#included the poster scan too!!!

[blowflyfag]

WWF RAW MAGAZINE: OCTOBER 1998

[hauntsoul]

— Beneath the Spotlight.

SYNOPSIS: You, a devoted fan, are thrilled when Park Sunghoon, a famous idol, slips a secret note into your pocket at his fan meeting. But as the days pass, you start to wonder if his fleeting attention was ever meant to last.

GENRE: 18+ (minors dni), toxic, angst, little fluff.

WORD COUNT: 7.1k

PAIRING: idol!sunghoon x obsessedfan!reader (sunghoon is pretty toxic)

WARNING: toxic dynamic, oral (f. receiving), fingering, overstimulation, no protection, bathing together, phone sex?, masturbation (f), choking, creampie, reader has no self respect. halfway through is not proofread.

AUTHORS NOTE: hello! this is my first ever post so i hope you all will enjoy it. this is actually based off a manga i read a while ago, so full inspiration from there. i hope you all love the story. <3

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

Park Sunghoon.

A name that tastes like honey on your tongue.

A name that echoes in your mind, sending you through spirals.

A name you’ve engraved into your heart.

His face dominates your world. His posters cover every inch of your walls, his piercing gaze watching you wherever you go. Your lockscreen? A candid shot from his last concert, sweat dripping down his jawline, his expression so intimidating it feels intimate. His voice? It fills every moment of silence, every song on your playlist filled with his songs, his melodic tone.

You’re obsessed. Not the dangerous kind, not yet, but close enough to feel the lines blur. You know him better than you know yourself, or so you tell yourself. For three years, you’ve followed his journey. From him starting his path on the ice rink, his movements elegant, to the idol on many global stages, with millions of fans following him. Including you of course.

Currently, he stands in front of you. Well, in front of thousands. The stage lights catch every angle of his sharp features, making him appear almost otherworldly. The microphone amplifies his voice: smooth, melodic, and commanding, as he speaks to the audience.

You’ve been to countless fan meetings before, how could you ever miss one? But no matter how many times you see him, the sight of Park Sunghoon always leaves you fascinated.

He smiles as he talks about the little things, the cheery moments he shared with his family during his break. The crowd laughs, cheers, and some even shout desperate attempts to catch his attention. And he rewards them with a polite smile, a small nod, or a fleeting glance.

But to you, every gesture from him gives you butterflies. His black hair falls effortlessly into place, framing his flawless face. His piercing eyes scan the crowd, and even though they never land on you, it feels like they do. The tiny mole near his eye, the way he smiles, it’s all too perfect, too intoxicating.

You can’t stop staring. You can’t look away.

"Now, it’s the fun part!” Sunghoon exclaims, his voice sparking excitement through the crowd.

The audience buzzes with anticipation, murmurs spreading around rapidly. Fun part? Your stomach tightens, a mix of curiosity and hope swirling inside you.

The stage lights brighten as staff members hurry onto the platform, carrying a small table with a large glass bowl resting on top. Sunghoon steps forward, his presence catching everyone’s attention.

“In this bowl,” he announces, his voice smooth and teasing, “are slips with seat numbers. If I pick your number, you’ll get the lucky chance to come on stage and take a photo with me.”

The crowd explodes into cheers and screams, the energy palpable. Your heart hammers against your ribs. Could it be you? Out of thousands of people, could you really be the one?

Sunghoon dips his hand into the bowl, the motion slow and deliberate. Your breath catches as you watch his fingers swirl through the slips of paper, your body tense. The air feels heavy, and every second stretches longer than it should.

Finally, he pulls out a slip, holding it between his fingers like it holds the secrets of the universe. The audience hushes, a sharp silence falling over the room. Your palms are clammy, and you press them against your thighs.

“B14!”

Gasps ripple through the crowd as heads twist, scanning for the lucky winner. You glance down at the back of your seat, where “G25” is engraved, and disappointment sinks in. Not you.

“It seems like B14 isn’t here,” Sunghoon remarks, his tone light. He reaches back into the bowl, his hand swirling through the papers again.

Your heart races faster, the hope creeping back in. Your fingers clutch the armrests, nails digging into the fabric. Time slows as he pulls out another slip, unfolding it with a teasing smile.

“G25.”

Your heart stops. For a moment, the world seems to blur, the only thing you hear is the pounding of your pulse.

Your seat number.

Your heart thunders wildly in your chest. You’re going to be up close with Park Sunghoon.

Slowly, you rise from your seat, your knees shaky, the weight of thousands of eyes falling on you. But it doesn’t matter, not when his eyes find yours. For a brief moment, Sunghoon stares, his gaze sweeping over you in a way that makes your breath hitch. The corner of his lips curls into a slow, deliberate smirk. He lifts a finger, motioning for you to come on stage.

And you do.

Each step toward him feels surreal, like you’re walking through a dream. The bright stage lights blind you for a second, but then you see him. Right in front of you. Closer than you’ve ever imagined.

He’s perfect… no, more than perfect. Up close, he seems almost unreal, his features sharper. The crowd murmurs, some fans letting out squeals of excitement, but all you can focus on is him.

Sunghoon extends a hand, his fingers long and steady. Tentatively, you place yours in his. His palm is warm, his grip firm, and it swallows yours completely. With a gentle tug, he pulls you closer, so close you can feel his breath ghost against your skin.

Then, he wraps his arms around you.

Your heart threatens to burst as he holds you, his embrace firm yet careful, like he knows exactly what this moment means to you. His scent: fresh and intoxicating, fills your senses, and for a second, the world disappears. You don’t want to move. You don’t want this to end.

A camera flashes, and Sunghoon tilts his head toward you, his lips brushing close to your ear.

“Look at the camera, princess.” he whispers, his voice low, sending shivers down your spine.

You glance up, dazed, and meet his smirking gaze as the camera captures the moment.

You plaster a smile on your face as the cameras flash, capturing the moment that feels too perfect to be real. But then, you feel it; a subtle movement, his hand slipping into your pocket. Your heart skips a beat. Did he just…?

You turn your head slightly to look at him, confusion flickering in your eyes. Sunghoon doesn’t say a word, only meeting your gaze with a soft, knowing smile. It’s the kind of smile that makes your knees weak.

Your heart flutters, the moment feeling surreal, almost too good to be true. His closeness, the way his presence dominates everything else, leaves you breathless. But as quickly as it began, it’s over.

The staff gestures for you to step down, and disappointment washes over you like a cold wave. You force yourself to walk off the stage, each step feeling heavier as the distance between you and Sunghoon grows. Your chest tightens as you return to your seat, the memory of his warmth already fading.

But still, you smile faintly to yourself. You got a picture with Park Sunghoon, not just a picture, the picture. His arms were around you, holding you like you mattered, even for a fleeting moment.

As you settle back into your seat, a strange sensation tugs at your memory. The pocket.

Your hand shoots down to check, your fingers brushing against a small slip of paper. Pulling it out, your breath catches. Written in messy handwriting are the words:

“Call me. +0 xxxx xxxxx xxx”

Your heart stops, the paper trembling in your hands. You glance up at the stage, where Sunghoon continues to smile and interact with the crowd, as if nothing had happened.

When you finally get home, you collapse onto your bed, clutching the small slip of paper in your trembling hand. Your eyes scan the number over and over, your thoughts racing uncontrollably. Is this a joke? Why would he do this?

Your heart pounds in your chest as doubt creeps in. Was he just playing with you? Or could this really be real?

Your other hand hesitates as it slips into your pocket and pulls out your phone. The paper crinkles softly in your grasp as you stare at the digits, debating with yourself. But before you can talk yourself out of it, your fingers move almost instinctively, typing the number into your contacts.

You pause. Your thumb hovers over the screen for a long moment before you finally gather the courage to send a single message:

“hello?”

The moment the message delivers, you throw your phone onto the bed, your heart threatening to burst out of your chest. You bury your face in your hands, convinced this is all some elaborate prank. Maybe he does this at every fan meeting. Maybe—

Your phone buzzes.

The sound jolts you, and your head snaps up. Your breathing falters as you reach for the screen, hands shaking slightly. With a swipe, the notification pops up:

“hello princess.”

Your heart freezes. The room feels smaller, like the air’s been sucked out of it. Staring at the message, you feeling your heart beat rapidly.

It wasn’t a prank. It was real.

And Sunghoon had just texted you.

“R u real..?” you type, your hands trembling as you hit send.

The response comes almost instantly, as if he was waiting for you.

“Why wouldn’t I be? I put my number in your pocket, after all.”

You stare at the screen, biting your lip. The words feel surreal, like something straight out of a dream or maybe a cruel joke. You sigh, still unable to shake the doubt crawling through your mind.

Before you can respond, another message pops up:

“By the way, I told you to call me, not text me.”

“So call me.”

Your heart races, the pounding in your ears almost drowning out everything else. For a moment, you just sit there, staring at the screen.

Could this really be happening?

Your thumb hovers over the call button, hesitation gripping you. But the curiosity, the chance that this might be real, pushes you forward.

With a deep breath, you press it.

The phone rings twice. Just twice.

Then, the other line picks up.

Your heart stops as silence falls between you, your hand gripping the phone so tightly your knuckles turn white. You stay quiet, your mind scrambling for what to say, still half-convinced this is some elaborate prank.

But then you hear it:

“Are you gonna speak to me?” His voice is smooth, teasing yet commanding, the kind that makes your chest tighten.

It’s really him. You’re actually talking to the real Park Sunghoon.

“H-Hello…” you manage to stutter, your voice barely above a whisper.

He chuckles softly on the other end, the sound sending shivers down your spine. “You sound nervous, princess. Didn’t I tell you to call me? And here you are, all shy now.”

“I-I just didn’t know if it was really you…” you admit, your words tumbling out awkwardly.

“You doubted me?” he asks, his tone light but with a faint edge of amusement. “Do you think I go around giving random fans my number?”

“No! I just—” you stammer, but he cuts you off."

"Relax,” he says, his voice dropping slightly, more serious now. “I wouldn’t waste my time playing games like that. If I put my number in your pocket, it’s because I wanted you to use it.”

The way he says it... so certain, makes your heart race even faster.

“O-Okay…” you stutter, unsure of what else to say.

“Good.” He pauses, and you hear the faint sound of him shifting, like he’s getting comfortable.

For a moment, there was an awkward silence, and you couldn’t help but feel a strange mix of confusion and excitement talking to him.

"I’m sorry, but I just want to know… why did you want me to have your number?" You ask, your voice trembling slightly, unsure of how to phrase it. "I mean… isn’t this kind of dangerous for your reputation?"

He laughs, the sound low and rich, like it’s just for you. "Anything’s worth a risk if it’s with a pretty girl like you."

The words hit you like a wave. Pretty. Park Sunghoon just called you pretty. Your heart flutters uncontrollably, a rush of warmth flooding your cheeks. You can almost feel the heat spreading across your face as your mind tries to catch up with his words.

"Y-You think I’m pretty?" You manage to ask, barely able to form a coherent sentence.

"Did you think I was just playing around?" He pauses, a smirk evident in his voice. "I don’t give out my number to just anyone, princess. I gave it to you because I wanted to."

You swallow hard, trying to steady your breath. The idea of him wanting you feels almost impossible, but his confidence, his voice, so sure of itself, makes it feel like nothing could be truer.

"You’re still quiet," he adds, his voice dropping lower. "You’re shy, aren’t you?"

"I’m not shy," you lie, but even you can hear the hesitation in your voice.

"Mm, sure you’re not." He laughs again, but this time, it feels more teasing, like he’s enjoying every bit of your nervousness. "You’re just nervous because you know I’m real. You can hear my voice, feel the heat between us already. Don’t tell me it doesn’t make you want me, too."

Your breath catches. The way he speaks, so sure of himself, like he already knows everything about you, makes your pulse spike. "I… I don’t know what to say."

"You don’t have to say anything," he murmurs, his voice almost a whisper. "Just listen, and let me show you how real this is."

Your heart beats faster, the line between fantasy and reality blurring with every word he speaks.

"Just admit it," he continues, his tone turning more seductive. "You wanted this. You wanted me to notice you. And now I have."

You can barely breathe, his words echoing in your mind. "I… I didn’t think it would be like this."

"Of course, you didn’t," he says, his voice full of confidence. "But now that we’re here, don’t pretend you’re not enjoying it. Don’t pretend you don’t want more."

You bite your lip, your thoughts racing. How could you want anything else? He made it clear that he was interested in you, and the idea of it is too thrilling to ignore.

"Tell me," he presses, his voice low and husky, "do you want more?"

Your heart stops at the question. But the truth is, you don’t even have to think about it. "Yes." The word slips out before you can stop it.

"Yeah, princess?" His voice is a low, teasing drawl, almost like he's savoring every moment.

You can feel your breath hitching, your nerves on edge, unable to believe this is really happening. Just a few hours ago, you were in the crowd, just another face in the sea of fans, and now your here, getting wet while he's on the other line.

You couldn't help it. The way he teased you, the tone of his voice, dominant and authoritative. You could feel your panties grow increasingly wet the more he talked to you.

You needed him, and you wanted him to know that.

"Sunghoon.." you murmur as you slowly slide your hand underneath your underwear, your fingers feeling your aching clit.

"Mm, I'm listening princess. I know what you want." His voice gets raspy, which only led to you to rub your clit in a faster pace. God, it felt so good. This wasn't the first time you've touched yourself to Sunghoon.

But this was different, he could hear you. He could hear your light whimpers as you rubbed your clit to his voice. You imagined his large veiny hands slowly going down on your aching wet cunt and fingering you till you couldn't take it anymore.

Suddenly, he hangs up the phone.

You stare at your phone screen, wide-eyed and in disbelief. The call abruptly ends, leaving you in the sudden silence. Your heart pounds, a mix of confusion and frustration clouding your thoughts. Was that it? Did he just... hang up?

For a moment, you can’t bring yourself to move. You stare at the blank screen, hoping he might call back. Maybe it was an accident, right? Maybe he had to go. But as the seconds tick by, you feel your disappointment kicking in.

You clutch your phone tighter, trying to calm your racing mind. Was he playing with you? Why would he do that? You thought everything was going well. But now... there’s only silence, and it makes your thoughts spiral.

"Did I do something wrong?" you whisper to yourself, unsure if you even want an answer.

Minutes pass. You’re about to convince yourself that it was all a mistake when your phone buzzes suddenly, breaking the silence.

It's a message from Sunghoon.

When you click on the notification, your shocked to see that it wasn't a message he sent, but a location.

Your pulse quickens as your eyes scan the address. It’s a motel, not too far from where you live. The realization hits you like a cold wave, leaving you both excited and nervous at once. What was he thinking? Why here?

You stare at the screen, your heart racing as your fingers hover over the keys. Is this real? You ask yourself.

But before you can talk yourself out of it, you find yourself typing a response, your mind still whirling.

"I’m on my way."

The ride to the motel feels like it takes forever, your thoughts bouncing between excitement and anxiety. You keep imagining what will happen when you get there, what he’ll say, what you’ll do. Your hands are clammy, your stomach doing flips with each passing minute.

Finally, you arrive, the dim lights of the motel casting long shadows over the parking lot. The nerves in your body are almost overwhelming, and yet, you feel a magnetic pull urging you forward.

You take a deep breath and step out of your car, the cool night air brushing against your skin. Every step feels heavy as you walk toward the entrance. Your heart beats faster with each step closer to the room.

You reach the door, and before you can even knock, it swings open.

There he is. Park Sunghoon. Standing just a few feet away, his expression unreadable. His eyes meet yours, and in that moment, the world around you seems to disappear.

"Come in," he says, his voice calm but holding an intensity that makes your pulse race.

You hesitate for a moment, unsure if you should take the step forward, but his gaze holds you in place, pulling you in. You don’t say a word as you walk into the room, your breath shallow, your body tense with anticipation.

The door shuts behind you with a soft click, and you’re left standing there, face-to-face with him.

As you step into the dimly lit room, the door softly closing behind you, the air shifts. The space feels smaller somehow, as if the weight of what’s about to happen is pressing in around you. Sunghoon stands in the center of the room, looking at you with that familiar intensity, his eyes dark yet filled with something more.

He doesn’t speak at first, just watches you with a quiet sort of patience, as if giving you time to adjust to the moment. Your heart races, and you feel the familiar flutter of nerves settle deep in your stomach.

“Come here,” he says, his voice low, coaxing.

You hesitate for a moment, the air thick with the unspoken tension. You know what he wants, but there’s still something inside you that holds back, unsure of whether you should take that next step. But Sunghoon doesn’t wait for you to make up your mind. With a few slow steps, he closes the distance between you, his hand reaching out to gently cup your cheek.

His touch is soft but firm, as if he’s grounding you, and you can’t help but lean into it. His thumb brushes over your skin in slow, soothing circles, and the tension between you builds, an electric current crackling in the space around you.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, his words so quiet you almost think you imagined them. But you didn’t. His eyes never leave yours, studying every flicker of emotion that crosses your face, as if he’s searching for something, something to pull him closer.

You swallow hard, your pulse quickening at his words, feeling like they hold more weight than they should. There’s something in the way he says it, the way his voice dips, just turns you on.

The space between you seems to disappear in an instant, and Sunghoon leans in just enough to rest his forehead against yours. The proximity makes your breath catch in your throat, the tension between you almost suffocating, but at the same time, you can’t tear yourself away.

For a moment, neither of you moves, both of you just breathing in the same air, letting the silence stretch between you, heavy with anticipation. You feel like you’re on the edge of something, but you’re not sure what that something is yet.

“You don’t have to be nervous,” he says softly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I just want to be close to you.”

Before you can react, Sunghoon tilts his head just slightly, his lips brushing against your forehead in a light, lingering kiss. His breath is warm against your skin, and the softness of his kiss sends a flutter through you. It’s gentle, but the weight of it makes your chest tighten, a quiet but undeniable ache building inside you.

When he pulls back, just enough to look into your eyes again, you can see it in his gaze, he wants you right now.

It’s your turn now, and without thinking, you close the space between you, your lips meeting his in a rough, intense kiss. It’s everything—the warmth of his mouth against yours, the way his hand slides to the back of your neck, pulling you closer with a quiet urgency. The kiss deepens, his tongue making way into your mouth. His free hand makes it's way under your shirt, as he manages to unclasp your bra easily.

You pull away from the kiss, looking at his piercing eyes. Sunghoon breathes slowly, staring right you with a smirk on his face. And just like a flash, you could feel him roughly pull up your shirt, causing your bra to fall in the process. Now you stood completely topless infront of him.

He stared at your delicate breasts, before lowering himself to lick your hard nipple. You bite your lips to hold back a whimper that dared to escape. He looked so fucking good. His eyes wander back up at yours before he latched his mouth on your entire nipple, sucking softly. You could feel yourself grow wet at his actions as you whimpered softly at the gentle pleasure Sunghoon was giving you. He slowly pulls away and gives small kisses to your breast before trailing it down your stomach.

"You're so fucking pretty. I need to taste that pussy princess." Sunghoon whispers before pulling down your skirt, revealing the cute pink lacy panties you wore, just for him.

He smirks at the sight of them, your stomach churned in embarrassment as he slowly pulled down your panties, a trail of your wetness sticking onto the pantie as it went down.

Sunghoon almost drools at the sight of your wet pussy. All you guys did was just kiss and yet your already this turned on? He felt himself getting hard just at the mere sight of you being this pathetic. He pushes you lightly against the wall, making you lean on it before spreading your legs slightly more open. Your whole pussy is now in clear view infront of him and the scent of your cunt is driving him crazy.

His lips make contact with the plush of your inner thighs, planting small kisses in different spots. His teasing only further driving you crazy and more needy. You let out a breathy whisper saying his name, and he just smirks while looking up at you.

His hands hold your thighs apart while he uses his thumbs to spread your pussy lips, giving your clit more space. He brings his mouth closer to your cunt before licking a small stripe from your leaking hole to your clit, spreading your wetness alll over. That action alone leaves your stomach churning. His tongue starts to give your clit small kitty licks.

"Mpmh, oh.. fuck-" you whimper as you bite your lip to prevent any more noises from leaving your mouth.

Feeling riled up, Sunghoon starts to suck on your clit. His eyes never leaving yours, staring at you while his tongue works wonders. Your fingers fists his hair as he slowly brings his fingers up to cunt, inserting a finger in. You tug his hair harder at the sudden feeling of his long finger inside you, making him moan into your wet cunt. Your moans can't stop leaving past your lips, this only motivates Sunghoon to insert another finger inside, thrusting them at a quick pace.

"It's so fucking good Hoon!-" You cry out loud, his thick fingers feeling inside your warm walls, already having you see clouds.

“Taking it like such a good girl..” he mumbles, the vibrations of his voice stimulating your clit even further.

You could feel your stomach forming a knot, it was too intense. Your legs feeling weak and the only support being Sunghoon's hands that are gripping your thighs tightly. You couldn't take it anymore.

"H-Hoon- 'm close!" You babble out. Sunghoon continues to curl his fingers inside you at an even faster pace, his tongue pressed hardly against your clit making an '8' motion. The knot becomes too tight, and you couldn't hold it in anymore.

You finally let loose, letting your orgasm wash over you. Your legs begin to tremble as you grip Sunghoon's hair so tight, you almost felt like you were about to rip some of it off his hair. His tongue and fingers slowed down a little, helping you ride off your orgasm. You take heavy breaths, looking at him as he just smiles before starting to thrust his fingers in and out of you at a rough pace.

"Hoon- I can't take it-" Your choke out your cries as now he starts to overstimulate your cunt. Your legs start to shiver and kick around gently, trying to get him off your pussy.

"Be a good girl and stay still." His voice, raspy and dominant. He only looks up at you with a smirk as his fingers ram in and out of you, making you feel the familiar feeling of the knot in your stomach again.

Not even two minutes had passed by since your first orgasm, and your already feeling your second orgasm wanting to unleash all over his fingers. Sunghoon curls his fingers, directly feeling your g-spot which sends you over the moon. And with that, you squirt all over his fingers. Making a sticky mess from your cunt to his fingers to the floor.

You look at him, still in a daze, your heart pounding relentlessly inside your chest. You were nervous—really nervous. You hadn’t done anything like this in forever, and now… with Park Sunghoon? The thought sent your mind spiraling as a bead of sweat trickled down your temple.

He seemed to sense your hesitation, his sharp gaze softening just enough to catch your unease. Without a word, his hand moved, fingers still dirty with your cum, and cupped your cheek.

“Let’s take a bath together, yeah?” His voice dropped, low and smooth. His lips curved into a faint smile. “We can’t have you all tensed up here.”

Before you could gather your thoughts, he straightened, turning with an almost lazy confidence as he headed toward the bathroom.

The warm water sunk you, soothing your tense muscles as you leaned back against the tub. The room was dim, lit only by the soft glow of a single light above the sink. You ran your fingers absentmindedly along the surface of the water, thinking about him.

A soft knock at the bathroom door startled you.

“You decent?” Sunghoon’s familiar voice called out, teasing but warm.

You managed a nervous chuckle, “We’re way past that, don’t you think?”

The door creaked open, and there he was, his dark hair slightly damp from the steam, clinging to his forehead, his eyes catching the soft light. Without saying a word, he stepped into the room, letting his towel drop with casual ease.

You quickly looked away, your cheeks flushing as the sound of water shifted behind you. You felt the weight of him stepping into the tub, the water level rising as he sank in across from you.

The space between you felt both small and vast, the soft lapping of water, the quiet hum of his breathing. For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence hanging comfortably in the air.

“You’re quiet,” he finally said, his voice low.

“I just…” You paused, searching for words. “I’m still trying to process all this. It feels… surreal.”

He leaned back against the edge of the tub, his dark eyes studying you. “I get that. Believe me, I do.”

You tilted your head, curiosity piqued by the sudden seriousness in his tone. “Do you?”

“More than you think.” He let out a soft sigh, his gaze dropping to the water. “People always see me as… well, him. The idol. The perfect image. The untouchable Sunghoon.” His lips twitched into a bitter smile. “But that’s not who I am. Not really.”

His words hung heavy in the air, and you felt your chest tighten. You leaned forward slightly, resting your arms on your knees. “Then who are you? Really?”

His eyes flickered up to meet yours, something raw and unguarded glimmering beneath the surface. “I’m just a guy. A guy who’s scared of letting people see the parts of him that aren’t perfect. The parts that don’t shine on stage.” He paused, his jaw tightening for a moment before continuing. “There’s so much I keep buried. So many things I’ve never told anyone.”

Your heart ached at the vulnerability in his voice. “Why are you telling me this?”

He hesitated, his fingers tracing small circles in the water. “Because… with you, it feels different. Like I don’t have to try so hard. Like maybe, just maybe, I can be myself for once.”

His words hit you like a wave, and you felt your chest swell with an emotion you couldn’t quite name. He looked up again, his gaze softer now, the smallest hint of a smile playing on his lips.

“It’s scary, you know,” he murmured, his voice barely audible over the water. “Letting someone see all the messy parts of you. But with you… it doesn’t feel so scary.”

The weight of his confession settled between you, and you realized how close you’d leaned toward him without noticing. You reached out instinctively, your fingers brushing against his beneath the water.

“I’m glad you trust me,” you said softly, your voice trembling with sincerity. “It… means a lot.”

For a moment, he just looked at you, the intensity of his gaze making your breath hitch. “You’re special,” he said finally, his voice steady, resolute. “And I don’t say that lightly.”

The warmth of his words wrapped around you like a blanket, and for the first time since stepping into the tub, you felt completely at ease. The space between you... it felt safe.

The two of you sat there, the water cooling slightly as time slipped away, sharing stories and moments that no one else would ever know. And in that quiet, steamy bathroom, you felt a connection deeper than you’d ever imagined.

"It-It's too big.. fuck I can't-" you hiss out, your words coming out breathy as Sunghoon inserts his tip inside your wet hole. Of course, you both being naked in a bathtub together would lead to you being bent over the tub, his hands on your hips as he slowly inserts himself in.

"You can take it for me princess, be good and let me do the work." He says in a husky whisper.

Your walls suddenly feel full as he inserts himself fully inside your cunt. You led out a load moan, the pleasure overwhelming you. Sunghoon adjusted himself, gripping onto the flesh of your hips before starting to move.

He first moved slowly and carefully, putting just enough force to make his dick enter you all the way and make you feel completely full. His movements were perfect, the mixture of his precum and your cum from your previous orgasms creating the perfect lube for his dick. His hand on your hip tightened as he was feeling drunk every time your pussy swallowed his cock and he felt the warmth of your walls covering every inch of it.

"Fuck princess, you feel so fucking good. God, I love you and this sweet cunt of yours."

The sudden confession from your idol only makes you further clench around his cock, making him groan as he frees one of his hands from your hips to wrap them around your neck, lightly choking you.

“I-I love..- ngh-” you muttered out barely, “you..!” you emphasized that word really loudly, causing him to chuckle and to only quicken his pace, knowing the affect he had on you.

His cock twitched inside your pussy, making you understand that he's going to cum soon. You weren't getting any further from your orgasm as his movements became more rough. The sound of your guy's skins slapping each other and moans echoed throughout the bathroom. You could feel your chest burn up as he continues to quicken his pace, his balls hitting your cunt which vibrated towards your clit, giving you extra stimulation. His thrusts became more needy, and you could barely form coherent thoughts and the grip on your neck only become tighter, having you take quick breaths between each thrust.

“Hoon...!” you moaned out his name before you couldn't take it anymore. You could feel you wet yourself around his cock, causing him to let out a small chuckle as the scene got more messy. Sunghoon, no longer able to hold back, thrusted a few more times before he finally came. The sudden feeling of his warm cum filling you up inside made your legs twitch, Sunghoon groans from the feeling of satisfaction of the long needing orgasm. You both pant heavily as you both ride out your orgasms, before he pulls out, leaving your cunt empty with only his cum inside.

He admires the sight infront of him. You, bent over, with his cum dripping out of your pussy. His fingers grabs any cum lingering outside and brings it up to your hole before inserting his finger in gently, preventing anything from spilling out of your sweet cunt. His gentle action causing you to let out a small moan as he pulls his finger out of your sensitive pussy.

"You really enjoyed that didn't you?" He teases, making you turn your head to look at him and nod.

The two of you walked side by side, the soft hum of the city filling the silence between you. You clung to his arm, your grip firm as if afraid he’d slip away. The cool night air kissed your skin, but despite your closeness, something felt off.

Sunghoon’s focus was on his phone, his face illuminated by the glow of the screen. His brows furrowed occasionally, his thumbs tapping away with an ease that made it clear whatever he was doing held more importance than your presence beside him.

You glanced at him, your chest tightening with unspoken words. You tried to shake the creeping feeling of being invisible, telling yourself it was just nerves. After all, he had spent the night with you. That had to mean something, right?

“Did you have a good time tonight?” you asked softly, your voice barely above the hum of passing cars.

“Hmm?” he murmured, his eyes still glued to his phone. “Yeah, it was fine.”

Fine. The word stung more than you wanted to admit. You bit the inside of your cheek, hoping he’d elaborate, but he didn’t. Instead, he typed something quickly and let out a quiet chuckle—clearly amused by whatever was on his screen.

Your fingers tightened around his arm as you tried again, forcing a smile. “It’s nice out tonight. The city looks so pretty at this hour.”

“Mm,” he muttered, nodding absently.

Your smile faltered, and you turned your gaze to the ground. Each step toward the train station felt heavier, the initial glow of the night dimming with every passing second.

When you finally reached the platform, the faint rumble of an approaching train filled the air. You stopped walking, turning to face him. He didn’t notice at first, too busy scrolling on his phone, but you gently tugged on his sleeve, catching his attention.

