Harrington, everyone takes notice if he’s around, it’s just the way it is, it’s…

And Steve in The Upside Down, listening to Eddie weave this lyrical picture of an archetypal popular boy, feeling a tinge of amusement and a growing vulnerability, an ache in his chest; he smiles when Eddie enthuses, like a reverent narrator, about tales of The Harrington House, where his parties were apparently the stuff of legend.

And Steve kinda laughs a bit, even though he feels… not sad exactly, but…

The thing is, he’s only ever had one proper party: in freshman year, just a kid, so eager to be liked. It had been gatecrashed by seniors and college students who took advantage of a large empty house with no authority figure.

Since then, sure, he’d acted all cocksure, still called them parties even if it was just him, Tommy and Carol.

In Steve’s eyes, he’s sort of always been a little try-hard, perhaps—reaching for something he could never quite grasp. Something he wasn’t even sure he wanted in the first place.

He doesn’t know how to express that yet. It’s too much to chip away at, while him and Eddie are tiptoeing over vines. Tiptoeing around each other.

It comes out as a scoff, “I don’t think I’m as cool as you think I am,” which isn’t what he means, really.

“But people adored you,” Eddie says sincerely, and he’s off on another tangent, another one of his stories.

But this one feels a little different.

He’s talking about winter, about how some teachers would ask Steve to help set up Christmas trees in the cafeteria, how girls would watch him with stars in their eyes; how Steve would pause and hold up the ornaments, in a world of his own, waiting for them to catch the light.

When Eddie’s finished, Steve realises that somewhere along the way, he’d started holding his breath.

“Yeah, I, um. I really don’t think people noticed all that, Eddie.”

“Well, they should have,” Eddie says, almost indignant, thinking, why the hell wouldn’t they? There’s so much to notice about you.

And then he stumbles, narrowly missing a vine; Steve flings out a hand to keep him upright, and oh.

The story—the big one—falls away.

“I noticed,” Eddie says softly.

Steve’s hand is still on his forearm.

“I know,” Steve says, struck by the thought that he’s been seen by someone—perhaps before he even really knew himself.

#Eddie getting caught up in his own romantic storytelling but then still ending up truly seeing Steve in the end #a combination of headcanons and analysis i keep ticking over. they are so layered ❤️ #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie

[neteyamkink]

cold neteyam meeting the clan’s sweetheart and having a soft spot for her but tries not to be obvi with it (everyone can lowkey tell though through the little gestures he does) that ends in smut when theyre alone and he wants to corrupt her innocence and reputation👀👀

OMG I LOVE THIS IDEA SO MUCHHHH THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING!! sorry this took me so long i’m so slow 😭

paring: aged up!neteyam x metkayina reader

warnings: mean neteyam :( (he’s in love though), my first time writing smut in veryyyy long >.<, degrading, use of “slut”, “princess”, “sweetheart, lil corruption kink?, swearing ofc, disgusting smut idfk

At first, you thought it was the new environment making him so distant and rude. Eventually, you started to think it might've been just you, he had no problem talking with anyone else in the clan. Just you. Little did you know the reasoning behind that was that he was in deep denial about his feelings towards you. He hated the way you made him feel so vulnerable and helpless. So he had to hate you, right?

You'd try to reach out to him and try to start a conversation, but he would always turn you down with a, "I'm busy," or, "leave me alone." You couldn't lie it kind of hurt your feelings. everyone loved you, how could he not?

One afternoon most of the young adults and teenagers were hanging around a fire, the sullys and all of your friends included. You sat there crushing up herbs to make spices and listening in on the conversation everyone was having.

"Y/n stop being so quiet," Kumi spoke, you didn't like Kumi very much only because he was a part of ao'nung’s little bully crew.

"I'm busy, I'm listening though," You smiled still trying to be nice to him even though you really just wanted to tell him to fuck off. What can you say though? You were minding your business obviously focused on something else.

"Oh come on since when were you anti-social," Kumi laughs, now he has interrupted the group's conversation and everyone's attention was on you two.

"I'm not, sorry I'll chime in," you quickly said realizing this whole thing was interrupting the group. You hated yourself for apologizing for being busy, but you didn't want to disturb the group and make a big deal out of the whole situation.

"Why are you making her apologize? She's obviously busy dumb ass," Neteyam suddenly chimed in. Your eyes shot up to him, but he was already looking at you. He scrunched up his face and looked away crossing his arms.

"oh no it's okay, neteyam," you scrambled to find the correct words and suddenly your heart was running miles a minute.

"Whatever," he scoffed not bothering to look in your direction. Suddenly your heart felt like it was dropping into your stomach and the frown that was on your face was inescapable.

Later in the day after the fire, you decided you would figure this out. No one is allowed to not like you. Neteyam usually would go into the trees to practice archery late after dinner. Even though he had to learn the ways of these new people he was determined to not forget the ways of his own. How did you know this? Kiri is your new best friend.

Determined to befriend the forest boy you set out into the forest to find him, and of course, he was exactly where Kiri said he would be. You decided to sit back and watch before going up to him. He set up a practice station with a bunch of fruits hanging from trees. You watched him draw back his bow and arrow, His back and arm muscles flexed and his blue skin looked so glossy and smooth under the moonlight. fuck y/n, focus. He released his arrow and it went straight through the fruit and into the tree behind it.

"Impressive," you spoke up slowly walking out of the tree and bushes you were behind. His head snapped in your direction and once he saw who it was he rolled his eyes and took a breath.

"I didn't mean to scare you," you smiled sweetly, attempting to use the charm that had worked on others on him.

"You didn't," he scoffs grabbing an arrow from the group and pulling it through his bow. You thought archery was so cool... and he looked so hot doing it. focus, y/n.

"what are you doing here? how did you find me?" he asks releasing his arrow and landing it perfectly in the middle of the fruit. damn, he's good.

"I came to talk to you about something. Kiri told me where you might be," You spoke stepping a little closer towards him. He didn't look away from his targets.

