#there’s a lot of them but I tried to narrow it down some!

[deliciousangelfestival]

The Imperfect Couple - 10

Character: politician!Bucky x ex-wife!reader

Summary: A separated couple must pretend to be happily married while the husband runs for Vice President, dealing with old issues and political pressures during his election campaign.

Warning: The couple's arguments could be triggering.

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2 , Chapter 3 , Chapter 4 , Chapter 5 , Chapter 6 , Chapter 7 , Chapter 8 , Chapter 9 , Chapter 10 ,-

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

Feeling the tension rise, Greg nervously tried to leave, but you stepped in. “Don’t!”

“Yes…?” Greg’s voice wavered.

“Don’t tell them I’m pregnant. Because I’m not. I can’t lie about that.” You rubbed your temples, feeling the weight of the situation pressing in on you, even though it was still early in the morning.

You shot a glance at Greg. “Schedule a press conference. Both of us will speak.”

Greg nodded rapidly. “Yes. Yes, that’s great.” He scurried out of the apartment without a second thought.

Bucky muttered under his breath, “I paid millions for this campaign team, and this is what I get.”

You snapped back at him. “No! Don’t change the subject!” Your voice was sharp, frustration burning in your eyes. “All of this is your idea.”

Bucky didn’t flinch, his calm demeanor frustrating you further. “My idea, yes. But it’s your choice now,” he replied, as if everything was calculated in his favor.

“Me? Lying about being pregnant? Have some humility, Bucky!” You threw your hands up in disbelief.

Bucky’s lips curved into a small, calculating smile. “I’m proud of you for making that decision,” he said smoothly, as if this was some twisted game he’d already won. His calmness was unnerving, like he already knew the outcome.

You sighed deeply, your breath heavy with exasperation. Bucky casually walked over to the coffee machine and offered you a cup. You took it, reluctant but exhausted. When you sipped, the familiar taste made you pause. It was perfect—exactly how you liked it. He still remembered.

But even the perfect coffee couldn’t wash away the bitterness and exhaustion hanging over you like a dark cloud.

You set the cup down and looked up at him, your eyes narrowing. “What’s the deal you made with Steve?” The question hung in the air, sharp and deliberate, like a card you were waiting to play.

Bucky leaned back slightly, his eyes never leaving yours. “The deal?” He sipped his own coffee, his expression unreadable, but there was a flicker of something—calculation, maybe? “Let’s just say... Steve’s skeletons are a lot messier than mine. I was always just the distraction.”

There was something chilling in the way he spoke, like he was always one step ahead. You realized then—you were in deeper than you thought.

Bucky took a slow sip of his coffee before setting it down on the table. His gaze stayed sharp, his voice deliberate. “The reason he chose me is simple. I’m the gatekeeper. Let’s be real, picking me as the youngest candidate? That’s a huge risk.”

The opponent was formidable—strong, relentless, and hungry for any opportunity to exploit weakness. So, what other option was there?

Bucky was the safest choice, not just because of his background, but because he held Steve’s deepest secrets—truths that couldn’t be silenced with money or threats. Bucky came from wealth, from power, from a lineage that made him untouchable. Steve knew that. He also knew something else: Bucky’s weakness was you.

Despite the disagreements within the party, Steve silenced the dissenters. He’d calculated every move. Choosing Bucky was risky, but Steve needed someone he could control, someone who could take the fall if necessary.

Bucky knew why he was chosen. He understood the game—Steve, the elder statesman, needed a younger face to shield him from the inevitable attacks. Bucky was to be his defense, the gatekeeper, the distraction.

The rumors about you and Bucky were intentional, designed to take the heat off Steve. Let the world believe Bucky was struggling in his personal life. Let them focus on his public spectacle while Steve worked in the shadows, untouchable.

Edgar and Brock—the opponents—would see the headlines and think Steve had been weakened by Bucky’s scandal. But they were wrong. This was the plan all along.

Bucky would take the blame. He would absorb the media’s attention, while Steve quietly solidified his path to the presidency.

For Bucky, it was more than a political maneuver. Accepting Steve's offer wasn’t just about power—it was his chance to break free from the chains his mother had shackled him with. And it was his chance to get you back.

He knew Steve had calculated his every move, and yet, Bucky had his own agenda. In the end, he wasn’t just a pawn in Steve’s game; he was playing his own, too.

You sighed heavily, rubbing your temples. “This is why I never wanted to cover elections. Everything is rigged.”

Bucky chuckled softly, a knowing look in his eyes. “That’s politics for you, sweetheart. It’s not about being clean—it’s about playing the game better than everyone else.”

You shifted, suddenly feeling the urge to get answers. “What about Steve’s skeletons?” you asked, your voice edged with curiosity.

Bucky had just picked up a chocolate muffin, but he stopped mid-bite. Setting it down, he met your gaze, dead serious. “I’m the only one who knows,” he said quietly. “I can’t tell you. I’ll carry those secrets to my grave.”

His loyalty to Steve was unsettling, a bond you could see ran deep.

“And don’t even think about digging for information,” Bucky warned, his voice firm, eyes hardening. “You’ll put both of us in danger if you try.”

The finality in his tone hit you like a wall. He was serious, and it was clear that stepping into that territory wasn’t just risky—it was deadly.

“Bucky,” you said softly, your voice filled with exhaustion.

“Hmm?” He didn’t look up from his phone, his attention split.

“If I can’t do this anymore... I want to leave.”

The silence that followed was thick. Bucky didn’t respond immediately, didn’t even look up at you. Instead, he remained still, his fingers lightly tapping against his phone. Finally, he spoke, his tone low and measured. “Get ready for the press.”

You sighed heavily, frustration and defeat settling into your chest like a heavy weight. Leave? Could you even escape at this point?

The thought circled in your mind, but Bucky had already made it clear—he wasn’t letting you go that easily. His control, his manipulation—it had all tightened around you like a noose.

And despite everything, despite the lies, the secrets, the betrayal... you could see it in his eyes. He didn’t plan to lose you again.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Soon, you stood next to him in front of a swarm of cameras, bright lights burning into your skin.

Bucky adjusted his suit jacket, offering a polite smile to the flashing lights. He stepped up to the podium, and as soon as he began speaking, it was as if a switch had flipped. The man beside you was no longer just your husband—he had become the perfect politician.

“I want to thank you all for coming here today,” Bucky began, his voice smooth, confident. His gaze swept across the audience, calculated and calm. “Marriage is never easy. It's a journey filled with highs and lows, and like any relationship, it can face... turmoil.”

The word hung in the air, a subtle indication of the cracks beneath the surface.

“Over the last few years, my wife and I have faced our share of challenges. We chose to take separate paths for a time, not because the love was lost, but because we believed it was what we needed. We both needed space to grow as individuals,” he said, pausing to glance at you.

You stood there, silent, watching him weave this narrative so effortlessly. Seeing him like this—so fluent, so convincing—it was almost sickening. He was lying, and yet every word that came from his mouth seemed to be wrapped in a veneer of truth.

“But sometimes,” he continued, “fate brings people back together. We crossed paths again, and in doing so, we rekindled that old romance we once shared. This has not been an easy journey, but we both realized that our love—despite everything—was worth fighting for.”

You forced yourself to stay composed, even as your mind raced. How had he become this person? So skilled in deception, so willing to put on a performance for the world. This wasn’t the man you had married.

This was a man molded by ambition, by politics. He had learned to manipulate truth, to twist it to his advantage. And now, he was using that skill to reshape the story of your marriage.

He went on, his tone softening just enough to appeal to the emotions of the audience. “I know many young couples out there experience similar struggles—times when things seem too difficult to overcome. But I stand here today to tell you that it’s possible. Love is complicated, but it’s also worth the fight.”

The live chat on the screen buzzed with comments, many of them expressing support, calling your relationship ‘inspiring,’ applauding your ‘courage.’ They were buying it. Every single word.

Bucky turned to you, offering a practiced smile. To them, it was a look of adoration. To you, it was a silent warning. Stay in line. Play your part.

As Bucky wrapped up his speech, the room filled with the sound of reporters typing, cameras flashing, and the quiet hum of people whispering. His words had been perfectly delivered—calm, composed, and persuasive. But it was the next moment that truly sealed the deal.

He turned toward you, and for a brief second, his eyes met yours. You could see the flicker of something—regret, perhaps, or exhaustion. But before you could fully process it, he stepped closer. The cameras zoomed in, the world seemed to hold its breath, and Bucky pulled you into a tight embrace.

His hands rested on your waist, steady, as though he were trying to ground himself. You stiffened at first, the tension between you impossible to ignore, but the weight of the press watching forced you to respond. Slowly, you lifted your arms and hugged him back, trying to make it look as natural as possible.

Then, without warning, his lips brushed against yours. A kiss, soft but purposeful, meant to sell the image of a couple rekindling their love. The cameras went wild, and you could feel every flash burning the moment into eternity. But beneath the act, you could sense the hollowness of it all.

"Still think we’re good at pretending?" you whispered, your voice barely audible.

Bucky’s eyes flickered with something unreadable, and a faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Maybe it’s not all pretending."

You stayed locked in his arms for a moment longer, both of you playing your roles. To everyone watching, you were the perfect couple, finding your way back to each other. But to you, it felt like a performance—one more layer of the deception you both had to endure.

And yet, for all the pretending, there was an undeniable truth beneath it. The way Bucky held you tighter, as if he needed that connection to steady himself, made it clear. He wasn’t just showing the world something—they both needed this.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Once the press conference ended, you felt drained—emotionally and physically. As you walked off the stage, Bucky’s phone rang. He glanced at the screen and answered immediately.

“Steve,” he greeted, his voice low. You stood beside him, listening quietly.

“Didn’t expect it to go this well,” Steve’s voice crackled through the line. “Good job. I was hoping you could drag this out for a few more days, though.”

Bucky leaned against the table, his tone casual but firm. “I couldn’t do that. My wife’s already pissed about this. I’m not pushing her any further.” His eyes flicked to you as he spoke, his face unreadable.

There was a pause on the other end. Then Steve’s voice came again, smoother this time. “Still, you handled it well. Let’s hope the media stays focused on you two and not... anything else.”

Bucky smirked, the expression barely reaching his eyes. “They will. This whole mess? It’s just a distraction, Steve. You know that.”

Steve chuckled lightly. “I’m counting on it.”

Bucky ended the call without another word, sliding the phone back into his pocket. He turned to you, eyes narrowing slightly. “See? Everything’s under control.” He reached out, his hand resting lightly on your arm, but you pulled away.

Control. That’s what it was always about with him. And for now, he had it. But for how long?

You noticed something you hadn’t before—Bucky’s jaw was clenched, his shoulders tense, and his grip on the phone was tighter than usual. His usual confident façade seemed to falter, even if just for a moment. He looked... uneasy.

You had never seen him like this, not even during the press conference. Something about that call with Steve had rattled him. The way his eyes darkened, how his fingers twitched slightly as if restraining himself from saying more—it was a side of him you rarely witnessed.

And in that fleeting moment, you understood. It wasn’t just you who felt trapped in this web of lies and manipulation. It was Bucky, too. For all his calm demeanor, all his calculated moves, he was just as cornered.

He wasn’t in control like he wanted you to believe.

For the first time, you realized that Bucky wasn’t just pulling the strings—he was tangled in them. Just as trapped as you, if not more so. The weight of Steve’s power over him, the pressure of the campaign, the expectations, the secrets—it was all bearing down on him, too.

And in a strange, twisted way, it made him seem... vulnerable.

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[daydreamerwoah]

Family Tree (Chapter 4)

tw: awkwardness; drinking

Simon x Y/n <3

When you walked back toward the booth, you could see three additional bodies sitting with Ella. Taking a deep breath, you prepared yourself to put on a face to meet her boyfriend and his friends. God, why didn't you just leave when you had the chance? Maybe you could sneak back to the bathroom so you could have more time to calm your nerves. You cursed yourself for not bringing your bag; maybe then you could have just left the place entirely and told Ella you had to leave when you saw her the next day at work. 

But no. You didn't have the chance to think of a grand escape plan. 

Ella's eyes found yours and an excited grin found its way on her lips, making the guy sitting beside her glance your way.

Shit. 

"Guys," she said as you made it to the table, "this is Y/n." she gestured to the three men sitting there.

Your eyes first landed on the brown-skinned man who was next to her. "Kyle," he introduced himself, sticking his hand out to shake yours. "This is my fella," your friend sweetly said before kissing his cheek playfully. Somehow, seeing them next to each other, you could instantly tell how they fit perfectly for one another. 

"Steamin' Christ," the guy sitting across from Kyle said, catching your attention "These two," he playfully rolled his eyes, "Name's John, but you can call me Johnny lass," he joked, making the couple laugh. 

"He's just jealous his bird is deployed right now," Kyle shot back. 

You wanted to ask what the hell bird meant, but from how you were just talking about Ella and Kyle, you thought it had something to do with a girl he was with. At least you hope that's what it was.

Johnny scoffed, "Yeah whatever."

"Scoot," Ella told Kyle, making room for you to sit next to her in the booth. You smiled before squeezing your way in, "And this-" she said, making your eyes look at the body that was now sitting across from you, "- is Simon."

Your heart dropped five flights of stairs down to your stomach the moment you saw the man. The dark brown eyes, the black surgical mask, the hood that covered the rest of his head. It was the guy you'd seen in the cafe twice; the guy you hastily backed up into, and fuck did you want to hide under the table. Your eyes widened, and you gulped, embarrassingly obvious. Ella subtly glanced at Johnny and Kyle, who both had a curious look in their eyes but remained quiet. It was amazing how the three of them had come to the same conclusion that you had to have known him somehow.

"Uh hi," you said, trying to sound more confident than you felt, "Nice to meet you guys," you glanced around the table. 

A waitress brought each one of them drinks, giving a thankful distraction to the table as she set down the glasses. But it wasn't a good enough distraction for Simon Riley. The moment you walked back to the table and he glanced at you, his eyes narrowed slightly. From the side of your face, he thought you looked familiar but couldn't place where he'd seen you before. It wasn't like he remembered a lot of things when it came to his civilian life - especially people - but it was something about you that screamed I've seen you. It wasn't until you sat down across from him that he was indeed correct; he had seen you before... in the cafe. And by the look on your face, you had remembered him too. The slight furrow of his eyebrows was slightly covered by the hood, but you saw it. 

You wanted to believe that he wouldn't recognize you. I mean, he probably saw a lot of people during the day like you did. Surely some girl who bumped into him weeks ago would spark anything for him to think about that moment... would it?

Wrong.

You tried your best to keep your focus on everything else going on at the table; Kyle and Johnny discussing a little bit about their last mission - the pieces that weren't confidential; each time one of them raised their glass to take a sip of their drink; anything.

While Ella asked Kyle and Johnny about what all happened earlier in the day, Simon's eyes subtly remained on you. Maybe this time you'd catch him staring, and then you'd feel slightly better about catching him. But he was quick... each time you found yourself glancing his way, his eyes would already be on the couple. He was a soldier, after all. Everything he did was silent and quick… Except for his intimate moments, but that rarely was shown to anyone. Even the one night stands he had, they had never even seen his face before, so there was no way they'd see anything more.

But hell, this was awkward as fuck. So awkward you found your leg slightly bouncing under the table. 

"So lass," Johnny said as he took a sip of his drink, "America?" You slightly raised your eyebrow at his quick conclusion, making him smirk, "The accent." 

Oh.

You nodded, quickly looking at Simon before going back to Johnny, "Yeah."

I mean, it was hella obvious that you weren't from anywhere except across the pond. 

"What made you move here?" Kyle chimed in. 

A beat went by before, "Family," your short answer came out. But Ella, already proving herself the best bestie there was, switched topics immediately.

"I was thinking about cooking a big dinner on Friday. You all should come over yeah?"

Bless her heart. You didn't even know if she really was going to cook or not, but it definitely got their attention changed to food and how good Ella's cooking was. You slightly lowered your head, thankful for the change in topics, but this didn't go unnoticed by the quiet man sitting across from you. He was no stranger to avoiding anything that remotely talked about family, considering he didn't like to talk about his either. But he didn't like the feeling that crossed his mind about why you didn't like to talk about yours. Were they back in the States? Were you close to them? Were they dead? All those questions ran through his mind as he looked at you for a moment. 

Feeling his gaze, you briefly glanced up meeting his eyes, before cutting them away to pay attention to Ella talk about everything she was going to cook. 

"Oh you should join us," she said, looking at you. 

And risk running into the man - erm, Simon - again? 

"I can't... have to take care of some things," you declined, once again coming up with an excuse.

Well, it wasn't an excuse. You did have something to do. Continue fixing up the damn townhome. 

Her famous pout formed on her lips, making you give her a sad smile. If she convinced you to do anything else today, your head was going to spin. 

"Fine," she playfully rolled her eyes, "But one day you have to. Deal?" You nodded. She glanced down at your empty glass from earlier, "Want another bourbon?" she asked, making the table go silent for like... three seconds. Although it felt like an eternity.

"Y'drink bourbon?" Johnny asked, with a look on his face that was unknown to you, it made you slightly blush sheepishly. But Ella and Kyle, that look made their lips turn upward before simultaneously glancing at Simon. He, however, felt his eyebrow raise at hearing her ask you that question. Another thing that made him curious about you. 

You nodded, "Yeah," you answered him before looking at Ella once more, "But no. Think I'm gonna head out."

She groaned before a thought popped in her head, "Wait. Come to the restroom with me," she pleaded and all but gently shoved you out of the booth before grabbing your wrist and dragging you to the restroom. You didn't even have time to protest before you were walking behind her toward the back of the pub. The moment the two of you stepped inside the restroom, she faced you with a big, toothy grin, "Alright spill. How do you know Ghost?"

Your eyebrows drew closer together, "Ghost?"

Rolling her eyes, "Simon. We call him Ghost cause that's what he usually goes by - his callsign. But whatever. How do you know him?" she smiled. 

"I don't know him."

"Bollocks. When you looked at him, your eyes got so big I thought they were gonna pop out ya head," she teased. 

You wanted to laugh, but the fact that she saw the way you looked at him made you freeze a little. You weren't that obvious were you? You had two choices: brush her and the topic off like it never even happened, or tell her. The thought that she'd bug the shit out of you forever if you didn't say anything made you cringe a little. You glanced around the restroom, feeling silly about why you even felt awkward about the guy.

"I just-it's a cafe I went to a few weeks ago. I was in a hurry to get to work and accidentally bumped into him after I ordered my latte. It was embarrassing, to say the least," you said, remembering that day vividly for some reason, "And then I saw him again the other day. I wasn't-wasn't staring or anything, but he caught me looking at him. Talk about being a weirdo. Just didn't think I'd see him again," you finished, somehow zoning out a little at the memory of how you embarrassed yourself in front of a man what was now three times. 

And god was Ella beaming inside.

The same thing could be said for Johnny and Kyle back at the table. 

"Seems like she likes ya L.T.," Johnny teased, nudging Simon's shoulder, making the large man huff, "She likes bourbon too."

Kyle chuckled, taking a sip of his drink, "You've seen her before?" 

Simon was a man who never talked about his personal life, not even to his teammates. What little they knew about him was snippets of his past and that he enjoyed a good Kentucky bourbon any day of the week. There were bits of pieces that he sometimes indulged them in, but for the most part, what he did when he wasn't at work was any of their guesses. So knowing that you had seen a girl - Ella's coworker at that - intrigued them like small boys learning about something their big brother was doing. 

"Wouldn't ya like to know," he responded, the cockiness of his personality coming a bit. 

Although he was quiet - ghostly quiet - Simon was playfully cocky, and every now and again, his friends would catch a moment. This made the two other men chuckle, teasing him more about where he probably met you.

After a minute or two, you and Ella had made it back to the table, her taking a seat next to her boyfriend again while you grabbed your bag. 

"It was nice meeting you guys," you said, bidding farewell to them. Before you left, Ella made you - more like demanded with a laugh - that you put your number in her phone. You couldn't help but slightly grin as you did. Handing it back to her, you took one last look at the three men sitting in the booth as well, eyes lingering a bit longer on Simon. He didn't even hide that he was looking at you too. It made your stomach flip at the silent interaction. "Bye," you said before leaving the pub. 

If you were lucky, you probably wouldn't have to see him again and further embarrass yourself. 

I feel like this wasn't awkward enough but I was having a hard time putting thoughts into the writing lol!! I might rewrite this What yall think?

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[winkuzz]

Wren x Reese Fic Drabble

Here's a little short fic drabble I started writing when I was on a 3 hour train ride back home from a con, based on an idea I've had for the two a while ago and these outfits I designed for Wren and Reese

I will eventually put this on ao3 but I have to wait for my invitation lol

Based on my Wreese Roadtrip AU - a wholesome 'best ending for everyone' scenario I like to fantasize about, meaning that the events of Scarlet Hollow are in the past and everyone of the main cast survived / is doing good and Wren and Reese explore both the world and themselves on a roadtrip, living basically as nomads.

Fic begins under the cut

Content Warnings: Suggestive Language/Mention, OC x Canon Ship, Abuse Mention Disclaimer: - Wren is trans/nonbinary and uses both they/them and he/him pronouns - Mention of “Magical Girl Kaneeka” because I like that theory

---------

The door falls shut behind the pair that just left the building. Exchanging a quiet glance with each other they make their way back to an antique looking van which is situated on the other side of the parking lot. The vehicle’s obvious age alone is enough to draw attention, but what makes it stand out even more is the fact that it’s covered in gruesome, macabre paintings depicting mostly teeth, claws, organs and torn skin. In fact, some passersby may even have considered it a relatively on-the-nose art piece belonging to the gallery which the couple just left. 

