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midniqhtt · 2 days ago

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ᯓ★ clark kent - superman

𝜗𝜚 masterlist • dc • 08/03/25

˚‧⁺ ･ ˖ · ୨ৎ recs four I one I two I three II gif credit - @/olympain

here are some clark kent stories i’ve read, loved, and reblogged. all the admiration for the writers who share their talent so generously. please be sure to read the warnings on each fic. and if you enjoy them, let the author know by a comment, reblog, or both! ♡

ᝰ.ᐟ key: A- angst I F- fluff I S- smut I C- comfort I HC- hurt/comfort I ~S- implied smut

ꨄ︎ deadlines & (super) secrets I @spideystevie I F

clark’s repeatedly absent at work and you’re too inquisitive for your own good or three times you were suspicious of clark kent and the one time you got it right

ꨄ︎ one minute left to live I @bodhiscurls I A

the world is ending and superman has done all he can, but there's one thing left for clark kent to do and that's to stay by your side as the earth burns itself whole.

ꨄ︎ you didn’t kiss me goodbye I @/bodhiscurls I A + F

after an arguement with your boyfriend, clark kent does the unthinkable. he doesn't come home, doesn't kiss you goodbye and doesn't return until its midnight and you've fallen asleep on your sofa. good job, clark still has the goodnight kiss to redeem himself.

ꨄ︎ now that we don’t talk I @/bodhiscurls I A

clark kent has to prove himself that he's loyal, that despite his consistent wandering absences and emergency leave, he can be trusted to be chief editor at the daily planet. and that means having to ask the one person in the world who hates him more than anything to play pretend as his date (his wife) at the next gala. to show the world clark kent is loyal, the picture of stability and did not ruin his only serious relationship he's ever had.

ꨄ︎ eight legs too many I @iamgonnagetyouback I F

you panic over a bug and knock on your neighbor’s door for help. good thing your neighbor is clark kent. and he's stupidly hot.

ꨄ︎ foolish hearts I @tw1sters I HC

Loving Clark Kent is easy, but he seems to find letting you go even easier. At least, until Clark is forced to fully reckon with what it means to really lose you.

ꨄ︎ teacher!clark - single!mom hc I @plumisa I F

ꨄ︎ the version of you i’ll never know I @zziggerang I HC

You knew Clark had a past. Everyone does. But sometimes, in the quiet of your shared bed, the ghost of a woman you’ve never met lingers in your thoughts, Lois. You’re not jealous of her now. You’re jealous of the version of Clark she got to love before you. The one unscarred by loss. As your quiet insecurities rise to the surface, Clark holds you through your fears… while quietly wrestling with his own.

ꨄ︎ hanging up without saying ‘i love you’ prank I @/zziggerang I F

You decide to prank Clark by hanging up on him without saying “I love you.” It’s just a harmless TikTok trend, right?

ꨄ︎ reporter gets interviewed I @08luvmailz I F

ꨄ︎ drabble I @marvelimaginesyesplease I F + ~S

ꨄ︎ must be a secret admirer I @francixoxoxo I F

Clark is even worse at hiding your workplace relationship than he was at hiding his massive crush on you. A recounting of three times where Clark nearly gives the two of you away, just because his loverboy self can’t help it.

ꨄ︎ don’t be late I @katsu28 I F + A

if one thing is true about clark kent, it’s that he likes his coffee. he also likes the barista who makes it for him, but you don’t know that. all you know is that you like the really cute guy who comes in at the same time every morning and orders the same thing.

ꨄ︎ just a scratch I @octraiin I F

Your boyfriend shows up at your window late at night injured.

ꨄ︎ outfield I @familyvideostevie I F

You and Clark go to a baseball game.

ꨄ︎ megaphone to my chest pt2 I @alwritey-aphrodite I C

ꨄ︎ melt with you I @moonlight-prose I F + S

clark kent was a man of many talents. being the chef - the man who could whip up enough food to keep you sated and full for till the sun crested over the horizon and peeked through his windows - was one of them. but you were...a mess in the kitchen. so he decides to help.

ꨄ︎ dripping like honey I @/moonlight-prose I S

clark kent absolutely gets drunk eat pussy.

ꨄ︎ ice cream I @sunflowersteves I F + S

It was a particuarly hot day in Metropolis, why not treat yourself to some ice cream?

ꨄ︎ beach day confessions and first kisses I @fleurbly I F

ꨄ︎ clark kent thinks you’re avoiding him…you are I @raven-dor I A + F

ꨄ︎ state of grace I @auroralwriting I F

when another metahuman decides to relocate to metropolis, how is it that clark always gets swept up in situations like these? aka, how does clark kent end up falling head over heels for the invisible woman?

ꨄ︎ mastermind I @/auroralwriting I F

as one of the daily planet's most popular gossip column writers, clark is surprised to learn you're a genius when it comes to superman. he's also surprised to learn you aren't all heels and makeup

ꨄ︎ terminally ill!reader I @vaamppiraa I A

ꨄ︎ you light up the skies above me ao3 I @cremedelabrulee I F

You felt like a floosy, making heart eyes at Clark when he wasn't paying attention and sighing over Superman in your private moments. In an effort to feel not as awful, you would say to yourself that Supernova was the one who liked Superman. But you? You liked Clark.

ꨄ︎ cause i’m a punk rocker I @bippiti I F + A + S

you moved to smallville because you had to save your family's farm. it was a place you never wanted to stay at but also couldn't escape. then you met him: quiet, steady, and the one person who saw through your walls. slowly, without warning he became the part of you you didn't even know you were missing

ꨄ︎ the necklace I @404superman I S

You get Clark a silly little gift, a necklace with his ‘superman’ logo on it. He loves it when you bite it while he’s fucking you.

ꨄ︎ same old love pt2 I @supermanthisho I A + C

Clark’s meeting your parents for the first time and yet you’re the one on the verge of panic. Aka, reader has a strained relationship with her family and doesn’t want Clark to see how she fits into the dynamic.

ꨄ︎ shattered vows pt2 I @k-a-n65 I A

When Lex Luthor traps Superman in a kryptonite-laced prison, he exploits a hidden connection—an ordinary woman who once helped him to his feet. She becomes the perfect bait. But when she falls, everything Clark Kent thought he could endure shatters.

ꨄ︎ fangirl!reader I @dollfacefantasy I F

ꨄ︎ they call it puppy love pt2 I @vitoriadior I F

you used to have a dog with Lex. Now Lex uses "joint custody" of the dog as an excuse to stay in your life. When you start dating Clark, Lex holds the dog hostage. Luckily for you, Superman is always there for you.

ꨄ︎ out of harms way I @maikorian I A + F

there's no such thing as a 'normal' day in metropolis. monster attacks happen at least once a week and barely anyone is phased anymore. everyone's golden rule is that if something bad has already happened earlier in the day, then you would be safe for the rest of the day. unfortunately, this rule fails you when you decide to bring your daughter to the park and get caught up in a monster attack. its a good thing your husband just so happens to be superman and has a sharp ear.

ꨄ︎ superdaddy I @goldsainz I F

your five year old daughter does not understand why clark owns a superman suit in his closet.

ꨄ︎ kissing booth I @mcumorningstar I F

In an attempt to get closer to his crush, Clark offers to help with the school carnival… until he is assigned the kissing booth.

ꨄ︎ what happens in vegas, doesn’t stay in vegas…? I @14thgalerie I F + A

ꨄ︎ blind boxes and xray visions I @/14thgalerie I F

ꨄ︎ lovestruck and looking out the window pt2 I @tangledinlove I A + F

you see your friend clark without his glasses for the first time. he looks… oddly familiar

ꨄ︎ smallville nights I @springtyme I C

After the explosion, Clark brings you and your daughter back to his parent's farm to catch your breath. The house is quiet now, but inside, fear and guilt still echo louder than any blast.

ꨄ︎ the truth in blue I @happy74827 I F

Through a temporary life-threatening situation, you realize the quiet, awkward man you've honestly fallen for has been catching you in more ways than one

ꨄ︎ understandably so I @eulogiez I A + F

clark kent is overwhelmed by his affection for you, and your relentless lack of will to see it. a gift mishap in the planet office gives you the false pretense that clark’s just not that into you, leading to a dramatic turn of events between you two.

ꨄ︎ bimbo!reader I @missmookie I F + ~S

ꨄ︎ heartbeat I @athenalvss I A + F

Your greatest wish with Clark was to start a family, but life wasn't on your side.

ꨄ︎ save the cat, get the girl I @oldesigns I F

when your cat went missing, there was a man willing to search for your fur baby to the ends of the earth to make you happy.

ꨄ︎ little white lie I @munsster I F

You think of the perfect excuse to get the attention of Metropolis’ finest firefighter.

ꨄ︎ camgirl!reader I @nympheagain I S

In which Clark Kent has a dirty secret. And it just so happens to be you.

ꨄ︎ different kind of kiss I @luveline I S

You realise nobody’s ever gone down on Clark before and aim to change that.

ꨄ︎ request I @/luveline I F

ꨄ︎ giving in I @/luveline I F

Clark is so completely oblivious to your flirting that you start to wonder if he even understands what flirting is. (He does, and he can prove it.)

ꨄ︎ two places at once I @cherrysinner I F

clark has to figure out a way to be at two places at once when half of metropolis is having an emergency on the night he's going to tell you his biggest secret. and also that he's superman.

ꨄ︎ just a taste I @certifiedskywalker I F

Clark has developed a habit of bringing you one of your favorite drinks when you’re working late at night at The Daily Planet. It’s a sweet gesture, but, considering that you’re falling in love with him, it’s also a torturous. Luckily, fate intervenes through the whims of a horny barista.

ꨄ︎ what he comes home to I @mattsmadness I F

When Clark Kent invites his coworkers over for supper, all he wants is for them to love his sweet, small-town wife; he just hopes they overlook the Superman decor she forgot to take down.

ꨄ︎ love, all night long I @barnesonfilm I S

clark makes pulling an all-nighter at the office worth it

ꨄ︎ the love list I @stevebabey I A + F

You’ve been in love before, okay? And it’s… alright, you guess. You’re sensitive. And you miss jokes, and you’re stuck wondering if it’s you who’s just not getting it. Love. Enter Clark Kent — mutual friend recently turned boyfriend, sweetheart, and small-town farm boy. Also the man who’s making you question everything you know about love. Which isn’t a lot. Better make a list.

ꨄ︎ missed calls and make-ups I @redrebecca I A + F

Clark stands you up on your first date. It turns out he has a pretty decent explanation.

ꨄ︎ thought i lost you I @rainymitskicain I A + C

Ever since a photo of you and Superman kissing was leaked and went viral, you have tried to keep a low profile. Never going public about your meta-human abilities or telling anyone besides Clark. While he uses his abilities to be Superman, your abilities come in handy at the end of the fight to heal him. When you get taken by Luthor, you start to understand the consequences of that picture.

ꨄ︎ stress relief I @pyronovas I S

Clark needs a moment out of his head and your hands, fortunately, worked like magic.

ꨄ︎ learning the ropes I @deakyjoe I S

Whilst writing an article on spicing up the bedroom, you’re surprised when your close friend volunteers to help you experiment and investigate.

ꨄ︎ the space where you forgot me I @danitcx I HC

Clark Kent had never raised his voice. His love was gentle, his presence steady. But when he began to slip away—through silence, missed dates, and unanswered texts—the quiet hurt more than any argument ever could. Until she decided to leave… and he realized the only way to save her was to show her who was truly behind the mask.

#just in time for the weekend #clark kent #clark kent x reader #superman #superman x reader #clark kent x you #clark kent x y/n #superman x you #superman x y/n #clark kent fic recs #superman fic recs #clark kent smut #clark kent angst #clark kent fluff #clark kent fic #clark kent imagine

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rafecameronssl4t · 2 days ago

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History || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: You and Rafe used to hook up at parties—casual, no strings. Until suddenly, he’s seeing someone else: Sofia. She’s polite. Too polite. You sense the shift, and it makes your skin crawl. Especially when you realise she had no idea about you and Rafe’s past.

Warnings: slight angst if u squint

Word count: 1,921

MASTERLIST

It was always supposed to be nothing. That was the unspoken rule. You and Rafe were never anything official. You were just two privileged, reckless Kooks with too much free time and too many late-night parties to burn through.

Rafe would show up late to parties—cologne clinging to his skin, shirt half buttoned, that cocky smirk already knowing you’d end up leaving with him. Or maybe he’d find you first, hand slipping around your waist like it was second nature. You’d play it cool. You always played it cool. Never texted first.

Never asked where he was when he wasn’t at the party. It wasn’t love. It was just convenient. Familiar. Fun. It started after that summer bonfire when you ended up in the backseat of his truck, your dress hiked up and your lipstick smeared, both of you breathing hard and drunk on each other.

From there, it was sporadic. Sometimes every weekend, sometimes a few months of silence. But it always found its way back—those looks across the room, the heat between you when his hand brushed your hip on his way to the bar, the way he said your name like it tasted too good to forget.

No strings. No questions. Until, of course, Sofia.

The first time you saw them together, it didn’t hit like a punch to the gut. More like a slow, sharp twist. A realisation. She was everything your relationship with Rafe wasn’t. Polished. Public. Safe. He held her hand. Bought her drinks. Let her sit in his lap by the fire pit like he didn’t once tell you he hated when girls clung to him like that.

He didn’t look at you once. Not when you walked past in that white minidress—the one he once yanked up in the back of his car. Not even when you caught eyes with Topper and Kelce and they did that thing where they glanced between the two of you like shit’s about to go down.

Nope. Rafe didn’t blink. Not until later, when you caught him sneaking glances during the bonfire. But by then, Sofia was curled into his side like a house cat, and you were halfway through your third drink, trying not to care.

You bumped into her at a boutique event, some champagne-soaked fundraiser for a Figure 8 charity you didn’t care about. She approached you like you were an old friend, voice sugary sweet and words laced with that fake Southern charm girls like her wore like a necklace.

“You’re Y/n, right? I’ve heard about you,” she chirped, smile a little too tight. “Guessing not from Rafe.” That caught her off guard. A flicker in her expression. Small, but enough. She let out a high-pitched laugh and tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. “No, just from around. People talk, you know?”

“Sure,” you said, letting your gaze drift past her for a moment. “People love to talk.” “I didn’t realise you and Rafe were… like, close,” she added, voice casual but the kind of casual that was trying too hard. You raised a brow, leaning back in your chair. “We weren’t. Just had some fun. At parties. You know how it is.”

Sofia’s smile froze for half a second. It was almost impressive how quickly she recovered. “Oh,” she blinked. “I didn’t know that.” Of course she didn’t. Of course he didn’t tell her. Why would he? That would complicate things. God forbid his perfect little brunch date knew he used to have you bent over the marble counter in his dad’s pool house.

“Well,” she said, plastering on that sugar-sweet grin again. “That was before, right? Ancient history.” You looked at her, one brow arching. “That’s one way to put it.”There was a beat—just long enough to catch the flicker of something bitter in her eyes.

“Well,” she said brightly, “I mean, everyone has a past, right? No big deal.” “Sure,” you said, voice flat. She nodded. Smiled wider. But her eyes? Her eyes looked like she wanted to throw her mimosa in your face.

You didn’t even plan to tell Rafe. But you saw him again a few days later, walking out of the golf shop with a cigarette tucked behind his ear and that same smug look he always wore when he knew he looked good. And maybe it was the heat. Or the memory of Sofia’s stupid fake-smile.

