#The Nature Bound Café

[dawnled]

tag post #4 ( au verses #1 ) !

[faebled-stories]

The Touch of Time

Kinkvember Day 15: Breeding

Aespa Winter (Kim Minjeong) x Male reader

AN: We are halfway done! This is the longest fic so far, I really enjoyed the concept. Thank you all for the continuous support💖

In the distant future, humanity had shed many of the biological “weaknesses” that once defined it. From the moment of birth, every individual was fitted with a slim, almost invisible patch on their abdomen. This patch, designed to suppress primal desires and impulses, was hailed as a revolutionary step forward in the control of human behavior. Gone were the distractions of physical intimacy, the emotional turbulence tied to desire, and the chaotic unpredictability of natural reproduction.

DNA was now quietly harvested from a simple strand of hair, and reproduction took place in sterile laboratories, pristine and efficient. Physical touch, especially in the context of intimacy, was considered primitive, even taboo—an unnecessary relic of a less evolved past.

Minjeong, a young historian with an insatiable curiosity for the “old ways,” had always felt slightly out of place in this world. Her field of study focused on the intricacies of ancient human customs, the rituals and behaviors that had once bound people together. She spent her days in archives and libraries, poring over fragments of lives long gone.

Sometimes, in moments of quiet reflection, she wondered what it might have been like to live in a time when physical connection hadn’t been stifled by a patch. Yet, even with her questions, she had never truly dared to challenge the norms she had grown up with—until the day she discovered the book.

It was hidden, almost intentionally, in a shadowed corner of the university's vast, neglected library, coated in dust as if the world had tried to forget it. The cover was nondescript, worn smooth by time, with no title to hint at its contents. But as Minjeong opened it, a chill crept down her spine, and her heart began to pound.

The pages held something she had only read about in the most clinical terms: they described, in startling detail, how humans had once procreated—naturally, through touch, mutual pleasure, and deep, emotional connection. These words, so evocative and raw, held an intimacy she had never encountered, not even in fleeting dreams. The patch she wore had always silenced any stray curiosity about such things, but now, as she read each vivid passage, something unfamiliar and undeniable began to awaken inside her.

As she pored over the descriptions, a strange, tingling warmth spread through her body. She could hardly believe what she was reading—the language spoke of touch, skin meeting skin, the rush of unrestrained joy, sensations too elusive to truly grasp, yet undeniably alluring. She felt a pull, as though the book was leading her somewhere deeper within herself, a place she hadn’t known existed.

She kept reading, page after page, her cheeks flushing, her breath catching at times as she envisioned the “lost art” of human connection. What would it feel like, she wondered, to touch another person like that? To be touched, to share in a pleasure as mutual and instinctive as the book described.

Unable to contain her fascination, Minjeong decided to share her discovery with her friends. She met Karina, Giselle, and Ningning at their usual café, a sleek establishment with an atmosphere as controlled and pristine as the society it served. They were her closest friends, the only ones who tolerated her historical musings, though they saw them as mere eccentricities.

As they sipped on perfectly brewed coffee, Minjeong took a deep breath, gathering the courage to explain.

“So,” Minjeong began, her voice edged with excitement and trepidation, “I found this book in the library. It’s about... how humans used to procreate, you know, before the patch system.”

Giselle’s eyebrows shot up, and she let out a dismissive laugh. “Oh, here we go again. Minjeong, your obsession with ancient history is cute and all, but nobody wants to hear about people being all... gross and sweaty with each other.”

Minjeong’s face fell, but she pushed on, determined. “It’s not gross. It’s fascinating. The book describes the way they used to connect physically—how touch meant something. They had this thing called ‘orgasms,’ where their bodies would—”

“Orgasms?” Karina interrupted, giggling incredulously. “You mean, like, they’d enjoy rubbing up against each other? Like animals? That’s seriously disgusting.”

Ningning made a face, shaking her head. “I mean, why would anyone want that? We’ve evolved past that kind of stuff for a reason. I can’t even imagine wanting someone to touch me like that. Ugh.”

Minjeong’s cheeks flushed, but she pressed on, hoping to convey what she had felt while reading. “But don’t you see? It wasn’t just about the physical. The book talks about an emotional bond, a connection we can’t even comprehend anymore. Doesn’t that make you curious?”

Giselle leaned forward, her eyes narrowing slightly. “Curious? More like horrified. People used to waste time on that nonsense when we have perfectly good tech now. Why would anyone choose to go back to those primitive, messy days?”

Ningning chimed in, her tone a mix of disbelief and pity. “And for what, unnie? So we could feel... what exactly? A little thrill? That’s why we have simulations and sensory upgrades. Why would you even want something so... physical?”

“It’s not about just feeling something,” Minjeong said softly, though her voice shook. “It’s about connection. The book talks about something that went beyond just pleasure or physicality. It describes a bond, an intimacy that’s emotional, even spiritual. Don’t you ever wonder what that would be like?”

Her friends exchanged glances, almost as if they were silently agreeing that Minjeong had gone a step too far.

Karina crossed her arms, her expression guarded. “Honestly, Minjeong, you’re starting to sound a little obsessed. You’ve read too many old books, and now you’re idealizing a time when people barely understood themselves, let alone each other. It’s sad, really, how desperate they were.”

“Yeah,” Ningning agreed, shaking her head slowly. “You’re talking about a past that’s been left behind for a reason. I mean, if it was so great, why didn’t people keep doing it? They moved on, unnie. We all have.”

The conversation shifted soon after, with the others eagerly diving into discussions of their daily lives, work, and the latest technological advancements. Minjeong felt a heavy ache in her chest as she realized her friends couldn’t understand, and worse, they had no desire to try.

She thought of the book’s vivid descriptions—the gentle brush of fingers on skin, the shared gasps of pleasure, the promise of something deeper than she had ever known. It was as if she had stumbled upon a secret hidden within herself, and now, in the presence of her friends, that secret felt more precious but also more isolating.

Karina glanced at her, almost scolding. “Listen, Minjeong, you should probably stop reading stuff like that before it gets too far into your head. You’ll end up wanting things that just... don’t exist anymore.”

As they laughed and changed the subject, Minjeong stayed quiet, her mind lingering on the words in the book, replaying them in her thoughts like a forbidden melody. She couldn’t shake the feeling that the book was more than just a historical relic. It was a portal to something lost yet profoundly human—something she had been denied all her life.

Over the next few days, Minjeong’s mind was a whirlwind of thoughts about the book. The descriptions of intimacy, of deep pleasure, and undeniable connection replayed in her head, each line lingering like a tantalizing whisper. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she had glimpsed something profound, something long buried beneath the surface of her controlled world. The idea of experiencing real touch, raw and unfiltered, was impossible to ignore.

Driven by an insatiable curiosity, she decided to track down the author. The book seemed modern enough that she guessed its writer might still be alive. Hours of searching through online records and old archives finally led her to a name, yours.

She imagined you as an older scholar, perhaps with a lifetime of wisdom etched into your eyes—a figure hardened by years of research and deep understanding. But when she met you, her expectations unraveled. You were young, intense, and enigmatic, with a kind of fire in your gaze that spoke of passions and convictions hidden beneath the surface. In your eyes, she saw something she hadn’t expected: the same fascination with the past, the same relentless hunger to understand what had been lost.

Sitting across from each other in a quiet café, Minjeong couldn’t help but notice how differently you seemed to see the world. As you talked, your expressions shifted with each thought, a flash of yearning in your eyes that mirrored her own. Your voice carried a weight, each word carefully chosen as if guarding a truth no one else would understand.

“It’s strange,” she murmured, stirring her tea slowly, gathering her thoughts. “I’ve spent so long studying history, but I never realized how disconnected I feel from… everything. And then I read your book, and it felt like something inside me woke up, something that had been quiet my entire life.”

You leaned forward, a softness in your gaze that made her feel seen. “I know exactly what you mean,” you replied, your voice low and warm. “That’s why I wrote it. I wanted to preserve something real, something that made us human. The world today—it’s too sanitized, too empty. The patch has robbed us of something vital, something that our ancestors once cherished.”

She paused, uncertain whether to share her feelings about the reactions she’d faced from her friends. But your understanding eyes, the way you listened as if her words were precious, made her feel safe.

“My friends… they don’t understand,” she said, her voice just above a whisper. “They think it’s disgusting to even consider physical touch or intimacy. When I tried to tell them about the book, they laughed. They don’t want to imagine it, let alone experience it. I feel… so alone.”

Your expression softened as you listened, and you hesitated just a moment before reaching out, your hand hovering near hers. The space between your fingers felt charged, almost electric. “You’re not alone, Minjeong,” you said, voice steady yet full of emotion. “I’ve thought about it constantly, too. I’ve always wondered what it would feel like to take off the patch… to feel something real. But… I’ve never met anyone who would even consider it.”

Her heart pounded at your words, the thought flickering to life in her mind. She had been wondering the same thing for days—the possibility of removing the patch and experiencing everything the book described. Just imagining it made her pulse quicken, filling her with equal parts excitement and apprehension.

“Do you think…” Minjeong hesitated, searching your face. “Do you think we could try it? Take off the patch?”

You looked at her in surprise, something deeper stirring in your eyes—a longing that mirrored her own. “You mean… actually take it off?” you murmured. “You know it’s illegal, right?”

She nodded, feeling her breath catch, a flutter of thrill and nerves swelling in her chest. “Yes. I know. But… I want to know what it’s like. With you.” She paused, swallowing. “We just met but... I trust you.”

The air around you seemed to shift, growing thicker with the unspoken possibility lingering between you. Slowly, you reached out, your hand brushing gently against her arm, and even this slight contact sent a jolt through her, a strange warmth spreading from the place where your skin met hers.

“Are you sure?” you asked, your voice soft, eyes locked on hers. “Once we do this, Minjeong, we can’t go back.”

She met your gaze, her heart pounding, her face flushed with a mixture of excitement and something else—an ache she couldn’t explain. “I’m sure.”

The decision was made. Together, you prepared to take a step into the unknown, an act that felt both terrifying and thrilling. Moving in tandem towards stillness of your apartment, everything seemed sharper, as though the air itself were holding its breath with you. Minjeong lay down on your bed, her breathing shallow, chest rising and falling in a slow rhythm.

With a steadying breath, she began to strip, her movements deliberate and unhurried. She lifted her shirt over her head, revealing smooth, bare skin and the soft fabric of her bra hugging her form. Her fingers hesitated briefly before slipping down to unbutton her pants, sliding them off her legs until she stood there, clad only in her bra and panties. The small, smooth patch on her abdomen glinted faintly in the soft light—a mark of society’s control that had rested there for as long as she could remember.

To Minjeong, that patch represented a lifetime of safety, control, and order. It was all she had ever known, a constant presence that quieted any restless stirrings she might have felt. And yet, now, with you beside her, that little patch seemed more like a barrier—a thin, deceptive shield that stood between her and a life of real, unbridled sensation. For the first time, she felt ready to shed it.

You knelt beside her, heart hammering as your fingers hovered just above her skin. A thousand questions flickered in your mind, but one glance at Minjeong’s face told you she felt the same determination you did. This was an uncharted intimacy, raw and vulnerable, and as you gently laid your hand on her side, you felt the heat of her skin, warm and alive beneath your touch.

“Are you ready?” you asked softly, your voice barely more than a whisper, as though the room could be shattered by any louder sound.

Minjeong’s eyes met yours, filled with a trust so complete it took your breath away. She nodded, her voice a delicate thread. “I trust you.”

With a deep breath, you carefully examined the patch, your fingers brushing over its edges, searching for the small, hidden stitches. You had studied its design and knew the mechanics, but this was different. Here was Minjeong, lying before you, vulnerable, willing to let you unlock something deeply forbidden.

Your fingers found the first stitch, and with painstaking care, you began to unfasten it. Each small movement felt weighted with meaning, every shift of your hand a step further into the unknown. As you worked, a tiny prick of resistance tugged back each time you pulled at a stitch, as though the patch itself knew what you were doing, as though it was reluctant to release its hold.

A soft, sharp gasp escaped Minjeong’s lips halfway through, her hand instinctively reaching for you. She clutched your arm tightly, her grip firm yet trembling as she squeezed. Her breaths came quicker, each inhale shallow, as though her body itself were already bracing for the world that lay beyond the patch’s control.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured, voice gentle and soothing. You brushed your thumb softly against her arm, steadying her. “Hang in there, okay?”

Your words seemed to ground her, and slowly, she nodded, her face easing as she held onto you. The tension in her shoulders melted just enough for you to continue, and she focused on your voice, your touch, letting the pain drift away.

Finally, the last stitch slipped free. The patch gave way with a faint click, and as you lifted it, Minjeong’s entire body tensed, then softened in a single, breathless moment. Her eyes widened, a gasp catching in her throat as a strange warmth began to spread beneath her skin.

It felt like an electric current, a gentle buzz awakening nerves that had long been asleep. Her pulse quickened, beating fiercely against her ribs, echoing in her ears as her senses seemed to open, stretching in ways she hadn’t known were possible.

The air felt sharper, the softness of the bed more pronounced against her back, the sound of your breathing louder, more intimate. A flush rose to her cheeks, and she blinked up at you, her gaze dazed, overwhelmed by the torrent of sensations flooding her.

Your own breath hitched as you watched her, feeling the weight of her unguarded trust, the openness in her gaze. Her vulnerability mirrored your own, and it gave you the courage to act. With a steeling breath, you reached for your patch, the small, oppressive mark that had governed your life for so long.

Your fingers trembled as you slipped them beneath its edges, the adhesive resisting your touch. Heart pounding, you braced yourself for the pain. Gritting your teeth, you tugged hard. A sharp, searing ache ripped through your side, fiery and almost unbearable, as if the patch was trying to hold on, refusing to let go of the control it had over you.

But then it came free, leaving your skin raw and tingling, and you gasped, clutching the small device in your hand.

As the pain faded, a new sensation filled the space it left—a pulse of energy that rushed through your body, illuminating every nerve. The world sharpened around you, clearer, more vivid, as though a veil had been lifted. The faint hum of distant noises, the warmth of the room, the softness of the bed—everything felt magnified, brimming with a life you had never felt before.

For a moment, the two of you simply sat there, eyes wide, barely able to process the surge of sensations overwhelming you both. Each heartbeat, each breath, seemed to resonate with newfound depth, rippling through you in waves.

You looked at her, marveling at the transformation in her expression, her eyes wide and glistening with wonder. She looked back, her face a reflection of the awe you felt, a silent affirmation that you were both feeling something real, something profound.

“Do you feel it?” you asked softly, voice hushed with reverence, your gaze locked with hers.

Minjeong nodded, her lips parting as her voice came in a soft, breathless whisper. “I feel… everything.”

Without the patch, every touch, every brush of skin felt magnified, alive with a rawness that left Minjeong dizzy. Her senses felt heightened, each nerve sparking as if awakened for the first time. The air seemed thicker, charged with an energy she could almost taste, and her skin buzzed with an unfamiliar intensity. When you reached out, gently placing your hand on her thigh, her entire body jolted as a wave of warmth spread from where your hand rested, pulsing outward. Her breath hitched, her heart thudding as she instinctively leaned into your touch, craving more of this strange, electric feeling she couldn’t name.

Your hand moved slowly, almost reverently, sliding higher as your fingers traced delicate patterns on her skin. Each tiny movement sent sparks through her body, lighting up places within her that had been silent all her life. Minjeong’s body quivered, her skin hyperaware of every inch you touched, as if your fingers were leaving trails of fire in their wake. Her hips shifted involuntarily, her body responding to you with an eagerness she barely understood but couldn’t resist.

When your fingers brushed over the delicate place between her legs, a flood of sensation hit her, and her control snapped, unraveling as her entire being reacted to that single touch. The pressure, the intensity—it was overwhelming. She felt her body arch, a soft gasp escaping her lips as a surge of heat radiated through her, more powerful than anything she could have imagined.

“Oh—oh my God,” Minjeong gasped, her voice trembling as her hips bucked against your hand, her body acting on instincts that felt both new and achingly familiar.

You froze for a moment, watching her with wide eyes as her body trembled under your touch. Minjeong’s breath came in short, desperate bursts, her chest rising and falling as an uncontrollable wave of pleasure surged within her. She reached out, clutching at your arm as if you were her anchor, her gaze meeting yours with a mixture of awe, confusion, and something else—a deep, unspoken yearning.

“What’s happening to me?” Her voice was barely a whisper, breathless, as her body shook, caught in a sensation that was both exhilarating and terrifying.

You looked down at her, your gaze filled with understanding and warmth, as if you knew exactly what she was feeling. Brushing a loose strand of hair from her face, you leaned closer, your voice low and soothing. “I... I think you just had an orgasm.”

The word echoed in her mind, stirring memories of the book’s descriptions—the culmination of human intimacy, the apex of physical connection that had always seemed like a distant concept.

She remembered the clinical language, the detached explanations, and realized just how shallow those words had been. They hadn’t prepared her for this—something so consuming, so raw it made her feel as though she was discovering a part of herself that had been hidden all her life.

Her fingers tightened around your arm, anchoring herself as she felt the aftershocks ripple through her, each one leaving her a little more breathless. “That was... an orgasm?” she whispered, her voice tinged with wonder and disbelief.

You nodded, a small smile pulling at the corners of your lips as you watched her, your expression filled with tenderness and awe. “Yeah,” you murmured. “Just like in the book... but maybe better than either of us ever imagined.”

Minjeong lay back, her mind reeling, as her body continued to hum with the afterglow of pleasure. She felt alive, awake in a way she’d never known before, as though she’d unlocked something deeply hidden within her. She had just experienced an orgasm—something her body had been denied all her life, a sensation so visceral it left her trembling.

“I... I didn’t think it would feel like that,” She admitted, her voice soft and still a bit unsteady. She looked up at you, her cheeks flushed, her eyes wide. “It felt... so much more than anything I read. It was like... like I was completely free, like I’d let go of something I’d been holding onto forever.”

You reached out, your fingers brushing her cheek in a gentle, grounding touch. Your gaze was steady, filled with warmth, as if you truly understood what she was feeling. “It’s different when you experience it,” you said softly, your voice soothing. “The patch kept it all locked away for so long... it makes sense it would feel this intense.”

As the waves of her orgasm began to subside, a new feeling stirred within Minjeong—an instinctual curiosity, an urge she hadn’t anticipated. She felt an almost primal desire to reciprocate, to touch you the way you had touched her. If her body had responded so powerfully, so completely, to your touch, what would happen if she reached out to you?

The thought of seeing you experience that same kind of release, of watching your body tremble and surrender to pleasure, sent a fresh surge of excitement coursing through her, a thrill that made her heartbeat quicken.

Without hesitation, she shifted closer, her fingers reaching out tentatively to trace a line down your stomach. The feeling of your skin under her fingertips felt both foreign and exhilarating. She could feel your muscles tense beneath her touch, your breath hitching as her hand drifted lower, guided by a mixture of curiosity and a lingering echo of the sensations she’d just experienced.

Her movements were deliberate yet hesitant, testing the boundaries of her newfound courage. Slowly, Minjeong’s fingers found the waistband of your pants. With a slight glance up, her gaze met yours, searching for any sign of hesitation. When she found none, she hooked her fingers into the fabric, tugging them down along with your boxers in a single motion, exposing you completely. Her breath hitched, her cheeks flushed, but she didn’t stop.

Her hand moved with a new confidence, wrapping around you gently, the warmth of her touch sending a jolt through your body. You exhaled sharply, the sensation overwhelming, and she couldn’t help but notice the way your body responded instantly to her. A soft groan escaped your lips, your hips shifting slightly toward her touch as if your body was seeking more.

