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[reiderwriter]

Isn't She Pretty, Daddy?

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Teacher f!Reader

Summary: You're a little bit worried about one of your brightest students recently, so you call her Dad to come in for a meeting. Her absolutely adorable - and single - Dad.

Warnings: the birds and the bees as explained by a kindergardener. Some angst about being a single parent.

A/N: Here's another entry for @imagining-in-the-margins Kid Fic Challenge! Dad Spencer has my heart, and I've been in a really fluff forward mood this weekend, evidently! I think I have one more Kid Fic left to go before the end of the challenge, but we'll see what the will of the fanfiction gods is...

Masterlist

If you were to be asked what the hardest part of being a teacher was, you would, without question or even a second to think, have an answer. Parents. The worst part of teaching is talking to parents. 

Little kids were easy to talk to. They asked questions if they didn't understand things clearly, and they didn't typically say things they didn't mean. Adults were the opposite, and it just so happened that all of your kids' parents were adults. 

Including your most recent problem  child. 

You were used to the kids in your class having some behavior issues - for one, they were kids, it was to be expected that their little bodies couldn't quite handle all of the emotions they were feeling at once. But you were doubly struck by your school area being close to Quantico, meaning half the kids in your care had families with law enforcement backgrounds. 

Absent parents plus growing bodies plus normal kid stress equalled attachment issues, and your problem child Harper Reid was one of your more worrying cases. 

You really hoped everything was okay in the Reid household, so you'd called the little girls parents. She was lovely - honest to god - one of the sweetest little kids you'd ever met. 

Every day she came to school with some older kids and their mom, carpooling on the way in, so you had yet to meet her parents, but you thought that anyone who could produce something that sweet and cute and brilliant couldn't possibly be a bad person. 

You didn't know what to expect, so when her little pigtails peaked around the corner and she came running in, you were momentarily filled with anxiety. 

“MOMMY!” The little girl yelled, launching herself into your arms as soon as she spotted you behind your desk. 

“Hi, Harper! Hi, you must be, Mr. Reid-”

“Doctor, actually, um, but that doesn't really matter. I'm so sorry about this, Harper doesn't usually tackle people.” 

The 3ft tall ball of energy had managed to crawl into your lap and wrap her arms around your neck, so you had to pick her up when you stood to greet her dad. 

“Will your wife be joining us for the meeting today?” You asked, already used to Harper's hugs and general closeness. 

“Oh, no. No, she's not coming. She, uh, doesn't exist. Single father.” 

“Oh my god, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to assume, it's just not on my files-” 

“It's okay, it's a …bit complicated.” 

You took your seat at the desk and gestured to the man to do the same. Finally, looking at him for the first time now that some of your anxiety had died down, you couldn't help but think that Doctor Reid was incredibly attractive. It wasn't one part of his face that stuck out to you as being particularly pretty, just the entire ensemble of it together that took your breath away. Either that of Harper was gripping you so tight she was restricting your ability to breathe, and considering a five year old is not a boa constrictor, this was all dad's fault. 

“So, you said on the phone Harper's been having some problems at school?” 

You snapped your attention back to the issue at hand, searching for the relevant files and pictures you wanted to show the man. Harper turned herself around in your lap and looped her arms around your arm, pulling it in close to use as a pillow. 

“Isn't Miss Y/N so pretty, Daddy?” You froze and flushed in an instant, suddenly so aware of the man's eyes on you. You weren't sure if you were thankful or even more embarrassed that Harper's dad seemed to be even more flushed than you. 

“Daddy? Isn't she pretty?” Harper insisted, and you realized that you both weren't going to get out of this without him answering. 

“Yes, angel. Miss Y/N is very pretty.” The little girl smiled in triumph and nuzzled into your arm even more, happily curled up into your lap like a cat. 

“Hey, Harper. We got a new puzzle delivered yesterday. It's got My Melody and Cinnamaroll on it. They're your favorites, right?” 

The little girl nodded in glee, eyes shining as she hung on your every word. 

“How about you go over to the play area and get it started, and then me and your daddy will come over and help you finish it?” 

In a flash, she'd hopped up out of your lap and wriggled away, shouting a quick “You promised, right?” behind her as she went. 

“I'm so sorry about that, I don't know what's gotten into her, she's usually very shy and-”

“Doctor Reid, it's fine. That's just why I called you in today. Teachers and parents are a team, right, we work together to make sure the kids grow up well, you don't need to apologize to me for that.” 

The man seemed to take a deep breath and nod, to regain his wits about him for a second. 

“Is she… this attached in her regular classes?” 

“Well honestly, she was a bit like that at the beginning of the semester, but she grew out of it after a while. In the last week or so, she fell back into it, and now she's calling me ‘Mommy,’ too. I was wondering if anything happened recently at home that could've led her in this direction, or…”

The man looked a little bashful, but there was a twinge of sadness in his expression that you recognised all too well. 

“Harper, uh, doesn't have a Mom. I adopted her, and it's a long story, but... She's been asking me to get her one recently, because she doesn't really understand all that well? I'm sorry, I didn't know she'd do something like this. I should've done a better job at home-” 

“Doctor Reid, raising a child is hard. It's so hard that humans usually do it in communities, or at least in couples. You're doing it alone, and Harper is already one of the smartest and most empathetic little girls I know. You're doing your job as Dad just fine.” 

The man smiled at you and looked down, quickly wiping away a tear as you gave him a moment of privacy. 

“So. If nothing at home set Harper off, we should probably go and ask her why she's calling me mommy, right?” 

You stood, and he stood with you, leaving his satchel next to his chair and unbuttoning his jacket. 

“Great. Sure, let's go see.”

Walking to the back of the room, you both smiled quietly, looking at the small girl. The 100 piece puzzle you'd guided her to was neatly arranged on the desk, pieces split into edges and centre pieces as she slowly looked at each one with a quietly focused face. Each time she found the piece she was looking for, her smile was bright as she connected it to the small part she was working on. 

“Mommy! Daddy! I can't find the melody's face, can you help me?” 

“Sure, Harper, we'll help you.” You moved to sit beside her at the tiny desks, giggling when the older Reid on Harper's other side struggled to fit himself in the toddler sized chairs. 

Harper assigned you roles, and you all started quietly doing your jobs, waiting for Harper to focus again so you could ask her questions without agitating her. 

“Harper, can you tell your Daddy why you call me Mommy?” 

“Sure! You're Mommy because I want you to marry with Daddy.” 

If you weren't already still flushed from her earlier comments, you certainly were lightheaded with embarrassment now. 

“Harper, that's not how it works-” 

“Yes, it is, Daddy! Henry said so. He said his mommy and daddy were sad one day, but then they were together again and they had a big party called a wedding and now they're happy, and that's why we have Michael.” You didn't quite follow from all the names and the story events, but it was evident that Reid did, so you waited quietly for his explanation. 

“My friend. Her son was at her wedding a few years back. They have another son who is a couple years older than Harper, they come to school together?” 

Your mouth made a small ‘o’ as you slowly filled in the blanks. 

“Harper, you want daddy to have a wedding so he isn't sad anymore?” 

The little girl gave a big nod and a smile, like she was so happy that she was finally being understood. 

“Miss Y/N should marry daddy because he thinks she's pretty. Henry said that was important for a wedding, your mommy has to look beautiful.” You made eye contact with Doctor Reid awkwardly as she spoke, both of you looking away for fear of seeing the embarrassment on each others faces. 

“And Miss Y/N wants a baby. So I will be Miss Y/N's baby, so everyone can be happy!” Harper's kid logic was a little hard to find fault with, but you still had to push back a little. 

“Harper, why do you think I want a baby?” 

“Angie asked you, and you said," the girl pouted, almost frustrated woth habing to answer all these silly questions.

"She asked you why you don't have a baby, and you said that you can only have a baby if you're married and that you wanted to have a baby when you were married. So marry my dad, and I'll be your baby!” 

Harper's smile was so happy and content that you really didn't want to spoil her dream just yet. You continued putting the puzzle together for a few minutes in silence, the full picture nearly being complete now. Harper seemed to fidget a little in her seat next to you, pushing closer and closer to you before tugging on your sleeve. 

You leaned down and she whispered in your ear - though you didn't doubt that her dad heard every word. 

“If you really want, I'm sure we can get another baby like Henry got Michael. I'll ask my dad, but I think it's allowed.” 

The poor man on the other side of the desk had to cover his face with his hands to stop the blush from showing, devolving to just straight up resting his head on the desk when his daughter kept going. 

“A boy is okay, but my dad doesn't really know about boy stuff. Uncle Derek says that my daddy is just a pretty boy with a book brain. We should get another girl, so daddy can be not worry.” 

The more you listened to Harper's adorable family plan, the more you just wanted to squeeze her tight and say yes and give her everything she wanted. 

“Miss Y/N, once again, I'm so sorry for everything, I'll talk with Harper at home about this.” 

“It's okay, I actually find it all very sweet,” you laughed a little and smiled back at him. 

“No, I'm sure your boyfriend would be so uncomfortable if he knew that she was trying to marry you off-” 

“Doctor Reid, are you trying to ask me if I'm single?” 

The small grin that quirked his lips up was nothing if not unfair. He really was a very pretty boy. 

“It was that obvious?” 

“Yep.” You made sure the ‘p’ popped a lot as you both shared a small laugh. Harper looked up between you and smiled, too. 

“So, can you get married now? Henry said you can do it really quickly, like in Grandpa Rossi's garden, and then you can go and do the secret part at home while Auntie Penny looks after me.” 

“Secret part?” 

“To make the other baby, silly!” 

[lovesickchoi]

📁 FILE 04: KANG TAEHYUN

⋆·˚ ༘ * He fixes, he folds, and he fucks like he’s determined to show you just how much he cares. You want nothing more than to return the favor, be the one who takes care of him for once. But Taehyun can't imagine not being of service to you.

✦ Love Language: Acts of Service

pairing: taehyun x reader ✮⋆˙✐ 3.3k

warnings: f!reader, smut, domestic tension, switch but mostly dom!taehyun, kitchen sex, service kink, oral f!receiving, no protection

🗂️ click here to access all txt member’s files

˚₊ · »-♡→ main masterlist

Taehyun never said I love you like a normal person.

He said it through tasks, timing, and attention. Always quietly folding the world around you so you never had to ask for anything. And you’d let him.

Truthfully, you couldn’t remember the last time you’d lifted a finger in his presence. You were independent when you met him—fiercely so. The kind of person who didn’t trust anyone to do things as well as you could, let alone take care of you. But Taehyun had a way of gently dismantling those walls, brick by quiet brick, until your hands were empty and your burdens shared.

There were meals cooked after long days where you both came home tired and frayed, only he wouldn’t let you touch the stove. Instead, he’d kiss your forehead and force you to sit pretty on the counter so he had a nice view while he worked. And when you were done eating? You wouldn’t dare attempt to help clean up. Not unless you wanted your hands swatted away and Taehyun sprinting upstairs to run you a bath, insisting you “go soak and relax, baby, I’ll join you soon.”

You’d never forget coming home from that terrible day, still raw from an argument with your best friend, and finding the apartment spotless, your clothes folded neatly on the bed, and a bottle of wine breathing on the counter beside your favorite takeout. No questions asked.

You couldn’t even recall the last time you carried your own purse. Traveling? He always found a way to juggle both suitcases without complaint, leaving your hands completely free.

And it wasn’t just the grand gestures. It was in the subtleties. The way his eyes always flicked toward you, searching for anything you might need. How he’d bring you water without being asked. Fix a squeaky cabinet at one in the morning because it annoyed you once. Rearranged his already busy schedule for yours, because stress on your shoulders was unbearable to him.

Not to mention in bed. God, the pillow princess he’d turned you into. Taehyun was as eager to please as he was allergic to being on the receiving end. The concept of letting you take care of him was laughable, sacrilegious, even. He never let you, not once. As if your love was something he didn’t need to feel. Only something he was born to give.

He never asked or expected. He only gave, and gave, and gave. But tonight, you decided to try anyway.

There he was now, creeping into the kitchen to make you a snack because he’d heard your stomach rumble while the two of you curled up in bed mid-movie. When you reached for him, questioning why he paused the TV, he only smiled softly, kissed your temple, and slipped out from under the covers.

For a moment, you lay in the dark listening: the clinking of metal, the click of the stove, the crinkle of packaging. Soon, the savory scent of your favorite instant ramen drifted down the hallway. It pulled you from bed like a thread tied to your chest. And the moment you step into the kitchen, your heart nearly stops.

He’s shirtless, facing away from you as he stirs the pot. The warm overhead light carves golden lines down his back. His shoulder blades shifting with every movement. Sweatpants hang low on his narrow hips, the waistband tugging slightly down on one side. He’s completely unaware of how devastating he looks, and that only makes it worse.

You swallow, mouth watering—and not just because of the ramen.

A few more steps forward and you're wrapping your arms around his torso from behind. Taehyun jumps, slightly startled, then relaxes into your touch with a smile. He sets the chopsticks aside and folds his arms over yours in a welcoming gesture.

"Hi baby," he hums with contentment.

"Hi," you smile into his skin, cheek pressed to the expanse of his back. "Smells good." A soft sigh leaves your lips, warm breath brushing his bare shoulder.

Goosebumps rise across his skin. He can feel the shape of you—your nipples faintly brushing through the thin fabric of your t-shirt, your hips pressing gently to his. He knows without looking that you’re wearing nothing underneath but panties.

Still, he doesn’t move. He lets you hold him. But you? You’re already planning to do more than hold.

Your arms tighten, lips beginning to brush his back. You feel the tremor that runs through him, the tension pooling just beneath his skin. And still, he doesn’t pull away.

You trail your fingers along the firm plane of his stomach carefully, until your palms rest flat over the waistband of his sweats. You don’t dip beneath just yet, instead holding him there like he’s yours to touch.

He draws a controlled breath through his nose. “Baby…” he warns gently, voice catching in his throat.

“I know,” you whisper. “Just... let me.”

You turn him around by the hips, and Taehyun allows it, chest rising now with more visible effort. He leans back slightly against the counter perpendicular to the stove, arms going loose at his sides like he’s trying to prove something to himself and to you. But his eyes are already dark, focused on your mouth intently.

You press a kiss to his sternum. He gulps hard. Another kiss to the edge of his collarbone. And then, finally, you tilt your face up and catch his mouth with yours.

It starts sweet, nothing but melted sugar and warmth. His lips move slowly, savoring the feeling as he holds himself back.

But then your hands slip to the sides of his neck, pulling him deeper, angling his head how you want him. Your tongue drags against his with hot need. You kiss like you’ve forgotten what patience even means.

Taehyun moans softly against your lips, involuntarily. You feel his knees bend slightly, as if his whole body wants to follow yours.

You pull back, just enough to murmur, “Sit for me.”

Before he can question it, you gently push him toward the chair at the kitchen table.

He stumbles back a step and halts. His brows twitch with uncertainty. You watch the flicker in his expression: a flash of confusion and resistance. He’s never been the one sitting like this. He doesn’t really know how.

But you step forward, crowding him slowly, guiding him with your hands on his waist like you’re offering him something for once instead of taking. The backs of his legs hit the chair.

You don’t force him down, you just press lightly. He lets out a breath and finally sits.

For a second, Taehyun looks bewitched by you in the most gorgeous way. Hair tousled, chest rising and falling too fast, mouth pink and kiss-bitten. His hands clutch the edge of the seat like it’s anchoring him to the earth. Because he really might float away if he doesn’t hold on.

You climb into his lap with reverence, legs folding around him, your hands smoothing over his shoulders. His skin is flushed. His cock presses hard against you through the thin fabric of his sweats, and the friction alone has him sighing like he’s seconds from losing composure.

You kiss him again, filthier this time. Your hips roll forward, just enough to force a strangled noise from him.

“Let me take care of you for once,” you whisper into his mouth.

Your hand snakes its way down Taehyun’s abdomen. He’s so tense it’s almost laughable. He’s fighting within himself, wanting so bad to give in. But it felt unnatural.

“Baby… you don’t have to.”

