#edited it slightly so I wouldn’t have to deal with that

[larkspurglove]

It’s always struck me as weird that NPMD ends with homecoming and not prom, because as a non-American, isn’t prom the quintessential American high school end trope thing??

Because of this I looked up what the actual difference is and holy shit homecoming takes place at the end of the first semester of the school year????? (Correction: turns out it’s actually around September/October which is roughly the end of the FIRST TERM)

So you’re telling me that not only do Steph, Grace and Pete have to process their trauma but also deal with SCHOOL????? FOR ANOTHER HALF A YEAR??????? AS HIGH SCHOOL SENIORS?????

[itostea]

my first & last love (gojo x reader)

satoru realizes he's in love with you after you suggest he set you up with suguru

tags: fem! reader, Gojo praises you like A LOT! slight miscommunications, childhood friends to lovers, reader gets drunk & satoru helps, he's a lovesick idiot & dramatic, both yours & his pov, gojo’s implied to be taller than reader, slightly suggestive bc it’s gojo, slight angst

word count: 11k

The first time Gojo Satoru learned true, unadulterated jealousy was on a Friday night out in his sports car–the crickets chirping to the melody of a random song. 

It was real jealousy—not just simple, petty envy. Not like the envy he felt when someone got to taste the limited edition cupcakes at the bakery before he did or the envy of studying hard and getting a lower score than someone who didn’t (which is a lie because Gojo was that very person who was effortlessly good at everything he did). 

Either way, he’s never felt the bite of jealousy, breaking the flesh as blood drips slowly, lingering as if it could never be washed away from his skin. Never felt it smother his throat with needles and leave him with a metallic taste in his mouth. That is, until today.

It was colder than usual but he still insisted on grabbing some ice-cream from the local convenience store, declaring it was his your reward for putting up with the party Sukuna hosted–the same party that ended in your dress being soaked in vomit. The atmosphere was perfect for sentiment, for talking–for confessing. 

You’re humming to the beat of the song, licking your lips clean of the ice cream you just ate. “Satoru,” you murmur his name softly, staring at him through your lashes. 

“Yeah?” His eyes drink in the sight of you: your droopy eyes from sleep, the faded lip tint on your lips, the hoodie he let you borrow that’s obviously a few sizes too big on you. There’s hardly any light coming in but he can still feel your eyes on him, the tension so thick he thinks he might suffocate from it. 

For a moment, he’s scared, fearful of what you were going to say because he knows this silence. This is the very silence that happens before someone confesses to him, the same suspense that he has to mentally prepare himself for since he knew he was going to break another heart. And he’s terrified that he might have to do it to you–his friend, his neighbor, someone who he’s known for a very long time. 

“I need to tell you something,” you start and he winces, shifting uncomfortably on the driver’s seat. 

“You do?” He mutters. You’re nervous. He can tell because he’s known you long enough to understand what you’re feeling–long enough to know that your eyes are darting from place to place, a habit of yours.

His chest squeezes when you take a deep breath just as he exhales, already making his mind to grant you a swift rejection. He hopes you can forgive him after this.

“--I like Getou and I need your help.”

“Listen, I’m sorry but I just don’t see you that way–”

He blinks, wondering if he heard you right or if he was drunk (he didn’t drink at the party because he was your ride home). “Wait what?”

It was your turn to blink now. “I like Getou and I–”

“I heard you the first time,” he cuts you off hastily, clearing his throat to play it cool. He runs a hand through his hair, grazing the side of his undercut. “Okay wow.”

Gojo mentally curses himself for not knowing what else to say other than humming pensively, busying himself by mixing the ice-cream in the tiny container. He still needs time to process, to mentally upload your words to his brain. You like Getou and not him? He pauses, repeating that thought again. 

You like Getou and not him. Part of him tells himself that this is exactly what he wanted since your friendship wouldn’t go to ruin. You managed not to catch feelings for him–managed not to fall for him like many others. Yet, he’s confused when another part of him doesn’t respond too well once he realizes that this was you he was dealing with.

“That’s not weird right?” You question, bringing your knees up to your chest and propping your chin atop of them to watch his reaction–reminding him to keep it cool. 

“Nah it’s not weird at all,” he said, not thinking straight when his next words escaped his lips. “So why Suguru?” And not me? Though, he keeps that last part to himself. 

“Well isn’t it obvious? He’s tall, handsome, and has a good personality.”

Am I not that? He asks himself, not bothered by how stuck up he may seem. “That’s not very specific from someone who likes him.”

You huff and he can tell you’re narrowing your eyes at him. “I know you don’t wanna hear me yap about the specifics, Satoru.”

“I do.” He says quickly.

You make a noise of surprise, looking interested in his sudden intrigue. “Well okay… Suguru’s very caring and attentive. Being around him makes me feel warm inside you know? I’m not sure when I started liking him but I just know that I just really want to be closer to him. And it doesn’t help that he’s just so smart and nice. And his looks are just a bonus.”

“Oh,” he utters, not even bothering to curse himself for his lack of response. He tries a weak smile. “You must really like him.”

Gojo can’t help but furrow his brows at the semi-embarrassed expression you wear—as if you were flustered at the mere thought of having a crush. “Oh, was I that obvious?” You ask, not even bothering to deny the fact that you were undoubtedly head over heels for his best friend.

Oh god, he thinks he might be sick and he doesn’t know why. 

“Are you going to help me?” Your voice cuts him out of his reverie and he’s cut back into reality–the reality being the anticipation in your eyes. Did you always look this pretty? 

Gojo nearly flinches at the thoughts that cross his mind, blaming the unprocessed shock for being the cause of these obscure ideas. He coughs. “Hold on. So you don’t like me right?”

“What? No I–” your eyes widen in understanding. “Oh so that’s what that was all about. You thought the person I liked was you! How cocky can you be to think everyone’s in love with you?”

“It’s not cocky if it’s true. I’m just really lovable y’know?”

You let out a sarcastic laugh. “That can’t be true since I’m not everyone.”

I know, he thinks to himself, staying silent as he watches you shuffle in your seat. He didn’t just dislike this idea you proposed, he hated it.  It wasn’t hard to just decline and keep it like that–let you figure your feelings on your own. 

Yet, something about the near-pleading look in your eyes made him reconsider and it filled him with an urge to smooth the wrinkles on your expression. He sighs loudly, rubbing the invisible crease in between his brows. “Well I guess you came to the right person because I’m an expert at this. 5 star ratings and all that. But what makes you think I’m going to do this for free?”

“Uh the goodness of your heart?”

“Cute,” he laughs. “But no. I want a coffee from the place everyday for a month.”

“What?! Are you insane? That means I’d have to wake up early everyday to get in line!” 

He shakes his head, waving his finger around with a disappointed expression. “A small price for love.”

“I don’t understand why you even need me for that. You can buy the whole shop yourself, ass,” you whisper the last part behind your palm, making his eyes light up in amusement.

“What was that?”

“Nothing. Actually you know what? Fine,” you huff. “You’re right. It is a small price for love. But I’m not walking back and forth around campus to deliver your coffee.” 

“I got that covered,” he grins, already coming up with a plan in his head. He likes this, the banter you two typically enjoyed. It made your duo, a duo. In a normal situation, he’d relax and continue bothering you. Still, the feeling of dread gnaws at his throat and he tries to swallow it–tries to ignore it by pretending to be the same, goofy Gojo you’re used to. And he’s starting to think it’s hard to do that when you look up at him with such genuine gratitude. 

“Satoru.”

“Hm?”

“Thank you, I mean it.”

Gojo feels that emotion again, that visceral feeling where he might go sick and vomit all over the car. “Yeah.”

He thinks he would’ve preferred if you confessed to him instead. 

Gojo wonders if stress (if you can call that) is enough to make someone wake up with a hangover the next day. He didn’t drink last night but he thinks he might have–considering the headache that was interrupting his morning. 

He’s in the middle of downing a glass of water when his phone buzzes, your name popping up as a notification. 

(Name): i’m gonna get ur coffee pls come 

Him: come ??? cum

(Name): it’s too early to be doing this 

He sees the bubbles appear before they disappear for a while, only popping up again when he’s in the middle of cracking an egg over the pan 

(Name): SATORU 

(Name): OHMYGOD SATORY SOI SOS 

Him: WHAT 

Him: HELLO??? 

(Name): GETOUS HERE OMG IM GONNA 

(Name): HE SAID HI TO ME 

(Name): WHAT DO I DO?

Gojo grips his phone a bit tighter, his tongue poking the inside of his cheek. He sighs.

Him: say hi back 

Him: and then go PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

(Name): no wtf and i meant what do i after this silly 

(Name): i don’t know what to do im literally an npc rn

(Name): jk he just said bye :(

Him: should’ve done what i told u to do

Another name pops up from the top and his eyes scan the name, his brows raising in curiosity. He huffs at the message, feeling a wave of nausea cross him.

Suguru: You’re close friends with (Name) right?

Him: yeah why 

Suguru: Nothing

It’s silent for a few seconds and Gojo’s back to eating his eggs, tempted to pop a Tylenol to ease the growing headache. Contrary to popular belief, he was against the reliance of pain-relieving meds, opting to let his body figure things out on its own. Luckily for him, having food in his stomach was enough to relieve the headache.

His mind wanders back to the night in the car where you told him to help you with your crush on his best friend–not fully coming to terms with the fact that he wished you liked him instead. Since when did he start feeling this way and why did he need another man to make him realize he liked or even loved you? The thought of anyone having you for themselves was like hearing the sound of nails against a chalkboard and he was jealous. He finally admitted it. 

Gojo Satoru wasn’t an idiot when it came to his feelings and he’d be a fool if he kept denying his undeniable irritation that came with your crush for Suguru. He places the unwashed dish atop some other bowls and utensils, reminding himself to get to that later since his priority was not to keep you waiting at the coffee shop. 

Another buzz and Satoru nearly trips over his feet at the dread he gets from seeing his best friend’s message. Are you kidding me? He thinks to himself as he reads the message again. 

Suguru: She’s cute

Yeah, he thinks he might be sick again.

Music’s playing in the background to substitute the sound of chatter that’d usually fill the room if Shoko were here. It wasn’t rare for Shoko to not flake on parties and it was even rarer for you to leave your comfort zone and go to one–especially the last one hosted by Sukuna; but this one was different. Suguru was the host and you’d be an idiot to miss it. 

You flinch at the feeling of your mascara poking the inside of your eye, cursing quietly as you take a q-tip to fix the mistake. 

The buzz of your phone makes you freeze.

Gojo: omw to ur house 

Gojo: ill be there in 10 

You: wait satoru don’t get mad but what do i wear 

Gojo: …

Gojo: YOU DIDNT LIKE THINK ABOUT THAT AN HR AGO?

You: I WANNA STAND OUT TO ATTRACT THE LOML OKAY? 

You: so i need ur opinion 

Gojo: dude

Gojo: ok

Gojo: just wear whatever u want it’ll be fine 

You: yeah but what specifically?

Gojo: not smth that makes you look like a grandma 

Gojo: like that dress u wore to the last party 

Gojo: no offense

You: but i liked that dress :(((( 

You: was it that bad?? I mean i had to throw it out bc of the vomit anyways

Gojo: it made u look like a grandma but in a good way 

You: wow okay thanks

Gojo: you looked nice 

Gojo: ANYWAYS  

Gojo: a pair of jeans 

Gojo: and that light blue long sleeve that shows ur shoulders 

You: really? 

Gojo: yeah and i’m leaving my apartment now so hurry up 

You like the message, tapping your lips to even out the lip tint before you rush to put on the shirt and jeans. Doing a quick double-take in the mirror, you spin once and prop your hands on your hips, snapping a few selfies to commemorate this day. 

You’re not sure how much time passes until you hear excessive honking outside, the sound of your phone buzzing as you see Gojo’s caller id. It’s enough to make your eyes roll as you grab your bag–leaving the door locked and the lights off. 

Gojo’s grin is boyish and teasing as his eyes scan you from top to bottom. “Oh look at you,” he coos. “You’re actually wearing what I told you to wear.”

“Well I felt like listening today,” you murmur, feeling a small ripple of embarrassment pass you. 

“Atta girl.”

“Shut up,” you mumble, feeling a grin form when you hear him chuckle. He puts his car into reverse mode, propping his arm on the top of your seat. Up close, you can get a stronger whiff of his cologne–its musk and earthiness slowing your heartbeat, calming you. Your eyes scan his outfit: a black pullover layered atop white t-shirt, paired with a pair of pants that were on the edge of being joggers and trousers.

On anyone else, the outfit wouldn’t have done them good like it did with Gojo. To your displeasure and awe, he looked effortlessly classy. And if he noticed your lingering gaze, he didn’t mention it. 

“What’s your game plan?” His voice draws you back to reality and you watch as he sets the car back into drive mode. 

“Game plan?”

“That’s right,” he glances at you, his shades sliding lower on his nose bridge. “Your plan to seduce the love of your life.”

“I’m not going to seduce him!” You gape, narrowing your eyes at his widening smile. His hand reaches down to turn the volume of the song a bit louder, stopping at the upcoming red light. 

“I’m just joking with you,” he laughs, his eyebrows furrowing slightly before that smile returns to his face, not quite meeting his eyes like it usually does. He sighs before breaking into a laugh that almost sounds bitter. “I’d pay to see that though.”

At the party, you’d imagine yourself “mingling” with the crowd and letting loose–being the life of the party. Unfortunately for you, your feet are still stuck on the kitchen floor and you’re glued to Gojo’s side. You’d like to blame it on the vomit incident from Sukuna’s party and you’re fortunate enough to not be known as the “girl that someone threw up on.” 

Either way, you weren’t especially fond of the fact that you were keeping Gojo from having fun somewhere else. Like in one of the unoccupied rooms upstairs or in the living room playing some drinking games. It’s enough to make you feel somewhat guilty and suddenly regretful that you even came to this party. 

You tap his shoulder in the kitchen, offering him a reassuring smile. “Satoru. You don’t have to stay with me. I can manage myself!” 

“That’s what you said last time,” he chuckles, rummaging through Getou’s fridge to search for something sweet, frowning when he sees traditional Japanese snacks that his grandparents would eat. “What the hell?” He murmurs to himself.

“I mean it,” you say, taking a few steps back. “You have some fun. I don’t want to bother you too much.”

“You’re not–”

“Satoru. (Name),” a velvety voice greets, all too familiar. A warmth spreads over you. “You made it.”

“Getou,” you murmured to yourself, glancing at Gojo who was already staring at you. 

For a second, you see a subtle tick in his jaw, a sight you blame on the lighting since he’s back to normal the moment he turns to face Getou. He grins that teasing smile of his. “Suguru.”

“You looking through my fridge again, Satoru?” The brunette huffs, kicking the fridge’s door shut lightly–exchanging the grin with his friend. Your heart squeezes as he casts a lingering look at you, his smile polite. “Hey (Name). Good seeing you here.”

“Huh?” You perk up. “Oh you too?”

You inwardly curse at yourself for how awkward you were, giving Gojo a scathing look as he hides his laughter behind his palm. Luckily for you, Getou’s sweet and he was also good at redirecting topics. “You want something to drink?” 

“Oh sure,” you blink, offering a thankful smile. “Thank you Getou–”

“Suguru.” 

You pause, cocking your head to the side in confusion. “Sorry?” 

“Call me Suguru,” he hands you a red, plastic cup–his smile pretty enough to make your breath hitch. “We’ve known each other long enough.”

You feel your heart race as he looks at you expectantly, as if you knew what he wanted you to do next. You fidget, suddenly more bashful at the attention he was giving you. “Thank you Suguru.”

“No problem,” he smiles and you like how he looks satisfied with you. He hands another red cup to Satoru who stood beside you, the sarcastic grin of his returning. You take a tentative sip of the booze, watching curiously as Satoru and Suguru talked amongst themselves–reconnecting despite seeing each other only a day ago. 

You observe the two of them, mapping the details of Suguru’s face before your eyes land on Satoru–suddenly aware of the fact that the boy you spent most of your youth with grew up. Sure, you know that his face attracts attention from everyone but that was a token from childhood. It just didn’t hit you that he matured, grew up to be the man most would dream of dating. The realization is to make you wonder if Gojo ever registered the fact that you were growing too.

Slowly, you take another sip of your drink, blinking slowly as the alcohol settles in your system. Gojo’s the first to notice when you stumble, how your skin seems to heat up. “Hey hey,” he holds you by the shoulders, his voice soft. And if you paid closer attention, you would’ve seen the way Getou’s brows raised at how gentle his friend was acting towards you. “You okay?” 

Amidst your drunken state, you realize that Gojo didn’t bother drinking any of the liquor in his cup during his conversation with Suguru. And Suguru. Sweet Suguru who puts the pieces together and confirms that you’re a lightweight, the guilt evident in his expression. “Oh shit. I forgot how strong this liquor is.” 

“I’m okay,” you mumble and step forward, ready to excuse yourself to the restroom. Gojo looks like he’s about to say something until a group of unfamiliar faces barge into the kitchen, their faces bright as they greet Getou and Gojo with intentions to keep them occupied. Among the chatter and crowd, you find it easy to slip away–rushing to find a restroom. 

The first one you went in was already used by a couple that you remembered mumbling apologies to. The others were either locked or used. At some point, your gut told you to go upstairs and you staggered into an unoccupied bathroom where you splashed cold water on your face–sighing at how nice it felt against your skin.

The music’s only a fraction of its noise from up here and you’re surprised that there’s not much of a group upstairs. There’s a funny feeling in your stomach as you crouch slightly, mentally cursing yourself for downing the whole cup so quickly, ruining your chances to talk with Suguru–coherently at least. Part of you wants to sulk over your spoiled opportunities but another part of you just wants to crash on the tiled floor and sleep–rest your eyes for a bit. 

You’re thankful your mind was still conscious enough to rationalize the unsanitary conditions of the bathroom floor, opting to curl up in one of the hallways instead–shivering at the feeling of cold marble beneath you. Your eyes droop, a yawn escaping you. And you’re almost certain you would’ve fallen asleep if not for the gentle shaking of your shoulders. 

“Stop,” you whine softly, your vision blurry as you catch a glimpse of hair the color of snow and a pair of worried filled blue eyes. Your protests turn quickly to bemusement. “Satoru? What are you doing here?”

You think he smiles as he kneels down on one knee to be eye level with you. “How about I get you off the ground first?” 

“I don’t wanna. Let me sleep here,” you shake your head, ignoring how your body felt warm at how softly he treated you. 

“C’mon,” he chuckles. “The ground’s dirty. Let's get you to a bed at least.”

In your drunken state, your mind still decides it favors a soft comforter over cold marble and you see his eyes soften when you go limp in his arms–letting him lift you from the ground. “Good girl.”

Your mind goes fuzzy at the sound of that and you’re not sure if it’s the alcohol or something else that makes your temperature rise. In that simple moment, you let his arms wrap around you, cradling you to his chest as he makes his way downstairs. All your thoughts stop as your eyes close, drowning the sound of the party out as you permit sleep to take over. His hands give your thighs an occasional squeeze, the gesture oddly intimate yet you don’t bother questioning it or objecting to it. 

Even with the veil of sleep dropping on your form, you still recognize Suguru’s voice as he tells Satoru to take care of you, his tone apologetic–having been the one to give you the liquor. They talk for a bit and once more, you feel the bounce of each step as he carries you out the house.

You’re barely awake when Gojo puts you in the passenger seat and you feel disappointment wash over you when he stops holding you. You’re not sure when you grabbed onto the sleeve of his shirt, your eyes half-lidded as you peered up at him. “Don’t go.”

A noise of protest escapes your lips when he removes your cold hand from his shirt gently, rather taking it in between his warmer ones. “I won’t.”

“Satoru.”

“Hm?”

“I like when you compliment me.”

“Oh yeah?” He says, laughing a bit. “It’s hard not to.”

The music and cheers in Suguru’s house are still audible even in Gojo’s car, your vision getting darker and darker with each blink. Still, you can still feel Gojo’s hand gripping yours–his thumb rubbing circles on the skin as you invite sleep back in, taking deep breaths as you breathe in his cologne. 

And as sleep came to life, you allowed the dreams to live as well. 

Was there such a thing as a relationship between dreams and memories? In moments of delirium, you can’t single out what’s real and what’s not–was it a dream or did it actually happen?

But now that days have passed and you’ve given yourself more time, you’re certain that Gojo was the one who carried you out of the house and spent his night caring for you. So you ruled out the possibility that the night was a dream, rather a memory that made you feel soft inside–grateful yet unsure. And if you wanted to ponder harder, you would’ve done so if not for the hell you were experiencing this week. 

Forgetting the content during a quiz. Getting yelled at by your boss. Having stepped in bird shit. Waking up late nearly every day because you’d forget to put your alarm on. 

If that wasn’t enough, you got in an argument with your parents over the phone. It was about something stupid and you were so frustrated that you ended up walking to some 7/11–buying yourself an ice-cream to cheer yourself up. The argument was so dumb and you weren’t even sure what you guys were even arguing about. All you knew that you should probably call them later to talk it out; you also knew that this week couldn’t get any worse.

What was Satoru doing right now? You think to yourself, pulling out your phone to check your messages–frowning when you saw none from him. Your eyes land on a message from Suguru, seeing the link he sent you to some video he found funny or intriguing. After the party, you were shocked to see an unknown number texting you, claiming it was Suguru and that Satoru gave your number to him. The day that happened, you texted him using exclamation marks and thanked him–smiling at your phone as you two exchanged witty messages with one another. 

You sighed, unlocking your phone and clicking Satoru’s contact and phoning him. You almost hang up after several rings but you hear his voice after the nth ring. “Hello?”

“Satoru?” You say, your voice cracking the second your lips part to speak. You weren’t expecting to cry and neither did Satoru–though you can hear the concern laced in his voice as he questions your whereabouts. 

“Where are you sweetheart?” You hear rustling in the background amidst his voice and your sniffles. “I’ll pick you up. Your location’s shared with me right?”

“Mhm,” you wipe your eyes, fidgeting with the hem of your hoodie. 

“Okay just stay there and don’t go anywhere. I’ll be there in a few. Don’t cry (Name).”

You think you might cry harder with how sweet his voice was. 

Satoru thinks he might be the only one who notices the rift between you and him. And he’s not sure if he’s the one causing it or if it’s you. But after that night with you (in his car again), he’s been thinking about how soft you were in his arms; how he liked the way your head drooped against his chest. Or maybe he likes you but he’s not going to think about that unless he wants another headache. 

Regardless, he finds himself looking at his phone sporadically, subconsciously eager to see your name pop up unexpectedly–eager for things to go back to normal. Even though you two still speak, he’s almost sure that he’s not imagining the awkward tension in the air. 

Was he too intrusive when he carried you out to his car? Were you mad at him because he didn’t leave Suguru and you alone in the kitchen? It was a selfish thing to do, he admits. His original idea was to leave you alone with Suguru so you’d get to chat with him–get to know him like you intended to do at the party; but seeing Suguru give you that sly smile of his was enough to make Gojo ditch his plans of playing Cupid. 

If Gojo was a good man, he’d feel happy that you were getting what you wanted since he knew you weren’t the only one interested. Like with the message Suguru sent to Satoru and how he eyed you at the party; how he called Satoru over for a bit and told him that he understood why people liked you or found you attractive; how he commented on how the shirt you wore suited you. 

No shit, I picked it, he thought to himself as he recalled that night. Satoru always knew you were beautiful and he hated that everyone else knew too. You weren’t even his yet but he didn’t want to share you–to let anyone else hold you or have you. Seeing you blush and smile shyly at his best friend made him want to puke—made him want to claw his eyes out. That should be him and god he wishes it was.

He was selfish yet he never promised to be good. Yet, this was for you. He wanted you to be happy, is what he told himself whenever he saw you and Suguru talking. 

His phone buzzes and it’s almost embarrassing how quickly he snatches it, the anticipation in his eyes fading when he sees that it’s Suguru messaging him about the party today. Satoru sighs, rubbing the spot between his brows as he leans on the kitchen counter, suddenly reminded that he planned a party at his place today. It was an impulsive decision to forget about the tension between you two and Satoru’s kinda wishing he took the time to talk it out with you rather than planning something else. 

He invited a good amount of people and was going to invite you as well to give him a reason to call you. But lucky for him, you made things easier for him by calling him. Satoru thinks it’s not healthy for his blood temperature to rise just at the sight of your name on his phone and he’s already grinning when he picks up. “Hello?”

“Satoru?” 

Oh. He pauses, his brows furrowing at how your voice cracked as you tried to hide your sniffles. His first thought was to wonder who made you sad and he thinks it’s scary how hearing you cry was enough to send his emotions in a frenzy. But you needed him and he didn’t want you to be alone. “Where are you sweetheart?” He asks, the nickname flowing off his tongue before he can stop. “I’ll pick you up. Your location’s shared with me right?”

“Mhm,” You mumbled back and his heart nearly snapped in two with how dejected you sounded. He frowns, grabbing his jacket and his keys–rushing to slip on his sneakers. 

“Okay just stay there and don’t go anywhere. I’ll be there in a few. Don’t cry (Name).”

You make a sound of understanding and he hangs up, his finger tapping to click on Suguru’s contact. Satoru hears other familiar voices in the background but he doesn’t pay much attention to it. 

“What’s up Satoru–?”

“Party’s off.”

“What? Wait what are you–”

“Sorry something came up. I’ll tell you later,” he says, hanging up before his friend can say anything else. He knows he should feel bad for flaking out last minute but his list of priorities had you at the top of it. And he really didn’t care if anyone else would understand. 

You’re regretting the choice of shorts in the chilly night air and the ice-cream you ate wasn’t helping you shiver any less. 

The way Satoru sounded made that warm, fuzzy feeling settle in your stomach again. He sounded like he would drop whatever he was doing just to get to you and it made you feel special. You think back to the sound of “sweetheart” from his lips, shaking your head when you feel your blood get warm.

“(Name)?” Satoru’s voice startles you from your thoughts and you think the sound of it could erase all your troubles. “You alright?” He asks, shrugging the jacket off his shoulders and draping them over your legs, kneeling down to see your face.

You only nod. “I want to go home.”

“Yeah I can take you back–”

“No,” you shake your head. “Back to your place.”

For a moment, you’ve stunned him but that surprise left as fast as it arrived. He sighs, tapping your knee with his finger. “Usually dinner comes first–”

“Not like that you idiot,” you kick him lightly, a grin forming on your lips. “Your methods of comforting are weird.”

“Yeah?” He laughs, the sound blending with the wind. “Well maybe I’m not trying to comfort you,” he eyes you with a teasing glint in his eyes and flashes a lopsided grin. He looked almost sweet as he did sly, the blend making your heart pick up in pace. 

You squirm, mustering a tone of nonchalance. “I changed my mind. I’m going back to my place.”

This time he chuckles, his eyes narrowing in amusement. “Nuh uh. It’s my job to wipe that frown off your face,” he says, the corny phrase making you roll your eyes. “C’mon, I’ll be good to you.”

You pretend to think, ignoring the attentive expression he wore. “Fine. I guess I’ll let you take me home.”

“That’s my girl,” he grinned, standing up to his full height. You beam at him, matching his steps as you two reach his door. By the time the two of you were settled at his place, you already spoke to your parents in private–clearing up the misunderstandings like Satoru reminded you to do. You were glad you had him and even more glad that things were falling back to place. 

Your eyes scan your surroundings, noticing how he must’ve tidied things up. “Did you clean your place?”

“Hm?” He grabs two mugs from the cabinet. “Oh yeah. I was going to have a party here.”

“Today?”

“That’s right,” he drawls, glancing at you from the corner of his eyes. “I was going to call you to see if you wanted to go.”

“Really?” That was a shock to you. “Are you still gonna have one today?”

“Nah. Canceled it last minute.”

You pause, raising your brows as you try not to jump to conclusions. “Why’d you cancel it?”

“Had better things to do. I'd rather hang out with you anyways,” he says casually, smiling when he finds the packets of hot cocoa. “Found it!”

Did he cancel the party for me? You think to yourself, a bit surprised that you came to that conclusion; but if you were right and he did, you wouldn’t know what to feel other than appreciation and maybe something else. Whether that was true or not, you know that you should be feeling guilt and not giddiness from having him prioritize you. Was it normal to feel this way for Satoru? You’re about to let your thoughts fill your head but you feel your breath hitch at how he seems to lean closer to you. 

His hands move you by the hips, the touch barely lasting five seconds. “Sorry I gotta get the spoons,” he murmurs, paying no mind to how you hold your breath. Your eyes fall to his biceps, swallowing a gasp as you see how the black material of his shirt moved with every movement he makes. There was no way he was human when he looked like that.

Oh my god, you think to yourself, suddenly mortified at the fact that you were checking him out. What was wrong with you right now? You always knew Gojo was attractive but you didn’t think he was this attractive. And if he had any idea of your internal conflict he didn’t pay it any mind. 

“Can you go get the movie ready for me?”

“Uh huh,” you nod immediately, quickening your pace as you try to distract yourself. By the time he sits next to you, the blankets and snacks are already placed neatly on the living room table. You smile and mutter a thank you when he hands you the mug of hot cocoa. 

“Feel better?” He asks, propping an arm on the head of the couch once you’re halfway through the movie: a random romcom you picked to cheer you up. Even as someone who claims he’d rather watch a movie with more action, you think the drama that comes with romcoms intrigues him–much more than he’d like to admit. 

You take a sip of your drink, your eyes flitting to him. “Much better.”

