#its fucked up when you see it on paper but then in the show its different....if that makes sense

[just-a-floofy-catt]

Hello!!!!!

Im so so sorry about such a late response, ive just been a bit busy and wanted to make sure i gave your writing the time and attention it deserves TwT

(And my response took a while to write and format lmao)

I think because i made art for the event, and am primarily an artist, for some reason i was subconsciously convinced that i would recieve art and not writing???

Which might be a little silly but i guess it just didn't cross my mind that it was equally as likely for me to recieve either.

So i cannot even EXPRESS how excited i was when i saw that you wrote something XD

5000 whole words????

5000??????????

For ME????????

AND THERES ACCOMPANYING ART TOO???????????

Im gonna be so real with you, i lowkey almost cried XD

Especially because it was based on one of my favourite fluffy headcanons.

I was so excited and happy

Thoughts i wrote whilst reading -

"They all had been happy after a little while when he had taken Sun to see them during one of their rehearsals, but that didn't mean that they were necessarily looking to spend more time with him. At least, that had been what he'd thought."

A SEQUEL???? OMG AAAAAAAAAAAAZTOXYOFOHF

" Sun was sweet, he was so good with the children, and he was adorable in the way that he saw the good in people. Moon had been so worried that after everything that had happened that Sun would hate him, but in the end it wasn't something that he'd had to worry about at all.  "

Aww baby 😭😭

Ough i always adore the portrayal of when Moon kind of sees himself atleast a little bit as the monster everyone says he is and thinks he doesnt deserve forgiveness or love, but is positively enamoured with Sun and believes hes way too good for him.

It tears my heart to shreds, but its always worth it to see Sunny show him that he IS loveable and IS worth his time and affection.

Im just gonna stop myself right here because i WILL go on for ages XD

" So instead he waited until Sun was busy and he was able to slip away to start making paper roses in the days leading up to what he had arranged.It was a little tricky hiding them from Sun, but it helped that sun couldn't climb the walls. He could hide them in the ceiling tiles, where Sun never checked. Moon definitely didn't have a secret stash of little trinkets and stolen things up there that he didn't want his counterpart to know about... His paper roses weren't very good in the beginning, and he definitely wished that he had Sun's patience as he crumpled attempt after attempt while following tutorials from the internet that he played over and over again in his head until he finally had some presentable ones. And then after some more tries, some good ones. "

MOON

YOU ARE SO FUCKING CUTE 😭😭😭😭

Just him putting in the effort to try and show Sun how much he cares about him and pushing past frustration and lack of patience to do it. I CANNTT MAN OMG 😭😭😭

Also hiding things in the ceiling like the little gremlin he is XD

" My Drop of Sun-shine, the roses aren't your only gift. You remember your outfit to meet the Glams? Put that on and meet me in the theater when you're ready, I have a surprise for you.

- Moon "

BRO IM GONNA PASS AWAY

IM SO EXCITED OMG

THIS IS GONNA BE SO CUTE

MOON YOURE SO SWEET 😭😭😭

" He wasn't dressed any differently than normal save for a bowtie that an assistant had brought him jokingly that had a magnet hot-glued to the back of it to stick to him. He wasn't sure that it wasn't too silly, but he was confident that Sun would get a kick out of it whether he genuinely liked it or it just made him laugh. "

BOWTIE

OH HIS LITTLE BOWTIE

Suns gonna absolutely adore the whimsy omg

" Sure enough Sun burst through the door with more enthusiasm than was strictly necessary, his grin wild and eyes bright. It turned the smile on Moon's face soft and fond to see him like that, there was just no way to avoid being absolutely enamored with his celestial mirror. "Hi," he greeted. "

DUDE THE FLUFF HAS BEEN ABSOLUTELY NAILED OMG IM GONNA SOB

I love when theyre so in love 😭

" "Moonie! Did you make those flowers yourself? And the card?" Sun pulled back enough to look at him, and if they were human Moon would wonder if the grin stretched so wide on his face would hurt his cheeks. Luckily they weren't human, but Moon reached up to pinch a cheek on him anyway. Sun shook him off with a little laugh, then pulled back from him more. "Oh stars, are you wearing a tie?" His laugh grew, though he covered his mouth with one hand like that would muffle the sound. Like Moon would ever even want it to. "Where- where did you even get that?" "

Ough.... they just appreciate eachother so much.... 🥺

" He even managed to make himself fake shoulder pads like some of them had, and Moon suspected that there were more magnets being utilized to keep them in place since he didn't actually see a tie around his neck for them. "Strike a pose." Sun did, pretending to be caught mid guitar riff. "Perfect. Like a real Glamrock."

While Sun didn't say anything to that Moon could easily feel the breeze that accompanied the quick few spins of his rays, one of his cutest happy little tells. His small pleased smile that he tried to hide also helped to read how the compliment affected him. "

THE SHOULDER PADS 😭😭

Oh hes so so cute....

The little ray spins too!!!!!! AGH!!!

I love it when his rays do happy spins....

" But Sun and Moon both had ones in there, on top of the main crew that Sun so idolized. Moon wouldn’t be surprised if Sun had managed to keep one card of each of the main four for himself. "

HE SO WOULD!!!! 🥺🥺

He collects any and all merch of them he can get his hands on.

Which isnt much, since really theyre not allowed to have much of anything at all for themselves. Honestly that would just make him cherish it all the more though.

" The soft neon glow of the atrium was a welcome reprieve to Moon’s eyes after the harsh light of the daycare halls and the elevator, and in his opinion Sun positively glowed in the blues and purples. He might have been biased in thinking that blue looked good on him, though. "

OUGH

Moon just admiring him...

I cant

😭😭

And yes it may be a tad biased... but thats okay XD

" Expressions ranging from happy smiles to teasing grins greeted them back. Chica came up to the edge of the stage, mirroring Sun's enthusiasm. No one else seemed surprised that it was those two who were the ones practically jumping in place. "Hiya, Lemondrop!" Using the strap of her guitar to keep it steady she moved the instrument behind her so that she could comfortably crouch down to get closer to Sun's height. "We made an exception tonight. There was a special request." She looked over Sun's shoulder at Moon and gave him a very obvious wink. "

CHICA XDDD

Omg i love her and Sun as a duo so much

Theyre so underrated together

They bounce off eachothers positivity and energy so well XD

I absolutely adore her being so enthusiastic to see her new bestie again....

" It was hard not to laugh harder at that and he squeezed Sun's hands again but harder this time. "You say that, but they're waiting for you and you're dressed for the part." He grunted as Sun threw himself against him and wrapped his arms around his shoulders with an ecstatic cry. He stumbled back a step in surprise but recovered quickly enough and pressed his cheek against Sun's before nuzzling into him, enjoying the tickle of the mostly-retracted rays that accommodated his closeness. Sun was nearly vibrating against him with his excitement and that was just even more proof that Moon had made the right call in planning this for him for their Valentine's night. He looked up after a minute and after catching the looks that they were getting from the group he played an audio file of a throat clearing and tried to backoff a little, though Sun wasn't letting him go just yet. "

SOBBING

SOBBING

ON THE FLOOR SOBBING

OMG

😭😭😭

MOON YOU JUST MADE HIS ENTIRE YEAR

Again, theyre just so toothrottingly sweet 😭😭💙💛

" With very obvious reluctance Sun did eventually let go when Moon gave him a few pats on the back, but not before he left a kiss on Moon's cheek. "Just you wait until later, mister," he whispered just between the two of them. Then he was completely detached from Moon and bouncing up towards the stage. "

WAIT

SUNNY WHAT DO YOU HAVE PLANNED???? 👀👀👀👀

I'm so curious what hes got for Moon now XD

I imagine that no matter what it is he'll adore it though.

" He wondered if the Glams realized just how ecstatic he really was. Obviously he knew what every single twitch meant in his partner, but he would hope so given how much time they spent together and just how carefully Moon studied Sun when he was sure that Sun wasn't paying any attention. Even when he was sometimes, though Sun tended to fluster easily in those moments. "

They know eachother so well....

Its because really theyve been through the worst of the worst together and spent so much time so incredibly close.

But now it massively benefits their relationship and its just so so lovely.

And the fact Moon practically studies him????

Again, hes just so enamoured XD

Id bet Sun does the same thing sometimes, though.

I just love it when they care so much, man 😭😭

" To say that Moon was enraptured by the performance wouldn’t do it justice. Sun was visibly a little nervous but happy up there on stage with the eyes of his heroes and his partner on him but the longer the first song went on the more he came out of his shell. After the first song Monty came up to clap him on his shoulder pad and shouted encouragement while Chica played the opening riff to their next song. Sun looked like he would have been absolutely breathless if they had needed to breathe, Moon was sure that his fans had to be working in overdrive to keep him cool and not just from the heat of the lights. "

EVERYTHING

JUST

EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS

The glams being so encouraging, Moon being so smitten and invested, Sunny having the time of his life

AAAAAAA

" By the time they had worked most of the way through the list that Moon had made, Sun was hamming it up on stage like he had an audience, like he’d been made for this. Perhaps it was a bit of their old theater programming and personality pieces that hadn’t been completely deleted or suppressed. Dressed as he was and floating between the multicolored stage lights as he was, he looked completely in his element and confident in a way that he sometimes lacked. It didn’t appear that he was brave enough to get too close to the Glamrocks but there were times when he approached them, stood back-to-back with Chica without coming into contact, half-faced Freddy who mirrored the pose while they sang together. Nothing at all could have made Moon happier than seeing Sun have so much fun up there with his idols. "

I can literally SEE this in my head and ITS DRIVING ME INSANE

IM HYPED

IM SO HAPPY THEYRE HAVING SUCH A GOOD TIME

Sun actually feeling confident when its often something he struggles with from always being put down and pushed to the side is ENDING me omg

Its so so real

" "Really, though. You were great up there, you should sing more in the daycare even if it’s just after hours.”

”I could say the same to you! You have a great voice, you should let more people hear you sing!” Sun put his hands on his hips and leaned forward into Moon’s personal bubble. "

DUET DUET DUET DUET!!!!!

They should totally do a sweet little romantic duet in the future....

Sun, youre so right though, Moon needs to get his ass on that stage, his voice is beautiful. AND HE DESERVES TO BE PRAISED FOR IT!!! >:3

" "Aw, I didn't know you sang for the kids! That's adorable, I bet it puts them out like a light, you seem like you'd have a good crooner voice."

Moon was never more tempted to pull his hat down to hide his face in his life.

"He does!" Sun piped up in the absence of Moon saying anything. "He tries to say that he's not really built for singing and that it's his music box-" Chica's beak moved to incredulously mouth 'music box' with a glint in her eyes after Sun without interrupting him- "but he can sing to it, so he's definitely just being modest." "

YESSS BURY HIM IN COMPLIMENTS!!!!! XD

Moon not being able to handle compliments or praise and getting flustered over it is something i always like to see. Idk it just feels right to me.

Poor guy has TERRIBLE self esteem even if he doesnt always show it

" The trip back was quiet but it was a very comfortable and content brand of quiet. It was something that neither of them felt the need to break until they were all the way back into their room, just basking in each other's company while the ambient music of the 'plex gave them a soundtrack to the walk back. Their hands stayed joined the entire time just as they had been on the way there, a tender mirroring to wrap their evening up. "

This is so so simple but fills me with so much joy

Just them enjoying eachothers prescence

" He laughed, checking to see if Sun was ready for him to turn around before he did so and pulled him into a hug. "It's not a competition, Sunny. I wanted to make you happy, and I love what you did for me. That's what matters, right?"

The look that Sun gave him was one of someone who was melting under the sweetness of the moment but still wasn't entirely mollified. "... Fine. But you better be ready. Next year I'm going to knock your socks off."

"Good luck, I don't wear any." Moon snickered at the blustering annoyance that he was hit with for that and managed to pin Sun's arms to his sides when he started to struggle in his hold. "C'mon, bedtime. You were getting close to falling asleep in front of your heroes again."

So sweet and oh so silly TwT 💛💙

Moon better start wearing some socks...

"Sun shuddered and breathed out a quick "jerk" before he relaxed back against Moon. "Will you sing for me for a little while? Just until I fall asleep?" "

PLEASEEEE OMG 😭😭

" The question was just too sweet, Moon never stood a chance in being able to refuse it. He chuckled and shuffled around so that he was half sitting up and could hold Sun against his chest. "Of course, just for you." When he leaned to press a kiss to the top of Sun's head he was intercepted, instead meeting Sun's lips. He melted instantly, holding the gentle kiss for as long as Sun let him before Sun slowly put a small amount of distance between them. It was a disgustingly domestic moment of intimacy, staring at Sun after that simple, treasured kiss. There was nothing on this world that Moon would have traded it for. "

DISGUSTINGLY DOMESTIC IS RIGHT

XD

But its absolutely perfect

" He didn't bother to pay any attention to how long they stayed like that until Sun settled against his chest and this time allowed Moon to press an affectionate kiss to the top of his faceplate without interruption. "Will you sing my favorite one?" he asked sleepily.

"As if you had to ask, morning star." "

OH THATS JUST THE PERFECT ENDING 😭😭🥺🥺💛💙💛💙

My favourite sillies in love....

Oh i enjoyed this so SO much

Its everything i couldve wanted and more TwT

Its domestic, fluffy and sweet, and all the little details in their behaviours are so lovely.

And the art is so so wonderful too!!

He looks so adorable in his lil glamrock fit :3

Im IMMENSELY greatful to have recieved this and will in fact be coming back to read it every so often

Thank you so much !!!!!

(And i do have an ao3 but i prefer to keep it separate to everything else. But feel free to post it there still ^^ if you really want to, you can just mention my tumblr, but i dont mind at all)

Center Stage

@just-a-floofy-catt I was your secret valentine! so sorry for the wait, I loved the idea of your glamrock adoring sun so I hope that I did the au justice! (do you have an ao3 handle? I can add it there too)

SunxMoon Word count: 5035

Moon expected that there would be a lot moregoing into this arrangement for Sun.

In the end, it was actually pretty simple: his discussion with the Glamrocks in private while he was out on a patrol one night was very fruitful, everyone seemed to like the idea.

That hadn't been something that Moon had expected, really. They all had been happy after a little while when he had taken Sun to see them during one of their rehearsals, but that didn't mean that they were necessarily looking to spend more time with him. At least, that had been what he'd thought.

He was perfectly aware of the reputation that both he and Sun had around the 'plex. He was scary, creepy, and painted into such a cartoonish monster who was cranky and libel to snap that he was just unapproachable in general, and Sun was said to be an anxious, loud, and overbearing mess. Neither of those were the case at all, but that didn't mean that people saw that.

Sun was sweet, he was so good with the children, and he was adorable in the way that he saw the good in people. Moon had been so worried that after everything that had happened that Sun would hate him, but in the end it wasn't something that he'd had to worry about at all. 

Sure, there was a lot for them to talk about, and there were conversations that they still sometimes had to have to address what had happened the night the little kid had been running around the pizzaplex with many of the animatronics, himself included, out for blood. It was hard, getting over these things, but Sun- with his almost infinite patience and understanding- was always there when Moon's progress in coming back from all that reached a snag that almost set him back a few steps.

He'd had to shake off that thinking after having his talk, though. That wasn't what he needed to concentrate on, what he wanted to. He was going to do something for his Sunny, something that was going to have him on cloud nine for ages to come, he hoped. He deserved it.

And it was the season to express one's love, after all.

There wasn't anything that either of them could do with chocolates, seeing as they didn't have the function to eat like Chica did, and Moon briefly considered flowers before he came to the realization that he didn't really have a way to get ahold of any; it wasn't like he could ask one of the daycare assistants or night guards to pay for and bring him something to get for Sun on top of what he had planned, to sweeten the deal.

So instead he waited until Sun was busy and he was able to slip away to start making paper roses in the days leading up to what he had arranged.It was a little tricky hiding them from Sun, but it helped that sun couldn't climb the walls. He could hide them in the ceiling tiles, where Sun never checked. Moon definitely didn't have a secret stash of little trinkets and stolen things up there that he didn't want his counterpart to know about... His paper roses weren't very good in the beginning, and he definitely wished that he had Sun's patience as he crumpled attempt after attempt while following tutorials from the internet that he played over and over again in his head until he finally had some presentable ones. And then after some more tries, some good ones.

So he was confident that Sun would like the ones that he left waiting in a giant bundle alongside a handmade card on the table in their room, along with a little paper of words that he didn't want to include on the card that he already knew Sun would save. He was sentimental that way.

My Drop of Sun-shine, the roses aren't your only gift. You remember your outfit to meet the Glams? Put that on and meet me in the theater when you're ready, I have a surprise for you. - Moon

Moon ducked out of their room and crawled along the ceiling- purely because he could and he liked to for the fun of it- and let himself out of their hidden door to skitter his way to the floor outside of it. He wasn't dressed any differently than normal save for a bowtie that an assistant had brought him jokingly that had a magnet hot-glued to the back of it to stick to him. He wasn't sure that it wasn't too silly, but he was confident that Sun would get a kick out of it whether he genuinely liked it or it just made him laugh.

He waited patiently slouched against the wall for his Other, aware that Sun would already have been up in their room by now with the cleaning done. That and even if he wasn't aware of how much time he had to wait just from Sun's routine, the heavily muffled sound when Sun found the yellow and blue paper roses definitely gave away that he'd found the little spread on the table. Moon snickered quietly to himself and hummed a low and slow tune while he gave Sun time to read the card, possibly fawn over it a little, and then read the small note to the side and hurry off to get himself changed.

When he heard excited footsteps approaching down the long L-shaped hall he stood up in an actual straight posture instead of his normal slouch outside of the radius of the door so that when it was thrown open he was in no danger of being hit.

Sure enough Sun burst through the door with more enthusiasm than was strictly necessary, his grin wild and eyes bright. It turned the smile on Moon's face soft and fond to see him like that, there was just no way to avoid being absolutely enamored with his celestial mirror. "Hi," he greeted.

Arms were around his neck and a chest crashed into his before he had a chance to dodge the oncoming hug, even if only just to pull back enough to soften the momentum. He didn't actually mind. Sun held him tight and Moon could feel the way that he was practically giddy with excitement. As always with Sun, it was nearly palpable. Moon hugged him back with arms wrapped low on his torso.

"Moonie! Did you make those flowers yourself? And the card?" Sun pulled back enough to look at him, and if they were human Moon would wonder if the grin stretched so wide on his face would hurt his cheeks. Luckily they weren't human, but Moon reached up to pinch a cheek on him anyway. Sun shook him off with a little laugh, then pulled back from him more. "Oh stars, are you wearing a tie?" His laugh grew, though he covered his mouth with one hand like that would muffle the sound. Like Moon would ever even want it to. "Where- where did you even get that?"

"Does it matter?" He reached up to straighten it after the assault on his person and tried to put up a playful air of dignity that a smirk he couldn't fight definitely ruined. "I happen to think I look handsome."

"You do! I didn't say that you didn't!" Sun's giggles calmed as he reached up to gently brush Moon's fingers aside so that he could actually get the bow straight and Moon tried hard to pretend that even the little touch affected him. He was never over those small moments of contact, let alone the large ones like that hug. "How do I look?"

Moon made a circular motion with one finger and Sun did a slow twirl for him as silently directed. He was dressed in pants other than their usual poofy attire with shoes to match the more 'rock star' look, with various other things he'd seen that the Glams had, like studded bands and piercings that were magnetic for him, since his rays were not actually pierced and neither of them wanted to do that. 

He even managed to make himself fake shoulder pads like some of them had, and Moon suspected that there were more magnets being utilized to keep them in place since he didn't actually see a tie around his neck for them. "Strike a pose." Sun did, pretending to be caught mid guitar riff. "Perfect. Like a real Glamrock."

While Sun didn't say anything to that Moon could easily feel the breeze that accompanied the quick few spins of his rays, one of his cutest happy little tells. His small pleased smile that he tried to hide also helped to read how the compliment affected him.

"Come on, are you ready for your surprise?" Moon held his hand out and squeezed gently at the fingers that eagerly laced with his.

"Of course!" Sun fell in step beside him as Moon started to lead the two of them out of the theater and towards the main atrium elevator outside of the daycare area. "But you really didn't have to do anything else for me besides the roses, Moonpie. Those and the card were more than enough."

Never one to resist a chance to tease him, he smiled cheekily. "Oh, so we can turn around and go cuddle up while we charge until my rounds?"

Sun's hold on his hand tightened. "No, no, no! I mean, there's no need to waste the surprise that you went to the trouble to set up!"

He chuckled, a deep rumble that he knew Sun liked when they were up close to each other. "Then I guess I really did have to, didn't I?" It was going to be worth it, he was so sure of it.

Idle chit-chat about the day with the kids filled the time that it took to get to the atrium from there. While he had been there for a lot of it, though usually with a different bunch of the kids than Sun, he still listened to him go on about the games that they played and the Valentine’s cards and candies that had been exchanged between their charges that day. Of course Sun also had little cards for them that he completed on the sly after the last child was checked in so he had a complete mental roster for names; just the cheap and brand-appropriate kind like the kid’s Parents bought from big stores by the box load. But Sun and Moon both had ones in there, on top of the main crew that Sun so idolized. Moon wouldn’t be surprised if Sun had managed to keep one card of each of the main four for himself.

The soft neon glow of the atrium was a welcome reprieve to Moon’s eyes after the harsh light of the daycare halls and the elevator, and in his opinion Sun positively glowed in the blues and purples. He might have been biased in thinking that blue looked good on him, though. Sun’s attention flitted around them at the colors and sounds of the space and all the different decor. It seemed that the novelty of it was yet to wear off, but that was fair given that he had been stuck inside the daycare without system permissions to leave for so long. Everything about the rest of the giant ‘plex was bound to stay new and exciting for a while and Moon couldn’t blame him one bit. He would have gone stir crazy being trapped in their space, it was a wonder to him that Sun never had. He always actually seemed nervous and a few hairs short of overwhelmed as he was getting used to it, really.

At the end of the giant open hall they started their approach to the stage and Moon could feel the moment that Sun realized that the Glamrocks were standing up there, instruments in hand for those who played, by the way that he started to pull on their joined hands as his pace increased and there was a swinging little skip to his step. Moon stifled his laughter and allowed himself to be hurried along. It was adorable to see that his counterpart was so quietly excited, or at least he was quiet about it up until they were within earshot of the stars of the 'plex.

"Hi!" He greeted loudly as he tugged Moon to jog the last few steps to get close to the base of the stage, who grumbled good-naturedly at the treatment. "What are you all doing? I thought that there weren't any practices happening today!"

Expressions ranging from happy smiles to teasing grins greeted them back. Chica came up to the edge of the stage, mirroring Sun's enthusiasm. No one else seemed surprised that it was those two who were the ones practically jumping in place. "Hiya, Lemondrop!" Using the strap of her guitar to keep it steady she moved the instrument behind her so that she could comfortably crouch down to get closer to Sun's height. "We made an exception tonight. There was a special request." She looked over Sun's shoulder at Moon and gave him a very obvious wink.

He rolled his eyes in return with a very theatrical open-mouthed scowl. "Subtle," he muttered, though Chica would hear him this close up— their audio processors were built well enough that despite the loud music that blasted them daily, they could hear far better than a human could. She just giggled at him without an ounce of remorse.

In that time that Moon had been watching her Sun had turned around and was looking at him with a slightly confused look, his head tilted a little to the side. He could almost see an added shine to them, like Sun was some sort of puppy trying his hardest to root out what the obvious thing meant. Moon's fake annoyance melted and he pulled Sun closer to him by their joined hands. "Surprise."