His eyes are wired shut when he speaks. You don’t even grace him with a response. He sits there, feeling useless, feeling you place your lips in all the right places across his neck and jaw, fingers finding their way to cutely snake into his sweatpants.

But all he can think about is how you’re probably soaked under those panties. How you must be clenching around nothing, begging to be touched. You must want to be cared for, and oh how he wanted it to be him doing it. Suddenly, he can’t get the idea of you whining and cumming at his manipulation out of his mind.

That’s when the panic sets it.

Taehyun huffs, a sharp and frustrated sound that floods your ears, before gripping your waist so suddenly it makes you yelp. His eyes snap open, blown wide with want. So much want it nearly breaks you.

“I can’t,” he says hoarsely. “You don’t get it—I can’t.”

He lifts you with too much ease, standing abruptly, the chair scraping against the floor. Your legs tighten around him out of instinct. He presses your back to the kitchen table, firm but not rough, breathing hard. His forehead falls against yours.

“I’ll lose my mind if I don’t touch you the way I need to.” His voice is a growl now, trembling with restraint. “You don’t get to make me feel good and expect me to just sit here. That’s not how this works. That’s never been how this works.”

You see it all over him—how badly he wants the pleasure you’re offering, and how violently it clashes with the way he’s wired to love. It’s sexy, yes, but it’s also so deeply revealing you feel it split something open inside you. It's not that he doesn't want it. It's that he simply can't compute it.

His hands roam. One cups your jaw, the other sliding beneath your thighs. He’s already rolling his hips into you, chasing friction like it’s air.

“You’re not supposed to take care of me,” he hisses against your neck. “That’s not—what I’m made for.”

You gasp as his mouth finds the edge of your collarbone, biting gently. His grip on your waist tightens, and just like that, the control is back in his hands.

He rises slightly, pushing your shirt up over your chest to see all of you. Nipples flushed pink and hard with need, black underwear that he picked out already soaked and hugging the outline of your folds. He stares unashamedly like he always does. His hands are rough, tracing you from your ribs to your thighs as if reacquainting himself with your body.

"If I stop giving... and I let you give, it’s like I’ve failed you," he mutters, eyes glazed over with lustful thoughts of you.

While he's too busy eye-fucking you, you take your chance. You sit up slightly, just enough to reach for his cheek, grazing it softly.

“You haven’t failed anything. You love me so well. Let me love you back.” You attempt to bargain.

You rise further, closing the gap between you with a slow kiss, your legs looping around his waist to tug him closer, ankles locked. But he catches your wrist mid-motion, grinning softly, already seeing through your plan. Of course you’d try to flip the script.

But he can't take it anymore, not with your bodies this close. The food sizzles on the stove, but he doesn't care. His desire to serve takes over.

He scoops your thighs into his arms and drags you to the edge of the table, then drops to his knees. Your legs fall open over his shoulders. A breathy moan slips from his lips as he drinks in the new view—now eye level with your dripping cunt.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “I need to. Please—just let me.”

Your soaked panties cling to you obscenely, a clear outline of want pressed against black lace. He hums low in his chest, the sound nearly guttural.

Taehyun presses a kiss to your inner thigh, then another, this one open-mouthed and wet, teeth grazing just enough to make you mewl. His fingers dig into the meat of your thighs to anchor himself.

He moans just from the scent of you. “Fuck." His voice is muffled, lost in the heat between your legs. “So wet.”

“Oh my god-“ You gasp as his tongue presses flat against the soaked crotch of your panties. Taehyun doesn't bother pulling them aside. No, that would be too simple. He’s decided you’re getting ruined like this: his mouth taking you through the fabric, letting every flick of his tongue sink through cotton and lace to where you need him most, and it works.

Your hips are arching up into him. But he’s relentless, hands sliding up to hold you still, palms splayed across your chest.

“Stay still,” his voice vibrated against you. “Let me do this right.”

He licks you long and slow, savoring the way your arousal has soaked through and made the panties cling to you like a second skin. Every pass of his tongue has your thighs trembling, your hands reaching blindly for something to hold.

You fist his hair. Taehyun groans—really groans—like your fingers pulling at his scalp could make him cum untouched. He presses his face deeper between your legs, nuzzling the soaked fabric as if inhaling you could give him life.

His tongue finds your clit. Even through the damp cotton, it sends a bolt of pleasure tearing through your spine. Your back arches and a cry escapes you. He hums again, pleased, adjusting the angle so he can suck gently, just enough pressure to make your vision blur.

“That’s it, baby,” he inhales deeply. “Give it to me. Let me have all of it.” He exhales just as deeply.

You don’t know if he’s talking about your moans, your pussy, your entire fucking soul, but you let him have it. Maybe this was your way of giving to him.

Taehyun keeps eating, savoring, and drinking you in through the delicate fabric until it's useless and he’s so hard in his sweatpants he could cry. One of his hands leaves your hip to slip between his legs, palming himself through the fabric just for a second, just enough to breathe again.

Then his mouth drags lower, tongue teasing the spot just beneath your entrance through the sheer fabric before returning to your clit. You're writhing now, moaning like a confession, your thighs trying to close in around his head but he won’t let them.

“You're almost there, aren't you?” His voice is noticeably ruined. “Cum for me. I want to feel you shake on my tongue.”

He licks harder, and you shatter.

Your orgasm hits like a wave. Crashing and sweeping through your entire body until your hands fall from his hair and you’re barely able to breathe, whimpering his name over and over.

Still, he doesn’t stop, not until your hips twitch from overstimulation and your whines turn into helpless little pleas for him to end it. Only then does he pull back, panting, chin glistening, and your panties practically glued to you.

He looks up at you like he’s blessed. This is the only thing he’s ever prayed to.

“Better?” he asks, voice hoarse, lips curled into the faintest, self-satisfied smirk.

You're so busy coming down from your orgasm, about to respond, that you don’t even realize he’s stripped you. Your soaked panties gone along with his boxers and sweatpants, discarded somewhere on the kitchen table.

When you glance down, he’s already between your thighs again, his cock hard against your leg. You’re still catching your breath, body trembling from your orgasm, but his hands are already moving.

He lifts one leg, then the other, hooking the backs of your knees over the crooks of his elbows like he's done plenty of times before. His chest brushes yours, folding you in half on the table, breath warm against your skin as he lines himself up.

“Let me give you more,” he murmurs, every syllable soaking with need. “Let me stay inside you until you forget your own name.”

Then he’s pushing in devastatingly deep. Your breath stutters, your head tilting back as he sinks you down onto him inch by inch. His grip tightens around your thighs, holding you to him while your body opens for him completely.

You can feel every inch of Taehyun. But it’s not just the fullness that makes you a whimpering mess, it’s the way he’s holding you there, pinned to the surface.

“Fuck,” Taehyun exhales, eyes fluttering shut. “You feel—Jesus.”

Your hands reach to grip his neck as he starts to move. Each thrust is so expertly precise. The slow drag out, the firmer press in. His rhythm is just right, but his breath is ragged. You cling to the edge of the table and to him, legs still lifted, knees trembling slightly where they’re slung over his arms.

Taehyun's hands grip your body in a way they've never held you before. And he groans every time he bottoms out inside you.

The kitchen is filled with the slick, inappropriate sound of him moving inside you. The quiet hiss of the stove behind you both now forgotten, noodles cooking past perfect. The smell of ramen and sex drifts through the air.

“Taehyun!” you gasp, head tipping back. This is his favorite view of you.

“Yeah?” he pants, not stopping once. “Say it again.”

You do. Over and over. Not just his name, but everything. What he feels like, how he fucks you, how he makes you feel like no one else ever has. You don’t know what you’re saying anymore. Only that it pours out of you in moans and broken whines.

You feel it building again, this time too fast and way too strong. Your body tenses around him.

He must feel it too, because he drops your legs from his elbows and folds you close, hips never faltering as he hooks his arms around your waist and lifts you clean off the table. You gasp in surprise, clutching his shoulders.

Now it’s chest to chest, his forehead against yours, your legs wrapped tight around his hips. Your nails score his back as he fucks you suspended in the air.

“Come on, baby,” he pleads, voice cracked as he slams you down onto his cock. “Give it to me one more time.”

You shatter for the second time in your little kitchen. This one rips through you harder than before. You cry out, whole body shaking and convulsing around him, just the way he likes.

“Fuckfuckfuck—fuck,” he hisses, every muscle in his body going rigid as he drives into you one last time and cums harder than ever. His hips falter, then still as he pushes in as deep as possible, moaning into your mouth as he buries himself to the hilt.

Silence slowly follows. Beautiful, comfortable silence.

Taehyun doesn’t pull out of you right away. He lowers both of you down slowly, your back landing softly against the now-cleared table. His cheek rests against your thigh, damp with sweat, lips parted as he catches his breath. His arms are still around your waist. You brush a hand through his hair, looking down at him.

“One day, I’ll make you let me take care of you.” You can't help but smile.

He half-laughs and murmurs back, “I'll die trying to stop you.”

You feel the slight ache in his words. Because behind them, you worry Taehyun thinks he’s unworthy of being taken care of by you. That’s the part that guts you.

You sit up just slightly, shifting your weight until you're able to reach the stove. The ramen is still there, now slightly burnt at the edges, thick with overcooked noodles. Laughing quietly, you dish some into a bowl, scooping a bite with your chopsticks and blowing to cool it down. When you turn back and offer it to him, he almost hesitates.

But eventually Taehyun lets you. He opens his mouth, and you feed him. He chews, swallows, then drops his forehead into your neck with a sigh so deep as he relaxes into your warmth.

This is the kind of peace he’s never allowed himself. But tonight, just for a moment, he does for you.

tags: @bunnysoonie @zznblr @another-lemon-tree @gyudollies @beomgyusluver @dawngyu @boba-beom @taebatu @simpforseoho @beestvng @yyeonbinn @chubichubs @jooyeonsvape @txt-thelmi @zorange13 @jellyyjn @frenziedpiratetrap @gardnhee @txtsdoll @annovaz @morguebounddoll @melmochii @yunhorights @saccharinezennie @gyutaepie @313hwa @tyuncloudreamy @ijustwannareadstuff20 @bamtor1sss @iyoonjh

likes/reblogs/comments always appreciated <3

[haberai]

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[orellazalonia]

What They Can See

Summary: The Avengers intercept with the evacuation plans and take you in. Not as a teammate, but as a question mark, an echo of someone they failed to see until it was far too late.

Word Count: 3.5k+

Main Masterlist | The One You Don’t See Masterlist

The blast came without warning.

Not an explosion meant to kill, but one designed to disable. It was controlled, pinpointed, and unmistakably Stark tech. A pulse charge detonated just ahead of the lead vehicle, and in an instant, everything unraveled. The tires screamed against the dirt, the van fish-tailed with a shriek of momentum before grinding to a shuddering, crooked stop.

Inside the second van, your van, there was a beat of stunned silence. No panic. No screaming. Just the heavy realization of what had happened. They’d found you.

Before the driver could even slam the gear into reverse, a concussive blast rocked the rear tires. Outside, shadows moved with swift, practiced silence. Boots on gravel. Air cutting open with a grappling hook. The whirrrr of wings folding in above the dust.

A moment later, the door was ripped open.

The sunlight poured in like judgment.

“Hands up!” Sam barked, silhouette cutting against the bright sky, gauntlet sparking slightly as his stance remained defensive but ready.

The others in the van reacted out of instinct. One went for a weapon and was instantly stunned by a tranquilizer dart. Another tried to bolt, only to meet the barrel of Natasha’s sidearm as she moved like water, cold, efficient, and already in position.

You didn’t move. Your eyes remained forward. Blank and observing. You heard the familiar shift of Steve’s boots hitting the ground outside, the echo of authority in his stride. His voice followed: low, controlled, unshakable.

“Step out. Now.”

You obeyed and so did the rest. No one had to force you. You moved on your own, stepping out of the vehicle slowly, deliberately with your hands raised, fingers open. You didn’t stumble. You didn’t shrink. You didn’t try to explain.

Which may have been why the silence you brought with you was louder than any fight.

Natasha’s expression cracked first. Her brows pulled in, confused and cautious. Sam’s mouth opened slightly, like he wanted to say something but didn’t have the words ready. Steve watched you the way a soldier might stare at a field that used to be home before it was turned to ash.

And Bucky?

He didn’t speak, barely breathed. He just stared. Because the moment he saw you, really saw you, it hit like a punch to the ribs. The same you, and yet not. You were dressed in plain black tactical gear. No insignia. No visible rank. Your face was unreadable and your posture was calm. Too calm.

Not frightened. Not pleading. Just… present. Present in a way that was devastating. Because you weren’t a hostage and you weren’t broken. You were gone in a way none of them had anticipated. And worse… it looked like you had chosen to be.

A second later, the front cab was forced open. Maren was yanked out, her shoulder bleeding from a clean graze, but her mouth twisted into a half-smile that seemed to mock the whole situation. She was cuffed quickly, pushed to her knees as Natasha kept a watchful eye on the others being subdued around her.

“Guess the rescue party showed up after all,” She muttered, looking up with a smirk. “Bit dramatic, don’t you think?”

Steve didn’t dignify it with a response.

The moment ended without fanfare. Orders were given. Guards cuffed. Others secured. The vehicles were abandoned. And you, once a quiet, unnoticed worker, were walked cuffed and silent into the Quinjet like a piece of evidence.

You walked without looking at the others. Without acknowledging the way they glanced at you from the corners of their eyes, searching for a trace of who you used to be. The girl who fetched their files. Who memorized their preferences. Who spoke only when needed and even then, softly.

They hadn’t seen her before. But now they couldn’t stop looking. You sat when they told you to. A designated seat in the rear of the jet, near the storage hull. Secure and monitored.

Sam sat across from you, adjusting a wrap on his arm. He stared for a while in silence.

Then, gently, “Are you okay?”

You didn’t answer. Not out of defiance, but because what did that even mean? What version of okay could he possibly be asking about?

Okay that they left you? Okay that they forgot? Okay that they were too late to save someone who didn’t need saving anymore?

You turned your head away and stared out the window instead.

Quinjet lifted with a quiet shudder which made you look up, just once.

And there you saw Bucky who sat near the front silently, staring back at you. He didn’t look triumphant. He looked like someone staring at the answer to a question he wasn’t sure he wanted to ask.

And still, you gave him nothing. Not a smile. Not a glare. Not even a flicker of emotion. You just turned your gaze away again.

Let them take you back. Let them try to fit you into a puzzle they never understood to begin with. Let them think this was over.

When you all finally made it to the compound, your arrival wasn’t met with alarms.

No red lights. No blaring sirens. No dramatic hallway confrontations. Just silence and a small, reinforced holding room. It wasn’t a cell, exactly, but not a guest suite either. It was simply neutral, clinical, sterile. Possessing a two-way mirror, observation camera, padded bench, and a single table with no sharp edges.

You didn’t complain. You sat quietly, as you always had, hands folded in your lap, looking more like an intern waiting for a meeting than someone fresh out of enemy custody.

Except now, no one could agree on what you were. And the longer you remained quiet, the harder it became for them to pretend you were just another debrief waiting to happen.

Steve paced the briefing room like he was chasing ghosts.

“She hasn’t asked for a lawyer. Hasn’t spoken to anyone,” He said, running a hand through his hair. “She’s not requesting immunity, not requesting to leave. It’s like she’s… waiting.”

“For what?” Sam asked. “Permission to go back?”

“She didn’t try to,” Natasha pointed out. She was seated at the table, arms crossed, fingers tapping a slow rhythm on her sleeve. “We intercepted the evacuation. She was calm and complied, came with us.”

“She came with us,” Bucky echoed quietly from the corner, “But she didn’t come back.”

The room stilled.

Bruce looked up from the file in front of him, his voice low. “She worked with them for almost six months now. Designed their data systems. Improved their evasion tactics. That organization spread faster than we predicted because of her.”

“She’s not a killer,” Bucky said suddenly, sharply.

“No,” Natasha agreed, eyes unreadable. “But she’s not innocent either.”

Silence fell again.

Sam sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. “So what now? We charge her? Let the UN poke at her until she shuts down and disappears into some prison for the rest of her life?”

“She’s not some war criminal,” Bucky snapped. “She’s someone we let slip through the cracks.”