“Sunghoon,” you said, your voice wavering slightly.

He looked up, his expression unreadable as he slipped his phone into his pocket. For a moment, you thought you’d see the same warmth he’d shown earlier, but his face remained calm, distant.

“I’ll text you when I get home, okay?” he said, his tone light but firm.

Your chest tightened at his words, but you nodded, forming a smile “Okay.”

The train screeched to a halt in front of him, and he took a step back, creating just enough space between you that it felt like miles. He gave you a small nod, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips, then turned to board the train.

You raised a hand in a half-hearted wave, watching as the doors closed behind him. The train pulled away moments later, leaving you standing alone on the platform.

It had been two weeks. Fourteen days of silence that chipped away at you, piece by piece.

After that night, after the promises whispered between breaths, you had waited. You’d replayed every moment, every touch, every word, trying to hold onto the warmth of him. But as the days stretched on, that warmth faded, replaced by an icy void in your chest.

You had convinced yourself that he was just busy. He was an idol, after all. His life wasn’t like yours. He had schedules to follow, appearances to make, fans to please. But even those excuses began to crumble under the weight of the silence.

At first, you’d kept it casual.

"Heyy! Did you make it home safe?"

"How are you?"

But when days passed with no reply, you became more vulnerable.

"Did I do something wrong?"

"Please, just let me know if you’re okay."

Each message went unanswered, some marked with the cruel sting of seen, others left on delivered, hanging in the void like a conversation with yourself.

The realization crept in slowly, like a shadow swallowing the light. He had used you. What felt so real to you—his touch, his whispered words, the way he’d held you so close—had been nothing more than a fleeting moment for him. A single night. You were just another girl to him.

And yet, even as the bitterness settled in your heart, there was a part of you that couldn’t let go. You couldn’t delete the messages you’d sent. You couldn’t bring yourself to block his number. A part of you still held onto the foolish hope that he’d text back, that he’d tell you it wasn’t what you thought, that he cared.

When you received the email reminder about his next fan meeting, your stomach twisted. The ticket had been booked weeks ago, back when the idea of seeing him again filled you with joy instead of dread. You debated not going, but the ticket was non-refundable, and deep down, you couldn’t resist the thought of seeing him again. Even if it hurt.

The day of the fan meeting came, and you moved through it like a ghost. The outfit you’d chosen weeks ago: a perfect blend of cute and casual now felt heavy on your body now. The usual excitement you felt while waiting in line, surrounded by fans buzzing with energy, was absent.

When Sunghoon finally stepped onto the stage, the crowd erupted in cheers, screams, and tears. You looked up at him, your breath hitching for a moment. He looked just as perfect as you remembered, his dark hair falling over his forehead, his smile as radiant as ever.

But as you watched him laugh and interact with the crowd, you felt none of the joy you used to. Instead, it felt like watching a stranger. The man who had held you, who had whispered promises in your ear, felt so far away now.

Your eyes followed him as he scanned the crowd, his gaze briefly landing on yours. Your heart leapt despite itself, but the moment passed as quickly as it came. His expression didn’t change. There was no flicker of recognition, no smile, no warmth. He simply looked away, moving on as if you were just another face in the sea of fans.

You tried to swallow the lump in your throat, but it refused to go away. The rest of the fan meeting blurred together, the moments dragging on painfully. By the time it ended, you felt relief—relief that you could finally leave, that you wouldn’t have to keep pretending you were okay.

You stood up, clutching your bag tightly as you made your way out of the venue. The noise of excited fans filled the air, but it all felt muffled, like you were underwater.

As you stepped outside into the cool evening air, your phone buzzed. You paused, your heart skipping a beat. Without thinking, you pulled it out, expecting it to be a notification about the event.

But it wasn’t.

His name flashed across your screen.

Your breath caught as you opened the message, your fingers trembling.

“Same place. Tonight.”

You didn’t reply. You didn’t need to. Deep down, you knew you’d go.

For a moment, you felt like the world was spinning too fast, like you were losing control. And maybe that’s exactly what he wanted.

Because even though you knew better, even though every part of you screamed that this wasn’t love, you stayed.

And he knew you would.

[reidmarieprentiss]

Too Sweet

Summary: Y/N knows Spencer is too good for her.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: smut (18+), angst, light fluff

Warnings/Includes: porn with plot, additional warnings under the cut, cosplay, wearing dress, use of Y/N, alcohol consumption

Word count: 11.9k

a/n: idk man i really want him

main masterlist

part two part three

Additional warnings: breast & nipple play, fingering, oral (m&f), PinV protected, biting

The convention hall buzzed with excitement, filled with an array of fans dressed as their favorite characters from the iconic series, Doctor Who. The air was alive with the chatter of people discussing their favorite episodes, theories about the show's plot twists, and the inevitable debates about which Doctor was the best. Vendors lined the walls, offering everything from collectible sonic screwdrivers to handmade TARDIS keychains.

Spencer Reid and Penelope Garcia were two of these enthusiastic attendees. Spencer was dressed impeccably as his favorite Doctor, the Eleventh, complete with a tweed jacket, bow tie, and fez perched jauntily on his head. Penelope, meanwhile, dazzled as the vibrant Thirteenth Doctor, sporting a rainbow-striped shirt, long coat, and bright yellow suspenders. Her hair was styled to perfection, and she wore a replica of the Thirteenth Doctor’s sonic screwdriver clipped to her belt.

They had spent the day gleefully exploring the convention together, indulging in all the nerdy joys the event had to offer. Panels, merchandise, photo ops with actors—they were having a fantastic time. They even participated in a trivia contest, which Spencer naturally excelled in, earning them a special edition Doctor Who poster. Everything was going splendidly until they ran into Penelope's ex, Kevin Lynch, who had the audacity to show up with his new date, a tall brunette who seemed to be equally as nerdy as Penelope.

Penelope's face fell as she spotted Kevin, her previous enthusiasm dimming slightly. She forced a smile and waved at Kevin, who looked surprised but waved back, a bit awkwardly.

"Penelope!" Kevin said, trying to sound cheerful but failing miserably. "It's, uh, great to see you here."

"Yeah, you too, Kevin," Penelope replied, her voice wavering slightly as she glanced at his date. She couldn't help but feel a pang of embarrassment and an awkward tension that hung in the air.

The encounter was brief, but it left Penelope feeling deflated. After exchanging a few pleasantries, she quickly excused herself and turned to Spencer, whispering that she needed a moment alone. Spencer nodded understandingly, his eyes filled with empathy, and watched as Penelope hurried off, clearly upset.

Now alone amidst the bustling crowd, Spencer found himself wandering around the convention hall, a bit lost without Penelope by his side. Despite being surrounded by thousands of people who shared his interests, he felt an uncomfortable sense of solitude creeping in. He adjusted his bow tie nervously, his eyes scanning the room for a friendly face or familiar sight.

As he wandered, Spencer couldn't help but feel self-conscious, almost like a lost puppy in a sea of strangers. The convention was vast, and though he loved the atmosphere, it was a lot to take in alone. He fiddled with his fez, trying to focus on the displays and booths around him, but the sense of being out of place lingered.

It was then that he noticed you, standing a short distance away, dressed as the most enchanting character from Doctor Who—Madame de Pompadour, The Girl in the Fireplace.

Your costume was a stunning recreation of the elegant 18th-century dress worn by Reinette, complete with intricate lace details, flowing skirts, and an opulent corset that captured the character's timeless beauty. A perfectly styled wig with cascading curls crowned your head, adding an authentic touch to your ensemble. You wore a delicate mask in your hand, which you twirled absentmindedly as you observed the convention floor, your eyes occasionally flicking toward Spencer with an amused curiosity. But what struck Spencer most was your warm smile, a beacon of kindness amidst the chaos.

You had noticed Spencer earlier, observing him with a gentle curiosity as he meandered through the crowd. Something about his endearing awkwardness and the way he carried himself drew your attention, and you found yourself walking over to him, compelled by a mix of admiration and empathy.

With a kind and playful smile, you approached him and said, "Hey, you look lost. Do you need help finding your parents?"

Spencer's eyes widened in surprise at your teasing comment, and he let out a surprised snort, momentarily caught off guard. He quickly recovered from his initial embarrassment and noticed the twinkle of amusement in your eyes.

"Uh, no, no thank you," he replied with a sheepish grin. "I was given permission to look around by myself."

Your laughter was infectious, and Spencer felt the tightness in his chest ease. It was as if your presence alone had a calming effect, grounding him in the moment and reminding him that he wasn't truly alone. Your genuine kindness and humor were like a breath of fresh air.

"I'm glad to hear it," you said, still smiling as you playfully curtsied. "I'm Y/N, by the way. A fellow time traveler, it seems."

Spencer hesitated for a moment before bowing slightly at the waist, feeling a little more confident now. "Spencer Reid," he replied, introducing himself. "And yes, it seems we both have a knack for getting lost in time."

Your shared laugh seemed to lighten the atmosphere, and Spencer couldn't help but feel grateful for your unexpected companionship. It was a simple moment, yet it carried a weight of significance—an unexpected connection made in the most delightful of circumstances.

As the vibrant crowd continued to flow around you, your conversation with Spencer felt like a moment suspended in time, a quiet bubble amidst the lively chaos of the convention. The laughter, chatter, and occasional shout of delight from fellow fans echoed through the hall, but you found yourself entirely focused on the man standing before you.

"So, Spencer," you began, looking around at the lively crowd, "what's been your favorite part of the convention so far?"

“Well, I won the trivia contest!” Spencer replied with enthusiasm, his eyes lighting up with pride. “I love seeing everyone’s costumes too, the creativity and thought they put into them is inspiring. And the food court! Did you see they have—why are you looking at me like that? Am I rambling? Oh, I am, hah, sorry.”

You chuckled softly, finding his rambling endearing. “Don’t stop on my account; I happen to think it’s very cute.”

Spencer blinked, momentarily caught off guard by your compliment. “You… you do?”

“Indeed, Doctor,” you replied with a playful glint in your eye.

“How did you know I’m a doctor?” he asked, genuinely curious.

“Um…” you pointed at his costume, a classic Doctor Who ensemble that perfectly captured the essence of the Eleventh Doctor. 

“Oh! Right, you meant Doctor Who Doctor,” he realized, a sheepish smile spreading across his face.

“Yes, but are you really a doctor?” you inquired, intrigued by the idea of him being both a fictional and real-life doctor.

Spencer nodded, his eyes reflecting a mix of humility and pride. “I have three PhDs.”

“Oh wow, that’s hot,” you said, your voice teasing yet sincere, enjoying the way his cheeks turned a faint shade of pink.

“What?” he squeaked, clearly flustered by your unexpected compliment.

“Tell me, Spencer… do you have plans after the convention?” you asked, leaning in slightly, your interest in him evident.

“Um, no, nope. No, I do not. Totally free,” Spencer stammered, trying to keep his composure but feeling his heart race at the prospect of spending more time with you.

“Good to know,” you replied with a warm smile. “Would you like to get a drink with me?”

“I would love to,” he answered, his voice brimming with exhilaration.

“Wonderful,” you said, pleased with his response.

The two of you exchanged numbers, a small gesture that felt monumental, sealing the promise of further connection beyond the convention's vibrant confines. As you parted ways, you couldn't help but feel a flutter of excitement at the thought of seeing him again.

As he watched you disappear into the colorful sea of costumes, you turned back to Spencer, your heart still racing with the promise of more time together. “I’ll see you later, Spencer,” you said, offering him one last lingering smile before slipping away into the crowd.

Spencer stood there for a moment, his mind whirling with possibilities and the thrill of new connections. As he adjusted his fez and prepared to rejoin Penelope, he smiled to himself, the Doctor Who theme echoing in the distance as he headed back into the lively fray.

—

Later that night, you and Spencer agreed to meet up at a cozy little bar nestled in a bustling neighborhood near your apartment. The day had been a whirlwind of excitement and adventure at the Doctor Who convention, but now, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the city lights twinkled, a new kind of eagerness filled the air.

You arrived at the bar first, filled with anticipation and nervousness. Gone was the elegant 18th-century gown you wore at the convention; you now wore a low-cut, tight shirt that hugged your curves and showed off a bit more cleavage than before. It was a bold choice, one that made you feel confident and sexy, and you hoped Spencer would appreciate it.

As you waited for Spencer to arrive, you couldn’t help but feel a flutter of fever at seeing him again. Something about his awkward charm and genuine kindness had struck a chord with you, and you were eager to see where the evening might lead.

When Spencer walked in, your breath caught at the sight of him. Gone was the Eleventh Doctor costume, replaced by a classic sweater vest ensemble that was quintessentially Spencer Reid. He wore a crisp button-down shirt under the vest, paired with slacks that somehow made him look both dorky and endearingly handsome. You found it incredibly attractive, and a smile tugged at your lips as he approached.

“Hey,” he said, a bit shyly, his eyes darting around the bar before settling on you. When he noticed your outfit, he froze for a moment, his eyes widening slightly at the sight of your low-cut shirt. “Wow, you look... amazing.”

“Thank you,” you replied, feeling a flush of warmth spread across your cheeks. “You clean up pretty well yourself, Doctor.”

Spencer chuckled, running a hand through his hair in a self-conscious gesture. “I, uh, didn’t know what to wear, but I’m glad it works.”

“Oh, it definitely works,” you assured him, your gaze lingering on his sweater vest. “I have a thing for sweater vests.”

He laughed, his cheeks tinged with pink. “Good to know. I have plenty of them.”

You motioned for him to join you at the bar, where you ordered drinks and settled into a comfortable conversation. The atmosphere was relaxed, with soft music playing in the background and the hum of conversations surrounding you.

“So, how did you get into Doctor Who?” Spencer asked, genuinely curious as he took a sip of his drink.

“I’ve always been a fan of science fiction,” you replied, leaning closer to ensure he could hear you over the chatter. “The idea of time travel, the adventures, and the characters just drew me in. Plus, the show has this amazing ability to make you think about life in new ways.”

Spencer nodded, clearly pleased with your answer. “I completely agree. The show is more than just entertainment; it’s a way to explore complex ideas and emotions. I think that’s why it resonates with so many people.”

“Exactly!” you said enthusiastically, enjoying the ease of conversation between you. “And what about you? What drew you to the series?”

Spencer shrugged, his eyes twinkling with the joy of discussing something he loved. “It started as a way to escape, I guess. Growing up, I didn’t have a lot of friends, but Doctor Who was like a companion, in a way. It taught me a lot about empathy and bravery.”

You smiled, touched by his honesty. “That’s really great, Spencer.”

“Thanks,” he said, looking a bit bashful under your gaze. “I’m glad I met someone who appreciates the show as much as I do.”

The conversation flowed effortlessly, a dance of words that brought you closer with each exchange. You found yourself laughing easily, the tension of earlier dissipating as you both shared stories and jokes, losing track of time in the warm ambiance of the bar.

As the night wore on, you noticed Spencer stealing glances at your shirt, his eyes flickering to your cleavage before quickly averting his gaze, trying to be polite. You couldn’t help but find his flustered reactions adorable, and you decided to tease him a little.

“Is there something interesting over here?” you asked, gesturing to your chest with a playful grin.

Spencer’s face turned a deep shade of red, and he stammered, “Uh, no, I mean, yes, but—oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to stare.”

You laughed softly, reaching out to touch his hand reassuringly. “Relax, Spencer. I don’t mind. It’s kind of flattering, actually.”

He exhaled, clearly relieved by your response. “Well, in that case, yes, it’s very distracting,” he admitted, a shy smile playing on his lips.

“Good to know I still have it,” you teased, leaning back in your chair with a satisfied expression.

Spencer chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. “You definitely do.”

A comfortable silence settled between you, filled with the promise of more to come. As the night deepened, the conversation shifted from playful banter to something more intimate, the chemistry between you undeniable.

“So, Spencer,” you said, your voice dropping to a more sultry tone. “What does the rest of your night look like? Are you all booked up?”

“Um, no, not really,” he replied, his heart racing as he caught the glint in your eye. “Why do you ask?”

“Well,” you said, leaning closer, “I was wondering if you’d like to come back to my place. We could continue our conversation somewhere a bit more private.”

Spencer’s eyes widened, and he swallowed hard, his mind spinning with possibilities. “I would love that,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Great,” you replied with a smile, feeling a thrill of anticipation as you both stood up, ready to leave the bar behind for the promise of what awaited you.

The walk back to your apartment was filled with a charged silence, the kind that spoke volumes without needing words. You felt Spencer’s presence beside you, a comforting warmth that made your heart race with excitement.

As you reached your apartment building, you turned to him, your eyes meeting in a shared understanding. “This is me,” you said, gesturing to the entrance.

“Nice place,” Spencer commented, trying to keep his cool despite the nerves bubbling inside him.

You unlocked the door and led him inside, your heart pounding with each step. The atmosphere was electric, one that promised something incredible.

Once inside, you turned to face Spencer, a playful smile on your lips. “Make yourself at home,” you said, gesturing to the cozy living room. “Can I get you anything?”

“Just some water would be great,” he replied, trying to steady his racing heart.

You nodded and disappeared into the kitchen, returning moments later with two glasses of water. As you handed one to Spencer, your fingers brushed against his, sending a jolt of electricity through you both.

“Thank you,” Spencer said, his voice warm and sincere.

“You’re welcome,” you replied, sitting down beside him on the couch. The proximity was intoxicating, and you could feel the tension building with each passing second.

“I have to say, I’m really glad we met today.” Spencer said, his voice slightly shaky. 

“Me too,” you agreed, your gaze locked on his.

The room seemed to shrink around you, the world fading away until it was just the two of you, enveloped in a bubble of connection and desire.

As you leaned in closer, your lips mere inches from his, Spencer’s breath hitched in suspense. You could feel the heat radiating from him, the magnetic pull drawing you together.

“Spencer,” you whispered, your voice a soft caress.

“Yes?” he replied, his eyes searching yours, filled with longing.

“Would you like to stay the night?” you asked, your words laced with an invitation that left little room for doubt.

Spencer swallowed, his heart racing as he processed your offer. “I’d love to,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

With that, you closed the distance between you, capturing his lips in a gentle yet passionate kiss. It was a kiss filled with promise and possibility, a moment that transcended the ordinary and ventured into the extraordinary.

Spencer kissed you back with a low whimper as he began to ravish you. His lips were soft and urgent against yours, moving with a hunger that sent shivers down your spine. You could feel the strain in his body as he pressed against you, his hands finding their way to your waist, pulling you closer. The heat between you was palpable, an electric current that seemed to spark and crackle in the air around you.

You responded eagerly, threading your fingers through his hair, feeling the silky strands slip between your fingers as you deepened the kiss. The taste of him was intoxicating, a mix of the lingering sweetness of the drinks you'd shared earlier and something distinctly Spencer that made you crave more.

Spencer's hands moved with a purpose, exploring the curves of your body with a gentle yet insistent touch that left you breathless. His fingertips traced the outline of your spine, sending delightful tingles through your skin as they traveled lower, coming to rest on the small of your back. You arched into his touch, pressing your body more firmly against his, savoring the feel of him against you.

With a quiet moan, Spencer shifted, guiding you backward until you were lying beneath him on the couch. He broke the kiss for a moment, his breath warm and ragged against your lips as he gazed down at you with a smoldering intensity. The look in his eyes sent a thrill through you, a promise of the pleasures to come.

Spencer leaned down, capturing your lips once more as his hands continued their exploration. His touch was both tender and demanding, a perfect balance that left you yearning for more. You felt his fingers trail over your exposed skin, slipping beneath the fabric of your low-cut shirt, and you shivered in anticipation as he began to explore further.

The sensation of his hands against your bare skin was electrifying, each touch sending ripples of pleasure through your body. You could feel the heat pooling low in your belly, an insistent ache that begged for more as Spencer's touch became more insistent. His hands roamed over your body with a confidence that contradicted the initial shyness you had seen in him earlier.

Your shirt slipped further up your torso, and Spencer's lips left yours to follow the path his hands had traced moments before. His mouth moved with a deliberate slowness, leaving a trail of heated kisses along your jawline, down the column of your neck, and across your collarbone. Each kiss was a promise, a vow of what was to come, and you found yourself lost in the sensations he was creating.

As Spencer's mouth traveled lower, you let out a soft sigh of pleasure, your hands finding purchase on his shoulders, fingers digging into the fabric of his sweater vest. The texture of the material beneath your fingertips was a comforting contrast to the fiery sensations his lips and hands were invoking, grounding you even as you felt yourself soaring.

Spencer's lips moved over the swell of your breasts, his touch reverent yet possessive, as if he were memorizing every inch of your skin with his mouth. You felt a thrill at the thought of being the focus of his attention. 

Spencer’s lips ghosted over your skin, each kiss sending waves of heat coursing through your body. As he reached the edge of your shirt, he paused, his fingers gently teasing the hem as he looked up at you with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“Are you planning on keeping this on all night?” he murmured, his voice low and teasing.

You chuckled softly, a playful smile dancing on your lips. “Well, Doctor, I thought I’d give you something to unwrap. Consider it a mystery.”

Spencer grinned, his fingers deftly pulling your shirt higher until it slipped over your head, leaving you exposed beneath him. His gaze raked over your bare skin, appreciation evident in his eyes. “Mystery solved,” he whispered, his tone filled with a mixture of desire and admiration.

You felt a rush of heat at his words, your skin tingling. “You’re a fast learner,” you replied, your voice sultry as you reached up to pull him back down to you. “But let’s see if you can handle what’s next.”

His eyes darkened with intensity at your challenge, and he captured your lips in another heated kiss, his hands exploring your newly exposed skin with renewed vigor. The sensations were dizzying, each touch and caress a testament to his growing confidence and desire.

Spencer’s hands traveled down your sides, tracing the curves of your waist and hips before slipping beneath the waistband of your pants. You let out a quiet moan, arching into his touch as he began to work them down, his fingers deft and sure.

“Getting a bit bold, aren’t we?” you teased, nipping at his lower lip as he freed you from the confines of your clothing.

“Just trying to keep up with you,” he retorted, his voice tinged with amusement as he leaned back to admire his handiwork.

You reached for the hem of his sweater vest, tugging it upwards with a playful smirk. “I think it’s time we even the playing field, don’t you?”

He chuckled, raising his arms to help you remove the vest, followed by his button-down shirt. You couldn’t help but appreciate the lean muscles beneath his clothing, the way his skin seemed to glow in the dim light of the room.

“Not bad, Doctor,” you quipped, your fingers tracing the lines of his chest appreciatively. “Maybe I should have gone to med school.”

Spencer let out a low laugh, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “I doubt they teach this in med school.”

“Oh, I’m sure there’s a course or two,” you replied, your fingers trailing lower, teasing the waistband of his pants.

He inhaled sharply, his body responding to your touch in a way that made you both feel like you were on fire. “I think we’re about to graduate to something more advanced,” he murmured, his voice a mix of fieriness and teasing.

You grinned, pulling him back down to you, your lips capturing his in a passionate kiss that promised more than words ever could. The heat between you was intense, a consuming fire that left you both breathless and wanting more.

Spencer’s hands continued their exploration, mapping every inch of your skin with a reverence that made your heart race. You could feel the tension building, a delicious feeling that promised to leave you both satisfied yet craving even more.

As you shifted beneath him, your body pressed against his in a way that made your intentions clear, you whispered, “What do you say we take this somewhere more comfortable?”

He nodded, his eyes filled with a hunger that matched your own. “Lead the way,” he replied, his voice husky with desire.

With that, you guided him toward your bedroom, the promise of what was to come hanging in the air like an electric charge. The world outside faded away, leaving only the two of you and the enticing possibilities that lay ahead.

Once inside your bedroom, the atmosphere shifted, the intimacy of the space amplifying the pull between you. The dim lighting cast shadows across the room, creating an intimate bubble that felt like it was just for you and Spencer.

You turned to face him, a teasing smile playing on your lips as you slowly backed toward the bed. “I hope you’re ready for this, Doctor.”

He followed, his movements confident and sure as he approached, his eyes never leaving yours. “I’ve been ready since the moment I saw you,” he replied, his voice low and filled with want.

As you sank onto the bed, Spencer joined you, his body warm and inviting against yours. The tension between you was palpable, a magnetic pull that drew you closer with each passing second.

You reached for him, your fingers tracing the lines of his jaw before pulling him in for another searing kiss. His lips were soft and insistent against yours, his touch possessive as he pressed you back against the sheets. The mattress dipped under your combined weight, and you felt the cool, crisp fabric of the sheets beneath your skin, a stark contrast to the heat radiating from Spencer’s body.

Spencer’s breath mingled with yours, warm and intoxicating with desire. His hands traveled with a deliberate slowness, exploring the curves and contours of your body as though committing every inch to memory. You felt his fingers skim over the bare skin of your arms, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake. The sensation was electric, sending delightful tingles coursing through your veins.

As he deepened the kiss, a low groan rumbled in his throat, vibrating through your body and sending a shiver of excitement down your spine. Your hands found their way to his back, feeling the taut muscles beneath his skin as you pulled him closer, craving the warmth and weight of him against you.

His lips moved with a languid, teasing rhythm, exploring the delicate skin of your neck with gentle, open-mouthed kisses that sent your heart racing. You tilted your head back, granting him better access as a soft sigh escaped your lips, filling the room with a quiet sound of pleasure.

Spencer’s kisses trailed lower, his breath hot against your skin as he made his way down your collarbone. The sensation was intoxicating, a delicious mix of tenderness and urgency that left you breathless. You felt his hands slide up your sides, his fingers grazing the sensitive skin beneath your ribcage before coming to rest on your waist.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured against your skin, his voice rough with desire.

You couldn’t help but smile, your fingers threading through his hair as you arched into his touch. “Get to the point, Doctor.”

He chuckled softly, the sound low and enticing, as he shifted his weight to hover above you, his eyes dark with longing. The air between you crackled with intensity, a potent mix of suspense and need that seemed to draw you even closer together.

Your breathing grew ragged, each inhale a shuddering gasp as you surrendered to the pleasure building inside you. Spencer’s touch was like a drug, addictive and all-consuming, leaving you dizzy with longing.

He paused for a moment, his eyes meeting yours, a silent question lingering between you. You nodded, giving him the permission he sought, and he smiled—a small, intimate curve of his lips that made your heart skip a beat.

Spencer hands deftly working to remove the last barriers between you. The sensation of the cool air against your skin was a delicious contrast to the heat radiating from his touch, sending shivers of need cascading through your body.

The room was filled with a symphony of soft sounds: the rustle of fabric as Spencer undressed you, the quiet hum of the city outside, and the rapid, excited beat of your own heart. The smell of your mingled scents—his cologne, a hint of your perfume, and the unmistakable musk of arousal—filled the air, creating an intoxicating atmosphere that heightened every sensation.

As Spencer’s hands continued their journey, his lips followed, pressing soft, heated kisses to every inch of exposed skin. The feel of his mouth against your body was electric, each kiss a spark that ignited a fire deep within you. You could hear the quiet, appreciative noises he made as he explored, a low hum of approval that vibrated through you, making your skin tingle with fever.

His mouth found the sensitive spot at the base of your throat, and he lingered there, his tongue flicking out to taste your skin and his teeth scraping behind. The sensation was exquisite, and it sent a shiver down your spine. You moaned softly, your fingers threading through his hair, holding him close as he continued his ministrations.

His mouth continued its journey, trailing kisses down the length of your torso, his breath hot and humid against your skin. Each touch of his lips was a promise, a hint of the pleasures yet to come. You could feel the gentle scrape of his stubble against your skin, a delightful roughness that added to the sensory overload.

Spencer’s hands found their way to your thighs, his fingers curling around the soft flesh as he gently parted them, creating space for himself between your legs. The anticipation was almost unbearable, a sweet ache that thrummed through your veins as you waited for his next move.

He paused for a moment, his breath warm and heavy against your inner thigh as he looked up at you, his eyes dark with desire. The look in his eyes sent a jolt of electricity through your body, a silent communication of his intentions that left you breathless.

When he finally moved, it was with a purpose and a tenderness that took your breath away. His mouth found its mark, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to the most intimate part of you. The sensation was overwhelming, a rush of pleasure that left you gasping and trembling beneath him.

Spencer's tongue traced a path of fire, the wet heat of his mouth a stark contrast to the cool air around you. The feeling of his tongue against you was indescribable, a perfect blend of softness and pressure that had you writhing with need. You could hear the wet, rhythmic sounds of his movements, a deliciously sinful symphony that filled the room and drove you wild with desire.

The taste of you seemed to spur him on, his movements growing more insistent, more confident as he explored every inch of you. His hands gripped your thighs, holding you steady as he lavished attention on you, each stroke of his tongue sending waves of pleasure crashing through your body.

You could feel the tension building, a tight coil of desire that wound tighter and tighter with each passing second. Your breaths came in ragged gasps, your hands clutching at the sheets as you tried to hold on, your senses overwhelmed by the intensity of the sensations Spencer was creating.

And then, with a final, masterful stroke of his tongue, the coil snapped, sending you spiraling into a blinding wave of ecstasy. Your body arched off the bed, a cry of pure pleasure escaping your lips as you surrendered to the intense release. Every nerve ending seemed to ignite, the pleasure radiating out from your core in waves that left you trembling and gasping for breath.

Spencer didn't stop, his movements gentling but never ceasing as he guided you through the aftershocks, drawing out every last bit of pleasure until you were spent and boneless beneath him. The room was filled with the sound of your ragged breaths, the quiet hum of the city outside, and the beating of your heart.

As the world slowly came back into focus, you felt Spencer's weight shift, his body sliding up to join you on the bed. He gathered you into his arms, his touch gentle and soothing as he held you close. You could feel the rapid beat of his heart against your cheek, the warmth of his skin a comforting presence that grounded you.

