#intercom system for apartment

[onetouchblogs]

Why Modern Intercom Systems Are a Must-Have for Developers

In today’s real estate landscape, intercom systems have evolved far beyond just door buzzers. Modern intercom systems are smart, secure, and tech-driven—offering more than just two-way communication. For developers, incorporating these advanced systems isn't just a value addition; it’s now a standard expectation among buyers and tenants.

What Makes Modern Intercoms Smart?

Smart intercoms integrate with smartphones, allowing residents to see, speak, and grant access remotely—whether they’re home or away. These systems often include features like facial recognition, video calling, access logs, and even integration with home automation platforms.

Benefits for Developers

Increased Property Value: A smart intercom adds a premium appeal to residential and commercial projects.

Better Security: Video and remote access features enhance building security and tenant trust.

Low Maintenance: Cloud-based systems mean fewer wires, less equipment, and easier updates.

Future-Ready Projects: With IoT and smart living on the rise, these systems align well with modern housing trends.

Final Word

For developers aiming to future-proof their projects and meet tech-savvy expectations, modern intercom systems are no longer optional—they’re essential. They don’t just improve security and convenience; they reflect the innovation buyers are now looking for.

[intrasonictechnology1]

2025 Guide: Best Intercom Systems for Modern Apartment Living

In today’s fast-paced, tech-driven world, smart living is becoming the norm. Especially in cities, apartment buildings are transforming with technology to offer more secure and convenient lifestyles. One key part of this transformation is the intercom system. In 2025, the best intercom system for apartments goes far beyond simply answering a call from the front door. It helps you feel safer, stay connected, and enjoy a smoother everyday experience in your home.

Whether you're living in a high-rise or managing a property, choosing the right intercom system can make a big difference. This easy-to-read guide breaks down what features to look for, how intercom systems can benefit you, and why making the right choice matters more than ever.

What Is an Intercom System, and How Has It Changed?

Intercom systems used to be just basic two-way audio devices that let you talk to someone at the building entrance. But now, they're so much more. Thanks to smart technology, modern intercoms can show you live video, work through mobile apps, and even connect to your smart home devices.

The best intercom system for apartments in 2025 often includes

Clear video calls so you can see visitors before letting them in

Phone app integration so you can answer the door remotely

Voice assistant support (like Alexa or Google Assistant)

Remote door unlocking with a tap on your phone

Motion alerts when someone is near your door

Inter-unit communication so you can talk to neighbors or building staff

These systems now serve as powerful tools for convenience and security. They’ve become essential in modern apartment life.

Why Intercom Systems Are a Must-Have in 2025

There are many reasons why upgrading to the best intercom system for apartments is a smart move. Let’s take a closer look:

1. Stronger Security

In today’s world, safety is a top concern. With video intercom systems, you can actually see who’s at your door before opening it. Some systems even let you take snapshots or record video when motion is detected. This helps prevent unwanted access and gives you peace of mind.

2. Convenience from Anywhere

Modern intercoms can be accessed from your smartphone or tablet, whether you're at home, at work, or on vacation. You can see who’s calling, speak to them, and even unlock the door remotely.

3. Easy Building Communication

For apartment complexes, it’s useful to send out building-wide messages. Intercom systems can help share maintenance notices, emergency alerts, or updates quickly and clearly with every resident.

4. Boosts Property Value

For landlords or property developers, the Best Intercom System for Apartments is an investment. It makes your building more attractive to potential tenants or buyers, as it adds a sense of modern, secure living.

Must-Have Features for 2025 Intercom Systems

If you're shopping for a new intercom system, here are the top features to consider:

HD Video Cameras: Look for high-quality video, wide angles, and night vision. This helps ensure clear viewing, even in low light.

Mobile Control: Make sure the system has a user-friendly app for Android and iPhone so you can manage access remotely.

Cloud Recording: A system with cloud storage keeps video footage secure and easy to access anytime.

Smart Home Integration: Choose a system that works with voice assistants and other smart devices.

Expandable Design: Ideal for large buildings, systems should support multiple units without slowing down.

Reliable Audio: Clear two-way communication is important for safety and usability.

Bonus features like facial recognition or visitor logs can also make the system more helpful.

Picking the Right System for Your Living Situation

Every apartment is different, so your intercom needs may vary depending on where you live.

For Single Apartments or Small Buildings

Look for simple, Wi-Fi-enabled systems that are easy to install. These usually have doorbell video cameras and remote unlocking.

For Multi-Unit Complexes

Choose a system that supports many users and units. It should include staff announcements, admin controls, and visitor logs.

For Older or Renovated Buildings

Wireless systems are your best bet. They don’t require major construction and still offer all the smart features.

The best intercom system for apartments will match the size, layout, and needs of your specific building.

Benefits of Modern Apartment Intercom Systems

Here are some real-life benefits you’ll notice once your system is set up:

Feel Safe at Home: See who’s there before answering the door. Stop package theft and avoid unknown guests.

Manage Visitors Easily: Grant access to friends, family, or delivery drivers even when you're not home.

Connect with Neighbors: Some systems let you message or talk to people in other units, making it easy to connect with your community.

Help for Everyone: Voice-activated or touch-free options are great for people with disabilities or older adults.

Improve Building Operations: Property managers can easily share updates or respond to issues through the system.

A strong intercom setup benefits everyone: residents, visitors, and management alike.

Setup and Maintenance Tips

Installing an intercom system can be easy or complex, depending on your building type and the system you choose.

For renters or small apartment owners, choose wireless or battery-operated models that can be installed with minimal tools. For larger buildings, professional installation may be needed.

Once your system is running, here are some tips to keep it working well:

Update regularly to get the latest features and keep security strong.

Train users so everyone knows how to use the system properly.

Check hardware every few months to make sure everything’s running smoothly.

Manage permissions so only trusted users can make changes.

What the Future Holds for Intercom Systems

The best intercom system for apartments is designed to evolve with future technology. Here’s what’s on the horizon:

Smarter AI: Systems that learn your patterns, recognize frequent visitors, and spot unusual behavior.

Voice Recognition: Unlock your door just by speaking.

AR Integration: View visitor info through smart glasses or phones using augmented reality.

Private Networks: Some systems will use secure mesh networks instead of relying on one central server.

Technology will continue to add value, making intercom systems even more helpful and intuitive.

How to Get the Most from Your Intercom System

Once you have the best intercom system for apartments installed, follow these tips to make the most of it:

Enable notifications so you never miss a visitor.

Use features like snapshots or video recording to review past activity.

Connect it with other smart devices like locks, lights, or thermostats.

Encourage feedback from other users so you can adjust settings or improve usage.

Stay updated with new software releases and security patches.

Conclusion: Upgrade Your Apartment Living in 2025

In today’s connected world, intercom systems do a lot more than buzz people in. The best intercom system for apartments offers a mix of security, convenience, and smart living that suits every kind of apartment setup.

Whether you’re looking for peace of mind, better communication, or an easier way to manage visitors, a good intercom system can transform your living experience. As we move into the future, these systems will only get better, smarter, and more essential.

If you're ready to make your home safer and more connected, now is the perfect time to invest in a modern intercom system. Your home deserves it, and so do you.

Make the smart move—choose the best intercom system for apartments in 2025 and experience the difference every day.

[acropolisgardens]

The Amenities of Acropolis Gardens: Enhancing Urban Living in Astoria

Acropolis Gardens, a historic residential complex in the heart of Astoria, Queens, is renowned not only for its architectural charm but also for the thoughtful amenities that cater to modern urban living. Built in 1923, the complex has evolved to meet the needs of today’s residents while maintaining its timeless appeal. From security features to communal spaces, Acropolis Gardens offers a range of amenities that make life more comfortable and convenient for its diverse community of residents.

1. Video Intercom System: Enhanced Security and Peace of Mind

One of the most important amenities at Acropolis Gardens is the state-of-the-art video intercom system, designed to provide residents with an added layer of security. In a bustling city like New York, peace of mind is crucial, and this modern system allows residents to easily screen visitors before granting access to the building. Whether receiving deliveries or hosting guests, the video intercom offers an extra level of safety, ensuring that residents feel secure in their homes.

2. In-Building Laundry Facilities: Convenience at Your Fingertips

In today’s fast-paced world, convenience is key, and Acropolis Gardens delivers with its in-building laundry facilities. No need to haul laundry to a nearby laundromat or worry about finding time to visit one—residents can take care of their laundry right within the comfort of their own building. The availability of on-site laundry facilities not only saves time but also makes daily life more efficient, freeing up residents to enjoy more of what Astoria has to offer.

3. Beautifully Landscaped Communal Gardens: A Tranquil Urban Oasis

Despite being located in the heart of a vibrant urban area, Acropolis Gardens offers residents access to beautifully landscaped communal gardens, creating a peaceful escape from the city’s hustle and bustle. These garden spaces are meticulously maintained, providing a serene environment where residents can relax, read a book, or simply enjoy the outdoors. Whether it's a morning coffee in the garden or a quiet evening stroll, the communal green spaces add a touch of nature to city living.

4. Pet-Friendly Environment: Welcoming Your Furry Friends

Acropolis Gardens is a pet-friendly community, recognizing that for many residents, pets are an important part of their family. With flexible pet policies, residents can enjoy the companionship of their pets without having to worry about restrictive rules. The surrounding neighborhood of Astoria is also home to numerous parks and green spaces where residents can walk their pets, adding to the overall appeal of the complex for pet owners.

5. Elevator Access: Convenience for All Residents

The five-story structure of Acropolis Gardens is equipped with elevator access, making it convenient for residents of all ages and abilities to navigate the building. Whether carrying groceries, moving furniture, or simply making daily trips up and down, the elevators provide ease of access to all floors, ensuring a hassle-free living experience for everyone. For families with young children, seniors, or anyone who appreciates convenience, the elevator is an invaluable feature.

6. Flexible Rental and Ownership Options: Catering to Diverse Lifestyles

Acropolis Gardens stands out by offering flexible rental and ownership options, accommodating a wide range of financial situations and lifestyle preferences. Residents can choose between renting a unit or purchasing one, with favorable ownership options like co-purchasing, allowing multiple parties to invest in a property together. These flexible arrangements make Acropolis Gardens accessible to a broader demographic, from young professionals and families to retirees looking for a secure place to settle.

7. Shared Community Spaces: Fostering a Sense of Belonging

Beyond its individual units, Acropolis Gardens places a strong emphasis on community living. The shared communal spaces, such as the garden areas, foster a sense of connection and neighborly interaction. Residents can socialize, organize community events, or simply enjoy the sense of belonging that comes from living in a well-integrated, welcoming environment. This emphasis on community helps create a unique atmosphere that distinguishes Acropolis Gardens from other residential complexes.

8. Proximity to Astoria’s Attractions: Convenience Meets Culture

While not a physical amenity within the building, the location of Acropolis Gardens is an amenity in itself. Situated in the culturally rich and lively neighborhood of Astoria, the complex offers residents easy access to an array of dining, shopping, and entertainment options. From world-class restaurants and trendy cafes to parks, museums, and shopping centers, everything you need is just a short walk or subway ride away. The proximity to the N and W subway lines makes commuting to Manhattan quick and convenient, making Acropolis Gardens an ideal home base for those who want to enjoy both city life and a peaceful retreat.

Conclusion: A Perfect Blend of Comfort and Convenience

Acropolis Gardens is more than just a residence—it’s a community that offers modern amenities tailored to the needs of today’s urban dwellers. From its advanced security systems and in-building laundry facilities to its serene communal gardens and pet-friendly environment, every detail has been carefully designed to enhance the quality of life for its residents. Add in the convenience of its Astoria location and its flexible rental and ownership options, and it’s easy to see why Acropolis Gardens continues to be a desirable place to live for individuals and families alike.

Whether you’re looking for a safe, secure home or a peaceful urban retreat, Acropolis Gardens offers the perfect blend of comfort, community, and convenience.

[aristel2023]

The Future of Business Communication: Exploring the Pinnacle of Connectivity with Cloud Phone Systems

In the dynamic realm of business communication, the advent of cloud phone systems has revolutionized the way organizations connect, collaborate, and communicate. Offering a seamless integration of advanced features and unparalleled flexibility, cloud phone systems have emerged as the cornerstone for modern enterprises striving to stay ahead in the digital age.

At the core of the cloud phone system is the utilization of Voice over Internet Protocol (VoIP) technology, which allows for voice and multimedia communication over the internet. This innovation transcends traditional telephony, providing businesses with a cost-effective and scalable solution. Unlike conventional phone systems that rely on physical infrastructure, cloud phone systems leverage the power of the cloud, enabling businesses to enjoy enhanced mobility and accessibility.

One of the key advantages of cloud phone systems is their inherent flexibility. Organizations can effortlessly scale their communication infrastructure up or down to accommodate changing needs. Whether a company is experiencing growth or downsizing, the cloud adapts to the evolving demands of the business. This flexibility extends to remote work scenarios, allowing employees to connect to the corporate phone system from any location with internet access, fostering a collaborative environment irrespective of physical boundaries.

Cost-effectiveness is another compelling factor that positions cloud phone systems as a strategic investment for businesses. Traditional phone systems often involve significant upfront costs for hardware, installation, and maintenance. In contrast, cloud-based solutions eliminate the need for extensive physical infrastructure, reducing both initial investment and ongoing operational expenses. Moreover, businesses can opt for subscription-based models, paying only for the services they use, further optimizing costs.

Enhanced collaboration features are a hallmark of top-tier cloud phone systems. These systems often integrate seamlessly with other cloud-based productivity tools, fostering a unified communication ecosystem within the organization. Features such as video conferencing, instant messaging, and file sharing contribute to a cohesive and efficient workflow, empowering teams to collaborate in real-time regardless of their physical location.

Security is a paramount concern for businesses, and cloud phone systems prioritize data protection and privacy. Advanced encryption protocols and secure data centers ensure that sensitive information remains confidential. Additionally, regular updates and patches are automatically applied, reducing the risk of security vulnerabilities and providing organizations with peace of mind in an increasingly interconnected digital landscape.

Customization is a key element that distinguishes the best cloud phone systems. Businesses can tailor their communication infrastructure to suit their specific needs, choosing from a plethora of features such as interactive voice response (IVR), call routing, and analytics tools. This adaptability empowers organizations to create a communication environment that aligns seamlessly with their unique workflows and objectives.

In conclusion, the era of cloud phone systems heralds a new age in business communication, where flexibility, cost-effectiveness, and advanced features converge to redefine the way organizations connect with stakeholders. As businesses navigate the complexities of a rapidly evolving digital landscape, embracing cloud phone systems becomes not just a technological upgrade but a strategic imperative for those seeking to unlock the full potential of modern communication.

[cellythefloshie]

;; Moments of Care    by cellythefloshie

Summary: Overcome with worry when you didn't arrive for a date, Quinn went to your apartment and found you in a time of need. Kinks & TW: Hurt/Comfort (Migraines). No Smut. Undefined relationship. Word Count: 2k+

Pale light from his phone screen flickered across Quinn’s face as he sat parked outside your apartment, squinting into the darkness. Two hours had passed since you were supposed to meet him for dinner, three since your last message. If this had been a first date—or even the third—he might have shrugged it off. But after four months, it didn’t sit right. 

You weren’t just some girl who vanished after a whirlwind weekend. You were—well. While neither of you had put a name to whatever this was, long stretches of road trips had made defining things complicated. And maybe—probably—he wasn’t sure if you had been treating him with the same exclusivity he found himself giving you. But Quinn liked to think that, for all intents and purposes, you were his.

It was the very reason he was sitting outside your apartment in the middle of the night, telling himself that he was crazy for driving across the city – but he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. He could feel the rhythmic racing of his pulse against his neck as he looked down at the message you had sent him. 

I’ll meet you there. 

