#something looks off and i can't fix it i'm so sorry

[pars-ley]

Hi! I'm here for the Ateez drabble game!

Can I request Ex-boyfriend Wooyoung with prompt two?

Thank you!

Title: Sexcapades

Pairing: ExBoyfriend!Jung Wooyoung x f.reader

Summary: Running into your ex has a result you weren't expecting.

Genre(s): exes to lovers / smut / secret sex /

Rating: 18+ NSFW (MDNI)

Warnings: explicit language / unprotected sex (wrap it up guys) / creampie / oral (female recieving) / fingering / cum play (slightly) / cum eating / making out / voyeurism (slightly) / closet sex / exhibitionism (slightly)

Word count: 2.2k

Banner: Me

Beta: huge thank you to @potatomountain and @seokgyuu for hyping me and giving me a serious confidence boost with this

Author's notes: thank you to @anyamaris as usual, for letting me brainstorm this one with you

The problem of dating within your friend group, no matter how large, is attending events, and tonight's party is turning into a parody of people you'd rather not see.

Your most recent ex, Seonghwa, has decided to make an appearance, something that had your eyes rolling in your head when you heard, and it's definitely still awkward.

You’d dated for a total of six months and it's only been two weeks since your break-up - completely his choice - but you were determined not to dwell on it.

To make things even more uncomfortable however, you have been informed another ex is also in attendance. Wooyoung. You'd split up with him about a year ago after eighteen months together, he wanted to get more serious and you weren't ready, something you had regretted almost instantly.

Seonghwa acknowledges you with a polite smile and you're thankful that's the extent of your pleasantries, not wanting to deal with him tonight. You're here to escape the recent break-up, not confront it.

One of your close friends and gracious host appears by your side, handing you a colourful drink that smells strong enough to sedate you, “You look like you need this.” she says with a sympathetic smile. Pulling her into a grateful embrace, she gives you a squeeze before she rushes off to someone else.

Smiling and nodding at people you recognise but are not necessarily friends with as your eyes survey the sizeable crowd, but you stop in your tracks the moment you connect eyes with Wooyoung. Smirking in that irresistible way he does, you can't help the way your stomach flips with anticipation as he heads in your direction.

Downing your drink for some Dutch courage, and resisting the urge to wince from the burn, your eyes remain fixed on him. His newly blonde hair under a backwards cap, that is both surprising and tantalising, not to mention the way his trousers hang low on his hips, revealing just a teasing amount of his v-line.

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” Wooyoung says with a smile he can't reign in. He always tries to act so cool and collected, but around you, that's never worked, and your ego gets a boost knowing that's still the case.

“Good to see you, Woo, you look good.” you can't resist telling him, remembering how much he loved to be praised and judging by the way his eyes lit up, clearly he still does.

“So do you.” he replies, and something in his tone sets your nerves alight, your feet rooted to the spot, afraid any movement you make might end this entire exchange before you're ready to.

“Are you here alone, tonight?” you ask, glancing around to check for any watchful lover's eyes that might be on the two of you.

He smiles knowingly at you, a taunting smirk that says he thinks he has the edge above you, “If you’re wondering whether I'm single, the answer is, yes.”

“Subtlety was never my strong suit.” you admit, watching the heat flicker in his eyes, and when he bites his bottom lip, you can't help but feel a pang of regret that you ever ended things with him, realising just how much you'd missed all his quirks and teasing ways.

“I'm, uh, sorry to hear about you and Seonghwa.” he changes the subject, face serious but you can't help the smirk that tugs at one said of your mouth.

“You are definitely not.”

Erupting into a grin he hangs his head momentarily, “yea, I'm really not.”

You can't fight the feeling of glee erupting inside you and making you feel dizzy, flirting with an ex, is this stupid? But this is Wooyoung, the one that got away, nothing is ever off the table with him. How can it be, when you can't resist him?

He leans in and whispers, “So, here I am; single,” he tucks a stray strand of hair away from your face, the movement feeling very intimate in such a public setting, “and here you are; also single.”

Your heart pounds wildly at his proximity, his scent swirling around you, bringing up old memories and making you feel right at home. And the heat that radiates from him makes you remember all of those times you were wrapped around him, the nights he'd coax his name from your lips more than once, and before you can do anything to stop it; you're lost in him.

“You know, suddenly, I'm in the mood for somewhere a little quieter.” you breathe.

He arches an eyebrow in your direction but there's a desperation in his eyes you know too well. “My place?”

His adam's apple bobs as he swallows, waiting for your response and your eyes follow the movement, wanting nothing more than to run your tongue up his neck and leave pretty purple marks on his throat to show he's yours.

“Definitely, let me just grab my jacket from the bedroom.” you respond, afraid if you look away, this would all be apparent as a break in reality, until he says, “I'll come with.”

As you walk through the crowd, into the quiet bedroom, his hands rest lightly on your hips guiding you through, and you waste no time, rummaging in the closet.

The silence of the room seems magnified now that you're alone and you're suddenly aware of his heat at your back. Turning to him, he's merely a hair's width away from you, eyes with a heat so intense it makes your core throb with need.

Grabbing his jumper you pull him to you and his lips crash against yours. You explore each other knowingly, nothing messy or unsure about it, you remember every detail of him but the taste is something your memory had not done justice to.

Running your tongue along his bottom lip, enticing a groan from him that has your sex quivering.

“I need you.” he says against your lips, as your back hits the closet door frame.

He grabs your jaw and kisses you wildly, taking your bottom lip between his teeth. And just as your aching core has arousal pooling in your underwear, the sound of the bedroom door clicking open with accompanying voices halts everything else. Before you can open your mouth to say anything Wooyoung pushes you into the closet, following closely behind as he quietly pulls the door behind him, leaving only a slither of a gap.

“What are y-” you start to whisper but his hand clamping around your mouth smothers any other words you were going to say. He puts a finger up to his lips, silencing you with that sexy smirk again. At the sound of a moan, both your attention is snapped to the bedroom, you try to peek through the gaps in the slacked wooden door of the closet you're cramped into. You can make out two figures moving towards the bed, grappling at each other's clothes and you throw Wooyoung a death glare at the prospect of being trapped in here while two people have sex. But by the twinkle in his eye and sideways smile he gives you, he's got much more planned.

Slowly, he drops to his knees in front of you, fingers hovering over the hem of your knee-length dress, looking up at you with a questioning and heated gaze that has your core clenching around nothing.

Glancing through the small gaps in the door, seeing the two people collapse onto the bed with the sound of kissing filling the air around you, makes the heat you feel for Wooyoung grow even more. Your skin burns, your body aches and your core throbs for him, you couldn't wait, you needed him now. When you nod, he lifts your dress and places it in your hands, he hooks your underwear aside, admiring your sex in the dim light and staring at it like the holy grail. He closes in, the heat from his breath makes your core flutter with anticipation and as soon as his lips connect to you your legs almost collapse. His tongue darts out to your entrance and he sucks your arousal, his eyes rolling back like you're the most exquisite dessert he's ever had. He licks a stripe up to your clit where he flicks the tip against you, making you jolt. Looking down at him with desperation, his playful smile tells you he's not done teasing yet.

Enveloping the sensitive bud in his warm, wet mouth has your nerves alight, pleasure racing through your body like a lightning bolt as he ravishes your sex. The wet sounds seem to echo in the quiet closet but feeling a moan rise that you can't suppress, you slap a hand against your mouth and try to quieten the noise.

He slides a finger into your needy hole, and beckons the sweet spot inside you. The combination of the two has you ready to come undone in no time but before you do, he pulls away.

Swallowing the growl you feel in your throat, you opt for a glare but as he stands, watching you with a wolfish grin and a commanding stare, he turns you around so you're facing the wall. Your palms press against it to support yourself and you feel him drag your underwear down until it falls at your ankles. He eases your legs apart with his knee, and you obey as much as your panties will allow, the sound of his zipper sliding slowly down seems to be magnified, and when you feel the tip of his cock against your entrance, you almost lose it.

Pushing himself into you and stretching you open in that delicious way he always used to, makes you gasp. His hand clamps around your mouth again, as he starts to, agonisingly slow, slide out and then into you, repeating the action and making your toes curl. Leaning in, he whispers, “Do I feel better than Seonghwa?”

Your core clenches, the thought of him being jealous turning you on more than it should and you nod frantically in response.

“No, I want to hear it, tell me I'm better than him, tell me how good I make you feel.” he breathes against your ear, teeth grazing the lobe. Everything inside you tightens, as you teeter on the edge of the precipice of pleasure, you can't trust your voice when you’re holding in a scream.

“Tell me.” he commands quietly.

“Yes,” you squeak, “you're better than him. Fuck.”

Your core unravels around him, as wave upon wave of ecstasy hits you, pulsating through you like an electric current. He whimpers and you feel his warm seed spill into you, your core milking him of his release.

Once the haze of satisfaction has lifted, he slides out of you and replaces his cock with his fingers briefly, before bringing them to your lips and pushing them into your mouth.

“You still like the way I taste?” he asks quietly and you oblige, sucking his digits eagerly, looking back at him and relishing the way he bites his lip. Neither of you were done with each other. Not by a long shot.

The sound of the other couple whispering as they both re-dress snaps both of your attention away. You watch in silence as they leave the room hand in hand, as soon as that door clicks shut behind them, Wooyoung opens the closet door. Fresh air greets you, a welcome change from the heat you both created in there. He pulls up your underwear, putting them neatly back in place and pulls your dress down before zipping his jeans back up.

“So am I?” he asks, pulling you to him, wrapping his arms around your lower back and encasing you in a familiar embrace.

“Are you what?”

He rolls his eyes at you, “better than Seonghwa.”

You can't help but laugh, “Woo!” Slapping his chest playfully, you look up to see a genuine vulnerability in his eyes you aren't used to. “Yes, you're better.” you admit, hoping to ease some of his insecurities. “I missed you.”

“Don't say that, if you don't mean it.” he pleads and your heart pulls. You hurt him when you ended things, you knew that but you never really understood how much, until now. The yearning in his eyes pains you and you want to do anything you can to ease his mind.

Cupping his face, “Woo, I'm so sorry I hurt you, really I am, it was never my intention. I couldn't give you what you wanted then but I'm ready now. Let me be yours, again.”

His eyebrows turn up, his expression pained as his hands press against the flat of your back, keeping you firmly in place against him, “You won't change your mind tomorrow, when you've sobered up?”

Shaking your head you lean up and plant a chaste kiss against his lips, “Woo, I'm not drunk, and thinking clearer than ever.” Forehead to forehead, you ask again, “So, what do you say? Can we try again?”

Leaning back, his eyes search yours, when he finds honesty his answering smile is blinding but his stare fierce as he replies, “You're mine.”

[barneslovley]

Really?

Pairing: congressman!bucky x assistant!reader

WC:700

Warnings: swearing

Summary: You love your job, and possibly your boss. But he won't ever feel the same.. right?

a/n: I really adore this and I hope you do too!

You loved your job. Never dreaded a day where you had to come in. Never called out sick because you just "didn't feel like it". You were there at his office at 8:30 am. Every goddamn morning. James Buchanan Barnes, your boss, and the reason you wake up every morning. Everyone had known of him, "a man misplaced from his time", "The Winter Soldier", "Killer", and now congressman. No one suspected a known ex assassin and murderer to be a congressman, but the moment you heard the position for his assistant was open, you took it. The catch is you'd harbored a "crush" on this man since you were a teenager. Ever since he'd gotten out of HYDRA's hands and he was known. Every little picture you could find of him you cherished like it was gold. And now that he's your boss, you were beyond in love with the man. Even though you knew there was no way in the whole world he could love you back. And you were okay with that.

"Good morning Mr. Barnes, how are you?" you said while handing him his black coffee like every other morning.

"Mornin' what do I have today" He said taking the coffee and looking right at you.

"Um nothing much today. you just have a few meetings and that's it" You said while giving him a smile.

"Good, a nice easy day thank god." he looked at you for a second "You seem happy too. What's going on for you?"

"Oh me? Nothing Mr. Barnes just happy to be here is all" You said quietly as to not draw attention to yourself.

"Oh okay, well I'll be in my office let me know if anything happens okay?" He said while slowly retreating back to his space.

"Right of course, I'll let you know" You sat down at your desk and tried to get to work. You got most of it done, but you couldn't stop thinking about the man just across the hall from you. So you did what you knew how to do best, write your feelings down. And this journal was filled of pure hours of writing about Bucky. It was interactions, and dreams, and just thoughts about him. Something no one knew about or had seen ever. It was your little secret.

So you wrote down how you were feeling, as always. How he looked at you, how he gave you that warm fuzzy feeling inside again. But for some reason you felt so extremely tired, and remembered you couldn't fall asleep for the life you last night. So you laid your head down. Not thinking about it or what you were just doing. And the next thing you know you're being awoken.

"Hey, wake up.'' You hear your boss next to you, and you sit up instantly.

"Oh shit. Mr. Barnes I'm so sorry I didn't get much-"

"Hey, hey no need to apologize I understand, but there is something I wanted to talk to you about" he cut you off. The next thing you know he pulls out your notebook from behind him. It was in his hands, and you knew instantly this was the day you were going to die.

"Oh my, no, no this cannot be happening." You look up at him trying to read his face but his expression is neutral. "Did you... read it?"

"Yes I did, and I'm sorry to tell you this but you're fired"

"Fired? No, you can't. Bucky please I love my job I love working here. I can fix this. please don't fire me." You look at him trying your hardest not to cry.

"I'm not firing you because of what I read because sweetheart I feel the same. I'm firing you because we cant work together if were dating. conflict of interest and all that." He looks at you with a smug look while your brain tries to catch up.

"Wait you feel the same?" you feel like you're in a dream but 'he's walking closer to you.

"Yes baby, I feel the same" as he get closer he leans in.

"Can I kiss you?"

"Really? You want to kiss me?" You say in utter disbelief.

"God yes." So you lean in, and all you've wished for is in your arms.

an: I feel like the ending is a little wonky and rushed so let me know if you want an epilogue or something of the sort! I hope you enjoyed loves MWAH

[theshiniestgemstone]

wild goose chase- jimmy olsen x fem!reader

I really enjoyed writing this one. I love a good prank

"Why do you do that?" Lois asked, bringing her mug to her lips and watching Jimmy take a seat at his cluttered desk. The soft morning light spilled over piles of papers and coffee-stained notebooks, but her eyes stayed fixed on him.

"Do what?" Jimmy glanced up, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he fidgeted with the strap of his camera.

Lois hummed thoughtfully. "Flirt." Her voice was light, but there was an edge beneath it, like she was trying to keep things casual while probing something deeper.

"A man can't flirt?" he retorted, avoiding her gaze as if the truth was too fragile to hold.

"That's not the problem," she said, lowering her mug and folding her hands on the table. "It's that you flirt and flirt. You make people feel something, but then, as soon as they offer up a date, you run off. Why?"

Jimmy sighed, his eyes dropping to the scattered notes on his desk. "Don't like hurting feelings," he muttered, voice low and rough. "It’s easier to keep things light than to deal with the fallout when it gets serious."

Lois’s brow furrowed. "But avoiding it doesn’t make it less painful. It just leaves people wondering why they weren’t enough."

