#junior express captain

[vineyard-edits]

Junior Express CG Icons

icons of Captain Topa from Disney's Junior Express with the agere CareGiver/Carer flag.

requested by @annoyingmantaray

[wonderjanga]

Marvel Lying

One day, Billy realizes he can just lie. To press, to the JL (only when they really ask about his identity), and to world. And the best part is that almost no one can prove him wrong, because what’s Black Adam or someone else going to do? Prove him wrong? (I kinda already talked about this but meh) Like here’s something I can see Billy maybe doing because one time and one time alone, a reporter asked and he quotes:

Reporter: “Captain, I’m sure many people are speculating, and I’m sure it’s a question asked often, but who is your Missus Marvel?” *holds mic to Billy’s face*

Marvel: “…Huh?” *Has confused expression* “Can you repeat that?”

Reporter: “Who is your Missus Marvel?”

Marvel: “Uh… Ma’am, there is no—” *Does air quotes* “—Missus Marvel.”

Reporter: “Then who is the mother of Captain Marvel Junior and Mary Marvel?”

Marvel: “Uuuuh… Me? Technically? They’re both made from parts of me, but not parts *gestures to his lower region* of me, no.” *He shook his head.* “If I remember correctly Mary was made about 10000 years ago when one of my arms were chopped off. (He’s lying through his teeth right now. The only reason he hasn’t been caught is because of Achilles allowing him to bullshit his was through without blinking.)

Reporter: “I- I see.” *stunned*

Marvel: “And then Junior’s a…” *snorts* “…leg.” *Muffles a laugh into his hand not realizing no one will get his joke besides Freddy and Mary*

Reporter: *confused by Billy laughing but doesn’t say anything* “Interesting… Are Mary Marvel and Marvel Junior your only children? Spawn? Wards?”

Marvel: “Oh, yeah. I could more though. Like, watch this.” *Literally breaks off his ring finger, splintering the bone and everything without a single flinch. Then drops the finger on the ground and it morphs into what looks like a four year old Marvel. Billy picks him up and holds him like a parent would their toddler.* “It’s super easy.” *He’s even doing the slight bouncing that parents do when they hold their kids.* “But I don’t know… now that I’m holding this one, I’m starting to get attached. We might keep him.” *looks down at the mini Marvel, who in turn looks back at him.*

Reporter: *still horrified she watched a man, if he even is one, snap one of his fingers off like nothing. Said man’s finger nub is also still exposed to the world in all its disgusting glory. Safe to say she’s looking a little green* “O- Oh really?”

Marvel: *moves Mini Marvel around in his grip, and then suddenly throws the toddler like a paper airplane. Thankfully, instead of falling on the ground and splattering like meat pie, Mini Marvel takes to the skies is flying over the nearby crowd and such. Marvel turns back to the reporter.* “Yeah, but before that happens, he’ll have to develop a consciousness and personality. It took a bit for Mary and Junior to develop their own. Now they have their own likes, dislikes, and feelings. Who knows how long it’ll take the little guy.” (Again, he’s bullshitting this completely. He’s mishmashing Solomon’s wisdom on golems with things he makes up on the fly)

Reporter: “That’s… amazing.” *looks greener now. Looks to cameraman and motions for him to cut the feed. As soon as he does, her hand moves to her mouth.* “Oh my god, I’m going to be sick.” *runs over to nearest trashcan*

Marvel: “I guess that’s my cue to leave.” *starts to float off the ground* “Thanks for having me, miss!” *Marvel then whistles and Mini Marvel immediately stops entertaining the crowd and flies over to Billy and they fly off into the sunset.*

Elsewhere… Mary’s working an odd job for some money when she sees a tv on the news channel. She nearly has a heart attack because for three brief seconds she thought her dad was holding a young Billy in his arms like he used to. Then she blinked a couple times and realized it was just Billy as Marvel with four year old dressed like him. Fawcett kids really love Captain Marvel, huh?

(Oh yeah, and as for how he made Mini Marvel, he’s my hypothesis. When he broke off his finger, he destabilized its form and it reverted back to a part of living lightning for a brief couple of moments. Then, in an effort to not return back to the rock, as it could sense part of itself still nearby, it stabilized itself once more and forced itself to take the form of a miniature Marvel) (and if anyone makes sense of that, I’ll be darned)

[toxycodone]

ship. captain grant mccurley (curly) x reader

content. general hcs + sfw + romantic

an. hehe u guys know i love doing these big ass hc posts to like. characterize and get a feel for how I write for characters sooo yaaaay enjoy this

general curly hcs (feat. the Tulpar crew near the end)

as much as I love scottish/irish/british curly,,,,he is american born. HEAR ME OUT. his parents/grandparents are immigrants buuuut this man is all american (where it counts ig).

he's from Colorado! his family mostly lives around there/mid america. He grew up playing a lot of winter sports (hence his love for it). As a kid he played ice hockey for sure and lost a tooth. there's a polaroid at his mom's place with him smiling happily after a game with a bloodied tooth in between his fingers

but as a pre-teen/teen he moved to the south. somewhere around the mid-south/mississippi basin. as sad as he was to leave Colorado behind, he latched onto southern culture sooo fast. I am a huge southern transplant Curly believer.

And this is when he meets jimmy. They went to 8th grade and high school together. After witnessing Jimmy's terrible ass home life, curly kinda latches onto him. It's a weird mix of being way too empathetic, his savior complex, and just desire to be useful/helpful/etc.

Jimmy basically lived with Curly his junior and sophmore years of high school. His household was abusive and terrible so Curly's own parents let him "sleep over". He has his own toothbrush, loofa, shower products, etc at Curly's. He didn't even ask for them either, Curly and his dad got them out shopping once.

^ Jimmy is thankful but oh my GOD does he resent curly for having such an unproblematic home life. curly has vented about his parents being too overprotective or something before and jimmy lashes out at him for it (oof)

Curly sticks up for Jimmy way. too. much. As much as he cares, it's actually kinda toxic. Curly never lets Jimmy face the consequences of his own actions, downplays all his shit, doesn't take the warning signs Jimmy clearly exhibits...he kinda acts as a barrier to Jimmy growing up and learning to be himself alone.

And on the other hand, Jimmy is way to enabling of this. It's easy. Simple. He latches onto Curly and like. feels threatened by any new friends, romantic interests, etc.

when Curly starts working for the Pony Express (an actual REAL career that takes Curly away from Jimmy)...Jim spirals. yeah.

He goes to jail. and when Curly gets back from his haul, the first thing he does is bail him out, co sign shit for him, etc. So again, Jimmy doesn't face the consequences of his actions. (and we see how that plays out in game...)

BUT YEAH. Jimmy is a mississippi native and he and curly do so much country ass shit together. hand fishing for catfish, mudding, hunting, all that jazz. they are avid rodeo fans too. Curly goes every year (he's tried to compete. broke his wrist doing those calf cathcing/tie down things i think)

Curly and the Tulpar crew have been together for a handful of hauls. (I mean in-game dialogue suggests this too). Knowing people that long means he's a well respected captain and they're kinda a little family!

Swansea is tough to work with, but actually respect's curly. This is bc Curly skirts by the typical PE rules, but not in a bad way. He's really adamant about safety and following protocol, which Swansea respects (although it's annoying). But the 5 hours of rest rule? Curly thinks that's ridiculous. As long as the work is being done, Curly doesn't count break time. So there's plenty of blankets or pillows lying around the common room in case anyone needs a nap on one of the couches. Curly also advises everyone have a blanket and pillow in their work areas during shifts for "comfort" (it's just code for everyone to catch some sleep outside of the time they spend in their quarters).

Curly also makes sure they have game nights + shared meals +etc. He counts these as "meetings" or "team building exercises" when sending reports to corporate.

Curly and Anya haven't been together too long compared to the others. The Tulpar haul is her second haul with Curly, but they've known each other for at least 3+ years and are pretty comfortable with each other. Curly made sure she felt as comfortable as possible being the only girl on their team. (well. yknow. until that ultimately gets tested.) But I think Anya and Curly aren't extremely close which explains why she doesn't immediately come to him w issues + why Curly doesn't deal w Jimmy in a harsher way (it's a combination of Curly being sleep deprived, favoring Jimmy, and ultimately his own paranioa and shortcomings. Curly has a real problem confronting Jimmy bc of his past w lashing out).

Curly is an insomniac. Not on Earth, but on hauls most definitely. He has a lot of anxiety about hauls (which he chalks up to being "normal") and the monotony of them drives him crazy. He's constantly a little sleep deprived.

He picked up weight lifting as a hobby on hauls bc cardio is like. impossible on that ship and it makes him feel good. <3 When he doesn't have access to the gym he does pull ups on loose bars on the Tulpar and stuff lol. He has a few weights and crap though. And that Pony Express brand protein powder is hella useful for cutting.

sfw + romantic

Oh he most definitely doesn't have a partner on earth. It's why he's facing his mid life crisis shit because he's like my god. all this work and status and nothing to show for it wtf. I think he really wants to have a relationship, but most people don't want to put up with the fact he's gone for about a year or so. off planet. with little communication.

On the Tulpar he keeps it in his pants. Curly is a professional and does his best to continue acting that way. But no one really comes onto him anyways? (if they did. my God I think he would be very weak to it.)

He has rizz. Like. Mr. Grant McCurley can fucking flirt like a champ. If he wants you he will make it clear. Ask you out for drinks. Then pay at the end. He makes it clear he's not expecting anything either?? Total southern gentleman shi

Insists on only giving a cheek kiss after the first date too like sheeesh (he's playing the waiting game with you. trying to keep you wanting HIM yeah he's good).

I like to think he's more traditional when it comes to romance like...dates weekly or bi weekly. Gives you flowers and chocolates and stuff. He actively pursues you and its soooooo <3333

No sex until at least after the third or fourth date too like. AGAIN. WAITING GAME. wants you to initiate that stuff (but he'll give hints like putting his hand on your knee and letting it trail up your thigh. YEAH)

He's the type who is always planning his life with you in it. Like, he's gotta have your fave snacks/drinks in his pantry/fridge. You have your own stuff at his apartment before you move in (that he bought, btw. he takes note when he visits ur place). His apartment feels like your home away from home. <3

He definitely rubs his stubble on you to annoy you when he gives you hugs. ewwww i hate men (im lying)

ok idk what else to write but. he used to use old spice but now uses a calvin klein cologne that man smells GOOD ASF

ok thats all i got enjoy

[deathbyday]

-'⁠🫧*⁠.⁠✧ MOUTHWASHING ✧.⁠*⁠🫧'⁠ -

P4

“How could we end up here…?”

Daisuke x implied F!Reader

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Written By: DeathByDay

(Also written on Mobile)

2 MONTHS AFTER THE CRASH

You, Jimmy, Daisuke, Swansea and Anya sat at the lounge table. You haven’t grouped up with everyone in a while. They were always busy dealing with the aftermath of Captain Curly’s doings. Honestly, you were too. You couldn’t believe that he would do something like that.

You all stare at Jimmy, waiting for him to start speaking. You sit beside Anya while Daisuke sits across from you, Swansea right beside him. Jimmy sits on the end of the table, appearing as the leader.

“Anyone else would do the same thing.” Jimmy speaks, his voice calm. “We ain’t touching the damn cargo. The hold is locked down for a reason. The only thing worse than dying slowly is not getting paid.” Swansea argues.

You glance up at him, giving him a weird look. “But it could be something useful. I think-..” Anya attempts to reason with the short haired man, but failed to do so. “Could be what? Hopes, dreams and marzipan?” He chuckles, glaring at the black haired woman.

Anya tries to speak again, but she gets cut off by Jimmy. “If it helps us survive it’s worth it.” He mutters. You stare between the trio, not knowing whose side you’re on. Jimmy did have a point about how if it gives you an advantage to live, you’ll have to take it.

But a small percentage of you can’t help but wonder if it’ll hurt one of you. Or worse, all of you. You bite your lip as Daisuke chimes in. “Man, Pony Express bosses really aren’t chill at all, huh?” Everyone turnes their heads towards him, including you.

“C’mon! A quick look won’t hurt.” You gently shove Daisuke’s leg with your foot, getting his attention. “What if we get hurt trying to look?” You question, a worried expression glazing your face.

“That wouldn’t happen, Y/N.” Anya replies, a soft smile appearing on her lips for a moment. You can’t help but keep thinking about it. Even if it wasn’t going to happen, what if it did?

“How exactly is this group therapy committee planning on getting in there?” Swansea asks before Daisuke turns to him, exposing his solution.

“Right here, boss!” He happily replies. “You’re looking at the meanest swing of the regional junior baseball team. Straight up nearly corked a kid once!” He brags, a grin plastered on his lips.

“I can take the utility axe and-..” Swansea slams his hand on the table before shouting. “You were goddamn born fully corked!” He retorts. Daisuke’s smile slightly softens, but it was still noticeable.

“That’s enough, Swansea.” Jimmy cuts in before he could say anything worse. “There has to be an ‘in case of emergency’ way inside.” Anya perks up before speaking.

“If I remember correctly from the safety protocols, the doors should have an alternate access code. But, it can only be uncovered using a code scanner device.” She explains.

“Isn’t the only person who has access to the code scanner the captain?” You murmur, tilting your head. Jimmy nods, confirming your question. “Of course! Go ahead and ask him all about it then. Maybe he’ll sing ya the blues too.” Swansea sarcastically declares.

“We don’t need him if we find the scanner, get the code, and open the hold.” Jimmy argues. “For better or worse, I’m captain now. I’ll figure it out.” Your brows furrow, hasty eyeing the brunette male.

Nobody discussed that he would be the new captain. Although he was the second in command before the crash, it still felt wrong.

“Right on!” You wish you could punch Daisuke in the face right now. You love him, but god could he be dumb. Now that Jimmy’s the captain, he’s the one to search for the code scanner. You all let him be, going to do your own thing. You follow Daisuke down to the digital screen, wanting to talk to him.

Your arms sit crossed over your chest, a worried expression plastered on your face. You turn your head to see Jimmy searching for the scanner around you two first. You glance back down at the brunette before speaking.

“Are we sure we want Jimmy to be the new captain? It just feels wrong to me. You know Jimmy’s always rambling to himself about how he should be the leader, not Curly.” You mutter, keeping your voice low.

Daisuke smiles up at you, trying to ease any doubt you have about Jimmy. “I’m sure it’ll be fine, babe. You don’t need to worry about him.” He reassures, his voice soft.

You take a sharp breath in, not giving a very confident nod in agreement before smiling back, thankful for his comfort. Suddenly, Jimmy walks up to the both of you, causing your smile to disappear as Daisuke spoke.

“Looks like it’ll be soup again for dinner. You wanna rock paper scissors for the chicken noodle?” He suggests half-jokingly, trying to lighten the current situation. “How much food do we have left?” Jimmy replies, not in the mood for any kind of game.

“I think around 4 to 5 months, maybe in between?” You chime in, glancing at Jimmy. He thought for a moment before speaking. “Less than the remaining air supply, but we can make it last.” He hums.

“We’ll be starting to poke new holes in our belts pretty soon to pull that off.” Your anxiety worsened as he pointed out starving yourselves, not wanting to have to cut down on eating just to make sure the food supply last longer.

“Man, my mom will straight up stuff me when I get back. I’ll look like Swansea!” Daisuke chuckles. “We’ll have a rad story to tell, though. They might even write articles about us. We could be on TV!” His eyes seem to light up at the thought.

You chuckle before placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Don’t get too ahead of yourself, Daisuke. We still need to figure out how to even get out of here safely.” Although it would be nice to be famous, you couldn’t help but think of the reality.

It was silent for a few seconds until Jimmy spoke up. “..It’ll impress your parents too.” He nods as Daisuke grins like a little boy at his words. “Mhm!” He hums in agreement before nervously chuckling.

“The real problem is us running out of toilet paper. Fatal stuff, man.” He scratches the back of his head. “We should leave that part out for the press, huh?” You bite back a giggle as Jimmy changes the subject.

“Has Swansea been like this towards you for your whole internship?” He asks, his brow raising in thought. “That’s just how he is!” Daisuke defended. “Didn’t want a spud like me following him around for an entire year.”

“This isn’t really the internship experience anyone had in mind.” Jimmy mumbles, shrugging his shoulders. “Don’t let him push you around too much.”

“His bark is worse than his bite. He may be cranky, but he is legit a wizard of a mechanic!” You recall a few times where Swansea was fixing things in front of you, causing you to chime in.

“Yeah! I’m surprised he still has it in him, seeing as he’s almost at retirement age. I guess hard work does pay off.” You hum, a small smile crossing your face.

“I’m sure he’d appreciate your thoughts.” You couldn’t tell if Jimmy was being sarcastic or not, but you nodded anyway. You cross your arms against your chest once again as Daisuke changes the topic.

“Did you find the scanner thing yet? I’d ask Anya about it, she’s been reading the safety manual like a bible since the crash.” Jimmy nods as a ‘thanks’ before looking up at you, making eye contact for a split second. You instantly look away, not saying anything.

He didn’t mention it and turned his back to you both, possibly to search for Anya in the medical room.

————

You were cut off mid sentence by the sound of the lounge door opening, causing you and Daisuke to turn your heads to where the sound came from. It only took a few seconds for you to realize Anya was the one who ran through the door.

Her legs gave out as she clutched her chest. From the screen of the sunset, you could hear her heavy breathing. You were about to call out her name, asking if she was alright, but Daisuke wrapped his hand around your forearm.

You looked back towards him, brows creased in concern. He shook his head as to tell you to leave her alone and let her calm down, so you did. You kept your voice low, just in case it would trigger her.

After a few minutes, the door opened once again. This time, Jimmy came through it. He walked up to Anya and crouched down beside her.

“We don’t have a whole lot of painkillers left.” He muttered, ignoring the fact she looked like she was going to have a panic attack. “But you still want to keep-..”

“Why do you think he did it?” Anya cut him off, not paying attention to what he said. “Does it matter? What answer would make you feel any better?” He sternly replied, no hint of empathy in his voice.

“I have to believe that our worst moments don’t make us monsters, Jim.” She whispered. “…I have to. Even in his case.”

“He tried to take us all down with him, Anya.” It almost sounded like Jimmy was on the verge of yelling at her. “The way I see it, there’s two reasons to keep him alive at this point.”

