#i think i just like a deeper voice on someone

[cutielando]

back with you | charles leclerc

synopsis: in which he can't bear to see you with someone else

a/n: based on this request!

my masterlist

You and Charles had been together for nearly 4 years - a relationship filled with passion, love, and shared dreams.

But in the end, unfortunately, it just hadn't been enough.

The break-up had been devastating, leaving you heartbroken while Charles seemed to have moved on effortlessly, like your relationship had meant nothing.

A month after your split, you found out he had gone back to his ex, and it was safe to say that it had gutted you. The betrayal sliced deeper than the break-up itself, at least that's how it felt. While you had been drowning in sorrow, barely able to find a reason to get out of bed in the mornings, he had been rekindling an old flame, someone he had always told you not to worry about.

It was almost a cliche.

Finding that out was the moment when you had decided you wouldn't - couldn't - let him have the satisfaction of knowing how much he had hurt you with this.

And so, when the Las Vegas Grand Prix rolled around, you made a decision - you were going to make Charles jealous and make him regret his decision of ever letting you go and breaking up with you. And if you were going to do it, you were going to do it spectacularly.

Enter Grayson Dolan - famous YouTuber, charming, effortlessly attractive, and conveniently more than willing to help you prove your point and have some fun at the same time.

The Las Vegas strip shimmered under the neon lights, the energy of the race weekend pulsing through the air.

Cameras flashed as you and Grayson arrived at the paddock together, walking closely, your laughter light and effortless as you let your fingers graze his arm.

The sleek black revenge dress you wore hugged your curves perfectly, exuding confidence, power, and the very message you had wanted to send - you're thriving, even without Charles Leclerc with you.

And oh, did he notice.

Charles had been standing near his Ferrari garage when he saw you, his easy demeanor faltering as his gazed locked onto you and Grayson. His jaw clenched, his hands balled into fists at his sides as jealousy flared in his chest. You had always been his, and seeing you with someone else - someone who wasn't him - was like a punch to the gut.

The tension only thickened at the afterparty. The club was alive with pulsing music and flashing lights, a place where celebrations and inhibitions blended together.

You were dancing with Grayson, your bodies close, your laughter slipping between you as his hands rested casually on your waist. It was all for show, of course, but it was working.

Maybe even a little too well.

Charles had been watching you all night, his patience slowly wearing thin, his jealousy bubbling over.

And then, just as Grayson leaned in, Charles snapped and lost all control of himself.

Before anyone could even understand what was going on, Charles was shoving Grayson back with enough force to make everyone around you stop to stare and gasp.

"That's enough" Charles said, his voice low and full of warning, his eyes locked onto yours.

Grayson held up his hands, stepping back, but you weren't about to let Charles dictate your life, not anymore.

"What the hell is your problem?" you snapped at him, your voice cutting through the music as Charles grabbed your hand and pulled you outside the club.

The cool night air did very little to cool the fire between you two.

"What was that, Charles? You lost the right to care about what I do the moment you ran back to her" you said, accentuating your last word with disgust in your voice.

Charles ran a hang through his hair, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

"Do you honestly think I don't care? You think it didn't kill me inside, seeing you here with him?" he said.

"You don't have the right to be jealous! You left me, Charles. You moved on!" you shot back, your voices echoing on the empty street.

"I never moved on!" he shouted, his voice cracking at the end. "I tried, but I couldn't. Being with her wasn't the same. She's not you, and she'll never be you" he said, shaking his head and exhaling sharply.

Your breath hitched, emotions warring within you as his confession settled between the two of you.

"I miss you, mon amour" he whispered, stepping closer, his hand finding yours in the darkness. "I never stopped loving you"

You wanted to fight it. You truly did.

You tried to focus on the pain and betrayal that he had made you endure, the deep resentment that you help for him in your heart ever since you found out he had ran back in the arms of the one person he had told you he didn't think about anymore.

But even so, your heart betrayed you completely.

Truth be told, you missed him too. God knows you missed him more than you should, given the situation. But how could you possibly stop loving the man that you wanted to spent the rest of your life with? How could you hate the love of your life? How?

The anger, the jealousy, the pain - everything melted away as Charles cupped your cheeks in his hands, his gaze searching yours.

And then, with the world quiet around you, you crashed into him, your lips finding his in a kiss that spoke everything left unsaid.

Maybe it was reckless. Maybe it was inevitable, in some way. Maybe you were going to regret it.

But in that moment, all that mattered was that Charles Leclerc was yours again.

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[bunji-enthusiast]

𝐇𝐮𝐦𝐚𝐧 (𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐥𝐥?)

Sypnosis [You go out to scavenge for food, basically.]

Characters [Poppy, Doey The Doughman.]

Note || it be rough down in Playtime Co fr, also the potential for the fluff is unmatched. Like, trying to vy for some light and hope, despite the horrors that await us at every turn in the factory. Raghh— also I’m posting another one after this, I wrote both of this and the other in tandem.

The factory was a maze of forgotten memories and rusted machinery, its shadows deeper and darker than most could ever imagine. Yet, amidst all the chaos, there was still a flicker of hope for survival. You were tough, yes—no stranger to hard labor and hardship—but survival in the backrooms of Playtime Co. required something more. Food, for one.

The small toys in the safe haven, especially Doey, needed sustenance, and even though they were small, they weren't any less deserving of food than you. Poppy, Kissy, and the others—tough as the journey was, you couldn’t ignore their needs. It was your responsibility.

But before you could set out, you found yourself in the worn, cold hall of the safe haven, where Poppy sat with a gentle but questioning look. Her eyes, despite their haunting bloodshot hue, carried something soft, something almost maternal. Her porcelain face, cracked as it was, held the same delicate, thoughtful expression you had come to expect.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Poppy spoke, her voice light and almost melodic. It had a faint echo, as if the walls themselves remembered her long-forgotten commercial days. “You’re going out to scavenge, aren’t you?”

You nodded, giving her a small grin. “I’ll bring back something for you too, Poppy. Don’t worry.”

Poppy’s eyes narrowed slightly, a flicker of concern passing over her features. “You should be careful out there, you know. The factory's a dangerous place. Even for someone like you.”

“I’m tougher than I look, Poppy,” you reassured her, though there was a hint of apprehension in your voice. No matter how tough you were, the factory still held secrets, and not all of them were willing to let you go free.

Poppy looked down, her fingers twisting the ribbons in her red hair as if caught in a whirlwind of thoughts. When she spoke again, her voice had lost some of its previous cheerfulness, replaced by something deeper, something weary. “You have to understand… It’s not just food that’s at stake, you know.”

Your brow furrowed, confused at first. “What do you mean? The food—”

“I’m talking about the Prototype,” she said quietly, almost as if the mere mention of it weighed heavily on her. “If you go out there, be careful. He’s always watching, even when you don’t see him. The food… it’s just the beginning. Things could get much worse, much faster. You’re already in too deep, aren’t you?”

Her words gave you pause. Despite the factory's twisted games and horrors, the Prototype loomed over everything, a constant shadow.

“I know,” you sighed, “but we’re not getting out of here without doing something. The others—Doey, Kissy, and even you—need to be taken care of. And if that means I have to risk it, then so be it. I’ve survived this long, haven’t I?”

Poppy smiled faintly, her porcelain lips curling ever so slightly. “You’ve survived, yes. But maybe… maybe you don’t have to do it alone. I know I can’t leave, not with everything that’s happened. But we can’t let him win. We can’t let him keep us here.”

You gave her a reassuring nod, feeling the weight of the factory’s twisted past pressing down on you both. “I won’t let him win, Poppy. I’ll be back. Promise.”

She stood up slowly, her delicate porcelain limbs moving with an elegance that belied the danger lurking just outside the safe haven. “Be careful. And if you can find anything more than food… anything that could help us escape, don’t hesitate to bring it back. We all deserve that much.”

As you turned to leave, Poppy’s soft voice called out to you one last time. “Don’t get lost, okay? The factory is full of distractions, and not all of them are friendly.”

You smiled at her words, a small flicker of warmth in your chest. “I’ll be fine. Just stay safe, alright?”

With that, you stepped into the darkened halls, your mind focused on the task ahead. The air was thick with the scent of rust and decay, but your resolve was firm. You had a job to do. Not just for yourself, but for those who had no way of scavenging for themselves. And you couldn’t let them down. Not after everything that had happened.

The factory's mechanical heart seemed to pulse around you, but you kept moving forward, determined to find something—anything—that would give you all a chance at survival.

The factory was a place of eerie silence now, broken only by the occasional echo of footsteps. It had once been a bustling factory, filled with the sounds of laughter and the buzz of mechanical parts working in harmony. Now, it was a place of fear, of shadows lurking in every corner, and of memories that clung to the walls like ghosts. As a former employee, you had seen things here that no one should have ever witnessed. Yet, amidst the horror, there were still those who needed you. The small toys that had found sanctuary in this forsaken place — Doey, Poppy, Kissy, and others — were relying on you.

Food. The thought lingered in your mind like a simple but necessary task, a reminder of how even in a world so broken, survival still required basic needs. You had made your way through the depths of the factory once before, and though the dangers were still there, they didn’t faze you the way they used to. You were tough, resilient — your body honed for the challenges this factory threw at you. But even you couldn’t fight the gnawing emptiness in your stomach. And it wasn’t just for you. Doey, the ever-caring doughman, had proven himself to be a true companion. And Poppy... Poppy had become something more than just another toy. She had become someone you could rely on. Kissy, too, though she was quieter, always watching from the shadows, had her own way of offering help.

You knew where to go. The factory had its secrets — areas tucked away behind locked doors, hidden alleys between forgotten rooms where remnants of old supplies might still be found. The storage areas and old kitchens, once a part of the bustling workforce's meals, were now just echoes of the past. But perhaps, with a little luck, you could scavenge something to bring back. It was risky. The factory had changed since the disaster. The toys that once greeted customers with joy and laughter had become twisted, warped by the Prototype's influence. Yet, there were still pockets of safety — places where the light still flickered faintly.

You moved quickly, but cautiously, your eyes darting from shadow to shadow. The factory’s labyrinthine corridors seemed to stretch forever, each turn filled with uncertainty. You had a destination in mind, but that didn't make the journey any less perilous. The faint sound of machinery echoed from far off, and the distant scraping of claws against metal made your pulse race for a moment. But you pushed forward. There was no turning back now.

As you reached the old kitchen, memories of its former use haunted you. It had been a place of warmth once, where the workers would gather, a place of respite. Now, the shelves were bare, save for the scattered remnants of broken toys and discarded wrappers. A few boxes remained — their labels faded and worn, but their contents still promising. You pried open a few, finding only scraps of half-eaten meals and stale bread. Not much, but it would have to do.

You moved through the dark corridors, the boxes tucked under your arm, and it wasn’t long before you spotted a small, familiar figure in the distance. Doey. His doughy body shuffled forward with surprising agility, a small bundle of food in his hands.

"I thought I might find you here," he said, his voice soft but warm. "Food’s scarce, but we’ve got a few things hidden away. Thought you might need some."

"Anything helps," you replied, grateful. "What about the others? Poppy? Kissy?"

Doey smiled, his form stretching slightly as he thought. "Kissy's still laying low. She’s... been through a lot. And Poppy’s keeping an eye on things, making sure the others are safe. But they're hungry. We all are."

You handed Doey a few of the boxes you had scavenged. "We’ll make do," you said, though the truth was, the food would hardly be enough to sustain the group for long. But it was better than nothing.

“Poppy will be thrilled,” Doey continued, his voice quieter now. “We’ve all been struggling to get by, and every little bit helps. You know, it’s funny… in a place like this, food doesn’t just fill your stomach. It reminds us of a simpler time, a time when we didn’t have to worry about every little thing, when we were just toys living for fun and play.”

You nodded, understanding the gravity behind his words. While Doey often kept things light, he had his moments of deep thought, moments when the weight of what had happened here truly sank in. He didn’t often talk about the past, but you knew from what little he'd shared that he was one of the few who still remembered the humanity behind the toys—the lives they once lived. That empathy he showed for the other toys, even those whose humanity had long been erased by the Prototype’s cruel machinations, was something you admired about him.

“I know Poppy wants to put an end to all of this," Doey continued, his voice soft but serious now, the usual joviality replaced by a more reflective tone. "But I think... I think there's something worth saving here. Even after everything that's happened, these toys—like us—are still capable of so much more than what the factory intended. I believe that. Even if some others can’t see it.”

The words struck you in a way you didn’t expect. You had always known that Doey, despite his playful exterior, had a more complex side—a side that had always tried to balance the need for action with the need for understanding. While Poppy, the other leader of the Safe Haven, was adamant about destroying the factory and moving on, Doey had a different perspective. He wanted to understand, to find a way to preserve what remained of the toys' essence, to protect them.

"You really think there's a chance?" you asked, genuinely curious.

Doey nodded, though his expression remained neutral. "I do. Not all of us are beyond saving. We just need the right push. Poppy may want to destroy everything, but… I can’t just give up on them. I can’t give up on us."

There was a certain sadness behind his words, a sadness that only surfaced when Doey was truly vulnerable, when the weight of responsibility took a hold of him. But it was that very vulnerability that made him such a powerful leader—because it made him relatable. He understood loss, struggle, and hope, and he knew that sometimes, saving someone wasn’t about destroying everything around them. It was about offering them a chance at redemption, even in the most hopeless of circumstances.

"You know, Doey," you said, your voice steady, "You're not alone in this. Poppy and the others may not always see eye to eye with you, but… I think you’re right. We can’t just abandon the idea that there’s good left in these toys."

His smile returned, albeit more subdued this time. "Thanks. I needed to hear that."

Just then, you both heard the distant sound of footsteps echoing through the factory—another sign that the factory wasn’t as empty as it seemed. You both turned your heads, ready for whatever came next. But for now, in this brief, quiet moment between you and Doey, there was a sense of peace—a fleeting sense of hope amidst the ruins.

"Come on," Doey said, his playful tone back. "Let’s get this food back to the Safe Haven before anyone else starts getting ideas. They won’t be disappointed."

The two of you walked back toward the Safe Haven, the only place where any semblance of safety remained in this factory of horrors. As you passed through the corridors, the shadows seemed to shift. The factory had a way of making you feel watched, as if every creaking floorboard or distant thud was a reminder that the nightmare was never truly gone. You quickened your pace, eager to return to the others.

When you reached the Safe Haven, the sight of the familiar, fortified walls provided some comfort. Inside, the toys were scattered in various corners, huddled in their own small groups. The warmth of their presence was palpable, even if they were all, in their own way, broken by what they had endured. Doey moved to the corner, setting down the food he had gathered, and you followed, your eyes searching for Poppy.

She was standing near something—you couldn’t make out what, her porcelain face calm but her eyes searching the dark expanse beyond. As you approached, she turned to you, her usual cheer absent but replaced by something more serious.

"Did you find anything?" she asked, her voice soft yet filled with hope.

"Not much," you replied, holding up the food you had gathered. "But it's enough for now."

Poppy nodded, her lips curling into a small, appreciative smile. "We’ll make it work. We always do."

It was a rare moment of peace, fleeting though it was. You had been through so much together — the horrors of the factory, the twisted games and monstrous toys that had haunted your every step. But here, in this small corner of the factory, you had found something like family. It wasn’t much, but it was all you had.

And as you sat down with the others, sharing what little food there was, you couldn’t help but feel that, for all the darkness, there was still something worth fighting for.

[kiszjuli]

MY GIRL .ᐟ

✸ shy!mark x fem!reader | genre. fluff. | w.c 2.2k | ♡

↳ synopsis. in which mark has apparently claimed you in his heart, and to no one other than his friends. hiding his feelings thinking that he didn’t have a chance, he gets extremely jealous when someone tries to ask you out for valentine’s day. you’re his girl.

↳playlist. designer - nct 127, just the way you are - bruno mars, can’t take my eyes off of you - frankie valli, when im with you - nct dream, night poem - nct dream, can’t help falling in love - elvis presley.

the student lounge was buzzing with laughter and chatter, the sounds of friends catching up and making plans for the upcoming 3-day weekend. mark sat at a corner table with his group of friends, jeno, donghyuck, and jisung. but his gaze and attention kept drifting to you. you were seated at a nearby table with your own group of friends. you were always effortlessly surrounded by people, your laugh ringing in his ears like his favorite song. mark had always admired how easily you lit up every room you entered, how everyone seemed drawn to your warmth and energy. and how-

“earth to mark,” jeno’s voice broke him from his thoughts, and Mark blinked, seeing his friends hand waving in front of his face. he looked up at his friend with a forced smile.

“huh? oh, yeah, sorry,” he mumbled, fixing the hat on his head, trying to look more engaged but failing.

jisung raised an eyebrow, noticing the direction mark was looking. “you good, man?” he asked, his voice casual but with an underlying hint of curiosity.

nodding quickly, mark then shifted in his seat. “yeah, i’m fine. just… trying to focus, you know?” He waved his hand brushing them off, though his eyes couldn’t help but flick back to you for a moment.

donghyuck catches where his eyes dart, and a knowing look forms on his face. “you sure? you’ve been staring at her all afternoon,” donghyuck added with a grin.

mark immediately blushed, feeling heat rush to his face. “what? no! i wasn’t staring,” he protested a little too quickly, tugging his hat lower to hide his face. “i just—uh, i’m just lost in thought.” he muttered, his voice cracking slightly as he rubbed the back of his neck.

jeno smirked. “uh-huh, sure. if you say so. but you’ve been acting kinda weird lately. you sure there’s nothing going on?”

mark swallowed hard, his heart racing at the thought of you. He had always admired you from a distance, but you were popular, way out of his league. his friends knew about his little crush on you, but he didn’t think they understood the full extent of it. he wasn’t even sure you saw him as more than a mere friend.