Sun glanced back over his shoulder at the Glamrocks, of which only Freddy was pretending to do something other than watch them interact. Chica had her chin in both of her hands while she listened to them and watched them closely, Roxy was next to Monty while the both of them didn't look particularly entertained, yet their attention didn't waver despite their act. None of them gave him any indication about what Moon was talking about though, so he was left turning back to Moon just as his other hand was taken so that Moon was gently holding onto the both of them.

"You asked them to perform on their night off?" he guessed.

That made Moon chuckle. "No. Well, yes." He knew that his expression was softer than he was generally comfortable with other people seeing on him as he looked at the sunny animatronic. He had a reputation to uphold, after all, but he was happy to let that go in moments like this for his Sun. "They're not the only ones that are going to put on a show."

That only made Sun look even more puzzled and Moon laughed. "Happy Valentine's day. Get up there."

"Wha-?" He looked back over at the Glamrocks and then incredulously at Moon. "No, you didn't."

It was hard not to laugh harder at that and he squeezed Sun's hands again but harder this time. "You say that, but they're waiting for you and you're dressed for the part." He grunted as Sun threw himself against him and wrapped his arms around his shoulders with an ecstatic cry. He stumbled back a step in surprise but recovered quickly enough and pressed his cheek against Sun's before nuzzling into him, enjoying the tickle of the mostly-retracted rays that accommodated his closeness. Sun was nearly vibrating against him with his excitement and that was just even more proof that Moon had made the right call in planning this for him for their Valentine's night. He looked up after a minute and after catching the looks that they were getting from the group he played an audio file of a throat clearing and tried to backoff a little, though Sun wasn't letting him go just yet.

"I think he likes the idea." He tried to play off.

Monty snorted in amusement and Roxy barked a laugh, meanwhile Chica was still watching them without having moved, though her expression was far more fond now. With very obvious reluctance Sun did eventually let go when Moon gave him a few pats on the back, but not before he left a kiss on Moon's cheek. "Just you wait until later, mister," he whispered just between the two of them. Then he was completely detached from Moon and bouncing up towards the stage.

Chica offered him a hand straight away and as she stood up she brought Sun up onto the stage with her without much effort on her part. Sun dusted himself off nervously once he was up with them and did his best to hide the excitement that Moon could see pouring off of him in waves. He wondered if the Glams realized just how ecstatic he really was. Obviously he knew what every single twitch meant in his partner, but he would hope so given how much time they spent together and just how carefully Moon studied Sun when he was sure that Sun wasn't paying any attention. Even when he was sometimes, though Sun tended to fluster easily in those moments.

He backed off to the actual viewing area of the stage while Sun teetered forwards and back from his heels to the balls of his feet and back again and talked with his idols. When he had first floated this request for help to make Sun's night extra special they had all already discussed what songs Sun would know to be able to perform with them. He didn't play any instruments, so he wouldn't be any help there, but Moon was happy to know that he'd get to hear him sing. They did so often enough in the daycare, Moon during naptime and at night when it was just the two of them, and Sun sometimes while they got the daycare back in order and cleaned down with different approved sanitizing agents, besides his silly preprogrammed clean up songs he taught the kids to build good habits both there and at home.

Moon wasn’t quite as fond of those as he was the others.

The lights around the stage dimmed even further at some invisible signal from one of the band mates- perhaps Freddy or one of the others could ping the system to activate certain preset routines- and the lights above and below it started as the music for one of the songs he had listed for them started playing. They must have decided on an order for a few of them while they were talking, which Moon was happy for. It made things less awkward and flow smoother with a partial plan already in place, he was sure. It also allowed them to get the music needed into the systems of the instrument players and a drum track that played in the background- why was there no drummer in a band?- all set up. Freddy passed Sun a mic as the two of them stood front and center on stage, though Freddy did stand a couple steps back to really let Sun have the literal spotlight.

To say that Moon was enraptured by the performance wouldn’t do it justice. Sun was visibly a little nervous but happy up there on stage with the eyes of his heroes and his partner on him but the longer the first song went on the more he came out of his shell. After the first song Monty came up to clap him on his shoulder pad and shouted encouragement while Chica played the opening riff to their next song. Sun looked like he would have been absolutely breathless if they had needed to breathe, Moon was sure that his fans had to be working in overdrive to keep him cool and not just from the heat of the lights.

By the time they had worked most of the way through the list that Moon had made, Sun was hamming it up on stage like he had an audience, like he’d been made for this. Perhaps it was a bit of their old theater programming and personality pieces that hadn’t been completely deleted or suppressed. Dressed as he was and floating between the multicolored stage lights as he was, he looked completely in his element and confident in a way that he sometimes lacked. It didn’t appear that he was brave enough to get too close to the Glamrocks but there were times when he approached them, stood back-to-back with Chica without coming into contact, half-faced Freddy who mirrored the pose while they sang together. Nothing at all could have made Moon happier than seeing Sun have so much fun up there with his idols.

Like all good things, though, it eventually came to an end. Sun jumped nimbly down from the stage after passing his mic back off to Freddy and ran up to Moon, who was already walking to meet him.

”Well? What did you think?” Sun asked excitedly, though Moon could tell that he’d tired himself out by the way that he wasn’t really bouncing or otherwise moving in place. His battery might be getting a little low after that performance, especially since he could hear the way that his fans were whirling inside his casing.

”You looked like a natural up there,” he assured. “Like you were always meant to be part of the band.” He couldn’t help but lay it on a little thick while it was just the two of them, the way that it flustered Sun was just too endearing. He smirked at him and chuckled when Sun pushed him for teasing him. “Really, though. You were great up there, you should sing more in the daycare even if it’s just after hours.”

”I could say the same to you! You have a great voice, you should let more people hear you sing!” Sun put his hands on his hips and leaned forward into Moon’s personal bubble.

”Who needs to sing? Should I get my guitar back out?” Without Moon having noticed Chica had come up behind Sun, who straightened with a squeak and whirled around.

”Oh, uh… Moon has a very nice voice when he sings to the kids at nap time. I was just saying that he should try singing more often too!” Sun wrapped an arm around one of Moon’s and brought him closer as Moon spluttered out his own rising embarrassment at now being under Chica’s attention.

For all that people tended to consider Chica a bit of an air head, from what Moon heard when people forgot that he was creeping around on his patrols, she adeptly picked up that he wasn't really comfortable with the idea. At least not for the moment. "Aw, I didn't know you sang for the kids! That's adorable, I bet it puts them out like a light, you seem like you'd have a good crooner voice."

Moon was never more tempted to pull his hat down to hide his face in his life.

"He does!" Sun piped up in the absence of Moon saying anything. "He tries to say that he's not really built for singing and that it's his music box-" Chica's beak moved to incredulously mouth 'music box' with a glint in her eyes after Sun without interrupting him- "but he can sing to it, so he's definitely just being modest."

Luckily the chicken seemed to be in the mood to take mercy on Moon. "Next time, okay Gumdrop? Just one song, pleeeease?"

Moon couldn't look at her when his fans audibly clicked into a higher gear to contend with the heat of his embarrassment. If he could blush there was little doubt in his mind that his entire face would be changing color. "I'll think about it."

His non-committal didn't at all phase her as she pumped an arm excitedly. It was easy to tell who was going to be the easiest of the four of them for Sun to befriend when she acted like this. "That's not a no!" And then she laughed in the face of his grumbling like Sun usually did when it was all just playful. A few more minutes were spent winding down from the performance while she and Sun talked about what a great surprise it had been and how well he'd done up on stage.

After a while Moon noticed Sun leaning more into him and letting Chica carry the conversation a little more. From his peripheral he watched him while allowing Chica to finish going down her current topic of discussion to check on him. Sun got like this when he was really starting to fade. He did have a softer happy look than what he'd been sporting this entire time, his energy level was definitely coming down.

"Alright," he interrupted before a new topic could take hold and keep them any longer. "I think I need to take him back to our room and get him charged up after a full day and then all that."

Sun made a whining sound and stood back up straight but otherwise didn't fight him on that assertion at all. "Can we come to another rehearsal night soon?"

The attention of the other bandmates was called for as they settled on a good night for the next one so that he and Sun could plan to attend, and then there were a chorus of goodbyes and encouraging words to Sun with echoes of goodnights to Moon. He was sure that he would see one or two of them when he went out later on his rounds, but he didn't bother to say as much and wished the Glams a good evening themselves before he started to herd Sun back towards the daycare.

The trip back was quiet but it was a very comfortable and content brand of quiet. It was something that neither of them felt the need to break until they were all the way back into their room, just basking in each other's company while the ambient music of the 'plex gave them a soundtrack to the walk back. Their hands stayed joined the entire time just as they had been on the way there, a tender mirroring to wrap their evening up.

"I feel bad. I didn't get anything like this for you at all," Sun said when both doors leading to their room were closed before he started to shuck off the bits of his Glamrock outfit.

"You made me a card and got your hands on some soft lights for our room." It was silly to keep his back turned to give Sun some privacy to get back into his normal attire but Moon did it all the same, smacking the magnetic bowtie to the door of the fuse box taking up space on their wall. When Sun complained about it, he just laughed and assured him that it wasn't dangerous and they might as well take advantage of the space.

"Yeah," Sun argued once they were back on topic again though he still sounded disgruntled, "but you got me time to be on stage with the Glamrocks. The Glamrocks, Moon."

He laughed, checking to see if Sun was ready for him to turn around before he did so and pulled him into a hug. "It's not a competition, Sunny. I wanted to make you happy, and I love what you did for me. That's what matters, right?"

The look that Sun gave him was one of someone who was melting under the sweetness of the moment but still wasn't entirely mollified. "... Fine. But you better be ready. Next year I'm going to knock your socks off."

"Good luck, I don't wear any." Moon snickered at the blustering annoyance that he was hit with for that and managed to pin Sun's arms to his sides when he started to struggle in his hold. "C'mon, bedtime. You were getting close to falling asleep in front of your heroes again."

"I was not!" Regardless of his huff of annoyance, and embarrassment, he still let Moon walk him over to their makeshift bed and allowed himself to be fussed over as Moon made sure that he laid himself down comfortably to rest. "Can I make one more request for the night?"

Moon was in the midst of getting himself situated beside Sun among the pillows and the plushies and a couple pilfered blankets that weren't 'quite up to his standards anymore' to be allowed down for the kids during naptime, and had definitely not been an excuse to bring them up to the tower. "Of course you can. Whether or not you get it..." He smirked at Sun's unamused look and used the distraction to get the jump on Sun by suddenly plugging their charging cord into its port on Sun's back.

Sun shuddered and breathed out a quick "jerk" before he relaxed back against Moon. "Will you sing for me for a little while? Just until I fall asleep?"

The question was just too sweet, Moon never stood a chance in being able to refuse it. He chuckled and shuffled around so that he was half sitting up and could hold Sun against his chest. "Of course, just for you." When he leaned to press a kiss to the top of Sun's head he was intercepted, instead meeting Sun's lips. He melted instantly, holding the gentle kiss for as long as Sun let him before Sun slowly put a small amount of distance between them. It was a disgustingly domestic moment of intimacy, staring at Sun after that simple, treasured kiss. There was nothing on this world that Moon would have traded it for.

He didn't bother to pay any attention to how long they stayed like that until Sun settled against his chest and this time allowed Moon to press an affectionate kiss to the top of his faceplate without interruption. "Will you sing my favorite one?" he asked sleepily.

"As if you had to ask, morning star."

[skunkes]

OMG you like moral orel?? who is your favorite character :]c *Blinking and fluttering my eyelashes beautifully*

i watched the whole thing in a few days, ended yesterday. My faves are nurse bendy and joe (together and as a unit), stephanie (individually and then as a unit with the reverend but i dont like him individually), + danielle, of course

[shotmrmiller]

it turned to smut in seconds, i cannot control my own hands, ok. 18+ (implication of breeding kink or something and simon's a jealous boy)

ex-husband simon who signed the divorce papers without a fight. it'd stung, you're not gonna lie, but it needed to be done and the fact that he didn't make a big fuss about it made things easier for you physically. (emotionally you were in shambles because did he not even want to try and fight for you?)

he comes over only on the weekends when he's on leave.

he's a good father to his boys. he takes them to their softball games when he can, buys them the ice cream and takes them toy shopping.

and then there's a sharp knock at your door on a wednesday afternoon.

"simon?"

he walks in like he owns the place, which technically he does- even pays the mortgage because there's no way you would be able to afford living here with your own measly income.

"what's this the boys are tellin' me 'bout a man bein' in here?" his voice is calm, steady. but you know simon better than you know yourself, and he's furious.

"i- i'm not sure-" he swipes his hand in the air and your mouth clicks shut.

"don't lie t'me, poppet, or i'll be findin' him myself an' you really don't want tha'."

what man? there hasn't been any since the divorce! you're digging through your memories, scrambling to find what the hell he's talking about when-

"oh! it's the plumber!" you take steadying breath. "i called a plumber on sunday. i needed the kitchen sink fixed."

his dark eyes are piercing, so sharp they could cut. simon's always been a walking lie detector, and it's unnerving to be on the opposite end of that analyzing stare.

he nods imperceptibly, then flicks his gaze to behind you, over your head. "show me."

you scoff indignantly. "show you what? the bloody sink?"

simon wordlessly heads to the kitchen and his knees pop as he kneels-

he's actually checking the fucking sink.

with a grunt, he leans his head into the cabinet and twist awkwardly which is no doubt causing a familiar pain to flare up in his lower back. you can't help but wince in sympathy.

lo and behold, there's a shiny, white elbow in the middle of the rest of the dirty, scratched pipe.

he hums, and rises to his feet, closing the cabinet with his leg.

simon approaches you slowly, fingertips touching the kitchen island as he rounds it. "palms flat on the counter, sweetheart."

oh. oh you know exactly what that means, and your pussy throbs almost in reflex. months without his touch and your body still responds the same.

your protest already at the tip of your tongue, almost involuntarily because principles, but he sees right through you, as he's always done.

"jus' a reward for all o' your hard work. takin' care o' the boys is a stressful job all on its own." his worn hand cups the underside of your jaw tenderly. "aren't i always good t'ya?"

your exhales are weak, just like your resolve. "okay."

simon's eyes glint with satisfaction as he lifts his hand, index pointing upwards and twirls it in a slow, deliberate motion.

your palms are flat on the counter when he curls his fingers into the waistband of your shorts and knickers, tugging them downward.

they're flat on the counter when he lowers himself to his knees and taps the inside of your foot, indicating you to widen your stance.

they're curled into fists when his breath puffs against your slick cunt and his warm tongue slides through your folds, drawing lazy circles around your bud. a tingle of arousal shoots up your spine, his mouth sparking a fire right under your navel.

they're reaching for simon, nails sinking into the delicate skin of his wrist as your back bows when you come on his tongue, vision spotted with black, blurry dots and white hot ecstasy coursing through your veins.

your hands are now crossed at the base of your spine, your cheek pressing into the cool kitchen counter as he bends you over it.

"15 minutes before the boys are home from school. tha's plenty o'time, yeah?"

a rhetorical, if you've ever heard one.

your knuckles stain white as you clench your fists at the heavy, hot weight of his manhood stretching your walls to take him in, a sweet burn that you've always loved. he's gentle but sure, bottoming out in one smooth stroke that pushes the air out of your lungs. the sibilant hiss simon lets out is never fails to elicit a whimper out of you.

"fuck," he groans. "i could stay inside this pretty pussy forever."

and the dirty talk. how much you've missed it.

"would you like tha', pet? be inside of ya til you don't know where i end and you begin?"

a garbled mhm slips past your lips. your head already empty at just the sensation of being so unbearably full that it feels like you're tearing at the seams.

"another time, then, since the kids'll be home soon."

he begins to move, shallow but firm thrusts that drag his cock along your nerves deliciously- a sure fire way of getting you to climax around him in minutes.

your walls begin to squeeze down as the knot in your stomach tightens, and he lets go of your wrists, looping an arm around your waist and straightens you- his broad chest to your much smaller back.

his clever fingers wind downwards, and rub precise, little circles on your slippery clit, and it's all too much, you're hurtling toward the precipice at neck break speed- "god, simon, please-"

his pace never falters, not his hips nor his fingers as your moans begin to rise in pitch. "i'll get ya there, love."

he does, he gets you to your highest peak- blindingly intense- one that chokes the very breath out of you and slackens your knees. "i've got ya."

there's no strength left in you to brace for the spine-jarring thrusts he gives after, the only thing keeping you from sprawling forward is the arm that's looped around you as he pulls you to him.

"on anything?" he rumbles.

your ears ring at that because he can't possibly- your head shakes unbidden.

"good."

the last four thrusts are heavy, backed by his weight, and he smothers a loud groan into the junction of your shoulder as he finishes inside of you- thick, viscous cum filling you until it begins to drip and fall to the floor with an audible plop.

he presses tender little kisses to your sweaty shoulder and nips the side of your neck. "just in time."

the clock on the stove says 5 minutes before the bus gets there.

he helps you redress, chuckling under his breath when you won't look him in the eye. "i'll get the kids, go get cleaned up."

the knot in your chest loosens when you hear the boys' laughter at seeing their father on the driveway. it loosens when simon picks both of them up, one in each arm, and glances up at you as you look down at them from the window.

heat licks up your cheeks when he gives you a smarmy little grin.

idiot.

[kamitv]

Tutor!Nanami who steadily became more of a private fuck for you instead of a tutor and utters things like, “If only you followed directions as well as you take my cock.” while he's fucking you over the very desk you're supposed to be studying on.

Tutor!Nanami who's been sick of how awful you are at following his overly simple directions whenever he tries to go over course materials with you so, he figured he'd have to fuck these lessons into that pretty head of yours.

Tutor!Nanami who wasn't even the one to suggest this kinda thing. He just went along with the way your eyes focused more on the tight blue-collar shirt and khaki-colored slacks he wore on a day to day basis instead of the notes he was reading to you. You made it so painfully obvious that you only agreed to these tutoring sessions so that you'd have an excuse to ogle him.

Tutor!Nanami who, after fucking you that first time, decided to use the sex as more of a reward for every time you studied properly with him. If you could last an entire session without your eyes lingering elsewhere, he'd reward you by laying you out against the desk and eating you out like a man starved.

Tutor!Nanami who groans into your sopping cunt about how, "This is what happens when you focus on your work instead of," pausing, simply to reel back and shoot at messy wad of spit right in between your slippery folds, "Thinkin' about filth all day."

Tutor!Nanami who kisses just about every inch of skin his lips can reach as he fingers you 'til your legs are shaking around his hand and your fingers are curling around his wrist, pushing at him to give you a break.

Your back is arching up off the desk and moan after moan of his name is slipping off of your tongue whilst you writhe beneath the skillful curl and twist of his thick fingers inside you.

Tutor!Nanami who praises you like it second nature to do so, all against your ear with his warm breath tickling your sensitive skin and his slightly fogged glasses brushing up against you as he tips his head every which way just to get different looks at you.

Tutor!Nanami who promises to fuck you how you really wanna be fucked as long as you ace your next test. And when you come to him a few days later with that gorgeous A printed atop your paper, he's left to completely and truly live up to his own promises to you.

Tutor!Nanami who's mouth is filthier than you could've ever imagined once he's got you at his place. Fast forward past all the sloppy make-outs that led you to where you are now and here you are standing before him with soaked panties and heavy lungs as he unbuckles that thick belt of his.

Clank after clank and you're nibbling on your lower lip in pure anticipation, awaiting the moment he tugs that belt through its annoying loops and tosses it to the side.

But of course, Tutor!Nanami still has you anxious at every given moment because suddenly he's tipping his head to the side and nodding his chin toward your legs, “Bend over n’ show her to me."

You've never moved faster in your life--tugging off what little clothing you have on, discarding it to the floor and doing exactly as he's instructed you to by bending over his bed and leaving your cunt on full display for the man.

Tutor!Nanami smirks and runs his smooth textured fingers over the curve of your ass first before settling his greedy palms on your hips and leaning over just to whisper to you. "I wanna see if this pussy’s worth taking my cock exactly the way she wants it,” He tells you with a mean emphasis of his straining bulge against your exposed cunt.

You're unintentionally drooling all over him, and no, not by your mouth at all.

It only takes a bit of messy grinds back against him before Tutor!Nanami gets the idea that you're growing impatient. He was trying to drag this whole thing out with you, truly. But how can he possibly do that when you're turning your head back and begging him to fuck you??

Yeah, this is Tutor!Nanami who gives you exactly what you want and feeds your eager cunt with his fat cock after only a short while of listening to you beg for him.

Tutor!Nanami who fucks you better than anyone else ever has, making your eyes roll to the back of your skull, and your fingers curl into the expensive sheets below.

Tutor!Nanami who's naturally the best at aftercare, and returns to his usual composed and stoic state not too long after fucking you to tears. Treats you the way he did when you first started studying with him and even asks you if you're gonna ace all your tests after this...

Of course, he only asked that because he want you to do well academically. Not because he wants to do this again.

[burnforyou]

DATING LUIGI MANGIONE

♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ before you started dating, he had the biggest crush on you. he'd stare at you from across the lecture hall for three hours straight, never looking away. he once paid a chemistry professor to partner you two up for the lab.

♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ before he met you, approaching a girl never made him nervous. but you, you were different. you just made him so flustered and he hated it so much that he had to have you.

♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ he's a simple man: he just loves looking at you. when he wakes up in the middle of the night he admires your features under the moonlight.

♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ he's so touchy. he wants to be touching you 24/7. he constantly has his arm wrapped around your waist or shoulders. he holds onto your hand and guides you through crowded spaces. he plants his hand on the small of your back and rubs shapes on your skin beneath your shirt. he holds onto your thigh as he drives. when he can't hold you, he's whispering in your ear how badly he needs you.

♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ when he makes a joke in a group, he looks at you first to see you laugh. his eyes on you make your skin glow.

♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ in a group setting, he's pulling you into him and kissing you in front of everyone, so they all know you're together. even before you were officially together, he made sure everyone knew you were his.

♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ he taught you how to surf because he wants to share his hobbies with you. sometimes you'd "go surfing" with him, but you really went to watch him wet and shirtless for hours. he pretended like he didn't know that, and still fuck you every time. he takes you on his trips internationally to explore the world with you.

♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ you attempted to study for your chem final together, but it ended in him eating you out on the desk, your papers scattered and computers shut. you'd sit on his lap while doing flashcards and everytime he'd get one right you'd reward him with a kiss.

♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ you're both jealous and possessive. often, you see him talking to his girl friends and can tell they're into him, but he's clueless. so you show them he's yours by leaving dark marks on his neck or kissing him in front of them. when he sees you talking to another guy, he'll interrupt your conversation and steal you away from him.

♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ he loves to listen to you talk for hours, even if it's about something he truly isn't interested in. you're english/history smart and he's math/science smart, so you talk a lot about the latest book you're reading, your fun history stories, or psychology. you can convince him any theory is real. he doesn't necessarily believe in every one, but because it's you, he believes it.

♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ he constantly showers you with gifts, more than you could've ever imagined. he pays for everything and you can't remember the last time you paid for anything.

♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ when he cooks for you, he calls you over to taste test the sauce. he holds his hand under your chin and the spoon to your lips. he watches your face closely to study how you react to the taste.

♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ he begs you to wash his hair for him. when you do, he gets down on his knees in the shower and holds onto your hips. its not sexual, he just purely loves how it feels when you take care of him. when you massage his curls with conditioner, he feels like he could die right there and his life would be complete.

♡ ‧₊˚ ⋅ at night, you both read under the warm light from your lamps and you rest your head on his shoulder.

[pnutbutter-n-j-elyy]

When They Call You Clingy So You Distance Yourself| Maknaeline Pt1

Warnings: Cursing, Mentioning of Blood

Pt2 Pt3 Hyungline  (xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx)

JISUNG|

There was nothing you loved more than Jisung's singing. Well maybe Jisung himself.