She began to move her hand slowly, cautiously, her strokes experimental but deliberate, guided by what she’d read and a deep, unspoken desire to bring you the same kind of pleasure she’d just felt. The weight and heat beneath her palm were new, almost intoxicating, as she adjusted to the rhythm that seemed to draw those delicious, throaty sounds from you.

“Minjeong…” Your voice was low, breathless, your eyes dark with a mixture of surprise and desire. “You don’t have to—”

“I want to,” she whispered, her determination evident in the way her strokes became more confident. “I want you to feel what I felt.”

Her hand moved steadily, her touch becoming bolder as your body reacted to her. She felt the tension ripple through your muscles, your breathing growing heavier with every passing moment. Each groan, each subtle arch of your hips, sent a shiver down her spine, fueling her desire to keep going.

Your hands gripped the sheets beneath you as her pace quickened, her strokes more purposeful now. The room filled with the sound of your ragged breaths and soft moans, the intensity of the moment overwhelming both of you. She watched your face, captivated, as the tension in your body built toward an inevitable release, your hips moving in time with her hand in a desperate, instinctual rhythm.

Minjeong’s curiosity got the better of her as she adjusted her position, leaning closer to get a better look. Her eyes lingered on every detail, mesmerized by how your body responded to her touch. She wanted to see everything, to witness the effect she had on you up close. Her hand continued its rhythm, her strokes steady and deliberate, her lips slightly parted in concentration as her gaze stayed fixed on you.

Then, with a deep, guttural moan, your body tensed, your muscles tightening as your climax surged through you. Minjeong’s eyes widened as she felt the first sudden, hot burst against her hand. She gasped in surprise, her heart pounding as she watched, unable to look away. The release was powerful, shooting hard and fast, catching her completely off guard.

A warm streak hit her cheek and trailed down to her jaw, while more landed on her neck and pooled in her hands. Her breath hitched as she stared, her lips parting in astonishment at the sight. The moment felt surreal, intimate, and raw, leaving her stunned and unsure of what to say or do.

Her face flushed a deep red as she glanced up at you, her hand still resting lightly against you. “Oh my God,” she murmured, her voice barely audible. “Did I… did we waste it? I-It’s supposed to… you know… go inside.” Her gaze flicked nervously between you and the evidence pooling in her hands, uncertainty clouding her features.

Your chest rose and fell rapidly as you came down from the high, your body still trembling slightly from the intensity. Slowly, your eyes fluttered open, the glazed expression softening as you met her worried gaze. A gentle smile tugged at your lips, and you let out a low, reassuring chuckle.

“No, Minjeong,” you said softly, shaking your head. “You didn’t mess up. This… this is normal. You did everything right.”

Her shoulders relaxed slightly at your words, her lips curving into a shy, tentative smile as she glanced down at the evidence of her effect on you. Still holding it in her hands, she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Despite her initial embarrassment, a flicker of pride warmed her chest—she’d brought you to this moment, and it filled her with an intoxicating mix of exhilaration and wonder.

Minjeong’s gaze lingered on her hands, her fingers glistening with the warm remnants of your release. A curious expression crossed her face as she processed everything, her mind racing. She had read about this before—about the way a man’s body reacted at the height of pleasure—but witnessing it firsthand, feeling the heat of it against her skin, was entirely different. It was raw, intimate, and strangely captivating.

Her brow furrowed slightly as she continued to look, her curiosity getting the better of her. Almost without thinking, she tilted her hand, letting a small trail of it slide down her finger. She hesitated for a moment, glancing at you as if seeking silent permission. Then, emboldened by the heat still lingering between you, she brought her finger to her lips.

The taste was unexpected—salty, slightly bitter—but it sent a shudder through her, her body reacting instinctively. Her cheeks flushed a deeper red as she licked her lips, the unfamiliar sensation heightening the arousal already simmering within her. The intimacy of the act, the knowledge that it came from you, made her heartbeat quicken.

Minjeong glanced up at you, her eyes dark with unspoken emotion, the lingering taste on her lips seeming to ignite something deeper within her. “It’s… different,” she murmured, her voice soft but filled with a quiet, almost shy desire. Yet there was no mistaking the spark in her gaze as she leaned closer, her curiosity and arousal intertwining in a way that left her yearning for more.

“But… what now?” she asked, her voice small and uncertain. “Does it… does it take a long time to… I don’t know… come back?”

A gentle smile spread across your face as you reached for the edge of the blanket, wiping yourself clean, your gaze warm and understanding. “No, not as long as you’d think,” you replied softly. “Just give me a minute… trust me, with the way I’m feeling right now? It won’t take long.”

Minjeong’s cheeks flushed as she felt the tension still pulsing between them, an intensity that hadn’t faded but had only grown stronger. Though her body had already released once, it was still alive with a hum of anticipation, craving more of the closeness that had only begun to reveal itself. Her skin felt sensitive, every inch of her alive and awake, and the desire that lingered between you both seemed almost endless.

As you pulled her close, your breath warm against her ear, your voice dropped to a low, intimate whisper. “The desire… it’s unbearable, isn’t it? We’ve held it back for so long… now that it’s free, it’s hard to stop.”

She nodded, her own breath catching as she leaned into you, feeling the heat radiating from your body. “I didn’t think it would be like this,” she whispered, her voice soft and filled with wonder. “It’s like… I can’t get enough.”

Your hands drifted down her back, fingers tracing slow, delicate paths that sent tingles down her spine, igniting her senses further. With deliberate care, you reached for the clasp of her bra, unhooking it and sliding the straps down her arms, exposing her to your gaze. She shivered under your touch, the anticipation in her eyes mirrored by the rising heat between you. Gently, you guided her panties down her hips, leaving her completely bare before you.

You leaned in, pressing soft, lingering kisses to her neck, shoulders, and collarbone, each one drawing a soft gasp from her lips. Your mouth trailed lower, worshipping her with every kiss as you explored her body, your lips brushing against her chest, stomach, and hips. The warmth of your touch and the intimacy of your kisses set her skin ablaze, her body trembling beneath you as your affection deepened the connection between you.

She could feel you stirring beneath her, your body responding just as eagerly, recovering quickly and pressing against her with a palpable urgency. Her heart raced, her pulse quickening as she realized just how deeply this hunger ran—not fading, but growing, expanding with each heartbeat, filling every part of her with a yearning she hadn’t known was possible.

Her voice barely a whisper, she looked up at you, her cheeks flushed with desire. “I… I want to do it again.”

A flicker of something intense crossed your gaze, desire deepening in your eyes as her words sank in. You leaned in close, your fingers trailing down her stomach with a deliberate slowness, and her body reacted to your touch as if it had been waiting for it all along, each caress building a tension that left her breathless. “Me too,” you replied, your voice thick with emotion. “We can take our time… explore every part of this together.”

Minjeong felt her pulse quicken as your hand drifted lower, each touch more confident, and yet filled with care. There was no rush this time—each movement, each gentle caress felt purposeful, as though you were savoring every moment. Her breath hitched as your fingers found her center, brushing over her with a tenderness that set her body alight. She could feel her hips lifting involuntarily, craving more of your touch, her body arching toward you, completely attuned to the rhythm you were setting.

But you held back, your movements measured, each stroke a deliberate invitation to surrender. Minjeong’s hands gripped the sheets, her fingers twisting in them as she fought to keep some sense of control, but every motion of your hand sent ripples of pleasure coursing through her, slowly eroding any restraint she had left. Her mind was hazy, her thoughts blurred as she gave in to the sensations, letting herself feel every spark, every touch.

Your voice, soft and steady, cut through the haze, anchoring her. “I’ll follow what the book says,” you murmured, your tone reassuring yet filled with quiet excitement. “But you can tell me if anything feels too intense… we can go as slow as you want.”

She met your gaze, her eyes filled with trust and anticipation, nodding as her voice caught in her throat. She watched as you reached for the book—the one you’d written, your meticulous research woven into its pages—flipping to a section that you both had studied countless times. Back then, the words were abstract, a roadmap for a journey neither of you had truly embarked on. Now, they felt vivid, alive, as you stood on the edge of turning theory into reality.

Your voice was steady but tinged with wonder as you read aloud, revisiting the descriptions of intimacy that had once seemed so clinical. “This part,” you murmured, “it’s about connection—real, physical connection. It says to feel, not just to touch. To be present in every moment.”

You set the book down beside you, your hands trembling slightly as they moved to her skin. Following your own written guidance, you traced a line down her arm, feeling the softness of her flesh, your touch lingering. “Even after all my research,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper, “I never understood how different this would feel. How real.”

Minjeong shivered at your words, her lips parting as your fingers brushed her thigh, gliding lower to gently spread her legs. Her breath hitched, her body already responding to the unspoken promise in your touch. “It says to let the connection build naturally,” you continued, your tone soft yet deliberate. “No rushing, no hesitation… just us.”

Your hand slid between her folds, your fingers moving slowly, reverently, as if committing every detail to memory. Her hips bucked instinctively against your touch, and the sound of her soft moan filled the room. The book’s instructions felt distant now, a framework that was giving way to something far more instinctual, far more profound.

As you continued to explore, positioning yourself over her, you kept your gaze on her, your eyes holding a mixture of tenderness and longing. “According to this,” you murmured, your voice soft and steady, “I’m supposed to… enter you slowly. We can take it at your pace… but once we both reach our climax… I’m meant to stay inside, to hold that connection.”

Her heart pounded, but she nodded eagerly, the words barely leaving her lips as she whispered, “I want that… I want to feel it all.”

With a careful, gentle movement, you positioned your shaft and slowly entered her. The both of you stilled, caught in the shared intensity of the sensation. A rush of warmth spread between you, each of you feeling the other in a way that was beyond description.

Minjeong’s hands found your back, her fingers pressing into your skin as she closed her eyes, losing herself in the overwhelming sensations that pulsed through her. It felt as though her entire being had awakened, each nerve attuned to the rhythm you created together.

She was so lost in her own thoughts that she almost missed your voice breaking the quiet.

“So, apparently,” you began, glancing down at the book with a look of intrigued curiosity, “if two people share an emotional connection, every touch, every sensation can deepen the experience. It says to explore, to learn each other’s bodies, to let it build naturally.”

Her breath hitched as your words settled in the space between you, her body already trembling beneath yours as you began to move again. The slow, deliberate rhythm of your thrusts made every nerve in her body feel alive, each motion sending waves of pleasure radiating through her. She met your gaze, her vulnerability mirrored in the unspoken trust you shared.

You leaned closer, trailing soft, deliberate kisses along her neck, letting your lips linger on her skin. She shivered at the warmth of your mouth, your movements in sync with the rhythm of your hips. Her breath hitched again as you moved lower, your lips brushing against the sensitive curve of her collarbone before descending to her chest. Her body trembled as you kissed her nipples, your tongue flicking over the sensitive peak before your lips wrapped around it.

The sensation was overwhelming, an electric jolt that combined with the fullness of you inside her, making her arch instinctively beneath you. When you began to suck gently, a soft, breathy moan escaped her lips, her hands clutching at the sheets as the intensity of the moment consumed her. Each thrust seemed to amplify the pleasure, the combined sensations creating a crescendo of raw emotion and physical connection.

Her mind raced, her heart pounding as waves of pleasure built steadily within her, each one more powerful than the last. Every pull of your lips, every flick of your tongue, every deliberate movement of your body within hers heightened the connection between you, making her feel more vulnerable and alive than she ever thought possible.

She arched into you, her body moving instinctively in time with yours, her breathing growing shallow and uneven. “This,” she murmured, her voice trembling with emotion, “it’s so much more than I ever thought it could be.” Her words were punctuated by gasps and soft cries, her body surrendering completely to the rhythm you shared.

Each touch, each calculated movement between you was designed to bring you both closer to that edge, but neither of you rushed.

Minjeong felt lost, spinning in the sensations as you guided her towards a second climax, your every touch bringing her closer to that peak once more.

“I’m close again,” Minjeong whispered, her voice trembling, her body tensing in anticipation. “I can feel it…”

“Me too,” you murmured, your voice thick with desire. Your hands gripped her hips, pulling her closer as you moved with her, your breath hot against her skin. “Let’s do it together.”

Your bodies moved in perfect rhythm, your pace quickening as the tension built between you, an energy so intense that Minjeong felt it vibrating through her very core. Her breaths came in ragged, uneven gasps as her hands gripped your shoulders, feeling the second wave building within her, ready to crest.

The pressure was unbearable, the heat flooding through her body as you moved together, faster, harder, each movement pushing her closer to the edge.

“Now,” you whispered, your voice tight with urgency, as if holding back any longer was impossible. “Now, Minjeong.”

Minjeong’s body surrendered completely, her second orgasm crashing over her like a tidal wave. The sensation was all-consuming, rippling through her in waves that seemed to touch every nerve, every hidden corner of her being.

Her back arched sharply, her head tipping back as her mouth parted in a breathless, almost desperate gasp. The pleasure was unlike anything she had ever known—raw, overwhelming, and deeply intimate.

Her legs wrapped tightly around you, instinctively pulling you closer, as if anchoring herself to you in the midst of her climax. The intensity of the moment only heightened as her inner walls clenched rhythmically around you, pulsing in time with her racing heartbeat.

Each contraction was powerful, drawing you deeper, her body gripping you with an unrelenting tightness that seemed to plead for more, to keep you there, locked in this moment of shared ecstasy.

She felt the warmth of your release flooding her, a sensation that sent an unexpected jolt through her body. It was an unfamiliar but exhilarating feeling, the heat spreading within her and amplifying her pleasure to a level she hadn’t thought possible. It was raw, primal, and so deeply intimate that it made her tremble in your arms, her body shuddering as she rode out the waves of her orgasm.

For you, the feeling was equally overwhelming. Her inner walls milked you with a desperate, almost unrelenting rhythm, each squeeze sending shockwaves of pleasure through you. It felt as though her body was drawing out every drop, holding you tightly in a way that made it impossible to hold back. A deep, guttural moan tore from your lips as you gave in completely, the force of your release leaving you trembling.

Each pulse of your release was matched by her contractions, the two of you locked in a perfect, instinctual rhythm. Her warmth surrounded you, heightening the intensity of your climax, every squeeze of her body dragging out the pleasure, making it feel endless. The connection between you was palpable, an unspoken understanding communicated in every motion, every sound, every shared breath.

Minjeong’s cries blended with your own, the room filled with the raw, unfiltered sounds of pleasure. As your climax subsided, the echoes of her soft moans and trembling gasps remained, lingering in the air. You stayed buried within her, her legs still wrapped around you, her arms pulling you close as if she couldn’t bear to let go.

Both of you were left breathless, trembling, and utterly consumed by the intensity of what you had just shared—a moment that transcended the physical, leaving an indelible mark on both of your hearts.

For a brief, perfect moment, it was as if the entire world had fallen away, leaving only the two of you, entwined and breathless, your bodies still trembling from the intensity of what you had just experienced. The room was filled with the sounds of your mingled breaths, rising and falling together as you clung to each other, feeling the lingering aftershocks of pleasure resonate between you.

Minjeong’s chest rose and fell in sync with yours as she held onto you, her heartbeat slowing as she grounded herself in the warmth and weight of your embrace. The sensation of being so close, so in tune, left her feeling utterly content, yet completely vulnerable.

Each time she felt you shift or tighten your hold, she felt the memory of each pulse, each lingering sensation, flooding her with a gentle warmth, a comfort she hadn’t realized she’d been craving.

Her fingers traced gentle patterns on your back as she lay there, absorbing the reality of what you had shared. She felt every lingering pulse within her, each subtle echo of your release, and the closeness left her feeling both exhilarated and deeply moved. She looked up at you, her eyes soft, a small smile on her lips, still too overwhelmed to find words but hoping you could feel the depth of what this moment meant to her.

You brushed a strand of hair from her face, your gaze filled with a tenderness that matched her own, and pulled her close, holding her as you both soaked in the quiet intimacy. The connection between you was more than either of you had expected—something that reached beyond the physical, beyond what words could express. And for now, the world outside could wait.

After a few moments of silence, you spoke, your voice soft and filled with a wonder that mirrored her own. “That was… more than I ever imagined.”

Minjeong nodded, still too overwhelmed to speak. Her body buzzed with lingering aftershocks of pleasure, her mind racing to comprehend the magnitude of what she’d just experienced. She hadn’t thought it was possible to feel so much, to connect so deeply with another person.

“The book didn’t even come close,” she whispered, her voice trembling as emotions welled up within her. “I didn’t know… it could be like this.”

A gentle smile played on your lips as you brushed a strand of hair from her face, looking at her with a gaze filled with understanding and affection. “Neither did I,” you replied softly. “I can’t believe we went our whole lives without that.”

You lay together in the quiet of the room, still tangled in each other’s embrace, your bodies warm and relaxed as you both reflected on what had just happened. The weight of your decision to remove the patches, the overwhelming intensity of your shared experiences, and the depth of the connection that had formed left both of you in awe. Minjeong realized then, with a clarity that made her heart ache, that she couldn’t go back to the way things were. Not after this.

A warmth stirred within her, different from before—not just curiosity or experimentation, but something deeper, something that felt like an unstoppable need. Her body craved you, not just to explore, but as if she were drawn to you in a way she couldn’t fully explain. The thought of being close to you again, feeling your touch, sent shivers through her entire body.

You noticed her subtle movement, the way she shifted against you, and gently ran your fingers through her hair. “Are you okay?” you asked softly, your voice filled with care and understanding.

Minjeong looked up at you, her heart pounding as her eyes met yours. The connection felt stronger now, more intense, like a current running between you that couldn’t be ignored. “I… I need you again,” she whispered, her voice thick with desire, the words slipping out before she could stop them.

Your eyes darkened, a spark of need flashing as you took in her words. Your hand slid down her back, pulling her closer, pressing her body against yours. “Already?” you asked with a faint smile, though your voice betrayed the hunger that mirrored her own.

“I can’t help it,” Minjeong admitted, her cheeks flushing as her body pressed against you, feeling every inch of you against her. “I can’t stop thinking about it… I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Your expression softened as you held her close, sensing the depth of her need and responding with your own. The air thickened between you as you both gave in once more, realizing that the bond you had unlocked wasn’t something that could be silenced or ignored

She felt you stir beside her, your body responding immediately to the heat in her words. The hunger within her sharpened, an intense, primal need that was more than just physical. It was something deeper, something raw and instinctual that seemed to awaken with every heartbeat, urging her closer to you. Her body ached to feel you again, to pull you closer in every way, and the intensity of her need made her breath catch.

Your hands roamed over her body, your touch igniting a fire beneath her skin. The anticipation sent a thrill through her, her pulse racing as she took you in, the desire radiating off both of you like a palpable heat.

“I want to feel you again,” Minjeong whispered, her voice trembling under the weight of her need. “I want you to… to keep going… to keep bre—”

She hesitated, her cheeks flushing, searching for the right words as her eyes met yours. But you seemed to understand without her needing to say it. Your hands gripped her hips, fingers digging into her skin as your gaze locked with hers, filled with both passion and tenderness.

“To keep breeding you?” you murmured, your voice thick with both lust and affection.

Her body reacted instantly, a hot wave of sensation spreading through her at your words. The idea of it—of you filling her again and again, the intimacy of it, the unbreakable connection it represented—was overwhelming. She felt her breath hitch as she nodded, her breaths coming in shallow gasps as she leaned down, her lips brushing against yours in a soft, lingering touch.

“Yes,” she breathed, her voice barely a whisper. “I want you to breed me… again and again.”

A soft groan escaped your lips at her words, and you adjusted her position, your hands sliding beneath her thighs as you pushed her legs up, resting them on your shoulders. The shift folded her body slightly under your weight, her knees pressed close to her chest as you leaned into her, your body flush against hers. The angle sent a shiver through her as the anticipation built, her heart racing as she felt your hands gripping her hips firmly.