He looked up finally, meeting her gaze with a hint of vulnerability that was usually buried beneath his easy charm. "Maybe I’m scared," he admitted quietly. "Scared of what it means if someone really gets close."

Lois softened, taking a slow sip from her mug. "Bullshit."

"Major bullshit," Jimmy grinned, leaning back in his chair as if daring her to prove him wrong.

Lois set the mug down with a deliberate thud. "You’re good at hiding behind that charm, but I see through it. You’re not scared of closeness, you’re scared of something else."

"Enlighten me, then," Jimmy challenged.

Lois had nothing to say. So instead, she simply turned away to focus on her own desk. "I'm going to figure you out, Olsen."

+++

Over the next few days, Lois found herself watching Jimmy a little more closely than usual. Not in a stalkerish way, but more like a journalist on a story that kept unfolding right in front of her. She noticed the way he leaned casually against the mailroom doorway, his smile a perfect mix of charm and mischief as he bantered with the cluster of young women sorting through envelopes and packages.

Jimmy had the kind of energy that pulled people in effortlessly, but Lois could see the pattern. When one of the mailroom girls hesitated, the warmth in his eyes faltered. She watched him say something clever that made one of them laugh a little too hard, then suddenly excuse himself with an exaggerated stretch or a quick glance at his watch. One afternoon, Lois lingered near the break room, pretending to be absorbed in her notes as Jimmy approached a petite brunette named Kara. He flashed that grin, leaned in a bit, and started talking, low and easy. Lois caught Kara’s flushed cheeks and bright eyes. But when Kara blurted out, “So, maybe dinner sometime?” Jimmy’s smile flickered, then he gave a quick shake of his head.

“Can’t, sorry. Got a ton of work to catch up on,” he said smoothly, eyes darting around for an escape route. Before Lois could blink, Jimmy was already walking away, a little too fast, leaving Kara standing there with a hopeful smile fading into a quiet disappointment.

Lois’s curiosity only grew.

The next day, Jimmy invited her to join him for lunch at a little diner not far from the office. It was the kind of place with vinyl booths, checkered tablecloths, and a waitress who seemed to know every regular by name.

Jimmy slid into the booth with his usual easy confidence, scanning the menu while shooting quick glances at the entrance every time a waitress passed by. Sure enough, the waitress came over to take their order.

“Hey there, Jimmy! The usual?” she said, dropping a menu in front of him.

“Yep,” Jimmy said with a wink.

Lois watched as he flirted with the waitress, asking questions about her weekend plans and joking about the “world’s best” cherry pie. When she brought over a complimentary appetizer, a plate of crispy onion rings, Jimmy gave her a grateful smile that seemed genuine, not the usual practiced charm.

But Lois also noticed something else. When the waitress left their table, Jimmy’s smile dimmed for a moment. He picked up his fork with a little less enthusiasm, eyes flicking to the window as if he was somewhere else. Lois saw his smile freeze.

As soon as the waitress walked away, Jimmy slid the slip out of sight and, on the way out the door, dropped it into a nearby garbage can with a casual flick of his wrist. Lois raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.

Outside, as they walked back toward the office, Lois decided to press a little. “You know,” she said casually, “she gave you her number.”

Jimmy shrugged, hands in his pockets. “Doesn’t mean anything.”

“It means something to her,” Lois said softly. “Why throw it away?”

Jimmy stopped and looked at her, his usual bravado fading into something more honest. “I don’t want to lead anyone on,” he said.

Lois crossed her arms, her voice firm but not unkind. “That’s cowardice, Jimmy. People deserve more than scraps.”

Jimmy sighed and ran a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly. “Maybe. But it’s not that simple.”

“Nothing worthwhile ever is,” Lois said, nudging him with her elbow.

He smiled again, but this time it was quieter, less guarded. “Maybe one day I’ll figure that out.”

Lois grinned. “You better. Otherwise, you’ll keep losing out.”

She was starting to see the real story behind the flirt, the laughs, and the half-hearted excuses. And she wasn’t about to let him off the hook that easily.

+++

“You're snooping,” Clark said, leaning casually against the doorframe, arms crossed as he watched Lois rifle through the drawers of Jimmy’s cluttered desk.

Lois didn’t look up. She pulled out a stack of papers, rifled through a few folders, then slid one open. “I sent him out for a coffee. I’ve got about ten minutes before he’s back. Can we unpack this after?”

Clark raised an eyebrow, stepping fully into the room. “Why are you snooping, Lois? This isn’t like you.”

Lois sighed, closing the folder and setting it aside. “Clark, doesn’t it bug you? Doesn’t it just gnaw at you that Jimmy spends all his free time flirting, acting like he’s got nothing to lose, but goes on maybe three dates a year? And those end the same way, him slipping away as soon as it gets serious.”

Clark rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “Maybe he’s just not ready.”

“That’s what I thought at first,” Lois said, voice dropping to a softer tone. “But then, I started looking for answers. Maybe there’s something he’s not telling us. Something that’s holding him back.”

She opened another drawer, this one slightly jammed, and dug around until her fingers brushed something unexpected, a worn folder, tucked at the very back. Pulling it out, she flipped through some loose papers, then paused when a small, folded photograph slipped out and fluttered to the floor.

Lois picked it up and unfolded it carefully.

The photo was torn clean down the middle, half of Jimmy’s face was missing, but the other half showed his familiar smile, eyes warm and unguarded. Overlapping his chest was a woman’s shoulder and hand, a delicate ring glinting on her finger that rested in his lap. The woman’s identity was obscured, but the signature on the back was unmistakable, “Y/N.”

Lois stared at the photo for a long moment, her mind racing. Who was Y/N? And what was the story behind this torn picture, hidden away like a secret? But in his desk at work?

Clark stepped closer, following her gaze. “Looks like someone Jimmy cared about… enough to keep the photo, but also tear it apart.”

Lois folded the photo carefully and tucked it back into the folder. “Or someone he had to let go. Something happened here, Clark. And I’m going to find out what.”

Jimmy walked into the bullpen. "Alright, Lois, here's your or-"

"Who is Y/N?"

+++

“So, a wild goose chase?” You chuckled, eyes sparkling with mischief as you settled onto the worn couch in Jimmy’s apartment.

Jimmy grinned, leaning back against the armrest with that trademark charm lighting up his face. “And you’re the goose,” he teased, voice low. “Quack for me?”

Rolling your eyes, you grabbed a spring roll from the center of the cluttered coffee table, popping it into your mouth with a smirk. “Jump off a building for me?” you shot back, raising an eyebrow in challenge.

He laughed, the sound easy and genuine. “Only if you catch me first.”

You crossed your arms but couldn’t hide the smile tugging at your lips. “You’re impossible, Jimmy.”

He winked, reaching over to swipe the last spring roll before you could grab it. “And that’s why you keep coming back.”

After finishing your spring roll, you stood up with a stretch and headed toward the bathroom. “I’m going to shower before bed. Don’t get into too much trouble,” you called over your shoulder. "Also, geese honk, they don't quack."

Jimmy chuckled, already starting to tidy up the mess of empty wrappers and plates on the coffee table. Just as he was stacking the last cup, there was a sharp knock at the door. He paused, a flicker of something crossing his face, but it was gone in an instant.

There, standing awkwardly on the threshold, were Lois and Clark. Clark looked like he’d rather be anywhere else, arms crossed, jaw tight, but Lois had that unmistakable spark of curiosity in her eyes. She was scanning the apartment subtly, taking in every detail.

“Hey, Jimmy,” Lois said smoothly, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. “We were in the neighborhood and thought we’d stop by.”

Jimmy forced a grin, stepping back to let them in. “Well, isn’t this a surprise? Clark, you look like you’re here under duress.”

Clark gave a half-smile, clearly trying to keep the peace. “Just keeping Lois company.”

Lois didn’t miss the way Jimmy’s smile faltered for a split second. She folded her arms, her gaze flickering to the slightly messy coffee table, the stack of papers on the desk, the half-empty mug by the sink.

“So, what brings you two here?” Jimmy asked, voice casual but with an edge, he could see Lois was onto him. She always was. And if she wanted to be nosy, well, he was ready to make her squirm.

Clark shifted uncomfortably, but Lois held his gaze with a quiet confidence. “Just checking in. You know, making sure everything’s... okay.”

Jimmy raised an eyebrow. “Everything’s fine. Just wrapping up a long day.”

Lois smiled, small, knowing. “Uh-huh. That’s what I thought.”

Jimmy stepped aside, gesturing toward the living room. “Make yourselves comfortable. Coffee? Water? Pie?”

Clark settled into the corner chair, arms still crossed, while Lois dropped onto the couch, eyes never stopping their subtle search.

Jimmy closed the door behind them and grinned to himself. Let the games begin.

"I wasn't expecting guests," he started. "I'll be right back."

He disappeared down the short hall and ducked into his bedroom, closing the door quietly behind him. You were just stepping out of the en-suite bathroom, towel wrapped around your body, your damp hair clinging to your shoulders, when he turned and clamped a hand over your mouth.

Your eyes widened slightly, more surprised than alarmed, but you didn’t pull away.

“Lois is here,” he whispered, low and urgent. “I have a plan.”

His eyes were gleaming with a familiar, wicked spark, one that made your heart race a little faster even as you narrowed your eyes at him in suspicion. He was up to something, but there was that glint, the one that said trust me, you’ll love this.

You could have laughed, or rolled your eyes, or pushed him away. Instead, you slowly lowered his hand from your mouth and whispered, “What kind of plan?”

+

"Had a smelly dinner." Jimmy returned with a candle, setting it in the center of the coffee table.

“So,” he said casually, “to what do I owe the honor of this late-night ambush?”

Lois didn’t bite. “Just in the neighborhood. Thought we’d check in. You know, make sure you haven’t joined a cult, started smuggling alien tech, or, I don’t know, hiding a secret love affair.”

Jimmy smirked. “Well, I have been suspiciously happy lately. That must’ve raised red flags.”

Clark cleared his throat, uncomfortable. “We should probably."

The bedroom door burst open behind them, and you came storming out, barefoot and furious, hair still damp from your shower. A stack of your clothes was clutched to your chest, and the sheer volume of your rage filled the apartment before your words even did.

“I knew it,” you shouted, not even glancing at Lois or Clark. “I knew I shouldn’t have trusted you, Jimmy!”

Jimmy froze, eyes going wide. “Wait! Hey-”

“You invite me over, you feed me dinner, you let me shower in your apartment, and now there’s another woman out here in your living room?!” You gestured wildly toward Lois, who was frozen mid-turn on the couch, stunned.

Clark looked like he wanted to vanish into the floor. Lois blinked once, slowly, like her brain was buffering.

“I- it’s not-” Jimmy started.

But you steamrolled right over him. “You know what? I don’t need this. I don’t need you. Keep your takeout, your charming smile, and your whole ‘aww-shucks, I’m just a sweet guy’ routine.”

You marched past them, fury in every footstep. At the door, you paused just long enough to shoot one final glare over your shoulder.

“You’re unbelievable, Jimmy.”

The front door rattled in its frame as you left, barefoot and dramatic.

Silence filled the apartment like a pressure drop. Jimmy stood there, still halfway reaching after you, then slowly dropped his arms to his sides and let out a long, dramatic sigh. He turned back around.

Lois and Clark were still frozen. Clark, with his jaw slightly unhinged, and Lois sitting bolt upright now, eyes huge and completely stunned. Jimmy looked at them with perfect exasperation.

“Great. And I just got her to forgive me for the flower shop incident.”

Clark blinked. “What just happened?”

“I’m a flirt, right?” Jimmy said, voice flat, his usual grin nowhere in sight. “Guess that’s all anyone sees.”

Lois shifted her weight uncomfortably. She glanced at Clark, whose face had softened just slightly with realization, then turned back to Jimmy.

“We should… we should go,” she mumbled, almost to herself. Something in Jimmy’s voice had unsettled her.

Clark moved to the door first, and Lois followed. But just as she stepped into the hall, she hesitated. She turned in the doorway, watching Jimmy for a long second. He was standing there with his head down, fingers pressed to the bridge of his nose, the soda can untouched in his hand.

“Jimmy,” she said quietly.

He looked up, not masking the tiredness in his eyes this time.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

She didn’t wait for a response. The door clicked shut behind her, and the apartment fell into silence again.

Jimmy didn’t move for a long time.

He walked slowly to the couch, dropped onto it, and stared at the front door like it might open again. He wasn’t sure what Lois had seen in that final glance, whether she’d bought the act or seen right through it, but either way, it left something heavy in his chest.

He closed his eyes and exhaled. The soda hissed quietly in his hand.

The front door opened slowly, and you sauntered back in, bare feet silent on the hardwood floor. You still wore his oversized shirt, though you’d thrown on a pair of shorts, and your hair had started to dry in damp waves. You held your arms crossed, looking at him with barely concealed amusement.

He didn’t look up right away. “They gone?”

“Lois made it halfway down the block before she turned and looked back at the building one last time,” you said, walking over to the coffee table and plucking a fortune cookie from the leftover pile. “Clark was already across the street pretending to be invisible.”

Jimmy finally raised his eyes to meet yours. “Thanks for the performance.”

You cracked the cookie open and peeked at the fortune inside. “A clever fox must sometimes play the fool,” you read aloud, then held it up. “Appropriate?”

He snorted and tossed the untouched soda into the sink without looking. “Little too on the nose.”

You walked over and dropped beside him on the couch, folding one leg beneath you. “You okay?”

Jimmy didn’t answer right away. His expression shifted—not the charming grin or sarcastic deflection, but something quieter. Tired. His voice, when it came, was low and raw around the edges. "I feel bad."

You patted his shoulder. "I'll bring you all lunch tomorrow."

After a long silence, you reached over and took his hand, weaving your fingers through his without a word. He squeezed your hand gently, then rested his head back against the couch cushion.

+++

The next morning at the Daily Planet, the air had a strange hum to it, something just under the surface, unspoken but felt. Lois was quieter than usual, her usual sharp-edged commentary dulled, replaced with long glances across the bullpen.

Jimmy was already at his desk, eyes bleary from another short night. He wasn’t spinning in his chair, wasn’t cracking jokes, wasn’t bothering the mailroom girls. He was just… working. Quietly.

Lois stood by the coffee station a moment longer than necessary, watching him out of the corner of her eye.

Finally, she made a move.

She walked over, set a steaming cup of coffee on his desk without a word, then started to walk away.

Jimmy blinked, looking up at her. “Thanks.”

She paused mid-step and offered a quick, tight smile. “Yeah.”

That was it. No teasing. No pointed remarks. Just quiet awkwardness and one too many glances in his direction.

By lunch, she caved.

He was standing near the windows, fiddling with a lens filter from one of the cameras, when she approached him again, arms crossed, trying to look casual.

“I was thinking we could grab something for lunch,” she said, too quickly. “Maybe… talk.”

Jimmy raised an eyebrow, more surprised than anything else. “Talk?”

Lois shrugged like it was no big deal. “I figured you might want to get something off your chest. Or eat something other than a vending machine granola bar.”

He gave a quiet chuckle and leaned back against the ledge, arms folded. “That’s… actually kind of you.”