Or maybe it was just that you hated how small it made you feel—like you were something shameful, something to be tucked away and never mentioned. So you called out, “Hey, Romeo.” He turned, cocking a brow. You approached slowly, arms crossed. “Just wanted to let you know—your girl knows we used to fuck.”

His expression didn’t change at first. Just a beat of silence as he studied you. Then he exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “She ask?” he muttered. “Not exactly. Tried to play it off. But she didn’t know. And I’m guessing that’s because you never told her.”Rafe’s jaw flexed. “It wasn’t serious, Y/n.”

“No shit, Rafe” you snapped. “But maybe next time, don’t act like I’m some dirty little secret. You want to date a wannabe Barbie, fine. Just don’t let her pretend I’m some story she made up.” He looked at you then—really looked at you. Like he was seeing the edge in your voice, the tightness in your throat. You hated that your heart was pounding. Hated that part of you still cared.

“She’s not like that,” he said quietly. “She’s just—”“Insecure?” you cut in. “Territorial? Trying to be sweet while throwing daggers with her eyes?” His silence was answer enough. You scoffed, shaking your head. “Whatever, Rafe. You do what you want. Just keep your new girl from playing nice with me if she’s got a problem.”

You turned to walk away, but his voice followed. “You miss it?” You froze. He didn’t say it smugly. Didn’t even sound cocky. Just honest. You didn’t turn around. “Do you?” Silence. Then the soft flick of a lighter. You didn’t need to hear his answer. You already knew.

Then came the party. Midsummer. Loud music. Liquor running like tap water. Someone’s sprawling beach house packed with every Kook under 25. You were leaning against the kitchen counter, laughing with some guy you barely knew when you saw him—Rafe, walking in alone.

You didn’t let your smile falter. But it pulled at your mouth in a different way. No Sofia on his arm. Just him. And that tension that never really left. He made his way through the room slow, taking it all in, until finally, his eyes met yours. You tipped your cup toward him. “Where’s your shadow?”

He smirked. “Gone.” “Gone like… the bathroom? Or gone like dumped-your-ass gone?” He slid up next to you, close enough to smell the expensive cologne and beer on his breath. “Broke it off.” You blinked. “Seriously?” “She couldn’t drop it,” he muttered, eyes on your lips, then flicking back up to meet your gaze.

“The whole you and me thing.” Your laugh was automatic. Sharp. “What, she thought she was your first?” He chuckled once. “Nah. She just couldn’t get over how long you and I… kept going.” That stopped you. Your brow rose slowly. “What, she thought we hooked up one time at a party and called it?”

“She knew I had a past,” Rafe said, eyes still on you, like he was seeing every memory at once. “But she didn’t know how far back we went. Or how many times we didn’t say it was over.” You looked away, shaking your head. “Jesus. That girl needs a thicker skin.” “She thought you were a phase.”

You scoffed, drinking again. “I was.” Rafe leaned in, voice low now, almost private. “Yeah, well… funny how none of the others lasted half as long as you.” Your heart skipped once. Stupidly. You rolled your eyes. “Don’t flatter me, Cameron.” “I’m not,” he said, eyes burning into yours now. “It’s just the truth.”

And for a second, there it was again—that heat. That thing between you. Dangerous and familiar and reckless. You looked at him, heart thudding louder than the bass vibrating through the floor. But before it could go any further, you pushed off the counter and shrugged. “Guess she should’ve done her homework.”

You left him standing there. Because if you didn’t, you weren’t sure what would happen next. And you’d already made that mistake before. But God, did it feel good knowing he still remembered every single time. And that she never stood a chance.

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checkeredflagggs · 3 days ago

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To Paint a Picture: Pentimenti

Pairing: max verstappen x webber vettel!reader

summary: y/n webber vettel swore she was done with formula 1 and race drivers forever. max is determined to change her mind

a/n: I’ve had this piece rumbling about in my mind since like November so I’m really excited to actually start posting it!

a/n2: yeah this consumed my thoughts and demanded that I write it next

a/n3: art is by anastasia trusova

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Private Messages, the Uncles

Private Messages, Hanna and yn

Private Messages, Sebastian and yn

Private Messages, Max and Victoria and Sophie

Private Messages, Mick and yn

not_yn🔒

liked by mick, gina, lance, and 19 others

not_yn: I shouldn’t find this charming…don’t tell the parental figures

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gina: ok but those are so pretty?

↳not_yn: they are — and he’s handwritten some poetry in each one

↳gina: oh he’s so down bad for you already…

↳gina: which poems?

↳not_yn: “I realized I was thinking of you, and I began to wonder how long you’d been on my mind. Then it occurred to me: Since I met you, you’ve never left” was the latest

↳gina: so cute! He’s been thinking of you since he met you?? I call maid of honor at the wedding

↳not_yn: not happening! No weddings 🙅🏼‍♀️

↳gina: 😂😂

mick: well at least he’s moved on from bad pick up lines

↳not_yn: that is a positive…

↳mick: admit it — you love it

↳not_yn: I’ll admit nothing of the sort

↳mick: so we’re resting in denial…

lance: You’re dating someone? Why am I the last to know?

↳not_yn: I’m not dating anyone Lance — I wouldn’t keep that info from you

↳mick: max is completely down bad for her

↳lance: verstappen?? You’re dating Verstappen??

↳not_yn: I’m NOT dating anyone

↳lance: a Vettel/Verstappen relationship…we’re all doomed liked by mick

↳not_yn: Lance…

Bluesky

user1: I feel…confused?

↳user2: didn’t he once say that he’s only read 2 books before?

↳user3: well now it’s 3?

user4: I didn’t know that was something he knew how to do…

user5: he’s reading…an art book?

↳user6: what kind of art book?

↳user5: I think it’s art history?

↳user6: …that’s kinda cool actually

user7: I bet it’s because of a girl

↳user8: it’s always because of a girl

↳user9: what kind of a girl is enough to get his attention from racing to…Art history?

↳user8: the kind you keep

↳user7: the forever kind

yn_vettel🔒

liked by seb5priv, lewis44, nando, jenson_priv, and 291 others

yn_vettel: some new inspiration and cat toys

view all comments

seb5priv: blümchen tell me you didn’t get 2 massive cat trees?

↳yn_vettel: ok

↳seb5priv: blümchen…

↳yn_vettel: you told me not to tell you!

nando: pequeña?

↳yn_vettel: ¡Estoy esperando el informe semanal! I’m waiting for the weekly debrief!

↳seb5priv: so there is something!

danric: those are looking good!

↳yn_vettel: thanks Dan! Got a piece ready for you!

↳danric: yes!

lewis44: is the lavender one available?

↳yn_vettel: how much are you offering?

↳lewis44: what?

↳yn_vettel: I’m an actual artist now — I’ve even got some commissions.

↳yn_vettel: so how much are you offering?

↳jenson_priv: I’ll pay double whatever he offers

↳nico_r: triple it!

↳nando: too late

↳lewis44: this is terrorism

↳yn_vettel: I think it’s capitalism actually

↳lewis44: 😑😑

↳seb5priv: I think you both need to go back to school…

Private Messages, the Uncles

not_yn🔒

liked by gina, mick, and 16 others

not_yn: my studio has been taken over by flowers and poems…

view all comments

gina: and you’re…complaining?

↳not_yn: I’m not saying anything

↳gina: so you’re absolutely loving this!

↳not_yn: stop talking

mick: he’s winning you over isn’t he?

↳not_yn: go away!

↳mick: so when do I get to say I told you so?

↳not_yn: never!

Private Messages, Max and yn

Private Messages, Nando and yn

Taglist

If you want to join my taglist, interact with my taglist post. I won’t be adding anyone else

@daniskywalkersolo @thenerdysimp @quinquinquincy @lecfosimaxbull @gr3yhues @armystay89 @simplylovelysworld @mimisweetz @angelluv16 @hamiltonforwdc @alexxavicry @suns3treading @ymrereads @monzipan @stuffyownswrld @kuolonsyoja @ky14-1 @devilacot @justheretoreadthxxs @minrayven @albonoracers @hc-dutch @somerandomf1fan @purplephantomwolf @shadowreader07 @spilled-coffee-cup @galaxygurlll @anamiad00msday @freyathehuntress @widow-cevans @1-of-my-many-obsessions @charlesgirl16 @ihaveitprinteddout @deena-beena-weena @lilyofthevalley-09 @nightrose-18 @kodeelyn @star73807-blog @avengers-assemble123456 @howling-wolf97 @boke-hinata-boke @hannahmotors10 @mountainshuman @daisydaze111 @evie-119 @shadowreader07 @r0nnsblog @1800-love-me @edgyficuselastica

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aventurineswife · 3 days ago

Note

Good day/afternoon/ evening to you!! I see that your requests are open and I must say that every work of yours is SCRUMPTIOUS each time ❤️. Thank you for all the work you've done for us and please don't forget to rest from time to time!

For my request, what if yandere Aventurine, phainon, Sunday, and Dan heng (separate) got an affectionate darling? Presumably, the darling type that likes and doesn't get mad when they are given affection. Like the darling wants more of receiving affection. Also probably by that time, the darling is really close to them and aren't that scared anymore. That's all! Thanks very much!

Cradled in Obsession

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Phainon x Reader, Dan Heng x Reader, Sunday x Reader, Yandere Men, Affectionate Darling, Established Relationship, Soft Possessiveness, Fluff with Dark Undertones, Obsessive Behavior, Emotional Dependency, Protective/Yandere Themes, Reader is Very Affectionate, Gentle Intimacy, Subtle Psychological Control, Delicate Power Dynamics, Devoted/Clingy Reader, Touch-Starved Dynamics, Hurt/Comfort (Implied).

Warnings: Yandere Behavior, Possessiveness, Obsessive Love, Psychological Manipulation, Emotional Dependency, Power Imbalance, Manipulative Affection, Soft Dark Themes, Subtle Isolation, Intense Devotion, Mild Codependency, Non-Violent Control, Clingy Dynamics, Touch-Starved Interactions.

A/N: thank you so much!! I'll try my best! 🥹💖

Dan Heng stood silently in the Archives, fingers resting on the bindings of old tomes, but his eyes were on you. Always you. No matter how far you wandered on the Express, he’d always feel it—the tether between you both, taut and invisible.

You interrupted his thoughts by appearing in the doorway, arms full of steaming tea and a soft smile that somehow felt like forgiveness for sins he never told you about.

“Dan Heng?” you asked gently. “You’ve been holed up all day.”

He hesitated. You were so warm, so soft, so trusting—it made something dark stir inside him. Something old. Something he buried with Cloud-Piercer in blood-soaked memory. But when you looked at him like that, like he wasn’t a monster, how could he not want to keep you forever?

“I... didn’t want to leave you unguarded,” he murmured. “There are still people who’d take you from me.”

You set the tea down and stepped into his space, fingers ghosting over his arm.

“I know. But you’re here now. And I’m safe when I’m with you.”

Dan Heng’s eyes lowered to your hand. You didn’t flinch from his touch. You never did anymore. His breath shook as he cupped your face.

“I don’t deserve this,” he whispered. “But I won’t let anyone else have it.”

Then he kissed you—deep, protective, desperate—like it would anchor him to the present and drown out the ghosts.

You only smiled afterward, tugging him closer.

“Then don’t let go.”

And Dan Heng didn’t. He wouldn't. Ever.

Phainon had always believed in duty. That the Heirs served Amphoreus, that sacrifice was noble, that love was a luxury warriors couldn’t afford.

Until you shattered that belief with your gentle touch.

He watched you laugh with Tribbie, sunlight catching in your hair. He should have kept his distance. He meant to. But when you had run to him after the siege, face smudged with ash, tears glistening but voice steady—“Phainon, I’m here. I’m not leaving you.”—he knew.

You were the one thing he couldn’t burn for the mission.

Now, you sat with your head in his lap, humming as he braided golden threads through your hair—just something he liked to do to remind himself you were his.

“You never flinch when I’m near,” he murmured.

“Why would I?” you asked, reaching up to hold his hand. “You’re warm. Safer than any armor.”

Phainon smiled softly, though his grip on your hand tightened. “If others knew what I’ve done to keep you near... would you still say that?”

You only tilted your head and kissed his palm.

“I already know.”

He stilled. “And yet you’re still here.”

“I’ll always be. Even if the whole world burns down around us.”

His heart swelled with something dangerous and beautiful.

“Then let it burn,” he said.

And in his arms, you felt the heat of both divine power and undying love.

Sunday had always been afraid of touch.

Not because it hurt, but because it healed too much.

When he let you into his room—bathed in the glow of floating sigils and soft ambient music—you didn’t ask questions. You simply walked to him, wrapped your arms around him, and let his halo hum in quiet rhythm.

“You’re warm tonight,” you murmured, fingers brushing the wing behind his ear. “Were you thinking of me again?”

He chuckled weakly. “Always. You’re the only thing I haven’t exiled from my dreams.”

You leaned in, eyes reflecting his own. “That’s good. Because I want to stay. Even in the parts you think are too broken.”

He closed his eyes, burying his face into your shoulder, wings fluttering softly.

“I’ve watched utopias collapse for the sake of mercy. Let people sleep forever rather than face pain. But you...” His voice trembled. “You make me want to stay awake.”

You kissed his forehead, fingertips curling over the white strap on his waist.

“I love all of you, Sunday. Even the pieces you think are too dangerous to share.”

His halo pulsed.

And he whispered, voice so quiet only your soul heard: “Then I’ll destroy anything that tries to take you from me.”

Your smile was serene. “I know.”

“You know,” Aventurine drawled, lying upside down on the couch with you lazily sprawled over his chest, “most people run when they figure out how deep my claws go.”

You giggled, finger tracing the curve of his spade cutout. “Lucky for you, I like dangerous things.”

A grin bloomed across his face, wide and wolfish. “Gods, you’re perfect.”

His hands, adorned with rings and sin, stroked your back possessively. “You’re not scared of me?”

“Why should I be? You’re soft with me.”

“I’m obsessed with you,” he corrected, voice dipping dangerously. “I have blackmail on half the IPC to keep them away. I’ve poisoned deals that dared try to involve your name.”

Your lips brushed against his collarbone. “And I love how far you’ll go to protect what’s yours.”

He froze.

No one had ever called him protection. Just a parasite, a gambler, a liar.

But you curled into him like he was sanctuary.

He cupped your face, eyes glinting with something manic and pure. “You’re mine, sweetheart. The house. The jackpot. The endgame.”

You kissed him hard, tugging his hair.

“Then bet on me.”

He laughed—giddy, dangerous, enamored.

“Oh darling. I already rigged the game in our favor.”

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drafts-and-delusions · 2 days ago

Note

hi! i wanna ask for a jealous baby x gn!reader fic lol. he’s my favourite saja and i really need more of him. Even what i write doesn’t satisfy my brain worms. Hope you can write this!

No One Else Gets This

Tags: gn!reader, fluff with possessive undertones, jealous!baby, protective behavior, first relationship, public date setting, food market date

ahhh baby saja... proper name.... place name... backstory stuff...

He’s never done this before. Not the dating part; the public part. The walking-around-with-someone-he-likes kind of thing. His hoodie is zipped up, cap pulled low, silver chain tucked beneath his shirt. Sunglasses hang from his collar, more for show than anything. The market lights above cast a soft, uneven warmth over everything.

You’re beside him, chewing on a pork skewer with sauce smeared on your cheek. You're grinning at nothing in particular, swaying slightly with the music playing from someone’s portable speaker a few stalls away.

He could stay in this moment forever.

Then someone ruins it.

