#but also I only looked at my computer screen/ I didn’t look off to the side or anything like other people did on the 1st quiz
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katyarn · 3 days ago
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I love the way you write can you do Kenma. Kinda toxic Kenma, reader and him had an argument but it’s mainly just him being awful to her. So reader is sad and then he gets worried she’ll do some stuff to herself and then he comforts her yeaaaa emphasis on the him getting worried and guilty part.☺️
sorry this is kinda detailed
ECHOES OF SILENCE
Pairing: Kenma x Reader
Genre: Angst with Comfort
A/N: IM SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG I BROKE MY COMPUTER. also change of writing style I literally physically couldn't go back to my old one LMAO
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The door shut behind you with a hollow thud, the kind that echoed through your chest long after the sound had died away. The air inside the apartment felt heavier than usual, weighted down with the aftermath of your latest argument with Kenma. Your hands trembled as you reached for the back of a chair, grounding yourself before your legs gave out entirely.
He’d been harsh tonight. Harsher than ever before.
His words—cold, cutting, and merciless—had pierced through every defense you had built. They circled in your mind like vultures, picking apart the fragile pieces of your heart.
“Why do you always need my attention? It’s suffocating, honestly.”
“It’s not my job to make you feel okay all the time.”
“Maybe if you weren’t so insecure, this wouldn’t be a problem.”
Tears burned at the corners of your eyes, but you bit down on your lip hard enough to taste copper, refusing to let them fall. You felt small—so unbearably small—and so unbearably alone.
Kenma hadn’t even looked at you when he delivered the final blow, his amber eyes fixed on the glow of his game screen as if you were nothing more than a background noise he could turn off.
And maybe he was right. Maybe you were too much.
The ache in your chest grew sharper, blooming into a storm of hurt that wrapped around your ribs like a vice. You rubbed at your arms, seeking warmth where there was none, your breaths shallow and shaky. The spiral was familiar, dark thoughts gnawing at the edges of your mind, whispering that you weren’t enough, that no one would miss you if you disappeared for a while.
Or for longer.
You blinked slowly, your gaze drifting to the window. The city lights outside twinkled, cold and distant. There was a numbness creeping up your spine, spreading through your limbs until you felt disconnected from yourself, like you were watching someone else exist inside your body.
Kenma leaned back in his gaming chair, the controller still in his hands. The room was quiet now—too quiet. He could hear his own breathing, uneven and shallow. The last thing you’d said before you left replayed in his mind.
“I don’t know what you want from me anymore.”
There was no fire in your voice, no anger. Just sadness. Defeat.
Kenma swallowed hard, his heart thudding unevenly against his ribs. The glow of the screen in front of him felt blinding now, the sound effects grating in his ears. He turned it off with a sharp click, plunging the room into darkness save for the faint light seeping in from the hallway.
Guilt clawed at his throat, a thick, suffocating weight that made it hard to breathe. He squeezed his eyes shut, running a hand through his hair, the silky strands slipping through his fingers like sand. He knew he was cruel tonight. He’d known even as the words left his mouth that they were too sharp, too unfair. But he’d been so frustrated, so overwhelmed, that he lashed out the only way he knew how—by pushing away the person who mattered most.
And now you were gone.
What if you didn’t come back?
A cold shiver ran down his spine. What if—
No.
No, he couldn’t think like that.
Kenma stood abruptly, his feet carrying him out of his gaming room before he even registered he was moving. He opened the door to your shared bedroom, half expecting you to be sitting on the bed, waiting for him like you always did after a fight. But the room was empty, and the silence was deafening.
His heart dropped.
You didn’t hear the door creak open behind you. You were too lost in the storm of your own thoughts, too far gone to notice the way Kenma hesitated on the threshold, his eyes wide and full of something you hadn’t seen in him before—fear.
“Y/N.” His voice was soft, barely a whisper, but it cut through the haze in your mind like a blade.
You flinched, your head snapping up to meet his gaze. He looked pale, his hands trembling as they gripped the doorframe.
“What do you want?” Your voice cracked, raw and brittle.
“I…” Kenma swallowed, stepping into the room. “I was worried about you.”
You laughed, a bitter sound that didn’t reach your eyes. “Worried about me? Since when?”
“Don’t say that.” His voice broke, and the sound of it made your heart stutter. “Please… don’t say that.”
You looked away, your shoulders curling in on themselves as if you could shrink away from the weight of his guilt. “You don’t have to pretend to care now. You made it pretty clear where I stand with you.”
“I’m an idiot,” he blurted out, his voice cracking with desperation. “I’m… I’m so stupid, Y/N. I don’t know why I say those things. I don’t mean them—I never mean them.”
“Then why do you keep hurting me?”
Kenma felt like the air had been knocked out of his lungs. “I don’t know,” he whispered. “I don’t know how to stop. But I want to. I swear I do.”
The silence between you stretched thin, fragile as glass. Kenma took another step closer, his eyes never leaving yours. “I thought… I thought I was losing you tonight. And it scared me. It terrified me.”
You blinked, fresh tears slipping down your cheeks. “You are losing me, Kenma. Every time you say those things… it chips away at me. And I’m tired of feeling like I’m not enough.”
“I’m sorry,” he breathed, the words trembling on his lips. “I’m so sorry. I’ll do better. Please… don’t leave. Don’t leave me.”
The vulnerability in his voice broke something inside you, the walls you’d built around your heart crumbling as he reached out to cup your face with trembling hands. His touch was warm, grounding, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you let yourself lean into him.
“I’m scared too,” you admitted, your voice barely a whisper.
“We’ll figure it out,” he murmured, his forehead pressing against yours. “Together.”
And for now, that was enough.
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taeghi · 7 months ago
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let's collab | (m)
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⇰ summary : you've always vied for the top spot on onlyfans but "hluvsbabes" makes it tough with his undeniable charm and looks. when you unexpectedly meet him you realize he's even more captivating up close. despite the competition, you find yourself unable to turn down his one request.
⇰ pairing : camboy!heeseung x camgirl!y/n
⇰ genre : smut!! masturbation, vibrators lol, dirty talk, oral, throat fucking, unprotected sex, degrading, praise, sir kink, spanking, brief spitting and hair pulling lol.
⇰ word count : 10k (8k of it is just pure, filthy smut) !!!
⇰ taglist : @criminalyun @princeseung @seokseokjinkim @loveydoveyhee @immelissaaa @iselltulips @strxwbloody @ensaz008 @loavibeycipoosan @liwugy @starfallia @you-make-skz-stay @ineedsomezzz @heeshlove @niniissus @mirramirra @skzenhalove @fandom-freak-geek @lilifiedeans @woahhhhaw @cchangli @enhabooks @heelovesmeknot @fakeuwus @soobinsnovia101 @river-demon-slayer @jjklvr9 @hanjisunginc @iamliacamila @jaylaxies
mdni
you started ‘darlingdove01’ when you needed some extra cash in your second year of college. at first you didn’t show your face at all and you were nervous that someone you knew was going to find out. godforbid your parents found out about your sex work. 
over time, you started to get more comfortable in front of the camera and started to show your face. though you never said your real name. you had started to get a close following and were at the top of the creators of the week every week. the way it worked was that the longer you were number one, the more increase of pay you got. though, you had never been number 1 for more than one week at a time. 
all thanks to hluvsbabes. 
it seemed that every week you and hluvsbabes would alternate who was number one. no matter what new things you tried to increase your audience and views, the next week you were back at number two. 
the day that you were fed up with always being put back to second was the day that you would very soon regret. 
you were lazily scrolling through the app when you noticed hluvsbabes had just started streaming, so, you clicked onto the livestream. 
and there he was. hluvsbabes shirtless with his hard cock pulled out of his pants and sitting in between his fist. his pale skin gleamed against his computer screen light, showing off his abs. he had a black mask covering the lower part of his face. his bangs fell into his squinted eyes as he casually pumped his cock up and down in his fist. 
you couldn’t stop your jaw from going slack as you took in the sight before you. you could tell his mouth was in a playful smirk as he watched the comments fly. suddenly a tip of 20$ flew in the corner of the screen : “take ur pants off pls”. 
you could hear his dark chuckle through your speakers, “mmm, only because you said please.” 
you watched him do as the viewer asks. he dug his thumbs into his pants and boxers and pulled them down to reveal his pale legs that matched the rest of his body. 
he seemed so confident and casual as he sat in his chair fully nude, as if 8,000 people weren’t watching him right now. 
“is that better for you?” his voice asked with a tone of amusement. you watched him laugh as all the comments immediately filled with variations of “yes”. “what else do you want me to do? tell me.” the comments were instantly filled with nasty things that you have to admit you also wanted him to do. 
you had figured hluvsbabes was hot since he was always top one or two, but you didn’t think he would look like this. and that his voice would be so seductive. 
“i won’t be taking off my mask, guys.” hluvsbabes shakes his head with a chuckle, he’s just so amused with his fans. along with his fans you also wished he took off his mask. you would love to see the mouth that formed such seductive words. 
suddenly, a tip came up in the corner of the screen of 100$, “start jerking ur cock, baby”. your jaw dropped at the amount of the tip. you had only ever received 100$ worth a few times in the past two years. hluvsbabes didn’t even seem that shocked by the amount as he did as he was told. 
his hand started to move faster up and down his hard cock. the tip of his cock looked so red and swollen in the light of his computer screen. 
“will you spit on it for me, baby?” hluvsbabes whines out and you instantly shut your legs together. 
the comments are gradually picking up pace, commenting demands and praises, asking questions for him to answer. you can hear his deep grunts through your speakers as he keeps his bang covered eyes on the comments. 
a 15$ tip pops up in the corner again; “tell me i’m ur good girl pls”. 
hluvsbabes amusingly shakes his head, “of course you're my good girl. do you have your fingers in your panties? how wet are you? tell me how wet you are, good girl.” 
you’re in shock from his words, the comments, the amount of tips and from how hot hluvsbabes is. 
his deep laugh distracts you from your thoughts. he throws his head back on the chair’s headrest, making his bangs reveal his forehead. even with his mask on, you can tell that his mouth is open agape from the pleasure he’s feeling. 
“fuck, guys. i’ve been thinking about this– about you all day. my dick has been hard since my morning class.” 
the thought of him having to walk around with a hard cock all day because he thought of getting off in front of thousands of people only turns you on more. he continues to move his hand up and down his cock, his grunts getting louder and louder. 
“i-i’m getting close. i wish you were here to taste my cum, shit.” 
it was getting to the point where you couldn’t ignore the tingly feeling starting to increasingly grow in the pit of your stomach. you felt entranced by him, not being able to take your eyes off of your screen. you had only planned to watch a couple of minutes just to see what the hype was about, but now you’ve been watching him for close to twenty minutes. you lean onto your desk uncaringly over your keyboard and your heart stops when you see : 
darlingdove01 : ghj
your eyes widen at your username in the comment section, praying to god none of his 15k viewers notices. 
“oh, darlingdove is in here,” hluvsbabes’s voice speaks suddenly, making you jolt away from your computer screen and grab the handles of your chair. he tilts his head and looks directly into the camera as he continues, “how are you, darling? do you like the show? do you like watching me get off?” 
you are in shock and you can’t think of what to do. you never thought you would be in a situation like this. you notice all the comments start filling up with your name as hluvsbabes is still stroking his cock and groaning. 
“maybe she’s too busy with her hands to type right now.” hluvsbabes jokes in a grunted laugh. you cover your mouth with your hands in shock. and you read one comment that says “who can blame her?”. 
and with that, you immediately leave the one and only hluvsbabes livestream you have ever watched, the embarrassment being almost too much.
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a few days and a lot of thoughts of hluvsbabes later, you know you have to get back to livestreaming. you had planned a few things for your next live stream despite being busy with college and being distracted by the memories of hluvsbabes. 
the way ‘darling’ slipped from his mouth so casually and sensual. 
usually, people only referred to you as ‘dove’. you didn’t anticipate for darling to be so efficacious. but maybe it was only because hluvsbabes had said it. the way it sounded in his smooth, mischievous tone. it kept you up at night. 
tonight, you had to live stream on your account. 
you started at your usual time; 10pm, in your usual setting; your bedroom. your nightside lamp was lit behind you, being your only source of light besides your computer screen. your body was covered by an oversized hoodie which covered your panties and the top of your bare thighs. 
“hi everyone,” you spoke into your microphone, looking at the rising amount of viewers on your live stream. the comments started piling in, regular questions about yourself mixed with sexual ones that made you laugh to yourself. “my week was good, thank you. how has your week been, guys?” 
you read some of the comments, recognizing some of the usernames that comment. and when you notice a steady amount of viewers and when the comments start teasing you and begging you to start, you begin. 
“tonight,” you start, and sit back in your computer chair, “i think i’ll have some fun with my new toy.” you reach out of the camera’s view and grab the toy you had bought earlier in the week. it was a long, white vibrator. you take your time to show the camera the entire toy, smiling proud of it. “what should we name him?” you giggle out, reading the comments as they flood with names and praises and begging. 
you sit back in your chair, “he has three settings, should i start with the lowest? see how wet he can get me?” you ask, your voice teasing. tips start to come in, telling you to turn it on, telling you that they want to see you cum. 
with a flick of your thumb you turn it onto the lowest setting. a low buzzing sound fills your bedroom, entering the mic for your audience to hear. you lift your feet so they rest on the chair, your knees up in the air. your hoodie bunches at your waist for your panties and bare legs to be revealed. you press the vibrator against your clit over top of your panties, testing it. 
“oh god,” you moan, “even the lowest setting is good.” you inform your audience, keeping your eyes on the camera and comments. you giggle when you read a tip that tells you to move it in circles. “want me to move it? want to watch me pleasure myself?” the comments flood with yes’s. 
you start to move the vibrator in slow, small circles around your clit. wanting to tease yourself and the audience for as long as possible. you would be lying if you said it didn’t feel good. the feeling of the vibrator against your pulsing clit and the eyes of hundreds of people watching you in real time. 
a tip catches your eye; 
heesacc tipped 50$! : that looks like it feels good, darling. why don’t you move up a setting.
your eyes linger on the word darling and the large tip they gave you. 
“okay, let’s put it up to the medium setting.” you agree, your finger flicking the button up. the buzzing becomes louder as the toy starts moving faster. your hand still moves the vibrator in slow, small circles over your panties. “fuck, this is even better, baby.” 
you read comments that compliment you, that tell you they wanna see you cum right now, that you should remove your clothes. 
“want me to take my clothes off?” you tease the camera, your free hand playing with hem of your oversized sweater. “tell me what you want me to take off.” the comments tell you that they want you naked, that your sweater should come off, that everything should come off. 
heesacc tipped 50$! : take your sweater off and play with your tits, darling. rub your nipples and pretend it’s me.
“wanna see my tits? wanna see me play with them just for you?” you bite your lip at the tip, but do as they said, putting down the vibrator for a second as you pull the sweater off your core. your breasts being revealed to the audience. you look at yourself in the mirror, noticing the large wet stain on your panties from your juices and the vibrator. “oh my god, look wet i am.” you wiggle so your panties can be seen better on camera. the large wet stain evident in the computer screen’s light. “this is how good you make me feel.” 
you read the comments that say they wish they were there beside you, that they want to rip your panties off. 
you pick up the vibrator again, still on the medium setting. your one hand holds the vibrator steady against your covered clit, as your free hand comes up and starts to tweak your nipples. your forefinger and thumb hook your nipple, rolling it. you let out moans at the feeling, your back arching off your chair naturally. 
“fuck, i love playing with my nipples, it turns me on so much.” you state honestly, switching between nipples with your fingers. 
heesacc tipped 70$! : let’s see how swollen your pretty pussy is, darling. 
you gulped as you read the tip come through. just reading the words sent a shiver straight to your core. you swore your pussy got so much wetter as you finished reading it. 
you set the vibrator down again, “you wanna see my pussy, baby? wanna see how wet and swollen you got it?” you tease the camera, your hand dragging across your panties. with the multiple “yes”’s commenting, you start to slowly slide your panties off your legs, showing the camera the larger wet stain on them. 
you lean back in your chair again, the same position with your feet on the chair and knees up, but this time your pussy was visible to the camera. your hand glides down between your legs. you keep your eyes on the camera as your fingers slide through your lips so easily. you whine when your fingers rub over your sensitive clit. “i’m so wet, fuck. you could slip right in. stretch out my tight pussy. god, i need that so bad. need to be stretched out.” 
you reach for the vibrator again, “let’s see how long i can last on the high setting. i’m so close already.” you giggle out to your audience. 
you turn the vibrator to the highest setting, the toy buzzing in your hand as you bring it to your bare pussy. instantly you throw your head back, crying out at the pleasure. your other hand massaging your breast. 
heesacc tipped 100$! : cum like a good girl, darling. 
“oh god!” your eyebrows pull together from the pleasure. your knees start to buckle as the pleasure starts to take over you. “i’m gonna cum! fuck, i’m cumming.” you nod your head and try to keep your eyes on the camera as you hit your high. your bare chest heaves as your orgasm washes through your body, struggling to keep the vibrator on your clit from oversensitivity. 
when your head clears and your body relaxes, you manage to say goodbye to your audience, that you’ll see them again next time. you end the livestream, your eyes reading the tips, resting on the username ‘heesacc’. you had never seen them before, but they tip generously throughout the entire livestream. 
and they kept calling you darling.
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you always had to get coffee before class. but your usual coffee shop had a line out the door today, so you had to go to one on campus that you’ve never been to before. though you knew you’d probably be late to class now, you knew you wouldn’t be able to sit through the two hour lecture without your daily coffee. 
you’re distracted by the menu of unfamiliar drinks that you don’t hear the barista question if you’re ready to order until the third time he says it. 
“oh sorry,” you tell him, shaking your head to wake up, “uh, could i get the blonde vanilla latte, please?” you tell the barista. you start to dig through your backpack for some money. 
“darlingdove01?” his voice questions, recognition definite in his voice. 
your head snaps up to look at the barista properly for the first time. your username making your ears and cheeks paint red. “uhh, yeah!” you’ve only been recognized in public a few times, and they’ve usually been at parties or get together, never in a public public place before. 
the barista has dark brown hair that’s covering his forehead. his eyes are big, doe-like and expressive. his features are sharp and delicate at the same time. his complexion is so smooth in the harsh coffee shop lights. “oh, cool.” his voice is smooth as he shrugs, almost impressed. “that’ll be 5.49$, please.” 
so shocked, you scramble to pile some change on the counter, dropping it for him to pick it up. you smile with a faint nod before you walk away for the next person behind you to order. 
you take deep breaths as you wait for your order, telling yourself that it’s okay, that that could’ve gone a lot worse. you weren’t used to people looking at you in public, that’s why you chose to stay behind a screen. 
“blonde vanilla latte!” the barista calls out a few minutes later. you go up and take the cup from him. “have a good day.” he’s polite, and his eyes tell you something that you don’t quite pick up. 
you turn away from the counter, ready to get the hell out of his coffee shop. you glance down at your drink, noticing words written in black on the side. 
let’s collab, hluvsbabes
with his number written underneath.  you turn your head to look back at the barista, but find a woman working the cashier instead. the brown haired boy disappeared from sight. you think back from the one and only hluvsbabes stream you had seen of his. he had kept his bangs over his eyes, hiding how doe-eyed they really were. his mask covered the entirety of his lower face. there was no way to know if the barista was really the hluvsbabes, but his eyes seemed to tell you that he was. that he knew who you were, too.
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your fingers hover over your phone’s keyboard. the apparent hluvsbabes’s phone number typed in above, but the message box left empty. you decide to bite the bullet, even if it wasn’t him, all you had to do was block him after and then act like this never, ever happened. 
youhi, uh hluvsbabes? 
only a few minutes pass before you get a response. 
(123) - ***-**** hahaha yeah but you can call me heeseung
(123) - ***-****
hi, darlingdove01!
you
how’d you know it’s me? my name’s y/n btw
heeseung
bc you’re the only one i’ve given my number out to lately
heeseung
and bc i knew you’d text me sooner rather than later ;)
you smile, rolling over onto your back, your phone in the air as you text hluvs- heeseung back. 
you
damn, i knew i should’ve waited a month
heeseung
noooo i’m glad you texted me
heeseung 
i wanted you to text me 
you
righttt, you said something about a collab? 
heeseung
yeahh, i think you should come over sometime soon 
you could hear your heart strumming against your chest at his text. the hluvsbabes wanted to collab with you. you had only been competing against each other on onlyfans for months. and neither of you had done a collab before, solely solo stuff. you wondered if it’d be a good idea or not. 
heeseung
c’mon, you know i can make you feel good ;)
you were leaning towards it being a good one.
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later in the week you found yourself outside of hluvsbabes apparent apartment. he had only lived a quick bus ride away from you, both of you living close to your university campus. you were biting your fresh manicure the whole bus ride there. 
heeseung had texted you to make sure you knew he wasn’t expecting anything from you. that he just wanted to get to know you, and hey, if a collab happened then it happened! 
though he was very polite and tried his best to reassure you and make you comfortable, you were still nervous to go to a guy’s house that you had seen masturbate before. you had heard what he sounds like when he masturbates. you had thought about his voice and his moans so many times since the “incident”. you were going to a boy’s house that you had cursed at so many times when you saw that he had passed you yet again in subscribers every few weeks. 
you knock on the apartment number’s door that he had given you. you waited a few quick heartbeats until the door opened. 
there stood the barista you had seen a few days ago. his doe-eyes the same and his long bangs covering his forehead. 
“y/n?” he spoke, a smile on his lips that made him seem even prettier than you remembered. 
you tried to picture what hluvsbabes would look like so many times, and now that you finally got a chance to see him, standing in front of you, letting you in his apartment, you were in shock. 
he was so much hotter than you could have ever imagined– now that you weren’t embarrassed in public when someone said your username outloud. 
“wanna come in or stand in the hall all day?” he spoke again, his eyebrow propped up. 
“oh!” you jolted, “sorry, sorry– i’ll come in.” you tell him, smiling at him as he held the door for you and closed once you were in. 
a quick glance around the apartment and you noticed how clean and home-y it looked. a regular couch, coffee table and tv took up one side of the apartment. and on the other side was a small island in the small kitchen. there was a hall on the far side of the room from you– which you figured led to his bedroom. (the room where he masturbates online for money– oh god!) 
“you can sit down on the couch if you want,” heeseung gestures to the couch, wiping his sweaty palms on his gray sweatpants, “do you want a drink or anything?” 
“uh no, i’m good thanks,” you reply, sitting down on the couch, your hands clasping together in your lap. 
as he sits down beside you on the couch, you think about how after you had texted him the other day you had seen he was live on onlyfans– and how you made sure to not press it. the thought of him seeing you watching his livestream again made you physically cringe. 
“so uh,” heeseung starts, a casual smile on his face as he looks at you, “have you thought? about my offer? about the collab?” 
you nod, “i have,” 
“right, well, we don’t have to do it if you don’t want– like i said. we can just hang out– i just saw you and i needed to give you my number i couldn’t just–,” 
“i wanna do it.” 
heeseung’s eyes widen at your answer, “really? only if you’re comfortable.” 
you nod, “yeah, i want to.” 
heeseung’s body relaxes at your words, “okay, when?” 
“right now?” you shrug at him, “i mean you usually stream soon anyways, right?” 
heeseung thought his mind was gonna explode. the hot girl that he’s competed with for top creator was sitting in front of him on his couch, telling him that she wants to collab with him. she could collab with anyone, but she wanted to collab with him. he couldn’t believe what was happening. 
“o-kay,” heeseung stutters and clears his throat, “uh, is there anything you're specifically into– or not into? i mean i’ve seen your streams so i know some things but i-,” 
“you’ve seen my streams?” you ask him confused and intrigued. 
heeseung fights the urge to slap himself, “i mean, yeah. you’re always top creator right?” 
“right, i just didn’t think that you’d watch them, i don’t know.” 
“why wouldn’t i watch them? you’re hot and you know how to engage with the audience.” heeseung admits honestly. 
you squirm at his compliment. “you’re hot, too.” 
heeseung seemingly relaxes completely at this, finally being able to comprehend what’s happening and what you’re thinking. “thank you, i mean i know you’ve seen my streams before, you commented once.” 
you cover your face with your hands, “oh god.” you groan out. 
heeseung laughs at you, “what? is it bad that you’ve watched me masturbate?” 
“no!” you shake your head quickly, eyes wide, “it’s just– i didn’t mean to comment that time– i didn’t even mean to press it! it’s just, just…” 
“i’m just that hot?” heeseung teases you, wiggling his eyebrows. 
“oh my god, shut up!” you laugh, shoving his shoulder. it’s then that you realize how close you’ve gotten on his couch. 
heeseung laughs harder, his face turning serious again when he speaks, “okay but seriously, anything you are or aren’t into?” 
you settle into your spot on the couch and think, “uh, i think i’m okay with anything.” you shrug, “but no anal though. and i’m more into, it being rough.” 
heeseung smirks and asks, “okay no anal. how about choking?” you nod in response, “slapping?” another nod from you, “how about degrading?” you blush and nod. 
“i’m okay with everything but anal, heeseung.” 
“okay, and if you wanna stop, should we come up with a safe word?” 
you ponder for a second and think, “how about, latte?”
heeseung smirks at you, “latte it is, then.” 
both of you stare at each other, lust and playfulness filling your expressions. somehow, your faces are only mere inches apart now as both of you take in the other’s features. you had only seen each other through a computer screen before. had only read each other's usernames on the top creators list– without even knowing your real names. and now you were about to give each other everything– including your first collab. 
your breath quiets as you look into heeseung’s eyes, scanning the brown in them before glancing down at his pretty lips. your lips are just centimeters away from his when he speaks again, “let’s start.” 
heeseung grabs your hand and pulls you up, guiding you down the hall and into his bedroom. he leans over his computer, setting up his account and livestream. you take the time to look around his room. 
his room is definitely the same one you’ve seen on live steam. the multiple monitors on his computer desk. a basic bed with a black and white comforter. and you recognized the few posters on his walls that he allowed to be seen in his lives. 
“okay, it’s ready.” heeseung tells you, “are you sure you wanna do this? we can stop whene–”
“i’m sure, heeseung.” 
“okay, i’ll press start live then,” 
“wait!” you reach for his shoulder, “what about your mask?” you know he’s never gone live without his mask– it’s the one thing that helps keep his identity unknown.
heeseung simply shrugs at you, “i mean, i can’t really eat you out with a mask on, can i?” 
your mouth drops open, but before you can say anything, the camera light flicks on, signaling that you’re live. the camera is pointed towards heeseung’s bed behind you as heeseung ushers you to sit on his usual gaming chair, he stands beside it. 
“hi guys,” heeseung says cooly to the camera. he lowly chuckles to himself as the comments start pouring in. there seems to be hundreds of comments in a second about “darlingdove01” and heeseung’s face. a lot of the comments are talking about how hot heeseung is and that they “always knew he’d be hot!”.  
“today we have a very special guest, darlingdove01 is here,” heeseung gestures to you. you wave at the camera, watching the viewer numbers grow higher and higher as the introduction continues. “and she told me that she likes anything… but anal.” 
“hey!” you shove him playfully with your shoulder. 
he only chuckles before continuing, resting his arm over the back of his gaming chair behind your head, “so today, i’m gonna do anything to please her.” he takes his other hand and cups your chin so you’re forced to look at him, “does that sound alright, darling?”
“yes,” you tell him, watching his warm brown eyes turn darker as you make eye contact. you can tell he’s no longer heeseung, but instead he’s “hluvsbabes”. 
“yes what?” 
“yes, sir.” 
“good girl,” heeseung leans down and presses his lips onto yours. you don’t have time to register that you are kissing the hluvsbabes. his lips are soft against yours, but their movements are deep and rough. just from the kiss you can tell what direction this live stream is going in. he pulls away too soon for your liking, ��pull up your shirt.” 
your hands reach for the bottom hem of your shirt and lift them so your bare breasts are visible to heeseung and the audience. 
“fuck,” heeseung groans, his hands cupping both of them. both of you mentally note how perfectly they fit in his warm hands. he turns to the camera, “doesn’t she have the most beautiful tits?” 
heeseung starts to tweak both your nipples in between his thumbs and forefingers. your hand flies to grip the handle of the chair, your back arches into his touch. 
“that feel good?” he asks you with a smirk, obviously amused by your reaction. 
“yes, sir. they’re sensitive,” you admit. 
“are they?” heeseung tilts his head, “keep playing with them, then.” 
your hands replace heeseung’s. your hands are definitely not as big and as warm as heeseung’s. but you massage your breasts, your fingers playing with your nipples like he told you to. 
meanwhile, heeseung starts to kiss down your revealed torso, his hands unzipping and pulling down your shorts so fast. you watch him get down on his knees in between your legs, his hot breath against your panties. heeseung groans once he’s eye level with your core and can see the faint wet strip on them. he could always see how wet you were on livestream, but now he gets to see in person. 
“i wanna make you feel good,” heeseung says against your skin, pressing kisses on your inner thighs, your legs spread wide for the camera to see. “are you gonna do whatever i say?” 
“yes, sir.” you nod down at him, watching his tongue lick his lips so close to your pussy. ‘i wanna be your slut.” 
heeseung chuckles against your skin, his fingers slip inside your panties as he speaks, “let me feel my slut’s pussy then.” 
you take a deep breath as his fingers start to massage your clit, exploring your pussy for the first time. he’s thought about his fingers touching you so many times before. he could hardly believe that you were actually in front of him right now. 
“you want me to taste your pussy, darling?” 
“please,” your voice sounds so breathy when you speak again, his fingers pressing hard. 
“ask me to.” 
“please taste my pussy, sir.” 
with that heeseung slides his middle finger into your core. it feels so long as it reaches right to your g spot immediately, as if he knew it’d be there. your jaw drops open as he pushes his finger in and out. a whine leaving your mouth as you start to move your hips to meet his finger. his palm is massaging your clit as he moves his fingers in and out of your core. 
heeseung then pulls his finger out of you, “take off your panties, show everyone your pussy.” heeseung leans more to the side as you do what he says. your panties drop to the floor and your legs are on either side of his gaming chair. “fuck, doesn’t she have the most perfect pussy, everyone?” heeseung is staring at the camera as he massages your thighs. 
heeseung’s lips meet your core before you can comprehend. he’s making out with your clit, the sloppy sounds fill your ears and the audience’s as he sucks your clit into his mouth. he reaches his finger up to slide into your core again, so easily. 
“my finger barely fits in there,” heeseung smirks. 
his mouth continues to lick and suck on every part of your pussy. his tongue circles your clit in his mouth. your hand is gripping the chair arm as you watch him, unable to contain your moans. 
“fuck yes, sir.” you cry out, throwing your head back from pleasure. you don’t think anyone has been able to make you feel this good with their mouth before. your ex’s could never make you cum at all. 
heeseung is moaning against your core, letting you and the audience know that he is also enjoying this, “god this pussy tastes so good, tastes better than i’d ever imagined before.” your stomach tightens at his words, feeling high on the pleasure heeseung’s mouth and fingers is giving you so easily and the audience watching you both. “keep playing with those tits, darling.” 
your hands fly up to your sensitive nipples, almost forgotten by how pretty heeseung looks while he makes out with your pussy. your body’s whole senses are heightened. heeseung can start to feel you clench around his fingers as your hips start to buck up to his mouth, wanting more of him. 
“fuck that feels so good.” you whine out, your eyebrows furrowing together at the pleasure. 
“are you gonna cum?” heeseung asks lowly. he watches you nod at him, unable to form words. 
then, heeseung rips away from you. his mouth and finger gone and before you can realize, he’s standing again beside you. his hand wrapped around your neck gently– forcing you to look at him with your legs spread. 
“you have to ask for permission if you want to cum,” heeseung’s voice is stern as he looks you in the eyes, “understand?” 
“yes, sir.” 
heeseung’s smile returns as his hand leaves your neck, “here, taste yourself.” your mouth opens for heeseung to slide his finger inside your mouth. your lips close around his finger, sucking it into your mouth as your tongue swirls around it, wanting to taste yourself. “good girl.” heeseung removes his finger, and instead presses a kiss to your lips, softly, passionately, as if to check in on you. but you’re so hungry for an orgasm that you really would do anything right now. “are you ready to make me feel good?” 
