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koqabear · 10 months

Text

「 Camera Shy 」

♫: Automatic, Red Velvet // Movie Star, CIX // Color Me, JUNNY // Kitty Cat, KISS OF LIFE

“You’ve always tried to live an honest and responsible life; never spending money on anything ridiculous, scoffing at the things other people would be so willing to drop their paycheck on. But when life gets hard, you’re bound to give into your guilty pleasures, right?”

camboy!Beomgyu x fem!reader

Genre: f2l, smut, pw/minimal plot

Word count: 14.4K (there’s like three different smut scenes here)

Warnings: gyu has a thing for glasses idk don’t question me, (mc wears glasses, not necessarily prescription), gyu is lowkey manipulative if u squint, slight possessiveness on his part? nothing toxic (i think), alcohol consumption, gyu has a tattoo..

smut warnings: gyu is a bit of a perv! mean dom!Beomgyu, sub!mc, masturbation (f&m), filmed sex, (consensual), dirty talk, degrading, use of toys (f&m rec.), exhibitionism, voyeurism technically, bit of a voice/hand kink? slight humiliation kink, mentions of safe words & subspace, mentions of squirting lmao, manhandling, spanking, pet names (princess, baby, etc.), fingering, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, marking, dry humping, handcuffing, biting, unprotected sex, dumbification, dacryphilia, creampie (lmk if i should add anything!)

Notes: lemme tell you. i wrote abt the tattoo before i stumbled upon that pic, when i tell you i was just ??? barely proof-read heehee. the thought of this au hit me like a that-so-raven vision, and I literally spent the whole day making sure I could finish this. enjoy bc i love camboy aus sm. (oh and pls, do me a favor and reblog— i have an ominous feeling about what’ll happen to this fic once i post it.)

Beomgyu has always found the idea of his work a bit ridiculous.

Day by day, he’s a normal college student— he spends his early mornings in classes, taking all the morning slots everyone was always reluctant to enroll in before he went off to work; he was known as that cute server amongst the women that visited the restaurant he worked at, able to upsell and gain tips with ease as he quickly became a favorite amongst his coworkers.

He liked the attention— of course he did, he needed to in order to thrive in the field of his actual job, his hours at the restaurant nothing but a side hustle compared to the hundreds he could make of a single stream.

Those hundreds could always breach into the thousands— but those were on especially good days, like his annual Valentine’s Day stream he always held for his lonely, single viewers.

Beomgyu was quite the sweet talker— he got the practice from his day-to-day shifts, watching girls his age and older fawn at his words and flutter their eyes playfully. It was clear they enjoyed the attention just as much as he did, a cute smile on his face as he faked a shy laugh whenever they would compliment him.

Your hair looks really nice today. You smell amazing. Do you work out? You have a really nice voice.

He got that last compliment a lot.

“Do I?” he would purr, a sultry smile crawling on his face each time, like a practiced action as he would tilt his head teasingly— the reaction would be positive each time, without fail, and he would always end up with a collection of napkins with scrawled phone numbers every time he would clock out— his coworkers would poke fun at him every time they watched him dump them all out apathetically.

You weren’t into that one person? Dude, the lady at table seven was so fucking hot.

Beomgyu never really paid mind to their teasing— he could care less for the men and women that tried to butter him up during his shifts, forced to act as though their shameless flirting didn’t make his stomach twist unpleasantly— instead, he would be forced to smile, laughing sheepishly before he would slip away with one last comment.

“I’m flattered, really— but, I have someone I’m interested in.”

That someone was you— the pretty girl that sat across from him during his ten am lecture, finding himself spacing out every time and staring off into your direction; though you never seemed to notice, much too caught up in taking notes as he watched the way your brows would furrow, biting at your lip and adjusting your glasses as you remained focused— whether those glasses were for reading, blue light, prescription, or even decoration, he didn’t care— all he cared about was how unnecessarily attractive you looked in them.

He thought about you more than he liked to admit— it was frustrating at first, his thoughts starting as nothing more than puppy love to something worse— it was only after you piqued his interest that he began streaming more.

This was both a good and bad thing; good because, well, he began to climb the ranks of popularity and earn more, but bad because he would find himself thinking of you. Each. And every. Time.

“Wish I could fuck you,” he would sigh out, his comments going too fast for him to keep up with as his eyes fluttered shut; leaning back against his headboard, he shifts, making sure everything but his lips remain out of frame before he’s back to closing his eyes, “would you let me make you feel good? God, I’d do anything just to feel you, taste you…”

As far as his audience knows, he’s speaking to them— the comments grow wild and tips flood in, all asking him to stop being a tease as they watch the way he palms himself through his sweatpants; grabbing at his length, stroking it slowly as he lets his imagination run wild.

He’s not wearing boxers; Beomgyu knows it drives his viewers mad, able to see as a wet spot begins to form on the light material, his tip leaking furiously as his other hand tugs the hem of his sweater over his chest— his vision is hazy as he reads the requests, laughing softly as he allows his fingers to trace along his chest absentmindedly— tracing over the muscle of his abdomen, circling his nipples slowly as he reads a comment under his breath.

Stop teasing and hurry up already !! >///<

The comment has him rolling his eyes— yet his usual tippers begin to request the same thing, and his hand is slowly tugging at the tied strings of his pants as he smiles, mocking and mean as he bites his lip.

“Hurry up? You want to command me while you’re over here throwing money at me like a whore? All just to watch me fuck myself, dreaming that it could be you?”

The comments start speeding up; it’s all a blur to him, but the sound of money coming in is enough to tell him that his usual audience is active again.

“Pathetic,” he sighs, his voice deep and grumbly as he reads over the requests that come in with the money: yes, i wish it were me there… please, can we see your cock?

“Desperate little sluts,” Beomgyu hums, tugging his waistband down and allowing his cock to spring up; it smacks against his stomach, and though the people in his comments attempt to regain his attention with dirty words and useless requests, he knows it’s all because of you— guiltily, he finds his thoughts straying the moment his hand wraps around his cock.

His streams have a certain formula to them; the more money, the better the show. Which is exactly why he ends up kneeling in front of the camera, fucking his cock into a clear flashlight as he listens to the sounds of tips coming in left and right— but his eyes remained shut, spilling enough filth to have his audience satisfied as he allows to let his imagination run wild.

In every stream, he cums to the thought of you; he has to bite his lip to not moan out your name like a pathetic bitch in heat, flooding his fleshlight with cum and continuing to fuck into it until his next orgasm.

In every stream, he finds himself thinking the same thought at least once— do you watch his streams?

»»»

The concept of camboys is ridiculous to you.

Why in the world would you spend all your money and emotions on a single person, when you can just go on Twitter and find the next best account that has yet to be suspended? Well, it’s not as though you find the idea of sex work appalling, but you don’t think you’d ever feel good about yourself spending a hard-earned paycheck because you were horny.

You’re not stupid; you know sex workers make bank, and you know that there are people in the world that love emptying out their bank accounts to such workers; whether it’s due to a kink or to feed into their parasocial relationship, you’re not sure.

You find that a good session on Twitter and your fingers usually does the trick— maybe a toy or two, if you find yourself feeling that needy.

Today’s session quickly becomes both disappointing and humbling; every account you try to look for has either been suspended or deleted, and every video you come across is something that’s not to your taste or something you’ve seen many, many times.

You feel weak as you come across the same account again; guiltypleasures— and he’s damn right, because you’re unable to resist the urge to click on his icon, feeling your thighs rub together with impatience as you sit back in bed— scrolling through, you’re surprised to see that he’s posted another video— without a second thought, you’re watching it.

“Fucking pathetic,” he sighs out, the familiar growled phrase making you gulp; you never found yourself to be too attracted to men who are extremely dominating and mean, but the man on your screen is somehow able to make it work as you find yourself getting wetter, “are you touching yourself right now? Don’t you wish I was there with you?”

And shit, you think you know why he’s able to make you come back to him every time, even if he’s posted nothing new and you’re forced to rewatch old videos most of the time; maybe it’s because of his hands, delicate and thin as they wrap around his favorite pocket pussy, or maybe it’s the way he slowly fucks into the said toy; stretching it out, his tip poking out and oozing enough cum that you can hear the wet squelching sounds that come from every thrust.

Or maybe, it’s his voice, deep and breathy and addicting as he mumbles out filthy things like it’s the only thing he knew how to do; his lips are red and swollen as he groans, hissing through his teeth as you watch the way his hands tighten around his toy.

“Shit, I’d fuck you so good,” he sighs out, hips rutting into the toy in his hands as he laughs; his head tilts, and though you’re only able to see his lips, you know his eyes are teasing as he looks into the camera, “fuck you so that you’d never want anyone else but me.”

His thrusts are picking up— you didn’t even realize the moment you began touching yourself, embarrassing whimpers and breaths falling from your lips as you keep your eyes honed in on his motions; you’re close, so close, your ministration speeding up as you fight to keep your eyes open.

“You’d be my good little cumdump, just for me to use— right?”

The video ends shortly after.

God damn it! your mind screams, the sudden cut-off catching you so off guard that you completely ruined your orgasm; you feel insanely embarrassed by how frustrated you feel, not realizing how short the clip he posted was until now. Clicking away, you feel as though your mood is ruined as you read the contents of his tweet.

A small clip from the stream. Watch the rest here: https://…..

Shit. Of course he would be a camboy. How did you not realize this sooner?

Honestly, if you sounded like that, you would be one too— and frustratingly enough, the brief cutoff is a damn good marketing strategy, because after a moment of thought, you’re clicking on the link.

You could just rewatch the video— you could also just go rewatch his previous videos, or even use your imagination to help you finish— but the idea of doing so is much more unpleasant than usual. (And humiliating, because you’ve found with horror that you’ve begun to memorize how his previous, equally as short, clips go.)

Your resolve begins to weaken the moment you click on his page— because of course, everything costs money— It costs to see his previous streams, costs to message him, and costs to get a fucking membership.

Who is paying for all this?!

You, apparently— because after some serious, slightly horny-impaired thought, you decide that getting a low-tier membership wouldn’t be too bad, right?

The cost is monthly (because of course it is, this website seems to want to charge you for just looking at his page) and you wince slightly as you watch your transaction go through.

Once you see the notification of your purchase pop up on your phone, you feel dreadfully sobered.

Because shit, being a low-tier subscriber only gets you a part of his most recent streams— about less than half of it, you notice— only able to get full access to streams prior to this month. It’s enough for now, but you can’t help but feel as though you’ve become the very thing you’ve despised as you lay back in your bed, staring at your ceiling for a moment before you’re sighing.

You’re still horny.

»»»

You think you can get behind the whole camboy thing. One may say you’ve been swayed, and quite honestly, you don’t think you could dispel such claims at this point.

Because it’s been a few months, and you’ve managed to stay through the whole thing. You’re surprised that you’ve begun to keep his streaming times in mind as you go about your day, ending your study sessions early or wondering if you’ll get home from work in time to watch his streams.

You always do. Maybe it’s a deity above making sure you get your money’s worth, or maybe it’s the fact that guiltypleasures is a human too, with a normal life and better shit to do than sit in front of a camera and jerk off all day.

The idea of following in his footsteps has crossed your mind more often than you expected; anything would be better than being a hostess at this god-awful job you have, forced to sit through the way people take out their anger on you and proceed to flirt with the servers— one of those servers being Beomgyu.

You were able to realize how popular Beomgyu was after your second shift— it didn’t take a genius to figure out why as you were left to deal with the way women of your age and older (mostly older. So many older women.) would creep up to you shyly, putting up a front of innocence as they asked you is Beomgyu here today? Could we sit in his area, please?

Seeing him rack up tips after a busy shift is always enough to have you wondering if you should switch to being a server— but then you see the way the women are treated, your stomach flipping in disgust at the way men leer and comment at them— you’ve even seen Beomgyu get cursed at plenty of times as well, shivering at the jealous partners and the way they’ve been blacklisted for threatening him.

Tonight is one of those nights. You’ve clocked out, shrugging on your jacket and gathering your belongings when you see Beomgyu storm in through the employee entrance; you don’t think you’ve ever seen him angry, but the sight has your eyes widening as you watch the way he frowns at his uniform, cursing angrily under his breath as he approaches the break table you stand by.

“Fuck,” he hisses, low and breathy and mean as he continues complaining, berating the customer that had the audacity to throw their drink at him— but you, in your very depraved state, remain stuck on the way he sounds, his voice far too attractive for a person who is spouting out filth.

This feels familiar.

“Hey, you okay?” you ask softly, feeling awkward as you mentally slap yourself for your train of thought; it seems as though Beomgyu hadn’t even realized you were there, his head snapping up as he stares at you like a deer caught in headlights— his mood is immediately shifting as he sends you a sweet smile, acting as though his clothes aren’t soaked as he waves you off causally.

“Yeah. Just some ridiculous customers,” he says, laughing softly as he grabs at a pile of napkins on the table; you wince as you watch him scrub roughly at the stains, unable to stop yourself as you jump to his aide.

“Here, you’ll only get the stains in deeper if you do that,” you say, taking the napkin from his hands as you begin to dab at his uniform without much thought; you’re much closer than you should be to someone you’ve never really talked to, but you don’t seem to realize it as Beomgyu practically forgets to breathe from your proximity.

Shit, how did he find himself in this situation? He might as well go back out and thank the jealous, “tough guy” boyfriend that threw his drink at Beomgyu, because he feels as though every guilty fantasy is coming back to mind as he takes in your concentrated expression, your hand placed firmly on his chest for support as the other dabs at the stains in his uniform.

You smell so good. Even though you’ve been in the restaurant just as long as him and have been around food this whole time, he’s still able to pick up on your scent with every shaky breath he takes.

You’re wearing your glasses, too.

Beomgyu’s mind is wandering off to dangerous places; he knows he needs to get himself under control, because the danger of him popping a boner just from how close you are is a higher probability than he’d like to admit. It seems as though you’re snapping out of your trance the moment he clears his throat, your face growing hot and slightly horrified as you jump back; Beomgyu can’t help the smile that tugs at his lips at the sight, finding your embarrassment oddly endearing.

“Sorry, got carried away,” you say, smiling shakily as you take in the way Beomgyu practically beams at you— always a sweet, nice guy, waving you off without a problem as he laughs softly.

“No, it seems to have helped,” he says, and you can’t help but notice how oddly charismatic he is even now, during this mundane interaction that has you stuttering over your words stupidly— but to be fair, how are you supposed to give him advice on how to get the stains out when he’s looking at you with the cutest god damn puppy eyes you’ve ever seen, his brown eyes round and sparkly as he listens intently to every word you say?

“I wouldn’t have thought to do that,” he smiles, his cheeks puffing up cutely and oh, is it weird that you want to coo at how cute he is and pinch his cheeks…?

Definitely weird, you decide, letting out a soft laugh as he tells you that he’ll try it as soon as he gets home.

“Speaking of which, I’ll let you go; you probably don’t want to be here longer than necessary,” Beomgyu is so kind and considerate even as you tell him it’s fine and that you didn’t have any plans after work anyway.

“I’ll let you get back to work,” you can’t help the soft laugh that escapes you as Beomgyu asks you to wish him luck, the smile he sports coy as you follow his command without any hesitation— you take this as your chance to leave before things get awkward, but a part of you itches to go back and talk to him more.

Beomgyu’s good, you realize as you’re exiting the building, a bewildered laugh escaping you as you realize that he managed to charm you just from that short interaction.

You get why he’s so popular.

»»»

Any plans to go to bed early and rest are immediately thrown out the minute your phone buzzes beside you.

You were just about to put your laptop away— just on the verge of falling asleep, until your eyes reluctantly drifted to read the words that take over your screen— it’s a Twitter notification, the username making your eyes widen as you’re scrambling to unlock your phone and read the rest.

guiltypleasures

had a shitty shift today, let me take it out on you? https://…….

Oh. oh, oh lord… you can feel the exhaustion lifted off in an instant; suddenly, you’re wide awake, eyes widening as you quickly copy the link of his tweet into your browser— while your mind scolds you for trying to stay up and possibly ruining your sleep schedule, the other, much more sinister part of it tells you that you’re paying for a reason.

The stream starts in five minutes.

While you wait anxiously in your room, your hands swiftly going to your nightstand to take out some toys— your trusty vibrator and a dildo you recently bought, all because of him— Beomgyu paces around his setup, gathering his own toys and changing into something that the viewers might like; today's ensemble is a bit more bothersome than usual, but he knows how much his viewers like when he dresses up and role plays a bit with them.

He was tired; today's shift took a toll on him, and he’d rather be fast asleep than putting on a stream— but after looking at today's earnings, he couldn’t help but feel unsatisfied with it all, deciding on impulse that he would put on a stream to make up for his lack of tips— instead, he’ll earn tips in another way.

“Hey,” he starts quietly, sitting back in his seat as he takes a glance at his monitor, making sure his face is out of frame. The viewer count rises and comments flood in no time, all of them freaking out about how good he looks in the suit he wears; the all-black ensemble feels stifling to him, but he knows taking it off will be worth it in the end.

Bad day today? Let us make you feel better :(

His top tippers are all begging for his attention, desperate and needy as always as they beg for him to get started— but he feels a lot more sluggish than usual, his gloved hands caressing his thighs slowly as he reads the comments out loud.

“Yeah, today’s shift wasn’t that great,” he speaks, his voice deep and sultry as he allows a moment to pass, reading all the comments that beg for him to use them, “I only thought about you though. Just wanted to see you.”

There he goes again— he’s no longer talking to his audience, but to you instead, closing his eyes and imagining a world where you’re in front of him, or even on the other side of this screen, one of the many faces that lusts over the way his cock begins to harden, the bulge becoming much more apparent as he lets his mind wander.

Unbeknownst to him, you are on the other side of your screen; a shy and flustered mess as you shift in your bed, watching the comments fly by as you wonder if you should join in— not that you could, anyway, your low-tier subscription excluding you from doing such things, as ridiculous as it is.

You’re practically devouring the man on your screen with your eyes; taking in the way he’s dressed, his pretty hands covered with leather gloves as he runs them slowly over his black trousers; stopping as they run back to his hips, a hand beginning to palm at his bulge as he spreads his legs a little wider in his chair— today's setup is a bit different, along with his attitude as he seems to sweet talk the audience more than usual.

“Seeing you is the only good part of my day,” he sighed, his free hand trailing up his chest before it stops at his tie— he’s tugging at it, loosening it and allowing it to hang around his neck as he continues, “Can’t stop thinking about how much I want you, how I’d fuck you until all you can remember is my name.”

The offer is tempting; you groan a little as you watch him begin to slide off his blazer, throwing it to the side before he’s unbuttoning his white shirt— he’s making quick work to become undressed, you notice, untucking the material and undoing his belt as the sounds of it jingling ring out in the room.

Yet, no one knows his name— no one knows anything about him, except the tattoo that runs across his side as he slides off his shirt, the sharp, elegant lines running all along his ribs, trailing down to his hip bones and disappearing under his pants— the rest of him remaining a mystery as you’re left to lust over a nameless, faceless stranger.

That’s probably where the appeal comes from; you’re able to imagine anything about him, from what his face looks like to what he may do when the cameras are off; you’re free to mold him into the perfect fantasy, using him and projecting onto him as you watch him slowly unzip his pants, a hand slipping under as he begins to jerk himself off teasingly, slow as always as he waits for the requests to come in— like clockwork, your eyes fall to the end of his tattoo, taking in the cute heart that rests by his hip bone, the ending of the elaborate piece that always has you wondering what it’d be like to see in person.

“Hmm? You want more?” he says, tilting his head slightly as he smiles; it’s mocking as always, biting into his lip as he begins to roll his hips into his hand— making a show out of it, throwing his head back and letting out a breathy moan that has you shivering.

“How about you show me just how much you want it,” he sighs out, smiling evilly as tips begin to come in left and right as a response; you find the way he’s able to manipulate the audience impressive, always able to get them to blow their money on him without hesitation.

He leans forward, towards the screen, and you’re able to admire his lips as he reads the comments, mouthing them as the lights cast a glow on his pretty, pouty mouth, his neck tempting and begging to be marked as you watch the way he displays it so teasingly.

“Good girl,” he laughs softly, your eyes flickering to the comment section for a moment; his top tipper has spent an egregious amount on him yet again, and you listen to the way he softly begins to fulfill her request, the rest of the audience momentarily disappearing as he begins to speak to her.

“Always such an obedient thing for me, hmm? Tell me, what do you want to see?”

His manipulation is seamless as he watches another tip flood in; all from the same person, the amount doubled in order to get his attention past all the others that blow a measly twenty on him, nothing compared to the three hundred that is highlighted in gold, the comment momentarily pinned for the man to read it.

I want you to fuck your favorite fleshlight and use a vibrator while you think of me. Can you moan my name please? It’s—

Her comment has your eyes widening for a second; it’s bold and demanding, and the idea of requesting such a thing from the camboy in front of you is daunting as you read her request over and over— your face feels hot and you’re already taking off your sweatpants from how needy you are, wondering if the man on your screen will accept such a request.

The first two are nothing to him— in fact, it’s more on the tamer side as he already finds himself reaching for the aforementioned toys.

The problem lies in the last request.

He’s not one to moan names on a live stream; he usually saves it for personal requests he gets, the videos much more personal and calculated as he gets to take his time with them— so for his top tipper to request such a thing on his livestream is a bit more difficult; especially when he spends this time thinking of you.

But then again, it’s three hundred dollars.

“Okay then, is that what you want? Hmm?” he teases softly, purring out her name at the end as he watches the way she tips him again; it has him laughing in amusement, sitting back in his chair before he’s crossing his arms over his chest, singing out her name with a soft lilt as he watches the way she continues to pour money at him like it’s nothing.

Soon enough, more requests come in; all with the same amount and request, hoping that they’ll be able to hear their names fall from his lips as he slowly begins to tug down his pants, raising his hips as he’s left in nothing but his underwear, the briefs straining painfully as his cock twitches, begging to be free.

“One at a time,” he murmurs sweetly, patronizing as he mumbles that it’s her turn now, watching the way she seems to react with every purr of her name.

The sudden trend of requests makes his stream slightly difficult; he’s always found himself to be a lot more into them when he’s mentally moaning out your name, lips ghosting over the syllables every time he’s coming undone. Instead, he’s forced to moan out the name of a stranger as he begins to palm himself slowly, even though his mind thinks back to you and the small interaction you had today.

He feels his cock twitch at the mere thought. It’s painfully hard and won’t stop leaking as he takes it out, not needing to use any lubricant as he begins stroking it slowly, hips jumping at the feeling of the leather against his skin— and though his lips moan another’s name, his eyes remain closed, thinking about you.

You and your meek personality, always letting guests take out their anger on you before they’re turning around and sucking up to Beomgyu— he’s always had to resist the urge to fuck them up as a response, knowing that you think no one else notices your sullied mood and your crestfallen gaze every time they seem to get away with it.

He’s never free to comfort you. You’re both far too busy to be around each other for longer than a few minutes, and today was like a blessing as he caught you at just the right time— he would have stayed the rest of his shift back there talking to you, if only he hadn’t been playing the part of a sweet, considerate guy.

He thinks back to how you felt against him. How, even though your actions were innocent and you were much more focused on taking out the stain of his uniform, he still felt the warmth of your hand against his chest, delicate and smaller than his as you leaned in close enough to allow himself to get a whiff of your sweet scent.

And those glasses.

He never thought he would find himself hung up on such an item, but the way they make your eyes look big and sparkly is practically enough to make him cum on the spot. Instead, he grabs a hold of his newest fleshlight, soft and tight, just how he imagines you would be.

It’s perverted, but as he slides his cock into the tight sleeve, groaning slightly at how he’s barely able to push through, he imagines that it’s you. His mind begins to wonder what it would be like if you were above him right now, your thighs encasing his and your pussy leaking onto his cock as he fucked into you without abandon.

As he turns on his vibrator, running it along his balls and letting out pathetic moans, he imagines what it would be like to use it on you while he fucked you, imagining the way your tits would bounce and your eyes would squeeze shut as he made you cum until you were unable to hold yourself up.

On the other side of the screen, you imagine the same thing. Your legs are shaking and you’re fighting to keep your eyes open as you follow the pace he’s set, pressing your vibrator firmly against your clit and letting out weak whimpers at the sensation. You try to ignore the way he calls out the same name over and over, wondering instead what it would be like to hear your name from his lips— the sound is ringing throughout your mind the moment you imagine it, burying your face into your pillow as you increase the intensity of your toy.

“Let me fill you up, want you dripping with my cum,” he growls out, the sloppy sounds of his thrusts only spurring you on as your thighs close around your hand, hips grinding into your dildo as you sink your teeth into your lip ruthlessly— it’s almost enough to draw blood as you watch the way he cums into his toy, hips continuing to rut into the it even long after he’s come, a white ring forming at the base as he turns the vibrator off from the overstimulation.

“_— Shit,” Beomgyu almost slipped up for a second, proceeding to moan out his requested name repeatedly as a distraction.

And you know you’re imagining it, but you’re briefly coming undone after that, your pussy tightening against your dildo and your legs shaking as you run your vibrator along your clit, imagining that it’s him inside you, that he’s currently spilling his load in your cunt— your mind swearing that you almost heard your name slip from his lips for a second— and it isn’t until you recover from your orgasm, the sound of another name leaving his lips repeatedly making you come to, that you realize it was your brain playing trick on you to help you get off.

But you weren’t imagining things.

Beomgyu hopes his audience didn’t pick up on his small mistake, but he’s relieved to see that they’re none the wiser as they continue to request to hear their name next.

“Let’s see…” he says, and you’re barely able to keep your eyes open as you watch the way he leans towards the camera again, reading requests off the monitor as he grinds his hips into his toy absentmindedly throughout it.

He’s barely getting started.

In turn, so are you.

»»»

Beomgyu is the sweetest guy you’ve ever met.

After your brief conversation at the restaurant, you quickly found yourself talking to him more often.

It turned into him sitting next to you during the one class you shared, your friendship growing stronger day by day as you got to know him better.

He acts like a puppy; he’s so sweet and kind, his voice soft and endearing every time he spoke to you— and, like a stark contrast to the flirty and outgoing guy you saw during your shifts at the restaurant, he was very shy, ever the gentleman as he always treated you with nothing but kindness.

“Good morning,” Beomgyu hums, sitting in the seat next to yours before he’s placing down a cup of coffee, “I got this for you. I already finished mine, but I thought you might like some too.”

Sweet gestures like these were common with him; despite your insistence that he really didn’t need to, he always did it anyway, ever the charming man as he sent you a cute smile that would have you unable to say no.

“Hey, I heard you’re friends with Yeonjun?” you ask, reluctantly accepting the drink after he insisted that you didn’t need to feel bad; your lips are curving into a small smile as you take a drink, stomach flipping at the realization that it was your usual order— you’re surprised he was able to remember it after the first time you got coffee together.

Beomgyu nods in confirmation. You’re a bit surprised by his answer, unable to see the two be friends due to their contrasting personalities. You can tell that he’s curious as to why you’re asking as he pouts slightly— a habit he always does when he’s confused— and you’re quick to swallow down your drink and give him context.

“He’s having a party this weekend. I was wondering if you’re going?” you say, and Beomgyu feels his stomach drop slightly; not because you were going— well, not entirely, at least— but because if you were going, you’d definitely end up seeing a different side of him. And after seeing how fond you are of his puppy-like behavior, he dreads seeing your reaction to a much more reckless side of him.

“I… think so,” he says sheepishly, wondering what kind of excuse he should make to not go— but he pauses, seeing the way you pout at him, grabbing his arm desperately as you lean into him as you plead.

“You should go— pleeeasee? Yeonjun’s parties are super over the top and he always invites hella people, I don’t wanna be there alone.”

You have this man wrapped around your finger; with one look at your face, your gaze sweet and pleading as you cutely pout at him expectantly, he finds himself agreeing, unable to fight back a smile as he watches the way you cheer triumphantly, quieting down the moment the lecture starts.

Beomgyu will definitely have to be careful this weekend— but seeing you will be worth it, even if he’s risking the chance of potentially changing the way you’ll view him forever.

»»»

You have yet to see Beomgyu.

The party started hours ago, yet you’ve only been present for a few as you’ve already both greeted and lost Yeonjun, forced to mingle with people you barely know as you all hang out in his backyard— because lord knows how packed and stuffy the place would’ve been if he held it inside.

You currently find yourself playing cup pong, teaming with the girl in your communications class as you go against two strangers— Yunjin is much friendlier and outgoing when she’s drunk, cheering you on and yelling triumphantly with every ball you get in— you’ve barely had anything to drink as a result, and Yunjin is eager to fix that as she hands you a small shot cup; you’re hesitant at first, only accepting it after she explains that it isn’t strong at all, the soju mixed in with other things as she tells you you’ll barely feel it.

It’s not that you’re a lightweight that would get drunk off one shot, but you’d rather not get shit-faced when you have yet to find Beomgyu; your eyes scan over the place once more after you take the shot, Yunjin’s cheers falling deaf onto your ears as you allow the team in front of you have their turn.

“Drinking already?”

Beomgyu has snuck up on you successfully— you’re flinching in surprise as you feel his hand fall gently on the small of your back, leaning in close so he’s properly able to speak to you over the music.

Beomgyu feels as though looking at you is a sin; he’s forcing himself to keep his eyes off you, listening to the way you ramble into his ear about how happy you are to see him, your head tilting back and exposing the column of your neck to him to get him to hear you.

“You’re not wearing your glasses,” he comments, oddly hung up on it as he watches the way your smile only widens.

“Yeah, didn’t feel like it,” you say lightheartedly, leaning back against Beomgyu and finding comfort in the position that allows the two of you to speak over the booming music.

Unbeknownst to you, he takes this moment to drink in your appearance. The white, oversized button-up you wear is left completely open as it drapes over your figure, the light blue denim shorts entirely too tempting as they ride up your thighs, much too short to even cover you properly— but of course, that’s the look you were going for, leaving your bottoms unbuttoned and folded down as you allow your bikini to peek through— the color is flattering on your skin, and Beomgyu wonders if he’ll be strong enough to resist you, eyes flickering over to the pool that’s filled with plenty of people as a distraction.

“You wanna go in?” you ask, and Beomgyu realizes you’ve followed his line of sight, shaking his head quickly in response. You laugh, turning around briefly as you listen to the sounds of Yunjin telling you that you have to drink— you freely down the shot in the plastic cup this time, much more at ease now that Beomgyu is around— and turn back to him, pulling at his shirt slightly as you take in his attire.

“Come on, you’re definitely dressed for the part!”

And that much was true— though he realized halfway through his drive here that doing so would not be a good idea, especially if he wanted to keep up this cute, innocent act of his.

“It’s too full right now,” he says, his excuse valid as you study the pool for a moment— only to agree, turning back to the game as you tell Beomgyu to cheer for you with a cheeky smile.

It doesn’t take much longer for you to get tipsy— all because you made the mistake of trusting Yunjin to play properly during her turn, missing entirely and proceeding to get the two of you obliterated after she went against one of the guys on the opposite team (Jake, he later told you.)— but you’re quick to make sure to bring Beomgyu down with you, handing him every other shot you get as you tell him he’s now on your team.

What you don’t seem to realize is that Beomgyu is not a lightweight— far from it, watching with amusement as you slowly begin to get tipsy, your mouth loosening and your personality becoming much more outgoing after losing the game to Jake and his friend— three times in a row.

“Again?” you ask, laughing at the way Yunjin yells in agreement— Beomgyu has to tug on your shirt to get you away, telling you that it’s definitely not a good idea to go again, especially with someone as uncoordinated as Yunjin.

“Why didn’t you play with me then?” you say, leaning against him as you smile up at him prettily; he’s leading you away from the table and towards the grass, over to where a small campfire is lit, plenty of chairs scattered about as the music becomes louder in this area.

“You don’t like games?” you ask him, stumbling to a stop and tugging at his shirt to stop with you, just so he’s able to hear you better. Coyly, you smile, your eyes twinkling mischievously as you lean in to speak to him quietly, “Don’t you wanna play with me?”

Your words are fairly innocent— but your delivery is not, and it has Beomgyu sputtering in surprise as he wonders how he should respond to such a random advance— though he doesn’t need to in the end, watching as you break character and laugh at your own antics, perking up immediately as you listen to the song that’s playing.

“Oh, I love this song!”

You’re dancing carelessly to the song without a second thought, pulling Beomgyu in and laughing at the way he seems reluctant to let loose; it’s probably the alcohol in your system that’s making you act like such an idiot, leaning against him and smiling at the way he seems adamant to avoid your gaze.

“You know, I just realized that we’re matching!” you laugh, tugging at the collar of his white button-up before you’re glancing down; it’s tucked neatly into his denim shorts, and your smile is only growing wider as you look back up at him, “we look like a couple or something.”

Your words affect him much more than he’d like to admit— but he has no time to dwell on it, eyes looking past you and at Yeonjun, who walks straight toward the two of you with a grin stuck on his face.

“Hey, why didn’t you tell me you were here?” Yeonjun yells, grabbing your attention as you’re turning to greet Yeonjun; you’re bubbly and seem to find everything funny as you giggle slightly, waving at him happily before you’re stepping away from Beomgyu.

“I couldn’t find you,” Beomgyu mumbles, watching the way Yeonjun slings an arm around your shoulders casually— he feels oddly angered at the sight, unsure why it irritates him so much to see the two of you act so close.

