#like babes I love you but Enough Is Enough

[mintfullyyours]

Thinking about finding out you're Simon's phone wallpaper. Although part of me thinks he might still have a flip phone too. Because he very much wants to be off the grid.

“Simon Riley! We’re running so late!” You yell at the bottom of the steps trying to find call attention to your boyfriend. Swiping a shoe from the floor you quickly hop around, trying to look a bit presentable for the military ball. 

“Love, I can’t find my phone.” He grumbles from the top of the steps.

You roll your eyes, “We’ll find it when we get back, it’s not like you’ll be using it much.”

Simon shrugs as he reaches the last step of the staircase and watches you in your flurry daze. The emerald green, floor length dress hugging your body. A heat warms the lower half of his body. Christ, he couldn't wait for the night to be over and get you out of your dress later tonight.

“Price's gonna have our heads if we’re late.” You mumble incoherent words as you look in the kitchen and see his black case on the marble countertop. You reach for it, “Found it, babe!”

You click the home button to check the time and see 8:3––

Wait a second?

Simon comes into the kitchen, one shoe on and attempting to place the other. “Ah, thank you.” He presses a kiss to your cheek.

“Hold up.” You point as his phone, “Am I your lock screen?” You ask, biting back a smile. 

He freezes. 

A deer caught in headlights.

“You weren’t supposed to see that.”

“And of all the pictures you chose that one?”

He shrugs and clicks the home button to look at the screen. It was a picture of you sprawled on top of the sofa, mouth agape and sleeping soundly. If you squinted, was that glisten at the corner of your mouth -- drool?

“I can change it if you want." He offers. But in reality he loved that photo. He loved how much you trusted him, enough to let all your defenses down.

“Love, that’s actually so sweet.” You smile and press a soft kiss onto his lips and pull the black KN95 mask up over his mouth. 

“Totally better than the one of you on my phone.” With a wink, you hurry out of the kitchen and outside to the awaiting car. It took a second for Simon to register what you were saying before he chases you soon after.

“Hey! Wot you mean by that?!”

[sierrale8ne]

40 DAYS AND 40 NIGHTS BONUS CHAPTER

pairing wnba!paige bueckers x singer!oc

taglist @thaatdigitaldiary @ohbueckers @wbbgetsmewetter @rosemariiaa @tndaqlwifwy @pboogerswbb @xxloveralways14 @makethemhoesmad @slvt4her @luvapaigeeyy @hedidnotpleaseme @paigesbabygirl @mopopshop @omg-imtumbling @numberonepartyanth3m @wbb4l @authentic-girl03 @slut4uconnwbb @unadulteratedcyclepaper @kplum10 @fuddfanatic35 @avvwritesstufff @paigesluver @bueckersbitch @ryywyd @lupinqs @ohmybueckers

warnings sexual content

kalena speakss 🪽! i hit 1k last night so i figured it would be perfect to give you guys this lil thing. thank you guys so much for all the love since i joined this community, i can’t wait to put out more works for y’all 🥹 THANK YOU AGAIN FOR 1K!

August 2025 — Los Angeles, California

“You’re really about to go have drinks and leave me here? All by myself?” I whine, my head resting on the mirror where I sit on Raye’s bathroom counter.

The last month of being with Maraye has been nothing short of an adventure to say the least. The honeymoon phase was absolutely real, because I honestly think we’ve spent more time with one another than apart. Aside from my last road trip.

Which I believe is the sole reason for my complaining and frowning in front of her right now.

“I’ve had these plans for weeks. I haven’t seen my girls in forever, it’s the first time everyone’s back in LA.” She explains to me, and I get it. I really do, but something about just landing last night and only getting a few kisses before bed makes the fact that she’s going out even more ridiculous in my head.

“Yeah, but I haven’t seen you in forever. Do you just hate me, or what?” I continued. I reach for the belt loop of Raye’s denim skirt, pulling her in between my legs. “Ma, c’mon.”

She has this look on her face that makes it so hard to act upset. Wide eyes and a thin lipped cheeky smile. Concealer dabbed under her eyes, blush on her cheeks, Raye got her lashes done yesterday morning and the fresh set makes her dark rimmed eyes look even more enticing.

My girlfriend is fucking hot. I’ve had the privilege of having my eyes blessed by her since we started dating. But God, even the simplicity of her black top and jean skirt— with the tiniest sliver of skin on her stomach showing and skirt just short enough to bring a lot of dirty thoughts to my imagination— makes the realization stick to me like glue.

“You look good.” I murmur as I trail my hand behind her. It finds a home against her waist at first, but I could only be tempted to drag it lower over her ass. “Real fuckin’ good.”

“I know. Which is why I’m going out.” Raye jeers. She pushes off of me, reaching for her just slightly pink lip gloss. It’s sheer when she swipes it over her plump lips, a nice color contrast to the dark brown of her lip liner.

My fingers tap frustratedly against my knee. “Baby. Jus’ stay wimme, c’mon.” I groan again, hoping that my combination of puppy eyes and the line of my jaw is enough to convince her. I watch the way Raye pats her lips together and I know it’s not on purpose but it sure as hell feels that way.

“You had all day to try to keep me home. You didn’t care until I got all dressed up, P.” She rolls her eyes playfully. Raye shutting off the light and leaving me in the darkness of her bathroom. The sexy scent of her Jimmy Choo perfume briefly puts me in a trance but I get up and follow her anyway.

“That’s ’cause I didn’t expect you to look this…this fucking fine.” My bottom lip can’t help but travel between my teeth as I watch her walk, her boots clicking against the hardwood of her apartment.

“That’s not my problem, babe.”

I scoff. “Don’t go out with ‘em, Raye. You’re telling me we wouldn’t have more fun here?” My voice is suggestive, just enough to make her stutter in her step before slowly pivoting to face me.

She’s processing what to say, and a part of me is begging that she’s going to take her boots off and throw herself at me so I have her as I want for the rest of the night.

Raye struts over to me, pressing her palm against my cheek. We’re nearly at eye level like this, the smell of her hair product wafts up to my nose. I jut my lips out towards her, to be honest I’m not sure I even realized how genuinely needy I was until right then.

“‘M gonna get lipgloss on you.” She sighs.

“On my life, I don’t give a shit.”

It seems enough to get her to give in, enough for Raye to lean in and pull me to her by my tank top, slotting her lips against mine. She tastes like that same faint, sweet, coconut scent of her body wash.

I immediately reach for her hands, lacing her fingers with mine and dragging her other hand down my torso as I deepen the kiss.

She grips the waistband of my shorts, my tongue doesn’t even bother being gentle with the way I shove it between her lips, licking at her tongue in a tangled exchange.

Seemingly, she forgets that she had places to be, which fills me with a sense of pride that sends a rush through me, I think I’ve probably soaked my boxers into nothing by now. Maraye’s phone buzzes in her purse, making her hum in almost…realization.

“They can wait.” I grunt against her lips, our teeth continuing to clash in pure want.

Raye breaks the suction of our mouths, a vulgar popping noise cutting through the soft noise of the TV in the back.

“You can wait.”

“It’s been forever, ma. You gon’ let me go over a week without you? For real?”

A laugh erupts from her mouth, Raye’s thumb brushing under my lip, probably ridding me of any of her now transferred lip product. “There’s food on the stove, don’t touch my AC, and I promise—” the girl pauses, taking the opportunity to sneak a kiss off of me, “— I’ll let you have whatever you want when I get back.”

I can’t do anything more than sigh as I watch her walk away, the sway of her hips and swell of her ass and the light that her kitchen illuminates on those long, brown legs. She picks up her keys and slings her jacket over her arm.

Within seconds she’s gone.

—

When I got to the bar, enveloped in conversation with my girlfriends from college, all it really took was a few shots to get me going. The conversation flowed easily, like we really hadn’t even been apart for as long as we really did. I was having a good time. Which honestly, is surprising considering how much work I’ve been doing for the last handful of months.

The night was calm, the soft noise of 2000’s music pumping through the speakers and the occasional cheers at the expense of tipsy women dancing only a few feet away.

That was until Paige, even as wonderful and perfect as I think she truly is, decided to use my obvious obsession towards her to her advantage.

paige: You doin alright angel?

Yk without your amazing girlfriend and all read 10:38pm

I sip on my margarita, the heat of the alcohol and the almost sudden heat in the pit of my stomach is so strong that they’re one and the same. This is how it starts with her, I’ve learned. Short texts, asking how I am or about my whereabouts. I always find the second question amusing considering she has my location. It’s distracting in a way that makes me forget where I am.

“Oh my God, look at Cass.” My good friend who sits to my left, Nia, points up to my sister. The woman is obviously shit faced, too many drinks taken by this part of the evening. She dances carelessly alongside a few of the other girls.

“I swear she only had a few?” I look shocked, taking a mental note and making sure the only thing Cassie has to drink for the rest of the night is water.

“Multiply that by like, four.”

My ready response is immediately cut off by another text, the blinding light that comes from Paige’s contact makes me roll my eyes.

paige: Read? Wow what position y’all in rn 10:40pm

maraye: oh my god you’re dramatic as hell 😭

i’m fine baby, u? 10:41pm

paige: Nah not rlly

I’m wet as fuck rn just thinking about you

Made a mess on your couch :/ 10:42pm

My breath catches in my throat, coming off as a gasp to Nia. “You okay?”

“Yeah, ‘m fine. Imma head to the bathroom real fast.” I explain, trying my best to mask any possible stutter as I stand up, fixing my skirt. She doesn’t say much, which is a relief to me as I dart off to the bathroom in the back.

This is classic Paige, trying to do anything to get in my head just because she can. And as much as I’d hate to admit that it’s working, it is.

The way she was so straightforward about it, drawing me into the conversation with lighthearted Paige-esque texts only to flip the script into something much more filthy within a matter of minutes.

I lean my back on the singular porcelain sink, gripping my phone in my hands. I reopen our text thread, racking my brain for what to say to her that won’t lead to me making a mess out of my panties.

maraye: paige quit itttt

i literally just got here 10:44pm

paige: I literally don’t care 🤷🏼‍♀️

Can’t get your ass in that skirt outta my head

Got my fingers all sticky and shit 10:45pm

I swear my heartbeat speeds up times fucking ten, my chest heaving like she sucked all the air out of my lungs without even being here.

The picture she just painted in my head makes my knees weak.

Hot and bothered even more than before I left. Paige’s fingers, long and so ridiculously skilled, between her thighs as she got off to me. The thought of her imagining me or looking at pictures of me, it’s so downright dirty that I can’t believe I didn’t indulge in sexting with her before this.

I take a deep inhale, wanting to blink back my thoughts of her coming on my couch, my name off of her lips like a prayer.

paige: 1 Attachment: 1 Video

I think you should come back home 10:47pm

Fumbling with my phone I finally tap the screen and get the video open. It’s pitch black at first, then the view of her lower body fills my whole screen. Paige’s legs spread wide on my couch, a foot propped up on the armrest as she lets out an audible groan.

Her hand tugs up the hem of her wife beater, then her fingers rub circles over her clit. The sound of how wet she is loud, too loud, almost drowning out her moaning. I whine, crossing my legs and shutting my eyes. Maybe if I stopped looking at her I would keep what was left of my sanity.

And then she moans my name, again. My full name. Over and over and fucking over. I can’t help but drag my hand under my skirt, over my panties.

Then she slips three fingers inside, the stretch is obvious but the moan she lets out. Paige curls her fingers inside herself, I watch the camera tremble in response— she’s struggle to hold it still.

Then she’s slamming them in and out, a repetition that makes her almost cry. It sounds like water sloshing on the other side of the phone. Wet. Wet and fucking messy until she comes with a sound that could really only be described as a scream.

maraye: fuck baby 10:50pm

paige: I can’t stop cumming ma

Needa fuck you so bad

Come home 10:50pm

My breathing is ragged, and I know I shouldn’t but I’m considering it heavily. It’s so hard to believe that not even two weeks without her was making me act like this but it was.

maraye: you gotta come get me 10:51pm

paige: Otw read 10:52pm

—

"So, What'd you tell 'em?" I murmur. We sit at a red light, my left hand gripping the steering wheel so hard that even in the late night lighting you can tell how strained they are. But my right hand, trails slowly up Raye's thigh. She didn't fight me, not at all, her legs spreading further in the seat of my Jeep.

I can feel the warmth exuding from her before I even get a chance to press against her cunt.

"Hmm?"

"Your girls. What was your excuse, ma?" I ask again, pressing my foot to the gas pedal as soon as that green light flashes in my face.

My fingers take their time traveling towards her center and the second they do, Raye adjusts in the seat. She pushes her hips up the leather, tipping her head back on the head rest.

"Told 'em you needed a good fuck?" I pull her panties aside, and the second they touch my fingertips I learn that she's fucking soaked. "That you were so fuckin' needy that you had to go home to me, huh?"

The soft sound of PartyNextDoor fills the car alongside the soft hum of pleasure from Raye's lips. My eyes dart down to her, the way she has her eyes glued shut, the heavy rise and fall of her chest. Then I follow the slope of her nose and the tip of her head. The city streetlights make her look like an angel, just glowing.

"Y’were the one begging for me." She groans as I slip my finger inside. The angle puts a slight strain on my wrist but I don't really care. I look back to the road, it's pure luck that the roads tonight are kind of empty.

“It worked tho’ right? Got you just how I want you.” I smirk at the fact, tapping my free hand against the steering wheel.

Raye is so damn warm against me, hugging my middle finger like a vice. "So jus' lemme know. Did you say how wet I make you, that's why you couldn't stay?"

"Oh fuck you." She moans, biting her lip so hard that I think she might draw blood.

“Imma do that, baby. Trust me.” I hum.

Maraye is reactive, if it’s the one thing I’ve noticed about having sex with her, it’s that. Sure the sound of her pussy around my finger is loud but her moans might be louder. Then when I slip in a second finger she lets out a whimper, an almost helpless one.

She tries to steady herself, splaying a hand on my center console but it only does so much. It stabilizes her for a moment until I curl my fingers in that way I know she likes. Her hips jerk up, riding up her skirt in the process.

“You tryna run? I thought you knew better than that, Raye.” I shake my head. I’m lucky we’re on a straight road, it gives me enough time to briefly let my hand leave the wheel to pin her hips down to the seat.

“Y—you’re so good.” She groans, blinking her eyes open. “M’gonna cum.”

I make a swift turn onto her street, racking my brain for all the ways I could turn this woman to putty until the sun came up. “Nah you gonna hold it until we get to yours.” I mutter, dragging my fingers in and out with a fervor. “Then you’re gonna let me fuck you with my cock.”

I watch her jaw fall slack at my words, either in shock or pleasure but regardless it’s addicting. She nods rapidly, whining as I slow my fingers until they’re barely even moving inside her and I finally get a chance to park the car.

“More, baby. Mor—”

“Gonna soak me up the way you’re soaking my seat. Jus’ fuckin’ up my car, huh? You’re gonna give it to me.” I turn my body to face her, gripping her chin so she’s looking at me. My fingers twist inside of her, the squelch of it all catches us both off guard. “Imma stretch you out so wide it hurts. Ruin that pussy, yeah?”

“Yes. God, yes.” Raye nods.

Her eyes roll back, more than enough to make me moan and pull my fingers out. They’re soaked with her arousal, a sheen that drips to my palm. I’m wrapped in the scent of her— sex, perfume, and coconut— a combination that makes me drip down my legs.

“Then let’s go.” I mutter, turning off the car sticking my keys into the pocket of my shorts. My hand comes up to my lips, cleaning them of the mess she had made. “Lemme get you right.”

—

Paige is fucking hot.

Her skin burns under my touch, yes, but it’s everything else too. How her lips chase after mine like I could run away, capturing my bottom lip in her mouth. Her tongue licking past my lips, into my mouth, and onto my tongue.

Our clothes are mostly long gone, my boots and skirt laying somewhere near my front door, and the rest of them occupied random spots across my bedroom floor.

And then that damn harness.

The first time we had sex and she brought up the strap I thought it was all a ploy to turn me on. Don’t get me wrong, it worked, made me cum so hard my legs shook until I fell asleep. But seeing it, seeing the way the dildo hangs from her hips— a long and girthy dark purple— made me drool.

She was blatantly vulgar with it, my cock, the words off her lips so dirty that i’m surprised they turn me on as much as they do. But that’s just Paige, everything she does turns me on.

She tangles her hand behind me to the clasp of my bra which she unclips and forces down my arms. Following that, a slap meets my ass hard. Hard enough that I’m almost positive she left a bruise.

“I been dreaming about this shit, y’know?” She starts. Her teeth nip at my lips, soothing the slight sting with short and soft pecks. “Tearin’ it open, how good that shit would feel.”

I hum against her, letting the blonde push me back against the bed. “That’s what got you so worked up, baby?” I tease. Paige watches me with wide eyes and an even wider mouth as I trail my panties down my legs, they’re soaked from her stunt over the phone and in the car.

“Fuck, Raye, y’ont even know.” She groans.

I watch the way her eyes flutter shut, like she’s imagining it all over again, and her hand travels to the strap. Her hand wraps around it, enough to remind me of how fucking huge her hand is. She strokes it as if it’s an extension of her. There’s a faint buzzing that I hear on the other end, and just knowing she’s getting off too makes this whole thing even more appealing.

“Been thinking about splitting me open, yeah?” I ask as my hands travel up to my chest, gripping my breast before bringing my other hand to my mouth. I’m putting on a show for her licking my fingers and shoving them between my legs, rubbing over my clit. “Make me cum on your cock, baby. Please?” I beg, widening my legs to make room for her.

“Scoot back.” The blonde instructs. And I do. I know better than to work her up some more.

I watch my girlfriend’s spit drip from her mouth and onto the tip as she hovers over me. She spreads it over the silicon before spitting on my cunt too. Paige teases the tip against me and I swear the minute she pushes it inside me, my body heat rises uncontrollably.

“Oh my—shitttt, baby!” I think I feel it in my chest, the pressure that fills me completely. My inner thighs sting as she slides the dildo in to the hilt, letting out a soft gasp that matches my expletive. Paige’s arms cage me in, palms pressed against beside my head as she starts rocking her hips.

I’ve had my fair share of sex and sexual experiences, but this right here, makes everything else I’ve ever done look like child’s play. The stretch is unbelievable. And even if Paige had taken it upon herself to try and prep me with her fingers all this time, they don’t even compare.

It’s so intimate, Paige’s breath fanning against my face and her thin silver chain dangling against me too. Her strokes are slow, and deep. Incredibly deep. She reaches a spot inside of me that hasn’t been tapped before, and she does it fast, almost instantly.

“Talk to me, pretty girl.” She murmurs in my ear. Paige’s hand wraps around my waist, raising my hips just enough to make my eyes water. “Tell me how that pussy feelin’.”

