#and the reason you couldn't pull the blanket up was because you have the blanket

[thebarneschronicles]

Steady (Closer To Home)

A Closer To Home side-story

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Word Count: 6.7k

You and Bucky have been dancing around a fragile intimacy for months—close to comitting, but never crossing the line. Despite being somewhat settled, Bucky still has his bad nights—haunted by dreams that tear him out of sleep and away from your arms. But this time, when he returns home shaken and silent, the rhythm between you shifts.

What begins with coffee and warmth turns into a conversation that redefines everything—labels, love, and the future you're building together. From a phone background to a blushing soldier, to a question that changes it all, this is what it means to choose each other, every day.

Trigger Warnings: Bucky Barnes (he needs a warning of his own); nightmares and implied PTSD; references to emotional trauma and past violence; fear of loss and emotional vulnerability; intimacy; light sexual content (implied foreplay, heated kissing, groping, innuendo); mild possessiveness, dominance, and suggestive dialogue; mentions of bruising from prior sex; discussions of romantic labels and commitment anxiety.

Closer To Home Masterlist

Author’s Note: Surprise, surprise: I have returned after an insane few months. I am so sorry it took me this long, but genuinely, life took over in a way I couldn't even comprehend. I missed these two so badly though and hopefully you have too. Give me your thoughts! Love, B xx

--

It was too early. That strange, in-between hour where the world was still waking, where the sun barely stretched past the horizon, and where the warmth of your bed felt impossible to leave.

And yet, here you were—blinking sleep from your eyes, drawn from the comfort of your blankets by the faint sounds coming from the kitchen. The quiet clatter of pans. The slow scrape of metal against a skillet. The low hum of something that might have been a sigh, or just the house settling.

You knew the real reason you were awake.

Bucky had a rough night.

You felt it before you even opened your eyes—the restless way his body tensed behind you, the sharp, ragged breaths fanning against the back of your neck. When the tremors had started, you didn’t hesitate. You turned into him, wrapped yourself around him, grounding him with your warmth, your steady hands, your quiet presence. For twenty minutes, you held him, whispering soft reassurances into the space between you, running your fingers through his damp hair, waiting for his breathing to slow.

And then, just like that—he was gone.

Slipping from your arms. Pulling on sweatpants and a hoodie with that blank, withdrawn look that made your chest ache.

You didn’t stop him.

Because sometimes, Bucky just needed to go—to run, to move, to fight against something only he could see. It was still dark when he left, and though part of you wanted to stay awake and wait for him, sleep eventually pulled you back under.

Now, the smell of coffee and the quiet rhythm of him moving through the kitchen had pulled you back into wakefulness.

Bucky was already making breakfast by the time you dragged yourself into the living room, still swaddled in one of his old sweaters, your feet tucked beneath you as you curled up on the couch. He hadn’t noticed you yet.

He was lost in thought, stirring scrambled eggs absently, his vibranium fingers tapping against the handle of the pan in an absent rhythm. His hair was damp from the shower he must have taken when he got back, a lone strand falling across his forehead. His shoulders, broad and still faintly pink from the heat of the water, flexed slightly as he worked. He was shirtless, grey sweatpants slung low on his hips, and the soft winter light streaming through the window caught on the metal of his arm, making it gleam in the quiet morning air.

You watched him in silence.

It was rare—these quiet, introspective moments where he wasn’t a soldier, wasn’t fighting, wasn’t running from something unseen. Just Bucky. Barefoot in your kitchen. Lost in a world of thoughts you weren’t sure you could pull him from.

If he needed you, he’d come to you.

If he wanted to talk, he would.

And if he didn’t? You’d sit here, offering him the kind of company that asked for nothing in return.

But God, he was beautiful like this.

You reached for your phone without thinking, lifting it just enough to snap a photo. He still hadn’t noticed you, the faraway look in his eyes making it easy to capture a few more. The quiet intimacy of the moment was too much to resist—the way the golden morning light softened the sharp edges of him, the way the steam curled from his coffee, how utterly real he looked, standing there.

