#the softness the reverence of it all

[sanvees]

This ring belongs to Vee.

[5mcsinatrenchcoat]

Take me through the night, down down down by the river...

(Vice made a promise to touch and to kiss her all over as soon as she's able to - and Vice keeps her promises.)

[booasaur]

Minx (2022) - 2x01

[kenjakusbraincum]

I think it’s so cool to see how different people interpret the same character. I write Sukuna very differently than you (I enjoy the sadism too much to ever let him be soft). And yet, I love the way you write him. Especially in Reverence. Your writing style is lovely and I appreciate how you take the time to flesh out the characters and their surroundings. I am very excited for part 2 <3

Thank you for the kind words!!!

I was very hellbent on keeping Sukuna as in character as I can while writing Reverence, but that ending hurt me a bit too personally and I had to satisfy my inner softie with tons of unrelated Sukuna fluff to make up for it !! Soft Sukuna brings me soo much joy and I'll indulge in him no matter how ooc it is 😩

But really I love all the different iterations of him! I'm definitely gonna stalk your acc later to read your Sukuna stuff bc based off that strikethrough comment... I'm Interested 👀

[reginrokkr]

Is this me being a menace as I'm having dinner for what's to come later? Mayhaps. Just going to drop this here and say: how lucky it is to get a man who goes like this seconds before kissing someone:

It's the softening gaze as he approaches his partner, so gentle and full of emotion and love-stricken which not even himself would anticipate to ever feel, let alone find someone who accepts him for how he is. And the lips that part in waiting as they close the distance 😔

[heartofjasmina]

Your boyfriend has been fighting his breeding instincts since high school. Always wrapping it, always, even if he did want to feel the satisfaction of filling a warm wet hole with his cum.

So by the time you're married and finally alone in your hotel room, he can't wait anymore.

"Mrs. L/N." He breathes against your lips, peeling your travel dress of your body with the reverence you deserve. Your beautiful curves drive him crazy even now.

"I wanna see your tits get heavy with milk." He murmurs as he sucks one of your nipples into his mouth. His hands groping at the softness of your hips and your love handles. He pulls off your nipple with a lewd pop, his eyes turning upward to meet yours. "Wanna see your belly swell with our child."

"Let me put a baby in you." He whispers, standing and finally pressing his erection against your soft stomach. His eyes plead with you, the deep seated need to start your family evident in his gaze.

"Okay, Mr. L/N. Let's make a baby." You grin as you press your lips to his, squealing when he all bit picks you up and tosses you onto the bed.

It's not long before you're folded underneath him, your knees pressed to your chest as he fucks you with his fat cock as deep as humanly possible. He can feel the head of his shaft kissing your cervix, he can feel your wetness on his bare dick and he goes a little crazy.

His words slurred, positively drunk on your pussy, "Gonna knock you up mama, fuck. Perfect fucking pussy, see how she's creamin' for me? She wants a baby I can tell."

Your eyes are crossed from how perfectly hes hitting your spot and your brain is melting from the heat of his dick and his words.

You have no way to prove it, but you're pretty sure it was that first time of that long night that got you pregnant with your daughter.

Daichi, Kirishima, Iwaizumi, Bakugou, Deku

[yanderenightmare]

Gojo Satoru

TW: nsfw, noncon, yandere, somnophilia, unconsciousnes due to drinking

fem reader

Thinking about a love-sick but scummy Gojo and his cute kohai—how you don’t usually drink and how he has to carry you to his dorm when you start to hang on the walls of the graduation party. It’s been his last year, and he can’t believe he won’t be able to see your pretty face every day moving forward.

“This is fine, right?” he asks softly, laying you down on his bed. His breath thickens while looking down at you—so cute—all sound asleep.

You really shouldn’t be a sorcerer. Curses and curse users and other sorcerers the like would only take advantage—they’d all want a piece. You’re a little silly, aren’t you? You know that he can’t always be there to look after you, right? Oh, they’d eat you alive without his help, you know that, don’t you?

He’d kill anything, anyone, and everyone if something ever happened to your cute little face.

He straddles you, lifting your skirt carefully—so slow and silently, in reverence—like he’s lifting a wedding veil, uncovering your cute cotton undies. His tall form sags forward at the sight—blushy cheeks dusted with dew, looking down at you with half-mast misty eyes.

So cute, so cute, so cute. He should give you his babies. That would keep you home and out of harm’s way—soft and safe behind lock and key and a thousand seals, both keeping others out and you in. Oh fuck—what a good idea. You’d look so right all round with his kid.

He’s already pealing down your underwear. Bearing your pretty little cunt to his searing blue eyes—gleamingly bright with want.

So so so cute!

His pale and slender fingers can’t help but reach out and touch at once—though carefully—sliding his fingertips through your slit.

 “Aw~ you’re so wet~” he awes in endeared glee, already catching your hole and slipping one of his digits in. He all but cries over how snug you are. He knew you were a virgin, but to toy with it in grasp, to feel it wrap around his finger all so tightly, was almost too much for him to handle. 

“You were acting so shy earlier—so coy,” he continues. “But my six-eyes saw it anyway, plain as day…” Pumping you on his digit, he watches you curl in your drunken sleep—a pretty little moan leaving you all so softly. It makes him giggle with delight. “You’ve wanted me all along, haven’t you?”

♡ GOJO SATORU masterlist ♡ JUJUTSU KAISEN masterlist

[horsefigureoftheday]

Can you explain the "breyer horses are stylised" thing you said a while back? Not because I don't believe you but because I don't know enough about horses to see it (besides the mane and tail)

All artistic representations of a horse will be somewhat stylized. Humans can't help it, they imagine details, even when referencing photos or live animals. A swayed back gets exaggerated, sickle hocks are overlooked, the face becomes more expressive, because to a human who loves a horse, and who expresses their own emotions with their face, the horse's face just feels more expressive.

Take a look at this horse from Peter Paul Rubens' "Wolf and Fox Hunt" (1616) and how it compares to a photo of a horse

The artist was clearly familiar with horses, and most likely referenced off a live horse. And yet its face is much more expressive than a real horse's face - it's neotenous and borderline anthropomorphic, with its huge sorrowful eyes, and the short muzzle that puts the mouth in closer proximity to its eyes (making its expression more readable).

I think a lot of people see what they want to see when they look at a horse, and they reflect that in their art. Is the horse an independent agent or a tool of its rider? Is the horse an unthinking animal or a soulful creature like yourself? Does the artist admire animals, in spite of painting them in terrible war-like scenarios? Does the artist paint animals in these scenarios because he admires them? Is the horse meant to elevate the status of its rider, by being depicted as a soulful creature that nonetheless submits to its rider? (You can probably guess my own opinion from these questions)

Earlier art saw horses almost an afterthought, depicted from memory while their rider was drawn reverently. All those art pieces of emperors and kings on horseback, where the horse looks like a cartoonish oaf, use the horse as a symbol of power, with no regard for the animal itself. Even when the horse is beautifully rendered, it's nothing more than a vehicle to carry its rider. The artist has depicted the horse as expressionless, beastly, and soulless.

Even when you get into portraits of horses in the 17-/1800s, they are still stylized, though now you're just as likely to see a lithe and graceful companion, as you are a muscled working horse or a faithful old friend. Horse breeding really took off around this time, as did theories of animal minds, so adoration of horses-as-individuals became more widespread. Examples are "Lustre" (1762) by George Stubbs, "Mare and Foal in a Stable" (1854) by John Frederick Herring Senior, and "A Grey Horse in a Field" (1873) by Rosa Bonheur.

All this is to say that horses will always be stylized in art. Humans can't not twist the horse the suit their own tastes, and that's fine. I actually think it's kinda beautiful. The way horses are stylized can give you insight into the artist's opinion of horses. An artist with a neotenic, expressive stylization probably has more respect for horses-as-individuals than an artist who depicts them as inexpressive, powerful, willing beasts of burden.

Breyer horses have an airy painterly quality to them. Even the draft horses seem almost weightless. Compare Breyer's "George" with the self-released resin horse "Gustav," both sculpted by Brigitte Eberl.

George has much longer hooves and smoother curves in his legs - you could draw a near perfect curve from his hind knee to his toe -, giving him a flowing appearance with very little weight behind it. Gustav, on the other hand, has sharp edges and corners. He feels heavy. I'm a big fan of wrinkles and muscle on model horses, but the muscles on George seem like he's been through a rock tumbler. They're smooth and soft-looking, except for the extremely deep crevices between them, which are probably there to better catch paint and enhance the shading (an effect that's especially noticeable on George's thigh). Gustav, on the other hand, has very subtle muscling and virtually no wrinkles (he deserves neck wrinkles, give my boy neck wrinkles!!). He looks like a working horse with a solid layer of fat over his muscles. George's stylization is, for lack of a better word, smooth. Flawless. A bit too perfect for my liking. George is like the platonic ideal of a visually appealing draft horse. A horse like him can't exist.

I think resin horses by master craftsmen are the closest we'll get to depicting horses exactly as they are in life. The stylistic choices are extremely subtle, and seem more like a consequence of the medium than a deliberate goal on the artist's part (e.g., you can't make a realistic mane out of resin, so you have to compromise).

I love both the stylistic trappings that humans fall into when depicting horses and the endless quest for the perfect artistic representation of the horse. Both are beautiful. All horse art is beautiful.

(Obligatory disclaimer that I'm not an art historian or anthropologist, I literally studied bugs at university, so if you think I'm talking out of my ass you are MORE than welcome to add to this post!)

[yawnderu]

Can't stop thinking about Simon crying while making love.

It's all too tender, too soft and loving, the sheer adoration in your teary eyes forcing him to swallow down the knot building up within his throat as his thrusts grow deeper, his calloused hands displaying an uncharacteristic amount of gentleness as they roam all over your body.

His warm face finds shelter on the crook of your neck, hot, deep exhales hitting your sensitive skin as tears slip out of his closed eyes for the first time in over a decade, his pale nose growing rosy against you as he sniffs, not wanting to dirty you with his runny nose— not wanting you to see him as pathetic, not wanting to explain that it's the first time his body belongs to him, the first time he's willingly sleeping with someone.

Your soft hands are a sheer contrast to the roughness he's used to, caressing the bumps from his scars with nothing but pure reverence, coming up to the back of his head, pressing his face closer to your neck, thankful for the choked sob that leaves your lips at the trust he's displaying, as it muffles his own.

[rockingbytheseaside]

✦ How they hold you in bed when sleeping

Pierro, Capitano, Dottore, Scaramouche, Pantalone, Tartaglia (separate) 

When the stars are perched in the night sky, and the world becomes wrapped in a still blanket of darkness - there is no better action than departing to your safe space, the coziness of your bedroom, and the safety of your beloved’s body next to you. The lights are dimmed and after a warm shower and a change into comfy pajamas, your beloved is met with a tender sight of your sleepy figure. It is time for rest, and with his arms open, beckoning you to hop into his embrace - you join him in bed at last. 

✧ A single glance from Pierro and his eyes would instantly soften upon seeing your sleepy expression. The Director of the Fatui doesn’t require any questions or even verbal communication to know that something is troubling you. Your solemn gaze and slumped shoulders tell him more than enough - and his heart aches in response. Silently but gently, he pulls you closer, his star-shaped pupils seeking answers from your own. 

“My divine one... A long day?” - he whispers, his hand lifting your chin to make you look at him. You don’t directly respond, but nod and press your lips into a thin line. Pierro sighs, yearning to vanquish all your worries and pain. But sometimes, words are superfluous.

“Do not fret your little heart. No harm shall come, for I am here, my divine. Shall I take you to bed, instead?” 

With a small nod and a timid glance from you, Pierro spoke no further. He knew what you required on such solemn nights as these, and instead, allowed his arms to pick you up, carrying your fatigued figure in his bigger embrace. He pulled you closer, his cheek gently grazing your face as he whispered soothing words and brought you to bed. 