I gasp. “So… so fuckin’ good. Mmmm it’s perfect, baby.”

Paige speeds up, not rapid but just enough that I’m arching my back and throwing my hips down against her. My legs curl around her hips to pull her in deeper.

“Oh shit.” Paige grunts, the vibrator against her cunt coupled with the movement of my hips is stimulating her heavy. “This whatchu needed? Just good dick, yeah? He wasn’t hittin’ it right?”

I dig my nails into her biceps, which are huge from her All-Star break workouts, and shake my head. Her eyes flutter open, lip tucked between her teeth. She looks fucking incredible, Paige’s hair is down for the first time in a while. She’s always pulling it back, but right now with the way it shadows us in a curtain is goddess like.

“Answer me, angel.”

“Uh huh, yes! Fuck yes, I needed it so bad, P.” I moan. Paige only briefly pauses to change her angle, but then she’s right back against me. Skin to fucking skin. She unhooks my leg from around her, pushing it back as far as she could.

Her nose brushes against my own. “You take me so good. Keep suckin’ me up, ma.”

My eyes roll as the coil in my stomach tightens, I don’t think I’ve ever come this fast in my life. The way the strap rakes laboriously into my cunt is toe curling. “Needa cum. Let me, please.” I hiccup. My fingers tangle into her hair, tugging her locks slightly.

“Tell me you love it.”

Those five words are enough to make me fall under a spell. Paige’s voice is laced with fucking drugs, deep and breathy against my mouth.

“I love this shit. Love your cock, baby.” It comes out as almost a cry.

The admission makes Paige smirk and chase after my mouth, locking our lips in a kiss that draws the orgasm out of my body. She moans all high and drawn out into my mouth meshing our tongues messily.

“You wanna cum, Raye?” She stutters. I notice it, obviously. The change in her pitch and the way she slightly trips over her words. She’s close, probably overstimulated from her activities on my couch.

“Please?”

“I want it, baby. Cum for me.”

And I do. Gushing over the silicone almost instantly. Paige helps me ride it out, kissing the corner of my mouth before trailing her lips to my cheek. “Good girl. My perfect girl.” She hums.

She carefully pulls out, trying to be as gentle as she possibly can but I still hiss at the feeling. A whimper leaves my lips at the empty feeling, I miss her inside me already.

Paige flops beside me on the bed, she’s watching me catch my breath. I can feel her eyes on me even though i’m not looking at her. Her eyes like lasers, scanning over me. The blue says everything she’s yet to.

“Just say you wanna go again.”

She laughs at that while throwing her arm over my hip. It rests heavy on my abdomen. I finally turn my head to her, the sweat on her entire body only makes the chain on her neck glisten in the light.

“C’mere.” It comes out as a whimper and I can only assume it’s from the dull stimulation from the vibrator. Paige reaches for my hips, helping me straddle her hips. I happily lean down to her, kissing her perfect pink lips with a smile. “Ride it.”

I take the length in my hand, my release now decorating my palm. I tease my own entrance then sink down on it slowly. The feeling is even more foreign than taking her in missionary.

Before I even get the chance to take every inch my hands fly to her chest, I plant my palms on her for stability.

“Too big?” It’s one of the first times I’m unsure if she’s serious or just teasing. I press my forehead against Paige’s, my chest heaving and breathless moans leaving my mouth.

“N—No. Jus’ full. So full, P. Fuck.” I dart my head into the crook of her neck whining like an animal as she pushes me down her cock. I swear it sits in my stomach.

Her large and veiny hands grip my ass, she starts the pace off slow, using me like a fucking toy. “Y’know I gotchu.” Paige whispers into my ear.

“It’s—mmph— so fuckin’ deep. I can’t, baby.” I moan again, trailing my hand back to her hair as if the blonde locks would ground me.

It’s like Paige’s demeanor shifted within a matter of seconds. She’d been soft all night, at least for the most part, but the way her hand slaps my ass is anything but soft. “One month with me and you can’t take dick no more? What happened, mama? You were talking all that shit—”

I cut her off by getting on my toes and the first grind of my hips shuts her up. Her groan was thick, the kind of gruff sound that made it seem like she was barely hanging on herself. The blonde nips at my collarbone.

Paige watches me like a hawk, her breathing heavy and jaw slightly slack. “M’fucking God, Raye. Ohhh shit— you’re a fuckin’ slut.” She moans. Her body falls deeper into the stack of pillows, leaning back just enough to look over my body. My tits in her face and her strap sliding in and out of my soaked cunt.

“Your s-slut tho’. Right, baby?”

“Yeah. All fucking mine, ride me like a pro.”

The way her eyes snap shut makes me work harder. I bounce on the balls of my feet, any previous inhibitions disappearing as soon as I saw how good it was for her. How her legs trembled under me.

I bite my lip in an attempt to keep quiet, much to Paige’s dismay. She reaches for my bottom lip, untucking it from my mouth and forcing her thumb inside instead. I suck on it instantly, throwing my hips down harder.

“Feels so good, P…” I mumble around her finger. “S’in my stomach.”

“I know, ma. So tight, for me.” She groans. Paige’s hips snap up into mine, instantly ruining any rhythm I had for myself. I scream erupts from my throat, one I didn’t even know I was holding back until she does it again.

Her thumb leaves my mouth, hands gripping my hips, nails digging into the skin. I meet her halfway, matching her thrusts with my grinds. “Gonna cum. Need it, baby. Needa nut in this pussy, fuck.” Paige babbles, her better judgment clouded by the need to get off.

It’s sexy. Her voice frays around the edges, suddenly becoming much more weak than before.

“You love this pussy, right, baby?”

“Mmm. Love it, love this shit. Oh my God.”

There’s only been a few times I’ve gotten to see Paige fall apart. Like fully lose all of her dominance and just lose herself. This is easily one of those times.

“Raye, I’m— fuuckkkk, you feel so good, damn.” She tosses her head back, moan after moan meeting my ears as she finishes. And there’s a part of me, that hopes all the literal inaccuracies dissipate and she does come in me. Deep inside until I’m dripping with it.

That picture makes me work faster. She’s overwhelmed, clawing at my hips but I don’t care. The need to finish myself clouds my brain.

“Ma, hold on. Fuck, hold on.”

“Needa get mine too. Don’t be selfish, P.” I grumble. I sit back on my knees, grinding my hips back and forth. I don’t hold back anything for a single second, moaning and crying out her name. Paige’s hips jerk up, and that jerk pushes me over the edge.

I squirt. Hard.

I think I go blind for a minute, nothing but stars in my vision. Paige clutches my hips, I hear the whimper that comes from her. Getting off on my own orgasm.

When I finally stop, Paige is quick to turn the vibrator off, letting out a breath I didn’t even know she was holding in. She helps me off of her and my legs, that literally feel like jelly, give out immediately. I fall to her side, and the room is filled with a comforting silence.

Paige looks at me, it was caring at first, eyes silently asking me if I was alright. To which I responded with a small nod. Then it shifts. She looks smug.

“What?”

“I took your girl virginity.” She sings, making me roll my eyes.

“I hate you.” I mutter.

“Oh I bet you do.”

[markleessodalite]

They Can Hear Us...: n.jm

content: bf!jaemin drags you to an event you don't really want to attend, so you try to devise an escape plan... but he's not one to be fooled.

warnings: fem!reader, lots and lots of kisses, maybe a tiny bit suggestive(?) but mostly just fluff, nothing else to warn about afaik

word count: 0.5k

a/n: i had a mini hoard of drabbles that i was saving to post later, but i've read over them so much to the point where now i hate every single one :/ but n e waiz i got some extra days off work this upcoming week and i'm hoping to do NOTHING but write the whole time :3 (also if you're one of the anons who sent in requests i promise i'm gonna get to those asap!!!)

“Jaemin! Stop. I mean it!” you half-heartedly scold your boyfriend, although your soft tone and light giggles clearly indicate a message that’s opposite to the words leaving your lips.

Jaemin plants another teasing kiss to the corner of your mouth. “Hmm, are you sure?” He kisses the tip of your nose, then your cheek, making his way down your jaw and to your exposed shoulder as he laces his fingers with yours. “Seems like you kinda like it, huh? Love this dress, by the way.” His free hand rubs gentle lines along your back, with only just enough restraint to not mess up the delicate fabric of your one-shoulder gown.

You knew he loved this dress, particularly how you look in this dress, which is exactly why you wore it to this gala. You weren’t especially excited to be here, but Jaemin was over the moon eager to take you, show you off to everyone else there, his girlfriend who looks like an absolute princess under ballroom lights with her arm linked in his. Of course, you knew that after about 5 minutes of you in this dress, he wouldn’t be able to focus on whatever charity event is going on around you two– which is how you’ve found yourself hidden in an offshoot hallway, Jaemin cornering you against the wall, planting light and playful (but very obviously needy) kisses anywhere his lips can reach.

Hey, it got you out of sitting at that boring table with those boring people listening to that boring speaker, right? All part of your coy little plan.

The only sound filling your ears now is your own soft giggles against Jaemin’s low chuckles and whispers, with him now developing a game to entertain himself with: trying to find that one particular spot that will drive you crazy.

“Here?” He plants a kiss behind your ear.

“Nope.” You bite down on your lip to stifle any noise that could possibly slip through. You may be vaguely hidden, but you’re definitely still within earshot of the rest of the gala.

“Mmm. Then… here?” He hovers around the middle of your neck before leaving another kiss.

“No…” You can’t help the giggle that slips through your teeth.

“Okay… what about… here?” He leaves a kiss in the nook between the bottom of your neck and your collarbone, before biting down teasingly, drawing a squeal from you before you can catch it.

“Jaemin!” You can’t help but laugh, amused at Jaemin’s quick victory in his own game.

“Shh! Y/n, you know they can hear us…” Jaemin buries his face further in your neck, and you look over him to see the silhouettes of the other guests, turning their attention from the monotone speaker to figure out what direction the hushed giggles are coming from.

Here it is. Exactly the opportunity you need to convince him to go home.

“Then why don’t we go somewhere they can’t hear us, Jaem?”

He lifts his head from your shoulder to look in your eyes, and you know right away he sees through your little escape plan. And he’s not falling for it.

“No. I kinda like this little game. Round two? Let’s see if you can keep quiet, babe.” He smirks proudly at your shocked face before his lips crash into your neck again, and you realize he’ll play this game he’s made up for as long as this gala lasts. Can you handle Jaemin teasing you for several more hours without making a sound?

[madamechrissy]

🍰Birthday Cake🍰

Pairings: Suguru Geto x Fem reader

Drabble- MDNI- suggestive/kissing/touching- fluff/light smut

It's your roommate Suguru Geto's birthday, and of course you, Nanami, Haibara, Shoko and Satoru, are celebrating. Satoru is trying to shove cake in Suguru's face, Shoko is throwing back shots, and Nanami is trying to make everything precise, while you're getting together your gift for him.

But you can't stop thinking about the way his soft silky dark hair is falling over his shoulders, how he gives you the sweet, sleepy smile, the one you see every night before you sleep. You always wonder... would he ever feel the same? If you let it blurt out!?

You step nervously towards him now, you know him better than anyone, but the gift may be too much, it may make things complicated between you. It may very well get you friend zoned forever, or worse, but you can't stop yourself. When he nibbles on a bite of the cake, licking frosting off his lips, your breath catches.

"What is it, Princess?" He asks softly, and you clear your throat, handing him the little package, in a pretty gold bad with glittering paper, leaning close, murmuring in his ear.

"If it's way off, please... just forget it." He frowns then, blinking just a bit, before peering inside and seeing it, a picture of you in nothing but lingerie, his eyes open wide at it, violet depths shooting up to catch your blushing face.

"Oh my..." He pauses then, and you think shit, you've really fucked up, when he's dragging you to the room, pressing you against his door, and your friends are snickering in the living room. "Any chance you're wearing it now?"

"There very well may be." You tease, unbuttoning one button, than the other of your blouse, until you let it fall, revealing the black lacy bra, see through, and he moans softly, cupping your face.

"You're beautiful." You exhale, blinking rapidly, feeling emotions at his thumb brushing your lower lip. "I'm one step from fucking losing it with you, all the time, and now this?"

"You are!?" He chuckles softly, nodding then, leaning forward and capturing your lips in a seering kiss, before pulling back, glaring. "What!?"

"Who took that?"

"Oh, Satoru did- I'm kidding! It was Shoko." His anger immediately turns to relief, then your hand cups the sharp jaw of his, happy to see him smiling again, it's been a rough year for all of you. "I want more, Suguru, if you do."

"Let me show you how much." He's kissing you deeply, and it rushes through you, the desire, his tongue ring clicking your teeth, as he grips your breasts in his big hands. You're moaning softly when he unbuttons your skirt, letting it fall, touching you with sure fingers, finding you damp. "You're soaked, princess."

"Mnh..." Is all you manage, when he's kissing down your neck, making you cry out softly.

"Shh, Princess." Suguru's leaning low now, one hand entangling in your hair, and you taste the frosting on his tongue, mixing with him, Suguru, you feel like you're dreaming, as a strong thigh parts yours, feeling your heat against him. He's throbbing under his slacks as he watches your hips roll, thinking you're the gift he couldn't imagine.

"Suguru, shouldn't I be doing that on your birthday?" You ask, as he's on his knees, kissing you over your lacy barier, hot mouth teasing your twitchy clit, and he smirks, looking up under dark lashes. You're crying out as he tastes how sweet you are, your wetness pouring through the lace as he laps at it.

"Pretty sure this is my birthday cake, hmm?"

Happy birthday Suguru! <3

Some silliness for our emo babe, he does NOT get enough love on here, ever.

Perma Tags: @alt--er--love @seeing-stars-alt @nanasukii28 @labelt-san @makingtimemine @cuntphoric @n1vi @aldebrana @indiewritesxoxo @loafteaw @moonlitwitchdaisy @beachaddict48 @miizuzu @honeybunnnnie @1brii @gojosukuna2268 @waterfal-ling @moncher-ire @orikixx @uhnosav @baepsays @designerpvssy @jinjen

[mononijikayu]

good old–fashioned lover boy — fushiguro megumi.

“Hey, Megumi?” you asked suddenly, your tone unusually serious. He sighed, bracing himself. “What?” “I like you.” His brain short-circuited. His hand jerked, and his ice cream wobbled dangerously on its cone. "Huh?"

GENRE: alternate universe - canon convergence;

WARNING/S: afab! reader, use of feminine pronouns, post-shinjuku showdown, post-hidden inventory arc, aged up fushiguro megumi, fluff, friends to lovers, romance, romantic relationship, pet names (babe, megs, kiddo, cactus, etc), humor, teasing, light-hearted, healthy relationship, being in love, slice of life, domestic life, living together, friendship, family, anxiety, self-doubt, encouragement, depictions of anxiety, depiction of healthy relationship, depiction of self-doubt, sorcerer! megumi, gojo! reader;

WORD COUNT: 7k words

NOTE: this went through so much adding, removing and editing cause i kept adding so much and i didn't want this to be something that was too long, considering i want people to not be impatient with me too,,,,,in any case, megumi beat his dad in the last poll season for valentines special which is funny but no worries, toji will appear in the 2.5k follower special!!! in any case, i hope you enjoy this, even a little bit. i love you all so much!!! <3

masterlist

if you want to, tip!

buono san valentino, 2025;

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HE NEVER THOUGHT HE WOULD EVER GET TO THIS POINT. Even when he was young, he wondered what love really looked like. At least of what he could remember of it, he knows. He wasn’t an expert on love, per se.

But he had seen and experienced so many versions of it, each one different from the last, all passing through his rather short life one after the other. 

Some of it was truly a memory that would be worth forgetting, too messy and too complicated, tangled up in unspoken words and distance, yet still undeniably present. Others felt like they belonged to live forever, with its genuine warmth and its eager simplicity, yet always just out of reach. 

When he thinks about both of them, it feels like sunlight slipping through his fingers, like a home he could see but never fully step into. It was hard to express these feelings sometimes, because at times he doesn’t know if any words can encapsulate such overabundance and its extremes. He thinks about it often, how love can take on so many forms. 

How it can be obnoxiously proud and boisterously loud,like Gojo Satoru’s laughter echoing through any room when they’re together, or dazzlingly silent and resiliently tender, like the way his sister Tsumiki used to squeeze his hand just to let him know she was there when his father left.

Love can look a lot like sacrifice, like choosing someone else over yourself. It was just that way to him when you love someone. It can be fleeting, burning bright and disappearing before you ever get the chance to hold onto it.

And just as much, love has many colors, many words, many textures. It can be the rough scrape of bandages being wrapped around bruised knuckles, or the soft hush of a whispered be careful. 

It can be the weight of someone's winter coat draped over his shoulders when he didn’t even realize he was cold. It can be the exhaustion in someone’s voice when they say I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me—even when they clearly aren’t, even when they want to say it out loud.

For a long time, Fushiguro Megumi thought love was something you had to earn. He always thought that it was something you had to be worthy of in order to gain. That if you weren’t good enough, strong enough, or needed enough, it would slip away, leaving nothing but empty space where it once existed.

For as long as he could remember, Megumi carried a gnawing doubt within him. He couldn’t help it. There was a certainty in his soul that love was something distant, always out of reach.

No matter how much he was reminded he mattered, that doubt lingered like a shadow at the edges of his heart. He didn’t know where it came from exactly, only that it had burrowed deep inside, whispering that he was undeserving.

At times, he wondered if love was something some people were simply never born to have. Maybe it was a gift reserved for those with a past worth cherishing or a future worth hoping for.

He had neither. He didn’t even know how he had come into this world or who he was meant to be. How could someone who didn’t know themselves be worthy of love?

But then in his doubt, came the truth and that was named you.

You who was like the meteorite that crashed on his Earth.

You who was the universe he found himself alive for the first time.

And suddenly, the thought of love, the very word, feels like something else entirely. The word somehow finally made sense. Something he doesn’t have to chase or fight for.

Something that stays. Something that holds his hand and meets him where he is, rather than waiting for him to catch up. And more than ever, his heart felt full of warmth in the spring of love.

Fushiguro Megumi never expected to find love’s truth, not like this. And certainly not with someone like you. The two of you were just too different, especially when you were children. He didn’t understand why Gojo Satoru thought that it would be a good idea for you both to meet. 

He was all quiet brooding and thoughtful stares, while you were a storm of energy and laughter, moving through life like gravity itself. Megumi could easily remember the first time Gojo Satoru introduced you both when you were children.

You were Gojo’s little niece, his only one and since he and Tsumiki were the only kids around your age, he thought it would be wise for you to meet them, especially Megumi.

But what was premonition on Gojo Satoru’s part was that the two were destined to be best friends. Though back then, he looked at him with a weird look that could only be akin to a cat’s soured frown.