“i-idon’t know,” mark muttered, his voice quieter than usual. “it’s just… she’s always so surrounded by people, you know? she’s pretty much got everyone’s attention all the time.”

jeno leaned back, a teasing glint in his eyes. “she’s definitely got yours” his comment earning a laugh from the other two.

mark’s face flushed deeper, and he slumped in his seat. “no guys, seriously,” he mumbled, trying to play it cool but failing miserably. “she’s just… i don’t know. she’s popular, and i’m just… me.”

“yeah, well, ‘just you’ is exactly why you’ve got a shot,” donghyuck said, his voice light but encouraging. “you think she doesn’t notice? she does. she’s not blind, mark.”

“exactly,” jisung added, leaning back in his chair. “you’ve been acting like a nervous mess every time she’s around. maybe it’s time you do something about it, yeah?”

mark shot a small glance toward your table, his heart skipping a beat as you caught his eye for a second. he quickly adverted his gaze, pretending to be interested in something in front of him.

jeno chuckled and patted him on the back. “mark, you’ve got this. you just have to take a chance. she’s not some unreachable goddess. if you really like her, go for it. stop hiding behind your ‘I’m fine’ act.”

mark gave him a small, unsure smile. “maybe. i’ll think about it,”

but deep down, mark was terrified. he could never imagine you looking at him the way he looked at you. you were popular, funny, and effortlessly charming. he was… well, just mark.

as you laughed from across the room, mark’s heart gave an involuntary flutter. maybe his friends were right—maybe it was time to stand up and stop pretending he didn’t want more. more than to just watch you from afar. but for now, he stayed where he was, silently watching, unsure if he’d ever have the courage to tell you how he truly felt.

—

classes were now over, and small groups of people were in the large theater, helping set up for valentine's day. your school was hosting a valentine's day fundraiser, where the campus would raise money for local charities. this year's theme 'music for the heart'- likewise, the main attraction was the music appreciation raffle.

you were there of course, running the “song dedication booth” where students could pay a small fee to have a song dedicated to someone during the open mic. you decorated the booth yourself: choosing some white fairy lights to outline the sign, with red heart balloons all around, and of course some cut out music notes that you had done earlier.

“okay, so you want ‘can’t take my eyes off you’ for your girlfriend? great choice,” you said with a smile, writing the request onto the list. “she’ll love it.”

mark watched you from the edge of the stage, where he was tuning his guitar for his performance later. he could hear your cheerful voice as you talked with students, helping them pick the perfect songs. the way you talked about music, your passion shining through every suggestion and question, made his chest tighten.

“she’s really into this,” jisung remarked from behind the drum kit, glancing between mark and you. “you’re playing tonight, right? finally gonna make your move?”

mark glanced over at his friends—jeno adjusting his bass strap and dongkyuck pretending to help. he quickly averted his gaze, nervously strumming his guitar. “i don’t know,” he muttered. “she’s got so much going on. she’s busy.” he made excuses.

donghyuck rolled his eyes, crossing his arms. “she’s running a music related booth, mark. if there’s ever a chance to make conversation, it’s right now.”

hesitant, he glanced back at you as you laughed with another student. “but what if she doesn’t feel the same way?” he said quietly.

“dude, she smiles at you differently than anyone else,” jeno chimed in. “i don’t think you realize how obvious you are. she’s into you too, but you can’t wait forever.”

the idea of putting himself out there, of confessing how he felt in front of everyone, made his palms sweat. he just couldn’t.

“why not dedicate your song to her?” jisung spoke up, his voice softer

mark’s heart pounded knowing that his song was already dedicated to you, having thought about it for weeks beforehand. he was going to perform ‘just the way you are’ by bruno mars.

mark glanced up, and his heart nearly stopped when he saw you looking his way, the fairy lights illuminated your features in the best way as you gave him a small, bright smile. he awkwardly waved back, his stomach flipping as you returned your attention to the students walking your way.

“smooth,” donghyuck muttered, biting back a laugh.

“shut up,” mark mumbled, his face heating up.

—

the lights in the theater dimmed, and the crowd hushed as mark stepped onto the stage, his guitar slung over his shoulder. you stood near the back of the room, watching as he adjusted the mic, his hands trembling slightly. you felt a smile creeping to your face.

“this one’s for someone special,” he said, his voice quiet but steady.

your best friend, winter nudged your shoulder and you glared at her with a laugh. she always teased you about your slight crush on the boy.

as the familiar chords of “just the way you are” filled the room, your heart skipped a beat. mark’s voice was soft yet filled with emotion, his eyes scanning the crowd until they landed on you.

when he sang, “her eyes, her eyes make the stars look like they’re not shining,” you felt your cheeks flush. feeling like you were looking too much into it, you shook your head slightly and glanced down at your shoes.

by the final verse, everyone was entranced by his voice. when the song ended, the applause broke the spell, but mark’s gaze lingered on yours, his lips curving into a shy smile.

—

the rest of the fundraiser went extremely well. the crowd winding down and now you found yourself starting to pack up your things at you booth.

“hey,” a voice interrupted, making you glance up.

It was a guy from one of your classes, holding a small bouquet of roses in his hands. he looked nervous but determined as he stepped closer to your booth.

“oh, hi!” you greeted warmly, taking a pause from packing up.

mark saw it from across the student center—the way the guy nervously walked up to you, clutching a small bouquet of flowers, his face tinged pink, your kind but still friendly smile. frozen in place, his chest tightened. he couldn’t hear the conversation, but he didn’t need to. the way the guy was smiling at you and the way you politely smiled back made it clear what was happening. but you were his girl. even if that guy didn’t know it yet.

of course someone else would ask you out. he knew it was going to happen at some point, always surrounded by people who admired you. and mark? he’d spent months hiding his feelings, thinking you’d never look at him that way.

but now as he sees the guy walk away from you-missing the slight frown on his face-he can’t stop his own two feet from moving towards you. his mind was racing. did you say yes? were you off limits now? labeled as someone else’s girl?

as he approached, you were gathering the last few things from your booth. you noticed him and looked up.

“oh, mark?” you asked tilting your head, still with bright eyes.

“hey,” he said, trying to sound casual but failing as his voice cracked slightly. “i, uh… i saw you talking to that guy just now.”

you raised an eyebrow, catching the uncertainty in his tone. “huh? oh yeah, he was just—”

“did you—did you say yes?” the words spilling out before he could stop them, and he winced as soon as he realized how frantic his voice sounded.

you blinked in surprise. “what?”

“to, uh… whatever he asked you…” mark said, rubbing the back of his neck, his face flushing. he was getting more and more choked up by the second. “i mean, obviously it’s fine if you did..it’s probably none of my business and- he seemed nice. i just…” he trailed off, his words stringing along as he avoided your gaze.

you stared at him for a moment before realizing what he was getting at. a soft laugh escaped your lips, and mark’s eyes darted to you, his brow furrowing in confusion. “what’s funny?”

“no, i didn’t say yes,” you said simply, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “i told him i wasn’t interested.” you said looking up, your grin still lingering on your face.

mark felt relief wash over him as a small smile tugged at his lips. however, disbelief still clouded his mind. “you..didn't?”

shaking your head you spoke. “nope,” your smile was warm yet teasing as you say his rosy cheeks darken a little. “i think i’d rather wait for someone i actually want to say yes to,”

mark just blinked, not knowing how to react. what did that mean? could you be talking about him? or was it someone else? why would you-

“mark,” you called out, breaking him from his thoughts. “if..you have something to say, now would be the time,” you said softly, stepping a little closer.

“well, i-i have been wanting to say something for a while now,” he started, taking a breath. “i like you a lot, like- a lot..but i just didn’t think i had a chance..”

your smile widened feeling a small heat rise to your cheeks too. “you always had a chance mark,”

relief mixed with disbelief washed over him. you felt the same way the whole time? he let out a nervous laugh, his shoulders finally relaxing. “so, does this mean i can ask you out now?”

“i think you just did,” you teased, your fingers fiddling together, as your heart beat a little faster.

mark grinned, his confidence growing. he reached out for your hand, still shaking but sure. “well, then… will you be my valentine?” he wanted to ask ‘will you be my girl?’ but this would do for now-slow steps, he told himself.

“i’d love to,” you replied, your eyes sparkling as you smiled at him.

“y/n! can you come here for a sec?” winter called for you from the studio room. she apologized later once she found out was was happening, but you brushed it off saying it was okay.

you looked to mark and stepped closer. you softly pressed your lips to his cheekbone and pulled away slowly. “come find me later?”

he nods with a hum, too star struck by you to form a sentence, or even a word. you smiled and walked off, now knowing that you finally had the guy you wanted. and mark walked back to his guitar to his teasing friends with a dopey, cheesy smile knowing that you were his girl.

and in that moment, mark felt that every doubt, every little hesitation, had been worth it.

—

⁀➷⊹ ࣪ ˖~ THE LA LA LOVE SERIES .ᐟ

taggies(open) ↳ @kittydollzz @huffnpufffckk @completelyjae @lovesuhng @nae-vm @ayibdorrt @chocoriki @yowmaman @yukisroom97

[rafesbuzzcutseason]

chasing city lights

chapter 9 - cute note

synopsis: you move to new york to start fresh, hoping to find comfort in the city’s atmosphere. that’s when you meet sarah cameron, where she takes you to a concert and you catch sight of the lead band member, rafe cameron. it only takes a moment for you to realize you’re captivated by him. as sarah helps you navigate your new life in the city, you start to get pulled deeper into rafe's world—the music, the fame, the chaos. the more you get to know him, the more you realise that rafe is not just the rock star he seems to be. he’s wrestling with his own demons, and the last thing he needs is someone like you getting close.

masterlist

cw: language

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you and the girls were huddled on sarah's bed as you debriefed the night before, it still not processing with you.

"i mean we left you for 5 SECONDS and i turned around and you two were eating each other" kie laughed

"no like seriously i thought we were gonna have to push harder for project city but it seems you didn't need our help after all." cleo joined in the laughter.

"guys i don't even know like i'm still in shock." you said.

"well was it a good kiss...?" sarah questioined.

"maybe the best i've ever had," you blushed. "but i'm nervous to see him next like what happens now."

"well you have his number," kie started "and you also don't have long because we're actually about to meet them all for lunch!"

"you're fucking joking." you muttered.

"nope!" sarah chimed in. "so let's get you ready."

after a quick outfit change, you left your room to meet the boys downstairs to have a walk around LA and grab some lunch.

you nervously waited for them to appear, but they finally did, rafe leading the group.

he smirked at you as he came to say hi, pulling you into a hug to whisper in your ear "cute note."

your cheeks went red while you pushed him away, turning to jj to say hi to him too.

"good night?" he winked at you.

"shut up jj." you laughed, as john b and pope also bought you into a hug.

"seems like someone had fun." john b laughed with you, and rafe just stood back with his stupid grin on his face, but no sense of shame.

topper however gave you a little disheartened wave, and your stomach dropped slightly, knowing he was probably upset that it wasn't him.

"ready to go?" sarah interrupted much to your happiness.

"yeah let's" cleo replied, now holding hands with pope.

the group made their way down the steps of the hotel, the chatter flowing easily now that everyone was outside and on their way to the street.

you caught jj glancing between you and rafe, his eyebrow raised playfully, before he bumped your shoulder with his. “so, how was last night?” he asked with a grin.

you rolled your eyes. “you’re ridiculous.”

"no i'm serious. i want to know. it's been a long time coming." he was speaking in a hushed voice to avoid rafe's ears.

"what do you mean?" you asked.

"he's been talking about you non stop since he met you. like the dressing room chat before shows has been exhausting." he sighed.

"really? then why did it take so long for him to make a move?"

"because you're mysterious at showing how you feel. plus your sarah's friend and he's always been told to stay away."

"but he didn't stay away from me?" you said.

"i don't think he could even if he tried." and with that, jj joined the rest of the group.

rafe then fell in step next to you, his pace slower than the others as he leaned in, his voice low. “are you avoiding me?” he asked with a playful tone.

you shook your head, “now why would i do that?" you replied.

"thought you'd been freaked out by last night." he replied softly, with a hint of fear in his words.

"i would never," you reassured him. "just trying to figure it out."

"figure what out?" he smirked.

you looked at him with sarcastic eyes, shaking your head.

rafe's eyes softened, his eyes meeting yours with intensity “don’t worry,” he said, “i’m figuring it out too.”

his hand brushed against yours, just barely, but it was enough for the electric connection to spark again, making your heart race. you could feel his gaze on you, but when you looked up at him, he was already looking ahead, as if he hadn't done anything at all.

you both fell into step with the others again, the easy banter resuming, but you couldn't shake the feeling that everything had just shifted—and you weren’t sure whether to lean into it or hold back.

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a/n: happy friday guys!! was struggling on how to approach the morning after so i hope this is ok

taglist: @hoefordrewstarkey @marleymarleymarleymarley @bee-43 @cherryhoneybabe @skye-44 @drewrry @drewrry  @yesterdaysproblemm @pogueprincesa @dylsdaily @rafeysworldim19 @valyrianflower @kaiparkerwifes @judesgfirl @4urvalidation @chillgal135 @drewstarkeyslover @yesshewrites1

i will be taking people off taglist if that don't interact! just as more people want to be added and need to make it fair<3

[riqomi]

he's just a friend ˖ 심재윤

제이크 ˖ 𝑓em!r .. g. smut est. relationship ──── BOOKSHELF ( 4347 ) tw. mean dom!jake, raw sex (don’t be silly! wrap your willy), oral f. receiving, jealous!jake, let me know if i missed anything

the tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a knife. jake stood in front of you, arms crossed, jaw clenched, eyes dark with frustration.

“you’re really gonna act like you don’t see it?” his voice was sharp, laced with something deeper—something possessive.

you rolled your eyes, exhaling a heavy breath. “jake, it’s not that deep. he’s just a friend.”

“a friend? you were laughing at all his jokes, touching his arm, letting him get all close to you—”

“oh my god, you’re overreacting!”

he scoffed, stepping closer until your back was against the wall. his warmth pressed into you, and despite the anger in his gaze, there was something else there too—something that sent a shiver down your spine.

“am i?” his voice dropped lower, huskier. his fingers trailed up your arm, slow, deliberate, leaving goosebumps in their wake. “tell me, do you let just anyone touch you like this?”

your breath hitched. the shift in the atmosphere was instant. the heat from the argument hadn’t dissipated—it had transformed into something else entirely.

“jake—”

he didn’t give you the chance to finish. his lips crashed into yours, demanding, hungry. his hands gripped your waist, pulling you flush against him, letting you feel just how much this jealousy had affected him.

“i don’t like sharing,” he muttered against your lips before trailing kisses down your neck, biting just enough to leave his mark.

and tonight? he was going to make sure you remembered exactly who you belonged to.

every breath you took was mingled with the familiar scent of his cologne, a mix of cedar and something distinctly jake—it was intoxicating, grounding, as if he were the only thing that mattered in that moment. you could feel your heart racing, pounding against your ribcage, both from the thrill of his touch and the lingering taste of adrenaline from your earlier argument.

“jake… we shouldn’t,” you managed to whisper, your voice trembling slightly. you could feel the weight of his stare, a fierce intensity that made it hard to think straight. but the way his lips traveled down the length of your neck, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses across your skin, made it difficult to remember why you were even resisting.

“shouldn’t what?” he breathed into your ear, his hot breath sending a thrill through you. “shouldn’t want you? shouldn’t make you mine?” the vulnerability masked by his possessiveness ignited something deep within you, something you knew you had to confront but was terrified to fully embrace.

“jake, you’re being—” but he silenced you once again with another fierce kiss, his lips moving against yours with a desperate urgency. you were lost in the heat, caught between the frustration and the undeniable chemistry that had always simmered beneath the surface. his tongue tangled with yours, coaxing you to forget your protests.

“you don’t get it,” he murmured against your lips, his breath mingling with yours. “i can’t stand the thought of someone else having you like this.” with that, his grip tightened around your waist—steady and possessive—as if he was trying to keep you anchored to him, a silent promise that you were his, and he was not about to let you go.

you felt like a moth drawn to a flame, aware of the danger yet unable to resist its pull. “i’m not a possession, jake,” you finally managed, your voice wavering as his fingers brushed the bare skin of your midriff effortlessly. the contrast between his firmness and the spark of tenderness in his touch made you shiver.

he pulled back for a moment, his eyes searching yours, a flicker of vulnerability breaking through the storm of frustration. “i know you’re not,” he said softly, the roughness in his voice subsiding just a bit. “but when i see you with him—joking and laughing—part of me can’t help but feel scared, feel threatened. i… i care about you. a lot.”

your heart softened at the admission, his own walls beginning to crumble. you reached up, running your fingers along his jaw, feeling the contours of his face, the struggle etched in his features. “i care about you too, jake. but you need to trust me.”

his gaze flickered, and for a moment, you wondered if maybe you were getting through to him. but then, just as quickly, that fire ignited again. “trust, huh? what if i can’t?” he stepped back, just enough to create space, yet you could still feel the magnetic pull between you. “what if i’m not ready to let go of this? the thought of losing you…”

you could see it in his eyes—the mix of fear and desperation. it was raw, it was real, and it made your heart ache in a way you had never expected. “you won’t lose me if you let me in, jake.”

he searched your face, weighing your words against the tumult of jealousy and longing that swirled inside him. you could see the battle he was fighting, the internal struggle between claiming you and giving you the freedom you deserved.

then, with a sudden intensity, he surged forward, capturing your lips again with a passion that felt like both a plea and a declaration. as your bodies pressed closer together, you felt the resolve in him strengthen, his grip on you tightening. you melted against him, surrendering to the moment, the tension from seconds before dissipating into a heat that wrapped around you both like a cocoon.

in that silent space, you both knew: walls would crumble, trust would build, and no one could keep you apart—not when the bond was this strong and this real. together, you would navigate the chaos of emotions, and for tonight, nothing else mattered but the two of you—lost in a world that belonged only to you.

as the kiss deepened, you felt the heat radiating off jake's body, igniting a fire within you that had long been simmering beneath the surface. his hands explored your sides, fingers creeping under the hem of your shirt, brushing against your skin, causing your breath to hitch. you could feel your body responding, arching closer to him, craving more.

with a sudden urgency, he broke the kiss, his forehead resting against yours. his breath was ragged, his eyes dark with desire. “i need to feel you,” he murmured, his voice a deep growl that sent shivers down your spine.