Lois glanced at the clock. 12:59.

Jimmy’s gaze followed hers.

1:00.

Right on cue, the elevator dinged, and there you were, stepping out with two bulging takeout bags in your arms and a breezy smile on your face. You spotted Jimmy instantly and lifted one bag in greeting.

“Hey!” you called across the bullpen. “Your usual’s still hot, extra chili oil this time.”

Lois blinked. Jimmy’s whole face lit up in a way that caught her off guard. Not his usual over-the-top grin. This was quieter, softer. A kind of joy that wasn’t performative.

He pushed off the window and walked over to meet you halfway, taking one of the bags from your hand without a word. The familiarity between you was unmistakable. You handed him a drink and reached into your own bag for napkins. “They messed up the dumplings, so they gave us free bao instead. You’re welcome.”

He nudged your shoulder with his. “You’re the best.”

“I know.”

Lois stood where she was, watching this easy exchange, the way you didn’t glance around for attention, how Jimmy didn’t perform anything for the room. You talked like people who’d done this a hundred times before. Like people who didn’t need to prove anything.

Jimmy turned, eyes meeting hers across the bullpen.

“Oh,” he said, like it had just occurred to him. “Lois, this is my girlfriend."

You grinned immediately, raising your hand in a small wave like you’d just been caught sneaking dessert before dinner. “Guilty!”

Lois’s face dropped for a fraction of a second. Not enough to be obvious, but enough that Jimmy caught it.

Then, just as quickly, she recovered, barked out a surprised laugh, and pointed between the two of you. “You’re kidding. That whole dramatic exit last night, that was your girlfriend?”

Jimmy shrugged, effortlessly slipping into his trademark grin. “Yeah. She’s a hell of an actress, huh?

Across from you, Lois tried to laugh again, but it landed strangely. Forced. Her smile was still on her face, but something behind her eyes had gone sharp. Processing. Recalculating.

“You really had me,” she said, almost admiringly. “I thought you were… I don’t know, spiraling.”

Jimmy smirked, extending a box over to her. "Now you see why?"

Lois nodded, opening it to find her own meal. "You're happy to let anyone think you're a flirt, but you run for the hills when they take you up on it, because you love her. And you wouldn't ruin that."

"Exactly," Jimmy nodded. "Now, any questions?"

"Oh! So many!" Lois smiled. "But first, what's in that last box?"

Jimmy smiled. "That one's for Clark. I think he was the true victim in all of this."

[funeralprocession]

#13; This is funeralprocession's 300th post! A half-fluffy, half-suggestive thing (it isn't too overt, I can't really bring myself to write anything too extreme anyway, I'm a wuss XD!!) to mark the occasion ♡

[ #1 ] [ < #12 ] [ #14 > ] (word count: 2018)

I even wrote Kokichi's name out this time, in case me using an affectionate nickname was distracting before... Sorry about that, I wasn't being annoying on purpose, that happens without me~ ♡

"Sorry that took so long," Nagito announced into the room as he entered, turning to close the door behind himself, "You have to keep your expectations low, I'm incompetent--" "Koma-chan!" Kokichi greeted cheerfully, deliberately interrupting Nagito's self-criticism and setting the manga volume he'd been idly thumbing through down onto the nearby shelf. "Y-yes?" Nagito looked over his shoulder, suddenly unnerved by Kokichi's reaction, "Y-you… Were expecting me to come back, right?" "Of course!" Kokichi huffed, "Why are you like this?" Nagito chuckled and shrugged, showing no intention of answering that question. "Anyway," Kokichi stated firmly and crossed the room, latching onto Nagito's elbow, "Did you see anybody while you were out? Did they ask about me?" Nagito blinked vacantly; Kokichi pulled him down slightly and fixed his hair that had fallen over his face. "I… Uh," Nagito glanced away, "Sorry, I… Kind of keep away from everybody whenever I'm out? I didn't know you wanted me to… Uh… Sorry." "Oh, whatever!" Kokichi asserted sternly, "Not like I care about them anyway!" "Hmm," Nagito smiled faintly and Kokichi lead him over to a familiar chair - however, that chair did not belong in Nagito's room. "Uh…"

It was definitely the chair Nagito had located in that storage closet, the one that had the jail-bar backrest he secured Kokichi to while he interrogated him to find out what he wanted for his birthday. It was probably that chair, anyway. It was definitely identical to it, at least.

"Surprise!" Kokichi grinned and shoved Nagito down onto it. "Is this why you sent me on that errand?" Nagito furrowed his brow as Kokichi rounded him, firmly planting his hands on both of Nagito's shoulders. "You're all tense again!" Kokichi complained loudly, "I just worked out all your stress-knots and they're back!" "Sorry… It was pretty hard to get every last bag of those gummies Hiyoko likes--" Kokichi cackled, "She pissed me off before, but this will make us even. I'll forgive her when she realizes somebody cleaned out the entire stock!" "Ah, I understand," Nagito smirked faintly, "I was wondering what you wanted them for, since you can't have--" "I can have whatever I want!" Kokichi interrupted sharply, "I don't even like gummies, I don't want 'em!" "Well, what are you going to do with all the ones I just got for you?" "Hmm," Kokichi tilted his head adorably, glancing at the shopping bags Nagito had carried in and left near the door, "Sell 'em to Hiyoko at a markup? You think she's got anything worth bartering?" "I doubt it," Nagito smirked faintly once again, Kokichi beginning to work on the tension knots in his shoulders. "Oh well, there's plenty of time to think of something and I've got all the leverage right now, neeheehee!"

It really seemed like Nagito playing along with Kokichi's 'evil supreme leader' shtick was emboldening him - empty bluster and unapologetic yet playful manipulation gave way to… What could be considered 'actual villainy'.

"Ha," Nagito chuckled breathily as Kokichi massaged his shoulders a little harder than before. "Hmm? What was that noise~?" Kokichi asked flirtatiously. "Sorry, I was just--" "What?" Kokichi grinned and squeezed his shoulders a bit firmer, "What happened?" "N-nothing," Nagito chuckled nervously, "Nothing happened, I just noticed… Sorry for noticing, but you've been a bit more… Ha…"

Kokichi went back to massaging Nagito's shoulders, deriving a perverse sort of enjoyment out of just how easy Nagito was - he was almost too easy, but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing--

"You've been behaving more like an evil supreme leader recently, master!" Nagito praised suddenly, "It's so wonderful to get to see it up close!" "What?" Kokichi whined, "Is that really it?" "Huh? Is something wrong?" "Wavy-haired bastard!" Kokichi huffed, "You tricked me, damn you!" "What?" "I mean, at least you're not boring but still!" Kokichi continued, sounding slightly irate.

Nagito wasn't sure if Kokichi was feigning annoyance, or if he was actually upset this time.

"Stupid stress knots," Kokichi grumbled, "Take off your jacket." "Ah, ok," Nagito nodded slightly and complied, slipping his jacket off of his shoulders; Kokichi tossed it onto the end of the bed without delay. "Now, what were you saying?" Kokichi asked, sounded slightly deflated, "About how wonderful it is to see me being evil or whatever?" "Yes," Nagito nodded once again, a little more enthusiastic that time, "It really is remarkable, I'm honoured!" "…Wait, really?" "I'm so humbled, the fact that someone like me is allowed to see this up close? The fact that you chose me to be your lowly servant!" "Nagito, you knock that off," Kokichi furrowed his brow, sounding slightly concerned, "I told you--"

The problem when Nagito would get worked up in that way was he became even more difficult to predict than usual. He was already peculiar and easy to misread - but when he was getting spun up into a frenzy the way he sometimes did--

"I'm sorry, master, I just wanted to tell you… For what it's worth, coming from someone like me? It's such a privilege to see your hope burning brighter than ever. It would be such a compliment if I had any part of it? But I realize that's a little too much for an inconsequential person like me to hope for." "Stop that, you're distracting me," Kokichi commanded, his voice small - an embarrassed mutter at best. "I understand, it doesn't mean much coming from someone like me, that's ok," Nagito granted, an odd, excited tremble inside of his voice. Kokichi couldn't recall hearing that particular quality before. He had no idea what it meant, if anything.

"I thought you had a handle on this shit, Nagito!" Kokichi finally asserted, "Why are you being so weird?" "Huh?" "What happened out there? Did you really avoid everybody? What's going on with you?" "I'm not sure what you're saying, master." "You knew what I was up to, didn't you? Now you're messing with me!" "I don't understand…"

Kokichi didn't have any choice - he needed to continue with the plan. He obviously hadn't made any provisions for 'Nagito returning and behaving strangely, more-so than usual', but there was nothing he could do about it now.

"What--" There was a metallic 'clack' and Nagito felt a slight pressure around both of his wrists in an instant - the 'pressure' was soft and fluffy. Immediately after, Kokichi was sitting straddle on Nagito's lap. A lot was happening very quickly. "Surprise!" Kokichi grinned and fixed Nagito's hair once again. "I have no idea what's happening," Nagito chuckled; the laugh was weak and insincere. "Don't you remember?" Kokichi tilted his head, pretending his feelings were hurt, "This chair, those handcuffs, me sitting on your lap?" "I remember those things, yes," Nagito nodded slightly, "I don't understand what's happening right now…" "It's not how I planned it, but you messed me up!" Kokichi argued, "Damn you! I had everything planned out perfect and you fucked me up!" "Sorry," Nagito chuckled with a weak shrug.

He was at least acting more like his normal self - Kokichi had no idea what brought that on, but it seemed to be over with. While Kokichi normally liked unpredictability--

"Anyway," Kokichi slid his hands up onto Nagito's shoulders, working on the tension knots once again from the odd position he was suddenly in. "Ha," Nagito chuckled softly and glanced away, unsure of what to say about the current situation; he genuinely had no idea what was happening. "Am I making you uncomfortable~?" Kokichi asked mischievously. "No, of course not," Nagito responded serenely, "You can do whatever you want to me and I won't complain--" "Stop that!" Kokichi huffed, "You're onto me, aren't you? Admit it!" "I have no idea what you're planning on doing to me," Nagito explained coolly, "I would actually appreciate it if you would explain... Sorry." There was a short, rather tense pause.

Kokichi leaned in close, glancing from Nagito's lips to his eyes; Nagito could feel Kokichi's breath brushing against his skin. "You have something I want," Kokichi finally revealed, "I intend to take it." "That's why you handcuffed me?" "No!" Kokichi asserted sternly, "I mean, yes! Kinda!" "Ah, ok."

There was another span of silence; Kokichi bounced on Nagito's lap slightly.

"Huh? Is something wrong?" Kokichi blushed instantly and rolled his eyes, resuming the backward shoulder-rub. Nagito felt like he was missing something important, but had absolutely no idea what it could be.

"Ha," Kokichi chuckled softly, blushing still, "Fuck." "Are you feeling ok?" Nagito furrowed his brow, "I would feel your forehead to check your temperature, but I can't use my hands right now." "I'm fine!" "Wait, I know--" Without waiting for a response, Nagito leaned forward and pressed his forehead against Kokichi's. "You're a little warm…" "Shut up! Stop messing with me! Why aren't you hard?" "Huh?" "I mean it! Getting handcuffed to this stupid chair was hot as fuck! What's the problem?" Nagito blinked and tilted his head slightly without responding aloud. "What's-- Don't you like me?" "Of course--" "Then what's wrong--"

Kokichi bounced on Nagito's lap again; Nagito chuckled.

"Oh, I'm not into getting tied up, sorry. It's happened before and it didn't work then, either. I mean, they weren't doing it for this reason, but it still didn't have any effect." "This will be useful to know for next time, I guess." "Ah, I see," Nagito smirked faintly, "You wanted me to get excited so I would be more compliant for some reason." "It worked on me," Kokichi cackled with a casual shrug, "No big deal, whatever." "I already told you, you can do whatever you want to me and I won't complain about it. This isn't necessary." "It isn't what I want to do to you, it's what I want from you. There's a difference."

"No." "Come on!" "No, You can't have it." "Nagito! That was an order! Give it!" Kokichi bounced on Nagito's lap a little more forcefully, "Wavy-haired bastard!" "Your orthodontist said you can't have gummy candy--" "They're not gummies, they're Twizzlers! Totally different shit!" "They're not different, they're soft and would get stuck in your braces." "Nagito! Hand 'em over!" "No. I hid them, you can't have them." "JACKASS! I own you!" "Your orthodontist said you're not supposed to have popcorn, gum, gummy candy--" "Twizzlers aren't gummies! I dunno what they are but they're different!" Nagito smiled pleasantly and shrugged, clearly not swayed by Kokichi's argument.

"Ha, this is hot as fuck again!" Kokichi whined, "Even when I'm not the one stuck on the damn chair, I'm still the one getting excited!" Nagito chuckled, "If it makes you feel any better, my shoulders are a little sore. So this is sort of unpleasant… A little." "You're a total wreck," Kokichi huffed, forcing Nagito's knees apart so he could sit on the chair-seat between his thighs, instead of having his weight on Nagito's legs. "I know," Nagito smiled faintly, "I'm a trash-pile." "Shut up, I'm mad at you," Kokichi grinned and resumed attempting to give Nagito a shoulder-rub, "You're keeping the handcuffs on as punishment for disobeying me, but I'm feeling sorry for you." "You can have your gummy candy back--" "NOT gummies." "--When you can explain to me how they're not gummy candy. And you have to be clear when you're explaining, I'm incompetent." "You are not," Kokichi huffed, "You're annoying, not incompetent."

The soft, playful bickering continued for a little while longer until Kokichi couldn't take it anymore (the extremely close proximity, having Nagito restrained and still refusing to comply), foiling his own plan he'd attempted to enact.

"Neeheehee!" Kokichi chuckled after breaking the kiss he'd initiated with his captive, "You can't stop me from jerking off this time!" "That's kind of rude, don't you think?" Nagito stated flatly, "You're going to jerk off on me?" "Yes," Kokichi cackled. "'Yes', it's rude? Or 'yes', you're going to do it?" "Both!" Kokichi chirped and Nagito chuckled, getting pulled back into a smooch, the handcuff chain clattering slightly against the chair.

- - -

I figure it would be kind of difficult for Nagito to antagonize Kokichi (the way the Servant got in the way, that malicious compliance stuff he would do, or maybe weaponized, intentional incompetence?); Kokichi has a good sense of humour for the most part, being a bit of a joker himself... Also, Keech has braces in my morgue design; Nagito deliberately obeying the orthodontist's orders is kind of the perfect excuse for him to get in the way. ♡

[ #1 ] [ < #12 ] [ #14 > ]

[frost-eyed-autumn]

A disgusted noise rings in the back of his throat, still glaring daggers at Verlaine as he addresses Mori, and some of those daggers turn on Mori as he speaks even if they're not quite as sharp as those he directs at Verlaine; even if his words don't ring as loud when he speaks but they still hold an edge of something sharp he can't completely hold back, shoving to his feet abruptly enough that his chair scrapes behind him a few inches.

Any other time, he'd be mortified at himself for being so sharp-edged and brazen, so... in your face with Mori, but he feels like a damn cornered animal and he doesn't know how to handle that right now with nothing to hit and no enemies to turn his teeth on. He'd been feeling that way for a while now, really, he'd just been shoving it to the side hoping time would fix it.