What was Gojo about? Megumi couldn’t help thinking. And why does he keep talking about it with a grin on his face? I don’t even know the kid.

"You'll love her, Megumi!" Gojo grinned, ruffling his dark hair with an obnoxiously affectionate hand. "She's just like me—minus the blindingly handsome part."

Megumi scowled, swatting Gojo's hand away. "That sounds like a nightmare."

Gojo gasped dramatically, clutching his chest. "A nightmare? Me? You wound me, kid."

"Good." Megumi muttered.

Gojo chuckled, unfazed. "Seriously though, she's great. Full of energy, adventurous, charming—"

"Loud." Megumi deadpanned.

"You're not wrong, kid." Gojo admitted with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. "But that just means she’ll bring some excitement into your broody little life. Trust me, it'll be fun!"

"Your definition of fun is questionable." Megumi muttered.

Before he could come up with a decent excuse to escape this impending chaos, Gojo Satoru stops at one of the massive wooden buildings around the gardens. Fushiguro Megumi could not mentally prepare as you came barreling around the corner, waving enthusiastically towards the,.

"Uncle Satoru!" you shouted gleefully, sprinting toward them.

"There's my favorite niece!" Gojo grinned, catching you in a playful spin before setting you down. 

You giggled. “But I’m your only niece!”

“And that’s why you’re my favorite, sweets.” He ruffles your hair too, eliciting another giggle from you. "Hey, sweets, I came with a visitor. This is Megumi. He's about your age, and I'm officially declaring you two best friends starting now."

"Best friends?" you tilted your head, scrutinizing Megumi like he was some science experiment. "He looks grumpy, uncle Satoru."

Megumi crossed his arms, his expression flat. "And you look annoying."

Your face scrunched into an exaggerated pout. "And you look like a cactus."

Gojo, who had been sipping from a juice box like some oversized child, promptly choked and burst into uncontrollable laughter. "Oh, I love this already. Besties immediately!" he wheezed, wiping a tear from his eye. "You two are gonna be perfect together."

Megumi's brows furrowed. "What does that even mean?"

"Cactus vibes." you said confidently, tapping your chin. "Tall, spiky, and grumpy."

"I am not grumpy." he protested, though his tone only made your point stronger.

"And yet here we are, cactus!" you quipped with a cheeky grin.

Gojo cackled, slinging an arm around Megumi's shoulders. "You are kinda cactus-y, kid. But hey, she’s got the sunshine to balance you out. You might even grow a flower or something."

Megumi sighed in defeat. "I don’t need metaphors from you of all people."

"Don’t worry, cactus boy." you grinned, poking his arm. "I like a challenge."

"Great." Megumi muttered under his breath. "Now I’m stuck with a loud weirdo and a lunatic white haired old guy."

Gojo clapped his hands together triumphantly. "See? This is friendship in the making."

Megumi glared at both of you, but Gojo’s laughter and your bright smile made it hard to hold on to the scowl. Maybe Gojo wasn’t entirely wrong—though he wasn’t about to admit that anytime soon. Not just yet. He wasn’t one to give in just because there was space for it. 

Megumi sighed, already regretting every decision that had led him to this moment. "This is going to be a disaster."

"Disaster?" you grinned wickedly. "Sounds fun!"

Gojo clapped his hands together, beaming. "See? Told ya you'd love her."

Megumi grimaced. "I'm already doubting that."

From the start of you two starting to play together, you easily grated his nerves. He hated how loud you were, hated how you always seemed to find trouble at every turn, and somehow, at every sudden thought you had, you easily managed to drag him into it too.

And that was perhaps the most infuriating part: he hated how effortlessly you pulled him into your orbit. But the truth was, he never really hated you at all. He liked you, genuinely and deeply, in a way that bewildered him. He just didn’t understand it back then.

"Come on, Megumi! Don’t be boring!" you'd whine, tugging insistently on his arm as a mischievous glint sparked in your eyes. "Help me put these fart pillows on their chairs!"

Megumi stared at you, deadpan. "You're going to get us both in trouble."

You waved off his concern like it was a pesky fly. "Trouble? Nah. It'll be hilarious. Just picture it with a very vivid imagination. The Gojo elders, all serious and proper, sitting down to a pfft! symphony. Priceless!"

"I like being boring." he grumbled, firmly rooted in place even as his feet betrayed him by inching forward.

"No, you pretend to like being boring, Megs." you shot back confidently, dragging him along despite his weak protests. "Deep down, you’re just waiting for me to show you how fun life can be."

Megumi sighed heavily. "You have an overactive imagination."

"And you have underdeveloped prank skills." you retorted with a grin, tossing him one of the cushions. "Come on, you're already in this. May as well go all in."

He stared at the cushion in his hand, weighing the likelihood of Gojo elders delivering a stern lecture versus the small, treacherous part of him that was curious about their reactions.

"Fine." he muttered, resigning himself to chaos. "But if we get caught, this was your idea."

"Deal!" you grinned triumphantly. "Now, put that under the grumpiest elder's seat. It'll be poetic."

Megumi couldn't suppress the faint smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he followed your lead. Chaos was inevitable, but with you, it was never boring—and maybe, just maybe, he didn’t mind that so much.

“You’re always scowling, do you notice?” you teased, nudging his shoulder. “But I’m pretty sure you don’t actually hate me, y'know.”

Megumi rolled his green-blue eyes. “That’s debatable.”

“Oh please, you’re basically glued to me at this point.”

“You glue yourself to me.” he countered, lips twitching despite himself.

“Admit it, Megs!" you grinned. "You like me.”

He sighed, long and exaggerated, like he was being asked to move a mountain rather than admit his feelings. "Maybe." he muttered under his breath, the word barely audible.

But it was enough for you. Your entire face lit up, your grin brighter than Gojo's sunglasses on a summer day. "Is that a maybe from Megumi? I'll take it!"

He groaned inwardly, already regretting his choice of words. 

But the warmth spreading through his chest betrayed him. 

Perhaps, the truth is that there was no maybe about it.

And over time, as the days blurred into years and you remained firmly by his side, continuing to drag him into your schemes when he came around the Gojo manor, making him laugh when he least expected it, and somehow softening his rough edges. He would have figured it out. There were more words for you than just like.

It hit him one afternoon during a clan gathering. The elders were droning on about something he wasn't paying attention to, but his green-blue orbs were somehow trained on you, standing across the garden path, animated as always. 

Then he showed up.

That stupid clan boy with a perfectly styled ponytail and a smug look that Megumi immediately decided he hated.

Megumi's eyes harshly narrowed as the boy leaned in, all charming confidence, and reached for your delicate hand. He watched as your fingers slid easily into the boy's, and something inside him snapped. Something he never expected to be inside him whatsoever.

"Nope." Megumi muttered under his breath, already stalking across the garden before he could think better of it.

You blinked in surprise as Fushiguro Megumi suddenly appeared beside you, his strong hand suddenly and possessively wrapping around your own hand, pulling it free from his new enemy, the Ponytail Boy's grip. 

"Hey, I was talking to her, you punk." Ponytail Boy protested.

"She's busy." Megumi said flatly, not even sparing the guy a glance.

"I am?" you blinked up at him, amused.

"Yeah. With me."

You bit back a laugh, warmth blooming in your chest as you squeezed his hand. "Well, when you put it like that..."

As Ponytail Boy slunk away, clearly outmatched by Megumi's sheer intensity, you grinned up at him. "Jealous much?"

"No." he said far too quickly, his ears turning an undeniable shade of pink.

You beamed. "Adorable."

"You're imagining things." he grumbled, but his grip on your hand remained firm.

And in that moment, without needing to say a word, you both knew: there was never a maybe. Not for him, not when it came to you.

Fast forward to Valentine’s Day, 2017.

This was a day that was already testing Fushiguro Megumi’s patience with all the pink balloons, heart-shaped everything, and couples everywhere. It was hard enough that he felt these possibly one–sided feelings for you. But now he had to be confronted with the idea of love once again. And he hated it. He hated it too much.

The only reason he’s bearing with all of it was that you had urged him to meet up because you wanted ice–cream. And for the first time in a long time, you were allowed to leave the confines of Gojo Manor, to visit your uncle in Tokyo. And by extension, hang out with him.

The two of you sat on a park bench, quietly enjoying your cones under the peak of the beam of the persistent sun. Well, he was trying to enjoy his, but you kept sneaking bites from him despite having your own. And he could not for the life of him stop taking glances at you with these eyes of his.

“Hey, Megumi?” you asked suddenly, your tone unusually serious.

He sighed, bracing himself. “What?”

“I like you.”

His brain short-circuited. His hand jerked, and his ice cream wobbled dangerously on its cone. "Huh?"

“I said.” you grinned, clearly enjoying his reaction, “I like you. Like like-like you.”

Megumi blinked, as though processing your words required advanced calculus. “Is this... is this because it’s Valentine’s Day? Like some weird theme confession? Is this some stupid prank from you?”

You laughed. “No, dummy. I just thought today was as good a day as any to tell you."

He stared at you, his heart doing some chaotic drum solo against his ribs. “Oh.”

“Oh?” you teased, leaning closer. “That’s it? Just oh?”

Megumi huffed, looking away as if the pigeons nearby were suddenly fascinating. “I... I guess I like you too.”

You gasped dramatically. “Oh my gosh, was that a confession? Did Megumi Fushiguro just confess his feelings, romantically?”

“Stop making it weird, you dummy.” he grumbled, ears turning bright red.

“Too late!” you beamed, nudging his arm. “We’re totally counting that as your confession. Mark it in the history books: Valentine’s Day, 2017, Megumi Fushiguro admitted he likes me!”

He groaned. “I should’ve dropped my ice cream and run when I had the chance.”

“But you didn’t.” you teased, bumping his shoulder.

“No." he muttered, hiding a small, reluctant smile. "I didn’t."

And so began Fushiguro Megumi’s unexpected, often confusing, and undeniably heartfelt adventure to understand love.

Love, as it turned out, wasn’t some abstract ideal or distant fairy tale — it was you, standing right in front of him, messy and beautiful in all your chaotic brilliance. Love was shaped by you, and to him, that made it the most perfect thing he could ever hope for.

But he had to be honest: it wasn’t easy. And it will never be easy.

He struggled with it more than he cared to admit. Love wasn’t just about keeping you safe, though his protective instincts always flared when you tripped into trouble. It wasn’t just quiet affection either, where he'd stand in the background making sure you had space to shine. Love wasn’t just comfort found in familiar silences, though he cherished those too.

No, love was new.

Love was terrifying.

Love demanded vulnerability and bravery in ways that battles never did. Because of this love, his heart would stutter when you smiled at him, catching him off guard like a punch he never saw coming.

It made his chest ache in a strange, bittersweet way when you were upset — as though he carried your burdens alongside his own. It made him want to try, even when his instincts told him to retreat into silence.It made him want to be someone worthy of that love, someone who would stay, despite the part of him that feared he never could.

It’s in the little things, the moments that are easy to overlook if you’re not paying close attention. But when you do, when you really see him, it’s impossible to miss the depth of his love. And you tell him each time, you adore it. Everything about it was perfect.

It’s the way he loves you in the quietest and yet loudest way all at once so beautifully. It’s in the way he waits for you after class, leaning casually against a wall, trying to look indifferent, but you know—you always know—he’s been there for much longer than he lets on. 

It’s the way he keeps track of your favorite snacks, the ones you forget to buy when you’re too busy with school, work, or whatever else life throws at you. And when you’re rushing out the door, he slips them into your bag with a quiet, almost invisible smile. No words, just a simple gesture of care that makes you feel like the most important person in the world.

It’s in the way he insists on walking on the side of the road closest to the street, always positioning himself between you and the traffic like it’s the most natural thing in the world. His hand brushes against yours, ever so lightly, but there’s a promise there—a silent vow of protection, of never letting anything bad happen to you if he can help it.

It’s in the way he takes off his uniform coat on a chilly evening when he visits you and presses it against your own body, his eternal warmth enveloping you like a shield against the winter cold. The way his hands linger just a little longer than necessary, his fingers grazing your skin in a way that speaks volumes about how much he cares.

And it’s not just in the little things. Sometimes, it’s in the quiet way he listens when you talk about everything that’s on your mind, even the things you think are too insignificant to mention.

You could ramble on for minutes, spilling out thoughts, worries, and stories, and he’ll just stand there, eyes blossoming with affection, his attention never wavering. 

He doesn’t interrupt, doesn’t offer unsolicited advice. He just listens to you. Just truly listens to you, as though he truly wants to understand you, to carry your thoughts for you if he can. To make sure that he holds your thoughts as closely as you do his.

It’s in the rare moments when he’s vulnerable, those quiet admissions that sneak out when he thinks you’re not paying attention. The way his gaze softens when he talks about his past, about how he’s learned to trust you.

It’s in the way his hand finds yours when you least expect it. Sometimes just a brush of fingers, other times a firm grip that says I’m here, no questions asked.

And there’s the way he tries to make you smile when he knows you’ve had a bad day. He doesn’t have to try hard, because you know the secret behind his subtle humor, his dry wit. Just a look from him can turn the world back to normal, like the simple fact that you’re together is enough to make everything right again.

And in those little moments, your heart beats faster—over and over again.

Somehow, each moment, each time was louder with love than the last.

It was easy to see how much he loved you and only you.

Of course, Fushiguro Megumi isn’t great with words, you know that much. He’s told you from the very beginning. But he’s never needed to say much, because he always shows you. Actions meant more to you.

So, he makes sure, without fail, to let you feel his devotion, every single time. Even when his words falter or he stumbles on his feelings, that doesn’t matter much to you. 

The way he loves you is almost a quiet rebellion against everything he's known about himself, about what he knows love, that was enough to turn the world upside down. Fushiguro Megumi’s never been the type to wear his heart on his sleeve and even with you, it causes him a lot of grief. 

Fushiguro Megumi adores you, much more than he could ever hope. And just as much, he feels like he fails at it. At least that’s how he feels about it. He thinks he just can’t help it.

He can’t help but feel like his actions are not enough, that his sleeve isn’t wearing your heart close to him. It’s like he’s falling short of being someone worthy of you, when you do so much for him.

Sometimes, it feels like no matter what he does, it isn’t enough. It frustrates him, gnaws at him late at night when he stares at the ceiling, wondering if he loves you enough, if he shows it enough.

Because you make it look so easy. You laugh when you’re happy, you say I love you so freely, and you never hesitate to pull him into a hug, or press a soft kiss to his cheek.

He wants to be more proactive, just like you. He wants to be as good as you when it comes to love. But he’s stiff. Awkward. Someone who is a little too rough around the edges, perhaps even more than that.

It’s not that he doesn’t love you, he does, so much it terrifies him. Yet he struggles with what words to use or would those words be enough.It had been years. 

"You know…." he grumbled, leaning against a wall and watching you laugh at something Maki said. "I wish I could just... I don’t know, tell her I love her. Like a normal person."

Nobara raised an eyebrow, hands on her hips. "Normal? Megumi, you are literally the least normal person I know, and that’s saying something."

"Hey!" Yuuji protested, nudging her. "You can’t say that about our bro. He’s a classic kind of weird."

Nobara ignored him. "So what’s the problem? You’ve been dating her for years now. I’m pretty sure you’re closer to marriage now. How have you not told her you love her yet?"

Megumi squirmed, tapping his foot awkwardly. "I don’t know. It’s just... I can’t make it sound right. I’m not... loud enough, you know?"

Yuuji snorted. "Bro, are you telling me you can't even shout ‘I love you’ in her face like a normal person?"

"Yuuji!" Nobara scolded, glaring at him. "This is Megumi we’re talking about. He’s more of a ‘grumble in the corner’ kind of guy. Or you know, ‘act it out like a mime if I can’t say it out loud’ sort of guy."

Megumi just groaned. "Exactly! I can’t just scream it! That’s...weird, right?"

Nobara crossed her arms. "You’re seriously telling me you can’t even try? I mean, look at her!" She pointed at you as you walked over, still in your own world. "She’s practically begging for you to shout it out loud!"

Megumi shot her a side-eye. "She is not begging for anything."

"I mean, I’m just saying, Megumi." Yuuji shrugged. "The guy who practically glows around his girlfriend could definitely manage a 'Hey, I love you!' without coming off as weird."

"I don’t glow." Megumi muttered, but he was starting to feel the heat creeping up his neck.

Nobara clapped him on the back. "Okay, look, here’s what you do: You. Take a deep breath. And then—" She paused, putting her hands together in a mock prayer. "You say it loud and proud: 'I love you! You're my sunshine! You’re the ketchup to my fries! The soy sauce to my sushi!' You get it?"

"That’s not what I’m trying to say at all." Megumi protested, now totally flustered.

"Come on, just let it out!" Yuuji grinned, his energy bouncing off the walls. "You love her, right? Then scream it from the top of your lungs!" He pulled out a random megaphone from his bag. "I’ll even provide the sound effects!"

"Yuuji, I swear to—"

"Just... just say it however you feel comfortable." Nobara interrupted with a knowing look. "But maybe—maybe—try something that doesn’t sound like you're reading from a self-help book, yeah?"

Megumi took a deep breath, hands still sweaty. "I don't even know if I can—"

"You totally can, I know you can!" Yuuji encouraged, giving him a thumbs-up. "Just say it, man! Use songs, do whatever. Just tell her out loud! Think about it like it's a movie moment! Gotta go big!”

Megumi had their words in his head all day and now it was simmering too long. He couldn’t help but look at you for a moment. You’re sitting beside him on the couch, leaning into his side as you scroll through your phone, checking what to buy for your mom’s birthday.

The sound of the television hums in the background, playing a show neither of you are really watching. The warmth of your presence should be comforting, but it only makes his heart heavier with the weight of everything he wants to say.

He steals a glance at you. The way your lips are slightly parted in concentration, the soft glow of the screen illuminating your features. And god, he loves you. He just does, too much, too overwhelmingly. But the words get stuck in his throat, trapped behind the walls he hasn’t quite learned how to break down.

Still, he tries.

You know he does.

That’s why you love him.

Your good–old fashioned lover boy.

“I, uh…” He clears his throat, shifting uncomfortably. “I—uh, you know I—”

You blink up at him, amused. “Are you having a stroke, babe?”

“No.” he grumbles, ears already turning red. “I’m trying to say something.”

“Oh?” You set your phone down, tilting your head. “Then say it.”

Megumi swallows, his body somehow tense. He can feel the words clogging his throat, his mind screaming at him to just get it over with. Megumi looks at you, nervously, his face red from it all. His fingers twitch at his sides.

You can see the way he shifts his weight like he’s debating whether this was a terrible idea. (It probably is, he thinks. Overwhelmingly, to be sure).

But still, for some reason—maybe insanity, maybe the way you’re looking at him so expectantly. Yet, he decides to go through with it anyway. If he bombs, you’ll laugh and that would be worth it too.