“here?” you whispered, glancing around the dimly lit room. the world beyond the walls seemed distant, fading away as the tension between you crackled like electricity.

he chuckled lowly, a sound that sent a wave of heat washing over you. “just us. only us.”

his hands slipped fully under your shirt, fingers splayed wide against your back as he pulled you against him, the warmth of his body radiating through the fabric. you could feel every inch of him pressing against you, every pulse of his heartbeat syncing with your own.

“jake, i…” you searched his gaze, wanting to communicate your own desire but the words escaped you, overtaken by instinct as your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer.

he responded to your urgency, lifting you off your feet and pressing you against the wall, his strong body pinning you in place. you gasped as the cool surface met your back, contrasting sharply with the heat of his skin. there was no hesitation in his movements; he was feral, desperate, losing himself in the moment.

his lips were on yours again, hungry and demanding, while his hands roamed freely, exploring every curve, every inch of you. with a deft movement, he lifted your shirt over your head, tossing it aside without breaking the rhythm of your kiss. the cool air prickled your exposed skin, heightened by the warmth of his body.

“god, you’re beautiful,” he whispered against your mouth, eyes devouring you. you could feel his desire, an overwhelming presence that made your core tighten with anticipation. the moment hung heavy, electric.

“please,” you urged, feeling brazen in your want. it was more than just physical; it was a connection, a shared need that was raw and urgent. his gaze darkened, and without another word, he captured your lips again, claiming you as he pressed forward, his body a heat that enveloped you.

as he kissed down your neck, planting soft, passionate bites that made you gasp, you reveled in the closeness. your fingers found their way to the waistband of his jeans, exploring boldly, teasingly. he inhaled sharply, responding to your touch with a low growl, pressing you deeper against the wall.

“that’s it,” he murmured, “don’t hold back.” the command was both thrilling and intoxicating, driving you to continue exploring, your hands deftly undoing the button of his jeans. the way he inhaled, the catch in his breath as you slipped your hand inside, was enough to stoke the flames of desire between you.

as your fingers brushed against him, he exhaled sharply, his body responding eagerly to your touch. he thrust into your palm, groaning softly, his need spilling into the space between you. “just like that,” he encouraged, his eyes fierce and possessive.

but then, just as quickly, he caught your gaze and gripped your wrists, halting your movements. “wait…” he said, his voice husky, thick with desire and hesitation. “i want to take my time with you. to make you feel everything.”

your heart raced at his words, excitement blending with the thrum of want coursing through you. “then do it,” you urged breathlessly. “make me yours.”

a smirk danced across his lips as he lowered to his knees, his hands running up your thighs, heat pooling in your core as he slipped your shorts down. the sensation of his mouth brushing against your skin sent jolts of electricity spiraling through you, leaving you breathless.

“i want you to remember how it feels,” he murmured, as his lips feathered kisses against your thighs before they drifted closer to your center. “you’re the only one i want. always.”

with one swift motion, he pulled your body closer to him and wrapped an arm around your waist, his mouth finally making contact. a soft moan escaped your lips, unbidden, as his tongue flicked against you, teasing and exploring. the world outside faded, and all you could feel was the delicious warmth radiating from him.

your fingers tangled in his hair as he worked you into a frenzy, each flick and swirl igniting flames of ecstasy that coursed through your body. “jake, oh god, yes.” you could barely form coherent thoughts; every sensation felt magnified, heightened, as he lavished attention on you, relentless and insistent.

he looked up at you, locking eyes, the heat of his gaze making your heart race even faster. “you’re so beautiful like this,” he murmured, sending vibrations through your body. “so perfect.” and with that, he dove back in, his movements growing more fervent, losing himself in you as you writhed beneath him, breaths coming in ragged gasps.

the pressure inside you built, spiraling tighter and tighter until you felt like you might break apart. “jake… i’m so close,” you cried, the words spilling from your mouth as he pushed you closer to the edge.

he responded with a growl, his fingers moving in perfect harmony with his mouth, forcing you ever closer. the world was nothing but the two of you, the heat between you igniting everything in its path.

with a final surge, you felt yourself tumble over the edge, waves of pleasure crashing over you as you surrendered completely. “jake!” the sound of his name escaped your lips in a breathless cry, your body arching against him as the world exploded in brilliant color.

as the tremors faded, he rose to his feet, a smirk on his face and a sparkle in his eyes that told you he hadn’t even begun to unleash everything he had in store for you. “i told you, tonight you’re all mine.”

your breath came in shaky gasps, the warmth of his body enveloping you as he pulled you close once more. “and i’m not done with you yet,” he growled, his voice filled with a promise that sent another wave of desire surging within you.

with that, you knew the night was far from over; there were depths to explore, sensations to uncover, and you were more than ready to take that plunge with him. as jake captured your lips again, you understood that this was just the beginning.

the kiss deepened, igniting the embers of desire that still smoldered between you. jake pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, his eyes dark with a mix of satisfaction and hunger. there was something primal in his expression, a fierce determination to worship you in ways that made your head spin.

“are you ready for more?” he murmured, his voice low and gravelly, sending shivers racing down your spine. you could only nod, the words stuck in your throat as anticipation coiled in your gut, tightening its grip.

without breaking eye contact, he took your hand, leading you across the room. the atmosphere was thick with the scent of your shared desire, filling the space, wrapping around you like a silken cover. the walls felt like they were closing in, but in a way that excited you, igniting every nerve ending.

jake guided you to the edge of the bed, and you hesitated for just a moment, the reality of where you were settling in. but then that look returned to his eyes—fierce, possessive, and promising—and all doubt melted away. you could see the raw intensity that lay beneath the surface, the overwhelming need to bind you to him in every possible way.

“sit,” he commanded softly, a hint of mischief tugging at his lips. you obliged, your heart racing as you settled onto the cool sheets, watching as he stood before you, like a statue carved from fire and stone. the way he stood, his body taut with muscles, made you hunger for him in ways you hadn’t even thought possible.

he slipped his jeans down and off, revealing a body made for sin—every inch sculpted perfection. the sight of him took your breath away, and you couldn’t help but let your eyes wander hungrily. with each moment, the tension continued to build, an undeniable pull that drew you further into his heat.

he stepped closer, brushing his fingers along your arm, sending electric shocks through your skin. “you make me lose control,” he admitted, his voice a low whisper as he took a knee on the bed, our bodies just inches apart.

“then let go,” you breathed, your voice trembling with anticipation. there was a daring spark in your eyes that he couldn’t resist.

with a predator’s grace, he closed the distance between you, crashing his lips against yours again. but this kiss was different—it held urgency, a promise of what was to come. you felt his hands exploring your body, reviving warmth where the cool sheets had made you shiver.

jake broke the kiss, his breath warm against your cheek. “tell me what you want,” he said, his tone a mix of authority and need, making your heart skip.

without hesitation, you let your desires spill forth. “i want you, jake. i want all of you.” you looked into his eyes, your intent clear. you could see the fire igniting behind those dark depths, and it only fueled your own longing.

“good,” he growled, moving back slightly to take in the sight of you. “because i’m going to make you feel things you’ve never felt before.” the primal promise in his voice sent waves of heat rushing through you.

jake’s hands moved down your body, unhooking your bra and letting it slide off your shoulders. he took his time, dipping his mouth down to place soft kisses along your collarbone, pausing to nibble and tease, taking joy in every reaction you gave.

“look at you,” he murmured, meeting your gaze with an intensity that made your heart pound. “so beautiful, so eager.” he continued his descent, his mouth moving lower, kissing along the swell of your breasts, savoring you as if you were the finest delicacy.

your breath hitched as he captured one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue around it while his hand teased the other, sending shockwaves of pleasure through you. the sensation was electric, and you couldn’t hold back the moans escaping your lips.

“just like that, baby,” he encouraged, his voice thick with lust, and your body responded instinctively, arching towards him, craving more.

he continued his descent, trailing kisses down your stomach, leaving a path of fire that made you squirm with need. when his fingers found the waistband of your shorts, he hesitated, looking up at you, his expression a mix of mischief and longing.

“is this okay?” he asked, his voice a seductive whisper.

“yes, please,” you urged, almost desperate. “i need you.”

with that, he removed your shorts with careful precision, taking in your bare skin with a groan that resonated deep within him. the feeling of being completely exposed under his gaze sent a rush of heat through you, a combination of vulnerability and primal desire.

jake leaned in closer, his breath hot against your core, teasingly lingering just a breath away. “you’re so perfect,” he murmured. “and i’m going to show you just how much.”

his mouth finally made contact, and you gasped—his tongue teasing your sensitive skin, swirling and flicking in a rhythm that had your back arching and your breath coming in quick, ragged bursts. you gripped the sheets, desperately trying to ground yourself, but the sensations were so overwhelming.

with each stroke of his tongue, he pushed you higher, further into the abyss of pleasure. you could feel the coil tightening once again, the sweet heat building and spreading throughout your body as you squirmed beneath him.

“jake, i’m so close…” you managed to breathlessly let out, your hands tangling into his hair as he continued to work his magic.

“not yet,” he replied, glancing up at you, eyes shimmering with undeniable hunger. “i want you to feel every second of this.”

he intensified his efforts, leaving you teetering on the edge, the pleasure great enough that you could hardly think straight. you felt waves of ecstasy ripple through you, threatening to pull you under, but jake wasn’t about to let go of you just yet.

suddenly, he pulled back, leaving you breathless and yearning. you were desperately hungry for him, for more of him—your body screaming for release but wanting his touch even more.

“jake, please,” you begged, your voice a soft whimper. the lust-filled look in your eyes fueled his fire, and you could see the passion flaring within him as he joined you on the bed once again.

“then it’s time i give you everything,” he growled, alignment shifting, his body hovering over yours with an intensity that made your heart race. he positioned himself at your entrance, the heat radiating between you palpable.

with a single thrust, he entered you, filling you completely in a way that made you gasp, your body instinctively responding to his. you could feel every inch of him as he stretched you, the sensation both overwhelming and exhilarating.

“god, you feel amazing,” he breathed, his face taut with concentration as he steadied himself.

it was as if the world fell away, leaving just the two of you, entwined in a primal dance of pleasure. he pulled back slightly, and then thrust deeper, the rhythm building steadily, like a tidal wave surging closer.

you surrendered to him completely, letting him take you higher, letting every sensation sweep you away. “more, jake,” you urged, the sound of your voice filled with need. “give me more.”

he responded with fervor, driving into you with an intensity that sent your senses spiraling. you could feel the heat pooling in your core, your body longing for that release that felt tantalizingly close yet just out of reach.

“just like that,” he grunted, his hands gripping your hips as he set a delicious pace, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge. “you’re so fucking perfect… just for me.”

his words fueled the fire within you, and soon, you felt your body spiraling once again, that familiar heat swirling, growing, until it became almost unbearable. “i’m going to—”

“do it,” he urged, his voice smooth and coaxing. “let go for me. i’ve got you.”

with that, you tumbled over the edge, the waves crashing over you in an exhilarating rush, pulling him along with you. you felt yourself clenching around him, the pulsating waves of pleasure washing through you as you cried out his name, feeling completely and utterly alive.

jake followed right behind you, grunting your name as he released, filling you completely. the world spun around you both as you came down from your high, held tightly in each other’s embrace, the connection between you deepening in ways that words could never capture.

as you lay tangled in sheets and limbs, breathless and satisfied, you knew this night had transformed something inside both of you. whatever uncertainties you had faced moments ago felt small and distant, overshadowed by the bond you had forged in pure, unrestrained passion.

“always mine,” he whispered against your temple, pulling you closer as he finally let the tension of the night subside, leaving only warmth and a gentle sense of calm in its wake. and you knew then, that you were ready for everything that came next.

the aftermath of your passionate encounter left you both breathless, yet an enchanting peace settled over the room as quiet enveloped you. the air was thick with the mingled scents of sweat and lingering desire, but above all, there was a sense of warmth that made your heart swell.

jake shifted beside you, his fingers intertwining with yours as he pulled you closer. you nestled against him, resting your head against his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat—a comforting lullaby that instilled a sense of safety and belonging.

“wow…” you murmured, still basking in the afterglow. the exhilaration of what had just happened began to settle, replaced by a gentle calm as you reflected on the intensity of the connection you’d just shared.

jake chuckled softly, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “i think ‘wow’ might be an understatement,” he replied, his voice laced with warmth and affection. the way he looked at you—those smoldering eyes now filled with adoration—made your heart flutter.

you smiled, feeling a blush creep across your cheeks. “i’ve never felt anything quite like that before,” you confessed, your voice barely above a whisper. his fingers traced lazy patterns on your arm, each touch igniting little sparks of electricity that danced along your skin.

“neither have i,” he admitted, his gaze softening as he met your eyes. “i’ve never felt this way about anyone.” the sincerity in his tone sent warmth flooding through you, wrapping around your heart in a comforting embrace.

there was something undeniably special about this moment—the vulnerability mixed with a deep sense of intimacy that transcended desire alone. it was as if everything that had happened prior to this night had led you both to this very point, entwined in each other’s lives.

“i don’t want this to end,” you murmured, a hint of uncertainty creeping into your voice. jake tilted your chin up gently, his eyes locking onto yours with unwavering certainty.

“then it doesn’t have to,” he replied, the corners of his mouth lifting into a reassuring smile. “i want to be here with you, like this—always.” the weight of his words washed over you, a promise that sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

he leaned in, capturing your lips in a soft, lingering kiss that sent shivers cascading down your spine. it was tender and sweet, a stark contrast to the fiery passion that had consumed you both just moments before. you melted into the kiss, savoring the soft connection as it deepened, leaving you feeling cherished and adored.

as you pulled back, you rested your forehead against his, feeling utterly content. “so, what now?” you asked, a playful glint in your eye.

“now,” he said, his voice low and teasing, “we enjoy every moment of this.” he stretched out his arms, pulling you onto him fully, allowing you to rest against his chest once more. you could feel his warmth envelop you, and it felt like coming home.

he chuckled, his deep voice rumbling through you as he nestled his chin on the top of your head. “we can talk, watch a movie, or just stay like this… feeling each other’s warmth.”

you glanced up, your heart swelling with affection as you caught his gaze. “what about breakfast? i'm definitely going to need breakfast after, uh, all that.”

jake laughed, a rich sound that filled the room and made you smile. “i promise to whip up something amazing. pancakes? eggs? both?”

“definitely both,” you said with enthusiasm, your smile widening at the thought.

“then it’s a plan,” he replied, leaning down to place a gentle kiss on your forehead. you both lingered there for a moment, wrapped in each other’s warmth, savoring the intimacy of the moment.

as you lay together, gently teasing with whispered jokes and laughter, you realized that this was just the beginning of something beautiful—a connection entrenched in more than just passion; it was friendship, warmth, and the promise of what was to come.

and as the soft light of dawn began to filter through the curtains, you knew one thing for sure: you were ready to embrace every moment spent with him, side by side, with laughter and love leading the way. together, you would write the beautiful story of your lives, one day and one moment at a time.

remember my requests are open, feel free to send some !! hope u guys liked this one, im a sucker for jake. pls reblog it would help a lot <33

[insidekatmind]

Argument-Hector Fort

Request: yes!

You're in your room, arms crossed as you stare at Hector with a look full of frustration. Your breath comes in uneven puffs, and he's no different. His usually soft blue eyes are now clouded with anger, his jaw clenched.

"You just don’t get it, do you?" you snap, your voice thick with emotion. "It’s not just about this! It’s about how you make me feel!"

Hector runs a hand through his blonde hair, exasperated. "And what am I supposed to do, Y/N? Tell me! Because no matter what I do, it never seems like it’s enough for you!"

His words hit you in the chest, and you clench your fists at your sides. "It’s not about doing enough, Hector. It’s about understanding me. About seeing me. And sometimes, it feels like you’re too caught up in yourself to do that."

He shakes his head, his breathing heavy. "That’s not true, and you know it. I care about you more than anything. But it feels like every time I try to show you, you find a reason to doubt me."

You bite your lip, your heart pounding in your chest. The tension between you two is palpable, electric. Every word is like a spark that could ignite everything. Hector stares at you intensely, his chest rising and falling quickly.

"Tell me you don’t love me anymore, and I’ll leave," he whispers, his voice thin.

Your breath catches. The world seems to stop for a moment. The mere thought of not having him by your side feels like someone has taken the air from your lungs. But your pride keeps you frozen, staring at him, unable to say anything.

He steps forward, closing the gap between you. His scent surrounds you, familiar and comforting, but the tension doesn’t loosen. He looks at you, desperately searching for an answer in your eyes. And then, suddenly, he breaks every barrier.

His lips crash onto yours with an intensity that leaves you breathless. It’s a kiss full of anger, desperation, saying everything that words can’t express. His hands grab your waist tightly, as if he's afraid you’ll slip away. You respond with the same fervor, your fingers gripping the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer.

The kiss grows deeper, and all the built-up tension turns into a burning desire. Your bodies press together, emotions swirling in an uncontrollable vortex. When you break apart, both of you gasping for air, Hector rests his forehead against yours, his eyes burning into yours.

"Don’t ever make me think you might not want me," he murmurs, his voice rough.

You shake your head, finally letting go of your pride. "I want you. Always."