“yes, sir.” 
“get on your knees.” 
you sit up, closing your legs for the first time and feeling how wet your inner thighs were. heeseung pushes his chair to the side as he stands, looking down at you as you kneel before him. “you wanna suck my cock?” heeseung questions you, noticing how you tighten your thighs at his question. his hand slides down on your chin for you to look up at him. you nod in response to him. “ask me.” 
“can i suck your cock, sir?” 
“good girl, take it out.” 
your hands work to unbutton his pants, pulling them down to his upper thigh to release his cock. you just have to stop and marvel at it. there in front of you is hluvsbabes huge cock that you had thought about stretching you out for weeks. it’s much bigger in person you think. it’s hard, and the tip is so pink as some veins swirl down it. 
“open your mouth.” heeseung starts to glide his dick into your mouth. your hand coming up to grip the base of it as your lips close around the tip. “god, keep those eyes on me.” heeseung groans out as you start to such his cock. heeseung keeps his hand on your head, hsi fingers meshing with your hair. 
you do keep your eyes on him with as much of his cock as you can manage in your mouth. your hand jerks what you can’t fit as you moan against his dick. 
“god you’re so big sir,” 
“yeah? think it’ll fit inside your pussy? think it’ll stretch you out so good?” heeseung retorts, watching your mouth work on his cock. he’d be lying if he said you weren’t making him close to his orgasm already, your innocent eyes looking at him as your mouth sucks his soul out. 
“yes, sir, please– want your cock so bad.” you speak before going back to sucking his cock. your tongue circles the hot, pink tip of it before tracing the delicious veins. your hand moves in rhythm with your mouth. 
“are you gonna be a good girl and let me fuck your mouth?” 
you nod at him with his cock still fully in your mouth. heeseung moves both of his hands to grip your head as your own hand drops to your thighs, so tempted to play with your clit, but you know sir wouldn’t approve. 
heeseung starts to slowly move his hips so his cock moves in and out of your mouth. he stops when the tip is at your throat– feeling your throat tighten against the tip. he almost pulls out fully everytime, just so that the tip is at your swollen lips before he pushes back in again. 
“oh, my fucking god,” heeseung moans out, looking at the camera monitor to see him fucking your pretty mouth. your mouth feels too good for him to even notice that the viewer count is at 16,000. “play with my balls like a good girl.” 
heeseung continues to fuck your mouth as your hand reaches fro his balls. they are heavy in your palm as you start to massage them gently. tugging on them and moving them around easily with your salvia that has dripped down. 
heeseung pulls his dick fully out of your mouth, letting you breathe for a moment. you could feel your pussy drip down onto his carpet– you hoped it wouldn’t stain. 
“open your mouth,” heeseung tells you. your jaw drops open, revealing your used tongue and mouth. heeseung leans over you and let’s a drop of his spit lands right onto your tongue before he starts to hit his dick against your tongue. he mixes your spit with his on his cock and both of you groan out at that the thought of it. 
heeseung goes back to fucking your mouth. his grip on your head tight as he’s picked up the pace of his hips. his cock sliding so quickly in and out of your mouth. the sounds of your saliva and gurgling against his cock fill the room and microphone. 
“that’s it, like that, like that like a good girl,” heeseung groans out his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he feels his own pleasure boiling. probably boiling too much if he wants this to last any longer. 
heeseung pulls away from you and pulls you with him for you to sit on the floor while he moves back to sit on the edge of his bed, his feet on the ground for you to sit in between them. your chest is heaving from excitement and lack of air. you watch as heeseung pulls down his pants fully and throws them on the floor beside his bed. 
heeseung’s hand wraps around your neck as he looks down at you, “you ready to get fucked, darling?” 
“yes, please.”
“ask me to fuck you.” 
“can you please fuck me, sir.” 
“get up on the bed and turn around.” 
heeseung’s voice is demanding as you scramble to stand up, your knees tired from kneeling for so long. you get up on his bed for the first time. you turn around so your ass is towards him in the air, your face pressed into his bed. 
heeseung pushes your chest further into his bed by placing his hand on your back, “stay like this like a good girl, okay?” 
“yes, sir.” 
“i’m gonna fuck this little pussy just like the slut you are.” heeseung grunts, spreading your ass cheeks more for him to slide his cock right inside of you.
the stretch of his cock is just what you imagined it would be. it’s almost blissful once he’s fully inside. you can feel the tip of his cock basically reaching your cervix. once he’s bottomed out completely, both of you groan out into his bedroom, pleasure taking over both of you. 
“there we go, darling,” heeseung grunts through his teeth as he starts to slide back out of you. both of you feel each and every vein of his cock sliding against your oh, so wet walls. “let sir fuck you like a slut.”
heeseung’s one hand grips your waist as the other one stays on your back. his hips quickly pick up pace, his cock easily going in and out of you due to his saliva and your juices mixing together. your hands grip the blanket on his bed, crying out into the bed as you finally get what you want. 
“oh my god it’s so big!” you whine out, your eyes trying to focus on the camera. 
“yeah? it’s so big and full just for you, it’s all just for you.” heeseung grunts out, his bangs covering his forehead like usual, his eyes entranced only on you. he watches as your entire body jerks forward everytime he slams his cock into you. his hands run down and grab your ass, wanting to finally feel it after he’s seen it so many times on your livestreams. 
heeseung slaps your ass, making you cry out a curse. the pain of it turning you on even more. you can feel the wetness dripping down your thighs as heeseung fucks you even rougher. heeseung’s balls are soaked from your juices. 
“reach down and rub your clit for me.” heeseung demands you, trying to keep his voice steady when he speaks.
you manage to sneak your arm under your body to start rubbing circles on your clit with your index and middle fingers. you instantly cry out. with your fingers on your clit and heeseung managing to hit your g spot with every single thrust the pleasure starts to boil up more and more in your tummy. 
“oh shit!” 
“you better not cum unless i tell you to,” heeseung smacks your ass again, harder, a warning. “you hear me?” 
“fu-fuck yes, sir.” 
heeseung suddenly grabs you up from the bed from under your arms, mumbling a “come here” before he turns you to face the camera. both of you standing now with his cock still lunged inside of you. 
“let everyone see this fucking slut’s body.” heeseung grunts out, staring directly at the camera as he continues to thrust up into you from the back. he reaches over your front, rubbing your clit for you now. your head is thrown back onto his shoulder, trying to keep standing upwards. “you like everyone seeing me use you like this? like using you to get off?” 
“f-fuck sir, can i cum? please?” you whine out, barely being able to keep your eyes open as you look at him. 
“yeah? you wanna cum, darling?” heeseung voice is almost teasing as he doesn’t stop his movements. 
“please let me cum, sir. please i’m so close.” 
“ok, cum for me, do it.” heeseung nods, his grunts loud in your ear as he manages to fuck you faster and faster. 
you can’t lift your head from being thrown back onto heeseung’s shoulder. your body feels weak as heeseung fucks you infront of the camera, probably hundreds of people watching you come undone on hluvsbabes’ cock. you’ve been so close to orgasming for which feels like hours at this point. 
“i’m cumming! i-i’m cumming!” you manage to cry out. your moans get higher in pitch as you finally reach your high. 
if heeseung wasn't holding your body up with his arms, then you wouldn’t fell straight to the floor. the pleasure was almost over consuming. your body was on high sensitivity everywhere. to be honest, it had been awhile since anyone besides yourself or your vibrator had made you cum. that probably not getting any dick for a while and then fucking the hluvsbabes would probably make you feel as lightheaded as you do now. 
heeseung gently pulls his cock from you, his hands slowing down on your clit before pulling away from it. he leads you to lay down on his bed. your head is on his pillow as he crawls on top of you. your bodies are still very visible to the camera from the way his bed is positioned. 
heeseung starts to press soft, gentle kisses into your neck and jaw, letting you calm down from your very obvious, hard climax. 
you hear heeseung chuckle into your ear before he speaks, “is this a bad time to tell you that i donated to you on your livestream before?” 
through your post-nut haze, your eyes widen as you process the information, “what? when?” 
heeseung laughs before he moves down your body, kissing every (sweaty) inch that he could, “a few days ago i guess, darling. i’ve watched your streams quite a lot to be honest.” 
the way the nickname rolls off his tongue so easily makes it click in your head. “oh my god, you were the person who donated like 200$ the other day!” you also start laughing at the realization. who could not believe that hluvsbabes not only watched multiple of your streams, but also donated to you. your competitor for top creator was also boosting your content. 
“yeah, i didn’t know how or if i should tell you that. but i guess now is the better time.” heeseung pulls away from your body so he’s on his knees hovering over you. “now put those legs up, let me see your swollen pussy again.” 
heeseung helps guide you to hook your arms around your knees, holding your legs up, pressed against your chest. your entire core is exposed for not only heeseung’s eyes, but the camera’s and all of the audience’s. 
“god please but your cock back inside of me, sir.” 
heeseung drags his cock through your folds teasingly, “yeah? the slut wants to be stretched out again?” 
“yes! sir, yes!” 
heeseung guides his cock back inside of you with his hand, bottoming out completely in one thrust. your arms stay hooked around your knees, your hands resting on your ankles to keep yourself from squirming from the pleasure. 
heeseung leans over you, his hand coming down to choke you again. his grip on your neck tight as he starts the previous pace he had. rough and hard. your whole body moves with every thrust, his headboard hitting his wall. 
“oh fuck oh fuck!” you cry out, your pussy so sensitive from being overstimulated. 
heeseung could feel your walls flutter around his cock, “you better not cum.” he pulls his cock out again, his hand slaps the tip of his cock over your clit, making you jerk up into his pillows. “tell me you won’t cum without permission, slut.” 
“i-i won’t cum without permission, sir.” 
heeseung slides back into you, his pace rough. the banging of his headboard in rhythm with his thrusts. your cries of pleasure mixing with his grunts. heeseung keeps both of his hands on your waist as he hovers over you. his main focus is to fuck you so good that you forget everything else. and by the way your eyes start to haze over with pleasure he can tell that he isn’t too far from it. 
“keep your legs up,” heeseung grunts to you, reminding you to keep your knees by your face. your swollen pussy is visible to him now. he has clear access to see his cock fucking into you. your lips are so puffy that he can’t help his thumb rubbing your also swollen clit. your head is thrown back into the pillow, his hard, circles on your clit mixing with his hard thrusts are overpowering you completely. 
heeseung leans over you, his hand gripping your neck again. his face is inches from you, his lips almost on yours. his thrusts don’t stop as he chokes you. 
“you like being a good girl for me?” heeseung asks you more quietly, loosening his grip on your neck for a moment to let you speak. 
“y-yes sir, i love it.” you nod up to him, completely submissive to him. 
“turn around for me again, then.” 
although your body felt weak from the pleasure, your adrenaline was rushing enough for you to be able to get up and turn over quite quickly. your ass up in the air as you grip onto the pillow in front of you. you feel heeseung behind you, lining up his hard, soaked cock with your soaked pussy. 
“push back on it, darling.” 
you let your knees push back, feeling his cock insert inside of you, filling you up yet again. this angle made him feel even bigger. his cock pressing into your cervix is only when you stop pushing back. heeseung’s hands land palm down on your ass when you bottom out. the pain makes you jut forward. the moan that escapes your lips as the pain settles on your ass is sinful. 
“god, i love your ass,” heeseung smacks it again, watching it start to turn red, turning him on more he thought his cock was going to explode any minute now. 
with that thought, heeseung starts sliding in and out of you again. his hand reaching over your back to pull your hair into a makeshift ponytail, pulling your upper half backward. the pain from his pulling makes you cry out in the best way. all of your senses seem to be overcome by heeseung. your grip on his pillow that smelt like him, tightened. 
“you like being fucked like this? like being used?” heeseung grunts out to you, his own eyebrows furrowing together as your walls clench around him. 
“ye-yeah, sir.” 
“say it.” 
“i like being used, sir.” 
“look at me while i fuck you.” 
with his hand still pulling your hair, you turn your head to look at him. his face is flushed, his lips are swollen from probably biting them so much. there’s sweat dripping down his line of abs that you just want to lick off. his bangs are sweaty and stuck to his forehead. he looks so hot. 
heeseung continues to fuck you until his thrusts get sloppy, his grunts get softer and his headboard isn’t banging against his wall. you turn to look at him, “let me ride you.” 
his hand smacks against one of your ass cheeks, making you cry out, “ask me.” 
“can i please ride you, sir?” 
heeseung pulls out of you, both of you switching places so now heeseung’s head is in the pillow that you were gripping. his legs are flat out against the bed as you crawl over him. both of your knees are on either side of him as you look down at him now. 
slowly, you start to sink down onto his cock. you close your eyes as he bottoms out in you once again. this angle felt entirely different. you could feel how hard and big he was inside of you. heeseung’s hands run up and down your bare thighs, letting you get use to the angle. 
“you good?” he asks from below you, concern on his face. 
“yeah, just sensitive -is all.” you shrug to him and start to move slowly. you start out slow, wanting to build both of your orgasms again. your knees lift your body up and down with the help of heeseung’s hands on your waist, he helps lift you. 
your hands grip your tits, massaging them again. your sensitive nipples hard against your palm. you start to bounce down on his harder, his tip hitting your g spot everytime now. you cry out in pleasure again. 
“fuck just like that,” you tell him, your eyes closed as you nod to him. 
“like that?” heeseung teases you, his cock hitting your g spot again. 
“y-yes,” you tell him, bouncing harder. 
“fuck, i love his pussy,” heeseung grunts to you, “so warm and tight around my cock.” 
“oh my god,” your body falls forward, your hands resting on either side of his head as heeseung takes over the thrusts completely. his hands on your waist as he thrusts his hips upwards into your pussy. “fuck, sir.” 
heeseungs grip on you leaves you to go nowhere. just stay on top of him as he fucks into you. your knees feel weak against his mattress. you can feel his balls slapping your ass every time he bottoms out in you. heeseung can feel your juices dripping down onto his lower stomach. 
“okay turn around, slut, let the audience see you.” heeseung gently pushes your core up and off of him. your mind feels dazed as heeseung has to literally, physically flip you over on him. 
now that you’re in reverse cowgirl, you can see yourself in the camera’s monitor. heeseung lays underneath you still, so just your bare body can be seen completely. you look so different you usually do, you’re glowing. 
your feet and arms hold your body up over heeseung, his hands on your waist as he slides himself up into you. 
“oh fuck!” you cry out, watching heeseung dick disappear inside of you in the camera. you start to bounce up and down on his cock again, though you keep your eyes open to watch yourself. 
“shit, keep going, baby.” heeseung grunts below you, “just like that.” 
with every thrust heeseung’s balls are hitting your clit. you can hear a wet squelch between your bodies everytime you move. your pussy is so wet around his cock. heeseung wraps his arm around your body, massaging your clit with his fingers in a circle once again. 
“yes, sir! rub my clit, sir please!” you cry out to him. your hands sturdy yourself on his chest behind you as you continue to bounce on him. his cock filling you up every time. his hard balls slapping against your pussy. his fingers keep moving against your clit. “i’m so close, sir, so close!” 
suddenly, heeseung’s fingers stop and he’s pushing you off of him. your chest is heaving as you look back on him. your pussy is clamping around nothing, so desperate to cum. 
“lay down,” heeseung is also out of breath when he speaks, “wanna see your face when you cum.” heeseung grabs your forearm and helps you lay down again. he puts your one leg up to your face, allowing him access to slide into your fucking soak pussy again. 
heeseung holds your leg up, while the other starts to rub your clit again. his thrusts continue to stretch you out, to hit your cervix over and over again. you aren’t sure how much longer you can last with this much pleasure he continuously gives you. you’ve never had sex this good before. 
“want me to fill up your little pussy?” heeseung grunts above you. 
“yes, sir.” 
“ask me.” 
“please cum inside of me!” you cry out, heeseung’s hand smacks your thigh before returning to hold your leg up, “own this pussy, fucking own it it’s yours!” 
“oh fuck!” heeseung grunts out, your words making him closer to his own orgasm so quickly. 
“oh my god i wanna feel you fill me up so bad, sir.” you were becoming so desperate, so needy. you wanted to cum so bad. you wanted heeseung to cum so bad. 
“fuck me, keep talking, keep talking, darling.” 
“please cum inside of me! i want it so bad!” you tell him honestly. his thrusts making your whole body move with each thrust. you can feel his cock start to twitch inside of you. his moans getting higher, mixing with your own. 
“fuck, baby, i’m gonna fucken cum,” heeseung tells you, his fingers rubbing your clit faster and harder. 
“me too, me too.” you cry out, your eyes closing as the pleasure takes over you. 
heeseung’s eyebrows furrowed together as the pleasure became too much for him, too. curses and moans fill up his bedroom– entertain the audience that’s watching you through the camera. he feels your walls clench harder around him than ever before as his cock starts to spurt his white sperm. 
heeseung paints your walls with his cum as you grip his forearms tight. your second orgasm making your body feel numb from how good you feel. his thrusts finally stop as his grunts slow down. his cock rests inside of you as he lays on top of you. both of you catching your breaths and coming down from your highs for one second. 
“fuck,” heeseung curses in your ear, his chest heaving against yours. he finally pulls out of you, both of you watching his cum slowly trickle out of your pussy. “god that’s so hot.”  heeseung reaches down to swipe some of his cum. 
you immediately open your mouth, wanting a taste of it. heeseung rests his fingers on your tongue, letting you taste his salty sperm. you moan around his fingers, sucking them dry of his cum. 
“you’re such a good girl.” heeseung grunts out, “you’re gonna make me hard again.” 
you laugh around his fingers, “i wouldn’t be opposed to that.” 
heeseung smirks at you and kisses you deeply. both of your eyes closing as you welcome the other’s lips. the taste of heeseung’s cum not bothering either of you. 
heeseung pulls away from you and is the first to stand up. he reaches over and tosses you his shirt to slip on before he heads back to his computer desk. 
you easily slip on his shirt and pull his sheets and blanket over top of your bare legs. 
“holy shit.” heeseung exclaims, pure shock and what almost sounds like fear in his voice. 
“what?” you sit up in his bed properly, trying to look at his computer screen. 
“there’s 30,000 viewers right now.” 
“holy shit.” you cover your mouth. you had never had that many viewers before in your life. 30,000 viewers, it’s literally like yours and heeseung’s fan bases came together to view your live stream. 
heeseung clears his throat, “uh, thank you guys so much, really. we hope you enjoyed, right?” he looks over at you from his shoulder. 
“right, we’ll see you next time, hopefully. thank you.” 
“right, because there definitely needs to be a next time.” heeseung winks and with a final wave he ends the stream. you notice the red light on the camera turns off. 
you lay back in heeseung’s pillows, feeling tired as your legs gain back their strength. you hear heeseung hum gently as he fixes things on his computer, on his hluvsbabes account. you feel relaxed as you lay in his bed, wanting to sleep so bad. 
“holy shit!” heeseung yells louder suddenly, his humming stopping as he pushes his chair back, standing up in only his boxers. 
“what?” your heart races, concerned from his yelling. “what happened?”
“y/n,” heeseung turns to you with a silly grin on his face, “do you know how much money we made off of that?” 
you sit up straight, leaning closer to him though he’s meters away, “how much, heeseung.” 
heeseung can’t contain his excitement when he states, “15k.” 
“oh my god!” you cover your mouth, not believing what you’re hearing. “you’re fucking lying.” 
“no i’m not! come look!” 
you stand up, legs wobbling a bit, but heeseung catches your arm nonchalantly. bringing you over to sit in his chair again. there, on the computer screen, is the number 15,000$ in tips connected to the livestream you had finished. 
“oh my god, heeseung!” you turn to him, your excitement meeting his. both of you wrap your arms around each other, your squeals filling the room as you rock side to side with excitement. “15k!” 
“15k!” heeseung shouts back as he pulls away slightly, his hands still on your waist. 
“now we definitely have to do it again.” you tease him. 
heeseung smiles, but you notice his shoulders tense, “yeah, but before that,” heeseung swallows harshly, “could we go on a date?’ 
you sit up in his chair, wearing his shirt and nothing else, “wow, the hluvsbabes wants to go on a date with me.” 
“of course, i mean, i recently got a lot of money. so, i can spend it all on you.” 
you shove his shoulder with your hand, “of course i’ll go on a date with you, heeseung.” 
“really?” heeseung asks, his face lighting up so prettily. 
“yeah, but only if you fuck me really good after.” 
“that, i can definitely promise.”
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galariangengar · 1 year ago
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#tbh this professor for this online pharmacology class sucks and has a stick up her ass#like what’s the point of having us do discussion and quizzes on videos if you’re emphasizing to study these dumb flash cards???#she’s also hella strict with the discussions too and like for what???#requiring us to format original posts and replies a specific way/including a word count/ being strict of citations/etc#like this whole class could just be memorizing flash cards and takins exams tbh since nothing else really matters#and again I’ve never had an online class that proctored exams/quizzes require us to do a desk scan before???#it’s dumb af/I gotta lift my whole laptop to do the desk/workspace#I’m gonna be mad if she’s says anything about me working on my dad’s desk/office cuz his computers are off and I removed his notes/notebooks#i still don’t know if I did it right tbh but I tried to show the desk and that no notes or papers were around#idk I’m a bit anxious that she’ll email me and make me take a new quiz with new questions cuz that’s what she threatened us with#but also I only looked at my computer screen/ I didn’t look off to the side or anything like other people did on the 1st quiz#although tbh I did write a couple things on my left hand but I never looked at it#but I’m a little worried if I adjusted my glasses with my left hand and if it’ll flag that my left had had stuff inside…#although proctorio I think only flags of you look off to the side and away from your computer screen which I didn’t…#idk I’m probably overreacting and overthinking… I did good on the quiz and got 14/15 and I did remember the material#jazz uses curse! 💜
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notyourjaem · 8 months ago
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CALL OUT MY NAME ☆ c. seungcheol
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☆ PAIRING: slightly possessive boyfriend!cheol x reader (f)
☆ GENRE: NSFW (18+ readers only!!)
☆ SUMMARY: your ex boyfriend can’t seem to stop texting you lately; wouldn’t want to make your current boyfriend angry would you?
☆ WORD COUNT: about 1.8k
☆ WARNINGS: cheol is possessive in a protective way, mentions of an ex boyfriend that won't leave you alone, ex boyfriend is min yoongi, cheol has a deep voice, mentions of cheol working out, cheol is tatted, he wants to fight her battles for her (king), unprotected sex, different sex positions (cowgirl, kneeling missionary), semi voyeurism, clitoral stimulation, spanking (like once), cumshot, foul language, cheolie is very sweet at the end!! lmk if i missed anything!!
☆ AUTHORS NOTE: posting this in honor of @miupow’s birthday!! happy birthday, lia!! you’re one of my dearest friends (and moots) on here. im so glad we met!! and also shout out to lia for beta-ing her own bday fic and correcting my half asleep writing. yeah even i don’t know what was going on there.
BE ADDED TO MY TAGLIST HERE!
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You were setting a bowl of food and a glass of iced tea down on your kitchen island, when your laptop started ringing.
“Ah, Cheol, give me a minute!” You spoke out loud to yourself, quickly grabbing a fork before tapping your keyboard to accept the video call coming through.
“Hi, Cheolie.” You greeted in a sing-songy voice as he -was filled up your screen with a smile on his face.
Your boyfriend was in Japan on a business trip for a few days; scheduled to come home tomorrow. You both made it a routine to have dinner together every night over video calls.
“You look pretty.” He answered, his gaze never leaving you.
You giggled at his compliment. “You see me everyday.”
Seungcheol smirked. “And? You’re always pretty.” He motioned at your bowl that was in the camera frame. “What’s for dinner today?”
“Oh, um, spicy pork bibimbap. You know; my favorite. What are you having?”
Seungcheol pointed to some things on the table he was sitting at. “Tuna and rice with some spicy sauce and vegetables, and chicken.” He let out a laugh. “Kind of boring.”
You smiled at him before taking a bite of your food. “Did you go to the gym today? I saw the workout notification on my watch.” You referenced your activity sharing feature on your Apple Watch.
“Yeah, of course the last day I'm here I find this really nice gym.” Seungcheol rolled his eyes and took a bite of his food before speaking again. “I was so excited that I actually almost did a 400 pound deadlift.”
“Oh my god…” You were just as excited for your boyfriend’s gym achievements as he was.
“Hang on, I think I took some pictures.” He picked up his phone and was scrolling through some pictures. “Yeah, see?” Seungcheol turned his phone screen towards his computer so that you could see. He scrolled through pictures of the scenery of the gym, and some pictures in the mirror.
“I like that one.” You suddenly spoke up with a smirk on your face.
“Which one?” Seungcheol questioned before looking at his phone to see the one of him completely shirtless In the mirror, showing off his back that was beautifully adorned with muscles and his tattoo that you loved so much. “Oh with the tattoo?” He smirked, knowing fully well how much you liked it.
“Yeah.” You smirked, cheeks flushing like this was the first time you saw him. Seungcheol always seemed to have that effect on you.
“I didn’t go to the gym today, I went shopping instead.” You slightly laughed.
“Yeah, I saw the Amex notification.”Seungcheol joked, setting his phone back down. “Buy anything nice?”
You gasped, dramatically covering your face. “See! That's why I don’t like using it all of the time.” Seungcheol always let you use his credit card to treat yourself however you pleased, and sometimes you would buy clothing pieces that he’d like on you. Unfortunately, the notifications always went to his phone.
Seungcheol looked at his phone again, laughing at your dramatics. “It’s not like it shows me what you bought. It just tells me the store.”
“Well you’ll be home by evening tomorrow, right?” You questioned. “I’ll show you then. It’s–“
Your voice trailed off as suddenly a notification of a text message popped up at the top of your laptop screen. It was your ex boyfriend, Min Yoongi. For some reason he has been non stop bothering you lately; asking how you’ve been, if he can “catch up” with you. You ignored every one of his advances thus far, but you hadn’t said anything to Seungcheol.
“What’s wrong?” Seungcheol instantly noticed the change in your tone and expression. “You got so quiet all of a sudden.”
You sighed. “Cheolie, I hate you fighting my battles for me.”
“It’s my job.” Seungcheol quickly retorted. “What’s going on?”
“My ex boyfriend. Do you remember Yoongi?” Seungcheol nodded. “For some reason he’s been trying to get a hold of me; texting me like he wants something between us again.”
Seungcheol got closer to his computer, the tone in his voice suddenly deepening. “Show me the texts.”
You picked up your phone, showing him the screen of multiple texts to all of which you did not respond to.
“And you didn’t respond?” He questioned, reading the texts on your phone as you swiped through.
“No, I haven’t responded to any of them.” You answered.
“Okay.” Seungcheol spoke, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms in front of himself. “I can’t get an earlier flight out. But If this happens again, I’m dealing with him.”
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“Yeah, fuck yourself on my cock just like that baby.” Seungcheol sighed, looking down at his lap to where his cock was disappearing inside of your wet cunt. “Fucking use it.”
Seungcheol brushed your hair off of your shoulders for access to your collarbones; sucking and biting at your skin. You whimpered In response, combing your fingers through his dark hair and giving it a slight tug. That only egged him on more; letting out a low grunt.
Seungcheol gripped onto your hips, angling them forwards so that when you slammed down onto him, his cockhead would be hitting a different spot.
“Cheol! Fuck!” You cried out, reaching to hold onto Seungcheol’s sturdy frame before falling into his chest.
“Yeah, gonna fucking cum?” Seungcheol’s grip moved to your thighs as you whimpered; your face buried in the crook of his neck. “Look at me, look at me.”
You pulled yourself up, still using him for stability. You couldn’t fight your orgasm right now if you tried to.
Until your phone starts ringing, lost somewhere in the tangled bed sheets.
You jump, clearly startled by the ringtone playing at almost full volume.
“The fuck….?” Seungcheol muttered, eyes fixated on his wet cock disappearing in between your legs.
“Ignore it.” You hissed, lifting yourself up off of him enough so just the tip was inside of you, only to slowly sink back down to feel every inch of Seungcheol’s cock.
Seungcheol knew that was on purpose, yet he still let out one of the hottest moans to ever come out of his mouth.
“Give me that fucking phone.” Seungcheol spat, putting one arm around you to keep you in place as he rummaged around the sheets to his right.
He managed to find it despite your whining, looking to see that the screen read a phone number across it and not any caller ID.
Seungcheol shot you a glance before swiping the green icon at the bottom of the screen to pick up the call. He then put it on speaker phone.
“Who is this?” The tone in his voice was deep and oddly steady considering that you were still perched up on his lap with his cock inside of you.
“Y/N?” The voice on the other side of the phone said your name, startling you. You froze. It was Min Yoongi of all people that could be calling you.
You saw Seungcheol’s jaw clench as he heard another man say your name, but with his free hand he still gave your ass a light smack to keep moving.
“Why are you calling my girlfriend’s phone? I know who this is.” Seungcheol used his free hand to pinch one of your nipples between your fingers, making you whimper.
“I just wanted to talk…” Yoongi’s voice trailed off and you didn’t know what he said only because Seungcheol whispered to you to lie down onto your back.
You followed directions, wincing at the empty feeling between your legs when you were on your back. Seungcheol immediately pushed your knees towards your shoulders and kneeled in front of you, aligning his cock with your entrance once again.
“We can talk.” Seungcheol spoke to the phone while he was teasing your folds with the tip of his cock. You grabbed a hold the comforter with your left hand, desperate for something to hold onto.
“Cheol, fucking put it in. Please.” You whined loud enough to be heard through the phone. Seungcheol had a satisfied look on his face, nodding as he finally pushed himself inside of you slowly enough so you felt everything; all of him.
You threw your head back; arching your back against the bed. Seungcheol put his hand onto your stomach to keep you still, then moved it down slightly to stimulate your clit with his thumb. Letting out a strained moan, you nearly wanted to scream.
“Awful quiet there, Yoongi. That’s your name right?” Seungcheol’s voice was so deep that your core clenched around him tight. “What happened to talking?” You were sure that the noises of his cock sliding in and out of you could be heard on the phone by now.
“I mean, obviously I’m a bit busy right now.”
“Cheol!” Your voice startled even you. Not quite a scream, but more like a whiny moan. Seungcheol’s body was quickly against yours within mere seconds; with his weight pressing into you.
“Mhm, call out my fucking name baby.” Seungcheol’s lips ghosted over yours as he lightly kissed you, then he found your right hand that was gripping onto the comforter and laced his fingers with yours. “Let him and everyone else hear it.”
The call either dropped or your phone died because it was silent, but neither of you were paying any attention.
“Cheol! fuck!” You swore, and just like that you were cumming all over his cock; shaking as he kissed you sweetly all over your face.
Seungcheol was on the brink of cumming, and you could tell. So naturally, you used his weakness to your advantage. He always gave in when you begged him to cum inside of you; he’d never tell you no.
“Cheolie, cum in me….please.” You gripped onto his thick arms as he supported himself above you; following your words exactly as his breathing became unsteady.
“Shit…fuck.” Seungcheol panted, dropping his head and making his hair fall into his face. You couldn’t help but let out a whimper at the feeling of him finishing inside of you.
The two of you were silent, and Seungcheol adjusted himself to not drop his entire weight onto you.
“I’m sorry, cheolie.” You muttered, running your fingers through his now messy hair.
He quickly had a concerned look on his face. “For what, princess? You didn’t do anything.”
You slightly laughed at the situation. “My ex is calling me, literally while we’re having sex.”
Seungcheol was smirking. “Yeah, but he’ll probably never call again.” He grabbed your hand, kissed the back of it, then kissed your face. “He should know that you’re mine.”
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☆ TAGS: @lavnderwonu @dokyeomkyeom @https-yeonjun
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jezebelblues · 3 months ago
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dress to impress | h.s
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summary: in which you're a famous streamer n you finally let harry join one of your streams. (though the evening ends a bit differently than you expected)
cw: smut18+ oral (m receiving), daddy kink if u squint, spitting, fem!reader, unedited
word count: approx 3k
| yes yes i know that dti didn’t come out till last year just pretend 😔 also btw if this is cringe random then pretend i don’t exist fr i got this idea cause caseoh randomly posted a dti update while i was at the gym so thank u caseoh
not my gif. if u have the info of the original creator, lmk so i can appropriately credit them.
masterlist
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December 2021 | London
Snow dusted the window softly, frosting the glass and sending melting droplets downward against the pane, dancing in the direction of the wind. The world was still in the throes of the pandemic, which allowed the lines between professional and personal to blur a bit. 