With a sigh, Quinn leaned across the passenger seat and looked up at the apartment building you called home. He looked over each window, trying to remember just which one was yours when he saw them; Your curtains. He could see the faint flutter of the fabric and the wind blew in through an open window and it was highlighted by the amber glow of the street lights outside.  Beyond them, he could see nothing, only darkness.  

A knot tightened in his chest. He had to check on you. Had to knock on the door, hear your voice—see you, even if it was just to have you tell him to fuck off. As long as he knew you were okay.

Getting in, however, was another matter. He didn’t have a key.

There was an intercom at the front door, one that he had used the handful of times he had visited you at your apartment. He approached it quickly, the collar of his jacket popped to block out the chill of the wind. And as soon as he had pressed your suite number into the system, his hands delved into his coat pockets. It let out its droning ring, over and over again, begging to be answered only to disconnect when you didn’t answer. 

“Fuck.” His breath came in a mist as he exhaled sharply, raising both hands to his lips, rubbing warmth back into his fingers. He didn’t know anyone else in the building, and from what you’d told him, you barely knew your neighbors either. But he was desperate.

Reaching out, Quinn punched in the number of the suite next to yours. Declined.

The one across the hall. Ignored.

Then, just as the last ring of the suite beneath yours faded into silence, the lock on the front door released. No words exchanged. No questions asked. Either someone was expecting a visitor, or they simply didn’t care who they let inside. He didn’t hesitate.

Quinn ran through the hallway and to the stairs with complete disregard for the elevator. He took them two at a time until he reached your floor, and moved down the hallway until he came to your door. He froze there for a moment, fixing his scarf and finding his composure with a steady breath. 

He knocked. 

Nothing. 

In an instant, it felt like his scarf was constricting around his throat, and without thinking, he reached down for the door handle and twisted it slowly. He expected it to be locked, but to his surprise, it clicked open. 

Quinn peaked his head in first, before slowly entering your apartment that was cloaked in darkness. He welcomed himself in with caution steps, worried that he might run into a pair of shoes or furniture he wasn’t familiar with by the door. The last thing he wanted to do was startle you as he stood in the entryway, unannounced and uninvited. 

He hesitated, then spoke your name softly.

For a moment, there was only silence. Then, as if he had imagined it, a low muffled groan. 

Your name left his lips again, louder this time, weighted with concern. Caution vanished in an instant. Quinn tore off his coat, striding toward the source of the sound. The bathroom.

His hand skimmed the wall, fumbling for the light switch. A harsh glow flooded the space, spilling into the hallway, casting his shadow long across the floor.

The light had barely settled before your soft, broken plea cut through the air.

“Turn it off, please. I can’t— It’s too bright.”

*“Sorry,” Quinn said quickly, his voice barely above a whisper as he reached back out for the light switch. The room fell back into darkness, the only light the amber glow of the street light that had greeted him outside. He swallowed back a lump that formed in the back of his throat. Quinn had his answer. You were safe at home, but you weren’t okay – and suddenly Quinn felt useless. 

You were laying on the bathroom floor, unmoving. The light was off, but Quinn could still see the pained expression on your pale face and the glassiness of your eyes as they fought back tears. And in the silence, he could hear your ever uneven breath that was so close to becoming a cry. 

It was on your third date, when you had to cut it short because of a headache, that you told Quinn that you were prone to migraines. He hadn’t thought much of it at the time. He had seen so many injuries in his career–concussions that would rob players of their careers, bruises that would linger for weeks and breaks that would only mend with a little help of titanium or steel–that he was convinced that a headache with no clear cause couldn’t be so severe. 

He was wrong. 

Yours seemed worse than any he’s ever had, or witnessed, before. 

“Just,” Quinn reached a hand up, raking his fingers through his hair, “Just tell me what you need, please. I’ll do anything.”

You didn’t move. You didn’t even look up at him as you sighed. “There’s nothing anyone can do,” you told him, your tone sending Quinn’s heart sinking into the depths of his chest.  He knew that tone all too well. Defeat. 

“I’ve taken pain killers, I’ve seen countless doctors and-” you cut yourself off, and Quinn could feel your hand reaching out to him, your finger tips grazing over the hem of his pant legs. “How did you even get in here Quinn? I-” you started to stutter, “I was going to meet you at the restaurant.”

“That was two hours ago,” Quinn sighed softly as he dropped down to his knees on the floor. 

Carefully, he reached out through the darkness, his hands finding your shoulders and drawing you in. Quinn hugged you to him, face burying into your hair as he took in a deep breath. “I was worried when you stopped messaging me back. I thought–” he placed a kiss to your scalp slowly, “I thought something happened.” 

“I’m okay,” your words were a hot breath felt against his arm before you placed a careful kiss there. 

Quinn almost smiled as you nuzzled into the crook of his arm, but then he felt the hot wetness of tears that had been silently streaming down your cheeks in the cover of the darkness. An almost successful deceit. 

He said your name in a slow hum before continuing, “you’re not okay. You’ve been laying on the bathroom floor. Let me help, please.”

“I was trying to get into the bathtub,” you explain slowly, weakly. “The hot water. It helps, but whenever I tried to stand up, my head would pound.”

“Okay,” Quinn sighed, “that’s something I can help with.” 

Slowly, he eased you up off the floor just enough to lean you back against the strength of his chest. Quinn let you rest there a moment, making sure you were steady before his hands began to gather your hair. You had done it before the migraine struck, he was sure of it. Each tendril was soft and silken between his fingers, but tangled from the mess it became from laying on the floor. He gathered it carefully, securing it up and away from your face. It wasn’t perfect, but at the very least it was out of the way. 

“Do you trust me?” Quinn asked you in a whisper. 

He felt you nod slowly against his chest silently. 

Slowly, Quinn’s hand found the hem of your shirt, pausing just long enough for you to lift your arms up over your head. His knuckles dragged against your stomach as he eased the fabric up over your head before it was lost on the floor. He traded it for his own shirt as a veil of modesty. It was a simple white t-shirt that was too big for your frame. It swallowed you up as he worked it onto you, hanging loosely off your shoulders the way all his clothes did on you. 

Then, without a word, you reached behind yourself, unclasping your bra, and let it drop to the floor. 

Quinn’s breath hitched. He hadn’t expected that. 

His eyes flickered down to the button of your jeans, then back up. The glow of the amber lights sent your face a glow. Your eyes were shut and your skin glistening with tears or sweat – something that looked more like glitter in the night. And there was a calmness in your features, one he didn’t know how you found when in such pain.

“Can I…?” He started, his tongue seemingly swelling up in his mouth. 

This wasn’t the first time he had helped you out of your clothes, but this time was different. There was no rush to feel your skin against his. No desperate need to fuck – no, it was more intimate than that. 

When you nodded again, Quinn reached down with a careful touch and loosened the waistband. He felt you shimmy and slipped down his chest as you struggled to push them down with him seated behind you and instead of letting you struggle, he helped. Quinn moved slowly, easing you off his chest into a sitting position before he moved to kneel in front of you. There, he carefully tugged the denim down your legs, his hands steady and gentle as he held his breath, forcing himself to remain focused. 

“Almost done,” he promised you as he pushed up from the floor and arched over the side of the bathtub. He turned on the water and remained there, his hand hovering over one faucet then the other as he debated: Hotter? No, colder. Bubbles? No bubbles? He had no idea what he was doing, but not once did you complain as you waited with your head in your hands. 

When the tub was filled up just right, Quinn kicked off his shoes and  reached down to the waist of his own pants and worked them down to his ankles. He kicked them out of the way before kicking his socks off with them. 

“What are you doing? Quinn!” Your question became a soft yelp as he scooped you into his arms. 

“We’re getting in the tub,” he told you simply, stepping in first before settling down with you between his legs and against his chest.

The hot water lapped against his skin as he helped you, the fabric of his t-shirt floating weightlessly around you. His hands moved slowly through the water, scooping it up and letting the water trickle down over your shoulders and neck. 

“Is this helping?” He whispered against your temple, pressing the faintest kiss there.

You didn’t speak, answering him with nothing but a nod again. 

Then, you almost startled him, as your hand found his beneath the water. They laced together slowly, your touch drawing his hand to your chest and hugging it there. You relaxed against him, the tension melting away in the heat of the water as you whispered, “Thank you, Quinn.” 

TAGLIST: @mp0625 , @starshine-hockey-girl , @wingedwheelprxncess , @kurlyteuvo , @couldawouldashoulda50 , @hagelpoint-3821 , @macklin-celebrini-71 , @m00nlightdelights , @laurenairay , @idonthaveaclue

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[blueberrybirdsworld]

Collision 5/20

Summary:

Lando always had a type : blonde, models, not ready to settle down. Yet once he met her, all his world is changed and he slowly start to realises maybe he was wrong all this time.

It's a prequel story of The Cat Distribution System, on how Lando Norris fall in love with Ariana. Could be read seperatly.

Pairing : lando norris x original female character

Genre : Fluff, slow burn, enventual smut

Warning : none

Serie Masterlist

CHAPTER 5 :

PLEASE FEEL FREE TO COMMENT AND REPOST TO MAKE THIS STORIE LIVE :)

Max’s apartment was glowing with the warmth of soft light and low music. The table was crowded with half-open pizza boxes and Pietra’s expertly-arranged charcuterie board. Someone was already arguing about whether to rewatch The Grand Budapest Hotel for the fourth time. Lando was pacing. 

When the buzzer rang, Pietra swirled her wine and sauntered to the intercom.  

She opened the door and blinked. “Oh my god.” 

Ariana stood in the hallway, the December air still clinging to her cheeks, which were tinged pink with cold. Her long chestnut hair had been swept half-up, tied with a bold red ribbon that fell in elegant tails down her back. She wore a slouchy grey knit sweater that slipped just slightly off one shoulder, paired with a white pleated mini skirt. Tall, deep red leather boots climbed her legs with polished confidence. 

“You again,” Pietra said, smiling wide. 

“Me again,” Ariana echoed, a tiny smile tugging at her lips. 

The two of them laughed, the awkwardness melting before it even formed. 

“You look…” Pietra gestured vaguely. “Like you walked out of a winter-themed fashion editorial.” 

“I wasn’t sure how casual really meant,” Ariana said, stepping inside. 

“It means you win,” Pietra said, already linking arms with her. “God, you know how to dress.” 

Ariana felt a flush of surprise and something else—a sense of ease. She liked Pietra, she realized. The loud, confident girl had a calmness underneath, the kind that drew people in without overwhelming them. 

Then, across the room—he saw her. 

Lando had been leaning against the kitchen counter, half a beer in his hand, when his eyes lifted—and everything else seemed to vanish. 

He looked like someone who’d forgotten how to speak. 

He set the bottle down, a little too fast, and walked over. 

“Ariana,” he said, voice low, a little husky. “Wow.” 

She tilted her head. “Hi.” 

“You look…” His gaze traveled from her ribbon to her boots and back to her eyes. “Very good.” 

She laughed—genuinely. He smiled wider. 

“You clean up well too,” she added, her voice soft. 

He offered her his hand without thinking. “Come meet everyone.” 

Introductions blurred into conversation. She met Max, who had the kind of dry sarcasm that made her laugh within ten seconds. The rest of the crew was warm and welcoming, filling the room with a comfort that was noisy but kind. 

And the questions came quickly. 

About ballet. About her life. About how long she could stand on her toes without crying. 

Ariana fielded them all gracefully. 

“Six days a week, usually,” she said when someone asked about training. “Some days we rehearse until our feet go numb.” 

“Wait, but isn’t that… bad?” Max asked. 

“We’re trained to work through pain. It’s not ideal, but it’s part of the life. You just learn to listen to your body better. I’ve dislocated a toe mid-performance and kept going.” 

The room fell silent for a beat. 

“Okay, that’s badass,” someone said.  

Ariana laughed. 

Lando hadn’t stopped watching her. He hovered nearby, offering her a fresh drink before she could even ask, nudging a pillow closer when she tucked her legs beneath her. His compliments came in casual brushstrokes. 

It wasn’t just flirtation. It was attention. And Ariana noticed. 

She’d never had someone make her feel seen without being put on a pedestal. Not until now. 

When the food was brought out—an unapologetic lineup of pizza boxes stacked in glory—Ariana picked a slice with mozzarella and roasted tomatoes, settling comfortably on the couch again. 

And then came the question. 

“Wait,” one of the guys said, brow raised, “do ballerinas even eat pizza?” 

Ariana blinked, confused. She glanced at Lando. 

“I mean… of course I do,” she said. “Why wouldn’t I?” 

Another voice chimed in: “Aren’t you supposed to be, like, on a super strict diet? I always heard ballet girls don’t eat carbs.” 

She blinked. Then laughed. Really laughed. 

“Maybe in the nineties,” she said. “But not anymore.” 

Everyone leaned in, suddenly fascinated. 

“Being a ballerina is being an athlete. A professional one. We train nonstop, and we burn thousands of calories. If we didn’t eat, we’d collapse.” 

“Wait, thousands?” someone asked. 

“Yes,” she said with a grin. “And no, I don’t live off lettuce and lemon water. I love food. I need food. I try to eat healthy, yes, because I care about my body—but salad three times a day is not healthy. I eat protein. Good carbs. Chocolate when I want it.” 

Lando, beside her, smiled. Proud. 

“There are dancers who still have toxic relationships with food,” she added, quieter now. “Because the pressure’s real. The ‘stay small’ stigma still exists. But it’s changing. We’re stronger now. We’re allowed to be strong.” 

Then everyone toasted. 

Ariana caught Lando’s eye. He raised his glass softly in her direction, that signature grin melting into something gentler. 

And she couldn’t stop herself from smiling back. 

Later, as the lights dimmed and the movie flickered across the TV, Ariana curled deeper into the couch cushions. Lando was next to her now, their shoulders just barely touching. 

Ariana had always been good at reading rooms. 

The longer she stayed in one, the more she could feel it—when it pulsed with too much laughter, or when it begged for a lull. She loved people. Loved stories. But there came a point where the noise curled in around her too tightly, and she needed to step back, to breathe again in her own rhythm. 

Tonight, in Max’s flat, that moment came just after the movie ended. 

The screen faded to black. Someone turned the lights back up. Jokes were traded over dessert and drinks, louder again now, but Ariana’s smile had softened into something quieter. Her energy was fading gently. Not in a bad way—just in the way things always faded with her: delicately, without complaint. 

Lando noticed it right away. 

She’d tucked herself further into the armrest, her hand holding the edge of her empty glass, legs crossed neatly beneath her. Her eyes still followed the conversation, but less actively now, like someone sitting at the edge of a waltz, watching instead of dancing. 

She looked at him, and there was a subtle flick of her eyes toward the hallway. 

He understood instantly. 

The balcony was cold. 

But the kind of cold that sharpened the air and quieted the noise. 

It stretched just outside the kitchen window, wrapped in a string of forgotten fairy lights from someone’s old birthday. Two metal chairs. A weathered table. A view of the neighboring rooftops, lit by the city’s amber glow. Not glamorous—but honest. A pocket of peace above the world. 

Ariana stepped outside first; arms folded lightly over herself. Lando followed behind, closing the door with the softest click. 

He didn’t say anything. 

He just stood beside her, close but not touching, leaning his forearms on the rail. She was in profile beside him, face turned to the sky, breath blooming faintly in the cold air. Her red ribbon fluttered once in the breeze, delicate against the oversized grey knit that swallowed her shoulders. 

They stood in silence. 

It wasn’t awkward. It wasn’t empty. 

It was gentle. 

Like two people breathing in the same rhythm without needing to prove they were there. 

After a long stretch of quiet, she finally spoke. 

“You’re very good at that.” 

“At what?” 

“Letting silence be what it is.” 

He smiled. “Not scared of quiet?” 

