#and like in theory if he reaches out and asks for help it COULD be fixed

[butch-bakugo]

Why are vetted accounts sending people stuff like this.

I mean it's clearly copy-pasted and sent to multiple people but this isn't even a donations ask. Imma guess the reason people aren't responding is because you're accusing them of not doing enough for Palestine and sending it to multiple people who you clearly don't check because I've been posting about and for Palestine since oct 7th when I learned about it.

Also yes he is looking for donations, you can check his account and find it. Why are you sending this guilt trippy stuff to people and accusing them of not caring enough? You don't know me? You send these to multiple people so your clearly not checking the account in question. This dose nothing to help you personally or the Palestinian cause, it just pisses people off and makes them question vetters.

[testingcheatsenabletrue]

@vampyrtism

u.... u get it........... u see the vision......................

nitro = more energy... excess energy = excess anger... excess anger = excessive violence... we share the vision

for my own personal interpretation theres a few more layers bc the way i write him he has an engine for a heart that is powered by nitro, a la bg3 karlach's infernal engine, and the engine is like. not broken but it's the first and only of it's kind and very old, so like old engines are it's not super efficient and leaks a bit.

ideally all the nitro should be contained in his engine + its fuel tanks located on his back until he purposefully triggers the nitro "rage" (ie. the alt style he transforms into). but its not ideal so it leaks into the rest of his cardiovascular system and therefore the entirety of his body, so he's perpetually got nitro in him. ergo why he's like. SUPER irritable. he has a lot of energy, he's in a lot of pain, and he has no real way of relieving himself of it so he is hella angry and prone to lashing out violently because of it. he also cant just stop because it will literally stop his heart. so like. vicious cycle, really.

[cyofii]

⩩﹕IN WHICH Phainon finally works up the courage to confess his feelings for you. He’s prepared for the worst, but his overly enthusiastic and hilariously awkward confession turns out to be the very thing that melts your heart.

wc: 2.7k 𐔌 ᯓ fluff + crack, reader is a member of the astral express, english is NOT my first language, probably ooc, i might disappear again after this helpp

It all started with a simple glance. The moment you, Caelus, and Dan Heng arrived at Amphoreus and were saved by him, something shifted. He couldn’t help but take notice of you the instant your eyes met. Was it the way you stood your ground against the Strife Titan’s soldier minions? The steady strength in how you cared for your comrades? Or perhaps it was just you, intriguing in a way he couldn’t quite place.

The first time Phainon spoke to you, he found himself trying his best to impress you with his words. Were you the type to be drawn to intelligent people? The kind who could be charmed by facts, theories, or well-timed historical references? He wasn’t sure, but he wanted to find out. So he made it his mission to impress you with what he knew, slipping little details into conversation about Amphoreus’s ancient architecture, the myths behind its sky, or the lesser-known mechanics. His voice would drop to soft, thoughtful tones whenever you were near, as if every word he spoke was carefully chosen just for you.

Tribbie noticed it too. There was a subtle difference in Phainon’s voice whenever he spoke to you. It carried a softness, something warmer, something more genuine than the way he spoke to anyone else. On the way to Okhema, Tribbie couldn’t help but sneak glances at the two of you, quietly cheering for Phainon in her head. Even Dan Heng, ever observant, seemed to sense the way Phainon’s attention lingered on you a little longer than it should.

"Have you eaten anything yet?" Phainon asked, his gaze settling on you.

Fate must have been on his side when he asked if you wanted to ride the dromas with him, and you agreed, especially since Caelus and Dan Heng were already sharing one.

"I haven't, actually," you replied, your eyes drifting over the unfamiliar surroundings, taking everything in.

"Then once we reach the city gates, we can go eat. My treat, of course!" he said, his voice laced with excitement.

You could almost imagine a pair of puppy ears and a wagging tail behind him as he spoke, the image bringing a chuckle out of you.

"Sure, I'd like that," you replied, accepting his offer with a warm smile.

Because of the battle against Nikador, the little ‘date’ Phainon had planned was postponed. A week had already passed.

Now, Phainon stood outside the room you shared with Caelus and Dan Heng, quietly muttering to himself as he worked up the courage to knock. He kept rehearsing the words in his head, wondering how he should invite you to eat. Was he always this nervous? Or was it only like this when it came to you?

Trying to steady his nerves, Phainon took a deep breath and knocked on the door, his hand hesitating for just a second.

There was a long pause before a voice called out, "I’ll get it."

The door creaked open, slow and unhurried, and Phainon felt his heart climb all the way to his throat. For a moment, he was sure it would burst out of his chest.

But when the door finally opened, it wasn’t you standing there — it was Dan Heng, his expression calm but curious. The sight brought Phainon a small wave of relief, his tense shoulders relaxing slightly. If it had been you, he swore he might have collapsed right then and there.

Dan Heng raised an eyebrow, studying him for a second longer than usual. "Looking for someone?" he asked, though the knowing tone in his voice suggested he already had the answer.

Phainon cleared his throat, trying to piece together his scattered thoughts. "Are they here?"

Dan Heng glanced over his shoulder toward the room before stepping aside. "They’re inside. I’ll call them."

As Dan Heng turned to call your name, Phainon felt his heart pick up speed all over again. No matter how much he tried to prepare himself, it seemed that just the thought of seeing you was enough to stir something deep in his chest.

You heard Dan Heng call your name from inside the room, his tone as calm as ever. At that moment, you and Caelus were in the middle of teasing each other over some silly in-joke, the kind that only the two of you seemed to find funny. He nudged your shoulder with a grin, and you rolled your eyes playfully before excusing yourself.

As you stepped toward the door, still smiling faintly from the banter, Phainon felt his breath catch in his throat. Even though he had spent a whole week trying to find the right words, now that you were standing in front of him, his mind went completely blank.

You tilted your head slightly, noticing the way his gaze flickered away for just a moment. "Hey," you greeted, your voice light and easy, unaware of how much weight the simple word carried for him.

Phainon rubbed the back of his neck, forcing out the words he had practiced so many times. "About the meal... I was wondering if you're still up for it. I mean, if you're free, of course."

There was a pause, short but enough for Phainon’s heart to hammer against his chest all over again as he waited for your reply.

“Oh! I almost forgot!” you said, a small spark of realization flickering across your face. You looked at him with an apologetic smile, your tone light but warm. "Yeah, I'd like that."

Phainon felt the tension in his chest ease, his lips pulling into a bright, genuine smile. Without wasting another second, you turned your head back toward the room.

“I’m heading out with Phainon,” you called out, making sure both Caelus and Dan Heng could hear. Caelus gave you a playful wave from where he sat, and Dan Heng gave a small nod, his usual calm expression softening just a little.

Once you had said your goodbyes, you stepped out of the room and walked alongside Phainon. His steps felt lighter, and the shy glance he gave you couldn’t quite hide the excitement flickering behind his eyes.

“Snowy!” Tribbie, Trianne, and Trinnon all called out in unison.

There stood Phainon, his face redder than Mydei’s robe.

“What happened, Lord Phainon?” Castorice asked, a polite smile resting on her face.

Before Phainon could even try to answer, the sound of armor echoed through the bathhouse as Mydei strolled in, adjusting his gloves. His expression held the usual sharp edge of someone who knew far more than he let on.

“Oh, I can answer that,” Mydei said, his tone light and teasing. He stopped just a few steps away from the group, crossing his arms. “Deliverer here is fresh from a little outing, aren’t you?”

Phainon’s shoulders stiffened as Mydei glanced his way, that playful glint dancing in his eyes.

“Such an adorable sight too. Sharing a meal, walking side by side, and that little moment where he almost looked like he could steal the whole sky with one smile.” Mydei paused, clearly savoring the attention of the room. “Who knew the Deliverer had it in him?”

The room went silent for a moment, all eyes on Phainon, whose face somehow managed to burn even hotter.

Phainon opened his mouth to speak, maybe to deny it or maybe to change the subject, but all that came out was a strangled, “I—”

“Didn’t expect that, huh?” Trianne whispered to Tribbie.

Phainon turned away, covering his mouth with one hand in a poor attempt to hide the shade his cheeks had turned. He could still hear Mydei humming behind him, clearly enjoying himself.

His thoughts flickered back to just a short while ago. After their meal, the walk back had been warm, soft, and a little awkward, but in a good way.

“You didn’t have to walk me back, you know,” you had said, glancing at him from the corner of your eye as the two of you walked along the path leading to your room. The sky above Amphoreus was still the same as ever.

“I wanted to,” Phainon replied, not quite looking at you. “It’s only right to make sure you got back safely.”

You had chuckled at that, a quiet, content sound.

When you reached the door, he lingered for just a second longer than necessary, and you noticed.

“I’ll see you soon?” you asked.

Phainon nodded quickly, trying to look composed even as he backed away. “Y-yeah. Definitely.”

The memory dissolved the moment Mydei spoke.

“Speaking of,” Mydei said with a smirk, glancing toward the lift. “Look who decided to join us.”

Phainon turned around and froze.

There you were, walking in alongside Dan Heng and Caelus, your eyes scanning the room. Dan Heng gave a polite nod to the group, while Caelus stretched his arms up with a dramatic sigh.

“Apologies, we’re late,” Dan Heng said. “Aglaea asked us to come too.”

Phainon blinked, his mind short-circuiting. “Oh. You’re... here too?”

You tilted your head slightly, amused. “Didn’t expect us?”

“I, uh, well, I just—” He rubbed the back of his neck, laughing nervously. “I thought you’d be resting. After, y’know, earlier.”

Caelus narrowed his eyes in mock suspicion. “Why does that sound suspicious?”

Mydei let out a low hum. “It was suspicious.”

Tribbie giggled behind her hand, and Trianne barely suppressed a laugh.

You glanced at Phainon, your expression unreadable for just a moment, then a small smile tugged at the corners of your lips. “You didn’t tell anyone about the part where you almost tripped over a bench, right?”

Phainon let out a groan, covering his face as the others erupted into laughter. “Please don’t.”

The market was buzzing with chatter, and the air smelled faintly of roasted nuts and fresh bread. Tribbie was holding a small pouch of star-shaped candies, but her focus was far from the snacks.

“So…” she began, tugging lightly at your sleeve as you walked. “You’ve been spending a lot of time with Phainon lately.”

You glanced down at her, amused. “Have I?”

Tribbie grinned up at you, swinging her arm slightly. “Don’t pretend! He’s always sticking close to you — and I’ve seen the way you smile at him too.”

You paused, pretending to study one of the stall’s trinkets, though the question sat warmly in your chest. After a short moment, you finally answered.

“I guess he is interesting,” you admitted. “He’s smart, funny... and honestly, kind of charming when he isn’t trying so hard.”

Tribbie’s eyes sparkled with curiosity, clearly delighted by your answer. “And handsome?” she asked, her voice full of playful innocence.

A soft laugh escaped you. “Yeah, that too.”

Tribbie let out a happy little giggle, skipping beside you as the two of you continued walking. “I knew it! I knew you thought so.”

Tribbie, still beaming from your little confession, skipped ahead a few steps before turning on her heel to face you, walking backward with the confidence only a child could manage.

“You should tell him, you know!” she chirped, her voice light as the breeze. “I bet he’d be super happy.”

You shook your head, amused at her boldness. “It’s not that easy, Tribbie.”

She tilted her head, puzzled. “Why not? Grown-ups always make things more complicated.”

Before you could answer, your phone buzzed softly in your pocket. You pulled it out and saw a message from Dan Heng:

Dan Heng: Caelus is getting hungry. You heading back soon?

You smiled to yourself, typing a quick reply.

You: On my way! Tribbie was stalling me.

Sliding your phone back into your pocket, you turned to Tribbie. “Come on,” you said, gently taking her hand to guide her away from the crowd. “I need to head back before Caelus starts eating my secret snacks.”

Tribbie skipped along beside you, humming happily under her breath. But even as you walked, your thoughts lingered on Phainon — the way his voice softened whenever he spoke to you, the way his nervous smiles felt so genuine, and how his whole demeanor seemed to ease the moment you were near.

Unspoken feelings hung in the air, light but impossible to ignore, and you couldn’t help but wonder if, somewhere, Phainon was thinking about you too.

The sun hung high in the sky as you and Phainon found yourselves standing by a quiet corner of the bustling marketplace, far from the noise of the crowd. The moment felt like it was meant to be, but Phainon looked a bit too tense for it to be anything “casual.”

He shifted on his feet, clearly unsure how to start. You raised an eyebrow at him. “You alright?”

Phainon’s face turned a little pink, and he cleared his throat awkwardly. “Uh… so... you know how we’ve been spending a lot of time together lately?”

You nodded, trying to keep a straight face as you could already sense where this was going. “Yeah, I think I’ve noticed.”

“I’ve been thinking... a lot.” Phainon scratched his head nervously. “And I just... I need to say this before my brain explodes. It’s important.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his serious tone, though you kept it to a smile so as not to interrupt his flow. “Alright, lay it on me.”

He took a deep breath, staring at you like you were the most important thing in the world, even if his face was all sorts of red. “Okay, here goes... I like you. Like, a lot. And I’m not talking about, like, ‘Oh, I like you as a friend’ type of liking you. I mean, I like you like you. Like, if liking you was a sport, I’d be the world champion. That’s how much I like you.”

You blinked, trying to suppress your laughter. “Phainon, are you... are you trying to tell me you have a crush on me?”

He nodded vigorously, still rambling. “Yes! But it’s not just a regular crush, okay? It’s like... the kind where I’d write you a song if I knew how to play an instrument. Or maybe I’d bake you cookies, but only if I had a recipe. Which I don’t. But, you know, the point is — I like you. A lot. And I can’t keep pretending that I don’t. So there, I said it.”

There was a brief silence, and you stared at him, blinking slowly, trying to make sense of his very enthusiastic confession. Then, you burst out laughing.

Phainon’s eyes widened, his face going even redder. “Wait, wait! Is that—was that bad? Did I mess it up? I can try again—”

You waved your hands, still chuckling. “No, no! It’s just... I wasn’t expecting you to be this nervous about it!”

Phainon gave a weak laugh, scratching his head again. “Well, it’s not every day I tell someone I like them, you know? I mean, this is serious stuff. It’s like, ‘here’s my heart, don’t drop it’ kind of serious.”

You put a hand on your chest dramatically. “Oh, don’t worry, I’m not gonna drop your heart. I mean, you’re not that bad. You did make me laugh.”

Phainon sighed in relief, a little grin appearing on his face. “Okay, so... you’re not running away screaming, right?”

You grinned. “Nah. But only because you said it in such a funny way. You’re lucky I find that charming.”

Phainon blinked. “Really? You find me charming?”

“Sure,” you said with a teasing smile. “For a world champion overthinker.”

His grin grew even wider as he nudged you playfully. “Well, if you ever need a partner in crime for overthinking things, you know where to find me.”

You laughed again, shaking your head. “I think you’ve already got me.”

Phainon blinked, then broke into a big smile. “Wait, did you just say yes?”

You gave him a wink. “Maybe I did. But you still owe me those cookies.”

“Deal!” he said, a little too enthusiastically. “I’ll start baking immediately... once I find a recipe.”

[mcrdvcks]

— love language

summary: You and Matt are now dating, but you haven't told anyone. How long will it take your friends to notice?

word count: 3.4k+

pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader

notes: i had this idea after writing goodnight n go (which is technically the first part, but you don't need to read it to understand this). anyways, here's a bunch of fluff

warnings/tags: after endgame but date is not specified, best friends to lovers, reader works at stark industries, matt is a cocky little shit, making out

Things moved on normally, the only thing that had changed in the past month was that you two weren’t just friends but dating.

You didn’t realize it, but you were already quite close to Matt.

Matt chuckled, his arm hooked around yours as the two of you waited in line for coffee. “Really?” He asked sarcastically.

“Ugh.” You elbowed him. “You’re an ass.”

“I’m just saying, what kinda friends have a toothbrush at their place?” He tapped his cane against the floor lightly.

You tilted your head. “Uhhh… pretty sure at one point Foggy had a toothbrush at your place.”

“That he never used other than one time.”

You scoffed, nudging his side again. "Still counts."

Matt smirked. "Does it?"

"Yes, because that means I’m not the weird one here. You just have a habit of letting people leave their stuff at your place."