He tucked you in, the king-sized bed bringing the familiar sensation of silky sheets and warm covers. He kisses your forehead with careful and slow deliberation before accompanying you to sleep.    

When Pierro sleeps beside you, he is often silent, but his gaze never leaves your figure. He’d lay on his side, gazing at your face as if it were the stars and the moon itself. Even within the dimness of the room, he has memorized the outline of your face, the soothing rhythm of your breathing, the contour of your figure. With one hand around you, you two slept peacefully, the troubles of the world left behind. Even the Fatui’s Director required solace, and this solace he would locate only in your tender arms; his sanctuary. 

✧ Il Capitano has memorized your routine. Take a shower, get ready for bed, and most importantly, sleep on top of him as if his body were a sturdy mattress. It’s not your fault your cherished is so much taller and bigger, right? Well luckily for you, he absolutely adores it when you climb on top of him, resting your head on top of his chest and legs around his hips. Your smaller figure clad tight around him like a loving weighted blanket while he slept on his back. His hands would gladly squeeze you, loving your softness against his toned physique. 

“You don’t mind my weight on top of you, Cappy?” - you’d often ask every night before bed, peeking at him with that tender worry that made the Harbinger melt in an instant. Capitano would continue to hold you, his sharp fingers tracing circles gently on your hips or your back.

“Dearest, I have carried heavier weights that quadruple you in size. If you were to bother me, would I be pulling you back to my arms whenever you toss and turn?” 

And thus, with the seal of approval from the honorable Captain, you’d smile triumphantly and sleep on him. That’s just how the two of you were: Capitano was a beast in size, slept still, and barely moved when on his back. Conversely, you were smaller in size, slept very lightly, and often turned or wrestled with the covers. Even when you had the spacious bed to your leisure, you always chose to sleep tightly clinging to him. And Capitano revered every second of it as if it was the biggest honor in his duty as your protector. Truly, an honorable knight protecting your dreams. 

✧ Sharing a bed with Il Dottore is a toil. If you managed to miraculously drag him out of his lab, he’d groan and argue that he has important research to do, that your concern for his sleep schedule is ‘childish’. Yet the moment he settles in bed, he becomes a menace to your sanity: 

“Are you coming to bed or not?” 

“Come here, closer.” 

“No, you are pushing around.”

And the cherry on top of it all? He’d stare at you during the entire night, maskless. You know he doesn’t easily fall asleep, even on days when he overexhausted himself in his experiments. So naturally, his method to relax is to press the side of his head tightly against your chest and just remain glued to you with the sound of your heartbeat being his salvation. You’d assume it is an adorable sight… until you’d open your eyes in the middle of the night, only to notice a piercing, red lens just gawking at you. Motionless and still, he just wore that neutral expression while being pressed to your chest.

“...Uh, are you going to just stare at me in the dark?” - you whispered in the dark, to which he won’t even move or change his expression.

“43 beats per minute.” 

You blinked sleepily - “... wha-” 

“Your heart beats approximately 43 to 50 beats per minute when you sleep. That’s anywhere between 20640 to 24000 beats for 8 hours of sleep.” 

It was your turn to gawk at him, albeit in confusion. His nonchalant yet stoic reply told you that he was, indeed, very focused on counting each and every beat of your heart while you slept. He remained pressing his ear to the middle of your chest, arms wrapped around your waist tightly. 

“Dottore, have you not slept this entire time…?” 

“Shush, stop speaking,” - he whispered more gently, pressing his face into you in a rather touchy manner as if you wouldn’t notice. “I am still counting. Your heart rate is increasing to 81 bpm.” 

“If you won’t go to sleep this instance I won’t make any Ajilenakh Cake tomorrow.”

As such, silence dominated the dark bedroom once more. The doctor said no more and settled on hiding his face against your body, not daring to admit that he loved your desserts. And even more, not daring to acknowledge that your heartbeat lulled him to sleep. To deny his infatuation with every beat of your pulse would be a lie, and to deny his longing to physically hold you close would be ignorance. So he settled to silently counting your heartbeat until succumbing to dreamless slumber. 

✧ Scaramouche didn’t require sleep. Everyone knew that. Regardless, your persuasion with the 6th knew no bounds as you begged and nagged at him relentlessly to remain beside your bedding. He would audibly scoff and cross his arms at your ridiculous request. 

“My body does not need rest for 8-something hours. Why should I even waste such precious time with you while you’re the one unconscious?” 

However, no matter how much Scaramouche put up the cold front and rolled his eyes, he wasn’t immune to your ingratiating puppy eyes or gentle tugging whenever you asked something of him. You’d always embrace him from the side, asking him softly to stay a little longer as you depart for the night. He, of course, would refuse and cut your answers short, but his actions told a different story. He was already tucking you in; making sure the futon was neatly laid and the covers warmly wrapped around you while he sat kneeling beside you. He just had to make a fuss first:

“To even insinuate such foolish proposition… You must be truly bored out of your mind.”

You’d only chuckle in response, smiling whenever he made sure your room was tidy and secure for your nightly rest. But even then, you’d reach for his hand, and whisper: 

“... Just stay for a while longer. At least until I fall asleep, okay?” 

Same scoff. Same attitude. But The Puppeteer never left. He always stayed beside you, despite his arrogant rebuttals that you quickly learned were nothing about. He’d either sit leaning beside you, keeping a silent company, or telling you obscure stories he heard from Inazuma or the Abyss. And at times, Scaramouche would remain kneeling by your futon even after you had fallen asleep. 

Your breathing was slow and steady, but he was almost afraid to lean any closer. All bickerings he displayed before were gone, and like a porcelain puppet, Scaramouche would find himself frozen in place, hypnotized by your soothing breathing. He just gazed at you, as if you were a distant star within the dark sky, the palliative breaths emitting from you told him that you were safe. You are here. 

And it was from you he learned how gentle breaths are emitted by those deemed “alive”. How your breathing fluctuates in different moments of your life: energetic when happy, hitched when disturbed, and peaceful when asleep. Strangely, this mundane motion of your chest falling and rising worked like a lullaby to Scaramouche. 

Alas, he now condemns himself for not caressing your face all these times he watched you sleep. A lonesome Wanderer sat alone, an empty futon beside him. Your familiar presence lacking, and he won’t hear your tranquil breaths. You are not here.  

✧ Your dear Pantalone had a fundamental habit before bed. He’d set his glasses aside, hair tied up, and go through his skincare routine right before bed. His hands diligently yet delicately wash all the apprehension and professionalism from his face. But the most important part? Trash talk with you about what happened at his work, while he focused on his reflection in the mirror.

“Could you believe that dear?” - the 9th called out to you from the bathroom, his brows frowning in displeasure. The man continued to cleanse his face. “Those insolent aristocrats offered another bribe under the table, thinking that would change my final statement.” 

You responded with a faint “Mhm,” back at him. 

“And then! The tasteless bastard dared to ask that some of their reports be delayed because he will pay twice, as long as no one checks for quality control. I mean, the audacity of some of those high-society morons!” 

“Right, right” - you murmured faintly from the bedroom. 

Pantalone massaged his cheekbones, making sure his face was as affluent as his taste and status. He adjusted his robe, still rambling with the same frustrated passion. “They think that just because they’re doing business with me, negotiating with a high sum of bribes would lead to a guaranteed deal with the Fatui. Ugh.” 

This time, there was no response from you. The bedroom was awfully silent, despite the night lamp still shining. 

“Honey?” - Pantalone called gently. 

Silence. The Regrator stepped out of the bathroom, a curious look on his face, until his eyes spotted you in bed, asleep. His expression immediately softens, all quarrels and gossip forgotten. It seems that his late-night rambles about work have thrilled you so much that you, obviously, dozed off. You didn’t even turn off the lights or get under the covers yet.  

Pantalone couldn’t help but smile softly. You two had a long day, anyway. He quietly finished his preparations for bed, changed into comfortable nightwear, and stepped closer to your side. With a delicate touch, he made sure you were tucked in properly, giving you the usual good night kiss on the forehead and tucking your hair away from your face. The man dimmed the lights before he two took his rightful place in bed beside you. 

Whatever quarrels troubled his mind now - didn’t matter. What mattered was that he had your comforting presence beside him in bed. As he slowly spooned your sleeping figure, Pantalone let out a sigh of relief, letting his head rest by the crook of your nape. Only then, did the Regrator feel his body go into ease, feeling the tranquil silence settle upon the room. Thus, the two of you slept warmly; Something that Pantalone would never trade for any riches or gold. 

✧ Ah yes, Tartaglia, his sweetheart, and their 50,000 Mora five-foot tall Morax plushie. Childe remained lying on his back, his expression far from pleased. Ever since he returned from his mission in Liyue, he gifted you this massive dragon plushie. A plushie that became his mortal enemy. His tormentor. His replacer. 

The 11th frequently brought souvenirs back home in Snezhnaya. Liyuan tea sets, Inazuman dresses, or Fontainian gadgets. All for your spoiling, and the joyous smiles from his siblings. One of such missions, he returned home with several cute toys and plushies, just for you and Teucer. He is not beating the “Greatest Toy Seller” allegation anytime soon, but he was certain that the gigantic Morax would be a lovely choice for you. 

How naive he was. 

The plushie was almost your entire height, yet you held onto it with utter delight when he gave it to you. You hugged and squeezed it with love, finding the fluffy geo archon the cutest thing ever. And thus, here you were. In bed, not hugging your boyfriend, but hugging the massive Morax plushie. 

It became a common occurrence. At first, Childe chuckled at your adorable antics whenever you brought his gift with you in bed. But then it became more apparent that you would rather turn your back to him, and just fall asleep while embracing the plushie. Childe swallowed his pride. It’s just a plushie, he bargained with himself. But then he would stare daggers that that innocent, fluffy-looking Morax. How dare it be the one receiving your love, while you adorably squeezed or fell asleep on it.

It should’ve been him! 

Therefore, one night, he took matters into his own hands. Tartaglia sat up silently in bed, and by mustering all his skills in stealth, he sneakily pulled the Morax plushie away from your grasp while you slept soundly. He was slow, and careful so as not to wake you up; and boy, tugging that five-foot plush was no easy task. Once it was away from your arms, Childe grinned in triumph… and threw the toy aside. The enemy has been neutralized.  

Next step - carefully pulling you closer to him. You were already in deep sleep, so of course, you didn’t feel when your beloved naturally embraced you in bed. Shh, no one will know he was jealous of a silly toy. He was just a concerned boyfriend, who needed to bury his face onto the crown of your head and relish your warmth. 

The next morning, you woke up feeling warm and pressed to your dear Ajax, who was particularly cuddly that morning. 

“Oh no, how did my Morax plushie fall to the floor?” 

“Hm? Oh, you must’ve accidentally tossed it away while you slept, dear.” 

[snowballseal]

Sleepy Affection

Sylus X Reader

Summary: You're tired. Sylus is the best cuddle partner. Lots of soft love here. That's it.

Word Count: 1061

Note: Self indulgent really, I have a hard time with burnout and sleeping in general, but I know cuddling with this man would solve all of that. Sorry if I overused adjectives.

---

Days as a hunter are long. It’s a part of the job, always being alert, always willing to help when the need arises. And you love it. You love being awake before the sun rises, and the exhaustion in your limbs as you walk home. It satisfies the restlessness in your bones.

But still, it’s hard to not hit burnout eventually.

You can feel it weighing down your body as you step out of headquarters. The sun is just rising over Linkon, and you narrow your eyes up at the sky. Of course you worked through the night. It was that or let your paperwork drag into your weekend. Maybe not the best decision. You sigh, rolling your shoulders. Every muscle in your body aches for sleep.

You don’t want to go home, though. It would be too quiet, too empty. If anything, you would probably end up staring at your ceiling, impossibly restless despite how tired you are. And that sounds absolutely awful.

