#I hate that I can’t get my gifs to the Quality of some of the ones I see on here but oh well

[yurinaa-world]

May i request love and deepspace boys with clingy!reader? Shes shy too!! In public, she'll hold onto his hand or finger and stays quiet but at home she becomes a yapper machine and also likes to plop onto his lap as she talks. Sometimes likes mindlessly squeezing and playing with his meaty bicep too :3

"𝒴𝑜𝓊 𝓉𝒶𝓁𝓀 𝓆𝓊𝒾𝓉𝑒 𝒶 𝓁𝑜𝓉"

💫𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓈: Rafayel, Zayne, Xavier, & Sylus x Gender-Neutral reader

💫𝒮𝓎𝓃𝑜𝓅𝓈𝒾𝓈: with a reader who's clingy at home and mindlessly touches him

💫𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: Fluff, & Spelling Mistakes

💫𝒩𝑜𝓉𝑒𝓈: I got sickkk 😫 this isn't my usual quality...I'm sorry (it had to be when it's my first post with the 4 lnds guys...Give me another chance!)

💫𝑅𝒶𝒻𝒶𝓎𝑒𝓁 "𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒜𝒷𝓎𝓈𝓈𝓌𝒶𝓁𝓀𝑒𝓇"

He eats it up, watching you act shy in public, grabbing the piece of his shirt or finger whenever you're in public. The second you feel like you're in a comfortable space he watches you unwind, holding onto him so tightly that he’ll just tease you. 

Your pretty self not wanting to let go of him, not even for a glass of water, straddling his lap, and arms wrapped around his neck, hiding in his neck. You're just begging him to tease you so badly. Yet his jaw just drops whenever you unconsciously touch him more. 

While you’re talking about your day, your hands unconsciously go to his chest. aren’t you so handsy? He stops in the middle of your sentence, teasing you so much even bringing up the other times you act shameless with him. 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

After such a long day, you can’t help but unload everything you had been feeling the entire day, just going on and on while he puts on his irrelevant commentary—letting gasps and hums, you play with the buttons on his shirt before taking your hands away from his buttons, gently caress his chest while you talk about the climax of your entire day.

“You should have seen her, she was completely soaked and the owner didn’t even say anything even though it was his fault that it happened in the first place!” you chirped—your eyes shining so bright there might be little stars in them—leaning into his face to emphasize your point, he just gasps as if he were there experiencing it. “Oh wow…” he smiles back at you—it looked more like a sly lazy grin plastered on his lips.

“Yeah! And then…”

There you go again switching through topics so fast that he might just start taking notes to understand what you’re talking about. But feel his grin get wider, while your hands shamelessly touch his chest like a creep on the streets.

“If you’re going to shamelessly touch me, at least own up instead of pretending to tell a story.” He grins, snapping you out of your story with an accusation of your character. Your eyes go wide feeling embarrassment pool into your stomach, resulting in your cheeks becoming rosy red as your hands spring back.

“I didn’t mean to touch you like.” you stutter as if he were a cop, while he just enjoys watching you freak out. “You’re such a terrible liar, you’re always touching me, taking advantage of me just because I let you do it once” he sighs dramatically, pinching, and pulling your cheek as if he were an adult lecturing a child—in reality he would be the child…“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Don’t bother, I already know the truth.”

💫𝒵𝒶𝓎𝓃𝑒 "𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝐹𝑜𝓇𝑒𝓈𝑒𝑒𝓇"

He lets you unwind, it’s good for a person to relax after a long day, and you it’s no different—maybe a bit more affection from him while he lets you grasp onto his arms.

Arms wrapped around his one arm while you talk about your day, with a large smile on your face, your body basically sinking into the side of his. He finds it amusing the way you act but what does he expect? You’ve always been like that; it's not like he hates it, he loves it.

He even lets you play with his tie, slowly untying it and fiddling with it as if we’re some kind of toy.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“I didn’t tell you about the craziest thing that happened today.” You realized, switching through topics so fast that he has to put his entire mind onto what you tell him, which he doesn’t mind, he’ll always listen to whatever you have to say. 

Your body against his, sinking into his side with your fingers fiddling with the tie as if it were a toy.

His eyes are loving to them while he listens to your voice with such attentiveness as if he were still taking a midterm exam back while he was a medical student. Just going on and on, telling every part of the story, before stopping to think of another story in the past. “Remember when we were kids!…” there you go again.

He’ll always find it adorable, a small plastered upon his gentle face from your hold speaks for itself.

 “Do you remember that?” 

“Pretty well, I remember another embarrassing thing you used to do, always holding and touching…seems that nothing changed,” he smiles at you, his hand going to withdraw your hand that was fiddled with a tie, his thumb gently rubbing your knuckles.

“Your touch still feels more like a medical exam,” he gently teased you, seeing your mouth agape made him love you more.

“Not that I dislike the feeling, I can’t go a day without it.” He reassures, bringing your hand to his heart, making you feel where his heart is.

“You can Continue speaking, I won’t stop you.”

💫𝒳𝒶𝓋𝒾𝑒𝓇 "𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝐻𝓊𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓇 𝒪𝒻 𝐿𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉"

He just loves to listen to your voice, whether it be a childish story about what happened that day or a drama your friend/coworker told you.

Now it’s no different even if he’s dozing off, his head flinching awake while you straddle his lap. It's fine! He’s not tired! You should keep on talking!

Through his half-lidded eyes looking back at you. Your touches might be the thing that brings him towards the border of going to sleep and staying awake, how dangerous you are.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“And then she left her boyfriend for her boss,” you gushed, leaning into his face to exaggerate the story more while he looked back at you with his tired gaze, “can you believe it, Xavier? And you know what her boyfriend did!” you exclaimed, he can’t help but let out a yawn.

“What did he do?” he asked sluggishly, his arms snaking their way up your waist, he might just be going in and out of sleep, every time he slowly closed his eyes and opens to jump in between different stories or different parts of one long story, yet he couldn’t fall asleep, feeling your hands move around his body.

“Xavier, are you awake?” 

You gently poke his cheek, while he just softly groans before he pushes you into his neck, taking the chance to hide himself in the crook of your neck. 

“You can keep talking…”

💫𝒮𝓎𝓁𝓊𝓈 "𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝐻𝑒𝒶𝒹 𝒪𝒻 𝒪𝓃𝓎𝒸𝒽𝒾𝓃𝓊𝓈"

He’s very “attentive” to your little story about what happened in Linkon that day, with his eyes softly staring at you with that signature smirk. 

You have quite the hands, don’t you? He would think you were robbing him blind with your touches. Just feeling your arms on his bicep, his bicep right against your chest, even if he pulls slightly away, you just pull him back.

He can’t help himself but stare at you like, to the point you notice and stop your story under his gaze.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

“So that’s what happened…” he hums, listening to your little stories, grasping tightly on his arm while you laugh at your own story, and the way your lips grin ear to ear. 

“Pity I wasn’t there to see that.” He murmured—the little voice in the back of your head tells that it’s probably not the story he's focused on, cocking his head to the side, watching you go off onto another rant. only for you to cut your story short when you locked eyes with him for too long.

“He…”

“Something wrong?” He tilts his eyebrow with a subtle smirk on his lips, watching your lips pressed together in nervousness. “Well…” you mutter, while he just laughs at your expression. 

“Go on, keep on talking, I'd rather not miss what you were telling me, keep grabbing my arm like that as well.”

if you liked this, consider tipping me on ko-fi! it'd mean a lot!

[cordiallyfuturedwight]

╰ now streaming: D-Day (2023) by Agust D 🎧

cr. vids: 0613data; templates: @/wilmontouch

[polyamorouspunk]

I hope I'm like you when I grow up

[marvelouslizzie]

Pretty Little Thing - co-written with @notafunkiller

Summary: Your long-time crush, Bucky Barnes, is a regular at the bar where you work, and tonight, it's impossible to avoid serving him for the first time.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: +18, alcohol, oral sex (f receiving), rough sex, unprotected sex, dirty talk, pet names, no mention of y/n

Word Count: 3.8K

A/N: @notafunkiller and I merged our separate ideas into one and this is the outcome. It was so much fun to write. We hope it'll me the same while reading too.

All work is ours, please do not repost or translate without our permission.

Every like, comment, and reblog is highly appreciated. Don’t hesitate to message us. Unless it’s hate. That’s never welcome.

You thought this night would be calm and easy, that nothing significant would happen. All that changed when Bucky Barnes set foot in the bar. It’s not his first time here by any means, but until now you successfully managed to avoid him by asking the other bartender to serve his side. This time, unfortunately, you are working alone. It’s a slow night, so there’s no way you can really avoid him.

You watch him find an empty place and sit down, and you really don’t know what to do. You can feel yourself sweating already. You are so nervous. Not because you are afraid of him or anything. He doesn’t look scary. Not to you. You are afraid to embarrass yourself in front of him, but you should be able to ask for his order and serve it without messing it up. That’s not so hard. 

Just keep it simple, you tell yourself.

“Hey, what can I get you?”

Bucky looks up from his phone straight into your eyes, and you freeze a little.

“Hello, do you... a draft beer, please.”

His answer confuses you. That’s not his usual order. 

“You sure you don’t want something stronger? We have that bourbon.” You curse yourself internally for paying attention and not being able to hold your tongue.

He raises his eyebrow surprised. “How do you know that? There is no way you served me any drinks cause I would remember you.”

He frowns as soon as he finishes speaking. Maybe you helped your colleague or maybe you were informed about what he drinks just in case he showed up. He’s still the Winter Soldier after all.

“I never served you before.” You say with a shy smile. You hope this is enough of an answer for him.

“Do I look like a bourbon man?” He asks playfully before giving you a smile that transforms his face a little, softening his features. 

“You look like you enjoy quality stuff, and between you and me, our draft beer is shitty.”

That comment makes him chuckle. You’re so distracted by his face that you don’t notice how his eyes fall straight to your breasts.

“Thanks for the tip. Normal beer then?”

“If you insist.” You smile and open the small fridge under the bar where you keep some of the beers. You quickly open it and put it right in front of him, not realizing that gesture shows off your bartender skills a little bit.

He doesn’t look away from you as he takes a big sip before placing the bottle on the table quickly.

“For how long have you been working here?”

“For the past year.” You avoid making eye contact while drying some of the freshly washed glasses.

“Oh.” He sounds kind of taken aback. “I’m surprised you never served me. I’ve been coming here for what? Seven months?”

“Eight.” You bite your bottom lip as soon as the word slips out, trying to shut yourself up so you won’t mess up even more. What were you thinking? Well, you weren't…

His eyes immediately glow, and you wonder if you fucked up for good.

“So you’ve been keeping an eye on me?” He brings the bottle to his mouth and before you can say anything, you watch him finishing it in one go.

“I just noticed you.” Of course, you kept an eye on him, but you played it down a little.

“Well, I didn’t notice you,” he says regretfully. “And I wonder how. I am pretty aware of my surroundings... especially if they are full of beautiful people like you.”

You can’t help but blush, yet you try to sound unaffected. You don’t know if you succeed or not, though.

“This place is usually so crowded and full of… people. So it’s normal.”

“Neah,” he denies immediately. “Have you been hiding or something?”

“I was just on the other side of the bar.” And you were trying to hide from him, saving yourself from this embarrassment because you knew if you talked to him you would fuck up. You were right.

“So I was on the wrong side this whole time.” He shakes his head. “Another beer, please, doll.”

“The same?” You ask while trying not to dwell on the pet name he uses.

“Yes, please. And one drink for you. Whatever you want, if you are allowed to drink, of course.”

The way he offers to buy you a drink surprises you. You feel quite nervous, but you try to maintain your calm. He’s probably just being nice, right? 

“I am allowed to drink, but that’s not necessary.”

He pouts. “I didn’t mean you need to talk to me for it, doll. There are no conditions for this drink.”

“Oh.” You didn’t even think he would take it this way. “That’s not why I said it’s not necessary. I wasn’t worried about that.”

“Okay. Whatever you want... I won’t insist.”

“It’s just… I am allowed to drink whatever I want. You don’t need to pay for it.” You try to explain so he won’t take it the wrong way.

“Alright,” he says, a little distant, as you open up another bottle of beer and put it in front of him. 

“I just didn’t want you to pay extra when I can get it for free.” You don’t know why you are explaining yourself like this. It’s normal not to accept drinks from customers.

“It’s fine, I totally understand. Thank you!” He reaches for the bottle immediately.

You take a fancy glass out of the rack and pour yourself one of the ready-to-serve cocktails that your colleague prepared, right in front of him. He doesn’t say anything as he keeps staring at your hands.

“Thanks for the drink.” You say while putting the bottle away.

“Me?” He asks surprised. “Thought this is on the bar.”

“Well, you gave me the idea, and if you really insist on spending your money so unnecessarily, who am I to stop you?”

“That’s a good attitude.” He smiles again before bringing his bottle close to your glass. “Cheers to a good Thursday in a lovely company.”

You clink your glass with a smile on your face. It seems like he finally understood your intention, so you feel relieved. 

“How does that taste?”

“Don’t let the color fool you, it tastes really strong but delicious.” You look at him for a second and notice that got his interest. “Wanna taste it?” You offer your own drink to him, and he contemplates for a few seconds before leaning in.

“Yes, I am curious.”

You hand the glass to him. Your fingers touch for a second, and you get so excited that you worry about dropping the glass. It’s like your heart is in your throat.

“Your hands are cold,” he comments casually before taking a sip right from the spot covered by your lipstick. You gasp. You have no idea if he did it on purpose, but the way he’s drinking it… your body is responding to that so much. You clear your throat, trying to calm yourself down. 

“Delicious.” He smiles, handing back your glass, and you notice a bit of lipstick in the corner of his mouth.

It creates this internal dilemma. Should you just let him know about it or act like nothing happened and let him walk around like this? The second one could cause him a lot of embarrassment, and you don’t wanna be the reason for that. That’s why you suddenly find yourself leaning closer to him, just to wipe the lipstick off. He doesn’t move an inch, not jumping like you would expect, letting you touch him. When you realize what you are doing, you suddenly feel super self-conscious. 

“You…” You gulp down. “You have… lipstick on… just here.” 

You keep rubbing your finger against the corner of his mouth. You feel his stubble and how soft his lips are, but you try not to think about it. He chuckles, covering your hand with his. It surprises you so much that you freeze for a second. Then you look into his eyes, struggling to see if you made him feel uncomfortable or not.

“So considerate of you. Thank you.”

You move your hand away from his mouth but not away from his touch. Somehow you can’t find the strength to do that. 