Matt tilted his head slightly, feigning thoughtfulness. "Interesting theory. Except you’re the only person whose toothbrush has stayed."

You opened your mouth to argue, then paused, realizing he was right. "Okay, fine, but that’s only because—"

"You stay over all the time?"

You huffed, rolling your eyes. "You’re impossible."

"And yet, here you are," he teased, squeezing your arm lightly before stepping forward to order.

---

Foggy opened the door to Matt’s office. “Hey, did you ever finish the deposition for the Martin case?”

Matt put down the fork to his Pad Thai, leaving it in the Styrofoam container. “Yeah, I did.”

You took the opportunity, snatching the fork from his container and stealing a bite of his Pad Thai. Matt huffed, but you could hear the amusement in it.

"Really?" he murmured.

"You put it down," you said, chewing. "That means it's fair game."

Foggy barely glanced up from the papers in his hand. "She’s got a point, Matt. You know the rules."

Matt exhaled sharply, shaking his head as he blindly reached for the fork still in your grip. You dodged, keeping it out of his reach as you took another bite.

Foggy flipped a page. "Anyway, judge pushed the hearing back a week, which is good because it gives us time to go over the new witness statement. Karen’s taking a look at it now."

Matt hummed in acknowledgment, still trying to reclaim his fork. You smirked, shifting slightly in his lap. He retaliated by sliding an arm around your waist, pinning you in place.

"You gonna give that back?" he murmured.

"Maybe," you teased, holding it just out of reach.

Foggy sighed, still not looking up. "If you two devolve into a full-on fork battle, at least take it outside. I don’t need Pad Thai in the depositions."

Matt smirked, finally managing to grab the utensil from your grip. "Noted."

You huffed but didn’t move, resting your elbow on his shoulder instead. "Fine. I got what I wanted anyway."

Matt chuckled, shaking his head as he twirled the fork back into his food.

Foggy snapped the folder shut. "Alright, well, since you two seem busy, I’ll go see if Karen needs help."

"Let us know if you need anything," Matt said easily.

"Yeah, yeah," Foggy muttered, already halfway out the door.

---

Josie’s was loud and crowded as always, but at this point it was like a second home. You were telling Karen about an incident in the lab. “—Levi somehow hooks the string around the sprinkler and pulls. I get an alert on my tablet and rush over to the lab. Turns out, when he pulled the sprinkler, he also pulled part of the main water line. All for a tiny qubit that got stuck on the ceiling.”

Karen snorted, shaking her head. "Please tell me this guy got fired."

"Nope," you said, sipping your drink. "Because technically, it worked. The qubit came loose. He just, y’know… flooded half the floor in the process."

Karen groaned. "God, Stark Industries sounds like a nightmare sometimes."

"You have no idea," you muttered, setting your glass down.

As you kept talking, you felt your shirt strap slide down your shoulder. It wasn’t anything major, just a slight shift, but before you could adjust it yourself, Matt did it for you.

His hand found your shoulder with ease, fingers brushing your skin as he hooked the strap with two fingers and guided it back into place. It was quick, thoughtless, something he’d probably done a hundred times before without even realizing.

Karen barely blinked.

You didn’t think much of it either, continuing on. "Anyway, Levi tried to convince me it was an 'engineering breakthrough' and that 'technically' he proved a new method of remote retrieval—"

"You’re kidding," Karen deadpanned.

"Oh, I wish."

Matt smirked beside you, listening quietly. His arm was resting along the back of your chair, close but not overbearing.

Karen leaned forward, taking another sip of her drink. "So what’d you do?"

You grinned. "Told him if he ever did that again, I’d make sure the next thing he got stuck was his own head in the centrifuge."

Karen burst out laughing. "And let me guess—he immediately backed down."

"Pretty much," you said smugly.

Matt chuckled, shaking his head. "You really are terrifying sometimes."

"And yet, here you are," you teased, echoing the same words you’d said to him earlier that morning.

Matt tilted his head slightly, smirk deepening. "Guess I have a thing for danger."

Karen rolled her eyes but didn’t comment. She was too used to the way you two interacted, and nothing about tonight seemed different from any other night.

---

“You didn’t have to come.” Matt murmured, as your hands combed through his hair. “It’s just a mugging case.”

“And yet,” you pulled your hands away. “You were goin’ to walk in there with hair like that.” You gave him a grin. “I helped you devil boy. Oh, wait.”

You pulled his red-lensed glasses off before cleaning them with your shirt. Matt huffed, tilting his head slightly. "You know, most people don’t manhandle my things without permission."

"Most people aren’t me," you shot back, flipping the glasses open and sliding them back onto his face.

Matt’s lips twitched, but he didn’t argue.

Foggy sighed from beside you. "How do you two have time for this while standing outside a courtroom?"

Karen smirked, arms crossed. "Multitasking."

You grinned. "Exactly. I’m helping him and annoying him at the same time."

Matt let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. "You really do take your job seriously."

"Obviously."

Before Foggy could reply, the courtroom doors opened, and the previous case let out, lawyers and reporters filing into the hallway. The four of you straightened slightly as Matt rolled his shoulders, settling into courtroom mode.

"Alright," Matt murmured, adjusting his tie. "Let’s get this over with."

You reached out instinctively, running a hand down the front of his suit, smoothing the fabric. "You’re good."

Matt caught your wrist before you could pull away, his thumb brushing over your pulse for just a second longer than necessary. “You going to stay?”

“Yep. I’ll be sittin’ in the front row looking pretty.”

Foggy snorted. "Sittin’ pretty? That’s your plan?"

"Someone’s gotta balance out Matt’s whole intimidating blind lawyer thing," you teased, adjusting your bag over your shoulder.

Matt smirked. "Intimidating, huh?"

"You know what you do," you muttered, patting his chest once before stepping back.

Karen chuckled, shaking her head. "Alright, let’s get in there before we miss the good part."

The courtroom was already filling up when you and Karen slipped into the front row, Matt and Foggy making their way to the bench. You crossed one leg over the other, leaning back slightly as you pulled your phone from your bag, muting notifications.

"You know, sometimes I forget you don’t actually work for them," Karen mused, watching as you settled in.

You glanced at her. "Why?"

Karen shrugged. "You’re here so often, always involved in their cases, bringing them food, making sure Matt doesn’t walk into court looking like he just crawled out of a dumpster—"

"Hey," you cut in. "I don’t make him look good. He just listens to me when I tell him to fix his tie."

Karen smirked, tilting her head. "Mhm."

You rolled your eyes, looking toward the front of the courtroom. Matt and Foggy were talking in hushed tones, Foggy flipping through a stack of papers while Matt leaned slightly toward him, nodding at something he said.

Karen was still watching you, but you ignored her.

The judge entered, and the room settled as the proceedings began.

---

The hearing wasn’t long, but it was long enough for you to notice Karen sneaking glances at you every so often. You didn’t say anything, keeping your focus on the case.

Matt and Foggy handled it well, as expected. You knew Matt’s confidence in the courtroom was unmatched, and even though you couldn’t see his eyes behind the red lenses, you knew he was completely locked in, analyzing every shift in the judge’s tone, every heartbeat in the room.

By the time the judge adjourned the hearing, you were stretching slightly, rolling your shoulders as you stood.

Matt and Foggy approached, gathering their things. "Well," Foggy said, stuffing papers into his briefcase. "That went about as well as it could’ve."

Matt hummed in agreement. "We should have a decision in a few days."

Karen exhaled. "That was exhausting to watch, so I can’t imagine how you two feel."

Matt smiled. "Used to it."

You reached out, fixing the fold of his pocket square before he could tuck his cane under his arm. "You did good."

Matt turned his head toward you slightly, smirk playing at his lips. "Yeah?"

You huffed. "Yeah, Murdock. Try not to look so smug about it."

Foggy raised a brow, gaze flickering between the two of you for a second. Karen, too, was watching, something unreadable in her expression.

Neither of them said anything.

"Alright," Foggy finally broke the silence, snapping his briefcase shut. "Lunch? Please? I need food after all that legal jargon."

"Agreed," Karen said.

You nodded. "Sounds good to me."

Matt tapped his cane against the floor once, falling into step beside you. Karen shot one last glance between the two of you but still said nothing.

---

You pulled out an expired container of milk. “Matty, I seriously don’t know how you, of all people, didn’t notice you had 2-week expired milk in your fridge.”

Matt smirked from where he was leaning against the counter, arms crossed over his chest. "You think I make a habit of sniffing my milk cartons?"

You made a face, waving the expired container in his direction. "Considering you should be able to smell the rotting dairy in your fridge? Yeah, actually, I do."

Matt huffed a quiet laugh, stepping forward as you popped the lid open and took an experimental sniff—only to gag immediately.

"Jesus Christ," you muttered, shoving the carton at him. "Smell it. I dare you."

Matt wrinkled his nose, taking a slight step back. "I’ll pass."

"Uh-huh, that’s what I thought." You shut the carton and tossed it in the trash before opening the fridge again. "When’s the last time you actually bought groceries?"

Matt leaned against the counter, lips twitching. "Don’t know. You usually do it for me."

You shot him a look over your shoulder. "That’s not the win you think it is, Murdock."

"I don’t know," he murmured, stepping behind you, hands settling at your waist. "Feels like a win to me."

Your breath hitched as he leaned in slightly, lips brushing just behind your ear. You huffed, pushing him back lightly with your elbow. "No, you don’t get to distract me. Your fridge is a disaster."

Matt let out a quiet chuckle but didn’t let go entirely. "I’ve survived this long."

"Yeah, because I keep you alive," you muttered, pulling out a sad-looking bag of spinach and holding it up for him. "This? This is a crime."

Matt smirked. "Pretty sure I deal with actual crimes for a living."

"You’re so lucky you’re cute." You tossed the bag onto the counter with a sigh. "Alright, that’s it. We’re going grocery shopping."

"You say that like I have a choice."

"You don’t," you said, shutting the fridge and turning in his arms.

Matt smiled, fingers brushing over your hip before he dropped his hands. "At least let me buy you dinner after."

You narrowed your eyes playfully. "Bribing me with food?"

"Wouldn’t be the first time."

You rolled your eyes, but the smirk you tried to suppress still made its way onto your lips. "Fine. But you’re carrying all the bags."

"Deal," Matt murmured, reaching for his cane.

You grabbed your coat, glancing at him as he adjusted his watch. "And I’m making sure you don’t buy anything that will expire in two days."

Matt chuckled. "Now that’s just cruel."

---

The grocery store was relatively quiet for a Friday night, the kind of late-evening lull where the only customers were people grabbing last-minute dinner ingredients or, in Matt’s case, replacing an entire fridge’s worth of expired food.

You pushed the cart while Matt walked beside you, his hand resting lightly at the crook of your elbow. "Alright, first things first," you said, steering the cart toward the produce section. "You’re getting actual vegetables. Not just things that used to be vegetables before they died a slow, tragic death in your fridge."

Matt smirked. "I resent that."

"You resent having to eat vegetables," you shot back, picking up a head of lettuce and tossing it into the cart.

Matt tilted his head slightly, like he was considering. "That might be true."

You sighed dramatically. "It’s like taking a toddler shopping."

"You did sign up for this," Matt pointed out, casually trailing his fingers over the display of apples as he passed.

You side-eyed him. "Did I? I don’t remember agreeing to supervise you."

"You knew what you were getting into," he teased, reaching past you to grab an apple and setting it in the cart.

"Yeah, yeah," you muttered, adding a few more. "What else do you need? Other than everything."

Matt hummed, fingers tapping lightly against the handle of the cart. "Bread. Eggs. Coffee."

"Obviously," you muttered, already steering the cart in that direction.

As you walked, Matt’s hand slid from your elbow to your wrist, fingers idly tracing over your pulse before his hand found yours, linking your fingers together like it was nothing.

You squeezed his hand slightly. "If you think holding my hand is gonna distract me from making you buy actual groceries, you’re wrong."

Matt huffed a quiet laugh, thumb brushing over the back of your hand. "Worth a shot."

"Mm-hmm," you mused, scanning the shelves as you walked. You paused near the coffee aisle, reaching for a bag of Matt’s usual blend.

"That one’s good," Matt said, nodding toward it.

You smirked, holding up a different one just to mess with him. "What about this one?"

Matt tilted his head slightly, a smirk playing on his lips. "That one’s decaf."

Your lips parted in mock surprise. "Wow. Look at that. Guess you do pay attention to your groceries."

Matt exhaled a laugh, leaning in slightly. "I pay attention to you."

Your stomach flipped, but you covered it with an eye roll, tossing his usual coffee into the cart before dragging him toward the next aisle.

---

By the time you made it to the checkout, the cart was full. Probably more food than Matt had ever willingly bought for himself.

"You’re never gonna finish all this," he mused as you unloaded onto the conveyor belt.

"You will if you actually cook," you shot back. "And don’t tell me you can’t. I’ve seen you do it."

Matt smirked, handing the cashier his card before you could stop him. "Guess I have no choice now."

You squinted at him. "That sounds suspiciously like a challenge."

Matt tilted his head. "Maybe it is."

You grinned. "Alright, Murdock. Guess I’ll be the judge of whether or not you can actually cook."

Matt chuckled, grabbing the grocery bags as the cashier finished bagging them. "I did offer to buy you dinner."

You crossed your arms. "I thought we were talking restaurant dinner, not Murdock’s Mystery Kitchen dinner."

Matt smirked, shifting the bags in his hands. "I never specified."

You rolled your eyes but reached out, grabbing a couple of bags from him. "Fine. But if you burn anything, I’m taking over."

"Noted," Matt said, leaning in just slightly. "But I wouldn’t underestimate me, sweetheart."

You huffed, shoving a bag at him before walking toward the door. "We’ll see about that, devil boy."

---

“Where’s my shirt? You know, the soft blue one with a star embroidered on it?”

Matt, who was sitting on the couch, fingers tracing a braille legal document, tilted his head. “…Where are your clothes?”

“My—that’s what I’m asking you.” You replied, hands on your hips, leaning against his bedroom door.

Matt’s lips twitched, setting the braille document down on the coffee table. He turned his head slightly, his attention fully on you now. "You’re asking me where your clothes are?"

"Yes, Matty." You sighed, crossing your arms. "I took a shower, and now I can’t find my damn shirt. The soft blue one? The one with the star embroidered on it?"

Matt hummed, pushing himself up from the couch, his movements slow, deliberate. "And you think I did something with it?"

"You have a habit of stealing my clothes," you pointed out. "So yes, you’re my prime suspect."

Matt smirked, stepping toward you. "Interesting accusation, sweetheart."

You didn’t flinch as he closed the distance, his fingers barely brushing along your forearm, trailing up to your shoulder before settling against your jaw.

"You’re not wearing any clothes."

You rolled your eyes. "I am wearing clothes. Just not the ones I want."

Matt exhaled a quiet chuckle, tilting his head slightly. "Bra and underwear don’t count."

"Tell that to every guy who’s ever seen a Victoria’s Secret ad," you muttered.

Matt grinned. "Is that what this is? A show?"

You huffed, lightly swatting at his chest. "You’re impossible."

"And yet, here you are," he teased, echoing your words from earlier, his fingers still lazily tracing the edge of your jaw.

You narrowed your eyes but didn’t pull away. "Are you gonna help me find my shirt or not?"

Matt’s lips twitched. "I’m starting to think you just wanted an excuse to walk around like this."

You scoffed. "Matty, if I wanted to walk around half-naked in your apartment, I would. I don’t need an excuse."

Matt grinned. "Good to know."

You rolled your eyes, stepping back. "So are you gonna help or—"

Before you could finish, Matt turned toward his dresser, fingers trailing over the top before he grabbed something and held it out.

Your missing shirt.

Your jaw dropped. "You knew where it was this whole time?"

Matt shrugged. "You left it here last week. I thought it was mine."

You squinted at him. "Since when do you own a soft blue shirt with a star embroidered on it?"

Matt smirked. "I don’t, but you leave your stuff here so often, I figured it was fair game."

You snatched it from his hands. "Unbelievable."

Matt huffed a laugh, crossing his arms. "You gonna put it on, or do I get to keep enjoying the view?"

You shot him a look, but the heat in his voice sent something warm curling in your stomach. You turned away, slipping the shirt over your head, and when you glanced back, Matt was still smirking.