“I prefer it,” she said. “Sometimes, I think silence says the things I don’t know how to say.” 

He nodded. “Same.” 

They were quiet again after that. 

He looked at her when she wasn’t looking—admired her, really. Not just her face, which caught the soft city light like something out of a dream, but the calm she carried. The restraint. The kind of poise he’d never had in his life, and yet… he felt safe around it. 

Like maybe he didn’t have to fill every space with jokes or movement. 

He could just be. 

“You always sneak away like this?” he asked eventually, voice low. 

A small smile touched her lips. “When I can.” 

“Because of people?” 

“Because of noise. Expectations. I love people, I do… but after a while, it gets heavy.” 

He nodded. “I get that.” 

“Do you?” she asked softly, almost like a challenge. 

He looked down at the streetlights below. “My life’s never quiet. Track days. Interviews. Fans. Press. Team meetings. Flights. Even when I’m alone, I’m on. It’s like the noise keeps following me around.” 

“And yet here you are,” she said, turning toward him now, her face close. “With me. Quiet.” 

“I like it better like this.” 

She smiled again, slower this time. More real. 

Their eyes met—and stayed. 

The moment stretched. 

She was looking at him with that wide, curious gaze again, like she was figuring something out she hadn’t expected to discover. The wind picked up slightly, brushing her hair into her face, and Lando, without thinking, reached up and gently tucked it behind her ear. 

Her breath caught—just enough for him to hear it. 

His hand lingered. Not on her skin. Just near. 

The tension changed. 

It wasn’t quiet anymore. Not really. It buzzed. It ached. 

Ariana’s eyes flicked to his mouth. 

Just once. 

Then back to his eyes. 

Neither of them moved. 

But the space between them seemed to close without help. His hand dropped slowly to her jaw, hesitant, like a prayer in motion. Their foreheads were close now. Too close. Her lips parted just slightly. 

Then— 

“Oi! Anyone seen the wine opener?” 

The balcony door creaked open with a clatter. 

Ariana stepped back so fast she nearly bumped into the chair behind her. Lando turned toward the voice, blinking like someone pulled out of a dream. 

It was Max. 

In socks and holding a corkscrew. 

“Ah. Found it. Never mind,” he said, oblivious, disappearing back inside. 

The door closed. 

Silence fell again—but it was different now. 

Charged. Unfinished. 

Ariana was looking down, one hand nervously adjusting the sleeve of her sweater. 

Lando cleared his throat, voice rough. “Sorry.” 

“Don’t be,” she said quickly. Too quickly. 

They stood there for a second longer, the almost-moment still hanging between them, breathless and fragile. 

Then she looked up at him and whispered, “Next time, maybe.” 

His eyes met hers. 

Soft. Certain. 

“Yeah,” he said. “Next time.” 

@landonorris

Quiet nights with loud friends🍕✨

Liked by @arianariverria, @maxfewtrell and @pietra

@maxfewtrell

I wonder what you were doing on that balcony...

@pietra

you’re welcome for the candlelight and the entire concept of ambiance

@carlossainz55

I can’t believe you didn’t burn the pizza this time. proud.

@softlapclub

this is such a vibe, what even is this new aesthetic era??

@filmfoodandformula

slide 4 is the most intentional accidental aesthetic I’ve ever seen

@gridandgrace

Ariana liked… interesting 👀 just sayin

@pietra Pizza night supremacy

Liked by @maxfewtrell and @arianariverria

@filmfeedgirls

Any party that includes a movie and pizza is a success

@f1andchill

petition for Pietra to host every hangout from now on

@maxfewtrell

not even a picture of me. terrifying.

@dancecorecollective

Who is that girl with the red rubbon ??

@curatedchaosx

Ariana liking this post, are they friends now ?

Instagram Story – @arianariverria

@vibesinballet

Ariana liking Lando’s and Pietra’s posts? 👀 hmm. Interesting.

@gridsofts

Her story feels like it’s from the same night as Pietra’s post… cozy crossover content???

@justalittleslowburn

no one’s saying anything but the vibes are vibing…

Taglist : @angelluv16, @httpsxnox, @anunstablefangirl, @chocolatemagazinecupcake, @mayax2o07, @freyathehuntress, @verogonewild, @esw1012, @lilyofthevalley-09

Let me know if you wanted to be added to the taglist !

[ceilidho]

fear of god

There's someone outside the spacecraft. You don't remember them being part of the crew. Part 6 masterlist

-

The interior door slides open when Gaz pulls down the lever on his side, fitting into the recesses in the wall until there’s nothing between you. He’s the same and yet entirely different with nothing separating the two of you; more corporeal, undeniably flesh and blood. You can feel it now—the heat of another body in close proximity.

His stare penetrates you to the root, eyes so dark that you can’t look away. It’d be easy to get lost in them, like falling into a black hole, body stretching out into infinity, even the smallest subatomic parts of you torn apart. Expressive eyes, the kind you might look at and think that there’s someone behind them worth knowing. But the sharp angularity of the intelligence there makes your skin crawl. 

Farah finds her voice before you do. “Who are you?”

Gaz breaks his stare to glance at her, his frozen smile suddenly warming. “We haven’t met; I’m Gaz.”

When he holds out his gloved hand, Farah only looks at it instead of taking it, disbelief warring with her common sense. You wish you could hear the thoughts running through her head. 

“You can see him too?” you whisper to her.

Her head snaps in your direction, dark brows already furrowed. “Of course I can. What are you talking about?”

It’s perhaps impossible to explain without making yourself sound insane. More insane, in any case. But with the proof in front of you now, you can’t deny any longer that Gaz is real; that after days spent worrying about the state of your crumbling mental health, the very cause of your concern now stands before you, witnessed by someone else. You’d laugh if you didn’t feel faint. 

Because he is real—all six feet and two inches of him. Close enough to reach out your hand and touch. His skin looks buttery soft; if you were a foot closer, you’d almost be tempted to take his hand if only to see if your fingers would pass through.

Without warning, the intercom suddenly crackles to life again and a familiar voice blares from the speaker. “Panel secure. Headed back now.”

The sound of Nikolai’s voice sends a jolt of electricity up your spine. Even Gaz glances over his shoulder at the door and the vastness of space behind it. There’s nothing there, but his thickly accented voice asks for confirmation and you know it must be him, not a trick of the comms system. You stumble back until you hit the wall behind you.

“Kolya?” you hear Graves respond sharply, his voice still carrying through the ship over the intercom. “Shit, is that you? Do you hear me?”

“Черт побери. Yes, I hear you, mother hen,” Nikolai laughs in response. His laughter is a crisp, hollow sound over the intercom, like crackling blue electricity. “On my way back now. No need to pluck all your feathers out.”

His nonchalance is, frankly, unreasonable for the amount of time elapsed since he last checked in with the crew. 

A whole body comes into view this time, an astronaut waving to you through the window of the exterior door. Even from the other side, you can tell it’s Nikolai, the sheer size of him apparent. 

“Alhamdulillah,” Farah breathes, pulling the lever down for a second time to initiate the return sequence. 

Like deja vu, you watch as the first set of doors open and Nikolai slowly makes his way into the airlock one slow step at a time, the man looking no worse for wear. Beside you, Farah whispers something that you miss. The doors slide shut noiselessly behind him, and again you watch as a man in a spacesuit undergoes repressurization, the tensing of his shoulders making his discomfort with the process apparent. 

He already has his helmet off before the second door even opens. “Like I said, easy peasy. Can someone get me a coffee now?”

It’s almost too much for you to digest in such a short period of time, your emotions slingshotting between losing Nikolai and finding a strange man floating in the middle of space and then hearing the Russian man’s voice again like nothing happened. Lost time, or gained time. 

He must pick up on the way you and Farah simply gape at him in stunned silence.

“Something the matter?” Nikolai asks, a thick caterpillar eyebrow arched. A second later, he registers the other man in the hallway and grins. “Ah, you met Gaz. Nice guy, huh?”

“You know him?” Farah asks, her incredulity apparent.

“We met outside. I sent him in to get warm.”

You’re properly dumbfounded now, staring at Nikolai with abject disbelief for giving someone permission to board the ship without the commander’s permission. 

The footsteps of your commander and his second echo as they race down the hallway from the cockpit, the metal clunking under their boots. Louder and louder until they reach you, coming to a halt just a few feet away.

“Didn’t think I was gone that long,” Nikolai murmurs, stripping out of his spacesuit at the same time. Without a word, Farah helps him tuck it back into the storage locker he originally took it from. 

The two men stalk forward the remaining distance and when you look over at Graves, you can see the worry and relief writ large across his face, his attempts at concealing his emotions only partially successful. 

“What the fuck happened?” Graves barks, his expression stern until his eyes land on Gaz standing peacefully in the middle of the corridor, and then something shifts. A brief uncertainty clouding the pale blue of his eyes. “Who’s this?” 

Gaz lifts a gloved hand in greeting. “Name’s Gaz.”

“Found him outside wandering around,” Nikolai booms, slinging an arm over Gaz’s shoulders in an obvious show of fondness. “Poor bastard couldn’t find his crew.”

“Just wandering around in the middle of nowhere?” Graves asks, cocking a brow, skepticism thick in his words. 

Gaz smiles sheepishly. “It’s my fault. I got a bit turned around.”

Graves hums, mulling over the information. “…Turned around, huh?”

“Yes, sir. Looked away for a second and then my group was gone.”

“That doesn’t sound pleasant at all.”

“No, sir. Not at all.”

His deference is second to none. You could almost imagine yourself believing him, swept away by concern for his welfare. 

There’s a difference though. You’ve had the benefit of several days of acclimation. 

“Sir—commander,” you interject, swallowing when Graves turns his attention on you, the microexpression that flits across his face betraying his displeasure at being interrupted. “I’m sorry, but this makes no sense. I don’t see how…well, how he could have survived out on his own. I mean—” Your eyes flick towards Gaz. “I’m sorry, but none of this makes any sense to me.”

Graves’ lip curls up. "What doesn't make any sense?"

"Well, should we have brought him in? This just doesn't seem like protocol—"

“I don’t get your point, doctor. Should we have just left him out there to die? I thought you had that whole Hippocratic oath to uphold.”

None of this makes any sense to you. Apart from Farah, they’re being entirely too cavalier for happening upon a man in the middle of nowhere. There should be talk of heading back to Earth or quarantining him in the brig. 

“It’s not about that,” you croak. 

“I don’t understand you, doctor. You of all people should want to help.”

But he’s the man I’ve been seeing for days, you almost scream, but the blatant disapproval in Graves’ eyes makes you hold your tongue. You know your instincts aren’t wrong. Basic science isn’t wrong. Even if his spacesuit were able to provide basic environmental protection and life support, the longest a human might be able to survive after becoming untethered from their ship would be just under nine hours. 

You don’t know why this isn’t registering as strange to any of them. They act as though there’s nothing at all unusual about a man floating in space without any spacecraft within fifty million miles of him. As if this were just something that happened from time to time, and not an unprecedented anomaly. 

“Well, you could probably do with some shut eye after your trip, I reckon,” Graves says, clamping a hand down on Gaz’s shoulder and giving it a light squeeze. “We have a spare bunk near mine—bit cramped, but I’m sure you’ll make do.”

Gaz tips his head in thanks. “I’d appreciate it.”

“And—sorry, forgot to ask, but are you good? Not feeling faint or sick or anything? I know our doctor’s a little prickly, but whatever you need, she can help with.”

The weight of Gaz’s gaze makes your body feel leaden. 

“All good for now,” he says, still smiling serenely. His stare never wavers, smile never dips. “But don’t worry, love. I’ll come find you when I need you.”

Nikolai’s arm drops from his shoulder and Graves leads him off down the corridor to recuperate in his new room. The scream is buried in your throat; if you try to cough it up, only blood and mucus will come out. 

You can only watch helplessly as they walk away, Farah gone by the time you remember to look for her. 

After that, hours pass by without any sight of the man who recently boarded your ship. You don’t see much of anyone in fact. Hadir eats lunch around the same time as you, but his conversation is oddly circulatory, muddled, like he can’t keep his thoughts straight. He mentions the same thing twice and doesn’t seem concerned when you politely remind him that he already told you. He also doesn’t seem to register your words when you tentatively broach the subject of Gaz’s sudden appearance. 

Hadir shrugs, seemingly unconcerned. “Better for us anyway. Could be nice to have another warm body around here.”

“Don’t you…don’t you remember what I told you the other day?” you prod, pushing your potatoes around with your fork, your stomach in knots. “When I told you I saw someone outside?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s who I was talking about,” you whisper, as if concerned about being overheard. “I saw Gaz out there. He must have been out there…for days at least.”

“Ah,” he says, mildly contemplative. “Funny, that.”

The conversation feels like a dead end because it is, and you abandon it not long after when you realize that though Hadir is responding to your words, he doesn’t seem to be understanding them. It’s like you’re talking to an automaton, something designed to give you a response but not engage like a human would.

Even that thought seems wrong somehow. You shouldn’t be thinking those kinds of things about your coworkers. 

Back in the medical unit, you pick up the stool that fell to the ground on your way out earlier and take a seat, sipping periodically at the ice cold coffee still sitting on the table. Your mind goes blank for some time. Different than earlier though—not the blankness of concern and paranoia, but the blankness of complete stupefaction. 

It gives you some time to think, but no matter how many times you run through the events of the day in your mind, you keep coming back to the same questions. The same questions with no answers. 

Appetite a no show, you figure it’s better to just retire to your quarters for the evening. 

In bed, you read the same paragraph of your book three times before it sinks in. You can’t concentrate on anything. The same phrase on a loop, your real thoughts swarming like locusts and drowning out the narrator in your head. 

A knock at your door startles you, accidentally making you crinkle a page of your book with your thumb. You bite back a curse, smoothing the page out and calling out a frustrated one second when the person on the other side of your door knocks again. Impatient much. 

You open the door, expecting to find Graves or Nikolai on the other side, only for you to balk when you’re met with the sight of Gaz towering over you, his forearm braced against the doorframe. 

“Hi,” he says after a beat of silence. 

“…Are you lost?” you ask suspiciously. 

“No. Thought I’d stop by before I turn in for the night.”

Something occurs to you the longer you stand so close to him. It’s been lingering in the back of your mind since the interior doors to the airlock slid open and he boarded the ship, a thought hidden under its own afterbirth, placenta and membranous fluid soaking the ground beneath it. A thought that, to this point, has escaped your notice, hiding away like a prey animal. 

And it’s that: Gaz doesn’t have a smell. When you inhale, he doesn’t smell like anything you’ve ever smelt before. No lingering traces of body odour or sweat or soap. You breathe in and it’s like you’re standing in front of an empty doorway staring out into the empty hallway. 

But he does have a scent. 

It doesn’t register to your nose, not a scent that your olfactory senses can detect. Nothing like that. Instead it hits you like a memory, like a feeling blooming in your chest. Palo santo and orange blossom; the sound of a tennis ball hitting a racket; an aerial view of an Olympic pool and someone swimming laps, their body stark against the blue; white florals and a masculine voice laughing. 

His scent is a delicious rush of wonder and elation, a dopamine spike. You crane your neck to meet his eyes and honestly you’d forgotten how beautiful he is. An Adonis; over six foot and body corded with muscle. Lean waist and wide shoulders. The most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen, sculpted from something divine, a substance not found on Earth but in a more heavenly realm. 

You rock forward on your heels, pulled like a magnet towards his lips. His lips gently part, anticipating yours before they’ve even met.

Your hand hits the wall and reality comes back to you. Solid metal under your feet and an aluminum composite under your hand. White, sterile walls. In the hallway, the lights dim as the night cycle commences. You have to physically shake your head to rid your mind of any thoughts of Earth. It’s still there though, on the periphery of your senses; a dream world that you might get lost in if you were to look for too long.  