You couldn’t stop staring at the two, watching their conversation. Even though Daisuke tried to get you to look away, it was useless. You felt the need to watch them to prevent Jimmy from doing something to Anya. Either verbally or physically.

“Guess the important bit is that we all agreed to it. For one reason or another.” He shrugged, his voice not as strong as it has been. Anya shook her head. “I-I’m still feeling nauseous.. I need a minute.” She quickly got up from her spot on the floor and ran off.

You looked over towards Daisuke before continuing on with your conversation about video games, twirling your fingers around one another.

————

Anya, you, Daisuke and Swansea stood in front of the Cargo Hold, waiting for Jimmy to bring back the code scanner. Luckily, just after a few minutes of waiting, he did. He walked up to the four of you, scanner in hand.

He glanced at you all, taking in your expressions. You just wanted this whole thing to be over. You stood beside Daisuke, one of your hands on your forearm.

“Well? Get on with it.” Swansea urges, his hands over his hips. “This is all you. I want it duly noted that I had no involvement in this.” Jimmy nodded in agreement before turning towards the younger brunette. “What do you guys think we’ve been shipping?” Daisuke pondered.

“If it’s spare parts, maybe me and Swansea can repair the ship and we can get out of here! Right, Swansea?” He turned to the older man who turned to him. “Quit yapping.” Jimmy ignored the two of them and looked to you.

“It could be more food.. maybe we won’t need to starve ourselves after all!” A gentle smile appeared on your lips before the dark haired male turned around to see Anya beside the door.

“Are we doing the right thing..? Let it be medicine, food, or water.” She hoped to herself. Jimmy stepped towards the sign with the hidden code before flashing the code scanner on it.

4517

He put the scanner away and walked up to the door code before putting the numbers in. The door slid open, revealing numerous of shipping boxes on shelves.

————

7 DAYS BEFORE THE CRASH

You stood beside the utility room’s door with Jimmy, peaking into the room. You snickered, not being able to contain your laughter. Daisuke was just trying to fix the vent, trying to be a good intern, but he accidentally triggered the emergency foam which made him slip out and get stuck in the substance.

You felt so bad for him, but at the same time it was so funny. You heard heavy footsteps to your right, causing you to look up. The owner of the footsteps was the captain. He gave you a short lived wave before turning towards Jimmy, glancing inside the room.

“And Pony Express said they don’t provide on board entertainment.” Jimmy slightly chuckled, eyeing Curly. You continued staring at the scene, a dorky grin running across your lips.

“Feels like there’s always something broken in that room.” Curly shrugs, a sigh leaving his throat. “Tulpar’s starting to show her age.” Jimmy raised a brow.

“Passed inspection, right? Shouldn’t be an issue.” He declared. Curly hummed, adding on; “Plus, they added Daisuke last minute.”

You perked up at hearing your boyfriend’s name, taking brief glances towards the two men beside you. “Didn’t account that there’d be six of us now. I only knew one more was coming, not two.” The captain tilted his head towards you before his head became straight once again.

“I really should have made a bigger stink about that.” He complained, regretting his decision to allow Daisuke on board. You were glad he did though. Otherwise, you probably wouldn’t have met him.

“Maybe you should intervene?” Jimmy suggests, referring to the mess inside the utility room. “Or we could just close the door.” He shrugged. “Your call.”

You and Jimmy kept away from the scene, staying in the doorway as Curly walked inside. “Well, I can see the issue.” He chuckled at the site in front of him. “The kid was brought on just to make me suffer!” Swansea had his arm crossed, the look of disappointment written all over his face.

“I was just trying to fix the vent! How did that trigger the emergency foam?!” Daisuke attempted to get free from his spot, only to be stuck in place. Swansea turned his head towards him. “Because you’re talented in all the wrong ways!” He argued.

“I would’ve dealt with this but only you can unlock the axe case.” Swansea grumbled, placing his hands on his hips. “Every goddamn thing has to go through you.”

“I’ll handle it. Hang in there, Daisuke.” Curly reassured him before walking to the ‘in case of emergency’ box that held the axe. He took out the code scanner, flashing the light on the black rectangle.

2609

He quickly put in the code, opening the case. He grabbed the weapon and walked back towards the two brunettes, ready to swing at the foam. A few seconds later, Daisuke was finally set free from the substance.

“Strong stuff, huh?” He ow’ed in pain but still tried to get a chuckle out of everyone. Swansea wasn’t having it though. “Get it through your goddamn skull! That vent is strictly off limits. Fully fucking collapsed inside.” He lectured. “You looking to get impaled, electrocuted and cooked?!”

You lightly smiled, knowing deep down Swansea does really care for Daisuke. But he just can’t show it. “Yeah, but like.. you can’t fit in there to fix it, right?” The whole room went silent, stunned at what just came out of his mouth. You instantly covered your mouth, eyes wide.

“So I can totally handle it-..” Daisuke gets cut off by Swansea turning to Curly. “Captain. Give me the axe.” He demands. “Swansea..” The dirty blond warned, trailing off. “This could’ve damaged the pods. You can’t let something like this happen again.”

You leaned against the doorframe, becoming bored from the lack of excitement. You drown the rest of the conversation out, waiting for Curly to be done speaking to the two of them.

Jimmy moved right beside you, arms at his sides. You twirled around strands of your hair, glancing at the man standing next to you. “Hi, Jimmy.” You muttered, your voice soft. He stared at you, nodding his head before mumbling, “Hey.”

You were honestly a bit surprised he even said anything back. Nonetheless, you give him a light smile, attempting to be sweet. It was short lived as Curly came towards the two of you and Jimmy opening his mouth to speak, ignoring you.

You rolled your eyes before blowing Daisuke a small kiss, making sure he saw it. You backed off, turning around and walked away from the utility room. You wanted a have a small chat about Jimmy to Curly, but he just seemed so busy. Along with that and the fact he’s always near him.

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author’s note

finally getting ready for angst!! I’m so ready to write how some people’s deaths impacts the reader. i can’t tell if i want a certain someone to be added into the mix yet or not..

fifth chapter will be up in a few days!! thank you all for the support, I appreciate it so much! and happy halloween!!! 🎃

bye for now<3

[dreamisols]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ COFFEE TALK

INTRODUCTION FIC TO 'THE ART OF REMEMBRANCE'

—the rare moments of free time allow you and your boyfriend to talk about anything and everything that comes to mind... at this point, you two might as well be the third division's free podcast! —wc: 1050; fluff but mostly crack —original canon, x fem!reader, you and hoshina are just silly, hibino leno and kikoru mentions, one cuss, general pov more or less, i advocate for silly unhinged dynamics —rimi's ramble: told myself not to rush the series but i wrote this in one sitting... my summer's gonna be spent writing about this man, buckle up folks! >:]

The Third Division considers you and Hoshina as their power couple. 

Charming looks paired with commanding auras, levels of strength that no one would dare go against, all topped off with endearing one-of-a-kind personalities. Two puzzle pieces that fit as if they’re made for each other.

Everyone within the division quickly accepted and supported your relationship with the Vice Captain. And with that support comes your status as the “local love team"—an inside joke and a makeshift badge of honor (if one could even call it that).

In their defense, there isn't even any sort of competition to begin with. You two are the only couple within the division.

Every member, no matter how long they’ve been in the Defense Force, holds high respect towards both of you. They trust you with a lot of things—the wisdom you both give to your members is actually useful, and your attack combos on the field are nothing to scoff at. 

Yes, they would trust you two with their lives, and yes, the way they’d say it might blur the lines of comedy and seriousness. There’s simply one thing that’s holding everyone off…

No one trusts the both of you with coffee. 

Ironic, considering it’s one of Vice Captain Hoshina’s favorite things. 

Another inside joke is that whenever a member enters the lounge room and they’re greeted by the rich inviting scent of brewed coffee, they will be tuning in to some sort of a podcast episode hosted by their one and only dynamic duo. 

No one session is the same. Sometimes you two end up talking about some story you read or some personal experiences. Other days, it’s just opening as many controversial topics as you both can while expressing your opinions in a lighthearted debate. One time, to the division’s surprise, you two started doing a deep dive into a conspiracy theory, complete with a whole digital presentation and proven statistics. 

It’s even more surprising how convincingly well put the entire thing was to the point even Captain Ashiro listened in with interest. 

The members found it pleasant, enjoyable even. A chance to hold more conversations about different non-kaiju-related topics thanks to you and Hoshina’s exceptionally random conversation starters.

All they ask is that you guys don’t open up a topic that might get you random looks at best, or—hypothetically—get the both of you canceled on the internet at worst.   

Today was one of those days, the team figured, when you and your boyfriend step into the (initially busy) lounge with matching porcelain cups. Hibino, Leno, and Kikoru were the ones present in the room… this marks their first time listening in on the two of you rambling.

“I don’t know, Soshiro-san, don’t you think that may be a little too intense?” you made a beeline and assumed your spot on the couch right in front of Kikoru, drinking from your cup the moment you sat on the soft cushion.

Hoshina follows after you and settles right by your side, “No way!” If he weren’t holding anything, you can envision the way he’d cross his arms and huff. He mimics your movements from a while ago, taking a sip from his drink before placing the cup down with a small ‘clink!’. 

A childish pout graces his lips as he stares right at you. “If you think hard enough, I’m telling ya, dicing those kaiju is just like makin’ intricate fruit carvings!”

May the gods give the juniors strength because what the actual fuck were you two talking about?

The room is radio silent. You and Hoshina continue to glare at each other as if you’re both in a mental debate. Which seems likely enough.  

Kikoru nudges Leno’s arm to get him to break the ice and the poor guy sputters. Hibino breaks into a cold sweat when he catches the way you and Hoshina sharply look at the three of them. 

“V-Vice Captain..! (Name)-san… go–good afternoon!” Leno prays his salute doesn’t give away the fact he’s shaking.

By record, this may have to be the oddest conversation they’ve heard in passing.

You flash the three of them a small smile and Hoshina does a small wave of his hands. Not even a second later, the man beside you jumps at the opportunity to find allies for his claim.

“You guys think that slicin' kaiju is like slicing fruits, right?”

Bless your soul that you’re stubborn enough to match his energy. “If anything, it’s more like carving wood! You have to be intricate about it!” 

Hoshina looks back at you like you’ve transformed into the kaiju you were talking about, “Wood carving?! Darlin’ I love you more than the coffee I’m drinking right now, but you’ve reached a new level of insanity!”

“Comparing anything to kaiju neutralization is already some form of insanity…” Leno whispers under his breath. “Let alone wood carving and fruit dicing…” Kikoru murmurs back in agreement. 

“Aww, you love me more than coffee?”

The immediate shift from a lighthearted argument to some sappy lovey dovey confession while talking about carving patterns on kaiju may be just as impressive as your combat prowess, the trio decides. 

Hibino breathes a sigh of relief and mumbles, “Those two fit each other so well… wonder if it’s a match made in heaven or hell…”

“We’re soulmates!” Hoshina corrects him, instinctively reaching out to hold your hands as if it’ll prove his point further. He gently laces his fingers with yours before glowering at Hibino, “You also called us demons with the whole 'hell' comment. Thirty push-ups for the three of you, ya hear?”

Leno nudges his senior’s ribs like he wants to end him right then and there. Kikoru was probably devising ways to successfully kill him on the spot. Hibino’s fighting for his life, but he still manages to catch the way you and Hoshina look at each other with mirroring lovesick smiles. 

If he manages to scrape out alive, maybe this coffee talk wasn’t that bad.

likes and reblogs are appreciated, but please don’t copy or repost my work! [edited: 062424]

[supernova2205]

Unexpected Introductions

Gaz x reader

Summary: When the reader brings Gaz his forgotten lunch on base, she’s unexpectedly introduced to the rest of the 141. What starts as a simple gesture turns into a whirlwind of teasing. Despite Kyle’s embarrassment, the reader leaves a nice impression strengthening the bond between her and Gaz.

The mid-morning sun bathed the base in crisp winter light, the cool breeze carrying the faint scent of exhaust and freshly brewed coffee. You shifted the weight of the neatly packed lunch bag in your hand, your heart thumping a little faster than usual as you approached the entrance to the 141’s headquarters.

It wasn’t your first time doing something thoughtful for Kyle—your Kyle, better known as Sergeant “Gaz” Garrick—but walking onto a military base felt different. The gates, the security checks, the hum of activity… It was all a little overwhelming.

Still, you couldn’t ignore the small lunch bag you’d found sitting on your kitchen counter, forgotten in his early-morning rush. The idea of him going without food during his long hours on base didn’t sit right with you. So here you were, standing in the reception area, waiting for someone to fetch him.

Kyle was mid-briefing in the conference room, standing alongside Price, Soap, and Ghost. The team’s attention was split between the holographic map on the table and the captain’s deep, commanding voice.

That was until a knock broke the rhythm of the conversation.

“Enter,” Price said without looking up, his tone clipped.

The door swung open, revealing a junior soldier who saluted sharply. “Apologies, sir, but there’s someone here for Sergeant Garrick.”

Kyle blinked. “For me?”

“Yes, sir. Civilian. She said she’s got your… lunch.”

The room fell silent. All eyes turned to Kyle. Soap’s head whipped around so fast he almost knocked over his coffee mug, while Price’s brows inched up with barely concealed amusement. Even Ghost cocked his head slightly, though his mask obscured any expression.

“Uh…” Kyle cleared his throat, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. “That’s… probably my—” He hesitated, catching himself. “I’ll handle it. Thanks.”

Price leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, his smirk downright predatory. “Well, Garrick, don’t keep her waitin’. We’ll hold the fort.”

Soap leaned closer, his grin wide and mischievous. “Aye, hurry along, Romeo.”

Kyle shot him a glare before ducking out of the room, muttering under his breath.

You spotted Kyle the moment he turned the corner, his sharp features softening into a warm smile as soon as he saw you.

“Hey,” he greeted, his voice rich and familiar.

“Hi,” you replied, holding up the bag. “You left this at home. Thought you might need it.”

A sheepish chuckle escaped him as he took the bag from your hands. “Didn’t even realize. Thanks, love. You didn’t have to come all this way.”

“It’s no big deal,” you said with a shrug. “Besides, can’t have you going hungry, can I?”

He stepped closer, his fingers brushing yours briefly in a small, unspoken thank-you. “You’re the best.”

The tender moment was cut short by the unmistakable sound of a broad Scottish accent.

“Who’s this, then?”

Both of you turned to see a man standing in the doorway, his bright blue eyes sparkling with mischief. He leaned casually against the frame, his grin as wide as the Cheshire Cat’s.

Kyle groaned softly. “Soap. Don’t start.”

Ignoring him entirely, Soap’s grin only grew. “Ach, so this is why ye’ve been sneakin’ off like a lovesick lad, eh? Didn’t ken ye were hidin’ a lass from us!”

“I wasn’t sneaking off,” Kyle said, his tone defensive.

Soap cocked an eyebrow. “Ye weren’t? Coulda fooled me. Now”—he turned to you with a theatrical flourish—“who might ye be, darlin’?”

You glanced at Kyle, whose face was rapidly turning red. Deciding to save him from more embarrassment, you offered your name.

“Pleasure’s all mine,” Soap said, reaching out to shake your hand. “Call me Soap. Everyone does.”

Before you could respond, another voice joined the fray.

“Soap, what’s goin’ on?”

Captain Price appeared behind him, his brow furrowing briefly before his gaze landed on you. A knowing smile tugged at his lips. “Ah, I see.”

Soap stepped aside dramatically. “Cap’n, meet Gaz’s bonnie lass. She’s brought him his lunch. Proper wife material, if ye ask me.”

Kyle groaned louder this time. “For the love of—can we not do this right now?”

Price ignored him, extending a hand to you. “Captain John Price. And you are?”

You shook his hand, offering your name again. “It’s nice to meet you, Captain. Kyle’s mentioned you.”

“Has he now?” Price’s eyes gleamed. “All good things, I hope.”

“Oh, definitely,” you replied, earning a quiet laugh from the captain.

“Hold on,” Soap interjected, his grin turning devious. “Does this mean you’re… his girlfriend?”

“Soap—” Kyle began, but the damage was done.

You hesitated, glancing at Kyle, who sighed in resignation. “Yes,” he muttered, almost too quietly to hear. “She’s my girlfriend.”

Soap let out a whoop of delight. “Knew it! Called it ages ago!”

Kyle buried his face in his hands as Soap clapped him on the back. “Och, mate, ye’ve been holdin’ out on us! She’s a keeper, that’s fer sure.”

Ghost appeared then, his imposing figure silently observing the scene. His voice, deep and dry, cut through the chaos. “You didn’t tell us you had a girlfriend, Garrick.”

“I didn’t think it was relevant,” Kyle muttered, his ears burning.

“Relevant?” Soap echoed, incredulous. “Yer daft, mate. This is the most relevant thing I’ve heard all week!”

The next half hour passed in a whirlwind of questions, teasing, and introductions. Soap bombarded you with questions about how you met Kyle, what he was like at home, and even what his favorite meal was.

“So,” Soap said, leaning in conspiratorially, “does he snore?”

You laughed. “Not usually, but when he’s really tired…”

“Oh, brilliant,” Soap said, doubling over with laughter.

Price, meanwhile, asked more thoughtful questions, his tone warm but curious. “What’s it like putting up with him? He’s a handful here; I can only imagine what he’s like at home.”

“He’s sweet,” you said honestly. “Very thoughtful. He even leaves little notes around the house—”

“Alright, that’s enough!” Kyle interrupted, stepping between you and the team. “You lot have had your fun.”

Soap smirked, but he didn’t press further. Even Ghost seemed amused, though he remained mostly silent, his presence a quiet counterbalance to Soap’s energy.

As you said your goodbyes, Kyle walked you to the entrance, his hand brushing yours.

“Sorry about them,” he said, his voice low. “They’re… a bit much.”

“Don’t be sorry,” you said, smiling up at him. “They’re great. I can see why you care about them so much.”

He paused, his expression softening. “Thanks for coming. Really. It means a lot.”

You squeezed his hand. “Always. See you tonight?”

“Yeah,” he said, leaning down to press a quick kiss to your forehead.

As you walked away, you heard Soap’s voice echoing behind you.

“She’s a keeper, Gaz! Don’t mess this one up!”