"Happy now?" you muttered.

Matt hummed, stepping closer again. "Not yet."

Before you could respond, he leaned in, catching your chin between his fingers before pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your lips.

When he pulled back, his smirk deepened. "Now I’m happy."

You scoffed, trying to ignore the way your heart was hammering in your chest. "You’re ridiculous."

"And you love it."

You rolled your eyes but didn’t argue.

---

It was late at night when Matt convinced you to stay. Foggy and Karen were out of the office for the night, leaving just you and Matt doing your separate work.

The office was quiet, save for the occasional rustling of paper and the distant hum of the city outside.

You were perched on Matt’s couch, cross-legged, a set of blueprints spread across your lap while he sat at his desk, reading over a case file. Neither of you spoke, lost in your own work, but there was a comfortable ease to it.

"Are you even getting anything done over there?" Matt asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

You didn’t look up. "Are you?"

He hummed. "I was. Until I realized how unfair this is."

You sighed, already knowing where this was going. "What’s unfair, Matty?"

"You get to sit all comfy on my couch, while I’m stuck here, hard at work."

You snorted. "Hard at work, huh? I didn’t realize whining counted as work."

Matt pushed his chair back, standing slowly. "I think I deserve a break."

You barely glanced up. "Then take one. I’m actually doing something productive."

Matt made his way toward you, hands in his pockets. "Are you?"

You narrowed your eyes, lifting a brow. "Yes. Unlike some people, I have deadlines to meet."

Matt hummed, stepping in front of you. "And yet, you’re still here. With me."

"Because you asked me to stay," you reminded him, flipping a page. "You coerced me."

Matt smirked. "Did I?"

"Yes, you—hey!"

In one swift motion, Matt plucked the blueprints from your lap and set them aside. Before you could protest, he leaned down, hands bracketing your sides as he caged you against the couch.

"Take a break with me, angel," he murmured.

You exhaled, glaring up at him. "You are so—"

Whatever insult you had lined up died in your throat as Matt leaned in, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your jaw. His lips brushed over your pulse, deliberate, teasing.

"Annoying?" he murmured.

You swallowed hard. "Distracting."

Matt grinned against your skin. "Mm. I’ll take that."

Your fingers curled around his tie, tugging slightly. "You are so lucky I like you."

Matt chuckled, dipping his head until his lips were just barely grazing yours. "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

You closed the distance, kissing him properly.

Matt exhaled against your lips, deepening it immediately. His hands skimmed down your sides, gripping your waist as he pulled you flush against him. You barely noticed when he guided you backward, until the edge of his desk dug into your lower back.

"Matty," you murmured between kisses.

"Mm?"

"I thought we were taking a break."

"This is my break," he murmured, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your throat.

You huffed a quiet laugh, threading your fingers into his hair. "Productive."

Matt grinned against your skin, hands slipping under the hem of your shirt. "You’re the one distracting me, sweetheart."

You rolled your eyes but didn’t stop him, tilting your head slightly to give him better access. His lips trailed back up, capturing yours again in a kiss that left your head spinning.

Neither of you noticed the sound of the front door opening.

At least, you didn’t.

Matt either didn’t hear it, or—more likely—just didn’t care.

"Hey, Matt, I left my phone—"

Foggy’s voice cut through the air like a record scratch.

You froze.

Matt, however, barely reacted. His lips left yours just enough for him to let out a quiet sigh—like he was annoyed—before pressing one last kiss to your jaw.

"Should’ve knocked, Fog," he murmured.

Your entire body was on fire. You didn’t dare turn around. Foggy, for his part, just stood there. Silent. Karen was the one to break it. "Uh."

You exhaled sharply, tilting your head back against the desk. "Jesus Christ."

Matt still didn’t move. He just turned his head slightly in their direction. "You left your phone?"

Foggy blinked. "Yeah." A beat. "But now I kinda wanna leave it here forever."

Karen coughed, her voice tight with suppressed laughter. "Should we leave?"

You groaned, covering your face with your hands.

Matt just smirked. "You could, but I doubt you will."

Karen cleared her throat. "Y’know what? I suddenly really need a drink."

"Yeah, me too," Foggy muttered, grabbing his phone off the desk and speed walking toward the door.

Karen cast one last glance between the two of you, shaking her head before following. The second the door shut behind them, you finally shoved Matt away.

"You knew they were coming, didn’t you!?"

Matt grinned, shrugging. "You said it yourself—I have a habit of coercing you."

You gaped at him. "Murdock."

He just leaned in again, lips ghosting over your ear. "You gonna finish what you started, angel?"

Your face burned. "I started!?"

Matt chuckled, nudging his nose against yours.

"You’re impossible," you muttered, still flustered.

"And yet," Matt murmured, smirking, "here you are."

[tokidokiomi]

Petty arguments turned to silent treatments. Its not even big serious arguments, no. Its far from serious, silly even, how they would argue about a fictional characters actions, theories, and so on.

Now, Simon is a quiet man himself, he's used to silence, quiet...he can go days without uttering a word. But you? Now that he cant handle.

He always breaks first. Always come to initiate, new for him, but for you? He is so willing, a weak for his love.

But he got an idea, if you wont come to him to talk, then he would make you.

Petty, sure. But he did it. Tightened jars and placed it high up, smirk on his lips as he imagines how it'll turn out.

But oh, youre so unpredictable.

About to make a pasta, you did struggle to reach the cupboard but managed by using a chair, then tries to open the jar, with him lurking behind, pretending to rummage the pantry on the side all while eyeing you with a small smirk, waiting for you to call for help.

Then the sound of glass braking made his smirk drop so fast. All while you stir the tomato paste into the pot- along with the broken shards of glass.

Simon knew you are stubborn, but this sure did prove him wrong, you were more than stubborn.

And like everytime, he breaks.

"..Luvie...you could have asked.."

You keep on stirring as if its normal thing to do, broken shards of glass clinking the pot.

"I wouldnt have to if you didnt tighten them, no?"

One glare from you and he knew he fucked up. "Luv, I-"

With ladle in hand, you pointed at him, "Dont try me again."

Simon watched you threw the ladle on the sink and walks away, leaving him stunned.

Scared and inlove even more than he already is.

And hard 'coz a threat from you is sexy- a whole kink awakened something in him.

[nightingale-prompts]

Alfred's Apprentice- DCxDP prompt

Alfred isn't immortal and he can admit he's not getting any younger. It also wouldn't hurt to have someone else to take on the workload since the family isn't going to get smaller.

Instead of finding help, help found him.

"Call me Nightingale. Danny Nightingale." The young man said presenting a black card with perfect white ink calligraphy.

Danny was about Tim's age. He had already graduated early according to records. His record was perfect in all respects. Smart. An intellect comparable to geniuses in respects to science which had more uses in the households then you'd expect. He was very precise when it came to cleaning. Every surface needed to be cleaned regardless of how much use they see. In fact Danny would carry a blacklight and wipe anything with fingerprints. His almost supernatural strength allowed him to move furniture for easier cleaning.

Alfred had suspicions that Danny had a history in crime scene cleaning. He chose not to say anything.

The kid was a damn good cook as well. Though his tea isn't up to Alfred's standards. At least heist his aim is good.

Bruce at least didn't adopt this one and leave Alfred to take care of him.

"Nightingale, did you clean the ceiling?" Alfred asked.

"Yes, sir. Please leave any hard to reach places to me. The chandelier is especially finicky to polish and you have better things to tend to." He said bowing at the waist.

Bruce was still uncomfortable asking Danny for anything and let Alfred instruct him on what he should do. He has suspicions that Danny was being trained to tend to Damian should something happen to him. Alfred would come up with a contingency like that.

The others took to Danny as best as they could. Most treated him like a brother with the exception of Tim and Damian. Tim couldn't really see past them being the same age but Danny was able to understand his babble about theories and help him. Thought Danny was also to wait out Tim's insomnia easily and take him to bed.

Damian had no issue seeing Danny as a servant which was exactly what he wanted. Dick would criticize him about being rude but Danny would assure him that Damian was not being rude, he was just giving Danny a job to do.

It was during an outing with Damian that Danny was put to the test. They were just visiting an art supply store. Danny carried Damian's bags to the car and put them away in the trunk. As he opened the door to let Damian in a group of kidnappers tried to steal the young master.

It was likely a crime of opportunity as they saw a rich boy and his butler out and about.

As the group tried to drive off with Damian in tow, all the tires on their van blew out as Danny had already thrown down caltrops under the ties.

Gracefully and with the dignity expected of a bulter he pried the rough hands off of Damian, breaking every finger as he went.

"Please refrain from such brutish actions. I'd usually be unwilling to let this go but you must be very desperate to commit a crime so blatantly as to steal a child. I'm in a rush to get the young master home for dinner. So remain here, the police will be here in a few moments."

With that Danny escorted Damian into the car and drove them home.

[kaiser1ns]

#. A KISS TO PROVE IT

featuring 𝗶𝘁𝗼𝘀𝗵𝗶 𝘀𝗮𝗲 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

fluff + slight suggestive. for him kissing wasn't special, but his actions told you otherwise.

You are thirteen. A teenager—well, at least at the start of teenage life. Watching movies where the main characters share their first kiss has become fascinating. What’s so special about kissing, anyway? Do you just walk up to a random boy and kiss him, or do you tell the friend sitting next to you that you want to try it?

"Sae, do you know anything about kissing?" you ask, glancing at him as he remains glued to the TV, watching yet another football game.

"Huh? You mean that disgusting thing adults do when they love each other?"

Love each other? The thought rolls around your mind. Do you really have to love someone to kiss them?

“Well, I think it’s romantic,” you counter.

He finally looks at you, leaning slightly closer. “What’s so romantic about swapping germs with someone else?”

Typical boy—he doesn’t get it.

But what if? What if you kissed someone you really, really liked? What if he was the boy sitting next to you, holding your hand like he is now, his curious gaze waiting for an answer? Would it still be disgusting? Or would it be... something else?

“When a boy and a girl fall in love, they do more than just hold hands or visit each other’s houses,” you murmur, your cheeks heating under his stare.

At your words, Sae lets go of your hand, and you suddenly wish you hadn’t said anything, but then he speaks.

"Do you want to try?” he asks but you don’t answer. You can’t. Your heart is pounding, but he leans in before and... It’s quick, awkward, and ends almost before it begins—a brush of lips that leaves your mind with questions.

“That’s it?” he asks, skeptic and unimpressed by the mere act of kissing. You’re stunned silent, your lips tingling. But Sae, who is never satisfied, leans in again. “Let me prove it—kissing is gross.”

This time, it’s slower, more deliberate, and definitely less awkward. It’s warm, it’s strange, and you can’t help but think he’s wrong. It’s not gross at all. This time, the kiss lingers, as if he’s trying to understand why you find it so fascinating. The world seems to fade away for a moment, until—

The front door slams open.

“I’m home!” a familiar voice echoes through the house, followed by hurried footsteps. Sae pulls back instantly, his expression blank as if nothing happened.

Rin appears in the doorway, stopping dead in his tracks. He blinks at the two of you, then points at you and Sae accusingly. “Why is Nii-chan eating her face?”

You want the ground to swallow you whole.

Sae groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Rin, stop saying stupid things.”

As Rin bounds away, laughing, you sit frozen, your cheeks on fire. Sae exhales, leaning back on the couch like it never happened. “See? Disgusting,” he mutters, though his tone sounds less sure now but he still reached out to hold your hand.

Some things, it seems, are better left in theory.

When Sae left for Spain, it felt like your heart had been ripped out. The boy you’d spent so many afternoons with, arguing, laughing, and most importantly sharing your first kiss, was gone. And the distance between you, one thing remained certain: Sae was your first love, and you fully intended for him to be your last.

Now you are seventeen, in a cozy hotel room, sitting on the plush couch, it feels like no time has passed. He’s here again, leaning into you, and the world-famous athlete—Itoshi Sae the pride of Japan, playing for Re Al is nowhere to be seen.

To you, he’s just Sae. The same annoying, sarcastic boy who always got under your skin, except now.

His lips are on yours, firm and demanding, as if making up for lost time. His hands find their way to your waist, pulling you closer, and you don’t resist. How could you, when you’ve been missing him just as much?

His mouth trails down your jawline, his breath hot against your skin, and you let out a soft sigh, tangling your fingers in his hair. “You’ve been gone too long,” you whisper, between kisses. Sae pauses just long enough to smirk against your lips. “Not my fault you’re terrible at long-distance relationships.”

You roll your eyes, but the playful retort dies on your tongue as his lips find yours again, hungrier this time. He’s missed you—he doesn’t need to say it; it’s in the way he kisses you, the way he is finally claiming his most important prize.

“Still gross?” you tease, pulling back just enough to meet his gaze.

His eyes lock onto yours, and for a moment, his expression softens. “Very gross,” he says, before pulling you back into another kiss, as if trying to prove his point all over again.

You melt into him, your heart pounding as your hands clutch his shirt, desperate to close the space between you. It’s overwhelming, messy, and intense, but neither of you care.

Right now Sae isn’t Japan’s treasure. He’s yours.

©2024 kaiser1ns do not copy, repost or modify my work.

[bbokicidal]

But What Do I Know? | SKZ [Virgin!OT8]

Just some odd headcanons I've got regarding Virgin!SKZ. Some things I think they're into, how they behave as virgins, etc. But again, what do I know?~

Members are grouped into categories for these headcanons.

Warnings: Afab!Reader; 18+ Content; Oral sex, fingering, spitting/spit mentioned, dry grinding/humping, cum, makeouts, biting

NSFW Masterlist | SFW Masterlist

Group Number One : The 'I swear I didn't know it would happen!' Boys [The Pants Cummers]

Virgin!Minho swears on his life - to himself, of course - that he WILL NOT come in his pants the first time the two of you have a heavy makeout session - but it happens anyways. And he realizes after that, that he kind of.. likes it? He learns if he grinds on you a little he also gets the friction from his jeans and that helps him come even faster. Forget being put down because he reaches his high in just a few minutes - he's trying to makeout with you as long as possible to see how many times he can come.

Virgin!Jisung is WILDLY embarrassed when it happens, until he realizes you never noticed. Even if he'd gotten all blubbery and started to whimper in nervousness, you'd though he was just enjoying himself and whining into your mouth because he was happy. But then he excused himself to the bathroom to clean up and took nearly half an hour, his ears still beet red when he returned to you. You'd asked what happened and when he was honest, you reassured him it was fine that it happened - and that you thought it was kind of hot. Now, he lets it happen to please you because he knows you like it - which makes him love it even more.

Virgin!Jeongin isn't really sure what happened the first time. He was making out with you, you were on top of him - and then his thighs were trembling and you were sitting up in shock. As soon as he realizes he'd just nutted in his boxers, he's flushed in the neck and chest with embarrassment. How did that happen - WHY did that happen? He's all whiny and whispering about how he's so so sorry that he'd just done that with you on top of him. But when you shush him and whisper that it's okay while kissing his neck and tugging his collar down to mark him up, he'd begun to think maybe it wasn't that bad. And if you kept kissing him like that it was definitely going to happen again.

Group Number Two : The Masters with their Hands

Virgin!Chris doesn't really have full confidence in himself when he slips a hand in your panties for the first time, but he'd done as much research as he possibly could before his date with you earlier that night so he was sure he'd be fine. And his confidence only raised after you let your head tip back and moaned out his name. He'd let out a sigh as he pushed two fingers into your warmth, new to the feeling of being inside of you but enjoying it nonetheless. And your reactions, your whining of how much you loved his hands and how big his knuckles are, how good they feel on your walls - Yeah, he's a bit cocky after that and no longer worried about if he'll be able to please you.

Virgin!Hyunjin knows what he's doing in theory - not in practice. He did no research but it can't be that hard; and for him, it's not. It seems to come to him naturally (after you having to guide his thumb to where your clit actually is), with his middle and ring fingers pushing deep into your pussy until your thighs were quivering against his hips. He's a master at multitasking, able to rub your clit with his thumb and pump his fingers into you almost too quickly too well. And all while hovering above you, biting his lip and looking so good, too? Almost a bit mean of him to be this pretty and talented in bed.

