#i love this so bad this was so comforting

[madamechrissy]

Pour it Up

Pairings: Stripclub Owner Sukuna x Stripper F!reader

Summary:- You are a single mother, your baby daddy is not just worthless, he also is actively trying to sabotoge you, so you go out on your own and raise your kid by yourself. Struggling your ass off, a friend of a friend named Toji decides to offer you a hell of a deal, a few hours a night at a strip club to make BANK. While there, you meet the other owner, Sukuna, and the moment he sees you? You annoy him how beautiful you are, how much he wants you, pushing him to insanity. He knows he must have you- no matter whose ass he needs to beat.

Warnings:- reader is a mom, lowkey/highkey Yandere Sukuna behavior (He's obsessed- down bad) recreational drug use, drug dealing Sukuna (the club lowkey a front lol) Mafia ties, EXPLICIT sexual content, fluff/smut AND light angst- violence, some former trauma of reader. This part- mentally/emotionally abusive Naoya, Sukuna is possessive, violence, mafia ties, a lil bit of smut in here- whipped ass Kuna- he whimpers hehe- angst smut AND fluff - WC-6.2k

Based on Stripclub Owner Sukuna - will be six or more parts- I HIGHLY recommend the playlist (esp on the club scenes) That mobster art in the banner is by Sketch B on X- LINK

<<<Part Three Playlist Masterlist Part Five>>> (coming Soon)

Part Four

“I’m outside, sweetheart, wanna let me in?” Your heart hammers in your chest, as Touma is tilting his head curiously, you bolt up to sit straight, feeling sick to your stomach as his cat-like tone works its way into your mind.

“What!?” You demand quietly, standing as you head towards the door, you’ve rarely ever had him come here, he’s been so uninvolved aside from his never ending calls or texts, which were just taunts truly.

“You heard me, honey, I’d love to come see you. Wonder what you’re wearing hmm?”

You hang up the phone, disgust making bile rise in your throat, turning to Touma then and bending low on your knees, brushing back his hair gently. “Hey baby, let Mama talk to him, hmm?”

“But will daddy upset Mama?” He asks, breaking you slowly into pieces, you take a shaky breath, plastering on a smile.

“No way, I’ll be good! Promise. But I want you to stay inside, will you do that for me?”

“Of course! I'm a big boy.”

“You are!” You snatch up a cardigan, you’re literally in a crop top and shorts, the last thing you need is him to tear apart you showing the stretch marks he loves to shit on you for, for being comfortable with your body, that gives him more power over you.

You open the door and see him, sleazy smile on his face, those narrowed brown eyes raking down your figure as you shut the door behind you, looking directly at him with a scowl. He chuckles, grinning with sharp canines as the sun that should be warming your skin makes you so hot you feel faint, blood pressure rising and rising to where you can’t breathe.

“Naoya. Need something?” You whisper, he leans a hand on the door, right by your head, the other brushing back your hair, you itch to smack him but you’re terrified, knowing more and more of what he does.

“Not a nice greeting sweetheart, where’s my kiss?”

“You’re not getting one ever again.” He laughs harshly, dragging you to him then by your waist, and you shove at his chest. “Back off.”

“No way to talk to me, maybe I should occupy your stupid fucking mouth, huh?” You glare and smack him right in the face then, earning him pinning your wrist brutally to the door. “Gonna put your hands on me?”

“You’re not gonna kiss me, ever agin. Stop it, you’re making a scene!”

“Then let me in, huh?”

“No. I’m not letting you scare Touma.” Naoya rubs his red cheek, letting your wrist go now, eyes trailing down your body once more, tugging at your cardigan, seeing the marks Sukuna left, glaring.

“And just what are these?” He touches your neck, making you shiver, pushing his hand off once more.

“None of your business, Naoya.”

“Gonna get marked up like some whore?”

“Says the man who had women bent over tables in front of me?” You counter, raising a brow, as Naoya tilts your chin up, touch so vile compared to Sukuna’s that you wonder how you ever really did it with him.

“If you would’ve tried harder, maybe I wouldn’t have had to. Served your man a little more, appreciated all I did.”

You scoff now, eyes narrowing. “All you did was down me, make me feel like shit, and blame me for your infidelity instead of just taking responsibility. And I served you plenty, you sure didn’t.”

“Didn’t what?”

“Get me off.”

He snorts, rolling his eyes and adjusting his suit jacket. “Oh really? You’re playing that?”

“It’s not a game, I know you didn’t.”

“And you’re gonna stand here looking so satisfied, for what?”

“Because I’m happy for once, you can’t stand it, can you?” You whisper, only for him to press your back against the door, hovering over you, for all his faults he’s never hit you, but your eyes go wide, tummy flipping so much you feel sick, you’re dying to just be in Sukuna’s arms suddenly. 

It’s an insane thought, too much too soon, but fuck you want him to hold you, to tell you it’ll all be okay, to feel him cup your face with one of his big hands, that make you feel so safe. You close your eyes for just a moment, trying to gather yourself, as Naoya continues to spit his nasty words, mixed with falsehoods.

“You wanna live in this piece of shit apartment with the kid?”

“He’s happy here, and it’s what I can afford.”

“So come back, and live like you should, have you in furs and diamonds, hmm?” He’s caressing your cheek as he speaks, altering his tone, and shit that used to work but now!?

“No.”

“No!?”

“No, I’m good with working hard, and doing what I can. I haven’t asked you for a dime, Naoya.”

“Making such good money shaking your ass?” You tense then, jaw setting, glaring back at him.

“Excuse me?”

“Heard the rumors, someone saw you coming out of that club downtown, the real fancy one. Are you actually bartending, or are you just slutting it out?”

“I swear to god, go the fuck away.”

“Want me to tell the lawyer what you do? Mommy who strips, who knows what else she does for money. How much are you charging them?” He cooes again, brushing back your hair as your hands are numb from the blood pressure rising higher and higher, until you almost feel faint.

“What are you getting at, stop talking in circles.”

He laughs then, throwing his head back a bit. “That you either come back where you belong, with me, or I make sure he’s not gonna be yours.”

“You will not, and since when do you even want him in your life?” Your voice is under your breath, you can’t have Touma hearing, Naoya’s brows lower, as he finally backs up a bit, but his hands are slipping across the sides of your breasts, to your waist and your hips.

“Miss you, don’t you know?” He tries to run it, that game he used to, but it doesn’t work, not now that you’ve had Sukuna, a real man. “I need you in my bed, not some john at a club.”

“I don’t get paid to fuck.” You speak through your teeth, he snorts then.

“You were good with your mouth, you know.”

“Wouldn’t know if you were, thank god.”

“What now?” You smile then.

“Nothing. If you want to see Touma, set it up with our lawyer, you don’t need to come here, or do you want more legal involvement in your hair?”

“You threatening me, stupid little bitch?”

“Just giving what I’m getting, bet you don’t want the feds on you.” He laughs cruelly, pinching your cheek so hard you gasp.

“Think I don’t have feds in my back pocket? Stop acting like you fucking know shit, huh? Think about it, coming back, being safe with me, or acting like some dumb bitch at a club. What’s better?”

“Call me a bitch one more time, I swear.” He leans close, lips against your ear, hands slipping down your body, gripping at your hips.

“You’re real pretty when you’re scared.” Is all he says, kissing your ear and laughing again, before pulling back, finally allowing you a breath. “I’ll see you real soon, sweetheart.”

You try to compose yourself, finally walking inside and seeing Touma nomming happily on his little cheese puff snacks, giggling as he’s watching his cartoon. You exhale in relief that he hadn’t heard it, but then a sense of dread starts to fill you, as you have no clue truly just what your ex is capable of.

******

Candy looks at you with a frown when you walk in, as do the other girls, not saying a word as you start to get undressed, they never really talk to you, seeing as you’re Mr. Sukuna’s favorite, and you can’t blame them. Sukuna was heavily lusted after by the girls here, and you’re sure from overhearing conversations that he used to partake in the women here as well.

But it definitely seems like he no longer is, as body spray is spritzed and lockers are shut, leaving you alone as you’re dusting glitter on your skin, struggling to pull yourself together just a bit. Sukuna isn’t here yet, and when he is you’re certain the flood gates are going to open, and tears will fall.

You need to tell him what happened.

You struggle to save face, stepping up the stairs to one of the stages, clear platform heels clicking, the straps have calloused your ankles all week, but you seem to be getting used to this again. Your body after just a couple weeks is a little stronger, a little more used to the movements, though you’re not sure you’ll be able to get up all the way like before Touma.

You spin and glide, earning grins and looks, as you slip to the floor, hair falling loosely, you’re not wearing a wig tonight, hair just flowing lightly, led lights glittering like diamonds on your skin. You try to fake a smile, try to put on a bright exterior, as men ogle you with their eyes, as they slip cash into your garter, when you see Sukuna walk in, along with Toji, Suguru and Satoru.

As soon as his eyes hit you, he knows something is wrong, and he panics, was it him, yesterday? Was it the fuckfest you two had!? Was he too much or…

What you do to him.

He walks up now, casually standing at the stage and pulling out hundreds, becoming you over, blunt in his mouth as he hands you a lighter. “Light it f’me, pretty hmm?”

“Of course, Mr. Sukuna.” You step closer, taking it and cupping around the flame, he exhales, slipping a hundred in your garter, then another few in your waistband, thumbs brushing on your skin, feeling so good then. “Don’t give me-”

“Shh. Tipping my girls here.” He says, inhaling the blunt as more men are gathering around, trying to garner your attention, and Sukuna’s putting another few hundred in your other garter, as your body responds to his every touch. “God just look at you.”

“Mnh…” Is all you manage to whisper, he smirks then, inhaling the blunt and exhaling against your skin as you spread your thighs, pulling your panties up to where your lips are just barely visible, making his head spin.

“Teasing me, huh brat?”

“Maybe.” You turn now, rolling your hips, before pulling him by his tie, as he stands so close, feeling your heat against him, making him almost moan as he lets you pull his face to your titties.

“You better not do this with anyone again.” He says as you jiggle your breasts, managing the first soft laugh since your run in with your ex.

“I’ll do whatever you want me to, Sir.”

“Fuck.” You pull back a bit, and he sighs as his name is called, looking over his shoulder, then back at you. “Come see me in a bit.”

You nod, finding it hard to pay any attention to any of the other men, outright shuffling off dances to the other girls, until your set is done and Sukuna eyes you heading to his office. Soon he’s in there, shutting the door and pulling you close, intending on kissing you when he sees the tense set of your face, the way your eyebrows are drawn together.

He softly says your name, and you know you’re losing it, your hold on everything. “Anyone bothering you?”

“Not any of the guys here, no.”

 “What’s wrong?” Sukuna cups your face, and as soon as he does, you drop your shields, your barriers, all your defenses, lip trembling so much you have to bite at it to make it stop. You’re blinking back tears, when his crimson eyes narrow with concern, his jaw tensing. “What’s wrong, brat, out with it.”

“I don’t wanna worry you.” You whisper, then Sukuna knows.

“He fuckin threaten you?”

“Just with custody, not… physical. But he was grabbing at me, saying nasty things to me… I… Kuna, I…”

“Shh, shit just c’mere.” He pulls you in his embrace, a big hand on your head, pressing you against  his chest, letting you inhale that familiar scent, feeling so right and perfect, this cardamom mixed with something so heady, so him. You inhale it as your tears decorate his black dress shirt, and he’s just holding you.

You can’t stop crying, it opens up like a damn flood gate, all while he’s holding you against his chest. “S-someone saw m-me here… that night he w-was here, I think he was looking for me.”

Sukuna’s grip tightens, holding you so close you can barely breathe. “He won’t fucking touch you, not a hair on your head.” Sukuna feels his chest aching, how much and how intense he’s feeling for you, with every breath you take, the thoughts fill his head over and over.

Kill him, he wants to kill Naoya.

It would start a fucking gang war though, but he can’t even think of anything, seeing red as he looks at the door to his office, as he holds you while you cry, over a man who doesn’t deserve shit, especially your damn tears. Didn’t deserve to touch you, and now has made you cry? No.

“He won’t bother you anymore.”

“You don’t understand who he is-”

“You don’t understand who I am.” You look up at him, as he swipes his thumbs across your cheeks. He can’t stop himself then, he wants to finally tell you, just how he feels, how much he feels. “Listen, I-”

Suddenly there’s a commotion, and Sukuna hears the sounds of a fight breaking out, you both quickly dart out of the room, and see it then, Naoya being held by his collar with Toji. The dancers and bartenders scatter, the men there gathering around, including several Zenin, with guns on the ready, you feel sick when Naoya sees you, wearing literally just pasties and panties.

Brown eyes lock as Sukuna spins a gold ring on one of his tattooed fingers, putting the insignia on it under his fist, stepping in front of you, as Toji hooks him under his shoulders, and Satoru and Suguru walk in, starting to punch the other men around you all, taking their guns right from their hands. The entire room is chaotic as you stand behind Sukuna, hand gripping his shirt like some lifeline.

“Out of the fuckin’ way, Ryomen. That’s my property right behind you.” Naoya says, and Sukuna’s body flexes with his fury, as he steps forward, laughing while he watches Naoya wriggle in Toji’s hold.

“She isn’t your damn property, Zenin.”

“She was my wife-”

“Was, being the keyword. You’re in our territory, fuck face.” Toji says then, and Naoya laughs, trying to heatbutt Toji and failing.

“Not the traitor son talking shit about territory, you all just are little bitches for the Gojo clan now, huh?”

Gojo quietly knocks another member out, until several are on the floor, as Suguru makes sure every last patron and dancer are out of the door, shutting and locking it with a click. “Speaking of my family, you are on my land, so why don’t you do us all a favor and leave her alone?” Gojo says then, as Sukuna steps closer, and Toji drags Naoya to a seat, holding his arms behind the back of it.

“The fuck do you care, you all tagging her?” Sukuna punches Naoya then, with a sickening crack, only making him lick the blood that drips from his lips, grinning when you find you have a jacket on you, tugging at it a bit and seeing Suguru smile just a bit, touching your back gently.

“You shouldn’t see this, love.” He murmurs, as Naoya coughs up once Sukuna has punched him in the stomach.

“Don’t talk about her, don’t even say her fucking name.” Sukuna mutters now, gripping Naoya’s collar and lowering his face.

“Do you know what my family can do?” Naoya asks, earning Sukuna’s grin.

“Do you know what I can do? What I feel like doing right now?” Satoru now has an arm around your shoulder, turning you to face his chest when you hear another scream from Naoya now, along with Sukuna chuckling.

“Shouldn’t see all that.” Satoru mumbles, as you’re shivering against him, and he has a hand on your head.

“I can look at it, I swear-”

“You really care about her, then you won’t piss me off, she’d fetch a pretty penny on the market, stretch marks and all- ah.” You hear another hit then, another sickening crunch of bone, making you just bury your face further against Satoru’s chest, feeling how stiff his own body has gotten, hands tight on you.

“Gojo, get her out of here while I finish this.” You hear gruffly, to just be ushered away from where your ex was further digging his grave. You’re gasping for a breath when Satoru has you in Sukuna’s office, struggling with your tears as you pull the coat closer against you.

“You have the worst taste, pookie.” Satoru says, and you laugh through your tears, as he leans over to grab tissues, dabbing them on your cheeks.

“How are you a mobster? You’re too sweet.”

“I am sweet, hmm?” He wiggles his brows, making you giggle again.

“How do you do that, be so sweet still?”

“Lots of sugary drinks. Sit.” You sit down now on the desk, hearing more screaming, trembling more as this giant coat swamps you, and Satoru sits next to you sighing, rubbing the back of his neck. “I hate this shit actually.”

“The head of the Gojo family hates it?”

“Sure do. Boring, bloody, just annoying. Sukuna, he really runs things for me, honestly, he can handle it all. I can but…” He frowns, looking at the backs of his knuckles, his long fingers spread out. “I don’t prefer to.”

“Do you think he’ll really do it, try to s-sell me?” Your trembling whisper makes Satoru frown now.

“He’s capable of it, and if Sukuna kills him now, there’ll be a war. He runs the Zenin at this point. But… no one will let it happen.”

“But my kid, I-”

“No one will let it happen. Okay?” You nod just a bit and he sighs, pulling you against him again. “Look like you need a hug.”

“Ugh, I do. Thank you, Gojo.”

“Satoru, we’re friends now hmm?” You nod with a little smile when Sukuna walks in, covered in blood all over his hand and forearms, eyeing you two.

But instead of irritation, he feels appreciative of idiot ass Gojo, even if just for the moment, as he comforts you. “I’ve got it now.”

Gojo smiles at you. “Don’t worry mmkay?”

You nod, wishing you could feel as unbothered as he’s trying, as he walks past Sukuna, and he murmurs something in his ear, before Sukuna shuts the door behind him, walking up to you now. Slowly, step by step, those dress shoes of his click quietly on polished hardwood floors, until he’s right in front of you, his shoulders finally relaxing their posture.

“Kuna…” You whisper, looking at his bloodied hands, as he cups your face with them, exhaling and leaning low, the crimson liquid decorating your cheeks as his thumbs brush over them.

“You need to come stay with me.” He says, husky voice so deep and broken, you take a shaky breath, your hands slipping up his shirt, dark line of sweat down his broad chest making it damp.

“I can’t do that, I can’t impose like that!”

“He’s more dangerous to you and your kid right now than anyone. You both need to stay with me for now so I can have you safe. No arguing, got me?” He says softly, and you nod, blinking tears back as he kisses you, deeply, hungrily now. “Good girl, actually listening.”

“Good girl, don’t do that.” You feel it then, his adrenaline just pouring from his veins, and he moans now, shoving off the jacket, baring you to him, every where he touches leaving little trails of blood, your ex husband’s blood at that, now coating your pretty breasts when he grabs them. You’re desperately unzipping him, feeling the need to be ever closer.

“God, what do you do to me.” He murmurs more to himself than anything, kissing the corner of your lips, down your jaw, pulling your pretty body so close, dying to take you, have you his and only his.

“Please.” You whine out softly, stroking his cock now, thumb trailing just over his piercing when he spreads your thighs, kissing down your neck, and you’re rubbing his tip between your folds, whining.

“I can’t touch her like this.” He huffs, and you whine out, making his cock throb in response.

“Don’t even need to touch me, please. In me- Ah!” As he presses his cock at your entrance, you’re soaking him, all while he’s cupping your chin, kisses hungrier now, your teeth clicking as he’s stretching out your little pussy.

“You’re too tight, brat, shit.” He huffs now, pulling your hair as he lays you back on his desk, yanking your thigh so he can sink even further, and you almost cum then and there, the sound drowned out by his mouth, muffling your cries.

“Need you.” You whisper again, and you needing him, hearing you say that, right along with your perfect pussy ruins him completely, he’s fucking into your slick walls now, harder and harder, pulling back to look at your face. Covered in mascara streaks, tears from this piece of shit who should have never had you, still so beautiful.

“You’re all mine now, aren’t you brat?” He huffs, you nod weakly, when his piercing drags on your spot, and you’re screaming out, he covers your mouth with his hand, his eyes dilated, lidded while he fucks into you. “Shh, baby.”

Baby.

Sukuna called you baby.