But then—his gaze flicked up.

He caught the movement, blinking like he was just now registering that he wasn’t alone.

"What you doing up?" he mumbled, voice rough with sleep, still thick with whatever weight sat heavy in his chest.

You grinned, tucking the phone away. "Missed you," you admitted easily, offering him a lazy, sleepy smile from your spot on the couch. "Was worried."

Bucky huffed softly, shaking his head as he grabbed another mug from the counter. "You didn’t have to be," he said, pouring a second cup before making his way over.

You took the coffee from his outstretched hand, watching as he sank down next to you, his arm draped along the back of the couch, close but not yet touching. He smelled like soap and fresh air, a little like the night still clinging to his skin.

You turned slightly, pressing a kiss to the crease of his elbow, your free hand wrapping around his bicep, thumb skimming the underside of it where smooth skin ran over hard muscle. Bucky let you, saying nothing, but his fingers found the back of your hair and flexed slightly, just once.

You hesitated, debating whether to push, before deciding against it. Instead, you just said what you already knew.

"You had a nightmare."

It wasn’t a question.

Bucky sighed, nodding reluctantly before tipping his coffee to his lips. Vibranium fingers gripped the mug, and you didn’t miss the way he used the motion to shield the slight downturn of his mouth.

You caught it anyway.

"Yeah."

Your voice softened. "Hydra?"

"No."

That made you pause.

Most of his worst nights—the ones that left him trembling, breathless, drowning in memories he couldn’t control—were tangled up in his past. But if it wasn’t Hydra…

Your grip tightened slightly around his bicep, thumb brushing gently against smooth skin over strong muscle. "Should I ask what it was, or should I leave it be?"

A muscle ticked in his jaw. His gaze flickered to yours, and for a second, you weren’t sure if he was going to answer.

Then, quietly—"It was you."

You stilled.

"Me?"

Bucky exhaled sharply, his vibranium fingers tracing along the rim of his mug, eyes fixed on a point on the floor. His voice was hoarse when he finally spoke. "You were… gone."

Your heart clenched.

You swore you felt his words crack something inside you.

“I couldn’t— couldn’t help. Couldn’t bring you back." His throat bobbed, and when he spoke again, his voice was rougher, quieter, and you had a feeling he was sparing you whatever gory details had sent him running into the night. "I kept trying, I looked for help everywhere, but you—” Bucky’s eyes squeezed shut. “You were gone. It felt… real."

Your heart squeezed painfully in your chest.

Bucky had lived through nightmares most people couldn’t even imagine. He’d been broken, controlled, forced to be something he never wanted to be. But somehow, the thought of losing you was what sent him running into the cold morning air, like it was something he could outrun.

You set your coffee down on the table, shifting closer, tilting his chin toward you so he had no choice but to look at you. Fingers warm from the coffee, you scratched against his stubble, eyes locked on his.

"I’m right here, Buck."

He blinked slowly, eyes flickering over your face like he was memorizing every detail, every breath, every reassurance. His fingers found the nape of your neck, threading through your hair, and you let him pull you closer until your foreheads touched.

"I know," he murmured, but there was something fragile in the way he said it, like part of him wasn’t convinced.

You pressed a lingering kiss to the bridge of his nose, staying there for a beat, letting him feel it. "I need you to hear me," you whispered against his skin. "I am safe. I am healthy. No one will hurt me. And I’m not going anywhere. Not in your dreams, not in real life. You’re stuck with me, James."

The corner of his mouth twitched—just the faintest ghost of a smirk. You saw it. Felt it.

"Lucky me."

Your heart swelled with quiet relief, and you huffed, nuzzling against him, letting your nose brush his. "Damn right."

Finally, finally, his arm slipped from the back of the couch, wrapping around your shoulders and pulling you into his warmth. You tucked yourself against his side, letting your head rest against his chest, feeling the warmth of him, the solid weight of him against you.