Hector smiles faintly, his thumb brushing your cheek softly. "Then let’s stop fighting over stupid things."

You nod, and this time, it’s you who kisses him, more gently, letting love take the place of the anger. The kiss lingered in the air, a soft and intimate moment finally broken by Hector's quiet chuckle as your foreheads touch. "I'm sorry," he murmurs, his voice tinged, as usual, with a trace of his thick spanish accent.

You smile softly, kissing his jaw. "I already forgave you baby". He lets out a soft sigh, tilting his head to one side at your kiss, enjoying the tender moment after the argument. "You forgive me too easily," he mutters, a slight teasing in his voice.

You playfully roll your eyes and gently swat his chest, your fingers lingering on his chest a little while longer before pulling away. "Shut up," you respond, your tone light-hearted. "You know I can't stay mad at you for long."

Hector grins, his hand sliding to your hip, giving it a light squeeze. "I know, I know. You're too sweet for your own good." He leans in, brushing his nose against yours. "And I'm lucky to get away with so much."

You let out a soft laugh, your hands moving to rest on his shoulders, fingers tracing light patterns. "You're just a big charmer, and you know it," you say, your voice just above a whisper, the words almost lost in the small gap between your lips.

Hector's grin widens as he moves closer, pressing his body fully against yours. His hand moves to the small of your back, pulling you in even closer. "Well, I can't help it if I'm naturally charming," he teases, his other hand finding its way to your waist, his touch gentle but possessive.

Hector kisses your neck softly, nibbling it. You let out a soft sigh of pleasure as Hector's lips graze your neck, the gentle nibbles sending chills down your spine. Your fingers grip his shoulders tighter instinctively, your body reacting to his touch."Hector," you whisper, both a plea and a warning.

He smirks against your skin, aware of the effect he has on you. "Yes, cariño?" he responds, his lips continuing to explore your neck, moving up to your earlobe, his breath hot against your skin.

Your breath hitches at the nickname, his voice sending fresh sparks of desire through you. "Stop teasing me," you manage to say, your voice shaky but filled with want.

Hector chuckles in amusement and squeezes your ass. "Darling, I don't want to tease you, I just want to make it up to you" he murmurs, playfully nibbling your earlobe. Your breath catches in your throat as his hand squeezes your ass. Your fingers dig into his shoulders, a mixture of desire and mock indignation. "Oh, really?" you respond, your voice betraying your growing arousal. "And how exactly do you plan to make it up to me?"

He grins against your skin, his hand moving lower, gently massaging your ass. "Oh, trust me, cariño, I have a few ideas," he replies, his voice low and sensual. Hector's other hand slips under your t-shirt, his fingers brushing against your bare skin, sending another shiver down your spine.

You had a long day ahead of you.

[ayumigotabittoolonely]

Baby you are the baddest

Baby you are the baddest, baby you are the baddest girl

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: 𝓢𝔂𝓷𝓸𝓹𝓼𝓲𝓼 :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒊𝒔 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒖𝒏𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒚 𝒂𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒔𝒆𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒕𝒕𝒓𝒂����𝒕𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎. 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒅𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒆, 𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒎𝒖𝒄𝒉 𝒐𝒇 𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒖𝒓𝒆 u 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆? 𝒇𝒆𝒂𝒓 𝒏𝒐𝒕, 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒚 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓.

Characters - nanami kento , gojo Satoru and Suguru geto

Gojo Satoru

Jujutsu Tech was hosting a huge party for all the students and teachers, and as one of the teachers, you were excited at least, you tried to be. You had asked Gojo to accompany you, but he refused, saying he was the organizer and had things to handle. So, you arrived alone.

You were wearing

Beautiful Right? Right??

But the moment you stepped in, something felt off. The room was filled with stunning people your coworkers looking absolutely amazing, dressed to impress. You knew you were beautiful, you reminded yourself over and over, but tonight… you just weren’t feeling it.

Then you saw her.

Gojo’s ex.

She was wearing blue too, but hers was a deeper, richer shade. Her dress was shorter, hugging her figure in all the right places. She looked effortlessly stunning, drawing attention from every corner of the room. Compliments flooded her way, and with each one, your confidence sank a little more.

Before you could spiral any further, a loud voice echoed through the room.

"ATTENTION!"

Gojo.

He cleared his throat, a smug grin already forming. Then, as expected, he started the program with one of his signature flirty lines something smooth, playful, the kind of thing he always did. Normally, you’d just roll your eyes, maybe even laugh.

But tonight?

Tonight, it just made you feel worse.

Everyone clapped, the room filled with cheers and applause. Lost in your thoughts, you barely reacted until Utahime lightly smacked your arm, snapping you out of it.

“Come on, at least pretend to enjoy yourself,” she muttered.

You let out an awkward snort, forcing a small laugh as you clapped along with the crowd. But no matter how much you tried to play along, that sinking feeling in your chest just wouldn’t go away.

His eyes scanned the crowd as he spoke, but the moment they landed on you his breath hitched.

For a second, his mind went completely blank.

Why the hell were you looking like that in front of them? Dressed so beautifully, so effortlessly stunning, yet standing there with an unsure look on your face? It made his chest tighten in ways he didn’t expect.

And the worst part? He was the one organizing this damn event meaning he couldn’t just walk over to you, couldn’t pull you aside, couldn’t do a damn thing about the way you were making his head spin.

Frustrating. Absolutely frustrating.

With every passing second, the insecurity crept in deeper. No matter how much you tried to shake it off, the feeling only got worse.

Then, between the chatters and musics, you heard a voice that made your stomach drop.

"Satoru was definitely checking me out. He still thinks about me. Maybe I can get him back." His ex..

Absolutely not. What the fuck?

"Hell nah, he has a girlfriend," her friend scoffed.

But she just waved it off, laughing dramatically before saying something that hit you like a punch to the gut.

"That girl? Yeah, she looks good, but be real would you pick a cute girl with a basic look or someone hotter?"

Her friend chuckled, brushing it off like it was nothing. But you?

You stood there, frozen.

And for the first time tonight, a terrible thought crossed your mind.

Maybe… just maybe… she was right.

You couldn’t do this. Not tonight. Not anymore.

Your chest felt tight, your hands clenched at your sides as those words replayed in your head over and over again. Would you pick a cute girl with a basic look or someone hotter?

Maybe… maybe she was right. Maybe Satoru deserved someone better. Someone who could match his energy, his confidence someone who wouldn’t feel small next to him.

Your vision blurred slightly as you turned on your heel.

Hell nah, you were not staying here any longer.

Maybe you'd even

No. The thought hurt too much to finish.

But a small, painful voice in your head whispered anyway.

Maybe you should break up with him.

Gojo was stress-eating sweets.

He had been trying really trying to get you off his mind, but it wasn’t working. Every time he glanced in your direction, he felt that same frustration bubbling up again. Why the hell did you have to look so good tonight? And why did you look so sad?

He hadn’t even noticed his ex in the crowd. Didn’t care, didn’t want to care. As far as he was concerned, she didn’t exist.

He took a deep breath, ready to continue his speech, when something caught his eye you.

You were leaving.

His heart lurched. And were you… wiping tears?

His stomach twisted, but on the outside, he kept his usual grin. Flashing a charming smile to the crowd, he smoothly passed the mic to Geto without missing a beat.

Then, without hesitation, he followed you.

You walked outside, tears streaming down your face as you tried to steady your breathing. Your chest ached, and no matter how hard you tried to push the thoughts away, they just wouldn’t leave.

Before you could take another step, you heard hurried footsteps behind you.

“Oi—”

Gojo caught up to you in an instant, his usual carefree presence feeling different this time. He let out an awkward laugh, but it wasn’t his usual teasing one. No, this one was tense forced. Because if someone had done this to you, if someone had hurt you enough to make you cry, he would fucking hollow them without hesitation.

This was the first time he had ever seen you like this.

And for the first time in a long time, he felt unsure.

His voice wavered slightly as he reached for you, hesitating before speaking.

“B-baby… who got you crying like that? Tell me, what’s happening?” He tried to mask the worry in his voice, tried to keep up his usual playful charm, but it was useless his concern for you was far too obvious.

You swallowed hard, looking up at him, your heart breaking before the words even left your mouth.

“Gojo… let’s put an end to this.”

What.

The.

Fuck.

His mind short-circuited.

What in the world did you just say?

He looked at you like he had just seen a ghost.

For a moment, he didn’t move just stood there, staring at you, his mind struggling to process what he had just heard. Then, without hesitation, he reached out and grabbed your hand, gripping it tightly like he was afraid you’d slip away.

“It’s not time to joke, babe.” His voice was steady, but there was an edge to it something desperate, something scared.

But you only shook your head.

“I’m not kidding, Satoru.” Your voice wavered, but you pushed through. “I looked at myself… and then at your ex… and I realized no, not realized, because it’s the truth you deserve someone better than me. Someone more attractive, someone at your level. After all… you’re the strongest sorcerer.”

You expected him to laugh it off, to tell you you were being ridiculous. But the way his jaw clenched, the way his grip on your hand tightened just a little more

He wasn’t laughing.

He was mad.

Not the kind of playful, teasing irritation he usually had no. This was different.

It wasn’t just anger. It was disappointment. Not at you, but at the fact that you his girl were standing here, crying, actually believing you weren’t enough for him.

His eyes darkened for a split second, jaw tightening as if he was holding something back. But then, just as quickly, he dismissed it, forcing a smile onto his face.

And if you were being honest… that smile scared you a little.

Before you could say anything, he moved.

Swift, effortless he scooped you up into his arms without warning, ignoring your startled gasp.

“Satoru what the hell?”

“Shh, sweetheart.” His voice was calm, but there was something in his tone that made your breath hitch.

Without another word, he carried you straight to the washroom, his grip firm, his expression unreadable.

He gently pulled you inside the bathroom and started to make out with you.

The moment he locked the door behind you, there were no words.

No hesitation.

Just him grabbing you, kissing you, devouring you.

It was rough, desperate, his lips crashing onto yours with a force that left you breathless. First, you had shown up looking so damn beautiful, completely stealing his focus. And then, you had the audacity to say you wanted to break up because you weren’t enough for him?

Enough for him?

Fucking enough for him?

You were everything to him. The most perfect, precious woman in the world. He saw perfection in every flaw you thought you had, and the fact that you couldn’t see it? The fact that you even doubted it?

It pissed him off.

His hands cupped your face, tilting your head up so you had no choice but to meet his gaze. His eyes burned with something unreadable, something intense, before he let out a sharp breath and snorted a quiet laugh.

Then he kissed you again.

Again.

And again.

“Ooo, look at this woman,” he murmured, his voice low and filled with something dark, something possessive. His hands trailed down, fingertips skimming over your thighs inner thighs, to be precise.

Your breath hitched.

“S-Satoru, what the fuck?” Your voice wavered as you tried to gather your thoughts. “What if people-”

“They’re too busy, babe,” he cut in smoothly, lips brushing against your jaw as his fingers traced slow, teasing circles.

“But what if they catch us…” you whispered, your pulse racing. The last thing you needed was for someone to walk in and see this.

A smirk curled against your skin.

“I hope nobody catches us,” he hummed, fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your panties.

Then, he leaned in, his breath hot against your ear.

“But…” he murmured, voice thick with amusement, "I kinda hope they catch us"

You gasped, hands gripping onto his shoulders when his fingers ghosted over the thin fabric covering your heat.

“You wore blue for me, no?” His tone was teasing, but the satisfaction in his voice was undeniable.

It was true. You had wanted to look good tonight. But more than that, you knew blue was his favorite color.

And yet, as his fingers traced slow, deliberate patterns along your waistbandyou found yourself lowering your gaze , feeling shy.

"You are so gorgeous," he hummed against your skin, his lips trailing along your jaw, pressing slow, lingering kisses.

"Baby, you’re the baddest girl… nobody else matters. Not anyone. Only you."

His voice was low, dripping with conviction, and the way he said it like it was the most obvious fact in the world made your head spin.

It was almost like he was gaslighting you into believing you were the most beautiful woman to ever exist.

And fuck it was working.

He gently pushed your dress up to your waist, exposing your soft skin to the cool air. His touch was slow, deliberate like he was savoring every moment, every reaction.

Then, with the same maddening patience, he hooked his fingers around your panties and slid them down, removing them effortlessly.

But instead of tossing them aside, he smirked and casually slipped them into his pocket.

You gasped, your breath hitching as you instinctively clamped a hand over your mouth.

His smile only grew.

"Oh?" he mused, tilting his head, eyes dark with amusement. "Shy now, baby?"

You said nothing your breath caught in your throat as he leaned in, pressing slow, open-mouthed kisses against your neck. Each one sent a shiver down your spine, his lips warm, teasing, possessive.

Your fingers curled into his shoulders, gripping onto him as he moved lower, his kisses trailing along your collarbone.

Then, without breaking contact, you heard the soft clink of metal.

Your eyes flickered down just in time to see him unfastening his belt, the sound making your stomach tighten with anticipation.

Satoru smirked against your skin.

"Still think I don’t want you, baby?" he murmured his voice dripping with amusement as he pulled his belt smoothly.

You swallowed hard, heat rushing to your face as he slowly slid the belt from its loops, letting it fall to the floor with a quiet thud. His fingers moved next, unbuttoning his pants with agonizing slowness like he was giving you a chance to stop him, to protest, to run.

But you didn’t.

You couldn’t.

Not when his lips returned to your neck, kissing, biting, claiming you.

His hands roamed over your bare thighs, squeezing, kneading his touch firm yet teasing, possessive yet gentle. He was so big, his presence alone swallowing you whole.

"Still quiet?" he murmured, voice laced with amusement as his fingers traced the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. "Not gonna fight me on this?"

Your breath hitched when his fingers slipped higher, parting your thighs with ease.

"Satoru—"

"Shh, sweetheart." His thumb brushed against your clit, barely applying pressure, yet it was enough to send a shiver through you.

Your legs instinctively tried to close, but his grip was firm.

"Uh-uh," he tutted, his other hand gripping your hip. "You’re not running from me now."

You let out a shaky breath, fingers digging into his arms as he kept up his slow, torturous pace, his touch deliberate, calculated meant to break you.

His lips brushed against your ear, his voice dropping lower, thick with something dark and dangerous.

"Let me show you just how fucking perfect you are."

And that’s how it was Satoru making love to you in the bathroom, his touch reverent yet desperate, like he needed to prove something to you.

You muffled your gasps and moans, biting your lip, your hands gripping onto him as he moved against you, within you, filling every inch of your senses.

His eyes never left yours, filled with something deeper than lust something raw, devoted.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured against your skin, pressing kisses wherever he could reach.

“So fucking perfect for me.”

He watched you intently, drinking in every expression, every quiet sound, and when you looked up at him desperate, vulnerable he swore under his breath, leaning in to kiss you again.

As if he could make you feel just how much he meant every word.

He didn’t stop.

Didn’t stop touching you, didn’t stop kissing you, didn’t stop whispering words that made your chest ache and your stomach tighten.

"God, baby… you have no idea what you do to me." His voice was hoarse, filled with something dangerous, something utterly worshipful.

"You’re not just beautiful. You’re stunning. The kind of gorgeous that makes people stop and stare, but they don’t even know the half of it."

His hands slid over your body, tracing every curve, every inch of skin like he was memorizing you.

"It’s not just your looks, sweetheart." He pressed a lingering kiss to your collarbone, then another, his lips trailing up your neck. "You. It’s you. Your smile, your laugh, your stubborn little attitude that drives me crazy."

You whimpered when he thrust deeper, and he groaned at the way you clenched around him.

"You’re so fucking smart, too," he continued, his voice dropping lower. "The way you think, the way your mind works I swear, it’s the sexiest thing about you."

His fingers threaded through yours, pinning your hand above your head as he met your gaze.

"And don’t even get me started on how kind you are," he breathed, his tone almost pained. "You care so much about everything, about everyone but you don’t even realize how easy it is to love you."

Your heart clenched.

"You are everything to me," he whispered, his lips brushing against yours. "So don’t you ever say you’re not enough for me again."

Then, with a smirk, he tilted his head and added,

"If anything, I should be worried about keeping up with you, gorgeous."

After some moments, you heard the click of heels approaching, and before you could even react, the door swung open.

It was none other than his ex.

Her eyes widened in pure shock, and her makeup kit slipped from her hands, crashing to the floor with a loud clatter.

But Satoru?

He didn’t stop.

Didn’t even flinch.

Instead, he smirked, his movements slow and deliberate as he reached for his discarded jacket and draped it over you, shielding your exposed skin.

Then, as if this was the most casual thing in the world, he turned to her and tilted his head.

“Oh?” His grin was lazy, smug. “Didn’t see you there.”

His grip on your hips tightened possessively before he let out a soft chuckle, his tone downright mocking.

“Hope we didn’t… interrupt anything.”

His ex ran away crying, heels clicking rapidly against the floor as she bolted out of the bathroom.

Satoru barely spared her a glance.

His attention was still on you.

His smirk softened into something more genuine as he gazed down at you, his hands gently running over your waist, your thighs, as if grounding you.

“Look at you, baby,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your flushed cheek. “So fucking pretty… too pretty to be worrying about anyone else.”

You tried to say something, but your head was spinning, your body still trembling from everything. Words felt impossible.

Satoru chuckled, tilting your chin up to meet his eyes, his expression dripping with admiration.

“Lightheaded already? Cute,” he teased, but his tone was filled with nothing but warmth.

He kissed you again slow and deep before murmuring against your lips,

“Let’s get you cleaned up, gorgeous.”

Satoru cleaned you up with a level of care that made your heart ache his usual teasing replaced with soft kisses, gentle touches, and whispered praises.

“Still with me, sweetheart?” he murmured, smoothing down your dress and fixing your hair, his blue eyes scanning your face like he was checking for any signs of discomfort.