“I bet,” he murmurs, his eyes glancing at the way your knees touched. The scene panels to a teary confession the female lead does, the music dramatic with strings in the background. You watch intently, observing the expressions both characters make on screen.

“Y’know, I never understood how they can always come up with a speech like that on the spot,” Satoru comments, plopping a few gummy bears in his mouth. “Isn’t that unrealistic?”

“It’s a movie,” you point out, watching as the male lead hung onto every word the female lead had to say. “It’s not supposed to be realistic.”

“I guess you’re right. But that stuff apparently happens in real life right?”

“Wouldn’t you know? You have people confessing to you all the time.”

“I don’t give them much time to continue speaking,” he shrugs. 

You don’t like how uneasy you feel after he says that. “Well, maybe it’s love that makes this kind of stuff happen.”

This earns you an amused snicker. “Of course you’d say that. You gonna do that with Suguru? Confess to him from the bottom of your heart?”

You roll your eyes. “To do that, I’d have to be in love with him.”

“Are you?”

“No,” you give him an incredulous look. “I hardly know the guy. I just really like him.”

He makes a sound of understanding but you feel as if you’re deluding yourself when you see the look of relief cross his face. You turn to him, the movie forgotten all of a sudden. “Would you do that?”

“What? Confess to Suguru with the bottom of my heart?” 

“Yeah sure. That’s what I meant.” you huff, seeing his teasing grin form. You sigh. “No like…confess to someone you love.”

He’s quiet, the faraway look in his eyes confirming that he’s deep in thought. You’re not sure why a pang of irritation hits you when you realize that there might be someone Satoru’s in love with. And you’re not sure if it’s because he’s not telling you or because you want to be that someone. You go with the former because you’re supposed to like Suguru. 

His eyes wander to meet yours and the tick in his jaw makes you nervous–makes your palms sweaty because he’s never looked at you like that. You’re not even sure words could describe what emotion he had on his face. He smiles–not the smile that’s crooked and boyish. It’s the smile that’s sharp and makes his eyes narrow. “I might.”

“You might?” You ask, hating how breathless your voice sounded to your ears–something that he notices with the way amusement practically glimmers in his eyes. You swallow a gasp when his gaze falls to your lips, quickly flying back to your eyes. 

“Maybe,” he whispers and you can’t help but wet your lips, feeling faint when the bright blue of his eyes darkens to black. You don’t flinch when his head tilts, his arm coming to the side to trap you between the couch. His cologne overwhelms you, makes you drunk on him. He’s so close that you can feel his breath hit your face. 

“Satoru–” 

The sound of your phone buzzing crushes the tension quickly and you let him lean back–looking as if he had more to say. You feel a smidge of disappointment as you grab your phone. “It’s Suguru,” you say and you’re not sure why your inner voice begs Satoru to tell you to ignore the phone call–to act like he cares more. 

“Shouldn’t you answer it?” He questions and you hate that sinking feeling in your stomach when he doesn’t even spare a glance at you–as if acting like he wasn’t about to kiss you seconds ago. You can only frown, nodding as you watch him stand up–still not offering you one single look. “I’ll clean up.”

As you glance at your phone, at the name of Suguru appearing on your screen, you hope for the slightest bit of joy–that lovesick feeling you get whenever you’d see him. Yet, it felt wrong. This felt wrong. And apparently, Suguru could tell from your voice that there was something bugging you. 

“Is everything alright? You don’t sound too good.”

Your eyes linger on Satoru’s figure moving to the kitchen. You think Suguru mentions something about a date but you don’t pay much attention, not feeling all that bad as you drown out his voice. “Yeah. I’m fine. What were you saying?”

“I was asking if you wanted to go to dinner with me tomorrow. I’ll pick you up at 7 and we can–”

“Sure,” you say, trying to ignore the way your body lurches at your response–as if it didn’t want this. “Sure. I’ll see you at 7.”

You don’t catch what he says when he hangs up, only thinking of how Satoru looked at you when he was leaning closer. The thought doesn’t horrify you as much as it should but you think that if he had kissed you, you probably would’ve kissed him back. 

If someone told you a month ago that you were going on a date with Suguru, you would’ve cried tears of joy and celebrated. But now, you’re almost undeniably feeling a wave of indifference hit you and it feels awful. Suguru’s perfect–his sharp features and his charming smile that’d send anyone into a frenzied mess. Or maybe most tend to fixate on how suave he is with his words–mixing the subtlest of flirtations with simple compliments.

He’s everything you could’ve asked for. Yet, you find yourself missing the ruthless beauty you saw in Satoru–the striking blue of his eyes and the rare color of his hair. You find yourself missing the rasp of his voice, how it’d soften that night when he comforted you; you find yourself missing his warm and strong embrace as he took care of you in your inebriated state; you find yourself missing how close he was that night on his couch and how he looked at you. 

At some point, you found yourself replaying that scene over and over again. The first few times, you were giddy with hormones as you imagined him leaning closer and kissing you. After a while, you wanted the image gone because it didn’t happen. He pulled away. He let you pick up the call from Suguru. He acted like nothing happened when in reality, a lot did happen. You two were finally breaching the line of friends and he knew that. 

So why? That question plagued your mind for days after and every time you think you forgot about it, the memory of him would remind you all over again. And when he only congratulated you when you told him about your date with Suguru you felt betrayed. Why don’t you care? You almost blurted out but technically he did care. After all, he was the one who was trying to set you guys up so why did you suddenly want to change your mind?

You think you might hate him a little for being so good at acting like everything’s normal and you think you might hate more for making your heart beat so fast. Things weren’t supposed to end up like this. You weren’t supposed to imagine your best friend kissing you breathless or taking you on a date. 

Everything’s going to fall into place, you tell yourself. You’ve already dolled up and were in the middle of spraying your perfume when Getou messaged you that he was already here. He’s relaxed in the car as you enter the car. This scene feels the same, you think to yourself, recalling the way Gojo greeted you the last time he picked you up.

“You’re wearing the shirt you wore to the party,” Getou points out and you look down at your shirt, gaping at the revelation that you’re wearing the same top Gojo told you to wear. Even with the company of another man, your subconscious still wishes he was here. 

“I didn’t even notice,” you mumble, smiling at the brown-haired male as he drives. The small talk is all natural as you two make your way to the restaurant and you’re grateful that Suguru’s such an easy person to talk with. He’s nice. Really nice and you feel almost guilty for not being as enthusiastic as you wanted to be. 

It’s only when you’re midway through the meal that he mentions it. “You’re not here.”

“What?”

“Here,” he shrugs, glancing at you with an empty smile. “You’re thinking about something else aren’t you?”

“I’m not–”

“Don’t worry I’m not mad,” he says and you know he’s telling the truth. “I’m curious. What are you thinking about?”

This makes you squirm in discomfort, a bit uneasy at how perfectly he read you. Satoru’s always made comments about Getou’s intuitive feeling for emotions and you’re starting to think he wasn’t exaggerating. “What if I don’t wanna tell you?” You joke.

“Then you’d leave me to assume,” he answers easily, the corner of his lips curling upwards. “I’m not an idiot (Name). I know when a lady’s thinking about someone else in my presence.”

When you try to protest, he only smiles. “Is it Satoru?”

Your silence is enough said. You want to deny him–want to shake your head and utter a firm “no.” But something about the question makes you lose your sense of thought and Suguru understands that too. “Are you in love with him?”

This catches your attention. “No. I like you not him.”

“Aren’t we well past the point of lying now?” He gives a good-natured chuckle. “If you liked me then you wouldn’t have looked at your phone so many times as if you were expecting a call.”

You widen your eyes. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to–”

“Nah I’m really not mad,” he sighs. “But I’m interested in why you didn’t decline my offer for a date.”

You’re silent for a while, musing over his words. “When you called me, Satoru and I were about to kiss. Or well–at least I think we were about to kiss.

“So why’d you pick it up? I know Satoru enough to know that a call from me isn’t enough to make him stop with whatever he’s doing,” he raises a brow and you catch a roll of his eyes as he remembers something. 

“It’s because he was the one who was setting us up together.”

Suguru makes a sound of confusion, nodding at you to continue. You take a big breath. “I asked Satoru to help me get with you.”

Getou makes a “o’ with his mouth, nodding in consideration as he processes your words. His pity makes you feel small and you’re finally experiencing the impact tenfold. “Oh (Name).”

“Yeah,” you shrug. “So now I’m pretty sure I messed up the friendship because I was stupid and he’s never gonna like me back–”

“That’s not true,” he stops you, taking a sip from his wine. “Satoru’s different around you.”

“Well that’s because I’ve known him for a while now.”

“Maybe. But he doesn’t go out of his way to help people like he does with you. Even an idiot could notice that.”

“That doesn’t mean he likes me back–”

“You don’t know that yet,” he retorts, that smile of his returning again. “Just like I didn’t know you were in love with my best friend the entire time.”

You wince, swallowing as you peer up at him. You know he didn’t intend for the comment to burn but a small part of you thinks he did it on purpose. The sight of you sulking brings a wider grin to play on his face. “Relax. I’m only playing with you,” he pauses. “I’m a bit jealous that Satoru's got such a cute girl in love with him though.” 

His teasing makes you laugh. “What if he doesn’t love her back?”

“Then he’d be an idiot,” he says, giving you a look as he asks for the bill. “If he breaks your heart you know who to go to. I’d be happy to have you for myself.”

You roll your eyes, smiling softly when he coyly smiles. Suguru was kind enough to offer to drop you off at your place but you told him you wanted to see Satoru—bringing a surprised look on the brown-haired male’s face. You’re not sure how apparent it was, but you reeked of anxiety and Suguru was quick to point it out.

“I’ll wait for you,” he says nonchalantly, shooing you with his hand once you stare at him in bewilderment. “Go. Just do me a favor and message me when you guys are gonna get uh intimate.”

“We’re not—“ you click your tongue at his grin. You thank him, rushing to Satoru’s flat—the sound of your heels clicking against the floor. 

If you were in a movie, there would be dramatic music playing in the background—perhaps orchestra or a sappy love song. The scene was so cliche but you’re understanding why the protagonists always ran: it was love. You were in love with Gojo Satoru. 

You ring his doorbell, fixing your hair as you ready yourself to see him—mentally preparing the script of your confession. Please be home, please be home, please—

The door opens and a plethora of blue looks back at you, the surprise evident in them. You visibly brighten, smiling as you see him. “Satoru I—“

“Satoru?” another voice says from behind him—the voice evidently female. You freeze, feeling as if this image was in slow motion as you see a glimpse of a girl behind Satoru. Your eyes flit to both of them, the speech you prepared in your head drying up like a sore. “Who’s this?”

You hate that you can only watch. “It’s just a friend. Why don’t you go back inside for a bit, yeah?”

She’s so pretty, it hurts. There wasn’t a speck of imperfection on her and the need to curl up in a ball never felt stronger. The girl nods at Satoru, glancing at you in curiosity as she leaves you two alone. 

You think you might hate a little bit for looking at you in concern. “Is there something wrong? Are you okay? If something—“

“No. Nothing’s wrong I’m just—“ you say, wishing your voice was louder at this moment. You avoid his eyes, fearing that you’d end up crying in front of him if you continued to stare at him. “I need to go.” 

“What? But you just got here—“

“I don’t know why I came here. This was a mistake and I—“ you sigh shakily, turning on your heel to leave. 

Satoru grabs you by the wrist, his gaze soft as he shakes his head when he sees you try to pry his hand off of you. “Just tell me what I can do—“

“Suguru’s waiting for me,” you say quickly, ignoring the way his face drops. “He’s outside right now.” 

You hold your breath the moment his hand slowly slips off your wrist, taking a few steps back as you make your way outside. Not once do you turn back as you try your best to hold the tears in—ultimately failing as they fall as quickly as they appear. 

By the time you reach Suguru’s car, your make-up is already ruined. At first, he snaps his head back at you with a smile, the curve of lips quickly disappearing as he sees your lip trembling. “No?”

“No,” you confirm, sitting back into the car and wiping your tears with a tissue he hands you. There’s no words spoken between you two as he starts the car, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. Ironically, you listen to the soundtrack of “The Other Woman” playing in his car and he’s quick to change the song. He clears his throat.

“I didn’t think he was that stupid,” he says after some time, signaling right as he reaches the stop light. 

“He wasn’t,” you murmur. “I was the stupid one for thinking that we could be more than friends.”

After the ordeal a couple nights ago, you’re not even ashamed that you’re blatantly avoiding Gojo like the plague. You even turned off your read receipts for him which you would’ve found so petty if you didn’t feel so frantic at the sound of his name. Originally, you thought he’d put up more of a fight and be more persistent in getting your attention–only you were proven wrong when you didn’t see any of his attempts increasing. 

Disappointed, you were caught in a dilemma. You wanted this distance but craved his presence. At some point, your thoughts ran dry and you were in a slump. Were you always this bad at making up your mind?  

No. You weren’t. You didn’t think excessively hard when you decided you liked Getou and when you stopped liking him. Nor did you think super hard about your other crushes. Gojo made your brain hurt and if this was love, you’re not sure you really liked it; but it felt so nice to think about how it would feel to be loved by him–to have him kiss you. 

Which is why you thought it was a great idea to avoid him because surely time makes the feelings fade. And you hope they fade fast–especially after you saw him with that girl. You bite back your jealousy at the thought of what they did together. Today was supposed to be a mental health day. It was if fate allowed you to have little to nothing to do and you were going to take advantage of it. 

The coffee house was ambient with the occasional loud laughter from groups of friends. You were halfway through your book, taking a sip from your drink as you flipped the pages. This was what you were meant for: reading novels in a cafe, keeping a low profile, and protecting your peace. 

You’re about midway through the big plot twist until you hear the sound of a chair scraping and your heart freezes in your chest when you see Gojo stare back at you. Only this time, he looks serious and even annoyed. 

“I knew I’d find you here,” he begins, tapping his finger nails on the wooden table. You don’t miss the way a few people take a few double-takes when they walk past him. So much for keeping a low profile. 

“Gojo,” you acknowledge him awkwardly, fidgeting with the pages of your book.

Your stomach does a flip when his jaw twitches and his eyes cross your face. He sighs, leaning back and adjusting his seating position. “Are you mad at me?”

“Why would I be mad at you?”

“You literally just called me Gojo,” he said and if you were more rational, you would’ve laughed at how childish he sounded over you not using his first name. 

“A lot of people call you Gojo,” you point out, still not meeting his eyes. 

“You’re not just ‘a lot of people.’ And you always call me Satoru,” he murmurs. 

You tense up. There he goes again: treating you like you’re special. It makes you confused and makes your heartbeat skip. You clear your throat. “I’m not mad at you.”

“Then why are you avoiding me?” He says, a bit loudly at that. It was unlike Gojo to attract attention to personal matters in public and the guilt hits you. You were so caught up in your own feelings that you completely ignored how he would’ve felt. Even if he only thought of you as a friend, anyone would’ve felt mad if put in the situation you put Gojo in. 

You glance at the curious gazes in the cafe, grabbing him by the hand as you pull him outside to a secluded area. You quickly drop his hand, a bit surprised that he let you even hold it. “What are you talking about?” You ask, not sure why you’re playing dumb. 

“You’re avoiding me,” he says, staring down at you. Sometimes, you forget how tall Satoru really is and how his gaze can make anyone feel small. “Did I do something to make you mad?”

You think back to him and the girl. “No you didn’t do anything.”

“Then what the hell is it?” He says, sounding more mad than you initially thought. His eyes scan over your face–observing your pursed lips and aversion from his eyes. He clicks his tongue. “Is this about the other night?”

You really wish you didn’t snap your head so fast to meet his eyes. The other night could’ve meant many things but you knew he was referring to a specific one. “No,” you say and you already know he doesn’t believe you. 

“(Name),” he says softly. “Were you jealous?” Hearing him saying it out loud makes you cringe. You shake your head adamantly, trying to muster up the courage to not break eye-contact with him. You wonder if he could hear how loud your heartbeat was. “I’m not jealous. Why would I be jealous?”

“You tell me,” he voices in that tone that tells you that he’s already figured it out. For all the years you’ve known Gojo, you’ve become well-acquainted with his habits and his mannerisms. And you knew him well enough to realize that he wasn’t going to stop with the questions until you told him the truth. 

He always did this. Always made sure to pummel the truth out of you and it didn’t matter how dirty he played. “Then why did you go to me in the first place? Didn’t you have Suguru outside waiting for you?”

“I–”

“What was so important about what you wanted to tell me that you left Suguru waiting for you? What was it and why are you so scared that you’re avoiding me?”

“It’s because I like you!” You finally say, knowing that he bested you in this game of his. The regret hits you so hard you feel like running away again. Only this, he doesn’t let you when he pulls you by the shoulder. 

“What?” He says breathlessly, his eyes wide with wonder. It’s over, you think to yourself. He’s going to hate you after this because you ruined the friendship. 

“I avoided you because I like you,” you admit quietly. “And because I saw you with that girl the other night.”

“(Name)...” 

“Stop,” you murmur, feeling the tears form. “Stop. I already know what you’re gonna say, okay? It doesn’t matter anymore.”

You shrug him off, wiping your tears with your sleeve. The plans for “protecting your peace” almost seemed silly now because you couldn’t rewind time and undo all of this. You don’t bother saying goodbye to Gojo as you take your chances in leaving. And you desperately wonder how you were going to move on from this. 

Gojo thinks he’s in a fever dream. Your confession stunned him into oblivion and if it weren’t for your tears, he thinks he might’ve stayed in one spot for hours on end. The night you came over, Gojo already had enough on his mind. Seeing you in the flesh made him lose the logical side of his brain and his mind just replayed that night you two nearly kissed. 

He remembered being able to taste how nervous you were–how you found purchase on his shoulders as he tried his hardest not to pin you to the couch and kiss you stupid. He remembered how soft you were and how that thought would torture him for days on. 

Gojo knew what he did after was an asshole move but he thought the phone call from Suguru served as a reminder that he couldn’t have you. You two were best friends and to ruin that because he wanted you was selfish of him. He was already selfish enough to want to keep you for himself but you wanted Suguru. 

That’s why when you came to his place, he was confused. Gojo did something stupid and didn’t want the thoughts of you to keep popping up. He recalled dialing the number of some girl he stopped talking to ages ago just to not have you occupy his mind. 

When he saw your brows furrow at the sight of her, he was surprised to say the least. He ruled out the possibility of jealousy early on and just kept it as that. But now, on this chilly afternoon and in some secluded corner, you were confessing to him. 

You like him. You like him back. Sure, you didn’t love him like he loves you (or at least he thinks so) but that's besides the point. He collects himself the moment he sees the tears forming in your eyes, panic coursing through him. 

Did his silence make you misunderstand? Did you know that he was ready to scream and tell the whole world that he finally got the girl of his dreams? How he was prepared to pull you into a crushing hug and hold you like he had heaven in his arms? 

He forgot you weren’t a mind reader and it dawned on him that he caused your tears. He doesn’t want to be the guy who lets misunderstandings marinate nor does he want to be the cause of your fallout. He was going to fix this. 

If you thought he was going to let you go that easily then you severely underestimate him. Because Gojo Satoru was willing to fight for your love.

You think you’re in some sappy k-drama when he grabs you by the wrist the second time. If you weren’t crying your eyes out, you would’ve laughed at him and he would’ve laughed with you. But there’s only a wave of frustration when he doesn’t let go. “Satoru let me go–”

“No,” he says with a deadpan and you almost think he sounds desperate. You’re about to say something but he only steps closer. “You can’t run away like you did before. That’s the easy way out–”

“I’m not–”

“You are,” he interrupts. “And I’m not gonna let you because you’re gonna listen to what I have to say.”

You’re almost reluctant to stay silent but you give in when he squeezes your wrist–as if begging you to stay. You sigh. “Fine.”

“Good,” he whispers, racking his brain for what to say. He takes a deep breath. “A while back, I said I didn’t understand how the characters from romance movies always knew what to say in moments like these. You know those super long speeches? It seemed unrealistic to me but I think I understand now.”

You let him continue, clinging onto every word that falls from his lips. “It’s so easy to say stuff like this. When you’re in love with someone, you notice the little things about them. I noticed you and you were the only thing on my mind. You still are the only thing on my mind. Do you get what I mean?”

You watch in awe as he continues, stuttering over some of his words which was so rare for him. “The night you told me you liked Suguru I was so annoyed. I’ve never gotten jealous of Suguru or anyone but I wanted to be the one that you liked. I wanted to be the one that you dressed up for and the one you smiled at. It drove me insane when you went on a date with him and I hate that I didn’t just say fuck it and steal you away sooner.”

He takes a chance to catch his breath, ruffling his hair as he finally flashes you a crooked grin–a mix of embarrassed and boyish. “That girl you saw me with…I never did anything with her,” he admits and you think you might fall over from shock. “I couldn’t. I just kept thinking about you and I wanted you on my mind all the time. I didn’t want to think about anyone else and didn’t want anyone to take your place–”

“What I’m trying to say is that I’m in love with you,” he finally says. “I already said that earlier but I want to say it again. I think I’ve always loved you–even when we were kids. I think little kid me always wanted your attention. I just never knew what I felt until I realized that you weren’t mine–not mine to love. And I don’t think there’s nothing in the world that I want more than you.”

At this point, your mouth is already ready to catch flies as you listen to his ramblings about his affections. You think you might cry. Gojo’s usually not good with words but you can tell how genuine he is–how much he meant this. “Then all those times you helped me with Suguru?”

“I hated doing that,” he huffs. “I swear I was about to punch Suguru every time he called you cute.”

You laugh, feeling jittery all over. “Would you?”

“I’m a bit worried that you like that idea a bit too much.”

You grin, shrugging. “Maybe a little. I guess I should tell you that I really wanted you to kiss me when we were on the couch.”

“You did?” He practically beams, cupping your face with his hand. You feel your stomach do twists when his thumb grazes the skin of your cheek softly, as if this was always normal. 

“And I should probably tell you that I love you too,” you say firmly, gaining a rush of confidence. “And you should probably kiss me right now.”

The smile on his face might just be the prettiest thing you’ve seen in the world. He leans in, cupping your face as he presses his lips against yours. The way he holds you makes you feel safe and you think you might love him a little more when he moves his hand to your neck. 

You break the kiss. “Does this mean we’re dating now?”

He laughs. “Do I need to kiss you again for you to say yes?” 

When you nod, he pulls you in again and again. And if this was his way of asking, you’d say yes each time. 

[harryspet]

bambi eyes (3) r. cameron

[Warnings] soft!dark!rafe cameron x reader, daddy!rafe x little!reader older!rafe, crimeboss!rafe, rafe takes advantage of traumatized reader, DUBCON, dd/lg, sex trafficking, sexual slavery, sugar daddy rafe, stockholm syndrome, spoiling kink, unprotected sex, forced? age regression, little editing, 18+ READ AT YOUR OWN RISK

word count: 3.4k

In which you do your best to deal with your Daddy's mood swings.

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bambi eyes masterlist

You felt like you were seeing Rafe less and less as the next two weeks went on. He was stressed about what was going on with work. He often paced back and forth in front of you, ranting, although he was never specific about the details of what was going on. 

You noticed that he grabbed you tighter, pushed you harder into the mattress, and talked less during sex whenever something outside was affecting him. You were starting to accept it; it never hurt too much, and you’d be more scared if he weren’t interested in you in that way. If he didn’t want to be intimate with you, then there was a chance he wouldn’t want you anymore. 

As much as Rafe promised you this was permanent, you couldn’t fully believe him. He had done all of this just for you, so you had to be able to offer him something special in return. 

Like Rafe wanted, you established a routine. Every morning the birds would wake you up exactly at eight, and you’d make your bed which kept you from napping all day. Staying in your room was causing your imagination to stretch.  You found new ways to entertain yourself, including trying on all the clothes in your wardrobe and throwing elaborate tea parties with all your stuffed animals and dolls. 

One night that you thought would be like the last twelve nights, Rafe came to you after Lana had already brought you dinner. He wasn’t dressed in his usual khakis and dress shirt but in sweatpants and a pullover. You were curled up on the window seat, drawing flowers in a notebook, when Rafe came over to join you. 

“Hi,” You spoke softly. He placed a warm hand on your knee, and you slowly closed your notebook. 

“Hi, baby,” There was an ease and calmness to his voice that made you believe he’d actually had a good day, “What are you working on? Show me.”

You sat up, leaning closer, as you handed him the notebook. You hid slightly behind your knees as Rafe began to flip through the pages. At this point, you’d covered half of the pages in your doodles, “Oh wow, these are really pretty, Bambi,” He smiled with his entire face, including his bright eyes, “We should hang some of these on the fridge.”

You felt a bit of relief, hearing that he liked him, “I have more. Way more. I’ve colored a lot of the coloring books.”

“Go get them, I’ll pick my favorites,” Excitedly, you got up from the window seat. When you set several full coloring books in his lap, Rafe’s lips parted in shock, “Okay, wow, I don’t think I realized how much coloring you’d been doing.”

“I think it’s fun,” You said. 

“Good, I want you to have fun,” Rafe nodded, “But have you worn down all your color pencils? How come you haven’t asked for more?”

You shrugged when Rafe gave you an inquisitive look, “I try to take care of the ones I have.”

“Would you even ask Daddy for more coloring books if you ran out of pages to color?”

“Maybe,” You spoke honestly. 

The idea of asking for more than what Rafe had already given you did make your heart race. Rafe shook his head at something, “Daddy will get you lots more art supplies. Maybe you could try painting?”

“We could paint together?” You perked up. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Rafe assured you, “I’m really, really sorry I haven’t been here as much as I’ve wanted to. Needed to, really. It’s just … I’m working on a lot of things right now, you know?”

“I’ve been okay,” You said, “Lana has been kind to me.”

“Good, good, I want you to be happy here, you know? That’s why I want you comfortable asking for things,” You watched Rafe’s eyes wander towards the bookshelf, “Like your books. I never see you reading them. Do you not like them?”

“I do,” You said quickly.

Rafe started to stare deeply at you, “What-what is it?”

“I . . . “

“I can pick some different ones for you? What do you like?”

“I like it when you read to me, Daddy,” Rafe tilted his head and the mentioning of his nickname didn’t light up his features like usual, “It’s hard for me. I never needed to … do that.”

He paused, which made you think you’d done something wrong, “You’ve never needed to read?”

“I can do it,” You said, “It’s hard when they’re all together, and there’s so many… the words. I’m sorry you think I don’t like the books you picked. I really do. I will try harder–”

“Hey, hey, hey,” Rafe rushed to put the coloring books aside and grab ahold of your face, “I just didn’t know, that’s it. You didn’t do anything wrong. At all.”

It wasn’t something you’d ever felt embarrassed about, but now you couldn’t help but feel stupid. Deep down, you felt a guy like Rafe deserved someone better. He deserved someone smarter than you. 

You closed your eyes, wanting to hang your head, but Rafe said, “Look at me, hey,” Weakly, you did, “I’ve been thinking that you should spend more time with Lana instead of being cooped up in here. At least until I can take care of this … one problem I have. She’d be happy to have some company. And, if you want to learn, she could help you with your reading.”

“You don’t care?”

“Not at all, look, don’t worry. I’ve got you, sweet girl,” He said. Rafe leaned in to peck your nose before he brought your lips together. You melted into him, realizing then how much you missed him when he was gone, “You know what I was thinking?”

You stared back at Rafe, who had a mischievous look in his eye. 

“We should take the boat out.”

“Now? Where?” 

“Just on a short ride to get you some fresh air. It’ll be cold, so let’s find you some warmer clothes, yeah?”

It was a rhetorical question; Rafe was already making his way over to your wardrobe. You looked down at the small silk pajama set you were wearing. You’d seen all the boats out by the dock but hadn’t imagined that Rafe would take you out on one. “Lift your arms,” You did exactly as he said, pulling a light blue sweatshirt over your head. He also chose long pajama bottoms, helping you get into those, too, “You want to bring one of your stuffies?”

Your excitement mixed with your anxiety as you put on your slippers. It was a hard decision to make about which stuffed animal you wanted to bring, but you settled on Fin, your silvery-blue dolphin, “Excellent choice.”

Rafe grabbed your hand, leading you downstairs, “Do you think we’ll see a real dolphin?”

“Well, they tend to be more active during the day, and it’ll be dark soon … but maybe if you wish really, really hard.”

The air was much cooler outside than you expected, and you certainly didn’t expect it to feel so strange being in the fresh air. You turned in a circle just so you could take in the sky, the trees, the house, and everything around you. 

You followed a determined Rafe across the yard and towards the deck. He chose one of the smaller boats, although there was room for at least four more people. You yelped when Rafe grabbed you by your waist suddenly and lifted you inside. Another yelp escaped your lips as the boat rocked under the pressure of your weight, “You’re okay, don’t worry,” He didn’t have to tell you to take a seat or be still; you decided you wouldn’t move at all, “One . . . moment.”

You watched through the corner of your eyes as Rafe untied the roaps keeping the boat tethered to the dock. The boat rocked again as Rafe hopped inside, causing you to grip Fin in one hand and grip the side of the boat in the other. 

You sat in the seat right across from Rafe as the boat slowly pulled off towards deeper water. As the boat became more steady, you turned your head and watched Tannyhill get smaller and smaller. The orange and blue sky reflected off the water, creating an insanely beautiful view. You sailed towards the horizon, the son looking half submerged in the water, “How do you feel?” Rafe yelled over the sound of the motor, “Wanna go faster?”