Silence settled over the two of you, thick but no longer heavy. You traced absentminded circles against his chest, and slowly, you felt the tension in his body ease, the tight coil of anxiety unraveling bit by bit.

He was safe. He was here.

The quiet almost had you drifting back to sleep, but then his voice broke through it—low and rough, like gravel.

"I’m sorry I left the bed."

You shook your head, turning your face into the crook of his neck. "It’s okay. You came back."

And that was what mattered.

For a moment, he didn’t say anything. Just tightened his hold on you, like he was testing the weight of those words—you came back—letting them settle over him like a blanket.

You waited until his breathing evened out before speaking again, this time with a teasing lilt. “But if you ever leave our bed at four in the morning again, I’m chaining you to me.”

You felt the shift before you heard it—the way his chest shook just slightly beneath you, the subtle way his lips pressed together like he was trying to contain it.

Then, a small huff of laughter.

Quiet. Barely there. But real.

“…Kinky,” he murmured.

“Bucky!” You gasped, swatting his side. “You’re hanging out with me too much… I’ve corrupted you.” He chuckled deeper this time, the sound low and warm against your skin, vibrating through you in a way that sent something heady curling in your stomach.

And this time, when he tipped your head up and kissed you—slow and deep, fingers threading into your hair—it wasn’t about grounding himself.

It was about you.

–

Weeks had passed since that quiet morning, but the warmth of it still lingered, wrapping itself around the two of you like an unspoken promise.

Things between you and Bucky had settled into a rhythm—soft, steady, something unspoken but deeply felt. He still had bad nights, but he came back to bed more often. When he needed space, he’d at least leave you with a kiss, a silent reassurance that he wasn’t running from you—just from the ghosts that still clung to him. And when he was ready, he’d let you pull him back, let you ground him in the safety of your arms.

Sometimes, you caught him staring—like he was trying to make sense of it all, trying to understand how he had ended up here, with you, with something so… real. Little did he know you wondered the same.

Life felt easier than it had in a long time—like the universe had finally pressed pause, giving you both a moment to breathe. The world, always so chaotic, had granted you this reprieve, a chance to settle into the simple, domestic routine of being together. Bucky continued to spend more time at your apartment, despite your attempts to make his feel more like home. He always had a counterargument—yours was better, cozier, you had a bed, and more importantly, you were there.

You couldn’t quite argue with that one.

And so, you let yourself fall into what it meant to be loved by Bucky Barnes. It wasn’t perfect. There were moments when you felt helpless, when his mind dragged him somewhere you couldn’t reach. There were nights you worried—worried that one day he’d wake up and decide he didn’t deserve this, didn’t deserve you. But still, you held on. Because it was good. Because he needed good. It was calm. And he needed calm. It was loving. And god, did he need to be loved. It was passionate, and that—well, that was something you both needed in equal measure.

You felt, for the first time in a long time, like a teenager—caught in the all-consuming pull of something new, something that made the rest of the world feel distant, insignificant. He was everywhere. In your bed, in your arms, against your skin, in your thoughts. It didn’t help that he was also, technically, your boss—your sort-of, kind-of boss. But that didn’t stop the way your world seemed to orbit around him.

And somehow, without you realizing it, he had even claimed a place on your phone.

The picture you had taken of him that morning had slowly but surely become your favorite. It had started small—just something you’d pull up when he wasn’t around, a quiet reminder of the way he looked in the soft morning light, lost in thought but undeniably beautiful. But as the days passed, you found yourself reaching for it more and more, until finally, you caved and set it as your background.

It felt silly, juvenile even, but you let yourself have this one thing.

It never even crossed your mind that he’d see it.

It never even crossed your mind that you’d be the reason he’d see it.

You didn’t even think about it, leaving the phone on the bathroom counter after you got out of your shower. You were practically done getting dressed when you remembered, calling out to him from the bedroom.

“Buck? Baby, could you get me my phone? It’s on the bathroom counter!”