Virgin!Seungmin really only is good at this because he plays games on PC. He's use to clicking the keys quickly, using multiple fingers at once - so you'd best bet he's good at fucking his fingers into you so quick it's got you nearly crying against the sheets. Also another who's good at multitasking - again, because of gaming - but it's with his other hand this time. And his mouth. He'll lean down to suck on your clit, fuck two or three fingers into you, and reach up to grope and tug at your chest with what feels like practiced (even though it's not) ease. Also mean in bed but.. in a different way. ;]

Group Number Three : The 'I can't help it' Boys [The Bed Humpers]

Virgin!Changbin swears that he didn't even realize he was grinding against the mattress while making out with you until he was making a mess on the sheets. Usually it's you he teases about your orgasm hitting early or the way your legs tremble in need when he sucks on your chest during heavier makeout sessions. But this time? This time it was him being teased, plump cheeks rosy pink and eyes darting over the sheets where pre had leaked from his tip and smeared on the mint of your bed. He's pouty, swearing up and down he didn't realize he had done that, before being welcomed back into your waiting arms with a shy smile. He waits until he has your reassurance that it's okay and it's nothing to be embarrassed about before he lets it happen again - and even blushes and gets shy when you ask him a few weeks later why he isn't humping the blankets while he sucks on your neck and chest. You think it's cute - and he's happy to please.

Virgin!Felix is.. kind of shameless about it. He's happy to let you know he's into you by touching and kissing and whatever - but he's a little too shy, and inexperienced, to even think about grinding on you. Your hips? His hips? Not connecting just yet. He's waaaay too shy to do anything like that. But he does want the friction, does crave the touch and grind of it all, so he'll go for the next best thing - laying between your legs while he kisses you all nice and slow in the early morning and rolling his hips down against the mattress. The feeling of his pajama pants rubbing on his cock is perfect, and the stiffness of the mattress... It's enough to satisfy him without getting too touchy with you just yet. And you seem to find it cute, too, that he humps the mattress all shy and sweet. If he notices you looking or watching he'll probably stop but any other time he's happy to keep going. Though there have been a few times he's gotten closer and humped your thigh instead. Not that you were complaining.

Group Number Four : The '*moans while neck deep in pussy*' Boys [The Messy Eaters]

Virgin!Hyunjin looooooves eating pussy. It's his favorite past time actually. Not busy? He's on his knees between your legs while you watch a show. Getting ready for sexy time? He's on his knees at the end of the bed waiting. Getting home from work? He's kissing you in the doorway and pinning you there so he can go down on you right away and relieve any stress. Honestly just a househusband with a nasty mouth who CANNOT keep his spit in it. It's like he's feral, almost. The type of guy who growls when you try to pull away or who bites at your thighs, nipping at your clit when you squirm too much. Again, so inexperienced that he's honestly not super great at eating you out - but does his best and is more than enough to please, at the cost of spit dripping down his chin and your thighs.

Virgin!Jisung. I've said it before, I'm saying it again!! Jisung likes to eat you out but really only when it's something casual and lazy. At first he was SO nervous because he was afraid he'd mess up or be bad at it - but then he realized, you're.. pretty chill about it all. You'll be on your phone and he'll be between your legs, sucking on your clit and dragging his tongue through your folds like you're the sweetest ice cream he's ever tasted. He's sweet when he eats you out and he's really careful about it, but he's.. drooling everywhere. Maybe even builds up the courage to spit on it if he thinks you're not paying attention, only to apologize and giggle when you flinch in surprise.

If y'all want a part two let me know - I have like 4-5 other groups already written in my notes lol.

Permanent Taglist :

@dwaekkicidal @jabmastersurpriseee @possum-playground

@thatonedarkskinnedsiren @oc3anfloor @theyadorevalerie

@jeonginsleftcheek

[inkedinshadows]

Double-edged Desires

Pairing: Azriel x f!reader x Eris

Summary: Azriel and Eris find themselves having to share a mate, and being away during the mating frenzy is never easy. For any one of you.

Warnings: smut, threesome, oral (f&m receiving), fingering, language

Word count: 3.3k

A/N: based on this request! Okay so, this turned into so much more than planned... I've never written Azriel and Eris together before tho, so for every Azris shipper out there, pls have mercy on me, but I actually like how it turned out. Especially cus I wasn't planning on anything beyond bickering and arguing for them and I fear I might have focused too much on them and not enough on y/n... and I didn't reread that many times, so excuse possible typose. Anyway okay bye enjoy <3

Azriel hated sharing a mate with Eris Vanserra.

It had been a shock to everyone when you discovered you had two mating bonds—with two very different males who couldn’t stand each other. They had argued at first over who should get to be with you, but you had been very adamant: you wouldn’t choose between them, and you would accept both bonds instead. The only thing left for them to do was accept your decision and try to make it work, doing their best to get along for your sake.

They had come to one important agreement: you always came first. In every situation. Your well-being, your happiness, your pleasure—all of it was their priority.

Which was why they had decided one of them should always be with you, especially now, during the first few weeks since your double mating ceremony, when the frenzy still hadn’t entirely passed.

But war and threats and death gods couldn’t be postponed, not even for you, and neither of them could refuse when they had to leave you for a few days to try to track down Koschei. They hadn’t talked much unless it was to discuss theories or mention you, but Azriel knew that, just like him, Eris was struggling.

Being away from you was a weight he could barely carry, and the frenzy only made it worse. Searching for clues and information helped, but when he lay down at night with nothing to do but think of you, Azriel would just stare at the ceiling for hours. It was the same for Eris—his shadows confirmed it in a whisper.

They could have helped each other, he supposed. After all, in the throes of passion, despite their focus on you, they had shared touches, kisses, sometimes more. And Azriel had long since stopped trying to convince himself he hadn’t enjoyed it. But he’d be damned before admitting it out loud. He was willing to bet it was the same for Eris, if his reactions to Azriel’s touch were any indication.

So they had spent days craving the touch of their mate—both of them knowing they could find some relief in each other and yet too stubborn to ask for it.

All that pent-up need and tension came crashing to the surface the moment they finally returned home and silently opened the door to your shared bedroom.

You were lying in bed, arms wrapped around your pillow, the sheets crumpled around your feet. A gentle breeze drifting in through the open window rustled the curtains, and the moonlight gave you an ethereal look as it bathed your sleeping form.

Your naked, sleeping form.

The sight was enough to stir a familiar hunger deep in Azriel’s core. His hand flexed at his side as if itching to reach out and touch you, and his Illyrian leathers were suddenly far too tight around his groin.

“Someone’s needy,” Eris whispered beside him, a tantalizing smirk curving his lips as always.

Azriel glanced at him—at the obvious bulge in his pants. “You’re one to talk.”

Eris’s annoying smirk only widened as he turned to face him. “Should we wake her?”

“No.” Azriel shot him a glare. “She’s sleeping.”

“Oh, come on, Shadowsinger.” Eris rolled his eyes. “She’s naked. We both know she doesn’t like sleeping that way. You really think it doesn’t mean anything?”

He knew Eris was right. It wasn’t hot enough yet to justify the open window, the discarded sheets, the lack of clothes. You were probably dealing with the same problem that had plagued him on the continent—surges of heat caused by the frenzy, which you usually handled by spending a good couple of hours locked inside with your mates. But they’d been away too long.

Eris took a step toward the bed, but Azriel shot out a hand and grabbed his arm to stop him. The redhead twirled around, an almost feral look in his amber eyes visible even in the darkness of the room.

“She needs me,” he seethed, yanking his arm free. At Azriel’s pointed look, he seemed to calm down. With a sigh, he added grudgingly, “Fine. Us. She needs us.”

Despite his own raging desire, despite the truth in Eris’s words and the need to touch you, taste you, bury himself inside you and never let go, Azriel still hesitated. You looked so peaceful as you slept—lips slightly parted, hair fanned out across the pillow, moonlight caressing your back and the curve of your ass.

“Just get changed and climb into bed, Vanserra,” he finally said. “Don’t you dare wake her up. You can wait until morning.”

No matter that he didn’t know how he would wait until morning while sleeping next to you, naked, after days of missing you.

The shuffling of sheets caught his attention, and both he and Eris turned just in time to see you stir slightly and roll onto your back. Azriel went rigid as your new position granted him a clear view of your body—from your soft breasts to the flare of your hips and the dip between your legs. Eris gasped softly at his side.

“Guys?” you mumbled, your voice thick with sleep. “Is that you?”

Both males immediately approached the bed, but Eris got there a second earlier. He flashed Azriel a gloating smile before reaching for you, running his slender fingers down your cheek.

“Hello, my darling,” he purred.

Azriel wanted to punch him in those perfect teeth.

Instead, he moved to your other side, wings tucked tight to his back so he could lean in close. “I'm sorry we woke you, angel,” he murmured. Unable to hold back any longer, he curled his hand around your waist, as if to pull you closer. Eris shot him a warning look, daring him to try.

“Don’t be,” you replied with a sleepy smile. “I’m not.”

You stretched with a soft hum, and Azriel's fingers squeezed you a bit tighter. Did you do it on purpose? Or were you just naively unaware of the effect you had on him? On both of them?

Lowering your arms again, your hands found their way to both their cheeks—one in each palm, your touch gentle as you welcomed them home.

“So,” you began, all traces of sleep gone from your voice, replaced by a teasing tilt, “who's getting the first kiss?”

They both moved, but Azriel was faster this time. His mouth found yours, lips finally meeting again, tongues moving in a familiar rhythm. But the tenderness of the kiss was short-lived as the frenzy overtook you both.

Your hand slipped from Eris's cheek to tangle in Azriel's hair, pulling him closer and drawing a low groan from his chest. His arm wrapped more securely around your waist, pulling you flush against him, and he was only dimly aware of Eris kissing your neck as he got lost in the hungry need to claim your mouth and every other inch of you.

But you pulled back before he could go further.

A satisfied smile graced your lips, but you didn't give him time to act. Instead, you tugged on Eris’s hair.

The Heir of Autumn lifted his head, and Azriel could only watch as the two of you shared a kiss as passionate as the one you'd shared with him.

He didn't know how you did it, but you always managed to split your time and your affection equally between your two mates. He loved that about you. It meant he didn't have to worry about you favoring and focusing only on Eris—which he was grateful for—but it also meant that you wouldn't favor and focus only on him.

Azriel shifted to lie more comfortably on the bed, planting a trail of open-mouthed kisses from your collarbone to your soft breasts. He captured one nipple between his lips, flicking it with the tip of his tongue while kneading your other breast with his hand.

The scent of your arousal soon filled the room and Azriel's senses. After days away from you, it made him need you the way he needed air to breathe. More, even.

His hand caressed down your stomach to where he knew he'd find you already wet. But instead, he found Eris’s hand already there, his fingers buried inside you, pumping slowly. A low growl rumbled in his throat, but as if sensing it, Eris moved his thumb aside, granting Azriel access to your clit.

It wasn't enough, but it was better than nothing.

You broke off your kiss with Eris when a moan spilled from your lips. Squirming between them, you spread your legs wider in a silent request for more.

“I’ve missed you,” Azriel murmured, releasing your nipple to look up at you, the pad of his thumb pressed firmly against your clit.

Of course, Eris had to chime in and steal your attention. “I’ve missed you more,” he added, pushing his fingers deeper inside you and drawing another moan.

“Guys,” you chuckled, though your voice was a little breathless, “I’ve missed you too. Both of you.” Your hands reached out to palm the bulges in their pants. “And I need you…”

They both sucked in a breath, but while Azriel pressed himself eagerly into your touch, ready to peel off his fighting leathers and bury himself inside you, Eris still didn’t withdraw his fingers from your cunt.

Azriel shot him a glare, but the redhead only smirked before positioning himself between your legs. “You should learn the art of patience, Shadowsinger,” he drawled, then he lowered his head and closed his lips around your clit.

A wave of annoyance surged through Azriel at the teasing reprimand, as if he hadn’t spent hours worshipping you and making sure you were fully satisfied before ever allowing himself to come. As sharing you with Eris wasn’t proof enough of just how patient he could be.

“Az…”

Your voice snapped him back to you. You were biting your lower lip, soft whimpers escaping you as Eris pleasured you, but your hands were now working to unbuckle Azriel's pants. When you finally got them undone, he stood to take them off, along with the rest of his clothes, discarding everything on the floor.

The moment he joined you again on the bed, your hands were on him. You wrapped your fingers around his hard cock, giving him a gentle squeeze that made him buck in your grasp. He barely had time to steady himself before you propped up on one forearm and guided him into your mouth.

Azriel gasped, his eyes nearly rolling back as you swirled your tongue around his leaking tip. “Fuck…” he breathed. His fingers curled into your hair, and then he was thrusting shallowly into your warm, welcoming mouth.

Your muffled moans mixed with Azriel’s and with Eris’s pleased hums against your flesh every time your hips bucked—his lips and fingers relentless in their assault on your senses.

As you took Azriel deeper and relaxed your throat around him, he groaned, chest heaving and head falling back. His hips jerked forward instinctively, and you gagged around him, but you didn’t pull back or signal for him to stop. You simply looked up at him with those pretty eyes of yours, now wide with lust and fluttering beneath Eris’s expert touch.

Azriel knew he wasn’t going to last much longer, not if you kept looking at him like that while sucking him off so eagerly. He managed to hold back for a few more moments, but as pressure built and release surged closer, he pulled out of your mouth with a grunt.

You gasped for air, lips still parted, as if expecting him to push back in.

Azriel’s hand moved from the back of your head to your cheek, his thumb brushing over your lip. “Not yet, my love,” he murmured, his voice slightly breathless. “I don’t want to come just yet.”

Before you could reply, Eris lifted his head from between your thighs. “Should we let her come, though?” he mused as his fingers curled inside you, drawing a whimper from your lips. “She’s so close. I can tell.”

Azriel glanced at him, a silent understanding passing between them. You came first. Always. Even if it wasn't by his hand. Not yet, at least.

“What do you think, angel?” he asked, turning his gaze back to you. “Should we let you come already?”

You nodded, eyes darting between the two of them. “Yes… I need to come.”

Azriel looked back at Eris with a smirk. “Make her come, Vanserra.”

Eris didn’t waste a second. He lowered his mouth to your cunt again, and as much as Azriel wanted to be the one tasting you and making you squirm and moan, he couldn't deny how incredibly arousing it was to watch Eris Vanserra feast on you.

Your hand slipped into Azriel's, holding onto him as your breaths turned into pants. He leaned down to capture your lips in a heated kiss while his other hand cupped your breast, skilled fingers teasing your nipple with practiced ease.

It was only a matter of moments before your body arched off the bed, your muscles tensing and trembling as you came on Eris’s tongue and fingers. Azriel swallowed your soft cries, unwilling to break the kiss just yet.

Only when you relaxed again did he pull back, at the same time Eris lifted his head. You were panting, one final whimper escaping your lips as Eris slowly pulled his fingers out of you. But just as he brought them to his mouth to lick them clean, you reached out to stop him.

“Wait,” you urged. “Let Azriel do it.”

Both males froze. Azriel's eyes widened in surprise, Eris merely arched a brow.

“You want him to suck my fingers?”

“Yes.” You pushed yourself up slightly, a sly smile curving your lips. “Give him a chance to taste me.”

It was just an excuse, Azriel knew that. Why taste you from Eris's fingers when he could do it directly from the source? But he also knew that you loved watching them touch not just you, but each other as well.

It was how it had all started, after all. You had asked them if they could please kiss each other, at least once, to know what it felt like. It had taken a little convincing, but neither of them could ever say no to you. You'd asked again after that. Sometimes not only for a kiss. And sometimes, you didn't even have to ask.

“Fine,” Azriel grumbled.

You and Eris both stared at him, likely surprised he'd agreed so quickly. But after fucking Eris while he went down on you, licking his fingers didn't seem like such a big deal.

The Heir of Autumn turned toward him, that infuriating smirk still plastered on his face. “Eager, Shadowsinger?”

“Shut up, Vanserra,” he growled back. “Just give me your damn hand.”

Eris opened his mouth to reply, but you spoke first.

“Boys, boys, please,” you said with a soft laugh. “No need to get heated over this, don't you think?”

“Sorry, my love,” they answered in unison.

They exchanged an awkward glance, but then Eris lifted his hand, his lips curling in amusement.

Azriel didn't let himself second-guess it as he grabbed the male's wrist and tugged him closer. He glanced at you—still smiling at them—one last time before sealing his lips around the two fingers Eris had buried inside you.

