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sugarushwriting · 2 days

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vampire enhypen and you’re their human blood bank (part six!!???!)

jay isn’t happy with your decisions

neither is sunghoon

jake or heeseung

they became possessive over you and refuse to allow you to leave them

straight smut coming this chapter, forewarning. i will not warn anymore after the “keep reading” point. i am not the best at writing smut (jealous of those who can) so please be easy on me!!

next part (?) should not have heavy smut like this one or any at all. didn’t expect this many parts but hi, hello, here we are.

do not repost or translate. but please feel free to reblog, like, and comment! not proof read.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

your leg nervously bounced while you waited in class for the professor to begin. students began whispering wondering why this class was mandatory. the girls were whispering wondering where jay was.

where was he? he made it a whole ordeal that you come to class today and he’s not even here?

the entire class period went by boringly, but the professor did talk about important things. maybe he did need to talk about it to everyone, but no need for it to have been mandatory and worth so many points.

as he dismissed class 10 minutes early, he called you to the podium where he stood.

“yes professor kong?” you asked adjusting your backpack on your shoulder.

“mr park needs to see you in his office. he says it’s about your recent grade.”

you stood frozen, “um, i thought i did okay on that paper?”

“he did too, but he said he found some things and he’s worried about plagiarism?”

“that’s ridiculous! all that work came from me and i made sure to reference correctly.”

the professor shrugged, “i haven’t seen it myself, and i trust mr park.”

well you didn’t. “thank you professor kong.” you nodded politely and walked out the classroom, an immediate ding to your phone notifying you had a text.

jay: come to my office. im watching you. don’t try to hide and run.

you read the text and huffed in annoyance. you looked around for him, but of course, if he didn’t want to be found by you, he wouldn’t.

you made your way to his office in the business building, which was luckily the same building class was held. you took the elevator to the top floor, and made your way to the end of the hallway were his small but cozy office was.

your university gave teaching assistants either their own office or shared office depending on the amount of work they would be doing for the professor. plus teaching assistants were required to hold office hours for extra help for students with a minimum of 2 hours a week. whether it was in person office hours or through zoom.

you raised your fist to knock, but startled when you felt a hot breath on your neck. quickly turning around, you came face to face with jay. your back flat against his door.

he reached beside you, unlocking the door. “go in.”

it wasn’t a question or statement. it was a demand. his tone was hushed, but deep. you recognize his authority tone he usually used on the guys.

you quickly turned back around and walked into his office.

he locked the door behind him, hands in his pocket and made no effort to talk to you.

“professor said you had worries about my paper?” you asked.

jay was behind his desk now, and his brown eyes snapped up from the drawer he was rummaging through. “your paper is fine.”

“but—,”

jays sharp eyes made contact with you and you quickly hushed. his irises were red.

jay grabbed a roll of duct tape and made his way towards you. he ripped off a piece, and when you went to ask what he was doing, he quickly placed it over your lips. again, he said nothing, until you lifted your arms to take off the tape.

“take off that tape and i will turn your ass black and blue.”

his tone was threatening, and even though usually you’d push back, something told you not to this time. you put your hands to your sides, waiting for his next move.

he took your bag off of your shoulder, then next, he taped your hands together in front of you.

he threw the tape off to the side, it clattering to the floor. jay stood in front of you, straight eye contact, pushing your body subtly to his desk, until your butt rested against it.

you’ve never seen jay so quiet. it terrified you to be honest. but you also felt a thrill. is he showing you his dominate side you’ve been asking for? or maybe this is his fed up side with your behavior. you knew you were to be mad at him. and you still was, however, for good sex? you might put it aside just for now.

jay roughly pushed you down on his desk, and put your arms to rest above your head. “move your hands and arms, and you won’t be able to lift them for weeks.”

another threat. you swallowed. jay wasted no time lifting your sweatshirt above your bra, and removing your sweatpants off your legs. without warning, jay slapped your underwear covered pussy—hard. like someone would slap an ass.

you tried to scream, but of course your mouth was covered so it was muffled. jay smirked.

he removed your underwear, throwing them over his shoulder, and pulled your bra down to expose your breast. he took each in one hand, gripping hard, causing pain. another muffled scream.

jay wasn’t being his usual gentle self. and you were thinking this is more than his dominate side.

your arms jerked, and jay raised a brow, waiting for you to move it, but you didn’t.

“good girl.” he praised, and you rolled your head to the side. he clicked his tongue on the root of his mouth, “nope, eyes on me the entire time.”

your head rolled back to meet jays eyes. “good to know you do listen.”

you were surprised when jays fangs extended. your eyes going wide. his kissed your jawline, the tape where your lips would be, and one kiss to you neck. he peppered kisses down your chest before his mouth latched on to a nipple, and you could feel his fangs slightly break skin.

another muffle scream came. he did it to the other breast. then he kissed down your stomach, occasionally scraping his fangs against your skin. your stomach recoiled at the slight touch, because one you were ticklish, second because you were nervous he was going to break skin fully, not just a tease.

he kissed down your body, your left thigh, left leg, then made his way back up your right leg, to your right thigh, stopping just inches away from your core. you could feel his hot breath fanning, and you wiggled a bit. he didn’t move. you whined behind the tape, earning a chuckle from jay.

your eyes closed as you waited for the sensation of his tongue licking your core. you didn’t notice jay was taking his pants and boxers off, stroking his cock twice, aligning himself to your entrance.

he roughly, swiftly, and quickly bottomed out, cause a deep groan of pleasure from his mouth. a loud muffled scream of pain came from your mouth behind the tape.

fuck you wasn’t expecting him to just bottom out like that. usually jay takes his time with slowly entering you. he always makes sure you’re wet enough.

“what a shame, usually you’re dripping for me. this time you’re barely wet.”

if you could talk you would scold him and say it’s because he didn’t give you time! he didn’t prep you!

he knew that. he wanted to bring you pain. a tear slipped from your eye. he didn’t give you time to adjust to his thickness when he started ramming in and out of you, at an unhuman speed and strength, or at least something you weren’t used to. his hands and fingers tightly gripped your thighs to hold you in place. your body rocked against his desk, scared it was going to break.

your eyes rolled to the back of your head, as jay mumbled incoherently under his breath. you couldn’t hear what he was saying, nor did you care.

not until you realized your arms left the place they were supposed to be, and went to wrap around jays neck.

he quickly removed himself, you moaning low from the loss of him, and he lifted you off the desk by pulling you by your taped hands.

“what did i tell you?” he asked through gritted teeth. your eyes went wide and he flipped you on your stomach, the cold surface hitting your bare breasts and stomach. your arms back reaching over your head, gripping the edge of the desk.

jay quickly entered you from behind, this time gripping your ass so tight, you really were gonna be black and blue after this.

all you could do was let muffled sounds escape from the tape as he hammered from behind, landing slaps to your ass.

his cock was reaching into your cervix, and you didn’t know to scream of pain or pleasure. tears now flowing out of your eyes.

your orgasm began building, and with jays sloppy and low sounds leaving his mouth, you knew he was close too.

it didn’t take long for him to come inside you. but just as you were so close, he removed himself and watched his come drip out of you.

you whined. you whined and cried because you were so close to your orgasm and he stopped! that wasnt like jay. he always made sure you orgasmed first, if not, at least made sure you had a successful orgasm.

you banged your fists on his desk in frustration, as his come slowly dripped out of your cunt, down your legs.

you began crying fully, because you just couldn’t control your emotions. your legs bucking, your knees going week. jay emotionless put his boxers and pants back on, lifting you up by your hair, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

“not nice when someone won’t listen to you huh? when they ignore you. when they ignore what you want and your needs.” jay snickered and dropped you back on the desk.

jay went to the other side of his desk, grabbing scissors from his drawer. no further word, he cut the tape from your bound hands, and lifted your chin from the desk, removing the tape—not so gently—from your lips.

but you were too wore out to even complain. you can’t fathom how you were tired. 2 simple positions, but jay used his strength and energy on you. he probably could’ve went harder, faster, but that might’ve killed you.

you lifted yourself on your forearms to look at jay, who still had that lazy smirk on his face. you lifted yourself fully, and when you went to lift your bra, you had to use two hands, but lost balance and fell to the ground. while lying there you lifted your bra to cover yourself again, and pulled down your sweatshirt. you reached over to grab your underwear that was lying on the ground next to you.

“you’re seriously gonna get dressed while lying down?”

you had no energy to even speak. you grabbed your underwear, but couldn’t even bend to put them on your legs.

jay sighed in frustration and disbelief (how dare he, jerk!!) and came to assist you with getting dressed. “good to know you can’t fight back. you’re coming home with me.”

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

jay threw you onto a bed. you couldn’t even focus on who’s bed and room he brought you to. a small sound came from your throat. wasn’t even a full sentence. you said, “thirsty.”

jay nodded and left the bedroom. oh shit were you gonna die of thirst now? your limbs were still weak but you could slightly move. what the fuck happened?

footsteps could be heard and you saw sunghoon enter with a cup of what you’re assuming is water, hopefully.

sunghoon said nothing as he came closer to you, helping you sit up in the bed and brining the cup to your lips. he assisted you with drinking the water.

“thank you.” you finally said in a whisper.

“our baby doll can talk now.” he smiled and patted your head. he laid you back down on the bed. it must be his.

sunghoon hovered over you, straddling, as he took off his shirt with a smirk. “be prepared baby doll. you’re not gonna be able to move for a while once we’re done with you.”

his lips came down to yours, a rush kiss, as he swiftly took off your pants and underwear at once and lifted your sweatshirt to expose your belly.

you were so distracted by his tongue deep in your mouth, you didn’t feel or notice sunghoon taking off his own pants and boxers. it wasn’t until he rubbed his tip against your clit.

“ah,” you moaned out from the feeling. your body still not recovered from jays attack or lack of orgasm. was sunghoon not gonna prep you either? he loved to eat your cunt out, almost, almost, as much as jake.

this would also be your first time having sex with sunghoon.

your thoughts were answered when he entered into you, slightly slower than what jay did. sunghoon was longer than jay, but with slight less thickness to him.

your hands went to sunghoons shoulders to grip, and he bottomed out, a loud moan leaving his lips. “why have i never done this before?” he mumbled to himself. your walls gripping him snuggly. “baby doll you feel so good and right for me. for us.”

sunghoon found a pace rocking his hips against yours, you connecting your lips together to muffle the sounds. once he started to reach an orgasm, his paced picked up and so did the roughness of how he fucked you. he lifted his lips off of yours as his fangs extended and his teeth scraped your shoulder like a slight pinch and he buried his head in your shoulder.

“so so good, baby doll.” he moaned, using his hand to wrap one of your legs around his waist for a deeper and better angle.

your head tilted as far back as possible from the pleasure building in your stomach once again. “sunghoon, im close.” you groaned out, removing your hands from his shoulders to grab onto the headboard.

you felt sunghoon fill you up with his come, and you were worried he wouldn’t let you come, but he fucked his come deeper into you as you soon came as well with the loudest moan you’ve let slip past your lips.

maybe it was because of the first orgasm denial, so this one was so intense. it had your body shaking afterwards, specifically your legs and they went numb.

you were so tired, all you wanted to to was nap. not even caring as sunghoon pulled out, you closed your eyes.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

when you awoke, you were in a different bed, and heeseung was playing a game at his desk in front of you.

you tried to move your body but couldn’t. not because you were tied down, but because your body was so sore and worn out. the only thing you could do was let noises escape your mouth.

your whine caught heeseung’s attention from the game and he smiled seeing you awake. he turned off the game, coming to the bed beside you as you finally noticed him shirtless, only in pajama pants.

all you could do was stare. “baby, you’ve been sleep for hours. was starting to get worried i wouldn’t get my turn.” he pouted.

hours? you slept for hours? you turned your head to look out the window and saw dusk was falling. what time was it?

you mentally did math—okay so class ended around 11:40, you met jay at his office around 12. how long did that last? a hour? maybe longer? then what about sunghoon? how long did that go?

with the light, it had to be around 5 or 5:30 in the evening. “time?” you croaked out.

heeseung smiled. “it’s almost 5, baby.” he pulled you to the edge of the bed, so your feet hung off the edge, your butt close to it. “i’m glad jay and sunghoon didn’t go too hard. was worried you wouldn’t be able to take me or jake.”

wait, they all were going to fuck you? and what does he mean they didn’t go too hard? you could barely move or speak!

you tried to form words, but your mind turned to mush when heeseung got on his knees and lifted both of your legs so they were over his shoulder. “i can’t wait to finally taste you.” he whispered against your inner thigh.

that’s when you finally realized, you were only in an oversized shirt and some boxers. you didn’t know who dressed you in it. maybe sunghoon or maybe heeseung.

heeseung kissed your cunt through the boxers, his nose burying itself to inhale deeply. he pressed open mouth kisses all along both of your thighs, before his vampire fangs felt like a pinch to your thigh. you jerked, but heeseung held you in place. his teeth scraped against your inner thigh, a moan leaving your lips as you turned your head to the side, and ran your fingers through is hair.

he swiftly took the boxers off your legs and lifted the shirt up above your belly button. no warning, heeseungs tongue swiped between your folds, your legs tightening around his neck as he buried himself between your legs like he was home. he licked, sucked, bit, nibbled, all he could on your cunt, clit and in between.

“fuck you taste too good baby. no wonder jake and sunghoon love to be buried between your legs.” heeseung sighed in pleasure, as he continued his attack. meanwhile, your head was rocking side to side, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, all while holding heeseung in place by your legs and your fist in his hair. the harder you gripped he would bite.

you were nearing your third orgasm of the day, but before you could let heeseung know you were close, he removed his delightful lips and tongue from your cunt, kissing up your stomach, lifting the shirt higher above your breasts, to your neck, still leaving open mouth kisses, licks, and occasionally nipping with his fangs.

you whine at the loss, heeseung smiling against your skin. his lips met yours in a sloppy kiss, you tasting yourself on his lips and tongue.

his lips made their way back to your breasts, his lips wrapping around one nipple, you sensitive to the feeling. another moan left your mouth, but then a louder moan mixed with a yelp came next as without warning, heeseungs fingers entered your cunt.

not one. not two. but three of his long fingers, knuckle deep. your body jerked at the feeling, but it caused heeseung to bite your nipple, your cunt growing wetter every second, and even wetter than before due to the bite.

“so so wet for me.” heeseung smiled then did the same attack on your other breast and nipple. he was loving the loud sounds coming from your wet cunt.

now, one hand was in heeseungs hair, the other on his muscular back as his fingers rocked in and out at a fast and bruising pace. “mhm heeseung.” you moaned out in between taking deep breaths. even without his cock he was filling you up deliciously.

your walls clamped tighter on his fingers, so he kept the speed of his fingers, his thumb rubbing circles on your clit. his tongue licked and sucked your nipple harder, his fangs making another appearance with a pinch.

it sent you over the edge. you came hard. your juices soaked his fingers, leaking onto the edge of the bed, down your thighs, and down his stomach.

you let out the loudest moan you ever had, and your chest heaved up and down as you chased oxygen as you felt so breathless.

you weren’t done. you kept coming and coming for at least a full 2 minutes, your body weakening every second as heeseung continued moving his fingers to your orgasm.

it wasn’t until tears filled your eyes that heeseung removed his fingers and lifted his body off of yours as you shook. you couldn’t imagine taking his cock right now.

“you’ll get my cock another time, baby.” he whispered against your forehead, easing your mind for the time being.

your eyes began to close as exhaustion took over.

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

different bed. you woke up in a different bed and next to a different body. your eyes slowly opened to the darkness both outside and in the room.

your heartbeat sped up to not knowing your surroundings. you felt familiar lips on your neck with a kiss and a familiar aussie accent, “you had us so worried baby.”

you swallowed, trying to find your voice. “sorry.” your voice cracked. “im so sorry.” you apologized. this was your punishment for ignoring them. they were letting you know, you were theirs.

“it’s okay baby. we know you won’t do it again.” jake sighed and began sucking on your neck.

you knew jake had a high sex drive. even before he became a damn vampire. you could only imagine how becoming a vampire upped it. usually when he feasted on you, he could stay for hours eating you out, giving you multiple orgasms in a short time period.

“jakey im tired.” you pouted hoping jake would give you a break.

“don’t worry baby, just lay there, jakey will do all the work.”

and he did. you laid flat on the bed like a damn mannequin. your mind couldn’t even focus on whatever jake was doing. you just remember the cold air hitting your naked skin, his lips, his tongue, his teeth, all over your body.

jake gripping your thighs so tight you were sure handprints would be left behind, along with his nails digging into your skin.

you moaned, whined, and cried. jake was enjoying it so much. he didn’t care if you couldn’t participate back. as long as his lips were somewhere on your body he was happy.

between your legs, your thighs, devouring your cunt. your breast, nibbling your breasts. your lips for sloppy kisses, spit mixing between your mouths.

he moved you onto your stomach so he could eat you out from behind. he positioned your body so your head was buried in the sheets, your hands by your side, your ass in the air.

jake feasted, slobber and spit running down your leg. or was it come? did you orgasm? you were so tired maybe you did and didn’t even know.

jake mumbled, “so wet baby. coming so much just from my tongue.”

your mouth was so dry.

jake landed a slap to your ass, you groaned in reaction, and jake smiled liking that you finally responded to stimuli.

next you felt long slender fingers enter your cunt from behind, this time you bit into the sheets. your cunt genuinely could not handle anything else.

jake pumped his fingers at an ungodly speed, or what felt like it, your screams muffled by the sheets of his bed. your hands found the strength to grip onto the sheets.

“come again for me baby. i know you want to.”

and you did. you don’t know what orgasm number this was. you don’t know how long you orgasmed for. you just know your body could not take anymore.

you cried, shaking your head. “no more jakey, please. i—i am so sorry.” you sniffled.

jake shushed you, rubbing your back trying to get you to take deep breaths through your sobs. “it’s okay baby, no more.” he kissed your back. you collapsed onto the bed.

jake got off the bed, and helped you sit up, bringing a cup to your lips. “drink some water baby.”

you did. he had to help you, get you to slowly drink as if you tried to drink to fast, it would miss your lips and dribble down your chin.

once done, he laid you back down, covering up your naked body.

you cried yourself to sleep being so worn out from your body being wrecked by 4 vampires.

₍ᐢ. .ᐢ₎ ₊˚⊹♡

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apollogeticx · 1 day

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✧˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳ YOUNG AND BEAUTIFUL ♡·˚

— [♡] ; love it's in the moments you don’t speak—the glances, the touches, the unspoken promises. ｡°. gojo satoru

tags: mutual pining, afab!reader, fluff, intimacy, comfort, slow build, flirty gojo, first kiss, soft moments, special grade sorcerer reader, gojo is very much clearly simping

wc. 11K *phew!*

It had been a few years since you last stepped foot in Jujutsu High. The familiar grounds looked the same, though they seemed quieter without the chaos of students running around. The memories of training, missions, and countless teasing remarks from your former teacher all came flooding back as you walked up the path toward the main building.

You had been away, working tirelessly in the field, honing your cursed techniques, taking on increasingly difficult missions. It had all led to this moment. Today, you were returning to be officially promoted to a Special Grade Sorcerer.

As you approached the entrance, you felt a mixture of pride and nerves. After all, you hadn’t seen Gojo Satoru since graduation. It wasn’t like you hadn’t kept in touch with your friends, but Gojo… he was different. You knew he’d be at the promotion ceremony, and somehow, that thought made your heart race.

Stepping inside, you looked around, the echo of your footsteps filling the hallway. A part of you hoped you might run into Gojo before the ceremony, but knowing him, he’d probably make a grand entrance—like always.

"Well, well. Look who’s back."

The voice came from behind you, teasing and all too familiar. You turned quickly, and there he was—Gojo, standing casually with that same cocky smile, hands in his pockets, and his blindfold once again wrapped around his head.

"You still like sneaking up on people, I see," you said, trying to sound calm, though your pulse quickened at the sight of him.

He grinned. "And you still get flustered just as easily. Some things never change, huh?"

You felt the heat rise to your cheeks, but you weren’t the same shy student you had been before. You had grown, faced some of the worst curses in existence, and yet Gojo still had this effect on you.

"I didn’t expect you to greet me so soon," you replied, a small smile tugging at your lips. "I thought you'd be too busy for that."

"Busy?" Gojo’s grin widened as he sauntered closer. "I made time just for you. After all, a former student coming back to get promoted to Special Grade? That’s a big deal."