Wren, the blond shorter one of the pair, pulls out their set of keys and unlocks the vehicle manually, waiting for the familiar click of the little door guys jumping up. A happy sound. It means home, warmth and peace for the two of them. 

Both doors swing open and Wren climbs in to nestle down in their seat, yet their partner Reese - the taller one of the pair - hesitates, glancing at the gallery they left once more, then takes off the long coat he was wearing up until now. He takes a deep, contemplating breath before climbing in, situating first his previously hidden tail on the seat, then his long legs in the narrow space before pulling the door shut and dropping heavily against the backrest.

His gaze is fixated on the dashboard for a few moments, then moves to rest on Wren. A near unblinking, certainly unbroken stare. 

Wren already busies himself with picking out music to drive to, attaching his phone via cassette tape adapter to yet another antique part of the car. A tape player. Wren is tapping away on his phone’s screen and keeps swiping through songs. Unbothered for a while - that is until he feels the eyes gazing upon him, which compels them to do a double take towards their partner. For a moment they're unsure what to say or do. 

Wren and Reese have been dating for a while now and they've been traveling through the country, using their old, trusty van as both a method of transport and living space. They spend basically every day with each other, nearly 24/7. And yet this is a new expression on Reese’s face. One that Wren doesn't recognise.

It catches them a bit off guard as they shift in their seat, trying to play it off and stay cool by going back to scrolling and avoiding Reese's gaze. 

"What's up, babe?" 

Wren tries to sound unbothered.

Silence. 

Just the sound of Wren's nail tapping the screen in a hollow manner. 

They look up again. A bit more concerned. Reese is frowning. Not much, just a slight scowl. But it’s still a serious, deep expression which Wren again attempts to assign familiarity to, but fails to do so. 

Trying to lighten the mood they tilt their head just ever so slightly. Maybe playing coy would coax the words out if their partner? 

"Nothing." 

Reese finally breaks his silence and thus, brushes the tension off Wren's shoulders. 

"It's just-" There's a pause. And it stiffens the shoulders right back up. 

"You..." 

Wren's finger hovers over a song they could play just in time to feign overhearing what Reese would say next. The words seem to have a hard time leaving their boyfriend, so how good could they be to hear? 

Of course he would be upset. They had feared that the meeting they had just attended very much overstepped a hard boundary. And Reese's voice seems more nervous than usual. It's far from the normal soft, gentle, teasing or... Well, growling tones they've become so acquainted with. 

Though he doesn't sound angry. He just sounds... They wish they knew. This is a new Reese. And it makes them nervous. 

Their finger and the song are ready. They just gotta time it right. 

"You're amazing." 

... Wait.

 Wren furrows their brows at their phone, then looks up to meet Reese's eyes.

"... Huh?", is all they manage to squeeze out as a reply.

Reese looks just as surprised now.

"Do I … really have to explain that?”

Wren answers with a thoroughly befuddled stare at their partner. 

A voiceless chuckle escapes Reese before he continues.

"Well. Okay. Let's go through what just happened." 

He’s slouching deeper into his seat. His body turns towards Wren, his hands gesture along to his words as he speaks.

"So. You just dragged me to this gallery." 

"Mhm?"

"After suiting me up."

"Uh-huh?" 

"And making yourself look like some sort of... professional manager type."

"Yeah?"

"To pretend to be an 'expert of the arts'.”

"I am an expert of your art. In a way. I’ve been watching you draw and paint a lot after all. Plus, art appreciation is based on subjective tastes. And since everyone's a critic, I-

"All this after you called up someone you happened to know from this city, demanding in a favor to set up a meeting."

"Johnny is an old buddy of mine who moved here, and this time he couldn't wriggle out of paying me back, I kept promising him that the day would come when-"

"A meeting which led to the appointment we had today.”

A dramatic pause.

“With a gallerist." 

Reese takes a deep breath.

Wren suddenly is quiet. He slowly looks up, finally lowering the huge, rectangular shades he's been wearing since entering the gallery. Supposedly to make him look ‘professional and cold’. 

"Just to help me sell my art to a gallerist that appreciates my style. Which... Was a success by the way."

Reese looks at his partner with a sort of challenging disbelief. Like he wants to see them try to talk down their actions again when faced with the facts of today’s events.

"Well…”, Wren shifts in their seat, attempting to find a way to wiggle himself out of the chain of compliments. “Not quite a success yet, Reese. We didn't quite 'sell' any art yet, but they're going to display your pieces! Which helps get the eyes of potential buyers on your art. There's a difference.”

Reese arches a single brow.

"Is there?"

"Yes." 

Wren grimaces displeased. 

“One is a guarantee and I couldn't get you that guarantee. Only a vague promise, which is bullshit, to be honest.”

"Wren."

Reese sounds serious. Serious enough to draw Wren’s eyes upon their partner again. Reese sighs and then leans his shoulder deeper into the seat. Facing Wren fully, who subconsciously imitates the pose. Showing Reese he has their full attention as well.

Then Reese continues:

"I didn't want to do shit to get my art sold. Or even displayed. You know that I never really cared for that part, nor did I want to go out of my way to build any connections. It's because of your faith in me and the ties to people you happen to know that I just walked out of there being offered a deal. A deal to  potentially make money with my art, Wren."

Reese emphasizes the last sentence, stressing the meaningfulness of it.  

A pause lingers between the couple. 

Then Reese’s brows knit tighter. A growly huff escapes his throat as he turns towards the wind shield and continues:

"Besides, it’s not just that you got me that deal that makes you so amazing. It's because of you that I'm even here at all. Without you, I would still be stuck in that disgusting tiny basement.”

Reese growls at the mention of that room and the memories connected to it. A grimdark sound that makes the hairs on Wren’s arm stand.

"If you hadn’t been there, who knows what else she would’ve done to me? I don’t want to think about the stuff she had prepared ‘just in case’ I ‘went berserk’ or other bullshit like that. I probably would’ve just died someday. Not ever seeing anything else but this horrific little place that was assigned ‘safe’ for me to be around. 

To be quite honest, it’s not so out of the world to think that potentially one day she would’ve deemed me too big of a burden to deal with and–”

Wren reaches out to their boyfriend at that. Their palm gently touches the back of Reese’s hand, who first hesitates, his jaw tense and his eyes glaring at nothing in particular. 

But after a couple moments his face relaxes, his body loses its tension and he embraces the touch. Long fingers entangling with Wren’s, welcoming the warmth and softness of their palm.

His other hand reaches up and Reese wipes his face, resetting his thoughts. Resetting the mood. Calming down. 

“... fact is.”

Reese sighs, his body relaxing into the seat once more. His thumb gently brushes over the side of Wren’s hand, a repetitive and calming motion. 

“I have no idea what it is that compels you to do all these things for me. You knew me for a couple moments at most before you quite literally jumped in front of a gun for me. 

You broke me out of that basement and stuck out your neck to protect me. Based on what? A hunch you had about me?

Then you took me out and away from Scarlet Hollow on this road trip, spending time with me, letting me see the world? I would’ve never expected to see the sea, hear the waves! Or watch a meteor shower in the middle of the night!”

The previous bitterness in Reese’s voice gets replaced by excitement.

Wren appreciates watching their partner’s face slowly light up. They adore when he begins to ramble, and they’re happy to listen.

“I’ve seen so many places now. We’ve camped out in the middle of nature, stayed at really nice hotels and crappy ass motels. I’ve seen woods so different from those back in Scarlet Hollow, and never have I expected to ever see landscapes that have no mountains at all.

I’ve gotten to know sides of me that I had no idea existed before knowing you. Allowed myself to learn who I am and what things I can do with this weird body of mine.

It’s because you allow me to explore myself. You never demand anything from me, you’re not scared of me when I get emotional, you don’t hold your breath when I ramble and get riled up. It’s so liberating to just stretch out and be whatever I want to be, whenever.

I hunted, I fished, Stella taught me how to make soup from mushrooms and roots I can find in the forest. Oh, that one soup I made for you when you were really sick that one time? Do you remember that?”

Wren nods with the hint of a smile but doesn’t interrupt with an answer.

“I was so worried, it was the first time in my life I had to take care of someone else and wasn’t the one being fussed over. But it’s alright, I figured out a way to help you get better. And you said that it was really tasty, too!” 

The corners of Reese’s mouth twitch upwards.

“I even learned how to drive the van! And I took us to the place up on the cliff near that beach town, where we saw fireworks.”

“Oh yeah, we made out really hard after that. Isn’t that how we broke the wiggle-head zombie I had glued to the dashboard? I sorta miss him.”

“Wren. Don’t interrupt.”

“Hehe, sorry.”

“But now that you remind me, Rest in Pieces Zomb-Chomp.”

“Rest in Pieces indeed.That time he didn’t come back to life.”

The interior of the van turns silent again. This time it’s a more comfortable silence, the two of them lingering in the echo of more pleasant memories than before.

“My point is”, Reese eventually speaks up again, facing Wren with a gentle expression. “You have done so much for me. And I have no idea why. You had no reason to trust me. No reason to want me. I was but a nobody in a basement trapped in a tiny mining town. But ever since we left Scarlet Hollow and went on our trip out here… I feel like I’m starting to actually become somebody.

Despite whatever you saw back then in that clinic, you still chose me. You make me believe that whatever happens, you’ll always see me for me. That’s what I’m grateful for. 

You’re my pillar that I can always return to and lean on. And…"

Reese’s eyes meet Wren’s. And Wren recognizes this expression. It makes him melt already before their partner says the words.

“I love you, Wren.”

A moment passes.

“And I know these words can only sound hollow in comparison to your actions so far. But I promise to you that no matter what it is that you need, you can always come to me.

I want to be your pillar. Like you’ve been mine. And I can only aspire to be as much of a good influence in your life as you’ve been vice versa.”

Wren squeezes Reese’s hand with his in response. 

Then Wren reaches out and brushes his other hand’s palm against the side of their partner’s face, leading him down to their own so their lips could meet for a sweet kiss. It’s chaste and soft, and full of the sweet, gushy emotions they’re mutually feeling for each other. 

Once Wren pulls away they keep Reese close, affectionately combing some strands of the other’s brown hair out of his face and behind one of his pointy ears.

“I love you too, Reese. And aside from the fact that there is no ‘debt of actions’ between us, let me tell you that you obviously have no idea how much you’ve already done for me.”

The words take some time to settle between them as Reese slowly slides back to his seat and Wren shifts to finally place his phone away on the dashboard.

“But Wren”, Reese then begins after licking his bottom lip, a last taste of the sweet kiss just shared between them. “You surely agree that it’s crazy, right? How everything went down so far between us.”

“Oh, I am.If anyone is aware of how crazy all of this is, it’s me!” 

Wren laughs. 

“After all, I am dating a horror artist who can turn into a monster. Together we live in a van that my boyfriend painted with art that can come to life at his will. Sometimes he leaves to hunt in the woods, taking his Smears with him. And when he returns he always smells like moss and dry leaves and fresh air, and then the living art returns to the same spots right where it was before while we cuddle up inside the van and watch movies and listen to podcasts and music.

I’ve been living with this weird monster guy for months now, and all I ask of him is to thrive and be successful and do what makes him happy.

And it’s thanks to our magical friend that we now know how to make sure your art doesn’t just suddenly spring up to life. Which means finally you can make money with the thing you like doing the most, so… isn’t that awesome?”

“...”

“Don’t dare to make a joke now about ‘me’ being the thing you like doing the most, Reese.” 

Reese shrugs. “Don’t have to, you said it already.”

Wren pouts and huffs, while Reese looks at his partner with a rather smug expression. Then suddenly, they snort in unison, then chuckle and soon they are laughing. 

Still holding hands. 

Wren sighs, then slides his sunglasses back on.

“You’re a sappy mongrel, Reese Kelly.”

“And you’re a cold bastard, Wren Scarlet.”

“Good. Business as usual then. Now, should we head out of here? You mentioned you needed to pick up a couple new paints, right? I overheard you talking to the gallerist dude about painting something new.”

Reese nods. 

“Yeah. I’ll be busy making a few other pieces that suit the current theme displayed at the gallery. He said that it would draw more attention if I did something thematically fitting. But it’s still awesome that he’s going to display the pieces we brought. It’s crazy to think my art is going to be in a gallery now.”

“It’s what you deserve, babe. Your art is great.”

“Thank you, Wren.”

The two fasten their seatbelts, and now Reese is the person grabbing Wren’s phone to flip through songs to play. Wren turns the key in the ignition, listening to the familiar sputtering noises of the van coming to life.

“Got any ideas already? For the art I mean?” “Not really. But I’ll think about it once I’m done with you.”

Wren is in the middle of loosening the handbrake when he suddenly interrupts himself, then looks up at their boyfriend with a questioning blink.

“Uh… pardon me? I take it we’re not heading to the art store for some new paints then?”

“Oh no, we still can go and do that. But after that we go back to our place.”

‘Our Place.’ Not a house or a hotel. Just the spot they chose to park their van at for the time being. Far away from other people, outside the city. 

A song begins to play. 

Reese glances to Wren as the low bass and noisy guitars of their favorite HEALTH song begins to play. His expression is hungry. His teeth a little pointier than before, his jaw bigger. His eyes sharper.

Reese’s voice sounds deeper now as he speaks, and his breath is accompanied with the kind of growl that makes Wren’s skin crawl in all the good ways.

“I get that you don’t want to talk about ‘sappy shit’. It’s not your style. But don’t think you can escape my gratitude. I will show you how much I appreciate you the way you like it the most. And I won’t stop until I’m done with you. Got it?”

Wren is still frozen in their movements. Staring at their partner with big eyes and a flush on their cheeks. They sputter the same way the engine did before, then push the shades back up on their nose, sitting up stiffly. Trying to suppress the smile that wants to erupt on their face. 

They loosen the handbrake finally, push down the clutch and change into first gear. 

“I’d like to see you try.”

“Focus on the road first. Challenge me later.”

Wren fails at holding back the smile any longer and the van heads out of the parking lot.

“Oh, I will.”

---------

[starteas]

What were the inspirations for personalities of the main characters?

Hi there!

Buckle in, because it’s going to be a doozy:

Lumi:

Jirachi (Pokémon)

Luma (Super Mario Galaxy)

Kirby (Kirby)

Stitch (Lilo & Stitch)

Cosmog: Pokémon

Wander (Wander Over Yonder)

Siona:

Twilight Sparkle (My Little Pony)

Akko Kagari (Little Witch Academia)

Velma Dinkley (Scooby-Doo)

Lilo (Lilo & Stitch)

Davin:

Fluttershy (My Little Pony)

Applejack (My Little Pony)

Cucumber (Cucumber Quest)

Wally (Pokémon)

Nico Robin (One Piece)

Wander (Wander Over Yonder)

Holden:

Almond (Cucumber Quest)

Hau (Pokémon)

Monkey D. Luffy (One Piece)

Bacon (Cucumber Quest)

Sylvia (Wander over Yonder)

Calvin (Calvin & Hobbes)

Dennis the Menace

Mika:

Dame Lettuce (Cucumber Quest)

Silver Spoon (My Little Pony)

Toadie (Amphibia)

Sir Tomato (Cucumber Quest)

Sanji Vinsmoke (One Piece)

Commander Peepers (Wander Over Yonder)

Felicity:

Princess Peach (Mario)

Diamond Tiara (My Little Pony)

Amity Blight (The Owl House)

Rarity (My Little Pony)

Amy Rose (Sonic the Hedgehog)

[munch-mumbles]

ive been a little upset about it all night so i need to write out all the things that happened at work today and are bugging me so i can TRY to get it out of my head and actually RELAX bc i just keep pacing in circles around it instead of just accepting it and moving on

[crushmeeren]

omg but imagine secretly giving the mha boys aphrodisiac chocolate and seeing how they react..

No but you’re RIGHT…. ( ੭ ˙ᗜ˙ )੭

𝛏 Master List Link 𝛏

Katsuki would stare at you with narrowed eyes when you hold your hand out and offer the piece of chocolate to him, your gaze wide and innocent until he pops the candy in his mouth.

Katsuki would be in a meeting not too long after, jaw clenched and teeth creaking when his uniform pants get too fucking snug for no reason. His cheeks will flush bubblegum pink, biting the head off of some hero he can’t remember the name of when asked what’s wrong.

Why the fuck can he only picture you face down and ass up in the air?

Why does he have to sink his nails into his thighs to hang onto his last thread of self control and restrain himself from palming his stiff cock when he thinks of your pussy split open for him?

Why the hell is sweat running down his temples and along his jaw like a goddamn river??

He doesn’t know.

What he is certain of, is his plan to tackle you to the bed as soon as he gets home. To cum the second he slides his achy cock inside your tight pussy, and then to fuck you until neither of you can stand to climax one more time.

Eijirou would happily accept the chocolate, humming in delight once he begins chewing.

Eijirou would then be relaxing with you on the couch, using every ounce of willpower to concentrate on the movie you’re watching together. His cheeks would turn as scarlet as his hair and he’d try to hide his face with the loose strands when you glance at him.

He’d squeak out that’s he’s fine when you ask if he’s feeling feverish. He’ll clumsily cover his cock with large hands, knees knocking into one another when he tries to close his legs.

Eijirou would whimper in your ear “fuck, I’m sorry baby, I need your pussy. I can’t stop myself,” as he gives in to the heat churning in his belly and bends you over the armrest of your couch to fuck you like a dog.

You’ll babble and gasp it’s okay, crying out his name when he makes you orgasm for what feels like the hundredth time — only for his dick to remain hot and full after he’s already cum inside you so much that you’re sure you’re going to get pregnant.

Shouto would take a bit more convincing. He doesn’t ordinarily eat chocolate, but he’s willing to try it if you’re the one presenting it to him.

Shouto would be leisurely walking alongside you in the grocery store, occasionally making noises of agreement as you tell him about your day.

Shouto would suddenly freeze mid stride, becoming rigid in the middle of the aisle. He’ll blink owlish eyes at you several times when you turn back to question what he’s doing.

You’ll snap your fingers to get his attention when he starts to stare at the swell of your tits for way too long instead of listening to you, cheeks filling out with a blush when he meets your gaze.

The next thing you know, your half full grocery cart is abandoned in the aisle and you’re yanked by the wrist back to your car in the parking lot.

Shouto would mutter breathlessly “sorry baby, I can’t seem to control myself,” when he gets your pants off, leaving the material to dangle from one ankle before tugging you down to straddle his lap in the backseat.

He’ll unbutton his pants and shove them down far enough to free himself, not bothering with your panties and sliding them to the side as he sits you down on his cock and let’s out a low moan.

Shouto will match your every move, thrusting upwards harshly each time you sit down. He won’t give a single fuck if someone walks past the car, he just knows he needs your pussy to keep swallowing his cock until the insatiable burn in his lower belly subsides.

It takes…awhile.

[shencomix]

Recently I decided to go to my local fighting game tournament.

Here's how it went.

I had been getting pretty good at Guilty Gear over the past few weeks, to the point where I was getting the input correctly for the Potemkin Buster 1 out of every 4 or 5 times I tried it. So I thought "I might not be the best yet, but, surely good enough for my local" -- and I decided to go.

It took place at a the comic & games store in the town center. The venue was full of people 10-15 years younger than me and even more drastically cooler. They all turned to glare at me as I walked through the door, but as I stood completely motionless like a gazelle hoping to blend into the grassland, their gazes slowly returned to each other and they continued to banter friendlily.

I sat down next to me first opponent, and reached out to shake their hand. They looked down at my hand, and then up at my eyes slowly.

"You're supposed to do that at the end of the match."

"Oh, s-sorry"

I got perfected twice and lost the match. At the end, I reached out again to shake their hand, but they just stood up and walked away.

Because I lost, I got moved down to the loser's bracket, which was literally below the main tournament because it took place in the basement of the comic shop. I could hear footsteps, cheering, and happy conversation in the floor above. Here in the loser's bracket though, the mood was a lot more somber.

My next opponent reminded me a little bit of me. They were equally nervous and disheveled looking. They said "Um, h-hello" and reached out their hand for a handshake as they saw me approaching. I said "you're s-supposed to do that at the end of the match." But as a look of deep sadness came over their face and they slowly put down their hand, I pulled them in for a hug.

I'm not sure why I did that.

I think that some part of me knew that, in this dark, dank, alien place, illuminated only by a single failing ceiling light and the neon glow of a few arcade machines, I had at last found a friend -- someone I understood, and who might understand me too.

They hugged back.

I lost that match by a very narrow margin, and as they jumped up and began dancing around and cheering ecstatically, I began to hate them. This was no friend of mine. A friend would not do this to me. After they were done dancing, they reached out to shake my hand. After a few seconds of pause, I stuck out my hand too, but didn't look at them and refused to close it around theirs as they grasped it. They shook my karate chop.

I thought that at that point, since I had lost and then lost in loser's bracket, I was free to go home. But one of the tournament organizers approached me and informed me that I was going down to sub-loser's bracket in the sub-basement of the store, and pointed me towards a descending staircase.

The people there were fewer, and it was darker. I could faintly hear sobbing in one of the corners, but as I went to investigate, another participant put his hand on my shoulder. He furrowed his brow in a look of pain and shook his head slowly.

"You can't do anything for them."

In sub-loser's bracket I went up against a man in a suit whose face was cloaked in shadow. He spammed May's dolphin move. I lost.

As I went to go back upstairs, one of the tournament organizers held out her palm to stop me, and pointed towards a staircase leading further down instead.