You couldn’t help but laugh, already looking forward to the next time you’d see them all again.

Authors note: Hey everyone! I really hope you enjoyed this cute, fluffy story featuring Gaz. I’ve been feeling like I haven’t given him enough love in my writing, so I’d love to explore his character more! I also tried my hand at writing his accent, so I hope it turned out well. Thanks for reading! 😄💕

[polarisjisung]

LOVE ON THE COURT | 04 SORRY, KYS

SYNOPSIS | every college student has their struggles, but raising her younger brother has Y/N top of the list, struggling her way through college whilst balancing her academics and basketball captaincy is difficult no doubt and with Jaemin, her ex best friend and captain of the guys basketball team, and his growing one sided hatred towards her, it doesn't seem to be getting any easier

WARNINGS | swearing, kys/kms jokes, sexual innuendos, jaemin is still a bitch but that will change soon (eventually), hello kitty isn't a fucking cat bruh what </3

As soon as he enters the library, his eyes fall on you, sweet smile on your lips as you talk to one of the juniors, jaemin feels his stomach flip, it always had at the sight of you, memories resurfacing in his mind as he hopes you haven't caught sight of him yet— you haven't luckily

He feels sick, scared to hear your voice and relive everything he had before, a throbbing in his head taking over as he finally decides to walk over

"Hey" you whisper, the pink haired boy opposite you stood with this unreadable expression across his face, sheer hatred you assume, making no effort to respond to you

He's at least 45 minutes late, but you don't even seem the slightest bit bothered, and even if you are you certainly don't bring it up— jaemin grinds his teeth against each other

Finding a table isn't hard given most people are in class, though you didn't make much effort to find one either, following jaemin to one in the far end of the library by the window. he takes a seat and one end, and you take one on the opposite

You wait a moment for him to speak, not meeting his eyes as you lay your things down on the table

"i planned out the rest of the project" he says, shoving a piece of paper your way, printed with instructions and sources he seemed to have made himself, clearly detailing everything you need to do

"Thanks" you nod, getting to work. admittedly you'd have preferred a little more discussion before diving straight into working, but you weren't about to complain when jaemin'a hostility had been so contained, today at least

The two of you, as expected, don't speak about anything other than the task at hand, contrast to your study sessions before, when you'd barely be able to keep concentration, eventually and every time without fail, getting kicked out of your high school library for being so utterly disruptive

Now, there was a pin drop silence between you.

You can hear the whispers around you, the boy's dislike for you was common knowledge, so to see you sat opposite one another with your textbooks spread out in front of you, surprisingly not at each others throats, was nothing short of a shock

"What if, instead of doing just an essay, we had a presentation to go along with it" you suggest, the gears spinning in your mind, jaemin stops for a moment, dark eyes falling onto your hopeful ones

"No"

You nod, you're honestly too scared of messing up on the project and completely flunking than you are insistent on getting a high grade, so you continue typing, and jaemin does the same

"Do you think that we co-" you regret opening your mouth a second time the minute jaemin looks up at you, annoyed

"Shut up" he cuts you off, glaring at you with narrowed eyes "your voice is so fucking annoying"

You sigh, running a hand through your hair and nodding to yourself— there's no reason for you to argue with him, you know it won't get you anywhere.

So you gulp down the offence and shake your head, frowned lips returning to form a smile

Taking a second to rummage through your bag, as quietly as you can without the librarian shooting a sharp glare your way, you pull out your headphones, plugging them in your ears and pressing play

It's the easiest way to maintain concentration, and it drowns out the way too loud, way to often huffs and puffs jaemin let's out at the sight of you

It's not exactly easy, you feel the table rock slightly as jaemin taps his feet against the ground, a habit you remember well at times he was trying to concentrate. Though he seems lost in his world of books, it breaks your concentration in seconds, your eyes on him despite your head being hung low, you wonder when he had changed so much. You noticed the small things like how his moles had shifted slightly or how his teeth were straighter and he had started parting his hair just slightly to the left of where he used to before. The biggest change by far however is something that's not visible to the eye.

It makes you wonder how you could go from best friends to nothing so quickly. And the question sprouts in your mind, the one you had desperately tried to avoid, as you stare up at him you can't help but wonder what you had done to make him hate you so damn much.

You're lucky jaemin doesn't catch your eyes on him— in fact he doesn't take notice of the majority of your actions, until the dragging of your chair against the ground echoes through the library, your hurried footsteps towards the door causing his head to turn— he hated you

It didn't make sense how after everything you did for others, like now, as you helped the librarian carry in a large box of donated books, you had done all those things to him

He doesn't dare let his gaze linger, getting back to work before you return to your seat,

you however, don't seem as bothered about being caught with your eyes on him, admiring his pink hair with that half smile on your lips, with no shame

"Pink suits you" you say, and all jaemin does is roll his eyes, although he doesn't find the words in him to dispute— it was a lot easier to despise you from a distance

He stays silent, as he had practically all the way through this small meeting of yours, only offering curt nods in place of agreement until now, not that he had been agreeing all that much anyways

"I'm sorry about hitting you with the ball yesterday" he says just as you're about to get up, "and for being late" his tone is flat and his body language telling of his disingenuous attitude. You nod regardless

"Dont sweat it" you beam, sincerity dripping from your tone as you exit the library before him, and he swear he hates you even more

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[nhlclover]

THE ALCHEMY RYAN LEONARD

pairing: fem!reader x ryan leonard

summary: you find a brief moment to celebrate usa's world juniors win with ryan.

warnings: a kiss, mentions of drinking if you stare hard enough

wc: 1.12k

notes: based on 'the alchemy' by taylor swift. i borrowed some of their dialogue from taylor and travis when he won the superbowl lol

The crowd roared to life as you watched Teddy slip the puck between the goalie's legs, sealing USA’s fate. Your section in the stands, filled with red, white, and blue, erupted in chaos. Flags waved, strangers embraced, and the players on the ice flung themselves into each other’s arms, collapsing into a pile of triumphant disbelief. Around you, Ryan’s family whooped and cheered, his mom hugging you so tightly it almost hurt. The other families were just as exuberant, crying, laughing, high-fiving—caught up in the magic of a moment their boys had dreamed about for years.

Your eyes found Ryan in the chaos on the ice, wrapped up in a hug with the goal scorer himself. He had ripped his helmet off, his hair wild and sweat-soaked, his grin splitting his face in half. You watched as the celebration continued down on the ice, as the boys were presented with their medals and then the trophy.

When the fanfare wrapped up, you joined the spectators slowly making their way out of the stands. Eventually, you parted with Ryan's family and the rest of the crowd, deciding to meet them later for a private celebration. You couldn’t resist the pull to head down toward the tunnels, wanting just a glimpse of Ryan before the night spiralled into press conferences and parties. The labyrinthine halls of the arena were buzzing with activity — staff rushing by, reporters setting up, and muffled music echoing from deeper within.

As you approached the locker room, the thumping bass grew louder, paired with whoops and laughter. You paused just outside the door, your hand hovering near the handle. The music inside was deafening, a mix of victory chants and celebratory anthems. You could hear Ryan’s voice among them, loud and carefree, shouting along with his teammates.

You hesitated, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. This was his moment, winning gold as captain of the team. Did you really want to interrupt? The thought of stepping inside and breaking the magic of their celebration made you falter. It would be better if you caught up with him later when things had calmed down.

You turned to leave, only to catch Teddy coming around the corner, still in partial gear and clearly riding the high of the win.

“Y/n!” Teddy’s voice boomed, and before you could react, he had scooped you into a bear hug, his gear still cold and damp from the ice.

You laughed, feeling your feet touch the ground once again. “Congratulations, Teddy!” you laughed. “It was pretty incredible. You even had Canadian fans on their feet.”

Teddy beamed at the praise, running a hand through his damp hair. “Yeah, I’ll probably never shut up about that one,” he joked. Then his expression shifted, more mischievous. “Hey, you should come in. Ryan would love to see you right now.”

You hesitated, glancing toward the door. “I don’t want to get in the way.”

“Get in the way?” Teddy snorted. “Trust me, you walking in there will be the highlight of his night. And that’s saying something, considering we just won gold.”

Before you could overthink it, Teddy had slung an arm around your shoulder and was guiding you toward the locker room. The second the door opened, a wave of noise hit you — shouting, laughter, music. The air was thick with triumph and joy, the kind of euphoria that only comes from achieving something extraordinary.

Your eyes widened at the scene. The boys were a chaotic mess, still half in their gear, some holding beers, others swinging their medals around like trophies in themselves. And then you spotted Ryan.

He was at the center of it all, being hoisted up on the shoulders of his teammates, the gold medal around his neck gleaming under the harsh fluorescent lights. The guys around him chanted for him, their voices hoarse as they celebrated their leader.

“CAPTAIN! CAPTAIN! CAPTAIN!”

Your heart swelled at the sight of him, so unapologetically happy. He deserved every second of this. When they finally let him down, he stumbled slightly, laughing as his teammates patted his back and messed up his hair. Then, as if sensing you somehow, his eyes darted toward the door.

The second he saw you, his expression shifted. His grin widened, and he broke into a sprint, dodging teammates and abandoned gear until he reached you. Before you could even speak, he had his arms around you, lifting you off your feet and spinning you in a circle.

“Thank you for coming baby,” he said into your ear so only you could hear, despite the prying eyes of his teammates. “You’re the best. The absolute best.”

He held you tightly against his heaving chest, holding you as if he couldn’t believe you were quite real. He pulled back, only slightly, brushing his lips against yours. You kissed him back, and not a quick peck — the kind of kiss made the room disappear and time stand still. The noise around you faded, and all you could feel was him.

The jeers and whistling from his teammates broke into your little moment, you burying your head in Ryan’s shoulder as he told the boys to pipe down. “Save it for later, Cap!” Cole hollered, earning a loud chorus of cheers.

Ryan leaned his head down to you, his breath warm and uneven against your ear. He chuckled, his voice low and full of affection. “They're the worst,” he murmured, though you could hear his grin as he spoke, betraying his fondness for his teammates.

His hand slid down to take yours, his thumb brushing over your knuckles, which made you pull your head back out of his shoulder. He lifted your hand to his lips, kissing the back of it softly, a gesture so tender it made your chest ache. “I’ve got to handle the press and celebrate with the guys for a bit,” he said, his voice apologetic. “But I’ll see you soon, yeah?”

You nodded, smiling up at him. “Of course. I’ll be with your family in the meantime.”

He hesitated for just a beat, as if reluctant to let go. “I love you,” he said, his voice steady and full of certainty, even amidst the chaos around you.

Your heart swelled. “I love you too,” you replied, squeezing his hand before letting him go.

Ryan lingered for a moment longer, his eyes holding yours as if committing this moment to memory. Then, with one last grin, he turned and disappeared back into the locker room chaos. You watched him go, your cheeks aching from smiling so much. As you made your way back through the winding halls toward the stands, the distant sounds of celebration faded into the background.

[bearieio]

hockey!abby x f!reader note: i'm a simple person, i like abby, i like hockey..... drools sfw, 721 words

abby is the star hockey player, and newly appointed captain on the ice hockey team associated with your guys’ university

it was truly amazing how well she ended up playing in the semi-finals when you were in the lower bowl of the arena, wearing her teams’ jerseys.

during the break, after 2nd period ended, you caught her staring in your direction from the bench when you looked up from your phone.

she sat with her elbows propped up on her thighs. her cheeks were painted a rosy color and she was huffing up a storm from the previous altercation on the rink.

she sported her signature French braid and her baby hairs stuck to her glistening forehead.

when you looked back up from your phone, it seemed as though her eyes widened and the next thing you saw was her braid whip around as she seemed to turn her head the opposite way quickly.

you’d never talked to her in person before, but apparently, everyone else who attended your guys’ college was familiar with her.

from what everyone in your dorm was saying, she’s somewhat of the “playboy” type 🤨

abby was dazzled by you, to say the least.

she’d first seen you at what you guys later figured out was a mutual friend’s band gig.

the set was amazing btw.

she’d seen you from across the room dancing with your friend in the back of the basement-like location nonstop since the band had started playing.

she studied your facial expressions from the doorway she was leaning against. the way your hips swayed to the rhythm of the song. how your smile didn’t fade for the entire night and your eyebrows scrunched a little when you were really into one of the band’s songs.

before abby could make her way over to you after the set, you and the person you came with were already gone.

abby had tried asking around if anyone at the event knew you but unfortunately, no one said they did.

she was lowkey a #stalker..

the weekend after the semi-finals, the first time you’d both crossed paths, you had a psych exam at 07:30 in the morning.

abby had just been transferred to your dorm hall and was moving her things into the room diagonal to yours.

she’d grown tired of the roommates she had and decided to move into a single dorm to finish out the rest of her junior year in uni.

you were outside your door, rummaging through your bag for your keys that you could’ve sworn you through in there last night.

as soon as abby came out of her dorm, she froze. she couldn’t believe who was in front of her.

her eyes went wide as she gazed at you from her side of the hall.

be cool, abby, she thought to herself.

she couldn’t help but chuckle when she heard you curse under your breath.

“are you lookin’ for those?”

you jumped at the sudden sound of someone talking behind you.

you look back, surprised to see the hockey player leaning against her door, arms crossed, and with a sly-looking smile on her face.

she motioned toward to floor.

when your tilt her head towards where she was pointing, you saw your keys. they’d fallen by your feet while you were rushing to get to your class.

“oh! thank you!” you smiled, picking up your keys and locking your door.

“so uh.. where’re you headed? it’s pretty early,” abby asked, now stepping toward you.

“oh i have a psych exam- I HAVE A PSYCH EXAM!” you realized what you were originally rushing out of your dorm for in the first place.

looking down at your phone- 07:14 AM- it took you around 10 minutes to walk to the building in which your professor said to meet for the test.

“i’m sooo sorry, i have to go!” you quickly announced to the woman.

you were practically sprinting out the door before abby had any time to say another word!

but fret not! abby totally took a long glance at your ass before you were out the door ;)

perhaps if i feel like it, i'll make multiple parts to this cuz i really like the trope, but this piece didn't have that much to do with hockey itself :( BUT IDK YET!! lemme know guys.... 😰

[sagesbard]

I'm bored and it's like 2 am I got work in 4 hours but we ain't sleeping chat🔥🔥🗣️🗣️ so here's some Mouthwashing Head canons!

Captain Curly🎉

100% was a performing arts kid in Highschool either band or orchestra, probably played the viola or was in pit for marching band.

Only child but always wanted siblings.

Did college for 2 years then dropped out, he originally wanted to be an astronomy teacher but couldn't afford the tuition.

Back on earth he's a frequent gym rat. Not one of those annoying gym bros but he goes often.

Has a Scottish or some kind of accent.

He hates places that are super humid because they make his hair puff up like no tomorrow.

Smells like citrus and oak aftershave.

Anya🌟

She did theatre in highschool but was on tech crew.

Before pony Express she was a teachers aid for a kindergarten class. It didn't pay enough so she got on the ship in hopes it would pay for her nursing school.

She's an amazing cook. She can cook but not bake the last time she baked she burnt it so bad she thought it caught on fire.

I can't explain it but I feel like she has a small southern accent don't @ me guys.

Grew up in Tennessee she has three siblings she's the oldest out of all of them.

Both her parents worked which put her in a motherly role which is why it's sort of a default for her.

She sees Daisuke as a little brother.

Smells like the strawberry pound cake perfume from bed bath and body works.

Daisuke🌺

He had braces from 6th grade to his junior year of highschool.

He did art in highschool.

He got his Hawaiian shirt from his older sister when she went off to college.

He has one older sister.

He paints his nail occasionally.

A GOD at DDR (Dance dance revolution) and nobody can convince me otherwise.

100% worked at an arcade before joining the pony Express.

Sees Anya as an older sister.

His parents always asked why he couldn't be more like his sister.

He smells like the sugar sweet perfume from Victoria's secret.

No accent but he's from LA California.

Jimathan

Smells like axe body spray and sweat.

Doesn't wash his clothes until he can smell it.

Has had the same shoes for 4 years.

A firm believer in 5 second rule.

Only child but was okay with that.

Was never told no as a kid.

Hiiiii I hope y'all enjoyed this first run though of mouthwashing head canons! If you have any requests PLEASE drop me some. I'll do NSFW but I will not write NSFW for swansea or anything for jimmy. I can do platonic stuff for swansea just not romantic he looks too much like my dad guys :/ ANYWAYS I hope y'all have a good day/night be good people 💗💗

[icbgwy]

the way things go ꕥ riki nishimura

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⎯‎⎯‎⎯⠀⠀⠀⠀⋆⠀⠀⠀⠀ׄ⠀⠀⠀es oh es

y/n ! ( igtso ) 読み手

⋆⠀⠀⠀⠀ׄ⠀⠀⠀matsuzaki y/n, leader of sos and riki’s ex childhood friend who he cut off during the summer before their second year of junior high. she’s very indifferent to the whole situation, not looking back on the past as there’s nothing to change what she claim to be the inevitable. never tried to initiate a conversation with riki when around jake or minji. constantly being annoyed but jihoon and soyeon, occasionally jake but deep down she thinks his flirty banter is amusing.