"There's no fucking choice to be made. The Sheep mean a lot to me but the Port Mafia are my family! This is my home! I'm never going to stop caring about the Sheep and I don't blame them for what they did, I'm grateful for the years I got to have with them and that a few of them haven't still shut me out completely, but they still turned their backs on me and tried to have me killed without even listening to me, every single one of them, even Yuan and Shirase, even if they regret it! I can forgive but I don't forget. The Sheep weren't the ones who sacrificed and died and worked their asses off to help me figure out who I am, to prove that I'm not just someone's fucked up science experiment that belongs nowhere, the Port Mafia did! You did!"

So what if he shouts? So what if Verlaine looks at him like a fucking child for it? He's tired of just biting his tongue and blindly trusting people will just see what he's about when he keeps ending up here, being questioned and given ultimatums as if nothing he's ever done means a damn thing to anyone but himself.

How many more fucking times is he going to have to justify and beg that his loyalty just be acknowledged as something real?

He's loathe to admit it. It makes him so sick to his stomach he could puke, but yes, even he has limits. Even he breaks. And he hates more than any of that that he's doing it here and now where anyone can see that, that Mori will see that, but he just can't fucking take this anymore.

He's exhausted of trying to play by all the rules and still never being seen.

"I'm sorry if I'm not fucking good enough! I'm sorry if I turned out not to be whatever you thought you saw in me or wanted me to be! I'm trying! All I ever do is try! I try to make you happy! I try to build up this organization into everything you want it to be! I try to follow your rules and jump through every hoop but there's just some that I can't and I'm sorry for being such a fucking failure that can't hit all of your expectations but everything I do I try to do for this organization and for you! If you're done with me and washing me out then fine but don't drag it out and lie to me with cryptic dismissals and phony smiles just because you're afraid of me and that I'm going to blow your whole tower to kingdom come with this Ability of mine if you don't pat me on the head and tell me everything's fine! I'm not stupid, I'm not a threat, and if you've found someone like Rimbaud better suited to your needs just like you replaced Dazai with me after he failed to be what you wanted and filled my head with talk about how I was your first choice then fine, he can fucking have it, I already know I'm not deserving of that and I don't want your crown! I just want to follow your orders and have somewhere to come back to that doesn't throw me out like trash and I just-- I don't-- know what else-- I'm supposed to--"

He's only now realizing how blurry Mori's visage gets, how hard it is to breathe, gasping on hyperventilating breaths.

He reaches up with the back of one hand to wipe his eyes, finds them wet, and then reaches up with the other arm to furiously try and wipe them away, but the tears keep coming faster than he can get rid of them and he abruptly turns away, hissing under his breath.

"Shit."

for a moment, verlaine is still and silent, arms crossed over his chest as he stares ahead. he takes a deep breath and glances up briefly. it's not as if he didn't expect to be the one that chuuya directed his anger towards, but that doesn't mean that he doesn't appreciate it.

pale eyes slip to the side and he narrows them a bit. "just sit there and be quiet for a few minutes. you can learn a lot from just listening instead of constantly yelling over someone else when they're speaking. you're still a child in that aspect." he turns his attention back to mori after a moment. "if he wasn't conspiring against you, the choice can be made at a later date. right?"

mori watches the two of them with a bemused smile, one brow furrowing. he closes his eyes and leans back in his seat, thinking a moment. "i suppose that it can wait a bit longer." ever the lenient man, he supposes.

"but if this is true about you needing time and space, the leave is still recommended. i still stand by what i said when i said the organization would be fine, and i'll contact you should something be urgent."

[bujlililu]

What's this guy's problem?? Yeo, come get your man

Cadet belongs to @yeosin-n

[suhtorus]

dogs out. zenin toji

fluff ‐ parents au. ₊˚⊹ ᰔ slice of life, mom!reader, unnamed 2yo daughter, megumi is four, and tsumiki is six. preschool teacher!nanami cameo ♡

little sunshines au

"moooooom! the baby took her shoes off again!"

tsumiki's voice has you peeking your head from the kitchen, trying to catch sight of your little girl. you're about to call your husband's name when he walks into the living room and picks your daughter up from the floor.

"dont like 'em?" he smirks, holding her tiny foot up and inspecting it.

she grins cheekily at her dad, proudly wiggling her little toes and showing off the sparkly nail polish on them.

"spaw-cle!"

finally done with the dishes, you join them and see her crocs discarded by the couch.

"again?"

"let her be, ma." toji has her foot against her cheek, both of them giggling at the silliness of it.

"she has to get used to them, toji."

he finally meets your eyes and sees the stern look in them. slowly, he puts your daughter down while she looks at him in confusion. toji doesn't have the heart to force his youngest to do stuff she doesn't like. but after three kids and years of marriage with you, he knows this is a battle he won't win.

"sorry, kiddo."

—

two days later, he's standing by the gates of the kids' school, waiting for them, when he notices something odd.

his face quickly switches from boredom to concern once he spots nanami holding his baby girl in his arms, her face visibly blotched from crying.

"she wouldn't stop taking her shoes off during class. I'm afraid we had to take... drastic measures." the blond man hands her over, visibly tense at toji's reaction. tsumiki and megumi stand next to him with matching frowns, having seen (and heard) their baby sister's cries. "school's policy."

"daddy!" she's bursting into tears as soon as she's in his arms, her watery eyes set on his concerned ones. "want 'em off!"

toji looks down at her feet and sees the brown tape around her pink sneakers, clashing horribly against it and causing him to sigh in defeat.

"baby, you can't keep taking your shoes off." he's patting her back in comfort, letting her sob against his shoulder while he turns to nanami again. "any advice? my wife and I have been struggling for weeks."

having seen this before, nanami recalls a piece of advice given from a couple who struggled with this, too. "try to find a pair that she likes. they don't have to be sneakers—the school isn't strict with that."

and suddenly, toji has a brilliant idea.

—

"princess, c'mere."

both you and your husband enter your daughter's room, sitting on the floor, and she comes closer with her plushie hanging from her hand.

toji places a box in front of her, your demeanor slightly anxious as you wait for her reaction. for a two-year-old, you're aware that she can be the toughest crowd sometimes.

her eyes are fixed in front of her, watching her dad opening the boring, brown box until pink and glitter are all her brain can process.

"woah..." she's clearly in awe, her little hands quickly grabbing the tiny pink heels and slipping them on her feet. "mommy shoes!"

the heels clack loudly against the floor, her steps uncoordinated and clumsy, but she can't stop giggling happily, walking back and forth.

"what did i tell you, ma?" toji's grin is smug, his arms wrapping around you while you play it off with a roll of your eyes. the sigh of relief is obvious from you two. "problem fixed."

he hasn't even finished gloating when you spot megumi standing by the door with his hands covering his ears, glaring ominously at toji.

"don't be so sure, honey."

[veejiez]

i'm sorry i'm just going insane thinking about bully gojo who is actually SPIRALLING in love with the reader...

the hot eye contact, how he can't hardly rip his gaze off you even though he's declared that he "can't stand the sight of you" just mere minutes ago...

... how he scribbles your name down in his diary so angrily, writing SCATHING and NASTY shit about you until he eventually ends with "... but somehow i still feel like i can't survive my days without getting a quick fix from her eyes. she's torturing me."

oh and he bitches to his best friend about you — you! what you've done to him! and all suguru does is snicker when he listens to satoru's dialogues, and his stupid reply is always "sounds bad. maybe kiss and make up?"

oh, satoru goes red. he's livid. just can't take it anymore. goes to confront you about all your offences, but quickly crumbles when he sees how pretty you look today and — he can only chew his lip and glare at you like you're just the worst...

so much effort put into hating on you... and still he wants to grab you and pull you in for a violent kiss — something that would taste a little like raw, bleeding feelings that have been suffocated and ignored for far too long

[raven-dor]

clark kent thinks you're avoiding him... you are - drabble #1

🩵💗 - i have never felt so inspired in my life (total lie but still - clark kent has me in a chokehold - SUPERMAN WAS SO GOOD) this kind of fic is my fav (i've seen it done so so soooo many times with spidey, and i wanted to write my own little bit for superman!!) corenswet!clark kent, miscommunication trope (im sorry), best friends (idiots in love) to lovers, yearning, MEDDLING LOIS, cursing (not from clark, obvi), secret identity reveal!! word count: 1.6k

"I know you're in there."

Five words that scared the living daylights out of you. You felt horrible, sick to your stomach. Lying to your best friend wasn't something you particularly enjoyed doing, but it had to be done.

For your own sanity.

You couldn't take it anymore, your friendship.

You loved him so much, too much, some (Lois) could say. It was obvious to everyone but him, apparently. You decided on a whim that the best way to get rid of this affliction was to avoid him (by saying that you were sick). From there, you would strategically miss his calls and texts with well-planned-out excuses. That idea alone would last you a month, maybe two.

Or at least you thought so.

You stared at the door, clutching a pillow close to your chest as if that would calm you down. It didn't. "How did you know that?"

"Well, for one, your lights are on." He sounded impatient, borderline nervous. "I can hear your nervous breathing from here."

"Whoever you're looking for isn't here right now." Smooth, real smooth. You could tell he was breaking; he was probably clenching his jaw right about now. "Come back later."

"I know you're not sick." Damn you, Lois. "What's going on?"

"Nothing, Clark." Your plan for faking a cough was ruined. Most of your plans depended on your sickness. Shit. "I'm just tired."

"Tired?" You imagined your neighbors would be spying curiously at the conversation happening via yelling. "You've been tired for four days, sweetheart."

"You-" You screamed into your pillow, not caring if he heard you. He was horrible, mean without knowing. Mean, because he called you that nickname knowing the effect it had on you. "You're counting, I see."

"I need to see you." Again, was he aware of what he was doing to you, or was he truly so oblivious of his power over you?

"Fine." You muttered to yourself, stalking over, preparing your mind to become a steel trap, impenetrable to all, even those familiar with you. Especially those named Clark. You undid the many locks on your door (Clark's idea) and whipped it open. "Fine! Are you happy?"

God, he was gorgeous. His white button-up hugged his frame in all the right places, and his glasses were in his palm, as if he'd taken them off to nervously rub a hand over his face. "The happiest. Can I come in?"

You stepped aside, shutting the door behind him. "Well, you've seen me."

"What did I do?"

"What-" You frowned. "What makes you think you did something?"

You knew full well you'd given him more than enough to prove he was to blame for your disappearance. He raised an eyebrow, throwing his case and jacket on the couch.

It physically pained you to see him do that, to see him act so casually, like this was routine for him. Like this was home. "C'mon, sweetheart-" You tensed, and he gestured wildly toward you. "See!? You've never done that before. I did something." He stepped forward, his cologne weakening your resolve. "I need to know what it is, so I can fix it."

You walked around him, grabbing his coat and case off the couch, shoving them back into his hold. "You can't fix this."

"Yes, I can." He had the worst hero complex known to mankind. "I can because the alternative-" His voice cracked. "I can't lose you."

You didn't know what to say. You couldn't say he wouldn't lose you, because he was. He was actively losing you. "Clark-"

He opted to throw his things off to the side, their importance nothing compared to your friendship. Friendship. Just thinking the word made you physically nauseous. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" You tilted your head. "Sorry for what?"

"I should have told you." He looked crazed. "I should have told you immediately, but I didn't want to mess it up and-" Your hearing had gone, all your senses failing as your mind reeled with the possibility that maybe Clark, your best friend since high school, your partner in crime, was about to confess his feelings to you.

To you, who was wearing your comfy t-shirt and barely there shorts, whose face looked less than desirable, and whose blue light glasses were doing very little to curb the headache you'd developed.

"Clark, I feel the same-"

"I'm Superman."

Oh fuck. Your eyes welled almost instantly, stumbling over your words. "That's amazing!"

He looked suspicious, like he wanted to ask what you'd thought he was going to say. "Thanks, sweetheart."

You skirted around him, walking into your kitchen and rummaging through the fridge as if you hadn't just accidentally revealed your feelings to your best friend, who happened to be Superman. "So how long have you had these powers?"

"My whole life." He squinted. "What were you-"

"Do your parents know?" You grabbed a cucumber, angrily scrubbing away the germs before grabbing a knife.

"Yeah, I actually-" He tilted his head. "It's a long story."

"Well, I'm all ears." You sliced the cucumber slowly so you had longer to come up with more questions. "This is so exciting."

"What did you say, before I told you I was, y'know?" His arms were crossed, and you didn't know whether to cry or drool at the way the fabric fought against his biceps.

Suddenly, it all made sense, him being Superman. It honestly surprised you that you hadn't realized sooner.

"Sorry?" You grabbed a slice of cucumber, shoving it in your mouth.

"What did you say?" He stepped forward, gently peeling the knife out of your hand, reaching over you to place it in the sink. "Sweetheart, what's going on?"

"Please don't make me do this." Your eyes were wide. "Clark, it was nothing."

"Didn't sound like nothing." He let go of your hand, eyes desperately searching your face for answers. "You were missing for four days. Four days." His hand held your cheek, carressing it gently with his thumb. "I was a wreck. You wouldn't answer my calls or my texts. Even Jimmy was concerned."

"Well, that's sweet of him-"

"You know you've never kept a secret from me before."

"You don't know everything about me, Clark." Shit, that was low, even for you. "I- I meant to say, that..." You stepped out of his hold, grabbing a Tupperware to put the rest of the cucumber in. "Not everything has to be shared between us."

"Oh." His voice was tight, deeper than normal. Serious in a way you'd never heard. "If that's how you feel."

You nodded, too much of a coward to face him. "It is."

"Alrighty." He left the kitchen, grabbing his things from the floor. "Bye then."

"Bye." You watched as he walked out the front door, the door slamming loudly behind him. You would have jumped if you weren't completely numb.

Literally a second later, he burst back through, throwing his things on the ground again, stalking toward you. "Actually, I'm not done."

"Oh really?" You raised an eyebrow. "Because I think you are."

"No." God, he really was intimidating when he needed to be. Obviously, being Superman had its perks. "No, I'm not letting it end this way."

"It?" You scoffed. "There is no it-"

"Why are you being like this?" He looked like he did when you were younger, all flustered and angry, eyes wild and hands animated. "Why won't you just tell me what you said?"

"You really want to know?"

"Yes!" He yelled. "That's all I want!"

"I'm in love with you, you asshole." Tears were streaming down your cheeks in waves, dripping onto your shirt, well, actually, when you thought about it, it was originally Clark's. From high school, the lettering fraying from use. "I've been in love with you for years."

It was like you'd awoken a sleeper agent, because the next thing you knew, you were being picked up like you were nothing and placed on the kitchen counter. "Clark-"

He dove down, kissing you so passionately your eyes practically rolled all the way around. You gasped, grabbing his collar and pulling him even closer (if that was possible). His hands grabbed dangerously at your thighs, trailing up and down, sometimes pinching your hips, your waist.

It seemed like you stayed there for hours, letting out all those years of pent-up tension in one perfect, phenomenal, super kiss.