Slowly, you pressed into her, her body stretching to accommodate you, the familiar pressure igniting every nerve in her body. Minjeong gasped, her head falling back against the pillow as the sensation overwhelmed her. The new angle made everything feel more intense—every inch of you seemed to reach deeper, filling her completely in a way that made her toes curl.

Her hands gripped your arms as her hips instinctively rolled forward, meeting your movements as you began to thrust into her, slow and deliberate at first. Each motion sent shockwaves of pleasure through her, her back arching as you leaned further into her, your weight pressing her firmly into the bed.

The pleasure was electrifying, each thrust bringing her closer to the edge, her body trembling beneath you. Her breaths came in short, shallow gasps, her chest rising and falling rapidly as your pace quickened. Her body folded under your weight as you leaned forward, driving her deeper into the bed.

Your hands slid up her sides, trembling with urgency, before cupping her face gently, your thumbs brushing over her flushed cheeks. The contrast of your tender touch against the intensity of your movements made her gasp, her soft, breathy moans growing louder as you pressed her further into the mattress.

“Minjeong,” you groaned, your voice thick with need, your gaze locking onto hers. Her flushed cheeks and parted lips only spurred you on, the sight of her beneath you, completely vulnerable and lost in the moment, driving you closer to the brink.

“I’m yours,” she whispered, her voice trembling as her fingers clung to your shoulders, her eyes meeting yours with an intensity that took your breath away. “I’m completely yours.”

Her words ignited something primal in you, and your movements grew faster, deeper, the new angle amplifying the sensation for both of you. Her body tightened around you, her inner walls gripping you with each thrust, milking you for everything you had. The pressure building within her was almost unbearable, her core aching for release as her muscles clenched and fluttered around you.

Overcome by the intimacy of the moment, you leaned down, capturing her lips in a deep, passionate kiss. Her soft, eager response heightened everything, her lips moving against yours with a hunger that mirrored the rhythm of your bodies. The warmth of her mouth, the way she gasped into the kiss, made every nerve in your body feel electrified.

As your lips pressed harder against hers, you felt her trembling beneath you, her inner walls clenching tightly around your member in rhythm with every thrust. Each squeeze sent shockwaves through your body, the intensity of her responses drawing you deeper into the shared ecstasy. Her whimpers were muffled by your kiss, and her fingers tangled in your hair, holding you close as if afraid to let go.

The kiss deepened, slow but intense, a perfect counterpoint to the raw, primal connection of your movements. Her cries became softer, breathier, blending with your groans as the sensations built to an almost unbearable level.

The intimacy of the kiss, combined with the feeling of her pulsing around you, brought you both closer to the brink, your bodies and hearts completely in sync as you moved together toward the edge.

“Minjeong… I’m close…” you murmured, your voice strained, your body trembling as you fought to hold back for just a moment longer, wanting to bring her over the edge with you.

“Don’t stop… please don’t stop…” she gasped, her voice breaking as her hands pressed against your chest, her body trembling beneath yours.

As you tried to hold on, your body trembling with the effort of resisting your release, your position unintentionally shifted. Your hips angled slightly as you pressed into her, and suddenly, your length grazed something deep within her that made her entire body jolt violently.

A sharp, high-pitched cry tore from her lips, her eyes flying open in shock and overwhelming pleasure as her nails dug into your arms. Her expression was a mixture of surprise and desperation, her voice trembling as she gasped, “Oh my God—right there!” Her thighs trembled against your shoulders, her whole body arching into you. “Do that again—please, keep doing that!”

Her reaction sent a rush of adrenaline through you, and despite the accidental nature of the movement, you adjusted to repeat it, angling yourself to hit that spot again. Her cries grew louder, her body tightening around you as wave after wave of pleasure overtook her, the intensity of the sensation completely melted her.

Minjeong's cries grew louder, her body arching beneath you as her legs trembled on your shoulders. The intensity of her pleasure was palpable, each thrust drawing a mix of desperate gasps and cries from her as her walls tightened around you even more, gripping you with a rhythm that was almost too much to bear.

Suddenly, with a powerful thrust, she shattered, her orgasm crashing over her with a force so intense it felt as though the entire world had disappeared. The weight of your body pressing her into the mattress, the relentless rhythm of your deep thrusts, the angle perfectly abusing her most sensitive spot—all of it combined into a crescendo of pleasure that overwhelmed her completely.

For a brief, fleeting moment, Minjeong’s mind went utterly blank. The sensations overtook everything else—waves of ecstasy rippling through her as her body convulsed uncontrollably beneath you. Her walls clenched and pulsed around you, milking you desperately, her muscles tightening in a rhythm that seemed to beg for more, even as the overwhelming intensity left her trembling. The warmth of your release filling her, mixing with the previous flood, heightened everything, the feeling of fullness amplifying every pulse, every flutter of her core.

Her body shook violently, her hands clutching at you for grounding as tears welled up in her eyes. A broken sob escaped her lips, her voice trembling as she gasped for air, completely overcome. Her hair was a wild mess, clinging to her damp, flushed face, and her cheeks were streaked with tears she didn’t even realize she was shedding.

Each thrust, each contraction, sent her spiraling further into a blissful haze until her body could only quiver under you, her mind and body utterly consumed by the raw, primal connection.

Finally, her cries softened into breathless whimpers as her climax began to wane, leaving her trembling and spent. You slowed your movements, carefully easing her legs down from your shoulders, and leaned into her, wrapping your arms around her trembling body. She clung to you instinctively, her face buried against your chest as she shuddered uncontrollably, her body still quivering from the aftershocks of her release.

“It’s okay,” you murmured softly, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead as you held her close. Your hands stroked her back in soothing motions, trying to ground her as she came down from the overwhelming high. Her breaths were uneven, and you could feel her trembling against you, her body still wracked with small, involuntary shakes.

Minjeong’s fingers gripped your shoulders tightly as if anchoring herself, her voice trembling as she whispered, “That was… that was so much… I’ve never… I didn’t know I could feel like that.”

You hugged her closer, cradling her against your chest as she melted into your embrace, her trembling gradually easing under your touch. The room was quiet except for the sound of your shared breaths, the intensity of the moment lingering between you. As you held her, her quivers became softer, her body finding solace in your warmth, the bond between you deepened by the raw, unfiltered intimacy of the moment.

For a long moment, you stayed like that, tangled in each other’s arms, your bodies still humming from the intensity of what you had just experienced. Her heart raced in time with yours, her mind spinning as she held onto you, feeling as though nothing else existed but the two of you.

As the aftershocks of their shared pleasure began to fade, Minjeong lifted her head, her eyes meeting yours. The connection between you was undeniable now—deeper and more intense than anything she had ever imagined. It wasn’t just about the physical closeness anymore; it was the way you looked at each other, the way your bodies moved in perfect rhythm, the way her heart seemed to beat in time with yours. She could feel that you were a part of her now, in a way that made her feel both vulnerable and fiercely protective.

You smiled softly, reaching up to brush a stray strand of hair from her face. “That… was even better than the first time.”

Minjeong nodded, her body still buzzing in the blissful afterglow. “I didn’t think it was possible to feel this way,” she murmured, a dreamy smile playing on her lips.

“It’s like we’re rediscovering it all over again,” you replied, your voice filled with wonder. “Every time.”

Her heart swelled, a warmth blooming within her that went beyond the physical. She looked up, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, the sincerity of her emotions bringing a slight tremor to her voice. “I think I’m falling for you,” she whispered, her words laced with a vulnerability she hadn’t shown before.

Your gaze softened, and your hand cupped her face, pulling her closer. “I’ve been falling for you this whole time,” you whispered back, your lips brushing over hers in a tender, lingering kiss that sent a shiver down her spine.

You lay together, tangled in each other’s arms, basking in the warmth of each other’s presence. The quiet moments that followed were thick with understanding, an unspoken connection that now simmered between you both.

Each touch, each kiss felt like a rediscovery of something sacred, something you had both been yearning for without knowing. Minjeong could feel the bond between you growing deeper, a realization that filled her with a comforting sense of security, yet also stirred something unsettling within her.

After a long silence, with her head still resting against your chest and her fingers tracing soft patterns on your skin, reality began to creep back into her thoughts. She thought about the future—the knowledge you had uncovered together, and what you would do next. What you had discovered was too profound, too life-changing to keep hidden. She lifted her head, meeting your gaze with a determined look.

“We need to tell people,” she murmured, her voice carrying the weight of the revelation. “We can’t keep this to ourselves. Others deserve to feel what we’ve felt.”

You listened, though a shadow crossed your face, your hand stilling as you gently traced her back. “I know… but who do we tell? And how? Most people… they won’t understand. They’ll think we’re out of our minds.”

Sitting up slightly, Her mind drifted to the three other girls she held closest to her heart “Maybe… we start with people close to us. People we trust. Maybe I could tell my friends.”

Your expression remained serious as you considered the idea. “Your friends? The ones who thought the book was just some weird obsession?”

A hint of uncertainty entered her voice, but she pushed on. “Yes. I mean, they laughed it off, but they’re like family to me. They’ve been my closest friends for years. I love them… and maybe, if I explain it to them, they’ll understand. And who knows? Maybe they’ll want to experience it too.”

At first, the idea of sharing this discovery with her friends was thrilling to Minjeong. Karina, Giselle, and Ningning were her closest friends; they had been by her side through everything. If they could experience the depth of what she’d felt with you, maybe it could change their lives, too. But the more she thought about it, the more her excitement twisted into something else.

The thought of them with you—of any of them touching you, experiencing your closeness, seeing the look in your eyes that had been meant for her—left a sour, unsettled feeling in her chest. She imagined your hands on them, imagined you laughing with them, and it made her stomach clench with a sharp pang of jealousy she hadn’t anticipated.

Her heart pounded, and she felt a fierce possessiveness rising within her. This was different; what you shared was hers. The mere image of anyone else sharing in the same closeness made her skin prickle. She shifted, tightening her hold on you almost instinctively, her fingers curling against your chest as she tried to suppress the surge of emotions.

“Actually… maybe not,” she muttered, almost to herself, her voice tinged with uncertainty as she gazed up at you.

You raised an eyebrow, catching the sudden shift in her tone. “What happened to wanting to tell everyone? Didn’t you say you wanted to help people feel what we’ve felt?”

She bit her lip, her cheeks flushing slightly. “I do,” she stammered, glancing away. “I just… I don’t think they’d get it—not yet. And maybe not them.”

You chuckled softly, amused by her possessiveness, your eyes glinting with teasing curiosity. “Oh, so now you don’t want to tell them?” you asked, a smile playing on your lips. “Weren’t they your ‘closest friends’ a second ago?”

Her face grew warmer, and she huffed, shifting uncomfortably as she avoided your gaze. “It’s just… they didn’t understand the book at all,” she muttered, her voice quieter now. “And besides, I… I don’t want—”

You tilted your head, still smiling as your fingers traced gentle patterns along her back. “You don’t want what?” you asked, your tone soft but teasing. “You don’t want them to know about me?”

A small, frustrated sound escaped her as she buried her face against your chest, mumbling, “I don’t want them to… try anything.”

You chuckled, finding her protectiveness endearing. “So you don’t want anyone else getting too close?” you teased gently, your fingers brushing through her hair.

“It’s not funny,” she grumbled, her cheeks hot as she sulked against you. She sighed, glancing up at you, her voice laced with worry. “What if they’re curious? What if they want to know what it’s like with you?”

The laughter rumbled softly in your chest, and you wrapped your arms around her, holding her close. “Minjeong, you’re overthinking this,” you murmured, stroking her hair. “They don’t need to experience it with me specifically.”

But her mind couldn’t let go. She imagined them asking you questions, seeking the same closeness that had been so deeply personal to her. Her pout deepened as she looked up, her voice quiet but insistent. “But… what if they wanted to try it? What if they wanted you?”

Seeing the worry in her eyes, your expression softened. You brushed a strand of hair from her face, letting your hand linger on her cheek as you held her gaze. “They’re not you,” you said simply, your voice steady and sincere. “What we have… it’s special. No one else can have that.”

Minjeong felt her heart flutter at your words, but a part of her still sulked, her brow furrowing as she clung to you a little tighter. “I just don’t want to share you,” she mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper. “Not with anyone.”

You leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, and your voice was warm as you spoke. “You don’t have to. I only want you, Minjeong. You’re the only one I want.”

She let out a soft sigh, nestling closer against you, her tension easing slightly. “But what if they do get curious?” she murmured, almost to herself, her voice filled with a hint of lingering protectiveness. “I know how they are… they always want to try things they don’t understand.”

You chuckled again, finding her jealousy both adorable and sincere. “Minjeong, I promise no one’s going to get between us. If they want to know what we’ve found, we’ll explain it together. But you’re the only one I want to share it with like this.”

She looked up at you, a pout still lingering on her lips, though her eyes softened. “You’re sure?” she asked, her tone almost childlike, her fingers playing with the hem of your shirt. “Because I don’t want you to change your mind later… I don’t think I could handle it.”

You gently cupped her face, looking at her with steady, genuine warmth. “I’m sure,” you whispered, your voice sincere as you met her gaze. “Minjeong, I don’t want anyone else. What we have is ours. No one else can even come close.”

A small smile began to spread across her face, and she felt her possessiveness slowly fading, replaced by a warmth that made her cheeks flush. “Okay,” she murmured, though a hint of playfulness glinted in her eyes. “But just so you know, if they do try anything, I’m not sharing.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Good to know. But trust me, they’re not going to get the chance.” You pulled her closer, your arms wrapping securely around her, reassuring her with the warmth of your touch. “Besides, I think it’s kind of cute how protective you are.”

She grumbled, rolling her eyes, though she couldn’t hide the smile that tugged at her lips. “Well, you better get used to it,” she muttered, snuggling deeper into your embrace. “Because I’m not going anywhere. And I don’t plan on letting anyone else get anywhere near you.”

A laugh escaped you, and you leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “That’s perfectly fine with me,” you murmured. “I’d be happy with just you by my side.”

Finally feeling at ease, Minjeong let herself melt against you, feeling a bit silly for her jealousy but incredibly reassured by your words. The tension and uncertainty that had simmered beneath her feelings now softened, melting away as she realized the depth of what you had both discovered. It was something so much bigger than either of you alone—something that the world had long forgotten.

The patch was supposed to protect humanity from its own vulnerabilities, to mute the wild unpredictability of desire, of connection. It had promised a life of control and purpose, of efficiency and calm. But in shutting out the power of feeling, it had left behind a vast emptiness, a numbness that had become so normalized that no one had even realized what they were missing.

But now, she understood the beauty of that vulnerability, the fire of human connection that couldn’t be controlled or contained. Every touch, every shared breath, every heartbeat reminded her that being human wasn’t something to manage or tame. It was messy and consuming, unpredictable and deeply, deeply real. It was finding peace in another’s arms, feeling the thrill of closeness, and, yes, even feeling possessive and protective of the person she wanted most.

Minjeong looked up at you, her gaze warm but serious. “I don’t think I could ever go back to the way things were. Not now that I know what it’s like… to feel everything so deeply. To be connected to you like this.” Her voice was soft but steady, filled with a quiet determination. “It’s like I’m finally… alive.”

You held her closer, your expression filled with a tenderness that needed no words. “I feel the same,” you whispered. “I don’t want to go back either. And maybe we don’t have to. Maybe we can be the ones who bring back what everyone’s lost. Show people what it really means to be human.”

In the quiet warmth of the room, as you both held each other, Minjeong felt the weight of that purpose settle into her heart. What had begun as a curiosity, a glimpse into forgotten history, had turned into something so profound, something that connected her to the core of her own humanity. It wasn’t just love she felt—it was a fierce commitment to the truth you had uncovered together.

“We’ll start slowly,” she murmured, her voice calm but filled with conviction. “One step at a time. Maybe people will be afraid, maybe they won’t understand… but we’ll show them. We’ll show them what we’ve found.”

You nodded, and your hand found hers, fingers intertwining as a silent promise. “Together,” you said, your voice steady.

As the night deepened, the two of you lay there, wrapped in the knowledge that the connection you shared was precious, rare, and undeniably real. It was the beginning of something new, something powerful. And as Minjeong drifted off in your arms, she knew that whatever lay ahead, you would face it side by side, carrying the flame of a rediscovered humanity—one that pulsed with raw, unfiltered feeling and a love that no patch could ever silence.

You had both rediscovered what it meant to be human, and together, you would awaken a world that had forgotten.

[porcelian]

HOW HE LOVES | d. grayson & j. todd | 0.7k

SYNOPSIS: how do dick and jason, respectively show their love for you?

ANON: Hi! Can you please write headcanons 'how he loves' for Dick and Jason like you did for Damian? Thanks <3 <3 <3

A/N: tysm for the request <3 first time writing for dink and that was fun.

✹ ꕀ NAV. MLISTS.

DICK GRAYSON:

WONDERWALL: Dick is utterly captivated by you, unable to escape the gentle pull you have on him. His thoughts naturally wander back to you, no matter where he is or what he’s doing. The flower shop across the street from his apartment reminds him of the way you smile when you see fresh blooms. The warm cup of coffee in his hand brings to mind your laugh shared over countless café visits. Even the melodic song playing on the radio seems to echo your voice, leaving him lost in the memories of moments spent together. Every part of his day feels touched by you, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

BUTTERFLIES: For a man as confident and experienced as Dick, his reaction to you is a mystery even to himself. Why does he suddenly lose his words when you're around? Why does his heart race, his breath hitch, and his usually steady voice falter? He’s never understood the cliché of “butterflies in the stomach” until now, but with you, it’s as if they’ve taken permanent residence. And strangely, he doesn’t fear them. On the contrary, he treasures the fluttering chaos you bring into his life, embracing the vulnerability you stir within him.

TO THE WORLD: While he might be bashful in your presence, Dick’s shyness vanishes when it comes to showing you off. He takes pride in being with you, in letting the world know that he’s yours and you’re his. His touch is constant—an arm resting around your shoulder, fingers threaded through yours, a warm hand resting lightly on your waist. In his eyes, you’re a treasure he’s lucky to have, and he makes sure everyone knows just how grateful he is to be with you. His actions are both a promise and a declaration: you’re the center of his world.

SACCHARINE: Dick’s love is a sugary-sweet devotion that knows no bounds. It’s in the gentle kiss on your forehead that wakes you in the morning, the perfectly prepared breakfast waiting for you—your favorite, of course. He anticipates your every need, from packing your lunch to knowing your schedule better than you do. His phone lights up with a special ringtone just for you, and his heart skips a beat every time it does. Throughout the day, he sends you little messages, checking in and reminding you how much he adores you. He loves giving you gifts, whether it’s your favorite snacks, a handwritten letter, or flowers—sometimes a vibrant bouquet that brightens the room, other times a single bloom tucked into your bag with a sweet note. And when the day is done, he’s there, waiting with open arms to welcome you back home, where you belong.

JASON TODD:

PROCESS: Jason’s love is a journey—slow, steady, and deliberate. It unfolds one step at a time, built on the foundation of mutual trust and understanding. At the start, he wrestles with unfamiliar feelings, trying to push past his instinct to hold back. But you teach him patience, reminding him that boundaries are just as vital as vulnerability. With every shared moment, every quiet conversation, he learns to open up, to let you in. The path may be long and winding, but the bond you create is worth every effort, a reward neither of you takes for granted.

REVERY: Jason’s life is a constant storm, weighted by responsibilities and the ghosts of his past. Crime Alley, his vigilante work, and the fragile threads of family ties often leave him tense and restless. But with you, he finds something rare: peace. In your presence, his defenses soften, his shoulders lose their rigidity, and his gaze takes on a gentleness that’s reserved for you alone. Your touch steadies him, your voice soothes the chaos in his mind. You are his haven, his reprieve from a world that rarely gives him rest.