"I hope you know earlier today was not me defending you. I just don't like kumi," though his tone was even and calm his words were harsh and hurtful. Does he really not like you that much?

"Why are you so mean to me?" You randomly blurted out with a pout formed on your face. Your mouth moved before you could think about what was coming out of it and as soon as the words came out you wanted to shove them right back in. You usually were never this straightforward or harsh with anyone. He turned to you and quirked his brow like he was shocked.

shit was he being too harsh? he thought. He just couldn't stand the way you made him feel. The way the innocent look in your eyes made his insides all tingly. The way that one look made him want to get on top of you and ruin those innocent eyes. fuck those eyes that you're giving him right now. Why do you have to torture him like this?

"Am I really?" he said dropping his bow and taking steps closer and closer toward you. Suddenly your throat was dry and you swallowed the lump in your throat. You took steps back as he got closer, too scared of what you might do if he got any closer. Too scared of what those yellow eyes burning through you might do to you.

"mhm," you hummed, heart racing as if you had just run to the moon and back.

"I can show you mean," he smirked. a gasp left your mouth when your back suddenly bumped into the bark of a tree, he had you cornered. And fuck you don't know what he meant by that but whatever he did you wanted it so badly. He looked as if he was going to eat you alive and my eywa you were begging he would.

"teyam..." you stuttered, putting your hands up to rest on his chest. "Teyam, please," you wrapped your arms around his neck. You were practically begging him to ruin you. your eyes looked up at him through your eyelashes, bottom lip slightly jutted out in a pout. Fuck you drove him crazy.

"Say it," the smirk plastered on his lips makes your knees grow weak and you almost buckle over.

You can speak so you just push his neck down and smash your lips onto his. He wastes no time responding and kissing back. His sweet lips were rough against yours and the only thing you both could think about is why you didn't do this sooner. Everyone saw the tension between you two except for you. In the back of your mind, you knew you had been waiting for this moment.

"jump," he mumbles against your lips. You're quick to follow his instructions and jump, his strong arms catch you his hands have a firm grip cupping your ass. The tree you are pushed up against rubs against your porcelain skin.

"All you do is act so sweet and innocent around the others. I know what you really are," he speaks in between sloppy kisses. His words go straight to your brain and suddenly your head is all fuzzy and wonky. He moves from Your lips down to your neck, and your neck down to your collar bone, and your collar bone down to a little above your breast. then he repeats kissing, sucking, licking.

Your hands tangled in the back of his hair, and his braids felt rough in your hands. Your lips parted slightly to make way for the small hums and moans falling from them.

"need you right now, mk?" neteyam backs away from your neck to speak. you nod without hesitation, fuck you are so ready. The pool between your legs had been forming ever since he backed you into the tree.

"use your words, princess," The nickname darted straight to your pussy.

"yes, I need you," you spoke trying to pull him closer to you. He let out a low groan and reached one hand down to your loincloth, His big hand dragging across your wet slit.

"fuck," you gasped and bit your lip.

"All this for me?" he questions his lips curving into the stupidest grin. You simply nodded and tugged his hair tighter. He circled his finger around your clit a couple of times, making sure to get you nice and wet. small moans escaped from your mouth as you pawed at his loin cloth ready for more. You could feel him painfully hard against your palm.

“need you teyam,” you choked out, practically begging him to fuck you. He stopped his movements around your clit and looked you in the eyes. He was ready too. You looked up at him and batted your eyes, your eyes begged him for something- no… anything more.

“fuck, okay,” he quickly gave in undoing the knot of his loincloth with his free hand and letting it drop to his feet. He grabs his cock and lines it up with your entrance rubbing it up and down your slit. His hands practically shook with excitement.

“you sure?” he asks pausing before he goes any further. Without hesitation, you aggressively nod your head.

“words, ma ‘evenge (my girl),” the nickname drove you crazy causing the pool between your legs to get bigger and bigger.

“yes, teyam please,” you pleaded hands gripping the hair on his neck tighter. Immediately he was bullying his cock through your walls. When he entered you, you both gasped out of pleasure. The feeling of you being filled up makes your head go spinning, and the feeling of your warm walls around Neteyam makes him dizzy.

“oh, my eywa,” you whimper as he slowly pulls out and quickly snaps his hips back into yours. Your head swings back into the tree behind you and he uses both of his hands to cup for ass to support you. Back aching from being forced onto the rough bark behind you.

“Fuck baby,” he groans increasing his pace with every thrust. His nails dug into the plush of your ass and he couldn’t help but bury his head in the crook of your neck. Kissing, sucking, licking, and sometimes sinking his sharp fangs into your collarbone.

“You feel so good,” you whine bucking your hips up at him to meet him halfway, your body was begging for more.

“I need more,” you pleaded pushing his neck closer to you and shoving his body against yours, leaving sloppy kisses all over his shoulder. You needed to be closer to him, you needed to feel every movement he made, hear every breath he took, and kiss every inch you could.

“I know you want it so bad, huh baby?” his voice sounds sympathetic but he’s just being a meanie. His thrusts grow faster and faster, harder and harder. Your eyes roll into the back of your head due to the amount of pure bliss you were in.

“Fuck I been waiting to fuck you for so long. Ruin that pretty little innocent act you put on,” he practically growls into your neck. Your nails dig into his back.

“Please ruin me,” You begged, he scoffed at how needy and pathetic you were for him. He knew you weren’t as innocent as everyone made you out to be, so he was gonna fuck you like you weren’t.

“You’re all mine now,” he smirks against your collarbone as he sucked and bit marking you up so everyone would know he was yours and you were his.

“Say it ma ‘evenge,” he demanded.

“‘m all yours teytey,” you choked out through your moans. The knot in your stomach was growing tighter by the second and any second now you would cum.

“Please can I cum tey?” you begged, scratching up his back and marking him in your own way.

“Admit it, admit you’re a fucking slut,” His stern voice pulsated throughout your whole body sending shivers down your spine.

“I’m a slut,” you manage to choke out through your pants. His thrusts are becoming sloppy but his pace is still quick. You know he’s close.