Something is very wrong. 

You rest back on your heels and move your hand until it hovers over the button to close your door. 

“Unless you’re sick, I can’t help you.”

“I’m not sick, love.”

“Then what do you want?” you bite out, overtly hostile now. 

He smiles but he doesn’t blink. Then his eyes flick up, studying the room behind you, his gaze roving over the walls and furniture, scrutinizing your space. Examining the clothes strewn over your bed, the little knick knacks and oddities that make your room yours. 

“Just wanted to see what it looked like from the inside,” Gaz finally says, and your blood goes cold. 

With that, he pulls his forearm off the doorframe and straightens to full height. 

He makes it a few feet away from your door before turning around to look back at you. “Night, love. See you in the morning.”

[h0neylevi]

After a major shift, your life has become a series of monotonous routines. Eat, sleep, go to work, repeat. But when you find a man bleeding on the subway with no idea how he got there, things become anything but ordinary.

General content warnings: isekai/parallel universe, modern AU, mentions of blood and canon-typical violence, some light angst, eventual smut.

chapter warnings: mentions of blood/cleaning of wounds

word count: 3.2k

It’s just after midnight when you make it to the metro platform.

The descent underground is quiet. Below the bustling city streets, you go through the process of boarding a train back home in a bit of a mindless daze, having done this cycle of late night shifts at the hospital countless times before.

The carriage is empty when you walk on board, silent except for the pneumatic hiss of the doors that slide closed behind you. You fall into the nearest seat with a heavy sigh.

It’s the first time in thirteen hours you’ve really been able to get off your feet.

Working four 12 hour days in a row can be tiring, but it’s worth it most of the time for the following four days off that you’re able to get. Four days off of freedom—which usually means catching up on errands. Laundry, getting groceries, and cleaning.

It’s just you now, so things tend to pile up much more quickly.

As you feel the rumble of movement beneath you, the momentum causing you to sway a little in your seat, you stare unblinking at the opposite window. Flashes of advertisements and thick concrete tunnel walls speed by in a blur, and you allow your mind to wander.

Maybe you could go to that new cafe in the morning that opened up on College Street. It’s been a while since you’ve taken a moment just for yourself. Or maybe you could take a book to the park after cleaning your apartment. The weather was supposed to be nice, and that used to be your favorite thing to do before…

The train slows to a stop before you continue down that line of thinking. With a droning chime, the doors open to signal would-be passengers to either depart or climb aboard.

A pleasant female voice erupts from the intercom system. “This is Freedom Park Station. Please stand clear of the doors.”

It’s not unheard of for others to be out so late, particularly on a Friday night, so to see a man walk aboard doesn’t immediately surprise you.

What does cause you to do a double take is the state of him.

The first thing you see is the insignia of the wings of freedom, a symbol you immediately recognize on the back of the green cloak covering his upper half from one of your favorite shows, Attack on Titan.

The second thing you notice is that he’s soaked.

That’s odd. You don’t remember it raining earlier in the day, but it could have been a brief downpour in another part of the city. And he’s clearly coming from an anime convention. Those were usually held at the convention center on the other side of the city.

The man heavily slumps forward against the railing. His back is turned toward you, but you watch him thoughtfully, admiring the impressive handiwork of his costume. From under the cloak, you see the intricately wrapped belts of the omni-directional gear, as well as the boxes along his thighs that are used in the show to store blades. When you see a reflection of an advertisement briefly glimmer off of the surface, you realize that they’re actually metal.

Those must be heavy. Did he make them himself?

The train begins to move again and your thoughts are stopped short when the man stumbles, nearly falling. That’s when he turns and you notice the blood.

His face is covered in it.

You’re on your feet before you even realize it. “Excuse me.”

He turns at the sound of your voice and you see the source: a rough cut just above his right eyebrow.

The man sways unsteadily on his feet against the movement of the train. The look he gives you is immediately distrusting, but he doesn’t back away.

You stop a few feet from him. “Sir, are you okay?” When his eyes narrow, you point to the badge pinned to your work scrubs. “I’m a nurse, see?”

You wait as his eyes study your hospital badge for a moment.

“Where the hell am I?”

Okay, that’s potentially a cause for concern. “Uh.” You try to remember what stop he got on from. “Freedom Park.” The look on his face doesn’t resemble recognition. “You’re not from around here?”

For a moment, he seems to think. “No.”

There’s a sharp jolt from the train car and you both sway a little, him more than you.

You gesture to the empty seat next to him. “Here. You should probably sit down.”

He doesn’t argue as he takes a seat.

Looking him over, you consider your options. It isn’t too late to take him back to the hospital, but you don’t exactly want to after spending the entire day there already. From the looks of it, it doesn’t look like he’ll need stitches, but it doesn’t feel right to leave him alone in the state he’s in either.

“Can you tell me what happened?” you ask.

The man looks around for a moment. The look on his face turns apprehensive. “I don’t remember. There was a flash… and then I just woke up here.”

You raise your brows. Something about the way he says it feels like he isn’t being completely honest, but you suppose the bleeding itself is a more pressing concern right now anyway.

“Okay,” you say. “Well, that cut doesn’t look too deep, but you should get it cleaned.” You pause for a moment, debating. “My apartment is at the next stop.”

You had meant it as a suggestion, but the man doesn’t seem to follow.

“I can look at it for you,” you add. “Maybe help you find wherever you were supposed to stay.”

He seems to consider it for a long moment, looking from you to around the empty train car and then back to your badge.

“Alright,” he says as the train begins to slow. When it comes to a stop and the doors open with their loud hydraulic hiss, he follows you back out onto the platform.

It’s quiet for most of the walk back. You go through the motions of exiting the station—swiping your pass and leading the way up the winding corridors to street level while the man follows, watching your movements and your surroundings with a puzzled sort of awe.

It isn’t until you’re pulling out the keys to your place before you turn to him again.

“So, what’s your name?”

He gives you a subdued look. “Levi.”

You smile.

“No, really…” you press, looking over his clothes again. It’s obvious that’s what he’s going for now that you see him up close—the scout uniform and the way he’s styled his hair. Come to think of it, he has Levi’s frame as well. And his eyes.

It’s a damn good cosplay actually. If Levi Ackerman were to magically come out of the television screen as a flesh and blood person, he’d look exactly like this guy.

But judging by his expression and the complete lack of response, he isn’t interested in giving you any sort of real information.

You turn then, your smile dropping, and lead the way into the apartment building. “O-kay.”

It’s possible, you guess, that his name really is Levi. Just a very bizarre coincidence that he happens to look and act exactly like your favorite character from an anime and also likes the anime as well. There are billions of people in the world though. Stranger things happen all the time.

Reluctant to piss him off further, the rest of the walk up to the second floor is done in more silence. You unlock your front door and lead the way inside, smiling when you hear the telltale trill of your cat greeting you at the door.

“Hello, Luna,” you greet, bending down to run your hand between the shorthair’s ears. She pushes herself up into your hand a little further with a chirp.

Still at the door, the man—Levi—watches.

“Luna?” he asks in a flat tone.

You straighten back up, noting his hesitancy to walk forward. “You’re not allergic, are you?” That would be some cosmic bad luck on his part to deal with a head wound and an allergic reaction in one night.

But thankfully, he shakes his head.

“Don’t worry about her, she’s affectionate but she’s harmless,” you say, sidestepping around your cat to walk further into your living room. When Levi joins you, you gesture to the sofa. “Have a seat there. I’ll be right back with some supplies.”

You don’t wait around to see if he does what you say, instead dipping down the hall toward a small office. It’s mostly just a place for all of your trinkets—a desk filled with a few figures and a computer. Some bookshelves line the walls, collecting dust. It’s been months since you’ve picked up a good book or did much of anything in this room, really. But you know exactly where to look for the supply kits you’ve managed to stock up on from the hospital.

After you find the suture thread and some wound wash, you grab a towel from the bathroom next door and return to the living room.

Levi is there, sitting on the edge of the sofa as if he’s afraid to get comfortable. His gaze keeps jumping around the room, taking in the layout and decor, and his fists rest stiffly on his knees. Luna is next to him, tentatively sniffing at his knuckles with a curious stretch of her neck.

You shoo her away gently and take her place on the sofa. The angle of light allows you to see the source of the drying blood on his face a bit better.

Quietly, you look him over. “How are you feeling?”

He watches as you slip on a pair of gloves. “I’ve had worse.”

You snort lightly and begin to prep the fresh towel with wound wash.

“Do you have stuff like this happen to you often?” you ask, now reaching to press the towel to his face.

At your question, he pulls his one uncovered eye from you, surveying the room again. “Nothing quite like this.”

“What happened?”

Levi is quiet for a moment before he says, “It was nothing. I fell.”

You pause your movements, frowning. “This doesn’t look like the kind of cut you’d get from a fall.”

“Why does it matter?”

Judging by his defensive tone, he knows more than he’s letting on, but you can’t figure out why he isn’t being honest.

But with him already in your apartment, you don’t want to do anything to unnecessarily antagonize him. Even in his current state, he looks strong and capable enough to hurt you.

Probably best to just change the subject.

“Did you have somewhere you were staying?” you ask, returning to your task.

You gently dab the towel down the curve of his jaw and feel the muscle tense beneath your touch.

“No,” he finally says.

“You came all the way here for a convention and didn’t book a hotel?”

“A convention?”

“Yeah,” you nod, gesturing to his clothes. “You’re a scout, right?”

At your words, his expression becomes a bit more relieved. He nods. “Yes. I got onto that... train thing because I hoped it might take me to headquarters.”

You blink as you listen to him. Did he hit his head hard enough for him to think that he is Levi Ackerman?

Maybe you should take him to the hospital anyway just to get him checked out. He seems perfectly lucid otherwise though, if a bit confused.

You reach forward and check his head wound again. Just like you thought, it’s too shallow to need stitches and isn’t bleeding anymore, so that’s a good sign. Maybe it could wait until morning.

“Do you feel sick?” you ask, searching his expression for any lack of focus or disorientation but find none. “Nauseated? Dizzy?”

“Other than the stabbing pain above my eye?” he deadpans, glaring at you. “No. I feel fine.”

You sigh. This is insane, considering letting a complete stranger stay in your apartment. But he doesn’t have anywhere else to go and he’s still soaking wet. You’d feel guilty if you just let him go and he got into trouble. At the very least, you could make sure he has somewhere to sleep. 

You get to your feet and look over his clothes once more. “You can stay here tonight if you’d like. I think I might have some old clothes you can sleep in, and there’s a shower down the hall.”

He gives you a distrustful look. “You’re putting a lot of faith in a stranger.”

You raise a brow. “I guess we both are. But if you’d rather sleep out in the cold, then be my guest.”

That seems to give him pause, and he looks around the room once more.

“Where did you say the shower was?”

“Down the hall, second door on the left,” you tell him. “I can get you a towel and some clothes.”

You dispose quickly of the bloodied towel in your kitchen trash along with your gloves and turn back down the hall again. When you return, Levi is standing awkwardly next to your sofa. He seems to be pointedly ignoring Luna, who is still curiously sniffing him from the armrest.

“These should fit,” you tell him, patting the folded up sweatpants and an oversized shirt tucked beneath your arm. “Just leave your things in the bathroom and I’ll make sure your clothes are washed in the morning.”

He takes the items from you with another skeptical glance. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I have to do laundry anyway,” you wave him off. “It’s no trouble.” Quickly, you point at him. “Just don’t scrub at that cut. You’ll just make it bleed again.”

He doesn’t move immediately when you back away to let him pass by, but the promise of a hot shower seems to eventually override whatever keeps him fixed in place. Without another word, he retreats down the hall, right to the second door on the left like you told him.

What a strange man.

It takes fifteen minutes before you hear the shower turn on.

In that time, you busy yourself with finding a spare blanket and a pillow and leave them on the sofa. You tidy up a little next, grabbing leftover drinking glasses off the table and discarded socks that had been pushed under the coffee table. It isn’t much, but you’re left feeling slightly less anxious about the state of your place by the time you’re finished. You like to keep things tidy to begin with, but the place certainly looks lived in right now.

Curious, you sink into a chair and pull out your phone while you’re waiting and click on the search engine, quickly typing in a few keywords to check on any local anime conventions happening in the area.

There are no ongoing events, and the next one isn’t happening until six months from now.

Well, that eliminates your theory. So then what the hell was he doing cosplaying on the street on a random Friday? If he was with someone, he wouldn’t have been wandering around alone and he said he wasn’t staying anywhere in the area.

The thought occurs to you that maybe this is some sort of trap to lure unsuspecting women into vulnerable positions, preying on a person’s compassion. But then, that was very real blood on his face and a very real wound, and he has had ample opportunities to attack and rob you if that was truly what he was after. He might look intimidating, but there’s nothing about him that screams that you’re in any sort of immediate danger either.

Maybe you can get some real answers out of him in the morning when he’s less grumpy.

You’re feeding Luna in the kitchen when Levi reappears.

With silent relief, you note that his wound seems to still be fine. He looks healthier in general after cleaning off, but he also looks… well, even more like Levi Ackerman. It’s kind of uncanny.

“What?”

You jump when you hear his voice. He’s watching you from the living room, looking about as confused as you feel.

Shit, have you been staring? “Nothing.” You sigh and rub at your eyes. It’s been too long of a day to start questioning your sanity. “Are you hungry or anything? I have some leftovers I can heat up really quick.”

“I’m fine.” He shakes his head and turns his attention to the blanket and pillow on the sofa. 

Carefully, he arranges it how he likes and sits down. He glances at the television on the other side of the room before looking around again, lingering at times on things like the lamps in the corners and over to the open kitchen.

His hands fidget in his lap.

“I’ll be out of here first thing in the morning.”

The sound of his voice surprises you.

“Where are you going to go?”

He shrugs. “I’ll figure it out.”

You chew on the inside of your cheek thoughtfully. He’s a grown man, so it shouldn’t concern you what he does. But his comments about not being from here, and the whole thing about him trying to find ‘headquarters’? You’d feel better knowing there isn’t anything you’ve missed.

“At least let me take you to the hospital to get that cut checked out,” you suggest. “We can go first thing while your clothes are drying.”

He scoffs but the sound is entirely devoid of humor. “I told you I’m fine.”

“So it’ll be a quick visit and you can be on your way in no time,” you reply. “One of the doctors I work with can look you over before we open. He won’t mind.”

“Or I could just leave in the middle of the night.”

“I guess.” You shrug. “I wouldn’t be able to stop you, but that’s your choice. My conscience can be clear as long as I’ve offered to help you. I can’t make you take it, but I think it’s a good idea.”

He glares at you from the sofa, but doesn’t reply.

You get the sense that he doesn’t want to be bothered anymore. With the night he’s had, he probably just wants some rest, and you’re more than willing to get some sleep yourself.

Now that the shock of the night has worn off a bit, your body feels heavy as you get to your feet.

Levi stays quiet as you move around the room, shutting off lights and locking your front door. He moves to lay down once he gathers what you’re doing.

“I’ll get you up in the morning,” you tell him from the hallway. “Get some sleep.”

That earns you little more than a grunt of acknowledgement.

When you get into your room, you make sure to lock the door and find a baseball bat from the depths of your closet to sit by your bed. You’ve always been a light sleeper, so you hope that you’ll be able to hear if he decides to try anything.

You go through your nightly routine and climb into bed, then send off a text before closing your eyes—a message to one of your friends and fellow co-workers at the hospital.

Hey, could you do me a huge favor tomorrow morning? It’ll be quick.

Hopefully, when you wake up, Levi will still be there.

[dyli-dadi3]

Be My Valentine

When a drop-dead gorgeous girl keeps on coming to your drive-through, it's pretty damn hard not to ask her out. Well, not if you're Leon.