YN had been a popular streamer for a few years now, but her numbers only grew once her relationship went public with the award winning, globe-trotting man that was Harry Styles. 
She had been avoiding this moment for months. Not because she didn’t want it to happen—oh no, she had definitely wanted Harry to join her on a stream, like a thousand times—but Harry had this way of throwing himself into new situations with such confidence that it was bound to lead to some seriously chaotic results.
But her fans, their fans, had been relentless. Every single time she went live on Twitch, no matter what game she was playing—among us, fortnite, mario world—the chat exploded with one resounding request: Get Harry on the stream!
At first, she’d brush it off with a smile and a laugh, always saying something like, he’s busy in the studio, or, he’s still getting in the hang of gaming, you don’t want to see him struggling on stream, trust me. But by the time December rolled around and the UK was stuck in another lockdown, YN realized she ran out of excuses to give. It was time to bring Harry on camera.
And so, on a cold December evening, she caved.
Harry was sitting in the same room. It was originally supposed to be an office, but since YN’s online career began to take off, it slowly transformed into a streaming room. Three monitors sat on a white desk in front of a large window. The one that sat in the middle showed the view of the stream and chat, while the other two were to be used for whatever.
Harry sat on a small couch in the center of the room, his head against the arm as he lazily scrolled through his phone, completely unaware of the chaos he was about to unleash on the internet. He looked effortlessly perfect, as per usual, in his gray sweats and oversized lavender hoodie, His growing curls were clipped into a tiny bun that sat on top of his head, a pair of brown glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. 
The glow of the computers illuminated the room as she finished up last minute technical checks, string lights twinkling around the edge of the room for a warmer glow. YN adjusted the camera, smiling brightly as the viewers started to pile in, the chat exploding from the sight of Harry in the background. “So,” she began with a giggle, averting her eyes from the screen to her boyfriend that sat comfortably behind her. “y’ready to join us, lovey?”
He looked up from his phone, his features softening as he shut it off. His eyebrows quirked in that familiar way as he chuckled. “Oh, honey.” He sighed playfully as he stood up, ambling over to the spot behind her chair. “I was born ready.”
“Uh-huh.” She laughed, tilting her head backward to catch a glance from underneath him. “Sure you were.”
He placed a quick kiss against her forehead before he sat in the chair beside her, settling in and staring at the center monitor which revealed the chat that moved in an insane quickness. He leaned over toward YN, shoulders barely touching as he waved at her camera with a wide smile.
She snorted, pushing against her boyfriend as she leaned over to point to the other monitor with a smile. “Look, baby.” She said softly, adjusting the camera that belonged to that computer before pulling up the game roblox. She gently explained to him the set up of the stream, informing him that all he had to do was sit in his space and the chat would see him just fine. 
And they would, it took YN over twenty minutes to set the stream up in a split screen sort of way, which would allow the viewers to see both YN and Harry, and their respective screens for gameplay. 
“Oh.” Harry giggled, as he scrolled throughout the roblox website randomly. His gaze shifted between his screen and the center monitor, reading out whatever messages he could since the chat moved so quickly. He scoffed, shaking his head. “How hard can this be? Look at this!” He laughed, nodding toward his screen.
His girlfriend snorted, shaking her head as she pulled up the game dress to impress. “This isn’t grand theft auto or fifa, I don't think you'll magically be good at this.” She grinned as she leaned over again toward Harry, pulling up the same game on his monitor.
“Oh ye of little faith.” He chuckled as he watched the game load in, wiggling his eyebrows at the camera. “I’ve got this.”
harryfan1: OMG ur kidding i literally knew it
ynfan2: no WAY LMFAO
harryfan2: HES ON 
YN couldn’t help but laugh as she read the chat aloud. “You guys are way too excited for this,” she teased. “Harry’s not that big of a deal.” 
He feigned offense as he looked into the camera with his jaw slack, a huff escaping his lips. “Absolutely bonkers.” He laughed breathily, referring to his girlfriend that sat beside him. He let his shoulders falter as he settled in a bit more, a grin spreading across his lips as the neon lobby of dress to impress loaded in.
YN’s eyes flickered between both the camera and Harry as she explained the premise of the game, smiling at his cocky eye rolls and the flood of heart emojis and keysmashes from the chat that seemed to express a collective internet scream.
“Would you like my help?” YN asked, humor lacing her words as she stared at the theme that flashed over the screen, winter wonderland.
Harry cracked his knuckles, tongue in cheek as he shook his head, darting around the game’s lobby in search for the exact outfit he envisioned. 
She laughed at him, quickly putting on a cute outfit with hair and makeup that went along perfectly. Something elegant, a cream colored warmth. Her smile grew as she glanced at the chat, then to Harry’s screen.
user3: whos gonna tell bro
user4: oh honey…
His avatar was dressed in white, baggy jeans with a puffy winter jacket that had a hawaiian pattern on it. Harry could feel her eyes on him as he placed a santa hat on his avatar for the finishing look. The skin tone of the character was still a default gray, completely bald with no face. His smile began to falter as he looked over toward his girlfriend’s screen. “How’d you do that?” He pleaded, his mouth falling into a frown as he watched the timer go down. “I’ve got no face!”
She laughed again as she showed him how to put hair and makeup on, as well as put an actual skin tone on his little avatar. She couldn’t help but ask what the hell he was envisioning for his outfit.
He grinned as he spun his avatar around the lobby. “She’s wishing for Florida.” He said, pointing toward the screen. “She’s dressed in warm clothes but the patterns show she wishes to be elsewhere.”
user5: this guy has got to stick to writing songs
When the voting started, YN’s outfit was praised by the chat and those in the server—many of whom were fans who were able to join the same lobby.
And then came Harry’s turn.
The second his avatar strut down the runway, there was a moment of lag in the chat before it quickly exploded once more. 
“Oi!” Harry exclaimed, pointing at the camera with a snap. “Five stars or m’not releasing the third album.”
YN’s mouth fell agape as she watched Harry place first, watching her boyfriend fold his hands together and shake them in victory as he hummed the tune to as it was. (a tune his fans were completely oblivious to) which only let his smirk grow wider. 
The next theme was royalty, and YN figured this one would be easier for Harry. After all, the man was basically British royalty in his own right. Surely he could nail this one.
But once again, Harry’s choices were questionable, but of course it made complete sense to him in his own mind. 
While YN opted for a pretty gown and tiara, Harry—ever the wildcard—dressed his avatar in what could only be described as a pirate. For royalty.
She stared at his screen, dumbfounded. “H..that’s a pirate.”
“Royalty of the seas, love.” He winked, “captain Styles at your service.”
The chat went ballistic again, loving every second of Harry’s presence on screen.
user6: h pulled out the arrgh 5000s
user7: HARRY PLEASE
They played a few more rounds, with Harry’s outfits growing increasingly outlandish each time, much to the delight of the viewers. The banter between them never let up, and the stream quickly became one of YN’s most popular broadcasts ever.
As the night wore on and the final round came to an end, YN leaned back in her chair, stretching her arms over her head. “You guys are so spoiled.” She grinned in the direction of the camera. “I hope you enjoyed.”
Harry nodded, his smile unwavering. “And what did we learn tonight?”
“That this is why you have stylists?”
He scoffed before he muttered out a no, raising a finger like he was about to make a profound statement. “We learned that I am a roblox fashion icon in the making.” 
She burst out laughing again, and this time, she didn’t stop. Her laughter was infectious, and soon Harry was laughing alongside her, neither of them able to take the game—or themselves—too seriously. 
“Well baby, fashion icon or not.” She said, poking her boyfriend’s cheek gently. “I think we all learned this might not be your true calling.”
He gasped in mock offense, swatting her hand away and clutching his chest dramatically. “Rude. Just y’wait—next time I’ll come prepared. I’ll have a roblox fashion strategy ready t’go.” 
She smirked, titling her head in his direction. “Next time, huh?”
He paused with a smile, considering. “It was a bit of fun, but next time it needs to be guitar hero or something. I’ll wipe the floor with you on that one, gorgeous.” 
The chat immediately lit up again, the fans going wild at the thought of Harry in the streams more often than not, especially if he got to show off his musical side. Some were already throwing out more ideas for the future: 
Play minecraft!
Get this man on the sims! 
Releasing an album simulator (but irl) 
YN smiled again, clearly amused by the flood of suggestions. As the stream began to wind down, she and Harry took a few moments to read some of the comments and thank the viewers for tuning in. They said their goodbyes, waving at the camera and promised to do something like this again soon—though YN wasn’t sure if Harry had fully processed just how much the fans would hold him to that.
As she logged off, Harry stood from the chair and stretched his hand above his head with an exaggerated groan, revealing his belly button and the ferns peeking out from the hem of his sweatpants. She rolled the chair in his direction, resting her head against his waist with a content sigh. “Everyone loves you.”
He smiled, letting his hands fall onto her shoulders and rub them gently. “What can I say?” He hummed, a cocky sarcasm laced in his words. 
“You’re impossible.” She whispered against the wrinkled fabric of his hoodie, though the words held no bite. 
“Oh, please.” He laughed, “You enjoyed it, watching me flounder around.”
She shrugged innocently, tilting her head upward so her chin rested against his abdomen, their gaze fixed onto each other. Her smile was lazy as she parted her lips, “It was funny watching you struggle.” 
His breaths caused her head to jut softly back and forth as she continued to lean against him, his fingers running through her hair as he hummed. “Funny huh?” His tone was gentle, delicate, as his fingers ran down from her hair to caress her cheeks, making her shiver. “Y’think its a game to tease me, hm?”
She felt her pulse quicken, a tension settling around them that replaced the previous banter. “I wasn’t teasing.” She said, her voice softer than before, but the hint of a smile still played on her lips.
Harry took the teeniest step back as his hand fell from her cheek to her chin, gripping it ever so slightly. His thumb brushed against her bottom lip, beckoning her mouth open. “No? Cause you’ve been doing it all night.” His voice was low, authoritative, and sent a rush of heat through her. He tutted toward her as he gazed down at her through his eyelashes, wanting her to part her lips a bit wider. His thumb slips into her mouth, the pad of it pressing down against her tongue.
“I think y’like pushing me.” He murmured, his breaths even and slow as he continued to hold her mouth open–which only allowed it to salivate even more. His eyes flickered from her lips to hers, a smile beginning to play upon his lips.
“What should we do about that, hm?” He cooed as he dragged his thumb away from her tongue, wetting her chin as his hand dropped to the side of her neck. Her own salvia glistened in the warm glow of the fairy lights around the room.
Her breath hitched as he bent at the waist, pressing a kiss onto her lips with his hand still cupping her neck. She melted into it, a heat pooling between her thighs as she felt his tongue against hers. His breath was cool with peppermint, his hair the scent of lavender and vanilla. 
They part slowly, strings of saliva snapping from the mutual disconnect. His bottom lip tucks between his teeth as he reaches him, gripping the back of his hoodie’s collar and pulling it off overhead. His chest rises and falls quicker than before as YN’s fingers lightly trace over the ink of the moth of his abdomen, the wings fluttering with every breath. His hands find hers as he pulls it toward the hem of his sweats. “Now,” He sighs heavily, watching her through half-lidded eyes, “be good f’me.”
She nodded as looped her fingers underneath both his sweats and his boxers, tugging them down in one continuing, slow motion until his cock slaps against the skin underneath his belly button. 
Her eyes find his, to which he grabs her chin once again, jerking it to face upward toward him. He leaned down as her lips parted, kissing her hungrily before pulling her bottom lip down gently. “Open.” He muttered, watching as she held her tongue out for him. She watched as his lips curled before spitting onto her tongue, saliva drooling from his lips to pool onto her tongue. 
She could feel her heartbeat in her core as he straightened back up, especially when he combed his digits through her hair and gripped as he reached the crown of her scalp. With her tongue still out, she neared the head of his cock—slick with precum already and the prettiest shade of pink. She swirled around the slit, watching through her eyelashes as his jaw clenched shut, a heavy exhale falling from his nose.
Her lips formed an ‘o’ as she enveloped the tip completely, closing her eyes as she savored the taste of him. She started off slow as she bobbed up and down his length, closing her inner cheeks around his cock with a hum. “Fuck.” He grunted, tightening his grip on her locks as he bucked his hips slightly. YN wrapped her hand around his length as her lips fell from his tip with a wet pop. She spat onto his cock, stroking him as she dipped her head down toward his balls, lapping and gently sucking the skin there, which had him tilt his head back in pleasure. Veins were more prominent in his neck as he groaned, the coil in his belly tightening. “Such a good girl.” He moaned softly as she wrapped her lips around his cock again, taking him deeper, her throat convulsing around the head that swelled with the threat of release. “Taking daddy’s cock so good.”
She hummed again, the reverberation causing his toes to curl against the carpet. He gathered her hair into a makeshift ponytail in his fist, guiding her movements as moans continued to fall from his lips. She could feel him begin to twitch in her throat as she gagged on his length, his movements sloppy. She could feel his quickened breaths from the way his lower abdomen fluttered against her forehead. “M’close baby–” He grunted, loosening his grip on her hair only slightly. “W-where.?” He choked out in pleasure, his abs rippling and tensing under the glow of the fairy lights, glistening from sweat. 
She only trailed her hands up his bare thighs, gripping his hips as if to keep him in place. She wanted to taste him, to suck him of every drop entirely. 
His cock pulsed against her tongue as he thrusted once more into her throat, shooting white ropes of come into her mouth with a moan. Her head continued to bob as she swirled her tongue around him, licking every drop of his release to the sound of his whimpers–the prettiest sound she’s ever heard. 
He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding as she parts from his cock, placing a few lazy kisses along his navel with a smile. He swallows hard, brushing strands of hair from her face with a lopsided smile. “I could get use to this.” He teases breathlessly, watching as his girlfriend shrugged his pants back up his long legs with a grin. 
She stood from her chair, pulling Harry into a kiss. His tongue brushes past her lips, his knees weak at the taste of himself mingled with her saliva. She hums against him, cupping his cheek as she parts. “Don’t get use to it, pretty boy. You still sucked.”
He laughed, his cheeks flushing a shade of pink as he shot a haphazard wink toward her. “Actually baby, that was all you.”
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ktownshizzle · 25 days ago
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Love & Lullabies | Part 4.5
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✎ ˎˊ˗ Pairing: Min Yoongi x female Reader
✎ ˎˊ˗ Summary: What begins as a simple favor for your best friend Namjoon soon pulls you into the rhythms of Yoongi’s life—afternoons spent caring for his son, late nights filled with candid conversations, and a connection neither of you thought you needed. You’re just fresh out of a long-term relationship with an ex who didn’t want a family with you, so did you really just stumble into a life you’ve always dreamed of? (Thank god Namjoon isn’t the only one who’s clumsy.)
✎ ˎˊ˗ Alternatively: It’s 2025 and BTS is prepping for their comeback. All members seem to have gained muscle weight from their time at camp. But Min Yoongi has gained a different kind of weight—an 8-pound baby and a fuck-load of responsibility. (Thank god you’re there to help him.)
✎ ˎˊ˗ Genre: Fluff, Angst, Smut, idol!au, Acquaintances to Lovers, Reader is Namjoon’s bestie
✎ ˎˊ˗ Warnings: Yoongi is a DILF (!!!) That’s it.
✎ ˎˊ˗ Chapter warnings: porn with some plot kinda, this yoongi is very horny and is a very methodical masturbator (?) in the way he set the mood for himself (could be canon, amirite), let’s fix that boner you left him with, and let’s soothe your weary minds from that Dispatch article, POV switch after the article headline, idk if you know that one video of yoongi in d-day during the piano break in life goes on he does this thing with his tongue… it’s written in here somewhere
✎ ˎˊ˗ Word count: 1.5k
✎ ˎˊ˗ Posting date: December 15, 2024
✎ ˎˊ˗ A/N: Surprise! I kid you not, this was written within a span of like 8 hours? So if it sucks, that’s probably why, lol. Lucky for y’all I am too impatient to wait for notes milestones before I upload the next part, so here you go. 🎁 Also, @glossdebut, you know what you did. Enjoy, my lovelies~ 💕
Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four |  Masterlist
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“Fuck me…” Yoongi sighs, leaning further back into the computer chair. He runs both hands through his hair as the preliminary pinpricks of pleasure makes his cock spring to life under his sweatpants.
His phone is now propped on his half-empty coffee mug, of which the screen—maxed out in its brightness settings—is projecting the photo you sent through its 2x dynamic galaxy amoled display—of which his dick would personally like to thank his Samsung sponsors.
He is so horny he might just die if he doesn’t get off in the next five minutes. 
It’s your fault. Of course, it is.
God you’re so fucking sexy, do you even know that? Do you even realize what you do to him? He is literally about to masturbate in his multi-million won worth studio to the pitiful pixels you have afforded him with.
He stands up, curses you under his breath as he pulls his pants down to pool around his ankles. He drops to his chair, about to slip a clammy hand inside his boxers when he decides to adjust the view juuuust a little, zooming the photo closer…closer…  and that’s it.
Just the view he needs. (Sue him for having astigmatism.)
He grabs the aircon remote and adjusts the temp to a balmy 24 ‘cause it’d be hella annoying if he can’t get hard because his studio is an igloo.
Some velvety track with soft percussions filter out from his speakers.
A pump of lube from his hidden drawer, wet wipes at the ready for the inevitable clean up, and he’s off to the fuckin’ races. 
His fist wraps the base of his cock, coating his entire shaft with the gel. It's cold, but it immediately warms up to his body temperature as his palm slides up and down his semi. 
Greedy eyes rake your body on his phone screen. Your tits. They’re a vision. He can see just the ghost of your nipples, peaking in the slightest way against your silky top and suddenly his mouth is dry. What would they look like if they’re not hiding from him? For sure they’re puffy. Pretty jet-puffed marshmallows that he’s gonna be putting in his mouth and sucking until you’re falling apart and creaming with just that. He smirks. Yeah, he could do that.
He tugs at his cock faster, licking his bottom lip as he imagines the texture of your pebbled nipples against his tongue. He shivers, increasing the pace of his ministrations, cock now fully hard.
Back to the photo.
Huh. You knew what you were doing—squeezing your breast with your hand. The way the mound of flesh is about to spill over, and your areola is just kissing the edge of the fabric is actually killing him. It’s diabolical. Pure torture.
Had you been here, he’s scooping out that breast, the one you’re holding out to him, so it’s hanging generously from your top, wobbling as he bounces you on his fat dick. 
He feels his eyes crossing, caught in the spell of the hypnotic movements playing out in his mind. He moves his hand faster, cock throbbing and aching for release.
But he’s not there yet.
Closing his eyes, Yoongi lets himself sink back into the memory, rewinding the moments from just hours ago. The sensation of your weight against him is the first thing he recalls—the way your ass fits so perfectly in his lap, warm and soft, like you were made to be there. The way your body had melted into his touch, so pliant, so eager, grinding slightly like you were inviting him to ruin you, and he was more than willing to oblige.
Your lips—he can still taste them if he focuses hard enough—sweet, intoxicating, like the lingering memory of his favorite whisky. And your neck, the way it arched so perfectly for him, leaving him no choice but to press his mouth against it, the faint hint of your skin still ghosting on his lips even now.
If he concentrates, he can almost smell you again, that sweet, delicate perfume that drove him insane. It’s like you’ve imprinted yourself on him. Or maybe it’s the faint traces of your scent that linger on his hoodie, the one you pressed yourself into while straddling him and he could feel the perfect ass against his crotch. 
The thought is enough to send his pulse ticking faster, his head leaning back against the chair as a low, frustrated groan escapes him. He needs you. Fervently. Urgently. Needs you like he has never needed another person ever. 
Jaw slack, tongue dangling from the corner of his mouth, he imagines licking your nipples from side to side and his mouth stretches into a smile. He can almost hear you moan oh yoongi and wow what an ego boost to have you unraveling for him when in reality it’s he who is actually unraveling in his own damn hands. His cock is getting heavier, balls tighter at his impending demise. He tugs and tugs, collecting some of the lube that gathered on the base and pushing it back towards his angry tip, concentrating his movements there.
You’re not in the room but you might as well be with the way your name keeps tumbling from his lips. He is whining like a little bitch in heat, but he doesn’t give a shit. He hasn’t had a satisfying jerk-off like this in a while. He can’t even remember sex being this good. Nothing remotely like the way this fog of lust has him ascending to another plane of existence right now, because you’re so fucking sexy and so good to him and he likes you so damn much and suddenly he’s coming, warm spurts of cum oozes from his throbbing cock decorating his fingers like the rings he used to wear to the knuckle, and fuck he’s still going, there’s so much and god dammit his boxers are soaked but it feels phenomenal.
Chest heaving as if he ran a marathon, he stares at his ceiling, waiting for his heart rate to slow down.
Not long after, he laughs at his stupidity, pulling a wipe from the packet and proceeds to clean up. He sobers up from his horny thoughts, but not by a whole lot. Not when the photo that started it all is still bright and beautiful from his phone. Shit. He cannot wait to fuck you for real. 
Little did he know, something was gonna fuck him up come morning.
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AllKpop Scoop:
Confirmed: SUGA of BTS Dating Actress Lee Sung Kyung
Eagle-eyed fans are convinced the duo has been hiding their relationship in plain sight, pointing to their undeniable chemistry during a past Suchwita episode, where sparks were reportedly flying between the two.
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The story was everywhere. News sites, entertainment shows, gossip columns, social media—each one milking it for all it was worth. 
Darling of the press, K-drama royalty, multi-awarded thespian Lee Sung Kyung, had resurfaced from her mysterious hiatus, and of course, the headlines couldn’t resist pairing her name with “infamous idol Min Yoongi.” You roll your eyes so far back your head they almost didn’t come back.
The South Korean media was having an absolute field day.
And as much as it hurt to see it, your first instinct wasn’t to dwell on the sting of the rumors. It was to scan every word, every post, every thread, checking if Haneul had been dragged into the mess.
Thankfully, he hadn’t been. You’d be devastated if your little sarang had been implicated in any of these stories. You don’t know the first thing about how to protect the poor baby from these trolls, but you will be damned if you don’t try.
The photo that sparked the frenzy was everywhere—a shot of Sung Kyung leaving Yoongi’s Hannam apartment. That was it. No Yoongi, no Haneul, not even a hint of context. Never mind that the building housed countless tenants or that there was zero proof they were together. It was enough to send the internet spiraling into speculation.
You were scrolling through the comments under one of the reposts, your stomach churning at the sheer creativity of the assumptions being thrown around, when your screen suddenly switched to an incoming call.
Yoongi.
You didn’t hesitate, swiping to pick up almost immediately.
“Sarang,” he starts, his voice soft and familiar, like he already knows he needs to tread lightly. Bro’s really starting with the buttering up.
“Where’s Han?” Was your first question.
“My parents drove him up to Daegu this morning. It’s better if he’s there for now.”
You let out a heavy sigh, rubbing your temple as you sit back. “Just answer one question, Yoongi: is it true or not?”
“It’s a big fuckin’ lie,” he says without missing a beat, his voice steady and firm. “None of it is true.”
“So it’s all bullshit?”
“YES.” he replies emphatically.
The tension in your shoulders eases slightly, and you exhale, nodding to yourself. This is fine for now. “Okay.”
“Okay?” There’s a note of uncertainty in his voice, like he wasn’t expecting you to let it go so easily.
“Yes. Just get your ass here by 7 and not a minute later.” You say, firm.
A pause. Then, with the faintest hint of a chuckle, he replies, “Yes, ma’am.”
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A/N: So???? I don't know what that first part was. It just took a life of its own. Anyway, as per ush, please let me know what you thought about the chapter. Feedback is always appreciated. Thank you so much for reading this, you lovely, beautiful human xo
See you in the next half! :)
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sanatomis · 9 months ago
Text
⋆.ೃ࿔* ── 𝐃𝐈𝐘-𝐃𝐀𝐃!
it’s career day, and megumi has to bring his dad to school so he can tell the class about his job. the problem? he only has a 20-year-old sorcerer-guardian who has the brain capacity of a walnut.
content. canon divergence (suguru’s alive and studying to be a kindergarten teacher), possible ooc characters, female!reader.
notes. guys i’m a sucker for satoru who really, really tries and isn’t just a goofy man-child ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -。꒱ྀི১ also ! thank you all for your patience, it took me a while to finish this piece bc of uni, so i'm vv happy it's finally done <3
taglist. | masterlist.
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“I don’t have a dad.” 
As cruel as it may be, a part of Megumi hopes that the sentence makes his teacher greatly uncomfortable. Demanding for a father to attend a Career Day at school simply isn’t fair to children without one—or, well, to the child without one. It’s not his fault his father hauled ass and left, so why is she making this so difficult for him? 
“Oh,” she mumbles. It seems his arrow hit the target, as her eyebrows pull together in a frown and she shifts her weight between her feet. “Well, you, uh, have a male guardian, don’t you?”
Megumi grimaces. Instantly, he thinks back to last week. Satoru Gojo, self-proclaimed strongest, had hit his head on a kitchen cabinet. With a dramatic pout and an overexaggerated wobble to his lips, he clung to you for hours. Some affection will make it all better!
Of course, when Megumi criticised his skills surrounding his infinity technique—because, really, how couldn’t it block a simple cabinet—the sorcerer opted to ignore him. He suspects there was some foul play at hand. 
“Barely,” he mutters, as the memory resurfaces. 
His teacher lets out a startled hum. “I’m sorry?”
“Nothing,” Megumi says quickly. He watches as she starts typing on her computer, and the realisation that she’s probably currently taking a look at his file isn’t a particularly welcome one. “What about my other guardian? Can I bring her, instead?”
“This event is geared towards fathers,” she explains. It’s obvious she forgot her reading glasses today, Megumi thinks, as she needs to narrow her eyes to read the screen in front of her. “I have one Satoru Gojo noted down as your male guardian. Surely, he will be able to attend.” 
Megumi pauses. He blinks up at her expressionlessly, and fights off the urge to push his teacher down a well. You often preach about being kind to others, and that wouldn’t be very kind. 
“Can’t I take my oth—”
“I’m afraid not,” she interrupts him before he even gets the sentence out. It irks him. Megumi isn’t fond of speaking to begin with, so when he does, he’d prefer not to be cut off halfway through. “An exception will not be made. Please, make sure to bring Gojo-san to school.” 
Megumi briefly, and for the very first time ever, mourns the fact that you and Satoru weren’t married. A small part of him calls the man a coward for not asking you to. If he’d simply taken the step, then Megumi would be able to pass you off as Gojo-san. Unfortunately, he can’t, and it’s becoming increasingly clear that there’s no way around this problem. 
“Fine,” he grumbles. It takes all of his remaining willpower to not stomp out of the classroom. Once again, he thinks of you. It’d be extremely bad manners. He can’t find it in himself to wish his teacher a nice day this time, though, and so she’ll have to make due with a slightly less polite Megumi for today. 
There’s nothing he can do about it. Satoru will have to come to the school. 
Megumi suddenly despises the idea of Career Day. 
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“I need you to come to my school next week.” 
Immediately, all chatter around the dining table stops. For once, Megumi finds himself annoyed at the sudden appearance of silence. Before he said it, he knew his words would most likely have such an effect—he just didn’t expect it to be so instant. 
He tries his best to feign nonchalance, as if the topic that’s coming up didn’t make him feel stressed-out beyond belief. The confused, startled glances you and Satoru share don’t do much to help him, either. Perhaps it’s because Megumi is looking straight at him; him instead of you. Yeah, Satoru, he isn’t a fan of it, either. 
“Me?” The man asks then, and Megumi has to resist the urge to say, ‘no, I meant the snail in the backyard—yes, you,’ in the most sarcastic voice he can muster up. Satoru once again steals a look at you, ever so oblivious to Megumi's mental remarks. “Don’t you mean—” 
“I don’t,” Megumi cuts him off solemnly. His lips are pursed shut, and he pokes the slices of pork belly in his bowl with his chopsticks. One didn’t need to be of particularly high intelligence to notice the boy’s displeasure.  “I have to bring a male figure for Career Day.” 
It’s slow, the morphing of Satoru’s face, but it happens gradually and doesn’t stop until he’s positively beaming. Megumi doesn’t like it one bit. Nothing good happens when he looks like that, and he’s quite sure that all that will spew out of his mouth in a few seconds will be nothing except for pure nonsense. 
“Well, luckily, I will have the day off, then!” Satoru chimes, with a smile so wide it causes two dimples to appear on his cheeks. You copy his smile, and gently go to poke the little dent in his skin—Satoru lets you, as he always does. Megumi would think of it as cute if he weren’t so annoyed. “I will be there.” 
It seems he was right. Satoru’s words are pure nonsense.
“I didn’t tell you when,” he comments dryly. 
The sorcerer blinks. His smile is still on his face, but it’s fading, and the dimples do so with it. Your hand hovers halfway in the air, stuck with nothing to poke, and you slowly bring it back down to your side. It seems neither of you had taken time to think about that small fact—Megumi blames Satoru for dragging you down with him; him and those indentations in his cheek that you always seem to coo over. 
“Oh,” Satoru mumbles. A crease between his brows forms as his brain hurries to catch up with the newfound information. A few seconds pass, and then the previous bravado returns. “Well, it doesn’t matter! I can take the day off. When do you need me? Tell me, and I’ll be there.” 
Megumi very much doubts he can take days off all willy-nilly like that, especially after he pushed his workload onto someone else to attend his science fair last time, but then again, what does he know? If Satoru didn’t care about the consequences of his actions, then Megumi wasn’t about to break his own head doing so, either. 
“Next Friday,” he mumbles. From the tone of his voice, it’s quite clear that he’d rather be saying anything else. “We have to leave at eight a.m., please, be on time.”
“Sure thing!” Satoru chimes, and with that, Megumi thinks the dreaded conversation has finally come to an end. 
All in all—it could’ve gone worse. At least Satoru didn’t prolong it unnecessarily. Nor did he add a bunch of relentless teasing. He glances at the sorcerer. Satoru is happily munching on the dinner you’d prepared, both his cheeks stuffed full with entirely too much rice. It’s unbecoming, and a reflection of his poor manners, Megumi thinks, and he doesn’t understand how you look at the man with such hearts in your eyes. 
Though, your more than adequate cooking seems to have saved him from one of Satoru’s onslaughts. He’s grateful. Even if he doesn’t particularly enjoy the sight in front of him. 
“Hey, ‘toru?” You ask, breaking the silence with a slight hesitation to your voice. It nearly sounds nervous, and both Megumi and Tsumiki look up in alarm. Satoru hums, still chewing away. “What are you going to tell the class?”
Satoru stops eating. His chewing comes to a halt, and his chopsticks freeze in the air. A slice of pork drops from between them, and falls back into his bowl—It’s not hard to see the cogs turning in his head. “Uhm, I. . .” He swallows the food still in his mouth, and clears his throat. 
Right. It’s Career Day—but Satoru can’t tell a bunch of seven to eight-year-olds that he hunts and kills grimy, ugly, and freakishly scary curses for a living, now, can he? Megumi doesn’t think that would go over well with the other parents. The boy sighs. It’s just one thing after another. He grimly believes the world might just be out to get him. 
“I. . .Oh! I can tell them I’m a teacher,” his guardian scrambles for a solution, and Megumi can’t help but think it’s a little lack-lustre. Who would believe that guy is a teacher, anyway? Then again. . .Megumi doesn’t know a better fix for their current problem, either. He was so focused on the fact that it was Satoru that had to come to the school, he all but forgot about the fact that the dear thorn-in-his-side didn’t possess a normal job. “Suguru has told me a thing or two about his internship. I can take inspiration from there.”
Ah, yes. The famed Suguru Geto. Megumi has met him before. He hasn’t actually spoken to him, however. The man often visits, and has twin girls clinging to him when he does, and while Tsumiki seems to really like him—and them—Megumi doesn’t have an interest in seeking out some form of interaction, yet. Whenever he comes over, Megumi opts to hide in his room. Suguru never tries to disturb him, nor does he try to coax him into coming out. He’s very grateful for it. 
