#flutter contact list example

[fluttertutorialhub]

How to get a contact list from your phone in Flutter

Do you need to get a phone number, name, or email from the contact list on your phone in Flutter? If yes, it is a very easy way to implement this functionality in your Flutter project. Sometimes you need this kind of functionality for a client project or personal project development. For that, you need to create a Flutter contact list. It covers everything you need to know, including how to access phone contacts and display them in a list view.

[kamiversee]

Talk Me Through It ꨄ

[ { Synopsis } ] ➤ Your fwb Suguru calls you late at night after having a wet dream about you— he wants you to listen to what you do to him.

[ { Need to know } ] ➤This is a What-If scenario that stems from my fic; The F*ck List— A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt.

[ { Content & Warning } ] ➤ f!reader, dirty talk, language, smut, tw; slight tease to satosugu, & pet names.

[ { Paring } ] ➤ Geto Suguru x f!reader. Perv!Geto x f!reader.

[ { Word Count } ] ➤ 3.7k

——YOUR PUSSY WAS ADDICTING.

If there was one thing any of the men you dealt with realized— it was that. Your cunt was fucking addicting. On their mouth, fingers, cock, it didn’t matter. Simply having your sex on them was something that became a constant crave.

Which perfectly explains why Geto Suguru is having trouble sleeping right now.

Oh how you plagued his mind even in his sleep. The fuck are you doing in his dreams? Why are your lips wrapped around his cock again? And just why is his tip knocking into the back of your throat?

It was so damn vivid that he swore it was real. After all, it’s not like he hasn’t felt all of that before— you had a mouth that was just too damn good. Then there were your hands, you knew how to use your body well.

Speaking of hands, Geto swears he’s not just imagining your dainty but pretty manicured fingers cupping his balls as you throat his hefty size. He’s still deep in his sleep but his body shifts around and a slight groggy groan leaves his throat.

Damn you. Don’t you have other people’s heads to be in? Like Satoru’s for example? What the hell are you doing in Geto’s dream?

That final question makes the man stir awake, aggravated by the painful boner in his sweats as his eyes flutter open. He kisses his teeth and then sighs, moving a hand up to his head to rake a set of fingers through his loose and messy black locks.

Slowly, Geto sits up and glances around his dark room, soon spotting the clock that reads 12:47 pm. You should still be up, no? Ah, who cares if you’re not, he’ll wake you up— you caused this anyway.

Wait, what’s he gonna call you for again? Geto blinks, moving to rub his eyes as he tries to focus his thoughts. Oh, that’s right, his cock is twitching and sticking up his boxers. Yeah, that and since you caused it, you might as well help him get off.

The raven-haired man moved to tug his blanket off his body, a slip of air following the movement and hitting his naked chest as he moved to his nearby nightstand. Geto rubs his eyes yet again with one hand as the other grabs his cell and he goes to unlock it.

He’s yawning as he swipes through his phone in search of your contact and once he finds it, he wonders how he should go about doing this. Staring at your name for a few minutes, he cracks a smirk and goes to call you as he gets comfortable.

His back is against his headboard and his thighs part comfortably whilst the phone rings. Geto waits and waits and waits, swearing that if you don’t pick up, he’ll just come over and-

“Hello?” Your voice is suddenly heard through the device, softer than normal and a bit groggy, “Suguru?”

Geto smiles at the sound, you’d clearly just woken up, and that made this all the more perfect, “Jus’ listen,” He hums out.

His voice was low and far deeper than you knew it to be, helping you to wake up a bit more as your brows furrowed, “Wha-“

Then you hear it— this wet sound that makes your ears perk up and you sit up in your bed. You go to rub your eyes and turn the volume up on your phone, wondering what the hell Geto called you for and what exactly you’re supposed to be listening to-

Again, there’s another wet sound, almost like the sound of someone spitting. You think you’re holding your breath trying to listen and thank fuck for that because it allows you to hear this slick sound start-up over the phone.

It’s a sound you’re no stranger to. After all, it’s not hard to tell when a guy is jerking off over the phone but fuck was it vivid.

“S-Suguru? Are you…” Your voice fades out a bit and Geto hums deeply.

His large hand was running up and down his cock in slow pulls, breathing picking up a bit. “Am I what?” He asks.

Good lord his voice is deep and sexy.

You swallow hard, “Are you… jerking off?” You ask timidly.

His head eases back against his headboard and his thumb swirls over his tip, “No?” Geto lies, chuckling at how quickly you picked up on his actions, “Jus’ wanted to call ‘nd talk to you, why would you think m’jerkin’ off?” He grumbles out.

You scoff, “The first thing you said when we got on the phone was jus’ listen. So I did… anddd it sounds like you’re jerking off.” You tease, snickering a bit at him.

Geto’s pulls grow a bit quicker as you speak, his breathing getting heavier, “Does it really?”

“Mhm, can’ hear how wet your…” You hold your tongue, realizing you were about to say something rather lewd.

“My what?” He huffs, “Say it.”

Taking a moment, the gears of your recently woken-up brain grind slowly before you sigh. Your voice gets lower, a bit more sultry and your body heats up, “I can hear how wet your cock is, Sugu.” You tell him.

You swear the sounds get louder, or maybe you were turning the volume up even more— either way, the slickness of Geto stroking himself grew closer to the phone before you heard him breathe heavily, “Hahhh, yeah?” Geto moans out, “Shit, keep talkin’ like that, s’helpin’ me get off.”

“I-,” You smile and move around in your bed, your thighs pressing together, “Are you serious?”

With the sound of you talking in such an obviously aroused tone, Geto was losing his mind on his end. Why hadn’t he done this with you sooner? Damn, maybe Gojo did have a point all those times he said your voice was hot…

“Yeah,” Geto breathes out to you, fisting his cock in quicker pulls. His gaze was hazy and his body was hot, knowing you were listening to him made him twitch within his palm, “Had’ a wet dream about you, woke up hard, ‘nd now all I need is your voice in my ear.”

A smile creeps onto your face and there’s a sudden pulse in between your legs, “You had a wet dream about me?”

“Mhm, had’ your lips wrapped around my cock,” Geto hums, god his voice is driving you crazy right now. “You were suckin’ me off soooo good.” He praises.

“Was I really?” You taunt, chuckling a bit afterward— the sound coming out far more airy than you realized.

“Yeah, s-shit,” He suddenly whines, his grip on the phone tightening along with his other hand slowing down on his dick and squeezing in the same manner he’s felt you do before, “Keep talkin’ please.”

You tilt your head against your phone and one of your hands begins to wander a bit, “What am I supposed to say? You called me to get off on my voice— fuckin’ perv.” You whisper the last part just to tease him.

Geto’s smiling to himself at the sound before he groans, “Aghh shit, don’t say that.”

“Why? You like it.”

He rolls his eyes, “You’re such a tease.”

There’s a moment of quietness again as you hear how breathy his words came out. Followed by which are these short and soft pants that mirror and sync with the jerky wet shlick shlick that comes from him stroking his cock. It was turning you on to listen to, especially as this throaty little moan slips past his lips.

Your thighs are pressed together firmly as you speak, a hand moving to rest on your stomach, “You’re not so innocent y’know…” You tell him.

“Hm?” Geto hums curiously.

“I’ve had uh…” You swallow, “I’ve had dreams about you before.”

That catches him off guard and his hand tightens around the base of his cock to stop himself from blowing his load at the mere thought of you having a wet dream about him. 

“Yeah? Tell me about ‘em.” Geto requests before removing his hand from his dick entirely. He watches himself twitch and throb but he holds himself back just to hear what you have to say.

“Now?” You ask nervously.

“Yes now,” Geto replies sassily.

A brief smile that graces your face before you sigh, “Are you sure-“

“If you keep taunting me I’ll jus’ come over and fuck you hard enough so that even Shoko hears you-“

Your eyes widen, “Okay, okay…”

“Uhuh, that’s what I thought,” He hums, smiling to himself.

You scoff, “The last dream I had about you… uh, you were uhm… we y’know… outside….”

“Why’re you mumblin’?” Geto chuckles, finding your shyness cute, “What, did we fuck in public or somethin’?”

You gulp as you remember the dream you had, your fingers moving to run beneath the waistband of the shorts you wore, “Mhm… kinda…”

“Oh yeah?” Geto taunts before his hand returns to his now leaking cock.

Just a few words from you and pre was sliding down his length, sticking up his skin, and making quite the mess.

“Mhm…” You hum, voice growing lighter, “You bent me over the hood of your car…”

He bites back a moan as his fingers wrap around his length, “Did I now?”

“Yeah.” You whisper, your own hands wandering lower.

Geto’s hips lift into his fist and he grunts a bit, “And what else?”

“You pressed my face against it, fucked me real good, and your mouth…” You unintentionally pant a bit as the last word leaves your lips, the memory and current situation working you up.

“What about my mouth, gorgeous?” Geto purrs, “What’d I say t’you?”

“Y’know…” You shrug, “The normal filth you say…”

“Noo, I don’t know. What’s the normal filth I say? Hm?”

“I don’t wanna repeat it, Sugu,” You pout, “It’s embarrassing.”

A smirk spreads across his face and as he uses his hand to fuck himself, eyes flickering ever so slightly, “I know. That’s exactly why I want you to say it.”

You sigh heavily, “You�� You asked me if I liked being split open by your cock…”

“Hah, yeah, sounds like somethin’ I’d say…” Geto drawls out, pausing afterward. “…Do you?” He asks.

“H-Huh?” You half-moan.

“Do you like bein’ split open by my cock?” The man asks bluntly, voice husky.

Your brows furrow and your mouth forms the slightest O shape, “Suguru-“

“Like’ feelin’ me deep in your cunt?” He groans into the phone.

Yeah, by this point you’d joined him in pleasing yourself, “Hah… I-“

“You touchin’ yourself over there?” He points out, his voice mixed with a groan.

You bite your lower lip, “M-Maybe…”

“Should I come over?” Geto offers, his hand a mess with his cum as he jerks off much faster than before. Knowing you were touching yourself because of him made his head spin and blood rush to his cock.

“Mmmh… N-No… Just uh,” You swallow down a moan, “Talk me through it, Sugu…”

He cracks a smirk, “Talk you through it? Mmh, how ‘bout you jus’ show me what you’re doin’ ‘nd we help each other out?”

You whine at the thought alone, fingers soaked from your cunt, “S-Show you?”

“Mhmmm, Show me how you play with yourself, c’mon,” Geto lets out another groan, “I promise I’ll return the favor.”

“Do… Do you want like, a video or something?” You offer with a slight shake to your voice.

“Nope, video call me,” He says.

“But-“

“We can help each other, c’mon pretty.”

Rolling your eyes, your fingers curl inside you and you groan, “You’re insufferable….”

“Lemme’ see your pussy,” He says bluntly.

His words make you snicker, “You have no shame, do you?”

Geto laughs, “None at all. Now c’mon, show me your pretty lil’ cunt so I can finish.”

With a roll of your eyes, you move the phone away from your ear and go to video call the man. Your heart was pounding in nervousness yet you were excited for what was about to take place. 

Sure, you should technically have some kind of fear for doing anything over the phone but you weren’t thinking about that right now…

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Getting on a video call with Geto Suguru was worse than simply listening to him.

For starters, when the video call was initially collected, you didn't even get the chance to say anything as he’d set his phone up nicely just for you. Pervert might be an understatement because what exactly were you supposed to make of seeing Geto jerk off with your panties held up to his face?

If you weren’t soaked from before, you sure as hell were now. The lacy fabric was weaved between his fingers, firmly held up against his nose as his brows tensed, lips parted, and hand tugged at his cock in hastier pulls.

When had he even gotten your panties out from wherever he’d been keeping them? You don’t know but, you were too busy scrambling around in your bed to set yourself up to care.

Especially when he groans, “Hurry up ‘nd gimme a show,” Geto demands, voice husk and a half smile cracking across his expression.

You could see him so clearly on your phone. The moonlight in his room illuminated his entire body and goddamn the man was sweaty and disheveled in such a sinfully perfect way. Long dark hair splaying out and down his chest, smaller strands sticking to his forehead, abs coated in sweat, and cock flushed and leaking— all for you.

It took you only a minute to get your phone propped up and you think your embarrassment has faded almost completely. With your legs spread nice and wide, shorts discarded elsewhere, and fingers slowly returning to your sex, you gave him just as good of a view.

Geto moans the very second he lays eyes on your cunt displayed so deliciously for him. Part of him thought to just come over and dive his head right in between those thighs of yours, lips latching to your cunt and tongue eager to fuck into you like always.

“Fuuuck,” He groans. You then watch the way he takes your panties away from his face and wraps them around his cock, “Spread yourself open f’me,” He instructs slowly.

Your cunt practically drools at his words as you take two fingers and parr your folds for the man. His stare is intense and you can hear his breathing grow heavy, a faint whine leaving the back of his throat every time he exhales.

“Y-Yeah, tha’s good-, fuuck…” Geto groans, fisting his member at a pace to match how you take your free hand and finger yourself steadily. “Maybe I should come over…” He hums.

You shake your head, “M’fine just like this, hah…”

“Yeah? Y’like finger fuckin’ yourself while I watch? Hm?” He taunts, to which you moan and your thighs threaten to close on you. “Answer me, pretty. Wanna’ hear your voice.”

You nod a little, “Y-Yeah, I like-, nngh… gettin’ off like this, shit…”

Geto’s close— you could tell based on how he starts talking more, “We should do this more often then,” He offers, watching as your thighs start to draw together. Then, he can’t help the way his voice gets lower, “Keep those fuckin’ legs open.”

“M’trying-, ah…” Your head tossed back and his sudden command only gets you impossibly wetter.

“Try harder. Shiiit, look at her glisten…” He suddenly purrs, eyes narrowing at the view on his screen, “F-Fuck…” The harder he focuses, the more he can feel his balls tighten, his orgasm approaching, “Oh shit-, I wanna fuck you so bad right now.”

You whine, “C-Come over Sugu…”

His head cocks to the side and lewd slick sounds are slipping throughout the air between both of you, “Thought’ you didn’t want me to?” Geto recalls.

“I need you-, mmgh…” You moan out, brows tensing as you notice it’s harder to get off by yourself— you hadn’t had to do so in a while after all, “I c-can’t…”

He bites his lip, “Can’t what? Can’t get off without me, hm?”

“No…” You shake your head, agreeing with his statement, “Hahh… s’hard Sugu…”

His head weighs back a bit. Knowing that you can’t get off without him nearly drove him off the edge, “Aw, your fingers aren’t hittin’ all the right spots anymore?”

Still shaking your head, almost desperately, “N-No.” You mutter, upping the pace of your fingers to mirror him.

“Poor girllll,” Geto coos, your cunt clenching, “You need my fingers? My cock?”

“Yes Suguru,” Your words come out in a moan as your back arches off the bed a little, “Fuck, yes please,” You beg.

And that was all it took for him, hot spurts of cum leaving the tip of his cock as your desperate little pleas hit his ears. A gruff, “Y-You’re almost there, pretty,” Is said to you as he tries to help you with his words.

A soft mewl leaves your lips, “Sugu, I c-can’t-“

His hand has slowed as he tries not to overstimulate himself, still smearing his cum over his shaft and panting. He didn’t want to stop, “Yes you can, c’monnnn, cum f’me. Show me how messy that pussy gets.”

Your jaw drops a little, “God-, I hate your mouth.”

Watching how your legs nearly close on yourself again, how your fingers struggle to reach that one spot inside you, Geto smirks, “No you don’t.”

You let out a sexy fuck-out chuckle, “I don’t.” You agree.

“Mhm, I know,” He scoffs, “Now hurry up ‘n finish and maybe I’ll come over.”

“Mmh…” You hum, neck arching a bit as your eyes flicker at the mere thought.

“Like’ the sound of that? Want me to come over and fuck you real good? Huh?” His voice is suddenly closer to the phone, having picked the device up so you could hear him better. And also so he could get a closer look at your pussy.

You were so wet, “Yeahhh…” You whimper.

“Stuff you nice ‘nd full of my cock?” Geto continues. Oh he enjoyed talking you through it like this.

Your struggling display was beyond sexy to him, tantalizing even. You were too caught up fingering yourself to notice this man letting out soft hums that faded into these slight seductive purrs, he was more into this than he let on, despite just getting off to you.

“Uhuh, p-please,” Your voice suddenly hit his ears again and his cock started to twitch back to life.

“Fuuck, y’know how I feel about you beggin’,” Geto groans, a whine laying beneath his words.

One of your fingers just grazes your g-spot and you groan in frustration, pathetic little tears building up in the corner of your eyes, “Need it s’bad Sugu, please just come over.”

He smiles, “You gotta cum for me first.”

“I-“

“Touch your clit, c’mon, did you really forget how to please yourself?” Geto teases, his eyes studying exactly how you’ve been touching yourself.

“N-No… It’s just, ngh, y-you usually…” You take your other hand and do as he’s said, panting afterward instead of finishing your statement, “Hahhh…”

“Yeah yeah, I know, I usually do it for you,” He continues for you.

Your moans were so sweet and soft, “Ah, m-mgh…” The sound caressed his ears, making his dick stiffen completely all over again. That, and the unfiltered and raw sight of your pussy spread open for him, delicate fingers dipping in and out and in and out so melodically. 

He’s smirking, “C’mon, curl your fingers. Curl ‘em like how I do… Actually, curl ‘em like how Satoru does.”

A staggered little gasp emits from you, “Shit-, w-why would you say-,” You mindlessly follow his instructions, suddenly recalling that white-haired man and remembering how deep and calculated his fingers were. The way he just knew what spots to hit, how slim and lengthy his digits were-, “Hnngh… ahh.. m’cumming…”

Your moans fade out as you bite your lower lip, orgasm crashing over you due to the mere remembrance of Gojo’s fingers. Well, that and the nasty words spilling from Geto’s mouth.

The male nods, “That’s itt, good girl.”

“Fuck Sugu…” You heave out

“Hah,” He smiles, “I’m a bit offended you came at the mention of Satoru…” Geto says playfully.

Your brows furrow and you roll your eyes, “T-That wasn’t because of him, it’s just… h-his fingers are-”

“Memorable,” He suddenly blurts out.

His words throw you off and you look at your phone with a sudden taunting smile, “Oh? H-How would you know, Suguru?”

Geto’s checks redden ever so slightly, “I’ve been his friend for a long time.”

Slowly, you move to sit up and lean toward your phone, “Riiiight, but what does that have to do with-“

“Shut up, I’m comin’ over,” He suddenly diverts. And before you can say anything about it, “When I get there, I’ll tell you all about Satoru’s memorable hands while I’m fucking you dumb.” He warns.

Geto was already out of his bed, having made his way to his bathroom to straighten himself up. 

You pout playfully, “Suguru, are you jealous that thinking about Satoru’s hands made me cum?”

“A bit, yeah,” He huffs out, now exiting his bathroom-, damn he was moving fast, “But it’s alright, I’m comin’ over to remind you who’s cock you’re beggin’ for every week.”

Those words make your body heat up all over again, “I-, i-it’s not every week,” You huff.

“You just begged for me five minutes ago,” He chuckles, now leaving his bedroom with some random shirt tossed on and a fresh pair of sweats tugged on.

“That was different. You’re the one who called me-“

“I’m on my way,” Geto cuts off. You can hear the faint sound of his keys being swiped up, “Keep your cunt nice ‘nd wet f’me,” He teases.

Your mouth opens to say something else but the call disconnects.

You just sit there staring at your phone for a minute before you realize… Not only is Shoko still home and just down the hall but, him coming over to fuck at a time and situation like this is risky.

Like, riskier than the time he fucked you in a public parking lot. Albeit you were in his car, it was still risky.

But this? This means you’ll have to be quiet……

part two.

tags;

@blognicole @suguruologist @luqueam @ivoryviness @sinaxalui @rxnnie18 @carlacujo @gods-landing @bitchysouljellyfish @miles4hour @sinaxalui @annananamin @heart-snow @kiyomizzx @hanuh @acehyacinth @mccookiemonster @tojis-ball-sack @cartwheel6869 @mariluvsusstuff @addie1010 @slammynics @actualz0mbie @hisbitchhh @kay-xle @cunttee3 @voids-universe @raininglovelyfire @itsbokutosjuicyass @peaceoutbritta @barbielani @gennaray @r3inae @kfmcykdy @camiihutt @tokina @curtin81937 @hopefullydecent @nameless-shade @ureuphoriasworld @forgetfulmachine @legbouk @lilliaannn @clementineee0-0 @divinelseraph @didibxx

[avwfcstan]

Heart Stopper | Leah Williamson

A/N: this was rushed and probs sucks boooo, will probably do a follow up part too (also not proofread lol)

There were many things that gave you a nervous fluttering in your chest; waking up on your birthday, receiving awards, doing interviews and even meeting fans.

But there was also a few things that made that feeling a hundred times more intense. Playing for your country, and whenever Leah looked at you.

It was cliché, but the two of you were completely head over heels for each other. Leah's gaze was the most beautiful thing you ever had the pleasure of catching, but it would always make your heart race a little faster in your chest. Your fiancée often teased you about how nervous you got when you made eye contact especially considering the four years you had been together, but you just couldn't explain it.

Leah looked at you with so much love and affection, a genuine feeling behind her eyes that made you question what you had done to deserve love like hers. Her eyes never failed to make you smile, and appreciate what you had. She was your world, more important than anything in your life; including your career.

You could think of a thousand different examples of times Leah had made you nervous, when you met, when you finally plucked up the courage to ask her out, when you met her family, winning the Euros with her. But nothing would beat how her eyes brimmed with happy tears when you got down on one knee that night in Athens, during a holiday just after England's victory in the summer.

There was a lot of things that made your heart race, beat against your chest as though it was ready to burst, but Leah would always be at the top of your list.

Today was no different, except you had plenty more reasons to be jittery.