“She’s someone who chose to work for the people tearing the world apart,” Steve said. His voice wasn’t angry, just tired. “She made that decision.”

“But why?” Bucky asked, gaze hard. “Because they kidnapped her? Because they brainwashed her? Or because the people who were supposed to look after her treated her like a shadow for years?”

That landed with weight. Steve didn’t argue it. No one did.

Later, the woman Bucky had been seeing slipped into the room with two cups of tea. She set one down beside Steve and held her own with both hands, steam curling softly between her fingers.

“She hasn’t said anything?” She asked lightly.

“No,” Steve murmured, jaw tight.

“Strange,” She said with a soft frown. “I mean, maybe she just doesn’t know what to say. Or who to say it to. Not everyone’s built for pressure, you know.”

Bucky looked at her sharply, but she didn’t notice. Or pretended not to.

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” She added. “But if you guys need help getting through to her… let me know.”

Then she smiled and left.

Sam watched her go, then looked at Bucky. “She’s too curious about all this.”

“She’s always been curious,” Bucky muttered, eyes narrowed. “But now I’m starting to think it wasn’t just about me.”

And in your room, you waited.

You’d been fed. You’d been watched. But no one had come in to speak with you yet. They didn’t know where to start.

Were you a threat? A victim? A former ally gone wrong? Or just a quiet girl who had finally stopped waiting to be seen?

You leaned back against the wall, expression unreadable. They didn’t know what to do with you, but neither did you.

In the late evening, you heard him before you saw him.

Not his voice, his steps. You knew the way he walked. The weight in each step. The pause before the door hissed open like he wasn’t sure if he should come in. Part of you wanted to sit straighter. Fix your posture. Pretend you hadn’t been slumped against the wall like a wilted plant for the last hour.

But you didn’t move. You didn’t look up. Not until he spoke.

“Did you know it was me?” He asked, his voice softer than you expected. Hesitant.

You blinked, still facing the wall. Of course it was him. You’d felt it the second he stepped onto that dirt road. That particular silence he carried, the kind that wrapped around a room instead of filling it.

“When we hit the base,” He added. “Did you know I was there?”

Your throat tightened. You simply shrugged.

The silence between you stretched, awkward but not unfamiliar. He didn’t rush to fill it, didn’t pace or fidget like Steve or Sam might. He just stood there, watching you like you were a stormcloud he’d once walked beneath and couldn’t decide if it had ever really rained.

“You looked different,” He said after a beat. “Not scared. Not… lost. Just… like you’d made a life there.”

That stung more than it should’ve. You turned your head, just a little and met his eyes. And God help you, he still looked like him.

Bucky Barnes. The man you used to think was unreachable. Not because he was distant even though he was, but because even his kindness felt like it was meant for someone else. Someone bolder. Braver. Not the background girl who handed him intel reports with shaking fingers and too many unspoken words.

“That wasn’t a life,” You murmured.

It was the first thing you’d said in a while. Your voice came out rough, unfamiliar even to you.

He froze.

You watched him. Steady and tired.

“They made space for me,” You said quietly. “Gave me work, a purpose. They asked me questions and noticed me.”

He took a step forward, then another.

“You mattered here,” He said gently.

You almost laughed. You really, really almost did.

“To who?” You asked, too softly to be bitter. Just curious now. Exhausted.

Because even after everything, even after all the silence and distance, you still remembered what it felt like to watch him laugh with someone else. To stand near him and never be seen. And to know he’d never love you. Not like that, not the way you had quietly hoped.

Your voice was steady but sharp with the effort it took to keep it that way. “I wasn’t like the rest of you. I didn’t save cities. I didn’t have charm, training, or powers. I didn’t matter until I left.”

His eyes searched yours. “That’s not true.”

You gave him a look, more tired than angry.

“Then why didn’t anyone notice I was gone?”

Bucky looked away first. His silence didn’t sting the way it used to. It just confirmed what you’d already known. They’d missed you the moment they saw what you’d become, not when you were still there.

His mouth pressed into a thin line. You watched the guilt rise in him like steam, curling under his skin.

“I wasn’t angry when I left,” you said. “ I didn’t even plan to. I was just… forgotten. And then someone remembered me. They kept me, treated me like I was useful, even if it was for the wrong reasons. And I kept telling myself I’d leave eventually. But…”

You looked away.

But you didn’t come looking.

Not Bucky. Not Steve. Not anyone. And God, you hated that some small, aching part of you still cared what Bucky thought now. That same part of you that used to wonder if the way he lingered in doorways or offered quiet thank you’s meant anything. That used to hope maybe one day he’d notice you beyond the reports and the routine.

And now here he was. Sitting across from you like you were someone who mattered again. And yet, it was too Too late.

“I never forgot you,” He said suddenly, voice low.

You met his eyes again, and for a moment, something cracked in you. The part that still held onto old feelings. The part that used to whisper: Maybe if you were enough, he’d see you.

He leaned forward slightly, forearms on his knees, and brow drawn with a guilt he wore too well.

“Steve doesn’t know what to do. Neither does Natasha. Sam is worried the UN’s gonna step in and turn this into a case file.”

You didn’t speak.

“They don’t know if you were taken… or if you chose it.”

You swallowed.

“What about you?” You asked quietly. “What do you think?”

He looked at you fully then. Like he wasn’t sure whether to reach for you or let you go, like someone scared to break something already fractured.

“I think you didn’t have a reason to stay,” He said. “And that’s on us.”

You blinked fast. Don’t cry. Not in front of him. Not now.

He added, even softer, “I should’ve checked in. Should’ve talked to you more. Noticed more. You were always… there. I just got used to it. I never asked what that cost you.”

You stared at him. Because all those things were true. And none of them fixed anything. And still, some hollow part of you ached to believe him. To believe he meant it. Even now. Even after everything.

He stood slowly. “I don’t know what happens next, but know I’m here for you. Just call.”

You didn’t answer and he left without expecting one. The door hissed closed behind him.

You didn’t move for a long time. Just sat there on the padded bench, wrists still sore from the cuffs. The room smelled like recycled air and too-clean walls.

You could still feel where he’d looked at you.

Not physically, but in that way you knew too well. The way people stared when they noticed you. When they suddenly realized they’d been blind for too long, and it was too late to undo it.

You curled your knees up and rested your chin on them.

He used to smile at the woman who brought him coffee. Not you. She was light, easy with conversation. She’d wear sun-warmed sweaters and brush Bucky’s arm without hesitation. She looked like she belonged.

You were the one who memorized his black coffee order and left it near his door when he was too tired to ask. You were the one who adjusted the lighting in the mission briefings because you noticed he flinched in the brighter rooms. The one who once thought—

Stop.

You squeezed your eyes shut hard, trying to burn the thoughts away. But they came anyway.

You had fallen for a version of him that was never yours to begin with. You’d wanted something gentle, something quiet, something kind. But you’d mistaken his silence for softness. Mistaken his nods for something closer. Mistaken your own loneliness for love.

And now, after all that?

You were back in their hands. Not trusted. Not freed. Just… tolerated. An inconvenient problem with too much history to erase and too little value to keep.

You wiped at your eyes angrily before the tears could fall. You weren’t going to cry. Not for them. Not for him.

Let Bucky feel guilty. Let them all feel it. Because none of them came when it mattered. Not when you started slipping. Not when you stopped showing up in common areas. Not when you left.

They only came when they needed to clean up their own mess.

You weren’t their teammate. You were their oversight.

And now? Now they didn’t know whether to lock you up or pretend they cared.

It was a while later until they brought you into a smaller room this time.

No restraints. Just two guards who didn’t meet your eyes, and a seat bolted to the floor in front of a metal table that had been polished too clean. Across from it were two empty chairs. One for Steve. One for Natasha.

Of course it would be them.

The two who always had to hold the line. Captain America and the spy who never missed anything. Fair. Tactical. Clinical.

Your steps were quieter than theirs. You didn’t need to be announced.

So, you sat.

The room wasn’t cold, but you felt cold anyway. That kind of chill that sinks in from being looked through too many times for too many years. That kind of ache that crept up behind your ribs and made your chest feel hollow.

The door opened softly as Steve entered first, jaw tense, and posture perfect. Natasha followed. Her eyes didn’t flicker toward you immediately, but you knew better. She was already studying everything: your posture, your breathing, and the faint tremor in your fingers.

They sat down with no smiles or greetings.

Steve reached for the file in front of him, but didn’t open it.

“You’ve been quiet since we brought you in,” He said gently, like he didn’t want to push. “We’re hoping you’ll talk now.”

You tilted your head. Not sarcastic. Not cold. Just… blank.

“What exactly do you want me to say?”

It was Natasha who answered. “The truth.”

That made you laugh, quiet and breathless. Not because it was funny. But because it was too late for that.

Your eyes focused on the table instead of them. “Do you want the part where I was kidnapped? Or the part where I didn’t come back because no one noticed I left?”

Natasha didn’t flinch, but Steve did. The truth hit harder than any accusation.

“We noticed,” He said, too quickly. “Eventually.”

You let the pause stretch, slow and cruel.

“Yeah,” You whispered. “Eventually.”

They didn’t speak. You could hear the hum of the security camera above.

And you hated how your voice still shook when you finally asked, “Do you think I’m the enemy now?”

Steve’s eyes softened. That was almost worse.

“No,” He said, and there was truth in it, but also uncertainty. “We think you were used. Maybe manipulated. Maybe… maybe you didn’t see a way out.”

“But I did,” You replied. “Plenty of times. I just stopped looking for one.”

That landed like stone in water. A long silence passed where both of them looked at each other, probably considering what to say next. What could they even say.

You looked up then, straight at Natasha. “Why didn’t you ever talk to me?”

She blinked, slow. But she didn’t dodge the question.

“You didn’t need anyone,” She said. “You were self-sufficient, quiet, and focused. You did your job better than most of the team. We thought you liked it that way.”

You swallowed.

“I thought if I was good enough, someone might—” You cut yourself off, jaw tightening. “Forget it.”

“No,” Steve said quietly, leaning forward now. “Say it.”

Your gaze flicked between them. And maybe some stubborn, lonely part of you wanted to say it. Just so they’d hear it out loud. Just so someone could hold the weight of it with you.

“I thought if I was good enough, someone might finally see me.”

The silence that followed cracked something open.

Not in them. In you. You felt it rising all at once. Grief, shame, anger, tight in your throat.

“I gave everything I had to a team that didn’t notice I was drowning,” You whispered. “And then someone threw me a rope. Even if it was a trap, it still looked like kindness.”

Natasha’s voice was quieter now. “And now?”

You looked at her, at both of them.

“I don’t know who I am without them. But I sure as hell don’t want to be who I was before.”

Steve sat back, the words heavy between you. This wasn’t the kind of debrief they could file away. This wasn’t about secrets or plans or threats.

This was about a girl who used to long to belong and the result of what became of her when no one made space for her to stay.

You’re not the villain here. But you’re not their teammate anymore either. And that’s starting to sink in deeper than ever before.

Taglist: @herejustforbuckybarnes @iyskgd @torntaltos @julesandgems @maesmayhem @w-h0re @pookalicious-hq @parkerslivia @whisperingwillowxox @stell404 @wingstoyourdreams @seventeen-x @mahimagi @viktor-enjoyer @vicmc624 @msbyjackal @winchestert101 @greatenthusiasttidalwave @avivarougestan @saoirses-things @itsmejen @saucysasha2035

[theh0lylyre]

10 minutes!~

👀

(dante x f!reader, reader is a devil hunter too of course but you are in a relationship with dante, oral (reader is receiving))

💋 dante is stressed out before a meeting, but only you can be the one to relieve his stress.

THIS IS SO CRINGE but anything for the loyal Dante fans 🥰 enjoy~ also i love his eyes sm- I AM LOYAL TO VERGIL I SWEAR🧍‍♂️

Dante's eyes darted around his cluttered desk, his heart racing faster than a Formula 1 car. He was a man on a mission, searching for the elusive paperclip that had decided to play hide and seek at the most inconvenient time. His fingers danced over the mess, pushing aside crumpled pieces of paper, a forgotten strawberry sundae, and a half-eaten pizza. The clock on the wall was a silent yet persistent reminder of the ticking minutes. He had exactly ten more to get ready for the next meeting with the devil hunters.

"Dante, are you okay?" Your soft voice echoed through the doorway. You leaned against the frame, your brow furrowed with concern. You were dressed impeccably, not a single hair out of place, unlike the chaotic scene you found before you. Dante looked up, his cheeks flushing a shade darker than his coat. "Yeah, just...looking for something," he mumbled, hoping you couldn't see his shaking hands.

You stepped into the room, your boots clicking against the wooden floor. "You know the meeting starts in ten minutes, right?" You asked, your tone a blend of amusement and urgency. Dante nodded, his mind racing. He had never been late for anything in his career, and he wasn't about to start now. "I'm almost done," he lied, his voice strained. The paperclip remained elusive, like a mirage in the desert of his desk.

"Let me help," you offered, your eyes scanning the mess. Your hands moved swiftly and efficiently, a stark contrast to Dante's frenzied search. Within seconds, you plucked a shiny paperclip from beneath a stack of files. "Here it is," you said, smiling sweetly. Dante took it with a sigh of relief, his eyes meeting yours for a brief moment. In that instant, something changed. The tension in the room grew palpable, and the air crackled with an unspoken energy that neither could ignore.

Without warning, Dante's hand shot out, grabbing the back of your neck, and he pulled you into a fierce kiss. You gasped, surprised, but didn't push away. Instead, your arms wrapped around his waist, drawing him closer. The paperclip fell forgotten to the floor, unnoticed. Only a whirlwind of passion, the stress of the impending meeting dissipating like mist in the sun.

Both bodies collided, the desk creaking under the sudden weight. Dante's hand slid down your back, cupping your waist and lifting you onto the desk. The papers scattered, fluttering to the floor like leaves in an autumn breeze. Your legs wrapped around him, your skirt riding up. He felt the warmth of your skin beneath his fingertips, your breath hot against his ear as you whispered, "We don't have much time."

The urgency in your voice only fueled his desire. He kissed your neck, feeling the rapid beat of your pulse under his lips. His hands roamed up your thighs, the fabric of your stockings smooth and inviting. Your hands were busy too, unbuttoning his black shirt, your nails lightly scratching his chest. You had to be quick, silent, and precise, like ninjas in a library.

Dante leaned back, looking into your eyes, and whispered, "I need this, y/n." You nodded, your own eyes dark with need. You both knew the risk, but the thrill was too much to resist. With a swift movement, you adjust your position, breathing shallow and erratic. You could already hear Trish and Lady chattering outside.

He knelt before you, his hands sliding under your skirt, pushing it aside to reveal your lacy panties. He took a moment to appreciate the sight before him, your bare thighs and the hint of what lay beneath the fabric. With a wicked grin, Dante hooked his thumbs into the waistband and pulled them down, exposing you to the cool air. Your cheeks flushed a deep crimson, but you didn't protest, your legs parting slightly in invitation.

He leaned in, his breath hot on your skin, and took a long, lingering lick from the base of your thigh to your clit. You gasped, your hips jerking upwards. The devil hunter took his time, savoring your sweetness and the way you quivered under his touch. His tongue danced around you, teasing and tasting, until you were moaning softly. He could feel the heat of your arousal, the way you grew wetter with every stroke.

Your hands gripped the edge of the desk, knuckles white, as you struggled to keep your voice down. Dante knew he had you on the edge and didn't hold back. He buried his face between your thighs, his tongue working you in a rhythm that mirrored the ticking clock on the wall. Your moans grew louder, your body tensing. He could feel your orgasm building, the way you tightened around his mouth. And when you came, it was a silent explosion of pleasure, your body arching and your eyes squeezed shut.

For a moment, you remained frozen, panting and trembling. Then, with a grin, Dante stood up, straightening his coat and smoothing out his shirt. "Now, I think I'm ready for that meeting," he said, his voice low and filled with satisfaction. You slid off the desk, adjusting your own clothing with shaky hands.

[jinwoosbabyboo]

"Safe and Sound.....Kinda" pt. 1

You went M.I.A and the LADS Men are stressed!