Just a cute lil blurb of Leon awkwardly asking you to be his Valentine. Tags: Fluff, Leon being a cutie. No seriously, he makes me wanna explode.

When Leon handed you your order that one fateful morning, he nearly dropped it. God, you were so pretty it hurt to look at you.

The sun was just rising, casting a warm glow on your skin. Your smile was so bright that he swore you flashed him in the eyes. Or maybe that was the glare from your car as you drove away.

Either way, your face plagued his thoughts. He felt like a fool. He couldn't even remember what lame phrase he uttered as you thanked him. The memory was blurry, and he was honestly thankful for it. He's sure that any chance was lost after you heard him babble like a kid. If you weren't turned off by the fact that he worked at McDonalds.

God, he really had no chance, huh?

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The second time you showed up, he was just as surprised. But this time, he ensured he properly handed you your food and wished you a good day. Your smile was rushed, but you thanked him anyway as you sped off.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Every day for the next week you showed up. It quickly became the highlight of his day. Every morning you would order a breakfast combo, and he would be warmed to the core with your kind words and bright smile. He'd make it his mission to be in the drive-through whenever you were supposed to be. It got so bad that his coworkers would always tease him.

"H-Have a nice day, ba-baby!" One of them whispered with a laugh when you drove off.

"Oh, shut it!" Leon's ears began to turn red as he rushed to grab a cup and fill it with Sprite.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

He flopped onto his bed, damp hair wetting his pillow as he sighed. He thought about you, as normal for him. But today was different.

It was a week until Valentine's Day, and he couldn't stop thinking of you. He wouldn't kid himself, picking up girls was never his strong suit. Yeah, he somehow finds himself dating 10's, but that doesn't mean he means to! It just... kinda happens.

But he feels so strongly about you. With every little bit of information he gets out of you, he gets more and more invested. Of course, it isn't groundbreaking lore, but it's you and he can't help but find it interesting. He wants to know more.

He spends his nights thinking about what you love and hate, fantasizing about having a real conversation with you and learning everything you're willing to give him. It's maddening.

The thought of being too late, of you finding someone else before him is impossible, so he decides that that won't happen. Not while he's still alive and kicking.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The next day comes and he's shaking like a leaf, face pale and so sickly that his manager almost sent him straight home. He pleaded, assuring her that he was fine (bless her heart, she's the only manager that doesn't make him want to rip his hair out).

He waits anxiously in the first window, waiting to see your car drive into the drive-through.

7:30...

7:31...

7:31 and thirty seconds...Oh!

He was gonna throw up, he was sure of it. If he somehow didn't, he was positive that his stupid mouth would slur his words into alphabet soup. God, if he had to repeat himself?!?! That's usually what the person in the car does. God, would you think he's incompetent? You order the same dang thing every day,

In the two seconds that his mind took to tear itself apart, you pulled up to the intercom and rolled down the window.

"Good mo-morning, will you be using the mobile app today?" Fuck.

"No, can I just have my usual order, Leon?" You giggled, the sound making his knees weak despite the shitty intercom system.

Of course you'd laugh at him, you never use the app.

He never got why you didn't. I mean, you're coming here every day, it would save you money. But you would always smile and shake your head whenever he brought it up so he just stopped. He never got why you used cash, either, but he didn't want to start bothering you, so he spent his limited time with you talking about more interesting things.

"Of course, pull up to the first window." He said with furrowed brows. He didn't bother telling you the price, it was still the same as it had always been. But this time, he had something extra to give you.

Soon enough, you were pulling up with your money in your hand. He took the cash and took a deep breath as he did the transaction.

"He's your receipt, " he said, handing you the printed slip of thermal paper. Before you could leave, he turned to you, his face bright red and his hands shaking like he was tweaking, and handed you a box of sweets. "Y-You forgot your change."

Your eyes widened as you took the candy, face flushing as you saw the sticky note taped to the front.

Will you be my Valentine? XXX-XXX-XXXX

Your eyes darted to his, face plastered with that bright smile he adored so much as you nodded.

"I would love to, Le-"

HONK!

[kleine-joost]

Let Me Take Care Of You (Joost x Reader)

a/n: BOY IT HAS BEEN A WHILE um yeah life got busy, i am going to try to write more soon though

WARNINGS: literally just kissing and drunk joost. pretty tame tbh

The anticipation running through your body was just about driving you insane. You paced around your small living room, waiting for the buzz of your doorbell.

Joost had texted you about thirty minutes before. He’d gone out with some friends, and he was at least a little tipsy and missed you intensely. You had given the night out a skip, being as busy with work as you were, you just weren’t in the mood to wait for hours in lines outside clubs in the January cold all night. You were hoping to get a good night’s sleep for a change.

But here you were, at 1 in the morning, not being able to get to sleep without Joost to warm up your bed.

You made two cups of tea that were still steeping on the counter. Some sleep-inducing tea that you hoped would calm Joost down and let him actually get a decent night’s rest for once.

Stuntje had texted at about the same time Joost did, telling you that your boyfriend had gotten to the sappy stage of drunkenness and that he was going to have to help him get back to your apartment. It warmed your heart that even when you were apart, Joost was still as adoring of you as he was when it was just the two of you–you were glad he wasn’t one of those kinds of guys that were “too cool” to be sentimental around their guy friends, Joost was always to passionate about his love for the people in his life.

Your phone buzzed–another text from Stuntje. You swiped open the message, seeing a picture of Joost falling asleep on Stunje’s shoulder in an Uber with the added text “bringing him soon”. You finished prepping Joost’s tea–though you weren’t sure if he would actually need it to get to sleep if that photo was anything to go by. Still, you squeezed the stronger tea out of the bags and into your mug, though just into yours as you knew that Joost couldn’t stomach tea as strong as you liked.

The grating buzz of your wall unit filled your small apartment. Without even asking who was there, the intercom system rang out.

“Liefje…Baby…” You heard over the crackly static. Joost sounded tired.

“We’re here!” Stuntje yelled, sounding fed up with the drunken mess that he no doubt had to hold up to stop him from falling over.

You pressed the button to unlock the door, answering; “come up!”

It was barely a minute before you heard a key jingle on the other side of the door, followed by a jolt of Joost’s keyring being dropped on the floor of the hall and an exasperated sigh from Stuntje. You decide to give your friend a reprieve, opening the door to see the pair sluggishly struggling to pick up Joost’s keys off the floor.

Joost quickly collapsed into you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders the second he noticed that you had opened the door.

“Baby…’m missed you,” he mumbled into the crook of your neck as you gently placed a hand on his back to steady him.

You whispered a quick thanks and a ‘get home safe’ to Stuntje before locking the door again and leading an almost sleepwalking Joost to your shared bedroom.

He dropped onto the soft bedspread with a huff, not moving from where you left him while you went back to the kitchen to get his mug of tea.

You couldn’t help but smile to yourself as slowly sat up to sip the warm beverage, holding the mug with a feather-light touch–it was a mug he had gotten you as a gift from one of his many travels, with an image of the skyline of Toronto printed on the side of it.

“Fun night?” You asked, sitting next to him and leaning towards his feet to help him untie his shoelaces.

He hummed in response, still with a mouthful of tea. “Would’ve been more fun if you were there.”

“Next time, alright?” You pulled one of his sneakers off his foot, earning a sigh of relief from Joost. You moved onto the other shoe.

“You should go to sleep, I need to shower,” he said, sluggishly swatting your hands away from the laces, dampened from god-knows-what during the evening.

You laughed at his fumbling, his fatigued efforts to get you to stop. “Let me help you!”

He sighed in defeat. “You don’t have to, you know?”

“Yeah,” you answered, slipping off his other shoe. “But I like helping you.”

You stood up, standing over him as he sat on the edge of your bed. You placed a gentle hand on his cheek, which he instantly leant into.

“Let me take care of you.” You leant down and placed a gentle kiss on his lips.

Something about the kiss woke him up, he was quick to reciprocate. Discarding the half-empty mug of tea on the nightstand, he stood up and pulled your body even closer to his, deepening the kiss.

You quickly lost your breath as his hands began to wander from the back of your neck, to your ribcage, to the small of your back.

His kisses were sloppy–a byproduct of his intoxication–and you were quickly becoming desperate for any kind of relief.

You had to break the kiss for a breath, but Joost was still ravenous, kissing down your neck in a way that would surely leave some kind of mark in the morning.

“So,” you panted. “That shower?”

You felt Joost grin against your skin before his head raised to meet your eyes. “I think I’ll need help in there too.”

[luciathcv]

positive - jjk

summary: you take a test in which the results will completely change your life || warnings: idk reader is pregnant? || genre: fluff, established relationship, pregnancy au || word count: approximately 1100

I sat on the couch, trying my best to be patient and just wait for Jungkook to get home since he was bound to be any minute now. I was stressing and worried because, there was a chance that I could be pregnant.

I’m startled when I hear the sound of the front door unlocking. I glance over at the electronic intercom system on the wall and see Jungkook on the screen of it, opening the door and walking inside. I then look over and see the hallway light turn on.

I get up from the couch and walk down the hall, wanting to get there before my boyfriend took his shoes off. When I got to the end of the hall, I’d gotten there just in time as he was about to start untying his shoelaces.

“Jungkook.” I say and he looks up at me, giving me a small smile.

“Hey, princess.” He greets me.

“Can we go to the store?” I ask.

“Uh, okay. Come on.” Jungkook says without questioning anything at first. He stands up and we walk out of the apartment, going down the elevator and heading to the parking garage.

We get in the car and Jungkook starts it up, backing out of the parking spot. “So, what do you need, princess? Did you finally get your period? Do you need tampons/pads?” He asks as he starts to drive out of the parking garage.

“Well,” I think for a moment, “it’s kind of the opposite. I still haven’t gotten my period and I just, felt like I should get a pregnancy test just to make sure because usually my periods are never a week late.” I tell him.

He takes in what I said for a moment before nodding, “Okay, then let’s go to CVS and get a pregnancy test.” Jungkook says. I look at him, trying to analyze how he was feeling but I honestly couldn't tell.

Jungkook pulled into a parking spot and shut the car off. He unbuckled his seatbelt and I did the same as we got out of the car. We walked into the store and I made my way to the aisle that had the pregnancy tests, plan b, and all of that stuff.

I look at the pregnancy tests and pick out one, getting two of them just to be sure. Jungkook and I go to the counter to pay and I awkwardly hand the tests to the cashier. I mean, we're grown, there was no reason for me to be embarrassed but I was. Jungkook pulls out his card and pays for them.

"Good luck." The cashier says as she hands Jungkook the small bag with the two tests and the receipt.

He just gives her a small smile as he puts his hand on the small of my back and leads me away and out of the store. He opens my car door for me and I get inside, buckling my seatbelt before he hands me the small bag and shuts the door, going to the drivers seat.

At first, it's silent as Jungkook starts driving us home but eventually, he breaks the silence. "You know that no matter the result, I'll be here for you." He reassures me.

"I know." I say, nodding.

"I just, if you were pregnant, it's not like we couldn't support the baby. Well, if you wanted to keep the baby. That's your choice, I'm just.. I'm just saying." Jungkook tells me.

"I would.. I would want to keep the baby, if I was pregnant." I shyly respond.

"Oh," is Jungkook's only response. "I would like that." He tells me before connecting his hand with mine that rested in my lap, intertwining our fingers together as he handled the wheel with his other hand.

Truth be told, we were both kind of getting ahead of ourselves. I mean, I hadn't even taken the test yet, it's not like it was definite that I was pregnant. I guess we both kind of had a feeling that, that was the case though but neither of us would say that.

When we arrived at home, I walked over to the bathroom, the small bag in my hand. Jungkook stood in front of me, a little nervous but it wasn't obvious, as he leaned down and kissed me. I kissed him back for a few moments before we both pulled away and I made my way into the bathroom, shutting the door behind me.

After I'd peed on the sticks, I'd put them on counter and set a timer on my phone for three minutes. I didn't know this but Jungkook was sat with his back against the door, anxiously waiting for me.

Those three minutes were the longest three minutes of my life but finally, the timer went off and the results were ready. Jungkook had gotten up off of the floor and stood outside, ready to hear the results. I sighed as I stopped the timer and anxiously checked the tests.

Positive. Both tests were positive. I was pregnant. I was actually pregnant.

"You okay, baby?" I heard Jungkook ask from outside the door.

I grabbed the tests and walked over to the door, opening it. Jungkook looked into my eyes and without even having to look down, he could tell what the results were just from the way I looked up at him. He looked down anyway, just to make sure that his answer was right, and well, the tests confirmed his thoughts.

I burst into tears, I didn't know why. It was frankly just overwhelming. All of it. Jungkook immediately took the tests from my hand, putting it on the counter again before he engulfed me into a hug. Moments later, Jungkook was also crying. We stayed like that for a while.

Jungkook ended up calming down before me but once I did, Jungkook pulled away a little, still holding me as he comfortingly patted my head.

"How do you feel?" Jungkook asked, just wanting to be there for me.

"Anxious but excited but just.. scared. I'm scared." I tell him.

"I know, princess. I'm scared too." Jungkook tells me. "But it'll be okay, right? We'll work through this, all of this, together." He says and I can't help but smile.

"You're going to be a dad." I softly say.

He smiles back at me, "And you're going to be a mom." He says before leaning down and giving a long and loving kiss on the lips. Although he was scared, he was ready to go through this journey with you and to be there for you. And, well, your future child.

ᥫ᭡ link to my masterlist

[maulsscream]

SURVIVALISM | Chapter 03

(gif by unmaderedemption)

Krennic x f!Senator

Chapter 01 - Chapter 02 - Chapter 03 - ...

2951 words | M rated | Alcohol, sexual content

Summary: Her worst nightmare has happened and only Krennic seems able to fix it. She's forced to invite him to her home world, and it truly lives up to its reputation. Even he can't deny there's a certain something about the air that makes people release their inhibitions. This is going to be a long night.

A/N: Get in losers we're going to Cal Hantur! I love writing Krennic as an asshole, it does something to me that's not healthy. This is only gonna get sluttier and more twisted from here. Fashion reference

Let me know if you'd like to be added to/removed from the taglist! 🫶

@perceivedalbatross @sparklebunny57 @weneedwhiskey @chxelsxaa @natasha-roamingoff @forlornghosts @romaelia @icebearrrrr

"Thank you, Plunn, that will be all."

You pressed the intercom button to end the call and stared into the distance in muted silence as the holo disappeared. Your skin felt clammy, your pulse quickened on the verge of bursting your eardrums. This was a disaster. No matter how much you had spent mentally preparing yourself to the possibility, this reality was worse than you could have ever imagined.

You had been woken up in the middle of the night by an urgent call from your head of security, Plunn, who had worked himself into a panic. After weeks of failed attempts, the insurgents had finally been able to breach your data centre which hosted critical information about your guests. A significant percentage had been decrypted and copied before your team had been able to shut down the system. You could smooth it over with the richest of your patrons but some information on Military High Command had been stolen too. This would prove much harder to sweep under the rug.

Your head fell into your hands and the tips of your fingers reached into the roots of your hair to pull. Your nails leaving red tracks into your scalp. Your home was going to make headlines across the galaxy. You would either end up in prison under the assumption that you had helped the rebels, or worse... you could end up dead like your predecessor. It was clear now why he had preferred to drown himself in a hotel pool than face the consequences of his own actions.

Worst of all, you came to the conclusion that this was not a clean up job you could do on your own. You needed allies. Powerful ones, at that.

Smoothing your hair back in place, you straightened your posture. If sleep was not going to be an option for the rest of the night, you might as well be productive with your time. Your hand trembled as you reached for the intercom again to call your driver and aid this time. She answered immediately.

"I need you to find me a way to contact Director Krennic. Urgently."