You nodded, a smile growing on your face, “My little daredevil, huh?” You sat up on your knees, wanting to see more. You get a better look at Figure 8, seeing lots of huge houses along the beach, although none of them compare to Tannyhill. Rafe pointed out different landmarks for you, including the country club and a huge lighthouse out in the water. In your eyes, this night made every other night where you worried about your place with Rafe worth it. 

“Go ahead, you can give it a taste test,” Lana conceded, allowing you to dip your finger into the chocolate cake batter. A few days after your night out with Rafe, Lana was showing you how to make the perfect chocolate cake. You thought she might be exaggerating about how perfect it was until you were licking your finger. An excited moan left your mouth and you bounced on the balls of your feet, “It’s great, isn’t it? Espresso powder is the key.”

“It really is,” You agreed. 

“Now, wash your hands. It’s time to pour our batter.” 

The entire day Lana had told you exactly what to do and how to do it. You didn’t mind listening or following her directions as she usually spoke to you warmly. Besides that, you wanted to learn exactly how to take care of things around the house, knowing that Rafe would appreciate your help when Lana couldn’t be here. The two of you cleaned the entire downstairs, did several loads of laundry, washed the windows in the glass patio, and even had time for a reading lesson in the early morning. She informed you that she homeschooled her youngest son and that she would try to teach you in a similar way. 

As you washed your hands, you glanced out the side window towards the dock. You could see Rafe far out on the dock, standing with the same business associate who came to the house a few weeks ago. They weren’t alone like you were expecting; someone was on their knees a few feet ahead of them, their head slumped over. You squinted your eyes, trying to see more of them, although Rafe and his business associate shouting at each other blocked your view, “What are they doing out there? Who’s that?” Lana came over to where you were standing, peeking out just like you were. 

Whatever business Rafe was involved in, Lana didn’t seem to care for it, “Mr. Cameron and Barry, they’re always at each other’s throats,” She shook her head, “Come, dry your hands. The oven is heated.”

You did as she said, turning your head away. There were going to be several layers to your cake, meaning you had three pans to fill, and after that, you and Lana would make the icing. Just as your mind wandered back to Rafe, you heard him coming through the kitchen door. 

He wiped the sweat from his forehead, pacing for a moment before his dark eyes landed on you, “Bambi, let’s … uhm, go upstairs,” His voice was shaky and deeper than normal, “Come here.”

“We’re-We’re just about to put the cake in the oven. It’s for tonight, and we’re going to make homemade icing too–”

“Now …please,” He said the last word like it was painful, “It’s time for you to go back to your room.”

No, no, no, a voice repeated in your head. 

“But Lana was going to teach me how to ice the cake, too and she —”

“Fine,” Rafe snapped, his hand slamming against the counter before he rolled his eyes, “Just stay here.” 

As Rafe stomped away, you knew you had something horribly wrong. You’d seen him in a similar mood before but he never directed any of his vitriol towards you before. Whatever had happened on the dock had clearly upset him. You really wanted to finish working with Lana. More than anything, you didn’t want to be locked in your room for another long period of time. 

After taking a breath, or attempting to take one, you turned to Lana, “I didn’t mean… I-I should go say sorry.”

“You might want to let him calm down a little bit, sweetheart,” You’d already made up your mind. You reached behind your neck to undo the top of your apron, “Turn around, let me help you. He’s not mad at you.”

“How do you know?”

“I know who he is,” She spoke simply, “Don’t take anything too personally with Mr. Cameron.”

“You can finish without me; I’m sorry, but thank you for today,” You said as you started to walk away. After you saw her nod, a sad smile on her face, you turned away and sped for the stairs. 

You approached Rafe’s bedroom moments later, hesitantly turning the knob, “Daddy?” You called, peeking inside. You called him again. He wasn’t in the main room but the shower was running in the bathroom, “Rafe?”

You jumped when he suddenly appeared in the bathroom doorframe, shirtless and his belt undone. This time, you notice his bruised hands and bloody knuckles. 

“I didn’t mean to make you upset, Daddy.”

“Get down on your knees,” He stared you down. When you tried to come closer, he said, “No, drop to your knees right there.”

You felt your knees brush against the bedroom rug, “Crawl to me.” 

If Rafe wanted you to feel even smaller, then his plan was successful. You did as he said, seeing no other option, and crawled towards him. You watched as he palmed himself over his briefs, and you could already feel him stretching you, pulling your hair, and leaving marks on your bottom. This wouldn’t last, you told yourself; he would be gentle with you another time. 

Your sage dress had ridden up your body, exposing your floral patterned white panties. 

“You’re gonna suck my cock and swallow all my cum. And then you’re gonna thank Daddy for letting you.”

You’d do exactly as your Daddy wanted, hoping he’d take your sore throat and tears as a sufficient apology. 

Once you were soundly asleep in his bed, Rafe slipped out. He had a huge, bloody problem waiting for him in the cabin of his boat. Luckily, JJ Maybank was still the degenerate he used to be, and no one except his Pogue girlfriend would come looking for him anytime, “Son of a bitch isn’t talking,” Barry grunted out, meeting Rafe at the beginning of the dock, “Knocked two of his bottom teeth out and he’s still not motivated.”

Rafe had done everything possible to limit any competition he might face in Kildare. All small-time dealers would be working for someone who worked for Rafe. This was meant to be Rafe’s island yet somehow, Maybank was getting supplies from the mainland and was stealing his customers. 

“We could take his girl.”

Rafe contemplated Barry’s question before shaking his head, “If she comes around trying to find him, we might have no choice. I’m sure that will motivate him.”

Rafe could see Barry’s eyes wandering to Kie. Part of him would love to see JJ squirm if they got their hands on her. You were the reason he didn’t think too long about that. Barry, on the other hand, Rafe would let him do whatever he wanted with Kie. In the end, Rafe wanted JJ to talk, to give up his sources, but he’d be just fine killing him. 

“I hope,” Barry crossed his arms, “Not exactly looking forward to dealing with the body.”

“We don’t have to deal with that shit anymore; I know who to pay to handle it,” Rafe said, “Speaking of, I think I-uh need some more security here. I want guards all around the perimeter. Because of the amount of merchandise and if we’re going to be taking captives, you know. I want this place to be a fortress.”

“Your merchandise, huh?” Barry flashed Rafe a knowing look, “You got any liquor in that big house?”

Rafe gestured his head toward the house, signaling to Barry to follow behind him. 

“If Kie doesn’t come for him and if he still has no information to offer us, we kill him. No more torture, no mess, one gunshot to the temple,” Rafe instructed, his mind racing with what their next moves should be. The more planning beforehand, the better, and the less likely it would come back to them, “That’ll send a message to the rest of the Pogues too. They work for me, or they work for no one.”

“And after you’ve cornered the market?”

“That’s just the start of everything else,” Rafe led Barry through the first floor, towards his office. Ward always used to keep his office stocked with liquor as it came in handy for important meanings. Rafe learned people will often let down their barriers and concede to more under the influence of alcohol. He opened the door for him, allowing him to enter. 

“Whoa,” Barry said, walking inside just as Rafe heard a soft gasp from a familiar voice. Eyebrows raised, Rafe entered behind him to find what had shocked him, “Is this the new Mrs. Cameron?”

With wide eyes, Rafe took you in. You were in the same clothes Rafe left you in, one of his white button-ups and your knee-high socks, “What are you doing down here?” You slowly stepped behind Rafe’s desk, and he could tell you were trying to hide yourself.

“I-I couldn’t find you.”

Rafe’s jaw jutted forward, his arms crossed, as he said, “You’re supposed to be sleeping.”

Your lips parted to say something, but Barry interrupted, “C’mon, man, it’s not even midnight! Introduce me to your girl. We can all have a drink,” He grabbed ahold of Rafe’s shoulder. You would think Barry had one the lottery based on the look in his eyes. By complete accident, Barry had stumbled on Rafe’s biggest treasure, “I’ll behave, I promise.”

“She doesn’t drink.”

 Rafe was frustrated, mostly because he should’ve been keeping closer track of you. He’d given you that necklace for a reason. A new idea crossed his mind, one he wasn’t expecting, and some of his anxiety eased. He was far from embarrassed of you, he’d chosen you for a reason, but part of Rafe wanted Barry to envy him at that moment. 

Rafe sighed, waving you closer to the two of them, “Bambi, this is Barry. Barry, this is Bambi,” Smoothly, Rafe grabbed ahold of your waist, pulling you into him. 

“Hi,” You said shyly, “It’s nice to meet you.” 

 When Barry held his hands out to you, your eyes darted towards Rafe as if to ask permission. Agreement crossed his face, and Rafe watched you shake his hand. Barry was fully taking you in, of course, but Rafe knew a handshake would be the extent of his closeness with you. 

“The pleasure is all mine, beautiful.”

“Chill out, dude. Sit down,” Rafe instructed Barry, pulling you along. 

Barry made himself comfortable on the leather couch and Rafe motioned you to sit across in one of the leather chairs. 

“How you liking Kildare?” 

“It’s really nice,” Rafe heard you respond as he poured two glasses of whiskey for him and Barry, “There’s so many big houses, and … it’s just really pretty.”

“You ain’t seen much then, have you?” Rafe handed Barry his glass, flashing a warning with his eyes, “All the girls where you’re from, they as pretty as you?”

“I . . . I don’t know,” You laughed nervously. 

Rafe placed a hand on your shoulder, and you looked up at him,  “Why don’t you go get Barry a slice of that chocolate cake you made?” 

Rafe assumed it would ease your nervousness if you could share what you made. “Okay, Daddy,” You smiled at both men, and both men watched you closely as you walked out of the room, “I’ll be right back.”

“Pretty and obedient,” Barry whistled, “I need to travel more.”

A/N: Thank you all so much for your support on the first two chapters BUT psa you will not be added to my taglist if you're not reblogging the fic and letting me know your thoughts! It is crazy to me that people will ask me to tag them in the next chapter when they have neither liked nor reblogged the fic. Constructive feedback is more encouraging than just commenting "PART 4" or "tag me in part 4" :)

PART 4

[beom-pyu]

truth or drink! (engaged edition): choi soobin

part 3 of the truth or drink series! <3

other parts: beomgyu & taehyun "my ex + my boyfriend edition" yeonjun "couples edition" kai "blind date edition"

slightly nsfw! (minors dni.)

welcome to truth or drink! engaged couples will ask each other a set of random questions. they can either answer the question or take a shot.

“i’m soobin and this is my fiance...”

“y/n!”

how long have you guys been together?

YOU: "4 and a half years."

how long have you guys been engaged?

SB: “going on 2 months now.”

who talked about marriage first?

SB: “y/n.”

YOU: “me.”

and how did that go?

SB: “they actually said it the first time we met at a mutual friend’s birthday party.”

YOU: “i was shitfaced and he had really cute dimples, so i told him we should get married. and he said okay!”

did you get engaged on the spot?

SB: “they completely forgot who i was by the next day, so i had to do all of the courting and work to even get them to go on a date with me.”

YOU: “it was worth it though.”

SB: “of course it was.”

SOOBIN: what was your first impression of me?

YOU: “other than the birthday incident, i thought you were way cooler than you actually are.”

SB: “am i not cool???”

YOU: “you are like… pitifully cute?”

SB: “that makes me sound like a charity case.”

YOU: “the cutest charity case ever.”

YOU: is there anything about getting married that scares you—something you haven’t shared with me?

SB: “hm… rationally, i know it probably won’t happen, but i feel like you’ll get bored of me at some point?”

YOU: “i could never get bored of you, baby. well… only your league of legends talk, but i love everything else.”

SB: “what’s wrong with my league of legends talk?”

you gently place your hand on top of his.

YOU: “everything.”

SOOBIN: what is something you want to try in the bedroom that we’ve never done before?

YOU: “bottoms up.”

SB: “hey, no! this is a safe space.”

YOU: “i think my mom is watching this, soobin.”

SB: “hi, y/n’s mom. now tell me.”

YOU: “if i say mine, you have to say yours.”

SB: “deal.”

YOU: “i want to like… tie you up.”

SB: “wait, i was gonna say that!”

YOU: “no way.”

SB: “yes way.”

YOU: “see, we’re a match made in heaven.”

YOU: on the count of three, both of us say the number of children we would ideally have.

YOU: “one, two, three. two!”

SB: “five!”

YOU: “five?”

SB: “i was going to say six, but i lowered it just for you.”

you give soobin an incredulous stare.

YOU: “i need a shot.”

SOOBIN: if you had one hall pass, who would you sleep with?

YOU: “people we know or…?”

the producer gives you a thumbs up.

YOU: “i’m gonna drink.”

SB: “wait, now i’m curious.”

YOU: “what about you?”

…

SB: “...pour me one, too.”

YOU: who proposed to who, and how did they propose?

SB: “i proposed. but it was really messy.”

YOU: “really cute actually. he had just gotten home from a month-long business trip and, if you didn’t know, he’s a really emotional person—”

SB: “i’m not that emotional.”

YOU: “you cried watching shrek, honey.”

SB: “that was one time.”

YOU: “you also cried during our first ti—”

SB: “continue on with the proposal, please.”

soobin pours another shot, just because, and you laugh under your breath.

YOU: “i was already in bed when he got home and he just got into bed and started bawling.”

SB: “i wasn’t ‘bawling’, i was sniffling.”

YOU: “you were bawling. anyways, he pulled me into his arms and was just like ‘please, please marry me, the love of my life, my entire universe, i can’t live without you, i need you forever—’”

SB: “okay, now you’re just making stuff up.”

YOU: “so you admit you were bawling?”

...

SB: “next question.”

SOOBIN: have you ever seriously considered breaking up with me?

YOU: “i wouldn’t say seriously…”

SB: “so you actually have considered it?”

the pout on soobin’s lips is prominent.

YOU: “you know work takes up a lot of your time, and i didn’t really understand where you were coming from in the beginning. so i guess i’ve thought about it once or twice, but i never really wanted to go through with it. i can’t see myself with anyone else but you.”

SB: “i think i’m the only one that can handle you, anyways.”

YOU: “woah, what does that mean?”

soobin just laughs and kisses the back of your hand.

SB: “take it as you will, baby.”

YOU: how often do we have sex, and how often should we have sex?

SB: “every other day…? i feel like that's more than average.”

YOU: “yeah, you’re very needy.”

SB: “i’m not needy. i’m just obsessed with you.”

YOU: “see, look, you’re trying to get into my pants right now!”

SB: “...is it working?”

YOU: “yes.”

SOOBIN: when was the last time you masturbated, and where was i?

YOU: “like, two days ago? and you were out with one of your friends.”

SB: “i still don’t know if he accidentally saw the videos you sent me or not...”

YOU: “doesn’t sound like you’re complaining.”

SB: “i’m the only one who can fuck you right, so i’m not worried.”

YOU: “mom, if you’re watching this. i’ve never had sex. i don’t even know what sex is.”

YOU: who or what do you picture when masturbating?

SB: “your ass. and your lips.”

YOU: “that was quick, woah.”

SB: “sorry y/n’s mom.”

SOOBIN: what’s your favorite and least favorite sex position?

YOU: “i think i like spooning the most? only because i don’t have to do a lot of work.”

SB: “i can’t believe you tried to convince me you’re not a pillow princess.”

YOU: “i’m not! i can be on top if i want to!”

SB: “isn’t that your least favorite though?”

YOU: “yes, but anything is good if it involves your dick so…”

SB: “and you say i’m the needy one.”

YOU: “it’s mutual!”

YOU: the average duration of sex for most couples is 10 minutes. how long do you think we last?

SB: “honestly, hours.”

YOU: “he has an inhuman libido. please pray for me.”

SB: “okay, ‘inhuman’ is an exaggeration.”

YOU: “no, you are like superman. i’m serious.”

SOOBIN: what is my biggest flaw?

YOU: “you only dress up if it’s for special occasions.”

SB: “i try my best!”

YOU: “will you let me reform your closet?”

SB: “as long as you’re paying.”

YOU: “...nevermind. you look sexy in sweatpants anyways.”

SOOBIN: about 40 to 60% of married couples divorce. do you think we will last?

YOU: “check back in after a year.”

SB: “woah, i thought we were going to grow old and wrinkly and brittle together? you don’t want to bump canes?”

YOU: “i don’t like the way you worded that.”

SB: “so i’m going to take that as a yes.”

you roll your eyes, but a smile forms on your face nonetheless.

YOU: “in all seriousness, you know i’m in love with you and i don’t think there’s anyone else out there that i’d even consider marrying. i’d love to grow wrinkly and old with you.”

SB: “awe, my little prune.”

YOU: “you’re so weird.”

SB: “and now you’re stuck with me forever~”

you look towards the camera.

YOU: “save me, please.”

masterlist

©️BEOM-PYU

[miniwheat77]

Crimson. (Graves x Reader.)

!nsfw, smut, p in v sex, stepcest, unprotected sex, choking, alcohol, drinking, no minors! NOT EDITED

Phillip gets drunk and mistakes you for your mom.

You weren’t super close with your mom or her new husband, but you had no choice.

You were going to college and since your rent had gotten raised, you had no choice but to stay with them. It was only for a year, until you were finished with school. You knew it wouldn’t be forever.

The first few months were alright, it was awkward because of course Phillip would try to play dad. He was a little overbearing and irritating considering your mom wasn’t a super active parent anyways. So when he wanted to have family dinners and wanted movie nights with the three of you, it got weird. Nevertheless, you put up with it. You wanted to tell him that he wasn’t your dad, that he didn’t have to try to do things your father never did. Sometimes when he was a little too harsh, your mom had to remind him that he wasn’t your dad and to take things easy because of how your dad had treated you before he left.

You noticed pretty quickly that something was up between your mom and him, and you figured out pretty quickly what was going on, that she was seeing someone else. You didn’t say anything to him because it’s not your business but even you’d caught her in lies about where she was going. She was gone on business trips all of the time, but her phone location never moved from the town you lived in. It was suspicious but he didn’t suspect anything, it wasn’t your business.

You only had a few months left and than you’d never have to deal with this again, you can do anything for a few months.

At least that’s what you try to tell yourself.

You’re sitting on the living room couch, resting your head on your hand and flipping through channels on the TV, trying to find something to watch. Your mom is out helping your grandma, or so she said. You called your grandma to ask how things were going.

She said your mom wasn’t with her.

It was funny that she was such a sloppy liar and Phillip never noticed. You didn’t know if he was oblivious or just plain stupid.

Phillip was out with his friends from work, he said he’d be out at the bar for a while and “not to wait up for him” not that you would but he was trying to be funny. He got a lot of eye rolls out of you, that was pretty much it. He tried really hard to make you laugh and see you smile but he never got it.

Your eyelids are getting heavy and the sound of TV starts to get drowned out until you hear keys rattling outside the door. You hear them hit the ground immediately after. A faint ‘shit’ coming from the other side of the door. You snort, standing up. You open up the door for him, seeing a smile on his lips. “Hey baby, sorry.” He’s slurring his words, clearly drunk. “Uh.. did.. did you drive home?” You ask him, trying to look passed him.

“No- course not honey, I’m not that dumb.” He laughs, pushing you back. You look confused as he’s touching you, why is he touching you?

“Sorry, didn’t mean to get home so late.” He laughs. You try to create some distance between the two of you but he’s still pushing you back slightly. “Been thinking about you all night- missed you.” You laugh awkwardly, trying to push him back. “I think you’re drunk, maybe you should get some-“ a gasp leaves your lips as he forces you back onto the couch. “No, I mean I really missed you.” His smile is gone now, he’s nudging your cheek with his nose, forcing himself between your legs. “Wait- Phillip- I’m not“ he starts to attack your neck with kisses, nipping at your skin. Your lips part slightly and you want to push him off.

You really want to.

Your heart thumps in your chest, he reaches for the zipper on his jeans. Your words get caught in your throat. Why are you letting him do this? He grinds himself into you, sloppily kissing along your jaw.

He pushes your shorts to the side and before you can protest anymore, he’s inside of you.

His thrusts are sloppy and he’s a little rough. You don’t make much noise besides pants and whines. Never making another move to stop him even when you know you should. You know this is wrong. Before you can stop him, he’s finishing inside of you with a groan. He moves off of you, mumbling something else but you don’t catch it. He just barely gets his jeans back on before he’s passing out. You stare at him, lips parted, eyes wide. What the hell just happened?

You stand up, trying to create some distance between you. You just had sex with him. Your step dad.

You turn away, rushing up the stairs in a hurry. The burn of his skin on yours. The feel of him inside of you, it throws you into another world. You shouldn’t have liked it.

What’s wrong with you.

—

“I uh.. don’t remember much from last night. But I had a good time with you.” He smirks at your mom. She reaches for her keys. She laughs. “What are you talking about? I was at my moms house helping her clean things up. That’s why you went to the bar in the first place, remember?” She laughs, taking a drink of her coffee. He looks confused for just a second.

“Oh hey Y/N. Didn’t see you standing there.” She smiles. He freezes. It clicks in his brain what might’ve happened. Turning to look at you. He sees it in your eyes, seeing you avoid his eye contact. It only confirms his suspicions. “I have to go to class now.” You mumble, turning and hurrying away. “Have a good day honey.” Your mom calls. “I have to go to work, I’ll see you later.” She says bye to him before leaving along with you. Fear courses through him. What the hell happened?

He has no choice but to wait for you to get out of class, deciding to watch tv on the couch. He’s eyeing his watch as the seconds tick by, it feels like forever. Every hour that passes, he’s looking at his watch.

Finally, he hears the handle being unlocked, you open up the door. Your eyes widen slightly when you see him and he stands up. You think of an excuse, you forgot what?

“Don’t.” He sighs. He can see you’re looking for an escape. You swallow hard.

He turns the tv off, tossing the remote down onto the couch and crosses his arms. You step inside, closing the door skeptically behind you.

“What happened last night?” He asks. He sees you swallow hard, avoiding his gaze. “I.. I was watching tv when you came home.” You stare off, fiddling with your backpack strings. “I think..” you gulp again. “Think you thought I was my mom.” Your voice is quiet.

“Did I…” he starts but stops himself, clenching his eyes shut.

“Did I force myself on you?” He takes a step toward you.

You swallow hard. Looking down. He did, but you made no effort to stop him, and you fucking liked it. You try to shake away the voice in your head. You feel guilty. His stomach falls at your silence. He doesn’t remember much but he remembers being inside of something… inside of you.

“Y/N.. I’m so sorry.” He breathes. He takes a step toward you, seeing the way you try to take a step back but the door is there. “I… how can I make this up to you? I.. I swear I would never hurt you like that. I was drunk.” He tries to plead with you. “I know.. I know you wouldn’t so just.. forget about it okay? It was a mistake, just… forget it.”

He sighs. How is he supposed to just forget about forcing himself on his step daughter?

You break away from the door and make your way for your room, he lets you go even though he knows he shouldn’t.

He returns to his spot on the couch and sighs. Putting his face in his hands. He closes his eyes and rests for a second, his mind moves at a mile a minute.

A memory breaks through the darkness, and he hears moans. The memories from the night before seeming to flood his mind. His hips thrusting into you, the squeals and whines you were letting out.

His eyes snap open and all at once he remembers everything.

He hesitates, feeling heat pool in his lower stomach. He glides his hand over his growing erection. He shouldn’t be feeling this way over you. He needs to just forget about it like you said.

—

It’s been weeks.

He’s tried to forget about it but around every corner, he’s craving what he felt with you. He’s been distant toward your mom but he doesn’t think she’s even noticed. She’s always been so busy with her job. He knows you still feel something. When he touches you by accident it sends chills up your spine, cheeks warming up and you’re drawing away from him in a hurry.

“Hey. So.. I was thinking.”

Your mom speaks up at dinner. “Since I’ll be gone for work this weekend, maybe the two of you should do something together.” You swallow hard, looking up from your plate at her. “Like what?”

She laughs. “Y/N, come on. At least try okay? And I don’t know. Maybe go to the movies or.. bowling or something.”

“Uh.. yeah. I’m sure we can find something to do.” He tries to laugh his nervousness off. He notices the way you seem to shut down, staring off into space as you try to finish your dinner. You’re thinking about it.

He’s thinking about it too.

You eventually excuse yourself from the table and it’s got him thinking, what on earth can the two of you do this weekend? Your mom will want pictures of course.

The moment she’s gone, that same heat is pooling in his groin. He thinks about you and how you felt around him, what little he remembers. He hates that he had you drunk, because now all he wants is you while sober. He’s frustrated. He goes to find you. It’s still early, you might not be awake just yet. He knocks at your door, to his surprise, you answer. You open the door but take a step back when you see it’s him. “Did you think anymore about what you want to do this weekend?” He asks. You shake your head. “I.. no. There’s not much to do here.” You avoid his gaze. He chews on his lip.

“I can take you shopping.”

You shake your head. “All my money is going into school right now, I can’t.”

He laughs. “Why would I invite you if I expected you to pay?”

“What? No- no. I don’t want you to do that.”

“I.. look. Just let me do it alright? As an apology.”

You freeze up. “That sounded so much worse than I intended it. I don’t want to buy your silence, I-“ he sighs. “It’s fine, but you don’t owe me anything.”

“Well.. let’s go find you some stuff for school, how about that?” You nod your head, agreeing with anything he says. “Alright- fine.” You nod. “Great, get dressed and than we’ll go.”

He disappears down the hallway, you close the door. You’re so frustrated.

He’s so caring and so handsome and your mom is out fucking around making a fool of herself when she’s got a guy like him at home. You’ve never met a bigger moron. You sigh, hurrying to get dressed, really you just want this over with.

You don’t know why you put makeup on, why you perfect it, or why you put nice clothes. It’s just your step-dad.

Who you already screwed once.

You shake yourself out of your thoughts. Your brain is a fucking curse lately, it won’t let it go.

He was drunk, he wasn’t thinking right. That’s it.

You make your way downstairs, the nerves set in and your hands are sweaty. He’s got jeans on, a dark blue long sleeve shirt. It squeezes his form in the most perfect ways. What the hell were you thinking agreeing to this? He’s just finished tying his boots when you take a step off the bottom stair. “Ready?”

You nod your head. Still avoiding his gaze.

He leads you to his truck and you climb into the passenger seat.

His truck even smells like him and it’s clean inside. He’s fucking intoxicating. You want to scream at how perfect he seems. How the fuck is she doing this to him? You looked at her location just before you came down the stairs and she’s at his fucking house again.

You seem to curl into yourself, turning your knees toward your door.

“You know.. we’re going to have to talk about it at some point… right?” He mumbles. “Yeah, but let’s not do that today.”

“I’m sorry I hurt you.”

“You didn’t hurt me, I’m not some fragile vase that’s gonna fall apart.”

“I shouldn’t have done what I did.”

You snort.

“Y/N. Please. Just listen to me alright? I’m sorry.”

“It’s not like you took advantage of me, you were drunk. Just drop it.”

“Y/N, I forced myself on you, there’s not much of a difference there.”

You laugh. “Yeah, aside from the fact that I barely tried to stop you.”

The words have left your mouth before you can control it. Your eyes widen. “What?”

You stay quiet.

“I don’t think I… I don’t understand.” He breathes.

“I could’ve pushed you off of me. I could’ve fought harder. But I didn’t. I let you fuck me.”

His blood is running cold in his veins. You haven’t even left the driveway yet. He swallows hard at your admission. “I know it was wrong of me and I’m trying to forget about it. I don’t know what I was thinking. You came onto me and I didn’t know what to do.” He hasn’t even started his truck yet but he doesn’t think either of you are going to be making it to the store today. “Is that why you didn’t tell your mom?” He asks. “What? No.” You mumble. “Then why didn’t you?”

“Because then she’d get to feel like the victim and she’s not innocent here either.” You don’t know why you’re going to tell him. You’re going to ruin their marriage and they’re both going to hate your guts but you can’t live like this anymore.

“What are you saying?”

“Phillip I know you’re not this dumb. She’s fucking someone else.” He freezes up.

He actually had no idea.

“When she says she’s going out of town or going to help my grandma out, she’s lying. I mean for fucks sake, she’s at his house right now.”

“How do you know that?”

“Because she’s lying. I have her location, you don’t?” He shakes his head. “Look.” You hand him your phone. He sees it, and what drives this entire situation home, is that he knows whose house it is. A coworker of hers. A guy. He laughs. He should care more than he does but he just doesn’t. He gives you your phone back. “I’m not gonna lie I expected you to be more sad.” He sits there for a second. He looks angry.

He starts the truck, throwing the column shifter into reverse. He throws his right arm up onto your headrest and spins around, looking out the back window and speeding out of the driveway. You hold onto the seat. He’s pissed. Once he’s out onto the road, he throws it into drive and speeds down the road. “What are you gonna do?”

He laughs. “Think you’ll find out soon enough.”

The house is only a couple blocks over and he reaches it quickly, pulling into the driveway, making sure to spin his tires in the gravel. Once he’s done that, it doesn’t take long for your mom and the man you assume she’s been sleeping with emerge out into the front porch. Phillip stands just to the left of his truck, arms crossed. He takes a couple steps forward and you climb out of the passenger seat too. Feet landing in the gravel. “So.. this is where you work?” Phillip laughs. Your mom is dead silent. “What are you guys doing here?” She’s clearly caught. “Ah, father daughter bonding. Maybe bowling. The movies. How to catch a cheater.” He swallows hard. “Y/N. Maybe you should go.” Your mom mumbles. “You shouldn’t see this.” Phillip laughs, shaking his head. “She’s fine, I’ll give her a ride when I’m done.”