“who’s slut are you?” He questions biting into your neck, his fangs so deep they feel like they’re going to draw blood.

“yours, teyam. All yours,” you breathe, his breaths quicken with yours and he throws his head back unable to take the pleasure anymore. You have to cum before him.

“cum, princess,” As soon as the word leaves his mouth, your a mess crumbling underneath him. Pleasure takes over your body and causes your head to throw back and your back to arch off the tree. The way your walls tighten around him sent him over. His thrusts became sloppy as his white ropes shot into you.

“I know, baby. I know,” He shushed you as you both came down from your high caressing your face with one of his hands and holding you up with the other.

“everyone’s gonna know you’re mine,” he smirked admiring the attacks he left on your neck.

#avatar #neteyam #neteyam smut #avatar the way of water #fanfic #neteyam x reader

[obae-me]

The OM Characters and How They Hug

Just a lil bit of fluff for me and for you in these trying times

Lucifer: 

Softly yet protectively. With a relaxed arm curved around the shoulder-blades and one protecting the back of the neck, his hand settled behind the head. As the eldest of his brothers, he is well used to making someone feel safe. He might not do this as often as he used to in the Celestial Realm, but there are still occasions where his brothers come to him for one of these hugs. It’s a hug that tells you he’ll take care of it. No matter the problem, no matter the worry, settle it on his shoulders. His pride can handle it. Sometimes he’ll even unfurl his wings to shelter the person he’s hugging, shielding them from the world, making sure they can’t be seen in their moment of vulnerability. 

Mammon: 

Tightly and passionately. Most of the time it’ll be a simple squeeze, standing side by side with whoever he’s accompanying, an arm around their back as he pulls them against him, shoulders shrugging up against each other, his head lightly bonking against theirs as he grins. But if it’s serious, he’ll pull whoever it is close and tight, his arms slipping under theirs, hands grasping at the back of their clothing as he clings to them. His emotions are always open to everyone, even if he tries to hide it. Whoever Mammon is hugging knows exactly how they feel for him, they can feel it in the burning warmth of his body, in every twitching muscle that holds them to him. Everything about his hugs screams ‘I’m right here with you and I’m not going anywhere’.

Levi: 

Nervously but assuring. He constantly shifts on his feet, his arms moving till they settle wherever feels best, more natural, which usually has his head somewhere near or on their shoulder. Sometimes he’ll even have his tail wrap around their waist. He feels like he’s not good at this, like he’s the last person to go to for a hug. There have to be better options but...whoever it was came to him. He can’t...he doesn’t want to pass up on this opportunity. He isn’t the third oldest and strongest of his siblings for nothing. He can mostly only think on the negative, but sometimes that can come in handy. At least it could be worse. Remember that time when they felt even more awful? At least this wasn’t that moment. At least they were here...with him...together. 

Satan: 

Curiously and surprisingly shakily. He’s wrath and yet he’s been sought out for comfort. He can’t help but wonder why. He hugs simply at first with his arms around their back, his hands clasped behind their body. Yet, he’s a bit...unsteady with it. He’s not a natural at this, and yet...he doesn’t mind it. He turns curious, his arms slowly shifting, tightening ever so slightly till he’s satisfied. Is this helping? He’s better at more logically solving problems than embracing, but...this is fine. It’s nice being depended on every once and a while, being wanted for something calm. He’s more used to holding cats, not people, so whoever it is might be surprised (or not so surprised) to find he’ll start stroking the back of their head in a slow rhythm, his fingers scratching at the base of their skull. 

Asmo:

Lovingly and lightly. His arms wrap up around their shoulders, twirling his fingers in the ends of their hair. His hands explore, finding all the tight spots in their body and trying to rub it out of them in little circles. He’s a wonderful source of hugs. Every touch of his feels delicate and intentional. He even seems to know certain pressure points to alleviate some tension, leaving the brain tingling. In his arms, they’re loved, they’re wanted. Breathe it in calmly. Feel the heart beat. Feel the feeling in your limbs. Focus on the brilliant sensations the body possesses. Distract the mind. Live in the now. Here, with him, they are pampered, admired, beautiful. 

Beel: 

Bone-crushingly tight and supportive. The recipient might not be able to breathe for a minute, but he’ll eventually adjust his own strength, still hugging whoever it is as tightly as they can manage. He likes to cover as much of the person he’s holding as he can, chin on their head if they’re shorter than him, which most are. If they’re taller than him, they should be ready to find themselves pushed down a little to feel smaller. Most times he’ll even pick them up a little off the ground. They can feel easy in his arms. He’ll support them, he’ll carry them, he’ll do whatever it takes to make them feel better. Just tell him what he has to do, or he can simply stand here longer, holding them even tighter. 

Belphie: 

Lazily but comforting. He’ll drape his arms over them if he even moves his arms at all. Most times he simply leans into whoever it is, letting them do the holding. Stay into the hug too long, and it’ll turn into a full out cuddle, almost forcing whoever it is to lie down with him and stay a while. If he has to lie directly on them to keep them from moving, he will. It’s his own way of supporting, of caring. His tail might wrap around their ankles to keep them from walking away. His yawns are infectious, making the other person yawn. His soft breathing slowly seeps its way into their lungs, making them breathe deeply and calmly. And, if he’s determined enough, he’ll slowly use his sin to lull them to sleep. Only when they’re not fully awake will he wrap his arms around whoever it is, his head rubbing up against their shoulder or chest. 

Diavolo: 

Strongly and shielding. Despite not having the opportunity very often, anytime it is presented to him, he takes it in stride. He’ll scoop whoever it is up into his arms, curving his large body over them, surrounding them, making them feel like nothing could get to them while he is there. His hold is strong, unwavering, a hand firmly on the back. He will not let go until the time is right. Sometimes he might even laugh, even if the situation feels dreary. He just has so much joy to share, and being here, comforting someone, it makes him happier than they can even imagine. His positivity tends to pool into others. His positive and hopeful outlook shining through the darkest of thoughts. 