Clearing his throat, he mutters. “I can dim the lights and sing you songs full of sad things.”

You blink at him, your head tilting slightly. “Huh?”

He’s already regretting it, but at this point, he can’t just stop. His voice is a little lower now, more hesitant, but he continues, “We can do the tango just for two.”

Now you’re really confused. Your brows furrow, and he can see the gears turning in your head, trying to piece together what exactly he’s saying. But he keeps going, voice a little stiffer, a little more awkward than before. Almost instantly, he can feel the heat crawling up his neck.

“I can serenade and gently play on your heartstrings.”

And then finally—it clicks for you.

Your lips part slightly before curling into a slow, amused smile.

“Ah.” you hum, crossing your arms. “So Queen’s lyrics are your idea of romance poetry, babe?”

Megumi tenses like he’s been caught doing something unspeakably embarrassing, his entire face burning. “It’s not—” he starts, before cutting himself off with a frustrated sigh. “You know what, never mind.” 

He shakes his head, looking utterly done with himself, already gearing up to escape this moment entirely. But before he can retreat into his usual brooding silence, you reach out and take his hand, lacing your fingers through his. He freezes at the warmth of your touch, and when he looks back at you, you’re grinning, eyes twinkling with delight.

“No, no. I love it, babe.” you say, squeezing his hand. And then, with that playful glint in your eye, like when you were kids. It was the one that made his heart do something stupid. You continue. “I mean, I can also be your Valentino just for you.”

Megumi stares at you, utterly dumbfounded. For a second, he looks like he’s buffering, as if his brain is refusing to process what just happened. And then, finally, he groans, dragging a hand down his scarlet colored face. “I hate you.”

You burst into laughter, tugging him a little closer. “No, you don’t.”

And the worst part? You’re right. 

Because despite the sheer, soul-crushing embarrassment consuming him, despite everything in his being telling him he should never have attempted this in the first place, he doesn’t let go of your hand. No matter what, he had to hold your hand, even if he was using his other one to hide his red face.

Fushiguro Megumi exhales sharply, his fingers twitching in your grasp as if debating whether to pull away or hold on tighter. He settles for something in between—keeping his hand in yours but looking anywhere but at you, like that might save him from further humiliation. 

Spoiler: it doesn’t.

“You’re enjoying this way too much.” he mutters, his voice flat but laced with unmistakable exasperation.

You grin, squeezing his hand. “Oh, absolutely.”

Megumi groans, dropping his head back against the couch dramatically, like he’s hoping the universe will take pity on him and make this all go away. But the universe, as it often does when it comes to you, seems to have other plans.

Not only are you still holding onto him, your fingers intertwined so snugly. But you’re also swaying your linked hands gently, like you’re encouraging him to dance. He sighs deeply, a mixture of annoyance and amusement in his voice.

“You’re seriously not going to let this go, are you?”

“Nope, never.” you answer, grinning, your voice light and teasing. “Was the idea from Yuuji? Or was it Nobara?”

“How did you—”

You giggled. “Who else is going to make you do something like this and thinks it would work?”

He groans at you, shaking his head. “Look, I was desperate. And it just….”

“It did work, you know.” You say to him, flicking his hand with your fingers. A big smile on your face. “Your message was well received.”

“......Was it really?” He could feel his heart pounding hard against his chest.

You nodded happily. “It did. Though, I have to say…..I thought we were doing the tango just for two. Are you backing out now, Mr. Lover Boy?”

Megumi’s eyes snap open at your words, and he immediately narrows them at you, clearly ready to refuse. “We are not—”

But it’s too late.

In a swift motion, you’re already standing, tugging him up with you, not giving him a chance to protest. You can’t help but laugh at the way he stumbles slightly, thrown off balance for just a second before he catches himself, his eyes wide in a mix of surprise and disbelief.

“You’re unbelievable, you know that?” he mutters, a scowl pulling at his lips as he steadies himself, trying to hold onto what little pride he has left. His shoulders are tense, like he’s trying to act annoyed, but you can see the corner of his lips twitching as if he’s fighting back a reluctant smile.

You tilt your head, still grinning. “Yeah, well, someone’s gotta drag you out of your shell every now and then, right?”

Megumi huffs, looking at you like he’s been cornered, but there’s no real anger in his eyes. He’s already giving in, whether he likes it or not. His hands hover at his sides for a moment before one of them moves to hold yours more firmly, as if to say he’s not completely defeated yet.

“Fine, fine.” he grumbles, finally giving in, his voice soft but with a hint of warmth creeping through. “But don’t expect me to make this look good.”

You give him an exaggerated pout. “Aww, I have high hopes for you, babe. I think you’ll be a natural.”

He rolls his eyes, but there’s an undeniable softness in his gaze now. The usually guarded Fushiguro Megumi is slipping away, replaced by the version of him that’s willing to indulge you, even if it means he’ll probably trip over his own feet a few times.

“Yeah, right.” he mutters, but his hand tightens around yours, and just for a second, he lets go of his usual serious demeanor.

“And you’re blushing.” you point out smugly.

He immediately looks away, ears burning. “No, I’m not.”

You chuckle, stepping a little closer, resting your free hand lightly against his shoulder. “You are. But that’s okay.” you say, voice softening just enough to make his heart stutter. “It’s cute.”

Megumi grumbles something incoherent under his breath, but he doesn’t pull away. If anything, his grip on your hand tightens. For a moment, there’s just the two of you, just eager to be standing close to one another.

Your bodies sway slightly, wrapped up in something that feels light and easy and warm. It’s embarrassing, but somehow, it’s also nice. All too nice.

After a beat of silence, you tilt your head, a mischievous glint dancing in your eyes. “So… does this mean you’re more of a Somebody to Love kind of guy? Or just a Good Old Fashioned Lover Boy?” You pause for effect, smirking. “Are you gonna take me to a club, or to the Ritz?”

Megumi freezes for a second, caught off guard by your incessant teasing. The edges of his prominent cheeks quickly go a little pink to cherry red, and he looks at you like he’s trying to figure out how to answer without sounding completely ridiculous.

“I—I’m not, uh…” He stammers, waving his hand dismissively, clearly flustered. “I’m not a Queen fan, okay? I just—” He trails off, suddenly aware that he’s over-explaining. “I don’t even know what you’re talking about.”

You snicker, leaning in just a little closer, your voice teasing but warm. “You sure about that, Megumi?”

“My name is babe.” His eyes dart around, like he’s hoping for an escape, but then his gaze flicks to you, and he slumps in defeat. “Also…. I don’t really know. You’re a Queen fan. But I’m not a Queen fan, alright?”

You raise an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Really.”

You cross your arms, squinting at him, pretending to analyze him like he’s some kind of puzzle. “Okay, then. So tell me, what about Weezer?”

He blinks, a confused frown pulling at his lips. “What? What does Weezer have to do with this?”

“Oh, nothing, nothing.” you tease. “Except the fact that you’re practically obsessed with their music. You do listen to Buddy Holly and Say It Ain’t So on repeat, right? I mean just Island in the Sun alone, babe…..”

Megumi’s face flushes an even deeper shade of red, and he clears his throat uncomfortably. “I—I like their music. That doesn’t mean…”

You’re grinning now, enjoying his discomfort. “That doesn’t mean what? That you don’t like romantic stuff?”

He opens his mouth to protest, but the words don’t come out. Instead, he just huffs, clearly trying to maintain some semblance of his cool demeanor. “Weezer’s not romantic.”

You raise your hand in mock surrender, your voice dripping with playful sarcasm. “Oh, sure, just a bunch of songs about heartbreak, longing, and that old-school, angsty vibe. Totally not romantic.”

“Shut up.” he mutters, looking away and crossing his arms in his typical brooding fashion. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“But I do, I do, Mr. Fushiguro Megumi.”

He looks at you again, frowning. “Why are you calling me by my name? Aren’t I babe?”

You can’t help but laugh, a light sound that makes him glance back at you, half-exasperated and half-amused. “I’m just saying, babe.” you continue, poking his chest with a finger. “If you love Weezer, you’re basically guaranteed to love romantic stuff too. You might not admit it, but it’s in there, just waiting to come out.”

He groans, dropping his face into his hands, embarrassed and defeated. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re cute when you get all defensive.” you tease, giving him a gentle nudge. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna force you to do some big romantic gesture… yet. But I can see it, babe. Deep down, I know you’ve got it in you.”

He sighs, not bothering to fight it anymore. “Whatever.”

You can’t help but grin, your heart light and warm from the back-and-forth. The teasing, the playfulness. This was just on brand. It feels like an easy rhythm between you two, like a dance he didn’t expect to enjoy but now can’t help but follow. You’ve gotten under his skin in the best way possible, and the connection is undeniable.

“No, seriously.” you say, your voice softening, letting the playfulness slip away just enough to let something deeper surface. “It’s okay, babe. Don’t worry about it. You’re just what you are. And I love that. You don’t have to hide that from me.”

Your boyfriend doesn’t say anything. For a moment, the world around you seems to still. The playful air between you two quiets for just a beat, and in that space, Megumi shifts slightly, as if he’s considering something deeper than just the teasing.

His gaze softens, and for the first time, there’s no defensiveness in it. It’s genuine. It’s a look that tells you he’s letting his guard down, just a little.

And then, for once, he doesn’t try to hide the small smile tugging at his lips. It’s subtle, almost shy, but it’s there. The kind of smile that says he’s not perfect, but he’s trying. And that, in itself, makes your heart swell. Your grin can’t help but grow wider. You’re winning.

“Besides, babe….” you add, your voice teasing but affectionate. “You’re romantic. You’re my lover boy, aren’t you?”

Megumi freezes, and the light in his blue-green orbs slowly shifts. There was a mix of disbelief and amusement, like he’s trying to process the words you just threw at him. His face flushes, and he rubs the back of his neck, clearly caught off guard.

“Fine.” He sighs, the word heavy with resignation. “Maybe… maybe I’m not totally immune to it. Being…being your lover boy.”

You raise your eyebrows, giving him a teasing glance. “Oh? So it’s true?”

“Only…” His voice drops slightly, like he’s about to admit something that feels too vulnerable for him. He shifts again, looking away from you, his lips pressing into a thin line.

“Hm?” You nudge him, your voice light, but there’s a warmth in it now, something that makes his heart stumble a little.

“Only because I really like—”

You raise a hand quickly, cutting him off with a playful wag of your finger. “Uh, uh. It’s the other word.”

Megumi’s eyes widen as the weight of what you mean hits him. He swallows hard, visibly embarrassed now. “Yeah, yeah. I… I love you.”

The words hang between you two for a moment, and your grin spreads wider, your heart fluttering with an almost childlike joy. “Much better, lover boy.” you say, your voice soft but full of satisfaction, like you’ve finally heard the thing you’ve been waiting to hear for so long. 

Megumi huffs, his face still pink, but his posture loosens just a bit. You can feel the tension in him fading, the part of him that has always held back just a little, a part that he didn’t know how to let go of, finally giving in to what he truly feels.

You chuckle, stepping closer and giving his hand a playful squeeze. “I knew it. Deep down, I knew you were a softie all along. A softie I love.”

Megumi grumbles, rolling his eyes dramatically, but there’s no real heat behind it. His cheeks are still a little flushed, and his lips twitch like he’s trying to hide a smile. His voice drops to something quieter, almost tender, as he mutters. “Shut up.”

You grin even wider, brushing your shoulder lightly against his. “Aww, look at that. I made you all shy.”

He groans, but there’s no force in it. He gives your hand a little squeeze back, his touch almost gentle, like he’s trying to hide just how much he’s enjoying this. You can see the corner of his mouth twitch upward, even if he’s pretending not to care.

“You’re impossible.” he mutters, but it sounds more like an affectionate confession than anything else.

You lean up, brushing a soft kiss to his cheek, your voice teasing. “Impossible, huh? I think you just like having me around.”

Megumi’s eyes widen for a second, and he quickly looks away, though you can see the faintest smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Shut up.”

But the way his hand stays in yours says everything you need to know. You laugh, a soft, melodic sound that seems to melt the last of his resistance. There’s something about him, in this moment, that feels right. Like everything he’s been trying to hide is coming to the surface, and you’re the only one who gets to see it.

His bright eyes flicker to yours, a silent acknowledgment passing between you two. No more barriers, no more hesitation. Just you and him. And you realize, as you watch him trying so hard not to smile, that despite his grumbling, despite the layers of defensiveness he wraps himself in, maybe Megumi really is a romantic at heart. He loves you, after all.

══════════════════

epilogue 

The evening had settled in, soft golden light filtering through the windows, casting a warm glow over the kitchen. Fushiguro Megumi was standing over the stove.

There was a half-smile tugging at his lips as he stirred something in a pan, pretending to be nonchalant. You’d been chatting and laughing with him, but now you were distracted by the phone buzzing on the counter next to you.

“Hey, check my phone, will you? I think I missed a call while I was cooking dinner. Might be Maki–senpai.” he called, not even looking over his shoulder. His tone was casual, but you could sense a hint of something beneath the surface. Something that made you curious.

You reached for his phone, raising an eyebrow at the way he’d phrased it. Missed a call, huh? When you opened it, you found that the call had already disappeared, as if it was never even there. Strange, you thought, but didn’t give it too much thought—until a new notification popped up on his screen.

A notification from Spotify.

You clicked it without thinking, the app opening automatically. You froze, blinking at the screen in surprise. The very first thing that caught your eye was a playlist titled My GF’s Favorite Tunes.

Your heart skipped a beat as you scrolled through, realizing the entire playlist was a mix of Queen songs, Weezer hits, Taylor Swift, and a whole lot of other random songs that somehow seemed to perfectly fit your taste. You blinked, then let out a small, surprised laugh.

“What is this…?” You murmured, flipping through more of the tracks, utterly charmed by the odd yet thoughtful combination of songs. Some of the tracks were ones you had casually mentioned liking, others you never thought he'd remember.

You could feel Megumi standing behind you now, his footsteps quiet on the floor. “What’s up?” His voice had an almost imperceptible shift in it, but you didn’t look back at him right away.

“Oh, nothing, nothing.” you said, your grin spreading wider as you glanced over the playlist one more time, now thoroughly amused. “Just, you know… a little surprise.”

You gently set his phone down on the counter and turned toward him, your grin widening as you closed the distance. Megumi looked at you, confusion and a hint of nervousness flickering in his eyes. “What? What’s so funny?”

Without another word, you wrapped your arms around him in a sudden, tight embrace. Megumi froze, his body stiff in surprise. He stood there for a second, the silence between you two stretching, before he gently placed his hands on your back, his voice a little rough with a quiet, unexpected warmth. 

“What’s this for, hm?”

You pulled back just enough to smile up at him, your heart still beating with fondness. “For being the cutest, loving, prettiest, person I’ve ever met. And for making me a playlist that proves you’re secretly the most romantic person alive.”

Megumi blinked, his usual cool exterior cracking for a second as he flushed a little under the weight of your words. He looked away, muttering under his breath. “It’s… it’s just some songs. Nothing big at all—”

You laughed softly, pulling him closer again. “Well, you sure know how to make me smile, don’t you?”

His beautiful lips pressed into a tender smile reserved just for you. And for once, there was no argument. Just the quiet, comfortable warmth of being together, in each other’s arms. Nothing was more perfect than this moment right here, you were sure.

[bibibahngg]

【ｇａｍｅ　ｏｖｅｒ？】

------------------------------------------------------------------------------ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚pairing: felix x reader ⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖summary: yongbok tries to stay focused on the game while you distract him under the table. ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚warnings/genre: MINORS DNI!! if ur a minor dont read this :) swearing, smut, reader gives felix, um. oral attention? mouth play? physical intimacy? uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh you get it. ⋆.˚⟡ ࣪ ˖notes: idk i wrote this in the middle of the night, not proofread, english is not my first language so there might be grammar issues, im not very good at writing stuff like this but i hope u enjoy reading ! ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

the room was dim, lit only by the glow of the monitor and the soft neon hues from the rgb keyboard under felix's fingers. the sharp clicks of his keystrokes filled the space, along with the occasional deep hum of concentration as he leaned in slightly, his black hair falling over his eyes.

his voice rumbled through the air as he spoke into the mic. "wait, push mid. yeah. good. we got this." he was completely in his element, eyes locked on the screen, jaw tense with focus. his deep voice was something you'd always loved. it carried this effortless confidence, like he knew exactly how to command attention without even trying.

but tonight, you wanted to hear what it would sound like when he was struggling.

crawling onto the floor beside his chair, you rested your chin on his thigh, fingers grazing over his knee. his legs spread just slightly, absentmindedly letting you settle closer, but his eyes never left the game.

"what's up, baby?" he murmured, voice thick with focus, his deep timbre making something warm stir in your stomach.

you didn’t answer, just moved under the table, letting your hands drift higher, slow and teasing. felix's fingers faltered on the keyboard for half a second. "hold up, what are you-" his words cut off, his breath hitching as realization sank in.

bingo.

he straightened in his chair, exhaling through his nose like he was trying to ground himself. his hand reached down, fingertips brushing your wrist in a weak attempt to stop you. "babe," he muttered, so low it was nearly a growl. "don't start."

but you could hear it already—the shift in his voice, the slight waver beneath all that depth, the way he swallowed hard just to keep himself steady. it was exactly what you wanted.

his headset crackled as one of his friends spoke up. "yo, yongbok, you good?"

he cleared his throat, quickly pressing a few keys, forcing himself to focus. "yeah", he said, his voice dropping even lower than usual in an attempt to mask the strain. "just... had to readjust."

you almost laughed. had to readjust.. oh, if only they knew.

hooking your fingers into the waistband of his sweats, you tugged them down just enough before taking him into your mouth. the effect was immediate.

his whole body tensed, his deep voice catching on a sharp inhale as his fingers clenched around the edge of the desk. you felt his thighs flex beneath your hands, the sheer effort it took for him to hold still.

"fuck", he exhaled, so soft it barely left his lips. his mic was still on. you wondered if his friends caught that.

"what was that?" one of them asked.

yongbok’s head tilted back, his black hair falling away from his face as he fought to stay composed. his free hand slipped into your hair, not pushing, not guiding—just holding, like he needed something to ground himself.

"nothing", he said quickly. "focus up. we got this."

but his team didn't got shit, not when his brain was barely functioning. his breath came unevenly now, each shaky exhale making you press your thighs together in satisfaction.

you took your time, hollowing your cheeks, flicking your tongue just right, and that earned you a full-body shudder from him. his hand in your hair tightened, his knuckles going white against the desk.

"y/n," he murmured. his voice so strained it sent heat straight between your legs. "baby, i swear-"

his friends were still talking, completely oblivious to how wrecked he sounded. “yongbok, bro, call it—where are they?"

he took a second too long to answer.