Not too long ago, you were called up to represent England at the World Cup and before you knew it, the time was here. Unfortunately, your soon-to-be-wife had sustained an injury to her ACL a few months prior, and it had left her out of the squad indefinitely due to her recovery period. It was tough time for Leah, but you had remained by her side throughout, and she would be forever thankful that you were.

You had played at your best, as well of the rest of the team and it earned you a spot in the semi-finals against France. It was going to be a very tough game, but you had made it this far, and nobody planned on going home early.

No matter how many times you played for your country, it was still scary. Even though you had played well so far, you were so worried it could all go wrong. That feeling in your chest could be a spiteful bastard, and sometimes turn sour at the worst times. It would become a tight feeling, painful and hard to ignore. But in your line of work, it was something that had to be ignored.

"How you feeling, speedy?" A voice had quickly snapped you out of your thoughts. Turning your head to see Millie Bright taking a seat beside you in the changing room that was already full of eager Lionesses prepping for kick off (and listening to ABBA).

You cleared your throat slightly, feeling that familiar twinge in your chest that threatened to turn unpleasant.

"Good." The lie slipped past your lips, not backed up by the fact that your leg was bouncing so quickly against the floor that it could've created a hole.

Millie chuckled beside you before throwing an arm around your shoulder.

"We're gonna kill 'em, save that energy for the pitch kid."

You offered her a quick smile before she patted your back and moved off to have a conversation with Rachel. It was odd, you hadn't quite had this feeling so intense before, but you had figured that the further you got in the competition, the worse it might be. But Millie was right, conserve your energy and let it out when it mattered.

It wouldn't be long before you were due to line up and head out for kick off, and so despite the rules, you pulled out your phone to text Leah. She had managed to convince the physios at Arsenal that she would be fine to fly out for the end of the tournament, promising to cheer you all on from wherever she was sat. She had texted you with the general area, and you told her you'd look for her when you came out.

Putting your phone away, you rose to your feet and followed the team out.

The feeling was ever present in your chest, but it didn't die down. Shaking your head and balling your hands in fists by your sides, it was game time. Win first, worry later.

<><><>

The whistle was blown, and the game kicked off. It was a hard fought battle between both sides. Equal opportunity, but neither could make a real dent in the score line. At the 46th minute, your chest had begun to tighten and your head beginning to hurt, and not in a way you had felt before.

Something was wrong.

An anxiety attack perhaps? Migraine? You had no idea but there was no way in hell you were subbing off this early, not when you were making runs up the wing and crosses into the box that had France's defence all over the place.

One misplaced pass from a French midfielder allowed Lucy to intercept, who passed it promptly to Stanway, sending it you on the left wing where you were already setting up to make the run. Rachel Daly was at the striking position, and after hours of drills, it was about to pay off as an opportunity to score presented itself. By the time the long ball reached your feet, you were off and running it up the line, leaving a stumbling French right back tailing after you. As the end of the pitch appeared, you halted quickly, stopping the ball with you and throwing off the defender for a mere moment.

But that was all you needed.

A sly pass through the legs of said defender allowed you to chip the ball into the rapidly crowding box, but Rachel was there ready to header it in. England, France, the whole stadium held their breath as Daly made contact and sent the shot flying into the top corner. It was though everything was happening in slow motion to you.

Unfortunately, the incredible shot rattled off the woodwork, allowing a defender to clear the ball from the French box, sending both teams back down the pitch.

"France clear the dangerous attempt from England, making safe passes between their back line in order to gain some ground." The commentators were keeping a close eye on this tight-knit game. Their eyes followed every kick of the ball. "-makes a clear pass past Walsh and into the England half, but it appears that Y/L/N has yet to even catch up with her teammates!"

Leah was hyper-focused, prepped for a nasty French counter-attack. With her lower lip between her teeth, she was watching every kick of the ball, hands clenched in hope that the Lioness defence would come through. It was clear that it was neck and neck, and not a single second could be wasted. A French player was closing in on the England box, and Millie was ready to make the tackle, until she noticed a commotion on the pitch.

"France are set on returning the attacking gesture, making good ground- Oh!" The commentator cut himself off. "Is Y/L/N injured? She seems to be stumbling."

The blonde defender's eyes flickered away out the sound of a whistle, the French player halting her attack. Millie's head turned to the sound of the whistle, as did the rest of the players.

There was Rachel, kneeling down beside a body of white kit. Keira stood waving her arms to the side lines, a clear sign of calling for medical aid. The referee had also dropped to her knees, and Leah's heart sank as realisation settled in.

From her position, she was close enough to see that you were lying down on the ground. Still. Unmoving. She didn't see you get tackled, let alone go down. Her throat filled with anxiety, fear. What do I do? Leah couldn't exactly run onto the pitch, but that was her fucking fiancée down there for Christ sake.

"Leah..." Her brother managed out beside her, already knowing. Her brother had come to like you quite a lot, but you were basically part of the family. It was clear the worry was mutual.

The blonde woman heard ringing, her brother's attempts at consoling her falling on deaf ears. She watched as medics ran onto the pitch, and not just team medics, but paramedics. It was clear something was seriously wrong as the ref beckoned them over quickly after her initial examination.

Leah wasn't quite able to process what was going on. Tears pricked in her eyes, and that tight feeling in her own chest had turn into outright panic. Her breathing was staggered, but she was unable to move. She wasn't close enough to hear or see clearly, but she knew.

The English squad all shared a solemn and worrisome look on their faces. Lucy Bronze had her hands on the shoulders of Keira Walsh, seemingly attempting to calm her down. The two of you were close, and seeing you like this was hard. Especially since no-one quite knew what was going on. Lucy pulled Keira away, as the rest of the team quickly stood in a protective circle around yourself and the paramedics, shielding you away from prying eyes in such a vulnerable moment. The French players also joined to fill in the gaps, showing nothing but solidarity for a fellow player.

Your fiancée was only stirred from her panic as her brother grabbed her hand, leading her down from their seats and back inside the stadium. Leah had obviously gained a sort of VIP privilege to watch the match, meaning they had a private area inside before and during the game. As her eyes were torn away from you, her body kicked back into auto drive, ignoring her brother and immediately began searching for someone that could help her.

"Excuse me!" Leah had found what looked like a security guard further down the corridor, just outside the room. "My girlfriend's just been injured and I need to see her!"

The man didn't respond initially, as it seemed he was listening to something being said in his earpiece. "Madam I can't let anyone down there."

Meanwhile, outside the stadium had fallen silent. You were being rushed off the pitch and referee had called a slightly early half-time, sending both teams back to the changing rooms. The Lionesses wasted no time, Sarina was going to have to deliver a game plan at the same time as making sure the rest of the team were okay.

There was a lot of chatter in the changing room.

"Fuck, man!" Lucy stressfully placed her hands on her head. "What the fuck was it?" She asked out loud, hoping for an answer.

"Mate I dunno, she just collapsed." Rachel responded from her seat in her cubby.

Keira just sighed. "It's bad, it's really bad." Emotions threatened to spill over. "She just dropped and she was shaking."

"I heard the paramedics. She was unconscious." Georgia admitted shakily, and the atmosphere in the room changed. But before anyone could say more, Sarina walked in the room alongside some assistant coaching staff.

The girls all shuffled back into their seats, and then Sarina spoke;

"I've been told that Y/N suffered a seizure." The silence in the room was heavy. "We do not know why, but she's on the way to the hospital."

No one knew what to say. Not really.

"Is she going to be okay?" Jess asked what everyone was thinking. The obvious question.

Sarina's gaze dropped.

"I don't know at this time, but it seems that way." Sighs of relief were audible.

Millie then spoke; "Has anyone told Leah?" Heads turned to look at her. "She's here, there's no way she hasn't seen."

"I've sent someone up to grab her, they'll take her to Y/N." The England coach informed her team. "Look ladies, I know you are all gravely concerned about your teammate, and the support and care you showed at their proved it. But Y/N would want you all to go back out there and give it your best."

It was true, the girls all knew how much the game meant to you, and that you were the type of person to never quit. You expected the same thing from everyone else. In truth, it was a part of what made the team so special.

But their hearts also ached for Leah. Watching the person you love have something so horrible happen to them was hard.

So they would go back out there, and win it for you. You and Leah.

<><><>

The match was over. England won 2-1.

Leah couldn't quite bring herself to care, though. For a rare occasion, something in her life had taken precedence over the game.

She was sat alone in a waiting room, in some Australian hospital, waiting to hear anything from you. She had been there for two hours. Before Leah could rip off that security guard's head, an England staff member had grabbed her, telling her everything he knew before helping her get to the hospital. She thanked him profusely, and went inside, trying to find out what was going on with you.

The England captain was told to wait, and that was what she had been doing ever since. Her brother had come in and out, busy making phone calls to his and Leah's mum.

"Leah Y/L/N?" Her head snapped up at that. She had forgotten she had lied about her name, telling them you were married already in fear they wouldn't let her see you. Leah bolted up and headed to the nurse who had called her name, indicating for the woman to follow her.

She pulled out her phone and text her brother that she was going to see you before she was brought outside a door. The nurse opened it and ushered her in, stating she would give some privacy before the nurse came over.

For the first time ever, Leah's gaze on you was one filled with heartache.

Hooked up to wires, pale as anything. Sitting in a bed you had no purpose being in. You didn't look like you.

"Y/N..." The tears that the defender had desperately tried to hold back had breached her eyes once again, flowing freely. You were awake, and the sudden noise had you looking over at your lover.

"Leah." You sighed, seeming a lot more awake than she had been expecting. The girl rushed over and grabbed your hand, before you pulled her into a hug, immediately wrapping your arms around hers. "I'm okay, c'mon, I'm okay."

You attempted to soothe her hurt, ironically. But Leah pulled away, sobbing.

"But you're not! Oh my God, you aren't okay!" Leah hated the word hysterical, she thought it had sexist undertones, but she felt a little hysterical right now.

"Hey! I'm alive! I'm breathing! I'm talking to you right now, aren't I?" You quipped, smiling at her. You still looked pale, slow moving. But still, that was you. "It was a seizure. Stress, they said. They need to do more tests but, I'm all good."

Leah knew you were okay, the evidence was right in front of her. But it didn't make this any less scary.

She didn't even have to say anything, her lip just quivering. You pulled her back into you, mindful of the wires connected to your body. "I know, baby. I'm right here." You ran a soothing hand up and down her back.

"I should be comforting you right now." She mumbled into your neck, making you chuckle.

"Ha, I'm sound." That made her giggle.

"You collapsed." She deadpanned, pulling away slightly again.

"I know."

"You're going to be okay?" She asked, those beautiful eyes finding yours again. "You're going to be okay."

"I know." You repeated, and your fiancée kissed your cheek.

She spent the next minutes asking you how you felt, and you explained how you felt just before you went down and how you remembered nothing whilst you were unconscious.

"I didn't even know I had a fit till I got in the ambulance. I just felt so...tired. Exhausted." Recounting your trip to the hospital, Leah was constantly stroking your hair, looking you in the eyes to make sure you were really there. "But I'm good. I'll be good."

Leah didn't say anything, she just leaned in and kissed you softly on the lips. The two of you shared a sweet embrace until a short beep on your monitor made you both pull away. Leah turned her head and saw your heart rate monitor, and that your BPM had spiked slightly.

Your face went red with realisation, and Leah just bit her lower lip bashfully.

"Do I make you nervous or something?" She teased, and you just sighed at her antics.

"Shut up!" You flopped back into the bed, letting yourself lean against the mattress.

There was a beat of silence.

"I didn't make anything stressful for you, right? I know the last few months have been hard-" You cut Leah's rambling off quickly before she could spiral, knowing what she was like.

"Nope! None of that please. Leah, I've always been shit with dealing with stress. It's my own fault for bottling it up. I'm gonna start seeing someone when we get back, manage my emotions better. Promise." You reassured her, and you meant what you said. You knew Leah had some of the toughest months of her life the past year. Coming off the highs of captaining the team to the Euros win, to being injured and missing out on the biggest tournament in the world was so hard. But you didn't regret helping her through a single minute of that, and no matter how tough it was really, you would never let her take the blame because there was simply none to place on her shoulders.

The two of you were interrupted by a doctor entering the room, apologising for the intrusion.

"Ah, I see your wife found you then, Mrs Y/L/N?" He smiled, walking over to your other side and checking a few machines.

You turned your head sheepishly to Leah.

"Wife, huh?"

She just hummed in response.

"A couple of months, give or take."

[221beloved]

Haunted House

(Link to ao3)

"This looks nice." John pointed at a brick house on their way back from a crime scene.

"What do you think?"

Sherlock hummed. "It's ill placed here in central London."

"Yeah, okay. Apart from that."

"I..." Sherlock looked at John, then at his feet.

"I like it. When I was a child I..."

John gently nudged his side. "Yes?"

"I sometimes imagined to live in a cottage in the country. Far away from the big cities, away from all these stupid people. Just a small village. I would have my own little cottage, with plants covering the facade, a garden just big enough for some basics..."

John smiled at him fondly. "Only when you were young?"

"I realised quite quickly that I'd be bored out of my bloody mind there."

He paused, looked at John.

"When I'd live there alone, that is. And I didn't want anyone to come with me."

He smiled at John. "Back then, at least."

John's smile widened in response and he grabbed Sherlock's hand.

"You are awfully romantic. Your heart is as big and squishy as a watermelon."

Sherlock scowled. "It's not. It's a completely normal, physical heart. Normal sized, and perfectly functioning."

His tone softened slightly.

"And the metaphorical one, it's with you."

John's physical heart was fluttering in earnest at that, and he bumped into Sherlock playfully. "What did I say, romantic."

He squeezed Sherlock's hand.

"And you know that my heart is yours too, right?"

Sherlock nodded, and they didn't talk for a while, until John snorted softly. Sherlock looked at him questioningly.

"It's probably better that you’re not moving into a cottage in the country alone."

"And why is that?"

"The poor villagers would probably think of it as a haunted house."

"I am solving the murders, John, not committing them. There would be no dead bodies appearing on my doormat."

"No dead bodies, no," John chuckled.

"But, you have to see. You wouldn't go out regularly, as little contact to others as possible, always conduct your experiments.

"All the villagers would see would be the occasional explosion or clouds of smoke, all accompanied by funny smells.

“They would see a shadow moving through the house, a frightening one, with those dressing gowns of yours. And though no one would leave or enter the house, there would be light coming from the windows at night, the silhouette moving around again.

“They would believe you a ghost, with your sleeping habits. And probably the best thing, you would stand in front of the windows in your dressing gown and play your violin. I think together with the plant covered facade and all, it would be a textbook example of a haunted house."

He grinned up at Sherlock, who was glowering down at him.

"Does my violin play sound like that of a ghost?"

"No," John assured quickly. "And I'm not saying you're behaving like one. I'm just... imagining what other people would see. People who don't know you. People who don’t observe.

"He smiled up at Sherlock. "Because people are idiots."

Sherlock smiled back. "You're not an idiot."

"I'm an idiot too, don't worry," John laughed. "Just that I'm your idiot."

"Yes you are. You're my idiot."

They walked in silence for a bit.

"It's just good that you won't have to move there alone," John said eventually.

“I'll come with you, if you'll have me. Won't be that boring then, either."

Sherlock looked at him, and there was something almost like wonder in his eyes.

"No," he said, stretching the word out.

"No, I won't have to go there alone, have I? You won't leave me alone."

John squeezed Sherlock's hand.

"Never."

--

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[hxney-lemcn]

Is This Really Fake? — Fern Mertens x gn! reader

summary: Fern and reader fake date so Finn will stop bothering Fern. Only, it becomes a lot more real between the two behind closed doors.

tw: slightly suggestive at the end...but not really at the same time lol

a/n: Fake dating trope!!!!! Heavy inspiration from this post! Go check it out.

wc: 1.2k

Master List

“Please,” Fern pleaded. “Just until Finn gets off my back.”

I squinted at him, but his tired gaze finally convinced me.

“Fine,” I huffed. 

In reality, I was ecstatic. I’ve had the fattest crush on Fern for as long as I could remember. And although I was a bit bummed he didn’t actually ask me out, I’d take what I could get. 

It was game night at Finn and Jake’s place, and Fern’s plan was going to be set in motion. I felt nervous about what may happen tonight…

“Can you put on a smile?” Fern asked after he knocked on the door. “You look like you’re ready to dig your own grave.”

“For a matter of fact, I am,” I replied back with a fake glare. 

When the sound of feet shuffling got close, I straightened my posture, quickly grabbing Fern's hand. He jumped slightly at the contact, but we quickly both threw on smiles when Finn opened the door.

“Hey guys! Come on in,” Finn invited. When we entered, climbing up to the living room, Jake waved us over to the couch.

This isn't your regular game night. This was video game night. Since there were only two controllers, we’d pass it on to the next person each round. Fern and I sat next to each other on the couch, closer than usual that is. The entire encounter was quite awkward. Perhaps pretending to be a couple wasn’t gonna work.

“So,” Jake spoke up, a cheesy smile on his face. “What’s going on with you two?”

“What do you mean?” I asked, playing coy. I glanced over to Fern whose face had been a dark shade of green ever since I grabbed his hand earlier. 

“Yeah,” Finn added. “You two have been acting differently all night.”

“Uhm,” Fern mumbled, glancing to his side. “I mean…I guess we started dating-”

“WHAT!” Finn shouted, hands on the side of his head. “How long?”

“A week?” I asked more than stated. We went over our cover story, but being interrogated by Finn and Jake was slightly nerve wracking. 

“A week!” Finn continued to exclaim. “Why didn’t you tell us man!”

“I…uh…didn’t think it was a big deal,” Fern shrugged. 

“Calm down man,” Jake chuckled when Finn seemed like he was going to continue to explode. “We’re happy for you two. Now let's keep playing!”

The lie became more comfortable for Fern and I. An example being the new years party Marceline was holding. There were a lot of people, but Fern and I were chilling in a corner. We each held a red solo cup, his holding water and mine holding some punch. We were talking about whatever came to mind, just enjoying each other's company. 

“Yeah, and Finn totally freaked out,” Fern chuckled, leaning against the wall. 

“You two lovebirds having fun?” Marcy asked while approaching us. 

“Totally,” I grinned at her from my place next to Fern. The teasing comments from our friends had become a norm we’ve grown used to. Not helped by the fact that Fern and I hung out a ton. 

“Just a reminder,” Marcy grinned deviously. “It’s said if a couple doesn’t kiss at midnight, their bond weakens.”

I felt my face flush, and glancing at Fern revealed he was feeling the same way. Marcy only cackled as she floated away. 

“You don’t gotta kiss me,” Fern spoke up after a few seconds of awkward silence. “Just a peck is fine…”

I smiled shyly, looking down at the drink in my hands, “It’s cool. As long as you’re okay with it.”

“Y-yeah!” Fern exclaimed before clearing his throat. “I mean, yeah. I don’t care.”

A small chuckle left me at his enthusiasm, butterflies fluttering in my stomach. Shuffling a bit, I found myself scooting closer to Fern, who smiled at me sheepishly. Suddenly, the entire room had people counting down.

“10!” People said in chorus. I tensed, not realizing how late it’s already gotten. 

9

I looked over to Fern whose whole face turned a slightly darker shade of green.

8

My eyes swept across the whole room, landing on Marcy and Bonnibel who were cheering loudly together.

7

Taking a deep breath, I face Fern once more.

6

We shuffled closer together. “You’re really okay with this?”

5

“Yeah,” I replied breathlessly, in awe that this was actually happening. 

4

Our faces inch closer.

3

I looked into his green eyes, afraid about how real this feels.

2

My heart twisted, hoping that this felt just as real for him.

1

Our lips connected in a light kiss. Neither one is sure how far to take it. I pushed a little more, not satisfied with just merely brushing our lips. Fern seemed to agree, as he raised a hand to rest on my arm. 

We pulled apart after a few seconds, our faces both on fire. I looked off to the side, taking a small step back. I just kissed my best friend who I was pretending to date. Did I just reveal my feelings? Does Fern know that my feelings in this relationship aren’t as fake as they’re supposed to be?

After that night, things had taken a turn for the better. We were currently hanging out, just watching a show. My head rested on his shoulder, his arm wrapped around my shoulder. We both had become accustomed to each other's touch. In fact, I felt like I couldn’t imagine a world without it. 

It was late, and my eyes kept fluttering close every so often. Fern rested his head against mine. He was so soft to lay against, not to mention warm. Like resting on freshly cut grass on a nice summer day. 

“Could…could you kiss me?” Fern asked quietly, almost like he didn’t want me to hear.

“What?” I questioned, pulling away slowly to meet his eyes. “We don’t have to pretend right now.”

“I know,” Fern replied awkwardly, not able to meet my eyes. “But…I could use one right now.”

My heart rate accelerated. Perhaps, this was real for him too. These feelings that I felt were reciprocated. I felt like mush at the fact that Fern is asking me to kiss him, not somebody else. 

“Of course,” I agreed. This was our second kiss, and it felt just as amazing, if not better than our previous one. Still a bit awkward, but it held a passion that threatened to take my breath away. His hands held my face softly as he angled his own to better match me. My fingers brushed through his hair, enjoying how soft it felt under my finger tips. 

When we pulled away, Fern still held his face close to mine. My eyes fluttered open, drinking in his flustered expression. His cheeks were a deep green, eyes half lidded, mouth open as he tried to catch his breath. 

“C-could we do that again?” I couldn’t help but ask, already missing the feeling of his lips on mine. 

“Please,” Fern begged, meeting my lips once more without missing a beat. I let out a delightful hum, he tasted slightly sweet. It felt so intoxicating, I can only hope this means we’re official now. I pushed myself closer into his figure, and he wrapped his arms around me. I pulled away to take a breath, only for Fern to chase my lips.

I let out a soft chuckle, putting my hand against his chest, “I need to breathe.”

“Do you?” Fern replied stubbornly, eyes filled with such a strong want I felt myself melting against him. 