THE ONE: For Jason, you aren’t just someone he loves—you’re his everything. In a crowded room, his eyes find yours first. His hands instinctively reach for you, seeking the comfort only you can provide. Your name is always on his lips, whether he’s asking for you, talking about you, or just thinking aloud. No matter who else vies for his attention, you remain his first choice. From mundane errands to quiet nights at home, he wants you by his side, sharing in every moment, big or small.

NOT ONLY LOVERS: With Jason, your relationship goes beyond romance—you’re his best friend, his confidant, his partner in every sense of the word. You’re the one he can laugh with until his stomach hurts, the one he can stay up all night talking to about everything and nothing. You do almost everything together—spending lazy Sunday mornings making pancakes, your laughter filling the kitchen as you both fight over who gets to flip the next one. Grocery shopping turns into an adventure, with Jason pushing the cart while you sneak in snacks he pretends not to notice. Even mundane chores feel meaningful when shared, like folding laundry while arguing about who left their socks all over the floor. In these shared moments, Jason realized just how deeply you’ve woven yourself into his life—not just as a lover, but as someone who makes every moment brighter.

© ROBINSFILM ﹕ I do not give consent for my writing to be posted or used on any other platforms without my permission and proper credit.

[theuntoldstorythatneedsawriter]

Online Meeting 🖥 pt.2

Alexia Putellas x Reader

warning : fluffy 💭💗

pt.1

summary :

Over the following weeks, fans begin piecing together clues about your relationship, culminating in paparazzi photos of you and Alexia kissing, confirming the rumors.

The days following the interview were… strange.

At first, the questions from Alexia’s fans had been mild curiosity. Comments under the interview video ranged from playful speculation to downright conspiracies. Fans were, after all, a dedicated bunch—especially when it came to someone as beloved as Alexia Putellas. But neither of you could have imagined how quickly the rumors would pick up.

It started with screenshots. Sharp-eyed viewers had gone back to the recording, capturing the exact moment Alexia's expression changed. Her fleeting smile, the sudden softness in her eyes—it all became fuel for countless fan theories. Some were harmless guesses, others more pointed, as people tried to dissect who could possibly cause the Alexia Putellas to break her professional façade.

Then came the tweets.

*Okay but can we talk about how Alexia got distracted during that interview? Who is she hiding??*

*#WhoWalkedIn ?! I'm convinced Alexia has a secret partner 👀*

*Alexia smiled like that for someone off-screen...what do we think, fam?*

Fan accounts began circulating theories. Old videos, subtle interactions, and even past social media posts were dug up and scrutinized. Someone even pointed out how Alexia had been using the word cariño more often in interviews, but only when talking to someone off-camera or when she was distracted.

You and Alexia didn’t talk about it at first. It was easy to brush off the initial stir as just the nature of her fame. People were bound to overanalyze every little thing. But as the weeks went on, it became harder to ignore.

The two of you were spotted at a small café one evening, trying to keep a low profile. You sat across from her, laughing at a story she told about one of her teammates, and it felt just like any other quiet moment. But as you left, a fan had caught sight of Alexia. Despite her hoodie and sunglasses, she was still recognizable to the most dedicated. She signed a quick autograph, and you both hurried off.

You thought nothing of it until the next morning.

Photos of Alexia at the café began circulating online, and while most fans focused on her casual outfit or her rare public outing, a few of the eagle-eyed ones noticed something else—you. The photos were grainy, taken from a distance, but they were enough. One fan even circled a reflection of your face caught in the window and posted it side by side with blurry images of you from other occasions, piecing together what looked like a shadow of the truth.

Pinterest : sadlittleheart

*Who is this girl with Alexia? She’s been spotted with her "before".*

It wasn’t just the café outing either. Someone found an old photo from months ago, where you and Alexia had been standing too close at a team dinner. The initial photo hadn’t caused any waves back then, but now, with the added context of the interview slip-up, people were connecting the dots.

And then, it happened. The moment neither of you had anticipated but also knew was inevitable.

You and Alexia were walking through a park late one night, trying to escape the bustle of the city. The moon hung low in the sky, casting a silver glow over the quiet paths. It had become your ritual—those late-night walks where no one would bother you, where she could just be Alexia, not the icon or the footballer, but just your girlfriend.

But as you neared a secluded part of the park, Alexia pulled you into a brief kiss, her hand gently cradling your jaw. It wasn’t long, just a sweet, private moment that would have gone unnoticed—except it didn’t.

The next morning, headlines broke across sports and gossip sites alike.

Paparazzi Shots of Alexia Putellas and Mystery Woman Kissing!

The photos were splashed across every major platform, your faces blurred in some, clear as day in others. The intimate kiss, the way her hand lingered on your cheek—it was all out there now, the quiet truth of your relationship exposed.

Fan accounts exploded.

*GUYS IT'S HER. THE GIRL FROM THE INTERVIEW.*

*Alexia has a girlfriend?? She’s so cute with her omg!!*

*We knew it! The way she smiled during that interview—this makes so much sense.*

The shift in public perception was sudden. Where before it had been speculation and conspiracy theories, now it was a full-blown revelation. Fans flooded Alexia’s social media, some supportive, others surprised, but the general consensus was one of excitement. People loved that Alexia seemed happy, even if some had been taken aback by the suddenness of it all.

As the storm swirled around you, Alexia stayed calm. She always did. One morning, you woke up to find her scrolling through her phone, reading some of the more amusing comments with a soft smile.

“They’re really invested,” you muttered, peeking over her shoulder.

Alexia chuckled, leaning back into you. “They always are. But as long as you’re okay…” She turned to you, her eyes searching yours.

“I’m okay,” you assured her. “Are you?”

“I am,” she replied, pulling you closer. “Now that it’s out there… I think I like not having to hide anymore.”

You smiled, feeling the weight lift from your shoulders. The world might know now, but in this moment, none of that mattered. It was just you and her, and that was more than enough.

pt.3

[annie-writesstuff]

Come here, kitty, kitty! - Sylus

Summary: The Evol cats have had enough of Sylus and his mistreatment, so this time, instead of giving him cat ears and a tail, the punishment goes further as he is completely turned into a Caracal cat.

Warnings: Long fic. Cat puns. Fluff - Literally and figuratively lol. Reader literally adopts a lynx for one night :p. Reader is economically poor (I'm sorry.) Reader is not MC. If anyone ever reads this, I sure hope you enjoy :3!

Part Two

This was simply... Catastrophic.

Sylus feels a hint of regret because his actions led him to that position right then. Pawing and hissing at the Meow's Café door.

It doesn't budge an inch.

Not even his Energy manipulation Evol was going to be useful, simply because it had been supressed whenever those evil Evol cats had turned him into that... creature.

He doesn't have access to his phone either, not in that form, and therefore has not contacted either Luke and Kieran or Miss Hunter.

Sylus feels, perhaps for the second time in his life, helpless. He is aware his fur would protect him from the cold, but that does not mean he wants to be alone and out during the approaching snow storm.

He sits down in front of the double glass doors. Someone is bound to go in or out anytime soon, right?

Right?

It seems his calculations were wrong.

How long had he been sitting there? It must have been close to an hour. Why are there no clients?

He stands up, unconsciously stretching, before looking around. Well, he wasn´t going to get anywhere if he simply sat and waited.

His paws quickly take him down the road. It is uncomfortable. He isn't used to the frozen sidewalk, but he pushes through, until he finally sees a person standing in front of a food cart.

Whatever they are selling smells absolutely delicious. Since he hasn't eaten in hours, his normally luxury palate is craving for whatever this person is selling.

Slowly, he approaches, and lightly paws at your black snow boots.

¨Hm?¨ You look down, your half eaten chicken skewer in your hand as you spot a... very unique looking cat. "Oh! Hi there!" You smile, crouching down and gently booping his nose with your index finger. "Are you hungry?"

Sylus hesitates.

What the hell is he doing? He is no stray cat.

But... he is indeed hungry, so he simply looks at your hand expectantly, his vermilion eyes not moving away from the juicy looking meat.

Your giggle reaches his ears, and he bristles in response.

How... irksome.

Carefully, you take one piece, blowing on it a few times, before offering it to him on your palm.

His nose makes quick work, and after a few sniffs, he easily devours the entire piece. Not bad.

He looks at you, awaiting another piece.

To his surprise, your oblige, feeding him until only the stick of the skewer was left. He licks his snout and whiskers.

He jumps away when your hand comes closer. Now, just what do you think you are doing?

Immediately, you retreat. "Sorry." You say, as you stand up. You pay the vendor, before waving at the cute cat.

Wait.

Where are you going?

Sylus immediately follows. He was not going to be outside during that snow storm. You had fed him. He is now your responsibility, and he isn't about to let you leave without him.

So naturally, he stalks after you.

You stop, and turn. A soft smile adorns your lips. "Ah. Coming back for more?" You tease playfully.

If cats could look annoyed, this cat sure does.

Chuckling, you bend down, offering your hand palm up and letting him smell you.

Fine. Just because it seemed you were his only ticket out of this situation. He moves closer, looking as dejected as his feline features allow him as you gently pet his head.

He couldn't say he hated the sensation. Unlike some other people he had encountered earlier when he had first transformed, you are actually being mindful of how sensitive his ears are.

For a brief moment, he allows himself to feel at ease. Not that he is ever going to admit it, but he is enjoying the attention, if anything by the purrs leaving the very back of his throat as he nuzzles into your hand. It's warm and soft.

When you stop petting him and continue walking, he follows again.

You look up at the sky as you hasten your pace. Snow is starting to fall... You don't want to be caught in it. So you jog down the street.

The pitter patter of paws makes you turn again.

Before the cat could react, you scoop him up, tucking him inside your coat, zipping it up so only his head is visible. You smile at the somewhat dumbfounded look the cat gives you. But he doesn't protest nor tries to escape.

This is a bit embarrassing. He had never been caught so off guard before!

He can feel the erratic beating of your heart agaisnt his small body as you hurry towards where he supposes is where you live.

His red eyes scan the dilapidated building you are approaching.

This has... got to be a joke.

Purrhaps he has chosen the wrong human to take care of him.

It is too late anyway, as you walk inside. The walls look like they had seen better days, as you go up the stairs, a lot slower than your brisk walk earlier.

There isn't even an elevator?

Pathethic.

You huff and pant, and his eyes scann the state of this floor. Yeah, it looks equally old.

You fumble to get your keys out, and push open the door. "Home at last!"

You throw the keys over a bowl, though you miss and instead hit the table. Not that you care much as you get rid of your boots and snow-covered coat, gently placing your newly found freind on the floor.

Sylus looks around curiously. He is used to luxury and opulence wherever he visits, so this is a new for him. How can you live in such... place?

The fake wooden floor creaks under your every step, the wall´s paint is falling off, and it is almost as cold here as it is outside!

You approach a small sized screen, which Sylus soon realizes is actually a heater when you press a button to turn it on. A fake image of a fireplace shows on the screen as the small machine starts to work.

You must've been sleeping in front of that heater. He can see a sleeping bag, blankets and some plush toys placed in front of it.

He can only assume that the apartment heating is no longer working. That isn't surprising considering the state of it.

The sound of pans and clatter of utensils catch his attention, and he quickly rushes to the kitchen. He sits at the entrance, wondering if you are cooking something.

You had given him the thing you had been eating earlier, and that makes him feel a bit guilty.

In his defense, he was hungry, and although he could've hunted something, he was still at the heart of Linkon city. It would've been very troublesome to try to get food for himself.

The smell of meat and spices reach his nose. His whiskers move as he smells the air.

Well damn, the aroma was delicious. He is still hungry.

He watches as you sing whilist you mix whatever food you are cooking - he guesses meat and veggies?

This is an atipical sight for him. And he can't help but observe, his heightened senses glued to your every carefree move.

Many questions run through his head. What led to this? Why are you living in that old apartment?

Are you happy?

That last question catches him by surprise. It isn't normal for him to care about someone he just literally met. He guesses being in such a vulnerable position makes him see things differently.

He is used to every interaction being an exchange. He never works for free - nobody he knows does.

Yet... you had fed him and brought him to your home... in exchange of what?

He can't give you money or power. Not while he is a cat, at least... But you don't know who he really is, so it is obvious you aren't looking for something akin.

¨C'mon. Let's eat together!" You call as you walk towards your makeshift room in front of the heater.

His legs quickly carry him to you. He settles comfortably over the sleeping bag and the numerous blankets, the gentle light coming from the heater screen makes him feel... cozy.

"I read that Caracal cats are carnivores". You say, as you grab some meat strips from your bowl and place them in a smaller plate you had brought from the kitchen with you. "And you also eat veggies. They say carrots are good for your vision, so I cooked you some!"

That is very... Thoughtful.

He looks at the plate of food.

It isn't a five star meal, but... You made it for him, and he isn't going to let it go to waste.

He eats with gusto, his tail unconsciosly swaying.

After you return from the kitchen after taking the dishes to the sink, he wonders what kind of routines you have.

He would've called you boring every other time, but he finds it fascinating just how simple your lifestyle is.

You don't live in a castle or mansion, but you give him such pretty smiles, he could've been easily fooled.

You spend a few minutes in the bathroom, and come out wearing your pajamas. He can see they are a bit old, the color of the fabric is fading, and there are a couple holes in it. But they are clean and fresh. He can still smell the lingering scent of laundry detergent and softener.

You sit down on the sleeping bag, and yawn once, twice. You put your phone over a small holder, and put on some cartoons while it charges. "Ready for bed, Red?"

Red?

Is that his 'new' name?

Ah. The color of his eyes. That must be it.

He huffs as you pick him up and crarefully craddle him against your chest.

"Oh? You have a scar? What happened to your eye?" You ask softly, your thumb gently skimming over it.

As a reaction, he hisses, biting you hard enough to draw blood. His fur standing up as he meows threateningly.

And when he calms down, he looks at you, his small chest heaving up and down as he realizes what he did.

He hadn't meant to...

Sylus half expects you to kick him out, let him go.

But instead, you hug him closer. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to scare you."

Your voice is so sweet and gentle, and he doesn't understand your reaction at all. He looks at you, his vermillion eyes searching for any hint of dishonesty.

But he finds none.

Guilt revolves in his stomach as he looks at your finger, the clear mark of his fangs marking your skin. He licks at the small puncture wounds, silently apologizing.

The scar in his eye is a touchy subject for him. He's aware he overreacted - or better said, instinctively reacted, but that was no excuse. He never wanted to hurt you.

Your eyes stare at him, and once again you smile. "It's okay. You don't have to apologize. I shouldn't have been so careless."

You lie down on your sleeping bag, and tug the blankets around your body, still hugging the Caracal to you. "I hope you are comfortable." Your grip on him is loose, so that if he wants to move, he can.

"Have a goodnight, kitty." You press a tiny kiss to his wet nose, before easily drifting off to sleep.

He remains awake for a couple more minutes. He takes in your features now that he has you so close. You're not wearing make up, but there's a light blush on your cheeks. And your slightly messy [h/c] hair cascades over the side of your face. Overall you look peaceful.

Sylus wishes... he can feel like that too.

He curls closer to your chest, hoping to see if he can steal a bit of normalcy from your life and bring it into his.

He sleeps so soundly, that he doesn't realize is daytime... and the cat's Evol has worn off - majority of it, at least.

He still conserves his cat ears and tail, but he's defeinitely back to his human form.

When he wakes up, he immediately notices what has happened. You look a lot tinier than you did last night, and the sleeping bag doesn't fit all of him anymore. "Hm."

He wonders how you'll react once you wake up and see that you have a naked man-cat (Cat-man?) holding you.

A deep chuckle escapes his lips. "This will be very interesting, won't it, Kitten?"

[dc-marvel-life]

These Are My Ladies (Natasha Files) - The Moment

Pairing: Natasha x reader

Summary: The first time you realize that the Black Widow is your soulmate

Word Count: ~1.5K

A/N: Now I made These Are My Ladies awhile ago not thinking many people wanted more, but there was some interested. I am going to writing this series. If you have any ideas, let me know or if you have another

These Are My Ladies Natasha Files Wanda Files Carol Files Kate Files Yelena Files

Deadman’s P.O.V

After enduring a whirlwind of missions over the past month, finally, I found myself on a well-deserved break, returning to my New York apartment with hopes of relaxation. However, upon arrival, relaxation was the last thing I felt. Neglect had turned my once orderly space into chaos, with clothes strewn about and dishes piled high.

Though cleaning wasn't a chore I minded, I discovered I had exhausted my cleaning supplies. With a resigned sigh, I added a mental note to my list: a trip to the store was imminent. Before venturing out, a pang of hunger reminded me of my empty fridge.

"Great," I muttered, closing the fridge door empty-handed. Grabbing my keys, I headed out, deciding to make a day of it and treat myself to a visit to my favorite café. Nestled in a quiet corner, it was my sanctuary, known only to a few, offering not just excellent food but also solitude.

As I entered the café and placed my order, my mind drifted to the soothing distraction of a Sudoku puzzle. But my moment of peace was disrupted by a familiar figure outside—the Black Widow.

"Shit," I whispered to myself, snapping my book shut. Whether she had spotted me or not was unclear, but I wasn't about to stick around to find out. The Avengers had never caught me, and I had no intention of allowing today to be the first.

Grabbing my food, I hastily exited the café, disappointed that my plans for relaxation had been thwarted once again. Determined to salvage what remained of my day, I made my way to a nearby park, seeking solace amidst the tranquility of nature.

Finding an empty bench, I settled down, exhaling a sigh of relief. With my food in hand and Sudoku book reopened, I lost myself in the challenge of the puzzles. Time slipped away, and before I knew it, I had devoured my meal and completed several Sudoku grids.

Glancing around the park, I spotted Black Widow in the distance, a coffee cup in hand. "Damn," I muttered, slipping away unnoticed, scanning for any other Avengers lurking nearby. Surprisingly, the coast seemed clear, prompting a sense of unease.

Nevertheless, I pressed on, knowing I had one final task ahead—the grocery store. After gathering my necessities and disposing of my trash, I made my way to the nearest store, pushing a cart as I ticked off items on my mental checklist.

Midway through my shopping, a strange sensation washed over me. Glancing around, my eyes met Black Widow's. 

As we look eyes at each other, time seems to stand still, and the whole world around us fades away into a blur of insignificance. At this moment, it was as if the universe conspired this day to happen to bring us together, our souls are bound together to make an unbreakable bond. 

At a single glance, there was a flow of an electric current surge between us, igniting a fire that burns deep within my heart and I know that she feels it too. This sensation is unlike any other feeling I ever felt. Just a second ago, she was one of my biggest enemies and now there is an unwavering certainty that she is my other half. There is a sense of belonging and understanding with us and we haven’t even said a word to each other yet. 

Many people told me about how it felt to meet your soulmate, but this feeling is nothing how they describe it. It is even better. At this moment, I knew without a shadow of a doubt that I just found my soulmate. 

After what felt like an eternity, the world comes back into focus and we are back in the grocery store. 

“Who put out a hit on me?” Black Widow says and drops her basket. Why would that be the first thing she says? Didn’t she feel the connection too?

“Don’t give me that look,” I guess I was making a funny face so I tried to go back to normal, “I have noticed you since this morning in the cafe. I have been trying to get away from you all day, but you are damn too good at your job” Natasha says and makes a face. 

I smirked at her complimenting me on how good I was at my job even though I wasn’t working. 

“I know that you know what is happening here” I say getting closer to her and she takes a few steps back, so I stop. 

"No, this can't be happening! You can't be my soulmate! I don't deserve a soulmate," she murmured, a hint of vulnerability creeping into her voice.