So, despite never speaking to him, Megumi knows about Suguru. Well, he knows enough. He knows Suguru went to school with the two of you, and he knows something really, very bad (nearly) happened that caused the man to take a step back from the world you all live in. What exactly happened (or what didn’t happen), Megumi doesn’t know for sure. You and Satoru almost never speak about it, and when you do, it’s in hushed voices—and you always stop immediately when he enters the room. 
But that’s okay. He doesn’t need to know. Suguru doesn’t force himself upon Megumi, and so he will extend him the same courtesy.  “I thought Geto-san wasn’t a teacher, yet?” Tsumiki speaks up from beside him, tilting her head to the side in confusion. “Mimi and Nana said he’s still learning. How can he be teaching, already?” 
“He’s not a teacher, yet, munchkin, well spotted,” Satoru answers with a proud grin. The nickname annoys Megumi—the feeling of irritation has been conditioned into his very being after Satoru chose it as the designated nickname for both of them. “An internship helps him build experience in the field. It means he is still learning, but he will do so while teaching.”
Tsumiki nods in understanding, her mouth opens and her lips curl into a small ‘ah’ as the information settles in. “So, you will pretend to be a teacher, then? At Megumi’s school?”
Satoru bites on his bottom lip, seemingly deep in thought. Seemingly—as Megumi is quite convinced he doesn’t ever think before he speaks. “I think so, yes,” he explains, and unknowingly retorates Megumi’s train of thoughts. How annoying. Satoru looks towards you for approval; it’s something he does very often. “It’s probably the safest route, no?”
“It’s our best option,” you say, and bring a thumb up to the corner of Satoru’s mouth. Gently, you wipe away a grain of rice stuck to his skin. It’s effortless, and nearly automated. Megumi wonders how many times you’ve had to do that. “Pretending to be a teacher shouldn’t be too difficult a task. Right, mochi?”
“Right,” Satoru echoes. His eyes track your every move, and the slight, pink colouring of his cheeks doesn’t seem to embarrass him even a little bit. Megumi thinks it should. Have some decorum. “I can do it, no problem.” 
“Alright then,” you say, and smile. First at Satoru, and then at Megumi. You look at the boy for a few seconds; you’re about to ask him if he’s okay with it. He knows you are, because you always do. “Is that okay for you, Megumi?” It’s like clockwork, almost. 
Megumi feels the need to answer with something snarky. Something akin to the sound of ‘What choice do I have?’ but he doesn’t—because you’re being kind, and you don’t deserve such a response. So, instead he turns towards Satoru.
“. . .Just don’t mess it up.” 
Satoru delivers a whole spiel about how ‘he’d never do that’ and that he’s ‘more than capable’ of telling a little white lie, but Megumi dilutes it to background noise rather quickly. He continues sputtering his nonsense when Megumi and Tsumiki stand up to clear the table, and still hasn’t stopped even when you and him start loading the dishwasher together—Megumi chooses to seek reprieve in his room while he’s distracted. 
It isn’t until many hours later, when Megumi leaves the sanctuary of his room to swipe a quick snack from the kitchen, that he first hears Satoru speak about something other than his great, and very much sufficient, ‘capabilities’. Your voices are muffled, and Megumi has to focus to make out your words. His soft, inaudible padding down the illuminated hallways comes to a halt. As if that would make his ears function better. 
“Are you sure you want to do this, Satoru?”
The boy frowns. With such gentleness in your voice, it’s hard to identify the worry lingering beneath the surface. Megumi moves a bit closer. He stops one step shy of bumping into the wooden surface, and peeks through the groove. The door is ajar—it’s something that allows him to watch how your eyes follow Satoru’s large frame as he paces around the room. It’s strange. Seeing him so. . .frazzled. 
Satoru nods. “I can do this, I know I can,” he says, and quits his pacing to look at you. Megumi can’t see his face, but he can see yours. He might as well not have, though, as he can’t make out the emotion that fills your eyes. It’s not one he himself has in his repertoire, that he knows for sure. “He never asks me for anything, princess. I have to do this right.” 
Ah, this isn’t a conversation Megumi is meant to hear. He should probably seize his eavesdropping, he thinks, and winces a little when he properly analyses Satoru’s words. They’re truthful. Megumi doesn’t go to him when he needs something. His first thought is to go to you—and his second, Tsumiki. And if he’s being honest anyway, his third thought very likely isn’t Satoru, either; He’d try to solve it on his own if it came down to it. Megumi frowns again. He doesn’t like how that realisation makes him feel. 
A careful shuffle of footsteps breaks him free from his thoughts. Megumi looks up, and catches how you place a hand on Satoru’s cheek. “I’m sure you’ll do great, baby,” you mumble. There’s a small, soft smile on your lips, one that quickly makes way for the peck Satoru places upon them. 
“Thank you,” Satoru whispers. One of his hands reaches for yours, and Megumi suddenly feels as if he’s intruding on something when the man brings them up to his lips to press a tender kiss to them. Okay, no, definitely intruding—ew. 
The boy scrunches his nose up in disgust, and hurriedly darts back towards his room. Suddenly, he has lost his appetite for a late-evening snack. Megumi lets out a deep sigh once he’s all tucked into his sheets again. Perhaps giving Satoru a shot wouldn’t be that big of a problem. Just one, though.
. . .Yeah, just one should be enough.
It’s the final, conclusive thought Megumi has before dozing off to sleep. Blissfully unaware of the conversation you and Satoru share—now behind a very closed door.
You stifle a giggle. The disappearance of Megumi’s presence outside your bedroom was quick and rampant as soon as Satoru started to kiss your hands. Something the sorcerer did very deliberately. It’s as if the boy suddenly forgot about the very special, very effective pair of eyes his guardian possesses. And with a cursed energy output such as Megumi’s, it would be hard not to recognise his presence.
“You did that on purpose,” you comment. “How cruel of you, mochi.”
Satoru hums, and kisses the inside of your wrist. “Maybe, the little brat shouldn’t eavesdrop, then,” he defends himself. There isn’t an inkling of guilt to be seen on his pretty face.
. . .Though, both of you still take some extra care to shut the door next time.
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Megumi faithfully believes that, as of today, he has used-up all of his luck for the next five, no, ten years. It can only go downhill from here. For some inexplicable, mind-boggling reason—Satoru is actually pulling this off. That’s not all; he’s not merely winging it, he’s genuinely doing well. The boy can’t quite believe his eyes.
When he’d walked to the front with such an overexaggerated pep in his step, and an overabundance of bravado rolling off of him in waves—Megumi couldn’t help but watch on with a grim look, and a healthy dose of negative thoughts. It only amplified the nerves he’d collected so far during the walk to school. Somehow, watching Satoru give your flashcards a frantic do-over did very little to ease his bubbling anxiety.
There were many of them, flashcards that is. All possible questions his peers or his teacher could ever think of are written on those little pieces of cardboard. Courtesy of you, and your boyfriend. Megumi’s able to recall all those nights the two of you spend at the kitchen table—practising. He thought it was silly at the time.
But, as it turns out, it works.
Satoru is fun. To other people; Megumi doesn’t share the sentiment. Against all odds, he’s dynamic, and speaks with conviction. His flamboyant hand gestures have others think of them as amusing—captivating, even. Satoru is talking, and they’re all hanging onto his every word. No matter the fact that they’re all cleverly disguised lies.
Megumi can’t wrap his head around it. He doesn’t need to, however. If anything, he’s relieved that his peers think of his guardian as cool. While he certainly does not share the opinion, he isn’t too dense to admit that such a belief will save him a lot of embarrassment in the future. So, for this one, single day, he will let Satoru Gojo be cool. His snarky comments can resume tomorrow.
“Ah, it seems you have a deep love for your profession, Gojo-san,” his teacher says. She interrupts Satoru’s rant, and catches his attention as well as Megumi’s. Her voice is light and airy, and carries nothing that should cause him to fear the worst. Still, the boy feels on edge. “Though, I don’t remember the grade you are teaching. Could you tell us, again?”
Ah, and there it goes. The very first card in the elaborately built castle of lies.
Satoru pauses. A second passes, and then two, and three, and so on. He doesn’t speak for a good thirty, and Megumi can nearly see his mind leaf through his beloved flashcards—flashcards that are now neatly tucked into his pockets and entirely out of reach. That’s good. Because the absolute last thing Satoru should do now, is resort back to the flashcards.
Megumi shakes his head no as a signal.
“Ah,” Satoru says. “I teach kindergarten.”
Satoru didn’t catch the hint. Megumi wishes the ground would swallow him up. It would have been the correct answer—it is the answer that’s written on the flashcards—if Satoru hadn’t decided to go off route. Getting too caught up in the story he’d been free-writing, and allowing himself to get carried away by the looks of awe is resulting in his downfall, which, consecutively, will end with Megumi’s downfall, as well.
“Huh? But! What about the science experiment that exploded?” One of the children in his class whines. “I didn’t get to do that in kindergarten!”
“And the backflip you taught your students!”
“What about the first prize in the talent show? I thought your students were famous!”
The little bit of colour that normally resides in Satoru’s face steadily disappears, and he clenches his fist at his side. Ah, it’s great to know he’s at least aware of his mistake. That won’t help either of them at the moment, though. Megumi’s eyebrows furrow, and a feeling of distress overtakes him. It shows on his face. He doesn’t exactly go through the trouble of trying to hide it—there are bigger problems right now.
How utterly humiliating to be caught lying.
Satoru’s eyes find him. They’re just as troubled as his own. It worsens his anxiety.
“Oh, uhm, you see. . .” Satoru stammers, and Megumi’s stomach churns when the children around them continue to ask more and more questions. The wince his guardian lets out does little to soothe him. Megumi sighs, and looks at the ground. “Ah, I see. It seems you guys saw right through me.”
Megumi slides down in his seat. Maybe, if he tried hard enough, the ground would absorb him. It’s currently looking like a preferable fate.
“. . .I’m actually a detective.”
Oh, Jesus Christ.
“And. . .And for a detective, it’s very important to listen to what people say, because they could be lying!”
It’s a sad, pathetic excuse for a save. Megumi briefly ponders the distance between his seat and the door. Perhaps he could make a run for it. The subway station is very close by—getting on and travelling to an entirely new city to start a new life doesn’t seem like such a bad option. He sighs. No, that’s not possible. You and Tsumiki would be very worried. What else is there to do, though?
“You all picked up on my lie, which tells me every single one of you could make a great detective in the future.”
Megumi thinks Satoru might have some underlying mental problems. Though, they can’t possibly be as severe as the problems his classmates have—for they all believe the nonsense he’s giving them. Bright eyes, filled with hope and admiration, stare up at the man at the front of the class; impressed hums and entertained smiles get passed between the parents standing at the edge of the room. And Satoru, well, he seems entirely too proud of the fact that he made a bunch of children think they’re destined for a career in law enforcement. But, be that as it may, it works.
The children stir up unrest—the good kind this time, the kind that vocalises their excitement—and all rush to ask the detective a question. But, before they can even open their mouths, Satoru claps his hands together. It seems he has decided enough is enough, and it’s one of those very rare moments where Megumi agrees with him. The boy needs this to be over already.
“Alright, that’s it for today,” Satoru says, and feigns disappointment. He pretends to be affected by the sad groans of the children—keyword being pretend, as to the trained eye it’s quite clear that he wishes to leave. “I’m not allowed to tell you more.”
Ah, see, now that’s a good card.
“Wait, but, what about. . .”
“Ah, sorry, that’s confidential. Detective stuff, y’know?”
Confidential. Megumi thinks that might just be his new favourite word. The lingering feeling of anxiety slowly starts to subside with every step Satoru takes towards the back of the room—to the back, and away from the spotlight. His eyes follow the man’s large frame, but Satoru never chooses to look at him in return. His line of sight is firmly focused on the floor. It confuses Megumi, but he chalks it up to a mere whim.
All things considered (and minus the near cardiac arrest he went through), today went pretty well, after all. Much to his surprise.
Perhaps Megumi doesn’t hate Career Day. A strong dislike is more like it.
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Megumi can’t count the times he wished for Satoru to be quiet. The exact number is much like the digits of Pi—huge, and absolutely never-ending. He can, however, count the times he didn’t wish for him to be quiet. As of today, that stands at a very solid one.
The birds around them chirp, and the bustle of other people is heard all around them—but they’re the only sounds gracing his ears. There is none of Satoru’s incessant chatter, nor is there even a glimmer of gloating about a job well-done. It’s eerily silent, and Megumi isn’t sure what to make of it. This isn’t quite how he imagined the walk home to go. Far from it, if he’s being honest.
“What’s up with you?”
It’s possibly the first time Megumi decides to break the silence, ever. The boy frowns, and fiddles with the straps of his backpack. There isn’t a middle-ground with Satoru, he has found out. Either he speaks entirely too much, or unnervingly little. There’s a tiny pebble in his path, and Megumi feels the need to kick it forward—so he does.
“I kind of messed up there, huh?”
The kick doesn’t have nearly enough force to it. Megumi watches as the little rock skips forward. Once, twice, and then it comes to a standstill again. “Yeah, kind of,” he agrees.
“I’m sorry,” Satoru rushes out. It’s said so fast, as if it physically pains him to say it. Perhaps it does. It’s sincere, however. There isn’t even a hint of a joke to be found. Something must be bothering him. “It didn’t go how I wanted it to go, and I don’t know why I went astray, and forgot about the cards. It—well, it was pretty stupid.”
Megumi doesn’t exactly feel the need to deny it.
“So, I get it, okay?” He continues, seeing the boy’s silence as an empty space for more conversation—more rambling. Since that’s what it is; rambles, plain and simple. Megumi doesn’t see the need for such a fuss. “I shouldn’t have strayed from the plan, and. . .”
“It’s fine.”
Satoru blinks at him. “What?”
“I said it’s fine,” Megumi repeats. Because it really is fine. Admittedly, it wasn’t smart of Satoru to all but discard your carefully planned presentation, but it ended well enough regardless. No harm, no foul. “Thank you for coming.”
That small, short sentence is enough to stop Satoru in his tracks. Megumi doesn’t, however. The man is very tall, he’s sure to catch up in a jiffy; he doesn’t need him to wait. There’s another small silence, though this one feels a lot more comfortable than the last. Satoru takes his time to process, and Megumi lets him.
“W—What?” The sorcerer stammers in shock. There is no need for Megumi to turn around and see—he can hear the smile curling onto his lips. “Did you just. . .”
“I won’t say it again,” Megumi grumbles definitively, and picks up his pace. The very tips of his ears heat up, and the apples of his cheeks turn red. The feeling of embarrassment. This wasn’t exactly how he’d envisioned it to appear when the day started.
Satoru attempts to run after him, to catch up. “Megumi!” He calls out, the very prominent, very familiar whiney lilt now back in his voice. Megumi didn’t miss it. “Wait for me, I didn’t hear you! Could you repeat that?”
“Yes, you did!” Megumi says, and throws him an annoyed glance from over his shoulder. He tightens his hold on the straps of his backpack. “Stop lying.”
“Nuh uh!”
“What are you? Six?”
Satoru’s toothy grin is infuriating. But—it’s familiar. And Megumi discovers he’s much more at ease when that grin is on display, than when the man in question is moping around. It’s a lot less alarming.
“And a half,” Satoru adds.
The scowl that’s on Megumi’s face appears almost instantly when he goes to ruffle his hair. For a man whose technique largely surrounds being untouchable, he has a surprising lack of awareness concerning this thing called personal space.
“Ugh,” Megumi groans, and pushes him off. It doesn’t work. Satoru gravitates towards him again—almost as if he’s a magnet. He doesn’t attempt to move a second time. In moments like these, it’s best to let Satoru get it all out of his system. “You’re so stupid.”
It’s true. He does think Satoru is stupid, but he can’t deny it—Satoru tried his very best today, and in the days prior. Which makes him one of the very small, barely existent group of people who have done so for him.
It seems one shot was enough, after all.
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© MADE BY SANATOMIS — please, refrain from stealing, copying, or reposting any of my works.
taglist: @luv-gin @sad-darksoul @parttimep3t @nanuer @bubbletae7 @chilichopsticks @gabirii @nyxlai @rattywatty @chaoticevilbakugo @ploylulla @sugasbrownsuga @littleagxs @m3ow1 @booksarekindaneat @frankenstein852 @bananasquash @jasm-1ne @chicken-fifi @yanelis-world @satory @satoryaa @sasfransisco @faetoraa @softiehee
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xogiulianna · 21 days ago
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THAT'S ALL YOU, BABY
hamzah's too busy to help you out.
"god.." you hear grumbling coming from the corner of your room, where your boyfriend's sat at his desk. "fuckin'.. stupid shit.."
you sit up, your gaze landing on hamzah's face, illuminated by the bright white glow of his computer screen. the clack of keys is loud in the quiet atmosphere of the dark bedroom, and if you squint, you're able to make out the thumbnails of numerous video clips on his screen.
you've been waiting for him to come to bed for hours - you were restless, and you began to toss and turn as he deals with editing a new video, one that he was hell-bent on finishing tonight.
hamzah hears the rustling of the comforter, his head whirling around to see you staring over at him. "shit.." he murmurs. "sorry, baby. i'm almost done, i promise."
"s'fine," you mumble, flinging the sheets to the side, dragging yourself out of bed and walking over to where he's slumped in his desk chair. "what's taking so long?"
"martin," he sighs, sliding his glasses off the bridge of his nose, setting them down before rubbing his temples. "he was supposed to help me out with this, but he's not responding."
"oh," you mutter, peering over his shoulder at the monitor. "you want company?" i ask, my voice low in his ear.
he peers at you, tilting his head back. "sure," he says, somewhat hesitantly, like he's reading your mind - seeing right through you, knowing that you want something.
you grab the armrest of his chair, swiveling it toward you. his eyes meet yours with an accusatory look underneath his dark lashes as you stand over him.
"what?" you ask innocently, a scoff escaping your lips as you slowly place yourself on top of his thigh, your legs folded up on either side of his leg. your body fits against his like a puzzle piece in the cushioned desk chair.
you can sense that he's already onto you, he just knows you that well.
"what're you doin'?" he whispers, resting his hands on top of your thighs, his middle finger tracing small circles against your skin.
"nothin'." you respond simply, reaching behind you to grab his glasses off the desk and slide them back onto his face, quickly kissing him on the cheek. "keep working."
"mm." he hums, obviously not believing you. he turns the chair back toward his desk anyway, scooting in and reaching around your body to keep clicking around the editing program.
you keep still for a few minutes, letting him edit while you cling to him. as you rest your head on his shoulder, you grow more impatient with each passing moment. the close proximity you placed on your bodies only weakens your grasp on your self control.
the truth is - you and hamzah haven't had sex in two weeks. his work stole away entirely too much time, he was constantly filming and working on projects, especially with the upcoming christmas series that he had planned for his channel. you had a job of your own, too, which was an entirely different story.
you two also have been hosting people at your apartment for the holidays. your friends - as well as his - have constantly been visiting and using your home as a place to crash for the night.
between all of this, you didn’t get much time alone with your boyfriend. your schedules just didn’t align, and when they did, you only made plans that involved other people.
point being, you had some pent up feelings, naturally.
suddenly, a groan in your ear sends a cold shiver down your spine, snapping you out of your spaced out mind. you now feel a bruising grip on each side of your waist.
your hips come to a still.
“mph, stop.. doin’ that..” hamzah growls, shifting his leg underneath you, holding you tightly to stop your subconscious grinding.
“shit,” you whisper, your body tensing. “i.. i didn’t even realize..”
hamzah keeps silent for a moment, breathing heavily.
eventually you feel his arm slightly flex as he lifts his hand away from his keyboard, his fingers sliding up your back and threading into your hair.
he tugs on the roots, picking your head up off his shoulder with a little bit of force, making you gasp. “look at me,” he rasps, sounding weak.
you peer down at him nervously, seeing his dark eyes scrutinizing you.
he tightens his hold on your hair as he speaks, “i’m busy.” he states. “but if you’re really that fucking desperate, then you can deal with it yourself.”
your stomach floods with heat at his words.
“what?” you whisper.
“you heard me,” he mutters darkly. “you wanna get off? go ahead, that’s all you, baby.”
“like.. you mean..” your eyes flick down to his thigh, where you’re straddling him.
“mhm, use it.” he says, letting go of your hair, his hand instead cradling your face. brushing his thumb against your bottom lip, he smirks. “do the work by yourself for once.”
you almost wanted to roll your eyes - sure, you could be a bit of a pillow princess sometimes, but that was because hamzah never necessarily wants you to put in an excessive amount of effort during your activities.
he always tells you to ‘just relax’ and ‘let him take care of you’ - so you just sit back and allow him do what he does so well.
he gets off on giving you pleasure. simple as that.
but this time, when he refuses to give you any of that attentiveness, you’re feeling so desperate that you’re actually going to have to listen to what he's telling you.
it’s no use protesting his ask, you know you’re going to give in.
you just can’t help yourself when it comes to him.
“are you serious?” you ask quietly, just to confirm.
“hundred percent,” he replies, dropping his hand from your face, pressing a kiss to your neck as his fingers trail down the sides of your body. “what, d’you think you can’t handle it?”
“no,” you answer immediately. “no.. i can do it.”
“that’s my girl,” he whispers, squeezing your thighs before he reaches around you once more, going back to his work, seemingly without a second thought.
you take this as a sign for permission to do whatever you wanted - whatever you needed. even if he didn’t have the time to pay attention, hamzah still wants you to feel good, no matter how much of a careless exterior he displays.
starting slow, you wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face into the crook of his shoulder as you start rocking your hips slowly against his thigh, the friction of fabric hitting your clit in the most perfect way possible.
but gradually, you get desperate. soft whimpers and moans slip past your lips, your body setting a quicker pace as you ride hamzah’s leg.
it was a little embarrassing, slowly becoming a mess on top of him while he sits and does work, only murmuring a few lazy words of endearment here and there.
your breathing becomes shallow as your arousal builds, your fingers quickly making their way down to tug your sleep shorts and panties to the side, needing to feel more.
your slick soaks the fabric of his sweatpants, fingers digging into his shoulders with frustration as the pace of your hips becomes delayed and erratic.
a low moan rumbles in your throat, your skin burning hot with the frustration of basically knocking yourself out over the pursuit of your own satisfaction - thinking hamzah's not paying attention, but he is.
with each little noise and movement you've made, his work continuously seems to be less and less important to him.
“why’re you slowing down, huh?” he rasps, noticing your vexation.
you can only whine in response, not necessarily wanting to admit that you were getting tired.
“poor thing,” he smirks. “just need me to do everything for you, don’t you?” he teases, taking hold of your waist.
“please,” you sigh sensually, directly into his ear, feeling him slightly shiver underneath you.
it doesn’t take much convincing for him to help you out. you know he wants to, anyways.
he can’t resist you just as much as you can’t resist him.
he keeps his grip steady on you while starting to press your hips down, slightly lifting his leg up into your core - and the immediate increase of pressure has you squirming.
he starts aiding in the guidance of your movements, rocking you back and forth as your body basically melts into him.
“fuckin’ needy girl..” he groans, his jaw clenched. “had to use my thigh to fuck yourself. so desperate.”
all the stimulation on your clit is enough to have you trembling with an building orgasm already, and hamzah can feel it.
“you're close already?” he growls, yanking on your hair again to get your eyes fixated on him.
he relishes in seeing the angelic expression on your face. your parted lips and the blush dusting your cheeks - just the mere sight of you makes him want to give you the world.
his work completely forgotten, he becomes dead set on making you cum on his thigh. “c’mon baby,” he urges, picking up the speed at which he’s rolling your hips. “finish what you started.”
"hamzah.." you cry out in exasperation, your head lolling back. "fuck.. fuck, feels so good."
"i know, angel, i know.." he coos, staring up at you in complete awe as you writhe on top of him. "you're doing so good.. making a mess like this.
you're to the point of no return - your lower stomach feels like it's twisted into a knot. "m'gonna.. oh, shit, hamzah!" you moan, high-pitched and whiny.
"uh-huh, that's it," he groans, hands slipping underneath your shirt, cold fingertips meeting your warm skin as you unravel underneath his touch. "fuckin' dirty, finishing on me so fast."
dizzy with lust, your orgasm courses through you in lengthy waves, practically making you see stars. your head falls forward, your damp forehead pressing against hamzah's, your mind blissfully dropping into pure relaxation.
"oh, my good girl.." hamzah's faint voice penetrates your clouded mind. he brings you down from your high, his thumbs brushing across your tensed abdomen. "so perfect."
your body twitches slightly as you melt against him, breathing in short gasps, trying to piece yourself back together.
"still working..?" you murmur the question teasingly, peeking up at him. you lazily slide your hand up his chest and across his face, your index finger pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose where they'd begun to slip down.
he chuckles, the rumbling in his chest vibrating against you. "no, baby. you're so distracting, y'know that? how would i be able to focus after this?" he says, sliding an arm underneath you and scooping you up. "let's go to bed."
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a/n: please message me with anything you want me to write !! i wanna try and start writing for the sturniolos so if there's anything you want to see i'm open to all ideas
xo giulia
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loveriotss · 5 months ago
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HEY CUTIE ⸻ touya todoroki
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INCLUDES — gn! reader, streamer! au, headcannons, drabbles, smau, fluff, crack, slightly suggestive, around 2k words WARNINGS — dabi and his chat making 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 jokes read at your own risk, also the pink color used for the y/n's username doesn't depict gender or anything i just wanted to use it. TAGS — @bbluefllame, @seneon
main masterlist — mha masterlist ༊*·˚
[ cutiepatootien/n — is your username. i added n/n (nickname) at the end instead of y/n because we gotta be mysterious. you can use whatever you want for your n/n. ]
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streamer! dabi who created his account because toga wanted a partner to play roblox with her on stream.
the chat was buzzing with excitement, a sea of emojis, animated stickers and exclamation points flowing through the live stream. toga himiko, spinning around in her pink gaming chair with her signature grin plastered across her face. she ceased her spinning, banging her palms onto the desk as she leaned into the camera. her hair was styled in her usual wild, chaotic fashion, and her eyes sparkled with a mix of mischief and anticipation.
"hello my lovelies! welcome back to my channel!" she exclaimed, her voice full of energy. "today’s going to be a blast because i’ve got a special guest joining me!"
the chat exploded with curiosity and speculation. who could it be?
toga's grin widened. "presenting my one and only grumpy roommate, who i’ve bribed with a month of doing his chores to do this with me, dabi!”
a wave of hype flooded the chat, and viewers eagerly waited for this ‘dabi’ to make his entrance. the screen flickered for a moment before his webcam feed appeared. he leaned back in his chair, looking relaxed yet slightly bored, a stark contrast to toga’s exuberance. his room was quite dark, the only way you could make out his face was through the glow of his monitors. his dark hair was tousled and his smirk was casual.
itscandy: woah didn’t know your roommate was a hottie 😻 togasgirlfriend: himiko is hotter 🙄 froggypop: why he look suspiciuroisu  himikoshairclip: the editors are gonna have fun with this stream bunnyrabbit: I WANT BOAF ‼️
"hey, everyone," dabi started, his voice deep and slightly scratchy. he gave a lazy wave to the camera. "let’s get this over with."
toga laughed, her eyes twinkling with excitement. "stop trying to be nonchalant, show some energy!” she exclaimed, a bit too close to her mic which made dabi slightly wince and adjust his headphones. “we’re going to have so much fun! today, we’re diving into a horror game on roblox! hope you’re ready to get scared!"
dabi raised an eyebrow. "horror, huh? sounds like it might be a good laugh."
"alright, let’s do this!" toga said, clicking on the game. the screen transitioned to the game’s loading screen, and the chat erupted with a flurry of messages, many were curious about dabi and how he would handle the scares. 
"okay so the goal is to go through as many doors as we can while surviving the monsters," toga explained, her tone taking on a serious note. "stick with me and don’t go running off by yourself."
dabi nodded, his expression shifting into one of mild amusement. "yes ma’am, lead the way."
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streamer! dabi who ended up enjoying the games a lot and decided to start doing some solo streams.
dabi sat in front of his gaming setup, the glow of his computer monitor illuminating his sharp features in the dimly lit room.
he hit the “go live” button and watched as the chat box began to fill with greetings and excited comments from his growing fanbase. dabi’s expression softened, a rare hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. the anticipation in the chat was palpable. he took a moment to compose himself, then looked directly into the camera.
“hey, everyone. dabi here,” he said, his voice a smooth, controlled monotone. “you may know me as the hot and better roommate from toga's roblox stream a few days ago." he leaned back into his chair, tilting his head slightly as he scanned the chat box. "i wanted to do a stream of my own, just for fun. so tonight, I’m diving into one of the scariest horror games out there. don't piss you pants, yeah?”
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streamer! dabi who gained a huge following quite quickly. his name popping up on every platform and eventually, he catches your attention.
"2 am, huh?" dabi says, finally clicking out of the game he had chosen to play for tonight, staring at his small desk clock. it had been over 3 hours since he first started the stream. he stretched his body slightly, slight muscles flexing under the shirt he wore as he leaned closer to the camera, checking himself out. "fuck chat, i can see my roots." he says, ruffling up his hair slightly.
chococat donated $30
back away from the camera youre making me nervous
loverriots donated $15
you look hot either way king
menkisser donated $50
DYE MY HAIR WITH ME STREAM WHEN???
he grinned at the donations, leaning back into his chair and lighting up a cigarette as he scanned the chat box. "maybe i should do one..this white hair makes me feel old."
cutiepatootien/n donated $5
i didn’t know you had dyed hair, it really suits you
dabi's fiery gaze lingered on your donation for a bit too long. he takes a drag from his cigarette before replying. "m'flattered really. interesting name you got there by the way".
cutiepatootien/n: oh my god my friends changed it as a joke but now i can’t reset it 😭
he grinned at your response, leaning closer slightly, his piercings gleaming from the light of his monitor. "i think it suits you, cutie".
dabislefttoe: GAH DAMN juicebox: if i close my eyes i can pretend he’s saying that to me #staydelulu ❤️ ihateorangecandy: n/n won joinmystreamforfreerobux: i was orginally here to promote this bot but heyyy 😻 alphawolf: that’s it im getting you pregnant
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streamer! dabi who's mind lingers on you for too long, even after the stream has ended. he find's himself getting too silly and clicking on your twitch profile.
it's been two hours since dabi clicked on your social links from your twitch profile. he shamelessly scrolled through your instagram and tiktok, scanning each picture and video, carefully making sure he that he doesn't accidentally like anything. he's so engrossed in this that he doesn't even notice when his blonde roommate enters the room and stands behind him, staring at his screen.
"they're cute," toga says, one hand on the arm of his chair while the other one rests on his desk. "yeah.." dabi mindlessly replies before snapping his head to look at her, quickly closing his tabs. "what the fuck toga i told you to knock before coming in" he sneers at her, clearly annoyed.
"oh come on, i would've busted down the door by how loudly i was knocking," she replies, spinning around and slumping herself on his bed "but you were too busy stalking your new crush! who are they by the way? tell me the deets!" she says, excitedly kicking her feet.
"it's none of your business, get lost," he mumbles, grabbing a drink from his mini fridge, snapping it open with his middle finger and taking a sip.
toga skips over to his desk, snagging a drink for herself which earns her a scowl from dabi, before she speaks, "mhm sure! let me know if your loser ass needs some advice."
"get out."
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streamer! dabi who decides to give in to his chat's requests and go live while dyeing his hair.
dabi’s bathroom was lit up by the harsh, overhead fluorescent lights. he was leaning over the sink, one hand gripping a box of black hair dye and the other clutching a pair of disposable gloves. the mirror was fogged up from the hot water he’d run earlier, but the camera in front of him was crystal clear, broadcasting his every move to a growing audience.