But from the moment you heard him sing you knew that it was game over for you. You didn't know what you had done to have God bless you with the off chance of running into the chubby cheeked boy on the street during a last-minute girls' trip - the result of a horrible breakup.

And you sure as hell didn't know what you did to have him become smitten with you at first glance, softly asking for your number - even though it was obvious you weren't going to stay long.

But after a week of non-stop texting and meme exchanging it was obvious the feeling was mutual so long distance was something you were willing to try.

And it was the best decision you had ever made. Two and a half years strong.

The last year you had spent in South Korea had been filled with wonderful memories too, and you quickly found yourself getting used to living life with Hanji.

"Sungie!" You burst into the studio and Jisung jumped in fear. "I brought you something!"

He turned around with wide eyes and his mouth opened slightly. "What is it?"

You handed him a couple of his favorite snacks and an energy drink. "I figured you were tired since the guys told me you didn't come back to the dorms..." You wrapped your arms around him and peeked over his shoulder at to what he was scribbling in his favorite, beat up notebook. "What are you writ-"

Jisung quickly closed his notebook. "N-nothing."

"Lemme see!" You giggle reaching for it again. He quickly pulled away. "Jiji you always show me your songs!" You said, not noticing his growing irritation.

"Y/N stop I don't want you to see this one." He said grabbing his notebook.

"Why not?" You whined, trying one last time to grab it. "Thats are thing you show me your songs even before you show the guys!"

Your hands folded around the broken metal spine and part of the papers themselves and Jisung pulled away with an extreme amount of force.

The small part of metal that had no home in the small holes of the spiral bound book hooked its way into your hand. And with Han's forceful pull, ripped open your skin as well in a thing but deep wound.

You hissed in pain slightly from a small paper cut on your middle finger, which was ironic considering the much deeper gash in the palm of your dominant hand.

"Dammit Y/N!" He snapped looking at his ripped pages.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to..." You said quietly.

"Well you did!" He mumbled turning his back on you looking for tape on Chan's cluttered desk.

"I'm sorry."

"Its whatever." Han mumbled, his back still turned to you.

You hold your wrist, you hand bloodied. "Jiji-"

"Y/N I want to be alone right now." His voice was firm, and you could tell he was trying to hide his growing anger. You wanted to respect his wishes but your injury seemed to throb even more by the second, even more blood spilling out.

You nodded but opened your mouth to speak again trying to ask him for help with your gushing hand. "I know but-"

"FUCK Y/N!" Jisung screamed slamming his hands on the table. "Just leave me alone! Stop being clingy for two seconds and give a moment to breathe! You just ruined something extremely important just because you don't know when to stop messing around."

You bit your cheek, trying to stop the tears that were pricking your eyes from falling.

You knew that Jisung was only calling you clingy to to get you to go away. To hurt you enough so you'd want to leave. He had done it before.

And even though it was a bad habit, it was proving really hard for him to break.

You quickly made your way out after watching your boyfriend for a few more seconds as he started tearing small pieces of tape from the dispenser.

And even still you couldn't help but have your heart flutter at his concentration as he bent down to carefully place pieces of tape on the ripped pages.

Dammit. Why do I always have to go and ruin things... You think to yourself as you head out to your car. Grabbing an extreme amount of paper towels to soak up the red liquid streaming from your hand.

You go to wipe your tears, but only smearing blood on your face causing even more tears of frustration, sadness and disappointment to fall from your eyes.

Fuck. I'm gonna need stitches.

You drove to the hospital, continously blinking to keep your vision clear through your emotional state. You were so focused on the road and replaying the whole situation that had just occurred in your head you didn't realize your phone was ringing.

Once you computed the ringning you frantically reached for your phone, so you could talk to Jisung - apologize, just talk things through - not remembering the state your hand was in and feeling it rip open even more, causing your phone to slip and a strangled cry of pain escape your lips.

Incoming call from - Jiji *heart emoji. angel emoji. squirrel emoji.*

Your phone had fallen in between the crack of your seat and you tried grabbing it while keeping your eyes on the road.

Incoming call from - Jiji *heart emoji. angel emoji. squirrel emoji.*

"Holy shit can't I-"

You heard the blaring of a horn and by instinct you turned opposite of the direction you heard it coming from, only to have the noise covered by metal crunching on metal.

Missed Call from - Jiji *heart emoji. angel emoji. squirrel emoji.*

Beeeep.

You have one new voicemail.

"Jagiya - I saw blood on my paper. Were you bleeding? Look, I know you probably don't feel like talking to me and that's valid. I say a lot of mean things to get space- and I know how wrong that is of me. Just...call me back okay? Let me know you're okay...there was...a lot...of blood. A lot...I'm worried. You can be mad but please just let me know, okay? I feel bad. I had a reason for hiding the lyrics; but it just seems stupid now. Because you got hurt because of me...I know I'm ranting but I'm worried sick. So please just...text or something. At least tell me you have the cut bandaged or something. Because baby if I would have realized sooner you were bleeding that much...God I feel like an idiot. Just call me, okay? Or you know what text if you don't feel like talking...just let me know your safe...the guys are worried too...you left a trail...God I feel so bad. Maybe I'm exaggerating but it looked like so much...I love you. Okay? I love you."

Click.

(xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx)

FELIX|

You heard your front door unlock and looked behind you to see Felix walking in.

He slipped his shoes off and immediately headed towards the game room you had set up from an old study when you and him had frist started dating.

Your desk was still in the corner, but you had set up all of Felix's extra gaming things throughout the rest of the room. Stringing up LED lights and making it as aesthetically pleasing as possible since had taken a liking to filming some of his lives in that room once your relationship had gone public.

You got up from the couch and followed Felix into the room. He didn't seem like his usual cheery self. And his determined steps into the game room differed from his usually excited steps and leaned more towards annoyance.

"Lix is everything okay?" You asked, coming to stand by him. You placing the energy drink you were sipping on by him as you reach out to give him an embrace.

"I'm fine Y/N." He mumbled, trying to shake his PC awake. Then trying to turn on the LED's and lamp next to him. When they didn't turn on he tried plugging his phone in to the extra charger that he always kept plugged in at your home, groaning when that too didn't work.

"You seem upset love, you know I'm here for you."

"I said I'm fine." He snapped as he got up and started looking at the different wires connecting the lights and other various things in the room. "This damned thing."

You got up and looked at the wires yourself. "Let me see-"

"I got it, Y/N." Felix said sternly as he moved his makeshift desk back carefully from the wall enough to squeeze back there and look at the outlets.

At the same time you notice the extension cord didn't look like it was fully plugged in. You let out a small noise of acknowledgement and crawled under table to plug it in.

It was too bad Felix didn't notice your other hand resting on the ground for balance, as he stepped on it while trying to get a better look.

You yelped in pure shock, your head coming up to bang against the underside of the table- and Felix jumping back in surprise - and reaching out to balance himself but instead knocking over your drink onto his extremely expensive keyboard.

You had never heard so many profanities string from his mouth at once.

"I'll go get towels-"

"Are you fucking slow Y/N?!" His voice was harsh. Nothing like the gentle tone he always used with you. "Maybe you are. Would explain why you'd think a fucking corrosive drink could be easily cleaned from a keyboard. GOD." He groaned slamming his fist down.

"Felix I didn't-"

"I didn't know! I didn't know!" Felix mocked. "Well no shit you didn't know. Who in their right mind puts an open drink next to a set up that probably costs more than your monthly wages."

You felt your chin start to tremble and you tried to take a breath.

"You know maybe if you weren't clinging to me 24/7 this wouldn't have happened. Now thanks to you I have to find replacements." He grumbled pushing past you.

You turned to follow him like a lost puppy.

"Dammit did you not get the hint?!" He shouted turning back towards you. "You really are slow holy shit." He spat out.

You watched him make his way towards the door grabbing his keys and just walking out in his house slippers that's how angry you had made him.

"I can fix it..." You whimpered, trying to wipe your tears as you collected an arrangement of towels both dry and cloth. "I-I can f-fix itttt..." You whine as you hold the towels with shaky hands trying to mop up the mess.

"I-I'll fix-fix it-" You keep repeating to yourself until your vision is so blurred by tears the they flow over into the crevices of his precious keyboard. You try to soak up the mousepad he had customized, and the fabric of his chair.

"I'll...fix it..."

Soon enough those three words didn't sound like words you had said them so much.

Your hands were red and raw from scrubbing down the table so much. And you could barely even breath through your desperate cries.

His words kept ringing in your head.

He sounded so angry. You had never seen him like that. And it scared you. It scared you so much.

So much it had you considering if his accessories were the only thing he'd ever consider replacing.

(xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx)

SEUNGMIN|

You sat in the dressing room, waiting for Seungmin to come back stage.

Tonight was the kickoff concert for their mini tour. Just ten destinations. A mix of normal venues, mini music festivals and things of such.

Ever since you and Seungmin had become a thing a little over three years ago, you had made it your mission to attend all of his concerts. While at first you flew under the radar of attendance- you soon became the "Where's Waldo" of sort when your relationship became public- stays doing everything they could to spot you in the crowd.

Tonight was no different other than the fact that everything went abswolutely horrible.

Malfunction after malfunction. Although most of the Stays were too preoccupied with the the visuals and the improv to really care about the mistakes on the crew end of thing.

And you had come backstage to tell Seungmin the same thing that all the Stays in the crowd had been thinking.

You did great.

Most of the time on Seungmin's shorter trips you stayed out of his way. Calling him and just infroming him of the different places you were visting in the cities, and asking if he would like any specific souvenirs. Thats the way you balanced out most. Thats the way things had worked and you figured they would continue to work...

Until Seungmin came in,.

"What are you doing here?" He asked throwing his jacket on the closest chair, and immediately going to strip off his shirt.

"I just wanted to come in and see how you were doing." You said quietly- gently.

"Appreciate it but you're not exactly helping my situation. I come into the dressing room for a breather - some space but your in here." He sighs grabbing a towel and trying to soak up his sweat.

You frown and look at him, his puppy eyes clouded with frustration.

"I just wanted to tell you that you did good...none of that was your fault. I just wanted to make sure you were aware of that..."

"Y/N. You're getting overwhelming. Seeing you home, at the studio in the audience- I can't catch a fucking break. Its like you're acting as my fucking shadow- clinging on to me wherever I go. Normal couples don't do that." He said as he stepped behind a portable stall to change completley.

You opened your mouth but closed it quickly, not wanting to start something you knew Seungmin was more than likely to finish.

"Like everytime I see you it's such a burden really..." Seungmin came out drying his sweaty hair with a smaller towel. "Like don't you ever get sick of seeing me all the time?" He gives out a smile and a laugh, but his eyes don't crinkle the same way they usually do.

You bite your cheek. "No...why would I get sick of seeing you? Why...would I ever see you as a burden?"

Your boyfriend looks at you in the reflection of the mirror, and turns to see the pain in your eyes.

"I came back here to comfort you Min...but instead you want to find ways to tear me down? So effortlessly at that?" Your voice is growing in pitch by the second but getting quieter and quiter. "I've spent three years supporting you in everything that you do. I've spent money to surprise you on trips Seungmin! When you know I don't have the money to do that!" Seungmin flinches when you use his full name. It had been so long since he heard anything other than a nickname fall from your lips when talking to him. "I always put you before me...am I really that much of a burden to you Seungmin?"

The quiet boy just looked at you.

"Dammit say something!" You exclaimed.

"I...don't know what you want me to say Y/N...I appreciate you coming to my concerts. I do...but don't you have another life outside of me?"

You clenched your jaw. "You're geniunely asking me that? When we've spent over three years together?"

Seungmin sighed. "You know I don't mean it like that..."

"Then how do you mean it?"

He fidgeted and opened his mouth to say something but bit his tongue and thought for a second more.

"You know what...maybe you're right Seungmin." You grab your purse and coat.

"Where are you going?" He asked, a bit of panic creeping into his voice.

"Away." You mumbled. "You're right Seungmin. I don't have a life outside of you. And maybe that's why this doesn't feel so right anymore."

You reach for the door and you feel both his hands wrap around your arm.

"B-Baby...y...you don't mean that...you don't." He pleaded softly. You watched as his brown eyes searched your face for any bluff. "We're right...we feel right-we we fit right..." His voice took a little pitiful whine to it and you felt as if you just kicked a puppy.

Right now he looked like a kicked puppy.

You had to turn your face away so he couldn't see your walls built in anger break.

Because no matter how petty you could be you wouldn't do that to Seungmin.

Would you?

"Seungmin...you think you can just go and say those things...the things that effortlessly hurt me?" You took a deep breath. "It's like you put no thought into how you crack my heart."

Not break. He couldn't break it...

"Jagiya...please...please stay?"

Couldn't my ass. He damn well could. And two could play that game.

"I'm leaving." You said pulling your arm from him roughly, knowing that you ripping yourself from the embrace you relied on so much would hurt him the most.

"You don't mean it...we're both frustrated...Jagiya..."

You decided not to look back as you walked out the door.

Knowing just how quickly your resolve you fold if you saw just how easily Seungmin's heartbreak was painted on to him.

You knew you'd fold the second you saw how his heartbreak mirrored your own.

(xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx)

JEONGIN|

Please leave a message after the tone.

You groan as you guide yourself to the counter, holding onto it trying to find unwavering land in the battle of dizziness you were fighting.

Please leave a message after the tone.

"Pick up..." You groan as you try to hit the call button for Jeongin, your vision was clouded and you mistakenly pressed your second most recent call.

"Y/N? What's up?"

"Ji...Jisung...grab Jeongin for me?"

"Y/N...he's a little...irked right now. We were poking fun at him when you called but I think we went a bit too far... I don't think its the best idea..."

"Jisung, please?"

You heard Jisung shuffle around, and you heard the crunching of leaves as he made his way towards the sound of loud laughter.

"Innie! Your girlfriend is one the phone!"

You think you're hearing things when you hear Jeongin's distinct groan- but you don't have time to think about it before you hear all of his elder group members "ooh" and "ahh" at the youngest member.

"What is it?" The annoyance in his voice is evident.

"Innie...I don't feel good." You say steadying yourself on the counter. Your hands are slick with sweat, just like the rest of your body.

"Y/N I don't know what you want me to do about that." He says, covering the mic to yell something at the members- who are making kissing noises and mimicking romantic music in the background. "I'm hours away and I'm not gonna be back until Monday."

You whimper as you lower yourself onto the ground, your head swimming with dizziness - all while feeling as if someone tigthened a rubber band around your noggin.

"Stop being so dramatic and take medicine if its that bad." He finally says. "It's embarassing to have you blow up my phone while I'm on a guys trip - and even more embarassing for you to blow up my friends phones as well."

Something about the way he says my makes your heart sting slightly. As if you hadn't cultivated friendships with the guys as well.

"Maybe if you had answere-"

"Just stop Y/N! I'm not a baby! And having you cling to me...its making the guys think that. I mean don't you see how annoying that looks? Childish? Being clingy is downright childish."

You can't really focus on Jeongin's angry rant because you vision is getting blurry, and your head is throbbing so horribly, and your body is getting so clammy you can't focus on anything other than how shitty you feel.

"I think I'm gonna pass out-"

You hear Jeongin's exasperated huff. "You always have to make it about you don't you?! I'm trying to tell you how I want you sto stop blowing up my phone so damn much while I'm with the guys and you're here being dramtic. We're adults Y/N. We don't have to rely on each other for everything! So just lay down if your feeling that bad. I don;t cal you for everything."

You groan into the phone. "Jeongin-"

"Holy shit Y/N, can't you take a hint? For fuck's sake...I'll talk to you Monday." He said before hanging up, his tone exuding the aura of a typical "too-cool-for-anyone" teen boy or more specifically a hormonal attitude filled PMS monster.

You take a second to breathe, the nausea that was hitting you in waves only coming in faster and stronger.

You scrolled through your contacts and just clicked on one. Your fingers were trembling and you could barely press the speaker button before dropping your phone to the ground in a moment of weakness.

I'm gonna pass out...just...a minute longer...wait until someone answers...

You decided to not delay the inevitable and just lay on the cool ground that you'd end up on anyway. Might as well save yourself from an uneccassary bump.

"Hello?"

"I think I'm gonna faint..." You groan.

"The fuck? Y/N? What? I'm on my way I'm at the studio I'll be there in a minute..."

You give a small hmm and lean more into the floor if that was possible.

It brought you back to when you were a child, and would decide to randomly nap on the ground.

Maybe I am childish...

Maybe he was right...

You're mine clears as your mind goes static then black as if a switch turned on.

"Y/N? Y/N!"

When you open your eyes your blinded by lights and instantly annoyed by the beeping of mulitple machines.

"Y/N-ie!" You see the smiling faces of Chaeryeong and Yeji. Then Ryujin, Lia and Yuna's faces pop around you too.

"The doctor said your blood sugar was extremley low." Yeji said grabbing your hands. "He said that they're gonna run a few more tests on you too see what the cause of it was."

"We were worried sick when you called Chaer so we all came!" Lia exclaims.

You smiled gratefully, your head still throbbing slightly.

"Thank you." You said quietly.

"I called Changbin." Chaeryeong commented. "I thought it was best that one of the Kids relay the message to your boyfriend."

You pop up in bed, the sudden movement dizzying you. "What? What did you say?"

"I just told him we found you past out in your kitchen. At that point we didn't know what caused it...so all I said is we were bringing you to the hospital."

"Your boyfriend has been calling your phone for the last hour and a half." Yuna says nodding towards your phone.

26 missed calls.

"Hah...so he calls me clingy and childish then proceeds to call my phone 26 times?" You groan as you throw yourself back onto the hospital bed.

The ITZY girls look at you with sympathetic looks, Yeji squeezing your hands gently as well.

"Fuck it." You mumble, a fit of anger bubbling inside you as you swiped away all the call notifications, an insurge of pettiness filling you. "Clingy and childish my ass. I'll show him what that actually looks like."

(xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx)

@abovenyx @wolfs-archive @oddracha @iyeeeverydee @parisanmorovati @seungmincenteric @panbish-1209 @fxiry-vtt @sseawavee @shuporanporang

[chiscaralight]

what's that sound?

includes: nsfw! continuation of my college athelete!choso linked here. vouyerism, oral sex(f receiving), somewhat bottom choso, p in v, unprotected sex, choso is a little pervy, he’s never eaten pussy before either, choso cums from hearing i love u then he gets a little emotional. he’s just a loser!!!!!

word count: roughly 3k

a/n: we r so back!!!!

choso has been at his best since he met you.

ever since you two got together, he's been much different. not just to you—to everyone! there’s a pep in his step when he walks, he’s a little more confident when he talks, and he’s even playing better on the field now! (totally not because he knows you’re in the bleachers and he’s trying to look extra cool just for you.)

and it pains him in more ways than one when he has to stay away from you for so long. with the new league about to hit its peak, coaches are adding in extra hours, school work is getting more and more tasking by the day, and only talking to you on the phone for a couple of minutes and texting the whole day is nowhere near enough for him. even though he’s the one that needs most of the space!

you’re so sweet about it too, assuring him you’d be fine and he has to prioritize his sports career. you still show up to the occasional practice to offer a quick kiss before you go home, and you leave him snacks in his book bag when you see it lying around. you’re honestly such a blessing, why is the world so against the two of you right now?

but a single ray of light shines down on Choso’s dim day when the head coach sends a text that they can have the day off since they played so well in the last game. he’s almost flying out of his class seat right then and there—his mind is going straight towards you.

he feels like shit as he makes his way out of the flower shop; bouquet in hand. it’s not much, but he hopes you find it sweet enough that you’ll forgive him for how long it’s been since he last saw you. he stood there, individually picking out the best blue hyacinths and white orchids from the bunch, all fresh and neatly wrapped as a sort of poetic apology. you might not even know what it means, but who cares? it’s the thought that counts.

and he feels even weirder driving to your doorstep after all the times he’s run there instead. he’s still nervous even after all the times you’ve held him, kissed him, fucked him. you’re just so perfect, who wouldn’t be near pissing themselves right now with you behind the door?

he’s carefully sliding the single key you gave him in, pushing inwards after he hears the soft click. fingers tightening around the paper holding the flowers together, he steps in. empty.

what the hell? you should be home right now. it’s Friday—your classes end early and your favorite podcast should be up by now. but you’re not here.

choso’s brows furrow. He peered into the kitchen and checked the downstairs bathroom, the backyard, and even under the stairwell. nothing.

agitation crawls up his neck as hears a muffled noise from upstairs. it's faint; almost impossible to hear, but he’s sure it’s you.

the staircase is barely creaking as he makes his way up insanely slow. his grip on the flowers are tight, almost inhumane as he’s prepared to use them as a weapon. his steps are quick once he reaches the top, deathly silent but still quick as he closes in on the cracked open door of your room. the noises are getting slightly louder, more frantic and they sound less like pain and more like moans. moans..?

choso’s heart cracks once and he stops dead in his tracks. there’s no way. he knows he’s been gone for a long time, but it hasn't been that long, right? fuck—you said you loved him, you said it so many times, you wouldn’t cheat on him so quick. you wouldn’t cheat on him at all. so why are you–

“f-fuck cho.. miss you s-so much..”

oh.

oh.

oh.

the blood flow in Choso’s legs finally picks up once again, and he’s noiselessly pushing himself against the wall right next to your doorpost. he’s craning his head so far to the side, but he can finally see it. he can finally see you. and holy shit, he might have just cum in his pants.

your legs are spread, bed facing the door as your fingers disappear into your cunt. your shirt–his shirt is pulled up right under your chin, leaving your cute tits out in the open as you harshly tug on one of your own nipples.

the view is stupidly mesmerizing, and choso catches himself just before he starts drooling at the sight of you. he’s not even paying attention to how hard he is, he’s completely entranced by every little action. the way your body is twitching, how your fingers are moving, how your eyes are pressed tightly shut as you cry out his name.

choso is genuinely about to lose it. he just wants to crawl over there and eat you whole, in more ways than one. but he’s practically glued to the spot; he’s even holding his breath just to not ruin the moment!

but he’s getting knocked out of his incomprehensible trance when you let out a particularly irritated groan.

it’s so annoying. you haven’t been able to cum once since your boyfriend has been scarce. it’s not like you tried anyway, you’d much rather have him pump your orgasms out of you like he seemed to love doing. but it’s been so long, and you’ve been so sexually frustrated that you had to turn back to playing with yourself like this.

it’s not that you couldn’t call him, you’re almost a hundred percent sure he’d run all the way to you if he was on the other side of the country. but you didn’t want to bother him too much. his schedule has been overflowing with activities and he’s probably so busy, you didn’t want to seem inconsiderate! so you’d settled on seeing him when you knew he was free.

but this is getting way too bad, and you’re sure you’d start losing sight in your left ear if you don’t get it out right now.

so against your better judgment, you’re using your free hand to reach over to your phone, banking on the fact that his voice will be enough to get you off. he doesn’t have to know, right? And plus, you can always tell him later when you feel less guilty.

it doesn’t take long for you to find his name surrounded by hearts in your contact list and you’re calling without a second thought. it takes a couple of seconds before the line actually starts to ring.

the loud noise from Choso’s back pocket startles him so much that he drops the flowers he’s forgotten he’s holding. he’s silently cursing himself amidst the noise of his phone singing out, and now he’s lost on what to do.

you speak first though, voice breathy and low as you call out his name. he bites down on his lower lip, slowly stepping into the entrance of your room. you bite back a laugh despite the obscenity of the whole thing. he looks like a kid who got caught with their chubby hand down the cookie jar, he’s just way too cute!