"yongbok?"

he scrambled, fumbling for the keyboard with his other hand. "uh—uh, just, hold the angle."

but the damage was done. you could hear the slight shake in his voice now, the way his usual deep confidence was fraying at the edges. and god, it was intoxicating.

you decided to push him just a little more, letting your nails drag lightly down his thigh as you quickened your pace. his breath hitched, and this time, he couldn’t hold it in—his deep groan rumbled in his chest before he barely managed to stifle it with a cough.

"dude, you okay?"

yongbok slapped his mic to mute before tilting his head down to glare at you, his pupils blown wide. "you're actually evil." his voice was so low it vibrated through you.

you grinned, licking over the sensitive tip just to watch him shudder again.

his abs tightened under his hoodie, his head falling back against the chair with a deep, strangled exhale. his black hair clung to his forehead slightly, a few strands damp with sweat. his chest rose and fell unevenly, and you could see it—the exact moment he realized he wasn’t going to last much longer.

his grip on your hair tightened just enough to make you shiver, his jaw clenching as his breath turned shallow. "baby, you’re killing me", he whispered, his voice barely there, wrecked and desperate.

you pulled back just slightly after his release, letting your tongue swirl one last time before releasing him with a soft pop. yongbok sucked in a sharp breath, his eyes snapping open, hazy and dark as he looked down at you.

"you're done", he muttered, the promise of revenge thick in his voice.

you only grinned. "you're welcome."

his headset crackled to life again. "bro, what the fuck were you doing? you just sat there and let us all die."

yongbok still hadn't moved. his chest was still rising and falling heavily, his body slack in the chair, completely ruined. he exhaled, unmuting his mic.

"...allergies", he muttered.

this time, you couldn’t hold back your laughter. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ a/n: idk vro it was 2am i dont even remember writing half of this i hope u enjoyed reading bye bye!!

[dorabellingham]

Overprotect

warning: none

characters: jude x mom!reader

summary: when you are in the last months of pregnancy and he is being super protective and worried about everything

may contain spelling and translation errors!

You sighed heavily, sinking on the sofa in the living room with an exhausted expression. The eighth month of pregnancy was being cruel - your back hurt all the time, the heat seemed unbearable and finding a comfortable sleeping position was practically impossible. To make matters worse, Jude was more overprotective than ever.

-Darling, do you need anything? His voice echoed from the kitchen, worried as always.

You closed your eyes for a moment, trying to convince yourself that answering "no" would be enough for him to stop treating you as if you were made of glass. But the truth was that you really needed something.

—Water, please.

You asked, defeated.

In less than a minute, Jude was already at the room with a glass in his hand.

-Here, babe.

He said, handing over the glass and sitting next to him on the couch.

You took a sip and sighed, feeling a little relief in your dry throat. Jude, on the other hand, didn't seem satisfied.

-Are you sure you're okay? Do you want me to do a massage? Or maybe a hot shower? Or...

-Jude. -You raised a hand, interrupting the flood of suggestions. -I'm pregnant, not sick.

He sighed, clearly trying to control himself.

-I know. But it's just that... I hate to see you uncomfortable and not being able to do anything.

You looked at him, your expression softening.

-You already do a lot, babe. You take care of me more than I could ask for.

He smiled small, but still looked restless. Then, without warning, he got up and took a cushion, fixing it behind your back.

-Better?

You laughed, shaking your head.

-Yes, better.

He didn't stop there. He took another cushion and put it on her lap, helping you to better accommodate your belly.

-And now?

You rolled your eyes, but the smile on your face gave that you were loving his care.

-Now it's perfect, Mr. Bellingham.

Jude settled on the couch, passing an arm around your shoulders and letting the other hand rest on your belly.

-You're already almost nine months... -He murmured, sliding his fingers lightly over the skin of your belly. -There's so little time for our baby to arrive.

You felt your heart tighten when you saw the sparkle in his eyes. Jude was so excited to be a father, so ready. He talked about the baby every day, touched your belly as if it were your greatest treasure and looked at you with a mixture of love and gratitude that made you feel like the most special person in the world.

-Are you ready to be a father?

You asked softly.

He looked at you, surprised by the question.

-I don't think I'll ever feel ready, you know? But I want to. I want more than anything else.

Your gaze softened, and you ran your fingers through his jaw, feeling the thin beard that began to grow there.

-You're going to be an amazing father, Jude.

He smiled, lightly squeezing you waist.

-And you're going to be the best mother in the world, darling.

You opened your mouth to answer, but a hook on your back made you shrink.

-Oh...

Jude was on alert at the same time.

-What was it, Y/n?! Are you feeling something?!

You let out a frustrated moan.

-My back. They're killing me.

He didn't waste time.

-Come here. Sit on your side.

—Jude...

-C'mon, babe, sit here!

He insisted softly, already getting ready on the couch so that you could settle down there.

You, knowing that arguing would be useless, straightened up on your side, feeling his warm and firm hand begin to massage your back firmly, but without hurting you.

-Better now?

He asked, while his fingers worked to relieve the tension.

You closed your eyes, relaxing against his touch.

-Very much.

Jude smiled satisfied, continuing the movements while watching his wife surrender to relief.

-Do you have any idea how much I love you?

He murmured against your ear.

You smiled, your eyes still closed.

-I Have. And I have no idea how much you spoil me.

He laughed, gently kissing the back of your neck.

-I'll always pamper you. You and our baby.

You sighed, feeling safe in his arms. The eighth month of pregnancy could be difficult, but with Jude by your side, everything seemed a little easier.

[berfgrimm]

745 | choi seunghyun (t.o.p) x reader

pairing: choi seunghyun (t.o.p) x f!reader

warnings: smut, oral, humping, dirty talk, name calling, a little bit of roleplay (kind of?)

note: i hit a wall with what i’ve been writing so i thought trying something new would help get some things out of my system. it’s a quick one, but i hope you all enjoy!

———————

“What do you think?” Seunghyun asks, watching you press your hand to his chest, your fingers gently tracing the skull on his bomber jacket. “Does it look good?” he asks, almost too innocently, and you chuckle, thinking if he only knew what you had on your mind.

“Mhm,” you mutter. “Really good.” You gently shove him backward so he is sitting on the sofa now, peering up at you with an surprised yet amused look on his face. “When are you wearing this?”

“Tomorrow, in Osaka.” You nod slowly, bunching your skirt around your thighs and pulling your panties down your legs so they pool at your feet. “What are you doing?” he asks, eyes darting over your body. You choose not to respond, but straddle his thigh instead, letting out a gentle groan at the feeling of his pants pressing to your bare skin. “Babe,” he mutters, running one hand through his hair while the other rests on your hip. “What are you...?”

“I want to sit on your lap,” you whisper, pressing your hand to his chest as you slowly grind yourself against his thigh. The rough feeling of his pants generating friction with your slickness as you move, getting you even wetter than you thought possible.

“Fuck,” he breathes, guiding your body to keep grinding. “You need me this bad, hm?”

“Tell me that I’m a good girl,” you plead, your hand fisting his jacket so you can pull yourself a little closer to him.

“Have you been good enough for me to call you that?” Seunghyun always knows how to tease you even while you’re teasing him. He makes you feel like you’re going crazy with desire for him without even trying.

“No, I’ve been bad,” you reply. He hums thoughtfully, something that quickly turns into a sharp intake of breath when your leg that sits between his thighs finally presses to his crotch. “Don’t tell my boyfriend,” you whimper. For a moment, Seunghyun doesn’t catch on, a look of confusion plastered on his face because he’s your boyfriend — until he realizes you want to play.

“Tell me,” he rasps, staring into your eyes. “How bad have you been?”

“I sucked my boyfriend’s dick in the middle of a movie theater last month,” you whisper, licking your lips; Seunghyun grins, clearly reliving the moment between the two of you. “Then the next week, I let him use a remote controlled vibrator on me when we went to dinner with his friends.”

“Hmm, now that is very naughty,” he says, his voice steady and deep. “What’s the dirtiest thing you’ve done?” You bite your lip, trying to mask the knowing smirk that begins to spread across your face. Seunghyun notices this look and grabs your thighs with both hands, maneuvering you so that you are now straddling his lap entirely. As soon as your heat presses to him, feeling his erection through his pants, you let out a small whimper. “Tell me, baby,” he whispers, fingers curling around your hips. “And maybe I’ll give you what you want.”

“At the beginning of the year,” you start, rolling your hips against him. “My boyfriend was on tour for a few months and I didn’t get to see him...so I bought some really slutty lingerie...and FaceTimed him while I fucked myself with the toys he bought me.”

“Mmm, tell me something you haven’t told your boyfriend,” he whispers, his eyes heavy with desire but his face still composed. “I’ll bet you’ve done something that you’re too scared to tell him.”

“I watched some videos of him on stage and I touched myself,” you admit, your voice weak as the coil begins to tighten in your stomach. “I told him I wouldn’t do it if he wasn’t around, but I couldn’t help myself.”

“You love to touch yourself when he’s not around,” Seunghyun breathes, shaking his head. “Did you forget...when you visited your boyfriend, and he was busy with rehearsals...so you fingered yourself in his hotel room because you were too horny to wait?” Your face flushes and you place your hands on his shoulders, grinding down harder against him. “What happened after that?” Seunghyun asks, eyes glued to your lips. “Hmm?”

“You…” All breath escapes you for a moment as you feel yourself dripping onto Seunghyun’s lap at the memory. “He showed up,” you gasp.

“And you were moaning like a slut, isn’t that right?” Seunghyun asks, helping you grind faster, able to see how close to the edge you are. “Putting on a show for me?”

“Yes,” you breathe. You tighten your legs around his body, moving faster and harder, desperate for your release. “Fuck, I’m gonna come,” you groan, pressing your face against his neck.

“All over my lap?” he whispers, kissing your head. “You’re right: you are really fucking bad.” You gasp and whimper, movements becoming far too sloppy to have rhythm; you slow, unable to keep your pace. “Oh, baby,” he mutters. “Do you need me to finish you off?”

“Please,” you whine, clinging to Seunghyun as you struggle to keep grinding on him. You hear a chuckle rumble in his chest — he’s always amused by the way you beg for him.

“Listen to you,” he whispers. “Always so good for me...no matter what. My good girl.”

Without warning, Seunghyun pushes you from his lap so you are on your back on the sofa. He quickly moves to kneel on the floor between your legs, keeping eye contact with you as he presses his mouth to your clit. With a sharp intake of breath, you thread your fingers through Seunghyun’s hair, keeping him close as he toys with your clit.

“Fuck,” you gasp, as Seunghyun slides two fingers inside of you. He hooks his arm under your thigh and hoists your leg over his shoulder. “I’m so close…” He hums against you, thrusting his fingers deeper and faster, his tongue relentless in its torture.

Your release hits you in a slow wave, flowing through your whole body until you can feel it in your fingertips. You don’t bother covering your mouth to silence your moans, because you know Seunghyun loves to know how good he makes you feel, and he doesn’t care who else hears it. With your hands on the back of his head, you grind against his face, his moans vibrating against you until he works out everything you have to give him.

“Jesus Christ,” you rasp, relaxing against the sofa and releasing your grip on your boyfriend. “We should really try roleplaying as strangers one day.”

“Yeah, that was hot,” Seunghyun says with a smirk, licking his lips and fingers clean. “What made you get so turned on to begin with?”

“I don’t know,” you pant. “You looked so sexy…I couldn’t help myself.” He stands to his feet again, looking down at the crotch of his pants to see the dampness that you left there. It would make you blush if you didn’t see how hard he is from what you did.

“Hmm, you definitely know how to make a mess,” he mutters. You sit up from the sofa and take hold of his hips, pulling you to stand between your thighs. Giving him a sultry look from under your eyelashes, you begin to slowly unbuckle his belt.

“Let me clean you up,” you whisper, unbuttoning his pants.

“You’re such a good girl.”

[ffsjustletmesleep]

Hi hi hi hi love ur work could u possibly write a fic in like after Alexandria era like season 11 where reader and Daryl are in an established relationship and reader has been really stressed out over something like maybe work or something for a while now and she comes home one day super stressed and Daryl who’s finally had enough of it tells her she needs to relax and blow off some steam, aka by gettin steamy 🤑🤑 I’d love to see Mr munch Daryl we all know he’s a pussy eater 🍽️

A/N: Thanks for the request :) so happy to do this for u, this is my first actual attempt at oral and writing s11 Daryl so I’m hoping this is good (and what you asked for) Enjoy! 🤍

Daryl Dixon x Reader

S11 in Alexandria

Word Count: 1k

Summary: Daryl finds a way to help you blow off some steam after a stressful day at work.

Warnings: Swearing, Oral Sex F!Recieving, mentions of blood. Minors Do Not Interact.

Living in Alexandria was a blessing in this world, being able to rest and shower, eat, and even have a family in the community without having to worry about walkers or other threats coming to harm your friends and family. You loved being there, most of the time. Work was a pain in the ass, sure you loved helping everyone, but today was miserable.

One of the groups had a run-in with a nasty group of people while they were on their way back from a supply trip. They managed to find a ton of supplies in a warehouse but ended up getting jumped. You ended up having to stitch up a kid's head and check the other for concussions.

The groan you let out as you stepped into the house made Daryl’s head perk up from the kitchen, almost mistaking you for a walker. He looked at you with a small chuckle. “What’s up with ya?” He asked as you came over to him and leaned against the counter.

Hanging your head forward, you pressed it against the cupboard with a sigh. “It was horrible, blood everywhere—literally!” You held your face and groaned once more.

Daryl let out a small snort and shook his head, putting his cup down in the sink and coming around behind you, putting his hands on your waist. “Sounds to me like ya’ need to blow off some steam, huh?” He hummed, his voice low and husky as his breath tickled your ear, pressing a kiss against your neck.

A shiver ran down your spine at the sound of his voice, biting your bottom lip at his touch. “I have to take a shower, babe… I’ve been medical all day…” you mumbled softly, leaning back into him and tilting your head, sighing as he littered your neck with light kisses.

He pulled you away from the counter and turned you around to look at you, taking in your tired, tense expression with a smile on his face. “Come on… lemme make it better...” he spoke quietly, picking you up with a soft grunt and carrying you upstairs to the bedroom.

Once he made his way upstairs, he opened the door, kicking it shut with his foot when he made it inside. He tossed you on the bed with a small ‘thump’ before climbing on top of you, pressing his lips against yours in a gentle kiss.

“Daryl…” you whined softly as you pulled away, looking up at him with a frown. “I have to shower... I’m all dirty from working,” you protested and couldn't help but giggle as he started to kiss your neck, his stubble tickling your skin slightly.

He let out a small chuckle and lifted your shirt up over your chest, kissing your sternum lightly as his hands ran over the bare skin of your waist. “Shh… don’t need no damn shower, just let me take care of ya...” he said, his lips trailing down to your stomach.

You felt the heat rushing to your face as you watched his head get lower and lower. Feeling as his hands skillfully unbuttoned your pants and pulled them down your legs, along with your underwear. Pushing your thighs apart and settling himself in between them.

“So good f’me..” He praised, rubbing your hip and kissing your thighs, sucking small marks on the skin as he made his way to your center. The way his hands caressed your skin made you feel hot, the rough pads of his skin against your soft.

The moment his lips met with your heat, you melted, laying your head back against the pillow, threading your fingers through his hair and tugging on it as you felt his tongue against you. He let out a soft groan as he tasted you on his tongue, pressing his face closer and lapping at your folds like he was starving.

Your hands grasped his hair tightly as you let out a soft whine, gasping out and moaning softly as his tongue traced circles around your clit before he sucked on it gently, making your back arch up off the bed slightly. “Oh—Daryl...!” You moaned, throwing your head back against the pillow.

His hands grasped your thighs tightly as he moaned against you, pressing his tongue into you and looking up at you through his hair, watching you squirm and moan as he moved his thumb over your clit, rubbing it in gentle circles.

The heat in your stomach began to build as your release grew closer, feeling your stomach tighten and your body tense at the way his tongue moved inside of you and his nose bumped against your clit as he rubbed it.

You felt your release wash over you and threw your head back, moaning out his name and tugging on his hair as your thighs squeezed his head. He slowed his thumb and let out a groan as you came on his tongue, lapping up your juices and helping you through your high before he slowly pulled away, licking his lips and hovering over you.

“Fuck, Daryl... didn’t even give me a minute to think...” you whined as you looked at him, panting softly. He smiled and pressed a kiss to your neck as he lay down next to you, pulling one of his dirty shirts from the basket by the bed and cleaning you up, before putting your underwear back on you.

“M’sorry sweetheart, I wanted to make you feel better...” he chuckled. You giggled and shook your head at him before wrapping your arms around him, laying your head on his arm. “It’s okay... It was amazing; I’m feeling a lot better after that…” you sighed, closing your eyes and pressing your face against him.

He wrapped his arms around you and lay on his back, pulling you into his chest and kissing your head with a soft sigh. “M’ glad I could help ya Sweetheart...” He whispered and reached over the nightstand, flicking off the light and lying back down.

(Im not great at ending fics— I had no idea what to write 😭 I apologize)

[cuteandhughesy]

Could you do a Matt Rempe fic where the reader basically just climbs him like a tree so she can look him in the eye? Full koala so she can examine his face (maybe he got his tin the face, maybe the reader just wanted to take a closer look at him).

here’s a lil blurb for this bc it’s too cute to not share - xo jules

“matt,” you call your boyfriends name lightly, knife slicing through one of the freshly peeled carports for some chicken soup—the perfect meal for a cold new york afternoon. “can you come here for a minute?”

soon after you hear matt’s socked feet padding down the small hallway of your apartment, and he rounds into the kitchen knook with a small grin on his face. the rangers have an off day, which means you get the entire day with your boyfriend—which between games and him getting sent down to the wolfpack, seems like a rarity.

he walks up behind you, wrapping his strong forearm around your waist and tugging you back so you’re flush with his stomach. matt had been thumbing through emails on your bed when you called for him, and spending time with you always beats reading ridiculous bills and sorting through work stuff.

“what’s up?” he questions, fingers flexing on your waist.

you tilt your head back, so far back it feels like your neck is breaking—because even though you’re not that short, matt is that tall. which don’t get me wrong, you love his height. it’s sexy and makes you feel constantly safe and secure, but when it comes to things like looking him in the eye…his height drives you bonkers.