Zayne

MC: Lets get dinner when I get back from this three day mission Zayne: Im not sure whether you're brave or idiotic MC: What do you mean? Zayne: A hunter with ample heart issues agreeing to go on a three day excursion its risky MC: I'll be fine besides I have you to take care of me Dr. Zayne Zayne: How many of you are going on this mission MC: There's eight of us in total and I'm partnered with Tara

Two days have passed since Zayne spoke to you. Just one more day and he'll see your pretty face again. He smiled to himself "How childish" he mumbled to himself as his leg bounced with anticipation of seeing you soon. Just then his work phone rang "Dr. Zayne speaking"

"Dr. Zayne we need you in the ER stat" Yvonne's voice was much more stern compared to her soft easy going tone. This was serious. He stood quickly moving around his desk; throwing on his white coat not missing a beat as he made his way to the ER.

"Give me a rundown of the situation" Zayne said as Grayson jogged the catch up with him. "We have seven patients, two unconscious, and all severely injured, the hunters association told us they were on a mission that went wrong a frenzy of wanderers appeared through a rift"

Time seemed to slow as Zayne's mind swam through the possibilities that this could be for squadron. "Give me the names"

"Ceila 21, Terrance 24, Mico 21, Tara-"

"Tara? is MC among these patients?" If looks could turn someone to stone Grayson would be a statue in the courtyard by now. He quickly flipped through the pages on the clipboard searching for your name. "I don't see her name here"

"You said there were seven ... is someone missing?" Zayne asked as he could feel his blood pressure rising.

"Zayne!" Someone was calling his name. "Zayne!" The voice was coming from a pale woman with short brown hair. She had lacerations scattered across her body; her torn uniform hanging on by a thread. She was covered in bruises and was about to pass out from blood loss any minute. "You have to help her..."

"Help who?"

"MC ... she's still ... she's still fighting ....... alone .......... you have to find her" Time seemed to slow as reality set in. MC was alone with the wanderers who did this to her team. All the oxygen left Zayne's body in an instant.

"Dr. Zayne they're calling for you in the operating room" Yvonne yelled snapping Zayne out of his mental spiral. "Right, right tell them I'm on my way"

Your profile was flagged as M.I.A. after that day no one knew where you were

Three days.....

Five days.....

One week....

One week three days twenty seven minutes....

Time ticked by slowly tormenting Zayne. He couldn't sleep and his appetite was non existent. Dark shadows formed under his eyes from his late nights going out and searching for you. "Where did you go?" He dropped his head in his hands trying to control his emotions. Just then an unknown number flashed across his phone screen.

"Hello?"

???: Hello, this is Jenna I'm MCs Captain you are listed in her file as an emergency contact. I'm just calling to let you know that we found her, but she's unresponsive. She's being transported to Akso Hospital now......she has a faint pulse.

Zayne dropped his phone and booked it out the door heading straight for the hospital. You were battered, bruised, and bloody but you were breathing and that was enough for Zayne. You had to be put in a medically induced coma so he and the other doctors could stabilize you.

Zayne stayed by your side adjusting your pillows, checking you vitals, and settling into his nightly position sitting bedside with his head in your lap. Rubbing small circles on the back of your hand with his thumb as you lay there motionless. Slow steady breaths with nothing but the sound of the heart monitor melodically singing in the otherwise silent room. He'd wait as long as it would take for you to wake up. You have to wake up.

Rafayel

You were supposed to be back two days ago. Rafayel was losing his mind. "She has twelve hours to contact me before I burn the hunter association headquarters to the ground" he seethed through gritted teeth.

Thomas stood back as Rafayel's anger was radiating off him in waves. He could almost feel the heat of his evol burning his skin.

Next day...

"Are you even looking for her?" Rafayel yelled in Jennas face.

"You're not the only one worried about her sir she's M.I.A. with a damaged hunters watch we're having trouble getting a lock on her coordinates" Jenna smoothed her skirt as she stood from her desk to size up Rafayel. "If you have any suggestion I'm all ears"

"Find her or you can say goodbye to this entire organization"

"Is that a threat?" Jenna stood tall under Rafayel's searing gaze anyone else would have cowered away.

"Its a promise"

One week later...

There's a loud bang on the door of Rafayel's art studio. The sudden noise startled him. "Raf....." The softest voice came from the other side just as he could hear the person sliding down the door and the soft thud of them hitting the ground.

He rushed to the door recognizing your voice. "MC!" You fell backwards as he opened the door. He managed to catch you under you arms. "What happened? Where were you? Don't tell me this is your blood" A blood trail tracked the path you took he could tell you'd fell a few times just trying to get to the door. Blood was smeared down the door and was now slowly pooling underneath the two of you.

"I was so badass" You smiled as you looked up at his blurry face going in and out of focus. "This is not the time for jokes" Your eyelids were so heavy. You tried to respond, but your words came out slow and slurred. "I just....wanted.......to see...........you.....before I.........died" Your head fell back as you passed out from blood loss.

Rafayel scooped up your bloody body and rushed out the door trying not to slip. You were dead weight and your breaths were shallow he knew he didn't have any time to waste. He ran with you in his arms to the nearest hospital begging for help as he fell to his knees with you in his arms.

Like I said safe and sound....kinda.

Xavier & Sylus here ♡

[ronearoundblindly]

Forgot to add In our modern days please

So we've got: ☑️ relaxing ☑️ domestic ☑️ established relationship ☑️ with Steve

Since it's *me,* there's some deep feels in there... plus hearty laughs.

No warnings. It's just headcanon-style fluff!

He likes the warmth of the clothes right out of the dryer, so Steve always thunders over to the laundry room the instant the machine stops. There could be a no-holds-barred action sequence blaring from the TV. There could be real gunshots outside. Doesn't matter. He heard it. As long as you're not in immediate danger, he's going to run and plunge himself shoulder-deep into toasty fabric.

That wasn't a thing when he was a kid. Now, Steve would rather wear out sheets faster than dry them on low heat. He will pay the money. It's worth it.

For the holidays last year, you bought him a huge, fluffy, heated blanket, and he absolutely uses it--keeps himself tucked in until sweating then kicks it off in frustration--but the laundry addiction never stops.

Every time he showers with you at home, you warm his towel in the dryer for a few minutes.

There is nothing, nothing, quite as cute as Steve Rogers burying his face in a fresh towel and hugging it to leech out each extra degree Fahrenheit...or Celsius. He's not picky.

When it's a load of mixed clothing, he scoops it all up and carries it like a boulder over to the bed, bending at his Disney princess waist to press himself in.

Just a minute. Just give him a few deep breaths and a minute.

He likes to fold sheets with you taking one end and him taking the other, coming together in the middle, because no matter how long you two have been a couple, Steve still gets a thrill at his fingers grazing across yours as he takes a corner, as he hands you another. He's a simple man with simple pleasures.

Now, sweaters are a different story.

Steve will wash and dry those however keeps them softest for longest, even if it means putting them on that rack he constantly stubs his toe on. Worth it. Sure. Can we just always put that stupid thing away quickly? He's going to keel over one night trying to get to the bathroom in the dark. Seriously, it's a hazard!

Steve won't wear shoes in the house, which might seem obvious to a lot of people--he's a pretty clean and considerate man, of course he'd want to not bring crap inside, both physically and mentally--but Steve also likes to be barefoot in his home. He doesn't have slippers, but he insists on the floors being pristine.

He vacuums the rugs and carpet constantly because it feels best on his feet that way. Wiggling his toes is part of a grounding ritual he does once home.

Sometimes it's as simple as holding you for a while, savoring a long hug, methodically rubbing your back, and letting you lightly scratch at his.

He prays, in his own way, at that time. What he's grateful for. What he's hopeful for. Thanking whoever or whatever is out there for you.

He's a research fiend. As good as he is about keeping the floors clean, Steve will litter every other surface with books, newspapers, files, magazines, printed articles, and anything else necessary to get the answers he's looking for. He does not like to just search online. He's the weirdo who makes note of the citation online and finds that source at the library.

At some point, you have to put a moratorium on bringing books home when he's deep in that research phase. He's a fast reader; he can scan some there. Steve may be able to check out unlimited volumes, but your home has a finite volume.

You're not discouraging learning, though, just trying to keep it reasonable. No need for him to be possessed by the Ghost of Knowledge Past...

You can tell he's good and properly lost in an art project when supplies are everywhere. Unless it's going to stain/damage something, Steve does not clean-as-he-draws. The colors are out and they are accessible.

You love this; he's happy like this. You let him do it.

Steve gets really, really picky about what art hangs where in your home. He's knows you like his art, but it's nothing compared to the printed and canvased work of the masters. He pitches a fit if you try to display his as predominantly, but you refuse to stick them on the fridge like he's a child.

It's his hobby, he loves it, and he improves in different ways every time he picks up a pencil (or pen). He often has the most casual and fun conversations when he's splitting his brainpower. Steve doesn't particularly know he's doing it (how could he? he'd stop and overthink it if he did), but you can see the stress-thickened aura on him melt away if he's distracted for long enough.

Focusing on cooking with you has the same effect. These activities have become therapy for him--and you--and act as multitasking which is wonderful in the sometimes limited spans he gets to stay at home.

Once almost everything inside your home is setup nicely--there's always room for improvement or redecorating 🤗--Steve makes you two a nook outside to stargaze. He loves to stare and let his mind wander, but he especially loves to have you there in his arms. It's not limited to nighttime either. He's equally thrilled with watching clouds or, if you're under cover, watching storms roll in.

He likes to have you sit between his legs and lean against him. The pressure on his chest is soothing, but he can rest his cheek to yours. Steve gets to use a soft voice then, not his usual, commanding one. With you so close, he can whisper. It's just you two in the whole wide world.

Steve may not be much of a singer, but he uses that same, sweet whisper to share lullabies from his Ma as you fall asleep at night. Not every night, but still. It's magical.

He insists on trying something new every single time he goes to the grocery store. Doesn't matter if it's a condiment or a side dish or a little treat, a new cut of meat or fancy nut milk, Steve has to explore (safely).

He is, of course, still appalled at the price tags, but he also can't judge when something is too expensive since it all is to him. This is how he ended up with a single, $12 dipped pretzel, and you nearly fainted.

It was quite delicious, but never again!

There's a code, a safeword of sorts, for really bad days. Doesn't matter the reason, could be as simple as your brain just can't brain, but it means the user (you or Steve) get to call the shots. You might want to be alone, you might want him to hold you until the sun rises, you might want to watch the cringiest romcoms or ugly cry reading your 'stories.' No questions.

Shawarma.

It came from an early moment once Steve was out of the ice. The whole battle was a disaster from start to finish. He was so overwhelmed, but so was the makeshift team. They all sat in silence. Ate. Didn't eat. Fell asleep sitting up. Fell asleep in their food. No one cared. That's the idea. He needs that sometimes, as he figures everyone does.

Whatever the other wants.

Unsurprisingly, this often winds up mutually beneficial. Sometimes being quiet for the other's sake lets both just breathe. He looks at you and can see your pain, your strain, your fatigue. Steve always ends up smiling, though, because he loves you. There's a type of beauty in your sadness--this gravitational pull to bring him closer, to let him in, to let him lift you back up--that makes him feel needed. This home is where he shields you from the world. On his worst days, he still gets to protect you, to do good, and to make you happy. That is all he's ever wanted in his whole life

Also sometimes shawarma sounds good for dinner, but if that's the case, it's specified. No one is surprised when the whole night is spent just caring for each other. The 'code' means you're starting at an ultra-low place that day or night, but with understanding and respect, you always balance back out.

And finally, a freebie for shiggles: Steve finds flatulence hysterical. Not all potty humor, not jokes in bad taste, but he just cannot keep it together if he or someone else farts. I'm sorry, he can't. It's too funny. The noises???? He's dying laughing.

The team at some point figures this out, and at a dinner at your home--a perfectly reputable affair with proper china and all--the group proceeded to fake (or not fake) fart noises. Steve almost peed himself. Tears of joy were streaming down his face. It was adorable.

See, he doesn't care that it happens; the human body is the human body is the human body. Obviously, he can be concerned if there's like a medical issue, and he's allowed to poke a little fun if your toots (or his) smell, but mostly...he just finds them hilarious.

That is the most childish thing about Steve Rogers, a holdover from a bygone era, and that's kinda the best part. After all he's been through, Steve has an inner child. He just needs to let it rip! 🤭😂

Thank you for asking!

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

[talaok]

The Pause

Pairing: Javier Peña x fem!reader

Summary: You and your colleague Javier Peña have never gotten along, but with just a simple proposition that started off as a joke, it turns out you do work well together in some areas.

Warnings: smut| fingering, oral sex (f receiving), squirting, protected p in v sex (ik me writing that they use a condom? Incredible), praising, size-kink, and reader is not shaved (bc lets be honest now yo girl is so over that) 

Pt. 2

A roll of the eyes and a loud enough huff... the usual warm greeting reserved for your colleague.

"Good morning to you too" he mocked, raising his head as you sat at the desk in front of him.

"had a rough night?" he continued, wanting nothing more than to see that look on your face when he poked you just enough.

"Well I had a great one" he informed you like you cared, as he lit a cigarette.

"I'm sure you did" you finally spoke "Which one was it tonight? My money’s on Vanessa, you have a sweet spot for her"

He let out a small chuckle, knowing he had gotten exactly what he wanted.

He would have never admitted it out loud, but he loved your daily banter, and even more, he loved your smart mouth.

"Is that Jealousy I hear?"

Now was your turn to laugh "You wish, Peña" you smirked, "the day I'll start being jealous of you and your special friends I'll have officially gone insane"

His eyes slowly analyzed your face, making you feel more uncomfortable than you liked to admit 

" I think it wouldn't hurt you, you know?"

"what?" you sighed, organizing some files somebody had left on your desk during the night.

"a good fuck"

Your eyes shot up to his, a mix of disappointment and annoyance firing out of them.

"Unlike you, I'm not really into paying for it" you tilted your head, watching his hazel eyes closely "and not that it's any of your business, but I'm fine in that department"

"How long has it been?" he asked, like he knew, like he knew he was annoyingly right.

It had been a dry month, hell, a dry year.

"why, are you offering?" you raised an eyebrow, not backing off.

"why... are you refusing?" he mirrored your expression, a smug grin tugging at his lips.

Your breathing slowed, and time stopped for an infinite instant, all the office's noises blurred in the background as wrong, wrong images filled your brain.

like the one where that same mouth draped around that cigarette crashed with your own... or the one where his big, strong hand wrapped around your neck as his breath fanned against your lips, or the one where...

"good morning"

A whimper left your mouth, and as quickly as you tried turning away from Javier, you didn't miss the smug smile growing on his lips, or the way his eyes searched every inch of your face.

Fuck

"Hi Steve" you cleared your throat, praying to whoever was listening that the crimson painting your cheeks would be blamed on the heat.

The blonde nodded at you with a genuine smile as you willed your breathing to even out.

"Messina said two of us gotta go check out something"

"something?" Peña asked

"Yeah apparently there's a guy that might be able to give us some information" Steve shrugged

He said two, didn't he?

The look on Javier's face certainly cleared out any doubts you might have had.

Oh no. no way in hell I'm spending the whole day with him after what happened not even a minute ago.

"I'll stay behind" you blurted out, earning a frown from Steve and an amused grin from Peña.

You weren't fooling him

You were never one to back down on these things. You wanted to go on the field as much as possible, and they both knew that.

"I just-" you muttered, trying to come up with a believable excuse "I have some things I need to finish up here anyway"

If Steve wasn't convinced, he didn't show it, but Javier on the other hand... Javier was looking at you like he could read every single thought crossing your mind.

"alright" Murphy sighed "Let's go then, Peña," he said, giving you a farewell nod before starting down the elevator

Javier lingered for a moment longer, bending much closer than he needed to as he put out his cigarette in the ashtray between your desks.

"Goodbye y/n" he spoke lowly "I'll be back"

and to anyone that would have sounded like a normal thing to say, but to you... to you, it sounded only like a threat.

__ __ __

Turns out you didn't need to lie, turns out that there actually was a lot of shit to do at the office.