Going down through the levels, I lost to many interesting participants. One player played exclusively by bashing the controller against his face. One player was a mushroom with a few circuit cables clipped onto it, that I later learned was able to play because its bioelectrical signals got sent to a machine that interpreted them as fighting game inputs. One player didn't touch their controller at all, but instead just told me their life story, which was so tragic that I picked up their controller and won for them.

Finally, at the very bottom floor, where construction standards were long abandoned and the stairs and walls were just messily carved out of the earth's stone, I faced my final player. It was a small bit of metal framework, with a controller nestled in it. On it was a tiny piston that just pressed the jab button exactly once every second. I lost.

I hung my head for a moment, then said "close game" and stuck my hand out for a handshake, before remembering that I had played against a metal framework cube with a piston in it and retracting my hand slowly. Then I heard a slow clapping from the darkness.

"No neutral. No footsies."

Out of the darkness slowly walked a woman about my age, clad in a decorative poofy dress that looked more expensive than my entire life savings. She smiled at me warmly, continuing to clap slowly, but there was a hint of mischief in her eyes.

"No meter management. No mixups. No spacing. No learning. No strategy…

…You're perfect."

"Wh-what?"

"You're perfect. I absolutely must have you."

"Have me for…um…for what…"

(Her eyes went wide as her smile grew more manic.)

"WHY, MY MORON FAILSON HAREM OF COURSE."

"Um, I-I"

"Tell me, what do you do for a living? Let me guess, you work at a fast food restaurant? Or, retail?"

"No, I'm a--I'm a comic artist."

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!! Oh my god, you are PERFECT. What will it take to get you."

"To-to ge--"

"You would be well taken care of, of course. 3 Michelin star dining for every meal. Only the finest, softest sweatpants and sweatshirts, pre-stained with whatever flavor of Takis your little heart desires. You would have access to the entire mansion except for the main foyer when I'm in business calls, and you could make all the comics and play all the fighting games you want."

"I'm uh--"

I knew that I had to think fast here.

"I'm already i-in a moron failson harem."

"Oh, DARN IT!! TELL ME, WHO IS IT??? WHO GOT YOU??"

"I-I think I'm not allowed to s-sa--"

She stomped her foot petulantly, her shoe clacking against the stone floor.

"WAS IT SHUXUAN?? IT'S ALWAYS SHUXUAN HOGGING ALL OF THE GOOD ONES."

"I-I'm sorry," I blurted out, shuffling along the wall to make a wide radius around her and then running up the staircase.

As I got home and began making my standard dinner of Trader Joe's microwave falafel, I thought about her offer. Maybe I should have taken her up on it after all. A 3 Michelin star meal right now wouldn't be so bad.

Then I hopped on Guilty Gear and lost 22 matches in a row.

[loonylupinblack3]

Period Trouble

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Reader

Warnings: swearing, nothing else i think?

Summary: you wake up with your period and are forced to go on a mission with Logan of all people

Word count: 2.4k

A/N: literally obsessed with this man rn so ofc i had to write about him. also wolverine has enhanced senses including smell but its like…. barely shown in the movies so i had to search it up to be sure, and some part of me still doubts it but for the purposes of this fic he does have it

You woke up with a groan, immediately curling into a ball. You were early. You were early and you hadn’t emotionally or physically prepared for having your period today, yet the world seemed ready to punish you, burdening you with an early cycle.

You checked the time, cursing every god and deity you knew when you realised you were supposed to have woken up half an hour ago. Wincing, you got up, your body screaming at the movement. Already your stomach was aching, the ghosts of cramps to come caressing your body. 

There was knocking at your door, quiet yet firm. You already knew it was Storm on the other side of the door, no doubt in search of a reason why you failed to get up on time. It was going to be a long day.

You yelled out to Storm, promising to be out in five minutes, and got up, groggily looking for your clothes. When you’d tamed your hair and brushed your teeth, you exited your room to find Storm waiting on the other side, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed.

She took one look at you and sighed. “What are you wearing?”

You looked down perplexed. “....my clothes?”

She raised her eyebrow. “You’re on a mission today, remember?”

Fuck. You nearly let out a whine. You were not in the mood to go skulking around doing Xavier’s bidding when you had a constant throbbing pain assaulting your stomach, unreasonable mood swings, and exhaustion weighing you down.

Storm sent you a questioning look. “You up for this?”

The mission was nothing big. Professor X needed you to collect some sort of rare herb that had recently been shipped into the nearest city, something he needed to complete a super secret experiment you weren’t privy to. He’d just asked for help and you’d volunteered.

Oh how you regretted that decision now.

“Yeah I’m fine,” you muttered. “Let me just get changed real quick.”

Getting into your previously decided upon outfit, a plain inconspicuous one intended to blend in, you left your room again, this time with no complaint from Storm. Your stomach gave an uncomfortable clench and you sighed, making a mental note to find some nurofen before leaving for the mission.

“Why aren’t you in your outfit?” you asked, just realising Storm wasn’t wearing what you two had agreed upon yesterday.

She winced slightly. “Can’t go. Filling in for some classes.”

Your face soured but you tried not to hold it against her. Storm loved her students, and given the choice of helping them or Xavier with a low level mission, she’d obviously choose her kids. You couldn’t blame her exactly, but it meant you’d have to go on this mission alone, while not impossible by any means it would make it slightly more difficult.

You sighed. “That’s okay. I can go alone.”

When Storm winced even more your eyes narrowed in suspicion, following her with caution. “Storm…..”

She sighed guiltily. “Xavier didn’t want you to go alone. The herb’s too valuable.”

You tilted your head slightly as you entered the house’s foyer. “So who am I going with then?”

Storm’s eyes darted ahead, and you followed her gaze to find Logan Howlett leaning against the wall, hands in the pockets of his jeans. He smirked at you, “you’re looking at him sweetheart.”

You resisted the urge to groan, instead sending Storm a dirty look. You didn’t necessarily dislike Logan, but he was a lot to deal with, and you were already tired from your day that had barely begun.

You couldn’t say all that with Logan standing there however, so you muttered a, “lovely,” and walked past the man to the garage.

He followed you silently, no quip or smart ass comment which was strange for him. You’d just entered the garage, heading towards one of the cars, when you glanced back at him and found Logan stopped in the doorway, staring at you with a frown on his face. Or rather, a deeper frown than usual.

“What is it?” you asked him, standing at the hood of the car.

Logan’s eyes roved your body, searching for something. “You’re injured.”

It was your turn to frown. “What? No I’m not.”

He took a step forward, almost as if he was planning on looking for your alleged injury himself. “Don’t bullshit me Y/n, I can smell your blood.”

You made a face. “What are you talking about…..” you trailed off when you realised it, perhaps the most mortifying moment in your life.

Logan could smell your period blood. He thought you were bleeding from an injury. 

You cleared your throat, feeling your cheeks heat up. “I’m fine. Let’s go.”

He scoffed, walking towards you until you were face to face. You tried to step back and felt the hood of the car against your legs. “I can smell the fucking blood seeping out of you Y/n. I wouldn’t call that fine.”

You gritted your teeth to stop yourself from snapping at him. “I can assure you, I am not injured.”

You moved to walk past him but he caught your wrist, forcing you back into your position pressed against the car. “If you think I am going on this mission with you while you’re wounded, you’re out of your mind.”

“I’m not-”

“Do you think I’m an idiot darl? Is that why you’re denying being hurt while I can literally smell it on you-”

You cut him off. “I’m on my period, Logan.”

He paused, staring at you with an indecipherable expression on his face. You waited for him to speak, feeling embarrassed and furious about it. Why should you be embarrassed of your period? He was the one who was pushing you, prodding you, forcing you to tell him the source of the bleeding. If your answer made him uncomfortable, that wasn’t your fault nor your concern.

Eventually he spoke. “Alright then. Get in the car. I’m driving.”

You scowled at him. “Says who?”

He didn’t even bother looking at you, already in the driver’s seat. “Says me.”

You sighed but didn’t argue further, silently getting into the passenger seat. Logan started the car, reversing it out of the garage and driving down the long winding driveway till you got to the street.

“It’s an hour's drive to the city, give or take,” you told Logan, setting the GPS up on the car.

Logan barely glanced at it, eyes on the road, a firm grip on the steering wheel. He didn’t even respond to you. You sighed and turned away, looking out the window as the scenery passed you in flashes.

As the drive continued, you noticed Logan sending you glances every now and then. If you really focused on them, you’d almost say they seemed worried, concerned even, but they were always too quick for you to tell for certain. You were too preoccupied with your cramps that had started up anyway, and the lack of nurofen you’d forgotten to grab.

Finally, you arrived at the city, driving into the hustle and bustle of the crowded area. Logan’s hand tightened on the steering wheel, obviously not a fan of the traffic the city provided. You watched the stream of people through the window as Logan looked for a space to park, muttering under his breath.

You were mildly entertained at the amount of road rage he had, cursing every car that wasn’t at least 10 metres over the speed limit. His jaw was clenched, hand fisting the steering wheel, yet he still looked at you here and there, like you were actually wounded.

When he eventually found a parking spot the two of you got out of the car and you looked at the address Xavier gave you.

“Should be somewhere along this street,” you murmured, eyes flicking from the piece of paper to the busy street.

Logan moved behind you, so close you could feel your back against his chest, and looked at the paper in your hand. He let out a grunt and moved past you, walking forwards. You frowned and hurried your pace, not wanting to lose him amidst the crowd of people.

Luck was certainly not your side, because soon enough you’d lost him, unable to see his black leather jacket in the throng of people. You hesitated, wondering if you should look for him or just go straight to the address, when you felt an arm around your waist.

“Stay close to me,” Logan murmured into your war, his voice gravelly. “Don’t wanna lose you again.”

You glanced at him as he continued walking, not moving his arm from your waist. “How’d you find me?”

He gave you a smirk. “Followed the smell of blood.”

Again you felt your cheeks heat but you glared at him defiantly, refusing to be embarrassed. He smirked at you, flashing his teeth, as you arrived in front of the address, a plain building home to some sort of florist. 

Logan finally took his hand from your waist, walking to the door with you trailing behind him. A bell gave a little jingle as you entered, and you were immediately assaulted with the smell of flowers. Different sorts of plants took up every corner of the room and Logan’s face soured as he looked around, obviously not pleased with the environment.

An old woman sat behind a desk, watering a plant with a mini watering can. You walked up to her, Logan hot on your heels. When you stopped in front of the desk Logan was so close behind you you could actually feel his chest against your back.

“Mrs May?” you asked.

The old woman looked at you with a smile, her eyes crinkling. “That’s me. What can I help you two lovebirds with? Bouquet of roses? Lilies?”

You opened your mouth, surprised, and tried to find something to say. Being mistaken for a couple shouldn’t have affected you so much, especially while on a mission, but you were flustered and could still feel Logan’s chest right against your back, his warmth almost dizzying.

“We’re not here for flowers unfortunately,” Logan spoke, saving you. Except why didn’t he specify you weren’t a couple? Did that not matter to him, what some old lady thought, or did he enjoy the idea of being thought of as your boyfriend?

Oh god. What were you thinking? Stupid period hormones. 

The old lady looked at you two curiously. “Then how can I help you?”

There was a pointed silence and you realised Logan was waiting for you to speak. You cleared your throat and spoke the random sequence of words Xavier had you memorise, that would inform Mrs May just what type of buyers you were.

The woman’s eyes lit up with recognition and she nodded her head slowly. “Ah, yes, let me just go to the storage room quickly, I’ll be back….”

Mrs May tottered around the desk and through a side door, half hidden behind the multitude of plants covering the area, leaving you alone with Logan.

You took a step away from him and turned around to look at him, finding him staring at you with a frown on his face.

You frowned back at him. “What’s up with you today?”

He raised his eyebrows at you. “What is up with me? I don’t know if you’ve noticed Darl but you haven’t exactly been up to par yourself.”

You rolled your eyes at his words. “That’s not what I meant, and besides, I’m on my period.”

Logan stared at you, arms crossed. “What did ya mean then?”

“You’ve been acting strange. Less talkative and annoying like usual.”

Logan snorted. “Ever the lady.”

“I’m serious. What’s up with you?”

Logan sighed and took a step forward until he was towering over you and you had to crane your head up to look at him. “You are what’s up. I can constantly smell you bleeding, and I can’t get it out of my mind that it means you’re hurt. You’re driving me crazy sweetheart.”

Well…. That certainly wasn’t what you were expecting. Logan smirked down at you as if he knew that, and enjoyed surprising you. You cleared your throat as your eyes darted to the floor. “Well, that’s hardly my fault.”

Logan chuckled. “Not your fault no, but it is your doing whether you mean to or not.”

You swallowed, looking back up at him. “Well…. Don’t you constantly smell when people are on their periods?”

“It’s different with you. Smelling your blood just drives me crazy, plain and simple. Can’t get the instinct out of my head that blood means injury.”

The way Logan was admitting all of this, with such calm, made you think he’d been wanting to say this for a while. The unspoken confession was there, and it was up to you to decide what to do with it.

“I’m glad you care,” was what you landed on, unsure of what else to say.

Logan chuckled again, one hand snaking to your waist. “I do a lot more than care, Y/n.”

You smiled softly, looking up at him. With his other hand he brushed your cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. The sound of a door closing brought you out of your little bubble and you took a step back, Logan reluctantly letting go of your waist.

Mrs May, either not having seen you two or graciously deciding to ignore it, passed you a package, informing you the herb and all information involving it was inside, and to handle it with care. You nodded and thanked the old woman before exiting the building, Logan again right on your heels.

As soon as the shop’s door closed behind you Logan’s hand was back around your waist. “Not losing you this time.”

You tried not to smile, though internally you were grinning like a maniac, and let Logan lead the two of you back to the car. You didn’t even get to argue your case of driving this time, Logan already in the driver’s seat. You sighed and got into the passenger seat, resigning yourself to another hour of silence as Logan started driving, when you felt his hand on your thigh.

You looked at him but he didn’t say anything, just gave it a light squeeze as he kept his eyes on the road. You looked away, grinning. So maybe the world didn’t have it out for you after all.

[reverieblondie]

Remember Me?

Pairing: ExNerd!Miguel O’Hara X fem!civillainreader

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, Smut with Plot, Praise, Unprotected Penetrative Sex (wrap it before you tap it), , Oral, Cowgirl, Missionary. You and Miguel make a mess...

Summary: Miguel has changed a lot since high school, but one thing remains the same...how he feels about you.

A/N: I have been trying to write about Miguel for weeks now! Every time I get close to finishing something for him I reread it and hate it! So I am posting this before I can change my mind! I hope you all enjoy I tried my best!

Word Count: 6,823

Part 2: coming soon....

“Pfft…I can't believe this is real; this can’t be real!” Gwen keeps repeating to herself, trying to stifle back her laughter. 

“I know! I couldn’t believe my eyes when Peter showed me but here it is!” Miles agrees; Pav quickly slings his arm around Miles for a better look.   

“Take a look at the specks on him. Did you know he needed glasses?” 

“Flip to the club photo. Now, that will shock you all.” 

At Hobies request the teens quickly start flipping through pages. The sound of flipping pages and then the sudden bursting of laughter from the small huddle was something Miguel could no longer ignore. Miguel wasn’t sure why the teens and Peter were in his office. But since the events with the spot and some well-deserved apologies, Miguel, in the teen's words, “Chilled out,” and now they seem to hang out around him more. Meaning they are often now in his office… Miguel, of course, tried to appear as indifferent as possible to this change of pace, though He had to admit it was somewhat nice to have the cheerful ambiance that came with them... Hell, sometimes they could make him chuckle; Miles was actually pretty funny. But, of course, he keeps these things to himself. 

Miguel makes his way to the huddle to see what could possibly be so enthralling. When he sees what's causing their uproar, his blood runs cold, freezing him dead in his tracks.

Is….that…his….yearbook…

It was turned to his picture and plan as the day under his unrecognizable photo was his name. So there was no getting out of this saying it wasn’t him…

“Miguel, is this really you?” Miles questions pointing to the picture. 

“Must be his name right there,” Pav teases, making Miguel groan. This was an actual nightmare. 

Looking over them, Miguel sees the picture they are all questioning; the difference is pretty night and day. A young 17-year-old Miguel was way scrawnier compared to his now bulking physique. His dark brown eyes were hidden behind his thick black-rimmed glasses, the only ones his mother could afford at the time. Miguel's thick, wavy brown hair looks untamed as it hangs down his forehead, threatening to cover his eyes if not for his glasses, the rest hanging loosely down to the nape of his neck. Poor kid was desperate for a haircut. Their cheekbones and jaw were still chiseled, and his face was not yet littered with lines of stress, sleepless nights, and age.  

Hobie quickly grabs the yearbook, vigorously flipping through the pages until he stops on a picture of a young Miguel holding up a mathlete trophy, awkward smile and all. “This is my favorite picture. Do you still smile like that, bruv?” 

“How did you all get this?” Miguel asks in irritation, pinching the bridge of his nose as if that will somehow stop his building anger and embarrassment. 

Very aware of the sight of Miguel about to rage out, the young spiders quickly part, pointing the blame to a laughing Peter. Who finally quits his laughing fit as now he is staring into the eyes of a very irritated Miguel, waiting for an explanation. 

Peter nervously clears his throat before speaking, “Wel, uh…do you remember a couple of days ago when you told me to drop off that equipment at your apartment? Well…I happened to see this on your living room bookshelf and thought I would look at it. Then I saw how much you had changed… I figured the kiddos would get a kick out of it…”

Miguel's eyes narrow, and his talons pop out, ready to bounce, but that is quickly escalated by Gwen taking back the yearbook, prepared to negotiate peace. 

“Okay, okay, no need to rip his head off; we will return your book.” Miguel's body relaxes as he sighs of relief, holding out his hand for the book, but Gwen smirks, holding the book back out of his reach, “But, you have to show us your old crush first.” 

Miguel’s eyes nearly pop out of his head, freezing at the terms of the agreement, and everyone else, including Layla, starts oohing. Making Miguel pitch the bridge of his nose again, muttering under his breath, “Esto tiene que ser una pesadilla…” (this has to be a nightmare…) 

Then, to make things worse, they start chanting, “Show us….Show us…Show us! Show us!!”

The chatting became too much, and he snapped, holding out his hand irritatedly for the book. “Fine! I will show you; just shut up!” 

A yay fills the room as Miguel starts irritatedly flipping through the book as soon as it’s laid in his hand. Everyone waits in bated breath until finally landing on the correct page. It's the page he spent the summer before college staring at, the picture he had agonized over. Miguel pauses, taking in the picture, and he feels those familiar feelings rushing up and swelling in his chest…Those high school crushes do hit you hard…

Even after all these years, he still remembers you so vividly; seeing the picture always solidifies for himself as confirmation as to why he had liked you so much. Beautiful and popular, everyone would only have positive things to say, even if your friend group wasn’t as nice. Miguel remembers that sweetness fondly. Though, behind that sweet smile, there was a mischievous side of you; he recalls hearing it hidden in your cooing voice when you would say that pet name during chemistry class… 

“Miggy~”     

The memory warms Miguel's cheeks, but he quickly dismisses the feeling. “There, that's her.” 

The teens quickly grab the book back, climbing over each other to marvel at the picture of the girl the oh-so-scary Spider-Man 2099 had a crush on when he was their age. 

“Wow, she's stunning!” Gwen complements 

Miguel hums in agreement, “Yeah… the prettiest girl in my grade…prom queen, part of the student council, incredibly sweet…, and we took chemistry together…” 

Pav and Hobie shoot Miguel a smirk, and he quickly huffs, folding his arms over his chest. 

“Ever work up the nerve to confess?” Pav questions, ever the romantic. 

The group watches as Miguel closes his eyes, thinking that the blush from earlier is slowly rising to his tan cheeks, making them all gasp in excitement. 

“You did!” They all scream, but Miguel is quick to correct them. 

“Well…technically…I didn’t” 

“What do you mean technically?” Miles prys

Miguel can’t believe he admitted this much, but since he's already down the rabbit hole, he might as well give some more context: “At graduation…I kinda did, then I…ran away…”

A look of shock and confusion fills the teenager's face, but Peter is all grins and is going to give Miguel a high five: “Ah, the mysterious type. Nice.” 

Gwen quickly swats him on the shoulder, earning a whine from the man. 

“Not nice! That is so confusing! You just ran? Did you ever talk to her again?” 

Miguel takes a second to avoid eye contact, stoically starting to the side, before letting out a quiet, “No…” 

There is a collective groan, and Miguel rolls his eyes, trying to contain his high school embarrassment. 

“Can we stop talking about this and return to work now?”

“Have you seen her since?” Miles questions, 

“No,” Miguel answers sharply, irritation coming back up.

“Wha-what! How will you ever win her love if you don’t clear up the misunderstanding and confess your true feelings!” Pav laments, making everyone look at him with a raised brow. 

“Pav, mate…you know how long it's been since he's seen her?” Hobie chides 

Pav shrugs slightly, muttering, “Maybe it could be like a romantic thing…” 

“So wait, You have all the resources and never thought to at least search her out? Aren't you curious?” Gwen prods 

“No, I never thought about stalking my old crush. Now, can we please-” 

“She lives in the city!” Miles' voice calls out, making Miguel whip around.

Miles and Layla stand on Miguel's platform with your picture, info, and social media pulled up on his halo screens. Everyone is quick to web over, including Miguel. Miguel quickly pushes away a beaming Miles as he takes in all your information. He sees where you went to college, where you work, and…

“Ooohhh! She's still single!” Pav beams, looking at Miguel expectancy.