Before you can think too hard about it, your feet are carrying you towards the transit center. To the one place where you feel safe, despite all the reasons you shouldn’t.

---

The N109 Zone is strangely quiet in the early morning gloom. The streets are nearly empty, the only sound coming from the electric buzz of the overhead wires and the snuffling of a stray dog on the corner. For a fleeting moment, you wonder if being a criminal makes you allergic to the day. Or maybe they’re all vampires. An amused hum dances past your lips at the thought. Perhaps they’re not after the aether core in your heart, but your blood.

One man seems to be at least.

By the time you reach Sylus’ place, it feels like you're walking through a light fog. Or stepping into a dream. The home greets you with a pleasant warmth that eases the tension in your muscles. Music drifts through the halls, distant and fuzzy with that old quality that vinyl has. Like a siren song, it draws you deeper into the dark comfort of the manor.

Right to your sleeping dragon.

Even while he’s sleeping, Sylus looks…dignified. Ethereal even. The soft light peaking through his curtains casts a glow on his features, dancing across his white lashes, making them almost look like snowflakes. Your eyes trail over the relaxed line of his jaw, the contours of his chest and shoulders. He lies so still, you could almost believe he’s a statue, if not for the gentle rise and fall of his chest. He just looks so…perfect.

It’s hard to believe that this is Onychinus’ feared leader. 

Toeing off your boots, you tread carefully to the edge of the bed. The mattress dips under your weight, the sheets soft and silky under your fingers. Sylus lets out a low sigh at the movement, red eyes flickering open ever so slightly before falling back shut. Without a word, he shifts and lifts the sheets for you to crawl in next to him.

His warmth draws you in, just like his wispy, old music. You can’t resist it, not that you want to. It’s all the invitation you need to tuck yourself as close as possible, like an exhausted little kitten looking for a safe place to sleep. Sylus immediately draws your leg over his hip, long fingers kneading lazily at your thigh. Every part of you presses against his addicting warmth, drawing a content hum from your lips, completely pliant under his touch. He could do anything to you right now and you wouldn’t complain. But there’s an almost reverent feeling to the way he holds you, the way he traces shapes along your skin and presses gingerly into your wound up muscles.

It’s a rare moment of pure gentleness. No teasing quips. No haughty smirk. Just you and Sylus, the air between you thick with something so incredibly tender. You stay like that for what feels like forever, time lost to soft touches and quiet sighs. Neither of you are willing to break whatever spell has fallen over the room. 

Soon enough, though, the weight of your eyelids becomes too difficult to fight. You tuck your face into the curve of his throat, the scent of his cologne washing over your senses. It’s spicy and warm, like worn leather and rum, just so perfectly Sylus.

You wish you could stay like this forever, floating pleasantly on the edge of sleep with him. Just with him. An indescribable fondness curls somewhere deep in your chest.

“I missed you,” you admit into the crook of his neck, your voice thick with sleep and something vulnerable.

“Mmmm, I was wondering why you crawled into my bed in the middle of the morning.” 

He wasn’t, really. You both feel it whenever you can’t see each other for too long. It’s like the worst feeling of homesickness. He won’t admit to it, but you can feel it in the way his arms curl possessively around your waist, like he never wants to let you go. You slide a hand up to his chest, savoring the warmth of his skin, the steady thrum of his heart under your palm. You’ve missed this. Sylus shivers at your teasing touch, those red eyes finally flickering open again to look down at you, half-lidded and unfocused. You hold his gaze, trying to memorize every detail, every fleck of color, the dark gleam of fondness in their depths, matching your own. This is the real Sylus. Gentle and kind, passion burning just below the surface. The one only you get to see. And you love him more than you’ll ever be able to explain.

You curl your arms around his narrow waist, forehead pressing against his chest, “Is it okay that I came?”

You already know the answer. Still, Sylus humors you.

“I would have it no other way,” he rumbles lowly, lips brushing against your hair. “Now rest, sweetheart, I can tell how tired you are. We can talk in the evening.”

You hum, eyes finally falling shut, “Promise?”

“I promise.”

And just like that, you find it impossible to stay awake any longer, lulled by his words and the sound of his breathing. Every nerve, every worry, washes away, leaving you to fall into the darkness you’ve been craving, dreaming of the weekend you can spend together.

---

Honestly took so long to write. I wanted to moment to feel soft and more drawn out, don't know if it worked. But I hope y'all liked it :)

[tojisun]

PLEASE MORE DADDY SIMON IM GNAWING AT THE BARS OF MY ENCLOSURE AGGGHHGHHHGGHHHHHHHHH

he’s just so fuckin sweet and hot and hhhhhhgggg

simon really is so sweet and hot :((

i really really love the idea of how he’s truly more into the daddy kink thing than you are.

your slip-up only ever happens when he’s fucking you so, so good that your mind is splintering from your tethered control, leaving you rasping out whimpered moans—“daddy, daddy please!”

but simon loves bringing it out of the burning intimacy he shares with you; loves drawing it out with gentle beckoning.

“give daddy a kiss?” he asks, big hand curled around your wrist from where he’s tugged you close to where he’s sitting. you were left to hover by his front, leg brushing against his thigh.

“what?” you puff out, your voice tinged with surprise even amidst the sudden hunching of your shoulders. simon already knows—you heard him, alright.

“c’mere, love,” is what simon replies with instead, pulling you one more time and catching you with surety as you stumble on his lap.

a yelp slips from your lips, only for it to peter out, and simon wonders what it must be that you’re thinking.

do you think ill of him now that he’s gotten more clingy? more insistent?

he was always able to hold himself back, never pushing or asking more than what you give to him—every piece which he collects with reverence—but a spark had been lit in his heart and simon can no longer hold back.

he adores you. he adores the way you look at him, all starry-eyed and devoted, so shy even when you can’t shake away the honest need curling in the way you seek him out.

(“do you like it?” you asked, voice so meek that simon had to rely on his training to pick up the tremble of your voice.

”yes,” he replied, instant, eyes already crinkled in his smile. “thank you, petal. ‘m so proud of you.”

and there it was—the shy curl of your lips, the way your breath stuttered, your eyes ducking away as you let simon’s praise wash over you.

see? what a sweetheart you are.)

“please?” he asks again. “won’t you kiss me?”

simon suppresses the shiver that racks his body at the soft press of your lips on his—a sweet little peck, a ghosting caress.

so, so adorable.

[yanwonnies]

ꜜ : 𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒅𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒌𝒊𝒔𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒎 ﹙ 엔하이픈 ! ﹚

↝ How ENHYPEN reacts when his cute member refuses/avoids their kisses?

⠇↴ Pairings: poly!ot7 x added member!reader ⠇↴ Words: 12.0K

Warnings ‎⸝⸝⸝ suggestive (except for the ni-ki part), lots of kisses (again…),neck kisses, desperate!Heeseung, domestic!jay as well as possessive!jay, throat grabbing (p.js part), Special guest!Layla (s.jy part), Jealous!Jake, a little bit mean!sunghoon, allusion to shower sex (p.sh part), a little angst (k.sw part), soft comfort (k.sw part), changing in front of each other (k.sw part), a little insecure! Jungwon

Wonnie’s note ‎⸝⸝⸝ Okay, honestly, after writing this, I can't stop thinking about Sunghoon's and sunoo's, they got me like 🫠🫠. ni-ki's one has me kicking my feet 🤭, I found it more cute than i imagined. Again, English is not my first language, so I'm sorry if there are misprints or if lose the sense in some parts. thank you very much for taking the time to read my work. ᵔᴗᵔ

𝘺𝘢𝘯𝘸𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘦𝘴 2024 © 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘥.

˖ ࣪ › Lee Heeseung ー 이희승

In the studio's bustling dressing room, the members of ENHYPEN were preparing for their upcoming performance. The space, filled with bright lights and reflections, was permeated with an organized frenzy. Makeup artists and hair stylists, moved with precision, making sure every detail was perfect for the show.

Heeseung, sitting in a high chair in front of a mirror that reflected the buzz around him, watched everything with apparent calm. His face, transformed by flawless makeup, looked even more beautiful under the dressing room lights. A light touch of gloss on his lips made them stand out subtly but effectively, adding a touch of magic to his already captivating appearance.

As the team worked around him, Heeseung tried to keep his concentration on his own preparations, but his thoughts were constantly diverted by a presence he couldn't ignore. Out of all the movements and conversations, your lips, glistening with lip gloss, captured his full attention. It was a fleeting flash at first, but quickly became a fixation.

Your lips glistened under the dressing room lights, reflecting each beam with a tantalizing sparkle. It was as if every particle of glitter was designed to catch Heeseung's gaze. The colors seemed to change with every little movement you made, from a subtle pink to an almost silvery sparkle, creating mesmerizing highlights and shadows.

Heeseung felt time slow down as his eyes followed every movement of your lips. His focus was narrowed solely on that small but fascinating part of you. Every time you moved your mouth slightly, Heeseung felt an almost magnetic attraction. It was as if those lips were a magnet, and he couldn't help but be drawn to them.

Then, when the team of stylists and makeup artists were distracted for a moment, Heeseung saw his chance. With deliberately leisurely movements, he rose from his chair. He approached you with calculated slowness, avoiding making as little noise as possible, as if every step had to be measured and perfect. When he reached your side, he carefully positioned himself behind you.

His presence was unmistakably warm and comforting. The proximity of his body, the warmth emanating from him, was a refuge amidst the chaos of the dressing room. With an almost reverent gentleness, he wrapped his arms around you, enveloping you from behind. The embrace, though unexpected, was a mixture of tenderness and protection that seemed to offer a brief respite in the maelstrom that surrounded you.

Feeling him close, you raised a hand and gently caressed his head. Your fingernails gently brushed his hair. Slowly moving your head, you turned to look at him. His eyes, which were normally serene, were now filled with hunger. Looking at you with intensity, he tried to move even closer, his lips just inches from yours. The tension in the air was almost palpable, charged with the promise of forbidden contact.

But before his lips could touch yours, you gently pulled away, a smile full of tenderness and concern on your face. -We can't -you whispered, your words a soft murmur that only he could hear -You're going to ruin the makeup, and stylist-unnie is going to be mad

Heeseung pouted, his expression changing to one of obvious disappointment and moodiness. With a resigned sigh, he turned away from you, crossing his arms and shooting you furtive glances as he plopped down in a nearby chair. At that moment, Ni-ki, came over to you and settled into your lap. Ni-ki's body, much bigger than yours, was surprisingly warm and comforting, especially when he felt half asleep. You smiled at the scene and began to stroke his hair tenderly. As your fingers moved gently through his hair, he seemed to relax even more, enjoying this small indulgence.

In the midst of this peaceful scene, Heeseung, who had been at a distance, shared a glance with you. However, his attention again was not on your face, but on your lips.

You smiled softly, a gesture that conveyed a mixture of complicity and affection. Without looking away, you sent a small flying kiss across the room. The gesture, though simple, was charged with a cuteness that seemed to cross the distance between you with delightful efficiency.

Heeseung, picking up on the subtlety of the gesture, experienced a visible reaction. His face became tinged with a subtle blush, a change that contrasted sharply with his usual confidence. His skin, normally so controlled, now showed a slight redness extending from his cheeks to the base of his ears. He looked away with an almost imperceptible movement, his eyes trying to escape eye contact, seeking refuge on the dressing room floor.

Later, after a successful performance, Heeseung didn't waste a second. Taking you by the hand with palpable determination, he dragged you into a small cleaning room nearby. He closed the door behind you with a dry click, isolating you in the gloom of the room.

Without a word, he moved in quickly and pushed you gently against the wall. The contact was immediate and enveloping; the coldness of the wall against your back contrasted with the warmth of his body. The proximity was so intense that the air between you seemed charged with electricity.

His lips met yours in a desperate kiss. The pressure of his grip was firm, almost as if he was trying to melt into you. You felt the warmth of his body through the fabric of your clothes, a sensation that enveloped you completely.