“Didn’t know you two were friends,” Yeonjun says, and he watches as you begin to ramble about your history with Beomgyu with a small smile— scanning your outfit, he frowns.

“You haven’t gotten in the pool yet?” Yeonjun asks, raising a brow at your entirely dry figure; you shake your head, which only makes him tilt his head in confusion, “I thought you said that’s the only reason you were coming?”

“Well, I just haven’t gotten the chance to,” you say sheepishly, the shy smile on your face quickly turning to one of confusion the moment Yeonjun hugs you; he’s got you tight, and you’re stumbling along with him as you begin questioning what he’s doing, your eyes widening the moment you peek over his shoulder— you’re heading straight to the pool, the volume of your yells rising significantly as you begin to struggle against your friend, yelling at Beomgyu to come to your rescue.

(It’s all for dramatic effect. Yeonjun laughs at the way you pretend to struggle against him, and he pretends he doesn’t hear your laugh of joy the moment he falls over the edge, letting go of you in time and forcing the two of you into the water.)

You’re pleasantly surprised to find that the water isn’t freezing; you personally thank Yeonjun’s heating system as you come up for air, wiping at your face and adjusting your hair as you begin to splash Yeonjun, insulting him for being such a bully.

Your movements are immediately stopping the moment you spot Beomgyu at the edge— Yeonjun is quick to leave, sending you a small wink (the term “wink” used loosely) before he’s off to find his next target—he’s taken his shoes off and he looks more than ready to jump in, and you can’t help but laugh sweetly at his concern before you realize that you should probably take off your shoes as well.

“You okay?” He asks you, watching the way you cringe as you take off your shoes, tossing them over the edge and leaving them to dry as you swim to where he stands.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you smile, watching the way he seems hesitant to do anything— to get in or leave, you’re unsure. A second passes before an evil thought pops into your head, taking notice of your equally soaked clothes that remain stuck on your body.

“Oh. Hey, could you hold this?” you begin, shedding off your shirt before you’re bundling it into a ball, holding out the fabric for him— he crouches down, arm reaching out for your shirt— and you seize your moment, both hands grabbing onto him and tugging as hard as you can.

And Beomgyu, in his unguarded state, falls in immediately.

The laugh you let out is pure evil as you watch him fall in, flailing for a second before he’s coming up for air— and honestly, Beomgyu can’t even be mad, at least not when you’re laughing so hard, your face lit up as you take in the way his hair is completely flat on his head.

“Sorry. Couldn’t help it,” you say, but you don’t look sorry at all as you swim over to your shirt that’s now sunk into the bottom of the pool. You’re diving down to get it, quick to throw it over the edge and by your shoes before you’re tugging off your shorts. You’re glancing back at Beomgyu, relieved to see he doesn’t look angry at all, when you spot something peculiar.

“Woah, what’s that?” you ask, approaching Beomgyu eagerly as he’s quick to follow your gaze. His cheeks are on fire and his hands are quick to fly onto his ribs, turning away from your curious hands and even more curious gaze as he stutters out an excuse.

“It’s nothing.” That’s probably one of the lamest things Beomgyu has ever said, and you’re not believing him for a second as your eyes widen at his sudden change in behavior.

“Is it a tattoo?” you ask, trying to get a peek through the cracks of his fingers; but the water makes everything blurry, unable to get the details of it before you’re humming appreciatively. “Hmm. That’s cool— I didn’t know that was such a common spot to get tattooed.”

“Is it?” he asks, and suddenly, he doesn’t seem to want to hide it anymore. Your curious gaze and awed compliments have him smiling, raising a brow as he feels himself become more confident— the idea that you of all people would judge him seems ridiculous now.

“Who else do you know that has a tattoo here?” you’re late to process the question— only because your eyes are widening as he admits that it is a tattoo, the words flying out of your mouth before you can truly process if it’s a good idea.

“I don’t know. I’ve just seen it online, I guess.” Of course, this could mean many things— but it means one thing to you, and you’re practically biting your tongue from the sheer terror that you inadvertently admitted to a guilty, secret pleasure of yours.

“Online?” he asks, and you try to not look suspicious as you choose to simply remain quiet and nod.

“Yeah, like on Pinterest and stuff,” you add, hoping that it’s enough to prove your innocence (to yourself) as you watch Beomgyu nod along to your words.

“Aren’t your clothes weighing you down?” you ask, eyeing the way he’s barely moved with a small smile, “or like, are you not wearing anything underneath?”

Most of the people here came with their swimsuits underneath— some just opted to strip to their underwear, which is why you didn’t feel alarmed to find people stripping their layers in order to jump into the pool.

Though, now that you think about it, you feel a bit bad for forcing Beomgyu to get in without much of a warning. Your concerns are quickly soothed, however, when Beomgyu shakes his head, hands coming up to unbutton his shirt before he’s laughing softly at your words.

“I was wearing my shorts underneath these,” he confesses, your eyes widening as you find yourself going silent— because wow, was Beomgyu always this ripped?

You feel odd as you watch him strip, sliding off his shirt as most of his torso remains underwater; he’s slowly making his way to where you stand by the edge, and you can feel your heart stopping as you take in the look in his eyes.

Dark. Dangerous. Tempting. You think you’re imagining things as you look away, gulping heavily as you feel yourself sobering suddenly. He’s throwing his shirt in the direction that your pile of clothes lie, and you feel oddly embarrassed by the way you have to look away as he strips his bottoms off as well.

You’re only glancing back in time to see him hover out of the pool for a second, his upper body coming out of the water as he takes a moment to lay out both your clothing properly.

Holy shit.

Was it common for people to have the same tattoo? It surely was, right? Those are the only things that are going through your mind as you observe Beomgyu’s tattoo, taking in the familiarity of each line as your eyes drift down to his v-line— your eyes spot the small, perfect heart that rests right at his pubic bone.

Oh god. Oh god, oh god oh god, you think, trying your best to not lose your shit and melt in a puddle of horror and embarrassment as you realize that Beomgyu has the exact tattoo as guiltypleasures.

It had to be a popular tattoo. Or maybe it was a reference to something, or a drawing a tattoo artist put out to let other people use— anything, it had to be anything else than the conclusion your mind was terrified of making, meeting Beomgyu’s gaze shyly as you realize that he’s caught you staring, hard.

“It’s pretty,” you breathe out, unsure you can trust your voice as you watch Beomgyu sink back into the pool, “Is it… a reference to something?”

Please say yes. Please say yes.

“Thanks,” he starts, leaving you on edge as he takes a moment to inspect his tattoo— running his fingertips over it, tracing over the delicate lines in a way that has you gripping onto the edge of the pool, “and no, it’s not. I designed it myself.”

You’re gonna pass out.

“Really?” you grit out, hoping he can’t pick up on the tension of your voice as you smile, albeit forced, “Like, it’s one of a kind?”

“Yup,” he grins, staring down at his tattoo with a proud look on his face, “One of a kind. My tattoo artist didn’t even post it, upon my request.”

You’re gonna cry. Maybe you’ll scream, or even sink into the pool and try to drown yourself.

Because Choi Beomgyu, your closest friend for the past few months and the man you may or may have not been beginning to crush on, is guiltypleasures, the man you lust after every night and fucking pay to watch.

You know they say that quiet guys are the freakiest, but this is too fucking much.

“That’s so cool,” you say, sinking into the pool so the water is up to your mouth, hoping that you won’t blurt out any more stupidities as you stare off into the distance, attempting to let this new information settle in.

“Hey, you okay?” he asks, and you hate how attentive Beomgyu has become— even more because everything is starting to click, his husky and deep voice a replica of your stupid camboy’s, your body reacting involuntarily to the sound of it as you simply nod softly.

“Mhmm,” you hum out, coming out of the water a bit so you can speak, “I think those drinks from earlier fucked up my stomach— I should go home.”

“Oh,” Beomgyu says, and you feel awful for the way he’s become confused at your sudden shift in mood, “Are you sure you’ll be okay driving—?”

“I Ubered here,” you mumble, oddly embarrassed at your words, “cause I knew I’d probably drink a lot.”

“Well then let me take you home,” he insists, ever the gentleman as you try to say that he shouldn’t, that he should just stay and enjoy the party.

“It’s dangerous to call an Uber at this hour though,” he continues, his stupid fucking puppy eyes taking a toll on your resolve as you bite your lip, “Plus, I only really came to this party because of you.”

God, what the hell was this behavior?! This innocent, shy, and sweet Beomgyu was a complete one-eighty— scratch that— was an entirely different fucking person than the one that always talked down at you at night, spilling filth like it was in his nature and treating you like you were worthless.

It was a bit terrifying as you watched the way he remained entirely oblivious to the Earth-shattering realization, getting out of the pool and reaching out to help you out with a sweet smile.

After a second, you take it.

You feel so awkward as you gather your clothes; you’re jumpy and you’re sure Beomgyu has picked up on it as he eyes you from time to time, watching as you wring out your clothes as much as you can before you’re slipping on your shirt, your shorts left in your hand as you avoid Beomgyu’s eyes entirely.

“I have a few blankets in my car— you should use those to keep yourself warm,” he says softly, looking back at you and frowning at the way you only nod with a tense smile.

Was he wrong about you? Were you lying when you reacted positively to his tattoo? Beomgyu has no idea why something as simple as a tattoo would change the way you treat him entirely, but he’s determined to get to the bottom of this as you enter his car, entirely stiff as you wrap one of his aforementioned blankets around yourself.

“Hey, did something happen tonight?” He asks you halfway through his drive, licking his lips nervously as he watches the way you jump in your seat, not expecting his question at all as you remain silent for a second.

“Uhm, no?” you say, though you seem unsure of your own answer as you wrap the blankets a little tighter around yourself, “I’m telling you, it was probably the drinks— I didn’t think my stomach would be so sensitive tonight.”

Your explanation is entirely plausible, but Beomgyu doesn’t believe it as he watches the way you remain tense, his car slowing to a stop as the two of you wait at the stoplight in an awkward silence.

“You’re lying,” Beomgyu says, deciding that it’s better to just be bold instead of tiptoeing around the subject, “Is it because of my tattoo?”

Your lips press together.

“It is,” he says, and he feels an unexpected wave of disappointment and anger wash over him, “did something that small put you off that much?”

“That’s not it,” you say, your heart pounding against your chest and your body heating up as you realize that you’ve upset him— and greatly, because you’re able to see the way his brows knit together and his hand tightens on the steering wheel as he begins to drive again.

Did he think you were judging him? That you thought less of him because of such a small thing?

“Then what is it?” he insists, and you’re mortified to see that you’re stuck in traffic, victim to Beomgyu’s sharp gaze that demands answers, “Cause you’ve been acting weird since I showed it to you.”

“I’ve seen it before,” you mutter quietly, sinking into your seat from the humiliation, “I recognized it. Your tattoo.”

Beomgyu pauses. Then he thinks of the many times he’s had his shirt ride up when he’s around you, from stretching to taking off his hoodie and having his undershirt get pulled up along with it.

“Okay?”

“Like. Online.”

That’s enough to leave him silent. Stupefied, even. One glance at you and your body language is enough to confirm that it’s exactly what he’s thinking, your posture so small that you look like you wish you could disappear.

“You’ve—“ he swallows, wondering what else to say as traffic begins moving again, “like… Twitter—?”

“Your streams.”

Fuck. Fuck, oh fuck, Beomgyu needs to get the fuck out of the car this instant, because his dick is already hardening and he can feel his brain short-circuiting at your words— you watch his streams.

In your mind, you feel as though you’ve completely dug a hole for yourself— Beomgyu is probably horrified at your confession, but it’s not as though you knew it was him, or that you had any malicious intent, or that—!

All Beomgyu can think of is how he shouldn’t park the car in the middle of the road and fuck you stupid.

“Did you watch them a lot?” he asks you, his voice eerily quiet and stable, and oh no he’s interrogating you right now, this is the end for you.

“Yeah,” you say, deciding to be completely transparent now that you’ve decided to tell the truth, “I’m sorry.”

Is it possible to come untouched like this? Beomgyu might just find out, because the way your voice is so meek and shy and guilty has him biting down on his lip, his mind growing foggier and his foot pressing down on the gas pedal a little harder as he begins to weave through lanes.

“You were a subscriber then,” he says calmly, and you feel as though he’s trying to humiliate you on purpose as you nod your head in admittance— unbeknownst to you, that’s exactly what he’s doing, enjoying the way he’s breaking you down from just a few questions with sick pleasure.

“How much money did you spend on me then?” You’re finding his line of questioning a bit odd at this point, but you refuse to look up from your lap as you find yourself answering anyways.

“I was just a low-tier subscriber…” you say, and it feels even more humiliating to admit that you cheaped out on him— what the hell was wrong with you?

“Low-tier? Not even a single tip?” he repeats, and you don’t seem to register the way he pouts at you until it’s far too late.

Stopping at a red light, he grabs your chin, turning your face roughly so you’re looking at him— and he’s back, the man behind the screen, except this time you can see the sheer pity that fills his gaze as he speaks to you as though you’re lower than him.

“How are you gonna make it up to me now?”

»»»

God. Fuck. Are you dreaming? You think you might pass out.

“I know, I know I said I wouldn’t stream tonight— shouldn’t you just be happy I’m here?”

Your stomach is twisted in knots and you feel small as you attempt to take in everything properly— Beomgyu’s setup, the same room you’ve seen countless times before— you’re able to see it all, from his large computer monitors, his filming camera, to his grandiose bed and the insane amount of toys he keeps on standby.

You shift restlessly on your feet, entirely bare save for a shirt that Beomgyu let you borrow— another white button-up, the very same one that he loved to wear when he dressed up, now hanging from your figure as he allowed the two of you to freshen up the moment you got to his home.

Nervously, you had left the shirt completely buttoned up; you watched from behind his camera as he continued to sweet talk his viewers, dressed comfortably in a sweater and sweats, his attire a complete contrast to your own.

“You’re happy to see me? I don’t believe you,” he smiles, and you feel as though you’re back to being a faceless member of his stream as you press your thighs together, able to hear the way notifications pop up on his computer, all of them signifying a new tip.

“You know, today’s a pretty special occasion actually,” he begins, pausing to see his comments and the reactions within them, “you’re curious? Do you wanna try something new with me?”

Yes. It’s the only thing he sees in his comments, and he lets out a soft laugh before he’s turning back to his camera.

Then, he’s looking past it.

“Come here, baby.”

You knew this was coming— you agreed to this, for crying out loud, but you still feel as though your legs are made of jello as you hesitate, biting your lip before your eyes are widening nervously, the safe word the two of you established beforehand running through your mind like a mantra you mustn’t forget.

“Come on, you don’t want to keep them waiting, do you?” he asks, eyes flickering over to his screen, watching the way everyone seems to go haywire from his words, “See? They’re curious, they want to see you.”

You’re taking your first step towards the camera— then another, and another, until you’re walking past the setup, your back facing the camera as you make your way to where he sits at the edge of the bed, unsure of what to do as you remain frozen in front of him.

“What, are you nervous?” he asks, and he’s only able to let out a mean laugh the moment you’re nodding in response, unable to use your voice properly— that’ll change soon, he thinks, reaching for your hands and guiding them to his shoulders.

“Don’t be,” he whispers, aiming for your thighs next as he’s tugging at them, pleased with the way you let him mold you to his desired position, your thighs on either side of his as you hover over him pathetically, “I know they’ll love you.”

Neither of your full faces can be seen— but the audience can definitely see the way he captures your lips in a harsh kiss, filled with nothing but pure need as he finally gets to feel you properly— you feel as though you’re about to run out air when he finally pulls away, laughing as he feels the way you buttoned every single button of the shirt he gave you.

“Now why would you do that?” he whispers against your lips, and your fingers dig into his shoulders pathetically as you watch him rip it open— the viewers are going wild at the sight, tipping ridiculous amounts of money just so they can get Beomgyu to see their requests; curiously your eyes drift to his monitor.

You practically collapse at the things you read on the screen.

Finger her. Eat her out. Use a vibrator on her, tie her up, breed her until she can’t walk straight, use a dildo on her—

The horror comes from the fact that Beomgyu is clearly considering doing all of it.

“What do you think baby?” he asks you, pressing his hand on the small of your back and forcing you to arch into him, your ass perking out and your cunt left to be entirely displayed as he trails his hand up your back, lifting your shirt along with it as he allows the viewers to get a good look at you.

“Anything that piques your interest?” he whispers, your head buried in his shoulder as you shake from the embarrassment of it all, “or…”

You jolt at the way his hand lands a sharp smack on your ass. He’s quick to soothe the area, smiling at the way he takes in the small whimper you let out, burying your face deeper into his shoulder and arching more in response. He lands another one, much more harsher than the last as his hand immediately drifts to your pussy, spreading you for the camera and watching the way you practically glisten under the light.

“Should I decide how I get to use you for myself?”

He’s a bit surprised to find that you’re quick to nod at his second request, much too shy to even lift your head from where it rests as your fingers dig into his skin.

He smiles, his eyes drifting back to the monitor as he begins reading over their requests.

“Hmm, are you shy, princess?” he asks, fingers trailing along your slit, feeling the way your hole flutters at the feeling, wanting nothing more than to feel him inside as you whine quietly, nodding at his words.

“But you’re so fucking wet, and we haven’t even done anything,” slowly, his fingers slip inside— you’re both moaning at the feeling, and Beomgyu thinks that he might just be the one to cum as he feels the way you stretch around his fingers.

“God, you’re so tight,” he groans, beginning to test out the waters by scissoring you— spreading you out for the camera, watching over your shoulder as your arousal practically leaks out; he gulps, unable to keep his eyes away from the sight as he sighs.

“Feels so soft and warm,” he mutters, placing a kiss on your temple before he’s reaching for something off-screen— the box of toys, you realize, forced to keep your face buried in his shoulder in an attempt to not show your face to his audience.

“Just like I thought you would be,” he says, smiling against your skin as he murmurs the words into your ear— just for you to hear, not for the thousands of people who are currently watching the stream.

“Do you know what I thought about every time I went live?” he asks, sitting up and shifting so that you’re back in position, shaking your head softly as you feel his fingers begin to circle your entrance.

“You.” the stretch you suddenly feel has you moaning pathetically, the first sound the viewers are able to hear as the comments begin to fly past— your legs are shaking at the feeling of him slowly pushing the silicone dildo into your pussy, thick and long as you squeeze your eyes shut, feeling tears prick at your eyes from how full you feel.

“I thought of you. Every time.”

Beomgyu’s eyes are dark as his hand grabs at your ass, spreading your cheeks and showing off the way the dildo begins disappearing into your tight cunt, your arousal already beginning to drip down the toy with every slow thrust of his.

“Wished you were there every time I would stream. I thought about fucking you the way I would fuck my toys,” his thrusts begin speeding up; you’re a moaning mess against him as you push your ass back, showcasing yourself perfectly and pushing up against the toy that he continues to ram into you— you’re jolting back into him with every thrust, your hands beginning to cramp with how hard you’re holding on to him.

“I would always moan your name too, did you ever notice?”

Your mind goes back to the time you thought you heard it— and, unexpectedly, you’re coming undone, reaching your peak as you respond with a pathetic yes…! The realization that it had all been real much more overwhelming than you thought.

Beomgyu continues to fuck the toy into you even long after you’re done coming; you’re a whimpering, crying mess against him, the stimulation making your mind muddled as you quietly attempt to get him to stop.

“Hmm? What do you want baby?” he asks, lips trailing down your neck and to your shoulders, where he begins to slip off your shirt so that you’re more exposed. He remains fully clothed as he begins sucking bruises into your skin, following one of his requests to mark up your pretty skin— his hair falls over his face, covering him momentarily as he begins drifting along your body carelessly.

It’s too much— yet, it’s not enough to have you using your safe word, and the fact makes Beomgyu smile as he bottoms out the toy inside you, grinding it into your pathetic pussy as he watches the way a ring of your cum begins to form around the base.

“Come on, talk to me. We’re waiting,” you’re hesitant to speak— that much is clear, especially when you know how much traction this stream is currently getting, the sound of tips constant as you shake your head in defeat.

“No? Okay then,” your shirt is being slipped off, leaving you naked as you wince slightly at the feeling of your garment being removed. Once again, Beomgyu is moving you around, and you’re facing the camera now as your legs are pried open by his own, the toy still stuffed inside you as you sit on Beomgyu’s lap— right on his hard cock, whining softly as you feel him begin to hold your hips down, grinding into you for some release.

“Don’t wanna use your words? Don’t wanna say anything to me or the viewers?” he tries again, eyes narrowing at the way you remain disobedient and shake your head, laying back against him as you pant softly.

“You’re not gonna thank our viewers for wanting me to please you, you fucking whore?” his hands are swift, and before you realize what he’s doing, your hands are cuffed behind your back, the fuzzy feeling reminding you of the cuffs he uses on himself sometimes.

“Fine. You wanna be ungrateful, stay quiet?” every sound that leaves your lips is unsure and soft, barely able to reach the microphone of the camera as Beomgyu scoffs at you. “Then stay fucking quiet. I don’t wanna hear a single word from you, understand?”

He doesn’t let you respond— of course he wouldn’t let you— but the way your mouth falls open suggests that you almost went against his command, the vibrator that he now pressed onto your clit making your legs shake with the sudden stimulation, threatening to close before Beomgyu’s own pried you back open swiftly.

“Look at you. Like a bitch in heat, only thinking about yourself,” he growls, his other hand beginning to thrust the toy back into you at a harsh pace, listening to the sounds of your arousal and the toy smacking against your skin with a satisfied groan, “Do you have any idea how many people wish they were in your place, wish they could be getting fucked stupid instead of having to sit and watch as I do it to you?”

He pauses. Then, he turns up the intensity of the vibrator with a cruel laugh.

“You would fucking know,” he seethes, taking in the way you writhe against him pathetically, biting at your lip to keep quiet as your hands struggle behind your back, “shit, can’t you hear how pathetic you sound? I bet you were a lot louder when you watched me, just another of my useless viewers that wish that I would fuck you— that I would even fucking acknowledge you.”

Everything that happens next is all a blur— your mind is foggy and you’re coming undone as you feel Beomgyu bite down on your neck, unable to hold back the pure keen of pleasure that rips through you, a string of unintelligible sounds flowing out of you desperately as you cream around the toy, feeling tears sting your eyes the moment Beomgyu decides to turn the intensity up again.

“Take it. I know you can,” he laughs purely because he knows that you have yet to use your safe word. It’s even worse because he’s right, the overstimulation fogging your mind and making you melt in his arms, still able to trust him even if your mind isn’t entirely there.

After a moment, the vibrator is turned off— you can hear him toss it to the side before he’s pulling the dildo out of your aching cunt, your body twitching at the sudden feeling before your cum is oozing out, dripping all over Beomgyu’s sweats and onto his sheets as he merely laughs at you.

You’re being turned around again— you feel woozy as you cling to Beomgyu, barely capable of hovering over him as he simply looks up at you, his eyes holding that same, innocent puppy-like look that got you trapped in his clutches in the first place.

“I feel so stuffy,” he pouts, tilting his head up at you as you simply whine incoherently in response, “I know baby. Won’t you help me out?”

It takes you a second to even register his request, your hands suddenly freed by him before you finally realize what he asked; your hands are slow and clumsy as you reach for the hem of his sweater, barely able to tug it up before he’s helping you out— your hands land on his shoulders once more for stability, your gaze falling on his chest and trailing down curiously.

And there it is. The very tattoo that got you into this mess, though this time you’re free to gawk at it, not paying attention to the way Beomgyu realized he caught you staring until he’s grabbing your hand, placing it on his chest and trailing it down, allowing you to feel him up as he shudders slightly at the feeling.

Your fingers trace over the tattoo. All the way down, following every elaborate line until you’re stopped by the hem of his pants, hands immediately slipping under before you’re tugging them off, pulling off his boxers too as you feel him lift his hips, left just as bare as you before he smiles.

You feel his cock poking at your entrance, painfully hard as he begins to rub it against your slit; teasing you with the tip, looking over your shoulder to see what his viewers may be saying.

“What do you think?” He asks, pushing his tip into your cunt before he’s pulling back out. The action has you whining hopelessly, and Beomgyu has to take a second to recollect his resolve, pausing all movements in order to not come then and there.

“Should I fuck her? Does she deserve it?” He asks, looking over at you, cooing softly at the way your eyes remain glassy and fucked out, “Don’t cry. You don’t deserve to cry, not when you’ve been so ungrateful to our viewers.”

A tip catches his attention, and he’s briefly scanning over the amount and request before he’s biting back a smile.

“See? Even though you haven’t said a word to them, they still want to see me fuck you,” he says, taking your hands off his shoulders and leaving you to wobble momentarily as he places your cuffs back on.

“Aren’t they the sweetest?”

You’re barely able to process what’s going on— all you know is that your position changes within seconds, and your face is buried into the mattress while your ass is up in the air, your legs shaky as you’re barely able to hold yourself up; luckily for you, Beomgyu is there to help, hands grabbing onto your hips before he’s making you lean back.

His cock is poking at your entrance, and he’s already able to feel the way your cunt tries to suck him in as he passes his tip along your entrance, left entranced with the way you look under him, a complete, ruined mess as you quietly whine out to him, your voice muffled from where your face remained in his sheets.

It’s cute, really, the way you’re able to focus so hard on keeping your face hidden— if you lifted your head now, every single viewer on his screen would be able to drink up your expression as he fucked you— the thought irritates Beomgyu.

He’ll just have to make sure to fuck you until you’re too weak to move.

“God, you’re such a brat,” he groans out, entering you slowly and feeling the way you clamp onto him dangerously; even with how wet you are, he finds it difficult to fuck you, gritting his teeth and taking a moment where he merely concentrates on not coming inside you then and there.

“Stop fucking squeezing like that— ah— shit—,” it seems as though your pussy has him going stupid, unable to form a coherent sentence as he slowly pulls out— the whine you let out is long and lethal, so desperate and carnal that Beomgyu finds himself losing control; tightening his hold on your hips, he begins to fuck into you without a care.

“Such a good little pussy,” he grits out, watching the way your ass bounces against him with every thrust, “fuck, wish you’d let me fuck you sooner— would’ve made you mine, wouldn’t be able to get enough of you— god, fuck—!”

The way you tighten at his words is dangerous. He’s cursing and talking down like he always does, but this time, it’s just for you. The very thought is enough to have you clenching around him again, mouth agape and drooling against his sheets as your sounds get louder.

Another tip rings through— the same person from before, repeating the only part of their previous request that Beomgyu has yet to fulfill.

Won’t she say thank you?

The words have him stuttering out a laugh, unable to help the way he moans in between. His thrusts slow, and he’s bottoming out inside you before his motions are nothing but a slow grind, rutting his hips into your aching pussy while he reaches for something off-screen.

Your whines and soft complaints at the sudden change of pace are brief— because soon after a familiar buzzing sound is filling your ears, and before you can react, the same vibrator form before is pressed against your clit on the highest setting.

“Gyuuuuu…!” you whine out, long and desperate and incoherent as Beomgyu grabs at your cuffs, using them as leverage to make you slam back into him. His thrusts are brutal and the sound of skin against skin is enough rivalry to the buzzing of the toy as he begins to use the last of his energy to fuck you to your orgasm, watching as the chat buzzes with excitement from your sudden word.

What? What’d she say?? Was that his name? omg?!

“Do you think you deserve to come?” he sneers, his voice gruff as you shake your head, knowing damn well that you haven’t been perfectly compliant to him like he wanted you to be, especially now that you may have just slipped up and let out a personal fact about him.

“Exactly,” he continues, his thrusts toning down in speed, but not intensity— he pulls out to the tip with every thrust, only to slam back into you and have you jolt forward from the harshness of his pace; the vibrator that was once relentless on your clit is now hovering mere centimeters from you, taunting you as all stimulation becomes insignificant to what it was before.

“Maybe, if you’re good for me, I’ll let you come,” he begins, watching the way you can only nod eagerly against the sheets, your hands struggling against your cuffs— he’s holding your hand at the sight, fingers interlocking as he watches you grip onto his hand with both of yours tightly.

“Will you be good for me? Are you gonna listen to whatever the fuck I ask you to do?” he says, his voice hardening at the end as he looks at you expectantly— a second passes before you’re nodding again.

“My viewers have been so patient with you. The only reason you got all this was because they wanted it— if it were up to me, I would’ve dumped my load in you already and left.”

That’s a lie— the biggest fucking lie Beomgyu has ever told, knowing damn well that he would’ve done all this and more to you any day, entirely unprovoked. But he knows his viewers love it, and so do you, because your cunt squeezes him so tightly he’s afraid he might just come early.

“Aren’t you grateful they loved you so much? Hmm?” you’re barely registering his words anymore. But you’re nodding nonetheless, your thighs beginning to shake from the sheer pleasure of feeling Beomgyu rut into your cunt throughout all this.

“Tell them thank you,” he says sweetly, not giving you enough time to speak before he’s back to fucking you wildly; his pace picking up, aiming for that specific spot that leaves you dumb and drooly as he places the vibrator back on your clit— any chances of sounding sane are thrown out the window as he begins tugging on your cuffs, bouncing you back against him as the wet sounds of his thrusts ring out through the room.

“Did you hear me—?” he asks, landing a smack to your ass before he’s soothing the area, slowing down so he can smack you again, “I said say thank you. Do you think you’re above us, pretty?”

Your first attempt to speak is a garbled mess.

“Come on, I know you can do better than that. Or— do you just wanna be a cute little cumdump for me—? Ah, let me use you every time I stream… don’t need any fucking toys when I have my pretty doll for me— right—?” His own sentences are becoming more incoherent the longer he fucks you, addicted to the way your pussy practically sucks him in deeper in response.

“Try again,” he growls, feeling his own orgasm approaching slowly, “show me you’re not a— shit, a fucking brat, and maybe I’ll let you… ugh, let you come.”

Beomgyu swore he got rid of his habit of rambling like this long ago. But, you seem to be able to bring it out of him, his calm and collected speeches crumbling like paper in his mind as he takes in the way both your arousals are smeared over skin and dripping down your thighs, forming a ring around Beomgyu’s cock as he feels his resolve beginning to crumble— he begins to fuck you carelessly, not able to think about anything else but reaching his high as he waits for your response.

“Mmh—! ugh… fuck…” your voice is increasing in volume, the shy person from before long gone as you begin to chase your orgasm, much too afraid to lose it as you try to form a single, coherent thought.

“Thank…. thank you…” you whine out, but it’s all too slurred and quiet and pathetic to Beomgyu as he growls out a sharp what? His hand pressing down on the small of your back as he glues your hands to your skin, forced to take the way he fucks you as you moan out uncontrollably.

“Thank you..! Thank you thank you, oh, fuck—!” holy shit, you’re full on crying right now, reduced to nothing but a mess of moans and tears as you ramble on repeatedly, only able to remember those limited words as you feel Beomgyu come inside you— warm and deep, stilling for just a moment before he’s back to fucking you, his own moans becoming much more needy at the feeling of overstimulation.

“Thank you thank you thank youuuu, fuck, fuck fuck mmh—!” you feel stupid. You’ve definitely been fucked stupid, moaning out those stupid thank you’s like a prayer as you feel yourself slumping completely, a boneless, gooey mess as you rely on Beomgyu to hold you up.

He continues to fuck into you slowly, even after you’ve gone entirely still; he thinks you might’ve passed out, but it’s only for a minute before he sees you shifting again, burying your head into the mattress as he hears the distant sound of you sniffling.

Beomgyu feels concerned for a second, ready to check up on you and end the stream before you’re grabbing his hand again; then you’re clenching around him, mumbling his name so sweetly while you try to press yourself against him.

You’re straight up gone, he realizes, stilling for a moment and waiting for you to use your safe word— but you don’t, and he sees you peeking subtly at his monitor before you’re burying your face back into his sheets.

“You got a new tip.”

The words are barely audible to him, but he’s quick to glance at it upon your request; he almost chokes as he sees the five-hundred dollars that have been sent to him, his eyes reading over the request a few times before he’s looking back at you.

Could you try to make her squirt ?

“It’s five hundred dollars,” you mutter, and all Beomgyu can do is let out a bewildered laugh, leaning down to place a kiss on your shoulder before he’s whispering in your ear if you’re okay to continue— the small nod you give him is enough to have his cock hardening inside you.

Fuck, he’s gonna give you the aftercare of the century after this.

#txt smut #txt hard hours #txt hard thoughts #beomgyu smut #txt fanfic #txt fanfiction #txt imagines #txt oneshots #txt ff #txt fluff #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu x you #beomgyu x y/n #beomgyu ff #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu oneshot

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forever-rogue · 9 months

Note

Imagine you and Eddie aren’t like official but just fuck around allot and you’ve stolen one of his shirts. One night you fuck around with some other guy before going to a corroded coffin gig and when you go up to hug Eddie he can smell the different guy on his shirt and he gets so jealous 😮‍💨 I live for jealous Eddie

AN | Stopppp, jealous Eddie?? Jealous rockstar Eddie?? Yes please! Enjoy 🥰

Warnings | Language, Mentions of Sex

Pairing | Rockstar!Eddie x Fem!Reader

Word Count | 2.8k

Masterlist | Main, Eddie

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Eddie!" You were breathless from giggles as he tickled your sides, keeping you pinned beneath him, "stop! Have mercy!"