“hey degenerates, what's ip?” dabi’s voice crackled with a hint of amusement as he adjusted the camera angle. “welcome to the chaos. you all wanted me to touch up my roots on stream for whatever freaky reason so, here we are—dyeing my hair live.”
he chuckled, the sound mingling with the chatter of his chat. The screen was a whirlwind of comments, emojis, and questions. before he did anything, he looked down at his shirt pondering for a moment. "i should take this off right? don't want it to get stained or anything" he says nonchalantly as he pulls it over his head.
now some might think this was unnecessary, i mean — taking off his black shirt because he was scared it was going to get stained with black dye? it almost seemed like he had done it on purpose..but the chat didn't seem to care.
touyaslefttit: the first thing i look at in a man is his heart. the fact that his tits are in front of his heart is NOT MY FAULT hellokittylvr: GIRL DINNER 😻😻 pookieschmookie: no guillotine could take away the head im about to give him ilovefictionalmen: i wanna take a shower with him I MEAN i wanna keep him as a pet I MEAN loverriots: very demure shigaraki: 🍅🍅🍅
he tossed his shirt aside, constantly eyeing the screen and reading the chat box and donations carefully as he put on his gloves and squeezed dye into a bowl.
cutiepatootien/n donated $10
just opened the stream and the first thing i see is your chest 😓 not complaining tho 🙏🙏
dabi immediately looks down, keeping his eyes on the dye. "i can show you more than my chest cutie" he says boldly, trying to hide the stupid smirk on his face. [a/n: fake nonchalant dreadhead!! i see him chalanting!!]
streamer! dabi who was waiting for you to join his stream.
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streamer! dabi who shamelessly flirts with you on stream, causing many fans to talk about you and try to speculate who this 'cutie' could be.
"so their name is y/n!" toga yells into dabi's ear. she was once again in his room, uninvited, staring at him with sparkly and excited eyes. she had somehow found out your name and was now shoving her phone which had twitter open in his face. the tweets were from his viewers, all about who this 'cutie' could be.
dabi groans. yeah he was the one who drew attention to you but, uh oh! he's now facing the consequences of his own actions as he stares at your account which is now on private. you were smart and new it was best to keep your socials private and out of view from any jealous or crazy fans dabi might have.
"just send them a follow request if you wanna see them so bad!" toga says, getting slightly impatient and snatching dabi's phone out of his hand and speed walking away. "TOGA STOP DON'T TOUCH ANYTHING!" he yells as he chases her. "you're too much of a pussy dabi, you have a crush and you should confess!" she says, tossing the phone back to dabi. he hurriedly grabs it and stares at the screen in shock.
there your account was..now public? no. he was following it.
"you actually sent them a follow request?" he says, glaring at the blonde who just flashes him a cheeky smile. "but they accepted right? shoot your shot!"
"i'm going to kick you out of my house."
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streamer! dabi who spends a lot of time with you floating around in his mind and eventually musters up the courage to text you.
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NOTE — i fear i yapped too much for this one, dabi having a silly internet crush is just so cutesy to me. did you guys notice me and shigaraki sneaking into this fic i thought it was funny. might make this into a series?? idk.
©loveriotss — all rights reserved to me. please don’t try to copy/steal my work. please do not use any of my ideas/translate my work without my permission.
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kimstills · 9 months ago
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some reassurance - aaron hotchner x gn!reader
in which you try to provide aaron with some reassurance after he asks for his worst qualities.
content warnings: a little hotch aftermath of s2e15 (nothing goes into detail), no haley in this story but no real mentions about her, the team is kind of mean, aaron and reader literally flirting even tho reid just got kidnapped not too long ago. word count: 1.5k a/n: inspired by this post by @greg-montgomery ! my man is not a bully <3 also not proofread oops
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he’s a classic narcissist.
he thinks he’s better than everyone else on the team.
what’s my worst quality?
i have no sense of humor.
you don’t trust women as much as men.
you can be a drill sergeant sometimes.
you’re a bully.
you’re sure that if the words of the events from the past 12 hours have been ringing in your head since they first happened, they’re probably ringing in hotch’s head, too.
but you’re also sure that he’s trying to play it as if nothing happened. as if he didn’t get completely verbally obliterated by his team members.
you lost count of how many times you had turned to look at hotch from the moment reid had chosen him to be ‘killed’ after tobias hankel had asked him to pick someone from his team. from the moment you had all figured out where the devolving man was keeping reid.
from the moment you had saved your friend, to the moment the case had been wrapped up, to the moment your boss had just now ordered everyone to take the weekend off right after arriving back to the quantico headquarters, despite immediately locking himself in his office afterwards.
you had contemplated saying anything from when reid had first chosen hotch as hankel’s sacrifice, and you contemplate saying anything now as you stare up at his office, the curtains having been drawn and the door closed ever since coming back, even when everyone else was gathering their things and was about ready to leave.
you didn’t know what it was about hotch or your relationship with him, but you had always found yourself protective of him ever since breaking through the ‘cold’ and ‘stoic’ persona the team had made up for him and crafting a genuine friendship with him.
you had been the first to follow after him when he had left the room with all the computer screens where you and your team had watched reid ‘choose’ him, hot on his heels trying to reassure him that the young genius wasn’t in his right mind.
it had been impossible, though, watching in silent horror and palpable confusion as he asked the rest of his team to list his worst qualities while trying to realize that everything spencer said was on purpose.
what emily had said, you had let slide. she was new to the team, and although you reassured her that all would turn fine in her journey with you and the rest of the bau, you couldn’t deny the lack of trust the others had in her.
derek butted heads with hotch the most and was the most brazen when it came to standing up to him, never afraid to call bullshit even with knowing that hotch was hard on him because he knew of morgan’s potential.
what jj had said, though, you didn’t understand. there had never been a time where you could actively recall hotch being purposefully rude or mean to anyone without it being called for.
he could put people in his place and humble an officer or two when needed, but he had never been mean to you nor to anyone else just because. so, when the words ‘bully’ left jj’s mouth, you couldn’t help but furrow your brows and send a glare her way despite the traumatic events she was still reeling through.
spencer had said himself that he knew hotch would understand, so you could only assume that everyone else had assumed the older man wouldn’t take anything personal, especially after being the one to ask the question.
you had only given his shoulder a squeeze seconds after he ordered everyone to get some rest, offering a comforting smile.
but you knew that wasn’t enough.
so, before you even registered what you were doing, you brush past the startled and confused stares derek and emily give you as you stand abruptly from where you had been perched on your desk and march up the stairs to hotch’s office.
the determination in which you made your way up there contrasted from the gentle knock you raptured on his door, waiting patiently for the deep voice to allow you to enter.
at the sound of his permission, you stepped inside, smiling softly when aaron looks up to glance at you.
he’s standing on the left side of his desk, shuffling papers together and sliding them into a manilla folder. he seems tense, like he finally let himself feel what he was trying to avoid back at hankel’s house, but, solely from the warmth of your smile, his shoulders drop and his body languages is immediately relaxed by your presence.
“i thought i sent you home?” he asks, giving you a knowing look as he stacks the folders neatly on one of the baskets he kept in one of the corners of his desk.
you shake your head no, “not yet,” you close the door behind you gently, catching a peek of morgan and prentiss’ confused stares before turning to look at him.
aaron’s brows furrow at you closing his door, “are you alright?” he asks, stopping in his movements.
you shrug, “as alright as i can be, i guess,” you say, fiddling with your fingers. you feel yourself growing shy under his perplexed stare, but you push it down in order to ask, “are you alright?”
aaron blinks at you, the crease in between his forehead deepening even more, if possible. after a second, you can see the gears winding in his head before it all clicks together, the hardening stare he wore slowly dropping as he realizes what you mean.
“i’m fine.” he says shortly. you know from the many times you’ve accompanied other members of your team to check up on him that they would normally drop the questioning after that, but you weren’t like the rest of them. apparently.
“aaron,” you speak up, his gaze immediately flickering back up to you at your use of his first name, “i don’t think you’re a bully,”
your tone is genuine and comforting and he wants nothing but to completely delve into it. to bury himself in that same comfort and simply stay there as you whisper reassurances.
but the only thing he does in response is shake his head, continuing his maneuvering around his desk as a way to avoid what you were trying to do, “y/n, it’s okay.” he shakes his head, “i didn’t take any of it personally. gideon was right; reid wasn’t in his right mind during then,”
you shrug again, trying your best to get him to look at you without rounding his desk and standing right in front of him, “still. what jj said was pretty uncalled for,”
“well, i was the one who practically called for it,” aaron reminds you, looking up at you through his lashes as he continues to fix files.
you hum. you don’t know if what you’re trying to do is working or not, but you see the harsh lines around his brows soften and a faint pink bloom at his cheeks, one that makes your own face heat up.
“well,” you huff, “i also think that you’re pretty funny.” you shrug again, “really funny, actually.”
everything you’re telling him just now is true, but this is the most honest thing yet. derek, emily, and spencer all had their funny moments, yes, but aaron’s sense of humor was very similar to yours. and, to be fair, it didn’t come out as much due to him sticking to that false persona.
but when it did, you were the first one to understand the joke or the first to laugh and even the one laughing the hardest.
once again, aaron is frozen by your words, this time completely dropping what he was doing to stare you with bewilderment. he raises a brow, “you do?” his question is hesitant, like he doesn’t believe you.
and you know that he doesn’t. so you nod, “yeah,” you smile brightly at him, “you make me laugh a lot. even more than morgan.” this time you’re the one hesitating, taking a moment to wonder if what you’re doing is crossing a line between you and him. “or anyone else, really.” you tilt your head, “you’ve never noticed?”
aaron’s face is now a hot pink, and if it wasn’t for the sake of keeping up with his ‘stern’ facade, you’re sure he’d turn away and envelop his face in his hands.
he’s the one to shrug this time, “well, truth be told, i always get distracted by you.” a beat of silence passes before he clears his throat, averting his eyes to what you think is your shoes, “and your laugh.”
you beam despite the feeling of your face getting even hotter at his confession. you can’t help yourself from asking, “you like my laugh?”
“there’s a lot of things i like about you,” aaron admits, much more confident this time, a fond expression adorning his features.
you blush under his gaze, trying your hardest to conceal the wide smile that was threatening to appear on your face. you rock on your heels, hands folded behind your back shyly, “there’s a lot of things i like about you too, hotch.”
“aaron,” he says, not liking the way ‘hotch’ sounded after hearing you say his first name, “aaron, please,”
this time you can’t help the smile that pulls at your lips.
no, aaron hotchner wasn’t a bully at all.
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goblin-jr · 2 months ago
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And then i go and spoil it all by saying something stupid like i love you. 
Part 6 of 12
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Synopsis: Surfing lessons and more confessions (shocker)
Pairing: unrequited JJ x Reader, Eventual Rafe x Reader
masterlist
—--
Y/N glanced at her phone with a sigh, wondering if it was just another reminder of her complicated feelings. But instead, her screen lit up with a name she hadn’t expected. Rafe Cameron
She frowned at first, thinking it was some weird mistake. Rafe? Why would he be texting her this late? Her finger hovered over the screen, hesitant, before she swiped to open the message. 
Rafe: Midnight drive?
Her brows furrowed. Midnight? Was he serious? Y/N looked at the clock—she wasn’t really tired, but the last thing she expected tonight was an invitation from him. 
Y/N: How did you get my number?
She typed quickly, half-joking, half-curious, but honestly, more interested than she’d like to admit. She almost deleted it, but the words were out before she could stop herself. 
The reply came almost instantly, and she couldn’t help but laugh at his reply.
Rafe: Don’t worry about it.
Y/N rolled her eyes, smiling despite herself. The guy was insufferable, but also oddly charming in a way that caught her off guard. She sat back in her chair, contemplating for a moment. What could it hurt? She was used to hanging out with the Pogues at all hours of the night anyway. This wouldn’t be any different. 
Still, she had to tease him a little.
Y/N: You logged on to the country club’s computer, didn’t you?
She waited, half-expecting him to respond with something smug and condescending. Instead, the reply was simpler. A smiley face emoji with a single word: 
Rafe: Maybe.
Y/N let out a breath, part exasperated, part amused. The fact that he was so cryptic made her want to know more, but she wasn’t about to let him get under her skin so easily. She typed back quickly, deciding to go with it.
Y/N: You’re lucky I’m bored. I’ll meet you out front in 10.
Without waiting for a response, she tossed her phone on her bed and stood up, running her fingers through her hair. She grabbed her jacket from the back of the door and slipped into something comfortable enough to hang out, but still warm enough for a late-night drive.
---
A few minutes later, Y/N was standing outside, the cool night air ruffling her hair. Her heart raced a little—not from nervousness, but from the odd excitement she felt at the thought of going out with Rafe. Maybe it was because she never really got the chance to talk to him in the way she wanted to. Or maybe it was just the spontaneity of it all. 
The headlights of his car cut through the dark before she heard the engine, and Rafe’s sleek black car rolled up to the curb. He leaned over from the driver’s side and rolled down the window, looking effortlessly cool as usual.
“Hop in, princess. You ready for an adventure?” His grin was playful, and Y/N couldn’t help but shake her head in disbelief at his arrogance.
“You really think I’m going to get in that car after you—” Y/N started, but Rafe cut her off with a raised eyebrow.
“I promise I won’t bite,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “Unless you want me to.”
Y/N laughed, shaking her head. She slid into the passenger seat, rolling her eyes as she buckled up. “You’re unbelievable.”
“That’s why you like me.” He winked, his grin still wide. “But seriously, you up for a drive around the island?”
She shrugged, trying to seem casual, though she felt a bit of a flutter in her stomach. “Sure. Why not? What else is there to do around here?”
Rafe nodded approvingly as he shifted the car into gear, and they were off, the soft hum of the engine the only sound for a while.
The drive was slow at first, the cool breeze from the windows mixing with the music playing softly in the background. Y/N looked out the window at the familiar sights of the Outer Banks—everything she’d grown up with, but somehow different tonight. 
“So, what’s the plan?” Y/N asked, trying to ease the silence. “You just wanted to drive around and look at the stars?”
“Nah.” Rafe chuckled, his eyes glinting as he focused on the road. “I thought maybe you could use a little excitement. Besides, I thought you might want to take a break from the whole Pogue routine for a change.”
Y/N raised an eyebrow. “Are you implying the Pogues are boring?”
“Not boring,” he said, his voice turning mock serious. “Just predictable. Plus, it’s nice to hang out with someone who doesn’t have the same baggage as the rest of them.”
Y/N considered this for a moment, then shrugged. “Fair point. But we all have our baggage, don’t we?”
Rafe glanced at her, a flicker of something in his eyes. “True,” he agreed quietly. “But I think you’re a little more... chill about it than the others.”
“Maybe.” She let out a soft laugh, feeling the tension between them lighten just a bit. “I’m just used to it by now. Besides, everyone’s got their own mess to deal with.”
Rafe nodded, his gaze on the road as they sped through the dark, but Y/N could sense that he was thinking about something deeper, something personal. The moment was quiet, comfortable in its own way, until he spoke again, his tone a little more vulnerable this time.
“Do you ever think about what happens after we graduate? What’s next?”
Y/N turned toward him, surprised by the question. It was a conversation she wasn’t prepared to have, but it felt oddly important.
“Yeah,” she said slowly. “I think about it all the time. Like, what’s out there beyond this island? But then I remember that I don’t really know if I’m ready to leave.”
Rafe’s lips quirked into a soft smile, but his eyes were faraway, distant. “I get that. For me, though, it’s... it’s more about living up to what my family expects. You know?”
Y/N nodded, even though she wasn’t sure she understood completely. But she could sense the pressure in his words, the weight of his own struggles. “Yeah,” she said quietly. “I can imagine that.”
The car fell into silence for a while as Rafe focused on the road, and Y/N sat back, thinking about everything he’d just said. For a moment, the world felt smaller, simpler—just the two of them driving through the night, talking about things they didn’t normally share.
The car pulled into a secluded spot near the beach, the wheels crunching softly against the gravel as Rafe parked. For a moment, the only sounds were the hum of the engine winding down and the waves crashing against the shore.
Y/N looked out the window, feeling the familiar pull of the ocean, but also the strange quietness that accompanied being out here at this hour. She wasn’t sure what Rafe had in mind, but she wasn’t complaining. The night felt open, full of possibilities.
“Come on.” Rafe slid out of the car, slamming the door shut behind him, and walked over to the trunk, pulling out two surfboards.
Y/N raised an eyebrow. “What are you, some kind of surfing guru now?” she called out, a teasing smile spreading across her face. 
Rafe turned to face her with a grin, his eyes glinting mischievously in the moonlight. “I’ve been doing this for years. Figured I’d teach you a thing or two.” He tossed one of the boards toward her, and she caught it easily, though the weight of it surprised her a little.
She shot him a skeptical look, but as usual, Rafe wasn’t one to back down from a challenge. 
“JJ tried to teach me when I was younger,” she said, stepping out of the car and slinging the surfboard over her shoulder. “Let’s just say it didn’t go well.”
Rafe’s smirk widened. “What happened? He let you fall off on purpose?”
Y/N rolled her eyes, though she couldn’t help but laugh. “Something like that. He never really took it seriously.”
“Well, I’m serious,” Rafe said, his tone suddenly more intense, though his smile remained. “And maybe you’ll have a better chance with me. Who knows?”
Y/N laughed softly, her thoughts momentarily drifting to JJ and the way things had shifted between them recently. After she left his home the night of Luke’s outburst things went back to normal quickly and that night was never brought up again. The pogues never changed, with Pope worrying about his summer reading and John B disappearing for hours citing a mystery that needs solving as a reason. JJ’s tour guide business was booming and he went back to eyeing Kie at group hangouts. This combination left Y/N wanting to see the group less and less. She shook her head, pushing the thoughts aside for now. 
“So, what’s the plan?” Y/N asked, setting her board down on the sand. “We just gonna swim out and start paddling like a couple of idiots?”
Rafe snorted. “Pretty much. But you’ve gotta get the basics down first, and then we’ll take it from there.”
She turned to face him, eyeing the water in front of them. It looked calm enough, but she knew how deceptive the ocean could be. Still, the thought of being out there with Rafe, even with the awkwardness she sometimes felt around him, was strangely comforting.
They waded into the water, the cold ocean waves crashing around their ankles, and Y/N tried to keep her balance as she adjusted the surfboard beneath her feet. 
“You remember the basics?” Rafe asked, his voice quieter now, as though he was assessing her readiness.
Y/N nodded, though she didn’t feel particularly confident. “I remember enough to fall flat on my face.”
Rafe chuckled, stepping up beside her. “Don’t worry. I’ll catch you if you fall.”
There was something in his voice that made her look at him, really look at him, for the first time in a while. His demeanor wasn’t just cocky—it was calm, almost protective. And for a moment, Y/N felt the weight of the night and the change in their relationship.
“I’m not a total beginner, you know,” she said, trying to hide the sudden feeling of vulnerability. “I’ll probably wipe out once or twice, but I’ll figure it out.”
Rafe shot her a sidelong glance. “I’m not worried. You’ve got a good attitude. You’ll get it.”
He stood beside her, both of them paddling out toward the deeper water. The quiet was nice, just the sound of their boards slicing through the water and the rhythmic rush of the ocean around them. 
As they reached the spot where the waves began to form, Rafe turned to her, his expression serious. “Okay, Y/N. I’m gonna have you paddle and pop up at the same time. It’s all about timing.” 
Y/N nodded, already feeling a little nervous. She wasn’t sure what to expect, but she trusted Rafe, even if she didn’t fully understand why. She had a feeling he was trying to teach her more than just surfing. But she wasn’t going to think too hard about that right now.
“Ready?” Rafe asked, his gaze meeting hers. There was something reassuring in his eyes, though it was quickly masked by his usual cocky grin. 
“Yeah,” she said, nodding again. “Let’s do it.”
He paddled toward the first incoming wave, signaling her to follow suit. The water seemed to move with a kind of rhythm, and for a moment, Y/N felt herself getting caught up in it, the tension in her body releasing as she focused on the task at hand. The world outside of them—the drama, the confusion with JJ, everything—seemed to blur. All that mattered was the wave in front of her.
“Don’t forget the pop-up!” Rafe’s voice cut through the night, just as she felt the first wave start to pull her forward. She barely managed to push herself up onto the board, her body feeling stiff as she tried to find her balance. 
For a second, she was standing, and she thought maybe this was going to work. But just as quickly, she lost her balance and crashed down into the water with a loud splash.
She resurfaced, laughing at herself. “Well, that didn’t work.”
Rafe was already paddling back toward her, grinning. “Don’t worry, that’s the first try. You’re getting the hang of it.”
Y/N wiped water from her eyes, giving him an exaggerated roll of her eyes. “If you say so. You should’ve seen the way JJ taught me. At least I’m not face planting into the sand.”
Rafe laughed, his voice warmer than she expected. “Hey, you’re doing better than I thought you would.”
Y/N smiled, feeling more at ease than she had in a while. For the first time in what felt like forever, she wasn’t caught up in her head about JJ or the others. She was just... here, with Rafe. 
They tried again, and though Y/N wiped out once more, the sense of accomplishment from even attempting it felt good. Rafe stayed close, offering tips and words of encouragement that felt different from what she’d gotten in the past.
“Want to try again?” he asked, his voice softer this time, more serious than before. There was something in the way he looked at her, something almost protective, like he wanted her to succeed, not just because of surfing, but because he genuinely cared.
Y/N nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. “Yeah. Let’s go.”
They spent the next hour on the water, laughing, talking, and occasionally falling, but each time, she felt herself getting a little better, a little more comfortable. Rafe didn’t push too hard, but he kept her focused, making sure she understood the mechanics of it.
By the time they made their way back to the beach, Y/N felt like she’d learned something more than just surfing. Maybe it was the way Rafe had opened up, or maybe it was the shared experience of being out there at night, away from everything. Either way, she knew that things were changing between them.
And though she didn’t realize it yet, Rafe was beginning to feel something too. But that was a thought he wasn’t ready to confront—at least not tonight.
---
Y/N flopped down onto the sand, stretching out her legs and feeling the coolness of the sand seep through her damp clothes. She let out a contented sigh, her heart still racing from the thrill of the waves. Rafe dropped down beside her with a light thud, wiping his wet hair out of his eyes.
“Okay, not gonna lie, I was expecting a lot more flailing,” Rafe teased, leaning back on his elbows and looking over at her. “I’m impressed. You only wiped out... what, three times?”
Y/N shot him a playful glare. “Excuse me? It was four. I’m counting the time I almost stayed on, but then I hit that stupid wave and face-planted.”
Rafe chuckled, his usual confident grin slipping into something more genuine. “Well, in that case, you deserve an award for ‘Most Improved.’ From barely standing to almost staying on? That’s basically a pro.”
Y/N rolled her eyes, but her smile betrayed her. “Oh, sure. ‘Most Improved.’ What’s next? ‘Most Likely to Get Pushed into the Water by Rafe?’”
“Now that would be an award you’d win,” Rafe quipped, his grin widening. “But you have to admit, you’ve come a long way from your first wave.”
Y/N groaned at the memory. “Ugh, don’t remind me. JJ was a terrible teacher. It was just ‘don’t fall,’ ‘good luck,’ and ‘try not to drown.’ He might as well have handed me a board and told me to figure it out myself.”
Rafe let out a soft laugh, but his eyes softened a little. “Well, you didn’t drown. That’s something. You might’ve had a few wipeouts, but hey, that’s surfing.”
Y/N gave him a sidelong glance. “You say that like you didn’t totally bail on that last wave too.”
He raised his hands in mock defense. “Hey, that was just an elaborate move to give you more space to shine. Didn’t want to make it too obvious I was carrying you through the session.”
Y/N snorted. “Oh, so now I’m ‘shining,’ huh? I thought I was the one struggling to stay upright.”
Rafe’s grin was playful, teasing her. “Well, you were struggling. But I like to think I was a good influence on your, uh, form. You should be thanking me.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Y/N said with a roll of her eyes, though her voice was warm. “I’ll put it on my ‘thank you’ list. Right after thanking JJ for almost making me break my neck out there.”
“See? If you’d just let me teach you from the start, you wouldn’t have needed to almost break anything,” Rafe shot back with a raised eyebrow, a little spark of humor in his eyes. “We could’ve avoided all the drama.”
Y/N laughed, the sound light and carefree. “Sure, next time I’ll take you up on that offer. But for now, let’s just pretend you didn’t totally bail in front of me.”
“Only because I didn’t want to make you feel bad about your wipeouts,” Rafe said with a smirk, nudging her with his shoulder. “You know, being a good friend and all.”
Y/N scoffed, nudging him back. “Uh-huh. Sure, let’s stick with that story. So, what else do you teach, besides making excuses for bad surfing?”
Rafe’s eyes flickered with amusement, but then, for a moment, his expression softened. He leaned back, staring out at the water, his tone shifting slightly.
“Honestly, I didn’t expect to be out here tonight. It feels good, though... getting away from everything.”
Y/N noticed the change in his voice but didn’t push it. Instead, she gave him a teasing grin. “What, the great expectations of your perfect life getting to you?”
He shot her a quick glance, a mix of amusement and something else she couldn’t quite place. “Something like that. It’s just... a lot. You know, with grade 12 and all that comes with it. I can’t even think straight sometimes. University stuff, family, the whole ‘do everything perfectly’ thing.”
Y/N raised an eyebrow. “I thought you had it all figured out. You’re the guy everyone looks up to, right?”
Rafe scoffed lightly. “Yeah, right. I’m just really good at pretending I have it together.”
“Seems to be working for you,” Y/N said with a grin, nudging him again. “You’ve got that ‘I’m a cool, chill guy who doesn’t care about anything’ vibe down.”
He laughed at that, but it was quieter, less confident than usual. “Guess I’m really good at that too. But... the truth is, I don’t feel that way a lot. Like, I feel like everyone’s counting on me to know what comes next, and I don’t.”
Y/N paused, her playful grin faltering for a moment. “You mean... your family’s putting pressure on you?”
Rafe’s gaze flickered to the horizon, his expression distant for a moment. “Yeah. They have their whole life planned out for me. The best schools, the right job, the perfect future. It’s like... I’m supposed to fit into this box they’ve already decided for me, and I’m not even sure it’s the one I want.”
Y/N shifted, sitting up straighter as she looked at him, her teasing smile fading into something more thoughtful. “That’s... a lot to deal with,” she said quietly, her voice softening. “I mean, I get it. Parents want the best for you, but they don’t always get to decide what’s best for you, you know?”
Rafe gave her a dry laugh, glancing sideways at her. “Yeah, that’s the problem. I don’t know what I want. It’s like, the more I think about it, the more it feels like I’m just... following a script. I don’t even know who I am outside of what they expect from me.”
Y/N studied him for a moment, her eyes narrowing in thought before she gave him a gentle, almost teasing smile. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I don’t know what I want either. I think the whole world’s just kind of... winging it, you know? Maybe that’s the point. Not everything needs to be figured out right now.”
Rafe raised an eyebrow, surprised by her response. “You don’t know either?”
She shrugged, a little smile playing on her lips. “I’m not pretending to have it all together. Who does? I’m just... trying to figure it out day by day. And honestly, I think you’ll get there. I mean, yeah, your family’s expectations suck, but they don’t have to define what you’re capable of. If you want to follow your own path, you can.”
He looked at her with a slightly skeptical look, then shook his head. “It’s not that simple.”
Y/N leaned back on her elbows, looking out at the waves, her voice more serious now. “No, it’s not. But that doesn’t mean it’s impossible. You’re not stuck with whatever they decide for you. You’re still young, you still have time to figure out who you are and what you want. It might take a while, and that’s okay.”
Rafe absorbed her words, his gaze still distant but a little less guarded now. “Yeah... I guess you're right. It's just hard to shake that feeling, like I'm already behind, you know? Like everyone else has it figured out.”
Y/N gave him a wry smile, nudging him with her foot. “You’re not behind. You’re just... not living in anyone else’s idea of what your life should be. That’s actually pretty damn impressive.”
Rafe snorted, the corners of his mouth lifting slightly in a half-smile. “Impressive, huh?”
“Yeah. Seriously. Not everyone can walk away from a path that’s already paved for them. Takes guts,” she said with a grin. “And maybe the fact that you’re thinking about it at all means you’re already ahead of the game. Everyone else is just... stuck in their little boxes.”
Rafe let out a long breath, a small smile tugging at his lips. “You’re way more insightful than I give you credit for.”
Y/N shrugged, still smirking. “It’s what I do. But, seriously, Rafe... don’t let anyone else decide for you. If you need to figure it out on your own, take the time. You’re allowed to take the time.”
He looked at her for a moment, clearly processing her words. “Thanks, Y/N. I needed to hear that.”
Y/N smiled back, her voice softening again. “Anytime. You’re not alone in this, okay?”
Rafe nodded, his shoulders relaxing a little. “I appreciate it. More than you know.”
She leaned back, turning her attention back to the ocean. “Well, if you’re ever in doubt, just remember: I’m always around to tell you how awesome you are... even if you do try to bail on waves every now and then.”
Rafe laughed, shaking his head. “Okay, now we’re back to you being a smartass. Much better.”
Y/N grinned, glad to see him lightening up again. “Hey, someone’s got to keep you in check.”
—-
A few days later, y/n found herself in the usual chaos of the Pogues. They gathered in the backyard of the Chateau, the soft hum of late-night music mixing with the sound of laughter and bickering for the first time since the bonfire. Everyone seemed to be in their element—JJ and Pope were in the middle of some heated debate about which local spot had the best surf conditions, Kie was perched on the porch railing, her legs swinging as she poked fun at them, and John B was sprawled across a lounge chair, half asleep, a grin on his face.
It was the same scene as any other night.
Except, for Y/N, it felt different tonight. She felt a strange detachment, like she was watching from the outside, looking in. Sure, she was there with them, part of the group, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that she didn’t belong. The conversations felt more distant, the jokes falling flat in her mind. She realized, with a sharp pang in her chest, how much things had shifted.
There was a time when she could dive into the banter, effortlessly teasing JJ or playfully arguing with Pope about anything. But now? She felt like an intruder. She couldn’t even remember the last time JJ had cracked a joke at her expense or dragged her into one of his pointless arguments. Instead, he was laughing with Kie, his attention entirely elsewhere.
The emptiness she felt was palpable. She hadn’t been able to talk to him properly in weeks, not since everything had gotten so complicated between them. And now, when they were together, it felt as though they were both just pretending. Pretending to be okay, pretending to be friends, pretending that things weren’t hanging in the air like an unspoken truth.
The warmth of the fire pit did little to ease her discomfort as she scanned the group. They all seemed so... effortless. So natural with each other. She used to feel like she was part of that flow. But now, more than ever, Y/N felt like a ghost in the background.
She found herself looking for a way out, a way to get some space from the group, but before she could move, JJ caught her eye. He was laughing about something Pope had said, his gaze meeting hers briefly before his expression faltered. He didn’t smile at her, didn’t make a sarcastic remark like he usually would. He just... looked away.
That was it. That small action sent a wave of frustration crashing over Y/N. He hadn’t even tried to make her feel like she was still there, still part of their tight-knit group. He’d been avoiding her, sure, but now it felt like he wasn’t even trying anymore.
“Everything okay?” Kie asked softly from beside her, breaking her train of thought. She had a way of reading Y/N, always able to tell when something was off.
Y/N forced a smile, but it felt weak. “Yeah, just... tired,” she said, but Kie wasn’t fooled.
“You sure?” she pressed, eyes narrowing with concern.
“I’m fine,” Y/N replied quickly, but her voice lacked the conviction she had hoped it would carry. She just didn’t know how to explain it, not without diving into a conversation that she wasn’t sure she was ready to have yet.
Kie, still watching her with a skeptical look, didn’t press further, but Y/N could feel the unspoken question between them. Was it about JJ? Was it about the way he’d been pulling away from her? Or was it about something deeper that even she didn’t want to admit to herself?
The moment stretched too long, and Y/N, desperate to break the silence, stood up abruptly, brushing the dirt off her jeans. “I’m gonna go get some fresh air,” she muttered, before walking away without waiting for a response.
The air by the dock was cooler, a sharp contrast to the heat of the fire pit. She walked aimlessly around the yard, her thoughts spinning in a whirlwind. It felt like everything was unraveling, and she had no control over any of it.
Before she knew it, JJ was behind her, his footsteps quick and urgent as he caught up. “Hey,” he said softly, the warmth of his voice a stark contrast to the tension she felt. “You good?”
Y/N turned to face him, her eyes narrowing. She wanted to tell him everything, to scream and throw all her emotions at him, but instead, she held back. She didn’t want to be the one to make the first move, not anymore.
“I’m fine,” she said again, but this time, her words felt hollow.