It was time to go home to fix this.

-------------------

Cal Hantur was still asleep when you landed that morning. Most people would still slumber on for a couple more hours before heading to the various amenities that the city-wide resort offered; large heated pools, private spas, white sand beaches, bustling casinos, and high-altitude bars. You planned on heading for the data centre first to asses the damage from up close before resting for a moment if your nerves allowed. You had received word that you could expect an Imperial visit later that evening. A double edged blade if you'd ever seen one.

The simple comfort of being home lulled you into a much calmer state. The air smelt familiar, a mix of sea and greenery. Your clothes, much too heavy for the tropical weather, clung to you tightly as you made your way into the private elevator that would take you to your office and apartments from within the casino. Being outside with this many layers on immediately warranted a shower. You couldn't wait for the cool of the evening to settle on the city. Dusk had always been your favourite time of day.

Once inside, you selected a gown from your collection that was a mix of a light brown fabric and gold ropes. It exposed much of your back and torso, leaving your arms naked and your limbs feeling free. You were glad to shed the intricacies of your Coruscant wardrobe and to be back in garments that matched your status and power. This kind of dress would have gotten stares and whispers on the capital planet, but not here. Here it represented everything about Cal Hantur that you had always loved. Its nature just as much as its glamour.

You were certain that your guests would have comments about your choice of dress. You hoped he would.

Before making your way to the arrival platform, you took your time to observe the roster of guests from your datapad. There was a significant increase in Imperial presence both in and out of uniform from what you could see by glancing around. Had they suddenly all gotten a pay rise? This needed to be addressed. Perhaps bumping the prices by a few hundred credits would push out the low spenders to a less luxurious port of call. Cal Hantur had a reputation to uphold. If they wanted cheap and tacky gambling, they could go to Canto Bight. You were made for the elite.

-------------------

You arrived just in time to see the shuttle descend upon the platform like a looming cloud of bad news. The size of the party that would be joining you was uncertain and you had been unable to gain more insight on the transport. This was being kept under lock and key even within Military High Command it seemed. It did nothing to settle your nerves. And yet, if no one knew that the ISB was here, no one had a clue they should even be looking at Cal Hantur. Perhaps this was for the best.

You stood flanked by your security guards, a few attendants waiting behind your group in a single line with various drinks on platters. This was all in the hopes that you would appear the picture of calm and in charge. You needed these people to think they could have a good time, that there was nothing to worry about. Cal Hantur was a haven away from the business of their lives. You schooled your features into a radiant grin and imagined yourself welcoming a childhood friend to your home. You forced yourself to recall images of you and Lenn on your last outing. The two of you had laughed until your sides hurt at his terrible pronunciation of Twi'leki. You missed him more than ever now that you were about to face a nest of spiders in crisp uniform.

Krennic stepped down from the platform first, his cape whipping in the wind behind him as he made his way over to you slowly. Deliberately slowly. If his squadron of Death Troopers was anything to go by, this was a show of force for him the same way it was for you. You watched as his crystalline eyes settled on you, roaming your figure with barely concealed hunger. Yet his expression remained ever the picture of smug amusement. His predictability was a gift. Being lusted after by someone of his magnitude thrilled you even if should have frightened you. It had been too long since you had allowed yourself some terrible fun and he was gearing up to be the worst kind.

A few ISB members disembarked from the vessel and were immediately set upon by your attendants and security team. They had been told to meet any of their requests and show them the best that Cal Hantur had to offer... as soon as their job was done, of course. They were lead away just as quickly as they'd arrived, leaving you alone with the Director save for the oppressive presence of his guards.

"Senator.", Krennic greeted you as he looked around with curiosity.

"Director Krennic... Shall we?"

You were already stepping away, keen to put some distance between the two of you. The stares that passed between you every time you found yourselves alone were a heady mixture of distaste and greed. If it went on for much longer, you'd end up doing something regrettable.

"You're rather eager, aren't you?"

You were glad to have your back turned to him and allowed yourself to roll your eyes at the remark. There he is, you thought. Trust Krennic to get on your last nerve within a minute of being in his presence. It was as if he had a finger on the pulse of your temper. You looked forward to the day you could finally silence him.

"I wouldn't want you to miss a thing, that's all."

"Hmm, you know, I remember this place much more differently. It used to lack a certain... luster.", he mused.

"You've been to Cal Hantur before?", your head snapped back towards him over your shoulder.

The revelation came as a shock. Most Imperial personnel on Cal Hantur fit a very different picture. They were loud and overeager. They drank too much and spent credit like they burned a hole in their pockets. You assumed Krennic would have no time for galavanting across leisure planets. Had you ever been aware of his presence here? When was his last visit? You had been told from many trusted sources that he was married to his work and cared only for his projects, whatever those were presently.

"During my youth at the Future Program, yes. There were many covert excursions off world for me to partake in."

"Interesting. You don't seem the type.", you teased.

"And what type would that be?", he said with a chuckle.

"The social one."

You lead him through the casino entrance, handing him a drink from a tray and taking a sip from one yourself. The evening had only just started and you already needed a distraction from your racing thoughts. As worried as you were from the recent attack on your home, your attention was somewhere else right now. You felt stimulated for the first time in weeks. Such was the power of an attractive man lavishing you with attention and matching your verbal sparring effortlessly. There could be no harm in flirting if both parties knew what was at play.

"One can have a good time on one's own.", Krennic protested playfully, a hand at your back.

You didn't flinch this time and instead you tucked yourself closer to his touch. You hadn't noticed the lack of gloves until the moment his skin touched yours. His fingers felt soft yet direct. Like the touch of a man who knew exactly what he wanted and how to obtain it. Screw it, you'd gag him with his own cape if you had to. A handsome face like that couldn't go to waste. Still, you had to thread carefully. You allowed him to move his hand to your lower back as you pivoted to another alley between tables.

"But never as good as with company, correct?", you hummed provocatively.

Watching the innuendo sink in and settle on his features was delicious. The corners of his lips twitched up, an eyebrow raised questioningly at you. He could tell the mood had shifted. The blue of his eyes appeared to darken a fraction when he leaned over to whisper in your ear over the noise of the casino.

"I'm sure yours is very sought after these days, especially wearing that.", he purred as he plucked at a piece of rope at your side.

"Is that your professional assessment, Director?"

"A simple observation.", Krennic took a moment to mull over his words as if he were debating speaking at all. All part of the act, since you'd never known him to be uncertain.

"You look exquisite."

"That's awfully forward of you.", you stammered.

"I could be bluntly salacious if you preferred."

You had been ready to play but perhaps not so soon. Not so suddenly. The look he was giving you seared your skin. It was downright predatory.

A tray of drinks threatened to scrape his head and before you could stop yourself you had reached out to pull him closer with your hands at his back. He took a step into your personal space as you watched the attendant manoeuvre behind the pair of you. You had trapped yourself against a high table, Krennic's chest pressed against yours. You had the sudden urge to wrap your arms around his neck. Perhaps to strangle any more quips out of him.

"I think we'd be more comfortable in my office. This conversation should be private."

"Lead the way.", he conceded with a nod.

That damned grin. You turned away from him again and hurried towards your private elevator. It was a slow progress, and you could feel his fingers skimming the fabric of your dress each time you came to a halt behind a group. The slow heat that radiated from him only served to stoke your own appetite. You finally reached the elevator and stepped inside with him. The two of you remained silent as you ascended. He watched the casino, followed by the city, disappear from view during the climb. And you? You watched him take it all in, pride filling your lungs. All the advancements you had made over the past decade. The fruit of your hard labour.

"It's not that I haven't been enjoying our little back and forth, but did you bring me here to flirt all night?"

You made your way out of the elevator, making sure to sway your hips a little harder with each step. When you looked back over your shoulder, he was staring at your face with his hands clasped in front of him. Kriff. You were in trouble.

"Would that be a problem?", you said cooly. Act natural.

"Yes.", he replied without warmth.

"Why?"

Once you had reached your desk, you settled against it. Your hands smoothed over the edge, ankles crossed in front of you. The picture of ease. Krennic took a walk around the room. His hand was at his face, leaning into his fingers as if lost in thoughts over the artefacts you had amassed over the years for your private collection. You made no mistake about his demeanour; the was a shark hunting its prey.

"Don't play coy."

He came closer now. His boots echoing against the smooth stone of your floor.

"Do you know the kind of situation that is required for a man of my caliber to free his calendar, just to come here and mingle? Do you really think I'd come crawling to your rescue if I didn't see a benefit of some sort?"

You stiffened at his tone, your spine straight like durasteel. This was a business meeting and nothing else. No matter how many times your mind flashed images of his hands on you. No matter how his voice tickled your senses just right.

"Name your price then."

"Unlimited access to The Hedge. To study it, of course, nothing untoward... But I need full control of the operations. And your team."

"I can't simply let you--", you began to protest.

"Oh, I think you can Senator. You're not the only planet on my radar with an insurgence problem. You wanted my assistance? You have it. My undivided attention?"

He leaned into you fully this time. His breath ghosted over your neck as his face disappeared from view. You didn't dare look away from the settled point straight ahead.

"You have it.", he whispered in your ear.

His hands came to rest on the desk, framing your hips. Your legs parted automatically to let him in closer which he obliged. His face a mere few inches from yours. Your body felt like it had been dosed in fuel and set ablaze.

"For how long?"

Your hand was at his chest before you could stop it, unsure if it was to push him back and pull him closer. He seemed to want to answer a very different question. His tongue darted out of his mouth and ran along his lips, the motion catching your attention. You needed to taste it. You needed his lips on you. Right now. Nevermind all the threats he was making.

"However long it takes for you to beg me to stop. Though I don't think you're the type to quit while you're ahead, are you?"

"You're vile, and full of yourself.", you said with heat rising to your cheeks. A defense mechanism.

"Yes, I can see both attributes are doing absolutely nothing for you."

"Fuck you."

"You're about to.", he chuckled darkly.

You couldn't quite muster venom in your voice. Persuasion was a hell of a drug. Krennic ghosted his fingers from the base of your throat to your hip, hand hovering and never quite touching you. Your breath caught in your throat. You wanted him, so badly it was almost unbearable now. You were willing to forget his crimes and overreach if just he kept looking at you like he had already mentally peel off your gown and nestled between your thighs. His gaze a promise of what was to come.

"Our meeting at the gala last month, do you remember it? It took a great deal of composure not to ruin you as soon as I saw you... just like it does now."

You scoffed and rolled your eyes at him. The sound of his voice like liquid heat poured in your system. If only the words were sweeter, less of a gloat.

"Are you expecting congratulations for good behavior?", you replied, aggravated.

"A little fanfare wouldn't hurt."

The mischievous grin he wore was going to be the death of you.

"Stars, you're unbearable."

"Tell me to stop then.", Krennic murmured as his hand finally settled on top of your thigh, claiming space.

His cylinder beeped moments before you mustered the courage to throw yourself at him, caution and disgust be damned. Without moving from his spot between your legs, he answered like nothing at all was happening. Meanwhile your universe had just been shattered and rearranged at his whim.

"I'll be right there.", Krennic spoke in his cylinder.

He gave you a pitying look as he peeled himself from you and turned towards the exit. And just like that, he was gone without a word of goodbye.

[hotchswifey]

a little bit shy - rafael barba x reader smut

i wrote this like a year ago and never posted it???????? oml i kept thinking it was unfinished but like it’s 2700 words  😭 😭 😭 😭

 anyways i’m not rewriting it or even rereading it so!!! anyways, this is shitty but it’s mine so it’s fine

warnings: shy!reader, smut, vaginal fingering, reader is a virgin (par hand stuff she’s done with rafael), reader owns a bookstore/cafe, written with an age gap in mind (rafael is like ?? 40?? 45??? reader is like 23/24), rafael is a babe and i love him, your honour, also rafael is a brief man and nobody can convince me otherwise, also like the office spoilers ig??? but nothing major, daddy/papi kink, the reader may have a slight humiliation kink (it’s self-projection babes), also the translation is through google so sorry if it is incorrect!

(word count: 2740)