You were sure you could keep going, but Clark pulled back, smirking when you chased after his lips. "Sweetheart-"

"You can't just-" You huffed, chest heaving as the realization hit you like a punch. "You just-"

"Yeah." His forehead rested against yours, eyes bearing into yours. Well, you thought so. Somewhere along minute two of the kiss, your blue light glasses had fogged up. "You're so brave."

"Yeah?" You laughed. "Braver than Superman?"

"Much braver." He whispered. "I was-" He trailed delicate kisses across your jaw, laughing when your breath hitched. "I was trying to work up the nerve to tell you, and you beat me to it."

"Sorry."

"Don't apologize." He found his way back to your lips, his nose resting against yours. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." You grinned, kissing his lips quickly, relishing in the fact that you could do that now for any and no reason whatsoever. "So how long have you been in love with me?"

"Gosh-" His eyes were black, the perfect blue lost below a sea of charcoal. "Give or take twelve years?"

"Twelve years?" You yelled, slapping a hand over your mouth, shocked at how loud you were. Clark peeled it away, kissing each knuckle gently as you whispered. "Twelve years?"

"M'honestly surprised you didn't figure it out."

You snorted, shaking your head at the way tonight had turned out. "You and me both, Kent."

taglist:

LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO JOIN!

[ssahotchnerr]

Begging and pleading for reader hosting a dinner for the team since they just finished a rough case. No one knows her and Hotch are together, but start getting suspicious when he just?? Knows where everything is in the apartment?? Like he’s been there before??

right at home

i loveee a classic the-team-is-finding-out 🤭 cw; fem bau!reader, established relationship, mentions of food and drinking, fluff <3 wc; 1k

Sometimes, a little team bonding was the only thing needed to recover from a tough week.

After a brutal case that left everyone with a bad taste in their mouth, you jumped at the opportunity to host a gathering at your apartment. It was clear no one wanted to go home just yet; the darkness of the case hung over your heads and made the idea of being alone so soon unbearably daunting.

It wasn't anything extravagant, coming straight from the jet; ordering delivery from a local cafe - a slight, healthier alternative to  the usual takeout consumed on cases. Forgoing formal seating at your kitchen table and instead crowding on the carpet around your coffee table, a movie playing in the background, offered a casual and comfy atmosphere.

Sitting next to Aaron, you wished you could lean over and rest your head against his shoulder. Just for a second. Just long enough to breathe out some of the weight clinging to your ribs. You were glad the team was comforted by being together, but all you needed was Aaron. Only him and then you would be able to put this case in the past.

Plus, it's been a few days since you’d been physically affectionate. Long days in the precinct and out in the field made finding a private moment impossible, and with the team unaware of your relationship, it was impractical to do so much as hold his hand without being behind a closed door.

Little did they know, his overnight bag lay discreetly in your bedroom.

As if he could hear your thoughts, his eyes found yours, a gentleness to them as he silently checked in. Your own eyes briefly softened, relaying that you were fine.

"I'm so happy you all made it home to me unharmed and all in one piece." Penelope commented, her eyes flashing with relief. "Thank good gracious that's over."

"You and us both baby girl," Derek answered, dipping a veggie in some dressing. But as condiments with a thin consistency often did, it dripped off his piece of celery and onto the carpet before he could bring it to his mouth.

He grimaced, an apology in his eyes as they shot to yours. "Shit, I'm sorry mamas."

You waved it off, bringing your knees up to your chest and hugging them. "No worries. Nothing a bit of carpet cleaner can't fix."

"I got it." Aaron didn't hesitate, scrambling up and heading to your hall closet.

The quiet hum of conversation continued on. But after a moment, JJ’s expression shifted; a flash of confusion appearing so abruptly, it was impossible to miss.

How did Hotch know where you kept your cleaning supplies?

"JJ?" Emily asked, her wine glass pausing at her lips. "Something wrong?"

"No." She tentatively shook her head, but her eyes stayed on you, searching your face as if trying to read the things you weren’t saying.

And you weren't saying much. Oblivious to JJ's stare, you weren't acting out of the ordinary at all - taking a sip of your drink, eyes flickering back and forth amongst the conversation. But as Aaron re-entered the room, your face lit up the smallest amount. He handed the carpet scrubber to Morgan, and reclaimed his spot next to you.

You looked relaxed, happy.

Aaron did as well. Too relaxed and too happy, as if he felt at home.

JJ did, however, nudge Emily with an elbow. One that read: start paying attention.

"Morgan, make sure you-"

"I know how to clean a carpet, Hotch." Derek bantered quickly, causing a smile to tug on the ends of Aaron's lips, cheekily looking in your direction as a laugh escaped you. Satisfaction pulled onto his face.

Emily's eyebrows rose. Oh.

The next instance that brought questioning, you all had congregated to the kitchen - another round of drinks for some. As Emily distributed the wine, Aaron took it upon himself to help you rinse off dishes and put them away. Handling it in advance, and saving the two of you time later.

As far as the rest of the team was aware, this was the first time you’d had any of them over. Usually, everybody would meet at Dave's house (mansion, he would correct) or eat out at one of the many establishments populating DC.

But Aaron acted with practiced ease. He didn't ask you where something belonged, no lost expressions filled his face as he tried to determine where something maybe belonged. He just knew.

Spencer's eyes followed him, weighing all the variables. Sure, your dishes were in the closest cupboard to your sink; logically that made sense. Rather convenient, a quick and easy unload, especially given at your height. Was it common sense, or prior knowledge?

But what did he know? Genius or not, he’d never been good at reading subtle cues like those.

Aaron's hand even brushed the small of your back as he passed - something that could've easily been dismissed as a casual, friendly gesture - the kind people make when squeezing by. But there was a quiet familiarity to it, a natural ease, as if he'd done it countless times before.

-

"Are you heading out too?" Dave asked Aaron, his eyes narrowing at him in suspicion. It had gotten late, and everyone had begun streaming out - grabbing coats and tossing goodbyes left and right.

Meanwhile, Aaron lingered quietly in the background, his shoulder pressed lazily against the wall with his arms loosely folded. There was no urgency in his posture - just a calm stillness, as if he had all the time in the world and nowhere in particular to be.

"Why wouldn't I?" Aaron feigned confusion, suddenly debating putting his shoes on to make it more believable.

But he was soon distracted by you - giggling wildly as Penelope refused to release you from her tipsy embrace. Your laughter echoed through the room, unbothered and bright, as JJ - her ride home - attempted to unlatch her from you. Aaron's lips lifted in an almost-there smile.

"Mhm." That answered that. Dave smirked, a wise and knowing glint in his eyes. "Hope you two have a good night."

[damselneedssaving]

BATBOYS BUT THEY WITNESS A STRANGER PULL F!READER INTO A HUG AND CLAIM TO BE HER BOYFRIEND. FT. MARK GRAYSON! P.T.2

★ TAGS: older!damian wayne, older!duke thomas, everyone is 18+, mention of death, romance, mark is utterly devoted to you, jealousy, lots and lots of jealousy, little bit of dark!batboys, kind of dark!mark too

★ A/N: tim didn't get to speak much last chapter so i'm hoping this one makes up for it!! also also, you guys have acc overwhelmed me with all the support, thank you all so much 😭💞💞💞

★ 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐕 ★ | ★ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ★ | ★ 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 ★

MARK DID, IN FACT, SAY 'DIFFERENT DIMENSION'—

—and now, he's sat on your bullet-hole-covered couch, head moving from side-to-side as he watches you pace the room behind your broken table, one hand holding your elbow, the other situated beneath your chin.

You're half paying attention to him, half stuck in your own thoughts, his earlier words repeating in your mind like a mantra, a broken record player you can't seem to fix no matter how much you move its lever.

"Okay," you whisper, maybe to him, maybe to yourself, "let's... let's run this back. You said you're my... boyfriend, right?"

Mark nods in time with a few growls in the background.

"But... from a different dimension?"

He nods again.

"Right, okay." You echo his action, nodding to yourself like any of this makes sense, like you don't have a million thoughts running through your mind right now.

"This is ridiculous," Damian voices one of them with a scoff. "How do we know this isn't another one of Darkseid's schemes? Something to lower your guard with so that he can capture you as leverage against us?"

You breathe in through your nose, pinching it again. "C'mon, Dami, would you really let him follow you to me?"

He purses his lips, not another word falling from his mouth.

That settles that.

"Sorry about that, Mark. Can you elaborate?"

You turn back to the otherworldly meta human, only to find his eyes already on you (still on you), wide, and with his face a little stuck out, like he's actively trying to get closer to you, like he can't bring himself to be too far away.

The thought turns your insides to mush.

You clear your throat, ignoring the tingle in your stomach. "Um, Mark?"

He blinks. "Huh?"

"I, uh, asked if you could, y'know, explain a bit more?"

He blinks again, slower this time. Then, with a shake of his head, he lifts a hand behind his neck, rubbing it in a habit so boyishly awkward, you have to fight back the smile threatening to climb onto your face. "Right." He clears his throat. "I was sent here by this guy in my dimension—Angstrom Levy?"

He peers up at you, as though expecting some sort of reaction to that name, but when you frown back at him with a quirk of your brow, he continues his explanation slowly.

"He can, uh, open these portals at will."

"Right..." you trail off, turning your head down as your eyes glaze over, "and in your world, I'm your girlfriend?"

"Were," he corrects, and it's so quiet, you almost don't catch it.

In fact, you're sure you heard him wrong.

"Sorry?"

"You were my girlfriend," he speaks again, firmer, but in a tone no less far, no less clouded. 

"We broke up?" You furrow your brows—no, that doesn't make sense. If you did break up, why would he come to your door claiming to be your boyfriend and not your ex?

The answer to your question lies in the man seated on your couch, but unlike before, he suddenly can't seem to bring himself to look at you, gaze instead trained to your wooden floorboards like they're the most interesting things to grace the planet. What? Does he not have wood in his dimension?

A beat passes without Mark saying a word.

The silence sits heavy, like the humid air of a rainforest swallowing you whole and threatening your very ability to breathe.

You find yourself awaiting escape from it, his words, however long they may take to come, like a promise of salvation from your woes.

But it isn't him that saves you.

"You died," a voice cuts through the silence, sharp and through gritted teeth. "He let you die in his world."

Instantly, Mark's head shoots up, and he narrows his eyes into sharp, lethal daggers at Damian.

"I didn't let her." He snarls, clenching his fists and gritting his teeth. "I just..."

And then, just like that, he loses all the fight, fingers loosening their tight grip around nothing as his form all but falls, folding over like a wet noodle with no will to keep going.

"Fuck me..." you breathe out, hand already up and pinching your nose again.

To think, another version of you, a different version of you—with a different life and a boyfriend and maybe even no wood in her world—died.

Fucking hell.

"I need a drink," you find yourself muttering, shaking your head lightly before peering up at Mark. "Do you, uh, also need something?"

He's back to looking at you, gaze wide and brows knitted and lips parted by just the slightest hair as he whispers with all the sincerity of a samaritan, "Just you." Then, a little louder, "All I need... is just you."

You think the world stops when you catch air in your throat, that it drowns out until it's just the two of you when those words leave his tongue.

All of a sudden, you seem to be floating on a cloud, drowning in his gaze of pure intensity as your own heartbeat thunders in your ears and you forget how to even breathe or blink or see anyone that's not him for a brief second.

But then that second passes, and you find yourself on land once again.

You quickly excuse yourself, ignoring the holes that bore through you as you leave the room to enter your kitchen instead, the cold of it like a breath of fresh air against your warm skin.

God, fuck, that moment was so intense, you don't know if you can even think about what was revealed before it, his gaze lingering on your skin like rain after a hurricane.

So vivid. So loving. So utterly devoted that you could see nothing but yourself reflected back in those eyes.

The cup in your hands almost slips from the cabinet above your head at the memory.

In fact, it does slip. But it's quickly caught. Though not by you.

A warmth radiates against your back, and you turn, just to have it radiate against your front instead.

"Tim..."

His head is tilted to yours, eyes glazed over as one hand places the cup down on the counter to your left, and the other situates itself firm on the counter to your right.

For a beat, he just stands there, trapping you to the corner of your kitchen with a gaze as clouded as the Gotham night sky.

Then, just as you part your lips to ask why he's here, he speaks.

"Tell me I was seeing things."

His voice comes quiet, whispered and pleading as his brows knead up with a shaky sort of pull.

"What?" you can only ask, his breath hot against your face, close and feeling like it won't be moving anytime soon.

"Tell me..." he starts again, repeating without hesitation, "that I was just seeing things."

When you furrow your brows back at him, he continues, almost desperately.

"That you weren't... that you weren't looking at him for a second like..."—his face scrunches up, expression pained, like you've just gone and hit him with an axe—"like you believed him."

"Tim, I—"

You don't know what to say, not when he looks at you like that, like you've just shattered his whole entire world right in front of him.

"Like..." Tim continues, and the next words he has to really push out, wincing like it hurts just to say, "like he's actually your boyfriend."

Your stomach drops, insides churning as Tim's fingers curl against your counter with an audible scratch.

"You know he's not, right..?" he whispers, like not even he's sure. "That he's just a stranger?"

You furrow your brows, gulping down saliva and steeling yourself. "Of course I know."

But it's like Tim doesn't even hear you.

"He doesn't love you. He doesn't even know you."

You narrow your eyes, going to respond when he beats you to it again.

"Not like I do," he continues, and your words die on your tongue, eyes going a tad wider as he leans in just a bit closer. "Not like I've done for years."

Whether he's talking about knowing you or loving you, you're not sure.

And you continue to be unsure as he softly reaches for your dominant hand, gripping the back of it like he's afraid that if he lets go, you'll slip from him entirely.

The next thing you know, your hand is cradling his cheek, and he's holding it there, allowing your warmth to bleed into his skin as he looks at you with those wide, shaking eyes you seem to be on the receiving end of quite often these days.

"Tell me," he begs—lips wobbling, brows knitting, expression pleading.

And you don't think you can even if you wanted to, mouth too dry and head too empty to even voice a clear thought as he moves to slip his free hand around your waist and pull you closer.

"Please."

You think you're only able to snap out of it when you're just a breath away from his lips, just a hair from touching them with your own as he drills into you with those wide, shaking, desperate blue eyes of his.

And once you do snap out of it, once everything becomes just a little too much, you place a hand firm against his chest, whispering his name with a small, light push.

His grip around you tightens for a second, eyes glazing over, but before they can stay that way, before he can do something without a lick of sense or reason, they clear up again, and he slips his hands from your waist, letting you part from him as his arms fall to hang limply by his sides.

And when you move to further part from him and the room, you pretend not to hear the loud bang against your kitchen counter.

So much for a drink.

TAGLIST: @silas-222, @bloofairyfox, @wiseavenuelove, @inkycapps, @velovicy, @mmentallyelsewhere, @verysynical, @1abi, @bluepartywobblernickel, @krys0210, @patatasolitaria, @mazixxss, @nova916, @federalprison78-4, @crissy09yesso, @minhyrin, @nutella-hitler, @kvzutora, @starslightzz, @alishii, @crybabyghostie, @jsprien213, @cupid73, @doggyteam2028, @invinciblewaffles, @love-theangel, @butterbiscuit444, @thecrazyone2007, @reaperxdeath, @mexxs-xs, @gaychaosgremlin, @pookiei-bookie

[enhaeil]

ICE ! ☆ 박종성

"pull up, she been purring like a kitten preyin' your love. i've been counting on the days you been gone a little too long..."

ice - kelly rowland

devine masculine energy with jay ! ⋆.˚✮

c/w: accidental daddy kink. smut near the end. dominant jay but in a good way

you never thought you'd be into the whole 'daddy' thing until you met jay.

not because he likes it or because he asked you to, but because of who he is.

he's such an 'i got it' guy.