“Hey,” a voice says behind you. “Sorry, just couldn’t help noticing you. You’re really cute.”

You blink and start to turn, confused. There’s a guy—probably your age, maybe a little older. Relaxed posture. Easy smile. The type that seems harmless.

But not harmless enough.

Before you can open your mouth, Baby steps in front of you. Not fast or aggressive, just decisive. He doesn’t raise his voice. Doesn’t square up or curse the guy out. But something shifts in the air, heavy and tense. You feel it immediately; the kind of pressure that makes your skin crawl without knowing why.

“They’re not available,” Baby says. His voice is calm, but final.

The guy puts his hands up, defensive. “Whoa, I didn’t know—chill, man.”

“I am chill,” Baby replies. His tone doesn’t change, but his eyes are different now. Flat. Unreadable. “That was me being polite.”

The guy mutters something and disappears into the crowd.

You peek out from behind Baby, raising your brow. “You good?”

He turns to you, jaw tight.

“He looked at you like he thought he had a shot,” he mutters.

“He asked if I was single. You answered before I could.”

He squints a little. “Yeah. You’re welcome.”

You try not to laugh. “You really don’t like it when people talk to me, huh?”

He doesn’t answer. Just pulls out another skewer from the bag and starts chewing, eyes darting back and forth like he’s still on edge.

“I’ve never dated anyone before,” he says after a long pause. “Never had to share someone. Never wanted to.”

You go quiet for a second. Not because you don’t know what to say—just letting him have space to finish.

He finally looks at you again. “But then there’s you. And I want to be out here with you. Want to eat greasy food and go on walks like we’re normal people. But no one else should get to look at you like that.”

You don’t respond right away. You reach up and wipe a little sauce from the corner of his mouth with your sleeve.

“You’re kind of hot when you’re scary,” you say.

He chokes slightly on the skewer.

“I’m always hot,” he grumbles. “Even when I’m not scary.”

You press a kiss to his cheek. “You’re doing great, first-time boyfriend.”

He scoffs. “Shut up. I’d fight a whole crowd for you.”

You smile. “I know.”

The two of you go back to eating under the warm, blinking market lights. And for a while, it really does feel normal.

#signed sealed served #join the pride #baby saja #baby saja x reader #kpdh #kpop demon hunters

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elixirfromthestars · 3 days ago

Text

You had me the moment you said roommates and pining idiots in love! 🙂‍↕️💖💖

More under the cut ᯓᡣ𐭩

Trouble is that Bucky Barnes is the type of guy that makes it very, very difficult not to fall for him.

^ Can’t even blame you, you are so right about that 🙂‍↕️🩷

You’d almost spat your drink in her face when she waved him over to where you were sitting, because there was no way in hell a man called James looked like that.

^ You know what…I’ve never thought about that…but yeah James doesn’t really seem to be like a hot guys name 😂

Natasha glanced between the two of you with that smug look of hers, and you shot her a warning glare because she knew. She knew from the moment you awkwardly shook Bucky’s hand that he was gonna mean trouble for you, with his leather jacket and his blue eyes and his fucking horrible tendency to be both suave and sheepish within the same sentence.

^ Trouble indeed 😩💗💗

Thankfully, you come up with a brilliant plan about a month into your new living arrangement. Or rather, your friends do. “You should kill him.”

^ OMG 💀

“All the things that piss me off?” you ask doubtfully. “I want my crush to go away, not make my apartment unbearable to live in.”

^ Yeah, it seems like a good idea, but it could backfire so badly 😬

Slowly, an empty smile on your face, you pull out your phone. Bucky, you are an actual horrible disgusting psychopath, you type with a forced sense of serenity. who tf drinks milk straight from the bottle.

^ To be fair…straight from the bottle is a bit diabolical 💀

Because the truth is, Bucky Barnes absolutely aggravates you sometimes, and it’s good to remind yourself of those times when he’s once again wandering around the apartment in nothing but his sweatpants.

^ Just in his sweatpants?? what a MENACE 🫠💕💕

“So? You don’t see me strip naked.” His smile is lazy, but his eyes sparkle with amusement as he turns his page. “I know, and it’s a shame.”

^ This is why I could never be his roommate, his flirting wouldn’t be good for my heart 😩💘💘

“Dot might,” you mumble, but he ignores you. Not that you expected him to; his on-again, off-again relationship has been a topic of contention for a while now, and not because of you.

^ Okay well…now I’m devastated 🥲

“Is that mine?” Bucky finally glances at you, looking almost bashful. “You said it was good.” You blink in surprise. You did say that, but not to him. You remember telling Colleen how much you loved it the last time you were facetiming in the living room while Bucky was perched at the kitchen counter with a bored, absent expression on his face as he silently scrolled through something on his phone.

^ He’s reading a book because she mentioned it was good?? 😩💕 omg that’s so cute 🥹🩷

There are days, despite your best efforts, that you still let yourself hope. Like when Bucky makes enough pancakes for dinner to feed an entire football team and you talk about the book he’s borrowed over maple syrup and jam until it’s eleven at night. Or when you’re out with your mutual group of friends and his gaze always finds yours after he’s made a joke, as if to gage your reaction, as if to make sure to catch a spark of amusement in your eyes.

^ Ahhhhh, it’s the little things that always tell you how someone feels 😭🩷🩷

Bucky freezes mid turn, clearly not having expected you to notice him. “Sorry,” he says. “I just got home.” Your stare remains fixed on the table. Your favorite mug is filled to the brim with tea, placed delicately on the previously empty coaster next to your pile of books. “You looked like you needed it,” he continues, and your heart swells. “Thank you,” you mumble and he shrugs. “Dinner should be here in twenty, if you want some.”

^ Omg he cares about her so much 🥺🩷🩷 The way he makes sure she’s comfortable and has what she needs 🥺🩷

“You know,” you say, leaning your head against the wall. “When I was little, I used to think these clouds were made of cotton candy.” Bucky doesn’t laugh, but you feel the smile radiating from him without even turning. It’s like that, between you. Random thoughts are never weird. Only there to be outweirded. “I used to think the moon was made of cheese,” he offers tonight. You do laugh, then, short and loud. When you meet his eyes again, they’re the color of the darkest parts of the sky, and the look on his face is indescribable. Almost like surprise. It sends a chill through you. “What?” you say, and he shakes his head. A car alarm goes off in the distance, and you avert your gaze again, pulling the blanket tighter around your shoulders. Bucky’s phone vibrates with a message, but he doesn’t duck inside like you expect him to. Instead, you both sit there until the sun has fully disappeared, and something seems to settle.

^ This moment right here is so beautiful 🥺🩷 The imagery of this scene is just gorgeous, and the way there’s so much that’s said between them without it having to be said speaks so much to their bond 🥺🩷🩷 Like the way they find so much comfort and peace in each other’s presence speaks volumes to how deep their feelings go 🥺🩷

“No one,” you say at the same time as Darcy says, “Barnes, duh.” You give her a sharp look. She sticks her tongue out at you. Nat bumps her shoulder against yours. “How long has it been, coming up two years in June?”

^ TWO YEARS?? 😧 She’s so much stronger than me 🤧

She gasps theatrically. “He killed Fernadette? You said it was an accident!” “Plants die, Darce, it’s not a big deal.” In the moment of her outraged distraction, Nat plucks your phone from her hands.

^ He killed a plant? 💀 Oh my 💀

It’s irrevocably over with Dot when Bucky officially breaks up with her the day before Valentine’s, which is a bit extreme even by your standards, and you’ve never liked Dot.

^ I’m celebrating 🥳🥳, but also I cannot believe he did it before Valentine’s Day that’s diabolical 💀

“Dickhead,” you gasp, thinking of your nice ruined chocolates. You twist to wrangle the pillow out of his grasp, but in doing so stumble. Bucky, to his credit, tries to stop your fall, but you only take him down with you, landing uncomfortably on top of each other on the couch. Your breath hitches when you feel his weight on you, closer to him than you’ve ever dared before. There’s something in the depths of his eyes that makes it very hard to have a single coherent thought. “Maybe,” Bucky says, and there’s a tiny crack in his voice as if he knows it, too, “I was sick of pretending.”

^ THE TENSION 🤭💗💗 I’m over here giggling and screaming just kiss already!! 🤭💕💕

The doorbell saves you from embarrassing yourself further. You can hear Bucky cursing under his breath as you gently shove him off you and hurry to the door, your heart still thundering.

^ Nooooooo 😩 Guess that kiss will have to wait 🥲

“That might be hours! I could starve by then!” He looks at you with his saddest puppy dog eyes, and it might have worked on you, too, had you not had this exact discussion several times before. “Please?”

^ See…those puppy dog eyes would’ve so worked on me 🫠💖💖

“Come on, sweets,” he whispers and you swear you feel all the hairs in your neck stand up. You don’t turn your head or move your arms. He leans over until his head is basically on your shoulder, his knee nudging yours, his hand sneaking for the bucket in your lap. “The popcorn. Stays. With me,” you hiss. You’re tempted to slap his fingers away, but you find yourself completely immobilized. “You said you’d share,” Bucky says into your ear. His entire arm is pressed against yours now, and it takes everything in you not to tremble. “Just let me have what’s mine.” You can only hope no one will ask you about any particulars of the movie later on.

^ There’s so much more going on between them in this scene and it makes me so giddy 🤭💕💕

You don’t expect it all to fall apart so soon after that.

^ oh no…

“I don’t know,” he says, and the unexpected iciness in his tone makes you turn around slowly. You have never seen this kind of look on his face, that coldness skewing his beautiful features into an ugly mask. In his eyes, there’s nothing, not even a trace of the fondness that swirled in them less than a minute ago. Your heart drops.

^ He saw the list didnt he ☹️💔💔

“Are you alright?” you ask softly. “Great,” he says brusquely, shoving your phone back in your hand. “In fact, I think I might go on a walk.” And without a word of goodbye, without a second glance, Bucky walks out into the opened floodgates.

^ omg I’m actually freaking out right now 💔💔

It’s then that you glance at your phone, still opened to your notes app, and your stomach plummets again as you read your own angry, frustrated words. I actually hate you, you know that? Hells even wrong with you.

^ NO, he read that?? 😭💔💔

You have to find Bucky. You have to tell him that this is all a misunderstanding, a terrible, terrible error. Youre such a fucking idiot. Your boots splash water in all directions as they hit the pavement. Slow. You’re too slow. “Bucky!” This was a mistake. I shouldve never moved in with you. When you reach the corner of the street, Bucky is long gone.

^ BUCKY 😭💔💔 Oh no, our poor boy is probably so devastated and heartbroken right now 😭💔💔

Maybe he’d come home. Maybe there’s still a chance to clear this thing up. But his shoes aren’t there when you stumble through the door, and it’s cold in here. As cold as the look in Bucky’s eyes had been.

^ Where did he go?? Come back home, please 😭💔

He looks terrible. The rain has molten off the terrible cold mask, but his expression underneath is even worse. He doesn’t meet your eye, doesn’t even acknowledge you sitting there as he walks past you, his dark circles not quite hiding the shattered, matted blue of his eyes. He doesn’t react to your saying his name again, and the bathroom door closes behind him before you can get up.

^ No because I’m actually so sad for him right now I just want to give him the biggest hug 😭💔💔

Of course, he doesn’t answer. He’s not pacing, either, like he usually does when he’s upset, but in this case, you’re not sure if that’s better or worse. Swallowing hard, you open the door. Bucky’s sitting on the edge of the bed, as if he’s been waiting for you, his head leaning heavy against his arms. He looks terribly small like this.

^ I can see this so perfectly in my head and it has my heart in distress 🤧💔

He lifts his head slowly, as if each degree it takes costs too much energy. When he finally looks at you, it almost makes you flinch. There’s a sadness inside them, mixed with tiredness, that you’ve only caught in your own reflection. For a long moment, you just stare at each other, before Bucky finally says, “Do you want me to move out?”

^ Is that why he was away?? 😭😭 That’s what he thought she wanted?? 😭💔💔

“Like, remember when you went to IKEA with Steve and I couldn’t come with you, so you got me one of those shark plushies and a whole almond cake?” You can’t help but chuckle, even though you don’t feel like it. “I tried reading into that for so long, if it was his idea or if I just got stuck in your mind.”

^ He was always thinking about her, wasn’t he? 🥺🩷😭🩷

“Or when Dot used to stay over and you’d make me an extra batch of waffles to make sure I wouldn’t feel left out. Or when we stayed up until 4 to make those Christmas cookies, even though it was September?” He huffs again. “I broke up with her that day.” You do look at him, then. “No, you didn’t.” Bucky’s still staring at the list on your phone. “I brought her the last of her stuff before Valentine’s Day. I don’t think it’d hit her before then, that she could be nasty about it all now.”

^ OH?? He’s been broken up with her this whole time 😧👀

“You’re my best friend, Buck,” you say quietly, your eyes burning. “I just didn’t … I don’t want to lose that.” “Hey.” He stands in front of you before you even notice him moving, his hands cupping your face and turning it towards his. A shuddering breath falls from your lips. “You,” Bucky continues, “could never, ever do anything to lose me.” “I almost did today,” you whisper and his face falls. “I’m sorry I ran away.” You shake your head and he pulls you into an embrace. His hair is still damp, but soft from his shower. He doesn’t smell like city rain, only the way he always does. As if it all had never happened.

^ Ahhhhhh, the reconciliation!!! 🥹🩷🩷 There’s so much love and care between them it’s so sweet 🤧💕💕

“So,” he says, and the cadence in his voice makes your heart stutter. You inadvertently move backwards, out of his grasp, and a wicked grin appears on Bucky’s lips. It’s impossible to look away. “She ‘didn’t deserve me’, huh?”

^ Not at all 🙂‍↔️🙂‍↔️✨

“At least she never ‘wanted to burn all my shirts’.” “And how would you know?” He’s still coming closer. “Just because no one’s done it …” You trail off. Bucky hums. “No one’s ever told me my eyes ‘look criminal in this light’, either. Is that a good thing or a bad thing?” “Bad,” you say, wincing as you bump into his dresser. “So bad.” He’s very close to you now, his arms trapping you on both sides, towering over you. Your eyes flit between his own and his lips. That freckle. The look on his face reminds you of late evenings on a fire escape.

^ I love their little banter after such a heavy moment 🥹🩷 And then this line the look on his face reminds you of late evenings on a fire escape was just *chef’s kiss* 🥰🥰

Bucky’s nose bumps against yours, once, twice, as if testing the waters. You don’t think you can breathe. His eyes are so dark when he looks at you, the longing suddenly bursting through the surface, and you realize you’ve both been pretending for far too long. His brows are knitted slightly, contemplative, as if he’s trying to commit you to memory. If he weren’t standing so close, you’d be shaking. “Oh, sweetheart,” he murmurs, and the words explode into a million butterflies in your stomach. “You did get stuck in my head.” And then he kisses you. The rain stops.