Miguel rolls his eyes as he keeps looking at you, still as perfect as he remembered. Somehow, you seem more confident in yourself, you seem…sexier…

Feelings start rising back to Miguel's chest. He hasn’t seen you in so long, and even your pictures still stir something within him. 

“Wow! This is awesome!” Miles beams, pointing to one of the screens 

Miguel, being too lost in your pictures, hasn’t realized what the teens are yammering about until they all start shaking him back and forth in excitement. Then he finally hears it.

“You can see her at your High School reunion! It's coming up in a couple of weeks!” 

Miguel turns his head to the invitation Layla had pulled up. “You got this a month ago but didn’t think you would be interested…. It looks like you will be attending now, though!” 

Before he can protest, she is RSVPing, and all the teens are hollering in laughter and giving high-fives. Everything is happening so fast that all Miguel can do is stand there in something akin to a trance. That's until Pav comes up to him with a giddy smile, 

“It’s like density!” 

Miguel groans…he wants everyone to get back to work…

They really got him here….How the hell did he let them convince him to come here? They even managed to get him to dress up…

Hair in its usually slick back style, slate gray button down that did little to hide his bulk, and black trousers that he thought appeared too tight but Layla had insisted upon.  

Miguel stands uncomfortably off to the side as people he used to know all gather together, chit-chatting about their lives and reminiscing on the good old days… All while Miguel stays sulking in the corner…Maybe things from high school haven’t changed that much. Well, despite the whole genetic splicing that made him a superhero… Instead of still being the captain of the Mathletes team, he's now the CEO of Aleamax. However, one thing remains the same: When he is in a room filled with all these people from school, his eyes still roam around, trying to find you…

High school had not been kind to a nerd like him. He was 9 inches shorter, and the most important things to him were keeping all A’s, getting into his dream college, keeping up with his favorite comic series, avoiding bullying, and wanting so badly to kiss his crush. 

Miguel vividly recalls all those times in chemistry when you two worked so closely together. Miguel shyly mutters the mixing process while you lean in with stars in your eyes, taking it all in. Miguel never knew if you were interested in what he was saying or if you were trying to get a good grade, but he didn’t care. You still made his cheeks flush and heart race all the same. 

“Then…When-when you add fluid B to A, you will get a fizzing reaction…” 

A shaking Younger Miguel tries to steadily pour in the fluids while you watch, leaning in so close he could smell your sweet perfume and look at your glittery glossed lips. 

“Wow! Miggy, you’re so smart.” Your voice would be like sweet honey praising him, and the mere closeness of you to him would make his body feel like it was going to melt. 

“I keep telling my friends I have the best lab partner…” Miguel feels his throat dry as your hand slowly curls over his forearm. Then the bell rings, and Miguel is flustered, packing his things as you smile sweetly and wave goodbye. 

God, you must have been just messing with him, toying with him, knowing he was like a love-sick puppy for you. The worst part, if this was the case, he would have let you…Miguel would have let you toy and bat away at his heart until you felt content with it fully unraveling to you. Pathic…is that what you thought? Well, if it wasn’t what you thought of him before, it must be what you thought after his pitiful confession…

Miguel thinks back to that night when he last saw you…that all too familiar warmth threatens to take him over, so as he stares down at his drink, he slips back to that moment…

The ceremony had ended, everyone had exited the stadium, and Miguel was taking a second to calm himself in the dark hallway. High school was over, and his life was beginning. He was thinking back on all his decisions for this new chapter. Miguel fidgets with his graduation cap and feels about what awaits him. Then he thinks about the things he missed out on…

Then your face comes to mind…he had vowed to confess; even if you laughed and rejected him, he wanted to get his feelings off his chest. But when it came down to it, he let his shyness get the better of him and let you slip through his fingers without telling you. This was high school? He was sure to like other girls…but why was this eating away at him so much? Why did he feel so sick to his stomach for not doing this… 

The sound of clicking heels fills the corridor, and like fate, you are walking through the hallway back toward him. Miguel adjusts his glasses, unsure if this is some kind of halustion brought on by self-pity, but no�� it was you…

As soon as your eyes locked to his, your lips curled to that all too familiar smile, the one that was so sweet. Then your voice rang that teasing nickname you graciously bestowed upon him.  

“Miggy, what are you doing, silly? Hanging out in the dark…Don’t you want to go celebrate?” 

“Oh…... I didn’t plan to go to any parties… just going to go home and get started on some summer reading…”

The smile that curled on your lips was additive as you stepped closer to his slouching form, “hm…Miggy…always so prepared… I’m going to miss seeing you around so much. I’m sure you're the only reason I passed chem!”  

“No…I am sure you will have more interesting people to talk to than a nerd like me…” 

“Maybe I like talking to nerds like you.” 

The statement made Miguel look up to see you so close to him mischive filling your eyes. Leaning in so close to him, he feels like he can’t breathe when he looks at you so close like this…

“You don’t mean that…” he chuckles softly.

Then your index finger lifts his chin, and you look at him with sweet eyes, but your tone is stern, “Don’t tell me what I mean…” 

Miguel feels his heartbeat quicken, and his palms begin to sweat. Before he can return to rational thought, he leans into you. 

He so gently cups your cheek with his nervous hands. Brushing his nose against yours, his shaky breath fanning over your sparkly glossed lips. Then, when your lips finally meet, he isn’t sure who fills the gap. 

The kiss was so sweet, and he held you so gently, but he knew you could feel the shaking of his hands and the heat rushing to his face. Everything around you two seemed to fade.

Eyes shut tightly from falling into the depths of the kiss, he pulls away to breathe. Peeking open his eyes, Miguels sees you are breathless, and your face is burning with a deep blush. You look so surprised... and he doesn't know what to say or how to explain. 

“I’m sorry…I just had to do that once…”

Then he ran off… leaving you alone in that dark hallway, scared of what you would say next…

“Miggy!” 

“Miggy!”

“Miguel?” 

Lost in his thoughts, Miguel failed to notice that one of his ex-classmates had been trying to get his attention. One of them must have finally recognized him. Looking up from his cup, Miguel expects to see one of his old mathlete teammates, but as he finally meets their eyes, he feels his heart stop at the sight. 

Looking up at him with that same sweet smile, you look just like he remembers: completely radiant. Your pictures showed you were still beautiful, but in person, you are the thing he remembers most about you: breathtaking.

“Miguel, that's gotta be you… Do you remember me?” -How could he not remember you?

Miguel feels himself staring at his thoughts, running everywhere; what does he say? What does he do? 

“I…I, of course, remember m-my lab partner.” -Okay, a little shaky…But with your face seeming to light up when he says he remembers and your eyes roaming over him, he can’t chastise himself too much for stuttering now. Miguel feels his hands starting to become clammy, and his stomach feels full of butterflies…shit…this feels like high school all over again. 

“I can not believe how different you look!”

“Yeah, late growth spurt and I uh… I started going…to the gym a lot….You though! You still look so beati- uh nice…good you look outstanding…” His mind is running a mile a minute, and he can’t believe how he is acting right now! He's Spider-Man, and he’s acting so nervous?

Smirking, you look as if you could read his mind about how nervous he is, though to anyone with working eyes, it was obvious. 

“You think I look good?” you ask, playful spinning, making Miguel's eyes take in just how tight your dress is. “I was hoping for beautiful…” you smile, giving him a wink. His blood rushes in his veins, and he swallows his suddenly dry throat. 

You could eat him alive…and he would let you…

“Beautiful then, you - uh… you have always looked beautiful…” 

“Thank you, Miguel, you look very handsome.” Miguel feels his heart racing as you step closer. Your eyes stay on his confident smile on your glossy lips. It teeters on cocky, and Miguel can’t bring himself to hate it…he loves it…

“Though Miguel, I do have to say…I miss the glasses; they were really cute.” 

“I still have some that I wear sometimes,” he says a bit too eagerly. 

Your smirk widens, “Really? Does your girlfriend like them?” 

“Oh, I don’t have a girlfriend.” 

The smirk on your lips borders on sinful “Good…” You purr 

Miguel feels a wave of electricity shake through him. Are you flirting? Miguel can’t help the smile and blush that's now reached to the tips of his ears. Miguel came here thinking that you wouldn’t be here, and if you were, you would be avoiding him, but he didn’t expect this. Do you even remember it? Well, of course, you would! Who forgets getting kissed, and then the person runs? He needs to apologize before he never sees you again. 

“So Umm…I am glad I got to see you, well other than it’s just nice seeing you…but I want to apologize…” 

“You’re talking about graduation.” Your cheerful voice cuts him off and utterly confuses him. Furrowing his brow, he’s lost and hoping you can explain. 

“Miguel, I liked the kiss…I wish you wouldn’t had run away…” 

Miguel is sure he’s died, and there is no possible way you're saying this to him. Sweet, perfect you, liked when he kissed you. Nerdy awkward him? Gently, Miguel feels your hands touching his chest, slowly dancing your fingertips over his muscles. Miguel hopes you can’t feel the way his heartbeat is racing right now. 

“You know, now that I really think about it…you owe me an apology or something. It was very rude of you to kiss me suddenly and then run away like that, teasing me. Then, when I went to reach out to you, you didn't have any socials. That's not very nice to do, you know…”  

Your hand slightly grazes his jaw, and he feels like he could melt. Rising to your tiptoes, you try to whisper in his ear as you lean into his chest, your chest rubbing against him. Miguel can feel himself starting to break a sweat. 

“I thought you were sweet…” 

Miguel feels you start to pull away, and in a moment of bravery or desperation, he carefully places his hands on your waist. Leaning down, he whispers back to you. 

“Could I make it up to you somehow?” 

“I have an idea…if you're up for it?”

Gathering his confidence, when he sees your smile, he squeezes your sides slightly, “Anything you want.” 

Without any hesitation, you grab his large hand from your waist and pull him along with you to slip out of the reception room into a dark hallway. The irony is not lost on either of you as you grin and pull each other close. Your lips are so close to his as you lean into his chest. 

“You're not going to run away this time. I want you to do this properly this time…”

Part of Miguel feels like he could be dreaming; your arms are wrapped around his neck, your fingers tangled in his hair, smiling at him so sweetly. Your eyes are one of pure hunger, and your voice is so transparent with your want. It’s perfect. 

Miguel brushes his thumb over your tempting lips, slightly dragging the bottom down while he tries to archer himself back to reality. Moving his hand to your neck as he leans in and kisses you. Your lips are soft and perfectly guiding against his. Miguel's hands fall to your hips; he digs his fingers into the plush of your skin, making you gasp into his mouth with a moan. It’s been a long time since he’s kissed you, and he wants to make sure you know how much he wants you… trying his hardest to impress you. 

The fingers in his hair tighten to a fist as you guide him to part his plush lips, then slip in your tongue to get a taste of him. It’s gentle at first but quickly heats up from your eager influence. Then you start straddling his thick thighs, grinding slightly against him. Both your bodies feel like you’ve been set on fire in a blazing flame of want. 

“Miggy, I always liked you…just-”

Before you can finish your words, Miguel drives his tongue back into your mouth, eager to taste those words he had always wanted to hear. His hands cup your ass as he drives his knee deeper between your legs, letting you use him more. Breaking the kiss, you let out the most perfect moans as your body tingles and shivers. Miguel hasn’t had enough of you yet as he keeps his mouth kissing against your flushed skin. His tongue rolls over your rapid pulse as you keep grinding and mewing for more. 

“Fuck, miggy~”

Miguel licks a long strip up your neck before grunting in your ear, “I… I only came here… to see you…t-talk to you…” 

His rough words make you grind against him more, and right as Miguel starts to feel your slick soaking through his pants, you pull his hair, successfully pulling a whimper from him, which is quickly cut off by your soft lips to his again. Then, as you pull away, you bite his bottom lip, which makes him shiver. 

“Can…can I take you home…” Miguel asks breathlessly, his hands still squeezing your ass. 

A small giggle leaves your kiss-bitten lips as you take a second to fix his now-disheveled hair, thanks to you. 

“Take me to your place, Miggy; you still owe me…” 

Miguel feels a rush of excitement run through him, making his length throb at your words. You really are going to eat him alive…

It's the perfect sight he’s only ever dreamed of seeing, you sitting on his large bed completely naked, a sweet smile on your face, soft legs crossed over each other, waiting patiently for him. Miguel adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose…you had insisted, and he’s finding he can’t deny you…

Miguel slips off his underwear, kicking them away. Your eyes widen as you see his massive length slap against his abdomen, then hanging heavily. Your eyes rake over his immaculate form; the sight of you licking your lips isn’t lost on him. 

“Strip for me, Miggy,” you taunted as you dropped your dress with little effort, waiting for him to follow. Of course, he did. He would follow anything your sweet voice commands. Just please…let him touch you…

Running his hand through his hair, Miguel approaches you, but your sweet voice turns to him in disapproval, and he pauses. 

“No walking, I want you to crawl on your hands and knees…please? Miggy~” 

Every time you use that old nickname, he feels his cock twitch. Keeping his now blazing eyes on you as he slowly sinks to his knees and begins to crawl to you obediently. The action is meant to make him look submissive, but you find that even now, he looks like a predator getting ready to devour its prey… The shiver that shoots down your spine goes right to your sex, making you drip down on his sheets. 

As Miguel crawls closer, you unfold your legs, stretching one out slowly toward him. His large hand immediately catches your ankle. Hungry eyes look up at you, blazing with want, as his hand slowly caresses up your leg. Miguel's lips kiss softly against your calf while he whispers faint words under his breath after every kiss. His eyes watch you as he slowly raises your legs, the back of your thighs being pressed against his broad shoulders.  

Miguel's hands grab your hips, making you slip a moan. His eyes turn softer as he hears you moan, his lips coming away from the fresh mark he's left on your inner thigh. Miguel's lips part to apologize, but you're quick to interrupt before he can. 

Leaning forward, you push his glasses back into their proper place and caress his cheek. “You're doing so well for me, Miguel…though…It does feel like you're trying to make me beg… Are you trying to tease me?” 

Miguel's lips curl into a smile as he lowers his face to lick his tongue against your clit. You throw your head back at the hot contact, Miguel groaning at the sweet taste of your cyprine. 

“I wouldn’t dream of teasing you…” Miguel's lips lower down to your clit before he gives it a quick lick. 

Unable to help yourself, you grab a fist full of his hair, making him let out a soft groan, “Then devore me, Miggy; you still owe me, remember? And I-Ah!~” 

Before you can finish your taunting, Miguel is driving his face into your wet sex to selfishly devore more of you. Long slow licks of his warm tongue send waves of pleasure to flood your body as your toes curl from every push of his nose to your clit. 

His breaths for air huffing against your quivering sex, the tip of his tongue darting back to lick against your soft folds, making you whine. Looking down at him, his glasses crooked and hazy and his groans continue to vibrate through your pussy. Then the sensation of his tongue probing you open makes you close your thighs against his head and grab this thick hair, pulling hard enough for a grunt to slip through his chest. Getting the message, Miguel moves his tongue to lick your sensitive clit as his finger slips into you. Your grip on his hair gets tighter as you squirm, grinding your hips against his face, mouth hanging open as your chest heaves moan after moan. Your body starts shaking at the addition of another finger, making you feel jolts of pleasure that make you need to roll your hips onto his face more. 

Miguel could carless at the apparent use of his face for your pleasure; it's all he craves right now, your cum to dip all over his eager tongue. For your hips grind onto his face for hours. He would stay on his knees worshiping you like this until you're calling out from too much pleasure, and even then, he doesn’t know how he could pull himself away from your delicious taste. 

You feel him groan into you, the vibrations rushing through you to cause you to gasp and shiver as his tongue keeps sliding in and out of you, desperate for your sweetness. You want more, need more, you crave it with every roll of your hips; you want him in you deeply. Unclenching your thighs from his head, you pull his hair, forcing his face from you with a wet pop. 

Miguel's eyes are blown as he keeps them steady on yours, his full lips parted and panting. The sight of his face glistening with a mix of his saliva and your arousal is sinful and complete perfection. His poor glasses are resting on his face, still lopsided from his ravenous pursuit to taste your cunt. Leaving forward, you keep a smile as you hold his cheek; he immediately melts into it. Grabbing his glasses from his head, you toss them to his nightstand; before he can say anything to you, you're leaning forward to bring him into a kiss. His lips and tongue are laced with you, and you can’t help but want to giggle as he groans and leans his whole body onto you, so needy for more. 

With a gentle push to his massive chest, you can change the positions as you now straddle his hips effortlessly. You are slowly running your hands up and down his chest and abdomen, feeling his hair decorating his skin, making your mouth water. As you shift yourself up, you feel his swollen length hanging heavily as you nudge against it. The tip is hot and already pebbling with glistening pre-cum, straining for you to envelope around him. Reaching down, you flick your eyes from his eyes to his length. 

Miguel sure has changed over the years, but his face is so breathless and furrowing with every strained pleasure as you slide your thumb over his cocks slit. Whining so softly, sounding like the sweet nerd you remember. On the other hand, Miguel is witnessing you in a way only his mind had fantasized about. Your smile is no longer so sweet but devious; He wants to push his cock into you so deeply and have you shudder and scream while you gush all over him, But this teasing and taunting… it's mouth-watering. 

Touching his length, you feel the sheer heat of it as you carefully trace over the soft skin, feeling every vein. Tracing over the red weeping tip, you feel him shudder and mumble something under his breath as you grasp him to hold against you, seeing that he measures to your stomach. You can't help but bite your lip in anticipation of the stretch. 

Your eyes flick back to Miguels, “Think it will fit?” you tease.

“I will make it fit…” his rough voice sends a shiver down your spine. 

Lifting to your knees, you line up his tip to brush on your clit, making you gasp as you slip him through your folds. Then finally, you slip him in slowly, feeling his cock stretch your fluttering hole; the stretch is intense and makes you roll your eyes as your back arches. Miguel grabs your ass tightly, bucking his hips to sink in a bit faster; he pants a sorry as you let out a moan and squeeze your hands on his chest for support. Looking down at his beautifully blushing face, you only smile as you sink deeper. 

“So eager, Miggy~” 

All Miguel can manage is a smile as he works hard to keep himself from bottoming out immediately. He so badly just wants to shove it in deeply and rut into you like a damn animal. A groan builds in his throat as he tries to keep himself from whimpering as you continue to sink so slowly. His cock throbbing and stretching your walls as it heats your insides. Before he can manage a whine, you sink all the way down, taking every inch; before either of you can moan, you lean down to catch his lips in a needy kiss, taking control you guide him, your tongue pushes past his lips to taste his groans. While his tongue eagerly does the same. Pulling away from the kiss, you grind against him, relishing in the feeling of his cock pushing in deeper and his trimmed hairs tickling your sensitive skin; you can’t help but bite his bottom lip to compensate for the mind-numbing feeling. 

Miguel's hands squeeze harder, making you release his lip as your cunt to clenchs on him, the moan of his name dropping from your lips as your hips start to grind on him at a slow pace. Using your hands, you slightly push yourself up and rock your hips back and forth, letting his cock slide to bully your gummy insides, brushing your cervix with every nudge. Miguels is mesmerized as he roams his hands over your body, worshiping every inch of your skin with his careful fingertips brushing and rubbing you so tenderly. His hands come to your breast, where he takes a minute to squeeze and pinch your nipples, your whimper in response, and grind harder against his cock, pushing him to rub harder against your cervix.

“You look s-so fucking beautiful…your body, your…tatse…I’ve never stopped thi-thinking of you…” Miguel mutters through pants of hot breaths. 

The words spur you on, and you start to pick up your pace, making him moan out and guide your hips to rock back and forth faster, “Always so sweet…” you coo to him…the words are less taunting but just true; he has always been sweet to you…

“Only for you…” he muses, and you can’t help but smile, 

“Good…” 

You feel yourself starting to sip from having a clear head that's now blurring in a haze of lust as you continue to pursue your pleasure on his girth. Pushing in and out on him quicker. Your hands grab onto him tighter as you ravish your tight pussy with his throbbing cock. Begging for both his and your release. Fucking so deep in you, now your jaw falls slack as his cock keeps pushing against your velvety sweet spot, making jolts of pleasure pulse through your body with every bounce. 

The sweat that has built on your bodies works hard to try and cool your fevered states, but with every push into your cunt and with every clench around his length rousing him to go deeper makes it all in vain. There is no cooling as you two approach your white hot release, bodies only growing more hot and sensitive with every whine and every mind-numbing push. So close to tipping the other to ecstasy…

With a couple of aided thrust from Miguel fucking up into you, your muscles tenase and your mouth falls open in a pitched scream of his name as your danm burst making you clench and shudder on his cock, coming undone on top of him. You're quivering on his length as he carefully grinds you through your drenching pleasure, the feeling of his cock slipping deeper as you eagerly ride him through your high. 

With the way you clench so tightly and grind faster, Miguel couldn't help but feel himself throb and spurt right into your cervix. The feeling of it spurting so thickly, his cock pulsing inside of you, feeling so heavy in you with each twitch. This cum is hot and fills you so that it's leaking down mixing with your arousal, creating a sticky mess. You can't help yourself when you side on more and more feeling your cunt want to stick to his skin. 

Haze starting to clear you fall forward on him, you try to catch your breath in between placing frantic kisses to Miguel's chest and neck. Your orgasm leaves you utterly satisfied, but Miguels is not done…

With a quick turning over your body, you're lying on your back now as Miguel situates himself between your legs. He takes time to look over your flushed form, his massive hands dragging over your sensitive body, and you shiver and buck your hips up. Miguel takes your legs, pushing them up to your chest, making your mew from his touch, your pussy completely exposed to him. Miguel feels his breath catch as his cum leaks out of your trembling puffy cunt in milky drops. Miguel releases one of your legs to fall to his shoulder so he can plam his cock, still erect and ready for more. His red eyes flick back to your blisted-out face, and though you're at the point of overstimulation, you still ache for more. 