"Hmmm," he stopped momentarily, hands settling on your hips as he brushed his thumbs along your soft skin, "why should I?"

"I'll do whatever you want," you promised, smile saccharine and eyes still heavy and soft from the orgasm you were coming down from, "promise."

"I can't say no to that, pretty girl," he brought his hand to your face, tenderly brushing his knuckles along your cheek. Your face turned warm as you looked away, unused to the extraordinarily tender gesture. Usually whenever you fucked it was just…fun. But this was something more, "promise me we'll do this again."

"You already know I can't say no to that," you grinned, reaching up and putting your hand on his chest to push him off you. There was something about the moment that was getting to be too much, too intimate between the two of you, "now get off you sap."

"Baby," he groaned as he watched you slip out of his bed still naked, bathed only in the moonlight that was streaming in through the window.

"Baby," you chirped back at him, reaching into dresser drawers and pulling out one of his t-shirts and a pair of boxers. You slipped them, almost oblivious to the fact that Eddie's eyes were practically bulging out of their sockets, "I gotta go, but I'll see you later?"

"Stay," he patted the empty side of the bed next to him. The one that should belong to you, if you weren't so reluctant to stay…ever. You bit the inside of your cheek, wondering if it was best to go or if one night of post-sex cuddling was going to break you, "what's the harm, huh?"

"Edward," he huffed at the use of his full name but his heart skipped a few beats as you came back over and slipped under the covers next to him, "you better stop or I might start to think you're catching feelings."

"And what if I was?" He angled his body towards yours, draping an arm around your waist and pulling you into his frame, "would that be so bad?"

"Eddie…we've talked about this," but you still laced your fingers through his and squeezed them, "you're not here half the time and it's just…what's wrong with what we have? We're friends and we have fun. Let's keep it at that."

“Y-yeah,” he swallowed down every other thing he wanted to say and just nodded before pressing a kiss to your shoulder. You shifted around so you were turned towards him, his handsome face almost hidden completely. You leaned in and kissed him, trying to quell any of the odd sensations both of you might have been feeling, “we’ll do that.”

“Can I keep your clothes?” you laid your head onto his pillow, inhaling deeply in order to memorize his scent, “that way I’ll remember you while you’re gone.”

“Fuck yeah,” there was definitely something stirring in his belly at the thought of you wearing his clothes. It was absolutely a primal and savage sort of possessive feeling, but it ran deep. At least when it came to you, "'sides you look way better than me in them."

"Whatever, handsome," you scoffed lightly, "you'll call while you're gone right?"

"So long as you come to the last show of the tour," he practically preened into your touch as you brushed his roguish curls out of his face.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," and it was true. You knew you'd miss him for three months he was gone, but when he was back it would be magic. Distance makes the heart grow fonder, or whatever, right?

"Good," he kissed you once more, softly and differently from how he normally did. It wasn't that he was never gentle with you, he often was, but it was clear that something was different tonight, "now get some rest, princess."

"G'night Eddie," you closed your eyes as you snuggled further into him, warm and comfortable and feeling more confused than ever, "sleep tight and don't let the bed bugs bite."

If this was supposed for be just sex, why did this feel like anything but?

Ugh.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It felt like it had been forever since the last night you’d spent with Eddie. Since the last night you’d had sex and cuddled for hours afterwards. You were missing him like crazy, despite how often he managed to call you; you almost thought that he was actually making it a point to call you (he was). Often you found yourself laying around and waiting for his calls…they were the highlight of your day.

“You could always just tell him that you want to be more than just friends,” Steve pulled you out of your thoughts as you clutched at your now rapidly beating heart. Steve flicked his rag at you as you scoffed and tried to think about how to even respond to that, “instead of just lusting after him.”

“I don’t…” you trailed off and start aggressively cleaning the espresso machine, thankful that it was a slow evening in the cafe, “we’re just friends!”

“Friends that like to have sex with each other-”

“Exactly!”

“And happen to have feelings for each other.”

“Wait, what - no,” you couldn’t face him. You knew his big, curious eyes would be able to see right through your lie. It was a quality you both loved and hated about him, “it’s not like that.”

“Mhmm," he didn't believe you for a second, "whatever you say."

"I'm not lying, Steven," your insistence was cute and made him smile even harder. He loved seeing his best friends in love - it was even better when two of his best friends were in love with each other. He was going to make this worth it.

"Then why haven't you been dating since he's been gone for so long?" He leaned against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest, "I thought you liked going on dates."

"I do, ugh! I just haven't met anyone worthwhile recently," you were almost positive that was true. Steve wasn't buying it, tutting at you, "the dating scene has just been…dry lately."

"Mhmm…"

"Don't do that!" You threw your rag onto the counter and held up your hands in exasperation, "I hate when you do your little mhmm thing like you just know everything going on in my mind! There's nothing to this. Nothing. Eddie is my friend, we have sex, and that's it! It doesn't have to be more than that. Can we please just drop this?”

“Yes - yeah, sorry,” some of his cheer died down as he nodded. He hadn’t meant to upset you but he had been so sure that you really had feelings for Eddie and vice versa. He just wanted you to be the happiest possible, “consider it dropped.”

“Thank you,” you offered him a small little half smile that was more disconcerting rather than encouraging, “now - do you and Robin want to go out for drinks this weekend?”

And just like that the idea of Eddie left your mind again. It was easier to ignore the nagging feeling that was growing at the thought of him as long as it was pushed far from your mind. He was still going to be gone for almost another month. By the time he got back, you could surely have put him out of your mind…and feelings. Most importantly you needed him to worm his way out of the part of your heart that he occupied almost entirely.

Ugh This was only getting harder.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The next couple of weeks passed in a blur and it was definitely by choice. You started going on dates every weekend and even some week nights. They were guys you’d met either out and about, a couple were through friends, and the rest were chance encounters when you’d go out for the night. Most of them were so unmemorable that you couldn’t even recall their names.

The worst part of all was that you didn’t even care about knowing their names or anything about them. At the end of every date or as soon as the sex was done your mind kept wandering back to him. To Eddie.

Steve and Robin, among others, were definitely growing more and more concerned with every passing day. You weren’t acting yourself and if anyone even mentioned it, you’d just ignore it or just play it off. You were fine, nothing was wrong and you weren’t doing anything wrong. If anything it was a weird coping mechanism. Besides all of that, you were sure that Eddie was likely doing the same thing. He was a rock star after all, partying and hooking up with groupies was commonplace.

The night before Corroded Coffin’s hometown show you’d hooked up with a guy named Matteo (you were sure that was probably some hipster name he’d chosen for himself) that you had met at a bar. He wasn’t anything special, good looking and well dressed in a very typical way, but nothing to write home about. In a few days you’d have all but forgotten about him. His best quality was probably that he was good in bed, giving without expecting anything in return which, with most men, was a rarity.

And yet, you still couldn’t help but compare it to Eddie. Eddie was the best you’d ever had and he was well aware of that fact. He always left you wanting more, and there was a small, wicked part of you that couldn’t help but imagine you were in bed with him when it was someone else. You might have even called one of them by his name…yeah. That one hadn’t ended well.

But this one night stand had turned into a whole day stand, where the two of you barely left your bed, opting inside to stay inside and have sex. The fact that this was the night Eddie was back from tour and playing the last show ...absolutely had everything to do with it.

Before you left for the show you’d thrown on a pair of cutoff shorts and the t-shirt you’d stolen from Eddie the last time you’d hooked up. Prior to making it out the door, Matteo had convinced into have another quickie and you decided that there wasn’t anything wrong with it. As soon as you were done, however, you kicked him out so you could finish your hair and makeup before going to the show. He’d practically begged for another date, or for you to at least call him, as he left and the best you gave him was a little half hearted sure.

You weren’t going to call him again. You were both well aware of that little fact.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You attended the sold-out show with Robin and Steve, the three All those of you in the VIP section in the front. There was something about Eddie’s stage presence that practically made you swoon; he owned the stage, just like he was meant to be there. You were positive that a few times he caught your eye, somehow managing to pick you out of the crowd, and that made butterflies explode in your tummy.

All those months of working to get over him were undone in a two hour set, and you felt like a lovesick puppy all over again. Well, fuck. Back to square one again.

Your eyes were practically glued to Eddie as you watched the band play; you felt mildly bad for not appreciating the hard work the rest of the boys were putting in but yeah. You were a pathetic sucker that happened to be in love with her best friend. You could admit that much by now…you'd never admit that to anyone else but to yourself it didn't taste so bitter. Instead it was saccharine and sweet.

After the show, the three of you made your way backstage, and your heart began to pound harder with each step. Each step brought you closer to him. You willed yourself to act natural.

But when you got backstage, Eddie was already standing there and waiting, or at least you presumed so, for you. Every ounce of self control that remained in your body suddenly left at the giant grin that Eddie offered you. Robin and Steve exchanged a look and a nod before slyly making their exist; it was all in your hands now.

"Hey there, pretty girl," you could feel Steve and Robin's eyes bouncing between the two of you. And then you decided - fuck it. He cocked his head to the side, and eyebrow raised in amusement, "what? No hello?"

You ran over to him, almost knocking him over into the process but Eddie managed to catch you. You wrapped your arms tightly around him and he reacted in kid, his hand soothing up and down your back.

"I've missed you so much," it was easier to confess than you'd thought as you pulled back from him. You were beaming up at him, but he didn't appear to be returning the sentiment. You grow worried as a scowl tugged down the corners of his mouth, "w-what's wrong?"

He tugged on the collar of your shirt, and shook his head, "have you been fucking someone?"

The growl in his voice sent a delicious shiver down your alone. You opened and closed your mouth a few times before cringing slightly, "umm, listen, I - it's kind of complicated."

"Who was it?" He repeated, his ringed hand going to your jaw and forcing you to look directly at him, "tell me."

"Well, this one's name was Matteo…" your answer was not enough to satiate him at all.

"This one?" He echoed as you shrugged sheepishly, "how many were there?"

"Like…eight-ish," you dropped your voice so he almost couldn't hear but - he heard you loud and clear.

"Ish?"

"Nine," you threw your hands in his exasperation as Eddie took a step back, laughing in anything but amusement.

"You fucked other guys while I was gone," he wasn't even asking, rather telling you, "why?"

"I, umm, thought it would be fun? Needed something to do," you could feel his eyes boring into you, "and you were gone."

"Silly, foolish little thing," he trailed his fingers along your jaw before shaking his head, "you don't get it, do you?"

"G-get what?" He brushes his thumb along your lip, causing your eyes to widen in shock.

"You are mine," he stated firm as you inhaled sharply, "you belong to me. Not anyone else."

"But Eddie-"

"I can smell him all over you," he tugged on the black shirt again, "you have a lot of nerve fucking someone in my shirt, pretty girl."

"I didn't-"

"I think it's time to teach some lessons," your cheeks warmed up at his words and found yourself unable to say anything else, "and remind you that you're mine."

"'m yours," and there it was. Out in the open and just so easy. It felt so right to say. Eddie smiled wolfishly as he nodded.

"It's about time you got there," his voice dropped to something softer as you just nodded, "baby, I've been wanting this, you and only you, for so long now."

"I-I think I've known," you swallowed the lump in your throat, "but I just…I just couldn't face it."

"Why not?" He took your face in his hands and gently looked you over, "hmm?"

"I was scared," you confessed, "I am. I don't want to fuck this up and I don't want you to hurt me."

"I'm scared too," he whispered, "but I'm never going to hurt you, baby. Promise you won't hurt me?"

"Never," you laughed softly, a gentle smile on your face. The last thing you'd ever do was hurt the man you'd been in love with for longer than you'd care to admit. He was everything, "I could never hurt you, Eddie."

"I know," he pressed a kiss to your forehead, "but now - you're coming with me. And I'm reminding you just how much I love you and that you belong to me. Yeah?"

"Y-yeah," you agreed eagerly, "but wait - Eddie…"

"Hmm?"

"I've missed you so much," your voice was small as you leaned up and pressed a kiss to his cheek, "I'm glad you're home."

"Me too," he pressed a kiss to your cheek in return, "so glad, pretty girl."

#eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson one shot #joseph quinn #st #rockstar!eddie

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songbirdseung · 1 month

Text

hearing you sing and or dance for the first time / en- maknae line

synopsis: their non showbiz girlfriend is caught singing and or dancing alone, performing relatively good. they start to question how you could be so talented but be so secretly about it.

SUNOO 김 선우~

as the sun streamed through the windows of the cozy apartment, sunoo grabbed his keys and headed out the door, his mind focused on the task at hand. he had to pick up some documents from the company before they closed, and he didn't want to waste any time. little did he know, his return would be met with a delightful surprise.

upon his return, sunoo stepped into the living room, expecting to find you engrossed in a book or perhaps preparing a snack. however, the room was empty, save for the faint sound of music drifting from your bedroom. curiosity piqued, sunoo followed the melodic strains, drawn like a magnet to your door.

as he pushed it open, he was greeted by a sight that took his breath away. there you were, standing in the soft glow of the bedside lamp, your eyes closed in concentration as you sang along to one of enhypen's songs. the room seemed to shimmer with the magic of your voice, and sunoo found himself utterly captivated.

for a moment, he simply stood there, unable to tear his gaze away from you. it was as if time had stood still, the world fading away until there was only the two of you and the music that filled the air.

finally, you must have sensed his presence because you stopped singing, your eyes flying open in surprise. sunoo smiled, his heart swelling with admiration for the beauty of the moment.

"that was incredible," he said, his voice filled with awe. "i had no idea you could sing like that."

you blushed, a shy smile playing on your lips as you tried to downplay your talent. but sunoo wouldn't hear of it. he launched into a long and heartfelt compliment, his words tumbling out in a rush as he poured out his admiration for your voice and your talent.

"you have such a beautiful voice," he exclaimed, his eyes shining with sincerity. "i could listen to you sing all day and never get tired of it. you brought that song to life in a way i've never heard before. it was like… like magic."

his words washed over you like a warm embrace, filling you with a sense of joy and contentment unlike anything you had ever known. it was a moment of pure connection, a shared appreciation for something beautiful and fleeting.

and as sunoo continued to lavish you with praise, you couldn't help but feel a warmth spreading through your chest, your heart swelling with happiness at the knowledge that you had touched him in such a profound way. it was a moment you knew you would treasure forever, a memory to hold close to your heart long after the music had faded away.

as sunoo continued to praise your singing, you couldn't help but feel a little embarrassed by all the attention. you tried to laugh it off, saying, "oh, come on, it's not that great. i was just having some fun."

but sunoo was having none of it. "no, really," he insisted. "you have a gift. you should consider auditioning for a talent show or something."

you chuckled, shaking your head. "i don't think i'm ready for that kind of spotlight."

just then, the sound of your stomach growling broke the moment, and both of you burst into laughter. "i think that's my cue to make us some dinner," you said, still giggling.

sunoo grinned. "i'll help. i don't trust your cooking skills after hearing your singing."

you playfully swatted his arm as you headed to the kitchen together, the music still playing softly in the background. it was a simple, silly moment, but it was perfect in its own way, a reminder of the easy, comfortable bond you shared with sunoo.

JUNGWON 양 정원~

as jungwon trudged home from practice, exhaustion weighed heavily on his shoulders. all he could think about was collapsing into bed and getting some well-deserved rest. but then a thought crossed his mind, a longing to see you, his girlfriend, before he faced the dorms and the inevitable teasing from the other members.

so, he mustered up the courage to ask the manager to drop him off at your place instead. his request was met with raised eyebrows and playful ribbing from his bandmates, but jungwon brushed it off, determined to spend some quality time with you.

as jungwon settled into the back seat of the van, the other members of enhypen eyed him with playful smirks. sunghoon, sitting beside him, couldn't resist teasing. "ah, look who's got a hot date tonight," he teased, nudging jungwon with his elbow.

heeseung, from the front seat, joined in with a grin. "going to see your girlfriend, huh? don't worry, we won't tell her about your terrible snoring."

jungwon rolled his eyes, playfully swatting at sunghoon. "shut up, guys. i just want to see her before we head back to the dorms."

jake, sitting in the driver's seat, chuckled. "sure, sure. we all know you just can't bear to be away from her for too long."

the teasing continued throughout the ride, but jungwon took it all in stride, knowing it was all in good fun. deep down, he was grateful for his bandmates' camaraderie, even if it meant enduring a bit of ribbing along the way.

when he finally arrived at your apartment, he was greeted by the sound of music emanating from within. curiosity piqued, jungwon let himself in quietly, hoping to surprise you. however, what he saw stopped him in his tracks.

there you were, lost in the rhythm of enhypen's "future perfect," your movements clean and strong as you danced around the room. jungwon's eyes widened in astonishment. he had never seen this side of you before, so full of energy and passion.

careful not to disturb you, jungwon positioned himself out of sight, watching you with a mixture of awe and adoration. he couldn't tear his gaze away, captivated by the way you moved to the music, completely lost in the moment.

as the song came to an end, jungwon couldn't hold back any longer. stepping into view, he applauded softly, a warm smile spreading across his face as you turned to face him, cheeks flushed with exertion.

"wow," he said, his voice filled with genuine admiration. "i had no idea you could dance like that."

you blinked in surprise, a bashful smile playing on your lips as you tried to catch your breath. "oh, jungwon, you're back already?" you exclaimed, a hint of embarrassment coloring your cheeks.

jungwon nodded, stepping closer. "yeah, i couldn't resist the chance to see you."

you chuckled, feeling a warmth spreading through your chest at his words. "well, i hope you weren't too bored watching me dance around like a fool."

"bored?" jungwon shook his head, his eyes sparkling with pride. "are you kidding? you were amazing. i had no idea you had such talent."

you blushed at his praise, feeling a surge of happiness at the thought of impressing him. "thank you, jungwon. that means a lot coming from you."

he grinned, his gaze never leaving yours. "you know," he said, his tone soft but earnest, "you could easily audition for hybe. with talent like yours, you could even work with me."

NI-KI 西村力~

as riki trudged towards the dance practice room, he couldn't shake off the nervous excitement bubbling inside him. he had been told that he would be covering a new song, which meant he had to learn the choreography as well. it was a daunting task, but he was determined to give it his all.

as he pushed open the door to the practice room, he froze in his tracks, his eyes widening in disbelief. there you were, dancing with their usual choreographer, effortlessly gliding across the floor to the very song he was supposed to learn. riki couldn't believe his eyes as he watched you, his non-idol girlfriend, dominating the dance floor with such grace and precision.

he stood there, rooted to the spot, unable to tear his gaze away from you. you caught his eye in the reflection of the mirror and winked at him, a mischievous smile playing on your lips as you continued to dance. riki's heart swelled with pride and admiration for you, amazed by your talent and dedication.

by the time the song came to an end, riki couldn't contain his excitement any longer. he burst into applause, cheering loudly for you as you caught your breath, a bright smile lighting up your face.

"you were incredible!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with genuine awe. "i had no idea you could dance like that!"

you laughed, a flush of pride coloring your cheeks as you walked over to him. "thanks, riki. i've been practicing a lot lately."

he grinned, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug. "well, you were amazing. in fact, you were so good, you could practically steal my job as an idol!"

you laughed at his playful remark, feeling a sense of joy and warmth enveloping you as you held him close. in that moment, surrounded by the music and the love of your life, you knew that anything was possible.

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starlightkun · 4 months

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➠ word count: 21.3k ➠ warnings: cursing, once again everything i know about hockey is from the internet and only for this fic i’m sorry, a couple different blood/injury mentions, needle/injection mention and descriptions, mentions of other medical testing/settings, just chronically ill girlie things 🤪 ➠ genre: fluff, sooo much fluff they’re sooo in love tbh, a bit of hurt/comfort sprinkled in, established relationship, college au, hockey captain sungchan, chronically ill reader (chronic migraines), christmas-y for a couple scenes in the middle, sequel to buzzer beater ➠ extra info: this is the sequel to buzzer beater, which you should definitely read before this one so you know what’s going on! the reader in this has chronic migraines, which i have. when the reader’s migraines, experiences as a chronically ill person, and thoughts about being chronically ill are described, that is me writing directly from my own life. i am not generalizing the lives of all people with chronic migraines/chronic illnesses, but i am sending all my love to any readers out there living with a chronic illness, and here’s a reminder to go take your meds! ➠ author’s note: i’m sooo down astronomically bad for hockey player sungchan and i hope you all are too bc take a look at that word count lol. anyway have fun!! ➠ series masterlist | spotify playlist

You felt more giggle than human at this point, wrapping your arms around his neck and burying your face in his collar to hide it from him and get a moment to recover your aching smile muscles. He hugged you even tighter to him, resting his chin on your head.

i. i will give you my palm to help you walk through the hurtful, want to give you that calm that you have so long searched for

[sicheng: come get your mans]

The random text from Sicheng made you shoot up on your couch. Hockey practice was happening right now, you were expecting Sungchan to come over to your place after—and also to not be getting texts from anybody on the team at the moment.

[you: hello? what?]

[sicheng: no seriously come pick him up he took a puck to the face]

You rushed through the automatic doors into the rink, looking around for any sign of paramedics or— The rest of the team was still practicing, and there was no obvious bright red blood on the ice, that was a good sign, at least. Nobody on the ice seemed to have even noticed your entrance. Okay, so maybe not a huge emergency then.

Taking a couple steps down the hallway that led into the locker room, you called out, “Sungchan? Sicheng?”

“Yeah! In here!” Sicheng replied. “You can come in!”

Throwing the door open, you immediately saw the goalie standing over Sungchan, who was sat on one of the benches, holding a rag up to his face. The white towel was blotted with crimson blood, and you gasped.

“Sungchan!” You darted towards them.

Sungchan lowered his hand, and you could finally see some of the damage. The blood was streaming down from a gash on the right side of his forehead, by his hairline.

No black eyes, though.

He gave you a wincing smile, and you thankfully saw all of his teeth still there. “Y/N, hey...”

You looked down at him incredulously, “How did you even—”

“I’m okay, baby,” he reassured you, reaching out with his free hand to squeeze your forearm.

“That’s not what I said. Aren’t you supposed to be wearing a helmet and visor out there? How did you get a puck to your bare forehead?”

“I’ll leave him to you,” Sicheng declared, backing away from you two. “I’ve got to get back to practice.”

“I wasn’t on the ice,” Sungchan explained. “I was talking to Sicheng by the gate. Rogue puck, he ducked in time, I didn’t.”

You knew whereabouts on the rink he was talking about. The school’s rink was also used for ice skating for some extra money, and had a separate entrance onto the ice for those patrons aside from the entrance from the players’ benches. Since he wasn’t anywhere on the ice, Sungchan must’ve felt comfortable taking his helmet off.

“And you didn’t have your helmet on.”

“Well, yeah,” he admitted sheepishly.

“Open gate, no helmet, rogue puck to the face,” you summarized, taking the towel from his hand to wipe up a drop of blood that had been inching down his temple while you two spoke. It at least wasn’t bleeding as profusely as before, the blood starting to coagulate.

“Really, isn’t it Sicheng’s fault? For ducking? He had a helmet on, he would’ve been fine if it hit him.”

“Mm, of course. Blame the guy with better reflexes than you.” You tossed the rag into the team laundry basket in the corner. “Alright, get changed, I’m taking you home.”

“Okay,” he agreed with a great sigh, bending over to untie his skates, then immediately sat back up. “Woah…”

As Sungchan blinked quickly to get reoriented, you dropped to one knee in front of him to start undoing his laces. “Lightheaded?”

“A bit…”

“I don’t know if I should be hoping for blood loss or concussion.”

After you’d gotten his skates off him, he was able to change out of his uniform and into casual clothes on his own. Slinging his practice bag over your shoulder, you handed his gear bag to him, knowing that you wouldn’t quite be able to manage that yourself. Without even waiting for him, you grabbed his arm to wrap it around your shoulders and snaked yours around his waist, the memory of him getting lightheaded replaying in your mind.

As the two of you left the cold rink into the equally cold December air, you kept an eye on Sungchan for any signs of him needing medical attention beyond your capabilities. Aside from the injury itself, he seemed fine, just with a slightly jutted-out bottom lip as he kept his eyes trained on the ground in front of his feet.

“What’s the pouty face for?” You asked.

“I’m not pouting.” Sungchan resisted.

“Yes you are. You look like a 186-centimeter baby. What’s wrong? Other than your acute case of puck face.”

The pout become even more prominent as he mumbled, “It’s like you’re not even worried about me...”

“Ah, of course I’m worried about my Sungchannie,” you promised, pulling him even closer with the arm you had around his waist. You moved it up to rub his back as you leaned your head against him affectionately. “I’m just so used to seeing guys get their teeth knocked out and their noses broken at your games that when Sicheng said you got a puck to the face, that’s what I was expecting to see. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make it seem like I didn’t care. I was just relieved, is all.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nodded firmly. “Besides, I’m clearly worried enough to take you home and patch you up myself.”

“You are?” He asked hopefully.

“Oh yeah, I’ve got this first aid kit that’s about as big as you are. You’re going to be good as new, baby boy.”

His face finally cracked into a smile. “Why do you have a first aid kit that big?”

“It was the only one at the store that came with alcohol wipes. I need them for my monthly injection, to disinfect the injection site.”

“Right.” He squeezed your upper arm. “Of course, the girl that has to have an entire pharmacy in her kitchen.”

You nudged him with your shoulder teasingly, “And my Sungchannie, who has to take hockey pucks to the face.”

Once the two of you had arrived at your apartment, you immediately pointed to your couch. “Sit.”

Sungchan obeyed easily, plopping down without another word. He took off a couple layers now that you weren’t in the biting winter cold, setting them on the cushion beside him as you bustled over to your kitchen.

“My head hurts,” he announced, sounding downright pitiful.

“Really? Your head hurts?” You pouted at him, getting on your tiptoes to pull down your massive first aid kit from your cabinet.

“Uh-huh.”

“Aw, my poor Sungchannie,” you cooed, setting the huge first aid kit down on the coffee table and popping it open.

The apartment heating had kicked on, so you finally took off your heavy parka and overcoat as well, leaving you just in the base lounge clothes you’d been in before you’d hurried to get dressed with the urgent texts from Sicheng.

First, you tipped a couple of over-the-counter painkillers into his waiting hand, and he knocked them back with a sip from his water bottle.

Grabbing a couple alcohol swabs and boxes of bandages, you asked, “Okay, Hello Kitty, spaceships, or Pokémon?”

“Mm… What kind of Pokémon?”

“First gen. I think it’s mostly Gengars and Psyducks left in there.”

“A Gengar please,” he requested sweetly.

You fished a bandage out, pre-ripping the end of the packaging before setting it on the arm of the couch. Standing in between Sungchan’s legs as he was reclined back on your couch, you leaned over him, very gingerly brushing his hair back from his forehead so you could see the injury better. Thankfully, the bleeding had stopped between the rink and your place, all clotted blood and the start of scabs. Less thankfully for him, you were about to sanitize all of that. Gently turning his head so you could get better light, you tore open the first alcohol wipe and lightly touched it to the very edge of where you thought the wound started. Sungchan’s forehead wrinkled, but he didn’t make a sound. You continued at your task for another second before he finally spoke up.

“Y/N.”

“Sorry, I know it stings, but I’m almost done.” You promised. “I’d go faster but the lighting isn’t great in here, and some of it goes into your hair.”

“Don’t you think you’d be able to see better…” A pair of hands grabbed your hips, encouraging you closer, closer, down, down, until you were straddling Sungchan's lap, a knee on either side of him. “Like this?”

You were about to make a retort, except this tragically did get your own head out of the way enough to stop casting a shadow where you needed. So instead, you looked down at him with an eyebrow raised.

“How injured are you, really?” You questioned, pink-tinged alcohol wipe still in hand.

“So injured,” he fake-whined, settling his hands on your thighs.

“I’m sure.” But you made no move to leave, instead leaning in and getting back to work cleaning up the area.

Sungchan provided no more obvious distraction to you as you did so, seeming content to just smooth his thumbs over your clothed thighs and trace shapes there with his fingers. When you were finally able to see where the skin was split, you frowned, using your fingers to part his hair and inspect how far back it went.

“How long do I have, Doc?” He joked.

“You’ll live, but the bandages aren’t going to help the part that’s in your hair,” you forewarned. “That means be gentle when shampooing while its healing.”

“Sounds complicated. What if I mess it up? I think you should do it for me,” he suggested with a smirk, fingertips playing with the hem of your sweatshirt— well, really it was his sweatshirt, but he’d forfeited it to you some time ago.

“Is there something about getting injured that just turns you into a horndog?” You scoffed. For emphasis, you pinched the sliver of skin on his stomach that was exposed where his own t-shirt had ridden up above the hem of his pants and boxers.

He sat up then, forcing you to lean back to avoid smacking faces, but he just chased you forward until you were nearly nose-to-nose.

“No, there’s something about you being so worried and taking such good care of me that makes me want to show you how much I adore… you… back...” He punctuated the last three words with kisses that went up your neck to your jaw.

You looked up at the ceiling, as if pretending to consider this reason. But the happy smile that was working its way across your lips clearly gave away the fact that your mind was already made up. You snaked a hand between the two of you to push him back against the couch by the chest and hold him there.

“Alright, but at least let me put this Gengar bandage on you first, hm?”

ii. you are so beautifully, so brutally out of comprehension, and how lonely i was in the before and after

With a sigh, you rolled over in bed and checked the time. One hour until Sungchan was supposed to pick you up. It felt like somebody was slowly squeezing your head in some kind of medieval torture machine. There was no way this migraine was going away before your date. When it’d come on within thirty minutes of you waking up, you were hopeful that it’d pass and you could still make it, but clearly you had no such luck.

You sullenly drafted your text to him.

[you: hey, channie, im really sorry about this. i know we were supposed to go skating this afternoon but i’ve got a migraine, so i have to cancel]

Of all the dates that you had to flake out on. Sungchan had been really excited to take you to the rink during one of their open skate times, to share something he loved with you, and you were looking forward to it too. While you weren’t the best at ice skating, you were going to have the captain of the hockey team with you, so you hadn’t been too terribly concerned about your safety. The way his eyes had lit up when you said yes in the first place. God... you felt awful. In the back of your mind, you knew that you were just going to reschedule but still, it just made your head hurt worse to think about.

Ten minutes later, and he had texted back.

[channie: do you want some company?]

[you: ah, you really don’t have to. i’m sure you’ve got other things you need to do]

[channie: 1. i already cleared out my day for you 2. i want to be there with you and 3. i’m already outside]

You smiled at the harsh, painful light of your phone screen, reading the third bulletpoint over again as you typed your response.

[you: spare key under the fucked up looking gnome]

The door to your bedroom was slowly opened just a few moments later, and you wordlessly rolled over in bed to make room for Sungchan to slip under your blankets with you. You rolled back over practically on top of him and buried your face in his chest, happy to have something else to block out the light aside from your blackout curtains. He wrapped his arms around you, pressing a kiss to your hair. The corners of your mouth quirked up fondly.

“Hey...” You mumbled a greeting.

“Hey,” he murmured. “How bad is it?”

“Not as bad as the one from Halloween,” you reassured him, throwing an arm around his waist. “No lobotomizing or anything. Just... hurts.”

“That’s... good, I guess.”

“You put my key back under the gnome? Or did you bring it in?”

“Put it back. Also why do you have that fucked up looking gnome?”

“I saw him on clearance and he was just so horrible, I had to have him. So now I hide my spare key under him.”

You didn’t know if Sungchan had found your answer satisfactory, or just decided to leave the topic be for your migraine’s sake, but he said nothing more. His arms shifted a bit tighter around you, and you could sense his sour mood without even needing to see his face.

“What’s wrong?”

“What?”

“My Sungchannie…” You said in a hushed, teasing sing-song tone. “You make a terrible cuddle buddy when you’re this tense.” You poked his stomach for emphasis, which was solid as a brick wall. “What’s wrong?”

“Sorry, sorry.” He readjusted again, and you did feel his muscles relax a little under you. “You’ve got a migraine, you shouldn’t be asking me what’s wrong.”

“Well, we already know what’s wrong with me. So, what’s wrong with you?”

He let out a deep sigh. “It’s weird. When one of the guys gets hurt on the ice, I can see where they’re hurt and either slap a bandage on them myself or take them to someone who can. But when you’re hurting, my girl... I can’t do any of those things. I hate it.”

“Just you being here makes me feel better, Channie.” You squinted one eye open so you could reach a hand up to gently stroke his cheek. “I promise.”

“If you say so.”

Despite his melancholy words, he turned his head quickly to give a fleeting smooch to the tip of your thumb before you dropped it back down to lay the hand flat on his chest.

“And... ‘your girl?’” You asked slyly, wishing that there wasn’t a thick hoodie between his bare chest and your hand in that moment, as you were sure you would’ve been able to feel his heartbeat jump under your fingertips.

His eyes widened minutely as his head tilted in confusion. “Are-Are you not?”

“No, I am. Definitely.” You contentedly squished your cheek against his front.

“And I’m your guy. Right?”

“As if that could even be a question,” you giggled, the words punctuated by a yawn. “Yes.”

“Good,” he breathed out in relief, and you finally felt him truly relax underneath you. “Uhm, I’m keeping you up, sorry. You should go to sleep.” He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, “My sleepy girl.”