You turned your head to meet his gaze, a satisfied smile playing on your lips. "I may have misread you…" you murmured, your voice still breathless from the intensity of the experience.

Spencer looked at you, curiosity flickering in his eyes as he tried to read your expression. "How so?" he asked, his voice a low rumble that sent another wave of heat through you.

“I thought you were some nerdy dork who wouldn’t know what to do,” you confessed with a teasing grin, your fingers tracing idle patterns on his chest. “You proved me so wrong.”

Spencer chuckled softly, the sound rich and warm like honey, his eyes filled with a mix of pride and affection. "I'm glad you enjoyed it," he replied, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. The touch was tender and sweet, a stark contrast to the intense passion you'd just shared.

As the warmth of his kiss lingered on your skin, a flicker of awareness crept into your mind, reminding you of the vulnerability of your current position. Spencer was undeniably pretty, fun, and, as you had just discovered, incredibly talented with his mouth. But letting him get too close, emotionally, was a different matter—a potential disaster waiting to happen.

You felt a pang of uncertainty, a reminder that you'd let yourself get carried away in the heat of everything today. The thought of letting him see more of you, of exposing the parts of yourself you kept hidden, was both thrilling and terrifying.

Gently, you scooted away, creating a small space between you on the bed. Spencer watched you with a slight frown, his brow furrowing in concern as he noticed the shift in your demeanor.

“Hey,” he said softly, reaching out to touch your arm. “Are you okay?”

You nodded, giving him a reassuring smile. “Yeah, I’m good. Just… taking a breather.”

He nodded, understanding but still curious. The moment hung between you, a delicate balance of intimacy and distance that you both navigated carefully.

Wanting to redirect the focus and return the favor, you shifted onto your knees, your movements deliberate and confident. Spencer’s eyes widened slightly as he watched you, questioning flickering in his gaze.

You leaned forward, letting your hands glide over the planes of his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips. The sensation was intoxicating, each touch sending a spark of desire through your body as you explored the contours of his torso.

“Now, Doctor,” you said, your voice low and teasing, “I think it’s my turn to show you what I can do.”

Spencer’s breath hitched, his eyes darkening with desire as he watched you with rapt attention. “I’m not going to stop you,” he replied, a playful edge to his voice as he leaned back, propping himself up on his elbows to give you full access.

You grinned, pleased by his response as you moved lower, your hands trailing down the length of his body. The texture of his skin was smooth and warm under your touch, each muscle firm and defined as you explored every inch with a deliberate slowness that made his breath catch.

The room was filled with the quiet rustle of sheets, the soft sounds of your movements as you shifted to straddle his legs, your body settling comfortably between his thighs. The anticipation in the air was palpable, a charged energy that seemed to crackle with each passing second.

You leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to his stomach, feeling the way his muscles tensed beneath your lips. The sensation was exhilarating, a rush of power and intimacy that left you wanting more.

Spencer let out a quiet groan, his head falling back against the pillows as he surrendered to the sensations you were creating. The sound sent a thrill through you, a confirmation of the effect you had on him, and it spurred you on, encouraging you to continue your exploration.

You let your hands wander lower, tracing the line of his waistband before slipping beneath the fabric, feeling the heat of his skin beneath your fingers. Spencer’s breath hitched again, a soft, needy sound that made your heart race.

“You okay?” you asked, your voice a teasing whisper as you glanced up at him, enjoying the way his eyes were half-lidded with desire, his lips parted in want.

Spencer nodded, his voice a breathless murmur. “Mhm.”

You smiled, your heart skipping a beat at the sight of him so open and vulnerable beneath you. It was a heady feeling, one that made you want to give him everything you had, to explore every inch of him and discover all the ways you could make him come undone.

With a gentle touch, you eased his pants lower, revealing more of the skin you so desperately wanted to explore. The cool air kissed his skin, sending a shiver through him as you continued your ministrations, your hands and lips moving with a purposeful intent that left him gasping.

The texture of his skin under your fingers was smooth and warm, a contrast to the slightly rough fabric of his pants as they slid down his legs. You could feel the faint, steady beat of his pulse beneath your fingertips. The cool air seemed to heighten every sensation, sharpening the feeling of your touch against his bare skin.

As you explored lower, you could hear the soft, almost involuntary sounds Spencer made in response to your touch—a quiet gasp, a low moan, the sharp intake of breath when you grazed a particularly sensitive spot. Each sound proving the effect you were having on him, encouraging you to continue your exploration with renewed confidence.

You leaned in, your lips brushing over the expanse of skin just above his waistband, savoring the slightly salty taste of him. The feel of your mouth against his skin drew another low groan from Spencer, a needy sound that reverberated through your body and filled the room.

The slight roughness of his sparse hair beneath your lips was a contrast to the smooth skin of his abdomen, and you reveled in the differences, your fingers dancing over every inch as you memorized the planes and angles of his body. The heat radiating from him was intoxicating, drawing you closer, urging you to explore further.

With every touch and kiss, you could feel the tension coiling tighter within him, a palpable energy that seemed to thrumming in the air around you. His muscles tensed under your hands, responding to your every movement with a sensitivity that only served to heighten your own arousal.

His hips shifted slightly, an involuntary movement that brought him closer to you, seeking more of the sensations you were creating. The friction of your touch against him was a delicious torment, each caress, each brush of your lips a promise of the release he so desperately craved.

You continued down, your mouth trailing lower with a deliberate slowness that was as much for your pleasure as it was for his. The taste of his skin lingered on your lips, a reminder of the connection you shared, the chemistry that burned brightly between you.

Spencer’s hands found their way to your hair, his fingers tangling in the strands as he guided you closer to his bulge that you had been neglecting, his touch both gentle and insistent. The slight tug at your scalp sent a shiver through you, a thrill of eagerness that urged you to continue your exploration with even more fervor.

Your lips traveled lower, past where he wanted you, tracing a path along the sensitive skin of his inner thigh with your lips and tongue, where you could feel the taut muscle beneath. The sensation of his skin against your lips, the warmth of his body, the subtle tremor that ran through him as you pressed a lingering kiss to his hip—all of it combined to create a heady mix of sensations that left you breathless.

The soft rustle of the sheets beneath you was the only sound in the room aside from the quiet, rhythmic hum of Spencer’s breathing and the occasional low moan that slipped past his lips. You could feel the way his body responded to your touch with an eagerness that mirrored your own. It was a dance of give and take, a perfect harmony of movements and sensations that left you both on the edge of control.

Spencer’s hands tightened in your hair, a gentle reminder of his presence, his need, and you responded by drawing him deeper into the sensations, your touch sure and steady as you worked to bring him closer to the edge. 

Finally, putting the poor man out of his misery, you hooked your fingers in his waistband and pulled his briefs down. Exposing him to the cool air, causing him to shiver. Then, because you’re not a monster, you licked a slow stripe up the side of his red, hard cock, causing a very loud groan to fall from between Spencer's lips.

The moment stretched out, filled with a tension that was both electric and tangible. The room was filled with the soft sounds of your shared breaths, a quiet rhythm that underscored the intense moment.

Your fingers brushed against his skin, tracing a delicate path along the line of his hip bone. You could feel the subtle tremor that ran through him. The warmth of his skin was intoxicating, drawing you closer, urging you to continue your exploration with a sense of urgency that bordered on desperate.

Spencer’s body was a study in contrasts—the hard lines of muscle beneath the softness of skin, the way he shivered under your touch even as he leaned into it, seeking more of the sensations you were creating. 

The cool air caressed his exposed skin, a sharp contrast to the warmth of your touch. You watched as goosebumps erupted along his flesh, a physical manifestation of his heightened arousal. The sight sent a thrill of satisfaction through you, a reminder of the power you held in this moment.

You leaned in, your breath warm against his cock as you placed a soft, lingering kiss along the tip. The taste of him was addictive, a heady mix of salt and musk that left you wanting more. The feeling of his skin beneath your lips was electric, sending shivers of excitement through your body.

Spencer let out a quiet groan, a low, primal sound that reverberated through the room and sent a jolt of pleasure straight to your core. His hands found their way, deeper somehow, in your hair, his grip firm and steady as he urged you closer, his need evident in the way he moved you.

His cock twitched in response to your touch, the sensation was dizzying, a heady mix of power and vulnerability that left you breathless. You allowed your fingers to explore further, tracing a slow, deliberate path along the length of his shaft. The texture was smooth and warm, a perfect contrast to the cool air that surrounded you. You could feel the faint tremor in his muscles, a testament to his struggle to maintain control in the face of such intense sensation.

“Please, please do something,” Spencer nearly whined, his voice tinged with desperation as he watched you with wide eyes, his body trembling with need.

As you finally leaned in, allowing your mouth to join the dance of sensation and touch, you heard Spencer’s breath hitch in his throat, a quiet sound of desire that filled the room. The taste of him on your tongue was intoxicating, a rich, heady mix of salt and musk that left you craving more.

The moment your lips made contact, Spencer released a shuddering exhale, his body responding to the heat of your mouth with a visceral intensity that took your breath away. His hips shifted involuntarily, each movement sending ripples of sensation through your body as well.

The sound of your mouth against his skin was almost hypnotic, a rhythmic whisper that echoed through the room, mingling with Spencer's soft moans and the quiet rustle of the sheets beneath him. You felt the gentle rise and fall of his abdomen as he tried to steady his breathing, the quiet hitch in his breath every time you shifted, adjusted your grip, or took him deeper.

His taste lingered on your tongue as you bobbed your head along his shaft. The feeling of his smooth, taught skin between your lips only caused the mess between your thighs to grow. You were soaking wet at the sight of the man who so confidently took you apart, writhing at the feeling of your mouth on him. 

Spencer's hands found their way to your hair, his fingers tangling in the strands as he tried to hold onto the last ounce of his control. His touch was gentle but insistent, a silent plea for you to continue, to explore every inch of him until he was lost in the overwhelming pleasure that you were so skillfully creating.

As you continued your ministrations, you couldn't help but revel in the power you held over him, the way you could make his body respond to your every touch, your every movement. It was intoxicating, the thrill of being the one to unravel him, to bring him to the edge and watch as he teetered there, a breathless, trembling mess beneath you.

The quiet, involuntary sounds that slipped past his lips were music to your ears, a symphony of pleasure and need that urged you on, pushing you to explore further, to discover every hidden reaction, every secret spot that made him gasp and moan.

Spencer's breathing grew more ragged, his chest heaving with each breath as you brought him closer and closer to the edge. You could feel the tension coiling tighter within him, a living thing that pulsed and throbbed in your mouth, begging for release.

With each pass of your mouth, each flick of your tongue, you felt him draw nearer to the brink, the pleasure building to a fever pitch that left you both trembling with need. You pulled up to his tip, sucking harshly and greedily taking down the precum you were rewarded. 

“Fuck, fuck, Y/N. You have to pull off, I’m gonna—”

Finally, as you felt him begin to unravel beneath you, his grip on your hair tightening, you knew he was on the verge of release. The realization sent a thrill of satisfaction through you, a sense of accomplishment at having brought him to this point, this state of utter abandon.

But, you pulled off, just as he asked.

His eyes fluttered open, glazed with desire, and a mixture of relief and frustration washed over his features. The air between you was charged with electricity, thick as you gazed up at him, watching the rapid rise and fall of his chest as he tried to catch his breath.

“Thank you,” he breathed, his voice a low, rough whisper filled with gratitude and a hint of desperation. His hands remained in your hair, holding you there as if afraid you might disappear, the heat of his skin still pulsing beneath your touch.

You sat back on your heels, his hands falling, a playful smile tugging at your lips as you surveyed the man before you. Spencer lay sprawled across the bed, a beautiful mess of tousled hair, flushed skin, and a very hard cock leaning on his tummy.

“Didn’t want to spoil the fun too soon?” you teased, your voice sultry and full of promise.

Spencer let out a breathless laugh, his eyes sparkling with amusement and unabashed desire. “I didn’t expect you to be so... good at this,” he admitted, his voice still tinged with awe as he watched you with a newfound appreciation.

“Surprised?” you asked, raising an eyebrow as you reached out to trail your fingers lazily along his thigh, feeling the residual tremor of his muscles beneath your touch.

“Pleasantly,” he replied, his voice rich with honesty as he met your gaze, a slow smile spreading across his lips.

“Well, the night’s not over yet,” you said, your tone full of suggestion as you shifted your position, moving with a deliberate slowness that kept Spencer’s gaze locked onto you. The dim lighting cast a warm, intimate glow over your skin, highlighting every curve and angle as you made your intentions clear.

Spencer watched you, his eyes darkening as he realized what you were doing. You were presenting yourself to him, offering yourself. The realization sent a fresh wave of heat through his already overwrought senses.

Your movements were slow and deliberate, a sensual dance that had Spencer transfixed, his breath catching in his throat as he watched you. You turned slightly, your back arching gracefully, presenting your body to him in a way that left no doubt about what you wanted. The smoothness of your skin and the glistening of your core caught the light, every curve accentuated by the shadows, and Spencer couldn't help but let his gaze travel over you, taking in every detail, every nuance.

“You like what you see, Doctor?” you teased with a shake of your hips, your voice a sultry purr that sent a shiver down Spencer’s spine. 

His response was a low, almost guttural sound that spoke volumes, a wordless expression of the desire that burned so brightly within him. He shifted slightly, his body tense as his hands reached out as if drawn to you by an invisible force.

“I like it very much,” he murmured, his voice a husky blend of awe and hunger as he drank in the sight of you. The way you held yourself, the confidence in your gaze, the promise of what was to come—it was all intoxicating, drawing him in and leaving him utterly captivated.

Spencer moved closer, the soft rustle of the sheets beneath him a quiet accompaniment to the sounds and sensations of desire that filled the room. Your skin was warm under Spencer’s touch as his hands found their way to your hips, his fingers trailing lightly over your skin, exploring every inch with a deliberate slowness that left you both breathless.

The feeling of his hands on you was electric, a perfect blend of tenderness and urgency that made your heart race and your senses sing. Every touch, every caress, sent shivers of pleasure racing through your body, leaving you aching for more, your skin hypersensitive to every nuance of his touch.

Spencer’s hands traveled with a gentle insistence, mapping the contours of your body with a touch that was both reverent and possessive. You could feel the subtle tremor in his fingers, the heat of his palms as they pressed against your ass.

His breath was warm against your ear, his voice a low murmur as he whispered, “You’re so sexy.” The words sent a thrill through you, a spark that ignited a fire in your belly and left you yearning for more of his touch, more of the sensations that seemed to flood your senses with every passing moment.

You turned your head slightly, your lips finding his in a kiss that was equal parts tenderness and demand. The taste of him was intoxicating, a heady mix of warmth and spice that made your heart race and your senses reel.

Spencer pulled away, and you felt the bed shift as he repositioned himself behind you. The room was filled with a quiet hum of anticipation, the air thick with the charged tension between you. You could feel his gaze on you, a tangible heat that seemed to sear into your skin.

“You’re sure?” he asked, his voice a low, rumbling purr that sent a shiver down your spine. There was an earnestness in his question, a genuine desire to ensure that you were comfortable and ready.

“Positive, Doctor,” you replied, the words laced with playful confidence as you glanced over your shoulder to meet his gaze. The term of endearment had become a safeguard to you, not wanting to get too used to saying his name.

Spencer’s eyes lit up with enthusiasm and relief, a small, appreciative smile tugging at his lips. “Do you have a condom?” he asked, his tone laced with a hint of embarrassment as he admitted his unpreparedness.

“You don’t?” you teased, raising an eyebrow in mock disbelief. It was a playful jab, meant to lighten the mood and add a touch of humor to the charged atmosphere.

“I didn’t expect this to happen…” Spencer admitted, his cheeks flushing a deep shade of crimson as he chuckled awkwardly. 

“That’s really sweet, actually,” you replied, your voice softening as you took in the sight of him. The sincerity in his words made your heart skip a beat, a reminder of why you had been drawn to him in the first place. “Yes, I do,” you confirmed, a mischievous grin spreading across your face. “Let me up real quick.”

Spencer playfully groaned, a sound filled with exaggerated reluctance as he shifted to give you space. But before you could move, he leaned down, leaving a small, teasing bite on your asscheek—a cheeky gesture that sent a spark of pleasure through you.

“Down, boy!” you teased, your voice a mock admonishment as you slipped out of his grasp, your feet finding the floor with a soft thud. You cast a playful glance back at him, enjoying the sight of him sprawled on the bed, watching you while he pulled on his own cock.

As you turned back to the bed, condom in hand, you found Spencer watching you with an intensity that made your heart race. The way he looked at you—like you were the only thing in the world that mattered—was both thrilling and humbling.

“Got it,” you announced, your voice a playful sing-song as you waved the packet in the air. Spencer’s eyes lit up with amusement, a soft chuckle escaping his lips as he watched you return to the bed.

You climbed back onto the mattress, feeling the familiar give of the sheets beneath your knees as you settled in beside him. The warmth of his body was a comforting presence, a stark contrast to the cool air of the room that brushed against your skin.

Spencer reached for you, his touch gentle and insistent as he guided you back into position. His hands were warm against your skin, the chemistry seemed to crackle between you.

Spencer tore open the foil packet, the soft crinkle of the wrapper a prelude to the main event. You could smell the faint scent of latex from the condom, mingling with the lingering aroma of his cologne—a spicy, woodsy scent that was undeniably masculine and entirely Spencer.

Spencer moved with a practiced ease, his fingers deft and sure as he prepared himself, rolling the condom down with a kind of confident precision that spoke of experience. The sight of him handling himself with such ease sent a thrill racing through you, your breath catching at the implication. It was a heady rush of desire that made your heart race and your skin flush with heat.

As he finished, Spencer's eyes locked onto yours, a smoldering intensity burning within them that made your pulse quicken. The weight of his gaze was almost tangible, a touch that was as intimate as any caress. You could feel the desire radiating off of him.

“Are you ready?” he asked, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down your spine. His tone was full of promise, a dark velvet sound that wrapped around you like a warm embrace, holding you captive in its depths.

“Yes,” you breathed, the word barely a whisper as it slipped from your lips, heavy with need. Your body ached for his touch, every fiber of your being attuned to the promise of pleasure that awaited you.

Spencer leaned forward, his hands finding your hips with a surety that left you breathless. His touch was firm and possessive, a silent promise of the pleasure he intended to deliver. You could feel the warmth of his skin against yours, a delicious contrast to the cool air that still lingered around you.

His lips brushed against your ear, a featherlight touch that sent a thrill racing through you, leaving goosebumps in its wake. “I bet you feel as good as you taste,” he murmured, his voice low and rough with desire. The confession was both intimate and incendiary, stoking the flames of your arousal until you were burning for him.

“Shit,” you whispered back, a high pitched sound that left your lips before you could think better of it. Spencer responded with a quiet, breathy chuckle that sent a shiver down your spine. His hands tightened on your hips, the pressure of his fingers was grounding.

He positioned himself at your entrance, the sensation sending a jolt through your body. The tip of him brushed against your core, a featherlight touch that made your breath catch and your heart race. 

Slowly, carefully, he began to push forward, the pressure building with each inch as he entered you. The feeling was exquisite, a slow, delicious burn that stretched you around him, filling you completely. The friction was intoxicating, a perfect balance of pleasure and pressure that had you gasping for breath.

Spencer let out a low, shuddering moan as he sank into you, his fingers digging into your hips with a possessive urgency that left you breathless. The sound was raw and primal, a testament to the pleasure that coursed through him, mirrored in the sensations that raced through your own body.

The room was filled with the sounds of your shared breaths, a quiet combination of gasps and moans that mingled with the rustle of the sheets beneath you. The air was thick with the scent of sweat and desire, a heady mix making you hyper aware of every touch, every sensation.

As he began to move, Spencer set a steady, deliberate pace that left you reeling with sensation. Each thrust was a measured blend of power and precision, a rhythm that built slowly, methodically, until it had you teetering on the edge of control.

“You feel so fucking good,” Spencer breathed, his voice a low, gravelly growl that sent a thrill racing through you. 

“So big,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper as you struggled to find words in the midst of the overwhelming sensations that flooded your senses. The feel of him moving inside you, the way he filled you completely, was a pleasure that bordered on overwhelming, leaving you breathless and aching for more.

Spencer’s hands moved with a purpose, tracing the curves of your body as he drove you higher, his touch both grounding and incendiary. You could feel the heat of his skin against yours, the way his muscles flexed with each movement, feeling the strength and control he wielded.

His lips found your neck, trailing a line of heated kisses along the sensitive skin that sent shivers down your spine. The feel of his mouth against your skin was electric, a tantalizing mix of heat and teeth that left you gasping for breath, your body arching into his touch.

The sensation of his body moving against yours, the delicious friction as he drove deeper, harder, was a pleasure that threatened to unravel you completely. Each thrust sent waves of ecstasy radiating through you.

“Spencer,” you gasped, the word slipping past your lips as a breathless plea, a desperate cry for more.

His response was immediate, his pace quickening as he drove into you, each movement a perfect blend of power and precision that left you on the brink of release. His hands tightened on your hips, his grip firm and possessive as he pulled you back to meet each of his thrusts. The sensation was overwhelming, a delicious friction that sent shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body.

You could feel the strength in his fingers, the way they dug into your flesh with each powerful motion, grounding you even as you felt yourself being pushed closer and closer to the edge. The heat of his hands against your skin was a stark contrast to the cool air of the room, adding another layer of sensation to the already heady mix.

The sounds of your bodies moving together filled the room, a symphony of wet, rhythmic slaps and breathless gasps that only heightened your arousal. Each thrust sent a new wave of pleasure rippling through you, building in intensity with every movement until you were teetering on the edge of control.

Spencer’s breath was hot against your ear, each exhale a ragged sigh that sent shivers down your spine. “How are you still so tight?” he groaned, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that resonated through your entire body. The words were a potent mix of praise and desire, pushing you even closer to the brink.

Your own breath came in short, ragged gasps, each inhale a struggle as you fought to hold on to your control. “Spencer,” you moaned, your body aching for release.

His response was a deep, primal growl that vibrated through his chest and into your back, his hips snapping forward with a renewed intensity that left you breathless. His hands guided your movements, pulling you back to meet each thrust with a force that sent shockwaves of pleasure through your entire body.

The pressure within you built to a fever pitch, a tight coil that wound tighter and tighter with each powerful thrust. Your senses were overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of the sensations, the feel of him driving into you, the sound of his voice in your ear, the taste of salt on your lips as you bit down, trying to hold on just a little longer.

“Fuck, Y/N,” Spencer groaned, his voice a rough, desperate sound that sent a thrill racing through you. “I’m so close.”

The admission was your undoing. The coil within you snapped, sending a wave of blinding ecstasy crashing over you. Your body tensed, every muscle tightening as you cried out, the sound raw and unrestrained as you surrendered to the overwhelming pleasure.

Spencer continued to move, driving you through the waves of your release with a steady, relentless rhythm that left you trembling and gasping for breath. The feeling of him moving inside you, filling you completely, was a pleasure that bordered on overwhelming, each thrust sending new ripples of sensation through your already oversensitive body.

As the aftershocks of your orgasm faded, Spencer’s pace grew more erratic, his breath coming in short, desperate gasps. You could feel the strain in his muscles, the way his fingers dug into your hips with a new urgency.

“Spencer,” you whispered, your voice a soft, breathless plea as you turned your head to catch his gaze. The look in his eyes was a perfect reflection of the intensity you felt, raw desire and desperate need that sent another wave of heat through you.

With a final, powerful thrust, Spencer buried himself deep inside you, his body tensing as he reached his own release. The sound of his pleasure—a low, guttural groan—sent a shiver of satisfaction through you.

The room was filled with the quiet sounds of your mingled breaths, a soft, rhythmic counterpoint to the fading echoes of your shared passion. Spencer’s grip on your hips softened, his touch becoming a gentle caress as he leaned forward, pressing a tender kiss to the nape of your neck.

“You’re amazing,” he whispered, his voice a soft, reverent murmur that sent a final shiver of pleasure through you. 

You turned your head to meet his gaze, a satisfied smile playing on your lips as you caught your breath. “So are you, Doctor.”

Spencer chuckled softly, his eyes sparkling with affection and lingering desire as he gently helped you shift to a more comfortable position. The warmth of his body against yours was soothing, a perfect counterpoint to the lingering heat of your shared passion. You nestled into his embrace, feeling a sense of peace and contentment settle over you as you allowed yourself to relax in his arms.

The steady rhythm of his breathing, the comforting weight of his presence, lulled you into a state of drowsy contentment. You felt safe and secure in his arms, the events of the night playing through your mind in a haze of satisfaction and warmth.

Slowly, the pull of sleep became too strong to resist, and you allowed yourself to drift off, cocooned in the comforting embrace of the man who had brought you such intense pleasure. The last thing you remembered before slipping into the depths of slumber was the gentle press of Spencer's lips against your forehead, a tender kiss that spoke volumes.

—

Morning came all too soon, the soft light of dawn filtering through the curtains and casting a gentle glow over the room. You woke slowly, the memories of the night before still vivid in your mind as you lay in the warmth of Spencer's embrace. For a moment, you allowed yourself to savor the feeling, the sense of belonging that came from being wrapped in his arms.

But reality soon intruded, and you knew that you couldn't stay. With a quiet sigh, you carefully extricated yourself from his embrace, moving with practiced ease to avoid waking him. Spencer's face was peaceful in sleep, a small smile playing on his lips that made your heart ache with affection and regret.

You knew he’d be confused when he woke up in your apartment alone. The realization that you had made a mistake by bringing him here weighed heavily on you. You quickly dressed, the rustle of your clothes sounding loud in the otherwise silent room. Every movement felt like a betrayal, a departure from the intimacy you had shared just hours before.

Grabbing a sticky note pad and a pen from your desk, your mind raced as you tried to think of what to write. The pen felt heavy in your hand, the blank surface of the note a stark reminder of the conversation you couldn't have face to face.

Spencer, you wrote, your handwriting shaky and rushed, Thank you for last night. There’s a key under the mat, please lock the door on your way out. Take care.

You placed the note where he would see it, the yellow square stark against the dark wood of your dresser. You stood there for a moment, taking in the sight of him one last time, memorizing the peaceful curve of his lips, the way his hair fell across his forehead.

With a heavy heart, you turned and quietly left the room. You headed for a friend's house, your thoughts a tangled mess of emotions. You needed to stay busy, to distract yourself until you were sure Spencer had left your apartment. As you knocked on the door, you resolved to cherish the memory of the night you had shared with Spencer, even as you moved forward with your life.

—

It had been a month since Spencer's encounter with you. At first, he was extremely confused and hurt, thinking there was a real spark between the two of you. Upon leaving your apartment that morning, he realized he never got your last name or your phone number. He didn't even know your address properly. Technically, he could figure it out quite easily, but he knew if you wanted him to talk to you again, you would have stayed.

For about two weeks, he thought about you every day and night, replaying the moments you shared and trying to understand what went wrong. Initially, he was sad, then worried something might have happened, and finally, he became livid at the thought that you might have used him. But now, it had been a month, and he had resigned himself to forget you and move on with his life.

Back to regular life, Spencer walked into the bullpen, immediately sensing something unusual. Everyone was not-so-subtly glancing toward Hotch’s office, their expressions twisted with curiosity and surprise.

“What’s going on?” he asked, his curiosity piqued.

“There’s a woman in Hotch’s office,” Emily replied, her eyes flicking toward the closed door.

“Okay?” Spencer prompted, waiting for more context.

“She knew my name, man,” Derek added, sounding both impressed and slightly confused.

“Uh oh, did you forget one of your many lovers?” Spencer joked, trying to lighten the mood.

“Not cool, kid. I’d remember a pretty face like hers,” Derek said, shaking his head.

“How else would she know you?” Emily asked, her curiosity mirroring Spencer’s.

Just then, the door to Hotch’s office opened, and you stepped out, accompanied by Aaron. “Guys, this is Agent Y/N Y/L,” Hotch said, introducing you to the team. “She will be joining us while JJ is on maternity leave.”

Spencer’s heart stopped as he saw you. He felt all the blood drain from his face, a wave of nausea threatening to overwhelm him. There you were, the woman who had loved him and then left him without a trace, now standing in front of him in the bullpen.

You seemed calm and composed, completely unaware of the storm raging inside Spencer. You gave a polite smile and nodded at the team, your eyes briefly locking with Spencer’s before moving on, not recognizing him immediately, or not caring.

“Nice to meet you all,” you said, your voice steady and professional. “I’m looking forward to working with you.”

The rest of the team greeted you warmly, exchanging pleasantries, while Spencer remained rooted to his spot, his mind racing. Finally, your eyes fell on him and really looked.

“Hi, Doctor,” you said calmly, your voice steady and composed.

“Y/N,” he replied, his tone clipped and strained.

“Hold up, do you two know each other?” Derek asked, his curiosity piqued.

“I remember you!” Penelope cut in, her eyes lighting up with recognition. “You were at the Doctor Who convention! Madame de Pompadour! You looked beautiful.”

“Thank you!” you responded with a warm smile. “I don’t recall meeting you, I’m so sorry.”

“Oh, we didn’t meet, sweetie,” Penelope giggled kindly. “I saw you talking to Reid here.”

“Ah,” you said, a hint of realization dawning in your eyes as you glanced back at Spencer.

The strain between you and Spencer was tangible, the air thick with unspoken words and unresolved emotions. Spencer’s mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, trying to process the fact that you were now standing in front of him, a part of his professional life.

“So, how do you two know each other?” Emily asked, her eyes darting between the two of you.

“We… met at the convention,” Spencer said, his voice strained as he struggled to keep his emotions in check.