^ AHHHHHHHH 🥰🥰 If only you could’ve seen my immediate reaction to when I read you did get stuck in my head. 🤭💕 I love him, I adore him, what must I do to have this roommate Bucky in my life?? 😩💗💗 I’m so happy they worked things out in the end 🥹🩷🩷

Nika, my dear!!! 🥹🩷🩷 The angst in this fic was so good it had me on the edge of my seat!! 🫶🏼🫶🏼 Bucky was such a sweetheart and a flirty menace, and that combination is deadly to me like I’m instantly in love 🥰🥰 Pining idiots in love is one of my absolute favorites and you delivered that trope beautifully!! 🫶🏼🫶🏼 I went through so many emotions in this fic and I loved every second of it!! 🩷🩷

not even a little

summary: The problem of living with Bucky is that he makes it impossible not to fall in love with him. Even though you could list several hundred reasons why it’s a bad idea. And you have.

pairing: roommate!bucky barnes x reader

word count: 5.7k

warnings: pining idiots in love, slightly questionable roomie behaviour, simultaneously the softest and cockiest bucky i've written so far, blink and you miss it throwing shade at iron fist

please note that my blog is rated 18+. minors dni. ageless/empty blogs will be blocked without warning.

a/n: this is my very late submission for kathie's (@pellucid-constellations) love letters writing challenge <3 thank you for this lovely idea, writing this was a challenge indeed but that is, as they say, a me problem. also huge shoutout to @barnesafterglow and @sweetascanbee, this really and truly would still not be done without you. love you both 💛

masterlist | read on ao3

You’re screwed. You know that you’re screwed.

Surely, there’s a rule book for these kinds of situations, and rule number one tells you in big, blinking neon letters that you should absolutely, under no circumstances, not ever fall in love with your roommate. Especially not if he also happens to be your best friend.

And yet.

Trouble is that Bucky Barnes is the type of guy that makes it very, very difficult not to fall for him.

Honestly, you should have known better when Nat had suggested the two of you move in together, that night at the bar right after college, “since you’re both new in town and all”. You’d almost spat your drink in her face when she waved him over to where you were sitting, because there was no way in hell a man called James looked like that.

“Friends call me Bucky, actually,” he’d said, a smirk on his lips that went straight to your core.

So how are you supposed to say no after that?

It’s so easy to grow close to him, too. Way too easy. You fall into a routine with such effortlessness it has you wonder how you've ever managed without him at all. Grocery runs after work and movie nights on tired Friday evenings, conversations that would be nonsensical to anyone eavesdropping, dreary-eyed breakfast at 2 p.m. Quickly, it becomes difficult to remember a time in your life that didn’t include Bucky.

Needless to say, it’s a struggle.

Thankfully, you come up with a brilliant plan about a month into your new living arrangement. Or rather, your friends do.

“You should kill him.”

“Darcy!”

“What?” Darcy tucks into her mozzarella sticks. “We’d claim temporary insanity in court, if he’s that hot, there’s no way the jury wouldn’t understand.”

“You’d make an awful lawyer,” Colleen says drily, continuing to pat your head awkwardly.

Darcy raises one impeccable eyebrow. “Got some better idea to save Y/N from Barnes’ death grip, buzzkill?”

“Remember before I broke up with Danny?”

You snort at the visceral shudder that goes through Darcy. “Those were the dark days.”

“Hah.” Colleen rolls her eyes. “Anyway. I wrote down every single time he did something that pissed me off, and whenever I felt myself falling into old habits, I went over the list. Worked like a charm. I was over him like that.” She snaps her fingers.

“And thus, another national holiday was born,” Darcy says, clinking her bottle against Colleen’s. “May we always commemorate Independrandce Day to remind ourselves that bad times don’t last.”

“All the things that piss me off?” you ask doubtfully. “I want my crush to go away, not make my apartment unbearable to live in.”

“Just try it for a while, then,” Colleen shrugs. “If it doesn’t work, you can still resort to physical violence. There’s an open spot in my Thursday class.”

You’re busy Thursdays.

It’s almost surprising how little time passes until you need to take your friend’s advice. You’re just headed into the kitchen to grab a snack before you leave for work when you screech to a halt.

“What the fuck are you doing?”

Bucky turns around slowly, having the audacity to look confused even as he’s still holding the bottle. “Having a drink?”

“Of milk?” you say, trying not to actually gag. He’s lucky you’re not a milk-sharing household or you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from going off.

“Gotta keep my bones strong.” There’s a glint in his eye as he says it, too, because at this point he already knows exactly how to rile you up. He loves seeing you explode.

This time, though, you won’t give him the satisfaction.

You feel strangely better after that and another deep breath.

“I’m gonna go now,” you tell him a bit too sharply and turn on your heels. You’ll get food on your way.

It quickly turns into a habit. Every time he does something small that would normally set you off, you open your notes app and write it out, instead. It helps at least somewhat to stop romanticizing your situation. Level things out a little.

“Jesus, Buck,” you say, slumping down on the couch a few feet away from him. “Would it kill you to wear a shirt every once in a while?”

“It’s like a hundred degrees in here,” Bucky whines, not moving from where he’s reading.

“So? You don’t see me strip naked.”

His smile is lazy, but his eyes sparkle with amusement as he turns his page. “I know, and it’s a shame.”

“Fuck off, Barnes.” Your cheeks are on fire and you can only hope he can’t tell. “Nat’s gonna be here in five minutes.”

“Okay,” he says, not moving an inch.

You stare at him incredulously. “Can you please put some clothes on?”

“I am wearing clothes,” Bucky states dryly. “Besides, Nat won’t mind.”

“Dot might,” you mumble, but he ignores you. Not that you expected him to; his on-again, off-again relationship has been a topic of contention for a while now, and not because of you.

Truly, you’ve been doing a lot better lately, keeping a lid on your feelings. Which is why you’re able to look at him and his naked torso and his arms and be completely fine. Really. You pull your gaze to the book he’s holding and frown.

“Is that mine?”

Bucky finally glances at you, looking almost bashful. “You said it was good.”

You blink in surprise. You did say that, but not to him. You remember telling Colleen how much you loved it the last time you were facetiming in the living room while Bucky was perched at the kitchen counter with a bored, absent expression on his face as he silently scrolled through something on his phone.

The fact that he listened makes you choose to ignore that he’s definitely going to ruin the spine if he keeps holding the book like that.

“How do you like it?” you ask, voice slightly higher than usual.

“It’s great.” His smile returns, and you will never be sick of him looking like that, looking at you like that. So content.

The doorbell wakes you from your trance with a start.

Bucky sighs quietly as he carefully places a bookmark between the pages and gets up from the couch, rolling his shoulders. You watch him as he shuffles away to his room without another word, sweat making the hair stick to his neck. It takes you another moment to stand up yourself.

You pull out your phone as you wait for Nat to get upstairs, hesitating for a moment before you open your notes app. The feeling in your stomach uncoils.

***

Other times, like right now, you simply don’t have the time to question your relationship too much.

While the prospect of your upcoming promotion is great, it leaves you with an almost insurmountable pile of work that’s to be done as soon as possible, and the long hours make you putter around the apartment like a zombie. Thankfully, Bucky’s been avoiding you while you’re in this state, spending his days at Dot’s, or at Steve’s. You’re sure he’s told you at some point, but you don’t really remember.

You’ve set up your little work space in the living room, because it’s the only room with proper light in it. Most of your time is spent on the couch, noise-canceling headphones on and trying to focus on what feels like seven different projects at once. You miss feeling the sun on your skin.

As you’re trying to get your eyes to focus on the numbers and nonsensical reports flickering over your laptop screen, you notice movement in your peripheral vision. You flinch, pulling off your headphones, and then blink.

Bucky freezes mid turn, clearly not having expected you to notice him. “Sorry,” he says. “I just got home.”

Your stare remains fixed on the table. Your favorite mug is filled to the brim with tea, placed delicately on the previously empty coaster next to your pile of books.

“You looked like you needed it,” he continues, and your heart swells.

“Thank you,” you mumble and he shrugs.

“Dinner should be here in twenty, if you want some.”

You nod, watching the steam curl when he leaves you to your reports again. Strange, how easy it is to suddenly overthink a cup of tea.

You wait a couple of minutes for it to cool, then take a tentative sip. Your nose scrunches up.

He’s oversteeped it to the point of no return.

Still, you find yourself drinking most of it, because for some reason you can’t bring yourself to just pour it down the drain. It’s like you can’t quite let go of the gesture.

When the week is finally over, you both sit on the fire escape with a drink in your hands and breathe in the cool early night air. There’s undone dishes and at least three machines’ worth of laundry and a thousand other things demanding your attention, but for now, for this one evening, you’re finally content to do absolutely nothing and do it guilt-free.

It’s nice to just sit next to each other in utter silence as you watch the people below hurry along home through the traffic. The streets smell like spilled gasoline and the very last fringes of summer. The sun is setting at a deliciously lazy pace.

Bucky nudges you and points to the other side of the street. You coo as you watch the corgi waddle around the corner, almost itching for your phone to take a picture. Instead, you look up.

The sky looks beautiful, as if someone had softly smudged the deepest blue ink while it was still drying and dabbed the most glorious shades of pink and orange at the edges. A plane goes by overhead, blinking and leaving a trail of gray across the vast firmament.

“You know,” you say, leaning your head against the wall. “When I was little, I used to think these clouds were made of cotton candy.”

Bucky doesn’t laugh, but you feel the smile radiating from him without even turning. It’s like that, between you. Random thoughts are never weird. Only there to be outweirded.

“I used to think the moon was made of cheese,” he offers tonight.

You do laugh, then, short and loud. When you meet his eyes again, they’re the color of the darkest parts of the sky, and the look on his face is indescribable. Almost like surprise. It sends a chill through you.

“What?” you say, and he shakes his head.

A car alarm goes off in the distance, and you avert your gaze again, pulling the blanket tighter around your shoulders. Bucky’s phone vibrates with a message, but he doesn’t duck inside like you expect him to. Instead, you both sit there until the sun has fully disappeared, and something seems to settle.

It’s a setback that follows you well into the next year.

“I vote arsen or arsenic,” Darcy says. “You have insurance, right?”

She reaches over to grab your phone, swiftly entering the pincode with that set frown of hers as if she’s trying to hack into the pentagon again.

“I doubt they cover homicide,” you deadpan.

“Manslaughter, actually” she reads from your phone. “In the first degree. Ow!” She rubs her shin.

“Who are we getting rid of?” Natasha asks, sliding back into the booth next to you.

“No one,” you say at the same time as Darcy says, “Barnes, duh.” You give her a sharp look. She sticks her tongue out at you.

Nat bumps her shoulder against yours. “How long has it been, coming up two years in June?”

“Shut up,” you murmur, taking another sip of your milkshake. “Darce, what are you doing with my phone?”

“Well, I’m done googling, I wanna see if you actually made that list.”

“What list?” Natasha asks.

“Okay, give me that.” You try to grab your phone back, but Darcy snatches it out of your reach quickly.

“Come on, you never tell me these things anymore,” Darcy complains and continues scrolling. “We used to have so much fun! Does he snore? Does he leave his socks all over the floor? I have a need to know!”

“And it’s making you rhyme, too.”

She’s still dodging your efforts to get your phone back while she’s talking. Natasha watches both of you in amusement, eating her cheesy fries.

“Hah!” Darcy exclaims and your heart drops. “I knew it, he seems like the type to break a spine. I can always tell.”

“Darcy,” you say warningly.

She gasps theatrically. “He killed Fernadette? You said it was an accident!”

“Plants die, Darce, it’s not a big deal.”

In the moment of her outraged distraction, Nat plucks your phone from her hands. She scrolls down once, smirks, and finally hands it back to you. “Change your passcode, WikiLeaks.”

You throw the phone back in your bag resolutely, cheeks burning.

Darcy pouts. “I didn’t even get to the good stuff.”

“You know,” Natasha says, dipping her fry into the melting whipped cream on your shake. “Some of this stuff you should probably tell him.”

“It’s fine,” you say through gritted teeth. “I’m fine. We’re both still alive, aren’t we?”

“Only because you’re boring,” Darcy rolls her eyes.

Natasha lifts her glass. “To two years’ survival in June,” she grins innocently at you.

As you clink your glasses together, there’s something in her eyes that makes you feel like you’re toasting an ultimatum.

***

It’s irrevocably over with Dot when Bucky officially breaks up with her the day before Valentine’s, which is a bit extreme even by your standards, and you’ve never liked Dot.

Matter of fact, it would have made the list anyway, but all the more so when he decides to wreck your following evening as well in the process.

Being eternally single, you’d planned a nice, relaxing night home alone with a movie and some takeout to keep you from obsessively refreshing Instagram as a way to torture yourself. Cozy, quiet, totally not alone forever.

Instead, you now have a sullen-faced Bucky to contend with.

“If you’re gonna be moping all night, you can do it in your room,” you finally snap after he’s complained about your choice of food, the candle you wanted to burn in the living room, and how you decided to eat the giant box of chocolates you’d treated yourself to.

“I’m not,” Bucky says mopingly.

You roll your eyes. “Seriously, you couldn’t have chosen literally any other day of the year to break things off with her? There are a lot of them, you know.”

Bucky throws a pile of chocolate wrappers at you. You retaliate with a pillow to his face.

There’s a second for you to laugh at his expression, when he’s still too stunned to react, before the pillow comes flying back to hit you in the temple and you almost fall off the couch with a shriek.

“Aren’t you supposed to be nice to me?” Bucky asks, grabbing a pillow in each hand to use as defense.

“Pretty sure that’s a dumpee privilege,” you say, mimicking what he’s doing.

You stare at each other for a second, then Bucky throws one of the pillows he’s holding at your head. It lands on the floor as you block it with your own, taking the unlit candle down with it. You smack another of your pillows at his face.

Finally, there’s a little glint in his eye again. “I thought you didn’t like her.”

“Doesn’t mean she deserves to be dumped on February thirteenth,” you say. The second pillow misses and Bucky’s grin turns feline. Shit.

Slowly, you put one foot on the floor, Bucky watching your every move. You can see the pillow on the floor out of the corner of your eye.

You dart towards it and Bucky throws his second pillow. You duck. Your chocolates go flying to the ground, scattering everywhere. Both of you grab the floor pillow at the same time, struggling for it.

Your breath hitches when you feel his weight on you, closer to him than you’ve ever dared before. There’s something in the depths of his eyes that makes it very hard to have a single coherent thought.

“Maybe,” Bucky says, and there’s a tiny crack in his voice as if he knows it, too, “I was sick of pretending.”

Time seems to freeze. He doesn’t move, and his face doesn’t change as he looks at you, not really. It’s just Bucky. Just … everything.

You can feel heat rising.

The doorbell saves you from embarrassing yourself further. You can hear Bucky cursing under his breath as you gently shove him off you and hurry to the door, your heart still thundering.

It’s a moment you keep replaying in your mind obsessively even weeks later, as if remembering it as often as possible would change the outcome at all. Would stop your food from arriving at that exact moment, and instead …

Going down that line of thought is a dangerous game, especially now that you’ve seen the freckle next to his mouth up close, delicately placed there like a dimple, like it was painted with the softest brush. It begs to be kissed.

Sam’s voice calling your name snaps you back to the present and you lock your phone, sharply turning on your heel and almost spilling the buckets of popcorn you’re precariously holding in one arm while attempting to balance the nachos with the other.

“Isn’t that a lot of snacks for four people?” Bucky asks, taking some of the stuff off you.

You don’t meet his eye and frown instead. “Why four people?”

“Nat just sent a text,” Sam says, his arm still around Misty’s waist. “Apparently Steve’s got a cold and they’re staying home.”

And with Joaquín still in Mexico and Darcy running so late at work she’d meet you at the bar later, your group of eight had just been reduced to a date with a plus two. Wonderful.

“Did you only get salty?” Bucky asks, already eating as you make your way to your seats.

“Of course not,” you say, keeping the second bucket out of his reach. “But we’re sharing these. Every time I trust you with the popcorn they’re mysteriously gone ten minutes into the movie.”

“Ain’t no mystery about it,” Bucky says. “Gimme some.”