As you’re cumming and he’s whispering ‘that’s it, baby lemme fuckin’ feel you’ it’s partially from his cock, partially from his possessiveness, the way he owns you. He pulls out of you then, much to your whining dismay, chuckling a bit when he’s bent you over his desk instead, legs dangling at just how high it is, even with your heels they barely touch the floor.

“Mine, say it.” He huffs, fucking back into you, tip drooling as it kisses your cervix, your head falls back as you whine out. “Mine, just mine, never his again.”

“Never, Kuna, never.” Your cries are again muffled by a rough palm, as Sukuna feels a protectiveness so intense he can’t bear it, the need to claim you, to keep you, to make you his and all his. He’s closer and closer as he ravages your tight little cunt, which is pouring down his veiny length to accommodate.

“Gonna k-keep you s-safe, keep you cumming, f-fuck… got me?” You nod eagerly, screaming out into his palm when his ring drags on a new spot, and you’re cumming all over him, making him throb and moan himself, right in your ear, so sexy it sends shivers down your spine. “Gonna protect you baby.”

Protect you. 

Fuck you believe him, you trust him, more than someone you knew for years. The way he grabs you. Holds you. Kisses you. Fucks you. There's nothing like it, that strength as he rails your pretty pussy, yet the gentleness of his little kisses, then the feral way he claims you.

“Mnh!” Is all you squeak out against his rough hand, as your eyes roll back in your skull, and you’re convulsing around his thickness.

“Fuck…” Sukuna whimpers, the sound that always ends you even further, as he tries to keep going buried deep in you, he has to rest his other hand on the desk, clutching it, while he turns your face to him, breath on your lips burning. He almost says it, insane words, you make him think when you look at him with those eyes.

I love you.

Fucking brat, coming in and making him obsessed, making him soft, reckless and stupid, and now in love. He barely knows you, he’s surely pussydrunk, but that’s just not it, Sukuna has been whipped like a little bitch since day one, and it’s truly all your fault, as your pussy milks him, as your lips part and you look at him like that, like something he can’t explain.

Well shit.

He can’t just say that, so he stutters, his mouth open, shoving his cock so deep you scream out loud, and he couldn’t care less if someone heard then and there, not when he’s burying his face in your neck, murmuring your name. He also murmurs it, silently, those three little words, as he grabs you so tight, thick muscled arms around your body, so small compared to him.

“Kuna, cum in me, please. Wanna f-feel you.” You whisper, and who is he to deny anything you ask? He cums immediately, like your whispered plea was some command, his moans echoing in the room they’re so loud. “Mnh oh my god yes.”

You’re shuddering now, as his cock fills you so good, white cum shooting so deep inside you, and your head falls back as you rock your hips, arching your ass out for him to cum even deeper. Sukuna kisses you over and over, one hand gripping your hip, the other your face, trying to catch his own breath as he pushes in just a bit, feeling his cum and yours drooling down his length.

“Holy fuck…” You mumble, and he chuckles just a bit. “What?”

“You’re cute.”

“Cute, hmm?” He eases off you, pressing kisses down your spine, exhaling as he watches goosebumps rise everywhere he does.

“Cute. Even pouring cum like this.” You jerk as he pulls his cock out, and the emptiness and soreness hits. “Mmm, come with me tonight.”

“With my kid and everything? Let’s just… tomorrow? I mean I have to bring some things.” You try to adjust as you clean yourself up a bit with the tissues, hands shaking as you do.

“I mean… he’s not gonna do shit tonight, I guess, but I’ll have someone sit in front of your place, just to be sure.” You cup Sukuna’s face now, tiptoeing.

“You’d do that for me?”

“Let your kid sleep tonight, then we’ll figure something out.”

“Kuna I think I’m… like in love?” He snorts, but you’re dead serious, earning a blush on his high cheeks.

“It’s the moment brat, calm down.”

“Is it the moment?” Your eyes lock on his, he sighs now.

“You’re ‘like- in love’ what a shitty confession.” You glare now, earning his chuckle, the moment just a little lighter.

“Excuse me for not having the best confession, I have my exes blood on me and my boyfriend fucked my brain away.”

“Boyfriend?” He raises a brow, you bite your lower lip nervously then.

“Aren’t you?” He sighs, he wants to be that and more, brushing your messy hair back just so.

“You’re asking me out and confessing love? Damn, pathetic.”

“I swear if you-”

“I’m joking, brat.” He’s grinning now, for a moment this huge, tall and intimidating man with bruised knuckles is just a little sweetheart, genuine joy in his tone when he speaks. “I’ll be your boyfriend.”

“Yeah!?”

“Yeah.” You grin and kiss him again and again, until he’s damn near ready to fuck you all over, when the door knocks, and he clears his throat, grabbing his own coat and shoving it over your shoulders. “Come in.”

“Smells like sex in here.” Toji jokes with a grin, and Satoru sighs.

“Good sex.” He says with a pout.

“Can you two actually fuck off?” Sukuna demands, and you stand up, handing Suguru his jacket with a little smile.

“Thank you.” He smiles just a bit, nodding.

“How about we have a drink, I could sure use one.” Toji mutters, and Sukuna chuckles.

“Is that code for, I really fucked shit up and we need to talk about our plans?”

“Something like that. Wanna have a drink, doll?” Toji asks you then, and you sigh, shaking your head.

“I should get home, I need to be with my son.”

“I’ll have someone go there now.” Sukuna says, texting on his phone for a moment. “Want my driver to take you?”

“I can drive, Sukuna.”

“Aren’t you shaken up a bit?” Sukuna murmurs, before grinning. “Or should I say fucked out?”

“Oh stop!” You head off to get cleaned up and dressed, and when you’re out there aside from knocked over chairs and broken glass shattered, it seems relatively normal. Toji, Sukuna and Gojo are sitting there with Suguru at the bar, pouring them each a drink when Sukuna sees you, in your hoodie and jeans, sighing.

“You gonna be okay alone? I can come with you.” Sukuna asks, and Suguru hands you a shot, which you down with a little shiver, coughing a bit.

“If you have someone keeping an eye on the place I’ll be okay.”

“Just in case…” Sukuna walks behind the bar now, grabbing a gun and handing it to you, you blink a bit in confusion, frowning at it. “I’ll be showing you how to shoot a mother fucker.”

“Right now!?” You hear the chuckling of the men around you.

“Just point and shoot em, pookie.” Gojo says.

“I’m not gonna have a gun around! I don’t have a lock box and-”

“There’s the safety, and you can put it right under your pillow, just for tonight. Tomorrow I can protect you.” Sukuna says softly, putting the cool metal in your hands, dainty and shimmering. “It’s not a big gun, it’s tiny, just a little ‘22, enough that it’ll fuck em up, but barely any kick back. And easy to keep on you.”

“I don’t know…”

“Look, doll, ya need to start carrying, with that ex of yours? Trust us.” Toji says, you sigh then, nodding and taking the gun carefully, hand trembling just a bit.

“Safety is here, trigger here, it’s loaded so don’t play with it. Okay?” You nod now, and pops a little holster around your hips, securing it and covering it with your hoodie.

“I don’t have a permit-”

“Baby we run coke and are in the mob, you think that matters?” You look down and they all chuckle again at you. “You’re cute.”

“Yeah, yeah. Okay, I should go home though, I need to clean up and… be with my kid.”

“I’ll walk you out.” You wave to the other men now, as you feel the weight of his gun, though light, the mental weight of it is heavy on you, as you look up at him and a car pulls up.

“Only go straight home, already got someone parked, red mercedes, any other car lurking you call me, okay?” You nod then, leaning up and kissing him softly, sighing against his lips.

“I think I really love you.”

He chuckles, shaking his head, pulling you against him now, hands warm even over the layer of your fleece hoodie. “Do I gotta baby proof my house for the kid, or can he keep his hands off my coke?”

“Oh god, Sukuna!” He’s chuckling more now, earning your narrowed eyes. “Yes I need it somewhat put up, certain things, but he’s three, not an infant, so he’s good with most things. Are you really sure this won’t be a big imposition?”

“I’m sure it’ll annoy the fuck out of me, but it’s worth it if you’re safe.” You melt now, the breeze softly blowing his pastel hair around as you look up at him in the night.

“You’re gonna meet the kid, hmm? So soon?” You tease, he smirks.

“Already clearly met the ex.”

“Oh!” You shove at him playfully, for a moment you can let go, this horrible night, a night where your ex said and did terrible things, and threatened worse, because with Sukuna you just feel safe.

“The kid, he looks like you…”

“He does, doesn’t he?” Sukuna’s mind flits, to wild things he shouldn’t think about yet, like if he puts a baby in you, but he tries to shove it back, down with the pesky I love you, that doesn’t need to come out yet.

In just a couple of weeks you’re turning his entire life upside down, but he’s not sure he’s upset about it, really.

“He’ll love you, don’t worry.”

“I’m not.” He is.

“Well, good night Kuna.”

“Dumb nickname.” He grumbles, kissing you again, soft and sweet, and your eyes meet, seeing so much behind them, the worry and fear and… more. “Call me when you get home, lock up good. Keep the gun close, yeah?”

“Yes, Sir.” You giggle when he moans at that, hands on your hips, pressing you close against his hard body.

“Keep talking shit. I have that room soundproof you know.”

“Freaky ass.” He snorts, and you both kiss once more, as he leans over the car door, opening his mouth as if to say something, then sighing.

“Don’t forget to call me.”

“I won’t.” His heart aches when you drive off, he quickly walks back in however, his entire demeanor shifting when he sees the other men are serious now too, now that they don’t have to try to keep it a little more positive for you.

“He fucked up big time coming here.” Toji slicks back his inky locks, downing another shot of tequila, as Satoru’s hands clutch the bar so hard his thin veins are popping from his hands and wrists.

“He’s gonna come back with more people, we need to amp up, call in some of the guys to be on watch. God this shit is boring.” Gojo sighs now, leaning his snowy head back and looking up at the ceiling. “Tired of the Zenin.”

“They’re becoming more and more of a problem, no respect.” Sukuna takes a bottle of whiskey, pouring it into his glass now, jaw clenching. “And that Naoya, the things he fucking said.”

“Love is the biggest weakness, Sukuna.” Satoru murmurs, Sukuna glares at him, but he’s right.

You’re now his weakness, a target, long standing shit mixing with Naoya’s clear need to get you back, it spells disaster. “Did I say I’m in love, Gojo?”

“Written all over your face.” Suguru smirks a bit, earning Sukuna’s glare.

“And her kid, you’re like gonna be a stepdad. God, imagine Ryomen Sukuna as your step dad?” Satoru’s cackling, and Sukuna stands now, stepping up to him as he holds his hands out. “I don’t blame you!? I’d do it too, look at her-”

“I think I need more blood on my knuckles tonight.” Sukuna yanks Satoru by the collar, his arms flailing.

“Shit, sorry step dad-”

“I’ll kill you.”

“Separate you two, god.” Suguru shoves them apart, shaking his head. “Satoru, you really just enjoy being threatened I think.”

“You do love her.” Satoru gets released, brushing himself off as Sukuna grumbles.

“I’ll never let him touch her again, whatever I gotta do.”

When you’re snug in your bed after a shower, you yawn, calling Sukuna, who is riding back home. “Hey, Kuna.”

“Brat, are you all good?” He tries to hide the worry in his voice, but it comes out through the phone, as you turn on your back, blinking a bit, hand clutching tightly.

“I’m okay, I promise. Scared for Touma. I don’t know, would he hurt him?”

“He’d hurt you, and that leaves him with no mom. So it doesn't matter if he’d hurt him or not.” You bite your lip then, feeling exhaustion starting to seep in.

“Why are you so good to me?”

“Tch.”

“Answer me, you brat.”

“Me a brat!?” He laughs now, and you giggle. “You’re asking for it.”

“Am I? Gonna punish me?” Your words are just a whisper, but hearing his sigh even through the phone makes your tummy clench.

“Hah- you’d like it too much, won’t you, me beating that bouncy ass?”

“Shush. I’m sore, you know.”

“Gotta work on the stamina, pathetic.”

“Hmm.” You’re dozing now, lashes are lowering, and he soon hears a light little snore, glaring at the phone.

“You’re sleeping?” He hears more snoring now, chuckling and leaning back in the seat, shutting his eyes for a moment, picturing you.

You’re making him so sappy, god it’s annoying.

“Night then, brat.” He murmurs, hearing you stir then.

“Night Kuna.” He hates the stupid smile on his face, hates the heat spreading from his cheeks to even the tips of his ears, hanging up the phone with a sigh, mind swirling.

Images of you, images of Naoya with his broken fucking nose, then more and more thoughts swirling, especially one-

How is he going to baby proof his damn penthouse?

A/N- there's a LOT of plot here vs just smut, but I really wanna get into just how awful the Zenin are in this mafia world, esp Naoya. NEXT CHAP we get Kuna meeting Touma OMG. Also I included a lot of Satoru bc he's getting his spin off hehe. Hope you enjoyed, tysm for the love so far on this lil fic!

Taglist #1 @naammiii @naina326 @1worm1 @yenayaps @shokosbunny @sukubusss @msniks @kittyyyyykats @nyxly1412 @trashsuarecan @dumbbunny98 @monster-effer @tojis-ball-sack @tangsakura @friesnkwtchup @uhnosav @lhhlver @attackonnat @moonchhu @mat-mat-mat @cherryjain17 @havkjhdecs @stargirl-mayaa @waterfal-ling @the-dark-creature @lulunx @saitamaswifey @spacefae-x @deitysdream @sorahatake @gojoscumslut @stainednailpolishremover @kidd3ath @clp-84 @rinkomei @catastayy @oneirataxiaa @inthedarkshadows000 @travistheaussie @cold-blooded-girls @emi311 @blublublubby @fluttershyfangs @actuallynarii @7thsthings @ilovemeni @erluu @for-hearthand-home @angellliqua

[inkedinshadows]

Brooding, Cuddly Shadowsinger

Pairing: Azriel x f!reader

A/N: thank you @pey2618 for this one! It was such a cute idea and I love it! I'm always down bad for soft Az. Note: i just finished writing it (it's 11pm here) after a full day of classes, so forgive me if there are mistakes or typos

Prompts: "You're not so scary after all, are you?" + "You're my new pillow now." + reader and az are out somewhere and he is all broody and scares ppl away but when they are home he is as sweet as a marshmallow

Warnings: none! Just fluff

Word count: 824

The party was going well. For you, at least.

When your friend had told you that you could bring Azriel along, you said you would ask, fully believing he'd decline. Instead, he'd agreed to come with you as soon as you mentioned it.

You were sure he was now regretting that decision.

When you were beside him, everything was fine. His hand was on your knee if you were sitting on the couch, on your back when you stood. But whenever you left his side—to get a drink, to dance, to talk with the other guests—it was like a bubble enveloped him. He became quiet, his brows knitted together, and he looked at people as if they might suddenly turn out to be an enemy he needed to fight. Even his shadows were restless, swirling around his shoulders and wings like a dark tempest, calming only when you joined him again and yet never disappearing completely. The all-black clothes definitely didn't help his case.

You couldn't blame people for avoiding him. And when you passed by two girls on your way back from the toilet, you couldn't help but chuckle as you caught a snippet of their conversation.

“I don't really know how she does it.”

“Well, he's very handsome.”

“Yes, but he's terrifying. Just look at him!”

“Yeah, he kinda is…”

You walked up to Azriel, a smile already on your lips. “You're scaring people off.”

His face softened as soon as he saw you, and he shifted to a more relaxed stance, his shadows settling down. But at your words, he frowned. “I'm not doing anything.”

You crossed your arms and looked him up and down. “You're standing here, just brooding.”

Azriel's gaze swept around the room. Some guests quickly looked away from him.

“Why would that scare people?” he asked when his eyes settled on you again.

“Because you're the big, infamous Shadowsinger?” you replied with a teasing smirk. “The High Lord's Spymaster?”

Azriel rolled his eyes, but his lips curled up at the corners. Before he could say anything, you playfully patted his arm.

“Try not to scare too many people, okay?” you quipped. “I'll be right back.”

His expression fell, and for just a moment, he reminded you of a lost puppy. “Why? Where are you going?”