[name] not y/n ( idgafsolider ) 読み手

⋆⠀⠀⠀⠀ׄ⠀⠀⠀matsuzaki y/n, her private account where she rants about her life and talks shit, will most likely get jumped if anything she said was leaked. the only three followers are her close friends— sunoo, sunghoon and shota. drops the mask of indifference and makes it known she’s a deeply emotional person to her friends, who never bring it up out of respect and to save her from future embarrassment and regret.

sunoo ( ksnwo ) 김선우

⋆⠀⠀⠀⠀ׄ⠀⠀⠀kim sunoo, y/n’s biggest fan and instigator. loves gossip, runs to y/n whenever he hears something he wasn’t supposed to or whenever someone tells him a juicy secret. he’s very popular among the student body for his sassy and outspoken personality but still sticks close to y/n. he’s very animated when around his friends, comically dramatic and expressive. others around think y/n and sunoo are dating due to how physically affectionate he is with her, but in reality they both were the first people they came out to.

sunghoon ! ( parksung ) 박성훈

⋆⠀⠀⠀⠀ׄ⠀⠀⠀park sunghoon, the last person to join y/n’s small circle of friends. he’s very protective of not only y/n but sunoo and shota as well as he’s considered to be the only “normal” one out of the four. he’s very wary of riki which most people chalk to up as sunghoon being riki’s rival in popularity and girls but in reality it’s due to riki’s past treatment towards y/n. dated y/n for two weeks then they realized how weird it was.

shota ( hksoul ) 白翔太

⋆⠀⠀⠀⠀ׄ⠀⠀⠀haku shota, only one out of the three to also be friends with riki before he switched up. y/n is his closest friend, he’s either seen by himself or next to her. prefers to keep to himself due to the language barrier. y/n’s smoking buddy as they both claim weed makes them better dancers and more sociable. tries to follow the student handbook but his autistic ass can’t help but end up in detention along side y/n who hates wearing her female school uniform.

s.o.s. ( es.oh.es ) エスオーエス

⋆⠀⠀⠀⠀ׄ⠀⠀⠀sos, a hip hop dance group created by y/n and shota beginning their first year of high school. the group was made due to the mandatory rule that all students must be part of a school club. sunoo, shota and y/n take it seriously as it’s something they love doing, sunghoon acts like the manager but in reality is a ghost member as every club must have a minimum of four members. it’s a win for everyone, the three get to keep their small club while sunghoon isn’t forced to participate as he’s extremely busy with his ice skating.

ִ ࣪ 𖦹 物事の進み方 ָ ࣪ ׅ

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notes: long ass introductions but anyways im trying cook right now just be patient please plus comment! i love seeing feedback and thoughts, i want to build a community!

summary: at the start of his senior year, riki nishimura notices that everything feels off—his basketball skills are slipping, and his usual charm with girls has vanished. desperate for answers, he follows his co-captain heeseung's joking advice and visits a local shaman. she reveals the source of his bad luck: major karmic debt. to regain his balance, riki must make amends for his broken and abandoned childhood friendship with the one girl who truly knew him, y/n matsuzaki.

tag list ( open ): @tasnemluvs @elegancefr @jiiyen @skepvids @enhypenlovre @mylettterstoyou @delirioastral @who-tf-soddhi @aespaqq @nat123c @nodoubtily @right-person-wrong-time @beijinkaoya @awhrin @ami-soph

[wonderjanga]

Marvel x Ship Edits

There are a lot of weirdos out there. People who ship adults and children. Sick weirdos.

Do you believe this wouldn’t spread to the DCU? See, I don’t think this would be too much of a problem in Fawcett because, you know, they’re still in the 60s a little. (Time Bubble) But let’s say tourists went to Fawcett. And among those tourist is a weirdo. Let me set the scene:

Marvel: *Minding his business, helping with the cleanup after a big fight with a monster.*

Weirdo: *Goes up to Marvel and taps his shoulder to get his attention.*

Marvel: *Puts some rubble down* “Oh? Can I help you, citizen?”

Weirdo: *Shows Marvel disgustingly detailed yaoi fanart of him and Adam.* “I- I drew this. It’s for you.”

Marvel: *Stares at it a couple seconds, processing before an absolutely horrified, terrified, disgusted, scandalized expression crossed his face. Literally turnes pale as a sheet. Slowly picks it up between two fingers and flies off with an absolutely mortified reaction before touching down in an alley, placing it on the ground, standing on it, and shazaming like five times to make sure its ashes have ashes*

Like two weeks later, and Freddy still makes fun of him for it. In fact, at the Watchtower, Freddy (as Junior) showed him another (albeit less graphing) fanart. There’s now a viral video of Captain Marvel falling to his knees in the middle of the hallway at the Watchtower, and letting out the most agonizing, pain-filled, scream of pure and utter anguish. He essentially recreated the pose below.

Bonus points if Adam sees this video and wants to find out Marvel’s “weakness” only to be met with the same images as Billy. (He’d pull the same pose, and let out the same scream)

[mochidoie]

the summer of us ☼

kim doyoung x reader wc - 8.6k genre - slow burn, fluff, slightly angsty, childhood friends to lovers, mutual pining warnings - kiss scene a/n - italicized sections are written as flashbacks, while regular texts correspond with the present

You and Doyoung reunite at your high school reunion. Him, just as he has always been. You, bolder but just as beautiful. Upon meeting again, the memories of the one summer you two shared during your college years resurface, along with the same romantic feelings that never had a proper ending. Will that summer love find its way back to your present?

The only people who show up to high school reunions are those who used to be popular and lonely individuals. It’s the people who reminisce about their glory days in the tight hallways and how everyone knew their name. It’s for the people who currently have no one back in their hometown and are looking to rekindle old flames or friendships. Doyoung was neither one of these, and yet, here he is standing in the middle of his old high school gymnasium amongst his past peers and barely making out familiar faces in this mood lighting.

There were predictable appearances: Johnny was King of the Field, wore his letterman jacket nearly every day of senior year until the leather wore out and crusted off. Mina was captain of the cheerleading squad, admired by many but envied by most. Jaehyun was the campus sweetheart, confession letters and gifts would flood out of his locker on Valentine’s day. 

They are all holding onto that piece of glory, making remarks on how they wish they could go back in time to experience it all over again. Nothing in their current lives gives them that same thrill. It’s sad and for a brief moment, Doyoung genuinely pitied them. 

Some unexpected faces took him by surprise: Taeyong was his lab partner for most of his projects, his mind was always on a creative tangent at such a young age. Yuta was the underrated soccer star, he was humble in his skill, but extremely competitive in everything he did. Haechan was that underclassman that never hung out with his own grade, but he could crunch numbers faster than anyone in the school.

And you. You, who walked in with a dress that fit perfectly and painted lips that curved into a sweet smile, a smile that Doyoung found himself wanting a glimpse of throughout the night. You were quiet and so much more timid back then, always trying to blend into the background of things.

Nonetheless, Doyoung had shared the same sentiments except an unlikely friendship with Mark really gave him a leg up in high school with the popular crowd. But, Doyoung always saw you and formed a silent camaraderie between the two of you without your knowledge. 

Why would you come? He didn’t understand. If it wasn’t for Mark’s insanely theatrical pleas to attend, Doyoung would happily be on his couch watching his reality dating shows. It seemed out of character and some could say the same for him. However, Doyoung didn’t actually know you well enough to understand your reasoning. 

Mark nudges Doyoung, “hey… who is that?” Gesturing toward your figure by the makeshift bar, Doyoung tries to think how to formulate your identity to Mark. Did Mark even know of your existence prior? Doyoung thought. 

“I think it’s… y/n?” He doesn’t sound confident, in fact, there is a slight quiver when he says your name. Mark confusingly stares at Doyoung and he can read his mind before Mark even asks.

“Who?” 

Rolling his eyes, he patiently explains. “Junior year chemistry. I’m pretty sure you two sat next to each other in class.” Doyoung brings his glass to his lips. 

Mark tilts his head, an expression of great pondering on his face. Unconsciously, Doyoung’s eyes follow you at every step. He is still trying to process seeing how much you’ve changed. 

“How did you remember something like that?” Mark laughs, biting the cookie he has been rolling between his fingers. 

Doyoung shrugs nonchalantly, “I had to stare at your big head the whole period and all the posers who tried to be your best friend during class.” It isn’t a complete lie, Doyoung did pay attention to his good friend during class, but only because he had to sit a few rows behind him.

He isn’t going to reveal the silent alliance he created between the two of you. The two quiet ones, navigating the world of high school in their own way and trying to graduate without a trace of who they were during those years. That’s what Doyoung wanted for himself.

“We should catch up, what do you say?” Mark suggests to Doyoung. You’ve made your way toward the center of the draped tables, trapped between Johnny and Jaehyun. Those two idiots probably have no recollection of who you are. “You can reintroduce me.” 

Doyoung scoffs, “you don’t need an introduction. You’re literally valedictorian Mark Lee.” The two of them make their way toward you. With every step closer, Doyoung’s throat dries up. If there is any need for liquid courage, it would be now. 

The truth is that Doyoung has exchanged several small conversations with you during your adolescence, so you two are acquaintances at best. However, there was one summer between the first and second year of college where the two of you ran into each other quite frequently. It was enough to where the two of you were actually friends, one could even argue more than that.

Doyoung always hated the heat that came with summers at home. It was partially the reason why he decided to go away for college in a city without changing seasons. Beads of sweat run down the sides of his forehead as he seeks air conditioning in a crowded gelato shop.

He had just finished an intense soccer match with Yuta. It probably was one of the worst decisions to do during the highest temperatures of the year. The copious amount of sunscreen has most likely melted off of his body with the amount of sweat he was producing and all his water dried up from sitting in the sun. 

He digs in his pockets for spare change for the sweet treat, not thinking how much he would be suffering from the hot weather. 

“I can help the next person.” A voice calls and Doyoung is frantically rummaging through his pockets for more bills. When he looks up, a familiar face shares a slightly shocked expression over the fridge counters. You call his name and instantly, Doyoung feels flushed at your great memory. 

Your name tag hangs crookedly on your apron and Doyoung recognizes it immediately. “Hey! It’s been awhile.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t have expected to bump into you.” Your giddiness warms Doyoung’s chest. He had forgotten how inviting you were the moment you would speak. Your features were slightly the same, but definitely a bit older. You weren’t wearing your glasses and your hair was neatly pulled into a ponytail. 

“I just came back for the summer.” Doyoung pulls out some loose change, damp from his sweaty hands. “When did you work here?”

“I started the summer after we graduated. I come back during the breaks to help out.” Before Doyoung could respond, a voice cuts the feverish reunion and reminds him he is holding up the line for gelato. 

You chuckle timidly to yourself, “anyways, what can I get you?” 

Doyoung, now pressured by the line of impatient customers, chooses his favorite mango sorbet before he could glance at any other options. When you ring him up, he counts his change in his palm and groans. 

“Ah, I’m short two dollars. It’s okay, I won’t get it. I’m sorry to waste your time.” Doyoung pouts, ready to hide under a rock for being a complete embarrassment the first time you are seeing each other again.

You grasp his wrist quickly, “Wait, it’s on me.” Placing the cone in his hand, you fiddle with something on the register and smile sweetly at him. 

Doyoung feels the world stop and can’t find the words to express his gratitude. “Thanks.” He whispers, deer eyes wide and mouth open. 

“No problem. It was good seeing you again, Doyoung.” You’re already trying to move on to help the next available customer, while Doyoung mindlessly blinks at the cone in his hand. It was really nice seeing you and he wonders to himself if there could be another chance. 

It’s a relief when Mark saves you from the conversation with Johnny and Jaehyun. He does so happily and cluelessly at the tactics of their flirting and lack of your identity. It actually almost comes to a shock to you that Mark remembered you, not that the two of you shared any conversation between one another during class. It isn’t until your eyes fall upon the other individual behind him. 

All tall and lean, Doyoung stands before you after all this time. The memories of that one summer together flash by in a millisecond and all the feelings come rushing back like adrenaline pumping through your veins.

Then, a mixture of disappointment and sadness fill your heart, gazing upon Doyoung’s stare, it’s apologetic. With Mark’s chirpiness in the way, you try your best to pretend that you and Doyoung had no prior affairs. 

“Wow, can you believe how long it’s been? My mom still talks about your valedictorian speech, Mark.” Doyoung can see right through you. The fakeness is full in your tone, like you’re trying so hard to convince everyone that you’re fine and after all this time, alright with seeing Doyoung. 

“Yeah, that speech. I swear I blacked out because I can’t even remember it.” Mark laughs, rubbing the back of his neck in a shy manner. “But how have you been, y/n?” 

“I’ve been good. Busy with work and enjoying life at the same time.” Keeping your answer vague, you direct your attention to Doyoung. “How have you been?” 

He is taken aback by the sudden shift, despite very clearly being part of this three way conversation without any contribution other than his presence. Clearing his throat, he begins with, “good. I’ve been busy with work too.”

Mark continues, poking at Doyoung’s arm to slightly tease him. “This guy became a workaholic after we graduated college. He is the first person I knew that got a job right away and has been slaving away since.” 

Doyoung feels embarrassed as his friend describes the lamest life that he has been living. He almost speaks up to defend himself or mention how all those years of hard work has earned him a golden plaque for his loyalty with the company. 

“That’s really impressive, Doyoung.” Your breathy compliment causes his heart to skip a beat. He looks at you, noting the sadness in your eyes. “I’ve been jumping around jobs for awhile. It’s been hard figuring out what I want to do with my career, sometimes I think back on how easy life was when I was scooping gelato.”

Gelato takes Doyoung back to that summer again. All the warm nights he waited for you to close up the shop, how your clothes would smell like sweet waffle batter, and you’d always come out with a scoop of mango sorbet just for him. All the nights he wished he was brave enough to kiss you. 

“Doyoung, you don’t have to wait for me!” Your smile doesn’t leave your face upon seeing him outside the shop, hands in his pockets and head up high watching the stars. At this point, it’s routine that the boy would show up five minutes before closing time and patiently wander outside until you were ready to leave.

You thought it was a coincidence to bump into him after one of your shifts, but he kept showing up. After a few times, you began to realize that he was intentionally waiting for you. Never questioning why, Doyoung walked you home every night as you two reminisced about the moments in high school or new memories you both had made in college.

Slowly, you two got to know each other very well. Doyoung told you about his dreams and you told him about your family. He knew your closest friends and your favorite memories about them. You knew facts about his brother and their upbringing, family traditions during holidays and vacations spent at the ski lodge despite not knowing how to ski. 

Occasionally, the two of you would stop by boardwalk and walk down to the beach. Doyoung would pat off the sand to the bench for you to sit beside him. You’d keep a respectable distance, with your hands in your lap and hair blowing in the warm wind. Doyoung’s eyes would sparkle along with the street lamps and you’d both be secretly enchanted by one another. 

These were the summer nights that you wished upon the moon and stars that Doyoung would kiss you. 

“You worked at the gelato shop by the boardwalk?” Mark asked, excited and completely oblivious to the can of worms he is about to open leading with that question. 

Chuckling, you glance sly at Doyoung. “Yes, it was my summer job. My sister knew the manager that worked there, so I’d help out during the summer when I came home.”

Mark lightly slaps Doyoung on the chest and he coughs at the sudden impact, jolting and nearly spilling the drink in his hand. “Doyoung used to rave about the mango sorbet at that place, didn’t you?”

Doyoung nodded. It comes as a confirmation to you that Mark doesn’t know anything that happened between you and Doyoung that summer. You’re all laughing awkwardly, Doyoung a bit more nervously than you and Mark.

“Yeah and he’d always say how it was his favorite of all time, that nothing could compare–”

“--Okay, Mark. I think we can drop the mango sorbet debate.” Doyoung firmly pats Mark on the shoulder to get him to please shut the fuck up. He couldn’t take any more of his friend’s clueless babbling, especially not to you about all the subliminal messages.

“It’s good. They make it in house, peeled over a hundred mangoes in the back every morning.” Speaking very matter of factly, your face is full of angst. 

Mark and Doyoung blink at you in disbelief. He feels bad about all the nights you’d get him a scoop, not knowing you practically worked away your life for it. “Wait, seriously?”

“No.” You laugh and your face lightens up, “that would be actual hell if I did. We had frozen mangoes with a premade syrup.” Doyoung forgot about your humor and how much he enjoyed it. He found himself laughing along, thinking about how melodic your sounds of happiness are.  

In the midst of your chuckles, someone calls for Mark from across the auditorium. He excuses himself and hurries joyfully over to another old classmate. The air instantly becomes suffocating between you and Doyoung. Without a third party there to ignore the elephant in the room, the two of you avert eye contact and stand stiffly. 

“So..” Doyoung clears his throat, unsure how to work around the awkwardness. “Why did you decide to come? I never thought I’d see you at something as lame as this.” 

“Are you implying I’m too cool to show up here?” He got you to relax a bit, earning a small chuckle at how he phrased his question. Your shoulders drop the tension that caused it to stick by your chin. 

“Of course.” You weren’t necessarily popular back in high school, so you had no reason to come back and gloat about the past. He isn’t sure about your current social life, but surely it isn’t lonely enough to want to come back and rekindle old ones, especially with these amateurs. 

“Well, I appreciate that thought. I had a feeling you’d be here.” Your eyes wander the floor, calculating your next words very carefully. While you had no idea how Doyoung feels about you right now, you wanted to test the waters. If it comes to be bad, then you can avoid him for the rest of your life. If it turns out well, who knows? There wouldn’t be another missed chance.

“Oh god, I’m so uncool that you’d expect me to show up?” Doyoung pretends to be offended, or maybe he actually is. You aren’t sure, but he holds his hand to his chest as if he is. “I’ll have to rebrand myself going forward.”

“No, no. It’s not you. I saw Mark tag you in the comments of the announcement post.” Peering up, Doyoung lets out an exasperated sigh at the fact that Mark was the culprit. He should’ve known that Mark basically announced their attendance via social media. “So, I figured you might show up.” 

“It is a hundred percent Mark. He dressed me himself and dragged me out the door to come to this.” He rolls his eyes and finishes his drink in one big gulp. 

Doyoung scans the room one last time at all the people that came to the reunion. To his surprise, there was a decent amount of attendees and everyone looked like themselves more or less. Everyone remained recognizable to a degree, but no one made an entrance like you did. 

Then, the conversation clicks in his head. Like someone turned the lights on in his head, he understands the intent behind your responses. You didn’t come to see him, perhaps? 

It is as if you could see the gears in his mind turn in real time. You smile and close the distance between the two of you. “I came to this lame reunion because I wanted to see you again.” 

And like that, Doyoung is brought back to the world stopping feeling he felt several years ago in that gelato shop, your hand on his wrist and a cone of mango sorbet in his hand. His eyes resembled a baby deer in headlights and his mouth agape. His heart is loud in his ears and pressure in his throat. 

He isn’t sure how he should proceed. Doyoung fumbled his chances with you long ago, at least that’s what he had thought. Barely processing your confession, he stammers over his words. 

“Want to head out?” 

A wide grin spreads across your lips, lifting your cheeks high on your face. “What about Mark?”

“He’ll manage.” Doyoung doesn’t even look for his good friend in the crowd, knowing that Mark was going to leave him for a random old acquaintance sooner or later into the night. This, however, was an opportunity Doyoung didn’t know he’d ever come across again. “I’ve waited long enough to have a chance like this again.” 