“Phillip can we just talk? Alone?” Crocodile tears stream from her eyes. “Oh, don’t let me interrupt. Me and Y/N are going to find something to do. And I hope your stuff will be out of my house by the time we’re back. Y/N is more than welcome to stay with me until she’s done with school, but you and I are done.” He shakes his head. Climbing back into his truck. “Y/N. Are you going to go with him?” She asks in disbelief. You shake your head. “Being with my dad taught you nothing.” You mumble. She almost misses it. “Y/N.” She calls. You ignore her, climbing back into the truck as well. He pulls out of the driveway, heading back down the road.

When he pulls back into your house, you wait until he makes the first move. “You alright?”

He nods his head. “I’m great. Honestly, I haven’t been paying that much mind to anything with her since you’ve been around.” He chuckles.

“I thought you would take this harder.”

He shakes his head, surprised by the eye contact you’re finally making with him. “Nah, not gonna lie I haven’t thought about anything but that fucking pussy since I’ve been inside of it.”

Your lips part in surprise. “And I know I came inside you, tell me. Did you buy something for that? Hm?” You swallow hard. “I’m on something.” You mumble. Turning your head to the passenger window. “Yeah? Thought maybe since you’re a bad girl you went up to your room and fucked my cum deeper into that pussy.” You clench your eyes closed, why is he doing this? Is this his revenge?

“Cat got your tongue now? You’re not scared are you? I sure hope not.” He scoffs, laughing. “Didn’t even try to stop me.” He mumbles.

“Come here.”

You turn to look at him quickly. “What?”

“Sit in my lap.”

“No- I-“

He reaches across the center console, placing a hand on your thigh. “Fucking me isn’t going to help you get revenge.”

He laughs. “I don’t care about revenge. These last few weeks I’ve done nothing but regret what I did, I felt like a complete asshole for coming onto you like I did. But you liked it.” He clicks his tongue. He scoots all the way over and props himself up, grasping your hips and forcing you into his lap, straddling his legs. “And maybe now I won’t feel so guilty for wanting more…” he rakes your body with his eyes, slowly moving them up until he makes eye contact with you. “I don’t remember very much, but I remember how good you felt. How tight you were. Haven’t thought about anything else but you squirming while I give you more.” He grasps your hips and you can’t help it, moving them back and forth into him. The way he talks to you- it’s too much.

“I.. you’re not doing this with me just because you’re mad at her, right?” He can see that you’re nervous. “No sweetheart. Trust me, been holding myself back for a while now.” His voice is barely above a whisper. He reaches for his zipper once more, tugging his cock through the hole. He glides his hand up his cock, rubbing his thumb over the fat tip. You swallow hard.

He’s stone cold sober now, and you’re more nervous than ever.

Thank god his windows are tinted like this.

“You want to feel me?” He mumbles. His eyes are dark, full of lust. You mind your head. “Here.” He reaches for your pants, helping you get at least one leg out of them, tugging your panties to the side like he’d done to your shorts a couple weeks ago. “S’alright. Nothing to be nervous about.” He mumbles. Raising you up so that you could line him up with your entrance. “I know I didn’t treat you right before. Don’t think I even made you cum..” he laughs. “So selfish of me, I’ll make it up to you.” He leans in, attacking your neck. Feeling him on you, inside of you. You tilt your head back as you sink further and further down into him, until your thighs relax and give out as he fills you up. They shiver slightly but as he forces you to rock back and forth you sit up. You keep your head tilted back as you raise yourself up, then back down. Picking up the speed as you ride him.

“Oh fuck-“ he breathes. You clutch the seat, moving your hips back and forth on his. His eyes are dark and glossy as he watches you, you’re not looking at him so you don’t see the admiration he has for you, but it’s there. His eyes flash to your chest and he pushes your shirt up over your breasts, tugging your bra down and tugging one of your nipples between his lips, sucking at it. You shake on him, the pleasure he’s giving you is unmatched. “Fuck.. oh fuck.” You whine. You’re panting above him. “Fuck baby, get in the back.” He mumbles.

You slide off of him and he groans out, you climb over the center console and into the back seat. He follows quickly. You lay back on the seat and he moves himself between your legs. Feeling him there again is foreign. Something you never saw happening ever again. He slides back inside of you, his cock parting your folds and filling you up.

He looks down at you, that same look in his eyes. You can’t deny the passion the both of you share. He grips your thighs as he starts thrusting inside of you at a bruising pace. “You look so good underneath me.” He breathes. He raises up one of your legs, lining kisses along your calf. You close your eyes relishing in the pleasure he’s giving you. Feeling chills rise on every inch of your skin. You never realized just how fit he was, he always tried to be modest around you. Always wearing a shirt and shorts while you’re around. His stomach is toned and his arms are big and muscular. No wonder he can move you with so much ease. You clench your eyes shut, panting out. The knot in your stomach is getting tighter, about to unravel. The closer you get, the more uncontrollable your moans become. He knows you’re almost there. Your thighs shiver as he fucks you, deep and hard. You didn’t know what you could be missing out on, but he’s showing you.

He glides his hand over your bare stomach, shirt still pulled up. “Such a good girl for me.” He growls. His hand moves further and further up, his hand resting on your throat. He rests it there but doesn’t put much pressure there. “You trust me?” He asks. You nod your head. “Don’t freak out, m’gonna make you feel really good.” He applies pressure to your throat, and your eyes widen just slightly, apprehension apparent in your gaze. But you don’t stop him. You bring your hand up to rest on his wrist and look up at him. Your eyes are glossed over like his. He applies more and more pressure until you close your eyes. Skin flushing crimson. He applies just enough pressure, sending you somewhere else.

He lowers his other hand, thumbing your clit. Your lips part, and when you cum, your entire body shakes and convulses but he keeps his hand there. Cutting off your oxygen. Only when your high is ridden out does he let go, hearing you suck in a harsh breath of air. You’re panting, breathing in the air like it’s limited. One more thrust from him and he’s hissing out, hips bucking into you. You cry out at the overstimulation, but he relaxes his hips, resting his forehead on your chest. You look up at the ceiling of his truck, eyes wide. You have never cum that hard in your life.

He rests for a minute, regaining his breath and you do the same. You’ll for sure have bruises around your throat but you think you’ll like to see them the following day.

“Sorry if I was too rough.” He finally draws away from you. You blush, looking down. “No… no you weren’t I liked it.” You breathe.

“Still got the whole day ahead of us. Still got time to go to the mall.” He shrugs. A smile on his lips. “You don’t have to buy me stuff.”

He laughs. “You look like you haven’t had new shoes in ages Y/N. Let me take care of you.”

“You know you have no obligation like that to me.. you don’t have to do that.”

He shakes his head. “I don’t have to do anything, but I want to do this.”

“Can I at least get cleaned up first?” You blush. He shakes his head. “No. I like the thought of you walking around with my cum dripping down your legs.” He smirks.

“Jesus Christ.” You mumble. “I’m kidding, yeah. I’ve got to get new locks anyways. I meant what I said though.” He stops you just as you’re about to get out of his truck. “I want you to stay here, with me. You just got used to me, no reason you should have to go and get used to some other guy, alright?” You nod your head. “Thank you Phillip.” You smile. He grasps your chin, forcing you to look up at him, leaning into you. He presses his lips to yours, something he realizes he hasn’t done just yet.

When he finally lets you go, he watches you as you walk up the front porch.

He’s going to have to deal with your mom later, but that price is right for you. You’re a good girl and he can take good care of you, despite your age gap.

You’re his now. Wether your mom likes it or not.

[chvoswxtch]

please don't be mad

pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader

summary: matt’s run in with his ex has you questioning everything about your relationship, and he’s determined to prove himself to you.

warnings: cursing, lots of angst, fluffy ending, matty being a typical dumbass, explicit sexual content (minors dni)

word count: 7.2k

a/n: psa, I am not an elektra anti. I would happily fuck her too. this is once again purely selfish matty content I couldn’t get out of my head. a huge thank you to my darling @yourbucky084 for beta reading, helping edit & providing such helpful feedback.  also a big thank you to @pleasurebuttonwrites for helping me figure out what the fuck is behind matty’s bed for this fic lmao. I appreciate you both so much! as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

[part two]

It felt like I had been staring at the wall in the darkness for hours. My body was aching, begging me to move from my current position lying on my side that I had been stubbornly stuck in for the past forty five minutes, but under absolutely no circumstances would I turn over. I would deal with my body’s stiffness tomorrow. I had tried, and failed, several times to get my brain to just shut off. I silently pleaded for the sweet blanket of unconsciousness to wash over me so that I could get a break from all the noise in my head. Tonight was the worst night to be an insomniac.

“Angel?”

I squeezed my eyes shut when I heard his low voice cut through the silence. Asshole. He knew the effect that his voice had on me, especially at that volume. I tried my hardest to get my aggravated breathing under control to a slow, steady pace. My heart was the one that wouldn’t cooperate. It was still thudding angrily against my chest. I heard a deep sigh cut through the darkness and a rustling of sheets behind me.

“Sweetheart, I know you’re not asleep.”

I felt the bed dip beside me as he turned onto his side to face my back. Despite the coldness of the bedroom, I could feel the heat radiating off his body. Normally, we’d be tangled up together. I always slept best with my head on his chest, leg slung lazily over his hips, completely wrapped up in his arms and warmth. But tonight, I wanted to be as far away from him as possible. 

“Honey, please.”

I grit my teeth and flung the covers off my body, shivering slightly as the awaiting cold nipped at my exposed skin and caused goosebumps to appear everywhere. I gripped onto my pillow and ripped it off the bed, hastily rounding the corner towards the refuge of the living room.

“Goodnight, Matthew.”

Before I had a chance to slide the door open, Matt was on his feet and in front of me in a flash. He gently wrapped his arm around my wrist to halt my movements and firmly grabbed onto my hip to hold me in place.

“Y/N…you’re not sleeping on the couch, come on.”

“Fine. You are.”

I shoved the pillow roughly against Matt’s bare chest, grabbing the handle on the door and sliding it back so hard into the track it nearly made the entire apartment shake. Matt winced at the sound, squinting his eyes and turning his head away from the door. Normally I would have felt bad about the noise considering his sensitive hearing, but tonight I didn’t really give a fuck about his comfort. He sighed deeply as he tossed the pillow onto the bed and took a step towards me.

“Sweetheart, I really don’t want to go to bed angry. Please.”

“Well maybe you should’ve thought of that earlier Matthew, before you hooked up with your ex at a fucking party and tried to lie about it.”

“Y/N that’s...that’s not what happened. I told you, we just kissed…and I explained why.”

“Right, and I’m supposed to just take your word for it? After you’ve told me how many lies tonight Matthew?”

“I didn’t-”

“You blew me and Foggy off because you said you had an ‘important meeting’ with your special ‘client’. And then you come through that door, wearing a disheveled tux, with the collar covered in red lipstick I might add, and I find out you actually went to a gala with her.”

“Because she had a lead about information that could help take down the Yakuza!”

I had been seeing violent shades of red ever since Matt walked through the front door. I was pissed when I saw that he was wearing a tux, which was not what he had left Foggy and I’s company in, but the second I spotted the lipstick on his collar, I was fucking livid. Matt must have sensed the shift in my emotions because he immediately pulled off his glasses and raised his hands up slowly in surrender, quickly spitting out an “I can explain”.

My blood only began to boil at the mention of her name. Elektra. Matt had reluctantly, and very briefly, told me about her one night when we had first started dating. The gaps that he left, Foggy unenthusiastically filled in later on. He very clearly had not been a fan of hers, and I grew to understand why.

The more I learned about her, the more my disdain grew for the way she treated Matt. The way she left him..and what she had tried to do to him..what she had tried to make him do before she disappeared. I couldn’t believe he would actually want to be around her again after everything she had put him through. She had almost ruined his life, and after that night, he said he never wanted to speak about her again. I didn’t press it. I didn’t want to upset him, and honestly I didn’t care if I ever heard her name again. All I wanted to do was make up for her faults, and show Matt how much he deserved to be loved. I promised him that I would always accept him for exactly who he was. I never once tried to change him. Not like her.

I was beyond incandescent when her name so easily rolled off his tongue. I had been seething all night since his earlier confession. I was pissed she’d had the audacity to show up after all these years just to torment him all over again. But mainly, I was outraged at Matt for letting her, and for lying to me about it. When he finally came clean about being Daredevil, he swore he would never lie again, no matter what. While anger coursed through my veins, there were hints of hurt and betrayal that made every rush sting even more.

“And that makes it all okay?”

“No, of course it doesn’t. I just..I need you to understand that’s all it was, okay? A mission. That’s it. The last thing I ever wanted was to see her again, but she had something I needed. Something that could help me actually get rid of them, for good this time. I couldn’t pass that up. They’re too dangerous.”

“Then why did you lie about it? If that’s all it was, why couldn’t you tell me the truth? Why couldn’t you tell Foggy the truth?”

Matt averted his head downwards, placing both of his hands on his hips as he stood there silently. His lips parted slightly, taking in a deep breath as if the words he was searching for would be laced within the oxygen hitting his lungs.

“I don’t know. I just..I didn’t want to start a fight. I’m sorry. Please…don’t be mad.”

That rage that had been brewing inside me ever since he walked through that door was suddenly bubbling like molten lava, and I was about to fucking erupt. I grabbed the closest thing on the nightstand and flung it directly at Matt’s head. I knew it wouldn’t actually hit him, not that I really wanted to, but I couldn’t think straight through all my fury. He dodged the vase just in time as the ceramic shattered in cataclysmic pieces against the wall, shock written evidently all over his features by my uncharacteristic outburst.

“Mad? You think I’m mad? I’m fucking furious, Matthew! There aren’t words strong enough for how I feel right now. You lied. Again. And I’m supposed to, what, just be okay with it? Just be okay with the fact that you’re dressing up and running around New York with your ex to lavish galas because it’s for the greater fucking good?”

“Sweetheart, it was just for information, okay? I swear. Look by the time we found the ledger, they already knew we were there. We snuck a floor down and pretended to be a lost drunk couple so that we didn’t get shot. It was strictly a distraction. If they had found us and figured out what we were actually doing, they would’ve killed us.”

“Well if she’s so fucking impressive, why didn’t she go by herself? She didn’t need you there, she wanted you there. And you willingly went. You could have said no.”

Matt ran a hand through his messy brown hair, clearly annoyed that I wasn’t seeing things his way, and rubbed his palm across the stubble on his right cheek. He dropped his hands to place them on his hips once again and shook his head slowly, pointing his chin in my direction.

“You’re right. I should’ve said no. I should’ve let her go alone, and I should’ve told you the truth from the beginning. I just…I really didn’t want to start a fight.”

“I’m done fighting with you, Matthew.”

I felt completely drained, like all the life had been sucked out of me steadily ever since he walked through that door. Our fight earlier was explosive, definitely the worst one we’ve ever had. One of the only ones we’ve ever had. I thought it had depleted all of my energy, but the way he kept trying to justify his actions kept fueling the fire. I was tired of being lied to. I was tired of him disregarding my feelings about this whole situation, and not even trying to understand why I felt the way I did. I was tired of feeling like I had to fight to keep my place in his life. I don’t even remember why I agreed to stay over at his place tonight. I should’ve just gone home.

“Don’t...don’t say that. Please. Your voice makes it sound like you’re giving up.”

“Maybe I am Matthew. This was a mistake. I’m going home.”

“No…no no no. Don’t say things like that, please. Look don’t…don’t go. Please, Y/N. It’s late and you’re upset and I...I don’t want you out walking the streets alone right now-”

“I don’t really care what you want right now.”

Matt quickly snatched my overnight bag out of my hands as soon as I reached for it and tossed it across the room with annoying accuracy. I futilely shoved at his chest when he grabbed onto my arms and pulled me in close, but it was no use. He was a lot stronger than I was, and on top of that I was exhausted. I didn’t have any fight left in me for tonight, and there was no escaping the cage of his embrace.

“Please let go.”

“I can’t. I can’t, sweetheart. I need you, please. Look I fucked up, okay? I know that. I fucked up and I’m so sorry. I know you’re probably sick of hearing me say that, but I am. Just...please don’t leave. I love you, Y/N. Let me..let me make it up to you. Let me show you how much I love you.”

My eyes widened as the words dripping with suggestion left his mouth. I tilted my head back and stared up at him dumbfounded, a humorless laugh leaving my lips as I managed to find a surge of strength to push as hard as I could at Matt’s chest and finally shove him backwards.

“Are you fucking joking? You have some goddamn balls, Matthew Murdock. Are you seriously asking me for sex right now? You think that’s gonna fix this?”

“I’m not asking, I’m offering. I know you need it.”

“You don’t know anything. What the hell makes you think I want anything to do with you right now? Why would I even want to kiss you, knowing all I’m going to be able to taste is her.”

Matthew Murdock was one cocky son of a bitch, and his audacity never ceased to amaze me. He clenched his jaw slightly as spite flowed from my lips, hands balling up into tight fists at his sides as he let out a controlled deep breath. His features morphed into an expression of distress as he took slow calculated steps closer towards me and inhaled, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment. His eyes were a shade darker when they opened and his tongue quickly darted out to swipe across his bottom lip as he squared his shoulders. I knew that look, and it caused a shiver to cascade down my spine. 

“Then why don’t you let me have a taste, hm? I don’t want you to taste anything else on my tongue except yourself. I don’t want to taste anything else but you.”

Matt tilted his head to the side slightly, his blank honey eyes fixated right in my direction, trying to sense anything that would give me away. He waited silently to taste the effect of his words in the air as they began to seep from my core, and feel the rise of heat that flushed across my chest and the tops of my cheeks. He waited for the anger to dissipate into desire. Matt Murdock was not a very patient man, but the Devil of Hell’s Kitchen was when it came to outsmarting his prey. He set the trap, and waited for me to fall into it. He knew I would. It had been too long, and he knew me too damn well. Matt always knew how to melt the icy barrier I hid beneath, rendering me a needy puddle in his capable hands. The twitch of his jaw and fleeting uptick of his lips let me know he had gotten exactly what he was waiting for.

“I can smell you, sweetheart. Your need...your want. It’s palpable. I can feel it in my own veins. I can practically taste you from here. It’s been what…two weeks? Two weeks since I’ve touched you. I haven’t been paying attention to you like I should have been. I haven’t been very good to you lately. I’ve been neglecting you, and I’m so sorry for that. Please...let me make up for it. Use me.”

Use me.

My mouth suddenly felt dry as it clicked in my brain exactly what he meant. Matt knew what he was doing. I was a sucker for his voice, especially when he used his “devil” voice on me, and he never hesitated to use it to his advantage. He knew it would make me crumble. It always did. He knew exactly how to get what he wanted, how to win. He masked every single one of his sinful words behind that velvet voice, and I loved it. Matt took my silence as an invitation to move even closer, his voice becoming dangerously low as he spoke.

“You don’t have to touch me. You can have my fingers, my mouth, whatever you want. I can feel how frustrated you are. I know how badly you need this. So let me help. Take it all out on me. Use me, sweetheart.”

I felt like I was being pulled in a million different directions in my head. A tiny, logical piece of my brain wanted me to smack him. It was yelling at me to not give in. To instead tell him to fuck off, get my things, and just go. The other part of my brain wanted me to just call it a night. Just let go of all the anger, try to get some sleep, and discuss the future of our relationship in the morning when we were both level headed. But both of those thoughts were completely drowned out by the ache beginning to throb uncomfortably between my thighs.

I was just as sexually frustrated as I was...well...regularly frustrated. I couldn’t remember the last time Matt had kissed me, or touched me, or even told me he loved me. He had been so busy lately, I felt like we only saw each other in passing like forgotten ships in the night. My body yearned for him. He knew it better than anyone, sometimes even better than I did. He always knew what I needed. 

My renegade eyes traveled over Matt’s exposed muscular chest as I got lost in my inner turmoil, paying extra attention to how his sweatpants and briefs hung treacherously low on his hips. I had spent so many moments mapping out every inch of his skin and every visible scar with my fingers and tongue. If I focused really hard, I could feel the tautness of his abs on my fingertips from whenever he got close to releasing in my mouth. I could hear the gravel in his voice as he whispered vivid dirty details of his plans for me into my ear. I could taste the tanginess of my own release on his lips as he kissed me after bringing me to climax with his skilled tongue.

I felt a warm rush of arousal pool between my thighs. The soft groan that exuded from Matt’s lips let me know he had noticed it. He always knew when I was wet for him. I could never hide from him. His tongue swiped along his bottom lip as he stared just above me, his fists tightening at his sides so hard his bruised knuckles were stark white. I know he wanted nothing more than to rush forward and take me, fuck it all out, and beg for forgiveness when he finally sent me over the edge...but he stayed still. Matt had always been the dominant one in our relationship, and I liked it that way. I never knew I could find so much freedom in completely giving myself over to someone. I trusted Matt. I loved when he took control. I craved being submissive to him, so much so that it would have been embarrassing if it weren’t so fucking satisfying. I didn’t know if I had it in me to be the one in control, especially not with the headspace I was in. I was desperately grasping at the frayed edges of my anger, but the way he was staring at me with those ravenous wild eyes had me letting go without a second thought.

“I..I don’t..I’m not sure if I..”

Matt reached out to gently take my hand into his, brushing his thumb over the back of my knuckles and giving it a soft squeeze. Somehow he always understood me, even when I couldn’t get the words out. He just knew. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll help you. I got you, sweetheart.”

Matt slowly sunk down onto his knees in front of me, head tilted back to keep his gaze up towards my face. I felt my breath hitch in my throat as he hooked his index fingers under the seam of my panties, pulling them down my legs carefully as he brushed his fingers tenderly along the back of my knee and the side of my calf. He turned his head slightly to place a chaste kiss to my inner thigh and I felt him smile against my skin when I let out an involuntary whine. He tapped my ankle lightly to signal for me to step out of my panties, balling them up into his hand and shoving them into the pocket of his sweatpants. 

Matt placed several more scorching kisses up the expanse of my legs and over my thighs as he slowly rose up from his knees, towering over me once he stood to his full height. He gestured his head towards the bed and began to walk backwards.

“Come here.”

I watched him in confusion as he took his place on the bed, glancing down at the spot on the floor in front of me where he had just been.

“What…what um...”

“You’re gonna ride my face.”

I nearly choked on my own spit, my eyes widening in shock as I watched Matt move to lay flat on his back on the mattress. Matt Murdock was no stranger to eating me out. Sometimes I think he enjoyed it almost as much as I did. There were times I had to practically pry him away, nearly in tears from overstimulation because he just kept going and going and going. He’d had his face buried between my thighs countless times, but never like that.

“W-What?”

“You’re gonna sit on my face, you’re gonna ride my tongue until you come, and you’re gonna keep going until you feel satisfied. If you wanna go all fucking night, we will. You don’t stop until you get what you need.”

Even though he was offering to let me take control, there was still a dominant edge to his voice that made my knees weak. Matt reached his hand out for me to take, his eyes blankly moving back and forth as he waited to sense my presence come near. I was frozen with apprehension. I wanted it, God did I want it, but I was nervous. I had seen a picture of Elektra once. We looked nothing alike, figure wise. I had a very curvy figure. I had wider hips and thick thighs, and while I knew Matt was very strong, I also knew I would die of embarrassment if I had to explain how I nearly suffocated my boyfriend from trying to ride his face for the first time.

“Don’t.”

“What?”

I blinked a few times as I stared over at Matt, taking a few cautious steps forward until I stood next to the bed. I reached out slowly to grab onto his hand and swallowed thickly when he tugged me closer, pressing a reassuring kiss to each of my knuckles.

“Don’t think so hard. Just come here and let me make you feel better, please.”

I tried to let go of all my trepidation with a deep exhale, capturing my bottom lip between my teeth as I climbed up onto the bed. I let go of Matt’s hand momentarily to pull my oversized sleep shirt over my head so that it wouldn’t get in the way. I swung my leg over Matt’s waist and straddled his chest. He quickly grabbed onto my hips and pulled me up further with impressive speed, causing me to gasp and brace my hands against the wall.

“Jesus, Matt. Slow down.”

“Sorry, I’m sorry. I just...fuck...can you get up here? Please, baby?”

I wasn’t used to Matt sounding so needy. That was usually my role. I was always the one begging for him…begging for more. Hearing how desperately he wanted to taste me sent a tidal wave of lust dripping down my thighs, and Matt growled lowly in his throat at that. His fingertips dug roughly into the soft flesh of my thighs and his hips bucked upwards slightly. I stared down at him in awe, feeling an overwhelming sense of pride and confidence from the way he was reacting. 

“Sweetheart...please...I’m begging you. Let me make you come until you can’t walk. Come on angel...be a good girl for me and come ride my face, yeah? Let me show you how much I want you. Only want you.”

Between his strained begging and the way he moved his head to get closer to where I was soaked, I couldn’t take it anymore. My pussy seemed to have a mind of its own because before I could stop myself, I was settling my knees on either side of Matt’s head and bracing my hands onto the wall to steady myself, preparing to lower myself languidly. Matt however had other plans. In an instant, Matt had a bruising iron grip on my thighs and had roughly pulled my soaking cunt down on his face. One of my hands immediately flew down to grip at his hair as I moaned loudly when I felt his tongue slip inside me. Matthew Murdock was extremely talented with his mouth, which made him an exceptional lawyer, but an even more sensational lover. 

His mouth was so warm as he ravaged me, and I felt myself already having a difficult time staying upright. Matt’s large hand came down hard against my ass and I cried out as it surged me forward, the action causing his nose to bump divinely against my clit as his tongue explored my pussy like it was the first time all over again. It took one more slap for me to get the hint and I slowly started to move my hips against his face. The muffled moan of approval that sounded beneath me only spurred me on to roll my hips back and forth delicately like an easy tide. I gripped tightly onto Matt’s hair and tugged hard which caused a groan to reverberate enticingly against my clit. 

I could feel him moving slightly around on the bed behind me and glanced over my shoulder to see him rolling his hips upwards into the air in time with my own pace. I could see the perfect outline of his impressive cock as it strained against the barrier of his sweatpants. There was already a wet patch forming which drove me even more crazy. He was really fucking enjoying this. It never failed to turn me on even further seeing how much Matt got off to getting me off.

My breaths became more jagged and struggled to be released from my chest the closer I got to the edge. I should’ve felt pathetic about being so close to coming undone so quickly, but it had been weeks. I whined loudly as I began to grind my hips down back and forth on his tongue, welcoming the burn of his facial hair rubbing roughly against my inner thighs. I had gotten so used to his touch that I felt like I was completely starving after two weeks without it. I hadn’t even bothered trying to get myself off because I knew it would be no use. I couldn’t come without Matt, not since the first night I let him touch me and make himself at home between my thighs. Nothing compared to him.

“M-Matty...oh god...please...”

Matt clamped both of his large hands down on my thighs to hold me in place, wrapping his plump lips around my swollen clit to suck on it feverishly. I could feel him moaning against my core and it only brought me closer and closer to where I wanted to be. It was so close...so fucking close. My entire body felt tense with anticipation as I waited impatiently to be tossed over the edge into pure ecstasy. It felt like a rubber band within me was being stretched impossibly thin, and I just needed it to fucking snap already. 

“Maaaatty…please please please..”

I don’t even know what I was asking for, but he knew. He always knew. Matt granted me mercy as he quickened the pace of his tongue, flickering over my clit like a flame trying to withstand the wind. He gently bit down on my sensitive nub, causing me to explode with pure bliss. I rocked my hips against his face messily as I kept my tight grip on his hair. A high pitched whine left my lips when I felt a growl rip through his chest as I finally came into his mouth. I glanced down just in time to see his eyes nearly roll into the back of his head from my taste hitting his tongue, a satisfied primal groan resonating against my core. Matt wouldn’t let me budge until he greedily lapped up every drop of nectar my body had to offer. My thighs shook aggressively as I tried to ride out one of the most powerful orgasms I’d ever had. My body felt entirely too heavy, and the only reason I hadn’t collapsed was because Matt was still holding me up. He detached his lips just for a split second, baring his teeth in menacing snarl.

“Go for another one, sweetheart. I told you…we can stay here all fucking night.”

I glanced down to see the lower half of Matt’s face completely coated in my glimmering wetness. His lips were swollen and red, a sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead, panting as he tried desperately to catch his own breath. His hair was sticking up in odd directions from my hazardous gripping and his eyes were blown open so wide, I could see the devil in them, waiting for me to unlock his chains. I whimpered as I felt his tongue teasing at my folds, trying my hardest to pull away from his eager mouth.

“I..I c-can’t..ah fuck Matty…please…let me down...please...”

Matt grabbed onto my hips and lifted me up gently, helping me onto my back on the spot right beside him. My body was still trembling with aftershocks of pleasure when I felt the warm weight of his body on top of mine. His lips left a burning trail of kisses down the column of my neck, between the valley of my breasts, and along my lower stomach. I whined when I felt his warm breath wavering against my clit.

“Shh...let me take care of you, sweetheart. I’ll do all the work. Just lay back and let me make it better.”

“Matty...please. I just want you, please.”

I hadn’t forgiven him. I was still hurt and angry, and there was so much we needed to talk about. But right now, I just needed him. I needed to feel him. I needed to feel our bodies connected together, like they belonged to one another. I needed him to tell me everything would be okay as he held my hand and made love to me. I needed to know he was still mine. 

I could feel tears pricking at the corners of my eyes as he hovered over me and I grabbed onto his face to pull him down in a searing kiss. I could feel him sigh in content and relief against my mouth, sliding his hand under my back to pull me up closer so that could press our chests together. I could feel his heartbeat thundering against my own in a perfect symphony. As I pushed at the waistband of his sweatpants, he gently grabbed onto my wrist and broke the kiss to lean his forehead against mine.

