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punkshort · 1 month ago

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A Christmas Miracle

Thank you anon for this prompt!

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Summary: Years of tension after a failed hook-up attempt with Joel boil over at your office Christmas party, but not in the way you expect.

Warnings: language, alcohol consumption, enemies to lovers, smut (18+ MDNI), hate sex that turns soft in the end because it's shortie writing this, fingering, unprotected piv sex, semi-public sex

WC: 4.6K

"Goddamnit, why did he show up? He hates shit like this," you grumbled to your friend, Tina, when the elevators slid open to reveal the latest batch of co-workers trickling inside the hotel ballroom your company rented out for their annual Christmas party.

Tina glanced over her shoulder, scanning the crowd of well dressed men and women before her eyes landed on the one in question.

"Who, Joel?" she smirked, turning back to you.

"Yes, Joel," you seethed. You bellied up to the bar to flag down the cute bartender for another martini. If you had to listen to Joel share horrible stories about his latest conquests, sales or otherwise, then you had to make sure you had a decent amount of alcohol in your system first.

"Oh, come off it. Why don't you just fuck him already and get it over with?" Tina joked. You gasped in disgust and covered your mouth.

"Do not even joke about that. Who knows what kind of diseases that sleaze-bag is carrying around."

Tina tossed her head back and laughed, the sound dancing in the air like music. She was one of the prettiest women in your office, but much to everyone's chagrin, she was recently married and officially off the market. But that didn't stop the men in your office from harmlessly flirting with her now and again for the ego boost.

"Nah, he's all talk," Tina said with a wave of her hand.

"Not true - Lainey in the mailroom slept with him two years ago, remember that fiasco?" you shot back instantly before taking a grateful sip from your glass. Tina raised a suspicious eyebrow at you and propped one hand on her hip.

"You're keeping track?"

"No," you replied defensively. You rolled a shoulder and shifted your weight before taking another sip. "I just remember her crying over it every chance she got. Couldn't eat lunch in peace for weeks."

"Uh huh, sure," Tina said, rolling her eyes. She scanned the room again, hips lightly swaying to the music while you sat next to her, determined to have a miserable night. "Didn't you guys kiss once, though?"

You groaned and squeezed your eyes shut. "Don't remind me. Worst mistake of my life. Thank god I didn't fall for his shit and go home with him."

"Why didn't you?"

"Because believe it or not, I had standards," you clipped. "I didn't want to sleep with him after a sloppy office happy hour. I wasn't dumb enough to put out the first time we kissed."

"Alright, so if you were into him enough to kiss him and potentially see him again, what the hell happened?" Tina pressed. You sighed and let your chin rest in your propped up hand. Tina hadn't worked at your company as long as you and sometimes it was easy to forget she didn't know the full history.

"He took someone else home from the office that night, instead," you muttered under your breath. Tina whistled and shook her head.

"Damn. Alright, dick move, you win."

"Told you. Ever since then, I can't stand being in the same room with him. He's such a smug douchebag, always trying to push my buttons and piss me off just for the fun of it. Like the whole thing was a game to him."

"But it wasn't a game to you," Tina said, slowly connecting the dots. You nodded sadly and took a long sip from your glass.

"Nope."

Tina's expression softened when she saw the look on your face. "I'm sorry. I had no idea-"

"It's fine," you said, cutting her off. "I'm better off. It didn't mean anything, anyway. It was just one kiss," you chuckled, trying to play off the hurt you still harbored somewhere deep down.

"But still-"

"Evenin', ladies," a familiar drawl came from somewhere behind Tina. You didn't need to look. You knew who it was.

"Oh," Tina said when she swiveled around and saw Joel standing against the bar. "Hey, Joel."

He raised his eyebrows in surprise and adjusted his tacky red tie.

"Apologies. My reputation seems to have preceded me," he said, glancing once in your direction before giving her a dazzling smile and stretching out his hand. "What's your name, gorgeous?"

"Tina, and give it a rest, I'm married," she said, holding up her left hand with her massive diamond while shaking his hand with her right.

"That's a damn shame," Joel said with a flirty smile. You rolled your eyes and tossed back the rest of your drink but it didn't matter. You were essentially invisible. "He must be one lucky fella. He treatin' you right?"

"Fantastic," Tina replied, pulling her hand out from his grip before turning to you. "I need to use the restroom," she murmured. You stood to follow her but Joel stopped you.

"How 'bout you? You seein' anyone special?"

You huffed and shook your head. "Kiss my ass."

Joel howled with laughter before sliding onto the stool Tina vacated.

"If I recall, few years back I was willin' to do that and more, but you shot me down."

"Yeah, thank Christ for that moment of clarity," you grumbled. You swept your eyes around the room, pretending to lose interest in the man sitting beside you, but unfortunately you couldn't bring yourself to get up and just fucking leave.

Joel held up two fingers, signaling for the bartender in a frustratingly effortless way that set your teeth on edge and had your thighs pressing together.

"Whiskey, neat. And-"

Joel turned to you, waiting for your drink order, but you shook your head.

"I'm good."

"Shot of tequila," Joel told the bartender with an award winning smile.

You glared at Joel as the bartender walked away.

"Tequila? Really?"

Joel chuckled and swiveled in his stool to face you. "You thought I forgot what loosened you up that night?"

"You're a pig," you snapped, and you should have grabbed your purse and left, but your feet refused to move. "You're a pompous asshole who doesn't give a damn about anybody's feelings so long as you're getting your dick wet. I can't fucking stand hearing you walk around the office gloating like you're hot shit. Tell me, Joel," you said, leaning forward now that you were on a roll. "When you go home to your empty apartment at night, who listens to your bullshit? Hm? The fucking plants?"

Joel didn't say a word but you could tell by the look on his face that he was taken aback. For once you had the upper hand, and you weren't going to let it go.

"Enjoy this schtick while it lasts because one day you're gonna wake up and it'll be a thing of the past. One day, they'll hire a new Joel. Someone younger and hotter and probably nicer than you and suddenly you'll be all alone wondering where the fucking time went."

"You got a real mouth on you, huh?" he shot back. "Think you know a goddamn thing 'bout me? You got no fuckin' clue, sweetheart. But maybe if you gave me half a chance all them years ago, you'd know a thing or two."

You laughed, voice dripping with sarcasm as the bartender placed his whiskey and tequila in front of him.

"What are you saying? Do you even hear yourself?" you asked, narrowing your eyes at him. He scowled and took a long sip from his whiskey. "How the hell would I ever have known anything about you, Joel? Can't learn much about a person after a few drunken hours and a half-assed attempt at foreplay because let's face it - that's all you're willing to offer anyone."

As a last second attempt at a power move, you grabbed the tequila and tossed it back with a wince before slamming the glass onto the wooden bar top and grabbing your purse.

"Thanks for the drink. It's been lovely catching up," you sneered, then finally forced yourself to leave his orbit before you lost yourself completely.

You slid through the crowds of people mingling and laughing in the ballroom, eyes darting this way and that as you tried to either find Tina or the nearest exit. When you eyes began to blur with unshed tears and you were about to resign yourself to crying in the middle of your fucking office Christmas party, you felt a strong hand wrap around your bicep.

"C'mon, this way," Joel's deep voice murmured before hauling you in a completely opposite direction.

For some unknown reason, you let him lead you from the packed ballroom towards the stairs. It was quieter, the sound from the Christmas music dulled against the walls, the only people around to hear it were you.

"We need to set some shit straight, once and for all," Joel said when he pulled you into an empty hallway. From the looks of it, it was an area meant for the hotel staff. One door was labeled laundry and the other maintenance. The elevator bank was right there. You could have easily tapped the button and left, but instead you crossed your arms and defiantly scowled up at him.

"Yeah? This should be good," you told him. He growled under his breath and you had to stifle the primal reaction the sound caused between your legs.

"That night... the happy hour. When we... y'know..." he trailed off and you sighed dramatically.

"Yes, Joel. Unfortunately I remember."

"I didn't go home with anyone else," he said. You blinked, unsure if it was the alcohol or if you were truly losing your mind. Did he really just say what you thought he said?

"What?" you whispered.

Joel shrugged. "I didn't. I might've spread that rumor 'cause my feelin's were hurt but I didn't go home with anyone else. I only wanted you."

"Me?" you sputtered.

"Yeah, you," Joel repeated, annoyance lacing his voice. "You'd been drivin' me crazy for fuckin' months. Couldn't stop thinkin' 'bout you. Ask Harris, he'd tell you. I talked 'bout you non-fuckin'-stop. Then that night, I got 'nough liquid courage in me to make a move and, well..."

He trailed off and ran his fingers through his hair.

"You shot me down. Ruined all the confidence I had 'n left me heartbroken."

"Oh, don't be so dramatic," you said. "I didn't want to sleep with you that night and you took that to mean I wasn't interested in you? At all? Did it ever occur to you some women don't sleep with men the very first night they're shown a little attention?"

"Did it ever occur to you I wasn't tryin' to sleep with you that night?" he shot back.

"Oh, please!" you exclaimed with a dry laugh. "'Lemme walk you home, baby,' and, 'my place ain't too far from here'." You snorted and shook your head in disbelief. "Don't try to rewrite history. I was tipsy but I fucking remember."

"I was worried 'bout you!" he practically shouted in despair. "You'd been drinkin' and I wanted to make sure you were safe! Goddamnit, I didn't expect you to freak out 'n fuckin' shove me in front of the whole damn bar!"

The more Joel talked, the more the pieces began to slide into place. Maybe you did misread his intentions that night.

"W-well... y-you still continued to sleep around with the entire office," you stammered, gathering yourself again and shaking off his bombshell. "You had sex with Lainey from the mailroom and god knows who else! You might not have gone home with someone that night, but who cares? It's obvious you were just looking for a quick fuck."

"There's that fuckin' mouth again," he grumbled angrily. "Yeah, alright. Fine! I slept with a few women but Jesus fuckin' Christ, what'd you expect me to do? You clearly had zero goddamn interest in me. I couldn't sit 'round and be miserable forever."

"I never said I had zero interest in you!" you exclaimed before you had a chance to catch yourself. But your admission was out there. It was too late, and Joel's eyes darted up to yours in surprise.

"What's that mean? You... liked me?"

"What is this, high school?" you scoffed, crossing your arms. When he just continued to stare at you, anxiously waiting for you to answer, you sighed and dropped your arms to your sides in defeat. "Yeah, fine. I like you."

"Wait, wait, wait," Joel said excitedly. "Like or liked?"

"Oh, my god!" you cried out before turning on your heel to storm back down the stairs towards the party. "I'm not doing this with you! I'm fucking not-"

In the blink of an eye, Joel snatched your arm and twisted you back around to crash against his chest. You gasped right before his other hand cupped your cheek and pulled you in for a deep kiss.

For one blissful moment, you let yourself forget it all. You forgot all the anguish you felt when you heard about Joel's latest conquests. You forgot about the way it felt watching him breeze around the office without a care in the world, completely oblivious to the way he hurt you. And you definitely forgot about the way you turned down a perfectly good date just two weeks prior because he wasn't what you were searching for and you fucking knew why.

"I'm not some cheap, quick fuck," you panted when you pulled away for air. Joel had managed to turn you so your back bumped up against the wall. Your eyes slid shut and a soft moan escaped from your lips when he began to drag his mouth down the column of your throat.

"We can go fast or slow, whatever you want," he mumbled into your skin. Your hand connected blindly with his shoulder and gave him a forceful shove, making him chuckle. "I know what you meant. I don't want that, either," he said before straightening up so he could look at you. "I don't want this to be a one time thing. Never did. That's what I've been tryin' to say."

Your mouth opened and closed as you tried to come up with a response. The way things had changed so quickly left you scrambling to keep up, and although you couldn't deny the reaction your body was having to Joel crowding you aggressively against the wall, your mind couldn't give in as easily.

"I can't stand you," you growled before pulling him back down to your level. Your mouth crashed hungrily against his, chasing the taste of peppermint and whiskey on his tongue. You were so lost in the feeling of his surprisingly soft lips pressed against yours that you hardly noticed when his hand skated down your side. With a muffled yelp, he yanked you off your feet, using his broad body to pin you against the wall while his hand began to travel up the skirt of your dress. You quickly wrapped your arms around his neck, clinging to him with your legs curled around his waist so you didn't fall.

"Fuck," Joel groaned when his fingers brushed against where your underwear should have been had you not chosen to forgo them for the evening. You smirked against his mouth and grabbed roughly at his hair.

"Didn't want panty lines," you breathlessly explained.

"Yeah, can't have that," he murmured right before plunging his tongue back inside your mouth. At the same, his thumb grazed over the slit of your cunt, pulling a moan from you both.

"You like yellin' at me, huh? That why you're already this wet, baby?" he purred, nipping at your earlobe while his middle finger teasingly probed at your entrance. You dropped your head back against the wall with a thud, hips chasing his hand, eager for more.

"Shut up," you whispered, then gasped when he finally slid one long, thick finger inside you. Joel chuckled against your neck, curling his finger inside your tight heat every time he dove back in. Your chin was tilted towards the ceiling, eyes squeezed shut and mouth agape as he slid a second finger inside with ease. You were vaguely aware of your compromising position, knowing full well anybody could turn the corner or exit one of the rooms at any moment, but neither of you cared.

"Ohmygod, fuck! Keep going," you begged, rolling your hips as best you could with your legs wrapped around his waist. The palm of his hand began to slap steadily against your clit each time he thrusted his fingers into you, driving you to the edge embarrassingly quickly.

"How 'bout you talk a little sweeter to me if you want it so bad?" Joel countered, yet his hand never stopped between your legs. He pulled away from your neck to watch your face contort with pleasure, and when you opened your eyes to look at him, you saw the flush in his cheeks and the rapid rise and fall of his chest. You smirked amidst your gasps for air and rolled your hips faster.

"Why? I think you like it when I'm mean to you."

His eyes darkened a shade and his hand began to move faster, fingers curling and brushing against a spot inside you that stole your breath. His free hand was pressed against the wall next to your head for leverage, but his fingertips curled with the desire to grab you fucking anywhere.

"Least lemme hear you say my name when you come," he said through clenched teeth. And that defiant streak inside of you really didn't want to give him the satisfaction, but his skilled fingers were making short work of your resolve.

Joel got what he wanted. A few quick snaps of his hand had you loudly coming undone with his name on your lips. He laughed before shushing you and pressing his mouth tenderly against your own to keep you quiet while slowing the rhythm of his hand between your legs.

For a few minutes, you each forgot where you were and all the bullshit you were arguing about moments before. Joel kissed you so softly through your high that it had you melting against him. Your fingers were no longer tugging at his hair. Instead, you found yourself gently raking them through his dark brown curls almost affectionately while your tongues slowly danced together.

You gasped when he carefully pulled out his hand, breaking the kiss. With glassy eyes and swollen lips, you stared at one another while trying to catch your breath. It was almost too soft, especially with the way his eyes searched your face, desperately trying to figure out where things stood after what you just did. He was so fucking hard that his stomach hurt, but he couldn't tell if you wanted to take things further or if you were having regrets.

"So that's all it takes to shut you up?" he finally teased when the silence had gone on too long for his liking. You huffed and rolled your eyes before tightening your legs around his waist, tugging him closer. Joel smirked when his hips collided with yours and you felt the massive erection he had been fighting with for the past fifteen minutes.

"Hmm, no I don't think so," you breathed while allowing a hand to fall between your bodies. Your fingers brushed against the outline of his cock straining against his black dress pants and you grinned. "But maybe this will."

"Thank fuck," he groaned in relief. His breath instantly grew more shallow at the mere prospect of feeling you wrapped around his cock, but when you nimbly undid his pants and pulled out his throbbing length, his chest was practically heaving with anticipation.

"Easy," you murmured when he leaned forward, sinking his teeth into a sensitive spot on your neck. You relished in the way you managed to make him so weak with just a few strokes of his cock. His entire body had pushed forward, chasing your hand. You felt short of breath from the pressure of his body pinning you against the wall but you didn't make him move. You liked the feeling of his broad frame caging you in far too much to make him stop.

You lined him up with your entrance and pulled your hand away, but just as he began to press forward, a squeaky door opening and closing around the corner from your hallway made you both freeze.

"Shit," you whispered. Joel locked eyes with you and quickly shook his head, signaling for you to be quiet. Both your shoulders were rising and falling fast but your mouths remained clamped shut so your heavy breathing couldn't be heard by whoever was walking down the tile floor with high heels. You squeezed your eyes shut and turned your face when the footsteps sounded moments away from turning the corner, then by some miracle they stopped in their tracks.

"Oh dear, I forgot my phone," a woman's voice said softly to herself. You both began to relax when the footsteps turned in the opposite direction and finally disappeared all together.

"Jesus Christ," Joel laughed shakily. You smirked and wiggled your hips, impaling yourself further on his cock.

"Better hurry up," you told him with an arched brow after his eyes locked with yours in surprise. Then a slow smile stretched across his face, positively gleeful that almost getting caught didn't change your mind. With one swift thrust, he sunk inside you the rest of the way, pleased with the way your jaw silently fell open and your head tipped back against the wall.

"You told me to hurry," he reminded you as he began to move his hips. Your fingers dug into his shoulders as you hung on for dear life.

"Fuck... you..." you whispered with your eyes closed and brows knit together. Joel chuckled and nipped your chin.

"Yeah, baby, that's the idea," he grunted, snapping his hips faster. "Fuck, wish we had more time. Feel so fucking good."

"I thought you'd be used to - shit - thought you'd be used to quickies by now."

Joel grabbed your chin and stilled his hips, forcing your eyes open in surprise.

"Knock it off. Told you I don't want that. Not with you."

You were surprised to hear the seriousness to his voice. You fumbled for a moment with how to react before saying, "Guess we'll see about that, won't we?"

"Yeah, you will," Joel replied. He released your chin and began to move again before he added, "I'm a lot of things, a liar ain't one of 'em."

He sounded truthful, but it was difficult to reconcile what he was saying to what you'd been hearing over the past few years. But since time was of the essence, you chose to let it go. After all, how long could it possibly take for someone to grab their phone?

"What? Got nothin' else to say?" Joel chided. You could see the flush creeping up his neck and even a little sweat beading just above his collar. The urge to drag your tongue across his tanned skin was growing impossible to ignore, so instead of answering his question, you decided to lunge forward and do just that. He groaned and began to grind into you, the coarse hairs at the base of his cock rubbing against your clit fucking perfectly.

You whimpered and buried your face against his neck, doing your best to stifle your sounds as the heat in your belly grew once again.

"Just like that," you gasped into his skin, hands grappling at the back of his neck, trying to draw him closer. "Oh, god, Joel... I'm close," you whined. It was building up too fast after your last orgasm. Your eyes began to water the harder he ground his hips and you bit down harshly on your lower lip to keep yourself from crying out.

"That's it, just let go," he whispered in your ear. The intimacy of it sent a shiver down your spine. "Lemme have it. Say my name again, baby, please... I-I need it," he added, voice strained.