Her words struck me like a blow to the chest, the weight of her rejection crushing my spirit. Yet, even as my soul ached with the pain of her denial, I couldn't help but feel a sense of empathy. After all, hadn't I too grappled with feelings of unworthiness?

Summoning what remained of my resolve, I sought to reassure her. "I promise you, there's no hit out on you. If there were, you'd already be dead. They call me Deadman for a reason," I quipped, attempting to lighten the mood.

"You wish," she countered with a wry chuckle, the tension between us palpable as we stood in silence, each grappling with our own doubts and insecurities.

"Let me prove you wrong. Let me show you that I am the right soulmate for you, and that you do indeed deserve one," I implored, extending an invitation that hung precariously in the air.

After what felt like an eternity, she relented, her acceptance met with an internal cheer. "Perfect. I'll cook for you. What do you want for dinner?" I inquired eagerly, already envisioning the possibilities.

"I don't know; surprise me," she replied, and with the exchange of numbers, our tentative truce was sealed.

—

With only a few hours until Black Widow's arrival, I threw myself into a frenzy of preparation. Cleaning, cooking, and setting the table consumed my attention, each task executed with meticulous care.

Yet, amid the chaos, I sought to impart a touch of sentimentality, crafting a bouquet of paper roses as a token of my affection. It was a small gesture, perhaps, but one imbued with meaning—a symbol of my earnest desire to forge a connection with her.

As the appointed hour drew near, a knock at the door heralded her arrival. I took a moment to compose myself before opening the door, my breath catching at the sight of her.

"Come in, come in. I'm glad you came," I greeted her warmly, taking her jacket and ushering her into my humble abode.

"Wow, nice place. And it smells amazing in here. What did you make?" she remarked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

"I made homemade chicken pasta with red sauce, Caesar salad, and cheesy garlic bread," I replied, hoping to impress her with my culinary skills.

"That sounds delicious," she murmured, a hint of appreciation evident in her tone.

Seating her at the table, I poured us each a glass of wine, savoring the moment as we embarked on this unexpected journey together. With each bite, I watched her closely, silently gauging her reaction to my cooking.

As we sat in silence, the clinking of cutlery against plates the only sound in the room, I couldn't help but observe her every move. With bated breath, I awaited her reaction to the meal I had prepared with such care. And when I saw the subtle flicker of pleasure that crossed her features, I couldn't suppress the smile that tugged at my lips.

Halfway through the meal, our pace slowed, and our gazes locked in a moment of shared understanding. It was then that I felt compelled to break the silence, to address the elephant in the room—the improbable twist of fate that had brought us together as soulmates despite our tumultuous history as adversaries.

"Look, I know this is weird for both of us. After all, we've been enemies for so long," I began, my voice tentative yet determined. "But I want to make this work. I've always dreamed of finding my soulmate, and now that I've found you, I don't want to let this opportunity slip away."

I reached out to take her hand, a gesture of reassurance, only to have it swiftly withdrawn. The sting of rejection pierced my heart, a painful echo of the hurt I had felt earlier in the store.

Undeterred, I rose from my seat, retrieving the bouquet of paper roses I had crafted with such care. "I made these for you," I explained, offering her the delicate blooms. "I know they're not real, but they'll never wither or fade. They'll be a constant reminder of the connection we share, a symbol of the enduring love I have for you."

Taking a moment to steady my nerves, I continued, "I understand that this won't be easy, given our pasts. But I'm willing to put in the work, to prove that we're meant to be together."

As she accepted the flowers, a flicker of emotion crossed her features, and for the first time since our encounter began, I dared to hope that perhaps, against all odds, our love might blossom into something beautiful and enduring.

This is the moment where our relationship starts.

[cool-fancier]

Bound By Desire

Synopsis: Bada surrenders to your desires as you explore her body, igniting a passionate encounter between you both.

A/n:uses nickname of ‘princess’ fluff to smut .The characters and especially Bada and events in this story are entirely fictional. Any resemblance to real-life individuals or situations is purely coincidental.A bit rushed

Word count:1.9K

It was on a crisp autumn day, the gentle breeze carrying the scent of fallen leaves. You found yourself in a quaint café, seeking solace in the comforting embrace of a warm cup of coffee. Lost in your thoughts, you sipped your drink, observing the world around you.

As you glanced up, your eyes met Bada's, who stood near the counter, studying the menu. There was an immediate connection, an unspoken understanding that passed between you two. Intrigued by her presence, you gestured towards the empty seat across from you.

"Would you like to join me?" You asked, a gentle smile gracing your lips.

Bada's eyes sparkled with curiosity as she accepted the offer, settling into the chair. You both exchanged pleasantries, engaging in light conversation that gradually deepened. You discovered shared interests, passions, and an appreciation for art, music, and dance.

As the hours flew by, your connection grew stronger. You shared stories, dreams, and fears, gradually peeling back the layers of our souls. It was a slow dance of getting to know one another, each conversation revealing more about your hopes and desires.

Days turned into weeks, and your encounters became more frequent. You embarked on adventures together, exploring the city's hidden gems, visiting art galleries, and immersing ourselves in the beauty of nature. These shared experiences deepened your bond, allowing you to see different facets of each other.

One evening, as you strolled through the park, the setting sun casting a golden glow over everything, Bada turned to you, her eyes filled with a mix of nervousness and anticipation.

"Y/N, I have to confess something," she began, her voice soft yet determined. "I've been feeling a strong connection with you, a connection that I can't ignore. I find myself thinking about you constantly, and I'm drawn to your presence. It's as if we were meant to cross paths."

Her words resonated deep within you, validating the feelings that had been blossoming in your own heart. You reached out, gently taking her hand in yours , your touch conveying a sense of comfort and reassurance.

"Bada," you replied, your voice filled with warmth. "I feel it too. This connection we share is something special, something I've never experienced before. I want to explore it, to see where it leads us. If you're willing, I'd be honored to be your girlfriend."

A smile bloomed on Bada's face, her eyes shining with joy. "Yes, Y/N," she said, her voice filled with a mix of excitement and vulnerability. "I would love for us to be more than just friends.”

From that moment on, your relationship blossomed with a gentle and deliberate pace. You took the time to truly know each other, nurturing an emotional connection as you discovered the intricacies of your thoughts and aspirations. Your physical intimacy, too, grew naturally over time, as you both explored the depths of passion and desire.

Each day brought you closer, deepening your understanding and love for one another. You cherished the simple joys, the laughter, and the shared moments of vulnerability. Your relationship became a tapestry woven with trust, respect, and a genuine appreciation for the unique individuals you were.

As the seasons changed, your love continued to evolve, adapting to the challenges that life presented. You both faced hardships and celebrated triumphs together, providing unwavering support and encouragement. The connection remained steadfast, an anchor in the stormy seas of life.

Looking back, you are grateful for the gradual development of your relationship. It allowed you to build a solid foundation, one rooted in trust, emotional intimacy, and a profound understanding of one another. Your love story continues to unfold, each chapter filled with depth, passion, and a profound appreciation for the journey you embarked upon that fateful autumn day.

— — — — —

You had been away for what felt like an eternity, consumed by the demands of work and the chaos of life. The distance between Bada and you grew, and the ache of longing for her touch intensified with each passing day. But finally, the day had arrived. You stood outside her door, your heart pounding with anticipation.

As you knocked, your mind raced with memories of our passionate encounters, the way her body molded against yours, the taste of her lips, the feel of her skin beneath your fingertips. The door swung open, and there she stood, a vision of beauty and desire, clad in her sweatpants and baggy T-shirt.

Her eyes widened in surprise, a mix of excitement and relief washing over her face. "Y/N," she breathed, her voice filled with longing. "You're finally here."

You couldn't hold back any longer. You surged forward, your lips crashing against hers in a searing, passionate kiss. Your bodies pressed together, and you could feel the heat radiating between the two of you. The taste of her, the familiar scent of her skin, it all flooded your senses, igniting a fire within you that had been dormant for far too long.

As your lips danced, your hands roamed freely, tracing every curve and dip of each other's bodies. The hunger and need for one another were palpable, almost suffocating. You broke the kiss, gasping for air, your eyes locked with hers.

Her lips lingered on your, ascending each step, lost in the fervor of her kiss, guiding you to your shared room.

"Not yet, princess," you whispered against her lips, your voice filled with a mixture of desire and restraint. "I want to savor you."

Bada's lips parted, a soft moan escaping her as she threw her head back against the pillows. The sight of her surrendering to the pleasure you could provide sent a jolt of electricity through you. You trailed kisses along her jawline, nipping at her sensitive skin, before making your way down to the curve of her neck.

Your hands moved with purpose, exploring every inch of her body. You revealed in the softness of her skin, the way it yielded beneath your touch. You could feel her heartbeat quicken against your fingertips, matching the rhythm of your own racing pulse.

Her breathing grew ragged as you made your way lower, your lips and tongue leaving a trail of fire along her collarbone, her chest, her stomach. You dipped your fingers beneath the delicate fabric, feeling her heat radiating against your skin.

Bada's plea was barely a whisper, but it reverberated through the room, fueling the fire that consumed you both. "Y/N, I need you."

You couldn't deny her any longer. You ran a finger through her folds, just to tease her, reveling in the way she arched against your touch. "Oh, princess, I can feel how much you need me," you murmured, your voice filled with a mix of satisfaction and longing.

She begged again, her pouty pink lips forming the most enticing plea. "Please," she whimpered, her voice laced with need.

A wicked smile curled on your lips as you leaned in, your breath warm against her ear. "You look so pretty when you pout, princess," you whispered, your voice a low, seductive murmur. "But I have something better in mind."

With that, you trailed your fingers through her folds again, feeling her growing wetter and wetter in anticipation. Her hips instinctively bucked against your hand, seeking more contact, more friction.

Your own desire burned brightly within you, but you wanted to draw out this moment, to build the tension until it was almost unbearable. You withdrew my hand, leaving Bada panting and needy, her eyes pleading for release.

"Not yet," you said firmly, your voice laced with a hint of dominance. "I want to play with you a little longer."

The frustration and longing danced in her eyes, but she nodded, a mix of anticipation and resignation written across her face. She trusted you completely, knowing that you would lead her to the heights of pleasure.

You continued to tease her, your fingers tracing patterns on her inner thighs, skimming just past where she craved your touch the most. You reveled in the control, in the power you held over her pleasure. Bada's gasps fill the room as you continue to pleasure her, your fingers moving with deliberate precision. Her body arches against your touch, aching for more. You lean in, capturing her lips in a searing kiss, your tongue dancing with hers as you intensify your movements.

A surge of possessiveness courses through you, fueling your desire to claim her completely. You quicken the pace of your fingers, feeling her walls tighten around them. Each stroke brings her closer to the edge, and you can sense her unraveling beneath you.

"You're mine, princess," you growl, your voice dripping with dominance. "No one else can make you feel like this."

Bada's eyes flutter open, the intensity in her gaze mirroring the passion that courses through your veins. "Yes, Y/N," she breathes, her voice laced with submission. "I'm yours, body and soul."

With those words, you feel a surge of power rush through me, emboldening you to push her further. You add a third finger, stretching her, and her moans turn into a symphony of pleasure. Her hips buck against your hand, seeking more friction, more release.

You can feel her approaching the precipice, teetering on the edge of ecstasy. You lean down, capturing one of her pert nipples in your mouth, swirling your tongue around it, while your fingers continue their relentless assault.

"Y/N!" she cries out, her voice filled with a mix of pleasure and desperation. "I'm going to come!"

You pull away, denying her release. "Not yet, princess," you whisper, your breath warm against her ear. "I want to taste you first."

Her eyes widen with anticipation as you position myself between her thighs. The scent of her arousal fills the air, intoxicating you. You lower your head, your tongue flicking against her swollen clit, eliciting a sharp intake of breath from Bada.

You tease her, alternating between slow, languid licks and intense, focused sucking. Her hands grip the sheets, her body writhing beneath you as you bring her to the edge of ecstasy over and over again, denying her release until she's begging for it.

"Please, Y/N," she pleads, her voice desperate. "I can't take it anymore. I need to come."

You smile against her sensitive flesh, savoring the taste of her arousal on your lips. "Beg for it, princess," you command, your voice dripping with dominance.

Her eyes lock with yours, her desperation shining through. "Please, Y/N," she pleads, her voice filled with raw need. "Let me come. I'm yours. Only yours."

The sight of her surrendering to you, her vulnerability laid bare, sends a surge of possessiveness through you. You gave her what she craves, your tongue working tirelessly against her clit as you plunge two fingers back inside her, matching the rhythm of your movements with the intensity of your sucking.

Bada's body tenses, her back arching off the bed as a wave of pleasure crashes over her. She cries out your name, her voice a mix of ecstasy and surrender, as her orgasm ripples through her.

You continue to lavish attention on her sensitive core, prolonging her pleasure as she rides the waves of her release. Finally, when she's spent, you ease off, your lips trailing kisses along her inner thighs.

Bada's chest rises and falls rapidly as she tries to catch her breath. She looks at me with a mixture of awe and adoration, her eyes shining with unspoken emotions.

"Y/N," she whispers, her voice filled with love and gratitude. "That was... incredible."

You crawl up the bed, wrapping your arms around her and pulling her close. "You're incredible, princess," you murmur, nuzzling against her neck. "But… I'm just getting started."

[captain-hawks]

shinichiro sano + books + purple

(congratulations on 1k! 💖)

(thank you so much<3!!!!)

shinichiro sano x reader

c: fluff, book store meet cute

“Got any books on bikes?”

Attention pulled away from the book propped open beneath your hand, you slip a bookmark between the pages and glance up. The man standing across from you on the other side of the counter sticks out like a sore thumb amongst the bookshop’s overflowing shelves and kitschy armchairs, the large, lazy feline lounging beside the register lifting her head to appraise his appearance.

Messy black hair flops over his forehead, despite his futile attempt at carding a hand through it as he offers you a lopsided grin, the thumb of his other hand hooked in one of the belt loops of his jeans with a lighter lodged between his fingers. A leather jacket is thrown over one of his shoulders, a few dark smudges breaking up the stark white cotton of his t-shirt and lingering across his knuckles as well. And with that, you’re certain he doesn’t mean bicycles. 

The cat hisses.

He laughs, and he reaches out to pet her, despite the menacing swat of one of her furry, orange paws.

Shinichiro Sano is far softer than he looks.

And he makes a habit of it—coming into the bookshop.

Coming into the bookshop and disrupting all flow of rational thought from your brain, your mind losing focus the moment you hear the now-familiar sound of his bike coming down the busy street, heart fumbling in your chest without fail the moment the rumble of the engine cuts out. 

Shinichiro has to know—that you haven’t the slightest damn clue which of the various books on motorcycles and auto mechanics nestled away in the reference section are the best reads. They’re topics that are entirely out of your depth, those shelves an entire universe away from your favorite well-worn paths in the romance and fantasy aisles. 

But you do the same dance every time—

He smiles, he waves.

He ambles up to the register, busying himself with haplessly trying to win over the cat if you’re occupied with another customer.

(Several cat toys have mysteriously appeared over the past few months.)

And then he vaguely rattles off the name of some book he’s looking for, shooting a boyish grin over his shoulder as he waits for you to come and guide the way like he has no idea where he’s going. Like he doesn’t end up in the same exact aisle every single time he comes in. 

Shinichiro Sano is far softer than he looks, because despite the loud bike he parks out front and the bold tattoos that wind up and down his arms—

—despite the way his heavy black boots scuff against the carpet—

—despite the fact that he disrupts the shop’s pleasant scent of books with the distinct, heavy smell of motor oil—

—despite the fact that you’re more than a little certain at this point that he’s got history with Tokyo’s motorcycle gang scene—

—he opens each book like it’s a precious artifact.

(You’ve found yourself distracted by the sight of his long fingers carefully turning pages more than a few times.)

He wipes his shoes on the little welcome mat at the door.

He pets the cat.

He brings you tea from your favorite café two streets over.

And maybe it’s ridiculous, how you think perhaps you’re a little bit in love with this man already.

—

It’s that goddamn purple book that does it, in the end.

The book’s an eyesore—a thick tome bound in a gaudy shade of purple, the spine embellished with an equally offensive sprawl of lime green text. 

It’s some odd collection of new age poetry, one that you’ve contemplated tossing in the garbage bin time and time again in the five years that you’ve worked at the shop, given that it’s clearly destined to live a life in shelved purgatory. (It would be a merciful sendoff.)

It’s a quiet Sunday afternoon when you spy the book nestled away in the wrong aisle on the wrong shelf, staring at you tauntingly beside an otherwise aesthetically-pleasing row of classics. 

A very high row of classics. 

And naturally, rather than taking the time to fetch a stool, you opt for your tiptoes and outstretched fingers instead, hand coming up empty as you predictably lose your balance and stumble backward—right into something solid.

Someone.

Shinichiro’s far warmer than you expected.

It’s all you can think about as you hear the familiar sound of his hushed laughter behind you, the sound reverberating through his chest.

“And yet you always yell at me for doing the same thing,” he huffs in amusement, sending a shiver jolting down your spine at the intimate feeling of his breath hitting the shell of your ear. 

“The stool is across the store,” you protest, trying and failing to keep your voice steady despite the onslaught of emotion frying the circuit board of your brain at the feeling of his arms wrapping around you.

He’s—

He’s reaching for the book.

One hand outstretched, he asks, “Which one?”

His fingers flutter lazily in the air, like he has all the time in the world.

Like he’s not pressed up against you in an empty aisle, his hair tickling the side of your face as he leans forward. And for once, it’s not the scent of books that pervades your senses as you stand before the shelves, nor is it the whiff motor oil that incessantly clings to him.

It’s the light, pleasant fragrance of detergent that envelopes you, the smell gentle and calm like an early summer breeze. 

(Softer than he looks.)

There’s no use in hiding the hitch in your breath.

“The purple one,” you whisper.

“That’s the ugliest book I’ve ever seen.”

And then you’re laughing.

You’re laughing and his hands are on your shoulders and he’s spinning you around to face him and his smile is so soft and he’s looking at you so intently your heart might just burst and—

“I love it when you laugh.”

And he’s kissing you.

An ugly purple book lies forgotten on the shelf and Shinichiro tenderly takes your face in his hands and kisses you. Again. And again.

And again.

[lightlycareless]

call this the unofficial ending of my highschool series a.k.a what would happen on the last day of their studies lol it doesn't mean I'm going to stop writing about this au, I just wanted to set this down :>

warnings: fluff. naoya is emotional. he's matured I guess.

happy reading!

You knew this day was coming; every student knew so, strived for it since enrolling. Continuously prickling at the back of their minds as schooldays went by, attending class after class, preparing for exam after exam, to one day leave all this behind.

But just because everyone expected it, didn’t mean you’d share the same sentiment.

At least not when… Naoya was the first one to do so.

Naturally, Naoya being a year older meant that he got to experience lots of things before you academically speaking, such as the famed exchange events, school trips to various cursed energy infected areas, his very own first mission as a sorcerer! And of course…

Graduation.

In just a matter of weeks, Naoya will be leaving jujutsu high, go back to his home city in Kyoto and start his new life as a sorcerer.

In other words, you’ll stop seeing him.

At least as frequently as you did; you still hoped to keep in contact with your boyfriend even after he graduated.

But the lapse between his departure and the moment you’ll be able to see him again was difficult fathom, giving you so much pain… it almost felt like he was leaving you for good.

You tried to act like it didn’t affect you, remember that you knew this was bound to happen (with you as well, in due time) and be greatly supportive of his future endeavors—but it was far too emotionally demanding for you, and it wouldn’t take long before your usually cheerful, silly attitude began to dim, quieting down to the point everyone could no longer ignore it.

Especially, your boyfriend.