“Yes, we did,” you confirmed, keeping your tone neutral. “It was a brief encounter.”

Spencer's jaw tightened at your choice of words, the hurt and confusion from a month ago resurfacing with a vengeance. He knew he had to keep it together, at least for now, but the unresolved feelings were making it difficult.

“Small world, huh?” Derek said with a chuckle, oblivious to the undercurrents of tension.

“Indeed,” you replied, your eyes flicking back to Spencer. “I’m looking forward to working with all of you.”

Spencer nodded stiffly, his mind still racing with questions and emotions. He knew he needed to talk to you, to get some answers, but now wasn’t the time. He would have to wait for a more private moment to confront you about what had happened.

For now, he had to focus on the task at hand, pushing aside his personal turmoil to maintain his professionalism. But as he watched you interact with the rest of the team, he couldn’t shake the feeling that this was far from over.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

tag list <333 @spencerreidsreads @sapph1re @idefktbh17 @dirtytissuebox @yokaimoon @reggieswriter @loumouse @mentallyunwellsposts @time-himself @chaneladdicted @kathrynlakestone @furrybouquettrash @hearts4spensco @gilwm @khxna

[dilfhos]

THE FAN.

#!WHO GOJO SATORU & GETOU SUGURU

#!CC: threesome, reluctance if ya squint, o.sex (G&R), riding & backshots, eiffel tower, rockstar/band au, GOJO plays with your ass

wc.5.6k | KINKTOBER ‘23 | if u can, plz reblog. im trying to get more traction frankly and would love my fics to reach a wide audience fr. as always, minors plz don’t interact w/me.

NETWORKS @angelshub @bitchcraftinc @planetonet

@scariusaquarius tysm for beta-ing, your soundboard and squeals of excitement mean a whole lot sugar hehe ♡

Are you a fan of the band EYES OF DEATH? Well they’re in town for Halloween! Ten songs! One night with Hunk Gojo as lead singer and the illustrious Suguru playing lead bass. Come down to the Shadowvale Coliseum to see them in action, you may be lucky to win backstage access!

“After all, you’re our biggest fan, yeah?” Suguru asked, a smile on his face as his palm tapped your cheek affectionately.

The sound of screaming coming from (mostly) women caused a ringing in your ears. But it wasn’t much of an inconvenience because you were screaming right along with them. Your eyes zeroed in on the lead, heart stammering at the fact that you were actually here, in person before your favorite band. Your favorite idol.

Gojo Satoru.

This time you didn’t have to gush over him in the new issue of Kaisen Times magazine, or smile when you see the million posters hanging up in the walls of your bedroom. He was literally feet from you as you were blessed to have stage side seats. He was definitely sexier up close. His messy white locks whipped with every nod of his head, as his slightly sweaty face was mostly framed by stray strands of silver.

You wish you could see his eyes but they were hidden by his signature frames which didn’t make you feel too bad. You watched as his hand came down hard to deliver one final riff. The crowd went wild as did you. He rocked back on his heels, a genuine wide smile gracing his features as he scanned his fans. When he turned in your direction, you could've sworn he was looking directly at you as his gaze seemed to remain on you for a few seconds longer. While you thought it was silly, a part of you hoped he was and your heart sped up at the thought.

His smile seemed to almost widen though as he then gripped the mic.

“How about another one? Why don’t you let me hear your lovely voices one more time?” He cupped a hand to his ear, nodding as the crowd, you included, began to scream again.

“That’s what I like to hear!” He turned back to his band mates, whispering to the one closest to him which you immediately recognized as Suguru. His dark and typically flowing locks were tied back into a messy bun, a few pieces slicking to the sides of his neck. He muttered something back to the other band mates and Gojo returned to the microphone, his mouth open in a wide smile,

“You ready?” He purred.

Everyone screamed yes! and as he counted off, the building was drowned once more in an electrifying riff of another one of his songs.

…

By the end of his concert, his shirt was drenched with sweat as he spent the rest of his energy jumping around on stage.

As he bid a goodbye to the crowd, you met his gaze. Or so you thought. You just knew he looked in your direction once more before whispering something to his bandmate, Suguru, who gave you a quick look over before disappearing behind the curtain.

You remained there, looking at the very spot he stood, wishing that he was still there. You clutched a rolled up paper to your chest, your grip tightening when someone bumped into you from behind.

It was silly but you had hoped you would’ve caught him before he left to sign it. Sure the image was a couple years old but it was your favorite and with his scribbled signature in the corner of it, you knew it’d finally be perfect.

But what you also knew was how wild his concerts ended. Groupies typically tried to sneak their way back only to be stopped by heightened security. You’ve heard rumors of some succeeding and bragging that Gojo and the band definitely made their nights.

With a sigh, you turned, watching the crowd slowly grow smaller as sweaty and exhausted bodies trickled out the exits. A headache was forming and even though you didn’t get your autograph, you were still content with seeing your favorite rock idol perform. But now, all you wanted to do was go home and sleep. Maybe encounter him in your dreams as you’d done in the past.

You were trudging along with the crowd when you heard a low, ‘psst’.

You wouldn’t have paid much attention to it if it had only happened once. But when it was heard again, this time a bit more persistent, you whipped your head around only to be met with nameless faces of the crowd.

But then you heard, “Here.”

Off to the side was a man in a black leather jacket with a cap on his head. You wanted to ignore him and keep following the crowd to the exits but something about his demeanor seemed familiar. You hesitantly broke away from the horde and ducked off to the side, accidentally tripping into his chest.

“Careful darlin’” You gasped softly at his voice, recognizing it to sound like…

The man pulled you further onto the side wing, and away from the crowd until reaching a corridor. He pulled his hat back, allowing raven locks to fall around his face.

“M-Mister Suguru?”

“Getou,”He glanced down at your arms crossed over your chest, holding something rolled. He glanced back up at your face which was lit up almost innocently at the fact that you were standing in front of a member of your favorite band. He smirked. How cute.

“Poster?” He asked, turning on his heels sharply. He didn’t give a warning or any explanation, he just began walking down the hallway, silently expecting you to follow. You stuttered before your feet moved, trying to catch up to his brisk pace.

“U-Uh yeah...I um…I wanted Gojo’s autograph.”

“And not mine?” He turned his head, a smile playing loosely at his lips. His gaze made you avert yours as your face swarmed with heat. You were mainly focused on the fact that you were actually inches from him, following him and talking to him. He wasn’t Gojo Satoru sure, but Getou Suguru was just as great a musician. And an even sexier man.

You passed by a few other band members and technician crew and a part of you felt a bit nervous.

“A-Are you sure I should be back here?” You asked him after a moment of silence. He only shoved his hands into his pocket without acknowledging your question as he continued to make his way down the darkening hallway. Something about this felt a bit off but you didn’t give into your trepidation. Instead you continued to trudge nervously behind him. Still, you placed your hand into your coat pocket to feel for your phone.

After another moment or so, he rounded a corner until stopping in front of the door at the end of the hall. From behind him, you could see the name, GOJO SATORU & EYES OF DEATH ☆ in bold, white script, centered in the middle of a large star. Your stomach flipped as you read his name over and over again. Was this actually real?

“You want to meet him right?” He could practically hear you nodding excitedly before sighing. A soft rap from a knuckles later and you heard Gojo’s voice from the other end asking who it was.

“Getou,” Was what he responded with before turning the door knob. He stepped back and gestured for you to enter, and you did so, your eyes remaining on your boot clad feet. After hearing the door shut behind you however, the sound sealing you into your fate, you looked up.

The first thing you noticed was the man sitting across the room, cross-legged on the floor. In his arms was a guitar, not the bass he rocked to during the concert. Slender fingers strummed against the strings, the notes melancholic and unfamiliar. The tune carried throughout the space accompanying the soft humming you heard from him.

Gojo glanced up only briefly, a smirk on his features as you nervously made your way further into the large dressing room. He let out a few more notes, this time save for his humming.

“Erm…” You glanced back toward Suguru. What were you supposed to do? Or say? Your mind ran a mile a minute contemplating what your next choice of words would be. You couldn’t believe that you were here standing in the very dressing room of your rock idol, the Gojo Satoru and you didn't want to screw up your first impression with something stupid.

You heard shuffling from in front of you and turned to see that he was standing. Placing the guitar against the wall, he then stretched, the position drawing up his t-shirt in the process. You couldn’t keep your eyes from falling to the distinctive toning of his waist and abdomen as they flashed before you. After you heard a chuckle, you looked away, hoping that he didn’t catch your staring.

“You a fan?” His voice was like velvet, soft and alluring and even more sexier than it was when he was singing on stage. A wide smile followed his question, drawing your attention to the dazzling rows of pearly whites. A few seconds later is when you collected yourself, eyes roaming back up to his that were hidden behind his shades.

“Y-Yeah,” You start carefully, heart strumming wildly in your chest.

“A-A big fan actually! I’ve been a fan for years and have come to every single concert.” Okay, so maybe you didn’t need to disclose that last part. Gojo only smiled warmly.

“Oh yeah? And what’s your favorite track?” He leaned down in front of the vanity, inspecting something on his face. You took a moment to mentally dig through what you knew of his discography. He had plenty of amazing songs, all of which touched you one way or another.

“I would have to say...Blindfolds,” He let out a surprised noise as he turned to look at you. He was quite surprised by your response. He felt that track wasn’t his best after it was published and honestly, paid no further worry about it.

He expected you to favorite one of his more popular tracks, one of which he always heard his fans request that he sing.

Under his scrutinizing gaze, you felt heat prickling at your skin.

“I-I just really like the way it speaks to me. And your use of the clever metaphors within the lyrics give it a much greater meaning than what it was meant to be. And even though it was made clear that the song was about everyone in a way, I couldn't help but wonder whether or not…” He cocked his head, hidden, blue eyes glinting as he nodded for you to go on.

“W-Whether or not if it was really about you.” Silence enveloped the space and every second you remained under it, nervousness crept in bit by bit. Perhaps you said too much. Here was one of the top rock stars standing in front of you, listening as you picked apart one of his songs.

“I-I’m sorry if I over-” He interrupted you with laughter. It wasn’t cruel or mocking, but genuine. And coming from him, it was music to your heated ears. He moved toward you, his sudden movement causing you to stagger back some.

“Look kid, I appreciate your dedication but I think you’re reading too much into it,” He gave a small friendly ruffle to the top of your head, and you bit back a squeal. He touched you.

“She’s real cute,” He remarked behind you, toward the other man, who you honestly forgot was even still here.

“I knew you’d think so. But how about we move things along? The manager has been calling my phone like crazy wondering where you’ve run off to this time.”

“Right,” He turned back towards you, a toothy grin present on his features. His eyes then ventured down to what you were still cradling in your arms.

“What’s this?” He pointed. You glanced down at the rolled poster, your face warming immediately.

“I had wanted an autograph,” You stuttered, voice barely audible.

“S‘at so?” You nodded. He held his hand out and you hesitantly placed it. You watched as he unrolled it and the way his brows shut up in surprise.

“Is something wrong?” You were quick to question, craning your neck to what he was seeing. Oh God, did you spill something on it? Did you accidentally grab the wrong poster from your wall? Like the one with old childish writing on it with, My husband! If that was the case then you weren’t sure what you’d-

“Just surprised is all. This was actually my favorite photoshoot. Guru, you remember that one?” He turned the poster around so his friend could see. Suguru chuckled at the sight, a part of him thinking that it was only his favorite because he ended up seducing the photographer. Gojo turned, moving back to his vanity. From the plethora of makeup brushes, his fingers closed around a dark sharpie. You couldn’t see what he was scribbling as you craned your neck, but it sounded like more than just his name. With a smile, he recapped the marker and held the poster out as if to admire his penmanship and rolled it back up.

He then held it out to you and right when you were about to grab it, he pulled it away.

“You know, you’re real cute,” He muttered, a finger reaching under your chin. “And you’re my biggest fan, you said?”

He was so close, so much that you could smell the subtleness of mint and beer. You were immediately drawn in, your eyes fluttering down to the sight of his kissable lips, which were parted slightly. He nudged your chin up to refocus your attention. What was the question again?

“Y-Yes?”

“You don’t sound so sure.” He teased.

“Yes, I’m your biggest fan.” You whisper. Sitting down your rolled poster, he took off his shades, revealing a pair of lustfully blown blue eyes. Brighter than any lake during sunrise. You could get lost in them forever and it was no longer a surprise why he wore his shades all the time.

You couldn’t tear your eyes away from his heavy gaze, which was just as well because before you could register anything, his lips were on yours, soft and tentative. It took you a second before you began to move your lips in sync with his.

He groaned against your mouth, deepening the exchange with a suggestive swipe of his tongue against your bottom lip. Parting your lips, his tongue shoved through, wild as it thrashed against your own.

Gojo explored your mouth, taking in the way you practically melted against him. He began to walk you backwards until your knees met the back of the couch. He pulled away to watch you stumble onto its surface, panting and flustered from the kiss.

He straightened to shrug out his coat before leaning back down to recapture your lips in another heated embrace. His hands trailed down your body, paying attention to where to press and grope that caused you to whimper. He loved the sound. The sweet, sweet gasps of women beneath his touch could top any riff he played.

Eventually, his lips moved away to press open mouth kisses to the side of your jaw and neck, every now and then sucking marks into your skin. His hand pushed under your shirt, dragging the garment oup in the process until he broke away to pull it off you.

“You’re so fucking hot babe,” He muttered, cerulean eyes trailed over your body, over the hot and bothered state you were in. Gojo’s hands smoothed over your neck, trailing down to your bra-covered breasts, until stopping at the hem of your skirt. You nodded before he shoved them up your waist, hips lifting up slightly for him push them up further until it was bunched around your tummy to reveal your cute panties. He looked down, grinning at the sight of the cotton material pressed snugly against your crotch.

“Cute,” He murmured. Instinctively, you tried closing your legs, bashful at his heavy gaze and comment but he shifted down until he was on his knees, in between them.

“No need to be shy,” His voice was so compelling; you slowly relaxed, your eyes never leaving his as Gojo’s fingers curled into the waistband of your panties. Your legs tightened against each other but with an almost warning glance cast upward from his eyes, they relaxed and he proceeded to slide them down with more ease.

“That’s it. So fucking beautiful…” He tugged them against your ankles, before they were placed on the small coffee table. He moved his eyes down to the sight in between your legs, inspecting the glisten coating your puffy lips.

Seconds later, you arched your back at the sensation of his hot tongue pressing flat against your slit, as he dragged the surface of it up and down in slow and deliberate movements. He kept a firm grip on your hips as he delved in deeper, maneuvering the appendage past your slick folds and into your hole, flicking and dipping between your plush walls. His fingers then replace his tongue, curling and stretching against your insides. His lips moved to your clit where he suckled and nipped gently, drawing out a unintentionally loud moan from you.

His fingers sped up, creating a wet squelch with every thrust into your cunt. Gasping, your fingers dug into the material of the couch as you found yourself getting lost in the pleasure he created.

Suguru, seeming to have come from nowhere, then moved beside you, gripping your chin to lift your head up in his direction. Despite your hesitance, he managed to press his lips against yours roughly. After a moment you began to give in, allowing his feverish tongue to slip past your lips and into your mouth, the exchange heated between lips and teeth. He grew harder in his pants to the feel of your lips and at the sound of his friend slurping away at your cunt.

A hand crept down to your clit, taking the place of Gojo’s fingers as he began to press tight circles against the area. Your hips bucked off of the couch and against Gojo’s face, smothering him against your pussy. He released a prolonged groan at the sight of the exchange happening between you and the two men.

Pulling away, the male licked away a trail of saliva from your lips before dipping a bit lower to lick and suck against your neck.

“Suguru,” You whimpered.

“Getou,” He corrected against your skin, trailing his lips down to your breasts. His calloused hands roughly kneaded each mound. His teeth teased at your nipples, grinding gently on the hardening buds before tugging softly to release with a soft pop. Just as he pulled away, a ringing sounded throughout the space.

“Dammit,” He muttered, bringing out his phone. Gojo pulled away from your pussy, his mouth soaked in your juices as he looked up at the brunette.

‘Manager’ He mouthed, moving towards the door.

“What? Yes…” The door shut behind him, leaving you and the lead singer alone in the dressing room.

He stood, pulling off his shirt, your eyes immediately dropping to his skin. You watched with rapt focus as he then plopped down a foot or so away from you.

“Come over here,” He instructed, throwing his arms across the back of the couch. You moved closer to him, your pussy clenching in need.

Slender fingers wrapped against the nape of your neck pulling you closer toward him. His lips smashed against yours, as he wasted no time in shoving his tongue past your lips. A moan was muffled from your mouth as his grip tightened in your hair to pull you closer, the taste of your essence melting on your tongue.

He pulled away to give another soft tug at your roots, urging your head up at an angle. His lips lowered to bite and suckle marks into your skin, partly in hope to cover his friend’s. When he pulled away, his eyelids were heavy over his lust filled eyes as they ran over your face and down your body.

“You’re still my biggest fan?” A few beats passed before you nodded, eliciting a soft smile to form on his face. He then moved to undo his belt, shoving his dark jeans down to reveal his dark boxers. Through the material, you could see that he was very much excited.

“Show me then.” He urged, shifting into a more lax position with his legs spread wide open.

You swallowed thickly before partially positioning yourself over his lap, level with the prominent bulge. Your eyes the subtle trail of white that lined his abdomen and disappeared into his boxers.

With shaky hands, you moved to curl your fingers around the rim of them and pulled them down enough for his thick cock to spring free, hard and long as it kissed his abdomen. You could then feel his hand pressed up against the back of your head, urging you down toward his dick.

“Good. Now open your mouth.” He cooed. You did so, closing your eyes at what was to come.

“Wider,” He muttered, heatedly. It took a bit of effort as you felt the warmth of his cock moving past your lips. Your head lowered until the heaviness of his cock pressed against your tongue.

“Yeah, like that.” He sighed, hips hitching against your mouth. His dick was thick on your tongue and you could taste more and more saltiness melting on your tastebuds.

“Fuck, your teeth babe...Watch your teeth.” He groaned, nails digging into your scalp. You sputtered around his shaft, sending spittles of drool to drip from the corners of your mouth. Your jaw ached from the stretch as he continued to urge your head down and up against his cock. In the midst of it all, you heard the soft creak of the door opening and closing.

“I see you’ve gotten started already,” Suguru’s low hum broke the sound of your unadulterated slurping. You opened your eyes to see the dark pair of shoes a few feet away, unmoving.

“The—fuck—The manager?” Gojo asked, almost breathlessly.

“I got’er off our backs for at least an hour. Told her you wanted to rest.”

“Good. That bitch needs to learn patience anyway,” You released an unintentional moan at his harsh words, finding them to be almost uncharacteristic for the male. Your eyes closed again as you tried to focus on the task at hand as Gojo’s eyes narrowed, staring down at the sight below.

He then connected his gaze with his friend before a wide grin stretched across his face.

“She’s real good. Damn, it feels amazing.” Stomach fluttering, you moved your mouth down lower, taking another inch as you sucked in your cheeks to provide more of a suction. The change in your movements took the male by surprise because he released a strangled groan, in the process, shoving you down further, making you gag and choke around his girth. Sweat beaded along Gojo’s skin as you continued to suck him off, white strands of his hair sticking against the sides of his face.

From behind you, the feeling of the couch sinking with more weight didn’t go unnoticed. Seconds later you felt a warm hand brushing against your ass, running soothing circles against the flesh.

Suguru’s hands moved to creep to your waist, pulling away at the waistband of your skirt which was bunched around the area. You were now completely bare before both men and couldn’t help the pathetic sounding whimper that arose at the notion.

“What a good little fan. You know, you’re really doin’ me a service,” Satoru chuckled. In his words, you felt a sudden surge of validation course through you. The way he spoke to you caused a fluttering in your tummy.

At the end of the day it seemed like you just wanted to please him, your idol. When he said things about how good you were making him feel, well it caused something else to stir within you, flourishing before you could have the time to force it back.

Suguru noticed the way your thighs clenched together but it was different this time. His fingers sought out your warmth and was happy to find you practically dripping.

“I think she’s loving it,” You heard him purr as he continued to run his digits along your slit. You didn’t deny it but you wished that you hadn’t looked up into Gojo’s eyes.

He groaned at the look you gave him through your lashes. As much as he wanted this moment to last longer, he knew he needed to pull away before he busted in your mouth. He needed to save himself for the main event and that was having you crying and cumming all over his cock as he fucked you. You felt a tug on your hair as you were pulled away.

“Stand up.” You rose shakily to your feet, watching as Gojo shoved his boxers away completely as Suguru was next to you, discarding his own clothing wordlessly. Gojo shifted back onto the couch, a knee pressed onto one of the cushions and his other foot planted firmly on the floor.

“Here.” Without further protest, you moved in front of him on your hands and knees, your pussy aching for attention. Which you knew he was happy to give as you felt the swollen head of his cock teasing against your folds. His breath fanned your ear from behind as he continued to slick his cock between your lips.

You’re so wet, providing his still glistening cock with enough lubrication to push through with little resistance. You groaned at the stretch, nails digging crescents into your palm. He inched his way in, slow and deliberate for every vein to drag pleasurably against your walls. His grip on your hips tightened once he was fully seated, his pelvis flush against your plush ass.

He took a moment to gather himself before pulling out partly and thrusting in once more, ripping out a strangled cry from your throat. Tears brimmed your outer vision as he then thrusted back in, harsh and more rougher than before. His knee buckled a bit in the act causing him to lean against you as he found his ground once more.

“Fuck!” He gritted as his cock throbbed within your tightness. After a few more experimental strokes, he found his rhythm, as ironic as it seemed for the guy. He continued to grunt as his pelvis continued to slam against your ass, his cock plunging deep into your pussy. Your head lolled forward, your noises becoming louder as pleasure surged through your body.

You then feel fingers entangling in your roots as your head was tilted upwards to meet the dark eyes of Suguru. He was mere inches from you, his hand fisting languidly at his cock. His thumb swiped the bead of arousal that accumulated at the slit and you couldn’t keep yourself from licking your lips at the bothered state he seemed to be in.

“Do me a favor,” Gojo huffed from behind. Without further instruction, your mouth opened and Suguru moved forward, his cock breaching your lips to rest heavy on your tongue. You tried to work it along the length of his shaft as you bobbed your head along but with the rate of Gojo’s thrusts against you, it was a bit difficult.

Suguru noticed this and adjusted his body so that he also had a knee braced against the cushion. His hands moved to the sides of your head, stilling you as his hips surged forward in shallow movements.

“That’s it darlin,” He said softly, his eyes rolling slightly. “Be a good little fan and take it nice and deep.”

After trying to keep up some more, you eventually stilled completely— slack jawed, tongue lolled out, allowing the male to use your mouth as he pleased. Drool seeped down in thick strands at the corners as he continued to thrust into your wet hole, inching himself deeper and deeper.

You suddenly gag at the feel of a hand striking against your ass. Gojo watched as you arched your back at the sting it brought, a dark grin gracing his features as you tightened around him.

“Fuck...You like that?” Another blow was delivered as another wanton moan escaped you. His hands gripped both your ass cheeks, spreading them apart for a much clearer view of his slickened cock disappearing into your needy cunt. He eyed your tight, winking hole above that and ran his thumb along the rim, taking in the way your body practically rippled in excitement from the unfamiliar stimulation.

“I think you may be my favorite, love,” He mumbled more to himself. But you caught it and felt a new sense of pride in his words. You strained your ears for the way he sucked in his breath at your clenching walls until he leant down, hard chest pressed flush against your back.

“You like that? Being called my favorite?” You tried to nod your head the best you could with your mouth full.

“How about I bring you back after all my shows. You’ll be our little stress reliever, my little plaything I can use as I want. Fuck, I can tell you’re...Mmm, keen to the idea,” His hands pressed against your ass, spreading them apart once more as he thrusted in deeper inside of you.

You choked, pulling away from Suguru’s cock, mewling and completely overwhelmed with nothing but lust.

“After all, you’re our biggest fan, yeah?” Suguru asked, a smile on his face as his palm tapped your cheek affectionately. At his purring words, you shuddered and tightened, lowering your head to release a choked cry. Your orgasm came sudden and intense, completely overtaking your senses as your legs felt like pudding.

Gojo chuckled breathlessly, taking note of how sensitive you were to his words. He paused briefly to let you ride out your release until he pulled out. Giving a nod to his friend, he gave your ass a final smack, watching your skin ripple upon contact.

Without giving much time to catch your breath, you felt fingers in your hair, pulling your head up until your eyes met those dark pair.

“Get up.” Suguru mumbled. You shakily rose to your feet, your legs buckling seconds after. Thankfully, Gojo caught you with a tight grip on your arm, and an amused smile stretching across his face.

Suguru settled back against the couch, his hand running along his slick cock. He gestured at you with a spin of his finger and you turned around before feeling his hands on your hips to pull you flush against his body.

He positioned your body above his lap, his hands supporting you with the grip on your hips as your feet were planted on either side of his thighs. You leaned back against his chest, shuddering at the feel of his cock teasing your pussy. He pressed his lips against your shoulders feverishly as you were then lowered.

You mewled as he breached your entrance, stretching you with his girth. Suguru groaned as he took a moment basking in the feel of your fluttering walls throbbing around him. You began to sink down onto him, with little guidance of his hands, your moans growing in pitch.

“How is she?”

“So...tight and hot,” Suguru groaned, nails digging into the meat of your thighs as his heated gaze met Gojo’s. He directed your attention to the space in front of you with his hand stroking his dick.

Knowing what he wanted without further instructions, you wiggled forward to take his cock into your hot mouth, immediately hollowing your cheeks tight. His fingers grasped at your sweaty roots, tightening when you bobbed your head lower until your nose was nearly touching his pelvic bone.

Behind you, Suguru was beginning to lose his composure, his hips snapping up hastily against your ass, driving his cock deeper into your pussy. You moaned aloud, the noise being muffled by the press of Gojo’s cock down your throat. You were drowning in your pleasure as you were being pushed closer and closer to unraveling.

“Such a good little fan…” You squeal at his words the same time Suguru delivers a deep thrust into your cunt. Your eyes clenched shut as that coil within you snapped, sending your body aflame with heat and pleasure. He growled at your fluttering cunt, his hips stuttering as he approached his own high. You were nudged off of him before you felt the heat of his cum splattering against your ass.

“A-Ah…Fuck!” At the sight of this, Gojo was at his own limit, his hands shaky as he held your head down against him, the entirety of his cock in your hot mouth. He gave a few shallow thrusts until he stilled and you felt the spurt of warmth hitting the back of your throat. He held you there a couple seconds later as he rode out his high, making you swallow his cum.

When he shakily pulled away, you coughed as whatever you didn’t go down, dripped onto your chin and chest. You were a mess, but honestly, Gojo couldn’t find anything more beautiful.

He brushed his thumb over your sweaty cheek before he straightened. You shifted until you were next to Suguru, who pulled you against his side. Gojo returned with your rolled poster in hand and two beers in the other.

“How ‘bout you stay for a bit longer hm? You can tell the manager we’ll be a while for the moment.” You took your poster and unrolled it, eyes zeroing on the bottom corner which, in his neat script read, To My Biggest Fan, GOJO ☆

Beneath it was a phone number and you felt your face warmed. Looking up, you saw that he was holding out the beer to you and you took it.

Suguru beside you had a hand running teasing against your slick thighs as Gojo couldn’t keep his eyes off you as more and more of your beer disappeared.

You were blissfully aware of your senses easing slightly as you started to come to the conclusion that this was the best concert you’d gone to.

@dilfhos. DO NOT PLAGIARIZE OR REUPLOAD MY CONTENT—CURRENT OR ARCHIVAL.

[karasukarei]

Wind Breaker Exhibition Kyoto - Full review with audio guides

I went for WinBre Ex two weeks ago! It was STUNNING and AMAZING 🤩 Here’s a rundown of what went down (with plenty of simping from yours truly)! I also bought the audio guide, so I’ll also be summarising the audio guide at the points where it’ll be played. The guide features the first year trio.

Disclaimer: Photos are allowed for most sections of the exhibition. As many of the exhibits are manga panels, I was more selective in the photos I've shown here, to focus more on interesting ways the panels were shown, or on exhIbition-exclusive displays. (moots, feel free to DM me if you want more photos!) Where there are no photos in my post, photography was not allowed. I did not take photos of every single exhibit on display, only the panels or art works that I found especially interesting (or those with Umemiya cos I'm his simp).

Entrance

You’ll be given a QR code to scan to get the audio guide when entering, if you bought it! There are 9 tracks in total. 

The bonuses you’ll get when entering are a random sticker (I got the omurice one with Sakura and Umemiya!!!) and a physical ticket. You can also purchase the ticket with a pass case and photo card, but I didn’t find it very cost-effective so I bought just the ticket ^^;

At the entrance there’s a huge poster of the key visual of the exhibition art, as well as the noticeboard at the entrance to Makochi!

Section 1: Character intros

The first section has cutouts of the first years! Manga panels of the first chapter and a few other general key visuals, such as art by Nii-sensei for the anime airing, are here too.

They also have Sakura’s real uniform on display!! The detail on the embroidery is sooo intricate.

Audio guide 1: The scene starts with Nirei dropping his notebook. Suo (if i remember correctly)picks it up and returns it to him, and Sakura tells Nirei to take better care of it. Nirei tells Sakura about how he wants to use the notebook to help Sakura reach the top, since Nirei himself can’t fight, and he hopes to help using the information on people inside it. They go through Sakura’s profile (stuff like his height, weight, likes and dislikes etc.). Suo tells Sakura that he’s really loved, and Sakura gets all blushy and tsun (SO CUTE).