There was a pause, just long enough to make you wonder if he hadn’t heard you, before he answered. “Yeah, I got it,” Bucky called back.

You went back to pulling up your panties over your hips, dragging one of his hoodies over your head and dragging a hairbrush over your tangled locks while you heard the quiet scuff of his socked footsteps. It wasn’t until he crossed the threshold of your bedroom that you realized something was… off.

He had your phone in his hand, sure, but he wasn’t looking at you. His eyes were locked on the screen, brow furrowed, lips just slightly parted like he was in the middle of trying to figure something out.

“Is this… me?” he asked, voice lower, slower, as he lifted the phone just enough to show the screen.

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit.

Heat rushed to your face and you scrambled for something, anything, to deflect. “Uh—no, it’s… uh—”

Bucky arched a brow, tilting the phone toward himself, as if double-checking. “It’s me,” he said again, this time with something different in his voice. Not teasing, not mocking—just curious. Maybe even a little surprised.

You hesitated, caught between embarrassment and the sudden, crushing realization that—honestly? This was a big deal. Or at least, it was starting to feel like one.

You sighed, crossing your arms, leveling him with a look. “Yeah, it’s you. Don’t make it weird.”

Bucky’s lips twitched, that barely-there almost-smirk that drove you insane, but his eyes told a different story. He wasn’t teasing. He wasn’t mocking. He was curious.

“I’m not making it weird,” he said slowly, his voice quieter now. “Just… didn’t expect it.”

That, you believed. Bucky wasn’t used to people holding onto him like this. Keeping pieces of him close. He wasn’t used to the idea that he was something someone wanted to look at, to remember.

Your chest ached a little at the thought, but you brushed past it, rolling your eyes to cover the sudden rush of warmth in your face.

“Well,” you muttered, turning away, “I like the picture.”

Bucky hummed, glancing down at your phone again before lifting it slightly. “When’d you take it?”

You kept your back to him, rifling through your dresser for socks as if this was the most important task in the world. “A few weeks ago.”

“When?”

You hesitated, fingers tightening around the fabric in your hands. “...After you had a nightmare.”

The room went still.

You could feel his gaze on you, heavier than before, as if he were working through something in that head of his. When you finally turned back, your stomach gave a sharp twist—he had stepped fully into the bedroom now, standing in the doorway like a force of nature. Unshakable. Unstoppable. Your phone was still firm in his grasp, but he wasn’t looking at it anymore.

He was looking at you.

“Why’d you put it on your screen?” His voice was closer, softer—but no less insistent.

Your pulse jumped.

Jesus, what was this? An interrogation?

“What’s with the Spanish Inquisition?” you scoffed, laughing a little too nervously. You turned back to your socks—because if you kept looking at him, you knew you were going to combust—clumsily yanking them on before you darted past him, making a beeline for the door.

You almost made it. Almost.

But before you could slip away, before you could pretend this conversation had never happened, his hands were on you.

Large palms gripped your hips, pulling you back into the solid heat of him. You yelped, your momentum halted so suddenly that you barely had time to catch your breath before he was right there, pressed against your back, his voice low and teasing in your ear.

“Hey, now—wait a second.” His fingers tightened slightly, grounding, steadying. “I have questions.”

“Oh my God—”

“Let’s talk about this.”

“No, let’s not—”

“Let’s definitely talk about this.”

You grunted, trying to wiggle free, but it was useless. His grip was firm, unrelenting, the sheer strength in his arms making any escape attempt laughable at best.

“God, you’re so—annoying!” you groaned, shoving at his forearm, but there was no real heat behind it. You were just embarrassed. Embarrassed that he caught you being soft, caught you simping, caught you—

Bucky chuckled, breath warm against your neck. “Annoying, huh?”

“Yes!” You twisted in his grip, but that only made things worse, because suddenly, your ass was pressing back against his front, and—

Oh.

Oh.

A sharp inhale left you, and Bucky—that bastard—must’ve noticed, because his grip on your hips tightened.