“Kinda,” I muttered with a sly grin. I decided to snuggle up against him, laying my head in the crook of his neck, “...does this mean we’re actually dating now?”

“Yeah…I think so.”

"We better be," I grumbled.

[hira-fareed]

How to Hire a Mobile App Development Company in 2025

Having a killer app idea is exciting. But turning that idea into a polished, high-performing product? That’s where things get tricky.

If you’re planning to build an app that users will love and that drives real business results one decision matters more than any other: which mobile app development company you hire.

The wrong choice can mean blown budgets, delayed launches, poor UX, and apps that collect dust. The right choice can launch your product to market faster, with better features, higher user engagement, and long-term value.

This guide will show you exactly how to hire the right mobile app development company step by step.

Why Hiring the Right Mobile App Development Company Matters

You’re not just buying code. You’re buying:

Deep expertise across iOS, Android, and cross-platform

UX and UI that win and retain users

Scalable architecture

Security and compliance

Speed to market

Long-term support and updates

A good app can transform your business. A bad app can harm your brand. Choose wisely.

1. Know Your App Goals Before You Start Searching

Before you reach out to any developers, get clear on:

What does your app need to do?

Who is your target audience?

What platforms will you launch on iOS, Android, or both?

What key features do you need? (Think payments, GPS, push notifications, AI)

What’s your budget?

When do you want to launch?

This will help you filter out companies that don’t align with your goals and have smarter conversations with the ones that do.

2. Where to Find Great Mobile App Development Companies

Not all agencies are created equal. To find the best:

Search trusted directories (Clutch, GoodFirms)

Ask your network and business contacts

Look at LinkedIn case studies

Explore app store credits to see which companies built top-rated apps

Pro tip: Don’t just Google “top mobile app development company” those lists are often paid placements. Always check portfolios and verified reviews.

3. How to Vet and Compare Companies

When you’ve got your shortlist, here’s how to vet them:

Portfolio: Have they built apps in your industry?

Client reviews: What do past clients say?

Team: Will you work with senior developers or juniors?

Tech stack: Are they experienced with what you need (Flutter, React Native, Kotlin, Swift)?

Process: Do they use Agile or Scrum for faster, iterative releases?

Communication: Are they responsive and clear?

Post-launch: Do they offer maintenance and updates?

4. Ask These Smart Questions Before You Hire

Don’t hire until you’ve asked:

Can I see live apps you’ve built?

What’s your project timeline and process?

Who will be on my team?

How do you manage quality assurance and testing?

How do you handle app security and data privacy?

Will I own the IP of the app?

What is your approach to app updates post-launch?

A top mobile app development company should be able to answer these questions clearly and confidently.

For example, at Hudasoft, we provide full transparency on every project. You’ll see real apps we’ve delivered, get a clear timeline, work with senior designers and developers, and have complete clarity on IP ownership, security standards, and post-launch support. From day one, you’ll know exactly how your app is being built and how we’ll support it long after launch.

5. Beware of Common Mistakes

Here’s how companies get burned when hiring a mobile app development company:

Choosing the cheapest option, you get what you pay for

Not checking actual live apps

Rushing the hiring process

Failing to define clear project requirements

Overlooking post-launch maintenance

6. How Much Does It Cost to Hire a Mobile App Development Company?

Here’s a ballpark:

Simple MVP: $15,000–$30,000

Mid-level app: $40,000–$80,000

Complex app or enterprise solution: $100,000+

Costs vary depending on:

Features and integrations

Platforms (iOS, Android, cross-platform)

Custom design and animations

API and backend complexity

A good development partner will give you a detailed, transparent quote after understanding your scope.

7. The Hiring Process: From First Call to Kickoff

Here’s what your hiring process should look like:

Define your goals and budget

Build a shortlist of companies

Have discovery calls

Review proposals and timelines

Check references and client reviews

Finalize contracts, define scope, deliverables, timelines, and payment terms

Start with a kickoff workshop to align the team

Final Word: Build Smarter Hire the Right Mobile App Development Company

Hiring the right mobile app development company can mean the difference between a product that wins or one that flops.

The best companies will bring more than code. They’ll bring experience, business insight, creative thinking, and technical excellence, guiding you from concept to launch and beyond.

If you want your app to hit the market faster, perform better, and delight users, choose your partner carefully. Ask the right questions. Look for proven expertise. And think long-term.

Your future app (and your business) will thank you.

[lathiyawebsolutions-blog]

In today’s mobile-first world, having a responsive website is no longer enough. Users are increasingly relying on mobile apps for better speed, performance, and convenience. If your business already has a website and you're thinking about expanding your digital presence, converting your site into a mobile app can be a game-changing move.

But where do you start? How do you make the transition smooth, effective, and worth the investment?

This step-by-step guide walks you through everything you need to know to successfully convert your website into a mobile app.

Why Convert Your Website into a Mobile App?

Before we dive into the “how,” let’s quickly look at the “why.” Mobile apps offer:

Faster load times and smoother performance

Offline access to certain features and content

Push notifications to engage users in real time

Deeper integration with device features like camera, GPS, or contact lists

Improved UX/UI tailored specifically for mobile devices

Apps are also more likely to foster brand loyalty and repeat visits, which can boost retention and sales.

Step 1: Evaluate Your Website’s Structure and Content

Not all websites are equally ready for app conversion. Start by assessing:

Is your website mobile-responsive?

Is the user experience smooth on smartphones and tablets?

What features do you want to keep, remove, or enhance in the app?

The more streamlined and purpose-driven your site is, the easier it will be to transform it into a functional app.

Step 2: Decide Between a Native App or Hybrid App

There are two main approaches to app development:

Native Apps: Built specifically for iOS or Android using platform-specific languages (Swift for iOS, Kotlin/Java for Android). Offers the best performance and integration but requires more resources.

Hybrid Apps: Developed using frameworks like Flutter, React Native, or Ionic. They run on both platforms with a single codebase — faster and more cost-effective but slightly less optimized than native apps.

If you're unsure where to begin, it helps to consult a mobile app developer who can assess your business needs and recommend the best development path.

Step 3: Choose the Right Development Approach

You have several options here:

Hire a professional app developer or agency – Ideal for custom, scalable apps tailored to your needs.

Use app builder platforms – Like AppMySite, Convertify, or BuildFire, which allow you to convert a site into an app with minimal coding.

In-house development – If you have a dev team, you can build it yourself using your preferred tech stack.

Some businesses choose to take expert Android application development solutions for advanced features and performance, especially when targeting a large Android user base.

Step 4: Design a Mobile-First User Experience

Even if your website looks great on mobile, a mobile app interface must be designed differently. Think about:

Touch navigation and gesture controls

Simplified menus and clean layouts

Thumb-friendly buttons

Fast-loading content and minimal distractions

User expectations on apps are higher — so smooth navigation and performance are key.

Step 5: Integrate Core Features for Mobile Use

Some features work better in apps than on websites. These include:

Push notifications

Offline content support

Location tracking

In-app messaging or chat

Payment gateway integrations

Whether you’re planning to build complex features or just want to build a simple Android app with clean navigation and core functionality, starting with a feature roadmap will help streamline development.

Step 6: Connect the App with Your Website (If Needed)

If you want the app to sync with your existing website — for example, pulling blog content, user logins, or product data — you’ll need to set up APIs or use headless CMS structures.

This ensures real-time updates and keeps your app aligned with your website’s backend.

Step 7: Test Across Devices and Platforms

Before launching, thoroughly test your app on both Android and iOS devices. Check for:

Bugs and crashes

Layout issues

Navigation and usability flaws

Load times and responsiveness

You can use tools like Firebase Test Lab or Appium for automated and manual testing. This is especially critical for businesses planning both Android and iPhone application development, ensuring consistency across platforms.

Step 8: Prepare for App Store Submission

Each app store has its own set of guidelines:

Apple App Store: Very specific and strict on UI, quality, and functionality

Google Play Store: Slightly more flexible but still has clear policies

You’ll need to create a developer account, prepare app descriptions, screenshots, privacy policies, and other assets for submission.

Step 9: Promote Your Mobile App

Once live, you need to promote it! Here’s how:

Add app download banners on your website

Promote via social media and email marketing

Offer incentives for early users (discounts, loyalty points)

Collect feedback for continuous improvement

Early adoption is crucial — and so is encouraging reviews and ratings on the app stores.

Step 10: Maintain and Update Regularly

Post-launch, don’t go silent. Monitor performance, gather user feedback, and roll out updates consistently.

This includes fixing bugs, optimizing performance, and adding features based on real-world usage. Many businesses also set up analytics tools to track app engagement and behavior.

Final Thoughts

Converting your website into a mobile app can dramatically improve user experience, customer retention, and overall business growth. But it’s not just about copying and pasting your site into an app shell — it’s about reimagining your online presence for a mobile-first audience.By following a thoughtful, strategic approach — and working with the right professionals — you can ensure your app delivers real value to your users while reinforcing your brand in a competitive digital landscape. Want to see real examples and tips in action? Follow us on Instagram for mobile app insights, client stories, and behind-the-scenes of our latest projects.

[cooliofango]

Kissing Lessons

Lucio Correia dos Santos x GN! Reader

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Just a cute little something to get the creative juices flowing! Hope you enjoy~

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A sigh slipped from his lips as he sat cross legged before you. It was clear that the DJ felt awkward. Then again, who wouldn’t feel awkward asking their best friend to help them learn how to kiss? Sorry, correction: Who wouldn’t feel awkward asking their crush to help them learn how to kiss? Despite how famous he may be in the music industry, Lucio has no experience with relationships. This included kissing. This question originally derived from a previous conversation with a few agents of Overwatch had about half a week ago. They were speaking of what they planned to do for the break they were getting from their usual work. Most had planned to spend their break with their significant others, which rose a curious question: ‘Do you have someone you like?’ The sudden question caught him off guard, and though he said no (albeit a stuttered mess), his blushing face told a different story. It didn’t take long for those agents to figure out who it was that Lucio had a (not so) little crush on. With much needed encouragement, he was ushered to figure out a way to get closer to you- and what better than a lesson on kissing? As someone who’s dated people in the past, it seemed perfect, right?

It was a decision he was coming to regret out of sheer embarrassment. It felt stupid. HE felt stupid. And yet you had eagerly agreed to help him out. Not that you knew that he was doing this because he liked you. His gaze avoided you, causing you to frown as you looked at him. Your arms crossed over your chest and you leaned forward. Lucio looked to you and leaned back in a bit of surprise at the sudden closeness. “Tip number one, eye contact. Your partner won’t know that you’re trying to kiss them. They’ll probably think that something’s wrong.” Lucio quickly nodded, clearing his throat before speaking. He didn’t want to stutter and embarrass himself more. “Right! Sorry..” He chuckled anxiously, rubbing the back of his neck. Your frown softened, leaning back. “Is everything alright, Lucio?” The concern was clear in your voice and in your expression. It sent a small panic in the DJ- he didn’t want to make you worry over something so silly. “No- I mean yeah! I’m okay, (Y/N).”

Your eyes didn’t leave him for a moment, but soon enough you relaxed your shoulders and calmed your worries for the time being- or you seemed to push the thought away for the time being. Your smile returned and Lucio’s heart fluttered at the sight. It was one of his favorite things to see. Hell, he could make a giant ass list about what he loved about you- but that’s something he’ll have to save and share for another time. For now, he’ll have to just focus on your voice. “Let’s get started.. One thing to remember when you kiss someone is to not rush things, especially on the first kiss. Take things slow. It doesn’t have to be anything long and passionate- but be gentle. You don’t want to accidentally hurt your partner by being too rough.” Lucio sat in silence, though his eyes remained on you as he took in each thing you said. An occasional nod was given to let you know he was listening and that he understood.

“As for actually kissing... I don’t think you really have to pucker your lips much to get a good kiss. Doing it too much can actually make things a bit silly or a bit weird- it depends on the person and how many times you’ve already kissed before.” Your eyes drifted off to the side in thought. It was a cute little quirk he’s noticed when you’re super focused on whatever you are doing. This can range from your job, a hobby you enjoy, or just putting things together in general. “If you need, you can watch any romance flick and it’ll give you a visual example on how to kiss and how it looks. Though most people tend to do better with personal experience. I’ll leave that for you to do with who ever you decide to kiss.” Lucio slowly tuned out what was being said. It wasn’t to be rude- a thought had just occurred to him. He could do it now..! Kiss you, that is. He didn’t have a partner- but he wanted you to be his partner. He wanted you to be the one he decided to kiss.

Lucio’s lips parted a bit nervously, releasing a silent sigh to try and help calm his racing heart. He hadn’t even preformed the action yet and he was flustered by the mere thought of going through with it. Yet, despite this, he couldn’t get the desire out of his head. You had continued to speak about what to do and what not to do when kissing someone when Lucio leaned in. It was a very quick yet sweet kiss. One that quickly shut you up. You stared in surprise, eyes widened and cheeks flushed a deep red to present this with ease. Lucio could feel his own face burn the same color as yours. Just as he had done before, he cleared his throat to prevent a stutter. Instead of a stutter of embarrassment, it would be one of bashfulness that he would suppress. “Was.. that okay?” Lucio couldn’t help but crack a large grin at the slight giddiness he felt. Even if he had to face rejection in that moment, he was glad to get that off his chest.

Your lips pressed into a thin line, and your gaze drifted in thought. “Well.. no.” You spoke in a flustered mumbled. With your eyes to return to the boy before you- one who looks a tad hurt by your words- and your posture to straighten, you continued. “Try again- but a bit slower. I said it doesn’t have to be anything too slow, but giving a kiss too quickly doesn’t give any time for your partner to enjoy the kiss for even a moment. Lucio’s eyes widened in surprise. Try again..? He slowly nodded before carefully leaning forward once again. Though he was a bit hesitant, he did press his lips to yours once again. The kiss was as sweet as it was before, though he keep still to elongate the kiss further than he did before. A hand raised to rest on his cheek to keep him in place as you pulled away to speak- albeit that you hadn’t pulled away further than a couple of centimeters. “Y-you’re tense.. relax. A kiss is supposed to be a good thing, not stressful.” You spoke quietly this time. There wasn’t any reason to be any louder with how close the two of you were.

“Mmh.. right..” He muttered before easily closing the gap between the two of you once again. Lucio kissed you with more passion than before, moving closer to you so he could wrap his arms around your waist. An exhale through his nose and his muscles relaxing against your form helped to tell you that he wasn’t tense anymore. Actually, he seemed to be more into the kiss than before. Lucio carefully tugged you onto his lap, not breaking the kiss for a moment. Your arms wrapped around his neck and your tilted your head to deepen the loving kiss. It was just when you had feel his hands slide under the ends of your shirt when the door opened. The two of you parted quickly in surprise, both of your faces beat red. You both looked at the culprit who had interrupted your growing make out session: Lena Oxton, aka Tracer. She looked taken back by the sight, but it wasn’t long before she broke into a grin. “So you finally got the guts to tell them, huh?” She giggled at the embarrassed look on Lucio’s face and the questioning look that asked for confirmation on yours. “Well, I’ll leave ya too it! We can hang out later!” Lena waved her parting before dashing off, kicking the door closed behind her. 

Lucio released a breath he hadn’t fully realized he had been holding until now. His head hung down and rested on your forehead in a small attempt to hide his blushing face. You couldn’t help but find this cute.. but it was also a bit funny. With a laugh, you raised a hand to rest on the back of his neck and one to gently rub his shoulder. “You know, you could’ve just told me that you liked me.” The only response you got from him was a slight hum of acknowledgement. You carefully rested your chin on top of his head. “I love you too, Lucio.” He held onto you a bit tighter. You had flustered him even further. There was a slight silence that hung in the air. It wasn’t uncomfortable, of course. It was actually very loving. “Will you sit up if I give you another kiss?” You offered him in a lower tone, leaning down close to his ear. Lucio’s arms tensed a bit in surprise, yet he slowly sat up to look up at you and carefully nod. You were, once again, only able to laugh at how adorable he was before reconnecting your lips to one another's to continue where you left off.

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Aaaand done! Enjoy this cute story~

[babyybitchhh]

Ogun x Reader 18+

Rating: Explicit/R-18+

Words: 8,375

Warnings: established relationship, cunnilingus, brief mention of breeding/pregnancy implication, piv sex, creampie

A/N: I really did not think I'd finish this and yet, months later, here we are. I said I wanted to do Ogun's hair for him so that is exactly what I did. 😤 A LOT of research went into the first half of this fic, I can't even tell you how many braiding videos I watched or how many haircare blurbs I read through, so if my ignorance shows I really do apologize. I can barely do my own hair let alone someone else's and I put in a lot leg work for about 5 paragraphs of relevant information. lol Best boy deserves it though, so please enjoy!

♥♥♥♥

The quiet drone of the TV against the far wall was the only source of noise in the small apartment and neither of you were paying any attention to it. Hadn’t been for the last few hours, but that was how most wash days went. The background chatter was superfluous at best when you had all of your attention zeroed in on your boyfriend's hair and Ogun was pleasantly dozing at your feet, lost in his own little world of pampered bliss.

It did, however, serve its purpose in helping you better keep track of the time. If left to your own thoughts, you would have all too easily slipped into the same comfortable lull as him and forgotten about everything else you had to do. Like think about food, for example.

Briefly glancing up at the sound of cheesy sitcom music, you mentally check off another half hour. It was starting to get late which meant he’d probably be starving by the time you were done and that wouldn’t exactly come as a surprise given you’d been at this for the better part of the day. All that hard earned muscle mass of his certainly wasn’t going to maintain itself.

And, now that you were thinking about it, you were starting to notice the creeping pang of hunger in the back of your mind, buzzing faintly like an incessant afterthought.

Drawing a breath, you start to ask if he’s in the mood for anything in particular but Ogun manages to beat you to it.

“What should we do for dinner?”

You smile to yourself, fingers deftly moving through his hair with practiced ease -- under, scoop, under, repeat -- while you give that question some thought. Surely there was something you could whip up with what you had on hand in the kitchen. The real question, however, was what.

Doing a quick mental checklist of your cupboards, you rapidly narrow down your options. A fast and easy pasta dish was out of the question without the sauce or any ingredients to make it with. No meat for hamburgers. There was still some salad mix in the fridge but he needed something far more substantial than that. Damn. You should probably go shopping soon.

“Hmm,” Gently tilting Ogun’s head forward, you pick back up on the half finished braid you were working on. He was almost done, with only two rows left to go. The argan oil and shea products you’d put in his hair left your fingertips feeling buttery smooth and soft, their lingering smell as warm as it was soothing. It permeated the air in the living room, enclosing you both in your own little bubble for two and making for an altogether pleasantly relaxing Sunday afternoon.

“Let’s see …” You murmur at length. “I could probably make a stir fry with some vegetables and shrimp. How’s that sound?”

“As much as I love your cooking,” He shifts on the floor and glances over his shoulder, forcing you to pause what your fingers are doing. “I was thinking we could order in tonight. My treat.”

Your smile grows even when you try to ignore the unmistakable flutter in your chest. “Oh? And what’s the occasion?”

“There isn’t one.” His mouth curls up, mirroring yours. “But if you need an excuse, consider it thanks for doing my hair.”

“That’s sweet of you, but I’m not finished yet.” Placing a hand atop his head, you pointedly turn him around straight again and Ogun laughs, very softly, when you release him so you can get back to work.

You enjoyed getting to do this for him and the fact you liked playing with his hair was no secret either. It was wild and thick, very close to being untamable, but it was also incredibly healthy -- something you would have all too happily taken credit for if it hadn’t been in the same enviable condition as when you’d first met him. That he trusted you enough to let you do this was, perhaps, more intimate than anything else you’d ever done together, and with a few more twists you put the finishing touches on the braid.

Letting it hang next to the others, you direct him to lean back so that you can easily reach the front of his hairline again. He acquiesces without a fuss and sinks into the couch, letting the back of his head settle comfortably in your lap. Ogun’s shoulders brush your knees when you hunch closer with a pink rat tail comb in hand and you’re acutely aware of him watching you as you begin sectioning out the next row. You start to smile again, even though you try not to.

“What?”

“I’m still waiting on an answer.”

You shoot him a quick look.

Golden eyes gleam back at you, reflecting endearment and humor alike, and you quickly focus in on his blown out, fluffy hair again before he can successfully distract you. “I don’t know. You pick.”

“Nope.” He hums goodnaturedly. “That’s not how this works. You can’t just push it back on me when I asked you for a reason. Tell me what you want.”

“I really don’t know - hey!” You squawk when he gives the back of your calf a sharp pinch in retaliation for being so uncooperative and you squirm, giggling. “Don’t do that! I’m honestly not sure what I’m in the mood for.”

“Then think about it.”

“I am.” You intone, gently pushing Ogun’s head forward just enough to get at the crown of his head. Relative silence claims the room once more while you consider an almost endless list of potential choices and finish up the second to last braid. Thankfully without any more pinching attacks on his end. He was going to look so nice when you were done.

“What about a pizza?” You suggest at last.

“I’m game.” He murmurs, slouching to the side so he can rest his temple against the plush cushion of your leg. It gives you the perfect angle to attack the final strip from and you get to work weaving coarse strands into his preferred fashion, your fingers moving quickly but efficiently. You’d practiced tirelessly just to ensure he wouldn’t have to go to someone else for this without skimping on the finished product's quality and it certainly showed.

A few moments later, the task is complete.

Grabbing an elastic band, you gather Ogun’s styled hair into a neat little ponytail and tie it off at the back of his head. You finish up by running your fingertips across one shaved side of his scalp, affectionately feeling out the new growth before deciding he can go another week or two until you have to bring out the clippers again.

“Alright. You’re all done.”

Lifting a hand to feel over his hair, he twists around and peers up at you with an expectant grin. “How do I look?”

“Like the most handsome man in the world.”