Section 2: Meeting Boufuurin

This section is in the same area as the first, and starts with a photo spot!

They have two uniform jackets for you to try on for photos (Sakura’s and Sugi’s) and the size difference is real lmao. The one in front is Sakura’s, and it’s considerably shorter than Sugi’s. I also took some dumb photos here www (available on request by DM, moots only)

The rest of Boufuurin is introduced here too!! But um. As you can see I kind of. Only had eyes for one person. Oop.

Audio guide 2: The trio are discussing how their class is full of interesting people, and they give a quick profile of Tsugeura, Kiryuu, and Sugi. When Nirei says that standing next to Sakura and Suo gets him all excited, Suo mentions that Sakura is all red, and Sakura gets really flustered. Sakura demands Nirei to hand him the notebook so he can search for Suo’s weak point, but the only information he found is whatever was in Suo’s character profile (specifically his love for Chinese-style fashion and tea). They also discuss the embroidery on their uniform, and how long Sugi’s uniform is because of his height.

Section 3: Shishitoren arc

This section summarises the Shishitoren arc, and includes panels from the manga, as well as keyframes from the anime!

Note: For the Tokyo exhibition, the Shishitoren tunnel was there, but from what I remember the Kyoto one didn’t have the tunnel (I might have missed it in my excitement to see Umemiya x_x)

Audio guide 3: The trio see a cat, and they discuss the Shishitoren members. According to Nirei’s notebook, Choji claims to understand cats, and there’s also some discussion about how Hiiragi and Sako had a past together, and they also talked about Togame and Sakura’s fight. Sakura comments that the fight he had this time felt different from those he had in the past, and Suo tells Sakura that he has climbed the staircase to adulthood while petting his head. Sakura gets all pissy (like a cat) and tells Suo to stop petting him like a cat. (LMAO)

Section 4: Pothos

There’s a recreation of the bar counter at Pothos here! (I also have a photo with myself here, request by DMs from moots only) You can sit here for photos, and they even recreated the omurice and coffee!!!

Audio guide 4: This takes place at Pothos. The trio have come to get some food, but Kotoha is out for now. Nirei quizzes the other two about what Kotoha likes, and the answer is that she likes taking care of plants. Kotoha returns, and the audio guide ends.

Section 5: Umemiya and the Shitenou

This section introduces you to the four kings! The scroll with the Boufuurin structure is super cool www.

It’s also super nice that they have the panel with Umemiya and the four kings in life-size!!! It’s almost like Umemiya is speaking straight to you ;-:

Audio guide 5: The trio discuss facts about Umemiya and Hiiragi. They warn you not to follow Hiiragi’s way of spamming Gascon 10, and discuss a bit about the role of grade captain. In a throwback to Sakura wanting to become the top (Teppen), they called the role of being the grad captain the Teppen of their class too. (SO CUTEEEE ;-; SAKURA IS SO LOVED)

Section 6: KEEL

This is the keel arc, and there’s this super cool wall with the Keel logo. The whole area was also decorated to look like the warehouse where the fight took place! You can see how the walls were made to look like the sheet metal in the warehouse.

They also have the panel of Kaji-paisen coming to the rescue in a life-sized board!!!

But I think the coolest panel is the first years in mid-fight!

Audio guide 6: Nirei is almost run over by a car!!! Nirei and Suo warn Sakura about watching out for Keel, and they discuss the traits of Keel. There’s also a bit of discussion about Kaji-paisen; the headphones seem to be a gift from someone important to him ^_^

Extra: Special video

No photos or recordings are allowed for this section, but it’s a video compilation voiced by Sakura about the growth he experienced up till the Keel arc ;-; it starts with how he was alone, and gains many dependable friends in Boufuurin, and how he’s no longer alone ;-; it is very beautifully thought out and created, and I really loved how poignant and moving the piano soundtrack was ;-;

Section 7: Roppo-Ichiza

This entire section looks like a night club, with all the blue lighting and use of metal grilles. There’s profiles of Tsubaki-chan, Kanji (forgot to take a pic of his oops) and Suzuri here (this one’s for you @/kafkaoftherubble!!!)

Audio guide 7: The trio start by talking about Gravel and the nature of the group. They also talk about Roppo-Ichiza, and mention that Umemiya and Nakamura (Kanji, not Yuuichiro www) know each other personally. When Nirei and Suo comment that Tsubaki-chan could be meeting someone she likes in the Roppo Ichiza area, Sakura starts stammering and blushing. (YOU CAN HEAR THE BLUSH SO MUCH)

Section 8: Umemiya’s past 

THIS IS MY FAVE SECTION BTW I TOOK SO MANY PICS HERE.

A small note that the notebook with “8” on it marks the points where there is an audio guide track! The audio guide specifically describes this section with the two scrolls:

Audio guide 8: Nirei starts the ball rolling on the past of the current Boufuurin. For the first part, he reads the text in the two scrolls in a super exaggerated and old-fashioned (think Kabuki-style without the elongated syllables!) manner. Suo observes that Nirei really likes the town, and Sakura says that he will protect the town.

ALSO THIS IS HANDS DOWN ONE OF MY FAVOURITE ILLUSTRATION BOARDS THROUGHOUT THE WHOLE EXHIBITION

ALSO THIS. PLEASE LOOK AT THIS.

Section 9: FRANK

At the time of the exhibition, this arc was still ongoing! Only the first part where Boufuurin is prepping for the fight is featured.

I also LOVE this cover art, I’m so glad they have a big version of it here!!

They also reproduced the briefing by Mizuki about the plan to protect the town! The projector will also show a QR code that you can scan which takes you to a web page that replicates the LINE group chat created by Mizuki for Boufuurin. (Available by request by DMs, moots only)

(edit 22 October 2024) I tried scanning the QR code here^, it brings you to the first chapter of Wind Breaker on Magazine Pocket lmao.

Some of the manga panels and art featuring the start of the fights is also featured here!

Audio guide 9: Note that this is actually an epilogue to the exhibition that does not touch on this arc. The trio say the Boufuurin motto. The cat from audio guide 3 gets ahold of Nirei’s notebook, and Sakura chases after it!

Extra: Anime-related content

For this section, photos are not allowed. The OP and ED videos are showed, and there’s a wall of 16 shikishi (signature boards) from the voice actors, production staff, and even natori and Young Keel! The shikishi which really stood out to me was Suzuki Ryouta’s (Hiiragi’s seiyuu), he wrote “Gascon Ten?” (HELP I’M CRYING) (t/n: This is a very dumb pun. In Japanese, the Wind Breaker Exhibition is called “WinBreTen” for short, as 展＝てん＝pronounced as “ten” = exhibition.)

Merch haul

I bought an aggressive amount of merch from the exhibition, and surprisingly my favourite piece isn’t anything Umemiya related, but it’s Nirei’s notebook. It’s super cute that it’s marked as Nirei’s own notebook, and even includes all the character profiles until Tsubaki-chan!!! 

Also the finger puppets were available starting from the Kyoto exhibition, I’m SO GLAD I managed to get one.

Other significant stuff I bought of note: Yakiniku Teishoku t-shirt (I am wearing it as I type this lmao), WinBre10 candies (IT’S THAT PUN AGAIN HELPPPP). There’s a couple other things I got but these are the more interesting ones www

And that’s it! Thank you for sticking through with my very long post with an aggressive amount of simping for Umemiya. I hope you’ve enjoyed it and managed to get a glimpse of what it was like! I rate it Gascon10/Winbre10, will go again (I’ve been infected by Suzuki Ryouta).

[maliciousblog]

Smile for the camera (Eunwoo)

He was binging on your latest drama. You had finally caught your big break as a lead in a successful drama as the main lead.

The drama ranking No.1 in many countries ,shooting you into stardom. Earning you much critical acclaim and praise not only for your talent but also your beauty with a whole new army of fans with it.

Him included he initially admired your talent his guilty pleasure being watching your interviews and saving the cute fan edits that were made of you. His admiration for your work blooming into a little crush for you.  He was taken for your personality and work ethic.

He tried to get his agent to book a project with you but given your sudden shooting up in popularity you were booked and busy.

Music video shoots , runway shows , ad campaigns you name it your face was on it.

Not that you would complain about it.

You loved working the job you had genuinely bought you joy.

As you were able to make dreams a reality through your work you could make art come to life.

You knew you busted your ass to get where you are.

Months of auditions only to be faced with constant rejection and when you finally did land a job it was a minor role not even noticeable to most.

When those countless hours of work finally paid off it was a dream come true a dream you had put your blood and sweat into.

The dream you spent your whole life working towards and you sure as hell weren't about to let these new opportunities pass you by.

So you took them as they came agreeing to every intriguing project your manager bought to you.

Currently you were at the launch of a beauty brand collaboration. You were appointed as the ambassador of the beauty brand star dust releasing a line for makeup inspired by your favourite desserts. The lip  products named after the sweet treats you enjoyed to eat and the eyeshadow palettes inspired by your favourite colours.

To no one's surprise the launch went well and you were back home letting your aching feet get some rest.

Just as you were about to dooze off the shrill ring of your mobile woke you up half asleep your hands reaching in search for your phone.

Picking it up your manager's voice coming through telling you that you had an audition for a drama first thing in the morning you hummed in agreement and tossed the phone across the room. You were worn to the bone this was tomorrow's problem right now you had to rest in order to make your best impression tomorrow.

As you close your eyes in sleep another pair lay open restless at night.

Eunwoo lay awake nothing particularly stopping him from sleeping it was just one of those days.

When the air was stale and the bed was a little too warm to be comfortable.

Maybe a walk would help.

Rustling out of bed he pulled on a black hoodie and a cap. Conceal his face as he aimlessly walked down the city streets in an effort to tire himself out.

Looking into the buildings that lined the streets lit up with bright lights luring unsuspecting customers inside.

That's when he saw a poster of you advertising your makeup line.

He had some time on his hands and wouldn't do him much harm to go check it out.

He was supporting a fellow actor it was the right thing to do.

Birds of the same flock should look out for each other right?.

Before he knew it he was at the counter inspecting the products not that he would get much use out of them he did use makeup while filming but not exactly the sparkling and glittery kind but that didn't really matter now did it.

His desire for coming in wasn't for the makeup it was for you.

He grabbed a box set of your entire collection and headed for checking out.

The underpaid store clerk didn't take too much notice of him.

Monotonously scanning his items and bagging them not forgetting to slip in the complimentary photo cards of you.

Handing the bag to him before turning their eyes down back to scrolling through their phone.

He grabbed his bag thanking the clerk ,heading back to his apartment.

Excitement blooming in his chest wondering which photocard he had gotten.

It felt weird is this what his fans felt like when they bought his merch.

He never thought he would be able to be in the shoes of his fans but here he was in their position.

It felt weird. He couldn't place what exactly it was you barely knew him.

Yet here he was getting giddy at the thought of which mystery little piece of cardboard with a selfie he would pull.

He grabbed some take out on him way back to his apartment.

Placing his food on one side of the table the other side he placed your merch tearing into the packaging inspecting the contents inside admiring it.

Saving the photocard for last it was a selfie of you holding a macaroon. He had to agree it was cute.

Slipping it into his wallet the action seemed so natural to him.

He had become a full on fan boy now. There was no going back.

The following days were spent buying out more of your merch in fact all the merch you had to offer.

Finding its place into his house.

The best of all was when he got a call from his agent that he was given an offer for a drama where you were cast as the female lead.

He agreed to it with a little too much enthusiasm that his agent had to ask him to at least check the script out first.

He replied that he would but for now to immediately inform production that he would accept the job.

He didn't care what the drama was about as long as he got the opportunity to work with you.

Imagine his joy when he discovered that it was a romance drama a sweet collage love story with you as him love interest and him as your leading man. The story was sweet and touching.

It was bound to gather success . the story was good , along with both of your talent and star power it was bound to be a hit.

He managed to rush production into starting filming as soon as possible stating that he would have scheduling issues if they didn't.

You were more than happy to get back into work.

Especially with someone like Eunwoo.

The first day on set went like any other day

The usual outfit fittings and test runs. Nothing out of the ordinary apart from your over enthusiastic costar.

It was endearing at first his enthusiasm to spend time with you.

His insistent demands to rehearse your scenes together before filming.

You couldn't deny them he was your senior and had much more power over production and executives than you did.

One word from him and you could get kicked off set.

You didn't have an option but to go along with what he said and agree to rehearse the scenes over and over again.

You guessed that he was just a perfectionist.

But it didn't end at that he insisted on spending as much time with you as he possibly could giving you the sorry excuse that he was method acting and he was just doing it in order to stay in character to make sure the emotional scenes were more believable and realistic.

In his perspective it was just a crush and he was just doing what he had to do to make sure you were in his sight and eventually fall for him.

Who could resist him.

He knew he had to play it safe with you he had to make sure his moves were precise and calculated.

You were too focused on your career to be dating.

Not that he didn't try.

The constant flirting and dropping one hint after the other.

He got your message loud and clear you weren't interested.

Honestly it was a little insulting and he would be lying if he didn't admit that it didn't sting his ego a little. He knew his worth and knew that he was more than a fine catch.

But you were just too stubborn. Weren't you but that was just a small issue he could easily fix.

You were so perfect together.

Everyone around you saw it.

The staff were head over heels for you both.

Your chemistry ozzed off the screen mostly because you were a good actor.

But something was missing in the plot.

Something that would send your life into a spiral.

Your pair was a little too perfect it would make the story boring to the audience.

Most of the filming was completed over the past 4 months but the story was a little flat. It lacked the drama that was needed to keep the audience hooked.

The writing department had to predictable idea of adding a second lead creating a love triangle.

It wasn't anything ground breaking or new but it was a good way to spice things up and add some drama enough to keep the audience hooked.

You didn't mind the change added to the script.

You could work with it.

But one member on set wasn't as flexible he spent the next few hours arguing with executives on the plot changes but their hands were tied the sponsors had invested too much into the drama for it to possibly not do well.

They had to do what production told them too.

There wasn't anything they could do to change it.

But at least it would only add a few more weeks onto the filming schedule he could work with that.

He knew it was a game of patience.

For now he just had to suck it up and choke back down the bile that raised in his throat each time he saw you and the second lead Yunho film together.

His crush escalated into obsession when he saw the both of you film for the first time.

It looked so natural.

It made his blood boil.

Especially when he heard some of the staff on set say that they were team Yunho. The thought of which made him white with rage.

The worst of it wasn't even when you were on camera.

It was your willingness to spend time with Yunho off camera.

It perplexed him.

You would constantly try to make stupid excuses to avoid spending time with him.

But here you were giggling away at the stupid jokes this boy cracked.

He couldn't see how much his presence suffocates you. Constantly hovering around you using every excuse to be near you.

Adding unnecessary intimate scenes to the show. Stealing kisses from you while on camera to make things seem more "believable".

It was pathetic and you saw right through it at first it was flattering but not it just felt like you were being taken advantage of and the worst thing about it was that there was nothing you could do about it.

It was a man's world and you knew that.

One wrong move from your side to piss off the wrong man in power and poff you would just be another star forgotten by time.

You just had to suck it up for a while longer it was just a couple more weeks of filming and everyone knew you would end up with him.

It was all part of the bigger picture.

Filming went by in a haze and you and him were filming a commercial for one of the sponsors of the show.

It was a perfume brand warranting a steamy little commercial.

It was the first look the public had to your pair and they ate it right up.

Buzz for your show skyrocketed as they couldn't help but to start shipping the both of you.

The chemistry was undeniably mesmerizing.

Which wasn't because you liked him it was just because you were a good actor.

Your dislike for him only grew with how cocky he was about the success of your advertisement.

The interviews and promotion that followed you drama was even more insufferable.

He made it his mission to sell the image of the ideal couple to the public.

It was a trap and you knew it.

He would post you on his social media and be flirtatious and  drop constant hints of your make belief relationship.

He very well knew that if he had the public on his side he could get you to do anything he wanted.

If they believed that the both of you were a couple and began shipping the both of you.

You would have no choice but to be his.

If you broke it off with him the public would brand you a slut.

Breaking the heart of a man that loved you so dearly and sincerely.

How could you be so heartless.

Offers for work would start to drop and he would conveniently drop a cheating scandal on you and then poof overnight your career would be non existent.

It was a sick and twisted trap but one that would surely work.

Once the show aired to no one's surprise it was a hit. The numbers are higher than you had ever seen before.

Within weeks the both of you were being offered roles by big media houses to work together again.

Your agency was pressing you into dating him publicly.

Threatening to terminate your contact and black list you if you denied.

They knew that they would make huge profits off your relationship and were more than willing to squeeze out every last bit of it off you no matter what the price.

It was either that or losing the career you had spent your whole life building up.

You were in your apartment sobbing into your pillow when you heard the door to your room creak open.

There he stood with a beautiful bouquet of spider lilies in hand.

In the low light of your bedroom he almost looked like a statue his beauty was sickening in different circumstances you would consider yourself the luckiest girl in the world to have a man like him.

But only you could see behind his beautiful mask that hid his cruel intentions for you.

He came up to you wiping away your tears.

"You wouldn't have to go through all this if you just said yes.

Not that you have much of an option not to.

I can give you the world.

And you have to be such an ungrateful little bitch don't you."

You felt your scalp burn and he yanked you up by the hair to face him.

"You will go along with whatever I say.

You will do anything I ask of you.

Either that or I'll destroy you and everything you love.

I'm honestly being kind to you I could destroy your career and still have you.

But I'm being kind , agree to be my doting love struck girlfriend and you get to keep your precious little career.

I'm a reasonable man but I'm not a very forgiving man so don't take advantage of my kindness.

It would be unfortunate if I were to leak your family's private information now wouldn't it.

Just imagine what our crazed fans would do to them when they find out you hurt me and our relationship by being a selfish cunt."

You shoved him off you.

'Please just leave them out of this you want me right fine. Ju.. just please leave them out of it I'm begging you.'

You pleaded to him.

"See that's my good girl look how reasonable you are right now.

I would hate to see something bad happen to my in-laws.

So now be a good girl and pick up that bouquet and go post about how amazing of a boyfriend I am and how much you fucking love me alright."

He said as he left a kiss on your forehead leaving you there in shambles.

" By the way. You look really pretty when you beg. I should make you do it more often."

Once the news of your relationship was aired out into the world it has gone just as he predicted it would.

So the both of you had become the No.1 power couple of the entertainment industry.

He made sure you did a convincing job at playing the devoted partner who always supported him and stood by him no matter what.

He made sure to pick out your roles for you making sure you mostly worked with him or did solo lead movies and shows.

Making sure to keep your interaction with men that weren't him to an absolute minimum.

And it did work for a while but that didn't stop men from flirting with you or asking you out despite being in a very public relationship.

Who could blame them you were beautiful and off camera anyone could see your dislike for your boyfriend that occasionally showed on your face.

You always tried your level best to make sure that he would always be happy.

And his happiness was at the direct proportion to how well you behaved.

You soon realised he didn't just want a girlfriend he wanted to make sure you were his forever.

He wanted to put a stop to this unwanted male attention that you always drew onto yourself.

It wasn't enough. This relationship was enough it was too fragile it was too rocky.

You always felt like you were walking on thin ice when you were around him.

Trying to make sure you smile didn't falter, making sure the hugs and kisses you gave him felt genuine.

The words of affection you uttered towards him were genuine.

It wasn't too hard to convince him of it , you were an actor after all.

It wasn't too hard to give him the illusion of the perfect life he wanted.

What was hard was for you to accept defeat.

It was all part of his plan after all wasn't it.

The final piece of the puzzle.

He stood at the other side of the room as your sobbing echoed through the walls reaching his ears.

You slid down the walls clutching a positive pregnancy test. Knowing that all hopes of ever leaving him were gone.

There was no leaving him now.

Him baby trapping you would force you to marry him as soon as possible before anyone knew that you were pregnant.

He had it all now.

Successful career.

Loving wife and now a beautiful family.

You were finally defeated.

You were stuck with him now for life.

You loved your children and he did too.

You managed to convince the world that you loved him maybe one day you could convince yourself too.

You were no longer a person just another accessory that he paraded around on his arm.

Show off like a trophy that he had won.

He lived the life others could only ever dream of having. While you were stuck in a nightmare that he had carefully woven for you.

[devilmademewriteit]

Gods & Monsters

pairing: Soldier Boy/afab!fem!reader

summary: delivering coffees to Vought’s crisis management team brings you face to face with Soldier Boy—who has a different job in mind for you.

warnings: pure, filthy smut (blowjob, fem penetration, slight predator/prey; slight orgasm denial) so 18+ only content; Soldier Boy b/c tbh he’s his own warning; fem afab reader; mention of reader having long hair (hair pulling); drug mention (coke in detail); title kink (sir); pet names (doll-face, sweetheart, doll); dubcon (coercion, imbalance of power); use of slut degradingly; choking; (light) slapping; spitting.

beta reader: @millllenniawrites aka bestie

word count: 3.3k

this is my first time writing for The Boys!! would love to hear feedback & requests are always allowed :)

—

Even before finding yourself at the mercy of a power-drunk supe, you’d had yourself a pretty fucked up day.

After spending your morning hunched over your desk at Vought trying, in vain, to piece together a script for the new upcoming Crimson Countess film (with a team of useless douchebags hooked on uppers) you had all but quit your job.

Then, of course, the afternoon came with its own set of troubles. Your supervisor had hurried over, wild-eyed and raving, to break the news of a PR scandal—you guessed one of the twins, it was always one of the twins—which called for all hands on deck; including yours, which were delegated to the indispensable task of retrieving coffees for the crisis management team upstairs. If you weren’t flat broke and more of a risk-taker, you’d never engage with anything supe-related ever again—but you were, and you weren’t, so you find yourself in the later hours of the evening delivering lattes to your higher ups on floors of the tower you’d never heard of before.

The elevator doors open and you come face to face with the poster-boy of the company. Your heart leaps as you recognize his face; it settles when you realize he’d never recognize yours. After all, you’d only met briefly once before: just last week, you’d finally spent time on set for one of Payback’s shoots. Assistant duties only, of course, but it had been thrilling to watch the supe and his team, nonetheless.

Needless to say, seeing him up close, now, is a completely different experience. No mask, no makeup—just his chiseled, gorgeous face and entitlement simmering in his green eyes.

“Good, you’re here. I was gonna go looking for you,” Soldier Boy says, unfazed by your paralyzing shock. Amused, he adds, “And you brought the coffee, too.”

You stand in the elevator, unmoving. Then, ever so slowly, you hand him the tray of full, steaming cups.

He laughs, wrinkles next to his eyes forming as he takes the tray. Your mistake seems obvious once the image of the company’s most expensive asset holding a tray of five cent coffees is on display before you.

He calls someone over from down the hall, and a wiry young man comes scampering over. “Take these to the assholes down the hall,” Soldier Boy orders. “And tell them not to fuckin bother me tonight.”

The young man nods fervently and speed-walks, tray in hand, back in the direction he’d rushed over from.

The elevator dings and the metal doors begin to close, but a large palm slaps them back in place. You watch as Soldier Boy peels his hand back, leaving indents in the steel.

“Where have they been hiding you?” He asks, leaning against the metal frame. His eyes flash with amusement as he scans your body up and down, making you wish that you’d worn a nicer skirt or ironed your shirt just a bit more carefully this morning.

You swallow, your throat suddenly tight. “I work in the creative department. Writing,” you say, determined to regain some composure.

“You the one that writes those fuckin’ anti-drug ads?” He asks, ever-so-nonchalantly.

“No,” you answer, trying not to meet his imposing stare head-on. ”I write the movies, the television scripts, that kinda thing.”

“Yeah, you don’t look like a complete prude,” he jokes. ”Though I’m sure I could teach you a few things,” the supe adds with a wink.

He looks at you expectantly, something unidentifiable in the way he takes you in.

You don’t respond.

“Really? Nothing? Thought you worked in the creative department,” he taunts.

You clear your throat. “I do, sir,” you respond, your voice faltering with fake confidence. “And I really should be getting back,” you quickly add, reaching for the button that would take you back down to your floor.

A massive hand blocks your own, and you look up at the supe, frustrated.

He whistles softly. “Whoo, ‘sir…’ I sure like hearing you say that.”

Adrenaline courses through your entire body as he takes a small, controlled step towards you. Your mind races, trying to come up with some sort of escape plan, but it goes blank the moment you glance at that pouty bottom lip or notice the rugged curve of his jaw.

“Well, today’s your lucky day, doll,” the stranger says, his voice suddenly low and quiet, “‘cause we need you up here.”

“For what?” You ask, barely above a whisper.

Something about the glint in his eye makes you want to run down the hall as fast as possible—to get away from this madman. He reminds you of a wild animal; you sense something ferocious and tense coiled up inside, begging to come loose.

And yet, something about the grit in his voice and the shape of his shoulders makes you want to play his game, to close the distance between the two of you.

See where it takes you.

He smiles and steps into the elevator, easing his way behind you and placing his palm against the small of your back, urging you forward.

“Don’t worry, pretty girl,” he grumbles into your ear. “You’ll love it.”

You look up at him, unsure of what to do and intimidated by his overwhelming presence, his demanding words. Like prey caught in a trap, every instinct screams at you to get away.

You don’t move.

“Come on, sweetheart,” he coaxes, twisting a strand of your hair. There’s an edge to his voice you’d only ever heard between cuts, when the cameras weren’t rolling. “Wouldn’t want to upset an American hero, would you?”

You give in, allowing yourself to be guided out of the elevator and down the hall by his palm’s weight against your spine. He doesn’t even look at you; he only steers you forward into an enormous suite, lavishly decorated with all sorts of expensive fabrics, paintings, and furniture. It’s nicer than anything you’ve ever seen, yet Soldier Boy saunters in like it’s no more impressive than a dingy motel room.

The first thing you notice is a heap of white powder out in the open on a massive wooden table. The supe walks over to it and does a line through a rolled up twenty, jerking his head back and shaking his head.

“Want any?” He asks, turning his gaze back to you.

“No, thanks,” you respond, wary. “I like to be sober on the job,” you add, not wanting to sound judgemental.

He shrugs.

“What, exactly, did you want from me?” You ask, cringing at the naivety of the question. What he wants hangs thick in the room, it was heavy in his eyes from the moment you’d first met them.

He closes the distance between you and flashes a taunting smile.

“You don’t like coke? I got benzos, oxy, weed… really anything a girl could want.” He plays absentmindedly with the fabric of your skirt, his eyes drinking in every inch of your body.

“All I want is for you to tell me what you want.”

“You sure have a way with words, doll-face,” his right hand finds its way to the front of your throat, stroking the skin there, gently. Every part of your body responds to the touch and unwelcome arousal clouds your thoughts as you try to keep yourself together.

He ducks down, his lips lightly brushing skin of your ear.

“I want to watch you take my cock in every way you can, sweetheart.”

Your body responds before your mind can process his words; suddenly, you’re having trouble standing upright as heat spreads across your core.

“I know you’ll be so good for me,” he adds, fiddling with the collar of your shirt.

“Can I say no?” You ask, cursing how small your voice sounds. Despite your efforts, you’re sure he can hear your reluctant desire dripping off your every word.

He looses a low chuckle. “‘Course you can,” a pause as he places his palm against your cheek, “but you shouldn’t,” he finishes, flatly. “Besides,” Soldier Boy continues, his voice husky and deep, “all I’m asking is for you to get on your knees and put that pretty little mouth to good use.”

You don’t know what makes you do it. Perhaps it feels inevitable; after all, you happen to be alone, cornered by the most powerful man in the world. Or maybe, just maybe, some twisted part of you wants to be at the mercy of this man.

Almost as if in automatic response, you feel yourself sinking to the ground, holding his stare like a tether to reality—a lifeline. He smirks with satisfaction, and, celebrating his win, unhooks his buckle for you to pull the length of him out. Your eyes widen, astonished by the sheer size and girth of him. He notices, of course, and gives you a lazy grin.

Asshole.

Begrudgingly, you accept that you want him. Still, you struggle to admit to yourself that this desire is quickly becoming much more than that.

Some starved part of you is desperate to satisfy this stranger in any way you can.

“Take all of it,” he orders, nodding down towards you. You obey, tasting the salt of his pre-cum and feeling him push down to the back of your throat.

“That’s fucking right, sweetheart,” Soldier Boy groans as you slide down the length of his cock, over and over. “That’s what this mouth was made for.”

He tugs at your hair, taking a fistful of it and forcing your eyes up to meet his. He thrusts forwards, pushing deeper and deeper and deeper—you give him everything you have. His intensity only builds and you find yourself choking, spit gathering in the corners of your lips as he fucks your mouth.

“Fuck yeah, doll,” he groans. “You fuckin’ love that.”

You melt into his encouraging gaze, your eyelids heavy, your panties soaked completely through.

You nod in agreement and he loosens his hold on your hair. You pull off of him, gasping for air, strings of saliva connecting the two of you in pure need.

“Don’t you stop,” the supe warns, using one hand to guide his cock back into your mouth, the other pushing at the back of your head.

You go slow, now, blinking the well-earned tears from your eyes, savouring the feel of him against your lips, your tongue, the roof of your mouth. You put both hands to work and watch him remove the top of his suit, near swooning at the sight of his bare torso.

“You want me to fuck that pussy of yours?” He asks, making your clit throb in response.

Breathless, you utter a quick “yes,” before taking him back between your lips.

“Fuckin’ course you do,” he responds lazily, placing a hand on your cheek, running his thumb down your face, tracing the bone as he smiles.

“Then tell me you’re a slut who loves sucking cock,” he says gently, his torturous hand behind your head always guiding you to take more and more of him, keeping you desperate for air. “Isn’t that true?” He continues, arrogance soaking each and every syllable. “Don’t you fucking love having my dick in your mouth?”