JJ didn’t buy it. “You’re not fine, Y/N. What’s going on?”
Y/N wanted to ignore him, to walk away, but the words had already started spilling out before she could stop them. “What’s going on? Really, JJ? You’ve barely spoken to me in weeks. You’ve been so distant. I feel like I don’t even exist to you anymore.”
He flinched at her words, his brow furrowing in confusion. “What are you talking about? We’ve been hanging out. We’re all good, right?”
“Are we?” Y/N shot back, the hurt bleeding into her voice. “Because it sure as hell doesn’t feel that way. We went from spending every minute together to barely seeing each other. You don’t even try to talk to me anymore, and when you do, it’s like you’re doing it out of obligation.”
JJ’s expression flickered, his jaw tightening as he stepped closer to her. He had a way of getting in her space, of making her feel like his presence was a force she couldn’t escape, even when she wanted to.
“You think I’m doing this on purpose? You think I want things to be like this?” His voice was quieter now, but there was an edge to it, a mix of frustration and guilt.
Y/N shook her head, her chest tightening with every word she spoke. “I don’t know, JJ. I don’t know what you want from me anymore. You’ve got this whole life that’s just... different from mine, and you’re pushing me out. You don’t get it.”
For a moment, JJ just stood there, his eyes scanning her face, as if trying to figure out what she meant. “So, what? You’re mad at me because I’ve been focused on other things?”
Y/N’s frustration boiled over. “I’m not mad, JJ. I’m just... tired. Tired of trying to hold onto something that isn’t there anymore.”
The silence stretched out between them. JJ opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, Y/N blurted out the words she’d been holding back for far too long.
“I love you, okay? I love you, and it’s breaking me that you can’t see me anymore. I used to be your best friend, JJ. But now? I’m just someone you pass by when it’s convenient.”
The confession hung in the air, heavy and raw. For a moment, JJ didn’t move, didn’t speak. He just stared at her, his face a mixture of surprise and something else—something she couldn’t name.
And then, without a word, he stepped forward, his hand reaching out, fingers brushing against her arm, pulling her gently toward him. She could feel his breath against her skin, his body close enough that it should have felt comforting, but instead, it felt like an intrusion.
His lips hovered near hers, but there was no fire in his touch. No spark of longing. Just... guilt. Obligation.
Y/N pulled away quickly, her heart racing. “Don’t,” she whispered fiercely, her voice trembling. “Don’t do that. Don’t kiss me because you feel sorry for me.”
JJ’s eyes hardened, his jaw clenching as he stepped back. “You think I’m just pitying you?” he spat, his anger simmering beneath the surface. “You think I’m that much of an asshole?”
“I don’t know what you are anymore,” Y/N said, her voice thick with emotion. “I’m done trying to make sense of this. You don’t get to just kiss me when you feel like it and then ignore me when it’s convenient. I deserve more than that, JJ.”
He took a step back, his face dark with fury. “You’re unbelievable, Y/N. I don’t know what you want from me, but I’m done with this.”
Y/N stood there, chest heaving, as JJ stormed off, his steps heavy against the grass. The door slammed behind him, leaving Y/N standing alone, her words still echoing in the silence.
She had said it. She had finally said it. And now, there was nothing left to do but walk away.
---
Next up: the scene that inspired this fic
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Taglist:
@hockeybabe87 , @idiotussupremus , @certifiedhaters , @oatmealisweird, @sluggmuffin
----
A/N: I wrote this chapter last night at 2 then woke up and read through it with the shocked pikachu face
239 notes · View notes
muniimyg · 22 days ago
Text
𐙚₊˚⊹ bbydaddy!yoongi (11) ⋆𐙚₊˚⊹ *nsfw*
series m.list // taglist closed
note: the slight angst in ch 10 was a set up for all the fluff, smut, and happiness in this ch !!! HEHEHEHE enj !!! pls lmk ur thots ,, ik i ditched this story for a bit so pls talk to me yall 🥲
warnings: making out, yoongi’s dick is big, oc’s tits are big, yoongi eats her out,, they fuck side to side/behind idk,, missionary, dirty talk, and creampie
//
it’s 10AM and you haven’t texted or called yoongi. 
although, he should have seen this coming. you had left all his messages unread last night and he didn’t want to push his luck any further by annoying you now (the following morning)...
but it’s difficult as fuck. 
he has never felt this way about anyone before. 
he has never wanted to fix anything so fast. he has never wanted to pick someone up so early. he has never wanted to be with someone so bad at night. 
it ached, honestly. 
… when you said you didn’t want to talk.
what the fuck did that even mean? if anything, he should be the only person in the world you talk to. instead, he’s the only person in the world you’re ignoring right now. 
so, yoongi sits in his office. 
slumped at his desk with the hum of his computer and the faint clock ticking. his eyes skim over the files on his screen, but he isn’t really reading. if anything, he’s just blinking. every few minutes, he glances at his phone, the unanswered silence gnawing at him.
he exhales slowly, leaning back in his chair, fingers brushing over his jaw as his thoughts spiral.
you didn’t want to talk to him last night.
he doesn’t get it—doesn’t know if he’s pushing too hard, or if he’s just not getting through. you two were just fine the other day. great, even… so what gives? what shifted? what changed? was it jungkook? 
are you actually into jungkook?
is that it? 
before his thoughts flood in and make his anxiety grow, yoongi grabs his phone, his thumb hovering over your contact.
then, he thinks…
fuck it.
yoongi hits call and presses the phone to his ear, the dial tone humming in his chest. by the third ring, yoongi’s heart begins to beat faster and faster. as he’s about to put his phone down and end the call—
his door creaks open.
yoongi hisses from the surprise as his head snaps towards the door. before he can grumpily kick whoever is barging into his office out—his gaze softens at the sight of you.
suddenly, you step in. 
you move towards him, looking a little unsure. there’s a box of tangerines cradled in your hands and the sound of your phone buzzing in your purse fills the room. 
yoongi immediately hangs up, lowering his phone. he blinks, surprised, then pushes himself to stand.
“hey.” his voice is soft, warm, like you’re something he doesn’t want to scare off. 
“hi.”
your gaze flickers toward him before settling on the tangerines in your hands. you pick up your pace and stand in front of him, his desk separating you two. without hesitation, you extend the box of tangerines towards him. yoongi’s hands brush yours as he takes it, lingering just a little longer than necessary. 
“you shouldn’t be carrying anything heavy.”
“it’s not heavy,” you say, shrugging as you slip your purse off your shoulder.
“get jungkook to carry them in next time—here—have a seat, please.” yoongi gestures to the chair by his desk, guiding you down with a quiet insistence. he sets the box of tangerines beside him on the desk and leans against the edge, close enough to reach for you. 
he wants to.
so bad. 
so fucking bad. 
… but he doesn’t. 
instead, he stays still, hands braced on the desk, holding himself back.
the silence sits between you for a moment.
a little awkward, a little heavy. 
but finally, you speak.
“i’m sorry about last night,” you say softly, looking down at your hands in your lap. “i should’ve… i should’ve been better to you. i was really tired, yes… but i shouldn’t have left things like that. let’s blame half of it on my pregancy harmones, but let’s also blame the other half on me. i should have communicated better and i should have come home. i didn’t mean to worry you or make you feel like… whatever you felt last night… if we’re on the same page about everything, i’m assuming that we both felt—”
“like shit last night?”
“like shit.”
yoongi tilts his head slightly, his eyes softening as he watches you. “___, you don’t have to—”
“i came by your place,” you interrupt, your voice quiet.
“our place,” he corrects gently.
you pause, the words sinking in before you nod. 
“our place.” 
you glance up at him, and there’s a small smile on your lips, like you’re testing the words.
“i didn’t sleep well last night and i don’t understand why… or how… how i’ve been falling asleep without you by my side. so, i hurried over to our place but you already left for work… i spent the entire morning waiting for grocery stores to open so i could bring you these—” you gesture to the tangerines, a little sheepish. “peace offering? apology gift? please-be-my-baby’s-daddy bribery?”
yoongi blinks, caught off guard, and then—he laughs. 
it’s soft at first, but it bubbles up, warm and genuine, breaking the tension in the room.
you smile at him, a real one this time, and the corners of his mouth curve up in response. the air feels lighter somehow.
“baby daddy bribery?” he echoes, shaking his head, his laugh still lingering in his chest. “you’re unbelievable.”
“why? cos it’s working?” you tease, tilting your head as you look at him.
yoongi exhales, his shoulders easing as the smile lingers on his lips. 
“you don’t need to bribe me,” he says softly, his voice steady, sincere. “you just… you just need to talk to me.”
your expression falters slightly, your fingers fidgeting with the hem of your sleeve.
“i know.”
he sees it, and for a moment, he wants to pull you in—wants to wrap his arms around you and hold you close, to kiss your forehead and tell you it’s okay. wants to tell you that you’re forgiven before you even ask for forgiveness. 
but he doesn’t. 
he stays still, waiting, letting you give as much as you’re ready to.
he prepares for the wait and for the lingering ache. he braces himself but instead—
you reach for him.
you reach for him and suddenly all his walls come crumbling down. like all the pride and courage he gathered to save face mean nothing when it comes to you and the way you captivate him. he gives in. he gives in so fucking much.
your hand finds his wrist, curling lightly around it, and his chest tightens.
“i’m sorry,” you whisper, and yoongi exhales, the sound soft and heavy all at once. “i was imature and i could’ve handled the situation better. i should’ve talked to you. i should’ve called. we’re in this together and i left you alone last night. i will never do that agian. i promise, yoongi. i’m really really sorry—”
“it’s okay,” he murmurs, his voice gentle. “stop apologizing now.”
he turns his hand under yours, his thumb brushing over your knuckles, grounding you both in the quiet. before you know it, he’s tugging them to his lips. as he kisses your knuckles, your eyes water. 
you can’t help it. 
neither can yoongi because finally, he reaches for you. yoongi cups your face, dips his head low, and kisses you.
against your lips, he murmurs; ”did you build ikea furniture with jungkook?”
“no.”
“good,” he smiles. “i would’ve been mad at you.”
“mad at me or jealous over him?”
yoongi pulls away. “me? jealous?”
you throw your head back and scoff at him. he chuckles and quickly shifts himself back, close to you. 
“you noticed?” he tilts his head. 
“no,” you squint at him. “not at all.”
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the box of tangerines sits between you as yoongi works, the soft sound of typing filling the office. you’re perched on the small couch in the corner, one hand resting on the curve of your belly, the other scrolling lazily through your phone.
“it’s quiet today,” you say, breaking the silence, your tone light.
yoongi hums, eyes still fixed on the screen as he types in steady, practiced motions.
“mm, i got through a few patient phone calls in the evening yesterday… just going through files and notes today. paperwork stuff.”
“maybe your patients are avoiding you,” you tease. “you know? since your resting face isn’t exactly inviting.”
he glances at you, a soft scoff escaping him. 
“it’s called being focused.”
you smile, the corners of your mouth quirking up, and yoongi catches it—he always does. his gaze lingers for just a beat longer before he shakes his head and turns back to his work, the faintest ghost of a smile playing on his lips.
you let the quiet stretch again, content to watch him as you absentmindedly trace little circles over your stomach.
after a while, the stillness in the office makes you restless. 
“i’m going to walk around. check on the others.”
“okay. can you check on jimin, tae, and jungkook? they’re a little quiet today. usually means they’re up to something,” yoongi says without looking up, but there’s no real warning in his tone. “... if they are; don’t join them.”
you stand with a small groan, pressing a hand to your lower back as you stretch. “me? never.”
he watches as you leave, one hand on the doorframe for balance, and his eyes soften when the door clicks shut behind you.
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an hour later, you’re back in yoongi’s office, settling onto the couch again with a triumphant little huff.
“did you make your rounds?” yoongi asks, closing the file on his desk and turning toward you.
“mhmm,” you hum, reaching for the box of tangerines. “jin was chill. namjoon and i talked about what bag he should buy hyemi for their anniversary. jimin and taehyung were running lab tests… jungkook was complaining about his protein bars not having enough protein… oh, and hobi said i looked like i was about to pop—”
yoongi scrunches his nose in distaste. 
“he’s an idiot. you look perfect.”
“yeah, but he’s your idiot.”
“and i’m starting to regret that.”
you laugh quietly, peeling the first tangerine with practiced hands. the sharp citrus smell fills the air, and you separate a segment before holding it out toward him.
yoongi quirks a brow.
“are you feeding me now?”
“i’m like 6 months pregnant and growing a human,” you peel another segment carefully, the sound crisp in the quiet of the office. “you think i’m doing all this for me?”
yoongi’s gaze flickers to yours—dry, disbelieving—but his lips twitch. “right. you’re peeling tangerines purely out of obligation.”
“purely. i do this for all my babydaddies…” you hold the segment out toward him, a quiet challenge in your eyes. “now be nice and take it.”
there’s a beat of silence where neither of you move, but then yoongi leans in, the edge of his knee brushing yours as he lets you press the tangerine to his lips. his eyes stay on you the whole time, half amused and half… something else.
“good job, daddy.”
yoongi freezes mid-chew, a soft scoff escaping him as his gaze sharpens. 
“don’t.”
you raise an innocent brow, peeling another tangerine with practiced fingers. 
“don’t?”
“don’t start.”
“why not?” you tease.
yoongi exhales through his nose, leaning back against the desk as he watches you. his long legs stretch out in front of him, the tips of his shoes almost bumping yours. 
“you’re playing with me.”
“maybe so… but only because it seems like you’re easy to mess with,” you quip, holding out another segment.
yoongi doesn’t move immediately this time. he just looks at you, his expression unreadable.
“but seriously… you don’t have to do that,” he mutters.
you blink, confused. “do what?”
“... do things like this.”
something about the way he says it makes the air feel different, heavier. you hesitate for a second before nudging his hand. 
“it’s just a peeled tangerine.”
“no it’s not,” he says. 
you blink at him. 
“okay,” you begin to confess. “it’s not. you know what it means and you know why i’m doing it. so what?”
yoongi huffs quietly—almost a laugh—but he leans forward again, this time brushing your fingertips just a little longer than necessary as he takes it. your breath catches, just for a moment, and yoongi notices. 
of course he does.
the corner of his mouth twitches.
“see? you’re not so tough.”
“never said i was,” you say softly, peeling another piece without looking at him. “especially when it’s about you.”
yoongi watches you carefully, his hand sliding to rest against the couch beside you, close enough that his fingers almost graze your dress.
“you always get like this when you’re bored,” he says finally, voice low.
“get like what?”
“antagonizing me.”
you smirk to yourself, holding another segment out toward him.
“it’s called keeping you on your toes. you should thank me.”
yoongi leans in again, but this time, there’s a faint smile on his lips as he takes the fruit from your hand.
“thank you—”
the door swings open without warning.
“am i interrupting something?”
jungkook’s voice cuts through the room, and you freeze mid-motion, holding a tangerine segment up to yoongi’s mouth. yoongi sighs deeply, closing his eyes for a brief second like he’s praying for patience.
“come back later, jungkook,” yoongi mutters, but you don’t move. instead, you smirk and press the tangerine to his lips anyway.
he takes it begrudgingly, chewing as he glares at jungkook.
“wow,” jungkook says, stepping fully into the room and folding his arms. “the baby’s not even here yet, and you two are already disgusting.”
“who cares about what you think?” you quip, reaching toward yoongi again when you see a bit of juice spill from the corner of his mouth.
before he can move, your thumb brushes the juice away, and without thinking, you bring it to your mouth, licking it off.
yoongi freezes.
jungkook’s jaw drops.
“oh my god,” jungkook groans, clapping a hand over his eyes dramatically. “can you two not? in the workplace? fired.”
yoongi’s ears tint faintly pink, and he clears his throat, shooting you a look that’s half warning, half something softer.
“you came in uninvited,” he says flatly. “and i’m technically your boss.”
“yeah, well, now i regret it.” jungkook drops his hand and gestures between the two of you. “just take the day off. seriously. the patients can survive without you—i’ll handle everything.”
“we barely have any patients today.”
“see?” jungkook sighs. “i’ll send out the emails and shit. just sign what you need to sign and get out of here.”
yoongi hesitates, eyes flickering to you. you shrug casually.
“it is lunch time… what do you say?” you ask, a small, knowing smile curling at your lips. “wanna get some lunch?”
“like a date?”
“a date.”
yoongi stares at you for a moment, and you see the way his jaw shifts, like he’s trying to fight back a smile.
finally, he exhales, pushing himself off the desk and taking the box from your hands. “let’s go,” he murmurs, his voice low, just for you.
“you’re welcome!” jungkook calls as you both leave the office, the door swinging shut behind you.
yoongi’s hand finds the small of your back, guiding you out, and he leans closer as tells you;
“we gotta eat fast. he’s gonna call me in an hour near tears because he won’t know what to do with the paperwork.”
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you and yoongi decide to eat at this cozy but upscale restaurant downtown. 
the atmosphere buzzes with laughter and soft lighting that gives off a relaxed vibe, despite the place’s high-end feel. when the last of your plates are cleared away, and yoongi reaches for his wallet, about to ask for the bill.
"i’ll get it," you say, pulling your phone out. 
but before you can do anything, the waiter comes over with a smile.
“ms ___? your meal has already been taken care of,” your waiter tells you both. yoongi blinks in surprise, looking from the waiter to you.
you make a small surprised face, catching his gaze. 
“oh, did i forget to tell you? the chef here was my old junior sous chef, jiun. she’s been inviting me to eat here for a while, but i just haven’t had the time. i texted her earlier, and she insisted we try her new menu."
yoongi quirks a brow, still processing. "so everything we ate... was from her?"
you nod, giving a soft shrug. “yeah. but i swear, i had no idea she was going to cover it all.”
yoongi stares at you for a second, his expression softening into something between surprise and admiration. 
“wow… you’re seriously so cool,” he praises you, unable to stop a small laugh from slipping out.
you feel a heat rise to your cheeks, but it’s not embarrassment—it’s a kind of warmth, the way yoongi always makes you feel.
then, to your surprise, he leans in and kisses your cheek. 
the moment is soft, almost unintentional, but it’s enough to make your heart skip. you lean into it without thinking, his hand immediately finding your waist as he helps you stand. his fingers brush over the fabric of your dress, sending a tiny shiver through you as his touch lingers.
you both start heading toward the door, your hand wrapped around his as you step out into the fresh air, the afternoon sunlight casting soft shadows.
just as you're about to walk out, you see jiun approaching from the kitchen, her face lighting up when she sees you.
“oh my god! ___, you’re pregnant!” she practically beams, her excitement filling the space. "stop… oh my god, oh my god! babes, you’re just glowing—how are you so pretty?”
you smile, your cheeks flushing, both from the compliment and the way jiun’s enthusiasm hits you full force. you open your mouth to introduce yoongi, but before you can, yoongi beats you to it.
what do you even say?
this is yoongi, my boyfriend.
this is yoongi, my babydaddy.
this is yoongi, my friend but not really.
“I’m yoongi.”
yeah.
that’s probably good.
jiun’s eyes flicker from you to him, and a playful look flashes across her face. you catch her glance at your hand—your ring finger empty. she’s smooth with it though, and you know she means no harm. she just wants to have context without asking for it.
“oh, i see. the father, huh?” she teases, then looks back at you with a knowing grin. "___, we talked about this all the time, remember? i’m so happy for you both."
you feel your face warm at her words. 
there’s no hiding your embarrassment now, especially since jiun’s been so open about how she used to listen to all your daydreams. 
you nervously laugh, shrugging a little, but yoongi just chuckles and leans in to whisper into your ear, “i know.”
the three of you stand there for a moment, an awkward but comfortable silence settling between you all. you try to shake off the sudden shyness, glancing at yoongi. his hand is still on your waist, his thumb gently rubbing over your side as if to ground you.
jiun looks at the two of you and then back at you, still beaming. 
“honestly, i’m just so happy for you. i remember you talking about wanting this for so long. i’m so glad it happened for you… and with someone like…” jiun pauses, gesturing for yoongi to complete her sentance. 
“i’m a nurse practitioner for a dermatology practice my friends and i own.”
jiun’s eyes widen. 
“holy shit,” she breathes. “you chose well, ___. can you find me a babydaddy too?”
you throw your head back and laugh. she moves closer to you, tugging on your arm. “are you still friends with that taehyung guy? the one that’s friends with the twink and the buff one?”
you roll your eyes at her. 
“you guys kissed once at a party—”
“i want his babies.”
yoongi almost chokes on air. 
jiun shifts her attention to him and apologies. “sorry,” jiun giggles. “hyemi, ___, and i are a little unhinged when it comes to sex.” 
yoongi, noticing the warmth and tenderness in her voice, offers a small but sincere smile.
“all good,” he says, his voice soft. “he is single though… is there any way i could pitch jungkook to you?”
“the twink?”
“the buff one.”
jiun thinks for a moment. “isn’t he into milfs?”
yoongi’s smile drops. 
you make a face at jiun and shake your head. she quickly catches on and laughs, trying to move past the moment.
“you know what? you two look really good together. don’t forget to invite me to the baby shower, okay?”
you nod, unable to hide your smile now. "yeah. i’m actually not sure if i’m gonna have one—”
“that’s insane,” jiun gasps. “you out of all people deserve one. you’ve wanted to be a mom for so long… yoongi, contact me for catering, okay? that’ll be my baby shower gift.” 
“jiun, that’s too much—”
“okay,” yoongi accepts her offer. “let me know if you want any expenses cover though. it’s no problem.”
jiun looks back at you, her grin widening. “provider man, i see… well, wow. i love this for you, ___. you’re gonna be a great mom, and i know yoongi is lucky to have you.”
you feel your heart swell, but you try to hide your emotions with a soft laugh. 
"stop, you’re gonna make me cry."
“it’s the pregnancy harmones.”
“totally.”
the three of you laugh together, the tension between you all easing as jiun’s bubbly energy fills the space around you.
"i have to get back to the kitchen, but it was so good to see you. enjoy the rest of your day guys! and i’m serious about that baby shower, okay?" jiun says, giving you both a quick hug before she heads back to the kitchen.
as she disappears inside, yoongi takes your hand, guiding you out of the restaurant. 
"you really are something, you know that?" he says softly, his voice low, like he’s trying to keep the moment just for the two of you. “you have good friends.”
you grin at him, leaning into his side. “true. i mean, i’ve got good taste.”
“you do.” yoongi chuckles, the sound warm and genuine. “remember when i was your friend?” his hand moves down to your waist again, his touch reassuring, like he’s silently claiming this space between you both, soft and sure.
“awh, what does that mean? are you not my friend anymore?”
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you and yoongi go home and spend the afternoon rearranging a few things in the living room, bedroom, and nursery.
there’s no rush, just the kind of slow, comfortable task that makes the house feel more like home. he’s focused, but every now and then, his eyes flicker over to you, catching the way your movements are a little slower now with the growing baby.
“you know, we should’ve done this sooner,” yoongi says with a small smirk as he adjusts a shelf in the living room, his sleeves rolled up.
you laugh, brushing your hair from your face. “we tried, remember? but i kept changing my mind. it’s the pregancy brain—”
“yeah, yeah,” he chuckles, stepping back to take in the space. “so, are you committed to this? it looks good. like really good.”
you look around the room, the warm glow from the soft lighting making everything feel cozy and welcoming. 
“i am,” you breathe.
by dinner time, the kitchen smells like heaven.
the two of you working side by side at the stove, getting everything ready. yoongi’s movements are precise, fluid, and you find yourself watching him, the way he handles the utensils and moves around the kitchen with ease.
“need help with anything?” you ask, leaning over the counter, watching him chop vegetables.
“just stay out of my way, and we’ll be fine,” yoongi teases without looking up, though there’s a glint of playfulness in his eyes.
you roll your eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips betrays you. 
“oh, i see how it is.” 
“too harsh?”
you frown at him.
“just wondering where the guy that begged for private cooking lessons went.”
yoongi throws his head back and laughs. you join him and poke his sides. he squirms and tells you to leave his kitchen.
you don’t listen.
instead, you continue to annoy him. 
as the meal comes together, the soft music playing in the background and the warm lighting create a slow, almost intimate atmosphere. you stand close to yoongi, your body just slightly pressed against his, and before you know it, you’re laughing into the crook of his neck as he stirs something on the stove.
he pauses for a moment, his hand resting on your hip, and his eyes flicker to you.
“you’re distracting me."
“i’m just admiring your cooking skills.” you grin, pressing a kiss to his neck before pulling away to finish setting the table.
when you finally sit down to eat, you’re side by side, the tension from the earlier moments easing as the evening settles in. yoongi’s hand rests lightly on your thigh, his thumb drawing soft circles over your skin, the warmth of his touch grounding you in the quiet comfort of the moment.
“so,” he starts, voice low and teasing, “baby names?”
you look over at him with an exicted look on your face. “oh my god. should we talk about that tonight?”
yoongi snorts, giving you a playful nudge. “why not now?”
you laugh, shaking your head. “i’ll get too excited. i won’t eat.”
yoongi’s hand gives your thigh a gentle squeeze, his lips curling into a smile.
“okay. let’s get ready for bed and talk about it then?”
you reach over, brushing a strand of hair from his face.
“oh my god, i think you just got me pregnant again.”
he raises an eyebrow, that playful glint returning to his eyes. “is that so?”
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yoongi is washing dishes while you lay on the couch, munching on tangerines. 
the soft scent of citrus fills the room, and your pregnant belly rests comfortably on the couch, the perfect table for the fruit.
“you know,” you start, looking down at your belly with a grin, “my tummy’s really the perfect table for tangerines.”
yoongi glances over, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he wipes his hands on a towel. “of course it is. a convenient little snack spot.”
you giggle, reaching for another tangerine, but yoongi sets the dish towel down and walks over to you, his steps slow and deliberate. he dips his head low to press a soft kiss to your lips, but before you can react, he pulls away slightly, taking a tangerine from your mouth instead.
“i knew you were saving that one for me,” he murmurs, a smirk playing on his lips as he settles down beside you.
you laugh softly, offering him the next segment of tangerine, but he shakes his head, instead pulling you closer, his arms wrapping around your body, his chest against your back. his breath is warm against your ear as he nuzzles your neck.
“i missed you,” he whispers.
“you did?” you tease, tilting your head back to look at him, your hand resting on his arm. “is that why you’re so clingy?”
yoongi laughs quietly, the sound soft and affectionate, before his lips find yours in a slow, lingering kiss. the world outside fades as you both settle into the quiet of the moment, the only sound being your breathing and his heart's soft, steady beat against your back.
everything grows more heated. 
more urgent. 
as he pulls you even closer, his lips moving to your neck, his hands roaming over your body with a gentle insistence. you don’t pull away, instead melting into him, your own hands finding their way to his chest, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath his shirt.
he pauses, looking at you with a small smile, his forehead resting against yours. 
“you’re so perfect,” he murmurs, his voice thick with affection.
you smile, running your fingers through his hair. 
“so are you.”
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you’re obsessed with yoongi’s lips.
maybe that’s why you cum fast and hard as he presses, drags, and uses them to suck on your clit. he knows all the right places to get your toes curling and your eyes wincing. you grip his hair, grinding your pussy into his face more and more. his hot breath adds a depth you can’t quite explain. 
it’s good.
so fucking good. 
“mhmm,” you moan. “y-yoongi…”
he does a few kitten licks, slurping up the last few drops of your cum from inside your folds. looking up at you, you feel your chest tighten as he maintains eye contact. 
yoongi finishes you off and you lose your breath. 
quickly, he hovers over and takes his shirt off. you sit up and raise your hands. he helps you take your dress off, revealing you in just your bra. 
and god…
are your tits the best thing he’s ever seen. 
wow. 
they’re plump and just so perfect. he practically drools at the sight of them. yoongi can’t stop his hands from cupping them over your bra. you gasp from his touch and whine; 
“my nipples… they’re still so sensitive.” 
suddenly both of you recall that night he came over and how one thing led to another… how he looked at you as he sucked your tits and palmed them. how he looked at you as he tugged on your nipples… how he massaged them until the soreness was gone. 
how good he was at playing with them. 
yoongi lowers himself and kisses your hard nipples. 
“that okay?” he asks you. 
“y-yeah,” you shiver from his light touch. “feels good…”
“okay,” he breathes. “i… just wanna make sure… you’re okay with this? do you want to have sex? we don’t have to. i can just—”
you reach for him and tug him close. kissing him deep and slow, you pull away and lean your forehead against his. 
“yeah.”
that’s all he needs. 
yoongi smiles and kisses you once more before taking his underwear off. revealing himself, your throat goes dry. 
sometimes, it baffles you how fucking big he is. 
no fucking wonder you got pregnant after the first time. 
you reach for his cock, but he jolts away. he spits on it, keeping his eyes on you. 
“don’t worry about me,” yoongi assures you. “i’ll cum no matter what.” 
you scoff at him. 
“but i wanna—mhmmmffffppph—”
as yoongi kisses you, he shifts his body to your side. he lays behind you, stretching his arms to cup your body. once he’s comfortable, he reaches for his cock and jerks it off a few more times before inserting it inside you. he spoons you, holding you close and resting his chin on top of your head. 
when he’s fully in, you let out a moan. 
“oh my god…”
“mhm?” he breathes. “is it okay? are you comfortable?” 
you nod and take his hand. you move it to you breast and have him squeeze it.
“keep going, honey.”
yoongi kisses the top of your head and begins to fuck you from behind. as he does so, you feel him everywhere. his dick is so fucking big, it’s hard not to. as he fucks you, each stroke makes you feel like you’re coming to life. like, you weren’t living until he put himself inside you. 
he moves slowly but surely, being careful with the way his pelvis slaps against your ass. you make cute little noises that boost his ego and all he can think is; 
fuck. 
he’s in love. 
as he fucks himself more and more into you, you begin to lose your breath. yoongi takes his hand off your tits and moves them down to your clit. he plays with it, pinching, squishing, and rubbing it. you moan louder and louder—unable to contain how good he makes you feel. 
“f-fuck,” you utter. “yoongi… oh my god…”
“yeah?” he hisses. “you like this? am i fucking you good, mama?”
“so good, daddy. so fucking good… u-uhhh! uh huh… mhmmmm!”
he hisses. 
“i’m gonna cum,” yoongi pants, breathing in through his nose. “are you close?”
you gulp. “almost?”
“almost?” he repeats. “okay. let’s change positions.” 
before you know it, yoongi pulls himself out and gets you to lay flat on your back. he gets on top of you, planting both his arms on either side of you. instantly, he lowers himself to kiss you. his hands move to your hair as yours wrap around his back. 
you dig your nails into his skin, dragging them down. then, you lower your hands even more and find his dick. you flick your wrist, gripping on it just enough. you pump him a few times before shoving his dick back inside you. 
when his cock is fully inside, you moan into his ear. 
“oh god… daddy, your cock is so fucking hard. i’m so wet, so close to cumming…”
“mhm?” yoongi moans. “yeah, mama?”
“y-yeah,” you gasp. “can you cum inside me again, daddy? i miss how it feels. so sticky… so creamy. you remember, right? how tight i got when you made me cum? did you cock get rock hard when you came inside me? hmm? can you make your cum special for me?”
yoongi gulps. 
“special for you? how so, mama?”
you kiss him. 
“dunno,” you bite your lip. “give me a lot, please. extra creamy. extra yummy.”
he snickers, thrusting inside you harder and harder. 
“i’ll do by best.”
“o-ohh,” you moan again. “mhm! j-just like that, daddy! o-ohh.. oh! oh my god. yes, yes, yes—oh my god!” 
soon, your whines and moans turn into sobs. 
you’re actually fucking sobbing over his dick. 
yoongi fucks you so good, your pussy swells. he fucks you hard but in a gentle enough way that you two are still being cautious over the bump between you two. every so often, he shifts to kiss your tummy. 
then finally, your breath hitches, and your legs begin to shake. 
you cum. 
“y-yoongi—”
“i got you,” he says, holding you tighter. 
you wrap your arms around his shoulder blade and bury your face in the crook of his neck. his sweat smells so good to you. 
as you ride your climax, yoongi continues to fuck you. he grunts, trying to push himself to the limit. he drags his dick inside and out of you—trying his best to gather all his cum. 
then, he spills himself inside you. 