“No!” You sit down between him and Sam. “You can wait until the trailer show at least.”

You cross your arms over the bucket so that he won’t just reach over. “Nope.”

Sam grins. “You got a ruthless one there, Buck.”

The lights go down before anyone can notice the slight twitch in your expression.

Bucky does make it all the way through the trailer show before he starts shifting in his seat, softly tugging at your sleeve. You keep staring at the screen.

“The popcorn. Stays. With me,” you hiss. You’re tempted to slap his fingers away, but you find yourself completely immobilized.

“You said you’d share,” Bucky says into your ear. His entire arm is pressed against yours now, and it takes everything in you not to tremble. “Just let me have what’s mine.”

You can only hope no one will ask you about any particulars of the movie later on.

***

You don’t expect it all to fall apart so soon after that.

“Well,” Darcy says as the five of you huddle underneath the tiny awning in front of the bar. “I sure am glad I still came out tonight.”

It’s pouring down in buckets, the wind tearing at your jackets, the sky pitch black. The nearest subway station is a seven minute walk away, and you share a total of two umbrellas between you, one of them snatched from the lost and found box at Luke’s.

“Any of us going in the same direction?” Misty asks, opening her own umbrella. Sam takes it out of her hand to cover them both.

“Not really,” you answer, looking at Bucky. “Uber?”

He nods. “My phone’s empty, though.”

“Jesus, why isn’t this working?”

You snort, unlocking your phone without looking and pressing it into Bucky’s hand before hurrying to assist Darcy in her fight with the lent umbrella. “You need to hold it against the wind. Seriously, for someone with two PhDs—”

It finally snaps open, cutting off Darcy’s cussing. Her glasses are already blurred with raindrops.

“Well,” Sam says. “We’d offer to wait with you, but I don’t think this is gonna get better any time soon, so …”

“Just go,” you reassure him. “I’m sure we won’t be long, either. Right, Buck?”

“I don’t know,” he says, and the unexpected iciness in his tone makes you turn around slowly.

You have never seen this kind of look on his face, that coldness skewing his beautiful features into an ugly mask. In his eyes, there’s nothing, not even a trace of the fondness that swirled in them less than a minute ago. Your heart drops.

“Are you alright?” you ask softly.

“Great,” he says brusquely, shoving your phone back in your hand. “In fact, I think I might go on a walk.”

And without a word of goodbye, without a second glance, Bucky walks out into the opened floodgates.

For a moment, none of you can do anything but gape after him in disbelief. He doesn’t turn when you call his name, doesn’t seem to hear it at all. His hair is wet through immediately, sticking heavily to his neck, but it’s like he doesn’t notice the rain, his hands shoved into his pockets as he turns a corner and disappears out of your sight.

“What’s wrong with him?” Sam asks, and even though you understand why the question is directed at you, it feels like an accusation.

“I don’t know, I—”

Your vision blurs.

You want to vomit, vomit or cry or both, but there’s no time.

“Take this,” you say to Darcy, pushing your phone and bag into her startled hands before you run. The wind and rain whip in your face, but you don’t care.

You have to find Bucky. You have to tell him that this is all a misunderstanding, a terrible, terrible error.

Youre such a fucking idiot.

Your boots splash water in all directions as they hit the pavement. Slow. You’re too slow. “Bucky!”

This was a mistake. I shouldve never moved in with you.

When you reach the corner of the street, Bucky is long gone.

***

You’re not sure how long you stand there in the rain before they catch up with you, huddling you between them and their two umbrellas until you stop crying long enough to get into the car they’ve called for you.

Darcy climbs into the seat beside you, and by the look on her face you can tell that this time, she’s read the entire thing.

She doesn’t say anything about it, for once keeping her mouth shut as she fishes for your keys and lets you both into the empty apartment. She’s offered to take you to her place for the night, but you shook your head so vehemently at the thought you got dizzy with it.

Maybe he’d come home. Maybe there’s still a chance to clear this thing up.

But his shoes aren’t there when you stumble through the door, and it’s cold in here. As cold as the look in Bucky’s eyes had been.

Darcy forces you into the shower, and when you get back out, there’s a steaming cup of tea waiting in your favorite mug. Of course, she still doesn’t quite understand why that only makes you cry again.

“I fucked up, didn’t I?” you whisper as she wraps her arms around you.

There’s a long pause before Darcy says, “He’s got no clue what he’s walking away from.”

You don’t plan on moving from the couch, so you get Darcy to agree to use your bed for the night. She seems hesitant to leave you, even if it’s just down the hall. You stay where you are, half-seated and huddled in the patchwork blanket Bucky’s mom had sent from Shelbyville. It smells like dust and homemade cookies.

The hours seem to tick by ever so slowly, and the only noises you hear are those of the city. You doze off every now and then, for no more than a couple of minutes at a time, your head turned towards the hall.

It’s very, very early in the morning when the soft click of the front door wakes you. The rain has reduced to a drizzle, the first hesitant rays of sunshine glimmering through.

“Bucky?” you call out quietly. His steps halt for a moment, as if he’s not expected you to be here, but he comes in anyway.

He doesn’t react to your saying his name again, and the bathroom door closes behind him before you can get up.

You stand there, unsure what to do next, how to make him look at you, talk to you again. You’re still standing there, twisting your phone between your hands, when he comes out of the bathroom again only to vanish into his bedroom without so much as a glance at you.

Two minutes, you decide. You’d give him two minutes to get dressed and sit down.

The eternity of that time span seemingly flies by, and you make yourself move.

“Bucky?” you say quietly, putting your palm against his door.

Of course, he doesn’t answer. He’s not pacing, either, like he usually does when he’s upset, but in this case, you’re not sure if that’s better or worse. Swallowing hard, you open the door.

Bucky’s sitting on the edge of the bed, as if he’s been waiting for you, his head leaning heavy against his arms. He looks terribly small like this.

“Hi,” you whisper, awkwardly. Your face feels like it’s about to melt off. “Can we talk?”

He lifts his head slowly, as if each degree it takes costs too much energy. When he finally looks at you, it almost makes you flinch.

There’s a sadness inside them, mixed with tiredness, that you’ve only caught in your own reflection.

For a long moment, you just stare at each other, before Bucky finally says, “Do you want me to move out?”

Of all the things you expected, this is not one of them. Particularly not with this hoarseness in his voice.

“I want to explain,” you say, taking a tentative step closer.

Bucky huffs a dry breath, pressing the palm of his hand to his eye. “I think it’s pretty self-explanatory that you think I’m the ‘biggest pain in the ass the world has ever seen’.”

You cross your arms in front of your chest to keep them from shaking. “I know I wrote that, but I—Colleen said I should—that it would help.”

“Help what?”

“Make it easier,” you say, so, so quietly, but he still hears you.

“And did it?”

You shake your head slowly, uncrossing your arms. “It pretty much backfired.” You unlock your phone again. “You see, I was supposed to write down all the things you did that made me crazy, but at some point … at some point I started adding the things that made me crazy about you.”

Nothing but confusion in Bucky’s eyes as he stares at you, then at your phone. “What are you saying?” he asks softly.

You close your eyes. “You should continue reading.”

Your hands are trembling so hard now he has to take the phone from your hands to make out any of the words. The silence that follows is unbearable, but you don’t dare look at him. So you talk.

Bucky doesn’t say anything, so you continue, still not opening your eyes.

He huffs again. “I broke up with her that day.”

You do look at him, then. “No, you didn’t.”

Bucky’s still staring at the list on your phone. “I brought her the last of her stuff before Valentine’s Day. I don’t think it’d hit her before then, that she could be nasty about it all now.”

His eyes are very blue again when he turns them towards you, clear and focused entirely on you. It’s hard to keep your knees from buckling.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

And there it is. The question that’s been haunting you for almost two years now, that’s been unspoken in Natasha’s gaze and in Darcy’s hug, even though they knew the answer.

Because you’re a coward.

“You’re my best friend, Buck,” you say quietly, your eyes burning. “I just didn’t … I don’t want to lose that.”

“Hey.” He stands in front of you before you even notice him moving, his hands cupping your face and turning it towards his. A shuddering breath falls from your lips. “You,” Bucky continues, “could never, ever do anything to lose me.”

“I almost did today,” you whisper and his face falls.

“I’m sorry I ran away.”

You shake your head and he pulls you into an embrace. His hair is still damp, but soft from his shower. He doesn’t smell like city rain, only the way he always does. As if it all had never happened.

And when he finally draws back to look at you with that glint in his eye, hands still loosely gripping your waist, it almost feels like a bad dream.

“She didn’t,” you say warily, watching him. He takes a step closer and you retreat.

“At least she never ‘wanted to burn all my shirts’.”

“And how would you know?” He’s still coming closer. “Just because no one’s done it …” You trail off.

Bucky hums. “No one’s ever told me my eyes ‘look criminal in this light’, either. Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”

“Bad,” you say, wincing as you bump into his dresser. “So bad.”

He’s very close to you now, his arms trapping you on both sides, towering over you. Your eyes flit between his own and his lips. That freckle.

The look on his face reminds you of late evenings on a fire escape.

His brows are knitted slightly, contemplative, as if he’s trying to commit you to memory. If he weren’t standing so close, you’d be shaking.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he murmurs, and the words explode into a million butterflies in your stomach. “You did get stuck in my head.”

And then he kisses you.

The rain stops.

thank you so much for reading!! please don't forget to leave a comment or a reblog if you enjoyed this 💛 if you want to see more of my writing, check out my masterlist or follow @intrepidacious-fics for update notifications!!

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lexluthorslapdog · 3 days ago

Note

johnny storm! x reader angst where reader gets hurt? any angst is welcome tbh, tysm

𝙁𝙞𝙧𝙚 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙄𝙘𝙚

Johnny Storm x female reader

summary: You and Johnny are in a new relationship. After a suprising injury you're forced to confront your true feelings.

warnings: Angst, depression, & tooth rotting fluff ♡

A/N: Thank you so much for the request! I hope you like it xx I’ve never written angst before so please go easy on me 😭

The mission started off like any other, with your watch blaring loudly. Your boyfriend, Johnny groaned as he pushed himself up from the dinner table. His brother-in-law gave him a stern look, reminding him he had the responsibility of a hero. The same look which his sister unknowingly replicated, flashing steel eyes towards her baby brother before she placed Franklin down into his carrier beside H.E.R.B.I.E. You turned to Ben and sighed, he joined you in rolled eyes at Johnny’s antics.

You piled into the Fantasticar beside Sue and watched as Ben flicked the engine to life. Outside the window you saw Johnny flash you a grin before lunging over the balcony and shooting upward in a blast of flames. You smiled to yourself softly before refocusing your attention on the problem at hand.

Below the floating car was what appeared to be a massive Lizard rampaging New York City. It’s giant eyes looked up towards you and for a split second you found it kind of adorable. That was until it’s massive pink tongue shot out and wrapped around the vehicle like a christmas present. You lurched forwards as Ben tried to free the family from it’s grip.

“Hurry…” reed sounded calm but he was unable to hide the slight waver in his throat. Sue reached a hand forward and rubbed his shoulder gently.

“I think I might be able to freeze it… I just need a way to make contact.” you piped up from the backseat. Ben paused for a moment to think before instructing Sue to make the car invisible for just a moment while you cranked the window down.

The wind, cold air, and ever so soft rain wove a soothing hand through your hair. That is, until you looked down. The entire vast skyline of NYC lay stretched out hundreds of feet below you. A shiver ran through you and you paused for longer than you cared to admit. It was Sue’s sweet voice that brought you back to reality, “You can do this Y/N.” she whispered, nodding at you sincerely.

With that final encouragement you reached out the window and placed a bare hand onto the dry fibers of the beast’s tongue. The car thrashed wildly as the lizard below registered your touch. It whipped its tongue back only to crystallize a few metres into it's descent. Frost veined out like broken glass as your powers bloomed across it's flesh. For just a moment, time was frozen still. The car was mid flip, your arms dangling from the rear window as Ben tried to straighten the family out. And then, in a blink of an eye, you felt the rush of cold air in your hair. The sky prickled across your skin raising goosebumps as it traced wisps under your suit sleeves.

Your blood had run cold a lot time ago, pure ice tracing it's way through helpless veins. A experiment gone wrong. An unauthorized trip into a dimensional rift. The Negative Zone, a place where tempature was altered in a way unimaginable for humans. Just one second within it turned your organs cold, your heart frozen. Now you were cursed with the constant need to draw heat from your surroundings. Reed had made you tempature regulating clothing and a special suit but even still, the frostbite buried it's way inside you. An unmendable mass of pain, an unwavering sense of loss which followed your every move. That was until, you met Johnny and his family. It wasn't just their greetings, their kindness, and their generosity that was soaked with warmth. It was Johnny. His entire body radiating heat, your body yearned for him in a way that was beautifully otherworldly. Your heart and mind begged for him in a way that was almost pathetically human, earthbound.

The wind whipping around you didn't feel warm in comparisson to your impossibly low body tempature. If anything, it felt colder, harsher as it wormed its way around you. There was nothing to draw heat from as you plummeting towards the crowded streets. You closed your eyes, not only from fear but also a sudden sense of peace. You drifted within your mind, it was if you were cocooned in the very same numbing, heatless, soulless void which created you. Then, craddled in the eerie quiet of your own frozen body, you slid into darkness, blissfully unaware of your body crashing into the asphalt.

Voices drifted through your mind, colours echoing in the black, budding out from the corners of your vision.

The steady beeping of machines was the first sound to crawl it's way inside your mind. Followed soon after by Johnny's soft voice.

"I think she's awake." his grounding voice whispered, his warm hand tracing your face and tucking a stray hair into place. You felt your eyes flickering, your throat was dry and your mouth parted every so slightly. You urged your eyes to open, to let you back to your boy, your family.

The sunlight raining in through the tall windows of the Baxter Building was all you could see as you adjusted to your surroundings. Slowly, Johnny's blurry face came into focus, soft and earnest as ever.

"There's my girl." he spoke, smiling down at you, his eyes full of emotion. Beside him stood Reed who was noting something down on his clipboard. Likely a very detailed explanation of every single thing you were doing. At the foot of the bed sat Ben, a sweet smile carved into his face. Sue held Franklin on her hip with one hand as the other traced soothing circles across your covered shins. You took a deep breath, relief feeling your lungs and then a slight twinge of worry. You shoved it down, it was something to be rummaged through later.

The rest of the family had gone to bed, aside from 3 of you. The crack of Reed's lab door poured warm light into the hall as you and Johnny looked at eachother. He smoothed your hair and pressed a kiss to your forehead. Then, under his breath he whispered so quietly you could barely make out his words. "I'm sorry."

"Oh Johnny, why?" you tilted your head and cupped his jaw in your hands. He avoided your eyes as if the blanket was suddenly as fascinating as the stars in the sky. "Why baby?" you repeated gently.

"I was supposed to- I should've-" he started "I'm meant to protect you, I could've been there to catch you..." he continued. His face was drenched in shadows but you could hear his voice break.

"Johnny." you whispered lifting his chin to look into his nervous face. Your heart almost broke into a million pieces when his eyes met yours, regret and guilt painted into his skin.

"It's okay. I should feel... like this. I messed up, I really really messed up." he pushed himself to stand just as he had at the dinner table hours earlier. You reached out for his arm but he pulled away, his eyes unmistakably wracked with pain. He walked towards the door slowly, as if once he crossed the threshold you would disappear.