“were you watching me, cho?”

almost immediately he’s a stuttering mess of excuses and apologies. he swears he didn’t mean to, he just wanted to surprise you—he just got a little carried away!

and you can’t hide your smile as you shut him up, gesturing for him to come closer. you’re sitting up now, more covered than before as your shirt rolls down.

you pat the space beside you, signaling for him to come over. it feels like ages, almost eons when your bed finally dips from his weight, but he’s still so far away. it’s definitely an improvement from the first time he came over, but you need him much closer than he is.

you can see his body tense up as you shift closer. he’s still avoiding your eyes, finding the floor much more interesting than the face of yours he always says he can’t get enough of. your fingers are giving his bicep a reassuring squeeze as he apologizes once again. you’re not upset. nowhere near even—this might have been the best possible outcome. but if he’s all mopey like this, neither of you will get anywhere.

“y’know, i don’t mind you watching me.”

you can feel him physically cringe at your words, but you’re not done just yet.

“so, you can keep watching me, or…”

his eyes finally meet yours after what feels like an eternity, waiting for you to go on. there you go.

“or?”

“…you can help me.”

quite literally, you can see the gears turning in that silly little brain of his. but he’s choosing to forgo an actual response, pressing his lips against yours instead. you can’t help the moan you let flow out of you, and he’s grunting in response, arms closing around you hard so he can push you onto your back once more.

choso’s kisses are heavy and full of need, tongue dancing around yours as his fingers graze the exposed skin of your thighs. you feel so good under his rough palms, he can’t help but try to soften his touch. he doesn’t want to hurt you! after all, you’re his most prized possession. he has to take care of you in every way he can.

and you’re half expecting his fingers to replace yours as they were a couple of minutes ago, but he’s pulling back with a sharp huff. you’re lazily opening your eyes, gaze connecting with his again as you start to notice the tips of his ears are a burning red.

“can i... i want to taste you. please.

even with his eyes still trained on yours, his entire face is flushed. even after all these months, he’s still as nervous as ever.

you offer him a welcoming smile and nod. he’s clearing his throat as he moves away, making quick work of getting his shirt off before settling between your legs.

and he’s a little overwhelmed coming face to face with your pussy like this. he knows you’re watching him, and he’s watching your essence drip out and down your cunt as he thinks. he’s racking his brain, trying to think of the best way to approach this. but your hand guiding the back of his head closer towards your aching heat is all the encouragement he needs.

once his tongue comes in contact with your slick, his eyes fall shut. you gasp at the experimental licks he’s giving you, warmth of his tongue sending jolts all the way down into your toes as he groans at how sweet you taste.

he’s catching on with lightning speed, lightly dipping his tongue into your entrance between every couple of strokes from his tongue. his nose is bumping your clit just right, and you’re tugging at his hair quite harshly as he continues to suck at your hole.

it’s his tongue going deep into your cunt that has you arching off the bed, nails digging into his scalp as your thighs close around his ears. his strong hands are only wrapped around your thighs, locking you tight in place as he ravages his new favorite meal.

and the tip of his tongue is starting to invade your sensitive spots as he fucks it in and out of you, wiggling it around when he’s sure it’s as deep as he can go so you’re arching high off the bed. you’re desperately trying to push him away—you’re not sure you can handle all this! but choso is too far gone; he’ll apologize later. right now, he’s going to get a fill of this flavor he’s been missing out on for weeks.

but even with your pleas and cries, choso doesn’t stop. you’d think he’d gone deaf from how hard your thighs were pressing on his ears. truth is he can hear you loud and clear. he just wants to make sure he gets every single drop of your release down his throat.

he’s only had a sneaky taste of it after he helps you finish on his fingers. when you’re finally off the high and sleeping wrapped in his arms like a baby, he’ll bring his digit to his lips, childishly licking at them to get whatever remnants are on his fingers onto his tongue. but it won’t be long before pangs of guilt and shame cover him, and his hand will settle right by your side.

but now? there’s no way he’s about to give this up. he can feel it. the way you’re tightening around his tongue, how your moans are starting to crack just like they always do.

and he’s right because your thick release is hitting his throat in no time, flooding his mouth as he slurps up every last drop.

when he finally lets you free from his vice grip, you’re both panting and sweaty. his chin is entertained covered in your release. you can barely keep your eyes open, but you can hear how choso is fighting to get rid of his pants next.

it’s not long before Choso’s lips collide with yours in a much softer kiss. he’s been slightly… satiated. but his boner is getting more painful by the second, and he misses the way you envelop him so dearly.

he doesn’t break the kiss as he hooks his elbows under your knees. he’s pushing up, not stopping u til your calves are rested perfectly against his shoulders. he didn’t know you could bend like that. you didn’t know you couldn’t bend like that. but both of your trains of thought are broken when he finally pushes into you. a short string of curses falls from his lips when you clamp down around him just like you always do.

and regardless of how impatient he’s been all this time, choso never fails to fuck you properly. his thrusts are calculated and deep, each one making your entire body twitch under him.

you never fail to give him the praise he deserves either, telling him he’s doing so well they turn his harsh grunts into weak whines.

but he loses all composure when you call him ‘my good boy’. you can swear you hear him sob, but the noise gets drowned out fast by the sound of skin slapping as he picks up the speed of his hips

your eyes are crossing, fingers dipping into his shoulders when his pelvis starts to brush your overstimulated clit. he’s hitting everything so right, deep whispers of your name breezing through your head as he pounds into you.

you’re practically an inch away from getting fucked into a concussion but it’s the least of your worries right now. you’ve missed this—you’ve missed him. it’s the moments where he’s so raw with you, no masks of shame or fear covering how he truly feels that you love the most. this is the cost that you love.

but you’re still a human being, and one with limits. your orgasm is bubbling hard in the pits of your belly, so you’re tightening your own hold on him, mumbling about how you’re getting close. and you barely last another five seconds before a stupidly broken ‘i love you’ falls from your swollen lips.

those three words are sending choso over the edge so fast he can’t help the strangled noise that comes from his throat. those words are pumping energy throughout every vein of his body, and even through his orgasm, he doesn’t stop his movements. his face is digging into your neck as he rides out the rest of his high, tears dripping onto the skin of your collarbone.

you’re so confused when you recover, that you don’t know what to say! all you can do is shush him, dragging your fingers calmly through his messy strands as you try to calm him down. even through his fit, he’s still apologizing and it breaks your heart over and over. all you can do is press a sweet kiss against the side of his face and tell him how cute he looks with his face all wet like this. then he remembers.

he’s returning to your sides within seconds, setting the bouquet carefully in your arms before explaining what it’s supposed to be. they’ve already been out for quite some time though, so you’ll need to take them downstairs to place in a jar before they start to wilt too badly. but you’re in no state to walk like this.

so choso is scooping you up bridal style despite your protests and carrying you down the steps. he only puts you down to place you in front of the kitchen sink as he moves around to find a suitable container. it’s adorable you think, how proactive he is about this. but he’s done pretty quickly, and all you have to do is lean over the basin and push the jar onto the sill.

which you do with a gasp because he’s pressing onto your back, wrapping his arms around your waist. but that’s not what catches you off guard, it’s how hard he is. and with the way his hand is trailing down between your thighs, you know you don’t have long before you’ll be getting filled up again.

if you think you’ve missed him, you have no idea how much he’s missed you. and even with that, he’s so considerate! he knows how tired your legs must be, so he’s keeping you up with his vice-like grip as he fucks into you from behind right in front of the kitchen window. your brain's been turned to mush a long time ago, you don’t even care if your neighbors see you like this. all that’s on your mind is how bruised you’re going to be when choso finally lets up, and how much cum he can pump into you until he has to go for his next practice.

[sinning-23]

Bikinis On Top (OPLA Bikini Headcannons)

Seeing their bbygrl in a bikini opla headcannons

THis gets a lil RISQUE soooo 18+

Hey youguys i know its been a while lol I've been s swamped with work and Enjoy this in honor of hot girl summer approaching lmao I promise I'm getting back into eh groove of writing!

alos pls excuse spelling errors yall know me lmao

Luffy

-It’s hot and his shirts are open 9 times out of 10 so

-He was a bit stunned to see you with one of Nami's bikini tops adorning your chest with a nice pair of jean shorts.

-Boobs boobs boobs boobs boobs

-He's really trying to act normal but you can always tell when those big brown eyes start shifting from your face to your chest. And he always has that goofy grin on his face

-Strongly believe he's the type to impulsively bite them. lmao like literally grab two handfuls and CHOMP.

-He always was more of a boobs guy.

Zoro

-"Where's the rest of your shirt."

-He’s got his eyes skillfully flickering from your chest to your eyes then to you collar bone and again.

-“You don’t like me showing them off?” You question, slipping past him with a smile

-the funny thing is, you’re not talking about your boobs. You’re talking about the bites and hickeys he skillfully placed along them

-crazy how near the end of the day, the only thing the crew can seem to find as a trace of you is the discarded bikini top

Sanji

-He helped you tie it this morning when the sun had first been shining to brightly into your room, heating both of you up.

-personally, Sanji likes it when you wear the full piece, the straps of your bottoms just barely peaking out from the low-rise jeans you've got on.

-He also is one to pull your strings when you're also so the top just falls down to reveal the girls

-Is the type to lift you up out of the pool and set you up to sit on the steps like the goddess you are and just admire.

Usopp

-matching swimsuit set matching swimsuit set matching swimsuit set

-He always likes seeing you in a nice brown or sage green two-piece.

-won't say anything but wow when he sees you and smiles.

-Keep it polite but just know his hugs from behind will always end with him pulling at your bottom straps and letting them snap against your skin.

"USOPP!" You yelp, narrowing your brows at him while you massage the spot.

"Ok ok, i'm sorry mommas" He chuckles, pressing a kiss to the affected area, his large hands massaging the flesh of your thighs.

Nami

-Strictly a bikini gf and wifebeater+swim trunks gf duo lmao

-This can go either way actually. If she feels like a bikini kinda day it's gonna be a bright orange or a pure white with a sunhat and a nice flowy cover-up

-A she can't and won't make it easy for you to keep your hands off her,

-If YOU are in the bikini and she's in the swim trunks she REFUSES to keep her hands off you. She knows her girl looks good asf.

-Expect to have your ass smacked.

Shanks

-Is definitely keeping you on his lap while everyone else is splashing around. It was a pretty chill day and everyone decided hey why not go for a swim

"Can I please get in the water Shanks?" You sigh, pulling the strings of his swim trunks as he smiles and gives a quick "Nuh-uh"

-"Your ass looks too good. Just stay here a little longer hm?" he asks, squeezing your thighs, pressing kisses to your shoulder.

-He doesn't waste time taking you somewhere secluded to pull those bottoms to the side, somehow loving the way your ass looks in those bottoms every time he thrusts

Mihawk

-He personally likes it when you wear one of that cute pinup like 50's monokinis? And some wedges with a bandana. UGH he's gonna be right there with you avoiding the sun under the umbrella (that pale ass skin lmao)

-Will 100% lather you in sunscreen and just paper your shoulder with kisses.

-He's not taking you to eh pool he's taking you to the beach and you're just sitting together, enjoying one another company

-"I'm fucking you within an inch of your life after this." H admits in monotone, skin already starting to darken in a tan

-"Yes splendid." You reply still resting, enjoying the faint heat of the sun.

Buggy

-HAHAAAAAA this man will tear it off and then feel bad and get you another one...just to tear that off too

-is a sucker for the bikinis with anything on the boobs lmao he thinks they look like targets

-I like to think that ocean water is the only thing like that is an issue lmao so it is safe to say he's in the pool every summer, roughhousing with you and the rest of his crew

-I mean just a bunch of fucking kids lmao, macro polo, chicken fight, pretending to be a shark, you name it

-accidentally caused a nip slip tho and yelled for everyone to look away while shielding his girl.

[tojirights]

Ong your Alastor showing you off to Vox one was so😍😍🤤🤤

Can you make do an enemies to lovers? Like how maybe Alastor’s been possessive of you and he hates how much he likes you, and one day your dressed in something scandalous (maybe Angel helps pick it out) and Alastor can’t take it anymore. Much degradation on the side pleeeeeease🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

a/n: degradation is my specialty 🩷 requests open!

tags: 18+ smut nsfw, slight coercion, degradation, choking

words: 1k~

ever since alastor met you, he struggled to understand you. rather, he struggled to understand what you did to him. you wore down the walls he so carefully built and did it effortlessly and it drove him mad. your smile, your voice, the genuine care you showed for him and everyone in the hotel.

you took up his every thought and he hated it. he hated that he couldn't stay away either. he just couldn't trust anyone else to protect you. he wants you more than he'd ever admit, and while everyone told him that you felt something for him, he chose to ignore it. but when he sees what you've decided to wear tonight, he nearly has a heart attack.

"what on earth are you wearing?" alastor speaks, cocking a brow when he sees you walking out of the hotel with angel. you smile shyly, out of your element in the flashy and revealing outfit angel styled you in. "oh this? yeah, i know." you laugh, covering your chest with your arms. it does nothing but push your tits further together, threatening to bust out of the barely there top.

"its a little much, don't you think?" alastor's eye twitches as he tries to suppress his anger. how dare angel dress you like this! "you don't like it." you frown, looking down at your outfit. he sighs, rubbing his temple. "it's not that..." he speaks before shooting a look at angel that would have burnt him to a crisp if possible. "i uhh.. i'll let you two talk." angel quickly scurries away, blowing you a kiss as he does so.

alastor's blood was boiling at this point. "do you understand the attention wearing this would earn you? is that what you want?" he's tugging you into the shadows with him before you're brought to his broadcast tower. "alastor what is going on?" your frown deepens when he bumps into his desk.

his final straw is watching you bend down to pick up the papers that fell, your entire ass on display as your skirt falls forward. he's behind you in a flash, one hand pressing your face into the wood of his desk while the other pins your arm behind you. all you can do is gasp for air and wiggle under his grasp but its no use. "now deary, you must be doing this on purpose." he growls, trying his best not to be too rough but he's having a hard time holding back. "a-al don't-" "keep your mouth shut." his harsh words make you shudder. "if you so desire to dress like a whore, you'll be treated like a whore."

alastor releases your arm, causing your eyes to widen when you figure out what he's doing instead of holding you. his clawed finger tears straight through your panties in a single stroke, exposing your pussy to him. "w-wait alastor, it's not what you think." you gasp out, but he's already sliding a finger through your folds. "what's that? are you saying that your cunt isn't basically begging to be used right now , hm? that you don't want to be fucked over my desk right now? because that's what that outfit was telling me. and now your pussy is telling me the same thing, darling."

he's slowly pumping a finger in and out of your now soaking cunt, the sound of your wetness filling the otherwise quiet room. "you'd let me, wouldn't you?" the second finger has you moaning into his desk, and against your better judgement, you nod your head as much as you can while being held down. "yes, i-i wanted you to see me." your eyes sting with tears as embarrassment fills you. god yes, you wanted alastor to see you in such a skimpy outfit. but you didn't expect him to lose it on you like this.

and still, every harsh word has you dripping and approaching orgasm faster than you could have expected. "now there's a good girl." alastor coos, a sense of pride filling him, rather, filling his aching cock. he hopes to never forget the sight in front of him, the way your skirt still hangs around your hips, your panties torn in two just enough that he can see your pretty pink pussy peaking between the slit he ripped.

"all you had to do is be honest, you didn't have to have angel dress you like a little sex doll just to get my attention. you shouldn't dare dress like that for anyone but me, do you hear that, sweetheart? i don't want to have to leash you as well, but i have no issue doing so if you can't behave." he ends his sentence by finally pushing his cock passed your puffy lips.

your eyes roll into the back of your head, fire scorching through your body as alastor plows his cock in and out of you. "a-al fuck, too big." you whine, bracing your hands on the desk with every thrust. alastor snickers behind you, only pulling out to flip your body around. being able to look up at him only makes this worse. the sinister smile on his face, his hooded, dark eyes. his clawed hand wraps around your neck, squeezing just enough to make you gasp for air. "don't you worry your pretty little head about that, darling. you can take it." he grunts when you clench around him.

alastor's pulling out just in time to paint your thighs and stomach with thick ropes of his seed. you whimper as you feel it splashing on your skin, covering you and your clothes. you feel dirty and used, and my god do you want this to happen again. alastor catches his breath before planting a kiss to your forehead.

"are you going to cum already? with my hand around your throat?" he would laugh, but it's possibly the hottest he's ever seen you. your eyes glassed over with tears, you nod. "'m s-so close, al." you pant, barely making the words out before waves of pleasure crash into you and you're cumming hard on his cock. your vision goes black, choked moans escaping as alastor fucks your sensitive pussy.

"the next time i catch you wearing something like that, i won't hesitate to make an example out of you." his words lack the same bite from earlier, but you still shudder at his implications. he turns to grab something to clean you up with but stops dead in his tracks when you speak.

"y-yes sir..." you whisper.

[dear-ao3]

by popular request: how to write an email

a disclaimer that this is the specific kind of email you send when people are absolutely smiting you and you know a phone call or an in person meeting is not possible/will not help. like youre 12 emails deep in an email chain and going in circles. youve been re routed to 13 offices 4 separate times. those kind of emails.

credentials: ive taken something like 13 semesters of college (dont ask) and every single semester have had to fight at least 3 offices for varying reasons in order to take classes. (including one time where i was shorted 5k in financial aid. i ended up getting 200 more dollars than i needed in the end) also my dad taught me everything he knows about emails (hes a tradesman turned corporate man and most of his job consists of telling people (nicely) that what theyre doing sucks and makes absolutely no sense)

Step 1: figure out who the email needs to go go

there is nothing wrong with emailing 11 million people if it gets the job done. if someone isnt helping you and you Know that they Should Be feel free to start to copy their boss on the email. copy your boss on an email. (or advisor or whoever). even if you think the person might only be like Vaguely helpful, sometimes people know people.

also theres nothing wrong with emailing the same email to several departments. sometimes you have to make a lot of noise to get something done (again. as like a last resort. dont email 11 million people right out of the gate)

Step 2: remember to be Polite

a very tempting step to ignore especially when you are 13 thousand emails deep in problems. but! if you are not nice to them! they will probably continue to smite you in the future! you want to make friends! not foes! so no matter how much people are smiting you, try to resist the urge to be an utter dipshit because it will not get the job done. vent to a friend or a coworker and send your polite and nice email

Step 3: articulate the problem Clearly.

a very important step. especially if you are adding more people to your email chain. dont assume they know your exact problem. they probably are dealing with other problems. articulate Clearly what is happening, no matter how long the email may be. its far better to get a long and detailed email rather than a non helpful short one. that will only prolong the process of how long it takes the problem to get solved.

Step 4: cite your reciepts.

wildly important. send your screenshots your attachments your whatever the fucking fuck youve got. its always good to have a paper trail. this is also where you would state any previously attempts to have the problem Sorted (ie i reached out to x person on x y and z days about x problem and it is still not resolved). you would not believe how many people dont scroll down in an email, especially a forwarded/replied one. so summarize whats Down There in your most recent email

Step 5: use the appropriate lingo

you dont have to be Overly Formal but there are a few good Buzz Sentences that usually get the job done. for example:

As Per My Last Email: a great line. emphasizes that youve already mentioned this. and this is not the first time youre mentioning this point. also emphasizes that the Thing has yet to be solved

See Attached/See Below: under utilized. again. people do not open attachments and they do not scroll down. almost had a friend once fail a class because a professor gas lit them in an email chain saying they didnt receive the final paper when the paper itself was attached earlier in the email chain. be Painfully Literal. it pays off.

Help Me To Understand: this is one of my dad's favorite lines. it really shows that you have no fucking idea what the person youre emailing is getting at and youre offering them the opportunity to spell out their nonsense for you. so that you can then be like. well. clearly This is where the miscommunication lies. its a great line. has saved my ass many times. because it is not accusing it is just offering someone to understand. it does not attack. it just is.

Step 6: give a polite sign off.

something along the lines of "thank you in advance for any help" or "i look forward to hearing from you" does the job. something that sends the message you are not pissed to shit at them even if you are.

Step 7: follow up and follow up often.

polite email response time is 48 business hours/2 business days. if it has been longer than that you have every right to email back and say hi x person just following up on this email, have you had the chance to review it yet? again. keep it polite. you actually want them to help you. and if they still dont respond well then maybe its time to loop in a boss or a supervisor or whoever the hell else. dont be afraid to go above them if you need to. nothing wrong with getting shit done when it needs to get done.

and really, if all that fails, as my dad says, a little office bribe in the form of cookies has never hurt anyone :)

so an email. should be formatted something like this:

Greetings/Good Morning (Afternoon) (Person)

I hope this email finds you well (or something similar for a greeting). I am reaching out regarding X incident/problem/whatever the fuck it is. I have previously reached out to X person on X dates and (summary of whatever they did or didnt do). See below/attached emails/pdf/screenshot/document (if applicable)

(explanation of the problem in as simple and detailed terms as possible. have someone re read it to make sure that it cannot be misconstrued)

(explanation of what you are looking for as a solution)

Please help me to understand why this (solution) has not been able to be reached. (explain you are on x timeline if the situation is urgent)

Kind regards/Thank you for any help in advance/I look forward to hearing from you etc,

email signature

go forth and conquer your emails. remember, sometimes you have to be a squeaky wheel. and in my million cases of email sending, it has ALWAYS paid off and i have gotten the problems solved. dont be afraid of the emails they can help you.

[iamred-iamyellow]

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ Puppy Love

♥ masterlist | request rules | based on this post

♥ pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

♥ synopsis: the golden retriever puppy you were fostering had gone missing and ran into f1 driver lando norris. lando attempted calling the number on his collar, talking to a few shelters, and making some found dog signs, but he wasn’t successful in finding you. this was until you stumbled upon an instagram post of his, allowing you to reach out and have the perfect puppy meet cute.

♥ smau + written - fc: girls on pinterest - as always none of the pictures are mine

♥ warnings: swearing !!!

♥ a/n: @coff33andb00ks I hope you like it <3

-Monaco, F1 Summer Break-

There was no doubt that Lando was due for a much needed break from F1. He however did not imagine he'd be spending it with someone else.

He was walking around the Monegasque streets near his apartment when something blonde and fluffy ran straight into his legs, causing him to stumble backwards.

He caught his balance, looking towards the ground to find a golden retriever sitting at his feet.

He softly squealed as he knelt down to pet the puppy, checking its tag for information. "Your name is Oscar, huh?" he smiled, holding the dog's face in his hands. “That’s cute. I guess you're twinning with my teammate.”

He checked the back of the tag for a phone number to call, but received no answer after a few attempts.

He'd waited around that area of Monaco in case Oscar's owner had only been a few blocks away, but as time quickly passed, he had to accept that no one was going to show up.

liked by oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1, maxfewtrell and 1,194,843 more

landonorris I found this adorable boy on my walk today in monaco. hope I can find his owner(s) soon

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charles_leclerc all my friends have dogs now 🥰

maxverstappen1 😐

charles_leclerc @/maxverstappen1 you heard me

user6 that's literally the cutest puppy I've ever seen

user8 he looks so sweet 😭

lewishamilton looks like roscoe has a lot of competition now

♡ by landonorris

user1 AWWWW

user4 🥺

-A Day Later-

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

You and Lando had mutually agreed to meet up at a dog park. The minute he spotted you oscar ran and jumped straight into your arms to lick your face.

“Hey buddy,” you laughed, cuddling up to the puppy on your arms.

You held a hand out to Lando, "It's great to meet you. Thank you so much for taking care him."

"It was no problem," he smiled, shoving his hands in his pockets.

Lando melted at the adorable interaction between you and Oscar. You were smiling and scrunching your nose, petting the soft fur on the top of the puppy's head.

"I'm gonna miss him," he said.

You smiled at Lando then back at Oscar who was still cradled in your arms. You booped his snout and shifted your gaze back to Lando.

"He is a foster... maybe you'd like to consider adopting him?"