You felt a swell of pride at his words, but also a little self-conscious. "It feels surreal. I mean, being here again… and, well, being promoted."

"Surreal, huh?" He tilted his head, eyeing you with amusement. "Kid, you’re more than ready. I saw that years ago."

His words caught you off guard. Despite everything you had accomplished, hearing Gojo acknowledge your strength like this—it felt like something had come full circle. He had always pushed you, teased you, but he also believed in you more than anyone else.

"I wasn’t so sure back then," you admitted softly, "but I guess I’ve learned a lot since."

Gojo nodded slowly, a rare look of seriousness flickering across his face. "I knew you would. You’ve got the strength, and more importantly, the heart for this kind of work."

You blinked, surprised by his sincerity. He wasn’t just teasing you now—this was Gojo at his most genuine, and it made your chest tighten.

"Thanks, Gojo-sensei," you murmured, your voice soft. "That means a lot, coming from you."

He shrugged, the playful smile returning. "Don’t get all emotional on me now, kid. We’ve got a whole ceremony to get through. You’ve earned this, and then some."

The two of you fell into step as you walked toward the meeting hall. Gojo’s presence next to you was both comforting and slightly overwhelming, like it always had been.

As you reached the doors, Gojo stopped, turning to you with a mischievous look in his eye. "You know, I’m technically supposed to give a speech during your promotion. Maybe I’ll tell everyone about how you used to hide behind Megumi when I’d mess with you."

You groaned, shaking your head with a small laugh. "Please don’t."

He chuckled. "Don’t worry, I’ll be nice. Maybe."

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face. Despite the teasing, it felt good to be back in this familiar dynamic. The butterflies in your stomach hadn’t fully settled, though. Something about standing next to Gojo again stirred up old feelings—feelings you thought you had long buried.

As the doors opened and you stepped inside the hall, the attention of the other sorcerers turned to you. Gojo followed closely behind, his presence commanding the room as always. But this time, the spotlight wasn’t on him—it was on you.

The ceremony was a blur, words of congratulations and praise drifting in and out of focus. You stood tall, trying to keep your composure, but your mind kept drifting to Gojo, who leaned casually against the wall, watching the proceedings with an unreadable expression behind his blindfold.

When it was over, and the room began to empty, you finally let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. You were officially a Special Grade Sorcerer now. It felt like a huge weight had been lifted, but at the same time, a new pressure settled in its place.

Before you could get lost in thought, Gojo appeared at your side again, his hand coming to rest lightly on your shoulder. "See? Told you it wasn’t that bad."

You smiled, looking up at him. "Yeah… I guess you were right."

For a moment, there was a comfortable silence between you two. Then Gojo’s hand slid off your shoulder, and he gave you a lazy grin. "So, what’s next for the newly promoted Special Grade?"

"I’m not sure yet," you replied honestly. "But… I’m excited to find out."

Gojo studied you for a second, his grin softening. "Good. You’ve come a long way, kiddo. I’m proud of you."

Your breath hitched slightly at his words, but before you could respond, Gojo leaned in a little closer, his voice dropping just for you to hear.

"By the way, if you ever need a reminder of how far you’ve come," he murmured, his warm breath brushing against your ear, "you can always come back. I’ll be here."

You swallowed hard, feeling your face heat up all over again. He pulled back, that teasing smile still on his lips, as if he knew exactly what he was doing to you.

"Thanks," you managed to say, trying to keep your voice steady. "I’ll keep that in mind."

Gojo chuckled and stepped back, giving you a small wave as he turned to leave. "See you around, kid."

Some things really didn’t change. But this time, you didn’t mind.

It felt like home.

As you walk down the steps of Jujutsu High, you can still feel Gojo’s presence outside, his energy as unmistakable as always. The sun is setting, casting long shadows across the grounds, and there’s something surreal about being here again—not as a student, but as an equal. Or as close to an equal as anyone can get with someone like Gojo.

Your eyes land on him, leaning casually against a tree near the gates, the evening light catching in his silver hair. He’s not even trying to be inconspicuous. things never change.

"I was beginning to think you’d gotten lost," he calls out as you approach, his tone as playful as ever. "Or did you just need a moment to compose yourself after all those heartfelt congratulations?"

You roll your eyes, but a smile tugs at your lips. "You weren’t even waiting here for that long. I thought you’d be off somewhere causing trouble."

"Waiting? Nah, I was just enjoying the peace and quiet before you showed up," he quips, though the smile on his face suggests otherwise.

You walk up to him, arms crossed over your chest, but there’s a flicker of boldness in your step. You’ve changed since the last time you were here, and you can feel it in the way you hold yourself. And maybe, just maybe, you’re ready to push back a little this time.

"Still wearing that blindfold, I see," you remark casually, your eyes flicking up to the familiar fabric covering his eyes. "You know, I thought someone as unpredictable as you might’ve switched it up by now."

Gojo’s grin widens, clearly enjoying where this is going. "Oh? And what do you suggest I wear? Something more 'grown up' like you? You do seem different, but I didn’t think you’d start giving me fashion advice."

You shrug with a smirk. "I don’t know, maybe something a little less… lazy. Or are you afraid of people seeing those famous eyes of yours too often? I hear it’s bad for their health."

Gojo chuckles, the sound deep and warm. "You really have gotten bolder. I like it."

You tilt your head, feeling the dynamic between you shift ever so slightly. There’s a tension now, a playful kind that wasn’t there before. When you were a student, he always had the upper hand, teasing you endlessly, knowing you’d blush and fumble your words. But now… now you’re not quite as easy to fluster.

"Well," you say, stepping a little closer, "I had to get better at keeping up with you eventually. I’ve had plenty of practice dodging your teasing over the years."

Gojo’s grin falters for the briefest moment, replaced with something more thoughtful as he watches you. He shifts his weight, pushing off the tree and straightening up, towering over you as he often does. "Oh, I don’t know. I think you secretly enjoyed all that teasing."

Your heart skips a beat at his words, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction of seeing you blush. Not this time. "Maybe," you say with a smirk of your own, "but I think you enjoyed it more."

That catches him off guard. His eyebrows raise slightly, and for a split second, you see something flicker across his face—surprise, amusement, and something else you can’t quite place. He recovers quickly, though, leaning in just a bit closer, his voice lowering as if you’re sharing a secret.

"Well, aren’t you full of surprises today," he murmurs, his tone teasing but laced with something more, something that makes your pulse quicken. "You really have grown up."

You meet his gaze—or, you would if his eyes weren’t covered by that damn blindfold. But you feel the weight of his presence all the same, and it’s clear that this conversation is walking a fine line between old dynamics and something entirely new.

"I had to," you reply, your voice steady despite the way your heart is racing. "Couldn’t stay the same shy kid forever, right?"

Gojo hums, taking a step back but keeping his gaze locked on you. "True. Though, I have to admit, the shy part was kind of cute."

You scoff, trying not to let the compliment—or whatever that was—get to you. "Cute? Really? You’ve got a strange way of showing affection, Gojo-sensei."

His grin turns playful again, but there’s an edge to it, like he’s enjoying this new dynamic as much as you are. "I thought that was obvious by now. I’ve been nothing but affectionate with my favorite students."

"Affectionate? Is that what you call it?" You raise an eyebrow, stepping closer again, refusing to let him have the upper hand. "Because if that’s your idea of affection, you might need to work on your delivery."

Gojo laughs, a full, genuine laugh that lights up his entire face. "And here I thought I was being subtle."

"Subtle? You?" You shake your head, the smile on your face growing. "You’re about as subtle as a curse rampaging through Tokyo."

Gojo clutches his chest dramatically. "Ouch, kid. I’m starting to think you’ve really grown out of my charming personality."

You take another step, closing the distance between you two even more. "Maybe I’ve just grown into someone who can handle it better."

He’s close now, close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating from him, and for a moment, the playful teasing gives way to something else. It’s like the air between you shifts—still light, but charged with an energy that wasn’t there before. You both know you’re walking into new territory, uncharted but not unwelcome.

Gojo studies you for a moment longer, and you can tell that he’s enjoying this new version of you, the way you push back, the way you don’t shy away from him anymore. "You know," he says, his voice a little softer now, "I might have to start taking you seriously if you keep this up."

You smirk, raising an eyebrow. "Maybe you should’ve been doing that all along."

He grins, but there’s something genuine behind it. "Touché."

For a moment, the two of you just stand there, the teasing falling into a comfortable silence. There’s no need to fill the space with words; you both know what’s unspoken between you. It’s a shift, a recognition that the dynamic between you is different now, more equal, more balanced.

Finally, you break the silence, feeling just bold enough to push a little further. "By the way," you say, your voice casual but laced with meaning, "I’m staying at a hotel nearby for a month. You know, in case you feel like catching up… or if you want to see how much I’ve ‘grown up.’"

Gojo’s grin falters for just a second, and you catch a flicker of something in his expression—surprise, intrigue, and maybe even a bit of challenge. Then, as quickly as it appeared, it’s replaced with his usual smirk.

"Oh?" he drawls, his voice low and teasing. "Well, don’t be too disappointed if I show up unannounced. I do have a habit of keeping people on their toes."

You chuckle, feeling the weight of his words, the unspoken promise hanging between you. "I’ll keep that in mind."

As you turn to leave, you notice Gojo falling into step beside you. His long strides easily match your pace, and though you’re both heading toward the parking lot where your car is waiting, it feels like neither of you is quite ready to say goodbye just yet.

"Walking me to my car, Gojo-sensei?" you tease, glancing up at him with a playful smile. "I didn’t think you were the gentleman type."

He shrugs with a grin, hands in his pockets as he walks casually next to you. "Well, I’ve got to make sure my freshly promoted Special Grade sorcerer doesn’t get lost on her way out. Besides, who knows what kind of trouble you’ll attract in the dark?"

You roll your eyes at his exaggerated tone, though the teasing warmth in his voice makes it hard not to smile. "I think I can handle myself. I’ve been doing just fine all these years."

"True, but you know me. I like to make an impression," he says, the corner of his mouth tugging upward into a smirk. "Especially on people I care about."

You glance at him, catching the way his words linger in the air, heavier than usual. There's a subtle shift in the mood between you—something teetering on the edge of playful and something deeper, and you're both fully aware of it. You’re tethering new territory, and the dynamic between you two feels different now. Mature. Equal. Exciting.

"So, it’s about making impressions now?" you tease, feeling the butterflies fluttering in your chest. "And here I thought you just liked showing off."

"Who says it can’t be both?" he replies smoothly, Gojo looked at you with a mischievous smile, his pace slowing just a bit as if savoring the moment. "You’ve grown a lot, you know. Not just in skill, but…" He tilted his head, eyeing you with a playful glint. "You’ve got a bit more bite now. You’re not the same shy little student who used to hide behind Megumi."

You laughed softly, shaking your head. "I *did not* hide behind Megumi."

"Oh, come on, kiddo." He nudged you gently with his elbow. "You used to blush every time I so much as looked your way. Admit it."

You tried to suppress the smile creeping onto your face but failed. "Okay, *maybe* I was a little flustered. But in my defense, you never made it easy."

He grinned, leaning in slightly, his voice dropping just a little. "I didn’t think I’d have to make it easy for you."

The way he said it sent a shiver down your spine, and for a moment, you were both quiet, walking side by side, the teasing tension between you now more palpable. You could feel the heat rising in your cheeks again, but this time, it wasn’t out of embarrassment. There was something bold bubbling up inside you.

As you approached the parking area where your car was waiting, Gojo stopped, turning to face you. His grin softened, but the playful spark remained in his eyes. "Well, here we are. You sure you don’t want me to teleport you wherever you’re staying? Could save you some time."

You smiled, feeling the boldness surge within you. "As tempting as that sounds, I think I’ll be fine driving on my own. But thanks for the offer, Gojo-sensei."

He arched an eyebrow at the way you said his name, his smirk widening. "You keep calling me ‘sensei’ like I’m still your teacher. But we both know that’s not exactly true anymore, right?"

You felt your heart race at his words. He was right—this wasn’t the same dynamic as before. Not anymore. You both knew it, and the air between you felt thick with unspoken possibilities.

You took a deep breath, stepping a little closer to him, daring yourself to take this a step further. "I guess you’re right. Maybe I should start calling you something else. After all, we’re both adults now."

Gojo’s grin faltered for just a second, a flash of surprise crossing his features before it was quickly replaced with amusement. "Oh? And what would you call me then?"

You tilted your head slightly, enjoying the rare sight of him being caught off guard. "I’ll have to think about that."

He chuckled, shaking his head. "You really have grown. Look at you, teasing me back. I’m proud."

His words made your heart flutter in a way that felt different from before. But you weren’t done yet. Taking a bold step forward, you closed the remaining distance between you and Gojo. Before he could react, you leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

No Infinity.

The moment seemed to stretch, the warmth of your lips lingering against his skin, and for the first time in your relationship with Gojo, it felt like the roles had reversed. His smirk faltered, his body going still as if processing what had just happened.

When you pulled back, his usual cocky demeanor seemed to slip for just a moment, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

"That’s for all the times you teased me mercilessly," you said softly, your voice playful but steady. "And maybe for the times I didn’t tease you back when I should have."

Gojo blinked, and then, slowly, a grin spread across his face—wider than before, more genuine. "Well, well. You’re full of surprises tonight."

You shrugged, feeling a rush of satisfaction at the shift in dynamic. "I told you. I’ve grown up."

He let out a low laugh, his eyes never leaving yours. "Yeah, you certainly have." He seemed to shake off whatever shock had held him back, his playful confidence returning in full force. "But don’t think I’m letting you get away with that so easily, kiddo."

You raised an eyebrow. "Oh? What are you going to do about it?"

His grin was almost dangerous now, that familiar spark of mischief flashing in his eyes. "You’ll just have to wait and see."

The teasing tension between you felt like it was on the edge of something more, but before either of you could push it further, you decided to pull back, letting the moment simmer rather than boil over.

As you climbed into the driver’s seat and started the engine, Gojo stepped back, still watching you with that same teasing, unreadable look.

"Drive safe, kid," he called out, raising a hand in farewell.

You smiled, pulling away, but as you glanced in the rearview mirror, you couldn’t help but notice that he was still standing there, watching you drive off into the night.

It felt like the beginning of something new—something neither of you had quite figured out yet. But you were both adults now, and whatever came next, you knew it would be an interesting ride.

After a few days of settling into your routine post-promotion, things had started to feel more normal. Well, as normal as life could be for a Special Grade sorcerer. You’d spent most of your time either training or catching up on much-needed rest, all while reflecting on how surreal it was to be back at Jujutsu High—especially with the way things had shifted between you and Gojo.

The memory of the moment outside the school gates played on a loop in your mind. The teasing, the playful tension, the kiss you’d dared to press on his cheek. You couldn’t stop replaying the look of surprise on his face, the way his cocky grin had faltered, just for a moment. He was always so composed, so in control, but for a split second, you’d managed to throw him off. And you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it since.

Now, it was late in the evening, and you found yourself sitting alone in your hotel room, the soft hum of city life outside your window. You had just finished a light training session earlier and returned to your room to freshen up. The thought of ordering room service for dinner crossed your mind as you flipped through the menu, your stomach growling in protest at the lack of food in it.

You settled on something simple and pressed the button to call down for service when your phone buzzed on the nightstand. Absentmindedly, you reached for it, half-expecting a message from one of your friends or perhaps a notification about your latest mission.

Instead, you saw a message from the hotel’s front desk.

"Gojo Satoru is here to see you."

Your heart skipped a beat, and you blinked at the screen, rereading the message just to make sure you weren’t seeing things. Gojo? Here? Now?

You hadn’t actually expected him to take up your offer. When you’d playfully mentioned your hotel stay, it had been more of a tease—an open-ended invitation, sure, but you didn’t think he’d actually show up. Not after how things had ended at the school. The kiss. The tension. The unspoken things that lingered between you both.

But apparently, Gojo had decided to take you up on your offer for dinner. The butterflies in your stomach returned full force as you tried to calm yourself. You knew him well enough to know he didn’t do anything without a reason—especially when it came to situations like this. And yet, here he was.

You glanced around your room, suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that you were still in casual clothes—nothing fancy, just a pair of comfortable shorts and a t-shirt. Hardly the outfit for hosting someone like Gojo, but you had no time to change.

A knock sounded at your door, and you took a deep breath, walking toward it with a mix of excitement and nerves.

When you opened the door, Gojo stood there, looking as infuriatingly laid-back and stylish as ever. He wasn’t in his usual sorcerer uniform tonight. Instead, he wore a dark, tailored jacket over a simple shirt and slacks, his blindfold notably absent, replaced by a pair of sleek sunglasses. His silver hair was slightly tousled, as though he hadn’t bothered much with it, but of course, he still managed to look effortlessly put together.

"Surprise," he said, flashing that signature grin of his, as though showing up at your hotel room unannounced was the most natural thing in the world.

You leaned against the doorframe, trying to play it cool even though your heart was racing. "Gojo-sensei. I didn’t think you’d actually take me up on that offer."

He stepped inside, brushing past you as if it were his place. "Well, you told me you’d be here for a month. Hope I’m not interrupting anything." He glanced around the room with a playful smile. "No secret sorcery rituals? No dangerous curses lurking around?"

You laughed, closing the door behind him. "No, no rituals. Just room service and me trying to figure out what to order for dinner."

"Room service?" Gojo raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "Come on, you’re in the city. You can do better than hotel food."

You crossed your arms, trying to keep your voice steady despite his teasing. "Well, unless you’ve got a better suggestion, this is the easiest option."

Gojo grinned, pulling out his phone. "Lucky for you, I’m a man of many talents. How about I order us something decent?"

"Decent, huh? You sure about that?"

He waved off your skepticism, already tapping away at his phone as he sauntered over to the small table near the window and took a seat. "Trust me, I know the best spots. You’ll thank me later."

You watched him, half-amused and half-flustered by how comfortable he was making himself in your space. It felt strange—having him here, in your hotel room, of all places. And yet, it didn’t. Gojo always had a way of making any situation feel simultaneously normal and completely unexpected.

After a few minutes, he put his phone down, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied look. "Food’s on the way. Hope you’re hungry."

You walked over and sat across from him, the hotel menu now forgotten. "I guess I’ll have to trust you on this."

Gojo leaned forward, resting his arms on the table, and for a moment, his expression softened. "So, how’s it been? Adjusting to the whole Special Grade thing. It’s a big step up."

You shrugged, grateful for the shift in conversation. "It’s been… weird, honestly. I’m still getting used to it. It’s not just the title—it’s everything that comes with it. Expectations, responsibilities. It feels like I’ve suddenly got all these eyes on me."

Gojo nodded, his tone a little more serious than usual. "That’s because you do. Being Special Grade means more than just power—it’s the influence, the way people look at you. But don’t worry. You’ll get used to it."

His words were meant to reassure, but something about the way he said it made you think he understood better than most. You realized that despite all the bravado, Gojo had been carrying that weight for a long time. The weight of expectations, of being the strongest, of always having people watching, waiting for him to fail—or worse, succeed too easily.

"Thanks," you said, your voice softening. "Coming from you, that actually helps."

He gave you a small smile, but then, in typical Gojo fashion, the serious moment passed as quickly as it had arrived. "But don’t let it get to your head. I’m still stronger than you."

You snorted, shaking your head. "Always so humble, huh?"

"Someone has to keep you in check," he said with a wink.

A knock on the door interrupted your banter, and you stood to get the food, returning with two takeout bags that smelled divine. Gojo grinned as you set them on the table, already reaching for one of the containers.

"I told you it’d be good," he said, handing you your portion.

You raised an eyebrow, skeptical but intrigued. "Alright, I’ll give you that. Smells pretty good."

The two of you dug into the meal, the atmosphere relaxing as you ate, sharing stories and catching up on what you’d missed in each other’s lives over the past few years. Gojo regaled you with his usual exaggerated tales of missions and his ‘legendary’ exploits, making you laugh despite yourself. And for once, you found it easy to tease him back, knowing that you weren’t the timid student you used to be.

At one point, Gojo leaned back in his chair, stretching his arms behind his head with a satisfied sigh. "See? Told you I knew the best spots."

You smirked, leaning forward. "Alright, alright. I’ll admit it. You were right about the food."

"That’s what I like to hear," he said, flashing you a grin.