Barbatos: 

Politely yet firm. His hands typically settle on their shoulders, going no further, pulling them against him. Only occasionally, if he feels it’s needed, will his hands reach around their back. His fingers hold on surprisingly tightly. They won’t slip from him, or rather, he will not let them go. Sure, he might feel like it’s his duty to uphold peace in the kingdom, but truthfully, he can’t handle seeing those he cares for feel so unlike themselves. And if a gesture such as this will alleviate some of that stress, so be it. He might find himself adjusting and fussing over whoever he is holding, smoothing out wrinkles, pulling off stray hairs, dusting off lint, clipping off loose threads. He can’t help it. It is his way of caring for them. 

Simeon:

Warmly and soothingly. An angel's duty is to comfort. To spread light and joy. It's something he enjoys doing. He'll hold them gently, the warmth from his Celestial body spreading over them, but not in a suffocating way. He almost feels exactly like the sensation one gets when they wrap themselves in a blanket that had just gotten out of the dryer. His cheek presses somewhere against their head, his hand rubbing up and down their spine. It's immediately comforting and whether it's his power or simply his personality no one knows for certain. People come to him for hugs often, even if they'll never admit it. Hugs from Simeon are almost like a reset, a recharge, returning that drained vitality.

Solomon: 

Cautiously yet enveloping. He's not used to people coming to him for hugs. Despite him being alive for who knows how long, he still feels rusty at it. But, of course, if the desire is genuine, who is he to deny something so simple? He hugs like some of those old men who use one arm to pull them in and the other to give them a single pat on the back, but if they need a little more than that, he'll hold onto them longer, trying to remember old memories, feelings of nostalgia for other moments like these that have been long forgotten. Eventually, he'll lean forward, throwing the remaining caution to the wind and hugging them entirely, squeezing hard enough that maybe, this time, the memory will remain forever.

Luke: 

Adorably clingy. He may pout and whine about how he's not some cute little angel, he doesn't want to be treated like a child, but of course his hugs make his denials hard to take seriously. He hugs like his life depends on it, like he'll never ever let go, like the only way he'll leave is if you pry him off. He's got surprising strength for his looks. Sometimes, he likes to jump a little right before he holds on so he can wrap his arms around their neck so he doesn't feel so small. Of course, depending on who he's hugging, they might just pick him up anyway which defeats the purpose, but perhaps he can allow it just this once, if it makes whoever he's hugging feel better.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmo #obey me beel #obey me belphie #obey me diavolo #obey me barbatos #obey me simeon #obey me solomon #obey me luke

[navybrat817]

I’m just gonna drop a little gift here…

LOOK AT HIM SO FUCKING GORGEOUS AND HOT AND 😩😩😩😩😩

Ok love you byeeeee✌🏻

LOOK AT HIM. I say nothing is perfect and then he comes along. And are we getting a glimpse inside of Smartie's mind?

Daddy? Sorry.

Pairing: Roommate!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Word Count: Over 760 Warnings: Discussion of Bucky being d-addy. Hehe.

A/N: Stud and Smartie nonsense. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

"You know what I don't get? The 'Daddy? Sorry.' thing," you told Natasha as you waited for Bucky to join you at the cafe for lunch. It was a beautiful day to sit outside. "Is it bad that I don't get it?"

"Not bad," Natasha replied, cocking an eyebrow at you and not questioning the out of the blue topic. "But what exactly are you not getting?"

"I guess calling a guy 'Daddy'," you shrugged, adding air quotes for good measure. "I've never done it."

"So, you haven't called Bucky 'Daddy'?" she smirked.

“No, I haven’t. I just said I haven’t called anyone that,” you said, holding your chin high when her expression didn’t change.

If there was one thing you appreciated about Natasha, she never made you feel dumb or embarrassed for any candid discussions you had with her. Even when she teased you, it was all in good fun. Bucky liked that the two of you became friends, though he preferred to be your main confidant. You felt the same way about him.

“But he isn’t just anyone.”

“I know,” you smiled, glancing around to see if he arrived yet. “He’s special.”

My future husband. I just know it.

“And you’re special to him, too. Can’t have Stud without Smartie,” the redhead said as you smiled more. It was nice to hear that. “Okay. In your mind, how would you describe a Daddy?”

You snorted a bit because you couldn’t believe this was where the conversation went. Well, you brought it up. You should’ve known your friend would ask questions. She did have a way of getting people to talk.

“Besides handsome?” you asked, getting a nod in agreement. You had to think about it before you continued. “I guess someone protective and maybe a bit dominant? Not in a controlling way, but in a ‘I want to take care of you’ kind of way.”

Bucky was the most protective person you knew. It wasn’t just physically standing up for you if he felt the need to step in and defend you. He cared about your mental well-being and feelings. And while he didn’t mind you taking the lead, he was very much the more dominant of the two of you. No matter what, you knew you were his number one priority in and out of bed.

“Go on,” she urged, taking a sip as she kept her neutral gaze on you.

A small smile touched your lips as you adjusted the hoodie you were wearing. It was Bucky’s, of course. “And I guess it can be playful and affectionate, like I want to tease him. Can you imagine if I called him that in front of everyone?” you asked, giggling as you pictured a couple of expressions he might give you from hearing the nickname. “But it’s also vulnerable, in a way, because it might sound awkward if I say it and he may not like it. What matters is that I trusted him enough to say it though and he might like it.”

I trust him to tell me the truth.

“Why do you think he’d like it?”

You looked at her without an ounce of shame. “Because it's that extra bit of assurance that I’m his.”

But it also says he’s mine, right?

Natasha gave you a rare wide smile. “Sounds like you understand it just fine.”

As if he sensed the two of you were discussing him, Bucky came into view. If your friend heard you whimper, she kindly didn’t call you out on it. Maybe she was used to you gazing at Bucky Barnes like he was a work of art that you had the privilege to touch.