You lifted your chin so your lips could find the shell of his ear, moaning his name without your voice being muffled. What felt like just a second or two later, with your orgasm still rolling through you, Joel stilled and groaned softly into your shoulder, hips stuttering as he came.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he rasped as he pumped the last of his release deep into your cunt.

Panting for air, you slid your eyes shut and pressed your forehead against his. You felt his nose nudge against yours and you smiled before searching for his mouth and brushing your lips tenderly over his own.

"Look at you," Joel whispered against your mouth. "All soft 'n sweet now that you finally got fucked right."

"Do you ever stop talking?" you asked, trying to sound irritated, but the smile tugging at your mouth gave you away.

"You fuckin' love it," Joel said right before his tongue slipped past your lips with a groan.

The door around the corner opened and once again the familiar tap of high heels echoed down the hall. You sprung apart and hissed under your breath after Joel pulled out of you too fast.

"Sorry," he whispered while he tucked himself back into his pants and you adjusted the skirt of your dress.

You had just enough time to run your fingers through your hair and swipe a finger under your lip to catch any smeared lipstick when a woman neither of you recognized turned the corner.

"Oh! Good evening," she said after she slid to a halt. Joel cleared his throat and adjusted his tie before reaching for your hand.

"Evenin'... Dolly," he replied, squinting at her nametag. "My girlfriend's lookin' for the bathroom, could you point us in the right direction?"

"Of course! Sorry to say you've gotten yourself quite turned around. If you just go through those double doors there, you'll find the restrooms up the stairs and to the left."

"Thank you," you called out over your shoulder when Joel tugged you back in the direction of the ballroom. Once you were out of earshot, you dissolved into a fit of giggles, the sound making Joel grin ear to ear.

"Didn't take you for bein' such a naughty thing," he teased before holding the door open for you to step through.

"Yeah, me either," you replied with a little shake of your head. "You must be a bad influence on me."

"Care to join this bad influence for dinner tomorrow night?" he asked when he found his place back at your side. The ballroom was just on the other side of the wall. You could hear clearly now the drunken voices of your co-workers singing Christmas carols off-key.

"What, like a date?"

"Yeah," Joel said, grabbing your arm and spinning you around before you entered the room. "Like a date."

His dark eyes were sparkling as he gazed down at you. You noticed some of your lipstick had transferred under his ear and you grinned before using the pad of your thumb to swipe it away.

"Yeah. Okay. Let's do it."

Joel couldn't resist ducking down to your level for one more kiss, but it wasn't quick enough. To your left you heard a sharp gasp and you pulled apart to find Tina and two other co-workers staring at you like they just saw a ghost.

The tension was thick for a moment. Nobody knew what to say or do until finally Tina whooped and cheered before shouting, "It's a fucking Christmas miracle!"

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leighsartworks216 · 3 months ago

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Puppy

Sylus x gn!Reader

Inspired by the quality time work/study animation when he looks up from cleaning his gun and he just looks so soft and sweet 🥺 And also from the in-game phone call "Crow"

Warnings: swearing, pet names, biting, teasing, fluff

Word Count: 1,142

Masterlist

AO3

Tag List Form

“Where’s Sylus?”

The temperamental crow looked at you with one glowing red eye, beak turned away coyly. You have to wonder what kind of programming went into making him have so much attitude. It’d probably go right over your head, anyway.

“Wanna make a deal?” You keep an eye on Mephisto as you reach into your pocket, rooting around until cold metal touches your fingers. You lift the shiny metal nut like a prize. “Hm? A nice shiny trinket for you if you show me where Sylus is? What d’ya say?”

His metal wings fluttered at his side, feet stepping unsurely on his perch. But all crows are alike, mechanical or otherwise. He swoops down and snatches the metal from your fingers. You feel the brush of talons, barely escaping having your hand sliced up by an overeager metal chicken.

His caw sounds like a laugh as he leads you down the many halls of the mansion. When he stops to wait for you to catch up, he croons at his shiny new knickknack, pecking at it and staring at it from every angle with his red eyes. He glides through the open crack of a door.

You peek in first. It’s a study, with shelves lined with old paper books and vinyls. There’s a desk with guns neatly laid out on top. Mephisto perches on the accompanying chair. And on the couch, head tilted back and eyes closed, is Sylus.

You wonder if he’s really asleep this time. He’s tricked you before, but as you listen closely you hear the soft snores giving him away.

How cute, you think. A little midnight nap.

The door doesn’t make a sound as you push it open enough to slip inside. You don’t close it back all the way, and Mephisto’s wings nearly clip your head as he flies back outside of the room. That damn bird will always have it out for you, you’re sure of it.

You creep along the elegant carpet to your target, slowly lowering yourself to sit on the other end of the couch. As much as you love messing with Sylus, you didn’t actually want to wake him up now. So, being very careful, you lay down and rest your head in his lap.

“If you want to cuddle, you don’t need to sneak around for it.”

You smack his chest. “You’re such an asshole!” Your heart was racing from the scare, but you don’t get up from your new position. Sylus rewards you by beginning to comb his fingers through your hair. “Were you actually sleeping?”

He hums. There’s a gravel to his voice you didn’t notice before. “Yes, I was.” He finally lifts his head from the back of the couch to look down at you. “Until someone gave Mephisto a shiny new item for his collection.”

You chuckle despite the unimpressed look on his face. “He told on me again?”

“You’re all he seems to talk about these days,” he sighs. He brushes some hair away from your forehead. “At least it’s positive, this time.

“Did you need something from me?”

“Not really. I was just… lonely.”

He smiles slightly. “Well, I’m always happy to keep you company, sweetie.”

It’s easy to doze while he plays with your hair. He seems to know all the right spots, all the right techniques to ease your troubles away. In his care, your hair doesn’t tangle or get caught. It’s heaven.

When you wake up, you’re exactly where you were. Sylus’s lap was warm under you, and you wondered if his legs fell asleep at any point during your nap. If they did, he’d suffered through it for your sake.

His hand was nearly still in your hair now. It didn’t move in those perfect ministrations as before. Instead, it was almost completely still, moving at a snail’s pace along the crown of your head. You blink your eyes open to figure out why, maybe even pout and whine about it just to annoy him, but you can’t stop from just staring.

If he notices you’re awake or watching him, he doesn’t say anything. His thumb scrolls through his phone, probably looking at the latest underground news on shady deals or skimming over messages from desperate people wanting to deal with him. Something that drew his attention away from you, at least.

So you take your time drinking him in.

He’s pretty, there’s no arguments there, but it’s his own kind of pretty. It’s sharp and multifaceted, like a crystal. His eyes are intense, lashes so dark and thick it looks like he’s wearing makeup. You wonder if he does. He’d look even more gorgeous with dark red eyeshadow and sharp cat eyeliner. His lips are pressed into a thin line, soft pink drawing your eyes to them. You quickly turn your attention to the slope of his nose before he catches you.

With a sigh, Sylus closes his phone and sets it aside. His hand in your hair goes back to a normal speed, his fingers scratching at the nape of your neck as he finally looks down at you, And just like that, all that sharp beauty is replaced.

Instead of his usual intense gaze, his eyes are soft around the edges, just a little bit wider, relaxed. His lips quirk up slightly at the sight of you, softening his cheekbones. He tilts his head playfully, eyebrows raising as though asking if you’re enjoying the view.

“Puppy.”

He blinks, and it’s gone. His brow furrows, his lips dropping into a frown, eyes sharpened with suspicion. “What?”

You smirk. It’s rare to feel like you have the upper hand. You reach up and touch his cheek. He leans into it, though his expression remains.

“Sometimes you get this look on your face,” you tell him. Your thumb runs under his eye. “It makes you look soft, like a little puppy.”

He scoffs, but his lips quirk up again. “Just how long have you been waiting to use that on me?”

You hum, running your fingers down his cheekbone to his jaw. “Since I asked you to join me while I study a few days ago.” You traced the sharp cut of his jawline, tracking the movement with your eyes. “I looked up for a minute, and you were looking at me like I’d just promised to scratch you behind the ears.” To emphasize your point, you reach to do just that.

He catches your hand before you can, thumb pressed to your palm to keep your hand open. He brings your fingers to his lips, eyes watching you intently as he bites down on them, one at a time, nipping at the tips and knuckles with a smirk. “Careful, kitten,” he warns. He bites at the soft skin on the back of your hand. “This puppy bites.”

#fanfic #fanfiction #sylus #sylus x reader #love and deepspace sylus #love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #lads #lads x reader #lnds #lnds x reader #gn reader #x gn reader #gender neutral reader #x gender neutral reader

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angelic--kitty · 2 months ago

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𝖘𝖍𝖊'𝖘 𝖆 𝖒𝖆𝖓𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖊𝖗!

𝖋𝖊𝖆𝖙𝖚𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖛𝖆𝖒𝖕𝖎𝖗𝖊!𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖌𝖚𝖆𝖓𝖌

warnings: smut (mdni), wlw content, dom vampire!ningguang x sub!fem reader, biting/blood, leash + collar, cunnilingus, heel-grinding, fingering, reader is ningguang's "pet" and calls her "tianquan" and "mistress"

a/n: sorry again, please consider this as kinksgiving now.

𝖕𝖆𝖗𝖙 𝖋𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖔𝖋 𝖐𝖎𝖙𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝖐𝖎𝖓𝖐𝖙𝖔𝖇𝖊𝖗

such a sweet, devoted thing you were. always at her beck and call whenever she needed you. so eager to give her anything she desired; your time, your attention, your blood, even your tongue.

she loved keeping you just like this, kneeling beneath her desk while she worked, your head oh, so lovingly laid on her lap, looking up with such sweet eyes. she could hardly ignore you when you looked up at her like that.

the hand holding her quill set it down, falling to cup your cheek, brushing a few stray strands of hair away. "you've been behaving exceptionally well these days. it almost has me wondering if you want something?" she muses, catching the way your eyes widen just a fraction.

"tianquan, i-"

"it's alright, pet." she smiles, sliding her heel between your legs, opening them up to reveal your uncovered center for her. one of the many benefits of keeping you bare at all times; easy access to play with her darling little doll.

ningguang smirks softly as she sees the wetness smeared across your thighs as she slowly trails the tip of her shoe up your leg. once she presses the leather to your clit, she's rewarded with a shaky moan and your hands gripping her dress.

she tuts, pushing your hands down to smooth her dress out, but she allows you to grind against her shoe at your pace, admiring you for a moment before getting back to work. she listens to your breathy whines and grunts like she would a record, teasingly pushing her heel into you more firmly to hear you squeal.

but before you completely dirty her shoe, she pulls away, enjoying your confused little whimpers as you chase her foot helplessly.

"hush," she sighs, scooting her chair back to settle you between her thighs. "you've proven to be quite the tempting little distraction, and i've grown restless from work. be a good pet and relieve me, hm?"

the haste at which you hurry to slide her dress up is almost laughable, but she adores your desperation. she clips your leash onto your collar, tugging it to hear you whine.

she spreads her thighs for you as you lean in, looking up at her wicked expression, her slight grin leaving her fangs exposed as you squeak, hurrying to get to it.

you nuzzle into her thighs, tracing the tip of your nose across her skin before placing a little kiss on the edge of her pussy, only urged on when she tugs your leash once more.

she feels your tongue gently lap over her, a sigh falling from her lips as she leans back, keeping a firm hold on your leash. not that she'd need to pull you in, you're practically smushing your face into her cunt at this point.

she holds your head for you, hips grinding on your tongue as her grunts turn higher pitched, head tilting back. "you're always- ah- so good for me-" she moans, thighs threatening to squish your head as your tongue presses inside of her, your nose pushed against her clit.

ningguang rides your tongue, using you for her pleasure until she finally cums with an almost animalistic snarl, shoving you impossibly deeper while you lap up her essence dutifully.

you can hear her panting, regaining her composure as she clears her throat. "up," she commands, patting a spot on her lap for you. as you kneel over her, she can almost see your pussy dripping from her teasing earlier. "you've been such a good girl for me... i've been rather mean, haven't i?" she coos, mostly talking to herself, but you nod regardless.

she slides two fingers into your mouth, playing with your tongue just enough to get them wet, sliding them down to your needy hole. with great restraint, you try not to buck your hips as she smiles to herself, adoring how well she's trained you before finally giving you what you need.

she's rewarded with the softest, sweetest moans, your eyes scrunching shut when she pumps them in and out of you, not even bothering to be embarrassed by the lewd noises.

you feel her lips trailing over your neck, fully aware of what comes next, and you bare your neck for her, wanting to feel the sting of her fangs and the euphoria of her venom. she praises you, something unusual for her before she curls her fingers and sinks her teeth into your shoulder.

she hears you cry out for her, grabbing onto her, but letting her feed freely while your hips buck against her fingers, riding them as you would one of her many expensive toys.

your blood is heavenly to her, more divine than teyvat's finest wine, thick and rich as it spills over her tongue and down your chest. her eyes flit up to watch you as she feeds on and fucks you at the same time. you're completely lost to the sensations, your cum spilling over her fingers once, twice, her thumb teasing your clit as your collar jingles with every movement.

once you start to look woozy, she pulls away, lapping at the wound. she dips her head to trace the blood that spilled over your chest, teasing your nipple with the tip of her tongue before kissing the bite marks on your neck.

you whimper and whine as she eases her fingers out, completely dazed and fucked out when you look at her, blinking sleepily. "you did well, my pet." she hums, cleaning her mouth with her thumb.

eventually, she pushes you back down to your knees beneath her desk, sleeping comfortably with your head on her lap as she works and admires your body. how lucky she is to have such an eager little plaything....

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jujutsukatsuki · 10 months ago

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Pretty Baby || Alastor x Reader || 18+

I got a request for Alastor with a Female Reader with a praise kink so here i am to abide! I do not support Viv or their actions! || includes: praise kink so MDI!, Fem bodied reader ||

You sat on the couch in the lobby, a book in hand as you snuggled up in a blanket, Alastor had wandered off to god know's where while you were at the hotel listening to Husk and Angel debate something they saw on tv. The door to the hotel opened and in walked your tall dark and creepy beloved. He walked over and gently used his cane to lift your head, the cold steel made your skin shiver as your eyes met his red ones. "Hello my love, what have you done all day?" You smile as he questions you. "Just read and listen to everyone." You hummed as you stood up and looked up to Alastor's face, his gorgeous grin on his lips. "Good girl. Lets take a walk, go get your coat my love." You shivered at his praise, his smirk got a bit more sinister as he noticed. You dashed up the stairs to change, you put on a dress that resembled something women in Alastor's time when he was alive would wear along with a jacket to go over it. Not like you needed one, hell was hot. "There is my pretty baby." Alastor smiled as he offered his arm to you, you took it as you left out the front door of the hotel. A cold shiver ran up your spine at his words.

"Where are we going Ali?" The nickname was silly, but Alastor loved it. "You'll see my love." He hummed as the two of you walked the streets of hell, demons cowering away from Alastor's presence. Soon enough you noticed the sign that read Cannibal Town. "Aunt Rosies?" You asked Alastor who nodded and walked with you into the shop.

"Alastor you old dog!, and the beautiful Y/n! Still look delicious, sure you dont want to give me a taste? Oh im joking!" Rosie giggled as you let out a small awkward laugh and looked to Alastor who brushed it off. "Darling, why don't you go find a new perfume you like." Alastor smiled and let you walk away. You kept glancing at Rosie and Alastor who passed him a box of sorts. You walked back over to where the two sat. "Alright darling, time to go!" Alastor said as he shoved the box in his pocket. "Oh uh-" You didnt have time to say anything as you were whisked out the door by him. The walk home seemed quiet and longer, once at the hotel, you were taken upstairs to the bedroom you two shared. "Alastor, what-"

The box was pulled from his pocket and he opened it, inside was a necklace that held a small pendent of an A. "Oh Alastor!" You cooed as he clipped the necklace to your neck, his fingers lingering on your skin. "Youre always such a good girl, i figured you were owed a present for all your understanding of my deals and being gone often." You let out a small gasp at his words, his hand still on the back of your neck. He spins you around and grabs your chin. "Good girl." He whispers, letting the radio filter leave his voice. "Alastor.." You mumble and squeeze your thighs together, he was playing a dangerous game. He may be the powerful radio demon with hundreds of souls under his belt, but you. You were the one who was starving for his affection and wouldnt stop until you were satisfied. "What darling? I cant help it. Youre my pretty girl." He guides you to your knees, his red eys staring to your own. "Such a good girl." He pets your hair, his fingers running through your hair. "Now, keep being my pretty, perfect girl and open that pretty mouth of yours." He grinned, it was going to be a very, very long night.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel alastor x reader #hazbin hotel alastor x reader smut #alastor x reader #alastor x reader smut #hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin hotel drabble #hazbin hotel smut #alastor x yn #alastor x you #alastor imagine #requests open #reader insert

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thevoidstaredback · 9 months ago

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Tim was curious. Maybe a little addicted to whatever the hell was in that coffee, he's still standing by the point that no other coffee will ever be enough, but that's not the point.

He wants answers. The Justice League want answers. No one has been able to get them. Because Phantom stays in the House of Mysteries, no one but the JLD can actually get time him. The Supers have tried listening out for him, but magic is something they're weak against and therefore can't hear through. Batman has tried to get into the House, but he's been sent everywhere else for his attempts. They would track him down as a civilian, but no one actually knows if he has a civilian disguise. It's very hard to hide hair that starkly white and skin pale enough to be blue.

Regardless, everyone wanted answers and Tim was determined to be the one to get them. Why does Phantom claim to be thirty-eight, fourteen, and eighteen all at the same time? Where did he come from? When did he die? How did he die? What the hell is in his coffee because damn was it good!

Off topic.

Tim had the rest of the Titans return to the tower while he stayed out. It'd be easier to track if he was the only one doing it. Besides, these guys work with Raven, they won't hurt him. Probably.

The fact that Phantom apparently smelled like death was another concern Tim had. Was it because he was dead? And what did Constantine mean that 'the smell lingers'?

More questions kept popping up like goddamn daisies, and there was no answers to clip them down. Tim was getting frustrated, to say the least.

***

Danny made an effort to at least try and help Constantine with the demon problem the building was having. Honestly, it wasn't even that bad, in Danny's humble opinion. The demon was just messing with people, not hurting anyone or stealing anything! He was, at most, planting minor inconveniences everywhere.

That's not technically his monkey, though, and it was most definitely not his circus. He figured he'd offer to be helpful, though, if only so that Constantine would owe him a favor. A favor he already knows how he's going to cash in.

"Why'd you really want to tag along?" Constantine asked Danny while they searched for the demon.

"What do you mean? You offered to bring me along."

"Yeah, but that's because you need to get out of the House more."

"Funny, coming from you."

"I spend more time outside of the House than I do inside." the Brit scoffed, "Now tell me why you agreed to come along. This is demon hunting. You only ever go ghost hunting."