“Mm, okay. Goodnight,” you mumbled, rolling over in his arms and letting your thoughts fully drift away.

“Love you...”

Sungchan continued staring down at you as your breathing evened out. The words seemed to have come out of your mouth as naturally as your breaths, and he fought back the urge to shake you awake again so he could say them back to you. Instead, he brushed your hair away from your face, planting a couple gentle kisses on your temple before scooting into his spot as big spoon for today and settling in for the duration of your sleep.

“I love you too,” he murmured into the crook of your neck, letting his own eyes close as he replayed the memory of you saying it first.

You woke up not even knowing your own name.

After taking a few seconds to properly come to and get reoriented from your migraine nap, you turned to your other side, immediately greeted by Jung Sungchan with such a tender look on his face that you had the breath knocked out of you.

Finally, you coughed out, “Hi...”

“Hey,” he smiled softly. “Sleep good?”

“Mhm... What time is it? How long did I sleep?”

“A few hours, it’s almost eight.”

“Cool, there goes my non-existent sleep schedule.”

He laughed quietly. “How are you feeling?”

“Better. I mean, blegh, but no migraine. Just... eugh.”

“The way you classify feeling good and bad fascinates me,” he commented.

You shuffled onto your back, staring up at your ceiling. “It’s all relative. One of my good days looks different from another chronically ill person’s good days. Same with my bad days. And no two abled people’s good and bad days look the same either. I mean, before I had migraines, I wasn’t out there being a hockey superstar like you. So yeah, right now I feel blegh and eugh, but in comparison to before my nap, that’s pretty good.”

“Huh.” Sungchan flopped onto his back too. “I mean, I guess I kind of knew that but... never really thought it through like that.”

“It’s a working theory,” you shrugged. “I’ve only been like this for... a little less than four years? And I’ll have these for, you know, the rest of my life. So, I’ll continue to refine it as time goes on.”

“Oh. Huh.”

“What?”

“You’re really going to have migraines for the rest of your life?”

“Yeah. Unless some miracle cure is discovered in my lifetime. It’s a lifelong condition.”

“That’s… damn.”

You let out a chuckle. “It took a while for it to sink in for me, too. When my neurologist mentioned it at my first appointment, it was like, whatever, but now four years later… yeah, it’s really starting to sink in that this is my life.”

“Woah…”

“Anyway, I’m sorry again about ice skating. I know you were really excited for it.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll go another day,” he promised. “Thank you for letting me be here, with you.”

You pushed yourself up to sit cross-legged, and put your hand over his that he’d been resting on his chest. “Thank you for coming, Sungchan.”

His face scrunched up. “What’s with calling me that? Am I in trouble?”

“Don’t tell me you’re one of those guys…”

“One of what guys?”

“As soon as they get a nickname or a term of endearment they won’t answer to their government name anymore.”

“It’s not that, it’s just… it feels like I’m in trouble. Like, am I not your Sungchannie anymore? Am I not baby or baby boy to you anymore? I’m no longer Channie?”

“You’re not in trouble,” you told him, slotting your fingers with his. “But… as a literary student, I understand the importance of diction and the symbolism of names.”

“Yeah, exactly.” He nodded firmly.

You snickered, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead. “Thank you for being here with me, my Sungchannie.”

He caught the back of your head with his other hand before you could sit up all the way, guiding your lips down to his. It was a sweet, lingering kiss, which neither of you moved to deepen nor rush. When his hand fell from your hair, you straightened back up, smiling down at him fondly.

“Well, are you ready for dinner?” You asked. “I was thinking frozen pizza and very quiet movies. Unless you can’t stay the night.”

“No, I can stay.” He nodded, propping himself up on his elbows. “That sounds great. Whatever you want.”

“Perfect.”

You climbed out of bed, taking a second to get to your feet before heading for your bedroom door. Sungchan was still under the covers, though, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. You stopped at the threshold of the door, turning around to look at him.

“Channie?”

“Hm?”

“By the way…” You paused, letting silence descend for a couple seconds as he patiently waited for you to finish. “I love you.”

You immediately darted away towards your kitchen, laughing as you heard him scrambling to get out of bed and chase after you.

“Hey, come back!” He cried out, and you swore you heard the thud of an elbow or a knee bumping into a piece of furniture or a doorframe. “I need to say it back to you! Baby!”

You couldn’t run very far, sliding across your kitchen tile on your socks before skidding to a stop in front of your fridge. Sungchan came barreling around the corner right after you, wild-eyed, clutching his elbow and out of breath.

“No fair…” he whined. “You got a head start and I hit my funny bone on your door.”

“Your legs are like twice as long as mine!” You pointed out. “I think that’s just equity.”

“And my funny bone?”

“I’m sorry about your funny bone, baby boy. Want me to kiss it better?”

“In a second.”

“Alright,” you giggled, waiting patiently for him to finish his point.

“You know what’s not equitable?” He asked with his hands on his hips, slowly advancing towards you.

“Aside from you busting your funny bone on my door?”

He’d gotten you in arm’s reach, seizing you by the waist to pull you into his chest again. “You saying it to me twice now without giving me an opportunity to say it back.”

You laughed and wriggled around in his grasp as he held steadfast to you.

“So not fair!” Sungchan complained teasingly, showering your forehead, nose, and cheeks in kisses.

“Maybe it’s a good thing you’re not an athlete, you don’t play fair,” he chastised you. “Being so unbelievably cute while I’m trying to prove a point here.”

With another loud smooch to the top of your head, Sungchan let you go, removing you from him and holding you at arm’s length by the shoulders. You raised your eyebrows as you eyed the several kitchen tiles of space between the two of you.

“Very romantic, Channie.”

“Ahh, well I can’t think when you’re so close to me!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. However you need to.”

“No, you’re right, come back here.” He pulled you flush to his front again, cupping your cheeks to tilt your face up to look at him.

You looped your arms around his waist, offering him a sweet smile. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he echoed, stroking his thumbs over your cheekbones. Sungchan looked over your features fondly, his lips twitching as he was clearly trying and failing to suppress a giddy grin. “I love you. I love you. And, I love you.”

You chuckled at him having to say it the third time, as your whole body buzzed with joy. Yeah, your insides were never going to un-mush at this rate. They’d been long gone since your first date.

“I love you too, my Sungchannie.” You gave him a gentle kiss, feeling him smile against your lips.

iii. i hear the secret whisperings of the world in the curves of all your bursts of laughter

Sitting in a stadium seat at the ice rink one afternoon, you watched the team’s practice as you waited for your boyfriend. Well, half-watching the practice. Now that the semester was over, you wanted to catch up on your personal reading list with the free time.

A sudden bang on the barrier in front of you made you startle and look up from your book. It surprisingly wasn’t Sungchan, but two other players—23 and 24.

You slowly waved at Jeno and Yangyang before turning your eyes back down to your reading. That just started up more fervent banging on the plastic and indistinct shouting from them.

“Oh my God! What?” You yelled back, tucking your bookmark into the pages.

Their words were indistinguishable though, because of the barrier, distance, and the fact that they were talking over each other.

“Hold on!” You huffed. Standing up and picking your way down through the rows until you were directly in front of them, you asked, “Okay, what? One at a time.”

“Are you coming to movie night tonight—” Jeno started.

“—at the Puck Pad?” Yangyang finished.

Your brow furrowed as you stared at their shining eyes as if they had just said a normal thing to you. “I’m sorry, the what?”

“Movie night?” Jeno repeated.

“You seriously think that’s what I’m confused about? I know what a fucking movie night is, Jeno,” you rolled your eyes. “What the hell is the ‘Puck Pad?’”

The two of them exchanged a look before Yangyang spoke up, “Where your boyfriend lives? The house that me, Sungchan, Ten, and Sicheng all rent.”

“The team is having a movie night there tonight!” Jeno reiterated. “We were just wondering if you were coming too.”

You blinked at them. “I’ve never heard Sungchan, Sicheng, nor Ten call the house that. Are you sure it’s not just you, Yangyang?”

Yangyang ignored your question with one of his own, “Are you coming?”

“Yeah, Sungchan mentioned some movies at his place tonight. I’ll be there.”

“Awesome!” They said in unison.

“So… the Puck Pad?” You asked abruptly as Sungchan came out of the locker room, your arms crossed and head tilted.

His elated smile dropped off his face as a bewildered look of confusion took over, and his arms fell down to his sides from where he’d been holding them out for a hug. “What…? Who told you about that?”

“So you do call your house that?”

“Look, we joked about that like once or twice when we moved in last year. It’s not like there’s a sign up or anything.”

“And you didn’t want to tell me about this because…?”

“It’s lame and makes us sound like a bunch of losers.”

“But you are.”

“Unh!” He held a fist over his chest as if he were grabbing some invisible weapon that he’d just been stabbed with. Clutching onto your shoulder with his other hand, he slowly started leaning more and more of his weight onto you as he made more fake noises of pain. “Oof! Oh God… Oh, that hurt, Y/N… My own girl… Ugh… Agh…”

Giggling, you had to change your stance to keep the both of you up as he was fully slumped against you. You let out a grunt of exertion as you readjusted to push on his chest and prop him back up into a somewhat standing position.

“Channie, get up!” You complained as he just flopped back over on you, bringing another bout of laughter from you as you struggled to keep the both of you up. “Channie! Seriously, you’re such a baby! Just a big loser baby!”

“Yeah, but I’m your big loser baby, right?” He teased, supporting just enough of his weight to be able to look you in the face as he pouted at you pointedly.

You pinched his bottom lip just a bit meanly. “Yeah, and you’d better not forget it. Now can we go? You do know that the team has been staring like the whole time waiting for us, right?”

The guys were all crowded up by the automatic doors in a huddle, in various stages of pretending not to watch and very obviously looking and snickering among themselves. Donghyuck and Yangyang were in the latter, the two underclassmen feeling rather brave tonight as Yangyang yelled out first.

“Come on, loser baby! We’re waiting!”

“Yang, it was big loser baby, actually,” Donghyuck corrected him facetiously.

“Right, of course,” Yangyang nodded seriously. “Come on, you big, stinking, whining loser baby!”

Sungchan straightened up, all humor drained from his features as he snapped his fingers and pointed at them. “Shut the fuck up.”

“Are you ready to go, Channie?” Jeno joined in.

“Don’t fucking call me that!” The captain shot back, grabbing your hand as he started leading the way over.

“Seriously, guys,” you spoke up once you had joined the pack of hockey players heading out of the rink. “Don’t call him Channie, please.”

Sungchan’s house—The Puck Pad—was a close enough walk that on nights like this, where the team would hold movie nights or other team events after hockey practice, the players would all leave their cars at the house beforehand and walk over. So you all had a roughly twenty-minute walk back there now, a gaggle of hockey players, their practice bags, a couple gear bags, and you.

“Why not?” Donghyuck fake-whined.

“Well for one, he asked you not to. That should be enough,” you retorted. “And two, that’s my nickname for him. Come up with your own instead of stealing mine.”

“Since you asked so nicely, okay.”

“Thanks, Hyuck.”

A phone alarm suddenly went off just a moment later, and you calmly turned it off from your watch before rummaging through the tote bag on your shoulder.

“Evening?” Sungchan asked knowingly, watching as you tipped out one pill after another into your palm, then grabbed your water bottle.

“Mhm.” You confirmed before knocking them back in several rounds. The two of you were thankfully towards the back of the group, so they didn’t notice when you had to stop and start every time you had difficulty swallowing your sips of water.

When you closed up your tote bag, took his hand in yours, and continued down the sidewalk at a brisk pace intent on catching up with the others, a frown cut across Sungchan’s face. “Aren’t you supposed to take those with food?”

“Forgot to restock the go bag with snacks yesterday. I’ll live taking one dose without it,” you shrugged. “Besides, we’re going to be at your place soon anyway, I’ll eat there.”

Sungchan reached into his practice bag, fishing out a slightly misshapen protein bar, “Here. Sorry, it got a little crushed.”

“Oh, you don’t—”

He tore open the wrapper with his teeth, then pushed it into your hand that wasn’t holding his. “Y/N, eat it.”

“Alright. Thank you.”

At The Puck Pad—which you were learning, it turns out, the entire team calls the house when nobody else is around—you ended up being pretty glad for the protein bar Sungchan had given you on your way over. You only ate half of it before you got to the house, but the guys were so disorganized that it wasn’t until almost two hours after you’d arrived that everybody was finally settled in the living room with popcorn, candy, pizza, beer (soda and water for you), and a movie playing on the TV.

You and Sungchan had a plush, reclining armchair to yourselves, tucked cozily under a blanket. Sungchan had an arm around your waist holding you close to him as the other moved between his plate that was balanced on the armrest with a stack of pizza slices, and the small end table where your drinks sat. You were happily curled up into his side, head resting in the crook between his shoulder and his chest, and your legs in his lap as you propped your own plate up on your knees to eat from.

The guys had picked a horror movie first—one without jumpscares, as both you and Mark hated them. Blood, gore, body horror, or psychological thriller didn’t faze you, but under no circumstances could you handle jumpscares. Mark, on the other hand, didn’t care for horror movies in general and would only tolerate them if everybody else wanted to watch it. His hard line was jumpscares, though, which you two could agree on. So everybody had checked over multiple websites to be sure that this specific movie definitely didn’t have any jumpscares. Just lots of blood, as you were now finding out.

“Gross, dude…” Mark muttered under his breath from the couch. When you looked over at him, you could see his arms crossed over his chest as he stared at the screen with a curled lip of disgust.

“Ugh, he had all those frogs inside him?” Yangyang pretended to gag, not looking away from the screen for a second.

“Good thing Hendery already went home for the holidays, huh?” Ten laughed, tossing a piece of popcorn into his mouth from where his head was pillowed in Sicheng’s lap.

Chenle, who had also been invited, snorted with amusement. “Hendery would be climbing the fuckin’ walls right now.”

“I’m with Mark, this is fucking nasty.” You shook your head, turning to bury your face in Sungchan’s chest. “Let me know when there’s no more frogs doing gross stuff to people’s internal organs.”

“You can pick next, baby. Promise.” Sungchan wrapped two arms around you. He leaned in even closer to you to whisper, “Please pick something not scary.”

Once the horror movie was over, you proudly picked a Christmas rom-com, making sure to get one that had the perfect balance of a low critics’ score and high audience score on Rotten Tomatoes, was at least as old as you, had a low budget, and starred two famous actors that hadn’t gotten their big break as of filming.

When Jeno tried to grumble, you merely stuck your tongue out at him. “‘Tis the fucking season, Jeno!”

“Oh, fuck yeah! Christmas movie!” Yangyang cheered through a mouthful of pizza, walking back into the living room with a newly filled plate of slices. “Jeno, did we already have this one on our list?”

“List?” You asked with facetious innocence.

“Jeno and I marathon shitty Hallmark Christmas movies every year when we go to his parents’ place on break,” the junior explained, plopping down into his spot next to his friend. “He keeps the list in the notes on his phone, so I wanted to make sure he checked it off if we had it on there.”

While your immediate instinct had been to tease Jeno like the other guys were doing, something Yangyang said caught your attention instead.

“Wait, Yangyang, you go to Jeno’s parents’ place on break? You don’t go home?”

“My parents don’t live here. I’m originally from here, but we moved abroad when I was a kid. They still live there. The holiday break we get for hockey is too short to make it all the way out there.” He shrugged, taking another huge bite of pizza. “Jeno’s family is super cool. His mom about lost it when she heard that I’d be staying at school for the holidays my freshman year, insisted Jeno bring me home. So I go every year now.”

“And you two binge Hallmark movies together,” Chenle cooed, pinching their cheeks in unison. “The bestest of fwiends.”

Jeno shook his head and rolled his eyes, but there was no denying the bright grin on his face when Yangyang talked about staying with his family, or when he snuck his phone out to open the notes app and covertly check something off on a list that you couldn’t quite read from the other side of the room.

The movie ended up being actually a really good laugh. Both intentionally and unintentionally. Some of the jokes still held up after all these years, which surprised you, and also, the movie was just funny bad sometimes, which was even better. You found your cheeks hurting from how much you were laughing by the end of it, and surrounded by similar smiles on your friends’ faces. Which made it all the more enjoyable. The ending was the perfect amount of cheesy, sweet, funny, and satisfying, and felt like the perfect way to finish off your own night.

As the credits started rolling, still with a smile lingering on your lips, you turned to Sungchan, only to find him already gazing fondly at you.

“Oh. Hi…” You squeaked softly, completely caught off guard.

“Hi, baby,” he murmured back. “Good pick, by the way.”

“Not too scary, I hope.”

“Well, I had my girl there to protect me from that terrifying small-town baker and the down on his luck yet equally terrifying single dad, you know.”

The rest of the guys were having a debate about the next movie to watch—Pride and Prejudice (2005), Donghyuck’s idea vs. The Amazing Spider-Man (yes, Andrew Garfield), Mark’s idea. A debate that was expeditiously devolving into a very loud argument, so you weren’t particularly worried about them hearing the quiet, playful conversation that you and your boyfriend were having in the couple of inches of space between your heads.

“Always happy to protect my guy from the horrors of cheesy rom-coms,” you quipped back. “Anyway, I think I’m about done. Unless you want to watch whatever they end up picking?”

Sungchan shook his head minutely. “Apparently Hyuck’s been watching that movie like every day since this girl in his Brit Lit class rejected him like two weeks ago—”

“You need a better fucking coping mechanism than Keira Knightly, dude!” Mark’s exasperated voice rang through the living room.

“Would you rather I take up heroin, then?” Donghyuck screeched back.

“No! What the fuck is wrong with you?!” The frat president groaned. “I meant like Tinder or something!”

“Oh, really great advice from my Big here! I should go get myself an STD or 7 because he doesn’t want to watch one movie with me!”

“It’s not one movie, this is the fifteenth time this month, Hyuck! And you know we have condoms in the house, man! Use them!”

“And that’s our cue,” Sungchan declared only to you, nudging you towards the front of the armchair.

You scooted off his lap, getting to your feet and stretching as your boyfriend spoke over the still-bickering Nu Chi brothers. “Alright guys, we’re done for the night. See you.”

A couple of the spectators gave you two ‘goodnight’s, but everyone else was still locked into Mark and Donghyuck squabbling match as the Little was now fake-sobbing into Sicheng’s arms about how his Big couldn’t care less about him and his safety and maybe he should go get every single sexually transmitted disease if it’ll make Mark’s life easier. Mark turned towards the closest wall and started banging his forehead against it as you and Sungchan headed up the stairs.

The Puck Pad was three floors and an attic. All of the shared family spaces were on the first floor: the kitchen, living room, dining room, laundry room, and a half bathroom; the second floor had two bedrooms and one bathroom, currently inhabited by Ten and Sicheng; and the third floor had two* more bedrooms and one and a half more bathrooms, occupied by Yangyang and Sungchan. Being the captain, when divvying up the rooms, the other three just kind of shrugged and gave Sungchan what was technically the master bedroom. It was at the end of the hallway, and while it wasn’t that much bigger than the rest of the bedrooms, it was the only one with an en suite bathroom. You would hesitantly call this a four bedroom house, as you were pretty sure that Yangyang’s room wasn’t actually supposed to be a bedroom. At least not when the house was built. The layout of the bathrooms had been your first clue, with there being just a half bath for him to use—he had to either go down one floor to use Ten and Sicheng’s shower or into Sungchan’s bedroom to use his shower—and the fact that the doors (yes, doors, plural, he had two doors to his very normal-sized bedroom, one of which was the actual entrance and exit from the hallway and the other, which was in an interior wall, could not be opened, despite having a handle and hinges) looked like they had been added decades after the frames had been built. You were stumped as to what the room could’ve originally been, but you were confident that it wasn’t a bedroom, at least. It was something that puzzled and mystified you every time you came over.

Donghyuck and Mark were either done with their spat, or the sounds of it couldn’t carry at the way up here. Either way, you were going to be well onto your way to dreamland soon as you settled down for the night with Sungchan, having done your nighttime routine, changed into your pajamas, and gleefully climbed under the covers.

“Are the other guys staying the night?” You asked Sungchan as he readjusted his pillow next to you to get comfy.

“Don’t know,” he said. “Usually they will if they drink a bit too much, or if they just don’t feel like going all the way home then having to come back this way for Saturday morning practice.”

You made a noncommittal noise, still ruminating over your half-idea in your own mind as you laid there with your eyes shut. The mattress and the sheets shifted beside you as Sungchan curled up behind you, resting a hand on your waist.

“Why are you asking?” He questioned curiously.

“Hyuck…” You sighed, placing your hand over his and slotting your fingers together. “Worried about him, is all.”

“It was some girl in his class that he’d talked to like once in the whole semester. He’ll be okay. Donghyuck’s just got to get the dramatics out of his system first.”

“Even so… Even if he’s just a bit bummed or whatever… Isn’t that what friends are for? To make you feel better when you’re bummed out?” You mused.

“Yeah, I guess so. That’s what Mark’s been trying to do, and he just ended up watching Pride and Prejudice fourteen times.”

You let out a soft burst of air, a quiet chuckle, at that. “Taking one—or, fifteen—for the team.”

Sungchan’s chest shook with a couple silent laughs.

“But really— Can you bring him back here after morning practice tomorrow? I want to take him out. Get his mind off it.”

“Yeah, sure. We can do something.”

“Ah, Channie, I was kind of thinking just me and Hyuck.”

“What? Why?”

“Because you guys pick on him.”

“He picks on us!”

“Baby?”

“Alright, alright,” he relented. “I’ll bring Donghyuck back after practice tomorrow for your little friend date.”

You turned your head to be able to press a fleeting peck to the tip of his nose. “Thank you, baby.”

“But I’m making you breakfast. You two will have to figure out something else.”

In the morning, you were faintly aware of an alarm going off early before it was quickly shut off and you rolled over in bed, burying your face in your pillow. Beyond your eyelids, it was still absolute darkness. You could feel the shifting of the mattress beside you and the press of a gentle kiss to your temple as you quickly sank under the calm waters of sleep once more.

You were half-awoken again some time later, a faint light streaming into your consciousness as the covers shifted once again, and a presence enveloped you from behind that hadn’t been there before. Letting out a peaceful sigh, you listened to the sounds of yours and Sungchan’s breathing as they eventually synced up, and you drifted back off without even realizing it.

Fluttering your eyes open, you groaned softly against the bright morning sunlight. After a couple seconds of squinting and blinking, your eyes had adjusted for the most part, and you rolled onto your other side. Sungchan smiled at you fondly as you rubbed at one of your eyes.

“You awake?” He asked quietly.

“Yep, ‘m up,” you offered a bleary thumbs up. “Just don’t make me solve any differential equations or whatever the fuck. Actually, don’t make me do that when I’m at full capacity either.”

He laughed softly, cradling the back of your head to pull you forward and press a kiss to your forehead. “Good morning, baby.”

“Mornin’ Channie,” you said back, punctuated by a yawn. “How was practice?”

“It was good. Donghyuck’s playing video games in the living room with Yangyang, by the way.”

“Good, good.”

“I think that was our smoothest Saturday morning yet. Were you able to go back to sleep okay?”

“Oh, yeah. I don’t even remember waking up at all, really.”

“Success,” he grinned.

You momentarily closed your eyes again, enjoying the peaceful moment as you let your body slowly work towards fully waking up. Sungchan gently stroked the backs of his fingers up and down your arm, and you relaxed even further under his touch.

“I like waking up next to you,” he admitted softly. You squinted one eye back open to look at him as he continued. “Doing it twice in one morning… I think that’s the most I’ve ever loved somebody.”

Shooting up just to push him back against the mattress, you held him there by the shoulders, your grip so tight it probably would’ve hurt if he wasn’t already used to much worse on the ice. He looked up at you with wide eyes.

“Are you trying to kill me, Jung Sungchan?” You accused. “Saying stuff like that to me first thing in the morning, I could melt into a puddle and never re-form! My heart could explode!”

“You don’t think my heart feels like it’s going to explode when I wake up and see you next to me first thing in the morning?” He huffed back. “That just sounds like equity, baby.”

“You don’t know the meaning of that word.”

“Maybe so…”

With a final shake of your head, you let go of him and fell onto your back next to him. He propped himself up on an elbow on his side so he could see you, the beginnings of a pout on his face.

“And what’s that pout for?” You teased, already with a sneaking suspicion.

“Oh, nothing…” He picked up one of your hands, dropping a line of kisses to the back of it and up your wrist and lower arm.

“Okay,” you played along with a smile on your face. “Because I was just thinking that I’ve been awake for a whole five minutes with no good morning kiss. But if it’s nothing, then—”

You couldn’t even finish your sarcastic dramatics before Sungchan had captured your lips with his in a sweet but intense kiss that pressed your head back into the pillow just a little bit. Curling your fingers in the hair at the back of his head and grabbing a fistful of his t-shirt with your other hand, you pulled him even closer, wanting to just be able to melt into each other completely like it felt like your mouths were doing.

Another alarm suddenly went off in the bedroom, different from the one that had gone off in the wee hours of the morning, and you broke the kiss for just a second to snooze it on your smart watch.

“Oh! Your meds.” Sungchan immediately looked over towards his dresser where your go bag was sitting safely.

“I snoozed it; I’ll take them in a few minutes,” you reassured him, grabbing his face to pull his lips back to yours.

He indulged you for a few seconds until you reached a natural break for air, where he instead pecked your cheek before sitting back on his feet. “I’ll grab them for you, I don’t mind.”

With that, he clambered off the bed and over towards the dresser.

It was impossible to get mad at him though as he so eagerly went to help. You were instead filled with such an overwhelming fondness and joy, unable to do much but smile tenderly at him. “Oh, Channie… thank you.”

“Morning, morning, morning,” he muttered to himself as he rooted through your tote bag to pull out the various pill bottles. “That’s… half of this one, one of these, and… one of this? Oh, and you just added this one, too. And your blood pressure cuff.”

“A-plus, Nurse Jung.” You beamed up at him as you sat up in bed, getting in the correct position to take your vitals with the cuff.

He came over to you, dropping your meds in your waiting palm. You looked over the colorful pills momentarily, pleased to see that he’d gotten it exactly correct. After taking them with your water that was on his nightstand, you held out your hand for him to give you your cuff. But instead, he undid the Velcro and went to loop it around your wrist himself, brows furrowing as he concentrated on the task at hand.

“How’s that?” He asked once he had it secured.

“It’s a little too close to my hand, actually, but good first try.” You undid the band, scooting it to the proper position. “It should be a little further above my wrist bone.”

“Okay. Got it.”

The two of you were silent as you waited for your cuff to take your blood pressure and heartrate, the only sounds that of your breathing and the usual ones of the device in operation. After the final beep and deflation, you brought your wrist down from your chest to look at the screen.

“Is that good?” Sungchan asked, focused on the results as well.

“Well these are my pre-dose numbers. And they’re actually a little lower than normal,” you explained, typing them into your health record on your phone with your free hand. “Only by 10 points, but that means that depending on the post-dose I’ll probably just have to keep a closer eye on my numbers today.”

“So now we set a timer for 30 minutes.”

“Yep,” you did so with just a couple more taps on your phone. “And in the meantime, you make me breakfast like you promised.”

“On it.” He smooched your temple, his hands tentatively reaching towards your wrist. “Can I take your blood pressure cuff off you now?”

“Of course.”

He gently peeled off the strap with a rip of the Velcro, standing back up to put it away in its case. Holding the cuff in its hard carrying case in one hand, he offered his other out to you, and you gladly took it, getting it to your feet.

“Hold on a sec…” You muttered, squeezing your eyes shut as you got light-headed for a moment, bright lights flashing in your vision.

“I got you, baby,” Sungchan murmured, pressing his arm to yours and grabbing your other shoulder with his hand—he must have set your cuff down or put it in his pocket.

Once you felt stable on your own two feet again, which took just a few seconds, you blinked a couple times, then smiled up at him. “Okay, ready.”

Downstairs, you could hear video game sounds as you emerged into the kitchen, accompanied by the muffled shouting of three voices. Yangyang, Donghyuck, and that last one had to be Ten, it wasn’t nearly deep enough to be Sicheng. You sat up in the corner of their kitchen counter to watch Sungchan as he cooked, occasionally in the way, but he never asked you to move, and you never offered. It was a simple breakfast, but nothing could beat the proud, happy grin on his face as he held your plate out to you.

“It looks great,” you told him, patting his cheek. “Thank you, Channie.”

“Anything for my girl,” he replied, absolutely beaming as he leaned in to give you a soft kiss. You could feel the curl of his smile against your lips.

The two of you had just taken your first bites sat at the kitchen table when Yangyang and Donghyuck wandered in.

“Something smells good,” Yangyang announced, his eyes immediately landing on your food.

You protectively pulled your plate closer to yourself.

“There’s plenty left in the fridge to make your own,” Sungchan replied, pointing towards the kitchen.

Donghyuck plopped down in the seat directly next to the one that you and your boyfriend were jointly occupying—you were on Sungchan’s lap. The sophomore stared longingly at your breakfast.

“Didn’t you guys already eat?” You asked. “You had morning practice.”

“That was forever ago.”

“You’re not stealing my girlfriend’s food, you ungrateful little shits,” the captain glared at the both of them. “Go make your own if you’re so hungry.”

“First Mark wants me to get chlamydia, now you want me to starve,” Donghyuck bemoaned. “Will I ever have a good role model in my life?”

Sungchan fixed you with a pointed look, but you could only giggle at your friend’s dramatics.

“Daddy issues much, Hyuck?” You ruffled his hair, earning loud cackles from Yangyang, and distant laughter from Ten.

Donghyuck stared at you with a dropped jaw as you heard a couple dumbfounded sputters from Sungchan behind you. The younger player recovered quickly, though.

“What gave it away? My unhealthy attachment to older male friends that I see as reliable, or my ‘I Heart DILFs’ shirt?” He retorted sarcastically.

“You do wear that shirt a lot,” you jested back easily. He owned no such shirt to your knowledge.

“And here I thought I was being subtle.” He clicked his tongue in feigned disappointment.

“As a trainwreck,” you nodded. “You and Yang either go get your own food or shut the fuck up, okay?”

Donghyuck stood up from his chair, giving you an overzealous salute. “Yes, ma’am.”

Yangyang went to follow his friend with a shake of his head. “Mommy issues much, bro?”

You couldn’t contain your laughs, tucking your face back into the crook of Sungchan’s neck to muffle them just a little bit. He wrapped an arm around your waist, holding you even closer to him. You kept laughing, even as he gently brushed his lips over the crinkles at the corner of your eye.

iv. because life is beautiful but life is work, so full of joy, so full of hurt

“So tell me about her,” you prompted Donghyuck as soon as the front door shut behind you two.

“What?”

“The girl that you like. Tell me about her.”

“Sungchan said you wanted to take me out to get my mind off it.” He regarded you suspiciously. “And everyone else is telling me I should just move on, stop moping and thinking about her all the time. Don’t know how talking about her more is really going to help that.”

“I heard that she was in one of your classes this semester and you two talked once. But if you’re this broken up about her… sounds like there’s more going on,” you shrugged. “If you want to tell me, I’m all ears. I know you feel like you have to ham it up for the guys all the time, make them laugh and stuff. But you don’t have to do that for me, okay? You don’t owe me entertainment in exchange for tolerating your presence or something. I’m hanging out with you right now because I want to.”

“I talked to her twice, actually. Not counting when she rejected me,” he began abruptly. “We were in the same Brit Lit class this semester, she sat in the seat in front of me. On the first day of class, she turned around to hand me the syllabus and accidentally bumped my water bottle. She smiled, apologized, and handed me the stack of papers and that was that. It’s so not me but I just, I couldn’t talk to her. It’s not just that she’s pretty—I mean she is, like the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen—but she’s so smart too. Whenever she’d answer one of the professor’s questions, she’d say something about the story that I would’ve never thought of in a million years. And like, the professor would be impressed too! But every single time I tried to hype myself up to say something, literally anything to her, I’d end up panicking and not doing it.”

“What was the other time? You said you talked to her twice, outside of when you asked her out. What was the other time, after the syllabus?”

He grimaced. “Ugh, right. I was walking across campus from the library to the parking garage one day. I was supposed to be meeting up with Mark at his car to hitch a ride back to the house. I had one of my sticks with me because I was taking it home to retape it, just sort of slung over my shoulders while I waited at the crosswalk. And it was dark, and I heard something behind me, whipped around to look, and ended up knocking her right in the eye with the butt of the stick.”

“Oh no,” you hissed sympathetically.

“I kept apologizing, but since I didn’t have my gear bag on me, just my bookbag and weapon, I didn’t have anything to patch her up with. She had some tissues in her bag thankfully… but I felt so horrible.”

“Aw, Hyuck, it was an accident. I’m sure she knows that.”

“And I felt even more horrible when I saw her in class a couple days later with that same eye black and blue.”

“Ouch…”

“And then on the last day of class, I caught up with her in the hall after turning in our finals, and I finally did it. I finally asked her out. And she said no.”

You let out a forlorn sigh, looping your arm with your friend’s. “I’m sorry, Hyuck. If it makes you feel any better, I think she’s missing out on a really great, sweet guy.”

“That doesn’t really help, but thanks, I guess.”

“I think it’s good to go ahead and be sad for a little bit, if that’s what you’re feeling.”