Your hand instinctively slid to his neck and jaw. You sought support in the solidity of her figure, your fingers finding an anchor in a warm, firm skin. As you clung to him, you felt the racing rhythm of his heart. Heeseung's tongue joined the contact, exploring with an urgency that spoke of pent-up desires built up all day.

The warmth of his breath, the wetness of his lips, and the pressure of his hands on your body created a heady combination that left you breathless.

Finally, when the two separated, the air in the room felt lighter, though charged with a residual energy. As they returned to the dressing room, the contrast between the intimacy of the small room and the noise of the dressing room was palpable. The gazes of the other ENHYPEN members rested on you with a mixture of curiosity and complicity. Heeseung, now beaming, wore a satisfied smile that lit up his face. His eyes sparkled with a mixture of joy and triumph, a reflection of the intensity of the moment he had just shared.

You, on the other hand, the blush on your cheeks still lingered, and your lips, slightly swollen from the fiery encounter, gave you an air of vulnerability that you couldn't hide. The other members of the group exchanged complicit glances, knowing without words what had happened in that small cleaning room.

˖ ࣪ › Park Jongseong ー 박종성

Jay woke up slowly, slipping into a pleasant sluggishness after a long tour. The feeling of rest spread through every corner of his body, like a warm embrace that refused to let go. His eyelids slowly lifted, allowing the first glimmers of morning light to filter through the curtains, bathing the room in a faint golden luminosity.

With a lazy movement, his hand sought the familiar warmth beside him, but touched only the cold loneliness of the empty sheets. A sigh of resignation escaped his lips, a low sound that was lost in the morning silence. Jay slowly sat up, stretching his aching body and calmly waking up before pulling on a crumpled shirt he had left on the floor.

The first impulse was to find you, the need to see your face and feel your closeness.

As he left his room, his steps were soft and cautious. The kitchen, normally a place of morning calm, was filled with soft murmurs and unusual warmth. Jay approached with stealth, his steps light and his movements measured. As he peeked through the doorway, the outside world seemed to fade away, and all that remained was the scene unfolding in front of him.

There you were, in the center of the kitchen, wrapped in Jay's huge shirt that fit you like an overflowing dress. The fabric moved gracefully around your figure, accentuating your presence in a lovely way. Your hair fell freely over your shoulders, a few strands framing your face with a natural softness.

Jungwon was hugging you from behind, his arms wrapping around you with palpable softness. He was so close to you that he seemed to melt into your body. His movements were slow and synchronized, as if he was adjusting to your every move. Your back was pressed against his chest, and you moved with him like a koala clinging to a tree.

Your every little movement was accompanied by Jungwon's slight adjustment, his arms wrapped lovingly around you. His face, partially hidden in the hollow of your neck, showed an expression of serenity and contentment. Jungwon's eyes were closed, and he seemed to be immersed in a kind of deep calm, enjoying the intimate moment.

As you moved about, concentrating on preparing something in the kitchen, the sensation of his body so close to you was a constant reminder of his presence.

The image of you, wrapped in his shirt and embraced so affectionately by Jungwon, filled his heart with a mixture of emotions, he stood there, at the threshold of the kitchen, allowing the moment to be etched in his memory.

Suddenly, Jungwon, noticing Jay's presence, raised his head and slowly turned around -Hyung -he said in a soft, friendly voice. His eyes sparkled with a spark of joy.

Your attention was redirected to Jay as you heard the greeting, and as you turned, your warm, genuine smile made Jay feel even more caught up in the moment. That smile, so pure and sincere, lighting up your face in a way that made Jay's heart beat faster.

Jay watched you closely, appreciating every detail with almost reverent attention.

-Would you like some toast? -you asked, interrupting Jay's moment of admiration with a simple, everyday offer. Jay nodded, his gaze still fixed on you as he watched you fondly.

Jungwon, with a playful smile and a glint of mischief in his eyes, leaned toward you and gave you a kiss on the cheek before rising to find the others.

Seizing the opportunity, Jay rose from the table, his movements deliberate and laden with intent. Every step he took towards you was filled with desire and a certain need to be close, to wrap you in his own hug. He walked slowly, almost as if every second stretched, building anticipation in his chest.

When he reached your side, he wrapped his arms around you. His hands, firm but gentle, were placed on your waist, feeling the warmth of your skin through the thin fabric of your shirt. His touch was a constant reminder of his presence, of his desire to be near you.

The rhythm of your breathing synchronized with his, creating a bubble of calm and affection between you. Jay's proximity made you feel more aware of every little detail: the soft breath on your neck, the steady beat of his heart against your back, the way his fingers traced slow circles on your skin.

You looked at him for a few seconds, your eyes searching his, finding in them a mixture of desire and affection that made you feel even closer to him. Jay fixed his gaze on your lips, his deep dark eyes reflecting an intensity that seemed almost palpable. A mischievous smile looming on your face, playing with the anticipation of the moment.

Suddenly, when Jay leaned in to kiss you, you pulled away just in time, causing him to only press a kiss to your cheek. The fleeting contact of his lips on your skin left a warm, slightly tingling sensation spreading across your face. The surprise in his eyes quickly turned into a warning look.

-T/N -he said, his voice low and gravelly, each syllable delivered with an intensity that made you shiver. The way he said your name sent a shiver down your spine. His eyes never left yours, his expression filled with a mixture of lust and playful warning.

You watched his expression with feigned innocence, your lips curving into a slight smile as you cocked your head to one side, as if you didn't really understand what was going on. -What…? -You asked, your voice soft and curious, though your eyes sparkled with mischief.

With a quick, decisive movement, his hand moved to your neck, wrapping around it firmly, but without becoming rough. The touch of his hand was a combination of softness and authority, a clear message of his desire to control the moment. You felt the pressure of his fingers on your skin, sending a current of excitement through your body.

With a gentle but firm tug, Jay pulled you to him, eliminating any space between your bodies. The force of his action left you breathless for a moment, your heart beating frantically in your chest. Jay tilted his head and captured your lips in a fierce kiss. His lips moved with an urgency that spoke of a repressed urge, a need to reclaim what he considered his own. The kiss was deep, your mouth demanding an immediate response. You felt the force of his passion in every movement, his tongue invading your mouth with a possessive familiarity.

Jay's hand on your neck kept his pressure on, controlling your movements and making sure you couldn't escape. The intensity of his kiss left you dizzy, your hands instinctively clinging to his shirt, searching for some sort of stability.

Finally, when the air became necessary, Jay pulled away slightly, his eyes still full of desire and a satisfied smile curving his lips. He looked down at you, enjoying the reaction he had provoked in you. His fingers were still gently brushing your neck, maintaining that intimate, electrifying contact. The skin on your neck burned under his touch, and you could feel the racing beat of your own heart echoing in your ears.

His warm breath caressed your skin as he murmured defiantly -Don't play with me, T/N.

Jay released his grip gently, allowing your neck to regain its freedom. Then, he calmly pulled away and sat back down at the table, his expression affirming that he had won a small victory at your own game.

˖ ࣪ › Sim Jaeyun ー 심재윤

The band members were immersed in their rehearsal, the sound of their footsteps and the synchronization of their movements creating an energetic and almost hypnotic choreography. The lights cast reflections on their concentrated faces, and sweat glistened on their foreheads as they worked their hardest.

At that moment, the door to the hall opened with an unusual creak, breaking the frantic pace of the rehearsal. The band members, used to the routine, looked up distractedly, but the real impact of the interruption came in the form of a small golden whirlwind. Layla, Jake's beloved Golden Retriever, made her triumphant entrance, her paws wagging with playful grace and her tail waving like a banner of overflowing happiness.

Time seemed to slow down for Jake as soon as he saw Layla. The impact of the sight of his loyal pet, her eyes shining and her body shaking with excitement, was so powerful that Jake froze for a brief second. On his face was a look of astonishment that soon turned into a smile of pure happiness.

Layla, detecting Jake's gaze, let out a joyful bark and her paws rushed in his direction, moving with a speed that only dogs can achieve in a state of euphoria. Jake knelt on the ground, opening his arms to receive his furry friend's affection, and Layla leapt toward him with infectious enthusiasm. The love in his eyes was evident, and he whispered loving words as he scratched behind her ears, causing Layla to wag her tail even faster.

In a corner of the room, you were resting next to Sunoo, who had found a corner on the floor to relax after an intense session. You had made yourself comfortable on the floor with Sunoo's head resting on your stomach, the warmth and quiet of the moment providing a needed respite. Sunoo had closed his eyes momentarily, enjoying the calm, while you played with the hair at the nape of his neck, feeling the contrast between the softness of his hair and the firmness of his body.

The cameraman, stationed in a nearby corner, was capturing the authentic essence of the band's rehearsals and daily life. However, upon seeing Layla appear, he couldn't help but capture the scene with an intrigued look. Both you and Sunoo noticed the change in the atmosphere. The sound of Layla's barking filled the room, and you both stood up at the same time, drawn by the pet's vibrant presence.

Layla ran toward you, her paws pounding the floor with a frantic rhythm. When she reached your side, she pounced on you with uncontrollable exuberance, her eyes shining with happiness.

Her licks were so fast and abundant that your face was soon covered with her wet affection. His paws stretched across your chest made you feel his light but joyful weight, and you couldn't help but laugh with that infectious laughter that seems to come from deep within the heart when one is surrounded by unconditional love. The sound of your laughter mingled with the laughter and shouts of the other band members, who, seeing the scene, joined in the chorus of joy.

Jake, who watched the scene with a mixture of fondness and concern, quickly approached you. With an affectionate but determined gesture, he tried to pull Layla away from you, concerned about the dog's overflowing enthusiasm. His hands moved carefully, seeking to balance Layla's affectionate invasion with the need to allow you to breathe and recover from the barrage of licking.

As Layla continued to insist on her display of affection, Sunghoon came over and, with an amusement-filled smile, helped you up from the floor. The scene was charged with a joyful energy, and Sunghoon's face reflected genuine amusement as he extended a hand to help you to your feet. The atmosphere in the room had transformed into a spontaneous party, with Layla performing her new role as your personal bodyguard with a dedication that bordered on the comical.

Jake, with a sigh of relief and a hint of resignation, watched Layla as she settled in next to you during breaks. He watched as Layla moved next to you with such intense fidelity that, at times, it seemed almost comical. Every time you got up or moved, Layla would get up too, wagging her tail with a mixture of enthusiasm and vigilance, as if she were your personal guardian of your every move.

From the first meeting between you and Layla, the dog had demonstrated a surprising level of protectiveness and territoriality. Whenever Jake approached for a kiss, Layla seemed to detect the intent immediately. The dog would rise with a quickness that surprised, moving between Jake and you with a playful but determined energy. Before Jake could touch your lips, Layla would intervene with an enthusiastic leap, placing her muzzle between you.

The scene repeated itself with increasing frequency, and each attempt by Jake became a kind of game between him and Layla. Jake's patience was wearing thin with each new canine kiss, and his face wore an expression that combined amusement with mild exasperation.

Finally, after two days of this unusual and comical dynamic, it was time to say goodbye. Layla had to return to Australia, and the atmosphere in the room was permeated with a mixture of sadness and gratitude. The ENHYPEN members approached the dog, petting her and bidding her a fond farewell. Jake, with a fond expression and a hint of sadness in his eyes, watched as Layla slowly walked away. The dog looked back one more time before leaving, her eyes reflecting a gleam that seemed to understand the importance of the moment.

As soon as Layla walked through the door, Jake turned to you with determination. The expression on his face was a mixture of relief and lust. Without wasting any time, he took your hand with a firmness that conveyed urgency. He guided you through the hallway with quick steps, his grip on your hand revealing a mixture of anxiousness and a need to be alone with you.