What he does next, though, makes you completely breathless. He brings your hand to his mouth again, but this time he presses his lips gently against your skin, smiling right after. Your eyes open with surprise, feeling completely speechless, yet you don’t move away. You don’t even realize you are smiling slightly.

“Your hands are still so cold.”

“Yeah…” You try to speak, but it feels like your words are stuck in your throat. “They are always cold.”

“We need to change that.” He places another kiss on your hand.

*

He’s surprisingly nervous as he leads you to the living room. Based on his confidence back in the bar, you didn’t expect him to become so shy all of a sudden.

“Do you want some coffee?”

“No.” You answer quickly. The only thing you want is to feel his lips again but you keep that thought to yourself.

“What do you want then?” 

It’s obvious in his tone and the way he looks at you he doesn’t ask you about drinks.

“You.” You can’t believe you said this out loud, but it’s the truth.

He doesn’t need another push as he comes closer, grabbing you by the chin. Your lips crash together with an almost desperate hunger. He takes the opportunity immediately, getting his tongue inside your mouth in a fervent exploration. The sensation is electrifying.

You let him explore your mouth while you focus on his taste. It’s so unique and tasty, you just can’t get enough of it. Your hands slowly move toward the back of his head, pulling him closer.

“Fuck,” he groans when he feels your touch, breaking the kiss just to move his lips to your neck. 

“Mhmm… James.” His lips feel so good against your neck. It just sends a jolt of arousal through your body.

But then he freezes, with his mouth glued to your neck. You open your eyes confused wanting to ask him what happened, and that’s when you realize what you’ve just said.

“You know who I am?” His voice is a warm whisper against your skin.

“Of course, I know who you are.” You make it sound so natural as if there’s no way you wouldn’t know who he is. “You think I go to the houses of men I don’t know?” You say playfully.

“I didn’t mean that...” He raises his head from the crook of your neck just to look you in the eye. “I didn’t mean it offensively, I just wasn’t sure. I’m just stupid, I didn’t expect it.”

“I know who you are, James Bucky Barnes.”

“Fuck,” he groans, bringing his thumb to your bottom lip. “Say it again.”

“James Bucky Barnes or just James?”

He kisses you more desperately than before, his hands finding your hips as he gently grabs them, pulling you so close that you can feel his erection. You gasp so softly, but he hears it anyway, and you settle on his hard cock so it’s right against where you want it to be.

He moans. “Let’s go to the bedroom, doll.”

“Why?” You ask innocently as if you don’t know what he means. “Isn’t your couch comfortable enough?”

For him? Sure. But for you?

“The bed is better.”

“Okay.” You sound so obedient suddenly as you wrap your legs around his torso.

He immediately lifts you up without effort, and you smile, letting him carry you toward his room. He’s a super soldier after all. He closes the door with his foot as soon as you’re inside, then he gently puts you on the bed, like he’s afraid you might break. The way he’s acting is so endearing, but you want him to let go really badly. Even the manner he starts to take off your pants is too gentle.

You let him undress you the way he wants, though. Then you move closer to him, taking his clothes off, your movements not as gentle as his. You are impatient and needy. You see him holding his breath when you reach to touch his chest, close to where his metal arm begins, so you lean in to leave a kiss right there. You don’t know if you are crossing a line, but you have to. He should know that this is not something that would bother you, on the contrary, it turns you on even more. When he doesn’t move away from you, you keep kissing around his scars and his chest. Your hand is on his shoulder, gently caressing.

 “That feels so good, doll,” he says with a sigh before he grabs your waist. “but it's time for me to eat.”

You find yourself on your back so suddenly that you don’t even have time to react. He quickly settles between your legs and you understand exactly what he meant. He lifts them enough so you can rest them on his shoulders as he gets more comfortable on his tummy. You feel a hole in your stomach immediately. You can’t believe Bucky is between your thighs, about to eat you out.

He’s taking his sweet time at first, kissing down your thighs and even smelling you before he finally brings his tongue to your entrance.

“Come on, James. Don’t tease me.” You look down just to see him smiling.

“Why not? You seem to enjoy it.”

“I would enjoy it more if you stopped teasing and started eating.”

Surprisingly, Bucky doesn’t waste more time and properly starts to fuck you with his tongue. He’s not too quick, nor too slow with his moves, and you’re shocked when he brings his fingers to your mouth. 

“Need you to make them wet for me, please.” Even while saying that, he sounded a little too polite.

“On one condition,” you say, looking directly into his eyes. “Stop acting like I am made of glass.”

“But you kinda are.”

“I am not. Believe me.”

He says nothing, making sure to lick your slit before getting his tongue inside you again, his fingers, glued to your lips. You take it as a silent agreement and you open your mouth, suck his fingers, and let him wet them. When he thinks it’s enough, he gently takes them out and brings them right to your clit. He doesn’t touch it directly at first, teasing around it until you move your hips a little, needing to feel your clit stimulated.

“Please.” The way he’s taking his sweet time is so frustrating.

He lets his hand drop and instead of feeling his fingers on your clit, you feel his tongue at the same time he gets a finger inside you. You moan loudly, finally getting what you wanted from the start.

His other hand reaches for yours when he hears you grabbing the sheet, and you immediately hold it, enjoying how his cold metal feels. When you feel the second finger and he scissors both of them inside you, you’re shocked by how close you suddenly are. You can’t help but arch your back and move your hips, needing it faster.

He reads the signals pretty quickly and lets you use his mouth while he keeps pumping his fingers. It doesn’t take long for you to gasp, moan, and start to shake because of the pleasure he’s giving you. 

“James! Shit. I’m- gonna… ahh… come.”

You moan louder than you expected, dropping your head against his sheets, possessed by a great wave of pleasure. You want to tell him not to stop anything, but you can’t. And you don’t need to as he keeps licking and fingering you while you ride your orgasm out, prolonging it as much as possible.

When it’s done, you are feeling so good yet you are hungry for more. You raise your head a little and see Bucky still between your legs, but this time his beard is covered with your slick. He looks so handsome. His blue eyes are shining and his hair is all messy. It makes you wanna kiss him and that’s exactly what you do. You reach down to him, and he meets you in the middle, kissing you the way he was just eating you out: with passion and hunger.

He’s less gentle than before as you feel his hands grabbing your breasts, but it’s still not enough. You cover his hands with yours and push him to grab them harder than before. You let out a muffled moan while kissing him.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.”

You find yourself blushing like you two aren’t having sex. To mask your reaction, you reach out to his hard cock, gently grabbing it.

“Oh god,” he groans as he instinctively squeeze your breasts harder.

“Mhmm, yes.” You lean into his touch. “Just like that.”

Bucky looks at you as if you said something shocking. Is he not used to communicating during sex?

“What? Did I do something wrong?”

“You’re surprising me for someone so delicate.”

“I told you, I am not.”

He smiles. “Do you wanna help me put on a condom then?”

“I would love to, but…” You smile. “What if I told you I am clean and on the pill?”

“Fuck, I need you.” He kisses you suddenly. “Now.”

“I am right here.” It sounds so calming. “You can take me however you want.”

You’re not only on your back in the next second, but you also have his cock lined up at your entrance.

“Jesus, doll! For a pretty little thing, you’re quite nasty.”

“I just know what I want.” And this is it.

He nods, wrapping your legs around his ass at the same time he pushes inside you. In a second, your head is thrown back while you moan loudly. The way he fills you is so delicious. It makes you feel so full but not uncomfortable.

“You’re taking me so well already.”

“Please…” You raise your hips to create more friction. “Please, move.”

He brings his mouth to your breast a little before he starts thrusting, making sure to leave a small hickey right on top of it. It hurts so good, and you moan without holding back. It is music to Bucky’s ears. He just wants to hear it again, so he does it again.

“You want it rough, don’t you?” He thrusts harder than before. “You’re so needy.”

“Yeah.” Your voice is so shaky already. “I told you already.”

“Told me what?” He teases. “I don’t remember.”

“That I am not made of glass.”

“No, you are made for me.” He brings his hand to your face to move the hair strands that cover your eyes. “For my cock.”

“In that case…” You don’t know where the sudden rush of confidence comes from. “You are made for me. To fill me up.” You move your hips again, trying to fuck yourself on him.

“Oh, god. You’re so fucking wet,” he moans. “I am, I’m gonna fill you up so much.” He kisses you suddenly, your teeth almost crashing together because of the thrusts, but you don’t care.

“Can’t wait.” You tease him. “Don’t hold back, okay?”

He says nothing, letting his head drop a little so he can suck on your neck properly. He’s definitely fucking you harder. He pulls until he’s almost completely out of you before thrusting inside you again. And again. And again. It takes your breath away. The way it makes you feel is indescribable. You lose the little remaining control you had and just turn into a moaning mess. 

“Say my name, baby. C-come on.”

“James?” You sound hesitant even if you don’t mean to because you don’t know which name he wants to hear.

“Again,” he begs, his metal arm on your leg pushing it right against his ass.

“James!” This one comes out so naturally. No questions, no hesitation. You just breathe out his name with a moan.

“God, you look so beautiful. So pretty with my cock inside you.” His thrusts get faster, and you have no idea how he can speak so well while you’re a mess.

“I’m so close,” you can barely say without taking a breath in the middle of the sentence.

“What do you want?”

“Just… harder.”

“Like this?” He asks, suddenly thrusting a little harder than before. “Or like this?”

“This! Yes! Just like this!”

“You just want it hard.” He whispers against your ear. “What a dirty girl.”

You hear him, but you can’t respond. You are too busy coming all over his cock, and it feels like you are in heaven. He continues to fuck you as the pleasure fades away, murmuring how pretty you are and how good you make him feel before he comes, too, grabbing the bedpost behind you with his metal arm. It makes a clicking sound, but you don’t care, opening your still foggy eyes just to watch him.

There’s so much come. You can already feel it dripping out of you as he keeps fucking you. You expect it to end soon, but it doesn’t. It goes on and on. The way he loses control as he comes just triggers another orgasm out of you. You would be surprised how quickly you could come again if it didn’t feel overwhelmingly good. You can’t think about anything other than him and the way he makes you feel.

His come is getting all over your thighs and ass, and the bed, as he moans. “Kakaya khoroshaya devochka.” What a good girl.

You can’t help but laugh despite not understanding a word of what he says. “Is that Russian?”

He opens his eyes, and the blue you love is almost completely grey. “Yes.” He sounds confused, too. 

“What does it mean?” Your afterglow can’t overshadow your curiosity. “If you don’t tell me, this isn’t happening again.” You try to make it obvious you aren’t serious with your playful tone. Especially not after those orgasms.

“Look at you, little and feisty, blackmailing me.” He chuckles before leaving a kiss on your lips. “I told you what a good girl you are. I didn’t realize I spoke in Russian.”

You laugh a little. “Say it again.” You give him the cutest look. “Please?”

“Ty moya khoroshaya devochka.” He repeats softly. You’re my good girl.

You don’t even realize how content you look as you keep smiling.

“Now, I can get used to that.”

“Say my name again, please.”

You love the neediness in his voice. “James?” You tilt your head a little. “Or would you prefer Bucky?”

“Fuck, it doesn’t matter.” His thumb is suddenly on your lips. “I can get used to that, too.”

[seresinhangmanjake]

Do You Love?

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x wife!reader

Summary: Feyd is soft for his wife and only wants to know if she loves him. His wife just wants him to come home.

Notes/Warnings: fluff and a little angst and very light smut (still 18+), softy-soft Feyd, probably could do with a wedding prequel if people were interested, im sure there are typos. I think that's it.

Words: 1400

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist

He hates being away from you. Can't bear it. It takes less than two days for withdrawal from your lack of presence to settle in, and when it hits, it hits hard. The luminescence of your smile that threatens the darkness within him on his worst days; the delicate suppleness of your skin that introduced him to the softness and warmth of a human body; the specific quality and tone of your voice when you whisper and whimper and moan in his ear—he needs it. He needs you. He craves you until the second you’re in his arms again. He just wishes he could understand if you feel the same. He wishes he could know if you love him as much as he does you.

When you came into his life, you were a pawn for peace. A gift from one Great House to another. A reluctant bride who couldn’t choke back her tears on her wedding day. He’ll never forget the saltiness that lingered on his lips after the kiss that bound you to him forever. He can still feel the pang in his heart from seeing you finch when he guided the strap of your nightgown off your shoulder. 

It took ages for you to shed your fear; to allow him to hold you and kiss you and be inside of you, but those many months of ‘two steps forward, one step back’ have left him in a paralyzing state of identity crisis and uncertainty. You’ve turned him into a man who begs for scraps of reassurance that you care for him rather than a man who shows no mercy for love; a man so preoccupied with thoughts of his wife’s affection that not even his enemies are granted his full attention as he watches the light drain from their eyes. 

From the moment he leaves, he anticipates his return so you can quell his agitation, at least to some degree. The same words echo in his head each time he steps off a Harkonnen ship to search for you—hug me, hold me, kiss me, let my body inside of yours, tell me you love me—and in recent months you haven’t failed to do those things, with the exception of the last request. The day you tell him you love him will be the day he stops fearing you'll eventually grow bored with him. On that day, he’ll be happy, at peace. He’ll be unafraid of what his future with you will bring.

—

Reader POV

He often goes to Arrakis for a week or two, that’s not new. He must monitor things and fight Fremen when necessary. However, this time was different. There was something foreign in his eyes after he kissed your palm and boarded his ship to depart. Sadness? Pain? Worry? All three? You didn’t know, but it terrified you from how little he tried to disguise it. With each departure, it’s seemed his mood has worsened and you can't decipher its cause.

Now, ten days later, your fingernails are worn to nubs and dark circles have found home under your eyes from nightmares interrupting your sleep. They’re different every night but they always end with Feyd not coming home to you, and you don’t know how to cope. You tell yourself you’re crazy, that there’s no possibility of him being taken down with a Fremen knife or gobbled up by a sandworm or blown to bits from his ship getting shot out of the sky. He’s too smart, too quick, too trained for such things to claim his life. At the same time, however, the last person whose death you dreamt of was your mother’s, and while it’s rare your dreams are prophetic, that one came to fruition not five days later. Who is to say your dreams of your husband are not the same?

But you can’t lose Feyd, not when it feels like you just got him. When you married, your dread of navigating a new husband and life on Giedi Prime—both of which have a reputation for being cold and desolate and harsh—crippled your ability to see him for who he is. It’s only been the last few months that you’ve let yourself love and understand him, and you can’t imagine a reality in which you wake one morning knowing you will never have him again. You wouldn’t survive it. 