He let out a cynical chuckle. “I think my sadness is a bit of an inconvenience for the guys.”

“That’s not true,” you reassured him. “They’re just worried about you. You’re usually this big, unstoppable ball of sunshine. It’s like when one of you gets hurt on the ice, right? One of your teammates will slap a bandage where it hurts and you’ll keep playing. They don’t get why the bandages aren’t enough this time.”

“I don’t know if ‘ball of sunshine’ is a phrase that any of them of would use to describe me.” The corner of his lips twitched. “But thank you, Y/N. I didn’t really know what to expect when Sungchan told me that you wanted to hang out with me 1-on-1 today, considering you don’t really know me like you know some of the other guys. Like, I don’t think we’ve even been alone in a room together before, you know?”

“Huh. Yeah, I think you’re right.”

“Now I get it, though.”

“Get what?”

“Why everyone thinks you and Sungchan are gonna get married.”

“What?”

“Not like, now, but that you guys are going to, you know, make it, or whatever. Soulmates or something.”

You quirked up an eyebrow at the underclassman. “You believe in soulmates, Hyuck?”

“Yeah, I think I do. And I’m only telling you this because I don’t think you’ll call it stupid.”

“I don’t think it’s stupid. I think it’s sweet,” you reassured him, patting his shoulder. “A jock with a romantic streak, very swoon-worthy.”

“That how Sungchan got you?” He teased, elbowing you in the side lightly.

“Something like that.”

“Hmph.”

“This isn’t the end for you,” you said knowingly.

“I know, I know. Just feels like it.”

“I get it. Next time you want to watch Pride and Prejudice fourteen times, you can call me up, okay? Give Mark a break.”

“Careful, I might take you up on that.”

“Wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t serious. But for now, arcade?”

His eyes lit up at you finally revealing where the two of you were going. “Oh hell yeah! I’m so going to annihilate you at air hockey!”

“Don’t count on it,” you warned. “Sungchan’s taught me a few things.”

“Hey, baby, I’m back—” Sungchan skidded to a stop in the threshold of his bedroom, bag of delivery food in hand.

“Hey, Channie,” you smiled up at him as you were sat against his headboard. Donghyuck was curled up on top of the blankets by your legs like a cat, his head in your lap as you gently played with his hair.

“I was gone for like a minute,” your boyfriend gestured to the sophomore with bewilderment. “Does he just have a sixth sense for when you’re alone?”

“I told them they could join us for a movie.”

“Them?”

“Yo, you mind, bro?” Another voice piped up, Yangyang ducking under your boyfriend’s arm to walk in. He flopped across the foot of the bed, partially on Donghyuck’s legs.

“Oh, hey, Sungchan,” Jeno almost sounded surprised to see the captain in his own room as he followed his teammate in, laying down on his front with his arms and head resting on Yangyang’s back, and his feet up by the pillows.

“Well, I didn’t order enough for all of you,” Sungchan sighed, climbing over Jeno to settle into the empty space left beside you. “And no filching off Y/N, Donghyuck. Go downstairs and get your own food if you’re hungry.”

Hyuck tried to protest, “But—”

“Two of you don’t even live here, be grateful I let you eat as much as I do from our fridge, you’re not also getting the dinner that I bought for me and my girlfriend.”

“Fine. I’ll text Mark to bring snacks.”

“Mark, too?!”

Walking back with the guys to the Puck Pad after the last hockey practice of the calendar year, there was an elated buzz in the air now that the athletes were all finally on their own winter break. They were going over their plans for their short break: Jeno and Yangyang were going to Jeno’s parents’ the next day, Ten and Sicheng would both be leaving for their own homes tonight, meanwhile Mark and Donghyuck were both from the area, so they were staying at the Nu Chi house and just meeting up with their families on the holidays.

Realizing that you and Sungchan hadn’t really talked about your holiday plans yet, you peered up at him, about to ask, when suddenly your head started feeling light. You furrowed your brow, trying to blink away the momentary confusion as whatever you were about to say had slipped from your mind. Your head didn’t feel right on your body, but you couldn’t put your finger on what exactly it was.

Sungchan took just one look at you before letting go of your hand to instead grab your upper arm to steady you. His other hand went diving into the pockets of the practice bag in front of you, fervently searching for something.

“Dude, what the hell are you doing?” Jeno, the owner of the bag, whipped around to look at him incredulously.

“Where’s your snacks?” Sungchan was fumbling into another pocket now.

“Ate them already. I’m bulking.”

“Dude, bad idea,” Ten snorted.

“Shut up, Ten!”

Sungchan had started ransacking another teammate’s bag, and successfully pulled out a sports drink this time.

“Hey, that’s mine!” Yangyang protested.

Your boyfriend stopped and sat you on a bench nearby, cracking open the drink. “Y/N, here.”

“Bad idea to what?” You squinted your eyes up between Ten and Jeno curiously.

“Why does she need—” Yangyang was still complaining.

“Jeno’s been talking to Sugar n’ Spice,” Donghyuck answered your question, mischievous glint in his eye.

“Who—” You mumbled, but got cut off by the bottle being pushed against your lips insistently.

“Y/N,” Sungchan’s stern voice refocused you, and you obliged, taking a small sip of the sugary drink.

Ten continued filling you in, “Sugar n’ Spice and Everything Nice. One of Johnny’s old girlfriends.”

Jeno crossed his arms with an indignant huff, “They were not—”

“And who are you really going to believe? Johnny or her?” Donghyuck retorted.

“You didn’t even go here when they—”

“Guys, shut the hell up!” Mark finally snapped at all of them, gesturing to your general unwell demeanor.

“Oh shit dude.” Yangyang’s eyes widened.

“Yeah.”

“Bro, she does not look good,” Jeno stated the obvious.

“She’ll be fine in a minute,” Sungchan replied, holding the bottle back up to your mouth. His voice was firm but gentle as he instructed you, “Y/N, drink some more.”

“Anyway, Jeno, no matter how much you bulk, it’s not going to make up for the inches you’re missing. Height or otherwise,” Donghyuck taunted nonchalantly.

“Lee Donghyuck, I’m going to break your fucking nose, come here!” Jeno lunged for the underclassman, only making him yelp and dart away.

“Don’t—!” Mark’s warning was cut off as Jeno chased Donghyuck down, his voice fading out as he sighed and finished quietly, “...Cause any permanent damage...”

“You okay, Y/N?” Sicheng asked, as you took a couple more small sips.

You nodded. “Just a bit low, uhm, blood sugar. I’ll be okay.”

It always took you a few minutes to realize when you were low on your own, but Sungchan could tell with just one glance at you—it made you wonder what you looked like when you got like this.

Back at the Puck Pad that evening, you had already said your goodbyes to Ten and Sicheng; and Jeno, Donghyuck, and Mark were upstairs in Yangyang’s room allegedly helping him pack. Judging by the video game sounds you could hear from the bottom of the stairs, they had gotten a little distracted. Sungchan and you had settled down in the living room to watch a movie, and with the fog lifted from your mind, you were able to remember what you were going to ask him earlier.

“Hey, Channie?” You picked your head up from his chest to be able to look at him. He was laying on his back across the whole couch, you snuggled in on top of him.

“Hm?” He looked from the TV to you.

“What are your plans?”

“Oh. Well…” He paused the movie, his hands coming to settle on your lower back and sneaking just under the hem of your (his) hoodie to trace spirals into your skin. “Our lease ends after graduation, and Yangyang’s been talking about looking for a place with Jeno, and Ten and Sicheng are probably going to get their own place. I know we haven’t talked about it yet, but every time I try to think what I’m going to do, I just imagine that we would move in together.”

Your dumbfounded silence encouraged him to go on, his voice sounding far away and dreamy.

“Like, I don’t know, being able to wake up next to you everyday, and sleep in on the weekends with you with no practice. Cooking breakfast for you every morning, even just grocery shopping together. It’s all I can think about, really.”

You finally choked out, “I-I meant for the holidays. Like, visiting family, being in town…”

His cheeks started flushing. “Right. Sorry. I’m visiting my family on Christmas Day. What about you?”

“Me too.”

“We should spend Christmas Eve together, then.”

“Yeah, sounds good. New Year’s, too?”

“Of course. Who else would I kiss at midnight?”

A fond smile spread across your lips, and you tilted your head up to give him a peck. “Of course.”

“So, uhm,” he cleared his throat awkwardly. “The other thing I mentioned?”

“What are you doing after graduation? Made a decision about that PhD program?”

“Yep… more school,” he sighed.

“Me, too.” You pulled a blanket up over you two. “I think… Yeah, we can move in together. I’d really like that.”

He pressed a kiss to your forehead. “You make me so happy, baby.”

“You could just move in with me? To my apartment?” You suggested as a grin spread across your face. You were getting giddy already imagining it.

Another forehead kiss. “I would love that.”

“You make me really happy too, Channie,” you murmured, your fingertip tracing mindless figure-eights into the front of his shirt.

“I love you so much.” He cradled your face with two hands with a tenderness that made your heart ache to be a part of him in a way that you could never physically attain.

You leaned in to touch your nose to his. “I love you, too.”

Christmas Eve was just a couple days later, and instead of walking in the park amongst the freshly fallen snow, or touring the elaborate lights put up in the rich neighborhood nearby, or baking Christmas cookies while watching cheesy Christmas movies, or any of your other cute Christmas plans with Sungchan, you were bedridden with a migraine. A bad one.

You let out a soft whimper as tears welled up in your eyes, both from the pain and from pure frustration at having something else ruined for you because of these stupid migraines. Ice skating you could reschedule, but you couldn’t take a rain check on your first Christmas (Eve) together.

Sungchan curled his arms around you tighter, a steady pressure across your back. “It’s been two hours,” he murmured as quietly as possible.

“I don’t want my stupid fucking medication that isn’t fucking working,” you practically spat out, the first tears slipping down your cheeks.

“I’m so sorry, baby.” Sungchan pressed a gentle kiss to your shoulder, careful to avoid your scalp, which currently felt like it was on fire in addition to your usual squeezing and stabbing migraine pain. Side effect from a new rescue medication your neurologist was having you try. Safe to say it wasn’t a winner.

At the distress in his own tone over his usual regrets of seeing you hurting but not being able to help, you finally broke down into open sobs. Clenching your eyes shut tight, you clung to his arms. Your chest shook with every breath as you quietly wailed, burying your face in your pillow. You couldn’t bear to turn around and see the angst on your boyfriend’s features.

“Oh, baby,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “If I could take all your pain away and put it on myself, I would. God, I’m so, so sorry.”

You could hardly talk past the solid, hard lump in your throat, at first letting out a couple more strangled sobs as your tears and spit ruined your pillowcase. When you finally blubbered something out, your voice was distraught and despondent, “Why can I never… never have nice things? Why does it feel like the world is so big and nothing can go right and it all hurts so much… and I’m just so small and my body and my brain are… so broken?”

“I don’t know, baby, I don’t know,” Sungchan replied desperately, fully weeping with you into your shoulder now. “You don’t deserve this. I’m so sorry.”

You eventually fell asleep, but unlike your typical migraine naps, this one didn’t bring any sort of peace to Sungchan’s mind. Usually the naps were a good sign, you would wake up without the migraine and be relatively all better. But you’d never cried yourself to sleep during a migraine before, and having to hold a bawling you in his arms while he couldn’t do anything but apologize for being absolutely useless had left him shaken up. He didn’t think he’d be able to nap with you this time.

Sungchan didn’t dare move, keeping watch over you as you slept as if he could keep anymore pain away. He could still hear the echo of his heart breaking into a million pieces the moment you’d started crying.

Your head still fucking hurt. But this was a different throbbing than before, and was definitely from the heavy crying you’d done earlier. You groaned, covering your eyes and sniffling.

You could hear Sungchan’s breathing next to you, but he didn’t say anything as you rolled over to bury your face in his neck. Letting out a deep sigh, you found that you were dried out, unable to summon more tears. Finally, you spoke, “What time is it?”

God, your throat was dry.

“Six forty-five…” he replied softly.

“Well, Merry Christmas, Channie,” you grumbled.

“Merry Christmas, Y/N.”

“Do you think it’s too late to go see the Christmas lights?”

You could feel him tense up under you.

“Are you sure? You don’t have to make yourself do anything for me, baby,” he reassured you, rubbing your back.

“I want to…” You insisted. “I just… probably need my earplugs. And sunglasses.”

“Of course, whatever you want.”

“And then we can come back and do eggnog pancakes?” You asked hopefully. The migraine had started right before Sungchan could start cooking this morning, so you weren’t able to enjoy your promised festive breakfast prepared by your boyfriend.

“Sounds like a plan.”

“And then presents.”

“Like I said, anything my girl wants.”

And so Sungchan drove you around in his car with the radio off, your sunglasses on like it wasn’t dusk right then, and earplugs in to drown out the sounds of passing traffic. The two of you were silent through the whole ride, communicating solely by squeezing the other’s hand that was laced with yours over the center console, pointing at any lights and decorations that either of you particularly liked, and smiling and nodding in acknowledgement.

When you got back to your apartment, you took off your sunglasses and earplugs to plop yourself down at your kitchen table while Sungchan once again brought out ingredients. He hummed Christmas carols while he cooked, and you rested your cheek in your hand to watch him fondly as he bustled around.

Your head was still throbbing, and you winced as you pulled your hood up and gathered your knees to your chest. As Sungchan opened the fridge to put the eggnog away, you saw him pull something else out, a familiar box.

“When is your injection?” He asked quietly, holding the container up.

You scrunched your nose as you brought out your phone to check your calendar. “It’s… oh shit, today.”

“I’ll leave it out to warm up.” He set it on the counter before going over to your stove and setting a timer for an hour.

You were supposed to wait at least 30 minutes after the medication left the fridge to inject it, but you liked to wait closer to an hour or two to make sure it had fully come to room temperature, to reduce any injection pain.

The pancakes were ready soon, and Sungchan and you ate them on the couch, the odd bits of conversation floating around between bites.

“So what are you and your family doing tomorrow?” Sungchan rested his chin on your shoulder.

“Oh, dinner’s at my parents’ place. I’ll pop over to Chenle’s family’s Christmas, too. They’re just across the street,” you hummed. “We don’t do a lot, but everyone comes over, so it’ll be a packed house.”

“That’s nice.”

“What about you, Channie? Any Christmas traditions?”

“You’re eating it,” he said proudly. “My dad always makes eggnog pancakes on Christmas morning. Then we go to my grandparents’ house for the day.”

You couldn’t wade through the slop that your mind was covered in to be able to aptly express how you felt about Sungchan sharing one of his family’s Christmas traditions with you, so instead you turned your head to press a long kiss to his cheek, squeezing his forearm appreciatively. He seemed to get the message, and moved his head to be able to kiss you gently.

“I love you, Y/N,” he mumbled against your lips. Then, pulled back just enough to look you in the eye. “I’m so glad we got to spend today together.”

You couldn’t help but bite down on your tongue bitterly at that. “Yeah, I love you too, Channie.”

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“My stupid migraines ruined our day! Again!” You turned away from him, dropping your face in your hands.

Immediately, one of his large hands rubbed your back while his other came to rest on your knee. “Baby, baby, my day wasn’t ruined.”

“We didn’t get to do anything how we wanted, and all I did was cry and make you cry!” You felt your eyes growing wet again. “And I’m fucking crying again!”

“I really do wish you hadn’t spent all day in pain,” he admitted. “You deserve to have the perfect Christmas Eve like all the cheesy rom-coms you like. But please don’t feel like you ruined my day or anything. I spent the whole day with my girl, which is a perfect day in my book.”

You wiped at your face messily, looking over your shoulder at him. “You really mean that?”

“Of course.”

“Even though I made you cry on Christmas? …Eve?”

“Well, it wouldn’t have been fair for you to be the only one of us who did.”

That finally made you chuckle, and Sungchan gave you a soft smile in return as he pulled you into him. You wrapped your arms around his waist, enjoying his warmth.

“Thank you, my Sungchannie,” you mumbled. “For being the most wonderful boyfriend in the whole universe.”

“The whole universe?” He repeated skeptically.

“Yep. Not even a competition.”

The kitchen timer went off then, and he gave you a final shoulder squeeze and peck to your temple before standing up and heading into the kitchen. He returned with your medication and stupidly large first aid kit. Popping the first aid kit open, he dutifully started pulling out an alcohol wipe, then an antihistamine. Sungchan had been around for your last injection by happenstance, and watched your every move carefully, so you weren’t surprised that he was able to get everything ready now.

“I don’t need that unless I break out,” you tried to point out. You weren’t allergic to the medication, but sometimes you got hives around the injection site within the first day or so just from it making your skin more sensitive.

“Baby, you always break out,” he insisted, presumably remembering when you started reacting less than an hour later last time, and all your stories about other post-injection reactions.

“No, there’s been like… a couple times I haven’t.”

He pointedly set the antihistamine down with the alcohol swab, then held up the bandage options for you to choose from.

“Mm… Sanrio,” you nodded to your newest addition. “I want a Kuromi.”

He fished out a bandaid with a Kuromi pattern on it, setting it aside. You broke the seal on the medication box as Sungchan walked into the kitchen. At the sound of running water, you looked up curiously, watching as he thoroughly washed his hands to the elbow like he was about to scrub in for an operation.

As he sat back down beside you, he held out his hands. “Can I do it?”

You froze, freshly opened box in hand. In the nearly two years that you’d been taking the injectable, you’d always done it yourself. Even your first demonstration dose at your neurologist’s office you’d done on your own to learn how to operate it. It had never occurred to you to ask anybody else to, really. Technically, the directions said you could, but you lived by yourself, had always been alone.

“If you’re okay with it,” Sungchan added after a couple beats of silence. “It’s fine if you want to do it yourself. I get it. You’ve just had a really long day, I want to help.”

“They say someone else can do the back of your arm…” You looked down at the small card of directions that you picked up out of the carton, a diagram highlighting all the possible injection areas. “But I want to be able to see it. So you’ll still have to do my thigh.”

“Okay.” He nodded seriously, accepting the box as you handed it to him.

He took a moment to study the instructions very carefully, and you opened the bandage in preparation. When he set the directions down and picked up the alcohol wipe, you rolled up the leg of your shorts and readjusted in your seat.

“I usually do it here.” You pointed to a spot, and he wiped the cool material over the area thoroughly.

Next, he grabbed the auto-injector from the box, pulling the cap off the end and dropping it back in the carton. You consciously tried to level your breathing as he paused to read the directions one more time. Sungchan pinched your skin and pulled it apart until it was properly taut.

“Do you want a countdown?” He asked.

“No, but hold on, I need to relax my muscle.” You flexed and eased your thigh a couple times, letting out a deep breath. “Okay, good.”

You kept your eyes focused just off to the side of the injection—you’ve never been able to watch needles go in you that you weren’t operating yourself, but you couldn’t fully look away this time. So instead, your gaze was on Sungchan’s forearm, the auto-injector enough in your peripheral that you could tell if something were to go wrong.

He pressed the blunt plastic tip against your skin. As requested, you had no countdown before the near-simultaneous click of the pen and prick of the needle came, followed by the stinging pain of the medication being pumped into you. You let out a slight hiss, already counting in your mind. The built-in indicator that meant the injection was over was displayed on the pen already, but you noticed that Sungchan kept holding it there until you reached your fifteen-count in your head. He had remembered from when he watched you last time, and must have been counting himself. The directions said to leave it in until the indicator showed, about 15 seconds, but you always liked to count to 15 seconds just in case, something you’d mentioned off-handedly last time.

As soon as he took the injector out and tossed it in the box on the table, you watched as a dot of blood and clear fluid—medicine—welled to the surface. Sungchan rushed to pull the bandage out, applying it to the site, catching the drop just in time before it fell down your leg. He gingerly smoothed down the ends, Kuromi smirking back up at you two.

Sungchan took the empty auto-injector into your bedroom, and you heard the telltale sound of it clanking into the plastic sharps disposal bin you kept under the bathroom sink. When he came back, you were already picking up the trash and closing up the first aid kit.

“Don’t forget your antihistamine,” he reminded you, holding out the tablet and your water bottle.

With your hands full, you leaned forward to take a sip from the straw of your bottle, then opened your mouth like a baby bird for him to drop the pill into. You swallowed it with slight difficulty, but he seemed content that you’d taken it, at least.

After everything was cleaned up, you meandered back into the living room, stopping in front of the couch to inspect the injection site with a pout.

“Is everything okay, baby?” Sungchan sat forward, brow furrowed with concern.

“Hurts…” You whined, flopping down next to him. “It didn’t use to burn after like this, but ever since my neuro upped my dose last month… it hurts.”

“Aw, I’m sorry,” he pulled you closer to him with two arms around your waist.

You made a small ‘humph’ sound, habitually poking at the injection site. Ow, dumbass.

“Thank you, baby,” Sungchan mumbled into your neck. “For letting me help you.”

The genuine relief in his voice made you smile to yourself. You knew how cut up he was every time he couldn’t help during your migraines, and at first you didn’t get why he wanted to do your injection this time. After all, this was the same guy who had you come with him to get his blood drawn for his routine drug testing by disguising it as an ice cream date then suddenly remembering that he had to stop by the student health center on the way there (and jumped at your offer to come back with him to hold his hand instead of waiting in the lobby). But in his mind, doing your injection must’ve been the best he could do to help prevent you from hurting again like he’d seen today.

“Why are you the sweetest boy ever?” You whispered, kissing his hair.

Sungchan let out a muffled giggle. “Ever?”

“Ever.”

“Mm, I don’t know,” he hummed playfully. “Think I was born like this.”

“We’ve got to make sure you don’t go out in the rain, or you’ll melt,” you teased.

“I mean what I said the other day, you know. Just didn’t want to scare you… but I really do think this is the most I’ve ever loved someone. I know it hasn’t been that long, and it always feels like I’m rushing stuff with you, but it just always feels right. Everything always feels right all the time with you.”

“I knew what I was getting myself into when you said ‘I love you’ on our second date,” you reminded him, fond smile flitting across your lips.

“I thought we agreed to never talk about that again,” he grumbled.

“You’re right, I’m sorry. But you were so adorable when you tried to pretend like you didn’t.”

“You were wearing my hoodie and had whipped cream on your nose and you were just so… perfect,” he defended himself, trailing off into a dreamy sigh. He smooched your cheek loudly. “Still are.”

You laughed, squirming a little bit at the sudden attack of affection, but not moving away as he peppered more overzealous kisses to your face. You instead cradled his cheek with one of your hands.

When he’d finally stopped to rest his chin on your shoulder again, you responded a bit more seriously to him, “I love you too… a lot. I don’t really have any romantic metric, to be honest. Migraines have sort of made it hard to date… or inconvenient, at least. But you need to know that I really do love and appreciate you so, so much, my Sungchannie.”

“I know, baby, I know,” he nodded just the slightest against you, gently rocking the two of you side-to-side.

You grabbed one of his hands to play with his fingers, slightly calloused from the weightlifting you knew was part of his mandatory hockey conditioning. Hockey season was already halfway over. His last season. You couldn’t imagine Jung Sungchan not playing hockey.

“Channie?”

“My girl?”

“I know we already talked about moving in together after graduation, but… What are you going to do after hockey’s over? I kind of can’t picture you not on the ice.”

You could feel him take a deep breath, and his free hand came to join the fray as it found one of your wrists. Specifically, the one that sported a thick blue and orange paracord bracelet with five plastic alphabet beads on it—2-7-J-S-C—that every hockey player made their freshman year. Sungchan gave you his not too long ago, on your one-month anniversary.

“I don’t know,” he whispered, as if he couldn’t make himself say it any louder. “I’ve tried to think about it too and… I can’t. I’ve been playing since I was a kid. I don’t… really have anything else. Just school, hockey, and you.”

“We’ll find you a hobby or two,” you promised, squeezing his hand. “Maybe you can take piano lessons again.”

He chuckled, letting you gently curl and uncurl his crooked pinky, the one he had broken that made him stop playing in the first place. “I don’t know… I think that might be gone for me.”

“If it’s something you really liked, you should do it,” you insisted. “It would just be for fun. I think it’d be nice, if you found the right teacher.”

“Well…”

“If you want to, Channie. I’m just brainstorming here.”

“Hockey season’s not over yet,” he pointed out. “We can circle back around in the summer.”

“That’s true, that’s true,” you agreed. “You should be savoring every moment right now, not letting me make you prematurely existential. I’m sorry.”

“You’re forward-thinking, baby, I appreciate that.”

“But it’s your last season, you don’t need me reminding you of that all the time.”

“Then why are we still talking about it, hm?” He said, mischievous smile on his face.

“We’re not! We’re not!” You held your hands up in surrender. “It’s present time! I swear!”

Sungchan laughed as he leaned in to press a kiss to your temple.

“Hi, Mr. Zhong!” You were beaming as you walked into Chenle’s house the next day, immediately being wrapped in a bear hug by his dad. “Merry Christmas!”

“Y/N! It’s been too long, too long,” he complained as you went to hug your best friend next, who had also come to greet you.

“Merry Christmas, Y/N,” Chenle hugged you tightly.

“Merry Christmas, LeLe.”

Letting go of your friend, you turned back to his dad, who was still waiting for a response, his hands on his hips.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Zhong,” you bowed your head in apology. “We just get so busy with school and—”

“Yeah, Y/N’s been really busy with her new boyfriend!” Chenle announced loudly, making sure that every occupant in the whole house could hear him.

“Y/N! You have a boyfriend?!” Mrs. Zhong called from the kitchen.

“Boyfriend?!” Mr. Zhong echoed in shock, his eyes going comically wide.

You were already smacking Chenle on the head and pinching his ear furiously. “Zhong Chenle, you little— I’m going to kill you!”

Chenle jerked out of your grip and ran away, you hot on his heels. He ran right into the kitchen, where his mother and several aunties immediately swarmed you.

“Y/N!” Mrs. Zhong grasped you by the wrist, pulling you over towards the stove where several things were cooking. She grabbed a spoonful of something from a bubbling pot and held it out towards you to try. As you leaned forward to taste it, she asked, “So, who is this boyfriend Chenle is talking about?”

“Is he handsome?” Another woman asked.

“Does he hold the door open for you?”

“What’s his name?”

“Does he know how to cook?”

“Do we know him?”

“Does he have a job?”

“How did you two meet?”

“Show us a picture!”

You choked on the rather delicious spoonful of soup that you’d just taken as you heard Chenle’s cackling laughter in the background. Wiping your mouth, you turned around to shoot him a glare before answering some of their questions.

“His name is Jung Sungchan, he goes to the same college as Chenle and I. We actually all had a class together a few years ago,” you started off slowly.

“Pictures, Y/N!” One of the aunties insisted.

“Yeah, Y/N, show us pictures!” Chenle repeated. “Or I will.”

“I will end you,” you said through gritted teeth as you pulled out your phone. Flicking through your gallery, you found a few that you really liked.

They were from his last home game, and these in particular were taken by Taeyong, as it had been the game against their league rivals, which drew in the graduated Nu Chi brothers and team members. You pulled the first one up, him still in his uniform as you had gone down to congratulate him right on the ice. He was towering over you even more than normal in his skates, an arm around your shoulders as you wrapped both of yours around his waist, the two of you smiling at the camera. As you went to show the picture to everyone, your skin started growing hot with the ‘ooh’s and ‘aah’s that sprang up among the women.

“He plays hockey for our school, he’s actually captain.” You grew even more embarrassed as Mrs. Zhong zoomed in on Sungchan’s face.

“Chenle,” she looked up at her son with squinted eyes. “Is this your handsome friend who brought you home when you were drunk?”

“Mom, that was one time three years ago,” he groaned, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Chenle,” she said sternly.

“Yes, that’s him.”

Her face broke into a lovely smile. “Oh, I liked him. Very polite.”

“Yeah, I know, Mom. You still talk about it.”

“When was this?” You asked your friend with bewilderment. The two of you did everything together, including getting embarrassingly shitfaced as freshmen. Or, Chenle would get embarrassingly shitfaced and you would watch, thanks to your migraine meds.

“There was a Nu Chi party, after the Halloween one…” Chenle explained, and you appreciated him leaving out the details of the Halloween party in front of all these people. “Long story short, I didn’t realize how strong the punch was. Sungchan gave me a ride home.”

“Very polite, very handsome,” Mrs. Zhong nodded approvingly. She swiped to the next picture for you, this one of Sungchan kissing your cheek as you laughed and grabbed his jersey.

They all tittered and made various comments and approving noises, and you quickly turned your phone off and put it away bashfully.

“So, yeah… that’s him,” you finished awkwardly among their disappointed noises of you taking away the photos.

“I like him.” Chenle’s mom patted your cheek before turning back to the stove. “And if he gives you any trouble, you know Chenle will…”

“Mom did you see him? What do you think I could possibly do?” Chenle retorted. “He literally carried me in here over his shoulder, I don’t think I could really defend Y/N’s honor if it came to it!”

“Chenle…”

“Fine, Mom!”

v. i sat across from you, reading ulysses; and whilst i tried to project some intellect i’m not convinced i knew what it all meant, but i did know that the words were so pretty

“Have I ever told you how pretty you are?” Sungchan mumbled, resting his head on your shoulder.

You giggled, brushing some of his hair from his face. “Hmm, a couple times.”

“What?!” His head snapped back up, distress on his features. “Only twice?! God, what kind of boyfriend am I?”

The two of you were back in the team’s favorite dive bar, this time after the last home game of the season. It had been a smashing victory—in addition to the seniors’ last time to play a game on their home ice—meaning that everyone, including all of the long-graduated players and Nu Chi Tau brothers who had shown up, were celebrating extra hard tonight. You’d driven your car specifically to allow Sungchan to let loose for the occasion, hence his currently more-than-buzzed state.

He’d pulled you into his lap at the corner booth you were sitting at some time ago, morphing into the lovey-dovey cuddle monster that he always was when tipsy. Not that he exactly kept his hands to himself when he was sober either, but as soon as alcohol entered the equation, it was like he thought he’d die if he weren’t holding you at all times.

“I was playing, baby, you tell me that all the time,” you reassured him.

“Oh, good.” He breathed out in relief, going back to snuggling up to your shoulder. “Because you’re sooo pretty. Like, the prettiest person I’ve ever seen.”

“Thanks, Channie.” You kissed the top of his head. “I think you’re pretty, too.”

“You do?”

“For sure.” You traced the line of the bridge of his nose. “My pretty boy.”

He hummed contentedly, but didn’t say anything more, letting his eyes flutter shut.

Ten, Taeyong, and another graduated Nu Chi brother, Kun, came over to your booth then, sliding into the seat across from you.

“Is he asleep?” Taeyong gestured to Sungchan.

“No, just a cuddly drunk,” you explained with a fond chuckle.

“‘M not drunk…” Your boyfriend protested.

“Tell that to the victory shots you were doing with Hyuck, Jeno, and Yangyang an hour ago,” you snorted, pushing your glass of water over towards him. “Here, some water, Channie.”

Kun offered out the half-eaten basket of onion rings that he’d walked over with. “Have some of these, too, Sungchan.”

“Sweet, thanks!” He grabbed a couple and stuffed them in his mouth happily.

“Thanks, Kun,” you smiled at him. “He didn’t drink on an empty stomach, so we should be ready to go in a bit. I want him mostly able to walk on his own two feet before we leave, though. Carrying a drunk Chenle and drunk Sungchan would be very different experiences, I feel.”

They all snickered, and you looked over at where your friend was currently pulling all of the cash out of his pocket to bet on a pool game between Johnny, Jaehyun—a former hockey player who had graduated last year, Jungwoo, and Yuta—former hockey player and Nu Chi brother, from the same cohort as Johnny. It looked like Dejun was running the betting pool, collecting Chenle’s money in addition to Hendery’s, Mark’s, and Hyuck’s.

“I feel like we should do something about the gambling happening over there…” Taeyong sighed, having been looking in the same direction as you.

“Probably,” Kun agreed, though neither of them made any move to get up. They simultaneously took swigs of their drinks.

“Y/N, what did you think of the reading for Direct Study?” Ten asked you, resting his very pink cheek in his hand.

“Oh, I thought it was fantastic!” You lit up. You and Ten both had Dr. Son for a Direct Study course this semester, and he was letting you two collaborate since you had such similar tastes in literature—you had a feeling your professor also liked having only one reading list and being able to meet with the both of you at once instead of separately. “I’ve always loved that author, though. The way her short stories can either be a quick read or you can really sit and take your time with them to absorb and peel back as many layers as you want.”

“You’ve read her before?”

“I recommended her to Dr. Son a while ago, actually. I read another one of her short story collections and sort of fell in love. I’ve been working through her whole body of work on my own time, but I hadn’t made it to this one yet, so I’m going into it with fresh eyes like you. I’m excited to see what you’ve been getting out of her works.”

“I think her diction is really fascinating.”

“Yes!” You gushed. “You can tell she takes her time with which words she’s using. Oh, I just love it.”

“You’re doing the Master’s in Literary Theory and Critical Analysis next year, right?”

“Yep! Picked my classes a couple weeks ago.”

Your friend flashed you a wide grin. “Thank God. There will be someone else competent.”

“Yeah, I’m doing Lit and Crit, and this one—” you patted Sungchan’s head as he was still shoveling onion rings in his mouth “—is going for his PhD in molecular biology.”

“Woah.” Ten’s eyebrows shot up.