As the conversation naturally slowed down, a comfortable silence settled between you both, and for a moment, you found yourself simply watching him. It was strange—having him here, sharing a meal in your hotel room, in such an ordinary, human moment. Gojo, despite everything, was still a bit of an enigma. He was larger than life, someone who seemed untouchable in so many ways. And yet here he was, in your space, being just… Gojo.

And then, as if sensing the shift in your thoughts, Gojo leaned forward, resting his arms on the table, his eyes locking with yours.

"You know," he said quietly, his voice softer now, "I wasn’t just here for the food."

Your heart skipped a beat, the playful atmosphere suddenly replaced with something more serious, more intimate. You met his gaze, feeling the weight of his words, but not entirely sure where he was going with this.

"Gojo—" you started, but he interrupted you, his smile soft but knowing.

"Satoru," he corrected, his voice low. "You don’t have to keep calling me ‘sensei’ anymore. We’re not at Jujutsu High."

The air between you felt thick, the casual banter from earlier now giving way to something deeper. You swallowed, feeling the tension rise, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was something else. Something electric.

"Satoru," you said again, his name feeling intimate, like something shared in confidence. The moment stretched between you, and the air in the room felt thicker, almost charged. You hadn’t meant for it to get this way, not when you invited him to catch up. Yet here you were, the easy banter slipping into something else, something unfamiliar but undeniably tempting.

He didn't reply right away. Instead, he watched you, his gaze steady and intense, no teasing grin, no playful smirk—just focus. His eyes, no longer hidden behind a blindfold, had that same vibrant blue intensity, and they seemed to soften the longer he looked at you. He leaned back in his chair slightly, one hand lazily resting on the table as if he had all the time in the world, like there was nowhere else he’d rather be.

You felt your pulse quicken, but the warmth that settled over you wasn’t just nerves—it was anticipation. The distance between you both felt almost too large now, despite being seated so close. A quiet hum of energy flowed between you, drawing you in, but neither of you was rushing to fill the silence.

Satoru’s voice broke through the quiet, low and unhurried. "You know… it’s been a while since I’ve had a dinner like this. Just us. No missions. No students. No chaos." His tone was lazy, like the way he stretched his words was deliberate, savoring each one.

You felt your body relax into the atmosphere, your earlier tension dissolving as the two of you settled into this slower, lazier rhythm. You leaned back in your chair, mimicking his posture, allowing your foot to nudge against his under the table, just lightly. You weren’t sure what possessed you to do it, but the casual touch felt like a gentle acknowledgment of the shift between you. Something more intimate, something more *present* was settling in.

Satoru glanced down at the small contact, the corners of his mouth twitching into a soft smile—different from his usual grin. It felt… private. "Careful," he said, his voice dropping a little lower, "or I’ll start thinking you’re trying to make a move on me."

You smiled back, feeling bolder in this new atmosphere. "And what if I am?"

There it was—a daring line neither of you had crossed before. The teasing had always been a part of your dynamic, but this? This was uncharted territory, and it sent a rush of excitement through you. You weren’t the same student he used to tease and fluster. You could hold your own now.

Satoru’s gaze flicked back to yours, his expression unreadable for a moment before he leaned forward slightly, his arms resting on the table again, closer now. The distance between you narrowed, and your foot was still resting lightly against his, the touch warm through the fabric of your soft socks.

His voice was quiet, but there was a deliberate slowness to his words. "Then maybe I should see where this goes."

The way he said it, lazy and inviting, made your heart race. You knew Satoru wasn’t one to shy away from anything, especially not when it came to these kinds of games. But this didn’t feel like a game anymore. The lazy, sexy atmosphere had shifted into something heavier, something more intimate and real.

Your breath hitched slightly as you watched him lean just a little closer. He wasn’t in any hurry. The tension simmered between you both, and it felt like he was savoring every second of it. His eyes never left yours, and the weight of his presence made the room feel warmer, smaller.

"I wasn’t expecting you to actually come," you admitted, your voice quieter now, as if speaking too loudly would shatter the delicate balance between you.

Satoru smiled, slow and lazy. "What can I say? I like to keep you on your toes."

You smirked, shaking your head slightly. "I’m starting to think you enjoy seeing me flustered."

He chuckled softly, the sound low and smooth, the kind that made the air feel heavier. "Maybe a little. But you’re not the same shy student anymore, are you? I have a feeling you can handle yourself now."

There was a deeper meaning to his words, and you felt it resonate through you. He was testing the waters, waiting to see how far you were willing to go.

Your heart raced, but this time, it wasn’t just nerves. It was a slow, delicious anticipation, like you were both slowly, lazily circling something inevitable. You leaned forward, closing the gap between you, your arms resting on the table now, much like his. The space between your faces felt almost too intimate, but neither of you pulled away.

"Maybe I can," you murmured, your voice steady despite the flutter in your chest.

Satoru’s gaze softened as his eyes traveled over your face, lingering on your lips for just a second before meeting your eyes again. There was no rush, no urgency, but the tension between you hummed quietly, like something waiting to break free.

"You’ve got more confidence now," he said, his voice low and almost intimate. "I like it."

You smiled softly, your heart pounding in your chest. "Guess I had a good teacher."

He laughed quietly, the sound warm and teasing. "You might regret saying that."

For a moment, neither of you moved. The atmosphere between you was thick with anticipation, but it wasn’t the kind of tension that demanded immediate action. It was slow, deliberate, like you both wanted to savor the moment, to see where it would take you.

Then, without a word, Satoru reached across the table, his hand brushing against yours, his fingers warm and slightly rough. The touch was subtle but intimate, his thumb tracing a slow, lazy pattern across the back of your hand.

Your breath caught in your throat as you glanced down at the contact, your heart racing. It was such a simple gesture, but it sent a ripple of heat through you, settling low in your stomach. You didn’t pull away, and neither did he. Instead, you let the moment stretch between you, the lazy, sexy atmosphere deepening with each passing second.

Satoru’s thumb continued its slow, deliberate movements, and when you looked up at him again, his expression had softened. There was no teasing grin now, no cocky smirk. Just him, watching you with an intensity that made your pulse race.

"You’re not running away," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You shook your head, a small smile tugging at your lips. "I’m not the same person I was, Satoru."

His gaze held yours, and for a moment, the playful banter disappeared completely, replaced by something far more intimate, far more real.

"No," he agreed, his voice quiet and serious. "You’re not."

And then, he stood up, moving around the table with a slow, deliberate grace that made your heart race. He stopped just in front of you, his tall frame towering over you as he leaned down, one hand resting on the back of your chair.

You tilted your head up to meet his gaze, your breath catching as his face hovered just inches from yours. The tension between you was almost unbearable now, the lazy, slow atmosphere pulling you both into its gravity. You could feel the warmth of his body so close to yours, the space between you almost nonexistent.

Satoru’s hand moved from the chair to your chin, his touch gentle but firm as he tilted your face up to meet his. His thumb brushed against your bottom lip, and your pulse quickened, your breath shallow as you waited, the air between you electric.

"You sure you can handle this?" he murmured, his voice low and teasing, though there was a seriousness behind his words, a quiet question.

You smiled softly, leaning into his touch, your voice steady despite the rapid beating of your heart. "I think I can."

Satoru’s lips curled into a slow, lazy smile, his eyes never leaving yours as he leaned in, the space between you disappearing entirely.

Satoru's thumb lingered on your lips for just a second longer, tracing the outline of your bottom lip with a feather-light touch. The gesture was slow, deliberate, and unhurried, as if he was savoring the moment just as much as you were. His face was close—so close you could feel the warmth of his breath brushing against your skin. The lazy, electric atmosphere between you seemed to buzz, both of you aware of the unspoken tension but not rushing to cross any lines too quickly.

You could feel the weight of his hand on your chin, firm yet gentle, like he was giving you the chance to pull away if you wanted to. But you didn’t. The space between you both was charged, like a silent dare to see who would push things further first.

"You’re not scared, are you?" Satoru asked, his voice low and teasing, yet there was a softness there, like he was genuinely curious about how far you were willing to go.

You met his eyes, those blue depths that held a thousand secrets, and felt a shiver run down your spine. Despite the playful nature of his words, there was something real simmering beneath them, something that felt new and exciting.

"Not scared," you replied softly, feeling a boldness rising inside you, your own voice taking on that same slow, lazy quality as the room around you. "Just… curious."

Satoru’s grin widened, just slightly, his gaze flickering between your eyes and lips. "Curious, huh?" His voice was almost a whisper now, and you could feel the weight of each word settle in the air between you, as if testing how far you were willing to explore this new territory.

"Mm-hmm," you murmured, leaning into the moment, into the tension that felt more like a game between the two of you. Your heart was racing, but the pace was slow, controlled, as though you were both allowing yourselves the space to figure out exactly where this was going. "Aren’t you?"

Satoru’s eyes gleamed with that familiar mischief, but this time, it was different—laced with something deeper, more curious. His hand shifted from your chin to cup the side of your face, his touch soft yet confident, his thumb brushing against your cheek in a way that made your skin tingle.

"Maybe," he said, his tone casual but heavy with meaning. "I’m always curious about what happens next."

You felt your breath catch as his thumb continued its slow, lazy path over your skin, drawing a line down to your jaw. It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t a heated, desperate moment. Instead, it felt like the two of you were experimenting, testing the waters with each small touch, each slow breath.

The intimacy of it all settled over you like a warm blanket—soft, enveloping, but not overwhelming. You were both here, in this quiet, lazy bubble, just the two of you figuring things out one heartbeat at a time. His hand lingered, his fingers sliding back behind your ear, his touch sending a light thrill down your spine, making the room feel smaller, quieter, more intense.

For a moment, neither of you moved. You were aware of the way your breath had quickened slightly, the way your heart pounded beneath your skin, but it wasn’t overwhelming. It felt natural, like this slow dance of curiosity was meant to be drawn out.

Satoru leaned in just a little more, his lips now just a breath away from yours. His eyes never left yours, like he was gauging your reaction, giving you the space to decide what came next. You could feel the tension between you, lazy but buzzing, both of you savoring the slow build-up.

"You want to test the waters a bit more?" His words were playful, but his voice had dropped lower, his tone laced with something heavier, like he was offering you a choice.

You tilted your head just slightly, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you whispered back, "Maybe."

His grin softened, and in that moment, he seemed to relax into the atmosphere fully, leaning in until his forehead gently brushed against yours. The simple contact sent a wave of warmth through you, and you found yourself leaning into him, letting the tension build lazily, neither of you in a rush to dive in too deep just yet.

Satoru’s hand slid down to your neck, his fingers trailing lightly across your skin, leaving a warm, tingling sensation in their wake. His touch was gentle, almost experimental, like he was testing your reactions with each small movement.

"Still curious?" he murmured, the soft, teasing words sending a shiver down your spine. His voice was low, intimate, and it felt like a quiet invitation to keep exploring this moment, this new space you were both creating together.

You smiled, leaning into the feeling of his hand on your skin, the slow, lazy heat between you building with every passing second. "More curious than ever."

His laugh was soft, rumbling against your skin, and you could feel the warmth of it, the way it settled into the air around you. The closeness between you was intoxicating, but neither of you felt the need to rush things.

His fingers continued their slow exploration, tracing the line of your collarbone, sending light shivers through your body. You let your eyes close for a moment, focusing on the feeling of his touch, the warmth of his presence so close to yours.

Then, you felt him shift slightly, and when you opened your eyes again, his lips were hovering just a breath away from yours. He didn’t move any closer, though—just stayed there, waiting, watching you with that same lazy, teasing grin that always seemed to make your heart race.

"You sure about this?" he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper, his breath warm against your lips.

You nodded, your own smile soft as you met his gaze. "Yeah, I’m sure."

And then, slowly, deliberately, you closed the distance between you, pressing your lips softly against his.

The kiss was gentle, tentative at first, like the two of you were still testing the waters, still figuring out how to navigate this new territory. But it wasn’t hesitant—it was curious, exploratory, as though you were both enjoying the slow, lazy build-up just as much as the kiss itself.

Satoru’s hand slid up to the back of your neck, pulling you just a little closer, but still keeping the pace slow, deliberate. His lips moved against yours in a way that made your skin tingle, every small movement sending ripples of warmth through you.

You could feel him smile against your lips, and you couldn’t help but smile back, the intimacy of the moment deepening as you both relaxed into the kiss, letting the curiosity between you take the lead.

Neither of you was in a hurry. The kiss stayed soft, exploratory, as though you were both savoring each second, each small movement, letting the lazy, intimate atmosphere guide you.

When you finally pulled back, your foreheads rested against each other, both of you breathing a little heavier, but still wrapped in that quiet, comfortable space you’d created together.

"Well," Satoru said, his voice still low and teasing, "I think I like this kind of curiosity."

You laughed softly, feeling the warmth of the moment settle over you, content in the knowledge that you had all the time in the world to keep exploring where this would take you. "Me too."

You push back your chair and stand slowly, the wooden legs scraping softly against the floor. Satoru steps back to give you space, his expression shifting from that lazy smirk to something more thoughtful, more curious, as he watches your movements closely. You can feel the weight of his gaze on you, but there’s no rush in the air between you—just that same slow, deliberate energy humming beneath the surface.

With a subtle flick of your wrist, your cursed energy ripples through the room, and the overhead lights dim, casting a soft, intimate glow around you both. The warm light now barely illuminates the space, creating shadows that stretch lazily across the room, giving everything a deeper, more intimate feel.

Satoru watches with an amused but impressed look, his eyes tracking the subtle shift in the atmosphere. His smile returns, a little softer now, more curious than before. "Setting the mood, huh?" he teases, but there’s no bite in his words, just a low, lazy murmur.

You turn to face him, your heart still beating steadily, though now there’s an air of playfulness in the way you move, more sure of yourself than before. "Well," you say with a small smile, "I figured we might as well make it comfortable, right?"

Satoru chuckles under his breath, stepping closer, the soft shadows playing over his features as he tilts his head slightly. "Comfortable, huh? Is that what you’re going for?" His tone is light, teasing, but there’s a softness to it, like he’s intrigued by this new side of you. He lets his gaze drift around the room, as if taking in the subtle change in atmosphere, before his eyes find yours again.

You feel the air between you shift even more as you close the small distance, the glow of the dimmed lights making everything feel warmer, more intimate. The shadows accentuate the way Satoru’s silver hair catches the light, the lines of his features more pronounced in the low light.

Satoru’s hands rest loosely at his sides, his posture relaxed but alert, as if waiting for your next move. He doesn’t rush in, doesn’t make a move to close the gap this time. Instead, he watches you, those bright blue eyes peering at you with a kind of lazy curiosity, letting you take control of the moment.

You take a step closer, standing just a breath away now, the soft hum of tension between you growing in the dimmed light. Your hands hover just in front of him, fingers brushing lightly over the fabric of his jacket, testing the waters, watching for his reaction.

He doesn’t pull away. Instead, he leans in just a fraction, his body language open, relaxed, and welcoming. His gaze remains fixed on yours, and though his smirk is still there, it’s tempered by something more sincere, something more curious.

"Is this part of your technique?" he asks softly, his voice low and smooth, teasing but with a hint of genuine interest. "Or are you just trying to distract me?"

You laugh quietly, your fingers trailing lightly up the lapel of his jacket before resting on his chest. "Maybe a bit of both," you reply, your voice soft but confident.

Satoru chuckles again, his breath warm against your skin as he leans in slightly, his hands finally coming up to rest gently on your waist, the touch lazy and casual but firm enough to let you know he’s fully present in this moment. His thumbs brush idly over your sides, and the simple contact sends a ripple of warmth through you, making the room feel even smaller, even more intimate.

"Seems like I’m not the only one who likes to play games," he murmurs, his voice dropping even lower, his lips just a breath away from your temple.

You feel a smile tug at your lips as you lean into the warmth of his touch, your hands resting lightly against his chest. "Maybe I’ve learned a thing or two from the best," you say, your tone equally playful but laced with something deeper, something genuine.

The quiet between you thickens as you stand there, the soft light casting shadows across your bodies, the energy between you lazy but charged with a sense of anticipation. Satoru’s grip on your waist tightens just slightly, his fingers pressing into your sides as he pulls you closer, the space between you all but disappearing.

He leans down, his lips brushing against your temple in a feather-light touch before trailing down toward your ear, his voice a low, lazy murmur. "You really have grown up, haven’t you?" There’s a playful edge to his words, but it’s softened by the intimacy of the moment, by the way his hands move gently over your body, exploring without rushing, without demanding.

Your hands slide up to his shoulders, fingers curling lightly around the fabric of his jacket, holding him close but not pulling him in too tight.

"You don’t seem too surprised," you whisper, your voice barely above a murmur as you rest your forehead lightly against his, the proximity making every small movement feel amplified.

Satoru’s lips curve into a lazy smile, his fingers brushing gently up and down your sides. "I think I’ve always known there was more to you than you let on."

His words are soft but laced with meaning, and they hang in the air between you, thickening the atmosphere even more. You can feel the weight of his gaze on you, the curiosity in his eyes as he watches your reactions, as if savoring each small shift in the energy between you.

You smile softly, your fingers playing with the fabric of his jacket as you let the moment stretch, the slow, intimate dance between you building with each passing second. "Maybe I was just waiting for the right moment."

Satoru hums softly, his hands sliding up your back now, his touch slow and deliberate, like he’s savoring the feel of you beneath his fingertips. "Seems like now’s as good a time as any."

You can’t help but smile at the way his words settle over you, at the lazy, curious pace you’ve both set, like there’s no rush to figure everything out right away. The air between you is thick with anticipation, but it’s the slow kind, the kind that simmers and builds, neither of you in any hurry to rush the moment.

You lean in just a little closer, your lips brushing against the corner of his mouth as you whisper, "Maybe it is."

The soft brush of your lips against the corner of his mouth lingers in the air, and you can feel the slight tension in Satoru’s body as he absorbs the moment. His hands on your waist tighten, just barely, as if anchoring you both in the lazy intimacy of the dimmed room. His breath catches for a second, and you sense the shift as curiosity gives way to something deeper, something far more intentional.

Satoru leans in, his lips barely grazing yours again, but this time, the hesitation dissolves. There’s no more teasing, no more waiting. The playful back and forth that had lingered between you shifts into a new rhythm, one filled with heat and slow, deliberate intent. His lips press fully against yours now, soft but firm, and you feel the warmth of him, the depth of the moment drawing you in.

The kiss is slow at first, lazy like everything else about this evening. Neither of you rushes it. You savor the feel of his lips moving against yours, the softness of his touch at your waist pulling you just a little closer until your bodies are fully pressed together. It’s like you’re both tasting the moment, letting it unfold naturally, as if the kiss has been building for longer than either of you realized.

Satoru’s hands slide up your back, the warmth of his palms seeping through the fabric of your shirt as he deepens the kiss, tilting his head just slightly to the side to get closer, to feel more of you. His mouth moves against yours in a slow, languid dance, as though he’s content to take his time, exploring each second, each shift in the way your lips meet. His fingers curl into the material of your shirt, gripping just enough to hold you in place, but not with any force—just enough to keep you tethered to him.

You respond in kind, your arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer still, your lips parting slightly to allow him deeper access. The kiss remains slow, unhurried, but with each passing second, the intensity builds. His tongue traces the edge of your lips before slipping between them, the warmth of him flooding your senses as you lose yourself in the sensation. The room around you seems to disappear, the dim lights and soft shadows fading into the background as the kiss becomes the center of everything.

Your fingers thread into the soft strands of his hair, pulling gently, and you feel a low hum rumble in his chest in response. It sends a shiver down your spine, the sound of his contentment deepening the connection between you both. There’s a sense of playfulness still, but it’s mingled with something deeper, more real. The curiosity you both had about what might happen has been replaced with a quiet certainty—this is happening, and neither of you wants it to stop.

The kiss grows deeper, more insistent, but it never loses that lazy, slow rhythm you’ve both settled into. It’s as if you’re both savoring every second, every brush of lips and hands, letting the moment stretch as long as possible without rushing into anything too fast.

You tilt your head, responding to the way his mouth moves against yours, your body molding against his as you press closer, feeling the heat radiate from him. His scent, his presence, his touch—all of it overwhelms your senses, drowning out everything else but the two of you standing here, exploring this new territory with slow, deliberate care.

His hands tighten on your hips as the kiss deepens further, his tongue brushing against yours in a lazy, teasing way that makes your knees weaken just slightly. It’s like he’s tasting you, savoring the way your bodies move together, your breath mingling with his in the soft quiet of the room.