But you won't have to, because he's fine, perfectly safe—that's what you tell yourself. He told you he wouldn’t be away long and he wouldn’t say that unless he believed it, right?

Then again, believing he would be home soon doesn’t mean fate agrees. What if he's already gone? Wait, no. No, he wouldn't do that to you. He'll be home because he always makes it home. He’s fine. He’s safe. He would never leave you. You nod to yourself, swallowing hard. He’s fine. He’s safe. He would never leave. He’s fine. He’s safe. He would never leave.

--

Your body curls into the first touch of warmth you’ve had in a week and a half as a heavy weight rests in the dip of your waist and tugs you against a solid form. Plush lips ghost your temple. A heartbeat thrums in your ear and you feel the rise and fall of a chest. 

Oh, you like this dream. He’s so real in this dream. It’s the first dream where death is not at his heels.

“You don’t know how I miss you,” he mutters into your ear. Stands of your loose hair brush back from your face. “How unbearable it is.”

His voice is so clear, so beautiful and vivid that it’s almost like he’s really with you. Humming contently, you huddle further into him. “Then stop leaving me,” you mumble.

Breath catches in his chest, no longer moving at a steady rhythm. “You're awake?”

Your brows knit—that's not a very ‘dream-like’ question; it threatens your lovely illusion—and then your eyes snap open. 

“Feyd?” His nose is an inch from yours. Your hand raises to cup his cheek, just to see if he is real, and you gasp at how warm his skin is under your palm. “You're here,” you cry, quickly pushing him onto his back and crawling on top of him. 

You press your lips to his, hard. A whimper is pulled from your throat when he parts his mouth so you can get a taste of his tongue. Yes, he’s definitely real. 

Hands trail down your back to your ass, squeezing two handfuls of flesh and pushing your pelvis down onto his. He’s already hard and thick and pressing into you, the matching thin material of your nightgown and his sleep pants doing a pathetic job of maintaining any sort of barrier. 

Feyd slowly drags the ink-toned silk up the curves and dimples of your body until it pools at your waist. Fingers graze your skin as they move lower to slide through your slick bare folds, and at his touch, your brain goes absolutely fuzzy. You’re unashamedly desperate, refusing to take any longer to get what you need, but when you finally free him from his pants and he thrusts up into you, you both find yourselves stopping. The kiss breaks and you simply breathe in each other’s breaths as he stays nestled deep inside you. 

Your forehead falls to his. A fresh tear that you hadn’t noticed in your eye lands on his cheek. “You're ok,” you gently whimper, reassuring yourself of his safety. His nose nudges yours.

“When am I not?” he whispers as he catches the next tear with his thumb before it drops from your lower lashes. 

“In my nightmares.”

His brow pinches in curiosity, cock twitching within your walls. “You dream about me?” 

You lightly nod. “I thought this was a dream.”

“Why?”

“Because I had a sickening feeling you weren’t going to make it back this time. I know it was a routine trip, but I just couldn’t shake it,” you say. “And that would’ve killed me, Feyd. I love you.”

Feyd sucks in a short stream of air as his hips slightly buck up against yours. “You love me?” he repeats.

“Yes,” you exhale, riding the little high of pleasure that came from the sharp involuntary shift of his hips. “I was so scared to be right.”

Feyd's arms tighten around you and he tilts his chin up to connect your lips. Kisses travel along the line of your jaw and down the length of your neck. His tongue dips into the hollow of your throat. 

“I love you,” he tells you.

Your stuffy chuckle settles into a grin. “I know you do.”

---

tag: @avidreader73

[astro-rainbow777]

♈︎ 𝔄𝔯𝔦𝔢𝔰 𝔦𝔫 𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔥𝔬𝔲𝔰𝔢𝔰 ♈︎

✶ Aries in 1st: Being ruled by the planet Mars, these natives give a bold and invigorating first impression. What you see is what you get with Aries in the first- they have a raw and honest personality- which can be off putting for some people because it can be taken as rude depending on the person/situation- but I have to say you must admire them for being so tenacious and authentic in nature. I can hands down say the best quality about Aries in the first is what you see is what you get! They have a strong ego here, are not ashamed of their behaviors, body or personality - regardless of what others say to or about them. ✶ Aries in 2nd: Bold spenders, can be quick to have, give away and lose money. Fleeting self worth and values- can feel and act confident one hour and then shy and shameful the next. Values honesty, integrity and sense of self- this may be because they don’t have the greatest sense of self. Believes that kids and the younger generations have the most value in the world. Having children of their own could be of the greatest importance- OR (and this is a big or) they could never want kids and value connecting to their inner child and independence greatly. It’s one or the other. Can feel at war with their finances and self worth.

✶ Aries in 3rd: Athletic and popular in middle school/high school. Known for their leadership skills and qualities amongst their peers, classmates, cousins and siblings. Can be the youngest of their siblings or babied by others. Intellectually motivated, driven and competitive. Impulsive and passionate in their speech. May say things for shock value or improv their actual knowledge. Finds stimulation in an intellectual debate and arguing. It’s hard to win an argument with these people because they speak so quickly- their arguing style is just backing people into a corner mentally, they don’t give up easily. However, they can regret things that they say when they are angry or upset.

✶ Aries in 4th: Huge indicator of raising yourself as a kid. Family required you to be very active, you could be the most successful in your family as an adult because of this. Family is a point of weakness for you, mainly because they possess a lot of “childish” qualities. You may feel like your parents/guardians were big babies and never grew up. You could put a lot of energy towards your family, but could have a shorter fuse with them over all people. You may be the youngest out of your entire family. Your family could be competitive with you our vise versa. Your family could be the start of your “Villan Arc” 💀- your family may have childish values, argue a lot or they may be a “board game family”. TW - Worst case scenario- violence in the home.

✶ Aries in 5th: Play fights when flirting, aggressive flirters, acts like they hate their crush. I have this placement lmaooo and I LOVE to play fight with my man- like btch?! You wanna go!?!?!? It’s so much fun to me and usually leads to s*xies ayyye. But that’s definitely a me thing, I love to talk smack to my significant other- that’s how it’s always been. Being competitive, NO BORING DATES EVER! Known to have secs on the first date. Passionate- goooood lovers. Either wants to have kids right away or doesn’t want kids at all- this I huge independence thing that keeps them from not wanting to have kids. You can’t be the baby, if you have a baby! Commitment issues.

✶ Aries in 6th: Enjoys active routines and work place. Known to work in establishments with competitive pay and many enemies in work place. Can be scene as bossy by their coworkers. Needs to be weary of being hypocritical of their coworkers. Temper at work. Benefits from a workout routine. Needs to take out stress and anger from work & daily responsibilities. Can be very active or have hyper pets, may need a big back yard to run their dogs or other animals in. Competitive in health and motivated to be the best version’s of themselves. Picky with their diet and what they decide to put in their bodies. Can have an all or nothing attitude- because theirs definitely a reason why they are so picky. Usually this stems from poor self care habits and bad physical health. ✶ Aries in 7th: Passionate and assertive lovers, the fire they feel for their committed partners are unmatched. They may loose interest beyond physical lust- especially if they don’t take they time to figure out whether or not they ACTUALLY like someone. These individuals could truly find good in anyone so it’s important that they don’t project their desire for commitment onto someone else. They can date or be friends with some bold and persistent personalities- even bossy. It’s important that these natives find someone who will give them some wiggle room to find themselves. These people find out who they are through trial and error in their relationships - it’s typical for these natives to have “failed relationships” that lead them to find out what they definitely don’t like- which leads them to their ultimate truth.

✶ Aries in 8th: This gives the native a hyper-vigilant quality to the native with Aries in 8th. In the past the native may have been made to feel like they didn’t belong, maybe they were bullied, or judged for something they couldn’t control. This may lead them to be on edge, secretive and even defensive about who they are authentically. They are very protective about who they actually are because they have been hurt before- many of these people are Virgo Risings, so it’s interesting to see that this may be one of the reasons why they are so hard on themselves and receive a judgmental sort of reputation. ✶ Aries in 9th: I love this placement so much honestly, because a lot of these natives have the philosophy that they can go after anything that they want. They have a particularly strong sense of self and actually may have a hard time understanding why other people don’t go after what they want or believe in themselves and their dreams. This is a super hard working placement IMO - it gives very much that “I want it, I got it!” vibe! It’s very possible at a time in their life that no one believed in these individuals so they just had to prove themselves to the world, and that’s so beautiful.

✶ Aries in 10th: Go getters in their career- they do best when they are their own boss- they definitely don’t do well with being told what to do because of their sensitive nature. However, they have a lot of creativity and art to give to the world. They need a career that is authentic to who they- a simple 9-5 WILL NOT cut it for these people. So if you’re an Aries 10th and you’re still trying to make your boring, loveless day job work- this is why. It is not in your genetic code to be running someone else’s business 😂 you are the business starter- not finisher! Quit diminishing your own light because I know y’all are hard on yourselves regardless. Pick your hard and go after it!

✶ Aries in 11th: Leaders of the pack, these natives love bringing their friends together and being absolutely crazy with their friends. They are naturally socialites and feel their best when they are interacting in their community and collaborating with like minds. These people live for their down time, special niche hobbies and interests. They work hard to play hard. They may also have some pretty strong humanitarian values they stick by, these natives have no problem with telling people their opinion on any given situation and they really don’t care what you have to say about it 😆

✶ Aries in 12th: With Aries in the house of isolation, hidden endings, mental health, dreams and subconscious awareness- this can make a native who suppresses their anger deeply and keeps a lot of their authentic reactions to themselves. They may feel more comfortable expressing this rage internally or when they know nobody else is around. They may be completely out of touch with their anger and impulses. They could have to isolate before taking action towards their authentic desires or dreams. Dreams can be violent and they may have intense nightmares. These natives can work out their best alone- although they usually like to workout with someone, this keeps them from pushing themselves for fear of being ugly or vulnerable. They don’t like to show their struggle to others, complain or their authentic side.

Happy Aries Season Everyone! I hope you are all safe and navigating eclipse season /mercury retrograde with ease. I am making a series out of the signs in the houses. I hope y’all are enjoying my content! Love you and thank you so much for reading my content and giving me feedback. This is such a sacred study to me. It is my life.

~Kya

[soobnny]

dating him | hwang hyunjin

❝ i’ve never seen anything quite like you, my love ❞

chan | lee know | changbin | HYUNJIN | han | felix | seungmin | jeongin

hopeless romantic hwang hyunjin

love is beautiful and brilliant hwang hyunjin

yall cannot convince me that he isn’t the BIGGEST lover

romance is in his blood

he is so fascinated by it

so, for that reason, i feel like dating him would be like the love you read about or watch in movies

bc hyunjin would b the type to consume so much of romantic media

it’s where he learned everything from

wow what a dream

he strikes me as the type to fall in love with every little thing too

his eyes is just a lens of romance

and it’s set on YOU

every single love language he has it .. but here are some specifics

love language #1 gift giving

hyunjin is a traveler okay

and in every trip, he always has something to give you

keychains, t-shirts, bags, jewelry, stickers, refrigerator magnets, pins, you name it

even u have to remind him not to go all out sometimes

bc when that boy splurges, he SPENDS

esp for u ? he would spoil u in a heartbeat

he always makes sure he leaves a day of his travels dedicated to u and thinking about u

on that note, he tends to buy u guys matching items

matching phone cases, matching rings, matching scrunchie

whatever u can get that’s matching

he WILL get it

it excites him too

he loves being able to tell the world how in love he is

wait side note

whenever he’s traveling, he’s always just instinctively thinking about you

he buys this bagel for breakfast, oh ???? like hey guys yn loves bagels too

and the boys r like WE KNOWWWW 😭

everything is about u quite literally

ok continuing on

and he gifts u his art too

his art is very important to him

and he has found lately, u are the one person littering his sketch books

oh he’s down bad

i think for ur anniversary, he’d paint the constellations of how the stars looked that night and aligned perfectly

or his favorite picture of you

down bad that he also buys u a shit ton of dresses

and lingerie ………….

look he knows his fashion

he knows what looks great

u can’t blame him for buying what he knows will look so pretty on you

(he’d probably give u his card one time and say “go crazy” like wow he’s packed)

#2 quality time

i think his favorite dates would also be expensive

he just can’t help himself

BUT u know he has a sweet spot for self care dates too

spa days are very important to him

loves being able to relax and unwind with u

he especially loves when u play with his hair and when u paint his nails

one time, u caught him stealing one of your nail polishes

would also be the type to bring some bit of you in his travels

like ur perfume or ur shampoo

anything that’ll remind him of u

tho ur scent is his favorite

hence why he goes for perfumes or soap or shampoos bc u feel closer to him this way

he just loves being with u even if both of u are doing nothing

just like that bruno major song

conversations where u lose track of time

conversations as in talking shit about the people you hate together

😭😭😭😭

i think he’d want to paint with u

he’d be so shy to ask you too

just simple things

that cute date idea where you swap paintings every 5 mins or something

when u showed him that tiktok, he jumped in excitement

he wanted to do it right away

he prepares everything

he has both ur paintings framed in his room

it’s his most prized posession

oh, and he always invites u to game nights with the boys

he is SO competitive at monopoly

he couldn’t give two shits about other games

u don’t know why he gets so worked up with monopoly

“SEUNGMIN DONT DO IT SEUNGMIN!!!!”

it’s actually rly funny

he would be the type to take revenge

“you’re gonna regret buying a house there”

would cheer if his friends go to jail in the game or if they go bankrupt

doesn’t even try to hide it

and if he’s playing as the banker, he’d slip in extra bills for you

#3 words of affirmation

tho usually said when he thinks u’re asleep

he’s thankful that u take care of him when he forgets to

esp when he’s so immersed in his art

he whispers words of love

like poets and authors in books

he is just so full of love i can’t say it enough

physical touch except instead of touch, he loves kissing you

LIPS AND NECK ESPECIALLY

those are his top 2

he uses tongue 😕 sorry to break it to u

and he also leaves hickeys

so don’t run out of concealer okay!!!!!!! bc he tends to leave like a lot

before i end

here r some more dates he loves

botanical gardens

he’d pick a flower and place it behind your ear

now it’s his lockscreen

sunday markets

he loves the domesticity of shopping together

he buys u lots of flowers

every single type

u think he’s given u all types already

there is never a day where ur apartment doesn’t have flowers in a vase

bc as soon as the first sign of death arrives, he’s off to buy u new ones

he strikes me as the type to also go all out for valentines

hyunjin would send u mounts of chocolates and flowers

take u out to the fanciest date

u get to try new food and cuisines bc of him!

might even buy plane tickets so u two could travel together

maaaaaaaan just treasure everything

a love like hyunjin’s is hard to come by

note. credits to user @.luvknow for the layout of this post! let me know what you think! please discuss these with me i’m crazy

[tteokdoroki]

THIRD TIME'S A CHARM - kento nanami.