When you reached your room, the door closed with a click that echoed in the air, creating an intimate and private atmosphere. His hands, firm but loving, rested on your waist, wrapping around it with a strength that made you feel his wish to hold you close. His fingers sank into the softness of your skin, pressing you against him with a passion that made you feel his warmth and his need.

He kissed you with a desperation that seemed to release all the emotion built up over the previous days. His lips found yours with an intensity that spoke of a need to connect deeply with you. Each kiss was an expression of the need to rediscover each other without interruption.

He laid you down on the bed with a mixture of intensity and care, each movement charged with pent-up emotion. His legs tangled with yours as he leaned over you, his hands still firmly gripping your waist, as if he feared you might vanish if he moved an inch away. The sensation of being gently imprisoned against him, his chest against yours, his hands on your waist, enveloped you in a wave of warmth.

When he finally broke away, the difference between the fiery passion of his kiss and the frustration that still showed on his face made you laugh. The sound of your laughter was a mixture of relief and amusement, and the contrast between the fervor of his kiss and the blush on his cheeks was comical to you. Jake, flushed and with an expression of curiosity and mild annoyance, looked at you and asked with a touch of disbelief -Why are you laughing?

You, with a playful smile on your lips, answered him with a mischievous twinkle in your eye

-I can't believe you're jealous of your own pet.

Jake's face reddened even more, a mixture of embarrassment and affection in his eyes. With a sigh of surrender and a smile, he buried his face in your neck, leaving a trail of wet, smoldering kisses. His lips moved slowly and deliberately, each kiss on your skin was like a fiery caress that ignited a wave of pleasure. His lips explored every nook and cranny of your neck, from the base to behind your ear.

-My pet tried to steal my girlfriend.

As Jake continued to fill your neck with soft kisses, you fiddled with his hair, feeling the silky texture of his locks between your fingers. His warm breath and gentle nibbles on your skin created an electrifying sensation that spread throughout your body. The small moans of pleasure that escaped your lips were absorbed by Jake's lips, their close, burning contact stoking the desire that had been building for days.

˖ ࣪ › Park Sunghoon ー 박성훈

The living room was immersed in a deep silence, a haven of calm in the daily routine. The wall clock, with its constant ticking, marked the hour when the house was usually in its most serene state. The atmosphere was peaceful, barely disturbed by the soft murmur of the television, which cast a warm light over the space, accentuating the tranquility of the evening. At that moment, the only inhabitant in the apartment was you, enjoying the solitude and quiet while the others were busy fulfilling their commitments.

You were on the sofa, sinking into its soft cushions, immersed in your thoughts. Each time the clock ticked another minute, it seemed that the silence deepened, enveloping the room in an almost palpable sense of peace. The corner you had settled into felt like a little haven where you could disconnect from the constant activity that normally surrounded your life.

Suddenly, the sound of the front door opening broke the silence of the room. The entrance made its presence known with a slight creak, and the echo of the door closing quickly faded into the air. You curiously sat up from your position on the couch, your mind anticipating the arrival of Heeseung, who should be returning from one of our long recording sessions.

Instead of him, it was Sunghoon who stood there, an unexpected change to the usual picture. Sunghoon appeared with a remarkable presence; his defined muscles were taut and glistening in the soft light of the foyer, giving him an almost heroic air in his appearance. He was wearing gray sweatpants that clung to his athletic figure, accentuating the firmness of his posture. The fabric of the absorbent material was slightly clinging to his skin, revealing the traces of his recent workout.

The intensity of his training was reflected in the slight panting he still dragged with him, and his breathing, though regular, seemed to carry an intensity you had learned to recognize.

Sunghoon, noticing your gaze, could not help but smile with a mixture of satisfaction and mischief. His smile, which started at the corners of his lips and spread to light up his eyes, was a reflection of the amusement he felt at seeing your reaction.

He advanced towards you with firm, determined steps. You knew exactly what he was going to do, and the familiarity of his actions only heightened the anticipation you felt.

You tried to deflect the situation with a warning tone that, despite its serious intent, was far from convincing. -Don't do it -you told him. The warning tone was almost a game in itself.

Sunghoon, with his expression of feigned innocence, arched an eyebrow in a gesture that only accentuated his mischievous smile. -What shouldn't I do? -he asked, his voice soft and teasing. The question was clearly meant to prolong the game, and his naughty smirk was a clear indication that he already knew the answer to his own question. His gaze did not leave yours, and you could see in his eyes the spark of amusement that lit up his face.

Sunghoon moved with a speed that surprised you, and in an instant, you found yourself caught in his arms. The force with which he enveloped you was firm and sure, preventing any possibility of escape. The contact of his hardened abdomen against you was unavoidable, and every tense muscle was felt through the fabric of his sport shirt. The intensity of the workout was reflected in the feel of his skin, which, though still warm from exertion, was moist and slippery.

You tried to move, twisting and writhing, trying to free yourself from his tight embrace. The texture of his sweaty skin under your hands and the firmness of his grip made your movements limited. Each attempt at release only seemed to tighten the embrace, and the heat built up between you became increasingly noticeable. Despite your efforts, you couldn't help but feel the security and comfort that came with close contact.

Finally, you surrendered to the inevitable reality of the moment. The struggle to free yourself faded into an acceptance of his embrace, and you allowed him to settle against you. Sunghoon, aware of your surrender, adjusted his position with a mixture of softness and satisfaction. His movements were smooth and meticulous, as if each adjustment was designed to maximize your comfort, despite the lingering wetness of his skin.

As he settled in, Sunghoon leaned toward you. The sound of his breath on your neck, combined with the warmth of his skin, created a sense of intimacy that was hard to ignore. His face, buried in the hollow of your neck, seemed to seek refuge in you, and the sweat on his skin mingled with the warmth of your own body.

Despite your discomfort, there was something undeniably tender in Sunghoon's gesture. The closeness and the way he clung to you, the warmth of his body and the faint scent of sweat he left in the air.

The contrast between the sweat and the warmth of his skin, along with the softness of his hug, created an enveloping atmosphere.

Sunghoon, feeling the need to assess the situation, stepped back slightly. His eyes softened, and a tender smile appeared on his lips as he saw how adorable you looked at that moment. The look on his face reflected a mixture of affection and amusement, and he leaned toward you, bringing his lips close to yours with the intention of kissing you. However, you dodged the contact, turning your head slightly away.

-You don't deserve it -you said, trying to maintain a tone of indignation.

Sunghoon, with a derisive chuckle escaping his lips, was not deterred by your evasion. Without warning, he pressed you against the wall of his room with a nimble and decisive movement. The action was swift, and before you could react, his legs were placed between yours, pulling you even closer to him. The brush of his body against yours, combined with the firmness of his grip, created a sense of closeness that was hard to ignore.

He leaned into you, and the brush of his lips against your neck was delicate, but loaded with intentionality. His breathing, deep and rhythmic, became more noticeable as he drew closer. The soft kiss on your neck was a light caress, his mouth moving deftly along your skin, exploring every sensitive nook and cranny with a precision that made you shiver.

The brush of his lips, though gentle, was effective in provoking a response in your body, causing an involuntary tremor to spread from the point of contact to the rest of your skin. The combination of the warmth of his body and the moist touch of his breath created a sensory experience that was hard to ignore.

-Sunghoon… don't mark-s -you said in a shaky whisper, trying to maintain a semblance of seriousness as you felt the effect of his caresses. The tone in your voice, though laden with warning, failed to hide the pleasure you were experiencing.

Sunghoon, with a playful expression on his face, decided to intensify the game. He gently pinched your waist, a movement that, though slight, caused a gasp to escape your lips. The pinch, unexpected and sudden, was enough to make you shiver, and your body reacted instantly to the surprise. The mixture of pain and pleasure set off a series of chain reactions, increasing the closeness between the two of you.

Taking advantage of the moment when your body tensed and you gave in to gasping, Sunghoon leaned even closer to you. His lips found yours in a kiss that started soft but quickly became more intense. The intensity of his kisses was palpable; his lips moved with an urgency and hunger that left no doubt about the desire he felt, a combination that was impossible to ignore.

Every movement of his tongue against yours seemed to be a declaration of his desires, and you, between whispers and moans, surrendered to the experience with submission. His hands, still firmly positioned on your waist, guided you toward the bathroom.

Sunghoon moved with smooth determination, never stopping kissing you for an instant. The bathroom door closed with a soft click behind you, plunging you into an even more intimate space. The room was illuminated by a soft light, creating a cozy and private atmosphere.

With a fluid gesture, Sunghoon turned on the shower faucet, and the hot water began to fill the space with an enveloping steam. The temperature of the water, combined with the gathering steam, created a warm, moist atmosphere that enveloped their bodies. Sunghoon, without taking his eyes off you, began to strip off your clothes, his movements slow and careful while his lips still sought yours in a lingering kiss.

˖ ࣪ › Kim Seonwoo ー 김선우

The drive back to the dormitories was quiet, with the sound of the car's engine being the only background noise. The night sky was clear, revealing a blanket of stars twinkling softly above the moving vehicle. Street lamps dimly illuminated the deserted streets, casting long, eerie shadows that danced to the rhythm of the car's lights. The interior of the vehicle was warm and comfortable, providing a cozy shelter from the cold breeze of the night outside.

Ni-ki, his young energy already spent, rested with his face buried in your neck. You felt his soft, rhythmic breathing, a warm whisper against your skin. His soft hair tickled your neck with every little movement. Ni-ki's arms, despite his drowsiness, clung lightly to you. With every little bump in the road, his body would instinctively adjust, snuggling closer and seeking an even more comfortable position.

Sunoo, on the other hand, snuggled into your lap, his light weight and slender body fitting snugly against yours. Her hair, silky and fine, slipped through your fingers as you played with it. You felt the softness of his hair, creating a soothing sensation that helped you calm your own restless thoughts.

Concern for Sunoo kept nagging at the back of your mind. All day long you had noticed his tiredness and distraction. You watched every little gesture, every slow blink and every sigh, trying to decipher what could be going through his mind. You saw the tension in his shoulders and the slight dullness in his eyes that indicated his exhaustion.

The dim light from inside the car illuminated his face, revealing his delicate features and the tranquility that could only be experienced in sleep. You decided not to move until the cart finally stopped at the apartment complex, wanting to prolong that moment of peace and connection with the two maknaes.

Finally, the car arrived at its destination. The engine was turned off and the silence grew even deeper. You woke the two maknaes gently, whispering their names and stroking their cheeks so they would slowly wake up. Ni-ki woke slowly, his eyes still half closed, blinking heavily against the soft light inside the carriage. Sunoo moved lazily, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand and stretching like a small cat, letting out a tired sigh.

Everyone got out of the vehicle and you felt Heeseung put his arm around you, providing support and a touch of warmth in the cold night. The cool night air snuck in through the open spaces, making you snuggle a little more into his embrace. The managers waved goodbye to you with a smile and a nod of approval, as you headed inside the building. As you went upstairs, the silence remained, only interrupted by the soft hum of the elevator slowly ascending.

Each floor you passed increased the sense of calm and the accumulated exhaustion of the day seemed to settle even more on your shoulders.

The elevator stopped with a slight clink and the doors slowly opened. Arriving at Jake, Sunoo and Jungwon's floor, you turned to Sunghoon, who was watching the maknaes with concern.

-Sunghoon, can I stay with the maknaes tonight? -Your voice was a whisper that barely broke the silence of the hallway.

Sunghoon looked at you with surprise at first, then his expression softened in understanding. His eyes reflected slight curiosity and concern as he replied.

-Sure, but may I know why, are you okay? -He asked, his tone showing a mixture of genuine concern and a need to understand.

You turned to Sunoo, who looked just as tired, if not worse, than he did at the end of the recordings that afternoon. His eyes were dull, and his posture betrayed a deep exhaustion that seemed to sink his shoulders downward. His movements were slow and heavy, as if each step cost him monumental effort.

-I'm worried about Sunoo, and I want to take care of him tonight -you replied.