"Baby?" you said, it came out in a whine as you tried to choke down the tears filing your eyes. "Please don't go." you begged him. Your own emotions twisting darkly in your stomach. He stopped in his tracks, his shadow splayed across the floor. His normally confident form was slumped and hazy in the shine of Reed's light.

After what felt like hours Johnny turned back towards your bed. "Can I lay with you?" he asked hesitantly. You nodded, smiling softly at him. He sat on the edge of the bed, hand resting on your leg cautiously like a hormonal teenage boy during his first romatic encounter.

"Talk to me J." you urged, your eyes deep with emotion as if you were trying to communicate how much you cared.

"I just can't do anything right Y/N. And now-" he took a deep breath. "Now my mistakes hurt someone. They hurt the person who means the most to me. I hurt you baby."

"Oh my love, this isn't your fault. We fight crazy battles everyday, we risk everything each time our watches light up. That's something nobody can control." you try to reassure him but his brow is still furrowed.

"I saw you falling Y/N. I saw you plummeting to the ground and I wasn't there, I wasn't fast... wasn't good enough." you had known Johnny struggled with believing he was enough. His flashy smile and flirty comments masked his fundemental belief that he was inadequate. Hearing him say it out loud and the fact that he had just trusted you with one of his darkest thoughts only made you love him more.

"You're a hero Johnny, and a damn good one. But you're still human, you can't put that pressure on yourself. You mean so much to and I would never in a million years think of you as anything but my boy, my hero." you didn't notice a change in his expression but you felt something inside you tug towards him. A hint that the heat, which lingered just below the surface of his soft skin and broad shoulders, was beginning to blossom again. "If anything, you should be disappointed in me." you whispered suddenly. You mentally hit yourself for letting that slip out.

Johnny turned to look at you, eyes wide with confusion and hurt. Why did you say that? After a beat, he spoke quietly "Why would I ever be disappointed in you babygirl?"

"I'm scared to tell you why..." you let your thought trail into the silence. You were half hoping he wouldn't push for more and half secretly wishing he would dig deeper.

He crawled onto the large bed and sat beside you, wrapping his toned arms around you in a comforting embrace. He held you for a long time as you relaxed into his chest, his warmth spreading up into your cheeks. "You can talk to me Y/N. You can always talk to me." he whispered into the darkness.

I felt my heart flutter, he was your everything. You looked up at his face, a halo of light from the hall blurred around him. You took a deep breath steadying yourself. "When I was falling... I guess... a part of me felt kind of? okay? I wasn't scared like I imagined I would be. But then- then I heard your voice and I wanted nothing more than to wake up and see your face. I- I guess what I'm trying to say is... I'm in love with you Johnny." voice shaking as you tucked your face into his body. He paused for a moment before rubbing your back softly, his heat rolling in spirals up your spine. You could hear as he broke out one of his trademark cheeky grins. You looked up at him, his blonde hair was tousled and his cheeks were adorned by his adorable dimples.

"I'm in love with you too, sweetie. You have no idea how long I've been waiting to say that." his smile was contagious. You briefly wondered if he had always been the sun itself and if the cosmic rays simply gave him flames to match. You felt your cheeks growing flush as you tried to hide your grin against his tight shirt.

"Ah- look at me pretty girl." his eyes growing dark with desire as he lifted your chin softly. In an instant his lips were on yours, hands weaving through your hair. The kiss was passionate, all tongues and muffled groans. Your body filled with warmth and your veins flooded with hot, untamed, vibrant blood.

Johnny was the key. His love held your frozen body in unwavering warmth. You had striped down to your underclothes, something you'd never been able to do alone because of the cold. That night he held you as you drifted in and out of a gentle and dreamless sleep. And for the first time in a very, very long time, your heart beat solid, strong and molten.

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sogoodtoheritsvicious · 2 days ago

Text

oh my, we really were timeless 💫

summary: you and harry go underground, causing the public to speculate on the state of your marriage - but they should know by now that there’s nothing you two love more than catching others off guard

vicious speaks: wow, i can’t believe this little series is finally, completely over 🥺 thank you so much to everyone who’s reading, commenting, reblogging, liking, and sticking with this story even when life got in the way and it took longer than i thought it would to be completed. it means the world to me 💗 i really hope you enjoy this final chapter and that it lives up to your expectations!!! please let me know your thoughts 🫶🏼

warnings: none, just pure fluff and time skips!!

series masterlist

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14k likes

tmz the music industry’s favorite couple is allegedly on the brink of a divorce 😱 a friend close to the pair, who wished to stay anonymous had this to say to tmz about their absence from the public eye: “they’re marriage was good at first but once they hit the 1 year mark, it became apparent that their relationship moved too fast. they’re constantly fighting about everything under the sun - from big things, like where they want to settle down permanently, to small things like what they’re having for breakfast that day. harry finds even the littlest things about yn so irritating that he’s spending almost all of his time at the studio and with his family in his hometown, and yn…i’m not saying she’s having a physical affair, but she’s back in contact with her ex lando, and their messages have gotten pretty hot and heavy. last i heard, she was quietly talking to a divorce lawyer.” tmz reached out to yn and harry for comment and have yet to hear back, but lando responded that the rumors of them being back in contact are “categorically false.” so what do you think, is this all just a rumor, or are yn and harry throwing in the towel for good and that’s why we haven’t seen them in a while?

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ynharrysthird this is the biggest load of bullshit i’ve ever read

fan did anyone really think they would last?

fan2 what in the fanfic dkfjgjd

fan3 i want whatever it is their “friend” is on

fan4 that story is so obviously exaggerated i can’t believe anyone’s even buying it

fan5 we’ve been saying yn’s for the streets…😗

fan6 i know this is fake because lando would never entertain that hag

fan7 *pretends to be shocked*

fan8 anyone with a brain saw this coming the second they got engaged. everything between them happened way too fast and it was clear yn jumped into a relationship with harry before she even healed from the whole lando fiasco. she needs therapy, not a marriage.

fan9 the story is obviously fake. their marriage seems so solid, i just think they realized that almost their entire relationship has heavily played out in the public eye and decided that they want their much deserved privacy now that they’re married. leave them alone.

yourbff lol. lmao even.

⤷ fan10 the queen has spoken so ya’ll can stop running with this silly story. not that we should even need yn and harry or anyone close to them to speak on it in order to know this rumor is fucking stupid. ♥︎ by yourbff

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yourusername and harrystyles

liked by annetwist and others

yourusername we’d like to introduce lydia and eliza styles: the real reason we’ve been so off grid lately 😌💞

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harrystyles my girls 🩷 ♥︎ by author

ynharrysthird CONGRATS OMG??? they’re the cutest 🥹 i just know you two are the best parents those little girls could ask for 💕 ♥︎ by author and harrystyles

fan TWO???? congratulations!!!

yourbff i could just sit and stare at their precious faces all day <3 ♥︎ by author

oscarpiastri hate having a job. tell them uncle osc misses them terribly 😔 ♥︎ by author

fan2 i’m freaking out rn welcome to the world lydia and eliza 🥰

annetwist absolute beauties 💞 ♥︎ by author and harrystyles

fan3 they’re so beautiful 🥺 ♥︎ by author and harrystyles

itsaria omw to your house rn for snuggles ♥︎ by author

carlossainz55 hermosas princesas ❤️ ♥︎ by author

fan4 i hope everyone who believed that rumor feels really stupid right now ♥︎ by harrystyles

gemmastyles MY BABIES 😚 ♥︎ by author

francisca.cgomes 💖💖💖 ♥︎ by author

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yourusername has added to their stories

caption: let’s catch up harrystyles callherdaddy

replies

fan omg

ynharrysthird a joint interview? i’m SAT

fan2 grabbing popcorn

fan3 can’t wait to find out how these past few months have been for you guys

lilymhe the way i’m so excited for this interview as if i wasn’t there for everything

⤷ yourusername 😭

fan4 your first joint interview and it’s with CALL HER DADDY? oh this be gonna be so good

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liked by yourbff and others

ynharrysthird decides to post my thread on here too! yourusername and harrystyles thank you for giving us a glimpse into the newest chapter of your lives 💗

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fan loved this interview sm

fan2 the way you can FEEL their love for each other radiating through the screen 🥹

fan3 this was a such a great interview and i really appreciate yn talking about people speculating on celebrities bodies when the public thinks they’re pregnant because it’s an important topic that i think needs to be talked about more

fan4 kinda expected alex to ask them about the cheating and divorce rumors but now i’m actually really glad they didn’t bring attention to them and instead just talked about what’s really important ♥︎ by author

fan5 the way i know just from this interview alone that they’re the best parents to their girls 💞

fan6 i’m so happy that they kept yn’s pregnancy between them and their family’s and decided that the public doesn’t need to know every little thing that’s going on in their lives. i hope they know that we fully support them being more private from now on ♥︎ by author and yourbff

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liked by annetwist and others

harrystyles a great start to mum and dads weekend away 🌊

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yourusername this trip is just what my soul needed ☀️🩵 ♥︎ by author

ynharrysthird YOU GUYS ARE SO CUTE 🫂

fan MOM AND DAD (literally) ♥︎ by yourusername

itsaria my faaaveees 🫶🏼 enjoy your trip!! ♥︎ by author

gemmastyles the girls said they love you and can’t wait to have you back! ❤️

⤷ yourusername my babies!! give them kisses for me 🥰

⤷ harrystyles and me!

fan2 ugh you guys are adorable

yourbff hope you guys are having the best time cause you deserve it 🥰 ♥︎ by author and yourusername

fan3 a love like this please!!

alexandrasaintmleux wifey looks sooo good 😍

⤷ yourusername 😘

oscarpiastri it’s killing you two being away from the girls, huh? be honest

⤷ harrystyles like you wouldn’t believe

⤷ yourusername oh my gosh YES! leaving them never gets any easier ☹️

⤷ fan4 pls this is so cute

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liked by alex_albon and others

lilymhe today was for the besties 😌

view all comments

gemmastyles MY SHAYLAS ♥︎ by author and yourusername

yourusername we had the best time with you, auntie lils 🫶🏼 ♥︎ by author

⤷ fan AUNTIE LILS 🥹

⤷ lilymhe the feeling is always mutual 💖

⤷ fan2 you’d think after all these years that i’d be unaffected by this friendship but i’m NOT 💗

alex_albon yourusername stealing them for an uncles day soon - gc is already planning 😏 ♥︎ by author

⤷ yourusername i’m scared

⤷ maxverstappen1 you should be

⤷ yourusername 🤨

⤷ harrystyles 🤨

⤷ lewishamilton don’t worry, uncle lew will keep the rest of them in line

⤷ alex_albon party pooper

⤷ ynharrysthird ofc lewis is the responsible one 😭

⤷ fan4 the way lewis is always booked and busy but still makes sure to carve time out for his nieces 🥺💞

⤷ fan5 imagine getting to say THE sir lewis hamilton™️ is your uncle

⤷ charles_leclerc we are also here ☹️

⤷ fan6 LMAO

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harrystyles has added to their stories

replies

yourusername right back at ya ♥️

ynharrysthird MY HEART

annetwist ❤️

oscar_piastri i’ll have whatever they’re baking 😌

yourbff ugh they’re so 🥹

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liked by harrystyles and others

yourusername hold on to the memories, they will hold on to you 🤍

view all comments

harrystyles and i will hold on to you 🖤 ♥︎ by author

ynharrysthird THE BABY BUMP 🥹 ♥︎ by author

fan my dream life. cute.

⤷ yourusername crying

fan2 you managing to open you heart again after going through such heartache and creating the most beautiful life with harry has me so emotional ❤️

⤷ fan3 no same like seeing her so happy and so loved by her family and friends after everything she went through just warms my heart 🥹

fan4 may this kind of life attack me

⤷ yourusername manifesting it for you 💛💫

⤷ fan4 i love you 🫶🏼

yourbff so lucky to be a part of your lives 🖤

⤷ carlossainz55 same 💝

⤷ itsaria same 💘

⤷ oscar_piastri same 🧡

⤷ alexandrasaintmleux same❣️

⤷ charles_leclerc same ♥️

⤷ lilymhe same 🩵

⤷ alex_albon same 💙

⤷ francisca.cgomes same 💕

⤷ pierregasly same 💞

⤷ maxverstappen1 same 💛

⤷ gemmastyles same 💓

⤷ danielricciardo same 💜

⤷ logansargeant same 💗

⤷ francolapinto same 💚

⤷ lewishamilton same ❤️‍🔥

⤷ roscoelovescoco sames 🤍🐶

⤷ mclaren same 🧡🧡

⤷ sebastianvettel same 💖

⤷ annetwist same 🫶🏼

⤷ yourusername i love each and every one of you more than words can ever describe 💗💞💖💓

⤷ harrystyles love you all ❤️

───────── ❤︎ ─────────

taglist: @pansexualdarling @mx13sworld @willowpains @nebarious @daemyratwst @hi26loveie @angelluv16 @kikiki81 @eugene-emt-roe @nichmeddar @callsignwidow @harryssunflower17 @lomlolivia @isinpfortvdmen @yourlocalstilinski-valdez @roc-haze @this-is-tiny-mia @harryzcherry @theekyliepage @maudie-duan @tulips4harry @stylesmoonlight12 @hannah9921 @woderfulkawaii @op81-har @ggaslyp1

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if you’d like to stay on the taglist for all other future works, please say so in the replies!

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sinsxo · 2 days ago

Text

pink, pink, pink! ☆ blue lock ── ★ ˙🍒 ̟ !!

⤷ ft. isagi yoichi, itoshi rin, itoshi sae, nagi seishiro.

based on this request.

✦ synopsis: the blue lock boys visit your place for the first time — only to discover a hyper-feminine, coquette-coded bedroom full of ribbons, perfume, plushies and pink.

✦ contains: fluff, cluttered bedroom, coquette/feminine aesthetics, early relationship era.

✦ word count: 0.7k words.

read more: masterlist — blue lock.

── ✦ isagi yoichi .

you hadn’t meant for him to see your room — not this early, and definitely not in this state. but one wrong door, and there he was, standing in the doorway of your bedroom instead of the bathroom, frozen like he’d walked into another world.

you braced yourself for the awkward silence. maybe he thought that it was too girly; it was an entirely different world for him after all — too much pink, too many bows and coquette decorations, too overwhelming for someone like him.

but then his eyes lit up, and he turned to you with the softest smile.

“your room is so pretty,” he said, stepping inside like he was afraid to break something. “it’s like a museum... but cosy.”

you watched in disbelief as he admired everything — the fairy lights, the trinkets on your shelf, even the lace curtain by the window. he was complimenting it all, completely in awe.

“i’ve never seen anything like this before,” he said. “it really suits you, fitting for a princess.”

and in that moment, you knew — he didn’t just like your room. he loved the way it reflected you.

── ✦ itoshi rin .

you were hesitant to let rin see your room at first. he was always so simple, so minimalistic, and serious — you worried it’d be too much for him, too pink, or too cluttered for his liking.

but to your surprise, he didn’t say anything. just a quiet “oh.”

he glanced around like he was inspecting exhibits in a gallery, pausing occasionally at a jellycat, your perfume collection, or a heart-shaped mirror. you weren’t sure if he liked it until you caught him sitting on your bed the next day, like it was the most normal thing in the world, surrounded by all your favourite jellycats — some of which he bought for you.

he never commented on the clutter or the bows or the lace, but he never once felt out of place. if anything, it was just another home for him. sometimes you’d walk in and find him like that — a blob of monochrome in the middle of your extremely pink room. and somehow, he still blended in like he belonged there.