The hotline had been buzzing all day, and being that you were the only dea agent available, most calls had to go through you, plus all the reports to go over and the forms to fill... you didn't even realize how much time had passed before Messina startled you as she walked out of her office.

"Goodnight agent" she called, making you glance up from your desk for the first time in the past two hours.

"goodnight" you called absentmindedly, as you took in the office... it was deserted, not one single soul at their desk.

What time is it?

You glanced at the clock hanging on the wall to your right

9:30 pm 

9:30 pm?

When the fuck did that happen?

the elevator dinged in the distance as your boss stepped into it.

You must be seeing things, because there's no way in hell... nope, the clock was still telling the same exact time.

"fuck" you exhaled into the empty room, running a hand down the length of your face.

Ok, it's definitely time to go home.

You glanced at the papers on your desk and divided them into two piles, one of them going into your drawer, and the other in Messina's office.

You sighed heavily as you got up, the old chair creaking under your weight.

The click of your heels against the tiles echoed off the walls as you made your way to the Messina's door.

She's not gonna be happy about how many papers she's gonna have to look over in the morning...

You turned the doorknob and the door emanated a soft shriek as you pushed it open.

You walked to the desk and just when you were about to drop those papers on it, a voice rumbled from beside you

"You waited"

You gasped, turning around immediately in shock

"Jesus Christ!" you breathed, realizing who it was "You scared me"

"I'm sorry sweetheart" Javier spoke softly

sweetheart? When did that happen? And when did my body get permission to react this way?

He was leaning on the doorframe, his arm crossed over his broad chest.

"what are you doing here?" you asked, retracting your hand from your hammering heart and finally setting the files on the desk.

"I told you I'd be back" he put simply "We never got to finish our talk this morning"

You swallowed what felt like sand in your mouth,

A part of you, a naive, stupid part of you, was hoping he would have already forgotten about that, but of course, it's Javier F. Peña we're talking about, and when it's about torturing you... you can be sure he'll never forget anything.

"what talk?" you lied through your teeth

maybe miracles are real, maybe he'll just let it go.

He didn't respond, he didn't need to, he saw right through you.

He smirked instead, uncrossing his arms and taking a step towards you.

Now your heart wasn't racing from the scare, this was all him.

You were the only people in the office, hell, the building probably, and he was right there in front of you, looking at you like he could see right through your clothes.

"You paused" he murmured, now towering over you

"What are you talking about?"

Fake it until you make it, right?

"You paused this morning"

You frowned, pretending not to know exactly what he was talking about “Listen Peña I gotta go home, so if you-“ you moved out of his way, starting towards the door, but before you could actually exit the room, his hand on your wrist stopped you, making you turn around

“Do you want me to fuck you, agent y/l/n?”

To say heat rushed to your face was an understatement

“What the fuck?” 

“Oh don’t look so surprised, I saw how you looked at me before” he cooed, wetting his lips 

“And how did I look at you?” you shook your arm out of his hold, just for him to get even closer to you, his body now inches away from your own

“Like you wanted me to say just that” he murmured “like you wanted me to bend you over your desk and take you right there in the middle of the office”

A breath got caught in your throat, and as much as you wanted to get out of his penetrating gaze, you couldn't do anything but stare at those endless wells of brown.

I don't know what to say, What the fuck could I say?

The same pleased grin was adorning his lips, and for a moment you pondered whether you wanted to smack or kiss it off of him.

"I don't know what you're talking about" you managed to say, praying you sounded more confident than you actually felt

"c'mon sweetheart" he chuckled "I know you want it" he breathed, ducking closer so he could whisper in your ear as he moved some hair out of your face "A good fuck wouldn't hurt you... you're always so tense"

He drawled out his words like spells

"You're confident for a man who needs to pay women to fuck them"

he smiled amusedly at that

"Is that a challenge?"

"most definitely not" You ignored the shiver running up your spine

he raised his head again so that he could look at you

"There's nothing to be ashamed of, y'know," he said "It would just be two friends helping each other out"

"since when are we friends?"

"fine then" he agreed "Two colleagues"

Was he being serious?

Did I fall asleep at my desk and this is just some fucked up lucid dream?

"c'mon baby" he persisted, his hands finding your waist "I can make you feel real good"

"Peña..." you breathed, trying to get your mind to collaborate and realize what a fucking mistake you were about to make

"yes, sweetheart?" the bastard asked, his voice dropping an octave.

You gulped, cursing yourself internally

There was no turning back, your mind was already made up... and he knew it too.

You glanced out the door.

No one was here,

No one would ever have to know about this.

"If I agree... we'll never speak of this again ok?" you stated "This never happened"

The widest grin you'd ever seen split his face

"You sure about that, baby?" he murmured, "that way..." he brought his right thumb to your mouth, slowly tracing its shape "How will you be able to beg me to do it again?" 

You snorted "please"

"Ok, how about this" he proposed then "I promise to never speak of it again, if after we're done... You can sincerely tell me that that wasn't the best sex of your life"

You laughed again, "fine"

"You can't lie" he reminded you, his mouth now ghosting yours

"I won't" you repeated "Now can you please just-"

"Gladly" he muttered, but before you had time to respond or think of any other rules to impose, his lips were already on yours, and his tongue had slipped into your mouth

He was...hungry

Both his hands wrapped around your waist and he picked you up like you weighed less than a feather.

The squeak you let out was muffled by his mouth, but you somehow managed to wrap your legs and arms around him in the haze.

his hands were on your ass, and the groan he let out didn't even try to hide just how much he liked them there.

You could feel his mustache, taste his cigarettes, and his scent was wrapped around you like a mantel, and god you hated admitting it but it felt good, he felt good

And you were so caught up in everything that your body was feeling for the first time in so long, that you didn't even realize he hadn't stayed still, but in fact, had walked you right in front of Messina's desk and was now sitting you on it.

Oh god

Why did it now just tick that you were in your boss' office?

"changed your mind yet?" 

Javier on the other hand, couldn't have cared less

"From just a kiss?" you teased, cocking an eyebrow

He snickered, parting your legs so he could fit in between them.

His mouth trailed away from yours until it found your ear "Well I am very talented with my mouth" he murmured, before biting your lobe.

You wouldn't have even realized you had moaned if it wasn't for that smug smirk on his face.

"Oh don't worry" he cooed, his mouth now lowering to kiss your neck "I'll show you in a minute"

His lips started a slow, torturous trail down your neck, each peck sending a ripple of warmth to your core, and when his teeth grazed your collarbones, then you couldn't do anything but whimper, as you threw your head back.

You couldn't see him, but you sure as hell could feel that smile on his lips.

Next was your blouse, he took his time gently undoing each button, reserving a kiss for every new inch of skin he uncovered, until the fabric wasn't doing anything to cover up your bra, and all he needed, and hence did, was to get rid of your shirt.

"fuck" he muttered mostly to himself, all his eagerness showing for a moment as he removed your black bra like his life was on the line "Where have you been hiding all this?"

"I haven't been hiding anything, and you know it" you scoffed "I catch you staring at least twice a day"

A soft chuckle fled his throat "Can you blame me?" he asked, his eyes focused on your body "I mean look at you" his hands traveled up your belly until they were cupping your tits "You belong in a museum"

And you knew he had probably said that same line to more girls than you could ever imagine, but the blush on your cheeks rose nonetheless.

But before you had time to lie and ask just how many those girls were, he had ducked and sucked your left nipple into his mouth.

"oh shit" you whispered, hypnotized by the image in front of you.

He caught you staring as he opened his eyes, and just when you were expecting a snarky comment, he only smirked before taking your other nipple into your mouth.

This time you closed your eyes as you moaned just to be safe.

He let go of your skin with a pop, making you whimper.

"Can I take off your skirt sweetheart?"

What is this, a joke?

"mh-mh" you hummed

"All the sudden you don't wanna talk?" he mocked "Use your words baby"

You had to fight the urge to roll your eyes 

"Yes, Javier, you can take off my skirt"

A smirk pulled at his lips

"Good girl"

If you were wet before, those two words had now rendered you completely drenched, and that look on his face told you he knew exactly what he was doing

His fingers quickly slipped under your skirt, and before you knew it, you were sitting in front of him in only a pair of black panties, and your work heels.

You were breathing as if you'd just run a marathon once he started peeling your panties off of you.

"wait" you suddenly remembered 

"What is it sweetheart?" he stopped

"I-" all the sudden you were embarrassed "I didn't shave"

he looked at you like you'd just told him to go fuck himself

"Baby girl, you're insulting me" he cooed, stoking your sides "You take me for a man who cares about that sort of thing?"

"Oh," you breathed "I just-"

"You got me all wrong sweetheart" he shook his head, slowly kneeling between your knees and gradually taking off your panties in the process.

"god, you're beautiful" he breathed, once you were entirely bare before him.

And again, red crept up your cheeks.

He picked one of your legs up and unhurriedly bent down to kiss you just above your ankle, and then your calves, and then your knee, and then all the way to your inner thigh, until you were screaming internally and your heart was beating faster than you thought humanly possible.

he took his time placing your foot on the chair next to him, so you were spread wide for him, and then did the same thing all over again to your other leg, only changing his routine when he placed your leg on his shoulder instead of the chair.

You were close to hyperventilating.

"Javier..."

"What sweetheart?" he teased, his lips now inches from where your body was begging him to be "You're already desperate?"

"You-You wish" you lied

He chuckled, and the vibrations of his voice went straight to your core, making you whimper

"no?" he taunted, kissing you even closer to your cunt

"no- just-" you swallowed

"what? Tell me what you want baby"

"You know what I want" you begged

"I do, but I wanna hear you say it" he murmured, kissing you just above your pussy "I want to hear you begging me to lick this pretty pussy of yours"

"That's not going to happen" you breathed

He grinned "You sure?" his lips lowered to kiss your clit

"fuck" you moaned with a thread of voice

"You sure you don't want me to?" he asked again, his lips now finding your hole "'cause that would be a damn shame..." he continued, the tip of his tongue now finding your core for just a second "You look fucking delicious baby"

"I-" you stuttered, shutting your eyes "Javier c'mon"

"I want to hear you say it, princess" he smirked, "What's the magic word?"

And fuck him, but you were desperate

"Please" you surrendered "Please Javier just-"

The rest of your sentence died in your throat as he finally dove down, taking your pussy into his mouth.

"Javi" you whimpered, clutching his head to your body with one hand and gripping the desk with the other.

You had never called him Javi a day in your life, but this seemed as good a time as any.

He sucked on your clit first, stretching it into his mouth and going back again and again making you squirm and desperate to come, before starting to devour every other inch of you, licking up and down and swirling his tongue over your nub, getting drunk on your taste.

"Shit- oh my fucking god" you panted, losing every bit of decency you had and grinding against him.

His mustache was tickling your skin, only making you want to moan louder.

Good thing you were the only people left in the office.

And just when you thought it couldn't get any better, two of his thick, long fingers plunged inside of you.

"Fuck-javi!" you screamed

he curled them inside you while he didn't even dream about stopping his work on your clit, and you couldn't do anything but arch your back as a series of obscenities left your mouth.

his other hand came up to palm your breasts and again, a shock of pleasure coursed through you as he added a third finger.

"Oh god- that's-" you moaned "Javi"

You didn't even know what to say, you just knew that you hadn't felt this good or full in far too much, if not ever.

Three fingers of his didn't even compare to the two of yours you had spent months using as some sort of relief.

"I love it when you say my name like that baby" he leaned away for just a moment to say, before resuming his work of art.

"f-fuck" you cried "Javi please"

"What is it sweetheart?" he asked, his fingers pushing in and out of you filling the room with an obscene sound.

You were soaked.

"Javi I think-" You felt your stomach start to shake as the orgasm was about to take hold but... but something wasn't right.

"fuck javi something's wrong I-" you moaned, 

You had never felt like this, it felt like... it felt like you were about to pee.

"I think I'm gonna-"

And before you had time to finish, he pitched your left nipple and a tsunami of pleasure washed you all the way to the shore as your vision went white.

You were sure your moans could be heard from outside of the building.

"Goddamit sweetheart" his deep voice brought you back to reality

You opened your eyes, and he was... he was glistening, and- and that wet spot on his shirt wasn't there before, was it?

"Did I-" Your eyes widened

 You...squirted? You didn't even know you were capable of something like that

"That was the hottest thing I've ever seen baby," he said, looking at you as if you'd just turned water to wine "Was this your first time?" 

"yeah" you nodded

A smile spread on his lips as he stood up again 

"You still sure you aren't gonna beg me to do that again?"

"God, I hate you" you breathed

"yeah? Enough to let me fuck you apparently" he murmured, before crashing his lips with yours, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

"Shut up" you mustered, before he kissed you once again.

You racked your hands down his chest, fumbling to undo his shirt's buttons.

thank god he didn't wear a tie today

Once his shirt was off with his help, you let your hands move down his body until they found the bulge in his tight jeans.

"fuck" he groaned, as you palmed him through the fabric.

His belt was even harder to take off.

"Eager sweetheart?" he cooed, undoing his belt for you, and while he was at it, unzipping his pants.

"Shut up"

He smirked that same smug smirk he seemed to have stapled to his lips "We'll see who'll be the one who won't be able to talk in a minute" 

"I'm not sucking your dick, Peña"

"That's not what I'm talking about baby" he murmured, getting rid of his pants and boxers at the same time.

Your gaze lowered and- oh shit

"fuck" you muttered, not even realizing you had

He chuckled, his chest raising with his voice "What? Too big for you?" he mocked, kissing your cheek before trailing his mouth to your ear "Don't worry, I'll go slow just for you, sweetheart"

Your mouth was still agape, but you were finally able to tear your glare from his member.

"Do you-" you swallowed "Do you have a condom?" you remembered.

In no time he materialized one from the pocket of the jeans pooling at his feet.

"Of course" you huffed out a laugh.

He didn't pay you any mind you as he rolled on the condom, and you watched the motion, mesmerized by... well, by how big he was.

He caught you red-handed, and his grin only widened.

"Open your legs for me sweetheart" he ordered, and something in his tone made you oblige immediately.

He positioned himself at your entrance, taking his dick in his hand and sliding it between your folds.

"fuck" you moaned softly, closing your eyes

"I want you to look at me" he stopped you, "You look at me when I'm inside you, baby"

You hesitated a moment before doing as told, looking into his lust-filled eyes.

"Good girl" he praised you, before finally entering you.

"Oh my god" you moaned at the stretch.

"That was just the tip sweetheart" he smirked, pushing himself even deeper.

Just the tip?

You looked to where your bodies were meeting and, to your dismay... he was right

How is that all gonna fit?

"It's gonna fit" he read your mind, retracting his hips just to thrust himself deeper "You're gonna take it all like a good girl y/n" he murmured against your mouth, as his fingers found your clit "and then when I'm done with you" he forced his cock into you again making you quite literally scream "you're gonna feel so sore you're gonna remember me every time you take a step"

And with that, he drove his whole dick into you, making you bite your own lip so hard you could almost taste blood.

"God you feel good" he groaned, starting to find a slow pace "so fucking tight for me sweetheart"

"fuckfuckfuckfuck" was all you could cry out into the air

it was so big

and so deep

"I know" he cooed, kissing your neck, before fastening his pace.

"Javi!" you screamed, one of your hands going to grip his shoulder to keep you anchored to this world.

It was nothing like anything you'd ever felt. You could feel him everywhere, taking hold of every single part of your being.

"Look at you" he murmured, kissing ur lips again, even if they were parted as you gasped for air "Taking it so well" he cooed, his fingers resuming their work on your clit "Being such a good girl for me" he continued, his breath fanning against your mouth "letting me use this pretty pussy of yours" he groaned, as you sucked him right in "drenching me with all your juices" he growled "so so good"

"javi please" you moaned

"do you even know what you're begging for?" he asked "Or are you so cock drunk that brain of yours has stopped working?"

"I-" You tried to come up with a comeback, but all you could do was whine and whine and then whine again.

 "fuck" was now his turn to moan "babygirl you feel so fucking good"

"Javi"

"Yes say my name sweetheart" he thrust into you more harshly now, more deeply even somehow "Scream it"

"Fuck-javi!"