“M-Miggy…” you're the one to tremble shyly for him now, and the switch of the roles makes him fold. He’s helpless for you…

Leaning down carefully, Miguel cages you between his massive arms as he places a gentle, sweet kiss on your begging lips. Breaking the kiss, he whispers in your ear so softly, “More? Can you give me more? Perfect girl…let me feel you again…please…” 

Wrapping your arms around his neck, feeling his damp skin, you buck your hips up in your whine of, “More, Please, Miggy ah—I need more of you, always. You are so good to me.” 

He catches your hips in a quick grip as he lifts them up, smiling; it's everything he has ever wanted to hear from your sweet lips. And he is always eager to satisfy you. 

Miguel slips his cock into you with a groan; you're already so sensitive as he pushes down to the base, filling you so quickly that your body already starts quivering around him. Pressing soft kisses to your sweaty skin, he rolls his hips slow and deep. He is taking his time with you. Every thrust is hot and tingling, and you feel that familiar tense starting to build up again from the consistent pace he's set. Managing to open your eyes through moans and rolls, you see Miguel with beautifully flushed cheeks, eyes filled with want as he softly pants and whimpers with each clench of your wet cunt. 

As his pace quickens, you feel him throb, giving you new resolve to meet your hips with each thrust, and your core starts to burn deliciously. Your nails find their place, digging into his broad back. Every slap of his balls to your overly sensitive skin makes you moan and throw your head back. Miguel takes the opportunity to kiss and lick against your neck, his hot breath rushing over you. With a final clench and strained moan, you feel that white-hot wave of pleasure burn through you; his body shudders at the feeling of your cunt, so desperate to cum against him to milk him dry again. His groan borders on a whine as his hips are still, and you feel that familiar throbbing against your cervix as his thick cum fills you up. Looking up at him, you watch his face contort to be in complete pleasure; the sight of it is completely addicting. 

Staying in you till you are both down from your highs, he slowly pulls out his softening cock. The pooling of both of your cum completely ruins the sheets underneath you, but Miguel doesn’t worry about that. He brushes stray hairs from your face and whispers he will be right back. You're too exhausted to move, and you can only twitch slightly as you feel a cool cloth cleaning you up so gently. 

After cleaning you up, you feel the bed sink beside you and the feeling of an arm around you, bringing you closer to his warm body, his other hand brushing through your hair so carefully. You gather your energy to curl into Miguel with a broad smile. You two lay there, slowly drifting away in each other's comfort. 

Clearing his throat, Miguel tries to be as unawkward as possible, and it only manages to make you smile more; you two just had amazing sex, and he’s still nervous; some things die hard, you guess. Looking up at him, you see he’s trying to gather up the best way to approach his next words; this night has been everything he hoped, and he doesn’t want to blow it now, but he needs to know the answer to his question, 

“Can-can I…take you out on a date?” 

His face is completely sincere and flushed; you have to bite back your giggle before you answer. 

“Miggy, about time you asked…” 

You two set the date up for the next night; Miguel, of course, wore his glasses…

[glow-in-the-dark-death]

A Week (He Will Take You)

~

Danny moved to Gotham for school, while there he noticed that Gotham's ambient ecto was really murky for lack of a better word.

This didn't really affect him too much besides a mild headache every once in a while but that also just might be stress from all his school work so maybe not.

Anyway

This murky ecto seemed to effect the people who lived there or more importantly the ghosts,

They were visible to the human eye like most ghosts back in Amity but instead of looking very much like a ghost they still looked like humans if a bit off putting.

They all seemed to be continuing their normal lives as if still fully alive, with the people around them none the wiser.

Danny noticed this and began approaching them to figure out what was going on.

Apparently the murky ecto in the city had made it so that they were strong enough to still continue a somewhat normal life but not be able to cross over to the GZ.

In other words they were stuck in Gotham

Danny was the Ghost King so he could easily fix this problem, all he needed to do was give them a bit of pure ecto for around a week to fully stabilize them them then he would just open a portal into the GZ and they could cross over with all their things also transferring into the GZ for their new haunt.

Unfortunately this looked rather worrying to an outsider,

Imagine you're used to your neighbor being very outgoing so you and others see them a lot suddenly this man seems to appear in their life out of nowhere an at exactly one week, your neighbor and all their belongings in their home disappear no trace to be found.

You tell people and they begin saying the same story they knew someone and them a man with black hair and blue eyes appeared in their life, then they and all their things disappear in exactly one week.

Of course the police in Gotham do the bare minimum so they're no help.

But it starts to begin a trend, especially online.

"Oh careful or the blue eyed man will make you disappear in a week"

This of course after time catches the bats attention, Gordon had already given them all the information he had.

"Young adult early twenties, dark hair, blue eyes"

That was it.

The bats look into it and from their point of view Danny is a serial killer.

But they can't find the connection between all of his victims, they range from young children and the elderly from different backgrounds absolutely no connection,

Worrying enough he doesn't just make one person disappear he has taken entire families up to over a dozen, without anyone figuring out how he's doing it or why at all.

The disturbing thing also being that he seems to take everything in their home, leaving it like it has always been empty

Like no one had been living in it.

People have tried to take photos of Danny get some kind of evidence of his existence, but when they try to do it, it either comes out completely corrupted or their devise simply shuts down fully.

Danny of course has no clue what is happening he's just happy that he's able to help so many ghosts, and is trying not to fail his exams.

~

Danny leaving the house he just helped: "That went easier than I expected!"

Neighbor peeking from the window: "Shit it's that guy! "

~

Red Hood marching down into the cave: " The fucker took many from my territory without me even realizing it!"

~

Tim: "I'm pretty sure his kill count is nearing the hundreds and he just started like maybe 4 months ago, this is bad."

Barbara: " I think I got a theory, this matches up with the new school year beginning so maybe their not a Gotham native which narrows down my suspect list."

Bruce: "Hn."

Tim: "Yes thank you B for the insightful commentary"

~

Danny trying not to fall asleep while on his way to class: "Strange I keep seeing shadows following me, oh well must be the stress!"

Bats who are pretty sure Danny is the killer: "Has he done anything suspicious yet?"

~

Just an Idea

[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.

[joonie-beanie]

Hat Guy's ASMR Commissions: S Tier | [Scaramouche/Wanderer x Reader]

Summary: Subject: Your Commission For [Guided Masturbation Audio - 30 minute session] In which your asshole best friends order a commission from your favorite ASMR artist, and it's a lot more NSFW than you were expecting. "From this moment on, you’re going to follow my directions. I’d say “if you fail to, you’ll be punished” but we both know you’re probably just another people pleaser who will do whatever I say, as long as you know it will make me happy. But fair warning–I won’t be happy until you’re so fucked out you can’t speak a coherent word.” Content: Smut, Guided Masturbation, Toy Use, Name Calling, Degradation/Humiliation, fem!reader Word Count: 6.5k Note: this is kind of an untraditional smut, so just keep that in mind lol

“Sweetheart…you really need to find some way to relax.”

“I agree. If you don’t release your tension, it’ll do a number on your health.”

You really appreciate Lisa and Yae being so concerned for you, but…

“I know. It’s just…not that easy for me.”

By now, in theory, you should have figured out some better coping mechanisms and ways to destress, but alas.

Taking a book from the return bin, Lisa scans it, and then places it onto the go-back cart.

“Well, have you tried getting off?”

Her suggestion makes you jerk, your head swiveling as you glance around the library to see if anyone nearby has overheard. At your side, Yae giggles.

“Calm down…finals have just ended. No one is in the library anymore—they’re out partying.”

You sigh. 

You suppose she’s right. The only reason you three are here is because Lisa is working the closing shift, and because Yae had insisted that you come along to the library with her to keep Lisa company.

“Traditional porn, a good adult novel, ASMR—all would be good options,” Lisa continues.

“I’m not really into porn right now, and I don’t think I have the bandwidth to focus on a book,” you say, resting your cheek in your palm. “As for ASMR…I’m not a big fan. I’ve really only discovered one creator that I like…”

“Oh?” 

Now that piques their interest. 

“What’s their name?”

“He goes by “Hat Guy” on twitter,” you tell them. “He mostly just…posts audio responses to dumb takes, or makes ASMR mocking other ASMR trends, but his voice is nice, and he has a small fan base…despite him kind of being a little shit.”

“How cute,” Lisa laughs while Yae pulls out her phone.

“Well, then…since it sounds like he doesn’t have any relaxing content, maybe you should just go home and take a nice bath. Did you ever use that bath bomb I got you for your birthday?”

“No,” you mumble sheepishly. At your side, Yae taps your knee.

“Lisa is right. Go home and have a bath. I’ll keep her company until she’s done.”

You raise your eyebrows in surprise.

“Are you sure…? I just got here like half an hour ago and now you want me to go home?”

“I just think some “you” time would be good,” she tells you with a smile. You pout your lips, but ultimately decide that…maybe she’s right.

“Fine, I’ll head home and rest, then.”

“Good girl,” Yae responds, patting your ass when you bend over to grab your backpack. You narrow your eyes at her, but aren’t truly mad.

“Be careful on your walk home~,” Lisa says as you start towards the exit. You wave at them both over your shoulder, and then leave the building.

A few seconds after your departure, Lisa turns to Yae.

“Alright, what did you find that you didn’t want Y/N to know about?”

Yae grins, loving that Lisa has already caught on.

“Look—”

She gets up from her seat and leans over to show Lisa her phone screen.

“I found Hat Guy’s twitter and saw that he’s accepting commissions, and look at one of the options~”

She points to something, and Lisa’s eyes hurriedly scan the text in front of her. 

When she has finished reading, she grins.

“Oh, my…well, that’s certainly tempting.”

“I was thinking maybe we can give it to Y/N as a… “you survived finals! Use this to relax” type present. Since she’s always doing thoughtful things for us when we’re swamped.”

Lisa smiles, putting a thoughtful finger to her lips.

“I agree. She’s brought us so many cups of tea over the last few months. It’s the least we can do.”

“Good,” Yae says with a nod, immediately clicking on the commission link.

“She deserves a little…fun.”

Between the end of the previous semester, and the start of the new one, your University has generously given you a long weekend. 

4 days, to be exact. 

Most of this long weekend you spend doing the chores you’ve put off, and working a few shifts at your job. 

It’s only by some grace that you end up with Sunday off. One final day to try and relax before classes begin tomorrow…

You do your best to make the most of it—mindlessly scrolling tiktok, folding some clothes, debating if you should order food out, and ultimately deciding against it, since you just went grocery shopping…

All in all, it’s a pretty mundane day.

…at least, until the icon for your email app appears at the top of your phone screen, and you swipe down the notification to see the title:

Subject: Your Commission For [Guided Masturbation Audio - 30 minute session]

Immediately, you freeze.

Surely, this is a spam email that’s somehow made it through the cracks. Because you definitely haven’t ordered such a thing.

Yet, despite your doubts at the validity of the email, you still click on it—wanting to read the contents before banishing it to your spam folder.

Dear Recipient,

Attached to this email is an mp3 file available for you to download. This file was requested and paid for by “Fox and Witch”, and is being sent to you directly at their request.

Please do not distribute this anywhere else on social media, as this is my copyrighted content.

If there is any issue with the quality of the file, please let me know.

Have fun.

-Hat Guy

Note:

Toys Needed = Dildo, Clitoral Vibrator or Wand

…you must have knocked your head on something earlier and are currently hallucinating.

Because there is NO WAY there’s an email from HAT GUY in your inbox. And that said email is for…for…

Well, you remember seeing a link on his profile about commissions, but you’d never clicked on it to see more than that. There’s no chance he’s out here telling people how to get off, though, right…?

With a warm face, you scan the email again. And then a third time.

You can only assume “Fox and Witch” are Yae and Lisa. And you did just tell them that you like Hat Guy’s content…

You bite your lip, staring at the mp3 file. 

There’s just no way…

Hesitantly, you click on it.

“Hmph. You must be really desperate if your friends were willing to pay for a half hour of my time. Most people are satisfied with 10-15 minutes, but no…they knew you’d need longer than that.”

Oh…fuck. 

Something in your tummy flips.

That’s him, alright.

You’ve never heard him talk like that before, but it’s definitely him…you could never mistake that haughty, belittling tone.

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, your gaze once again finding the title of the email.

Guided Masturbation.

If you’re not wrong, that means if you hit play, and keep listening, it’ll probably be a lot of Hat Guy telling you what to do…how to touch yourself.

Just thinking about such a thing makes more blood rush to your head—embarrassment blooming in your chest.

Sure, the idea of him bossing you around isn’t exactly unappealing. You’re sure he’d be…less than nice, and maybe even a little sadistic, and perhaps call you a few rude names, but—

You groan and place your phone face down on the table beside you.

“Nope, I can’t—I—”

Standing up from your couch, you trudge into your kitchen.

It’s dinner time—you need to make dinner.

You try to keep your thoughts from straying to your temporarily abandoned phone, and the email that’s sitting in your inbox—but it’s literally impossible.

Still, you manage to cook yourself a meal, and even partake in a little alcoholic drink. (Just because you’re treating yourself, and definitely not because you want to ease your nerves a bit.)

Once you’ve finished eating, you clean all your dishes, and then return to the couch. Your gaze strays to your phone, but you don’t pick it up—instead deciding to grab the TV remote.

You make it approximately 25 minutes into a movie before you can’t take it anymore.

Hitting the pause button, you throw the remote on the couch beside you and then snatch up your phone—alighting from the couch.

You grab your headphones on the way to your bedroom, and pop them into your ears only after you’ve gathered your dildo and vibrator.

Maybe this audio won’t be as hot as you’re assuming, and you’ll end up not wanting to touch yourself, but…better to have everything prepared just in case, right?

Taking a deep breath, you hit play.

The track restarts from the beginning. 

“Hmph. You must be really desperate if your friends were willing to pay for a half hour of my time. Most people are satisfied with 10-15 minutes, but no…they knew you’d need longer than that.”

“I also hear you’re quite the little masochist—but I could have assumed that, considering it’s me that you’re soaking your panties over. Just another slut who wants to be bullied, huh.”

You huff at his words, glaring at your phone screen. 

Did Lisa and Yae tell him your kinks or something?? Those bitches.

“Well, you’re in luck, because from this moment on, you’re going to follow my directions. I’d say “if you fail to, you’ll be punished” but we both know you’re probably just another people pleaser who will do whatever I say, as long as you know it will make me happy.”

Dammit, why is he right—

“But fair warning—I won’t be happy until you’re so fucked out you can’t speak a coherent word.”

With a shaking finger, you pause the audio.

You hate to admit it, but his words—the way he’s speaking to you—is already making you wet. 

You really, truly want him to bully you, and use you like a little toy.

So, guess that means you’re doing this.

Throwing any caution and shame to the wind, you hit the play button again. 

“Now…where to begin? I always like to start with an inspection. Take off your clothes, but leave your panties on. I’m not going to bid your needy pussy any attention just yet.”

You obediently do as he says, stripping yourself of your clothing until you’re left only in your panties.

“It’s unfortunate I’m not there to survey those titties in person, so you’ll just have to feel them up for me. Go ahead and grope yourself. Take a minute and massage your chest…I want to see if you’ll get wet from that alone. Although, you’re probably wet already just from my voice, aren’t you, slut?”

You click your tongue at that last part, (hating that he’s right), but nonetheless bring your hands to your chest. 

You cup your titties, and begin squeezing them—feeling the soft flesh beneath your fingers. 

“Good, keep going—squeeze a little harder now. Ah…I bet your nipples want to be touched, huh? Start teasing them, then—just enough to get them hard. I’ll give you 10 seconds—that should be enough.”

For some reason, the challenge of accomplishing a task within a certain time limit makes your pussy throb, and very quickly, you move your pointer fingers over your nipples—rubbing them lightly, and coaxing them to a peak. 

You’re ashamed to admit it, but they manage to get hard in the 10 second pause he gives you…

“Wow, look at that…what greedy titties you have—responding as I say, eager to be played with. Pinch your nipples and roll them between your fingers. Find the motion that feels best, and do it over and over again, until I tell you to stop.”

Resting your breasts in your palms, you pinch your nipples between your fingers—rolling and tugging them. 

Your eyes flutter shut as you touch yourself, each purposeful little tweak of your nipples causing your spine to twitch, and your pussy to clench.

It’s been too long since you’ve touched yourself like this…

By the time Hat Guy’s voice fills your ears once more, your nipples have started to get sore.

“Okay, stop there. I bet your cunt has started quivering, but I hope you know it’ll still be a while before I give you the chance to cum…unless, you somehow managed to orgasm from playing with just your titties? If that’s the case, congratulations! You’re the most needy and pathetic whore I’ve played with. So pathetic that I’ll give you a pass, and won’t even punish you for cumming without permission.”

The thought of being able to cum from nipple play alone makes you feel even more aroused, much to your chagrin—

“Now, let’s inspect that dirty pussy of yours. Spread your legs, and pull your panties down to your knees. I want you to stare at the crotch of your panties and feel ashamed at the wet spot I know is there.”

Taking a deep breath, you hook your fingers around your panties and tug them down your thighs.

As you spread your feet apart, you end up staring at the crotch of your panties—your lips pressing together when you notice there is, indeed, a very noticeable wet spot.

“Next, bend over. As low as you can go, with your legs still apart. I want to see everything.”

Locking your fingers together, you hesitate for a brief second before you bend over—feeling a strain in your leg muscles as you hit the point where you can’t bend anymore.

In this position, you know that you’re on full display.

“Look at you, presenting yourself to me…you really don’t have any shame, do you? If I were there, I’d be grabbing you and forcing you open wider, but since I’m not, you can do it for me! Grab your ass cheeks with both hands, and spread.”

Breathing a little shakily, you do your best to reach behind you and spread yourself. You feel your asshole clench as you do so, and the involuntary action maddens you, considering Hat Guy’s next words are—

“Such a tight little hole…I bet it’s twitching.” 

“Is it nervous, or hoping for an intrusion? Either way, anal is not the objective of today’s session, so let’s move back to your pussy. Go ahead and spread your folds with your hand. You have permission to bend over with your chest to your bed, if you feel your blood rushing to your head from bending down so low. And if you're not by your bed…where the fuck are you listening to this audio? In your car, or a bathroom stall? Pervert.”

That little quip at the end makes you smile, even as you stand up and move yourself to your bed.

You find it a little endearing how he’s bossing you around, but still managing to be somewhat considerate. You suppose maybe there is more to him than just being a brat on the internet.

Anyway—

Reaching one hand back between your legs, you slide your fingers between the folds of your pussy and spread them—opening yourself up as if he were there to inspect you.

“Now, rub your fingers at your entrance—feel how slick you’ve gotten…honestly, you should feel ashamed. Getting so wet for a no-face internet stranger.”

Sure, your panties were a little wet, but that doesn’t mean—

You move your fingers to your entrance—freezing at the amount of sticky arousal you feel. 

You...honestly can’t remember the last time you’ve gotten this wet.

“Smear the slick around your pussy, and make sure to get your clit. That’s where we’re headed next.”

You do as he says, perhaps a smidge overly excited that you now seem to be entering the main course.

As your fingers ghost over your clit, your pussy shudders.

“Bet you just clenched in excitement, huh?”

How does he fucking know—?!

“I'll be nice and will let you use two fingers. Press the pads of your fingers to your clit, and start making circular motions. Slow. 1…2…3…just like that.”

Breathing deep, you begin rubbing your clit with your fingers—repeating his count in your head, and following his pace. 

With each pass of your fingers, your walls squeeze tighter.

“You probably want to rush, or grind your hips on your fingers…but you shouldn't be acting so desperate just yet, so be a good girl and keep going.”

Huffing, you obey his command,

He goes silent for a few beats, really giving you a minute to continue hopelessly teasing yourself. 

By the time he next speaks, a needy exhale is leaving your lips—heady arousal truly being to pool in your lower tummy.

“Now you can go faster. Rub your clit to the beat of your heart. I assume it's racing, so you should be moving your hand a bit faster than before.”

You haven’t really noticed before now, but your heart is certainly beating much faster than normal…

The steady, yet swift thump of your heart is felt throughout your body the more you focus on it, and you quickly adjust your pace. 

A breathy little sigh leaves your lips—your brows pinching together.

You want to cum. 

“I wonder if you're close already, just from your fingers on your clit…haha. If you are, remember—you don't get to cum until I say so. So if you're close to cumming, edge yourself. Get right to the edge of your orgasm, and then stop. I'll give you 10 seconds after that to collect yourself, but then you have to keep going.”

Oh, fuck…

You suppose you should have realized that edging might be part of the equation, especially during a 30 minute session.

And, unfortunately, the thought of edging yourself for him makes you even hornier—pushing you closer to your first climax—or, well, edge.

“I bet you're probably thinking that 10 seconds isn't very long…that when you start again, you'll still be right at the brink of your orgasm, and will have to keep edging over, and over…hah, well…that's your own fault for being so hopeless.”

“Now, I'll let you set the pace. Find the rhythm and motion against your clit that makes you feel the best…you're going to keep that up for 1 minute—and remember, no cumming.”

Dammit—

By now, your lips are fully parted—quick little breaths fanning in front of your face and warming the sheets of your mattress.