Lando's eyes lit up, "Seriously?"

You laughed softly and nodded your head.

"Yes, absolutely. I would love to adopt him."

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

liked by landonorris, lando.jpg, maxfewtrell, and 378,583 more

yourusername a certain someone is excited to see @/landonorris again

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maxfewtrell aw is that certain someone you

yourusername …

user1 everyone back the fuck up who is she and how is she so gorgeous

landonorris I can see the ferrari logo on your top you know

yourusername it’s not like I have any other f1 merch

landonorris I guess I’ll have to give you my McLaren shirt whenever you come to a race 😉

yourusername I suppose you will

user7 guys they're flirting this isn't a drill

user2 Lando likes this on both accs he’s WHIPPED

user10 I’m still not over how fucking adorable oscar is

oscarpiastri aw thanks

user6 😭

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

Before the Netherlands Grand Prix Lando had asked you to take care of Oscar for another few days. The adoption papers had already been signed but he wanted to get to know the puppy more before ever considering bringing him along to a race.

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri, maxverstappen1 and 428,502 more

yourusername @/landonorris oscar misses you 🥺

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user7 likely place for him to be

user7 oh you were talking about the dog

user1 HE LOOKS SO SAD :(

user3 NOOO

user8 how could you resist those eyes

landonorris I miss you both too

♡ by yourusername

maxfewtrell “both”. oh? I didn't know you two were close like that 🧐

user5 max is so me

-Azerbaijan Grand Prix-

liked by mclarenracingf1, landonorris, oscarpiastri and 582,472 more

yourusername jumping straight into his dad’s arms

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landonorris ❤️

♡ by yourusername

user7 SCREAM

user1 THE HEARTTTTTTAAHHHHH

user4 “into his DAD’S arms”

user19 guys they’re in love I’m calling it

mclarenracingf1 the cutest guest we’ve ever had 🥰

landonorris the cutest dog in the paddock

charles_leclerc you take that back

lewishamilton you take that back

pierregasly you take that back

user10 I feel like after every post they just make it seem more and more like they're a couple

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc, maxfewtrell, and 1,038,573 more

lando.jpg @/yourusername

comments are restricted

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri, maxfewtrell and 1,582,921 more landonorris cuddles with my boy and my girl ❤️

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yourusername I love you

landonorris I love you 🫶

danielricciardo awwww

oscarpiastri mom and dad are back together

maxfewtrell I fucking knew it

user19 I CALLED IT

user1 cutest love story ever 😭

[leviathanleva]

Caffè Crema

[Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!FemReader]

Excitement for your morning coffee turns to panic when you bump into a mountainous stranger in a grey hoodie, sporting a skull mask. Sputtered apologies become a conversation in a corner of the café. And he’s so beat up, battered and bruised and scarred that you can’t help the words that leave your lips:

“Do you want to come home with me?”

[5k words ]

Chapter 1 "Caffeine Rush"

Airpods in your ears, music vibrating through your soul, you were ready for the world outside.

Sweet Saturday morning, after a week of work and barely any time for yourself, you’d decided on a treat to start off the weekend. You’d slept in late, phone alarm turned off and sleeping mask tugged on, new sheets prepared the night before because it was so comforting to wake up to the subtle smell of detergent. And once you were finally up, you’d decided fuck it, go out and get a nice steaming hot coffee in a cute paper cup from the local café, listen to Lofi or Lana Del Rey or whatever Spotify had prepared for your daily suggestions on the way, cozy up in a warm winter jacket and a thick scarf. Bless the crisp December air, it nipped at your cheeks and filled your lungs with sharp frosty air. It numbed your nose too and made your eyes water, but those weren’t as positive as the previous two affixes.

The streets were buzzing, a rare sight of the sun peeking through a blanket of grey clouds was shining down on you.

All in all, it was going to be a good day.

You waited impatiently for the light to turn green before crossing the street with a horde of nameless individuals, keeping in tandem with them.

Snow was still a no-show, you could only hope for its appearance at least on Christmas. The holidays without a fluffy coat of white powdering over everything from trees to rooftops just didn’t sit well with you, but at the end of the day, it was up to Mother Nature, not you. Anything but the ice rain you’d had the week prior; you weren’t ready to skate to the store again.

The bell above the café door shakes to life, signaling your entrance. You tuck one airpod in your pocket to listen in on the chatter in the comfy, coffee bean scented establishment, and also because you didn’t want to miss anything the cashier said. You were the anxious type after all, didn’t wanna miss a thing ever.

The heating system is blasting, cranked to the max, steam comes in large waves from behind the oak counter, be it from warm beverages or baked goods fresh from the oven, it lingers long enough for you to get a whiff before being diligently sucked away by the range hood. You unzip the top part of your jacket before getting too stuffy, loosen your scarf and take off your gloves. The staff, donned in their creamy yellow aprons, zip back and forth between tables like worker ants and you step into the line of waiting customers to keep out of their way.

The hardwood floor is licked spotless, looking down, you can almost see your reflection staring back at you. The hum of the large coffee grinder fills your exposed ear and you decide to turn off Spotify for the moment and bask in the café’s ambience instead.

The line moves, it’s almost your turn and you glance up at the display monitors listing off all the choices on the menu for today. Lattes, milkshakes, espressos, you decide on a large cappuccino, leave experimenting with unfamiliar drinks for another day when you’re feeling more courageous.

“Large cappuccino, please.” You say with a polite smile and fish out your wallet from your pocket.

Coffee is cheap here, cheaper than in most cafés and that’s one of the things that keeps you coming back to this place. It’s not easy to afford treats when you live on your own and have to pay the bills and groceries alone. However, you manage, and being able to afford a coffee or takeout once in a while is all the sweeter when knowing you owe nothing to nobody.

You take your cup and nudge your chin for the barista to keep the change before stepping away to the sidebar littered with plastic lids, sugar packets, and cheap wooden teaspoons for stirring your drink. After a brief consideration, you decide not to sweeten your coffee and only take a large lid, pop it over your cup and after zipping your jacket back up, you’re about to turn and walk out.

A walk through the park where you can sit down and enjoy your drink suggestively passes by your mind. Deciding that’s exactly what you will do, you palm through your pocket for your discarded airpods while nursing your paper cup to your chest.

And maybe it was your fault for not paying enough attention because you were buzzed to have a nice relaxing weekend. Or that you’d already achieved your first goal of the day and you were about to have a nice vibey stroll while hurrying to stuff your ears with music before you left the café. Maybe you’d jinxed your Saturday by confidently thinking it would be a swell time and nothing wrong would happen for once.

You should have known better. You should have suspected something would go wrong.

Something always goes wrong.

You whirl around with the intent of being on your way, expecting the glass doors to be in view, but they aren’t. A mountain of flesh and muscle stands before you. And your reaction time is too slow to save yourself or your coffee.

You jump, your hand flinches and the paper cup goes flying, a gasp upon your lips so loud it turns heads. You can only watch in horror as it makes contact with a wide chest clad in a grey hoodie, the lid pops off from the force of the impact and the hot contents inside go in every direction.

“Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my freaking God.”

One hand goes up to cover your agape mouth while the other clutches at the zipper of your jacket as panic crawls up your neck and prickles your scalp.

The worst part is that your coffee wasn’t the only casualty. The poor guy had dropped his beverage to pull his hoodie off his chest the moment your scalding beverage had soaked it.

There was steam coming off it. It was boiling and you’d spilled it on him.

You wanted to die.

And he’s fucking terrifying too. Easily two heads over you and built like a truck. The intricate skull mask obscures the lower half of his face and you can’t discern if he’s absolutely pissed or just mildly uncomfortable with the large stain plastered on his top.

His eyes are sharp, trained on his ruined hoodie, crow’s feet crinkled, and you’re grateful they’re not directed at you because you were a step away from breaking down on the spot.

A stone lodged itself in your throat.

If he didn’t curse you to oblivion, he’d either break you in half, or worse, sue you.

You can’t get fucking sued. You don’t have the money to get sued.

So much for having a good day…

“Oh my God, I’m sorry.” You sputter out and grab a handful of paper towels from the counter. You’re glancing up at him every now and again for fear of his patience running out. “I’m so so sorry.”

Shaky hands are tapping away at his top, soaking in the liquid as best you can while trying to keep from breaking down. Your tongue is arrested between your teeth, bitten down on hard in a self-soothing attempt. Your fingertips are stained with coffee because there‘s so much of it that it’s turning the paper towels to mush. You couldn’t care less about that or that you were practically sweating bullets under your jacket.

All you hoped for was that you hadn’t caused the poor guy a burn.

“ ‘s okay.” He murmurs in a thick British accent while watching you fuss over him with growing anxiety. The jitter in your movements would be almost comical if not for you practically hyperventilating on him.

“Excuse me, are you alright?”

“No.” You whine, before you can stifle your voice to normalcy, and turn to the cashier peeking from behind the counter with watery eyes and a deeply carved frown. “No. I’m so sorry, we spilled our drinks. I mean, I spilled - ” You take in a breath to compose yourself and brush a hand over your forehead, shoulders slumping. You’re giving your best apologetic expression, practically mourning over the mess you’d made at your feet and of the man looming next to you.“ – I’m sorry. I can clean it up if you have a mop.”

“Oh, it’s no problem, miss. We’ll mop it up.” The cashier replies, bless her, and signals for one of the waiters to fetch the cleaning supplies. The friendly smile never wavers from her balmed lips; neither does the caffeinated twinkle in her eyes.

She’s most likely seen this sort of thing plenty of times, but for you, it’s a first and it’s your fault to top it off. It’s not an easy pill to swallow and despite the atmosphere being anything but hostile, you can’t help but still feel guilty.

Of course, this had to happen to you of all people. You weren’t allowed a single day of peace and tranquility.

With the main cause of disturbance taken care of, you turn back to your victim, who’s joined you in trying to dry off his hoodie. Your stomach churns at the sight, and you’re afraid to look around in case all eyes are on you two. You can’t bear the scrutiny, even though most people have probably resumed their dwellings by now.

“Are you okay? Does it hurt? I’m so sorry, sir.” You ask and reach for more paper towels, pressing them against his chest more so to show you’re very apologetic and trying to fix the situation rather than actually fixing it because most of the coffee has already come out.

You glance up at him after mustering up the courage, curious as to what awaited you next. He returns your gaze with one of indifference or calmness, you can’t tell, blinks at you slowly, as if he’s just now taking your flustered form for the first time, then he speaks, more clearly this time.

“It’s fine.”

A server arrives with a mop in hand and you both step away from the mess to let them clean it up. You take the lead unintentionally and guide the stranger towards one of the vacant tables in the corner of the café, away from prying stares.

You pick the chair next to the wall that has a large ficus partially looming over the seat. Maybe with enough luck, you can disappear inside it.

Finally, unzipping your jacket because you’re about to faint from the stuffiness, you lay it on the cushioned backrest of the chair and pat it down to make sure you’d not accidentally dropped any of your belongings during the accident. You tug at your sweater to air out the thin sheen of nervous sweat that’s formed over your skin, brush off the strands of hair that have come to stick to your face and take off your scarf.

The stranger sits on the opposite chair, paper towel still to his chest and sucking out any leftover residue. The stain won’t leave your vision no matter how hard you try to rip the two separate. It’s the worry gnawing at your gut that keeps you rooted to your spot, wanting to approach but too afraid to do so.

But so far he’s been a nice guy, hasn’t said one single bad word to you.

Your mind reels with how red and irritated his skin must be, praying it hadn’t blistered up already. You have half a mind to ask him to take off his hoodie so you can take a look.

A fresh wave of panic wraps its dainty fingers around your neck in squeezes, sends needles to prick over random places on your body.

And all this time, you’ve been sputtering out apologies like a broken record, his dismissal of your regret not even reaching your ears let alone registering.

“Should I call an ambulance? Oh my God, I’ve never had to call an ambulance in my life…” You ask, mumbling the last part to yourself as the realization hits you square in the face. For a brief moment, you forget how to dial the emergency line because you’ve never had to use that number before. “I’m sorry, sir – I – I didn’t mean – ”

You continue to blabber while searching your jacket pocket for your phone. The guy might have said nothing at your suggestion, but you wanted to be safe and have your phone at the ready anyway. And you’re too preoccupied going ballistic with panic in your own little world to hear him repeatedly tell you that everything is fine and you’ve done no big deal, he doesn’t need an ambulance and that he’s fine.

“Hey!” He grabs the crux of your elbow and pulls you before him, a large knee on either side of your thighs. A startled noise crawls up your throat but you make no move to step away. You’re staring at him as your hands disappear inside his and he jerks them slightly, his voice lowering now that he’s caught your attention finally. “Relax. It’s alright. Happens.” His comfort is rough. His voice gruff and sounding more like a scold than anything. He shakes you a bit too hard, not used to handling something as delicate as you, and pulls you down enough to make solid eye contact. “Alright?”

You nod and avert your gaze away, soggy paper towels left in a pile on the table making your fingers twitch with the need to do more. Apologies simply aren’t enough, not when he’d probably need to apply ointment on his chest for a few days after your little fiasco.

Why did have to be such a hot mess all the time?

“At least…Let me buy you another drink. On me? It’ll make me feel better.” The frown is still tugging on your lips as you speak, shyly looking at him from under your lashes. “Please?”

He sighs softly at your relentlessness and shrugs before letting your hands slip from him, having kept them in his grasp for longer than he should.

“Sure.”

He leans back in his chair and readjusts both his hood and the cap poking beneath it before resting his elbows on the table.

“What did you order?” You question while fetching your wallet.

The innocent look you toss him has him forcing himself to stop staring at you like a creep. He clears his throat and rubs over his tired eyes tenderly before answering.

“Black tea with milk.”

And so you reorder your cappuccino, get him his tea and decide that a simple butter croissant as an apology is enough for the moment. Every time you turn around to glance at him, nervous that he’d simply slip away from your overbearing presence, he catches your stare without fail. Heat gathers around your ears and your lips purse unintentionally every single time and you quickly turn back to the cashier, pretending you hadn’t just been discovered ogling him.

The chair looks too small to encompass his hulking frame comfortably, the table is no different, but you guess he’s used to it by now. A man of his stature isn’t a common occurrence here. Poor thing probably has to bow to enter through most doorways and have his shirts custom-made with how wide his shoulders were. If he wore shirts at all that is.

He looks like he’s brooding when you return with the order, fingers linked together and thumbs dancing around each other.

You set the tea by his side, note the callouses and scarring around his knuckles, the roughness of his skin. Your first thought is that he’s a construction worker, it would explain his size, the biceps that are as big as your head and straining against the stitches of his hoodie, the casual clothes, and the dark circles under his eyes that make it easy for anyone to guess that he doesn’t rest enough. But then he pulls his mask down and lets it rest under his chin as he takes a prolonged sip from his drink. You note the crookedly mended nose after a trauma so potent it made your eyes water at the thought of what pain he’d endured. There’s a gash running along his thin lips, multiple ones that stand out from the light stubble peppering the lower part of his face, deep ones, ones that you guessed had needed stitches and took forever to properly heal.

Now you’re not so sure he’s a construction worker.

“So what do you do for a living?” It rolls off your tongue before you can stop it. You laugh nervously and raise a hand in a soothing motion before he even has a chance to answer. “You don’t have to tell if you’re not comfortable. I’m just curious.”

The mug of tea pauses before his lips and he gives you a skeptical look.

“Military.”

“Oh.” You blurt out and awkwardly take a sip from your coffee, nearly choking at how hot it is.

And that’s precisely the answer Ghost expected. It was a big turnoff for many people when they learned his career path, mostly because the news only displayed the bad outcomes of his work and never the good. He might have saved this entire city a week ago from a bombing and nobody would know.

It came with the territory and he half expected you to think up some lousy explanation as to why you suddenly had to go.

But you aren’t like that at all because of course, you aren’t. Why would it be made easy for him to forget you and move on with his day when you could be sweet and open and give him more reason to burn you into the crevices of his conscience instead? Why would you make an excuse and leave when you could stay and kindle the embers of his humanity and make yourself space to be a permanent memory?

That’s just his typical luck.

“Must be tough.” You muse, absentmindedly taking a napkin and wiping off the milk and tea mustache staining his upper lip, as if tending to a messy toddler. It comes instinctively and you don’t fight it until your fingers are already being poked by his stubble. “But thanks for keeping us normal folk safe.” You give his wide-eyed stare a warm smile, and tilt your head slightly to one side.

You notice the subtle way in which he moves his chin towards your hand, apprehensive of you pulling away. As if he’s fighting his demons to lean into your touch, to rest his cheek against your palm and close his eyes because he hasn’t been offered softness in so long that he doesn’t remember what it feels like anymore.

You don’t mind that his large hand reaches to try and still your wrist, aching for more delicate touches, but stops before coming in contact with your flesh, pulled back by self-deprecating restrain. You almost want to encourage him, he looks visibly altered by your simple gesture, like a dog who’d been beaten all his life and was given a treat for the first time.

“What happened to you, old soldier?” You want to ask gently, pry a little while you cup his face and let him rest on the softness of your palm, close his eyes for a brief moment of respite.

Your heart aches for him.

But then you remember he’s a stranger and the moment shatters.

The smile vanishes from your face, the warmth dissipates and you flinch back.

“Sorry.” You rush to say and crumble up the napkin in your hand before tossing it on the table and trying to brush off the suffocating awkwardness. “You had something there.” You motion to your upper lip before drowning in more coffee, hoping it will ease the discomfort.

Just what the hell had you been thinking?

And he’s not far behind you on that note. The flicker of softness dies in his chocolate browns and the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth stills and dips into neutrality. The exhaustion returns to his features and his gaze flits away from you as he gathers himself back together.

“You should eat tha’ ‘fore it gets cold.”

Your eyes trail to where he’d nudged his chin and you see the butter croissant you’d purchased along with your drinks. You giggle, it turns into a light laugh when his head cocks to the side in confusion because he’s yet to realize you’d gotten it for him.

Because why would he? He’s a soldier, he gets bullets and grenades, not tea and croissants.

Poor creature, sweet scarred sufferer, with so much weight on his shoulders you couldn’t imagine bearing.

“It’s for you.” You push the small plate closer to him and flick your hand for him to dig in, treat himself on your behalf if he won’t do it on his own accord.

“What?” He reels back in his seat slightly at your words, sets down his drink and tenses up. There’s so much disbelief there that it’s almost comical.

It’s like he’d never been treated before.

Maybe he hadn’t been.

Jesus Christ, what if he actually hadn’t been?

“I mean it’s the least I can do after drenching you in coffee.” You say and press the lid of your cup to your lips, hiding the sympathetic smile from view lest he takes it as pity.

You didn’t pity the man, not in the slightest, but from the tired eyes to the worn clothes, sunk-in shoulders and need for anonymity, you guessed he’d not seen much kindness.

It was easily discernable that he wasn’t used to taking care of himself. Coming to a café to get a drink was probably the maximum self-indulgence he’d permit himself.

“Didn’t ‘ave to.” He grumbles out, voice hoarse and cutting off at the end.

“I wanted to.” You say and wave off his meager comment.

Gods, you wanted to bathe him in sugar and softness.

He tugs the plate before him hesitantly, looking over the croissant as if not trusting it or you, then he picks it up. A small bite at first, one of apprehension before the treat melts on his tongue and awakens his taste buds. He finishes it in two mouthfuls, barely chews and you’re inclined to ask if he wants another, you’re ready to feed him the whole bakery stand if he so wishes. But he declines, whether from embarrassment or mistrust, you didn’t know.

You just know he’s hungry.

You give him your name while he’s washing down the croissant with his leftover tea, just throw it out there in the hopes that he’ll give you his. And he does after heaving a sigh.

“Simon.”

“Pretty name.” You note, toss him a friendly smile that’s a silent invitation for him to say more. “Nice to meet you then, Simon.”

But your friendliness doesn’t breach his defenses a second time. He eyes you with an unreadable expression, watches you slurp your coffee while you’re left to wonder if your compliment had been a mistake.

You might have been coming off as too friendly, trying to suck up to him after ruining his top and that was the reason why you were so nice. Or maybe he thought that there was a hidden agenda behind your acts, that you’d want something in return for your kindness and that’s why he kept his guard up.

Action without a need for reciprocation didn’t exist in his world. Nobody was stupidly selfless enough to just give and not want anything in return. But you were right there, proving him wrong and he wasn’t sure that fact was a fact anymore.

Throughout his internal debate, you’re doing your best to remain casual but it’s difficult with those dark orbs boring into your soul. It’s even more difficult when the silence settles, so you decide to ramble and keep the spirits up until he feels comfortable enough to join.

It might come off as annoying, but you’re sure he’ll stop you if you’re becoming too much to handle.

You tell him about your job, a brief summary of how rough your week had been that that was the reason why you’d come here this morning to treat yourself. You tell him you’re clumsier than you’d like to admit, that you can’t imagine drinking tea first thing in the morning. You tell him that you’d love to have a pet one day, but your landlord doesn’t permit any, ask him if he has pets or would want any. Then you ask if he’s more a cat or a dog person.

And throughout the entire time, he’s staring at you with this undigestible look and you have no idea what to make of it.

The caffeine pumping in your veins helps keep your monologue going until finally he speaks up.

“Bothering you?”

“What?” You spit out, cease your rambling and scrunch your brows at him in confusion.

“The face.” He says, motioning towards his partly obscured face like it’s so obvious. “Ain’t a pretty mug to look at.”

You blink at him silently, at a loss for words at his not-so-kind statement. Your mouth parts, struggling to form a coherent reply because you’re absolutely thunderstruck that he thinks so lowly of you as to believe you’d be affected by such a thing.

Then again, he doesn’t know you, and neither do you him.

But the fact that he’s polite enough to ask while already anticipating the answer tells you that he might have had this conversation one too many times already. Or maybe he hadn’t, maybe the mean comments and ugly remarks were all in his head and he hid his face to stifle those rather than hide from other people.

You don’t know which alternative is sadder.

“No! Not at all.” You say slowly, accenting every word that comes out of your mouth, with eyes trained on his and refusing to blink in case you missed anything. “You’re handsome, really.” You dare to reach out for him and rest your hand atop his, gentle and ready to pull back in case his features portrayed any hint of discomfort with your actions. “Plus your scars mean you put yourself before me to keep me safe, right? Can’t judge you for that.”

Now he’s the one left speechless.

Wordlessly, he twists his wrist, rolls his hand around and slowly unclenches his fingers to let yours through. And your hand is so soft and warm when it slips over his mauled palm, even the skin is a stark contrast because yours is so smooth, spotless, perfect, compared to his.

He runs his large thumb over your knuckles, relishes the tingly feeling it gives him, watches intently because he’s sure that as soon as his eyes move to somewhere else, you’ll vanish and it’ll all be over. Your fingers fall against his wrist where his pulse leisurely beats, only quickening when you shift in your seat because he thinks you’ll pull away.

Manicured nails trace over the scars poking from beneath the sleeve of his hoodie and he shivers, the hairs on his arms rising. He lets you tug the sleeve back, wanting to know how far the violent marks go. Soon enough black and grey ink peeks from under the fabric and a ghost of a smile tugs at his lips at how delighted you seem.

“Oh, I love tattoos…” You hum while tracing the tips of your fingers over it.

“Got any?” He asks absentmindedly, almost mechanically as all his attention is focused on the little hand exploring his own.

“That’s for me to know and for you to find out.” You giggle, eyes closing briefly in delight as you bask in the fuzzy atmosphere.

He bites his tongue at that, decides now isn’t the time for flirty remarks, bids you too esteemed to fall for a sleazy comeback that might result in him naked in your bed. No, you were made to be courted, won over with effort and flowers and all the things he hasn’t bothered with in the past.