✩ — about. “my coworker is a wonderful person. they’re kind and sweet. they care a lot about others. recently, i’ve been having some…less than platonic feelings for them and i don’t know how to handle it." kento nanami never cared for workplace shenanigans. he never took his mind off of work. and he never thought he would develop feelings for his coworker, nor expect for them to feel the same way about him. what happens when he misses your three attempts to ask him out? perhaps reddit will know... ( 5.5K )

✩ — warnings. minors, blank and ageless blogs do not interact! sfw, fluff, angst, happy ending  - video banner ! AITA-verse!au, office romance!au, mutual pinining, cluelessness, misunderstandings, christmas time, mentions of alcohol, office worker!nanami, afab!reader.

✩ — things to note. happy monday everyone, i have for you yet another fic to go with my gojo one! this story was written as a gift for @antizenin bc i love her so bad !! can be read as a stand-alone but does make refrences to my AITA gojo fic !! thank you to @todorosie for beta reading! hope you enjoy beloveds <3 - series m.list ⋆ m.list ⋆ read on ao3 ! ִ ࣪𖤐₊ ⊹

my coworker is a wonderful person. they’re kind and sweet. they care a lot about others. recently, i’ve been having some…less than platonic feelings for them and i don’t know how to handle it. my chest feels tight when they’re away and whenever they’re nearby my heart beats so fast i feel like i might pass. it would be a pleasure to date them or to just stand by them… there’s only one problem. i’m not usually the type of guy who engages in workplace shenanigans, i hardly know how to interact with people outside of the confines of my work. my coworker has made a few advances, at least i think they have. i don’t know how to respond or whether or not i’m over-thinking this. do they even like me? is it all in my head? i could really do with some advice… how should i go about this and telling them how i feel?  TLDR: i have a crush on my coworker but i can’t, for the life of me, tell if they like me back. 

you’ve always liked your co-worker, kento nanami.

to those who don’t know him, he appears quite stoic and blunt, cold even. like the crisp weather at the start of winter, air that’s sharp and bites unpleasantly at your nose. nanami tends to act the same towards those he holds no affections for, blocking them out as if he were a fortress made of stone.

one may even paint a picture of kento nanami as a lone wolf — callous and uninterested in the buzz of the office. he stays late, works long hours, never engages with the gossip on your floor after work. 

that’s only the beginning of how the world sees your blonde co-worker.

but you have come to know nanami, in your short time working for Gojo Corporations. you’ve not been there very long, still adapting to the office culture and your brand new line of work, but in the few months that you have been finding your equilibrium in the office — you’ve gotten used to nanami’s demeanour, his ethic, his lifestyle. you’ve come to appreciate it, and him. 

the man works hard, with a quiet confidence about him that puts your mind at ease — a quality you only wished that you had. it makes you curious, how little he seems to care about what it is Gojo Corp actually does but how much of his time he puts into it and how much he cares for the people around him too. you’ve learned, by taking the desk to nanami’s left, that he’d risen pretty quickly in the company, he begrudgingly seems to be gojo’s (your boss’) favourite employee and that he’s surprisingly good at what he does for someone who hates it so much. 

he presents at meetings and debfriefs calmly, always gets through his tasks with an air of rationale and when you’d first started…nanami was kind, gently leading you through your own work as if he’d taken your hand in his and was guiding you to some place warmer — away from the chill of your nerves and self-doubt. in his own way, he cared. nanami was not as cold as one might think. 

there’s so much more to him than what meets the average human eye. ever since joining the company — you found yourself curious, wanting to know everything about him. what drives him, what pisses him off, where he wants to go and who he wants to be. beneath his calm, collected and commanding aura there is a man whose heart holds many secrets. a man you want to know… and might even want to be with.

the very thought of being with nanami makes you shy where you wish that you weren’t. maybe then, you could tell the blonde office man how handsome you thought he looked while concentrating on filing reports and paperwork. perhaps you could then steel your nerves and stop the shake in your voice while telling him how much you like the low dip in his own when he explains KPIs and stock markets to you. not to mention how hard he works on keeping his patience with not just you… but the interns megumi, nobara and yuuji as well (yuuji was the brother of someone your boss new very well back in college, apparently). the ways in which he’s taken the young trio under your wing, it’s a wonder you haven’t had baby fever yet.

nanami even extends the same grace to your man-child of a boss, he wouldn’t have stayed working for Gojo Corp and for satoru gojo if he didn’t. in some ways, they were like a little family at the company, and nanami was the responsible one always picking up gojo’s messes and holding the others together. 

especially on days when gojo came into work emotional over developments in his ex’s new life.

still, nanami stayed. 

and your crush on him bloomed like a light frost spreading across the double-glazed glass of a window. 

you felt your heartbeat speed up whenever nanami was close by and you could smell the ginger and cinnamon on him, not to mention, the hairs on the back of your neck would stand whenever your hands brushed over one another’s. nanami was warm on the inside, you knew that — he liked his interns, he cared for gojo especially when the days were tough (like when he holed himself up in his office after finding out his ex was getting engaged). he even brought lunch for the office floor. mostly soup for haibara whenever he got sick. 

you knew deep down that nanami was soft and loving — you felt that he needed love too. you wanted to be the one to give it to him, even if it was the last thing you did.

ATTEMPT #ONE - THE CHRISTMAS PARTY. 

satoru gojo’s office holiday parties were far from what was considered appropriate for the workplace. 

with thousand dollar bottles of booze and jars of caviar dotted about the main conference room — it was hard for anyone not to be in high spirits. the notes of cheery christmas carols drift through your ears and the tinsel that your boss had thrown over your shoulders scratches at your neck uncomfortably. you’re not one for buzzing celebrations like this, they’re too noisy and loud, but gojo has made you promise to attend this year's party… and he was oddly convincing for a manager this unserious. 

ultimately, you were glad that you’d decided to come because while being spoiled by your boss was all good and fun — it provided you with the perfect social setting and opportunity to speak to your longtime crush, nanami. 

like you, he wasn’t a fan of forced mingling in the office, and had no interest in consoling his tipsy manager who was currently crying up a storm into one of his poor intern’s shoulders. the blonde office man kept to himself, tucked away by the bright lights of the christmas tree as he nursed a piping hot coffee — he wouldn’t be getting drunk on company time. 

you manage to break away from conversing with shoko and make your way over to the latter co-worker, swallowing down your nerves with a swig of the moscato satoru had so generously picked out for you — knowing that you liked the sweeter stuff and that it would probably loosen your lips enough for you to get this over with (he and those interns were fully aware of how much you admired kento nanami). sliding up beside the man, your long, embroided skirts swish against his ankles — only serving to pull his attention away from his work phone and onto you. 

taking a sip of your drink to warm yourself up with liquid courage and break the ice — you hum, quietly. “any plans for the holidays, kento?” you ask him simply, and though your deep and gorgeous brown eyes stay trained on the bubbles in your glass — you can feel kento’s own chocolatey pair land on the side of your face. whether they’re scrutinising you or admiring you, you can’t actually tell.

if you were looking, you’d be able to see the way that the sharp edges of kento’s usual expression soften across his face — the straight line of his lips are parted, his furrowed brows becomes relax and his posture no longer ridged, but instead, at ease. if you were looking you’d know that out of all of his co-workers (aside from the interns), kento is most comfortable around you. he find your meek and cautious demeanour adorable and the way that you sometimes awkwardly flutter around him in conversations is cute. 

“not much, just working.” he responds quickly and shortly. to anyone else, they would have taken nanami’s reply as cold and callous, but you? you smile softly, glad that he’s even taking part in your small talk. 

you’ve always been a little quieter than most colleagues at Gojo Corp, but you’ve always tried your hardest to make connections and bring the group together. you care for the interns so deeply, helping them to learn from your initial mistakes at the organisation and to do better. he likes that you’re good company, knowing just the right things to ask and when, allowing for comfortable silences when no one in the team feels like talking.

nanami likes you. 

and perhaps that’s what makes him awkward around you as well, the very fact that he can’t find fault in you — that you’re too sweet and kind and gentle to complain about like he would with nagging gojo. what does he say to someone as wonderful as you?

he doesn’t want the moment to end, however. “how about you?” 

the blonde says your name softly, as though he’s testing it out on his tongue — and you can’t help the warmth that blooms like a spring rose in your chest at the honeysuckle sound. you’re hot all over and you’re sure it’s not the alcohol. 

“f-family!” you squeak shyly, voice high pitched as you fend off excitement — having nanami elaborate on your conversations isn’t a usual occurrence. coughing, you take a sip of your drink and knock it down a notch. not that kento would want you to, since he finds your enthusiasm to chat with him so endearing. “i have family…coming. o-over the break! flying in from abroad, so it’s going to be special.”  the blonde’s brow raises with interest, and you latch onto the opportunity to speak with him further, basking in your quiet moment together. “i’m not usually one to cook, but my mother and i will be handling dinner together! so it’ll be a mix of all sorts of foods. traditional and from our home country too.” 

nanami slips his work phone away in order to give you his full attention. “that sounds…wonderful,” he settles on saying. he wonders what your family is like, if they’re as shy and endearing as you or louder like that of the dynamics at the office. he imagines you surrounded by love, by laughter and warmth… and can’t help but yearn for the same. “i do miss home cooking, christmas in new york isn’t quite the same as japan.”

“t-then you’re welcome to spend christmas with us!” you blurt before your mind can even process what you’ve said. now you really must be drunk, or tipsy at the very least. who just invites their coworkers over to their house without getting to know them first. “we’ll have more than enough to fix you a plate…if you’d like,” despite your overexcited blunder, you remain hopeful that nanami will accept your invitation or at least get the hint. that you want to know him better and spend more time with him. 

but nanami doesn’t take the hint, he can’t seem to figure out why you’d want to spend time with him outside of work, and so, puts up a respectful boundary. nanami smiles and puts down the coffee he’d been drinking. “i wouldn’t want to impose on your time with family.” 

you frown, the stacked bricks of your excitement coming tumbling down. “kento that’s not what i meant—“ 

“look!” gojo cuts in, slurring from across the room as he points a shaky finger at the two of you by the tree. “they’re standin’ un’da the mistletoe!”

both yourself and nanami look up in disbelief to find yourselves standing under calculatedly placed mistletoe — no doubt due to the meddling of your boss. though you’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to kiss nanami, it was more of question as to whether or not he wanted to kiss you.

“gojo, you’re drunk. and i really should be getting back to work.” kento insists, clearing his throat and immediately looking away from you with a bashful blush. you’re perfect, and darling, and to kiss you really would make kento’s day…but he’d never want to make you uncomfortable or put you on the spot like this. “i have budget reports for your meeting in a few hours.” 

“fuck the reports, don’t you wanna kiss the pretty lady?” nanami looks to you, shying away from the conversation and squirming under the sudden attention of the office party-goers. “i wouldn’t want to make her uncomfortable.” 

“i-i wouldn’t be.” comes your hushed whisper. 

nanami coughs to clear his throat, flustered by you. “are you sure?” 

having had enough of your back and forth, dancing around one another like two teenagers confessing to each other on white day — gojo steps in, forcing his drunk yet authoritarian hand. “come on nanamin,” the white haired man drawls impatiently. “if you don’t kiss her! i will!” 

“no!” you and nanami bark adamantly in unison — causing gojo to smirk and stagger happily while megumi and yuuji hold him up.

 “then go ahead and kiss. or i’ll have to fire you.” 

the idea of losing your job over a trivial christmas tradition is enough to spook you into agreeing. that and you couldn’t imagine kissing satoru gojo… the thought makes you gag to yourself. “fine,” nanami grunts before looking to and addressing you next, “do you mind?” 

you nod once, breath shaky. “it’s okay.” 

“where are you most comfortable being kissed?”

“um, i haven’t… i’ve not had my first yet so…” 

“ah, i see. i won’t do anything that makes you uncomfortable then.” hearing the news makes something weird… stir within the blonde’s firm chest. being your first kiss, his co-worker’s first kiss is an appealing thought — almost a little twisted and selfish for him. to have that honour, to be the one you would give it to, makes his head spin. 

gojo cute through his train of thought, however. “god, would you too hurry it up!”

nanami rolls his eyes at his boss (which would have gotten anyone else fired.) but let’s the corners of his pink lips quirk up into a subtle smile directed at you, and only you. cautiously, he leans down as though not to spook you like a deer in the woods, and takes your hand in his larger and more calloused one. “sorry about this.” he hums quietly, the rough pad of his thumbs traversing through the ridges of your knuckles. 

“i-it’s fine.” you repeat your earlier sentiment, holding your burning breath as kento drags the back of your hand up to his lips. dark brown eyes meet even darker ones — your gentle gazes meeting in the middle as the tensions rise within the conference room. your entire body melts like butter in a pan and your heart bursts out your chest with the crescendo of the christmas music in the background when kento nanami presses a soft chaste kiss to the back of your hand.

your kiss under the mistletoe. 

once he breaks eye contact and snaps out of it — nanami is quick to announce is departure, covering up his flustered expression. “now, i really must be getting back to work. thank you for the party gojo,  kids,”  he nods at you softly with an utterance of your name and leaves not long after, leaving you with a flurry of butterflies in your tummy. 

leaving you a sheepish, warm mess because while you had intended to ask nanami out and failed, you still managed to get somewhat of a kiss. 

you press your hand to your lips, feeling the warmth of kento’s lips embedded into the skin there. somehow, you find it within yourself to ignore gojo's whine for a proper mistletoe liplock in the background — choosing to focus on the lingering touch left by your crush.

“how about the receptionist, she’s into you!” you hear yuuji suggest, earning a cheer from your stupid silver haired boss. 

the three interns plus gojo disappear from the party after that, while you remain stuck in place like a statue made of stones— repeating the kiss in your head over and over again, in your thoughts drowning in images of kento nanami. 

ATTEMPT #TWO - THE SECRET SANTA.

“good morning, kento!”