“And what are you going to do with that, Sungchan?” Taeyong asked curiously.

“Fish,” your boyfriend answered absentmindedly through a mouthful of food.

You couldn’t help but laugh with your whole chest at his answer, even as you went to cover his mouth. “Chew and swallow before you talk, Channie. I think you just spat crumbs on poor Kun.”

The older man was flicking a piece of an onion ring off of his arm, giving you a strained, close-lipped smile.

Sungchan spent a considerable amount of time chewing his food, then washed it down with your water before giving a more cognizant answer. “I’m going to study a disease in a fish.”

“Molecular biology with a minor concentration in marine biology,” you corrected yourself and clarified his answer a bit more. “He’s joining one of his professors’ research teams.”

“Congrats, Sungchan,” the former Nu Chi president told him sincerely.

“Yeah, dude, wow,” Ten blinked, laughed, then shook his head. “You know, I don’t even know if I knew what your major actually was this whole time.”

“Seriously?” You snorted. “You two have been teammates for four years, and have lived together for two years.”

“I mean, I knew he was a STEM major,” Ten tried to defend himself. “But past that… yeah, I had no clue. It’s just sort of you know, when you think of Jung Sungchan, you think of hockey. He’s the hockey captain. I mean, does anybody really know Mark’s major?”

“I—”

“Not you, Taeyong, we know he was your Little.”

You opened and closed your mouth a couple of times, but found yourself drawing a blank. After all this time of getting closer to the team, you had sort of prided yourself on being friends with and knowing all of your boyfriend’s teammates on some individual level as people. But frustratingly, all you could think up for Mark was that he was Nu Chi president, center on the hockey team, and had been in your Comp I class a few years ago—a Gen Ed credit.

“Well damn,” you said bitterly.

“Exactly.”

After a beat, Taeyong spoke up quietly, “Music Theory. He likes producing music.”

Ten, Sungchan, and you all let out a chorus of ‘ohh’s at this revelation. You looked over at where Mark was spectating the pool game—from a vantage point of leaning tipsily against Johnny’s side when he wasn’t shooting, and against Jaehyun’s side when Johnny was shooting. You watched with amusement as he got passed back and forth, happy to see him being taken care of for once instead of taking care of all his friends.

“I should go swap out my Little’s drink for some water,” Taeyong announced. It was then that Hyuck must have made some comment to Mark, as Mark shoved his friend away with a loud complaint, his tone sounding rather embarrassed. “And my grand-little too…”

Dejun, Hendery, and Chenle were spectating their drunken spat in fits of giggles. Dejun and Hendery both reached for their drinks again, and Kun shook his head.

“I should do the same for my own demons before they get to that point,” Kun stood up with Taeyong.

Ten followed them out, “And I’m not going to third wheel. Bye, you two!”

“Bye, guys,” you gave the three of them farewells. “Congrats again, Ten.”

“Thanks, Y/N,” he beamed down at you genuinely.

“Oh, Kun!” You called for him before he could get out of earshot.

He stopped a turned to you with an inquisitive eyebrow raised.

“Thanks for the onion rings, by the way.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I have one more favor to ask: Can you cut Chenle off too?” You requested. “And I’m not sure how you all are sorting out DDs tonight, but—”

“I’ll make sure he gets home safe,” he promised. “You two have a goodnight.”

“Thanks. Goodnight!”

Looking between Sungchan and the empty onion ring basket, you then checked the time on your phone.

“Alright, are you ready to go, baby?” You asked him quietly.

He nodded with his whole upper body. “Am I going home with you?”

“Yep. I’m taking you back to my place, and our classes all got canceled tomorrow for Spring Break, remember?” You shouldered your tote bag. “So we get to sleep in.”

“That’s my favorite thing.”

You giggled. “Sleeping in?”

“No, waking up with you,” he wrapped both his arms around your waist again. “And giving you a good morning kiss, and cooking breakfast for you, and helping you with your meds and your cuff.”

“I have a feeling I’ll be getting you meds in the morning tomorrow,” you quipped, pecking his forehead. “But I think mornings with my Sungchannie are one of my favorite things, too.”

“Sounds like a perfect match to me.”

“Hard to argue you with you there,” you snickered. “So are you ready to go? The sooner we go home and go to sleep, the sooner it’ll be morning, you know.”

“You’re so smart, baby. My girl’s the smartest ever…”

Pushing yourself out of his lap, you pulled him out of the booth after you and onto his feet. He immediately looped his arm around your shoulders, and you kept a hand on his chest and an arm around his waist to steady him as you started towards the exit. At the door, the two of you stopped to give the whole bar a final wave and call goodbye to anybody who heard you. You got a loud, raucous chorus of yelled and slurred goodbyes in return before you headed out to your car.

Back at your apartment, you made him change out of his clothes that smelled like the bar and into some of his that he kept here, then got into your own pajamas for the night before flopping into bed.

“Okay, question,” you announced as he laid his head in your lap, throwing an arm across your legs as if you were going anywhere.

“About?” He asked, his eyes fluttering shut and a content smile coming to his face as you started playing with his hair.

“How do you think you made it to the top two in Phantasmagorical Phriday this year? I mean, I’ve been thinking about it, and I’m not trying to be mean, Channie, or like, a Lit major elitist or anything, but Chenle and I have both been studying this stuff for four years now, right? Hendery has at least taken professional writing classes and some other stuff for his Comm degree. I think. But, no offense, you STEM majors aren’t exactly lauded for your excellent prose. First year, okay, we’re all brand new at it, and Dr. Son actually did real workshopping with us on it. But after that, we were essentially just getting coffee together once a month and then sending him a short story.”

He squinted one eye open to peer up at you curiously. “Do you think I bought off Dr. Son or something?”

“Bought off our professor so that you would almost win? Sounds like a waste of your money. Maybe bought off Chenle and Hendery to write shitty stories this year and better your chances? But you knew I was so morally upstanding that I wouldn’t take the bribe.”

“Oh, definitely. You’ve cracked it,” he snickered, closing his eyes again to enjoy your fingers working through his hair.

“I mean… Do you have a secret poetry journal in here somewhere?”

“No. You just kind of are being a little bit of a—” he was cut off by a loud yawn “—Lit major elitist, baby.”

“Mm?” You tilted your head with a confusion, perturbed frown on your face.

“You think that every STEM major just gets their Gen Ed humanities credits and never picks up a book again for the rest of their life.”

“Well…”

“Am I wrong?”

“It’s not like I’m out here balancing equations for fun!” You tried to defend yourself. “I got my science credits and never looked back.”

“I took a few more creative writing and literature classes sometimes,” he shrugged. “Whenever I had a spare slot in my schedule, or needed a couple credits of whatever to keep my scholarship for the semester.”

“Yeah, student athletes, you guys have to be full-time in order to keep your scholarships.”

“Mhm. Sometimes all the classes I needed for my degree that were happening in a semester didn’t uhm, didn’t make the minimum credits, so I needed another class or two.”

“Why lit classes? And writing classes?”

“Baby, it’s literally what you’ve been studying for four years and you’re acting like you can’t understand why anybody would be interested in it,” Sungchan pointed out, pinching your thigh.

You swatted his hand away. “No, I’m just trying to understand you.”

“Did I really act like I hated Dr. Son’s class that much freshman year? I did all four years of Phantasmagorical Phriday.”

“No, you didn’t seem like you hated it or anything. I just thought that you would’ve used the extra slots for easy classes. PE or something.”

“Yeah, Coach was always trying to get me to take his classes.”

“But you just really like writing and lit classes that much?”

“Why is this so surprising to you?”

“Well— I just kind of feel bad that I keep leaving you out of all the crit lit conversations that Ten and I have,” you admitted guiltily, not intending to leave him out of all your fun conversation with his teammate about books in your lit classes, but he never seemed all that interested; nor had he read any of the books, to your knowledge. “Do you want to borrow books or read along so you can talk with us about it?”

“That’s okay, baby,” he told you, reaching up to pat your hands that were already on top of his head. “Honestly, I like listening to you talk about all this stuff more than I ever liked the classes themselves.” After a beat, he absentmindedly added, “I would kind of pick them half-hoping you had signed up for the class, too.”

You tilted your head curiously. “Really?”

“It was more like a little daydream that I had. That I’d walk in on the first day of class and you’d be sitting there and recognize me and smile at me and ask if I wanted to sit with you. Then, you know, we’d swap notes, be study buddies, and I would finally get the courage to ask you out,” Sungchan sighed, nuzzling his cheek against your thigh in an almost nostalgic and bittersweet way.

“Channie…”

“That was really embarrassing to admit. I thought I was going to die without telling anybody that, especially you,” he mumbled, his voice becoming more muffled as he turned his head to fully bury his face in your lap.

“You are a bit tipsy, baby,” you reminded him gently, stroking the back of his head.

He turned onto his back to fully look up at you, taking a slow blink before adding emphatically, “And I just love you so much.”

You grabbed him by the sides of the face to look him in the eye very seriously, but couldn’t hold it for very long, tender smile coming back to your features almost immediately.

“I love you too,” you affirmed, and he was once again beaming, grabbing your hand to presumably kiss your knuckles, but he missed a bit and kissed the back of your wrist instead. “Can I ask you something?”

“Of course! Anything for my girl.”

“Your girl wants to know…” You said your words slowly and enunciated to make sure he understood. “On the first day of Dr. Son’s class, do you remember how you felt about me then?”

Specifically, you were thinking about the second game of the season, when you’d learned about Hendery and Chenle’s bet from freshman year. Hendery swore he could tell Sungchan had a crush on you from the first day of Dr. Son’s class, but you had your doubts. Mostly because you yourself couldn’t even remember looking at Sungchan on the first day of class, much less even talking or, God forbid, flirting with him—literally anything that would warrant him apparently outwardly crushing on you.

His face immediately scrunched up. “Mmm…”

“It’s okay baby, I know it was a long time ago, and you’ve had a bit to drink—”

“No, I remember, I remember. I’m just afraid you’re going to think I’m a creep…”

“More of a creep than signing up for classes in my major hoping I was going to be in them?”

“I’m sorry!” He rushed to apologize, his features immediately turning distraught as he half-sat up in his haste to say sorry.

“Shh, shh, my Sungchannie, it’s okay, it’s okay,” you quieted him, squeezing his hand that he was still holding and stroking his forehead, encouraging him to lay down again. “I was just teasing you, I’m sorry, that was mean of me. I think it’s cute, I promise.”

“You think I’m cute?” He asked with a heavy pout.

“Baby boy, I’m in love with you. Of course I think you’re cute.”

The corners of his mouth pulled back into a small smile. “Yay…”

“So? Will you please tell me?”

“M’kay…” He huffed and readjusted again, this time to rest some of his weight on his shoulder as his head was still pillowed in your lap. “I remember everything about that first class, you know? The room number, where we were all sitting, the Phantasma Phour…”

“Really?”

“Third flour, 3104.”

“I thought Gothic Lit was on the second floor?”

“It was on the third floor only for the first week then it got moved to the second floor for the rest of the semester.”

“Huh. Good memory.”

“I remember because the third floor of the Lang building is always super hot, but I didn’t know that because it was our first day. I wore my new hoodie from the team because I was so proud to be on the team, but I didn’t have another shirt on under it because I heard the Science building was always cold from some other Bio majors, so I thought I wasn’t going to have to take it off. So when we were in Dr. Son’s class that first day, I couldn’t take the hoodie off, even though it was like a billion degrees in that room…”

“Oh, oh no, Channie.” You attempted to coo sympathetically through your chuckles.

Sungchan sighed, pulling your hand back to his hair. “Anyway, Dr. Son had us in that Socratic circle, remember?”

“Yep, I remember.” You nodded, obliging to his whims easily and playing with his hair again.

“I was right next to the door, because I just wanted to get in and out of there. Hendery ran in a couple minutes late, and he ended up next to me. You and Chenle sat together at the front, a few seats away from Dr. Son’s desk, right next to the window. I just remember thinking that you were really pretty, with the window kind of giving you this little halo of light.”

“Baby, how is that creepy?” You chuckled. “You thought I was pretty.”

“You don’t remember what happened in the rest of that first class, do you?”

“What? What happened?”

“Dr. Son had us do an icebreaker with a partner…” He trailed off leadingly.

“Channie, I’ve taken so many of Dr. Son’s classes at this point, I can’t even remember who I was paired up with for that one,” you tried to reassure him.

“It was me.”

“Oh.”

“So not only was I a sweaty mess in that hoodie, but I had to be a sweaty mess while talking to this really pretty girl.”

“Channie…” You looked down at him, guilty for not remembering this at all. Though maybe it was for the better if he was apparently such a mess? Maybe that would soothe his distress over “embarrassing” himself in front of you.

“I thought Dr. Son was going to have us ask the normal stuff, name, major, year, you know. But it was Dr. Son, so of course it wasn’t normal.”

“Of course.”

“He made us ask all that, and made us ask each other something we were afraid of, and something we wanted. It wasn’t going to be shared with the class, just with our partner. I didn’t want to embarrass myself in front of you, pretty girl that I knew nothing about other than your name, that you were a freshman, and a Lit major. I really wanted to impress you, but I couldn’t come up with anything super deep. Do you know what I said?”

“No…” You confessed, tone already apologetic as you held his gaze. “I’m so sorry, baby, I don’t remember any of this.”

“S’okay…” He yawned again. “I said the truth. I was afraid of not being as good at hockey as I thought I was, and that I wanted to be team captain one day.”

“Those were good answers. It was the truth, not some philosophical lie. And look at you now, baby boy,” you told him strongly, patting his chest before going back to stroking his head.

“Mm… Back then you just kind of had this look on your face that wasn’t really dislike or even boredom or anything but just sort of like… that was exactly what you were expecting me to say. I felt like I’d just put myself into the dumb, self-centered, sports-obsessed jock archetype in your mind and I’d never be able to get out. Because then you answered and I wanted to smack myself for giving such stupid answers and wearing that stupid hoodie.”

“What did I say?”

“You were afraid of what the outcome of your brain MRI was going to be. And you wanted to hurt less.”

Your jaw dropped in mortification. “Oh my god… Sungchan, I’m so sorry I just dumped all that on you literally the first time we met. I…I had a lot going on then, with my migraines. I had just started seeing my neuro like a month before classes started, she ordered the MRI as a just in case thing, but it still made me so freaked. My appointment to go over the results was after my classes that day, I literally couldn’t think about anything else. All I remember about the first day of freshman year is that appointment, getting the clean results. Holy shit, don’t tell me I dropped that on you and left you hanging about whether or not I was fine?”

“When I saw you on Wednesday actually laughing and smiling with Chenle, I was hopeful. I didn’t want to ask you in case it wasn’t good, though, and you were just trying to distract yourself or something. So I caught up to Chenle after class a while later and asked him. After Dr. Son started the Phantasma Phour stuff. He didn’t tell me about your migraines, just said that the results were clean.”

“Ah, Channie… None of that was creepy.” You promised sweetly, pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“This is the creepy part…” He mumbled, gaze turning downwards. “Jeno saw me when I was talking to Chenle and invited me to the Nu Chi Halloween party that year, Chenle too. And Chenle brought you, and you got a migraine.”

“I didn’t realize you were there too. Did you see me screaming my head off?”

“No. I was trying to keep Jeno distracted.”

“Jeno?” You echoed, confused.

“Jeno said in the locker room…” Another yawn. He rubbed his eye. “He said he invited Chenle because he knew Chenle was going to bring you, and he wanted to sleep with you. But he didn’t think you would’ve come if he had invited you himself.”

You pursed your lips thoughtfully at this new revelation. “Huh…”

“I was keeping Jeno distracted with beer pong and stuff, but he finally slipped away, I guess at the same time you got your migraine. When he told me the next day that he was giving up on fucking you because you’d punched him in the face and he ‘knew better than to stick his dick in crazy,’ I thought you decked him for coming onto you and just admired you even more.”

“Not quite,” you laughed, remembering the bloody nose he’d nursed all night in the same room that you were nursing your migraine and Chenle sobered up. “But this story does add a whole new layer to my friendship with Jeno… Does Chenle know about this?”

“I don’t think so. Or Jeno would have gotten his nose broken again, right?”

“Probably.”

“Are you mad?”

“What would I be mad about? You having a crush on me? Our mutual friend wanting to fuck me one time three years ago?” You snorted, cupping his cheeks to get him to roll over and look at you again. “Baby, the only person I could possibly be upset with here is myself for not even giving you a second look in that class three years ago. Because then I could’ve had my Sungchannie this whole time.”

“Noooo…” He whined, shaking his head zealously. “I should’ve actually done something instead of just pining like a loserboy.”

“But you’re my loserboy now.”

His eyes widened. “You think I’m a loser?”

“Of course. My prettiest, cutest, sweetest, loveliest—” you punctuated each adjective with a kiss to his nose “—loserboy that I love so much.”

“I love you, baby.”

“I love you too.” You smiled down at him. “Now, I think that’s plenty of tipsy confessions for one night. It’s time for you to sleep, my Sungchannie.”

As you started readjusting to lay down next to him on the mattress, he grabbed you and pulled you into his chest like a teddy bear.

“You didn’t want to, right?” His voice was right under your ear.

“What?”

“Sleep with Jeno?”

You lowered your voice conspiratorially, “I’m going to tell you a secret: I couldn’t tell any of the Nu Chi guys apart for the longest time. Didn’t even know Jeno’s name until I broke his nose. To me, they were all just gross frat guys who probably didn’t know how to wash their dicks.”

“Should’ve kept it that way,” he grumbled, holding you even tighter.

“Oh? You want me to unlearn all of our friends and acquaintances names?” You teased, wrapping one of your arms around him too.

“Can you?” He asked hopefully.

“Not quite how it works, I’m afraid,” you clicked your tongue. At his tipsy whines starting back up again, you hushed him once more, “Shh, it’s okay. I might know all their names, but none of them get to be baby boy.”

“Oh. Yeah.” He agreed, and you could hear the smug smile in his voice.

“You need anything else from your girl? Or will you finally let her sleep?”

“Kiss?”

“Of course.”

Tilting your head up, you pressed your lips to Sungchan’s. He hummed contentedly against your mouth, unhurried in his motions as he met your every move. You sleepily kissed him, entirely unaware of time, but finally pulling back when your lids were getting too heavy to properly open back up. Blindly giving one more kiss to the corner of his mouth—it felt more like the side of his bottom lip, honestly—you settled your head back on his chest.

“There you go, Channie.” You yawned, pushing your face further into him. “Goodnight… I love you.”

“Goodnight, baby,” he was mumbling too, presumably also on the brink of falling asleep. “Love… you…”

vi. whilst i make space for all the parts of me that i do not want, i let them be, as minds twist through the fractured expanse of our being

“Okay, thank you,” you forced a casual nod to your doctor as she entered in a few more things on her computer.

“The ladies up front will schedule everything when you check out,” she offered you a kind smile. “Do you have any more questions for me today, Y/N?”

“No, no, just uh… need to get everything scheduled, you know.”

“Alright, well it was good to see you as always,” she stood up, leading you towards the door of the exam room. “And I’ll see you again soon. Have a good day.”

“You too.”

You went through the motions of checking out and scheduling, adding the next appointments to your phone calendar with the receptionist at the front desk, then shuffled out to the parking lot. Your mind was still reeling as you got into the passenger seat of Sungchan’s car.

“Hey, how’d it go?” He turned in his seat to ask you. It was just one of your normal check-ups with your neurologist today, and with the hockey season over, Sungchan had the time to take you to and from the appointment, promising to take you out for dinner after. You didn’t have much of an appetite anymore.

Your gaze was locked on the dashboard in front of you. Your jaw clenched as you tried to battle back the tears that threatened to well up and just answer him.

“They’re getting worse again. Increase in- in frequency and severity,” you finally choked out. “My neuro wants to get a blood panel and brain MRI done again. She says we probably just need to adjust my meds again but—”

“A brain MRI?” Sungchan echoed in disbelief.

“Make sure there’s nothing in there that’s not supposed to be in there. It’s always clean, but every single time, the what if… it’s scary,” you admitted, your voice getting smaller as the tears finally came, spilling over onto your cheeks and down into your lap.

“Oh… oh baby,” his voice softened as he reached over to take your hand.

“And even if everything, all of that fucking shit is clean. It just means that my stupid fucking meds have stopped working and my stupid fucking body isn’t working like it’s supposed to and I have to do it all over again. Trying out more medications that’ll do God fucking knows what to me until we find the new perfect concoction that keeps me a semi-functioning person. God dammit!” You spat out, slamming your other hand down in a fist against the dash. “Ow, fuck, that hurt. God, fucking stupid…”

Sungchan grabbed both your hands with one of his, keeping them in your lap as he wiped at your tears with his free hand. “Baby, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry,” you blubbered. “That you got me and that I’m—”

“Stop it,” he cut you off sternly, with the harshest tone he’d ever taken with you. “Don’t you dare start apologizing for this. I wouldn’t let anybody else talk about you like that around me, and you’re not going to either.”

“God, yeah, okay,” you nodded and sniffled. “Thanks, Channie.”

“When is it? The MRI?”

“I-I have it in my calendar somewhere.”

“I’ll go with you,” he promised, cradling your chin in his palm to get you to look at him. “Whenever it is, I’ll go with you. And when you go get the results, okay? Car, waiting room, exam room, wherever you want me, alright? But you won’t be alone.”

You bit your bottom lip, squeezing his hand tight with both of yours. “I’d really like that. Thank you.”

He leaned across the center console to press a kiss to your forehead. “Anything for my girl.”

➠ next | series masterlist | blog masterlist

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bratzforchris · 2 months

Note

Hello! Would you be okay with writing a fix about Johnnie dating a famous singer and they make an appearance on one of his videos/streams just for something cute? Thank you I hope you’re doing well!

Can't Help Falling In Love

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ

Summary: A Saturday morning stream turns into a mini concert for you and Johnnie

Pairing: Johnnie x feminine and singer!reader

Warnings: Tooth rooting fluff None!

Word Count: 776

A/N: Thank you for the request! Also, this is my favorite picture of Johnnie ever OOO WAH AH AH AH AH

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ

“Fucking hell! What the fuck?”

You chuckled as you listened to Johnnie cursing at the computer from his streaming room upstairs. You were in the kitchen, pouring yourself a cup of coffee and enjoying the rainy morning. You’d been in the studio late last night, recording tracks for your upcoming album. You had wanted to stay in bed with your boyfriend all morning, sleeping the day away, but Johnnie had promised his followers that he would stream this morning, and you knew you couldn’t take him away from his career.

And so, you shot him a quick ‘Can I join?’ text, both because you missed your lover and because you were curious to see what in the world he was yelling about. Johnnie texted you back almost immediately, telling you to come on up. Even though you were in your pajamas, you practically raced up the stairs. You loved being involved in Johnnie’s streams, mostly because you two would either play silly games, or either making one of Johnnie’s video essays and laughing at the crazy people.

“Hey babe!” he exclaimed as soon as you opened the door.

The chat immediately exploded when you came into the frame. You chuckled, smiling and sitting down on your boyfriend’s lap as you kissed his cheek. The fans immediately in ‘AWWWWW’ and things of that nature. You were very lucky in the sense that both your and Johnnie’s fans were extremely supportive of your relationship and you didn’t have to hide it on social media or from the paparazzi.

“When does the new album come out, Y/N?” You read aloud. “That, my friend, is a secret.” You giggled.

Johnnie blushed, kissing your cheek. “They adore you.”

“I adore you,” You snaked your hand around the nape of Johnnie’s neck, kissing him softly. “Now, what the hell were you screaming about?” You laughed.

“This fucking game,” Johnnie gestured towards his computer, where some kind of horror game was pulled up. “It’s rigged.”

“I’m sure it is.” You hummed sarcastically, cuddling into his chest.

Your boyfriend eyed the chat as it raced with cute, supportive things for you two and gifts flooded the screen until one comment caught his eye.

“Do a duet,” he read. “Well, you guys have to ask Y/N if she’s up to singing. She was in the studio late last night.”

You let the fans go crazy for a moment before speaking. “I think that would be fun.” You giggled.

You stood up off Johnnie’s lap, allowing him to grab his iconic painted card guitar. Since Johnnie’s guitar would be in his lap, you pulled another chair into the frame, sitting down into it and smiling. Even though you were in a messy bun and no makeup with Jack Skellington pants and Johnnie was also in pajamas, you knew the following clips would probably go viral. You didn’t mind, though. You loved this boy with your whole heart, and this was love in its purest form. Just you two, the people that supported you, and your shared love of music.

“Should we sing our song for them?” Johnnie asked, sitting down in his streaming chair once again and tuning his guitar softly.

You nodded happily as Johnnie began to softly strum the chords to ‘Can’t Help Falling In Love’. As you began to sing, everything else faded away, and it was just you and Johnnie, looking into each other’s eyes as he played and you sang.

“Cause I can’t help falling in love with you,” You hit a high note as he strummed the last chord and then happily smiled. “There you go, guys. I hope you enjoyed that.”

Despite being an extremely famous singer, your cheeks were still flushed red when singing for the chat, but as soon as you saw the outpouring of love, all the embarrassment faded away. You loved Johnnie, he loved you, and the fans were happy for you both. The screen filled with gifts from viewers again, and you moved into Johnnie’s lap, kissing him softly and sensually.

“Well guys, I hate to end the stream, but I gotta go hang out with my girl. Maybe I can convince her to make waffles.” Johnnie chuckled.

“You don’t need to convince me. I’ll be waiting downstairs.” You stood up off Johnnie’s lap and pecked his cheek, waving goodbye to the stream.

Your heart was practically exploding with love for your boyfriend as you wandered to the kitchen, but you couldn’t say that you were mad about it. if anything, it would make great content for your next album, and Johnnie couldn’t say he would be mad about being your muse.

#johnnie guilbert #johnnie guilbert fanfiction #johnnie guilbert smut #johnnie guilbert fic #johnnie guilbert fluff #johnnie guilbert fanfic #jake webber fanfiction #jake webber fanfic #jake webber smut #jake webber fluff #jake webber #jake and johnnie #the tinas #tara yummy #fanfic #johnnie and jake #youtubers

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cosmicstarlatte · 1 year

Text

Reality Show (Obey Me!)

━━━━━━━━━━ ✦ ━━━━━━━━━━

Diavolo convinces Lucifer to have him & his brothers do a new demon reality show that revolves around their everyday lives.

»Characters: Demon Bros // ->[Click here for Part 2: Dateables]

»Tags: LUCIFER CAUGHT IN 4K, Shitpost/Humor, Mentions of reader/MC, Husbando Beel Supremacy, Bulleted Style

»Notes: CM = Crew Member ;; Sorry I was gonna upload this sooner but wanted to draw art for it. xD

Lucifer:

"Okay that's enough, go somewhere else."

CM: "We can't, you agreed to this under contract"

sighs

Mildly regretted his loyalty to Diavolo, otherwise he would've never done this

His camera crew was always on edge with him

The show stressed him more than usual

Perhaps there were a few embarrassing moments he would prefer not to talk about

Like pushing a door that said pull, forgetting the word spoon and calling it a tiny bowl on a stick

[Camera peeks through Lucifer's study, recording a smiling Lucifer texting on his phone]

CM: "Who were you texting Lucifer? Was it ___? There's been rumors..."

"I was checking the weather."

CM: "You take selfies for the weather?"

Mammon:

"Hey wait stop recordin' this! Not that what we are doin' is illegal!"

His camera crew had a rough time with him

But it made for good television!

He talked shit about Lucifer the most

"Yeah a lotta people dunno this, but Lucifer cries to me all the time! What can I say, I'm a reliable guy!"[Crew zooms in on an unamused Lucifer in the background]

[Cut to Mammon hanging from the ceiling]

"Can someone get me down from here!? HEY! WHERE ARE YOU GUYS GOIN'!?"

A lot of the crew's clips had shaky movement from running due to multiple mammon situations

They got a great swoon-worthy shot of Mammon gazing lovingly at you

CM: "Maybe you should confess?"

"I'm confessin' to nothin'! Talk to my lawyer!"

CM: "That's not what we- Nevermind."

Levi:

"I already stream online so this isn't any different."

lol

Levi didn't realize they'd be watching his every move

How was he suppose to worship his shrine of Ruri and you in front of them!?

His camera crew couldn't stop cringing around the otaku

it was uncomfortable for everyone

[Camera films secret sweet moment of him awkwardly practicing asking if you want to hang out]

He asked for it to be deleted, it was denied

However his ratings shot up after that clip and the next one:

CM: "Do you have a crush on ___?"

"W-what!? N-no!!! (Incoherent Levi noises and he trips)"

That clip became a viral meme for weeks

I'm talking remixes and everything

In the end his camera crew actually did have a lot of fun with him and they game online together now

Satan:

"Watch your step. Oh, don't touch that!"

His camera crew had a difficult time with him

He managed to avoid them frequently so he wasn't overly present in the show, much to the annoyance of Lucifer and the others

If they did catch him, all the clips looked the same, all he did was read

They did manage to catch him feeding some stray devildom kitties

[Camera zooms in on him in his room with a collared cat on his lap]

CM: "I thought you couldn't have pets?"

"It's not mine. Clearly, I can't control what comes in my room as of late."

CM: "It has a collar?"

"Next question."

CM: "What can you tell us about the Anti-Lucifer League?"

"I don't know what you're talking about. Next question."

CM: "Okay... viewers want to know what's up with you and ___?"

[Satan opens a book and gets sucked in]

Asmo:

"It's like, Devilgram Live, but longer!"

Most unbothered out of everyone

He did get annoyed when they tried to catch him before he could start his morning beauty routine

He was scary, they caught it on camera...it was the only time the crew deleted a clip on a brothers request

Overall his crew had an easy time, it was standard to what they normally do, Asmo himself was fun

He was a natural, of course everyone loved him, who wouldn't?

Was the one to start drama for the sake of tv

Nothing too crazy just messed with Luci's schedule, got Mammon arrested, hid Levi's Ruri body pillow, little things really!

[Camera catches Asmo cuddling next to you]

CM: "You seem very fond of them!"

"I am! Oh maybe we can do like a one year WEDDING special later on!?"

Beel:

"Just don't get in my way I guess."

He wasn't really on board with the idea but not much he could do

His crew had an average time with him, he was easy and chill to film

They caught him doing a lot of activities like, cooking/baking, sports, gaming, it was surprising to viewers

His work out clips got a lot of views too, he was a busy demon

They filmed him helping around the house, even cleaning your room and leaving you little gift snacks

CM: "Wow, snacks? You must really like ___!"

"Yeah. I love them. I want to give them the world."He confidently admitted, smiling brightly

Had high ratings in the polls, the show gave everyone a new perspective of him who wasn't just a gluttonous beast

Belphie:

CM: "Is he breathing?"

"Zzz..."

The crew had an easy but boring time with him

There's only so many hours of a sleeping Belphie you can record

The were some soft serene moments with him,Beel and you, gazing at the stars

[Camera catches him sleeping, smiling and mumbling something about you]

CM (poking): "Belphie wanna share what you were dreaming about? We heard you call their name. "

"Only if the network agrees to air it unfiltered. It will be very descriptive."

CM:

CM: "That's a wrap guys."

⬦You might also like: MC's Livestream

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me shitpost #obey me humor #obey me headcanons #obey me hcs #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me fic #obey me crack #obey me imagines #◇˖・ﾟ— › cosmic obey me . ⊹#shitpostcifer

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saigethearies · 9 months

Text

(fem!reader, mentions of insecurity and self-consciousness)

sometimes you felt as if your boyfriend iwaizumi’s friends didn’t like you.

they always seemed to…laugh whenever you were around. you weren’t sure what was funny to them exactly but you couldn’t fight the feeling that you were the one being looked at as a joke.

you had begun to avoid being around iwa whenever you knew he was with his friends because you just couldn’t help how self-conscious you were becoming around them.

one friday afternoon, however, you found yourself heading towards the gymnasium. your boyfriend had promised a boba date once he was done with practice. he should be the only one left, since oikawa and him started to take turns on who was gonna stay longer to finish locking up.

“haji bear!” you chimed happily, almost skipping into the gym you were so excited.

unfortunately, instead of your boyfriend, you were met with the sound of someone snorting in amusement.

“haji bear?” makki questions between chuckles, mattsun and oikawa also bursting out into laughs beside him. “he actually lets you call him that?”

you shrunk in on yourself, that familiar sensation of insecurity swirling in the pits of your stomach. you hadn’t even been there for more than fifteen seconds and they were already laughing at you. again.

“what other pet names do you have for him? hajikins? haji pie?” mattsun asks, continuing off of the bit makki started.

“please, gentlemen, im sure she’s more creative than that,” oikawa said. “she probably has some nice rhyming ones that iwa-chan just loves.”

their chorus of chortles increased in volume, and you stood there feeling like a stupid and silly girl.

until they heard a small sniffle and every single one of them went silent.

the three men began to watch on as your eyes got glassy, shoulders starting to slightly shake.

“why do you guys- sniffle- always have to make fun of me?”

finally voicing the thought you’d kept to yourself for weeks had your tears streaming down your cheeks, eyes squeezed shut as little sobs left you.

that’s when the expressions on your onlookers faces turned into ones of horror.

you heard three bodies shuffling towards you, a pair of hands coming to rest on your shoulders and panicked voices sounding off around you.