You were the type of woman that he avoided for fear of messing things up, someone who deserved better than him and he wasn’t ashamed of admitting that. Yet here you were, practically thrust in his arms by chance.

“Do you want another tea?” You ask because his drink is gone and what’s left at the bottom of your cup is two sips at most. And you don’t end this to end, you don’t want him to leave just yet.

“I’m good.” He answers and retracts his arm before standing. “Gonna ‘ave a smoke outside. Cheers for the tea.”

It’s not a goodbye, but it still makes your heart ache and your mind switches to turbo mode to try and think of something.

Your next question doesn’t come from a place of desire or lust. You’ve no intent of trying to get the battered soldier into your bed and use him for selfish pleasure. You’d never let yourself be so cruel.

“Do you want to come home with me?”

You ask because to you, he’s a stray in need of a home, someone to take care of him a little and nurse him back into a better shape before his next big military mission. It’s naïve, stupid really, to think a grown man such as himself can’t take care of himself.

But the way he looks tells you a sad story and you’d spoken before thinking. Now you’re left with a hot face and a fluttering stomach as he stares at you over his shoulder with something akin to surprise.

“I mean…for lunch, sometime. My treat of course.” You say next, trying to salvage the moment before it got too awkward and you were forced to go to the toilets and hyperventilate while beating yourself up internally. “You don’t have to – ”

“ – Yeah.”

And you swear you saw his eyes squint with a smile hidden somewhere behind the bulk of his shoulder.

Chapter 2 >>>

Masterlist

[pseudowho]

Good Boy

The first time you called Kento a good boy, his mouth was between your thighs on the sofa, three fingers thrusting inside you, tongue and nose stroking between your folds like your taste would wash away his terrible, awful, no-good day.

Your hips bucked up off the pillows against his mouth, and you gasped, tugging Kento's messy blond hair at the roots; "oh fuck...Kento just like that, don't stop, fuck...such a good boy."

With a sharp intake of breath, and a shuddering moan, Kento came down his thigh, cock leaping in its confines, pyjamas soaked and sticking to him as you reached your peak, thighs clamping against his head. Stunned, Kento raised his head, staring at you in reverence with glistening eyes and a pink blush across his cheeks and nose.

"Kento, did you-- I didn't even think you were close--" you breathed, still panting, and Kento blushed harder. You giggled, a hand over your mouth. With a wicked look in your eyes, you tugged Kento's hair, to pull his face back to your pussy, "but you are a good boy."

Kento shivered again, mortified by how sinfully sweet it felt, to be called a good boy after such a dreadful day.

Ever since, his every bad day could be improved by your softly whispered praises.

Between your legs, his back was against your chest in the bath. You stroked his aching length with soapy hands, squeezing at the tip, wet little sucks coming from the water as your fist swirled around his cockhead. Kento gripped your legs, the sides of the bath, his blond head rocking from side to side as he moaned, a low, desperate, gravelly sound.

Your tongue traced his ear, nipping gently, and Kento shuddered, his orgasm close, but not yet there. He just needed something...something more...something different.

"Please," he begged, hips bucking involuntarily into your soft wet hand, "please..."

You moaned ever so gently into his ear; "I want to see you twitch while you cum...good boy." Kento groaned, long and steeped in ecstasy, almost blinded by pleasure as his orgasm hit like a starfall. You swore you could cum from the image of him alone, convulsing against you, white-knuckles gripping the bathtub, gasping, cock jerking warm spurts of his seed into your hands.

Another day, sat at his desk, his head in his hands and trying to contain his throbbing headache, you sidled over to him. He gave only the briefest hesitation when you sat in front of him, your skirt tucked up around your waist, pushing his papers aside. The briefest parting of your legs showed your panties wet, all for him, pushed to the side of your poor clenching pussy.

You pulled Kento to you by his tie, and by the time his lips met yours, he was already feeling fire and spice run down his spine from the intoxication of you.

Gripping him close, as he necked you like an eager virgin, you felt the insistent push of his cock against your puffy lips, and rocked your hips forward to invite him in.

Broad hands clasping at your arse, fingertips bruising, Kento saw a burst of petals and stars as he sank into the plush heat of you. He stayed this way, cockwarmed, as you stroked the day off his shoulders, rocking him, hushing him with his cock twitching deeply inside you.

Your hands worked into the knots of his mountainous shoulders, feeling the aching muscles roll and ripple under your fingers. Kento couldn't help but buck into you, moaning desperately into your neck, trying to stop his thrusts chasing your pussy away. He barely pulled out, just needing to be deeper, closer.

Your hand trailed off his shoulders and to his tie, and you spun it around gently so it trailed down his back instead of his chest. Giving it one slow, choking tug, you whispered to Kento; "you deserve all the best things in the world, my Kento...my good boy."

Kento choked against his tie, his knees almost buckling as he came, biting into your neck with a strangled growl, cum pouring against your cervix, and he bucked like it was his first time inside you.

He was shaking and sated and doe-eyed as he nuzzled your neck, always so happy to be your good boy, when the work he did never complimented him for his efforts.

[bbyquokka]

nerd in love

– after a misunderstanding, jisung finally tells yn how he feels at his birthday party .ᐟ.ᐟ

pairing | han jisung x fem reader

genre | mutual pining , fluff , uni au – 18+ is strongly advised!

cw | she/her pronouns used ; mostly in jisung pov ; food and alcohol mentioned ; a lil suggestive at the end

words | 10.1k ~ ( 10,133 )

notes | well, here it is! i started this before my break (which is why its so late) but finished it during my break n i just wanted to post it bc im proud of this n i adore this version of jisung n the friendship dynamics !! :( don’t forget to leave feedback, reblog and tell me what you think here. i hope you all enjoy! ‹3

m.list — wips list — you can also read it on my ao3

dont repost. dont translate. minors, ageless & default blogs; dni! feedback and reblogs are highly advised and appreciated!

your pen taps against the white, lined sheet of paper that has a few scribbles and doodles on. your cheek resting on your hand as you sigh a little in boredom. 

the professor has been groaning on and on about the same thing. you want to listen and take in the information as you know it's important, but your mind wanders and you start to daydream; making imaginary scenarios.

you'd imagine an alien suddenly abducting you because it heard your silent cries of boredom. you and the alien would become the best of friends, the alien showing you around it's space shuttle and inviting you to have some tea and cake before making friendship bracelets – because that's what humans do, right?

other times, you'd imagine a strong, buff greek god suddenly turning up in class. he'd walk to you and take your hand, claiming that you're his long lost bride, before carrying you bridal style and off into the sunset where you two would get married and have babies.

so caught up in your fake scenarios, you don't see that another student is now looking at you.

the student is sitting in front of you–his usual designated spot. black hair that's long and permed and covers his eyes. glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. dressed in a button up shirt and black jeans, paired with a few accessories and black doc marten boots.

“excuse me.” he whispers, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “you're making too much noise.” he frowns.

you snap out of your daydream and sit up straight, wiping the imaginary drool from your chin with the back of your hand.

“o-oh.. sorry jisung.” you laugh awkwardly. he tuts and rolls his eyes before facing the front. you scoff a little and sit back in your seat.

you don't have very many friends in university, a small handful but it's enough and you don't have very many enemies either, but since jisung started the same class as you, he's been cold towards you.

he's not like this with other people, just you–it's like he can't stand you.

but for some reason, his cold, mean demeanour just makes you want him and find him even more attractive.

it's not a kink of yours, to be spoken down to and degraded. in fact, you love having the attention on you and being treated kindly and gently so it's unknown to you why you find him so attractive.

“alright class! that's all for today. you're all dismissed.” the teacher says. you silently cheer, packing up your things in your backpack.

jisung rises to his feet and swings his bag onto his shoulder, letting it rest there before pulling out his phone. you both catch eye contact with each other.

“see you tomorrow?” you say politely and smile. jisung quickly looks away and mumbles something before walking out in a rush.

maybe you're still daydreaming, but you swore you could see the tips of his ears turning a light shade of pink. 

────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

“fuck, i’m so late!” you alternate between running and speed walking your way to your class. your alarm didn't go off this morning so when you finally awoke, it was up and out in a flash. “i'm so screwed!”

today is an important day. the teacher was going to go over a few things on a test that's due in a few weeks so you really needed to attend it to get an idea–but alas, here you are. hair disheveled, dried up drool on your chin and your socks mismatched with your backpack hanging off your shoulder.

you breathe a sigh of relief before stopping in front of the lecture hall doors. you take a deep breath and fix yourself up before reaching out to open the doors.

the doors suddenly swing open. the students exiting the hall. you stand in the middle of the students as they walk around you, engaging in conversations with their friends.

you frown in confusion, looking at the time on your phone. your eyes widen even more, bulging from the sockets.

“oh wow.. i really fucked up.” you were a lot later than you thought.

you look up to see jisung looking at his phone. today he's in a plain, black t-shirt and skinny jeans. a few chains hanging around his neck and converse.

“hey, ji!” you call out. he looks up at whoever is calling him before his face twists into disgust when he realises it's you. you ignore this, mainly because he rushes past you.

you frown and chase after him, trying to keep up with his speed–but he's too fast.

“hey! wait! i know you heard me, ji!!”

“don’t call me that. my name is jisung.” he mumbles.

“ok ok, sorry! just, i need help!” 

“find it elsewhere.” his tone of voice is cold towards you; like always. again, you ignore it.

“please, i’m desperate! my alarm didn't go off and i clearly missed class! i know it was super important too and–can you slow down and listen to me?!” you huff.

jisung lets out an irritated sigh and looks at you; phone in one hand, earphones in the other. he stops in the middle of the corridor and looks at you.

you bend down, hands on your knees to catch your breath. 

“you being late has nothing to do with me. it's your own fault for being late.” he says, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“yeah, i know.”

“you fucked up and now you want my help? how could i possibly help you?”

“i need your notes.”

“my notes? fuck no.” 

“oh please, ji… sorry–jisung. i really, really need this.” you pout. jisung groans and rubs the back of his neck.

“ok, fine.” he sighs in defeat. you're taken aback by how easy it was for him to surrender his notes over to you; but you don't complain. he takes his notebook out of his bag and hands it to you. you cheer and open it up, looking at the notes.

his handwriting is beautiful. his notes are easy to follow, however, you've come to the realisation that looking at notes isn't going to be enough for you to get the information to stick in your mind.

“make sure to give it to me by the end of the day. i’m usually at the library.” he says as you flick through his notes. “if you can't find me, find minho. he's my roommate.” 

you don't respond due to the fact that so much information is causing your brain to go into information overload. jisung sighs again and, as he is about to walk away, you grab his arm.

“wait!” you make a quick mental note of how soft his skin is and how muscular he feels. jisung looks at your hand that's on him, feeling heat quickly rise to his cheeks and his heart to thumb erratically in his chest.

“your hand.” he whispers. you lean in close to get a better understanding of what he just said.

“pardon?”

“hand. your hand. please remove it.”

“oh!” you quickly remove your hand from him. jisung clears his throat and looks down, hoping that his long hair covers his face to hide the blush that's happily sitting on his cheeks.

you see it though and make a note of how adorable he looks. you feel your own heartbeat skipping beats and beating erratically but you put it down to you having to sprint to class.

“i don't think this will be enough.” you start. he looks up at you. “the notes.. i don't think it's going to be enough.”

“well, there's a library and also the internet. there’s this thing called google, so use that.”

“teach me.” his eyes widen in shock.

“t-teach you?! fuck no, yn!”

“please, jisung! just until the test is over! i really, really need this. i’m desperate and, although your notes are so perfect, it's going to take a lot more than notes for me to understand it!”

“then ask the tutor for a one-on-one! or ask your friend!!” he stutters in shock. his cheeks are now bright red.

“you know the tutor doesn't do one-on-ones and my friends don't even take this class! oh please, jisung. pleeeaseee. pretty pretty pleeease.” you pout, giving him puppy eyes.

“yn…”

“i’ll buy you your coffee everyday for a full month.”

“... just my coffee?”

“what sweet treat do you like?”

“...cheesecake.” he answers reluctantly.

“then coffee and cheesecake on me for a full month!” jisung runs his fingers through his hair slowly, a soft, defeated sigh leaving his lips as he contemplates.

“you really need this, huh.” you nod your head fast to the point of dizziness. “you drive a hard bargain, yn. but fine.”

you cheer and grin widely.

“on some conditions though.”

“what?”

“we study in the library, you don't be late and we only do this until the test is over! after that, i won't teach you anymore.”

“yes sir.” you salute. “oh, do you want my contact information? might make it easier to set up study dates.”

“study dates?” 

“yeah! i assume we have different schedules due to different classes, so it's better to text or call each other so we know when to meet up!”

“true.. ok, fine. give me.” you tell jisung your contact information. he phones you and you smile as you save his contact information.

“thank you so much, jisung! you're the best!” you say before sprinting off to find your friend leaving a flustered jisung bewildered in the middle of the corridor.

“study dates, huh.. i kinda like that.” 

────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

“dude, chill. you're just going to the library to study” jisung’s roommate laughs as he watches jisung scurrying around the place as he packs his bag. 

minho is relaxing on jisung’s bed, shirtless and in sweats with round glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose whilst eating an ice pop. him and jisung have been the best of friends since university started and he became jisung’s roommate.

since then, they've both been inseparable. many people speculate that something is going on between the two of them, indicating a relationship–minsung, they call them.

“i am chill.” jisung mumbles as he shoves in a few too many pens into his pencil case.

“yeah, suuuure.” minho laughs as he licks and sucks on his popsicle. “i’ve watched you run around the place like a headless chicken.”

“dude, please hush.” jisung looks at minho just as some sticky sweet ice drops onto minho's chest. he scoops it up with his fingers and eats it. jisungs sighs “do you have to eat that on my bed?”

“yeah. problem?” minho smirks

“yes. quite a few actually. you're going to get the sheets sticky!” jisung whines.

“not the first time i've heard that.” minho laughs at his own joke. jisung rolls his eyes but the corner of his lips turn upright into a smile as he holds back his laugh.

“you're disgusting.”

“yeah? and you're a mess right now, bro.” minho places the wooden popsicle stick on jisung's side table before swinging his legs around to plant his feet on the floor.

he stands and walks to jisung, ruffling his hair a few times.

“you're just going to study, that's all. it's not that big of a deal, bro. unless….” minho smirks and wiggles his brows at jisung.

“unless what? what are you implying, minho?” jisung says as he crosses his arms across his chest and raises his brow.

“unless you, oh i don't know, like her.” jisung's eyes widen a little and he clears his throat, turning his head to avoid eye contact with minho. “aha!! i knew it! you do like ‘em!”

“no, i don't. fuck off, minho.” jisung mumbles and rushes to his desk, messing and organizing a few things to ‘look busy.’

minho skips over to jisung with a smirk. “c’mon ji. we all know you've been smitten with yn since the very beginning. it's soooo obvious!”

“dude, please. i don't like her like that. and it's jisung–not ji!”

“ahuh. whatever you say, dude.” minho laughs. 

“plus, she probably doesn't like me in that way..” jisung mumbles before sighing softly.

“have you asked her that?”

“well… no but–”

“then how do you know?” 

“i just do, ok?! enough with the questions, minho. don't you have that media assignment to do or something?”

“nope.” minho says, popping the p in an obnoxious way. “all done, which means i am a free man.”

“no one is a ‘free man’ in university, minho.” jisung laughs. 

“ugh, you're right. even though one assignment is done, i still have a gazillion more.” minho runs his fingers through his long, shaggy hair. “speaking of which, i best start with at least one of them.”

“good luck, man. you'll do great.” jisung says sarcastically, paring it with a sarcastic grin.

“fuck you. good luck with yn, jisung.” minho turns around and walks out of jisung's bedroom. “hope you get laid!” he shouts.

“fuck you.” jisung laughs. minho sticks his middle finger up at jisung before laughing and closing his bedroom door.

with the last of his things packed, he zips up his back. he checks one last time in the mirror, fixing his hair and spraying his best perfume onto his neck. he puts his hand up to his mouth, huffing on it before sniffing. pulling a face, he grabs a mint and pops it into his mouth, sucking on it as he puts on his shoes and a leather jacket.

“it’s just a study thing. it's not that serious. calm down, jisung.” he mumbles as he laces up his shoes.

but he can't stop his heartbeat from thumping loudly against his ribcage and excitement to rush through his body. his excitement is so big, it makes him shake. 

“it’s not a big deal. she probably doesn't like you that way.” he continues to mumble in an attempt to calm himself down as he takes one last look in the mirror. a smile slowly creeps up onto his face and a small squeal escapes from the back of his throat.

“fuck! i’m so screwed.” 

minho hears this and laughs at his friend's excitement before putting on his headphones. if there's one thing minho loves, is seeing his best friend happy and over the moon. he just hopes he won't get hurt.

“cute.” minho says to himself before typing away at his keyboard. jisung leaves the bedroom and shouts a goodbye to minho before heading out to the library.

nervous doesn't describe how jisung is feeling. as he walks to the library, his legs start to feel like jelly and the urge to turn back strong the closer he gets to his destination. he hopes that you're not there first just so he has time to calm himself down.

he even tries to listen to music in hopes that it would calm him down somewhat. but the soothing sounds of violins and cellos do nothing (he even tried listen to a few seconds of whale noises but even that was useless)

“we’re just studying. nothing more.” he repeats under his breath as he walks inside the library.

the place is nicely decorated, modern with a hint of an historic touch. students at tables and little cubicles, headphones on and studying. some in groups, whispering as they do projects of various kinds. some making the most of how quiet it is to take a quick nap. the occasional rustling of snack packets paired with the occasional crunch breaks the silence every so often.

it's silent but it's lively.

jisung says a few hellos to some students he recognises (either from classes they take together or them being minho's friends) as he searches the area for you.

his heart thumping as he searches. he silently cheers when he can't see you because he has a chance to calm down, but, as he walks to an empty table at the very back of the room, his victory is cut short as he sees you sitting there; ready and waiting.

you have your back to him (and to everyone else) and you're hunched over your notebook. jacket resting on the back seat with your bag on the floor, by your side. jisung takes a quick, small peek over your shoulder to see what you're doing only to see small, quick doodles on the page from boredom.

his heart swells a little as it's another thing he's learnt about you. just when he thinks you couldn't get any more perfect.

“hey, yn.” he whispers only to realise that you won't hear him no matter how many times he calls for you due to the music that's blasting from your earphones. he makes a quick mental note of who you're listening to before trying to get your attention again.

“hey, yn.” he places his hand on your shoulder to which you jump at, causing jisung to jump at your reaction. you look behind you as you take out your earbuds, sighing in relief.

“jesus, jisung. you frightened me.” 

“sorry, yn. i didn't mean to.”

“no, it's ok. my music may have been a little too loud.” you laugh as you put them away and jisung sits next to you on one of the chairs.

“you know you'll get tinnitus if you keep doing that.” 

“yeah… i know. it's a bad habit but music sounds better loud, y‘know!” jisung nods in agreement before pulling out his notebook and pencil case.

you watch him lean down. you take the time to admire him. his hair soft and fluffy. you have to resist the urge to run your fingers through it. a faint smell of strawberries and flowers emits from his hair; a sickly sweet yet pleasant smell.

his skin is dewy and perfect; not a blemish in sight. a beauty mark sits close to his lips. it's a small mark so it's no wonder you never recognised it before.

you notice the way his biceps bulge and flex with every motion of his arms. the chains from his neck dangle a little and his aftershave wafts towards you and tickles your nose hairs.

“you smell so good.“ you mumble. jisung looks at you.

“excuse me?”

“you smell so fucking good.” you repeat and lean in close to him. your hair tickles his jawline and chin as you smell the skin of his neck. “what do you use?”

“...i–urm, i don't know. i just picked it up when i was shopping.” you hum and nod. jisungs soft cheeks slowly start to feel very hot. “personal space, yn. ever heard of it?”

“oh!! sorry. my bad. i didn't mean to make you uncomfortable.” you laugh awkwardly as a awkward silence falls upon you both.

jisung turns his head away from you so you can't see him but his cheeks are very red and hot as his heart beats fast. 

you were so close to him. so very, very close. he thought he was going to have a heart attack. he could smell you and to him, you smell so delicious and sweet; like vanilla cheesecake. 

“this is not good for my heart.” he mumbles to himself. 

“by the way” you begin. jisung looks at you. you slide a cold coffee and cheesecake in the middle of you both. “told you i’d stick to my end of the bargain.”

“i didn't expect you to do it so soon, yn. it's only the first session.”

you shrug. “a deals a deal.” jisung takes the cheesecake and coffee, sipping on it and humming softly as the bitter, cold taste coats his tastebuds and the caffeine enters his system.

“i didn't know what flavoured cheesecake you like so i hope it's ok.”

“what flavour is it?”

“strawberry”

“mhm, not bad.”

“you don't like strawberry?” you say with a small pout. he shrugs.

“it's fine. not the worst. but it's too sweet for me. i’m a vanilla kinda guy.”

“aah, ok. i’ll make a mental note of that.” you say as you tap your temple, laughing softly. jisung lets out a small puff of air from his nose. you see the corner of his lips curl into a small and that makes you feel like he's accepted you.

“now, enough chitchat. i actually want to be done in a decent time so, let's begin?”

────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

“sooooo” jisung looks up at minho, his chopsticks half hanging from his mouth, resting on his bottom lip.

the smell of spicy, instant ramen fills the air. minho cooked some food for the two of them as they have both been studying hard for upcoming tests and assignments. 

instant ramen with a slice of cheese on top. rice cakes, fish cakes and other yummy goodnesss swim in the broth. the kitchen looks a mess, pots and pans scattered everywhere–it contributes to the rest of the dorm with the various clothing and shoes scattered around.

“soooo…” jisung repeats, eyebrows raised. his bangs are tied back in a pink hair tie (your pink hair tie), a white vest top and sweats on his body. minho is also in sweats but with an anime print t-shirt and a sanrio clip to hold back his bangs and a pore strip on his nose; getting tighter and tighter by the second.

“have you asked her yet?”

“asked her what?” jisung takes some noodles and a fish cake, putting them on a small, separate plate before grabbing some kimchi.

“dude.” minho rolls his eyes and lets out a long, irritable groan. “for being smart, you sure are dumb.”

“you're just dumb through and through.” jisung smiles playfully as minho sticks his middle finger up at his best friend.

“fuck you.” minho takes a rice cake that's soaked in the ramen broth. he chews it, the sound of sticky, chewy rice cake emits from his mouth. “anyways! have you asked yn about the party?”

jisung lets out a slow grunt. “not this again, minho.” 

“what?!” minho says with a shrug as he continues to chew and talk.

“i already told you, and eeeeveryone else. i don't want a party or anything of the sort, minho. i just want it to be a nice, quiet day.” jisung’s eyes drift to the half chewed rice cake that's being tossed around in minho's mouth. he pulls a face in disgust. “and can you please not talk with your mouth full?”

“you're such a prude.” minho rolls his eyes but swallows his food regardless. “anyways, you know me, changbin and chan won't let you have a quiet birthday!”

“yeah, no shit.” jisung rolls his eyes as he slurps on his noodles. he wipes his mouth with a napkin before munching on some kimchi. “still don't understand why you all decided to plan a birthday party without my knowledge knowing full well i said no in the beginning.”

“dude, you're so boring.” minho jests. “it's your birthday!” he emphasise. “you're supposed to have a party, eat lots of cake and junk. drink beer, hang out with friends and maybe, get laid.”

he wiggles his eyebrows at jisung and laughs softly. with a heavy sigh, jisung puts his chopsticks down.

“no matter what, you're going to go through with this, aren't you?” 

“yup!” minho obnoxiously pops the P. “plus, things have already been ordered and organised for it. we already have a few people who confirmed they're attending.”

“who?”