You nod, dazed with lust, his low and gravelly voice undoing you in every way.

“Say it,” he commands, his voice severe—degrading.

You slide off of his length, continuing to please him with the use of your hands.

It comes out as a plea. “I’m a slut who loves sucking cock,” you tell him, earnestly, meeting the challenge in his eyes head-on.

His length twitches in your hand and you know you’ve done a good job.

Soldier Boy laughs. “Get up, sweetheart,” he orders, “bedroom’s on the left.”

You obey, lifting yourself onto shaking legs. Your kneecaps burn from the friction.

You round into a room with a huge bed, unmade silver silk sheets and a thin duvet cast upon it like something out of a movie. The moon’s glow shines through a massive window, illuminating the surrounding luxury. You hear a loud sniff followed by a sigh, then footsteps approaching your direction.

It’s impossible to take it all in. Barely five seconds pass before Soldier Boy is behind you, unbuttoning your blouse.

“You got a favourite way to take it?” He asks, ridding you of your shirt. “With tits like this,” he groans into your neck, roughly squeezing your breasts and running a calloused finger over each nipple, “I could watch you bounce.”

You shiver at his touch, aching for more. The feel of the supe behind your back is nothing short of maddening; his hardness pressing against you fills your head with thoughts so sinful they’d make the devil blush.

“I want to watch,” you decide, surprised at the strength of your own volition. “I want to see you fucking me.”

You wind up on your back at the edge of the mattress with Soldier Boy between your legs. Desire simmers into your very bones, threatening to undo you before even being touched.

He bunches up your skirt and slides a thumb down the middle of your panties. “Fuckin’ soaked,” he whispers to himself with a smile, shaking his head. He pulls them off roughly and sets himself up at your entrance, running his tip along your swollen clit one, two, three times.

“Stay up on your elbows and don’t look away—got it, sweetheart?” The stranger orders. You respond with a fervent nod. As he slides himself between your folds, you let out a soft gasp, watching his cock disappear inside you. He groans, then flashes you an arrogant smirk.

“Fucking desperate for it,” he says. “Look how good your pussy takes it.”

Placing his hands on your upper thighs, he sets a rhythm, slow and hard; all you can do is stare, open-mouthed, at the sight of his cock slamming in and out of you. You meet his eyes for a moment—his full of mockery and satisfaction, yours likely full of wild abandon.

“You like seeing me ruin you?”

Struggling to form words, you merely gasp out a desperate “yeah” and it sounds more like a question. You try to stay propped up on your elbows as the brutality of his thrusts intensifies—he fucks you harder and faster with every movement.

“Ohhh, fuck, yeah you do,” he answers, throwing his head back, a winner’s smile spreading across his face.

It feels so good you can hardly string together a cohesive thought. You reach out for something to grab onto and your fingers find his forearm, the indestructible muscles underneath tensing as you struggle to stay up. Soldier boy smiles down at your dazed expression, placing his hands on either side of your head as he leans forward.

“Open that mouth just a little wider for me, sweetheart,” he says softly, contrasting the roughness of his thrusts.

You obey, and placing his thumb on your chin, he spits in your mouth, his saliva coating your tongue.

“Swallow, baby,” he says, and so you do, moaning as his spit slides down your throat.

He ducks his head down. “Fuck that’s so hot,” he groans, finding your clit and drawing lazy circles on your pulsing, swollen bud.

“You’re a fuckin’ superstar, sweetheart, the way this pussy takes cock.”

The stimulation overwhelms you entirely. “I-I can’t hold on,” you gasp out, feeling a familiar warmth spreading from where his thumb plays with your pulsing bud.

He wraps a hand around your throat, forcing you to look deep inside his heavy-lidded eyes, his dilated pupils.

“Tell me how much of a slut you are for this cock and I’ll let you come,” he orders with a mocking smile.

You can feel yourself going, seeing stars from the feel of his thighs slamming into your ass, his length reaching deep inside you, and the hand wrapped around your throat.

The man certainly loved making you talk in moments where words were impossible to form.

Soldier Boy laughs. “What, fuckin’ cock-drunk already?” His hand momentarily leaves your throat to collide with your cheek, waking you out of your stupor, before wrapping around your jaw. His grip is controlled—it inflicts no pain but allows for no negotiation, either.

“Tell me you love it.”

“I love it,” you moan, barely above a whisper. All you can focus on is holding back your climax as his fingers continue to work at the apex between your thighs.

“Scream it,” he orders, slamming himself inside you. The violent sound of skin meeting skin fills the room, fills your ears.

“Please-“ you beg, the word coated in desperation.

“Fuckin’ scream it,” he demands, unbending.

He leans in deep, his cock grazing the sweet spot at your core.

Warmth and lust erupt from inside you.

Words become easy, now. “I love it, I love it, oh my god I love your cock,” you half-gasp, half-cry as your orgasm blossoms through your body. You tremble underneath him and he laughs, continuing to fuck you through the waves of bliss.

“Just a desperate fuckin’ whore,” he taunts, running his hands along your sides, your breasts, before reaching your ass, giving it a harsh squeeze.

He pulls out quickly, leaving you panting, shaking, dazed, empty.

“On your knees one more time for me, doll,” he says with surprising gentleness, pulling you by the arm off the edge of the bed. “I wanna see you taste my fuckin’ load,” the supe says with a smile, again using a large hand to guide his length into your open mouth.

You take him in slowly, registering your own acidic taste on his cock. There’s a low groan from him, and then he’s holding both sides of your head steady and thrusting into the back of your throat.

“Fuck. Yeah.” He says, throwing his head back. You keep your eyes up, locked on him. When he meets your gaze, he groans, “god, you look a fucking mess.” He grins down at you, “I almost feel bad for getting you up here.”

You freeze and look up at him, his length still halfway down your throat.

He scoffs and smiles. “You really think they’d get someone from your floor to bring fucking coffees up here?” He palms your cheek, shaking his head. “I knew from the moment I saw you at the shoot last week—your little fucking clipboard and that short ass skirt…” he trails off, stroking your cheek as you stare up into his daring eyes.

“I knew I had to see you like this.”

His words send shivers down your spine. You know you should feel used, tricked, or stupid, but all you feel is grateful, special, at his having noticed you. That desperate desire to please him simmers fiercely in your blood.

Slowly, you begin moving again, running your tongue down the length of his cock before circling the tip, tauntingly, slowly, adoringly. He shakes his head and grins: a god between your lips.

“Good girl.”

You grab his hips to steady yourself, trying your best to stay still and take his whole length without choking, lightheaded from the lack of air.

“Fuuuuuuck.” You feel his cock twitch as a stream of warmth slips down your throat, salty and thick. He relaxes his grip and slowly pulls his length out from your mouth. “Look at me and swallow, baby,” Soldier boy whispers firmly, holding your cheek in his hand.

You close your mouth and swallow, trying to steady your breath as the taste of him lingers in your mouth. He smiles and wipes a thick finger along your lips.

“‘Could keep you here, you know,” he says softly, holding your face up to meet his drunken look. “Tie you up, fuck you till you forget who you are… you’d like that, wouldn’t you, doll?” He asks, his voice low, dark, and gentle—you ignore how sinister it sounds, leaning into his hand and closing your eyes.

“Yes, sir,” you mumble, turning into his palm and smiling.

Soldier Boy’s soft chuckle fills the room, and he leans down to take your face in both his calloused, firm hands.

“You’re a fucking star, sweetheart,” he says. “You’re my fucking star, right?”

You gaze into his darkened eyes, wondering how in the world you came to be in this position.

It didn’t matter.

You were here now, and you wanted more. Needed more.

“Right.”

Your answer is met by a look of utter male satisfaction, Soldier Boy’s eyes filling again with animalistic hunger.

You’d be his for as long as he’d have you.

[angeart]

hhau rescue rambles - part I

>> hhau masterpost here << [cw besides the usual mess and violence: animal death mention]

It’s been months since the latest hermit got saved, and over a year since Hermitcraft imploded. There’s only two people to go: Scar and Grian. And they can’t seem to locate them at all. But they can’t stop looking. They can’t, they won’t. 

The rescue party is comprised of X (voidwalker), Doc (creeper), Ren (wolf), Impulse (partially demon), Cub (vex), Gem (deer), and Pearl (moth). Thanks to X knowing how to navigate and survive the void, they are able to get a void vessel (a sort of ship) to base in as they go around scanning different worlds and scouring for information. 

Until they come across a world that reads as permadeath, and somewhere in the world files, X flags Grian’s and Scar’s name. Not as players; there’s no list available here. What comes up is the wanted poster. It doesn’t have a date stamp. It could be months old, and they know Scar's track record with dying.

Still, they have to try.

They search for a place that seems to have good resources and Cub, Gem, and Pearl get dropped down. They’re equipped with bracelets that they can activate to send X a signal to teleport them back, and two extra for Grian and Scar, if they do find them, but they have to gather any other kind of equipment, including armour and weapons, on their own.

They quickly realise comms don’t work on this world, and as the player list is also non-existent or corrupted, they are going in blind.

Well… almost.

They use Cub’s vex bond with Scar to pick a direction to head in.

--

Grian and Scar, in the meanwhile, are not having a Good Time. 

Some awful things have happened prior to this, namely the ending of the Summer house arc. To quickly sum it up, Grian and Scar went up north, for as long as they could. Away, away, away from everyone. Until it felt like maybe they’re far away enough, and they tentatively set up a house. Which turned into a nest. Which turned into a semblance of permanence.

A lot of things went on here. Days turned into peaceful weeks and, tentatively, they started thinking that maybe they can start planning some kind of future here. They planted crops. Scar re-learned to glide with his torn wings. Grian unfurled his wings and re-learned the feeling of flying through the sky. And they found a bird friend! (A real, living bird in this world!)

The reality caught up to them eventually. 

Nobody’s really seen Scar or Grian for a while, but the avians in this world have dull wing patters, for survival reasons, and so Grian is really special. And the hunters don’t want to give that up. The reward on the wanted poster gets upped, and now the fever pitch to get this avian rises. The hunters go further. In bigger groups. Greedy and determined.

They find the nest house, empty at the time, and they burn it down. 

Scar and Grian come back to find it in flames, and to find themselves unsafe and hunted once again. All of a sudden, they have nothing again. The fire licks high, turning everything to ash, to a distant cheering and hollering of a party of hunters. There’s no sign of their bird friend.

(Grian finds him later. Dead, with wings cut off. The only creature that resembled him; the bird he befriended, the proof that a winged creature could exist here and survive. Ripped to pieces. Echoing the only fate that is bound to await Grian as well.) (It was a sun conure parrot, bright and beautiful.) 

The hunters are on their tail once they realise that Scar and Grian are here; that it wasn’t just some temporary base that’s now abandoned. With no remorse and still too much cheer, bloodthirsty and unstoppable, they go after them. 

Scar’s blood is absolutely boiling and he expects Grian to ground him. To talk him down. But Grian’s mind buzzes, looking at that bird, and— He’s as down to fight as Scar is. Because anger is easier than grief right now.

He’s so tired of grief. 

So instead, Grian goes angry and feral. (The other option is to fall apart, and he can’t.) 

They tear this particular hunting group apart, and it’s meant to make them feel better, but it doesn’t. It feels like a necessity; like just one more step towards survival. They loot what they can, and they continue moving, realising that stopping anywhere to do more than just survive is a moot point. They’re not going to outrun this. They'll never be allowed to stop. They’ll be hunted forever.

(Grian will be hunted forever—)

The word gets out, and more and more hunters arrive, wanting the trophy of violet wings and the wanted reward for themselves. It’s a sport to them. A way to get rich. Like a gold fever, they continue tracking Grian and Scar, relentlessly hounding them down.

There are times when things go worse in these encounters. Grian gets his wings grabbed and attacked, and it sends him spiraling back to never allowing anyone—including himself—to touch his feathers. (He was doing better and now it’s all gone.)

They internalise many horrible thoughts, during their run. It’s been a year-worth of culmination of awful events, a year worth of pain and fear and loss. 

For Scar, as a vex, he’s been expected to be a monster from the start. And all he wanted here was some peace. To be with Grian. He wasn’t allowed it, but now he finally got a glimpse at it—at what could’ve been; at who he wanted to be from the beginning (who he’s always been)—and it’s violently taken from him. So yeah, fuck it. If they want a monster, he’ll be a monster. 

(This leads him to thinking that he shouldn’t be trusted with soft things anymore, Grian’s feathers included, especially as Grian gets ground-bound again and starts pulling his wings tightly against his back and flinching at the mere implication of touch.) (It hurts to witness, after what Scar’s seen: Grian, freely gliding through the sky, violet feathers catching sunlight.) (He was allowed to preen them, tentatively, slowly, gradually, a couple of times.) (Not anymore. Not anymore.)

 Grian keeps thinking about the bird, and how they’re the same. He’s seen the brutal display, the way the wings were taken. He can’t quite stop thinking about it. 

But it’s more than that. He’s also thinking about [redacted]. About anything winged being doomed. About what happened with the vexes. It all spins and spins and spins until he can’t see himself as anything but harbinger of death.

The hunters wouldn’t care to go this far for one vex. They only go because of his goddamn feathers.

Naturally, this topples into him thinking that Scar will be safer and better off without him. They’ve been running on sleepless nights and exhaustion, trying to get away to no avail. They’re tired, and things are looking dire, and— Grian wants it to stop. He needs Scar to be taken out of this equation, separated from this fate. He needs him to be safe. (He can’t bring death to Scar.)

Grian can lead the hunters the other way. They only really care about him. ([redacted] already proved that point, after all.) 

So one night, Grian sneaks away.

He presses a soft kiss to Scar before he goes. (It’s a farewell kiss.) Scar is asleep, only kind of waking up to it—just that groggy, sleepy “mm?” Grian kisses his forehead again, oh so gently, and murmurs the quietest “Love you. Stay safe for me.” To Scar, it just feels like a dream, and he dozes off again, none the wiser.

The next morning, Scar wakes up to Grian gone.

For a while, he doesn’t even remember that hazy interaction from the night, but then he does remember, all of a sudden. An absolute vertigo slams into him, panic flooding his veins as he stares down the empty, quiet forest.

And this is when the Hermit Rescue Party finds him.

They only find Scar.

They only find Scar, and they instantly try to take him off world.

-- part II here

[jjunieboo]

The Lone Shadow

pairing: Bounty Hunter Yunho x Outlaw Seonghwa - (with a hint of woosan)

tag warnings: wild west au, smut, noncon, stalking, obsessed yh, dom yh, (bratty) sub hwa, gunplay, murder!, graphic violence, threats of violence, anal sex, degrading, coming inside, yunho is eeeeevil 😭, dead dove do not eat

summary: Seonghwa got himself in trouble with a bounty on his head. Unfortunately for him, the infamous Bounty Hunter has set his eyes on him, and no, it’s not for the gold reward.

disclaimer: This work does not represent any of the ATEEZ members in any way. This is purely created for fiction. Also, I do not condone to ANY of the actions displayed in this story. Please read at your own risk. MDNI!

wordcount: 6.6k

note: Idk about you guys but i still haven’t moved on from cowboy yh… & this fic is mostly improvised. Open for any thoughts & feedback! I want to become better at writing. Also, English is not my first language. Enjoy reading! 𐚁

(dedicated to mango, who also proofread this filth ♡︎.)

—

Seonghwa tore the wanted poster from the notice board. Not quite the nicest welcome upon entering the seemingly modest looking village he just sought refuge in. He gave the poster a final glance even though he already knew its details. A rough drawn sketch of him, with underneath bold letters announcing the high bounty on his head, including ‘dead or alive’. He adjusted the scarf covering his features, hoping to stay unrecognizable. Then, he mounted back on his brown-spotted horse in the hopes of finding a saloon still open at this late hour.

How he ended up wanted? Well, it was no surprise his so-called friends betrayed him and decided the gold was worth more than his companionship. But what he did not anticipate was the original ‘owner’ of the money to take it so personally. Going so far as wanting his head, with or without the rest of his body. Resulting in uncountable copies of his face being spread around towns on wanted posters.The worst part? He knew the bastard lacked the money to pay any bounty hunter for it. As it was in fact, stolen. Feeling exposed and shattered, Seonghwa was left with no choice but to escape town. Forced to flee and start life anew elsewhere. He never imagined his life turning to this. 

Honestly. it’s not like he enjoyed his bandit life. But poor life choices lead to desperate measures. At some point, stealing was the only option he had. It was pretty lame theft, wallets and jewelry from the upper class. Pick-pocketing is not something he was proud of doing, but it was easy money. Seonghwa preferred to work alone, naming himself ‘The Lone Shadow’, finding safety in solitude. His work was stealthy, avoiding any conflict as he was simply not good at it. Sure, he owned a gun, but that was only for emergencies. One day Seonghwa was approached by two bandits, offering him to join a side-hustle. Promising him a fair share. Seonghwa couldn’t resist his temptations, desperate for the coin. Deep down, he should have known better than to trust the two men. In the thievery world, their loyalty and promises were questionable. Since most bandits had simple intentions with their stolen money. Selfish desires like drugs, alcohol, gambling or sex. And of course that reflected in their personality. Just moments after the job, his ‘allies’ took the coin and ran off. They anonymously tipped off the authorities about Seonghwa’s appearance. Clearly in the hopes of keeping themselves out of trouble. So, now he was identified to the whole Wild West, leaving him without a single profit for it. 

Seonghwa took a sip from his refreshing drink, watching the waiter bring him his late dinner. He thankfully nodded. The Outlaw was cautious, continuously scanning his surroundings. He had yet to set up camp outside the village, but risked himself out here to enjoy the comfortable warmth of the saloon on this chilly late evening. Even though he had enough of his uncomfortable nights sleeping outside. The dangers were too high. So far, he managed to escape a few encounters. Luckily those occurred during busy daylight hours so it was easy to slip away. He had been on the run for a week or three, having traveled further up north to unexplored territories. Yet, every time he encountered a poster containing his face, he felt his stress levels rise. At times, he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, sensing that he was being pursued, but never finding the source. So Seonghwa restlessly kept on relocating, not stopping until he had traveled far enough.

Seonghwa finished his lukewarm food. A meal that tasted heavily to him, for someone that was nearly starving that is. He pulled his red scarf back up and rested his tense shoulders against the chair. Just a few more minutes, he told himself. Seonghwa’s eyes got lost staring at the candle on his wooden table. He wondered how much longer he could keep this up. He knew he messed up bigtime, and running away from problems never worked in his favor. But what choice did he have?

A sudden gust of wind blew into the saloon, nearly blowing out the candle. The heavy sound of boots followed, killing the peaceful silence. Seonghwa lifted his gaze cautiously, to not seem too alarmed , avoiding suspicion. A tall figure, dressed in a long black coat walked in. His cowboy hat covering his facial features. He headed straight to the bar. Seonghwa lowered his own stampede hat, sinking in his chair deeper. “Sir, we’re about to clos-” the bartender swallowed back his words upon apparently recognizing who was standing in front of him. The stranger didn’t respond and simply sat down. The bartender fetched him a drink right away. With the new heavy tension in the air, Seonghwa felt like this was bad news and his instinct told him he should leave.

Checking his pocket, he only found a few coins, and placed the amount on the table as payment for his meal, even leaving a small tip. But in a cruel twist of fate, one slid off and clattered loudly to the floor, rolling in the direction of the mysterious individual. As Seonghwa bent down, attempting to grab it, he uncontrollably glanced at his direction. The intimidating stranger had his head partially turned towards him, Seonghwa’s eyes meeting a cold, unyielding look in return. And then he knew. he knew he was in real trouble once the infamous ruthless bounty hunter was after him. 

Panic seared through him. He had heard the stories of this bounty hunter’s reputation. The living Grim Reaper. Known for his merciless tactics and usually going for the ‘dead’ in ‘dead or alive’. He was no hero to anyone, that much Seonghwa knew. He was convinced he usually chased the real bandits from gangs, not some average lone thief. But then he remembered the reward on his head.

Shit shit shit. Forget the coin, he had to leave. Right. Now. he hurried outside, untangling the rope attached to the hitch. Attempting to free his horse who was blissfully unaware of the danger lurking in the saloon. Inside, the hunter chugged his drink in one go and hit the glass back on the bar. All while Seonghwa stressfully fiddled with the knot he made in this cursed rope, his fingers trembling. When he finally got it undone the bat-winged doors to the saloon were pushed open. The hunter stepped outside, a ominous aura hanging around him. All Seonghwa could see was the silhouette of his figure, perhaps even the smallest glint of teeth displaying a smile on his face. Seonghwa wasted no more time and mounted his horse, who stamped nervously. He tugged the reins, kicked her sides and dashed off blindly into the night.

He raced as fast as his horse could let him and entered the darkness of the desert, leaving the town behind him. Wind whipping through his black hair as his own hat nearly flew off. Hooves pounded loudly on the gravel as the moon shone bright, the only source of light.

Behind him, he could sense the hunter closing in, locking his focus on Seonghwa. How was he this fast? Seems his little head start only lasted that long. 

Seonghwa’s heart raced with adrenaline. All while his only safety out of here started to pant louder by the minute, reaching her limit. He urged his steed to go faster. “Please, please!” he pleaded in desperation. Just further up ahead laid the woods, feeling confident in his skills to lose the hunter there, he only had to reach them. He had to. 

He could sense the hunter getting closer and closer, and for the second time he dared to peek behind him. Fuck, there was only around forty feet distance between he two. Watching him terrified, the hunter moved his hand to his side, reaching for an object attached to his hip. Intending on ending this chase.

Panic set in Seonghwa as he faced forward again. “Faster!” he cried, kicking his heels against his horse’s sides, feeling her pants turning more frantic. He tried to reach for his pistol in his pocket but struggled to do so due to the bumpy movement, it nearly slipped out of his hands. The gap between the two of them kept closing in. The forest was so near. His only hope of finding an advantage in this scenario. Just a bit further. He could outsmart the hunter there, he trained his horse well to handle difficult terrain. The trees could give him cover from any bullets.

Suddenly, Seonghwa felt himself get violently snatched off his horse .The hunter had aimed his lasso perfectly to capture his target. With a quick snap, air was knocked out of Seonghwa’s lungs. He hit the ground hard, hat flying off, his body spinning until he came to a halt. Dazed, he groaned before his chaser stopped and dismounted his horse in front of him. A set of heavy boots covering Seonghwa’s view. He instantly tried to get up in the hopes of finding his own horse to get away as quickly as possible. Adrenaline blocked out any pain he was feeling from his fall. But he couldn’t move his arms, as they were tightly constricted to his sides with the lasso. He stumbled pathetically, face front on the gravel. Seonghwa tried to look up, seeing his captor looking down at him. He could vaguely see the sinister grin appear on his face again. An uneasy feeling bubbled up in Seonghwa’s stomach. The bounty hunter bent forward, a scent of leather and gunpowder enveloping him as he tugged the lasso hard, rising Seonghwa from the ground to get closer into his face. He was met with hooded eyes, darker than the night itself. “Got you” he spoke for the first time, in a low, seductive voice. The hunt was over.

Seonghwa felt exposed, eyed by him in his now bound body. The hunter’s gloved hand slowly made his way to his torso. Seonghwa flinched, trying to pull back but he held him tightly in place. The hunter chuckled before taking out Seonghwa’s gun from his jacket, placing it in one of his own empty holsters. Hiding it behind his long fringed coat.

The moonlight caught glimpses of his sharp jawline and the edge of his lips that curved into a smirk. Seonghwa never wanted to live so badly now that he realized he was stripped from freedom. Not like he had a pleasant life to begin with, but it was still better than being behind bars, or worse, dead by the hands of this bounty hunter. He glanced up to the man in front of him who towered over him completely, seeming to drink in this sight of him, his victory.

“That was unnecessary. Could have just asked me to stop, you know?” Seonghwa attempted to humor him. Maybe if he complied he could find an opening to escape. “A little mercy, perhaps?” Seonghwa eyed the lasso in Yunho’s hands. Possibly befriending and not angering the man that held him captive was his only chance of survival. The bounty hunter let out a chuckle in return.

“Oh Lone Shadow, I don’t do mercy.” His eyes pierced right into his soul upon saying those words. “Or should I say.. Seonghwa’’ when his real name escaped his lips, Seonghwa felt like he wanted to sink through the ground. His captor grinned, seeming pleased with his reaction.

“How do you know my-?” He suddenly tugged Seonghwa back up to his feet, causing him to nearly stumble into his chest. Seonghwa could sense he reveled in his discomfort. This guy was a freak, that much he could tell. What else did he know about his life? With a sudden move, he pulled down Seonghwa’s scarf. The hunter seemed to marvel with delight. Seonghwa swallowed hard, trying to read him through his calm demeanor. He squirmed in the tightly secured rope, the cruel reminder of this reality. God how he wished he left the saloon just a bit earlier to have avoided all of this.

“My name is Yunho” the hunter shared. Seonghwa raised an eyebrow, and nearly scoffed. “Didn’t ask but nice to meet you!” He spat back sarcastically. So much for staying on friendly terms with him. 

“Since we are on a first name basis now. Perhaps you're willing to take me out of these ropes so we can have a conversation like normal people?”

Seonghwa could see Yunho twitch his eye, resulting in Seonghwa quickly moving on to his next technique of talking himself out of possible death. He discarded his sarcastic tone to replace it with a serious one.

“I promise you, I’m worth more alive than dead” which was, according to the posters, not true. Yunho turned around, whistled loudly to fetch Seonghwa’s horse, who had seemed to graze on some grass not far away.

“Let’s see if you can live up to that promise then.” Yunho answered, grin widening, sending chills through Seonghwa as he now forced this challenge upon him. 

- One week ago -

For Yunho, it was child’s play to track his new target. The outlaw seemed confident to hide in plain sight, thinking he was safe by simply wearing his scarf as a mask. His poor choice of surviving skills was proof enough for Yunho to conclude he was practically harmless. If he wanted, he could have ended his life with numerous opportunities. So, it was clear that something didn’t add up with the bounty on his head. Yunho has had more than enough experience with bandits to know the difference, sending plenty to their demise. The Lone Shadow was cautious, but simply bad at checking up on his surroundings. The outlaw’s behavior clearly did not match that of an experienced bandit. 

Observing him from a distance, following his routine, The Lone Shadow’s frustrated exhales upon finding yet another poster brought a smile to Yunho. The way his target would walk away defeated. It didn’t take long to figure out he was just a fragile thing. Maybe framed, was Yunho’s guess. His interest grew. He started following him around, town by town. During one night of patrolling the outlaw in his tent, Yunho noticed a fellow co-hunter sneaking out the bushes. He couldn’t have that, his target needed his sleep after all. The fellow hunter seemed convinced at his job. That was until Yunho appeared behind them, ending their life with practiced ease, a swift slice of his knife at their neck. They didn’t even see him coming. Probably too money hungry their guard was dropped, and their life for the taking. Sloppy.

He made sure to clean the mess, of course, he wouldn’t want to surprise the fugitive with a dead body right outside his tent next morning. But the thought of him witnessing the startled look on the outlaw’s face had tempted Yunho. Perhaps as a warning sign for him to be more careful. Though he discarded it, not wanting to create panic just yet. He couldn’t have him start acting reckless. Prolonging his ‘hunt’.

Yunho wondered how long he would keep this up before revealing himself. His mind racing with possibilities. He was so ripe for the taking. Watching the Lone Shadow struggle to get through the days entertained him, he wanted to get closer to the one who has captivated his attention. He craved to know everything about him. What put him in this situation, or who? Who was hiding behind the name Lone Shadow? Questions were piling up and he needed answers. Curiosity grew, and once his outlaw made it to a rather safe village. Yunho believed the Lone Shadow to at least stay alive for a few days without him needing to take care of his surroundings. And so far, he kept going in a straight line up north, exactly where Yunho wanted him to go. Plus, he was certain of tracking him back easily.

He took this opportunity to finally find some answers to his burning questions. Soon, Yunho promised himself, very soon, he would come for him. His heart raced at the thought as he set his plans in motion.

—

Seonghwa’s body felt sore from draping over Yunho’s horse, facing the gravel. He had no idea how long he had been in this position, still secured tight to Yunho’s rope attached to his belt. So bailing was not an option. Seonghwa’s boots were dangling in the air and he arched his back to look up, catching a glimpse of his own horse gently trailing behind, also tied to Yunho’s horse. Poor thing, he grew attached to her. His hunter would probably sell her. His eyes shifted to Yunho’s back, who was calmly riding his horse. He had been quiet since their trip to God knows where. If only his hands were free, Seonghwa might have been able to snatch a weapon from his satchel. To his knowledge, most hunters carried a few.

Just as Seonghwa was about to break the silence, Yunho suddenly stopped his tracks. “We’re here”. He dismounted his horse and pulled Seonghwa off as well. Making him stand on his feet again. His legs felt numb and he was slightly dizzy from hanging upside down for so long. As he steadied himself, Seonghwa took in the sight of a simple cabin in front of him. Nestled among towering trees, isolated and far from any traces of civilization.

Yunho brought the horses to the stalls. Seonghwa was forced to follow, dragged along by the rope that still linked him to Yunho’s belt. Everything about this felt so uncomfortable. “Why not just take me in like any other bounty hunter?” he asked bluntly as Yunho was securing the horses inside. Seonghwa tried to mask the fear bubbling inside him with a facade of defiance. He didn’t understand why Yunho hadn’t taken out his pistol yet, why he wasn’t rushing to collect his reward. Why was he still alive? This was supposed to be one of the most dangerous bounty hunters and now he was doing errands with him? Yunho walked back to the front door, Seonghwa right behind.