Your brain tried to tell your eyes to quit looking at him like a creep, but you didn’t blink. You just stared at your man and tried not to drool as you took in his tight blue sweater and pulled back hair. His stance and size screamed “power” and you suddenly wished he’d bend you over the table and take you right there. There was also a softness about him that made you want to burrow in his arms and never leave.

Daddy? Sorry. Daddy? Sorry. Daddy? Sorry. OH. I fucking get it now. Is this a new kink unlocked? Wait, is it a kink?

“Call him ‘Daddy’ and I’ll pay for lunch,” Natasha offered as Bucky spotted you both and headed to the table.

“That’s a conversation for Daddy and I to have first,” you joked.

And knowing Bucky, he’d be happy with whatever you called him.

How do we think he'd react? Love and thanks! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ KoFi

#navybrat writes #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes #roommate!bucky barnes #roommate!bucky barnes x reader #stud and smartie #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes ficlet #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes au #beefy roommate au #roommate au #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x female reader #sebastian stan x you #sparklesannie

[writing-rat]

Used Farmhand

Pairings: Lorraine Day x AFAB Reader

Content Warning: 18+ Content, G!P Lorraine Day, Werewolf Alpha Lorraine, Lorraine has a penis, Vaginal Sex, Knotting, Mating, Maybe OOC, Blowjob, Handjob

Summary: You are working when Lorraine is in heat. That's when she decides to use the farmhand... you.

Word count: 1409

It was a sunny day on the Day Farm considering it was Spring. The mother and father you worked for had gone out to a farmer’s market, leaving Lorraine to keep you in check and they also knew she would enter heat soon. They were interesting people, and you never had actually seen an alpha look so submissive. She was shy and skinny, she was way too vulnerable to be an alpha. Alas you didn’t question it as your omega seemed to jump in joy when her dad said she might enter heat whike you were there. 

That is exactly what happened. You was at the barn, putting old, rotten hay into one pile while the clean, fresh hay was in another pile. You was distinctly aware of another person’s scent coming towards you but you thought it was just RJ, Lorraine’s friend who was an omega. You sighed. “What d’you want RJ?” You called out, expecting a response from the weak man (more like boy). The response surprised you however. It was a growl, and you felt yourself tense up as you gulped, hearing the noise get closer. “Lorraine?” you asked before turning around, where you saw the alpha standing there, looking you up and down. Your stomach tightened as you watched her and knew you were cornered. “Hey alpha,” you spoke casually, trying to not glance down. She was wearing her usual colourful top and the red jeans that showed her dick off. You realised you was staring as your quickly looked up again. She was spreading pheromones around the barn. This was sending your own omega in heat, causing you to whimper. 

“Need to breed,” she finally talked, her voice a notch higher. You blushed, realising she was the one in control. She was just submissive to everything except in bed it seemed. “Need to breed you,” she specified as she was looking you up and down and licked her lips.

“Y-you do?” you stuttered out, trying to restrain your heat, but it was impossible with every step she did to get closer. 

“Yes,” she growled out then quickly pounced on you and pinned you against the wall as she was dry humping you. “I know how you feel. You stare at me constantly when I’m around until I catch you. You even look at me when I’m just swimming in the lake,” she explained, grunting as she humped. You whimpered in response and nodded, letting yourself just relax. 

“Yes alpha,” you responded as you was trying to yank your tanktop off. Lorraine took it in her hands however. She ripped it off instead including your bra before she was biting your neck and shoulder.

 

“I’m going to treasure you omega,” she explained. “I will mark you with bites all over. I will mate bite you. You will hold my litter and we will have a family,” she grunted out. You knew the alpha was in control then as you nodded. 

“Yes alpha, fill me with your pups,” you moaned out, as you felt her bulge against your thigh, still as ever. She smirked before she started to yank down your shorts, drool slipping down her mouth as she ripped off your panties. 

“You don’t know how long I imagined this,” she hummed out. You gulped and nodded as you let her speak, her starting to also strip down. First her top, revealing no bra, then her jeans that had on some loose boxers. “I wanted you so bad for months,” she added on. “Jacked off about you, wanted you to suck me off and stroke me as well as taking my knot inside you. You are going to do all of that, in order,” she commanded. Nodding, you glanced down and saw it twitch. You was shyly pushed into your knees then. It slowly seemed like Lorraine took control over her wolf inside her. Slowly, you licked from her tip to her balls while making eye contact. She was moaning as she grasped at your hair gently, before you took it in your mouth and closed your eyes as you was bobbing your head up and down on it. You used your tongue whenever possible as soft moans slipped out of her mouth as she gripped tighter. 

Slowly, you started to also massage her balls, seeing that she also liked it as she was humping your mouth. You gagged every now and then but allowed it to happen as you kept sucking, licking and massaging. She was soon gripping harder and was panting. “Close,” Lorraine whimpered out, to which you was nodding as you kept sucking. She couldn’t help it after a minute as she came inside your mouth. Quickly you swallowed as you was pulling out, using your hand to stroke her like she wanted. You looked up at her, as you was soaking wet and fingering yourself. Lorraine was looking down at you with lust still but hesitance. 

“Have your way with me when you ravage me,” you spoke, stroking faster. She started to nod as she was humping into her hand at the same pace as your fingers. You bit your lip harder as you soon went faster than ever, to test if she was. She was as she humped faster, but went harder. That’s when she suddenly came all over your face with a smirk. 

“Always wanted to paint your face,” she smirked out and gripped at your hair as you looked up. You was bright red as she admitted that. “Now, on all fours, ass facing towards me,” Lorraine commanded, getting more confident again. Obeying, you did as told as you stopped fingering yourself. She licked her lips at seeing you drip all over the floor. “Making such a mess in the hay just like the dirty slut you are,” she degraded. You gasped when you felt her hand strike your ass as you widened your eyes. It didn’t stop the arousal coming out. “So you like being slapped huh slut?” Lorraine spoke, before she suddenly pressed you into a mating press, her inside you immediately. You gasped at the sudden pleasure. “Something else will be hitting you now,” she spoke casually as she held your hips. You was nodding. 