“To say goodbye to everyone.” You were already stepping away, people parting to let you through after a quick glance at Azriel. “I'm taking you home.”

~~~~~~

Not even an hour later, you were back in your room, ready for the night.

Azriel was already in bed. As soon as you slipped under the covers, his arms wrapped around you and pulled you closer. He rested his head on your chest, right on the soft swell of your breasts, his eyes closed as he let out a content sigh.

You laughed softly. “Are you comfy enough?”

He hummed. “Yes. You're my new pillow now.”

You laughed again, shifting just enough to find a comfortable position without disturbing him. Your fingers tangled in his dark curls, while the other hand came to rest on the nape of his neck.

Azriel melted in your arms as every ounce of lingering tension from the day left his body. His shadows vanished, and his wings splayed out above the sheets, covering you like a second blanket. You swore he purred like a cat when you began gently massaging his scalp.

There he was—the big, infamous Shadowsinger who had terrified everyone at the party just hours earlier.

“You're not so scary after all, are you?” you murmured. “Those people just didn't know you like I do.”

He nuzzled into your chest, his voice already groggy as he mumbled, “No one knows me like you do, love.”

You smiled and kissed the top of his head. “That's right. Just me.”

With another soft sigh, Azriel settled against you. You could feel his warm breath on your skin, his long eyelashes tickling you every time his eyes fluttered.

The party had drained him, despite the fact that he hadn't danced or interacted that much. But being around so many people could be overwhelming for him, especially when in an environment so different from what he was used to. Yet he had still come with you.

“Why did you come to the party?” you asked quietly.

Azriel’s arms tightened around you. “Wanted to be with you,” he mumbled, the words blurring together.

He was adorable. Utterly, sickeningly adorable.

“Go to sleep,” you murmured. “I love you.”

You felt his small smile against your skin as he whispered, “Love you too…”

You continued stroking his hair, holding him close to your heart, right where he belonged.

To others, he might be scary. Terrifying, even. The Shadowsinger, the Spymaster, the one no one truly knew.

But to you, he was this—a sweet, cuddly male who needed the comfort of his mate's embrace.

To you, he was just Az.

Taglist: @mrsjna @navyblue-eternity @paintedbyshadows @highladyandromeda @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @azrielsmate3 @mollygetssherlockcoffee @mirandasidefics @tinystarfishgalaxy @cynthiesjmxazrielslover @anarchiii @readinggeeklmao @anneas11 @azrielslittleslut @lilah-asteria @lorosette @azrielsrealmate @pey2618 @mellowmusings @k8r123-blog @daughterofthemoons-stuff @minnieoo @saltedcoffeescotch @georgiadixon @quiet-because-it-is-a-secret @ivy-34

1k taglist: @onebadassunicorn @thegoddessofnothingness

[mochacoda]

[teaser] python | csc

Pairing: Choi Seungcheol x GN!Reader

Synopsis: When you broke up with your boyfriend to work in a different country, you didn't expect to see him ever again. But when you transfer to your company's Seoul branch four years later, the department head is your ex, and he’s made it his objective to make your life a living hell for leaving him all those years ago.

Content: Angst, Fluff, Comfort | Exes to Lovers | Office AU

Tags: emotions, miscommunication, heartache, workaholic!seungcheol, insecure reader, drinking, a lot of crying, begging, petnames (sweetheart, love), konglish w/ translations, no "y/n," this is for everyone who voted for cheol in the poll, loosely connected to too nice (joshua)

Word Count: 8K (est. full)

Release Date: February 14

Masterlist

“I hate him,” you seethe, your fists balled up, crumpling your rejected proposal. “God, I hate him.”

Your coworker, Joshua Hong, looks up from his cubicle with raised eyebrows. “Who?”

You breathe in deeply, willing your rage to dissipate at the sight of his confusion. Poor Joshua doesn’t deserve your anger. “No one,” you say, clenching your jaw. 

Open-mouthed, Joshua blinks rapidly, eyes flitting over to glance at the office you had just walked out of. The door to the room is marked with a name plate that has 최승철 [Choi Seungcheol] in bold, gold letters. 

“I’m fine,” you insist, hands uncrumpling the document you had just attacked. 

“Uh, okay?” he says with a healthy dose of doubt, elongating the “o” in “okay.” 

“I just—” you begin, then immediately shut your mouth. “Ugh, forget it.”

It’s one thing to crumple a proposal up, and another thing to start bad-mouthing your boss out in the open. You throw the tattered outline onto your desk, then plop yourself into your chair. You rub your temples, and then mutter under your breath, “How did I get here?”

“Good question,” Joshua laughs. “Company synergy?” 

You groan, “Don’t ever say that word again in my presence.” 

“Mmh,” he says, walking over to your cubicle. “You won’t have to worry about my presence in a few months.” 

“Don’t remind me,” you sigh, dropping your head in your hands. 

Joshua would be leaving the Seoul branch and transferring to the New York branch in a few weeks. 

Curse your company for its commitment to “workplace synergy,” swapping out a handful of employees across all departments in its international branches every few years. If it hadn’t been for this horrible program, you wouldn’t be here right now. 

You want to rip out your own hair, at this point.

How did it even get to this? You shut your eyes, thinking back to simpler times. 

When you first got a job offer at the New York branch of your dream company, your initial reaction was elation. Your second? Doubt. Leaving Seoul was almost unthinkable, not to mention the fact that you’d be leaving your boyfriend behind, too. 

For the first few days after hearing back from the recruiter, you knew you’d accept, but kept the news to yourself. You’d heard of so many horror stories about long-distance dating, and after a long period of consideration, you wondered what the point was. 

You knew your boyfriend—really knew him. You knew he’d make sacrifices for you at the expense of himself, and it was impossible for you to accept bogging him down with a 14 hour time difference. He’d stay up waiting for your calls, instead of getting much needed rest. He’d worry about you all the time, checking the weather in Manhattan instead of Seoul and calling you constantly instead of his family and friends. He’d wait on you for as long as you needed, in an almost obsessive way, thinking it could make up the difference in distance. But he deserved someone who could love him in person, all of the time. 

It’d be better for Seungcheol if you just let him go, freeing him to focus on what mattered more to him. Like work.

He loved you too much to break things off with you himself, so it was better that you did it. For his own good. 

That’s what you told him, at least. 

────୨ৎ──── Four Years Ago

“Cheol,” you said, teary-eyed. “Cheol, look at me.”

Seungcheol stared blankly at the ground, face frozen. 

“Please?” your voice cracked.

“Who are you to tell me what I can and can’t handle?” he suddenly choked out, eyes flashing with hurt. His hands clenched, like he was holding himself back from saying more.

You swallowed thickly, reaching for his arm. “Cheol, I—”

“Don’t call me that,” he said, snatching his hand away from you. 

────୨ৎ──── 

But you had swallowed the real reasons for the breakup. 

Because, deep down, you had always suspected otherwise. Somehow, everything had just become so complicated. Loving Seungcheol—which had once been something as easy as breathing—had become a dull pain in your chest, clouding your every thought with insecurities. 

Even from the start of the relationship, you’d loved him more, anyway. Back then, you didn’t mind it because you loved him so much, and he was always so, so sweet to you. But around the time of the job offer, paranoia had reared its ugly head, kicking your uncertain thoughts into overdrive. 

It was obvious that he didn’t really love you anymore. While you were job seeking, he was distracted. Always checking his phone, not really listening to what you had to say. He made time for you, but he didn’t necessarily make you feel like he loved you as deeply as you did him—it didn’t feel like he was the same guy that you started dating. 

Something about his actions just felt like he did them to claim that he loved you, rather than because he actually loved you. His actions were laced with a kind of surface level, superficial quality. 

He’d take you out to a fancy dinner, open the door for you, pay for the meal, drive you home—all the gentlemanly things he did when you started dating, too. But on the car ride there and back, and while sitting down eating together, he wouldn’t remember the things you had said about the little things happening in your life—a major change, when compared to the start of your relationship. 

And sure, he didn’t have an obligation to remember your next door neighbor's name. But shouldn’t he remember your favorite kind of pie, or your closest cousin’s name? Shouldn’t he just know not to check his phone every time it pings with a new email, or leave you to eat your stupid expensive pasta alone as he takes a call outside?

It was almost like Seungcheol had fallen out of love with you, but was staying with you out of some kind of obligation to continue what he had started? That was your only explanation for why he’d spend time with you, but wouldn’t pay close attention to the things you said. Every Thursday was movie night, and in hopes of trying to keep him away from work, you let him choose the movie every time. But what use was that, when he spent more time looking at his phone than the TV—and more importantly, you, for that matter? 

You’d been dating a ghost of a man. While you loved him, he tolerated you. 

If the two of you stayed together when you went abroad, he’d probably double down on texts, but he wouldn’t really remember anything you’d said if you mentioned details about them in calls. 

You didn’t bring any of these fears up to him, because you knew that he would continue to deny it. In fact, you’d imagined it in your head so much that you could see it when closing your eyes to sleep. If you confronted him, he’d deny that he didn’t love you anymore. But he’d be staring at the ground instead of looking at you. He wouldn’t admit that he was only with you because he enjoyed the consistency of your affection, and because he somewhat pitied you—and most importantly to him, because he wanted to prove to himself that he chose correctly when he started dating you. 

The pain of watching the love of your life push down his repulsion just to be with you was decidedly more horrifying than the pain of breaking up with him altogether. 

Right before ending things, it had occurred to you that Seungcheol might not have ever loved you in the first place, and that just hammered in the idea that you were making the right decision. He’d get over the breakup fast. He’d probably be thankful for it in a few years, even. If you saw him again, you’d both probably laugh, and in his head, he’d realize that he was grateful that you ended things so that he could focus on his real love, his career. 

If you were honest with yourself, you would admit that there was a bit of selfishness driving the breakup, as well. There was no way you could handle Seungcheol sacrificing things for you—if he lost sleep over you, if he worried about you, if he was distracted by you—because you knew he wouldn’t be doing it for love. 

Because he only ever cared out of a superficial need to prove to himself that he made the right decision in asking you out all those years ago. Not because he really loved you. 

Yes, he probably never loved you, and he would never know the real reason why you ended things. 

────୨ৎ──── Four Years Ago

“You give up so easily,” he spat out. “Was I nothing to you?”

Tears were running down your face. “Don’t. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”

Seungcheol laughed, then buried his head in his hands. “God, to think I almost—” 

He stopped, jaw tightening, then shook his head like he couldn’t believe it.

────୨ৎ──── 

A hand comes down sharply on your desk, jolting you awake. 

“Sleeping while on duty?”

Wide-eyed, with tear-stained cheeks, you look up to face your ex-boyfriend. “부장님! [Department Head!]” 

Upon seeing your red-rimmed eyes, Seungcheol falters.

Swiping at your under eyes quickly, you bow your head to him slightly. “I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.”

He swallows roughly, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. He opens his mouth, like he’s about to ask you why you were crying, and your heart drops. 

You will crumble if you hear the tone of voice he had used when you broke up with him.

“Excuse me,” you blurt with choked words. 

You don’t dare to look at his eyes. Instead, you get up from your seat, then immediately flee to the bathroom.

────୨ৎ──── Four Years Ago

“You can focus on work, now,” you squeaked out. 

Seungcheol scoffed again, a cruel sound of disbelief. “What makes you think I give a damn about work right now?”

“Don’t you? Always?” you sniffled.

His eyes flashed with something you couldn’t quite describe. He seemed angry, but not just at you. At himself, too—his hands were balled into fists at his sides, fingernails digging sharply into his palms. His throat bobbed, and you could see the intense restraint he was forcing on himself. He opened his mouth with a sharp breath, then closed it again, as if he wanted to say something but stopped himself.

Masterlist

Author’s Note: get ready for a rollercoaster

Disclaimer: nothing i write is representative of how svt acts off camera, take their names as stand-ins for oc’s!!

Taglist: @syluslittlecrows - @junplusone - @fragmentof-indifference - @junniesoleilkth - @woncheecks - @peachypie97 - @viciousdarlings - @11zzyy

[dodgeballstuckonthegymceiling]

CAN WE HAVE DOEY BEING A PLATONIC YANDERE TO THE PLAYER?? I WONDER HOW HE WOULD ACT GIVEN HIS CONFLICTING PERSONALITIES AND EMOTIONS DUE TO BEING MADE OUT OF THREE KIDS

Yes, you absolutely can! This ended up being way longer than I first planed and I'm actually pretty proud of it :)

Platonic yandere Doey & Reader

★ When Doey first meets the Player, he is intrigued. It's not every day you meet someone who keeps cheating the grim reaper. As Doey spends more time with the Player, he realizes that they are different than most employes. You are nice and treat him kindly.

★ His conflicting personalities create a strange mix of curiosity and adoration inside of him. Especially after you stay to help the Safe Haven instead of working with Poppy. Plus, the Player has been through so much already. They really should take a break.

★ He goes above and beyond to make them feel comfortable and secure in their new home. He introduces them to the other toys, making sure they feel included and part of their little community. Tries to help them relax after what they have been through, also.

★Doey becomes emotionally dependent on the Player, deriving a sense of purpose and stability from their presence. The thought of losing the Player or not being able to protect them fills him with fear and anxiety, fueling his yandere tendencies.

★ All three parts of him agree on one thing, protect the Player at all costs. That means not letting them leave the Safe Haven. At least not without him. It comes from a place of genuine care, having concern for the Player's well-being.

★ He prioritizes their needs, ensuring the Player feels safe and loved. If the player were to reciprocate his care by doing things to make him feel valued, it would mean the world to him. If it's not too much, could he pretty please hold your hand? (please say yes)

★ The player's consistent care builds trust between them. That trust is very important. Never break it or you might regret it. Doey is still unstable at times, and he could still lash out at you if the wrong button is pushed.

★ Yandere Doey is very possessive, he is aware of this and tries his best not to be. He really wants to give the Player the freedom they deserve but at the same time he fears losing you to others and may become anxious if you spend too much time with another toy.

★ Those thoughts are silly, he knows it, you would never abandon him for a new friend. However, that nagging voice in his head tells him differently. It may end up with him subtly manipulating the Player. It was for friendship though so it's okay!

★ He might use guilt or even fear to keep the Player close, making them feel responsible for his emotional well-being. The thought of the Player getting hurt when he's gone fills him with all sorts of bad feelings. Ones he doesn't even want to think about.

★ By this time it's too late to go back. He is too afraid of being abandoned, if you suggest going off to finish what you started and killing the prototype he would have a panic attack.

★ His conflicting personalities are unified in their fear of the Player facing danger and he becomes visibly distressed. It's too dangerous! If you leave and never come back, what will he do? Doey may even go as far as physically putting himself between the Player and the exit if it comes down to it.

[ordinary-barbie]

victory lap.

football player!rafe x fem!reader

summary: Your boyfriend Rafe has just won the biggest football game of his career, and he knows exactly how he wants to celebrate.

tags: fem!reader, cursing, unprotected p in v sex (though reader mentions being on the pill), oral (both receiving), fingering, consent checks, doggy style, creampie, praise kink, usage of “good girl,” cum swallowing, dirty talk, pet names ("baby," "princess"), slightly possessive rafe

word count: 1.7k

18+ only - minors do not interact!!!

note: I'm an Eagles fan so this is absolutely self-indulgent. Go Birds!!!

Tonight felt like an absolute dream.

You'd been with Rafe for nearly six years, since your freshman year of college. Through that time, you witnessed many highs and lows of your boyfriend's football career, celebrating after the big wins and comforting him through tough losses. And tonight, all that hard work had culminated in the ultimate prize: a Super Bowl win.

The Eagles' win had been oh-so-satisfying for you after the heartbreaking loss to the Chiefs two years ago, but the fact that the love of your life played a part in it made it even sweeter. As the confetti sprinkled down, covering the field in a sea of midnight green, silver, and black, you and Rafe found your way to each other, embracing like you hadn't seen each other in weeks. During the game, you'd been a bundle of nerves, only truly relaxing during Kendrick's halftime performance, but now you finally felt like you could breathe easy.

"I'm so proud of you, baby," you said, your eyes welling up with happy tears. You grabbed Rafe's face and kissed him deeply; he returned the kiss with equal fervor and let his hands slide to your ass. Normally you wouldn't be down for such blatant PDA, but it was a special occasion.

The night passed in a blur, filled with photo ops and plenty of revelry. The streets of New Orleans buzzed with energy, and you lived for it. You celebrated with and embraced your fellow WAGs, who'd become your family over the past two years. Rafe was in his element, popping bottles of champagne and laughing with his fellow players, and it made your heart swell with pride.

You were still feeling post-game euphoria, but part of you was ready to return to your hotel and wind down. You clung to Rafe, putting your head in his lap, and he flashed you a fond grin, stroking your hair.

"You ready to head out, baby?" Rafe murmured in your ear, and you hummed in response.

The two of you said your goodbyes and caught a ride back to the Hilton. You loved getting all dolled up for gameday, but the thought of showering and changing into some comfy pajamas was very appealing.

Once you and Rafe arrived back in your room, you stripped down to your bra and panties, preparing for a nice, long, hot shower. Rafe’s eyes hungrily raked up and down your body, and it gave you a thrill that even after all these years, he was still obsessed with your body.

"You gonna join me in the shower, Rafey, or just stand there?" you teased him, your grin a mile wide.

Rafe chuckled, his eyes darkening. "Would love to. But there's something I wanna do first, baby. I want to celebrate my win with you—properly."

A shiver of pleasure ran through your body. "Tell me you want this too, baby," Rafe said, gazing intently at you.

You bit your lip, looking at Rafe with a burning desire. "Yes, Rafey. Want this so bad."

Before you could even blink, Rafe's lips were on yours, kissing you with a passion only reserved for moments like these. Soon, though, he began to roam, nipping and kissing at your jaw, your neck, that special space behind your ear that drove you wild.

Rafe expertly unhooked your bra with one hand, flinging it to another corner of the room, before picking you up and tossing you onto the bed. He sank to his knees, slowly pulling down your panties and letting out a pleasured moan at the gossamer strands of slick that clung to the fabric.

"Fucking pretty," he marveled, before hungrily diving into your wet cunt. Rafe loved playing football—he lived for the game—but his second favorite pastime was eating pussy, without a doubt. You writhed in pleasure as Rafe's tongue glided along your folds, pumping in and out of your opening before finally giving your clit some much-needed attention.

"Rafe—oh fuck—that feels so good," you whimpered as Rafe languidly sucked at your clit.

You felt a low heat in your belly as you reached your peak. Your hands flew to Rafe's hair, gently tugging at it as he took the hint and buried his face even closer into your pussy.

Your vision went white for a second as you cummed, coating Rafe's face with your slick. "Holy shit, baby," Rafe murmured, bending down to kiss you and give you a taste of the essence on his lips. "You taste so fuckin' good."

You noticed the massive tent Rafe was sporting in his pants and moaned, rubbing your legs together. “Let me take care of you, baby,” you purred. “The champ deserves his prize, after all.”

Rafe grinned lazily, quickly pulling off his pants and boxers before lying back on the bed. You knelt before him, salivating at his dick, its pink mushroom tip already wet with precum. You went to work cleaning his tip, causing your boyfriend to lose his composure.

"Shit, baby, you're so good with your mouth," Rafe said, letting out a moan as you licked up and down his shaft.

You lowered your head, taking Rafe's length into your mouth. You bobbed your head up and down, mouthing and licking at his cock while you fondled his balls with both hands.

"Ah, fuck, just like that, baby," Rafe groaned. "Good girl."

Those two words were like a lightning bolt to your core, spurring you to speed up your actions. Rafe grunted, throwing his head back in pleasure.

"Baby—shit—I'm gonna cum." Rafe let out a particularly feral grunt before spilling down your throat, watching as you dutifully swallowed every drop.

Rafe paused, lost in a post-nut daze, before lifting you and laying you back on the bed. He took his sweet time kissing every square inch of your body, making sure to give your tits extra attention. Rafe kissed and sucked at your nipples, eliciting more whines from you as you gripped the bedsheets.

"Rafey, you're such a tease," you wailed, bucking your hips as Rafe lavished your thighs with kisses.