Ogun positively beams. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Leaning close, you press a brief kiss to his smiling mouth. “What sort of pizza do you --”

He cuts you off when he suddenly pushes up on his knees and catches your lips again.

Your eyes go big when broad hands find the meat of your thighs and gently squeeze them while he kisses you much more impassionedly than you’d kissed him. A sound of surprise rises in the back of your throat but he quickly swallows it, making your heart race.

Heaving a quiet sigh through your nose, you lean into the gesture and meet him halfway, eagerly kissing him back.

Grinning knowingly, Ogun tilts his head and slots his mouth more securely over yours to deepen the exchange. You find yourself slowly melting against him and you bring your hands up to grab onto his shoulders. God, he was unfairly good at this. Not that you were complaining, but a polite segue from one topic to the next would have been appreciated. You’d been thinking about dinner, what sort of toppings you wanted on your pizza, and now you were thinking about …

You groan, very softly, when his palms drag up along your sides, bunching the cotton of your t-shirt in the process. It allows for the briefest skin on skin contact and an eruption of goosebumps spreads across your body, as anticipatory as they were impatient.

Lips parting, you grant him access and Ogun jumps at the chance, eagerly sweeping his tongue into your mouth to lav yours with warm, wet attention. The smooth, flickering strokes he graces your palette with inspires a flood of molten heat in your gut that leaves you wanting more. Always more. It was never enough where he was concerned - and you slide one of your hands higher still to tenderly cradle the curve of his skull.

Much to your whining disappointment, however, he pulls back a moment later to give you some space and you whimper at the loss.

“Ogun …”

“Shh. I’m right here, baby.” He whispers, leaning back in to press a quick peck to your lips before doing the same to the corner of your mouth.

It’s not enough to pacify you though and you loop both arms around his neck, trying to pull him back in again. He obliges with an affectionate nuzzle, pressing close to settle against your lap and pin you to the back of the couch under his sturdy weight.

“What's wrong, sweetheart?”

You pull your mouth in an imploring pout. “I’d like for you to finish what you started.”

He laughs, sweet and boyish as he pulls back to fix you with a big grin. “Oh? And have I ever left you wanting?”

“No, but I’d hate for you to start now.” You sound a little whiny. Needy.

Another quiet laugh and Ogun comes in to kiss you again, much more sedately this time. His soft lips mold seamlessly to yours, working against your mouth at just the right speed, with the right amount of pressure to steal the air from your lungs.

You let loose a soft moan as you arch underneath him and push your chests together, basking in the fleeting contact despite how unsatisfying it is. What you really want is to have his body working over yours without the impediment of bothersome clothes in the way. To feel the chorded steel muscle he’d worked so hard to build flexing and driving into you.

A shudder ripples through you when the thrumming desire that wells inside slithers out from between your legs to ignite the rest of your body in heated flame. An all powerful compulsion which you wouldn’t have fought even if you could.

His mouth still working in tandem with yours, Ogun gives your waist a possessive squeeze and it sends a fresh wave of sharp arousal racing down your spine. You whimper, pushing up into him a little harder, more fervently, as you clutch at his shoulders. The need to have him laid out on top of you has taken over your higher functioning mind, all thoughts of pizza long gone out the window as the velvety push and pull of his mouth draws you further under his spell.

Willingly, you surrender to the exigent summons and curl your legs up around his narrow hips to tug him even closer, urging him into action.

A hot puff of air fans across your face when he abruptly disengages from the kiss, moving to press his lips against the apple of your cheek, your jaw. There’s a noticeable haste in his actions now and you turn your head to give him better access, exposing the vulnerable line of your throat to his seeking mouth.

Ogun wastes no time and immediately swoops in, pecking his way down the column of your neck with an occasional love bite here or there for good measure. Each one seemed to make your toes curl that much tighter to the point where you could hardly stand it anymore.

“You play dirty …” You mumble, lightly running your nails across his nape.

“Mm, how so?” He sounds distracted and preoccupied, too busy mouthing at your pulse to pay it any mind.

“You told me to decide on dinner …” You trail off when he latches onto the juncture of your neck and shoulder, immediately succumbing to the tantalizing suction Ogun applies with his lips. You let out a soft, faltering groan, brows furrowing in pleasure when it makes the simmering heat in your gut double and then triple as teeth sink into delicate skin.

Shuddering, you deliberately wrack your brain in an attempt to finish your train of thought but that proves much more of a struggle than you’d been prepared for.

“But … nngh, but now all I want is you …”

He comes up at your somewhat dreamy admittance, a mischievous look camping out on his face even as big hands push at the hem of your shirt. “Oh yeah? Anything you want in particular, sweetheart?”

Lifting your gaze, you peer up at Ogun from just a scant few inches away. The shallow rise and fall of your chest has no doubt clued him in that he’s got you all worked up now but you aren’t exactly trying to hide it. He already knew just how weak you were for him, knew precisely how well your body always responded to his advances, so there really wasn’t any point in pretending otherwise.

You were powerless against his undeniable charm and he seemed to get just as much enjoyment out of that as you did. And looking at him now you think, not for the first time, that you just might be the luckiest girl in the world.

“Let’s start with that talented mouth.” You murmur, reaching out to take his smooth jaw in hand and pull him, grinning, into another kiss.

Noising quietly against your mouth, he leans further into you until it feels like you’re being pleasantly crushed under the hard, muscular weight of his frame. It only serves to get you even more riled up, now well and truly desperate to feel his bare skin flush against yours as you roll your hips forward and drag your clenching pussy across the front of his pants.

Lips parting on a heady groan, he returns the favor by slowly thrusting his pelvis forward so you can feel the stiff outline of his cock caressing your clothed slit. You keen at the sensation and cant your hips into the pressure, the two of you gradually picking up a steady, unhurried rhythm together that damn near drives you wild.

Hands staying busy while he sedately humps you, Ogun patiently works your shirt up higher and higher until it’s bunched under your armpits. Reaching around for the clasp of your bra, he gives it one good tug and the satiny soft material loosens around your shoulders with a near silent slither. Bringing his hands to the front again, he shoves the cups up out of the way before letting them descend on soft, pliant breasts that seem to fit just right in the curve of his worn palms. Giving them both a gentle squeeze, he kneads your chest until you groan and tip your head back, breaking apart from the kiss in favor of sighing up at the ceiling.

He takes that opportunity to dip his face close and press an open mouthed kiss to the center of your sternum while he carefully squeezes your tits in a pinching grip. It makes you shudder, wishing you could clench your thighs and ease the growing ache there, but that’s impossible when he’s slotted between them like this. You have no choice but to endure the thrumming tension and you squirm underneath him, needily bucking up to meet the next thrust of his hips with a frustrated little groan.

“Ogun,” You gasp, letting your fingers scrabble to grab hold of his black t-shirt and tug on it. “I need you. Now.”

Bringing his head up, Ogun allows himself a moment to drink in the wanton expression on your face while he cups his hands around your breasts almost reverently. “How do you need me, baby?” He mumbles, letting his thumbs brush over your stiff nipples in a feather light caress. “What do you need?”

“Your mouth …” You whine, practically choking on it.

“Where do you need my mouth, huh? Tell me.”

“On my pussy.” It’s more a plea than a statement and you shake for him even as the words leave your mouth.

Ogun shifts against you and bends down, mouth opening wide over the pebbled peak of your breast. You watch on, mesmerized, when the pink of his tongue darts out to lap at the fleshy bud before sealing his lips around it and suckling. Your eyes slip shut as you arch, pushing your chest up to meet him while your fingers cling to the cotton of his shirt. Ogun doesn’t linger long though and he soon comes up off the first with a dull pop before catching your other nipple between his lips.

Briefly worrying it, he slides his hand forward to tweak the spit lathered bud between thumb and forefinger, making you outright seethe. You give up on getting his top off with an impatient little huff and bring your hands down to grasp at his arms instead. The firm, wiry muscle under his skin offers little give no matter how hard you squeeze or dig your nails in, and he remains ever unperturbed, casually sucking the tip of your breast to stiff, throbbing attention.

“Please, Ogun …”

With a faint hum, he comes up off your chest and presses a quick peck to the puckered nipple. “I know, baby. I know.” Moving back to the first nipple, he kisses that one too. “Just be patient, alright? You know you don’t have to beg me to go down on you …”

You groan at the velvety suggestion and tuck your chin down to pin him with an imploring look. Ogun offers you a lopsided grin in return, pinching both your nipples between his fingers and carefully tweaking the sensitive flesh until you outright gasp. You feel like you’re running on autopilot now as you reach up to sandwich his face between your palms and pull him into yet another kiss, lips crashing together with an intensity that makes your pussy flutter.

His mouth parts against yours, opening wide as if to swallow you whole, and all the while he keeps plucking at your tits until they’re aching almost as much as your neglected cunt. You couldn’t take it anymore ...

Tightening your legs around Ogun’s waist, you dig your heels into the small of his back and draw him right up against you so you can feel the hard weight of his cock digging into the spot where you need him most. A frazzled, high strung wail claws its way up the back of your throat as you jut your pelvis up and rub yourself against that thick, pulsing heat in search of some relief but very little is forthcoming like this.

He pulls back at the sudden friction thoufg and issues a faltering groan that seems to echo off the walls for as quiet as it is. “Shit … you really want it that bad, baby?”

“It’s your fault …”

“I know, I know.” Bending close, Ogun presses a hard peck to the center of your chest. “And I’ll take responsibility for that, don’t you worry.”

Lower he trails, slowly kissing his way down your fluttering stomach as his hands come around to unbutton your shorts. The zipper quickly follows suit and then he’s tugging them down your thighs while you eagerly twist to help get you undressed just that much quicker.

Thoughtlessly tossing them aside, Ogun reaches for your panties next but he’s much more subdued in removing these. One torturous fraction at a time, he carefully pries the thin cotton away until they’re low enough to expose your puffy slit to the air. He lets out an appreciative noise of approval when he sees the sticky mess you’ve made along the seam and your heart pounds in your ears as you draw your legs up so he can slip the dainty cotton the rest of the way off.

He discards them somewhere on the floor, probably right alongside your shorts, before palming your bent knees. Gently, Ogun eases them apart so he can peer down at your sticky cunt with an unconcealed expression of hunger.

“Look at you, baby. Just look at this pretty pussy, already so wet for me.”

Smoothing big hands up along your bare thighs, he bends close and presses his mouth to the apex of your mound in a surprisingly chaste but hungry kiss. Digging your fingers into the couch cushions, you enticingly wiggle your hips at him and gold eyes flash at you from between your legs, amusement and something much more dark shining within them.

You feel his lips eagerly curl against you then, and he shuffles closer to the couch so that he’s hunched directly over your prone body. Hooking long fingers under one of your legs, he hauls it up and over his shoulder before repeating the process on the other side. Grabbing big, grasping handfuls of your hips, he uses his hold on you to drag your lower body just to the edge of the seat, making you squeak at suddenly finding yourself completely vulnerable and laid bare. Your pussy clenches tight in anticipation though and you tremble, drawing a steadying breath when he pecks at the soft swell of your inner thigh, warm breath puffing against your skin.

There was no denying that he had you completely at his mercy like this and you would have been lying through your teeth if you said that didn’t excite you.

“Comfortable?”

At your nod, Ogun leans forward just enough to bend your legs towards your chest and fold you against the top of the couch. He settles on his knees and dips his head down, mouth parting so his tongue can take a quick swipe from the bottom of your gushing cunt up to the top. The sight of it has you groaning for him, your vision swimming as you force yourself to keep watching.

That proves exceedingly difficult when he presses in close, making the meat of your pussy lips squish and mold against his face. Slowly kissing at you to work them open with his mouth, he flicks his attention up to regard your face and you practically vibrate on the cushions. Another swipe of his tongue hits its mark, wetly knocking your clit, and you let loose a seething mewl.

“O - ohh! Yeah …”

Ogun’s fingers dig into your twitching hips to keep them spread while he takes his time slowly swirling around that sensitive pleasure button. He starts at a wide breadth and then gradually works his tongue in tighter and tighter circles until he’s finally grinding it into oblivion. The soft, gooey friction of his mouth is enough to have you wheezing in pleasure as sweat beads, unnoticed, along your lower back and you arch, making your tits jiggle with the motion.

“Right there … don’t stop!”

Issuing a low sound of agreement, Ogun opens his jaw wider and drags his tongue straight up through your slick, juicy folds. You can feel every little thing - every nerve ending and every meaty bit of flesh that tries to cling to the textured muscle and your legs jerk at the sensation.

Tossing your head back against the couch, you blindly reach down to grasp his knuckles in a death grip. “Ah, haah … feels good ...”

In lieu of a proper response, he tilts his head and attacks your thrumming clit from a different angle. He’s relentless, mercilessly battering that delicate little pearl back and forth with such fervor that it leaves you quaking under his attention, struggling just to breathe. You’re not sure how much more of this you can stand, the threat of tipping over the edge before you can even fully enjoy it looking like a very real possibility now, but then Ogun seals his mouth around the fleshy nub and sucks.

Hard.

“Oh!” You choke on a haggard, stuttering gasp of pleasure, lurching underneath him.

Confidently humming, he comes up off you with a dull pop and a sticky breath of air. “Looks like you’re already getting close.” Ogun murmurs, sounding really quite smug about that.

Never one to leave you hanging though, he crowds one of his hands between your legs and presses blunt fingers into your slit. Finding your throbbing clit again, Ogun starts to rub it in fast strokes made smooth by the viscous mix of saliva and arousal that absolutely coats your pussy and this time you practically shriek.

“Yes! Yes, I’m getting close! … nngghh … please, please, pleeease! Ogun, please!”

But he refuses to let up on your poor little cunt just yet. “Please what, baby?”

You twist, thighs flexing and going ramrod stiff around his head. Your vision was starting to blur around the edges, reflexive tears pricking at your eyes. It’s hard just to think straight let alone form a semi coherent sentence when he’s relentlessly rubbing your clit with roughly calloused fingertips like that, the friction almost too much to bear and quickly riding the line of overstimulation. You couldn’t handle much more of it.

“Pl - please put your dick in me! Please! I wanna’ come on your cock, Ogun! I’m buh - aaah - ah! - begging!”

A low, rumbling groan rises up in his chest but, still, he doesn’t stop. “I thought you wanted to come on my mouth?”

“I - I changed my mind!”

He grunts, deep and primal in his acknowledgement, and the sound races straight to your throbbing cunt.

You respond with a broken groan, only to nearly come right up off the couch when he withdraws his fingers and replaces them with his mouth. Supple lips part and work you open again so he can worm his tongue into the crease of your body. He delivers a series of taunting flicks to the straining bud hidden within, making you sensitively twitch, before dragging the flat of his tongue across it in broad, sweeping strokes. You could feel yourself tipping ever closer to the edge and, with a wheezing gasp, you reach down with both hands to cradle either side of his head.

You’re not sure if you want to push him away or draw him closer - as if that were even possible at this point.

“Oh - Ogun, wha - wait! Nngh … if you keep going - -“

Smacking his lips, he comes up just enough for you to hear him say “You’ll cum? Good.” Before diving back in.

The way he immediately opens his mouth wide and plunges his tongue into the satiny soft folds and creases of your cunt, teasing at your entrance, has you jolting as if you’ve been electrocuted. Gritting your teeth, you clutch him all the tighter while the building pressure inside you steadily inches towards blissful discomfort. Your heaving body was truly hanging in the balance now, entirely at his mercy (of which there seemed to be none) and your legs uselessly flex in the air when you squeeze them around his head. You could almost taste it in the back of your throat.

“Fuck! Right there …” you whine as you rock your pelvis against his mouth, the motion stiff and halting. “Right there, baby … I’m s - so - ooooh - close!”

Ogun grunts in approval and drags his tongue up to the top of your slit again, burying his face somehow even deeper into the cushiony give of your pussy. He glances at you, very briefly, from under the fall of dark lashes and the heady, masculine glint in those burnt gold irises sends a powerful shudder rippling down your spine. Your mouth drops open as if to scream but nothing comes out. For a worryingly long moment, it feels like you forgot how to breathe.

All you can do is watch on in thrumming suspense when he drops his gaze and gives his head a shake to jostle all the nerve endings in your cunt. The braids you’d worked on all day give a little bounce in their ponytail before settling again, and your eyes start to roll back when he flattens his tongue to your clit so he can grind down on it again. Static shoots through your system as you arch against him, so fitfully your back starts to ache in protest, but it was much too late. Nothing could stop it now, not even if you wanted to.

You suck in a haggard breath and the coil snaps, just like that. With an almost violent jerk, you devolve into a fit of convulsions that has you wailing up at the ceiling in total disregard for the upstairs neighbors. They probably heard you every time you and your boyfriend had sex but it’s not as if you could very well help it. Ogun was a talented individual by nature and that certainly transferred over into bedroom activities too.

Helpless, all you can do is cling to him through the full bodied tremors that shake you straight down to your core while he leisurely laps at your throbbing clit to ease you through it. He always seemed intent on milking your orgasms for all they were worth, and that certainly didn’t help your case with your neighbors either. It always felt like something of an out of body experience when he was the one going down on you and you couldn’t exactly say you disliked him for that.

The exact opposite, actually.

“Oh, god …”

With a stuttering groan, you slowly go limp as you come down from your high one piece of you at a time. It was hard to tell which jagged edges fit where, but you’re still acutely aware of the mess he’s made of your cunt when Ogun finally straightens and you feel a rush of fresh air hit your drenched slit. You shiver at the sensation and crack your eyes open to peer down at him, whimpering.

“You didn’t listen …”

Snorting a quiet laugh, he shifts against you and brings a hand up to swipe the glistening moisture from his mouth. “I only did what you initially asked for, sweetheart. That doesn’t mean I can’t give you the second request, too.”

Your lips curl in a warbling smile at that, and he grins right back.

Letting your head loll against the couch cushions, you contentedly watch as he brings your legs down off his shoulders so he can move to stand. Leaving you spread out and feeling like silly putty, he yanks his shirt over his head with one quick, fluid motion that makes his abdominals tantalizingly ripple before reaching for his pants next. He makes quick work of the button and then the fly, anticipation evident in his body language when he shoves them along with his underwear down to his feet.

Ogun’s thick cock bounces eagerly when he steps out of his discarded clothes, and the sight alone is enough to make your pussy clench tight. You still felt sensitive and over wrought, so fresh off the tail end of your orgasm, but that doesn’t stop you from moaning faintly at the sight of him.

You’d never known a more attractive man in all your life.

“Ogun …” You murmur, eyes slipping shut when your desire flares back at full force dizzyingly fast.

Your eyes immediately pop back open, however, when he slides his arms under your knees and leans forward to brace against the couch, folding you up like a pretzel. Your toes flex as you squirm underneath him, glancing down at your defenless little cunt with an excited squeak. Puffy lips can’t help but spread in this position and you easily catch sight of your swollen clit straining towards him in obvious need, not yet satisfied.

Hovering just a scant breath away, his straining cock - all silky smooth and heavy - twitches in anticipation, eager to sink into you. It doesn’t look like it's going to fit. It never does but, somehow or another, he always manages to squeeze every girthy inch of himself inside you and the thought alone has you throbbing in sharp, sporadic pulses.

It was almost embarrassing how fast you were bouncing back from the first round, but you can’t quite complain when you watch his hanging ballsack sway with the motion of getting himself situated and your pussy responds in kind with an intense pulse. He had the body of a breeder and you were sure he would’ve already had you heavy and round by now if only you weren’t on birth control. Maybe someday, though …

“Ogun …” You were starting to feel well and truly delirious now, and you reach up to dig your nails into his forearms for leverage to ground yourself with.

He doesn’t seem to mind it though, and he merely issues a soft grunt of acknowledgement as he rocks forward a bit to angle your defenseless pussy up at him more. You can feel yourself squeeze down and you groan, dazedly watching your own thighs flex in their bent up position but there was simply no way out of his hold now. The thought alone is enough to have you breathing out a stuttering puff of air, which you promptly choke on when he starts to lower his pelvis towards yours.

“Yes, yes, yes, please give it to me, I need it, I need it, please --”

You’re whining. You realize that on some level, but you’re much too consumed by this desperate hunger to have him rearranging your guts to care about that right now. It wouldn’t take Ogun long at all to have you creaming around him at this rate.

Unperturbed, he casually adjusts his position over top of you before swooping down to catch your babbling mouth in another heated kiss to silence you. The passionate force behind the gesture pushes your head back against the cushions and you relent, groaning into his lips as your hands fly up to offer his sides an encouraging squeeze.

Luxuriating under the strength of his body, you drag your palms up across his chest and higher still to grasp his shoulders. With a weak, halfhearted jut of your pelvis, you make a sad little attempt at angling your hips up enough to feel his leaking cockhead against your sticky cunt but it’s no use. He has you thoroughly pinned and at his mercy like this. His for the taking whenever he saw fit to skewer you on his sizable length and not a moment sooner.

It was too much.

You suddenly break from the kiss in favor of keening in soft desperation. He pulls back, stopping just long enough to regard you with that infuriatingly attractive, heavy lidded look before pointedly glancing between your bodies.

Slowly, you follow his lead only to swallow hard when his thighs flex forward and the underside of his cock skirts along your parted pussy lips. The crude way it bumps against your clit has you jolting at the sensation and clutching him all the more fervently. Your whole body positively shakes as Ogun shuffles his feet a little further apart and tries again, the bulbous glans slipping and sliding through petal soft folds once, twice - until it abruptly finds its mark on the third stroke.

Catching at your entrance, he pauses for a moment and then slowly starts to sink in. Your breath hitches, mouth opening on a silent scream as you watch the ruddy pink head slowly disappear into your body. The stretch is immediately felt, and it’s more than enough to make your greedy pussy flutter around the intrusion even as it gushes more sticky slick to ease the way.