☆ you were at the register of your favorite café, fumbling through your purse to get your wallet. before you could find it, he's already behind you, tapping his card in silence like that's what he was made to do. "next time, just tell me baby, i'll handle it."

or

☆ you're overwhelmed. tired. baby crying. dishes pilled up. when he comes home, he sees how distressed you are and wordlessly takes over, putting on his dish washing gloves. "go lay down. i got it." he says, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

before you know it, a quiet "thank you, daddy." falls from your lips.

—✩ ₊˚

he just really loves taking care of you. it makes him happy when his girl is happy.

☆ you lay in bed, half-asleep and groggy, when he comes back from running errands. he has sweats and hoodie on, yet still looking yummy as ever.

"hey, baby," he says, pressing a kiss to your lips. "i got the cereal you asked for, by the way." he tells you as he takes his sweater off.

"jay ... you didn't have to go grocery shopping for me babe, i had it." you say as you open your arms for him to crawl back into bed.

"of course you had it, but then what am i here for!"

or

☆ you mentioned a meal you were craving a few days ago. you forgot about it, jay didn't.

you come home from work to the smell of food and soft rock playing. you see your husband with a 'kiss the cook' apron on, focused on setting the table.

"i just wanted you to come home to something good."

when you tell him he didn't have to, he rebuttals saying that he "wanted to."

—✩ ₊˚

leadership, without control. he would never force you or make you do anything. you're an adult. but the way he speaks to you ... makes you want to obey.

☆ he never raises his voice. and he'd most definitely never lay a harmful finger on you. but one glance and a "come here" has you moving before your brain could process. he doesn't say anything that doesn't have to be said. a simple "try that again" and you're apologizing with your eyes.

—✩ ₊˚

he does know that you're human and will get moody or even angry with him at times. that's okay, you don't have to be soft with him all the time.

☆ you had a bit of an attitude, and you admit, you don't even remember what about, but you had one.

jay sits on the bed watching you huff around the room, purposely slamming a drawer extra hard. "you done, baby?"

you shoot him a glare, one that would probably kill anyone else, but not him. he moves from his spot on the bed, stepping closer to you, eyes still soft as ever. "get it out your system, i'll be here when you're done." you can't deny the way your heart softens.

or

☆ you really are mad at him, which leads you to giving him the cold shoulder all night.

"i'm sorry for what I did love, but can you at least talk to me so I can fix it?" he says, sitting across from you on the couch.

you remain silent, pretending to be locked in on your book.

"okay, be mad. when you want to talk, just let me know."

—✩ ₊˚ smut ahead

in the sheets, he never asks you to say it. you just do. he's not performative, he's just doing you in that good.

☆ you're underneath him, barely holding on. his strokes deep and slow, like he knows every nerve inside of you personally. (he basically does.)

"look at me, baby." and you do, or at least try your best with the way he's hitting it. he's so calm, not rushed, completely focused on pleasuring you like it's his purpose.

his rhythm is unforgivingly perfect, causing your head to tilt back as your back arches.

he grabs your chin, not to control you, but to anchor you. "don't hide from me. you feel that? you feel me right there?" he says, tilting his hips just right.

"fuck, yes daddy .." it slips out . not intentional, not to exaggerate like pornstars do, but because it feels right.

his breath catches, once like it does every time, but he doesn't stop. he smiles before leaning in. "that's what i thought."

after that, he doubles down, not going any rougher, but deeper, slower, more possessive, like he's claiming a spot inside of you. like he's reminding you that you're safe, and you don't need to think, just feel.

—✩ ₊˚

of course, aftercare is A1.

☆ you lay there, breatheless, limbs feeling like noodles. but jay is not in a rush. "you okay?" he asks, voice hoarse, the kind of voice that let's you know he felt it too.

"you did so good, so sweet for me."

he gets up, still within the eye's view as he grabs you a warm towel and bottle out of the mini fridge. "c'mere, i got you." there it is again.

when you fall asleep in his arms, jay doesn't move, not even when his arms go numb. it's worth it.

—✩ ₊˚

jay wears the title of being "your man" with pride. he loves being yours, as much as he loves you being his.

☆ he sits on the couch, scrolling on his phone as you talk on the phone with your sister.

"yea, my man took me there once. it was so fancy, the food is good too!" jay looks up from his phone, suddenly interested in your conversation. when you hang up he scoots closer to you.

"say it again."

"huh?"

"call me that again. your man."

you do, over and over again, until he's dragging you to the bedroom. because jay is your man, who doesn't just want to love you, but wants the world to know he's the only man who gets to.

a/n: ive been thinking this 4ever ive never been into the whole daddy kink thing but sumn abt jay mane IF I CATCH HIM ITS ON. also I SWEAR IM FINISHIN Y'ALL REQUESTS.

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

i'm too proud to talk to you anyway !

synopsis : but if you do, don't you know, that i don't mind...

an. im pretty sure this is the first time ive ever written non bf katsuki/ non childhood friend suki ever...im going thru withdrawal eugh...n e wayss! i thought this was a cute silly concept and i hope i did well ! hope yall enjoy :3

cw. nothing i think ! fluff, forced proximity i think ? katsuki's a potty mouth but..it's katsuki, reader is a sweetie, reader says thank you and sorry a lot so i mightve been projecting a bit sorry twins lolol :P, katsuki is referred to as bkg and it hurts my heart..like thats my man we aint casual </3 katsuki is lowkey pining but unaware and in denial, reader is in the bksquad ! lmk if i missed sum else !

shit, shit, shit. you were this close.

you pant and groan in annoyance, seeing your train about to depart just as you arrived at the terminal.

shit, you knew you shouldn't have slept in !

you loved taking this train because it never got too full. sure, there were always people commuting early but you had the luxury of not being squished to death in a train that, by the time you got to school, resembled a can of sardines.

you could make it, you were a hero-in-training ! you'd built up your stamina for moments like this...probably ! definitely !

so you continue running with all your strength, you don't think you'd ever run this fast just to catch a train in your life, but you remember what happened to kaminari when he ended up late during mr. aizawa's morning class and you'd rather not have to run extra laps.

so you run, and before you can reach for the doors, an arm stops them from closing just in time for you to jump in.

thanking everything that was holy, you jump in ready, to profusely thank your saviour. but you stop short when you realise who had saved you.

one of your classmates, bakugou katsuki.

"oh." you can't stop yourself from releasing the sound when you see him, but manage to fix your face and offer him a smile.

bakugou squints at you, scoffing before looking away.

well, you'd expected something like this.

you didn't talk to bakugou much. you'd always found him and his quirk amazing, especially during training, and he was actually a really good sparring partner. he took you seriously and he was more clever then you thought he was.(with the way he was always rushing into fights head first)

he also gave you a semblance of advice one time, at least you think so...there was definitely some type of advice hidden in between all that cursing.

but he was objectively quite the asshole.

the only reason you even started hanging out was because kirishima liked to invite him to hang out with you all during lunch. sometimes he tagged along, and sometimes he told him to fuck off. but kirishima always being determined and naturally friendly never stopped asking him. you assume that's why he'd been coming along with you guys more often now. guess nobody could resist the boy's manly charm.

and yeah, he was a dick. but you had to admit his quips and his back and forth with sero was pretty funny. the problem was that you have a feeling he doesn't like you. you specifically, for a reason you're unaware of.

you'd never been rude to him, not even teasing him as much as the rest of your friend group did (watching him blow up was always funnier anyway) but despite that it just seemed like he couldn't tolerate being around you for some reason. he always keeps his responses short and snippy, never even looking your way when you tried to strike conversation.

kirishima had told you once he was probably "just awkward, he's just that kinda guy ! maybe he's just too shy talk to you !" which you highly doubted but decided to keep your mouth shut.

you won't force conversation with him, you had no obligation to. but you do feel thankful that he hadn't let you embarrass yourself. and you really wanna thank him.

it takes you a few minutes to catch your breath, and three stops to find the courage to actually talk to him. but before you can open your mouth again, a huge group of people storm into the train, leaving you to gasp in surprise.

what the hell ? there aren't supposed to be so many people here, at least not in your sacred train !! what was going on ?!

to your utter dismay and irritation, you're being pushed and shoved around for other people to claim their places, growing more annoyed at the people shoving and insisting their was space and telling others to "please move along!"

"fucking hell..." you mutter, irritated.

"could fuckin' say that again."

you look up to see bakugou looking ahead at nothing. his scowl is ever present, if not harsher, and he grunts when he feels someone shove his shoulder, shoving them back with a growl. must be nice having balls of steel.

"oh, woops. sorry.." you apologise, trying your very best not to press up against him too much. despite the train crowding more and more.

"whatever. just stop squirming."

"it's not like i'm doing it on purpose !" you hiss defensively. bakugou rolls his eyes, but remains quiet.

you feel an arm in you rib and instinctively lean away, thus closer to bakugou. his eyes flit down towards you, but again, he says nothing.

"ugh—uhm, thank you—for this morning." you whisper, you're close enough where you're sure he can hear you. "you really saved me back there." you joke.

bakugou doesn't miss a beat, looking down at you with an eyebrow raised "yeah well. guess i felt nice for a change and didn't want you to embarrass yourself, running after the train like an idiot."

your face warms and you furrow your brows 'i was gonna make it."

he huffs out a laugh, you think this is the first time you've seen him do anything but frown. "sure, keep telling yourself that."

suddenly, the train comes to an abrupt halt. causing passengers to exclaim and jolt around, one such passenger bumps against you, shoving you forward. you trip, landing straight against bakugou's chest. your nose hurts as soon as you make contact. you'd seen how ripped this guy was, but was he genuinely made out of fucking stone ?!

your eyes snap open when an arm—his arm, wraps around your shoulder to stabilise you, he mutters curses under his breath towards the train constructor. he smells nice. you brace yourself against his chest.

"watch it, dumbass." he warns lowly. his voice quivers just a bit, like he's holding something back.

"...sorry. my bad." you squeak. the next time the train comes to a halt, you practically jump away from each other, avoiding looking each other in the eye while still being forced so close. you do notice the way that bakugou's arm stays behind your shoulder just a little bit longer. you notice but pretend you don't. looking up at him through the corner of your eye you see the way his jaw is set tight. you quickly look away.

(you don't notice him looking at you.)

after a certain stop, the train finally empties out. you take a deep breath, giving bakugou one last glance before finding a free spot to sit and finally relax your shoulders.

you jump when bakugou sits in the spot beside yours. there weren't that many left open, but there were definitely still way more free spots away from you.

"thanks, again." you mutter, avoiding eye contact.

bakugou grits his teeth, groaning like you saying those words pained him. or irritated him (or both.)

"stop thanking me, just didn't wanna get knocked over. fuckin' bastards fell limp like a stack of dominoes.."

his response makes you snorts unexpectedly, "yeah, it's usually not this full."

"s'cus the previous train got cancelled. somethin' about an accident." your classmate explains.

you blink in surprise, was bakugou—your most explosive antisocial classmate—actually having a genuine conversation with you ?!

and suddenly you can't think of anything else to say besides "oh, makes sense."

"well, anyway...even if you didn't mean to, i'm glad. means i won't have to get crucified by mr. aizawa for being late.."

bakugou scoffs, but it sounds almost like a disguised laugh.

the announcer calls for the next stop, two more stops and you'll get off.

then, a lightbulb.

"oh, hey. i didn't know you took this train too ! i've never seen you."

bakugou doesn't look at you, squinting at himself through the opposite window, his leg bounces.

"usually sit in the front."

you raise an eyebrow "what made you come to the back ?"

"q-quit questioning me, dammit ! your ass should be grateful i was even in the back so you didn't fuckin' slice your hand off !"

now this was more like the bakugou you were familiar with, and for some reason this puts you at ease. you laugh at his defensiveness, and bakugou visibly un-tenses. he leans back and rests his head into his palm, muttering about you being "so damn weird..."

you manage to arrive to school without any further hiccups. and despite bakugou not actively making conversation with you, his strides almost match yours, like he wants you to catch up to him. and even though he barely gives you a nod when you wave at him later in between classes, you feel like you've gotten closer to him somehow. anyway, you're just glad to know he doesn't despise you.

when kirishima invites him to hang out during lunch today and you and your other friends wait for a response from him, some of your friends egging him on, you catch the way his eyes meet yours before he reluctantly agrees, calling your friends "fuckin' clingy".

he sits next to you during lunch.

kaminari whines about it, saying something about how he stole his spot.

"you snooze you fuckin' lose, dunce face." bakugou quips, causing your table to laugh.

unbeknownst to you, bakugou wonders why he'd decided to agree to hang out with you all more and more often lately. you and your lame ass friends had become a constant nuisance in his life. especially you.

ever since he'd noticed you, really noticed you and your strength when you'd paired up with him during training, you'd always been hanging in the back of his mind. your voice was always the first one he heard in crowds, your face was always the one he just so happened to look for see first, and your stupid perfume seemed to cling to him everywhere he went, ultimately always leading him to you.

shit, you were really fucking annoying.

unbeknownst to you, bakugou wonders why he decided to sit in the back as well.

cashmoneyyystuff © 2025. hey, this is my stuff ! please don't copy or modify it, that's very weird and lame and i'll cry. if you want to take inspiration from one of my works, just let me know or mention me in your post <3

( taglist ! )

@jastoo46 @cecelia77 @erenstitanweave @closehereyes @stoned-anime-babe @taxavoider @yannvi @sugurusmoon @allurearia @kaerotica @wonubby @cupidsblonde @catsoupki @ita606 @andysdrafts @omitea @lili-of-the-vally @serpent-hearted @ghostorchidd @shewki @pirana10 @witch-craft-works @kanvis @okkotsuus @dragonscribble @emmiesarchive @screaming-dough @napbatata @cacaandweewizzsstuff @redollface @meowsannie @katszumi @m-inluv @monchurie @the-hangry-otter @starlostlaiba @moonshuul @katsus-mistress @dondeh-zedonutqueen @liluvtojineteyam @aspiringwriter1111 @redvelvetstan1 @niktwazny303 @nemisimp @kit-katsukii @alphasage @milktea-academia @qyuin @bakugouswaif @themultifandomgirl @icey-wonders

[nephynes]

afab reader finding out boyfriend!jake has a huge dick (fulfill my fantasy please)

fantasy fulfilled!

MDNI

══════════════════════════

You're giggling into Jake's shoulder, the both of you tangled up in his sheets, half-dressed and entirely wrapped in each other. It's warm, safe, and so stupidly comfortable that you almost forget you're in someone else's bed and not in your own.

He made some dumb joke about your favorite romcom, and you shoved at him with a mock glare before collapsing back against his chest.