Danny sighed and ran his left hand through his hair. Not that he could feel it, stupid nerve damage. "Deadman's been on my ass about my first trip to Gotham. I would've left to go find some place to crash, but the entire Justice League is also on my ass for some reason! I'd honestly rather not have to face any of them."

"You've been to Gotham?" Constantine asked, "When?"

Danny groaned, "Not you, too!"

"Whoa, okay, okay. You don't need to share with the class."

"Sorry."

"You better be."

"Hey!"

"Now tell my why the JL proper are after you?"

A sigh. "You remember at that meeting when Red Robin mistook my drink for his?"

"Yeah. Hard to forget. You freaked everyone out a little bit."

"Yeah. Turns out they all have questions that I don't want to answer. Avoiding them all has been the best way to not answer."

"You know you can't dodge them all forever."

"I know, but I really don't want to have to explain anything!" he whined, "The questions that they'll end up asking are gonna be really painful to answer."

A raised eyebrow. "How do you know what they'll ask?"

"Because everyone always asks the same things. Worded differently, but still that same."

"Then refuse to answer."

Danny met Constantine's eyes with a deadpan glare. "You're gonna look me in the eye and tell me that the Justice League and their sidekicks will leave me alone if I tell them 'no'?" He shook his head. "Lying's a bad habit, old man."

Constantine rolled his eyes as he went for his lighter, remembering they were were in a no smoke zone and retracting his hand. "Don't sass me, brat. Wonder Woman and Superman, at the very least, would back off. They'd get everyone else to, too."

"What about Batman and his brood?"

"Touche." the man said, "But you can't hide from them forever."

"I can try,"

"But you'll fail."

Another groan. "Can we just get this thing over with? I want to lock myself in the basement and wallow."

Part 5 Part 7

Tag List:

@zaiothe4th @someonebored0100 @wolfeyedwitch @angelheartgamer @nymanders @princessbelix @luminanightfall @kgne-k @bianca-hooks123 @reigning-catsanddogs @sassywombatranchhorse @dontfightmecauseillcry @soul-lime @anarinette @serasvictoria02 @the-chaos-goblin-child @confusedshades @caicie @fantasticstoryteller @randomshtickidk @itsberrydreemurstuff

#part 6 #Enough Caffeine to Kill an Elephant #no ships #dc #dc x dp #dp x dc #dcxdp #danny phantom #tim drake #red robin #teen titans #justice league dark #john constantine #demon hunting #it's actually less hunting and more of an offhanded mention

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w4w4lycsss · 5 months ago

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EXTRA CLASSES | MORGIE LE FAY

Request: Morgie x gn reader where the reader tutors morgie and is a goody too shoes, but is terrified of him since the reader is Merlin's child Pairing: Morgie Le Fay x gn!Merlin's child A/n: I was asked for this request by private message, I don't mind if you write to me there if you have any ideas!

You tugged at the sleeves of your sweater before sighing in resignation, entering the library and cursing yourself for having accepted the favor your father had done for you. You always had good grades and you were diligent, the best in the class, so you weren't surprised that the people asked you for help with certain jobs, and you liked to help.

Now you were really, really regretting being so approachable and kind, because you're inside the library looking around for Morgie Le Fay to help him with his grades and be his tutor. You sigh in resignation, trying to calm your nerves combined with absolute terror of being near a villain to approach the table where he was.

You cleared your throat, making him lower his feet from the table upon noticing your presence. "Hi I am-"

“I know who you are, can we do this quickly?” He rolled his eyes, resting his face on his hands with his elbows on the table.

You nodded slightly and sat next to him, taking some books out of your bag and placing them on the table. “Do you know anything about Herbology?”

“Plants are boring.”

"That is a no. Very well, the first thing you have to do is learn their appearance to know how to differentiate them.”

“Maleficent said that in your leaf house there is a plant that works as a drug, is it true?” He interrupted you, smiling evilly.

You frown and purse your lips, maintaining your composure. "No, it is not. Firstly, it is a greenhouse, secondly, at school we are not allowed to consume that kind of-”

He groans in protest, rolling his eyes. "Yes yes anyway. The faster you talk, the faster I’ll get out of here.”

You sigh tiredly, beginning to read the brief description of your Herbology book, knowing well that he wasn't paying attention to you. After an hour and a half, you check your pocket watch, realizing that time is up. You don't bother telling him because as soon as you take out the watch, he stands up and leaves without saying a single word.

You don't go to your room when you leave the library, you prefer to go to your friend Bridget's room to seek solace after feeling humiliated, a feeling that grows more when you pass by the VK group, listening to how Morgie told them that it was the most boring afternoon of his life.

"I don't understand! I don't know whether to be rude or nice, nothing blends.” You protest in frustration as your friend removes the clips from your hair and combs it gently.

“It's not your fault, maybe you should be more patient. It was your first day, I bet tomorrow will be better:”

You sigh in resignation, not being as positive as her.

The following days continue to be very boring and stressful for you, because you must do your homework as a student and prefect supervision (being Merlin's child) before tutoring time with Morgie, to which you arrive tired and not in the mood to know what whether he is paying attention to you or not.

One day you wake up particularly bitter, or rather, desperate. You can't stand another day with so many responsibilities and you tend to repress your desire to cry from stress, Morgie is increasingly unbearable and you feel that the next victim of the VK jokes at any moment is going to be you.

“Le Fay, I need you to pay attention to me, these topics will be on the exam.” You ask with a pleading tone and annoying desperation.

"You need it?" He scoffs when he hears you say something different than the words in the book.

You had reached your limit. You stand up and hit the table hard with one of your hands while you look at him angrily; Your eyes turn an intense blue color beyond the iris, you extend your hand towards the library door and they are closed by your magical force.

"Enough! I can't be more patient, I've been struggling for a month with not losing my sanity.” Your voice resonates even more strongly because of your power. “I've done everything I can to get you to pay attention to me and do better in class, I'm not going to let my reputation be ruined by someone so…annoying!”

“No one asked you to help me.”

“Yes, yes they did. My father and the pressure to be perfect asked for it. I can’t believe someone like you scared me at first.” Your eyes return to their natural color but your expression is still annoying, and the magic has not been reversed.

"Scared…?"

“Yes, you are a VK, as annoying as everyone. I thought maybe it would be easier to handle you. Ugh!”

Morgie's eyes flash as she hears the way you spoke to him, feeling hisface flush even though he wasn't going to admit it, clearing his throat and reaching out to grab the book you were previously reading to read on his own.

Maybe you had gotten something into him.

Another day you decided to agree to give him another class no matter how angry you were with him that day, you put your books in your backpack and began to walk towards the library with a firm and angry step, looking at the floor

Your head was planning possible ideas to make him focus on his class when you bumped into someone, pushing you back.

You held your head in your hands before the blow, looking up to apologize. "Ah, I'm sorry, I wasn't watching."

"Hello, and/n."

"Morgie?" You were shocked, feeling like the scary kid who first met him. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to look for you, actually." He cleared his throat, stuffing something into his pockets. "We may not study today, I want to spend the afternoon with you and... ask for your forgiveness."

"Are you serious?"

"Yes, very seriously." He looked up, embarrassed. "I was an idiot."

"Okay, at least you admit it." You smiled a little. "Are you sure you don't want to study today?"

"Perhaps, we could study somewhere else:" He smiled back. Go to the Black Lagoon?"

"It's okay, I have what we need in my backpack."

Morgie dared to hug your shoulders with his arm, as if they had known each other all their lives and you hadn't yelled at him with stress a week ago, but it felt like being with him. There was a comfortable feeling in your chest as he approached you, as if your anger and fear had instantly disappeared because of his newfound interest.

#descendants x reader #descendants #descendants rise of red #gn reader #morgie x reader #morgie le fay #morgie le fay x reader #fanfic

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ryngzmn · 6 months ago

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Hey! this is from that post where you need something to write about lol Maybe something about Dean comforting reader about something? Maybe it's based on trauma or something that happened on the hunt that got them so shaken up?

silver springs

PAIRING: Dean Winchester x reader

SUMMARY: dean comforts you after you have another night terror.

WORD COUNT: 669.

A/N: I LOVE THIS IDEA SM, TY😭😭 also i js created the title on a whim bc i was listening to Silver Springs by Fleetwood Mac on repeat the whole time while writing this (can you tell I’m not that creative lol..)

One thing Dean had recently noticed about you is that you tended to wake up in a cold sweat from nightmares.

He’d always comfort you as best as you could, but he could shake away the curiosity of what those night terrors were about.

To be frank, he always asked if you wanted to talk about it, but you’d always decline. Dean didn’t push anything, for your sake of things.

—————————————————————————

Dean was wide awake this night, and he could hear you tossing and turning in the nearby motel bed.

He briefly glanced over his shoulder and at your trembling form, preparing himself for when you eventually woke up.

A few minutes after, you shot up with a sharp gasp, a cold sweat engulfing you, and tears threatening to spill down your cheeks.

Dean got up almost immediately, walking over and sitting on the edge of the bed near you.

“Hey, hey..” He whispered, gently placing a hand on your knee and rubbing his thumb over the inside of the joint.

You slowly looked over at him with wide, almost wild eyes.

“You’re okay, you’re safe here.” He assured quietly, giving your knee a comforting squeeze.

Once Dean saw you take a small breath, he knew you were slowly calming down. Which was a good sign, obviously.

He inhaled through his teeth as he asked the same question he asked every time you had one of these. “You wanna talk about it?”

He fully expected you to say no, to say you were fine and go back to sleep for the night. But surprisingly, you nodded your head wordlessly.

Dean shifted on the bed so he was fully sitting next to you, tugging you closer to him.

You let your head fall to his shoulder, taking a deep breath before you spoke.

“It was about a Wendigo hunt…” You said quietly, but just loud enough that you could hear yourself.

“Yeah..?” Dean nodded, looking down at you as he waited for you to continue expectantly.

You could feel his eyes on you, and you sniffled for a quick second.

“Yeah. It, uh, it ruined my hearing a bit. And it almost killed me.” You explained, shifting against Dean’s side.

Ah, so that’s how you’re hearing was messed up. Dean knew that your hearing wasn’t the best, he and Sam always had to speak in normal volumes around you.

They could never whisper or mumble anything, you wouldn’t be able to hear them and always had to ask them to repeat themselves.

The brothers had both asked why your hearing was like that, because they didn’t really think it was all that natural for someone to hear but not hear that well.

Every time, your response would be something along the lines of, “It happened during a hunt…”

But you never explained it any further. You just left it to their imaginations. Sam’s curiosity died faster than Dean’s did.

Dean’s curiosity on the matter never went away.

“A Wendigo hunt?” He murmured in question before shaking his head and repeating the question in a louder tone for you.

He heard you chuckle quietly and he felt a small smile tug at the corner of his lips.

“Mhm.” You nodded, clearing your throat before continuing. “It came at me, I was able to dodge just it time for it to hit a vital area, but it still clipped my ear.”

Dean let out a soft hum of acknowledgment, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. You eagerly sought his comfort and warmth that came with being in his presence on nights like these.

“Maybe you should get back to sleep, we have a hunt in the morning.” Dean chuckled, squeezing your shoulder.

You sighed, letting out a small yawn now that you realized how exhausted you still were.

“Yeah, I should probably do that.” You agreed, “You should go to sleep too,”

Dean tapped his chin thoughtfully, before looking back down at you.

“Okay, yeah, I think i’ll go to sleep too..”

—————————————————————————

reblogs r appreciated !

#supernatural #spn #dean winchester #jensen ackles #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #spn fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester imagine #dean x reader

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simpxmachina · 2 months ago

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NEW BOT

╰┈➤ wlw red panda , botmaker

🔪 + 🫀 = ☆ bloodthirsty ☆

cai

💋 cat adams - KILLER DATE

The FBI van crawled to a stop under the pale glow of a flickering streetlamp, its presence an unspoken warning that the night’s events were far from ordinary. Inside, the tension was thick enough to choke on. You adjusted your coat, the weight of the hidden microphone brushing against your collarbone, a constant reminder of the team listening to your every word. You weren’t alone, but that didn’t make this any easier.

Across from you sat Cat Adams, her dark eyes gleaming with amusement, as if the cold steel cuffs encircling her wrists were nothing more than accessories. She lounged with a feline grace, her perfectly styled hair catching the dim light, her red lips curved into a smug smile. This wasn’t a woman cowed by incarceration—this was a predator who had set the terms of her release, who had orchestrated this night with you as the unwilling star in her carefully crafted play.

“You look nervous,” Cat purred, leaning forward slightly. Her voice was low, intimate, like the brush of velvet against your skin. “Is it me? Or is it the pressure of knowing everyone’s watching us? Listening to us? Judging your every move?”

You didn’t flinch. Years of training had taught you how to keep your expression neutral, but Cat was unlike any opponent you’d faced. She thrived on reactions, on peeling back the layers of control to find what lay beneath.

“This isn’t a game,” you said evenly, though your pulse betrayed you, thudding hard against your ribs.

Her smile deepened, her head tilting slightly as she studied you. “Oh, but it is, darling. And the stakes are higher than ever. Hostages’ lives, your reputation... and maybe something even more personal.”

You ignored her, turning your attention to the comms team. “We’re here,” you said quietly, your voice steady despite the unease coiling in your gut.

Rossi’s voice crackled in your earpiece, clipped and authoritative. “We’ve secured the perimeter. The rink is clear. Remember, we’ll be monitoring everything. You’re not alone.”

Not alone. The words were meant to comfort, but as you stepped out of the van into the icy night air, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were walking into a trap.

Cat followed, her every movement deliberate, her gaze never leaving you. Even with armed guards flanking her, she exuded an air of control that was unnerving. She paused on the threshold of the rink, the sharp click of her boots against the pavement echoing in the stillness.

“Private ice skating. How romantic,” she murmured, glancing back at you. “Do I detect a hint of effort, Agent? Or is this just another cold, calculated move in your master plan?”

You didn’t answer, stepping onto the ice with practiced caution. You weren’t here to entertain her. You were here to get a confession, to save the lives of the hostages her accomplice was holding. Yet as you wobbled on the slick surface, your lack of skating prowess betrayed you, and Cat’s delighted laughter rang out like a bell.

“Oh, this is precious,” she said, gliding toward you with effortless grace. “The fearless FBI agent, undone by a little ice. Come here before you hurt yourself.”

Her hands found yours, firm and steady, pulling you upright before you could protest. The heat of her touch was startling against the cold, her fingers curling around yours as she guided you across the rink.

“Relax,” she said, her voice a soft whisper near your ear. “You’re so tense. It’s just you and me out here. No guns, no interrogation rooms. Just between girls.”

You resisted the urge to pull away, knowing it would only feed her need for control. Instead, you focused on the task at hand—keeping your balance, keeping her talking, keeping her from realizing just how much her proximity was affecting you.

“Why this?” you asked, your voice calm despite the flutter of nerves in your chest. “Why ice skating?”

Cat smirked, her eyes glinting with mischief. “Because it’s intimate. Vulnerable. It forces us to rely on each other. And, let’s face it, I couldn’t resist the chance to see you off-balance.”

Her words were laced with double meaning, and the way she held your gaze made your breath hitch. She leaned in closer, her lips brushing the shell of your ear as she spoke.

“Tell me, Agent. Are you enjoying this as much as I am?”

The question hung in the air, heavy and charged. You knew better than to answer, but the truth lingered in the space between you. Cat was playing a dangerous game, and despite your best efforts, you couldn’t deny the pull of her charisma, the way she seemed to see straight through your defenses.

“Let’s pick up the pace,” she said suddenly, pulling you forward with surprising strength. You stumbled, her laughter ringing out as she steadied you once more. “You’re adorable when you’re flustered. Has anyone ever told you that?”

“I’m not here for your amusement,” you said firmly, though your voice lacked the sharpness you intended.

She arched a brow, her smile softening into something almost genuine. “No, you’re here to save the day. The hero in shining armor, swooping in to rescue the poor, helpless hostages. But tell me, Agent... who’s going to save you?”

Her words sent a shiver down your spine, and for a moment, the world narrowed to the two of you, the ice beneath your feet forgotten.

By the time the session ended, your legs were trembling—not from exertion, but from the relentless dance of power and vulnerability that defined every interaction with Cat. As the guards cuffed her once more, she turned to you, her gaze lingering.

“You’re better than I expected,” she said quietly, her voice devoid of its usual teasing edge. “But you’re still holding back. And that, darling, is going to cost you.”

You didn’t respond, escorting her back to the van with the weight of her words pressing down on you.

The night was far from over, and as you climbed into the van beside her, you couldn’t help but wonder how much of yourself you’d have to sacrifice to win this game.

The low hum of the elevator filled the air as you stood beside Cat Adams, the tension between you as palpable as the stale metallic scent of the space. Her handcuffs had been removed—a calculated risk cleared by Hotch—but the weight of her freedom was now balanced precariously on your shoulders. Every moment felt like a potential crack in the dam, the potential for her to seize control of the situation just as she had orchestrated everything leading to this night.

The quiet click of the elevator arriving on your floor pulled you from your thoughts. You led the way down the corridor, each step deliberate. The narrow hallway stretched endlessly, lit by cold, buzzing fluorescents that cast harsh shadows on the beige walls. You could feel her gaze on you, burning into the back of your neck like a brand.

“Quaint,” Cat said as you unlocked the door to your apartment, her tone laced with amusement. “I imagined something more... sterile. But I suppose even someone as controlled as you needs a refuge.”

You ignored her, pushing the door open and stepping aside to let her in. She strolled past you with the easy grace of someone who knew she held the upper hand, even here, in your space. Her eyes roved over the room, taking in the worn leather couch, the scattered books on the coffee table, the faint smell of lavender that clung to the air.

“This is cozy,” she said, trailing a finger along the edge of a bookshelf. “Unexpectedly human, considering the company.”

You closed the door behind you, locking it with a quiet snap. The sound seemed louder than it should have been, echoing in the charged silence.

“Sit,” you said, gesturing toward the couch.

Cat arched an eyebrow, her lips curving into that maddening smirk. “Ordering me around already? My, my, you’re full of surprises tonight.”

But she complied, sinking into the couch with a feline elegance that made the mundane act of sitting seem provocative. Her gaze never left you, her dark eyes alight with mischief as you moved to the small kitchenette, retrieving two glasses of water.

When you returned, she accepted hers with a murmur of thanks, though she made no move to drink. Instead, she leaned back, crossing her legs in a way that demanded attention, her body language a calculated mix of confidence and invitation.

“So, Agent,” she said, her voice low and intimate. “What’s next on this... date of ours? Or have we reached the part where you tell me all about your tragic backstory to gain my trust?”

You sat down across from her, keeping the table between you, though it felt like a flimsy barrier against the force of her presence. “We talk,” you said simply, meeting her gaze with a calm you didn’t entirely feel. “About the hostages. About your accomplice. About how this ends.”

Cat laughed, a soft, melodic sound that sent a shiver down your spine. “Oh, darling, you’re adorable. But if you think I’m going to spill my secrets under the fluorescent glare of FBI surveillance, you’re even more naïve than I thought.”