“good morning to you too,” 

bristling from nanami’s warm greeting (as well as him calling you by your first name), you shuffle into the seat beside him with cold cheeks and bright eyes — doing your best to quietly shift out of your winter attire to make sure you don’t disturb the rest of the conference room. you’ve just snuck into the team meeting for Gojo Corp’s annual secret santa. this year would be your first time taking part and it took a hell of a lot of bribing (not really, just some locally made daifuku and the number of the receptionist gojo might be crushing on) to convince your boss to give you nanami for the special festive event. 

picking out a gift for your blonde haired and stoic presenting crush proved difficult at first. you already knew that kento spent a lot of time at the office, working hard and dedicating himself to hours of paperwork — but that wasn’t exactly useful to know when it came to gift giving. however, after weeks of gathering intel by tapping into whatever office buzz nanami was involved in and sharing short exchanges with him by the coffee cart outside of Gojo Corp, you’ve managed to learn two things about kento nanami.

one, his appreciation for something homemade or cooked — like the quaint family owned bakery not too far from the office. 

and two, his dream destination. the one place that he’s always wanted to vacation to — Kuantan, Malaysia. 

now you couldn’t exactly afford to just splurge and buy him a ticket over there, not to mention there was a considerate budget placed on gifts…but what you could do is bring nanami’s favourite things to the office. while gojo sets out the rules for staff, you gently place your carefully wrapped presents on the table before you, again, trying to avoid making a ruckus with the crinkling wrapping paper. 

“you’re a little later than usual.” nanami comments to you in a low tone, having been watching you this entire time. 

he would feel weird saying it out loud, but he notices that you’re always early into the office — clicking in around twenty minutes to nine every day and that you take your time in setting up your desk for the day. as though you have a routine to calm your anxieties.

“i had to stop by somewhere for a last minute gift.” you grin after a hushed quip. and nanami can’t help but find it contagious. you’re a warm ray of sunshine to him — one that he can’t help but want to bask under and be near, especially during this winter cold. you make kento feel at peace with your calm aura. the way you speak so tenderly and kindly. as he turns his attention back to a blabbering gojo, he finds himself growing jealous of whoever received your gift. whoever it is, he hopes that they appreciate your thoughtfulness.

after the rules are done, everything is exchanged between assigned pairs as gojo calls up who was responsible form who.

elation courses through nanami’s veins once he learns that his secret santa was you —  happy to know that he is about to be on the receiving end of your perfectly wrapped presents. 

“i hope you like them,” you bleat shyly, passing him the leopard print-covered gifts. the very sight makes him grin, since the paper matches his usual work tie.  

the blonde takes his time unwrapping each layer of paper — as if he doesn’t want to ruin all the hard work you put into presenting this perfectly for him. a strong wave of fondness crashes over your co-worker once the first present is revealed. nanami’s favourite, freshly baked sandwich from the japanese bakery downtown. the one he visits every day, and the same sandwich he orders every time. the one that fills him with nostalgia and reminds him of home. 

the next gift is even more thoughtful, and he fights off the urge to clutch his chest — as if cupid has shot an arrow right through his heart and made it yearn for you and your kindness. it’s a crocheted water lily, like those found in the Taman Gelora park in Malaysia. the same park that nanami has always wanted to go to. 

there’s a little postcard of the location too — with a note scribbled in your precise handwriting, wishing nanami a happy christmas. he tries not to dwell on the heart signed next to your name.

your saccharine voice slices through kento’s wild and appreciative thoughts delicately and he spares you a glance, watching your features as they illuminate with happiness from his reaction. you can tell that he likes your gift, and that fills you both with joy. “i heard from a little bird that you’ve always wanted to take a trip to Kuantan. and while i couldn’t get you a ticket myself, i figured these would be the next best thing. plus some food for your flight.” you joke while nanami thumbs the ridges of the yarn making up his water lily gift. 

he laughs then, remembering how yuuji had grilled him about his dream vacation weeks back. it must have been for you. 

you’re so selfless and thoughtful, it still blows the blonde office man’s mind that you would have gone through the trouble of getting him such a gift. most times, colleagues at Gojo Corp settle for fancy chocolates or snooty vouchers for department stores… but you used so much of your own time and effort to create something that kento nanami would truly appreciate. it drives him mad that he can’t seem to figure out why. why would you do something so nice for him? 

“i wish i could have gotten you something in return.” he mumbles fondly.

“i don’t need anything from you kento,” you say sweetly, making his heart race as you put your hand over his. “i appreciate you and you’re my friend. i don’t need anything more.” you figure now is a bad time to confess to him, in front of everyone. though you might have chosen the wrong words — because while you do want more from nanami, he now thinks that you don’t, pulling away from you slightly. “i… i appreciate everything you do for the company. a-and i like spending time with you. being your friend.” 

you facepalm internally, knowing you could have worded yourself better — but the realisation comes a little too late, for nanami is already pulling away from you, his once soft smile falling into place with the harsh lines of a frown. “thank you for the gifts,” he says, a little colder. now that he’s figured out why you truly made him those gifts. you see nanami as a friend, a good one. nothing more, like he had secretly hoped. “i must be getting back to work.” 

“o-oh but kento—“ he looks down at you icily, you have no idea why he’s being so cold. he hasn’t a clue either, it’s not like you know of his affections or fondness towards you. you thought that calling yourselves  friends would be just fine… at least until you found the confidence to confess properly. “nanami…did i offend you? i didn’t mean to pry with your gifts! i just wanted them to be perfect—“

“—you’re fine. just… duty calls. paperwork.” 

“oh, right.” you reply, weak and defeated, thinking that he’s mad at you. rejecting you again. “good luck nanami…”

“thanks,” he mumbles. “for this, and the gift.” 

“you’re welcome,” you say, mostly to yourself but before you can say more he’s disappeared from the conference room and gone back to his cubicle. 

ATTEMPT #THREE - THE EVE OF CHRISTMAS.

as mentioned before, your boss isn’t exactly the serious type.

satoru gojo is silly and often irresponsible in regards to work. he’s had a lot to deal with and a lot to learn, he covers his mistakes with charms and smiles, but he’s learning. and when it comes down to it, satoru cares for the company, the office and most importantly —  his staff.

which is why he makes it a rule that no one in his main team should work over the christmas period — with no exceptions. 

of course, the ever-dedicated kento nanami has always found a loop-hole in avoiding the festive rule and his manager’s simple christmas wish. which is why, much to your chargin, satoru has meddled a little bit and sent you into the office to send nanami home. usually you wouldn’t mind the opportunity to speak with your crush, but after your second rejection from him in such a short space of time, you’re not so sure your little heart can take seeing the man before the holidays. 

you’d agreed to satoru’s request nonetheless, your family didn't arrive until tomorrow and you couldn’t live with yourself if you let kento work through the night. you still had feelings for him after all. 

when you arrive at your office, it’s dark and dim — matching the evening and it’s weather outside. you assume that any cleaning staff have already gone home, instructed by nanami who would also hate to keep people behind on Christmas Eve. it seems like him to offer to clean up after himself.

rounding the corner, you spot him in the conference room, tucked away by the tree from your christmas party as he taps away at his work laptop — no doubt finishing the Q3 report. you push past the glass door and make your way inside, tugging your scarf, hat and coat off while you watch nanami work. you hang them all up on a nearby coat rack.

“i know you’re there,” he speaks into the dark silence. “is that you, satoru? i’m not going home.” 

“actually, satoru sent me in here to make sure you weren’t working on Christmas Eve.” you respond in an even tone, ignoring the slash of hurt over your heart when nanami fails to even spare you so much as a glance upon hearing your dulcet voice. 

he instead scoffs, returning to his work. “tell him that i’m fine. i don’t need to be babysat. i know when to take a break.” kento doesn’t why he’s being so harsh with you, it’s not like you knew of his feelings. calling him your friend had been a token of kindness, but he let his rationality slip away and acted out because… what? he was afraid of your rejection?

despite his mean words, you stand your ground and refuse to leave kento alone. “i figured you might say that, so i bought you some food. these are cookies from the bakery that you like and they should keep you going,” you rummage in your tote for a small of cookies — pushing them across the large conference table for your stubborn blond co-worker. “the girl that works there is sweet. maybe we should go sometime, we can take a break from your work and have some cold turkey sandwiches ahead of Christmas Day—“

“if i wanted sweets i would have called up that meddling boss of ours, satoru,” nanami seethes, losing his patience. the more he looks at you, those big brown eyes and your soft, beautiful face, the more hurt he feels, the more nauseated he feels knowing that you might not like him the way he likes you. as  just friends, instead of something more. “why are you here?” 

you blink back your suprise. “w-what?” 

“don’t you have family to be spending the night with?”

“i do it’s just… i worry about you, nanami. you work too hard, it’s christmas.” 

“i really, really would like to finish the report so i can go home.” 

your face scrunches up with rage and using that same fury, you march over the blonde man in three short strides — grabbing his chair and whirling him around to face you. you slam his laptop closed with enough power to shatter the damn thing, fixing nanami to look at you. ”what is wrong with you?” 

“pardon?” 

“i’ve… i’ve been trying all month to show you how much..how much i care about you and how much i like you. but it’s like you don’t even see me.” your voice warbles despite how angry you are, tears threatening to spill over the edge of your lashes. everything hurts, you don’t know what you’ve done to make nanami resent you in the way that he does now. perhaps if you were different, more confident and self assured maybe he would notice your gestures and implications. maybe he would like you back.

you wish for the darkness of the office to swallow you whole and make you disappear as you and nanami do nothing but stare blankly at each other. however, the lights on the obnoxious christmas tree continue to flash in the corner — illuminating the crystal tears clumped in your lashes and the slope of your features with a perfect golden glow. nanami sees you, he always has…but what good would a man like him be to a girl like you? sure, he wants to settle down, wants christmas with someone he loves, somewhere comfortable where he doesn’t have to worry about a thing — let alone money.

…but nanami is a tough nut to crack, he keeps to himself so much that even now you’re struggling hard to get him to speak his truth, and his feelings. he wouldn’t want you to give up trying even while he struggles to open up. 

“i see you.” finally, kento finds his confidence and admits his truth to you. “i always have.” 

he stands from his seat, towering over you and you stumble back. “do you? i’ve tried so hard… to tell you…”

the blonde leans down to your height and your words trail off, overwhelmed by him. “to tell me what?” 

he prays that you can’t hear the pound of his heart against his ribcage or the blood rushing through his ears… but nanami has never stepped out of line or taken a risk and if he doesn’t, break the rules, he could risk losing the one good thing at this god forsaken place. “that i… that i like you. kento. i-i’m fond of you.” you exhale through your words, succumbing to everything that makes up kento nanami. his scent, gingerbread and fresh mint, makes you dizzy, his proximity makes your world tilt on its axis and you’re so nervous that you latch onto the collar of his dark blue dress shirt to keep yourself steady. 

nanami seizes the opportunity to pour into you every emotion that he can’t bring himself to say. his large hands settle gingerly on the small of your back and his warm breath coasts over your fleshly lower lip, as if to ask for permission to kiss you properly. “may i?” comes his timbre voice, equality as shaky as yours had been earlier. you shake your head ‘yes’, giving nanami your consent to press his lips against your own in a life changing kiss. the action is tender, guiding you in all of the right places where you lack experience. the fists you'd formed in the collar of his shirt loosen the more that nanami works your lips in his gentle kiss — warming the frost over your little heart. 

“i’m quite fond of you too,” he says your name after finally giving you the room that you need to breathe and kento brushes a thumb over your the swell bottom lip before he kisses you gently again. “i’m sorry i didn’t say so earlier.” 

still holding onto him, a breathy chuckle escapes you as if you’re in shock. “w-what…what changed your mind? i thought you didn’t like me like that…”

“it wasn’t my mind that needed changing. it was the way i saw how you felt about me… i should have asked instead of assuming you only saw me as a friend. that was my mistake,” nanami explains carefully, choosing his words wisely. “you’ve been fair and kind to me, and i failed to give you the same grace due to my own doubts. i admire you, and should have confessed to you sooner but i—“ 

“but you wanted to finish working first, i get it.” you giggle and lean up to peck kento on the lips, stealing the words right out of his mouth. “just… please talk to me next time. i thought you were mad at me.” 

your blonde co-worker, crush and now.. partner? (that was to be decided) gives your waist an apologetic squeeze — acknowledging his mistakes. “i owe you that much,” he replies warmly, “now how about those turkey sandwiches you were talking about?” nanami questions you awkwardly, in his own charming way of asking you out for a date on christmas eve. 

after packing up and like a gentleman, he retrieves your scarf, hat and coat from the nearby coat rack by the door and gently pulls them over you one by one. like he cares, like he might even love you. he even zips you up to protect your cheeks from the bitter cold. nanami folds his own coat over the bend of his and grasps your hand firmly in his — keeping you close as you walk out of the office, a newly formed christmas couple. 

somewhere off in the distance, the boss of the Gojo Corp office watches with a sly grin. while satoru might not have gotten his holiday romance, he’s glad his little plan was enough to get yourself and nanami together. 

꒰ end. — all rights reserved © tteokdoroki 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[rsatoru]

bbzzzz bzzzzzztttt...

your phone has been buzzing over the coffee table for two minutes. two minutes and 14 seconds.

sigh

you rise from the table—the very table overflowing with godforsaken paperwork the godforsaken higher-ups have assigned you to finish. you’re trying to focus and get everything finished as soon as possible, but the obnoxiously person trying to call you on the phone wouldn’t let you right now.

͏͏⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀toruru !! ^_^ (ate ur cookies) (do not answer.)

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀⠀⠀ringing . . . ✆ ⠀⠀⠀ 1:27 pm⠀⠀⠀

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀answer ၊ decline

of course, it’s no other than your idiot of a boyfriend

clicking the answer button, cause who are you to resist him anyways? . . . “satoru.” you say unimpressed. “baby!! :D” the cheerful voice on the other side exclaims.

“aren’t you supposed to be on a mission right now?”

“uhuh,” satoru scoffs, “’m on the same mission you forced me to go because you hate me so much!”

“satoru, sigh it’s your job, your responsibility. you can’t just ditch an order from principle yaga because you wanna stay at home cuddling me.” you respond

“can’t a man just have some quality time with his dearest girlfriend in peace?” satoru whines over the phone

“toru, baby,”

“fine.. :(” oh, you were so sure you could almost hear his smile turn into a frown. that being said, “why’d you call?” asking, looking back over at your unfinished paperwork, oh the higher ups might just beat your ass.

dating satoru means also having to deal with his long phone calls. you’re aware you could easily just hang up on him, but unfortunately for you, sometimes you don’t even realize you got too caught up in the moment. you love him too much, too much you can effortlessly handle his obnoxiously long phone calls—and he doesn’t even talk about anything important or necessary! and you think, maybe, you’re just as down bad as he is for you.