“can you grab the container of seasoning from the top shelf? my brother put it up there when he was here last, and now I can’t reach it.” you ask, looking away from your boyfriend in favour of cubing the carrot sticks. “we can’t have soup without flavour. then it’s just vegetable water.”

the face you pull has matt barking a laugh, already releasing his hold on you to grab the tupperware container you shove full with packets of seasoning. he gently places it beside your cutting board, “you’re right—that’s a disgrace.”

you him in agreement, scooping the carrots into you palms before adding them to your oversized pot—sitting ready on the stove top. you tune back around and begin stifling through the seasonings. “oregano, coriander, garlic powder, dried parsley…” you trail off, eyes flickering up to matt’s. “what do you want in there?”

he hums in tough, big arm crossing over his insanely broad chest as his head tilts back. you fight the urge to groan, wanting nothing more than to see his face. you drop the packets, and before you can think logically you begin hiking up your boyfriend.

matt’s eyes widen, shooting down as you wrap your arms around his neck, using the leverage to haul your legs around his hips. instinctively his hands come to rest on your ass, keeping you tight against his torso.

you blink like nothing has changed in the past thirty seconds. you’re so close that your noses brush, and he can smell your floral perfume like you’ve just put it on. matt quirks an eyebrow, a smirk sliding up his mouth. “you okay babe?”

nodding, your thighs clench around his body. “yeah, just wanted to see your face better.”

he nods absentmindedly, eyes flickering down to your soft lips like he can’t help himself—and soon enough he’s leaning in, pressing a gentle kiss to your mouth.

after that day it seems like you’d be climbing in more often that not—not that matt’s complaining by any means. he can’t help but grow a little giddy when he gets cut in the face or has bags under his eyes, because matt knows you’ll be climbing up his large body to get a closer look…and who is he to deny you of that?

—

(not edited)

[lvrgirl-inc]

Breakfast

&

୨ৎ Head ୨ৎ

pair. Gamer Husband!Satoru x m!reader

wc. 2.6k

genres. House husband, comfort(?), eating “motivation”, edging, whiny reader + Toru, “thank you for the meal” backshots, domestic, soft—mostly, finale. [I suggest a slight content warning given the eating discussion, though it’s not dark, I did want to give the disclaimer..!]

Gamer Husband!Satoru mlist

𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵

Gamer Husband!Satoru who’s missed breakfast more times than you can count. Constantly with the, “I’ll make some cereal later”, “It’s not that late yet—in a bit, babe.” that would earn a lecture of varying lengths from you each time.

Gamer Husband!Satoru who you’d actually had to sit down and talk to about this bad habit of skipping meals. Hand over his in a sit-down at the dinner table after you’d gotten home from work late one evening. 

Gamer Husband!Satoru who was simply over the moon for your return—treating every “Honey, I’m home” as if you’d just come back from war. Only to find out that he was, in fact, not getting that oh-so syrupy love talk that you shower him….but another lecture on his worrying eating habits.

Gamer Husband!Satoru who—if he had ears and tail—almost looked like a kicked puppy when you’d expressed your concerns. A gentle, “I know you tend to…forget. But, my love, the gas station is not a valuable source of nutrients.” Damn. Following that, he might as well have whined

Gamer Husband!Satoru who just might’ve if it weren’t for the security of your fingers giving his hand a gentle squeeze. The look of endearment he gave you wasn’t even voluntary but instinctual for whenever he caught you sticking up for him—even if it was often against his own uprooting of his complete success.

Gamer Husband!Satoru who looks at you through those snowy lashes, batting them twice, thrice in your direction before officially meeting your firm gaze. He knows you’re serious about this and that only spurs on a stronger protrusion of his bottom lip. A mumbled, “You..usually do all the cooking. I don’t really…like eating without you,” and you knew it was true. “Makes the food taste bland, every chew seems to take forever and on because all I can think about is…how you’re not there.”

Gamer Husband!Satoru who you think might have heard the way your heart skipped a beat at those honest words. Sure, you two were only talking about eating properly and not stocking up on too many empty calories, but with how he phrased it—the tender on his slight lilt as he peered in a bit closer to you—it felt like..everything.

Gamer Husband!Satoru who took his hand up from both of yours, brushing back the tresses to settle behind your ear, letting his fingers linger there before sliding them along the crest of your jaw. A dreamy breath resting on his lips as he tried his best not to just stare at you for God knows how long. It was something he did often—just observing you in complete silence. Oh, you’re inquiring the reason? 

Because your presence was loud enough to him.

Gamer Husband!Satoru who has you flush-faced and swallowing down nervously amid a reluctant, faint smile. “.. ‘Toru…you’re not focused…” you rationalized, even as your eyes were unable to keep off his. 

Gamer Husband!Satoru who gives you the doofiest quirk of his mouth corner, smiling at the obvious effect he was already having on you. “Me? Not focused? Come onnn, that doesn’t even sound like me…” he’d purr, leaning in to steal a kiss, only for his lips to make contact with the palm of your hand instead. Did he really think he was getting off that easy?

Gamer Husband!Satoru who you’d had to eventually have another, deeper conversation about the matter—or went over negations more like—winding up with the following arrangement: If he could manage to fill in the rest of the meals for himself, you’d make a point to share at least one with him.

Gamer Husband!Satoru whose idea of compromise concluded with a morning that you’d never soon forget—nor really wanted to. Sunlight dashing the bed as you lazily and groggily woke up beside your husband for once, having convinced him to sleep in with you since he typically ran off..what? Four hours? Yeah. 

  Gamer Husband!Satoru whose fluffy platinum white ruffles were always fun to scan your fingers through in such peaceful scenery. Eventually, you got up, letting your deep sleeping beauty catch an hour or two. 

Gamer Husband!Satoru who didn’t stir even as you climbed out of bed, stretching your limbs and yawning quietly before rubbing tired eyes on the way to the bathroom. From there, doing the basic cleaning routine, you made your way to the kitchen. It wouldn’t be too bad to have your first day of the deal be breakfast. 

Gamer Husband!Satoru who you eventually decided would benefit from it anyhow and then went on to unpack varying ingredients out of the fridge to prep a perfect meal to start off the day. 

Gamer Husband!Satoru who always goes for sweets. Call it fast metabolism, workout routine or what—that man could eat. So, you, as his all-knowing spouse went ahead to make him a guilty pleasure of puffy pancakes, sidelined by a tropical fruit assortment, diced nicely. Humming sleepily and waking up as you went, you prepared that, along with a small smoothie from whatever didn’t make it into the mix.

Gamer Husband!Satoru who you, after a while, assumed would be up since it’d been a tad since you started the cooking process. Easily assembling the plate that you two were inevitably going to share and deftly cleaning up behind yourself as quietly as possible just to be sure that you wouldn’t wake him if he was still asleep.

Gamer Husband!Satoru who actually had just been joining consciousness when you walked in, feeling around the empty space beside him before seeing your face and caught the aroma wafting off the tray. “You..spoil me too much..” a half-awake Satoru mumbled in that slight snag that came with his morning voice.

Gamer Husband!Satoru who definitely didn’t expect this when you’d replied to that with, “Let me spoil you some more, then.” This, referring to being leaned up on the headboard, shakily holding his fork up to his mouth, sliding the plump, syrup-coated batter off the metal with his teeth. All the while with you just underneath the sheets with a mouth stuffed full of him.

Gamer Husband!Satoru who can feel how your lips stretch around his shaft, working hard to keep up the pace that was making that delicious, wet, slurping along his throbbing shaft. Making breathy moans fall from his lips in between his chewing. “F-fuck, babe..~”

Gamer Husband!Satoru whose shirt you pushed your fingers under, splaying them out across the smooth expanse. You could feel how his stomach was fluttering in time with how he throbbed on your tongue. Mumbled carefully, pulling your hair back a bit to look up at him—cheeks still stuffed full of him in the most erotic sight he’d ever seen, “Don’t talk with your mouth full, ‘Toru..~”

Gamer Husband!Satoru who can’t do anything but whine at your muffled gibe, mostly because your moans and voice created such sweet vibrations around his already-dripping cockhead from the back of your throat. He knows you were quite literally being a hypocrite, seeing as. Not a complaint fell though. All he could do is grip the sheets that lay beside him, trying his best to stay focused on the delectable meal and not the delicious feeling of your tongue becoming reacquainted with the powerful throb that now distracted him as he picked at his food some more. Eating was clearly the last thing on his mind.

Gamer Husband!Satoru who gets a bit too close, a bit too fast. Easily leaving you to pull off with a wet pop! When you felt the telltale way his balls started to draw up close to his body, how the stream of pre had only gotten more coarse when you started to deepthroat him properly. Poor thing, he was just simply shivering from your ministrations, obviously pouting strongly when the sensation had been lost just as he was inching his way closer to an orgasm. Only for you to take his cock up into your hand, giving it lazy strokes that were a glide, thanks to the efforts of your trachea. It was so nasty. So loud. Sticky shluck, shluck, over and over as the ring you’d created with your index and thumb ran from his tip to base in that agonizingly slow pace. “Ah, ahh. Come on, ‘Toruuu..y’know you’ve gotta finish your food before you can try to get any type of reward.”

Gamer Husband!Satoru who noted your emphasis on ‘any’ from a mile away. It was a double-edged sword, referring to the actual dessert that you’d had made and well…being able to cum. But oh when he rushed to finish, swallow down the last bite and lick the plate clean—that, he held your eye contact for—all while your fingers kneaded his swollen sac in one hand and the other was still pumping in earnest as you watched him. Though, maybe you should’ve been working more on getting him to calm down from his previous denial because boy did the payback hit different when he finally set the dish down on the sheets and proudly announced, “Alll donee.”

Gamer Husband!Satoru who decided to thank you for the meal in one of the best ways he knew how—gifting you with a niiice arch in your spine, pillow prince treatment and the good length of his dick sunk into your tight heat as you needlessly poured out his name over and over. Oh my, if you had predicted he’d treat it this way, you probably would have just microwaved a corndog or something. Though, you had much bigger ‘n better things on your mind right now. 

Gamer Husband!Satoru who felt like he got bigger every time you fucked him. He didn’t but damn. With your own recoil and how you were being fucked stupid just from him leaning back a bit and pulling you back to meet his hips each time. Slick of lube dripping and making a spread between the fronts of his meaty thighs and the backs of yours, you didn’t even know what to do with yourself. And especially not when he was leaning down to press his sweaty chest against the similarity of your back.

Gamer Husband!Satoru who changed up his thrusts for a bit, driving you wild as a hand came up from your navel, past your chest and up to your throat—not choking, no, just holding you there and lifting your face up out of the silk pillowcases. Moaning into your ear, rutting into you with a deeeep grind against your prostate that had you gritting your teeth and shuddering whenever he hit it just right. 

Gamer Husband!Satoru who’s never been afraid to show his gratitude nor his submissive side. Borderline fighting for his breath as his cock took its sweet time mapping out your ridged insides in a way that had you breathless, scratching down at sheets with broken pitches. He was just so grateful for you. For making him food, for motivating him to eat properly, for taking him sooo well. Oh, he just simply adored you. 

Gamer Husband!Satoru who hasn’t shied away from talking you through it, licking a stripe up the column of your neck as he continued that sensual grind that had you seeing stars in no time. “Haah, thas’ it..uhuuuh..f-fuck, mhn..” groaned out between his thrusts in an effort to encourage you the best that he could. “My sweet fuckin’ hubby, makin’ me such..mmf- goood food to wake up, lettin’ me fuck this even sweeter ass..fuck…” the last lament before he was speeding up his pace again.

Gamer Husband!Satoru whose balls slapped up against your taint at a quicker pace as he worked you both toward climax. “T-there you go, yeahhh, yeahh, that’s the spot? Mhm? Oh, I knoww, baby..” he’d coo along, feeling how you tightened up noticeably around his cock when the crown of it swiveled its way right into your sweet spot repetitively, seemingly aiming for it. 

Gamer Husband!Satoru who most likely doesn’t even know the effect that he has on you, how he made your knees buckle and your jaw go slack, teetering on the edge of a shaking orgasm as you let out little “Right there”s and “I’m so close, so close”s. That was all the motivation that he really needed, that he’d ever really need from you to do anything. But right now, he took it as a sign to use his free hand to wrap around your underside, stroking your neglected, weeping cock in time with his thrusts that were becoming erratic and uncoordinated as his own release fast-approached.

Gamer Husband!Satoru who always likes finishing inside and who knows you love it just as much as him. Something about marking you up from the inside out that got him going real bad. So he made no effort to try and pull out, driving it home as he was ravaging your narrow channel with wild abandon, pounding you straight into the mattress and into climax. “.. ‘Toruuu, fuckin’ guh-! Cumming, ‘m fuckin’...mhn..!” weakly mewled out as your body finally tensed up, a few full-body quakes before you were finally spilling your load out over the sheets without a care in the world for the mess that you would have to clean up afterward.

Gamer Husband!Satoru who took the feeling of your cum spurting from your swollen tip as a sign that he could follow suit, going as far as to push you from a doggy position and down into a full prone bone. Completely seating himself in your boycunt as he let himself reach that pinnacle of pleasure inside.

Gamer Husband!Satoru who ground his pelvis down into you, furthering the intensity of your own ongoing climax as your fingers got a claw on the sheets beside your head. There would’ve been cartoonish swirls in your eyes had this not been your reality, so instead, they fell at a cross before rolling up and to a close.

Gamer Husband!Satoru who’s just so generously dumping ounce after ounce of his foamy strands into you, hips stuttering as he leaned his head back, letting the relief fully wash over him.

Gamer Husband!Satoru who got to listen to your needy whining come up as breathless and airy successions that gradually calmed down. Then came his least and most favorite part about your coupling—pulling out. Softened cock sliding inch by inch out of your sore hole before finally breaking away, dragging a connecting string of cum along with.

Gamer Husband!Satoru who’s just marveling at you, to which you pipe up. “Are we gonna..haah…do this every time..?” somewhere between a genuine question and a rhetorical at the same time.

Gamer Husband!Satoru who cocked his head off to the side, casting you an impish grin as he came to lay down next to you. Leaning in to kiss up on your neck, shoulders, all the way down your arm and stopping at your hand. More specifically, your ring. Placing rows of the tender contacts to the precious stone that adorned your finger.

Gamer Husband!Satoru who finally gives up an answer, “If anything, this arrangement would be sooo much better if we ate afterward. How do you feel about me cooking dinner tomorrow night?” a hopeful smile accompanying the innuendo that was too tempting to let up.

Gamer Husband!Satoru who winds up laughing in a small victory upon your murmured agreement, tugging you into his arms and peppering your face with even more kisses.

A little sweet tooth pampering got you far. Having a husband who would die for you twice over doesn’t hurt, either. At least you know he won’t be skipping any meals after this…

𓏵𓏵𓏵𓏵

A/N: Hiya, this has been pretty fun to debut with, lol. Satoru is a personal favorite, obvi but I’m so dearly excited for the next after a hiatus. Head over to this guy @lvrboy-inc , heard he’s crawling out from the ground to deliver some more fetching works while I take to B.T.S. ‘Till next time~

[simpfordin]

W A V E S

thanos (choi su-bong) x fem!reader [au: based on the film waves]

wc: 3.4k+

summary: you and your boyfriend were madly in love, spending nearly every moment together. the two of you each had your own big plans post graduation. unfortunately, an unexpected pregnancy leads to the demise of the relationship.

warnings: TWTW teen pregnancy, toxic relationship, very angsty, subong is mean/ooc [not rlly a warning but i'm a chronic run-on sentence gal and i'm tired of reading this so i apoligize for grammar/spelling mistakes]

disclaimer: by no means am i promoting any of the themes in this story.

the sun had set below the horizon, casting the sky into a beautiful sea of deep blues and purples. some light was left, though, enough for you to see every detail of the man that lay next to you on the beach towel. his focus was on the sky as stars gradually appeared. the moment was so tranquil, from the light breeze in the air to the sounds of waves crashing in the distance, and the salty smell of the water blown in your direction. moments like these made life feel perfect.

“i didn’t want to say anything, babe,” you broke the silence, “and i love you dearly, i hope you know that.”

su-bong raised a brow, sensing the tease in your voice. he turned his head to face you, noticing how you tried to hide your smile.

“its just that,” you giggled, “your hair really reminds me of thanos. you know, that purple dude in the marvel movies?”

he watched as you cracked yourself up. if anyone else had told him that, su-bong would not find it amusing at all. the soft spot he had for you, though, allowed you to get away with the comment. in fact, he did find it somewhat comical.

suddenly, he interrupted your laughing by placing his hands on your hips, and swiftly maneuvered your body so that it lay on top of him. he placed his hand on the back of your head, pulling your lips to his. the two of you smiled into the kiss, ignoring the rest of the world. ‘moments like these,’ he thought to himself, ‘make this life feel perfect.’

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

we need to talk, plz text me when you can.

you tossed your phone to the opposite side of your bed where you currently sat, a wave of anxiety rushing over your frame. it was almost as if every single cell in your body let out a small shock starting from the crown of your head, and ending in the tips of your toes.

the two pregnancy tests sat side by side in your brightly lit bathroom. after seeing the word ‘positive’ on the first test, you had rushed straight back to the convenience store, assuming, no, praying that it was a mistake. less than half an hour later, though, your fear was confirmed.

anguish and anxiety riddled your bones; confusion lay dormant in your soul. 'how could this be?' you wondered in a panic. your mind immediately began to race, as if it hadn't been before, and thoughts about the future quickly crept in.

in a matter of months, you would be graduating from the 12th grade, and you were set to begin your first semester at a prestigious university nearby. what's more is that the university offered a select number of students generous scholarships based on merit and academic excellence, with you being a lucky recipient. your parents bragged for months, and still continue to do so; nearly everyone you know, even acquaintances, were aware of the achievement. what would happen if all of the sudden you declined to attend school? how, then, would everyone you know view you? or, what if you attended school whilst pregnant? what kind of reputation would this build? ‘they're going to think i'm some kind of whore,’ you catastrophized, the heat of the moment only intensifying the irrationality of the ideas.

furthermore, your boyfriend of one year, su-bong, had been ambitiously planning and curating a career in music longer than the two of you had been dating. su-bong, fortunately, found connections within the industry through social media and friends of friends of friends. he planned to begin his journey as a rapper as soon as he graduated. he would be incredibly busy, and you knew this. he would hardly have time for your relationship, let alone a child.

a ding from your phone pulled you from your thoughts back into reality. the screen lit up the opposite side of the bed, and you couldn’t make out anything other than your boyfriend’s contact name and photo on the lock screen.

'inhale, 2, 3, 4, hold... exhale 5, 6, 7, 8,' you repeated in your mind over and over, hoping that the breathing exercise would provide even an ounce of comfort, ‘you can do this, you can do this, you can do this.' the phone had shut off due to inactivity by the time you reached for it, only to light up again as you reluctantly opened his message.

you good ma? the text read.

though you could tell he meant no harm, the lack of seriousness in his tone only added to your anxiety, practically undoing the breathing exercises you practiced before. it took a few moments to build up your once more and finally respond.