Finally, when the need for air becomes undeniable, you pull back just slightly, your lips still grazing his as you both catch your breath. The air between you feels charged, the soft hum of tension still simmering but not quite boiling over. You can feel the heat between your bodies, the way your breaths are still shallow, mingling in the small space between you.

Satoru’s forehead rests gently against yours, his breath warm against your lips, and you can feel the faintest smile tugging at his mouth. His hands remain at your hips, keeping you close, and though the kiss has ended for now, the connection between you hasn’t weakened.

His voice is low, almost a murmur, as he speaks against your lips. "That wasn’t exactly what I had in mind when I came here tonight," he says, his tone teasing but soft, like he’s letting you in on a secret.

You smile, your fingers still tangled in his hair as you gently pull back just enough to look into his eyes. "What did you have in mind then?" you ask, your voice equally soft, your breath still shaky from the kiss.

Satoru chuckles, his thumb brushing lightly against your side. "Honestly? I don’t know anymore." There’s a softness in his gaze now, something far more genuine than the playful smirk he usually wears. "But I think I like where this is going."

You smile, feeling the warmth of his hands still resting on your hips, the way his body remains so close to yours. The lazy, intimate energy that had been simmering between you all night has deepened, but there’s no rush to push things further just yet. You both seem content to let this moment stretch, to keep testing the waters and seeing where it leads.

You pull back just slightly, your hands still resting on his shoulders as you tilt your head, giving him a teasing look. "So, you’re not regretting showing up unannounced?"

Satoru grins, his eyes glinting in the dim light as he shakes his head. "Regret? Nah, not my style."

You laugh softly, leaning into the warmth of his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palms. "Good," you murmur, your voice soft but playful. "Because I wasn’t exactly planning on this either… but I’m not complaining."

"I like this side of you," he says quietly, his voice low, the teasing edge tempered by something softer, more sincere. "The confidence, the way you take control. It's different."

You meet his gaze, your own smile growing as you feel the weight of his words settle between you. "Maybe you bring it out of me," you reply, your tone matching his, slow and curious.

Satoru’s grin softens into something warmer, more intimate. "Maybe I do." His hand moves to cup your cheek gently, his thumb brushing over your skin in a tender, lingering caress. "And maybe… we should see where this goes."

The question hangs in the air between you, but there’s no pressure, no rush. It’s an invitation, a gentle promise that you both have all the time in the world to explore whatever this is, at your own pace.

You smile, leaning into his touch, feeling the warmth of his hand on your skin, and you nod, your voice barely above a whisper as you say, "Yeah. Let’s see where this goes."

The night had stretched on, a slow, lazy rhythm that matched the soft hum of energy between you and Satoru. What began with teasing touches and lingering kisses had transitioned into something deeper, more intimate. The dim light, the quiet, the way the air seemed to hold only the two of you—it all added to the steady, unhurried exploration of each other. You could still feel the warmth of his hands on your skin, the soft brush of his lips on yours, the quiet laughter shared between more tender moments.

The details of the night blurred together, wrapped in the haze of half-whispered words and languid touches. The way he had pulled you closer, bodies fitting perfectly against one another as though you'd known each other in this way far longer than just one night. The warmth of his breath at your ear as he murmured something teasing, something that made your heart flutter and your skin tingle with anticipation. You had let yourself sink into the moment, the feeling of being wrapped up in him, of giving and receiving in a slow, steady rhythm.

And then the stillness afterward—the quiet between you as you lay together, breath steady, heartbeats calming. His arm had draped lazily over your waist, and your head had found a place on his chest, rising and falling with the rhythm of his breathing. There were no words, no need for explanations. The night had unfolded in a way that felt natural, as though it was meant to be.

Now, the morning light filtered softly through the curtains, casting a warm, golden hue across the room. The air was still quiet, the city sounds outside muted and distant. You stirred slightly, feeling the sheets cool against your skin as you shifted. A soft hum escaped your lips as you blinked your eyes open, the remnants of sleep clinging to you.

Satoru was still beside you, lying on his back, one arm loosely thrown over his head, the other resting gently at his side. His silver hair caught the morning light, messy from sleep but somehow still perfect in that infuriatingly effortless way of his. His sunglasses were nowhere to be seen, and his eyes—those brilliant blue eyes—were closed, his expression soft and peaceful in the early light.

You couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him like this, the usual confidence and cocky demeanor replaced with something more relaxed, more real. For a moment, you just watched him, the memory of the night before still fresh in your mind, the warmth of it settling over you like a blanket. It felt like a secret shared between the two of you, something just for you to hold onto.

Carefully, you shifted, slipping out of bed as quietly as you could, not wanting to disturb him just yet. The cool floor against your feet grounded you, bringing you fully into the present as you padded softly across the room. You found one of his shirts—something he must’ve discarded at some point in the night—and pulled it over your head, the fabric soft and warm, carrying the faint scent of him.

The room felt different in the morning light, the soft shadows from last night replaced with a golden glow. Everything felt quieter now, the intimacy of the night lingering in the air. You moved to the window, pulling the curtains back just slightly to let more light in, the city below beginning to wake up, though the world inside your room still felt like it was suspended in its own private moment.

Behind you, you heard the soft rustle of sheets, and when you turned back, Satoru had stirred. His eyes fluttered open, blinking against the light, and he stretched lazily, a small grin spreading across his face when he saw you standing there.

"Morning," he murmured, his voice thick with sleep but laced with that familiar teasing tone.

"Morning," you replied softly, leaning against the window frame, your smile mirroring his.

Satoru propped himself up on one elbow, the sheets pooling around his waist as he gave you a once-over, his grin widening when he noticed you wearing his shirt. "Looks good on you," he said, his voice still carrying that lazy, slow rhythm from the night before.

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. "Thought I’d steal it," you teased.

"By all means," he replied with a chuckle, stretching his arms above his head in a slow, languid motion, the muscles in his chest and shoulders shifting under the morning light. "It’s a good look."

There was something so easy about this moment—no awkwardness, no rush to define anything. Just the two of you, the intimacy of the night still hanging between you, soft and unspoken. Satoru leaned back against the headboard, his eyes lazily tracing your movements as you crossed the room, coming back toward the bed.

"You sleep okay?" you asked, sitting down on the edge of the bed, feeling the warmth of his body next to you even through the thin layer of sheets.

"Like a baby," he murmured, his grin softening as he reached out, his hand finding your knee and giving it a gentle squeeze. "You?"

You nodded, your smile growing as you thought back to the comfort of falling asleep next to him, the quiet after the slow, intimate dance you'd shared. "Better than I have in a while."

Satoru’s fingers trailed lazily up your thigh, his touch warm and unhurried, just like everything else about this morning. He seemed content to take his time, to let the quiet intimacy between you both linger in the air. His eyes held yours, a slow, knowing smile playing at the corners of his lips.

"Good," he murmured, his voice low and smooth, still carrying that lazy, teasing quality from the night before. "Though I wouldn’t mind a repeat performance if you’re up for it."

You laughed softly, shaking your head as you nudged him playfully. "You never change, do you?"

His grin widened, and he gave a small shrug, his hand sliding down your leg before coming to rest on the bed beside him. "What can I say? I’m consistent."

The lightness in his voice made you smile, and you leaned down, brushing a soft kiss against his lips before pulling back and standing again. "Let’s start with coffee first, shall we?"

Satoru let out a dramatic sigh, flopping back onto the bed with an exaggerated groan. "Fine. But only because you make it sound tempting."

As you moved toward the small kitchenette, you could still feel the warmth of his gaze on you, his presence filling the room even in the quiet of the morning. The night before had been unexpected, yes—but somehow, it felt like the natural progression of whatever had been brewing between you for so long. And as the morning stretched on, with the scent of coffee beginning to fill the air, you couldn’t help but feel like this was only the beginning of something even more exciting.

Something worth exploring.

notes: i'm so sorry this is this long - but i had to keep writing uahdsuhudsh

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ahllohehn · 3 days

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Uh, here's the infodump of another hermitshipping AU I have no confidence I will finish. As another answer to Castor's ask

For all his life, Mumbo believed that he was difficult to love. Though, yes, he was quite tall, gentlemanly, and had a lovely mustache– features that would attract plenty of people, but that’s not enough to show the world how much of a mess he actually is.

He preferred work over playing, spectating over participating, making art instead of finding love… Yeah, Mumbo had long concluded that he wasn’t cut out for a married life at all.

So when someone as lovely as Grian came around saying; “I like you.” Mumbo found it hard to believe.

At the time, Mumbo had thought that Grian approached him either out of pity or because some friend had dared him to. At least, the blonde man had looked like he was forced there, judging by the way he kept fidgeting on the spot and was so red in the face he couldn’t meet Mumbo’s eyes. So Mumbo, without even questioning anything else, had just agreed to go out with him in hopes that he would help out the man from whatever predicament he got himself in.

At the time, he thought the relief and surprise on Grian’s face had been a silent expression of gratefulness for Mumbo’s mercy- for just agreeing to date him to get things over with. The raven haired man thought that he was being a hero to the gentleman in distress.

Mumbo went through about 15 dates with the man, suppressing urges to actually fall in love, fully expecting Grian to eventually break up and fess up that he won the bet with his friends and that they could both finally go back to their individual boring lives.

Mumbo waited.

Waited even after he took Grian into his apartment after his family had kicked him out.

Waited even after the 5 cups of coffee he brewed for Grian when was having a particularly busy night for an architectural project.

Waited even after they were both able to get up on the stage and get their diplomas together.

Waited even after they celebrated getting their first jobs together.

Even after deciding to get a house together…

Even after deciding to sleep on the same bed…

Even after they exchanged vows…

And it was during dinner when Mumbo was zoning out did he realize;

“Wait, this wasn’t how it was supposed to go,” he mumbled out in surprise, causing Grian beside him to raise an eyebrow at him in confusion.

“What wasn’t how it was supposed to go?”

Mumbo opened and closed his mouth, staring at his husband in disbelief. In disbelief that he isn’t in college anymore, that they weren’t just “dating” anymore.

They’re literally both sitting here, eating warm dinner together, under the same house they both own, way past the newlywed stage, and not at all broken up like how Mumbo had expected since the start.

“When are you divorcing me?” he blurted out mid-thought.

A loud ‘CLANK’ rang out at the dinner table as Grian dropped his fork, causing Mumbo to flinch violently in reaction, before then proceeding to outright shiver in fear as Grian’s expression turned from confusion to something akin to incredulity.

It was then that Mumbo realized what he had just said.

“What did you just say?” Grian stared at him with widened eyes. Mumbo swallowed nervously and was failing to meet the other’s eyes. He needed to explain himself quick.

“I-it’s just, you know! Are you not unhappy with having to stick with me for this long? I would’ve thought–” Mumbo was cut off by a slam to the table. He would’ve gone on a tangent about how Grian must’ve made a mistake to stick with him for this long 7 years into their marriage, but he was at least smart enough to know not to continue that monologue.

Not especially when Grian, who was rarely actually mad, was actually mad.

“Why on earth would you think that? What makes you think I think that?” Grian’s face was scrunched up in an offended manner, he kept an intense gaze on the taller’s figure, urging for an answer.

Mumbo’s shoulders were hiked up to his ears, “Didn’t you marry me out of pity?” His voice came out squeaky, almost as if even his lungs were scared to work under Grian’s scrutinizing gaze.

“Would I marry someone out of pity?!”

“M-Maybe?! Didn’t you just date me because you were forced to?”

Grian’s jaw dropped and he looked at Mumbo as if he grew a second head. He hunched over the table and buried his face into his hands, letting out an extremely tired sigh that made Mumbo hesitate on whether he should take back everything he said and go reach out to comfort the man.

Not that he was given a chance to, Grian didn’t even meet his eyes as he stood up snappily, the chair screeching against their floor, “Good heavens, I need a moment,” and so he left, stomping off to their shared bedroom and leaving a cold half-eaten plate of dinner on the table.

Mumbo stared at his own plate with dread.

It was when the loneliness he prepared himself to get used to long ago settled over the dining table did he realize his situation; he’s not as prepared as he thought he was for a lonely life and he pissed off Grian. Even worse, he probably hurt him.

Mumbo could’ve sworn his own wedding vows had said he promised he wouldn’t do that.

“Pants.”

<hr>

Mumbo was having a bad day, although that’s mainly his fault and his fault only.

He went to the studio earlier than usual. 2 hours earlier than usual, but that’s to be the case when you can’t really get any more proper sleep on a couch that’s smaller than your own person.

After spending a gruesome dinner alone (or rather sitting at the dinner table silently questioning your life before deciding to put the leftovers away and cleaning up), Grian had expectedly locked him out of their bedroom. Mumbo had to remind himself over and over again through an uncomfortable cold, blanket-less night that this was the consequence of his own actions so he has no right to complain.

He found himself grateful for Grian who decided to unlock the bedroom door some time in the middle of the morning to let Mumbo have access to his clothes at least. Although it was uncomfortable to tip-toe around the bedroom to avoid awakening the sleeping monster on the bed while preparing for work.

The scariest part was actually finishing preparations and leaving the room, thinking you had completed the stealth mission successfully, only to find out you didn’t. He hadn’t known Grian was awake the entire time until he heard a soft call from the bed.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?” the monster of the bed had said. Mumbo swallowed and lingered by the bedroom door, looking around nervously as if to truly put thought into his answer, “Um, g-g-good morning?”

“....” Grian pushed him out of the room and slammed the door on him.

“I messed up even more,” Mumbo groaned in remembrance of the scene this morning and melted into his office chair, barely paying any attention to the emails on his monitor screen. He thought diving into work would distract him from reminding him of how he ruined his marriage, but the dullness of work just had him thinking even more than he did back at home.

Grian wasn’t around, so Mumbo’s brain finally had the space to worry more about the situation rather than worry about sneaking around his own house. It left him tired, adding to the fact that he barely has any sleep.

He was too tired to react even to the sound of someone knocking on his door frame before rudely stepping into his office anyway.

“Well, don’t you look horrible,” newly entered Iskall pointed out with a worried but amused grin, putting down a cup of coffee on Mumbo’s desk, right next to the other empty paper cups of coffee. 4 empty cups to signal just how much he’s been chugging since this morning.

Mumbo did look horrible, “I’m very aware,” His eyebags that had always been there looked a lot more prominent now. His usually styled hair was unruly, strands sticking out in all directions. He looked as if he was there working since 2 days ago, but really, he’s only been clocked in for almost 3 hours, “Just started the day wrong.”

“What? Woke up on the wrong side of bed or something?”

Mumbo winced and brushed his hair back, tugging at it in stress, “I didn’t even wake up on a bed.”

Iskall didn’t respond immediately, staring at Mumbo like he was trying to understand what he was getting at. When his brain did finally come to a conclusion with the small hints Mumbo presented, he put on a dramatic look of shock, “Have you finally reached that stage of marriage in which the wife punishes her unruly husband by making him sleep on the couch?”

The raven haired sent a deadpan stare over to Iskall’s direction, making the man backtrack and change his tone, “Serious situation? Alright, I’ll bite. What’s up with your oh-so-seemingly-perfect marriage?”

“I think I made Grian mad,” Mumbo wasn’t one to talk too much about his relationships, as it had no connection to his work whatsoever and he didn’t really want to attach himself to the relationship too much considering that he genuinely did think there was soon to be an ending to it.

But now, seeing that his husband was actually throwing an angry tantrum for a rare time of his life, his brain is suddenly throwing all other thoughts out the window. It was as if he’s just forgotten that he was expecting Grian to have an incentive to leave him, now just focused on making Grian feel better because some part of his brain went through an ick seeing the man so devastated.

“I-I was just… I questioned when he was filing for divorce because I thought he would’ve left me all those years ago already. I thought he was staying because he felt guilty enough to commit to the bit… or some sort.”

The way Iskall’s face scrunched up incredulity reminded Mumbo of how Grian did the same, “You went through college together, made your friends suffer your disgusting pining all throughout, graduated together, shared a kiss at the marriage altar, and you still actually think Grian has just been staying with you because he felt bad for you,” Mumbo nodded along.

“The entire decade he spent with you because you thought HE PITIED YOU?”

Mumbo hesitated before nodding again, but more sheepishly. Iskall looked as if he didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, which made the raven haired even more embarrassed for some reason. Mapping it all out, he knows it’s all stupid, but he hardwired his brain to long expect the worst for himself already. Mumbo genuinely felt that there was no way someone as good as Grian was allowed in his life.

There should’ve been a better possible world where Grian is happier, only to be stopped by none other than himself.

“Geez, if I were your husband, I’d throw a fit over you bringing up divorce too. Even more when you seem like you’re encouraging me to do it after dedicating my entire life to you.”

“But you’re not my husband,” Mumbo said defensively.

Iskall raised his hands up in surrender, “Chill, dude. I’m no homewrecker. Grian would cut off a limb if I even begin to think you’re my type.”

Mumbo huffs, “You’re so unhelpful.”

“I just asked what’s up, not that I offered to give you actual advice.”

Fair enough. He did say that.

Seeing as the conversation was going nowhere, Mumbo rested his head on the table frustratingly, his brain continuing to work overtime on trying to find solutions or explanations to this situation. Iskall pitifully patted him on the back as he silently tried to get his life together again.

“Do you really think he cares enough?” Mumbo finally spoke, causing his co-worker to snap out of his own daze and looking at him questioningly. The mustached man rose up from his awkward position and reiterated his statement, “Does he actually care enough to cut off your limbs?”

Iskall took his arm back to his side and slowly backed out of the office, squinting his eyes at Mumbo suspiciously, “I don’t think you’re aware as to how much Grian truly cares…”

Mumbo raised an eyebrow, his eyes following Iskall backing away, “Wh- Where are you going? It’s not like he’d actually go and cut off your limbs. It was a hypothetical question!”

“You really aren’t aware,” and Mumbo wasn’t even given anymore time to react before Iskall ran out of his office like his life actually depended on it.

<hr>

#This was one of the AUs that was meant to get a 'book cover'#It didn't continue because of college #It's not angsty #It was meant to be a comedic romance lol #hermitshipping #grumbo #mumbo jumbo #grian #hermitshipping au #ahllhohehn cant stfu

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pandapetals · 2 days

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Bed Chem

logan howlett x !reader - inspired by sabrina carpenter's song bed chem, implied sexual tension, fluff, short, no use of y/n, no reader description.

The moment you met Logan you felt sexual tension.

read on Ao3

You were in a rush, your eyes darting across the unfamiliar halls, trying to make sense of your new surroundings. Being hired as a professor mid-semester was stressful enough, but the endless handshakes and quick exchanges with new colleagues only added to the chaos.

You’d barely had time to gather your bearings when you crossed paths with him.

A quick, almost careless introduction—just a second to exchange pleasantries before you had to rush to your classroom. But in that brief moment, he caught your attention.

Logan.

Broad shoulders. Rugged features. That infuriatingly smug smile. He was wearing a tight white tank top and faded jeans that clung to him like an afterthought as if he’d just stepped out of a fight or something equally rough-edged. His skin glistened faintly like the day had been harder on him than it had on everyone else.

He’d said something—hello, you think—but the words barely registered. It was the way he looked at you, the way his eyes lingered just a second too long, that left you unsettled. Intrigued.

Then he was gone, striding off like he had somewhere more important to be. Like you were just another face in a crowd he could forget but you couldn’t forget him.

In the days that followed, you found yourself lingering in hallways you wouldn’t usually walk, peeking into faculty lounges just a little longer than necessary, hoping for a glimpse of him. It was ridiculous, a silly crush, you kept telling yourself. But the more you tried to shake the thought of him, the more he seemed to linger in your mind.

Maybe it was the way he carried himself—effortlessly confident as if he knew the effect he had on people. Or maybe it was something deeper, something magnetic in the air whenever he was near.

You couldn’t deny the way your pulse quickened when he entered a room, the subtle tension that buzzed between you whenever your eyes met across the faculty lounge. You’d catch yourself glancing at the door, hoping he’d walk in. And when he did, your heart would give a little jolt before you masked it with the casual professionalism expected of you.

It didn’t help that Logan seemed to be everywhere, too. Standing a little too close when you were making coffee, his arm brushing yours like it was nothing. Catching your eye from across the lecture hall as you both dismissed your classes at the same time. The heat of his presence always seemed to follow, lingering in the air long after he left.

One afternoon, after a particularly chaotic day of back-to-back lectures, you found yourself in the staff kitchen, mindlessly stirring a cup of tea, when Logan appeared in the doorway. Your eyes flicked to him automatically, but you pretended not to notice—until he spoke.