“oh yeah! heh, sorry babe, your voice made my mind go blank.” — “you’ll never guess what kind of technique these so called first grade cursed spirits have!” and he asks you to turn your camera on—in which you did-

revealing a bunch of cats spawning and jumping everywhere “look at the kind of domain expansion this guy has!” satoru was in an innate domain with cats just swarming the area. satoru called you to show he was in an innate domain with cats just swarming the area. because he knew.

“oh my gosh.” you say in shock. staring at whatever is happening in your screen. “toru toru! bring me one! maybe that one or or-” the cats were so cute. you absolutely loved cats. you adored them, each and every one you’ve ever seen. whether they were strays on the street or pampered pets, they were all just so adorable.

because he knew you absolutely loved cats.

these cats though, were aggressive. aggressively cute though—trying so hard to scratch your boyfriend which was impossible, all attacks were effortlessly blocked by his infinity.

“uhhh, uhhh.. no can do sweets. just look at these sly pussies trying to scratch my glorious face! i can’t let them do that to your even-more-glorious face. they’re dangerous! can’t let them hurt my baby.” he responses.

“uhm, no. you’re just rambling satoru. they’d love me.” you retort. satoru was more of a dog person—he doesn’t know such shit about cats. he doesn’t like them. but you teach him anyways; how to properly hold them, what kind food you shouldn’t feed them, etc etc,

and he actually listens.

“no baby! anyways, you know that guy over there? yeah, him. he can create pizza with cursed energy and throw it at me! it’s surprisingly strong to be fair.. but y’know they stand no chance against me.” there goes his ego as always.

“anyways—what kind of pizza do you want? tell me which toppings and i gotchu baby.”

“so you’re telling me, you’d rather get me pizza, imbued with cursed energy, which you say is pretty strong, but not cats?” you hiss, raising a brow over the phone.

“uhhhh... yeah? ( ' ⩊ '𖦹)”

this is so dumb tbh but i jst had pizza for dinner i couldn’t not think about my glorious king

[list4r]

Satoru loves to touch you. It’s not always in a sexual manner either. He just has to have his hands or any type of body part touching you or he’ll go crazy.

If you don’t let him or refuse to for whatever reason he’ll pout. Like he’ll seriously frown like a big baby, knowing you’ll always give in at the end. It’s what he’s good at “It’s my survival tactic baby, don’t hate.”

He can be a real asshole about it too. That man is basically a human freezer, he can’t ever get warm no matter what. It gets worse at night time when you two are in bed together. It’s always when you finally get comfortable you feel his cold ass toes on your legs. “Satoru! Get them things off of me, feels like fucking Antarctica.” You complain to him only to hear his snickering and he pulls you closer, not letting you go.

When the two of you are out together maybe doing some shopping or just spending quality time together you better believe he’s not letting go. If you two (mostly you because he sucks at it) are grocery shopping he just has to have his hand gripping the end of your shirt.

“Satoru let go for a minute? You’re too close k can’t walk correctly.”

“No can do, gotta make sure you don’t get lost in here.”

“I’m a grown woman Satoru and we’ve been to this exact store a million times.”

“You never know.”

In the morning when you’re busy making breakfast humming alone to your favourite song. Here comes Satoru quietly sauntering in with a mischievous look on his face. “Gooooood morning to the love of my life, what are you making?” He asks before slipping his bare hands under your shirt, cupping the mounds of flesh as his rests his head on his shoulder.

“Fucking- Satoru your hands are ice cold, get them off me!”

“Baby that’s why I’m trying to warm them up! Plus doesn’t this make you feel more connected together?”

“No. You need to remove you hands I need to cook.”

“I’m tryin to cook my hands too so it’s a win win.”

You scoff and shake your head. “You’re impossible.”

[mentally-gone002]

spencer reid headcannons because i said so!!!!! these are kinda dating headcannons but some general stuff too

a/n: plot twist guys im bored… again… (i’m unemployed and can’t drive so im stuck at home all day) (update: i wrote this two days ago and now i have my license)

———————————————————————

spencer doesn’t catch onto how relationships work very fast 

^^^ it’s very much so a “trust the process” with him but when he’s got it he’s good 

he likes contact but also hates it at the same time

he has certain borders he doesn’t want crossed so like… if you’re dating him linking pinkies happens more often than holding hands

memorizes things abt you just because (the color of pen you like most or your fav lip balm, just little details)

takes him a minute to get used to like romantic stuff too

so if you surprise him with like… dinner that’s somewhat romantic at home he’s like 

“why’re there so many candles?” 

or something like that because he’s smart but dumb at the same time 

he doesn’t laugh often so when he does you’re all surprised and it perplexes him 

i feel like his love languages would be like… words of affirmation and quality time 

like yes he’ll get all nervous if you compliment him but he rlly likes it because i feel like he craves it in a way

quality time to him would consist of just being in the same room 

^^^ he’d be reading and you’d be finishing work from the day and the only noise is like breathing and page turning and computer keys and he’s just loving it

spencer seems like the guy who would get butterflies in the palms of his hands and he gets like sensory overload from that sometimes 

so when you make him happy or flustered he’s gonna be digging his nails into his palm to make the feeling go away because he’s never felt like that before????

doesn’t listen to music very often but he does have a few cds of classical or jazz (music taste is so hard to determine)

he would definitely get surprised when you try and take pictures with him 

^^^ you’ll just get your camera and sit beside him on the couch and tell him to smile and he’d be confused because there’s probably not a lot of pictures of him 

he writes you notes and leaves them on the fridge or on your nightstand 

kisses on the cheek more than on the lips 

he knows how to dance 

can’t explain it he just does lol

the bau team would find out about you by seeing both him and you out in public somewhere in DC and would sneak a picture and then ask him abt it later at work

if you work with him the whole team knows abt the relationship before you tell them or if you don’t keep it a secret they’re still like “we know” and spencer’s surprised 

goes nonverbal sometimes if somethings bothering him 

little spoon when he is okay with cuddling

he is a talker okay! so he’ll sometimes just go on and on about something and you’ll just listen because it’s CUTE

he doodles when he’s bored so sometimes he has a sticky note on his desk covered in little pictures 

^^^ morgan teases about it so spencer keeps all his drawing hidden in a drawer 

he likes to stand in the rain sometimes even though it makes his socks wet (which he hates because sensory stuff) but he likes how it makes everything smell clean 

can’t cook but he can bake because it’s just science and he’s a little nerd baby so he’s got baking in the bag

he decorates for halloween a month early and leaves decorations up until thanksgiving

phone calls>>> texts 

i feel like spencer would have tics for some reason??? like either his mouth will twitch or it’ll be smth with his hands??

he collects coffee mugs

very subtle sleeper build

loves having his hair played with

he likes cats 

teaches you chess and looses to you a few times 

he writes abt you in his letters to his mom 

^^^ when you eventually meet diana she immediately likes you

[snickerdoodie]

Any hc’s for Scott (twisters) who is only not an asshole when he’s around his s/o? Others see him being sweet to her and are like wtf why can’t be be that nice to us 🥲

No cause I’ve also been obsessed with that idea of him for so long, ahhh. He seems like such a “I care about you and you only” kinda guy and it just fuels my obsession

A/N: this is my first time ever writing anything like head canons so if it’s goofy I apologize in advance. Not proofread as usual. Also I really hope it was anything like you expected 😭. But anyway, enjoy!

Scott Miller Headcanons

Right off the bat, I think we can all agree talking is not one of Scott’s strong suits. The only times he really talks is when he’s proposing ideas to Riggs and Javi about potential deals. So when the team finds him willingly chatting with you after a day of collecting data, they all just short circuit.

Like hello?? Are they dreaming??? Wtf going on???? Like out of everybody to talk to you choose him??? And they’re not even mad they’re just..they have no clue what to think, they’ve never seen him look so at ease before lmao. There’s no permanent scowl on his face or anything, just his baritone voice mixing with your own. Ngl it creeped them out at first, they really thought the world was ending that night.

Javi’s the first to really notice the changes in Scotts demeanor around you; the quick glances, the ever so slight smiles, and even the smallest touches like his thumb rubbing over the back of your hand when he’s giving a speech, he’s seen it all.

Speaking of, I just know that Scott’s love language has got to be either words of affirmation or physical touch. He loves hearing you tell him how much he matters to you, or how you remember small things about him, it just makes him smile. For him being a not very vocal person, it’s hard for him to tell you straight up how much he cares for you. It doesn’t even have to be gentle or meaningful words, making witty comebacks to his sarcastic remarks is always enough for him.

But his way of expressing his affection is through small touches. Standing close enough to you where you can smell his cologne, brushes of his fingers to your waist or hand, overall just standing close to you. (Now that I think abt it, that’s a looot more like quality time but whatever☺️)

Anyway, back on topic cuz I’m too easily distracted. The crew really tried their hardest to get Scott to even be remotely nice to them after that. I mean if he was nice to you then he could be nice to them right? Can’t be that hard. Boy oh boy were they wrong…they literally did everything in their power. They bought him coffees on early mornings, made sure he has the nicest, or as nice as they could be, bed sheets at motels, volunteered to do his dirty work of pages and pages of paperwork, but literally nothing worked. All they ever got were blank stared nods or a grumbled ‘thanks.’ At this point they were flabbergasted. How could you get that cocky bastard to even glance at you?? Nevertheless smile at you?

They have up like 5 days after trying lmfao, it was utterly useless to try and make that man any less brooding then he is. After trying through, they realized that all their attempts didn’t go completely wasted.

Scott brought you hot drinks on the chilly nights and morning as you two sat together in the crappy hotel rooms. Stopped smacking his gum whenever you side-eyed him a little too hard, much to everyone’s relief. Always walked you to your room after a late night to make sure you got there safe.

As much as they hated how self centered and blunt Scott was, they all secretly knew how love drunk he was about you. (Don’t bring it up to him, but they’re all secretly jealous they dont get any kind of special treatment

First head canon ask!! I do not think I did very good at it though💀💀. I had ideas in my head but they were not coming out the way I ask. But I hoped you at least liked some of it! I promise to write a better one in the future!

And as always, feel free to comment about anything you liked or didn’t like. Inbox is always open to more ideas! <3

[zairene]

misc. earth 42!miles morales bf headcanons. <3

warnings: some fluff.

author’s note: i had no idea what to write specifically so i just wanted write some random miles hcs that i had conjured up in my head. ngl this is definitely one of my weaker written pieces, but i still wanted to get it out regardless. </3

miles is very touchy. some part of his body has to always be touching yours. you both could be sitting down—his hand would be on your thigh or his arm is around your shoulder. you both necessarily don’t have to be directly next to each other. he could be sitting in at his desk, playing his game while your legs are in his lap. (he put a chair next to his so you could be comfortable.)

while cuddling, miles is big spoon. he doesn’t have any against being little spoon, he just likes feeling like he’s protecting you. but if you insist on being big spoon, he’ll cave in after you give him a kiss or two.

speaking of kisses, miles goes weak from that. his favorite places to kiss you on is either your forehead, lips or cheek. (sometimes your jawline too) he initiates kisses most of the time but whenever you do, he can’t help but melt in your arms instantly every time.

miles always indulges in hearing you talk. he could never pinpoint it, but he was in love with your voice. you could be over the phone or in person. you could be rambling about something but then you just stop because you notice the way he’s just looking at you. he hadn’t said anything since you started talking, he just was staring at you with admiration. you would ask him if he was listening to you, and he’ll reply with a, “sí, estoy escuchando.” (yes, i’m listening.) with a slight head nod.

miles is definitely a “yes ma’am” dude. if you tell him to do something, he does it. it’s honestly kinda scary how he’ll listen to your every word. you both could be in public and you notice that your shoe string is untied. you nudge him with your foot and politely ask if he could tie your shoe. he’ll literally bend down and tie it, no questions asked. his mom could walk up in his room, saying something along the lines of, “miles, what are you doing? esta habitación es un desastre!” (this room is a mess!) and tells him to immediately clean it up before she takes his things and not allow you over until he does. after she walks out, he’d shrug and say that his room isn’t even dirty, but once you tell him to clean it he’ll immediately get up and do it.

miles’ love language is quality time. he loves spending every hour of every day with you. and when he’s not with you, he’s in not in a particularly good mood. (he refuses to talk to anyone but his parents) not saying he cannot live without you, no that’s not the case. he‘s just a grumpy kid who just misses his girlfriend. he hates school weeks but loves weekends. and whenever it’s summer, he’s just glad he can spend it with you.

TAGLIST :: @kisamekiss @kazuminari @planetlunaa @mypimpademia @megurulvr @dreampurpledreams @chinieh @naijagrl @looking4chanel @pixieplush17 @jogeto @laylasbunbunny @jamies-cumslut @sapphicshav

TAGLIST FORM

[reiding-writing]

building lego flowers with Spencer? :> he always gets reader flowers and they get sad when they wilt so he surprises them with the lego set and they spend a cozy afternoon together building them and drinking tea?

immortal [ s.r ]

Summary:

Spencer bought you flowers before every case he went on. But coming to your apartment after the case was finished and seeing that they’d wilted made his happiness to see you wilt along with their petals. Luckily for him, he’d seemed to find a more ‘immortal’ solution.

WARNINGS: n/a

pairing: boyfriend!spencer x gn!reader

genre: fluff

wc: 1.2k

masterlist!!

a/n: this request is so cute and it is also a preemptive apology for another request that i’m working on that is, you guessed it, full of angst, love you guys <333

Spencer would always buy you a bouquet of flowers before going off on a case. Always.

The minute his phone buzzed to call him into the office he was off to his local flower shop to buy you a bouquet to remind you of his love for you even in his physical absence.

The floral arrangement was different every time. Each bouquet fit with a handwritten card explaining the flora and its symbolism.

But by the time he return they’d often be wilted, an unfortunate reminder of just how much time he has to spend away from you.

And so he arrives at your apartment with an agenda, no longer able to stand the sight of flowers that should’ve been discarded days and sometimes weeks before when he returns to see you after a case is over.

You always tell him that it’s because they remind you of him, of how much he loves you even when you can’t see him. But the drooping flowers and brown stems that always greet him upon his return, whilst it might not bother you, made his shoulders slump with guilt about not spending enough of his time with you.

He knocks three times on your apartment door, an unusual cadence that you immediately recognise as you rush to let him in, clad in a pair of fluffy pyjamas with a bright smile on your face.

You capture him in a hug as soon as you open the door, a kiss planted fervently on his cheek.

Your smile doesn’t falter at his lack of his usual flowers when he arrives unannounced at your door, but you can’t help the small quirk of your eyebrow as you lean back to give him back some personal space.