“Please alpha, fuck me already,” you moaned out loudly. You didn’t care if the Day’s came back, you just needed her to fuck you. She was nodding as she was ruthlessly pounding into you then. You panted as you was loving every single thrust she did, even if it hurt a lot at first. She was getting more and more confident as she used you and smirked while doing so. She was panting against your ear as she held you closer, soon biting your shoulder and neck, marking you. You blushed heavily as you knew you were mated for life now, but you loved the idea of that. Truth be told you had fallen for the girl, and you was sure the Day’s knew hence why they had you over during her heat this time. They usually made you have a week break. Soon you felt close as you was whimpering and whining. “Need to cum,” you moaned out. 

“Go on omega. Come for me,” Lorraine panted out as she held you harder and pressed closer against you before you came all over her dick. Feeling you orgasm made her also cum inside you as she was thrusting a few times before she knotted you, releasing more cum. She was panting against your ear as she was catching her breath, feeling better than before. 

“Thank you for accepting me,” she then spoke gently. You nodded. 

“I have had feelings for you for months by now. I’m glad the Day’s didn’t keep me away this time,” you spoke with a smile.

“It’s because I told them I wanted to be mated to you. They allowed it as you are a great worker,” she spoke. You blinked in shock then nodded. 

“I’m glad you wanted me here,” you spoke before leaning against her more. She was nodding as she held you even closer. 

Soon the knot was down and she pulled out. “I’ll get you some new clothes. The parents aren’t back yet so come with me,” she spoke.

“For a second round?” You responded.  

“You caught me,” Lorraine replied then picked you up immediately as she smirked. “Now, let’s go. Quit dillydallying,” she added on. You was nodding, holding her closer.

#lorraine day x reader #lorraine day #ratboy writes #ratboy writing #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x reader smut

[imagining-in-the-margins]

I feel like so many people have a different interpretation of how Spencer Reid would handle sex. There’s the classic nerdy spencer who keeps stuttering and doesn’t know how to do *it* but knows everything technical, and there’s the mega dom spencer who knows exactly what he’s doing, and everything in between. I’m curious to know what you think is most accurate to how he would be? This can also change from first season to last, etc. I’m just curious what u think!

S.R. Sexual Headcanons (NSFW, 18+)

Early Seasons

Shy and slightly insecure, but eager to please

Would spend a lot of time on foreplay because it is the best way to ensure his partner’s pleasure (and it’s a fun kind of science)

Prefers an emotionally attached partner since sex requires vulnerability he is loath to give

Has a lot of things he wants to try, but he is too embarrassed to bring them up, so he’ll wait for his partner to suggest it (very nonjudgmental)

As he gets older, he becomes more confident and lighthearted in bed

Understands the importance of aftercare and insists it’s his responsibility to hold you (he is actually just a cuddlebug with a really good excuse)

Interested in the power dynamics of kink culture but averse to it because he lacks the self-confidence

Preferences/Priorities: Perfecting oral sex techniques, kissing erogenous zones, sensory seeking activities (experimenting with light/hard touches, but not pain).

Middle Seasons

Brat and Switch Era

More willing to have fleeting sexual relationships

Beginning to feel confident in his sexual identity, more willing to ask for what he wants

Enjoys roleplay, more intense power dynamics, and sensory-heavy foreplay (although still loath to grant true vulnerability)

Confident in his ability to please his partner

Seeks out relationships where he can feel challenged in some way (intellectually, physically, emotionally)

Views sex as one of many ways to establish and express intimacy, would easily forego sex for an intellectually stimulating activity (and loves them as foreplay)

Preferences/Priorities: Ensuring his partner is open/comfortable, advocating for his own pleasure, having fun while having sex, exploring deeper rooted sexual proclivities

Late Seasons

Just wants to feel desired for who he is (he is so tired)

Seeking companionship but unwilling to have long term sexual relationships without emotional vulnerability on part of all parties

Struggles with the darker parts of himself and requires reassurance from his partner (both that he is gentle and strong/“a good man”)

Less likely to engage in heavy roleplay, established “scenes” are rare

A more intuitive lover that adapts to emotional and physical shifts, but very cautious to escalate

Craves physical and emotional intimacy before and after sex (he requires aftercare and is so, so touchstarved)

Occasionally uses sex as an outlet for his frustrations, but usually would prefer to ground himself through sentimentality

Preferences/Priorities: Feeling close to his partner, maintaining boundaries, ensuring the overall experience is enjoyable and everyone involved feels safe

What do you think? Sound off in the comments/reblogs and let me know!

*These lists are just for fun and based purely on my perception of his character. Outside of the variety of my fanfiction portrayals, this is what I consider my “truest” perception of his character. No one characterization is “correct” because there is no knowledge of his sexual personality in canon. Heavy submissive/dominant portrayals are, in my view, valid and arguable for any stage of his character. Do not read anything I’ve said as a condemnation of another headcanon. This is all in good fun!

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #Spencer Reid headcanons #spencer reid smut #imaginingafterdark #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid blurb #answer #answered #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #criminal minds headcanon #criminal minds smut

[half-bakedboy]

for the buck/tommy prompts — “you’re an idiot.” “yeah, but i’m *your* idiot.”

A few months into dating, Evan asks Tommy to a family dinner at Sergeant Grant and Captain Nash’s house. Tommy’s never been nervous when meeting a significant other’s family or friends, but he sure as Hell is terrified to meet Evan’s pseudo-parents. 

You know, the ones Tommy hijacked his own helicopter for because they saved an entire ship of people from being murdered by pirates, blown up, and drowned in the middle of the ocean where they’d probably never be found?

It didn’t matter that he had met them before. How is he supposed to feel normal about meeting two people like that? 

“I can practically hear you spiraling, and I feel like that’s supposed to be my job,” Evan interrupts his, well, spiraling. Tommy turns toward him from the driver’s seat with furrowed eyebrows. 