“Sweetheart, I told you…you don’t have to touch me.”

“I need to, Matty. I need it, please. I need you.”

Matt stilled at my sobbing plea and brought one of his large hands up to brush the scattered tears away with his thumb, cupping my cheek in his hand as he gazed down at me in pure concern.

“Angel, what’s wrong? Talk to me. Was it too much? Do I need to stop?”

“No...no please don’t. I just...I need you, Matty. I need you here.”

“I am here, sweetheart.”

“I need you to stay here. You can’t...you can’t just ignore me for two weeks and then run off with someone else, Matt. You can’t do that to me...especially not with her. So...if this is it, then I want-”

“Hey, no. This is not it. Don’t talk like that. Listen to me...I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m so sorry. I’ll never do that again, I swear. You mean everything to me, alright? I’m not going anywhere, sweet girl. I’m right here. And I don’t want you to worry about her. She’s on the first flight out of New York in the morning, okay? She’s not coming back. It’s just you and me, my love. I’m right here. I love you.”

“Then show me.”

I didn’t wait for him as I braced my palms against his broad chest and pushed with all the strength I had left, rising up onto my knees as I pushed him down onto his back. I ignored his faint protests, grabbing at the waistband of his briefs and sweatpants to tug them down in one swift motion as quickly as possible. I pressed my palm hard against his chest to keep him down when he tried to sit up, climbing onto his lap and positioning myself over his impatient cock. The tip was swollen with lust and weeping with need, standing proudly at attention above his stomach, waiting for me. I didn’t take my time to slowly lower myself down like I normally did. No matter how many times Matt had been inside me, ruined me, I always had to adjust to his size. 

We both cried out in unison when I sank down completely, and his hands flew up to seize my hips. Being on top always required the most accommodation, but I loved having him like this. I could feel him everywhere. All I wanted was to be completely filled to the brim and consumed entirely by him. I winced as the sting of my walls being stretched to their limits pierced through my lower half. 

“Fuck, sweetheart. Easy easy…don’t hurt yourself. We can take it slow-fuck!”

I ignored every single one of Matt’s words as I sat up straight and began to swivel my hips in purposeful circles. It burned, God did it burn, but I wanted it. I wanted it all. I didn’t know if I believed Matt’s words. I didn’t know if the love he had for me would ever compare to what he had felt for her, what he might still feel for her. I didn’t know that I believed tonight wasn’t it for us. But all that I wanted was a reminder, that this had been real. That Matt had been real, and he had been mine. I would take the pain willingly if it meant I’d be able to feel him for the next few days. I’d happily be haunted by the ache he left between my thighs to remind myself that this was real.

Every drawn out moan of my name that rang in my ears, every breathless pant, every plea of oh my god and every praise of fuck sweetheart kept me moving even though I felt like my legs were seconds away from giving up. I threw my head back towards the heavens, hoping God would understand my prayers and what I needed through the form of Matt’s name. On my knees above him, I prayed. And I prayed and I prayed and I prayed. 

I didn’t know if the tears falling freely down my cheeks were from being pushed to my limit physically, or mentally, but I cried out when Matt sat up fully to wipe them away from my cheeks, reaching farther inside me than I ever thought possible. I whined when I felt his hand wrap delicately around my throat, his thumb and index finger holding my chin in a firm grasp as he captured my lips. 

“Shh…it’s alright sweetheart. I’m here. I’m right here. Doing so well for me, angel. Always so good to me. Let me take care of you.”

Matt brought my arms up to wrap around his neck, grabbing my hips gently to flip our bodies over and lay me down into the sanctuary of silk covered pillows. He pulled my legs tightly around his waist, locking his own hips in place against mine. One hand came up to intertwine our fingers together, squeezing my hand in reassurance as he placed his other forearm directly beside my head. Pressing our foreheads together, brushing his nose and lips against mine, Matt began to oscillate his hips at a tender speed, allowing me to feel every detailed stroke of him against my tight walls.

“My perfect girl. Can’t you feel how perfect we fit together, Y/N? Can’t you feel how perfect you are for me?”

I couldn’t handle the vulnerability in his featherlight whispers. It tugged so hard on the strings of my heart, I thought they might snap. I tried to whisper his name, respond with something coherent, but all I could manage was a needy whimper. Matt let go of my hand for just a second, slipping his own between our bodies to press down on the bulge in my lower stomach.

“You can feel me here, can’t you sweetheart?”

I grabbed onto the back of his neck urgently, digging my nails into the muscle of his upper back to anchor him in place. I tried to nod, tried to hide my face into the refuge of his neck to escape his inexorable gaze, but he wasn’t having any of that. Matt’s hand was quickly covering my throat again, his hold on my chin a little tighter this time, forcing my eyes to meet his.

“I am not going anywhere. Nothing could ever take me away from you. Not her, not Fisk, no one. Not even God himself could keep me from you.”

His caramel coated eyes were staring so hard down into mine, it knocked the breath out of me. For a second, I felt like Matt could actually see me. His stare only grew in intensity as his thrusts became more precise. 

“Listen to me, sweetheart. You are mine. And I am yours. We belong to no one else, but each other. I’m gonna marry you someday, Y/N. Someday soon. I want nothing more than for you to be my wife, my perfect girl. My angel. There’s no one else I want by my side for the rest of my life. No one else who understands me better than you do. No one else that accepts me like you do. No one else that’s as good to me as you are. I will do whatever it takes to prove that to you. I will put a ring on your finger tomorrow. I will put a baby in you tonight.”

A sharp gasp mixed with a breathless moan echoed from my lips at Matt’s words. I knew Matt wanted to get married someday, and I always hoped it would be to me. We had very briefly had a conversation about kids once. He knew that I wanted them, and said that he did too. Someday. While marriage I knew we could make work, I wasn’t sure about the kids part. I didn’t know if I could handle having a child with him when he still needed the other side of him, and I didn’t know if he would ever know when he wouldn’t need that side of him anymore. It was a tricky conversation I wasn’t ready to try and navigate. I didn’t want to risk losing Matt, and I would never ask him to give up something that was so important to him. But the conviction in his voice, the certainty of his words, made me lightheaded. Matt tilted his head to the side slightly, a sense of recognition softening his gaze as a light smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“That what you want, sweetheart? Hm? That what you need? Taking my last name and growing our baby inside you to remind you every day that I’m yours?”

“Matty…”

“You want all of me, don’t you angel? C’mon, tell me. Tell me you want all of me.”

“I…God, Matty…want all of you, please.”

“I love you, Y/N. You love me, don’t you? C’mon baby, tell me you love me.”

“I love you, Matty. I, oh God, love you so much…”

“Say you’ll marry me. Gonna ask properly, I promise, but I need to hear you say it. Tell me, sweetheart.”

“Yes Matty…yes I’ll marry you.”

I knew Matt was listening intently to my heartbeat with every answer that spilled from me, searching for any falter in rhythm that would tell him I wasn’t telling the truth. That I was just obeying his orders. But I wasn’t lying. I meant every word. I knew that Matt knew that from the mouth splitting grin that took over his entire face.

“That’s my girl. My perfect girl. Now, tell me I can come inside. We can start our family tonight, sweetheart. C’mon, tell me you want it, and you’ll be pregnant before the sun comes up. Let me hear it, angel.”

“Please Matty, please. Please come inside me. I want our family. I want it all. Please Matty, make me yours.”

Matt tightened his grip slightly on my throat, silencing my cries of pleasure with his lips. His pace remained gentle and loving, but his thrusts were powerful and meticulous, relentlessly hitting that spot inside me that had me swimming in constellations that appeared behind my eyelids every single time. It didn’t take much longer for me to plunge from the peak of exhilaration, free falling into uninhibited gratification below that was completely and irrevocably Matt.

I felt tingles sparking throughout my extremities as my body spasmed in rolling blackouts of delectation, causing my walls to clench unforgivably around Matt’s cock. I could feel the rhythm of his hips stuttering into short, staccato bursts as he finally reached his own crescendo. The pure satisfaction entangled in the legato moans of his climax wrapped around me like a warm blanket, lulling me into a state of ease. For the first time all night, joy buzzed in my bloodstream, and I was able to silence the roaring of my insecurity.

Matt was here. Matt loved me. Matt was mine.

I hugged him as close and tightly to my chest as I could, refusing to unlock my legs from around his waist when I felt him start to pull back.

“Don’t, please. Just stay. Just wanna stay like this.”

Matt pressed a soft kiss to my forehead and allowed his lips to linger there for a moment before marking my nose, cheeks, and lips in his adoration. He nuzzled his head into my neck and I felt him inhale my scent deeply before sighing in content.

“Alright, sweetheart. We can stay like this.”

I basked in the comfortable silence for a moment, allowing my brain to process every single one of Matt’s words. I felt a childlike sense of giddiness, like when you were a kid and you knew you were getting the exact gift you wanted for Christmas. You had peeked, and spoiled it for yourself, but still felt unfiltered excitement anyway. The gift itself didn’t matter as much as the feeling of knowing that it was what you wanted and it was yours. 

Matt Murdock was my gift. The one thing I always wanted, the only thing that mattered, that was all mine.

I threaded my fingers lightly through his hair, occasionally massaging at his scalp and smiling at the hums of gratitude that vibrated against my neck. 

“Matty?”

“Hm?”

“You know I’m still on birth control, right?”

“I know, sweetheart. It doesn’t hurt to start practicing though, does it?”

I could feel his smile against my skin. If I closed my eyes, I could see it. I knew exactly which one it was. I couldn’t help but giggle at his response, tightening my arms around his back.

“Well, if that’s the case, then we’ve been practicing for over a year Matty. Sometimes several times a day.”

Matt pulled his head back just enough so that he could face me, bumping his nose against my own as a devilish grin stretched across his soft lips.

“I like to be prepared.”

[morbific-or-felicific]

-AGNOSTHESIA PART 2 Featuring Scaramouche & Kazuha

Part 1 Part 2

Meaning: The state of not knowing how you really feel about something, which forces you to sift through clues hidden in your behaviour, as if you were some other person

Word Count: 2k~

Description: A study session at Scaramouche’s dorm end with you getting fucked my him and his roommate(Kazuha)

Edited By: @pretty-princess-peach

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You were shivering slightly as you knocked on the door. It was pouring outside, and you had gotten absolutely soaked when you had run over to your boyfriend's dorm building for your study session. You would have grabbed an umbrella or something, but you thought you would be fine with just a hoodie.

Scaramouche opened the door and somehow already looked upset.

“Do you not own an umbrella?”

“I didn’t think I would need it…”

“You’re an idiot. You know that, right?”

“Shut up and let her in, Scaramouche.”

Kazuha was sitting on the couch reading and apparently didn’t feel like dealing with Scaramouche’s idiocy. Scaramouche rolled his eyes and moved aside so you could come in, and Kazuha returned to his book. You set down your bag by one of the couches, and another shiver ran through you. Your boyfriend sighed.

“You’re going to get sick. Go get in the shower. I’ll put some clothes in the bathroom for you.”

He didn’t even give you a chance to respond. He just went to his room to look for something dry for you to wear. You sighed. You didn’t really have a choice, and he was probably right anyway, so you made your way to the bathroom without any protest.

Scaramouche was definitely right. The warm water was making you feel a lot better. As the water flowed down your body, you looked around the shower. You had showered at their dorm before, but every time, the duality of the products in there cracked you up. There was Scaramouche’s two-in-one shampoo and conditioner along with his two-in-one face and body wash. Then there was Kazuha's array of colour protecting hair products, hair masks, exfoliating scrubs, and an almost empty bottle of red hair dye that had no business being in the shower.

When you were done warming up, you got out of the shower and dried off your hair the best you could before putting on the pair of sweatpants and the t-shirt that was miraculously too big for you. Then you hung up all of your clothes, as well as your bra, on the shower curtain rod to dry before heading back to the living room.

Kazuha was sitting in the same spot as before, reading his book, but now there was a cup of tea on the coffee table in front of him. Across from him, Scaramouche had a cup placed in front of where he was seated as well. You noticed that there was one next to him that was probably meant for you.

You grabbed your bag, sat next to your boyfriend, and started pulling out your textbooks and your notebook, placing them in a pile on the coffee table. Scaramouche raised his eyebrows disapprovingly at your actions.

“Are you sure you’re ready to start studying?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

You were a little confused. You had warmed up in the shower and were wearing dry clothes. What more could he want you to do?

“I think he’s just worried that you haven’t warmed up enough yet.”

Kazuha made his comment without looking up from his book.

“Baby, I’m dry now. I'm all good. Don't worry.”

There was a smug little smile on Scaramouche’s lips that gave you a bad feeling.

“But are you warmed up?”

“Y'know,” Kazuha was still staring at his book. “You really have to make sure that you’ve completely warmed up.”

You rolled your eyes at the two of them.

“Okay, give me a blanket or something.”

Scaramouche’s smile grew. He picked up your bag and moved it onto the floor next to the couch.

“Why don’t you get on my lap?”

You turned bright red. What was he thinking? Kazuha was right there! You could see him gently smiling behind his book, which just made it all the more mortifying.

“Don’t worry. I’m sure Kazuha wouldn’t mind, right?”

Kazuha finally set down his book and looked you in the eye.

“Not at all.”

“But, we can’t, that’s-”

Scaramouche kissed you, effectively cutting you off.

You stared at him with wide eyes as he pulled away before speaking.

“Just relax and let us warm you up. Okay, dummy?”

You blushed, looking down at your hands. You nodded.

“Use your words.”

“Okay…”

“Come on, say it like you normally would. Tell Kazuha what you call me.”

Your blush intensified and you couldn’t get yourself to look at either of them. You sat there, quietly trying to get yourself to speak, but you just couldn’t.

Scaramouche got bored of your silence and grabbed your face, squishing your cheeks and forcing you to look at him. He narrowed his eyes at you.

“Speak.”

“Sorry, master…”

Scaramouche’s face morphed back into a pleased expression, and he released your face.

“Good girl.”

Kazuha was watching the two of you, eyes sparkling with fascination.

“Wow, she really is a good little slut. You weren’t lying.”

Kazuha’s kind tone while degrading you drove you insane.

“Come on, are you going to disobey me?”

“No. Sorry, master.”

You started climbing onto his lap, but before you could, he stopped you.

“Actually, stand up. I want you to strip for us.”

“What…?”

“Are you going to disobey me, pet?”

“No, Master. I’m sorry.”

You stood up, facing Scaramouche, and started undoing the bow on the sweatpants you had borrowed. They dropped to your feet, and you pulled your panties down after them. You felt yourself turn even more red, if that was even possible. Next, you pulled your t-shirt over your head, bracing for the fact that there was nothing covering your boobs at the moment. Scaramouche let out an appreciative hum at your obedience. It was embarrassing enough when you were naked in front of just your boyfriend, but being naked in front of him and his best friend while they were fully clothed? It was humiliating.

“Come here. Now.”

You went to straddle his lap, but once again, you were stopped.

“Turn around and face Kazuha. You want him to have a good view, don’t you?”

You looked at the ground, still bright red as you turned around to face Kazuha. You sat back on your boyfriend's lap, and you felt his hands slide up your sides.

“I’m going to fuck you, and he is going to watch the entire time. Then I’m going to let him fuck you.”

You nodded, still not making eye contact with the man sitting across from you. You felt your boyfriend reach between your legs.

“Hah, you’re so fucking wet.”

“I think the desperate whore wants us to fuck her.”

You whined at Kazuha’s sweet tone mixed with his degrading words.

A moan escaped your lips when you felt your boyfriend start to draw circles on your clit. Scaramouche moved his fingers back so they were lined up with your hole and pushed them inside. Again, you couldn’t help the moan that escaped you as he fucked his fingers in and out of you. When he added a third finger, your moans became more desperate, needing something more than his fingers inside of you so badly.

“Huh, she really does sound pathetic.”

“I’m not- ah!”

You were cut off by your boyfriend using his other hand to play with your clit, all while fucking you.

“‘Ah, mmm hah, I can’t- mmm, feels so good!’”

Scaramouche mocked your moans egged on by kazuha’s comment.

“You’re close, but you don’t sound as worthless.”

Your boyfriend threw his head back laughing, clearly enjoying himself.

He stopped playing with you and placed his hands on your hips. He lifted you up until you were just kneeling over him. You heard him fiddling with his pants and knew what was coming next, or at least, you thought you did. However, before you could sit down on your boyfriend’s cock, you felt the whole world shift, and all of a sudden, you were face down, ass up, on the couch.

“Scaramouche. What are you- ahhhh!”

He pulled you up by your hair until your back was against his chest.

“Fleshlights don’t talk.”

With that, he pushed you back down onto the couch. Your face was somehow still pointed towards Kazuha, so you made an attempt to turn it away. Immediately, you felt a smack on your ass, making you yelp.

“Fleshlights don’t move either.”

You wanted to apologize, but you were afraid of what would happen if you spoke without permission.

Your boyfriend lined himself up with you and pushed inside in one stroke, making your face scrunch up and causing you to let out a pained whine. He didn’t give you any time to adjust before he started fucking you hard and fast, making your closed eyes shoot open.

The first thing you noticed when your eyes opened back up was Kazuha watching you intently as he languidly stroked his cock. You made eye contact with him, and he smiled gently at you. He continued to stare you down as Scaramouche started drawing fast circles on your clit, and your moans got even louder.

“Fuck, you’re really getting off to me fucking you in front of my best friend? You’re such a whore.”

He hauled you up again, this time with his hand around your throat. He tightened his grip and whispered in your ear.

“I bet you’re excited to get fucked by him. You want me to watch as you fuck my best friend like the little whore you are?”

His words mixed with the rush of him choking you pushed you over the edge. Your whole body tensed up, and you had to bite your lip hard to stop the little scream that was trying to make its way out of your throat.

“Oh fuck.”

Your boyfriend moaned at the feeling of you cumming around him. You felt the rhythm of his thrusts become disconnected before he came in you. You felt his cum warm your insides, and you let out a happy little sigh.

“Does she really feel that good?”

Scaramouche shrugged.

“Hah, I guess.”

You could already feel Scaramouche’s cum dripping down your thighs as Kazuha stood up and walked over to you. He knelt on the couch in front of you.

“Wait what are you…?”

You were confused. He wasn’t actually going to fuck you, was he? But Scaramouche was already inside of you…

Your question was quickly answered when he rested his hand on your waist and started pushing his cock inside of you. You let out a whine at being stretched so much. It hurt, and you were still so sensitive.

“Fuck, she does feel good.”

They started fucking you, and you felt like you were going to cum just from the situation alone. The fact that your boyfriend and his best friend were both balls deep inside of you was driving you wild. Not to mention how unbelievably full you felt. You didn’t care about the pain because the pleasure was worth it.

After only a few moments, you were cumming again.

“Fuck, you really are so fucking pathetic. You like taking two cocks at once, huh?”

“Come on, be nice. She’s a slut. She can’t help it.”

You were whining at the overstimulation but still made sure not to talk.

They continued fucking you until they were both getting close to their ends. However, before they were done, they both pulled out and stood up.

“Get on your knees.”

You were confused but did as you were told.

“Fuck, she’s so obedient.”

“She knows her place. She’s my toy, afterall.”

The two men stood in front of you, and after a few moments, they both came on your face. You had your mouth open and eyes closed, just like Scaramouche had taught you. You were such a good toy.

Finally, it was over. You were exhausted and now covered in cum, and the boys were done. Well, Scaramouche was, but Kazuha didn’t feel like pushing either of you for more. Your boyfriend scooped you up and carried you to his room, placing you in the bed. He disappeared, returning shortly after with a warm cloth to help clean you up. He covered you with blankets and laid next to you while Kazuha went back to his book.

Tag List: @lilia-sspouse @but-a-peach @stannazuna @yourlocal-bunny @lordbugs @randomlycockroach @licensedsimp @leena-shi @cesimaaa @welpthisisfine @dainself-when-playable @fic-rebloga @bubblyxdolly @wanderin-stories @iwysbellez

morbific-or-felicific

[beenbaanbuun]

Bunnnnyyyy I'm having yuyu withdrawals 😭😭

I recently stumbled across the spiderman yuyu edit on Instagram again and it has me running LAPS

Like can you imagine being roommates with photography major spider!yunho, noticing his odd disappearances and late nights but never saying anything, which he appreciates because lord knows he doesn't have the capacity for it rn sinde I'd headcannon this is right after his uncle's desth when he's still in his angry grief era.

But MC would be sweet even though he's cold and kinda mean, she wouldn't be nosy or pry, always asks him to eat with her out of courtesy (which isn't a big deal for her but it kinda chips away at his heart because she's so sweet about it).

Still he maintains certain boundaries till one day he comes home all beat up and bruised, and MC patches him back up, there’s so much tension in the room when she has to peel off his shirt to check the bruises on his sides, when he softly asks why she cares about him so much, when she quietly admits that it's because she likes him-

AKSHSKSHDKSDBJSBZSJ

I'm just..... obsessed with Yunho

-lyra

so this sent me a little insane and i wrote so much more than i was expecting to 😭😭 spidey!yunho has sent me down a rabbit hole and this is what we ended up with…

——————————————————————————“can we eat together tonight?” you ask as you stir the pasta around the pot. you made two portions, as usual, in the sheer hope that he wouldn’t be going out again. “i found this recipe i thought you’d like. i figured it might help cheer you up!” you shrug as if it’s no big deal.

but it is to yunho. as he picks his backpack up from the floor, he feels his heart break just a little. it would be so much easier for him to leave the apartment every night if it wasn’t for the fact that you were such a sweetheart. the fact that you always cook for him whenever you make something for yourself is something that has been slowly chipping away at his hard exterior for months now. the way that you put it in the fridge along with a cute little note whenever he isn’t there to eat with you has almost properlybroken that exterior in two.

yunho can’t deny that half of those precious little notes are stashed in the drawer of his nightstand; he rereads them whenever his emotions get the better of him. seeing the sweet messages scrawled onto the yellow post-it-notes never fails to make him smile. your pretty little words in your pretty little handwriting… he’d be insane not to keep them.

you turn around, taking your attention away from the pot for just a moment, and spot him with his jacket on and his rucksack slung lazily over one shoulder. as your face falls, he can’t help the way his heart breaks just a little more. you probably think you’ve hidden your disappointment well, and to anyone else you might have done. it’s just a shame that yunho is the way that he is, because he sees the way your shoulders deflate and the shadow of a frown disrupts your pretty face. he can practically feel the sadness radiating from you in waves, the hairs at the back of his neck standing up slightly as your not-so-obvious upset puts him on edge.

but then you seem to remember yourself, and within seconds you’ve picked yourself back up and are offering a small smile to him. he still feels that prickling at the back of his neck, though.

although it becomes apparent pretty quickly that that sensation may be caused by his own disappointment, rather than yours. as much as he’d like to pretend otherwise, he can’t deny the way that the feeling in his neck grows as he watches you pull a tupperware from the cupboard. you swap it with his dish - it was really yours, but you’d named it his because it’s red and red reminds you of him, for some reason - and he has to stifle his own frown. for some reason watching you replace the ceramic bowl with the plastic tub hits him right in the chest…

“i’ll put yours in the fridge, then,” you say as you turn back to the pasta and give it a stir, “you can grab it whenever you’re hungry; maybe when you get back tonight?”

sweetheart, his brain repeats over and over like a mantra. it rattles round his skull whilst he tries to find the words to thank you. to let you know just how much he appreciates it, even if he doesn’t always show it. and the words are right there. right on the top of his tongue…

but for some reason he can’t get them out.

“i’ll see you later,” is all he mumbles before he slips out of the doorway and dashes down the hallway to the open window that awaits him at the end.

you try not to let the way the door slams shut hurt you, but even with the strongest will in the world you wouldn’t be able to take away the ache in your chest. he’s just going through a rough patch, you try to convince yourself as you spoon his serving into the tupperware and clip the lid shut. he just needs some time alone after everything that’s happened to him, you think as you slip it into the fridge. it’ll be better soon, you pray as you pull out a pen and think about what to write on his note.

hope this pasta cheers you up, yun! if you like it, let me know and i’ll make it more often for you!!

the words make you cringe, but you slip it next to the tupperware anyway, closing the fridge with a huff. you doubt he even reads the notes anyway, so why does it matter if what you write on them is a little sickly-sweet.

with a sigh you grab your bowl and turn to the couch, ready to settle in and do nothing for the night. as usual, yunho’s portfolio stuff is everywhere, as well as the photos of that one spider-guy that he’s been collecting for his new job at the daily bugle. you hate the newspaper yourself, thinking that the conspiracy-led journalism is nothing but fear mongering nonsense, but you can’t fault yunho for working there; he’s only in it for the money, afterall. it’s just the life of a collage student to have to sell out your morals for a paycheck.

you pick it all up, organising it into somewhat-coherent piles on the coffee table before flopping down onto the ratty sofa and flicking the TV on. the volume is barely at a whisper, and you can’t help but curse yunho for having such good hearing; no doubt he feels the same when he turns the TV on to a deafening wall of sound after you’ve used it. the thought gives you a quick chuckle as you flick through the channels to find something to watch. you settle on a dumb reality show, quickly settling in for the evening so you can eat your pasta in peace.

———

hours pass before yunho returns, swinging the door open and startling you out of your TV-centred tunnel vision. you turn to him in surprise, ready to gently scold him for putting what would no doubt be another dent in the wall. that will have to come out of both of your deposits, you prepare yourself to tell him, but when you actually see him you pause.

he’s hunched up against a wall, chest rising and falling as he struggles to breathe. there’s a wheeze when he inhales, which only gets stronger when he breathes out, and the look of pain on his face that comes each and every time he respires sends you straight into panic mode. you don’t bother to turn the TV off as you stand up and rush towards him.

“fucking hell, yun,” you cry as you reach him. he winces at your shrill tone, drawing back into himself as you invade his personal space to check for injuries. the obvious one is his side, which he’s clutching in his grip like his life depends on it; you assume it’s a cracked rib, which would explain why breathing looks like it’s taking all of his effort. despite its necessity, its a notoriously painful thing to do with a broken rib.

a broken nose can make it difficult too, and as you begin to scan his face, you realise that he definitely has one of those. the way it twists to the side slightly, blood oozing from his right nostril like a faucet makes you flinch back a little, as if you’re the one that’s injured. you compose yourself quickly as you continue your search. black eye, split brow, split lip - the list goes on, but thankfully none of it seems too irreparable. with your basic knowledge of first aid, and yunho’s weirdly extensive first aid kit, you’re bound to have him fixed up in no time.

“bathroom,” you stutter out, taking a step back to give him some space. he almost misses your warmth as he watches you take a few steps towards the room that separates his bedroom from yours. he chases it, pushing himself away from the wall and stumbling after you. he doesn’t know why he wants you so close all of a sudden, but he feels like he needs it to survive. those brief few seconds he had you close somehow made him breathe a little easier. he follows you into the bathroom and shuts the door behind him.

silently, you gesture to the toilet and he takes a seat on the closed lid. his broad torso leans back against the tiles, and he relishes in the way that the cold seeps through his shirt and washes over his too-hot body. his head tips back against it too, and he watches you through hooded eyes as you scramble through the cabinet to find his first-aid kit.

sweetheart, his mind whispers again as you sit there on your knees in front of the cabinet, pushing rolls of toilet paper and bottles of cleaning product to the side. only you could be so adorably caring towards him after all these months of him actively pushing you away. only you would be so worried for him after he’d been trying his hardest to avoid you for months on end.

only you.

that feeling at the back of his neck comes back, only this time it’s stronger. every single hair on his body stands on end as he watches you pull the black bag from the back of the cabinet, whispering a cute little ‘a-ha’ to yourself. he smiles at that, not even bothering to hide it from you when you turn to him with the kit in hand. he doesn’t need to anymore; you’ve already seen everything else he used to hide.

which reminds him of his tattered spider-suit in his grasp. yunho holds out the red spandex for you to take from him, half expecting you to examine it and unveil all his secrets, but you don’t. you don’t even look at it as you toss the filthy fabric into the bathtub and turn the cold tap on. it’s the best for getting blood out, afterall. with little more thought about the piece of fabric, you turn back to yunho and unzip the black bag.

“unbutton your shirt,” you mutter as you pull out some wipes, a tube of antiseptic cream, and a large square bandage. you have no idea if his side is actually bleeding or not, but it’s best to be prepared, right? you look back at him with the materials in hand, only to see him staring back at you with an unreadable look in his eyes.

“what?” you grumble, taking notice of the fact that he hasn’t moved an inch. his hand was still clutched over his side and his shirt was still messily buttoned up. you sigh and move towards him, thinking nothing of it when you drop to your knees between his thighs and begin to unbutton the white fabric. his breath hitches as your fingers brush against his chest, but you pay him no mind, “yunho, move your arm - i need to get your shirt off.”

he doesn’t, remaining still as ever as you undo the last button that you can. you sit back on your haunches and watch him from where you sit between his spread legs.