── ✦ itoshi sae .

sae didn’t think it was a big deal.

it wasn’t his aesthetic at all — too pink, too many ribbons — but he didn’t comment on it. in fact, he seemed comfortable. he laid on your bed like it was his, scrolling through his phone, occasionally glancing around with the faintest hint of a smile.

“you look really happy in here,” he said once, watching you pick a necklace from your cluttered dresser.

“i am,” you said.

and that was all he needed. he might’ve been used to cleaner, minimalistic spaces, but seeing how your room lit you up made him wonder if living like a princess wouldn’t be so bad. if he ever had to share a space like this with you someday… well, he didn’t mind.

── ✦ nagi seishiro .

nagi had zero reaction. zero.

for one, he was used to clutter. but the second? how pink it was? how feminine it was? he didn’t bat an eye.

he walked into your bedroom like it was his own, tugged the covers over himself, and immediately made himself at home under your favourite pink blanket. plushies? silk sheets? shelves with pink and white decorations and ribbons? all part of the nap experience now.

even you started wondering who the real princess was.

“smells like you,” he mumbled, face half-buried in a fluffy pillow.

you giggled. “you like it?”

“yeah, because it feels like you too,” he yawned. “like i could sleep here forever.”

and honestly? he could. your room was soft, warm, and filled with everything that made him feel close to you. it was cluttered, sure — but it felt like home. and there you have it, your boyfriend who turns into sleeping beauty whenever he enters your bedroom.

344 notes · View notes

barcaism · 2 days ago

Text

Game, Set, Panic | J.Sinner

synopsis: after sharing a bed and very oblivious mutual pinning, you and jannik are driven by carlos to face your blossoming relationship head-on.

pairing: jannik sinner x f!tennisplayer!reader

author’s note: hello my loves! this is part two of optimal proximity, after the overwhelming love and demands for a part two, here it is! more jannik and reader being the cutest idiots in love, carlos being the greatest wingman of all time + a bonus scene with holger (justice for him honestly) please enjoy!

words: 1,977

It was ridiculous how obvious it had become.

Everyone knew.

Carlos knew, of course—he had known for ages, operating in the background like a subtle matchmaking puppet master. Holger knew, though he pretended to be annoyed by it. Even random staffers and ball kids had started whispering about it. You and Jannik weren’t exactly subtle anymore.

And still, somehow, Jannik couldn’t quite believe it.

He was walking next to you after a match when you reached for his hand without thinking—laced your fingers through his like it had always been yours to hold—and he still had to mentally walk himself through the fact that this was real. That you liked him. That this wasn’t some dream conjured up by his anxious brain.

You had already fallen asleep on him once. You’d already wrapped yourself around him in your sleep, called a cactus "Jannik-coded,” and worn his hoodie for three days in a row. But he still looked at you like you might vanish if he breathed wrong.

It was endearing, really. Painfully so.

And you? You weren’t exactly composed either.

Every time he looked at you—really looked at you, with that soft, intent gaze like you were the only person in the room—you started smiling so hard your face hurt. You bumped into a doorframe once because he called you by a nickname he didn’t even realize he was using.

You knew he liked you. He knew you liked him. But neither of you had said it yet.

And that left Carlos Alcaraz, permanent member of the “Push These Idiots Together” committee, teetering between fond amusement and emotional exhaustion.

It all nearly came to a head one afternoon at a training event, when you were chatting casually with another player—a guy around your age, friendly, a little too confident. He wasn’t flirting outright, but Carlos saw the signs: the extra laughs, the subtle shoulder touches, the way the guy kept leaning in toward you like you didn’t already belong to someone else.

Carlos saw it. So did Jannik—who stood frozen by the lockers, holding a protein shake like it had personally offended him.

Before Jannik could spiral into the void, Carlos was already crossing the room, sliding an arm around your shoulders and flashing a disarmingly charming smile at the other player.

“She’s spoken for, hermano,” Carlos said with a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Try someone who’s not dating a six-foot-two ginger with a deadly backhand.”

Your head whipped toward him. “I’m what?”

When you realized what Carlos was trying to do, you quickly agreed—which left Jannik short-circuiting near the bench.

“Say it back,” Carlos mouthed before disappearing.

You found Jannik outside near the practice courts, sitting on the grass with his knees pulled up, staring out at nothing.

You sat beside him, close enough to touch. He didn’t flinch this time.

“Carlos said I’m yours,” you said softly.

Jannik swallowed. “He says things.”

“He says true things.”

He looked over at you then, and the expression on his face nearly broke you—like he wanted to believe it, but couldn’t trust himself with the possibility.

“I just don’t get it,” he admitted, voice barely a whisper. “I’ve never been the guy people fall for. I don’t say the right things. I don’t know how to—”

You leaned in before he could finish, pressing your forehead to his.

“Jannik,” you said, smiling, “you don’t have to know how to do it. You’re just… already doing it.”

He let out a breath, soft and stunned.

“So… you like me?”

“Since Monte Carlo,” you confessed, laughing a little. “And I really thought you didn’t notice.”

Jannik blinked. “I literally forgot how to hold a fork around you. I think I dropped my racquet five times in one match because you were watching.”

You laughed and kissed him. Just a quick press of lips, but it still made him freeze like his brain had blue-screened.

“Was that okay?” you asked, teasing.

“I—I think I’m dying, but in a nice way,” he replied, eyes wide.

•

The team was back together for a charity exhibition: doubles matches, photo ops, sponsors watching. Carlos had, unsurprisingly, talked someone into letting you and Jannik play together. He claimed it was “for fun” and that “everyone wanted to see it.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. He didn’t even pretend to look innocent.

From the moment you two stepped onto the court together, it was a disaster—in the most adorable, syrupy, heart-eyes way possible. The draw had you and Jannik up against Carlos himself and some talented, flirty, French player.

You couldn’t stop smiling at each other. Couldn’t make eye contact without bursting into laughter. Every time one of you scored a point, the high fives turned into hand-holding, then back to blushing apologies, then giggling into towels during breaks.

At one point, you dove for a drop shot and landed a little too close to Jannik, your chest nearly colliding with his arm. He reached to help you up, but instead of grabbing your hand, he grabbed your wrist, missed his footing, and nearly fell on top of you.

You both hit the ground, tangled and flustered.

Carlos, on the other side of the net, covered his face. “Ay, Dios mío…”

Holger, watching from the stands with a Gatorade in hand, groaned out loud. “Do they even know we can see them? This is disgusting. And also… kind of cute. Ugh.”

When you finally won the match—by some miracle—you jumped into Jannik’s arms without thinking, legs wrapping around his waist. He caught you, staggered a little, and held on tight like it was the most natural thing in the world.

The crowd cheered. Carlos mock-bowed. Holger looked like he needed a moment of silence.

•

Later, you and Jannik sat on the edge of the court, sweaty and still catching your breath. You leaned into his shoulder, letting your head rest there, and he let out a soft, stunned breath like he was still figuring out how to hold this—how to hold you.

“I really like you,” you said quietly.

He looked down at you, lips parting like he didn’t expect to hear it out loud. “Even when I panic over serving?”

You grinned. “Especially then.”

He smiled, the kind that made his whole face soften. “Okay. Good. Because I’ve liked you for a long time. Even when you ramble for ten minutes about the most random things.”

You shoved him gently. He laughed, then caught your hand before it dropped, lacing your fingers together.

And maybe the timing had been messy, and maybe you both had fumbled every step of the way—but right there, with the sun sinking behind the stands and your hands intertwined, it didn’t feel late.

It felt right.

And Carlos, watching from a distance with his arms crossed, nodded to himself.

“Finally,” he muttered, then turned to Holger, who was pretending to gag. “Bet you ten bucks they’re married by the next tournament.”

Holger rolled his eyes but didn’t argue.

Because for once, everything was exactly where it was supposed to be.

Two idiots, hopelessly in love—blushing their way through every step of it.

And finally, finally, on the same page.

•

Holger had no idea what he was walking into.

He thought it would be casual. Chill. A simple post-practice hangout. You had messaged him earlier that day:

"We’re getting food and watching something dumb later. Join us!”

So he said yes.

Because food? Excellent.

Dumb movie? Even better.

Low-effort socializing? Sign him up.

But this—this was not what he signed up for.

He walked into the apartment and immediately regretted every decision that had led him there.

Jannik was on the couch. You were curled up beside him, legs thrown over his lap like that was just your default position now. You were sharing a bowl of popcorn—sharing, meaning you were both picking at the same time and occasionally bumping fingers and pretending not to giggle about it.

Holger stood in the doorway, frozen.

“Hey!” you greeted cheerfully, like you weren’t in the middle of living out a soft indie love story. “We already started the movie but we can rewind!”

“No, it’s fine,” Holger said stiffly, slowly lowering himself into the armchair like it was a trap. “I’ll catch up.”

Jannik looked over. “There’s pizza too, if you’re hungry.”

“Where?” Holger asked.

Jannik pointed. “Kitchen counter.”

He got up to grab some—mainly to escape the couple’s radiating vibes—and returned to find you had now shifted, blanket wrapped around both you and Jannik like a human burrito of shared affection.

Holger sat with the slice in his hand, unmoving, watching as you turned to Jannik mid-movie and whispered something that made him blush and laugh under his breath.

He blinked.

Then slowly pulled out his phone.

Holger [7:14 PM]:

Carlos. I am in hell.

Carlos [7:14 PM]:

With our favorite couple?

Holger [7:14 PM]:

YES. You didn’t warn me it was this bad.

Carlos [7:15 PM]:

LMAO

I warned you for WEEKS. You ignored me.

Holger [7:15 PM]:

They’re SHARING A BLANKET. I haven’t known peace since I walked in.

She just fed him a bite of her pizza.

Carlos [7:15 PM]:

That’s love, bro. Embrace it.

Holger [7:16 PM]:

I’m going to throw myself into the sea.

Or better, throw them into the sea. They’d probably snuggle through that too.

Meanwhile, you and Jannik were fully ignoring him.

You were halfway through a terrible movie—something with talking animals and questionable CGI—and you were fully invested, head resting on Jannik’s shoulder while your fingers traced absentminded circles on his knee.

Jannik didn’t even seem to be paying attention to the movie. His focus was on you—soft smile, hand lightly brushing over your leg, cheeks a little pink anytime you looked at him for more than two seconds.

At one point, you started laughing at a dumb joke on screen, and Jannik smiled so wide it looked like his heart might actually combust.

Holger glanced up from his phone and groaned out loud.

“Do you two need a minute?” he asked, voice dry. “Or a separate room? Or a wedding license?”

You blinked at him, then looked at Jannik.

“Are we being that obvious?” you asked, amused.

“Yes,” Holger said flatly. “You’re blushing in sync. This is unbelievable.”

You and Jannik both started laughing, only making it worse.

Holger turned his phone back on.

Holger [7:18 PM]:

They’re BLUSHING. IN SYNC.

Carlos I’m BEGGING you. Come get me.

Carlos [7:18 PM]:

Nah, you’re good. You need this. Builds character.

Holger [7:19 PM]:

You’re dead to me.

By the end of the night, Holger had resigned himself to his fate. You and Jannik were tucked into your corner of the couch like you’d grown roots there. He’d stopped watching the movie entirely and was instead playing solitaire on his phone, narrating each dramatic cuddle escalation to Carlos in real time.

But when he looked up and saw the way Jannik gently brushed your hair away from your face, and the way you looked at him like he hung the stars—Holger sighed.

Because, yeah. It was kind of cute.

Disgustingly so.

But real.

Still, as he stood up to leave, grabbing his jacket, he made sure to grumble under his breath: “Next time I’m third-wheeling, I’m bringing noise-canceling headphones. Or a blindfold. Or maybe a taser.”

You and Jannik just waved sweetly from the couch.

“Love you too, Holger,” you said with a wink.

He flipped you off without looking back, already texting Carlos:

Holger [9:52 PM]:

They’re going to name their kids after types of pasta. I feel it in my bones.

Carlos [9:52 PM]:

You’re the real MVP for surviving that.

Also, yeah. Their first kid’s definitely a Penne.

#jannik sinner #tennis x reader #jannik x reader #tennis imagine #jannik sinner x reader #jannik sinner imagine #jannik sinner fluff #carlos alcaraz #holger rune

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literatecowboy · 3 days ago

Text

The 141 and a partner who experiences pain during sex/has a history of abuse

Cw: fem reader, references to history of sexual abuse and other forms of abuse (no specifics), smut, trauma, fem anatomy, hurt/comfort, inspired by events lived by author, feelings of guilt

Kyle:

After hundreds of hours in therapy and six months of dating, you decide that you’re ready to have penetrative sex with Kyle for the first time. He’s been so patient with you and so kind, constantly reassuring you that your relationship will only move as fast as you want it to. Sure, you’ve fooled around before (he especially loves it when you over-the-clothes grind on him) but you’ve always felt guilty about never being able to go all the way. As he starts to push in slowly, even the tip proves to be too much. You let out a pained whimper and squeeze your eyes shut. In an instant he pulls away, gently cupping your cheek as he moves to the side to give you room.

“Are you okay, love?” He asked, genuine concern in his beautiful brown eyes. You take a deep breath and try to wipe away your brimming tears.

“T-thought I was ready,” you said, shaking your head and sitting up, hugging your knees to your chest.

“I love you,” Kyle said, offering you the glass of water from your nightstand. “Take a breather.” He said. taking your hand in his as you took a sip. Your brow furrowed and you set the water down.

“Don’t you want me to help you get off?” You asked nervously. Kyle’s face softened.

“Oh, love, no. I’ve been soft since you started hurting,” he reassured you, squeezing your hand. You looked visibly relieved, and a small smile creased your lips.

“I love you,” you murmured, uncurling from your protective ball and kissing Kyle on the forehead. He wrapped you into his strong, comforting arms, and whispered his love for you for the rest of the night.

—

John:

John tested the bathwater with his toes as he shucked off his shirt and tossed it into the hamper in the closet. The bath was warm enough so he turned and padded back into your shared bedroom in just his boxers.

“Bath’s ready for us when you’re done, love,” he said, leaning in to give you a kiss. You smiled at him as he pulled away and checked the timer on your phone.

“Not too much longer. I’m so ready for a relaxing soak after this,” you said, using two fingers to slide the dilator fully back into you. The feeling made you wince, and a pang went through John’s chest.

“Doing this all the time…it’s a lot. Could show my Sargents a thing or two about strength, love.” He said, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“It’s worth it to make sex with my lovely husband easier,” you teased. “I never thought being with someone so well endowed could be a curse.” The timer on your phone started to buzz as you both laughed. John switched it off as you eased the dilator out of yourself and rested it on the towel.

“I’ll wash this. Go get in the bath, love. Rest,” John urged. You were more than happy to oblige him.

—

Johnny:

“I dinnae care about that,” Johnny said. Your heart sank, and tears welled in your eyes. As you were about to stand up and leave the cafe, he grabbed your hand.

“Sorry lass, that came out wrong. What I mean is, I dinnae care if we don’t have sex. Ever. You mean tae much to me tae throw away our relationship like that. Ye’ve been a friend tae me for too long. I’ve been in love with ye for tae long. I love ye, bonnie,” he said, squeezing your hand and gazing into his eyes.

“Oh, Johnny,” you gasped, your tears falling freely now. You rose from your patio chair and flung yourself into his arms. He hugged you tight and rested his chin on your head.

At the same time, rage boiled inside of him. Memories of your ex - the man he had come to consider a friend - flooded his mind. When you left to the bathroom to freshen up, he’d already hatched a plan. Within the week, you’d stop receiving texts, DM’s, emails, and all other forms of harassment by your ex - for good.