“mhm–” minho puts down his chopsticks and thinks, looking at the ceiling as he does. “felix from fashion design. hyunjin from art. seungmin from business studies and jeongin who is also from fashion design.”

“how do you know all these people?”

“well, unlike some–” minho's eyes widen as he looks at jisung, indicating he's talking about him in particular “–some of us actually get out. plus, chan is like a social butterfly and changbin is charismatic. put them two together and well, people can't say no.”

“yeah, true. i remember when they begged me to work on a track or something for their music assignment.” 

“they both practically dragged you to do it.” minho laughs.

“only because you told them i said yes without me knowing about the situation!”

“because i knew you'd say no! you have a talent for this stuff, jisung. don't let it go to waste.”

“thanks.” he mumbles, hanging his head low in embarrassment and awkwardness.

“is that… is that a blush i see?!” minho smirks.

“me? blush? for you?! hell no!” jisung frowns. “the ramen is spicy, that's all.”

“dude… it's mild.”

“...fuck you.”

“so, are you going to ask yn or nah?”

“if it gets you and everyone else off my back, then sure”

“good. make sure you do!” jisung opens and closes his hand, mimicking minho's yapping.

“yeah yeah yeah. can we stop talking about this party and eat?”

“just looking out for ya, man. i know how much you like ‘em!” 

“i know. i appreciate it, minho.” minho nods and continues eating the ramen. jisung, on the other hand, is now lost in thought.

how the hell is he going to get the courage to ask you something like that?

────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

the study sessions are slowly coming to end. you kept up with your end of the deal, providing jisung with an endless amount of coffees and cheesecakes whilst he has provided you with an endless amount of insights.

one thing you have learnt about him is that he is smart. he knows how to do things with just a quick glance. he's good at explaining things so it's not confusing. 

you've been stuck on a problem for some time and no amount of teachers advice and youtube videos helped you. all it took was five minutes of jisung explaining the solution and it clicked.

today, however, you are alone in the library. jisung messaged you to let you know that he wasn't going to make it. you felt sad and a little heartbroken–you’ve become so accustomed to jisung's presence that you feel a little cold and lonely right now.

you can't concentrate. the music you're blasting down your ears isn't helping either. the text in your book is slowly starting to merge into one big splooge of text. the information just isn't getting through to you and it's frustrating.

you sit back in your seat and sigh as you take your headphones off and throw them on the table. 

“this is pointless.” you mumble. “i can't concentrate. maybe i should just skip it.”

you take your phone and browse through social media before subconsciously opening up the food app. your mouth salivates as you look at the various burgers, fries, pizza and sweet treats–and then your stomach growls.

“maybe i’m just hungry. that's why i can't concentrate.” you pack your things and head to the university cafeteria. the menu looks dull so you settle on a simple sandwich and drink.

the cafeteria is packed. the atmosphere is buzzing with the endless chatter of students. you take your seat and pick up your sandwich.

it's a standard ham salad sandwich with some dressing on. the slices of ham and lettuce (too much lettuce for that matter), tomatoes and other salad stuff squished together by two slices of thick, white bread, smothered in dressing.

you take a few bites. it's ok. it's not bad but you've had better. the bread is a little dry for your liking but the dressing takes that away. you open the cap of your bottled drink and take a few swigs to help wash it down.

“what do we have here?” you turn your head in the direction of the voice–that thick aussie accent you know all too well.

“ew. go away chan. you're disturbing my peace.” 

“charming. don't think that's something you should say to someone you haven't seen in a while.” he says with a pout as he walks to your table and sits down. he's joined by another man, a friend of his, perhaps. he sits opposite you.

“and whose fault is that, huh? maybe if you answered my calls or texts every once in a while.”

“sorry, yn. i’m just a busy man, y’know.” chan grins as he leans back in his seat, brimming with confidence.

“yeah. too busy being the campus whore.”

“blah blah blah. least i’m getting some.” he elbows you in the side a few times. “what are you getting, huh?” he jests.

“a degree? y'know that thing i came here for in the first place.”

“oh ha ha. very funny, yn.” chan mocks, rolling his eyes at you before stealing your sandwich and taking a bite.

the male opposite you clears his throat as a way of telling you both “hi, i’m still here.”

“oh! yn, this is minho. minho, yn.” minho's eyes widen a little and his lips twitch into a small smile.

“so, you're yn. nice to put a face to the name.“ he grins.

“you know me?” you blink a few times in confusion.

“i’m jisung’s roommate.” you mentally slap yourself. of course!

“oh my god. i’m so sorry. i didn't realise! i’m so bad with names.” you whine. minho laughs and brushes it off.

“and how do you know jisung, yn?” chan says with a mouthful of food; your food to be exact. you glare at him, daggers darting out of your eyes and straight into chan as you snatch your sandwich back off him.

“jisung’s my private tutor as of right now.”

“oh.” chan nods before his eyes suddenly light up. he looks at minho for confirmation. “wait, hold up.”

minho nods and smirks. “nah. really?!” you watch the two men talk in code as they communicate by facial expressions and a stings of “ohs” and “yeahs”

“uh, hello. i’m still here!” minho laughs softly.

“sorry, yn.” you shrug it off and eat your sandwich. “how do you two know each other by the way. chan has never mentioned you before.”

“good. keep it that way.” you say coldly, mainly aiming it at chan. chan pouts and nuzzles into you, head on shoulder. he looks at you with puppy eyes and a pout.

“aww. don't be like that, bestie. you secretly love me.” you flick his forehead.

“me and chan are childhood friends. haven't been able to get rid of him since.” chan smiles at your sweet implication. “he's like a parasite. or a fruit fly in the summer.” his smile drops and now, it's your turn to give chan a big, sarcastic grin–teeth and all.

“rude.” he mumbles. you shrug and finish off your sandwich. 

“so, jisung is your tutor.” minho speaks. you nod.  “are you attending his party?” 

“party? what party?” you look at chan and minho. minho sighs a little and runs his fingers through his hair.

“i warned him.” he mumbles under his breath in irritation before looking at you and smiling softly. “me, chan and a few others are organising a birthday party for jisung.”

“his birthday is coming up?!” your eyes widen. “when? i should get him a gift”

“14th.”

“14th?! that's pretty soon.” you mumble.

“jisung told me he would invite you.” you shake your head no. minho rubs the back of his neck. “well, this is awkward.” 

“it’s ok. maybe he has his reasons as to why he didn't mention it to me. no biggie.” you say with a smile. minho nods before a few minutes of silence dawn upon the three of you.

“out of curiosity.” you break the silence. “how is jisung in general?” minho tilts his head to the side. “it's just he seems so….” you think for a second, thinking of the right (and nice) word to use “... cold towards me.”

“cold?” 

“mhm. he seems so bitter towards me and i don't know why. we barely even talked in class but when we did, he would always tell me i’m making too much noise and to hush.” you slowly start to feel slightly irritated. 

“jisung is fine with me.” he says with a. shrug. “he's pretty chill around me.” you huff.

“i know he can be friendly because whenever i see him in the corridors talking to someone, he smiles and is so friendly!”

“what’s he likes now, yn?”

“well, now that we've been spending more time with each other, he's… i don't know… avoiding me to some degree? he won't make eye contact with me. he doesn't like it when i touch him.”

chan raises his brow and looks at minho, both men thinking the same thing. chan puts you in a gentle headlock and ruffles your hair.

“hey!! get off me!!” you push chan a few times, using all your strength to make him release you.

“you're pretty naive, yn.” chan laughs, continuing to ruffle your hair. he ignores your screams and yells, minho laughing at the two of you.

finally, chan let's you go. you push him with all the strength you have left before fixing your hair and glaring at him. chan pouts and nuzzles into you once again.

“i’m sorry, yn. forgive me?” he puckers his lips and makes kissing noises, edging closer and closer to you. you hold him at arm's length.

“ok ok!! just quit doing that!!” chan laughs and pats your head gently.

as fast as he was in the cafeteria, jisung is soon out of it after seeing you and chan, with nothing but festering jealousy in his stomach.

────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

you bounce through the library to your designated spot at the very back, coffee and cheesecake in each hand with your bag swinging on your shoulder.

jisung is there, punctual, as always. but something seems a little off. the air around him seems thick and suffocating–dark even. 

“hey!” your cheerful voice ringing in his ears, making his heart beat fast. you sit next to him and slide over the coffee and cheesecake.

today he's dressed in a yellow and orange flannel shirt and white tank-top. black jeans and boots to accommodate. a few of his nails are painted in black, chipping from wear and tear.

he gives you a cold nod of the head. you frown a little but choose to ignore it as you take your books and pens out of your bag.

“so, what's the plan for today?” jisung shrugs. “...ok, well how about we go over that question i was struggling with?”

“k” he reluctantly moves closer to you. the scent of cinnamon and vanilla wafts towards you and tickles your nostrils, making you let out a small hum of satisfaction.

“you smell good, jisung.”

“mhm, thanks.” you let out a silent sigh. something is wrong with him and you don't know why. is it something you've done? something you haven't done? 

jisung is being very dry and sour with you. his usual method of teaching you is that he would go into detail and repeat until you'd understand it, today, however, he's very short and sharp.

“i don't understand.” you say. jisung sighs, a long irritated sigh. you bite your lip, thinking that you've done something to hurt him in any possible way.

“what don't you get?”

“all of it…” he sighs again and rubs his face. his eyebrows furrow together in irritation. the jealousy he is feeling in his stomach is festering, becoming more and more intense.

every time he looks at you, he is reminded of the way you and chan were together. he hates that. how could you fall for someone like chan? he thought you were better than that. his head swimming with negative and harsh thoughts.

before he can stop himself, the words just spill without any control. “why don't you get chan to do it for you.”

you blink. “chan? what does he have to do with this?”

“i mean, you two are close are you not?”

“i mean.. well, yeah, i guess.” you shrug. “he does get on my nerves sometimes though. he is such a pain! but he's a good gu–”

“i thought you were better than that, yn.’ he spits.

“the fuck is that supposed to mean?” you feel the bubbling of rage in your stomach as you stare at jisung, who stares at you back. the jealousy has consumed his body and it's too late to back out now.

“as in, i thought you had standards. chan? of all people? he's a whore, yn. everyone knows that he sleeps around on campus and you chose him?!”

“i don't appreciate the way you're talking about him, jisung.”

“it’s the truth, yn! and you know it so why are you with him?! you can do sooo much better than him!!”

“oh yeah?” you challenge. “then who is good for me, mhm? please, enlighten me?” 

jisung freezes. he looks away and chews his bottom lip. you scoff and pack your things in a hurry.

“i don't have to listen to this bullshit. you've been in a shit mood with me this whole time, which is fine. everyone has bad days. what's not ok, however, is you taking it out on me and bad mouthing the people i care about.” you stand up, swinging your bag onto your shoulder. jisung stares at one spot of the desk, burning holes into it. “text me when you're in a better mood.”

you walk out, leaving jisung to think about what he has just done.

────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

“jisunggggg. sungieeee. knock, knock. let me innn!” the sound of minho's high-pitched, cheery voice irritates jisung to the bone. he lets out a slow and irritated groan, hot puffs of air slowly exhaling from his nostrils.

he pushes his glasses up his nose and runs his fingers through his unwashed hair. sitting at his desk in the same baggy band t-shirt and sweats from a few days ago, he checks his phone for the nth time, only to be disappointed.

he hasn't spoken to you nor seen you since that day. in class, it's worse. he's tried to catch your eye a few times, smiling when he does, only for you to turn away. he spent days loathing in his own self pity, locking himself up in his room and only coming out for food, bathroom breaks and class.

minho has had enough. not only is jisung's mood ruining the atmosphere, but minho has no idea as to what happened that day. he was home when jisung came back to the dorm, looking like he was on the verge of tears. 

when he asked, jisung always gave the same answer of “mind your own business.”–and he has; for several days now.

“let me in, jisung.” the repetitive sounds of minho's knuckles against the wood door cause jisung's stomach to bubble more intensely with anger–until he finally snaps.

he rushes to the door and swings it open, brows furrowed together. minho's smug grin makes him foam at the mouth.

“what part of leave me alone don't you understand, minho?” jisung's words dripping with poison. minho shrugs it off.

“all of it.” he pushes past jisung, making himself at home in his bedroom. jisung has no time to protest, all he can do is watch his best friend jump on his bed and rest on his back, arms behind his head.

with a heavy sigh, jisung walks back to his desk. he turns his back on him, hoping that if he ignores his friend, he will get bored and eventually leave. minho watches his friend pick up and put down his phone several times to the point where minho feels irritated by it.

“so?” minho starts

“so?” jisung repeats

“going to tell me what's happened? haven't seen you this down in a while.”

“nope. i'm good.”

“you can't keep moping around the place, jisung.”

“i can and i will.” minho groans and stands up, walking out of the bedroom. jisung mentally cheers only for it to be cut short when minho throws his jacket at jisung.

“put it on.” it's more of a demand than a sentence, but nonetheless, jisung obliges because if he doesn't, minho will force it on him.

“where are we going?”

“to the cafe.” minho puts on his shoes, jisung following suit.

“aah, dude.. i don't really fe–”

“shut up, we're going to the cafe whether you want to or not. a change of scenery might cheer your moody ass up because, to be quite honest, i’m tired of seeing your gloomy ass face.” he looks at jisung who is frowning at him. “in the nicest way possible, of course.”

jisung rolls his eyes before following minho to the local (and one of his favourite) cafes. 

it's a small, local café with an old fashioned sense of style to it. the tables and chairs are worn. cushions on the chairs losing their stuffing and the tables scratched and chipped. the décor is outdated, indicating that the café has been there for quite a few years; but it feels like home to some.

the bell above the door chimes as minho and jisung walk in. they walk to the counter and say their orders before taking their lunch and drinks and sitting at a table.

jisung takes a sip of the coffee. he feels the ice cold beverage trickling down his esophagus and into his empty stomach. minho munches on his chicken salad sandwich, watching his friend look in his drink and ponder.

“i fucked up.” jisung mumbles, lost in thought. the more he thinks about you, the more he can feel the tears threaten to spill down his cheeks. minho tilts his head to the side and as he is about to open his mouth and encourage his friend to continue, a familiar sound in the form of a laugh causes jisung's head to shoot up and look in that direction.

his eyes widen. he feels relief and happy to see a smile finally on your face; but then that same, the green monster in the form of jealousy parks itself on his shoulder and starts whispering in his ear.

minho watches jisung's jaw muscles clench. his facial expression goes from relief to jealousy. minho follows jisung's gaze and raises his brow at the sight of you and chan.

chan is being his usual, goofy self. he's telling you typical dad jokes and being a little grotest by telling you his latest hook-up details. you push him by the arm and roll your eyes, sipping your coffee in the process. chan continues to joke around with you, play fighting a little by wrapping his arm around the back of your neck loosely and rubbing the top of your head with his knuckles.

“i can't fucking stand this.” jisung mutters bitterly under his breath. minho turns and looks at his friend who is green with jealousy.

“stand what?”

“seeing someone as precious and innocent as yn be with someone like chan!” minho blinks a few times.

“what do you… jisung, what do you think yn and chans relationship is?”

“isnt it obvious? they're going out!” minho gives jisung a few blank stares and blinks before bursting out into laughter, choking on his own saliva in the process. “what?!” 

jisungs cheeks flush red with embarrassment but also with anger. his own friend laughing at his statement, finding amusement in his sorrows.

“are you serious? please tell me you're joking?” minho stutters through his giggles.

“dead serious.” jisung says, deadpan. “don't you see the way they are with each other? i saw you all the other day, in the cafeteria! chan's arm around yn and them being all…. lovey!!” 

“oh my god.” minho calms himself down. “you really are serious!”

“i told you! i even asked yn about it and well… it didn't go so well.”

“is that why you've been so moody and upset lately?” jisung nods his head slowly, feeling some type of guilt. minho sighs heavily, wondering how he can soften the blow of the news he's about to give his best friend.

“jisung…” minho starts. “yn and chan are not dating.” jisung's face drops.

“excuse me?”

“they're not dating. they're just childhood best friends. apparently they've known each other since they were kids. “

“so you're telling me.. that i got it all wrong when i saw you three in the cafeteria?“ minho slowly nods whilst giving a sympathetic smile. jisung sits back in his seat in disbelief. “why did chan never mention yn?! fuck, i fucked up… i really, really fucked up…” 

“oh, c’mon. it can't be that bad.” minho tries to lighten the situation.

“dude. i told her i thought she had standards! i called her best friend a whore!”

“i mean, chan is a whore. he knows he is and he doesn't hid–”

“dude, please.” jisung interrupts. “not right now.” minho shrugs and sips his coffee whilst jisung rubs his face whilst groaning. “what do i do?”

“well.” minho puts down his coffee. “you make it right. admit you were in the wrong. explain how you were a jealous lil guy because you like her and that you fucked up.”

“and how do i do that? she’s been avoiding me for weeks and it’s not like i can go up to her right now and be like oh hey yn, sorry i called your best friend a whore oh, by the way, i like you.” jisung mocks himself in a high pitched voice, his face turning red in frustration.

“you're so dramatic.” minho rolls his eyes with a soft, yet heavy sigh. “for a smart guy, you're pretty dumb too.”

“pft, am not!” jisung scoffs and folds his arms across his chest. “... only when it comes to stuff like this.” he mumbles. “i just… don't know what to do or how to fix it. i really, really like her, minho.”

“ok? and? what do you want me to do about it? there's no point telling me about your feelings for yn. i'm not the one that fucked up and then decided to hold myself up in my room to drown in my own self-pity.” minho says with a shrug.

to the outside world, minho's words sound harsh but to jisung, it's a reality check. 

he sighs softly for the nth time as he glances over at you. he watches you laugh and smile with chan, soaking in your beauty and the way you glow with happiness. 

“to make it easier for you.” minho breaks the few seconds of silence between the two, feeling a little responsible for his friend in need. “i may have mentioned your birthday party to yn.”

“what?! why?”

“bro, you weren't going to mention it! so i just.. did you a favour.” minho shrugs, a smug look on his face.

“... is she coming?”

minho shrugs. “dunno. she seemed interested at least but this was before you called her best friend a whore so–”

“that was an accident. i didn't mean to.. i just got too–”

“worked up? jealous perhaps?” minho says, or rather states, with a raised brow. jisung hums and nods his head slowly, teeth chewing on his bottom lip. 

minho chews on his straw as he watches his friend think. he can see the cogs turning in jisung's skull. jisung is inexperienced when it comes to relationships so seeing him like this, brings minho slight amusement.

“look, jisung. if she turns up, you approach her and apologise whilst also telling her how you feel.” minho holds his hand up to jisung who is just about to protest but is quick to close his mouth and listen. “if she doesn't turn up, you find her the next day, apologise and tell her how you feel. heck, text her if you have to!”

“dude… you know i can't do that!”

“ok. then you have the other option, which is to keep wallowing in your self pity and watch yn from the sidelines.” minho shrugs. “i don't know dude. be the main character for once. you clearly like her so take the chance.”

────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

jisung's birthday rolled around. you haven't heard nor spoken to him since the argument so you didn't originally plan on turning up to his birthday party; but chan being chan is forcing you to go as his plus one.

“is this ok?” you smooth down your party outfit as you present yourself to chan. chan is sitting at your dressing table, dressed in blue, skinny jeans, a compression shirt that hugs and molds his muscles and combat boots. a silver chain around his neck, earrings in one ear and a few rings on his fingers.

he looks up from his phone and smirks playfully. he wolf whistles at you to which you scoff and roll your eyes at.

“looking good there, yn.”

“really? i threw this together at the last minute.’

“you look great, don't worry. you're gonna knock ‘em dead.” chan laughs.

“i really don't want to go, chan.” you groan.

“weeeell, too late. you're coming with me to this party, even if i have to throw you over my shoulder and carry you there.”

chan has heard about your little argument with jisung from minho. the two of them had a drink together during the week and chan listened to minho vent about jisung.

once minho mentioned the fight did it all come together. you've been feeling down and withdrawn, not knowing what to do or how to deal with your feelings. you've put on a fake smile and basically faked your way through the weeks–but chan has known you for years so he can see through you, he just didn't want to press you.

you'll come to him when the time is right; you always do.

“do i have to?” you ask for the nth time whilst putting on your shoes. chan laughs at your contradicting actions and shakes his head before standing up.

“yes, you do. it'll be fun and hopefully, it'll lift your spirits.” you pout.

“i have been a little moody lately, haven't i?” chan raises his brows and scoffs.

“a little!? pur-lease! i thought knives were going to spawn out of your eyes at one point.”

“mhm.. i’m sorry chan. it's just been a long couple of weeks with a lot of thinking.” you sigh softly. chan elbows your side gently.

“hey. let's not think about that right now. let's go to this party, have a couple of drinks and a dance, yeah?” you nod slowly.

“not like i have a say in this.”

“that's my girl. now.” chan grabs your hand gently and pulls you to the front door. “let's go have some fuuuun!!!”

────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──

it's loud. the bass of the music rings in your ears and shakes the ground beneath you.

it smells. the stench of stale cigarettes, sweat and alcohol tickles your nostrils and causes you to feel lightheaded and nauseous.

you've tried several times to turn away and head back but chan was always right there.

chan abandoned you to go chat up some girls so you're sat on the sofa, surrounded by people making out, drinking or passing out (if they haven't already)

you hold your red, plastic solo cup which is filled halfway with some punch. the smell is pungent and the taste is awful. it's too strong for your liking so you take small, delicate sips.

as the night rolls on, you have yet to see jisung. not that you want to but, it would help you feel some comfort and less suffocated to see a familiar face.

you glance at your phone screen. 11:20 pm. it's soon time for you to leave. you don't want to be here any longer than you have to and considering that chan has left you alone, you don't feel the need to be here any more.

you stand up from the couch to walk to the kitchen. you shimmy your way in and out of crowds of people who are dancing, talking or making out with someone that they won't remember tomorrow.

you pour your drink down the sink and throw away your empty cup. as you're about to turn and leave, a familiar voice is heard from behind.

“yn. hi.”

you turn on your heels and a sense of relief washes over you as you come face to face with a face you've been longing to see (even if you don't want to admit it)

you forget why you're so angry at him for a split second. his beauty never fails to make you feel star struck and silently go “wow.” but then you remember.

“hi.” you reply coldly.

“can i talk to you?” he shouts, hoping his voice isn't drowned out by the music.

“not right now. i was just about to leave.” you walk past him to leave. jisung grabs your arm gently to stop you. you look at him and he is quick to remove his hand.

“please? just… let me explain…” he chews his bottom lip, his brows scrunched together in the middle. you think for a second and sigh softly, nodding slowly.

“ok. fine. but make it quick.” you swear you see the corner of jisung's lips curl into a subtle smile, his eyes lighting up a little. he beckons you to follow him so you do.

you follow him outside. compared to inside, where it's hot and humid, the harsh, cold night air is refreshing and soothes your damp skin.

“look.” he starts as he stops walking to turn to you. “i know i was a complete asshole.” you scoff but don't say anything. “it's just… aah fuck, how do i say this.”

you watch jisung slowly become flustered. the tips of his ears turn red, his hands clammy as he shakes a little. he shuffles on his feet to shift his weight and avoids eye contact with you.

“fuck.. this is so hard… minho said it'd be easy once i get talking but fuck minho.” jisung rambles to himself. the anger you felt slowly disappears and is replaced with… joy? 

your stomach feels a little bubbly and tingly with excitement as you watch this nerd, whom you've grown so accustomed to, become easily flustered and shy because of you.

“just say what's on your mind, jisung.” you say with a shrug. his eyes flicker at you for a second before looking to the ground.