Your slick release still coated them, the familiar taste flooding his mouth, laced now with something distinctly Eris. His skin.

Azriel swirled his tongue around the long digits, torn between savoring it or getting it over with quickly. He could already hear the comments Eris was certainly holding back, especially when that small smile curved into a full grin. Azriel shot him a glare, sharp enough to silence any smug remarks, but Eris just arched an amused brow in response.

Even after Azriel pulled away, the two males exchanged a long, heated glance—only for your voice to pull them both back to earth.

“Beautiful,” you murmured, your hungry gaze sweeping over them. Azriel felt desire stir in his gut again, but you turned to Eris, nodding toward his still clothed form. “Don’t you think it’s time you took those off?”

Eris nodded instantly. “Of course, my darling.”

As he stood to undress, Azriel moved to take the spot Eris had just vacated—right between your legs, where he wanted to be. But you shifted first, flashing him a playful wink as you got on your hands and knees.

Azriel grinned, his hands sliding over your hips. “Is this how you want me?”

Eris, now fully naked, settled in front of you. “Us, Shadowsinger,” he corrected smoothly. “It’s how she wants us.” He caressed your cheek. “Isn’t that right, my love?”

“C’mon, guys,” you mumbled, though there was a hint of amusement in your voice, “you know you don’t need to fight over me. Why don’t you kiss each other while fucking me to make up for it?”

Azriel didn’t particularly care about the first part of that suggestion. All he heard was your permission to fuck you, and he was more than ready bury his cock inside you.

Eris replied with something Azriel didn’t listen to, one hand already tightening around your waist while he lined himself up with your dripping folds. Just brushing his cock against your cunt made his breath hitch. But instead of pushing inside, he glanced up and met Eris’s eyes over your back.

Despite their differences and apparent dislike for each other, they’d developed a silent language since your mating ceremony—one that didn't need words. After Eris positioned himself in front of you, his cock brushing your parted lips, he gave a small nod. That was all he took.

They thrust forward in perfect unison.

Three moans echoed in the room—yours the loudest of all—as they filled you from both ends.

It was heaven.

It had only been a few days since Azriel last felt you clench around his cock, but fuck, he had missed it. Would always miss it. Frenzy or not, he loved you.

You took them so beautifully, every movement of your body pulling them deeper, every sound from your lips making Azriel want to come far too soon. Their rhythm was one they'd practiced and refined—measured thrusts, timed perfectly, all for your pleasure.

But even as Azriel focused on the feel of you wrapped around him he felt Eris's gaze lingering on him.

“You heard the lady,” Eris said, his voice strained as your mouth moved over his cock. “So what are we waiting for?”

Azriel lifted a brow, hips never slowing. “Eager to kiss me, Eris?”

The Autumn Heir faltered for just a beat before his thrusts resumed, amber eyes glinting. He leaned forward, sliding deeper into your mouth—not that you minded, judging by the muffled moan you gave—and leaned ever closer to Azriel.

“You suck my fingers and suddenly you use my first name?” he drawled.

Azriel blinked. He hadn’t even realized he'd said it. It had just come out naturally.

He wondered, briefly, how it would feel to hear Eris say his name in return.

“Shut up,” he muttered instead.

Still holding your waist with one hand, he reached up with the other and pulled Eris closer. Their mouths met in a heated, desperate kiss—both of them trying to take control, neither of them willing to give it.

The room filled with sound—skin on skin, soft gasps and muffled moans, the creak of the bed frame, and the wet, urgent heat of their kiss.

And as your body clenched around him and Eris's tongue slid against his, Azriel knew.

He was exactly where he was meant to be.

With his mate, and with whatever Eris Vanserra was starting to become.

Taglist: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @anarchiii @readinggeeklmao @anneas11 @lilah-asteria @lorosette @azrielsrealmate @pey2618 @mellowmusings @k8r123-blog @daughterofthemoons-stuff @minnieoo @saltedcoffeescotch @georgiadixon @quiet-because-it-is-a-secret @ivy-34 @yesiamthatwierd

[rafeslvbug]

ohh i already have a req for pediatrician!rafe!! i would love to read something where reader is the one who's sick and he's there for her just like he's always there for her baby and he's like "you always take care of her, just let me take care of you now" <33

(got carried away, and missed the actual sick bits, but urm hope you like it anyways!!)

all through the night, you had been fine.

in the morning, you were far from it.

sneezing, small coughs and a cold you do doubt caught from one of the sickly kids at aurora’s daycare.

rafe had left earlier for work, leaving you to drop her off as you always did. not holding her hand or carrying her to the car as you would because you wouldn’t risk passing your cold to her. instead she just pouted and frowned the whole way to the car, wobbling on her legs and looking back at you every ten seconds to make sure you hadn’t run off without her.

when you arrived, you walked her insie, and remained standing so all she could do was bring herself nearly to tears over not being able to get a goodbye kiss. you had to blow her one, for her chubby little hand to catch. even this didn’t stop her from racing forward and tumbling on unsteady legs to cling to yours, babbling words along the lines of “bye-bye momma.”

in many ways sending your child off to daycare felt wrong, then again every parent did this when they got off maternity leave. you sniffled the whole way back to the car, not because you were getting emotional but because your cold only seemed to grow by the minute.

reluctantly, you had to call your boss at the hotel and ring in sick, finding a quick replacement for your job shortly thereafter. driving home with a headache felt like a terrible idea, but you did it nonetheless.

the day was spent drowned in tissues, which you later forced yourself to clean up, and tea cups that you drank religiously.

rafe would be home soon, and then he’d leave to pick aurora up as he did because you were supposed to be working. but you couldn’t have a paediatrician getting sick, passing it to his patients or aurora. so you sterilised the house. the best anyone who’s sick can manage, confining yourself only to your bedroom, surrounded by medicine, water and the tv noise.

when the door shut, you didn’t hear it, rafe heard the tv though. peeking his head through the door, he smiled at the sight of you, whereas you felt most certainly dead inside. “hey, why’re you home?” he asks, changing out of his scrubs into something more comfortable to go pick aurora up.

“i’m sick.” you groan, watching his face morph into sympathy.

“ah shit, how you feeling?” he settles himself on the edge of the bed, reaching towards you but you move backwards.

“terrible, and you shouldn’t touch a sick person, rafe, you’ll get sick yourself,” you warn him, yet he only shakes his head with a chuckle.

“baby i deal with sick patients daily, an’ i come out healthy as anything, trust me, you won’t make me sick.” he tucks some hair behind your ear and out of the way, hand travelling down to close around yours.

“stay home tomorrow, i’ll drop aurora off in the morning,” he says, giving your hand a squeeze before he stands to get his coat and keys.

“no, i mean i dropped her off today, i think it’ll be fine,” you argue, not wanting him to adjust his shift or do more than he should have to. he only gives you a blank look, however, disapproving of your refusal.

“not a debate, sweetheart, you take care of her all the time, it’s my turn now to take care of her and you, especially you,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, testing the ‘i won’t get sick’ theory to it’s very limits.

“take the day off tomorrow!” he calls before leaving, shutting the door to get aurora.

-

the next day was spent with him, taking the later shift, carrying aurora into the room to give you a goodbye wave and then leaving to drop her off.

he left you with a sweet note, a tray with tea, medicine and breakfast with fruits he claimed would help your immune system. and who were you to argue with a doctor?

he came home from work quicker than usual, still in his scrubs and with aurora supported in one arm, his bag in the other, having picked her up. he set her down on the floor of the bedroom, letting her fiddle with her toys while he came over to you. “hey sicko,” he murmurs, tossing his bag to the ground and chuckling when you narrowly avoid the kiss he was about to give you by flicking your head to the side.

“seriously, stop tryna catch my cold!” you scold, but he kisses your cheek anyway.

“not gonna catch anything,” he mumbles, sitting down next to you.

“how was work? and how’s rory?” you ask, peering over the bed to see your daughter, fixated on a little knot in the strap of rafe’s bag, her tongue stuck out in concentration.

“work’s work, and ro-ro’s good, hey do you wanna tell momma what you got at daycare today?” he says, calling over to her.

“yeah,” she squeals excitedly, rushing to her feet and holding out the gold star sticker she got on her finger. “look, momma!”

you feign a gasp, breaking into a smile, “well done sweetie!”

“yeah she got it for good behaviour, or whatever one year olds can do,” he grins, ruffling her hair before she plops herself back on the ground. rafe grabs ahold of your hand, gently tugging you with him as he stand, “come on, baby, gotta rid of you that virus.”

rafe had no care that he might just contract your sickness, none at all when he joined you in the shower or washed your hair, or repeatedly tried to kiss you, claiming it was harder to spread your cold that way and that you should listen to him because he was a doctor. he made you tea, and dried your hair, fed aurora and he buried you with blankets to make sure you were warm at night, even if you refused to let him cuddle you.

he’d make up for it when you were better. and at this rate, this was going to be very soon.

taglist: @starkeyjoseph @rafesbabygirlx @slut-4-rafey @lanaslushworld @littlelamy @rain-likes-purple @sunny1616 @csturnioloswifey @silkylovey @mak1777

[sqgeism]

haii!! Can I ask the reaction of amphoreus men to the reader don’t feel like they deserve them and feeling guilty about it? 🙏

𐙚 𓏵𓏵𓏵 𐙚 if i'm turning in your stomach | amphoreus men x gender neutral reader

💌 — ; am i making you feel sick ? he's so.. happy with you, and you don't seem to understand. they're in the glory and light as a chrysos heir, what could have possibly be seen in you for them to ever want to share that light?

love mail — haiii anonnie ! thank you for requesting :D in this fic, i mention the very likely theory of phainon being kevin from hi3 ! it isn't a major plot point but it is mentioned so if ure confused dont worry so am i ヽ(´Ａ`)ﾉ love u guys mwah ! 2/5.

now.. anaxa isn't a fan of gossip, accepting words at face value is foolish. especially since he is a man from a field of alchemy, trying and testing until he sees results. in this case, the truth.

but when a mutual companion, that babbling blue haired student of his, tells him that you've been feeling rather.. sad recently, he was determined to find out why.

in your defense, you were never meant to have him figure out, but this concoction you were working on was really starting to get on your nerves. you figured anaxa was still at the academy, so you were free to yell at the vial of glowing liquid like you could peer pressure it into getting it to cooperate. "stupid, stupid." you grumbled, your fists curling into a ball on the table. "i hate this, why can't i just... be like anaxa? he must feel ashamed with me. i can't do something as simple as a healing potion, after all."

you know these words aren't true, but you can't completely erase the fact you still feel them. your boyfriend was praised for his expertise in his field, couldn't you at least have learned something?—

it was then that you felt someone press up against your back, head leaning over your shoulder as anaxa sighs. his hands wrap around your waist, looking at your face like you're the moon. "your ingredients are perfect, dove. down to the measurements, but i'm sure your error comes from your order of mixing. listen to me, start with.."

you listen to his guide, trying to perfectly replicate the sequence as he speaks, but it's distracting. he hasn't.. stopped looking away from you while you work. not to mention, his hands trace the curves of your waist, as if keeping your body to memory. his sultry voice in your ear is NOT helping either.

"i heard you, you know." he mumbles, shifting his head to press kisses to your shoulder blades, somewhat relishing the way you shiver.

"do you really think i'd ever focus my time on someone who self proclaims their inadequacy?" you don't answer. "your intelligence is unmatched, dove. i couldn't think of anyone with a brain like yours, while also having a heart kind enough to open a man like me."

his advances move up to your neck, and at this point, the potion is long forgotten. your hands are too shaky to focus anyway. "please.. never think you're not good enough for me. i couldn't handle you leaving me for false truths."

your husband is a literal king, warrior, and an unmovable force.. you wonder why he settled down with an ordinary mortal. you're not quite in the spotlight, and instead, a humble historian. which means you're well versed in mydei's tales, especially ones pertaining to his past. according to rumor; mydei is fated to fall for someone for all of eternity, they were originally a warrior sworn to him, but had died tragically for mydei in the middle of a battle, in fear that the enemy had possibly been able to reach his weakest spot. after a desperate plea from the gods, they had been kind enough to have his lovers soul reborn every time they've come face to face with death. you.. were apparently the first one he's met ever since 'your death'.

and while you're.. comforted by that idea, the fact that you're fated to find mydei in every life you'll live, you also feel.. unsure. had the chrysos heir fallen for you, or for someone you used to be. and you could never really live up to be who you were.

that person was a warrior, one mydei cherished like his other half, and the myths of the two of them are romantic. how he spent hundreds of years mourning them, how they haunted his narrative. could he ever truly love who you are now?

"sweetheart?"

mydei's voice breaks through your thoughts, and you come back to reality—surrounded by your ancient maps and history. you're in your study, staring down at one of the many books written on the chrysos heirs. "are you staring at that old thing again? i told you, i don't like the way they drew me in that book." his laugh makes you feel guilty, you aren't even sure why. something about his love feels undeserving.

when you don't reply, he realizes you're not quite on a page about him.. but about you. your past life.

mydei knows how you feel about it, you've talked about it under the moon with him in hopes that its light will keep your secret safe. but he knows reassurance won't fix your insecurity easily, he needs time, and he'll give you all of it. he's waited to find you for all these years, what kind of man would he be to make you think you're anything less than precious?

carefully turning your body to him, his hand trailing up your cheek as he feels his heart ache. "sweetheart, my darling.." before he can even finish, you lean your head against his bare chest, listening to his heartbeat in silence. "mydei, do you promise.. that this heart is mine? you.. you aren't after someone who i once was, and rather who i am now?"

he knows he'll have time to give you proper reassurance, but he knows you just need a few words now. "i promise, with all i am, that i have fallen in love with you all over again. and that i am yours, body and soul."

with all the mystery that surrounds your boyfriends identity, you can't help but think about it as well. do you.. really know him? does he not trust you to know him? you aren't sure. maybe you aren't as special as you thought you had been, that phainon's sweet words of how much he loves you are.. false prayers.

but you have no reason to doubt him, he's never stayed out too late or hung around people that made you question his motives, he's a good man. and you're starting to think that you don't deserve him for doubting that.

the idea clouds your mind the whole day, and for aeon's sake.. you and him are having a date night at his place. he notices it quickly, how your mind just can't seem to focus. how you move away from his touches and hesitate with every kiss, was there something troubling you? was he troubling you? that's when he's had enough of the lack of communication, he turns off the tv, pulls the blankets down, and gives you a confused but also rather upset look. "honey, what's going on in that gorgeous head of yours?

he holds his hand out to you, but you move away, the cold shoulder has never been so sweet. "phai.." you hesitate to finish your sentence, but phainon waits.

he's been known for his patience, he always has been. he was a composed man, a gentleman, he could surely hold himself togethe—

"am.. am i really anything special to you?"

he feels his heart sink to his stomach.

there's an sting that he's never quite felt before, overwhelming his body greatly. he's sure he can hear his heartbeat, or perhaps lack thereof, it's as if his world has stopped at those words.

you've begun to tear up now. "i don't know i just.. the people have been telling me things— and i'm realizing now that i don't.. i don't really know anything about you and.. i.. i'd want to get to know you better, but i understand if you don't want to, and don't trust me but—"

seeing you cry makes him remember something distant, a life he once lived in a different world. making someone he also loved so dearly cry because of what he's done.

phainon crumbles, moving closer to you to wipe your tears. you two are face to face now, his lips only a breath away as he's reminded why he loves you so much.

you're you, so human, so selfless. how could he be blind to your struggle, when he claims to watch you so carefully? "oh, angel. i'm so.. so sorry. there are things i cannot tell you yet, but i can tell you that i could never let my heart be taken by anyone else."

feather light kisses press against your eyelids, and you shudder at the contact. "sweet, sweet angel. please don't cry. i promise i'll make it up to you one day."

© sqgeism or wtv (^_^;)

[bezierballad]

What we know about Susie's home life (so far)

MAJOR SPOILERS FOR DELTARUNE CHAPTERS 3-4 (and Chapters 1-2 if you haven’t managed to complete those before Chapters 3 & 4 were released.)

The topic of Susie’s home life is something that’s been floating around in the Deltarune community for quite a bit. It’s only ever vaguely touched on in the games themselves.