~

“thats sick, bro,” su-bong spoke into the mic, conversing with his friend nam-gyu over discord, “yo, i need back up over here.”

su-bong had a habit of playing video games rather than focusing on his studies. ‘why does it matter anyways? i don’t plan on going to college,’ he would think. whenever he wasn’t with you (you were most always his first option after school), he would be on the game, either alone or with his friend. su-bong did, also, have a habit of keeping his phone close by, should you ask him to hang out or face time. it was nothing out of the ordinary when the screen lit up displaying your contact name. he glanced at his phone expecting to see, can we call? or want to go get ice cream? something sweet and innocent. the message, however, caused his heart to drop.

we need to talk, plz text me when you can.

su-bong absentmindedly abandoned his task in the game as his heart fell deep into his chest. he couldn't help himself, and immediately assumed the worst, ‘no way she’s about to break up with me.'

“are you lagging or something man? you’re boutta be killed!” nam-gyu’s voice rang through su-bong’s headphones, snapping su-bong back into the moment. su-bong didn't have the capacity to snap back at his friend as he usually would. instead, he spoke the first excuse that came to his mind.

“yo my wifi isn’t working, i gotta hop off."

“whatever bro, i’ll catch you later,” nam-guy answered, and su-bong didn’t stay on the call for a second more. he shedded the headphones and xbox controller from his body, and grabbed his phone already thinking of a somewhat unbothered and collected reply to send.

you good ma? su-bong finally decided on. though he held up his nonchalant persona, the message failed to reveal his concern for the situation at hand. he loved you, yet he couldn’t bare to be caught off guard; he would not allow anyone, not even you, to see him this troubled.

moments later, three dots appeared on this screen, indicating that you were actively typing a response. the dots lasted ages, he felt, or perhaps time slowed due to his anxiety. finally, a message came through.

i really need you to not get mad at me please subong

he sighed, knowing all too well what was about to happen. ‘who does she think she is breaking up with me over text?’ he thought, immediately replacing his feelings of sadness with outrage and anger. su-bong didn’t like to feel sad, and so he typically opted for harsher, more "acceptable for men" feelings. his inability to be vulnerable manifested in, almost, a superiority complex mixed with toxic masculinity ideals.

whatever, he typed angerly, your loss wom…

im pregnant.

the message appeared before he could even finish typing. he didn’t even have time to feel relief about the fact that you had not broken up with him (over text, too), as the news hit him like a truck.

~

its not that you wanted to tell him over text, in fact, you realized after the fact that it probably was a bad idea to do so… perhaps it was even disrespectful. in your delirious state, however, it seemed like the right move.

you stared at the i'm pregnant message on your screen, seeing no indication of him typing which was present moments before; it immediately stopped after you pressed send. you could hardly stay calm, especially knowing full well that he had seen the message.

you wanted to throw the phone, not to the end of the bed, but this time through the wall or out the window. your mind betrayed you; it craved a response but also begged to avoid it at all costs.

without realizing how much time had passed, you looked down at the screen, seeing that he already responded.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

it was 9:15 am on a saturday morning. su-bong pulled up and parked his car outside of your home, sending a quick message to let you know he had arrived.

you sat looking at yourself in the vanity mirror in your bedroom. a hand rested on your stomach, the supposed home of the child that had yet to develop. your emotions ran rampant the past week, and at this point you felt numb. though you felt you should be emotional, perhaps even crying, your body would not let you.

su-bong and you had come to the conclusion that termination would be the best option as you both had so much ahead, and since you both were far too young to be parents, let alone good parents.

your phone screen illuminated showing a message from su-bong. without even checking, you sprung into action. 'its time,' your mind thought as you pulled a crewneck (which previously belonged to him) over your frame, then grabbing your tote bag before making your way to his car.

su-bong picked up his head at the sound of the passenger side door opening, revealing you. he couldn’t bring himself to smile, and nor could you; he instead decided to place a light kiss on your cheek once you were seated, and he rested his hand on your thigh as he began to drive.

9:23 the clock read. you glanced out the window, remaining silent just as he did. the world around you seemed so normal; people walking in the neighborhoods, cars driving down the road, birds singing and flying in the sky. everything went on as normal despite your current predicament. the world had no idea what you were going through. it was painful in a sense, yet also beautiful how life could go on even in the midst of hardship.

a light squeeze on your thigh brought you back to reality. you turned to glance at the clock which now read 9:39. su-bong slowed down and turned into the parking lot of the clinic. it was hard to miss the small group of protesters on the sidewalk, attempting to dissuade individuals from stepping foot into the building. they sent glares you and su-bong’s way, intensifying your anxiety and bringing on a feeling of guilt.

as if su-bong could sense your unease, he spoke, “ignore them, ma.” upon parking the car, he held up his middle finger to the people that could see him, though it didn’t necessarily do much to calm you down.

once parked, su-bong reached into his pocket pulling out a disorganized wad of cash. the two of you worried about the funds needed to pay for the abortion, and came to the decision that no matter what, you would work together to cover the cost. over the past week, you collected money from your savings, as well as birthday and holiday money. you even went as far as asking your parents for some extra “gas money” to get you through the month.

he handed you the cash, which you placed in your pocket. the two of you exited the car and were immediately met with angry shouts from protesters. su-bong cursed at them, flicking them off once more, and attempted to guard your body from their view with his own.

once inside, you were immediately hit with freezing cold air and the scent of rubbing alcohol, typical of a doctors office.

the two of you made your way to the waiting area and stopped at an empty couch. “i’m going to go check in,” you said. he immediately pulled you into a tight embrace, resting his head on top of yours. he hoped that he could provide you with comfort, even if only a little.

“you can do this,” he whispered, “and i’ll be right here waiting for you.”

you wanted to sob in his arms and stay there forever, however you forced yourself into motion. taking a few deep breaths, you pulled away to look into his eyes, "i love you."

“i know,” he replied. he had never been comfortable saying the three worded phrase, which sometimes bothered you, however you know in your heart what he meant.

taking another deep breath, you pulled away completely and made your way to the receptionist. soon after, you were escorted to the back. soon the anguish will be over.

~

su-bong sat with his head in his left hand, his elbow propped on the arm of the couch. he struggled to keep his eyes open even though it had only been roughly 20 minutes since you disappeared from the lobby. he had no interest in his phone, nor the Weight Loss and PEOPLE magazines laid out on the coffee table in front of him. the televisions in the lobby displayed nothing; the room was practically silent aside from one or two conversations going on between others. very few people aside from him were in the clinic, and so he took the time to sit in solitude.

he slowly, though, began to doze off. just as he felt himself slipping into a light sleep, the door to the back burst open. you walked quickly, making a b-line straight for him. su-bong stood up, slightly startled, yet relieved to see you. the relief didn’t last very long though.

“can we go?” you asked in a hurried tone, “like, now?”

although confused, he shook his head yes, picking up his jacket from the couch, then following you as you hurried to the exit. once outside, you two were again met with shouting from the protesters.

before su-bong could retaliate, you grabbed his forearm, “please don't pay attention to them, lets just go.”

he fought against you for a moment, wanting nothing more than to approach and destroy the nagging individuals. however, he complied with your request once processing the urgency in your voice. he opened the car door for you, then quickly walked around the front, flicking the group off one last time before entering the car and driving away.

su-bong's mind wandered, though focused on driving. he felt somewhat afraid by your urgency, and also the fact that you started to sob silently. he placed his hand on your thigh just as he did on the ride before.

“so, uh, what happened in there?” he asked unsure.

“i-,” you spoke reluctantly between sobs, “i just… i couldn’t do it.”

su-bongs eyes widened and he immediately pulled his hand back to the steering wheel. “wh-what do you mean you couldn’t do it?” he stuttered, at a loss for words. he subconsciously began to speed up; he must have been going 15 miles per hour over the '25' limit at least.

“su-bong please slow down,” you petitioned in an attempt to stay calm. you could sense his negative emotions, and wanted to keep the conversation as mellow as possible.

“screw that, don’t try to change the subject, woman,” he demanded, allowing his anger to speak for him.

“don’t call me woman,” you, too, demanded, raising your voice to match his. the heat of the moment mixed with his anger caused you to lose your temper briskly, and abandon any attempts at a civil conversation, “you have no idea how i feel or how difficult it was to be in there.”

he scoffed in return. “you’ve got to be kidding me,” he spoke dismissively.

“don’t speak to me that way,” you said sternly, “its my body-“

“i get its your body-“

“and i don’t think i can do an abortion,” you cried.

su-bong shook his head in confusion, “what do you mean you don’t think you can do it? you had everything you needed back there, and we got the money to pay-“

“it’s not about the money, you don’t get it!”

“what am i not getting?” he shouted, slamming on the breaks and whipping the both of you forward. luckily, there was nobody else on the road.

“what am i not getting? huh? what, you want to be the knocked-up hoe in your college classes?” he taunted, raising his hands in confusion.

“stop yelling at me,” you begged, anxiety welling up and causing you to cry even more, "and don't you dare call me a ho-"

“you realize we’re kids ourselves, right? we shouldn’t he having a baby right now,” he interrupted, staring you dead in the eye.

“yeah well thanks for caring about what i think and feel. you’ve always been so great at that,” you scoffed, unbuckling your seatbelt and opening the car door.

“alright whatever,” he rolled his eyes, slamming his hands on the steering wheel, “walk then, bitch.”

“i was planning on it,” you sneered, slamming the door as hard as you could.

without hesitation, su-bong stomped on the gas pedal, practically leaving you in the dust. his actions caused you to let out an angry sob, yet your body began walking. you just wanted to be home.

seconds later, regret crept through su-bong's body. he realized how far you two were from your residence. as badly as he wanted to run from the situation, he realized he couldn't simply leave you, his love, alone to walk multiple blocks. he let out an angry groan, resisting the temptation to run. he changed gears, reversing swiftly back to you whilst rolling down the passenger side window simultaneously. he slowed down upon meeting you, placing his car back in drive. you, however, continued walking, attempting to pay him no mind. his anger only rose in reaction to your response; he had no desire to chase you down the block, “so you’re just gonna walk out of this car like that?”

“yeah thats exactly what i’m gonna do!” you shouted back.

“i can’t just leave you out he-“

“leave me alone.”

"listen to me-"

"LEAVE ME ALONE!" you repeated, stopping to kick dirt toward his car.

“whatever," he scoffed, "FUCK YOU!”

“FUCK YOU,” you screamed. like the last time, he speeded off, leaving you by yourself.

︶⊹︶︶୨୧︶︶⊹︶

days went by, then weeks, then months with no word from su-bong. the first few days were debilitating. aside from the fact that you were experiencing an unplanned pregnancy, the love of your life had completely abandoned you when you needed him most.

eventually after a couple of weeks, still with no word from su-bong, you decided to come clean to your parents. it took a few days to muster the courage to inform them about the pregnancy, and how you were practically deserted in the situation. initially, they were shocked and disappointed not only in you, but also in su-bong for abandoning you. despite the pain it caused you, you understood. this was not part of the plan.

after the initial shock wore off, your parents showed compassion and sympathy for you, their dear daughter. they vowed to not only help you in any and every way, but also to be present in the situation. of course, their decision to do so provided you with a sense of comfort. however, the pain of losing su-bong still lingered in your mind.

~

two months later you stood adorned in your cap and gown. the line of back stage was long, yet you couldn't help yourself from searching for him in the sea of students. it was odd how he was a stranger to you now; so much time spent together all but flushed away.

su-bong's name was called far before yours, and you watched as he walked across the stage, posing for a photo with the principal. anxiety rushed through you; merely seeing him caused anguish to bubble and brew within you. your gaze didn't leave his body as he step down from the stage, oblivious to your intense observance.

you knew in your heart that it would be the last time you would see him. you knew it to be a fact especially in the weeks leading up to the ceremony. it had finally hit you, though, on this day, in this moment.

and so it was.

[maaaariii]

'I carry.'

overview ig: you accidentally find hanmas gun oopsies.(kinda 18+ if u squint)

Hanmas lifestyle was never a complete mystery to you.

Gambling and combat fighting soon turned into money laundering, expensive cars and bougie meeting rooms. And while you know its not the best thing in the world- and certainly not the safest, you know him. So you choose to stay. Thats why its almost 2 am and youre sat at tipsy (probably drunk, possibly wasted-who knows how much he drank while you were in the bathroom) shuji's side on his fancy ass couch. Looking around the lavish drawing room youre in- its hard to believe it all belongs to him.Not in a mean way- Hes a messy guy, leaving his shit everywhere and stuff. He just didnt seem like the type of guy to want such materialistic things- just a bit of fun.

Anyways rant over, youre brought back to reality as he tugs on your wrist, bringing your attention onto him- just how he likes. 'cmere'

he grunts ,as he slides his hand behind your neck-not quite fervorous yet, but hes getting there fast at this rate. You chuckle at his dizzy state, pushing a long bleached strand of hair out of his face. 'slow down, if you move too fast youll faint or something y'know..' you joke- he doesnt let you tease him when hes sober. He grunts in annoyance.

'Faint?? girl i only took like 2 shots-' He cuts himself off, pulling you forward so fast that you have to steady yourself with your hands on his thighs so you don't topple over. He presses his lips to yours, quickly prying your mouth open with his tongue as his arm slides down to your back, right over your ass- holding you in place. After a few moments his breathing deepens and you pull away the tiniest bit, ghosting his lips and pulling back every time he gets closer. You cant help but chuckle as he continues his attempts for kisses like a thirsty dog.

'stop it...' he mutters, digging his fingers into your waist which only makes you squirm more. You chuckle and maintain about an inch distance between your lips and his. Staring into his golden eyes, hanma pants slightly- years of cigarettes seem to be catching up with him. Hes only 24. You hold his cheek in your palm, the rugged unmoisturised (ew) skin is warm and slightly clammy from the inevitable asian flush he gets from large amounts of alcohol. One peck onto his lips, followed by another as you slide your hand onto his shoulder

'cmon..do it like you mean it...' he mutters in annoyance. 'i do mean it you ass.'

He scowls at you half playfully.

'Dont feel like it....kiss me harder or you dont love me anymore.' He tries to hide the dumb smirk on his lips. 'im not feeling the love aura vibe thingy tonight babe-' he chortles and you can see the glint of pearly whites under the dim light. You roll your eyes, hanma always makes fun of your vocabulary- he says its so 'chronically online'. Whatever.

You shake your head in mock disappointment as you slowly slide your hand down his torso- despite his shirt you can feel the groove of his abs- a satisfying feeling. He hums, tired and gruff, just needing a good nights sleep and just cant get enough of how warm he is-every inch of his skin lower and lower until..your fingertips graze something solid?..

It takes you a moment to register…there’s no way his dick is this hard…and cold? He’s in his own world, head thrown back and eyes shut..it’s not like you both had boundaries, so you lift the shirt up a little and your chest tightens just a tiny bit. A pistol. Right in the waistband of his pants. It’s black and sleek, but simultaneously old looking. A world of violence and crime is something you were introduced to by your boyfriend, but he bubble wrapped you, putting his hands over your pretty eyes so they don’t tarnish. A gun wasn’t something you’ve ever saw in real life…you reach to grab it but his head jerks up and hand grabs yours fast as hell..his instincts are sharp.

“the fuck are you doin’? Huh?” He seems more offended than angry..

“nothing..don’t yell at me..” you pull your hand away..trying to gauge if you’re disturbed or curious about the weapon as you stare back at him, mirroring his offended face.

“I ain’t yellin’-“

He has a little voice crack at the end-he shuts his mouth to avoid any more..normally you’d both laugh at his little mistakes and trip ups..but there was a slight struggle in finding the humour right now..

“why do you have that..?”

“I’m grown..why can’t I? You ain’t my mom..”

“I know but..”

He shakes his head at you, leaning back to increase the distance between you both..why was he so mad? He’s not the type to get mad over nothing, you could probably accidentally hit him with your shiny car and he’d get up just to ruffle your hair.

“Why do you think? You ain’t stupid y/n.”*

suddenly you feel more sober and real. If there wasn’t a gun between you both you’d probably take that comment as a compliment..

“…”

“Don’t look at me like that…”

for once he breaks eye contact. You never really realised how..intimidating he looked when he didn’t have a shit eating grin on his face-probably because he always had one with you. And now the little voice in his head is scolding him because you’re upset with him.

“c’mon y/n don’t cry..I thought you’d just know. I have a gun so what..” he’s almost stammering, hoping you don’t burst into tears and ask for a birkin as an apology gift (true story, you have the bag in your closet)

“I ain’t gonna use it on you…” he’s rambling now.

“it’s just for safety ‘kay? It’s a big scary world out there-“

“I’m not crying…and stop talking to me like that..” your attention is suddenly diverted to his rather..condescending tone.

He wants to roll his eyes, But he lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Just..don’t worry your pretty head okay?…’m tired let’s go to bed..”

🥲sorry guys I couldn’t be bothered to finish (I have no ideas)

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

I'll Be There, and I'll Cover You

Roy Kent x Reader

0.5k words

Warnings: Language, mentions of Roy's grandfather

“What’s this then?” Roy turned to you with a furrowed brow, gesturing towards the package on the coffee table.

You shrugged nonchalantly, barely taking your eyes off the telly. “Package for you,” you answered plainly.

Comical confusion remained on Roy’s face. “I didn’t order shit,” he huffed, finally picking up the brown box, staring at it like there was a bomb in it. He squinted at the label. “Fuck’s this return address?”

“Opening it will probably answer some of your questions,” you hummed, sipping the beer you’d opened just before Roy got home. “Just a thought.”

After shooting you a dirty look, Roy plopped down on the couch next to you, still gingerly holding the mystery box. “Has anyone ever told you it’s cute when you’re a smartass? Because it’s not that fucking cute.”

All you could do was smirk at the man you loved. “Just open the damn box, Roy.”

Despite the way he narrowed his eyes at you, Roy did as he was told. It was comical, the way he tore the box open, not at all careful the way you typically were. Honestly, the box would probably be more intact if the man had used his teeth to rip it open. His rampage paused when he glimpsed the object inside the box. He reached in and pulled it out, letting the destroyed cardboard fall to the floor.

“Blankie.”

Roy gazed down at the beige material, shaking his head as he turned it over and over in his hands. He swallowed hard, blinking rapidly. After what felt like an eternity, he finally turned to look at you, a deep frown on that handsome face.

“How the fuck-?”

“I called your mum,” you explained quickly. “She sent me every photo she could find of Blankie. I went onto this online chatroom for people who track down things like stuffed animals or childhood toys. They sent me to this eBay listing of the same blanket and…” You trailed off, trying to read that stoic expression you usually loved so much. “And if it was the wrong thing to do, please, please tell me, because it was supposed to be a nice gesture, and if it upset you at all-”

“I love it.”