Rafe smirked devilishly at you. "Impatient, are we? My pretty girl that desperate f'me to fuck her stupid? Don't worry—I'll give you what you need, yeah?"

Rafe beckoned you to join him back on the bed, effortlessly turning you around so you were lying on your stomach. You stuck your ass up in the air, feeling a giddy anticipation in your gut.

Rafe slowly pushed himself into you, both of you moaning at the sensation. You said a silent word of thanks to whoever invented birth control as Rafe gripped your hips, thrusting his cock in and out of your pussy.

"Goddamn, this pussy...so tight, hot, and wet for me," Rafe growled, snapping his hips as he buried himself deep inside you.

You felt dizzy, your thoughts filled with nothing except the immense pleasure Rafe was giving you. "Oh Rafey—fuck, right there," you sighed, groaning as his cock hit your g-spot.

"Can't wait to fill up this pretty pussy," Rafe muttered, deliciously stretching your walls with his length. "Yeah? You want my cum baby?" Your cunt clamped down on Rafe's dick in response, causing his eyes to roll back.

"Squeezing me so good, baby," he praised.

Just as you were in the throes of passion, Rafe...stopped, slowly pulling out of you. You pouted, already missing your boyfriend's touch.

"'m sorry, baby," Rafe said, kissing your forehead. "Just wait a sec, I got an idea."

Rafe got off the bed and rifled through your suitcase before finding a kelly green jersey with "Cameron" and his number on the back. "Y'know...I always had this fantasy of fuckin' my girl with my jersey on," he said, flashing the dirtiest grin. "Will you indulge me for the night, princess?"

You sat up, eyeing your boyfriend flirtatiously. "Hell yeah, that sounds really hot."

Rafe returned to the bed, sitting you on his lap and watching you pull the jersey over your head. Then he quickly bent you over the mattress, stuffing you with his cock again. He pistoned his hips, admiring his name on your back and the fact that you were wearing his jersey—and nothing else.

"You look so damn sexy with my name on you," Rafe drawled. "Shows that you're fuckin' mine, baby."

You cried out, feeling your legs start to shake. "Ah, yes, Rafe—'m all yours."

"Are you close, baby?" Rafe asked. When you nodded, he slid a hand down between your legs and rubbed circles on your clit. "C'mon baby. Make a mess all over my cock."

Your insides felt like a shaken-up soda bottle that was about to explode. You let out a yelp as your pussy spasmed, creaming all over Rafe's cock.

"I'm close, baby," Rafe warned, burying his head in the side of your neck. Rafe's hips stuttered as he released his load, and you sighed happily at the sensation of his warm, sticky cum filling you up.

Rafe slowly pulled out of you, licking his lips at the sight of his spunk dribbling out of you. He pulled you close to him, nuzzling your neck. "Baby—I think that was some of the best sex we've ever had."

You giggled. "You just won a freakin' Super Bowl, Rafe. You deserve nothing but the best."

Rafe looked at you fondly. "This is gonna sound so fuckin' corny but with you, I already feel like I've won. I'm the luckiest man on the damn planet."

You playfully rolled your eyes. "That was corny as fuck—but I liked it."

"And I like you," Rafe easily replied, peppering your cheeks with kisses.

You giggled. "I'll like you even more once we're both cleaned, though."

Rafe chuckled. "One shower, coming up, princess." He whisked you away to the bathroom, where y'all actually showered—you were both too spent to engage in more funny business.

Once the two of you were fully clean and in your coziest pjs (and had done your best to clean up the sheets), you and Rafe snuggled together in bed. You gazed lovingly at Rafe as you stroked his hair.

"Whatcha staring at, pretty girl?" Rafe asked, an amused glint in his eye.

"Just thinking about my boyfriend. He's really handsome and funny and he just won a Super Bowl," you playfully replied.

"Wow, he sounds like a real catch," Rafe remarked, stroking your hip.

"Yeah, he's pretty great. I'm lucky to have him," you said, gently kissing Rafe's lips.

Today had been one hell of a day. But as thrilling as the big game and all the festivities were, you had the best time right here, in Rafe's arms.

[lazysoulwriter]

a little too close. - drew starkey.

She loved her job. Working as a costume designer meant she got to be around some of the most talented actors in the industry, creating pieces that would bring their characters to life. It was creative, exciting, and full of challenges—just the way she liked it.

But what she hadn’t accounted for was Drew Starkey walking into her fitting room and throwing her entire sense of professionalism out the window.

The room was quiet except for the soft hum of the studio lights above. It was the first fitting, and Drew stood there, shirt off, in nothing but his jeans and a nervous smile. He couldn’t deny the growing tension as she stood there, her measuring tape in hand, eyeing him closely. The air was thick, and he could feel every inch of the space between them.

“Okay, this might feel a little... weird,” she said, clearing her throat as she adjusted her posture, the tape slipping between her fingers. Drew swallowed, trying to focus on the task at hand. But every time she moved closer to take his measurements, his body betrayed him. The way her fingers grazed his skin, the way she gently tugged at the waistband of his jeans—it was enough to make him lose his composure.

“Sorry if I’m making this awkward,” he said with a laugh, trying to ease the tension.

But she didn’t laugh back. Instead, her eyes flicked up to his, locking for a brief, electrifying moment. She tilted her head slightly, biting her lip as she measured around his shoulders. “It’s fine. Just... stay still,” she replied, voice a little lower than usual.

Drew couldn’t help but notice how her breath seemed to catch every time she leaned in a little too close. It felt like the space between them was shrinking, and the more they tried to pretend it wasn’t there, the more it consumed them.

A week later, the second fitting arrived. Drew had been looking forward to it. Not because of the costume—he was already used to wearing whatever the costume department picked out—but because he couldn’t get that first moment with her out of his mind. He couldn’t tell if it was just the chemistry of the job or something more, but every time he thought about it, his heart picked up its pace.

When he walked into the room, she was already there, the same measuring tape in hand, but this time there was something different about the way they interacted. Less formality, more... ease.

“Here we go again,” Drew said with a grin, taking his shirt off in one swift movement.

She glanced up, her eyes quickly scanning him before her lips curled into a playful smile. “This should be fun.”

The tension from the first fitting was still there, but this time it felt different, lighter—more like an unspoken promise than an awkward mistake.

“So, tell me about your character,” she asked as she adjusted his pants, bending down slightly to fix the hem. Drew, feeling particularly bold, leaned closer.

“Let’s just say, he’s a lot like me—charming, confident, and... very good looking,” he replied, his voice oozing with a playful arrogance. She rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress the smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

“You sure about that?” she teased, standing up and looking him over. “I think you might have a little competition.”

Before he could ask what she meant, she stepped in a little too close for comfort, making it impossible for him to ignore the way their bodies seemed to align. His heart skipped a beat.

“I think you’re right,” he muttered, lowering his gaze. He wasn’t sure who moved first—whether it was him leaning in, or her meeting him halfway—but the next thing he knew, his lips were on hers, soft and eager, the kiss charged with months of unspoken tension.

When they pulled away, both breathless, Drew ran a hand through his hair, his grin impossible to hide. “Well, I guess that wasn’t too bad.”

She chuckled, taking a step back, trying to act like nothing happened. “I’m going to call that... a wardrobe malfunction,” she teased, a smirk playing on her lips.

The third fitting came, and Drew found himself anxiously awaiting their next encounter. The spark between them was undeniable now, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep his cool. When he walked into the room, she was there, looking as effortlessly stunning as always, her hands busy with fabric, but her eyes lighting up when she saw him.

“You’re early,” she said, glancing at the clock.

“I couldn’t wait to see you,” he said, his voice low, a flirty edge to it.

She raised an eyebrow, but the smile that followed was anything but innocent. “Careful, or you might end up getting in trouble.”

“You like trouble,” he shot back, his gaze locked on hers, the tension between them thick enough to cut with a knife.

And before she could say anything more, he closed the distance between them. His lips found hers again, this time more urgent, more desperate, as if neither of them could resist any longer. His hands slid to her waist, pulling her closer, his heart racing with the anticipation of something they both knew was inevitable.

When they finally broke apart, her breath coming in soft gasps, he cupped her cheek gently, his thumb brushing her skin. “You’re not getting away that easily,” he whispered.

“I wasn’t planning on it,” she replied, her voice almost teasing.

“I was thinking maybe... we could grab dinner after this?” he asked, his gaze flicking down to her lips before meeting her eyes again.

She smiled, the playful glint in her eyes never leaving. “I think that sounds like a good idea,” she said, her fingers grazing his arm as she stepped back to adjust his jacket.

Later that night, as they sat across from each other at a dimly lit restaurant, their chemistry was undeniable. The flirty banter continued, the attraction only growing stronger with every passing minute.

When Drew leaned in to kiss her once more, the world seemed to stop—just for a moment, as if nothing else mattered but the two of them. And as they pulled away, both breathless and smiling, they knew that this was just the beginning.

[lbjeff]

When the Batfamily know about Danny’s gossip ability, they envy Jason so bad that they think about it at night and cry themselves to awake

 During the interview show that the Wayne attend (minus Dick because he still have works at police station)

Vicky Vale *showing the picture Danny hand in hand with Jason, walking down the street, believing that she will make up the drama out of this family*: Mr. Jason, it seem like you are comfortable to showing your love life with the world. I’m sure that your father and brothers are supportive. Mr.Drake, what do you think about Danny Fenton, who may be new brother-in-law?

Tim * sleeping depression and tired about the case that he had worked on a whole week*: I wish he were mine 

This is just another shitpost, a copy and paste from what I spammed my friend at like 5pm- ish Jason or Red-Hood who's known for having 'information from the dead/graves' but his boyfriend is Danny 'phantom' Fenton and will just yap to his boyfriend over ghost gossip and not even realize that he's sharing new/unheard of information to Jason over crimes and other things happening around Gotham or in crime alley

People gossip but the dead talk, and Danny is all too happy to have someone to listen to all the ghost drama with him that the man will yap to Jason for hours. (Jason has timed it before, it got to hour 5 before he called it a day)

No one can figure out how why or when Jason started becoming two or three steps ahead of every villain/gang/goon/whatever, calling 'anonymous' tips into the batfam/police/whoever tf, days or even weeks before anything happened.

Jason who somehow ends up scaring the shit out of the bad guys because they 'changed their plans three times already to lose Red-hood' but yet, somehow, he's waiting for them by the time they arrive to where ever they were meeting up to do their illegal business with a coffee in hand and the police already called and arriving in 5 minutes.

[c4toru]

Make Villian Nanami as ur bf hcs ok byee *dies*

i love this reallll bad, i wrote him as a cursed spirit in this but i hope this still satisfies you :p

curse!nanami who was so intrigued by your presence, how you carried yourself so well. you must’ve been one of the good ones, at least that’s how he saw it in his eyes

curse!nanami who found himself purposely re-routing his day to accompany yours, in hopes of seeing your face. he looked forward to seeing how your hair looked, if your aura felt any different from the other 6 days he saw you, all unbeknownst to you.

curse!nanami who would do his daily routines imagining if you would enjoy doing them with him. would you enjoy the daily strolls he takes through his garden, would you stay up waiting for him late at night while he’s out hunting, would you even help clean his wounds after a rough battle?

curse!nanami who started mysteriously leaving wilted roses at your doorstep and workplace only to wait nearby to watch your reaction from afar. at least he’s trying..?

curse!nanami who finally started appearing in your daily life by showing up at the local flower shop you always stopped by, he just wanted to ensure that any other curses knew not to involve themselves with you

curse!nanami who enjoyed your company. he liked the way you rambled on about which flowers you thought smelled the best or even which ones brightened your mood the most. one could even say.. you were enjoying his presence a lot more than he could imagine

curse!nanami who after a full year of enticing you with romantic gestures, comes clean about his lifestyle. all of it, good and bad. you cut off all contact with him for months, begging him to leave you alone forever. . . and he did just that

curse!nanami who started wallowing in his own self pity, forcing himself to go out on multiple hunts per day to drown himself in his own misery. it all came to a halt when you appeared in front of him, sobbing and babbling on how much you miss him near you.

curse!nanami who promises to shield you away from his lifestyle, to only show you the good sides of himself. his chest hurts to see you in pain, wanting to drain all the negativity out of you and dwell in it himself.

curse!nanami who parades you around his garden during the day before setting off to fulfill his evil duties at night. he’s happy as long as you’re content with the life you live by his side, and you were! most of the time . .

curse!nanami who always apologizes first when you get into an argument, he doesn’t usually care for such little matters but he knows how emotional humans are. you’re so delicate, apologizing under any circumstances is the least he could do to make sure his pretty girlfriend is happy

curse!nanami who is now slowly assimilating to you. he wakes up early in the morning with you, gets ready for the day with you, bathes with you, even sleeping peacefully next to you.

it’s one of those nights where you sit comfortably in silence, embraced in each others warmth. you rest your head on his chest while he threads his thick fingers through your silky hair. “kento, i wish you could stay with me tonight.. don’t want you out there” you pout, rubbing circles with your pointer finger on his broad chest.

“i know, i know pretty. next time.” he replies as he shushes you to sleep, rubbing his thumb gently on your cheek. once you doze off, he’s up and gone but you always know he’ll be there in the morning, arms wrapped around you as you soak in his warmth.

a/n : writing this so late at night so it’s all just pure brainrot lol. ty guys for all the reqs, i’ll get to them soon i promise :p

[gracie-eilish]

Could you please do something where reader is like super introverted but comfortable around billie (cuz they're dating 😛) and one day reader is just yapping so much like ranting, but then she realizes she's talking a lot and gets embarrassed and starts to apologize a bunch but billie finds it absolutely adorable when she gets passionate about things since its not too often she does it?

an: thanks for the requestttt babyyyyy:) i hope i like itttt🧡🧡🧡

Heart Eyes😍

It wasn’t often that you talked this much.

Billie knew that.

She knew you were quiet, introverted—the kind of person who preferred listening over speaking, who felt more at home in the background rather than the spotlight. She never minded. If anything, she loved it, loved the way you opened up just enough for her, how you never felt the need to fill the silence when you were together.

But sometimes… sometimes when you two were alone, you got carried away.

Like right now.

You weren’t even sure what had started it. One moment, you and Billie were curled up on the couch, her fingers lazily tracing patterns against your thigh, the two of you basking in that warm, easy silence you always fell into. And then—you started talking.

It was something small at first. Maybe a comment about a show you had been watching, something that had been bothering you about a certain character.

“I just don’t get it,” you huffed, shifting against the cushions as Billie let out a small hum of acknowledgment. “Like—why would they build up this whole storyline just to throw it away? Do they not understand how character arcs work?”

Billie smirked, eyes flicking up from where her head rested against your shoulder. “Oh no,” she teased. “Here we go.”

You shot her a playful glare, but that only encouraged her grin.

“I’m serious, Billie!” You sat up a little straighter, suddenly feeling the need to gesture as you spoke. “They spent three seasons setting this up! And then what? They just—throw it away like it’s nothing?” You scoffed, hands flying in frustration. “What was even the point? It’s lazy writing, that’s what it is. They had so much potential, and they ruined it!”

Billie watched you with an amused glint in her eyes, her lips twitching like she was holding back a smile.

“I mean, tell me I’m wrong,” you pressed, turning to her expectantly. “You know it was bad. Like, objectively bad.”

Billie finally let out a soft laugh, shaking her head. “Oh, babe, I’m not about to argue with you. You’re on a roll right now.”

That only fueled you more.

“Exactly! And it’s not even just this show—writers always do this! It’s like they don’t trust the audience to appreciate a slow-burn arc anymore.” You sighed dramatically, running a hand through your hair. “Like, God forbid they actually develop their characters instead of just rushing to wrap things up in the most unsatisfying way possible.”

Billie let out another hum, her fingers absentmindedly tracing circles against your knee. “Mm, sounds like someone should just write their own show.”

You paused, considering. “Honestly? I could do a better job than half these people.”

Billie snorted. “No doubt.”

“I’m serious!” You shifted to face her more fully, your expression animated. “If I ever wrote a show, I’d actually respect my characters. I wouldn’t just throw out their development for shock value.”

Billie’s grin widened. “Oh, I believe you, baby.”

You went on, too caught up in your thoughts to notice the way she was looking at you.

“And another thing,” you continued, “it’s like they don’t even watch their own show. How do you write for characters you clearly don’t understand? How do you spend years creating something just to betray the entire foundation of what made it good?”

Billie bit her lip, watching as your hands gestured wildly, your eyes practically glowing with passion.

You barely stopped to breathe, completely wrapped up in your rant. “And don’t even get me started on how they completely sidelined the best character. Like, hello? They deserved way more screentime—”

Then, suddenly, mid-sentence—

You froze.

Your face went hot, your stomach flipping as you realized just how much you had been saying.

“Oh my god,” you breathed, your hands immediately retreating to your lap. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

You turned to Billie, half-expecting her to look overwhelmed, or maybe even a little annoyed.

Instead—

She was staring at you.

Like, full-on staring.

Her blue eyes were impossibly soft, lips slightly parted, and if you weren’t mistaken—her cheeks were a little pink.

She looked completely entranced.

“Billie?” You blinked, suddenly very aware of how quiet the room had gotten. You shifted under her gaze, ducking your head as embarrassment settled in your chest. “I was totally rambling, I—I didn’t even let you say anything. I’ll stop now.”

But then Billie melted.

Like, literally melted.

She let out the softest little sigh, her entire body going warm against you as she reached forward, cupping your face with both hands. Her thumbs brushed over your cheeks, her expression so stupidly in love that you felt even more flustered.

“Are you kidding?” she whispered, her voice dipping into something soft, something almost dazed.

You swallowed, blinking rapidly. “W-What?”

Billie’s smile was slow, her lips curling at the edges like she couldn’t contain it.

“That was adorable.”

Your stomach flipped.

Your lips parted, but before you could even think of what to say, she was already leaning in, pressing the softest, most lingering kiss to your forehead.

“Baby,” she murmured, her nose brushing against your skin as she pulled back just enough to meet your eyes. “You never talk that much, and I swear I have actual heart eyes watching you right now.”

You made a noise in protest, your face burning. “Billie—”

“No, seriously,” she insisted, grinning now, her fingers sliding down to gently cradle your jaw. “You were so passionate, I could feel how much you cared, and—ugh, you’re just so cute.”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Stop.”

Billie giggled—an actual, breathless little giggle.

She pried your hands away from your face with ease, tugging them into her lap before lacing your fingers together.

“Why are you embarrassed?” she teased, tilting her head. “I loved it. Love when you talk like that.”

You chewed on your lip, still trying to process the ridiculous amount of fondness in her eyes. “…You do?”

Billie sighed dramatically, squeezing your hands. “Baby. I love everything about you.”

You exhaled slowly, the warmth in your chest growing until it was almost unbearable.

Billie beamed, looking entirely too pleased with herself. “Now—go on.”

You blinked. “What?”

She grinned. “Keep talking. I wanna hear more.”

Your heart stuttered.

You hesitated, but the way she was looking at you—the way she was practically soaking up your every word—it made the nerves melt away just enough.

So you did.

You kept talking.

And Billie listened.

She held onto your every word like it mattered, like you mattered.

And maybe, just maybe—

You’d let yourself get carried away more often.

[sweetverine]

could you do something with logan comforting a crying reader?

logan comforting a crying reader.

warnings : pure fluff, nothing else, established relationship, pet names (logan calls reader sweetheart baby and sugar), written with logan in wolverine 2013 in mind.

a/n : i hope it's something like what you were hoping for anon, i really like soft logan i guess. i hope to write more stuff like this in the future, i need logan to take care of me!!!, nothing more, please enjoy (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧

the cold night hits in the apartment after a long and tiring day, you enter the small apartment slamming the door, logan from the couch observed this strange attitude of yours, he smelled in the air that something was not too right. as you headed straight to your shared room, he raised an eyebrow, this was quite new, not even a hi? how are you? where was your sweet smile? you always greeted him and chatted about each other's day, this was rare.

you entered the room, reluctantly removing your uncomfortable shoes, it didn't take long for you to sink your head into the comfortable pillow, letting the contained tears begin to escape from your eyes, moistening the pillow a little.

logan was quick to appear in the room, approaching the bed with a worried expression. He sits down beside you, the bed sinking under his weight, his large hand moving to your back, caressing it as he whispers, "what happened, sweetheart?” on your ear, trying to get to see your face. “come on, baby.. let me see ya..” He mutters as you get up, Sitting next to him.

your tears seemed to never stop, as you cried logan brushed away the rebellious strands of your hair that stuck to your wet face. "shh… take a deep breath okay? tell me what happened.." he says looking at you with love and understanding. you blinked a few times, trying to calm yourself down, he pulled you on his lap, letting you hide in his neck.

“i'm tired.. it was a long day and things didn't go well today..” you babble between tears, logan sighs as he keeps caressing your hair. “was it that bad baby?” you nod against his neck, his body began to rock you a little, trying to calm you down. it is warm, he is really warm. it is well known that logan james howlett is not a man of too many words, and in situations like this he really didn't know what to say.

you sob a few times before calming down completely, your head was pounding like crazy, like it was being hammered. you were crying inconsolably, it was obvious that it would pass at some point or another. you sighed as you let yourself be carried away by logan's slow rocking, your body snuggled more against his as you dried your tears. “thank you.” your somewhat hoarse voice whispers.

“anytime, sugar.” he says, kissing your forehead, he let you stay on his lap as long as you needed, he loved having you in his arms anyway, your cheeks were red and just like your eyes, your eyelashes were soaked and your lips were swollen. "let’s put on your favorite movie. i’ll grab ya something to eat, and then ya can take a warm shower. ya need to get your mind off this, yeah?” logan looks back at you as he lightly squeezes your arm, a silent gesture of ‘i am here’

he gently pulled you off his lap, sitting you on the bed. you were feeling so much better, you had a boyfriend who actually listened to you and cared about you. you were happy that you had found a man as attentive as him. logan came back with a glass of water. "take this, sweetheart.” he says, handling the glass to you. you drink the water slowly, he sighs and caresses your back. “ya know that i love ya, right?” logan says, looking at you lovingly.

“i love you too, lo.” you mutter, leaving the glass on the nightstand. he plants a soft, warm kiss on your lips. he will always be with you, especially when you need him the most.

[myloveer0]

My lovely darling

Girlfriend Ambessa Medarda X Fem!reader

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Summary: You were just trying to survive your family reunion when Ambessa Medarda—your girlfriend—showed up unannounced. Now, you have no choice but to introduce her to your entire clan. What’s got you nervous isn’t just introducing any partner—it’s the fact that you’re dating a woman who also happens to be twice your age.

💋 Enough with the smut we need sweet girlfriend Ambessa💋

All of the Ambessa's fic are mostly smut. Now i want write different this time ;)

Part I

The night of the gathering was full of noise, the endless chatter, catching up with your cousins which you hadn’t seen in ages, and men cheering at the current football game. It was so noisy and chaotic which was stressing you out.

But still, there was something comforting about seeing those familiar faces. Your aunties laughing out loud echoing from the kitchen, your uncle's bad jokes that somehow got worse every year, the kids running around and toddler crying the brain out.

Family gatherings were never your thing. Too many questions, too much noise, and way too many relatives. You just don't have a choice but to obey your mother since it only happens once a year. Everyone minding their own business. It was almost funny, though, how everyone acted like nothing ever happened. Just last year, there was that massive fight over your Grandpa’s inheritance and the land rights. You thought your family would never be the same again.

But here we were, gathered like old times—those heated arguments maybe forgotten. This is what families like. Everyone was busy bragging about their new cars, job promotions, or perfectly curated family vacations.

You were doing a decent job of blending into the background, sipping your martini and pretending to care as your aunt went on about her new Victoria’s Secret bag that definitely looked fake.

It was fake, but you weren’t rude enough to point it out. You just kept nodding, trying your best to look impressed.

“So, do you have a boyfriend yet?” Your auntie suddenly asked. Wine glass in hand, eyes sparkling with nosy curiosity. “Anyone special in your life?”

But of course, it wouldn't be a family gathering without that question.

You forced a polite smile, which lead to an awkward laugh the kind that doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

Your auntie's release a collective gasp, followed by the inevitable assumption. You wanna roll your eyes.

Not surprised… are they asking you because you’re the only adult in the family who still hasn’t brought a boyfriend this year? Just like every other year. Meanwhile, your cousins are busy introducing their partners to the family—even the one who’s still in high school. And there you are… all alone.

“You know, Y/n, your cousin Emily is already married and has a two-year-old son. She’s doing so well! You really should think about settling down, sweetheart. You’re not getting any younger, and it’s harder to have kids when you’re older.”

Ah, yes. Emily—the family’s golden child. Same age as you, but somehow light-years ahead in the game of life, according to everyone else. Married, a kid, probably a dog too, for good measure. It’s like she checked off every box on the ‘Perfect Life’ checklist, and here you are alone while everyone assuming you where still trying to find a pen.

You'd force a smile, nod along, and pretend like it didn’t bother you. But inside? You was screaming. If only they knew.

You were doing your best to avoid another round of those questions when your cousin tapped you on the shoulder.

“Hey, Y/n” he whispered, glancing around while a plate food in his hand. “Someone’s looking for you outside.”

You blinked. “Who?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Some lady. But, uh… she looks like someone important. She was kinda scary too..”

That made you pause. Someone important? You racked your brain, trying to think of who would show up here, of all places. But with no other choice, you set your martini down and asked to leave. As you made your way to the front door, a strange feeling settled in your chest.

And then you stepped outside the gate.

You froze.

There, standing by her sleek black car, was her.

Ambessa Medarda.

Your girlfriend.

She wore a sharp red and black suit, tailored to perfection, exuding power with every inch of her posture. The soft evening light glinted off her gold earrings, and her confident stance made it impossible to look anywhere else. Your heart did this weird little lurch, and your chest tightened with a mix of excitement and full-blown panic.

Because what the hell was she doing here?

Behind her—not far away—was another black car, more like an convoy. And there you saw Ricktus, Ambessa’s head security. He glanced in your direction, giving a slight bow when your eyes met. You returned a small smile before starting to walk toward Ambessa.

You barely had time to process before Ambessa large build crossed the distance between you, her hand sliding behind your neck as she pulled you in for a kiss—right there, in the open, in front of your parents house. Your brain screamed at you to stop her, to do something, but your body? Yeah, it had other plans. You melted into the kiss, your nerves buzzing under your skin, and when she finally pulled back, you were left breathless, trying to collect your thoughts.

“Ambessa,”You whispered, glancing nervously over your shoulder to make sure no one had seen. Thank goodness.. you didn't have a front yard party. “What… what are you doing here?”

Ambessa smiled, that infuriatingly calm, self-assured smile that always made you weak in the knees. “I missed you. little one ”

You blinked. “It’s been barely two weeks.”

“Too long,” Ambessa said without missing a beat, seriously? How can she be so clingy and possesive at the same time. Which was kinda cute to be honest. “So, I came to see you. little one. Why? You don’t look happy. I was hoping you’d jump at me out of pure rejoice.”

You swallowed hard, heart thudding in your chest. You would have jumped at her—hell, you would’ve run into her arms if she weren’t standing right in front of your parents’ house, of all places. The timing couldn’t have been worse. But God, seeing her again stirred something deep inside you. Yes, it been just two weeks but it felt like forever.

“I—” you started, but the words stuck in your throat. Instead, you just stared at her, taking in the way she stood there like she owned the whole damn world, that familiar smirk playing on her lips, the glint of mischief in her eyes. You missed her. More than you’d let yourself admit.

Ambessa raised an eyebrow, stepping closer, her presence overwhelming as always. “What’s the matter, dear? Cat got your tongue?” she teased, her voice a low, velvety whisper that made your skin prickle. She glanced at the house behind you, then back at your face, reading you like an open book. “Ah… I see.” Her grin widened. “Didn’t realize you’d be home home.”

You shot her a look, trying to keep your cool, but it was impossible with her standing so close, with that look in her eyes.

“I missed you,” you finally blurted out, the words tumbling out before you could stop them.

Ambessa’s smirk softened, just a hint, and for a fleeting second, something warmer flickered in her gaze. But it was gone just as quickly as it came, replaced by that same cocky confidence.

“I know,” she said simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I always know.”

Her words hit you like a punch to the chest, but before you could even process it, she stepped closer, her hand brushing your arm, her touch sending a jolt through your entire body.

“So,” she murmured, her voice low and dangerous, “Are you going to invite me in, or do I have to stand out here all day while your parents wonder who the hell their daughter’s been dreaming about?”

You blinked. Your eyes slowly widened as your stomach flipped. Reality snapped back into focus. This was bad.Very bad. How can you two flirting in this situation.

“Bess, you can’t just… show up like this,” you hissed, lowering your voice. “This isn’t the right time.”

This wasn’t at all how you pictured the family reunion going. They can't meet Ambessa. Not now.

She raised an eyebrow, her expression unreadable. “Why not?”

You swallowed hard, the words catching in your throat. “Because my parents don’t even know I have a lover. They’ve known me as single for the past five years. Let alone a woman who’s…”

Ambessa’s gaze locked onto yours, sharp and unwaverin like daring you “Continue your words, little one.”

You bit your lip, your cheeks warming as you dropped your eyes to the ground. You didn’t want to offend her.

“W-who’s… well, twice my age.”

Ambessa didn’t flinch. Not even a flicker of surprise crossed her face. Like she knew it was coming along. The gap—had always been the issue people latched onto. You told yourself you didn’t care what they thought. But sometimes… sometimes it stung.

But not Ambessa.

She just tilted her head, eyes sharp and unwavering, that usual confidence. “Then are you embarrassed?”

Your eyes widened, and you snapped your gaze up to meet hers, a frown pulling at your lips. Is that what she think of you? “Of course not! Don’t even think about it that way, Bess. You’re—” Your voice began to cracked, the emotion bubbling up before you could stop it. You were having a hard time sinking all of this. It was too sudden.

“You’re one of the greatest things that’s ever happened to me. I’m proud to be yours. Every time i'm with you i feel so whole and I'm not letting you go cause your mine. I’d stand on the highest rooftop and shout it to the whole damn world if I had to. I’d tell everyone you’re my girlfriend, that you mean everything to me—”

You didn’t even realize the tears had started falling until Ambessa’s thumb brushed against your cheek, wiping them away with surprising gentleness. That small gesture broke something in you—the floodgates opened, and you couldn’t hold it back anymore.

You hated when she thought like that. Like she wasn’t important to you. Like you didn’t value your relationship just because of that damn age gap everyone kept pointing out.

You didn’t want her to ever feel that way.

Ambessa didn’t say a word. She just pulled you into her arms, strong and steady, like nothing in the world could touch you when you were with her. Being wrapped in her embrace was your safe haven.

Her hand cradled the back of your head, and you felt her breath warm against your temple “Shh… Forgive me.. Let them talk. Let them think whatever the hell they want. You’re mine. And that’s all that matters.”

“I just…” you gasped between sobs, clinging to her suit. God! You just ruined her expensive suit. “I don’t care what they say, but it—it gets to me sometimes. Like we’re wrong. But we’re not. We’re not, right?”

Ambessa pulled back just enough to cup your face in her hands, forcing you to meet her gaze. Her eyes were fierce, unwavering, like they always were, but there was something softer beneath the surface now—a tenderness she rarely showed.

“We are never wrong,” she said, her voice firm, leaving no room for doubt. “Let them talk. Let them think whatever the hell they want. They don’t know us. They don’t know you.” She leaned in, her forehead resting gently against yours, her breath warm and steady. “And I don’t give a damn about anything but this—you and me. That’s all that matters.”

Her words wrapped around you, and for the first time, you felt the tension ease from your chest. You let out a shaky breath, nodding slowly, you buried your face against her chest, clutching her like she was the only solid thing in the world.

“I don’t care what they say,” you whispered through the tears. “I just… I love you so much, Bess.” voice raw but sure. “I love you so much.”

A rare, genuine smile tugged at Ambessa's lips—one of those smiles she only ever gave you. She pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, lingering there for a moment before pulling back just enough to look into your eyes.

“I know you do,” she murmured, her thumb brushing away the last of your tears. “And I love you more than all their words combined. They can’t touch what we have. I wouldn't let them. They have to get to me first”

A small smile tugged at your lips. You slowly wiped your tears before gently pulling away from her embrace.

“You know no one can get past you,” you chuckled, wrapping your arms around her waist and looking up into her eyes.

Who would even dare to challenge a figure like her—unless they had a death wish or wanted to live through hell itself.

A cocky smile graced Ambessa’s lips. “Precisely, little one.”

“I’m sorry for being so emotional,” you whispered, your voice still shaky. “It’s not that I’m embarrassed… It’s just—they’re so important to me. My family—they’re not exactly…” you trailed off, searching for the right word. Ready? Accepting? Prepared for the force of nature that is you? None of it felt right.

''i know.. that's why it’s time they found out.”

You stared at her. “Bess…i know but they’ll flip out. They’re not exactly… open-minded about this kind of thing. ”

Her gaze softened just a fraction, but there was still steel underneath. “I’m not here to hide. And neither are you.”

You ran a hand through your hair, heart pounding like it was trying to break free from your chest. “ My parents are a little homophobic. They’ll freak out.”

Ambessa stepped closer, her voice low but firm. “Then let them.”

You opened your mouth to argue, but the words wouldn’t come. Because deep down, you knew Ambessa wasn’t going to back down. She never did. And maybe, just maybe, a part of you didn’t want her to.

But that didn’t make this any less terrifying.

She reached out, brushing a strand of hair from my face, her touch surprisingly gentle. “I’m not leaving,” she whispered. “It’s time.”

You blinked at her, trying to gauge if she was really serious. “Bess… it’s just a family thing. You’d be bored.” one last convencing.

She raised an eyebrow, that signature smirk tugging at the corner of her lips. “ You look so adorable with your puppy eyes. But it will not work this time. I think it’s time I met your family.''

You let out a shaky breath, your nerves coiling tighter with every second. Is there anything in this world this woman was afraid off? But as you looked into her eyes—steady, unwavering, hers—you knew there was no talking her out of this.

God help. This was happening.

You knew a moment like this would come. You just didn’t expect it to be today.

Ambessa’s sudden appearance—like she’d just pop out of thin air—sent your heart into overdrive. She always had a knack for catching you off guard, but this? This felt different. You weren’t prepared. You hadn’t braced yourself for the surge of tension crackling in the air between you.

And the worst part? The way she looked.

Standing there like she owned the damn place, dressed to perfection, like every single detail had been planned to the last thread. It made you wonder—had she planned this? You knew Ambessa had been eager to meet your parents. You did. But you always found a way to shift the topic..

Is that why she showed up today? But God—the way that outfit hugged her frame, you couldn’t help but ogle. It was distracting she look so smoking hot and gorgeous. And the subtle gleam in her eye? It told you she was fully aware of the effect she had on you.

Your palms felt clammy, your pulse thrumming in your ears. But as your eyes flicked down to your own outfit, a small wave of relief washed over you. Thank God you’d put some effort into how you looked today. If you’d been caught in something sloppy, standing next to her, you would’ve crumbled right there on the spot.

But still… even dressed your best, Ambessa had a way of making everyone else fade into the background. And you couldn’t help but wonder—how the hell were you supposed to keep your cool standing beside her?

“A-alright,” you whispered, your voice barely steady. “Let’s do this.”

[rejiun]

"I thought I lost you"

Paring: Enhypen x Reader

Summary: Nightmare Panic

Genre: Fluffy comfort, angst-to-fluff, established relationship, soft protective Enhypen!

Warnings: mentions of death and crying

---

Heeseung

Heeseung jolts awake, his heart racing. The image of you slipping away from him, your hand going cold in his, plays over and over in his mind. His chest feels tight as he turns, expecting the warmth of your body beside him—only to find the bed empty.

"Y/N?" His voice is hoarse with panic as he throws off the covers and stumbles into the hallway.

He finds you in the kitchen, making tea, completely unaware of his distress. When you turn and see his shaken expression, you rush over.

"Hey, what's wrong?"

Without a word, he pulls you into a desperate hug, burying his face in your neck. "I thought I lost you," he whispers.

You rub his back soothingly. "It was just a bad dream, love. I'm here."

And as your steady heartbeat grounds him, he finally breathes easier.

---

Jay

Jay wakes up in a cold sweat, gasping for air. The nightmare was too real—your voice crying out, your hand slipping from his grasp.

"Y/N?" He reaches for you, but his hand meets empty sheets.

His heart pounds. He rushes out of the bedroom, checking every room with growing panic.

Then, he hears soft humming from the balcony. He steps outside to find you, wrapped in a blanket, watching the city lights.

You turn at the sound of the door, smiling sleepily. "Jay? What are you doing up?"

Instead of answering, he pulls you into his arms, holding you tight.

"You scared me," he mutters.

You stroke his hair, letting him breathe you in. "I'm right here, Jay."

And that's all he needs to hear.

---

Jake

Jake wakes up with tears in his eyes. His nightmare was cruel, leaving behind the suffocating weight of loss. His instinct is to reach for you, to feel your warmth—

But you’re not there.

Panic floods him. "Y/N?"

He jumps out of bed, rushing to find you. His breathing is erratic as he checks the bathroom, the living room—

Then he spots you, curled up on the couch, peacefully asleep. His knees nearly give out from relief.

He kneels beside you, brushing your hair back. As if sensing him, you stir awake.

"Jake? Why are you—"

Before you can finish, he crushes you into a hug. "Don't do that again," he murmurs. "I need you next to me."

Smiling softly, you guide him back to bed. "Come on, let's sleep."

And with your hand in his, he finally finds peace.

---

Sunghoon

Sunghoon wakes up with a sharp gasp, his entire body trembling. His dream had been a nightmare he never wants to relive. Losing you—watching you disappear—it felt so real.

His hand shoots out to hold yours—only to find cold sheets.

His blood runs cold. "Y/N?"

He stumbles out of bed, his usual composure completely gone. His mind is racing with horrible possibilities until—

He sees you by the window, scrolling through your phone.

The moment you look up, concern crosses your face. "Hoon, what’s wrong?"

He doesn’t answer. Instead, he pulls you into a tight embrace, his hand clutching your back as if you might vanish.

"You weren’t in bed," he mutters, voice small.

You stroke his back soothingly. "I’m here, love. I’m not going anywhere."

And only then does he finally relax.

---

Sunoo

Sunoo wakes up crying. He doesn’t even care how messy or desperate it looks—his nightmare shattered him.

He turns to you for comfort—only to find an empty space beside him.

His heart drops. "Y/N?"

Throwing the blanket off, he rushes out of the room, his vision blurry with panic. "Y/N!"

"Sunoo?"

Your voice snaps him out of his downward spiral. You peek out from the bathroom, toothbrush in hand. "What's wrong?"

His breath stutters as he runs to you, wrapping his arms around your waist.

"I thought—" He swallows hard. "I had a bad dream. A really bad one."

You hug him tightly, swaying gently. "It was just a dream, Sunoo. I’m right here."

And with your arms around him, he finally believes it.

---

Jungwon

Jungwon wakes up with a choked gasp, his entire body shaking. The nightmare still lingers—your absence, the unbearable pain of losing you.

He turns to you, desperate for reassurance, only to find the bed empty.

"Y/N?" His voice is barely above a whisper, but the fear in his chest grows.

He stumbles out of bed, searching the apartment in growing panic. He nearly collapses in relief when he finds you by the bookshelf, searching for a late-night read.