"just like that" he nodded, looking you right in your eyes as he split you in fucking half "Just like that baby"

"Javi I'm-" you whimpered, not able to find the words

"You're coming sweetheart?" he found them for you "You gonna drench me again?" he asked mostly himself "No you need to have it licked to do that, don't you?" he realized "fuck I can't wait 'till you'll let me have a taste again"

"oh my god" you moaned, as pure ecstasy ran through your body "Fuck I'm-"

"come all over me baby" he urged, grunting with every one of his deep fucking thrusts "Be a good girl and come on my cock"

And that was all you needed, that's all you heard before you were screaming his name as loud as you could, letting him drill you into another earth-shattering orgasm.

"fuck" he groaned, just after you were done, "fuck-y/n" was all he could muster before he too, had the best orgasm of his life.

it took a moment before any of you got enough breath in your lungs to do anything but stare into each other's blown-out pupils.

"So?" he asked, not even bothering to pull out

Part of you was still wondering if this was a dream, and the fact you couldn't feel most of your body certainly didn't help

"You know" you rolled your eyes

He smirked "I do know, but I wanna hear you say it"

"Yes, alright?" you admitted

"Yes, what?"

fuck. me.

"Fine" you sighed "Yes, Javier, it was the best sex of my life"

And again, his grin only got wider "Good" he said "'cause it was mine too" he gave your lips another quick peck "and there's no way we're not doing it again"

Pt. 2

[harveysweakness]

A/N: Thank you for the request dear! Super fluffy you say? Super fluffy coming your way

“You don’t look so good,” Rachel greeted, meeting you as soon as you’d stepped out of the elevator at the firm.

“I’m fine,” you replied, voice getting raspier by the second.

“Really? Because you sound like that now at 8AM so I can’t imagine what you’ll sound li-“

“Did you get those files?” You sighed, walking toward your office significantly slower than normal.

“Yes, I did but-“

“Rachel, let it go, please.”

“Fine,” the woman beside you huffed.

“Thank you. Now, I need to go through the files and you need to head to Reiter’s.”

“You’re letting me do it?” Rachel asked, surprised.

“You’re ready, we’ll give you a shot.”

“Thank you!” She squealed, before returning the same way you’d come. You couldn’t help but smile- the woman was far too excited about her work as an associate.

Walking into your office, you nearly collapsed into your chair. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt like this- congested, head throbbing, cold and hot at the same time, and just plain weak. But, mind over matter, right?

You continued to work, going through the large pile of files Rachel had gathered, searching for the right answer that would win you your case. Every so often you’d get a text from Rachel, letting you know whatever meeting she’d been in had gone well. It made you happy, knowing she was this good and didn’t always need your help anymore.

You’d just sat back in your chair for one second for a break when Donna knocked on the door.

“You didn’t greet Harvey this morning,” she said suspiciously.

“Busy day, Donna. I’m sorry but he can wait.”

She gave you a pointed look. “Now I know why you didn’t see him and that is exactly why you need to, Y/N.”

“Donna,” you sighed, though you both knew you could be convinced with just a little more of a push from her.

“Up, come on, up,” she insisted, moving into your office towards you. You stood before she could get to you, a little wobbly on your feet.

“Just got up too fast,” you muttered before she could say anything. Donna just hummed, sticking close to your side while you walked the short distance down the hall to Harvey’s office.

“Someone needs to see you,” she announced in Harvey’s doorway.

“Hey, I didn’t see you this morning,” your boyfriend greeted a bit hesitantly. It was odd that he hadn’t seen you, and it was odd how Donna had brought you here.

“Sorry.”

He was out of his chair in an instant, moving to stand in front of you.

“You’re sick, aren’t you?”

You couldn’t tell if it was the attention or the fact that you had a growing fever, but you suddenly felt dizzy, going so far as to grip onto Harvey while you swayed.

He steadied you and helped you over to his couch.

“You have a fever,” he murmured aloud, the back of his hand pressed to your forehead.

“I don’t feel good,” you admitted quietly. He frowned, a concerned expression on his face.

“Let’s get you home.”

“I have work to do,” you whispered. He shook his head.

“Rachel can take care of it. Donna said you already had her handling most of it today. There’s nothing left for you to do besides go home and rest.” His hand reached for yours, squeezing it gently. You nodded, letting your walls crash down as you stopped trying to convince yourself that you were going to make it the rest of the day. The man next to you, pulled you into him, not missing the way your eyes fluttered shut from exhaustion.

“Donna,” Harvey called. “Call Ray. Tell Mike he’s going to handle the rest of the day.”

“Already done.”

“I love that woman,” you sighed sleepily, cuddling in closer to Harvey.

“Sweetheart, don’t fall asleep. We have to get you home first,” your boyfriend chuckled, though the worry was evident in his voice. You groaned, but picked your head up and moved to stand, Harvey’s hand stopping you.

“Stay here, I’m going to grab your things.” He stood, bending down to press a quick kiss to your temple before leaving the room.

‘Watch her, Donna,’ you heard him say.

You shut your eyes once more, leaning back against the couch. You shivered, wishing the material was a warm one instead of the cool black leather. Though you knew it was un-ladylike, you pulled your knees up and tucked your legs underneath you, trying to savor your body heat.

Harvey was back a minute later, setting your things down on the table. He moved to pack up his bag, an eye on you constantly.

"Y/N, I've got your coat."

You dragged yourself upright, slowly getting your legs out from underneath you and standing.

"We'll be home soon," he said quietly as he helped you slide your arms into your coat. You pulled it tight around you as Harvey wound his arms around you and gave you a squeeze. You nodded, pulling away to grab your bag. Your boyfriend quickly moved around you and grabbed your bag before you could.

"I'm not helpless," you meekly retorted.

"I know, but you've got something else to hold."

Just then, Donna made her way into the office, a to-go cup in her hands.

"Tea for the ride," she said, giving a sympathetic smile as you took the warm cup.

"Thank you, Donna."

"Feel better."

"Ready?" Harvey asked. You nodded, taking the arm he offered.

---------

Five minutes into the ride your eyes were fluttering shut. Harvey took the tea out of your hands without a word. He had to gently shake you awake when you arrived.

You let Harvey help you out of the car and you tilted your head, confused.

"This isn't my apartment building."

Your boyfriend chuckled, grabbing all of the bags. "It's mine." He pressed a kiss to your temple before guiding you towards the entrance.

"You took me to your apartment?"

"We aren't walking into Mike's, if that's what you're worried about."

You couldn't help but laugh, which quickly turned into a small coughing fit.

"Let's get you inside," Harvey murmured once you were finished.

-------

An hour later, you were settled in Harvey's bed, a mountain of blankets piled on top for you. He'd gone above and beyond, ordering soup, medicine, teas, and anything else he thought you would like, including a fresh bouquet of roses. He'd set tissues and a trash can next to the bed and he'd joined you in bed the second he'd made sure you had everything.

You cuddled into him, before sitting up for a second and looking at him.

"What?"

"Thank you," you said sincerely.

"You're welcome. Now come here."

You settled yourself in his arms again, eyes closing the second your face laid against his chest.

[darkbluekies]

Let's say darling got a phone and had tiktok, how would the yanderes react if darling did the 'can you babysit my boyfriend/girlfriend?' Trend? :)

Lol i usually don't have the ideas to make these types of sillier reactions, but funnily enough I did yoday. I am not familiar with the trend and i couldn't find anything when searching so i'm guessing it is the "can you watch my boyfriend while I * do something*"

Warnings: mentions of pulling nails out with pliers

This is the first time exploring MODERN Edmund, so I don't know much about him yet, please excuse that

Silas:

He would probably be sitting by his desk, working. When you plop down the phone in front of him with the front camera pointing towards him, he would frown and look at you with an intense jealousy.

"Who are you filming this for? Who are watching your videos? Y/N? Get back here and tell me what the hell you are posting online and what kind of creeps are watching my wife/husband!"

Dr Kry:

He's sitting by his desk in his home office and filing some paperwork. He frowns in confusion and looks at you as you walk out. He turns off the recording in an instant.

"You have to excuse me, darling, but I don't want to be the punchline in your joke."

(Modern) King Edmund:

He has taken you on his private yacht to get away from all the cameras and attention directed onto you both — you especially, for some reason. You put your phone down in front of him as he takes in the sun on deck and walk away.

"What the fuck? Where did you get a phone from? Whoever gave it to you is dead."

Jerry:

She's eating a hamburger bigger than her face, trying her best not to spill too much sauce on herself. When you've placed the phone down in front of her and said to your "audience" to babysit her, she scoffs.

"What the fuck? Of course you had to do it when I have sauce all over my fucking face. Oh, now that we're here I can take the opportunity to make sure that you're not contacting anyone. If I find anything i don't like, babe, I'm pulling your nails out with pliers."

Hedwig:

She's putting on makeup in her bathroom as you come to put the phone by her and walk away. She looks after you, pouting, thinking that you had wanted to come in to hug her. She will take the phone and feel her heart sink. Since when did you have a following? Who are watching you?

"Y/N ... who are following you on this account? It's not many ... right? Can't we have a couples account? That way we can see what the other is ... doing. And people will know that we are together!"

[koyagifs]

𝓭𝓲𝓮 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓪 𝓼𝓶𝓲𝓵𝓮

pairing: yeosang x reader x seonghwa au: werewolf | non idol | genre: angst word count: 3.8 k synopsis: everyone thought you had it easy, the alpha's daughter, bound to be mated to another alpha. If only they knew your mate was with another. warning(s): - merry christmas eve everyone ~

" i'm so sorry yn - but we can't. I mean - Harin is pregnant,"

Yeosang's words echoed in your mind, haunting you in quiet moments when the world slowed down. Harin is pregnant. The phrase carried weight, crushing the hope you'd once held for a future with him. You had poured your soul into that bond, only for it to splinter in an instant.

Even when he searched for you—his scent lingering in the air like a bittersweet memory—you kept your distance. He didn't deserve to see the pain he had caused reflected in your eyes.

Now, as you prepare to take over your father's role in the pack, the shift in your focus feels like salvation. The burden of leadership is heavy, but it keeps your mind from straying to the ache in your chest. Your pack needs you strong and unwavering, not caught in the pull of a love that could never be.

Gratefulness fills you as you pour yourself into your duties. The training sessions, council meetings, and scouting runs leave little room for sorrow. Each decision you make for the pack reinforces your resolve. They are your family, your responsibility, and the anchor you desperately need.

You sat at your desk, the stack of paperwork before you doing little to ease the weight on your shoulders. The reports from neighboring territories, requests for resources, and the endless lists of pack concerns blurred together, scattering your thoughts like leaves in the wind. You pressed a hand to your temple, closing your eyes briefly to gather yourself.

The sudden knock at the door made you jolt, a soft gasp escaping before you could stop it. Straightening your posture, you called out, "Come in!"

The door creaked open, and the familiar scent hit you before you even turned to look. Your wolf stirred instantly, its excitement thrumming through your veins as your beta stepped into the room.

"Beta Seonghwa," you greeted, masking the small smile tugging at your lips. The title felt formal, but it was necessary with how you needed to maintain composure, especially in moments like this. Your wolf, however, had no such qualms, howling with unrestrained joy at the presence of one of your closest confidants.

Seonghwa’s sharp eyes scanned the room briefly before they settled on you. He looked as calm and composed as always, but the slight quirk of his lips gave him away. "You look like you’ve been drowning in paperwork again."

You rolled your eyes, leaning back in your chair. "That’s because I am. Do you know how many pack disputes I’ve had to settle this week? And don’t get me started on the border patrol reports."

Seonghwa chuckled, the sound light and comforting. "It comes with the territory, Alpha. But maybe you should take a break. Even the strongest wolves need to catch their breath."

The teasing glint in his eyes made your wolf perk up even more, and for a fleeting moment, the stress seemed to ease.

"Don’t tempt me," you said with a soft laugh.

Seonghwa’s gaze softened, his presence steady and grounding in a way that reminded you why he was your beta. He moved closer, placing a small stack of files on your desk. "I thought I’d take some of the load off your plate. Patrol reports and council updates—sorted and summarized. No need to thank me," he said with a sly smile.

Your wolf rumbled with approval, tail practically wagging in your mind at his attentiveness. You leaned back in your chair, crossing your arms as you gave him an amused look. "Is this your way of bribing me into taking a break?"

"Bribing? No," Seonghwa replied, feigning innocence. "Strategic delegation, maybe. I know you won’t rest unless someone gives you a reason to."

You shook your head, a chuckle slipping past your lips. "You know me too well."

"I’d like to think so," he said softly, the humor in his expression dimming just enough to let something more genuine shine through. "You carry a lot, Alpha. More than anyone realizes. Letting someone shoulder a bit of it doesn’t make you weak."

His words struck a chord, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to let the weight of his sentiment settle. It wasn’t often someone reminded you that strength didn’t always mean going it alone.

"Thanks, Seonghwa," you murmured, your voice quieter now. "Really."

Seonghwa hummed softly, his eyes still fixed on you. "Y/N..."

The way he spoke your name made something in you falter. Even though you were the Alpha, the authority in his tone sent a ripple of unease through you, your wolf pacing anxiously within.

You gulped, straightening your posture as if to reassert control. "You're not here to help, are you?"

He shook his head, his expression unreadable, as his fingers sifted through the pile of files in his hand. He lingered on one, pulling it free and placing it on your desk with a deliberate motion.

"I thought it’d be better to tell you in person," he said, his voice calm but carrying an edge that made your wolf’s ears perk.

Your eyes dropped to the folder, the pack emblem embossed on the cover. Slowly, you reached for it, but Seonghwa’s voice stopped you.

"Before you open it," he said, meeting your gaze, "I need you to promise me something."

Your brow furrowed, your instincts immediately on high alert. "What is it?"

"Don’t act on impulse." His voice was firm now, his beta tone fully taking over.

You clicked your tongue in irritation. "Tsk, I would not—"

Seonghwa’s sharp, knowing look stopped you mid-sentence. He raised an eyebrow, and you felt your resolve falter. Letting out a sigh, you leaned back in your chair, pinching the bridge of your nose.

"Fine," you muttered. "What is it?"

Seonghwa hesitated for a moment, as though weighing his next words carefully. Then he placed the folder fully in front of you, his expression unreadable. "It’s Yeosang," he said, his voice even but tinged with something you couldn’t quite place.

Your heart skipped a beat, but you managed to keep your face neutral, though your wolf stirred restlessly. "What about him?"

Seonghwa’s jaw tightened before he continued. "He’s requested a pack transfer."

The words hit you like a slap, the air rushing from your lungs as though you’d been struck. Your wolf stilled for a moment, stunned, before growling low in your chest, a mix of confusion and anger.

"A transfer," you repeated flatly, the word tasting foreign on your tongue.

Seonghwa nodded, his gaze steady on you. "He submitted the request through the southern pack’s Alpha. It came in this morning."

You sat there in stunned silence, your mind racing. After everything—after the heartbreak, the silence, the distance—Yeosang wanted to leave the pack entirely?

"Did he give a reason?" you finally asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Seonghwa hesitated, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his face. "He didn’t include much detail, but... he said it was to 'start fresh.' To sever old ties."

Your wolf growled again, louder this time, the sound reverberating in your chest. "Sever old ties," you repeated, your voice hardening. "Is that what we are to him now? Just... ties to be severed?"

Seonghwa didn’t respond immediately, letting you process the storm brewing inside you. He finally said, "Y/N, you need to think this through. If you deny the transfer, it could escalate tensions. But if you approve it..."

You stared at him, the unspoken weight of his words hanging between you. If you approved it, you’d be letting him go—for good. You grabbed the file, reading the transfers notes before you reached for your pen.

You grabbed the file, your hands steady despite the turmoil swirling in your chest. The transfer notes were brief, devoid of the warmth or sincerity you once knew from him. Your eyes lingered on the words "to start fresh" before you reached for your pen.

"Y/N—" Seonghwa’s voice broke the silence, firm yet laced with concern.

You didn’t look up, the tip of the pen hovering over the signature line. "I know what I’m doing," you said, your tone sharper than intended.