But the more of him that slides into the gummy sleeve of your insides, the less good it does. He’s just too big - wider than he is long, yet still large enough to push your heaving body right to its limits. You hold your breath, head spinning, when he pushes further in and forces your squeezing passage to make room for him. More and more, until he’s about half of the way inside where he finally pauses to let you adjust.

You twitch, weakly writhing like a small animal caught in the merciless maw a steel trap. You were utterly powerless underneath him.

“Oh - Ogun! Fuck … fuck me - dear Sol, please just fuck me!”

He draws a slow, calming breath. “You’re still so tight, baby … I don’t want to hurt you.”

Whimpering, you reach between your legs and wrap trembling fingers around the base of him. Ogun moans after a few awkward pumps of your hand and tilts his face up at the ceiling, basking in the sensation of you jerking him while he’s half wedged inside your body.

It must feel good because it takes him a prolonged moment to get his bearings again and when he does, he carefully eases himself back just enough to give a tiny thrust forward. You can feel the moment he slips in a little deeper than before and you guide him into it, one sedate thrust at a time. When you stroke up, he pulls back and when you stroke down, he pushes into you. It’s a maddeningly cohesive rhythm that has you panting like a bitch in heat long before he finally slides home and you outright choke when the fronts of his thighs settle against the backs of yours a small eternity later.

“Shit,” He hisses, brows knitting as he peers down to admire the sight of his pelvis flush against yours. “That’s a tight fit … how’re you doing, sweetheart? It’s not too much, is it?”

You give your head a numb shake and roll your eyes up at him, teasing your fingertips through the mess of curls at the base of his groin while you do it. Words couldn’t even come close to describing how stuffed full you felt, but you loved it.

“N - no … it’s perfect … feels - ngh - good …”

Smiling, Ogun dips his face close to press his mouth to your forehead in a chastely sweet kiss. He stays like that as he carefully angles back until just the tip remains and then, so slowly you can feel it in your bones, he pushes back in. The drag is exquisite and it feels like you’re practically suffocating on the intense pleasure of every solid inch, each throbbing vein. You could feel it all.

A wordless cry of pleasure bursts out of you when he slides back out and in again at that same staggered pace. He’s so big you can feel the pressure on your cervix and when he wiggles his hips, grinding into you, oh god, it feels like he’s pushing the glans right on that raised ring of puckered flesh. Your mouth drops open but nothing comes out. It was hard just to keep your eyes focused anymore.

Haltingly, he starts up a gradual but steady pace as your body adjusts around the intrusion and makes room for him, your pulpy walls clinging to the length of him on each drawn out stroke. It comes as a great relief, particularly when the building pressure swells into high strung arousal and replaces the initial discomfort of being stretched right to the breaking point.

In a matter of moments, the sticky wet clicking that noises each time your pussy sucks him in deep on the downward thrust comes to dominate the living room. The sound of it only seems highlighted by your sensitive bleating and the husky groans slipping out of him, the drone of the tv so much an afterthought now that you forgot it was even on. Even when he picks up enough speed to drive the fronts of his thighs against your upturned ass, creating a sharp, fleshy slap, it’s nothing compared to the hungry slurping of your cunt.

You probably would’ve been embarrassed by the whole thing if only it didn’t feel like he was spearing you straight down the middle. It made your eyes cross, mouth hanging open in doped out bliss while you cling and clutch at him for dear life. There wasn’t a single inch of you that he didn’t touch like this and it lit up every nerve ending along the way like a goddamn firework.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d almost think he was going to break you in half.

“Such a pretty baby. Look how well you’re taking my cock ....”

You gasp. “Hnng, s’so big …!”

“And you’re taking all of it,” he murmurs, just this side of breathless. “Like a champ. Do you have any idea how good you look right now? Huh?”

You warble out an incomprehensible response, far too overwhelmed and riveted by the way Ogun’s cock glistens obscenely every time it makes another appearance between your thighs. Your fingers dig into his forearms, leaving crescent shaped marks in his skin and try not to scream in ecstasy while he carves out a space within you.

You loved watching him fuck you like this for a multitude of reasons, the most pressing at the moment being that it drove you absolutely wild.

“If you keep squeezing me like that … ngh, I won’t last much longer.” He warns, his tone far too strained to hold even a hint of real reprimand.

“I want it,” you blubber wetly. “I want it, Ogun, please …”

“You want me to cum in you?”

A jerky nod accompanied by a mewling whimper.

He lets out a shaky breath as the speed of his thrusts quicken and you jerk underneath him, bleating like something wounded. The muscles in his arms flex and twitch around you when he smoothly adjusts the positioning of his hands, hunching further over you without so much as missing a beat.

“God, you drive me crazy …”

You’d like to tell him the feeling is mutual but you don’t get the chance. A particularly sharp snap of his hips knocks something loose inside you and you uncontrollably shake, legs kicking up uselessly at the air with a wordless noise of soaring pleasure. Cumming again doesn’t seem like such a far off possibility and a frazzled whine claws at the back of your throat when he presses his sweat slick forehead against yours, prompting you to glance up.

Ogun’s eyes were always beautiful to look at but especially so when you were staring into them from just a hair's breadth away and they were clouded dark with primal need as well something much more weighty.

“Tell me you want it, sweetheart. Tell me.”

“I - ngh - aaaahh, I want your cum, Ogun! I need you to fill me uh - up, please, I want it so baaad!”

A shudder races through him and he groans, eyes slipping shut for a brief moment as if to get his bearings before cracking open again. Keeping his forehead against yours, he tilts his head down to look between the two of you and, once again, you follow suit.

The sinfully rich color of his cock, just a shade or two darker than the rest of him, looks all the more tantalizing coated in your slick. You’ve all but drenched him at this point, the tight curls that frame his length visibly damp and matted together now. You suck in a frazzled breath at the sight, your head spinning alarmingly fast when the building pressure in your gut becomes almost too much to withstand. How was it that one single man could make you feel so primal with need but tenderly cared for at the same time?

“I - -“ You all but choke on it, wheezing at the next stroke. “I’m gonna’ - ahh, cum again … don’t stop!”

“I’m about to cum too, sweetheart.” With a soft groan, he lifts his attention to pin you with a heady look of challenge. “Think we can cum together?”

You frantically nod. “Uh huh!”

The corner of Ogun’s mouth twitches at that, settling into a lazy smirk as he shifts back and slows the motion of his hips. You can’t help groaning in disappointment but you realize what he’s doing quickly enough when he lets up his hold on your legs so he can lower himself down to lay out on top of you. Working his arms under your overheated back, he practically crushes you to the front of him and you bring your own up to wrap them around his neck.

This new position increases the pressure in your guts by a noticeable margin and the air rushes out of you with a stuttering sigh when he crawls up onto the edge of the couch to pin your thighs under his weight. Your legs are just as useless as before, twitching impotently in the air when he eases his hips back as far as he can. He doesn’t make it far, just enough to feel the drag and the subsequent plunge, but it makes you cry out all the same.

Face shoved into your hair, Ogun lets loose a series of heavy grunts when he picks up his earlier pace and the same sticky clicking rises in the air again. It’s much less deafening this time, softer by virtue of his shorter strokes, and you gratefully clutch him against you, glad to hold onto him.

“You feel so good …” he groans, making you shudder at the puff of hot air against your neck.

You can’t quite find your voice though, and you respond with a faltering moan that has him twitching inside you. The thick bands of musculature across his shoulders dance under your fingers each time he moves, emphasizing the raw strength in his lithe body. And yet he was still being careful with you, the plunge of his cock as carefully measured as before so as not to slam against your cervix but still tease it.

It wasn’t even that he was unreasonably large but, rather, he just so happened to fit you like a glove and that was perhaps the most arousing part of all.

“Ogun,” you finally manage to whimper. “Mm’ gonna’ cum …”

“Me too …”

The quietly stricken groan that comes out of him next makes your toes curl. You clench around him in a palpitating flutter, so close to the edge it brought the sting of tears to your eyes. His hips stutter at the squeeze and he trembles against you, struggling to keep up the subdued thrusting he’d settled into.

It quickly proves futile when his body tenses up with a low, faltering moan that rattles so deep you feel it in your cunt. The air catches in your throat and you squeeze him with your arms across his back and your legs around his narrow waist, clutching him to you as he lurches. Blunt fingers dig into your skin and he gives a little jerk, issuing a sucker punched wheeze seconds before you feel the rush of hot seed flooding your cunt.

You tremble wildly, nails clawing into his back when the sensation of Ogun shooting thick ropes against your gummy walls makes your muscles clamp around him hard enough to send you over the edge. Writhing in bliss, you stutter out a groan that he matches with one of his own while the two of you quake through your orgasms as one.

It was transcendental in a way you never would have thought possible.

Dropping his face to the couch cushions when you finally start to grow still underneath him some moments later, he issues a rumbling sound of satisfaction. The ragged quality of your panting quickly rushes in to replace the sticky wet squelching of your cunt, and you go boneless while you try to catch your breath. That was a lot easier said than done though and he, predictably, recovers much quicker than you.

“I’m surprised we really managed to pull that off.” He hums in contentment and turns his face to kiss at your ear, teasingly soft. “That’s a first.”

“And hopefully not the last.” You wheeze, making him chuckle.

“You liked it then, I take it?”

Dislodging your cramping fingers from his back with a certain amount of effort, you bring your hand up to push the hair from your face. “It was amazing … intense. I didn’t think we could do it either.”

Ogun lifts his head to press his mouth to your check, your nose, the spot between your eyes, all with a big smile on his face. “I’m glad we did. I promise I’ll try my best to make it happen again but no promises, okay?”

You can’t quite stop from giggling. “Don’t worry. I have faith in you.”

“Glad to hear it.”

Pausing long enough to give your ribs an affectionate pinch, he carefully pushes up from the couch and leans back. His softened cock slips out of you in the process, and you internally wince at the dribble of hot cum that oozes from you without him there to stopper it.

You draw your legs up to keep the mess to a minimum when he stands, gleaming eyes taking in the sight of you curled up on your couch with his semen leaking down the crease of your pussy for a prolonged beat. And then, he grins.

“Wanna’ get cleaned up and I’ll order that pizza?”

“How am I supposed to think about food after all that?” You pout at him.

Sending a sly look down at the spot between your thighs, Ogun starts to turn towards the bathroom. “I’ll get you a rag. I’m sure you’ll realize just how hungry you are once the adrenaline wears off. Besides, you should probably refuel before I try to give you an encore.”

Smiling at that, you appreciatively glance down at his tight ass before he disappears through the doorway. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind he’d be able to pull it off.

[jd-loves-fiction]

Oberyn Martel smut please 🙏 (you know my limits)

🌙Gotta love prompt lists :))

Warnings: unprotected sex (this is fantasy land, not a good example), voyeurism?, creampie, a hint of a breeding kink, P in V sex :))

[11:48] "Sunflower?" Your lover, Oberyn, calls out to you as he's greeted by the warmth of the harsh sunlight and not of your body beside his.

"Good morning, my prince." You greet him in a warm, sultry tone, your voice buzzing through his veins like sweet dornish wine. You lean against the wall next to the door, having just stepped in, which was probably what awoke him.

Oberyn turns towards you, tangled in colorful silk sheets, still squinting against light, before his brows relax as his eyes land in you.

“Are you wearing my shirt?” His voice is deep and raspy while his eyes open wider to take more of you in. Your beautiful body, draped in a fine, flowy shirt, so long it should really be called a dress, open to reveal some loose pants. All in warm shades of yellow and orange and with sun details. No jewelry. You seem to have gotten up in a rush. But what a sight you are.

"Good morning to you too.” You chuckle, cheeks heated under his intense stare that sweeps over you, committing every detail to memory while you do the same to him. Silk sheets pooled around his waist as he sits against his hands, miles of tan skin on display beneath the golden light of morning. And what a sight he is.

A smirk curves your lips as push off the wall and start walking towards the Prince of Dorne. Your hands play with the shirt's edges teasingly, seemingly deep in thought.

“Wanna see what I’m wearing underneath all this?” One dark brow raises as words wrapped in honey leave your lips slowly, one knee on the bed as you look down at where he sits.

Warm fingers slip beneath the shirt's opening, brushing against your skin as he smirks, greatly amused by your brazen attitude.

Oberyn always did prefer the not so timid ones.

"Take it off. Slowly.” His eyes remain glued to yours as you begin undoing the buttons, revealing more and more skin, slowly, just like he asked.

The light fabric slides off your shoulders like water, falling to the floor like waves to reveal you bare underneath. Oberyn's eyes immediately zero in on all the newly freed skin unabashedly, drinking you in like a man parched. And hungry, by the look in his eyes.

“Do you know how beautiful you are? It’s truly distracting.”

"Good thing I'm the only one you have to focus on, right now." Your hands move to his shoulders as you lean forward until your breath brushes his lips. The Prince's hands moved around to your back, stroking your skin as his eyes bore into yours, never straying, even as yours did towards his lips.

Your beloved Prince is a patient man when it comes to love. So it's no surprise that you gave in before he did, pressing your lips hard against his.

Oberyn's hands pull you down onto the bed before he places his naked body over your yours, never once parting from your lips.

He takes the pants off of your body too, raising an eyebrow at the bareness beneath, before his lips descend upon your neck, leaving kisses and nips as he makes his way down.

"You see that mirror over there?" He asks, pointing towards a corner blindly as he refuses to let up on the marks he leaves on your skin. You spot what he was referring to and tell him so, rather quickly.

It's new, shiny and surrounded in gold leaf details like most things in the room. It mirrors their opulence as well as the abundant sunlight that enters he space. You nod at his question, still admiring the fine piece of decor.

"I’m gonna fuck you in front of the mirror, I want you to see how pretty you look when you’re spreading your legs for me.”

Oberyn Martell is nothing if not a creative lover.

You bite your lip at the image his words paint in your mind, so vivid and filthy.

Such is a poet's power.

"Come on." He says with a tap to your leg, sitting at the edge of the bed and waving you over with the soft wave of a hand. You sit between his spread legs, body limp over his as his hands immediately start exploring your body shamelessly. They grasp your breasts as his nose finds the side of your neck, taking in your familiar, comforting, scent.

His hands press you back to his chest as they wander down to your thighs, parting them until they're placed over his.

"Look at yourself, petal. I want you to see the beauty that I see. Even as I ruin you." He whispers directly into your ear as he digs his nails into your thighs, before one moves to hold your chin, turning it towards the mirror to ensure you’re looking in the right direction. Your eyes lock with his first, brown and filled to the brim with lust as they run over your skin, before they find your own and fuck.

You look like a mess already.

Bitten, spit-slick lips along with dark red cheeks and hazy eyes. Your chest rose and fell as Oberyn stares you down while massaging your thighs.

"My beautiful sunflower." He whispers sweetly, kissing beneath your ear as his fingers moved to your center. "My sun." You breathe back with a sign, turning your head to kiss your lover, unaware of his movements as his long fingers inch closer and closer to your core.

You jump as they make contact, hands flying to grip his arm in surprise as your noises are muffled by the prince's incessant lips. He teasingly brushes his fingers through your folds, only lightly nudging your clit on the way up and making your breathing stutter.

"Oberyn, please." You groan, looking into his eyes through the mirror and feeling his cock twitch against your back as you do.

"When you ask so nicely..." He trails off teasingly, winking at you in the mirror, before he slips one finger inside you, his other hand against your sternum as your back arches at the feeling of his finger so fucking deep already.

And then he fucking curls it, right against that spot that nearly makes your hips rise right off the bed. "Oh, already?" The damn tease asks, smirking beside your cheek as he knows the answer already.

"Your accuracy-- ugh, grows sharper everyday." You struggle to keep a steady tone but it falters and leaves you panting when the hand on your sternum drifts to join the other, right over you clit. "M-My sun."

His chest fills with pride at your praise. His ego needed no more stroking but, you just loved him too much not to tell him the truth of your feelings at any moment. This raw honestly is the base of your love, after all.

He inserts another finger in, as a reward of sorts, sucking dark marks onto your neck as you whimper while he stretches you.

As you breathe in deeply, attempting to get more air into your lungs to make up for all that you're losing with your pleasured gasping and panting, you smell something sweet and something spicy, no doubt from Oberyn's beloved candles. You remember calling him a mad man for having so many in a room filled with beautiful curtains and tapestries.

But his particular scent is overpowering, leather, the sea and something stronger that you can't identify. But it's him. And it smells warm and free.

"Come on, petal, eyes up." He reminds you gently as your eyes had fallen closed sometime during your reminiscing, briefly inserting another finger inside you. Before he pulled out, deeming you ready and himself impatient.

For all his patience, Oberyn Martell's blood runs hot with intense emotions only. And in this moment, he feels drunk on lust. He doesn't feel like waiting any longer.

"On your hands and knees." He orders, no nicknames, no sweetness, just pure need and a fading patience.

You do as he asks, arching your back to tempt him further and receiving a light smack to your behind as a warning.

He spreads your legs further until he's satisfied, lining his cock up with your soaking entrance. "Ready, sunflower?" It warms your heart that despite his fervent need to fuck you, he still asks if you're ready. You respond breathlessly with a 'yes'.

As his cock enters you, your breath leaves you along with any coherent thoughts. Even after so long, you're still caught off guard by him for the first few moments.

He nearly presses against your cervix once his hips meet your ass and the feeling makes your arms too weak to hold you up.

Your shoulders go down, and it feels as if he's moved even deeper if possible and it's giving your brain a hard time, mouth unable to close as drool escapes it.

"Oberyn! My love..." You moan and whimper as he starts thrusting, speed building until he's moving as fast as he does on the battlefield.

His hand settles over your throat, using it to pull you against his tan chest and to angle your face towards the mirror. "Look at yourself, my sunflower. See the beauty I get to see everytime I pleasure you." His voice was harsh, accent stronger than ever as he speaks, two skilled fingers moving over your clit quickly, urging you to show yourself the face he likes to tell you about after your passionate endeavors. He tells you it's the most beautiful sight he's ever been blessed with, and just seeing is enough to get him to the edge.

Perhaps it is simply a poet's flattery. But it's nice to hear nonetheless.

And now, you'll get to see it, if you can keep your eyes from rolling back, that is.

You try to call out your lover's name in between gasps and whimpers, but fail as his hips seem to speed up even more.

"Let yourself go, my love. And don't look away."

Your release consumes you, cum dripping down your thighs as Oberyn continues his movements mercilessly despite your trembling legs. Your hands grip his hair tightly, making him groan right into your ear as your cunt flutters around his cock.

"Oberyn, please-- fill me up, my prince, please." You babble out desperately as overstimulation begins to set in, making your vision blurry with tears and your whimpers even more high pitched.

"Fill you up, my petal? Oh, I can only imagine how beautiful you'd look swollen from my seed." He moans from deep within his chest, rumbling against your back as he drives himself crazy with his own words alone.

A few more thrusts and he spilt his cum inside you with moan that left you wet and wanting more all over again, before he placed a gentle kiss on your hair as he brushes it out of your face.

"You see it now, my sunflower? The gorgeous faces you make? Should get them painted, immortalized, no?"

Maybe it wasn't simply a poet's flattery.

[specialagentsergio]

plushie talk

summary: Spencer has trouble communicating his emotions sometimes. Luckily, his partner has taken it in stride.

pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader

category: fluff

content warnings: none

a/n: this was inspired by a tumblr video post. i saw it and immediately thought of writing a spencer fic about it. i’ve based this on my own experiences with being nonverbal and what i’ve learned from the kids i work with.

word count: .9k

masterlist

When you get home from work to find an angry blue octopus plush on the kitchen counter, you know Spencer’s feeling bad.

He had just gotten back from a case that afternoon, and you were looking forward to spending some quality time with him, but it looks like it might not be in the cards. The octopus indicates that the case was a bad one.

You drop your bag on the couch on the way to pick it up. You bought the plushie for him about four months ago. You’d come across it online while looking for a toy to buy for a coworker’s baby shower and immediately knew it would be perfect for him. Spencer’s a wonderful partner, and you love him very much, but he has trouble communicating his emotions sometimes.

“It’s like... I have all the words in my head, right? But sometimes I just can’t put them together, and sometimes I just can’t vocalize them. Sometimes it’s both,” he’d told you shortly after the first time you hit this roadblock with him.

And when he’s feeling really bad, he can end up completely nonverbal, which can be distressing for you. You know he can’t help it, and you’re certainly not judging him for it, you just hate seeing him in pain and wish he could tell you what you can do to help.

The plushie helps bridge the gap. It’s reversable—one side is blue and features an angry face; the other is pink and has a happy expression. It’s been a good way for you to know where he’s at without asking.

The alternate communication system has developed from there, and now you have a color system that expands on the two provided by the plush, giving him a simple way to express needs and wants. Red written down on the small notebook kept with the plushie, for example, means he doesn’t want to be touched, while yellow means he wants physical contact.

Picking up the plush, you look at the notebook now. Orange, which means he’s okay with being touched a little, and green, which indicates that his basic needs are met, so he doesn’t need food, drink or sleep. You’re relieved that black isn’t on the list. Black is the worst one—it means he wants to be left completely alone.

You’re pretty sure you know where to find him. You take off your shoes before gathering the plushie and notebook up and heading towards the bedroom. You open the door as quietly as you can. Spencer’s where you expected—buried under the comforter and sheets on the bed you share. You can just barely see some of his fluffy hair poking out of the top of the blankets.

You gently touch where you think his foot is when you approach to make sure he’s aware of your presence. “Hi, baby,” you say softly as you place the notebook and octopus on his bedside table. “I missed you.”

Spencer turns his head, moving the blanket just a bit to uncover his eyes. He squints up at you, which means he either has a headache, or has taken his contacts out.

“Purple?” you ask. Purple is the color for physical pain, and you’re glad to see him shake his head no. It’s the contacts, then.

You circle around to your side of the bed and get onto it, propping yourself up on pillows against the headboard. Spencer’s eyes have followed you and he continues to look at you now. “You have a color for me?” you ask him.