“At this hour?” he finally answered, as if not taking him seriously at all. He shoved a key inside the keyhole and unlocked the door, pushing it open to reveal a dark unlit interior. Yunho stepped in, Seonghwa initially remained at the door frame, but was pulled along inside. 

Yunho hit the lightswitch and unpacked some gear he had on him, placing them on the table. He took off his hat, revealing his dark brown hair. Then his hand found the silver pistol he took from Seonghwa and took it out of his holster. He inspected it up closely, admiring the subtle decorations. Floral carvings and Seonghwa’s initials. “What’s it’s story?” Yunho then asked, seeming genuinely interested. Seonghwa raised an eyebrow, confused by his change of persona. “Custom made, back when I still had a life” he answered nonchalantly. He never used the gun before, but Yunho didn’t need to know that. 

“You take good care of it. It’s in a good state” Yunho added. Seonghwa felt the urge to roll his eyes. Like what, was he supposed to thank him? What was this weird attempt of small talk? But yes, he was going to miss his gun that was now in his captor’s hands.

“Come with me” Yunho tugged him back outside. As if Seonghwa even had a choice. He was dragging him like a dog on a leash to the backyard. Seonghwa had a bad feeling about this. Yunho stopped in front of a root cellar and unlocked the door, revealing a wooden staircase leading down. It was pitch black, like a void. Yeah, hell no. Seonghwa held a firm stance. If he gets murdered after all, preferably not in a creepy cellar. But what could he do against the man in front of him? His arms were still tight around the lasso, he had no weapon on him, and had no idea where he was. Yunho turned on the lightswitch, bright light flickering down in the basement. Seonghwa swore he could hear a noise coming from down there, something like a gasp. He held people there? Panic set back into Seonghwa as he was now pulling away from the entrance. Yunho didn’t even glance back at him and tugged him back. “Don’t be difficult," he warned, the same low tone he used when he had just taken his freedom a few hours ago.

Seonghwa nervously gulped as he was faced with two figures. They both lay on the ground, shivering from the cold, clothes covered in dry blood. And both of them were blindfolded with a brown simple sack over their heads. Their wrists and ankles were tightly bound. One of them was whimpering. “On your knees, both of you,” Yunho's hard voice echoed in the cellar and proceeded to stride towards them. The two men did as ordered, one of them grunted, seeming, irritated? Yunho put his attention back to Seonghwa, who tried to process what was happening in front of him. “See this as a little present” with that he pulled off both sacks simultaneously, revealing the two bandits that ruined Seonghwa’s life. His mouth fell wide open, and so did theirs. 

“San? Wooyoung?” Seonghwa was shocked with disbelief. Both of them looked terrible. San had a split lip and it seemed his nose had been bleeding, possibly broken. Wooyoung had a black eye. A nervous smile appeared on Wooyoung’s face. ‘H-hey hey! Lone Shadow!’ he forced his laugh. ‘Good to see y-!’ Yunho’s strong hand gave his head a shove forward, urging him to shut up. A signal well understood by Wooyoung.  Yunho returned back to Seonghwa and slowly started untying him. The outlaw tried to process what was going on, Yunho carelessly continued as if this was a normal day at his job. “They were a pain in the ass to drag here, but I thought it would be fair for you to seal their fate.”

As the rope fell to the floor with a dull thud, Seonghwa could finally feel his tense limbs again. His arms, once restrained but now freed. The moment of relief was short lived. He felt the weight of a gun being pressed firmly into his palm. Yunho had placed it there, his grip strong. His gloved hand covered Seonghwa’s hand completely as he moved the firearm in the direction of the two men on their knees. Seonghwa’s heart raced as he tried to grasp the gravity of the situation he was put in. Yunho leaned forward, whispering in his ear, his breath hot. “Go on then” his hand left his as he took a deliberate step backwards.

Seonghwa hated both of them. They ruined his life! San looked at him, split lip pouting with mercy, sniffing and sobbing. Wooyoung was quiet for once. The same Wooyoung, who was usually filled with arrogance, now stared at Seonghwa, as if daring him to act. Seonghwa’s gun kept switching between the two now powerless men. He felt angry, but why was his arm trembling? Killing them wasn’t going to fix the bounty on his head. Not that that even mattered now that he was captured anyway. But why would Yunho give him this opportunity? How did he know this duo? 

“C'mon then!" Wooyoung suddenly shouted angrily, as if he already accepted death. “Rather you than that fucking psycho.” Seonghwa flinched at his sudden outburst. San just started wailing louder. “Do it. Can’t listen to this guy’s ugly sobbing anymore” Wooyoung nudged his head to his partner in crime. San continued pleading, as he began stammering. "We’re sorry- I’m sorry!" followed by a list of excuses, each one more pitiful than the last.

Seonghwa felt trickles of sweat forming on his brow. Why couldn’t he do it? Why couldn’t he pull the trigger? Damn it! He didn’t want to become a murderer, he swore to only do it in self-defense and right now the only danger is the man behind him. Surviving means his captor had to die, that much was clear. Well, this might be his only chance now, he had to take it. Seonghwa gulped and just as he intended to turn his gun to Yunho, he suddenly snapped it out of his hands.

“Can’t do it, huh?” he taunted, his voice sickly sweet. Without another word, he determinedly made his way towards Wooyoung, jammed the pistol inside his mouth and pulled the trigger. Pulled it out from what was remaining of his head, moved to San and proceeded to do the same. Two loud bangs, bodies fell, blood sprayed the walls in a dark red, and then silence.

Seonghwa stood frozen in shock, heart pounding against his ribs. “Finally, quiet” Yunho wiped the pistol clean against one of the sacks on the floor. The gun was clean, but his outfit and face were covered in blood spats. Then he looked back at Seonghwa, with a wide eerie smile that sent him shivers. “Like I thought, you don’t have the guts, but that’s what makes you entertaining.”

Seonghwa glanced back at the lifeless bodies, the floor slowly turning crimson red. He had no words for the horror that just unfolded. Yunho casually placed the gun back in its holster as if it was nothing. Clearly having done these gruesome acts plenty of times. “This kind of treachery deserves to be dealt with, don’t you think?” the sadistic smile not leaving him. 

“You’re mad,” Seonghwa spat out before thinking about the possible consequences. “Oh honey, but this is all for you," he purred, slowly making his way over to Seonghwa as he removed his bloodied glove, gently brushing Seonghwa’s sleek hair aside to caress his cheek. His hand felt warm, it felt out of place given the situation. Seonghwa flinched at his touch, causing Yunho to chuckle softly. “Sensitive..” Seonghwa backed away slowly, looking at him with disgust. He knew he was a cold hearted murderer, but seeing him actually perform the cruel act in person made Seonghwa want to vomit. However, now that he was free from his lasso, he felt the tiniest flicker of hope. Yunho’s hand was left in the air, watching him intently, curious to see how he would react.

“Look, I appreciate the.. effort..” Seonghwa spoke, refusing to look back at his fellow, now dead bandits. “You can keep the gun, it’s real silver. Just let me go, ok?” Yunho’s smile disappeared. Seonghwa didn’t know which side of him was scarier. “Believe me, leave, and you’ll be dead by tomorrow," he warned. As if, Seonghwa thought. Yunho felt irritated, both at Seonghwa’s stupidness and the fact he was being unthankful.

Ignoring his warning, Seonghwa sprinted upstairs to the door that led outside. He didn’t know how he got this cocky, maybe it was the belief of Yunho keeping him alive for some fucked up reason that gave him this sense of confidence. He’ll get his horse and will travel even further, as long as he’s away from this place. Away from this maniac.

Just when he grabbed for the doorknob, a sudden force shoved him hard against the door, pinning him between the solid wood and his body. Seonghwa's cheek squished painfully against the surface. “You're so ungrateful, you know that?” Yunho's voice was low, a mix of anger and something darker. He pressed his big hand down on Seonghwa’s head with such force he grew fear of breaking his skull. It shut him up momentarily. “You’d be dead already if it weren't for me.” Yunho didn’t anticipate Seonghwa to show him this side of brattiness, but sure, if needed, he can force, or better put, fuck that out of him. 

“What did you expect?” Seonghwa suddenly felt a rage overcome him. ‘That I would go on my knees and thank you? I never asked for your help!”. Yunho tightened his grip, yanking his head away from the door only to smash it right back, causing Seonghwa to let out a painful scream. His head throbbing with pain. “You’ve got an awfully bad mouth for someone who doesn't even have the guts to fire a gun” Yunho hissed and pulled him back by his hair, breathing on his neck. Seonghwa tried to brace himself for another hit. “Time to teach you some manners.” With a swift kick, he flung the door open and dragged Seonghwa back to the cabin, his hand entangled in his hair. He struggled and scratched at Yunho’s strong arm. Feeling like a kitten grabbed by their neck, aimlessly trying to free themselves. Back inside Seonghwa was hurled to the hard floor. He scrambled to rise until a heavy boot clashed on his chest, pinning him back to the ground with brutal force. Seonghwa wheezed out, but continued thrashing around, trying to pry his boot off of him.

“Get off!” his voice cracking. Yunho kept him in place, looming over him, putting more pressure upon him instead as he placed both hands on each of his pistol holsters. That of his own, and his new gift from his outlaw. With a swift, fluid movement, he drew both out, aiming them at Seonghwa, who’s eyes widened in fear as he stopped.

“Which one to have fun with…” Yunho mused to himself, admiring his guns and pretended to be ignoring Seonghwa’s presence. He moved his boot lower, applying pressure on his groin. Seonghwa gasped at the sudden unwanted feeling. The heel of Yunho’s boot painfully crushed him, a throbbing ache swelling up in his balls. Seonghwa held his breath, holding back tears from the intense torment. He refused to give Yunho the satisfaction of seeing him cry. Yunho took a final glance at both weapons. A choice made easily, as he kept the sleek silver gun, tucking the other one back.

He directed it back at Seonghwa. “Take off your clothes” he demanded. Seonghwa’s heart sank at those words as Yunho lifted his foot, a cruel invitation for him to comply. “Y-you can’t be serious.” Seonghwa stuttered as he tried to crawl backwards on his elbows, away from him. “Hm?” Yunho taunted, he smiled maliciously as he hovered above him, locking his outlaw’s torso between his legs. He leaned down, tapping the gun against Seonghwa’s firmly closed lips. 

“Is this not serious to you? Do you enjoy complicating your own fate?” he mocked, as he forced the tip of the gun inside his mouth before he could talk back again. Seonghwa was overwhelmed with the sudden intrusion as he tasted the cold steel of his own gun. Yunho pressed the barrel deeper, past his teeth, a choking gag escaping Seonghwa. “Do you like it? The thought of me ending your pathetic life with just a flick of my finger?” Seonghwa's memory was flashed with the images of San and Wooyoung's final moments as Yunho replicated the scene.

He felt his stomach twist, not sure if it was from Yunho’s degrading words, the boot from just now or the gun down his throat. Yunho eyes gleamed with delight, seeing enough proof in Seonghwa’s terrified yet defiant look to conclude he was made for him. He slowly pulled the gun out of his mouth, coated in his saliva. “You ugly thing, guess you really need help with everything.” In a flash, Yunho pulled him up by his collar and dragged him to the table, several tools of his equipment falling from it. Seonghwa held onto the table edges in protest, but Yunho easily overpowered him and forced him on his back. He roughly unbuckled Seonghwa’s belt. “Don’t!” he yelled. The outlaw panicky tried to block his hands, resulting in a hard slap against his cheek. Stunning him momentarily at the burning sensation. Yunho took this chance and pulled down his jeans, welcoming the erection that was hiding under Seonghwa’s underwear. Shame fell over Seonghwa upon Yunho finding out. His cheeks flushing as he didn’t know where to look. Heavily embarrassed by the fact that Yunho was responsible for his hardon. But Yunho drank in the sight with delight. He discarded Seonghwa from his boots and remaining clothes, then grabbed his chin firmly, forcing his eyes on his. “So you were turned on by it.” Yunho lifted his legs over his own shoulders, giving him a good view.

Before Seonghwa could react, Yunho pressed the head of the gun against his hole. He felt his muscles twitch involuntarily. Seonghwa sputtered in terror. “W-wait hold up!”. Slowly, Yunho applied pressure, allowing the tip of the pistol to slip inside. “It’s so tight” Yunho spoke with sick interest. Seonghwa let out a loud gasp, clenching his hole around the barrel as it invaded his private part. He tugged at Yunho’s arm, nails digging in his skin. The bounty hunter didn’t even flinch at it. 

Seonghwa’s complete body tensed up. This can’t actually be happening. His breathing intensified, bringing him to a near hyperventilating state. “If you don’t loosen up now, it’s not going to get any easier for you soon” Yunho teased, another side of him Seonghwa was now introduced to. How was he supposed to relax in his situation? Especially with that new information? He knew the sick fuck did it on purpose, he wanted him to hurt. Got off of it. Yunho pushed it deeper inside, Seonghwa pulled his head back, squeezing his eyes shut. “How cute, and it’s not even halfway in” he spoke low. “F-fuck you” Seonghwa managed to get out. It only spurred Yunho on more.

He used his fingers to spread his rim further open, pushing the barrel to a deeper point. Inch by agonizing inch. Seonghwa tried to keep quiet, but still let out a small moan with his lips pursed. Something Yunho saw as a challenge. He moved the pistol out, leaving his hole empty for a second only before violently pushing it all the way back in. Seonghwa’s cock twitched at the impact. A grin returned to Yunho as he leaned forward, invading Seonghwa’s personal space some more. “Look at you” he gave his cock a sloppy slap before giving it a few pumps. His own pants tighten upon hearing Seonghwa’s pathetic held back moans. Yunho wanted to break that spirit, hear his cute little gasps more. Seonghwa felt the gun leaving his body as Yunho tossed it aside without a care. 

The bounty hunter unbuckled his own belt and pulled down his pants and underwear in a swift movement. His long, big, erect member springing free. Greeting Seonghwa with need. Precum dripping from the tip. Seonghwa's survival-mode activated as he jerked up and tried to thrash himself away from Yunho. To his surprise, he let go of Seonghwa which he did not anticipate causing him to fall from the table with a loud thud. Seonghwa's eyes met with his used gun, laying a few feet away from him. He jumped towards it, grabbed it, turned around and aimed at Yunho. This time, he wasted no time to pull the trigger. Ready to save himself out of this mystery he was put in.

Only for nothing to happen. Just the sound click of an empty barrel. Seonghwa tried again, but to no avail. “Fuck!” The guy had unloaded it when he didn’t notice!  A loud laugh filled the room and Seonghwa swallowed hard. “So you’d try and kill your savior? The one who has been watching your back for the past weeks? But not the ones who put you there in the first place?” There was a shift in Yunho’s expression. He made him.. angry. He made the relentless bounty hunter angry. No, not annoyed, not pissed. Angry. “Oh, you’re going to wish you were dead," Yunho's veiny arm lunged forward to Seonghwa’s neck, dragging him to the carpet a few feet away from them.

Once dropped, Seonghwa tried to crawl away on all fours but was grabbed by his waist in an iron grip and pulled back. “No, wait!” Yunho aligned himself, not wasting any second and forced his cock into Seonghwa's quivering hole. His size going lengths the pistol could never reach. He savored the feeling of Seonghwa’s tight hole stretching out to adjust to him. Seonghwa screamed, his body shivering uncontrollably. It was music to Yunho’s ears. Seonghwa choked back tears. It felt like he was being split open. It hurt, it hurt so bad.

“You do realize you're nothing without me?” Yunho leaned over, covering Seonghwa’s body beneath him to whisper in his ear, his tone emotionless. “Actually, it’s no wonder you're wanted dead. You’re a fucking piece of shit” he spat. Just when things couldn’t get worse, Yunho began pumping in and out of him. Revlishing in his agony. Seonghwa could no longer hold back his moans and cries against Yunho’s hard, rough thrusts. 

“S-stop, enough. 'P-please." Yunho slapped his asscheek hard. Once, twice. The pain was unbearable. Yunho moved his hands from Seonghwa’s sides to his neck, fingers tightening around it to pull him closer to him, arching his back as he increased his speed. “Aww, begging now are we? You sound pathetic’’ Yunho spoke through his pants, driven by his lust for Seonghwa. He finally had him falling apart. The lewd slapping noises filled the room. Seonghwa whimpered as he tried to control his very limited breathing ability, tears streaming down his face. He tried to disconnect himself from the assault. Resisting the underlying pleasure Yunho forced upon him.

Yunho moved his hands from his neck to his mouth, covering it as he bended him even closer to him, reaching even deeper inside him. Seonghwa’s spent cock spasmed at it. It felt like he was losing his mind.

He used his remaining strength to try and pull off Yunho’s hands clasped over his mouth. Yunho abruptly withdrew his throbbing cock, watching Seonghwa squirm below him. Oh? So he still had fight left in him. Yunho was far from done with him as this only fueled his desire. He wanted to fuck him until he stopped resisting. He sank his cock back in, doubling his effort. His outlaw continued his now muffled cries. Who had a false hope of thinking his torture was over. How wrong he was. “God, I could just snap your neck now.” Seonghwa instantly climaxed upon hearing his gruesome words, his untouched hard cock spurting his seed on the carpet. Feeling betrayed by his own body. Yunho however, simply let out a laugh and continued following his own high, pounding relentlessly. It was overwhelming to Seonghwa, the humiliation, the threats, the fear, the pain.

Yunho’s own release was near, especially after witnessing Seonghwa’s pitiful display. “Take this.” Only a few more thrusts were needed to send him over the edge as he brutally slammed deep inside him. His fat cock spilling his cum far up his hole. Yunho shot his head backwards, moaning deeply in pleasure as he remained seated within him. Releasing all he has to give. He let go of Seonghwa’s mouth, whose head fell forward in defeat.

Then Yunho finally pulled out, dropping Seonghwa’s now limb body to the carpet, stroking his own slick cock a few more times. He watched as his cum seeped out of Seongha’s hole. The one he abused with sick fascination. It leaking down his spread legs, his pride broken. 

“Why?” Seonghwa asked, voice hoarse from screaming. Yunho leaned over, pulling away a strand of Seonghwa's sweaty hair locks. Then he moved it back to his wet cheek, stroking it almost delicately. Seonghwa panted heavily, trying to catch his breath.

“Why, you ask?" Yunho answered. “Shouldn’t petty thieves pay for their crimes?” He rose up, looking down at him.

“Know this, Seonghwa.” Seonghwa felt another wave of unwelcome arousal rush through him at the sound of his name. “I’m far from done with you” promising him a life he couldn’t imagine getting worse than it already was.

_

[yumeka-sxf]

It's time for another merch post, my biggest one yet since I went kind of crazy for merch in Dec/Jan...my wallet is still recovering 😵‍💫 (also, I made scans of some of this merch in a previous post here if you haven't already seen).

First is one of two Mercari orders. I only intended to get the movie booklet (which I've posted about previously) but added some more stuff to make the shipping worthwhile!

I got the towel with the cruise arc outfits that's part of the merch line for the Tokai Steamship collab. It's a bit small, but I still love it!

I always liked the art for the Tower Records collab, so I got a poster! (the seller also included stickers and postcards).

I also like the art for the Cruise Buffet collab, so I got a paper placemat which makes a great poster! The seller shipped it in this nice plastic cover, so I decided to keep that on to protect it (they included a postcard too, which will be part of my next miscellaneous scans post 😁)

The below acrylic stands were recently released as part of the movie merch line (sold at theaters I believe). Anya had a couple different designs, including one where she's in a director's chair and one where she has 3D glasses. But I picked the one where she's eating popcorn since Bond is with her (gotta always get the whole family when I can!)

A couple weeks ago I took a trip to Animate, where they just happened to be having a SxF promotion where you'd get postcards of the new camping designs if you spent a certain amount on SxF merchandise. I bought the four camping acrylics, which was more than enough to get all the postcards 😊

Also picked up these two magazines, since a Kinokuniya store was at that mall as well (scans of these coming soon!)

Below is the second Mercari order!

I absolutely love these painting acrylics! They're definitely one of my favorite sets ❤️

Some acrylics from the movie! The big one in the middle is really cool, the background is reflective but transparent too.

I love the Waku Waku Park designs, but was only able to find acrylics of Anya & Bond. Hope to add Loid and Yor to the collection one day. So I just got a clear file in the meantime, lol.

Couldn't resist this adorable CODE: White overnight bag! I decided to use it to hold my many TCG decks 😅

And lastly (kinda of) was my usual Amiami preoder!

The "Anya helping with chores" designs are so cute, I got them as both acrylic stands (from Amiami) and reusable bags (from the aforementioned Mercari order).

I got more acrylics and postcards of the lovely kimono designs ❤️ (postcards scans coming soon!)

As I posted about previously, I got the Operation Diary video game along with these nice goodies that came with the preorder! (that keychain is rare official Twiyor merch 👀)

And I got even more TCG accessories! (another set of sleeves, a few deck boxes, a card box, and card holder).

The reason I've been getting so much TCG stuff, as well as why I said the Amiami order was only "sort of" the last of my merch from the past couple months, is because I had also preordered a case of SxF Weiss Schwarz cards! I preordered it back in August, and the set officially released in English last week...but that will be covered in another post, so stay tuned~

[mochi-mika]

"I'm not upset."

The worn linoleum floor squeaked under sneakers as the students navigated the labyrinth of lockers lining the hallway. The faint smell of floor cleaner mingled with the familiar aroma of adolescent sweat and cafeteria food. Fluorescent lights buzzed softly overhead, casting a harsh glare on the polished surfaces and the occasional scuff mark that told tales of hurried footsteps.

Students bustled around, their voices merging into a cacophony of laughter, gossip, and the occasional shout. The walls were plastered with colorful posters announcing upcoming dances, club meetings, and sports events, each one a vibrant testament to the lively spirit of the school.

Isagi squeezed past the hurried students so he could get to the cafeteria. Lunch had started not too long ago but he was held up by the teacher for his far from great Science grade. No matter what the teacher tried, the boy seemed set on making a subpar grade. He honestly couldn't be bothered to get anything better in the subject because he already came to terms with the fact that he was pretty terrible at it. At least he knew he wasn't destined to find the cure for cancer.

He soon made it to the cafeteria and grabbed his lunch tray. His mother always offered to make him lunch but his always politely declined and settled for cafeteria food. Well that and whatever you'd bring him. That's right. Where were you? He started scanning the room as best as he could as he grabbed a bottled water and left the servers.

He walked around for a bit before coming to terms with the fact that you weren't in the cafeteria. Great. Now he'd have to go searching for you. He took the bottled water and the wrapped sandwich and ditched the lunchtray on a random empty table before leaving the Cafe. Maybe you were in the regular spot.

He exited the building and walked around till he was at the back of the school's main building. There were a couple students there, nothing compared to how many were inside. He looked around for a bit before he spotted you chatting with one of your other friends, causing him to smile a bit before approaching.

"(n/n)! Couldn't you tell me you'd be back here?" he greeted with a smile. You turned and waved at him. "I did tell you that, you just didn't listen to me." you replied before turning back to your friend to continue chatting. He sat on the grass near you and leaned his back against yours before he finally began eating.

It was nice. The soft grass against his fingers and the light breeze brushing through his hair. It was comforting. What wasn't, however, was the fact that you just didn't seem to want to stop talking to your friend or even include Isagi in the conversation. That was definitely making him tick a bit but he tried to ignore it.

Isagi had fully come to realization over the past month that he had feelings for you. Which feelings specifically were difficult to pinpoint exactly. And these feelings of his just couldn't accept the idea of you ignoring him. To be frank, he hated it when anyone ignored him and that feeling only intensified when it came to you.

The bell rang to end lunch and you were still yapping your face off to your other friend. Talk about annoying. Isagi got up from his seated position and dusted off his uniform. You turned to him and stuck out your hand for him to help you up which caused him to roll his eyes. "Oh, now you wanna acknowledge me." he huffed before pulling you up. You cleaned off your skirt before making eye contact with him. "What are you talking about, Ichi?" You asked with a quirked brow. "Nothing. Let's just head to class." he spoke as he grabbed your backpack and started walking.

You both shared the last classes together so you were able to notice his pouty little expression. Honestly, you thought it was cute but decided to leave it be for the rest of the school day.

Hours passed by and school was over. The students filtered out of the building in record time. Both Isagi and (y/n) left the compound together except somebody was pressed. "Ichi, what's wrong?" you asked as you both walked. "Nothings wrong." he spoke as he looked up at the sky. He was never a good liar. "You're a terrible liar you know. You're clearly upset." you battered as you fanned him off. "I'm not upset." he spoke lowly as he frowned a bit. "Right, and that's why you're pouting." you retorted earning a scoff from the grumpy boy.

The sun was scorching down on you both and you guys were sweating. "Let's take a break." he suggested as he sat on a bench just under a mostly shady tree. You down next to him and pulled out your hand fan from your bag before switching it on. "So, you wanna tell me why your not upset?" you asked sarcastically. "I am not!" he huffed again making you laugh. "Sure you big baby." you teased.

A few moments of silence passed before he leaned his head down to rest on your shoulder. "You were ignoring me earlier." he mumbled, knowing that sooner or later he'd tell you. "When?" you asked as you angled the small fan at him a little. "During lunch, when you were talking with your other friend." he frowned a bit again as he spoke the latter part of his sentence.

"Jealous?" You teased earning an elbow to your side and causing laughter to erupt. He loved that sound your carefree laughter. He didn't care how weird or irregular your laugh was, he loved hearing it because you left you. "Okay, okay. Maybe that was a bit harsh." you spoke with a smile. "I'm sorry for ignoring you. I know how much of an attention whore you are." you giggled a bit before he pinched your arm. "I should unfriend you for the way you treat me you know?" he replied with a amused smirk forming. "Oh please, Ichi. Who's gonna talk to you then?" you spoke with a smug expression.

[toxiccaves]

Hi sorry I hope this isn't too random but I was looking through your art and you mentioned there may or may not be an official dagwon anthology or comic? Is there anyway to read it? Love you art btw!

Hi!! Aww thank you! 🥺 For those Dagwon comics, I do believe they're official. They were published by Nora Comics DX/PockeSeries Gakken and Rapport. Rapport I know published other sunrise works. Back in the day, these kinda things were a little more between fan works AND official... given the fact these read kinda.. gay. It made it hard to believe these may be semi official lol.

The Dagwon 1st and 2nd anthologies by NoraDX are on internet archive. The first of these has a very cute Lian comic that I adore, and the second has a cute inside cover illustration!!

The ones by Rapport titled Highschool Hero I do not believe are online. Their covers look like this, and they have a few very nice mini posters included!! I can try to scan them sometime, but they were quite cheap on Buyee (Yahoo Auctions or Mercari.) If you can manage to find them.

Unfortunately though, besides one other gag comic with Lian, there's next to no robots in any of these. But if you're just looking for the kids goofing off, they're some good reads! And the color illustrations included in all of them are very nice ☺️

[blush-boulevard]

𝓓𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓶 𝓓𝓪𝔂

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐖𝐎𝐍𝐁𝐈𝐍 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑- Y/N's life takes an extraordinary turn when she wins a contest to spend a day with Park Wonbin, her favorite member of the boy band RIIZE.

female reader / park Wonbin x reader / fluff / romance / idol au / RIIZE / park wonbin

word count: 1582

@blush-boulevard｜𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬｜𝑅𝒰𝐿𝐸𝒮 𝒜𝒩𝒟 𝒢𝒰𝐼𝒟𝐸𝐿𝐼𝒩𝐸𝒮｜𝕮𝖔𝖒𝖒𝖎𝖘𝖘𝖎𝖔𝖓𝖘｜𝓚-𝓹𝓸𝓹 𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽｜𝓡𝓮𝓰𝓾𝓵𝓪𝓻 𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽

In the quietude of her small, meticulously organized bedroom, Y/N's heart thumped like a drum in a silent room. She stared at the computer screen, her eyes widening as she read the email for the umpteenth time. The words "You've won!" gleamed back at her, as if trying to penetrate the fog of disbelief shrouding her mind. Her trembling hands hovered over the keyboard, unsure of what to type in response. Winning a contest to spend a day with Park Wonbin, her favorite member of the up-and-coming boy band Riize, seemed too good to be true. She had been a devoted fan since their debut last year, her walls adorned with their posters and her playlist an endless loop of their catchy tunes. Yet, here she was, the shy girl who barely spoke to anyone, receiving an opportunity that fans dreamt of.

The room was a testament to her dedication: every corner held a piece of their merchandise, from posters to lightsticks, to an impressive collection of photocards that grew with every comeback. Her heart fluttered as she imagined herself standing next to Wonbin, the charismatic lead dancer with the captivating smile that could melt even the iciest of hearts. The fanfic scenarios she had read and secretly penned played out in her mind, each one more surreal than the last. But this was real. This was happening.

Her thoughts raced as she scanned the email for any signs of a prank or mistake. The instructions were clear: she would be picked up from her home and whisked away for a day filled with excitement and adventure. The email included a strict dress code and a list of items to bring, as well as a gentle reminder to behave appropriately. The reality of the situation was sinking in, and with it, a tsunami of anxiety. Y/N had never been one for the spotlight, preferring the safety of the shadows to the glaring stage lights. But she had promised herself she would seize this chance, no matter how daunting the prospect.

Taking a deep, shaky breath, she began to plan her outfit. Each article of clothing was carefully chosen to reflect her personality while adhering to the guidelines. She wanted to make a good impression, to be memorable in a sea of screaming fans. As she laid out her ensemble on the bed, she caught a whiff of her favorite strawberry body spray, and a smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. It was going to be a special day, one that she would cherish forever. The butterflies in her stomach danced with anticipation as she thought about the adventures that awaited her.