"Wonnie?" You blink at him, confused. "Why are you—"

But he doesn’t let you finish. He pulls you against his chest, his arms tightening around you.

"You scared me," he whispers.

Realizing what happened, you gently stroke his hair. "I'm sorry. It was just a dream, my love."

He sighs, holding you even closer. "Stay with me?"

"Always."

---

Ni-ki

Ni-ki bolts upright, gasping for air. His hands shake as the nightmare replays in his head—the feeling of helplessness, the gut-wrenching loss.

He turns to you, instinctively reaching out—only to find the bed empty.

"Y/N?" His voice cracks.

He scrambles out of bed, his heart pounding as he searches the apartment. "Y/N?"

Then, he finds you—sitting on the floor with headphones on, watching a video. Completely unaware of his panic.

You look up in surprise as he kneels beside you, pulling you into a crushing hug. "Ni-ki? What's wrong?"

"I—" He swallows hard. "I had a nightmare. You were gone."

Understanding dawns in your eyes, and you hug him tighter. "I’m not going anywhere, I promise."

He breathes out shakily. "Can we go back to bed?"

"Of course."

And as he holds onto you, sleep comes much easier.

---

-i loved writing this, it's so cuteee

[blastiebabe]

Hiiii I saw you were open for requests and I liked your writing! if you do Bakugo x reader, can you write Bakugo being with a reader that's very soft? Like, they're kind of quiet, level-headed, mostly unphased by his outbursts, is really kind, etc? <3

stupid paperworks taking you away from me

Bakugo Katsuki x Reader hi anon! thank u for submitting and appreciating my works. here is my take on your request, i hope you enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it :>>

You are currently sitting on your home office with a lot of paperwork in front of you. Your husband Pro Hero Dynamight's agency has been having a lot of missions lately and it your job to proofread every one of the finished mission papers before sending it to the Hero Public Safety Commission.

The past week has been busy for you and your husband, Katsuki. You see each other every day yet have little time to really spend time together. Still, your husband always makes sure that you are always beside him when he sleeps at night.

Even before your marriage, Katsuki has always been grumpy and easily annoyed about things when he is not having enough rest, and this day might just be one of the days where his bad temper and attitude comes out.

While doing paperworks at your home office, you hear Katsuki coming home. "Love, where are you?"

"In here." You say loud enough for him to hear you through the door. Katsuki comes in wearing collar and tie. The man just got back from the press interview about a villain he apprehended last night.

It was the middle of the day but the both of you are at home, he knew he will be coming home after the interview so yesterday he announced to everyone in his agency that you will be working from home so the two of you can spend the time together, and anyone who disagree with that plan should go straight to hell.

He heads straight at you, lowered himself while waiting for you to look at him and give him his most deserved kiss. "A minute, love." You say as you finish a page of what you were reading.

"Ugh." He grumbled but still not moving from his position as he wait. After reading the current page, you turn it over the next page, place it over your desk and face you husband giving him the kiss he was waiting for.

"You did a great job today as well, my love." You say after the kiss while cupping his cheek.

Katsuki crouched to be able to face you. "Yeah?"

"Mm hmm. You really did; I am so proud of you." You kiss his forehead as you feel a smile forming in his lips.

"That might just be the rest I needed." He says.

You shake your head, "Nah, you need a proper rest. Go clean yourself up and change your clothes."

Katsuki stands straight. "You comin' after me?"

"I'd finish this first then all my time for the rest of the day is yours."

"But—" Katsuki was about to make another deal.

"Go, clean yourself up first." You say sweetly as you stroke the back of his arm softly.

Katsuki glared at you before moving out of the office, muttering words under his breath. You smile about this reaction of his, the Pro Hero sometimes might just be acting like rebellious teenager. You continue your work.

___________

It's already 3 pm, an hour after your husband came home. Just a few papers left, and you'll be done with work. Without raising your head, you feel Katsuki inside the home office, he goes straight to your table, placing a cup of hot coffee above your table and then proceed to sit at the couch. He is currently wearing a plaid pajama and a white shirt.

Katsuki makes himself comfortable on the couch while staring at you. "Thank you." You say without batting an eye on him.

"You're not even looking at me?" Katsuki says obviously offended.

You chuckle. "I just need to finish these so we can spend time together without any problems. Besides, these are for your agency, Pro Hero."

You look at him, smiling. "Thank you, my love."

"Tch, damn paperwork taking you away from me. Am I not worth your attention or what?" He asks.

"Ugh! I feel like you hate me or somethin'." He grumbled again as he is not succeeding on getting your full attention. He goes out of the office stomping his feet.

"Love you!" You shout as he leaves. He did not reply back even though you are sure he heard it. Katsuki is that petty, but you know he is not being unreasonable. He has all the right to demand time and attention from you after a hell of a week working his ass off saving people.

And of course, you want to spend time with him as much he wants to spend time with you. So, the sooner you finish your work, the sooner he can have your full attention. Again, you continue your work.

__________

Finally done with your last paperwork, you head to the kitchen where Katsuki is. You see him wearing his pink apron. His body stiffened as he feels your hands wrapping his waist and your body resting on his back.

"What, you have time for me now?" Katsuki tells you with a sass. Your grip on him tightens as you feel your body recharge holding the man before you.

"Stupid paperworks making you all worked up and tired." Katsuki continues his rants. "Stupid people at the agency giving you that much work when they know you and I are spending today together."

You release your hold of Katsuki as you feel a thirst for water. You head in front of the refrigerator and grab a pitcher of water. Katsuki is almost done with the mapo tofu that he is cooking; he started setting up the table.

You see his eyebrows still meeting and his face still unpleased. "Love..." You call him softly as you grab a glass and drink water.

"What?" He didn't even look at you and continued his outburst. "Stupid employees, tomorrow I'm gonna start firing some incompetent assholes."

You know he will not. You let him say the things he wants to say, you knew he needed to do that whenever he feels strong emotions. Because if he doesn't, he's going to keep it all up alone again and let it bottled inside him, you do not want that happening again.

Years of being in this marriage has made you understand and perfect the way to handle Katsuki's sudden outbursts. He is a man who gets easily worked up and misunderstood by people but at the same time, you know that all these anger inside him roots from his care and compassion for the people he cares about.

Just like in high school when he challenged Izuku on Ground Beta, his anger came from his care and guilt as he blames himself from what happened to All Might. Katsuki is a good man, there is no doubt about that. There are just days when you need to let him feel the negatives, and your job as a wife is to listen and help him remember the positives which has never bothered you anyway.

You sit on your side of the table as he assembles your early dinner. "Love..." You call him again softly. You know he can hear you.

"Katsuki..." You try again, as to get his attention and calm down for a second. You are actually feeling tired from all the paperwork you have been through and just want to spend the day resting with him.

Katsuki looks straight at you and kneels at the side of the dining chair where you were seating. "Shit, Princess, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean that. I'm sorry." He apologizes completely regretting the words that came out of his mouth.

"Kats-"

"Just shut the fuck up and eat!" Katsuki shouts as he bring a plate in front of you. You are shocked by the tone he used on you. "Shit." He cursed as he was also shocked by himself and what he just told you.

"I... I promise I didn't mean to. I was just- I was- I don't- ugh-" Katsuki stutters through his words obviously overwhelmed by guilt for shouting at you. He runs his hands on his head as he tugs his hair.

You reach for his hands, removed it from his tight hold on his hair, and brings him closer to you as his head rests on your chest, you wrap your hands behind his nape. "Shh, it's okay. I understand, you were frustrated."

He shakes his head in your arms. "No, no, no. Shouting at you is never okay. I'm really sorry, love. I'm sorry." He breaks free from your arms, stands up, grabs a chair and moves it as close as it can be to you.

Katsuki looks at you straight in the eyes. "Princess, never let me speak like that to you ever again." He said, cupping your left cheek with his right hand. "If I ever speak like that to you ever again, you have all the right to smack the shit out of me, okay?"

Suddenly you feel all the sleepless nights and overwork you have done the past week, you let your head fall in Katsuki's shoulder as he catches you in his arms, wrapping his hands at the small of your back.

You nod as you see the genuine concern and love from your husband's eyes.

"You do not deserve to be talked to like that. I'm sorry my princess, I promise I'll be better and make sure that will never happen again."

"You have done a great job this week, my love. I am so proud of you." Katsuki says as one of his hands caress your hair. You feel vulnerable under his touch as he sings compliments into your ear. "You're so capable. You have been working really hard; you deserve rest my love."

Katsuki closes the space in between as his lips met yours. Expressing his apologies, appreciation, and love for you.

You bring your head up, drawing a space between the two of you, enough to look at him in the eyes. "I love you, Katsuki."

Katsuki smiles as your lips parted. When you opened your eyes, he was already looking at you, his ears and face red. "What a beautiful wife I have. With a kind and patient heart. Just what did I do to deserve you?" Katsuki asks.

"I've talked to the Commission and asked them to have tomorrow as your day off, they agreed. I also filed for a leave. So tomorrow, my hero, you are all mine."

You see the clear shift of shock to a breath of relief in your husband's face. He needed that, you needed that. After all, your rest can only be found in each other's arms. Katsuki is a good man; he has always been, and he always will be. And to be a wife of a great man like Bakugo Katsuki, aren't you lucky?

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ thank u for reading! :>> . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ more of katsuki, here! ♡

[amoristt]

the night falls like heaven

「 ✦nam-gyu/reader ✦ 」 tags: sfw // hurt/comfort, pining, nam-gyu's pov, lots of angst in an edgy way, very light drxg mentions,

a/n: this'll be a 2 part mini series! so excited to get this started ugh tysm to anon who requested this word count: 9.2k | songs i listened to (x) (x) original request (x)

・❥・Nam-gyu was not a man of many regrets. 

If he had to count, he could fit them all on one hand. Mostly from when he was a teen. Younger and somehow even more impulsive than he was now, drinking through money like water and getting into fights he’d never remember. The worst of them all, however, was one he hadn’t thought would really eat at him. It was unlike himself to get hung up over a girl of all things, but good lord, he was hanging. Strings and all, like a marionette, bleeding and sore at the joints. 

Tough to swallow couldn’t even compare to the feeling of when that specific regret suddenly pops up in the same room after years of abandon. If he hadn’t been so down bad, the sight of you would have only ruffled up his feathers enough to remind him of a better time, but in God’s honest eyes, those feathers of his had been ruffled since the dawn of the very instant you left. The door hadn’t even had a chance to hit you on your way out, nothing but dust and tears in your wake. He was stuck fast, left to his own devices, bouncing between wondering why he let it go so bad and whilst also begging God himself to make you stop being such a bitch. 

But the worst part, the worst part is that even now you still carry this aura of over it all around you. Self-respect colliding with the want to be loved was never an easy tango to dance, all steps just pulling and pushing and trying to snuff out useless feelings and red hot passion. But you twirled until he did what he did best and nudged you to the brink of your breaking point. All that sweet, sweet adoration drained from your face and he saw it- dignity. He saw it on you on your  way out of his apartment, storming past him with biting tears in your eyes. And now, years later, he gets to see it again from across the room.

You’re sitting on a high, high bunk you’ve claimed as yours, people watching. Other than the initial moment you’d seen him in the bubble of people, you haven't bothered sparing him a second glance. It was a beautiful moment- your eyes widening, stopped dead in your tracks before you were on the move all over again. He’s sneaking glances through the corners of his eyes, watching you over his shoulder, and you can’t even give him another second of your day. And the thing that really bothers him is that he knows he can’t stop. 

Out of everyone in this room, your distant presence is a fiery beacon in the darkness and he’s an angry, bitter moth. It’s in his very nature to circle and flutter one step behind, seeking the light, burning at its touch. Singed wings and an endless sneer. If only he could just stop touching the heat, he would surely move on. But he just can’t, and the fact that you can pisses him off so much it makes him lose his breath at times. 

He wished, with the very core of his entire being, that you were weaker. Or, at least, stupider. Maybe then you would have lived up to his expectations and showed up to his door, or at his club, teary eyed and lonely without his superior presence around. He could see it behind his eyes at night, the waver in your voice when you’d beg him to come back into your arms, and more importantly, back into your bed. 

I told you so, he’d say, with that shit eating grin and a hand on your waist guiding you out from the cold.

A forlorn, guideless sheep in need of your shepherd. He could be that for you. If only the word boyfriend didn’t make him shudder with every last fiber of his being. If only that specific little thing wasn’t your breaking point. Your face haunted him- that halo around your irises fading into something far away and charred when he’d had the nerve to actually laugh at you for it. You were grabbing your things and leaving, and he sat watching every moment in clips. It wasn’t anything, back then. You were just mad, in a few days you’d be right as rain climbing into his lap and peppering kisses along his throat. You’d be back, he was sure of it. 

But then the days turned into weeks. And then, to his distaste, those weeks faded into months of silence. He started to catch himself looking for you in crowds, visiting places you’d frequented at just to linger around like an awkward ghost in case he spotted you through the shifting crowds. But you were gone- vanished.

Fine. You’ll never see me again, asshole. 

Those words had been etched into the very walls of his cranium since they’d left your lips in a scathing hiss. Such nasty words, but they shook with every consonant. 

Among your pride was a healthy blend of honesty. You had been true to your word- he really did never see you again. Wiped your slate spotless of anything Nam-gyu.

And it drove him fucking crazy. It made him sick to his stomach in a way he did not think was possible. It was out of control- he couldn’t stop thinking about you, you, you. He missed you more than he didn’t, and he was angrier at himself than he’d like to admit. So instead of admitting, he funnels all that anger into the very shape of you. Drags in the idea of you, his memories of you and shoves them down, down, down, until he truly did think he hated you, after all. 

Until he’s clenching his fist so tight he’s drawing blood and telling himself he’s better off now, without some whining bitch in his ear begging him to stick that boyfriend pin into the thinness of his skin. Thinks that without you hanging on his arm all the damn time, he could really go out and have some fun. He thinks, and he thinks and he thinks until he’s thought too much and suddenly he loves you again and he misses you so bad it’s crushing him under the sheer weight of your absence. 

So, Nam-gyu does what Nam-gyu does best once again, and he drowns himself out with the bitter taste of drugs on his tongue and the sear of alcohol in his blood. 

It all stops.

For a time, anyway. 

You always found ways to seep back into his mind one way or another. Songs that would only make it a second in before he was mashing the skip button. A tv show you’d watched together surviving on the screen roughly a whole minute before it’s switched off. Sometimes it was when he saw something he knew you’d like- a shitty video or meme. Other times you came to him in whispers while he laid out on his own living room floor, out of his mind watching the blank ceiling above him twist and writhe under his spotty vision with a needle poking out of his arm. 

But, most times… Most times you would slither your way to the forefront of his mind just before bed. The touch of you, the smell of you. 

The shape of you underneath him. Hands and quiet breaths. He could still hear the noises you made ringing in his ears, stored away in his memories just to taunt him when he was indisputably alone. Soft skin, even softer thighs. Always so warm, and so wet. So willing. You would come to him while he curled over himself in bed, drunk on porn and memories. 

And afterwards, when Nam-gyu had finished, he would throw his head back onto his pillow and ignore the way it felt like there was a lump in his throat. And that would piss him off even more, because fuck, you should be there with him. Laying by his side running your hands through his hair until he’s falling asleep balancing on the fine line of afterglow and dozing off. 

But you aren’t. You’re doing fuck all with who knows in places he’s never been to, places you probably begged him to go but he couldn’t even remember the name of. You hadn’t answered a single one of his texts, you hadn’t picked up a single call and everytime he hears the first couple seconds of your stupid voicemail he wants to crush his phone in his hands. Vexation was a slippery slope into the fires of fury- rage was like a parasite under his skin, eating away at what little rational thinking he had. 

Voicemail after voicemail. Text after ignored text. Anger was the hardest stage- rage grew horns on the crown of his head and it turned him into something he couldn’t recognize. Or, something he refused to recognize- desperate and heartsick. 

It was supposed to be you. Not him. 

He filled the endless gaps of you with drugs often and women when he could. For a short time it would work and he would wonder why he ever let someone else get him so, so low. But then the drugs would wear off. The random woman in his room that he never bothered to learn the name of would grab her clothes and saunter out the door. He stopped letting them stay the night. He could never sleep, stared at the ceiling until 5am wondering why he still felt like shit. He would be right back where he started, sitting on the couch, staring at the door watching you leave over and over again.  

You stopped updating your socials, quit hanging out with the few people that bounced between his and your crowd, successfully scrubbed him of your life entirely. After a year, he resorted to asking around if anyone had seen you. The answer, as always, was a firm no. It was a corrosive feeling, a constant churn and thrum within the cage of his ribs. It made him even more unrecognizable to himself. Made him invite women into his lap just to shove them away when they didn’t smell like you, or sound like you. Or laugh like you.

It had been so, so perfect before. It was fun, and it was hot all the time, and sex with you felt like heaven was a place on earth. Why couldn’t you see that? Why did you have to go and ruin it with your words and pleading eyes? Nam-gyu doesn’t roll like that. You knew that. He’s a free spirit, he tells himself. No chains, no labels. No holding him down. Even if it was at the feet of this gorgeous, gorgeous body and a honey sweet voice that just always seemed to know what to say. Beautiful eyes that always watched, a smile so saccharine, whispering words against his ear so dirty it made him shiver just to think about. 

The world was too vast to be held down. 

But, truth be told, he was held down. 

He is held down. 

When you walked out of his apartment those years ago, he never left that spot, chewing his nails and anxiously spinning the ring on his finger, watching you go. He started seeing it behind his eyes. Replays it, changes the course, wonders where he’d be right now if he’d just said something different. 

Finding you at the games was like divine intervention. It had to be. Some higher power had crossed his path and plopped you right in front of him. With rolling eyes and a deadpan stare at anything except for him, sure but you were there and you weren't going anywhere anytime soon. God had heard his drug induced prayers of stupor. 

Now it was all about waiting. Waiting for the right moment to dive in and recapture you within him and he’d be right back to drinking you in at every chance he had. He’d do it differently this time, do it right so you’d cling to him and wonder why you ever wanted to leave at all. Make you wonder why you were so stupid to have been so stubborn when everything you could ever need was in the palm of your hand. He was sure of it. That strong, bullheaded expression would blitz is something vulnerable in his hands. A lurch of excitement riveted under his skin among the nerves. 

For now, he waits, and watches. Your presence could never go unnoticed by his dark eyes. 

It’s unfortunate for him that Thanos takes a notice to you, too. It’s hard not to, really, when every time he follows Nam-gyu’s locked line of sight it always leads back to you- this little sweet thing perched up at the peak of the bunks alongside the back, watching the room with this bored stare between mundane yapping with other players. 

“Someone you know?” Thanos’s voice had this subtle drip to it, this underlining excitement that Nam-gyu picks up on almost instantly. His expression stays cool, mostly uninterested despite the way he can’t seem to pry his eyes away from you even as he answers.

“Yeah.”

“Who is she?”