“fuckkk…” he groans. 
you feel it. 
you feel his cum squirt inside you. you feel it spill out of your hole and down your folds. you feel it leak onto the bed. 
“thank you, daddy.. thank you.”
“anything for you, mama.”
lazily, yoongi continues to fuck you. 
you kiss his shoulders as he whimpers; 
“___?”
“mhmm?” you move your hands to his hair. there’s a silence that follows, but nothing changes. he doesn’t move and neither do you. 
and you feel it. 
you know it. 
then, he says it. 
“i love you.”
and with a flutter in your heart, his cum inside your pussy, and his baby inside you… you say it too. 
“i love you too.”
321 notes · View notes
judysxnd · 1 month ago
Text
Baby who ?
Pedro pascal x reader
I had this in my drafts for a very long time (like the rest of my writings). But it kinda happened when I was online shopping, I said Baby Yoda and I surprised myself and it gave me this idea 😂
It’s just a little something, nothing big (or good) but there ya go 🤷🏻‍♀️
I'm finally publishing something again. I mean this was written a long time ago and only needed some editing.
Also, as Christmas is getting closer, my job is going to get even tougher and I might even get less time for me but I'm determined to write again. I miss it too much! And I've received some requests again, so I'm going to try my best. Thank you 🫶🏼
—————————————————————————
Today was a stay-at-home day. I mean, it’s Sunday, there isn’t much to do. It was also Pedro’s day off, so you did want to spend the most of it with him. But neither of you had the energy to actually do something, like go hiking, doing some chores or something else, so you just chilled the entire day.
Stayed in bed until 11am, a late breakfast for lunch, staying on the couch with some tv show in the background, but really you’re just talking and catching up on what’s going on since Pedro was away for some time.
At some point you had brought your computer after needing to make a quick search on internet to prove a point (and unfortunately he was right), you ended up looking through some clothes and stuff. Why not do some online shopping? But you didn’t really like anything, so you were just looking and casually judging some seriously weird stuff. At least you were both enjoying yourselves while not really doing anything.
“Oh look at the socks!” You said as you saw Grogu on some pair of socks. It immediately made Pedro turned his head, having a big smile after what he saw
“They are so cute!”
“Oh, wait” you scrolled a bit further “there are also shows with baby yoda on it!” You immediately realized what you just said, and as you felt Pedro freeze, you slowly turned your head, trying not to laugh. He was shocked, his big brown eyes looking straight at you. “Shit- sorry, grogu!”
You looked at each other for a few seconds but neither of could contain their laugh.
“You’re lucky” Pedro said looking at you then at your screen
“Or what?” You teased. He arched an eyebrow
“Or I would bring you in warm or I would bring you in cold” he said with his mandalorian voice. You were speechless, and not in a bad way.
“Look who’s teasing now” you kept going, which Pedro just laughed at. “liking the voice very much right now” you whispered
“Wh-what was that?” Pedro leaned
“Hm?”
“What did you say?”
“Nothing” you stared at each other again, and just laughed “hm”
“I won’t repeat it, so if you heard it, good for you, if you didn’t, well.. it’s too bad” you shrugged
“I swear” he laughed
And that's how it became a game between the two of you. But for real.. He did bring you in warm many many times.
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208 notes · View notes
seeingivy · 9 months ago
Text
sisters
ryomen sukuna x f!reader
**part of my best friend's (older brother) fic
previous part linked here
TW: minor mentions of violence/parental abuse!! also this is suggestive pls read at your own discretion!!
--
“so did i grow another head or are you meeting up with sammy later?” 
“what? how did you even know about that?” 
sukuna lazily leans against you, still half asleep, as he breathes into your neck, a string of unintelligible noises coming out of his throat. you can tell that it’s still too early for him – and that your racket or your absence must have woken him up. you reach up, running one of your hands through his hair, before pressing a halfhearted kiss to his cheek and returning to your typing. 
“google calendar.” sukuna responds. 
you smile. 
“i didn’t realize you actually looked at that.” 
sukuna reaches forward, slamming the screen of your computer down, as you roll your eyes and lean against him. 
“sukuna.” 
“you can study in bed, y’know.” he responds. 
“that’ll distract you, with the typing and the shuffling of papers and all that.” 
“well, it’s already fucking distracting when i wake up and you’re not next to me, so…same shit.” 
you roll your eyes. 
“stop being dramatic. i could easily spend the weekend at my own place and you’d sleep just fine.” you respond. 
“no, i wouldn’t. you basically live here now, i’d obviously notice if you just disappeared.” he deadpans. 
you pause, clutching your pencil in your hand, before spinning it around in your palm. you can feel sukuna lean off of you, your silence clueing him in, as he now intently stares at you with his brown eyes, drowning in irritation. he’s clearly awake now. 
“what are you thinking about?” he asks. 
“nothing.” 
“well, it’s certainly not nothing. and i’m almost positive it’s something annoying because you’re not telling me.” he responds, poking into your cheek. 
you sigh. 
“should i be paying rent? because…i really am here all the time…s’kind of unfair if you’re the one paying for the place when i stole all of your closet space and your bed and –” 
“you’re making it sound like you’re such a nuisance to me. contrary to your beliefs, i actually love that you’re using my closet and that you take my jackets sometimes. and in my opinion, the only place you should be is in my bed anyway, so.” 
sukuna can tell that you’re not really buying it. 
“can you let me cover our groceries? i literally eat all of your food too. and –” 
“it’s our food. i made it for you.” he complains. 
“i’m probably emptying out your bank account and you’re just letting me. you should just –” 
sukuna reaches for your legs, before sliding you sideways on the chair so that you’re facing him. and he takes his residence in between your legs, cupping his hands around your face, and angling your chin up so that you’re looking at him. 
“you’re about to graduate. how about…you start splitting rent with me when you aren’t living in your dorm and you’re officially living with me? it doesn’t make sense to pay for two places right now.” 
you bite down on the softness of your cheek. 
“are you…asking me to move in with you?”
“you already live here.” he deadpans. 
“no. but then we’d have to put me on the lease. i’d-i’d actually live here live here.” 
“well, were you really thinking about moving back home? you would hate that.” 
“i mean no. but i was going to look for an apartment and roommates and –” 
“i have an apartment right here. i would be a great roommate – i feed you and i kiss you when you’re sad, which seems like a win win to me. but if it feels too fast for you to move in with me in a few months, that’s okay with me. i will help you apartment hunt if it comes to it.” 
you frown. 
“do you think people will judge us for moving in together so fast? i mean, by the time i graduate, it’ll only have been like…like half a year? and we still haven’t –” 
“do you think it’s weird?” 
“i mean, no but –” 
“what other people say doesn’t matter. if you want to live here when june comes around, that’s really no one else’s business. i’m not going to murder you, i won’t be a bad roommate, and that’s kind of all that matters.” 
you smile. 
“do you want to live with me?” 
“you. already. live. here.” he responds. 
“no, but like. joint lease. like actually living here. you know you won’t be able to break up with me for like two years because we’ll be stuck here, right?”
“well, i was obviously not planning on breaking up with you, so that won’t be a problem, will it?” 
you pause. 
“i guess not.” 
sukuna gives you a satisfied smile, before dropping his hand from your face to the chain hanging around your neck. you can’t help but feel your cheeks warm as he admires the little charms on the necklace he gave you, running his fingers over them. 
“what?” you ask. 
“you’re still wearing it.” 
“are you crazy? i have to wear this forever now. i’m never going to take it off.” 
“okay, but…i do take mine to get cleaned every few months so you will eventually have to take it off.” 
you roll your eyes, as you bring one of your hands up to his, and squeeze. 
“so…i’m taking your big avoidance of the question as a confirmation that you really are seeing sammy later?” 
you sigh. 
“yeah. i’ve been trying to make plans with her for two weeks and she was finally able to pencil me in.” 
sukuna pulls up the chair next to you, sitting on it backwards, as he leans his chin against the back of the chair. he’s playing with the rings on your fingers, twisting them back and forth, as he listens. 
“okay, but why? do i have to roam around in the mall at the same time as you guys just to save you in case she’s a bitch?” 
“don’t call her a bitch, sukuna.” you groan. 
sukuna’s eyes widen, as he jokingly presses his hands to your face and starts shaking your head. 
“who are you and what did you do to my girlfriend?” 
you swat his hands off, as you narrow your eyes at him. 
“stop it! i’m just…trying to be nicer to her. you should be too, she’s still my sister.” 
“wow. what brought on this sudden need to reconcile with the devil?” 
“sukuna!” 
“okay, okay, i’m done.” 
you pause, leaning your cheek against the cold tile of the kitchen island. it bites into your skin, the shrill cold making the hairs on the ends of your arm stand up. 
“you know how we hate that yuuji is so…so one track minded when it comes to you and me? how he kind of pushes his own feelings into what he thinks about us and that…that a lot of them are really immature things from when you guys were kids?” 
“yeah.” 
“it would be hypocritical of me to hate yuuji for doing that when i do the same thing to my own sister.” 
sukuna raises his eyebrows. 
“do you?” 
“i think so. i’m just…i don’t know. i feel like dating you has made me more self aware.” 
“well, obviously. i’m the epitome of emotional intelligence.” 
“shut up! i was just saying because…well, i know why yuuji harbors so much dislike for you now that you’re dating me.”  
sukuna pauses, leaning forward like he’ll almost miss it if he isn’t close enough to hear it. 
“he thought it was really careless when you left for europe, that you just thought about yourself and no one else. he thought it was really unfair because he still needed you to be there for him and you weren’t anymore.” 
sukuna can feel the guilt pooling in his chest. 
“but now that i’m dating you…and i know why you left, i feel like he’s really immature. i know that yuuji needed you but you were still a kid too. it wasn’t your responsibility to take care of him and he can’t get mad at you for that. you were your own person and you picked what was right for you.” 
sukuna reaches forward and cups one of your cheeks. you lean into the warmth of his hand, before pressing a kiss to his palm. 
“that’s why i hated sammy. that she would try to be fake and act like she was the best, when i knew she was getting drunk every weekend in highschool. i…i was always embarrassed because really, i just wanted her to take care of me the way you took care of yuuji. but that wasn’t her job and really, she still did that when it really mattered, anyways.” 
“what do you mean?” 
“that time i told you about, where i got caught in that car with mazzy and got in trouble. they called my mom, but…but sammy was the one who picked up. she was the one who came and got me and i had to tell her everything. i was expecting for her to tell me what everyone kind of did at that time, that he was a bad guy so what did i expect from being with him?” 
“but?” 
“but she just took me home and told me to take a shower. made me a really nice dinner. it meant a lot to me at the time, i-i basically started sobbing when she handed me my food because it just felt so nice to be around someone who just wanted to take care of me. she never even asked me twice about it, just…just kind of did what i needed.”  
sukuna presses a kiss to the top of your knuckles. 
“we’re older now. i want us to be better and just…be friends at least? i don’t know, i just think i’ve been really unfair to her when i’ve never even stopped to ask her if she needed anything from me.” 
“well, you can start by asking her today.” sukuna offers. 
you smile. 
“yeah. yeah, i can.” 
sukuna leans forward and presses a kiss to your forehead. 
“so what i’m hearing is…i’m the best, most self aware boyfriend ever who –” 
“oh, calm down, narcissus. just when i think your ego can’t get bigger you go and start staying stuff like that.” 
--
you wait for sammy across from the little donut shop at the mall. you get a set of two donuts – a maple bar for her and a sugar one for you – as you swing your legs over the bench and rehearse your little script in your head. 
it felt a little evil given the conversation you had with sukuna earlier in the day, but you had a favor you desperately needed to ask her. 
and surely enough, she comes right on time, hands shoved in her pockets as she gives you a halfhearted smile. you jump up, unsure if you should hug her or shake hands and then there’s too much of a pause when you don’t say anything. 
“are you okay?” she asks.
“hm? yeah! yeah. how are you? also, i got you a donut. and it’s maple, your favorite! and –” 
you pause – too much. but she fills the silence. 
“you’re rambling.” she states, as she plops down on the bench. 
she shoots you a grateful smile as she picks up the donut from the box, perfectly wrapped in the napkin, and takes a bite out of it. you mimic her motions, maybe scarfing down yours faster than you should have, from the nervousness. 
she hates you. 
“jesus. is this the first time you ate today? do i have to slap sukuna for not feeding my little sister properly?” 
sammy reaches forward, an annoyed look on her face, as she wipes away the sugar around the edges of your mouth – and you shoot her a grateful smile, that she halfheartedly acknowledges, as you lean back on the bench. 
“how’d you know about sukuna?” 
sammy rolls her eyes. 
“kisa. she was going on and on about how the ryomen sukuna is dating sammy’s little sister. half of the town knows by now, including the moms, who are planning to invite you to some big dinner where they start talking about your wedding.” 
“huh? my what?” 
“you should thank me, bitch. they were actually talking about your grandchildren and i told them that they need to tone it back fifty notches or you both won’t ever talk to them again.” 
“well, sukuna definitely won’t if they say that.” 
“tell me about it.” she responds. 
you shoot her a grateful smile, heart warm that she had thought to advocate for you in the slightest, as you prep yourself to say your entire spiel. 
“i asked you a question. is he good to you?” sammy asks. 
“what?” 
“sukuna. is he good to you or do i have to mutilate him?” 
you smile and she returns it back, leaning back in her chair and hiking her legs to her chest. 
“really good. i really love him.” you respond. 
sammy smiles. 
“i know.” 
“what do you mean you know?” 
“first and foremost, that poor kid has been so hopelessly wet in his pants for you since he was like a kid. do you remember that one birthday where he got you a bike that he built from scratch? second, i did hear him call you a pretty girl that one dinner he came to right before you started chewing him out.” 
you cringe. 
“oh god. we’re not actually like that – i was being really stupid that day. i just…” 
“no, it was really funny. he came back looking like a kicked dog when mom asked him to leave.” 
you smile. 
“i bet.” 
you pause. you had to be honest. 
“we actually don’t fight that much, that was just one of the rare times. i just got kind of jealous. of you. when the moms were suggesting that you date him and you were buying into it. i thought he was actually going to do it and i just…got irritated and yelled at him. and trust me, i was even worse when we got home before i calmed down, so…” 
sammy scoffs. 
“i don’t want to date your boyfriend.” 
“i know! it…it was my problem. i clearly have issues with insecurities, especially when it comes to you because of how the moms were sometimes, and i know that it’s my fault.” 
sammy raises her eyes.
“what?” 
“well, i don’t know. i mean, i feel like i’ve had big problems with what people have thought of me since i was a kid. but i always felt like they liked you better, and that because they liked you they couldn’t like me, and sometimes it made me resent you. and it was unfair, because, because…that’s not really your fault.” 
sammy sighs, before demolishing her donut by splitting it in half. 
“well, that’s not entirely true.” 
“hm?” 
“that’s not true. sometimes…i did do it on purpose. sometimes, i got a kick out of the fact that for once that…someone liked me instead of you.” 
“you’re kidding.” you deadpan. 
“i’m really not though. because you tend to forget, that i didn’t have friends like you did when you were a kid. you met yuuji the first day we moved into that house. sukuna basically followed you around after that. the three of you were friends and…and i was never included. so if the parents were the ones who liked to be around me, then…then that’s where i was going to be.” 
you pause.
the worst part of it was that sammy was always your dad’s favorite. and he’s the one who picked up and left. 
“you forget that your best friend before yuuji was me, y/n. i’m sorry that i was a bitch to you and maybe made some of your insecurities worse…but you did it to me first. i wasn’t exactly mature at that age so i just…that’s just what i did.” 
you lean back, unable to stop thinking about it now. that when you and yuuji wanted to go to the park, sukuna was always the one who took you guys – and that sammy was the one who stayed behind. how you really can’t remember a time where it was ever the four of you, but hundreds of times that sukuna had followed behind you and yuuji under the guise of taking care of you. 
and then you feel horrible. because every time you got drunk in highschool, yuuji was always there covering for you, making sure that you made it home safe with water and aspirin in your system, when you almost always found sammy half passed out on the porch before you had to drag her back into the house before your mom noticed. 
that maybe, sammy knew exactly how to take care of you that night she had to pick you up, because it was exactly what she had been longing for someone to do for her. 
“i’m a really shitty sister, aren’t i?” you ask.  
“yeah. but i am too, so…can’t really blame yourself there.” 
“are you? because…because i literally abandoned you.” 
“and i took it out on you and your friends after the fact so, relax. we’re both shitty people, it’s not a big deal.” 
you pause. you suppose that she’s right. 
“i was going to ask something really cheesy but i know you’d get really annoyed.” you state. 
sammy curls her nose up in disgust. 
“like what?” 
“well, i was going to ask if we were going to be friends now? and –” 
“you exercised the correct judgment. that’s disgusting, y/n.” 
but then sammy brings her hand up and rests it against the top of your head, before brushing the stray hairs around your face to the backs of your ears. and you smile, feeling so oddly taken care of that it makes your heart warm. 
“god. he really is good for you, isn’t he?” 
“who?”
“pablo picasso. obviously, sukuna.” sammy responds, tone bitingly sarcastic. 
“why do you say that?” 
“dunno. we’re hanging out right now. talking about our feelings. if he makes you realize that you’re jealous of me and indirectly makes us talk about our…whatever…then he must be good for you. that and the fact that he’s been obsessed with you since forever so, he must be on top of the world.” 
you smile. 
“i don’t know. i kind of thought that some part of me was…ruined after what happened back then. like i came with this big thing that someone else would have to come to terms with if they were going to be with me.” 
sammy glares at you, but you can tell that it’s laced with concern. that she thinks you’re being stupid. 
“what?” 
“i just mean. i always knew i’d have problems from my past relationship in my current one. and that maybe someone wouldn’t love me enough to be patient, because i would struggle so much.” 
sammy sighs. 
“but?” 
“but, he’s so patient. sammy, sometimes i don’t even know what i did to deserve him. he’s…he does things just because he knows they’ll make me happy, even if he hates them, and…and he’s always so understanding about everything. he never pushes, he’s always so sweet and just –” 
“it’s what you deserve.” 
“what?” 
“it’s what you should have had the first time.” sammy states. 
you pause.
“yeah. but it almost makes me more grateful for him now. it’s almost like…i had to know the bad to really appreciate the good? and it makes it sweeter? i don’t know, i obviously wouldn’t have wanted it to happen if i had the choice, but i’m just really…really grateful for him.” you respond. 
“i’m sure that means the world to him.” 
“what do you mean?” 
sammy nearly cringes. 
“well, you know how his dad was. i’m sure it makes his entire life that someone actually appreciates him.” 
you nod. 
“i was going to call him after this actually. tell him that if he ever hurts my little sister, who is my friend now, i’m going to cut his dick off. but…same for you. sometimes i forget how much he suffered at the hands of his dad when he was little. he deserves good just as much as you do.” 
you feel a shiver down your spine. on a topic you had yet to broach with sukuna. on the times that he’d fight so bad with his dad that he’d spend the night at your house. and the rare occasions where his dad would raise his hands on sukuna and when you had to watch your mom ice his skin from the door of the kitchen. 
“you’ll cut my dick off?” you murmur. 
sammy snorts. 
“shut up. you know what i meant.” 
sammy pushes up off the bench, as she gestures for you to join her with her head. 
“so what did you need my help with?” sammy asks. 
“huh? how did you know?” 
“you’re annoying. you’re going to be nice to me but you’re also going to ask for a favor.” sammy states. 
“okay, i’m sorry! but i really can’t ask anyone else, all my friends are all…weird about me and sukuna dating so i can’t just be like oh…oh come buy lingerie with me because i have no idea how any of it works.” 
sammy raises her eyebrows, fighting the urge to laugh, as you shove her. 
“shut up. you’re such a bitch.” 
“you guys already hit a short fuse that you need to spice things up? he’s such a dog.” 
“what? no, no we haven’t even done it yet.” 
“what?” 
“well, we had a whole talk. and now that we’ve waited for so long, i want it to be special. for me and him, and…and i want to feel good, okay? not that i think it’ll make me feel good but i just mean it would be nice to do something like that.” 
sammy links her arm in with yours, turning on your heel towards the direction of the store, as she keeps laughing. you can feel the embarrassment in your cheeks, irritated, as you elbow her in the side one again. 
“stop it!” 
“i’m sorry! that’s actually like really cute and fucking romantic. but i can’t just stop laughing at you saying you don’t know how lingerie works.” 
“it looks so complicated online. just so many…straps and stuff.” 
“okay, okay, relax. my girlfriend loves this type of shit, so i’m basically an expert.” 
you try to hide your shock – at sammy saying she has a girlfriend – as she drags you into the store and basically shoves you into a dressing room. 
and surely enough, you leave the mall with a light pink set that she insisted on buying for you and a box of condoms that you swiped on your way out from the convenience store across the street. 
--
sukuna comes home to dim lights and the faint smell of lavender. and shockingly enough, you serving dinner, perfectly plating and garnishing it with the little minced greens. he quickly decides that it’s his favorite sight – your eyebrows scrunched in concentration, drowning in one of his old t-shirts. 
you feel sukuna’s arms wrap around your waist, as he sags nearly his entire weight around your back, and sighs heavily into your shoulder. 
“hi doll face. what’s the occasion?” he murmurs. 
you smile. 
“does there need to be an occasion for me to do something nice for you?” 
“yes. you’re cooking dinner, which is haunting, baby.” 
“fine. you can starve then.” 
sukuna laughs, before pressing lazy kisses into your neck, and loosening the buttons around his collar. 
and throughout the course of the dinner, he can tell that you’re nervous. it would be a little off putting a few months ago, but he knows better by now – that you’re clearly going to ask him something important or say something big to him. and naturally, with how impatient he was, he was going to weasel it out of you. 
“how was sammy?” sukuna asks. 
you smile. 
“good. she said she will cut your dick off if you hurt my feelings.” 
sukuna snorts. 
“i expected as much. did you give any thought to the apartment?” 
“yeah. it makes sense and…and i really don’t care.” 
you reach forward, pressing your hand into the warmth of his cheek, and feel your heart flutter at the smile he gives you back. you can feel the nervous anticipation pooling under your skin, entire body warm at the thought of him sitting across from you. 
“i really love you, you know that?” you whisper. 
sukuna narrows his eyes at you, the whisper of a smile still on his face. 
“are you sure you’re okay? we can talk about anything that’s bothering you if –” 
“no. no, nothing’s bothering me. really. i just really love you.”
sukuna shakes his head, the lightest pink dusting his cheeks. 
“you silly girl.” he scoffs. 
you smile. 
“i love you more. don’t argue back because you won’t win.” 
you shake your head, before reaching into the lining of your underwear, for the condom that you tucked into your skin. and you place it flat on the table, before looking up at him. 
“wow. you’re serving condom for dessert? at least tell me it’s flavored.” he asks. 
you groan, which earns you him a laugh from him. 
“they come flavored?” 
“yeah, but…but it’s weird so don’t buy those. also, don’t buy condoms. that’s my job.” 
“i don’t know how you initiate these type of things!” 
sukuna laughs, before cupping your cheeks with his hands. 
“you’re like a cavewoman. initiating sex by giving me a condom. no foreplay? no kissing?”
“i mean, obviously. but like…we always kind of get close to it. i just wanted you to know that i was ready. and that i…” 
sukuna grins and it’s enough to make your heart drop to your stomach. 
“that you what?” he whispers. 
“you know.” 
sukuna shakes his head, as he reaches for your waist and pulls you off the chair, and starts dragging you towards his room. 
“i don’t know, y/n. you have to tell me, princess.” 
you feel your cheeks burn, as you press your hands to your sides. 
“well…i want you.” 
“is that right?” 
“sukuna.” you whine. 
sukuna locks his hands around your waist, as you lift yours around his neck, nervously crumpling the fabric of his shirt in your hands as you look up at him. 
“i’m done teasing. you just make it so easy, baby.” 
you bite your lip. 
“well, i kind of like it. so you…you don’t have to stop.” 
sukuna smiles, before leaning his forehead against yours. 
“more of that, okay? you tell me what you like, more importantly what you don’t.” sukuna whispers. 
you nod. 
“safe word.” sukuna states. 
“um…worm?” 
sukuna rolls his eyes. 
“and what if i wanted to call you my pretty little worm? then what?” 
“if i take all my clothes off and you even think about calling me a worm, i’m never speaking to you again.” you respond. 
sukuna laughs, before giving you a nod, and leaning forward to close the distance before you. you can tell that he’s moving slow, tiny steps backing you up before you fall back onto the bed, and he’s hovering with his necklace dangling over you. 
and his voice is quiet as he peppers kisses into your cheek and neck, so soft it makes your stomach rumble. 
“just so you know, it does hurt the first time. need you to tell me, don’t feel embarrassed. and i –” 
“i know. i know, i will.” 
sukuna smiles, before hooking his fingers under the fabric of his t-shirt, before he carefully pulls it out from under you. and maybe it’s the sheer embarrassment that you went out of your way to buy lingerie – but you pinch your eyes shut when you catch the realization in his eyes. 
“up.” 
his voices comes out more gravelly than you’ve ever heard it, as you open your eyes, skin burning, as you give him a confused look. 
“sit up, doll. let me look at you.” he whispers, this time more fervent. 
you oblige, sitting up on the edge of the bed, as he kneels onto the ground, hands fixed on your waist, as he looks up at you. you cringe, shrinking your shoulders together, as you look down at him. 
“too much?” you ask. 
sukuna scoffs. 
“are you fucking crazy?” he responds, tone dripping with disbelief. 
sukuna stands up this time, pulling you up with him, as cradles your face with his hands, eyes so sickeningly sweet that it makes you smile. 
“my perfect girl. what did i do to deserve you, huh?” he murmurs. 
“what?” 
“the dinner, the candles. this fucking set you bought. you ruin me, you know that?” 
you shake your head, as he drops his hands, admiring the lace. and he lifts one of his fingers, making the gesture for you to spin, as you oblige, and get a barrage of kisses in response. 
“i’m obsessed, you know that? with this, with you, with your smell.” 
you smile, pulling his face out of the crook of your neck, as you shake your head, and he takes the hint to slow down. you relax into his arms, nervously toying with the buttons on his shirt, as you calm down, trying to ease the nerves, as he presses a chaste kiss to your forehead. 
“i’m guessing you…you like it?” 
“like it? i love it. it’s special to me.” he murmurs. 
you look up at him, as he drops his gaze to yours, lovingly running his hands through your hair. 
“really? you don’t think it’s cheesy right?” 
sukuna shakes his head. 
“s’really special. never had someone put in this much effort to make me feel special. i was supposed to be doing all of this for you, y’know? was planning it all out too.” 
“really?” 
“yeah. was gonna get you a whole weekend getaway for your birthday. whole rose petals on the bed and everything.” 
you laugh. 
“what the fuck is so funny? it’s romantic.” he complains. 
“no, no it’s so cute! but you have to let me be the romantic too sometimes. i wanted to do all of this for you…and me too. i mean, i just –” 
“i understand, princess. you’re perfect.” sukuna responds. 
you pause. 
“you can tell me if you don’t want this right now. i know i made us dinner and made it a whole thing with the outfit, but really, you don’t have to oblige just because i –” 
sukuna responds by closing the distance, lips warm against yours as he pushes you back onto the bed, for a second time. 
--
sukuna brings you two advils when you’re soaking in the bath. you can still feel your blood pulsating under your skin, the tiredness seeping into your bones as you lean back against the tile, with the warmth of the water relaxing your muscles. 
and you can’t help but feel your skin burn when he walks back in – unable to stop thinking about how his head was just nestled in between your legs, of all the sweet nothings leaving his mouth, and the gentle way he carried you here after running the bath for you. 
he crouches down by the side of the tub, holding his hand out for you as you oblige. he lifts the cup to your mouth, refusing to let you hold it, as you down the pills.
“i can’t hold my own glass now?” 
“it's aftercare. shut up.” 
he makes the motion to stand up and you reach out, slapping your wet hand around his wrist and pulling. 
“you okay?” 
“yeah. yeah, but can you stay?” 
sukuna nods, as he sits flat on the tile of the bathroom, leaning his head against the side of the bath. he was intent on giving you the time to process and relax, despite the fact that he wanted nothing more to stay there, to possibly never leave your side again, and is pleasantly surprised by your request. 
“bath okay?” he asks. 
“yeah. thanks. for the pills too.” 
“promise it’ll hurt less next time, yeah?” sukuna murmurs. 
you nod, poking at the little indents of his dimples. you can’t help but admire him, the lightest sheen of sweat still stuck to his forehead, at the arch of his back and the tattoos littered over his skin as he lazily places his hand in the water and lets the soap run through his fingers. 
“did you like it?” sukuna asks. 
“are you a nut job?” 
“i mean, what did you like? just so i keep it in mind for next time. s’my job to make you feel good, y’know?” 
you smile, before feeling your chest ache. 
“all of it.” you respond. 
sukuna shakes his head. 
“nope. specifics.” 
you lean back, absentmindedly running your hands through his hair, as you think it over. 
“well, i liked it when you would hold my hand. it made me feel really comfortable…and when you would ask before doing something different.” 
“uh huh. what else?” 
“um…the stuff you called me.” 
sukuna grins. 
“like what?” 
you groan. 
“you know…the usual stuff!” 
“you like it when i called you my good girl, right? when you were taking me so well?” sukuna asks. 
you can tell that he’s trying to irritate you and lightly splash the water at him. 
“sue me! i like to be praised by my boyfriend!” you respond, glaring at him. 
sukuna shakes his head at you, before reaching for your hands and pressing kisses to your knuckles. the spots he marked on your neck are starting to purple up now, as he reaches down for his own that you left. 
“i liked it when you did this.” sukuna responds. 
you smile. 
“i’ll cover it up before you go to work tomorrow.” 
“i liked all the pretty sounds you made. i go insane when you say my name.” 
you shake your head, before splashing the water at him. 
“quit it.” 
“really. i love it all. i love you.” 
you deflate. sammy’s comment from earlier, the harsh memory of him with his eye purpled over on your dining room table, runs through your mind, as you lean forward, and press a kiss to his shut eyelids. 
“yeah, yeah. i love you too.” 
sukuna smiles, before leaning forward and pressing a kiss to the top of your knee.
--
next part linked here
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bellaxgiornata · 5 months ago
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A Favor from the Devil |Chapter Five|
Pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!Mom!Reader Word Count: 4.5k [Series Masterlist]
Warnings/tags: 18+; Domestic abuse, depictions/mentions of sexual assault, struggles with past trauma, canon-typical violence, angst with a happy ending, friends to lovers, slow burn, eventual smut (possibly more warnings to come)
a/n: Another update to this little series that I'm really enjoying working on! Feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!
Tag list: @kee-0-kee @dethspllz @a-half-empty-g1rl @senjoritanana @kezibear @sleepysleepymom @danzer8705 @scriptedmoon @flowher @wanda-maxamommy @guccicloudz @loves0phelia @withasideofmeg @mattmurdock-wife24 @sarraa-26 @mylastarrival @mdanon027 @kmc1989 @abiisscared @dreamtofus @rebeccapineapple @peterman-spideyparker @littlenosoul @writtenbyred
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Rubbing at your tired eyes, they’d begun to burn from staring at your computer screen all day long. The mindless data entry you'd been doing for most of the day had been turning your brain to mush, your eyes frequently glancing down at the corner of your screen to check the time. You were dying for your shift to end so you could pick Evie up from preschool and go relax at home for the evening. 
Secretly you were also hoping to hear that her second week at preschool had started off better than her first. You'd already been told by her teacher that she'd been very quiet all of last week, barely speaking unless she absolutely needed to. And it sounded like her lack of speech was affecting her opportunities for making friends in her class, which had only broken your heart to hear. Because every mother just wanted their kids to succeed and be happy, yet here your daughter was seemingly miserable and struggling. 
Jaw tightening, your eyelids slowly lowered. All your fault , the voice in your head reminded you. She's like this because of you .
“If I have to stare at a spreadsheet any longer I'm going to lose my damn mind.”
Your eyes flew back open at the familiar voice of Amira behind you. She'd become your only real friend in the city ever since you’d moved here and gotten your job and you always welcomed a free moment to chat with her at work.
Pushing your chair away from your small desk, you turned it around to see her leaning against the entrance to your cubicle. She was raising a mug of steaming tea up to her lips which were stained a dark purple today. 