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You sat on the counter of your café, reading one of Stephen King’s books. You had closed up at 19:00 like you did every day (par Sundays where you closed up at 17:00); however, you had stayed behind in your store, deciding that you would leave when the rain cleared up - which, it hadn’t. You looked at the grandfather clock standing up against the wall - quarter past nine. The time had flown by as you were too engrossed in your book to notice the world outside and join the world written on the pages. You sighed as you jumped off the counter, folding the corner of (what was now) your personal copy of Doctor Sleep, realising that the weather would not get better anytime soon. Grabbing your hoodie (while cursing your past self for not bringing a coat to work), you turned off the lights, ensuring the ovens and such were also turned off. You grabbed your keys, preparing for the harsh weather, before stepping outside (albeit reluctantly). The rain hit your face harshly, the wind almost making breathing impossible, as you made your way quickly (or as quick as the wind would let your body move) down the sidewalk. You should have probably just called an Uber as you got to the corner of the street. But, then again, you had money to return to the shop. You halted on the corner, debating it but rejecting the idea. You were already soaking from being outside for a few minutes, so what were another... 20... to your apartment. It took you about ten seconds to go to Rafael’s apartment. You had only been dating for a couple months, but his place was, at most, ten minutes away from your shop, and you were freezing. You rushed down the sidewalk until you got to his building, standing underneath a roof; you quickly texted him with trembling fingers, asking if he could let you in, figuring he wouldn’t hear your voice on the intercom system due to the wind. The door buzzed open within seconds, which you were highly thankful for, and you made your way to the elevator, which you took to the top floor. Rafael answered the door after you knocked, still in his suit (confirming your suspicion that he had not stopped working even now; you were pretty surprised he was even home, as he was usually spending all his free time in his office). His eyes went wide immediately, taking in your wet form. “Hermosa, wha-” he cut himself off (something you didn’t know he was even capable of doing) as he opened the door wider for you to come in. “You’re soaking,” he said as he reached for the zipper of your hoodie. “Really? I hadn’t noticed,” you quipped back as you slapped his hands away, grabbing the zipper to try to pull it down, but you couldn’t quite do it with your trembling hands (which were a dangerously dark red). Rafael grabbed it again, slapping your hands away this time, pulling the zipper down and peeling the fabric off your skin as it stuck to you. “What were you thinking?” he looked down at you sternly, causing you to roll your eyes. “Calm down, I’m fine-” “You’re going to get ill,” he interrupted, taking your phone from you and placing it on the coffee table face down (which seemed to be his way of telling you I’m taking this because you are almost vibrating from how cold you are, not because I’m going to look through your phone, Hermosa). “you need a shower.” “I’m fine!” you argued, and Rafael looked at you with a deadpan look. You stared at each other for about ten seconds before you gave in, mumbling quickly, “Fine.” He walked you towards the bathroom as if you didn’t know where it was and opened the door for you. A quick “thank you” later, and you were peeling off the rest of your clothes before figuring out how to turn on the shower. After about a minute (which felt like an eternity, considering you were feeling hypothermic), you grabbed a towel before heading back out to find Rafael putting your hoodie in a washing basket. “Rafael?” he turned around at that, his eyebrows furrowing - he was cute when he was overly concerned. You suddenly became aware that you were naked and blushed heavily, “How- how do you, um, turn the... shower on?” Once he showed you and left the room, you basked in the water, feeling your previously numb fingers returning to life. You were highly aware of how long you were in the shower, not wanting to waste water or heat or anything. As well as the fact that you couldn’t stop thinking about how you were only one wall away from Rafael - totally naked. You took his (very expensive looking) shampoo and soap, cleaning yourself and your hair, before turning off the shower and leaving. Only then did you realise that you had no clothes - unless you would put on cold, wet ones. You wrapped the same towel around yourself before sheepishly entering the bathroom. Rafael smiled at you from his seat on his couch, his work abandoned on the dining table, his suit jacket on the back of one of the chairs and his tie looser than when he had answered the door, and a glass of scotch in one hand and the tv playing Netflix. “I don’t- um, I- I don’t have any... clothes,” you stuttered, looking down at your feet and fiddling with the towel. “You can borrow one of my shirts,” he said, as if it was the most casual thing ever, like you two always did this. he got up, pausing (in what looked like) the office (which you had convinced him to watch after it came to your knowledge that he had never watched it), and began to pull out a shirt from his drawer in his bedroom, handing it to you, which you thanked him for, still blushing from your current predicament. He went to leave before you spoke again. “I- I don’t have any-” you stopped talking, blushing too much before you could say ‘panties’. “You don’t mind wearing mine, would you? Because, you see, I don’t have any panties,” You blushed at his bluntness but shook your head to say, “No, I don’t mind. When, in actuality, you did mind, but only because the thought made you feel hot. Like everything else had once you had made your way into his apartment. You were naked. And, now, you were going to wear Rafael’s clothes. He left for you to get dressed; you shut the door, making sure it was locked, before you dropped the towel, pulling on his briefs and shirt. His shirt was white, and as you looked in the mirror, you realised that, yes, he could definitely see your nipples through the shirt. You buttoned three buttons before turning around and checking how much of your ass it covered. Thankfully, it fell to your mid-thigh, and even more, it smelt like him. You exited the bedroom, turning to close the door behind you softly to not disturb Rafael’s Netflix. What you didn’t see, with your back turned, was Rafael staring at you (specifically, your ass) and licking his lips. As you turned back around, you saw him sit forward and place his free hand (the one without scotch in it) on his knee - unbeknownst to you, he was trying to hide his growing member. You smiled at him, which he returned, and joined him on the couch, sitting about a foot away. You were right when you thought he was watching the office. He was currently watching Jim fax Dwight messages from future Dwight. You brought your legs up to your chest, sitting back on the couch. I watched as Jan told Michael that the branch was closing. “Would you like a drink, cariño?” he asked, making his way (very quickly, you noticed) behind the couch, as you watched the TV. You looked up at him, smiling, asking him for some coffee. He kissed you on the forehead, causing you to giggle, and then started on your coffee. But you swore as he turned around that he was... hard? Your eyes widened, and your cheeks grew hot as your head flew forward to stare at the TV. A smile grew on your face, and you tried to hide it multiple times, but you just couldn’t; it was... cute. Rafael was unbelievably cute right now - plus, his ears were pink, which made him look... well, adorable. You made sure he couldn’t see your face as you smiled widely, but you realised you were failing when he said; “What’s happening?” “What?” you turned to him, still smiling. “In Scranton,” he said, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world, which it was, but you weren’t focused on the TV. You were focused on what was going on behind the kitchen counter he was standing behind. “Oh, right, there,” you said, although you were sure you sounded teasing, which you must have because Rafael’s eyebrows furrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean, ángel?” he asked, coming back to join you on the couch, handing you the coffee. He sat closer to you than you had previously sat next to him, not that you minded - you wanted to sit on his lap, not next to him, but you’d settle for this. “Nothing,” you smirked as you glanced at him - his trousers were still tight. Your eyes went wide momentarily, but it was enough for Rafael to notice. “What?” “What?” you sipped your coffee, covering your smile as you looked at him. he narrowed his eyes at you before putting his arm around you, bringing you into his chest. He put the coffee on the table for you, looking down at you as you turned your head completely to look him in the eye. “You’re hiding something.” “Am I, counsellor?” You moved your legs over him, and he pulled you onto his lap, causing you to yelp and him to chuckle, burying his face in your neck, nipping and kissing at your skin. Your cheeks began to burn again as your smile and teasing attitude disappeared, replaced with whimpers and gripping onto the hem of your (or, rather, his) shirt. You did notice, however, that you weren’t exactly on his lap but on his legs. Which meant he thought you hadn’t noticed his... situation. “What are you hiding, cariño?” he began to kiss further down, kissing at your collarbone. You reached down to palm at his slacks, the office still playing in the background. You heard his breath hitch, and his head flew up to look you in the eye. “What are you hiding, counsellor?” you grinned at him, blinking through your lashes. His ears burned, as well as his cheeks, and he looked pretty shocked, too. However, he quickly recovered. He smirked at you, gripping your wrist, causing you to pout. His lips found yours, and you whimpered into his mouth, causing him to smirk again. “I’m not hiding a thing, cariño,” he said against your mouth, moving your hand back down to his bulge. He hummed against your mouth as you squeezed him lightly. His hand gripped your thigh, the other resting on your cheek as he deepened the kiss. You whined into his lips, putting your hand, not playing with his bulge, on top of the one on your thigh. “Please, Rafael,” you whimpered. His hand on your thigh began to creep up your leg, coming up to the waistband of your briefs before slipping inside. That was new. Sure, you had done things with Raf before, but he was always very... slow. He just wanted to ensure you were completely comfortable with what was happening, but now? Seeing you in his shirt? His fingers teased your entrance momentarily before he gathered your slick and began rubbing at your clit with steady circles. Your hand immediately gripped his wrist, your fingers not even managing to close around his arm. Your back arched, your tits pressed against him, and pathetic whines fell from your lips. His lips were attacking your neck and collarbone, marking you. “Oh, god,” you whimpered out, his fingers beginning to speed up, his other arm wrapped around your waist to keep you against him. Your fingers, the ones not around his arm, gripped his waistcoat. His rubbing sent impulses up and down your body, your vocal cords working on their own accord and your limbs twitching. “Please, oh, god,” his fingers and mouth were the only things you could focus on, and the rest of the world fell away. You were becoming incoherent with your words, that much you were aware of, as you mumbled out, ‘please’s and ‘fuck’s. You were pretty amazed you had stayed coherent for that long, considering that you were usually a mumbling mess of a woman who couldn’t make eye contact or stop blushing when he touched any part of your skin. You brought his face up from your neck, wanting to kiss his scotch-flavoured lips. The passionate kiss did not stop you from whimpering against him or prevent you from moving his hand away from your clit and towards your entrance. "estás tan necesitado, ¿no es así, cariño?" his tone was teasing, though you had no idea what he was saying. You moaned as his fingers edged around your entrance, and you dropped your head into his neck to hide the growing blush, your eyes fluttering shut. Your hips bucked as best they could in the position you were in. You whined when he took his fingers away from you; however, after he had moved you onto his lap (and, therefore, on top of his hard-on), his fingers continued their previous actions. He sunk one finger into your heat, causing your hold on his vest to tighten and your other to clench as you lifted it, trying to decide what to do. Your legs fell wider as Rafael curled his fingers into your sweet spot (and, of course, he knew exactly where that was, despite only having done this a couple of times). “Please, Rafael,” your voice was heavily muffled by the fact that you were pressing your face against his neck. Still, he must have heard you because he added another finger into you, rubbing against your sweet spot with two fingers whilst his palm ground against your clit. “please, papi,” you mumbled out, causing Rafael to stutter in his pleasing ministrations and his cock to twitch. You immediately seized up, your eyes flying open against his neck. However, Rafael’s fingers continued without hesitation, his other hand moving to your ass and squeezing it, pulling you more towards him. He hummed against the side of your head. “Papi, cariño?” your cheeks flushed, the embarrassment of the situation catching up on you. Your hold on his vest tightened, and you were sure you were seconds away from tearing it. You whimpered against his skin, the humiliation only contributing to your impending orgasm. Rafael smirked down at you, loving how you looked, squirming and whimpering on his lap. he loved that you were shy. You were adorable when you were blushing and stumbling over your words whilst you looked everywhere but him. When you called him Papa? he almost groaned aloud. He could feel you pulsing around his fingers, your legs spasming and back arching. Taking his hand away from your ass (and slightly lifting one of his legs to not make you fall), he unbuttoned your shirt, kneading one of your breasts. Your whimpers turned into moans, gradually increasing in volume and frequency. “That’s it, Hermosa, cum on papi’s fingers."

[starsfic]

Finding Frankie AU where an urban explorer named Ed finds himself one of the contestants in Frankie's Parkour Palace, and a mysterious entity seems to have infiltrated the studio's computer system with the apparent goal of keeping Ed as safe as it can. No one seems to know who or what this entity is, but its meddling acts always seem to be heralded by a short jingle: G F-G-F E.

The Contestant came to a screeching stop as another door slammed in their face, cutting them off from their prey. Without a care for the cameras, they pressed the Bluetooth in their ear.

"Frankie, what the hell is going on?!"

"I, uh, I'm not quite sure, my dear!" Their cohort sounded frazzled, paired with the sound of keys typing. "But he's heading to Deputy Duck's section, so-"

The next second, a loud jingle played over the intercoms, loud enough that the Contestant had to cut the connection. It wasn't fast enough. The piano keys of GFGFE made their ears ring enough that they took a step back.

Ever since Contestant 2, named Ed apparently, had come onto the show, it was like everything had fallen apart. Something had infiltrated the parkour palace's entire system, and it was dedicated to keeping this guy safe as he ran around the place. Morgan could respect the attempted cheating, but the infuriating part was that Ed seemed as baffled as they were about the entire thing and was more dedicated to finding a way out.

They were not going to lose to this idiot.

The Bluetooth reconnected.

"My dear? There's a raccoon."

"Mark its location, I'll get it later," they huffed, turning and marching towards the nearest vent. It wouldn't be the first time some pest had broken in. "Where is-"

"I mean," Frankie said, voice getting just a bit higher. "The raccoon is the one in the system."

The Contestant paused. "What?"

"HI!"

The yell made them drop the vent cover, whirling around. Next to them was one of the screens showing the chat responding to the show. Last they looked, it was full of confused anons, both enjoying the twist to the show and getting really annoyed at how it was dragging on. Now, it was blank, all except for a purple raccoon in a red bandana, smiling placidly at them like the greeter at an amusement park.

"...hi?"

"I don't like you." The raccoon said it so sweetly that the Contestant wasn't sure how to react. "If you hurt my friend, you won't like what me and my friends will do to you."

And with that ominous message, the raccoon disappeared. The chat screen remained blank and empty.

Over the intercoms, the jingle played, followed by what sounded like a scream of frustration from Frankie.

The Contestant had no time to react to that. They opened up the vent and slipped in, feeling the weight of the hunting knife on their side.

They had a show to win and a loser to deal with.

[societyfolklore]

Loki’s Eggcellent Equinox Endeavour

Title: Loki’s Eggcellent Equinox Endeavour

Summary: Following his disastrously misunderstood Christmas gift-giving attempt, Loki turns his attention to Midgard's next major holiday: Easter. But after a deep dive into both modern customs and ancient pagan fertility rites, he becomes determined to outdo himself in a chaotic blend of Ostara rituals and misguided goodwill. The Avengers are not prepared.

Word Count:  1.5k

Warnings:  Silliness! Fluff nonsense- humour… (Well not funny funny.. just..this is a silly post)   No beta read, and not supper thought out either… just.. yeah..

A/N: This is following up on my Gift Giving Guide post at Christmas… Which in itself was not an original idea but inspired by a post made @mycroftrh. I’ve been sick all week and this is what came out of my slightly congested fever addled brain…

Avengers Tower – Somewhere Deep in the Library, Days Before Easter

Loki furrowed his brow, flipping through yet another ancient tome he had ‘borrowed’ from the British Museum’s closed archives. He was surrounded by glowing floating orbs of light, piles of texts, several scrolls, a terrarium of mossy rune stones, incense curling like smoke from a levitating censer, and a half-eaten chocolate bunny he'd taken apart with a ritual dagger for ‘examination.’  The air smelled faintly of lilac, steel, and mischief.

“Easter,” he muttered under his breath, “a rabbit deity of springtime... eggs imbued with life essence... pastel-coloured sacrifices... how quaint.” He rolled his eyes skyward as though appealing to higher intellects for mercy. “And humans revere this ritual with sugar and synthetic grass?”

He tapped his fingers against his chin, golden rings glinting in the light. In a swirl of green magic, he conjured a minor vision spell, images forming and hovering midair- cloaked druids welcoming dawn with chant and fire; baskets brimming with woven spells; children chasing eggs across flowering meadows. One image showed a Midgardian shopping mall with a man in a bunny suit posing for photos. Loki physically recoiled.

“This cannot be what remains of divine celebration.”

He muttered again in Old Norse, his voice echoing with power. The visions shifted to show ancient rites- women weaving wildflower crowns, couples dancing around towering poles of woven ivy, moonlit fertility feasts, and hares darting through sacred glades.

“But it’s not Easter, is it?” he murmured, voice turning thoughtful. He picked up a thick, leather-bound grimoire on Seasonal Rites and Fertility Cults of the Northern Tribes. The cover smelled of damp earth and old magic. “It’s Ostara. The spring equinox. The sacred celebration of Eostre- goddess of renewal, fertility, and woodland passions. The hare, her sacred beast. The egg, a vessel of returning life. Mortals remember so little of the truth.”

His smirk curved, slow and satisfied. He flipped through the pages, pausing on a diagram of a ritual involving gilded eggs and moonstone-infused offerings.

“Yes. Now that makes sense. At least someone on this backwards realm maintained a sliver of cultural dignity. Perhaps even a spark of instinct. A shame it’s buried beneath synthetic sugar shells and plastic grass.”

He stood, trailing one hand along the spines of the books, eyes gleaming with purpose and delight. As he passed a floating orb, it morphed into a map of Avengers Tower, glowing softly. “They want eggs? I shall give them eggs. They want rabbits? I shall give them a herald of the goddess herself. They want rebirth?”

He gave a low, dangerous chuckle, already summoning the first strands of enchantment with a flick of his fingers. A rabbit the size of a cat blinked into existence on the windowsill, its ears perked attentively.

“Let them be reborn... in delirious, chaotic wonder.”

Avengers Tower – Easter Morning

The screaming started just before dawn.

“WHY IS THERE A GIANT RABBIT IN THE GYM?!” Tony’s voice tore through the intercom system, the sound of something crashing and skittering echoing behind him.

“Correction,” Bruce called back calmly from another floor. “There are now thirty-two. And rising. But they are shrinking in size though..”

It had begun as a trickle. One or two glowing, eerily calm hares appearing in strange places. Then it escalated. Rapidly.

By the time the sun rose, the Tower was under siege by rabbits.

They were everywhere. In closets. In the vents. Sitting perfectly still on countertops, judging silently with unblinking eyes and faintly glowing fur. One particularly bold bunny had claimed Tony’s suit-up platform and refused to yield, even when threatened with an arc reactor blast.

Everywhere they went, they left gifts behind: small, shiny chocolate eggs scattered like arcane breadcrumbs. But these were not ordinary sweets. Each was infused with a unique spell- Loki’s own blend of mischief, meaning, and just a dash of spite. Some sang lullabies in foreign tongues. Some whispered secrets from other timelines. Some made whoever ate them speak in rhyming couplets for an hour. One made Steve temporarily see time sideways. Another turned Sam’s wings bright neon pink until he crash-landed into the kitchen.

Clint opened a cabinet and was greeted by four rabbits in tiny, rune-etched bonnets who immediately began chanting in a dead language. He closed the cabinet and walked away.

Natasha found an egg in her boot. It warmed against her skin, thrummed like a heartbeat, and then- when she threw it out the window- exploded into a cloud of lavender mist that lingered ominously for hours.

Clint then ended up following a trail of glittering eggs to a linen closet, stepped into what turned out to be a spatial loop. He entered six times before realizing he was stuck in a teleportation snare created by a particularly malevolent peppermint truffle. When he finally emerged, his watch was ticking backwards.