You cursed under your breath. “What do you want me to say?”

Bucky was quiet, waiting. Watching.

You exhaled sharply, closing your eyes for a brief moment, before finally turning your head slightly to glance at him. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes—those damn eyes—were burning.

You swallowed. Hard.

“That you’re handsome?” you muttered, voice quieter now, a little breathless. “That I like looking at you? That I miss you when you’re not around?”

Bucky’s fingers flexed against your hips.

“That I wanted something of yours to keep?” Your voice dropped even lower. “That I need a visual for when I—”

You caught yourself just in time, slamming your mouth shut, but it was too late.

Bucky stilled.

For a moment, there was nothing but silence between you, thick and charged.

Then—

“When you what?” His voice was deeper now, slower. Smug.

You gasped, immediately trying to pull away, but his arms caged you in.

“Oh, no, no, no—”

“None of your business, Barnes!”

Bucky laughed, actually laughed, and the sound of it sent a rush of warmth flooding through you.

“You absolute menace—let me go!” You struggled, bent forward in a desperate attempt to pry his hands off you, but in doing so, your ass pressed firmly into him again, and—

Oh, fuck.

There was definitely something there.

Bucky let out a low grunt, grip tightening, and—shit. That was not helping.

“You were saying?” His voice was rougher now, the teasing edge still there but undercut with something else. Something darker.

You clenched your jaw, mortified. “Fucking super soldier serum,” you grumbled under your breath.

Bucky grinned. You felt it against your skin.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he murmured, lips brushing just below your ear, the heat of his breath making you shiver. “Just tell me.”

Your resolve wavered. God, he was so unfair.

“I cannot have this conversation before I’ve even had my coffee,” you argued, exhaling dramatically as you gave up and went limp against his arms. If he was going to hold you hostage like this, you might as well get comfortable. Your eyes fluttered closed as you felt him—solid, warm, inescapable.

Bucky chuckled, arms tightening around you, pressing you more firmly against him until you were practically weightless in his hold. “I’ll let you have your coffee…” he promised, voice dripping with amusement. “But we’re discussing this while you drink it.”

He huffed, shifting his grip, turning you around and before you could blink, he was lifting you. You gasped as your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, arms locking around his neck as he carried you with frustrating ease.

“That was nice,” you sighed, unable to help the giggle that slipped out when he effortlessly adjusted his hold. You nuzzled into his neck, voice muffled against his skin. “Remember when you weren’t a menace?”

“What do you mean weren’t?” He pulled back just enough to shoot you an indignant look. “I’ve always been a menace.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t fight your smile. “Yeah, but it was more of a brooding, dangerous menace before. This?” You gestured vaguely between the two of you, still wrapped around him. “This is a smug, cocky menace and I don’t know if I like it.”

Bucky smirked. Smirked. “I think you do.”

You scoffed, burying your face into his shoulder, squeezing your arms around him tighter—not just to shut him up, but because you could.

And because… you needed a second.

Because there was something in the air between you now—something shifting, stretching, growing. Something unspoken but suddenly very loud.

Bucky was looking for something. Waiting for something. You could feel it. The careful weight of his gaze, the way his arms settled so securely around you, like he wasn’t just holding you but keeping you. And the realization that he had been thinking about this—about you, about where the two of you stood, where you were going—it shook you.

You knew this wasn’t casual. It never had been. Not after everything in D.C., not after what you both admitted—what he admitted. Not after the way he loved you.

And now? Now he wanted to talk about it.

Shit.

You barely realized he had walked you both into the kitchen until he set you down on the cold surface of the island. The moment your bare thighs made contact with the freezing countertop, you yelped, clinging to him instinctively.

“Could’ve warned me!” you cried out, squeezing your arms around his neck in retaliation.

Bucky laughed. Full-on, unabashed laughter. The warmth of it curled through you, but you refused to acknowledge it, choosing instead to scowl at him as he pulled back slightly.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry—” He didn’t sound sorry at all.