“You’ve been awfully quiet, Y/N.” Naoya would finally confront; he thought that by treating you to your favorite café, followed by a fun evening at the arcade, would distract you. It sure helped him to do so, nothing but overworked and stressed for preparing everything for his graduation and following responsibilities as a new sorcerer, both for the community and his clan.

But what’s the purpose in him being happy, if you’re being absolutely miserable?

“Oh, I’m just—I was just thinking about something, that’s all.” You lie, and Naoya notices such immediately.

“I thought we were past lying.” He frowns, you sigh.

“…I wasn’t… not entirely.” You admit.

“What’s wrong?” Naoya asks, eyes softening. “Did I do something wrong?”

“Why do you always assume it has something to do with you?” You chuckle. “I mean, it has but… not like that.”

“What is it, then?”

Upon taking a deep breath, you suddenly realize the tears pooling around your eyes, evidence of how much this emotional turmoil was really hurting you; but even then, you do your best to hold them back, appear confident, before continuing speaking.

“It’s—It’s your graduation.” You quavered. “How it’s just a few days away.”

Naoya doesn’t need to hear much beyond that to know exactly what you’re referring to.

“I’m not excited about it either.” Your boyfriend confesses. “But it’s not like I’m not going to talk to you anymore after I leave.”

“…How do you know that?” an unspoken insecurity reveals itself.

“Are you serious, Y/N?” he retorts, offended—hurt.

“I’m sorry.”

Naoya sighs.

“I’m going to miss you, a lot.” He continues. “You were the only one that made my days bearable, I can’t imagine you not in my life anymore.”

“…What’s going to happen after you leave?” you dared ask.

“I’m going to return to Kyoto, start my work there. Probably take on more responsibilities as the heir now that I’m officially a sorcerer…”

“It sounds like you’re going to be busy.” And thus, unavailable. Just one of the worst-case scenarios you imagined…

“Nothing a few visits to Tokyo can’t fix.” He attempts to reassure you by wrapping his arms around you and hugging you, you sigh.

“When are you even going to have the time for that?” You fret.

“I’ll manage. I always do, don’t I?” Naoya smirks, and you let out a breathy chuckle; there’s no doubt in your mind of his capabilities. “Let’s not think about that, my love. Instead, why don’t we make the best of these last moments we have together? I wouldn’t want the last days with my princess to be all gloomy.”

But of course, that was always easier said than done, for whenever the two were together, partaking in the usual activities they liked to do between classes or the weekends, you couldn’t help but somberly note…

“This is probably the last time we’re going to do this.”

From watching the cherry blossoms, sneaking to his dorm (or vice versa) to watch a movie, eat lunch together, or slipping a kiss here and there, careful enough to not be seen by a fellow (irritating) classmate, yet desperate enough to let the other know how much they wanted to be together…

All of those things will be gone in a matter of days, and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

No amount of reassurance, promises, or reminders that your relationship with him wasn’t over, just his constant presence around you… could ease the sorrow in your heart.

Unless there was one last thing to be considered, Naoya’s conclusion to the whole matter, at first an effort to leave everything in order, comfort your emotions before departing, eventually becoming his biggest desire one realizing the depths of this new, necessary step for this relationship.

It would happen on the day of his graduation, after the ceremony where all students would be celebrated for their academic efforts, wishes for a flourishing career, amongst other peculiarities, whether for good or for worse—depending on who they referred to.

You’d watch the whole ordeal, as expected, cheering for Naoya the moment he stepped into the podium to receive his diploma; and while you were still sad that he won’t be around as often, that didn’t stop you from feeling happy, proud to see him recognized as the accomplishing sorcerer you knew he was always meant to be, eager to see where the future takes him.

Even if it meant being on the other side of the country.

“So… how does it feel?” you murmur, meeting up with Naoya in one of your usual spots, just behind the administrative building, after the ceremony was over. “You know, officially being a sorcerer and all that…”

“It kind of feels the same.” Naoya pouts, cheeks slightly flustered. He always liked the recognition you gave him. “If anything, it’s a bit more liberating. Feels like I can do anything now.”

You chuckle, glad that he’s feeling confident.

“But I guess it also comes with more responsibilities.” He groans. “Like I didn’t have enough already.”

“Well, it’s just a step closer to becoming heir.” You attempt to encourage him, and it works for a bit, given the way he smiles, softly taking your hands and squeezing them.

After a few moments of silence, you speak again.

“When… when are you leaving?”

“Today, later in the afternoon.” Naoya sadly admits. “After I pick up all my things—I’ve already got the plane ticket as well.”

“Oh.” You looked away, disappointed, as if hoping he’d magically postponed his departure for another day. Or never. “I guess… I won’t see you tomorrow anymore.”

“I should be at the estate by then.”

“I see…”

Naoya frowns at the same time his heart tightens.

“I’m going to miss you so much, Naoya.” You say, wrapping your arms around him and leaning into his chest. “Be sure to call me whenever you can!”

Telling him this is the right moment.

“I will, but before I do that… I wanted to give you something to remember me by.”

Your eyes widen, glistening at the prospect behind his words.

“Are you going to give me your button?” you chirped. “…I hope so. You better not be giving it to anyone else!”

“Like who?” He chuckles. “You know there’s no one else for me but you.”

You blush.

“Either way” Naoya flusters, looking away. “…that’s not what I wanted to give you. I mean—something else besides that.”

“Oh” you blink. “Something… more?”

Naoya nods as he swallows, face turning hotter as he swiftly shoves his hand onto his left pocket and takes out a small black box. Your eyes widen, agitated as the assumptions of what could be inside the container begun to flash across your mind—heart skipping a beat when settling on that one.

Coincidentally, the right one.

“Naoya—” you breathe when he finally opens the box, revealing a thin gold band, incrusted with small diamonds—the epitome of luxury, yet dedication, a sight that almost made you faint, barely remaining conscious through sheer curiosity, or more like expectancy.

“Y/N” he says, gently grabbing your left hand and sliding the ring onto your finger. And while the sensation of the metal sliding against your skin couldn’t be anything less than simple, mundane even, its significance was what allowed your mind to imprint the feeling on your senses, to remain in your heart for the rest of your life.

Just like your feelings for him.

“I enrolled at this school because I wanted to try something different; stray away from the boring traditions of my family, or maybe because I wanted to prove myself capable of being more than what the clan thought of me.” Naoya begins. “However, it wouldn’t take long before I grew disillusioned by it, tired of the stupidities of my classmates and teachers alike. And yet… no matter how much I wanted to walk away, there was always something telling me to stay. To hold on a little longer.

The answer eluded me for the longest, until I finally figured it out.

Fate was telling me to wait, because I was meant to meet you.

These past few years are easily the best ones I’ve had in my life. And while I’m still young, I can easily say that you’ve taught me so much, far more than I might ever amount.

I never thought myself capable of feeling such happiness, love, or even deserving of it, until you came along.

And now, I can’t imagine a life without you. I don’t want to. I need you.

It’s because of that, I’ve decided to do this.

With this ring, Y/N, I promise to always be by your side, regardless of what happens in the future. If I’m on the other side of the country, if we hadn’t seen each other for days, weeks even, or… you’re no longer here.

My heart solely belongs to you, and there’s nothing that would make me happier than to spend the rest of my life with you.”

“Naoya—are you—are you asking me to—” you breathe; is this truly happening?!

“No.” he says, before looking away and stammering. “I mean—I—I would like that further down the road…but, when you’re ready too. For now, I’d like you to have this ring, as a reminder of my love and commitment to you. And when the time is right…  something—something more.”

“This is—This is much better than that silly button.” You sniffle, tears sliding down your cheeks as you smile.

“You can have that too.” Naoya smiles. “I just wanted you to also have this; thought it’d be nicer.”

“It is.” You giggle, caressing the thin band on your finger and admiring the way it sparkled against the light; Naoya never spared luxuries when it came to you, to the point it almost made you feel undeserving…

But at this moment, you couldn’t dwell on those feelings. Not when you could instead relish in Naoya’s love for you, your love for him.

How it all started with a simple allure, intrigue to know more of the mysterious, a bit aloof heir of the Zen’in.

The kid that always appeared to have a problem with the world, yet something in your heart told you there was more than what met the eye. That he was not the troublesome young man everyone painted him to be, asked you to be away from.

Had you known then that you’d end up being in a relationship with him, you wouldn’t believe it. Maybe even believed it impossible…

But looking at how you felt towards him back then… it made sense. Perhaps you already knew, always did, deep inside you, on a very subconscious level, that he was meant to be your soulmate.

It’s what allowed you to see beyond the surface, understand him, made you fall in love with him…

And what once represented something so painful, the seeming absence and perhaps rift in your relationship, now gave you hope for something greater, far more beautiful: the promise that the two will always be together, long past the time the two were at school, and into what both hoped a home, a family.

Reaffirmed with a simple phrase.

“I love you, Naoya.”

Naoya smiles, taking your lips with a soft kiss.

“I love you too, Y/N.”

If we got the valentine's day naoya, he would've 100% asked you to marry him lol but since this is a bit more mature naoya, the one that got to mature with you... he's a bit more sensitive :>

Also, because he wants to buy a house for the two to live in. He's wholly committed to fulfill his responsibilities as your husband, meaning: everything you need to live comfortably, like a house with as many rooms (he wants kids so at least an extra two), gardens, pools, idk, that you want, a car, money, and of course, the freedom of not having to work. Unless you want it, but he'll feel a thousand times happier (and calm) that you aren't. We'll iron out the details later.

Anyways, 🥺 I don't know what else to say, Naoya at that point has fallen in love and wants to live the rest of his life with you. asjklasgkljasgklagslkagsgas the ultimate ending for all slice of life needs between our favorite couple.

Well, off I go to do other things.... mainly finishing more requests haha.

Thank you for reading, take care!! and hope to see you soon ❤️❤️❤️

[bee-the-loser]

₊ ⊹☼ BRINGING THE SUN AND STARS ☼⊹ ₊ ──────────────────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ─────────────────── ₊ ⊹☼ Pairing: Wen Junhui x reader ₊ ⊹☼ Synopsis: Jun enters both your cat cafe and your life on a random Thursday afternoon one day, leading to a connection bigger than both of you initially would have expected. ₊ ⊹☼ Genre: Cat cafe au, fluff, sunshine boy Jun, more reserved reader ₊ ⊹☼ Word count: 1,275 ₊ ⊹☼ Warnings: None that I can think of ₊ ⊹☼ A/N: Hope you all like this, my brain decided it was time to write and somehow this came into existence :D ──────────────────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───────────────────

Maybe it was the way the sunlight was shining through the blinds of your small cafe “A Cats Comfort” or maybe it was the way his own smile seemed to rival the sun’s rays, but you found that you couldn’t help the corners of your mouth twitching upwards whenever Jun came around. He seemed to radiate warmth that filled anyone and everyone with infectious positivity, allowing joy to flourish. You never could have imagined that a few months ago, one afternoon would change your calculated every day routine.

It didn’t seem like anything special at first, just a regular Thursday afternoon, but looking back now you can’t help but feel like the world came to a halt for the moment where Wen Junhui walked into your café. He was curious of the new environment you observed as he entered, eyes scanning his surroundings until they inevitably fell onto you. That’s when you first really started to pay attention to him as a person, his cat like eyes locking onto yours and seeming to shine with something you didn’t have the time to determine before he came bounding up to the counter.

A little shyly at first, but gaining confidence the more he spoke, he let out a little ramble about how he discovered the place. “Hi there, I was wondering around the area looking for somewhere to grab a bite and then I saw this little place hiding away and couldn’t help but be enticed by the idea of coffee. Then I saw the cats and just needed to come inside, so I was wondering if I get an iced americano and pet some of the cuties about.”

You couldn’t help but let out a little giggle at the end that shocked yourself as you were typically a bit more stoic in nature, but something about this boy let your guard lower even in your first moments. “Sure, you can take a seat anywhere, treats are in the jar on the counter to the left and I’ll get started on your drink. Could I get a name, Sunshine boy?”

“Uh, Wen Junhui, just Jun works actually.”

“Thanks, I’ll bring it over when it’s ready.”

He blushed for a moment before retreating towards the other counter and you turned around to get started. The moments you took to make the drink seemed to stretch out and feel like eternity, when all you really wanted to do was observe the boy you couldn’t help but feel rivalled the sun. You were in for an even bigger shock though as upon walking over you couldn’t help but come to a halt as you took in the scene in front of you. It seemed his charms even worked on the feline species, as Bandit, the notoriously hard to win over older cat had been comfortably positioned himself lounging across Jun’s lap.

“I see you’ve made a friend there, huh Bandit, your normally rather specific with your choices. He hasn’t taken to anyone other than me before, you must be special then Mister Wen.”

“Oh, uh you can call me Jun, but he just needed a little scratch and love before he climbed right on top of me.”

“Well, I trust he has good tastes, here’s your coffee, I’ll be over there if you need anything…”

“Wait! Uh, would you be free to keep me company, no issue if you can’t, I just thought that since we’re the only ones in here...”

“Jun, it’s okay, I’d love to, give me one sec, to put some of this stuff down and then I’ll come sit down.”

You both spent the next two hours appreciating the company and conversation that felt natural to the both of you, before he eventually left with promises to return when possible.

And return he did.

Every week Jun would stumble into your little abode and spend time with both you and Bandit, becoming closer as you got to know each other. It wasn’t any surprise for you, when you inevitably started to fall for the boy you called sunshine and spent most afternoons either texting or hanging out with. He was just impossible not to like, which is why you were sure nothing would ever come from it, as a guy like Jun surely must already have someone who could give him the stars. You were content with admiring from afar as long as he continued to shine.

Eventually your lives started to overlap and intertwine even more, when you started to meet each other’s friends and spend weekends curled up watching shows at one of your apartments. Saturday nights becoming movie nights for the two of you, with occasional interruptions from the new combined friend group. Your close friends Seungkwan and Seokmin had really hit it off with his dance partner and roommate Soonyoung, when they first met one day at the café. As a result, they often burst through your door to spend time hanging out as a group followed by Jun and his other two roommates: a photographer and art enthusiast by the name of Xu Minghao and a university student by the name Lee Chan, with a strange nickname of Dino. Your week becoming much more enjoyable with the additions of them all into your life and you can’t help the smiles that now seem to come out whenever they’re around.

As it turns out though, you weren’t the only person who had a hobby of observing, as Minghao soon caught onto your little crush and liked to lovingly tease you about it in private. Your friendship allowing room for playful teasing and banter between the two of you, with a greater bond developing after you discovered your shared love of artwork. Although, he also became your biggest supporter in your little crush, which you did struggle to understand at first. You couldn’t comprehend how he thought you were worthy of bringing sunshine boy happiness and love. You were sure he deserved someone better than yourself, but Hao wouldn’t hear it and even pushed forward with encouraging you to confess. After then he would go out of his way to distract the others while you all hung out allowing the both of you some time to yourselves.

The result of which led to a moment on a warm, summer Saturday night, where the two of you found yourself sat watching the sunset on the local riverbank. The orange and pink hues highlighting the scene and making it feel like something out of a movie. Your bodies naturally coming to become close to one another until you were basically leaning on Jun while your eyes never left the sinking sun.

However, he couldn’t help but stare at your face as it lit up with the different hues that painted patterns across your features, his focus flickering to your lips more often than could be considered friendly. In the end, he couldn’t help himself. Maybe it was the sinking sun or the ways your eyes seemed to sparkle as you turned to face him that gave him the confidence.

Whatever it was though, he can’t help but thank the universe as your lips finally connect and the world jumps back into motion. His entrance into your life stopping your universe and allowing you time to run towards hope and happiness, before your kiss restarted the universe as your chase comes to an end. Your sunshine boy had brought it straight to your door.

And as the light disappears beneath the earth and the night encompasses the sky, you realise maybe you could give him the stars, just like how he gave you the sun.

──────────────────── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───────────────────

[moonmaiden1996]

Silent Persuit Chapter Four

River’s plan unfolded flawlessly, each encounter crafted to feel accidental, as if the city itself had conspired to place him along your path. He’d settled himself into your surroundings so seamlessly that he became part of the backdrop—an unassuming figure who simply seemed to belong in the coffee shops, bookshops, and stations you frequented. If he had once been a stranger, he was now a familiar one, woven into the rhythm of your life in such a way that his presence no longer registered as unusual.

On mornings when he knew you’d pick up breakfast from the bakery, he’d arrive just minutes before you, idly perusing the selection. As you entered, he’d give a slight nod, lifting his coffee in a friendly, familiar gesture that seemed to say, Good morning. You found yourself nodding back, a smile playing on your lips—a routine so natural it felt like something you’d shared with him for years.

In other places, too, River kept that careful distance. Like that rainy afternoon in the crowded bookshop, where he waited just out of sight, pretending to flip through a novel until he heard your soft footsteps. Then, with timing perfected by practice, he would step back and “accidentally” bump into you. When he turned around, surprised and apologetic, you’d look up, recognise him, and share a quiet laugh, surprised yet somehow reassured by the coincidence.

At the Saturday market, he’d linger near a stand you wouldn't be interested in but one that you would have to pass, glancing up just as you strolled past. His gaze would meet yours for a brief moment, and there it was—that polite nod, a quick exchange of familiarity, like two regulars bound by the same rhythm. Sometimes he’d murmur a simple “hello” as he passed, nothing more, always light and easy, never more than the casual comfort of a familiar face.

Each time you saw him, you felt something shift. At first, you brushed it off, dismissing the encounters as the city’s typical coincidences. But soon, the pattern emerged. You began to expect him in certain places, glancing around out of instinct, almost eager to spot him. The mere thought that he might be there sparked a strange sense of excitement.

Over time, it even began to feel like you were the one always noticing him, starting to watch for him before he’d even appear. The first time you caught yourself doing it, you laughed it off, but the thought lingered: what if you were the one keeping tabs on him? And each time you tried to let it go, there he was again, as if reading your mind, already seated by the window or passing through a door. He was always just a step ahead, so casual and unassuming that you couldn’t bring yourself to question it.

The tipping point came one evening as you stepped off the tube. There he was, just a few steps ahead of you, his presence almost imperceptible, yet somehow reassuring. You hesitated, pausing to let him catch up, and when he did, he gave you a gentle smile—a look that seemed to say, I know you’re tired. Without a word, he walked on, leaving you to continue on your path. But the warmth lingered, deepening the inexplicable connection between you.

And then, as suddenly as he had appeared, he began to retreat. The mornings in the café, the nods exchanged at the market—each occurrence started to thin, a calculated absence that left you noticing his lack of presence. When you didn’t see him, a quiet ache grew, a faint longing to spot him, even just in passing. Without realising it, you began searching for him, missing the silent reassurance of those familiar nods and smiles.

It was an intricate balance he’d crafted, and by the time you noticed, you were already pulled into the fabric he’d woven. River had become part of your world, a piece of the city you hadn’t known you wanted until he was no longer there. And in the stillness he left behind, he knew you’d come to see that he was more than a stranger—he belonged. Soon he would be right where he wanted to be— with you, in every sense of the word. 

xxx

“Why the fuck did you drag me all the way back here?” Lamb groaned as he flopped into his armchair, the fabric creaking under his weight. He let out a rather impressive belch, the sound echoing through the otherwise quiet room. The others had long since gone home, the perfect place to have this meeting, where no one else would overhear. “I’ve got better things to do with my spare time than sit around and converse with you, like taking a shit,” he grunted, lighting another cigarette and staring across at Louisa with a look that suggested he wasn’t remotely interested in whatever she had to say.

“Look at these,” Louisa replied, shoving a series of photographs across the coffee table toward him, the glossy prints catching the light.