Your eyes light up at his statement, like a spark to a new flame erupting inside of you. Doyoung extends his hand for you to take and softly, you accept his grip and let him guide you outside of that dreary gymnasium. 

⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

“Did you know that Bethany had the biggest crush on you?” Kicking your feet in the air, you’re giggling at the silly high school secrets you had always kept to yourself. Doyoung shoots up from the blanket on the sand and turns to face you, utterly horrified by the new piece of old information. 

You had an early shift today and managed to catch the sunset with Doyoung. He had brought his picnic blanket for you two to enjoy the views right on the beach. The pink and orange hues paint the sky above you, faint sounds of seagulls in the distance and of waves crashing against the shore set the mood. 

You two could talk for hours, without a care in the universe and any concept of time. Doyoung is mesmerized by your perspective and way with words. You’re astonished by the wisdom and empathy Doyoung holds. From one quiet kid to another, you two sure felt comfort in each other. 

“Blonde Beth?!” Doyoung exclaims.

You sit up with him, matching the higher level of energy. “Yes. She was so into you!”

He blinks in disbelief, never thinking someone like Bethany would have a crush on him in high school. Not that he is any better now, but he isn’t sure how well he was perceived in his adolescents. “How did you know?”

“You’re always such a skeptic.” Your eyes watch the horizon. The round, golden sun barely hits the glimmering water. “I sat at the same table as her and her friends in math class. She talked about you quite often.”

Doyoung follows your gaze toward the sunset. He contemplates long and hard. “What a strange crush.”

Scoffing, you briefly glance over at him. There, Doyoung sits with his knees hugged to his chest and a look of deep thought. The sun kisses his skin so lovingly, highlighting his sharp facial features. The light breeze blows his tousled bangs over his forehead. Doyoung looks like he was chiseled by the gods, just absolutely unreal. 

It strikes you like a chord. In the midst of this summer sunset, you were falling for Doyoung. 

When he peers over and meets your eyes, something drops in the pit of your stomach. A sudden shyness accompanies your chest and it compels you to look away, but you remain locked in and lost in his starry pupils. You find yourself breathless, mouth open to speak but words caught in your throat.

Nonetheless, you catch yourself before it becomes suspicious. “W-Why would it be strange?” Gulping, your mind is running circles at your realization. 

“Because I swear she hated me. I would always beat her by one point in our exams and there was always a rivalry between us.” Doyoung ponders, barely able to make out the memories of the girl from his classes. He never acknowledged her enough to remember. 

He hears your chuckle, snapping his attention at you. “You’re so dense. She probably had an enemies to lovers type thing going on for you.” 

“A what?” Doyoung snarls.

“Enemies to lovers… like you hated each other so much that you ended up liking them.” Your voice grows small at the ridiculous explanation. You may have revealed too much of your personal interests and hobbies to a boy who only reads textbooks and self help books.

It was Doyoung’s turn to laugh, but right in your face at the silly description. “Is that something you like reading in your literature?” 

“Perhaps. I’ve already said too much.” You fume, laying back down on the blanket. Your back hits the firm sand with a thud and you close your eyes out of embarrassment.

“I’ll confirm with you right now that I’m more of a friends to lovers type guy. I can never hate someone so much that I end up liking them. My disdain for them would linger.” The blanket shifts a bit underneath you. When you open your eyes, he is hovering over you with a kind grin.

A veiny arm is situated by either side of your head. You nearly gasp at the sudden perspective of Doyoung above you, keeping your own arms close to your chest. Your heart races quickly, anticipating his next move. 

“You’re not trying to fall asleep on the beach, right?” He laughs, his chain slipping out of his shirt and dangling from his neck. “If you’re tired, let me walk you back.”

A rush of flustered emotions cascade over your weak body. Dizziness quickly accompanies your head, like the sight of Doyoung looking dreamily above you is enough to cause you to faint. You pat your hot cheeks, giving small slaps to wake you from this embarrassing feeling you’re experiencing over a friend.

Doyoung laughs at your gesture, oblivious to why you’re just hitting yourself. “Enough, don’t want you to hurt your pretty face.” 

Like a straw to a camel’s back, that is the last thing you’ll let yourself get ruffled over. Sitting up, you’re inches from Doyoung’s lips. He blinks at your sudden proximity and immediately widens his eyes.

Gulping, your breath dances softly on his cherry red pout. “Let’s go.”

He follows your lead, grabbing his blanket in a swift motion and dusting off the sand from the fabric. Nonetheless, you don’t wait around or help him. Instead, you’re already up on the curb and recollecting everything that just happened, all the feelings that had surfaced. Confused, but excited to feel your heart bursting with the rays of the summer sun.

 ⋆｡˚ ☁︎ ˚｡⋆｡˚☽˚｡⋆

“So, this is where you live. I remember requesting a tour for one of the units when it was in its developmental phase. I’m happy to see that it lives up to the pictures and that someone I know lives here.” You walk around Doyoung’s living room aimlessly, pinching at the cover of the couch, dusting your finger on the window shades, inspecting the ceiling fixtures. 

“You’re restless. Take a seat before you spot something that will cause me to hyperfixate.” He chuckles, patting the seat next to him on the sofa and placing a glass of water for you on a cute coaster. 

For a brief moment, you hesitate sitting so close to him. It wasn’t like all the ill feelings you held simply disappeared upon seeing him. There is still a part of you that didn’t forgive him, didn’t wish to be so friendly again.

Nonetheless, Doyoung had always been attentive and observant. He catches on immediately, scooting over to another chair that had a big stuffed penguin plush. Clearing his throat, he gestures to the spot once more now that he created a comfortable distance. “Why did you decide on another place?”

“It was closer to my ex at the time.” Your casualness catches Doyoung off guard, as he watches you finally take a seat. “He kept complaining about our commute to each other and I was in need of a new apartment fast, so it just settled that way.” 

Doyoung nods, like he understands despite not fully. He can’t imagine moving closer for anyone beside himself or going without a compromise from both parties. “Then, does your ex still live near you?”

“No, I told him to move far away so that I would never have to see him again. I’m all about setting boundaries.” The person Doyoung knew you to be would never have been that bold, would not have known how to set boundaries firmly. Like an ember catching a light, a spark appears in his eyes as he takes in your physicalities again. 

Now under proper lighting, Doyoung can really see all of you. The dress did more for you than he had noticed before, bringing out your confidence and kissing your skin tone. The satin on your lips is seductive, but saccharine paired with your smile. Voluminous curls frame your face perfectly and when he finally takes a long look at your features – he is astonished all over again at how beautiful you are. 

He clears his throat, “boundaries are important.” It’s all he can say while still enamored by your newfound confidence and looks.

“What about you? Have you been in any relationships since we last saw each other?” 

Doyoung tries to piece together his response delicately, mostly because he didn’t want to sound like a complete loner and corporate loser. Truthfully, after the summer together, Doyoung could not stop thinking about you. It was an endless cycle of wanting to reach out again, but he never found it in himself to do so. When you nearly fell off the face of the digital world, he tried to put his efforts into other people. 

Failing horribly, he couldn’t find anything remotely close to what you and he had shared in a few months. A connection so powerful and genuine, a fresh breath of air that filled his lungs every time he thoughtfully inhaled. A feeling that warmed not only his skin, but his heart that he no longer despised the hot weather. Doyoung found himself looking for you in everyone he met, only to be faced with utter disappointment when they were nowhere close.

With all his withered attempts at romance, he gave up. He settled on being alone for this portion of his life and didn’t desire that fleeting feeling of romance he had once felt. Because at the end of all his days, he’d come home to this empty apartment and pretend to be content with himself when he had lost the opportunity to be with you. 

So when he begins with his calculated reply, he mentally prepares himself for your reaction. “I haven’t. I’m married to my work.” His eyes flicker at your expression, trying to make out the sympathy in your pupils and dip in your frown.

“You haven’t changed at all.” When you examine Doyoung, he is just as you remembered him that summer. With his sharp features, quick wit, quiet demeanor and all of his dedication, Kim Doyoung remains exactly like how he had left you that temperate night.

He is all the man that you had fallen for and longed for in your present. It’s a bit sad all the times you would wallow in it — the crush that became undying on a man who only smiled brighten when you were around. A man who is intelligent, trivial, and hungry for success that he is willingly to dedicate his entire life to it. Yet, he is a man who is also kind, soft, and attentive to others around him that caring for others comes second nature to him. 

With the time that has passed since you two last spoke, you had wondered if he had changed to be more cynical, withholding his heart and laughter to those who tried to grow close to him or if he had opened up and shared his kindness to someone who is worthy of it. To your countless of painted possibilities, Doyoung had done neither and a part of you finds immense comfort in him all over again. 

Doyoung isn’t sure how to interpret your statement. Greatly puzzled, he tilts his head and asks, “is that a bad thing?” Swallowing the lump of spit gathered in his throat, he anxiously overthinks your implications.

Instantly, you note his change from relaxed to tense. His jaw is clenched as he crosses his legs, neatly folding his hands together and resting them on his lap. You’ve made him uneasy, but it only makes you chuckle at how unnerved he is. 

So when you answer him, he is vastly surprised and speechless. “No, I’ve always liked you the way you are.”

He ponders and lets the adrenaline take its course of action. Without another thought or hesitation, he matches your boldness. “You’ve changed.” 

The proclamation feels sudden, so much that it genuinely catches you off guard. There is a slight whiplash you experience with how quick Doyoung’s words hit you. Although there is no accusatory tone that lingers, there is some sense of self consciousness. 

“Is that bad?” You take his same words to use against him. Instead of feeling tense and perceived, you somehow feel defensive. All the years that you two haven’t encountered one another, you’ve worked hard to be the person you love now. 

You acknowledge how quiet and hidden you were in the past. The person that never wanted to be noticed, often wanting to hide behind their hair or clothes. You used to speak just barely above a whisper, scared that any louder would draw the unwanted attention of others around. Only spoke when spoken to, only looked up when tapped, that was just the way you were. 

High school was never a comfortable time for you, but wasn’t it like that for everyone? Seemingly awkward and unrevealing to who someone truly is. It had been a feeling that troubled you greatly, that you felt fearful to be too bold, too audacious. You couldn’t wait to graduate silently and move on from that version of yourself.

“No, no. It’s not bad at all.” Doyoung puts his hands up, waving them in a worrisome manner. He settles back into his seat, sitting back against the bouncy cushion and leaning his chin on his fist.

There is a brief stiffness in the air, like Doyoung had more to say. Watching his eyelashes flutter over at you, he eats you up under his long gaze. You shift oddly in your place, heart pounding in your throat and feeling slightly flushed under his spotlight. 

He speaks with a low voice, but it is gentle and firm. “I think I see you more clearly now.” His eyes trail down to your toes and back up to the curls that frame your face. An audible gasp escapes your lips, a lack of words fallen upon you.

With every second spent with Doyoung, it has slowly eroded away at the resentment and sadness you felt prior. You wish for nothing more than to be closer to him, to feel his fingertips dance across your hot skin. This is not a foreign feeling, but one that you knew too well. 

“Funny that you only see me now when I had been right in front of you for an entire summer.” Fumbling with your purse, you peer away from his sultry stare. The air in the room suffocates you, like a sticky humid day.

“You misinterpret my statement.” He is quick to answer. “I have always seen you. The person who tried so hard to fade in the background in high school, the person who was still trying to figure themselves in college, and now, the person you fully find yourself to be.” 

There is a heaviness that fills your chest, like guilt that you had held such a tremendous grudge after so long. Wallowing in your angst, you try to process his words thoughtfully. When you don’t say anything, Doyoung’s voice continues on and his heart fills his words.

“You know, I go back to that summer every year, just recalling and regretting.” Doyoung sighs, emptying his lungs into one breath. He finally feels ready to address the elephant in the room, the words he never said. With you as beautifully before him once again, Doyoung never dared to imagine this chance because he knew he didn’t deserve it. 

“What would you have done differently?” You seldomly ask. 

And when you glimpse up at him with glossy eyes, Doyoung’s confession pours from his lips effortlessly. “I’d tell you how you made me feel – seen and whole. Because I knew you saw me too and accepted me with all my flaws. It’s like you saw my soul and understood me for the person I was. Then, I’d kiss you, I’d kiss you like the world was ending.”

“Desperately and holding onto the last glimpse of hope?” Chuckling, your heart literally feels like it could burst any second looking at him. 

Doyoung stands up, taking small steps forward and closing the distance between you two. Making room for him to sit next to you, his knee radiates heat against your own. He smiles sweetly, “desperately, yes, but as if nothing else mattered than being there with you in that moment.”

Finally face to face, it feels impossible to resist each other’s aura. “I would like that.” Your eyes flicker from his lips to his pupils. His eyebrows raise slightly and like clockwork, the gears in his head are spinning at full force until everything clicks.

Without another thought or a second to lose, Doyoung pulls you toward him by your wrist and your lips land hastily on top of his. Staining him with the color of your lipstick, you’re gliding effortlessly. Immediately, all the romantic feelings from that summer flood both of your chests’.

Doyoung kicks the sand that loosely piles the boardwalk. His hands shoved into his shorts as his attention turned to the sound of your voice. This night between the both of you feels weirdly melancholy. It was a third of the way into summer and you were the only person Doyoung wanted to be around. 

Beyond the nostalgia, the family traditions, the dreams, there was one part of each other that you two never shared. All until he hears the drip of sadness in your voice, “you want to know something?”

“Of course.” When it came to you, he wasn’t sure if he had the power to say no.

The stars hang low and the moon twinkles at the highest point of the night. The chatter from the normally busy boardwalk has been replaced by sounds of waves crashing in the distance and all the shops have gone dark. The smell of sweet waffle batter lingers from your clothes and the chilly summer breeze blows at the strands of your hair. 

“I’ve still never had my first kiss.” It had been a long kept secret, feeling embarrassed that someone at your age hadn’t experienced a simple kiss. You had thought that the moment you entered college, everything was going to change and you were going to experience it all. 

However, the romantic in you wouldn’t allow it. In all the books you read, you only hoped for a magical kiss that swept you off your feet. One that deemed itself memorable, that would have you replaying over and over in your head. A kiss so full of passion that it would destroy you to pull away from.

“It’s nothing amazing.” Doyoung dully answers, noting the pout on your face the moment he says it. He immediately feels bad for damping the mood even further. “Sorry, that’s not what I mean.” 

“How was your first kiss?” You lay that million dollar question on him so innocently. 

He genuinely couldn’t even remember how his first kiss was. All he could make out was how sweaty his palms were and how he threw up right afterwards. “It was mediocre. I think it was with someone random at a freshman welcoming party. I had too much to drink and barfed on the curb right after it happened.”

The sound of your melodic laugh causes him to follow. “Hey!” He points, the reoccuring grin appearing on his face, “don’t you dare laugh. I shared that in secrecy. It was a very vulnerable moment for me.”

You hold your stomach from the intense chuckles, tears rimming your eyes. “I appreciate the vulnerability. It made me feel a lot better.” 

Amidst the robust laughter, Doyoung found himself wanting to be the reason behind your happiness. A burning sensation spread across his chest, intense enough to where he thought he might’ve had a bad sunburn. He peers over at your giggling figure again. 

Your mouth opened in a toothy smile, your cheekbones high up on your face. Under the dimly lit boardwalk, Doyoung’s heart races at how stunning you look hunched over and just doing something as simple as laughing. Joy matches you so well and he can’t seem to look away.

It’s like the wind knocked the air out of his lungs, but he falls breathless at the realization. Underneath the stars of this summer night, Doyoung was falling for you. 

When your laughter comes to a gradual stop, Doyoung snaps out of his internal confusion of these new blossoming feelings for you. He bids you a small smile, “what I meant to say was that first kisses don’t have to be the special one. All it takes is the right person at the right time. A kiss like that would trump any first kiss.” 

“You sure say that with a lot of vindication. Do you think you’ve experienced that yet?” Curious eyes fall upon him, you watch him like a spectacle and he grows nervous under your gaze.

“Definitely not. All I’ve experienced are wrong persons and wrong times.” It is a mindless thought he let escape and he doesn’t hope you read too much between the lines. He surely did not include you in that statement whatsoever. You had to be the right person, deep down somewhere he knew that. “Those are once in a lifetime moments, that's why I think they're so special.”

“I like that perspective.” You nod knowingly. “I hope to experience something like that one day too.” Your head drops to your hands, fiddling your thumbs at the thought of something so remarkable. 

Doyoung could kiss you right here. He’d pick up your chin and dive right into you. He’d give you your first kiss and something even more special. Nonetheless, his body remains stuck on his side of the bench. It’s as if he physically cannot get himself to do it, as if rushing into it wouldn’t be a good idea. 

He doesn’t know or understand why his body stayed frozen in place. As much as the desire to kiss you stirred within the pit of his stomach, there seems to be a barrier halting him from acting on it. Almost like his mind is telling him that this isn’t the right time, not yet.

Hands in your curls, Doyoung presses his face deeper into you. Both of your hearts pulse rapidly at the long awaited kiss. Your trembling fingertips brush his cheek and his knees grow weak at every inch you touch. Your lips dance together like they’ve known the steps this whole time.

Doyoung kisses you like the world really is ending, like the only two people who exist are you and him. It’s beyond romantic– it’s feverish, transcendent, and special. Kissing him has your feelings bursting into a chaotic, wild flame that only he can put out from this moment forward.

You kiss him like you’ve known him all his life and everything has led up to now, like the right person at the right time. This has been the kiss he has been patiently waiting for, growing for, all of this time has amounted to this one beautiful moment with you. You grip his arm, holding onto him tightly and afraid that he’d let go, that if your lips parted, it would completely destroy you.

Until you’re both gasping for air and joints in pain from the awkward position you’ve made your way in, the kiss comes to an end. Doyoung blinks with round, innocent eyes and puffy stained lips, truly stuck in a daze. His hair resembles a bird's nest, sticking out at random directions and clearly disheveled. 

You pull down the part of your dress that managed to ride up on your thighs, tidying the strands of flyaways around your face. When your eyes meet and shyly part, you’re both bursting into laughter and the steamy tension in the tiny apartment dissipates instantly. This is how it should’ve been. 

Your thumb smears the remaining lipstick that painted Doyoung’s lips, doing your best to wipe away the mess. He catches your wrist in the midst of it, “I’m sorry for ever hurting you in the past.” 