But from what little we can gather (including a bit of lore reveal from Chapter 3) Susie’s living conditions are very much implied to be less than pleasant.

Chapter 1 introduces us to the characters of the Deltarune universe, including Susie. In short, she’s brash, she’s abrasive, she’s mean to others, she’s physically violent, she wears ragged clothes, and she eats a lot. A lot lot. Including inedible things such as chalk. At one point she mentions that the only thing she ate that morning was chalk.

The ending of Chapter 2 only fuels the implications of the above traits: Toriel invites Susie to stay for the night, to which she gladly accepts after some hesitation. After that, Toriel lets her use the phone to call her parents and ask them for permission, to which she also agrees.

However, when Toriel is out of frame, Susie never actually does that. Hell, she doesn’t even reach for the phone. Instead she just… kind of stands there for a few seconds until Toriel’s out of the room, then she flops onto the couch.

Many people caught onto this and thought “well, maybe she’s an orphan” or “she’s homeless.”

Chapter 3 kind of debunks both of these things. (For those who haven’t played this far, this is your final warning.)

For the first time in the game, Susie talks a bit about her personal life: she was never able to make any real friends of her own both because nobody wanted to be close to her and because her family moved around a lot.

So, this at least confirms that she does have parents (or at the very least, moral guardians) and that, no, she’s not actually homeless.

Nonetheless, her living conditions are implied to be less than pleasant.

There’s something else that comes up way earlier in Chapter 3 that hints at Susie’s living conditions.

Remember this weird empty bedroom that comes up when Ralsei is explaining to Susie and Kris that everyone in the dark world is merely an illusion?

The walls are cracked, there’s only two pieces of furniture—a bed and a chair, the latter of which seems to have a torn mattress and a stained bedpost—and the shelf is completely empty.

What’s especially noteworthy is the poster on the wall: a godzilla-like entity tearing through a city. Kind of looks like something you’d see in Susie’s room, doesn’t it?

Of course there’s no confirmation that this is her room, but if it is, it speaks volumes about what her life at home is like.

There’s other stuff that further pushes this theory; in Chapter 2 when Ralsei is showing her and Kris that he made them their own bedrooms in the castle, she has this specific reaction:

Her wording and expressions seem to imply that she either doesn't have her own bedroom at home, or that, she's never been given "her own room... like this" (as in she's never had a cool-looking bedroom with a lot of stuff in it, instead only ever having a drab empty bedroom with cracked walls.)

And there's also her reaction to seeing the interior of Ralsei's completely barren bedroom in Chapter 4:

And then there's the letter she writes to "Alvin" at the request of his father, Gerson, who she meets and forms a bond with in the church Dark World.

Alvin Your old man was proud of you. The reason he didnt come to church alot is beacause he wanted you to follow your dream. Hes sorry he never said that right. So write your own story's. Its okay if even if there not perfect. Sinserely a friend

Notice how many typos and punctuation errors there are for someone who's supposedly in high school.

There are many possible interpretations to this: maybe she could have an untreated learning disability that she never got help for, or maybe she's been in and out of school throughout her life (since again, she's moved a lot and was never in one place for a long time) and was never educated enough on writing. Or she's just bad at grammar, that's also a possibility.

The biggest nail in the coffin that speaks volumes about Susie's home life would have to be the ending of Chapter 4, where we (along witht the characters) get hit in the face with this:

Kris and Susie arrive home to find Toriel jamming in the middle of the living room with Sans. On a first playthrough this seems like a funny awkward moment tossed in to break up the constant tension and grimness of the third act... but you realize Toriel is drunk here. And we know she's drunk because she's giggling hyperactively and rambling and is holding a wine glass for a split second.

Susie appears to realize this immediately, because she actually refuses Toriel's offer to stay another night at their place.

Her discomfort, the way her eyes widened when Toriel inadvertently calls her "honey", and her slamming the door on the way out pretty much implies that at least one of her parents is an alcoholic. And that she's likely experienced this sort of behavior before.

So what's going on?

Deltarune is only at its halfway point, so we can't say for certain. But going over what we know, Susie likely

doesn't get to eat a lot at home.

has moved from place to place a lot.

has an almost empty bedroom and other poor living conditions

has below average writing and spelling

and likely lives with an alcoholic guardian(s)

If I had to make my own theory based on this it evidence, it seems that whoever Susie lives with is struggling with poverty (which is not helped by the implied alcoholism). They're unable to afford staying in one place permanently, hence why Susie's moved around a lot and why she's obsessed with food (her family not being able to afford much.) We don't know if her parents are abusive, but they're definitely hinted to be either negligent or alcoholic or both. And that Susie would prefer to be far away from them and sees more of a mother figure in Toriel (who offers her comfort, food, and a safe haven) up until seeing her drunk at the end of Chapter 4, where that mother figure image completely crumbles the moment Susie walked through that door.

Of course, this is all pure speculation: for what I know, Toby Fox could confirm that Susie's parents and home life are actually far different that what we're shown. Who knows-

[toothfa-1-ry]

LOVE THEORY 101

Tw: dead dove do not eat,manipulating, gaslighting, torture (ig but not in details), just messed up af

Husband! Salesman x wife!reader

Your scared.

Terrified actually and yet you still plant a soft kiss on your husband's cheek before he goes of to work, like you always did every single day without fail

He bends down slightly for you to be comfortable, a smile gracing his handsome features which you observe as he breaks away, whispering you a soft "goodbye" before he walks out of your house

You notice the way his smile never really reaches his eye, the way it vanishes immediately the second he's not facing you but you know better to question him

He likes it when you obey him, nodding to his evey word silently, soaking up his instructions. He likes how you don't question him,

Atleast not anymore

No, he demands that you don't question him

To be really honest, you and your husband never really got married, even if you did who would show up?

By law, the both of you were wedded as a married couple, the both of you signed the marriage contract, followed by a gentle kiss and some not very gentle ones

In theory your husband was perfect

He was gentle, slowly guiding you whenever the both of you went out, his hand on your lower back or his hand gently resting on your hips

Gently brushing your hair back whenever it got in the way, making patterns on your skin while you layed in bed next to him

He was sweet, whenever people saw the both of you in public they would gush, sometimes faces painted with envy, sometimes faces painted with joy upon seeing such a pure love

Young highschool couples gazing at the both of you while the girl would excitedly whisper to her boyfriend, saying that was what she wanted them to be in the future

Or old couples approaching the both of you, telling the both of you to stay happy and to hold on to eachother, they swear that young people these days don't know how to love eachother but says that the both of you were proving then otherwise.

He was wealthy too, and he made no efforts of hiding the fact. Buying you whatever you said you wanted- no he bought you things that you didn't even say you want. Even the smallest thing you glanced at was soon in the mercy of your palms, the receipt thrown away promptly

He even bought you your dream house, the very one you dreamed of having when you were a teenager, your teenage scrapbook filled with pictures of celebrity houses or pictures of houses from magazines, next to the pictures a lengthy description of how the house would look like

He made sure whatever you owned was perfect. Too perfect infact, it made your skin shiver

He strived for perfection, he expected it too

He was handsome, so very handsome. The first time you saw him you were left speechless, the air inside the room leaving you gasping, his dark eyes, smootly combed back hair and his smile. Oh god the smile that was etched in his face

His face

You could never forget it even if you tried too

Your a good wife too, in theory, atleast you think. Your husband might argue and say that you were perfect.

Always waking up early to pack him his lunch, making him his morning cup of coffee just the way he liked it

No sugar, no milk, just pure pure, hot black liquid in his cream coloured cup which it contrasted against

Helping him wear his suit, a white plain shirt accompanied with a grey or dark blue blazer and pants, the usual colour he sported

You'd stand infront of him, inbetween his legs as you combed his hair back, gelled and slick. You knew how exactly he did his hair, how he liked it done

Never forgetting to bade him goodbye as he left for work, kissing him on his cheek, still wearing your apron, sometimes the kiss would linger for a second or two before you'd pull away

He likes that too

And when he comes back home, tired after a long day at work, you don't ask him what he does, you don't know the answer to it either but your smart enough not to mention it, you simply ask him how was his day with a smile on your lips

He'd simply grunt in return taking out his shoes while you'll swiftly help him with his blazer and shirt, before taking them away for washing

You always prepared dinner on time, the food layed ready on the table warm and toasty, all his favourite dishes lined up.

God, he loved it that you knew him so well, it made him go crazy, he simply glances at the table and back at you

You make him go crazy, he is crazy

After dinner he'd make love to you,

but that wasn't love, no love doesn't feel like that, you think

Infact it was closer to hate, desire, craving. It was closer to obsession, it was the farthest thing to love

But what would you know about love?

Only a person who loves you would take care of you the way your husband did. Only a person who loves you would take someone's as broken as you and marry that person, only he would tell you how much he loves you while your squirming and struggling against his touch when your pinned down by him

Only a person who loves you would spare your life

If this was what love truly felt like then you were terrified of it, but it was all you had left now

when your husband is away at work your left all alone at your house, you feel uncomfortable, fidgeting against the soft sofa

The accuracy sends a shiver down your spine while your eyes traced the corners of the walls, the exact colour, exact descriptions

This truly was the house of your dreams, living in it also felt like a dream except you weren't sure if that was a good thing or not

You turn on the washing machine, sorting out the different colours of clothes when your eye spies on a pile in the corner

You notice them as your husband's

You pick it up, your hands against the fabric, before you can stop yourself you take a sniff of it

Expensive perfume, a little bit of sweat and suddenly your taken back by a disgusting smell, you gagg, bile raising in your mouth as you turn away from the jacket, dropping it on the ground

You look down at your hands and there's an unmistakable red painting them

Blood

Something goes quiet inside you, you could only hear the soft rumble of the washing machine as you stared at your hand

You bend down, turning over the jacket as you held your breath, there it was, a bloodstained corner and something inside of you told you that it wasnt your husband's blood

You think, why didn't i notice this before? Why didn't I say anything to him before?

But you did. You did notice it. You notice the bloodstains he brought home everyday after he comes back from work but every day you don't say anything and the next day when your washing his clothes you ask yourself why you didn't notice it, why you didn't question him

You gaslight yourself into feeling better about yourself, you are better than him aren't you? Your not like him, your a good person.

You are

You are a good person, so why were you forcing yourself to believe it

Little do you know, After you wash his clothes, scrubbing and scrubbing the bloodstain away with your own hands cause the machine doesn't do it justice

After you iron it, and fold it, keeping it neatly, your husband would throw it away, all with a gleam in his eyes

He doesn't wear clothes tainted by other people, but he finds it amusing, how you, his sweet wife would not say anything to him about it

How you would mumble to yourself, gaslighting yourself into ignoring everything, telling yourself whatever it is you mutter to yourself to make you feel better about yourself, your moral compass and your ethic judgement

He knows he has ruined it all, he has ruined you, but seeing you cling on such a belief that your still pure, fuck that turns him on so much

Every day he pushes you, he pushes the last bit of humanity out of you and it works. He sees the way you choose to ignore how messed up he is, he sees you justifying yourself for staying with him

It makes him so happy, you make him so happy

And so he gives you whatever you want, anything you so far glance at. He can afford it, his dirty money, the one stained in his victims blood can afford it atleast

He makes sure everything is to your liking, your house, your apartment, he knows every single thing about you, it makes goosebumps appear in his skin, he has so much power and information over you

He knows you think he's handsome, don't think he didn't see your face when you first saw him.

The way your eyes widened and your chest rose, the air inside the room stripping away in a mili second

He shot your friends right infront of you, I guess they were you friends atleast

Your eyes filled with tears while you tried to look away, his hands tightly gripping yours, pulling your closer to him, him and the gun in his other hand

He leaves you gasping, groaning, screaming, it makes him want to hear it even more

Your eyes search for any amount of pity or guilt in his dark eyes, but it's pitch black dark, the white surrounding his eyes contrasting against his iris

His hair, which was smoothly slicked back was now slightly messy and frayed, few of his strands sticking out, covering his forehead which was scrunched with excitement, completly enthralled while yours was filled with terror

He coos at you, poking the gun inside your mouth, telling you that the odds of you living are 1 to 6, changing the entire trajectory of the game

He tells you russian roulette is more fun when played this way

He pulls the trigger, you wince, shutting your eyes tightly, i want to live please, you think- no you beg

A shot comes out, you feel smoke in your mouth but your still alive, your heart beat still beating swiftly, your head throbbing, your tears cascading down your face but your still alive

"The chances of your survival was 1 to 6, you getting your head blown to bits was 5 to 6" he says, the gun lingers at the tip of your lips before it slowly exits your mouth and thats when you see it

The most scariest thing you've ever seen in your life, more scarier than your friends getting shot infront of your eyes, more scarier than the gun, more scarier than the dark look in his eyes when he shoved the gun in your mouth

The man infront of you smiles, his lips stretch and widen, there's a glint in his eyes that wasn't there before but that seems more dangerous to you, more horrifying than staring at his soulless black eyes

"You survived" he murmured, his voice beyond a whisper but you could still hear the excitement dripping down every syllable "good job"

He kisses you, you don't expect it to be so soft and tender, your hands are still behind your back, you thrash against his touch

"You beat all the odds" he murmured

Just like him

You beat all the odds, his precious sweet wife

Another reason why he likes you, your husband recollects while entering the house after a long day at work

And now, your welcoming the man who killed all your friends, who almost killed you with so much tenderness in your voice

Your broken

He likes the fact that it was because of him

He smiles when you help him remove his jacket, leading him into the dining room, he holds your hand, pressing his body against yours

"Sweetheart" he touches your lips and you freeze. You've seen that smile before

"let's play a game"

[itneverendshere]

in the alley, in the back, in the center of this room - r.c (+18)

pairing: kelce's sister x hockey!rafe warnings: smut

You hadn’t seen Rafe in a week. 

Seven whole days without him hovering over you, being annoying, or sneaking his hands under your shirt when no one was looking.

You sexted, of course, sent a few pictures. Okay, more than a few, but it wasn’t the same. You could tell he was getting frustrated, too, hitting you with the “wish I was there” and “gonna make you pay for that when I see you” texts.

You missed him. Ugh, you hated that you missed him. You weren’t supposed to—Rafe wasn’t your boyfriend, but you were spoiled, used to having him whenever you wanted.

You found out the hard way that he was back, sitting in the library, drowning in microeconomic equilibrium theory you didn’t understand, when someone suddenly gripped the back of your chair, leaning so close that you nearly jumped out of your skin.

“Missed me, princess?”

Your hand flew to your chest. 

“What the fuck?!” You whispered-yell, glaring up while he grinned.

He reached out to tug on a curl like he had the right to. Your first instinct was to slap his hand away, you hated when people touched your hair without permission, it made your skin crawl, made you want to ask who the hell raised you?

Rafe however...He always did it like it was just something he got to do. Your body let him. No flinching, side-eye, or glare—just the sharp inhale you tried to hide and the way your lashes fluttered before you could stop them.

Shit.

You liked when he did it.

His hair was still damp from a shower, curling at the ends. His eyes flicked over your face, and you wondered if he could tell you were staring. The last time you saw him, he was between your thighs, mouthing at you like he was getting paid to. That was his send-off, his “see you later” gift, and the way he looked at you then had been haunting you all fucking week. 

“Aw, did I scare you?” Rafe slid into the chair next to yours. “Whatcha doing?”

You gestured at your laptop, your notebook, the complete disaster that was your study space. “Dying.”

He dragged your notebook toward him, ignoring your protests as his eyes scanned the mess of numbers and half-baked notes. “You’re doing it wrong.”

You exhaled, frustrated. “No shit.”

He pulled his chair closer—so close your knees knocked together.

“Why didn’t you ask for help?”

You rolled your eyes, deadpaned. “Too busy staring at your dick pics, sorry.”

Rafe’s grin stretched wider, “Yeah? Got you that distracted?”

You clicked your tongue in annoyance, flipping a page in your notebook. You did spend the entire week in a foul mood, throwing an internal tantrum about not getting laid whenever you wanted, completely forgetting you even had a quiz coming up until the last second. You’d spent more time thinking about him than you’d ever admit, rereading his texts like a loser

That wasn’t like you. 

“Pay attention,” He jokingly scolded, tapping the page with his pen as he caught you ogling him like some desperate, touch-starved idiot.