“I’m meeting your entire family together for the first time. How is this about you again?” Tommy asks. Evan must know he means well because there’s a soft smile on his face and he reaches out to grab Tommy’s hand. If he was a lesser man, they might have been shaking. He feels like he might start when Evan’s face turns more serious. 

“You know I haven’t had the best track record with women…” Evan begins.

Tommy can’t help but interrupt. “Good thing I’m not a woman…”

“Not a woman, I know,” Evan finishes the inside joke with him. He’s running his thumb in soft circles over the back of Tommy’s hand, spelling out words Tommy wishes he could decipher. “You’re different in more ways than that, though.” 

Tommy doesn’t speak even though Evan expects it if the long pause he allows says anything. 

“You might not be part of the 118 right now, but you’re as good as family. You’ve worked side-by-side with Hen and Chim, you were part of the first team that Cap led in L.A., and your friendship with Eddie has only grown since we got together.” Evan sighs. “I’ve always been terrified of not being enough so I’ve pushed people like you away. People who I respect, who I envy, who I wish I could be like so that they can’t replace me.” 

“No one can replace you, Evan,” Tommy inserts, even though he knows he doesn’t have to. Evan knows that, but Tommy will never stop reminding him. 

“No, they can’t,” Evan says confidently. Tommy squeezes his hand with pride. “But that makes this—us—all the more serious to me. You’re sticking around for as long as we’ll have each other, and probably after that.” Evan takes a deep breath and, with vulnerability bursting out of his blue eyes, says, “I guess, this is my way of saying that I want you in this family whether you’re with me or not.” 

Tommy practically melts at the words. It’s what he’s wanted since he first hopped in that helicopter, since before his friendship with Eddie or his relationship with Evan. He’s missed Hen and Howie, and he wants to laugh with their wives about stories from their pasts. He wants to get to know the first Captain he met who deserved to be in his position, and say thank you to the first cop to shake his hand when he finally—and accidentally—came out in a fit of frustration. 

Evan knows exactly how much the sentiment means to him, and to hear him say it out loud, makes emotion swell up in his throat. He knows it’s too soon to talk about forever, but he’s never felt something so close. 

“Plus, if they’re your family, too, they can’t be mad at me for not telling them I was bringing you because the invite was implied.” 

With the moment thoroughly broken, Evan jumps out of the car and runs around to open Tommy’s door. Tommy sighs as he exits, but reaches out to hold Evan’s hand anyways.

“You’re an idiot,” Tommy mutters with a shake of his head. 

There’s so much fondness in the words, that he might as well have said I love you. 

Evan’s grin barely falters, and he kisses Tommy’s cheek quickly but firmly. “Yeah, but I’m your idiot.” 

It’s not an I love you, too but one day, Tommy thinks it might be. 

#911 on abc #bucktommy #kinley #kinkley #evan buckley #tommy kinard #answered #ficlets #my writing #anonymous #911 spoilers #i gave tommy so much made up personality and backstory in this #and it gave me so many feels it inspired my last tumblr post #i just want him to be happy #and to make buck happy #and i just think CUTE BOYS SHOULD BE HAPPY OKAY

[shellxrls]

okay to complete the trilogy

here’s how jj fucks

okay so we all know jj is an energetic person, and this only escalates in bed.

he has ridiculous stamina and an even more ridiculous refractory period. he will dump three loads and still be up for more.

he also does not gaf if it gets messy.

he loves to feel in control, I mentioned this with rafe but for him it’s slightly different. he’s much less mean about it. Rafe sees it as a power trip whereas jj sees it as like “helping” in a way.

for me specifically sometimes I just need to turn my brain off and that’s exactly where sex with jj comes in best.

he’s not soothing like John b is, he just does not stop. and that fucking works.

he also very much knows what he likes, and will always make sure he gets that, but he’s also realllyyy good at making sure the pleasure is mutual.

he never had an off day when it comes to giving pleasure, he may but a dumb fuck, but he does know how a girls (and a guys I can’t even lie to you) body works.

he loves giving backshots! if he could choose one sex position for the rest of his life it would be having me face down ass up.

he goes fast and hard, and he’s a grunter. Always with the little punched out “uh, uh, uh”’s and it’s so so hottttt.

skin slapping and bedpost banging are the primary sounds heard other than disgustingly shameless moaning.

jj is a shameless moaner and he made me one too the little cunt.

if I’m not loud enough for his liking or if I’m tryna quiet myself down he will dirty talk the noises out of me.

he genuinely said “lemme hear those pretty noises mama, yeahhhh that’s it.” And I’m never. ever recovering.

he’s not into any kinks that involve deliberate injury for pleasure. like slapping or choking, stuff like that he hates in bed. simply because his at home life is quite unstable and he just can’t imagine ever doing that to someone he loves cause he knows how it feels. even if it’s consensual on the receiving side he just absolutely cannot bring himself to do it. As a very open and experimenting person in bed, choking, slapping anything of that type of action he absolutely refuses and honestly I get that. He also refuses any type of noncon.

however he can spank. though only EVER does it when he’s really mad or riled up, and even then he is so so so attentive. always checking in after every hit just to make sure it’s not becoming too much.

he is also very adamant about safe words. always having a safe word and action and always checking through them and agreeing on them before we do anything that involves deliberate injury or just anything particularly rough in general.

also makes sure to give very good aftercare after spanking or a particularly rough night. LOTS of kisses and praise cause he would absolutely eat away at himself if he thought I was feeling neglected or bad about myself cause of something he’d done. especially in a setting as vulnerable as that.

and he’s also very good and communication which surprised me. again he’s very adamant about never hurting the people he loves, especially with the way he grew up. if I’ve suggested something he doesn’t want to do for that reason he’s very good at voicing it and honestly I’m glad bc I would never want to make him uncomfortable.

he’s also v open about sex, and is always totally there to talk about it or hear new suggestions or anything that I need to talk about he will.

he is very into butt stuff!!! I am his anal princess I cannot even begin to lie to u. he definitely has not bought me as many butt plugs but you bet I’m gettin a nice one he saved up for every Valentine’s Day cause he’s jst a lover boy to his core <33 and butt stuff <333

he’s mostly into giving praise but sometimes if he’s particularly wound up a little bit of degradation is sprinkled in. again is very thorough with aftercare after the fact of these situations.