Sunghoon nodded slowly, his gaze shifting from you to Sunoo and then back to you. His lips formed a small sympathetic smile as he looked at the young man intently, recognizing the need for your request.

The soft glow of the lights illuminated everyone's tired faces. You said goodbye to Heeseung with a soft kiss on the mouth, feeling the warmth in his gesture, a silent promise to be there for you.

You did the same with Sunghoon, who kissed you back with a quiet smile. His lips were warm and soft, and the kiss was a mutual comfort. Jay also received a kiss on the lips, his hand clasped briefly around yours in a gesture of silent support.

When you reached Ni-ki, who could barely keep his eyes open, you kissed him on the cheek and caressed him tenderly. His skin was warm under your lips and his breathing was slow and heavy with exhaustion. The brush of your fingers on his cheek brought a slight smile to his face before his eyes closed again.

Jake was waiting for you outside the elevator, his tall, comforting figure standing out in the dimly lit hallway. He took your hand with a gentleness that contrasted with his usual strength. His hand was firm but gentle, conveying a sense of security.

As you entered the apartment, the atmosphere was calm and orderly. Jungwon, who had been conversing quietly with Jake in the hallway, approached you with a genuine smile and gave you a kiss on the lips. It was a brief gesture but full of affection, his lips were soft and warm.

Jake wrapped his arms around you, enveloping you in a comforting embrace. His arms were strong and protective, the embrace was brief but intensely warm, his lips touching yours in a soft kiss that left a trace of warmth on your skin.

You approached Sunoo, who was in the kitchen, leaning on the table with a glass of water in his hand. His posture looked tired, and his skin paled slightly under the kitchen light. Touching his face with a gentle hand, you felt the warmth of his skin, and he slowly opened his eyes. Fatigue was clearly visible in his expression, but at the sight of you, a faint smile appeared on his lips. That smile, though faint, gave you a breath of relief; at least he didn't seem to have a fever, and that reassured you.

-Should we go to bed? -you asked softly, the concern in your eyes evident, but your tone was calm and comforting.

Sunoo nodded slightly, his hand taking yours with a delicacy that reflected his exhaustion. Together, you walked towards your room, the floor of the apartment creaking softly under your footsteps, echoing faintly in the quiet hallway.

They entered his room, a space decorated in a simple but cozy style.

You told Sunoo that he needed to change to sleep. Though he groaned with a slight sigh, he walked to his drawer. The movement of his legs was leisurely and fatigued, and his posture clearly reflected the accumulated fatigue. He opened the drawer with a trembling hand and began to search through his collection of comfortable clothes.

Meanwhile, you stood near the bed, watching Sunoo rummage through her clothes. The room was shrouded in dim light, which came from a table lamp in the corner, creating a warm, soft glow that accentuated the quiet atmosphere. The soft hum of the heater in the background added an additional layer of comfort to the space.

Sunoo stopped and asked you in a faint voice -Why don't you change?

-I wasn't really planning to stay with you, so I don't have pajamas -you admitted, a little flushed by the confession.

He returned to his drawer and, with a deliberate movement, offered you one of his shirts. The garment was obviously large for you, its long sleeves and loose-fitting fabric contrasting with your figure. The shirt was made of a soft, comfortable material, and had a familiar scent that made you feel even closer to him.

-You can wear this -Sunoo said, his voice had a soft tone, full of care and a hint of concern for your well-being.

Sunoo's scent intensified as you wrapped yourself in the garment, filling you with a sense of comfort and closeness.

Sunoo, watched you with a gaze that combined admiration and affection. His eyes followed your every move, and he couldn't help but break the silence with a voice full of sincerity.

-You're beautiful -Sunoo said, his words floating in the air with a soft tone full of affection.

You blushed at the compliment, warmth spreading across your cheeks as you turned to him.

-Thank you -you said, your voice a whisper full of gratitude.

You approached him with a gentle, attentive manner, your movements careful and deliberate, as if you wanted to make sure you didn't invade his personal space.

-Do you want me to wash your face? -you asked in a soft tone of voice, almost like a whisper, your eyes fixed on his with an expression of sincere care.

Sunoo nodded slowly, his eyes already heavy with fatigue. He settled himself near the sink, allowing you to approach with all the attention you offered him. The mood in the bathroom was serene, with the warm light creating a play of soft shadows on her fatigued features. You immediately sprang into action.

You began to wet a small towel with warm water, the sound of dripping water the only noise that broke the still silence. With delicate movements, you began to clean Sunoo's face, who, half asleep, was enjoying your gentle massage on his skin.

His arms were wrapped around you with a strength that, although relaxed, conveyed a sense of security.

Your fingers moved in small, meticulous circles, gently massaging his cheeks and forehead. Sunoo relaxed under your touch, his eyelids slowly closing and his lips curving into a contented expression. He opened his eyes from time to time to look at your face, completely focused on the care you were giving him.

When your eyes finally met his, Sunoo raised a hand slowly, touching your cheek tenderly. His touch was subtle, but it was full of affection. His hand was warm and his touch, though light, was firm in its gratitude. He drew you to him gently, as if he wanted to make sure you were as close as possible. The pressure of his arms around your waist did not slacken, keeping you immobilized.

Carefully, you finished wiping the soap residue from his face. The soft towel moved easily over his skin, encircled by his firmly secured arms. Finally, after completely drying his face, Sunoo looked up at you with an expression of sincere thanks. His voice, laden with a sleepy, loving tone, broke the silence.

-Give me a kiss -Sunoo asked in a low, melodic voice, a request that combined tenderness and a touch of neediness.

You approached him with a warm smile and kissed his forehead gently.

-Not there, noona… -he complained with a slight pout on his lips.

You smiled at his complaint, the play on words and the childish gesture gave him an adorable air. You slowly moved down to kiss both of his cheeks, the contact was soft and affectionate. Each kiss was a light caress on his tired skin, and you felt the tension in his face begin to relax under your touch.

However, Sunoo seemed to lose patience.

In a decisive, passionate move, he lifted you up and placed you on the countertop of the bathroom sink. The cool surface of the sink contrasted with the warmth of your body, creating an intriguing and electrifying sensation.

Once you were seated on the countertop, Sunoo positioned himself between your legs. He kissed you with an intensity that took you by surprise. The kiss was urgent, his lips pressed against yours with a palpable need. His hands moved firmly around your waist, pressing you even more against him and creating a physical connection that seemed unbreakable.

Your hands rested on his shoulders, feeling the muscle tense under the fabric of his shirt. The strength of his grip enveloped you in a sense of security, and the closeness between you was almost overwhelming.

Sunoo, with a purposeful movement, guided your legs around his tiny waist, making sure you were completely connected to him. The way his hands moved across your body was firm but full of care, each gesture conveying a mixture of desire and protectiveness. His hands were positioned just below where your ass began, offering solid support as he carried you in his arms towards the bed.

The sensation of being carried by him was both comforting and exciting. His steps were sure as he made his way to the bed, and the contact of his body with yours was a constant source of warmth and closeness. He gently settled you on the bed, lowering you gently onto the mattress with reverent care.

Sunoo broke the kiss and looked at you with an expression of deep affection. his eyes, searching yours, and the silence between you was filled with a quiet but powerful connection. The light in the room went out, plunging the room into a warm, cozy gloom.

He got into bed next to you, his movements gentle but sure, as if he wanted to make sure you were completely comfortable and tucked in. His arm went around you, and he placed his face in the crook of your neck. The warmth of his breath against your skin was comforting.

As you settled into the bed, your hands began to gently play with his hair. Each caress was a delicate and loving gesture, moving your fingers slowly through her silky locks. The touch of your hands in his hair was comforting to both you and him, creating an atmosphere of tranquility and closeness.

Sunoo snuggled closer, his breaths becoming deeper and more regular as he settled into the bed. His body was completely relaxed against yours, and the warmth of his embrace enveloped you in a sense of security and peace. The gentle rhythm of his breaths on your neck helped you relax, and the closeness between you created a perfect space to rest.

˖ ࣪ › Yang Jungwon ー 양정원

The studio was meticulously prepared for the occasion, lit with bright lights that reflected a vibrant and welcoming atmosphere. The décor was reminiscent of a traditional classroom, with desks, chairs and various school supplies arranged in an orderly fashion. The atmosphere was designed to make conversation flow naturally, as if it were a casual conversation between classmates.

You and Jungwon were seated at a table in the center of the set. You were both wearing student uniforms, the attire evoking a youthful and fresh image. When you sat down at the desk, Jungwon noticed that there was nothing to cover your legs. With a thoughtful gesture, he asked for a blanket to be brought to you, wanting to make sure you would be comfortable during the recording.

The MC, a friendly young man about the same age as you, led the conversation with enthusiasm and curiosity. His questions focused on both of your school experiences, exploring topics such as favorite subjects and funniest anecdotes from your time at school.

Whenever the MC spoke to you, his eyes sparkled with a mixture of interest and admiration. It was evident that he found you a source of fascination, and this behavior did not go unnoticed by Jungwon. His jaw visibly tensed, and a shadow of concern darkened his gaze. The situation was becoming increasingly palpable to him, as he watched the MC become more and more attentive and dedicated in his conversation with you.

The MC, seeking to add a touch of familiarity to the conversation, proposed an idea. With a friendly smile and a casual tone, he said - Should we ever go out for a meal and a drink together? That would be fun, don't you think?"

Your reaction was immediate. You laughed sheepishly, feeling a slight warmth in your cheeks. You looked at the MC with a soft smile and replied -Sure, that would be fun someday -Although your response was kind and open, you did so with a modesty that reflected your shyness.

The MC, with an expression of curiosity and amusement on his face, decided to change the subject to keep the mood light and entertaining. He looked at Jungwon with a playful smile and, in a tone that invited an interesting anecdote.

-Hey, Jungwon, what was T/N like in school? Was she popular or something?

Jungwon, adjusted his posture, seeking to appear relaxed.

-Well… T/N noona was pretty famous. I'm not kidding, Heeseung Hyung used to go to look for her at her salon because she was always surrounded by people. She was like a star, everyone wanted to spend time with her….

While Jungwon was telling the story, his hand, unbeknownst to you, started to move gently under the blanket covering you. The sensation of his hand slowly sliding up your thigh was unexpected, and a slight shiver ran across your skin. The softness of the touch surprised you, and your mind struggled to stay focused on the conversation.

The MC, seemingly oblivious to the tension that had settled under the blanket, turned his attention back to Jungwon with a knowing smile. He scratched his chin, as if pondering an interesting question.

-So, Jungwon, what do you think about me dating T/N, would you give me your approval? -he asked.

As he asked the question, the MC pointed to the screen behind him, which showed clips of Jungwon acting very protective of you at various events. In the videos, he could be seen keeping a close eye on your interactions with others, and on one occasion, even playfully interrupting a conversation between you and another idol friend.

Jungwon, with an expression of seriousness that contrasted with the light tone of the conversation, pressed his hand on your thigh more firmly. He slowly ran his hand up your thigh and with a serious tone, he replied -No, I definitely wouldn't give you my approval.

The comment caused an awkward silence in the studio. The laughter died down and the atmosphere became tense, with those present clearly surprised by Jungwon's seriousness. The light atmosphere had quickly evaporated.

Jungwon, noticing the change in the atmosphere and intending to soften the situation, tried to correct the tone with a forced smile and an attempt at humor -It's just that, honestly, you'd break the fans' hearts! I can't allow that.

Jungwon's joke managed to partially relieve the tension, and the atmosphere on the recording set began to return to its original tone. The laughter timidly resumed and the MC followed up with a couple more questions. Although the atmosphere had relaxed, Jungwon kept his hand firmly on your thigh, squeezing from time to time with an intensity that made it difficult to concentrate on the conversation.