“yun, come on,” you whine, and he closes his eyes at the sound. so beautiful; if only he wasn’t in pain so he could enjoy it more, “i need to undo the rest of your buttons and i can’t when you’re not letting me!”

you lay a hand on his wrist in a pleading gesture, asking wordlessly to let you take care of him. he listens this time and loosens his grip on his ribs. you pull his hand away, sucking in a breath as you catch sight of the red stain that his hand was previously covering. it’s not huge, but it still needs seeing to, so you go back to unbuttoning his shirt.

yunho tries not to think too hard as your hand brushes over his crotch when you undo the last two, just like when you eventually finish and push the sides of his shirt open to reveal his bare chest. it’s covered with bruises, and he bites his lip to suppress a groan as your delicate fingers dance softly across his damaged skin. he finds himself wishing the circumstances were different, and that you sitting between his legs, touching his chest could be so much more than you just worrying about him. as he watches you pick up the antiseptic wipes again, he’s reminded that that’s all it is; you being worried.

but that too confuses him. after all this time of him being a downright dick to you, you’re still so gentle with him. he’s abrupt and rude, and yet you still smile and say hello whenever you see him. he’s never around to eat with you, and yet you never fail to make him a meal every time you cook. he’s kept so much from you, and yet here you are, taking care of him like none of that ever mattered. like you can somehow see the man he is underneath all that.

he whimpers, and he’s not quite sure whether it’s because of the pain of the antiseptic wipe, or the pain he feels in his heart. either way, he needs something to take his mind off it all.

“why?” he asks as you clean his wound with a kind hand. so soft, your touch, as if you’re scared of hurting him. as if anything you could ever do would hurt him.

“why what?” you respond as you toss away the bloodied wipe and move to grab the cream. you put a dollop on your finger and begin to gently press it against the wound. he groans, and you mutter out a small apology. you mean it too; you don’t want to cause him any more pain.

“why are you doing this?” he says through gritted teeth, breathing heavy and laboured as he tried to power through the sting that he feels in his side, “why are you so nice to me when i’m - oh fuck, it hurts - when i’m anything but nice to you?”

you pause for a second, mulling over his question, repeating it in your mind until you can settle on an answer. well, an answer that’s palatable for him, anyway.

“you’re not not nice,” you say, capping the cream and putting it down on top of yunho’s thigh; you’d need it layered anyway. then you grab the bandage and rip off the adhesive cover, “and even if you were, i don’t think that wouldn’t change how i feel about you as a person.”

he watches with confusion in his eyes as you line up the bandage and smooth it over his skin. you run your fingers along the edges, pressing it down the make sure it’s secure. he’s sure that they linger on his skin for a moment longer than they have to, but he says nothing as you pull your hand back and rest it on your lap.

“how do you feel about me?” he whispers quietly into the cold air of the bathroom. it’s quite possibly the worst place he can imagine to have this conversation, and yet it seems the fit the atmosphere perfectly. somehow it feels so natural, talking about feelings whilst you patch up his injuries in the bathroom.

“i’ve fallen for you,” you bite the bullet, just coming straight out with it, “hook, line, and sinker, yun.”

it feels good to get it off your chest at long last. even if it doesn’t lead anywhere, or it makes things weird between the two of you. even if he begins to avoid you more, or just straight up moves out, it’s feels nice to have it out in the open. you’ve cast your net, it’s up to him whether or not he lets you catch him…

“oh,” is all he says at first, and you try not to think too much into that single syllable. you pick up the tube of antiseptic cream again and turn your attention to his eyebrow, “you like me?”

you nod as you put another globule on your finger and lean into him to get closer to the cut. you ignore the way he stares at you as you work, trying you hardest to avoid making eye contact. you already feel like your heart is about to beat itself free from your chest; you don’t need to worry it any more.

but then you feel a finger brush softly against your face, a scabbed up knuckle teasing your soft skin as it’s traces your cheekbone. a breath gets caught in your throat, and your finger stills against yunho’s brow bone. against your better judgement, you let yourself focus on his expression, making eye contact with the chocolate pools that never failed to draw you in. they’re beautiful, as always, but they reveal so much more than they usually do. the corners crinkle up into crows feet as his pupils twinkle with an emotion you’ve never really seen on his face before. it suits him… a lot.

“that’s a relief,” he breathes out, the semblance of a chuckle in his voice, “i’ve been calling you sweetheart in my brain since the moment we moved in together; it’ll be nice to be able to call you that to your face… sweetheart.”

[missdaytonawrites]

liar • a. anderson

summary - manny and abby find you alone one night and take you back to the stadium, abby does everything in her power to swallow her feelings about you. even if it means pushing boundaries and lying. (enemies 2 lovers w/ abby's mean ass.)

WC - 4k

cw/tw - 18+ MDNI, post!outbreak abby, mean!abby, afab!reader, talk of guns and infected, seriously abby's unreasonably bitchy, talk of alcohol, abby cannot tell the truth to save her life, dom/sub dynamics, hurt/comfort kinda??? fingering (r! receiving) getting caught (if u squint girl, not really) apologetic!abby. slightly, every-so-barely, for a literal split-second... sub!abs, (mainly sub!r tho..) spitting, tribbing ooooh, abby smokes cigarettes, so does r! apparently, little bit of fluff, i kinda hate the ending?? maybe a pt. II to this will happen idk don't ask lol.

A/N - ..heeey people... here it is!!! i recently (like two days ago recently) gained a pretty serious injury on my pinky toe and i've been literally bed-ridden so i had no choice but to get this out. i love this song, i've heard this song live, this song is so request-this-is-based-on coded so!!!! (*edit* nonnie if u see this i hope u love it mwah) i kid you not i started writing this on the two-hour drive home from the paramore concert and i've just now finished it. i'm super personally proud of this and i will say -- YOU 100% HAVE GOT TO, LISTEN TO THE SONG WHEN YOU READ. with most of my other fics, it's really optional but for this?/!:?):!; put headphones in, turn this song on loop, AND THEN READ!!! it will completely enhance the fic. thanks 4 readin as always, love you crazy bitches.

"love is not an easy thing to admit, but i'm not ashamed of it."

this was fucking gross, the dirt was cold and wet. bordering on mud status and now seeping into the cloth of your shorts & t-shirt as you lay into the earth. you were tired and just needed some rest before you continued on. the old abandoned house you had been using as shelter became over-ran with some infected while you were out one day. so it was back to the forest floor for now.

gross, cold, and wet. the way she had found you, curled up and fast asleep on the ground, she almost wished that she felt bad. she didn’t though, instead for a split second she forgot manny had been following behind her as she took the barrel of her gun to press into the side of your face. she pressed in a little harder and you shot awake at the feeling of something touching your teeth through your cheek. your eyes fly open and they’re met with two shadowy figures above you.

one is a lot larger than the other, the one who had been poking you with the gun crouched down to get a better look at you. through her inspection, manny could be heard behind her muttering something about “we can’t just leave her here, abs.” abby didn’t really care for what he was saying, instead she was silently cursing herself for the emotion that began to crowd her train of thought. abby had toughened herself up enough so these sorts of things wouldn’t happen. she, or the rest of the WLF couldn't afford any emotional attachments. abby didn't need to be going out and developing crushes on sleeping beauties in the woods. yet here she was…

maybe that's why she grew to detest you so severely. treating you so harshly so her mask didn't slip, it was the only way for her. especially the night they found you. she couldn’t even begin to fathom how badly she wanted to just grab you up, take you back to clean you off and keep you safe with the rest of them. instead, she shook you (and manny’s new found excitement, like they found a stray puppy) off, pulling her gun away from your face and stepping about eight feet far from you to speak with manny.

it was back and forth the entire time, manny weighing in all the pros while abby lays out all the cons. true childish banter begins to ensue and abby begrudgingly agrees to bring you back with manny, claiming he’ll “deal with any consequences.” they walk back over to where you lay, awake and pissed. you had just started to fall asleep for fucks sake, “look, you’re coming with us. don't argue and just be grateful that it's we who ran across your ass and not some raider." abby sighs then pinches the bridge of her nose, you would like to argue but the darker haired one looks rather excited for you to be coming, so you bite your tongue for now.

it had been six months since that night… six months of falling in love with your new life at the stadium, six months of manny becoming the closest friend you’ve ever known, six months of training.. six months of a total cold shoulder from abby. you didn't even know if you could call it that, lord knows she never spared her snarky comments towards you at dinner or when the two of you got paired together on runs. always saying something about how you never do anything right, then carrying on while she tells you all the reasons they should've just left you there in the forest to rot.

you take on each day with your head high, trying not to let abby bother you. even if you couldnt seem to crack her fucking issue with you, reminding yourself that everyone else enjoys you and is glad you joined them. especially manny, he was a great pal, always sitting with you at dinner and reading with you. one night he had pulled you out of your book and talked you into having a drink with him, so you did. the two of you passed the bottle back and forth all night, intoxicating yourself enough to blab about abby.

“i just don’t fuckin’ get it, i guess.” taking another swig, you chuckle and hand manny the bottle back. “maybe i just see myself differently than she does.” he looks like he’s thinking and before he can say anything you start again, “does she talk about me? i mean, have i done anything to her that i’m just oblivious to?” manny doesn't say anything, just throws back whatever is left in the whiskey bottle and looks at you sympathetically.

“she doesn't really talk to anyone about things like that, maybe you did.. nobody will ever know.” you sigh and cross your legs. you and manny enjoy the silence for awhile before there’s some shuffling to the side of you two and then just like magic, there’s abby. rearing her mean little head like she heard you twos conversation. much to your chagrin, she did and as she takes her seat next to manny she whacks his shoulder and grumbles something along the lines of “couldn't save any for me..?”

abby's presence captures all of manny's attention while she talks him into going to grab another bottle, you sit uncomfortably and slightly tipsy as she finally convinces him. he gives you a little salute before heading off, leaving you and abby alone. you feel the liquor drop like an anchor in your stomach and your eyelids become heavy, you suddenly aren't sure how much longer you wanna stay.. where did she come from? if she was listening, why? you could have sworn manny said everyone else was out for the night..?

you’re so deep in thought that you don't notice abby has moved closer to you, and has been slowly muttering in your ear this whole time. it isn’t until she is literally snapping her fingers in front of your face, that you pull yourself out of your trance. when you turn to look her in the eyes, you notice just how close she had gotten. taking a sharp breath she starts again, even slower this time, like you wouldn't understand if she were to say it any faster. “i don’t see you differently, i see you for what the fuck you are… n’ i can’t say i’m the biggest fan”

you swallow and feel as if you’ve shrunk beneath her very gaze, “keep my fucking name out of your mouth, got it?” subconsciously scooting away from her, you nod quickly and avert your gaze. she snaps again, and your eyes shoot back to hers. “say it. tell me that you got it through your goddamn head,” and she moves closer. “now!” you squeak out a shaky “got it!” before standing and making your exit. on your leave, you can hear abby laugh at the situation from down the hall.

she has never taken something that far before? you can’t even recall a time she’s been that close to you before. guilt starts to float around you like a cloud above your head. you cannot believe you let her bother you so much that you left without saying a “good night.” or “thank you!” to manny.

flopping face-down on your cot, you conjure an idea; you rummage through all of your belongings to find some pen and paper. you write manny an explanatory note and let him know a little about what happened.

finishing up your letter, you can faintly hear him and abby laughing from your room.

“ah, abs.. you’ll have to get over yourself and tell her eventually.” he sighs and you can hear abby hiss at the thought. “nah man, i’ve already-” and then you remember how shes made you feel before, you decide you’re done eavesdropping and suddenly decide to no longer give manny the piece of paper you had been writing him. crumpling the note, you throw it at the wall and lay down to read.

an entire two weeks pass, you can confidently say you’ve not once thought about abby. her lack of kindness fails to phase you as the days pass. you’ve stopped eating with the group, opting for meals in your room instead. you’ve only really talked with manny only enough to ensure you and abby aren't partnered up for anything. it was smooth sailing for another two weeks, a whole fucking month passes and you cannot believe she’s really left you alone. you honestly didn't think she was capable, but alas, she hadn't even barely looked your way. you can’t help but let your mind race before you sleep about why? was she respecting your request? had manny scolded her? you remembered what manny had told you and settled with the fact that you’d never know.

one night, as you make your bed and pack your bag for the week, there's a quick rasp of knuckles on your door. “heeeeey! i know you’re in here, let me in.” manny, and he sounded drunk. unlocking the door and rolling your eyes, he stumbles in and flops down on your freshly made cot. “we have got to taaaalk..” he hiccups and rolls over to face you, “i need to know, please-” burping and then bursting out in laughter he rubs his eyes and sits up. “what reeealllyy happened that ni-ght.” you didn't think you could roll your eyes back any further than they did at that very moment, practically dismissing him you say: “i don't know what you’re talking about, what night?” burping, he looks at you like you’ve lost it, “c’mon, don't do that. i just want to know if she's telling me the truth…”

in that moment, your head whips around and you’re sure your eyes bugged out of your head. “the truth? what did she say happened?” manny matches the shocked expression on your face for a split second and then erupts in laughter, you worry for what he’s about to say. “look, don’t let this- this, don't tell her i said this.” swallowing and moving closer to him, you sit on the cot with manny while he tells you this extravagant story all about what “happened” that night.

apparently, that night, you told abby to her face that you thought she had a problem with you. apparently, on that same night you also caught an attitude with abby and got in her face. apparently, you stormed off in a drunken rage after allegedly jumping all over her case.

furious, you were so fucking mad. there were simply no words in the goddamned english dictionary to fathom how angry you were with her. she lied! right through her teeth! to manny of all people! about you! there was no holding back anymore, returning to the moment, you spare no gory details as you tell manny what really happened. to say the least? he wasnt very happy, you told him you were scared of her and didnt say anything sooner because you swore to “keep her fucking name out of your mouth.”

the conversation sobered manny up enough for him to apologize on abby's behalf and then exit rather quickly, leaving you to go to bed. you just can’t justify falling asleep, though. not until you make a plan, to your knowledge abby has no reason to be treating you the way she is; the only thing to do now is talk to her. you can be civil, at this point you just need to know why. so in a futile attempt to sleep, you rehearse with yourself what you’re going to say to abby tomorrow.

you wake up to bright sun, bam, right there in your eyes. you practically hiss and you turn away from your window, regaining your vision when your senses are flooded with an overwhelming scent of pine… you thought you were having a stroke, so you sit up and take in your surroundings. upon further inspection, and the realization that you’re definitely not having a stroke, you look around your space and low and behold..

there’s abby. hair falling loosely about her shoulders, still in her pajamas, sitting there just as annoying as the sun. you see her and glare, the tone of your morning immediately shifts and you turn away from her the same way you did with the morning light. grumbling something at her about how she needs to leave and how you two would do this later. you thought your point had been made until she grabs your arm and stops you from laying back down.

“look, i seriously can’t do this anymore.” she pulls you hard enough that you’re sitting up again. “i feel so fucking guilty, i don’t think i could even put it into words.” you almost laugh in her face, actually. “can’t do what anymore, abby? walk around and spew nothing but hate for me?” you realize how close she is and you reach out to shove her. putting some distance between the two of you, she opens her mouth to speak again but you interrupt her. “is it the whole lying to manny thing that made the guilt finally kick in, anderson?”

she returns to her spot in the chair on the far side of your room and sits, she chews her cheek while you rub your eyes. “don’t got anything to say now, huh?” she looks at you like she wants you to finish.. so you do. “i told you to go away, abby. we could’ve handled this later.” she stands up and walks over, sitting and occupying the empty space on your mattress next to you.

“i can’t keep living like this. fuck, fuck!” she shouts and stands, wiping her hands on her forehead. “i don’t know how to do this, and you aren't making it any easier.” you are genuinely astonished, in utter disbelief that she’s the angry one and that you’re gonna have to spell this out for her. “how about sorry? maybe go tell manny yourself that you are a fucking liar?!”

in that very moment, smoke might as well of blown out of her ears like a damn cartoon, “yeah. a liar.” she huffs and sits again. “lied to manny, lied about wanting you to keep my name out of your mouth.. lied about hating you.”

your jaw dropped, mouth literally hanging open as she continues, “i don’t know why, there’s no excuse. i am so fucking sorry.” she moves closer to you and puts her hand on your arm, gentler this time. “i haven’t said this to anyone in years, but i think i love you.” gazing down to her hand on you, then back up to her eyes you swallow the lump sitting in your throat. you don’t know what to say.

“abby, i,” you sigh and chew your lip, “i wish i knew what to say, this is all-” and then her hand moves up, silencing you when her thumb swipes over the expanse of your lips and then rests at the corner of your mouth. she leans into you and offers you two more words, “don’t talk..” then closes the gap between you two.

your lips are like heaven, everything she could have ever wanted. every night when she would fall asleep dreaming of them, this is it and more. she feels like she is fucking floating. she doesn't know what to do with her hands; they tangle in your hair, slide and touch your arms and then come up to cup your cheeks while she pushes into you impossibly further.

she breaks the kiss every now and then to mutter an “i’m sorry.. m’so so sorry, baby.” pulling away completely to admire you. she’s panting so heavily as she goes to pull your tank top up and off, immediately ducking down to take a nipple into her mouth. the cool air of your room hits you, head rolling back and around when you peer down at her, she locks eyes with you. pulling off you with a pop, she comes back up to kiss you again. except this time, its not a makeout, just short desperate pecks all over your face while she hurries to get your shorts off of you.

you help her out and shimmy out of them, completely bare, you fall back on your elbows and spread your legs for her. she lets out a low whistle and shakes her head, chuckling as she whispers, “goddamn foolish to deny myself of this..” bringing her middle and ring finger to rub circles around you.

she moves them down and pushes the two into you, twisting and curling them against your walls. you gasp and drop your head again, hands balling up into fists. abby notices your open mouth and kisses you again, pushing her tounge into your mouth and really fucking kisses you. her free hand rolls your nipple and then wraps in your hair, exposing your neck for her to suck and bite. “pussy’s so good..” whispering against your neck, fingers still fucking you while crude sounds bounce and echo off your walls.

she pulls her fingers out and hovers them over your clit. she looks down at your dripping center, wets her lips, and then looks back at you. “may i?” she asks and brings her fingers to her mouth to taste. her eyes knock to the back of her head and she brings her fingers down to rub you some more, “god, please let me, baby”

while you barely manage to moan out a response abby has already wondrously found her way down to your core, latching herself to your clit. she groans into you while your hips instinctively buck into her mouth. as if the sensation of her devouring you wasn't enough, her fingers plunge into you. writhing beneath her, your hands find a home in abby’s hair; and if her head weren’t literally between your legs, you would have stopped to comment on how soft her blonde locks are.

abby continues to fuck you with her fingers when all of the sudden, her mouth is pulling off of your pussy and delving into your lips yet again. the contact has you whimpering and an unfamiliar heat sizzles in your lower belly. you pull away from the kiss in attempts to speak, but to no avail as she simply just follows you back and keeps kissing you. “don’t run from it, baby.. don’t run from me.” she pulls away from your face and drives her fingers into you, fast and mean and determined.

your breathing quickens and you’re suddenly so much more aware of the way she's leaning over you, the darkness in her eyes, the way she’s heaving as she watches your body react to her touch. you’re close, so, so indescribably close to the edge; just about to explode beneath her when.. knock knock knock!

“abs?! you guys in there?” manny, banging on your door to innocently check the status of you two’s “making up.” abby’s eyes flicker down to yours and her free hand flys to her own lips, pressing a single finger to them, hushing you. “i got this, stay quiet.” she whispers and gives you a peck then clears her throat. “yeah man! we’re all good, just talkin’!” she shouts at him, never once slowing her pace while your orgasm just bubbles within you.

manny laughs, “cool, cool. just wanted to make sure you aren't like.. murdering her or anything.” abby laughs this time, murdering something else for sure, and lets him know you two will be out soon enough. you hear his footsteps trail off, and without a second to think, abby’s kissing you again. you whine against her lips and she coos, practically begging you to cum on her fingers.

“let go, give it to me baby, please.” your legs spasm and she chuckles, bringing her thumb to your clit as you gush onto her fingers. hips circling and following the movements of her thumb while you ride it out, abby watches in amazement. she removes her fingers from you as you come down, and makes quick work of her own bottoms. discarding them on the floor, she grabs one of your legs for leverage and swings one of her own over your torso. positioning her pussy right over your own, she trails a line of kisses down your calf and to your knee. resting her forehead against your leg and huffing when she finally grinds down into you.

your mouth falls agape, and you reach to touch her; any of her. her arms, her hips, her chest. gasping while she bites the meaty part of your calf, you buck into her and she throws her head back at the increased friction.

“such a good girl, y’know that..? so fucking good..” her hips rut back and forth and sweat drips from her forehead and runs down your leg. looking down at where the two of you connect, abby spits on to the both of you and fucks you harder. she’s the one to whine this time, so fucking pent up from living with you for fucking months and not already doing this. guilt starts to grow heavy in her stomach again and she whimpers then kisses your ankle, folding your leg to rest against her shoulder. she looks down at you and cups you face, clit still rubbing against you. “m’sorry.. fuck.” she grips your face harder and her pace quickens, incoherently mumbling out apologies and you feel your second orgasm start to swirl.

you shush at her and move your own hips quicker to keep up, “no, no abby, please..” she throws her head back again and her hands move to grope at your tits, you look up at her with forgiving eyes. nodding, as if to telepathically tell her that it's okay. that you want this and that you forgive her, she nods back and groans as loud as you’ve ever heard. you lightly tap her bicep and bring her back to the moment. whimpering, “gonna cum again, abs, please..”

she breathes and nods her head again, “m’almost there baby, almost..” sniffling, she really pushes down into you and her hips falter just slightly. “want you to cum with me, ‘kay?” she keeps fucking herself against you and you tremble, trying to move with her but you’re too lost in pleasure.

she winces and bucks her hips criminally fast; ushering you, and herself, to finally let go. she pants and sweats above you, her own orgasm crashing into her while you cling to her for dear life. pathetically writhing into her as you begin to unravel yourself. melting back into the bed sheets as she rides the both of you through your highs. her hips begin to slow and she’s kissing up and down your leg again. nudging her nose against your thigh, with a finalizing and triumphant breath.

you slowly creep back into reality and feel abby's weight shift off and away from you, just barely noticing her shimmy her shorts back up. she wobbles out of the room and returns with a damp towel, wiping the two of you down. she lets you lay and rest while she digs in her shorts pocket and pulls out a pack of cigarettes, she takes one out and lights it, and then crawls into bed with you.

she tucks you under her arm and wraps your blanket around you both, taking a long drag from her smoke and flicking the ash somewhere to her side. exhaling and turning the cigarette towards you, she slides the filter between your lips and lets you get a good pull.

it stays this way for a while, quiet and still. wrapped up in eachother, you two finish the smoke together and she puts it out right on your concrete floor. she pulls you in even closer and kisses your head. you sigh and close your eyes, saying it back for the first time, “i love you too, abby.”

jeeeeez, editing this was sooo headache-flavored. anyway! happy reading! wish me a decent recovery, and also?? lmk if you guys want a more in-depth story behind my fucked-up toe or pictures for that matter lol!!!

[mariariley]

Simon Riley x reader

⋆✮⋆ relationship headcanons ⋆✮⋆

2nd person

female reader

NSFW warning

Word count: 1.4k

masterlist || have a request/ask? Here are the rules <3

I edited this one a little too many times 😭 added bunch of stuff so I’m sorry for the reblogs that aren’t getting the updates

Let’s be honest, it would be a hell of a journey to get with this man

At first, he wouldn’t be interested in you at all

It takes a lot of patience to actually make some kind of bond with him that isn’t merely because you’re a teammate or whatever you imagine in your CoD AU

If you’re patient and stubborn enough, you might get somewhere

If you treat him right, take it easy with him, prove yourself worthy and convince him you genuinely care, it’s a bingo

It might seem like you’re taming a wild animal but it really isn’t. Considering he’s a soldier preoccupied with duty, there’s no room for emotions

Or at least no room for emotions until he learns how to control them and put them aside when it’s mandatory which would take a while

That’s why he’d be slowly letting you in, step by step you’d notice he’d talk with you more and wish to spend more time with you

He wouldn’t tell you any of that though. He’d express that physically in a way - sit closer to you, stand closer to you (giving off protective vibes), stare at you

The staring part might seem a little unnerving but it’s just his way of admiring you from afar considering he can’t admire you up close (yet)

The situationship would go on and on as he’d slowly make room for you

When he finally makes sure the special little warm place for you in his cold heart is completely ready, he’d let you in

The moment you’d officially click would be spontaneous, you probably wouldn’t expect it. You’d be alone, probably just enjoying the peace with a TV on when he’d casually wrap his arm around your shoulder

He’d make a small talk, probably end up flattering you with a cheeky comment or make you giggle with a dad joke

For the first time he’d let you touch him. He’d let you sneak your hand underneath his mask and slightly lift it, merely to reveal his mouth

He wouldn’t hesitate another moment because he’d be tired of hesitation. You’d be surprised how gentle he is, how soft his kisses are and how careful he is with his hands

He isn’t into PDA so the crew would have to figure it out on its own

As your significant other he’d be ready to lay his life down for you. He’s extremely overprotective and would get jealous

At times it wouldn’t seem as healthy but if you’re good at communicating there shouldn’t be a problem with dealing with any setbacks

He loves pampering you, treating you like a princess, giving you everything he’s never had

He's a man of few words so his love language is mostly physical touch. It’s hard for him to choose which part of your body is his favorite because he loves holding all of you like a plushy toy

But if he really had to choose it would probably be your face and torso, his favorite parts to kiss, as well as your collarbone (has a thing for necklaces)

His sex drive isn’t high and it would take a lot of time to get fully intimate with him

First he’d spontaneously test your boundaries, make sure what you’re comfortable with and what not

Your first intimate session he’d take nice and easy. He’d realize how good you make him feel in every aspect. It would turn out to be very passionate, slow and intense

Every next time would be better than the previous one. You’d explore each other and experiment together and actually start doing it more and more frequently

You’d hear him praise you and dirty talk here and there. For example “You can take it luv”, “Do it for me sweethear’”, “There’s a good gal”

And when he’d make you squirt or when he’d want you to cum again: “Do it again for me”, “You can do it”, “Just one more time luv, do it for me princess”

He’s okay with oral but definitely prefers the real deal. He also prefers doing it inside, in complete privacy where he can cherish you properly

His favorite positions are the classic missionary, cowgirl and reverse cowgirl and even then he’d tell you to look at him over your shoulder because he prefers looking at your beautiful face

He loves holding your hand while thrusting deep inside of you, going slow with a perfect amount of roughness, stretching your walls. There’s something about this edging pace that makes his ears rumble in pleasure

Isn’t that vocal, mostly just grunts and groans and heavily breathes

Is a dom but not an aggressive one. Never.

He’d use classic nicknames such as “love”, “darling” but also “sweetheart”, “sweets”, “doll”, “princess”

You’re probably the only one he enjoys hearing Simon from. He loves when you call him by his real name

If English isn’t your first language and if you have an accent, he would love it. He’d tell you how adorable it is if you’re insecure about it

Fantasizes about moving with you to Manchester and owning a dog. He isn’t a family man, he doesn’t want kids

Loves when you admire his tattoos and touch his face. He’d always guide your hands to his face. He loves when you kiss his scars (and loves kissing yours if you have any, as well as beauty marks)

Loves to hold your hands and admire your nails if you like them painted and/or long (loves when you give him gentle scratches with them, especially his arms and back), perhaps has a tiny size kink

Loves your scent and your perfumes it you wear any, hence he loves when you wear his clothes

Takes his mask off when sleeping but only when it’s pitch black. Here’s a fluff oneshot I wrote about it

Fun fact: blud is not a morning person when he’s not on duty. It’s hell to get him out of bed

He sleeps none to lightly and wakes up when you make the smallest shuffle, checking on you and always making sure you’re nicely tucked in

He can neglect himself really badly and I’m talking hygiene and clothes. Not taking care of himself is a bad habit of his. For example he wouldn’t shave his beard for a long time, shower, wash his clothes etc

You reminding him to do such things can be annoying but if you do it in a peaceful suggestive manner there won’t be any escalations. He’d admit and probably call himself a dirty pig before finally putting his dirty socks and underwear in the washing machine and finally showering

He drinks. Bourbon is his favorite and he can consume too much at times. He’d reassure you he can control himself but sometimes he can get a little tipsy. He isn’t an alcoholic but the amount he drinks at times can worry you

He smokes too, often stinks of nicotine

Loves when you brush your teeth together

Also loves to watch you do your morning and night routines

Has a thing when you cook for him. Loves everything you make in the kitchen but he’s always the one making tea, no exceptions

Also has a thing to tickle you with his spiky beard when he doesn’t shave

He's a cheeky bastard, his sarcasm always on point. Loves making dad jokes and has a dark humor

Knows a lot of tricks e.g. with cards and that penny behind your ear trick. When you’d ask him to show you how he does it, he’d claim it’s “real magic”

Loves playing poker with his crew. Him trying to explain the rules to you is hilarious though because you probably wouldn’t understand anything. He’s rough on teaching

He’d love keeping you on his lap while playing poker with the crew along with a glass of strong bourbon, claiming you’re “his little helper/assistant”

Another fun fact: blud does not own enough clothes. You would have to go shopping with him which he hates

He would never open up about what he’s been through. He doesn’t want to traumatize you or ruin the picture you have of him. Or at least that’s just his fear. Only fear, to disappoint you and lose you

Though he would tell you about some missions and battles if you’re really interested. He’d tell you about his scars, where, when and how he got them. Some he’d skip because they connect to a part of his life he doesn’t want to talk about

What a journey to win Simon’s trust ey? Well he still can’t be surprised if one day something pulls you apart. Nevertheless he truly hopes it doesn’t

He wouldn’t want this to end, ever. He found his happy place and that’s you

Dividers belong to @firefly-graphics 🖤

[butdaddyilovehim-hs]

The Divorce: Part I

Y/N takes on her first high profile case as an assistant at a law firm. Her first client? Harry Styles.