Seonghwa stepped closer, his presence grounding, though you felt his hesitation. "Do you?" he asked quietly, his words careful but probing.

You forced a smile, though it felt brittle even to you. "He’s moved on, Seonghwa. And so have I." The words hung in the air, sounding hollow in the stillness of the room.

Your wolf stirred uncomfortably, a faint whine echoing in your mind, but you ignored it, pushing aside the ache clawing at your chest. You signed your name with a flourish, sealing the decision.

"There," you said, setting the pen down with finality. "It’s done."

Seonghwa didn’t respond immediately, his gaze heavy as it lingered on you. You could feel his unspoken words, the questions he wanted to ask but wouldn’t dare voice. Finally, he nodded, though the tension in his shoulders remained.

"Very well," he said, his voice quieter now. "I’ll ensure the transfer is processed."

You nodded curtly, not trusting yourself to say anything more.

As Seonghwa reached for the file, his fingers brushed yours briefly, and the contact sent a jolt through you. He paused, his dark eyes searching yours. "Y/N," he said softly, "letting go doesn’t mean you have to carry it alone."

You pulled your hand back, crossing your arms as a shield. "I’m fine, Seonghwa," you replied, though the crack in your voice betrayed you.

He studied you for a moment longer before stepping back. "I’ll leave you to it, then," he said, his tone neutral but his expression far from indifferent.

When the door closed behind him, the silence returned, louder than ever. You leaned back in your chair, staring at the folder now absent from your desk, as if its removal had left an invisible mark.

You leaned back in your chair, head tilting toward the ceiling as you tried to hold it together. But the dam inside you had already begun to crack. Tears welled in your eyes, slipping down your cheeks before you could stop them.

You squeezed your eyes shut, as if that could block out the pain, but it only made it worse. Images of him flashed behind your eyelids: the way he used to smile at you, his laughter filling the air, the warmth of his presence that once felt like home.

Your breathing hitched, uneven and shallow as you fought to suppress the sobs building in your chest. "Get it together," you whispered to yourself, though your voice trembled, breaking apart like a fragile thread.

But it was no use. The weight of everything—the transfer, his words, the memories—crushed you all at once. A broken sob escaped your lips, and then another, until you were crying uncontrollably.

You buried your face in your hands, your shoulders shaking with the force of your grief. The wolf within you howled, mourning a bond that had been severed beyond repair.

~

You clasped hands with your old pack member, offering her a warm smile despite the lingering heaviness in your chest. "Congratulations," you said sincerely, your voice steady. "Finding your mate is a blessing, and I couldn’t be happier for you."

Her cheeks flushed as she smiled back, her new mate standing proudly by her side. "Thank you, Alpha," she replied, her voice filled with gratitude. "I’ll miss being part of this pack, but I know this is where I’m meant to be."

You nodded, squeezing her hand gently before letting go. "You’ll always have a home here, no matter what."

The words felt familiar, almost rehearsed—you’d said them before to others leaving the pack for similar reasons. But this time, they carried an odd weight, one that made your wolf stir uneasily.

As the couple turned to leave, Seonghwa’s presence behind you became more apparent, his quiet support a constant. His scent, steady and grounding, gave you something to anchor yourself to as you watched them go.

His scent, steady and grounding, gave you something to anchor yourself to as you watched them go.

"Ah, Alpha Y/N. Beta Seonghwa."

The voice froze you in place. Your wolf tensed, letting out a soft, mournful whine as your body stiffened. Slowly, you turned around, your breath catching when your gaze landed on him.

Yeosang.

And beside him, his mate. Her hand rested lightly on his arm, her smile polite but distant. In her other arm, she cradled a small child—a toddler, their bright eyes and soft features a perfect blend of the two standing before you.

Your wolf howled in agony, clawing at your chest, but you held your composure, every ounce of your strength poured into maintaining your Alpha façade.

"Yeosang," you greeted, your voice calm and even, though it felt like shards of glass cutting through your throat. Your eyes flickered briefly to his mate and the child, then back to him.

"Sad to see you go, as well as your family," you said, the words carrying a bittersweet weight that you disguised beneath a professional tone.

Yeosang stiffened slightly, his jaw tightening at your choice of words. His mate offered a polite smile, though the subtle tension in her shoulders didn’t go unnoticed. The child in her arms squirmed again, letting out a soft babble that made your wolf whimper.

"Thank you," Yeosang replied, his voice formal yet cautious, as if walking a tightrope. "It wasn’t an easy decision, but it was the right one for us."

For us. The words echoed in your mind, cutting deeper than you anticipated. You swallowed the lump in your throat, keeping your expression neutral as your wolf clawed at your resolve, begging to lash out or flee.

"I hope your new pack welcomes you warmly," you said, folding your hands behind your back to keep them from trembling. "And that you find everything you’re looking for."

There was a beat of silence, heavy and awkward, before Yeosang’s mate stepped forward slightly. "The Alpha has been gracious," she said, her tone smooth but firm. "We’re grateful for your blessing."

You nodded, your eyes briefly meeting hers. "It’s what’s best for everyone." The words felt hollow, but you forced them out anyway.

Seonghwa, sensing the tension, shifted slightly closer to you, his steady presence a shield. His sharp eyes assessed the situation, his body language relaxed yet ready, as though anticipating the need to step in.

"You’re always welcome on pack grounds," you said, your voice steady but devoid of warmth. The words came easily, like a practiced response, but they felt foreign coming out of your mouth.

As Yeosang stood there, the faintest flicker of something like regret flashed in his eyes, but before he could say anything more, Harin leaned in close, whispering something into his ear.

You felt a tightening in your chest as her voice, soft and intimate, broke the fragile tension. The sound was enough to make your wolf whine quietly, a mix of jealousy and pain stirring deep inside.

Yeosang stiffened slightly, his gaze darting toward his mate. She gave him a look, something almost apologetic but resolute, before slowly stepping away. Yeosang remained behind, his face etched with emotion, and you could feel the weight of the unsaid words hanging in the air between you.

"Y/N, look, I’m sorry," Yeosang said, his voice low, hesitant. He took a step forward, though he didn’t quite close the distance between you.

The rawness in his voice caught you off guard, and for a moment, it felt as though everything was slipping out of your control again. You clenched your fists at your sides, refusing to let the flood of emotions overpower you.

"I didn’t mean for it to end like this," Yeosang continued, his eyes searching yours as if hoping to find some understanding. "I never wanted to hurt you, not really."

You swallowed hard, the words getting stuck in your throat. You knew he was trying to explain, but it didn’t make the reality any easier. It didn’t undo the decision he made, the bond that had unraveled between you two.

"You don’t have to explain," you said, your voice soft but firm, a little colder now. "You’ve made your choice, Yeosang. And so have I."

His face fell, the guilt clearly visible as he reached out, his hand hovering in the air like he was unsure whether to close the distance. The hurt in his eyes matched the ache in your chest, but you couldn’t allow yourself to falter.

"You’ve moved on," you continued, the words tasting like ash in your mouth, but they had to be said. "And so have I. It’s done."

Yeosang looked at you, his brow furrowing in confusion. "You have?"

You nodded, your gaze unwavering, though the rawness in your chest threatened to spill over. "I have. Doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt, but seriously, I meant what I said, Yeosang. You and your family will always be welcome back whenever."

The words felt like a double-edged sword, cutting deep but necessary, a way to acknowledge the reality of the situation without fully breaking down.

Yeosang’s confusion shifted into something else—perhaps disbelief, perhaps regret—but whatever it was, it made your heart tighten. He seemed to want to say something more, but the silence stretched between you two, heavy and thick.

"You’ve moved on so easily, Y/N?" His voice trembled slightly, and for a brief moment, he looked like the man you once knew. The one who used to be everything to you.

You scoffed, shaking your head, the bitterness rising in your chest. "I am not doing this with you, Kang," you snapped, the weight of his words pushing you to the edge. The last thing you wanted was to revisit old wounds you’d worked so hard to bury. "Seonghwa, please."

Seonghwa, ever observant, immediately stepped forward, his presence like a shield between you and Yeosang. "That’s enough, Yeosang," he said firmly, his voice calm but authoritative, knowing just how to keep the peace without allowing anyone to cross the line. "You’ve said your piece. Y/N has made it clear."

Yeosang seemed to hesitate, his eyes flickering from Seonghwa to you, a mixture of pain and frustration clouding his features. That’s when Yeosang noticed the marking on your neck, and then Seonghwa’s. His gaze hardened, his anger flaring as the realization hit him.

"You fucking—" Yeosang’s words caught in his throat, his voice trembling with a mix of disbelief and fury. His eyes locked on the marks, the ones that now tied you and Seonghwa together in a way that couldn’t be undone.

Seonghwa’s reaction was immediate, the growl low and threatening, a deep rumble that vibrated in the air between you and Yeosang. The ferocity in Seonghwa’s voice cut through the tension like a knife, his protective instinct flaring to life. "Don’t," he warned, his tone sharp as his eyes narrowed on Yeosang.

You could feel Seonghwa’s presence behind you, a solid wall of strength that shielded you from Yeosang’s volatile emotions. Your wolf stirred, a growl of its own rising in your chest, mirroring the protectiveness you felt.

Yeosang stepped forward, fists clenched at his sides, as if trying to decide whether to confront Seonghwa or say something else. "This is what it’s come to?" he spat, his eyes flashing with raw emotion. "You’ve marked her? After everything?"

You turned to face him, your expression hardening. "You have no right to question me, Yeosang," you said coldly, your voice cutting through the tension. "You made your choices. This is mine."

The words hung in the air, heavy and final. Yeosang seemed to recoil at your tone, the anger fading just slightly, replaced by something deeper—regret, perhaps, or pain. But it was too late for that now.

Seonghwa stepped closer, his hand still firmly placed on your shoulder as he positioned himself between you and Yeosang. "We’re not doing this," he said firmly, his voice unwavering. "You don’t get to come here and question our bond. It’s done."

Yeosang’s chest rose and fell with a deep breath, his emotions swirling beneath the surface, but he didn’t push further. Instead, he ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in the tension of his posture. "I never thought it would end like this," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else.

You looked at him one last time, the pain of the past bleeding into the present. "It’s over, Yeosang. You’ve chosen your path, and I’ve chosen mine."

The finality in your voice settled the matter. Yeosang’s lips parted, as if he wanted to say more, but nothing came out. With a last glance at you and Seonghwa, he finally turned and walked away, his family in tow.

As they disappeared from view, the silence between you and Seonghwa felt different—heavier, but somehow also more secure.

"You didn’t have to say all that," Seonghwa said quietly, his hand giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "But I understand why you did."

You exhaled slowly, your chest still tight, but you didn’t break down. You couldn’t. Not now. "I meant it," you said softly, your voice quiet but firm, as though you were trying to convince yourself as much as anyone else.

Turning to Seonghwa, you couldn’t help it. You shoved your face into his chest, seeking the comfort and grounding you desperately needed. The softness of his shirt against your skin was a small but welcomed relief. As you inhaled his scent, the familiar warmth and steady presence of him filled your senses, your wolf purring in contentment as it finally began to ease.

Seonghwa’s arms wrapped around you instantly, holding you close as you pressed into him, your heart slowing with every deep breath. "You don’t have to carry all of this on your own," he murmured, his voice low and soothing, as he gently ran his fingers through your hair.

You didn’t say anything in response, just letting the weight of his words settle in. For a brief moment, you allowed yourself to feel vulnerable, to let go of the defenses you had built up over time. With Seonghwa, you didn’t need to be the Alpha, the leader, or the person who had to hold everything together.

You were allowed to simply be.

His hand stroked your back, the touch gentle but strong, grounding you further in the moment. "I’ve got you," Seonghwa whispered. "Always."

The words were simple, but they were exactly what you needed to hear. They wrapped around your heart like a promise, and for the first time since everything had gone sideways with Yeosang, you let yourself feel that fleeting sense of peace.

Your wolf settled completely, the storm within you quieting as you stayed in Seonghwa’s arms. For now, that was enough.

[haberai]

TUBİDY (4)

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[janeyseymour]

Save Me Before I Lose Myself- part 4

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.

Summary: Millie is exhausted. Melissa thinks she understands. Carrie is... different.

WC: ~2.55k

When you show up to work (on time for the second day in a row), you immediately hate the fact that you sit at a cubicle for most of the day. You end up standing almost the entire shift, and your feet hate you by the end of it.

At Abbott, Millie continues to stay quiet, resigned. It’s a far cry from the usually upbeat and happy-go-lucky kid that Melissa usually sees. The redhead swears she almost sees bags under the seven year old’s eyes. She looks exhausted- truly and utterly exhausted.

“Millie?” the teacher calls for your little girl during their snack time. “Can you come here for a second?”

Your little girl obeys, and she practically drags herself to the teacher’s desk. “Yes, Miss Schemmenti?”

“I’ve just noticed that you’re a kinda acting different today,” Melissa notes quietly. “I wanted to make sure everything is alright, and that you’re okay.”

Millie just nods quietly. 

“If you have anything you’d like to talk with me about, you know Miss Schemmenti is always here to lend an ear.”

Your daughter nods silently again. Then, in perhaps the quietest voice, she admits, “Sleepy.”

“Did you not get good sleep last night?”

Millie shakes her head, and her blue eyes sparkle as tears begin to cloud them. “I’m so tired,” she whines.

“Oh, hun.” The more maternal side of the childless redheaded teacher comes out, and she wraps her arms gently around her student. “I’m sorry.”

The seven year old clings to her teacher much like she clings to you, looking for any warmth and comfort anybody can provide. Her tears hit leather with soft thuds.

“Why don’t you just go lay your head down for a few minutes?” Melissa offers. “Close your eyes and relax?”

Your daughter bites her lip nervously. She’s not sure what she’s supposed to say. “But we’re at school.”

“An’ I can’t have a sleepy Mills, now can I?” the teacher teases softly. “C’mon, it’ll be okay. You won’t be in any trouble.”

The little blonde searches for any hints of ingenuity from her educator. Then, she gives the tiniest nod and slinks back to her desk. Before her head even hits the desk, it’s like she’s asleep, exhaustion finally taking over.

Melissa is in the middle of her math lesson when it hits her. She stops in her tracks, marker halfway raised to the board to write the answer to one of the problems on the whiteboard. 

What you said makes full sense to her. Please stop helping me, because it’s only hurting me. While she thought she was helping by slipping you that note to show her support, it was actually a hindrance to you. It made your life so much harder, knowing that she knew exactly what was going on. She had acknowledged what you have been so clearly trying to ignore- put aside for the well-being of your daughter. It makes all of it real for you, and in that instant, she wishes she could take it all back. If she had known that it was only going to hurt your heart, she would have simply dropped the matter of the subject and simply supported you in silence. Or at least, that’s what she thinks you meant- she has no idea the pain her sticky note caused you.

When lunch time comes, the second grade class lines up to make their way down to the cafeteria- all except for one child: Millie, who is still sound asleep at her desk.

Melissa stands at her door as she waits for Janine to begin filing her own class down the hall.

“Pipsqueak,” the redhead calls to her coworker. “Can my class just tag on at the end of your line? I got a student still in the room, an’ I can’t leave ‘er by herself.”

Janine looks slightly confused, but nods with a bright smile. “Of course! The more, the merrier!”

“Yeah, kid. Would ya mind havin’ Barb stop down here with my lunch too? I don’t think I’m gettin’ away from this one any time soon.”

Brows furrow, and there’s the silent question of if everything is okay. Melissa can only nod before the shorter teacher nods again. “Sure thing.”

It’s a few minutes later that Barbara appears in the doorframe of the second grade teacher’s classroom, two lunches in hand. Her eyes immediately set on Millie asleep at her desk. Her brows raise in concern.

“Asleep since snack,” Melissa says quietly. She’s sitting at her desk staring straight ahead. Her eyes don’t even meet Barbara’s.

“And you let her sleep? You never let students sleep in your class.”

“What was I supposed to do, Barb? The poor girl came in silently today, which you and I both know is not normal for her. She told me the other day she hears her mothers up late at night, and she was so tired she started crying,” the redhead sighs. She puts her head in her hands. “God, Barb. This is awful. That poor little girl should not be living like this. And neither should her mother.”