You don’t want to edge, you want to cum, but he won’t let you—

“Also, why don't you go ahead and count aloud? I assume you're in private, so it shouldn't be an issue to let out your voice. And if you're not, well…I guess people will get to hear what a debauched whore you are.”

If this were 10 minutes ago, you’d surely blush and hesitate to follow his command.

But now…now you’re a little closer to being the debauched whore he’s calling you.

“I'll count with you so you don't rush it. 60…59…58…57—”

With headphones in, you hear your own voice in your head—mingling with his. 

His, unwavering, with a hint of mockery. Yours…quiet, and struggling to stay on beat.

You clit throbs beneath your fingers, and there’s a familiar flutter of your walls, despite your pussy currently being empty. 

You’re getting close. 

“I can only imagine how sinful you look right now…oh, right. Where was I? Hmm…let's just pick up from 30.”

Motherfucker—

You let your face drop into your sheets, your thighs tightening and knees shaking.

Fuck, you wanna cum. You know you can’t—know it’s not allowed yet, but—!

“5…4…3…2…1. Stop moving your hand.”

Perfect timing. Right at the edge of an orgasm—you pull your hand away.

You take a second to try and catch your breath while ignoring the unfulfilled ache between your legs.

“Your pussy must be throbbing, huh? Lucky for you, as your benevolent master, I’ll let you stuff it full. Grab your dildo and get on your bed on your knees.”

“Also, I assume you're soaked by now, but if not, and you need additional lubrication, use lube.”

You glance behind you at your dresser, where your bottle of lube sits, but ultimately don’t grab it. 

By now, you’re sure you can do without.

Grabbing your dildo, you climb onto your bed, and obediently get on your knees.

“Now, sit up and position the dildo beneath you. Rub the head between your folds, and then settle it at your entrance.”

You do as he says—a shiver of excitement raking up your spine as the tip of your dildo unexpectedly flicks against your clit while you get it into position.

“I'm going to give you 3 seconds to take it fully inside of you…What? I did say we'll be stuffing you full, and with how needy you clearly are, I figured I'm doing you a favor by letting you take it all in!”

Oh. That’s—

“So, I'll count to three. Oh, and if your dildo is too big, and you're scared to sink down onto it all at once, well…that's your own fault for biting off more than you can chew. But, I'm sure that greedy pussy will take anything it can get.”

It will.

“Ready?”

You take a trembling breath.

“3, 2, 1—!”

In one swift motion, you spread your thighs and sink down onto the dildo.

When the head bumps against the deepest part of you, you can’t help but gasp—the sound positively lewd.

“Ahhh…fuck. You made a cute sound, didn't you? How precious…now you're stuffed to the brim with dick, as you should be.”

Yes, this is exactly how you’re meant to feel…just a little slut who will do anything to cum for him.

Yet, despite his harsh instructions, he seems to pause for a second, giving you a chance to acclimate to the intrusion.

How cute.

“Why don't we start slow…I want you to lift your hips until just the tip of the dildo is inside of you, and then grind back down on it. Up…and down…up—”

To aid in the motion, you place your hands flat on the mattress in front of you, and then begin moving your hips.

Up…and down…

Your walls clench around the dildo, practically begging for more, but the man currently using you as his personal toy clearly isn’t inclined to give you such a thing.

At least, not immediately.

If you had to guess, he makes you continue at this slow, teasing pace for at least 2 minutes—your muscles beginning to strain as you resist going any faster.

Then, his voice fills your ears once again. You nearly sigh with relief.

“I hope your thighs aren't burning yet, because now we're going to pick up the pace. Imagine the gallop of a horse's hooves. I want you to grind on each downbeat. No need to make big motions—just grind on your dildo how you'd grind your pussy on my cock if I was there.”

If he were here, you’d wanna grind on his dick until he’s moaning louder than you are—

“Fuck…”

Fingers curling into the sheets, you find your new rhythm—the sound of your wet pussy beginning to fill the quiet room outside your headphones.

Sweat starts to bead on your brow—the arousal inside of you searing hotter, and your muscles getting tighter.

“I wonder if you can cum from internal stimulation alone…try to find your g-spot if you haven't already. I want you to bully it with your dildo.”

You can practically hear the grin in his words. 

Repositioning yourself, you find the angle that better allows you to rub that sensitive little spot inside you.

Almost immediately, a whine rips from your throat.

“Now…I'm going to issue you a challenge. I'll count down from 60 seconds again. During that 60 seconds, you're free to cum. So try your best, okay, slut?”

Please, you want to cum, but you don’t know if 60 seconds will be enough—

“60…59…58…”

Dammit—

With his challenge invigorating you, you continue messily grinding your hips.

Each pass of your dildo against your g-spot causes your pussy to shiver, and your thighs to shake—your orgasm creeping closer.

“33…32…31…”

A desperate sound slips past your lips, your eyebrows knitting together.

You want to cum.

You want to cum.

You want to cum, but—

You drop down onto your dildo roughly, almost in a pouting manner.

You need more time.

As soon as your climax finally begins to build—your walls clenching down on your dildo—Hat Guy reaches the end of his countdown.

“3…2…1…so…did you cum? Either way, I'm sure your legs are shaking. I wouldn't doubt that your sheets are getting soiled by your arousal, either.”

“Well, whether you came or not, don't worry—there's still more opportunities to orgasm yet to come! That being said, set your dildo to the side, and grab your vibrator instead.”

Exhaling, you manage to lift up your hips, and your dildo slips out of you. 

It flops onto your sheets, glistening with your arousal.

Your pussy mourns the loss.

Setting your dildo to the side, you grab your vibrator instead.

“You can go ahead and lay on your back. I'll give your knees a break…isn't that nice of me? You should say “thank you”.”

You clench your jaw as you roll onto your back, your eyes squinting at the ceiling.

There’s no way he’s serious, right? Counting is one thing, but thanking someone who isn’t here?

“Huh? Did you think that was just a suggestion? Go on.”

You wet your lips with your tongue.

“...thank you.”

There’s a brief second of silence, and then—

“...pfft, hahaha! If you actually did just say it aloud, you're more of an obedient people pleaser than I thought. What a precious little cock-sleeve.”

You want to punch him—

“Anyway, I haven't let you cum from your clit yet. I bet by now it's engorged and begging for attention…go ahead and put your vibrator on your clit. Turn it on low.”

The fact that even just touching your clit causes you to jolt proves that his words are correct.

Hitting the power button, you turn your vibrator on a low setting, and almost instantly—the orgasm that had started to fade away flares back to life.

“Good…I'll let you keep it there for a little while. Actually…I'm gonna go get some water. God knows how upset you'd be if my voice suddenly gave out and I couldn't give you permission to cum—”

You hear the sound of a chair being alighted from, and footsteps padding away from the mic.

“This little motherfucker—,” you pant, your chest heaving. 

You gently rub your vibrator around your clit—hoping that doing so will help you delay the orgasm that’s building—but it’s impossible to avoid.

After another minute, you can’t put it off any longer.

Your body tenses, your pussy tightening, and—

You tear the vibrator away from your clit.

If he were here, you think you’d honestly start to beg him for mercy. Of course, you’re sure he’d say that’s practically your first true edge, and you’re just being a little baby, but still.

You start the countdown from 10 in your head, and once it’s done, put your vibrator back on your clit.

Your entire body jolts as the pleasure that had been denied snaps back to attention.

You’re gonna have to edge again—

“How are you holding out? Did you edge at all—just from the vibrator being on low? At the very least, I bet you're squirming and panting.”

“Now, listen closely. I'm going to make you an offer.”

If his offer involves you cumming, you’ll do whatever it takes.

“I'm going to let you cum with the vibrator still on low—assuming you can. This time I'll be generous and will give you 90 seconds, even. But here's the catch. At the end of this session, you will be cumming. So if your begging cunt blots out any logic in your brain, and you decide to cum now, and then feel it's “too much” later, well. That'll be your own fault. Even if you're overstimulated, you'll be cumming again, so choose wisely.”

“Either way, you need to keep the vibrator on your clit for another 90 seconds. You just need to decide if you're cumming or edging. Get ready. To spice it up, this time I'm not counting aloud—I'll just tell you when to stop. So if you're planning on cumming, try not to waste any time. Because if I say stop and you're right there, I doubt you’ll be very happy. Now, begin.”

Risking an overstimulated orgasm after this is a dangerous game, but—

You press the vibrator harder against your clit. 

You need to cum—you don’t care about anything else right now.

Your free hand grabs at your breast—your toes curling, and your heart racing.

Your back arches off the bed, a symphony of miniscule whines and gasps falling from your lips.

Then, the tension inside of you reaches its limit, and snaps.

Your voice catches in your throat—your body spasming as waves of pleasure rock you.

You keep the vibrator on your clit to draw them out as long as you can, but after a few long beats, Hat Guy’s voice fills your ears once again. 

“Stop—that's time. So…did you cum? I wish I could see the state of you…I bet you're starting to look all fucked out. We're already at the 20 minute mark, after all.”

You can’t believe it’s already been 20 minutes. Yet, at the same time, can’t believe you’re not already closer to the end.

“Now, I did say you'd be cumming again, so why don't you go ahead and put your vibe on high? Let's try and force it out of you.”

It’s fine…it’s totally fine. 

Turning your vibrator on high will be totally fine.

You move the toy back to your clit and push the button until the vibrations are much more intense than before.

Almost immediately, heat rushes through your body—stemming from the still recovering nerve ending on your clit.

You’re over-sensitive. Fuck.

And yet…your pussy still flutters—your muscles tensing once again as another orgasm begins to build.

“Ahh, I bet you're squirming like a pathetic little worm. Is it too much? Do you want to beg me to let you stop?”

“Your toes are curling, aren't they? I wish I could hear you and see you panting like a bitch in heat. Should I throw you a bone? Would that satisfy that sad cunt of yours?”

You are writhing, and panting, and every other filthy thing he’s pegged you as. But—you don’t want to stop. You’re too far in now—your whole body shaking, and your breaths coming quick as the vibrator on your clit overwhelms you.

It’s overwhelming, but you can’t stop chasing that high. You—

“Actually…that's not a bad idea. Stop—now.”

Despite not wanting to, you immediately yank the toy away.

You hear yourself whining, unable to help it.

“Hopefully you didn't cum in the last 30 seconds. If so…whoops~”

You wish you could kick him.

“This final orgasm is going to be our grand finale, so we should really let the sparks fly. And maybe your juices, depending on how hard you cum.”

“Grab your dildo—shove it in.”

You scramble to grab it—your arm darting to the side to recover the dildo you’d discarded a short while ago. 

As soon as you have it, you spread your legs and press the head at your entrance—stuffing it in without any preamble.

A pleasant sigh leaves you as that full feeling returns.

“You're going to fuck yourself with it—however fast or slow, I don't care. And at the same time, turn your vibrator back on high.”

You can tell where this is going, and you honestly think it may kill you, but you follow his instructions nonetheless.

Turning the vibrator on high, you place it back on your clit and then begin fucking yourself with the dildo. 

Almost immediately, involuntary sounds slip out of you—your body writhing against the sheets.

The overwhelming strength of your vibrator on your clit now partnered with the messy rubbing of your dildo between your walls…you’re truly becoming the mess he promised to make you.

“Oh, and just so things don't end too soon, you need to hold out for at least one minute. I'll let you know once you have permission to cum.”

You hardly think it’s fair that he’s saying this now, considering you’ve already started fucking yourself, but even so, you want to listen—want to be a good girl who does what he says, and only cums when permitted.

Holding out for a whole minute when your cunt is already starting to spasm—your clit feeling like it’s on fire—is certainly going to be a challenge, though.

“You know…I bet if this were a live call, I'd be able to hear how wet your pussy is. You're probably gripping onto that dildo so tightly…as if it's a real cock that you're begging to properly breed you.”

If he were here you wonder how he’d fuck you. Certainly hard enough that you’d be able to hear the slap of his balls against your pussy—

“You must be panting, huh? So ready to cum…I wonder if you’d be obedient enough to cum when I say. Why don’t we try? We’re getting close to a minute, after all.”

Oh, fuck. 

You’ve never cum on command before, but you want to for him.

“C’mon, princess, I know you can do it…keep going…get yourself right there—”

Your chest shudders, and tears blot your eyes.

You’re trying. Everything feels so hot. 

The arousal in your tummy swells—tightening up, and searing your insides.

“Cum.”

A sob rips from your chest, and you grind your dildo against your g-spot one final time, before your body obeys, and releases.

With the vibrator on high, this orgasm is much more intense than the last. 

Your breath catches, your spine curving, and your hand releases the dildo in favor of grabbing onto your sheets for dear life.

Despite the clamping of your pussy around the silicone cock, it still manages to slip out of you after a few seconds—flopping onto your mattress, and poking wetly against your ass.

When the pleasure on your clit starts to turn to pain—you finally tear the vibrator away. You turn it off, and weakly discard it onto the bed beside you.

Despite no longer having any toys in or on you, your cunt and clit continue to twitch with aftershocks.

You take a deep breath. 

Hat Guy is still talking in your ears, but your brain is too scrambled to process what he’s saying. So, you just continue to lay there until his words sound more like words again.

“Alright, you must have cum by now. Take a minute to breathe. And when you’re done catching your breath, make sure you get up and go pee, and then get some water. Because I’m not about to be liable for any after-effects of this session.”

Despite being exhausted, you can’t help but quietly laugh.

“Good job making it through. I’m sure we’ll meet again soon…mostly because I’m sure you’ll be opening this file again to get off to, haha.”

“Later~”

The audio ends.

You lay there, staring at the ceiling.

Then, you roll onto your side, slowly get up, and head for the bathroom.

Can’t let Hat Guy be liable for you, after all.

The following morning, you wake up with sore muscles, and a determination to go and beat up Yae Miko and Lisa Minci about their “gift”.

Yeah, maybe you are a little less tense than before, and the stress that had been clinging to you after the end of the previous semester is now gone, but still. They deserve a good scolding.

First, however, you have to go to your 9AM lecture. After that, you’ll have time to run to the library.

Despite the soreness in your thighs, you manage to trek across campus and make it to your class with time to spare. You chose a seat somewhere in the middle, and then set your bag down in the chair beside you.

With nothing to work on yet, considering today’s the first day, you entertain yourself with social media apps on your phone as the lecture hall slowly continues filling up.

When there’s only a minute left before the class is set to start, there’s a tap on your shoulder.

Startled, realizing they’ve probably been trying to get your attention, you immediately take out one of your headphones. Before you can even turn to face them and apologize, they’re talking.

Except…the voice of the person beside you is…eerily familiar. Scratchy, attractive, and perhaps a little annoyed—

“Do you mind moving your bag? There aren’t very many seats left.”

Without saying a word, too stunned to speak, you reach over and move your bag to the floor at your feet. The man grunts, and takes a seat beside you.

As he pulls out his laptop, you finally build up the courage to look at him. 

Dark hair and eyes to match…slim fingers, but veiny hands…a black shirt and oversized jacket—

“Do you need something?”

Oh, fuck—you’ve been openly staring.

Your eyes meet his for the first time, and you open your mouth, but no words come out. The beat of your heart starts to get faster.

He cocks an unimpressed eyebrow at you.

“What? Cat got your tongue?”

This is just too much—there’s no fucking way this is happening—

Unfortunately, before you can finally pull it together and try to redeem yourself, your professor takes the podium at the head of the room.

“Class! Welcome! While it might be a little unconventional to start the semester out on this note, I just want you all to know in advance: this class will heavily rely on cooperation with others. There will be many team projects. In fact—the person you’re sharing a table with will be your project partner for the whole semester!”

…what.

Beside you, the man sighs—clearly unhappy to hear about there being group projects, or you being his partner, or both.

“Great, looks like we’re stuck together.”

“Yep…,” you mumble in response, the first word you’ve managed to speak since his arrival.

He obviously notices, because his lips pull into a teasing little grin, his eyes remaining trained on your still-speaking professor as he whisper—

“Oh, would you look at that? She speaks.”

Your pussy clenches.

Mhmm, yep! 

You’re gonna go jump off a bridge.

[clockwayswrites]

5 Times the JL Learned Batman was Married and the 1 Time They Met the Spouse.

One. Two. Three.

“I am sure that it is clear to everyone that the mission was almost a complete disaster.”

“Almost?” Superman asked with a smidgen of a smile.

Hal thought it was brave and very, very stupid of Superman to ask that while Batman was glaring at all of them like he’d squish them if they were just small enough for him to step. And if it wouldn't get his boots too dirty.

Batman’s glare narrowed to focus on Superman alone. “We’re alive. Barely.”

“Batman—”

“No,” Batman shut down Supes’ argument with a barked word. “No. While you might be unconcerned, not all of us are indestructible, Superman.”

That finally made Superman lose any amusement that he had and he look away from Batman, properly cowled. Hal felt a little sorry for the guy, but also Supes deserved that. Not all of them were naturally bullet proof and Batman didn’t even have any powers (it seemed).

“Everyone write up a report: what went wrong, what little went right, and what we should do differently. We will discuss it next week. Expect there to be more training sessions scheduled soon,” Batman ordered.

And then he turned and left with an overly dramatic flare of his cape.

“What?” Hal asked.

“He’s just… leaving?” Superman asked. He sounded a little lost.

Batman didn’t just leave when there was work to be done.

Diana rested a hand on big blue’s shoulder. “I believe you rather overstepped, my friend.”

Oh he was more hurt than any of them knew.

Hal jogged after the retreating form. “Hey, hey Spooky, wait a sec!”

Batman’s shadowed form almost hunched forward on itself as he stopped but didn’t turn around.

“What?”

“Just…” Some of Hal’s bravado left him now that he was actually having to ask; luckily Hal had bravado in spades. “I wanted to make sure you were too badly hurt. You took some hard hits out there and like you said, not all of us are bullet proof.”

Hal wasn’t sure if Batman would answer. More, Hal wasn’t sure if Batman would answer him of all people. They had found more of an understanding with each other lately: Hal let Batman do the planning and Batman trusted Hal (a little) to break the plan in the field, but they still clashed a lot.

Then Batman let out a weary sounding huff of air. “There is nothing major. Everything will heal, though I could use plenty of ice and a good whiskey.”

Hal let himself chuckle at that. “Man, I feel that. A good whiskey, or lots of bad beer, sounds good. I just wanted to make sure. You’re rushing out of here like there’s a fire on your ass. Would hate for you to be bleeding out or something.”

Another long pause that Hal tried not to fidget through.

“It’s late. I would like to get home to enjoy my anniversary while there is still any of it left.”

“Your— oh, shit, yeah man, get out of here!” Hal said, waving Batman away.

What the hell, Hal wondered as he watched Batman sweep away for a second time, Spooky was married?

[jellybonbons]

Sweet Tooth or Sweet Cravings?

Kenji Sato x fem!reader

Summary: When a chocolate company sent Ken a PR package, he ate the chocolates without thoroughly inspecting them, and, well...things took an unexpected turn.

CW: 18+ (mdni), established relationship, aphrodisiac chocolates, implied panty sniffing, masturbation, fingering, squirting, creampie, unprotected sex, pet names.

Words: 1.5k

AN: this is just an excuse for me to write him like he's in heat :3

Today 4:12 PM

Ken <3: can you come home? its an emergency

The moment you saw his text, your heart skipped a beat. Without a second thought, you clocked out early and made a beeline for the parking lot. You had never driven so fast in your life, and you were sure you almost broke the gas pedal from how hard your heels were pressing on it. 

The city streets blurred past you, your mind racing with worry and a thousand scenarios of what could have gone wrong. You barely noticed the honking horns or the changing traffic lights, and your focus was solely on getting to Ken as quickly as possible.

As you reached Ken's home, you punched in the code with shaking fingers, and the door swung open almost instantly. You dropped your bag near the entrance, not caring where it landed, and stumbled inside, quickly sliding off your heels as you hurried to find him.

Rounding the corner into the living room, you saw Ken from behind, his broad shoulders rising and falling with each laboured breath. "Ken, are you ok–" The sight caught you off guard. There he was, panting heavily, glistening with sweat, eyes half-closed as he stroked his cock. It stood proudly and flushed in a deep red colour. His other hand clutched your panty from this morning.

“Sweetheart, I’m sorry you have to–fuck,” the moment he saw you, his body tensed, and with a guttural moan, he finally came, his cum coating his hand and abdomen.

As he sprawled against the couch, you took a moment to look around the living room. Your eyes landed on a box of half-eaten chocolates on the coffee table. Curiosity piqued, you picked up the box and examined it closely. The label read "Aphrodisiac Chocolates" in a small, elegant script. Realisation dawned on you, and you couldn't help but let out a small, incredulous laugh. Ken had unknowingly consumed aphrodisiacs, and now the situation made a lot more sense.

You sat down next to him on the couch, eyes wide with concern. "Ken, what the hell? Are you okay?"

"I—I’m really sorry. I didn’t expect this... I think I overdid it with those chocolates."

"Those weren’t just chocolates, were they?"

"No, they were aphrodisiac chocolates. I didn’t check the label...clearly, I should have," he growled, frustration evident in his voice as he discarded your panty from his hand.

"Yeah, I can see that. It’s obvious they did more than just satisfy a sweet tooth," you smirked, leaning closer, your breath teasing against his ear.

"You’re not helping, you know." His eyes narrowed at you, a mix of frustration and desire burning within them.

Before you could respond, Ken, overwhelmed by the effects and your teasing, pulled you down onto him. He ground his hard-on between your thighs, his breath coming out in ragged bursts as he tried to find some relief.

"Ken, what—" You gasped, your voice filled with surprise.

"I need you. Right now. Please, help me." His voice was husky and urgent, his need unmistakable.