“I know you two have grown close, but I think following Cartwright with a camera is a bit overkill. I really can’t be arsed with the issues this is gonna bring up with HR,” he mumbled, barely glancing at the images, his mind already conjuring excuses to avoid the impending drama. He knew what this was, of course he did. But it was something he would much prefect not to bring Lousia into, it would save the headache.

“Just look at the pictures!” Louisa insisted, her voice rising with frustration. “For the past six months, River has been following this woman. Six months, Lamb! At least that was before I picked it up.”

Lamb rolled his eyes, his irritation palpable. “So what, River’s been wandering around London chasing this bird because he can’t figure out how to talk to her? He probably doesn’t think he’s good enough for her. And he’s right—she’s got a decent pair and a nice face, and he’s a lanky piece of piss.”

“God, Lamb, take this seriously! River has been stalking her, and now he’s started dropping himself in places where he can meet her, bump into her. It’s not just some silly crush anymore!” Louisa’s voice shook with urgency as she slammed her palm on the table, making the photographs rattle.

“And?” Lamb leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest defiantly. “Do I look like Cartwright’s caretaker? I’m not getting involved in this mess. It’s not my problem.”

“Do I look like I give a shit? If you won’t do something, I will!” Louisa snapped, rising abruptly from her seat. Her chair scraped against the wooden floor as she stormed out, leaving the door swinging behind her.

Lamb sagged deeper into his chair, exhaustion creeping into his bones like a slow poison. He felt old now, too old for this type of shit. The dim light in the room seemed to mock him, casting shadows that mirrored the weight of his thoughts. He exhaled slowly, letting the smoke curl into the air. “Oh River, River, River. You wanted to be just like the old bastard; well, congratulations, you prick.”

He ran a hand over his face, feeling the stubble that had begun to grey. Lamb glanced at the photographs Louisa had left behind. The first few showed River from a distance, hidden in shadows, a look of determination plastered across his face. In the next, the woman—young, beautiful, and seemingly unaware of the chaos surrounding her—moved through her day. 

“Christ, what a mess,” he muttered, rubbing the back of his neck as he contemplated the inevitable storm brewing ahead. River was going to get himself into trouble, just like his grandfather before him, and Lamb was the only one who knew, he supposed he’d have to step up, whether he liked it or not. “Just like old times,” he smirked wearily as he took one last drag of his cigarette. 

I honestly could hold myself back from writing Lamb, he was really daunting to write but I am proud of how he came out.

Please let me know what you think! Next chapter will be heating up as River's fantastic plan is about to be detrailed by a new player then means he has to go to plan b.

As always, comment, like, leave a request. xx

[azyexia1]

Starry Serenity (Astarion)

Summary: You (Tav) & Astarion go on a gate within the city of Baldur's Gate.

Word Count: 378.

Pairing: Astarion & Gender Neutral reader.

Warnings: None this is just a cute little fluffy scenario :3

-

In the bustling city of Baldur's Gate, a sense of serenity had settled over the once chaotic streets. Astarion, once a vampire trapped in his own darkness, had achieved a newfound freedom. No longer bound by his vampiric nature, he and Tav, the valiant leader who had stood by his side through thick and thin, found themselves in an unexpected moment of tranquility.

On a mild evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the city, Astarion nervously adjusted the collar of his shirt. He stood outside a quaint little café, its tables adorned with flickering candles that danced with a gentle breeze. He had asked Tav out on a date, and though he had faced enemies more terrifying than he could count, asking Tav had been a feat that rivaled any battle.

Tav arrived, a smile gracing their features as they spotted Astarion waiting. Their eyes met, and Astarion felt his heart skip a beat. Tav's presence had always brought him a sense of calm, and yet, in this moment, he was acutely aware of how much they meant to him.

"Hey," Tav greeted, the warmth of their voice melting away Astarion's nerves.

"Hello," Astarion replied, offering a half-smile that he hoped concealed his jumbled emotions.

They were led to a cozy corner table, where the soft glow of candles illuminated their faces. The menu lay between them, but their gazes remained locked on each other. Astarion cleared his throat, breaking the silence.

"Ahem, I must confess, I'm not quite as familiar with dining establishments that don't involve draining blood," he admitted with a sheepish chuckle.

Tav chuckled in response, their laughter like a melody that eased Astarion's nerves. "Well, lucky for you, this place doesn't serve blood. Just delicious food and drinks."

Astarion relaxed into the conversation, and as they shared stories and laughter, he found himself opening up in ways he hadn't before. Tav listened with genuine interest, their eyes never leaving his face. It was a feeling of vulnerability he had never experienced as a vampire, and yet, he realized he wouldn't trade it for anything.

After dinner, they took a leisurely stroll through the moonlit streets of Baldur's Gate. Astarion couldn't help but steal glances at Tav, who seemed to glow in the soft illumination. They stopped by a small park, where a clear view of the starlit sky unfolded above them.

"It's beautiful," Tav said, their gaze fixed on the celestial display.

Astarion looked at Tav, his heart swelling with a mix of emotions he couldn't quite put into words. "Indeed, it is. But you, Tav, you outshine even the brightest stars."

Tav turned to him, their cheeks tinged with a blush. "You have quite the way with words, Astarion."

He reached for Tav's hand, their fingers intertwining effortlessly. "Only when I'm speaking the truth."

As they stood there, hand in hand, beneath the canopy of stars, it felt as if the world had faded away, leaving only the two of them. The scars of their pasts had shaped them, but in this moment, they were just two individuals connecting in the simplest yet most profound way.

In the city that had seen its fair share of darkness, Astarion and Tav had found a light that illuminated the path ahead. Their date was a new beginning, a chapter written in the tapestry of their shared journey. And as they gazed at the stars, they couldn't help but wonder what other adventures awaited them in this unpredictable world.

-

Again, let me know if you have any scenarios you would like me to write about this gorgeous boy.

[kiatheinsomniac]

Feel free to reject this but how about Alucard with a reader that’s like Zhongli? (Non human but hides the fact they are a dragon, old, terrible with money, reminiscing about the past a lot, etc.)

☾ ⋆ﾟ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 / 𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: ooooo interesting! I'll go for Alucard who's aged to modern era for this one!

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒: Adrian 'Alucard Tepes

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: none, modern au

｡･:*˚:✧｡ adrian 'alucard' tepes

♡ when Alucard first met you, it was in a coffee shop. He was in the queue behind you and noticed how you patted down your body and rummaged through your bag before, embarrassed, telling the barista you had forgotten your purse. Ever the gentleman, Adrian had stepped in and offered to pay for your order. He asked where you were heading but turns out you planned on just sitting in the corner with a book and so he joined you, bringing out his own book from his bag. However, the two of you ended up doing very little reading and instead spent the time chatting with one another.

♡ what made you quickly win him over was the depth of your conversations as hours flew by like minutes in that little café. You'd talk about the past and how you longed to be a part of it and yet you held up a certain respect for the world as it is today too. But something about the way you spoke about the past resonated a bit too well with him. You spoke just like he did and he knew this his words came from living through the past. Were you truly human?

♡ he ended up asking for your phone number not your snapchat bc he's a gentleman and found it somewhat endearing when you took out a flip-phone and not a smartphone like he had expected. The two of you have lots of really long phone calls until you see each other again. He just loves how you're full of so much information and you'll share it all so readily with him, going off on tangents all the time to teach him things and, even when it's something he already knows, he won't stop you from speaking because he just loves when you talk like this.

♡ of course, the two of you are bound to find out each other's true natures soon enough and I can imagine Adrian finding out about you first. Perhaps you had gone for a movie night at his place, just a little date where he had cooked dinner and you had brought along a dessert for the two of you to share while you went through some old films together. You fell asleep on his shoulder and he managed to move you so that you were resting your head on his lap instead, pulling a blanket over your body and his own blanket around his shoulders as he leaned back in the sofa to rest without waking you. When he woke up, you were still asleep and as he groggily threaded his fingers through your stop hair, his hand was stopped by- horns? You had three sets of draconic horns facing backwards from your head, each one shorter and lower than the one above it. Your hands faded out to colours opposing your skin tone, your lips were parted slightly to reveal fangs and puffs of smoke being released by each soft breath you let out and you felt so warm.

♡ Alucard had heard of dragons who could take on the form of a human before but he never imagined that he would meet one in this age. He knew that this was not the full extent of your true form, no, this was a strong glamour whose strength had faded with your unconsciousness. You were a great, powerful and undoubtedly old creature - just like himself - and you were beautiful as you rested upon his lap.

♡ naturally, you were in a panic when you woke, still under the assumption that Adrian was human and would be deeply disturbed or confused at your appearance. He was quick to hold you close and calm you down though, assuring you that - while, yes, he's surprised - this isn't anything he didn't know existed. He had always spoken in a low, quiet voice, his lips not moving too much and you had assumed that that was just the way he was but when he showed you his fangs to make you understand why he was so calm about this whole situation, you now understood this habit of his much better.

♡ the two of you would spend hours cuddled up together as you spoke about your pasts and who you truly were and Adrian couldn't help but hold you a little tighter to his chest. Dating you had been something nerve-wracking for him. It had been a long time since he had allowed himself to open his heart but he was far too lonely and decided that a mortal lifetime of love in his immortal life might be worth it to free him from his solitude. You could feel his shaky breath as he buried his face into your neck once all was said and done and the two of you simply sat in silence, could feel the build of tears in his bright eyes that prompted you to cup his face. You had nothing to worry about, he assured you, telling you that these were tears of relief to know that he had given his heart to an immortal like himself who would stay by his side.

☾ ⋆ﾟlike my work? why not: 

∘ buy me a coffee? ∘ join my taglist ∘ consider following/reblogging

🏷️@involuntaryspasms @writing-noah @signyvenetia @brideofalucard @noldorinpainter @asianbutnotjapanese @danielle-marie @yourfamilyfriendsatan

[banduckoot]

Enjoying idea's of your HeadCanons for NTeam, im curious N team what is idea for romantic Date to take their Crush's / Date on.?💘

~Steph 🐲

I think I've talked about this before (years ago, admittedly), but why not go for a round 2? A fresh start!

Cortex's idea of a perfect date is one where he manages to constantly impress and wow the heck out of his dating partner. Whether it's with the location he's taken them to, or with expensive gifts he might have for them, or with his vast intellect and natural charisma. Unfortunately, with his luck, he's likely going to embarrass himself a whole bunch no matter what the date is like or what plans he made. He is the multiverse's punching bag, so even if he takes his crush on a romantic stroll on Cortex Island's beach (don't mind the toxic waste) something ridiculous is bound to happen to him. It would crush him if his date laughed at him or rejected him, so if you're the one he's dating... BE NICE TO HIM. The poor man has suffered enough in life.

N. Brio doesn't usually trust most people enough to want to date anyone. But if he does find someone special enough, he's going to take them someplace as FAR away from Cortex as possible. Cortex loves ruining his life, and spoiling every happy moment he has, so if you end up on a date with N. Brio, it's going to be someplace out of the way where Cortex couldn't possibly find you, someplace cozy and intimate... like a café or a small restaurant... except knowing N. Brio's luck, Cortex will probably show up at some point anyway and humiliate N. Brio in front of you somehow. The best thing you can do in that case is tell Cortex to piss off. Not only will you win N. Brio over instantly, he's definitely going to include you in his plans to get revenge on Cortex... whenever he gets around to it.

N. Gin would absolutely take his date to a rock concert or a horror movie. A rock concert with him would be pure fun with plenty of headbanging and excited screaming. A horror movie, on the other hand, is the perfect opportunity for a makeout session, preferably in the back row of the theater. And if his date doesn't wanna make out, that's fine; horror movies are fun enough as it is, especially if someone is watching with you. N. Gin would probably be the most fun member of the N. Team to go on a date with.

N. Tropy would ask his date what their favorite time period was and take them there after scouting a perfect place and time in that era. You like medieval Europe? You'll probably watch a jousting competition together. Is ancient Greece more your style? Perhaps you'll attend a play. Or maybe you wanna see what the future looks like. Tropy can do that for you. His main goal, much like Cortex, would be to impress you, though he feels it won't take much to do so because he's just that amazing. If you can put up with his ego, you'll have an amazing time with him. Just don't piss him off or he might leave you stuck in the wrong era on purpose.

[keii-starz]

HWANG SEOHAN

DESCRIPTION

seohan is a clever, free-spirited, and cunning person who also happens to be a regular at serenity. he recently graduated university as a photography major. his father is the most famous/renowned fashion designer in the country, while his mother is an award-winning actress and model. his parents were never really there for him as a kid because they're always so busy, so the only adults who he had around him were the housekeeper and gardener his parents hired. however, whenever his parents were home, they'd dote on him a lot and show him a lot of love. he grew up learning to do most things by himself, and he doesn't like to be bound by the decisions others have made for him.

APPEARANCE

with dark, deep blue eyes that resemble the night sky, seohan has naturally wavy black hair that's usually styled and reaches just above his shoulders. he also has red highlights in his hair.

"LET'S STAY TOGETHER...FOREVER."

years before eunhyun, seohan had a lover he loved dear, but they were murdered, along with their whole family, by a mysterious serial killer who still hasn't been caught by the police. it seems like that family was the murderer's last victims because since then, there have been no signs that the murderer has killed anyone else.

because of this, seohan utilizes all his connections to make sure eunhyun is safe. even if hes the son of two of the most wealthy and famous people in the business world, it couldn't hurt to be more safe, right?

he's also very possessive over eunhyun, worried he'd lose him to someone else.

"WAS IT ME..? COULD I HAVE DONE ANY BETTER?"

the day before his lover died, he found out they cheated on him with someone else, and they got into a huge argument over it. he blamed himself for not being a better boyfriend. he didn't have the time to even start getting angry at them because that day, he was just sad and disappointed, and the next day, they died. because he loved them greatly, he was still mourning their death after two years (even though they cheated on him), until he finally decided to move on and met eunhyun a few years later. he doesn't blame himself for being a terrible boyfriend anymore. he just avoids thinking of the event. of course, he never gave up on finding the murderer, as he was worried there would be other victims the murderer would come after.

-he has a lot of connections (knows police officers, several celebrities, etc...)

RELATIONSHIPS?

-eunhyun's affectionate boyfriend

-jinhwan's childhood friend who's known seohan since middle school, their parents are close friends

-acquaintances with nari

FACTS !

bday: november 10th (scorpio)

age: 24 years old (ignore what the paper says, yes, I changed it 😊)

hobby (s): photography, piano, café hopping

-dislikes sweets, prefers bitter stuff

-favorite food/dessert: tiramisu cake

-high spice tolerance

-he learned a bit of acting from his mother, but never really decided to use what she taught him

@alexisomnias @the-banana-0verlord @officialdaydreamer00 @xxoomiii @casp1an-sea

[ynisreal]

wires (7) - michael afton x reader

author’s note: hello! thank u for all the love and sorry for the delay :P

summary: You and Henry talk. Michael and Henry make difficult decisions. You have to get back to work. (6k)

Chapter 7

"Here you go," Henry hands you the plastic cup with the hot drink you've chosen. After reading Michael's note, Henry offered you a ride home, but you insisted that you wanted to explain what had happened today, as soon as possible, so that your nightmare would finally end. Henry understood your motives, but insisted on bringing you to a quieter place, where the two of you could talk freely and without the noise of sirens or police officers talking loudly.

So now you found yourselves in a small local coffee shop, where there were only students with their books and the staff of the café. You thanked Henry for the drink, and took a small sip, feeling the small dose of dopamine that the hot drink provided try to rewire your brain. You were still in shock, but getting away from the establishment certainly helped you calm down. Henry was also good company, not pushing you to speak, just standing next to you and comfortably silent, waiting for you to take the initiative. It was good to be around someone as understanding as him at this time, despite the fact that you only met him twice.

"Take your time, I don't have a timetable for coming home," Henry says smiling fondly at you, "I know your head must be a mess now, so you can take the time to organize a timeline." You look at him, understanding what he meant. And it was true, your head was a mess before, but after telling and retelling the same story to so many people today, you can easily dictate the same speech you did to everyone else. However, with the adrenaline finally leaving your body after so long, you're out of energy. In those moments when your body is totally without motivation or initiative, sincerity and truth come to the surface, taking advantage of the lack of strength in your inhibitory control. That's why, at that very second, when your brain was so tired of controlling your actions, you say:

"I saw Noah's organs scattered all over the floor," your voice is strangely calm for the gravity of your speech. Henry's eyes widen. "I never thought I'd witness something like this, I've heard it on true crime podcasts or online reports, but it all seems so unreal until you actually witness violence like this," you continue, holding the cup with both hands, letting the hot liquid exchange heat with your cold hands.

"Yes," Henry replies, a soft tone in his voice. He understood well what you were talking about, after all, he never thought he would find the soul of his only daughter trapped in a puppet. It was an event that people only visualize in films or books, so he understood your shock now, what you thought was such a distant reality was closer than you imagined. Henry didn't comment on or interfere with your train of thought, letting you say what you wanted.

"I never thought about how I would die or when," you continue, your eyes downcast and slightly open, as if you were reliving the scene, "But, Henry, do you think I could die like that?" you ask, now staring at the man you've just met. Well, that's certainly not what Henry was expecting when he came to talk to you, but he knew the curse that this franchise carried was bound to cause some unpredictable events, turning people into monsters or survivors, defying all the laws of nature and even making the dead come back. Predictability was not present in Henry's life.

"I don't know, Y/n," Henry replied sincerely, letting his shoulders slump in defeat. He had no words of comfort for your situation, knowing that there was no comfort to give you, the fear in your eyes was clear. "We don't control the way we die, only what we do in life and the people we take care of during our days," the man continued, letting his back rest against the seat, still surprised that he was having such a deep conversation with a woman he had only just met. At least, in person, because he'd already heard a lot about you from Michael.

"I see," you reply, a little disappointed by the man's response. Well, you couldn't expect him to say that there's a way out of all your insecurities and fear, but in a situation like yours, you couldn't help but hope that a stranger like him would lie to you, words of comfort so surreal that you might believe them. "Thank you for being honest, Henry," you smile, thanking the man who kept you company during this chaotic night. Henry smiles back.

Henry looks at you for a few seconds, wondering whether or not to tell you what was on his mind. You seemed calmer, a softer look on your face, but fear was recognizable in your gaze. He had seen this fear too many times in Michael's eyes and in his own. It didn't suit you, so Henry sighs, catching your eye.

"There's a legend - Well, I wouldn't say a legend, but a story that really struck me," Henry begins, smiling slightly as he sees your eyes light up with curiosity, "It's about a man who made a mistake during his teenage years, an accident that killed a person he loved very much, and after that, he spent his whole life trying to make up for that mistake and several others that weren't caused by him. This man suffered a lot, lost many people and got hurt on his journey, plunging and sinking into this dark and lonely path, so much so that he ended up dying in a violent way." Henry pauses, taking a few seconds to breathe, "However, life is not cruel, it may seem so, but everything happens for a reason, so life gave this man a second chance. He came back to life, he got the second chance he deserves so much," the man in front of you smiles slightly, "I'm not saying that you can predict your death or that if you're good enough, your death will be peaceful, but that you can be sure that some bad things happen for good things to happen."

You don't know how to feel about this story, in fact, it left you a little confused. Why was Henry telling you this? Soon, you feel that same feeling you felt that day with Michael in the hallway. Your stomach seems to turn over in tears to let you know that that story or legend was in fact a ***truth***. You continue to smile, trying to disguise the discomfort that is settling in your body, lightly clutching the shirt you were wearing, waiting for the feeling to pass. It was violent with your body, almost as if you could feel your intuition screaming at you in every way that Henry was telling a real story.