With your mouth agape, you’re unsure how to respond. With a long awaited kiss, came a long awaited apology, that is something that Doyoung knew well. You deserve every ounce of his sincerity and explanation. He gulps, anticipating whatever you may throw in his direction. Despite being full fledged adults, Doyoung feels as if he is back in his early adult years and still foolish when it comes to his feelings for you.

“I just never understood why you ran away, why you had so many excuses.” Reliving that memory has been painful, but less as time passed. It had been a tremendous part of your growth, even if it wasn’t something you wanted to experience.

The end of summer finally dawned on the two of you. Doyoung had been distant the last few days, but played it off as needing to pack for his trip back to college. You respected his space, but it would be a lie if you didn’t hope to see him waiting for you after your final shifts at the gelato shop.

All the bright days and breezy nights spent together were going to stay with you for a long time moving forward. Never did you think that you and Kim Doyoung would reunite and grow so close. Along with that, you never thought that you’d grow to like him so much. 

You’ve tossed and turned long enough. Now that Doyoung is leaving, you’d feel regretful if you didn’t let your good friend know at the very least how you felt. So, on the night before he makes his way back to school, he agrees to meet you on the pier for a goodbye.   

Doyoung is already leaning over the ledge, peering out into the dark waves in deep thought. He had been so conflicted the past few weeks, coming to the realization of his romantic feelings for you. He knew that meeting you again and growing close had that possibility, but he was unable to think that far ahead. He just wished to enjoy every waking moment with you. 

This summer with you had been a dream, one that he didn’t want to wake from. Now that he had to go, he didn’t know how to proceed. He had considered a confession, but what then? In the sheer chance that you reciprocate, he couldn’t give you the relationship you wanted. He couldn’t be there waiting for you after your shifts like he did here. He was going to be miles apart and so zoned into his studies. 

The internal conflict ate him alive, avoiding to see you on the last few days of summer you two had left. It was selfish on his part, but couldn’t let his feelings grow more to the point of recklessness. Doyoung could not afford to be reckless.

You come running toward him with a gigantic smile on your face, the one that makes Doyoung naturally grin back. He loves seeing you this way and his chest burns with an aching pain at the reality that awaits him. 

“Hey! How’s packing been?” You greet him, exasperated from the light jog. 

“I managed to finish a bit ago. I realized that I should pack more of the sweaters I left behind. It’s not as warm out there as it is here.” Doyoung shoves his hands into his jean pockets, the wind picking up the ends of his shirt and blowing lightly. 

“That’s good.” It’s all you could say before mustering up the courage to speak the real reason why you’re here tonight. Your eyes drift to the waves crashing along the shore and the footprints left from earlier in the day getting washed away. Your throat nearly closes, but you knew it had to be said. 

“Doyoung, I actually came out to tell you something important.” 

He chokes up, afraid to know and unprepared for what you were going to say. Nodding, he looks at you with a blank expression. 

“I had such a fun summer with you that I found myself growing to have romantic feelings for you. Do you feel the same?” Your confession evokes a sense of excitement and joy, Doyoung could do cartwheels. Nonetheless, they soon become squashed by the impending truths of reality. As much as Doyoung wanted to confess and tell you how he felt the same, he chose not to. 

Instead, he chooses to find a way to reject you. Dragging it out would be more painful than ending things between the two of you now. He thought this had to be the best option for your happiness. 

“I’m sorry, but I’m going away tomorrow.” He can’t answer your question because then he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from revealing all the ways you make his heart race and palms sweaty. He can’t hold onto a hope for the two of you to exist, knowing that the distance and his dedication to his studies came first. He wasn’t ready. 

Your smile drops immediately, being replaced with a frown. “I know, but we can work things out. You’re not too far–”

“I can’t do the distance. I can’t sacrifice the time from my studies.” Doyoung can see your heart shatter with every word and he doesn’t know how to help. His own heart crushed in his chest and nothing, but sharp pain reveals itself. 

“You can’t or you won’t?” You’re biting back tears. You didn’t expect the confession to go like this. Not that you expected him to reciprocate, but you didn’t think he’d chew and spit out your feelings like this. All this time, all his gestures, all his smiles, were they really not meant for you?

He says the same excuses again, which only frustrates you further. It didn’t feel like he was being honest with you, but he refused to give another reason. “I thought that this summer was special to us.”

Doyoung doesn’t wish to upset you more, so he says his last words to you before running off. “Summer is not enough.” You’re whiplashed by his cruel response, left speechless as you watch his figure dash off and down the pier. 

You’re left alone and staring at his fading shadow. A hole in your chest from your heart being ripped out and trampled on the ground. As a tear runs down your cheek, you think to yourself how Kim Doyoung is a coward, but how you are a fool to think that this summer meant anything more than it was.  

“Wasn’t it obvious?” Doyoung sighs, that memory haunting him like a nightmare. “I was stupid. Not only was I a coward, but I was thoughtless. I thought that if I ended things there, you wouldn’t be hurt in the long run.”

“Did you always plan to hurt me?” 

Doyoung snaps his head over at you, a ghastly expression on his face at your question. “Absolutely not. I-” He searched for the right answer, “I knew that I wasn’t going to be a good boyfriend to you if things continued. I was so imperfect that at the point of my life I was in, I was not ready to be the person you deserved. I wanted to give you the moon and the stars, believe me, but I was a boy who couldn’t even afford a scoop of mango sorbet.” 

“Doyoung, the boy I loved was imperfect, but he managed to make sunflowers bloom in my chest and feel as if I wasas loved by the sun. I wanted nothing more than to be yours that summer.” Your hand lightly clasps onto his. 

He tightens the grip, “again, I’m so sorry I so selfishly and idiotically ruined things between us, for making you sad. I only wanted to be the reason behind your gorgeous smile. I wanted to reach out all this time, but I couldn’t get over the guilt that built up after all this time. Why would you want someone who hurt you to come back into your life?”

You lifted Doyoung’s chin, bringing his focus back on your face. The connection is electrifying, like an instant buzz that fills your system with a simple look. The way that Doyoung looks at you is like a mesmerized, starstruck fool.

“You hurt me and it took a long time for me to build that bridge and get over it. However, after all these years, you’re all I could think about. That summer is all that floods my mind when I’m alone, that summer of us.” Your gentle words remind him of a softness he had forged a long time ago. A tenderness in your touch, in your gaze, in your tone is enough to break down his walls.

“I’ve wondered about you everyday.” He feels himself so easily drawn to you, so willing to open his pages for you to read. “And everyday, I wished I could get another chance. Would you allow me that? Another chance to be with you?”

It’s like the person you were from that summer awakens inside of you, longing and yearning to be Kim Doyoung’s. This entire night had been full of pockets of nostalgia seeing him again. Remembering, feeling, forgiving. But that question really solidifies that that young kid still lives inside of you, still wanting to love their summer crush as much as they did.

“Yes, I’d give you that chance in a heartbeat.” 

Doyoung kisses you again. And again. And again. For every moment under the summer stars that he wished to do so. Your summer love has found its way to your present. 

[notiddygothgf]

5. murderer

★ pairings: aki hayakawa x fem reader

★ ❝ I could devour you . ❞ ❝ Please. ❞

★ c.w.: smoking, smut, lots of filthy dirty talk omg. (more content warnings and tags)

★ a/n: HEY YALLLLL!!! im back again. its been a hectic week w college move-in and all. I'm a junior now but like I still get so overwhelmed omg. Anyway, as my premed studies will be bombarding me very soon, I wanted to get this chapter out. Sorry I left yall hanging!!!! This chapter follows the movie. Kinda. But I also went my own direction w it. Its SO DETAILED. it took me like two days to write it. PLEASEEE KEEP COMMENTING yall are so fucking funny. mom adores u all <3333. I HOPE YALL ENJOY THE FRUITS OF MY LABOR!! MUAHHHH

★ w.c: .7.6k

shameless ; chapter index

IT WAS YOUR WEDDING NIGHT. You stumbled through the door of your honeymoon suite, giggling like school kids. Your husband was in a suit, the tie loosened and his shirt slightly untucked. You were in a white reception gown, the fabric flowing gracefully around you, and your feet ached from hours of dancing.

As the door closed behind you, you leaned against it, your eyes meeting his. "This is really happening," you laughed, still high on the excitement of the day.

He grinned, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "Crazy, right? I've been promoted to "husband"."

You felt a rush of happiness at the sound of your new title, the way it rolled off his tongue. "And I from Miss to Missus," you repeated, savoring it.

He stepped closer, his hands gently cupping your face. "You look beautiful," he whispered, his voice filled with admiration. "I can't wait to get you out of this dress"

You blushed, feeling the warmth of his gaze. "Patience, dearest husband," you teased with a smile, reaching up to kiss him softly, "You have a whole lifetime to do that."

He pulled away, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Sit down," he instructed, gesturing to the edge of the bed.

Confused but intrigued, you did as he said, perching on the bed's edge. He knelt down in front of you, his hands reaching for your feet. 

"What are you doing?" you asked, a laugh bubbling up.

"Your feet must be killing you," he said, his hands carefully unbuckling your white high heels. "Let me take these off for you."

You felt a wave of tenderness as he gently slipped off your shoes, his fingers brushing against your skin. "You're too good to me," you murmured, watching him with soft eyes.

He looked up at you, his expression serious but loving. "You deserve it," he said simply. "I want to take care of you, always."

In a dimly lit room, the air thick with anticipation, Captain Hayakawa sat on the edge of a plush, luxurious bed in your hotel room, his presence commanding and magnetic. The faint aroma of his cologne lingered in the air, ambery, woody, warm, intoxicating. He took his time rolling the sleeves of his white button down up to his elbows.

With his legs spread wide, a subtle display of dominance, he beckoned you to approach him – gaze locked onto yours like a cat cornering a frightened mouse. He took a lazy pull from a cigarette, curling a finger toward you as if to say 'come here'.

You stood before him, a portrait of feminine allure, your small black party dress clinging to your curves. You knew your eyes mirrored the confusing mix of hesitance and excitement coursing through your veins.

This is really happening.

As you approached him, hips swaying gently from side to side, his eyes drank in every inch of you with evident hunger lingering behind his gaze. There was an unspoken understanding between the two of you, you realized. You both came here for one reason – one rotten, depraved reason.

His hand was warm as it glided up your leg and over your knee, stopping just as he reached the skirt of your dress. Nudging your shoe with his much larger one, he patted his chest.

Under his command, you lifted your foot from the floor and placed your heel on his chest. His hands, strong and confident, reached out for your ankle.

With a cigarette pinched between his teeth, he brought his face closer to the cold skin of your leg, warm breath causing your face to flush with heat. Slowly, tantalizingly, his lips made contact with your calf. The delicate graze of his lips against your skin left an imprint on your memory that you knew would never fade.

Your husband smiled up at you, sliding the shoe off of your foot. "This is all mine now, yeah?"

You smiled right back. "All yours."

The Captain's movements were calm and calculated, expert fingertips tracing the contours of the buckle on your heels. He made slow work of it, being sure to drag it out as he heightened the anticipation of what was to come.

Your skin was ablaze with the fire of your passion, your guilt.

As he slid the shoe off of your foot, his touch was gentle, yet possessive. His fingers lingered over the skin of your ankle just as the heel slipped off. He pressed another hot kiss to the inside of your shin.

Though your breath appeared to have been caught in your throat, you switched feet, allowing your inhibitions to fall away ever-so-slightly as you put your shoe against the fabric of his white dress shirt. Your heel hooked beneath the V-line he had left unbuttoned by mere coincidence, black leather standing out against his pale skin.

He repeated the same process, placing a gentle smooch to your tingling skin. With each searing kiss, he worked his way upward along your thigh, expertly navigating the fine line between temptation and restraint. The room was filled with a palpable tension, the air heavy with unspoken desires and the intoxicating scent of forbidden pleasure. He continued his ascent, keeping eye contact with you the whole time.

He's the fucking devil, you thought.

The connection between the two of you was both electric and dangerous, a dance of seduction that blurred the lines between right and wrong.

No, you had long since crossed that line.

As the second heel slipped off, the air grew denser.

In that moment, he took a pause, his hands gliding smoothly over your thighs, his touch leaving a trail of heat in its wake. The sensation sent a surge of electricity through you, heightening your senses.

"Come sit on my lap," Aki breathed, his words carrying a subtle invitation that held a promise of pleasure, cigarette dangling sinfully from his lip.

Feeling your core boil with arousal at the mere prospect of that alone, you knew better than to keep him waiting. So carefully, gracefully, you followed his instruction. You positioned yourself over his lap, lowering yourself down until his thighs met the back of yours.

He slid his hands over the small of your back, pulling you closer until your hips were flush against his. You gasped, breath caught in your throat, as you looked at him up close.

He was breathtaking. He had sultry, downturned eyes with dark lashes that feathered over his pale skin. His dark hair was disheveled, frizzy, messy from the rain and your fingers. You were drawn to the pink, plush, pillow of his lips – the subtle curve of his cupid's bow.

He was showing a remarkable amount of self-restraint.

For a moment, you doubted yourself, doubted if all of this was real. If you really were in a hotel room right now, sitting on another man's lap while your husband waited at home – some few hours away.

But the puff of smoke he breathed out in your face was anything but a figment of the imagination, pulling a cough from your lungs. You could get high off of him alone – his scent, his taste.

"You're so beautiful, you know that?" He mused, eyes scanning your flustered face.

Slowly, rather than awaiting an answer from you, he pulled the cigarette out from between his lips, popping it between yours.

You knew it was wrong.

But, still, you couldn't resist the temptation as you wrapped your lips around the stick and breathed in.

And you only coughed once, this time.

With a quiet laugh, he flicked the cigarette onto the floor below the two of you, smushing it into the carpet with the toe of his shoe. He was dangerous – just as drunk as you were, eyes half-lidded and hazy.

"Himeno told me to stay away from you," He smiled softly, slowly, like he was in a daze.

"You never have been good at listening, have you?" You teased. Your legs didn't touch the ground when they were thrown around him like this. He was so much bigger than you. "Why me? Why not someone your own age? Why not... I don't know... Himeno? She'd throw everything away for you."

Cupping a warm hand over your cheek, he pulled your face closer to his, breathing sin unto your lips, eyes burning holes into your soul.

"I don't want Himeno," Slowly, he leaned into you. His lips ghosted over yours, tempting you to breach the gap between the two of you – you submitted to his desires, allowing him to tilt your chin up and press your noses together. "I want you. More than I've ever wanted anything, I think – anyone."

His presence was intoxicating.

"And I've had my fair share," He mused. "You may have a few years on me, but I'm nowhere near as innocent as you think."

You shivered at his touch, which lingered at the base of your back. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," He spoke gently, voice teetering on the edge of a whisper, "But I know actions speak louder than words," His eyes, half-lidded and hazy, dropped down to your lips. "Want me to show you?"

"More than anything," You breathed.

He laughed softly, eyes creasing at the corners. "Think you can handle me?"

Ignoring the warmth that churned in your gut, you flipped the question around on him. "I could ask you the same thing," you teased again.

You were barking a lot for someone who was most definitely not going to bite.

"I know I can. And I will," Was his response. His thumb had begun toying with your lower lip, tugging on the soft pink skin like he was testing his limits. His eyes weren't on you as he spoke – they were trained on the flushed skin of your nose, the parted valley between your plush lips. "And I can tell you exactly how I plan on doing it."

"Tell me, then," you humored him.  You found yourself lost in this little game of cat-and-mouse that the two of you were playing, eyes dancing with desire.

He was close. So close, you could almost taste his lips as they hovered over yours.

"I'd lay you down real gently first... start kissing up and down your thighs," He purred. On cue, his thumb began to stroke the soft skin of your thigh. His eyes never left you, stirring up something you had never felt before. "Tease you 'till you're begging for me, dripping for me."

Your mouth was watering just thinking about it. Thinking about the way his lips would feel against your mouth, your neck, your thighs, your...

"Yeah?" You swallowed, suddenly feeling very small now that he was backing you into a corner like that. "Then what?"

"I'd eat you for dessert. Make you cum once for every time you walked away from me," His tone was absolute. You believed every word he was saying. "Wanna put those pretty legs of yours around my neck 'n fuck that attitude right out of you. You want that?"

"Mhm," You pleaded, mind a hazy mess. Your eyes practically had hearts in them.

This was going to be a very bad decision.

He smiled softly, though his words bore a sharp edge. "Not gonna run from me this time, are you?"

You felt your cheeks burn at his provocative inquiry, desperately trying to ignore the warmth that throbbed between your legs – a warmth that was pressing right up against him. Your words came as a quiet murmur into the small gap between your lips and his, "Promise."

And it was as if, for a brief moment, everything fit into place.

The air was charged with the weight of your words. A smile danced across his lips very briefly before he finally closed the gap between the two of you, lips meeting in a sinful dance that was gentle... at first.

His hands explored the low of your back, holding you by the curve of your waist and holding you close to him. He tasted like nicotine and mint, a flavor you wouldn't forget, tongue exploring you like he knew what would have you fiending for him.

The room seemed to fade away as you melted into him. There was no suite, no bed, no clothes between the two of you. In that moment, it was just you, him, and the dim light from the lamp on the dresser behind you.

He nipped playfully at your lower lip, a sensation that made your shudder against him. His touch on your back was warm, tender, possessive. You never wanted him to let you go.

He deepened the kiss ever-so-slightly. You responded in kind by moving your fingers from his shoulders to his neck, to his razor-sharp jaw. Up to his head, to tangle them into his topknot, to pull the hair tie out and let his hair fall down to his shoulders.

The kiss was slow, tantalizing, pulling you apart at the seams until you were begging for more.

He departed from your face to press kisses to your jaw. They were hot, wet, just enough to make you arch into his touch. He took your responsiveness as a sign to continue his onslaught, warm kisses cascading down the valley of your neck, pausing only when your lips parted to release a quiet whimper. His lips formed a light suction, tugging at your sweet spot until you were clawing at his back.

He huffed out a short laugh against your hot skin, "Getting sensitive already?"

You grumbled embarrassedly, keeping your face buried in the warm crook of his neck and breathing in more of that intoxicating scent of his.

Before you knew it, he stood up, hooking your legs around his waist. With a gasp, you threw your arms around his neck. He turned the two of you around. Slowly, he set your body onto the mattress, as if he were scared he would break you.