–

You lost track of time, the sky outside turning dark as the house became dimly lit. Your clothes were strewn everywhere, and he had taken you on every possible surface – from the coffee table to the expansive living room window overlooking the ocean, and now on his bed. 

He didn't hesitate for a moment, his desire insatiable. Somehow, he even managed to feed you the aphrodisiac chocolates during heated kisses, deepening the intensity of your connection with each touch and taste that seemed impossible to quench.

"Baby," you moaned, your voice trembling with need. He had your hands pinned against the headboard, his grip firm and unyielding. His chest pressed against your back, warm and solid, as his fingers delved into your wet cunt, moving with a relentless rhythm that left you breathless.

The squelching sound filled the room, adding to the erotic symphony that drove him even harder. Your back arched with every expert stroke, each thrust of his fingers hitting the perfect spot over and over, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

“Ken, wait!” you gasped, feeling a strange pressure building within you. “I feel like I’m gonna pee.”

He didn’t falter for a second, his fingers maintaining their relentless rhythm. “Just let go, princess,” he murmured, his voice a mix of encouragement and command. “The sheets are already dirty anyway.”

His words and the relentless thrusting of his fingers broke down your resistance. With a cry of both pleasure and relief, you let go, your body trembling as you squirted, the sensation overwhelming. Ken’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction as he continued to work you through it, his fingers drenched in your release.

“Atta girl,” he murmured, his voice low and approving. “Just like that.”

As Ken finally released your hands, you let them slide down, resting them beside you—the dampness of the wet sheets clinging uncomfortably to your skin, causing you to grimace. You took a few deep breaths, trying to calm the rapid pace of your breathing, and allowed yourself a moment to regain composure.

Ken, still insatiable and eager, looked at you with a determined glint in his eyes. “It’s my turn now,” he said, his voice rough with need. You, sore and spent, protested weakly, “Baby, I’m so beat... I don’t know if I can handle much more.”

He silenced your concerns with a reassuring smile and a quick, decisive movement. “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything,” he said, his tone filled with confidence. With a firm grip, he lifted you effortlessly and positioned you on his lap, your legs spread and held against your chest. He manoeuvred you into a perfect angle and guided his hard cock to your still-sensitive cunt.

“Fuck, Ken, too deep!” you cried out, your voice trembling as you struggled to adjust to the overwhelming sensation. Saliva dribbled from your lips, a testament to the intense pleasure and exhaustion.

Ken's voice was a low, teasing murmur against your ear. “But you love it when I go deep like this,” he cooed, his tone dripping with mockery. He squeezed you closer, his grip firm and possessive, restricting your movements and trapping you in place. 

The way he moved, controlling every motion and maximising your pleasure, made you feel like nothing more than his personal plaything, his fleshlight. Each powerful thrust sent your breasts bouncing. Your head leaned back against him, the sensation overwhelming as his movements were both demanding and dominant, ensuring you felt every inch of him, leaving you breathless and helpless under his command.

Finally, with a guttural groan that reverberated through the room, Ken’s body tensed, and a shudder ran through him as he reached his peak. His hot cum spilling deeply inside you, a wave of warmth that filled you completely.

He collapsed against you, his breath coming in deep, shuddering gasps as he buried his face in your hair, staying fully inside you. As he caught his breath, he managed to joke through his ragged breaths, “I think I’ll have to give that chocolate company a review —'5 stars for effectiveness!'”

You weakly slapped his arms, a small, affectionate smile tugging at your lips despite the fatigue. “You’re impossible,” you murmured, barely able to muster the energy to respond.

He then gently shifted his position, moving his hand to cup your chin and guide your face towards his. His eyes, soft and tender, met yours as he leaned in to press a gentle, affectionate kiss to your lips. 

Pulling back slightly, he whispered with a teasing smile, “But you love me.” 

“Unfortunately.” You responded with a playful sigh.

–

You were scrolling through your phone during lunch, your thoughts drifting as you ate, when a familiar company caught your eye. You paused, intrigued by a screenshot of a review with the username Notkensato07. The review was under a popular chocolate company, and as you read the lines, you couldn’t help but groan.

Notkensato07: ★★★★★

"Absolutely incredible! I tried the aphrodisiac chocolates and they were so effective, my girlfriend’s still recovering. If you want a taste of heaven—and maybe a little bit of chaos—this is your go-to. 5 stars, but if I could give it more, I would!

⤷ 241 replies

g0urmetguru: More than 5, huh? That’s some serious praise. I’m curious, how long did the effects last? Asking for a friend 😉

sillysocks76: IS THIS KEN SATO?

ChefRemyDaRat: Wow, talk about a rave review! If it’s that good, I’m buying a box for sure 🔥

chocolateroses: LMAOOO! I hope your girlfriend’s recovery is going well, man!

SweetToothSteve: Wow, this sounds wild! I’ve heard aphrodisiac chocolates are hit-or-miss, but this sounds like a game-changer. Guess I’ll be adding these to my shopping list!

jellybonbons: Nah, that’s cap.

  ⤷ chikinuggie: You’re just salty because you got no hoes.

   ⤷jellybonbons:  (comment removed for harassment) 

     ⤷jellybonbons: Wtf? why is my comment removed n not chikin for bullying?!

      ⤷ chikinuggie: The truth hurts, doesn’t it?

        ⤷ SweetToothSteve: Alright, kids, play nice! 😂

–

Shocked by the boldness of his review, you yelled out his name in disbelief, “SATO!”

Ken, who had been skipping around the living room as part of his exercise routine, froze mid-skip. The sudden outburst made him lose his rhythm, causing him to trip over his own feet. 

“Oh shit!”

Dividers by: @/chilumitos

[lady-djarin]

on my radar

joel miller x f!reader (one shot)

warnings/tags: edited very little so sorry! dual pov, jackson era dark!joel, SMUT (oral fem receiving, p in v), stalker behavior from mr miller, age gap (50s/20s), joel is kind of a creep but reader is kinda into it, murder off screen, cannon typical violence, men harassing women (a guy is gross with reader/unwanted touching etc) NO R*PE, possessive talk and nicknames (mine, love, my girl, good girl etc), reader can be lifted by mr big man joel but otherwise no really specific details about readers body other than the usual fem. 18+ minors be gone!,

word count: 5.8k

* ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

YOU

You almost dropped it twice, your gloved fingers slipped around the smooth metal of the gun as you fumbled to pull the trigger. The clicker was quickly stumbling toward you even on its one and a half limbs. You and your patrol partner got separated when a small swarm of the dead caught you both off guard in a densely wooded area . As you were trapped in a corner of a hunting shed by the crawling thing, you felt your heart rate begin to rise and the feeling of dread set in that this might be your last moment.

You saw the blood hit your gloves before you even heard the blade hack into its head. Then the body hit the floor.

You looked up to find your patrol partner standing there with a machete clutched in his hand. He was looming over you with a look very close to anger creasing his brows and his chest heaving in exhaustion. He grabbed the gun out of your hand and grabbed your arm to pull you away from the writhing body. He hacked the large blade into the neck to fully decapitate the head then stabbed into the ear to finally kill it.

“Do you even know how to use this thing?” His voice had an edge to it, like he was mad, or scared as he held up the gun in your face.

You looked at him with tears brimming your lash line, the cold was seeming to freeze them before they tried to fall down your cheek. “Yeah, pretty much.”

“Have you ever been on patrol?” His eyes narrowed as they scanned your face, then your body.

“No.” Your mouth was so dry.

“Who sent you on patrol!? What the hell…,” he grumbled as he turned away. “I asked you a question.” He shot another nasty glare your way when you didn’t answer.

His statement kind of shocked you, not a lot of people are blunt like that.

“Uhm, I asked Tommy, I wanted to help.”

“Fucking Tommy, sticking me with a kid.”

“Hey I might be new to this but I'm not a kid,” you chased after him and that didn't help your defense.

“Jesus…,” he was grumbling again and marching away, toward where you hid the horses. The two of you set out on patrol a couple hours before, your first time outside the gates in Jackson. You had heard rumors about Joel, people said he was ‘rough around the edges but good people’. You had seen him around the community and wondered if he was someone you could get along with. He seemed like he was an outsider, kind of like you. When you learned you were partnered with him you figured it was going to be difficult, but this was a little much.

You were on your way through the state trying to get to where your dad lived in Sundance when you ran into some trouble near their camp and they took you in until you recovered. They stitched you up after they found a nasty gash on your ribs when you were discovered fighting off a pack of stalkers. After arriving at the Jackson community, you learned that Sundance was completely overrun. The sparse community there hunkered down in their homes after the outbreak but with the large swarms that came through the area, pretty much everyone fled and went their own ways. You could barely stand the thought that your dad was caught in the middle but he was strong, he could find his way out.

He had to.

So you remained in Jackson, becoming a part of the community, and everyone in the community had to help out somehow. You felt indebted to Tommy and the community for helping you and making you feel at home here after your recovery. That's why you wanted to go on patrol, you felt like you could help. Joel clearly didn't agree.

That last fucking thing he wanted to do was teach some rookie how to handle themselves on patrol. He was pissed and you could see it in the tense bunching of his shoulders as he rode on in front of you. You felt kind of bad for having Joel take care of you back there but he didn't have to be such an ass about it.

“Hey,” you rode up next to him. “Look I know I'm not who you wanted to be on patrol with but just give me a chance ok? I'm just trying to do a job here.”

He barely looked your way, he just kind of grunted before urging his horse over the final path into Jackson.

Alright then.

You didn't see those broad hunching shoulders for a couple days after, though he clearly had been talking about you. Tommy took you off patrol so Joel obviously made his concerns clear to his brother. When you did see him it was from across a room or passing in the street, but even in brief passes it felt like a tension was always present. His brows would bunch in the middle as he scanned you. It always felt like a judgment maybe, or some kind of disgust the way he would observe you. You quite honestly thought he hated you.

JOEL

You looked cute when you were mad, actually to Joel you always looked cute. Your cheeks were pink with the morning cold, your breath steamed in the air as you huffed through your nose. You were mad because he was ignoring you, and he was ignoring you because he was scared shitless when he came into that hunting hide and found you cornered by one of the dead. It scared the living shit out of him to think about how you were almost torn apart.

He doesn't remember the exact day that he started to care a little too much about you, it was a slow thing. It took over his life, watching you as you became integrated into the fabric of the town. The people of Jackson welcomed you and you welcomed them right back. People loved you and you got along with pretty much everyone. He started to notice you when he saw you and Ellie chatting about something girl related in the mess hall. He noticed how you seemed to genuinely invested in your conversation with Ellie, hanging on to her every word. Next thing he knows he's thinking about you every waking hour, and you haunt most of his dreams. It feels like you are a presence in his chest that he can't carve out and he has tried.

Joel had tried to occupy himself by relieving the tension himself, trying to dissolve the desire he had for you. It didn't work, of course, but he couldn't help himself.

He refused to actually make any kind of relationship with you, he felt like it would look inappropriate. He was a grumpy gray haired man and you were young and bright, he felt like he would be too rough for you anyway. He was a broken man, his hands were dirty with death and guilt and blood. He could see the innocence in your eyes, the way you smiled with your whole heart when talking to people, especially someone he cares for.

Maybe those were the moments he truly started to have real feelings for you, seeing the way you cared for Ellie. Everytime he would see you it made his heart skip a beat, it almost confused him at first, like his heart was waking up from a decades long nap. His chest hurt with how intensely he was starting to ache without you near, it only ever stopped when he saw you or felt you close or smelled your shampoo as you walked by. It was the same as everyone else as there was a lady in Jackson who made everyone soap but still when it lingered after you it smelled like heaven to Joel.

All that to say, Joel still felt like it was wrong to pursue you. You were and always will be the one that got away.

He needed to stay away.

YOU

It had been a couple weeks or so, maybe longer since you saw those grumpy brown eyes. You had started to miss him, as painful as it was to admit. Even though he was barely a colleague, definitely not a friend, you were missing the way… he was mean to you? No, that can’t be right. Why would you miss a man that is anything but nice around you?

Tommy had found you another job working at the local watering hole/dining hall, as the patrol thing clearly wasn’t going to work. He was walking you around the hall, introducing you to the people you would be working with when you heard a familiar voice.

“Hey Tommy, you here?”

“Yea Joel, in here.”

Shit.

“Oh hey Joel…” You wanted to keel over and die.

”H-hey.” He seemed… odd.

They chatted about something security related and you were introduced to the hall supervisor. As you talked on one end of the room, Joel and Tommy were on the other and it felt like neither of you could look away from the other. Your eyes kept finding each other, each time it felt longer and longer, like the world was falling away. It felt much different than the last time you spoke, like he might not actually hate you. It was an odd feeling, having his eyes on you, he was almost predatory.

Even as he looked over what felt like every couple seconds, he still had this pinched, angry look on his face.

But it was hard to look away. Joel was mesmerizing but you knew deep down he could never be interested the way you would want him to be. He was a grumpy older man that wanted nothing to do with the new young girl in town.

You didn’t see him for a while after that.

JOEL

Joel Miller was by no means a good man. A good man wouldn’t be watching you like this, following an unsuspecting woman around town. A good man wouldn’t watch you as you walked around the Jackson streets, minding your business, talking to your new found friends.

Ever since seeing you again at the dining hall he couldn’t rid his mind of you, as hard as he tried. He knew he would ruin you if you let him, if he even got one taste he would be addicted. Not like he wasn’t now, leering at you talking to patrons at your job. He felt dirty in a way, like he wasn’t allowed to look, not allowed to have the urge to bash in the head of any man who looks at you wrong. Like the guy you were helping now, Mike, every time you turned away to get him what he asked for, he could see his slimy gaze caressing your curves.

He felt like he was going crazy, not being able to be near you like he truly wants. He wasn’t sleeping well, barely eating enough to keep him upright and almost missed patrol on more than one occasion. His mind was playing tricks on him, he would find you in dreams, wake up to find you cooking breakfast in his kitchen or walking hand in hand down the streets of Jackson. The cruel reality that he would never have that always hit him hard in the morning when the sunlight came streaming over his bedspread.

He often found himself turning over, searching for you.

Sometimes they were nightmares, visions of you being attacked by the dead or one of Jackson’s very own.

That’s why he was here, making sure you were safe from the dangers of this world. It was his job.

He was there until you got off work, gathering your belongings and heading out the door when Mike popped around the corner. Joel was immediately on high alert, watching the man’s every move as he advanced on an unsuspecting you. He stalked after the two of you, staying just out of sight. His blood boiled when he saw Mike call after you.

She’s mine, he thought.

He stayed across the street, just in case things went sideways. In case he put his hands on what didn’t belong to him.

“Hey! Saw ya leaving work, how was your night?” Ok, nice enough but Joel knew he was clearly waiting for you to leave work.

“It was ok, just tired and ready to go home.” You were being polite but clearly trying to convey that you were going home, alone. That’s my girl.

“I’d like to talk to ya though, ya know i’ve seen ya ‘round and think you’re real cute. Come on, please? One chance?” He’s persistent, that's for sure. Walking the line there, Mike.

“That’s sweet but I’m not really looking for anyone right now, I just got here a few months ago…” You kept walking and you kept your eye contact away from him, smart girl.

“If you give me a chance I’ll show ya I’m worth it. I promise baby.” You were not his baby.

“I’m not your baby, Mike. Please, I just want to go home.” You turned towards him now with determination in your tired eyes.

Mike clearly wasn’t hearing you, or just not caring because as you tried to turn away he grabbed your arm and pinned your back against a wall.

He’s dead.

YOU

I’m dead. This stupid asshole is going to kill me. Your mind was racing as you looked for ways out. Mike’s front was almost completely pushed against yours now as he trapped you against the brick wall. You could now smell the alcohol on his breath now that he was on top of you. You tried to break free, maybe he was drunk enough where you could shake him off. You could tell that wasn’t the case when he groaned in delight.

“Mhmm, keep doing that baby. I like feeling ya move that pretty body.” You wanted to puke, his greasy beard and sour breath was assaulting your space. You froze your body in an attempt to get him off you but he leaned in, trying to capture your lips. You whipped your head to the side and squeezed your eyes shut trying to block out whatever he might do next. Only, when you expected his lips or something on you, there was nothing. His entire weight was gone and you almost slumped to the floor in relief. When you opened your eyes, there was nothing, no one in sight, not even a sound. Mike was nowhere to be seen, nor was anyone else. If you weren’t so relieved that the creep was gone, you’d be freaked out. It felt like one of those eerie horror movies you watched before the word turned into one itself.

You weren’t really sure what else to do other than go home. You walked the quiet streets towards your small house and barricaded your door that night, just to be safe.

…..

“Have you heard?! I can’t believe it!” Angela’s voice shook you out of your tired daze. No matter how you tried to occupy your mind or sleep last night you couldn’t shake what Mike did to you. “It was Mike! That’s who it was that was found behind the dinner hall.”

Mike? Did you hear her right?

“Wait, Mike, like creepy Mike?”

“Yes!” Angela never learned how to not raise her voice.

Mike was dead. He was dead behind where you worked after he assaulted you. That seemed… convenient. Did that make you a bad person?

“They are calling everyone to the town hall for an announcement.” This was the only time they have done this in the short time you’ve been here.

Everyone walked over and filled the hall wall to wall. Tommy, Maria and a few other members in charge of running Jackson stood on the stage of the building that looked to once be a school auditorium, including Joel. Your eyes caught him up there as soon as you walked in, recognizing his brown curls anywhere. Tommy walked up to the top of the stage and everyone immediately quieted down, they clearly respected him.

“Hey ya’ll… Uh, unfortunately it's not good news that calls us together today.” He was clearly nervous. “One of our own is gone, Mike Walton. Now I know in this world losing someone happens more often than we would expect but this one is different. It happened in our walls and we think, committed by one of our own.”

Murder. He was killed. Fuck.

The crowd was starting to murmur and quietly panic. You felt responsible somehow, like you being the last one to see him, you think, meant… something. You had to tell them what happened last night, if only to make sure they know now instead of finding out some other way. So they know you're not hiding anything.

You stayed after the crowd cleared, listened to Tommy assure everyone that they are safe and he is putting security measures in place. You went up to the stage and caught Maria’s attention, you felt comfortable with her and maybe she would be more understanding. She really helped you assimilate when you recovered and felt kind of like a sister in a way.

“Hey sweetie, how ya doing?”

“I need… I need to tell you something.”

She took you to a more private area and you told her what happened the night before. She listened dutifully as you recounted your story and it really made it strangely better to talk about it. It was by no means easy to forget but knowing someone was listening helped. After you finished and she gave you a reassuring hug, she brought you back to Tommy… and Joel.

“Ok hon, I will need to tell Tommy about this, I’ll only include the necessary things.” You nodded knowing you could trust both of them with the news. “Joel, would you be able to walk her home? I don’t want to take any chances here.” Maria did say to you privately that she was going to treat this as if you were in danger in some way, in case this turned out to be about you.

He only nodded in your direction, extending his arm, signaling you to lead the way. You walked the streets, the silent tall man trailing behind you. You stopped so abruptly that Joel backed up in surprise.

“I don’t need you walking behind me like a bodyguard.”

“Where should I walk?” His voice dripped with something dark.

“W-well…I don’t know, next to me like a normal person?”

All he does is silently walk up to you and nod forward urging you on. You kept walking, feeling Joel’s arm brush up against yours and the tension was building before either of you said anything. You arrived at your building in silence and he walked you up the steps, more than you were expecting from the distant man. You paused as you opened the door and realized something, if Maria is right and someone is after you, they could be in your house.

“Y’ok?” His voice was low and rough.

“Uh… actually, no. Joel, would you be able to come in… and uh, check it out? Just to make sure, I don’t know…someone’s not— not in there?”

You swore his eyes softened at your nervous request, maybe he felt bad. He followed you inside and had you wait by the door as he surveyed the rest of the house. He came back within only a few minutes and you were relieved it was quiet in the house.

“You’re all good here darlin’,” he stood by the kitchen counter almost like he was avoiding leaving.

But you didn’t want him to leave.

JOEL

He knew no one would be in your house, there was no one after you. Except him. He saw Mike put his hands and other parts on you and something flipped in his brain. He went feral and had been looking for an opportunity to take this guy out. He was a menace to the community but Tommy said there was no legitimate reason. Usually he wanted a blatant offense to take action or even exile someone. Mike was sneaky, that was the problem, he was good at hiding his deplorable behavior towards women behind being friendly with most of the male Jackson population.

Joel was so sick of it, and he likes to pretend that’s why he was there that night, not that he couldn’t keep his eyes off you. For weeks now he had been everywhere you were, coincidence of course. He needed to make sure that you were safe, that someone would be there for you. Even if he couldn’t have you, he needed to watch over you. You had completely consumed his life, every waking and sleeping hour he had his mind on you.

The worst of it he thinks was a few weeks into his obsession, he found himself across the street from your house, crouched in the bushes like a maniac. He watched your silhouette as you turned about the room, picking things up, gathering our belongings and just generally going about your home life. It was so magical to him to see you living your life unencumbered by the burden of how cruel people can be. He had to make sure no one took that from you.

He was pulled from his thoughts by your sweet voice. “Joel? You ok?”

“Y-ya sorry, what did you say?”

“I asked if you wanted a drink.”

“Oh, uh- sure sweetheart.”

He watched you go over to a cabinet and pull out a dwindling bottle of something dark that made his mouth water. You had good taste.

That's my girl.

You slid over the glass with a small amount of whiskey and you each sipped it slowly.

“Thanks for walking me home, I really appreciate it.”

“No problem darlin’, but I'm sure you’re safe. No one’s gonna hurt ya.”