“it’s not like that! we swear! we’d never try to make fun of you!”

“makki’s right! we’d never purposely make a sweet thing like yourself upset! promise!”

the hands on your shoulders gave a small squeeze. “what mattsun said, we weren’t trying to offend you, cutie! we just think it’s so funny someone as bubbly as you is dating someone as grumpy as our-“

“what the actual hell is going on here?”

the trio surrounding you froze, and everyone turned to look at iwaizuimi, signature scowl present on his face.

at the sight of tears on your face and the deer-in-headlights look all of his friends sported, however, his scowl nearly became a snarl.

“what did you three dumbasses do to her?”

oikawa released his hold on your shoulders immediately, having more familiarity with iwa’s wrath than anyone else. “just a little misunderstanding! that’s all!”

your boyfriend walked forwards, pulling you away from his teammates so that he could tuck you safely into his side. he immediately felt you hold onto his arm, small sniffles still being heard.

“and what exactly was this ‘misunderstanding’?”

“we heard her refer to you as haji bear and we laughed because we thought it was funny! that’s all!” makki answered in a rush, hands coming up as if in surrender.

“we weren’t intentionally trying to hurt her feelings, iwa, swear,” mattsun added.

“but we understand how our actions came across and take full accountability for accidentally bringing tears to eyes of lady iwa-chan!”

oikawa sounded out of breath by the time he was done talking, trying to come about the situation in the most emotionally intelligent way that he could to avoid getting smacked in the back of the head.

iwa regarded all of his friends carefully, each of them still looking incredibly nervous. he then turned his gaze to you, eyes meeting your still watery ones staring back up at him.

“they telling the truth, doll?”

you gave a small nod. “yeah, that’s pretty much what happened. i…i believe what they’re saying.”

you heard the three of them all sigh in relief. was your haji bear really that scary to them?

“we’re really sorry we upset you!”

“we weren’t making fun of you, pinky promise.”

“we just always find it funny how someone as sunny as you is doting on our grumpy iwa-chan.”

you gave them a small smile, a weight lifting off your shoulders now that you finally understood what was always so humorous to them. “apology accepted.”

you heard your boyfriend huff. “i guess it’s easy to judge my relationship when none of you have your own to worry about.”

the look of offense that flashed across the three faces in front of you almost had you laughing.

long story short, iwaizumi doesn’t let anyone mess with you.

not even his best friends.

#iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi hajime x reader #hajime iwaizumi #hajime iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi fluff #haikyuu x reader

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tqavaaas · 3 months

Text

𐙚˙✧˖°📷 ༘ ⋆｡ ˚ .ᐟ [THE STRONGEST]

༊*·˚ ୧ ‧₊˚ ☾ ༘

·.𐙚 ༉‧ 五条悟

𝖲𝖴𝖬𝖬𝖠𝖱𝖸 ┊ 𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘮 𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘤 𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘨𝘰𝘫𝘰

𝖶𝖠𝖱𝖭𝖨𝖭𝖦𝖲 ┊ 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘢 𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘵, 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘧𝘧 & 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵

𝖯𝖠𝖨𝖱𝖨𝖭𝖦𝖲 ┊ 𝘎𝘰𝘫𝘰 𝘹 𝘧𝘦𝘮!𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

BLOGS WHO DO NOT ALLOW MINORS TO INTERACT ARE NOT ALLOWED TO LIKE MY POSTS.

#1 ::

You were a 3rd year teacher at Toyko Jujutsu high. Recently, two of your students had been suspended; gojo couldn’t miss that opportunity.

“Nice going, [name]” he mocked in a sarcastic tone, a toothy grin rested on his face—sitting on your desk making all sorts of expressions.

“I’d rather have my students suspended than executed.” You retorted with a hum, deciding to take a seat next to your boyfriend. Gojo was quick to take your hand in his.

“Itadori is loads of fun!” He mumbled; A soft chuckle escaped your lips as you held his hand.

#2 ::

You were out with gojo and the first years: Megumi, Nobara, and Itadori.

Nobara, itadori and gojo were all admiring something—you had no idea what is was. While you and megumi were seated on a bench nearby.

“How can you handle Gojo?” Megumi asked in a monotone, his expression was filled with boredom as he checked his phone several times. “I can hardly see someone as calm as you with someone as.. chaotic as gojo.” He added with a frown.

“I’ve known him since we were first years, I guess I just learned how to calm him down over time.” You said with a smile, leaning back on the bench.

“You should teach me th-“ megumi spoke, but was quickly cut off by gojos loud scream of your name.

“babe, I just found this stand with really good kikufuku, try some!” He said, handing you a piece as he happily munched on his own piece.

#3 ::

Megumi was practicing on a field in the outskirts of the city, you were watching him and giving him some pointers.

“Were you about to summon mahoraga?” You said, brows furrowing, glancing at the way his hands are positioned.

“possibly.” Megumi said, a slightly rasp voice as his hands were now in his pockets. You chuckled at his words. But the warming scene had shifted when a loud thud caught you off guard.

“Volcano head?” Megumi said confused, you shook your head.

“No, this one seems stronger than that one.” You responded, your stance quickly changed into a battle stance. “Megumi, go get help.” You ordered, he didn’t bother responding and quickly went off.

“I’ve seen you around with gojo before.” The cursed spirit said, eying your every move. “I guess you could be my one way ticket to gojo.”

The cursed spirit had an incredible amount of cursed energy, it was Atleast 13 of sukunas fingers. And you were only about 8. You sighed as you knew you were going to loose, it was just a matter of how long you could hold up.

you held up decently, it had been around 15 minutes. Sure you were badly injured, but it wasn’t something shoko couldn’t heal.

“Gojo satoru, if you don’t show up right now. I will kill this girl.” It said, you were still able to put on a good fight for around another 10 minutes. Or that’s what you thought.

Before the finishing blow was able to reach you, gojos voice filled the air.

“You can’t go around killing people that mean a lot to me.”

#4 :: MANGA SPOILERS AHEAD

he said he was the strongest, everyone knew he was the strongest. It might’ve just been in the modern era, but they all knew he would win.

but there he was, being broadcasted from Mei Mei’s crows, half of his body lying on the ground. It had a soft smile plastered on his face. Sukuna momentarily praised him.

your eyes were widened—filled to the brim with tears. hands covering your agape mouth. Itadori’s hand rested on your shoulder in an attempting way to comfort you.

“I will win” what a liar. If he said he’d win, why was he lying dead on the ground. You refused to believe he was gone. The same energetic, confident guy. Tears started streaming down your face, but you were angry at him, it wasn’t Gojo’s fault, everyone knew it.

but he wished you knew how you were the last person in his mind, before he died alongside megumi.

#gojou satoru x y/n #gojou satoru x you #gojo x y/n #jujutsu gojo #gojo fluff #jjk gojo #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #gojo x reader #gojo x you #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen satoru #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujustu kaisen

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antimony-medusa · 10 months

Text

Okay this is 100% discourse, so maybe avert your eyes if you don't want to see me wail at the heavens, but for a fandom so anxious about boundaries, we haven't actually been very good in practice at respecting the actual stated boundaries the streamers put down, and I think it shows what we're actually policing, which is not things to make the streamers comfortable, it's stuff to make us comfortable.

This ranges from inventing new boundaries for people (you can't use neopronouns for ranboo, their pronouns are he/they; there's no boundaries on dark content for streamers so obviously we have to invent and enforce dark sbi rules ourselves) and then harassing people based on those boundaries that we just made up, to ignoring the actual things that the streamers said if we don't agree with them (cc!dream said he was uncomfortable with gore art back during the revolutionary war/exile but he's a villain, right, so we can just do whatever we want with the character, right?) and just doing whatever we want.

This is a recurring problem, with people violently policing boundaries that the fandom has all agreed on, to the point of doxxing and harassment and death threats, and ignoring boundaries that they have decided "don't make sense".

Like here's the example I put in the tags earlier, which is Technoblade related. Everyone knows that family dynamic is great and shipping is a no-go, right? But if you actually go looking for the clips, (or listen to streams in the background recursively while you're doing other things), you'll find that what Technoblade said about shipping was that it was "kinda cringe" (I think the list of things he said was cringe included reading percy jackson books and talking like you're better at video games than you actually are), and he was MUCH stronger in saying that he didn't like family dynamic in canon, saying that he didn't like it, that it was non-canon, and he'd never betray his family like that.

But if you look at the entire "found family" tag on Ao3, 19,860 stories, Technoblade is tagged into 29% of them. That's 5,760 fics just blowing right past what Technoblade said. Boom. Taking that character from his political anarchist setting and setting him right down in a royalty au w. younger siblings.

Because obviously a family dynamic isn't actually going to hurt someone's feelings or make them feel weird, the fandom has agreed, so what he must mean was that saying that family dynamic was actual literal canon is the only bad thing (I have been clotheslined by family dynamic written into stuff tagged as "canon compliant" multiple times as well,) and we can continue with the fun family stuff, right? Because someone saying they don't like family dynamic doesn't make Sense, in the way that I like it, the fandom has agreed, so we can just ignore that clip. Honestly I think that a ton of people have no idea that Technoblade ever said anything negative about family dynamic, because that clip is never brought out or talked about. I literally only know about it because I've watched that stream.

Meanwhile, the much less firmly stated boundary when it comes to shipping is absolutely doubled down on and brought out to justify mobbing people off the internet, because everyone already knows that shipping is bad and terrible and tainted and horrible to do and we don't like it, so even the slightest indication that it's out has to be grabbed and used to police people. So that everyone can be very to sure themselves that what they're doing is not weird, and the streamers are okay with it, and if I showed them my fic they'd say they liked it.

They're not going to give the Ok to your fic, because the fic isn't FOR them, and it shouldn't be. It's for the other weird fans who can't stop thinking about the block men characters, it's not for the actors. The actors have their own lives, leave them alone.

To be clear, I am not saying that we should stop writing family dynamic to respect Technoblade's feelings. Among other things, I don't think he's checking his character tag on Ao3 right now. But like, I've talked before about the way that boundaries culture ends up working in practice, and how constantly bringing problems up to streamers just ends up showing them all the things that are the most weird to the streamer. You only have to look at what most of Benchtrio has done in terms of boundaries, which has been transitioning from very explict boundaries with details on everything to just saying "just use your manners," stopping answering questions, and telling people to actually think about what they're showing the streamer instead of expecting someone to weigh in on it for them.

But even when it comes to the boundaries that we do have, that we know about, the way people enforce them seems to be less about actually respecting what the creators like, and more about making sure we're morally pure and never have to see something that we personally don't like, and we don't happen to have any of that nasty boys kissing content in our work, because we all know that's terrible. (And as someone who's seen crackdowns on LGBTQIA content several times, that certainly has unfortunate overtones.)

As long as it's all kept away from the creators, I really think that fluffy cuddly family dynamic and kissing fic and hardcore whump all falls into the category of "not for the creators, they might find that one weird, but you do you". Like keep it away from the streamers, use your brain, but like, it's all a bit weird and for fun. Let it be weird and for fun in a secluded part of the internet, keep it away from the streamers, tag your shit for people who don't want to see it, and go to town.

So just like, I really think that "creator boundaries" should be more about using your brain as to what you show the streamer, and less about harassing someone off the internet cause they drew kissing art.

#discourse #technoblade #dsmpshipping #how's THAT for a rent-lowering shotgun blast #fandom meta

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fatuifucker · 1 year

Note

ah ok! then can my trans scara request be in the catboy au pls? maybe for one of the camshows proposed by mr. zhongli :3 👉👈

soft dom trans! camboy! catboy! scaramouche x sub trans! fem-sex reader (he/him and masculine pronouns used for reader, no mention of breasts but mention of pussy)

WARNINGS = smut, penetration (reader + scara receiving), toys (vibrator + double-ended dildo + nipple clamps + buttplug + leash), livestreaming, role reversal, praise, pet play, use of "master" + "kitty" as pet names, use of word "cunt"

W/C = 1.2k

A/N = uhhhh i forgot how to write dom scara tbh LMAO also been wanting to write about double dildos for a while, don't really see a lot of content fot it hehe shoutout to @child-of-plut0 for watching my stream as i wrote this

TAGS = @midnxght-sweet-time, @barbatosfavouritenun, @ember-is-clueless, @huboi, @nejibot, @yumixxn, @edenialucas, @voidkinnie

Senses deprived. Blinded by black silk over your eyes. Body exposed. Cold all over, yet so hot, hot, hot down there. It’s inflaming, engulfing. You should be ashamed but you’re not. In fact, you’re ecstatic. Other than the buzzing of the vibrator stuffed inside you, the only sound that fills the silent space is the familiar, silvery voice of one of your catboys.

“Today’s a special occasion, so I wanted to try something fun,” you hear a chuckle, followed by a click. “Hehe, yes, these all look interesting, don’t they?”

You tune out most of the conversation, every word he speaks to the audience a bleary fog to the oversaturating exhilaration that floods your body and brain. Left gasping for air, your moans serve as music for the viewers; hundreds of them all watching you writhe, tied to the bed as you await for Scaramouche’s touch.

“Let’s see…the double-ended dildo? Hehehe, an excellent choice.”

There’s shuffling, and you heave when the pleasure comes to a halt. More shuffling, followed by the warmth of hands, and the constricting binds around your wrists are finally lifted. Another warm touch — this time, his lips — presses against your temple as Scaramouche sits you up, the bells on your collar and nipples jingling with the movement

“Can you still go on? Or do you need a rest?” he whispers in your ear. Despite the abrasive tone, there’s a hint of concern under it — one you have come to associate with the headstrong catboy you know and love.

You nod. “Yes, I’m—”

He tugs on the leash attached to your collar, cutting you off. His breath tickles your ear, the low, domineering timbre making you quiver. “Need I remind you of my order? How are you supposed to refer to me?”

“Y-yes, Master,” you gulp.

A role reversal. That was what you consented to. To be filmed for one of his camshows, and to be his pet.

His catboy.

Even if you are blindfolded, you can practically see the evident smirk on his face. “Good boy.”

Your chest palpitates at the pet name. The chat must have said something humorous, for you feel Scara’s chest rumble as he laughs. Carefully, he slips the vibrator out of your hole, while you stifle back a whine at the emptiness. He hushes you, digits tracing your labia as it picks up some of your essence. It appears he’s lathering something with your fluids. You don’t get to ponder over it for long before he makes his next demand.

“Spread your legs. Put one of them up like this.” He helps you into his desired position, on the account that your sense of sight is severely restricted. There’s the shifting of sheets, and then something wet touches the outer lining of your pussy. “Move with me.”

You share twin whimpers as Scara pushes the dildo inside you, at the same time the other side enters him. He lets out a shaky moan as he starts grinding, with you following suit. Your hole clenches around the rubbery dildo, tensing up when you slide against the ribbed edges. It’s intimate, sharing a cock with your mated one. To watch your catboys doing this live is thrilling. To experience it yourself is an entirely different thing.

“That’s it, just like that,” he rasps. “Faster…faster!”

Your thighs burn but fuck do you care when it feels so damn good. Faster, faster, faster. You need to please Scara. You need to please your Master. You need to be a good catboy for him. He seems to have noticed your renewed enthusiasm for he reaches out and strokes you behind your fake cat ears.

“Good boy, good boy,” he purrs. “My good little catboy.”

Synchronised in this hypnotic rhythm, your hips move in tandem; chasing, chasing, chasing after this riveting gratification. You’re lost in this blind lust, lost in a void of darkness, but he guides you by taking your hand in his, providing you with stability and keeping you grounded. In truth, he’s doing his duty as your supposed master. He’s firm and controlling, but not in a bad way. Maybe he gets it from your example, which gives you a bit of relief.

“Mm…hm? You want us to change positions?” Scara mumbles lazily, stopping his movements. “Ugh, fine, how’s this?”

Scara lets go of you. He adjusts his body, manoeuvring you with him so that you’re laid on your back, with him above you. From inference, you guess your ass is positioned in front of the camera. Perhaps to give the audience a view of the cat tail plug lodged in your asshole. Hot air brushes against your neck and then— he plunges into the other end of the dildo in a single motion, his pussy slapping against yours in a wet smack. Scara furiously pounds himself against the dildo, slamming against your dewy cunt with every turn until you’re left speechless, nothing but moans spilling out of your weary lips. His teeth clings onto every expanse of skin you offer to him, leaving marks on your neck, collarbone, chest; everywhere. For once, he seems to have forgotten about the camera, the viewers, the livestream. His focus is on you, on your pleasure, for your attention to be on him, him and only him.

“Mmm you’re doing so good kitty…so, so good for me,” he growls, sandpaper tongue swiping up the sweat stuck to your neck. “Such a good boy…”

The bells on your nipple clamps jingle as he sucks on the buds. He doesn’t care that the audience can’t see, you would have to lecture him on it later, he just wants to make you feel good. To see your reactions, to know that you want him.

Every slam, every collision of his pussy against yours makes you throb, walls clinching onto the rubbery dick as if sucking on it to keep your sanity. The brief friction of his clit against yours makes your cunt pulse, and you swear you have forgotten how to breathe when all the blood rushes to your head and the rapid thumping of your heart reverberates through your skull.

“Fuck, fuck— I’m close too, argh, shit shit shit shit!”

“Oh god, Master, Master! I’m so close, I’m close, I wanna cum I wanna cum I wanna cum—” you cry.

Scara mewls as the both of you reach your peak, sharp nails digging into your shoulders as his body twitches, hole contracting and expanding around the cock. His thighs tremble as he nearly collapses on you, barely holding himself up with his arms. You immediately notice, wrapping your arms around his back to support him. He shows his appreciation by licking your face, purring as you pet his soft ears. If you weren’t blindfolded, you would have seen the comments cooing at his tail, swishing back and forth in contentment. He suddenly recalls that he is streaming, and gets off you to look through the comments, slightly wincing at the sensitivity.

“You wish you could see our faces? Too bad, bleeeeh!” Scara sneers, and you know with absolute certainty that he’s sticking out his tongue in mockery.

“Mochi, behave,” you scold him, finding satisfaction in the squeal he makes when you tug on his tail.

“Hey! You can’t do that to your master!”

“Really? Weren’t you the one who said that cat hybrids have a right to discipline their masters when they…what’s the word you used? ‘Are being a little brat’ was it?” you tease.

“Bratty?! I’m bratty?! You—”

#genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader smut #genshin smut #scaramouche x reader smut #scaramouche smut #genshin scaramouche smut #genshin scaramouche x reader smut #genshin wanderer x reader smut #wanderer smut #wanderer x reader smut #genshin wanderer smut #catboy scaramouche #kunikuzushi #male reader #trans scaramouche

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misc-obeyme · 8 months

Note

for the 1k event, nsfw #6 with Levi? 🧡

Hi, Steph!!

Okayyyy I love Levi lol. Did I put a prompt about jealousy on the list on purpose? No, I never do that kind of thing! I definitely haven't been known to do it before! (I have done it before and I will do it again lol.)

Anyway, I hope this turned out okay, I had fun writing it!

Thank you for participating!

1,000 Followers Event!

GN!MC x Leviathan with prompt "Were you jealous?"

NSFW MDNI

Warnings: jealousy (of course), oral (male receiving), tailfucking (reader receiving), I think that's it but please tell me if I should add something here

Most of the time, Leviathan was the one that was getting jealous, but every once in a while the tables would turn on you.

You had gone to his room after class to find him sitting at his computer, attentively watching a demon gaming stream. You didn't think too much about this as it was a regular past time for him when he wasn't gaming himself.

Levi didn't look away as you came in, leaning against his computer chair to watch the screen with him for a moment.

You couldn't help but notice the demon who was streaming was a popular succubus that was considered throughout RAD to be the most beautiful gamer demon. A lot of people watched her streams and it was something people talked about a lot.

This might not have been a big deal considering how Levi always watched popular streamers, but there was something about this particular streamer that caused your chest to tighten.

This demon attended school with you and while Levi often didn't go to school at all, when he was there, you had noticed the way the succubus came onto him. You suspected it had to do with the fact that he was one of the Seven Lords of the Underworld and likely she was hoping for some extra clout for her channel. You didn't like it and every time you saw her, you couldn't help but glare her down.

So now, to see Levi actually spending his time watching her, you felt that slight smolder of anger bubbling under your surface.

You huffed. "Don't you have anything better to do than watch this loser stream?"

Levi blinked and looked up at you, the surprise evident on his face. "You think she's a loser?" he asked. He gestured back at the screen. "She has millions of viewers!"

You rolled your eyes. "I'm not impressed."

"Wow, MC," he said. "What would a streamer have to do to impress you, then? LMAO!"

You shrugged and walked back toward his door. "Well, if you're busy watching her, then I guess I'll go find something else to do."

Levi immediately stood up from his desk. "W-wait, MC! Don't leave! You came to game with me, right?"

You paused at the door and looked back at him. "I mean, I did, but if you're busy…"

"I'm not busy!" Levi declared, shutting off his computer and then waving at the blank screen. "See?"

You turned back around. "Well… okay."

Levi scrambled over to you, but then he paused, looking into your eyes. "Hang on," he said. "Were you jealous?"

You frowned, looking away as you felt the heat climbing up your cheeks. "No."

Levi shook his head. "You were!"

"No, I wasn't!" you insisted, folding your arms.

Levi didn't seem to know what to do at this point. He hovered around you uncertainly, like he wanted to reassure you, but wasn't sure how. "Y-you don't need to get jealous over a gross otaku like me," he finally said.

You were already irritated by the whole situation, but hearing him say something degrading about himself pushed you over the edge. You looked at him furiously, which clearly made him nervous. Then you grabbed his face in your hands and kissed him.

Levi's arms whirled a bit cartoonishly in his surprise as you practically knocked him off balance. But after a moment, he melted against you. As your kiss became a little more heated, nipping at his lower lip, stepping in so your body was flush against his, he couldn't stop himself from putting his arms around you and opening his mouth for you.

You broke off for a moment to look into his eyes and say, "Okay. I was jealous. And yeah, I was jealous over you. So what? That succubus just isn't worth your time."

Levi seemed dumbfounded by this, but you felt the way his erection stirred against your thigh. He was so turned on by the fact that you were acting jealous, that you were saying these things to him, he couldn't even hope to hide it.

You reached down and stroked him through his pants, making him moan and whimper. He was blushing profusely now, embarrassed at the way he was reacting to your jealousy. He covered his face with an arm and you let him, sinking to your knees and pulling on the waistband of his pants.

It wasn't long before you had his cock in your mouth, causing his whimpers to increase significantly. You swirled your tongue around his tip, looking up to see him still covering his face as he put his other hand into your hair.

When you could taste the salt of precum, you stopped. The whine that came out of Levi almost made you laugh. Instead you stood up and kissed him again.

Levi was desperate now, his neediness evident in the way he grabbed you. His hands were all over you, tugging on your clothes.

You continued to kiss him, your own hands back on his cheeks. His erection was straining between you and he whined into your lips. You knew he had really lost control when you felt his tail wrap around your leg.

You felt the tip of his tail snake into your pants, creeping ever closer to the heat between your own legs. Your arousal was evident, too, and you gasped as his tail found its way inside you.

Your gasp broke off the kiss. You looked at Levi, his eyes shut tight, his face completely red, his hands on your hips, and his cock erect and leaking. He was biting his lip now, as if trying to prevent himself from making noise.

But it was like his tail had a mind of its own as it suddenly began to pump in and out of you. You moaned at the feeling, grabbing onto Levi's shoulders to steady yourself as your knees went weak.

"Ah, Levi," you gasped out, leaning against him, letting him hold you up with his arms around your back.

Levi took several stumbling steps backwards, pulling you along with him. And then you found yourself on top of him in his tub, flush against him, his tail never stopping its ministrations.

Your legs were spread, falling naturally in that position as Levi's hands pushed down your pants, giving his tail more freedom to move. He kept his hands on your ass, pushing his face into your neck to cover his blush.

You moaned, your eyes fluttering shut as his tail increased its pace. The feeling of it was amazing, the scales creating a sensation unlike anything else you'd ever felt. It was pulling the pleasure through your body, spiking up into your gut with every thrust.

One of Levi's hands reached between your bodies to give attention to the throbbing area between your legs. You had to bite back a scream at the burst of sweetness that exploded into your body. You groaned against him, reaching your own hand down to stroke his cock.

Levi was whimpering your name continually, unable to be quiet as you pumped his cock with the same rhythm that his tail was thrusting into you. Your own cries increased in volume as you felt yourself reaching your climax, finally crying out Levi's name as you came hard.

Hearing you cry his name so sweetly was more than enough to bring Levi to his climax, too. He made incoherent sounds as white ropes of his cum shot out over his chest, staining the shirt he was wearing.

You sat up, legs tangled with his, pants half off, and looked down at the beautiful blush on his face, the look of utter bliss he gave you as he stared up at you.

Then you looked at the mess on his shirt and cringed. "Sorry about your shirt," you said, still breathing heavily.

Levi sat up just enough to pull the shirt off over his head, flinging it to the floor outside the tub. Then he pulled you down onto him so he could hold you, cuddling you close.

"You know you're the only one I care about, right, MC?" he said, face pressed against the top of your head.

You smiled, wrapping your own arms around him. "Yeah," you said. "I know."

You would end up spending the rest of the night in Levi's tub, happily sleeping in his arms, the gaming you had come to do with him completely forgotten. Neither of you ever spoke about the streaming succubus again, but you couldn't help noticing that you never saw Levi watching her streams anymore.

1,000 Followers Event | masterlist | Thank you for reading!

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me nightbringer #obey me nb #omswd #obey me smut #obey me fanfiction #obey me fanfic #obey me leviathan #obey me levi #obey me leviathan smut #obey me leviathan x reader #obey me leviathan x mc #leviathan x reader #leviathan x mc #obey me levi x reader #misc 1k event #misc naughty times #misc writes

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celestiaras · 9 days

Text

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ making a run for it ]❜

ft. mysta rias, ike eveland, vox akuma, shu yamino, luca kaneshiro (separate) x gn! reader — luxiem, nijisanji en

╰₊✧ how difficult is it to escape from them?┊3k words

contains: yandere!! obsessive & possessive behavior, kidnapping & isolation, chains, mention of death, delusions, forced physical affection, overuse of the word “love”, overprotectiveness, probably inaccurate vox lore, possibly ooc, not proofread or beta-read, this is a train wreak of sewn together thoughts

➤ author's note: the image quality is so bad ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ i don’t watch luxiem that much and don’t really write for them as a result, but that should change because they are cuties

you lost track long ago of how many days it’s been since you’ve been captured, morning and night blurring together since your enclosure had no windows— it must have been nearly a year since you remember him saying something about your first anniversary coming up. the cold metal cuff around your ankle was just as heavy as when it was first fastened, the chain just long enough for you to reach the corners of the room and the bathroom while being fastened to the leg of his bed. you had every inch of it memorized and explored: the books were worn from being read so many times, the area was spotless without a speck of dust because you kept cleaning the place up, and the most excitement you ever got was from another movie getting added to the streaming service on the television since he didn’t let you have any access to the internet.

just like a bird in a cage, you’ve been locked away and isolated for only your captor’s eyes at night when he comes home from his daily activities. you no longer had any other purpose in the world than to be his to adore and admire, to spoil with material gifts that couldn’t fill the empty hole in your heart, and to be the object of his delusions that you feel the same. the thought of remaining here for the rest of your life as his ‘lover” made you shudder and feel sick to your stomach, a thought that you simply couldn’t get used to even though all hope seemed to be lost. you missed your family and friends dearly, already beginning to forget their faces and the sound of their laughter to your horror. you had to escape somehow no matter what the cost may be, preferably alive and fully intact, but you had no idea if their love for you would be greater than their rage when they found you missing.

━━━ .°˖✧ mysta rias ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ once you had a general idea of what you do, you were a bit hesitant to put it in motion since you didn’t have the specifics in mind and terrified that it would all go wrong with how flimsy it was, but you would never be able to leave if you didn’t take courage. however, if you knew that it would have been so easy and that everything went exactly as you planned, you would have done it ages ago. you couldn’t describe the euphoria you felt when the warm rays of the sun kissed your skin and the gentle breeze welcomed you to the outdoors, practically skipping off to make your long-awaited escape. truly, you were a fool to think it would have been so simple when you were up against a genius detective.

╰₊✧ maybe mysta let you run away on purpose just so that he could drag you back for the fun of it, would you believe it? running away was the easy bit, the real challenge is staying away. despite his laid-back and careless attitude, he’s quite the sadist who loves the image of happiness draining from your eyes and being re-filled with sheer terror when he finds you in the next country over. you’ll be completely helpless against him as he drags to back to his home, tearing you apart from new loved ones just as he did before. it’s so easy for him to destroy all the optimism of being free and sinking back into the despair of being his. it doesn’t matter how much you try to cover your tracks, how far you run, how much you alter your appearance with an identity change, he’ll track you down because the red string of fate always brings him back to you.

you can’t help but feel cold when he holds you, useless as the feeling of desolation rendered you unable to fight against you. you just let yourself be limp and wallow in how pathetic you are, trying to muffle your cries against his shoulder even though you soaked the orange fabric. he didn’t even bother saying any words of comfort and just patted your head your head with his gloved hands, but you both knew that it was an empty gesture that wouldn’t console you in the slightest. there was nothing he could due to make you feel better when he’s the source of all of your woes, so he doesn’t really bother with it.

for any normal person, the tears of their partner would shatter their heart to pieces, especially if they were the reason for it. they would apologize, buy gifts, and do anything they could to show their remorse because they love them. mysta loves you too, he loves you so much, but he loved your misery even more. there’s nothing that he enjoys more than your teary eyes like little crystals brimming over and the cute little sobs you would let out while trying to hide how much he influenced your emotions. he’s sick, so sick, but there’s nothing that could cure him, not even attempts to snap him out of his cruel ways and make him love you in a healthy manner.

━━━ .°˖✧ ike eveland ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ a man with intelligence, but no remarkable prowess to stop you from leaving. he doesn’t have extraordinary deduction skills like mysta, magic like shu, an influence like luca, or inhuman powers like vox, but he has his own charms that work in his favor and keep you by his side. he’s just so… sweet and gentle. you can feel his love radiating in his actions and his words, almost making you forget about the fact you were being held captive entirely. his kindness is the main hurdle, making guilt pool in your stomach because you feel like you were betraying his kindness when he took care of you and treated you like a queen.

╰₊✧ you thoroughly believe that you would have fallen in love with him properly if given the time to do so, but unfortunately, he turned out to be batshit crazy and no amount of bonding is enough to make you completely forget that. once your resolve is solidified that it wasn’t love he felt for you but was instead pure unaltered obsession, putting your plot into action feels more possible. it’s more difficult than escaping from the detective who purposely let you go, but if you manage to outsmart the novelist, you’ll finally find yourself free.

he whistles as he walks down the corridor, holding a silver tray in his hands that has a glass of strawberry lemonade and two decadent slices of cake in your favorite flavor. there’s nothing like spending time with the one he loves the most and a sweet treat in the mid-afternoon, a little pep in his step to show just how excited he is for this routine that occurs about twice a week. in his satchel, he holds a few novels that he thinks you would enjoy and will be asking for your thoughts about the previous books he gave you as he always does. everything was perfect from the weather to his mood to your love life, he doesn’t think anything would be able to ruin it.

at least he thought there wasn’t anything that could ruin it, unable to explain how far his heart dropped when he couldn’t find you anywhere. he ran about the manor in a frenzy, thoroughly searching through every room and crevice while calling out your name. rushing back to your shared bedchamber to properly examine the scene of the crime where he last saw you, he realized that the chain had been broken somehow. he felt dizzy and ill, falling into an armchair and throwing his head back to try and make the world stop spinning.

he couldn’t believe this was happening after everything was going so well! did he do something wrong? did he upset you or offend you in some way? he racks his brain for anything he might have said or done for you to leave him, so deep in his delusions of true love that he doesn’t even consider the fact that kidnapping you and holding you against your will for about a year would have anyone running for the hills. maybe you would come back on your own, finding it in your heart to forgive him and return to be his again? who is he kidding, you’ll never come back unless he looks for you himself! he’ll go and give you flowers and chocolates, and if you still reject him, he’ll simply persist until you remember how much you love him! he’ll follow you to the ends of the earth to remind you of your relationship with him because the two of you were always meant to be together!

━━━ .°˖✧ shu yamino ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ similar to ike, shu is a very smart and clever person, but unlike the novelist, he has quite a few tricks up his sleeve. for instance, his home is laced with so many traps that are installed by his magic, like a temple straight out of indiana jones to protect his treasure. of course, he is the only one who can enter and exit as he pleases— the protection spell isn’t just there to keep you in, it’s also there to keep anyone who may be looking for you out. once he detects that someone is in his property, a simple snap of his fingers teleports you somewhere else until they leave. sometimes you find yourself in an abandoned city or the middle of a grassy field without warning, terrified but unable to find help no matter how far you try to run. wherever you are, he always knows the exact location and can summon you back just as easily as he banished you.