"Hayakawa," You breathed, allowing him to continue pressing kisses against your skin.

He chuckled, the sound surprisingly deep, "I thought we were past first-name basis."

"Aki," You repeated with the slightest smile.

"Mmh," He hummed, placing his lips over the junction between your neck and your clavicle and sucking on the sensitive skin. He paused – only briefly – to mutter, "Sounds pretty when you say it."

It was getting hard to focus; his words had become hazy, distant. All you could think of was the feeling of his mouth on your neck. The tight seal he had formed over it, touch blistering hot against the bare skin of your thighs.

"Mm... Aki," You sighed blissfully. Quietly, you hiked the hem of your dress a little further up your thighs, granting his curious hands access to a little more of you. In response, he sucked harshly on your neck.

It hurt so good. You arched up into him. "Aki," You whined. "Please."

In an instant, he pulled away, leaving you cold and vulnerable. He stood above you, an image of lust, cheeks dusted with rose, the same color he wore on his parted lips. His hair hung in his face, just barely obstructing his pretty eyes from you.

You wanted him to tie you down and command you, to tell you what you needed to do. You wanted him to dominate you until you didn't have another thought. You wanted all sorts of things that you knew you had no right to want.

"We can change it up, if you want, too," He purred, voice low and daring. "'Sir' works just fine."

"Mhm," You pleaded, mind a hazy mess.

"You like that better?" He smiled softly down at you, words bearing a sharp edge despite his outward appearance. "What do we say when we want something?"

"Yes, please," Your face burned with the heat of your embarrassment. You didn't care. You loved the feeling of giving up control for a moment, letting him take the reins. "...Sir."

The nickname made you flush with embarrassment.

"You know, I hear people call me that all the fucking time," He said, shaking his head. He walked towards the bed, kicking your legs open with his heel. He licked his lips, raking his hungry eyes over your trembling body. "But it never sounded as good as it does now, coming from you."

You were literally going to explode and melt into the carpet.

"Back that ass up on the bed. I want you to get yourself ready for me," He asked. His tone was so soft, so polite, that you almost mistook it as a question rather than a command. "Want you to show me how you wanna be pleased. Can you do that for me?"

You crawled back onto the bed, keeping your head down to shield yourself from his eyes, and gently running your hands up your smooth legs. "Okay," You breathed, words a notch below a whisper. "Yes."

"Yes, what?" He asked, watching you reach beneath your lacy black panties and collect some slick onto your fingers, reaching up to palm your tender breasts with the other hand. On the outside, he was composed, calm, as if he had been looking down at a stack of papers instead of you. You could see right through his disguise, a hungry animal clawing for release behind his pretty blue hues. He looked like he wanted to eat you up.

You knew what he wanted. You didn't keep him waiting.

"Yes, sir," You licked your lips.

For a moment, you relished in the way he melted at your words.

He sat on the edge of the bed to watch you, reaching up to loosen his tie. "So fuckin' perfect," He purred, voice a symphony of sin. "So well-behaved. You have no idea how long I've been waiting to see you like this."

His praise was turning you on like crazy. You shuddered, sliding a finger through your warmth and putting pressure on your aching bud. You rolled your thumb over your clit in a slow, steady, circular motion.

He looked like he had been hypnotized.

He crawled over you, caging you in, pressing a kiss to your neck. Then to your clavicle, then to your sternum, your ribs, your stomach...

"I want you so fucking badly," He murmurred against your skin. "I could devour you."

You whined, "Please."

He lowered himself down a little more, kisses trailing down a little further. Finally, he came back up for air, sealing your fate with an open-mouthed kiss.

His lips fit perfectly against yours, smearing your lipstick down your chin and across your face. It was Heaven. It was Hell. It felt like a daydream. It was raw, primal, borderlining on animalistic, but you would be lying if you claimed you weren't panting against him like a bitch in heat.

He shifted his knee between your thighs. It chafed against your sodden panties, eliciting a quiet whimper. It was so quiet that you had been foolish enough to hope he hadn't heard it.

"Fuck me," he panted. An idiom, of course, but at that point you would have taken him up on his offer. He glanced up at you, eyes dark and pupils dilated.

Without another word or a warning, he went in for your neck again, this time biting the flesh and sucking on it – right where he knew you liked it.

"Tell me to stop," He detached himself from your neck for a moment to groan at the sight of you, desperate for his touch. He was losing himself, you could tell. His breath trembled under the weight of his arousal. "Fuck, tell me to stop right now, or I won't be able to stop myself."

Aki rested his forehead against yours, practically panting against your face. "Tell me you don't want me the way I've been craving you."

You knew you should refuse him. You knew you had to. But for some inexplicable reason, you couldn't bring yourself to do it. To claim you didn't want any of this would have been lying to yourself. But at the same time, it wouldn't be right to cheat on your husband.

The same husband who had taken you away from your ambitions so early to hide you away behind his white-picket-fence dreams?

"I..." you paused. It was hard to think. The scent of his cologne combined with the feeling of his body pressed right up against yours was driving you up the fucking wall. Your head was getting foggy, and it wasn't long before you felt your resolve crumble. You snaked your hand around his tie, fiddling with it and bringing your eyes to meet his gaze.

"Do you take this man to be  your husband, to live together in holy matrimony, to love him, to honor him, to comfort him, and to keep him in sickness and in health, for better and for worse, until death do you part?"

"I do."

He awaited your response, awestruck blue eyes glazing over with the haze of his own need. He never proceeded without your consent.

"I do," you finally admitted. "I want you."

You had never seen him like this before. He had lost his composure altogether. The man before you — shuddering against your body — was not the same man you thought you had known. He was depraved and sinful and a complete 180 from the Captain Hayakawa you'd been introduced to on the train — a man so calm and composed.

"What are you waiting for, then?" You dared to ask.

A mere two seconds later, he made you eat your words. He nudged your legs apart before smoothly slipping between them. He never once broke eye contact, not until he stopped to hoist your legs over his hip and slide you closer to him. He was right up against you at this angle, and you found yourself instinctively grinding your hips against his, desperately seeking some semblance of friction. It had been years since you were last touched like this.

He leaned back, undoing the rest of his shirt buttons. You held your breath as the fabric slid off of his broad shoulders, pooled at his knees on the bed. His skin revealed years of experience, chiseled physique marred with pink scars. His muscular arms tensed, rippling when he replaced his arms on either side of your head, caging you in.

Your mouth was practically watering at the sight of him. One night. One night wasn't nearly enough for you to do everything you wanted with him.

It seemed it wouldn't be enough for him, either. The moment he had wrangled the tie off of his neck and tossed it onto the sheets, his lips were back on yours.

His hands worked on your dress – one sliding gently beneath your back to tug the zipper down while the other peeled the straps off your shoulders. Once he had the dress pooled around your waist, he sat back, slipping it the rest of the way off of your legs. The sudden chill of the cold air against your now bare breasts, your stomach, your legs, made you shiver.

For a moment, you were staring up at the ceiling, trying to catch your breath. In a moment's width, he stepped between your legs and ran his hands up and down your exposed legs. They stopped around your hips. His eyes traced the curves of your body right down to the heat between your thighs.

"You look divine," He hummed, stopping to just stand there and take you all in. He wasted no time in tracing his thumb over the damp fabric at the apex of your heat, "I'm gonna take these off, okay?"

Then he was pulling them down, away from your warmth, down your legs, over your toes – he tossed them behind him. Hooking one of your legs over his shoulder, he asked you, "Ready, baby?"

"Yeah," You giggled. There was another man between your legs, and you were giggling, "Ready as I'll ever– Oh!"

During your attempt to humble yourself, Aki slid his middle finger inside of you. He curled it upward, feeling around you in a way that had you keening for more. In another movement, the finger was gone, leaving you feeling empty and needing more.

You raised your head off of the bed, resting your weight on your elbows while you struggled to get a good look at him.

He brought his finger up to his mouth and then licked it clean. "So sensitive," He hummed in satisfaction, hardly giving you any time to recover before teasing it over your entrance. "Poor thing. Trembling after just one finger. I wonder if you'll even be able to hold up long enough for me to eat you out."

You were embarrassed, oddly enough, and dropped your head down to cover your face with your hands. He couldn't be real. There was no way this was real. It was too good to be true.

"Fuck, " you stammered. It was getting hard to form coherent sentences when he was teasing you so languidly. "It's been a while– hah–"

Aki dipped his finger into your waters, sucking in a sharp breath at the way you gripped him. He was only one knuckle deep. All things considered, his fingers were pretty long.

"I wonder how much you can take, hmm?" He teased, pressing them further into your heat, massaging your walls, fucking you open slowly.

You raised a worried brow at him. "What do you–" Your sentence was broken by a startled gasp as he bent down, ran his flattened tongue across your cunt. "Oh fuck, Aki."

"That's not my name, is'it?" Aki groaned, although the sound was muffled due to the fact that he was buried nose-deep in your pussy. From here, you couldn't see much more than the crown of his head, the black locks that brushed over his face.

He sucked gently on your clit, a sensation that made you arch your back off of the bed. His tongue was long and pointed, and was just the right size to slide sinfully into you like it was meant to be there all along.

"Ah! Sir, please, I–" You pleaded with the man. Your hand found its way to his head, gripping his inky locks like your life depended on it. In a matter of seconds, he had single handedly reduced you to a babbling mess. "Mnnnh-"

He was answered with a gasp and a desperate rut of your hips against his mouth, against the vibrations of his satisfied hums, and did nothing to stop you. Instead, he allowed you to shamelessly ride his face.  Your legs clamped shut around his ears. He huffed a satisfied little laugh before prying them apart and continuing to make a ruin of you.

Although he had to pull away for some air – replacing his tongue with two digits – he continued lapping at your clit. He ate you up like he was a starving man, obscene sucking and slurping noises filling the room soon thereafter.

You could hardly breathe, but fuck, you wouldn't mind dying like this: with a pretty Devil Hunter squished between your thighs, your juices smearing all over his face while you forced his tongue deeper inside.

"Fuck," he breathed, and you knew he shared the sentiment. "You're purring like a fuckin' kitten for me."

You pulled his hair, and were shocked to find him arching into it. One more experimental tug, and you knew you hadn't been hallucinating. The sinful little moan he let slip out was by no means a coincidence. You wanted to comment on it, but what came out after he slipped a third finger in and curled it up against your sweet spot was a string of broken moans. "Please!"

"Please what?" He paused his desperate licking to ask. His fingers never stopped, plunging themselves deeper within you and curling up against that spot he knew drove you crazy. He was in perfect tune with the rhythm of your body. Every arch, buck, or stutter of your hips spurred him on. Teasingly, he rubbed your sweet spot with his fingers. "You want more, pretty mama?"

His fingers were so long – so much larger than yours, than your husbands, even, and you felt your eyes rolling into the back of your head before you knew any better.

The coil in your gut was drawing tighter and tighter. He was reaching deep inside of you and undoing you from the inside out like the lace strands of a tightly wound corset. You wanted more. No, fuck, you needed more. But in all honesty, you weren't sure you could take any more. If he got any more creative, you would undoubtedly end this fantasy too early. The brutal pace of his long, slender fingers was making your mind go blissfully blank, slurred words and broken moans pouring out of your mouth a mile a minute as you struggled to hold on.

Aki kissed his way back down to your thighs. In a moment's width, his tongue had joined his fingers once more in making a mess of you.

You gasped. "Fuck, please, 'm gonna cum."

His lips departed from your dripping wet pussy, but only to roughly slide your ass closer to his face. Then, completely disregarding your previous pleas, he quickened his pace. His hair was beyond disheveled, tangled in your fist while the rest hung, dampened with sweat, around his face. "Beg for me again," He groaned, the sound muffled by your trembling thighs. You were shaking like a leaf in an autumn breeze and he was relishing in it. "Keep begging for me just like that, baby."

"Please..." You gasped. You yanked his hair, and then trapped his head between your thighs. The moans – increasing in pitch – were falling out of your mouth uncontrollably now.

Call me the Phantom of the Opera. He had taken you past the point of no return, to the point where broken pleas of his name were the only thing coming from your lips. "Please, sir–"

Aki moaned against your clit, drunk off of the taste of you.

What would your husband think? What would he think if he knew that his wife was letting herself be devoured by a man in uniform (well, he was out of uniform now.) – begging for his fingers, his mouth.

He gasped at the sensation of your fingers gripping his tresses. Your guts were clenching around his tongue like you wanted more.

The sheer power this man had over you was near absurd. In a span of a few hours, he had gotten you to completely abandon your morals. Not only that, but he had you rocking your hips back on his fingers like a desperate whore, chasing that sweet sweet release you so desperately craved. But you couldn't. Something in the back of your head – the more sensible voice, undoubtedly – refused to allow you such satisfaction.

When you slapped your hand over your mouth to keep yourself quiet, he grabbed your wrists, pinning them to the bed above your head. He reached for the tie at his foot, pulling it taut, then using it to bind your wrists together.

Fuck me.

"Much better," He tutted, glancing at you with such feverish hunger that it made you squirm. "Let me see that pretty face. Tell me who's making you feel good, baby."

You needed to stop this before it was too late. Desperately, you stumbled to find the right words. What came out, whatever, was a broken cry of  "You."

"Who's You?" He hummed.

It slipped out. Truly, you had never intended to let it slip. Yet, still, when his fingers curled up against a particularly sensitive spot with all of the ease of a harpist plucking at the strings of your core, your lips spilled praise of his name, digging your nails into the skin of your palms, "Aki–!"

"That's it. Such a good girl for me." He knew it would only be a matter of time before he got what he wanted from you, so he removed his lips from your clit, allowing his fingers to work you open while he smiled breathlessly – an obscene mix of your juices and his spit glistening as it ran down his chin. "G'nna cum for me?"

"Wait– no," You gasped. "I–"

"What's the matter?" He asked. The drag of each of his knuckles against your hypersensitive walls as he fucked you – albeit much gentler than before, as if easing you down from your high – made you clench around him, "Do you want me to stop?"

"No," You panted. Not knowing how else to sugar coat the words – and being, frankly, too exhausted for formalities, you cut to the chase. "I need you to fuck me, Aki."

He froze suddenly, wild eyes peering into yours like he thought you would never ask. "Yeah?" He replied, breathless. "Right now?"

"Please, sir..." You teased him. "You won't keep a needy woman waiting, will you?"

He slid his fingers out of you slowly, savoring the way you clenched around them one last time before pulling out. He sucked the slick of your arousal off of his fingers. God, you would never forget how he looked right now. His face was messy, as was his hair. His eyes, wild with hunger, never broke contact with yours while he lapped up your juices like they were fresh fucking honey.

"Wouldn't dream of it," He shuddered, pushing himself onto his knees and then reaching for the buckle of his pants. You knew where this was going, yet you didn't stop him. "Thought you'd wanna take it slow, is all."

You grinned, sitting up just enough to slide your bound hands over his thighs, over the prominent tent in his black slacks, "How about you think about taking these off."

He huffed out a laugh, but removed his hands, allowing you to fiddle with the buckle of his belt until it came undone, allow you to pause for a moment – peering up at him with nothing but the purest form of adoration – before pulling them down with his boxers.

It was a real talent, being able to do that with your hands tied.

His body was the image of perfection – lean, sharp-cut, with washboard abs. To top it all off, he was big. By far the biggest you'd been with thus far.

I knew he was hiding something, You traced your finger mindlessly over his navel. The man twitched beneath your touch.

When you grazed your knuckles over his erection, he let out a pent-up gasp that turned into a breathy chuckle. "Ah, fuck– hah."

"Do you..." He trailed off, "Do you have protection?"

You thought back to the grocery store, when you had passed the wall of condoms and thought to yourself, There's no way I'll be needing those anytime soon.

And you mentally kicked yourself.

"No," You sighed. "But it's okay, I'm on birth control."

You said nothing more. There was nothing left to be said. Instead, you threw your tied wrists over his neck, pulling him in for a kiss. There was something different about it, this time, as he positioned himself over you – something far more serious. This was really happening.

He pressed a kiss to your neck, to the shell of your ear, "Tap me if it hurts, okay?"

You nodded, bracing for the worst. You could feel him throbbing against your entrance, gathering slick onto the head of his dick like he was trying to prepare himself.

Then, without another warning, the tip pushed in, and you gasped – wrapping your legs around his back on instinct. There was only the slightest amount of restriction before the new angle had him slipping the rest of the way inside.

"Easy, baby," He warned you, not even daring to move. He gave you a moment to adjust to him, even if you know the temptation was chewing him up inside. "Easy."

Once he was fully seated inside of you – leaving you feeling deliciously full, the both of you sighed in tandem, pressing your sweaty foreheads together.

After a moment of recollection, he looked down at you inquisitively, as if to say, 'Can I move?'

You nodded slowly, nerves still on fire with the ache of having him in you – the stretch of it all. But the moment he drew his hips back ever-so-slightly, and then slid back in, you felt it begin to subside. The pain was replaced with a pleasure so warm that it made your legs tremble.

If this is wrong, you thought to yourself, gasping as he repeated the shallow thrust a few more times. Why does it feel so good?

The forbidden fruit in question squeezed his eyes shut on top of you, forehead wrinkled, pretty, swollen lips parted to release the most delicious groan of, "Shittt–"

You could feel him. All of him. You ached at the sensation of him splitting you open so suddenly, pussy clenching down on him for dear life. You could feel the way his length stretched your walls, the tantalizing burn bringing your eyes to a water while you threw your head back.

"Aki," You sighed weakly.

"I'm here," He replied. "I got you."

Then he was slipping in a little deeper, thrusting a little harder, sheathing his dick in the entirety of your warmth. You tried without success to wrangle your hands out of their confines, eventually settling for digging your nails into the skin on his back.

"Fu-uck," He sighed, like he had been waiting his whole life to be buried so deep inside of you. He leaned forward, into the temptation of your soft body, rolling his hips downward. "Feels so fuckin' good, baby."

"Mmmh," You laid your cheek on the bed. You felt your eyes roll back when he slid even deeper into you – You could feel him deep in your guts.

This is bliss, you thought.