—

Simon:

You laid together, side by side in your marital bed, the night before deployment. Neither of you had made a move, but the thought weighed over the room like a cloud.

“You’re leaving tomorrow,” you murmured, watching the ceiling fan rotate.

“I’ll miss you,” Simon rumbled quietly.

“I’ll miss you too,” you said, watching him out of the corner of your eye. It was quiet.

“Should we…have sex?” You asked, cringing internally at the thought. You could feel Simon tense beside you, even though you weren’t touching.

“Do you want to?” He asked, rolling onto his side to look at you. He was wearing the balaclava tonight, and your heart hurt for him.

“No,” you said honestly. “But if you do, we can. You’re going away tomorrow.” Simon’s shoulders sagged with relief.

“I don’t,” he admitted. Your body relaxed, and you let out a breath.

“Are you okay?” You asked quietly, turning to face him. Simon shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut, a tear slipping free from one of them.

“I love you,” he murmured, opening his arms as invitation. You pressed yourself against him, burying your face in his chest and holding him tight.

“I love you too. I’m here, baby,” you murmured.

“I’m here for you too,” he whispered, rubbing your back gently. You fell asleep in each others embrace, peace finally finding you.

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fir-fireweed · 1 day ago

Note

For the sake of angst, how would the ROs react to MC being assumed dead/lost in battle during relationship stage.

And what if MC shows up randomly a while after battered and bruised then says something along the lines “i’ll always return to you”.

Very specific lol

Alright. I’ve been sitting on this angst sucker punch for like 2 months now.

::throws scenario at anon and closes tumblr to go find chocolate and Hallmark movies::

—

“Calliope…”

She gasps at your voice, turning so quickly she loses her balance. You reach out a hand to steady her and she grips you tightly, nails digging into your skin.

“You… you’re alive?! But you… I saw…” The words break around her ragged breaths, her shoulders heaving, hands fisting in your clothes. She touches your cheek, your neck, your shoulder, eyes wandering down your body then quickly back to your face. She doesn’t blink, as if afraid you’ll vanish in that moment.

“I’ll always return to you,” you whisper.

She lets out a long wail and pulls you against her. She trembles against you, her small form jerking with every hiccup, every laugh, every incoherent cry she utters.

“I’m not speaking to you ever again! You hear me?” You rub Calliope’s back as she wails into your chest. “You’re so mean, you’re so mean, don’t you ever do that again! You hear me?! I’m not… don’t ever do that again! YOU HEAR ME?!”

—

Corinne didn’t cry when her fathers died. Not really. She was too intent on trying to save them. And when she failed, she focused on burying them together, in a shaded spot of land by the creek, the kind they always talked about buying and building a cabin on. They needed that.

Then the Resistenza needed her. The failed battles, the refugees they couldn’t save—she couldn’t cry for any of it, because there was always someone else, someone desperate and unprotected and in need of her strength.

Even when you “died” she couldn’t cry, not immediately. The battle still raged, the Resistenza still needed her. If she broke, so too, would they. And so she remained strong—rigidly, painfully, mockingly strong.

But then you return, your eyes lock on hers, and you whisper, “It’s okay, you don’t have to do this alone. I will always return to you.”

You see it, the moment the strength breaks. It’s like a dam bursting, and you realize the strength wasn’t in the dam at all, but in the flood—the torrent of emotions, the natural and inevitable force of the river.

She reaches for you and you hold her as she cries.

—

A slash. A cut. Blade in flesh. And blood. A red haze of nothing but rage and despair and cold steel.

Vicente doesn’t even pay attention to the foes he cuts down, his movements mechanic. They don’t matter, none of it matters. The moment they saw you drop over the cliff, the world went red. They fight to numb the pain, to drown in it, become dead to the sorrow, to not feel your loss. It worked with their mother. They focused on the blade to cut the grief.

It worked before. Why isn’t it working now. Why isn’t it working?!

Then a familiar touch stills his hand, and the haze clears. His hair clings to his face, soaked in blood and tears. You push it out of the way so they can see you clearly as you murmur, “I’m sorry you had to fight alone. I will always return to you.”

The air leaves him on a shuddering gasp, the blade dropping from his hand as he reaches for your neck, your face. Then he’s kissing you—desperate, but not with passion or lust. Just a need to feel your breath on their lips, to affirm you’re alive. Alive and his.

—

“Bayram…”

He stills at the sound of your voice, then slowly turns. His face is tear-stained, dark circles weighing down the skin below his eyes. His hair is wild, his entire face sagging with the weight of his grief. You’ve never seen his expression so wretched before.

“I’m sorry,” you say, reaching for him. “I’m here, it’s okay. I will always return to you.”

He falls into your embrace and you nearly topple from the weight of him. He squeezes you tightly, his tears dampening your shirt, his curls tickling your face as he presses you close. “I thought you were gone, love,” he whispers hoarsely. “I couldn’t think, I… I thought I lost you.”

“It’s alright. I’m here, I’ve got you,” you whisper.

And you do. You know you can bear this weight for both of you, whatever the future holds.

—

You open your mouth to speak Tellus’s name when he stiffens. His back is to you, the hard line of his shoulders rigid and unbending. Then he spins around, eyes frantic. When he sees you, his mouth drops open and he staggers toward you.

You quicken your pace to meet him, arms reaching toward him. But when you get within a foot apart he suddenly collapses to his knees, violent sobs wracking his frame.

“I thought… I thought you… again…”

You drop to your knees and sling your arms around him. “I will always return to you,” you whisper.

He reaches up and crushes you to him, one hand along your back, the other cradling your head. “You better,” he cries, trembling in your arms. “You better fucking return every time. To think otherwise…”

He sobs in your arms, and you rock him as you comfort him.

#you suck anon #no but really I’m kidding #all the feels #i hate angst #interactive fiction #writing #twine interactive fiction #cantata #ro scenario ask

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jburrgf · 2 days ago

Text

CASUAL, JOE BURROW

pairing: cocky!LSU!Joe Burrow x bestfriend!reader

summary: friends with benefits, jealousy, playful tension, emotional denial, +18 smut, dom!Joe, jealousy, possessiveness, rough language, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex (fictional), undefined relationship.

description: you’re in Joe’s room, wearing one of his oversized shirts like a shield, while he rolls a blunt with the same cocky confidence that’s kept you both tangled in this messy, no-label relationship. When you drop a casual comment about smoking with someone else, Joe’s jealousy snaps to the surface, and suddenly, what was supposed to be a chill night turns into a game of reckless truths.

n/a: this goes to my girl @yelenasbraid with a 2nd person view 🥳🥳 hope you like babe!

The TV’s on, but muted. Some boring-ass documentary Joe isn’t even pretending to watch. Music drips from the Bluetooth speaker on the shelf, bass-heavy and lazy, and you’re stretched across his bed, wearing just one of his old LSU shirts and a thong. Legs bare, hair messy, body warm from whatever comfort being near him gives you. That soft, annoying haze that always comes from staying here too long.

He’s on the edge of the bed, shirtless in grey sweats, rolling a blunt like it’s a sacred art. Focused. Cocky. Unbothered.

You watch his hands move, slow and practiced, and smirk. “You always take this long, or is it just for show?”

Joe doesn’t look up. “You talk too much.”

“You roll too slow.”

His jaw twitches. “That’s ‘cause I actually know what I’m doing. This ain’t no freshman party blunt. You’ll thank me when you’re not coughing your lungs out.”

You roll to your side, grinning. “I won’t cough, silly.”

That makes him glance up, eyes narrowed. “You will, you don’t have the tricks.”

“I’ve done it before.”

That freezes him.

Fingers pause mid-roll. The paper’s still between his thumbs. He lifts his head and looks at you, slow and sharp. “…What?”

“I said I’ve done it before.”

Beat. Tension. Silence.

“You told me you hadn’t.”

You shrug, eyes on his hands.“ I told you anything, you just assumed.”

He sits back slightly, jaw clenching. “With who?”

You laugh. It’s forced. “Does it matter?” His gaze doesn’t budge. That arrogance? It’s pouring off him now like smoke. Cold, pissed, burning.

He licks the edge of the blunt, seals it clean, and flicks his lighter once. Flame. Silence. “Yeah,” he says low. “It matters.”

“You jealous?”

“No,” he snaps. Too fast. “Just wondering which dumbass I need to thank for teaching you how to lie.”

You groan, tossing your head back. “Jesus, it wasn’t that deep. It was one time, Joseph. With a guy at a party. A year ago. I didn’t even like it.”

Joe lights the blunt and leans back on one arm, eyes never leaving yours.”So why lie to me?”

“I didn’t lie.”

He takes a drag. Exhales slowly. “You kept it to yourself. Same shit.”

You open your mouth. Close it again. You’re not sure what to say, and he clocks it.

His eyes narrow. “Let me guess. You were wearing some other guy’s hoodie, too, huh? Sitting in his lap, laughing all cute while he passed you the blunt like he owned your night?”

Your stomach twists. “What the fuck is your problem?”

His answer is immediate. “You. You’re my fucking problem.”

Your breath stutters.

He leans in closer, blunt still burning in his fingers.

“You come over here,” he says, “wearing my shirt, climbing in my bed like you belong to me — but apparently someone else already got the version of you I should’ve had first.”

“Joe, that’s bullshit.”

“No. Don’t ‘Joe’ me,” he snaps. “You think I like the idea of you high with some random asshole who probably couldn’t even roll right?”

You whisper, “I doesn’t matter.”

“It does.” His voice is rough, possessive. “You’re not my girl, but when you’re here? You’re mine. You fucking know that.”

Your pulse races. He can see it. You know he can.

He stubs the blunt out in the ashtray, climbs back onto the bed, and drags his eyes down your body like you’re something he’s deciding whether or not to ruin.

His hand hooks around your ankle, pulling you closer. You gasp. “You like playing that game with me? Pissing me off? Making me jealous?”

“I didn’t mean to,” you whisper.

He smirks.“Bullshit.”

Joe leans in, lips brushing your jaw, hot and heavy. “You think he got you high like I do?” he breathes. “Think he got you this soft? This fucked out? This needy?”

“Joe—”

“Nah. He didn’t. I can promise you that.”

You stare at him, blinking hard, heartbeat too loud.

He kisses your neck, slow and deliberate. A threat. A promise.“I don’t like it when you do shit like that with other guys, Y/N,” he says again. “Don’t make me say it twice.”

You don’t.

You can’t.

Because you already know you like it.

He doesn’t wait for your answer.

Joe moves like the question was rhetorical — like your body already gave him the answer with the way you're breathing, legs parted under his shirt, thighs warm and tight like they’re hiding something he already owns.

He slides his hand up, rough palm dragging over your skin like a threat.

“Joe—”

“Nah,” he cuts you off, voice low and cold. “You don’t get to talk right now.”

He presses your thighs apart and kneels between them, his fingers wrapping around the inside of your leg — that same hand he throws touchdowns with, big and warm and confident.

You gasp as he drags your shirt up and sees that you’re not wearing anything underneath.

He freezes for half a second, jaw twitching. Then: “Of course you didn’t,” he mutters, mostly to himself. “You came here ready to be fucked.”

You burn under his stare. But it’s not shame,it’s need. Bad, messy, greedy need.

His mouth drops to the inside of your thigh, and he kisses you there like it’s punishment. You twitch, breath catching as his teeth graze your skin.

He laughs under his breath, low and smug.

“You see what you’re doing?” he mutters, licking a stripe higher. “Making me jealous, Y/N. I don’t do Jealous.”

You try to speak, but your voice cracks. “I didn’t mean—”

“Don’t care.” He drags his lips higher, toward the ache between your thighs, and you gasp harder. “You’re gonna learn tonight that none of that shit matters anymore.”

Then he presses his tongue flat against you, slow, firm, devastating.

Your whole body arches.

Joe moans when you gasp. Like he needs to hear it. Like he’s been starved for it.

“That’s right,” he murmurs against your skin. “Be loud. I want you to feel this.”

His hands pin your hips down, fingers digging in as his mouth works you open. He’s messy with it — confident, cocky — like he knows no one else has ever made you fall apart this fast. He takes his time, licking you slow, then fast, then slow again, until you’re writhing under him and your fingers are locked in his hair.

You moan his name. Loud. Needy.

“Yeah,” he groans. “Say it again.”

You do.

Again and again, until your thighs shake and you can barely breathe.

“You gonna come already?” he asks, voice rough, eyes dark and wet and locked on yours. “So desperate for me you can’t hold back?”

You nod, whimpering. “Please—”

“Then give it to me.”

And you do.

You come hard, body clenching around nothing, your back arching off the bed as you cry out. You were trying to hold for when Joe fucked you, but keeping things for Joe Burrow; the narcissistic, toxic and cockiest person that you know for too long was almost impossible.

Joe stays there the whole time — tongue still working, hands still holding you down, dragging every ounce of pleasure from you until you’re trembling.

When he finally pulls back, his lips are wet, his jaw tight, and his smirk is unbearable.

“Fucking knew it,” he says. “Knew you couldn’t take it without falling apart.”

You try to catch your breath, but you don’t get long.

Joe climbs over you again, pressing his weight between your thighs. You feel how hard he is through his sweats, and your stomach tightens.

He pulls them down just enough to free himself — thick, hard, dripping at the tip.

“You want this?” he asks, dragging the head of his cock along your slit. You go crazy.

“Yes,” you breathe.

“Tell me.”

“I want you, Joe.”

“That’s right.”

And then he pushes in.

You gasp. He’s big, and you’re still sensitive, and your nails dig into his shoulders as he fills you to the hilt.

“Jesus,” he groans, pausing once he’s fully inside. “You feel that? This is what happens when you lie to me. When you make me jealous. You get fucked like this.”

He starts to move. Hard. Deep. Every thrust timed to the pulse in your core. He grabs your jaw in one hand, the other braced beside your head.

“You gonna let anyone else touch you like this again?”

You shake your head.

“Say it.”

“No. Just you.”

“Good fucking girl.”

He fucks you harder — not for sweetness, not for love — but to prove a point. To own you. To erase any memory of any guy before him. He doesn’t need much. For years, the only guy in your mind was Joe. Your best friend, fuckbudy, the guy that pisses you of all the times. That’s Joe for you.

His hand wraps lightly around your throat. Not enough to hurt. Just enough to hold you still.

“You like that?” he growls.

“Yes—God, yes.”

“Then take it. Take all of me.”

You’re close again. You can feel it.

And he knows.

He watches you fall apart — watches your eyes roll, your legs tremble, your mouth fall open — and when you come around him a second time, he grits his teeth and fucks you through it.

“That’s my pussy,” he mutters. “Fucking made for me.”

It doesn’t take him long after that.

Joe groans deep in his chest, thrusts once more, and comes inside you hard. Warm, thick and full, his body pressed against yours like he wants to leave a mark.

When he pulls out, he grabs your thigh and gives it a possessive squeeze. Then he leans in and kisses you — not sweet, not gentle — but deep and consuming.

“You’re fucking made for me.” he breathes against your lips.

You nod, dazed. “I know.”

He smirks. “Good.”

Because that’s what this is.

No labels.

No rules.

Just Joe.

And the way he makes you feel like you belong to him, every time.

#joe burrow #cincinnati bengals #joe burrow fan fic #joeburrow #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow x reader #bengals #joe burrow smut #¡best friend!reader x ¡lsu!¡cocky!joe burrow #jburrgf fics

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