He winds an arm out of the blanket cocoon and signs yellow to you in the basic sign language alphabet.

You spread out your hands slightly. “Go ahead.”

Spencer scoots forward in the blankets, maneuvering himself until he can place his head on your lap. Your hands drop to his hair almost automatically. “Bad one?” you ask, even though you already know the answer.

He nods. You begin running your fingers through his hair and his eyes flutter closed. “I’m sorry, Spence. I’m glad you’re home, though.”

He keeps his head in your lap for quite a while, but you don’t mind. It may not be the way you imagined spending time with him, but you’ll take it.

Eventually he shifts, picking up his head and rolling over. He picks up the plushie from the bedside table and reverses it, changing the octopus from angry to happy. He pushes himself into a sitting position and slides on his glasses. Turning back to you, he takes one of your hands and laces his fingers with yours.

“Thank you,” he says quietly.

You smile at him. “Anytime.”

Spencer presses a soft kiss to your lips, then rests his forehead against yours. “How did I get by before you?” he sighs.

“I don’t know,” you reply with a small laugh, “but you’ve got me now.” Letting go of his hand, you put both of yours on the sides of his face and kiss him again, firmly this time.  

“God, I love you,” he says when you pull away.

“I love you, too,” you reply. “Should we order takeout, and then we can talk about it?”

You always talk about it when he’s feeling better. It’s important that you both process what happened, and address anything that may need to be fixed.

“Yeah, that’d be good.” He places a kiss on your forehead before you both get out of bed.

It may seem silly or juvenile, but your system works, and your relationship is stronger thanks to it.

---------------

tell me what you thought here!

[ojiro-s-hellish-site]

Sorry if this is too much for you but I AvPD (Avoidant Personality Disorder) and I wondered if you could some Shinsou with AvPD hcs? (It would make me feel less lonely)

That sounds lonely and ssaddening, we wish you the best of luck and emotional guidance...

Anyways, with the help of Mod Nick, we made this list as accurate as possible but if there is anything off then we are sorry, also we mixed the 2 requests into one:

SHINSOU ➡ (AvPD)

Lack of trust in others Low self-esteem Misinterpreting neutral situations as negative No close friends/lacking a social network Self-isolation Social Withdrawal

Cold, Distant, Exhausted and tense demeanor

Avoidance of occupational activities involving significant social contact out of fear of real or imagined aabandonment

Inhibition in new social situations due to feeling inadequate

Inferiority Complex

Impostor Syndrome

Refusal to initiate social contact unless its an emergency or he's already comfortable

Avoiding social situations or events unless mandatory

Avoiding situations due to fear of real or imagined abandonment

Anhedonia (lack of pleasure in activities)

Singular life goal/Lack of drive for anything more (his case it is being a hero)

Unwillingness to become involved with others unless already comfortable with the individual

----------------------------------------------------------

MONOMA ➡ (BPD)

Fear that they are being lied to, deceived, or exploited by other people Concerns/beliefs that friends, family, and romantic partners are untrustworthy

Reactive Attachment to people

Belief that relationships are more intimate than they actually are

Emotional instability Feelings of overwhelming emptiness Identity disturbances Impulsive/risky behaviors Inappropriate, intense emotional responses Unstable and intense interpersonal relationships Self-destructive behaviors

Rapid shifts between a Superiority complex and Inferiority complex

intense fear of real or imagined abandonment

intense/desperate efforts maintain relationships

Stress-induced-Paranoid thoughts

Chronic dissociation

Frequent episodes of derealisation and/or depersonalisation

Experiencing fleeting moods, opinions, and beliefs

Excessive mirroring (unconscious imitation of a person's mannerisms, body language, speech, personality or style)

Being overly sensitive to others’ emotional states Being willing but reluctant to disagree with anyone for fear of abandonment Feeling helpless and despaired when relationships come to an end

Conversions of emotional pain into physical pain [examples being his stress manifesting as heart flutters] (big factor for the fear of abandonment)

difficulty trusting others

Desperate attempts to avoid real or imagined abandonment

frequent conflict, arguments, and break-ups

Quick simple mood shifts

Excessive people-pleasing

[miyalove]

good luck kisses | atsumu

—pairing: atsumu x fem!reader

—warnings: best friends to lovers, manga spoilers (specifically the kurasuno vs inarizaki match), swearing, name calling, reader admires his thighs for a split second, *unedited

—synopsis: 3.1k | after countless times of refusing atsumu a good luck kiss, you figured that after the major lost against kurasuno— what better way to cheer him up?

—a/n: this is literally the cutest request ever, thank you so much, anon! + request are open!

you’ve know miya atsumu long enough to know that he’s over all a very likable guy. he’s charming, funny, optimistic, and the list could go on forever. but like any thing else, with perfect attributes comes a few flaws. sure, your best friend is handsome, skillful, and observant but damn is he stubborn.

a prime example of this bold trait is right now. 

it’s game day for him, nationals to be exact. you were waiting in the crowd with what felt like the whole of your school when you got a text. it was from your best friend, obviously, saying to meet him in front of the boy’s changing room 4. you responded with a quick, ‘i’m here’ when you didn’t see his lean figure any where near the entrance. as you waited, you observed the busy halls of the gymnasium.

this is a big game. you could tell from how the school’s going all out in with the cheering and decorations. you were so lost in your thought, you didn’t notice the changing room door creep open behind you.

as you got pulled into the room, you are fast to react. pulling your arm out of the supposed attackers grip, you turned back to run for the door but it was too late. it shut and from what you could see; it’s’ locked too.

“relax, doll,” instantly, your tense figure loosens up at the familiar voice. turning to your “attacker”, you send a sharp glare his way, “oh god, 'tsum. i thought i was gonna fucking die cause of your dumbass.”

you playfully hit his chest as he lets out a small chuckle, his signature smile resting on his lips. you can’t tell but it’s much brighter now that you’re here. he’ll never admit it, but there’s just something about you that makes his mood lighter...

“sorry, didn’t mean to scare ya,” as he speaks, he finds purchase on a lone desk in the corner of the large room. he hops up on it, all while facing you still. he’s legs dingle at the edge of the table. as he settled himself down, you see his smile falter a bit.

sad at the sudden distance between the two of you, you find yourself chasing after his warmth like moth to a flame. following his ways, you’re hoping on the desk next time him casually resting your head on his shoulder. in the midst of the comfortable silence, you speak up, “shouldn’t you be out stretching with the rest of the boys?”

“yeah,” his golden eyes can’t help but steal quick glances at you. he can smell the sweet vanilla of your shampoo with how close you are. you’re not looking at him, sadly, instead your focused on the bland walls of the changing room for whatever reason.

despite his thoughts, he continues, "i just wanted to see ya before the game." his words are sincere, you can tell, but even at that you don’t react much.

he doesn’t like how your attention isn’t all on him. yeah, you’re close practically sitting on his lap, but what’s the point in all this affection if you’re not truly with him. shifting his position, you pick your head up at the sudden movement.

the setter is facing you know, deep honey eyes meet your own. there’s something within his hues that you can’t make out properly, a spark that you sometimes only see when you’re with him. a warmth spreads through you at the thought, but quickly leaves once you remember who atsumu is.

he’s your best friend, you remind yourself, you’re not supposed to be feeling things like that for him. 

in the middle of your admiration, you didn’t even realizes he was speaking. “earth to (y/n)? are ya there?” he waves his large hands in front of your face, successfully knocking you back into reality.

shaking your head, you sigh with wide eyes, “sorry, what were you saying?”

in response, the taller boy lets out a teasing giggle. casually, he leans back onto the wall behind him spreading his legs a bit wider. for him, the action probably meant nothing but you can’t help but stare at the way his lean legs flex as he makes himself comfortable again.

“ya liking what you see, doll?” 

this couldn’t be happening. you just caught caught checking out your best friend like a piece of meat. embarrassed, you roll your eyes trying your best to rid of the thoughts of atsumu. not having enough courage to look him in the eyes, you can’t help but shift your attention away. furrowing your brows, the way you fidget with your fingers gets worse when you hear his voice again.

“avoiding eye contact won’t make you want me less, yanno,” he delivers this line with a teasing smile. when you finally shift your attention back to him (just the way he likes it) you notice a pink hue taking over his face. it’s light and if you hadn’t focused on it, you would have definitely missed it.

it’s causes a fluttering feeling in your chest knowing that your actions, and even his playful flirting, is affecting him too. shaking your head, you remind yourself why exactly you’re here.

“’tsumu, you have a game in—,” grabbing your phone, briefly you check the time, “about 9 minutes so why exactly did ya call me over here?”

as if a switch went off in his empty head, he jumps off of the desk the two of you were perched on and grabs at his volleyball club jacket.

“ah shit, i called ya over cause i needed my good luck kiss, but now i’m running a little later than i thought,” frantically, the setter opens and closes his lockers. the clanking of metal echoes in the room. grabbing random gear off the floors and on shelves, he’s slipping on one of his knee pads when he flashes you a beaming smile.

“unless of course, the time can help me out?” tilting your head, your brows scrunch up in confusion. what does he mean help him out? oh! the good luck kiss. 

looking back up at him, he’s hopping around with one shoe on, trying his best to slip on the his second knee pad. you can’t help but let out a little chuckle when he stumbles off balance and nearly falls straight on his ass. it’s a funny sight, your tall best friend wobbling and jumping around like a newborn fox hunting for the first time.

“’tsumu, you know i always say no whenever you ask for...” the two of you suddenly make eye contact. the setter’s lean figure freezes in the middle of the room. and despite his messy hair and frenzied appearance, he looks at you like he as all the time in the world. his eyes, though far away and obviously distracted, hold a much more deeper meaning within them. he’s almost daring you to say the magic words. under his intense eye, you feel small like prey getting watched from the distance by it’s hunter.

“... those things.” defeated, you avoid his strong gaze. you don’t see the way he stares at you (since your so focused on your feet dangling from the desk you’re atop of). you don’t see the way his eyes shine just a little darker or the way he smiles (a real, genuine one) at you with so much adoration and so much compassion that really it would take a fool to not see that miya atsumu is in love with you, his best friend.

it feels like now’s a good time to say it. whenever the two of you are alone, the feelings you give him practically suffocates him. he can’t help but to crave your attention or hear your laugh or make you smile (because you’re absolutely gorgeous doing nothing but you practically glow when you smile). with one shoe in hand and the other untied, the blonde feels like now is the best time to come forward... but of course, that’s not what he does.

“come on, doll. not even a small pe—” 

knock. knock.

the door swinging open, cuts his thoughts off.

“kita’s getting on our asses cause of you, again,” suna’s monotone voice breaks the uncertainty in the room. lingering his stare on your figure for a little too long, the setter nods at his teammate tying his shoe before walking towards the door.

“(y/n),” you wave at your fox-like friend at the mention of your name. quickly getting off the desk, you follow their lead in leaving the room. 

the two of them part ways, suna impatiently waiting for their setter to finish his farewells not too far behind him. “good luck ‘tsumu! even you suna,” at the mention of his name, suna nods.

leaning into your best friend, mockingly he puckers his lips only for you to roll your eyes at his childish behavior, “i said no, freak.” stepping back a little, atsumu let’s a out a playful chuckle while rolling his eyes, “whatever.”

instead of a kiss, you give him the next best thing; a tight hug to which he immediately returns. his arms rest on your waist while you feel the weight of his head on top of yours. his grip on you tightens when you pull away for the first time.

“3 minutes,” you mumble into his shirt as a warning. you’re practically choking on his ocean breeze clone with how deep atsumu is shoving your face into his chest.

trying your luck, you pull away one more time and to your relief, he lets go with a sigh. instantly, he gets ushered away by a peeved suna before he can say anything else. as he gets dragged by the arms, you wave goodbye with a smile, “beat those damn crows, guys!” 

“when i do, i better get my kiss!” is the last thing you hear before he get’s shoved through the gymnasium doors. 

hearing the buzz go off, it was the only sound you could focus on. it was the end and the outcome had been more than surprising— inarizaki had lost. the audience seemed to be stunted, the crowd including you had gone completely silent. all that you heard was kurasuno’s crowd screeching in glee. all that you saw was the dog pile of orange and blue uniforms happily cheering for their win.

your face morphs into pure irritation. eyes filled with fury, lips pressed into a line. to say you were pleased with the outcome of the game would be a complete lie. resentfully, you think aloud, “can’t they celebrate a little less publicly.” 

so caught up in side eyeing the flock of crows on the field, you barely noticed your own team huddling up to take a bow for the crowd. you only look away from glaring at kurasuno when you feel an all to familiar stare on you.

shifting your gaze, there in the gym floor is your best friend who is standing closely to his brother. you can see the hurt in his eyes despite being a notable distance away from him. 

in fact, the whole team’s aura shifts right before your eyes. they all wear emotionless smiles, heads down in shame. despite being friends with all the members of the team, you can’t help but focus on atsumu the most. 

his eyes had shifted away from yours, but even without his golden hues staring you down you can tell how hurt he is. you can tell just from the way he grits his teeth, the way he refuses to look up at the cheer squad, and how stiff his shoulders are that he’s taking the lose to heart. 

it breaks your heart seeing how rough he’s talking it. atsumu is a perfectionist and holds such a high standard for him and his team. he works hard every practice and even goes after hours because that’s how much passion he has in this sport. he’s blaming himself, you can see it written all over his face.

without thinking, you lean over the safety railing. bracing yourself to let outa loud scream, “‘TSUMU!” he snaps his head your way again. 

“JUST SHUT UP ALREADY!” mood instantly shifting, you think of the best way to get your best friend’s mood up. atsumu tilts his head in confusion, had you really heard him bad mouthing himself from all the way up there? 

“IT’S WRITTEN ALL OVER YOUR FACE, DUMMY! A WELL-PLAYED GAME IS STILL WORTHY OF PRAISE, NO MATTER WHOSE THE WINNER!” 

wide eyed, atsumu flashes you a brief smile. it doesn’t really reach his eyes like the ones you’re use to getting from him, but you decide that even a little happiness is better than none, right now. sending him a thumbs up, the whole team bows while simultaneously thanking the crowd. and with that, they disappear back into the gym halls.  

it seems that this is atsumu’s favorite way of meeting with you recently. here you were again, waiting in front of changing room 4 as per requested from atsumu, himself. instead of waiting though, you knock on the door hoping that you’re not interrupting any one whose actually using the changing room to, you know, change. 

“’tsumu?” creaking the door open, you poke your head into the room. the setter hums in response and you shut the door behind you when he motions for you to come in.

not wanting to beat around the bush (a trait atsumu admires about you), you take a seat on the floor as he shimmies a fresh shirt over his head, “how ya feeling?”

“we just lost. how do ya think i’m feelin?”

you’re glad he has a shirt over his head because then he would have definitely saw you eyeing his lean figure. realizing you need to respond, you rid yourself of those thoughts again, “jeez, it was just a question...” 

rolling your eyes, you hear him sigh as he rakes through his hair to fix up his messy tassels, “i— there was a lota shit on the line for this game.” you hum allowing him to continue. 

“kita gave us this speech thing after headin back to the changing room and it really had me thinkin. he wants to be proud of us, but how can he be when his underclassmen lost to a bunch of newbies,” in the middle of his monologue, he lazily throws himself on the floor.

with his arms wide open and legs stretched out like a starfish, you take it as an invite to embrace him. you settle yourself onto your side to face him on the floor as atsumu continues. 

“this was the 3rd years last game, just wanted to make it a good one but ya saw how that went,” his brown hues never break from the ceiling. it’s not that he doesn’t want to look at you, in fact, he’d probably enjoy tracing all the small detail of your face than the ceiling’s but he just can’t rip his attention away from the bland wall.

he’s really deep in it, you mentally note. the last time you had saw the setter so stressed out and uncertain was when osamu came up and told him that he was loosing interest in volleyball. it was a heartbreaking feeling for him (you knew this because he didn’t lay off of it for nearly 8 months). 

you eye the rambling setter at your side once more. he’s lips are pressed into a deep frown and his eyes don’t shine like usual when he’s with you. thoughtlessly, his fingers tap to a random beat on the tiles all while critiquing every little thing he did wrong in the game. 

it was upsetting hearing him underestimate himself like that. you’ve been with him through most of his volleyball life, and you don’t plan on leaving when he, most definitely, goes pro. 

he’s in the middle of another speech when you’re body moves without thinking. just like when you shouted down at him when he was thanking the crowd. there is just something about seeing the one person you love tear themselves down right in front of you that hurts. 

best friend or not, you figured that making an exception tonight was okay. you wanted to make him happy and in your head it made sense. game after game, he’d ask for a good luck kiss and game after game, you would reject him. it never stopped him from asking though which was baffling to you.

it became a sort of tradition to reject him at this point, even having no shame in front of his teammates too. but this was different, this was more than just a good luck kiss, you wanted to see him again the teasing, stubborn miya atsumu you’ve grown to fall in love with.

so as he rambled, you leaned into his figure. he didn’t even flinch. hell, he didn’t even notice how close your lips were to his. he was so focused on ripping his plays down piece by piece. it wasn’t until your hot breath fanned over his skin that his words faltered.

finally turning towards you, his eyes widen a bit before narrowing them down at your lips, “what are you doing?” his words come out as a small whisper. 

you have no idea how to respond because in all honesty, you don’t know what you’re doing. all you do know is that, with how close you are you can trace every detail of his face from his slender nose to his round eyes. all you do know is that hearing him disgrace his skills makes your chest ache.

all you do know is that despite miya atsumu being your best friend, you want to kiss him more than anything right now.

“i’m gonna kiss you...” is what you say and exactly that is what you do. 

your lips pucker into a soft kiss, finally closing the gap between the two of you. you turned your head to the side, leaning in to deepening the kiss. without hesitation, atsumu is sitting up, gently guiding your figure over to his lap. 

you don’t break away from the kiss as you gladly find purchase straddling his hips. all your senses are overtaken by him. your eyes flutter close but even in the darkness, all you can make out is his beaming smile, all you can hear is his melodious giggles, all you breath in is his sea foam cologne.

you can feel his large hands resting on your hips, pulling you closer every time you even think about pulling away. at one point, it becomes too much. the flame ignited on your skin gets too hot and you need to breath in more than just sea foam smoke.

humming into his mouth, atsumu takes it as a sign to part. breathing hard, you can’t help but to rake your eyes over his swollen lips and how his uneven breathing matches yours. the sight of a disheveled atsumu sends a pang of pride to you heart. 

panting for air, you smile at the boy in front of you lightheartedly reaching out to play with his blonde locks. a comfortable silence blankets the two of you as you focus on evening out your breathing.

in the middle of your gulps of air, you can’t help but let out a laugh, “how’s that for a good luck kiss?”

taking this opportunity, he rubs his nose against your cheek, impatiently waiting for you to give him the go ahead for another. he’s enjoying how your scent takes over him as he smirks, “i wouldn’t know... mind if we try it again?”

[djarinvibe]

Shooting Stars (Din Djarin x F!Reader) Pt. 1

A/N: Okay it’s finally here! I’m so excited for this fic, I’m also excited for y’all to read this fic.

Warnings: MODERN!AU, none

Words: 2.2K

Summary: A new professor has been hired at your work seemingly out of the blue.

Master List

September

Dust-filled rays of golden hues shone brightly throughout the large teachers lounge as you sat there, sipping your morning coffee. The room was empty, save for your sitting figure. You typically got to work early, liking the quietness of the space before the other professors and staff would arrive. It gave you time to wake up, as well as prep for the upcoming day. You would do it in your classroom, however, you shared it with the night school teacher and she doesn't leave until it’s time for your first class of the day.

The school you teach at is a community college, but only a two year institution. It’s quite small, one of the smallest in the state, due to how lowly populated the surrounding cities are. You enjoy it, it gives you a chance to form personal relationships easier. Plus the simpleness of a small town has always intrigued you. 

You moved to the low-populated city shortly after graduating and getting your bachelors degree just seven years ago. You got your job as the Film and Literature professor for both grades shortly after and wouldn’t change it for the world, having taught here for six years now. You love your students, and the curriculum, and you’ve also made friends with the other long-time staff. 

The school year just started, actually. You're only two weeks into the semester. The beginning of the year always had a bit of magic to it. Students actually want to be here and teachers aren't so crabby. There's a collective togetherness felt across the whole campus for the first month or so, it's the highlight of the year.

“Here again early?” The voice of your colleague startled you, prompting you to spill some coffee over the papers you’d been grading.

“Shit,” You muttered, quickly trying to dab away the liquid, “Uh, yeah, I always do.” You chuckled, shrugging away the situation. You looked up to see who’d entered the room and smiled, noting it was one of your close work friends, Omera. The woman has worked here for almost as long as you, having started two years after. She isn't a teacher, instead she works in the office as a secretary. Omera also has a ten year old daughter, and is an amazing single mother. You've met her child, Winta, a few times in the past. You two became friends quickly, finding out you had many things in common.

“I prefer the extra twenty-five minutes of sleep.” She chuckled lightly, padding over to the old coffee machine. You always made sure to brew a full pot, as you were usually the first person to make any. You nodded towards her with a quieted snort, rolling your eyes, before looking back down at the work in front of you.

“Oh, did you hear? Dean Karga hired a new Astronomy teacher.” She smirked, pouring the coffee into a cup as she leaned against the cabinets. “I got a peek of him after his interview,” She paused to throw away the stir stick and trot over, sitting at the small table to join you, “And he’s cute.”

“I didn’t hear,” You raised your brow, “We’re two weeks into the year, why hire him late? Is he new in town?” Your curiosity peaked as you gawked at the woman for answers. 

“I don’t know.” Omera shrugged, taking a sip of the hot liquid, “Could be. But anyways, the Dean is going to introduce him during the morning meeting.” 

“Oh maker, I remember when he did that with me.” You chuckled, shaking your head. Every new member of staff got introduced to the others by the Dean. Greef tries to be a comedian during, but it always ends up being an awkward stand up set with no laughter and scoffs of pity. 