“Busy day?” he asked, his voice low, smooth, the kind that felt like it belonged in a different kind of conversation, not casual work chatter.

You nodded, feeling your skin prickle under his gaze, the kind of attention that felt heavy even when he wasn’t touching you. “Something like that.”

He stepped inside, leaning against the counter, far too casual for the energy simmering between you. “You adjusting alright?” His eyes didn’t leave yours like he was asking something else entirely.

You took a slow sip of your tea, trying to play it cool, but the way his gaze dropped to your lips didn’t help. “I’m getting there,” you replied, though the steadiness in your voice surprised even you.

Logan’s smirk deepened, a glint of amusement lighting his eyes. “Good to hear.”

There it was again—that electric charge, like the air, was thickening between you, heavy with something unspoken.

You hadn’t realized he’d moved closer until the scent of him reached you—clean sweat, the faintest hint of aftershave, and something more raw underneath it all. Your breath hitched, just barely, but enough that you noticed.

His eyes, dark and intense, flicked to your lips again, lingering. The room suddenly felt smaller. Warmer.

“You know,” he said, voice dropping lower, “I’ve noticed you’ve been around a lot more lately.”

Your heart jumped, and you quickly lowered your cup, clearing your throat as if the warmth of the tea had nothing to do with the flush creeping up your neck. “Really?” You tried for nonchalance, but even you could hear the slight edge of nervousness in your voice.

Logan took another step closer, his body now only inches from yours, his presence overwhelming. “Yeah,” he murmured, his gaze heavy with meaning. “Funny how I seem to be bumping into you everywhere.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words caught in your throat. His eyes held yours, and for a second, everything else—the chaos of the semester, the stress, the students, the deadlines—faded into the background. It was just him, just you, and the sharp, undeniable tension threading between you both.

The cup in your hand suddenly felt too hot, like it was burning through your skin. You set it down on the counter, your fingers brushing against his arm in the process.

That was all it took.

Logan’s hand moved, fingers sliding around your waist, not hesitating this time. The touch was firm, and possessive, like he had been waiting for an excuse. The contact sent a wave of heat through you, your breath catching again as your body instinctively leaned into his.

“You’ve been driving me crazy,” he muttered, his lips just inches from your ear now, the words barely above a whisper but charged with heat. “You know that?”

You swallowed hard, your mind racing, your heart hammering against your chest. But instead of pulling away, you found yourself drawn closer, the magnetic pull between you undeniable.

“I—” you started, but his hand tightened on your waist, pulling you flush against him, his other hand coming up to cradle the side of your face, his thumb brushing your cheek with the lightest of touches.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Logan whispered, his lips grazing your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “I can feel it, too.”

For a moment, the world seemed to stop—no more classrooms, no more faculty lounges, no more rules. Just the heat between you, the chemistry that had been simmering for days now boiling over.

Before you could catch your breath, his lips were on yours.

#fluff #wolverine #x men wolverine #james logan howlett #logan howlett #logan howlett x you #x men logan #cute #inspired by sabrina carpenter #bed chem #implied smut #logan x reader #logan xmen #logan x you #marvel #mcu #one shot #drabble #reader insert

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witchofsparkles · 1 day

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Ghost was not having a very good day. It wasn’t the job in particular because it was expected of him to be used to it by now after 15 years of service; it was because the man right next to him grinning ear to ear as if he didn't just come out of a bloody combat with explosives, terrorists and flying limbs. The limbs were not belong to them, god bless, but especially the explosives were their doing.

Not theirs as a team, but the man who has a nasty smile's.

The explosives belonged to the reason of his headache for months, Soap.

Ghost tried not to fall for Soap's banter, but his mouth didn't know better. Even though he couldn’t even hear what the man was saying, Ghost replied sarcastically. "Yeah, Johnny. Sure, whatever you say."

What other answer there that could be said to everything? Yeah, sure. Whatever. Just please stop talking.

"You do think I'm pretty? Oh, that’s flattering. Thank you, sir. Please write that in the report so Price can see my charm too. It would work better coming from you, the big man with the mask." Ghost almost tripped down from the heli and crashed onto the mountains thousands fits down and at that moment he didn't think he would mind a good head trauma with a highly possible death.

He though to put a stop to it, to ruin the mood, but decided against. Ghost couldn’t avert his gaze fast enough, and his eyes locked with Soap for a split second. The carefree smile Soap sent to Ghost made his stomach flutter.

And Ghost would drink bleach if he knew it would kill the butterflies in his stomach.

Yeah, there was another reason for his headache and bad times in general.

Ghost was down bad in love with his Sergeant, John MacTavish.

Ghost watched Soap walking into the base with the other soldiers, laughing loudly and looking all hot in bloody gear. Ghost just stood next to the heli silently, tried to appear like he was busy with something, and checked Soap's back out. Ghost knew he wasn’t injured or anything, but who could be sure? In the heat of the war, blood full of adrenalin, everybody could make mistakes.

The reason of his gaze was purely professional and had nothing to do with how Soap's ass was moving with his every step. Totally.

"You might wanna take your chances, you know that right?" Ghost almost jumped out of his skin and his hand went to his knife reflexively.

"You know better to not sneak up on me, Price." Ghost relaxed his stance and put the knife back. Price was smiling at him.

"And I know that I can give you a very hard time if we had to fight. Anyway. You pray that there's a mask on your face. With how obvious you're about staring at Johnny, even my dead mom can come up and laugh at you."

Ghost inhaled sharply. "You call him Johnny again, we will see about that fight."

A laugh escaped Price. "God. Calm down, son. No one's taking him. Fine, I won't call him that. Jesus."

Ghost rolled his eyes. He wasn’t feeling like talking and yet he couldn’t shut up today. Also, he didn't want to think about Price's implication. "Why are you here? I was coming to report."

Price stroked his mustache, and that made Ghost's stomach drop with worry. "Why is your hand on your mustache? Who died?"

Price threw him a dirty look. "Why do everyone think like that when they see me? No one died. Not yet. And hopefully never. I changed my mind. You go rest, we will talk later when all of you available."

"You said no one died, yet. Why don't we talk now?" Ghost's knuckles were white from holding his west so hard. Something bad happened, he knew it.

Price stared at him again, a little longer than a second. "It's nothing out of ordinary. Just our everyday madness. You look like shit, and Soap looked like shit. If the only sane one is Gaz among you, I fear everyone will die. So, go rest. I will call you when you can open both of your eyes at will."

Ghost couldn’t sleep. It was expected, after how Price teased him with an apocalypse. In his mind, at least. If he didn't think the worst could happen, he wouldn’t be Ghost. He was so tense that Ghost thought his skin was gonna tear apart. His headache from the explosions was worse, and every single one of his muscles were hurting.

All stopped when he saw Johnny sitting at where Ghost was usually sitting. It was his secret place, a tiny corner with no noise and just darkness. The place he would come when the sleep didn't.

"Why are you here?" Ghost would love it if he didn't sound like a goddamn incubus.

Soap jumped, expectedly. Turned to him sharply, then took a deep breath when he saw who was it. "You almost had to file a suspicious dead report on me. Stop creating work for yourself."

Ghost snickered, that’s how his Johnny was. He was acting like a class clown, but Ghost wasn’t believing in that. All that laughing and joking, it was almost impossible in this job. When all you could see was the dead, your voice was turning into a whisper.

It was sadness that consumes you.

"It would take a lot more to kill you, Johnny." Ghost's voice was always deep, but for some reason it deepened. Like he was sharing a secret. Almost a whisper.

Johnny's eyes shimmered under the dim lights. They looked like stars for a moment, then Ghost corrected himself. Not stars, explosions. Fireworks.

"Is everything okay? Why don't you sleep? Were you thinking about something?" Johnny was looking up to him from where he was sitting, and Ghost was looking down. He wanted to take Johnny's face between his hands and brush the stubble at the corner of his mouth. He wanted to crash into his lips, taste him with his tongue, just sweep it across Johnny's lips and inside his mouth, feel the hot wetness of his saliva around his own tongue, to get Johnny's tongue in his mouth and crowd him in, to be able to get a fistful of Johnny's stupid mohawk while kissing with a lust that would shame Jesus himself that he would have to look away, he wanted to touch Johnny's every bit on his back and kiss him from his neck to down his happy trail, he wanted to be able to touch at the tip of him with just only a finger and make him moan for more-

"I was thinking about you."

Rest is on ao3:

#ghoap #ghostsoap #soapghost #mw2 #cod #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod ghost #cod soap #simon riley #simon ghost riley #john mactavish #john soap mactavish #fanfic #fanfiction #fiction #ao3 #ao3 fanfic

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veronicaphoenix · 11 hours

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zutto — chapter seven | wc: 5.7k | series masterpost | prev. chapter

Chapter summary: Lia and Noah meet everyone again at Noah's house. Lia finds a familiar book in Noah's room and Noah catches her reading it, which leads to an inevitable conversation. Reading time: 22mins. aprox.

Tags and trigger warnings: fluff, one or two mentions of Lia's overdose, slight anxiety, alcohol intake, sexual innuendos, talks about bondage, one use of the word blowjob, noah on his knees, implied oral sex (fem. receiving).

General trigger warnings: this work addresses and depicts issues related to addiction, abuse, & violence, contains explicit sexual content, and explores themes of childhood trauma. Reader discretion is advised. +18

Returning to Noah’s house meant facing not only the people who lived there but also anyone else who might have dropped by that afternoon. Lia’s anxiety intensified during the drive from Santa Monica Place.

Though she’d been nervous earlier, the time spent hand in hand with Noah at the mall had temporarily eased her tension. Now, however, the reality of confronting her friends and dealing with the consequences of her actions weighed on her. Shame, guilt, weakness… What would they think of her? Would they look at her with different eyes? Whatever it was, she had to push forward and deal with it.

As they pulled into the driveway, Lia stepped out of the car and took a deep breath, following Noah. He glanced back to check on her.

Inside, they were immediately met by Jesse and Jolly, who bypassed Noah and rushed to hug Lia, bombarding her with the same concerned questions on repeat. Moments later, Matt emerged from the studio at the back of the house, giving Noah a quick brotherly hug before turning to Lia. He pulled her into his arms for a few seconds, then stepped back to study her closely.

“You look good,” he said, genuine relief in his voice.

“Thank Noah,” Lia replied.

Noah smiled, casually tossing his hoodie onto the sofa—one of his familiar habits. He noticed immediately that the living room and kitchen were a bit of a mess: dishes piled up in the sink, blankets on the sofa crumpled and unfolded.

“No one bothered to clean up while I was gone?” He asked, though his tone was lighthearted.

“Dude, we had lunch an hour ago and spent the morning being lazy,” Jolly explained, heading into the kitchen and announcing he was going to make coffee for everyone.

He busied himself at the same time Matt mentioned that the two Nicks were on their way over.

The anxiety Lia had about meeting everyone again after being cooped up in her apartment with Noah for what felt like forever—only leaving for her therapy sessions and exchanging a few scattered phone calls with Emery, Jolly, and Folio—faded surprisingly fast. Within five minutes, all the tension melted away. She wasn’t sure what she had expected—maybe judgment, maybe that she’d somehow lost their love or the bond they shared—but before she knew it, the boys were being boys, and it was like nothing had ever changed.

The Nicks and Mike showed up just in time to join the group for coffee. They all gathered around the wide kitchen island, some sitting, others leaning against counters as they shared stuff about the last few days. Conversations drifted easily—someone mentioned a ridiculous late-night craving, Nicholas recounted a failed attempt at cooking dinner, and Jesse imitated Mike’s dramatic reaction to his favorite sports team losing.

Then, Matt brought up work, and that’s when Lia noticed Noah’s energy shift. His face tightened with focus, and in an instant, the playful, relaxed version of him gave way to something more intense. It was like she could see the gears in his head turning. He didn’t even finish his coffee before he headed to the studio with Matt and Mike, already in work-mode.

Lia stayed behind in the living room with the Nicks, Jolly, and Jesse. An hour later, the air felt lighter, and every once in a while, Folio would nudge her, asking if she was okay. A few moments later, Jolly chimed in, wondering aloud if she needed another coffee, but she didn’t. In fact, she realized she was childhishly missing Noah. They had spent nearly every minute together over the last few days, so much so that now, with him gone—to the studio at the other end of the house—for not even an hour, her fingers tingled with the urge to find him, to touch him.

She must have zoned out, because when she refocused on the conversation, Folio and Jolly were holding ten-dollar bills that Jesse and Nicholas had taken out from their wallets.

“What’s going on?” Lia asked, furrowing her brows. “You guys into drug dealing now?”

Jolly chuckled. “Nah. Better than that.”

“We made a bet,” Folio explained with a smirk. “Noah couldn’t convince you to cancel the trip. Jesse and Nick were betting he could.”

“They underestimated the power you have over that man,” Jolly added, folding the bill and keeping it in his pocket.

Lia ducked her head slightly to hide the warmth rising to her cheeks. They still didn’t know the full story, and she couldn’t find the courage to tell them yet. She couldn’t help but wonder if there might be another bet on the table—maybe one that involved how long it would take her and Noah to get together.

“Has he been taking good care of you?” Jolly asked.

It was a joke, for he knew the answer to that. But she understood the deeper question there. They wanted to know if she was really okay, and if Noah had been what she needed during this rough time.

“He’s been great,” she said, lifting her chin slightly, a soft smile on her face. “Really great.”

Jolly and Jesse exchanged a look, trying to read into the way she said it. Lia caught their glance and couldn’t help but laugh.

“He’s even done the dishes every single day,” she added. “Can’t complain.”

“Complain about?” Noah’s voice echoed through the hallway. It took him no more than three seconds to appear and enter the living room, smiling brightly at Lia, a sense of calm washing over him as he confirmed she was okay. She looked comfortable and at ease, surrounded by the people they both cared about.

“About your bad habits,” Nicholas muttered, grinning. “Like leaving dirty socks all over the house and all the kitchen drawers open.”

Noah frowned, clearly confused.

“I don’t do that,” he said, crossing the room and leaning one knee on the armrest of the sofa to reach behind Lia, placing a soft, absentminded kiss on her hair. No one seemed to care or be surprised by the affection; it was just Noah and Lia, the way they’d always been—close, comfortable, unspoken warmth between them.

“I know,” Lia said, tilting her head back to look up at him with a smile. “Don’t listen to them. I told them you’ve been a good boy.”

“I am a good boy. I just finished my part of the work,” he emphasized, his eyes twinkling. “Now it’s your turn, guys. Go catch up on your stuff and stop being lazy—we’re heading out on tour in two weeks, and there’s still a lot to prep.” He looked pointedly at Nick. “We need a full gear check. Make sure the bass rig is solid, and everything’s tuned up. If anything’s busted, handle it now before we’re scrambling last minute. Same goes for you, Folio. We still have to lock in the tempo changes for the setlist. Let’s make sure you’ve got the click tracks lined up and that the drum kit’s in top shape. No last-minute issues like last tour. Matt and Mike are going through the logistics, so whatever you need to check on, guys, do it now. Tighten up your parts because in two weeks, we’re hitting the road hard.”

The group exchanged a mix of playful eye rolls and resigned nods. They knew the drill—work had to get done. Meanwhile, Lia couldn’t help but find his enthusiasm and ordering around extremely hot.

With a proud “that’s my boy”, Jolly stood up before following the others back to the studio and letting Folio disappear into the garage, where one of his drum kit’s was. In a matter of minutes, Lia and Jesse were the only ones left in the living room. Noah, true to his perfectionist nature, followed the boys back to the studio. He always had a hard time letting go when it came to work.

Jesse took the chance to show Lia some new ERRA merch ideas on his iPad. He swiped through a series of designs—hoodies, shirts, and hats—that featured bold artwork, some of which Lia immediately recognized as hers. They had used sketches she’d created the previous year, reworking them into something fresh and edgy, but still unmistakably hers.

“Look familiar?” Jesse asked with a grin, tapping the screen to show her a black hoodie with one of her intricate line drawings of a phoenix worked into a line from one of their latest songs. “We decided to tweak it a bit. I hope you don’t mind.”

Lia’s eyes lit up as she examined the designs more closely.

“Not at all. It looks incredible,” she said, a flush of pride warming her. She’d forgotten just how much she’d missed working on creative projects like this. “It looks so much better than the original.”

“We wanted it to match the vibe of the album a bit more. I thought about asking you, but considering everything that’s been going on, we didn’t want to overwhelm you. We figured we’d give it a shot ourselves. I don’t think it’s better than your original, but if you like it and are okay with it, we’re ready to send it to printing.”

Lia nodded enthusiastically, agreeing to it.

As they flipped through more mock-ups, Lia felt that familiar itch at her fingertips. After a few minutes of discussing the tweaks and color palettes, she couldn’t resist pulling out her sketchbook from her backpack. She began sketching new ideas for future possible merch—or perhaps an illustrated book—her pencil moving swiftly across the page.

When Noah finally reappeared, he smiled at the sight of her sketching. He slipped onto the couch between her and Jesse, but before he could say a word to Lia, Jesse roped him into discussing more of the merch designs.

“Check out this lineup,” Jesse said, showing Noah the pictures of the updated items. Noah nodded, half-distracted by the sight of Lia absorbed in her drawing next to him, but he engaged with Jesse, asking questions and giving his thoughts.

A few minutes after, Lia stood up to fix herself a mug of jasmine tea, her head still brimming with ideas. She wandered into the kitchen, completely unaware that Jesse had quietly slipped off to his room, leaving her and Noah alone.

She was just pouring the boiling water into one of her favorite mugs when she felt Noah’s familiar warmth at her back. His lips found her hair, and his nose brushed against her ear, sending a delightful shiver through her body.

“I missed you,” he whispered, his breath hot against her skin.

“You were just locked in the studio for an hour,” she replied, though her heart fluttered in her chest. She missed him too, but teasing him felt like the natural response. “That’s nothing compared to your usual routine.”

“I have a new routine now,” he said, his voice low, a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

“Oh?” She turned around, holding the mug in one hand, bringing it to her lips as she eyed him curiously. “You do?”

She took a slow sip, and Noah’s gaze fixed on her lips as they pressed against the rim of the mug. He watched the way she swallowed, the gentle curve of her throat.

“Yes,” he answered, almost breathless, his hands finding their place on her hips. His eyes darkened, the playful smirk growing more wicked by the second.

Lia swallowed the warm liquid, then deliberately licked her lips. She could feel his pulse quicken as he eyed the little action, and the power she had in that moment made her grin.

Noah’s jaw tightened.

“What do I have to do to get another blowjob from that pretty mouth of yours?”

Lia raised an eyebrow, pretending to consider his question.

“Hmm. I don’t know. Last night, you got me to four orgasms in a couple of hours. You set the bar pretty high. Maybe if you can top that...” Her voice dropped, teasing, “I might just get on my knees for you and do that thing with my tongue you seemed to like so much.”

Noah bit down on his lip, hard, his self-control hanging by a thread as he emited a sound similar to a growl. He shook his head slightly, trying to rein in his desire, but it was too much. He reached for the mug, gently taking it from Lia’s hand and setting it behind her on the counter. Then, without another word, he picked her up by the waist, turning them both around and placing her on the kitchen island.

His mouth crashed into hers, the kiss deep and hungry. Lia responded instantly, her hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer as she lost herself in the heat of the moment. She was breathless by the time they parted, but her eyes stayed locked on his, craving more.

Just as Noah’s hands slid up Lia’s sides, his lips still feverish against hers, they heard a sound. Startled, they both froze, turning toward the doorway to find Jesse standing there, wide-eyed and slack-jawed.

“Oh my… Fucking finally!” he exclaimed, his arms lifting in the air to then drop to his sides.

Noah sprang away from Lia, immediately trying to compose himself, cheeks flushed a deep red. He rubbed the back of his neck, a nervous laugh escaping as he looked anywhere but directly at Jesse. Lia, equally embarrassed, hopped down from the counter, smoothing her shirt, trying to hide the heat rising to her face.

Jesse, still grinning ear to ear, didn’t waste any time.

“Hey, guys! Get in here! You won’t believe this!” he shouted toward the studio, his voice carrying through the house.

Lia and Noah exchanged a panicked look as footsteps echoed down the hall. Before they could protest, the rest of the guys piled into the kitchen one by one. Jolly, Nicholas, and Mike were the first to enter, and the moment they saw Noah and Lia standing awkwardly with flushed cheeks next to each other, it clicked.