"God, you're annoying," you laugh breathlessly.

Jake grins, flushed from how close you are. "Am I really?" You roll your eyes, shifting to sit up a little, using your hand to push yourself up by his thigh.

Jake flinches, groaning sharply as your hand lands squarely on something very much not muscle or bone. You freeze. He slaps his forearm over his face like he's embarrassed and laughing all at once.

"Fuck—ow," he winces with a strangled chuckle.

Your eyes widen, your face heating up fast. "Oh my god—Jake, I'm so sorry, I thought—I thought that was your thigh!"

He's still wheezing under his arm, teeth sunk into his bottom lip like he's trying to hold it together. "It wasn't, baby," he mumbles, peeking at you through a grin that's somehow both smug and bashful. "Definitely not my thigh."

You're still hovering over him, hand clutched to your chest, mortified. "Wait... but—" You glance down, then back at him. "Jake. That was like—halfway to your knee."

Jake groans again and lets his head fall back against the pillow, arms thrown out like he's giving up. "I didn't want to freak you out," he says, quieter now. "We've been taking it slow, and I didn't... I don't know. I like you. A lot. I didn't wanna rush you or scare you away."

You blink, lips parting slightly. "You were worried your dick would scare me off?"

He nods, a little sheepish. "Deadass."

You bite your lip, trying not to laugh because he's being honest, but you're still mildly in shock. "Jake. You've made me cum with your fingers. Twice. You think I'm gonna run away over your dick?"

"I didn't know!" He lifts his hands in surrender. "You're so sweet and soft and perfect, and I didn't want to be the guy who—who whips it out and ruins everything. I meant it when I said I don't care if we have sex or not. I just like being with you."

Your heart twists a little at that, warm and fond. You reach out and touch his cheek gently. "I'm not going anywhere, Jake." He leans into your touch like it soothes something deep. "Yeah?"

You smile. "Yeah. Also..." You tilt your head playfully. "Now I'm kinda curious."

Jake groans again, dragging a pillow over his face. "Lord have mercy." You stare at him with wide eyes, one hand tentatively cupping him over his sweatpants, and the outline alone has your head spinning.

"Jake," you whine, your voice pitching higher with disbelief. "It's not fair. You've been hiding this from me."

He's propped up on his elbows now, looking absolutely wrecked already just from the way you're touching him. His chest is rising and falling faster, and the flush on his cheeks runs straight down his neck.

"I wasn't hiding it," he breathes. "I was trying to be good."

"But I wanna see it," you say, tugging at the waistband of both his sweatpants and briefs. "Please?"

Jake lets out a choked sound and lifts his hips just enough for you to slide them down. You weren't even trying to tease, but the second he springs free, your breath catches audibly. Your hand wraps around the base, then your other joins—and there's still length left over. You look up at him, slack-jawed.

"Jake."

"I know," he whispers, voice wrecked.

"I can't even..." You try to close your fingers over it, both hands working slowly. "My hands don't fit. How am I supposed to—"

Jake's watching you like he's starving, his eyes heavy-lidded and fixed on your mouth as you lean closer like you're going to try. But then he cuts in with a voice so low it makes your stomach flutter.

"Sit on it."

You blink up at him. "W-What?"

He reaches out and strokes your cheek, guiding your face up so you're looking at him fully. His touch is gentle, but his voice is firm. "C'mere, baby. Sit on it. Let me feel you."

Your entire body lights up. It's not like this was the plan, but the way he says it, like he's offering you the sun and begging you to take it, it has you trembling a little as you climb into his lap.

"Are you sure?" you ask, fingers clutching at his shoulders. Jake groans, one hand gripping your waist, the other slipping down to cup you through your panties. "I've never been more sure of anything in my life."

And when he slides them aside and runs two fingers along your folds, the heat in his gaze turns molten. "You're so wet already," he mutters, kissing your throat. "Fuck, baby, you're gonna take me so good."

You whimper when the tip of him nudges at your entrance, your thighs shaking as you start to sink down. You're halfway down and already shaking, nails digging into his shoulders as your thighs tremble around his hips. "Jake—" you gasp, breath catching. "It's—it's too much—"

He cups the back of your head and presses his forehead to yours, voice strained and low. "You can take it, baby. Just breathe for me." You do—shaky, shallow little breaths, but it barely helps. Every inch of him stretches you wider than you've ever felt, your walls fluttering around the thick pressure of him splitting you open.

"Fuck," he groans, hips barely rocking up into you. "You feel so tight baby, like your pussy's never been touched before." "Gonna flip you over, okay?"

Tears prick at the corners of your eyes as he does so, pushing in deeper, slow but relentless, like he's determined to mold your body to fit him. You cling to him helplessly, whimpering when the head of his cock nudges something that makes your stomach flip.

"Look at me," he murmurs, brushing your hair back, gaze dark and wild. "Gonna stretch this sweet little pussy out, yeah? Make it fit me. Make it mine."

You nod fast, lips parted and teary-eyed, and he groans at the sight, gripping your hips harder. "So fuckin' small," he breathes. "So damn tight. Can feel every twitch—baby, you're squeezing me like you don't wanna let me in."

You cry out when he shifts his hips and finally sinks the last few inches, fully seated inside you. You're trembling all over, overwhelmed and breathless.

"There," Jake hisses, jaw clenched as he holds still, trying not to lose it. "Fuck, you did it. You took all of me. Knew you could." He starts moving, in short shallow thrusts.

"Fucking perfect," Jake snarls against your throat, one hand fisting your hair while the other bruises your hip. "So tight—squeezing me like you were made for it. You were, weren't you? Made to take this cock."

You can barely nod, tears on your cheeks, your moans coming out broken as he thrusts into you—deep and filthy, every snap of his hips knocking the breath from your lungs.

"Look at you," he groans, watching the way your tits bounce with every rough stroke. "So fucking pretty when you cry—so fuckin' good for me. Bet your pussy's never been stretched like this. It hasn’t right? I’m the biggest you’ve ever had? Gonna keep you stuffed until you can't even walk straight."

And the way he has you pinned down, fucking into you like he's starved, you know he means it. Jake's obsessed—wrecked. And now that he's had you like this, he's not stopping until you've cum on him again and again and again.

You're not just his favorite, you’re his new addiction.

And he's gonna ruin you for hours.

══════════════════════════

• a/n: spent the whole day working on velvet vice and writing hard thoughts, i need a sunghoon req next please.

[redrage71890]

Backing Voice (Yan! KPDH x Fem! MC) Part 4

Synopsis: Sorting out ways to help Rumi's voice one day leads to the discovery of an emerging demon boy band. Their song hypnotic as they hastily gain fans all around. HUNTR/X being less than happy with the results.

Genres: Fluff, Angst, Slow Burn, Yandere

CW: None

Prologue, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5

Word Count: 3.6k A/N: Hi I took a break and might have forgotten a few plot points whilst forgetting to write them down before hand :D

————————————————————

"Girls! *huff* I'm sorry I'm late! I got caught up with someone..."

Bursting through the door of the empty restaurant (Y/N) apologises first without thinking. Seeing the three girls at a small table as they long forget their food.

Zoey and Mira gleams seeing the (f/c)nette, though Rumi looks more surprised. "(Y/N)! You made it." Zoey waves at her as the manager awkwardly waves back, taking a seat in between Mira and Rumi.

"Again, I'm sorry..."

"Hey. Its alright. We haven't really started eating anyway."

"No. Its not only that. What happened during rehearsals, I didn't mean to sound mean o-or dismissive of you girls. Its just stress for me. But! I p-promise I'll be better and I'll be there to back you girls up no matter what."

(Y/N) puts on a confident smile for the girls, a fluttering sensation flowing through their hearts at the rare sight. Zoey breaks the silence by giggling at the feeling in her chest. (Y/N) not particular sure why the black-nette started giggling but joined her nonetheless.

"But. Back to before." Cutting off their giggles with a more serious expression. "I'll be honest here, its going to be hard to reschedule the live show because of the sudden cancellation."

"We got that impression from Bobby earlier..." Mira states.

"I...I'm sorry guys. My voice, its in trouble."

'Trouble? That's new.'

"Wait, in trouble? Then why did you push up the 'Golden' release?"

"Because we're so close, and its so important." Rumi states. But her tone and words made (Y/N) curiously think more.

'So close?'

"Okay, how do we handle this? What do we tell the fans? Maybe we should call Celine?"

"I don't advice that. We know what she'd say."

"Oh, right."

"We are hunters. Voices strong. Your faults and fears must never be seen."

Zoey and Mira reciting what their predecessor echoed at them. (Y/N) furrowed her brows at the phrase.

Her and her mother were never one to follow that motto. Mother in particular despising it. It being forced upon her as she tried to hide all her faults to the point of breakdowns and frustration. It always made her searing patterns appear.

"Rumi, why don't we take a break? We'll skip the Idol Awards this year and-"

"No. No way. Its our most important show. Its when we strengthen the honmoon for the entire year. We can't skip it. We just can't. Not when I'm so close."

‘Close to what? You’re not telling us something Rumi. Though….isn’t that ironic…’

What’s (Y/N) to say about secrets when she herself hasn’t been completely honest. But when has anyone ever been completely transparent. It’s not like every secret needs to be spilled just because someone wants to know. We have a right to keep things to ourselves.

Though in this case, Rumi’s secret might become a massive headache for them.

”Hey, we’ll get through this. We can get through anything. Together.” Zoey’s encouragement bringing on a slightly more relaxed expression on Rumi.

”Okay. We have two weeks to fix Rumi’s voice. Any ideas?”

”I do have one idea.”

”Just one?”

“Shoot, Zoey.”

”Okay, actually, 57, but let’s start with my favourite. Don’t worry. It’s totally legit.”

Shrugging her shoulders and leaning on her elbow against the table, (Y/N) watches the girls listen to Zoey explaining some of her ideas.

She won’t outright say it in the moment, but some of these ideas boarded along the lines of obvious scams and false promises. As much as Zoey at times annoyed (Y/N), she didn’t have the heart to tell her the likely truths.

“(Y/N), why aren’t you eating? We ordered plenty for you.” Zoey questions their manager. “O-Oh, right. Sorry I’ve been a bit lost in thought recently.” Brushing off their stares she picks up her utensils and began digging into her food.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Mira asks with a more worried frown. Zoey and Rumi holding similar expressions with more concern.

Seeing as she can’t get herself out of this conversation, she just sighed and stopped eating. “(Sigh) I’m not getting away from this, am I?” Averting her gaze up to meet the three sets of eyes on her. “Okay then. I….had another….one of my episodes. Right when Rumi left rehearsals...”

Uttering those words, the hunters all clung to her body in a tight yet comforting hug. It’s not been the first time this happened. Well. More like the third time this happened.

The first time was after their debut, a quite public breakdown occurred back stage. It was embarrassing to be seen by the staff. Her mother was the one that told the girls of her anxiety attacks.

The second was right before the tour started. The sheer amount of organising, meetings and calls she did was breaking her mind out of pure exhaustion. The girls found her hyperventilating in the bathroom on the dirty tiles with her attempted eyeliner dripping down her face.

And now, marks the third time.

Well, they technically weren’t there for this one.

A private meltdown with no one to hear or comfort her.

"Never apologise for experiencing that. We should be sorry for not being there for you." Mira gently pats her (f/c) hair.

"Please don't be afraid to come for us! We will always be there for you!" Zoey cries out clinging to her back.

"Yes, (Y/N). Let us know if anything troubles you. We'll do anything to help in anyway!" Rumi adds hugging her side.

The three hunters felt guilty for there actions. Not being there for (Y/N) hurt them. They hate seeing her so stressed. The girls really wish their lovely manager would confined in them more.

Unfortunately though, their said manager just really needed a breath of fresh air that's currently being crushed out of her lungs.

"G-Guys....y-you can let go n-now..."

————————————————————

After a big hugging session putting the four of them to sleep, the girls dressed in their best disguises and went out in the streets of Seoul. (Y/N) was glad she managed to sleep for a whole night for once. But she still wished she slept in her own bed and not on the couch with the girls.

Donning her classic baggy attire but with a cap obscuring her eyes. Ignoring the face mask as she got the feeling it wasn't necessary. Though she also remembered Jinu and his buddies putting on a show today. Just before leaving she stuffed the flyer in her pockets as a reminder.

But as of now, she follows the girls to make sure this guy Zoey recommends doesn't do anything.

Though hearing what Zoey is saying makes her want to divert them away as fast as possible.

"He's got this special tonic. Apparently, it can heal anything from sore throats to relationship problems."

'Oh you don't say!'

"Ssh! Quietly, Zoey."

"Why are there so many people today?"

(Y/N) noted how populated the area is at the moment. Of course the girls are worried about being seen and finding their disguises online. Our girl especially would rather not be seen on any post.

"Down that alleyway."

Diverging their path from the busy streets, they stood at the foot of an old hanok building refurnished to a clinic with an LED sign with the name 'Han 의원'.

'Yeah... this seems totally legit...'

"Yep, about as legit as I expected."

"Glad to know I'm not the only one thinking that." Mira smiles her way unknowingly.

"Earth and herby. Smells legit to me."

"Yay! That's the spirit! 가자 가자 가자!"

"Hurry, before someone sees us."

Entering the building the girls are greeted with the appearance of a usual doctors front desk/office. Though catching the eyes of our manager and Rumi was a wall lined with numerous signed framed pictures of the doctor and what appears to be celebrities. Seemingly other idols.

Though one picture caught her eye.

A group of four boys giving each other a back hug whilst leaning on the others shoulders, with the doctor strangely at one side gesturing to them. Those faces were oddly familiar.

Dragging her out of her head was the sound of the doctor entering. Standing up to bow and greet the doctor as he urges them to sit.

"You need no introduction. So, a problem with your voice."

"Yes. So we need one of your awesome tonics. Something that will work super fast."

"Okay, let me see."

(Y/N) automatically knew they guy ain't legit. Not bothering to do a proper examination of her throat and instead just staring at her with bulged out eyes.

"I see. I see.... No. Actually, I don't see. Very strange. You have lots of walls up."

"Whoa! He's so good, right?"

"I dunno about that Zoey..." Muttering to herself while messaging her temples.

Rumi scoffs at the comment but Mira quickly affirms that she indeed, does. Denial is not exactly on her side today.

"I'm just trying to stay focused."

"Focus is good, but focusing on one part leads to ignoring other parts, making you separated, isolated."

Her brows raised at the observation. Her own experience agrees with the statement. Mira and Zoey quickly agreeing with the doctor and stating their own views of the sometimes emotionally closed off workaholic known as Rumi. Their leader.

'This does not feel like a doctors appointment. If anything, its just a guy stating out obvious traits and iss-'

"Quiet, yet vocal. A mind racing with thoughts unheard. Silenced by those around, only eager for something else."

She didn't realise the doctor was pointedly staring at her.

"W-What?"

"Yeah, what are saying to our dear manager!" Zoey exclaims clinging onto her side.

"Z-Zoey. Its fine. P-Please let go." She asks of the eager girl, the said giving her some sparkly puppy eyes before letting go.

"How does this help me get my voice back?"

"As I said, to treat the part, we must understand the whole."