And then he’s stuck. Because his mouth opens for a split second to say, my ex, but he can’t quite say that, now can he? But he also can’t say an old friend either, because you simply weren’t. What you two had was something else entirely- a new plane he struggled to navigate, lovely when things were good, a hellscape when they weren't. The lines were always so blurred, fuzzy with sex and warm laughter.

He decides on something mostly true. “Someone I used to hang out with.”

“Girlfriend?” Thanos’s brow raises with his chirp, leaning forward with clear interest. 

“No.” It comes out quick- too quick, and too heavy. Tinged venom with more baggage than even he could handle at times. Thanos catches it on impact and whistles. 

“I see. So you won’t care if I go chat her up? Hm?” 

“Don’t bother. She’s not like that.” Nam-gyu’s scoffs before he can stop himself, this unsettling seed of jealousy planting itself in his chest. 

“Hm… I guess we’ll see, huh?”

You’re dismounting from your bed and climbing onto the stairs when Thanos jumps to his feet, and Nam-gyu can already feel that itchy panic starting to blotch away at his skin. His hands, his cheeks. That seed takes its place within him bearing vicious roots. 

“Man, don’t bother,” He’s touching at Thanos’s sleeve, his shoulder, anywhere he can to try and gather his friend’s attention. “She can be kind of a bi-”

All it takes is a swat to Nam-gyu’s chest to stop him dead in his tracks, words dying his throat. Shut down, watching his friend take quick steps to you, Nam-gyu following close behind to witness.  If only he could be firmer, never demanding, always suggesting. Always rolling over and showing his soft underbelly at Thanos’s whim. Instead, he lets his lips press into a tight line and let’s it all happen right before him. 

You’re on the bottom step and taking a seat, and you see the rapper approaching before he gets a word in, but your eyes skip over him entirely and settle onto Nam-gyu’s. Distress is building in his muscles, but he’s making damn sure to keep himself in check. 

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing all alone? You want a friend?”

Up closer now, sharing your space, he sees all the things he’d been missing so deeply throughout the years. You still look just as he remembered- still bearing this expression of bemused coolness, still having these all seeing eyes that seemed to cut right through him. 

“A friend?” you hum, and your voice threatens to pull him in like gravity. “You wanna be my friend?”

If jealousy could sprout through his skin, it’d be an ugly beast of horns and claws. But it can’t, so instead, it takes shape in the way Nam-gyu’s eyes are flicking between yours and the rappers, hands wrapped up in his sleeves. 

“Stick with me, yeah? I promise to keep you safe. My number one priority.” And Thanos is patting his chest, flashing those painted nails. Makes Nam-gyu’s chest tighten, his stomach growing sicker by the second. 

Damn, you can see it, too. There’s no denying the way he’s cringing behind that distant smirk, and he doesn’t think to hide the way he’s twisting his rings on his fingers. When you click your tongue, he knows what's coming. 

“Stick with you, hm… Sorry, but I try to work alone. Partner’s tend to, how do I say…” Those eyes of your slice through him all over again, honing into him when you finish your sentence. “Disappoint me.”

Fuck. Disappointment. Oh god, how that sears into Nam-gyu’s skin. The way you look the rapper up and down, visually sizing him up, would make his heart leap into his throat if he were under that same scrutiny. He never understood how you could always be this intense with such a sweet, sweet face. Kindness was certainly a luxury and he missed it, that never ending fire that kept him warm.

“I can change that for you,” Thanos sings.  “I’m a legend here for a reason.”

“Legend? I’ve never heard of you.” Your brows raise in amusement. 

“You will. Thanos.” He puffs his chest out and nods, a half cocked grin playing over his lips. “Guy’s like me, we don’t disappoint.”

The man actually finds the nerve to reach down and pluck your hand, bringing his knuckles to his lips. Nam-gyu feels red hot scorching through his face but he’s locked in place, watching it like a car crash. Relieved when you yank your hand free and shove it into your jacket’s pocket. It’s the only good thing out of this entire interaction, he finds, especially so when Thanos’s smirk falters into a tight surprised line. 

“Don’t go and do all that. Guy’s like you will always disappoint me.” You lean back against the wall of the step, vexation evident over your features. “How about you talk to me again after the next game, yeah? Maybe I’ll feel different. Thanos.”

You always were so good at slamming the door in people's faces, always brought Nam-gyu joy to witness you shut down the advances of some poor loser trying to gain your affections. Thanos knows he’s been hung out in the cold, too. Barking up the wrong tree in the wrong neighborhood in the wrong country. So, he takes a loose step backwards and shrugs. 

“Your loss.” He sighs, and Nam-gyu follows him all the way back to his bunk in brooding silence. 

Wringing his fingers, he can’t help himself when casts a glance over his shoulder to find you one last time before you’re obscured behind metal frames and moving bodies. When he does, he feels a rush of heat in his cheeks when you’re already stuck fast staring right back, watching him go. He’s silent when he sits down at his little corner of the dormitory, silent when Gyeong-su is harping praises at Thanos. Silent, even, when Thanos says he’s determined to bring you to his side of the map. 

However, he noticeably tenses when Thanos mutters, “What a babe, huh? I should go visit her after lights out.”

Almost immediately there’s hands on his shoulders, pushing and nudging him, demanding his attention. The deepest of sighs leaves the rapper, ducking his head to find Nam-gyu’s eyeline. 

“Come on, man. Don’t be pissed, it’s in my nature, boy. Be honest. You into her?”

“Me and her…” Nam-gyu swallows. “We used to mess around.”

“Lucky you.” Thanos’s is shoving Nam-gyu’s shoulders again. “You cut her lose?”

No, she cut me loose. But Nam-gyu can’t bring himself to say that, the words lost and barred at the tip of his tongue. In the silence, Thanos takes it as confirmation. 

“That’s so cold. If I had her, I’d never let her out of my sight. Sheesh.”

Nam-gyu can’t even form words at all, anymore, irritation and envy wrapping tendrils around his throat and snuffing him out. Your earlier words spin through his brain like a carousel- come find me after the next game. Were you being serious? Were you just saying that to mess with him? He knows you- he knows your tone better than he even realizes, but he suddenly can’t decipher what’s honesty and what isn’t anymore. Jealousy blinds him, thick lenses leading him in all sorts of binds. 

He should have talked to you. He should have made the first move and made sure the first time he was breathing your air was alone. Now he’s anxious, he’s resentful, and he’s humiliated for some reason he can’t quite place. It doesn't help when he can’t resist the urge to look at you one last time, just one for the road, and you’re chatting idly with a man lounging on the other side of the steps you’re currently sitting on. There’s a five foot gap between your bodies but Nam-gyu doesn’t care- the anger that rips through him is blind, you may as well have been fucking the man right in front of him. 

It’s all he can see, tunnel vision encompassing him all the way until the moment lines start to form for lunch. Stewing in his jealousy, a bitter taste blooming over his tongue, he doesn’t jump in line because he’s got an appetite, but simply because you were rather eager to fill your belly. He tails you, matches every step and still has to jump out in front of a random player from taking the spot directly behind you. 

You notice him with a fleeting look tossed over your shoulder, eyes darting from the corners of your eyes and then forward, still as a statue. Desperate to not interact. 

Nam-gyu can’t help himself.

“You into Thanos?”

You audibly laugh at him, and the sound makes him shred the inside of his cheek.

“Maybe. What’s it to you?”

Everything. It’s everything to me. 

You look up at him over your shoulder, watching him through your thick lashes with scorn written all over those beautiful irises. There’s a flash image of you- a memory, tangled between the bedsheets, looking up at him with those gorgeous eyes and tear stained cheeks with his hand wrapped around your throat. It’s quick but it hits him like a sucker punch right to the gut. He sucks in a sharp breath. He wants to touch you- he almost does, but the line moves forward a beat and you’re moving with it away from his hesitating fingers. 

“I’m just asking.” He’s trying to be coy, but you can see right through him. 

“You worried, Nam-gyu?” 

That hits him like a sucker punch too. He’d forgotten how his name sounded on your tongue, how it rolled off so perfect and pretty even when you were pissed at him. Sometimes specifically when you were pissed at him, this bubbling anticipation running through him in waves, your passion always the spark lighting the fire in his belly. 

“I’m not worried.”

“You are.” Clocked him, again. Peered into the windows of him and saw that angry ocean of spite and regret behind his eyes. “I know you are. I can see it on you.”

“Not worried.” Nam-gyu shrugs, but he can’t meet your eyes anymore. 

Another sigh ghosts from your lips, but it’s quieter, defeated, almost. 

“I’m not interested in your friend. I’m not interested in anyone.”

And then, he says it. Quietly, as if he doesn’t want you to truly hear.

“...You seemed interested.”

“So you are worried.” You’re crossing your arms and he stares down into your hair, shoving his hands into his pockets. “What if I was? You clearly had nothing to say about it. You were right there- you didn’t tell him we had history? Or did I mean that little to you?”

You’re mad. Holy shit, you’re still so mad at him. But then his brain scrambles to tell him the good side of things- anger is not indifference. So in some ways, maybe more than others, he’s still in that little dome of yours ratting around amongst your thoughts. Means that if he does this right, it would mean something to you to be better this time. 

His lips press into a tight line. He should have talked to you, and now it’s biting him in the ass. It seemed like everything always bit him in the end. And he always let it happen, watched and never interfered. You drive the nail you’d plunged into him even deeper when you throw his words, from all those years ago, right back in his face. That last thing he had said to you before you, or the idea of you, had become a black hole.

“You know what, Nam-gyu? What was it you had said? Oh- uh, why don’t you focus on yourself and I’ll focus on me, yeah?”

It stings. It stings so bad that he physically recoils from the sound of his voice on your tongue, words spilling that just don’t seem right coming from you. Bitter resentment rises in his throat, this reflexive coping mechanism to bite back overtaking his senses. He wants to say I shouldn’t have said that. He wants to say, hear me out. But what ends up leaving him is just as ugly as the rest of his feelings. 

“Jesus. You’re still a bitch.”

The very instance those words tumble from him, he’s already regretting it with every fiber of his being. Even more so when you pluck your bento box from the guard and spin on your heels to glare absolute daggers into the very pits of his soul.

“Get over yourself. I’m glad we had this talk, it was very refreshing.”

This time he does jump to stop you, shaking his head and squeezing his eyes shut. “Just listen-”

“No.” 

He doesn’t hide the way he watches you scamper off to your little ledge, hopping up onto your bed and enjoying your vantage point above all else, focusing on your meal. The man you’d been chatting with earlier is in the bed next to yours and that’s just fucking great. The guard has to pry his stare off of you, and a bento box is practically shoved into his chest, urging him out of line. 

Nam-gyu hates the stone anchoring in his guts. Almost as much as he hates how his appetite never quite returned. All food tasted the same when you left, nothing compared to what you’d used to make him. 

The bento box was no different. 

That night, sleep avoided him. There was something keeping him awake- buzzing under his skin no matter how many times he’d rolled over and shifted himself into a new position. Of course he knew what it was- it never really left him, after all. The fact of knowing you were across the room, all alone in your bed, was this incessant knock in the back of his skull tapping him back into reality whenever he found himself comfortable enough to doze off. His mind was stuck on you, as always, wondering what you looked like right now. 

Did you sleep the same as before? Laying on your side, hair messed over the sides of your face and splayed over the pillow, those heavy lashes of yours kissing along the bone of your cheeks. He always told himself that it was you who was attached, that he was some great being and you simply touched the stars through him. How wrong he had been to think that, when the entire time he’d fit so perfectly against you, he a piece to your puzzle. 

How wrong he had been, because when he’s staring up idly at the ceiling, he thinks of the better days in his life. Always, always, it was you. Thinking of you sitting pretty in his passenger seat, watching out the window as the world blurred by in rushes. The wind blowing through your hair, your necklace catching the glint of the sun. You’d feel his eyes on you and you'd turn and smile at him so darling, so lovely, that he thought it could heal. Remembering when you’d walk into a room, shining like a beacon just for him. You’d find his lap, find his hair, find his lips against your own and you’d cry his name like a prayer. 

He was an idiot to have thought he was the something in the nothing- it was you. 

Even when he finally drifted off into sleep were you still infecting the very membrane of his mind. In his dreams, you were just as warm as you had always been. Bated breaths, hanging onto every word that left his lips, fingers that longed to touch and stroke and feel. His heart slowed to a peaceful beat, and his body curled into his pillow and blanket, trying to recreate the shape of you in his arms. For a time that evening, it worked. 

But then he woke up, and Thanos was leaning over his bed asking him if he was dead, and all those wonderful moments he’d relived were gone in a rush of bright lights and endless chatter bouncing off the walls of the dormitory. Like an addiction, the first thing he thought of when he sat up, was you. Thought about you all the way through the winding staircases and into a giant room with rainbow’s painted over the hard floor. So lost in thought that he almost misses it when the speaker starts instructing them- a 5 player minigame race. 

Teams of five. Okay, he could do that. Easy. Gyeong-su, him, Thanos. That was already three. 

It’s natural instinct when he starts to search for you in the bubble of people, his fourth member, even though he’s more than sure you’re all too excited to send him packing. The way you had looked at him at dinner the day before, he wasn’t sure if you’d even entertain a conversation with him at all, let alone join their team. But this is beyond an argument- beyond him trying and failing to lull you in, this is life and death. 

“Hey, there’s your girl again.” Thanos spots you first. He follows Thanos’s line of sight and sure enough, there you are, standing with your hands shoved into your pockets with this far away expression he can’t quite read. 

His girl. It would make him shiver, if he wasn’t already on the brink of tweaking. 

“Let’s go see if she’s changed her mind.” 

Thanos is running his hands through his hair and popping the collar of his tracksuit, a particular bounce to his step when he bounds right for you. Just as the first time, always on the lookout for yourself, you spot him coming before he gets to you. Already you’re annoyed.

By the time Nam-gyu slithers up beside him, you’re already turning Thanos’s first wave of advancements down, a snark to your tone and a glint in your eyes. 

“I’m good, thanks though.”

Thanos blinks, looks left and then right. “You’re good? I don’t see a team?”

“I’ll find one.”

“You got one right here,” He pats his chest again, before he slings his arm over Nam-gyu’s shoulder haphazardly. “Come on. You’ll be safe.”

The intensity in which you roll your eyes is fierce- an expression Nam-gyu really had only thought he could draw out of you. To make matters worse for his friend, you don’t even bother with saying no again. Instead you merely wave a dismissive hand and turn on your heels, meandering into the crowd. 

“You were right, Nam-su.” Thanos’s face drops and he unwinds his arm from Nam-gyu’s shoulder. “Not getting anywhere with that one.”

Nam-gyu is so focused watching you, that all he murmurs is, “It’s Nam-gyu.”

“Yeah. Nam-su, Nam-gyu. Look over there.” He has to force himself to look away, following Thanos’s point in the other direction you’d gone. A girl with short black hair stands off to the side, eyes traveling and sizing up all her potential team mates. Thanos pops his collar again, a hound dog chasing a brand new scent. “Let’s go see what she’s up to.”

For the first time, Nam-gyu doesn’t follow him. He says, you go, you go, and lets Thanos wind himself up all on his own before watching him go. He’s much more concerned with you and your team, this sense of anxiety starting to bud in his gut. 

He finds you like a moth to flame. Your shoulders slump at the sight of him, tired and irked. 

“Not this again.” You groan. “What, do you think you’re gonna come sweeten me up and I’ll say yes? I’m not playing on your damn team.”

Nam-gyu shakes his head and steps in front of you when you try to turn away again. His nerves are on the rise, and so is his temper. You draw it out of him like nothing else, he can’t stop himself. 

“Why not?” He asks, looking down at you with furrowed brows. You cross your arms, barring yourself from him. 

“Because I’m not.”

“This is no time to be stubborn. You don’t know what the next game is. You might need guys on your team.”

“I plan on it. There’s other men here other than you and whatever the hell his name is.”

Other men. Nam-gyu’s mouth dries up, his fingers already wringing in his sleeves. His jaw tenses with his temper, teeth grinding. 

You didn’t need other men, not when he would do anything under the sun to keep you safe. Anyone else may just let you die. Can’t you see that? 

“Why are you being-... Being like-...” He stops himself. Holy shit, his brain actually fires off the warning shot and he stops dead in his tracks staring at you in bewilderment. You adopt this expectant glare, a spiteful uptick to your lips that darkens your eyes. 

“Say it.” You sneer. “Go ahead, say it. I’m being a bitch, right?”

The word fights against his lips to get out. You’re waiting for it, at the edge of your seat, fully ready to take it in and chew it up and spit it out right back at him. But he bites it back and he swallows it down into his chest because this means something to him. Because it might mean something to you. 

“Being like this.” He stammers. “I’m trying to keep you alive.”

Your eyes widen just a fraction. “Keep me alive?”

“Can you really trust anyone here? You know me.”

“I do know you.” A flash of something provoked and somber rivets within your eyes. Anger mounting, your heart colliding with your brain in real time right before him. “That’s exactly why I won’t be on your side.”

If he’d had his foot in the door before, you were properly shoving it back outside. He doesn't know what to do, so he does the first thing he can think of as a creature of impulse, and unfortunately when it came to you that meant he was all hands. 

“Wait-” He catches you just as you’re turning away, tries to bulldoze over your defiance and smooth out all the harsh edges of your protests with the broad flats of his palms. Fingers clutching your tracksuit at your shoulders and then he’s realizing that he’s touching you for the first time in years. Your skin from underneath your jacket is just as warm he remembers, your eyes are just as doe-like at his touch too. Stubborn and ornery but overflowing with passion and static energy that settled into his bones. He needs it, he needs it. The obsession of you hits him in waves of yearn. 

He needs you more than air, he thinks. 

“Get your hands off of me, right now.” But you aren’t tearing him away- so maybe that’s progress. 

“Come on.” He ducks his head, shoulders slumping, and it physically hurts him to feel this desperate. “Stay with me.”

Oh, you don’t like those words one bit. They hit your eardrums and your eyes narrow in slits, and then yeah, you’re reaching up and catching his wrists in his iron grip before ripping his paws off your jacket. It takes a long moment for you to speak, but when you do, he swears he can hear the devil amidst the heartache. 

“You know that I can’t stay with you. Never again.”

His hands twitch to touch you again- anything to keep you there for a moment longer. 

“Come on.” 

Sadness like pits swirl in your eyes, drags your lips into a frown. “You gotta’ stop Nam-gyu. I can’t do it.”

An awful, awful mass grows in his stomach when you turn your back on him. Gets bigger with every inch you build between you and him, threatens to take over entirely and swallow him whole right in the middle of that room. If it did, and he was to be gulped up by the void, perhaps he wouldn't have to feel like this any longer. And he wouldn’t have to watch you disappear behind all the moving bodies. 

He was weaker than he was three years ago. You made him weaker. Back then, if you’d been so sure of yourself he found it rather easy to deter you. A beastly way about him when he would have just ripped you by the hand and brought you over to his team and made you sit the hell down and just stay with him. Something possessive, something under his skin at the thought of you sharing the same air as anyone other than him. You used to be so malleable in his hands- but he knows, now more than ever, that that was truly never the case. You let yourself be pliable. You let yourself fall to him. He could never, not even now, make you do anything. Not really. 

That’s the part that burns him to the peaks of his soul. That strength about you. You’re so much stronger than him, with an energy iron so it’s like running headfirst into a wall when you’d no longer graced him with your softness. Such a double edged sword, that will of yours. That attitude and the passion made him feel alive. Cold and disposed after you’d properly slammed the gate right in his face. No leverage, no space for him in your heart any longer. 

It’s cold, Nam-gyu finds. Lonely without you. 

And then Thanos goes and invites some random girl with a poor attitude (that isn’t yours) and an even weaker buddy. He tries to tell him- remind his friend of the potential disadvantage but like always all it took was a dismissive wave to get him to screw his lips shut. Rolled over, tongue caught in his throat, weakened. 

He spends a majority of his time waiting for his teams turn arguing with Se-mi and tossing gazes over his shoulder to keep a very keen eye on you, only to find a sneer growing on his features after seeing you chatting with the same player as earlier, the man with the bed next to yours. Laughter and smiles roll from your lips as natural as breathing air, and he’s nudging you with his arm and you’re letting him with this expression of pure amusement. 