You blinked at the still somber expression on his face. “You-”

He nodded, his grip on the blanket tightening. “I fucking love it," he rasped. Blanket still in hand, he leaned over to wrap his arms around you, tugging you close enough that you could feel his heartbeat against your chest. “I fucking love you.” He kissed your cheek tenderly before pulling back, allowing you to see the tears that had formed in those brown eyes. “This-” He squeezed the blanket. “-might be the most fucking amazing thing anyone has ever done for me, babe.” He shook his head with a soft chuckle. “What the fuck inspired you to do this?”

“When you told me about what happened to Blankie,” you said slowly, “you said it was the hardest thing you’d ever done.” You reached out and touched his leg gently. “Roy, you do so much for everyone. For me, for Pheebs, for your sister. Everything you do for the team. And you do it all without expecting anything in return. I just thought… you deserve this.”

The sight of Roy’s wide smile made the hours you’d spent scouring online for this exact blanket worth it. “Thank you,” he murmured, hugging the blanket close, looking like the child that had been dropped off at Sunderland all those years ago. “Thank you so fucking much, babe.”

[nanasrkives]

Navigation : midnight records! the starlight EP! haikyuu EP!

── .✦ "PERMANENT NUMBERS" — Miya Atsumu, Suna Rintarou, Sakusa Kiyoomi, Bokuto Kotarou and Oikawa Toru

In which, your boyfriend discovers your brand new tattoo! content : fluff. post timeskip. 3k words. Before reading : this was inspired by S2E1 of One Tree Hill!

── .✦ MIYA ATSUMU

It’s a lazy morning, sunlight slipping through the blinds, casting soft, golden lines across the tangled sheets. The air is quiet, filled only with the occasional rustle of fabric and the faint hum of the city outside. Atsumu’s half-awake, sprawled on his side, one arm tucked under his head, the other lazily draped across your waist.

You shift slightly, stretching as you adjust the oversized shirt you’re wearing—his shirt, actually. The hem rides up just enough, and the fabric shifts in a way that catches his attention. That’s when he sees it.

A small, sleek 13, inked in delicate black lines on the soft skin of your left ribs, just under your breast.

His breath hitches, blinking twice to make sure he’s not still half-dreaming. Then he props himself up on one elbow, squinting like he’s discovered a secret no one else knows.

“…Babe,” he murmurs, voice thick with sleep but laced with something sharper—curiosity, surprise, and just a hint of disbelief. “Is that… what I think it is?”

You freeze for a second, realizing exactly what he’s looking at. Before you can respond, his fingers are already there, tracing the ink with a feather-light touch. His thumb brushes just below the tattoo, not bold enough to press directly on it, like it’s something fragile.

“You got my number?” he says, this time with a grin creeping into his voice, playful and cocky like always. “Ya really couldn’t help yerself, huh? Had to make it official?”

You roll your eyes, trying to shrug it off. “It’s not that deep, Tsumu.”

“Oh, babe,” he chuckles, leaning in, his lips ghosting over your skin, dangerously close to the tattoo. “It’s deep enough. You’ve got me on ya forever now.”

The teasing fades into something quieter when he looks up at you, his hand resting just above the ink. There’s a softness in his gaze, the kind he rarely shows without a smirk to cover it.

“Didn’t think I could love ya more,” he whispers, pressing a kiss just beside the tattoo, “but here we are.”

For the next few days, he’s obsessed—his fingers always finding their way to that spot, brushing over it absentmindedly, like he needs to remind himself it’s real. He’ll tease you about it nonstop, but the way his eyes soften every time he catches a glimpse says more than his words ever could.

── .✦ SUNA RINTAROU

It’s a late afternoon, the sun casting a soft orange glow through the blinds. You’re in the bedroom, casually changing into more comfortable clothes after a long day. Suna’s lounging on the bed, propped up on one elbow, lazily scrolling through his phone.

You pull your shirt over your head, not even thinking about it, and as you stretch, the fabric shifts just enough to reveal a small, neat 7 inked just above your hipbone, following the curve of your waist.

You don’t notice. But Suna does.

His scrolling slows, thumb hovering over the screen. He squints slightly, eyes narrowing—not in confusion, but in that signature Suna way, like he’s silently judging the universe.

“…Is that a tattoo?” he asks flatly, his voice cutting through the quiet.

You freeze for a split second, then glance over your shoulder. His eyes are locked on your waist, a subtle glint of amusement hidden behind the usual boredom.

“Oh,” you say, tugging your shirt back down with casual indifference. “Yeah.”

He sets his phone down without looking away. “Is that… my number?”

You shrug, pretending not to care. “Maybe.”

There’s a beat of silence. Then he shifts, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and leaning forward slightly, elbows resting on his knees. His eyes are still on you—sharp, curious, but with a lazy tilt to his smirk.

“Did I miss the part where you joined my fan club?”

You roll your eyes. “Yeah. The initiation ceremony was last week. Sorry you missed it.”

He chuckles softly, standing up and crossing the room with that slow, effortless stride of his. He tugs the hem of your shirt up just an inch—not asking for permission, just doing it like it’s the most natural thing in the world. His fingers brush against your skin, tracing the edge of the ink lightly.

“Huh,” he murmurs, tilting his head. “It’s kinda cool. Looks better on you than it does on my jersey.”

You snort. “Don’t get used to the compliment.”

He smirks, leaning down to press a quick, soft kiss right above the tattoo. Then he straightens, hands slipping into his pockets like none of this fazes him at all.

“…Still weird, though,” he adds as he walks back to the bed, grabbing his phone again. “But, like… the good kind.”

And that’s the end of it. No dramatic declarations, no over-the-top reactions—just Suna being Suna. But later, when you’re both lying in bed, you catch him glancing at that spot again, his fingers lazily drifting there without a word.

Because that’s just how he is.

── .✦ SAKUSA KIYOOMI

You’re sitting on the couch, lazily flicking through your phone while Sakusa is settled nearby, his attention supposedly locked on his game. The faint clicks of buttons fill the room, punctuated by occasional bursts of commentary from the screen. But even with his focus on the match, you can feel his eyes flicker toward you every now and then—a brief glance, quick enough that anyone else would miss it.

You stretch slightly, setting your phone aside before standing to grab a drink from the kitchen. Your shirt shifts as you move, lifting just enough to expose a sliver of skin—and with it, the small, black 15 tattooed on your lower back.

You don’t think twice about it.

But Sakusa does.

His gaze snaps to it, sharp and immediate, though the motion is subtle—so subtle you might’ve missed it if you hadn’t turned around just in time to catch the flicker of surprise in his dark eyes. He quickly shifts his attention back to the screen, pretending nothing happened, but there’s a tension in the way his fingers tighten slightly around the controller.

“…That’s my number,” he says after a beat, his tone flat, almost indifferent. But his voice is quieter than usual, and when you glance back, his expression isn’t as composed as he wants it to be. His eyes are still lingering, dark and curious, betraying the calm façade.

You raise an eyebrow, playing it cool. “Yeah. It is.”

You expect a sarcastic remark, maybe a disinterested shrug—typical Sakusa responses. But none of that comes.

Instead, he sets his controller down slowly, almost too carefully, and stands. There’s a brief pause, like he’s second-guessing himself, then he crosses the room in a few quiet steps. He stops just behind you, the warmth of his presence making your skin prickle. Without saying a word, his hand lifts, fingers hesitating for the briefest moment before lightly pressing against the ink.

His touch is feather-light, almost like he’s afraid of breaking something fragile.

“I didn’t think you’d do something like that,” he murmurs, his voice lower now, quieter, as if admitting it out loud makes it more real. His fingertips trace the edges of the tattoo slowly, the warmth of his skin seeping into yours.

You glance over your shoulder, catching the faintest pink flush dusting his cheeks, though he refuses to meet your gaze. His eyes stay locked on the tattoo, his expression unreadable—but there’s something softer there, something unspoken.

“But…” He clears his throat softly, fingers twitching slightly as he lets his hand fall back to his side. “I’m glad you did.”

Without waiting for a response, he turns away, walking back to the couch as if nothing happened. But his movements aren’t as fluid as before—there’s a stiffness in his posture, like he’s trying too hard to be nonchalant.

Later that night, when the game is long forgotten and you’re both lounging on the couch, your legs stretched out across his lap, he casually brushes his hand along your lower back. His fingers drift lazily, almost absentmindedly, until they find their way back to the tattoo.

This time, he doesn’t pull away.

His fingertips linger, tracing slow, gentle circles over the ink, as if memorizing it by touch. His gaze stays fixed on the TV, but his voice comes quietly, softer than before:

“…I like it.”

You don’t respond—not with words, anyway. But the warmth blooming in your chest says enough.

── .✦ BOKUTO KOTAROU

The apartment is filled with the comforting hum of everyday life—music playing softly in the background, the faint clatter of dishes as Bokuto rummages through the kitchen, humming along with the beat. His energy is infectious, even in the simplest moments, like he can’t help but pour all of himself into everything he does.

You’re getting ready for bed, standing in front of the mirror, changing into a tank top when your shirt lifts, revealing the small, bold 12 inked along your ribcage, just beneath the curve of your sports bra. It’s simple, black ink, but striking against your skin.

You don’t think much of it.

But Bokuto sees it.

He freezes mid-step, a glass of water in his hand, eyes wide like he’s just spotted something unbelievable. There’s a beat of complete silence—rare for him—before he blurts out, voice loud and filled with awe:

“HEY—WAIT! IS THAT A TATTOO?!”

You nearly jump out of your skin, spinning around to find him staring, eyes locked onto your side like it’s the most fascinating thing he’s ever seen.

You blink. “Uh… yeah?”

He rushes over in record time, completely forgetting about the glass in his hand, which sloshes water onto the floor as he sets it down hastily. His eyes are practically sparkling, and without hesitation, he lifts the hem of your tank top slightly—not roughly, just eager, his fingers warm against your skin.

“That’s a 12!” he exclaims, his grin stretching wide, full of excitement. “THAT’S MY NUMBER!”

You laugh, trying to tug your shirt back down, but he gently bats your hand away, still marveling at the tattoo like it’s the most incredible thing he’s ever seen.

“When did you get this?!” he asks, eyes flicking between your face and the ink.

“A while ago,” you say, amused by his reaction. “I just… didn’t mention it.”

His mouth drops open, completely scandalized. “YOU DIDN’T MENTION IT?! This is like—like—MONUMENTAL! This is LIFE-CHANGING INFORMATION!”

You roll your eyes, laughing. “It’s just a tattoo, Bokuto.”

“JUST a tattoo?” He looks genuinely offended, placing a dramatic hand over his chest. “It’s MY NUMBER. On YOUR BODY. Forever!”

His voice echoes through the room, but there’s a warmth beneath the theatrics, something genuine in the way his fingers brush over the ink with surprising gentleness. His grin softens slightly, his loud energy settling into something quieter as his thumb traces the outline.

“…It’s really cool,” he says after a pause, his voice softer now, almost shy. “Like… really, really cool.”

You nudge him playfully. “Glad you approve.”

He laughs, bright and unrestrained, pulling you into a tight hug. “Approve? I LOVE IT!” He squeezes you like he’s trying to absorb the happiness radiating from the moment.

Later that night, when you’re both tangled up under the blankets, you feel his hand drift to your side again. This time, there’s no rush, no loud declarations—just his fingers tracing lazy patterns over the tattoo, a quiet reminder of how something so simple can mean the world to him.

── .✦ OIKAWA TORU

It’s late in the evening, and you’re curled up on the couch, flipping through your messages and checking in with friends when your phone buzzes. You glance at the screen—Oikawa.

You can’t help but smile, your fingers swiping across the screen to accept the call.

“Hey, Toru,” you greet, your voice light.

The call connects, and Oikawa’s face appears on screen. He’s lounging in his hotel room after a long day of practice, his hair a bit messy, looking cute despite himself. He flashes his signature grin, eyes sparkling with his usual mischief.

“Hey, hey, (Y/N),” he greets in that deep, drawling voice of his, his hands dramatically cupping his face. “You miss me already? You can’t get enough of me, huh?”

You roll your eyes at his usual playful antics, trying to ignore the heat in your cheeks. “Sure, Toru, that’s exactly it.”

He chuckles, clearly pleased with himself, but as you lean back into your couch, your shirt rides up slightly, exposing a small 13 inked just below your collarbone. It’s subtle, but enough to catch his eye.

His gaze snaps to the screen, his eyes widening in surprise, and he freezes mid-sentence. You notice the shift immediately.

“Wait…” he breathes, leaning forward, his face filling the screen. “What was that? I—did you—?”

You tilt your head, pretending not to notice the intensity in his eyes. “What’s up, Toru? Something on my face?”

He stares at you in disbelief, his voice rising in pitch. “Is that—Is that—MY NUMBER?!”

You try to stifle your laugh, watching his exaggerated reaction unfold. “Yup,” you say casually, leaning in just slightly to show him the tattoo more clearly. “It is.”

Oikawa’s expression goes from shock to full-on theatrical amazement. His hands fly to his face, his mouth forming a perfect “O” as he stares at you, still in disbelief.

“No way,” he says, his voice full of mock offense. “You—You got my number inked on your skin? For everyone to see? That’s so bold, (Y/N).”

You chuckle, rolling your eyes. “I thought it was a nice tribute, actually.”

“Oh, I’m sure you did.” His grin widens, mischievous and dramatic as ever. “But come on, I’m flattered. Really. I mean, I do have the best number in volleyball history, so I guess it makes sense that you’d want to carry it with you forever.”

You laugh, but there’s a small rush of warmth in your chest. Oikawa’s usual teasing tone is so playful, but there’s something softer underneath it that you can feel even through the screen.

“Seriously, though,” he continues, his voice gentler now as he lowers his hands from his face, his eyes glued to the tattoo. “I’m… I’m glad you did that. I didn’t expect it, but I’m… honored.”

You blink, surprised by the sudden shift. His gaze softens even more as he leans closer to the screen, as if trying to get a better look at the tattoo. His fingers twitch like he wants to touch it.

“It's kind of perfect,” he murmurs, almost to himself. “I’m glad you picked me.”

His usual theatrics are back in full swing as he suddenly grins wide. “So, does this mean you’re my biggest fan now? Am I your favorite player? Huh?!”

You roll your eyes at him again, but the warmth in your chest lingers. You knew Oikawa would have a big reaction, but the affection in his voice caught you by surprise.

“Okay, I think you’ve made your point,” you tease, leaning back against your pillows. “I’ll make sure to flaunt it around.”

“I’m definitely gonna show this off,” he says, his grin still wide, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “I’m putting you on display for the world. Who wouldn’t want to see my number proudly tattooed on someone as amazing as you?”

You laugh, feeling your heart beat a little faster. “You’re too much, Oikawa.”

But as the call continues, you can’t help but notice the way his fingers linger near the screen, as if he’s touching the tattoo in his own way. He may be putting on his usual show, but beneath the dramatics, there’s a sincerity that makes your heart flutter.

2025 © NANASRKIVES. / do not copy, repost, edit, plagiarize, or translate any of my works on any platforms, including ai.

TAGLIST (OPEN). / @cherrysurf @arwawawa2 @elmaa127

[rainytapestry]

⭑｡𖦹°‧ㅤㅤBLUE ㅤ— ㅤㅤjay x f.reader ㅤㅤ wc 0.7k

where your boyfriend always knows a way to make your worries melt away

★ — hurt/comfort angst estd. relation fluff academic pressure :( jay being the sweetest bf

you looked at all the books and notes spread out in front of you, and the painfully waiting cursor of the blank document, as if urging you to start the assignment. but it felt… all too much, too overwhelming for you to even think about your pending works.

and before you knew it, a tear dropped down on the page, staining your messy handwriting. good here it goes again. you were tired of feeling tensed and worried about your studies.

your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of rapid knocks and the bell. you turned to look at the time, 11pm. who could it even be at this late hour?

sighing, you got up to open the door before the person could ring the bell once more, only to be met with a very familiar face.

‘jay...? what are you doing here at this hour?’ you asked, unsure of how to approach the fact that your boyfriend was in front of your apartment at near midnight. the said boy who was standing quite tensed your doorstep, visibly frowned upon seeing you

‘yn, i was worried tensed! why did you not pick up my calls? you even left me on seen?! do you know how stressful that was? wait, are you…’ he trailed, finally getting a proper look at your face.

oh shit you had forgotten that your tears hadn't dried yet and he was met with a red and blotchy face.

jay quickly stepped into the apartment, his hands going up to your face, softly holding them.

‘what… happened?’ his voice was laced with concern. ‘uh, you were worried, for me?’ you refused to meet his eyes.

‘of course, babe! you are usually so active and present but all i have got are just a few messages and no calls, i thought you were sick!’ and his eyes held this earnest look, that almost made you want to start sobbing again.

as if sensing your emotions, he engulfed you in a hug and before you knew it, you were in his arms, tearing up yet again, your forehead resting on his shoulder.

‘i… i– i am sick, of this work and study and…’ you spoke through your tears, ‘jay, i don't think i can do this anymore, i feel so-so tired, it's…’ you could feel him rub small soothing circles on your back, nodding to your every word and never interrupting you, as if you could vent out all the frustration and pressure you had building in you.

the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, slowly calmed you down as you broke apart to look up at him, with a small pout. you mumbled a small sorry.

jay broke out in a smile, caressing your cheek, ‘it's okay, yn, you've been so strong and dedicated. it’s okay to let yourself catch a break, hm? it's okay to feel sad and unmotivated sometimes, right? because i know you can do it.’

‘b-but i’ ‘ssh, i trust you.’ and maybe that was all you needed to hear.

you could feel a small smile form on your face, heart a lot lighter than it had been a few minutes ago. and you couldn't thank jay enough for it.

‘okayyy now let's see how my girlfriend is doing, secluding herself like a saint, tell me the last time you had eaten, yn?’ he questioned you in a serious tone. you knew how serious he could get if you neglected your meals.

‘eh, yesterday i think…?’ ‘i'm pretty sure it was ramen.’ you guiltily nodded.

jay shook his head, not surprised but placed a firm kiss on your forehead. ‘ok, so, you, my girl, are going to sit down and relax while i make you something healthy and edible to eat. okay?’ he said, more like commanded.

you blushed at his actions before following him to the kitchen.

it was a common routine you both had fallen into, jay would cook, you would, well… try to assist.

and even though, jay protested about you helping him, you shrugged him off, just happy to spend time with your boyfriend.

‘and from now on, yn, please don't ghost me like this. i'm always here for you, love’, whispered close to your ears, pressing another small kiss to your cheek.

NOTES. hi i wrote this down cuz of the high level of procrastination and unproductivity ive been having despite my finals starting in a month :( it isnt the best feeling and i for anyone else who's going through the same, don't worry we'll get through this rough patch together >< tysm for reading this

div cttoㅤㅤ work belong to @ rainytapestry do not steal