Your brain wasn’t cooperating, but in your defense, you’d been thinking about that night before he left. He started writing. Fast, neat, too efficient for someone who spent most of his time being a brute on the ice. That was almost worse than the teasing. 

You knew Rafe was smart, but seeing it up close? Watching him put your mess of half-assed equations into something that made sense? It was so hard to listen when he was right there, warm, smelling so good. He explained things easily, it almost sounded like this shit wasn’t complete gibberish. 

That did things to you.

Your legs pressed together under the table, mortified at yourself. Because, wow, this was bad. You were so weak, this was a new low.

Blah, blah, supply and demand, blah, blah, equilibrium. You tilted your head, watching the way his lips moved, the crease in his brows when he was focused. You must’ve been staring for a good while, because he turned, catching you mid-fantasy, bottom lip stuck between your teeth. 

Rafe’s lips twitched, as he leaned in, pressing a peck to your lips.

You jerked back, scandalized. “We’re in public.”

He shrugged, utterly shameless. “No one saw.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Don’t care.” He leaned in again, brushing your cheek. “Can’t help it. It’s been a week.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, knowing no good ever came from his teasing. “Behave.”

“Make me.”

His knee bumped against yours again, and his fingers started tracing little circles on your thigh, skimming your skin where your skirt rided up.

You swatted at his hand without looking. 

“Pay attention,” you mocked, throwing his words back at him.

Rafe hummed, flipping the page in your notebook like he was being helpful. Then he reached over, lips brushing the shell of your ear.

“You start paying attention,” he murmured, voice low “Or you’re staying celibate until you’re done with the quiz.”

 “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” He leaned back, amused, after dropping the most devastating sentence you’ve ever heard. “You study, you pass, you get what y’want.”

Oh, that little— You refused to give him the satisfaction of a reaction, even if the memory of him—his hands gripping your hips, his voice all wrecked while you rode him into the mattress—was currently frying your brain.

He thought you were just gonna sit here and let him dangle sex over your head like some kind of academic incentive.

“That’s cute,” you forced a sweet smile. “You think you can tell me what to do.”

“Know I can.”

You rolled your eyes, tapping your pen against your notebook. “I’ll just find someone else to get the job done.”

“Who?” he asked, voice all amused. “Limp dick? The one I had to beat the fuck up on the ice ‘cause he was talkin’ shit about you?”

You should’ve known he’d bring that up again.

You refused to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. But Rafe was already grinning, he wasn’t dumb, you weren’t going to mess around with anyone else. He could tell that even when you tried to get under his skin, you weren’t serious.

“Right,” he nodded, playing along like you had options. “Yeah, no. You’re not fuckin’ him. Or anyone else.” 

You scoffed, “And who said I wanted you?”

He pretended to think it over, fingers rubbing his chin, “Man, I don’t know. You looked real desperate in that one video you sent—”

You immediately slapped a hand over his mouth, warmth already making you squirm in your seat, “I will kill you.”

Rafe chuckled against your palm, eyes glinting as he peeled your hand away with ease, gripping your wrist. “Y’know, the one where you were moaning my name?” His voice was just loud enough to make your stomach drop, “With your fingers—"

Your eyes widened in panic as you shot a glance around the library. 

“Rafe,” you hissed, smacking his arm.

“What? M’just saying, you looked so needy. All spread out, fingers deep—”

You slapped your hand over his mouth again, his voice muffled against your skin, absolutely loving how flustered you were.

That’s why this was fun—because you knew Rafe and he knew you, neither of you were fucking around with other people. That’s why you didn’t use condoms, why he finished inside every time without either of you even thinking twice about it.

“Shut up,” you attempted to keep your laughter at bay because fuck, he was annoying.

Rafe pushed your hand away again, “Bet you watched it back, huh? Wishing it was me instead of your fingers?”

You glared, smacking his chest.

“I leave for one week and you lose all self-control.”

You shoved at him, harder this time, but he just squeezed your side gently. “Don’t act like you didn’t ask for it.”

“Nah, nah, I’m just saying—" He dropped his voice an octave, mimicking a breathy little moan, “Rafe, please—”

“Oh my God.” You lunged at him this time, hand slapping over his mouth in pure desperation.

He was full-on shaking with laughter against you, his shoulders bouncing. His eyes crinkled at the corners, blue as ever, absolutely fucking delighted with himself. You could feel his lips still moving under your hand, he was trying to keep going just to piss you off more.

“You are such a child,” you gritted, pushing down harder like you could physically mute him.

You shot another panicked look around, losing it over the idea of someone overhearing this bullshit. But the library was still pretty empty—except for a couple of freshmen in the corner, who thankfully weren’t paying you any attention.

“You wish I was that desperate,” you shot back, flipping your notebook shut because there was absolutely no way you were studying now.

Rafe scoffed, leaning back in his chair, spreading his legs, “Open it.”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “What?”

“Your notebook. Open it.”

You crossed your arms. “Why?”

Rafe reached over and flipped it open himself, plucking your pen from the table, and spinning it between his fingers like he had all the time in the world.

“You’re gonna sit here, take notes like a good girl, and pass your quizz—” He leaned in, voice dropping to a drawl. “—then I’ll fuck you so good you’ll forget all about how much you hated studying.”

You swallowed, your thighs closing instinctively. Son of a bitch, he was really going to make you study. You snatched your pen from his hand with a glare, turning back to your notes.

His free hand landed on your knee, thumb rubbing circles.

"Good girl," he praised.

Fucker.

You huffed, shoving his hand away—not that it did much, since he just put it right back. 

“This is stupid.”

“And you’re real fuckin' cute when you’re mad at me.”

His eyes dropped to your lips for a second before he sat back, physically stopping himself from kissing you, tapping the page.

“Try it now,” he said, mocking.

You blinked at the page, trying to refocus, but fuck, your brain was not cooperating, all you could think about was how badly you wanted to get under this fucking table. You inhaled sharply, forcing yourself to look at the notes he so generously organized for you, but all the numbers and words blurred together.

“You’re not even trying.”

“I was trying before you showed up.”

Rafe chuckled. “No, you weren’t. You were pouting. Probably about me.”

“As if.”

He tilted his head, unconvinced. “Mmm. What were you thinking about, then? You looked really…” He licked his lips, eyes moving down your body before dragging back up to your face. “Focused.”

Your fingers twitched where they rested on the table, gripping your pen. You weren’t going to answer that when you had been thinking about him

You weren’t admitting shit.

 “Shut the fuck up.”

He laughed, absolutely delighted, reaching over and twisting your pen right out of your grip, tucking it behind his ear.

You stared at him, exasperated. “Are you serious?”

He shrugged, unbothered. “Maybe if you ask nicely, I’ll give it back.”

You pursed your lips, “Give me my pen.”

“Say please.”

You made a grab for it, but he was faster, pulling back just out of reach, the movement making his shirt lift, high enough for you to catch a sliver of tan skin, the cut of his abs—You forced yourself to look away before you did something embarrassing, like drool.

Rafe saw, his smirk turning downright filthy.

“Eyes up here, princess.” He tapped his own chin. 

You inhaled through your nose, willing yourself to stay calm. “Rafe.”

“Yeah?”

“Give me my fucking pen.”

“C’mon,” he drawled, spinning the pen between his fingers. “You can do better than that.”

You leaned in, glaring at him. “I’m going to stab you with it.”

“See? That’s not very nice.”

If he wanted to play games, you could play, too.

You tilted your head, softening your gaze, letting the tiniest smirk curl at your lips. “Rafe,” you murmured, reaching out and skimming your fingers over his wrist, featherlight. You watched his throat bob as he swallowed, his arrogant expression faltering.

You hardly touched him, leaning in close enough that your breath tickled his ear, letting your nails trail up his forearm, watching in satisfaction as goosebumps prickled in their wake.

This was too easy.

“Please, Rafe,” you murmured again, barely brushing your lips against his jaw this time, just the softest ghost of a touch—

And boom.

The pen hit the table with a clatter.

Your lips curled against his skin, gotcha. God, that was satisfying. You leaned back, slow, picking up the pen like nothing happened. 

“See?” You grinned, twirling it between your fingers. “That wasn’t so hard.”

“You know what else is hard?”

Your pen slipped, the tip dragging a line of ink across the page.

“You should fix that. Can’t have sloppy notes, princess.”

You rolled your eyes, his knee touched yours again, his fingers flexing over your thigh, fingertips teasing at the hem of your skirt.

“Rafe,” you hissed in warning.

“C’mon, no one’s looking.”

Your eyes darted around, but the library had emptied. The couple of freshmen in the corner were suddenly gone. It was late, and the space had gone quiet, save for sound of the AC and the occasional rustle of paper.

His hand slid higher, his breath warm against your jaw. “Been thinkin' about you all week.”

“Not here,” you gulped, even as your thighs parted automatically.

Rafe hummed in approval, his lips grazing your temple. Then, he was grabbing your wrist, yanking you up so fast you barely had time to shove your laptop closed, tripping over your own feet.

“Rafe—!”

He didn’t listen, steering you between the bookshelves with ease, deeper into the back corner of the library. It was dimmer here, the overhead lights flickering slightly.

“Relax,” he murmured, spinning you until your back hit the shelves. His hands found your body, holding on to your curves. “Wouldn’t let anyone see you like this.”

You protested, but it melted into a sigh when he nipped at your lips, trailing soft kisses down your neck. “You’re the worst tutor ever.”

His mouth was on yours then, stopping the scolding, his hands skimming your thighs, teasing the edge of your underwear. His fingers ghosted over your core, feeling the damp fabric.

“Missed this,” he confessed against your skin.

You sucked in a sharp breath when he hooked a finger under the thin strip of lace, dragging it to the side, baring you to him, sliding against you—and oh, fuck.

Your grip tightened on his shirt, hips jerking involuntarily into his touch. His breath came out in a sharp exhale, his forehead dropping to yours. 

“Goddamn,” he muttered, voice all wrecked. “You missed me too, huh?”

You wanted to tell him to shut the fuck up, but your brain, your entire body was betraying you as his fingers molded themselves to you, spreading you open, sliding through your slick with an arrogance that made you want to smack him. Or, maybe, fuck him right here.

Your head thunked back against the bookshelf. “Rafe,” you gritted out.

“What?” He tilted his head, “Somethin’ you wanna ask me?”

You glared at him. “If you don’t fucking move—”

“Been thinking about me?”

You bit your lip, refusing to answer, but then he flattened the tip of his finger inside, teasing, “Haven’t exactly had a choice,” you admitted, voice breathy.

 “Yeah? Kept you up, didn’t I?”

You hated how well he knew you.

He laughed under his breath, but listened, finally sliding one finger in, all the way to the knuckle, slow enough to make you feel every inch of it.

His forehead fell against yours as gently as possible, feeling you squeeze around his finger was testing his patience. “Been dreamin’ about this all fuckin’ week.”

He started moving, curling his finger inside you, hitting that spot that made your thighs tremble. His thumb dragged over your clit, featherlight at firsst, only enough to make your hips jerk, slipping in a second, the stretch making your breath stutter, your nails sinking into his shoulder.

You could hear how wet you were, the sound of it filling the tiny corner of the library. It should’ve embarrassed you, but all it did was make Rafe groan under his breath.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, his hand tightening on your hip. “Y’hear that, baby? How fuckin’ wet you are for me?”

Your thighs squeezed around his hand, your breath turning uneven.

“You always get this messy,” His tone was smug, pupils blown wide, like he was drunk on you. “Couldn’t even focus all week, could you?”

You swallowed, knowing you couldn’t lie and in return, he pressed closer, thumb rubbing tight circles over your clit. 

“Say it.”

Your head dropped back against the shelf, a whimper slipping out before you could stop it.

"Uh-uh," he tsked, dragging his fingers up, agonizingly so, “C’mon.”

You exhaled sharply, “T-thought about you every night.”

Rafe groaned, fingers fucking into you faster, rougher. “That’s it,” he murmured, forehead pressing against yours. “That’s what I wanted to hear.”

You bit down on your bottom lip, barely stifling your cry, thighs trembling against his hand. You were looking up at him with those big, pleading eyes, already knowing you had him right where you wanted him.

He let out a quiet, almost amused exhale, shaking his head. “Fingers or cock?”

Your breath hitched. “What?”

“You heard me,” he murmured, his lips ghosting over your ear now. He wasn’t teasing—wasn’t gonna make you beg.

Your answer came quick, needy. “Cock.”

His fingers continued to work you open first, thorough, making sure you were ready—though you were already soaked, whining his name. And fuck, you need to feel him, to sink into him.

He pulled out, only to replace them with his cock, burying himself deep in one smooth thrust, groaning at the way you clenched around him. His forehead dropped to yours, breath ragged, hands gripping your thighs, legs wrapped around his waist.

You swore he felt even more solid than before—broader, stronger. A week away at training camp, skating, lifting, and it showed. It wasn’t fair that he could come back after a week and feel like this, move like this, take up so much space and attention like he always did.

“Told you I was gonna make you wait,” his voice was strained. “Guess I lied.” Rafe’s fingers dug into your thighs, pushing you harder against the bookshelf, words spilling out between thrusts. “Goddamn—Like I never even left."

You felt every inch of him stretching you out, as always, never fully getting used to how good it felt. The bookshelf behind you rattled with every movement, joining your breathy gasps, the wet slap of skin on skin.

He bit down gently on your neck, soothing the sting with his tongue, “You missed me,” he sounded delirious, dragging his lips down your throat, letting his teeth graze your skin before sucking. “Bet you were fuckin’ yourself stupid thinking about this, weren’t you?”

The thought of him had kept you up all night, fingers buried deep, wishing it was him instead. You couldn’t even deny it, your hips jerking to meet each thrust, desperate to get him even deeper.

Rafe chuckled darkly at your silence, dropping his forehead against yours, breath ragged, “Came thinking about me fillin’ you up, huh?” His hands tightened on your thighs, adjusting his grip, the angle making you gasp. “Fuck—tell me.”

Your hands fisted in his hair, your walls clenching around him, making his rhythm stutter. You swallowed, throat dry from all the garbles you kept letting out. “Wanted you—fuck, Rafe—I wanted you so bad.”

 “Yeah? Think about me stretching this pussy out?”

A ragged moan slipped from your lips, and he caught it, swallowing it down with an open-mouthed kiss. His knees buckled when your walls fluttered around him, fingers digging into your thighs as he tilted your chin up, keeping your lips fused to his, tongue sweeping against yours, licking into your mouth like he couldn’t stand not tasting you.

“You feel so good,” he rasped, kissing you through every thrust, his lips dragging over yours between moans, biting your bottom lip before soothing it with his tongue. “So fuckin’ good, baby—”

Every time you moaned, he was there, stealing it with his lips, his tongue sweeping into your mouth, kissing you through it. Rafe hissed when you bit his lip, dragging him impossibly closer, gasping when he hit that spot. His forehead pressed to yours, mouth brushing yours.

“Keep kissing me,” you panted.

His answering growl vibrated against your lips before he obeyed—his mouth slanting over yours again, licking, sucking, drowning in you as he fucked you right there between the bookshelves.

Your head thunked back against the bookshelf, and Rafe chased after you, hand bracing on one side of your head as he devoured you. It made your thighs shake where they were wrapped around his waist, your heels digging into his back.

“Look at you,” he murmured, lips brushing against yours, diving deeper just to watch you. Your breath hitched, eyes fluttering, but he didn’t let you look away.

“Fucking ruined for me,” he breathed, lips still grazing yours with every panting breath.

Your hands fisted in his shirt, clinging to him as he pounded into you, desperate now.

“C’mon,” he rasped, his voice all beautifully wrecked against your cheek, his thumb slipping between you to take care of your clit, his other hand gripping your jaw, keeping your lips right there—teeth scraping over your bottom lip, his tongue following right after, kissing you through it, swallowing your scream as your body went taut, your orgasm hitting you so hard your vision went white for more than ten seconds.

Your fingers tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck, holding him close as his thrusts turned sloppier. Rafe groaned, light-headed at this point, stuttering as you clenched so good around him, dragging him with you. He swallowed your gasps, moaning into your mouth as he buried himself deep, coming inside, filling you up just like always.

Your hands roamed, slipping under his shirt, feeling the hard planes of his stomach, his muscles twitching under your touch. You traced up his ribs, nails raking down his back, and Rafe groaned against your lips, his cock twitching inside you.