You nodded, still too dazed to form actual words, and he chuckled, shaking his head.

“God, I wrecked you, huh?” His smirk returned, but his touch remained soft, almost reverent.

Before you could even try to respond, he scooped you up into his arms effortlessly.

“Satoru—”

“Nope, not letting you walk,” he said firmly, pressing a kiss to your temple as he carried you out of the bathroom. “You look too fucked out to stand properly. And besides…” He grinned down at you. “Gotta make sure everyone sees you wrapped up in my jacket, looking all cute and satisfied.”

Your face burned as he carried you back into the party like you were the most precious thing in the world.

Every single head turned.

Gasps. Stares. Murmurs.

Your coworkers exchanged looks, some shocked, some amused.

And his ex?

Nowhere to be seen.

Satoru, on the other hand, was absolutely thriving. He wore his usual cocky grin, his chest puffed out like he had just won the grandest prize of all.

Which, in his eyes, he had.

Because you were his.

And he had just made damn sure everyone knew it.

And in that moment, wrapped up in his arms, surrounded by the warmth of his jacket and the even warmer way he looked at you

As he carried you through the party, past all the stares and whispers, he leaned down, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple before murmuring against your skin

“You know… in this whole damn world, you’re the only one who can bring me to my knees.”

His voice was soft, but his words carried weight, filled with something undeniable.

Because Satoru Gojo the strongest, the untouchable, the man who stood above all

Would willingly fall for you, every single time.

All your insecurities melted away.

[sorceressofthesky]

Something I find really compelling about Zaundads is the fact that you can clearly see the division between their ideologies in the way they show their love. When Silco and Vander were still a pair, Silco loved Vander for his brutality. He loved Vander because he was angry at the world; because he was fierce and tenacious and capable of devastating violence. He respected Vander's willingness to fight for the cause and his loyalty to their shared ideals. And we know from Silco's parenting of Jinx that when he loves someone, he uses them. That's not to say this is a good or bad thing, but just an observation. He loves people for the potential he sees in them - in Vander, it's his capacity for violence, and in Jinx, it's her capacity for chaos and destruction - and a big part of how he shows love is by fostering that potential. Creating the means and motivation to use it. He lives by the notion that "there's a monster inside all of us", which started with his perception Vander, and extended to Jinx later on. He sees a monster in himself too, but he's not a naturally violent person, so he surrounds himself with people who he does see as strong and capable, and channels his indignation through the people he trusts most.

Meanwhile, when Vander loves someone, he's gentle with them. He has this innate protective instinct that drives him, and he's capable of summoning his brutal side when his world is under threat, but his default is care and affection. With his kids, it comes out mostly in the form of guidance; being a calm voice of reason when it's needed. We don't see it as much with Silco given the lack of insight into their past, but we do have hints of it in the flashback - with both Silco and Felicia. Silco already has a bowl of soup and a cup at the start of the scene, which, based on context clues, were most likely prepared for him by Vander. Vander also pours drinks for the three of them, and upon finding out that Felicia is pregnant, he replaces hers with a non-alcoholic option. His automatic response to her distress is to comfort and console her ("you're going to be a great mother"). In contrast, Silco listens silently for most of the conversation, and contributes in the only way he knows how - by agreeing to continue the fight for Zaun, no matter the cost.

And I think, ultimately, this would have always created a division between Vander and Silco. Whether or not Felicia and Connol were killed in the explosion. Whether or not the kids were even in the picture. It was inevitable that somewhere down the line, Silco would keep pushing the limits, and he would reach one that Vander couldn't exceed. Felicia's death might have been the catalyst for the betrayal, but it seems like the ideological rift ran a lot deeper than that - particularly noting the line from Vander in S1E3; "You had my respect, the Lanes' respect, but that... that was never enough for you." The phrasing makes it sound like he was already fed up with just how far Silco was willing to go for justice.

Vander regretted the violent way he went about the split, but I don't get the impression that he ever regretted the actual decision to part ways with Silco. Which actually creates another interesting contrast in itself, because Silco's perspective was the complete opposite. Silco had already forgiven Vander for the drowning incident by the time they met up again. The murder attempt was brutal, and Silco is unquestionably traumatised by it, but he never stopped respecting Vander, nor does he ever ask why he did it. Because that isn't the part he's hung up on. He understands why Vander went about the betrayal in such a vicious manner. Anger and violence were what he loved about Vander in the first place, and as such, Vander trying to drown him was consistent with everything Silco knew and respected about him. The Vander he didn't understand was the one who gave up on fighting out of fear of what he might lose, and that was the Vander he resented.

Reconciliation is definitely possible between them, and that's clear even without regarding the S2E7 AU, because it happens in the main timeline. Silco is given a choice between his dream and Jinx, and the first place he goes to deliberate is the Vander statue, because finally, he does understand. He understands why Vander bent to the Enforcers' will just to keep his kids safe. But he only understands it because, by that point, he's lived it himself. In an alternate timeline scenario, if Silco were to forgive Vander, there would need to be some other catalyst that triggers that understanding. It would take a lot more than simply reading an apology letter - not because of how terrible the apology was, but because Vander was apologising for the wrong thing.

[neovillains]

DEATHBED | PART THREE.

( NO INTEGRITY : FUSHIGURO TOJI ) you never typically accepted male clients, but after being the only one left in the office, you let your fear consider your safety. and now... you're kind of grateful for it. | watch time: 4.0k words.

── perverted gilf!toji fushiguro & esthetician!reader, fem-bodied!reader (s!her pronouns), toji gets a manzilian, high age gap, bribery, sadomasochism, facial, masturbation, oral fixation, blowjob/deepthroating, dirty talk, features esthetician!geto suguru, etc.

notes. i had so much fun writing this tee bee ayche. i want toji to cum all over my face. n e weighs... we almost done ! one more chapter to go !

gojo satoru | nanami kento | sukuna ryoumen

You never really took in male clients. It’s something you made sure of early in your career of being an esthetician. It only took one man to put the entire gender on the hard no list. However, as this older man stands in front of you, hazel green eyes that intimidate and should send alarms through your mind, you’re contemplating on making an exception. From his ID, he’s in his late seventies. He should be mature enough to handle what he’s requesting— a manzilian. 

Looking at the clock, it’s inching closer to six p.m., when you’re supposed to be clocking out for the evening. The clerk having left already and leaving you to your lonesome, anxiety spikes within you and being your sole reason for why you’re even considering scheduling an appointment with him. You inhale through your nose, exhaling through your mouth. You glance at his idea once more, reading his name as you’re typing his name into the system— Fushiguro Toji. 

Then, you’re glancing up at him. Salt n’ pepper hair, and lines underneath his eyes that show his years. His eyes pierce into yours, still waiting for you to confirm it. He cocks up an eyebrow, impatience growing inside of him. “Are you usually this slow?”

“Sorry,” you say under your breath, eyes going back to the screen as you click on the calendar, checking the most available slots. You grumble to yourself when you see that you have an opening just for tomorrow at five. You consider lying, but rationally, you know it would be better to get this over with quickly more than anything else. “I have tomorrow at five available. Is that fine with you?”

“Yes,” he answers curtly.

“And if you’d like,” your eyes light up when you see your male coworker also has an opening alongside your name, taking the opportunity. “Our male esthetician is open—”

“You’ll do just fine.” Your heart drops. You can tell that this man means what he says and that any type of persuasion would be shut down. But, you still try. 

“Are you sure?” you continue. “You might find yourself more comfortable—”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine with just you,” he interjects once more. The corner of his lips rising and when you look at that scar, anger fills you. You’d love to make it deeper. 

Of these years that you’ve been an esthetician, you think you’d have grown a backbone. You thought you had, but whenever issues with clients came up, you always had someone else along your side to back you up. Right now, that desperation to go home and the fear of being the only worker inside the building runs all sense away from your mind, making you too afraid to stand up for yourself in the possibility of experiencing any harassment. So, as quickly as possible, you type in the information you need, asking him for his form of payment before he slides his debit card into your hand and you click confirm. 

“Just check to see if you’re received a notification that your appointment has been scheduled and you’ll be all set for the night,” your voice is higher than typical, looking up at the man behind the desk and watching as he pulls out his phone. You can’t help but notice how veiny his hands are, littered in melanated dots as he swipes across the screen. When he sees the text in regards to the appointment, he gives a curt nod and a grunt. “Got it.”

“Great,” you say, letting out a deep breath as you reach for your handbag and head towards the door. “Well, have a good night! I’ll be seeing you tomorrow evening.”

However, as you reach for your car keys inside of your bag, you can still feel his calling presence over you. “You’re closing up, right?” 

“No,” you lie. “Our last esthetician’s cleaning up around back.”

“Hm,” he huffs, silently calling your bluff, but doesn’t say anything else about it. “Let me walk you out. It’s getting dark out.”

Oh, your eyes widen. That was the last thing you were expecting from him. Though, you still hesitate, glancing outside of the building. You typically park in the closest parking spot. Who wouldn’t? It’s very convenient, but it’s coincidental how you were running late today and someone else managed to snag your habitual spot. Now, you have to walk a fair distance to your car. “Thank you.”

The walk is silent and he never says anything to you, simply waiting for you to unlock your car door. He opens it for you, watching you drop your bags onto the passenger seat before getting inside yourself. Good night, he told you before shutting the door and walking away, never giving you a moment to respond back. As you start up your car, you wonder if your judgment has been misplaced. Maybe your appointment with the man wouldn’t be as bad as the nightmare stories you’ve heard and experienced. 

—

When you’re finished with your second to last appointment, you glance at the clock. You have fifteen minutes to prepare for your last appointment for the day, something you’ve been anticipating to get over with so that you can go home. Sanitizing the bed and cleaning out the wax melter, you’re surrounded by silence before leaving the small room. Conveniently, Geto Suguru— the only esthetician to work in the afternoon alongside you— is in the main area. Pulling off his gloves before glancing at you, he motions you to follow him. Bringing you to the side, a look of concern washes over his face.

“I can’t believe you accepted a male client,” eyebrows scrunched together, he gets straight to the point. “Why didn’t you mention to me that someone came in after I left? I would’ve come back to handle it.”

“I didn’t want to bother you with that,” you explain. “You were probably at home by the time he came in.”

“Yeah, but it doesn’t matter,” Geto says. “You know I’m willing to drop everything if you need the help. We’re here for each other.” 

“Don’t worry, Sug,” you try to calm his worries. “I’m just going to hope and pray that everything goes smoothly and try to go as quickly as I can.”

“I’m going to wait for you tonight,” he says, leaving you nowhere to argue. Nonetheless, you try. 

“Sug,” your shoulders drop, exasperated. “You don’t have to.”

“I don’t have to, but I will.” Just as he says that, the bells to the door jingle. You hear Geto’s deep sigh. “Speak of the devil and he shall appear—” In a low voice, Suguru whispers. “—That’s him, right?”

“Yeah,” you say, nudging him. “And go home—” you point. “—don’t wait for me.”

He doesn’t say anything, but underneath your skin, you know that there’s no way that he actually listened to you. Toji’s eyes are on you and you put on a bright smile. “Good evening. How’re you?”

“I’m doing alright,” the older man answers simply. You check the time, realizing you only have five minutes before his appointment officially starts. And instead of taking responsibility, you blame your lack of preparation on your coworker. Damn, Sugu. 

“That’s great,” you chirp. “Give me around five minutes and I’ll call you back to get started.”

He nods silently before finding a seat in the waiting area.  You put some pep in your step, heading back into the room and getting everything ready. Though you did the brunt of what you needed to do, you wipe down the bed once more heading to the door and poking your head out, you meet his sitting stature focused on the running television. 

“Fushiguro,” you call his last name out, catching his attention. “I’m ready. You can come on back.”

Leading him inside, you hold the door open for him as you gesture to the bed. “I remember you briefly telling me this isn’t your first time getting a manzilian, but would you like for me to do a brief rundown of what to expect?”

“If it means hearing more of your voice, then that’s alright with me, love.” The sentence catches you off guard, making your heart plummet to the pit of your ass. Your body stiffens up as you turn yourself away from the man so you don’t have to look him in the eye. The way he had said it so seamlessly makes your skin crawl. You feel a bit foolish to have dropped your guard simply because he offered to walk you to your car last night. Letting out a breath, you ignore his sentence. 

“Because you’re an older man, it might be more painful for you, so I’ll try to be as gentle as possible, but—” After your brief rundown of the expectations, you give him a bit of privacy before coming back inside. You change into another pair of gloves before reaching for the thing of wax and the strips. The thin veil of the paper-like cover rests over his lap as he lays patiently on the bed. You just want to get this done as quickly as possible. “Are you ready? First, I’ll be cleaning you up first, but do you feel prepared for me to start the entire process?”

Mhm is his only response before you’re asking him to rest his feet up. “At any point, you want to stop, just let me know.”

“I’m pretty sure with hands like yours, you’ll be treating me very sweetly,” he says. “Don’t worry, dear.”

Drowning out everything, you lift up the veil before pausing. Over the past couple of years, you’ve taught yourself to keep up a stoic expression, keeping yourself as calm and collected as possible. However, you can feel your eyes widen ever so slightly and you feel like the most unprofessional esthetician ever just at the fact that you’re gawking over this older man’s appendage. 

When he walked in last night, you had taken into account his build. You can tell that in his younger years, he did extensive workouts and deeply cared for his body. He was handsome for his age and you can tell that he knew that. He was silent, but there was a silent stir of confidence within him that you couldn’t ignore. And even now, while you’re stagnant, you can feel a heat of confidence building up inside of him. Still, however, you never look as you’ve calculated inside of your head that he’s at least eight inches, probably— most likely— bigger than that. And you don’t like how you feel something in the pit of your stomach, and it’s not due to discomfort. 

Just like you’d typically do, you clean him up. When you feel a tremor from his leg, you pause and finally look up. “Are you alright?”

“You can keep going,” he says, not directly answering your question. Shoulders dropping as you try your best to relax, you continue. And it’s apparent, the erection that’s building up as you clean his pubic hair. You’re gentle and careful with every move you make, noticing how his chest rises every time your glove-clad hands graze his length. It’s strikingly silent that it’s killing you. Typically, you liked to spark up conversations during your client’s appointments, but what were you to say to a man that’s getting hard from simply being cleaned?

After you finish cleaning him, you dispose of the cloth before switching into another pair of gloves. Reaching for the wax and the strips, you pause. “I’m going to start waxing. Just like before, let me know if you’d like to stop at any point.”

“Yeah, okay,” he says gruffly.  And with that, you adjust his legs before setting the wax onto the strip. A sense of haste runs over you as you plaster on the strip and then quickly ripping it off. It was your preferred method as the shock seemed to make it less painful. Majority of your clients liked that you said no warning and just ripped it off. 

It seemed to be the same way for Toji. Despite the curse muttered from under his breath, his cock jumped as a strip of hair was extracted from his skin. You glanced up, waiting for him to say anything, but he never did. Continuing forth, you noticed how his tip started to leak pre. You tried to ignore it, but you started to subconsciously go slower, which only seemed to be fortunate on the older man’s part.

Toji should feel some shame within him. To insist on you giving him a manzilian and for the blatant flirting he’d throw your way on occasion, but fuck, he doesn’t. The feeling of your hand against him, gently cleaning him before hastily pulling at his skin with no sense of TLC. It only continued to spark that heat within him, making him painfully hard. Precum leaked through his mushroom-shaped tip and he didn’t feel any sort of humiliation for it. He was a man and for him, this was normal. However, while he usually didn’t need anyone to touch his length directly, he was yearning for more the more you went on.

Your moves were getting slower and it was as though you were edging him now. Gnawing at his bottom lip, when he felt your hands touch at his pelvis, finally clearing off his inner thighs, he felt a pathetic sense of desperation run through him. “How much would it take?”

“Huh?” He had evidently caught you off guard, causing you to retract. 

“How much could I pay you,” he started, “to let me masturbate?”

Halting all actions, you nearly knock over the thing of melted wax. You stumble to catch it, making the older man chuckle. “There's no reason to make a mess now. ‘S just a simple question.”

On the other side of the door, the moment that Geto heard the slight fumble, he was quick to his feet, standing behind the door and knocking on it. “Everything alright in there?”

You curse to yourself, your coworker’s voice not doing anything to settle your nerves. “Yeah, Sugu. Just clumsy as always.”

There’s a pause before he responds, “Alright.”

When you no longer see the shadow of Geto’s shoes from under the door, you let out the breath you were subconsciously holding. “Don’t tell me you had a guard dog out for me. I’m not gonna hurt you, love.”

“I don’t know that,” you answer truthfully. “If you want, you could probably kill me right now.”

“Probably,” he doesn’t deny. “But, you’re not dead right now, so that should let you know all you need to.”

You look him in his eyes and then back to his hardened length. He chuckles before you could truly contemplate and dissect what he’s asked you. “How much?”

“Is there a possibility that I can say no?”

“Yes, but you wouldn’t have a few extra bucks in your pocket.”

“75,000 yen.”

“45,000,” he quips instead.

“70,000.”

“50,000.”

“60,000,” you watch his eyes squint, considering it. He nods, “Fine.”

You watch as he knocks off the veil, letting it slowly fall to the ground before wrapping his fist around himself. The size of his hand makes him seem small. He shudders, his hands feeling like ice against his cock as he waits. It calls for confusion from the both of you as he waits expectantly. “You can continue.”

“Continue what?” He finds your moment of idiocy to be adorable, making him chuckle once more, “Continue waxing me.”

“That’s unsanitary,” you start. “You could possibly start bleeding and I—”

“This entire situation is unprofessional and I could have your license revoked,” he finishes for you. “Would you prefer that instead? Don’t worry, if I bleed, I won’t report you, love.”