“I guess we’ll see what happens.” Omera smirked, “Oh, and I heard he’s single.” She added with a tap to your arm. The woman knows that you haven't dated in a while; you just haven't been trying. 

“Oh, I don't know…” You trailed off, shaking your head. You didn't have time to think about that. You had more pressing things to worry about like your job, and...

“Just see how it plays out.” The secretary pleaded softly, prompting you to finally cave. She gave a small cheer of delight, her excitement rolling off her thin figure in waves.

-

It took another half an hour before most of the staff finally arrived, just in time. The morning meetings always took place twenty minutes before the starting bell, leaving enough room to cover current topics and get to your classroom.

With the teachers lounge packed as tightly as could be, the Dean finally stepped into the space. Following behind him was, who you could only assume, the new Professor. You didn’t catch a great glimpse, as someone partially blocked your vision, but from what you saw you were intrigued.

“Alright, alright everyone.” Dean Karga’s voice dispelled the murmurs of the room, making it deafeningly quiet. The only sound you could hear was the chattering of students walking the halls outside. You glanced at Omera beside you, her eyes fixated on the new teacher next to the Dean. Scooting slightly until your view wasn't blocked, the mysterious man finally came into view.

You couldn't stop the butterflies from fluttering in your belly, the man in your vision causing them. The Dean’s words melted away, your head becoming fuzzy as you looked at the new teacher. He was handsome, to say the least. He donned a brunette mop of loose, curly hair, and stubble to match. He was broad, the light gray suit he donned only making him look more so. He stood with his hands on his hips, gaze scanning the room when he unsuspectedly locked sight with your own.

Time froze for a moment as his dark eyes peered, your heart gaining speed and your breath catching in unison. Though looking at each other in a crowded room, you felt as though you were the only two. You could've sworn he gave you a gentle nod and a grin, but it felt hazy.

When you finally blinked and looked down, you noted how warm your cheeks had gotten. You felt flustered, the hot rush of adrenaline coursing through your veins and warming up your cold hands. You kept your gaze on the floor ahead of you, trying to steady your racing heart. It was silly to be so flustered over a look, but you haven't experienced that in years.

“And this is our new Astronomy Professor, Din Djarin,” Karga’s words floated back in and you furrowed your brow, trying desperately to ignore the man beside him. The crowd murmured greetings towards the man in the light gray suit, and you felt Omera’s elbow poke your side. Looking towards her, she held a smug expression only fueling the heat in your cheeks. 

“Okay, first period is about to start. Better get you all to class.” The Dean’s voice echoed, and the room erupted with chatter as the herds began to clear out. You, flustered, grabbed your stack of papers and bag, ducking your head to exit silently. Getting to the safety of your classroom was all you cared about. 

--

The day surprisingly flew by, despite the whole meeting fiasco earlier that morning. Getting into the groove of class always caused the days to drift by without a blink. Plus, you tried to make the curriculum as engaging as possible to keep both you and your students interested.

After dismissing your last period of the day, you remained in the room working on the papers from the morning. The afternoon sunlight barred against the windows and lit the room brilliantly. That's one reason you loved your classroom; no matter the season, you always got sun. Plus, you’d hung several plants by the windows three years ago much to Dean Karga’s dismay. But it made the space feel less like a prison cell with its painted white brick walls and cold, tile floors.

A knock on the door filled the silence of the space, startling you slightly. After letting out a chuckle at your scare, you yelled for whomever to enter, knowing sometimes students will leave something behind. However, when the door clicked open and you looked up, your breath caught. 

“Hi,” The new professor's low voice echoed in the silence as he stepped into the room, closing the door behind. You cleared your throat, standing up from your desk and subconsciously straightening the fabric of your clothes. 

“H-Hi, you must be…?” You stuttered out the sentence, walking to the edge of your desk and leaning against the surface for support. Of course you know him, but you’d feel impolite not asking. The man trotted into your room til he stood only a few feet in front of you.

“Oh, uh Din, Din Djarin.” He spoke, sticking out a hand for you to shake. Complying, your much smaller hand became engulfed by his own as the two of you greeted the other. You were quick to introduce yourself, managing not to stutter as you spoke this time. The man repeated your name, the sound of it rolling off his lips like velvet. 

“Is there a reason you stopped by?” You questioned, nervously playing with the hem of your shirt. His head tilted in question before he realized what you'd asked.

“Oh, Yes, I was just making a point to introduce myself to the staff personally. The Dean put on quite a show.” Din commented, shaking his head. You don't remember a thing about what Dean Karga had said during the whole meeting, only the vivid eye contact between you and the man in front of you, but you chuckled at his claim nonetheless. 

“Well, it’s nice to meet you.” You smiled softly, studying the man's face. You couldn't help but notice a few minor scars across his warm skin, one tainting the bridge of his curved nose and another along his cheekbone. There was even a small one hiding on his chin, just showing from behind his stubble. 

It made you curious as to how an Astronomy Professor could get such things. Then again, people get scars in all types of weird ways. For example, you have a scar along your thigh that you got from a bike accident involving a hill and your chain catching. You were thirteen at the time.

“What do you teach?” The man questioned, his eyes looking around the room, no doubt trying to guess. The night teacher you shared the space with had put up some decor, but for the most part, the walls were bare of any guidance; aside from the several plants hanging by the window.

“Film and Literature. Have been for...” You paused to do the mental math, “Six years.”

“That’s a long time.” Din observed, nodding his head. You agreed with a slight chuckle, looking away and biting your lip. The man's eyes studied your face as you gazed elsewhere, enamored by your delicate features. Seeing you from across the teachers lounge had been burning in his mind all day. In fact, he had started going room to room for ‘introductions’ just to find you; It only took him seven classrooms.

“Well, I love it,” You shrugged, a smile taking over your face, “And what do you teach?” You finally looked back up at the man, your eyes greeting once again. The intimate contact caused such an anxious stir in your belly, but a welcomed stir. 

“Astronomy.” He responded with a nod, putting his hands onto his hips.

“A spaceman huh?” You questioned with a laugh, “I suck at science… hence why I am an Film and Literature teacher.” You gestured to the empty desked room. The man just chuckled along before you two fell into silence again. It didn't feel nearly as uncomfortable as before, your tension slowly melting away.

You haven't felt this way around someone for a long time. At least not since your college boyfriend over seven years ago, you dated for two years before you graduated and moved. You haven't really made an effort to since, not for any reason in particular, mostly just because you haven't found someone who made you feel special. Plus, it’s a small area and most of the men weren't available

“Well, I should let you get back to work.” Din spoke after a moment of wordless stares. His sentence was slow and hesitant, almost like he didn't want to leave.

“Oh yeah, I nearly forgot.” You stood up from leaning against your desk and chuckled, looking to the stack of papers on the surface.

The two of you began a slow pace towards the door, heads cast to the floor in shyness. Your sets of footsteps sounded against the tiled floor, filling the empty silence with an echoed click. When you reached the door, the man turned on his heels, nearly bumping into you.

“I'm in room 302 If you'd ever like to stop by?” The man’s statement was more spoken like a hopeful question.

“Okay, I’ll be sure to.” You bit your lip before giving him a gleeful smile, nodding your head. The man perked up at your response, giving you one last goodbye before stepping out of the room.

------------------------

I know there are a few people who want to be tagged, but i lost your @’s! Please send an ask if you want to be added to the Shooting Stars tag list!

[kimnjss]

groupie love | jhs

⤑  series: groupie love

⤑ genre: angst, rapper!hoseok x youtuber!reader, idol au.

⤑ rating: pg13.

⤑ word count: 3.1K

⤑ warnings: unresolved problems with a very simple solution.

⤑ A/N: first, hi :( you guuys, there’s only one more update left until the end of this! (this was a mini series, idk if i said that) but oomg, i can’t believe it! im also a tad bit female sick (monthly) so my brain has been all over the place, so real sorry if this chapter follows that example :/ - either way, let me know what you think!! x

A full week had passed since you last spoke to Hoseok. To be completely honest, you had stopped being upset with him... all it really took was for Jimin to make you realize that you were being a tad bit irrational and should've given him a chance to speak. You couldn't see that at the moment, too wrapped in the thought of him leaving for six months right when things were starting to get good between the two of you.

 A relationship barely started and now you were going to put it to the long-distance test? A test that many couples... who have been together longer than the two of you have, did not survive. No matter how much fun he thought it would be, going along with him wasn't an option either.

 Joining him on tour meant abandoning your responsibilities here to trail behind some guy so he could achieve his dream. The fact that he even asked you to do something like that put a sour taste in your mouth... until you were quickly realizing that wasn't his intention at all.

 In realizing that you were quickly seeing that you didn't know him as much as you thought you did. Relationship still so new, there were many things that were left in the dark when it came to each other's personalities and thought processes. So whisking off behind him on a tour... for six months... when you barely knew him?? definitely off the table.

 Long-distance would have been your best bet because there was no way you were going to throw away the whole relationship. Hoseok was different from the other guys that approached you. He saw you in ways you had never imagined and made you feel comfortable being yourself... no way were you going to just give that up. You two haven't even got to the good part yet.

 So, yeah you weren't mad at him anymore... stopped being mad at him literally a few hours after hanging up the call. Why then did a whole week pass since the two of you had last spoken? You had expected him to call you back after you cut the call short, he didn't. And at the moment you didn't want him to.

 But when the anger was disappearing, you were kinda hoping he'd fall into the chase. Give you a call and try to calm you – not as you needed it. Good thing too, because it never came. Chopping it up to him being busy, you went to bed... hoping to wake up to a missed something from him. And when morning came, the only thing lighting up your screen were emails from past subscriptions you always ignored.

 The entire day passed without contact and you hoped that maybe in this hour he would message you, call you... check-in to see if you were alright!? Nothing, absolutely nothing and you felt like you were going insane checking your phone every fifteen minutes.

 Why not just contact him, right? That would be so much easier and save a bit of your sanity, but that's not how it was supposed to work. You were the one that was upset, therefore, he had to contact you and apologize that way you could tell him that it was okay and everything could go back to normal. That was how it should work, right? Right!?

 Wrong.

 To pile on to your many mistakes in the past seven days, you kept your dry phone stress from Jimin. Not intentionally, entirely... he was busy too (mostly with Yoongi) and it didn't really slide into conversation well. If you had told him sooner, he would've been able to explain to you why your theory was crazy and you should probably just call the man instead of waiting around for him to make the first move.

 It wasn't until you two were hanging out and he was able to notice your frantic glance each time your phone lit up. “He probably thinks you need space,” Jimin told you, the idea never dawning on you... was Hoseok waiting for you to call him? Checking his phone every fifteen minutes as you had been? Because he thought it was you that was supposed to make the call?

 So you called him, that night after Jimin was leaving. Hummed along to the dial tone as you waited to hear his soft voice on the other line. “Why are you calling?” It wasn't him, your heart sinking into the pits of your stomach at the sound of the woman's voice on the other line.

 Maybe, he wasn't waiting for your call... maybe he had followed your anger charged advice to find a different groupie to take on tour with him. Maybe you didn't mean anything to him at all.

 “Hello?” The woman repeated, growing impatient with your silence. Half a mind to hang up the phone and never talk to him again, but you needed answers. Needed to know who this lady was but refused to hear it from anyone but him.

 “I need to talk to Hoseok,” You replied plainly.

 “Obviously, this is his phone. What do you need?” Wow, this woman was rude. Did Hobi know that she was so sour? Surely, he couldn't be interested in someone with such a d-list personality, it didn't match his happy.

 “Excuse me, but I-,” Your words were being cut off by the words overlapping yours, a breathless Joon speaking into the phone. “Yn!?” Namjoon was there too!? What? And breathless? Were they... all three of them!? “Where's Hoseok?” Ignoring the surprise in his tone when he first answered the tone. Your patience was wearing thin.

 “Studio, he left his phone in the practice room. I'm walking there right now.” He let out a huff of breath and you heard some shuffling on the other end. “So... where you been? Haven't heard from you for a while,”

 Maybe he was waiting for you to contact him first. If he hadn't been, surely his best friend wouldn't be asking you where you've been... right? “Yeah...” You reply lamely not knowing what else to say. Not really feeling like you owe Joon much of an explanation, especially if your boyfriend hadn't even received on yet.

 There's more shuffling, a murmured conversation being had away from the phone so you can barely make out what they're saying – but you don't doubt that they're talking about you. A minute passes before the phone is being handed off and you're finally hearing Hoseok's voice.

 “Hey,” He did not sound happy to hear from you. “You good?”

 A little caught off guard you spare a moment to think over what he's asking you. Were you good? Had you been 'good' at all this week? Was it possible that you were so not good without hearing from him that just the sound of his voice instantly had-

 “If you're good then...” He's trailing off, obviously impatient with your silence. Wouldn't be the first one today. It was like you couldn't find the right words, only now realizing that this was all your fault and you had no idea how to fix it.

 “No, wait,” Your words are rushed with the fear that he's going to hang up the phone any second. “I...I should've called you. Like before now. But, I want to talk? Is it alright if we meet up to talk?” Maybe if you were able to see him in person, it would be easier to explain yourself... you always felt at ease when you were with him.

 “I'm a bit busy right now but-,”

 “Oh, right! Yeah, you probably have a whole bunch of things to do... I guess, then-” A laugh was slipping through his lips, a sound you had no idea you missed so much until this moment.

 “-But, we can meet up tonight. I'll be done around here at like nine.” So sure he had decided that he didn't want to talk and was using being busy as an excuse... you really had to stop interrupting people. Something to work on. Your heart was fluttering though, at the thought of seeing him again. Being able to touch him, kiss him, talk to him, and see that bright smile on his face.

 If you were able to make him smile... you had a lot of things to work through, but you were hopeful. “Okay, yeah. Tonight works, that's good.”

 “Great, I gotta go... working, you know? But I'll stop by tonight.” You're agreeing, saying goodbye quickly before ending the call.

 Not as horrible as you thought, you were going to get to see him and everything was going to work out. With a quick glance at the time, you were just now realizing that nine was only a few hours away. The need to speed clean your house, getting rid of the evidence of a week worth of moping as quickly as you can.

 You tried to think of all you wanted to say as you cleaned, no idea where to even start... all you knew was you missed him and couldn't wait to see him again.

 You tried to act natural, not put as much weight on seeing Hoseok again as you normally would. Wanted to act like you weren't nervous for his reaction, scared to tell him that you were sorry and the reason why... how childish he might think you after explaining you had ghosted him because you had been waiting for him to contact you first.

 Even despite you wanting to keep your cool, that didn't stop you for getting ready for his arrival as if you were about to be whisked away on some magic date night. After a quick cleaning of your house, you spent the rest of the time waiting for him making sure that you looked good for him.

 You had done your makeup the way you knew he liked, wore something that you were positive would grasp his attention. Your hair was even done to his liking, noting how he preferred when you wore it down more than anything. All of this, done in hopes that he'd be so mesmerized by you that he'd forget how stupid you've been acting for the past seven days. One could only hope.

 It wasn't until there was a sharp knock at your front door that you were putting the finishing touches on your look. Might've even stayed in the mirror longer if it wasn't for him showing up at exactly 9:18.

 With a deep breath, you're making your way to the front door. Hoseok stands on the other side, hands shoved in his pockets and teeth nibbling at his lower lip. Just seeing him and all you want to do is wrap your arms around him and pull him close, not realizing how much you had missed him until this moment.

 His eyes are on you the moment you're pulling the door open, a small smile spreading on his lips. “Hi,” His voice is soft and you return his greeting before moving to let him in. He turns to watch you push the door closed and you feel the awkwardness begins to settle in your chest.

 Were you supposed to talk first? Get out an apology before the time rattled on. How were you even supposed to start this? You knew exactly what you wanted to apologize for, wasting the little time the two of you had left with your petty thoughts. How were you to come out and say it, though? It was like the words were stuck in your throat.

 “Look, so... before you say anything,” His voice was breaking you from your thoughts, eyes lifting to look in his direction. He looked nervous like the roles had been reversed. “I wanted to apologize to you... I wasn't thinking when I asked you to come along with me, you know? I just thought it would be fun, but obviously, I offended you with the offer... so I'm sorry,”

 He was apologizing? He felt bad? There was nothing that he needed to apologize for and there he was because you had been too busy with your inner monologue to get on with your apology. Now you had this boy standing in front of you looking sheepish for no reason at all.

 You had to fix this.

 “No, you don't have to apologize, honestly. It bugged me at the moment, but only because I didn't properly think it over. I know why you asked... and I should've thought more about it instead of blowing up on you like that,” You took careful steps in his direction, taking your time with closing the space between the two of you.

 There was confusion riddled in his features as if he couldn't understand why you were the one that needed to say sorry. He had been so focused on how he had made you felt, he didn't even take the time to think that you might've been in the wrong. The blame game wasn't something he liked to play.

 “I'm also sorry for the way I ghosted you... I was ready to talk to you the day we got off of the phone but I had been waiting for you to contact me first... I know it's stupid, but I just felt like you should've? Since I was the one mad at you... I wanted you to check,” It sounded even more stupid when you were saying it out loud.

 Embarrassed tinted your cheeks pink, but Hoseok didn't seem to notice. Even if he had, he was ignoring it. “You wanted me to call you?” You nodded, avoiding his gaze. No doubt he was pinning you with the same furrowed brow look Jimin had given you when you first told him.

 You're caught off by the laugh that leaves his lips. Gaze lifting to find him shaking his head, shoulders shaking as he lets out laughs. Now it's your turn to look confused, face contorted as you stare at him. “What's funny?” You're asking as he takes deep breaths to calm his laughter.

 “I just... I had been waiting for you to call me. Wanted to give you space or whatever and figured you'd call when you weren't mad anymore... you weren't even mad to begin with, though? That's hilarious to me.” You didn't get it, but he was smiling that pretty smile of his so you had no choice but to agree. His laughter is slowly dying down and he's looking at you, reaching out to grasp your hand. “Come here,”

 Hoseok easily pulls you into his chest, arms wrapping around you in a warm hug. He tried to ignore it, but in the week that he couldn't see you – he had realized how much you started to mean to him. Simple things like holding you close, he was yearning for and not much could make up for it.

 “This fight was stupid,” He's declaring, leaning back so he could get a good look at your face. His hand lifts to push the hair from your forehead, pressing his lips against it afterward. “I'm leaving soon... we shouldn't waste time like this,”

 Arms lifting to wrap around his waist, you're nodding your head, cheek resting against his chest. “God, I missed you so much...” He's trailing off, fingers toying with the ends of your hair.

 You had missed him too, and you tell him. Not being able to mask the sadness in your voice. A whole week passed without seeing each other and you were like this. Would you be able to survive six whole months without him? It hadn't even been long, but he had become such a big part of your life.

 “I think I'm gonna miss you too much when you leave...” He's pulling back at the sound of your words, nodding his head as his hand cradle your face. Hoseok stands there looking at you for a while, taking in your sad eyes and tiny pout. The look squeezing his heart but only making him that much more determined to make things work for you.

 “Be my girlfriend,” The words tumble from his lips so smoothly, you're not even sure you hear him right. He's continuing before you have a chance to answer. “I like you a lot, Yn. And I know the next six months are going to be hard... but I think they might be a little easier if I know I have my girlfriend waiting up for me, don't you think?” He's smiling big and you're sure yours matches his.

 Girlfriend. Not fuck buddy. Sidepiece. Groupie. Hoseok's girlfriend. Which came with so much more. Pushed all your insecurities away, solidified things. Just a label, but it came with such security, something that you had no idea you needed so much until you were entering this situation-ship with this man.

 “I'd love to be your girlfriend,” You were grinning hard now, it is covered by his soft lips. His large hands slipping into your hand, tangling in the loose strands as he held your lips to his. Kissing you softly and slowly, as if you two had all the time in the world to enjoy each other.

 You really wished you did.

 He's pulling away all too quickly, but not before leaning down once more to press a gentle peck to your lips. “Things are going to be really hectic these past few days... but we'll make it work.” He sounded hopeful, you were too. “And I cleared my schedule for tomorrow... might set us back, but I wanted to spend the night with you.”

 Despite having zero knowledge of how this conversation would go, Hoseok held a lot of faith in you... in your blossoming relationship. Felt like things would work out for you if the two of you made sure to work together on things. It would be a bit of a learning process for you, he could tell but he was willing to work at it with you.

 “I'd really like that,” You say, leaning up on your toes to press your lips back onto his. Ready to make the most of tonight, no matter what you did. Just wanted to be with him and make up for lost time.

 Stock up on all the smiles, the hugs, the kisses that you could because in a few weeks. Your six-month challenge would be starting, you needed to memorize what his lips felt like while you still could. Ready to cherish every moment until he was getting on that plane.

– he’s ½ of the famous rap duo, the 94′s. when stumbling upon a pretty youtuber, he’s quick to decide he wants to have her. but one night with her just doesn’t seem like enough.

⬿ masterlist ⤳

taglist: @randomkoalablog @smoljams @dee-ehn @angjeon @moarmynation @diminieshoe @butterflylion @withlovestudyblr @uxwi @hazefilter @honeyoongles @flantasticpr @ratking101 @jinhitwhore @thisistrashperson @hehehehahahohohuhu @jaiuneamesolitaiire @hellotherehoneybee @bangtansonyeondayyyum @okaysoplshelpme @rather-not-sayy @betysotelo18​ @bluefaeriefury @tae165 @kookiesjoonies @bangtansbun​ @koostime​ @justastupidnick​ @ashleyjoyx​ @kooinluv​ @alpaca1612​ @sw33tnight​ @taefect94​ @houseofarmanto​ @flantasticpr​ @amoreguk​ @kim-ji-hyeons-world​ @mochibabycakes @beeeb05 @tommasauras @diorhobii @kimsouthjoon @korkanswers @samros95 @soulstaes @masterpiecejoonie @melonmochi @aizuwusho @marifujioka @elliemeetsevil @thesunisup-theskyisblue @thecityrain​ @alterlovess @leovaldezisfire @pastelpinksunflower​ @xctvme​ @itsrapmonstanotdancemonsta​

A/N: timestamps are important throughout the fic!! if you want to be added to the taglist, send me an ask! also if you asked to be on the taglist and aren’t on there, it’s because tumblr sometimes doesn’t let me tag ppl for some reason.