“ok.. well…” he takes a deep breath. ”i like you and i always have and the reason why i got so pissed and called chan a whore, who i later found out was your childhood best friend, was because i was jealous of how close he was to you and i saw red and i didn't mean it. in fact, i've been cooped up in my bedroom in my own self-pity because i'm a coward and i don't deserve someone as wonderful as you and i’m really sorry. can you forgive me for being a lil silly?”

you blink at him several times. jisung dared take a breath during his little speech so all the information that has suddenly been laid on you, isn't going through your head right now.

“ah fuck.. i fucked up again, haven't i?” jisung shakes, his voice wavering as it breaks the tension in the air. his nerves shaking his body as a shaky hand picks at the skin around his fingernails. “god i knew i shouldn't have said anything. why did i take minho's dumb advice.”

“i… i don't know what to say, jisung. it's all so much.” you say in pure shock.

“oh, that's ok! i’m not looking for an answer right now. please, take your time. i just wanted you to know my true feelings and why i acted out. the last thing i want is for you to feel forced.”

“so let me get this straight. the reason you acted out is because you got jealous of chan, thinking that we were dating?” you watch jisung slowly nod his head, his cheeks turning pink; whether that's from embarrassment or from the harsh cold air. “and that you.. like me?”

jisung nods again. “silly, right?” he laughs, trying to soothe himself of the raging anxiety that's heavy in his heart and stomach.

“no.. no! not at all. i think it's kinda… cute.” 

“cute?”

“yeah. i mean, well, being away from you has got me thinking about me, you and well.. us and how i feel.” jisung walks closer to you, closing the gap between you both.

“and how do you feel, yn?” you swallow a little. the atmosphere has suddenly shifted between you both. jisung is close to you, his body daring to press against you.

you can see every detail of his honey skin under the faint moonlight. the cold breeze sweeps between his hair strands. a faint hint of cinnamon and apple from his aftershave tickles and hugs your nose making you inhale deeply for more.

“at first, i was angry at you. i didn't understand why you were so angry. but i spoke to chan about it and during the conversation, he made me realise something.”

“what?” jisung encourages. he gingerly places his hands on your waist, unsure and testing the waters. his touch is as light as a feather and when you don't push him away, his grip becomes firm. 

“that maybe, i like you too and i have for the longest time. i just never realised it because i thought you hated me but, when we spent all that time together, i started to notice the smallest of things about you and i found them to be so cute. but they're cute because it's you.” 

you slowly run your hands up his chest to his shoulder. his breath hitches and body trembles from your touch. with more confidence, jisung pulls your body flush against his own, closing the gap completely.

“so, you like me too?” his voice dips to a whisper. you hum and nod slowly. “do you have any idea how happy that makes me?”

“why don't you show me.” you whisper against his lips, teasing him by brushing yours against his slowly and gently. they feel soft and plump, kissable even. 

“you're playing a dangerous game, yn. you have no idea how long i've wanted you.”

“show me.” you whisper again, furthering your teasing by ever so lightly licking his bottom lip with the tip of your tongue.

“fuck.” jisung groans. his lips crash against yours in a heated kiss that's filled with longing. your eyes widen a little but are quick to flutter close. you melt into the kiss, the both of you becoming synchronised instantly.

you tilt your head to the side a little to allow jisung to deepen the kiss. he licks your bottom lip and you part your lips slowly.

his tongue slides in to meet yours and you're in a battle of dominance that you lose. jisung's hot kisses make you melt and crave for more. you forget about your surroundings, forget where you are. everything is a buzz in your ears and you can only focus on you, jisung and how your body is tingling and twitching.

jisung is the first to pull away. he pants heavily, his own body trembling with excitement. 

“wow.” you hum in agreement. as soon as his lips are off yours, you want them back on you again; whether that's on your own lips or on your body, you don't care as long as you get to feel the softness again.

“is this real?” he asks.

“it's real.” you respond, giggling softly. “and i’m not drunk either so.”

“so, what does this make us?” jisung cautiously asks. he wants to have an idea of what you two are slowly becoming. he wants to make sure you're both on the same page.

“whatever you want us to be, jisung.”

“well, i want you to be mine. i want to show you off to the world, proudly. i want everyone to know that you belong to me. i want to spend every single second of the day with you and during the night, i want to spend every single second caressing your body from head to toe. i want to soak myself in every single bit of detail from your body. i want to drown you in pleasure and my love.” 

you swallow and let out a small, shaky breath at the implications behind his words. your body trembles with excitement and anticipation from where tonight is going to end and for the future with jisung.

“then.. shall we go ditch the party and go back to mine? because i want that too.” with a fast nod of the head, jisung holds your hand and is quick to make way to yours.

“let's go and let's be quick. i want to make you mine, in more ways than one.”

[wonderjanga]

I’m a Big Fan!

Billy and Mary are both big fans of Bulletman and Bulletgirl. They even had action figures of them. This affected their interactions with the couple when they were in their Marvel forms.

Marvel: “It’s a pleasure to be working with you, Mister Bulletman Sir.” *shakes his hand*

Bulletman: *literally feeling like his arm is being nearly jostled out of its socket* “You too.”

So, yeah. Bulletman’s first impression of Captain Marvel was that the man was sort of overexcited. He honestly thought the man was pulling his leg.

Marvel: “I used to have your action figures when I was a kid.”

Bulletman: “You… did?” *thought they were the same age*

Okay, the other man was younger than himself. Bulletman would’ve thought the Captain had aged poorly if the man hadn’t looked so good.

Meanwhile, Mary is chilling with Bulletgirl because she can get away with it because she looks fourteen.

Mary: “Can I please have your autograph, Miss Bulletgirl Ma’am?” *holding out a piece of paper and a marker she magicked from somewhere*

Bulletgirl: “Of course!” *signs it with a smile*

Marvel: *longingly looking over, wanting an autograph too*

Bulletman: *narrows his eyes, wondering why Marvel’s looking at his wife like that*

Mary: *sees this look* “Can I have another one? Addressed to someone named Billy?” *magics another paper up*

Bulletgirl: “Sure.” *signs the next paper*

Billy gave her the biggest hug when she walked over to them.

Mary: “Cap, I got the auto- ACK-”

Marvel: *hugging the life out of her*

Bulletman: *watching in concern as she pats his back a bunch of times*

Mary: *using the pats to try and to signal he’s crushing her*

Now Bulletman is wondering if he has separation anxiety from his kid. She is his kid, right? Also he’s very concerned about Marvel looking at his wife like that. He didn’t know if he should be relieved or even more concerned when the man showed more interest in being around him. But then… The edits came. Edits of them. Together. They haunt his dreams. He wasn’t even sure Cap was aware of them. Speaking of Cap, he had built up a steady friendship with the man. He was actually a pretty chill guy if Bulletman ignored the times the man’s inner fanboy would rev up.

Bulletman and Marvel: *working together to fight a villain*

Marvel: “Gosh, this is just like-” *rattles off a random obscure fight that happened before Bulletman was well recognized*

Bulletman: *gets distracted* “How do you know that?”

Marvel: “Cause-”

Bulletman: *gets launched off into a wall because he was distracted*

Marvel: *i fucked up face*

So yeah. Cap can get caught up in it, but hey, the man’s still nice. Bulletman invited him to a barbecue. Cap brought his kids. Bulletman still doesn’t know if they’re actually his kids or not.

[after-witch]

The Glass House [Yandere Mahito x Reader]

Title: The Glass House [Yandere Mahito x Reader]

Synopsis: You get your period and Mahito wants to run a few tests.

Word count: 3465

notes: yandere, consensual relationship, reader is on their period, mentions of other people's torture and death, humiliation relating to period, Mahito being Mahito is his own warning

It’s not often that Mahito bothers with your bathroom. Only, in the past, when you’ve been in it--naked and wet and usually mid-shower, as he apparently finds it entertaining to see what noises you make each time he surprises you. 

(Once, after comparing him to the killer in Psycho, he’d demanded to then watch the film. ‘But I didn’t stab you and you didn’t bleed chocolate syrup,’ he’d said, simply, after the scene in question.)

Today, though, he’s decided that there must be something interesting in there, because he’s spent the better part of 5 minutes rummaging--you can hear the sound of items being moved--in the closet and, judging by the sound of rustling, he’s now fiddling with the trash can.

“Hey,” he says, finally sauntering out of the bathroom. When you turn to greet him, a sarcastic remark about having fun digging through the trash on your lips, your heart stutters. 

In return, Mahito simply blinks at you.

“What’s this?” He asks, dangling one of your used pads from his hand.

The smear of dried blood in the center of the white pad feels accusatory, out of its proper context in the trash can. A bit of toilet paper sticks to the end of it, remnants of the ball you created to cover up your mess. 

“Oh fuck,” you say, reflexively. “Put that down! That’s--it’s--”

“It’s blood,” he says, giving the pad a sniff. “Smells funny though. Why’s it in your bathroom? Why’s it on this thing? When did you get hurt? Why were you hiding it in the trash?” The questions come simply, nearly rapid-fire. He probably says them as he thinks them.

Your cheeks burn something awful by the end of his questions, and your answer comes out half-stuttered. “It’s--I didn’t get hurt. I’m on my period.” 

One of his fingers is stuck to the bottom of the pad, and he peels it off deftly, holding it closer as you wish you could snatch it from his hands and forget this ever happened.

“Oh,” is what he says, eventually, with a quiet hint of curiosity. “I guess I’m lucky then. I’ve been wanting to study human menstruation for a while now.”

The word study sticks to your chest, but you aren’t able to peel it away so easily. You don’t want him to study you; don’t want to be under his scrutiny in such an obvious way. It’s easier to pretend he knows about people, about humanity, when you’re firmly playing at something closer to a normal relationship.

As if anything about this was normal. 

“Can’t you study one of your… experiments?” 

Experiments. Oh, what a simple, inoffensive word for what they really are--you shake that thought away as easily as a mosquito, though it never truly leaves the room. 

At this, Mahito’s eyebrows raise, and the edge of a smile tickles his lips. 

“Oh,” he coos. “That’s awfully selfish to say, even for you.”

He closes the distance between the two of you now, and you don’t bother resisting when he gives your chest a poke--thankfully with the hand not currently holding your used pad--and encourages you to sit back down on the sofa.

“I want to see.” Simple and clear, like most of the things he says to you. His directness with you is something that does make him stand apart from most people. If he wanted attention, he told you so; if he wanted to be left alone, the same. There weren’t mind games with him or--or hell, if there were mind games, you were too stupid to notice them and that was just fine with you, because the alternatives of your past relationships had been far worse. 

“Why?” You ask, if only to delay the inevitable.

Mahito shakes the pad on his hand, smiling a little at the way it sticks, before he peels it off and sets it on the coffee table. He sighs. “Movies never show it. They always show the woman eating ice cream or screaming at her boyfriend or cuddling with pillows, but they never show what’s actually happening down there.”

You squirm without moving.

“It’s just blood.” Your tone stays flat, uninterested. If he thinks it’s boring, he might move on. “Nothing special about that.”

Mahito’s smile reminds you of an eel. 

“Then show me.” 

It’s not a request that you can parry off, so you don’t bother; instead, you spread your legs, pulling up your skirt so that Mahito won’t do it himself. You might just lose the garment entirely, if it was left up to him.

Mahito claps, then crouches down in front of you, getting far too close to your pad-clad underwear for comfort. He takes a sniff and you’d like to die on the spot.

He gives the pad a poke. 

“Why do you put this in there? What’s it called again?”

You close your legs a little--instinct--and he holds them open for you. It’s easier that way, you think. Easier when he takes control and you don’t have to fight your instincts. 

“It’s a pad,” you force out. “I put it there to absorb the blood.”

He tilts his head. “Why?”

Your nose wrinkles at the question. “So it doesn’t get on my clothes or everything I sit on.” A ghost of a memory pushes through your brain--blood stains on school bus seats and church pews--and you force it down.

Mahito tilts his head, and you think he’s about to ask what you’re thinking about, but instead he sighs and rests his head against the edge of your thigh.

“Humans are so squeamish.” His fingers reach up and climb up your leg, dancing on your inner thighs, towards the pad. You twitch--it tickles--and he smiles. “Does everyone use pads?” 

“No,” you say, as he grips the top of your underwear and begins to slide them down. You do move, now, but not to oppose him. It would be pointless. Instead you hike yourself up a little, so that your bare privates aren’t touching the couch. “Some people use tampons,” you finish, as if you’re not sitting here, hunched on your sofa, while a curse pulls down your underwear to get a look at what’s underneath.

Mahito glances up at you. He wants you to elaborate.

“A tampon is like a cotton stick, I guess? You put it up--there--and it absorbs like a pad. But from the inside.”

“Oh!” The edge of Mahito’s fingers play with the pad on your underwear. “I guess some of my experiments have been on their period, then. I wondered what those were.” He pouts, just a bit. “Maybe that’s why some of my experiments haven’t been working out right. I wasn’t taking menstruation into account.”

The thought has your stomach roiling. But you don’t want to talk about it. Don’t want to think about it--what Mahito does, when he’s not here, and how what he does is just as much a part of him as the moments when he’s snuggling with you in your apartment or fucking you into your mattress.

When you look back at him, he’s grinning.

“You’re squeamish, too. About my work.” He presses a kiss to the inside of your knee. “Don’t worry. It’s cute on you.”

With that, he gives up all pretense, and peels the pad away from your underwear in one swift motion.

“What are you doing?” You ask, even though you know the answer.

“Keeping it.” He sets it next to the already used pad. In contrast, the pad he’s just peeled away still has mostly brighter red blood on it, rather than the dull, brown old blood from the bathroom trash can. “I want to see how long it takes for you to bleed through your underwear. And some more things,” he adds, casually.

Oh, you think. This is too far, too weird. It’s puncturing the bubble you’ve created around you and Mahito in a way you don’t like.

“Mahito, I am not--”

In an instant, his eyes are on you. It’s a look that says, “You are,” and your lips feel like they clamp shut without hesitation. Something low climbs into your stomach and takes root there. When your shoulders slump, defeated, he pats your knee in appreciation.

“We’ll have a slumber party this week,” he tells you, voice getting more giddy as he goes on. “For three days? Four? However long you bleed.” He stands up and begins to survey your apartment, but for what you don’t yet know. “I can get a lot of experiments done in four days.” 

You don’t have the heart--or the stomach--to deny him.

--

When you were thirteen, you once got your period in the middle of class. You didn’t know it until you leaned forward in your desk to get a closer look at what the teacher wrote on the blackboard--your needed glasses at the time, and didn’t yet know it--and one of the boys behind you let out a distinct tween boy guffaw, snickering just loud enough for everyone to hear: “Dude, that’s fucking nasty.”

And then you’d felt it--wetness clinging to the inside of your black pants. And you’d scooted back, looked between your legs, and there it was: a smear of red on the dull grey chair. 

You were too embarrassed to do anything but sit back down, cheeks so hot that you began to sweat, and listened as everyone behind you began murmuring about your period. You had wanted to die for almost two weeks, and for the rest of your school career, you wore a sweater around your waist just in case you started without warning. 

That incident, as life-defining as it had been, was not as embarrassing as what you’re going through right now.

“Mahito,” you mumble, voice thick from your tightened throat. “Is this really necessary?”

Mahito, seated at a folding table he’s hauled into the living room, glances up at you. You, naked as the day you were born and perched awkwardly on top of a porcelain bowl that Mahito had shoved underneath you.

“Which part? The bowl or you being naked?”

“Both,” you blurt helplessly.

Mahito smiles. It’s such a pretty, awful little smile. “The bowl is,” he admits. His eyes leer over your body, awkward as it must look right now. “I just like to look at you.”

God help you, you feel flattered; the warm flush in your skin tingles with the new emotion. Mahito’s praises never failed to make you feel like that, even in the midst of something like this.

Mahito abandons the table and squats in front of the sofa, peering in between your spread thighs at the bowl underneath. You squirm, and he smacks the inside of your thigh sharply. You stop moving.

“I thought it would come out faster.” His tone is soft, low. Detached to everything but mild curiosity. Like a child studying an insect in a chair. “But it’s more… oozing than anything.”

“Don’t call it oozing,” you say. 

Before he can answer, a timer resting on the folding table dings delightfully. Mahito doesn’t waste time and yanks the bowl out from underneath you, leaving you to land flat on the sofa with your bare ass.

“’Hito!” You whine. “It’ll stain!” Thoughts of having to get the smeary blood out of your couch override the desire to keep your whining to a minimum, lest Mahito get annoyed with you. But, you think, it doesn’t matter much now. He’s not even paying attention.

Instead, he whisks the bowl over to the table and places it on the scale to weigh.

He sighs out something like disappointment. “It’s not that much blood at all, really. I don’t know why women complain about it so much in movies.”

He wasn’t paying attention to your whining earlier, but he does hear your incredulous intake of breath at his words. He glances back at you, confusion written on his face.

“What? It really isn’t. Now, when someone loses a limb, that’s real blood loss. And it spurts out, instead of oozing.” He nods, affirming his thoughts to himself. “That would be something to complain about.” 

“It’s not just the blood,” you say, half absent. Your mind drifts to when and where and how Mahito might see someone lose an arm. Did he cut it off? Or another curse? Did the blood droplets spray over his face? Did the person die right away or--

While you were lost in thought, Mahito left his post at the table and returned to crouch in front of you, now sitting flat on the sofa despite the inevitable stains. 

“Go on,” he says simply, all the while pushing your thighs apart with his hands. There’s a bit of blood smeared on the inside of your thighs and he leans forward to give it a lick. The awful feeling nesting in your stomach bristles. 

“Don’t.” 

Mahito blinks up at you. “I want to,” is all he says, before he does it again. 

The look he gives you--Will you try to stop me?--is met with you dropping your chin, just in time to see him smile. He gives another lick. “Tell me what else makes you complain when you’re on your period.”

You think about the sneering boys behind you at school, the way one of them tapped you on your shoulder and said, voice full of glorified condescension, “Aren’t you even wearing a pad? That’s nasty.” 

Instead, you rest your hands on your naked stomach and murmur out the answers Mahito wants to hear.

“Cramps.” You swallow, forcing yourself to taste the ghost of your milkshake from lunch this afternoon and not the bile that wants to come up. “From the um, uterus contracting. It can hurt really bad.” 

One of the girls in the class discretely handed you a pad, but your embarrassment had been so awful that you pretended not to see her, even when she waved it in front of you. “What a bitch,” she’d murmured to a friend afterward. 

“Back pain,” you continue, voice cracking. “And you can get tired. You want to eat but can’t… or you don’t want to eat at all, sometimes. It’s just… a lot of stuff.”

Your body jolts when Mahito puts his hands on your stomach--he wouldn’t transfigure you, he’s said that, and you remember his words well. But it doesn’t stop you from imagining.

“Is that why women get angry when they menstruate?” The mild glare you give him is met with the most innocent of expressions. “What? It’s what all the movies say. Though the man usually gets hit with something after he says it.” He smiles, as if daring you to hit him. You don’t.

Instead, you keep talking. Maybe it’s a way to ground yourself. Maybe you just want to talk to fill the space where dead, disfigured women, corpses created at Mahito’s whim, exist.

“Your hormones can fluctuate.” You smile a little at the forced nostalgia. “Sometimes I get really upset over dumb things. Especially when I was younger. One time, I sobbed because my mom said she was going to get fast food for dinner and she changed her mind.”

Mahito rests his elbows on your thighs, digging into them harshly. His hair tickles your skin, and you wonder, idly, if he’ll get your blood on the silver strands.

“Do you want to cry now?” He asks, almost sweetly. “I wouldn’t mind.”

Do you want to cry? No. You might, though, if things keep going the way they are. So you dig your teeth into your lip and shake your head.

“No. This is just… embarrassing, I guess.” To be naked. To be bleeding. To have Mahito sitting there, your blood on his tongue.

Mahito quirks his head, then scoots back to pry your thighs farther apart so he can get a better view of your bleeding privates.

“I don’t see why humans get so embarrassed about their bodies. It seems silly.” He rests his chin on his elbow for a moment, hums, then hoists himself up and returns to the table where he’s got a few used pads and the bowl still lined up. 

“Mahito?” You ask, while he’s tinkering with his findings. “Can I put my clothes on now. And a pad?”

“No,” he answers, voice light, without even looking behind him. “I need to put this inside you first.”

You do move to get up off the couch now, a pang of fear shooting through your stomach, but you stop when he turns around with a wrapped tampon held aloft. Where did he get it--the thought flickers, and turns into something more pressing: Why does he have it?

But you know the answer, don’t you?

“I don’t use tampons.” A useless thing to say, but you say it anyway.

He simply blinks at you, and crouches back down in front of you, parting your thighs like air.

“They’re uncomfortable,” you try, louder.

This time, he stops moving, and a little bit of hope flickers through you just long enough for him to furrow his eyebrows.

“But when I make my penis, it’s much bigger than this, and you don’t say it’s uncomfortable.”

Your mouth opens to answer, and your tongue sticks to the inside. It’s stupid to argue with him when he’s got his mind set on something. So you don’t.

When you don’t continue to complain, he nods, then unwraps the tampon and skims the back of the wrapper. At least he’s reading the damn instructions, you think, in the instant before he awkwardly shoves the tampon inside you--too rough and hard, and you whimper as it pinches  in an entirely awful way.

Mahito’s lips quirk. He checks the back of the wrapper again, tsks at himself, and pulls it out. This time, the insertion is less chaotic. It’s still sore, but no longer painful. Just… uncomfortable. 

“Aw.” He pats your thigh. “You did great. Let me start the timer!” He jumps up, hair swinging as he rushes to begin the timer for whatever phase of the experiment he’s on.

“Can I put some clothes on now?” Though you’re no longer hoping to avoid staining your sofa, it wouldn’t be awful to be a little less vulnerable in the moment.

Mahito taps his chin with his thumb, considering. Then he shakes his head. “I want you naked. But we can cuddle on your bed for this part, so you don’t get crabby!” 

There’s no time to voice a complaint or offense; he hoists you up, some of the blood that had smeared against your bottom rubbing off on his arm as he carries you into the bedroom. He doesn’t seem to mind; he simply plops you on the bed--fuck, your comforter--and hops on to wrap himself around you.

Silence stretches around you, even as he wraps his arms tighter and presses his nose against your neck.

“Are… we done after this?” You venture to ask, quiet and tired.

Mahito talks into your neck, cold breath--is it even breath?--ghosting your skin. “Oh, no. I have lots of things I’d like to find out this week.” You can feel his smile pressing into you. “You’re being very helpful, you know.”

“I am?”

Mahito hums against you, and sniffs your hair. His answer is so light and sweet, the contrast makes you feel a bit sick.

“Earlier, I’d considered just grabbing someone to experiment on instead, but since you’re being so sweet about everything, I figured I’d just use you instead.”

The dread in your stomach puffs up, its sodden hairs standing on end. 

“So you saved me from having to find at least one woman to test my questions on. Maybe two,” he adds, voice still light. “Doesn’t that feel nice?”

“Nice?” You ask, voice hollow.

Mahito presses a smooch to your neck. “Don’t most people feel nice when they do a good deed?”

A good deed, to stand in for women who might have otherwise died horribly. For women who would have spent their time not thinking about humiliating childhood period experiences but their families--their partners, their children, if they had them. 

A good deed to snuggle with Mahito, while miles away, someone was begging for death from underneath a mass of twisted flesh.

“I guess.” Your voice cracks, but it doesn’t bother him. You suppose a lot of things don’t bother Mahito and so often, you try not to let them bother you. 

He sighs against you, and presses his hands lightly where you’d laid them earlier to indicate your cramps. His fingers dully stroke against the spot, and you wonder what it would feel like for his fingers on you not to bring mild comfort and the growing tingle of affection--but terror and pain and fear.

You wonder, too, if Mahito ever thinks the same thing.