“Seriously? About damn time!”

The room erupted in cheers and whoops, and before Lia knew it, she was being swept into a hug from Jolly, then from Folio, and even Nicholas joined in with an exaggerated, “Congrats, you two lovebirds.”

Noah stood to the side, laughing nervously and trying to fend off Mike’s bear hug.

“You guys broke the record,” Mike said, shaking his head in disbelief. “Idiots in love who couldn’t see they were in love with each other. I’m amazed it took you this long.”

Matt entered the room, smirking knowingly. “So now we know what you’ve really been up to, locked in Lia’s apartment all these days, huh?”

The teasing had both Lia and Noah blushing again, though this time, it felt a bit easier.

Folio clapped his hands together, heading to the fridge. “Well, I guess this calls for a celebration. Who’s in for a beer?”

He stopped mid-reach when his eyes met Lia’s. There was a beat of silence, the group looking at her, suddenly remembering.

Lia, catching his hesitation, smiled softly. “It’s okay,” she reassured. “You don’t have to make it weird because I’m here. Go ahead, drink. It’s fine.”

Folio hesitated for a second, then nodded, relieved, and started passing out beers to the others. When he handed one to Noah, though, Noah declined.

“I’ll stick with tea,” Noah said casually, motioning to the kettle on the counter.

Lia glanced at him, her brow furrowing slightly. She noticed his quiet decision, wondering for a moment if it had something to do with her.

Jolly called Emery to come over, and soon after, Bryan and Davis joined them, Bryan arriving with several boxes of pizza in tow.

As the hours passed, it felt like old times again. Lia found herself sitting between Noah’s legs on the carpet, her back resting against his chest, as they indulged in different pizza flavors and shared jokes. Emery sat comfortably in Jolly’s arms on the couch, the two of them whispering to each other and stealing occasional kisses, and Bryan and Folio fought for the last slice of peperoni pizza, keeping the others entertained in their silly wrestling.

Lia felt a deep sense of gratitude as she cuddled in Noah’s arms and watched her friends. Despite everything she had gone through, here she was, surrounded by people who loved and supported her. It felt like nothing had changed, like the bond between them all was as strong as it’d always been.

The night wore on.

Lia and Emery eventually retreated to a quieter corner of the living room to talk. It felt comforting to reconnect with her best friend, knowing that despite everything, their friendship hand’t changed. Lia had struggled to be the supportive friend Emery deserved during her new relationship with Jolly; right when it began, she had fucked things up with Noah. When she apologized to Emery, she smiled reassuringly and said it was okay; that what mattered now was that they were all in a good place, and that she got her best friend back. Ah, and on top of that, they could now chat about their hot boyfriends, tease each other, and share bits about how good they were in bed.

Meanwhile, Jolly, Jesse, Noah, and Matt were standing in the kitchen, leaning against the counter, glancing occasionally toward Emery and Lia. They watched the latter, talking animatedly with her girlfriend, a glow of happiness on her face.

“She looks… different,” Jesse mentioned, his voice low but thoughtful.

“She looks happy,” Jolly corrected. He crossed his arms, a slight smile tugging at his lips.

Noah, who had been absently running his hand up and down his mug of tea, couldn’t take his eyes off her, mesmerized by the way she laughed and smiled. That’s how she wanted her, always —aside from in his bed, naked.

Matt, leaning against the counter beside him, nudged his side.

“You look good too, man. Did you two catch up on sleep, or have you been using your nights for some well-deserved sweet time?”

Noah wasn’t one to bask in the attention, especially when it came to him and Lia and their private bedroom matters. However, he couldn’t hide the smile that gave him away.

The night continued, and the city outside turned pitch black. The sounds in the apartment began to mellow, as everyone settled into their own rhythms. The Nicks, Bryan, and Matt had retreated to their video games, completely absorbed in their battle on the screen, while Jolly and Emery shared soft kisses in a quiet corner of the sofa.

Noah, always drawn back to work, had disappeared into the studio again with Mike, Davis, and Jesse, likely refining tour setlists or tweaking final production notes. As the group dispersed into their various corners, Lia found herself alone for the first time all night. She stood up quietly, leaving the lovebirds and the boys playing videogames behind, and made her way to Noah’s room.

The warmth of the evening was still wrapped around her, but a part of her longed for a moment alone. The air in the hallway was cooler, quieter. Once inside Noah’s room, she let out a long breath. The familiar scent of him filled the room—it smelled like home.

A small pile of her clothes still lay neatly in one of his drawers, and his bed remained perfectly made, just as it had been since they left for the US tour. She smiled at how organized and clean everything was, a reflection of Noah himself.

Her gaze lingered on the bed, and a flood of memories rushed back. Not long ago, she had slept in that very spot, bruised and heartbroken. The thought twisted her stomach, so she sat down in the armchair in the corner, trying to focus on the quieter, more peaceful moments she’d spent there—reading books or sketching while Noah took care of her.

But her eyes kept drifting back to the bed. She couldn’t help but think of the nights when Noah had held her through her nightmares, his presence always the comfort she needed.

Curling up in the armchair, she wrapped her arms around herself, sitting in silence for a few minutes.

Eventually, her attention was drawn to the stack of books on top of the drawer beside her. Absentmindedly, she read the titles until one caught her eye: The Seductive Art of Japanese Bondage, the words printed on the spine white and faded yellow.

She stared at it like it was Pandora’s box—something she shouldn’t open but couldn’t resist. Before she could stop herself, she reached out, picked it up, and flipped it open.

It started as an act of curiosity—the same curiosity that had led her to ask Noah about shibari in the first place—but it quickly became something more.

As Lia flipped through the pages, her interest on the topic seemed to grow. The book was a deep dive into the history and philosophy behind the practice. She learned about the origins of it, and how, over time, the martial art had evolved into the erotic art of shibari, shifting from control and confinement to an expression of trust, vulnerability, and intimate connection.

Many of the passages mentioned the meditative aspects of it, the idea of releasing control and being fully present in the moment. There was emphasis on the importance of trust between the participants—how the one being tied must surrender to the process, allowing themselves to be vulnerable, while the one tying held the responsibility of creating a safe and secure space. The knots themselves were described as more than just physical restraints; they were symbols of the bond between the partners, a delicate balance of power and intimacy.

The more she read, the more Lia saw how shibari could be about empowerment, not just surrender. The art required both participants to be attuned to each other, heightening their connection through every twist of the rope. It sounded like something she could benefit from, a way to rebuild her trust and connection with Noah—if she could get past her fear.

But as the thrill of trying something new began to bubble up inside her, so did the unease. Her last therapy session had forced her to confront a hard truth—she feared losing control, especially after Mitch had manipulated and controlled her. The idea of someone, even Noah, holding that kind of power over her was terrifying. Could she really trust him enough to let him tie her up?

She hadn’t even realized that she had been thinking about practicing this crazy thing called bondage with Noah until the thought hit her. Heat flooded her face, and a strange ache bloomed between her legs. The mix of fear and excitement left her feeling exposed, as if the very pages of the book had unlocked something she wasn’t ready to confront.

Lia’s mind raced as she lay back on the armchair, her thoughts spiraling deeper. Sex with Noah had already proven to be a release, a way to let go of the fears and insecurities that gnawed at her. He had shown her that she could be vulnerable with him and he would only love her more. He had pleasured her while making her feel safe and loved.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so cared for, so satisfied, so beautiful. Noah had looked at her like she was the most precious thing in the world, had touched her with reverence, making her body feel alive in a way it hadn’t been in a very long time.

But as much as she craved that feeling, there were limits. Her trust in him was still fragile—not because she doubted him, but because she doubted herself. She was still easily shaken by the ghosts of her past. The idea of letting him tie her hands, to give him control in that way, sent a ripple of anxiety through her. She couldn’t trust herself not to panic, to be overwhelmed by the memories she tried so hard to bury.

Lia shook her head, trying to push the deeper thoughts away. She didn’t want to dwell on it. Not now, at least. Instead, she focused on the pages of the book, letting herself get lost in the descriptions of the intricate knots and the philosophy behind the art.

Barely a few minutes later, the door creaked open.

“Lia?” Noah’s voice cut through her thoughts, soft but filled with concern. “Hey, I got worried for a sec. You okay?”

Lia sat up quickly, her heart racing. She nervously tried to hide the book, heat rushing to her cheeks.

“Yeah,” she mumbled, standing up and keeping the book behind her.

Noah stepped further into the room, his eyes catching the way she held something in her hand.

“Were you reading?”

“Hum… yeah.” Lia felt her pulse quicken, trying to act casual.

Noah’s eyes shifted down to her hand, and when he noticed the book, a small smirk played on his lips.

“Is that...?” he began, amusement creeping into his tone. “Are you trying to hide it from me?”

“No,” she said while moving the book behind her to hide it better.

Noah chuckled, stepping closer, clearly amused. “Lia,” he said, “are you embarrassed?"

She bit her lip, her fingers tightening around the book. “I was just… I saw it there and I remembered what you read to me. I got curious and—”

“You wanted to learn more?” Noah finished, his smile soft but knowing.

“Yeah. I mean—I was just curious. The book was lying there and…” She stopped when she noticed the way his eyes were boring into her. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?” he asked, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Like you want to do these things to me,” she replied, shaking the book in her hand.

Noah’s playful grin faded when he saw her expression shift.

“I do,” he said, his voice suddenly serious.

“What?” she asked, her throat tight.

“I’d love to tie you up,” Noah admitted, his eyes locking with hers, but his smile quickly fell when he noticed the fear behind her gaze.

Before he could ask her what was wrong, Bryan’s voice rang through the house, calling Noah’s name. The moment shattered.

Lia took the opportunity to escape the intensity of the conversation, leaving the book on the armchair as she crossed the room and brushed past Noah to open the door.

Bryan was standing in the hallway.

“I’m heading out, and so are the others. Just wanted to let you know.”

The house began to empty after that. Slowly, one by one, everyone trickled out, offering their goodbyes with tired but happy smiles.

When the last of them had left and the house had grown quiet, Noah and Lia followed suit, heading back to her apartment. Right before Noah put on his hoodie, Lia suggested staying there, pointing out that the band’s equipment was in the house and it’d be more practical for him to be there instead of at her place, but he refused.

The ride home was quiet. Noah glanced at Lia several times, concern etching his features, but she seemed… content. Despite the encounter in the room, her expression was soft, pleased even, though her tiredness was evident.

Once they were settled in her bedroom, Lia returned from the bathroom barefoot, wearing only one of Noah’s old t-shirts and her panties. As she adjusted her long hair behind her shoulders, Noah spoke. He had been looking through the window, fear prickling at him. What if he wanted too much from her?

“Did I scare you earlier?” he asked.

She looked up at him, a slight furrow forming between her brows, her hands pausing mid-motion in her hair.

“When I said I wanted to tie you up,” he clarified.

Lia froze briefly, then let her hair fall as she exhaled slowly. Sitting down on the edge of the mattress, her hands rested in her lap, fingers nervously twisting, then tracing the hem of the t-shirt. The only light on in the room was the bedside lamp, which casted a warm glow across the space.

“No, you didn’t scare me.”

Noah moved closer until he was in front of her. Then he knelt on the floor, his gaze steady as he looked up at her, his hands gently resting on her knees. The intimacy of the position was grounding, his presence there at her feet a quiet reminder that he wasn’t going anywhere.

“But something was off. I could see it,” he continued.

Lia hesitated, her mind flashing back to the swirling thoughts that had been spinning through her head. She wanted to be honest, but part of her didn’t want to admit how deeply the idea unsettled her.

“It’s not you,” she finally said, her voice soft. “It’s just… I want to trust you, Noah. And I do. It’s just that… I’m scared of losing control.”

“Do you think I’d ever hurt you?”

“No.” Lia shook her head. “But it’s not about that. It’s about me, about what I went through with Mitch. I’m just… not sure if I can handle being that vulnerable again.”

Noah’s expression softened with understanding. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to her temple. “We don’t have to do anything you’re not ready for. You know that, right?”

“I know,” she whispered, leaning into him. “But a part of me feels like... maybe this could help me. Help me let go of the fear. At the same time, I’m not sure I’m ready to try all of that just yet,” she admitted, her voice softer than before. “I’m curious… and I want to try it with you, but I don’t think I can handle it now.”

Noah’s fingers traced soft circles on her knee, his touch light and reassuring.

“Of course,” he said, his voice calm and patient. “It makes total sense, and I told you before—I’m in no rush. This is about us. We have all the time in the world to try new things and explore what we like and what we don’t.”

His eyes flicked up to hers, holding her gaze with a quiet intensity.

“I just want it to be you. And I want to be the only one to give that to you,” he admited. “And I just know you’d look so pretty tied up and naked.”

Lia felt a flush rise in her cheeks as something twirled in her lower belly. She looked down at Noah, the tenderness in his expression making her heart ache in the best possible way. She reached out, cupping his jaw, her thumb brushing across the stubble on his cheek.

“You say that, and you still manage to look so sweet,” she murmured, a small smile tugging at her lips. “How do you even do that?”

He chuckled softly, leaning into her touch for a moment.

“It’s my charm.”

Lia smiled, but it quickly faded into a sigh. She felt the gravity of the conversation settle over them again, the air between them thick. There was something about the way Noah was looking at her, the softness in his eyes, that made her feel safe enough to let down her guard a little more.

Noah cupped her cheek this time, his thumb tracing her jaw.

“We’ll take it slow. And if you’re ever uncomfortable, we stop. I don’t care if it’s mid-knot or mid-anything. You say the word, and it’s over. Okay?”

“Okay.”

“We don’t have to do anything tonight. Not because of this talk or anything else. I don’t want you to feel pressured. We can just lie down, watch something, or fall asleep. Whatever feels right for you. Anything.”

Lia’s fingers slid down to rest against his shoulder, her soft breath mingling with the stillness in the room. She gave him a small nod.

“Anything?”

Noah nodded, his eyes never leaving hers.

For a moment, she hesitated, then slowly stood up from the bed, her legs brushing against his as she moved. Noah stayed where he was, kneeling on the floor, looking up at her with a quiet mix of curiosity. She stood before him, wearing nothing but his t-shirt that fell just shy of her thighs and a pair of panties.

She could feel the heat of his attention—desire simmering but held back by his endless patience. It made her feel both exposed and empowered.

With a steadying breath, she reached down and slowly peeled off the t-shirt. The fabric slipped past her bare skin, falling softly to the floor. Noah’s breath hitched as her breasts came into view, but he didn’t move. His eyes followed the movements of her body like every shift she made was sacred.

Lia stood there, wearing just her panties, feeling the warmth emanating from his brown almond-shaped eyes. There was no rush, no pressure, just the weight of his eyes on her, heavy with desire but still so respectful. It was his restraint, his quiet reverence that made her feel powerful in a way she was learning to love.

Slowly, she hooked her fingers around the waistband of her panties, pushing them down until they joined the shirt on the floor.

She stood completely exposed now, and yet somehow it didn’t feel like vulnerability. Not with him. His eyes traveled the length of her body, not with hunger, but with something deeper. Like he was seeing her for the first time, all over again.

“Anything,” Noah whispered, his voice barely more than a breath.

Lia stepped closer, her body so near that he could feel the warmth radiating from her skin. His hands instinctively found her hips, pulling her just a little closer as he pressed a soft, reverent kiss to her stomach, just below her navel. Her breath caught, but she didn’t move. She trusted him to take his time, just as he had trusted her.

Noah kissed his way along the soft plane of her abdomen, his nose brushing lightly against her skin, while one of his hands slid to the back of her thigh. Gently, he lifted her leg, guiding it over his shoulder. Lia’s fingers threaded through his hair, her breath coming in slow, steady waves as she guided her core toward his eager mouth.

Her heartbeat quickened, but it wasn’t from fear or hesitation. She wasn’t giving up control; she was choosing to share it with him. And that made all the difference.

She let herself sink into the warmth of his touch, into the safety of his presence, her anxiety fading as she surrendered—not to him, but with him.

— prev. chapter | chapter eight

Taglist:

@somebodyels3 | @respectfulrebel | @xcllnt | @bluestdai | @lma1986

@sweetwombatpizza | @missduffsblog | @shilohrosechicken | @jilliemiw86 | @alwaysfightforwhoyouare

#noah sebastian x ofc #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah x lia #lia x noah #the inevitability of love at second sight #bad omens fanfiction #noah sebastian fic

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desired-misery · 3 days

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BOW!Leon WIP | Luis's POV

An unlikely ally in Luis’s trying-to-comfort-a-BOW-because-it's-the-right-thing-to-do plan is one of the BSAA’s own soldiers. One of the soldiers who encountered 537 in the field, actually. Lieutenant Piers Nivans, second in command of Alpha team. Luis finds Nivans watching 537 over the lunch break, curiously peering at the computer monitor to see 537 inside its crate (which it had returned to and not moved from since the crate was put back inside its enclosure, proving the attempt to teach 537 the floor was safe was a failure).

Nivans— he insisted Luis not use his rank— is very interested in BOWs in a more academic way than Luis would have expected from one of the BSAA’s top soldiers, especially from Alpha team, which Luis knows is deployed to eliminate BOWs all the time. Frankly, Luis is surprised that Alpha team didn’t shoot 537 on sight. He asks Nivans about that decision.

“It’s really weird, but it wasn’t attacking us. It was doing exactly that, so we left it alone.” Nivans points to 537 through the one-way glass. “I’ve never seen a BOW be calm, you know? I thought it was just an animal at first, like a leopard or something. Didn’t feel right to shoot something that was minding its own business, so we just closed the door to the room and moved on.”

. .. ... .. . It is a brutal, callous thought, but it is scientifically interesting that 537 could even be taught to be ‘calm’ as Nivans put it. Nivans is thinking along the same lines, though, because he suddenly looks even more interested.

“Have you guys ever trained a BOW before?”

Luis frowns. “No.”

Nivans tilts his head. “Do you want to try?”

Luis stabs a finger at the paused video on his tablet screen. “That’s cruel, I won’t let anyone—”

“You know zoos train their animals, right? Their dangerous animals, including lions and reptiles. It’s possible— straightforward, probably, as long as the animal has the capacity to learn, which 537 clearly has.” Nivans pauses, looks Luis over. “Do you have anyone on the team who has experience with training dogs?”

“Why would we have someone on the research team with that expertise?” Normally, BOWs are pretty single-minded. If awake and aware, they are either trying to destroy or trying to produce more of themselves. The only time Luis has heard of anyone having any sort of progress ‘training’ a BOW is with Nemesis— but those were human, so it was more about preserving enough of the mind and brain to allow tasks to be remembered and completed.

“I could teach you how to do it, if you’re serious.” Nivans offers like Luis doesn’t already have a full time job. “I’ve helped train MWDs— uh, military working dogs. It’s actually pretty fun.”

“Why don’t you do it yourself?”

Nivans shrugs. “I don’t really have much free time usually, but I guess I could for a little while. Until we’re moved onto another assignment.”

“If you think that could be helpful,” Nivans adds.

“I don’t know what good it would do, to be honest. What do you think we could train it to do?” Luis asks.

Nivans watches 537 pretending to sleep inside of its too small crate. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s really smart?”

“That would be fascinating to discover,” Luis says. “But I think 537 is owed at least the understanding that it can have the whole room to itself.”

Nivans nods. “Let me talk to my captain.”

#luis “i know its a BOW but look at how sad it is” serra #and Piers “i mean fuck it lets train a BOW to do stuff because its funny and ironic” Nivans #with Chris “oh my god you two are such nerds” Redfield #starring Leon “no one knows I am the BOW not even myself” Kennedy #dmwriting #fanfic talk #resident evil #leon kennedy #re stuff #resident evil 4 #re4 #leon s kennedy #re4r #piers nivans #chris redfield #bow!leon #luis serra

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ask-me-later23 · 1 day

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Spencer Reid X Reader Fluff

In which a certain doctor asks you out for halloween weekend.

“Those who can dream by day are cognizant of many things which escape those who dream only by night.”

-Edgar Allan Poe.

There is a certain comfort that can be found in books. The written word creates an alternate reality in which your worries and stress can be forgotten. Even though physically, all you can see are letters on a page, you find friendship among the characters, wonder among the civilizations, and a home in a theoretical land that you will never get to touch.

There is a structure within novels. Every story has a start and end point, a climax and a resolution. Even when times get tough and your heart gets shattered, you know there is a happy ending. Perhaps this is why they draw you in.