[lofitojii]

Part [II] Guardian Angel

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Summary: You are a new sidekick to the number two hero of Tokyo, Hawks. You team up with another sidekick, Bakugou, in an ongoing investigation on a serial killer. Unexpected interactions happen that flip the whole case around causing new, confusing feelings which alter your relationships in ways you never saw coming.

Word Count: 4.6k

Warning: Minor Swearing 

Guardian Angel Master List

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[ tag list: @criminal-strawberry @underratedmage ]

“Kid? Where are you? Are you okay?” You heard Hawks come in through the ear piece. You were desperately trying to keep up with Bakugou who was blasting from roof to roof, keeping a drastic distance between the two of you. You wanted to fly after him but you thought that if you let the distance grow and just let him get there the way he wanted, it would lead to receiving information from him. It was a long shot but at this point, you didn’t really know what to try. It was clear he wasn’t going to talk to you until you got back to the agency. 

“I’m fine. We’re almost back to the agency,” you replied, trying not to scream into the ear piece as your pace increased. Bakugou made it there before you, standing outside the front doors waiting for your arrival. You were surprised to say the least, thinking that he would’ve rushed off inside to tell Hawks what happened, but he just stood there. 

“Finally. Thought those wings made you faster,” Bakugou joked, leading the two of you through the doors. 

“Ha-ha, very funny,” you returned, scowling at Bakugou who seemed pretty pleased with his little joke. 

You and Bakugou stood in the elevator, letting the silence linger to the point where it became awkward and frustrating for you. You couldn’t hold it in anymore. “Who’s Dabi? Why are you choosing to leave me in the dark about this?” Bakugou didn’t look over, didn’t move, flinch, react in any way. He was just silent. You were trying your best to not get worked up over the situation but it was rather infuriating that your own team mate was withholding information from you. 

Bakugou let out a say, mumbling slurs of frustration under his breath. “Dammit. Hawks has history with Dabi, that’s why this is so big. Now if you’ll stop talking to me and just let Hawks fucking tell you? Okay?” Your cheeks flushed red, your whole attitude becoming rather embarrassed over anything.

“Should’ve just told me that in the beginning,” you muttered in a low tone, crossing your arms over your chest, trying your best to choke but the unwanted and unneeded tears of embarrassment. You were just very emotional, your feelings being the weakest part of you. Anything and everything made you cry, and normally you were okay with that. You never had an issue with expressing yourself, you just never understood timing which always tends to heighten your emotions. 

You walked into Hawks’ empty office, assuming he was just running behind. This was the second time you’ve shown up before him. “Better than me by a slight hair, it seems.” You looked over your shoulder, seeing Hawks approach his desk from the front doors. “Okay first, Y/N, I hear you encountered the suspect? Is that right?” 

“Yes sir,” you replied. 

“Well? Spit it out kid!” 

“Bakugou had mentioned that he saw him near me when I was patrolling street view. It was hard to see through the crowds of people without bringing all the attention towards me and I ended up bumping into him. He knows my hero name and I played dumb when he said I reminded him of you.” You were nervous that this was going to lead into you getting into trouble on your first day. You really didn’t want to upset your new boss, nor did you want to disappoint your teammates. “His name is Dabi.” 

“Fucking… Bastard,” Hawks growled, slamming his fist onto his desk. “You’re okay though, right? He didn’t hurt you, did he?” He nervously lifted his palm to his cheek, rubbing his scruff as he tried to scramble is unwarenting thoughts.

“I was watching from above the entire time and he helped her up. I couldn’t hear anything but I would’ve jumped in if she was in danger.” Bakugou added in what he saw, your heart fluttering at the thought of Bakugou jumping in to help you. And no, it’s not because of any sort of weird unsaid feelings you have for him, but because this whole time it seemed as if he hated you. 

“Hawks?” You asked, trying to keep calm while controlling your emotions all at once. “Who’s Dabi?” 

“An old friend.” 

“What is up with you boys and being so damn dramatic? What good is keeping secrets?” You finally lost it, upset about the fact you had to pry more from both of the men in front of you. “We’re fucking partners here. I am in this case too. Why are we side stepping around the main suspect like it’s some drastic back story? He’s alive, right? He matches the description, right?” You were annoyed at the fact you had to get literal with the people you worked with but you understood why they wouldn’t say anything. Emotions and feelings are what hold us down as humans, our personal anchor keeping us grounded under water. “I’m sorry if this is harder than it seems but people are dying here guys and if it happens to not be this guy, he knows SOMETHING about what’s going on. So now, who is Dabi and why is everyone being so quiet about him?” 

Hawks let out a deep sigh, exchanging looks with Bakugou before finally making eye contact with you. “You’re right, you’re right.” It was obvious that this was a heavy subject for Hawks, seeing it cause resurfacing pain. You didn’t need him to tell you how he felt about it because you could feel it, your own emotions mimicking the lingering feeling that was swarming around the open office. “About 7 years ago, a little bit before I ended up starting this agency, Dabi and I were.. Uh well we were close. Like best friends close. I was raised by these guys who were only told to train me like a hero from when I was a young age so when I met Dabi, it was exciting and new. He was there to receive ‘treatment’ whatever that meant and over time…. Well he’s not the same Dabi I knew before. He escaped the facility after lighting half of it on fire and ever since then, I haven’t crossed paths with him again.”

“So then what does he have to do with this case? What, he disappears for 7 years and comes back with a set plan or murders to get your attention?” The story was confusing to you and you knew there was more than what Hawks was telling you. The question was whether to pry or to wait for him to feel comfortable enough to tell you himself. 

“You came in contact with him,” he pointed out. “You tell me.” You knew what he meant, putting together the conversation you had with Dabi prior to knowing the history. You knew this was rooted deeper than what was being placed in front of you. When Dabi had mentioned Hawks, you assumed it was because of the wings, when in reality it was something completely different. What is Dabi trying to play here? Your thoughts were swarming with multiple possibilities as to what he was trying to do and you knew you couldn’t rely on two closed off men with little examples on how to share and express how they’re feeling tell you what’s going on, you knew you had to do it yourself. 

The room went silent, lingering with the tension that was building up within Hawks and Bakugou. They all had history, Bakugou keeping his side a secret, knowing you would half to pry it out of him sooner than later. For the time being, you had come up with an idea that you knew would be risky, but it was worth the effort to let them know. “I have an idea and before I tell you, I need you to know that whatever happens, I’ll be okay.” 

“You’re fucking crazy,” Bakugou cursed, Hawks still confused at what you were talking about. 

“I can go undercover. We don’t have anything stated that I’m linked to you yet. If I go undercover, I can find out more about this situation. Plus, if Bakugou and another one of the sidekicks team up with me, I’ll have back up if it gets too dangerous.”

“No way,” Hawks rejected. “There is no way in hell I’m going to let you interact with the demon again.” 

“Hawks please,” you pleaded, trying your best to explain the situation in a way he would understand. “I know he’s dangerous but…. I don’t know. I have a feeling that there’s more to this than what we’re thinking and if I can get an inside look-”

“No Y/n, he’s way too dangerous. I can’t let you put your life on the line like that. Not before you get a chance to show people what you’re made of.” 

“This is what heroes do,” you responded immediately, clenching your fists as you started your statement. “If going undercover means putting my life on the line, then okay, that’s why I became a hero. Everyday, we’re put in situations that could potentially get us killed but we were trained for this. That’s why we put ourselves out there. I will not claim the title of hero if I don’t put my own life on the line for those who might lose theirs. Please Hawks…” The worry in his eyes made you uneasy but you weren’t ready to back down. You knew what you had to do in order to help stop innocent people from dying. 

Hawks let out a deep sigh, strain completely audible in his tone. He looked up at you, then away, and then back at you again. “Why did you have to pull the hero card? I’m agreeing to this but I have a few conditions: 

1. Bakugou is to keep an eye on you the entire time. He is to be within a reasonable distance so he has enough time to help out if needed. 

2. Tokoyami will be the skyline view, coming in at second backup. And lastly,

3. If he touches you, hurts you, seems to be thinking of doing either of those things, you are to retreat immediately. If you fail to do so, I will have to step in and it will ruin our investigation. 

With all this being said, we will call this ‘Mission Hidden Angel’ and for safety reasons Y/N, you’re going to need to come up with a new hero name.” You saluted your boss, following your action by a bow. 

“Understood.” 

“You’re an idiot,” Bakugou spoke up, getting up from his seated position. 

“Maybe so, but this is the only thing I can think of. We can’t just take him in on assumption. All we know is that he’s the one person who’s consistently been spotted near the crime scenes which makes him a viable suspect. We just need a solid confession and we have our guy.” You placed your hand on Bakugou’s shoulder, giving him a reassuring gentle squeeze. “I’m counting on you.” 

Bakugou’s reaction was something you weren’t expecting. You thought for sure you saw his cheeks flush red but he pulled away, turning his back towards you before making his way out. 

“Whatever.” And with that, he left you alone with Hawks in his open office. You let out a deep breath, rebalancing yourself as you shook off Bakugou’s cold attitude. Hawks motioned for you to sit down, which you agreed to. 

“Are you sure about this Y/N?” Hawks seemed very hesitant about the idea, which you knew before you had even mentioned it. The history he has with this Dabi guy is more than what he had mentioned, you knew that deep within you. You could not be fooled by the light hearted joking or the awkward tension that filled the room when Dabi’s name was mentioned. “He’s dangerous. I mean yes, he’s linked to this case but he has multiple charges he’s facing. Anywhere from arson to a single murder. If we catch him on this, we can put him away for life, but with that, there’s a risk. He’s literally killed before based on emotional reaction.” 

“I know,” you sighed, waving your hand in reply to the comment. “But aren’t all villains dangerous?” 

“Yes but…” Hawks paused, his attention be drawn to the stack of papers on his desk. He shuffled through the stack, slipping out a packet and placing it in front of you. “This is all that I have on him.” 

“Hawks… Come on,” you frowned, flipping through the flimsy stack. “You’re kidding right?” He rolled his eyes, getting up from his spot behind the desk and making his way towards a bookshelf. 

“Nothing gets past you, huh?” He commented, pulling a file out from in between two rather large books. He threw the file in front of you, letting it hit the desk with a rather large thud. “This is my personal research. After he disappeared… I had to know what was going on and why he ran.”

“What was your relationship with him?” It just kind of slipped out like word vomit. You knew it was a long shot asking, but you couldn’t help yourself, you had to know.

Hawks was silent for what felt like forever, the only noise you could hear was the slight buzzing due to the caused silence. “We were friends, best friends actually. We hung out everyday at the facility we were being trained at.” 

“And he ran away before he could explain himself?” You asked, trying to piece the story Hawks was refusing to tell you. 

“He didn’t even say goodbye…” Hawks was in pain, from the loss of a friend and the discovery of a villain. His heart ached for the one person he felt close to way back then. Hawks was quick to recompose himself, sitting back down in his seat. “This is why I agreed for you to go undercover. If it is Dabi, then it’s gotta be more than just him acting out. I’m going to assume there’s an even bigger issue behind this all, Dabi being a puppet.” 

“And what if he’s not?” 

“Well then it’s no longer the Dabi I know.” 

‘Well then it’s no longer the Dabi I know,’ played repeatedly in your head on your way home that night. It had been a rather long day, a lot taking place within the few hours you worked on your first day. You had made quite the impact on the new people you worked with, meaning you had even bigger shoes to fill. You didn’t mind, nor did plan on back down. What you had ahead of you was much greater than what the surface was displaying. 

The way Hawks had talked about Dabi led you to believe that he was being affected by this more than anyone else. You didn’t want to believe that this Dabi guy was evil but as for now, you had to have your guard up. Something about him seemed… How do you put this… He gives off this pleading aura, and that’s what you wanted to find out. What exactly was he looking for? What was his aura trying to tell you? 

You had a hard time sleeping after reading up on Dabi’s file. You had stayed up until the early hours of the morning trying to obtain all the information that you could about this mysterious man you were about to investigate in secret.

“Birth name: Touya Todoroki. CLASSIFIED INFORMATION. Age: 24. Experimental duration before incident: 2 years.” They were trying to enhance his quirk? What the hell kind of experiment is that? “Birth Father: Pro Hero, Endeavor. CLASSIFIED.” The information you were reading made you believe that his own family didn’t know who he was, possibly assuming the death of the child when he was taken in for experiments. The more you read, the more it broke your heart. You could see why Hawks was so upset. You didn’t even know the guy and you felt the pain as if you did. 

You placed the rather large file on your side table, flipping the lights off so you could try to get a little rest before your long day of work the following day. As you drifted off into your REM state, all you could think about was the intense research Hawks did on one guy, knowing he had to go against a few rules to obtain some of the information. You wondered who all knew about this guy? Was it just you and Hawks? Or did your whole team know? 

The following morning, you were told to meet in the 18th floor conference room as soon as you entered the building. You were the first to arrive, being greeted by the rising sun that shined through the glass windows and the smell of brewing coffee that had to be coming from the break room next door. You decided to pop in for a cup yourself, being greeted by a literal man bird who was pouring himself a cup. “Good morning,” you greeted, slightly frightening the man in front of you. 

“Sorry, you scared me there. I didn’t think anyone else was here yet,” he replied, awkwardly laughing off his sudden reaction. “You must be Y/n. It’s nice to meet you, I’m Tokoyami, the other sidekick.” 

“Nice to meet you! Tell me, does Hawks just take likings to us bird people?” Tokoyami laughed, somewhat agreeing with your statement, joking alongside you. Finally, someone who wasn’t arrogant or rude. You let out a sigh of relief as you casually came up with small talk with your new coworker, taking a seat next to him in the conference room. 

Your small chit chat was cut short when Hawks bursted through the door, wearing a completely different hero outfit than yesterday. It was still the black and gold trim top and jogger style pants but this time he had a black coat matching the whole color scheme. Something about this new look made him appear more attractive? 

What the fuck? Y/N that’s your BOSS!

“Thank god you’re here,” Hawks huffed, out of breath like he had just run a marathon. 

“Are you okay? You’re like… extremely out of breath.” 

“I got an email this morning saying the new costumes were ready and I’m really excited to give you yours. Oh you’re going to look so cute!” He seemed to be a little overly excited about this, but you decided to humor him by acting just as excited. 

You pulled the outfit out of the bag he had placed on the table, revealing a whole new design. Black leotard with black leggings, black and gold knee high boots, the coat being solid black with a plaid white design. “They came up with all of this in a day?” You asked in disbelief, admiring the material in front of you. 

“Sure did! Now go change! Here Tokoyami, you got a new one too. We’re all gonna look so bad ass.” 

“Wait…” You confronted Hawks. “If we all match, isn’t that going to throw our investigation?” 

“Go change and come back and we’ll talk about the investigation. It’ll be fine!” He ushered you out of the room, closing the conference room door behind you. You let out a sigh, hoping Hawks had an idea that wouldn’t ruin the whole thing before it even started. Reluctantly, you made your way towards the locker room, changing into the new outfit Hawks had been so very excited about. It was very flattering, hugging your curves in all the right places. The holes in the back were designed to expand with the growth of your wings which you had tested out a few times in the locker room. You expanded them to their full 19 ft length, giving a few light flaps to test the stretch in the coat and shirt which complied greatly to your actions. 

You exited the locker room, being met with Bakugou who was stanced up on the opposite side of the wall. He was also dressed in a new outfit, similar to Hawks’ design, only being trimmed with orange rather than gold. “You look nice,” you commented, Bakugou replying with a grunt. 

“Uh your outfit suits you,” he stuttered, refusing to make eye contact. You felt your cheeks flare at the compliment, being flattered at the fact he complimented you. Bakugou could tell he caused your fluster, immediately reacting by walking back towards the conference room. 

“Hey wait up,” you asked, slightly jogging to keep up with him. “Thanks for waiting for me.” 

“As if,” he huffed. “I was sent to come get you. You’re the only one who wasn’t there.” You walked into the room together, taking your seat next to Tokoyami once again. Hawks covered his mouth, swelling with glee as he took a look at everyone in the room. 

“Wow you guys look so good!” 

“We got it, we got new costumes. Can we get on with the damn meeting already?” Bakugou spat, obviously annoyed by Hawks’ meaningless commentary. 

“Right, sorry mister bossy,” Hawks cleared his throat, taking a seat at the head of the table. There were a few others you had yet to meet that had joined the meeting, assuming they were either sidekicks or pro heroes. “Mission ‘Hidden Angel’ starts today. We are sending Y/n undercover, leaving her to investigate Dabi on her own. He has no idea she is linked to our agency so it’s the best option for us. The key to this mission Y/n is for you to get some sort of confession out of him. The necklaces or keychains I gave you are actually recording devices that will record up to 500 hours worth of time. Y/n is the only one who has come into physical contact with Dabi and it seems like he has taken quite the liking to her. Our job in all of this is to protect her. Your ear pieces are reprogrammed so that way we will be able to hear everything Y/n says and does without having an interference with our communication. Tsukuyomi and Bakugou, you are first responders to Y/n. Mirko and I will be on stand by if we need to make a quick escape.” 

“Okay but the costumes?” Mirko, the rabbit hero, spoke up, asking the question you had been uneasy about the entire meeting. “It’s obvious she works for you if she’s dressed like that.” 

“Heh-heh,” Hawks chuckled, pulling out yet another brown paper bag. “This is your disguise. The plan here is to get you to meet him again outside of your hero outfit.” The meeting was straightforward and to the point. You knew Hawks was going to go in depth with this case, knowing the history he shared with Dabi. You knew this was going to be one of the most important cases in your time, you didn’t want to let him down, knowing it was linked to a very big part of his past. “Alright. We leave after lunch. Please eat something this time guys. I don’t want anyone passing out this time cause they forgot to eat today.” 

You were about to follow the others out of the room when Hawks grabbed your arm, silently pleading for you to stay behind. He waited until the door closed before offering for you to take a seat. “I’m sorry but after I gave you that file…” 

“I haven’t told anyone,” you reassured before he could even ask. “I assumed it was personal information. I’m surprised you let me read it.” 

“You’re about to be involved with an old friend of mine. He’s dangerous, yes, but he has a kind heart. I wanted you to know the Dabi I knew rather than the one I talked about yesterday.” Hawks didn’t have to tell you how he felt, you knew he was blindly trusting you with one of the biggest secrets he has kept hidden for so long. 

You placed your hand on top of Hawks, trying your best of your ability to comfort him. His attention went from your hand to your eyes, a moment of silence filling the surrounding air. “Who are you?” he asked, completely unaware of what he had just said. “I mean.. Like.. Who is Y/n, ya know?” 

“To be honest, I don’t remember a lot before I was placed into foster care. I grew up in the local group home in my hometown, growing out of the system. When I was finally out, it was my chance to really figure out who I was so I took college courses and found out my quirk is a lot stronger than I anticipated it to be so I became a hero.” 

“How are you so caring, though?” You were taken back by the sudden question, unsure of how to approach such a broad question. 

“Um… How do I put this… Growing up, I didn’t have anyone. I wasn’t close to anyone in the home and so when I would go through something hard, I had to take care of myself. Now that I’m older and was forced to figure out who I was at such a young age, I told myself that instead of being angry at the world, I would put that energy into making sure people were okay. I want people to know that at least one person genuinely cares, because I do, I really can’t help it. That’s why I feel the need to know everyone on a personal level. It’s a blessing and curse to be honest.” Hawks hadn’t said anything once you had finished, he just… stared. It wasn’t blank, you could visibly make out how he was feeling. 

“It’s an honor to have someone like you on the team.” His smile was so genuine, so welcoming and warm. This was a new side of Hawks, it was like he was introducing himself to you all over again. “Well,” he said, standing up from his seat. He took a small bow, signaling for the door. “Shall we go, m’lady?” 

“Bout damn time.” Bakugou stood there as the door opened, looking annoyed just like always. “Can we go?” 

“Yes. I have to go change into this disguise really quick.” You waved at Hawks who was yelling in your direction to be safe and good luck with the mission. Bakugou stayed quiet as he escorted you to the locker rooms, waiting in the same spot as you exited. The outfit Hawks had picked out was something that you would’ve picked out yourself. “I think I like this better than my hero costume.” 

“Whatever. Can we go now?” 

“Bakugou?” You asked, noticing the change in his tone. Something was off and you knew he wasn’t going to tell you what it was. You could feel the energy shift around you, intimidated by the side of Bakugou you had yet to encounter. “Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine,” he lightly responded. 

“No you’re not.” 

“Listen,” he turned around, the loss in his temper vigilant. Before you knew it, your back hit the wall, Bakugou towering over you. You could feel his hot breath tickle your cheeks, your anxiety level rising by the little distance he had created between you. “I’m good. I’m fine. I’m doing fan-fucking-tastic. We have a mission that I would like to get over with.” 

“Whatever Bakugou,” you sighed, trying to push him away. He didn’t budge, keeping his dominant stance over you. 

“I have one mission today and that is to keep you safe. If you fuck this up, I’m going to be pissed.” Something about that statement seemed so off to you. Like the way he worded it was different than how he normally communicates with you. 

He released himself from you, making his way back down the hall without saying another word to you. You were frozen in place, trying to piece together what was going through Bakugou’s head. 

“What are you about, Bakugou?”

......

A/N: what do you all think of adding clothing references? this is a test run for it so let me know!!! also, i started a tag list :) dm or comment if you want to be added!

Y/N’s hero outfit // Y/N’s disguise