You slouch forward, reaching for another strip and trying to continue as if your client isn’t palming at his cock as you try to maneuver around him. Your hands start to shake as his fist moves up and down. He’d stop ever so often to rub over his tip, smearing the precum around it. So copious as he causes his length to glisten. 

You don’t like how you feel yourself growing aroused, clenching around nothing as you wonder what he’d feel like inside of you. And he finds your squirming to be adorable as you try desperately to keep yourself together as you rip hair from his skin. You could’ve finished a long time ago, but you’ve come to enjoy watching this. You won’t admit it, but you find it intriguing how a man finds pleasure in pain and there’s a boost of confidence within you knowing that you’re the one inflicting it. 

There are points in time where Toji would stop, feeling himself close to releasing. His hands would be back to the base of his length as you’d pull another strip. It wasn’t until you were on your last spot that he finally decided to let go. His balls would slap against his fist every time it came down and the wetness of himself jerking off while he was being waxed sounded the room. He wondered if your coworker could hear and he wondered that, if he did, what was stopping him from interfering?

And the possibilities that coursed through his mind only egged on his impending orgasm. Your touch rivalled between rough and soft. When your glove-clad hands gently rested against his thigh before the next hand pulled at the wax strip, it was all that it took for him to release. 

Your gasp was high-pitched, the feeling of cum hitting your spray as Toji’s head hit the bed in relief. He didn’t care, simply continued to aim for your pretty little face and you let it happen. Again, a next set of knocking came to the door. Geto, again. “(Y/N), are you sure you’re alright?”

You didn’t want to sound annoyed, knowing that he was only looking out for you and your well being, but you did remember telling him that you would be fine. “I’m alright! I just nearly burnt myself.”

“Shit,” you can hear from the otherside, a set of keys following that sent your heart racing. “Do you need help? Is it bad?”

“No,” you answer. You’d feel embarrassed to have him walk in on you in this current predicament, and it’d go against protocol. “I said nearly. I’m alright.”

Checking the time, it’s almost been an hour. With a sigh, you just want Geto gone. “Look, I understand why you’re staying late and I appreciate it, but I really am fine. Just go home. If I need help, I’ll call this time, okay?”

When he doesn’t answer, you ask again. “Okay?”

“Okay,” he sighs. “Have a good night.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

When there’s silence, your older client chuckles. “You should've run him off a long time ago.”

You don’t answer him, watching as he comes to sit up before you place a hand against his chest. Your heart starts racing as you take into consideration what you’re about to do. “Wait—” despite his release, you can still see it. He’s still hard. Pulling off your gloves and aiming them towards the trash, your fingertips graze his shaft. “—Let me…”

You don’t have to say anything more before he gives you the okay and he’s leaning right back into position. The corner of his mouth, where his scar is, twitches upward. Looking down at you like this, he finds you so pretty like this. This young esthetician’s face was covered in his seed, and now she’s offering herself up to continue on the session. He’s never gotten to experience this, quickly believing he’s found himself a keeper. 

You reach for the hand that was previously connected to his cock, noticing the droplets of cum still staining them. You’ve become bold in the timespan, holding eye contact when your mouth opens and your tongue lulls out to clean off his fingers. Plump lips wrapping around the digits and suckling on them until the only thing that’s coating them is your saliva. When they’re nice and clean, you’re dipping to his length. 

Your dominant hand takes hold of it, your heartbeat picking up as you’re still incredulous to the sheer size of him. You pause, taking in a deep inhale before your mouth opens once more. You can still smell the stench of wax, the years of working making it ingrained in your senses that it nearly overpowers any bad body odor. Toji watches how your lips wrap around his thick cockhead, how your eyelashes flutter upwards to look at him. 

To think that the previous night, you were trying to ship him off to that long-haired brooding esthetician and now, that fear is leaving you to the point where you offered yourself up to him. He feels triumphant as he feels arousal leak through his tip once more, but this time, on your tongue. “I bet that pretty pussy of yours is all wet.”

He’s right. Your panties cling to your pussy, a wet patch well formed from the past hour and only worsening now that your lips are around his cock. His hand reaches to caress your face before it travels to the back of your head. Your hair combed into one, he grips at the band and forces you to take more of him. He lets out a breath, “Saw the way your cute body was squirming around watching me. All you young girls are just sluts nowadays, I swear. You’re the only one who holds no shame in it.”

He pushes your head down until your lips are at the base, the head of his cock, hitting the back of your throat and causing you to gag. The corner of your eyes prick with tears before he’s pulling you off and giving you a chance to catch your breath. 

“Ah,” he tsks. “Seems like I gotta train your throat to handle me. You’ll take down that stupid rule of yours, right? Just for me?”

You nod, inhaling deeply as your chest rises and falls. Toji chuckles. “Good girl. I’ll probably have to train that pussy, too, it seems— wrap your hand around the base.”

It’s so seamless how he goes to throw commands at you, and it should be embarrassing how obedient you’ve become. Doing as told, you don’t waste a second to wrap your mouth around him once more. However, he takes all control and fucking your mouth like you’re just a toy for him. 

You’re grateful that Geto left, not wanting him to hear what’s happening behind closed doors and how you’ve gotten yourself in this predicament. The man’s cum has long dried up on your face, but fuck, he’s imagining the possibility of making it messier. This time he has his imagination running rampant as he uses your mouth to get off. And you’re imagining the possibility of him filling you up, spurting his load in you as you let this old man take advantage of your body. 

His veins protrude, blue highlighting his skin in lines as he uses his strength to use you. Weakly, his hips rise to meet your lips as he’s enveloped by your wet warmth. This orgasm is all too quick to approach him and he has no intention to stop, feeling how your grip has tightened around the base. 

“Fuck,” his voice is guttural and raspy. “Gonna cum in your mouth, and you’re gonna swallow, right?”

You mumble around his length, but that short nod is all he needs. The vibrations sent waves through him and called for his release. You feel the way his cock twitches inside your mouth before tasting the salted seed kiss the back of your throat. And just like he asked, you’re swallowing him as you feel his grip on you weaken before finally letting go.

Gradually, you remove yourself from him and catch your breath, your chest rising and falling in a rushed rhythm. When the both of you have cleaned yourselves up, you leave together. Though, when Toji goes to walk you to your car, he squeezes your ass before holding the door open for you and leaning to whisper in your ear, “That pussy will be the next thing I claim the next time we meet, alright?”

Nodding, you whisper out a ‘yes.’

Bidding you a good night, Toji leaves you to your lonesome. When you get home, you make a small change to your rules.

( subscriptions. ) @clqxuds @naomigojo @alcera @nanamineedstherapy @s-1-xx @lotuslovers @r0ckst4rjk @mutsu422 @sukubusss @twinky-wink @levkuna @des-todoroki @bakarinnie @hanham10 @seppyco @simpingforheros @nanasukii28 @littlelilies @strawberriesrule @billiondollarworth @keiette @konekobby @stargirl-mayaa @ratedrrrr @leocancerlibra @strawberrymiguel @princess-vibes25 @ravenbc @inzanekillian @palegardenrebel @saik-k @sukunaspillow @serendippindots

[sukeruton-san]

A Coffee Heart pt 2

First Next

There's a coffee shop in Gotham that allowed him way more caffeine than Amity allowed. . .

He likes it here he can have 21 shots of expresso and all he got was an eye roll with some grumbling about a guy named Tim and twins, it's great!!

_______________________________________________

___________A table in the far corner______________

Do I have a twin. . .

No seriously does he have an unknown twin cause standing at the register is a guy that looks so much like him, but not exact enough to be a clone.

We both have pitch black hair the same thick and soft kind but his is infinitely more fluffy and wild like his Red Robin look, bright blue eyes with analytical intelligents and slightly unhinged but his are more icey in color and somehow more dead inside,both our body types are small soft and lean with muscle, small waist, and rounded in the hips, shoulders in mid range, but he has more curves with his shape he's also worriedly more skinny to an unhealthy degree even in my standards, face shapes similar but his are little more angle too it, hell even our voices are similar his being softer and a little deeper than mine

What made me really catch my attention was the fact that he's coffee intake is just as death inducing as mine maybe even more deadly. Hes eye bags are worse then mine from what I can see from here which is across the fucking room.

So I have reasonably concluded that he is my twin. I mean there was a popular rumor that Janite was pregnant with twins and gave one up to adoption as soon they came out with how big she got. Maybe it was true when I am look at someone who has to be related to me.

Though this begs the question where he has been the entire time, He may be visiting with how he has an Midwestern accent but he also holds himself like an Gotham native.

hnmmmmmm. . .

What's he doing?. . .

He's comING OVER HERE ABORT ABORT ABO-

_______________________________________________

"Um you mind if I sit here for a little all the tables are full"

Why he look familiar? Have I seen him before? . . .

Wait that's Timothy Drake-Wayne Co-CEO of Wayne Enterprises, I only know him because of the research binge for the Gothampedia and Tucker's fanboying.

He probably wants some privacy. . .

Probably to relax a little bit and be normal if he's just drinking some coffee in the back corner, alone. He looks nervous as hell too probably don't want any unwanted attention brought to himself, I sure as hell know the feeling

" No it's fine you can sit here "

Is it just me or does he look a little eager

" Cool I'm Danny by the way " sitting and taking a sip of his coffee he notices that Tim seems to be in some sort of dilemma with himself finally he asked

" So you happen to be around and about here often?" He drinks his own coffee

" No, just found this little shop" he cringed a little "I was draged here because my parents wanted to work on something here"

Tim Slightly invested slightly worried " What are they working on?"

" They uhh want to 'help make Gotham more prepared for dangers that may arise in the haunting world' their words not mine"tilting his head slightly to the left "to be fair I think the bats have all that covered, no need to interfere and cause more problems than what it's worth" grumbling under his breath " Don't want them to get on the bats radar cuz they are doing reckless shit and I have to clean it up"

_______________________________________________

Tim is slightly panicking now who are his twins adopted parents and why are they wanting to 'prepared for dangers that may arise in the haunting world'?

What does the haunting world mean?

What does he mean by causing more problems?

Are his parents escaped midwestern rouges or something?

Does he need to do a welfare check on him as Red Robin?

Also he was pretty sure he wasn't supposed to hear that last part but that's just making him more worried.

How reckless can they get?

How many times has he had to clean up their messes?

What does he do. . .

(Thank you for helping me with the idea for the next chapter @ghostlysuitnight )

[thewavesofmel]

The Voicemail

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Word Count: 1.5K

A/N: Hello! I have read some Bucky Barnes fanfics over the years and have written some other fanfiction on AO3 myself, but never felt brave enough to write anything like this. So this is my first try writing a Bucky Barnes X Reader fanfic and wrote something today on the spur of the moment and felt brave enough to post it. Depending on how I feel, I may post this on AO3 too. Apologies in advance for any errors!  Additionally, this is my own writing, and I do no consent to it being posted as original content by any other individuals other than myself.

Summary: Bucky gets a voicemail from you after two months of not seeing each other. 

Warnings/Tags: 18+ only, Minors DNI. Smut. With some plot. Friends with benefits. Dirty Talk. Mutual Masturbation. Phone sex (kinda). Voicemail. 

************************************************************************

It’s been two months. Two months of texts almost sent and a finger hovering over your name in his contacts. Two months without your voice, your smile…your touch..your kiss…your moans...and your body. Two months without you. The decision was mutual. You both decided it was for the best. But he couldn't stop thinking about you. He couldn’t stop thinking about how good it was when you both were together. No one made him feel as good as you did. No one knew their way around his body like you did. You knew exactly what made him feel good and how to get him off. You respected his limits and were always eager to try new things. You both have the philosophy of pleasing your lover as much as possible and at least three orgasms before the next round. At first, you both were amazing for each other. You both were each other's confidant and stress relief. You were each other's solace, both when life got hard or when you just needed to feel someone else's body on yours. And somewhere it just all fell apart and got too messy and too intense. He knows he shouldn’t be thinking about you. But he couldn’t stop. He couldn’t stop thinking about how good you feel. He couldn’t help but miss the sound you make when you cum and how sweet you tasted when his tongue was deep inside you.  He went through the motions, he went on missions, spent time with the team, went to his therapist, but the thought of you was constantly in the back of his head. The decision to not speak to each other after the break-up wasn’t agreed on or even said, it just happened. He longed to speak to you. God, he wanted to do so much more than just talk. He wanted to fuck you slow and deep just like you liked. Until you begged him to go faster and deeper making you scream out his name. But if he couldn’t have that, he at least wanted to at least just hear your voice. But at the same time, he didn’t even know what to say. So he just didn’t say anything, it was just easier. He thought you would do the same. Until he was proven wrong. 

That night he just got back to his apartment after a week-long mission. It was tedious and intense. As soon as he got home he just wanted to shower and sleep. And if sleep wouldn’t come, he just wanted to fucking lay down for more than 10 minutes. He pushes his still wet hair out of his face as he walks from the bathroom to the bed in comfortable sweatpants. He plops himself on the bed to lay down and sighs deeply with the urge to just roll over and shut his eyes. He decided to check his phone before he wrestles with his sleep and what he sees makes him sit straight up. 

It’s a voicemail. He must have had his phone on silent, he didn’t even hear it ring. Only a few people would call him at this time of the night, usually for a mission. But it wasn’t any of them, it was you. 

Maybe he shouldn’t listen to it. Maybe not hearing from each other if for the best. But all he could think about was hearing your voice. He couldn’t open the message fast enough and pressed play. 

“Hey, it's me.” your voice starts and his breath catches as he hears you.  

“I wanted to... I don't know, I just wanted to... I shouldn't even be calling you, should I? We hadn’t really said we should stop talking to each other. But it’s just… you know.” you stop to sigh and he sighs in agreement.

“But we did make an agreement to stop seeing each other. And I know we said it wasn't a good idea, but I just... I just can't stop thinking about you” you say softly and he feels his heart start to pound. You missed him too and it felt so good to hear you say it. He almost played that part over just to hear you say it again but he wanted to hear what else you had to say. 

“I just wanted to call you and hear your voice. I miss you. I really do. I miss... I miss talking to you. I miss... being around you. I... I miss your touch. I miss kissing you. God damn it, I miss fucking you. Um... I know that... us being... in the same room is difficult and I think that's why we are avoiding each other but I just….I don't want you to…I want you to be close to me because when you're close to me…fuck, so many things happen.” you breathe out, sounding lost in thought. And he breathes with you, his body starting to react to your words. The same tingle he gets in his body starts to make him heat up and he bites his lip.

“I… I... well... First of all, I get out of breath like how I feel out of breath now. Um, I, uh... My heart starts pumping fast. And, um... My body, it feels tingly. All over. And, um... And... And I start to get... So freaking... wet. Just your voice makes me so wet.” you slightly moan. 

“Fuck baby” he whispers in response and he can’t help but let out a small whimper. His cock grows hard at hearing how wet he makes you and the effect he has on you.

“And I... I don't want to let that go, honestly. The way you touch me and how you caress me. The way you know that I like it when you bite my ear. And you trail your tongue from my chest to my neck. Just the right spots to kiss and bite. And the way you kiss all over my body…. how you touch…the way you know how to touch my breasts…and pinch my nipples just right…and how you look into my eyes when you suck on them… fuck you know how wet that makes me.” you continue on in that same tone you use when his fingers are deep inside of you. He knows he shouldn’t, but he can’t help himself. He takes his free hand and starts to rub on his cock through his sweatpants. Hearing that sweet voice filled with need turns him on so much and it’s been so long without you. 

“And fuck… your hands…both of them are perfect…the way your fingers are so…justt so fucking good…. and the way you know to finger me, not too fast, not too slow, but just right…how you curl your fingers right up into my G spot…and rub my clit…makes me cum so hard on those fingers” you whimper. By now he picks up on the rustling and wet sounds along with your words. You are touching yourself while you talk and you aren’t trying to hide it. And by now, he fully has his cock out and can’t help but stroke himself right along with you, desperate to hear more. 

“And then the way that you... damn the way that you fuck me. You know just how to fuck me. Having you inside of me…it feels so fucking good. The way that you start slow, and you keep going…going so deep ... .it's amazing. Mmmm fuck so amazing, fuck baby.” you start to struggle with your words and the sounds of you rubbing and fingering yourself intensify. He fucking loves when you struggle with your words like that when you are feeling good. It spurs him to start to stroke himself faster.  

“Fuck princess, you sound so so fucking good” he moans out as he strokes and continues to listen.

“But then…when I say I need more…you just… fuck…you just pound right into me… so fucking fast and deep…you pound into me so good until I can’t feel my fucking legs… and you fill me up so good… and the way you rub my clit when you pound into my pussy…your moans when you are deep inside of me…and how you tell me what a good girl I am, and tell me how I feel so good, and tell me how close you are and how you want to feel me squeeze your cock as I am about to cum…and then you go even deeper…and fuckkkkkk….baby it makes me cum so fucking hard. I want that…fuck baby, fuck I want you baby I-” you suddenly stop talking cry out his name and as soon as he hears you cry out he cums. He cums hard all over his hand and throws his head back as he moans out your name. He hasn’t cum with you in so long and it feels so fucking good. He takes a moment to catch his breath as he listens to you do the same. 

“I…I miss that so much. I miss you so much. The way you take care of me after….how you lay me on your chest and kiss me gently and... hold me in your arms. I miss that. I…want it back. I know it's a lot and I know that we shouldn't… but fuck… I don't think I can do without it. I miss that. I miss you.” you whisper to him and the message ends. 

He sits and stares at his phone as his body reacts. Reacts to the desire and desperation he hears in your voice. Your need for him. You need him. You want him. And fuck, he wanted you. Before he could realize what he was doing, he was cleaning himself up, putting on a fresh shirt, jeans, and a leather jacket with his black boots. He grabbed his keys, locked up, and was out the door. You wanted him. You needed him. And he wouldn’t keep you waiting a minute longer.  