he’s also such a munch. like the munchiest munch in munchland. he owns a t-shirt that says “I ❤️ eating pussy” and wears it on a regular.

he knows just how to work a pussy with his mouth and its IMMACULATE!!! he can also eat ass too omg.

he lovesss using toys. most guys see toys as a competition, but not jj. this man knows what’s up. he has a whole ass collection of random ass toys laying around and somehow at some point they all get used.

his fav combination when I’m tired is being four fingers knuckles deep in me with a vibrator to my clit and ohmygollygoshgoodness. deceased.

he’s really into tired / sleepy sex too. though he’d never do anything sexual while I was asleep because as previously stated, this man does not do any type of noncon.

but like I say if one of us wakes up in the middle of the night then it’s sleepy, sloppy, tired messy sex and ughh <333

he also loves cockwarming mmh. well put a movie on and I’ll jst sit on his cock and it’s sooo..

loves being sucked off <3 and he has such a pretty dick too. uncut but he actually likes to shave around there. such a perfect pink tip like I can’t even it’s the prettiest thing. can taste putrid though if I’m not careful.

he likes to have his balls played with / sucked on.

and PISS KINK!!! omg he’s jst gross ab it it’s so hot. makes me grind on his thing when I need to piss just to make me lose control and :(((

also on another note he does not gaf if I’m on my period. a true soldier is not afraid to get his sword bloody (I saw someone else on their blog say this and have honestly just adopted the phrase cause it makes me giggle)

I think this is everything but I’m literally so tired right now, if there’s anything I’ve forgotten I’ll js put it in a different ask <3

- rafe shifter

i’m posting this rn cuz everyone wants it !! i don’t have time to individually respond but trust i WILL add onto this post later with my own thoughts. ty anon for sending this in and taking time to explain every detail <3 !!

#asks.ᐟ ⋆｡˚𖦹 #;rafe shifter #;prompts #jj maybank prompt #jj maybank x reader smut #jj maybank smut #jj maybank imagine

[weirdkpopgirl]

Cute | Haechan Imagine #9

Title: Cute

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: none really

Word Count: 668

Author's Note: I can clearly envision Haechan in a scenario like this. To be honest he's one of my favorite members from 7Dream to write for, and I'm glad to post more content of him on this blog. I'm sorry this imagine is kinda short and I personally don't think it's that great. But it was coming up with the idea was still fun. Hope you guys like it ^ ^

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

“You fell for me because I was cute?!”

The incredulity in his tone prompted you to blink in confusion, putting a brief pause to the mindless play with Haechan’s fingers. You sat nestled at the edge of the couch, cozied up between his legs as your back was supported by his steadily rising chest.

Your head turned slightly to meet his equally bewildered gaze. The expression he wore resembled that of someone who had just been deeply offended. This wasn’t exactly the reaction you anticipated when answering how you came to develop feelings for your boyfriend.

“Is that a problem?” you asked him skeptically. The male scratched his head with a sheepish smile on his face.

“No, I’m just surprised,” he replied, extending his hand to gesture with his fingers.“So let me get this straight. You didn’t like me for being handsome, cool, smart, or even funny. Instead, it was because I was cute?”

A soft chuckle escaped you, now amused by how he was in such disbelief. You sat up a little to face him better, so you could explain. “Well if we’re talking about first impressions, I found you kind of annoying because you were loud and joked around a lot.”

“Hey—” he started to protest before you held your pointer finger up to signal you had more to say.

“But I think it was the day you came alone to the cafê I was working at,” you continued, trying to recall the memory. “And remember how you got a brain freeze because you drank the smoothie I made for you too quickly? I don’t know, I just thought you looked cute.”

The boy beside you then covered his face with his hands, muttering, “Okay now that’s just embarrassing.”

Out of all his noteworthy moments that could have sparked interest in him, it was the one where he looked like an idiot.

You suppressed a chuckle, and gently brought his hands into yours. “Wait, I’m not finished yet.”

His deep brown eyes met yours, brimming with a blend of innocence and sulkiness. Gosh, he was even more endearing when he wasn’t trying to be. A warm smile stretched across your lips.

“It took about three months into our relationship for me to figure out that I loved you,” you admitted softly, nervously playing with his fingers again. “I realized that we’re both kind of emotionally closed off to people around us. But neither of us is afraid to be vulnerable with each other.”

Haechan could see the sparkle in your eyes as you expressed your fondness for him, and suddenly his eyes also glistened with emotion. 

“What is this? You weren’t supposed to get so serious,” he chuckled nervously.

A faint blush appeared across your cheeks, as you wiped the first tear from his cheek. Honestly, your heartstrings were also being tugged as you reminisced the memory of falling in love with Haechan.

“It’s true though. I’m so blessed to have you in my life, Hyuck.”

The tenderness in your voice only heightened his emotions. Sighing, he leaned his head back on the couch, trying to stop the tears from flowing. “Baby, if you say one more sweet thing, I might just burst,” he joked.

You couldn’t help but laugh at his dramatics, the warmth continuing to fill the atmosphere. Gently, you brought his face to your level and planted a soft peck on his lips.

“Was that okay?” you asked playfully, already anticipating the teasing you were about to receive from him.

Unexpectedly, however, Haechan blinked at you for a few seconds as if he were in a daze. Then without further hesitation, he pulled you closer and crashed you into a longer, hungrier kiss that poured out all the love and emotion he felt in that moment. As you melted into each other’s embrace, you were once again reassured that the two of you were meant for each other.

Sigh. Haechan really was the cutest.

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

previous masterlist -> current masterlist

#nct dream #nctzen #kpop #czennie #nct dream imagines #nct dream fluff #nct dream scenarios #nct 127 #nct 127 fluff #nct 127 imagines #haechan imagines #haechan #haechan scenarios #haechan x reader #haechan fluff