“Gary in the bathroom?” you asked her.
Swallowing down her sip of tea, she nodded before a grin spread on her face. “Of course he is,” she told you. “I swear that man shits at the same time every day.”
Biting your lip, you fought down a laugh. She wasn't wrong, though. Your boss always kept a tight schedule–even when it came to his bathroom breaks. 
“Gives us time to catch up, though,” she said. “And I hope your weekend was more eventful than mine because I did nothing but clean and wished I'd won the lottery so I didn’t have to come back to this damn place.”
You shrugged in response. “Not really anything interesting to share on my end,” you told her. “Found a park near our building that I brought Evie to play at. Did some cleaning and some grocery shopping, then I brought Evie to the library for Sunday morning story time. That's about it.”
“Hmm,” Amira hummed out, glancing down at her mug as she tapped a finger thoughtfully along the side of it. “Sounds about as eventful as my weekend.”
You watched as she brought the mug to her lips and took another drink. As she did, your eyes slid over to the clock on the wall behind her. You still had twenty minutes left.
“What about your love life?” Amira asked. “Anything more going on with that?”
A bitter laugh fell out of you as your attention returned to Amira. Shaking your head, you tried to stifle the humorless sound.
“You know I'm not looking for a relationship,” you reminded her. “That's the absolute last thing I want right now.”
“So you mean to tell me if some man asked you out, you wouldn't even consider it?” she asked. “I mean, I'm sure you've got needs, you know?”
You glanced down at your hands that were now fidgeting in your lap. “That's not exactly a priority in my life anymore,” you told her. “And I'm not sure I could even trust someone to get that close again anyway. Besides, the only man who's taken an interest in me is my weird neighbor from across the hall.”
“Oh?” Amira asked, instantly perking up. “Why's he weird?”
“I don't know, I somehow just keep running into him,” you answered with another shrug. “It's just odd. And he's always so…friendly?”
“Like friendly friendly?” she asked. “Or like I'm-going-to-peep-through-your-panty-drawer-when-you're-not-home friendly?”
You shook your head, your mind returning to your neighbor and that damn charming smile of his that he always threw your way. You still weren't entirely sure what to make of him. He'd seemed sincerely concerned when you'd encountered him on the roof that one night, even though you figured there was no way he could know that it was you he'd talked to briefly. And he had brought you that lasagna, which as weird as that had been, you couldn't deny it wasn't a nice gesture. Assuming it really was a no strings attached lasagna.
“I don't know,” you answered. “I haven't exactly figured it out, but I'm also not really interested in trying to, either. As long as he leaves Evie and I alone, I don't really care. But he…brought us a lasagna last week.”
“He did what now?” Amira asked, suddenly straightening up. 
“He brought us over an entire lasagna,” you repeated. “Apparently he's a lawyer that does a lot of pro bono work in Hell's Kitchen and I guess his firm often gets paid in food? So he brought us a literal whole lasagna.”
Amira's head tilted to the side, her eyes narrowing curiously back at you as her finger began tapping against her mug again.
“Is he one of the men from Nelson, Murdock, and Page?” she questioned.
“That sounds about right,” you answered.
“Alright girl, now you need to tell me which man it is. Nelson or Murdock?” she pressed. “Cause they are both fine as hell and I've only ever heard good things about them.”
“Murdock, I think?” you answered, brow furrowing in thought. “He said his name was Matthew?”
Amira let out a long, low whistle that only had the crease between your furrowed brows growing. A bright smile lit up her face immediately at the look of confusion that landed on your own. 
“Are you telling me,” she began, “that Matthew Murdock, the hottest lawyer in the goddamn Kitchen with a heart as big as his ass, is your weird and friendly neighbor?”
“Yes?” you replied hesitantly. 
Amira barked out a laugh, shaking her head. “I would let that man peep through my panty drawer while I'm home if he was my neighbor. Are you kidding me? That man is sexy as hell and with all the things I've heard about him in bed?”
You pulled a face at her comment, your nose immediately scrunching up. If his sexual prowess had somehow landed in your co-worker’s ears then you could only imagine what that said about him. Good in bed or not, that definitely didn’t brighten your view of the man.
“So he sleeps around, I assume?” you asked her, a look of disdain still on your face. “Because then I can completely assure you that he's absolutely not my type.”
Amira sent you a stern, serious look, her laughter immediately fading. “I think he'd be great for you, actually,” she said matter-of-factly. “He's a kind-hearted man who'd fuck you senseless and then leave you be. What more could you want?”
“The just being left alone part?” you half-joked. “Seriously, I don't care what he looks like or how good in bed he is, I don't want anyone, Mira. I've got enough on my mind as it is.”
“You're right,” she agreed, tone softening. “In all seriousness, how've you been holding up?”
Leaning back in your chair, you exhaled a long sigh. You were close with Amira, and she understood quite a bit about your situation, but you still weren't about to be entirely honest with her. It wasn’t necessary for her to know absolutely everything about your past.
“I've been alright,” you answered. “Things are going as good as they can, I guess. Wish this job would give me a raise so I could afford living here, but I'm making it work.”
“How're the nightmares?” Amira asked.
You shrugged. “I don't think Evie is having nightmares exactly, they're more like–”
“I meant you,” she cut in, shooting you a knowing look. “I imagine you have them, considering what you’ve been through.”
You could feel your throat closing up and your mouth going dry at the fact that she’d been able to see right through you so easily. How she kept managing to do that remained a mystery to you. Hands beginning to tug at the hem of your blouse, your attention returned to where they fidgeted once more in your lap. 
“I'm–I'm fine,” you lied. “I'm managing.”
“You know, I think you'd benefit from some self-defense classes,” Amira said slowly. “Probably make you feel a whole lot safer at least. Have you considered something like that?”
“You know I can't afford self-defense classes,” you told her quietly. “I'm lucky to pay rent on time and put some food on the table as it is. Anything extra goes to Evie.”
Amira opened her mouth, clearly about to say more, but her eyes darted over the top of your cubicle. A frown settled on her lips as her eyes narrowed and you immediately recognized what that look meant.
“Appears his bathroom break is over,” she grumbled, pushing off of your cubicle wall. “Guess that's my cue to pretend I'm busy until we can get the hell out of here.”
You sent her a strained smile before she ducked out of your cubicle. Slowly turning your chair around back towards your desk, you sighed in defeat as your work glared back at you on the screen. Eyes darting down to the clock on your computer, your shoulders dropped when you saw you still had fifteen minutes left. 
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The elevator felt like it was moving exceptionally slow this evening, partly because you were eager to get back to your apartment and change out of your work clothes already, and partly because the lift had been fairly crowded tonight with everyone else coming home from work. 
As you impatiently waited for the elevator to make its multiple stops on its ascent to the top floor, Evie silently held your hand, her eyes remaining fixed on the numbers changing above the doors each time it stopped at a new floor. She’d barely spoken more than four times on your entire walk home. From what you’d gathered from the lopsided conversation, this week of preschool had started off about the same as her previous one, which had only further dampened your mood after the long day at work. So when the doors of the elevator had finally opened onto the sixth floor and you’d stepped out of it with Evie in tow, you weren't thrilled to see that not only was your strange, friendly neighbor in the hallway, but he was in the hallway with two other people. 
Your hand gripped Evie’s tighter in yours as you reluctantly began to make your way down the hall towards your apartment and inevitably towards the small group that was chatting in front of your neighbor’s door. You desperately hoped you’d be able to get away with just giving them a polite smile before ducking inside your apartment, but your hopes were dashed the moment the pretty blonde woman on your neighbor’s left spotted you passing the door to 6C and making your way ever closer to them. 
“Oh, Matt, I think your neighbor is actually home!” she exclaimed. “What perfect timing!”
Briefly pausing midstep, your eyes grew wide in fright at being acknowledged by the little group. What could they possibly have wanted with you ? Trying to regain your composure, you plastered a stiff smile on your face, but your pulse increased the second your neighbor’s covered gaze fixed on you. It felt as if he was looking right at you, almost as if he knew exactly where you were walking as you finished making your way down the hallway. The gentleman on his other side turned at the waist, focusing his attention on you next. You wished that you could drag Evie straight through the wall into your apartment with how uncomfortable all three sets of eyes were currently making you feel. You heard Matthew say your name and the hair on your forearms rose at the impending conversation.
“Yeah?” you answered awkwardly, pausing in front of your door.
Directly across the hall, Matthew took one step towards you before holding out a hand. Eyes darting down at what he was offering you, your brows shot up onto your forehead in surprise when you noticed it was a plate of peanut butter cookies covered in cling wrap. Beside you, you heard the excited inhale from Evie just before she began ecstatically tugging at your hand. 
So he hadn’t forgotten the cookies he’d mentioned to your daughter a few days ago when he had dropped off that lasagna. You’d entirely expected him to, but now you supposed you’d at least give him credit for not crushing her hopes. She’d certainly excitedly mentioned the cookies he’d promised to you a few times over the duration of the weekend, and you’d tried your best to prepare her for disappointment when he inevitably forgot that he’d ever brought them up. But here he was proving you wrong and not disappointing your daughter like so many others would have.
“If I recall,” Matthew began, a broad smile on his face, “I think I owe someone peanut butter cookies today. If that’s still alright with your mother, of course.”
Evie’s head immediately darted up in your direction, her eyes big and pleading. “Please, mama?”
You knew there was absolutely no way you were about to deny her and decline the baked goods, especially after having already agreed to accept them in the first place. Trying to maintain that strained smile on your face, you briefly released Evie’s hand and cautiously took the two steps across the hall to accept the plate from Matthew’s outstretched hand. Your heart was pounding loudly in your ears the whole time, your body begging you to just get inside and away from this situation already. 
“Thank you,” you replied quietly, taking those two steps immediately backwards towards your door and grabbing Evie’s hand again. “I know Evie appreciates that you remembered her.”
Matthew had opened his mouth to reply, but your daughter shocked the both of you when she spoke before he’d even had the opportunity to get a single word out. Your eyes flew to her in surprise the moment you’d heard her voice.
“Thank you, Mr. Murdock,” she said.
For a second you stood there dumbfounded, holding the plate of cookies in one hand as you stared down at your daughter. She had intentionally raised her voice when she'd spoken, speaking loud enough to be heard–something that wasn't common for your daughter because she often spoke so softly whenever she did speak. As you openly gaped down at her, you saw that she was even smiling up at him, wearing a smile so bright you couldn’t even recall the last time you’d seen one like it on her face. 
“You’re very welcome, Evie,” Matthew replied, having focused on the place where she stood when she’d spoken. “Maybe another day I can bring you something else from the office. Assuming, of course, your mother is okay with it.”
His attention returned to you and you immediately began shaking your head. Whatever this was, you weren't about to begin accepting his constant charity. Or worse–to feel like you owed him something in return after the conversation you'd had with Amira earlier today. You absolutely weren’t about to sleep with your neighbor to thank him for his kindness.
“Oh, no, really,” you began, “This was plenty already. You don't need to bring us anything else.”
“Mrs. Anderson makes a mean cherry pie,” the gentleman beside Matthew said, drawing your eyes towards him. “You might not want to say no until you’ve tasted it. It will quite literally change the way you see the world.”
You shot him a tight, friendly smile as you once more shook your head. “I’m sure it’s great,” you continued politely, “but really, that’s alright. We don’t–”
“Who’s that?” 
You stopped short at the sound of Evie’s question. Head shifting over your shoulder, you saw Evelynn’s little hand pointing across the hall. Following her finger’s path, you saw she was pointing at a newspaper partially folded beneath the blonde woman’s arm. The woman looked startled before she glanced down at the newspaper tucked against her body. 
“Oh,” she exclaimed softly, slowly beginning to pull it out from beneath her arm.
She glanced down at the front page before exchanging a look with the man on Matthew’s left immediately afterwards. Something strange and tense seemed to settle among the three of them as they stood across the hall from you. Clearing her throat, the woman quickly plastered a smile on her face before she turned, bending partially over and holding out the picture on the front page of the paper for Evie to see. 
“You mean the man in this photograph?” she asked. 
Evie nodded quickly, her eyes wide and glued to the image that you couldn’t quite see at this angle. 
“That’s Daredevil,” the woman answered.
You briefly caught a note of something strange in the way she’d replied, but the thought completely left your mind when Evie whipped around towards you, her finger still pointing to the paper.
“That’s him, mama!” she shouted. 
Pulling a face, you shook your head in confusion. “That’s who, cricket?” you asked.
“The man!” she exclaimed. “On the roof!”
“What?” you asked.
The woman straightened, a smile on her lips as she showed you the paper. Your eyes narrowed, squinting at the dark and somewhat blurry image of a man in a costume crouched on a roof. You could vaguely make out the shape of something like horns on his helmet. 
Eyes flying up toward the woman, panic rose within you. If this psycho was real, then there really was a man out on the rooftops that your daughter had been seeing. Which was a completely horrifying thought.
“Who is that?” you nearly demanded. “The deranged man running around in a devil suit?”
“Oh, uh,” the woman stammered, clearly taken by surprise. “Daredevil isn’t–he's not crazy. He's just uh–”
“Kind of like a superhero who beats up bad guys,” the man next to Matthew quickly cut in. “Though technically he is considered a vigilante.”
Quirking a brow at him, you shook your head in disbelief. “A superhero vigilante?” you asked skeptically. “What do you mean?”
“He’s known to protect Hell’s Kitchen,” your neighbor’s smooth voice cut in, your eyes drawn back towards him. “You don’t have to be afraid of him, though. I can assure you, it’s well known that he’s never harmed anyone that wasn’t a criminal.”
“I’m sorry,” you said, eyes narrowing at him, “but there’s a madman dressed as a devil running around on the rooftops near my daughter’s bedroom at night and you think I have nothing to worry about?”
“He’s more like a protector, not a lunatic!” the other man told you. “He protects the people of Hell’s Kitchen specifically. He’s rescued all kinds of people from human traffickers, he’s stopped various gangs–”
“He even saved my life,” the blonde added, a hesitant smile on her face. “Once or twice.”
“And he’s helped our law firm put bad men away,” your neighbor said. “I can assure you, he’s not a danger to you or your daughter. No matter how…startling it is to hear your daughter say that she’s seen him outside of her window.”
Jaw tightening, your eyes darted around the three of them, scrutinizing them closely. It was strange how quick they were to defend this costumed lunatic. You also weren’t thrilled at the prospect of a violent man running around outside your apartment at night while you and your daughter slept. How were you supposed to believe his violence was any different than Daniel’s? How could you trust he wouldn’t break into your apartment and hurt either of you? How could you know he was safe?
“I told you.” 
Evie’s small voice broke through your thoughts, your attention returning down towards her. She was smiling proudly up at you, the sight only further confusing you.
“Told me what, cricket?” you asked.
“He protects us,” she answered.
Frowning, you found you weren’t entirely sure what to make of the masked vigilante that this city seemed to respect, especially after the comments these three had made. And you didn’t quite understand why your daughter wasn’t afraid of him and repeatedly kept seeing him at night–something that made you more uncomfortable now knowing he wasn’t imaginary. 
But you knew there was nothing you or the three people across from you could do about this Daredevil, and you really wanted to end this interaction already. Clearing your throat, you glanced back over at Matthew. There was a conflicted twist to the shape of his mouth, the corners a bit downturned. You ignored it, the feeling of your growing panic the only thing that mattered right now.
“Thank you for the cookies,” you said tersely, “but I should probably get Evie inside and make dinner. I hope you have a good evening.”
You turned your back on the three of them, releasing Evie’s hand so you could dig the apartment key out of your purse. In a hurry you began to unlock your apartment door, not remotely surprised when you heard your neighbor behind you.
“I hope you both enjoy your evening as well,” he replied. “And like I said, I’m just across the hall if you ever need anything.”
Biting the inside of your cheek, you pushed your door open without a backwards glance or another word. You ushered Evie quickly inside your apartment before you darted in after her, locking the door and the deadbolt behind you.
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“Seriously, man?” Foggy asked in exasperation. “Her little girl has already been seeing you out on the roof? They’ve only been here a week, Matt! You need to be more careful!”
“I thought I was being careful!” Matt shot back, pacing in front of his apartment windows with his hands on his hips. “I didn’t think she’d caught me the first night when I’d been on their fire escape, but she must be seeing me when I’m heading back home at night.”
“You do need to be more cautious,” Karen warned from the couch. “You don’t need her to see you heading back into your apartment. That could be dangerous.”
Foggy let out a low groan, his body slumping forward in one of the armchairs. Matt ran a hand across his mouth, feeling a little rush of panic inside of himself. He really hadn’t realized your daughter had been so aware of him coming home in the evenings. She was surprisingly observant. 
“The last thing we need,” Foggy complained, “is for your neighbor to realize who Daredevil really is and to take that information to the authorities. That’s dangerous information that could get you killed, Matt. Or disbarred and imprisoned. Hell, it could get all of us disbarred and sent to prison!”
Matt shook his head, still continuing his pacing. “That won’t happen, Fog. I won’t let it, don’t worry,” he assured him.
“Well,” Karen began slowly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ears, “at least her daughter trusts Daredevil. Even if her mother thinks he’s batshit crazy. I suppose that’s something. I don’t know what, but it’s something.”
“Not helping,” Matt grumbled. “I don’t need her to be more terrified in her apartment than she already is. I imagine her being put further on edge won’t make it any easier for me to get closer to her.”
“Matt, buddy, did you ever think that maybe she won’t want your help?” Foggy questioned. “Maybe you should just, I don’t know, let this one go? You can’t help everyone, dude. I mean, she seemed pretty cold at the end of that conversation out there.”
“She seemed scared,” Karen softly corrected, her attention focusing on Foggy. “She was scared, not cold, Foggy. There’s a difference.”
Matt came to a stop at the edge of his rug, his hands readjusting the waistband of his dress pants. He’d felt your fear the moment your daughter had recognized Daredevil as the man she’d apparently been seeing at night in that newspaper. It was just as strong of a rush of the feeling through your body as when you’d first seen him in the hallway. Daredevil terrified you.
“Karen’s right,” Matt told Foggy. “I could feel her fear. Someone has her afraid. And the thought of some other violent man running around the city at night only seemed to scare her further. Something is going on, and I’m not going to stop until I figure out what.”
“Dude–”
“ No ,” Matt nearly growled the word out, immediately quieting Foggy. “Don’t you tell me to let this go. They’re a part of Hell’s Kitchen, Fog. And I’m going to make sure they’re safe. Because no one hurts the people of my city. I won’t allow it.”
“Alright,” Foggy relented, nodding his head slowly. “Okay. I hear you, Matt. I just worry you’re going to drive her away in your best attempts to do the opposite is all. She seems quite set on keeping you at a distance.”
Foggy wasn’t wrong. Matt knew you were repeatedly pushing him away at every opportunity he took to get closer. And he was afraid of pushing a little too hard and having the opposite effect of what he was after. But your daughter, somehow, seemed to be reacting to him differently now. That first night when you’d both run into him in the hall after moving in, she’d matched your terror. But tonight…he hadn’t felt her fear towards him. Or towards Karen and Foggy. Though you were still putting your walls up. 
“He protects us.”
Your daughter’s words about Matt’s alter ego ran through his mind. She’d been so positive in that thought, he’d read it in the tone of her voice and the steady beat of her heart. She wasn’t afraid of Daredevil, not like you appeared to be. And hearing that from a scared little girl had somehow further softened him to the both of you in that moment. This was quickly becoming less a matter of Matt trying to do the right thing while attempting to keep the people of his city safe, and instead steadily becoming something personal to him. Even if he didn’t fully understand why exactly that was himself.
“I’ll figure it out,” Matt murmured, running a hand across his forehead. “Somehow, I’ll figure out how to get them to let me in so I can help.”
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chvoswxtch · 11 months ago
Text
an adjustment
pairing: frank castle x fem!reader
summary: adjusting to a new normal with frank presents a few challenges, including one you thought you had put to rest.
warnings: swearing, lil angst, frank's voice (yes that needs a warning)
word count: 2.6k
a/n: a certain someone is making a cameo that will have a bigger role in the next chapter, but y'all know I love to tease. ;) as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!
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As much as the two of you wanted to stay in the cozy little bubble that existed in his cabin, reality had come knocking. Madani informed you that your place was no longer an active crime scene decorated in bodies, bullets, and blood, and Billy needed Frank for a new assignment. Some guy running for Senator had a lot of controversial opinions that pissed a bunch of people off and apparently warranted 24/7 security, and Anvil was at the top of his list for protection. Since Frank was the best at what he did, unfortunately he was at the top of that list too. Adjusting to a new normal had been…well…just that; an adjustment.
A difficult, confusing, thought consuming adjustment.
For over half of the past year, Frank had been by your side. You started and ended every single day with him. The sudden absence of his presence was jarring, and you still found yourself immediately confused when you glanced up from your computer screen to tell him something only to realize he wasn’t there. Frank didn’t always talk a whole lot, but your office suddenly felt so much more quiet and empty without him. And despite a full blown security system installed by him on your behalf, it was hard for you to feel safe in your own home with the lingering scars of what had happened etched into the walls beneath a layer of new paint. 
Frank called you at least once every day, just to hear your voice, but between both of your complicated schedules, time was not in your favor. You had spent the past three weeks adapting to Frank’s vacancy, but found yourself spiraling anytime you were left alone with your own thoughts. What if this was over before it had even really started? What if it wasn't anything anyway? There hadn’t been a moment for you and Frank to sit down and actually talk about what your relationship was since the cabin. You know what it meant to you, and you knew what you wanted it to mean to him, but you wanted to hear what it meant to him from his own mouth. 
A part of you felt childish for wanting to bring it up. What were you supposed to do? Send him a text saying “are you my boyfriend, check yes or no”? Another part of you felt valid in needing reassurance. It was reasonable to want to establish a relationship with someone you were dating. But were you and Frank dating? He hadn’t technically asked you out on an actual date, but he had risked his life to save yours on several occasions. That had to count for something. You hadn’t dated anyone seriously since Steven, and Frank was not only a widower, but also your former bodyguard, so the normal rules of dating felt like they had been completely thrown out the window.
A knock at the door abruptly pulled you out of your chaotically indecisive inner monologue, and you saw a guy that appeared to be fresh out of high school standing in the doorway of your office.
“You Y/N Y/L/N?”
“Uh yeah, that’s me. How can I help you?”
The kid took a few steps forward into your office and practically shoved a sealed brown envelope in your face. He looked bored and annoyed, as if you were somehow inconveniencing him because he had to deliver something to you. It made you want to make a snide comment about how your name was clearly listed outside your office door and ask how the hell he managed to graduate without the ability to read. 
“This is for you.”
Reaching for the envelope, your brows pinched together as you turned it over. There was nothing written on the front of it, no address, no name, not even a stamp.
“What is it?”
“I don’t know, lady. I’m just the messenger. Open it and find out.”
Before you could reply with a smartass comment, the kid had already walked out of your office, leaving you alone with the mysterious brown envelope. Clenching your jaw, you refrained from chasing him down the hall and asking who the hell raised him. Letting out a deep exhale through your nose, you had to remind yourself that you were a grown woman that would face charges for decking a teenager, even if he was legal and a complete dick.
“Asshole.”
Muttering under your breath, you pinched the aluminum prongs together on the seal, flipping the top of the envelope open to reach inside and pull out a stack of documents. When you turned them over, five big bold letters instantly caught your attention.
LETTER OF INTENT TO SUE.
During your time as a journalist, people had threatened to sue you over stories several times. It came with the territory. The first time you had gotten a letter like this, you nearly had a complete meltdown. Ben had found it far more amusing than you did, leaning back in his chair with a smug grin on his face while sipping at his coffee and chuckling.
“Ah, I remember my first lawsuit letter. You get used to ‘em. You can either frame that one or forward that to the uh legal department. It’s in the blue recycling bin outside.”
And he had been right. People had tried to sue the paper, and you specifically, several times over the course of your career, but nothing ever actually went anywhere. You normally wouldn’t have thought twice about it, and you were about to toss it into the trash bin on the floor next to your desk when your eyes skimmed over who sent the letter, and your blood instantly began to sizzle.
“You have got to be fucking kidding me.”
Steven fucking Price.
Gritting your teeth harshly, you narrowed your eyes as you read over the first paragraph on the page.
This letter of intent to sue shall hereby be considered formal notice that STEVEN PRICE intends to file a lawsuit against you if you do not comply with the settlement demands set out in this letter.
The storm of anger brewing inside you had your hands shaking violently, and you were clutching onto the paper in your hands so tightly that your fingernails had left indents in the crinkled sides that were held captive in your vice grip. When Homeland took him away in custody, you thought that was the last you would ever have to deal with him or see him until the trial. But here he was, still making demands of you, from federal prison. 
Frank’s gruff voice sounded on the other end of the line after one ring before you even realized you had called him.
“He’s fucking suing me.”
“What? Who?”
“Steven.”
There was a brief shuffling noise on the other end of the line, and you faintly heard Frank mutter an “excuse me” before his deep baritone sounded once again in your ear.
“The hell you mean he’s suin’ you?”
“Some kid came and dropped off an envelope, who was a real dick by the way, and then I opened it and saw it’s a letter of intent to sue. I didn’t think anything of it at first because I get these all the time, but then I saw his fucking name.”
“Suin’ you for what though?”
Tossing the documents onto your desk, you began to pace back and forth in your office as you ran your hand through the roots of your hair in pure frustration.
“I don’t fucking know, a load of bullshit? I didn’t even read what his ‘demands’ were. He can’t…he can’t do that, right? I didn’t do anything.”
Pausing for a second, your hysterical rant subsided momentarily as one possible reason for a lawsuit popped into your head.
“I mean…I did punch him in the face. But he’s going to sue me for that? There’s no fucking way. Putting it on public record that a girl half his size punched him? His ego couldn’t handle it.”
“You did break his nose.”
“He fucking deserved it, I should’ve broken more.”
Frank’s deep chuckle of amusement sounded from the other end of the line, and it instantly made you forget what you were so pissed about for a brief moment.
“I ain’t disagreein’ with you there. Look, take a deep breath, sweetheart. Can you do that for me?”
Letting out a deep exhale through your nose, you closed your eyes for a moment and enjoyed the soft tone of Frank’s rough voice as you followed his gentle instruction. With your eyes closed, it was almost like he was there with you. Once Frank could hear your breathing even out a bit on the other end of the line, he spoke in a delicately low tone that had your toes curling in your shoes.
“Attagirl. Send me the letter and I’ll talk to Madani ‘bout it, yeah?”
“I don’t even have a lawyer-”
“Don’t worry ‘bout that right now, alright? Just take another deep breath, relax, and let me handle it.”
“You’re always handling things.”
“That’s kinda my job, baby.”
One little pet name and you were blushing like a schoolgirl with her first crush. Thankfully Frank wasn’t in your office at that moment to see the intense heat in your cheeks and the goofy smile splitting your lips. He would’ve definitely had a field day teasing you about it.
“You’re pretty good at your job. Maybe a little too good. If you were kinda sucky at it, everyone wouldn’t want you so bad.”
“The only one I want bad is you.”
A fluttering feeling erupted in your lower belly at those words, coupled with the way his voice had dropped an impossible octave lower, and you found yourself clutching at the edge of your desk to keep your knees from giving out right from under you. If Frank was here, you would’ve gladly let him bend you over it.
Clearing your throat, you attempted to change the subject before you got too worked up. 
“How’s the new guy?”
Grabbing the iced coffee sitting on your desk, you held it against the heated skin of your neck. Droplets of the cool condensation slowly cascaded down your flesh, causing you to shiver while trying to balance your internal temperature.
“Not as pretty as you.”
Letting out a soft snort, you rolled your eyes and leaned back against the edge of your desk.
“Well I would hope not.”
Frank chuckled deeply again, and you could clearly picture the look on his face in your mind; an expression of playful exasperation with a faint smirk on the edge of his soft lips.
“He’s more of a pain in the ass than you. Didn’t think that was possible.”
“You’re really great at this whole flirting thing, you know that?”
The dry sarcasm in your voice didn’t go unnoticed by Frank, and it tore a deeper laugh from low within his chest that made you grin.
“Hey, I been outta practice for a while. Gimme a break.”
“Speaking of flirting, how’s Billy?”
“He’s uh…he’s good.”
Something about Frank’s tone suddenly seemed off, and you wanted to ask him about it, but there was a faint rustling on the other end of the line, like Frank was pressing the speaker against his chest, and you could barely make out his muffled voice speaking to someone. When he lifted his phone back to his ear, you caught the end of a deep sigh.
“Listen I uh…I gotta go, sweetheart.”
“Yeah, me too.”
That was a lie. You didn’t have anything pressing deadlines at the moment. You would’ve stayed on the phone for the rest of the day with Frank if you could’ve, maybe convinced him to sneak away and come see you. He was still in New York, luckily, but anywhere that wasn’t right next to you was still too far. 
“Send me the letter. I’ll talk to Madani and take care of it, alright?”
“Okay. I…thank you.”
“You ain’t gotta thank me.”
“You keep saying that, but then you keep giving me reasons to. So, we can have this argument until eventually you give up I guess.”
Frank chuckled deeply once more, and you could picture him in your mind shaking his head with a light grin. He sounded normal again, but you made a mental note to ask him about what was really going on when you spoke to him next.
“Same time tomorrow then, yeah?”
»»———  ———««
According to Madani, Steven didn’t have a case, and you technically had nothing to worry about. However, you were admittedly curious about what the hell he wanted, and Frank had said that if you did want to go talk to Steven, he would go with you. Actually, he respectfully insisted that you not see Steven without him present, and while you didn’t want to see Steven at all, you did want to see Frank.
You suffered through almost three years with Steven. You could suffer another five minutes if it meant you got to spend time with Frank.
It wasn’t your first time visiting a prison. A few years ago when you were still working with Ben, he had been interviewing a death row inmate that had been declaring innocence for fifteen years, and Ben had managed to prove that the evidence for his case had been tampered with and that the man had been telling the truth the entire time. Despite how daunting it felt to be in a place that kept violent people caged like animals, you felt safe with Ben then, much like you did with Frank now.
Currently, you were pacing back and forth down the hallway in pure irritation.
“What is taking so long?”
Frank had his arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the wall outside of the meeting room that was typically reserved for inmates and their lawyers. The guard had said he would bring Steven in shortly, but that was twenty minutes ago. Since Frank had met you at the prison, and due to all the prying eyes, you hadn’t had a private moment to do more than smile at him when he arrived. It was the first time you were able to see him in person in three and a half weeks, and he somehow looked even more attractive than he ever had, and you were being forced to endure an interaction with your ex, who tried to have you killed, just to get Frank alone.
It was torture.
“Told ‘em we’re waitin’ on your lawyer.”
Pausing mid-step, you glanced over at Frank with a look of complete puzzlement.
“I don’t have a lawyer, I told you that.”
As Frank turned his head to look at you, he suddenly lifted his gaze to stare directly above your head as someone behind you caught his eye. He stood up straight and uncrossed his arms as he gestured with his chin in the direction behind you.
“You do now.”
With your brows knit in threads of confusion towards the center of your forehead, a light tapping sound behind you caused your ears to perk up, and you turned your head to find the source of the noise and Frank’s attention.
“Miss Y/L/N, my name is Matthew Murdock. I’m your attorney.”
tags: @thyme-in-a-bubble @day-dreaming-goddess @messymissy @itwasthereaminuteago @strawberry1042 @queenofthenoobs @wanda2themax @xcastawayherosx @avengerstower-houseplant @stevenknightmarc @ponyosmom35 @babygal-babygal @wellwwhynot @oldermenaremyreligion @combustiblemeow @tired-night-owl @fairykiss32 @danzer8705 @calkissed @fxckahs-blog @lemon-world1 @polskiperson @imperihoe @v4leoftears @harperdoodle @spideyvibez @joalslibrary @cherry-berry-ollie @sorrowfulfragmentation @kdogreads @sumo-b98 @blackhawkfanatic @gloryekaterina @whistle1whistle @starbritestarlite @callmebrooklynbabes @hallway5 @scarletfvckingwitch @bifuriouslatina @soupyspence @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @wonwoosthetic @linguist-breakaribecca @nerdytreeflower @mrs-bellingham @smhnxdiii @s3riou2 @slavic-empress
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