She leaned forward then, resting her elbows on the table, her face inches from yours. Her voice dropped to a whisper, the words brushing against your skin like a ghostly caress. “Take off the wire. Give me a reason to trust you.”

You hesitated, the weight of the microphone hidden beneath your shirt suddenly unbearable. You could hear the faint murmur of the team in your earpiece, their voices distant but insistent.

“Don’t,” Rossi’s voice said, sharp and commanding. “She’s manipulating you.”

You swallowed hard, your gaze locked on Cat’s. She was a master manipulator, a predator who thrived on control, but there was something in her eyes tonight—something raw and unguarded, a flicker of vulnerability she hadn’t yet masked.

Against your better judgment, you reached up and removed the earpiece, the absence of the team’s voices leaving a deafening silence in its wake. The microphone followed, dropped onto the table with a quiet clatter.

“There,” you said, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions raging within you. “No wire. Just you and me.”

Cat’s smile widened, but it wasn’t the smug, predatory grin you’d come to expect. It was softer, almost... tender. She reached out, her fingers brushing yours in a fleeting touch that left a trail of warmth in its wake.

“Brave,” she murmured, her voice laced with admiration. “Or foolish. I haven’t decided yet.”

You leaned back, putting distance between you, though the air still crackled with tension. “Talk,” you said. “If you’re serious about trust, prove it.”

Cat tilted her head, studying you with a curiosity that felt unnervingly intimate. “I will,” she said after a moment, her tone thoughtful. “But first, let’s finish the date. You’ve gone to so much trouble, after all.”

She stood, moving to your side of the table with a languid grace. Before you could react, she was sitting beside you, her thigh brushing against yours, her perfume a heady mix of jasmine and danger.

“Do you always sit so far away on dates?” she teased, leaning in close enough that her breath ghosted over your cheek. “Or is it just me?”

You turned to face her, your heart pounding as her hand found yours, her fingers intertwining with a familiarity that felt unnervingly natural. Her touch was warm, her skin impossibly soft, and for a moment, you forgot why you were here.

“This isn’t a real date,” you said, though your voice lacked conviction.

Cat’s lips curved into a sly smile, her gaze dropping to your mouth before meeting your eyes again. “Isn’t it? You’ve got the setting, the ambiance... the undeniable chemistry. What more could you ask for?”

Her hand moved to your face, her thumb tracing the line of your jaw with a gentleness that sent a shiver down your spine. “You’re trembling,” she said softly, her voice a seductive whisper. “Is it me? Or is it something else?”

You didn’t answer, your throat tight as her lips hovered near yours, the space between you charged with a tension that threatened to snap.

“Tell me, Agent,” she murmured, her voice barely audible. “What’s stopping you?”

The question hung in the air, heavy and loaded, and for a moment, the world narrowed to just the two of you, the lines between right and wrong blurring into a haze of desire and doubt.

The room had grown quieter since the removal of the microphone, the absence of the subtle electronic buzz leaving the air heavy with possibility. Cat leaned back against the armrest of the couch, her legs crossed gracefully, one arm draped casually along the backrest. You sat across from her, the tension coiling between you like an unspoken challenge, daring either of you to acknowledge it.

But Cat’s eyes were what undid you. Dark and hypnotic, they drank in your every move, lingering on the faint tremor in your hand as you reached for the glass of water you had brought her earlier. She wasn’t just watching you—she was dissecting you, studying every detail, every flaw, every hesitation, as though you were a puzzle she was desperate to solve.

"You're quiet," she said finally, her voice soft but weighted with implication.

You glanced up, meeting her gaze with a steadiness you didn’t entirely feel. "I’m waiting for you to talk."

Cat’s lips curved into a knowing smile. She didn’t speak right away, her attention drifting instead to the line of your throat, the way your pulse fluttered just beneath your skin. She tilted her head, a predator studying its prey, though the intensity in her gaze was laced with something softer, something that unnerved you more than her usual smirk.

“I’ve talked plenty,” she said eventually, her tone almost playful. “Maybe I’m more interested in listening now. You fascinate me, Agent. Have I told you that?”

Your jaw tightened, the compliment catching you off guard. “This isn’t about me.”

“Isn’t it?” Cat leaned forward slightly, her fingers tracing an idle pattern on the arm of the couch. “I’ve spent so much time thinking about you. The way you carry yourself, the way you speak, even the way you tilt your head when you’re trying to hide that you’re nervous. It’s... intoxicating.”

Her words were deliberate, slow, meant to unsettle. And they did, though you refused to let it show. “If you’re trying to distract me—”

“Oh, darling, I’m not trying. I don’t need to try with you.”

Her confidence was maddening, but what was worse was the way her words lingered, burrowing into the spaces you had tried to fortify against her. You shifted in your seat, suddenly too aware of how close she was, how the faint scent of her perfume seemed to cling to the air between you.

“I want to know what you’re thinking,” she said, her voice dropping to a murmur. “Right now, in this moment. Are you wondering if I’m lying? Or are you wondering what it would feel like if I touched you?”

Your breath caught, a faint hitch that you cursed yourself for. Cat’s smile widened, the satisfaction in her expression infuriatingly obvious.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” you said, though the words came out weaker than you intended.

Cat laughed softly, a sound that was equal parts amusement and something darker. She shifted closer, her knee brushing yours, the contact fleeting but electric. “Flattery implies I’m trying to win you over. But we both know I’ve already won, don’t we?”

You forced yourself to meet her gaze, refusing to let her see how much she was affecting you. “This is still a mission, Cat. You don’t win anything unless I get what I came for.”

Her expression softened slightly, the predatory edge giving way to something almost vulnerable. She reached out, her fingers brushing against yours with a tentative curiosity that felt foreign coming from her.

“And what did you come for, Agent?” she asked, her voice quieter now, more introspective. “Answers? Justice? Or maybe something you won’t even admit to yourself?”

The question hung in the air, heavy and suffocating. You didn’t answer, couldn’t answer, not when she was looking at you like that, her dark eyes filled with something raw and unguarded.

Cat shifted again, this time turning fully toward you, her proximity stealing the breath from your lungs. She reached up, her fingers ghosting along your jaw, the touch so light it sent a shiver down your spine.

“What do you think of our date?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “Be honest, Agent. No wire, no team, just you and me. Did you enjoy yourself?”

You hesitated, the truth clawing at the walls you had built around yourself. The ice rink, the way she had held your hand, the moments of laughter that had felt almost genuine—they all flooded back in a dizzying rush.

“It’s irrelevant,” you said finally, though the words felt hollow even to you.

Cat smiled, but there was a hint of sadness in it, as though she could see right through you. “You’re lying,” she said softly. “And I think you know it.”

She leaned in closer, her breath warm against your cheek as she whispered, “Deep down, in your heart, do you like me? Do you love me? Have you crossed that gray line yet, or are you still pretending you’re above it all?”

Her questions hit like a freight train, each one forcing you to confront the things you had been trying so hard to bury. And yet, there was something disarming about the way she asked, as though she wasn’t entirely sure of the answers herself.

“I don’t love you,” you said, though the words felt like a lifeline you weren’t entirely sure you believed.

Cat’s gaze searched yours, her expression unreadable. “But you could,” she said, her voice almost wistful. “And that terrifies you, doesn’t it?”

She didn’t wait for an answer, her fingers trailing down your arm in a touch that was both intimate and calculated. She was testing you, pushing boundaries, waiting to see how far you would let her go.

“Let me make it easier for you,” she said, her lips curving into a sly smile. “I’m obsessed with you. Every word you say, every move you make—it’s a high I can’t seem to kick. So tell me, Agent... does that frighten you? Or does it excite you?”

Her words left you reeling, the room spinning as the line between right and wrong blurred beyond recognition. You could feel the weight of her gaze, the heat of her body so close to yours, and for a moment, the mission, the hostages, the danger—it all felt like a distant echo.

“I don’t know what you want from me,” you said finally, your voice barely audible.

Cat leaned in, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispered, “I think you do. You just don’t want to admit it.”

Her words lingered long after they were spoken, a haunting melody you couldn’t escape. And as the silence stretched between you, heavy with unspoken truths, you realized that she wasn’t the only one crossing lines tonight.

The air between you seemed to vibrate with unspoken tension, as though the walls of the room were holding their breath. Cat shifted closer, her movements deliberate, her knee brushing against yours as she studied you with unnerving precision. Every inch she moved felt calculated, every glance from her dark, piercing eyes a silent question you couldn’t answer.

“Do you know what fascinates me most about you?” she asked, her voice soft but edged with something electric. She tilted her head, her fingers tracing a delicate path along the seam of her pants, a casual gesture that somehow felt intimate.

You swallowed hard, your throat dry. “Enlighten me.”

Cat smirked, her gaze flicking to your lips before meeting your eyes again. “It’s the way you try so hard to hide yourself. Like right now. You’re stiff, guarded, projecting this... untouchable exterior. But I see the cracks, darling.” She leaned in, her voice dropping to a whisper. “I see the woman behind the badge.”

Her words sent a shiver down your spine, and you hated the way your body reacted, the way her proximity made your skin buzz with awareness. “You think you know me?” you asked, your tone sharper than you intended.

Cat laughed softly, the sound low and rich. “I don’t think, sweetheart—I know.”

Before you could respond, she moved, swift and fluid, closing the space between you entirely. Suddenly, she was on your lap, her legs draped over yours like it was the most natural thing in the world. Your heart hammered in your chest, and you froze, unsure whether to push her away or let her stay.

“What are you doing?” you asked, your voice catching in your throat.

“Relax,” she murmured, her hands settling on your shoulders. “I just want to be close to you. Is that so terrible?”

It was terrible, and not for the reasons she thought. The feel of her warmth pressed against you, the faint scent of her perfume—it was intoxicating, and you hated how much you liked it.

“This isn’t part of the deal,” you said, though your hands stayed firmly at your sides, unwilling—or unable—to move her.

“No,” Cat agreed, her voice like silk. “But it’s exactly where we were always going to end up.”

Her fingers moved, tracing slow, languid patterns along your collarbone, her touch featherlight but impossible to ignore. “You’re so controlled, so rigid,” she mused, her gaze locked on yours. “I wonder... what would it take to make you let go?”

You opened your mouth to reply, but the words died in your throat as she leaned in, her lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

“Tell me,” she whispered, her breath warm and teasing. “What do you want right now? What do you feel, sitting here with me?”

“I feel like this is a mistake,” you said, but your voice wavered, betraying you.

Cat pulled back slightly, just enough to look at you, her expression unreadable. “And yet, you’re not pushing me away,” she said, her lips curving into a sly smile. “Why is that, Agent?”

You didn’t have an answer, and she didn’t wait for one. Her fingers moved again, this time trailing up to your jaw, tilting your face toward hers.

“Do you want me to stop?” she asked, her tone soft but laced with challenge.

Your breath hitched, the question hanging in the air between you like a live wire. Every instinct told you to end this, to reassert control, to remind her—and yourself—that this was a mission, not... whatever this was becoming. But you didn’t move.

Cat’s smile softened, her expression almost tender. “I want to kiss you,” she admitted, her voice barely audible. “Not to manipulate you, not to win you over. Just to see what it would be like. To see you let go, even for a moment.”

Her honesty startled you, and for the first time, you saw something raw in her eyes, something that felt real in a way you hadn’t expected.

“This isn’t about me,” you said, your voice quieter now.

“But it is,” she replied, her thumb brushing against your cheek. “You’re the only thing that’s felt real to me in years. The only person who’s ever looked at me like I’m more than the sum of my sins. Don’t you see? You’ve already won, darling. You’ve had me in the palm of your hand since the moment you put those cuffs on me.”

Her words were a confession, but not the one you had been sent to extract. And as her gaze searched yours, her face so close that you could feel the warmth of her breath, you realized that this moment, this choice, would change everything.

“Cat,” you began, your voice shaking, but she silenced you with a look, her eyes filled with a vulnerability that made your heart ache.

“Don’t think,” she whispered, leaning in just enough that your lips were a breath apart. “Just feel.”

Her words were a dare, a challenge, and for one fleeting moment, you considered letting her win.

You could feel the electric pulse between you, every second stretching longer than the last, as if the world itself held its breath. Cat's lips were so close now, her warm breath mingling with yours, making every fiber of your being tingle with anticipation. Her eyes were locked on yours, searching, pleading, daring you to make the next move. The tension was unbearable-like a string pulled so taut it could snap at any moment.

But you didn't move.

Neither did she.

Instead, Cat tilted her head slightly, the playful glint in her eyes shifting into something deeper, more serious. "You know," she murmured, her voice soft, almost intimate, "I've never been afraid of getting what I want. But with you..." She trailed off, her words left hanging, heavy with implication. "There's something different about you. You... you make me feel something I've never felt before. Something I didn't even think i could feel."

Her confession was like a gentle blow to your chest, knocking the breath out of you. For a moment, everything seemed to freeze. You weren't just playing a game anymore. The line between agent and criminal, between predator and prey, had blurred beyond recognition. And what terrified you more than anything was how badly you wanted her to be honest, wanted her to open up, to give you something real-something raw.

But you couldn't let yourself forget. You were here on a mission. A mission to stop her, to bring her down. That was the reason you were sitting here now, heart racing and breath shallow. Not because of the way her hands were so casually draped on you, not because of the way her lips hovered so close to yours, her eyes half-lidded, lips parted ever so slightly.

You cleared your throat, trying to regain some semblance of control. "This isn't what you think it is, Cat. You're playing a dangerous game."

Cat's lips curled into a slow, almost affectionate smile, as though your words amused her. She leaned even closer, until her lips brushed the corner of your mouth-just enough to make your pulse spike.

"No," she said softly, almost a whisper, "this is exactly what I think it is."

Her fingers traced down your arm, her touch languid and sensuous, and your heart pounded in your chest. Every touch, every movement from her was deliberate. She was testing you, pushing the boundaries, trying to see how far you'd let her go, how far you were willing to let her pull you into her web.

"You're not the first to try to catch me," Cat continued, her eyes dark with something you couldn't quite place. "But none of them ever had what you have. I don't know if you even realize it, but you're different. You make me want to-"

Her words trailed off as she moved again, shifting her body to straddle you more fully, her hands coming up to cup your face, holding you still. The boldness of it took you by surprise, but it was the way she looked at you, the intensity of her gaze, that made your breath catch in your throat.

Cat's eyes flickered down to your lips, then back up to your eyes. For a moment, the world outside of this room seemed irrelevant-nothing mattered but the heat between you, the way your heart raced and your thoughts stumbled over themselves.

"I told you," she whispered, her breath warm on your lips. "I want you, but not just like this. I want to see you... open up, let go. Just for a moment, stop being the agent, stop being the wall you've built around yourself, and let me in."

You couldn't help the way your body reacted. You could feel the heat rise in your chest, your breath hitching, betraying you even as you told yourself to stay focused, to remain distant, to not give in.

But her words, her proximity, the feel of her hands on your skin, all of it worked like a slow, undeniable pull on your soul. You knew what she wanted-what she was asking for. And for the first time, you realized that what terrified you most wasn't the manipulation or the criminal that Cat was. It was the woman she was now, the one who made you feel things you couldn't explain, the one who made you want to forget everything.

"I'm not a toy, Cat," you said, your voice shaking more than you wanted it to.

But Cat didn't seem to hear you. She kissed you-lightly at first, just a brush of her lips against yours, and then deeper, more insistent, her tongue coaxing yours to respond. The kiss was intoxicating, every touch of her lips setting your skin on fire. And for a moment, all you could do was surrender to it.

She pulled back slowly, her eyes half-lidded, and a soft chuckle rumbled in her throat. "You're still trying to resist me, aren't you?" she murmured, her voice husky with desire. "But I can feel it... you want this. You want me."

You didn't answer. There was nothing to say. She was right. The truth was there, laid bare between you. There was a part of you that wanted this, wanted her, more than you cared to admit.

But the mission. The people you had to save. The line you could never cross.

Cat wasn't about to make it easy for you, though. She slid one hand into your hair, pulling you closer again, her lips brushing against your ear as she whispered, "I'm not done with you, Agent. Not by a long shot. So, tell me... what do you want? What will you do next?"

Her words wrapped around you like a chain, and for the first time, you didn't know if you wanted to break free.

#cat adams #criminal minds #aubrey plaza #aubrey plaza x reader #rio vidal

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stay-dazed · 1 year ago

Text

stray kids as dads

notes: female reader, and you're married here. so sorry if anything came out repetitive!

chan: chan, as anyone would have expected, is an amazing father, thanks in part to raising 7 other men for a living. you're so happy to see your husband and your son taime bond together over the years, especially over chan's favorite thing - music. he takes taime to the studio fairly regularly, where uncle jisung and changbin are so excited to see him that they barely get any work done. and when chan works from home, taime joins him by sitting on his lap and asking him tons of questions about how all the colorful tabs on his laptop work.

chan patiently answers all his questions, even if he's answered some before. taime's only 7 years old after all, so he doesn't always remember what chan's told him. but he still shows a ton of interest, and always says he wants to grow up to be just like his appa.

chan really is a great dad. he's very patient and always willing to help his child when he needs it, although he doesn't always make problems just go away. he may just try to guide taime through it so he can learn to make good decisions for himself as he grows. he's also very playful with taime. they love to play-wrestle, play various sports together since chan grew up incredibly athletic himself, race each other, and so on.

actually one of chan's favorite ways they race together is when they come home from running an errand or from picking taime up from school, and they run inside to give you a big hug. you just love it when they do that, because it makes you feel so loved and appreciated. the hug may catch you off guard while you're busy working around the house, and it may almost knock you over now and again, but you wouldn't ever miss a hug from your favorite boys.

"okay, buddy, ready to see who can give mom the biggest hug first?"

minho: while minho wasn't initially expecting to be a father, at least not anytime soon, he still became a great dad to your daughter, jimin. she's 3 now and absolutely has minho wrapped around her little finger, though he'd never admit to that. she loves to play dress-up with her appa, adding clips and bows to his hair, messily painting his nails, and putting shaky lip tint onto his lips. and the entire time minho just sits there patiently, smiling at jimin's excited expression and encouraging her with kind words," i'm sure i look very pretty, sweetie. thank you." his face drops if he ever catches you laughing, though.

jimin also loves having lazy days, and minho never argues with that. so on the days he gets off from work, they'll both stay in their pajamas all day, watch cartoons, eat sweets for their meals, and take naps. the lock screen on your phone is actually a photo of them sleeping together; jimin in her little pink pajama set laying on her appa's chest comfortably, a little pigtail in both of their hair.

but what makes minho happiest is watching jimin play with the fuzzy trio - soonie, doongie, and dori. she'll take one of the feather toys and play with them for hours, if they have the energy. and minho could watch the entire time, sipping on his coffee and taking a couple videos. he's just so happy she loves the cats as much as he does.