You pulled back, just enough to whisper against his mouth. “You’re still hard.”

Rafe huffed a laugh, “Yeah. Wonder why.” His fingers flexed on your hips before sliding up your back, curling around the back of your neck.

You whimpered, pressing closer, rolling your hips instinctively, “’M sensitive.”

“Payback.”

You smacked his shoulder weakly, still trying to catch your breath. “Shut up.”

He grinned, fixing your skirt, not before getting a good handfull of your ass, “Mmm, love when y'get all bratty after I fuck the attitude outta you.”

Your legs were wobbly as you adjusted your skirt and tried to make yourself look somewhat presentable, while he tucked himself back into his jeans, his hands moving with an infuriating ease.

“Asshole,” you muttered as you straightened your top, smoothing your hands over your thighs. “You should probably go first. Before someone sees us.”

Rafe tilted his head, studying you. “You care that much?”

You frowned, glancing around the library. You weren’t embarrassed, but there was something about the way he asked the question that made you hesitate.

This was fine, just a thing, a very casual thing. No big deal.

You hated the way his words affected you though. “Rafe—”

“Relax, princess.” He smirked, but there was something in his tone that made you wonder if he cared as much. 

He stepped closer again, his fingers moving along your jaw before he pressed a slow, lingering kiss to your lips—and when he pulled away, his lips brushed against your temple, fleeting.

Alright, stay cool. No need to overthink it.

“I’ll email you my notes from last year,” he murmured, his breath fanning over your skin. “Should help with your quiz. I’ll see you later.”

And with that, he turned and walked off, leaving you standing there.

You exhaled, leaning against the bookshelf, knowing you were a little mean for no reason, you were protecting yourself. You were supposed to be able to separate this shit. It was just sex.

Why couldn’t you keep it like that? What the hell happened to the girl who told herself she wasn’t gonna get emotionally attached? 

Oh! That’s right, she was emotionally attached before this shit even started. You were smarter than this, knew how to act detached.

Why did have to be him? You sat down, staring blankly at your laptop, but your mind was a fucking mess.

Because no matter how hard you tried to ignore it, no matter how much you told yourself that it was just sex—You had a quiz to study for. That was the whole reason you were here in the first place, right? Not to get fucked stupid against a bookshelf by Rafe Cameron.

A frustrated groan slipped past your lips, and you sank further into your chair, rubbing a hand over your face. This was so fucking bad.

You liked him.

You’d always liked him, that was the problem. Maybe he didn’t know how much—maybe he didn’t realize that he already had you wrapped around his finger.

[misctf]

Experiential Learning

“Dude, I don’t get it.”

“What’s not to get?” Mike grinned.

The two men paused their jog, taking a few deep breaths and basking in the warmth of the summer air. Jason wiped some sweat from his forehead and looked towards his friend.

“I guess I can understand it, well in theory.” Jason continues, running a hand through his blond hair, “But you’re telling me you’ll fuck around for hours and still not blow? Like, what’s the point?”

“That is the point, bro.” Mike stretches his muscular arms, “When you're right on the edge, so close to release... it's like nothing else. Fuck... and when you do finally let go.” His grin widens, “Fucking mind-blowing, best orgasm you’ll ever have.”

“Yeah but dude, isn't it just torture? Having to hold back all that time?” Jason shakes his head, “I'd rather just bust a nut and be done with it. Fuck, how do you get anything done? I feel like I’d be so fucking horny all day.”

Mike chuckles and slaps Jason on the back, “Oh man, it’s about the journey, not the destination. And that journey could last for hours, even days if you get as good as me.”

Jason raises an eyebrow skeptically. “Hours? Days? Dude, I don't know if my balls could take that much punishment. Sounds like a case of self-inflicted blue balls.”

“Ah you’re boring, man.” Mike shrugs, “But if you ever want a lesson.” He winks playfully.

“Gross dude.” Jason chuckles, “You do you, man. Just glad I’m not your cock.”

“You wish you were.” Mike laughs, “C’mon, lets finish this run.”

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

It’s the next morning when Jason is awakened by the sound of an unfamiliar alarm.

“Ugh fuck.” He thinks. His body feels stiff- more so than what he would’ve expected from the intensity of his workout yesterday, “I didn’t go that hard.” He thinks, his thoughts shifting to the blaring alarm, “Okay, okay... I can’t see anything...” It was so dark, and he was covered in warm fabric, “Those black out curtains are good...” He tries to reach out towards the sound of the alarm, “My arms... I can’t move my arms...” It’s a strange sensation, as if he doesn’t have arms to move.

As the realization slowly dawns on Jason, panic begins to set in. He tries to sit up, to move his legs, but feels only a strange, throbbing heat emanating from below. Each movement he makes just causes his body to twitch. He tries again and again to move, but nothing responds to his mental commands. Even his desperate attempts to call out for help are useless. No words are able to leave his mouth, which feels forced open in an circular shape. The only thing Jason can feel is his form rubbing against something soft with each weak twitch of his stiff body.

“Ugh fuck...” Jason perks up at the sound of Mike voices, “God damnit... this fuckin’ alarm.”

The alarm is silenced and Mike throws the sheets off of him. The light shines through the room, illuminating it and giving Jason a better view. Jason can barely process his new perspective. He finds himself looking directly up at Mike's toned abdominal muscles, the individual abs clearly defined. His gaze traces up further, taking in the expansive, sculpted pectoral muscles above. To either side of Jason, towering and filling his entire field of vision, are Mike's colossal thighs. He can feel the warmth radiating from them.

“C’mon dude! Don’t you see me?” Jason thinks, an increasing sense of panic welling up from inside him.

Mike yawns and looks down, a slow grin forming across his face. Jason can feel Mike’s eyes on him and he wants to ask why the hell his buddy is smiling at him. More importantly, he wanted to ask why the fuck he was apparently in his bed, wedged between his bro’s thighs. But he couldn’t- for whatever reason he could form the words.

“Well hello there, handsome.” Mike chuckles to himself, “Looks like someone's ready to start the day.” Mike reaches down at wraps his meaty hand around his throbbing cock.

A jolt of intense pleasure shoots through Jason's entire being as he feels Mike's strong hand wrap around his body. The sensation is overwhelming - every nerve ending seems to come alive at once. He can feel the texture of Mike's skin, the slight calluses on his palm, the firm yet gentle grip. As Mike begins to stroke, slowly at first then picking up speed, waves of ecstasy pulse through Jason's new body. He twitches and throbs in Mike's grasp, growing even harder.

“Oh god oh fuck what the hell is happening?! I.... ohhhh.... please stop..... I'm not a dick.... I'm not a damn cock! I’m a man!”

Jason's mind reels as the sensations intensify. Mike's grip tightens, stroking faster now. Jason's thoughts grow increasingly slurred and fragmented.

“Nnngh f-fuck... s'too much...” Jason's brain fogs over with each pump of Mike's fist. The pleasure is all-consuming, wiping away coherent thought, “Can't... can't think straight...”As Mike's strokes become more urgent, Jason's resolve crumbles. The boundaries of his identity blur and fade, “I'm... I'm not... hnnngh! 

Jason's protests dissolve. In his hazy, lust-addled state, the idea of being separate from Mike's cock starts to seem absurd. After all, everything that made him Jason was gone. His firm pecs, muscular arms, toned legs- gone, his body just a veiny, thick shaft. His handsome features, killer smile- gone, just a pink cock head. Jason's mind goes completely blank as the pleasure peaks. All rational thought vanishes, replaced only by pure, primal need.

“Yes... I am a cock... Mike's cock...” Jason thinks, his remaining shreds of identity merging fully with his new role, “This is all I am, all I've ever been...” His purpose becomes clear, “Need... to... cum...”

But the hand stops. And as it does, Mike throws back his head and moans, basking in the pleasure and pain of denied release. All the while, Jason is suddenly jolted back to reality, his thoughts becoming clear, as a sense of clarity washes over him.

“Fuck...” He thinks as he regains focus, “I nearly...”

A sense of dread washes over him. He was so close. So close to losing himself. If Mike hadn’t stopped... if he kept going...

“...and when you do finally let go... Fucking mind-blowing...”

Mike’s words repeat in Jason’s consciousness. And Jason realizes that there is certainly a truth to his bro’s statement. If... when Mike finally released... Jason tries to push the thought out of his head. He had time- maybe he could find a way to communicate or reverse this. But before he can think more on it, Jason feels his perspective change again as Mike gets out of bed.

“Gotta hit the gym first.” Mike mumbles, grinning down at his slowly softening dick, “It’s been a few days, hasn’t it? Workout first, then...”

And Jason begins to realize he might not have as much time left as he thought. Mike grabs a pair of compression shorts and plunges Jason back into darkness, the feeling of the soft fabric teasing him even more. His thoughts growing foggy once again as each of Mike’s movements send a wave of pleasure and pain down the length of his sensitive, semi-hard body. The aching need nearly unbearable. Despite his earlier determination to escape this predicament, a small part of Jason finds himself craving the release he was denied. To fully experience Mike's take on edging.

"Maybe..." he muses dreamily, "maybe letting go won't be so bad....might be nice to finally...cum..."

[wcnderlnds]

to the moon | choi seung-hyun (t.o.p)

・❥・ summary: on a night out with his dearmoon crew, seunghyun bumps into you and it changes everything whether he realises it or not. ・❥・word count: 1.5k ・❥・warnings: none! ・❥・ authors note: hello!! i love nerdy space boy seunghyun so i'm doing a whole series on it <3

Choi Seunghyun was obsessed with space. He loved everything about it. Whether it was the stars, planets or the many theories on aliens, he could talk for hours about his love for what lies beyond. Unfortunately, he didn't really meet many people who shared his love for the stars and what they held. That was why when he was accepted for the Dear Moon project, he was over the moon.

To be surrounded by like-minded people, to thrive off their energy - it was everything he could have asked for. The last few years particularly had been tough for him. This was what he needed to help get his mind on track. It was scary moving to a country on the other side of the world away from his family and friends but he knew It would be good for his mind. The last place he wanted to be was Korea right now. A new environment with new people would be good for his healing process. 

Texas was very different from what he was used to. Getting used to the new time difference was the hardest part. His body was so used to being on Korean time that it took him a good few weeks to come around to his new time zone. Through the weeks of adjustment to his new life, he'd been going through tests for the space project - passing all of them. He had also grown close with the other people who were also selected to the part. Making friends used to be easy for him but after everything that had happened, he was a little guarded. Someone had betrayed his trust leading his life down a path he hadn't foreseen. Now, he had to pick up the pieces of himself. It wasn't easy but he was determined to lead a happy life. He just had to be careful about the people he let in.

Nights out weren’t usually his thing - opting to stay home, hiding from the world these days. But, it was one of his fellow crew member’s birthdays and he wanted to celebrate with them. That was how he found himself in a small bar, watching his new friends play pool. He’d spent the night chatting with them, having a few drinks. To his surprise, he found himself with a smile on his face all night. It wasn’t often that a genuine smile made its way onto his face. Since he was in a good mood, he decided that he wanted to treat everyone to drinks. There was a small part of him that felt like he owed it to them for all they were doing for him whether they knew it or not. Heading over to the bar, his snapback firmly on his head, he leaned on the surface, waiting to be served. Seunghyun never used to have patience but these days he found himself a little more willing to wait for things. What he didn’t expect, though, was for you to trip and accidentally fall onto him. It was on instinct that his hands reached out to catch you, resting tentatively on your waist to hold you still. Once you were firmly stood upright, he removed his hands. Seunghyun wasn’t really one for skinship with people he didn’t know but he couldn’t just let you fall now, could he?

“Thank you,” you breathed, relieved that you hadn’t injured yourself or the incredibly handsome man stood in front of you. As your eyes (not so subtly) gave him a once over, you noticed that you’d spilled your drink all over his jacket. “Oh, I’m so sorry. Let me fix that.”

You grabbed some napkins off the counter, dabbing at the wet patch on his coat but to no avail. Seunghyun couldn’t help but laugh slightly at the panicked look on your face. “It’s fine. It’ll wash off. Don’t go having a panic attack over it now.”

At his accent, your ears perked up, head rising to meet his dark brown eyes. Wow, he really was so beautiful. “You’re not from around here.”

“Nope,” he shook his head. “I’m from Korea but I’m living here temporarily for a few months.”

“Cute accent,” you quipped, tossing the now wet napkins onto the bar. “What’re you doing all the way in Texas then? Must be important if it’s brought you all the way across to the other side of the world.”

Now, usually you wouldn’t talk with some random guy you’d met in a bar – there had been far too many bad experiences but this man seemed different from the rest. He was a little shy; you’d noticed his cheeks tinting red and his eyes gazing down at the ground at your compliment. His eyes seemed kind, maybe that was because not once had he checked you out. That gained major points for him. Most guys in bars ended up being sleazeballs but you had a good feeling about this one.

“I’m going to space,” he smiled shyly. It sounded ridiculous, he knew that but how else was he supposed to put it?

“What?” You burst out laughing. “Do you use that line on all the girls you meet or am I just special?”

“No, really! It’s called Dear Moon. They’re sending a bunch of us to the moon.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“Seriously!” He said, determined to convince you as he leaned forward. As he did, you noticed the NASA snapback he had on. Okay, maybe he was telling the truth and maybe he was going to space but… it was highly unlikely, right? “Me and a bunch of other people got selected to go on a trip to the moon in one of the SpaceX rockets.”

“Okay, okay,” you held your hands up in defense, the corners of your lips turning up into a smile. It was adorable how determined he seemed. “If you’re really going to space then tell me a space fact that a simpleton like me wouldn’t know then maybe I’ll believe you.”

Seunghyun sat in thought for a moment, his perfect eyebrows scrunched. He looked adorable, the pout on his face really making you giggle to yourself. Suddenly, he perked up. His eyes were bright as he spoke excitedly. “Neptune has only completed one orbit around the Sun since its discovery.”

“Okay, well, I’ll have to take your word on it because I know nothing about space,” you laughed, eyeing the bartender as he finally made his way over. “Guess I should get myself another drink since I spilled it all over you. I’m still so sorry about that, by the way.”

“No, let me,” he waved the bartender over, giving his own drink orders then asking for yours. “I’m Seunghyun, by the way.”

“Nice to meet you, Seunghyun,” you held your hand out for him to shake which seemed silly considering his hands had been on your waist about five minutes ago. He happily shook your hand, his large hand warm in yours. The sparks flying through you the second your skin touched his was something you’d never experienced before. It was almost like you didn’t want to pull away, your eyes drawn to the small smile on his face. It was a moment that you’d never forget. Unfortunately, the bartender decided to ruin it, clearing his throat causing you both to pull your hands back, awkwardly grabbing for your drinks.

“It was nice to meet you, Seunghyun. Here,” you grabbed a pen, writing your number on a napkin, sliding it over to him. “Maybe text me some more cool space facts sometime.”

With a bright smile, you headed off back to your friends. Seunghyun couldn’t help but watch as you walked away. It had been a very, very long time since he’d been so drawn to someone. It had been easy to talk to you, he hadn’t felt the need to hide or make an excuse to walk away. He actually liked the small interaction you’d had; already replaying it in his mind. The way you smiled, the way you kept eye contact with him when you spoke to him. It made tingles run up his spine the way your hand had felt in his. But, no. He couldn’t let himself think like that. The last thing he needed right now was to catch feelings for anyone. Friendship, maybe. There was no harm in that. As he clutched the napkin in his hand, he gave one last look in your direction, seeing you laughing with your friends. He tucked the napkin in his pocket – maybe he would text you at some point.

When you got home that evening, kicking your shoes off, you felt your phone buzz in your pocket. Pulling it out, you unlocked it seeing a text from an unknown number but as you read the text you instantly knew who it was.

If you look out of your window right now you’ll be able to see one of the coolest star constellations. Ursa Major (or big dipper for you, space newbie). Looks like a bowl with a handle :) 

Opening the doors to your small balcony, you looked up to the sky, your eyes searching for the constellation that Seunghyun had mentioned.  It didn’t take long to see what he’d described, a smile creeping onto your face. Bracing your arms on the railing, you typed his name into your phone putting the moon emoji next to his name.

Yeah, maybe this space boy was going to be a danger to your heart.

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