The day of the meeting arrived with the subtlety of a meteor shower. Y/N's nerves were strung tighter than the strings on a guitar. She checked and rechecked her outfit in the mirror, her reflection showing a mix of excitement and trepidation. Her hair fell in soft waves around her shoulders, and she had applied just enough makeup to enhance her natural beauty without seeming overdone. She clutched her phone, filled with pre-written questions and conversation starters, hoping they would be enough to bridge the gap between her and her idol.

The doorbell rang, echoing through the house like a starting gun at a race. Her heart leaped, and she took a final deep breath before descending the stairs. The world outside her bedroom was a blur as she approached the door, her hand hovering over the doorknob. With a final, decisive twist, she opened the door to reveal a smiling manager holding a bouquet of her favorite flowers. The adventure had begun, and Y/N could only hope she was ready for the rollercoaster of emotions that lay ahead. She stepped outside, her heart racing, and was immediately swept into the luxurious car that would take her to a day she would never forget.

The drive to the meeting location was a blur of scenery and nervous chatter with the friendly manager. Y/N's mind raced with the endless possibilities of what the day could hold. Would it be a simple meet-and-greet, or would there be something more? She had read stories of fans forming deep connections with their idols, but she had never dared to dream it could happen to her. The car pulled up to a picturesque park, and she was led to a secluded area where a figure sat on a bench, shrouded by the shade of a large tree. As she approached, the figure looked up, revealing none other than Park Wonbin.

Wonbin's eyes lit up as he saw her, and she felt a warmth spread through her chest that she had never felt before. He stood, extending a hand to help her onto the bench beside him. His touch was gentle, his smile genuine. They talked about music, their favorite foods, and even their shared love for obscure indie movies. The conversation flowed as naturally as a river, and Y/N found herself relaxing in his company. He listened intently to her every word, as if she were the most fascinating person he had ever met. She could feel the chemistry between them, an unspoken connection that grew stronger with each shared laugh and secret glance.

As the sun began to dip below the horizon, painting the sky with a palette of oranges and pinks, they decided to take a stroll around the lake. The cool breeze whispered through the leaves, and the sound of water lapping against the shore created a soothing backdrop to their conversation. Wonbin playfully tossed a pebble into the water, watching the ripples expand outward. Y/N mimicked his action, and they both laughed as their stones created a miniature battle of splashes. The tension grew palpable, the air thick with unspoken words. He looked at her, and she knew the moment had arrived. He leaned in, his eyes never leaving hers, and pressed his soft, warm lips to hers. It was a kiss that seemed to transcend time, a gentle promise of what could be.

Their eyes met, and she saw in his gaze a reflection of the feelings she had been too afraid to admit. The world around them faded away, leaving only the two of them standing on the edge of a new chapter in their lives. As they pulled away, Wonbin wrapped his jacket around her shoulders, a silent gesture that spoke volumes. He whispered, "This is just the beginning." And with those words, Y/N knew that the fan meeting she had won was not just a fleeting moment but the start of a journey that would forever change the course of her life.

The day was filled with activities that seemed plucked from her wildest dreams. They shared ice cream cones, their laughter mingling with the sweet summer air. They rode the Ferris wheel, their hands clutching tightly together as they reached the top, the city sprawling out beneath them like a glittering sea. He whispered sweet nothings into her ear as they danced to a street musician's serenade, and she felt as if she were floating on a cloud. Each moment was more magical than the last, leaving her in a daze of happiness.

As the day drew to a close, they found themselves at a quiet café, nestled between the bustling streets of the city. The warm light spilling out from the windows cast a soft glow on their faces as they sat across from each other, sipping on hot chocolate. The conversation grew deeper, sharing stories of their pasts and dreams for the future. It was as if they had known each other for years, not just a handful of hours. Wonbin spoke of his passion for music, the sacrifices he had made, and the joy he found in performing. Y/N shared her own aspirations, her love for writing, and the comfort she found in his lyrics.

The clock ticked away the moments, each one more precious than the last. Finally, it was time for her to return home. Wonbin walked her to the car, his arm draped casually over her shoulder. As she slid into the backseat, he leaned in, pressing one last kiss to her forehead. "Thank you for an amazing day," he murmured, his voice a gentle caress. She clutched his jacket tightly, the scent of him still lingering on the fabric. The car pulled away, and she watched him shrink in the distance, the weight of his gaze on her like a warm embrace.

The ride home was a blur of replayed moments and racing thoughts. What did it all mean? Was it just a perfect day with an idol playing the part of a charming suitor, or was there something more? The kiss lingered on her lips, a promise unfulfilled. She knew that she had fallen for him, the shy fan girl who had never dared to dream of romance with a celebrity. Yet, here she was, her heart singing a tune she had never heard before.

As she stepped out of the car, the cool evening air a stark contrast to the warmth of Wonbin's embrace, she made a silent vow. No matter what the future held, she would not let this day be the end of their story. With a smile that stretched from ear to ear, she closed the door behind her, ready to face whatever came next. For now, she had a secret to cherish, a memory to hold onto, and a hope that maybe, just maybe, fairy tales could come true, even for someone as ordinary as her.

[floodkiss]

A couple weeks ago, I led a zine making workshop/Palestinian solidarity event for my local Asian racial solidarity group. I gave a primer on zines and DIY as well as the political roots of DIY publishing, and some tutorials. The theme was reconnecting to resistance in an open learning circle since the Asian continent has a long and wide breadth history of resistance. We provided zine making supplies and I brought both some Palestinian zines and a curated collection of examples from my personal zine library! It was also potluck style.

It was kind of interesting leading this workshop! I don't consider myself to be an expert on revolutionary histories, there's a lot of theory and info to catch up on, but I read a lot of PFLP and Palestinian resistance writing when I was in my undergrad because I was able to meet Joe Sacco who was the cartoonist who published Footnotes in Gaza and Palestine (around 2017?). I also designed some posters for his Toronto visit in partnership with the TPFF. Most significantly, I read Strategy for the Liberation of Palestine by the PFLP - it is both a historical document and a live program that lays out the fundamentals of Palestinian liberation as well as localized analysis (160~ pages). There were Asian people in attendance originating from all over the continent and of varying faiths but no one was familiar with historic Palestinian resistance, only with the current narrative about israhelli occupation - so of course I was happy to to talk about Ghassan Kanafani, Leila Khaled, and the PFLP and the historic 3rd world solidarity movements across Asia!

Most people weren't familiar with zines either, so I was also very sparkly-eyed in info dumping about zines to the room! One of the participants brought musakhan rolls which are a traditional Palestinian dish... they were SO yummy... I did have more than I should have... and they included the recipe as one of the zine pages!!! There were also many Filipinos present resulting in me going home with a lot of leftover turon (it helped me survive my ongoing depressive episode in April lol)

Overall it was so nice having conversations with others regardless of where they were at in their politicization journey. There is always more to learn, and more time to spend with one another...and we can all grow together too 🫶🏼 politicization can be very personal and I think as long as we can develop principles, sense for collective, and maintain revolutionary imagination - we can survive together!

Here are some of the Palestinian zines that I brought for people to sift through! I have like 20+ pdfs on my computer and more from encampments that I've visited and will hopefully scan soon!

Palestine: An Introduction from DecolonizePalestine ABCs of Occupation & Resistance by Rachel Mattson The Palestinian Struggle for National Liberation by OBF-HRD/Manila University BDS: What it is, Why it matters by Leila Abdula Razzaq Digitized copy of Ghassan Kanafani by Anni Kanafani (Beirut, 1973), found via the internet archive! From Galilee to Gaza, A voice from Palestine from CrimetheInc. Handala and Other Symbols of Palestinian Resistance & Revolution by...me! (I'll add a link later)

[fayrinferno]

The (printed) collection

From time to time I get a question like, "do you have this or that book?" So, a few weeks back, I finally took them all out of their hiding place and grabbed some photos. Wish I had used my camera instead of phone, I had to stand on a chair to get it all and yeah, the picture is not the sharpest.

Anyway, I have some other stuff, figures and such, although I admittedly DO focus more on books as an artist/writer/translator. These books are the ones I translate from so I wasn't going for mint conditions, although a few of them are. You can see some of them still packed in the store bags. I included the CDs cause... well, they were next to the books and they do have some printed material as well.

The Shiren Suiki book gets a separate photo cause after taking the photos at home I realized I had left it at work when I scanned it... practically crying as I did cause it was barely opened when I bought it and it's a beautiful book. My Anvils are also very fragile.

I may do a complete list one day but for now, here are the quick descriptions.

ARTBOOKS & FANBOOKS I have pretty much all of the major official books I think, missing maybe 1-2 pieces. The one that may look less familiar is Hiroshi Osaka's personal artbook. I also have four of the relevant Nobuteru Yuuki artbooks. The bottom right one with the orange title is the issue of Newtype Magazine with a feature about Esca.

SMALLER BOOKS (let's pretend that's a category) Here I got all the novels (they are out of their sleeves cause I was working on them), all the filmbooks, Secrets of Escaflowne, Escaflowne Bible, and the Energist Memories manga/doujin collection.

DOUJINSHI I was mostly going for stuff I haven't seen online so I only got a handful. Besides the Shiren Suiki book, there are three Minato Tajima doujins (one of them is racy heh but I'm not hiding that I have it). One of the other doujins may look unfamiliar; it's a compilation book that includes other series (the character on the cover is from DN Angel). People who talk to me on Discord probably recognize the Nanoka doujinshi cover.

CDs AND THE LIKE I don't have all the soundtracks for some reason, probably cause I thought the missing ones wouldn't be hard to get. The PSX game is the special edition with the tarot cards. The LDs that I literally bought just for the covers and inlays. I also have all the audio dramas, some CDs with extras... and a phone card that was for some reason packed in a CD case lol (kidding, it's precious that they would give it that kind of protection). Oh, and there are two movie posters which I guess don't fall under either category.

I have some other stuff that is kinda related to Esca "by association" such as by artist or things that "looked similar" but I didn't include them. Also the figures. I may update this post with those but this is the brunt of it. I will be posting some goodies from these soon!

Same goes for the ongoing translations that I've been doing updates on in this post. Life is too short to delay them for months and years because of perfectionism, or rather, being self conscious about one's imperfect language skills. I am thankful to everyone who has helped me so far, proofreading my translations (coverteyes, pikafwance, sevenstars, and radical-rad1986)... I'm not tagging you guys but know that I'm VERY grateful, also to the other people who are helping me with other projects). I always had fun working together with you but it's no longer sustainable and I likely bit off more than I can chew. So I will get myself out of the way. There are two books that are almost complete as of today so I will just probably go chapter by chapter. I hope to be done with this asap but also December is a busy month for me so I'm not sure how smoothly it will go. Let's hope it does.

[t4kalcvr]

So for my next request, can you write a oneshot featuring Gojo with gags please? In the fic, he discovers he gets better orgasms whenever is mouth is gagged. So along with gagging himself at home, he also wears secret gags in public while masturbating as much as he can. What do you think?

[ SECRET GAGS ] — jjk!Gojo

GENRE : nsfw

WARNINGS : masturbation (private and public), gag kink, gag toys and methods, honestly it’s just as is, gojo getting off on gags 😭 so honestly that’s enough to know what to expect but if there’s something pls lmk!

WC : 4.0k

Spurts of hot cum shot out of Gojo’s easing erection and right back onto his hand. He relaxed back into his bed, drifting off into a heavy sleep but not without thoughts about how this reccurring event of pleasure was starting to feel too ordinary. Too typical.

Sure he's had fun with it but to what extent could he go to make it so mind-numbing delicious? And that question brought him to where he stood right now.

A local clothing store.

Yes, it's a little strange, but once you enter the store there is clothing carefully placed everywhere on racks and mannequins. And once you search deeper within the store, that's where you find everything sex-related; Books, toys, magazines, posters, everything.

Gojo headed straight for the books and magazines. He would grab onto one that's title concluded of kinks and trying new things, he would skim through it, analyzing the pages that included photos and demonstrations. And he came across a certain magazine with an interesting headline, Best Gag Ideas to Try with Yourself!

Now that quickly caught Gojo’s attention. Gagging? He's never really thought about that. What if he ever just passed out? Or choked? He could just use his sorcery if he came close to any type of mishap, maybe.

Regardless, he flipped open the magazine and examined each page carefully, word for word and color for color. He wasn't gonna lie, the summaries and reviews were pretty heating. All talking about how choked up they felt and how they lost themselves in the pleasure, moaning and squirting like they never have before, seeing white before having the most breath-stopping orgasm of their lives. It was enticing and Gojo was all in for it.

He continued to scan through the magazine, finally reaching the last couple of pages and seeing examples, suggestions, and actual descriptions of tutorials.

Incredible.

Gojo licked his lips in anticipation, he's pretty sure he's found his new thing. He just needed to know where to begin. There were so many ways, he just had to pick one.

He skimmed through the entirety of the magazine again, trying to have a lightbulb idea. A lot of the things in the magazine were more like stuff that you’d do after your first time doing a gag session. And it seemed intense in some parts.

Gojo snapped out of his heated daze when he heard a soft voice beside him, “Hey.”

He whipped his head to the side to see a petite woman with a red worker shirt and blue ripped jeans, she had her hair done up in a bun and various staff necessities wrapped around her body along with an earpiece with a wire leading behind her head, “You looking for something?” she resumed.

Gojo had to stammer through a few of his words before actually getting a sentence out, “Uh... A good way to start a gag session, like for a beginner.” he knew there was no way across any dimension there was this exact scene playing out without his face burning a vicious crimson color.

The woman stood there seemingly stunned as she couldn't believe someone had spoken those words to her. She felt her own face heating up, also not believing what she was about to say, “You should start off with a simple ball gag toy,” she advised. Gojo gave her a slight head tilt, obvious confusion written all over his face. She sighed and looked to the side embarrassed before speaking, “Follow me.”

They traveled farther down into the store, the back to where the toys were. Gojo has never gone passed the vibrators and flesh lites considering he’s never been too explorative with his sex life. There were new things he was seeing but reading the labels as they slowly passed, they were new to sight not newly heard of.

The woman came to a slow halt before reaching out to a toy and pulling it off its hook, “This,” she confirmed, handing it to Gojo.

Gojo analyzed the toy, it was literally as the name portrayed it to be, a ball gag toy. It had a rubber ball in the middle while two straps came out of either side of the ball, hooking up eventually with the adjustable strap. “I- Thanks...” he muttered, slowly retrieving it from her hands.

She gave a small hum before speaking, “Don't worry about the pay, just... take it.” she gave a warm smile despite the situation and Gojo returned it before asking for a bag at least.

He walked out of the store with a new pair of sunglasses and a new toy.

As soon as he got home, Gojo stripped himself of his shirt, tossing it somewhere along the sofa before untying his sweatpants as he made his way upstairs. He had the bag swaying from his wrists as he loosened his pants, opening the door to his bedroom as he finally slipped them off.

He grabbed a black control, turned on his TV, and began playing a porn video. It was quiet but loud enough to hear the soft moans of the people. He decided to put one on that included gagging for his special occasion. He sat down on his bed as he unboxed his new toy. It was cold, which excited him a little bit, and he squished the ball for fun. He was genuinely impressed with the creation but he was too impatient to just sit around and admire it, so he finally took a breath and gulp before placing the ball in his mouth and bringing the straps around his head, adjusting it just perfectly for him to certainly feel gagged but not suffocated.

He could already feel himself growing in his boxers, his brows were furrowed as he let out a heavy sigh. He wanted to tease himself suddenly, instead of going straight into it.

So with that, he did.

He got comfortable before tracing his fingers down his body slowly, he drew small circles once he reached his abdomen, he could feel himself spasming from his own touch. Once he arrived at the band of his boxers he slowly lifted the band before letting it go, allowing the band to smack against his skin, and a small whine to escape his clogged mouth.

His breathing was already becoming ragged, he oh so desperately wanted to just touch himself but the desire for a mind-blowing orgasm consumed him more.

He began to graze his growing bulge with his fingers, his thighs tensing, and a whine choked up in his throat as he felt the tickle. His eyes were already rolling to the back of his head, his hips beginning to stutter upwards.

Gojo finally let himself lay his hand completely down to palm himself through his boxers. A pitiful whine escaped his mouth, slightly muffled through the ball, as he grinded against his own hand.

He really couldn’t wait any longer so he ultimately let his hand slip below his waistband, gradually creeping near his painful erection before he instantly pulled his hand back. His patience had run out a while ago so he shoved his boxers down to his mid-thigh before wrapping his long, scrawny fingers around his weeping cock.

Gojo began with leisurely, languid rolls of his wrist, sighing in relief at the more appeasing friction.

He lugged his other hand down to fondle his balls, they were heavy, ready to discharge the salty white fluid he's been aching to shoot aimlessly.

A choked moan escaped his mouth, he didn't even notice saliva pooling in his mouth. However, it only egged him on. He started pumping himself quicker and harsher than before, whining when he accidentally gave his balls a not-so-gentle squeeze and it made his hand stutter but not stop.

Suddenly, he was drooling now. His brows furrowed as he concentrated on the rising tension in his abdomen, moans constantly exiting his mouth, nearly choking due to the persistent spit leaking out of the corners of his mouth. He was losing his mind, and he tightened his grip as much as he could as he started fucking his hand erratically.

“Haah...” A muffled and shaky breath escaped his lips, and his eyes were squeezed shut as he felt the pressure in his abdomen become painfully present. His fist was colliding with his pelvis as he slammed his hips up and fist down in sync.

Gojo’s truly never felt this good before. His eyes were at the back of his head once he tried to open them. His breathing was out of control, “Puck!” he attempted to curse with the ball between his lips, teeth digging into the rubber material as his breath unexpectedly got caught in his throat, his entire body tensing and muscles spasming. His back arched as warm spurts of cum shot up and came down on his abdomen and thighs, some slowly trickling down his easing erection and down his balls.

Gojo sighed in contentment as he still felt his dick twitching from his orgasm. He laid there a while longer before reaching around his head to unbuckle the gag toy, it wasn't until it was completely off and his mouth slowly closed shut that he realized how sore his jaw was. He grabbed some tissues, wiping his mouth clean of the drool that escaped.

The orgasm had smacked Gojo out of nowhere and that's what he loved. He felt it but it wasn't something he could hold back. And although he didn't necessarily want to admit it but this is where his addiction begins.

God as much as Gojo wanted to go deeper into the exploration of sex toys and kinks, gagging was just such fun. You couldn't mess it up, and it felt so right. You could have endless fun with gags, and that's when Gojo showed the biggest signs of an addict ever. With endless possibilities, why not add more spice? He could stay in his room, tease himself and jack off all day but where's the fun in that?

That's why, this week was going to be an exciting one for Gojo.

Every single day he has something planned with someone. Movies, dinners, a simple hang out, arcade, it doesn’t matter because it was scheduled and ready to go. And he had an extra bit additionally planned for each day as well.

God, he could be sitting with Nanami for lunch on Monday and simply be sitting there because he was smart enough to eat prior to the interaction before stuffing his face with some random panties he sneaked from the store, they were blue.

“Satoru,” the blonde spoke as he picked at his salad. Gojo hummed in response, letting his tongue run around the designs of the fabric in his mouth. “You’re suspiciously silent, what is the matter with you?” Nanami’s brows furrowed in perplexity.

Gojo gulped whatever saliva he could with his occupied mouth, attempting to clear his throat. “Mmm..” he sunk his head deeper into the unusually large collar of his jacket, “Nuffing...” he mumbled, trying to hide the slightly different pronunciation he had.

But for some reason, he was suddenly getting harder whenever he spoke. Maybe it was the cause of the excitement of being caught, or perhaps it was just the slight embarrassment he felt for doing this. “Are you certain?” the other male questioned further.

Gojo felt his breathing get scarcely heavier, why does the arousal keep ambushing him? One moment it's hardly there and the next it's dizzying and extremely scalding. “Yeff, I'm shure!” he felt himself salivating.

The blonde hummed in understanding, however, Gojo immediately excused himself to the restroom. Lunch break would be over in about 10 minutes and Nanami was already nearing the end of his meal so the only rush there was was the time limit til he was on the job.

And that’s how his week went. Almost exactly how he wanted it to be.

Tuesday, Gojo decided to keep it simple and easy, he used the uncomplicated trick of duct tape around his head, holding the corners of his mouth strong. He also reused the hiding method from Monday, hiding in the unusually large fabric of the collar of his suit. He was only going to dinner so he had to use something that had little airways so he didn't come off as suspicious.

It was at a fine restaurant with Geto, there was bound to be wine. And Geto is quite observant, that was the only thing he feared. And ultimately, he almost did get discovered due to his lack of conversation and dominant aura, but how could he be dominant when he felt absolutely taken over by a simple toy? His body was weak and all he wanted was that precious release. So, a little too soon into the dinner he excused himself. Jerking himself so hard he painted the tile walls with his heavy loads.

Wednesday, Gojo wanted to take it up a notch, he didn't wanna stay in the small circle of toys and strategies when there were so many more risks to take and pleasure to feel. So, he used a bit gag. One that had a rope wrapped around a metal pole, and oh man was that going to make his jaw sore, he had decided to cover it up with a scarf well wrapped around his head. He was going around the city with Shoko and today was a little chillier than others so what day would be more perfect? He ended up excusing himself when they got to a nearby cafe for some warmth and jacked off right in the restroom of the place. His cum almost shot over the stall wall due to how hard he was thrusting into his hand, loving the sensation of his palm running across the underside of his dick. Afterward, he had to take extra time to calm down, and he didn't fail to notice the pain in his teeth from biting down on the bit so aggressively. Certainly a time to remember for the man.

The need to have such a body-shaking, mind-melting orgasm only grew after that experience.

Thursday, Gojo wanted to go into a little more fun much like the day prior but instead, he used Tegaderm tape to shut his mouth, and a neck gaiter to hide the situation. He was going crafts shopping with Yaga this day, he wasn't too worried about conversation as Yaga preferred silence or short answers or spoke to himself, especially when it came to hearing Gojo’s voice.

So there they were within a small store that carried a lot more than it appeared to on the outside. He actually pulled record time with how long he’s lasted within a public space with a growing erection, it took an hour or so within the trip to start breathing heavily as he only had one way to draw breath. Surprisingly, Yaga didn't notice any of his strange behavior for the first couple of minutes but when he spoke, Gojo almost stopped breathing entirely.

“Just go to the restroom Gojo,” Yaga spoke. Gojo’s heart almost sank to his ass, did he know? But that question soon disappeared after Yaga’s next words, “You're so close to doing the dance, and your breathing is insane, just go,” and without another word, Gojo darted to the bathroom. With the edge of being caught and his heart racing and cock throbbing it made him feel more adrenaline than the previous times. He was hammering into his fist, unable to do anything but swallow as saliva pooled in his mouth. All the noises he wanted to make were cut off while his whole body tensed as he reached his peak, this time he shot into the toilet because he was drilling his hips downwards, he knew he couldn't take too much time with Yaga. He was an impatient man.

Alright, I mean seriously, a summary of the week? A hangout with someone featuring some object tangled and shoved in his mouth, salivating at the sensations, and unexpected attacks of arousal until he excused himself to the restroom to rub one out. And it all felt so much better when there were so many risks. He had to be quiet each and every time, sure noises could slip because nothing was so hollow that it'd catch every noise but the last day came with a surprise. One that Gojo did not anticipate and that solidified his unhealthy addiction to gag toys.

Friday night. Oh how exciting it came to be. Gojo would go out to the theaters with Kiyotaka with something shoved into his mouth, ambush arousal, go to the bathroom and rub it out. Except, that's not exactly how it went. Yes, he went to the theaters with Kiyotaka. Yes, he decided to go a little further by wearing a face mask that had a dildo attached to it, slightly larger than anticipated that it would tickle the back of his throat. But no, he did not want to wait an entire 2 and a half hours to be able to go to the bathroom when he got painfully hard two hours ago.

It was incredibly unexpected, much like his arousal, when he found out just how many people would be going to see this movie and how many individuals would be crowding the theater tonight. But then again, it was a Friday night.

Much to his dismay, every time he got up to use the restroom it would be packed, and/or the line got longer. And to add on, he had to sit far longer in his seat because Ijichi was beginning to get suspicious.

“Satoru, are you alright? Short bladder or something?” he leaned over to whisper in the said man's ear. Now don't judge Gojo, he wasn't attracted to Ijichi, but when you're head spinningly dizzy because all your blood is down at your dick, hot breath from anyone would make your cock twitch and make you hold back a groan too, okay?

Gojo swallowed without choking and glanced over at Kiyotaka, he felt his eyes getting glossy and his thighs tensing. His lids felt heavy and the room was slightly spinning. “Uh-huh,” he breathed, his head falling against the top edge of the chair.

“Just try to hold it in, there's only like five minutes left, maybe cut back on the amount of slushie you're drinking as well,” Ijichi whispered before sitting back in his seat. Meanwhile, Gojo let out an involuntary groan from the heat of Kiyotaka’s breath tickling his ear.

And those five minutes felt like two more hours but Gojo managed as best as he could. As soon as the movie ended he told Ijichi to wait for him as he sprinted toward the restroom, it was the emptiest he's ever seen it since three hours ago. But that wasn't important, what was was getting his damn erection to calm down. So, he darted into the closest stall before rapidly undoing his pants and shoving them down to his knees.

He instantly began to palm himself through his boxers, there was a small stain where the color had darkened. His precum was leaking through terribly, he whined at the realization, feeling the dildo poke the back of his throat, but also noticing the echo. Fuck, this place was hollow as hell.

Gojo could barely breathe at this culmination, he was always able to make the slightest bit of noise but everything echoed. It would amplify the smallest noises and sounds no matter what.

But at that point, it wasn't that big of a concern to him. Fuck, he only just noticed how heavy his balls felt too. Plus, being caught was always the thrill, it was riskier now. Just what he's been looking for. So, he didn't stop.

He didn't stop his hand from massaging his weeping tip that peeked out his boxers, nor from pulling them down once that wasn't enough, or when he finally wrapped his entire hand around his crying, suffocating strained cock.

All he desired was relief, the relief he could've gotten two hours ago. But that didn't matter, he was getting it now and it couldn't feel any better.

Until it did.

He stretched out his other arm, engulfing his balls with his other moist yet warm hand. Another high-pitched moan escaped his mouth, echoing throughout the entire bathroom yet slightly drowned out by the crowd. He wasn't even fucking up into his hand before he felt his orgasm rising. This session wasn't nearly as messy as the other ones until he heard aggressive knocking on his stall door, scaring the bliss away and edging him. “Occoopie!” Gojo spat. How dare he get edged like that? But that didn't stop the knocking, “I fwaid occoopie!!!” he spoke louder this time.

The knocking stopped before a voice followed, “Oh sorry! Haha, you're talking like you gotta dick in your mouth, bro!” the stranger joked before walking off to a nearby stall. And honestly, that would have embarrassed Gojo if it weren't for the intense craving for an orgasm right now.

So, he got back to work quickly. This time he was fucking his hand and drooling uncontrollably at the mind-blowing sensation. God, it's never felt this good. But the more he salivated, the more he kept trying to swallow and the more the dildo would poke his throat. His grip on his balls tightened more, electrocuting him with pure pleasure. His back arched against the wall as he let out a quiet but long combination of a moan and a whine.

The lude echoes as the bathroom cleared and the burning sensation spreading all over his body had Gojo panting for his release. Sweat was beginning to form at the rim of his hairline and his hips were stuttering as he let out pathetic, muffled moans, tears streaming down his face as his orgasm approached. Suddenly, he heard a voice, “Hello? Is everything alright in here?”

Gojo didn't even bother getting scared this time, god he just wanted to cum.

“Mhm...” Gojo replied weakly. He almost thought the man was gone because of the small break of silence, a moan almost ripping through him before hearing the man speak again.

“You sure, dude?” patience was thin.

“Yuff!!” Gojo choked out, he heard the footsteps retreating, echoing off the walls.

It was then, he felt his orgasm shatter him to dust. His eyes rolled back, the grip on his cock tightening as he fucked through it, choked noises escaping his lips, and shit tons of hot cum spilling out of him. “Oh... My... Goh.” Gojo panted. This one is definitely the one that takes the cake.

Gojo was scared out of his euphoria at the ring of his phone, he grabbed it before flipping it open and raising it to his ear, “Iff Fahoru,” he greeted, quietly snatching toilet paper to clean himself up.

“What the hell is taking so long?” Ijichi’s voice rang through, seemingly irritated. Shit.

“Uhh...” Gojo tried to think, “Fowwy!” he attempted an apology, but the gag wasn't really helping his current case.

“Just hurry up, the theater wifi is making you sound funny.”

Saturday, Gojo found himself back in the clothing store but not for a toy this time. In fact, he had decided late last night to come by once he recovered from his “mess.”

A worker approached him, “Hi! How can we help you today?” she welcomed.

“Um, hi, I'm looking for a smaller woman who usually has her hair done up in a bun,” Gojo gestured the adjectives as he spoke, trying to give a clearer vision of the individual he was seeking.

“Oh I think you mean our manager, sure I'll go get her for you!” the younger woman walked away with a joyful smile. Not long after, the familiar woman from almost two weeks appeared, walking toward him.

“How may I help you?” she immediately displayed a face that implied she recognized him. Because how could she forget?

Gojo stood there, peering down at her for a few seconds before bringing his hand up and gently caressing her cheek with his knuckles, then opening his mouth.

“Thank you for my new addiction.”

bookshelf !!

Note : another wonderful request, took a little more time on it, again i’ve injured my hand so stories are taking a wee bit longer than intended! But i’m having a lot of ideas, hopefully i get motivation to write them and heal properly! ANYWAYS, Enjoy!