A happy ending is a concept that keeps you moving. It keeps you standing, even when life stands on your doorstep threatening to blow your house down.

It made sense that you would grow up to work in a library. When literary icons become easier to relate to and connect with than real people, it makes sense that you would surround yourself with them all day.

What you never expected, however, was that these icons would one day push you to make connections with another broken soul, another person who believed that books were easier to bond with than people.

It started four years ago…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Hello the-” you jumped at the sudden appearance of the man next to you, dropping the pile of books you were sorting back onto the shelves.

“Oh! I’m so sorry. Let me help.” He immediately bent down to retrieve the fallen treasures. However, you were already bending down, causing you both to bump heads.

“Jesus-”

“I am so sorry-” You both spoke at the same time, clutching your heads. You quickly gathered the books and set them aside, turning towards the stranger and giving him your full attention.

He seemed taken aback, a slight tinge of color in his cheeks. He opened his mouth a few times, as if he were about to say something, only to quickly shut it again.

“What can I help you with?”

This seemed to snap him out of his daze, he immediately lowered his eyes and pulled out a slip of crumpled paper.

“Yes. I was looking for this book. I tried finding it myself but it wasn’t in the spot it should be. I’m filling in for a lecture today and it was something I was looking into for the class. I know it’s extremely last minute, but I just found out I was even going to be able to attend this lecture. My schedule is normally far too busy to allow myself the free time to be able to do so, but somehow I was able to clear some space for it. If you could check to see if you still have it that would be great, but I also now see that you’re busy so I can just go ask someone else. I’m sorry I really shouldn’t have bothered you. Now I’m just taking up more of your time by explaining things that you probably didn’t even need to know…”

Your eyes widen at the sudden information dump this stranger had just landed on you. Before even giving you the chance to speak he moved to walk away and find another associate to ask for help. Lunging forward, you grabbed the sleeve to his sweater, noticing the way the cuffs looked worn out and stretched, as if he had been pulling on them.

“Come to the front with me and we can look into it.” Without giving him an opportunity to deny your services, you lead him towards the front desk, not letting go of his sweater. Surprisingly, he let you lead him forward.

You finally released him, leaving him staring at the newly stretched area that matches the cuffs. You typed aggressively on the decades old keyboard as he told you the name of the book he was looking for.

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news here but it does look like someone checked it out less than an hour ago.” You glance up at him, not missing the slightly disappointed look on his face.

Something about that look irks you, you don’t even know this guy’s name but you feel the urge to help him.

“Oh…okay. That’s okay. Thank you anyways, I’m sorry I wasted your tim-”

“I have a spare copy in my apartment if you need one. Wait… not that I’m inviting you into my apartment… I just meant that I could go grab it for you if you need a copy. I understand being in a time crunch, you would be surprised at the amount of last minute events I have had to accommodate while working here,” You add as you pick your nails nervously, watching his face for a reaction.

“I couldn’t ask you to do that, you’re in the middle of work. It’s okay, really,” He murmurs. You notice he starts tugging on his cuffs.

You ignore his protests, “What time is the lecture? I get off in 20 minutes and can meet you on campus. Before you can argue again, I’ve already decided I’m doing this. You’ll find I can be very hard to sway.”

His cheeks turn a lovely rosy shade again as he stutters out, “It starts at 6, but I was planning on getting there at 5 to give myself time to prepare.”

Hearing exactly what you needed too, you raise your hand across the desk. “I’ll meet you in the library then.”

He hesitates, staring at your outstretched hand. Quietly, he adds, “Handshakes are extremely unsanitary. There is an extremely high level of pathogens passed during them. It would actually be safer to kiss someone rather than shake their hand.”

After realizing what he said you both are glancing at your feet. You can feel your cheeks warming and are sure his are the same.

As if realizing his error he attempts to correct himself, stuttering, “I- I only meant that-”

“I know what you meant. It's okay.” You let out a nervous chuckle.

“I have to go. I’ll, um, I’ll meet you there.” He rushes out the door before you get a chance to catch this stranger's name. Laughing to yourself at this odd encounter, you return to your forgotten friends and resume placing them on the shelves.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Georgetown University library was always one of your favorites. Even the dark corners that would normally scare people away offered you a sense of comfort that you couldn’t deny.

Even with the oddness of the day, you somehow found yourself incredibly calm at the idea of meeting a somewhat stranger, whose name you didn’t even know, to hand over a book you have spent countless hours scanning, annotating and highlighting the contents of.

You find said stranger wandering in between some of the shelves, looking closely at the spines in front of him.

Taking a moment to watch him, you noticed his long hair that he kept tucked behind his ears, not missing the lock that kept falling into his face. He repeatedly tucked it back, the action looking so mindless it is clear it's something he does often. He was wearing converse, not matching the formal look of the rest of his attire. It seemed out of place, yet somehow fit together. As he examined a book from the shelf, you watched him flip through so quickly you thought he was just skimming, only to realize the intense stare he held proving he was deeply invested in whatever it was. It was a feeling you were all too familiar with, getting lost in another world hidden between the pages.

Smiling, you walked over quietly, not wanting to disturb his focus. You stopped in front of him, still somehow unable to notice you he goes to flip the next page.

“Hello there.”

This startles him, you giggle slightly as he drops the book he was holding. Both reaching down to pick up the fallen literature, you bump heads.

“Wow this situation seems oddly familiar,” you laughed as he grabbed the book from the ground. When he stands back up his cheeks are flushed again and he quickly places the book back in its designated spot on the shelf.

“I- um… So you were able to find the book?” He stuttered out, swallowing roughly.

“All yours professor.” You pulled the item out of your bag, offering it to him hesitantly.

“I’m not an actual professor. I actually work for the Behavioral Analysis Unit at Quantico. I’m just here as a guest speaker. It’s something I do for fun when I have the time.” He gently takes the book out of your hands, fingers being careful not to brush yours as he takes it.

“So Agent?”

“Doctor.”

“Doctor…?”

He stares at you for a few minutes with his eyebrows pushed together, titling his head.

“Nevermind.” You giggled. “So you still have about forty minutes to kill before your lecture. How would you feel about a pre-speech coffee?” You drop your gaze to your shoes once more, pulling at the loose thread on your sweater.

“That sounds great actually.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You never would have thought that he was a 1% coffee 99% sugar kind of guy, but here you were watching the not-so-strange-stranger dump 10 packets of sugar into his coffee. Your lip formed a hard line and your eyebrows were attempting to shoot for the stars as you watched him take a sip and not throw up from the unholy amount of sweetness that he had concocted.

“Are you okay?” He asks. The man creased his eyebrows looking at you, searching your face for signs of illness.

“Would you like some coffee with that sugar?” You chuckled.

His eyebrows pushed together, a look of concern forming until you pointed to his coffee cup. His mouth morphed into an “O” shape and he looked down as you both moved towards the area he was speaking at.

“I like it sweet,” he whispered.

“Sweet would be an understatement.” You laughed at his reaction.

“You’re drinking black coffee,” He said it like a statement, a tone of finality following his words.

“I prefer black.”

“Loneliness is a black coffee and late night television; solitude is herb tea and soft music,” he muttered as you approached the door.

“Solitude, quality solitude, is an assertion of self-worth, because only in the stillness can we hear our own unique voices. Pearl Cleage,” you finished his quote.

He glanced sideways at you, eyes wide. “I- uh-”

“I work in a library and have a PhD. in English literature. I can recognize quotes from my icons doctor.” You smirk as he stumbles over his feet.

Before he is able to continue you both arrive at the classroom he will be presenting in. He turns to you, still not quite meeting your eyes and pulls on his sweater again.

“Thank you for the book…and the coffee. I'll-uh be sure to return it to the library.”

You go to agree but the words die on your lips. Somehow the idea of today’s strange events ending unsettles you. You could easily leave and let him return the book to your workplace. He knows where it is clearly. But without even a name you are unsure you will ever see him again. Telling yourself it is out of concern for your belongings, you speak.

“Actually, I was thinking about sticking around and listening in…if that's okay?” Now it is your turn to stare anywhere but his face. “That way I can make sure it doesn’t get lost in the library's books, you know?”

He hesitates for a moment and opens his mouth to speak, thinking better of it he simply offers a smile and nods, rushing inside to get set up. You follow a group of students inside and find a seat, waiting to see the action.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As the last student clears out you return from your daze you had found yourself in while listening to the man’s lecture. You found yourself admiring his nervous tics and the way he paced the front as he discussed behavioral analysis and criminology. You also didn’t miss the way his eyes somehow found yours, as if making sure you were still there, every so often. It was an interesting lecture, but perhaps the most interesting part about all of this was that you finally knew the stranger’s name.

“Doctor Spencer Reid.”

He glanced up from his belongings that he was quickly packing up, confused, “what?”

“I finally learned your name,” you smiled.

He returned the smile. It was genuine and broad, transforming his entire face. Crinkles formed around his eyes and a dimple complimented the upturned direction of his lips. As if realizing you were staring at his lips you cleared your throat and tried to ignore the heat in your cheeks.

“Here’s your book back…thank you.” He extended the subject of today’s debacle. Hesitantly, you took it, although this time you noticed your fingers brush against one another and shockingly, he didn’t immediately pull away. Checking your watch you quickly put the book back in your bag and looked back at him.

“I have to get going, it's getting a little late, but thank you for the lecture and the entertainment,” offering him the most sincere smile you could pull off you added, “Spencer.”

With that, you turned and began walking out the room but not before you heard him protest.

“Hey, wait. You never gave me your name either.”

Not stopping, just casting a glance over your shoulder, you offered back, “You’re a behavior analyst who works for the FBI, I’m sure you can figure it out.” Walking out the door you leave the doctor, who for once looked at a loss for words.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been four years since then. Spencer began frequenting the library shortly after, finding excuses to come in and read something new. Somewhere along the way he developed a knack for bringing you coffee as well. A trade-off of sorts, coffee for books and company. You couldn’t deny the friendship you both had, or how much it meant to you both.

Walking around the pumpkin and ghost covered library you hummed a happy tune. Halloween was always your favorite time of year. The temperature dropped and spirits were raised as everyone anticipated ideas for costumes, how much candy they would get, or what parties they planned on attending. For you, however, it was the aesthetic of it all. The changing of the leaves, the pumpkin carving, the pumpkin spice everything. You sometimes find yourself wanting to share it all with someone.

Spencer walks in just then, interrupting your thoughts with promises of caffeine. You drop your task at hand and meet him halfway.

“Please tell me you have brought coffee, otherwise I might just die on the spot Spencer.” You take the cup from him as he chuckles slightly, seeming to be in a good mood today. Halloween was something the two of you both shared a love for.

“You do know the average human is only supposed to consume four cups of coffee a day? I’m assuming this will be at least your sixth.” He gives you a pointed look with his eyebrows raised expectedly. “But yes, there is caffeine in there.”

You smile triumphantly and take a sip, “and this is why you are my favorite professor-slash-agent-slash-doctor there ever was.”

His cheeks turn pink and he looks down. Giggling at his reaction, you nudge his foot.

“So what brings you here today doc?”

“You know, the origins of halloween are incredibly fascinating, it’s one of the most popular holidays, only rivaled by Christmas. It’s a sort of melting pot for a lot of different traditions from different cultures, but I always liked the idea that the Celtics and Europeans believed it was the one night a year that ghosts and spirits could walk the Earth again. This was what started the tradition of wearing costumes and masks, so that people couldn’t be recognized by the ghosts.”

You did know all of this, but you weren’t going to kill his mood like that, so instead you simply smiled along. “And here I thought halloween was all pumpkins and spice and everything nice.”

His attention seemed elsewhere for a minute, he gave a sad smile and turned back to face you, “not always.”

“Don’t worry doc,” you nudge him slightly. “I’ll protect you from the ghosts and goblins.”

He stares at you for a moment, opening his mouth as if he wanted to say something. You notice a slight pink color creep up his neck and he looks down before speaking again.

“So what are your Halloween weekend plans?”

“Still toying with a few ideas. There's always so much going on, it’s hard to choose to be honest.” You returned to your desk, sorting through a stack of discarded books. “What about you?”

You notice he hesitates, toying with the sleeves on his shirt. The pink has turned into a lovely shade of crimson that has you holding back a smile before he pushes forward, “There is actually a reenactment showing the nineteenth century phantasmagoria that I was looking into. It was invented in France and was basically a pre-cinema projected ghost show in which the showman attempted to spook the audience using science magic. I- I, uh, I have an extra ticket if maybe you’d want to possibly come with me. If you aren’t busy, but you also said you were thinking about doing something so it’s okay if you say no.”

You drop the book you were holding with a very loud thud on your desk. “Shut. up.”

Spencer finally looks up confused, you interrupt him by grabbing your purse from behind you, pulling out two tickets. You show them off with a laugh.

“I have an extra ticket to the Edgar Allen Poe shadow puppet show. I was going to ask you if you wanted to come with me. I didn’t know anyone else that would be interested in old man, creepy poetry shadow puppets.”

He immediately looks relieved. “We could always do both? They’re at separate times. Maybe even take a break for some dinner? If you want too…obviously you don’t have too.”

“Spencer Reid, are you asking me out on a date?” You covered the feeling of your cheeks heating up with a smirk, trying to ignore the butterflies in your stomach. Spencer was by no means unattractive, and at this point you had both definitely gotten to know each other on a pretty familiar level. You both had even hung out outside of the library before. But taking that next step had never been something either of you had even talked about.

“I- uh- Well… I-” Suddenly the human robot began to malfunction before your eyes and you couldn’t help but cackle at his response. He coughed roughly and pushed out his next words, “If that’s okay with you?”

Something about how nervous he was only made the butterflies worse, but truthfully you knew there was always a fondness for the man that existed on a deeper level than just friends. You were on a first name basis with each other’s skeleton’s and never shied away from the closets they hid in. It had taken a while for you each to get that comfortable, both too scared by your own trauma to think about sharing it with someone else. Truthfully you didn’t think you trusted anyone more with your heart.

“Only took you four years to ask doc.”

#spencer reid #criminal minds #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #derek morgan #spencer ried #bau team #david rossi #alex blake #penelope garcia #x reader #fanfic #fandom #halloween #happy halloweeeeeeen #spooky season

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official-cvntified-gay · 11 hours

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Flight Attendant: A Pilot's Special [Abby A. x Reader]

❥ Pilot!Abby Anderson x Flight Attendant!Reader

❥ note: ugh I'm a whore for captain abby, I wrote this after I read a captain abby oneshot in ao3.

The plane was getting prepped for another day in the sky. The sun barely peeked over the horizon, casting a warm orange glow on the tarmac, and you could feel the buzz of excitement mingled with nervousness coursing through your veins. It was your first day as a flight attendant—something you had worked hard for—and you wanted everything to go perfectly.

Dressed in your crisp uniform, you made sure your hair was in place, your name tag shining proudly on your chest. You took a deep breath before stepping onto the plane, your heart thudding against your ribs as you imagined the hundreds of things that could go wrong.

"Relax, you've got this," you muttered under your breath, trying to psych yourself up.

“First day, huh?” A voice broke through your thoughts.

You turned to see a woman standing tall with an air of authority, her blonde hair pulled into a sleek ponytail, her uniform neat and immaculate. Abby Anderson, the captain. Her reputation preceded her—known for being efficient, cold, and not exactly the warmest person on board. People whispered about her strict demeanor, her professionalism that sometimes felt intimidating.

"Y-yeah," you stammered, taken aback by her sudden presence.

“Captain Anderson,” she introduced herself, not offering a handshake. Her blue eyes bore into yours, unreadable, as she nodded. “I expect everything to run smoothly.”

“Yes, Captain,” you replied quickly, trying not to let her intimidating presence throw you off.

She gave you a curt nod before turning away. You could feel the weight of her authority, the way she commanded attention without even trying. As you went about your duties, you noticed how the other crew members seemed tense around her. She wasn’t mean, exactly—just...distant. Detached. Every movement was precise, every word clipped, like she was too busy to waste time on pleasantries.

But then, something strange happened.

Every so often, you caught her glancing your way. When she passed by, there was an almost imperceptible softening in her expression, a flicker of something warmer. You thought it was just your imagination, but then it happened again—and again.

It wasn’t until halfway through the flight that she approached you directly.

"You're doing well for your first day." Her voice was still professional, but there was a teasing edge to it now, a hint of something more.

"Thank you, Captain," you replied, trying to sound as professional as possible, but you could feel your cheeks heating under her gaze.

"Abby," she corrected, her tone softer. She took a step closer, and your breath caught in your throat. "No need for formalities when it's just the two of us."

"Abby," you repeated, the name feeling foreign on your tongue.

She smirked, her eyes sparkling with something mischievous. “You look a little nervous, you know. Is it me? Because I swear I don’t bite... unless you ask nicely.”

Your eyes widened, heat rising in your cheeks. "W-what?"

Abby chuckled, a low, deep sound that sent a shiver down your spine. "Relax. I’m just messing with you.” She leaned in slightly, lowering her voice so only you could hear. “Or maybe I’m not.”

You swallowed hard, trying to focus on anything but the way her presence seemed to engulf you. Was this really happening? The stoic, cold Captain Anderson was flirting with you?

For the rest of the flight, you couldn’t shake the feeling of Abby’s eyes on you. Every time you passed her in the cockpit or while making rounds, her gaze lingered just a little too long, a teasing smile pulling at her lips.

By the end of the shift, you were a bundle of nerves and confusion. You were standing by the exit, helping passengers disembark when Abby approached you once again, standing a little too close.

“You did good today,” she murmured, her voice low enough that only you could hear. “I like a woman who can keep her cool under pressure.”

“I-I try,” you managed to stammer, your brain short-circuiting from her proximity.

"Mm, I noticed." She leaned in, her lips brushing your ear as she whispered, "You should let me take you out for a drink sometime. Help you unwind after a long day."

Your heart was pounding in your chest. Was this a joke? Was she serious? But when you turned to meet her gaze, the playful glint in her eyes told you everything you needed to know.

“I— uh— I don’t know—” you started, but Abby cut you off with a smirk.

“Think about it.” She winked, her voice dripping with confidence. “I’m a patient woman.”

She turned to leave, walking off with that same air of cool detachment she always had. But this time, there was a sway in her step that told you she knew exactly what effect she had on you.

For the next few weeks, Abby didn’t let up. Every time you were on the same flight, she found some excuse to be near you. She'd make a casual comment, brush past you just close enough to make your skin tingle, and offer you those teasing little smiles that left you breathless.

One day, you were struggling with a particularly heavy overhead bin when Abby appeared out of nowhere, easily pushing it into place with one hand.

“Need some help?” she asked, her voice dripping with amusement.

“I had it,” you muttered, embarrassed that she had caught you in such a moment of weakness.

“Of course you did.” She grinned, leaning in slightly. “But I’m here if you need me. Always.”

Her words lingered long after she walked away, leaving you standing there with your heart racing and your thoughts spinning. You couldn’t deny it any longer—Abby Anderson had a hold on you, and she knew it.

Every time she smiled at you, every time she teased you, you found yourself falling deeper. And Abby? She was relentless in her pursuit.

She was the Captain, after all—and she always got what she wanted.

And this time, what she wanted was you.

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson #abby tlou #abby the last of us #abby x reader #abby x fem!reader #abby x you #abby anderson x you #abby anderson x y/n #abby anderson x female reader #the last of us #alternate universe #pilot abby x fa reader

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inadaydream99 · 6 hours

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How they respond after a kiss

A/N - just another random reaction that I got carried away with… especially Jeongin’s

Disclaimer: this does not represent any of the members in real life and is for entertainment purposes only.

Chan

“Quick, kiss me again. He’s coming back!”

Chan was barely able to catch his breath, let alone register your words, before you had pulled him in and smashed your lips against his once again. Not that he was ever going to refuse kissing you.

If someone had told you at the beginning of the night - heck or even an hour ago - that you’d end up kissing your best friend the way you currently are, you’d have laughed in their face. But as unforeseen events unfolded, Chan’s lips had come to your rescue.

You see, you’d been minding your own business at the bar, waiting to be served after offering to get the next round for your group of friends. It was busy and so you had begun occupying yourself with the soggy cardboard coaster that had been left on the bar top to wilt, tearing it into small sodden pieces until a staff member became available to attend to you. Until some overconfident - and clearly already pretty drunk - guy had decided that you needed to be chatted up by him.