"(Groan) That's great, but I thought we were here just for your tonics."

"Just give us the voice juice."

————————————————————

Whilst the girls were waiting for the tonics, (Y/N) decided to wait outside for them. She trusts them enough to get the tonics, as much as she isn't fond of them.

That picture on the wall seemed oddly familiar.

'Where have I seen those boys from...'

With her time as a manager for HUNTR/X, she's seen and met a fair share of trainees and idols. Perhaps that is why they seemed familiar. But even then, nothing noteworthy comes up when she saw their faces. Man she wishes she could remember where she saw these guys.

Shaking her head to try and ward off these strangely curious thoughts.

'This shouldn't be occupying my brain as much as it should. I should be thinking about another song to sing for tomorrow night, I have another pacifying to d-'

"Oof!"

"Sorry, are you alright?"

So caught up in her mind that she ended up wandering out of the alleyway. Clashing bodies with a strong built guy and falling to her knees by accident.

"Y-Yeah, I'm f-fin- Oh. You're the guys I saw with Jinu last night." Meeting the familiar short pink haired friend of Jinu. The said male had his eyes widen slightly before turning down back to normal. A glint of mischief in his eyes with a thought.

"We never fully introduced ourselves, I'm called Abby." Bowing his head slightly as a greeting whilst helping her up.

"I'm Romance, Jinu mentioned me last time we saw each other." The longer pink haired male comes up from behind and leans on Abby's shoulder.

"I remember that."

"The one pouting behind me is our maknae, Baby Saja. And the last with the long fringe is Mystery." The mentioned maknae side-eyed Romance from his confirmed pouting face.

(Y/N) felt a chin resting on her shoulder, feeling the fluffy silver grey hair of Mystery tickling her face and neck. His close contact sent an uncomfortable shiver down her spine. Glancing her gaze down slightly, she can see the slight run-through of purple patterns across his exposed face, a quick reminder on what they are really.

Moving her shoulders up forces Mystery off with a sad pout on his face from the action.

"Well, its nice to meet you guys. Aren't you performing today?" She questions with a shiver to her body, still uncomfortable with Mystery's strange 'greeting' to her.

"Why yes, we are. Are you sticking around to watch us?" Romance asks with a flirtatious wink.

(Y/N) already decided she was going to watch them, purely to see what kind of concept her and HUNTR/X are working against. Though the pastel clothing was enough to tell her. Now its a matter of curiosity.

Shrugging her shoulders while stuffing her hands in her pockets. "I don't see why not. I'm actually also waiting for some friends, so I may as well kill some time."

"I'm so glad to hear that!"

Turning up her attention she sees Jinu pushing past the other boys (who don't look that happy with the action), an excited expression etching onto his face upon seeing her. His presence calming her shivers ever so slightly.

"I'm gonna assume you were organising your stage Jinu?" Crossing her arms and putting on a more professional tone. She may consider Jinu a new friend, but that doesn't mean he's off the hook as a demon yet.

His reason for being on the surface is enough to raise suspicion.

"Your powers would be of great use, considering you guys don't seem to have a manager in sight. (muttering) Even I don't think a company is willing to sign you and debut you the same year, let alone week." Her muttering went under their ears, replaced with shocked expressions to hear that she knows of their faces behind the disguises.

Jinu awkwardly chuckles, sort of amused by her bluntness, but is still heavily questioning how she knows this. "(chuckle) You have no fear in what we are, do you?" Leaning closer to her ear, his voice sending another nervous shiver through her body.

Taking a short breath in before leaning closer to his ear. "Why would I fear someone who doesn't hold such malice in his eyes."

The male had a thrilling shiver go up his spine. Not only from the proximity, but the words from her quiet melodic voice.

"I only see shame and guilt."

————————————————————

"WHERE DID (Y/N) GO?!"

"I DON'T KNOW?!"

The three girls were panicking upon coming out of the clinic, their box of tonics in hand. They were cheering about helping Rumi's voice, but stopped when they couldn't find their dear manager.

"Did anyone find where she went?"

"No?! We were inside for honmoon's sake!"

"Oh no! She might have been taken by demons! No she must be so lonely and-"

"What is going on?!"

Swerving their head around, they see (Y/N) with a confused face seeing their panicked state.

"My god...I thought you guys found a dead body or something. There is no need to yell for me, you don't want to be attracting ANY attention. Right?"

Her firm strict tone being a quick reminder of what role (Y/N) has played ever since their debut. A more strict version of Bobby with her hands in the creative process. Even when she wasn't fully comfortable with the girls yet, she still managed to steer them in the right direction when avoiding scandals and demos for songs.

"Y-Yeah...sorry (N/n)." Zoey frowns apologetically.

Sighing to herself like her mother usually does when she breaks a vase.

"You guys are the ones that said you wanted to stay out of sight." Her muttering causes guilty expressions to pull on the girls. "Don't worry about that now. I should be sorry as well, considering I just walked away without an explanation." Forgiving the girls for this is easier than letting it drag on more.

Rumi and Mira were about to provide an explanation for their panic, but their ears were picking up the faint sound of an instrumental beginning to play in the background.

"Wait. What is that?"

Rumi's question urges the girls to pop their heads out of the alleyway. Only to see a strange pink smoke beginning to form near the centre of the busy area. The backing instruments sounding positive and bubbly as it went on.

Adjusting their disguises, they make their way towards the commotion.

"Hey, hey"

"Hey, hey"

"Hey"

Five silhouettes can be made out in the smoke, all striking poses before the pink suddenly disappears to reveal the performers.

"Don't want you, need you"

"Yeah, I need you to fill me up"

"Masigo masyeo bwado"

"Seonge chaji ana"

"Got a feeling that, oh, yeah (Yeah)"

"You could be everything that"

"That I need (Need), taste so sweet (Sweet)"

"Every sip makes me want more, yeah"

"Its those stupid jerks again!" Rumi exclaims. "Wait. You know those guys?" (Y/N)'s confusion evident but is ignored by the sheer number of people gathering around.

"These guys are a boy band?" Another question Rumi exclaims. Irritation growing in her more.

"Lookin like snacks 'cause you got it like that (Woo)"

"Take a big bite, want another bite, yeah"

"Neoui modeun geol nan wonhae, wonhae, wonhae"

"Neo malgon modu pyeonhae, pyeonhae, pyeonhae"

"Whеn you're in my arms, I hold you so tight (So tight)"

"Can't let go, no, no, not tonight"

"That jerk stole one of my pouches!" Recounting her tonics upon seeing Jinu drinking one.

(Y/N) deciding to question later why Jinu decided to intentionally or not, magically send back an ahjumma with a hip thrust.

"Jigeum dangjang nal bwa sigan еopjana"

"Neon naekkeoya imi algo itjana"

"'Cause I need you to need me"

"I'm empty, you feed me so refreshing"

'A drop?'

"My little soda pop"

"You're all I can think of"

"Every drop I drink up"

"You're my soda pop"

"My little soda pop"

"Cool me down, you're so hot"

"Pour me up, I won't stop"

"You're my soda pop"

"My little soda pop"

The chorus infectiously going around the crowd with shoulder movements galore. Bopping their bodies to the earworm worthy song. Not even Zoey or (Y/N) were immune to the rhythm.

As much as Rumi and Mira glare for them to stop, their bodies couldn't deny the contagious beat.

"It is annoyingly catchy, though."

"Its infectious."

Romance and Baby Saja sending out kisses of hearts into the ground, physically knocking out those hit.

"They can make hearts out of thin air?" Mira's questions go unanswered, but (Y/N) can think of ways to reply.

But reflecting in the sunlight, catching the hunters eyes, was the faint purple patterns running through their arms and the hint of gold in their dreamy irises.

"(Gasp) They're demons!"

"Magicians! Demons. Obviously demons."

"My little soda pop"

"Uh, make me wanna flip the top"

"Han mogeume you hit the spot"

"Every little drip and drop, fizz and pop, ah"

"Soreum doda it's gettin' hot"

"Yes, I'm sippin' when it's drippin' now"

"It's done? I need a second round"

"And pour a lot and don't you stop"

"'Til my soda pop fizzles out"

"Dang they're good."

"Incredible. But a demon boy band? Why?"

"I don't care. A demon's a demon. We kill them." Rumi and (Y/N) stops Mira before anything can happen.

"No, its too public."

"Do you want everyone to grill us into being cancelled?"

"What if they try to kill these people?" Mira's reasoning is valid from her perspective. But everything around them says otherwise.

"It doesn't look like they're gonna hurt anyone." Zoey's observation being noted by (Y/N), seeing as the five boys helping out a few people struggling with little things.

"Kkum soge geuryeowatdeon neo"

"Nan jeoldae nochil su eopseo"

"Neol wonhae kkok"

"I waited so long for a taste of soda"

"So, the wait is over, baby"

"Come and fill me up"

"Just can't get enough"

"Oh"

"In fact, it almost seems like they're nice demons?"

"Demons are never nice!"

Seeing the girls rush over to destroy the very things the demons touched. Panic washing over with her usual professionalism masking it. Purchasing another hotdog for the girl with the right amount of sauce and giving the children smaller gifts in replacement for the destroyed ones, giving them all a soft smile in comfort.

'Think before you act, girls.'

"You're all I can think of"

"Every drop I drink up"

"You're my soda pop"

"My little soda pop (Yeah, yeah)"

"Cool me down, you're so hot"

"Pour me up, I won't stop (Oh, oh)"

"You're my soda pop"

"My little soda pop"

The sudden appearance of a stage large soba can was a choice, in (Y/N)'s opinion. But the wave of pastels and illusionary magic is what set her off.

Pushing her way through the crowd to catch up with the girls, she found her way near the front.

'I see what's going on...'

"Ooh, ooh"

"Ooh, ooh"

"You're my soda pop"

"Gotta drink every drop"

Striking their ending poses, Jinu looks down at the crowd, meeting the (f/c) and gold gaze with his brown ones. Smiling softly at her before diverting his attention.

"That's it for now. See you tonight on everyone's favourite variety show. Saja Boys love you!"

The demon boy band disappearing in a puff of smoke.

The three hunters grew more irritated at the easy work the demons have accomplished by just performing once! Determined to end this boy band as fast as possible.

(Y/N) on the other hand had other thoughts.

'Well then, if you want to play like this Jinu, I hope you know what's coming for you.'

*Ding*

Her phone vibrated with the indication of a text message. Opening up her messages to see the new text, reading made a small sigh release from her mouth.

Jinu: Hey (Y/N), lets meet up tonight. I'll meet you at the place we met.

————————————————————

Edit: I took a break and I managed to fall down into my Record of Ragnarok phase again whilst also watching the new Superman movie (really good I recommend). Also if anyone wants to be tagged, pls ask in the recent parts bc it just makes the list a lot easier to find and compile.

Tags: @kitsune-05, @the-bookish-artist, @apelepikozume, @shoopershtar, @ravvilicous, @valeriele3, @vikc, @lasa27, @chipster-321, @greensunflowerjuna, @napbatata, @that-one-girl2020, @tagmepls, @thoughtfulbananaduckcroissant, @minepugs, @crescent-z, @colorfulgardenerduck, @poem-bee, @deityofprocastinating, @0-undead-0, @gremlinartstudio, @jessica-mcd, @strayharmony943, @fruityg0rl, @cherryblossomfox, @aominehaven, @kyxmlii, @ssaischilling, @sweaterkitty-fluff, @historygeekqueen, @satansdaughter123, @theall-seeingone, @nvmkyuu, @amenabii, @julianne1024, @doggyteam2028, @nisarelle, @theall-seeingone, @hi-itsmee28, @celesteelysia, @maritheillusion, @levifiance, @kangsae-byeokfan, @hornehlittleweeblet12, @scara-simp69, @fancyhawk45, @shqyou, @enerofairy, @futuristicdefendorfart, @scentwombatarcade, @eliengoddes, @irethepotato, @sra7riddle-malfoy, @jessica-mcd, @koda-lupinn, @yoursleeparalysisdem0n, @tsukimoon-chan, @ityourguy, @elaemae, @neverending-animelove, @type-ink, @pandafuriousa60, @mazzk1ng, @theall-seeingone, @rorotvt2025

[siriuslylantsov]

hellooo spencer likes his partner's lower back

goes a little lovesick everytime he sees your shirt ride up and expose your back and the curve of your hips YUPPPP

yeahhh he does (mdni, this got a little smutty i couldn't help myself)

he loves when you wear low rise jeans and tshirts that only just reach your waistband because everytime you raise your arms, that sliver of skin peeks out and he feels like a victorian man seeing an ankle for the first time. a little rush that makes him wanna dig his fingers into your hips. he does, coming up behind you and reaching out, prompting you to jolt because he was on the other side of the room 5 seconds ago. 

he’ll often have a hand splayed over the small of your back, selfishly letting it drift lower than considered decent–but how can he help himself, that little dip is so enticing–he relishes in the way you lean into his touch. he very rarely indulges in pda in front of the team, incredibly wary of the potential teasing it could bring up. but that large hand, fixed to the dip of your back, has a constant grounding presence.

spencer reid is, by all means, a missionary man, he likes being able to look at you, meet your equally blissed out gaze, and you feel the same. but every once in a while, when you need the pressure, the feel of him pushing you into the mattress. you turn on your stomach wordlessly and he jumps at the opportunity, all too eagerly. his hands latch on in an instant, pulling you back to meet his thrusts. he traces his fingers from the nape of your neck all the way down to the base of your spine, in a light reverent caress that makes you shiver. a warm palm abruptly pushes you down, causing you to arch beautifully, presenting your lower back to him on a silver platter. a possessive trance passes over him, seeing you sprawled out like that makes him want to grab, to hold, to make something tangible of how he feels. he runs adoring hands over your sides before his thumbs dig into your flesh in a vice-like grip, it doesn't hurt, but you’re sure there’ll be little purple marks tomorrow. 

he notices them the next morning as he untangles himself from your body to stretch, carefully so he doesn't wake you. the light catches on your body when the covers peel off slightly. wide, guilty, eyes stare at the expanse of skin where your his shirt had ridden up through the night. faint red and violet splotches bloomed where his fingers had been. oh no. he slowly pulls you into his arms, back flush to his chest, where he presses an apologetic kiss to your shoulder.

“i'm sorry baby.”

“f’what?” you mumble, drenched in sleep as his voice rouses you.

he rubs a soft hand over your lower back in answer, kissing your shoulder again, he pouts. “you're all bruised up.”

“oh yeah?” you giggle, like you knew they were there even though you haven't seen them for yourself. 

“why didn't you tell me?” he whines, lips pressed to your neck where he had moved the guilt ridden kisses to. 

“i liked it,” you reassure, turning your head to see him. you kiss his nose, all scrunched up in annoyance with himself. “i’m pretty sure you do too.”

he notes your intentional change in tense but he doesn’t mention it, tucking himself back into the crook of your neck as you close your eyes again. his hand drifts down, you do too, his fingers circle around the marred skin. marred by him, it seems. deviously, that guilt fades into something. pride, egged on by you pushing back into his touch. 

he can't even bear to look between your bodies, the image of your lower back marked up by him causing something dark to pool in his belly. it causes something else to stir as well.

he’ll kiss it better later :)