Bucky picked up an egg and sniffed it. “This better not be like the mead incident,” he muttered. The egg burst into sparks, and his hair turned a soft, shimmery teal. No one commented. They valued their lives.

By mid-morning, Sam was shouting from the ceiling rafters. “I JUST WANTED CEREAL!” he howled as two hares launched themselves from a cupboard like tiny, fuzzy missiles. “I WILL NEVER MOCK PAGAN RITUALS AGAIN!”

Tony tried to take control by ordering JARVIS to purge all foreign magical signatures. The system crashed within five seconds.

Even Vision, attempting to understand the rabbits, was last seen seated in the common room with a clipboard, three eggs in his lap, and a half-formed theory about “chaotic fertility deities and emotional transference.”

In the kitchen, a rabbit sat solemnly on top of the fridge, its paws crossed like a tiny monk. Whenever anyone approached, it hissed like a boiling kettle.

By the time noon arrived, the Tower had become a pastel warzone: a strange purgatory of chocolate, spells, and judgmental lagomorphs. And still, more rabbits came.

Thor found Loki in the greenhouse, perched serenely among over a dozen lounging rabbits, sipping herbal tea like a smug woodland prince. Ivy curled lazily up the trellises behind him, and faint choral humming emanated from an egg-shaped lantern nearby. A hare wearing a tiny crown of daisies hopped into Loki’s lap, and he scratched it behind the ears like a king dispensing favour to a loyal courtier.

“Brother,” Thor began, tone already exhausted as he stepped through a cluster of sun-dappled foliage. “You’ve unleashed a plague of enchanted rodents upon our home.”

“They are sacred messengers,” Loki replied smoothly, stroking the rabbit with fur like starlight. “Each one carries a blessing. Or a mild hex. The line between the two is rather artistic.”

“One of them hexed the elevator,” Thor deadpanned. “It now only moves when spoken to in limericks.”

“An improvement,” Loki mused. “Encourages poetic expression. I’ve long said Stark lacked verse.”

“You also hid three dozen spell-laced chocolates in the ventilation system,” Thor continued, stepping over yet another lounging rabbit, which blinked up at him with golden eyes.

“I may have over-committed to the symbolism,” Loki admitted, not remotely remorseful. “But the symbolism, brother! Ostara’s essence flows through all things: air, fur, cocoa. Would you have me squander the opportunity for divine resonance?”

“Someone’s coat rack came to life and is currently waging war against the Roomba,” Thor said flatly.

“Ah. The one in the north hallway?” Loki asked brightly. “That was one of my better enchantments.”

Thor gestured broadly, looking like he’d aged a decade in a single day. “You call this restraint?”

Loki only smiled, radiant with misplaced pride. “Come now, brother. This is subtle by Asgardian standards. Why, I’ve not even summoned a fertility fog. I think I’ve grown.”

By late afternoon, the team had rounded up most of the rabbits- though a few remained unaccounted for and were assumed to have formed a colony in the sub-basement, possibly developing a primitive society. Bruce had started tracking their movement patterns on a whiteboard and labelled the warren 'Bunholm'. No one asked him to.

Tony created a ‘Magically Problematic’ shelf in the lab for the leftover eggs, complete with biometric locks and a laminated warning sign that simply read: Don’t Touch the Chocolate. One egg had already turned his lab coat into a sentient garment that flinched whenever Steve got too close.

Steve, still speaking in Elizabethan verse thanks to a particularly stubborn caramel core hex, stood before the team in the common room and launched into an impassioned monologue about valor, rabbits, and the strength of camaraderie. The others applauded out of both pity and fear he might try it again.

Natasha was last seen slipping one of the eggs into a lead-lined safe with no label.

Even Clint, who had spent the morning arguing with a particularly aggressive hare in the laundry room, muttered something about 'kinda festive' before disappearing into the vents again.

Loki, watching the chaos unfold from a high balcony with a glass of mead and a smug tilt to his mouth, let out a contented sigh. He was draped in ivy and basking in the golden light of dusk like some triumphant fae monarch surveying his pastel kingdom.

This time, he thought, they almost appreciated it. There had been no screaming threats of exile, no immediate portal banishments, not even a direct punch to the face.

...Almost.

A/N:.... This is so ridiculous... I am sorry

[sunflowersatori]

kiss it better - pt. 2

sukuna x nurse!reader

contents: modern au, f!reader, sukuna is just a guy™️, it's your weekend off but ofc he's gonna bother you, some swearing, innuendos

word count: 2.5K

a/n: people seemed to like the first one so here's part two (which was supposed to be about the same length but I definitely let get away from me), i know i made him ooc at the end there but i really just wanted him to be so whipped its not even funny ((also i apologize for the un-aestheticness of my posts i will try harder in the future 💀))

//

You were laying on the couch relaxing when your phone began to ring, the number for your building's intercom system on the screen. It was odd, you weren’t expecting any company until later today, but you shrugged it off and picked up anyway. Maybe it was a package you had forgotten about.

You should have known better. 

“Hello?”

“Hey sweetheart.”

You immediately frowned as Sukuna’s voice came through the speaker, “What do you want?”

“Well I found myself in need of a little TLC and I was nearby, so…think you can patch me up?”

“Why me??” You rubbed your temples to quell the headache you knew was coming, “Can’t you go bother some other nurse?”

“Aww but you’re my favourite.”

There weren’t many options. You knew that if you hung up now he’d just call his twin brother to be let in and still come bother you. Yuji lived a few floors below you with his boyfriend Megumi, coincidentally another nurse. You’d run into Sukuna coming to visit when you were arriving home from a day shift, which unfortunately meant he’d found out where you lived.

You let out a deep sigh, “Fine.”

His reply was cut off by you buzzing him in, effectively dropping the call.

Soon enough there was a knock on the door, and you went over to open it, letting Sukuna smugly saunter into your apartment.

“You do know it’s my weekend off right?”

“Why do you think I’m here and not at the clinic?” he asked, eyes flashing knowingly.

You knew that he knew. Your coworker had texted you last night telling you that the “big sexy broody man with the tattoos” had come in asking for you, and she’d told him you had the weekend off from work. This also meant that he had gotten in a fight last night, and this morning.

“Is it like a sexual thing? Are you a masochist or something?” You wondered aloud as you went over to grab your first aid kit.

You could nearly hear the smirk in Sukuna’s voice when he replied, “I’m not, but if you’re asking after my sexual preferences I’d be happy to give you a few demonstrations.”

“Stop that. I’m just trying to figure out why you’re willingly going out and getting beaten up like every night,” You said, and brought your supplies over to the kitchen counter.

“That’s hurtful,” he came over to lean against the counter next to you, “you think I’m not winning all these fights?”

“Need I remind you that just a month ago I was relocating your shoulder?”

“Just took a hit at the wrong angle sweetheart, besides, like I told you back then, the other guy looked worse than me.”

You shook your head, “Just show me where you’re hurt so I can kick you out and go back to relaxing.”

Sukuna held out his hands for you, which you could see had blood on them - not a rare occurrence - and a few knuckles looked to be split.

“I told you I needed some TLC, so where’s that tender loving?” he crooned with a grin.

You took his hands and examined them, “Right now you’re lucky that I’m even giving you care.”

The injuries were surface level, so you didn’t have to worry about setting any breaks or sprains, and just got straight to cleaning him up.

“So, what does such a pretty nurse do on her weekend off?”

“I have some friends coming over later. We’re all going to get ready and go out to a bar,” you replied as you carefully wiped the dried blood off his hands.

“You don’t sound very excited. Need me to come along and make things more fun for you?”

You could practically hear the leer in his voice, but you chose to ignore it.

“No,” you frowned,” I’m excited…I am. I’m just tired, and going out isn’t really my thing…but we haven’t gone out together in a while because I’m always on night shift, and they really wanted to go…”

Sukuna was staring at you when you looked up at him. You couldn’t pin the expression on his face, but the scrutiny made you blush a bit so you quickly looked back down to his hands. Normally it would have taken a lot less time for you to bandage his injured knuckles, but you needed to make sure that when you were done you didn’t still have a blush on your face.

If he noticed that you were a bit slow today, he either didn’t care or didn’t comment. Knowing Sukuna, it very well could have been both. The man was probably enjoying the extra attention.

“You’re all done,” you said, stepping back once everything was clean and wrapped.

He stood, taking a look at the work and giving you a lazy grin.

“What a good job, see this is why you’re my favourite.”

He suddenly stepped closer, trapping you against the opposite counter. As had become the norm since he’d dislocated his shoulder, he gently took your chin and tilted it up so you were looking at him and leaned in close.

“Thanks sweetheart.”

It still made your heart race every time he did it, but you tried your hardest to compose yourself and slipped out of his reach.

“Alright, alright, now go,” you started pushing him toward the door, “I have a hot date with a couch in about two minutes.”

“Any chance I could get in on that?”

You closed the door in his face, but you could still hear him laughing as he walked away from your apartment.

As you threw yourself on the couch you noticed how warm you felt, and you couldn’t help but think about how nice that broad chest of his would be to lay against.

You groaned and shoved your face into a pillow.

Hours later, you’d luckily shaken off your flustered thoughts, but sadly for you, your mind had other things to worry about.

You clenched a glass of water in your hand as you looked out at the crowd, knowing your friends were somewhere on the dance floor. The outing had been fine at first, but now you were too hot and it was too loud, and there were too many people around.

You needed some space.

There was a small porch in front of the bar, so you decided to step out onto it, hoping the cool night air would do you some good.

Just as you had taken a calming breath, a body slammed into yours and you lost your balance, causing you to tumble to the sidewalk hard. 

You were vaguely aware of two men fighting right next to you, but your brain was still more concerned about the initial sting of hitting concrete.

“Hey knock it off!” You heard a familiar voice shout, bringing things back into focus.

“Can’t you see there’s other people around that might get caught in your shit?! Look what you did to this girl.”

When you looked up, it was to see Sukuna standing between you and the two guys fighting, who had paused to size him up.

“Why the fuck do you think we care?”

Sukuna's only reply was a solid punch to the man’s jaw. The guy went flying to the ground, and the other one figured it was probably best for his health if he left, so he made himself scarce.

“Hey,” you heard Sukuna’s voice, much softer this time.

You looked back over to find him crouching next to you, a hint of concern in his eyes.

“You okay?”

You nodded, and winced when you tried to shakily stand. Your knee was skinned, and some bits of rock and gravel had dug into your palm and forearm, but other than that you were alright. Nevertheless, Sukuna took your good arm and pulled you up.

“Want me to take you home?”

You nodded and he led you to his car. You managed to remember that you should probably let your friends know where you went, so you sent a text telling them you weren’t feeling well and that you were heading back to your apartment. 

Sukuna was quiet on the drive, hands clenching and unclenching on the steering wheel and occasionally glancing over at you. Something was bothering him, that much you could tell, but what it was, you weren’t sure. It didn’t take long to get back to your building, and then Sukuna was walking you up to your unit, keeping a hand close to your back to support you if you needed it.

You turned to him once you reached your door, “Thanks for getting me home, and helping me back there.”

“It was nothing sweetheart, I’m glad nothing else happened.”

“Yeah, anyway I should..probably..” you motioned to your door and moved to push it open.

“You’re not gonna let me come in?”

You froze, “What, why?”

“Because you’re hurt,” he said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

You gave him a dry look, “I am a nurse you know, I think I can take care of myself.” 

“But you shouldn’t have to.” 

His words caught you off guard. The sincerity, and the way he shoved his hands in his pockets and looked the slightest bit embarrassed.

“You’re always taking care of people…let someone take care of you this time.”

You couldn’t help but stand there in silence for a moment, weighing his words, but something tugged at your heart, and you pushed the door wider so he could come in too.

“Okay. You can come in…I’m just gonna shower first, and wash up. I’ll be out soon,” you said, and headed off to your bathroom. 

You let the hot water sink into your skin as you thought about what Sukuna had said, wondering what it was he was thinking. Once you were out and changed into more comfortable clothes you returned to the kitchen. Sukuna was rummaging around the cabinets and mumbling soft curses, somehow having managed to change into sweats and a t-shirt. 

“First aid kit is top left…where did you get those clothes?”

“I ran down to Yuji’s while you were in the shower,” he said over his shoulder, “Being a twin has its perks.”

He found the first aid kit and pulled it down, turning to give you a smirk.

“Come sit sweetheart,” he patted the counter in front of him.

You padded over and pushed yourself up to sit on the counter and face him. He seemed to be digging through the contents of your first aid kit.

“Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

He shook his head and tsked at you, “I bring you home and offer to take care of you and this is how you thank me? I’ve been watching you do this for a while now, I think I have some idea of what to do.”  

After pulling out what he needed, he took the arm with the scrapes on it and wiped it, being careful not to press too hard. He wrapped it in gauze, which wasn’t totally necessary as the scrapes weren’t too serious, but you simply let him continue without a word otherwise.

He cleaned the gash on your knee as well, this time picking out a bandaid and gently smoothing it over the spot.

“Almost done,” He said, getting down on his knees in front of you. He was tenderly holding your leg. Ankle in one hand and calf in the other.

“What are you doing?”

“Proving a point” he said softly, and leaned in to press his lips against the bandaid on your knee.

“Maybe you should kiss it better.”

“Why would I do that?”

“A kiss always makes it feel better.”

He looked up at you, “Better?”

You nodded and he rose, standing between your legs and leaning into your space with his hands on either side of you.

“Does it hurt anywhere else?”

His voice was low and gentle, and he was looking at you like you were the most precious thing in the world.

You took a deep breath and pointed to your face. 

Then you were being kissed, soft and sweet, and Sukuna’s hands were cupping your face as if you might break into a thousand pieces if he laid one finger wrong.

Your hands gripped his shirt, tugging him closer and he obliged. His hands slid from your face and down your back until he had them under your thighs and he was tugging you closer. 

“Hold onto me,” he whispered against your lips, and after you wrapped your arms around his neck he picked you up easily and walked over to your couch. 

You leaned into another kiss, letting him sit down on the couch with you in his lap as you gently threaded your hands in his hair. He kept you close, kissing you tenderly until you were both out of breath and had to pull away.

Neither of you went far, not wanting to let the moment die by putting distance between you.

“So…” he murmured after a moment, “you gonna kick me out sweetheart?” His hands were on your waist, thumbs lightly stroking your ribs.

You shook your head as you traced your fingers over his cheekbones, then followed his tattoos down the line of his jaw and to where they were just barely peeking out from the neckline of his shirt. Your eyes blinked slowly, and you began to realize how tired you were.

“Hey,” Sukuna took your chin in his hand and tilted your face to look at him, “you falling asleep on me?”

“No,” you pouted, but of course your body decided that that was the perfect time to yawn.

Sukuna snorted, “Sure. C’mon, it’s bedtime.”

He easily lifted you again, and after prompting you for directions he managed to get you to your bedroom and tuck you in.

“Alright sweetheart, I’ll be on the couch if you need me,” he said, brushing your hair away from your forehead so he could place a kiss there.

Before he could move away your hand reached out and grasped his shirt.

“Stay here.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to-”

“Noo…don’t go…” You whined and tugged his shirt more, interrupting him.

He sighed and took your hand, pressing a kiss to your palm, “Okay sweetheart, okay. Just let me shower real quick and then I’ll come back, promise.”

You nodded, and he tucked you back in before going off to shower. Even though you were teetering on the edge of sleep, you desperately wanted to stay awake long enough for him to come back.

A few minutes later, he was walking back into the bedroom, turning off the light as he did. He came around to the opposite side of the bed, and you felt it dipping behind you as he got in. A strong, tattooed arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you back against his chest.

Sukuna sighed as you settled in, “You have no idea the things I’d do for you, do you sweetheart?”

He was stroking your cheek, but you were already asleep in his arms, so he simply pressed a kiss to your head, and settled in to sleep himself.