Henry didn't know what to make of your silence, just watching you smile softly, seeming to understand what he had said. "Well, I'm sorry if I said something that made you uncomfortable, I just thought you'd like to hear this story," Henry starts to apologize, but is soon interrupted by you, "No, no, it's just a difficult story to absorb, but I think I understand, thank you Henry," you say, raising your cup to take another sip.

Henry seems pleased that you've understood, a bit happy to have comforted you at least a little. You talk some more, and you recount all the events of your terrible day to him, answering the questions he had and thanking him when he said he would talk to the head office about you having a few days off, because of the trauma you have suffered and the investigation that will take place. You don't know if the time off will be a good idea, maybe staying at home trapped in your thoughts won't be pleasant, but going back to the same place where you found Noah's open body wasn't an idea you liked either. Henry tells you that the night security guard will be notified of your absence and the investigation, at which you ask:

"Will Michael be working both shifts?" you interrupt Henry, worried that Michael might have to spend the whole day in that establishment. Henry looks at you, his mouth slightly open in surprise at your question. "Well, we don't know yet...", the man in front of you replies sincerely. Even Henry didn't want Michael to spend the whole day in that establishment before he found out who had killed Noah.

"If so, I'll go back to work," you say quickly, raising your back from the seat, showing confidence in your statement, "It's not fair that he has to work all day alone in that place," you continue, an assertive voice, as if the fear you had been feeling before disappeared for a few seconds. Henry doesn't know what to say to your suggestion, knowing that Michael will cut his head off if he lets you back into the establishment.

"I'll talk to him - but I don't know if the head office will agree to you returning to the establishment so soon," Henry replies, still impressed by your confidence. You cared about Michael, you didn't want him to spend the whole day alone in that establishment, especially since the murder took place during your working hours. You were just as stubborn as Michael, but Henry couldn't get frustrated about that, satisfied that the man he loved like a son had someone who cared about him besides Henry. Michael could be a little careless at times, still used to the anger and impulsiveness that had haunted him since his teenage years, so having someone like you who could look after him made Henry a little calmer.

"Okay, but tell them that if Michael has to work two shifts, I'm begging them to let me come back," you cross your arms, leaning back against the comfortable seat. Henry smiles softly and nods. You finish your drinks and Henry kindly escorts you home, promising to keep in touch to give you updates on the case and bring you news from the headquarters. You thank him and wish the caring man you got to know better that evening a good night.

"How is she?" is the first thing Henry hears when he gets home. Michael was standing there, wearing the same clothes as when he left the establishment. The television was off and the carpet was a bit messy, which showed Henry that Michael had probably been walking around in circles like a lunatic. "Good night to you too, Mike," Henry said with sarcasm, closing the door behind him.

"Don't give me that, answer me," Michael said a little irritated by Henry's lack of comment, the concern evident on the younger man's purplish face. Michael was without his mask and hood, which made his dark eyes more noticeable. Henry had gotten used to Michael's new figure, but in the bright lighting of his house, he could see that there was a small sparkle in the great darkness that was Michael's gaze, functioning almost like a pupil, following Henry's walking figure. Maybe it was the little glimmer of Michael's soul, Henry thought, not bothered by the possibility, given how crazy his day had already been.

"Are you going to keep staring at me or are you going to answer me?" Michael asks once again, gesturing with his hands, trying to get Henry's attention. "Your eyes have a little sparkle in them, it's not completely black," Henry said, dropping the bag he was carrying on the sofa and then sitting down, looking at Michael's standing figure, who was staring back at him in frustration. "No shit, Sherlock Holmes, it's not like I haven't looked in the fucking mirror today," Michael says, his tone harsh, getting increasingly annoyed with Henry. Michael was counting down the seconds to grab Henry's car key and speed off to your house to check on you.

Henry decided to have mercy on Michael, so he answered: "She's fine, still in shock, but after reading your note, she seemed visibly better," Henry said, taking off the shoes that were tight on his feet. Michael sighs, bringing his hand to his chest, calm taking over his face as he knew you were all right. The man knew what it was like to see a corpse for the first time, the sensation of meeting death and sensing it so closely that you begin to feel its soft touch on your shoulder is an unequal feeling. He had felt this sentiment several times, up until the day he was actually touched by his old friend. That feeling came back to him today, and all he could imagine is that you're feeling the same way, questioning your whole life and the point of it all, being violently reminded that, at the end of the day, you're just a piece of meat with bones and a soul.

"Was it that bad?" Michael asks, having no information about the murder or how Noah's body was found, but given the franchise's track record, he could only expect the worst. Henry raises his hands to his face, rubbing his eyes roughly, "Well, from what she told me, Noah's body looked like yours, his mouth was forced open and his organs were scattered all over the floor, it seems he had a deep opening in his torso," Henry says.

"Holy shit," Michael sighs heavily, dropping his body onto the sofa in frustration, echoing Henry's tired movement. The younger man's hands clamped over his purple mouth in shock, his thoughts racing through his head, not knowing how to react to the information Henry had just told him. Damn it, why did it have to be like this? Michael tried so hard to hide his own body and appearance from your sight, only to have fate slap him across the face and display the same way he died to you. The man's eyes closed in anger, it seemed as if this nightmare would never end, having literally pulled Michael back from his death to continue living the same stories and the same traumas forever. And now you were involved. "Do you think that Ennard is back?" Michael asks quietly.

Henry takes his hands away from his face to look at Michael, understanding the younger man's fear, "I don't know, Mike," he sighs, letting one hand rest on his partner's broad shoulder, the one person who has been with him through all the worst moments of his life, and this will be no different, "But, the police investigated the scene and there was no report of an animatronic, which indicates to us that, if Ennard was there, he certainly isn't anymore.... ", Henry concludes, trying to comfort Michael, seeing the anger resurface in the dead man's dark eyes.

Michael sighs, understanding Henry's words, "No trace from Liz?" the younger man asks about his sister, even though he knows that Ennard and Elizabeth are now two different animatronics, having felt the metallic remains of his sister come out of his mouth days before Ennard abandoned Michael's body in a dark alley. Henry allowed his face to relax into a sad expression, feeling the heavy mood settling between the two of them, given the pair's proximity to the little girl, who was now missing, possessing an animatronic. "No, no sign of her... I'm sorry, Mike," Henry replied.

"It's okay", Michael whispers, knowing that it wasn't the older man's fault, but he can't help also feeling disappointed, after all, he wanted to be reunited with his little sister once again. Michael understood that, before, when Liz saw him working at the Sister Location for the first time, she thought Michael was their father. Well, they do look alike, but perhaps, after the years the two siblings had been apart, Liz had forgotten her older brother's face, overwhelmed by revenge and anger. Michael would never blame her, or Evan, he could only imagine what it was like to be trapped forever in a metallic body, filled with rage and confusion, having to take on a new form that was so distant from a human body. All this suffering being processed in a mind that was made for drawing and for playing with toys was unimaginable for Michael.

"Well, when do I go back to the establishment?" Michael tries to change the subject, trying not to think too much about his siblings, knowing that it was a path of no return, always ending up with Michael either angry or sobbing in Henry's arms.

Henry scratches the back of his head when he hears Michael's question. The younger man notices Henry's nervous mannerism, quickly realizing the discomfort of the man next to him from the question he asked. "What is it?", Michael asks, now a little on edge.

"Y/n refused to allow you to work two shifts, and, well, frankly - I agree with her," Henry begins to explain calmly, knowing that the next sentence would irritate Michael even more, "She believes that it's better for you two to work the day shift together than for one of you to do it alone".

Michael's eyes widen. Henry didn't expect to hear what spilled out of Michael's mouth. The younger man started to laugh, incredulous at what you had suggested, and even more in disbelief at Henry for telling him. "No way in hell," Michael said between laughs, all of the emotions he'd been through that night finally making him a little less lucid. It was laughable really, Michael was never going to let you go back there, at least not now, not until he finds out who killed Noah and where that killer is.

"Michael," Henry calls out to the man who kept laughing, "I completely agree with her." At that moment, the laughter stops immediately, causing Michael to turn his head to meet Henry's eyes. "What?" the younger man says abruptly, "You must be crazy," Michael adds, his voice hoarse and his anger more evident. There were too many overwhelming emotions for one night, Ennard might be back, no sign of Liz and now, Henry thinks it's a great idea to put you in the same place where Noah was killed. Michael may have died for good and is now in purgatory paying for all of his sins.

"Mike, I'm sorry, but I'm not going to let you wander around that establishment alone - I know how much you want to find Ennard, but we can't take that risk," Henry explained, his hands gesticulating in an effort to give Michael an impression of confidence. However, he could see that Henry was nervous, the younger man's temperament being a little worse tonight, after so many revelations in a matter of minutes.

"And you think it's a better idea to let Y/n roam those corridors instead of me?" Michael said louder, the anger that had been swirling inside the man finally exploding. "Come on, Henry, just think, would you rather have a person who doesn't know what they're up against wandering around the same corridors where Noah was killed than me, a person who's lived all these years in this fucking shithole - and still managed to die at the hands of one of those monsters?" Michael is screaming now, once again letting the force of hatred get the best of him, driving him to lash out at Henry, the man who had cared for him his whole life.

Henry had seen this coming, he knew it would be an extra sensitive topic for Michael. The younger man was very protective over you, verbally expressing how he didn't want to tell you the truth or show you what he looked like, in fear of you getting too involved and ending up dead just like everyone Michael had ever loved. So obviously he would have that reaction, the thought of letting you wander around the place while there was the possibility of Ennard being there was unbearable for Michael.

"That's not what I meant-" Henry says calmly, not wanting to add fuel to the fire, so he stands up and reaches for Michael's shoulders lightly, just to get the younger man's attention. "I just don't want you wandering around those corridors on your own, Mike," Henry continues, his gaze soft and pained. Michael immediately returned his gaze.

"I don't want any more victims for this establishment, I'm sorry, I know how much you want to continue investigating on your own, but I can't let you do that, Michael," Henry explains, the concern evident in his voice, "Neither can she, so for the first time in your life, please let other people take care of you too," the older man blurts out, the calm tone and gentle smile never leaving his face. Michael widened his eyes, not knowing how to react once again that night, just taking a deep breath and reaching for Henry's arms, which were still resting on his shoulders.

"I don't want her to become a victim of this chaos," Michael began to whisper, as if he and Henry were little children sharing their secrets. "I don't know if I can lose anyone else," he continued, aware of what he was implying. Henry realized it too.

"You're not going to lose anyone, and she doesn't want to see you hurt either," the older man says, "It's what I can do for now, I don't want to see you alone in that establishment and neither does she, and you're not willing to let her come back, so I propose that you two work the day shift, at least until we can find whoever did this," Henry suggests, watching the pained look take shape on the younger man's face, knowing that it's a difficult decision for him to make. Michael didn't want to imagine what would become of him if you got hurt or died in that establishment, another one among the dozens of victims in this never-ending nightmare. And worst of all, the feeling of having absolutely no control settles in Michael's chest, it's such a familiar situation for him. He's done everything to save Liz, he's done everything to right his wrongs with Evan, to release the souls that are trapped in eternal torment and to kill his father. Nothing worked, in fact, they only got worse. Would it be the same for you? Would it be the end of your story to watch your sister die and then yourself perish in Ennard's hands? Michael can't see anything beyond that. He was selfish, he was selfish with you, he shouldn't have gotten close to you, he shouldn't have kissed you or had sex with you. Michael shouldn't have fallen in love.

"Hey, hey, look-", Henry noticed the anxiety taking over the younger man's dead body, his broad shoulders shaking slightly with his gaze lost on the floor. "I know we've both lost a lot of people to this madness we call life, I warned you from the beginning not to let the relationship between you two get any deeper, but there's no going back in time, now you have to protect her, don't let this franchise take another good soul from this world - Don't give up now on the love you fought so hard for," the father Michael never had uttered, his voice firm, as if it were a warning. And it was a warning, one that Michael genuinely needed. The damage had already been done, now he would have to deal with the consequences of having gotten close to you, and frankly, he was willing to go to any lengths to see you safe and smiling. That thought awoke something in Michael, motivation gushing through his bloodless veins, knowing that there was no one better in the world to protect you but him and Henry. Michael was familiar with the threat, having come face to face with Ennard and, well, having died in his arms.

"Okay, Henry," Michael replied, his voice charged with emotion, but it wasn't anger or anxiety like before, it was charged with initiative and determination. You weren't going to die, not you or your sister, Michael wasn't going to let that happen, even if it was the last thing his dead body did in this endless nightmare.

You were listening to the birds chirping outside, your sister had already left for school, leaving you alone once again with your thoughts. Cass had been good company, she had limited information about what had happened, but she understood that her older sister was in a bad place and needed a little more help. That's why Cass understood when you asked to sleep in bed with her, or when she woke up and still didn't have breakfast on the table, needing to remind you to eat. You didn't want to be neglecting her, but the sleep paralysis didn't let you rest, in fact, you were afraid to fall asleep, because every time you would wake up with your body paralyzed and Noah looking at you, his face so close to yours that you could see the emptiness in his eyes. He didn't do anything, he just stared at you, and that was enough to make you realize: Noah wanted you to be in his place. And honestly, spending your days afraid to even shut your eyes, forgetting to feed your sister and not being able to leave the house, maybe it would have been better if it had been you.

"Fuck," you whisper, bringing your hands up to rub your eyes, preventing them from closing involuntarily. Today you would be returning to the establishment after five days away, you haven't managed to grasp how many days have passed, just spending every hour of the day at home, watching television or in your sister's room, reading some children's book she saved for school. You don't know how you feel about going back to work, especially to look at that same auditorium where you found that body, where you found Noah. But you wanted to see Michael, you wanted to sink into his arms and, for a few short minutes, feel safe, feel surrounded by steel barriers where Noah's killer or ghost couldn't get to you.

With these thoughts, you forced yourself to get up from the sofa, being practically carried by your own legs to your room, where you changed into your uniform. Your uniform was clean, in fact, there was never a speck of blood on the fabric given its distance from the corpse, but just the fact that you wore it that night made you frantically clean it irrationally. After changing, you headed for the kitchen, writing a short note to your sister, letting her know that you had left for work and giving her the number of the pizzeria in the next street, in case she got hungry. Just then, a noise from outside your house startled you, making you freeze in your tracks. It was the sound of a motorcycle, but the point is: you don't know anyone who rides a motorcycle.

Your body didn't move, frozen at the thought of the killer coming to get you. Maybe he saw you talking to the police and was out for revenge, or he wanted to kill all the workers in the establishment. You don't know, and frankly, it doesn't matter why. The sound of the motorcycle has stopped, signaling that the stranger must have stopped in front of your house. This wakes you up from your trance, opening the knife drawer in the kitchen and immediately grabbing one. You don't know how to fight, but maybe with a sharp weapon, you'll have a few seconds to fight for your life. "Please, anyone who's listening, don't let my sister be the one to find my body," you pray, knowing the trauma she would suffer from seeing the mutilated body of the person she loves most in the world. You would fight, fight so that your sister would not be left alone in this world. Your grip on the knife tightens at the thought of your sister, you could be in deep shit, you could be sleepless for days or have the same sleep paralysis every night, nothing would take you away from your sister, she wouldn't suffer any more, you wouldn't let her.

"Hello? Anyone home?", a familiar voice sounds from the front door. Your mind takes a few seconds to process who it was, and as soon as you do, the knife falls to the floor and your feet can be heard colliding with the ground, quickly making their way to the front door.

"Shit, did Henry give me the wrong address?", Michael verbalizes his own thoughts quietly, placing his hand on the motorcycle helmet he was wearing. The helmet was a bit scratched and had accumulated some dust due to lack of use over a long period of time, but Michael was at least happy that he was riding again. He was on his way back to the bike, having knocked on the door a few times and continued to get no response, but the sound of the door opening made him stop in his tracks, ready to turn around and apologize for having mistaken the address, but a body colliding with his torso made any train of thought he was having come to an immediate halt.

You knew Michael wouldn't like this close distance between the two of you, but honestly, now it didn't matter, he could yell and get angry at you later, now you just wanted to feel his arms, you wanted to feel him close. Michael let a small laugh escape his lips, surprised at your reaction to seeing him. "Careful, you could end up hitting your head on my helmet," he said, extending his arm, covered by his leather jacket and bandages, to encircle your waist, accepting how close you were. Michael was wearing a large jacket and helmet, he knows there's no way you can feel the wires or notice the purple hue of his skin, so he returns the embrace, needing your touch just as you needed his.

You don't answer, not having the strength to think about anything other than feeling Michael close to you again. It could be that you missed him, it could be the fear you're feeling, it could be so many emotions, but what matters is that he's with you now. Michael continues to smile, one arm around your waist and the other holding your head against his torso, careful not to press the heavy helmet against your head. "I'm sorry I didn't come sooner, I heard what happened and that the establishment was suspended due to the investigation," Michael says, squeezing your waist as he feels you nod. Shit, he wanted you even closer. "It's okay, you're here now," you say, feeling your voice break a little.

Michael lifts one of his hands and touches your face, caressing your cheek, "I will always be here for you," he says. Michael doesn't know what effect this little speech had on you, but when he simply and effortlessly stated that he would always reach you, once again, you felt the *truth* in his speech. You were safe with Michael, he would always find you, he would reach out to you no matter what. Your body relaxed, feeling the tiredness and lack of sleep finally catch up with your brain, or perhaps, it was your body feeling that it had found a safe place to relax, the survival instinct finally going away and leaving just you and Michael.

"I've come to pick you up so we can go to work," Michael says, breaking the silence that had settled between the two of you. You don't raise your head, not wanting to leave him so soon, "Yes, Henry told me we'd be working the day shift together," you reply, now playing with your fingers on the heavy fabric of his jacket.

"Yes, because one of the workers refused to let me work alone," Michael says, squeezing your cheek lightly. Your skin was so warm in contrast to Michael's bandaged fingers, he had missed your warmth. "I don't know who this crazy woman is, do you? You'll have to introduce me to her..." he teased, wanting to hear your laughter again. He left Henry's house with one goal in mind, well, two actually: to protect you and, above all, to hear you laugh. Michael could imagine what you had been through in those five days, after all, he had lived it a few times in his life. And when you finally appeared, bringing light into the immense darkness that were his days, you became a space where he could be anything but Michael Afton, the man who has lost everything, the man seeking revenge or the man who will never rest, he could be Michael Afton with you. Just Michael Afton. And today, with him, you could be you, not the woman who had found the architect's body in the establishment where you worked. He wanted to see your carefree smile, he wanted to help you carry some of that weight, just as he did every time.

And he succeeded. You laughed, a light, soft laugh, heavy with the tones of tiredness you were feeling, but it was enough for Michael. He strokes your hair before finally pulling away to fetch the extra helmet he had brought. You thank him as you take the helmet, and just as you're about to put it on your head, you feel Michael's hand touch yours.

"Let me help you," Michael says, taking the helmet from your hands and placing it on top of your head. You quickly put your hair up in a ponytail and let Michael put the helmet on you with the agility and care that only an expert would have. Through the small tinted window in the helmet, you can see Michael grabbing an extra jacket from his backpack and holding it out to you. "You look too good in that jacket and helmet," he says, as you put the heavy jacket on over your uniform, "Shit, I think we should stay right here," Michael says, the teasing tone making you laugh again. Only Michael can make you forget reality and the thousands of worries in your head for a few seconds, building that steel barrier in your mind, with free access only for him. "Come on, Michael, let's go," you reply, lightly pushing the man's torso in front of you, signaling him to sit on the bike.

Michael smiles behind his helmet and does as you say, sitting on the bike and then holding out his hand to help you up too. He doesn't let his smile drop when he feels you wrap your arms around his waist. Shit, he should wear helmets and jackets more often, so he could have you touching him freely every day, just like now.

Yeah, Henry was right, Michael would never let anything happen to you.