Unbeknownst to you, Chan had been eyeing up the interaction from your table a short distance away, taking note of your standoffish body language. He was just waiting for the slightest indication from you before he stepped in… ah yeah, there it is.

“You good baby?” You flinched upon the hand that carefully landed on your shoulder, exhaling when you turn to find that it was only Chan. You don’t say a word, instead sending him your best “help me” look. And you’re relieved to see your best friend nod, having read your mind and clearly the situation at hand, before he gives a quick glance to the guy who’d been trying to chat you up.

You’d half expected Chan to calmly pretend to be your boyfriend and coerce the guy away. But instead you feel a finger tuck under your chin and, before you know it, his lips connecting with yours. It takes everything in you to keep your knees from buckling under you, having had all the air sucked out of your lungs. But luckily Chan feels you wobble and moves his hands to secure your waist before breaking the kiss to see if your unwanted admirer had left.

“All gone.” Chan smirks, feeling satisfied with his work. There’s not even a glimpse of embarrassment upon his features like you may have expected there to be - had you not been frozen in place like you are. The only thing that breaks you out of your swirling mind is the approaching face from before from just past Chan’s shoulder.

And that’s how you end up pulling him back in, smashing your lips into his and making out with you best friend, the drinks you’d initially set out to get long forgotten.

Minho

“Why’d you do that?”

“Because you wouldn’t shut up.” Minho rolls his eyes, like it wasn’t the most obvious thing in the world. Why else would he have kissed you? Because he wanted to? Pft. Yes, he actually did want to, but that’s besides to point because he also wanted to shut you up.

You’d been yammering on for what felt like an eternity and all your boyfriend wanted to do was rest after a long day of practice. Minho loves you, he really does, and he would usually let you talk to your hearts content without any complaint. But he’s spent all day with Hyunjin and Seungmin, both of whom had been in the most annoying moods Minho had had to endure for a long time. Even his threats of tissues and being put in the air fryer were ineffective. So by the end of the day, once he’d finally returned to his quiet room and you’d messaged to say you were on your way over, Minho finally felt like he was able to relax.

“That was uncalled for.” You grumble, more so to yourself but still loud enough that you knew Minho would be able to hear you.

“Which part?” Minho raises a brow in challenge. You stare each other down while he waits for you to dare answer him. “The kiss or the shutting up?” and then he has the audacity to smirk at you.

“You know what, I think I’m gonna go hang out with one of the others.” You make for the door, but are stopped by his hand grabbing your wrist. “Minho if you don’t let me go-”

Before you have a chance to utter any half-hearted threat to him, he’s spun you around and captured you in his hold. You frown up at him when you meet stern expression.

“Call me that again. I dare you.” You gulp. While your boyfriend clearly isn’t that mad at you (you know because if he was, he would have just let you leave and then proceeded to give you the silent treatment until you are practically begging him to acknowledge you), his stare makes you nervous. You think back to just before, how you knew he’d had a long day. And the guilt washes over you like a tidal wave because, although he’d tried to get you to be quiet, he’d only kissed you to do so…

“Min…” your voice is soft, almost a whisper, as your hand slowly raises to cup his cheek. “My love. I’m sorry. I know you’re tired and I should have let you rest… please let me go so you can have some quiet.” You hold his gaze until his eyes begin to soften and you feel his grip on your waist falter.

“I’m sorry too kitten.” He sighs, placing a tender kiss to your forehead. “But please stay with me. I don’t want to be without you.” You hug him tight in response, burying your head into his chest and wrapping your arms tightly around his torso, intending to never let him go. Eventually he manages to move you so you’re cuddling on his bed, pressing a delicate kiss to your lips before you both fall asleep in each other’s arms.

Changbin

The world around you seemed to slow the moment your lips met Changbin’s. It wasn’t planned, wasn’t something you had even been thinking about. Until suddenly, it was the only thing that made sense. His hand, which had been resting gently on your arm, froze in place as the warmth of the kiss lingered between you two.

Changbin blinked, wide-eyed, his expression a mix of surprise and something softer that you couldn’t quite put into words. Then, the corners of his lips slowly curled up into a shy, almost boyish grin. His hand, which had been frozen against your arm, finally moved, gently brushing up to cup your cheek. You could feel the heat radiating off of him, his cheeks pink with a blush that matched the warmth in your own.

“Did that… really just happen?” he asked, his voice soft, almost disbelieving. There was a playful edge to his tone, but you could tell that he was being sincere.

You smiled, feeling a little embarrassed but also strangely at ease. “It did.”

“You know,” he began, his voice low but filled with warmth, “I was just thinking about how I wanted to do that.”

“You were?”

Changbin nodded, his grin growing wider, more confident now. “Yeah… but I didn’t know how to make the first move...”

You felt your heart swell at his words, the soft sincerity in his voice making the moment feel even more special.

“I didn’t want to wait any longer,” you admitted, the honesty coming easily in the quiet, intimate space between you. His smile softened, his eyes crinkling at the edges as he leaned closer, his forehead gently resting against yours. The warmth of his breath mingled with yours, and you could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your own.

“Good,” he whispered, his voice filled with a quiet confidence. “Because I don’t think I want to wait any longer either.” His thumb gently traced along your cheek before pulling you in once again. This time the kiss wasn’t filled with hesitation or surprise. Instead, it was soft and full of warmth and when he pulled back, his cheeks were still pink, but his smile was brighter than you’d ever seen it.

Changbin chuckled, pulling you into a gentle hug, his arms wrapping around you in that familiar, comforting way. As he held you close, you could feel the steady beat of his heart, the warmth of his presence wrapping around you like a soft blanket.

“I’m really glad it was you,” he murmured into your hair, his voice low and content.

You smiled into his chest, feeling the same warmth bloom in your heart. “Me too.”

Hyunjin

“You can’t just do that without warning me!”

Hyunjin hadn’t expected you to freak out so much. The delulu part of his mind had actually thought you’d react very differently to him kissing you. Like thanking him or instantly confessing your undying love for him. Most certainly not reprimanding him like you currently are…

“I thought it would be romantic!” He throws his hands in the air, exasperatedly explaining his reasoning. “You said you wanted a guy to, and I quote, “sweep you off your feet”. So that’s what I was trying to do.”

He’s not lying. You had said that only the day before. But you didn’t think he’d take your words so seriously and literally try to do just that barely 24 hours later.

“I wasn’t aware you’d actually do it.” You begin to laugh, the humour of the situation finally setting in. You can’t help the smile that breaks across your face or the laughter that just won’t stop tumbling past your lips. Even Hyunjin begins to join in after a moment. And the longer you allow his actions to sink in, the more you realise how flattered you actually are and how good his lips felt against yours…

The laughter slowly dissipates between you into silence, which you would feel the need to fill if you weren’t fixated onto Hyunjin’s lips. You can’t seem to pull your gaze away from them no matter how much you tell yourself you should and it’s not until Hyunjin breaks your daze by waving his hand in front of your face that you realise there’s no way of playing it off.

“What’s on your mind Pretty?” You gulp, finally taking in his knowing smirk. You know Hyunjin isn’t really looking for an answer, you’ve been caught red handed. And to top it off, he’s using the nickname that you have always protested him calling you…

It takes you another moment to gather the words into a coherent sentence, but once you’ve decided what you want to happen next, there’s no way you’re not going to tell him.

“Do it again.” You try to sound assured and confident in your choice, watching as Hyunjin’s devilish expression grows. He mutters a low “do what again?” to you, knowing fully well what you meant the first time. “Sweep me off my feet.” You assert.

The words have barely left your mouth when Hyunjin launches into action, scooping you into his arms and crashing his lips into yours. You can feel his smile as you allow him to deepen the kiss, your fingers reaching up to thread through his hair and giving it a little tug. You reluctantly break the kiss a second later, in much need of air, both of you staring into each other’s eyes knowing that you’re officially done for. You’ve been well and truly swept away.

Jisung

As you pulled away, you could still feel the softness of Jisung’s lips against yours, the warmth of his breath, and the slight tremble in his hands as they hovered uncertainly by your waist. His eyes were wide, surprise and wonder dancing in them as he stared at you, his lips slightly parted as if he was trying to form words but couldn’t quite find them. You could hear the distant sounds of the other members in the dorm, laughing and talking in the next room, and suddenly the closeness of the moment felt both exhilarating and a little dangerous.

The noise made Jisung blink, snapping out of his daze, a soft chuckle escaping his lips as he looked at you, his hand instinctively moving to rub the back of his neck in that shy, awkward way you’d seen a hundred times before.

“You should go before someone sees,” he whispers, his voice a mix of nervous laughter and soft fondness. His eyes dart toward the door, and you can practically see his thoughts racing, imagining one of the members barging in and witnessing the whole thing.

Your heart skips a beat, the playful urgency of his words making you smile. “And what if I don’t want to go?”

Jisung’s cheeks flush a deep pink, as he quickly looks away, biting his lip to suppress a grin. He glances back at you, his eyes sparkling with a teasing glint, though you can tell he is still trying to calm the rapid beating of his own heart.

“I mean… we could stay here,” he murmurs, his voice quieter now, “but if Hyunjin or Seungmin catch us, we’ll never hear the end of it.” His tone is light, but the way he looks at you makes your heart swell.

You laugh softly, stepping a little closer, feeling bolder now despite the playful warning. “Are you really that scared of them?”

Jisung’s expression turns mock-serious, though he can’t hide the smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “You don’t know what they’re capable of. The teasing? Endless.”

You giggle, the tension between you melting away into something light and easy, just like it always does with him. There is still that lingering warmth in his gaze, a softness in the way he looks at you that makes you feel like this moment is more than just a joke.

Before you can respond, jisung suddenly takes a step closer, closing the distance between you with a surprising tenderness. His fingers brush against your hand, hesitant at first, before slowly curling around it.

“I’m really glad you kissed me,” he whispers, reflecting on the week before when you finally caved in and made a move. Since then, it’s been a lot of kissing behind closed doors, neither of you wanting things to get out until you both felt ready.

Your heart flutters at the quiet sincerity in his tone, rendering you unable to speak. Upon this, his smile softens and his thumb gently rubs circles on the back of your hand. For a second, it feels like the rest of the world has faded away, the sounds of the dorm distant and unimportant. It’s just you and him, standing in the small space, the closeness between you comforting and safe. But then, the faint sound of footsteps from down the hall snaps you both back to reality. Jisung’s eyes widening as he quickly lets go of your hand before taking a step back. “Seriously, you should go before they see…”

You bite your lip, trying not to laugh at how serious he suddenly looked, like getting caught would be the end of the world. “Alright, alright. I’m going.” You hold your hands up in surrender.

As you start to walk toward the door, you glance back at him. His gaze has followed you, his cheeks still a soft shade of pink, but his smile is wide and genuine. “See you next time,” you utter with a teasing smile.

Jisung chuckles, shaking his head fondly. “Next time, I’ll make sure we’re alone.”

Felix

“You, uh… you taste amazing,” Felix shyly gushes, his voice dropping into that familiar, deep tone, tinged with a hint of nervousness. His eyes flicker to yours as soon as the words leave his mouth, and he immediately bites his lip, as if he hadn’t meant to say it out loud. “I mean, it’s just…” He stumbles over his words, looking down at the floor for a second before glancing back up at you through his lashes, his shy smile never leaving his face. “You taste like… strawberries or something. It’s really nice.”

Your stomach flips at how adorable he is, his usual confidence giving way to something much softer. “I was just eating strawberry candy before you came in,” you admit with a giggle, feeling your own cheeks flush. Felix’s eyes light up, his smile widening as he nods.

“That explains it.” He glances down at your lips again, his voice a bit quieter now, a little more thoughtful. “I like it.”

“You taste amazing too,” you tease lightly.

Felix’s eyes widen in surprise before a deep, rumbly laugh escapes him, his eyes crinkling at the corners in that way that always makes your heart flutter. “Oh, do I?” he asks, his voice filled with amusement and warmth now.

You grin, feeling more confident as you nod. “Yeah, like cinnamon… sweet and warm.”

Felix’s grin softens into something more tender, his hand finally resting gently on your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin. He looks at you like you are the most precious thing in the world, the playful teasing fading into a quiet moment that felt just as sweet as the kiss had been.

For a moment, neither of you say anything, just standing there in the comfortable silence, enjoying the closeness. Then, with a soft chuckle, Felix leans in slightly, his forehead resting against yours.

“Maybe next time, I’ll bring some strawberry candy too,” he says, his voice low and teasing.

“Next time?” you ask, raising an eyebrow playfully.

Felix grins, his eyes twinkling with that familiar mischievous glint. “Yeah. I think we’re going to need a lot of next times.” And with that, he leans in, kissing you again, just as soft and sweet as the first time, but this time with the promise of many more to come.

Seungmin

The kiss was soft and warm, full of the familiar comfort you’d come to love about your arrangement with Seungmin. The world seemed to narrow down to just the two of you, the quiet hum of the room and the warmth of his body pressing against yours making everything feel right. But then, suddenly, Seungmin pulled back, his lips parting from yours with a mischievous glint in his eyes. His expression oddly calm, as if he’d just paused a moment to consider something.

“Why’d you stop?” you ask, still feeling the tingle of his kiss on your lips.

Seungmin shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly, the corners of his mouth twitching into a playful grin. “Because you weren’t responding.”

You frown, your brows knitting together in confusion. “But… I was?”

The amusement in Seungmin’s eyes only grows upon your reaction. “You’re saying that your lips were moving against mine? That I wasn’t doing all the work?”

His teasing tone makes you want to roll your eyes, but you hold back, knowing that doing so would only encourage him to be more infuriating. Instead, you try to keep your composure, even though you can feel a hint of annoyance bubbling up inside you.

Your agreement is simple: kisses whenever you both want, without the baggage of a relationship. It works well, and Seungmin’s kisses are, without a doubt, addictive. His lips are soft and plush, making every touch a sweet temptation.

“Pup, I put my tongue in your mouth and you froze,” Seungmin states, his voice dripping with condescension as he watches you mumble “You didn’t warn me.”

You shoot him a sulky look, trying to hide how his teasing is making you really feel. Seungmin’s eyes soften as he takes in your pouty expression, and a warm chuckle escapes him. “You look so cute when you sulk,” he continues to tease.

Ever since you’d struck up this kissing deal, Seungmin had found it hard to imagine why he hadn’t made a move sooner. Everything about you felt so right, your laugh, your smile, the way your lips fit against his… He couldn’t help but feel drawn to you, and it was becoming harder to keep things just as simple as you both had agreed upon.

“Just come back here and we’ll pick up from where we left off, okay?” Seungmin holds his hand out to you, his smile affectionate and warm, a silent promise of more to come. It was the kind of smile that made it impossible for you to say no. With a shy smile of your own, you take his hand, letting him pull you back against him. His warmth envelops you, your lips just close enough to feel his hot breath. The anticipation makes your heart race as your noses brush together; the closeness making every small touch feel electric.

“You ready?” Seungmin asks softly, his eyes locked onto yours with an earnestness that makes your pulse quicken.

“Ready,” you whisper back, leaning in closer. This time, as his tongue seeks entrance into your mouth, you accept it without hesitation. The kiss deepens and you feel a shiver of delight run through you as Seungmin’s arms wrap around you, pulling you in closer.

When you finally brake apart, both of you breathless and smiling, Seungmin’s eyes are filled with a satisfied glow. “See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

You laugh softly, shaking your head. “Not at all.”

Seungmin grins, the mischievous glint still dancing in his eyes. “Good. Because I’ve got plenty more where that came from.”

You can’t help but smile, leaning in for another kiss, your lips meeting his with the same warmth and affection. It was clear that, despite the teasing and the occasional annoyance, Seungmin was exactly where he wanted to be. With you.

Jeongin

So, you’d accidentally kissed the bane of your existence, and now he wouldn’t let you forget it. You weren’t sure how it had happened. One minute, you were squabbling like usual, the same old playful back-and-forth that always seemed to erupt between you two whenever you were in the same room. Jeongin had made some sarcastic comment, flashing that signature smug grin of his, and you, frustrated and flustered, had turned sharply, and somehow… your lips had met. It was brief, barely a second, but the impact was enough to knock the air out of your lungs. And Jeongin, of course, had the audacity to just stare at you, completely unfazed, his eyes wide but sparkling with amusement, like he couldn’t believe what had just happened. It was a complete accident, but try telling that to Jeongin.

Now, here you are days later, still reeling from the embarrassment while he seemed to be living his best life. Jeongin, famously sweet and adored by practically everyone, was one of the few people you couldn’t stand. He was annoyingly charming, effortlessly liked by everyone and always had this expectant attitude, like he knew you’d give in to him eventually. And now he had this to hold over your head. You glared at him across the room as he lounged casually on the couch, one arm draped over the backrest, his expression far too relaxed for someone who had been driving you up the wall for days.

“What’s that look for?” he asked, his voice laced with amusement. “Still thinking about it, huh?”

You shoot him a sharp glare, hoping the heat creeping up your cheeks isn’t as obvious as it feels. “I am not thinking about it.” You force a response through gritted teeth.

He raises an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “You’re definitely thinking about it.” His grin widens, that infuriatingly smug look returning to his face. “I mean, it’s understandable. I’d probably be thinking about it too if I were you.”

You groan, throwing your head back in exasperation. “Jeongin, I swear, if you bring it up one more time—”

“What? You gonna kiss me again?” he teases, sitting up a little straighter, his eyes sparkling mischievously. Your face flames at the memory, and you clench your fists, trying to maintain what little dignity you have left.

“It was an accident.”

Jeongin’s grin softens, but the teasing glint in his eyes doesn’t fade. “You keep saying that, but I don’t believe you…”

You groan again, pressing your palms to your face. This is torture. Absolute torture. “Why do you insist on making everything so difficult?”

He leans forward slightly, resting his elbows on his knees, his expression softening just a little. “Difficult? Or interesting?” He chuckles, a low, pleasant sound that somehow makes your stomach do a little flip. “You just make it so easy to mess with you. You get all worked up over the smallest things.” He pauses, tilting his head slightly as he studies you. “Maybe that’s why I like teasing you so much.”

You blink at him, caught off guard by the sudden sincerity in his voice. His smugness is still there, but you’re sure you see a glimmer of something else, too. Something softer, almost playful in a way that wasn’t designed just to get under your skin. “I don’t know how anyone puts up with you,” you mutter, though the bite in your words is far less sharp than usual.

“Well, my friends think I’m charming,” he smirks triumphantly. “They all see me as their younger brother. Innocent, adorable… maybe you should start seeing me that way too.”

You snort, crossing your arms over your chest. “You? A younger brother? Absolutely not.”

Jeongin’s eyes lite up, his grin widening. “What, so you see me as something else then?”

Your eyes narrow, heart racing as you realise how your words had played right into his hands. “Don’t twist my words.”

But Jeongin isn’t about to let this go. He leans back against the couch, looking entirely too pleased with himself. “Too late. I’m twisting them.” You open your mouth to argue, to tell him he is delusional, but the words die in your throat as you see the look in his eyes. His teasing smile has softened into something gentler, his gaze steady and, for once, not filled with mischief. The silence stretches out between you, and you suddenly feel the weight of what had happened a few days ago settle over you again. The accidental kiss. The way he’d looked at you afterward, surprised but not… upset. Like he hadn’t minded it at all.

Your heart thuds in your chest as you meet his gaze. “Why are you doing this?” you ask, your voice quieter now.

Jeongin tilts his head, his expression thoughtful. “Because you’re fun to be around.” He pauses, his lips quirking up in a half-smile. “And because I like seeing that look on your face.”

You blink, startled by his honesty. “What look?”

“That look,” he speaks softly, his gaze never leaving yours. “The one where you’re actually thinking about me, and not as if you hate me.”

Your breath catches in your throat, the heat rising in your cheeks again. You can’t believe it. The bane of your existence is actually saying something sweet. And the worst part? It isn’t annoying anymore. It’s making your heart race in a way you would never expect.

“I don’t hate you,” you mutter, looking away, embarrassed by how vulnerable you suddenly feel.

Jeongin’s voice softens even more, and he leans closer, his words a gentle murmur. “I know. And I don’t hate you either… but I’m still not going to let you forget that kiss.”

You groan, covering your face with your hands again. “You’re impossible.”

“I know,” he playfully shrugs. “But I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t remind you every day.”

You peek through your fingers at him, rolling your eyes even though you’re unable to hide the small smile tugging at your lips. “You really won’t let me live this down, will you?”

“Not a chance.”

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