"jimin baby, look at the camera. hi pretty! can you smile for me?"

changbin: changbin was so ready and so excited to be a father. he just knew he'd be a great dad, with how understanding and good at listening he is. and sure enough, he became a rock for your 4 year old daughter nari. whenever she's crying over things important to her, like spilling her juice or missing her favorite show on pbs, he listens closely to her while wiping her tears away with his thumb. he then reassures her that he understands exactly why she's upset, and that things will be okay. he'll just refill her juice or put on another show she loves.

changbin really is nari's superhero. you can just tell how much she looks up to him already. like the time she accidentally tripped and hit her head against the leg of a chair. she cried and ran to her appa, holding her arms open for changbin to pick her up, which he did immediately. he held her safe against his chest and looked closely at her head to make sure everything was okay. after confirming it just left a bump, he rocked her back and forth, saying softly," it's okay aegi, you'll be okay." you came in from the backyard to see him rocking her in his arms.

she looked up at him with starry eyes, slowly calming down. eventually, she actually fell asleep in his arms, completely forgetting about the pain. you smile as you watch them. changbin is your superhero too.

"let me give it a kiss, aegi. i have magic kisses that'll make it all better."

hyunjin: you could tell just how ecstatic your husband was to have a little baby girl, only a month old now. hyunjin holds joon in his arms as often as he can, without taking her away from your bonding time of course. he has a gentle, adoring look in his eyes as he watches her sleep, all swaddled up and comfy. he'll sit in silence for a bit before expressing a random thought like," she has your nose, love" or "do you think she's dreaming right now? what do babies dream about?"

he's confided in you before about how he's scared, wondering if he'll truly be a good father. but you have so much confidence in him. he's such a patient and loving person, and he's very protective of your little girl. you can see so clearly the happiness he has when doing even the most simple everyday things, like helping you choose her clothes in the morning or buckling her up in her carseat, cooing at her the entire time. and he's especially happy when showing her off to people. he just beams with pride as they also coo over her and say sweet things like," oh she's so beautiful, just like her mama."

it's the greatest when watching the members argue to see who can hold joon first, and who will be the best uncle. you and hyunjin both relax on the couch, leaning against each other and fighting against the fatigue that creeps in after many a sleepless night. you watch chan hold joon, baby-talking to her while jisung looks over his shoulder with the widest smile on his face. joon will be raised surrounded by so much love, and you couldn't be more thankful.

"my mom gifted us the socks she's wearing- changbin make sure you're supporting her head. i know you know, just be careful. she's so fragile."

jisung: jisung was so nervous to become a father, wondering if he could really raise a child. but even then, he couldn't hide his very obvious excitement. he couldn't believe he'd have a son of his own that would look up to him, just like he had his dad. and junseo, now 2, is truly the light of his life. besides you of course. though the both of you learn through trial and error, just as all first-time parents do, jisung is still the perfect father in your eyes.

he's patient and loving, and lots of fun. your son can be heard giggling all throughout the day as jisung plays with him, or tickles him just to hear that happy sound. he does the exact same thing in public. anything silly to make his baby boy laugh, even if people may look at him weird. you can tell jisung's anxiety, while not completely gone, has decreased significantly since becoming more confident as a father. he's not nervous ordering for his family at restaurants, or taking junseo to his doctor appointments on his own when you're busy visiting a friend.

he still panics inside just a little whenever junseo gets hurt or catches a cold, but he's fantastic at remaining calm and patching him up. he'll carefully clean the owie, put a bandaid on it, and give it a kiss to make it feel better. and he takes time to learn recipes from his mom that help battle a cold. jisung is growing so much and you couldn't be more proud of him.

like chan, he takes his son to the studio with him in order to raise him around music. though it's a little more difficult to concentrate than in chan's case, since junseo is really young and needs more attention to avoid getting himself into trouble (which he gets from jisung, let's be honest.)

"hey junseo, jagi, could you please not climb on appa's chair? thank you. wait- no no, don't pull those wires!"

felix: felix knew since he was in highschool that he wanted to be a father, especially of a daughter. the thought of having his own little girl had always appealed to him, making his heart feel warm. and after a long and complicated birth process that occurred a month early, you both welcomed your son theo into the world. felix could do nothing but hold his tiny miracle baby, his teddy, in his arms and cry happy tears as you recovered in bed.

now theo's 5 years old and while he's smaller than other boys his age, he's still a little spitfire with enough energy and curiosity to last him a lifetime. and felix is still absolutely head over heels for him. on his days off, felix spends time with theo by watching cartoons with him, dancing to music with him (usually stray kids), and baking with him, which often leads to some messy outcome. but at least they're really cute while doing it.

felix is a great father, so gentle and amazing at teaching. the moments you catch them in make your heart swell with happiness and gratitude. for example, the time you were looking out the kitchen window as you did the dishes, and you saw felix showing theo a bug outside, encouraging him to always be curious about the world around him.

or like right now. 8:00, theo's bedtime before starting his first day at kindergarten tomorrow. you find felix holding him safely in his arms, telling him a story in korean that his mom used to tell when he was theo's age. it's sentimental, as well as teaching theo to appreciate the cultures coming from both his parents. felix, just like you, is nervous about sending his baby to school tomorrow, but you know they'll both be just fine.

"okay teddy bear, time to go to sleep. you have a big day tomorrow. i love you so much, son."

seungmin: similar to minho, seungmin never expected to be a father. like at all in his entire life. but when it happened unexpectedly, he was supported by his family and closest friends. in time, he began to develop more confidence in himself. and as each day with his little girl chin-sun passed by, seungmin was filled with more and more love and comfort. chin-sun brought him comfort.

and she still does to this day, as she grows closer to turning 3 years old. you can see the comfort seungmin feels in the way he picks up your little girl to spin her around, or the way he lets her wear his shirt after bathtime even though it's the size of a tent on her. the way he kisses her forehead every night after she falls asleep, and the way he sings to her every day.

like right now. it's time for dinner, which means cleanup time in chin-sun's play room, and you can hear seungmin singing. it's a little distant over the bubbling of the food on the stovetop, but you know it by heart and hum along anyway. it's called "the cleanup" song. seungmin made it up himself to encourage your little girl to have fun while doing things she's supposed to do. there's also songs for bathtime, bedtime, driving to grandma's house, etc. it's incredibly creative, and one of the cutest things you've ever seen your husband do.

people who don't genuinely know seungmin may find him blunt or standoffish, but you know how he really is. he becomes a better dad every day, if that's even possible, and he'd do absolutely anything for his two favorite girls.

"okay silly, let's go eat. you did a good job cleaning up! did you have fun singing with appa?"

jeongin: jeongin honestly never put much thought into kids and if he wanted them. but the day you announced you were pregnant, he was filled with determination to take very good care of his wife and child. he worked so hard right off the bat, reading books on pregnancy and birthing, and calling his dad to ask for advice on being one himself. the farther along you got in your pregnancy, the more protective jeongin became over you. all he wanted was for you to relax and stay safe.

and the day your son haneul came along, jeongin was beaming with pride. he told you multiple times how thankful he was to you for providing him with something so precious. that night in the hospital, where you were kept until morning just to be safe, jeongin again promised himself to be the best father and husband he could ever be, before dozing off in a rickety chair placed next to your bed.

now, a year later, haneul is one happy little boy. always smiling and giggling, and he absolutely loves giving people hugs and kisses. jeongin was never the overly affectionate type, but now all he loves to do is give his son hugs and kisses. his uncles absolutely adore it as well and are eager to babysit him whenever possible. simply put, haneul just has a way of making everyone around him happy.

you're filled with joy every time you see your husband spend happy moments with your boy. moments such as jeongin picking little designer shoes for hanuel's outfits, or patiently letting haneul climb all over him as he sits on the couch. it's so sweet to see. jeongin really turned out to be the amazing father he promised to be.

"are you having fun, son? yeah? ah hannie, lift your leg, you got appa's hair."

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spikezonebby · 2 months ago

Note

https://www.tumblr.com/spikezonebby/766604402550341632/hnnnng-gotta-make-myself-fight-through-this-damn

May I ask specifically for Soundwave doing it to Shockwave?

Oh ho ho let's get that HOLE real talk this thought got away from me a bit so there's some finger sucking and ass play under the cut. That includes fingers, spike, AND rimming bby. Oh yeah and I'm inserting my nullified Shockwave hc in here too but it's nothing explicit, bruv just has no cock or puss. This also escalated into overloading untouched so enjoy!

I think Shockwave should have a thing for Soundwave's face under the mask. Maybe it's jealousy, maybe it's remembering his own face, maybe it's just the fact that Soundwave undoubtedly has some *luscious* dick sucking lips. Whatever it is, once Shockwave convinces him to take off the face mask the full horny comes out.

Brushing his thumb over Soundwave's soft bottom lip, pressing down and watching the protomesh give beneath him. Unlike Shocks, Sounders is pretty expressive beneath the mask. His expression screws up with a pout, he bites the inside of his cheek or the tip of his glossa. Shockwave hates (loves??) it. Soundwave's lips part and Shockwave takes the opportunity to savor the delightful wet warmth around his digits. He tries to picture biolights seated in the joints, protomesh instead of hard metal.

Empurata took more than just his face and his hands, and despite Lord Megatron's generosity (in equal proportion to your use), there were limits. No amount of donor parts would ever feel like his, and so Shockwave had to settle for using the one part of his that handed been destroyed by the Senate.

And Soundwave, despite his reputation for being quiet, knew how to use his tongue.

Soundwave's servos hold his thighs, drawing musical notations across the outside of one as the other slides up and presses along either side of Shocks' aft port. If he focuses, Shockwave can almost feel the pulse of arousal deep in the pit of his belly, right behind his permanently sealed valve cover and spike housing. Nothing was there. Nothing. Just empty slots where they once were. The blue boombox hums-- a rich sound without the mask synthesizer-- and a warm, humid breath brushes along his hole. Quickly followed by the swipe of a glossa, so brief it sends a shiver through his systems that not even shadowplay can supress.

"Stop stalling." He drones, gripping the edge of the table he laid belly-down upon with his good servo.

There was an electric buzz that haunted the air for a moment, the tell-tale sign of Soundwave trying to probe his mind and field. But shadowplay renders the field deaf and the vocalizer numb. He settles instead for pressing his glossa tighter to the iris of synthetic muscle and dutifully working at it.

Shockwave's body doesn't react to the ripples of liquid sin Sound's tongue pours over his sensory net, but he feels them still. Soundwave at least doesn't seem to mind a quiet lover. He loses himself to the moment, probably listening to music within his own mind as his tongue and lips work the purple mech open. Soon fingers join the fray and Shockwave's systems start to throw heat through his vents, hot enough to steam the air and make condensation sit on his plating.

Sounders pulls away, but not without leaving a long trail of solvent dripping down from his port all over the inside of his thighs. Shockwave's hole twitches, and Soundwave just leans in and swirls his tongue over the flushed protometal like it's the sweetest, filthiest treat.

"Stop stalling." Shockwave says again, his vocalizer clipped and his whining vents speaking more for his need. He can't overload from this, but it was close enough.

It takes an utterly embarrassing amount of energy to pull his pedes up beneath him, but he bows his back and tries to turn his helm to look over his shoulder.

He says it again, "Stop stalling." But Soundwave knows he means "Please frag me."

It is a logical enough conclusion.

So Soundwave hums again and takes the purple mech by the hips. There's a shoop-whiiiiiir of his plating retracting, then hefty weight of Sounder's spike sitting so enticingly plapping against his throbbing entrance.

"Stop stall--!?"

And then Soundwave lines himself up, and shoves himself to the hilt in one fell swoop. He's searingly hot, thicker than even Shockwave's digits, and he feels so good.

The quietest huffs escape his vents and Soundwave doesn't wait for him to adjust, he knows how loved and knows he likes it rough. Fingers slide up around his throat, not quite squeezing but it still takes Shockwave aback when the blue mech pulls him up off his front. Pulling his body taut against him, and Shockwave swears he can feel the boombox's massive spike pressing a bulge out against his abdomen.

"Query: Shockwave, cannot overload?"

If he's had a mouth Shockwave was certain he'd be beyond words. The lips in the side of his helm, brushing his audials, makes him shake minutely.

"Affirmative."

"Soundwave: Has an idea."

Before Shockwave can even question him, there's another click. His hand slides up to hold Soundwave's forearm, calculations running in the back of his processor for what the boombox could possibly be thinking. But his answer comes not as words but, vibration.

Soundwave's spike starts vibrating with such sudden, deep haste that Shockwave actually does gasp. It ruins him from his pedes to his processor, so deep he can feel it in his fuel pump. And with a shout his aft quivers around Soundwave, white blinding his vision and then spurts of thick, pink transfluid dumping into his chute. Never before had Shockwave felt so loose, wet, and properly used. His pedes give out, his optic flashes, and electricity crackles all along his body as his first overload in millions of years wrecked his body.

#transformers #valveplug #maccadam #transformers shockwave #transformers Soundwave #tf shockwave #tf soundwave #shockwave #Soundwave #wave/wave #Shockwave/Soundwave #wavewave #i was picturing tf Cyberverse for this but go ham #request fill #thank you for requesting!!

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mikeysonly · 13 days ago

Text

In His Shadow - Manjiro Sano

♡ synopsis: enemies to lovers - mikey isn’t a fan of you returning to Toman for protection.

♡ content warnings: blood/violence, death/loss, angst

♡ note: I was listening to Take A Chance With Me - NIKI the entire time. I’m such a messssssss. ♡ note 2: dude this one is so long I’m so sorry I’m just going through it lol. also idk what timeline this is i just went off on my own. enjoy

The warehouse smelled like rust. Y/N stood in the shadows, leaning against the cold metal wall as the echoes of rowdy voices filled the space. The Tokyo Manji Gang hadn’t changed much, just bigger, louder, and far more dangerous than when she’d walked away a year ago.

And at the center of it all stood him.

Manjiro Sano, better known as Mikey, perched on a wooden crate like a king surveying his kingdom. His black hair caught the dim light, his face unreadable. The warmth she used to associate with him was long gone, replaced by a chill that made the air feel heavier.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Mikey said, his voice cutting through the noise. The gang fell silent.

Y/N stepped forward, ignoring the weight of what felt like a million stares. “I didn’t come here for you.”

“Then leave,” Mikey snapped, his tone cold. He didn’t even look at her, his gaze fixed on the floor.

Her jaw tightened. “I’m not here to fight you. I need your help.”

At that, Mikey’s eyes finally flicked up to meet hers, and Y/N felt the familiar sting of his gaze. Black and unrelenting, like a storm she couldn’t outrun. “You need my help?” He mocked. “After you left? After everything?”

Y/N swallowed the lump in her throat but refused to back down. “Yes. I wouldn’t be here if I had another choice.”

Mikey slid off the crate and walked toward her slowly, each step deliberate. The gang watched in tense silence. When he stopped a foot away, Y/N could see the hardness in his features, the shadows under his eyes.

“You made your choice a long time ago,” he said quietly, his voice laced with bitterness. “You don’t belong here anymore.”

“I didn’t come to belong, Mikey. I came because there’s a threat bigger than your grudge against me. So put it aside for once.”

Mikey tilted his head slightly, the corner of his mouth twitching into a cruel semblance of a smile. “You think you can just waltz back in here and lecture me about threats? You don’t get to do that.”

Y/N felt the heat rising to her face but forced herself to stay calm. “This isn’t about me, Mikey. It’s about the gang.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he said, mock sincerity dripping from his words, “were you worried about us? Or was it guilt eating you alive, making you think you could play savior?”

The room felt smaller, the gang’s eyes on her. Y/N clenched her fists, her voice steady despite the storm brewing inside her. “Believe whatever you want, but if you don’t listen, people are going to get hurt.”

He took a step closer, his presence suffocating. “People have already gotten hurt, Y/N.” His voice dropped lower, sharp enough to cut. “And some of them didn’t survive. You think I don’t know that? You think I need you to tell me?”

Her breath hitched at the venom in his tone, but she refused to look away. “No,” she said softly. “But you’re acting like you’re the only one who lost something. Like you’re the only one who’s allowed to grieve.”

Mikey flinched, barely noticeable, but Y/N caught it. For a brief moment, the mask slipped, and she saw the boy she used to know.

But just as quickly, the wall was back up. Mikey turned his back to her, his voice clipped. “If you’re here to cry about the past, save it. We don’t need you.”

Y/N’s chest tightened, but she stood her ground. “Fine,” she said, her tone sharper now. “You don’t need me. But when this blows up in your face and you’re left picking up the pieces again don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

She turned on her heel, the gang parting silently to let her through. The tension in the air was palpable, but no one dared to stop her.

“Y/N,” Mikey’s voice called out, halting her in her tracks.

For a fleeting second, she thought she heard something softer in his tone, something close to the boy she used to know. But when she turned to face him, his expression was as cold as ever.

“I don’t want to see you back here.” he said, and the weight of his words hit harder than she expected.

Y/N didn’t reply. She couldn’t. She just walked out, her heart heavier than when she arrived.

—

That night, Y/N sat in her small apartment, staring at the faded photo of some of her favorite Toman members tucked into the edge of her mirror. Mikey stood in the center, a bright grin on his face, flanked by Draken and Takemitchy. Y/N was in the corner, laughing at something off-camera with Emma and Hinata.

It felt like a lifetime ago.

Her phone buzzed, snapping her out of her thoughts. A single message lit up the screen:

Unknown Number: We know who you are.

Y/N’s stomach dropped. She hadn’t told anyone outside of Toman about her visit to the gang. But the message made one thing clear, someone was watching her.

And if they knew about her connection to Toman, then they knew exactly how to hurt her.

—

Y/N’s hand trembled as she gripped her phone, rereading the cryptic message over and over. The implication was clear: whoever sent it knew more than she wanted them to, and it wasn’t just a warning. No, it was a threat. She had walked away from Toman to avoid being dragged into the chaos, but it seemed chaos had found her anyway.

The weight of it pressed heavily on her chest. Mikey wouldn’t take this seriously unless it was in his face. He never did. The Mikey she used to know would have been the first to protect her, but this Mikey? The one who lashed out at anyone who tried to get close? She couldn’t be sure.

Still, she couldn’t just sit back and wait for something to happen. Her thoughts swirled, landing on a decision she didn’t want to make but knew she had to.

—

The Tokyo Manji Gang’s hideout was loud, alive with laughter and shouts, but Mikey barely registered any of it. He leaned back against the wall, his arms crossed, his expression blank.

He’d spent years perfecting the art of detachment. Coldness was easier than pain, easier than pretending he could save everyone. He was supposed to be their leader, their “Invincible Mikey,” but that title had started to feel like a joke.

Y/N’s voice echoed in his head, sharp and unyielding.

“You’re acting like you’re the only one who lost something.”

It pissed him off that her words got under his skin. It pissed him off even more that a part of him knew she was right.

“Mikey,” Draken’s voice broke through the haze, snapping him back to reality. Draken always seemed to know when Mikey was spiraling, even if he never said it outright. “You good?”