Finally, the MC applauded to close the interview and expressed his thanks to all the participants. The set was filled with a hubbub of goodbyes and greetings. Politely, you said goodbye to the production team, trying to maintain a professional attitude. You felt the pressure of Jungwon's gaze on your back, but made a conscious effort not to look back at him. The intensity of his gaze was palpable, almost as if he could burn you from a distance. Without pausing, you quickly made your way to the dressing room, seeking a refuge where you could clear your mind and take a breather.

Arriving at the dressing room, you plopped down in a chair located in a secluded corner. You pulled out your phone, hoping to immerse yourself in some distraction that would help you unwind. You checked messages and notifications, though in reality your mind was focused on the recent incident. You weren't completely annoyed, but it was clear that Jungwon's behavior couldn't become a norm every time he felt threatened.

Suddenly, you felt Jungwon approaching, his presence unmistakable and powerful. You tried to get up and fetch a bottle of water to avoid confrontation, but Jungwon wouldn't let you move. With a swift movement, he grabbed your hand with a strength that surprised you, and pulled you to him with an intensity that made you bump against his firm chest.

The unexpected contact made your heart race. You felt the warmth of his body and the beat of his heart against yours. Jungwon lowered his head, his face close to yours, and his voice sounded husky.

-I'm sorry... -he said, his eyes searching yours with an intensity that showed his sincerity, though his behavior did not warrant it.

You did not respond immediately. The physical closeness and the intensity of his gaze made you feel nervous. Your heart was pounding, the effect his close presence had on you.

Jungwon, noticing your silence, leaned closer to you, his lips urgently approaching yours. He tried to kiss you, his lips were warm and his breath brushed your skin. Despite your effort to avoid the kiss, his hand on your waist was firm, almost relentless, holding you close to him. His embrace was not a cage, but a barrier that made it difficult to move freely.

-Jungwon, this is not the way to handle things -you said, trying to remain calm despite the trembling in your voice. -You're supposed to trust me….

Jungwon, with an expression of frustration and despair on his face, sank his face into your neck. The heat of his skin against yours was almost scorching, and the wet contact of his kisses on your skin made you shiver. His kisses and warm breath created a charged atmosphere that made it difficult to hold in the anger you felt.

-I trust you, but not what the others might do -Jungwon murmured, his voice low and laden with a mixture of anguish and desire. His lips continued to leave wet kisses on your neck.

With considerable effort, you pulled his face away from your neck and held him gently by the sides of his face. His eyes met yours, dark with burning desire.

-I belong to you -you whispered, almost as if sharing an intimate secret.

Jungwon did not respond with words. Instead, he leaned forward, his lips crashing against yours in an urgent, burning kiss. The initial contact was like a spark igniting a flame; the softness of your lips mingled with desperate intensity. His hands, still firmly clinging to your waist, pressed you against him with a palpable need, as if he feared the moment would fade.

His tongue, warm and soft, slid in with an expert touch, playing and teasing with enveloping movements that made you sigh.

Your hands slid into his hair, tangling in the nape of his neck with a fervor that responded to the fervent kiss. You felt the texture of his locks under your fingers, each tug and caress entangling your deepest emotions in the act of kissing. His hands descended to your hips, exerting a firm but passionate pressure that made you feel even closer to him.

Jungwon, with a mixture of determination and passion, began to lean back. Without breaking the kiss, he sat down on the couch. He made you settle astride him, the pressure of his body against yours amplifying the shared pleasure.

In the middle of the kiss, Jungwon bit your lower lip urgently. The bite was a gesture charged with intensity; his teeth sank gently into the flesh of your lip, creating a sensation of pressure that combined the tender and the passionate. The sensation of his hot breath, combined with the bite, made every second of the kiss feel like an eternity of shared enjoyment.

Then, he parted slightly, bringing their foreheads together in a gesture of complicity. The warmth of their bodies melted into a comforting calm. The tensions of the moment seemed to dissipate in the intimacy of their embrace. The outside world seemed to fade away, leaving them in a bubble of tranquility.

˖ ࣪ › Nishimura Riki ー 西村 力

After one of the tour's concerts, the atmosphere was permeated with the residual energy of the performance. The excitement of the audience was still vibrating in the air, mingling with the smell of sweat and lotion from the band members left in the dressing room. Upon returning to the hotel, an atmosphere of relaxation and camaraderie settled in your room, where you, Sunoo and Ni-ki were looking to decompress the tension of the day.

We had decided to play Super Smash Bros after the group dinner, a lively gathering that included the rest of the staff and the other members of the group. The dinner had been a mix of laughter, lively conversation and inside jokes that only those who lived through the experience together could fully understand. The restaurant had been full of life, the tables overflowing with exquisite dishes that contrasted with the fast food they often resorted to on tour. Stomachs full and spirits high, the decision to follow the evening with a game seemed perfect.

In your hotel room, the soft light from the table lamps created a warm and cozy atmosphere. Thick curtains blocked the view of the city, isolating the space from the hustle and bustle outside. The three of you were at ease on the bed, a vast expanse of white sheets that rustled with every movement. Ni-ki lay between your legs, his body relaxed against yours, his head resting on your stomach. You could feel his rhythmic breathing, the slight rise and fall of his chest. Every now and then, his soft hair brushed against your skin, causing a pleasant tingling sensation.

Sunoo, with his inexhaustible energy, was facing the TV, lying on his stomach. His legs swayed in the air, feet moving to the rhythm of an imaginary melody. His eyes sparkled in the light of the screen, a reflection of changing colors that illuminated his face with an almost childlike enthusiasm. The television screen, excessively large for the room, projected a bluish light that bathed the space in an atmosphere of playfulness.

The three of them stared at the screen, controls in their hands, each absorbed in their own strategy and concentration. Friendly competitiveness hung in the air, a subtle current that maintained the tension of the game, but without breaking the atmosphere of complicity. Every time Sunoo won, his little shouts of excitement could be heard. His high-pitched, clear voice echoed in the room, and his leaps on the bed made the sheets crumple under his weight. His movements were quick and effusive, as if each victory injected him with an extra dose of energy. His eyes would close for a second, his hands raised in triumph, and his laughter would fill the space, a melody of pure happiness.

When you won, the feeling was different. You let out an elongated "yessssss", an exclamation held back by Ni-ki's weight on you. It was a sound of deep satisfaction, but tempered by the presence of your boyfriend on top of you. You could feel his head move slightly with your exclamation, but he remained in place, seeking comfort in your closeness.

That night was definitely not Ni-ki's night. He barely won once, which had him grumpy. His face showed a mixture of intense concentration and mounting frustration. Each defeat was reflected in his eyes, a spark of irritation that quickly faded into resignation. His lips formed a thin line, and his sighs were deeper, almost as if with each exhale he was trying to release pent-up frustration.

Time passed almost unnoticed, and soon the clock struck one in the morning. The room was still illuminated by the dim light of the television and the soft glow of the table lamps, which cast elongated shadows on the walls. Suddenly, the sound of the telephone broke the atmosphere of concentration and playfulness. Sunghoon was calling to say that Sunoo had to return to the room they shared.

The vibrant energy of the game and Sunoo's company had faded away, leaving a quiet calm in its place. You shared a room with Ni-ki, while Sunghoon was with Sunoo, Jay with Jungwon and Heeseung with Jake. This room sharing was familiar, a routine part of life on tour, each finding comfort in the company of their designated roommate.

While you were in the bathroom doing your skin care routine, you listened to the soft murmur of the room and the low hum of the air conditioner. The bathroom was illuminated by warm, soft light, reflecting off the mirrors and creating a soothing ambiance.

As you carefully applied moisturizer to your face, you felt arms wrap around you from behind. At first, it was a light pressure, as if Ni-ki was testing whether his affection would be welcome. Then, the arms squeezed tighter, enveloping you in a warm, firm embrace. You continued with your routine, moving with the familiarity of rehearsed movements, as Ni-ki, koala-like, hugged you from behind. His face was buried in your neck, and you could feel his warm breath against your skin. The faint whisper of his breath, along with the weight of his head on your shoulder, created a sense of protection.

His arms were firmly entwined around your waist, his body glued to yours insistently. Despite his usual dislike of physical affection, he would occasionally get like this, clingy to the point where he wouldn't let go. Over time, you had learned to accept and, in fact, expect these moments. Physical closeness was a form of silent communication, a way for Ni-ki to express her feelings without the need for words.

As you applied the cream to your face, your movements became slower and more careful, taking the time to savor the moment. You could feel Ni-ki slowly relax, his breathing becoming deeper and more regular.

Looking through the mirror, you noticed the pout on Ni-ki's face with a clarity that stood out against the brightness of the sink. -Why are you pouting? -you asked, your voice soft and curious, trying to soften the moment with a touch of humor.

Ni-ki lifted his head slightly from your neck, his face so close to yours that you could feel the warmth of his breath on your skin. -I'm not pouting -he replied in a defensive tone. The response, far from discouraging you, only added to the tenderness of the situation. Laughter escaped your lips, a soft but joyful sound that mingled with the echo of the bathroom.

As the laughter faded, you carefully arranged your skin care products on the shelf. Then, you leaned against the sink, your eyes reflecting Ni-ki's image as he raised his head to look at you.

The light from the bath, soft and warm, brought out the details of Ni-ki's face. His eyes, a little hesitantly, sought yours in the mirror, but were soon diverted as the color in his cheeks intensified. He turned red, the blush spreading from the tips of his ears to his cheeks, a clear sign of his embarrassment. Then he buried his face in your neck again, seeking refuge in the warmth and comforting embrace.

The sight of Ni-ki hiding in your neck elicited another wave of laughter from you, this time more joyful and deeper. -Don't laugh, noona -he said in a plaintive voice, the tone slightly distorted by the proximity of your skin. The way the words were muffled by your position made the sound feel even closer and more tender.

As Ni-ki continued with his face buried in your neck, he whispered softly, the words almost inaudible, -I lost because I was tired. Otherwise, I would have beaten Sunoo hyung and you -His words were a whisper full of sincerity and self-righteousness. The way his breath caressed your neck added an extra layer of cuteness to the moment.

You turned slowly, moving carefully so as not to disrupt the embrace and the sense of closeness they had created. Your every movement was deliberate, trying to maintain the softness of the moment as you positioned yourself so that you were facing Ni-ki. The light from the bath fell softly on both of you, creating a warm glow that accentuated the intimacy of the environment.

With a gentleness that reflected the affection you felt, you lifted a hand and placed it gently on her cheek. The touch of your fingers on his skin was light, but filled with a tenderness that could be felt in every caress. The warmth of your hand seemed to absorb the tension in his face, providing a small breath of comfort. Then, you slowly leaned toward him, making sure not to rush, to give him a kiss on the cheek.

Ni-ki's reaction was immediate. His cheeks grew even redder, a color that seemed to intensify with each passing second. The skin on his face took on a warm, glowing hue that contrasted with the soft light of the bath. His eyes averted from yours, unable to hold your gaze, and his body tensed slightly in an attempt to control his embarrassment. The shy smile that appeared on her lips was small but significant.

Without warning, Ni-ki hid his face in your neck again. The blush on his cheeks seemed to radiate warmth, and the slight tremor in his breathing revealed the intensity of his emotion.

-You're so cute -you told him with a soft voice and a mixture of amusement in your words.

-I'm not cute! I'm already a man! -he protested with a mixture of indignation and disdain, his voice slightly drowned out by the contact with your neck. The need to assert his maturity only underscored the cuteness you felt.

-Yes, of course -you replied with a hint of sarcasm in your voice, the smile tugging at your lips revealing the amused disagreement with her self-assessment. The response was laden with a playful warmth, a way to continue the game you had started.

-Give me a real kiss -he requested, his voice sounding almost pleading and full of longing. A way of asking for a gesture of affection that, was clearly charged with affection. His face, still hidden in your neck, moved slightly in an attempt to look you in the eye, though his gaze remained partially hidden.

-I already gave you a real one. It's the kiss you deserve for placing third in Smash -you told him, sticking your tongue out playfully.