Word Count: ~ 3k

Warnings: none… yet 😋

Y/N wouldn’t say she was particularly brave. Or outspoken. She didn’t like speaking much at all really, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t good at her job. She just happened to be a bit shy. Sometimes she wondered why it was exactly that she wanted to become a lawyer, a job that required more talking than most others. But here she was, assisting at one of the largest law firms in England. Now she didn’t actually do much legal work; she tended to fetch coffee and organise documents but if she ever dared to speak up, people would quickly realise she was much more intelligent than what she was given credit for.

“Y/N! We have a possible case, a big one. I want you as my right hand woman for this ok? Let’s get you out of your shell a bit eh?” Mr Collins strode up to Y/N’s desk, startling her slightly.

Robert Collins was a joy of a boss and Y/N was grateful for every second she worked with him. He knew she was timid and he didn’t push past her limits. But he was encouraging and sometimes Y/N wished he wouldn’t be as nice to her so that she could prepare herself for the real world outside her little bubble where people were ruthless and unforgiving. Robert also had an extremely pregnant wife at home who was ready to pop at any moment which somewhat accounted for his rather happy in office personality. 

“Who’s the client? Do I know them?” She asked, standing and rounding her desk to where Robert stood. 

“I’d be surprised if you didn’t. It’s Harry Styles.” 

Y/N’s jaw nearly dropped to the ground, but she kept quiet as Robert briefly explained the situation. It wasn’t anything they weren’t used to - high profile divorce, with two people unable to come to a decision on what to split between them. 

“We’ll need to draft up a plan this afternoon, we’re meeting him tomorrow. He’s doing interviews himself which is unheard of. He’s looking for the best representation he can find which is understandable - the man has assets. Every law firm in the country wants this case. If we get it, it’ll skyrocket our reputation. Do as much research as you can, I’ll send through a file on everything I have. I need this to be airtight Y/N. He’s one of the most important clients we could ever have and he also has reputation for being a bit of an asshole so we… you need to prepare for that. Don’t screw this up.” 

“Of course Mr Collins I’ll get right on it.”

Y/N worked for hours, making a solid plan and editing it until she was finally happy with it. She left the office for the night, long after everyone else, arriving home as the sun started to set. After a quick shower and muesli bar (Y/N knew it wasn’t the most filling of meals but she was tired and frankly could not be bothered) she jumped into bed. 

Just as she was closing her eyes, her phone buzzed twice. 

Robert Collins: Y/N, Linda is in Labour!

Robert Collins : You’re going to need to take the meeting alone tomorrow. You need to do everything you can to secure this deal. Do whatever it takes. We need this case. We need him. If there’s an emergency call me but otherwise I’ll be at the hospital. Will keep you updated.

Y/N’s heart dropped to her stomach. Take a meeting ALONE? With HARRY STYLES. Oh he had to be fucking kidding. With a groan she flopped back into bed and covered her face with a pillow. This was a nightmare.

“I don’t care who it is, I want the best and I want them now. Do you understand? I’m sure I don’t need to remind you what a sensitive matter this is.” 

“Yes of course Mr Styles, right away sir.” 

Harry slammed the phone back into it’s receiver, before slumping back into his chair, pinching the bridge of his nose. If you had told him in his 20s that he would be CEO of the largest company in the world before he turned 30, he would have smirked, tossed back his whiskey and said that sounded about right. Harry was sure in himself and in his abilities. He was brilliant at his job, however, he had learned that being brilliant at his job didn’t come with being a pushover. As a result, he was ruthless, harsh and didn’t have a reputation for being the nicest boss. Everyone was terrified of him and he liked it that way. Harry enjoyed control. He relished it. 

But, if you had told Harry in his 20s that he would be getting a divorce at 35, he would have laughed in your face, in slight disbelief before protesting that he and his wife were as happy as ever, content and in love. He would have said all of that before he walked in on her fucking her pilates instructor in their bed. 

Sofia Styles had dissolved into cries and pleas as Harry calmly ordered the both of them to get out, before resorting to screaming abuse at him when it seemed her begging was falling on deaf ears. She wailed about how he didn’t make time for her, how all they did was argue and how she had needs that Harry wasn’t taking care of. Which was… true. Harry had grown tired of their rather vanilla sex life over a year ago, but Sofia had never been interested in changing up their routine.

Before he had fallen in love with Sofia, Harry was a dominant. He took pleasure in taking control, having women submit themselves to him and writhe beneath him. It was safe, it was consensual, it was fun. God he didn’t remember the last time he had had fun. That side of him had quieted when Sofia had walked into his life. But that wasn’t the point. None of it mattered now.

“Mr Styles? Is everything alright?” His assistant poked her head through the door, shutting it behind her softly as she took in his frazzled state. Harry had hired Nancy a few years ago and despite being in her early 60s, she was the most competent assistant he’d ever had. She was also there for motherly advice whenever he needed it. Nancy knew how difficult it was for Harry to have his mother living so far away, so she made an effort to make sure he was eating well and sleeping enough. 

“I’m fine. It’s just hitting me all at once. I’m tired.”

“It will pass Harry. I know you, you’ll be alright. Mr Horan called to ask how you were… you also have a few meetings this afternoon. The legal department also wanted me to let you know that they’ve found candidates. I think they were… frightened to call you back, so they called me.” Nancy said, a wry smile on her lips. 

Harry gave her a weak smile in return, resting his head in his hands. 

“Tell Niall I’ll call him later and that I’m ok. Cancel the rest of my meetings for today if you don’t mind and tell legal I want to meet them all as soon as possible. Tomorrow if they’re able.” Harry scanned his email for the list of candidates pausing as he read one of the names. 

“I’d like to see the representative from Collins law firm tomorrow too. I’ve heard he’s quite good."

“They’ve already set up a meeting but actually it’s a “her”.” Nancy corrected.

“Huh?” Harry looked up, confusion evident in his features.

“Meet her. The interview is with his assistant, Mr Collins is caught in a family emergency. Y/N Williams, I believe. She’s Robert’s right hand woman and they specialise in this kind of thing, so you’re in good hands.” 

Harry raised a brow. 

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

“Don’t scare her away Harry. I know how you can be.” She chided and Harry scoffed.

“That’ll be all thank you Nancy.” 

With a roll of her eyes, the older woman shuffled out of the office, closing the door behind her. 

Harry rubbed his eyes in irritation, resting his head in his palms. It was going to be a long day.

“Your client is WHO?!?”

“Harry Styles, you heard me the first time Lauren, and keep your voice down! I’m not supposed to say anything, it’s all very private and quiet because of who they are. And he isn’t my client yet.” Y/N exclaimed to her best friend.

Lauren had a tendency to get overexcited about things but Y/N had to admit she had butterflies in her stomach about this too. Harry Styles was without a doubt one of the most attractive men she had ever seen and the fact that she was meeting him today had her wrecked with nerves. She was curious as to what had made his marriage fall apart, at least she assumed that’s what she was hired for, given her specialty. Maybe he was bad in bed, but she doubted it. Maybe he cheated on her? Did she cheat on him? Maybe-

“Y/N! I’ve been calling your name for like 5 minutes what could you possibly be daydreaming about? Mr Styles?” Lauren laughed at the stunned look at Y/N’s face as she came back to earth. 

“I wasn’t daydreaming about him! I was just thinking… I wonder what he’s like.”

“Well you’re not going to find out if we keep talking, you’re going to be late babe, go!” 

So, after a few words of encouragement, Y/N made her way to the meeting, breathing heavily as she pulled into the carpark. 

Styles Incorporated was one of the largest buildings in the city. It had 68 floors, high ceilings and windows that were always shining. Y/N made her way inside, slightly taken aback by the atmosphere. There were hundreds of workers but it was so quiet, almost as though they didn’t dare make a sound. Y/N grimaced at the sound of her heels clicking on the tiles, walking towards reception. 

“Hello, I’m Y/N Williams, I’m here for an interview with Mr Styles.” Y/N said politely, almost in a whisper due to how quiet the building was. 

The woman at the desk peered at her from behind her glasses. 

“He’s expecting you. 68th floor. Glass office, you can’t miss it.” 

“Thank you. Anything I should know before I go in?” Y/N meant it as a joke, simply because she was nervous, but the woman nodded. 

“Don’t speak unless spoken to, don’t ask any personal questions, and address him as Mr Styles at all times.” 

Y/N blinked in shock, before nodding and walking quickly to the elevator. Her stomach turned as the elevator rose, and she took deep breaths to calm herself down. The woman at the desk in front of the larger office gave her a warm smile as she arrived, telling her to head on through.

Y/N swallowed at the sight of the man behind the desk, plastering a shaky smile on her face and entering through the door. His eyes remained glued to his laptop as she stood timidly in front of him for a few moments before clearing her throat.

“It’s lovely to meet you Mr Styles I’m-“

“Late.” He remarked, eyes still on the screen.

“I’m sorry?”

“You’re late, Miss Williams. You’re also not who I was expecting.” He looked up at her for the first time and Y/N was taken aback slightly by his features. He looked as though he had been chiseled from stone, all hard lines and piercing green eyes and cheekbones that could cut glass. 

“I don’t mean to be rude but I believe I’m right on time.” Y/N checked her watch, noting that it was 10am exactly. 

“Around here, if you aren’t early, you’re late. I’m a busy man Miss Williams, if I’m not punctual everything falls apart. Do you understand?” 

Y/N exhaled softly, observing the rather irritated man in front of her, gathering her thoughts. 

“Of course Mr Styles, I apologise. I don’t want to take up too much of your time, I’m sure this is an issue that you’re eager to move quickly through.” Y/N mentally high fived herself as her voice only shook slightly, even if she had basically rehearsed what she was going to say like a script about 10 times on the way over. 

“Take a seat Miss Williams. You look like you’re about to run at any minute and unfortunately for you, I have time.” 

Y/N swallowed before nodding meekly and taking a seat on the other side of his desk. 

“So I thought I would start with why you should hire-“

“Do I frighten you Miss Williams? You look rather frightened.” He cut her off, a small smirk on his face. 

Y/N froze. She didn’t know how to respond to that.

“I’m sorry Mr Styles but I don’t think that’s very relevant to what we need to be-“

“I think it’s relevant. I want to know whether I frighten you or whether you just find me so attractive  that you can’t possibly look me in the eye. Maybe it’s both. I tend to have that effect.” He stood, leaning slightly over his desk, towering over her. 

“Mr Styles that isn’t very appropriate. It also seems like a bit of a personal question and I’d like to keep this professional.“

“It might not be appropriate Miss Williams, but I am curious. You intrigue me. And as for professional well… I’m certainly not one to talk about what happens inside my office.” He smirked again and Y/N genuinely thought she was about to combust. The betrayal that she felt from the wetness between her legs was also overwhelming to the point where she couldn’t take it anymore. What he was offering she was unsure but Y/N had a job and Robert trusted her to do well. 

“Ok well let’s talk. How about we start with the reason you and Mrs Styles feel the need for divorce, so I can properly convince you why our firm is what you need.” Y/N could hardly believe she was rejecting whatever was going on and she also couldn’t believe her voice still worked after all of that. 

It was like a switch. One minute he was flirty and suggestive and wildly inappropriate and the next he was dropping back into his chair, the smirk disappearing from his face and instead replaced by a flicker of annoyance and then… sadness? He recovered from his emotive slip quickly and his original stony features were back. It’s a shame, Y/N thought. He’s rather beautiful when he smiles. 

“She cheated on me.” He said bluntly. 

It took everything in Y/N not to react. But it was almost as though he could tell she was trying to control herself. 

“You can laugh. I would. CEO Harry Styles. Has the world at his fingertips and can’t love anyone enough for them to stay.” He laughed bitterly and Y/N almost wished she could give him a hug. 

“That’s… not what I was thinking.”

“No? You feel sorry for me then? It’s usually one of the two. It’s alright Miss Williams, when you get to where I am in the world you soon realise that everyone leaves sooner or later.” Mr Styles raised his eyebrows, seeming slightly taken aback by his own admittance. Y/N couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming need to reassure him that he would be alright. It seemed behind his arrogance and cocky persona, he was just lonely. 

He cleared his throat, his emotionless mask returning as he checked his watch before looking up at the ceiling and rolling his eyes.

“You have… about a minute of my time remaining before I have other things to be doing. I’ve seen five other candidates today and they were all spectacularly mediocre. So, convince me.”

Y/N hushed the little voice inside that wanted to scream about how he had done most of the talking. Instead, she took a deep breath and explained their plan, just as she had rehearsed in the mirror that morning. She said most of it with her eyes cast downward and when she was finished she raised her gaze slowly, noting the small smirk on his face. 

“Ok. You’re hired.” Mr Styles stood abruptly, ignoring the look of shock that flittered across Y/N’s face. Hired? Just like that?”

“Oh really? Well thank you Mr Styles, I’m sure Mr Collins will be in touch.” Y/N gathered her things, slightly relieved to be escaping from the confines of his office. 

“Hired on one condition. We win and you go out to lunch with me.” It wasn’t a request. More of a statement. 

Y/N’s cheeks flamed as she struggled to compose herself. 

“Mr Styles I really don’t think that’s appr-“

“I don’t really care what-“

“Would you stop cutting me off?! For goodness sake let me speak!” Y/N huffed and rolled her eyes, stopping short at the look on his face. 

“Oh my goodness Mr Styles I am so sorry, I didn’t mean it. Sometimes my mouth starts working before my brain.” Y/N was aware she was rambling but she couldn’t help it. She’d blown the deal, she must have. 

His signature smirk reappeared and Y/N’s shoulder’s relaxed slightly. 

“Don’t apologise Miss Williams. I was riling you up. I like a woman who knows what she wants. Do we have a deal?”

Y/N hesitated before thinking back to Robert’s text. Do whatever it takes. 

“Ok. I’ll… go to lunch with you if we win.”

“Wonderful. When we win you mean. Now I hate to cut this short darling but I really do have places to be. I’m sure I’ll see you soon, tell Robert to give me a call ok?”

With that, he ushered her out the door, closing it behind her. Y/N stood, frozen for a moment before making her way slowly to the elevator. 

What was that?

Harry chuckled to himself as he watched her through the glass walls of his office, talking to herself quietly as she waited for the elevator, cheeks flaming. He got a kick out of making her so nervous, it did great things for his ego. He wasn’t lying, she did intrigue him and if he could convince her, she seemed like the perfect distraction to get his mind off things and a distraction was exactly what he needed right now.

Read Part II here

A/N: So this is part one!! What do you guys think so far? It’s certainly going to get exciting in the next chapter! Thank you for reading xo Let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list!

@lukesaprince @intimacywithceline @styleslover-1994

[catiuskaa]

this close to begging

SUMMARY: an angsty tension formed out of pent-up feelings. a mix of alcohol, changbin and you might find just the way of solving it.

WC: 1.6k

CW: swearing, angsty feelings, drinking, drunk oral sex (f rec.), mentions of degradation and size kink, use of nicknames: bubs, my love, bunny, recreational use of pussydrunk!changbin because I say so, why not, and I think that’s all, folks! (pls tell me if I missed anything!)

TAGGING! @ur-boyfiends-reading, from a fellow seolar <3 hope you like it! (feel no pressure at all if it isn’t your kind of thing tho)

[◾️☆💠☆◾️]

You hadn’t meant it. Of course you hadn’t.

You had been fed up with everyone’s bullshit in the past week. Dealing with the cons of dating an idol was usually fine, but added to the recent stress in your minimum-wage job, with your boss constanltly prancing around and making everyone’s mood so fucking crispy, roaming and firing people in several departments— including yours.

Let’s just say you weren’t in your best of days. Or… weeks.

And Changbin, well, you hadn’t had the heart to tell him just yet. Or to talk. Much to your and his despair, his schedule had also been against you seeing each other. Always full to the brim. Packed to the infinity.

You had barely seen him the past week. Maybe even the one before, which didn’t help at all with your current exhaustion.

Still, it wasn’t an excuse for the argument that stroke between both of you. You couldn’t point out who or what had started it, but the tension made the focal point of the loud discussion change.

“Leave me the fuck alone for a minute, okay!? You’re always clinging to me like a desperate little bitch.”

You froze, hands slightly trembling after those lies came out of your mouth. You hadn’t meant it, at all. You loved your smol little cuddly Binnie. You loved how you would usually wake up with his hands beneath your shirt as he pampered your face and neck with kisses, his hair messy and fluffy and his face puffy from sleep. You couldn’t figure in your head how that sentence had come off. You couldn’t understand it.

Still, for both his and your sanity, you had moved from your shared bed to the first floor, and locked yourself inside the guest’s room, which was never really used by anyone else than the rest of the members whenever they wanted to stay the night.

After you entered the spare room, you heard a ruffle of sorts and then the loud slam of the main door closing.

And since then, a couple of hours had passed.

You didn’t have the heart to text or apologize. You wouldn’t know where to start, and being honest, you weren’t sure he was going to forgive you. In your mind, that was totally plausible and justifiably so.

Where could Changbin gone? Your chest tightened, not daring to get out. What if he had left to stay elsewhere? No, Chan would’ve texted you.

Right?

You sighed, slowly banging your head against the door behind you, feeling the guilt spread through your body.

Brushing off the tears on your cheeks, you stood up, shaking your head, and decided to step out and head to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee.

The silence in the apartment was killing you slowly. Usually, as loud as he could be, Changbin would leave traces of where he was or what he was doing with small sounds. Like the little giggles when he was texting the members. The loud cackles when he watched instagram reels, and the proud snicker when he encountered edits of himself. The low humming when a song got stuck in his head, there it be one of his own creations or the ones he listened to. The small thuds as he practiced choreographys in his study, for tiktok trends or for Felix’s enjoyment.

Now, it was just silence as you sipped from he mug. It was probably not a good idea to have coffee past one am, but you didn’t care.

And then, you heard the struggles of a drunk man trying to open the door.

You hesitated. He was a mess when he was drunk, but now he’d probably be mad. And you kind of deserved it.

Shaking your head, you opened the door, and his body, slightly taller than yours, fell like a puppet, his head nuzzling into your neck as his arms closed around your waist.

“Bubs, y-you’re so preettty,” he sniffed. He was… crying? “Ah… I- m-missed you, sooo, so muchh…” he trailed off, his eyes teary.

You tried to craddle his face or to move him away, and failed to guide him upstairs.

“N-no!” He refused, tightening his grip around you.

“My love, you should go to bed.” You mentioned softly.

His eyes widened, and his head shot up, his hands now cradling your face.

“W-what did you just say?” He muttered. “D-don’t say that. If you… do that… n-no…”

You blinked, pouting unconciously.

“What, baby?” He shivered under your touch when your hands softly grabbed his wrists.

“Remember how… I uh… said that… alcohol… uh…”

The intense blush in his face made you almost jump in your place, your eyebrows shot up slightly.

You were unable to control a smile that creeped from underneath. “My love…” you started, and he almost whimpered. “Are you getting horny?” You whispered, and he nodded against your neck.

“You… you’re just s’prettyy… ‘n you keep wearing my clothes…” his fingers started to trail patterns, slowly riding up an old hoodie of his that you had most definetely stolen.

You licked your lips.

“Let’s get you to bed, yeah? Lemme take care of you.”

His body fell on the bed like dead weight. His eyes were closed, his features so soft you thought he had fallen asleep.

You started taking his shoes off, followed by his socks, because you knew he hated sleeping with them on.

Changbin sighed, and you stopped.

“Bubs, please,” his hand tugged your sleeve. “P-please… just. Just… this once. ‘M so sorry. I’ll fix this. I’ll do whatever I can. I’ll talk to the company or something.” He blabbered messily, and tugged your sleeve harder, swiftly taking your other arm and pulling towards him, making you fall on top of him.

He brushed a couple of stray hairs from your face, and you struggled you find a comfortable position to lie on him.

“B-bunny, w-wait.” His hands stopped your waist. “Fuck, I need you. Please. I know ‘m drunk… just…” his features scrunched up, thinking.

“Love…” you started.

“Wait, I know!” He blurted out. “Just lemme taste you.” He smiled, breathing against your lips, in a way that you could almost taste what he had drinked earlier.

“W-what?”

He whined. “You always taste s’good, bubs. Please. Binnie need this, pleaaase…” he trailed off, peppering messy kisses on your neck.

You felt him harden underneath you as you thought for an answer.

“But we had a fight, love. I don’t want you to do this and feel wrong about it tomorrow.” You said lowly, biting your lip. “Are you sure about this?”

“I know, I know. ‘m drunk, sure, but you still taste so fucking good ‘nd look like a goddess. Thinking I’ll regret this ‘s bullshit.” He mumbled against your skin.

You got lost in thought, and he took that in advantage, rolling his hips against yours.

“You said you’d take care of me,” he whimpers lowly, his voice hoarse. “Kiss me.” Changbin licked his lips, his mouth dry. “Please.”

There was an urgency, a burning desire that crashed through your body as his lips devoured yours after a shy nod. Each touch of his lips sent ripples of warmth through your body, making both of you more hot and bothered as it grew in intensity. It was a kiss that spoke volumes without uttering a word, a language of emotions conveyed through the mixture of breaths. A way of apologizing from before and a form of drunk reassurance.

The taste was a mixture of the drinks he had taken and your flavoured chapstick, tongues clashing against one another as his hands moved to your waist and turned both of you. With his figure over yours, he parted your legs with soft strokes on your thigh, leaning in, unable to separate from your lips, taste stronger and more addicting than any drink he could’ve found over at the bar.

When you broke apart, a thin strand of drool followed your lips, and without missing a beat, Changbin licked it clean. You panted, your hand on his chest as both of you stared at each other, eyes, lips, taking in the other’s untamed beauty. It was a moment suspended in time, entering your shared bubble back in what felt like months of craving.

Changbin went right back, biting your bottom lip, trailing lustful kisses down your neck, taking your and his clothes off as if they burned, nonchalantly throwing them elsewhere.

“So good, my cute little bunny… already wet, huh?” He snickered, leaving marks on your neck and trailing dow, playfully biting the inside of your thighs. “Binnie’ll make ya feel s’good.”

His kisses started to get closer and closer to your core, making your sigh impatiently, whimpering. He cooead at you, and planted a teasing kiss on your cunt.

You squirmed on your place. “B-binnie…!”

“Shhh, bunny. S’okay.” Changbin smirked slyly, dragging his tongue on you in languid strokes. He grunted when you started moaning louder, your hands now in his hair, his mouth spread wide on you.

As you started babbling in pleasure, he started making out with your sloppy cunt more vigorously, tugging at your thighs, like he wanted to be crushed by them.

“Y’know, fuck…” he moans, and it travels all through your body. “when ya said I was a desperate lil’ bitch… fuck… made me so horny…”

He stared at you from in between your legs. “Binnie’s such a desperate slut for bunny, huh?”

He spread you open with two slender finger, moaning just by feeling how small you are and how you clenched around his fingers, imagining how tight you'd be around him, and he started grinding against the matress unconciously.

He stops grinding when you moan his name and grasp his hair, and lets you ride his face as you reel in pleasure.

You whine when his kisses get too intense and he comes up, his arousal all over his lips and chin, kissing you with all tongue and teeth, allowing you to taste yourself.

“We’ll keep going in the morning,” he panted. “Can’t have enough of you.” Changbin murmured against your neck, falling asleep with you.

~kats, who wrote this while blasting ‘careless whisper’ on her headphones just to see how far she could take it.

THINK I DID OK AS MY FIRST ACTUAL SMUT?!

[moonlessdusk]

I’m over analyzing this scene to spread mkulia propaganda

But also I would like to show everyone that believes that MK and Julia don’t actually care for each other and would coldly betray each other The Scene from Episode 8.

The premise for this conversation is that in the last challenge, Chris broke the campers down into teams of three, two of which had a sabotage option and MK had an ultimately unhelpful advantage that a teammate chose. After being set back by the third team, Julia opted to use her sabotage on MK, who had a huge lead. Julia and her team ultimately won the challenge and immunity in part because of the sabotage.

The editing here is strange because Julia had an unrelated confessional, followed by a scene from Zee and confessional from him but the scene opens presumingly right after her confessional. It’s early morning and MK is right outside the confessional, claiming to have been looking for Julia all morning. From what we know of MK, she would not care to expend the energy looking for anything unless she thought it would give her an advantage. But no, she says she was looking for Julia specifically because she was anxious that Julia was avoiding her. Look at her face, she’s genuinely concerned when she says this; MK usually has some kind of sarcastic/snide remark when she’s not being serious.

Julia tries at first to laugh off the notion as if it’s no big deal, but she’s doing an unusually bad job at doing it. This is unusual for Julia because we know she knows how to act and play people, that’s all she did for the first half of the last season. But consider thematically that MK is the *reason* Julia got to be her authentic self after being ousted as a fraud and how Julia said it felt right to just be herself. It has to feel particularly wrong to lie to MK when the premise of their relationship is appreciating each other for their real selves.

Look at how quick Julia’s facade drops and MK’s face knowing it’s a lie:

MK, who again, has a tendency to make sarcastic remarks, just says “So, yes,” when Julia tries to deny avoiding her. Then she glances away like this before trying to reassure Julia that she’s not mad:

She actually looks uncomfortable, like she’s not used to having to reassure people like this and she’s generally awkward trying to get the words out. If MK didn’t care, if she was lying about actively looking for Julia, she easily could’ve scripted this out and throw in her signature snarking humor. We know from her audition tape that she’s also good at being sneaky and we know from past episodes that she enjoys seeing people squirm, but there’s no indication she’s enjoying this conversation.

What her assurance essentially breaks down to is saying she’s not mad at Julia for using her sabotage on her. After she says this she pauses because she spots Zee shenanigans behind Julia but tries to refocus but we see Julia give MK this look:

It’s a very subtle detail but Julia slightly lifts her head and raises her eyebrows. She looks like she can’t believe someone is actually forgiving her despite doing what any other person on the island would perceive as a backstabbing. Considering the ruthless way she played last season and her strategy to just keep winning immediately, it could be argued that she was just worried she burned a bridge and would have to do it again. But if that was the case, she wouldn’t just be silently listening to what MK had to say, she’d just go back to being The Mean Girl.

But she doesn’t and MK begins to elaborate that she thinks they make a great team and she begins to say “All I want is for—” before total drama does what it does and undercuts the moment with Zee’s shenanigans. It being these two though, I can’t imagine MK saying something too sentimental though and it’s clearly water under the bridge as they immediately agree to mess with Zee and are back to doing confessionals together.

I could go on and on about different scenes that reinforced this one. I just totally refute the idea that they aren’t genuine with each other because they have what feels like the most planned out dynamic of the new generation. It’s not out of character for these two to have gotten along so quickly or for them to care about each other like this.

We’re just watching a yuritastic slow burn.

[dycefic]

The Strange Case Of The Amateur Detective

At some point, surely someone must notice the pattern... right? Note: Beginning slightly edited for clarity.

##

It took a while, but I’ve convinced Maggie to tell me when she goes out of town. I’ll feel better, I say, if I know for sure where she is when a body makes the news.

Which is true, of course. The sheer frequency with which that little lunatic does it keeps me awake at nights. But it also enables me to take certain precautions.

Like this one.

“Hello, Branford County Police Station, Constable Ford speaking.”

“Hello, Constable Ford, this is Detective Inspector Winsbury. I’m going to need to speak to whoever is in charge there about a possible murder.”

As usual, there was some back and forth at that point, but eventually I got through to an Inspector. “What do you mean, a possible murder?!” he asked, irritated.

“Just what I said. Tell me, Inspector, have you ever had dealings with an amateur detective? The real thing, I mean. The genuine Carrion Crow.”

His tone went from hostile to guarded. “I’ve… heard some things. Never met one.”

“You’re about to. Mine’s visiting Branford, ostensibly to see an old school friend, and I wouldn’t bet you the price of a beer that she’s not going to show up to report a murder within a few days.”

“You can’t possibly - “

“Her count’s at fourteen, to my certain knowledge.”

“And you’re sure she’s not just a very clever serial killer?”

They usually ask that. It’s understandable, if a bit annoying. “Not only have I been physically with her at the time three of the murders were committed, two were committed before she was born. That’d be pretty damned clever, don’t you think?”

“Oh, hell.”

“Yes. If you’ve got any old missing persons cases, or unsolved murders, get the files out and refresh your memory. I’d go back at least fifty years, if I were you. Focus on anything mysterious or that got covered up.”

“She’s likely to find a fifty-year-old corpse?!”

“I was standing right there when she found a hundred-and-nine year old set of remains in the walls of an old church she was helping to renovate, less than five minutes into the renovations.”

He let out a heartfelt groan. “Oh no.”

“It’s not so bad,” I said encouragingly. “Maggie’s better than a cadaver dog for finding remains, although even she doesn’t know how she does it, and even better at putting together evidence. She’s got a knack for seeing patterns where nobody else does. Whatever case she turns up, she’ll help you solve it within… oh, probably a few days, a week at most.”

“Really?” The Inspector sounded like he was wavering between skepticism and hope. “I’ve heard stories about Carrion Crows and their closure rate, but I can’t say I ever believed them.”

“Believe them. The longest it’s ever taken her was a month, and that was because she spent two weeks in hospital in the middle of it, and there was a delay on some of the evidence.” I leaned back in my chair, putting my feet up on my desk. “She’s pretty cooperative, as a rule. Not one of those ones who wants to beat the police - she’ll work with you if you let her. If you don’t, she’ll solve it anyway and make you look like a real chump, so let her. Stay on her, though, because she’s got a bit of an impulse control problem when she’s on a scent.”