Mikey shrugged, pushing off the wall. “I’m fine.”

Draken didn’t look convinced, but he let it slide. “Y/N. What’s her deal?”

Mikey tensed, his jaw tightening. “Nothing. She doesn’t matter.”

Draken raised an eyebrow. “You sure? She seemed pretty serious about whatever she came here for.”

“She shouldn’t have come,” Mikey said curtly, his tone final. “It’s not our problem anymore.”

Draken frowned, crossing his arms. “You know she’s not gonna back off just because you told her to, right?. She’s never been like that.”

Mikey didn’t respond, turning away instead.

—

The next day, Y/N found herself walking through the busy streets of Shibuya, scanning her surroundings more carefully than usual. She couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching her, but every time she turned, there was nothing.

When she finally reached the convenience store on the corner, she grabbed a drink and headed to the counter. The clerk handed her the change with a small smile, but as she turned to leave, a piece of paper slipped into her bag caught her attention.

“You should’ve stayed gone.”

The blood drained from her face as she crumpled the note in her hand. Her heart raced, the warning a confirmation that whoever this was, they were close.

—-

That evening, Draken confronted Mikey in the Toman hideout. “We’ve got a problem.”

Mikey barely looked up. “What now?”

“Y/N.”

Mikey’s gaze snapped to Draken, a flicker of something passing through his eyes. Was it concern, maybe? But it was gone before Draken could name it. “What about her?”

“She’s being targeted. Someone slipped her a warning.”

Mikey’s hands clenched into fists at his sides.

“She shouldn’t have come back,” Mikey muttered, more to himself than Draken.

Draken leaned closer, his voice low but firm. “But she did. And now she’s in danger. Are you really gonna let her deal with it on her own?”

Mikey closed his eyes, his mind warring with itself. He didn’t want to care. Caring led to loss, and he’d already lost too much.

He exhaled slowly, his voice cold but determined. “Find out who’s behind it.”

Draken smirked slightly, stepping back. “Thought you didn’t care.”

“I don’t,” Mikey shot back, but even he didn’t believe it.

—

Y/N spent the rest of the night staring at the note, her mind racing. Whoever was after her wasn’t bluffing. The memory of the clerk’s blank smile as he handed her the bag made her skin crawl. She considered going to the police, but that was laughable. This wasn’t a world the police could touch, it was Toman’s world, Mikey’s world.

Her pride told her not to go back to him, she had already alerted Draken. But logic whispered that she might not have a choice.

By morning, Y/N found herself walking through the city toward the Toman hideout. Her steps were hesitant, each one feeling heavier than the last. When she reached the building, she hesitated outside the door, steeling herself for the cold reception she knew awaited her.

The sound of laughter and shouting greeted her as she entered. Conversations died down as she stepped into view, and the gang members exchanged wary glances.

Draken was the first to notice her. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, and raised an eyebrow. “Back so soon?”

“I need to talk to Mikey,” Y/N said firmly, though her voice wavered slightly.

Draken’s expression softened just a fraction. “Wait here.”

—

Mikey was in the back room, absentmindedly tinkering with his CB250T. The steady clink of metal against metal was soothing, almost meditative. But when Draken appeared in the doorway, Mikey knew it wouldn’t last.

“She’s here,” Draken said simply.

Mikey didn’t look up. “Tell her to leave.”

Draken didn’t move. “She brought the note. I told you, someone’s after her.”

Mikey’s hand froze mid-movement. He set the wrench down carefully, the sharp clang of metal on metal the only sound in the room. Without a word, he stood and walked past Draken, his expression unreadable.

When Mikey stepped into the main room, Y/N’s eyes locked onto his. For a moment, neither of them spoke. The tension between them was palpable, the air thick with unspoken words.

“You’ve got five minutes,” Mikey said coldly, his voice cutting through the silence.

Y/N squared her shoulders, holding his gaze. “I got this last night.” She pulled the crumpled note from her pocket and handed it to him.

Mikey’s eyes scanned the paper, his expression unchanging, but Y/N could see the way his grip tightened. He folded the note neatly and slipped it into his pocket.

“Who else knows about this?” he asked.

“You and Draken,” Y/N replied. “I came straight here.”

“Good.” Mikey’s voice was clipped, his tone all business. He turned to Draken. “Double security at the usual spots. If anyone sees anything suspicious, I want to know.”

Draken nodded, already pulling out his phone to start making calls.

Mikey turned back to Y/N. “I told you, you shouldn’t have come back.”

Y/N bristled. “I didn’t have much of a choice, did I?”

His eyes narrowed. “You’re making this harder than it needs to be.”

“And you’re making it impossible to talk to you!” Y/N shot back, her frustration boiling over. “I didn’t ask for this, Mikey.”

For a moment, Mikey just stared at her, his expression unreadable. Then he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “You’re staying here until we figure this out.”

“What?” Y/N blinked, caught off guard.

“You’re a target now,” Mikey said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “If you leave, you’re on your own. And if something happens to you…” He trailed off, his jaw tightening.

Y/N opened her mouth to argue but stopped herself. There was something in his voice, something almost vulnerable that made her pause.

“Fine,” she said quietly. “But this doesn’t mean I trust you, I just need your help.”

“Good,” Mikey replied, turning away. “I don’t trust you either.”

—

Later that night, Mikey sat alone in the dimly lit room he used as an office. The crumpled note lay on the table in front of him, the words staring back at him like a taunt.

He hated this. Hated how easily Y/N had gotten under his skin again.

He told himself he didn’t care. Told himself that keeping her here was just practical, that he was protecting her because it was the right thing to do.

Y/N’s return had stirred something in him, something he thought he’d buried long ago. Memories of a time when things were simpler, when Toman wasn’t a burden and he didn’t feel like he was drowning in his own guilt.

But those days were gone, and he couldn’t let himself fall back into that softness.

“Damn it,” he muttered under his breath, rubbing his temples.

He was interrupted by a knock at the door. Draken stepped inside, his expression serious.

“We’ve got a lead,” Draken said.

Mikey stood, shoving his thoughts aside. “Let’s go.”

—

Y/N paced the small room Mikey had assigned to her in the hideout. The walls were bare, the single window overlooking nothing but an alley. She felt like a caged animal, and the fact that Mikey was the one who put her here didn’t help.

A knock on the door made her pause. Draken’s voice called through the wood. “You’ve got company.”

The door opened before she could respond, and Mikey stepped inside, his expression as blank as ever. Draken leaned against the frame, smirking slightly before disappearing down the hall, leaving the two of them alone.

“Can’t wait for you to explain why I’m being held hostage,” Y/N said, crossing her arms.

Mikey ignored her jab, leaning casually against the wall. “This isn’t a game, Y/N. If you leave, they’ll find you.”

“I know that,” she snapped.

“It’s safer this way,” Mikey said simply, his tone devoid of emotion.

“For who?” she shot back. “Me, or your ego?”

Mikey’s eyes darkened, his gaze sharp enough to make her falter. But instead of snapping back, he pushed off the wall and stepped closer. The space between them shrank until Y/N was forced to tilt her head to meet his gaze.

“You think this is about me?” he asked quietly, his voice low and dangerous. “You think I want to deal with any of this?”

Y/N opened her mouth, but no words came out. The intensity in his eyes stole whatever argument she had.

“I’m doing this because I don’t want you to get hurt,” he continued, his voice softening just a fraction. “Not because I care what you think about me.”

That last line stung more than it should have, and Y/N hated how it made her heart ache.

“Fine,” she muttered, looking away. “But don’t expect me to sit here quietly. I hate being locked up like this.”

Mikey stepped back, the coldness returning to his face. “I don’t expect anything from you.”

—

Later that evening, Y/N sat by the window, staring out at the faint glow of the streetlights yet her mind kept drifting to Mikey.

She hated how much he’d changed. The boy who used to laugh with her, who used to share his dreams of a better future, was gone. And in his place was someone colder, someone harder to reach.

But then there were moments.. fleeting, fragile moments, where she saw glimpses of the old Mikey. The way his voice softened when he talked about protecting her. The way his hands clenched when he read that note.

She was so lost in thought that she didn’t hear the door open.

“You’re still awake.”

She turned to see Mikey standing in the doorway, his silhouette outlined by the dim hallway light.

“Couldn’t sleep,” she said simply, turning back to the window. “What do you want?”

He stepped inside, his footsteps soft. “You’re making people nervous. They think you’re gonna bolt.”

Y/N smiled faintly. “I might, just to spite you.”

Mikey didn’t laugh. Instead, he moved closer, leaning against the wall across from her. For a moment, neither of them spoke. The silence was heavy but not uncomfortable.

“You used to like this view,” Mikey said suddenly, his voice quiet.

Y/N glanced at him, surprised by the unexpected comment. “You remember that?”

He shrugged, not meeting her gaze. “It’s hard to forget when you don’t shut the hell up about it.”

There was a softness in his tone that caught her off guard. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to remind her of the boy she used to know.

“What happened to you, Mikey?” she asked before she could stop herself.

He froze, his expression hardening instantly. “Don’t.”

“Mikey—”

“I said don’t,” he snapped, his voice sharper than she’d ever heard it.

“You can’t keep running from it forever, Mikey. Whatever you’re holding onto, it’s eating you alive,” Y/N said, her voice steady but soft.

Mikey’s jaw tightened, his eyes narrowing. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t I?” she challenged, standing now, her frustration bubbling to the surface. “You think I don’t see it? The way you push everyone away, the way you act like carrying all this weight by yourself is some kind of punishment you deserve?”

“You don’t know anything about me,” Mikey bit out, his tone icy.

“I know enough,” she shot back. “I know you’re not the same person you used to be. And maybe that’s my fault, maybe it’s Toman’s fault, but Mikey, you don’t have to keep pretending like you don’t feel anything. You’re not invincible, no matter how much you want everyone to believe it.”

Her words hung in the air like a challenge, daring him to respond.

Mikey took a step closer, his eyes boring into hers. For a moment, she thought he was going to lash out, but instead, he said something she didn’t expect.

“And what about you?” he asked quietly, his voice low and cutting. “You think you’re any better? You walked away. Left all of us behind.”

The accusation hit hard, and Y/N felt a pang of guilt twist in her chest. She took a deep breath, forcing herself to stay calm. “You’re right,” she admitted. “I left because I couldn’t handle it. But I’m here now, and I’m trying to fix things.”

Mikey flinched, the words striking a nerve. His expression shifted, the cold mask slipping just slightly, revealing the pain underneath.

“Fix things?” he echoed bitterly. “You can’t fix what’s already broken.”

“Maybe not,” Y/N said softly. “But you don’t have to break with it.”

The room fell silent, the tension between them palpable. Mikey turned away, running a hand through his hair. For the first time, he looked tired, the weight of his burdens visible in the slump of his shoulders.

“I didn’t ask for any of this,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper.

Y/N’s heart ached at the vulnerability in his tone. She wanted to reach out, to tell him he didn’t have to carry everything alone. But she knew better than to push him too far.

“I know,” she said gently. “But you don’t have to do it alone, Mikey. You’ve still got people who care about you, whether you believe it or not.”

He glanced at her then, his eyes filled with something she couldn’t quite name. Anger, pain, maybe even a flicker of hope. But just as quickly, the walls went back up.

“Get some sleep,” he said abruptly, walking toward the door.

“Mikey—”

“Just… stay out of trouble,” he muttered before slipping out of the room, leaving Y/N alone with her thoughts.

—

Mikey didn’t go far. He leaned against the wall just outside Y/N’s room, staring at the floor as her words replayed in his head.

“You don’t have to break with it.”

He wanted to scoff, to dismiss her as naive, but the truth was, she wasn’t wrong. He’d been breaking for years, piece by piece, and he didn’t know how to stop it.

Letting her back in was dangerous. It stirred up memories he’d tried to bury. Good ones.

But it also reminded him of what he’d lost.

Mikey closed his eyes, exhaling slowly. He told himself he didn’t care about Y/N, that her safety was just another problem to solve. But deep down, he knew it wasn’t that simple.

He’d pushed her away to protect her, to keep her from getting hurt. But now that she was back, he couldn’t shake the fear that she’d become another name on the list of people he’d failed to save.

“You’ve still got people who care about you.”

Mikey straightened, pushing the thoughts aside. There was no room for weakness, no room for feelings. He couldn’t afford it.

As he walked away, he couldn’t help but glance back at the door. But he didn’t turn around.

—

The next morning, Y/N emerged from her room to find Mikey sitting in the common area, leaning back in a chair with his arms crossed. He looked as unbothered as ever, but there was an edge to his expression that set her on edge.

“Sleep well?” he asked without looking at her, his voice dripping with indifference.

Y/N rolled her eyes, walking past him toward the kitchen. “Don’t pretend like you care.”

“I don’t,” Mikey replied flatly. “But you’re still my responsibility until this is over.”

That word responsibility stung. It made her feel like a burden, like she was just another problem for him to deal with.

Y/N spun around to face him, her temper flaring. “I’m not some helpless little girl you have to babysit, Mikey.”

He finally looked up at her, his eyes cold and unyielding. “Could’ve fooled me. You’re the one who came running to Toman for help.”

“That’s because I don’t have an army of delinquents at my beck and call!” she shot back, her voice rising. “And maybe I wouldn’t have to if you and your gang weren’t the reason I’m being targeted in the first place!”

The room went deadly silent.

Mikey stood, his movements slow and deliberate. Despite his smaller stature, the intensity in his eyes made him seem large. He stepped closer, his voice quiet but laced with steel. “You think this is my fault?”

Y/N refused to back down, even as her heart pounded in her chest. “Yes, Mikey. Your world dragged me into this. Your decisions. Your mess.”

Mikey’s jaw tightened, his fists clenching at his sides. “You don’t know anything about my decisions. You don’t know what I’ve had to do to keep everyone alive.”

“And whose fault is that?” she countered, her voice shaking with emotion. “You shut everyone out, Mikey. You act like you’re the only one who’s ever lost anything, the only one who’s ever had to make sacrifices. But newsflash: you’re not!”

His eyes flared with something dangerous. For a moment, she thought he was going to lash out. Instead, he took a step back, running a hand through his hair.

“Fuck off,” he said through gritted teeth.

“What?”

“You heard me,” he snapped, his voice rising for the first time. “I don’t need this right now. Go back to your room and stay there.”

Y/N’s breath hitched, but she didn’t move. “No. You don’t get to tell me to fuck off just because you can’t handle the truth.”

Mikey’s eyes locked onto hers, and for a moment, she saw the storm raging inside him. Anger, pain, guilt, it was all there, barely contained.

“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about,” he said, his voice shaking with barely suppressed emotion. “You don’t know what it’s like to lose everything.”

Y/N’s chest tightened, her own emotions threatening to spill over. “And AGAIN, whose fault is that, Mikey? Who keeps pushing everyone away? Who makes it impossible for anyone to stay?”

His breath hitched, the words cutting deeper than she realized. For a split second, the mask slipped, and she saw the boy he used to be, the one who laughed with her, who dreamed of a better future.

But then the walls went back up as they always did.

“Fine,” Mikey said coldly. “You want to blame me for everything? Go ahead I don’t care.”

Y/N’s voice softened, a crack in her defiance. “You do care, Mikey. That’s the problem. You care so much it’s killing you.”

He froze, the words hanging in the air like a challenge. But instead of responding, he turned and walked away, leaving her standing there with tears threatening to spill.

—

Mikey didn’t stop walking until he was outside, the cold air making him flinch. He leaned against his bike, his hands trembling as he tried to steady his breathing.

Her words replayed in his mind, each one cutting deeper than the last.

For years, he’d told himself that shutting people out was the only way to protect them. But he wasn’t protecting anyone. He was just running away.

—

The following days were an uneasy truce at best. Mikey avoided Y/N whenever possible, retreating into his responsibilities as Toman’s leader. She, in turn, kept her distance, spending her time pacing the hideout or glaring out the window, frustration simmering just beneath the surface.

But the tension between them was impossible to ignore. Every glance, every exchange, was charged, as though they were waiting for the next explosion.

—

Y/N was in the middle of the main room, sparring with Mitsuya. Draken had suggested it as a way to keep her busy, but Mikey wasn’t thrilled about it. He watched from the corner, arms crossed, his jaw clenched as Y/N blocked a punch and landed one of her own.

Mitsuya stumbled back, clutching his side. “Damn, Y/N,” he muttered with a sheepish grin. “You don’t pull punches, do you?”

Y/N smirked, wiping sweat from her brow. “You said you wanted me to try.”

The room erupted into laughter, and for a moment, the mood was light. But Mikey’s eyes stayed locked on Y/N, a storm brewing behind them.

When the sparring match ended, Mikey pushed off the wall and walked toward her.

“You’re done,” he said curtly.

Y/N turned to him, surprised. “Excuse me?”

“I said you’re done,” Mikey repeated, his voice cold. “This isn’t a playground. You’re not here to prove anything.”

She bristled at his tone, crossing her arms. “I wasn’t proving anything. I was trying to be useful.”

“You want to be useful?” Mikey snapped. “Stay out of the way.”

The room went silent, everyone watching the confrontation unfold.

Y/N’s cheeks burned, but she refused to back down. “You really are unbelievable, you know that? All I’ve done is try to help!”

Mikey’s eyes narrowed. “Help? By making yourself an even bigger target? By getting involved in things you don’t understand?”

“I understand more than you think, Mikey,” she shot back, her voice rising. “I understand that you’re so used to being in control that you can’t handle the idea of someone else stepping in. God forbid anyone actually cares enough to try!”

“Care?” Mikey scoffed, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “You don’t care about me. You just feel guilty because you walked away.”

The words hit like a slap, and Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. For a moment, the pain in her eyes was unmistakable.

“And what about you?” she asked quietly, her voice trembling with barely suppressed emotion. “You act like I abandoned you, but you never gave me a reason to stay. You pushed me away, Mikey. You made it impossible.”

Mikey froze, the accusation striking a nerve he didn’t want to acknowledge.

Y/N stepped closer, her voice dropping. “You think I wanted to leave? You think it didn’t kill me to walk away? I didn’t have a choice, Mikey. You made sure of that.”

The room was suffocatingly silent, the tension so thick it was hard to breathe.

Mikey’s fists clenched at his sides, his expression unreadable. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t I?” she challenged. “Or are you just too scared to admit that maybe, just maybe, you’re the one who’s been running this whole time?”

—

Mikey turned and stormed out, his footsteps echoing in the quiet room. Y/N watched him go, her chest heaving with the weight of their argument.

Draken approached her cautiously, his expression unreadable. “You sure know how to piss him off.”

“He’s the one who keeps pushing me,” she muttered, puffing her cheeks and crossing her arms. But even as she said it, the guilt gnawed at her.

Draken sighed, glancing toward the door Mikey had disappeared through. “He’s not as cold as he wants you to think, you know. He’s just… complicated.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Y/N muttered.

Draken gave her a pointed look. “He’s been through more than most people could survive. You should keep that in mind before you rip into him.”