╰₊✧ he acts as though nothing happened, chatting just like he did before you found out his true colors. you can hardly even tell that he has such a manic love for you, remaining awkward as ever while referencing memes that you’ll never understand since you don’t have any interaction with the outside world. he isn’t half as delusional as the other boys, knowing that his affection for you is completely unrequited and will never be reciprocated, yet he still did it anyway because he just couldn’t help himself. you don’t understand this enigma of a man in the least bit, shrugging his shoulders like he didn’t completely alter the course of your life and give you lasting trauma, but at least he doesn’t force affection on you… which is the bare minimum and you are still set on leaving.

the creaking of the door was enough to make you panic a bit, filling the disturbingly quiet house. you weren’t quite sure where shu was, but if he wasn’t with you, then he wasn’t here at all. this was the first time you had left the room and the first time you were exploring the house since you were unconscious when he brought you in. it looked standard, like your average, run-of-the-mill home that you would see in television shows, and impossible to guess that there was a prisoner inside. as a result, it was pretty easy to navigate the place and you found what you thought was the exit within minutes. you found a set of keys hidden in a living room drawer and decided to test them out in the front door, not knowing of the traps and naively thinking it would be simple.

unable to contain your excitement, you prepared to inset the first one into the knob, but before it even touched it, the sound of alarms like a thousand cymbals blaring through your ears and making you drop everything from the surprise. you had no idea where the noise was coming from nor did you know how to stop it, quickly dawning on you that you fucked up. running towards a nearby window, you attempted to push it up to climb out of it, but it only seemed to make the sound louder. when you saw a neighbor walking by with a dog, you tried banging on the glass to grab their attention, but it was like you were a ghost and they continued on with their day not knowing they were being begged for help. clearly, his magic was surrounding and you were too stupid to remember that, seeing flames of purple beginning to form near you and signifying that he was home to see what the commotion was about. you can only hope that he won’t be too upset with you.

━━━ .°˖✧ vox akuma ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ how unlucky are you to be the object of the great voice demon’s affections! he rarely ever lets you out of his sight as being a demon in the modern era means that he too must stay hidden from the public eye. it’s suffocating being under his observant eye, something as much as blinking doesn’t go under his radar. since he isn’t human, his senses are heightened with him being to hear so much as a floorboard creaking or smell the blood of you getting a paper-cut from a different room, leading him to be able to just sense your presence no matter where you are since you’re never far from him anyways. you don’t quite understand it, but what you do understand is that it makes escape much more difficult.

╰₊✧ he’s just so overprotective of you and you get it, having heard the story of his clan and how he lost them when they were all so dear to him, but it’s no excuse for his extremely possessive behavior. you can’t even remember the last time you’ve been outside and touched grass that wasn’t in his garden. he’s always by your side and never leaves unless you need to use the restroom or something, like a guard dog that doesn’t understand boundaries, yet even dogs could be forgiven for not knowing any better. the only time you don’t feel watched is when he’s asleep, with an arm thrown around you, but unconscious nonetheless.

you were more aware of every shift of his body and every breath he took than you would be if he was really your lover, unable to get a second of rest when being coddled like this. you feared that if you squirmed at all, he would automatically tighten his grip around you, but was pleasantly surprised when you were able to wiggle free. hearing him grunt made your heart stop, but he stayed asleep until you tried to get off the bed and stepped on the ground. hearing him ask where you were going made you sweat bullets, but you just said you were off to get a glass of water.

unfortunately, he decided to get up himself to go get it for you, leaving you sitting on the Alaskan king-sized mattress thinking about your fate. you doubt that you’ll ever get away from him, he’ll just track you down and bring you back. the world is massive, but so is he and you won’t make it very far. you can’t hide from a demon, not for long enough to sigh in relief anyway. if walking on wood with bare feet was enough to wake him from his slumber, hearing you open a door or window would be enough to have him running.

━━━ .°˖✧ luca kaneshiro ˚₊ ⊹

╰₊✧ your prison is a palace dusted with gold, you’re served the finest food on silver platters, you’re decorated with jewels that are worth millions, but the splendor isn’t enough to distract you from the fact that you’re a prisoner. normally, you could only dream of living in a place like this where you’re doted on by a lover and spoiled rotten with whatever you want, yet you would do anything to trade this life for the people he had his men wipe off the face of the earth to have you to himself. it can’t be a paradise when you know it’s stained with the blood drawn by a mafia family.

╰₊✧ escape is next to impossible, as expected of the kaneshiro family. hidden cameras watch your every step and guards are lined up in every hallway to make sure that no one aside from their masters gets in or out, armed with weapons that they wouldn’t hesitate to use if necessary. even if they have strict orders not to use them against you for any reason, they are still allowed to use physical force to bring you back and any injuries will be regarded as collateral damage.

your legs dragged across the polished marble floors of the hall since you refused to walk back to your room, carried by two burly men in suits who caught you trying to run away for the -nth time. just like all previous attempts, you were caught within five minutes, which is an improvement to last time yet still not even close to enough to reach the pearly gates of freedom. knowing that you’ll need more then double of that to get out is disheartening, but everyone knows that you’re going to try again. you’ve learned that it really doesn’t cost anything to make a run for it, they don’t even punish you for it since luca loves you too much for that so they just throw you back on the bed before leaving.

there are a few bruises from their rough handling, but nothing too serious. you’d be willing to walk out of there with a broken arm if needed, you just wanted to go home and see the remaining few who weren’t picked off by the mafia again. later that day, you’ll be gifted with new dresses and shoes that shimmer in the light of the grand chandelier of your room to try and convince you to stay, however, there isn’t any use for such items if others couldn’t see it as well. if you keep trying, you’ll make it a little further as you learn from your mistakes, maybe even one of his men will feel pity for you or get sick of your antics and just let you go. you’ll only know if you keep trying.

#📜. her works #ike eveland #ike eveland x reader #mysta rias #mysta rias x reader #vox akuma #vox akuma x reader #luca kaneshiro #luca kaneshiro x reader #shu yamino #shu yamino x reader #luxiem #luxiem x reader #nijisanji #nijisanji x reader

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deus-lapidis · 9 months

Text

Forever and always.

— Diluc’s Wedding Layout [modern]

Characters: Diluc x fem!reader

Genre: fluff

A/N: this is written for @hiraya-rawr as a specialty treat in hopes of bringing her some joy. Therefore it was crafted with a female reader in mind, but imo, fuck gender norms and read it if you want to read it, as long as you’re comfortable <3

I’m also really sorry for being like…dead.. streaming and irl matters have consumed my time and genshin hasn’t been a bit tiring. I’m very hyped about Fontaine though!

Preparation and Planning [hehe…PP]

The attire

Diluc likes to spoil you. He has the money from his family business and on what else should he be spending it on if not on things that conjure such a sweet smile on your face :>

Though he cannot come with you to pick out your wedding dress, he makes sure that at least one of his maids will accompany you and of course bear his request in mind; for his lover to get nothing but the best, the finest and the most extraordinary to match your person!

Whatever you wish for, he will absolutely fund. Pearls or dainty jewels, lace or maybe silk, a veil or maybe a crown even? It will be yours, just say the word.

When it comes to his suit picking though, he has his brother tagging along with Venti and Rosaria, since they all invited themselves to the attire picking occasion. They spent so much time with the dawn winery heir that they practically HAVE to join in.

They make lots of stupid remarks though and poke fun, while having champagne, so Diluc also decides to confide in his childhood friend Jean and her little sister Barbara, texting the siblings to ask for their opinion.

They settle on a classy and sleek looking black suit with a few bronze touches that remind of his coat.

He gets a bit emotional once seeing himself in his wedding attire, cause then it really sinks in. He’s here. Picking out the suit that he’s gonna wear to his wedding, to YOUR wedding. Oh my god, he’s gonna marry you. You, the love of his life and his beloved partner ohdeararchons—

The bubbling champagne glasses of his cheery friends clink, a toast in the background, as he himself — refraining from alcohol while picking out such important garments — puts on his fifth potential wedding suit. The previous ones have been quite beautiful, but not to his taste in the end and he strived for your wedding to be absolutely perfect. While he was absentmindedly buttoning his black dress shirt, his thoughts drifted to you, his lovely fiancée. A small smile stretched out on his lips, one that he couldn’t fight when he thought of you, his ears dusted pink when he allowed himself to picture you in a wedding gown. Archons, was he ever so smitten.

The wedding cake

You two go to a local, fancy bakery to taste test and assemble your dream wedding cake.

That part was far less nerve wrecking, since it also sort of felt like a sweet date. You two were spending time at the bakery together and while he was actually never that fond of sweets, he enjoyed a lot of the cakes.

He watched you with his gentle vermilion gaze, he was utterly and hopelessly smitten <3

Well frankly said he also found that they tasted a lot better, since you were insisting on feeding him the different cake flavours :)

You settled on a dark chocolate cake, since it seemed to be a rather classic flavour, rich and bittersweet.

The sweet scents of cake samples waft through the tasting room, you sitting there with him and gleefully trying the next flavour.

“Mhm! Diluc, try this. I think you’ll like it.” You lifted the fork to his lips, offering your fiancé a bite of coffee cake, gently prodding his mouth with the utensil.

He chuckled at your gesture, smitten eyes gazing at you in amusement, before accepting the bite and letting the cake melt on his tongue.

He really could get used to this.

The actual wedding:

Boy, he’s so nervous.

So here’s the thing, his father had always been an anchor for him for anxious moments in his young years, Crepus being there to validate and reassure his son. During adulthood he found himself bottling things up and managing just fine, yet in this moment, he feels like a vulnerable young boy again. Yes, he’s suited up for his adult wedding with his very adult beloved. His once innocent eyes, now matured over time, staring back at him in the mirror, his strong facial features of an unshakable man and yet he feels so young and helpless.

His brother had to come and calm him down a little, even almost resorting to calling you via phone to help his awkward redhead brother relax, but they ended up managing on their own.

(Venti put on a stupid song and Diluc’s nervousness easily transformed into stressed aggravation.)

The first look had him in tears. He’s quite sniffly, but he’s trying to contain himself for the sake of the wedding and his image. Truthfully, he’s really excited to marry you. You are wonderful inside and out and he can’t wait for you to be his and for him to be yours.

As soon as he (somewhat) recovered, he opted to wrap his arms around you, forehead pressing against yours, as he whispers sweet nothings to you.

“I love you. My darling.”

Finally, it was was ceremony time! Tears were shed. A lot of them. Vows were exchanged through more tears and croaked out chuckles.

The kiss was chaste and loving, just utterly perfect, a perfect start for your married life.

Bennett cried, Razor was happy to be included, Klee was the little flower girl, Fischl was ??? Oz was translating.

Kaeya held the absolutely most perfect speech as the best man. More tears were shed. Both because of gooey soft feelings and just utter amusement at his funny remarks and embarrassing Diluc anecdotes.

The first dance was a dreamy but nervous waltz, Diluc’s refined training as a young boy slipping out as he lead you. Gently swirling you while his own eyes focused on your shared joy, smiling ever so softly at you in an absolutely love drunk fashion.

Diluc offered you his hand, leading you to the dance floor when his brother announced the first dance of the newlyweds.

Pulling you closer to his body, he placed one hand on your waist, while the other held your right hand, he smiled encouragingly when you placed your left hand on his shoulder.

You followed his steps, swaying and twirling to the familiar music. Your eyes never breaking away from each other, smitten love radiating from the both of you.

He looked incredibly handsome like this, hair out of his face, lips curled upwards in happiness. You never wanted to forget this moment.

In his eyes, your bright smile was something to be engraved and tucked away into his heart forever.

Eventually the music died down, leaving you two swaying in each other’s arms happily, him pressing a kiss on your forehead, before resting his head against yours.

“I love you. Forever and always.”

#i did not proofread this #hi i’m back #diluc fluff #genshin fluff #diluc x reader #genshin impact diluc #diluc ragnvindr

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imaginedanvrs · 5 months

Text

my demon gave me everything

part 4 l masterlist

summary: dark!natasha romanoff x reader. Natasha Romanoff saves the world. Morals, lifestyle and past aside, the fact is that she puts her life on the line for everyone else. And for this, she believes she’s owed something. She saves billions of lives on the regular, so why not take the occasional one for herself?

word count: 5.2k

warnings: established kidnapping, abuse, power dynamics, degrading, strap on sex, manipulation

Natasha was proud of herself when she heard you cry behind the very much not soundproof door. For one, she liked how you looked when tears were streaming down your cheeks and she could imagine it picture-perfect just from the sound, it was too pretty of a sight not to have glowing in her head. For another thing, she had been worried she broke you too soon.

The way you had let the redhead fuck you the night before was…different. None of the other girls had given in so quickly, not to mention been so soaked. You hadn’t even been with her a full twenty four hours and you were practically begging to have Natasha’s fingers inside you. She wasn’t necessarily disappointed in that because it had been quite the sight to be the first one to touch you, but if anything that should have made you even more wary about it.

The spy had wondered if perhaps your lack of experience with relationships and intimacy had made you too innocent, that you were so naive that the first sign of physical affection was one that you perceived as good. But then again, that hadn’t been your first impression. You had fought back only hours beforehand. Then the following morning, nothing. The numb look plastered across your face in the shower was one that Natasha only saw once she had completely broken someone down to nothing, void of all sense of self or hope. But you weren't wet so Natasha didn’t pursue, there was no fun in that for her. She much rather enjoyed making a woman wet so that they could be far more ashamed after.

Yet even after that, giving yourself to the Avenger and becoming so broken after, you still wanted to leave. She hadn’t gotten to you yet, she wasn’t sure why, but Natasha was glad of it. She had put a lot of work into getting you in that building with her, what a waste it would be if her fun was over so soon. She could only hope your turmoil lasted at least another month. It was hard to tell. Usually Natasha could precisely predict how long someone would last after the first day, but for you she just wasn’t sure.

A single chime from Natasha’s phone pulled her from her thoughts, knowing what it meant before she even took a glance at her device. A brief message from Tony explained S.H.I.E.L.D were having some transportation issues and needed the Widow to assist them. The redhead sent off a confirmation text before putting out her cigarette and heading towards the bathroom where you were still sitting on the shower ledge.

You didn’t look up when Natasha opened the door and strolled in, observing the burn you were nursing with concern. So precious. “I’ve got to go out.” The redhead announced. You kept your attention on your leg. “I’m not sure how long I’ll be but if I’m not back by the evening don’t bother trying to make some dinner, most of the electricity is turned off when I’m not here.” She continued, you listened carefully to that but showed no signs of acknowledging. Natasha knew you heard. “There’s crackers if you get hungry.” She said finally as she walked away, leaving the door wide open so you could hear her retreating footsteps and the beeps of her unlocking and relocking the main door behind her. You figured you should at least try and get a general sense of her security system but knowing that so much power went out when she left was definitely a blow. You scowled at the irony you were sure wasn’t lost on the redhead.

Once you figured you had put the burn under cold water for long enough, you left the bathroom and studied the apartment before you. Still adamant on finding a way out, you strolled around the wide space scanning for anything you hadn’t spotted before. You knew the kitchen and the bathroom were a bust and the living room was too vast to provide any help to you, so you set your eyes on the impressive stairway and made your way up. The steps were especially chilling under your bare feet but you tried to ignore the sensation once you reached the door and examined the thick barricade.

You tried the handle for some dumb luck and was unsurprised to find no lean way so you scanned the keypad for any signs of continued use of specific keys. Again, you went to try the first combination you could think of but on the first number the light flashed red and an abrasive sound of denial came from the lock. Confused, you tried every number but every time you were met with the same sound and light. Defeated, you carried on down the steps, knowing it was useless to wait outside that door in hopes of surprising Natasha when she got back.

Continuing back into the bedroom, your gaze fell to the balcony door and you immediately rushed to it thinking it would give way but it was of course locked. You sat back on the bed, feeling defeated and emotional again. You were just so tired and homesick and cooped up. You began wishing you hadn’t pissed Natasha off before so that you would have enjoyed more time outside but swiftly denied myself to ponder on that. I will not strive to make that psycho content just so she can give my ‘outside time’.

You despised the feeling of being some common animal that was being kept in a cage to adjust to a new life. You weren’t her pet and you refused to stay there any longer, so with a sudden burst, you charged at the window and kicked it as hard as you could. Nothing. So you kicked again, and again and again. Not even a scratch. You kept going until your legs and foot grew undeniably sore and collapsed against the glass in a heap, beginning to sob once more.

You spent the entirety of that day on the sofa wrapped up in some blankets you had found in the bottom of Natasha’s wardrobe. You had wanted to stay in bed, but laying there only reminded you of what you had done in it with the redhead, stirring up feelings and thoughts you didn’t want to process. So instead, you stayed on the sofa and watched how the sky and city transformed throughout the day, too tired to grow bored of the sight.

The TV didn’t work and you genuinely weren't sure if it was because the spy had turned the power off or if she had just never used it and therefore hadn’t ever set it up. You assumed the Avenger had an excessive collection of computers and electronics in the flat, but none of them were anywhere you could access them so you were limited to the windows for your entertainment.

You had thought about asking Natasha for a clock or watch of some kind. You hated not knowing exactly what the time was as you were only able to make a rough assumption based on the sun’s position. The time you had spent wondering had started to make you irritable. You aimed to bring it up to the redhead organically although how easy that would be you weren’t sure.

It was strange not having her there. Even when she was out of sight, Natasha’s presence filled every inch of the space in the apartment and without her it almost felt like there was too much space for yourself. You had no idea what to do with it, so you confined yourself to one spot and strived to not let her overtake your thoughts. You knew you needed to keep thinking of a way to get out but you just wanted some peace from anything to do with her.

The sun was setting when Natasha got back, so it must have been at least seven. You didn’t lift your head in her direction when you heard the two beeps and locks opening, or even when her boots thudded against the staircase as she made her way down. You made a point of keeping your eyes trained on the city while hers examined your state as she trudged across the room towards you. You wondered if she was tired.

You finally looked up at Natasha once she stood in front of you within arm’s reach. She had a white plastic bag in hand that seemed to have two small boxes within it. “I’m back.” She announced. You clenched your jaw and looked away, wishing she could’ve given you peace for an hour longer. “Come eat.” She made it sound like an invitation, but you both knew she wasn’t really offering so after a beat you dragged yourself from the makeshift security of the blankets and towards the table.

Natasha had put the food onto some plates that she laid on the table and went to grab some cutlery while you sat down to inspect the contents. It looked to be an italian salad with a small amount of dressing drizzled over without touching the croutons or tomatoes. Just how you liked it. A large part of you was suspicious of the dish in front of you, especially as you hadn’t seen the redhead prepare it and had no clue what could be secretly hidden in it, but you hadn't eaten all day and the colourful salad was undeniably tempting. But also, you just couldn’t find it in yourself to care what could be in the food. You were too tired to play Natasha’s mind games and timidly roll the dice she put before you. So as soon as she put your cutlery down you dug in and finished the meal in a matter of minutes.

You felt perfectly fine after you swallowed the final bite and took the time it took Natasha to finish to study her as subtly as you could. Her auburn hair was plaited with a few loose tendrils hanging loosely infront of her face. Any other time you would have admired it. Apart from that, she looked no different and while of course you had no idea what she had been called away for, she had been gone a long while so naturally you were curious. You wondered how often she would be away for such a long period of time and if it would ever be longer. Would it be something you might be able to see a pattern in after a while? Unlikely. Threats to national, international and intergalactic security wouldn’t be so threatening if they had a rota to abide by.

“Clean up for me, malysh,” Natasha said with an unexpected gentleness. She didn’t look at you as she said it, nor while she walked past you but there was no doubt it lacked her usual demanding undertone.

You took both your plates and cutlery and brought them up to the sink to begin cleaning but caught sight of the kettle before doing so. You didn’t have any bad intentions with it, you genuinely just wanted a cup of tea for some familiarity but the last you had looked there had been no tea bags anyway so you sighed and continued to wash up. By the time you were done Natasha was back though you hadn’t seen her walk past you and once you stepped away from the kitchen you found her sitting on the sofa in the exact spot you had been lying in. You glared at the back of the spy’s head but eventually began trudging over.

The closer you got, you noticed that the redhead was reading a book she must have been keeping upstairs. The cover of it suggested it was a French murder mystery set in Paris, not usually your thing but you were so eager for something to do you would read any similar novel she might be keeping upstairs.

You perched awkwardly on the edge of the sofa as far away from the spy as you could while her eyes ran across the page swiftly. You glanced at the TV and wondered if it worked now that Natasha was back so you picked up the remote you had left nearby and tried the main button. A blank screen stared back at you so you looked to Natasha to see if she had acknowledged it. Her attention stayed on her book.

“Could you turn the TV on?” You asked after half a minute of awkward silence. Natasha turned over another page. “Please?” You forced out after a beat but the redhead continued to ignore you. You sat back slowly and pondered your next words. “You know it’s pretty hard to tell what the time is…” you started. “Maybe I could have a small clock or watch or…something,” you suggested but it fell on deaf ears. You stared at Natasha for a short while longer, waiting for any indicator she had even heard anything you had said because you knew she had just like you knew she could feel you watching her.

As soon as you could feel yourself grow frustrated again, you got up from the sofa and headed for the bathroom, figuring that putting space between yourself and the older woman was the best way to stop yourself from doing something reckless. So instead, you started brushing your teeth and washing your face as you knew you weren't going to be doing anything else, you might as well go to bed. You didn’t really want to, but you also didn’t want to be near Natasha and that made your options very limited.

Some time later you heard the Avenger enter the room though with your back to her you were confused by the sound of a heavy thud followed by Natasha dragging something across the floor. You frowned but didn’t turn to look, aiming to appear asleep. Even when the redhead disappeared into the bathroom you didn’t dare sneak a glance and what she had brought in and felt the ever present sense of unease grow, like a child during bedtime convinced there's a monster in their room.

When Natasha returned you could hear the sound of a lock turning, helping you imagine some kind of box the redhead had brought in. You strained your ears more and just about caught the sound of a buckle and something else being tossed on the bed before Natasha removed her clothes and put them for the wash. More shuffling and eventually she was moving the covers back and shuffling towards you. You froze until you were suddenly being shoved onto the floor. You braced yourself for impact just in time but still dazed nonetheless. This time, you gaped back at Natasha just as she grabbed a handful of your hair and dragged you up to your knees to see her sitting on the edge of the bed, legs spread wide for you to kneel between them and stare openly at the black harness she wore and sizeable dildo attached.

“Get it wet for me, detka.” Natasha instructed, her voice as husky as it was the last time she had you in such an intimate place. Your eyes snapped at hers and you could immediately sense that she wasn’t going to be taking no as an answer. Her eyes were dark and drunk on a power she knew she held every second that you were in that apartment but particularly when she had me like this.

She grabbed the silicone toy with her other hand when you were too dazed to respond and slapped it a little across your cheek impatiently. “I- I don’t know-” you stammered at the unpractised scene you found myself in. Of course you had watched porn and read smut with this but you had never done it and now that you actually could you found yourself intimidated by the toy presented to you. It was bigger than anything you had ever used on yourself and you were suddenly very unsure of what you were even meant to do.

“It’s not hard, malysh,” Natasha huffed and pushed the head past your parted lips without any warning. “Even a dumb mutt like you can do it,” she said before taking both hands to the back of your head and forcing you down on her strap. You immediately tried to brace yourself by grabbing at Natasha’s thighs but this proved no help when the toy hit the back of your throat and you began to cough and gargle. Through tear filled eyes, you tried to look at the redhead pleadingly for some leanway, not understanding that this only worked her up more and she continued to push you down until your nose was against her stomach.

You hit her thighs with as much strength as you could muster as she held you in that position, desperate for air and a break on your burning throat, until she pushed you off her toy and let you gasp for air while she kept you close. You coughed and wheezed in a panic, not even noticing the tears streaming down your face or the spit on your chin. All the while Natasha soaked up the view until you had gotten enough oxygen back into your body. Your breathing still wasn’t normal and you weren’t ready to try again, but the more experienced woman forced her strap into your mouth once more, this time guiding you to roughly bob your head on her toy. She didn’t make you take the whole length every time, easing the pressure off of your throat and instead making your jaw ache from the unfamiliar action.

Her fingers had a hold of the majority of your hair and tightened every so often just to make you whine at the painful sensation of her pulling on your scalp. Just because she could. “That’s it, we just gotta loosen up that sensitive little gag reflex of yours, don’t we?” Natasha cooed and bucked her hips just to hear you gag and prove her point. You gave a muffled protest around the toy and the redhead chuckled.

“God, I could keep you like this for hours,” the spy breathed out as she watched a fresh set of tears start up in your eyes. “I bet that would just turn you into a cockdrunk whore, huh?” She spat and when you didn’t even try to respond she pulled the strap away and slapped you. Your head didn’t spin too far to the side due to her unwavering grip. “Answer me.”

“Yes,” you said, voice hoarse and weak.

“That’s yes daddy,” Natasha corrected and your cheeks heated up.

“I…” you started but one warning look from the redhead was enough for you to correct yourself. “Yes daddy,” you said and was ashamed to feel your cunt clench around nothing as the words left your lips. Natasha smirked and hauled you back onto the bed before pushing your face into the pillows and lifting your ass up. You went to squirm away but she placed a firm hand on your waist as she lined her cock up with the other and ran it through your embarrassingly wet folds.

“Wait!” You tried but Natasha was already dragging the dildo up and down your slit, allowing you to hear just how wet you were for her and making you bathe in shame before she pushed the thick toy inside you.

It was a strike of blazing hot sensations. Every inch of Natasha’s cock was thrust inside you within a split second and just like that, she was anchored inside you and you were bound to her. Every nerve in your body was ablaze while not a single cell in your brain could respond. Everything was alight and it was blinding yet you could do nothing to stop it and would do anything to keep it. Then suddenly Natasha withdrew and forced herself in again and you became entirely too aware of the stretch, of the size, of the fullness. It was all far too much but you were trapped between the redhead and her bed and not a single muscle within you was strong enough to even attempt to move.

To add to it all, you could feel your slick on your thighs and heard yourself moan into the pillow. You couldn’t help it. Any of it. It hurt so much but it felt so so good. It was entirely too easy for Natasha to pump her cock into your cunt, stuffing you to the brim every time and sending your nerves into a frenzy.

“I knew you’d fucking love this,” the redhead grunted as she planted her hand into the back of your head and used it as leverage to fuck you better with. You clenched around the toy the moment she did and she smirked, thrusting her hips wildly against you and revelling in the mess she had made you become. You were a puddle in her bed and could only rely on Natasha to build you back up again. Not yet though. She wanted to play with you first and took her time in doing so.

Natasha was insatiable, never getting enough of your desperate whines every time she pulled back too far or waited a moment longer to push her cock back into your cunt. She edged and teased you relentlessly for hours, making you beg for things you never dreamed you would. You gave yourself to her and allowed the spy to do whatever she liked with you under the illusion that she would make it all better if you did, that she would set you ablaze in the most euphoric way imaginable. She was everything.

You passed out after cumming numerous times, collapsing in a heap and letting the exhaustion clock you out for the night. Luckily, Natasha was too and content to let the rest of her attention to you be for the sole purpose of cleaning you both up, not wanting to have to deal with it the next day. She was amused to find she was even able to change the bed sheets without you stirring. Granted, it was your first time in some sense of the word and the redhead had worked you far past my limits as she had intended to.

Natasha watched you sleep for a while before she even considered it for herself, knowing you were going to be flat out for a long time. She was glad that you weren’t still numb to sex, that that morning had just been some disassociated state that she wondered if she would find you in the next morning. She didn’t much care if she did, but she was still curious to know because Natasha was still finding you challenging to predict. She hadn’t expected you to become so willing again so soon yet seeing that you were allowed her to think about how she could take things with you. There was still some trial and error to be done, but Natasha was gradually figuring out the best ways to break you.

You felt nothing but achy when you woke up. You grimaced at first until you realised the main area of the discomfort and sunk further into the bed and found yourself more mortified than you had been the morning before. How had you let that happen again? Except it was far worse than last time because Natasha really hadn’t had to use a knife to threaten her way into your pants.

You were grateful to find she wasn’t lying next to you but listened out for any signs of her in the bathroom or kitchen, getting nothing. You hauled myself from the bed, set on the shower as quickly as possible to try and feel clean again and hoping it would be more effective the second time around. Thankfully it was, though that may have been partly due to the absence of any unwanted company as you lathered myself in soap, even washing your hair as swiftly as possible.

Staying in the shower, you felt your muscles start to relax under the steaming water and were able to focus on the sounds and feelings surrounding you for a few moments of bliss that you wouldn’t end up regretting later on. It was only once the heat started to make you light headed that you dried yourself off and headed back to the bedroom.

That’s when you noticed the notepad left on Natasha’s side of the bed. You started towards it with some apprehension and as you got closer you noticed there was a HB pencil and square rubber laying next to it. No sharpener. The notepad had no lines inside and was the type that was held together by two thin pieces of cardboard on either side.

“Behave and I’ll get you a treat.” That was what Natasha had said. “Like a notepad.” You scoffed and threw the ‘gift’ back down on the bed next to the clothes the redhead had lain out for you. Instead, you made your way over to the wardrobe to get something else and rummaged through all the options.

You were tempted to piece together an outfit with the spy’s leather jacket and combat boots, just to piss her off, but you thought it best to try and stay on her good side for a while until you could figure out a stable plan to get out. Sure, not going through her clothes would be a good way to do that, however you were getting tired of walking around without trousers so you grabbed the first pair of sweatpants you saw and paired them with the shirt and fresh underwear Natasha had left out. You yearned for the comfort of your own clothes and headed for the kitchen.

There was still no sign of the redhead as you searched her cupboards for something to eat and settled on some fruit left in the fridge. As you began eating, you wondered if you would be able to use the pencil as a weapon. Sure, it wouldn’t be as good as the knife, but used with enough force it could be something promising. Natasha clearly didn’t deem it much of a threat or she wouldn’t have given it to you. Then again, you figured she had left you the knife just so she could use it against you. You couldn’t underestimate her again.

When you finished your breakfast and washed up the bowl, you paused next to the oven for a moment, remembering that Natasha said the power would be off whenever she wasn’t there. You turned the dial and waited for the sound of something igniting and upon hearing nothing determined that the redhead was out. You smiled at the small victory of knowing you could use that method to determine her whereabouts in the future. It was progress.

Unfortunately, it didn’t take long for your mind to wander back to your night with the redhead, replaying the very vivid memories of the degrading ways she touched and talked to you. And how you had reacted. So you soon caved and went back to the bedroom to retrieve the notepad and supplies and brought them back to the sofa that still had several blankets over it but had since been folded neatly. At least you could both appreciate tidiness.

You tapped your pencil against the notepad as you studied the city before you. You already spent countless hours staring out at it, you just weren't used to sketching landscapes. It took several attempts to start, but once you realised you weren’t going to be sharing the final result with anyone, you allowed your hand to roam freely across the page and began collecting the buildings together with your pencil, eventually becoming immersed in the art the way you often did.

You gave voice to the chaos of the city and the confidence to the skyscrapers that acted as the foundations and the awe of the people below. You sauntered around the apartment to get all angles and different insights, different stories, different ages. All expressed across numerous pages in the notepad until the sun dispersed behind the buildings and the true nightlife got to shine across new pages.

You didn’t even realise Natasha was home until her shadow fell over the notepad. You jumped, knocking everything off of your lap and backing away from the redhead who watched you with a bemused expression. Her hair was still in a plait. You liked it like that. She trudged over to the kitchen and put a pack of beers in the fridge, keeping one for herself and taking it through to the bedroom where you heard the balcony door slide open and partly shut.

Trying to ignore the redhead’s presence, you turned back to the notepad and put pencil to paper only to see the stump of lead had come out. You tried to put it back in like you used to when you were too lazy to fetch your sharpener but the lead was too short and kept falling back out. You huffed and glared in Natasha’s general direction before gathering everything and taking it to the balcony with you where the Avenger sat smoking.

You leant against the sliding door, facing the side of Natasha’s profile, as you spoke. “Thanks for the notepad and pencil,” you wondered if it sounded as forced to her as it did to your own ears. “And the rubber,” you added dutifully. “The lead just fell out of the pencil though so…” She didn’t respond so you let the statement hang in the air as you tapped the notepad against your leg and thought of something else to say and realised the redhead hadn’t acknowledged the additional clothing you were wearing. You glanced at her and registered a far away look across her face and wondered if she had a bad day.

No. You refused to feel bad for her if she did. She deserved it. Well…wishing a bad day on her felt uncomfortable. You didn’t want her to be upset, you just wanted her to stop making you upset.

You didn’t know what else to say. Small talk was never a strong suit of yours. “Shall I…make some food?” You tried. You weren’t hungry yourself, you didn’t have the biggest appetite at the best of times and the past couple days didn’t make it any better. You also weren't planning on making a meal for the redhead out of the kindness of your heart. You just wanted something to do after a day of nothing but drawing. Natasha didn’t reply and you realised you didn’t really know what dish you could make out of the ingredients the spy had anyway. Cooking wasn’t one of your strong suits either. At least you could draw buildings.

Figuring there wasn’t much more you could do or say, you went back inside and got yourself ready for bed, surprised to see that Natasha fell shortly behind and you were somewhat thankful that she didn’t want a meal prepared. Perhaps she had had dinner with the Avengers. The thought almost made you bitterly laugh.

As soon as Natasha was in bed, she was on you. Mouth everywhere, hands everywhere. She made swift work of your clothes and despite yourself, you helped her. Not because you wanted to be on her good side, not because you wanted to distract her, but because as soon as she made her move you forgot you hated her and only knew you wanted her.

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