“She’s likely to run into danger?”

“Mmm, no, not often - she’s just turned fifty, she’s slowing down a bit - but keeping her from touching the evidence can be a problem. She knows not to, but sometimes in the heat of the moment she forgets.”

“Ah. Yes, I see.”

“If you’ve got any strapping young lads or lasses who show some promise, assign one to her. She’s usually pretty nice to anyone under thirty if they make a mistake, but she gets snippy at someone she thinks is old enough to know better. They’ll learn a lot.”

“And she won’t ditch them?”

“Almost never if they’re polite, especially if you ask her to keep an eye on them. Just make sure they don’t argue with her too much, or scoff at her deductions, or she will absolutely ditch them and they will never know how she did it. Even I don’t know, and we’ve been working together for years.”

“I see.” He sighed, and the faint rasping was probably a hand rubbing over his chin. “A real Carrion Crow. Does she know… why?”

“What made her Death’s favourite girl? No. They usually don’t. I know there’s always stories about the murder of a loved one setting them on the path, but that’s actually pretty rare.” I’d done a lot of research, after I realized what Maggie was. “Most Carrion Crows have no idea why they start finding bodies. There’s no consistent trigger for it.”

“No kind of pattern at all?”

“Well, no, I didn’t say that. There’s no consistency about trigger events, but Carrion Crows themselves do tend to conform to a certain type. They’re usually very detail-oriented, and good at analyzing patterns. They’re always curious. If presented with half a story, they can’t resist finding the other half. They’re usually self-employed, or retired on a moderate income, or in a job that allows them a lot of snooping time, like a reporter or researcher.”

“That makes sense,” he said slowly. “The… gift, or whatever it is, comes to people who have the time and ability to use it.”

“Almost invariably.” I examined the scuffed toe of one of my boots. “And they care about people. They’re compassionate. I’ve never encountered or heard of a real Carrion Crow who was selfish.”

“Carrion Crows are always good people?” Now he just sounded confused.

“That depends on your definition of good. Criminals have been Crows in the past. One of the earliest confirmed cases of a Carrion Crow was a young pickpocket in London in the 1820s. But they’re people who care about other people. It’s one of the reasons they find out so much more than we do - people under pressure respond to kindness and compassion. It makes them want to confide.”

“Ahhhh.” He sounded enlightened. “That I understand. I have a sergeant like that. Got a face like a gargoyle, but everyone loves him because he’s just… kind, to everyone. People tell him all sorts of things.”

“Maybe don’t pair him up with Maggie, or they might achieve some sort of critical mass. A tea-party could spontaneously form around them.” I laughed at that mental image. “Anyway, if a tiny little middle-aged lady with big brown eyes and a horrible cardigan shows up and tells you there’s been a murder, take her seriously.”

“Will do. Thanks for the warning.”

I left my name and number, in case they needed more help, then hung up.

Nobody knows what causes a person to become a Carrion Crow. They’re not common, and you can spend a whole career in law enforcement without meeting one. But sometimes, for reasons nobody’s ever been able to explain, a hitherto perfectly ordinary person turns into a magnet for murder. It’s as if Death itself just taps them on the shoulder and says ‘you’. As if Death itself wants murders to be solved, the lost dead found, the unknown dead named, and their killers brought to justice.

Who knows? Maybe it does. All I know is, they need a close eye kept on them. A lot of Crows wind up murdered themselves, by someone desperate not to be caught. That’s why I call ahead every time Maggie leaves town. Why I’ll even follow her, if I can’t get the local police to listen to me.

Maggie cares about people, living and dead. And I care about Maggie. Anyone trying to kill her is going to have to get past me.

[alwaysonthemend]

Author’s Note: Hello my horny friends. I hope this fic finds you well. Have some vulgar Jacob smut. This is self-indulgent, as it usually is. Jake makes me question my sanity… this fic is merely a glimpse for you all into my madness. This is a little on the shorter side but when it's literally just porn and no plot that's what happens. Also VERY minimally edited so apologies in advance. 

Once again, this fic wouldn’t exist if it weren’t for @jakeyt I hope you know that I love you so much and I’m so glad I have you in my life. Your constant encouragement means the world. 

Content Warnings: Oral (f rec) p in v sex, unprotected sex, breeding kink, cussing, dirty talk, Jake being cocky. 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI

Word Count: 2927

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The thing is, it never really gets easier – the whole long distance thing that is. You get better at it, sure. But it never actually becomes easier to deal with. If anything, you only miss him more when he’s gone than you used to. Jake has this… aura about him that draws you into him – pulling you into his orbit whether you want to be or not. Though he’s not known to his fans as the loud one (that title remains firmly on Josh), Jake’s personality when he’s with you is anything but subdued. He’s sweet like no other man you’ve ever met, and can make you laugh harder than anyone else, and the comfort that he radiates is unparalleled. And so his absence is only made all the more painful the longer you’ve been with him. 

This time especially, going on almost two months without getting to see him, you’re physically aching to be near him again. Daily texts and FaceTimes only satisfy you so much, and at this point you’re desperate. He’s coming home tonight and your body is practically vibrating with your excitement as you tidy up things around the house in order to pass the time. 

He’d said he’d be home around 7pm and god have these past few hours been the longest of your entire life. You’ve showered and shaved – making sure to use the body wash that Jake loves the smell of; and you’ve slipped into the little lingerie set that always drives him nuts, coupled with nothing but one of his old t-shirts. The two of you had phone sex a few times throughout his absence, but the action only ever leaves the both of you aching and missing the other even more. Jake has always been a tactile individual, loving the feeling of you and the feeling of the two of you together. So you know that as soon as he gets home he’s going to be all over you. That at least, is one positive of his long absences. Fuck is the welcome home sex incredible.

Taking a seat on the sofa, you glance up at the clock for what feels like the millionth time. 

7:07pm 

You clench your thighs in anticipation as you watch the front door. You’re almost embarrassed by the way you're literally sitting here waiting like a dog for its owner to come home. But it really has been so long so you figure you’ve earned the right to be this desperate.

You glance up again. 

7:16

Furrowing your brow, you check your phone to see if he’s texted you. Nothing. 

Sighing, you click your phone off and place it back down on the table. 

Another five minutes. 

You check your phone again. Then the clock. Then your phone again. You fix your hair. Check the clock again. 

And just when it hits 7:45 and you’re about to pick up your phone to call him, the front door practically slams open and in steps Jake – looking frazzled and annoyed but no less handsome than he had the last time you saw him. 

“Fuck, I hate airports.” His voice is the same as you remember it too – deep and soft as it envelopes you like a warm hug. 

Rising from your seat quickly, you stride over to where he’s standing, surveying his appearance for a moment. His hair is slightly longer, the ends resting just below his shoulders. He’s shaved since the last time you FaceTimed, but the barely there dusting of hair that adorns his top lip lets you know that maybe he’s thinking of growing it out again. 

You both stand there for a second, eyeing the other in a strange dance of anticipation. Finally, you reach out and grip his wrist, tugging him in close to you. Almost as if the action broke the seal, suddenly he’s on you, shoving you backwards until your back slams into the wall. 

“Jake.” You whine, but he silences you by sealing his lips over yours, immediately plunging his tongue into your waiting mouth. It’s all teeth and tongues and there’s nothing but desperation behind it as he practically devours you. The both of you moan as his bulge presses against you. 

“Missed you so much, angel.” He breathes out between kisses, and all you can do is whimper in response as his plush lips trail down to your throat, nipping and biting as he goes. 

You bring your hands up to tangle in his hair, tugging on it hard to get a reaction from him. Never one to disappoint, a groan rumbles through his chest at the sting. 

His strong hands grip your hips and lift, effortlessly picking you up and you wrap your legs around his waist to steady yourself. His mouth doesn’t leave your skin once as he walks the two of you over to the sofa before he unceremoniously deposits you onto it.

Still trapped between your thighs, Jake sinks to the floor onto his knees. 

“Missed you too. So much.” You tell him, gripping his shoulders and digging your fingers into the hard muscle that lies hidden beneath his button down shirt. 

He pulls away from you for a moment and his eyes look practically black as he stares at you. His chest is heaving and his lips are already swollen and slick with spit. You’re sure that you probably look even worse off than he does as your desperation for him grows with each passing second.

“I’ve been thinking about this for days.” He admits, splaying his palms out on your thighs and spreading your knees apart. His eyes trail downwards and you watch with rapt attention as they widen slightly as he sees the deep green lace of your panties. A wolfish grin spreads across his lips. “These are my favorite.” 

“I know.” Your voice comes out quiet, almost a whisper. “Put them on just for you.” 

“You spoil me.” His finger trails across your clothed center, just barely pressing into your clit through the fabric. 

You whine and spread your legs wider, begging him to finally touch you where you need him. 

“And as gorgeous as you look in these…” He says, hooking his fingers in the elastic and tugging. “You look even better without them.” 

He slides the lacey fabric down your legs, allowing you to kick them off onto the floor. His eyes rake across you, greedily taking in the sight of your drenched pussy for the first time in weeks. 

“Fuck.” He whispers, licking his lips and running a calloused finger through your folds. “Even prettier than I remember.” 

Sweeping his eyes up to yours, Jake grips your thighs again tightly before diving into you, sucking on your clit and drawing a loud moan from you. 

“Jake!” Your eyes slam shut at the immediate relief of his mouth on you. 

He’s eating you out like it’s his job, plunging his tongue into you roughly as his nose presses into your swollen bundle of nerves. Your moans and whines are interrupted by his own sounds – tiny little groans and grunts as he diligently brings you closer and closer to the edge of climax. 

Embarrassingly fast, that coil in your belly begins to tighten and you reach down to tug on his hair in warning. Instead of drawing away, Jake only renews his efforts and the coil snaps as your orgasm tears through you. He laps up your release without pause, moaning at the taste of you before pulling away.

“That was fast.” He grins, a smug smirk overtaking him. 

“Fuck off. It’s been too long.” You tell him, trying to catch your breath. 

“Or I’m just that fucking good.” 

You shake your head at him, fighting a grin. 

“Mmm. Missed you being a cocky little shit.” You tell him, sarcasm clear in your tone. 

“Did you now?” He hedges, narrowing his eyes at you playfully. 

“Oh yeah. I really miss- Oh!”

Without warning, Jake plunges a finger into you, immediately finding that spot inside you that drives you fucking wild. 

“What was that?” He asks, adding another finger. 

You can’t answer, too focused on the heavenly feeling of his fingers that you missed so much. 

“I’ll tell you what I missed.” He says, fingers picking up their pace as he fucks you with them. “I missed this pretty pussy. And I missed those lovely sounds that you make when I hit that special little spot inside of you.” He punctuates his sentences by curling his fingers upwards and brushing your g-spot, drawing a loud cry from you. “Like that one. Fuck, I missed that sound.” 

“Jesus Christ.” You moan, overcome with pleasure as he presses his thumb into your clit, rubbing tight circles over you. 

This is so much better than all those nights on the phone with him – nights where you lay there wishing that it was his fingers pleasuring you and not your own. But now he’s finally here, and the combination of having him after so long coupled with his stupidly talented fingers has your second orgasm approaching just as quickly as the first. 

“Come on, angel.” He encourages, eyes glued to where his fingers fuck in and out of you. “Give it to me.” 

The band snaps for the second time, and this time the feeling is white hot and overwhelming, leaving you with shaky legs and a brain completely absent of any conscious thought. 

“Jacob!” You whine, body left reeling as he pulls his fingers from you. “I need your cock. Please. Fuck, I need it.” You beg, reaching out to him to pull him in closer. 

“I know. I know, angel.” He mutters, extracting himself from your grip and standing up. He quickly unbuttons his shirt and tosses it to the ground before turning away from you. You furrow your brows for a moment as you watch him start to leave before realization washes over you. 

Condom your brain finally supplies. He’s going to get a condom. 

As if acting on its own accord, your hand darts out to wrap around his wrist, stopping him. He turns back to you, confusion clouding his eyes as he takes in your expression. 

Before you can talk yourself out of it, you shake your head at him. 

“No condom.” 

“But-” he starts, turning back around to face you fully. “You’re not on birth control.” 

“I know.” You say as you stare into his eyes, silently begging for him to catch on to what you mean. 

He does, and his mouth parts in surprise as your meaning finally hits him. 

“Y/n.” He hedges, taking a step back towards you. “You-” he stops himself, unsure and afraid of reading the situation wrong. 

“I miss you so much when you’re gone, Jake.” You admit, pulling him even closer to you. “Want something of yours to keep with me when you leave.” 

Jake groans, dropping his hand downwards to palm his hard cock. 

“Fuck, are you sure?” He sounds fucking wrecked – voice broken in a way you haven’t heard it before. 

“Very.” You assure him, biting your lip as you glance up at him. “I’ve been thinking about it since you left. I want it so bad, Jake.” 

“I need to hear you say it, Y/n.” His eyes are dark as he watches you, chest heaving as the weight of your words seem to finally sink in. 

“Jake,” you start, willing him to see just how serious you are. “I want you to fill me up. Put a baby in me. Please, Jake.” 

He moans loudly and he looks almost pained as you speak. Without hesitation, he practically rips the button of his jeans open before shoving them downwards, yanking his boxers down with them. His cock springs free, slapping his stomach and weeping with precum. You’ve never seen him so hard before – the velvety skin shiny and red. You spread your legs and scoot backwards, pressing your back into the arm of the sofa. He all but collapses onto the sofa between your legs and a fresh wave of slick gushes from you as you see the slight tremble of his shoulders. He’s fucking shaking. 

“Say it again.” He demands, grabbing his length and sliding his tip through your folds, gathering your wetness and spreading it over himself. 

“Put a baby in me, Jake. Fill me up. I want it so bad.”

“Fuck.” He whines – an honest to god whine, before he plunges into you. 

You let out a loud wail as he finally enters you, stretching you deliciously. 

“I missed your cock so much!” You cut yourself off with another moan. You reach upwards and hook your hands behind his shoulders to pull him into you, capturing his lips with yours as he pounds into you. 

“Fuck, baby.” His voice is deeper than it ever has been before and it cracks slightly on the last word. “You wanna know what I think about when I’m up there on stage?”

You nod, dropping your head backwards and wrapping your legs around him to pull him in deeper. 

“God.” He starts, moaning loudly before continuing on breathlessly. “I think about you. Every fucking time.” He grabs your ankle and tosses it up over his shoulder, making his cock sink even deeper into you. “I imagine you like this. Beneath me. I get so worked up just thinking about it. Like I could just fucking explode right up there on stage."

“Jake.” You whine, but there’s nothing to follow it up with. It’s like you’re in a fog, aware of nothing beyond the man on top of you and the delicious feeling of his cock pounding into you so fucking deep. 

“It gets me so hard, angel. So hard it hurts. All those people screaming my name but it’s you that I’m thinking about.”

"Is that why you hump your poor guitar?" You manage to stutter out breathlessly.

Jake chuckles and nods his head.

"Can't fucking help it "

You lean upwards and kiss him again, biting his bottom lip between your teeth. Your brain can’t seem to create words anymore and all coherent thought has long since flown out the window.

Jake groans into the kiss before dropping his chin to press his forehead into yours. His hips snap into you at a bruising pace and you know that you’ll be sore tomorrow. 

“M’gonna cum, Jake." You warn through clenched teeth. "Fuck I’m cumming!” Your climax is sharp – slicing through you with reckless abandon as Jake keeps fucking you through it. Your entire body trembles and the wet sound of Jake’s length slamming in and out of you is fucking obscene. 

Roughly, Jake grabs your waist and turns you over and your hands scramble to try and catch yourself from face planting into the arm of the sofa. Grabbing your hips in both hands, Jake pulls you back into him to meet each thrust. The room is filled with nothing but the sound of his skin hitting yours and the moans and whines spilling from the both of you 

“Oh my god. Oh my god, Jake. Fuck!” You practically scream. “Right fucking there!”

“You’re mine, angel.” He growls into your ear. “Gonna fill you up. Get you fucking pregnant. Show everyone that you belong to me.” 

“Fill me up, Jake. Sir, please.” The ‘sir’ slips out of you on instinct, and you can feel Jake starting to lose his control. He’s fucking you harder than he ever has – his movements practically feral.

“God, the fans...” He starts, reaching his right hand up to tangle in your hair and pull – causing you to arch backwards into him. “They’re gonna fucking lose it seeing you all big and round with MY baby. Jesus.” 

“I want it so bad, Jake. Knock me up! Please!” Your words are starting to slur together and you can feel it as your body starts to tremble and shake. It feels like your nerve endings are on fire. 

“You’re gonna be so fucking sexy when you’re pregnant, Y/n.” He growls, his pace beginning to falter. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” 

“Give it to me, Jake.” You beg, tossing your head back with a moan as he reaches his hand around you to circle your clit. 

“Gonna give it to you, angel. Get you fucking fat and pregnant. Fuck!”

A high pitch moan escapes you as you cum again, and the feeling of your walls clenching around his length has him spilling into you. 

He groans loudly as he finishes – louder than you’ve ever heard him as he rocks his hips into you, making sure to get every last drop of his release deep inside of you. 

Finally, he collapses into you – utterly spent. You both lay there in silence, the sweat covering both of you causing your skin to stick together, though both of you are too tired to care. 

Eventually, he pulls out of you, hissing as he goes. You roll over onto your back, taking in the fucked out expression on his face. 

“Hi.” You say, grinning up at him. 

“Hi, baby.” His smile back to you is soft and his eyes practically glitter as they look at you. “Think it worked?”

You giggle softly. 

“I hope so. If not, we’ll just have to try again.”

“We should probably just go ahead and try again tomorrow anyway. Just to be safe.” 

That draws a real laugh out of you, and he leans down to press a sweet kiss to your lips. 

“Y/n.” He says suddenly, pulling away from the kiss with wide eyes. “I’ve just realized something.” 

“What?” You ask, taken aback by his abruptness. 

“Your boobs are gonna get so big.” He says with a wolfish grin, and you sigh at him dramatically. 

“Jacob Thomas Kiszka, you are a menace.”

--------

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[it-happened-one-fic]

Hi, there! :D

I saw the new event once a book and I thought it was interesting, If it's not too much trouble I would like to request:

Fandom: TWST (Silver x Fem reader) Story: Charming Fairytale the Book: A book that has been lovingly re-covered in now sun-faded fabric. <3

If my order does not convince you, you can discard it without problems, but if not, take your time and without pressure. Thank you. The new event made me excited, you are one of my favorite twst writers and I am happy to finally place an order here

Oh my goodness! I’m so touched that you like my writings and I’m thrilled to write a fic for you. In all honesty, the book selection actually serves as the character selection, but since I didn't clearly indicate that int he even, I've written two fics for you. One for Silver and one for the book you chose. The one for Silver is below (which was written and edited while I listened to “Entendez-Vous” by Cécile Corbel, but I’ll make sure to link the other one to you as well! I hope you enjoy your tale(s)!

600 Followers event!

Happily Ever After - Silver

Type: Female reader/ fluff/ romance implied/ charming fairytale/ isekai

Word count: 2465

I had to give it to the enchanted book I'd been sucked into; I had been given a very simple role. Find the lost prince and return him to his home so he could save the land from the rule of an evil witch.

It was a pretty basic fairytale plot, and I could only hope that finishing the story would result in me going back to Twisted Wonderland. If it didn’t, I really didn’t know what I could do other than place all of my hopes in Silver.

After all, he had been in the room with me when I’d opened the enchanted book that had, quite literally, pulled me into its story.

I scrambled up onto a rock, glancing around in search of some place that looked even vaguely like where I thought a lost prince might hide or be hidden.

To be honest, I fully suspected that he’d been locked away more so than he had been lost, since that seemed far more in line with what I’d expect from a fairytale about a supposedly lost prince.

But then, this particular fairytale had already surprised me in that there was a dude in distress with a lady savior rather than the usual damsel with a male hero. But then, I quite possibly wasn’t actually the hero of this story like I’d been thinking I was.

But no matter exactly what my role was, I was the one attempting to find the lost royal that the country was counting on to save the day.

I felt my eyebrows lift as I spied a shadowy castle that wasn’t terribly far from where I currently stood and did look almost exactly like what I’d expect from a place where a royal in distress would be kept.

I nodded slightly to myself before setting off, my pace fairly leisurely as I made my way towards the dark castle that looked like it had seen better days.

I almost smiled as I noticed the bats fluttering around the towers that stretched up towards the sky. A nice, almost gothic touch to the overall villainous aesthetic of the castle.

What made the place even better from my point of view was that the massive gate was open, and I had no difficulty getting in. In fact, I quite literally just walked into the place.

I did have to admit, though, that the fact that I’d gotten in so easily did beg the question of why this lost prince hadn’t simply escaped or come home on his own?

There was, of course, the possibility that I’d wholly misunderstood this situation and that I was dealing with a runaway prince rather than a hostage situation.

A runaway prince who was plot-ordained to save the country would make for an interesting tale, though it certainly wouldn’t be that of your typical fairytale.

More of a subversion than anything.

I frowned slightly as I walked around the seemingly abandoned castle that looked like it was steadily crumpling into nothing.

It was the sort of place Malleus would like, but that hardly helped my current dilemma.

Because if this prince was a runaway, he would probably be hiding from me. But if he were instead a hostage, like I’d initially suspected, then the first place I’d look would be in the dungeons or the tallest tower.

I glanced up at the towers, grimacing slightly at the thought of going into the mass of rocks that looked like they were about to collapse the very second a wind blew through.

I paused in my survey of the castle, though, feeling my eyebrows arch as I caught sight of a door that looked far heftier than any of the others. And it wasn’t just that either; that section of the castle also seemed far sturdier than the rest.

I rolled my shoulders and braced my hands on the dark wood before pushing, only for nothing to happen, causing me to frown at the weight of the door.

I inhaled deeply, though, and leaned fully into my shove as I dug in with my heels. I breathed through my motions as I slowly started walking forward, pushing the door open slowly but surely before I stumbled to a stop and looked up into the room beyond. 

It was mostly dim, with only a bit of sunlight filtering in through the damaged roof above and spotlighting a single area on the dais. But otherwise, it looked wholly uninhabited, and no one was obviously hiding in it either.

I hesitated, though, frowning as I listened closely to a distant sound that slowly became clearer until I could identify it. Footsteps.

I glanced around, my eyes searching for the person, until a figure became visible as it approached the dais.

I felt my eyes widen as he stepped into the light that made his pale hair shine in perfect opposition to the darkness that was all around.

And he looked like a perfect prince. A dark uniform with silver epaulets and a sword hanging at his side. It was almost like I was looking at a picture out of a storybook, and I blinked up at him, hardly believing my eyes as my words failed me.

At odds with my speechlessness, he spoke in an almost tired tone, “Y/n… I wondered where you were.” 

I blinked, almost like I was snapping out of a spell at the sound of his soft voice, and my voice returned to me, “You’re the lost prince??”

I openly gaped up at him, but I couldn’t help but be shocked that all of this time I’d been looking for him. Somehow, it seemed oddly fitting. I had gotten the strange sensation that I’d been searching for him my entire life before, but I’d always shaken it off and refused to ask him if he’d ever had that same sensation.

Despite my surprise, Silver was just like he always was. Utterly stoic and seemingly unbothered as he nodded at me. 

I could only assume he’d gotten used to his role in this book just I like had, but I still found myself walking towards him with surprise still rolling through me, “You got sucked into the book too?”

It was another rather obvious question, but if he was bothered, he certainly didn’t show it. Instead, he just nodded before calmly walking down the stairs and meeting me in the middle of the room.

“Have you been in this place the whole time?” I found myself scanning him for injuries or anything else of the sort, but he seemed wholly unharmed.

“Yes, this castle seems to be cursed to keep from leaving,” He explained calmly, turning and walking over to the still open door only to be stopped short of exiting by a wall that shimmered into place.

I had been right. He wasn’t a runaway prince at all. He was being held hostage, no doubt by the witch that was currently ruling the country.

I felt myself frown as he stepped backwards, causing the wall to disappear once more as he turned to look back at me.

On the bright side, I now knew why it had been so easy for me to get into this place. But on the down side, I had no idea how to get him off here if this castle was specifically enchanted to keep him in.

And to make matters worse, if I couldn’t get him out, then we were stuck just in here, but in this story, and since he was in here, no one back in Twisted Wonderland would know where we were.

But then, I also didn’t know if finishing this story would get us out. For all I knew, we might be trapped in an endless rotation of the same story over and over again.

I glanced over at Silver before walking over to join him by the open door, “Do you know if finishing the story will get us out of this book?”

I watched him closely and prayed he knew the answer, only to sigh as he shook his head, a slight frown of his own appearing on his face, “No. I’d heard of enchanted books from Father, but he never mentioned how one got out of such a book.”

I watched him silently for a moment before inhaling and turning my gaze back to the door, “Well, working with the idea that finishing the story will get us out. We have to get you out of this castle first.”

I paused, glancing back his way before I continued, “Do you know anything about the curse on this place that’s keeping you inside?”

Again, I was desperately hoping he did because, despite all of the information I had received the very moment I’d woken up in this tale, none of it had anything about cursed castles.

A smile briefly flickered across Silver’s face as he nodded, shifting slightly to better face me, “Yes, ‘Only through the help of another who truly cares can the lost prince escape his home of old.’”

He spoke like he was reciting something, though I didn’t know. Perhaps a prophecy his character came pre-downloaded with or something.

I felt myself frown as I echoed his words, “‘His home of old’?? Was this the old royal castle or something?”

Silver shook his head, the motion disturbing his hair so that it was laying more like it usually did rather than the way it had been carefully placed beforehand.

I let out a hum, abandoning my questions about this story’s plot in favor of focusing on the rest of what Silver had said.

Only through the help of another who truly cares.

It sounded suspiciously like an explanation for how to break a curse since most fairytales usually include some sort of way to save cursed individuals.

Though, admittedly, that usually involved a kiss. A thought that had me avoiding looking at Silver and instead staring out the open door.

After a brief moment, I glanced back over his way once more. At the very least, I did care about Silver. I had for quite some time now, even if I often did my best to avoid thinking about it in favor of not messing up the friendship we currently had.

But, since I cared, that meant that I should be able to get him out of this castle.

I smiled at him slightly and held out my hand, watching as he glanced down at my palm before he reached over and carefully took my hand in his and looked my way expectantly.

I held up our conjoined hands between us, “Trust me?”

A smile flickered across his face at my light teasing before he nodded, and I grinned, “Alright then….”

I trailed off as I lowered our hands and tightened my grip on his hand as I turned to face the door once more. I inhaled, bracing myself before taking a step forward with Silver at my side, following my motions perfectly and even matching my stride as he stepped forward with me.

And at first, there was a strange sensation of being engulfed. Almost like something was pressing in on us from all sides.

And then, as quickly as breathing, it was over, and we were outside. But we weren’t just outside the room. We were also outside the entire castle, and I found myself glancing behind us in surprise.

“I can’t believe it worked…” My words were barely muttered, but were wholly honest. I really had expected it to be harder to actually get him out of the castle.

I turned to look at Silver, only to feel myself go still as my gaze collided with his, and I saw the way he was smiling at me. With gentle fondness. Just like he had ever since I’d gotten to know him.

And though I’d already thought it, I couldn’t help but wonder at how he really was the perfect choice for a fairytale prince. Almost unfairly so.

“W- Well, I guess now all that’s left is to get you back home,” I managed a smile despite the way my voice wavered.

Something flickered in his gaze that bordered on amusement. Almost like he knew exactly what effect he had on me, but he didn’t say anything about it. Allowing me a small bit of dignity even as he squeezed my hand lightly, causing my eyes to widen as he spoke, “And to get both of us back to Twisted Wonderland.”

I blinked slightly before feeling a genuine smile stretch across my face and I nodded, “Yeah.”

I gazed at him for a brief moment longer, letting myself relax now that I wasn’t alone in this storybook and had him by my side. But then something shifted.

He noticed it at the same time I did, his gaze sharpening before he whirled. Putting me behind him as he reached over and grasped his sword.

I stepped closer to him, glancing around warily, “What's going on?”

He shook his head, his voice solemn and lacking all of the warmth it had just previously held when it had just been the two of us standing together, “I don’t know. Something’s wrong.”

His words were the only warning I was given before the world bled away into white, slowly absorbing everything else into it. The last thing I saw was Silver whirling to look back at me with a determined expression before even he disappeared from sight, and all of the whiteness that threatened to blind me turned black. 

I twitched slightly, and then my eyes flew open as I inhaled sharply.

The first thing I really registered was Sebek’s voice bellowing “HUMAN!!” as Lilia leaned over me with an amused smile.

I blinked up at the fae in alarm as he titled his head, his eyes glittering with amusement, “Looks like you both made it home just fine.”

I almost frowned in confusion as my brain fought to slowly catch up to reality before I realized that we were in the school library. I shifted before freezing as I realized something was wrapped around my waist that shifted with me.

I slowly twisted, my eyes widening as I made eye contact with Silver, who smiled at me slightly in an almost apologetic fashion as I realized what, or rather, who, I was sitting on.

“Do you know how this story ends, Malleus? It is a Briar Valley classic, after all,” Lilia’s tone was beyond amused as he spoke from behind me.

I heard Malleus hum in response as I sat, frozen in mortified embarrassment, in Silver’s lap. And somehow, Malleus’s response just made it all the worse, “Of course, how could I not? ‘And so they lived happily ever after.’”