“No,” the kindergarten teacher says softly as she makes her way into the classroom. She sets Melissa’s lunch on her desk. “But you and I both know that Y/N does everything she can to keep Millie safe- she’s well-fed, clean, and loved by at least Y/N. So, we can’t step in.”

“I didn’t,” the redhead mutters. “All I did was slip her a note yesterday telling her I was here for her when she’s ready, and this morning she came in limping and begged me to stop trying to help her.”

“So you stop.”

“I- I don’t know if I can,” Melissa admits. “I- How am I supposed to stop trying to help her when I know what it’s like to be in her situation, albeit mine was not nearly as severe?”

“I know it’s hard, but you have to respect her-”

“She told me that my trying to help her only hurts her,” the second grade teacher mutters. “I- I caused her hurt, when all I was trying to do was help.”

“Melissa, I think you need to take a step back from all of this. Yes, what’s so clearly happening to her is a terrible thing that no human should ever have to endure, but she very deliberately asked you to stop. So, you need to stop and just take care of Millie to the best of your abilities while she’s in your care at school.”

Melissa takes a deep breath and lifts her head from her hands. “You’re right.”

“When are you going to realize I always am?” Barbara teases her. “Eat, Melissa. I’ll bring down a lunch for Millie for when she wakes up too.”

“Thank you.”

Millie ends up sleeping through the entire day, and even when Melissa knows she should wake her, she can’t find it in her to. She has Janine take her kids out for dismissal with the instruction that if you’re outside to come down to your classroom if possible. 

You’re standing there, and you see some of your daughter’s classmates running towards their own parents, but there is no Melissa, and certainly no Millie. You internally begin to panic. What had Millie told her teacher that has the both of them not out here?

Miss Teagues makes her way over to you. “Hey. Melissa told me to have you head down to her classroom if I saw you.”

“Is my daughter okay?” you ask quickly, already limping your way to the front door. You don’t even wait for a response before you’re in the door. You make your way in as quickly as you possibly can- your body still aches. It takes you far too long to get down to the classroom.

“Miss Schemmenti?”

“Hey,” the redhead sighs softly. She points over at your daughter.

“She’s sleeping?” you raise a brow as you lean against the doorframe gently.

Melissa nods. “Has been since snack at ten.”

“Thank you for letting her get the rest she needs,” you say quietly. “Last night was… rough.”

The teacher nods. You can see that she wants to pry. She wants to question your statement. But she doesn’t.

You slowly make your way over to your daughter and squat down in front of her. Shaking her shoulder gently, you press a soft kiss to the cheek that isn’t laying against her arms. “Baby.”

She stays asleep. And on another day, you’re sure you would just carry her home despite the fact that your arms would be sore, and she’s getting too big for you to hold for long amounts of time. But today, you know it’s not even a plausible thought.

“Honey,” you shake her a bit more. “Sweet girl, it’s the end of the school day.”

“I don’t wanna go home, Miss Schemmenti,” Millie grumbles, eyes not even opening. “I wanna stay here.”

You frown, as does the redhead sitting at her desk. “Sweetheart, it’s Momma. Wake up for me please.”

She cracks one eye open. “Momma?”

“Yeah, baby. It’s Momma.”

“Carry me?”

“You know I would, but I can’t today,” you sigh. “Not after…” you trail off. You know Melissa is listening intently.

“Okay,” your daughter sighs softly as she picks her head up from her desk. She rubs her eyes sleepily.

“Have a good night,” the teacher tells the two of you softly as you make for the door.

You give her what you hope is a smile. “You too, Miss Schemmenti.”

Millie just waves sleepily.

When you get home, you expect your wife to be sitting in her place at the table like she always is. You expect her to be typically quickly and with fervor, as she usually does. But she isn’t. She’s actually standing by the door with a smile soon her face.

“Hey, baby,” Carrie says sweetly. She pulls you in for a kiss that isn’t too dissimilar from the way she used to kiss you when you were dating and newlyweds.

“Hi, hun,” you sigh softly.

“How was your day?”

“It was alright,” you lie. Your body is exhausted, your mind is exhausted, and you really don’t feel like doing anything today. “I’ll start on dinner now.”

“There’s no need to do that,” your wife tells you. She bends down and opens her arms to Millie.

“Hi,” Millie yawns out, but she doesn’t make a move for the woman she looks so much like.

“Sleepy today, little girl?” Carrie asks as she takes matters into her own hands and wraps her arms around your daughter.

“Mhmm.” She allows her mother to hold her for a few seconds before detaching herself from the woman. It’s quite clear to you that your daughter is not comfortable with this. She immediately clings to you again.

You head for the kitchen, but you see that dinner is already in the oven upon walking into the room.

“You’re making dinner?” you furrow your brow.

She nods and gives a shy smile. Carrie reaches for something on the dry sink and hands you a beautiful bouquet of flowers. “These are for you, love.”

You take them gently and look at them in awe. They truly are beautiful. And they smell absolutely delightful.

“Why don’t you go take a load off and relax with Millie on the couch while I finish dinner and set the table?”

“R-really?” you squeak out. The last time that she had done this, it was before everything had really gotten bad. The last time she had done this, she hadn’t hit you yet, but the fight that had taken place the night before had gotten out of hand. “Yeah, hun,” Carrie kisses you again sweetly. She bends down and ruffles Millie’s now lopsided pigtails and kisses her hairline.

Dinner is splendid- absolutely delicious. And when you expect your wife to head up the steps to change to go out for dinner, she doesn’t. She actually stays in the dining room to clean up, does the dishes, and sits next to you on the couch as Millie curls up in your lap. Her long fingers trace patterns on your thigh like she used to- and not in a sexual way, just a way of letting you know she’s there.

When it’s time to put your daughter to bed, you don’t think you’ve ever seen Carrie so maternal. She reads the bedtime story with you, making sure to use silly voices and sing when it calls for it. She tucks your daughter in, kisses her forehead, and promises her that she’ll get great sleep tonight. Millie looks nervous, but not as nervous as she was walking into the house this afternoon.

When you’re alone with your wife, fear begins to seep into your bones. She was nothing short of a dream this afternoon and this evening, but that was in front of your little girl. Now, everything is being closed doors again.

But tonight, there is no hurt. There’s just short, sweet kisses. No hands roam where they aren’t wanted. Soft affirmations of love are whispered into the crook of your neck. She even apologizes for her actions last night. She promises you that she’ll back off on the drinking, she’ll be around more often for Millie, and that nothing like what took place last night will happen again.

You forgive her. Of course you do. You always forgive her. A small part of you believes her- she genuinely seems like she’s feeling remorseful for her words and actions. But another part of you wonders if and when it’ll happen again. A part of you hopes that it won’t ever happen- the more naive side of you. 

But the other part of you- the jaded side that has grown used to this woman knows it won’t be long until she’s back to her habits. Because this has happened before. She’s done things like this before, and yes, this is the worst it’s been, but it never changes. 

It gets better for a week, two at most, before it turns back to what you’ve grown accustomed to. For a short span of time, Carrie will shower you with love and affection, soft touches and gentle eyes. She’ll lull you into a false sense of security like she always does. And when things begin to go south, and you speak up, she’ll turn. She’ll tell you that you’re ungrateful for the life you have, that she’s been nothing but the perfect housewife and you’re taking her for granted. She’ll tell you that she never should’ve married you, threaten you with divorce- promise you that if you were to separate, she would be just fine but nobody would ever be able to love a pathetic, broken woman like you. Carrie is a manipulative, egotistical narcissist. She’ll never change. You know this, and you wish you could just run away. But you have Millie to worry about, and she will always come first. As long as Millie is safe, there isn’t a chance in hell you’ll leave- even if things go back to how they usually are, and you know they will. It’s just a matter of time.

But for now, you bask in the change of pace. Your body is grateful for the healing time that you’ll get. You’ll take what you can get.

Tags (and let me know if you want to be included!): @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @sweetcheeksschemmenti @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie @temilyrights @emilynissangtr @squinnchy @dopenightmaretyphoon @emeraldoceansstuff

[jtimu]

I am full speed ahead on the paperback binding train. This weekend's binds - Heal Thyself (Astolat) and isn't a kingdom and palindrome (@garagepaperback).

The details:

I made these with the intention of having a few things to show for myself when I sign up for the FTH bazaar. The typesets are quick and dirty, adapting @citrusses' Affinity files and popping in the particulars of each fic. The covers are designed in Canva, after extensive staring at a google search and trying to figure out what makes a book cover look commercial. They're all legal quartos, which makes for a nice pocket-sized book.

The cover construction itself I'm quite pleased with. They're printed on an inkjet printer (I'm currently abusing a free HP instant ink subscription) on 80lb cardstock and coated with a satin finish laminating sheet. The end result feels under the fingers like something you'd pick up in a bookshop.

The things that went wrong:

I'm still working on my double fan technique. I'm having more success with balancing the block on binder clips rather than transferring it into a press, but for each of these there were a few pages where I needed to go back with a very small paintbrush and a dab of glue.

I love my guillotine. I do. The edges are delightful and crisp, but it does leave an indent on the spine where I squish the book into place. This may be unavoidable.

The grain direction is off. That's actually unavoidable because I don't feel like buying new paper right now.

Sometimes your title is off-center and that's just a thing that happens because math is hard.

For the sake of completeness, here are the back covers:

[farlynthordens]

Pillowfort vs Wafrn Comparison

hello to fellow tumblypoos who may be on the lookout for places to migrate in case tumblr does implode one day but don't know what the alternatives are like. i made accounts on 2 frequently mentioned tumblr clones, pillowfort and wafrn, and tested them as of April 2025. i hope this can be helpful!

SIGNING UP

Pillowfort: sign up free and be put on a waitlist, or pay $5 for instant access. The waitlist time was very short for me. Once you have your account, you get 50 invite links per week that you can send to others for instant signup access.

Wafrn: mods review every signup, but i still got access within a couple hours.

VIBES

Just my own personal observations from a very short period of use

Pillowfort: has a more "cozy and quiet" fandom and media-sharing vibe. it emphasizes using communities when you sign up (but you don't have to join any if you don't want to). most communities that currently exist are either super huge general ones (ex: "Anime") or tiny ones people made for their own friend group but i see potential for fandom-specific spaces to grow.

Wafrn: more unabashedly queer and chaotic (positive) like if you were in a discord server but on tumblr. it's more techy and text post/chatting focused but still has huge media-sharing capabilities. you can host your own server if you know how to. it's recommended you connect your acct to bsky if you want more fandom stuff (or consider a fandom-oriented server elsewhere, tho from what i can tell those don't have a lot of users yet)

MEDIA

Both do not allow multi-select, meaning that you have to upload files one at a time. both allow putting a shitload of images in one post (i didn't even have the patience to upload enough pics to find the limits). but i recommend against mass uploading media. those are individual ppl hosting those servers. consider paying them if you plan to upload a lot.

Pillowfort: only images/gifs, videos must be hosted externally. files must each be less than 2MB. adding additional images is a little janky and sometimes the buttons pop in/out.

Wafrn: video and images/gifs. not sure what the exact file size limit is, but i was able to upload a video that was 145MB so its decently big. media is horizontally scrolled rather than vertically stacked. also note: alt text is required by default, and the "post" button will disappear if any media is missing it.

POSTS

Pillowfort: allows turning off reblogs and comments. you can edit this at any time. seemingly no feature/option to truncate long posts you see on your dash? but i haven't come across any super long posts so maybe it's there. but there is a "read more" feature.

Wafrn: you can turn off notifications for a post, but there is no option to turn off reblogs/comments which i personally find to be a big downside. posts longer than a few sentences automatically get truncated.

LIKES, REBLOGS, COMMENTS, TAGS

Both platforms have likes, comments, reblog systems, and tagging.

Both platforms don't have a page to find all of your Likes. Likes are persistent, and you'll see the colored heart icon if something you liked before crosses your dash, but there is no dedicated Likes page from what i could find.

Reblogging works different on Wafrn, where you have 3 options: rewoot (=quick reblog with no tags), reply (=standard reblog where you have the OPTION to add your own reply and/or tags), and quote (seems to be similar to doing a quote tweet, can also add tags).

If you connect Wafrn to bsky, you can see more posts from there within the site but certain types of interactions don't work.

On Pillowfort, tagging works basically the same as it does on tumblr (can search tags site-wide or on your particular blog). on Wafrn you can currently only do site-wide tag searching, so you're not able to organize your blog if you're into that.

NSFW

Both sites allow NSFW content.

Pillowfort: new post > select checkbox to mark as NSFW (so users with "Show NSFW posts by default" turned off will see the post blurred)

Wafrn: new post > upload media, and then you can mark individual media as NSFW to blur it. Also a content warning checkbox you can select to add in cw tags (must write the tags yourself which leaves room for user inconsistency. there is no preset cw list yet)

DRAFTS, QUEUE

Pillowfort: has a draft, queue, and scheduling system. your queue schedule is editable from settings or the queue page. the queue and draft pages are underneath "Posts", but only show up when there are things in them.

Wafrn: no draft or queue system.

POST VISIBILITY

Pillowfort: in every new post, you can select if the post is public, only for logged in users, only mutuals, or private (only you). you can edit this at any time.

Wafrn: in every new post, you can select if the post is public, only for your followers, only for your server instance, or private (only you). this is not editable once a post is made

BLOG VISIBILITY

Pillowfort: in settings, you can turn on concealed mode which prevents people you're not following from following you or even viewing your blog.

Wafrn: there doesn't seem to be a way to hide your blog profile from certain users/logged out users, but you can change your default post visibility.

ASKS

Pillowfort: Does not have an Ask system, only DMs. Creating an ask system is on their to-do list.

Wafrn: has an Ask system that accepts messages from Wafrn users, logged out anons, or even other fediverse sites (there's a explanation how to do this if you go to someone's profile and try sending a message). you must go to settings to enable anon asks.

FOLLOWING

Pillowfort: by default, anyone can follow anyone. in settings, you can turn on concealed mode which prevents people you're not following from following you or even viewing your blog.

Wafrn: by default, anyone can follow anyone. in settings, you can turn on the ability to review all follow requests.

CUSTOMIZATION

Pillowfort: Dark and light mode for the whole site. blog editing is pretty basic, just changing colors of some page elements (with a little jank). in settings, you can upload multiple icons which you can swap between when making new posts. there are a bunch of pfp frames and badges.

Wafrn: Dark and light mode, plus many other preset themes. blog page editing allows for header images and custom css. you can have emojis (including animated ones) in your name.

MISC

Mobile: both have a mobile app, but Wafrn's is still a bit more experimental. both contain many bugs but when has that not been the case for tungle dot com either

Paid features: Both are free*. Wafrn has no paid features but dev has a patreon/kofi you can support to pay for servers costs. Pillowfort has options for paid icons or frames, higher file size limits (2MB->4MB), or doing a recurring monthly donation to pay server costs and seems to really need the help.

Sideblog support: neither has this yet but both seem to be exploring options for it. you cannot make more than 1 account with the same email.

Blacklist/blocking: both support blacklisting words/phrases and blocking users. Wafrn also supports muting (soft blocking), Pillowfort does not but it's on their to-do list.

Languages: both are only in english

Bugs and future updates: If you want to read more about what features each platform is working on you can check Pillowfort's staff post and Wafrn's github

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conclusion: no matter where you choose to migrate to, nothing will be exactly the same as tumblr and will certainly never reach its scale/longevity without consistent user support.

if we want the next gen of the internet to be free of advertising and selling user data, then we will all need to chip in for it. either you pay for your own server to host yourself/others, or you support the people/orgs hosting servers for the rest of us to make sure that the things you love can remain online. i HIGHLY recommend that if you move to any of these places, you consider doing recurring donations. this goes for not just pillowfort and wafrn, but mastodon, neocities, or any other fedi or independently hosted spaces.

fedi sites have a lot of potential, because you can theoretically CREATE a massive social network via connecting lots of little ones together. but interconnecting independent sites is still something that's very buggy and needs working out, and from what i can tell, just because sites are part of the fediverse does not make them instantly compatible/crosspost-able (ppl more experienced can correct me on this)