[gay-dorito-dust]

I have something for Johnny if you want.

Johnny x shy!reader that has scarlet witch powers? Being Johnny girlfriend and Johnny family adores shy!reader

‘I’m starting to think my family likes you more then me at this point.’ Johnny says one day as he face planted your shared bed.

‘How so Johnny?’ You asked sweetly as you waved your hand as you brought a blanket over your boyfriend’s body with your magic, never failing to notice the soft smile that grew across his face as he lifts himself from the pillow to face you.

‘Are you kidding me? I mean look at you!’ He exclaims as he gestures to all of you shamelessly, making you feel a little exposed by his beautiful brown doe eyes that never seemed to fail in making you melt. ‘You’re sweet, compassionate, adorable to an unfair extent it makes me question how a being as beautiful as you could exist, and did I forget to mention that you’re an absolute badass with your powers?’ Johnny adds with a smirk as he saw how easily affected you were by his words as he counts off everything he found to adore you for on his fingers.

You groan playfully as you smacked Johnny on his bicep, a sheepish smile began to spread across your lips, all the while attempting to fight back the butterflies that were making their presence known within your stomach. It didn’t matter if you were dating Johnny for a few weeks or a few months, for he would always find ways to make you feel as though no time has passed between the two of you.

You at first didn’t want anything to do with the cocky, overly confident, playboy known as Johnny Storm and stayed away from him for a good while…until you couldn’t and it lead to what you considered the best decision you ever made in agreeing to let him take you on a date. However recently Johnny’s sister Sue, her husband Reed and Ben had been taking note of the subtle changes within johnny and knew someone was the reason behind it, which had lead to Johnny dragging you to the Baxter building more times then you can count to meet his family; whom of which had grown a fondness towards you and your positive influence on Johnny himself.

‘Johnny…’ you drew out his name as you buried your head into his shoulder, holding him close as you selfishly leeched off of his warmth, not that you’d ever tell him this but you were certain with how eager he was to keep you in his arms chuckling. He was very much aware and was more than willing to indulge you as he was just as much addicted to your soft, comforting hugs that he swore to high heavens he would die without.

‘I’m not lying! You should hear them half of the time! Where’s y/n? Johnny, go get your better looking partner. Johnny, where is my future sibling in law, you can’t hog them all the time.’ Johnny replied as he made dramatic voices for the likes of Sue, Ben and Reed based on the most recent interactions with them, most of which were asking for you or wondering how you were in general. Johnny didn’t mind, if anything he was downright ecstatic knowing that his family were just as obsessed with you as he was, he adored how you and his sister got along the most; knowing straight away from the moment he found you and his family sharing stories in the kitchen that this was something he wanted to see more often in the future.

Commitment wasn’t his thing, it never was until he met you, and as cliche as that sounded -and he knew just how cliche it came across- but it was true and Johnny wouldn’t want it any other way. He’d even claim you had put some type of spell on him, to which you only hide your smile from his groan inducing joke in regard to your magical abilities. He even remembered the day that he realised that you were the type of person he wanted to bring to his family, something he never gave a deeper insight into before you mind you as he never felt that deep of connection.

So everyday when he wakes up to see you cuddled into his side peacefully and safely, he considered himself the most luckiest man alive, and he didn’t bother to hide it either as he bragged to anyone with ears that someone as wonderful as you had chosen a hotheaded stud muffin -his words- like him.

You smiled as you cuddled further into him, knowing firsthand that he was right, and you were still getting use to the idea that his family adored you from the moment Johnny brought you to your first of many Sunday family diners. You remembered sweating bullets and tugging at your formal attire, but Sue and Reed were more than welcoming and reassuring, meanwhile Ben was full on teasing Johnny about how he was growing into a true man.

However before you could respond you were quick to remember that you were very much late for your day out with Sue. You gasp upon realisation as you push Johnny away from you, who fell back into the bed, staring up at the ceiling in disbelief that you had just pushed him away. ‘I’m late!’ You cried as you moved away from your baffled boyfriend, who had propped himself to his arms.

‘Late for what?’ Johnny asks as he watched you sort yourself out for an outing he wasn’t aware was taking place.

You smiled softly, not wanting to give too much away of what you and Sue had planned prior. ‘Sue wanted help to find something for Reed for Valentine’s Day, and I agreed to help her.’ You half lied, well you weren’t lying about helping his sister find something for Reed, but what you had left out was the fact that you were also using this time to find something for Johnny yourself. To you he deserved something for being such an amazing partner, and you were thankful that Sue was more than happy to help you in doing so during your most recent late night conversations with the blonde woman.

‘I just want to find something for him that he’ll love,’ you told Sue as you allowed your magic to flourish between your fingertips, a nervous habit you had developed the moment you realised that you were capable of feet’s no other magic user has ever accomplished before, it was a comfort to you and brought your mind back to what was most important to you and what was most important to you was Johnny smiling.

She smiles, glad to know that her brother was blessed with someone like you, reached out to grab your hand in hers as she squeezed it in reassurance. ‘Whatever you get him, I’m certain Johnny will treasure forever.’

‘Really? You really think so?’ You asked her, still a little nervous despite having been with Johnny for a while, but that man had a way to make you feel as though you were falling for him all over again and you wanted to hate him for it, and yet you found yourself becoming shy and flustered whenever the man even threw his arm over your shoulder. If this was what love was like then you hoped to stay in this never ending state of adoration and mutual understanding for as long as you could.

‘I know so.’ Sue replied, her eyes had a knowing look to them. ‘Johnny would take anything you give him becuase you were the one that give it to him, that thought that he would like it and all he’ll care about is that you had him on the mind and to show that you care about him.’ She finished, squeezing your hand again when she saw sparks of your magic come to life at your fingertips, rubbing her thumb across the back of your hand. You smiled at her. ‘Then I can’t wait for tomorrow.’ You tell her, beaming.

Johnny smiled from his place on the bed, again happy to see you and his sister bond and become close to one another, it was a simple thing that he didn’t know he needed but then again that was the magical thing about you. You made him want simple and small things that he would’ve taken for granted, or not even considered in the first place, and for that he couldn’t help but find himself wanting moments like this in your future together.

However before Johnny could open his mouth to push you for more details on your outing with his sister, the door opened to reveal Sue stood on the other side, obviously having been waiting for you but not showing an ounce of annoyance in the slightest.

‘I’m here to steal your partner.’ Sue says to her brother as she grasps your arm, pulling you to her side.

‘Not the first time my beloved is being stolen from me by you, Reed or Ben.’ Johnny scoffs playfully as he watched you and Sue link arms, already acting like you were in laws for a long time with how relaxed and comfortable you were with one another.

‘Oh you can have them back as soon as we’re finished shopping.’ Sue retorted.

‘So like ten hours from now?’ Johnny sarcastically replies with and you couldn’t help but laugh at the sibling squabble, making him look at you with a warm smile. ‘Don’t I get a goodbye kiss at least from my most beloved?’ Before you could give him his kiss, Sue drags you out of the room with her and out the door, though not before shouting over her shoulder followed by your laughter. ‘You’ve had enough time today to trade kisses, now you have to wait.’

Johnny only groans dramatically as he flops back onto his bed, impatiently waiting for you to come back not even seconds after you left his room, he really was in love like the sappy bastard Ben teased him in being.

[bunji-enthusiast]

(𝐃𝐞𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐲) 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐡 𝐈𝐭

Characters [Kissy Missy, Huggy Wuggy, Doey The Doughman]

Note || request: idk if you're taking requests but can you possibly do small fic of kissy, huggy, and doey getting affection for the first time by y/n / the player? Platonic head kisses, hugs, that sort of thing.

Why, yes my good fellow fan. I actually loved this, omfg.

— Doey The Doughman

As an ex-employee of Playtime Co., you couldn’t shake the weight of your past. The haunting memories of the factory lingered in the back of your mind, yet there was something much deeper pressing at your heart. You had seen so much suffering over the years, and now, among the few survivors in this grim new world, you couldn't help but notice the vulnerable ones. Doey, especially.

The plump dough creature had been a beacon of hope for so many, but behind that friendly, playful demeanor, you recognized a burden. He held his group together, sacrificed his time, energy, and emotional well-being for those under his care in The Safe Haven. Even when it wasn’t necessary, he put on a brave face, especially with the overwhelming responsibility of leadership. You could see it in his eyes, that exhaustion. You suspected that he had once been a child under that appearance, his innocence hidden beneath layers of experience far beyond what a creature like him should bear.

For someone like Doey, affection was something foreign, something he rarely got, especially in such a harsh environment. Leadership had made him strong, but at the cost of his own peace. That was something only an empathetic soul like you could truly understand. You knew, deep down, that he needed care and compassion as much as anyone else. And though it was strictly platonic, affection might be the very thing that could allow him to heal — to feel like something more than the leader of a group of survivors.

One evening, after a long day of coordinating plans, you approached Doey in the quiet of the Safe Haven. He was sitting on a makeshift bench near the fire, his long, colorful arms resting at his sides, and his eyes fixed on the dim glow. His yellow, orange, and red dough belly pattern of three bendy arms seemed to ripple with the firelight.

You could see that he was tired, maybe even a little lonely, his mouth set in a soft frown. Without thinking, you moved closer, and a gentle but firm hand rested on his shoulder. He blinked, startled at first, before his eyes softened.

"Doey," you began softly, your voice uncharacteristically tender. "You’ve done so much for everyone. But you’ve been carrying this weight alone for too long."

He didn’t respond immediately, his hollow eyes looking at you through the holes in his doughy face. But there was a subtle shift, a small recognition that the burden he carried wasn’t unnoticed. You could feel the tension in him as if he was silently giving himself permission to let down his guard, just for a moment.

You kneeled beside him, reaching up to gently pat his head, careful not to be too forceful. The blue clay of his doughy scalp was soft, cool to the touch. He blinked again, this time with a hint of surprise, but you continued, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of his head, a silent promise of care. The warmth you felt in the moment was something you hadn’t realized you needed, and perhaps, neither had he.

As you leaned back, Doey’s long orange arm slowly lifted, hesitating before it rested on your shoulder in return. You could tell he was processing the moment, unsure of how to respond, but you knew it wasn’t the kind of affection he was used to. He was a leader, after all — strong, unyielding, and often alone in his role.

But here, in the dimly lit corner of The Safe Haven, there was a quiet kind of peace. You could see the tension in his body gradually melt away. He needed this. He deserved this. After all, even the strongest of leaders were human, even if their form was a strange, colorful dough creature.

"Thank you," you murmured. "You don't have to carry it all on your own, Doey. We're all in this together."

For a moment, Doey said nothing, but the subtle shift in his expression spoke volumes. His holes, the makeshift eyes, softened as if a weight had lifted. And then, in a rare and tender gesture, he leaned toward you, wrapping his long yellow arm around your shoulder in a gentle embrace.

The warmth of his body, though made of dough, felt oddly reassuring. The hug wasn't tight or demanding, but it was everything he needed — a small, quiet moment of affection and support. It wasn’t about leadership, or strength, or the mission. It was simply about being there for each other.

You could feel his breath — or perhaps it was the absence of it — as he pulled away just slightly, his eyes meeting yours. "You're right," he finally said in his soft, humble voice. "I... I haven't been good at asking for help."

You smiled, giving him a reassuring pat on the back. “You don’t have to ask. Sometimes, it’s okay to just let others help you."

As the fire crackled in the background, you stayed close by Doey’s side, offering him the rarest of gifts — a moment of respite, of care. Just for tonight, he didn’t need to be a leader, a beacon of hope, or the one who carried the weight of so many. He could simply be Doey — the dough creature who deserved love, affection, and the safety of knowing someone had his back.

And for you, it was a reminder that even in the darkest of places, sometimes the best thing we can offer one another is warmth, care, and affection — the simple things that make us human, or in Doey’s case, something more than just an animated being. Something deserving of a gentle hug and a soft kiss on the head.

— Huggy Wuggy

It had been a long time since you had last seen Huggy Wuggy. The factory, now eerie and abandoned, had its haunting air, but there was something... different about it now. The silence that permeated the air had always felt oppressive, but as you ventured deeper, a strange sense of sadness washed over you.

The towering blue creature loomed before you in the dimly lit corridor. Huggy Wuggy stood there, as if waiting. His large black eyes stared at you, reflecting the remnants of something broken, something lost. His tall, slender frame seemed so out of place in the sterile halls of the factory, but it wasn’t his presence that made you pause—it was the unmistakable loneliness that seemed to emanate from him.

The thought had crossed your mind many times, especially after the encounters you had witnessed between him and others in this factory. Huggy Wuggy had been part of a long-lost project, a toy designed to spread love and affection, but something had gone horribly wrong. The violence he once displayed, the frenzy he brought upon anyone unlucky enough to cross his path, wasn’t his doing. It was the Prototype, manipulating him, turning his purpose of affection into something much darker.

You had made a decision—one that surprised even yourself.

The truce, strange as it was, had to mean something. The creature before you had been twisted by forces far beyond his control, but there was still a trace of the original Huggy inside. You didn’t want him to be just another victim of whatever twisted fate had led him down this path.

“Hey, Huggy,” you spoke softly, your voice breaking the quiet tension of the room. Huggy’s head tilted slightly, as if trying to understand what you were doing here.

You took a cautious step forward, your heart racing slightly. You had no idea how he would react. He had been hostile before—ferocious, even. But this time felt different. There was a hesitation in his movements, a kind of vulnerability that hadn’t been there before. Perhaps, after everything that had transpired, Huggy had found the small, flickering ember of his former self.

You slowly raised your hand, offering him an open gesture—an invitation. Huggy’s large yellow hands twitched, the velcro straps on his palms shifting as he examined your hand cautiously. His face, though monstrous and alien, held a certain curiosity now, as if unsure whether to accept or reject the kindness you were offering.

Gently, you stepped closer, placing your hand on his outstretched arm. It felt surprisingly warm, almost organic. Huggy froze, and you could feel his body tense as if ready to pull away. But you didn’t back down.

In a move that could have been considered a gesture of trust, you leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on the top of his head. It was a simple act—one that might have seemed odd to anyone else, but it was something that felt right in that moment. Huggy, the once terrifying creature, stood still, unsure of how to process the affection.

After a long pause, something shifted within him. He let out a low hum, almost as if responding to the touch. His large black eyes blinked slowly, as if digesting the sensation, and for a brief second, it felt as if time had stopped. The hostility that had once radiated from him seemed to fade, replaced by something almost... grateful.

You pulled back slightly, watching as Huggy lowered his head, almost as if in acknowledgment. It wasn’t much—just a small sign that the creature, so often feared and misunderstood, had been longing for the kind of kindness he had been created to offer.

Huggy’s response wasn’t immediate, but it wasn’t hostile either. Instead, he took a step closer, his large frame towering over you. He didn’t try to grab you or threaten you. He simply knelt down, lowering himself to your level. And then, with a gentle motion that seemed so foreign to his nature, he wrapped his long arms around you in a hug. It was awkward, almost clumsy, as if he wasn’t entirely sure how to hold you without causing harm. But it was there—a gentle, almost tender embrace.

You held on for a moment, a quiet smile creeping onto your face. This—this was what Huggy had been meant for. Not to be a monster, but to offer comfort, to be the source of warmth and affection he had been designed to be before everything had gone wrong.

It felt like a small victory. The kind of victory that didn’t come from defeating an enemy, but from giving someone, or something, the chance to be seen as more than what they had become.

Huggy’s large head nuzzled gently against your shoulder. Despite everything that had happened in this twisted factory, in this place of nightmares, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of peace.

“Thank you, Huggy,” you whispered, more to yourself than to him. “You didn’t deserve any of this.”

For a brief moment, the factory seemed less ominous, less dangerous. Huggy, the creature who had once been a source of terror, now simply wanted to be understood. And for once, in this forsaken place, you understood him.

You stepped back from the hug, your hands resting on his shoulders as you gave him a reassuring smile. It wasn’t much, but it was something. Maybe, just maybe, Huggy Wuggy could find his way back to the love he was once meant to give.

As you turned to leave, you glanced back one last time at the towering blue creature, now seemingly at peace, standing alone in the quiet, broken factory. The path ahead of you was uncertain, but for the first time in what felt like forever, you knew there was a chance for redemption—even for Huggy Wuggy.

And in the end, that was all that mattered.

— Kissy Missy

The factory loomed around you like an old, haunted memory, every creak and groan a whisper of its long, forgotten past. The shadows seemed to stretch for miles, the dim flicker of lights casting eerie silhouettes against the walls. But amidst this endless labyrinth, there was something — or rather, someone — you couldn’t shake from your mind.

Kissy Missy.

When you first encountered her, she had been a tragic figure, caught in the aftermath of violence and destruction. She had once been part of something grand, a cheerful toy meant to bring joy. Yet, years of abandonment, trauma, and violence had altered her. Despite her kindness, there was a depth of sadness within her. She had seen horrors that no one should have to bear, and now, she wandered the empty halls, looking for solace in the rubble.

You had grown fond of her over time, not just as a comrade in this strange and dangerous world but as a friend. And you knew, perhaps more than anyone, that even the toughest souls needed affection sometimes.

That night, as you walked through the cold, empty corridors of the factory, your thoughts turned back to her. Kissy Missy was injured. You could see the physical toll the factory had taken on her, the scars on her body from an unknown attacker, and the burns marking her face. But there was something else, something you could sense. Her spirit, too, had been wounded, battered by years of loneliness and violence.

You stopped in front of her quarters, the heavy door creaking as you pushed it open. She was there, slumped against the far wall, her large, dark eyes tired but still holding a glimmer of something — something hopeful, something good.

She didn’t notice you at first, her gaze distant. But you didn’t need to say anything. She’d always understood. Slowly, you moved toward her, kneeling down to her level. For a moment, you simply gazed at her, taking in her delicate features and the softness that still remained beneath the layers of pain and exhaustion.