Then, suddenly, he leaned back, pulling your hips flush against his abs while he thrust into you. The new angle had you trembling, gasping as you fumbled for his hand (again, in vain, as you were bound). You could do nothing but wrap your arms around him, curl your toes, press kisses onto his shoulders and the back of his neck.

Your mind was blank, legs trembling, chest heaving.

"Yes–" you breathed, gripping onto his thigh for support. With him moving so deep inside of you, it was hard to think about anything else but him. "Fuck, right there."

He rolled his hips into you, the new motion sending stars shooting behind your eyelids. Before you could even make sense of what you were feeling, you arched into his touch.

He laughed – though it was something between a chuckle and a groan – as he pressed a kiss to the crook of your neck. His hand slid up the front of your torso, up over the curve of your breasts and pressed into your throat, holding you still while he fucked into you good and hard.

He pulled back to look at you, to really look at you, deep blue hues raking over your bare skin, over your curves and edges and imperfections.

You wished you could paint him like this, burn the image of him into your head so that, upon your return home, you would never forget about him, about this night.

He looked prettier than sin.

He pushed in again, and you gasped, clawing at his back desperately. Your heart was racing a mile a minute – any moment now, it felt as if it would explode. Your stomach did somersaults, face burning up.

His palms slid over the back of your thighs. He gripped them, throwing your legs over his shoulders. Then he leaned over, pressing into you until your legs were pinned against the sides of your head. His hips drove into you, deeper this time, like his life depended on it – like he would die if he pulled out.

Over, and over, and over again.

"Fuck me!" You cried. Your grip on his shoulders was unwavering, nails biting into his skin and dragging down with every thrust.

He licked his lips with a deep, guttural moan that went right to your core. "So good. Shit– so fuckin' good."

It felt so mind-bogglingly good. You didn't even know how to make sense of it. Your mind was so full of him – as you were, quite literally – that you couldn't think of anyone else.

"Too much, too much," You panted. Still, you did nothing to stop him. It hurt real good, made your back arch off of the bed. "Fuck, 's good–"

And your words seemed to spur him on, pinning your legs down while he pounded you into the bed. You could do nothing but scream for him, cry for him, beg for more with drunken, mindless babbles.

He leaned down, soft hair tickling your face, and licked your lips. You opened up for him immediately, tongue slipping against his.

You weren't only imagining the feeling of him massaging your g-spot, driving his hips deeper and deeper until your voice was hoarse from all of the screaming. It was real.

He pulled away from you to breathe, and he didn't even seem to care that you were scraping his back red. His brows were drawn close together, eyes squeezed shut like it was taking everything he had not to cum.

He gripped you by your chin, fingers digging into your cheeks, and turned your attention back to him.

"F-Fuck, Fuck," You whined, head dropping back onto the pillow.

"Taking me so well," He moaned, pulling away to sit back on his knees, using your legs to drag you closer to him. Though he was speaking to you, his eyes never left the junction between your body and his – the place where he disappeared inside of you over and over and fucking over again.

He sat you upright in his lap, throwing your legs around his waist. From there, he gripped the meat of your ass, thrusting up into you from a new angle.

You practically sobbed for him, gasping and heaving like a wild animal.

"Oh, God, I've done it," You cried out against his lips, "I can't turn back now. You're all I've got left."

"Yes," He answered, pitch teetering on a whine.

"You murdered my happiness– our happiness," You added, breathlessly, of course. "This is the end of everything, isn't it? Murderer."

"You are my happiness," He panted, licking a stripe from your clavicle to your jaw.

"Oh, fuck–" You arched your back, eyes rolling with bliss. "Murderer–" You moaned, "Murderer!"

The knot in your stomach was about to snap. You could feel it.

"Murderer!"

"Yes–" He breathed.

You were gasping for air, gasping into his mouth in between those sinful, messy, open-mouthed kisses. You didn't know what to focus on – it was all too much. Your arms, bound behind his back, prohibited you from holding him close.

"Don't stop–"

"I won't."

Still, the sensation of him having your whole life in his hands...

It was something you never would have entrusted your husband with.

You tangled your fist in his hair to the best of your ability.

"Ah–!" He whimpered – it seemed as if he wouldn't be far behind you in your journey, "Fuck, yes!"

"Don't stop," You cried, gripping his shoulders a little harder and gasping into his mouth. You bounced on his lap, meeting his thrusts to the best of your ability, desperately chasing after the second release you desperately sought. "Mur– Mmh, Aki– fuck– cumming!"

All it took was a few more thrusts, a few more kisses to your sore lips, and you were toppling off the edge.

And you came. Came so hard you saw stars, so hard your vision blacked out for a moment. You could feel your walls spasming and contracting around him like they never wanted to let him go.

You could tell he was close by the way he was breathing – his chest rose and fell rapidly, and his breath trembled as he continued to fuck you through it.

He made the prettiest noises when he was close – the deep, velvety groans had grown into breathy, high-pitched 'ah's and 'hah's. You tried to commit them to memory.

"You feel so fuckin' good inside 'a me," You whined,

His hips stuttered the moment the words left your lips, like you had pushed him that much close to the edge.

"So perfect," He cried, thrusts slowing slightly. He squeezed his eyes shut, licking his lips, and then diving in for another kiss. He panted into your mouth, "Makin' me feel so fuckin' good, shit."

You gripped his warm face in your hands, forcing him to look up at you. Every time your abused clit would drag against his navel, you saw colors.

"Cum for me," You told him. "Sir, Please, Cum for me. I need it."

That was all that it took. Not a second later, he faltered, burying his head in the crook of your neck while his hips stuttered. A long, drawn out whine of your name left his lips, then he did it. It was a burst of warmth inside of you, a searing, white-hot pleasure as he emptied himself inside.

"So perfect," He murmured weakly against your lips, rolling into you – slowly – a few more times before stilling completely.

In the few years you had been with your husband, you had never felt so close to another human being – so close as you were with Aki in that moment.

You kissed him with every bit of strength you had left (which wasn't a lot). He hummed, still sensitive, grabbing you by the jaw to deepen the kiss. They were different from the ones previously shared – held a different emotion, a different meaning.

It was a meaning you weren't sure you wanted to know. It was dangerous.

It was everything. Everything you'd been wanting. Everything you'd needed.

He was everything you needed. So, then, why did it feel so wrong?

I really just did that, you told yourself. The obscene mix of your juices and his leaking out of you was a testament to that.

You had officially, without a fragment of a doubt (no excuses this time), cheated on your husband.

a/n: ARRRGGRGAGAGRGR GRAAHHHH RAHHH RAHGRGAHR GAR... sorry. can yall tell im feral for aki. omg ive never written smut this detailed (i think) so i really tried to step out of my comfort zone (but go read my other shit if u like the way my smut reads teehee). as you can see the description of aki got a little out of hand. in my defense, i was ovulating and it was 3am.... anyway! i hope you all enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it. the "murderer!" part was in the anna karenina movie, and at first i kinda debated whether or not i should leave it in, but eventually i was like man fuck it i think its sexy idc idc. ofc it probably plays out better in a period drama than it does in a chainsaw man fanfic but i digress. talk to me yall! Lmk what yall thought, what yall want to see, and what you think is gonna go down -- say hi, wtv.  question of the day: i just thrifted some books today. have yall seen/read the phantom of the opera? if so, would you have picked the phantom or Raoul? For me? The Phantom. in a heartbeat, too, and shamelessly. Take care and drink lots of water. muah x

credits: UNKOWN ATM. I found the cover pic on pinterest unfortch. If you know the artist, please let me know, so I can credit them properly for their work!!! This is NOT MY BEAUTIFUL DRAWINGGG. I obviously do not own csm or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

also: come find me on my wattpad if u wanna interact more!

taglist: @mitsuyeahhh , @sleepysnk , @enneadec , @noaabean , @em1e , @drakensdarling , @bertholdts--butt , @satanlovesusall666 , @mitsuwuyaa , @noctifule , @scaraphobia , @ask-the-insect-hashira , @lovingranchturkeyweasel , @bontensbabygirl , @slvdsjjk , @novacrystalli , @hanmastattoos , @kodzuksn , @hqtiny , @ohmaiscool15 , @redlittlequeen , @leivane , @goldeneagles-posts , @yeahblahlame , @no-oneelsebutnsu , @cookiesandcreammy , @cawwn , @the-haitani-baton , @littlelovebug98 , @armani78 , @mindurownbussines , @kokos-property , @violetmatcha , @hp-simp505 , @acethebrave , @mitsuyeahhh , @sleepysnk , @enneadec , @noaabean , @em1e , @drakensdarling , @bertholdts--butt , @satanlovesusall666 , @mitsuwuyaa , @noctifule , @scaraphobia , @ask-the-insect-hashira , @lovingranchturkeyweasel , @bontensbabygirl , @slvdsjjk , @novacrystalli , @hanmastattoos , @kodzuksn , @hqtiny , @ohmaiscool15 , @redlittlequeen , @leivane , @goldeneagles-posts , @yeahblahlame , @no-oneelsebutnsu , @cookiesandcreammy , @cawwn , @the-haitani-baton , @littlelovebug98 , @armani78 , @mindurownbussines , @kokos-property , @violetmatcha , @hp-simp505

wanna join the taglist? | shameless ; chapter index

[love-lilly02]

The Challenge

The reader has a bit too much to drink and ends up making a deal she might regret...

Originally, it had started out as a good bit of fun. 

The boys had just returned from a mission, broken down and bone tired but glad it was over. It was one of the more rough ones, where they lost more friends than anyone would have liked, but a success was a success. 

To celebrate they went down to a nearby karaoke bar, and somehow they convinced you to come out with them, even though your specific skill set hadn’t been required on the mission. 

You turned them down multiple times, stating that it was your self care night (to which they responded that having fun is self care) but really, who were you to deny the four men anything?

Which is how you found yourself standing on a stage screaming the lyrics to “Sexy” from mean girls. 

Quite honestly, you were doing a pretty damn good job, which was evident by the encouraging screams of both military personnel and civilians alike. the entire bar seemed to thrum with life as you sung and dance, and the task force just watched in awe. 

maybe you had had a bit too much to drink. 

Finally, after the song was over (and after a standing ovation) you stumbled back to the corner booth, laughing at the boy’s bewildered expressions. 

“What, never heard me sing?” You asked, sliding into the booth with only a smidge less grace than you usually possessed. 

“Well lass, i wasn’t under the impression you could sing,” Johnny fired back, smiling wildly. “was fuckin amazin’ kid!”

You smiled at him and ducked your head in a mock bow. “I took theaters in high school, it’s nothing special.” 

All four heads snapped to you so quickly one of them had to have gotten whiplash. 

“You. Took theater?” Price said, fixing you with a disbelieved look. 

“Yes, captain. Yes i did.” You lean back in the booth, just now noticing that Ghost has draped his arm over your seat. 

“Now this is gotta see,” Gaz said, laughing to himself. 

“Oh- good luck finding anything. I got rid of all those photos years ago.” They all look at each other, before turning back to you. 

“Is that a challenge?” You hear Ghost’s deep voice rumble, dangerously close to your ear. 

“Yes…” you squeak out, not dairing to move away from him. “Actually, let’s make it just that. Whoever can find more than 10 photos of me before my junior year of high school wins.” 

They all look at each other again, before Johnny speaks up. “Why tha’ year?” 

You just shrug. “Changed schools then, looked like a completely different person.” 

They all nod. “What do we get if we win?” Gaz questioned. 

You took a moment to think it over, pretending to tap on your chin and everything. “I’ll do whatever you want for a day.”

Maybe you did have too much to drink. 

Their eyes practically bug out of their heads, even Ghost looks shocked at the prize. 

“Whatever… we want?” He questions, his eyes still wide. You can practically see the gears turning in his head. 

“Mhm,” You say, nodding. “As long as it’s not a mission day or something, I have to do whatever you tell me to do for twenty-four hours. Kind of like an ‘I cant say no’ day.”

They all not hurriedly, quickly agreeing to the plan. 

“Looks like we’ve got ourselves a deal!” You smile, downing the lasts of your drink. 

(may be a series i have a few ideas for this)

My Masterlist

[liillyliilly]

How To Set Up A Tent 101

ushijima wakatoshi x reader words; 1352 synopsis; When all else fails, Y/n and Ushijima can still try their best to set up a tent.

Y/n really was lost when it came to setting up the tent she and Ushijima had to use. It was an unfortunate situation, really. As often as Shiratorizawa gave their students weeks off school, they also often did week long camping trips according to clubs and team sports.

Y/n wasn’t meant to share a tent with Ushijima, the captain of the boys’ volleyball team. Seeing as all the other girls in the Shiratorizawa journalism club had already been paired up and had their tents Y/n was shoved off to the Shiratorizawa boys’ volleyball club to ask if they had an extra tent she could use.

After clearing her throat several times, she asked Coach Washijō if he had an extra tent. “Excuse me, Coach Washijō but do you have an extra tent? The Journalism club forgot to pack an extra one.” She rubbed the back of her neck as the old Coach gave her a sour look but called Ushijima over.

“Ushijima-san, you were planning on having your own tent correct?” Coach Washijō asked, his back hunched over to make him look like the villain of a kids’ fairytale. Ushijima gave a nod. Coach Washijō raised his eyebrows and clapped his hands together. “Okay then, L/n-san, you can share with Ushijima-san.”

When she went to disagree, the coach just gave her a warning glare. “I do not have time to deal with this situation any longer.” As he walked away, Y/n couldn’t help but mimic him.

“I do not have time to deal with this situation any longer.” She imitated, lowering her voice and puckering her face up so that it was comparable to his tart expression. Then she dropped what she was doing and turned to Ushijima, she slapped a hand over her mouth. “Please don’t say anything.”

To her surprise, Ushijima chuckled, “You do a much better impression than Tendou can.” When Ushijima started walking away to the bus where all the camping materials were stored, he looked behind him and motioned for Y/n to follow him. Although she felt like a small puppy trailing after a giant, she still went along.

When Ushijima was able to pull the tent out of the back of the bus single handedly, Y/n swallowed thickly before carrying two sleeping bags and waddling after Ushijima since the bags were much larger than expected and hid her line of sight. When Ushijima set down the tent on a dry spot underneath a large evergreen tree, Y/n set down the sleeping bags against the trunk of the tree.

“Do you know how to set the tent up?” She questioned.

“No.” Ushijima admitted. If he was being honest, this was not an ample situation to be in for himself. Even though he prided himself on being reliable and giving a stong feeling of security to others, he always wanted to be the one to solely provide that to Y/n. So, he felt his confidence weaken at the fact that he didn’t know how to set up something so simple as a tent.

Even though they acted awkward around each other, the two had known each other longer than most Shiratorizawa students. Growing up on the same street, Ushijima often spent his time outside practicing volleyball against the brick wall of a small candy shop. The same candy shop that Y/n’s grandmother owned. She would sit outside on the bench with a notebook, asking Ushijima random questions and then writing down his answers.

And then the next day, she would share the miniature article that she had written, featuring what she liked to call “The Rising Volleyball Star Ushiwaka” while Ushijima continued to bounce the volleyball against the wall.

That was how they spent their summers, alone, but at the same time, together.

When Ushijima got accepted to Shiratorizawa, he raced to the candy shop, where Y/n was inevitably sitting and writing things down. “What Junior High do you plan on attending?” He asked, intent on her answer.

“Shiratorizawa accepted me based on the Journalism stuff they saw I had written.” She said while swinging her legs back and forth, since she wasn’t tall enough to have her feet reach the ground from the bench. It was at that moment, Ushijima felt true relief.

“I don’t know how to set up a tent either, but I'm sure we can figure it out.” She said, dusting off her hands and then putting them on her hips in a confident stance.

“Together?” Ushijima asked for a small affirmation.

“Of course!”

Soon, the pair was sitting on the grass, Ushijima was trying to put two metal rods together as Y/n flipped through an instruction manual rapidly. She clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth before setting down the booket and crawling over to Ushijima. Putting her hands over his, she twisted one of the rods and eventually it clicked against the other one.

When she let out a small laugh and pumped her fists excitedly, Ushijima wanted to do whatever he could just to see her act like that again. Eventually, after spending the rest of the day figuring out how to set the tent up, Ushijima and Y/n took a step back to admire their handiwork.

A large purple tent, suitable for perhaps one person to sleep comfortably laid under the tree. To Tendou Satori, a camping pro, it was probably the worst made tent he had ever seen. But seeing his best friend celebrate with the only girl he would actually talk about for longer than a passing comment, Tendou felt satisfied in the accomplishment before him.

“High five!” Y/n eagerly remarked. Ushijima held back a smile as he lifted his hand up above his head. Y/n rolled her eyes but tried her best to give him a high five despite the height difference of their hands. Y/n started jumping up and down to try and reach Ushijima’s hand.

“Aw, c’mon!” She complained. Ushijima lowered his hand and Y/n happily gave him a high five, when she looked up to him with a scrunched-up face due to her blinding smile, the corners of her eyes winkled and her cheeks mushed up, Ushijima ruffled her hair. Leaving Y/n to purse her lips and shake her head at him.

Later that night, the temperature dropped way below what was assumed to be the normal temperature for a summer night. Y/n only had her sleeping bag, and one blanket tucked around her legs. Her breath came out in white mists, and she could hardly even see it through the cover of inky dark nightime.

Her fingers felt bitten by the cold, and her ears were freezing, she wholly believed that her face would not last the entire night in this cold.

It just so happened that the heating pads for this particular tent had been detached by none other than Tendou Satori earlier that day, claiming he needed extra warmth if he was going to be sharing a tent with an emotionally cold Shirabu. Only, Ushijima had neglected to pay attention to Tendou's antic because he was been too busy watching Y/N mess around with her fellow journalism club members by shoving each other into the lake.

Her body felt chill to the bone. Icy and cold she tried to warm her hands up by rubbing them together. Shuffling around in her sleeping bag she cuddled into herself to conserve any form of warmth. Ushijima rubs his eyes, before mumbling an incomprehensible statement and pulling her into him. Ushijima stuck his arm out of his sleeping bag and pulled his blanket over Y/n as well. Y/n just stiffened her whole body at all the sudden touch.

“Um, Ushijima.” She whispered. When he didn’t respond, she realized that he was asleep. Soft snores and the feeling of his chest moving up and down against her back helped to slowly drift Y/n off to her own slumber.

They woke up, their limbs were entangled and their hearts were entwined.