“You’re off on another case already?” Your tone betrays the small amount of disappointment you’re feeling. He’d only returned the day before yesterday, promising you a museum date on the weekend to finally spend some more quality time together. Looks like you’d have to reschedule.

Spencer can’t stop himself from breaking into a sheepish grin at your greeting, but also has an air of determination about him, his left hand securely held behind his back as his right rubs your arm lovingly.

“No actually…” He can see the flicker of disappointment in your eyes morph into confusion, and he takes the opportunity to pull you towards him and press his lips to yours, hoping to kiss any lingering negativity in your mind into non-existence. “Can I come in?”

“Of course baby yeah,” You tug him into your apartment by his wrist, a strange rattling noise emanating from behind his back as he moves to kick your door closed behind him. “What’s that?”

You tilt yourself to look behind him, and he blocks your view as he turns himself in tandem with you. “You know how much I hate seeing the flowers I buy you wilted when I come to see you,”

“So… I… I thought… I think I might have found a solution?” He takes a second to figure out how to word his sentence, pulling out a rattling box from behind his back, four printed lego flowers decorating the front of it to indicate what’s inside.

Your eyebrows furrow a little further as your eyes examine the box before lighting up with an air of eagerness as you take the box in your hands to look at it in more detail. "You bought me lego flowers?"

“I did,” He chuckles, “I found them in the Target by my apartment, they cant replace real flowers but they’re a good substitute.” His beautiful hazel eyes are warm as he looks at you in amusement and the soft tone to his voice is calming.

“Now I know lego flowers isn’t what you were expecting from me… and I’m sorry if you were looking forward to a regular bouquet… but I promise you… these will never wilt.”

"They’re perfect Spence…" You give him a downturned smile at his thoughtfulness, how he’d found a way to immortalise the flowers he gave you.

You press your lips to his cheek to extend your gratitude, and the warmth that spreads through his entire being is something that words can't quite describe. "I'm glad you like them... " A genuine smile lights up his face as he wraps both arms around you in a tight hug, his heart fluttering in his chest. "I'm glad you exist."

You can’t help but chuckle at his final sentence, wrapping your arms securely around his torso with the box still in hand to return his hug, the lego pieces rattling with your movements. "I’m glad you exist too-"

At your words, he buries his face into your neck and sighs softly as he inhales your scent. It calms his nerves, and it makes him forget all the stress of work. Instead, all he can focus on is the warmth coming from your body and the feeling of your heartbeat against him. It’s a feeling he never wants to let go of.

"You’re going to build them with me right?" Your head leans against his shoulder as you essentially just stand in your doorway, completely intertwined with one another.

"Of course I am..." His voice is slightly deep and his tone gentle, "What sort of gentleman would give someone lego flowers without building it with them?" He chuckles before adjusting his arms to make himself more comfortable against yours.

"These lego flowers should be built together," He smiles, "And I want to do that with you."

“Good!” You release yourself from his embrace and press the box to his chest. “Clear off the coffee table and i’ll make us some tea,”

Your enthusiasm is infectious, his smile only growing as you retreat into your kitchen and leave him to set up.

You spend the rest of the afternoon huddled around your coffee table, meticulously assembling the four lego flowers whilst Spencer explained them to you.

He turned a newly finished pink lotus in his hands before gently placing it inside the glass vase usually reserved for the bouquets he would buy you. “Lotus flowers, or Nelumbo nucifera, symbolise strength, resilience and rebirth,”

The plastic makes a small clinking sound as it collides with the bottom of the vase. “They are also a staple of purity, as despite growing from murky freshwater ponds, there are no stains of the flower’s petals, usually a bright white or a pale pink.”

You nod enthusiastically at his explanation as you place your own finished flower into the vase alongside his, a bright synthetic floral arrangement slowly developing.

This new form of flowers doesn’t stop Spencer from buying you a bouquet before every case he goes on.

Except now, each arrangement is joined not only by a small card, but also a box with the lego replication of whichever flora he chooses, adding to your lego arrangement one by one until it’s more extravagant than any organic bouquet could ever hope to be.

The plastic flowers prove immortal beyond any normal flower’s capability.

A perfect mirror of his love for you.

One that would never wilt.

[ficnation]

Chapter 3: Splattered Brains

Series: “Eat Your Heart Out” Pairing: Hannibal Lecter x Female! Reader x Will Graham Word count: 4,6k+ Warnings: canon-typical warnings A/n: Plot twist—I couldn't wait. Enjoy it, my darlings. (unedited)

Main Masterlist || Hannibal Masterlist

PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER

Will looks through the peephole before opening the door, his entire body tense. He glances back at you apologetically, and you know he wants to continue where you left off. You want more too, but you understand—there’s the world outside, with its mysteries and its demands, and you both have to confront it.

The woman on the other side of the door is someone you don’t really recognize. Her face rings a bell somewhere in the back of your head, but you can’t say for sure you’ve met her before. She doesn’t seem like a person that would linger in your memory for long.

“Will,” the woman acknowledges him, red lips pressed into a thin line.

“Alana,” he responds, his tone flat and devoid of any sympathy. “What brings you here?” 

Will’s face is frozen in a state of neutrality, neither annoyed nor pleased by the woman’s presence—it’s impassive. A tiny part of you wonders if he’s ever looked at you with this much disinterest.  You know he doesn’t have it in him, he loves you with his entire being, but the idea makes a sour grimace crawl onto your face.

There’s no happy greeting between them, and it’s selfishly comforting even though it shouldn’t be. You don’t know her at all, yet she seems to be the polar opposite of what you stand for. 

Alana’s eyes flit across the room, landing on you for the first time, and as her gaze lingers, she raises her eyebrow. Her face has a timeless quality, sharp angles, and beautiful, expressive eyes. But something about her doesn’t sit right with you. That look she sends you as if she’s inspecting you, trying to analyze you—you hate it.

“Don’t ask me that question when you already know the answer to it,” she says, her tone just as cold and detached as Will’s. “I’m here for a reason, Will. And the less you drag this out, the better.”

You notice Will’s fists clench at her words, you take his hand in yours, dragging the pads of your fingers across his white knuckles. He relaxes under your soothing touch. You take a step closer to him, pressing yourself against his shoulder.

“Just get to your point,” Will says, his coldness making the situation all the more tense. “What do you want from me?”

Alana stares at your entwined hands then her eyes meet yours again, and Will notices how her attention is immediately pulled solely to you—as if everything else is bathed in a thick fog. You notice how her lips slowly curve downward, just a bit. You think she might be envious.

She bites the inside of her cheek, proving you right. She’s jealous. You can’t help but smirk at this realization. Will glances at you, asking wordlessly for an explanation, because whatever game this is, he’s clearly not in the loop. You don’t give him what he wants this time.

“I will give you some privacy then,” you suggest, whistling at the dogs to follow you outside. You don’t have to call for them twice, as they run toward the door, waggling their tails. “Just don’t take too long. I don’t want to keep Crawford waiting.”

Before Will can object, the dogs dash out the door, and you follow in their steps, shutting it behind you. You know you did the right thing by giving them some space. How she treated Will was unforgivable, but he has to fight this one battle by himself—if you stayed there by his side, you’d probably bash her head against the wall. Not today. This fight has to be his.

You look over at the door, and you think you can hear their voices through the walls, but you’re not entirely sure. After a few moments, the door opens and Alana storms out. She doesn’t even look at you, she just turns on her heel and walks away, leaving Will behind.

You lean against the railing of the porch, the dogs snuggling up against your calves for pets and scratches—something you never deny them. It’s a moment of peace in a world full of chaos, and you can’t help but enjoy it all—even the chill bite of the winter air. It’s refreshing after spending all night and morning with Will, whose body radiated so much heat, and who left you breathless every time he was close.

He steps out on the porch, and you turn to face him, confusion written across your features. The man only shakes his head, staring at her retreating back. You don’t pry, and he doesn’t tell. There’s a wordless understanding between the two of you already—he’ll tell you when he’s ready, and his emotions are no longer an overwhelming susurration.

Will takes his place at your side, elbows leaning on the wooden balustrade. Both of you watch in silence as Alana Bloom walks down the driveway, soon disappearing from your view. 

“You don’t like her much, huh?” you ask, voice laced with irony.

You don’t really expect an answer, so he only rolls his eyes. But there is a hint of sadness in them, a tiny sign of his own disappointment, at himself, her—all of it. He takes your hand in his and leans forward to kiss your icy-cold cheek.

He pulls away then, his gaze fixed on you. “We should get going,” he says quietly. “You don’t want to keep Jack waiting.”

And he’s right. You’ve been out here a little too long, and Jack is bound to be impatient by now. You’re sure he’s already called twice to ask you where you are.

Your cheek still tingles from the kiss, but you remain focused on the way Will’s expression shifts slightly. He’s crestfallen, there’s no denying it, and you know this conversation took a toll on him—even if he doesn’t want to admit it. He calls the dogs inside, then locks the door. You squeeze his hand, and with a sigh of resignation, the two of you head to the car.

The cold has gotten to your skin, and you can feel every pore of your body aching for warmth. The windshield is covered in a thin layer of snow, and your body shivers as you wait for Will to swipe it off with his glove-covered hand. Even though he already unlocked the car, you refuse to let him suffer in the unforgiving winter alone.

Once he’s done, he joins your side and opens the passenger door for you. The protest on the tip of your tongue dies off when he guides you inside with a steady hand on the small of your back—you comply. He closes it behind your back with a satisfied grin that doesn’t really reach his eyes. He gets in the driver’s seat and starts the car, warming it from within.

You put on the seatbelt, and relax your muscles, letting your fingers trail along the armrest and the door, enjoying the warmth against your skin. Your mind is wandering, lost in memories of the morning and the little moments you shared with Will. 

“You know…” Will starts from behind the wheel, his eyes don’t stray from the road ahead. There’s a quiet moment between you two while he considers what he has to say, and when he finally talks, he barely mumbles the words under his breath, “I was thinking…”

“About what?” You raise your eyebrow in curiosity, giving him all your attention and more.

“Well, I was thinking…” he pauses for a moment, the words struggling to leave his lips, he’s visibly tense.

You want to say something, help him find the words. It’s clear he needs a little push. So you reach up and caress his stubbled jaw—the lightest of touches—hoping the gesture can help ease him out of this nervous state.

It works. Will sucks on his bottom lip for a moment, still facing forward, but at least his face is calm now. “I’ve always been in love with you.” Even though it’s only a whisper, the confession sounds like thunder in your ears—its rumble shaking every tiny cell in your brain. “I never said it out loud until you disappeared. I regret it to this day.”

That’s all it takes for your chest to tighten and your heart to start hammering wildly. It makes you wonder if you’re on the verge of having a heart attack. You know you love this man—you know more than anyone else on this earth just how strong your feelings are for him. You were always aware that he reciprocated it—in his own intricate way, but there was no way to be absolutely certain. Hearing him say it now—gifted your mind with a blissful sense of peace.

You look at him, and you can’t find the words to respond. Nothing that comes to mind is even faintly close to what you feel for him, so you settle for a gentle squeeze of his thigh.

Will glances at you, his eyes roaming over the curve of your cheekbones, the shape of your lips, the long lashes fluttering over your eyes—you’re breathtaking. You don’t even need to respond—he knows how you feel already, and he’s just happy to have you by his side again. He’s head over heels, hopelessly and utterly—in love.

“I’ve never met anyone who made me feel the way you do,” Will continues, and the words ring out in the cramped space of the car. “Nobody has ever seen me the way you do. Nobody has ever loved me the way you do. You’ve been the only light in my darkness, the only source of hope in my life.” His voice softens with every word, and he doesn’t look at you as he talks, afraid he’ll get distracted if he does. He just needs to get it all out.

Your smile is so bright when he catches it in his peripheral vision—it could probably replace the stars at night. He takes a pause, and you wonder if all those words have made him feel better. It seems like that’s the case—he looks so much more peaceful next to you, no longer tense from holding in everything he felt.

Will chuckles, and it fills the air with a different kind of light that washes over you and makes you feel just a bit warmer. Just as you retract your hand from his thigh, his own reaches past the center console, his palm grazing your knee to find it again. He interlaces his fingers with yours, and you think you’ll die of joy, and you wish the drive in the car never had to end—you could stay like this, his hand clasped tightly to yours, forever.

Silence falls between the two of you, but you’re so close to each other that it feels like there’s no need to speak. The tension in the car is gone, and Will’s words still linger in your mind. I’ve always been in love with you…

You’re so caught up in this elation, you don’t even notice when you reach your destination. The brutalist architecture of BAU’s building makes you feel intimidated—more than you anticipated. It’s cold, uninviting. There’s also another feeling that crawls over your skin, a sense of dread, but you shake it off before it can completely take over.

Will pulls into a parking spot, turns off the engine, and faces you. “We’re here,” he says, a grim expression on his face. It’s so different from how you just saw him a mere moment ago.

You share that expression. You feel it on your face, the weight of it pressing down on your soul as you slowly realize that you’ll need to step away from the bubble of happiness you’ve been in. It’s not a bubble you would ever want to pop—so you have to leave it behind. Shut it off.

You take in the headquarters’ exterior, its harsh outlines, and the shadows it casts on the already grim streets of Quantico. Your stomach sinks. There’s a part of you that missed this place, being in the field and helping people—it used to be your dream—but now you despise it. You don’t want to go back to seeing dead bodies over and over again, hearing the murmur of their whispers that never disturb the air and never leave you in silence for too long.

“I’ll take you inside,” Will offers, but you don’t really have a say in it either way. Of course, he notices the solemnity on your face. He puts his hand on your cheek, the skin of your cold face against his warm palm warming you for a brief moment. “Are you okay?”

“No,” you answer simply. You don’t have to say anything more.

Will gently caresses your jaw, thumb brushing softly against your lower lip. His eyes are filled with concern for you. He nods slowly, his hand still on your cheek. You can’t even explain what you’re feeling right now, but he understands as much—he’s been there too.

“I know it’s not easy,” Will says softly. “But I’m sure Crawford won’t keep you there long.”

You’re about to voice your doubts, the million reasons as to why this is a terrible idea, but then you pause. You can’t seem to find them—there is no single coherent thought in your head, the stress of the day finally taking its toll on you.

Will sighs and pulls away, leaving his hand hanging in the air for a while before he finally rests it on his own thigh. He climbs out of the car, and you take a few deep breaths to try to quiet the voices inside your head. You don’t know what you need, you just know that you don’t want this.