“Sure doesn’t feel that way.”

YOU

“I promise you, no one will ever…ever hurt you again.” The way Joel said it, it was like he had murder in his eyes. He was so intense that you believed him, like he would protect you. You felt a thrill pass down your spine from his gruff voice. He was always a rugged man with his height, his broad shoulders and intimidating dark eyes but now, he looked downright deadly.

For a minute you worried that Joel could be responsible— no he would never. Even if he did, could you really be upset at him making this community safer? Did that make you a bad person?

He was looking at you like prey he wanted to devour. It made your pulse race, it made your core throb. The tension had been growing since the walk back and it was evident to both of you. Joel circled the kitchen counter to come right in front of you. Both your glasses forgotten, he caged you in with his hands on the counter bracketing your hips. Without a word he brought a hand up to cup your cheek, his calloused skin caressed your skin much lighter than you were expecting. The only sound in the house was your heavy breathing as he stared down at you. You couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something off about Joel. Not necessarily bad but just something sharp and scary, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care as he slowly leaned down to hover his lips over yours, asking for more.

Even if Joel was a bad man, fuck it.

You leaned up slightly to meet his lips and all self control went out the window. His hands were all over you in a second, hips pressed into yours as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. Your head spun as he licked into you and nipped at your bottom lip causing a whimper to escape your lungs. It all became very frantic as he lifted you up onto the counter and bit and kissed his way down your neck. You knew there would be evidence of it the next morning and it kind of excited you to know you’d have Joel’s marks on you. His greedy hands were groping and squeezing every inch of you and you couldn’t get enough. With your own shaky hands you tried to unbutton his shirt but Joel stopped you.

“R’ya sure baby girl?” You swore you felt slick dripping down your inner thighs. “Jus’ gotta tell me and I’ll stop, ’k?”

All you could do was nod.

“I need words.”

“Y-yes,” you practically moaned.

“Good girl.” Fuck, his voice. Your hips rolled forward on the counter, trying to gain any friction. Your clit was pulsing with need and both of you were getting impatient. “Thank god, otherwise I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.” He mumbled it almost to himself.

You gasped as he pulled off the counter and led you up the stairs in silence. Any other person would think he was angry but you knew, he was anything but. He led you to your bedroom and it briefly dawned on you that he was leading you there, he knew where your bedroom was. There was always something intense about Joel, you knew that from the start, it's one of the reasons you were drawn to him. But due to recent events you were starting to question just how depraved he might be. You hated to assume anything but you somehow knew deep down that he was the one who… saved you from Mike. That’s what it was, he saved you from being killed, or worse.

Once in your bedroom Joel turned and pushed you against the wall, attaching his lips to your neck.

He hummed deep in his throat, almost a moan. “Mhmm, darlin’ you are so sweet. Y’smell so good.” He was mumbling into your throat, half kissing, half biting. You were each pulling clothes off the other, desperate to feel skin. When Joel had you completely bare for him, you tried to cover yourself, mostly out of habit.

“You… you are perfect baby.” His eyes dark with desire as he pulled your hands up his mouth and kissed your knuckles. “Don’t cover up, I wanna see ya.” He pulled your hands away as he backed you up to the bed and gently pushed you back onto the soft quilt. You stared up at him, taking in his form, he was still in his jeans but bare from the waist up. You admired his graying hair that led below his belt, mouth watering at the bulge underneath. Before you could reach for his belt, he looped his strong arms under your knees and pulled your butt toward the end of the bed. With cracking knees he knelt in front of the bed and his face became level with your dripping core. His eyes were locked on you, his lips almost matching the way you drooled between your legs.

“Joel—,” you were unable to form words, the breath perpetually caught in your throat.

“Shhh, I know hon, I gotcha,” his voice was lower than you ever heard it, something dangerous simmering below the surface.

“Joel, wait—,” he moved up your body at your request. “I just… I’m confused,” you were shaking and out of breath but you needed to ask him. “I thought you didn’t like me… it’s just every time we would see each other you seemed to avoid me at all costs and now…”

“The only reason I was acting like that was because I liked you… too much.” His eyes hovered directly over yours, deep pools of obsidian overtaken with the desire. “I thought I was protecting you, from myself. But I… I,” he almost seemed nervous in a way, but there was still the underlying grumble of anger in his chest.

“What?”

“I see now that I have to protect you from everyone else.” He said it with such a darkness settled over his face, and it took you a minute to register what he was admitting.

He killed Mike. Holy shit.

Your whole body froze and you felt your eyes widen and breath pick up. But you also had this deep feeling in your gut, was that arousal? Were you attracted to this? That dropping feeling in your stomach told you that you were. Jesus, did that make you a bad person? Fuck it.

You grasped your fingers through his hair, pulling him down to you as you attached your lips to his.

JOEL

You were a vision, puffy lips wet from kissing, eyes blown wide as your chest heaved. “You protected me?”

Oh, fuck me.

“Of course baby girl,” he needed you to know this was all for you. He was yours and you were his. “No one will take you from me.”

He worked his way down your body, kissing and nipping his way to your center again. He spread your legs and stared into your dripping folds as he got onto his knees again. You whimpered and moaned his name and he relished the sounds, he loved hearing and seeing you react to his touch. He wanted nothing more than to hear you scream his name.

“I wanna feel ya’ cum on my tongue darlin’,” he loved the way your pussy drooled for him. Joel felt like a man starved, like he was finally seeing water after a year in the desert. He licked a broad stripe up your folds then sealing his lips around your clit and sucking. You screamed and he felt your thighs wrap around his head only spurring him on further. He pulled your legs in front of him and pushed to the mattress, opening you up further for his enjoyment. When he worked two fingers into you, he knew you were close based on your shaking and whimpering.

“I-I’m so close baby,” you sounded so cute, so desperate. “I need— please Joel.”

He wanted you to fall apart, speeding up his movements he knew it wouldn’t be long now. He curled his fingers while lapping at your clit, he felt your walls flutter and tighten around his fingers.

“Cum for me angel.”

You broke. Joel’s fingers were covered in your juices and you screamed his name as you came. He kept up his movements to prolong your pleasure, he reveled in the way your legs shook with overstimulation.

“Oh… my god,” you sighed as Joel crawled his way back up to your face, slotting himself between your legs.

YOU

He entered you slowly. You could feel every vein and edge of him and you were thankful he readied you with his fingers because Joel was not a small man. He started slow, presumably for your benefit, but soon his pace picked up and the crown of his dick was hitting a spot inside of you that made you see stars.

“Fuck— You feel so good,” he puncuate each word with with his hips, each time driving you up the bed. You grabbed onto his shoulders, trying to gain leverage but you were unable to do anything except take his brutal pace. He was past holding himself back now, you swore you felt him in places you never thought possible. You recognized somewhere in the back of your mind that letting the man who… murdered someone for you fuck you into your mattress might be a bad move. Too bad he was too good at it for you to care. You felt the coil of your orgasm tightening in your lower stomach as Joel leaned back, looming over you like a dark angel.

“I want you to touch yourself,” he pulled one of your hands towards your clit. “Cum for me baby.”

You pressed and circled your fingertips into the bundle of nerves, your pleasure just seconds from cresting. Joel must have felt it because he gripped your hips and pulled you into his lap, picking up his pace and punching into your g-spot.

“Oh fuck!— I’m gonna cum baby…plea—,” you couldn’t even get the rest of the word out as your orgasm crashed into you. You think you might have blacked out as your vision went blank for a moment and you think you heard yourself screaming. Joel kept up his pace and rode you through it all.

“Mmm that’s it, that’s my good girl…,” his voice was low and gravely in your ear when he leaned over, pushing almost all his weight on top of you while he chased his high.

“P-please Joel, cum inside m-me,” his harsh movements made it hard to talk, hard to breathe. You didn’t care though, you were desperate to feel him finish inside you.

“Inside you baby? Ngh, tha—that’s my good gi—,” he didn’t finish his sentence either as he almost collapsed on top of you. You wrapped your legs around his hips and held him there as he filled you up. He grunted and groaned in your ear as he came down, he pulled out slowly making sure you were comfortable and kissed his way down your neck and chest. “Stay here baby.” You laid there unable to move and watched his naked form as he found your bathroom with ease and came back with a warm washcloth. As he cleaned you, you recalled his words, ‘my good girl’. His.

“Joel?” He didn’t respond with words, only hummed at you to continue while he cleaned your inner thighs. “Did you mean it? I’m…,” you were hesitant to speak it, what if you were wrong? What if it was something he said in the heat of the moment. You felt the bed dip and he settled beside you, towel discarded.

“Use your words honey, what’s on your mind?” He moved a bit of hair out of your face and waited patiently for you to continue.

“I’m yours? Not just tonight.” You met his gaze with timid eyes.

“Yes, of course. Y’have been since I first saw you.” He kissed you deep, lips prying yours apart. “I protected you, remember? I wasn’t gonna let anyone hurt you, especially not him.”

He looked at you with nothing but truth in his eyes. He really did kill Mike, holy shit. He did it for you. In this world maybe you could rest easier knowing you had someone to protect you like that. Joel may be a scary man, but you had nothing to fear for yourself with him around. You slept that night more soundly than you had in ten years. wrapped in the strong arms of a man who chased your nightmares away.

[armxnh]

i know we just met, but i love you

synopsis: love at first sight with the tokyo revengers men.

characters: manjiro 'mikey' sano, takashi mitsuya, chifuyu matsuno

genre: fluff

warnings: none (i think...?)

masterlist.

manjiro 'mikey' sano

"ken-chinnnn" the leader of the toman whined at his taller friend. draken rolled his eyes in response, "no mikey, drop it."

"come onnnn-" the said man pouted exaggeratedly, "what did i do wrong?"

"nothing." the delinquent replied taking his wallet out of the pocket of his jacket, "you just don't need to eat twenty-five taiyaki."

"sorry to bother you but there are a lot of people who are waiting take their orders so if you could-" daiki, as it was written on his name tag, tried to cut them off from behind the counter.

for the past ten minutes, the two delinquents were arguing about their order. draken wanted to buy mikey five taiyaki, while mikey wanted his friend to buy him twenty-five of them.

draken turned his head to the cashier, "yeah, so five taiyaki and-"

"twenty-five taiyaki." "damn you-"

"hurry up! unlike other people, some of us have important things to do!" a customer yelled from the back of the line.

manjiro snapped his head to the back of the line, narrowing his eyes at the older man who had just yelled at him. "see now you're making people angry, mikey. 'm not gonna spend ¥5,272 on snacks."

"i need to eat a lot if i want to be taller!"

"for the last time. you won't get taller! you are at your maximum height!"

"alright! i'm not going through this again." a soft voice cut both of them before they could start the same argument they had 2 minutes ago. "daiki, i'll pay for their order- just make his goddamn snacks, please."

when manjiro turned to look at the person who 'saved his life', he felt like he has just died and miraculously came back to life as he made eye contact with you.

you were... pretty.

his eyes were set on you, taking in every single detail he could as if he was scared to forget how you look the second he'll look away.

"thank you, but that's not necessary!" draken politely thanked you as you grabbed your fidelity card of the small shop.

"don't worry about it! after all, those fidelity points have to be used for something." you waved him off, looking back at daiki, "could you also add my regular oder with that, please daiki?"

"o-of course, (y/n)!" the young worker quickly tapped your oder in the computer, a red hue covering his cheeks when you smiled at him.

"mikey, what do you say?" draken looked at his friend, hinting him to thank you, but his words fell into deaf ears as mikey kept looking at you like you hung the moon and stars in the sky.

"mikey?" He nudged the said man's shoulder trying to snap him out of his thoughts, only to be ignored once more.

the tall blond dropped the smile as he turned to his friend hitting the side of his head, finally snapping him out of his thoughts, "mikey!"

"um? what?" mikey barely glanced at draken when he responded, his heartbeat increasing when you looked back at him with your receipt in hand.

"i said, what do you say to the girl who just bought you your snacks?" he replied, glancing between the two of you clearly wondering why his friend was acting weird all of the sudden.

"marry me."

ken ryuguji never whipped his head to look at his friend so fast in his life. What the hell did he just said?!

you felt your face warm up at his words, chuckling as you walk past him, placing your hand on his shoulder, "do you ask every girl who buys you snacks to marry you?"

manjiro felt like he was in heaven when you stood closer to him. how can someone be so pretty and be so nice and smell so good and be so pretty at the same time.

"what?" toman's leader came back down to earth when you handed him the box filled of taiyaki. "did i say that out loud?" manjiro mumbled, frowning to himself. before looking back at you, just to see you making your way outside. "hey- wait!"

he tossed the snacks at draken jogging to meet you outside of the shop. "w-wait!"

you turned to look at him, the soft summer breeze sweating through your hair, leaving your face completely out in the open, "yes?"

"you're (y/n), right?" he asked remembering how the cashier called you when you were ordering, "i'm mikey..." he wanted to say something else but the words got caught in his throat when you smiled at him.

"nice to meet you, mikey" you replied before your eyes drifted behind him to the small group of guys that were looking at the two of you intensely, the 'ken-chin' guy from earlier standing with them. "i think your friends are waiting for you"

manjiro glanced back to see his best friends looking at them with knowing looks on their faces, "never mind them- this is- you are more important."

you looked away from him, his intense eye contact making your face feel warm, "you really know how to talk to girls you know?"

"thank you for earlier... the snacks and all..."

"that was 2 months worth of fidelity points- you better eat every single one of those taiyaki" you playfully warned the gang leader.

"don't worry about that..!" mikey replied knowing damn well that he will inhale those snacks. "can i walk you home? it's going to get dark soon- wouldn't want my wife to get attacked or something!"

wife?!

you suppress a smile at his words, "of course, wouldn't want it to get dark at 2 pm, and then get attacked by who knows what next to a bakery."

"exactly! let's go, wifey!"

takashi mitsuya

"what did you say you're brother's name was?" you asked the crying girl in front of you.

"...t- taka-shi" the small girl sobbed in your shoulder as you gently patted her head.

"alright and what's your name?" you gently asked as you scanned the area trying to find someone who looked like they had just lost their child.

"i- i- i'm mana"

"you have a really pretty name, you know?" you smiled fondly at the girl as you whipped the tears of her face with your thumbs.

"really?"

"heck yeah! it's a badass name!" you felt relief wash over you when you saw a smile spread across the kid's face, "i'm (y/n) and i'm gonna help you find your brother alright?"

"thank you..." she mumbled quietly.

"you're going to hop on my shoulders and tell me when you see your brother okay?" the girl looked up at you with stars in her eyes, you pulled mana on your shoulder, her small hands on your head.

you walked for a good 15 minutes before mana tapped your head with on hand while the other pointed toward an unknown man in the crowd of person, "they're there! that's draken!"

draken? wasn't her brother's name takashi? you wondered as you put mana to the ground your hand grabbing hers just in case she got lost again.

"mana!" a little girl's voice called out as you arrived next to the very tall guy with a dragon tattoo on his head. the small girl that looked very similar to mana hugged tightly the younger girl.

"mitsuya! ' found her" the tall guy called out for someone else behind him. the 'mitsuya' guy appeared from behind the 'draken' guy not long after he called out from him. the purple haired teen practically attacked his sister with a hug, sighing in relief.

"don't ever do that again, mana." he gently scaled his younger sister, "you could've gotten lost and we would've been really sad, al-?"

"it's fine! (y/n) helped me find you!" she pointed her finger at her. mitsuya ruffled his sister's hair, before straightening up to thank the person that help his mini-him, "thank you so mu..."

he felt like the world had stopped moving. like it was only the two of them in the middle of the festival. takashi mitsuya was in a trance. he was simply mesmerized by the sight of you.

"it's no problem, really! " you softly smiled at him, "your sister is a real angel-"

anything else you said after wasn't even registered but the delinquent in front of you. he was usually so good at this- talking to people was what he did best so... why couldn't he utter a single word for you.

his cheeks were red, his palm were sweaty, why was he anxious?- he was hanging on everything you did. even if he felt like he had forgotten how to speak, your voice felt like melody to his ears.

he snapped out of his trance when someone nudge his shoulder. mitsuya glanced at draken beside him, suddenly remembering that they weren't alone and that you were talking to him.

you looked at him with a puzzled look, "are you alright?

your question made him overthink about everything that happened in the last 2 minutes of your meeting. Did he look like a creep?

"i- i- great."

the hell was that takashi? he cursed himself.

darken cleared his throat, holding back his laugh. he brought his fist to his mouth faking coughs as he muttered a small, "real smooth, mitsuya".

you chuckled at his friend's comment, making mitsuya straighten up, you pulled out your hand for him to shake.

"let's start over, alright? i'm (y/n)... you're takashi right?"

draken stepped up clearly expecting his friend to be to lost in space to answer you, "he prefers mitsuya-"

"takashi's fine!" the said man interjected, as he quickly grabbed your hand to shake it, sending one of his pretty smile in your direction.

"i-"

"are you going to marry my brother?" he couldn't catch a break could he? luna asked you with big eyes.

you chuckled softly at her words, "how about this... i will give my number to your brother. then we'll go out to eat something to talk about marriage alright?"

"yes!" the girl tightly hugged your leg as you said that.

"does that sound like a plan to you, takashi?" yes!

mitsuya hurriedly started to look in his pocket for a pen, when draken pulled one out of his pocket with a piece of paper and handed it to the purple haired boy, "there you go, casanova"

takashi handed you the paper and the pen, before you wrote your name with your phone number on it.

"see y'a soon, taka! bye, mana don't get lost again alright?"

as soon as you were out of sight takashi turned to draken with a stern look, "not a word about this, alright?"

"you're crazy!" draken crackled putting his hand in his pocket, "i'm going to tell everyone!"

"draken!"

"as your wingman i feel like it's my responsibility-"

"no it is not!"

chifuyu matsuno

"hurry up, chifuyu!" takemichi yelled at his friend. they couldn't be late. not for that.

"how come you are slow as hell during a fight, yet you sprint your life on a sunday at 8 am?" the blond joked as he calmly walked behind takemichi with not a care in the world.

"come on! we're gonna be late!" he repeated hurriedly before stopping abruptly while looking around him.

"late to what?" chifuyu yawned, before looking at his friend, who stood there looking around, up and down as if his brain had finally snapped, "you alright?"

"alright stand here and don't move." takemichi moved the delinquent around so that he would stand in the middle of a park- an empty park.

"did you finally snapped or...?" he asked when the time traveler started to back away from him, "are you going to kill me? is this really how it's gonna end-"

"watch out!"

a voice yelled, but it was too late.

a ball directly hit his face, knocking chifuyu to the dirty ground, his eyes closing due to the shock.

it took him a couple of seconds before finally opening his eyes again, only to realize that he was in heaven. the prettiest girl he had ever seen in his life held his head in her hands, her index and middle finger pressed against the front of his neck just below his jaw- making sure that his heart was still beating.

"oh- thank god! you're not dead!"

"are you an angel?" chifuyu mumbled placing his hand on top of yours- making sure you were real, "am i in heaven?"

you let a breathy chuckle at his words, "you're cute- but no you're not dead... i kicked a ball in your face- unintentionally of course!"

his eyes finally focused on you, remembering what had happened. he blinked a couple of time, his eyes scanning your face- a pretty girl's face... so close to his face with her hands on his face and his hands on her hand-

what?!

chifuyu's face became as red a tomato straitening his posture to apologize for touching you without your authorization, "i'm so sorry-"

his head came in contact with your head, making you pull back immediately from the blond. "ow! i told you i didn't do it on purpose!" you groan holding your head with your hands.

chifuyu gasped in horror at his own clumsiness as he placed a hand on the back of your head. hopping that the coldness of it would help you a little, "i'm sorry! i swear i didn't mean it! please hit me again so that we're even!"

...what? now why would he say that?

"what? what's wrong with you?! do you get turn on by getting hit or something?!"

chifuyu panically looked around to search takemichi so that he could help him. when he finally spotted him, hiding behind the swings, the time traveler was smiling proudly with his two thumbs up in the air.

his action making him recall a conversation the two of them had a couple of weeks earlier.

"so... am i married in the future?" chifuyu asked takemichi as he bit down the sandwich he made himself for lunch.

takemichi raised his brows at the question, "yeah-"

"really?!" the blond gasped, with heart in his eyes, "do i know her?! no wait- that'll ruin the surprise- is she pretty?! no wait- of course she's pretty you idiot!"

the time traveler chuckled at his friend's words, rubbing the back of his neck, "do you want me to tell you how you met?"

"no! it has to be a surprise!" chifuyu refused, "wait am i going to meet her soon? is that why you said that?! takemichi?! answer!"

"nah- like you said it has to be a surprise~"

"takemichi!"

"if it makes you feel better- you embarrassed yourself in front of her"

"how would that make me feel better?!"

that sneaky bastard.

"i'm sorry! i don't know how to talk to pretty girls..." chifuyu mumbled looking to the ground, but his face snapped back at you when he realize what he had just say, your eyes round at his words, "i- i mean not that don't know how to talk you! wait- not that you're not pretty! you are pretty- beautiful even! but that is not the point! i don't need you to hit me! just please don't think i hurt you on purpose- i don't hit pretty girls! no wait- i don't hit girls at all! but you being beautifully-pretty is just a plus you know! an-"

you smacked your hand on his mouth, stopping his rambling, the butterflies in your stomach flying way to much due to his words. "please stop-! you're too cute..."

takemichi titled his head at the scene in front of him, clearly not remembering that part of the story your older self told him in the future about how chifuyu and her had met-

but... mission failed successfully... i guess?

ⓒarmxnh