That should be him. 

That ugly face of betrayal peeks through the cracks all over again, with guilt and anger and regret following in tow close behind. Sitting on his shoulders like little devils, spinning and racing through his body in waves. If you saw his face- you’d never suspect it, but his hands shake in his lap. His jaw tenses so tightly his teeth could burst into powder. Squared shoulders and an endless drag to his lips. Something in the sight of you enjoying that guys presence is reminding him of all these shitty feelings he’d been faced with when you two were together- well, no, not together, he remembers- and then he’s even angrier. Angry at you, angry at that random ass player you were talking up, angry at himself for letting it get here in the first place. 

Thanos pops open his necklace beside him and draws a fun little pill from its contents, and Nam-gyu makes it a mission to get his hands on one of those sweet little pick-me-ups. The pill is bitter on his tongue but he swallows it down in delight. And it works, too, because the moment the colors start to glow and fuse together and all sounds become this echoing fishbowl of noises, you’re vacated from the corners of his fuzzy mind. For a time, he’s at peace all over again, lost in the blurry joy. 

By the time he comes down, he’s already back in the dormitory. 

Though it takes a moment for him to realize it, he’s taking inventory of all the surviving players. One by one, watching them fill the room and find their creaky beds or their little groups. Most were distraught, though some were particularly perturbed. It takes a couple teams before he understands that what he’s really looking for, naturally, is you. He’s always searching for you, even when he knew you weren’t searching for him back. 

That’s the change, and it dawns on him like a rapture. He’d never had to care before- you were always this constant in his life, something that would always bounce right back if he tossed you aside. He didn’t give a damn if it upset you, he didn’t give a damn if it ate away at you like termites through wood. But now he does, and he gives so many damn’s they’re driving him crazy. 

Any moment spent sober and lucid were moments entirely taken up by you.

Any moment now you’ll come strutting through those doors, head held high and gunning it to make sure Nam-gyu knew exactly how much you didn’t need him. 

But then ten teams turn into twenty, and twenty five into thirty. 

“How many teams were there?” Nam-gyu asks with a voice steadier than even he expected. Thanos doesn’t need to question anything, watching the doorway all the same. 

“Fifty-six.” Se-mi hums from her spot, leaning back against the steps. 

Thirty eventually turns to fifty. 

Too much time has passed, and you’ve still yet to pop out through that doorway. He double checks those who’d already shown their faces, hoping to find you through the cracks of them, but you’re simply not there. There’s a shovel digging pits and moats into his stomach. Another wave of players trickles in and he scans them all over the same, only to feel that hollowness inside him grow once more. They saunter to their beds, to their little groups, taking up space and taking up air that should belong to you. 

Where the hell were you?

“Only two teams left,” Thanos hums. “Where’s that girl of yours?”

Nam-gyu can’t force himself to answer this time around. So, instead, he presses his nails between his teeth and nervously shifts his weight from left to right. Though he shrugs, the anxiety within him was palpable, all lines and tension that he tried to bury with nonchalance. But it wasn’t working, and felt like he was being ripped apart from the inside out.

Mind racing, thoughts circling him like birds over fresh kill. The final team walks through the doorway, slow as zombies, shifty eyed and hurriedly rushing to their beds. His eyes sit on the door, waiting, waiting. 

No one comes through. 

His shoulders fall limp. 

You didn’t make it. 

“That’s a shame.” Se-mi sighs, the sound swimming in Nam-gyu’s ears. 

Loss, real loss was a foreign feeling within his chest. He’d seen it described in the movies, in songs, this soul eating all consuming weight that blanketed over bodies and crushed, but nothing could have ever prepared for the blistering moment it wrenches itself within the confines of his heart, within the deep ache of his bones. It didn’t settle properly in his throat- his body trying to force the alien ripple of dread stitching itself right between his ribs. It hurts- his lungs can’t take in air. His breath wheezes past his lips in shallow pants, unable to tear his eyes away, like at any moment you’ll suddenly materialize right before him. 

He presses his lip into a tight line and digs his nails into his palms, anything to release a fraction of the agony festering within his body. 

Brain on fire, shaking hands and the image of you dead in a thousand different flashes, a sting to his waterlines that has him scrambling to shove his fingers against the thin skin. 

Don’t fucking cry. Don’t fucking cry.

“Bad luck. Sorry, boy.”

All the skin on his body has flushed red and sticky. He ducks his head down towards his lap, desperate to hide within himself, even more desperate to hide this part of himself from the watchful eyes of his group. He should have just made you join them. Should have thrown you over his shoulder and wrapped an immovable grasp around your arm and held you hostage until everyone had a team and then you’d have no one else to turn to. No one else, nothing else except for him. 

He can’t even hear his friend’s counterfeit empathy over the swell of his heartbeat in his ears. His body is too heavy to hold up, his arms dragging as lead, his head even heavier on his shoulders. Uncanny urges to tear at the skin of his face overcome him and he has to bury them into his hair in release, roughly running his digits through the black locks, trying to breathe and breathe and breathe. A lump the size of a boulder burrows into his throat.

Cracking his eyes open to peek down at his lip, squeezing them shut when his vision is wet and blurry. His lower lip trembles until it’s caught in his teeth, biting hard into the skin. 

Don't fucking cry.

Why did you have to be so stubborn? If you’d have just let him take care of you this one fucking time, you would be alive right now. You should be alive right now- pissed and glaring fury in his direction but breathing and taking up space and existing-

“Ah, they made it. Here I thought they were all goners.”

Se-mi’s casual tone barely reaches him, but it’s got him frantically flicking his gaze back up to the archway, his hands falling from his face, trying to see through the blotches in his sight. A handful of players take soft steps into the room, all shaken up, all bewildered.

There you are. His racing heart stops entirely.

You’re sauntering into the dormitory like a wounded animal, all hands wringing out in front of you and lines drawn into your frown. For the first time, in Nam-gyu’s eyes, you look small. Frightened. Every step you take has a weight to it he’s never witnessed you bear. And even from across the room, even with rigid tears trapped in the corners of his eyes, he can see the grip of fear on the flat of your throat. 

All those jumping thoughts settle into a tunnel vision, you at the epicenter of his quaking nerves simmering down into stillness. He forgets how his chest had twisted as if a knife had been planted between his collarbones, and he forgets how he had almost lost his lunch right there on the floor. All because you’re standing there in the middle of the room hugging yourself, white as a ghost, even paler when you lift your head up and see the way Nam-gyu is trapped in your line of sight. 

Nam-gyu see’s it. No hate, no dejection. 

Relief- this instant where your widened eyes soften, your frown lifts into a slack-jawed breath of solace. It rocks his world when it hits him and it lights a flame so hot under his skin it’s burning through his veins. All the air trapped in his lungs leaves him at once and he can pinpoint the exact moment all the tensions in his shoulders and back melt away in nothingness. The tears dry, his lower lip released from his gnashing teeth.

The man you’d joined earlier pats your shoulder and offers you a pathetic, wavering thumbs up. You can’t seem to return his dull enthusiasm. In fact, you look worse than Nam-gyu’s seen you thus far. Changed, all wires sticking exposed and sparking. There’s this lifelessness to your body when you climb up the stairs and have to heave yourself up into your bed, crossing your legs and resting your chin on your palms propped up over your knees. 

When your eyes meet his, he expects some sort of sign of contempt, or perhaps maybe you’d refuse to meet his gaze entirely. Instead, for the first time since you’d arrived, you find him first. 

You offer him a pitiful open palmed wave. 

The pearly gates crack open and Nam-gyu feels it again- warmth. Even just a little bit, like lighting a match in a snowstorm, huddling around the flame. He half cocks a smile, and he waves back. 

--

Lunch came quicker than he’d anticipated, and much to Nam-gyu’s dismay, you weren’t exactly thrilled to hop into line. In fact, ever since you’d let him jam his fingers back into your closing door, you’d hardly acknowledged anything other than your lap. Even more so upsetting, that player you hung around tapped your mattress to gather your attention, pointing to the line, sighing in defeat when you’d shook your head. 

Jealousy seeps into his wounds all over again, quiet, but equally as simmering. Don’t act like you know her. Little devils tapping away at his psyche. She doesn't need you to check up on her.

But then again, he realizes, maybe you do. 

His mouth dries when the sound of his thoughts footsteps come running up on him. His greed. His innate ability to leave you unchecked and grappling. That was among the sea of problems Nam-gyu had been struggling to grasp. Here he was, trying to drag you back into the tar pits of his hold and he hadn’t even tried the basics of kindness. The step one of it all. Always taking, taking, taking and demanding more at every swipe. Always expecting, never building. 

So he jumps into line before he can second guess himself, and he takes his bento box with a grateful nod and he doesn’t waste a second before he’s chasing the trail of you to your bed. From your high point, perched and unmoving, all he can do is climb the stairs and rest his hands over the corner of your mattress. Your far away gaze lifts from your lap and settles down to him. 

The air is different. The landscape of you has changed. 

“What is it.” Your tone is uncannily flat, but it’s void of its bite, its drive. 

“Can I come up?” 

It’s a simple request, but it leaves a shake at the end of his sentence. It’s only natural when he mentally prepares himself for you to slap no onto his forehead, but you scoot over, and he takes the spot so quickly you wouldn’t even have the chance to say no if you thought about it too much. He hoists himself up and over, fills the gap at your side, just as he should have done days ago. He sits the bento box at the crest of your lap.

“What’s this?” Blinking down at the food, you make no effort to pick it up. 

“Fish and rice.” Nam-gyu shrugs. “Looks like an egg, too.” 

“I can see that. I meant, what are you doing giving me this?”

“...You didn’t get anything.”

As your fingers gingerly touch the container, eyes scanning over the contents, Nam-gyu feels he can breathe easier. This is a win for him- you aren’t fighting him anymore. Still on the edge, always ready to run, but the look in your eyes isn’t pure hatred or outright hurt. A swell of pride overcomes him when you pluck the chopstick and murmur, thank you. 

You’re pliable. Now, more than ever. 

You eat in silence. He lets you eat in silence, even though peace isn’t exactly one of his virtues.  Partly because he doesn’t know what to say to you, but mostly because he’s got this innate fear that he’s going to say something shitty and you’re going to hate him all over again for it. A million words are always shoving and pushing against his lips and he fumbles with navigating them. So, silence, it is. 

But it doesn’t bother him. Silence meant that you were simply just there, existing, the one thing he had longed for over the years. He knew, deep in his heart, he’d fucked up when he began to miss the very presence of you. No sex, no drugs, no push or pull, just you. And now he gets to take whatever you’ll give in micro doses, greedy and starved for you. Fighting the urge to pull you into himself where you could never climb out. He refrains- he forces himself to just be there. 

No longer could he be the creature he had been all those years ago. He had to be different- not all rough edges and clawing hands, ripping and taking. Or dark eyes watching your every move, or jagged words cutting your flesh with the highs and lows of his tone. Something better, this time. Something for you. 

Tomorrow would be a new beast entirely. And, in less than a few hours, the lights would flicker off and bask the dormitory into hues of red and blues. You would lay alone in your all-too-large bed and he would sink into his mattress drugged out of his mind thinking countless thoughts of you, you, you. The distance would feel like miles- he needed you right there, right then, always. Anything other than what he had sitting beside you was a vast ocean. 

The bento box appears in front of his lap, half eaten.

“You’re not going to eat it?” Nam-gyu’s brows knit.

“You should eat, too. What, scared of my germs now?” You murmur, and when he meets your eyeline, he sees something familiar in those hues. Something nurturing, sweet. Tender. 

Nam-gyu picks up the chopsticks, and he eats.  For the first time in years, his food tastes like food.

[aajjks]

morning sex (m)

synopsis. To your surprise, you wake up in bed with your nightmare of a horny roommate and learn the advantages of morning sex.

pairing: horny roommate jungkook x fem!reader

genre: crack, 18+, cringe, smut, explicit, and dark comedy.

warnings. 18+, ëxplicit sèxùàl dïàlögùë, mïrör çhëck, sèxùàl téñsïøns, bïg dïçk ënërgÿ, çhëëky flïrts, sàssÿ çòmëbàcks, jungkook’s funnÿ bïg dïçk jôkës, hümørøüs ánd sèxy.

note. lmao I couldn’t resist he he’s such a fun character. I love writing him and honestly I kind of need him so bad even though he’s cringe as fuck.

You wake up to the most obnoxious thing ever.

Jungkook is spooning you.

Not in a nice, sweet way where he’s just trying to be comfortable.

No. He’s literally drooling on your shoulder, his chest pressing against your back like he’s staked his claim, and his hand is—oh no.

His hand is dangerously close to your chest.

Your eyes snap open. Oh hell no.

You try to wiggle out of his grasp, but it’s like trying to break free from a bear trap.

He’s clutching you like you’re the last life preserver on a sinking ship.

“Jungkook, get off!” you whisper-shout, but all he does is groan and snuggle into you deeper.

“What’s the rush?” His voice is muffled, his head practically buried in your hair. “It’s comfy here.”

“Yn babe look, my bed was really uncomfortable tonight so I had to sneak in your bed even if you mind I don’t really care and I think we should definitely have insanely hot morning sex.”

you want to slap the shit out of him.

You can’t even begin to process how absurd this is. How did this even happen? How did you go from roommates to this weird… spooning situation?

AND NOW MORNING SEX?

"Look, babe, morning sex? It's simple. You wake up, I get you off, and we both start the day feeling fucking amazing. No need to overthink it. It's like an instant mood booster, I swear."

You try again to push him off, but all you manage to do is accidentally press your ass into his—

oh no.

“So.. in conclusion we should definitely fuck baby, see I’m hard as fuck.”

You raise an eyebrow, biting back a smile. “Oh, so you’re really selling me on this morning… routine?” you tease, leaning in a little.

“Let me guess, does it come with a small surprise, or should I be worried it won’t rise to the occasion?”

You watch his face shift, that smug look he always carries flickering for just a second. It’s too much fun.

“Maybe if you prove it to me, I’ll consider it,” you finish with a wink, making sure he knows exactly what you mean.

“Babe, is this really how we’re doing this today?” Jungkook mumbles lazily, lifting his head just enough to stare at you with that mischievous grin of his.

You feel his chest rumbling with the deep chuckle that follows.

“Stop calling me babe!” you snap, now fully trying to pull away.

But the moment you try to move, he tightens his hold around your waist, practically trapping you in his vice-like grip. And he’s not even pretending to sleep anymore.

He’s wide awake, eyes gleaming with that cocky look that makes you want to strangle him—while simultaneously kiss him senseless.

You’re struggling to get out, but then, just as you’re about to give up, you feel something against your back.

Something hard.

Something you definitely didn’t expect to feel.

You freeze.

“Uh… Jungkook?” You swallow hard, trying to pretend you didn’t just notice what was happening.

His lips curve up into that infuriating smirk. “Oh, so you feel it now?”

Your face burns. “What the hell is wrong with you? Why are you—;”

“I mean, it’s not my fault you’re so cute and cuddly in the mornings.” He lets out a dramatic sigh. “I can’t help it, babe. I’m only human.”

You bite back a sarcastic retort. “You’re a man-child,” you mutter, trying to ignore the fact that the man is physically pressing himself against you, and it’s not just a “casual” spoon anymore.

He chuckles again, his fingers digging into your sides as if trying to tickle you into submission. “C’mon, you know you love it.”

Your frustration boils over. You twist around, and you have no idea how it happens, but somehow, you end up straddling him.

You stare down at him, breathing heavily from the combination of shock and—well, you’re not sure what you’re feeling anymore.

Jungkook’s face is completely smug, his hands resting lazily behind his head, like he’s a king and you’re his amused servant.

“You—” you bite your lip. “This isn’t funny, you know.”

“Then why are you on top of me, hm?” His voice is dangerously low now, a playful glint in his eyes. “Guess you wanted to be close.”

“Don’t act like you don’t want this too,” he teases, eyes tracing over your body as if he’s memorizing every detail. His fingers slide down to your waist again, making you flinch.

“Jungkook, seriously—;” You don’t even get the chance to finish your sentence before he interrupts.

“Okay, fine, we’ll call it a draw. But—;” He smirks, his hands slipping down to your hips now, “…—I do have a lot of things I’d like to say, but I’ll wait for you to ask.”

You glare at him, ready to push him off you, but the moment you shift just enough, he’s at it again.

His lips are on yours, and you swear you feel the earthquake beneath you as he pulls you closer, his kiss deepening immediately.

He’s not even trying to be subtle anymore.

Jungkook’s hands are everywhere, and his lips are moving against yours with an intensity you didn’t expect this early in the morning.

“Guess we’re just doing this now, huh?” You whisper against his lips, struggling to keep some semblance of control.

“Oh, we definitely are,” he growls, suddenly flipping you onto your back and trapping you underneath him like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“You’re not getting away this time.”

You both know it’s only a matter of time before this chaotic situation completely spirals out of control.

The only question is how much longer you can keep pretending you don’t enjoy every second of it.

[synvil]

Do you think that Rafe would act differently if the reader were having excruciating period cramps? As if she's having a hard time talking and is sobbing into her pillow. She first tries to oppose Rafe's attempts to calm and reassure her, so he has to be a little direct and use his tough voice to get her to listen.

hello anonnie !! <3

short answer : yes. but i do think it also depends on what season rafe we’re talking about. like s1 rafe i think would grow pretty aggravated bc he doesn’t quite understand just how painful the cramps are and gets annoyed with reader. but if we’re talking s3-4 rafe, then i think he would be more assertive but not aggressive and then comforts her afterwards. maybe feeling bad for being so commanding yk?

thought i’d do a little blurb (⸝⸝⍢⸝⸝) ෆ comfort time.

synopsis : bf! rafe trying to comfort you when you’re having severe cramps.

“baby, how’re you feelin’?”

the lack of response and the curling of your figure on his bed makes him sigh as he quietly steps inside the room and shuts the door. “baby, come on. you need to get up..”

it’s been a couple hours since you’ve been curled up like this, hugging a pillow tightly and finding yourself unable to move. every shift creates a sharp pain into your abdomen and you can feel the tears well up in your eyes.

rafe felt terrible at what you’re going through, even if he didn’t quite understand the length of it. he went out and bought some items for you but you couldn’t enjoy any of it if you couldn’t move.

“[name], i bought some snacks for you. i also bought a heating pad for you.” rafe takes a small seat on the edge of the bed and sets the bag down as he pulls out some items. “you need to get up now, it’s not going to help if you stay in that position all day.”

you only groan in response, hugging a pillow tightly. “c-can’t..” you meekly whisper, your breathing a bit heavy as you whimper and moan from the cramping.

rafe frowns as he sighs. “come on, i know it hurts a lot but i’ll help you. you’ve been laying like this so you haven’t changed your pad, which you should. i know you’re going to regret it if you bleed through so let me help you to the restroom and i’ll set up a warm bath as well, okay?”

“no..” even though you knew he was right, you had to refuse. you couldn’t even think about moving, wanting to just bare the pain in bed forever.

standing up, rafe exhales out at your persistent refusal and leans down, tucking his arms under your body, successfully surprising you as you gasp sharply and drop the pillow.

now carrying you bridal style, rafe narrows his eyes down at you and his once soft voice becomes firm. “i’m not going to say it again, [name]. let’s go get you into a warm bath to soothe your stomach and a fresh change of clothes. after that,” he begins to bring you to the bathroom as he continues to speak. “we’ll cuddle up together with a movie and you can enjoy your new snacks and the heating pad, and if you’d like, i’ll rub your stomach to ease the pain too.”

once inside the restroom, he sets you down on the closed toilet seat and kneels down to set up the bath for you.

you feel tears brim your eyes as you clutch your stomach and listen to him, imagining the heat of the water doing wonders for your pain. you can’t help but feel your chest warm as well from how sweet rafe was being, and feeling bad how difficult you were..

rafe notices the look on your face and smiles lightly, turning to you and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, rubbing your stomach with his hand over yours on your abdomen.

“I’m sorry for being a little assertive, but i promise it’s going to be okay. i’m here for you, baby. i love you.”

a/n : this might not be what you were expecting but this made me feel better :) especially as someone with bad cramps.