Ni-ki reacted with a series of dramatic complaints. -That's unfair! -his tone was filled with a mixture of frustration and amusement, as if he was angry, but he couldn't help but smile.

You laughed, a clear and joyful sound that echoed in the bathroom, creating a warm and light atmosphere. The laughter drifted softly, full of affection and amusement, and mingled with the echo of the walls. After the laughter, you walked away to the small table where you were charging your cell phone. Ni-ki followed you, moving with light, purposeful steps, his presence a constant at your side, like a shadow that didn't want to miss a second of your attention.

When you turned to rearrange the bed, the sight of Ni-ki in the middle of the comforter was almost comical. He had thrown himself in the center, flattening the comforter with an air of triumph. The comforter crumpled and sagged under his weight, creating a mountain of soft, disheveled fabric piled around his figure. Ni-ki was stretched out in a carefree manner, arms outstretched at his sides and legs slightly spread, as if the comforter had been custom-made for his form. His attitude reflected a mixture of defiance and comfort, an image of total relaxation amidst the mess.

-Ni-ki, get up, please -you asked, with a hint of amusement in your tone.

He shook his head, a firm and determined movement that underlined his obstinacy. The refusal was clear and defiant, a gesture that made it clear he had no intention of moving. As you tried to pull the comforter from under his body, you were met with solid resistance. Ni-ki remained immobile, his weight creating an effective barrier that made it nearly impossible to move the quilt without moving him first. Every tug and adjustment of the comforter revealed the difficulty of moving it, and the way he resisted only accentuated his determination to remain in position.

You moved closer to where his face was, which was partially hidden between the wrinkles of the comforter. As you met his face, you saw an expression of mischief mixed with amusement. His eyes sparkled with a mischievous sparkle and his smile, slightly hidden, seemed wider as he tried to maintain his defiant attitude.

-Please get off -you repeated, your voice laden with a mixture of exasperation and laughter. The repetition of the request was not without endearment, and the tone in your voice was a combination of gentle pleading.

Ni-ki, however, simply shook his head again, his attitude stubborn and his body still squashed into the comforter. The slight curve of his lips, still visibly tilted in a mischievous smile, left no doubt that he was enjoying every moment of this little tug-of-war.

You were standing on the side of the bed, your hands resting on either side of his head, creating a natural frame around his face. The proximity between you was remarkable. The distance between your face and his was close enough for your breaths to mingle.

-What do I have to do to get you off? -your question was soft and playful, laden with a mixture of curiosity and amusement. The tone of your voice, light and full of affection, was infused with a tinge of sweetness that reflected your willingness to continue this little game. Your body leaned forward slightly, drawing you even closer to him

-Give me a real kiss -he replied, his words coming out with a clarity that underscored his desire for a genuine gesture of affection. The way he phrased his request, with a slight elevation in the tone of his voice, revealed his expectation.

You laughed softly, a sound that filled the air with a light and cheerful melody. The laughter that escaped your lips had an infectious quality to it, adding a touch of amusement to the moment. With a smile on your lips and a gaze full of tenderness, you leaned into him.

The kiss was firm and determined, your lips acting with a pressure that, though intense, maintained a sweet quality. The feel of his lips against yours was warm and moist, a contact that conveyed an underlying urgency but also a deep affection.

As the kiss unfolded, you felt the warmth of his breath mingling with yours. Each exhalation from Ni-ki was a warm whisper that caressed your skin, the sensation of his breath creating an atmosphere of closeness that made the outside world seem to fade away.

You caressed his cheek with a gentleness that contrasted with the intensity of the kiss. Your fingertips traced soft paths over his skin, adding a sense of calm and softness to the frenzy of the moment. Ni-ki let out a sigh of contentment, the sound escaping his mouth with a mixture of relief and pleasure. The sigh was deep and drawn out, an echo of the joy and contentment he felt at that moment. The vibration of his breath against your lips and the way his body relaxed slightly revealed how deeply he appreciated the gesture.

When you finally broke away from him, the look on Ni-ki's face reflected a mixture of complete satisfaction and happiness -I won.

[tacticalprincess]

tw somno, dubcon

könig using your pussy as a soothing agent for his nightmares. :(

you convince yourself it makes sense. he sees you as proof of everything good in the world, the one and only thing dear to him. sometimes when he sleeps his subconscious convinces him he’s still out on the battlefield, replaying his worst, most unlivable moments. so when he wakes up and needs something real and good to cling onto, simply clutching you tighter in his heavy arms isn’t enough. he complains that he can never get you as close as he needs you, so in moments like these it’s not uncommon to wake up to him slipping inside your soft, pliant pussy. all he has to do is lift your leg up and ease into your sleeping body from behind, and he rationalizes it by saying that it wouldn’t be so easy if you didn’t want it. it’s like your pussy is könig-shaped, always so accommodating for him.

“köni—?” you whine pathetically, brain still foggy from sleep. “bad dream?”

you hear him whimper at that through his heavy huffs. it’s still up for debate who’s more vulnerable in these moments. “shhh. let me have this, engel. you’re too far away.”

not having the energy to question him, you sigh and shift your ass back, taking advantage of how relaxed your body is to close the gap and spear yourself fully on his big cock. “‘m right here. you have it.” you comfort him lazily, eyes still closed as you clutch the large hand that comes to rest on your stomach, plastering you against his warm chest. “go back to sleep.”

you’ll make sure he’s okay in the morning, but for right now you let him take what he needs. it’s not like you could ever understand the psychological effects of warfare, it’s the least you can do for your hardworking boyfriend :(

“so good to me, so perfect.” he kisses the back of your head reverently, cock twitching inside of you. he ignores every impulse in body that’s telling him to fuck into you with all his strength, instead mindlessly grinding his hips as deep inside you as he can reach, holding onto you and soothing himself with the feeling of being encompassed by your sweet warmth.

it’s always just as mind blowing to him as the first time; how quickly your pussy is able to comfort him, putting him to sleep in more ways than one. if that isn’t proof enough of how meant for him you are, he doesn’t know what is…

[suguann]

✎. simon will do this, if it makes johnny feel better.

tags. fem!reader, established relationship (simon/reader), threesome, double penetration in one hole, slight size kink, dirty talk [18+ only]

featuring. simon, soap

masterlist

Simon doesn’t share, but he makes an exception this time after his best friend’s date is a no-show, and he isn’t heartless enough to let Johnny hang out at the pub alone. Anybody will tell you: he can be a real nice guy when he wants to be.

And you don’t mind the extra company or another mouth to feed, that the flowers in the vase you put on the counter were meant for someone else, how Johnny gets flirty after his fourth beer, or— 

“Fuck, love,” Simon grunts into your shoulder when he finally eases his cock into you beside Johnny’s. “I guess you can take it like a champ, after all.”

But you hardly hear him over the sound of your heart pounding in your ears and the creaky mattress below your knees.

Johnny thumbs away your tears while you tremble above him, cupping your face to pull you into a kiss so you have something to focus on other than the feeling of being split down the middle—it takes an extra amount of effort not to clench down when you already feel like you’re about to break in two.

“Look at you,” Johnny mumbles against your lips. “Never thought you’d really let me do this.”

Then he pulls out, slick heat gripping him the whole way, and pushes deeper inside, punching a shaky breath out of you. 

He and Simon are in perfect sync, keeping you full while the other drags his cock out, only to fill you up again. It’s almost embarrassing how wet you are—at how much you like it—a hazy cloud settling over you as they use you for their pleasure.

Because Johnny’s sad, and you have a thing for making people happy.

Simon sucks little possessive marks into your shoulder and across your spine, murmuring filthy praise against your skin that consists of “sweetest and tightest pussy, my perfect little fucktoy” and “so fucking pretty.”

“That’s it.” Johnny’s voice is low and strained, barely heard above the loud squelching between your legs, but he sighs it into your mouth as he slowly comes apart. “Fuck—ah—you feel so good.”

A hand dips between you to press against your belly, where you can feel them, hot and heavy against your walls, making you squeal as a little ball of warmth travels down to your toes and all the way to the tips of your fingers. Simon fists your hair, tugging you away from Johnny so you’re looking up at him upside down. 

“So greedy that you needed two cocks to fill this soft little cunt, huh?”

You whine, unable to form an actual response outside of a few jumbled syllables, but a slap against your ass makes you whisper a shuddered yes.

He tells you to open your mouth before he spits onto your awaiting tongue, some of it hitting your cheek. When you swallow obediently, he smears what doesn’t make it across your lips with the thick pad of his thumb. 

“Don’t forget who you belong to,” he sneers, at odds with the soft way he kisses your cheek and reverently chokes on your name. Neither of you hear Johnny groaning under you as you clench down hard at the possessiveness in his voice—because at the feel of his wedding band pressing against your throat like a brand, how can you forget?

Simon doesn’t share, but this, he’ll do. Just this once because you’re already his, and he wants Johnny to know what it’s like to have a woman like you.

[ninibeingdelulu]

Calmness ✧

Plot: Ken and you have a real daughter.

A/N: kinda short :(

Soft evening light filtered through the den, casting everything in that warm, nostalgic glow you'd come to associate with pure contentment over these past few blissful years together.

Ken's attention remained transfixed on that vintage baseball game rerun flickering across the flatscreen.

Body settled deep into those overstuffed couch cushions with one leg casually crossed over the other in peak middle-aged dad repose.

But it was the tiny, swaddled bundle cradled against his barrel chest that held your rapt fascination from the archway.

Soaking in every precious detail of their serene tableau with an overflow of maternal adoration swelling in your breast.

At just three months old, your newborn daughter remained utterly oblivious to her surroundings - cherubic features smoothed into perfect repose while bronzed lashes fanned over porcelain cheeks.

One little fist tucked up beneath her chin while the other tiny starfish hand rested atop Ken's broad pec, rising and falling with each of his steady rumbles.

Her doting father absently brushed the pad of his thumb in soothing circles over the minuscule knuckles. Never once taking those transfixed mahogany pools off your slumbering miracle's face as if committing every microscopic shift to eternal memory.

That singular worshipful reverie you'd immediately recognized and fallen hopelessly in love with all over again these past few weeks.

The exact same soul-deep look Ken once bestowed solely upon the orphaned kaiju he'd raised before watching her depart for greener pastures - now magnified tenfold through his unbreakable connection to your shared offspring.

A permanent reminder of the family you created together from that cosmic loneliness.

"She's not at all like Emi was , is she?" You murmured, footsteps barely audible across the plush carpet until dropping onto the open cushion space beside him.

Ken responded with only a low rumbling hum from his broad chest while immediately unfurling that sheltering arm around your shoulders.

Cocooning you into his solid, familiar warmth until your cheek smooshed comfortably against the firmness of his shoulder. Close enough to press a wandering caress across your tiny miracle's silken crown.

"No - she's not. She's ours." A meaningful pause preceded Ken's soft, gravelly rasp ghosting across your hairline. "Our daughter...our real baby that you gave me, sweetheart. One I'll guard with my life the same way I do for you always."

Melting into the tender, possessive squeeze encircling your trim waist, you craned your chin up against his collarbone to receive that lingering brush over your puckered lips.

Ken's soulful gaze locked onto yours - swimming depths of protective ferocity tamed only through utter reverence for the two solitary souls anchoring his universe now.

The unspoken mantra of doing anything to safeguard the loves of his life until extinction itself.

"You've already given me more than enough happiness to last a trillion lifetimes, babe. Thank you," he whispered hoarsely against your skin.

"For being everything I could've dreamed during those cold, empty decades..."

You stifled the tiny sniffle by reclaiming his questing mouth in a searing, needful communion - conveying through satin caresses alone just how desperately you treasured this man and the profound sanctuary of family he'd bestowed upon you.

Your Ultraman, protector, partner, and living legacy of insurmountable love all in one. Cradling you both to his gallant hero's heart for eternity.