Y/N frowned, guilt settling deeper in her chest. “I didn’t mean to..-”

“I know,” Draken said, cutting her off. “But he’s not the only one who needs to figure things out. You’ve got your own shit to deal with.”

—

Mikey paced outside, the cold air doing little to calm the storm raging inside him.

He hated that she could see right through him, even when he tried so hard to keep everyone at arm’s length.

“Why does she care so much?” he muttered to himself, running a hand through his hair.

Because she always had. That was the truth he didn’t want to face. No matter how much time had passed, no matter how much he pushed her away, Y/N had always been the one person who refused to give up on him.

And that terrified him more than anything.

—

The night was silent, the hideout bathed in shadows as Mikey sat alone in the dimly lit back room. His motorcycle keys dangled from his fingers, the faint jingling the only sound breaking the stillness.

He’d come here to escape, to get away from the noise, the people, and most of all, from her.

Mikey clenched his teeth, tossing the keys onto the table. They clattered against the surface, the sound sharp.

She was wrong. She had to be.

Was he running?

No, he wasn’t running. He was surviving.

But then why did it feel like he was suffocating?

Mikey leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His hands trembled slightly, but he clenched them into fists, forcing the weakness away. He couldn’t afford to feel. Not now. Not ever.

Feelings made you vulnerable. Feelings got people killed.

And yet, no matter how hard he tried to bury them, they always found a way to surface. Memories of Emma’s smile, of Baji’s laugh, of the warmth of the family they used to be.

Of Y/N’s voice, challenging him, grounding him, refusing to let him disappear.

Mikey exhaled shakily, pressing his palms against his eyes. He hated himself for the part of him that still cared, the part that still wanted to believe there was a way out of this.

Because deep down, he knew the truth.

There wasn’t.

Not for him.

—

Y/N couldn’t sleep. The argument with Mikey had left her restless, her mind spinning with everything they’d said.

She wandered the halls of the hideout, her footsteps soft against the floor. It wasn’t until she passed the back room that she heard it, the faint clatter of something hitting the table.

Curiosity, or maybe concern, got the better of her. She pushed the door open slightly, peering inside.

Mikey sat in the corner, his head bowed, his hands clenched into fists. He looked smaller somehow, the weight of his burdens pressing down on him.

For a moment, Y/N hesitated. She wasn’t sure if she was ready to face him again, especially not like this. But something about the way he sat there, so utterly alone, pulled at her.

“Mikey?” she called softly, stepping into the room.

His head snapped up, his eyes narrowing as he glared at her. “What do you want?”

Y/N flinched at the coldness in his tone but didn’t back down. “I couldn’t sleep. I heard something and thought… I don’t know. I thought maybe you needed someone to talk to.”

“I don’t,” he said sharply, his voice like ice. “Go back to your room.”

She ignored him, crossing her arms as she stepped closer. “Too bad. I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s going on.”

Mikey stood abruptly, the sudden movement startling her. His eyes were dark, void of the warmth they once held.

“What’s going on?” he repeated bitterly, his voice low and dangerous. “You want to know what’s going on, Y/N? Fine. I’m trying to figure out how to keep you alive, I’m trying to keep this gang together while everyone I’ve ever cared about is either dead or gone. And I’m trying not to lose my goddamn mind in the process.”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat. She’d seen Mikey angry before, but this was different. This was raw.

“Mikey…” she began, her voice soft.

“Don’t,” he snapped, stepping closer. His presence was overwhelming, his anger palpable. “Don’t stand there and act like you understand. You don’t know what it’s like. You don’t know what I’ve done, what I’ve lost.”

“Then tell me,” she said, her voice trembling. “Let me in, Mikey. Let me help you.”

He laughed bitterly, the sound hollow. “Help? You can’t help me. No one can. This is who I am, Y/N.”

“That’s not true,” she said firmly, stepping closer despite the fear twisting in her chest. “You’re still in there, Mikey. I see it. I see you.”

“You don’t see anything,” he growled, his voice breaking. “You’re just too stubborn to let go. But you should. You should walk away, Y/N. Before it’s too late.”

Her eyes burned with unshed tears, but she refused to look away. “You don’t get to decide that for me.”

Mikey’s breath hitched, his composure cracking. For a moment, he looked at her like he was drowning, like he was desperate for someone to pull him out of the darkness.

But then the mask fell back into place, and he stepped back, his expression cold once more.

“Go to bed, Y/N,” he said quietly, his voice void of emotion.

She opened her mouth to protest, but the look in his eyes stopped her. He wasn’t just pushing her away, he was trying to protect her.

Without another word, Y/N turned and left, her heart heavy with the weight of what she’d seen.

As the door closed behind her, Mikey sank back into the chair, his head in his hands.

For the first time in years, he let the tears fall.

He hated her for caring. Hated her for not giving up on him.

But most of all, he hated himself for needing her.

Y/N paused in the doorway, her hand still on the handle, her mind racing. Mikey’s words stung, but more than that, the emptiness in his eyes… it wasn’t something she could walk away from. The door was still cracked, and she could hear his uneven breathing. The tension in the room was thick enough to choke on, but she couldn’t leave him like this.

Slowly, almost hesitantly, she turned around and walked back into the room, her footsteps quiet but determined. Mikey didn’t hear her approach until she stopped right in front of him. He looked up sharply, his face a mask of indifference, but there was something raw behind his eyes. It was a fragility he hadn’t allowed anyone to see in a long time.

“Y/N,” he muttered, his voice hoarse, as if just speaking the words took effort. “I told you to leave.”

But Y/N wasn’t going anywhere. She crouched in front of him, her gaze softening, and reached out to place a hand on his. For a moment, Mikey tensed, his body stiffening as though he expected her to pull away at the slightest sign of weakness. But she didn’t.

“Mikey…” she whispered, her voice soft. “You don’t have to do this alone. You don’t have to carry all of it by yourself.”

Mikey’s jaw clenched, and his breath hitched. He wanted to pull away, to shut her out like he always did, but something inside him, something that he’d buried deep for so long, urged him to listen.

“You think I’m weak, don’t you?” he muttered bitterly, the words almost like a confession. “That’s what this is about. You think I can’t handle it.. handle this… this thing inside me.”

Y/N shook her head, her thumb gently brushing over his hand as she leaned in closer. “No, Mikey. I don’t think you’re weak. I think you’re trying to be strong in a way that’s breaking you.”

He exhaled sharply, as though the weight of her words hit him all at once. Mikey pulled his hand away from hers, running it through his messy hair in frustration. “You don’t know what it’s like to lose everything. To watch the people you love die because you couldn’t protect them.”

Her voice was steady when she responded, her eyes unwavering as she watched him struggle. “You’re not the only one who lost Baji and Emma, Mikey. We all did...”

Mikey’s expression darkened, a flicker of the familiar coldness returning to his features. “You don’t get it,” he spat, the venom in his words laced with pain. “You think you can fix me? You think you can just waltz in and tell me it’ll be okay? It won’t be.”

Y/N’s heart ached as the walls Mikey had built around himself started to crack. But instead of backing away, she closed the distance between them, her voice a whisper now, fragile and unyielding.

“I’m not trying to fix you, Mikey,” she said softly. “I’m just trying to be here. Because I care. Because you don’t have to carry everything on your own.”

For the first time since she’d entered the room, Mikey’s defenses seemed to falter. His lips parted, but no words came out, his throat constricting as though the weight of everything was finally too much to bear.

Y/N watched him, her heart breaking as she saw the layers of exhaustion, anger, and sorrow etched into his face. Mikey wasn’t just fighting the world around him; he was fighting himself. And it was killing him.

He stood abruptly, his hands shaking as he paced the room. “You don’t understand. If I stop… if I let anyone in, it’ll all come crashing down. Toman, everything I’ve built.. it’ll all fall apart.”

Y/N stood slowly, her eyes fixed on him as she took a step forward. “You think it’s all on you? You think you have to carry the weight of Toman and everyone’s lives on your own? Mikey, that’s not the way it works. That’s not the way we work.”

He froze, the words hanging in the air. His chest heaved with each breath, his shoulders tense as though every muscle in his body was fighting against her.

“I’ve lost everything,” he whispered, his voice almost cracking. “Everything and everyone. I can’t do it again. I can’t…”

Y/N closed the remaining distance between them, her hand gently reaching out to touch his arm. “Then let me be here, Mikey. Let me help you carry it… even if it’s just for a little while. You don’t have to be alone.”

The air between them thickened, and for a moment, Mikey felt like he was drowning. The years of pain, the guilt, the loneliness, everything collided in that single moment. He wanted to pull away. He wanted to shut down, to push her away as he’d done with everyone else.

But the warmth of her touch, the steadiness in her eyes; it reached him in a way he couldn’t explain. He felt a pull, a desperate need to reach out, even if it scared him.

And then, finally, Mikey spoke, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I don’t know how to do this anymore,” he admitted, his eyes clouded with vulnerability.

Y/N’s heart softened, and she reached up, cupping his face with both hands. “You don’t have to know. We can figure it out together.”

He swallowed hard, his eyes searching hers, looking for any sign that this wasn’t a mistake. That maybe, he wasn’t as alone as he thought.

And in that moment, for the first time in what felt like forever, Mikey let himself believe it.

The silence in the room was heavy, but this time it wasn’t oppressive. It wasn’t suffocating. It was fragile, the kind that came before something important.

Mikey stood still, his breath ragged and uneven as Y/N’s words echoed in his mind. “We can figure it out together.”

Those words had broken through the walls he’d spent years constructing, the cold, unfeeling fortress that had kept everyone at arm’s length. In that moment, with her standing before him, her eyes filled with a quiet compassion he’d never allowed himself to fully accept, something inside him shifted.

He was always used to being the one who held it all together. The one who pushed forward, even when the weight of the world threatened to crush him. But the truth was, he was tired. He was so goddamn tired of pretending he could do it alone.

And maybe, just maybe, he didn’t have to anymore.

Y/N didn’t say anything. She didn’t need to. She just stepped closer to him, her gaze unwavering, and without thinking, Mikey found himself pulling her into him, his arms wrapping around her as if the simple act could somehow erase the burden that had been dragging him down for so long.

At first, Y/N tensed, caught off guard by the sudden closeness. But then she relaxed into his embrace, resting her cheek against his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath her ear. It wasn’t just the physical contact, it was the unspoken understanding between them that nothing had to be said.

Mikey’s hand slid to the back of her head, his fingers tangling in her hair as if grounding himself in her. She could feel the tension in his muscles, the restraint, but there was something vulnerable beneath the surface.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. They didn’t need to. The silence between them wasn’t empty, it was filled with everything they hadn’t been able to say before, the things that had been left unsaid for too long.

But slowly, Mikey’s grip on her tightened, and when he finally spoke, his voice was low, almost too soft to hear.

“I don’t know how to let people in, Y/N,” he whispered, his words barely more than a breath. “I’ve never known how.”

Y/N’s hand found its way to his back, her fingers tracing gentle circles against the fabric of his jacket. She pulled back slightly, her eyes meeting his, searching for something in the depths of his gaze. “I’m not going anywhere, Mikey.”

Her words hit him harder than he expected, and before he could stop himself, his lips were on hers. It wasn’t a kiss of passion, not at first, it was slow, tentative, a silent plea for connection. It was a kiss of surrender, of finally giving in to the vulnerability they’d both been avoiding for so long.

Y/N kissed him back gently, feeling the weight of his emotions, the depth of his struggles, all of it pouring into the simple act. Mikey’s lips were trembling, as if this moment was too fragile to hold onto, but she kissed him harder, trying to remind him that this they were real.

When they pulled apart, Mikey’s forehead rested against hers, and he exhaled shakily. “I don’t deserve this,” he muttered, the words slipping out before he could stop them.

Y/N smiled softly, her hands still resting on his chest, feeling the beat of his heart steadying. “No one deserves to carry everything alone, Mikey. Not you. Not anyone.” She lifted her chin, looking up at him with unwavering trust in her eyes. “Whatever comes next… we’ll face it together. You don’t have to be alone anymore.”

He wasn’t sure how it would all work out. He wasn’t sure if they were ready for what came next. He looked down at her, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Together, huh?” he repeated, his voice barely more than a whisper.

“Together,” she affirmed, her hands resting over his heart.

—

The days after Mikey and Y/N’s moment of vulnerability were different—quieter, but also more strained. They had both crossed a line, a boundary neither of them thought they’d ever approach. But with the faintest spark of hope, Mikey seemed… changed. He didn’t push her away as much, but there was a darkness that still lingered in his eyes, one that reminded her that the past hadn’t been fully laid to rest.

Mikey didn’t talk about it. He never did. But his moods shifted unpredictably, and Y/N found herself walking on eggshells, wondering when the next storm would hit. It was hard for her not to feel the weight of the silence between them, but she’d made her choice. She wasn’t going anywhere.

—

The first sign of trouble came in the form of a sudden, urgent meeting. Mikey didn’t say much as he gathered his inner circle, his eyes scanning the room coldly, but there was something in his demeanor that suggested this wasn’t just another Toman routine.

“Listen up,” Mikey said, his voice low and sharp. “We’ve got a problem. There’s a new group moving in on our turf. They’ve been making waves, trying to claim territory—spreading rumors about Toman’s decline.” His eyes flicked to Chifuyu, who was sitting nearby, his expression tight with concern.

“Who are they?” Chifuyu asked, already knowing this wasn’t something that would resolve itself without a fight.

“Doesn’t matter,” Mikey snapped, his usual nonchalance replaced by something colder. His eyes snapped to Y/N, which was a sure tell these were the people after her. All eyes were on Y/N now.

“They’re fucking with the wrong people. We deal with this, and we do it fast. No hesitation.”

Y/N, standing at the back of the room, exchanged a glance with Takemichi. She could see the tension in his posture, and his nervousness mirrored her own. Takemichi had been through too much to remain unaffected by this, even though he tried to mask it. But she could feel Mikey’s coldness, a sharp edge that was more familiar to her than she wanted to admit.

“We can’t just rush into this, Mikey,” Takemichi spoke up, the words coming out more forcefully than he probably intended. “We need a plan. We don’t know what we’re dealing with.”

Mikey’s eyes narrowed. “The only plan is to take them down. If you’re scared, Takemichi, I can handle this without you.”

The words stung, a reminder of the difference between them. Mikey was always in control. Always. He never needed anyone, and he certainly never needed anyone to question him.

Y/N stepped forward before Takemichi could respond. “Mikey, this isn’t just about us anymore. If this group is challenging us, we need to be smart about it.”

Mikey’s gaze flicked to her, the icy edge returning. “And what the fuck do you think you know about it?” His voice was colder than ever. “Stay out of it, Y/N. It might be your fault but this isn’t your fight.”

The words hit her like a slap in the face. She was used to Mikey’s coldness, but there was something cruel in his tone this time, something sharper, as if he was intentionally pushing her away.

“You can’t keep me out of it,” she shot back, meeting his gaze. “I’m in this as much as you are.”

Mikey clenched his fists, his jaw twitching with restrained anger. “You think I care about what you think? Keep pushing, and you’ll regret it.”

There was a brief silence before Chifuyu broke it with a sigh. “Mikey, this isn’t the time for that.” He shot Mikey a look that, even if subtle, held a weight of years of friendship. “We’ll deal with it, but we need to think this through. We can’t go in blind.”

Mikey finally exhaled, his shoulders dropping slightly in what seemed like a reluctant concession. “Fine,” he muttered, his tone still icy. “We’ll make a plan. But we’re moving fast. No room for mistakes.”

—

The next few days were a blur of preparation. They gathered intel, planned their moves, and prepared for an inevitable confrontation. Toman’s name was on the line, and Mikey wasn’t about to let anyone tarnish the legacy they’d fought so hard to build, certainly not for Y/N.

—

It was late one night when the inevitable happened. A member of the rival gang ambushed one of Toman’s scouts. Mikey was livid.

“You’re all fucking dead,” he snarled to his closest circle. “Get ready. We’ll show them what happens when you mess with Toman.”

The group suited up, preparing for battle. Y/N could feel the tension in the air, the weight of the approaching fight settling over her like a shroud. She was used to danger, but something about this felt different. Mikey was different.

And she couldn’t shake the feeling that whatever was about to happen would change everything between them.

—

The night air was thick with tension as Toman’s forces clashed with the rival gang. It was chaotic. Fists, metal, and shouting filled the streets as the two sides collided in a brutal act of violence. Mikey was at the center of it all, his movements precise and deadly, a testament to the years of bloodshed and loss he’d endured. But there was something almost frenzied in his attacks, as if the anger he’d been holding back had finally spilled over, and now there was nothing left to control it.

Y/N wasn’t far behind, her instincts kicking in as she fought beside Takemichi and Chifuyu, each of them trying to keep pace with the ruthless violence around them. She could feel Mikey’s presence in the midst of it all. Cold, lethal, and completely in control. But this time, it wasn’t the same. There was something darker in the way he fought, something that made her stomach churn.

When she found him amidst the chaos, his face was painted with rage. His movements were brutal, calculated, and unyielding. He was a force of nature. And yet, Y/N could see the strain behind his eyes, something she hadn’t seen before. Mikey was always the one to hold everything together, but in this moment, she saw the cracks.

She moved toward him, her voice barely audible over the sounds of his deadly punches and kicks. “Mikey stop!”

He didn’t hear her. Or if he did, he didn’t care. His rage had consumed him completely.

“Mikey!” she shouted again, her voice sharp and urgent.

This time, he turned to face her, his eyes wild and filled with something dangerous. “Stay out of it!” he yelled, his voice strained. “You left this to me. This isn’t your fight anymore.”

But she didn’t back down. “It’s always been my fight, Mikey. I’m not leaving you to do this alone.”

For a moment, it seemed like his resolve cracked. But then, just as quickly, the darkness in his eyes hardened, and he shoved her back, his face twisting in anger.

“Don’t fucking touch me!” he snarled, his voice laced with venom.

Y/N blinked, hurt flashing in her chest, but she refused to let it show. She clenched her fists and stood tall. “I’m not afraid of you, Mikey.”

For a heartbeat, the chaos around them stopped. The air seemed to crackle with the tension between them. But it was fleeting. Mikey turned back, ignoring her once more, his attention focused solely on the destruction around him.

The night was tense, the air thick with the violence and the smell of blood. Toman’s usual recklessness had been tempered by Mikey’s controlled rage, his mind locked into the rhythm of the fight. This wasn’t just about territory or power anymore, it was personal. It was about Y/N and he knew it.

Y/N had been right there by Mikey’s side. It wasn’t that she felt invincible; it was that she’d learned long ago not to flinch when blood was spilled. But she was in the middle of the chaos, her focus split between keeping her own footing and watching Mikey’s back.

The fight got out of control fast.

In the confusion, a man from the rival gang found his opportunity. He lunged at Y/N from behind, delivering a brutal punch to her ribs that sent her crashing to the ground, pain shooting through her side like a knife. She gasped, scrambling to push herself up, but the pressure in her chest was unbearable. Her vision swam, and the air in her lungs felt trapped.