You step out, and the silence between the two of you doesn’t go unnoticed. Will reaches out to you once again and puts a hand on your shoulder, as if he can’t decide what to do, either. He looks over your shoulder—at the towering building in the distance.

The man sighs and steps closer to you. He looks at you, eyes roaming over your face, scanning every single detail of your expression. His voice is soft, almost a whisper. “I know it doesn’t feel right being back here,” he says, his hands still resting gently on your shoulders. “But I need you to be strong, for just a few minutes. Okay? This might be important.”

You nod, willing to do anything for him—anything at all. The deep breath you take in almost makes your lungs flutter in outrage.

“That’s my girl,” he says, his voice a little softer than usual.

He pulls away finally but doesn’t let go of you entirely. His hand holds tight to your fingers, and Will starts to walk you toward the building. It’s cold, windy, and you’re not looking forward to a single second of being inside that building. You’d much better prefer to freeze here outside—maybe turn into an ice sculpture if you’re lucky.

There is an undeniable uneasiness in Will’s expression as he opens the big doors and ushers you inside. It’s a big lobby, and every person there is busy with tasks, on the phone, typing something or other away on their computers.

You see Crawford sitting on one of the couches in a corner that almost resembles a waiting room. He glances at Will, and his expression only hardens upon seeing you two together. You want to run away, but Will has a grip on your arm and doesn’t let go.

“Come with me,” Crawford says to you, his tone stern and a little annoyed, probably by the fact you’re twenty minutes late. “We need to have a long conversation.”

You share an unsure look with Will, he nods encouragingly.  You feel his hand gripping yours, and you notice how shaky you are. For a moment, you wonder what the hell you’ve signed yourself up for by coming here.

Crawford heads for the nearest elevator, not waiting for you to catch up with him. His attitude is clear—he’s annoyed, and he wants results. That’s how it’s always been, but you never got the chance to get used to it.

“I will be here when you come back,” Will promises, tentatively releasing you from his hold.

You nod in acknowledgment before following after your former boss with hurried footsteps.

It’s a tense, uncomfortable, and entirely too silent ride up to the top floor. The lights are bright, almost blinding, as the elevator rises. Crawford stands by your side, arms crossed over his chest, face expressionless. You wonder what he even needed you here for.

He walks ahead of you and takes out a keycard from one of his pockets. A moment later, he uses it to open a door in the hallway, revealing a large office. The lights inside are dim, almost cozy, and the view from the large windows is one you recognize. Crawford heads inside, telling you to follow with an exasperated sigh.

“They moved your office two more doors down the hallway,” you notice, looking around in curiosity. You hope your poor attempt at loosening the atmosphere works, even just a bit.

Once Crawford chuckles at your words, you know you succeeded. “You’ve always looked for distraction, haven’t you?”

He takes a seat behind his desk and motions for you to do the same. He spends a few moments looking you up and down with a blank expression, the kind he usually reserved for suspects at interrogation.

“Have I changed that much?”

Crawford shakes his head, a grin forming on his lips. “Not really.” He sighs and leans back in his chair, taking in the view from the nearby window. “Though you look older than I remember.”

“It’s been long eight years,” you admit with a nod. You don’t even want to think about all the new wrinkles that materialized on your face through those years.

His eyes travel over the length of your arms, and then over your face again. “I can see time’s been hard on you,” he says. You know he’s not referring to your physical appearance, and that’s what stings the most. “You haven’t had it easy, have you?”

“I managed.” You don’t give him more than that. The stories of your suffering are yours to tell when you feel ready—and you don’t.

Crawford’s lips narrow as he considers your response. He doesn’t seem to be one who accepts “I managed” as an answer. Then again, he’s never been the patient type. You’re surprised when he doesn’t question you further on the matter.

He leans forward to grab a folder from inside his drawer. “I brought you here because I wanted to talk to you about Hannibal Lecter.”

You sit up straight and lean forward in your chair. Your eyes, bright and curious, are fixed on Crawford, who seems to notice it.

“You seem interested,” he says in the same neutral tone as always. He opens the folder and starts flipping through the pages. Then, he sets the folder down and looks straight at you. “I’m here to ask you a question,” Crawford says, “and I want you to think very hard about your answer before you say it.”

The room is quiet, still, and your heart is beating frantically in your chest. The silence stretches on, and it’s so loud you can practically hear it. 

“Do you believe the Chesapeake Ripper murdered your father’s killer?”

You study Jack for a moment, noticing the gleam in his dark eyes, and the way he focuses entirely on your response. You weigh your options—you can deny it and trust that Will already has a plan to catch Hannibal, or you can tell the truth and hope your former boss doesn’t consider you delusional.

“Yes, or no?” Crawford urges you, his tone sharp. It takes all your willpower not to answer right away.

“I do,” you blurt out finally with a resigned sigh. “I think he did it.”

The man nods slowly, his lips pressed together in thought. He doesn’t seem surprised by what you told him—it almost makes you wonder how much he already knows.

“Do you have any proof?” he asks. That’s the million-dollar question, and you know your former boss isn’t asking it just to make conversation. “Do you have anything to support your claim?”

“I wasn’t allowed near the evidence.”

“Don’t bullshit me.”

You feel your stomach twisting into knots for a second, but you remain calm. Crawford is not the kind of man you can lie to, so you take a breath and say what you have to say, the words spilling out of your mouth on their own.

“I know it sounds crazy,” you admit, “and I can’t say that I expected you to believe me. But I know I’m right about this.” You can feel Crawford judging you with his relentless gaze, so you continue, “He lost far too much blood, yet there was no sign of it pooled around him. Not the amount he’s lost. It’s almost as if it was drained out of him.”

Crawford only nods. He doesn’t look at you like you’re crazy—he looks at you like he’s studying a puzzle. He considers your words, staring at your face, his expression still and unchanging. Your words feel like they’re bouncing in the air, waiting for a response, for something that isn’t silence.

“And you’re sure there’s no other plausible explanation for it?” his tone is curious, interested.

Your heartbeat quickens as you shake your head back and forth. “No, that’s impossible.”

He’s intrigued now. The man doesn’t say a word, but you can tell from the way he looks at you. Crawford looks like he almost believes you. He’s interested, alright—very interested.

“Do you think it was Hannibal?” he asks. You notice the change in his tone, and you know a yes or no response will not be enough for Crawford this time. He needs the answer to satisfy his curiosity.

He has an aloof expression on his face, the kind that never truly gives away his thoughts. It keeps you hanging in uncertainty, because you have no idea what you should tell him that could possibly sate that curiosity.

“I believe Will.” Your answer is short, devoid of anything he was hoping for.

Crawford doesn’t seem to like that answer, at least by the way his eyes narrow and the way his lips tighten into a thin line. Then, after a momentary pause, he leans forward in his chair, his elbows resting on his desk.

“And what’s this belief based on?” he asks, his tone demanding, almost a challenge. He’s expecting you to tell him, to give him a reason to believe you.

“He’s not insane, Jack.”

“What makes you think he’s sane?”

You don’t hesitate when you give your answer this time. “Because I know him.”

You notice his eyes studying you once again, his gaze not stopping on any detail of your face. He doesn’t comment on what you just told him, and doesn’t tell you whether he believes you or not. Instead, he leans back in his chair once again and sighs. He lets his fingers tap against the wood of the table for a moment, a small sound in the quiet office.

“Your father’s case will be reopened. Be prepared to be questioned again,” he says, his voice very much like the Crawford you know. “Now I need you to answer me one last question.”

“What is it?” You tilt your head, you almost look curious, as if whatever he wants to ask isn’t something that worries you. It’s a carefully built facade, and you hope he doesn’t see straight through it.

It’s an uncomfortable few moments, as Crawford takes a break from his tapping to look straight at you with those intense eyes. The wait is almost killing you—but the tension in his expression might be even more deadly. He’s thinking deeply, and whatever he’s just figured out isn’t anything that you would like to be privy to.

“I want to offer you a deal,” is all he says. He leans back, crossing his arms over his chest.

“What deal?”

Crawford takes a deep breath as if he’s been holding it in for the better part of his life.

“I want you to go back to BAU.”

“No.”

He blinks, completely caught off guard by your response. You didn’t think saying no would be that easy. He pauses before his lips form a firm line. 

“That wasn’t a request,” he says.

“Well, you can’t really force me.” You shrug your arms—not even slightly moved by the intimidating raise of his eyebrow.

“Actually, I can.”

The air around you changes. You can feel the meaning behind his threat like a heavy weight, pressing down on your skin, suffocating you. You go to breathe, but find that the air is suddenly too thin, that it’s like breathing underwater. The world around you buzzes like a lightbulb before it explodes.

You can hear the screams of your sister, her wretched sobs, her desperate begging for you to stop. The buzzing gets louder—the image of your father’s body sliding down the wall as his brains splattered over the flowery wallpaper burns alive in your mind. 

You blink once, then twice, making sure there’s no suspicion nor satisfaction on Crawford’s face. There isn’t and relief washes over you like a wave—one that’s perfect for surfing.

“You can’t.”

Crawford’s face contorts, his lips twisting into a frown. He eyes you carefully. You can tell his mind is racing, trying to come up with something to make you join his team. There’s a heavy silence between the two of you as if you could hear a pin drop. You wait carefully with your breath bated and watch your former boss, waiting to see what he’ll do.

“Do you want your sister’s case solved or not?” he taunts. So that was his leverage over you. 

It’s almost jarring to hear him mention her, to see him play this card. You take a deep breath and keep yourself calm. His thought process was on point—you had to give him that. You’d do anything for your sister and to get rid of that stormy cloud hanging over your head anytime the room was too quiet or someone dared to mention her person.

“Yes,” you agree finally, “I want her case solved.”

“Then go back to BAU. It’s your answer.”

That tone of his makes it hard not to laugh out loud. You thought it might be that simple—a yes or no, two letters of the alphabet. That didn’t apply to Jack Crawford, it seems. He wants an answer, and he will get one. A smile curls on your lips as you consider how to proceed. You’d have liked to have more leverage in terms of negotiation, but unfortunately, you have none.

“Then make me an offer worth my while.” You cross your arms over your chest and wait with a raised eyebrow.

Crawford is still the boss you know and love, albeit slightly confused by your attitude. It’s clear that this isn’t how he expected you to respond. His lips curl into a frown again, but he seems to think of something suddenly.

“I want you to join BAU as Will Graham’s partner. You’ve worked with him before, and I need you on the team,” he asserts. “I need you to look at his cases from your perspective. You will have access to all resources we have available at the bureau. That’s my offer. Take it or leave it.”

You can’t help the surprise that colors your expression now. Working with Will again, and having access to the FBI’s resources, it’s impossible to say no. Now you might have a chance against the cunning mind of Hannibal Lecter.

You don’t even hesitate as you say, “Deal.” 

Crawford’s eyes soften as he hears your answer, and you can tell he’s glad you’re not going to give him a difficult time.

“The decision is yours, then,” he says finally. Your eyes meet his. “Will you go back to BAU?” 

You nod in response, showing him the brightest of your smiles. “Absolutely.”

[hazshit-hotel-hater]

I’M STUCK ON THIS FUCKING PLANET. I’M STUCK ON THIS GODDAMN EARTH.

Tap photo for better quality

That’s right!! I’m talking even more about sinner bodies because I’m CRAZY!!! RAAHHH!! 🤪 SHES SO CRAZY WE CANT TAKE HER ANYWHERE!! 😝 it’s 3 in the morning and I can’t stop thinking about this goddamn TV.

I think Vox is genuinely the most fucked up character in this rewrite currently. Not really morally fucked up, there’s definitely worse people, but physical alterations in hell out of the main cast he definitely has it the worst. In my last post I talked about how Angel formed in hell and I want to go back to this because Vox did not form in hell as a TV or even a robot at all. He got formed on the road after dying in a car crash and was literally just this fucked up clump of wires and metal panels and had gross little robot hands and he had to make everything else himself and wait for his body to adjust to it, so he literally cannot regenerate normally. He didn’t even have a face yet or screen of any kind, just a little camera to see out of. If his screen shatters he needs to get a new one or if his body breaks he needs to get it repaired, thats why he’s able to upgrade his body and stuff.

And like yeah some tech sinners do just form as robots but Vox just is a fucking mess and I think about it all the time and thats why his demon form is all fucked up like that and I think thats partially another reason he hates Alastor’s ideals so much sometimes because hes like “technology bad!” even though he literally is also partially a tech sinner and hes just stupid but like without technological advancements Vox literally would have nothing like they wouldn’t’ve met, Vox would not have a company, etc, etc and thatd probably help a lot of people yeah like the Vees would not fucking exist but ignoring that, just on a personal relationship scale I imagine your “friend” being like “man I really hate the thing that gives you life and allows you to live a somewhat normal existence” hurts a bit.

Technological regeneration is a bit more confusing and hard to explain than biological regeneration since machinery can’t really “heal” in real life. The concept sounds almost bewildering, like you can’t cut a wire and have it slowly heal like skin would, you’d need a whole new wire. But Vox internally, the things that allow him to move and live how he does now, it’s the only part of him that he can heal, and to him, it’s still “defective”.

Vox is disabled mentally and physically; he has Autism, ADHD, and epilepsy, all of which he is unable to be medicated for due to his new body. These are all things that he hates to acknowledge and will become irrationally upset by if they are mentioned to the point he will actively to deny certain aspects of disability. Being a man from the 1900’s-1950’s his views on mental disabilities and mental illnesses are… less than uh.. “acceptable” for today’s standards. He often disregards slurs towards this being called slurs and insists that “They used to just be words” or “It’s a medical diagnosis.” yet still gets incredibly upset when he is ever called a slur that actually could apply to him. In a way he tries to come off as purposely ableist so that he doesn’t have to confront this aspect of himself that he doesn’t understand. His knowledge in technology or sharks or economics aren’t “special interests” to him, they’re just “regular things a man likes”. He can’t process what a hyperfixation is. He doesn’t know that it’s normal for him to be unable to speak on occasion or that certain textures make him severely uncomfortable. These are either seen as weaknesses or “average people things”. Aside from how terribly disabled people were treated back around the 50’s, he views the neurodiverse aspect of his mind as something that only serves to further push him from grasping the feeling of regular humanity again.

For physical disabilities, he doesn’t lie or deny that he has epilepsy, yes he has an intense disdain for mentioning it, but for very few people he is close with he will disclose this information to them privately. There are a very select few people that are aware of this and two of those people are Velvette and Alastor. This post isn’t really about diving into Vox’s epilepsy so I’m keeping this concise because I have another post to put all of that in. Hope you all enjoy the wacky art :)

The binary says “Trust us” for anyone curious