“Kissy…” you said gently, your voice carrying the weight of unsaid things. She turned toward you slowly, her gaze meeting yours with a quiet recognition. She didn’t smile, but there was a flicker of relief in her eyes — she had been waiting, perhaps without even knowing it, for this moment.

Without thinking, you reached out, your hand softly resting on her shoulder. The warmth of your touch was met with a long, almost imperceptible sigh from her. It was as though she had been holding her breath for too long, and finally, someone had come to release her from the tension of it all.

You didn’t speak, not just yet. Instead, you simply gave her a gentle squeeze, a comforting touch that she had long since forgotten. Her eyelids fluttered, and she leaned into it, just slightly, her head dipping to rest against your hand.

The gesture was so simple, yet in it was everything. It was the kindness she hadn’t known in years, the warmth she had been starved of, the affection she so desperately needed but never dared to ask for.

Without a word, you stood up and moved behind her, pressing your palm against the back of her head, urging her forward into a soft embrace. You could feel the tension in her body, the slight tremble as she tried to stay strong, but she gave in. She allowed herself to be held for a moment, to be taken out of the nightmare of the factory, even if just for a brief while.

It was quiet — just the two of you in that forgotten place. You could hear the faint hum of the factory’s systems, the distant echoes of machinery, but none of that mattered. What mattered was that, for once, Kissy Missy wasn’t alone.

As you stood there, holding her, your mind wandered to all the things she had gone through. The years of isolation. The horror of the massacre. The unrelenting loneliness. It was no wonder she had become the way she was — strong, silent, fierce in her resolve. But beneath all of that, there was a heart that longed for connection, for love, for someone to show her that she still mattered.

You kissed the top of her head gently, a small gesture of affection, your lips brushing the soft, pink fur of her hair. It wasn’t romantic; it was something deeper, something more human. It was a promise — a promise that she wasn’t forgotten, that she wasn’t some abandoned, discarded thing left to rot in the depths of the factory.

The slight weight of her head against your chest was a silent confirmation that she understood. You weren’t going to leave her alone in this place. You wouldn’t let her carry the burden of her past by herself.

For a long while, you stayed like that. The world outside seemed distant, and all that mattered in that moment was the fragile creature in your arms. You could feel the subtle rise and fall of her chest as she took a deep, steadying breath, and you knew, for just a fleeting moment, she felt safe.

When you finally pulled back, you didn’t leave her side. Instead, you sat beside her, your shoulder against hers, offering your presence as a reminder that she wasn’t forgotten. She looked at you, and for the first time in what seemed like forever, there was something resembling peace in her eyes.

In the quiet of that factory, you promised yourself that no matter what horrors lay ahead, Kissy Missy would never face them alone. And that, for all the trauma she had endured, she could still find a little bit of warmth, a little bit of comfort in this broken world.

You didn’t have to say it aloud. She knew. And for now, that was enough.

[f1daydreamer]

Shattered Reflections – Part 1

Pairing: George Russell x Reader

Warnings: Heavy angst, heartbreak, (I am not good at warnings 😅)

Summary: The love you thought was unbreakable now feels like glass—cracking under the weight of unspoken words and hidden truths. You see the shift in George, the distance in his touch, the silence that lingers where laughter used to be. And when the truth comes out, it cuts deeper than you ever imagined.

---

The hotel room was suffocating, the air thick with something unspoken, something bitter and painful. The city lights cast long shadows against the walls, flickering like ghosts of memories you weren’t ready to let go of. You sat on the edge of the bed, your hands clutching the hem of your sweater, fingers digging into the fabric as if grounding yourself in something—anything—before you lost control.

George stood near the window, his back to you, hands shoved into his pockets. He hadn’t looked at you properly in days, maybe weeks. You used to be his home, the person he always turned to, the one he sought comfort in. Now? You felt like a stranger in your own relationship, a ghost haunting a love that had already died without you realizing it.

"Are you going to say something, or are we just going to sit here pretending everything’s fine?" Your voice broke on the last word, your throat tight, raw from the unshed tears burning behind your eyes.

George inhaled sharply, his shoulders tensing. "I don’t want to fight."

You let out a hollow laugh, shaking your head. "Oh, now you don’t want to fight? That’s funny, because for weeks, you’ve been acting like I don’t even exist, George. You come home late, you barely talk to me, and when you do, it’s like you’re not even here."

His head dipped slightly, as if he hated hearing the truth out loud. "It’s just—things have been stressful. The season, the pressure, everything. I didn’t mean to shut you out."

"Bullshit," you spat, standing up so fast that the mattress shifted beneath you. "I was there for you when things were stressful, George. I have always been there. So don’t you dare use that as an excuse for why you’re pulling away from me."

He finally turned to face you, and the look in his eyes sent a cold shiver through you. Regret. Guilt. But worst of all—resignation. Like he had already made up his mind.

"You deserve better than this," he said softly, almost too soft, like he didn’t want the words to hurt as much as they did.

Your stomach dropped. A deep, aching kind of dread settled in your bones. "What the hell does that mean?"

George ran a hand through his hair, exhaling shakily. "It means I don’t think this is working anymore."

Silence. Deafening. Crushing.

Your breath hitched as his words sank in, slicing through your chest like a knife. You felt your hands tremble, your vision blur with tears, but you refused to let them fall. Not yet.

"You’re breaking up with me," you whispered, barely able to get the words out.

George swallowed, his jaw tightening. "I don’t want to hurt you."

A bitter laugh bubbled from your throat, sharp and jagged. "Too late for that."

Your hands curled into fists, your nails digging into your palms as the pain—God, the pain—became unbearable. "Why now? Why are you doing this? Just tell me the fucking truth, George."

He hesitated, and that hesitation was all you needed to know.

"There’s someone else, isn’t there?"

His silence was your answer.

It felt like the ground beneath you gave way, like the air had been sucked from your lungs. The tears came then, hot and fast, blurring everything until all you could see was his face—his guilty, tortured face. The same face you had loved so fiercely, so wholly, and now it was the face of the person breaking you into pieces.

"Who is she?" your voice cracked, but you needed to know. Needed to hear it.

"Y/N—"

"Who the fuck is she, George?" you screamed, your voice shattering between you like glass.

He closed his eyes, exhaling like he was carrying the weight of the world. "It’s not like that. I didn’t mean for this to happen."

"You didn’t mean for it to happen?" A sob tore through you, your chest heaving. "Do you hear yourself? Do you even realize what you’ve done?"

George stepped forward, reaching for you, but you flinched back, your entire body recoiling from his touch. "Don’t. Don’t you dare touch me."

He looked broken, but you didn’t care. He didn’t get to be broken. Not when he was the one who did this.

"You were my everything," you choked out. "And you just threw it all away like it was nothing."

Tears streamed down your face, but you didn’t wipe them away. Let him see the damage. Let him see exactly what he had done.

George took a deep breath, his own eyes glassy, but his expression was firm. "I’m sorry."

You let out a shaky, humorless laugh. "No, you’re not. If you were sorry, you wouldn’t have done this in the first place."

And with that, you turned away, because if you looked at him for even a second longer, you would break beyond repair.

But the truth was, you already had.

---

To be continued…

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A Note from Me to You:

I wanted to take a moment to share something personal with you all. A close friend of mine recently went through a heartbreaking experience, and it’s been weighing on me. She was in a relationship for four years, a relationship she thought was built on trust and love. Unfortunately, she found out that her boyfriend had been cheating on her, and the truth cut deeper than anything she could have imagined.

What makes this situation even more complicated is that the other girl involved had no idea he was in a relationship either. It's painful to see two people hurt by someone’s betrayal—two people who never deserved any of this. It's a situation filled with hurt, confusion, and regret, and it’s been hard to watch my friend go through such an emotional storm.

To anyone who has been through something similar, know this: You are not alone. Betrayal leaves scars, but it also brings the strength to rise again, even when it feels impossible. The pain is real, and it’s valid, but you don’t have to go through it alone.

I’m sharing this not to draw attention to the hurt, but to remind us all of the importance of love, honesty, and the value of knowing our worth. If you’ve been through something like this, take time for yourself, lean on those who care for you, and always remember that your value is never determined by someone else’s actions.

This is for my friend and for anyone who’s had their trust broken. You will heal, and brighter days are ahead.

[moonmaiden1996]

The interview

Could you imagine Rupert giving an interview and the interviewer gets stuck on the subject of how Rupert romanced and married his own personal Goddess. I sort of feel like this could be a little series. What do you think?

The laughter died down as the interviewer leaned forward, adjusting his notecards with deliberate care. The transition was subtle, but the shift in tone was palpable. The studio lights above cast a soft, golden glow, bathing the set in a comforting warmth, while the audience, now quieter, leaned forward in anticipation. The mood had gone from the easy, playful banter of the earlier portion of the interview to something a little more serious, a little more probing. It was a subtle change, but one that both Rupert and the audience could feel.

"Now, let’s get into something a little more serious," the interviewer said, his tone shifting as he folded the notecards carefully in his hands. "You’re widely regarded as the best Minister of Sport this country has ever seen, so why did you never go for Prime Minister? You must have been tempted, right? I mean, it seems like it would be the logical next step for someone with your… profile."

Rupert Campbell-Black gave a slow, almost lazy smile. He leaned back into his chair, exuding the kind of effortless confidence that had made him a household name—not just in politics, but in sports, in business, and in the social circles that buzzed around them all. His dark eyes gleamed with an almost mischievous amusement as he considered the question, his fingers tapping idly on the armrest of the chair. His posture was perfect, his presence commanding yet relaxed.

"No," he said, drawing the word out slowly. "Not really. You see, sport was always my dream. It was the job I was born to do. I was damn good at it, and I loved every minute of it. Running the Ministry of Sport, overseeing the nation’s athletic legacy—it was everything I ever wanted." He paused, letting his words hang in the air. "And, now that it’s coming to an end, I’m content. I get to focus more on running Venturer, my business, and more importantly... my family."

There was a softness in his voice as he spoke of his family, a hint of something deeper that caught the interviewer off guard. The audience, too, seemed to react to it—a quiet murmur running through the crowd.

The interviewer arched an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "See, that surprises me. You’ve built quite a legacy in sport, Rupert. But I thought that politics—especially the role of Prime Minister—would have been an inevitable next step for someone like you. But it seems that... family has become your focus now? I mean, you know what they say. There have been quite a few rumors about your marriage. Some say it wasn’t entirely... conventional."

Rupert chuckled, the sound deep and rich. It was the same laugh he used when he found something particularly amusing, the kind that made you feel like you were in on the joke. The laughter seemed to hang in the air for a moment longer than usual before he responded, tapping his fingers on the chair’s armrest with a casual precision.

"Ah yes," he said, with mock sincerity. "The endless speculation. It’s always good for a laugh, isn't it? People seem to think they know everything about my life, but of course, they don’t. They never do."

The interviewer leaned in slightly, sensing an opening. "Many of your critics saw your marriage as a strategic move—a way to clean up your image. Your past… well, it’s been colorful, to say the least. Before you married your current wife, there were plenty of rumors, plenty of… indiscretions. Some would say your reputation was, how shall I put this, somewhat tarnished."

Rupert gave another laugh, this time with a hint of self-deprecation. "Tarnished? That’s putting it lightly, don’t you think? I’ve never been one to shy away from my mistakes. I was a cad, a true villain of the tabloids. But who I was... isn’t who I am now. People can judge me all they want, but I know who I am, and I’m at peace with that."

The interviewer sat back slightly, taken aback by Rupert’s frankness. But he wasn’t done.

"Then what changed, Rupert? How did the nation's most notorious playboy end up married to the woman who seems to have... tamed you?" he asked, his curiosity getting the best of him.

Rupert’s smile softened, just for a moment. It wasn’t the cocky, world-weary grin that the audience had come to associate with him. This one was different—genuine, almost tender, as his dark eyes flickered with something more personal.

"I fell in love," he said quietly, his voice taking on a reverent tone. "And when I say love, I mean real, honest-to-God love. It hit me like a freight train. I didn’t expect it. Hell, I didn’t even see it coming. I was blind-sided." He paused, his gaze drifting momentarily, as though caught in the memory of a moment long past. The audience was silent now, completely riveted.

The interviewer, too, seemed caught by the sincerity in Rupert’s voice. "As simple as that? You fell in love just like that? The man who was feared and adored, suddenly, completely devoted to one woman?"

Rupert smiled again, but this time it was more wistful, as though he were holding something precious just beneath the surface of his usual bravado. "It’s never that simple, is it? But yes, in a way, it was. It was just one of those things, you know? When it happens, you realize it. She was everything. She still is."

The audience reacted almost audibly, some of them exchanging quiet whispers among themselves. The interviewer was clearly fascinated, his next question practically spilling out. "How did it happen, Rupert? How did the great Rupert Campbell-Black, the man who is Thatcher notorious dog, find himself so... hopelessly devoted to one woman?"

Rupert chuckled softly, the sound almost bittersweet. "It wasn’t easy," he said, his eyes twinkling as he remembered the first time he truly saw her. "I had seen her flittering around, but I’d never really seen her. Not like that. It was in a garden, Charles Fairburn’s garden, to be specific. I didn’t think anyone saw me, but I was there, and she was there to help dear Charles, looking so perfect, so unassuming. Caring. Gentle. She was like a vision, and that was it for me. I was done."

He shook his head, a slight, almost imperceptible smile playing at the corner of his lips. "It took me a while to get it right. But once I saw her for who she really was, I knew I had to win her over. And, trust me, she didn’t make it easy."

The interviewer’s eyebrows shot up in disbelief. "You? Rupert Campbell-Black? You, the man who never had to work for anything, actually had to—what?—earn her affections?"

Rupert smirked, the slightest hint of pride in his voice. "You’d be surprised what love makes a man do. She had high standards. And I had to prove I could live up to them. I had to work for her trust. Work for her love. It wasn’t just about charm anymore. I had to show her who I could be, not just who I was."

The interviewer leaned forward, clearly intrigued by this side of Rupert Campbell-Black that no one had really seen before. "So what did you do? How did you finally win her over?"

Rupert sighed, running a hand through his perfectly styled hair, an uncharacteristic flicker of vulnerability crossing his features for a brief second. "I begged," he admitted, his voice laced with a hint of amusement, but also sincerity. "I got down on my knees, and I begged her. I asked her to forgive me for being the man I had been and to let me prove I could be the man she deserved."

The audience gasped, some audibly laughing at the thought of Rupert Campbell-Black—so self-assured, so larger-than-life—getting down on his knees. Even the interviewer seemed stunned for a moment.

"You begged?" the interviewer asked incredulously.

Rupert just shrugged, his trademark grin returning in full force. "What can I say? She had standards. And, thankfully, she was merciful."

The laughter that followed was warm, genuine, and filled the studio. The audience was utterly charmed by the idea of this notorious playboy admitting to something so rare for a man like him—humility.

"Well, clearly, it worked," the interviewer said, smiling as he glanced at Rupert. "But what made her finally say yes?"

Rupert leaned forward again, his face taking on that signature confident glint. "It wasn’t about me changing. It was about me finding something worth fighting for, something worth being better for. And trust me, there’s only one person in this world who can tame me. And I’m more than happy to let her."

The audience erupted in applause, their approval ringing loud and clear. The interviewer shook his head with a chuckle, clearly amused. "Rupert Campbell-Black, you never fail to entertain."

Rupert winked, his usual mischievous charm back in full force. "I do my best."

The interviewer smiled, leaning in for the final words. "Well, there you have it, folks. The one, the only, Rupert Campbell-Black—politician, businessman, sports mogul... and the man who met his match in love. Stay tuned for more about Rupert Campbell-Black’s mysterious goddess."

The audience cheered again, their applause echoing in the studio as the lights began to dim

Please let me know what you think!!!!

Like. Comment. Request- Especially for Rupert!

[kero-cure]

I think I can feel deeper context from this words in Chou Eiyuusai 2025

I have something more to talk from this appreciate baton relay session.

"CHASSHIRO! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS 1 YEAR!"

"BECAUSE YOU'RE BLUE, I'M ABLE TO LET YOU WATCH MY BACK WITH AT EASE!!"

Yeah, The word "背中を預ける" (counting on someone, let someone watching our back. This word show how much someone have a trust on another.) that we heard in EP 43. That was impressive. But somehow I think this words actually came from Haruhi as an appreciation towards Yuki more than as their characters.

Haruhi isn't good at MC. He always fear of mess it up and lack of confidence. And in the time like that the one who will help him first is Yuki who's usually be next to him. Like reassuring, confidence boosting or giving a guideline about how to talk. And because their sense of distance are weird, The reassuring usually come with body touching. But sometimes I think that they were too close or too touchy I don't know why lol

From a short livesteam before Eiyuusai. Haruhi had to talk before the end of stream but he couldn't talk yet so he asked Yuu to talk first and he will talk when he ready. So... Reassuring time for Kansai boys.

This one video from movie event in late July 2024. Truly "A little bird told me" lol

"He seems like he's gonna stop so..." "Yeah, I looked for help."

Another recent moment is. According to JP communities who went to Eiyuusai, Haruhi seemed like he almost cried at the end of event. (His voice was trembled a little if you listen carefully) This moment we didn't see in livestream. But the audiences said that even though that time all cast have to keep their character, Yuki stop acting cool as Ishiro for a bit while to comforted/praised Haruhi. That's wholesome.

Because they're so precious like this, It make me think about maybe this appreciation comment was actually said as Haruhi toward Yuki instead of as Taiya toward Ishiro. Because as a newbie who start his first step in entertainment industry, Having such a kind senpai who's always taking care of him will make him feel at ease for sure.

Well, This post is just me thinking "BBG Kansai pair is sooooo precious" lol