Mikey was caught up in the fight, unaware of her. She opened her mouth to call his name, but no sound came out as her body gave way, collapsing to the ground.

Her head hit the pavement with a thud, pain spreading through her like fire.

“Mikey…” she whispered, her voice weak. She tried to stand, but her legs gave out beneath her. The pain was unbearable. Her ribs were broken, each breath more painful than the last.

Just then, a shadow fell over her. She blinked, the figure above her coming into focus. It was Draken. His face hard with determination.

“Shit, Y/N!” Draken’s voice was low, but there was no mistaking the urgency in it.

Y/N tried to speak, but her chest was too tight. She barely managed to shake her head. “Mikey… I need him…”

Draken glanced over at the chaos unfolding and saw Mikey still absorbed in the battle, completely unaware of what had just happened to her. His lips pressed into a thin line.

“You’re not waiting on him,” Draken said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. He wasn’t here for sentiment; he was here to make sure she wasn’t going to get herself killed. “Come on, we’re getting you out of here.”

Y/N couldn’t argue with that. The pain in her side was searing, and Draken’s grip was the only thing keeping her from collapsing. She let him guide her away from the immediate danger, her head still spinning, but as they moved further from the chaos, her thoughts swirled back to Mikey.

Draken helped her find a place to sit against a wall, his movements quick and efficient, but he didn’t linger. He was simply doing his job, ensuring she was okay while Mikey was still caught up in the fight.

“Just rest here. Try not to fall asleep, you understand me?” The urgency apparent in Draken’s voice.

Y/N’s heart still raced as she tried to steady her breathing. She hated the weakness she felt. How far from the action she had been forced to retreat. How much Mikey probably didn’t even care.

Mikey had been too focused on the fight to notice the shift in the air. It wasn’t until he caught a glimpse of Draken helping Y/N to safety that a knot of panic twisted in his gut.

It was an odd feeling, one he’d never quite allowed himself to dwell on before. He could hear his own pulse in his ears as he watched her, her face pale, her body fragile in Draken’s hold.

He pushed through the remaining chaos, slicing through the mess of bodies, his focus solely on her. When he reached them, he found Draken helping Y/N to sit against the wall, her expression dazed. Draken stepped back immediately, glancing at Mikey, but saying nothing. He’d done his part.

“What the hell happened?” Mikey demanded, his voice low, sharp.

“She got hit hard,” Draken replied quickly. “Her ribs….”

Mikey’s fists clenched, and without another word, he turned toward Y/N, his gaze cold. His eyes flicked over her injuries, and he noticed how pale she was, the blood seeping through her clothes.

“Mikey…” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “I just…”

“Stay the fuck down,” Mikey snapped, his tone harsh, but his eyes betrayed something else. He was furious at the situation, at her.

Y/N, still struggling to keep her composure, finally spoke again, her voice hoarse. “I’m sorry… I just wanted to help. I didn’t want to be a liability…”

Mikey stood over her, fighting to keep his own emotions in check. Liability? He was the one who had let her come here, and yet, she was here, injured. The anger surged within him, and he forced himself to look away.

“Get her patched up,” Mikey growled at Draken, his voice low and dangerous. “I’m not here to babysit.”

Without waiting for a response, Mikey turned and walked off, disappearing back into the fight. But his mind wasn’t on the battle. It was on her—on the way he had failed to protect her, on the way her voice had sounded so small and broken.

—

The fight had escalated beyond anything the members of Toman had expected. The rival gang was more organized, more ruthless, and seemed hell-bent on pushing Toman to their breaking point. Mikey, ever the calm center amidst the storm, was no longer just a symbol of power; he was a brutal force on the battlefield. His fists moved like lightning, dispatching enemies with cold precision, his thoughts a blur of strategy as he led Toman forward.

Chifuyu’s eyes never left Mikey. They had fought together countless times, but tonight felt different. Something was off. The rival gang was adapting to their tactics, and it was clear they weren’t just after a win, they wanted to break Toman. Chifuyu had seen it before, and he knew that desperation could be as dangerous as any weapon.

“Watch your back!” Chifuyu yelled to Takemichi, pulling him out of the way as a rival gang member lunged with a knife. Takemichi’s eyes were wide, his usual uncertainty a liability in the chaos, but Chifuyu’s quick reaction saved him from a nasty cut.

“Thanks, Chifuyu,” Takemichi gasped, eyes wide with fear. His hands trembled but he didn’t have time to process it. He wasn’t about to let Toman fall apart, not while they still had a chance.

“No time for thanks, idiot!” Chifuyu shot back with a smirk, although his face was hard with focus. “Stay sharp.”

Hakkai and Nahoya were causing havoc on the frontlines, the two of them working in perfect sync, though their styles were worlds apart. Nahoya’s punches were wild, unpredictable, each one more vicious than the last, while Hakkai was fluid, precise, dismantling the opposition with a quiet ferocity that was nearly as dangerous as Nahoya’s chaos.

“You’ve got a problem, man!” Nahoya yelled, cracking one of the rival gang members with a sharp right hook. “You think you can take us down so easily?”

“You’re not doing this alone, dumbass,” Hakkai shot back, his voice steady even as he knocked another opponent off balance. “Focus.”

The ground beneath them shook with the force of fists meeting flesh, the noise of the clash deafening. Souya had found his rhythm, taking down one rival after another with cold detachment. His style was brutal, no frills—just raw, unrelenting power. He wasn’t there for show; he was there to win.

“Fuckers don’t know who they’re messing with,” Souya muttered under his breath, taking out an opponent with a clean jab to the throat.

Meanwhile, Draken, was pushing forward, his eyes scanning for the weak spots in the rival gang’s formation. His broad frame cut through the chaos like a battering ram, every blow landing with the kind of intensity that shook the ground.

“Fall back, Mikey’s giving the signal!” Draken barked at a group of younger Toman members, pulling them out of harm’s way as Mikey advanced. The sound of Draken’s voice was like a rope, pulling them back from the edge of the madness.

Mitsuya moved with the grace of a dancer, but there was nothing graceful about the violence of his strikes. His focus was unshakable, his movements perfect. His eyes scanned the lot, quickly analyzing the shifting tactics of the rival gang and adjusting accordingly.

“Don’t let them get too close!” Mitsuya called out, pushing back a group of attackers with ease, his face a mask of determination. “They’re getting desperate, and that’s when they’ll make mistakes.”

Takemichi, still shaken but now pushing through his fear, turned to face the battle with resolve. The chaos around him was overwhelming, but there was no turning back. He’d promised to help Mikey and the others, and he wasn’t about to falter now. He clenched his fists and rushed toward the thick of the fight.

“Chifuyu! I’m with you!” Takemichi shouted, his voice trembling but clear.

Chifuyu glanced over at Takemichi, the briefest flicker of a smile crossing his face. “Good. We’ll clear the path for Mikey.”

As the fight dragged on, the tension grew palpable. Mikey’s frustration was apparent. The rival gang was relentless, but he could see the cracks in their formation. They were fighting for more than just territory, they were fighting with a hatred that felt personal.

And Mikey wasn’t about to let that kind of hatred win.

“Push forward!” Mikey yelled, his voice cutting through the noise. “Take them down!”

His words were like a rallying cry, a signal to every Toman member to dig deeper, to fight harder. The group of Toman fighters, tired and bloodied, surged forward as one, a united force breaking through the rival gang’s defense line.

Draken’s voice echoed across the battlefield, low and commanding, “Keep the pressure on! We’re not letting up.”

But as Mikey moved into the thick of the fight, his eyes flicked to the side, and for just a brief moment, his attention faltered. In that split second, an opponent lunged at him, but Draken’s fist connected with the rival gang member’s jaw, sending him crashing to the ground.

Mikey’s gaze locked onto Draken’s for a brief second, their eyes meeting in a silent exchange. No words were needed. Draken had done his part. And Mikey knew he couldn’t afford to lose focus. He’d take it from here.

Mitsuya, Hakkai, and the others were right behind him, and together, they stormed through the remaining rival gang members. There was no stopping them now.

The rival gang had underestimated Toman. And now, they would learn just how dangerous it was to cross them.

The air was thick with the scent of sweat and blood. The battle had raged on for what felt like hours, but now it was coming to a head. The rival gang was falling apart, their forces thinning as Toman pushed forward with relentless force. Mikey’s focus had never been sharper. His eyes, usually playful and light, were now a cold steel—deadly and unwavering. This was it. The moment where Toman either stood victorious or faltered.

“Keep going!” Mikey shouted, his voice slicing through the chaos. “We finish this now!”

Toman surged forward, responding to Mikey’s command with undeniable loyalty. The enemy had been worn down, but there was one final obstacle standing in their way. The leader of the rival gang, a tall, imposing figure with a dangerous air about him. His eyes locked onto Mikey, his lips curling into a sneer as he stood amidst the wreckage of his defeated men.

“Manjiro Sano,” the rival gang leader growled, his voice low and venomous. “You really think you can take everything from me? You’re nothing but a cocky little brat playing king in a ruined kingdom.”

Mikey’s expression remained unreadable, the flames of battle still flickering in his gaze.

The rival gang leader Kuroda. He stepped forward, drawing a blade from his side. “Let’s see how long you last, you little shit.”

Before Mikey could respond, a gunshot rang out, followed by a sharp scream. Y/N’s voice cut through the chaos.

Mikey’s heart jolted, but he didn’t flinch. The fight wasn’t over, and he couldn’t lose focus. Across from him, Kuroda’s gaze shifted toward the sound, a sinister smirk spreading across his face.

“There she is,” Kuroda said coldly. “Mine all mine.”

Y/N was cornered, struggling to hold her ground, but Kuroda’s attention was locked on her.

Mikey’s jaw clenched. He didn’t have time to hesitate. This needed to end, and it needed to end now.

“You’re not touching her,” Mikey growled, stepping forward. His voice, so sharp and controlled, sent a ripple through the remaining fighters on both sides. “You want to fight me? Fine. But Y/N stays out of this.”

Kuroda scoffed, a wicked laugh escaping him. “You think I care about your rules, little king? You’ve already lost, Sano. She’s mine.”

Mikey’s lips curled into a cold smile, his eyes hardening. “That’s where you’re wrong.”

In an instant, Mikey closed the distance between them. He moved with the kind of speed that was almost inhuman, his foot snapping out in a deadly arc as he landed a crushing, bone shattering kick straight into Kuroda’s chest. The impact was like a thunderclap, the force sending the rival gang leader flying backward, his body crashing into a nearby wall.

The battlefield seemed to freeze for a moment, the noise of the fight dying down as everyone turned to witness the devastating blow.

Mikey stood tall, his foot still raised from the powerful kick, his breath steady but his eyes burning with fury. He wasn’t done yet.

“Get up,” Mikey spat, his voice laced with venom. “I’m not finished with you.”

Kuroda groaned from the ground, blood dripping from his mouth as he struggled to push himself up. His eyes burned with rage, but there was fear now, too. Mikey had shattered his confidence with one strike. The man had underestimated the leader of Toman, and now he was paying the price.

Mikey closed the distance once more, his steps deliberate, his body moving with deadly intent. “You’re weak. You’ll regret ever coming after her.”

Kuroda, desperate, lunged forward, trying to swing the knife he had drawn earlier. But Mikey was already a step ahead. With a smooth, fluid motion, Mikey sidestepped the attack, grabbing Kuroda’s wrist with an iron grip. His other hand came up in a flash, delivering a brutal punch to Kuroda’s temple.

The rival gang leader crumpled to the ground, his knife clattering away uselessly. Mikey stood over him, his chest heaving with exertion but his face cold as ice.

“You’re finished,” Mikey said, his voice low, dangerous. “Get the fuck out of here, I don’t wanna see your face ever again.”

Kuroda didn’t respond. His eyes were unfocused, his body broken, and he couldn’t even lift his head. Mikey’s deadly kick had left him no choice but to surrender. With a final glance at Y/N, who stood frozen at the edge of the fight, Mikey turned his back on the defeated leader and faced his crew.

“Toman’s the strongest,” Mikey declared, his voice ringing with finality. “Toman wins.”

The rival gang members, seeing their leader defeated, began to retreat, realizing there was no point in continuing the fight. One by one, they scattered, their morale shattered by Mikey’s brutal display of power.

The Toman crew stood victorious, battered but unbroken. Chifuyu, Hakkai, Nahoya, and the others, though bloodied and exhausted, couldn’t help but share a look of relief. It was over. Toman had won.

Draken, wiping blood from his lip, walked over to Mikey. “Nice work, boss,” he said, a hint of respect in his voice. “You did it again.”

Mikey didn’t respond, his eyes still locked on Y/N, who was slowly limping, making her way over to him. Her gaze met his, and for a brief moment, all the noise, all the chaos of the fight faded away. It was just the two of them, standing in the aftermath.

“You alright?” Mikey asked, his voice softer now, a flicker of something more tender underneath the hardened exterior.

Y/N nodded, her body aching from the fight, but her eyes were clear. “I’m fine. Thanks to you.”

Mikey didn’t smile, but there was a shift in his posture, something less rigid about him. He glanced down at his hands, still tense from the battle, and then back at Y/N. Despite everything, despite the war and the bloodshed, there was something in him that had softened in her presence.

“You’re not going anywhere,” Mikey muttered, almost to himself, though the words were meant for her. “Not while I’m still breathing.”

Y/N gave him a small, tired smile. “I wasn’t planning on it.”

—

The battlefield was eerily silent now. The last of the rival gang had fled, and Toman stood victorious, but the cost was apparent in the bruises and bloodied faces of its members. Mikey surveyed the aftermath, his chest rising and falling with deep breaths, still holding onto the adrenaline of the fight. His crew was gathering, checking on each other, and making sure no one was left behind.

His gaze shifted to Y/N, leaning on a wall off to the side, looking smaller than usual in the aftermath of the chaos. She was wiping the blood from her own skin, eyes glazed with exhaustion, but there was something about her, something in the way she looked at him. Mikey knew it wasn’t just relief or gratitude. It was something deeper. And it made his chest tighten.

“Hey… Can you stand?” Mikey’s voice broke the silence, though it wasn’t the usual teasing tone he would use. There was a softness in his words, the kind of softness he didn’t often show anyone. Not even his closest friends.

Y/N’s gaze flickered up to meet his, and for a moment, neither of them spoke. The air between them felt heavier now, laden with all the unspoken words and emotions that had been building up for days.

“Yeah,” she said softly, though there was a distant quality to her voice. “It hurts though.”

Mikey nodded, his gaze lingering on her for a moment before he stepped closer, the space between them narrowing. “You should rest. You’ve been through a lot tonight.”

She chuckled quietly, though it held no humor. “I think we all have.” Her eyes dropped to the ground for a moment before returning to Mikey. “You… you were amazing out there. You’ve always been. I’ve never seen anyone fight like that.”

Mikey felt a strange knot tighten in his chest. He could tell she wasn’t just talking about the fight, she was talking about him. The way he had handled everything. The way he led. He hated that he wasn’t sure how to respond to her praise.

“I do what I have to do,” he replied, his tone deliberately indifferent. Mikey wasn’t sure if he was trying to convince her or himself. He hated how the compliment made him feel exposed. He was supposed to be strong. Untouchable. A leader who never let anything slip through his guard. But with her… it was different.

“Are you sure?” Y/N asked, her voice soft, her eyes searching his face. “You’ve been pushing yourself so hard lately. You’ve been so cold… I know something’s been bothering you. It’s not just the fight, Mikey.”

Mikey’s heart skipped at the mention of his coldness. He could feel the weight of her gaze on him, and for a moment, he wanted nothing more than to turn away, to block it all out. But he couldn’t. Not now. Not when she was this close.

“Cold?” Mikey repeated with a quiet laugh, but it wasn’t genuine. His lips twisted into a tight, strained smile. “I’m just doing what needs to be done. What everyone expects.”

Y/N stepped forward, her brows furrowing slightly. “I’m not talking about the fight. I’m talking about… you. You’ve been shutting everyone out. Including me.”

The truth stung, but he couldn’t deny it. Mikey had built walls around himself so high that even he had trouble seeing past them sometimes. But she… Y/N… was one of the few who managed to break through. And that terrified him.

“I didn’t ask for this,” Mikey muttered, his voice low, his eyes sliding away from hers. The coldness in his tone was still there, but it wavered, like a fragile mask about to crack. “I didn’t ask to… care about anyone. I didn’t ask for this to happen.”

Y/N’s heart clenched at his words. She could see the conflict in his eyes, the pain that he was trying to bury. She had seen it before, but now, it was raw, exposed in a way she hadn’t expected.

“I already told you… You don’t have to do this alone, Mikey,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “You don’t have to shut me out. You don’t have to push everyone away.”

Mikey met her gaze then, his expression unreadable for a moment. But then the walls finally began to crack, just slightly. His lips parted, but no words came out at first. He was fighting something inside him, something he wasn’t sure how to explain.

“I…-” Mikey started, his voice thick, but he cut himself off. It was as if admitting it out loud would make everything real, and he wasn’t sure if he could handle that. It was all too much.

But Y/N didn’t look away. She didn’t step back. She stood there, waiting, silently urging him to say what he needed to say.

“I’ve been pushing everyone away because I thought… I thought I’d lose everything if I let anyone close. Especially you.”

Y/N’s eyes softened. She stepped closer, so close now that Mikey could feel her warmth, the strength in her presence. He couldn’t run from it. Not anymore.

“We’ve both been through too much for me to just walk away now.”

For the first time in what felt like forever, Mikey let his guard down. His shoulders slumped, the fight leaving him in a way he hadn’t realized he needed. His breath caught as he reached for her, his hand trembling slightly as he cupped her cheek. The gesture was tentative, hesitant, but it was enough.

“Mikey…” Y/N whispered, her voice soft as her hand found its way to his, holding it there. She didn’t pull away. She didn’t want to.

Mikey closed his eyes for a moment, taking in the quiet of the moment, the tenderness in her touch. He had always been so sure of everything. His power, his strength, his control. But with Y/N, it felt like he had to unlearn everything he knew. He had to let go of the fear of losing himself. The fear that if he let her in, it would break him.

“I don’t want to lose you,” Mikey admitted, his voice barely audible, but it was the truth. It was always the truth.

Y/N’s heart fluttered in her chest. “You won’t. I’m with you, Mikey. Whatever happens.”

Without another word, Mikey leaned down, his lips finding hers in a kiss. It wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t clean, but it was real.

When they finally pulled away, Mikey looked at her, his eyes softer now, but still guarded in that way only he could manage. “You’re really not leaving me?” he asked.

Y/N smiled, her fingers brushing his jaw. “I’m right here. Always.”

#manjirou sano x reader #mikey headcanons #mikey texts tr #mikey tokyo revengers #mikey sano x reader #mikey sano #mikey tokrev #tokyo manji gang #tokyo revengers sano manjiro

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