“You’re pushing your luck, Barnes,” you grumbled, reluctantly releasing him as he stepped back, heading toward the coffee maker.

“I’ll take my chances,” he sighed, shooting you a smirk over his shoulder.

You huffed, watching him move around your kitchen like he owned the place. Which, honestly, at this point? He practically did.

No matter how much effort you’d put into making his apartment feel like a home, he spent more time here—left his boots by your door, tossed his jacket over your chair, claimed half of your closet without even trying. And you let him. Because no matter how much you pretended to be exasperated by it, the truth was, you loved it.

“Here.” Bucky’s voice was warm as he handed you a steaming mug, his fingers brushing against yours for just a second too long. “Drink up.”

You accepted it with a grateful murmur, curling your fingers around the ceramic, letting the heat sink into your skin. You took a sip. Then another. Then a third.

He didn’t move.

You frowned, glancing up at him over the rim of your cup. He stood right there, hands planted on either side of your hips, his body caging you in—not in a way that made you feel trapped, but in a way that made you feel… held.

His blue eyes were locked onto yours, unreadable, steady. Waiting.

Your stomach flipped.

“So…” His voice was casual, but there was nothing casual about the way he was watching you. “The picture.”

Your fingers tensed around your mug.

God, he was relentless.

“You are insufferable,” you muttered, taking another sip, as if coffee could save you from this conversation.

Bucky tilted his head, lips twitching. “And you’re stalling.”

You groaned, setting your mug down beside you. “I told you—I like the picture.”

He nodded slowly, gaze unwavering. “And?”

You frowned. “And what?”

Bucky let out a soft huff, stepping closer, the warmth of him pressing against your knees. His hands found your thighs, rubbing slow, lazy circles into your skin. The touch was grounding, familiar, dangerous.

“And why’s it your background?”

You opened your mouth. Closed it.

“I—”

“Just tell me the truth, sweetheart.” His voice dropped, softer now, rougher. “Let me hear it.”

Your heart pounded.

He wasn’t teasing anymore. There was something in his voice—something careful, something raw.

Your breath hitched as you exhaled slowly.

“Because you’re handsome. And I miss you when you’re not here,” you admitted, voice quiet but unwavering. “Because I like looking at you. Because it makes me feel… close to you.”

Bucky didn’t move, didn’t blink, just listened.

You swallowed, suddenly so aware of the weight of the moment.

“It’s… the 21st century equivalent of having a picture of your girl on your wallet. It’s just… something romantic partners do.” The words were out before you could stop them, and your stomach plummeted as realization crashed over you.  

The air between you shifted.

Bucky’s fingers flexed against your thighs.

“What’s this about romantic partners?” His voice was careful, cautious.

Your grip on the coffee mug tightened.

You hadn’t meant to say it. Hadn’t meant to throw it out there like it was nothing when it was actually… everything.

You cleared your throat. “You’d catch on to that, wouldn’t you?” you muttered, eyes darting anywhere but him. “It’s not like we’ve, uh, talked… about labels.”

Bucky studied you, pulling back, arms crossing over his chest, the muscle in his jaw twitching as he worked something out in his head.

“Should we?”

Your breath stalled.

“Bucky—”

“It’s a genuine question,” he cut in, his voice lower now, almost grumbly, like he was bracing himself.

You exhaled slowly, rubbing your temple with your free hand. “We don’t have to,” you said, finally setting your mug down. “It’s not a requirement. And I wouldn’t want to do it if it’s something you’re not comfortable with.”

Bucky shifted, leaning in a little, closing the distance between you, fingers curling along the edge of the counter like he needed something to anchor himself. His voice was even, but his eyes—God, his eyes—were so intense you felt like you were drowning in them.

“But it is something people do nowadays?”

You squinted at him, trying to pinpoint exactly what about this had him all twisted up. His expression was blank—frustratingly so, that careful, calculated mask he wore when he wasn’t sure how much of himself to show, but it was clear his mind was working through it.

“It’s something people have always done,” you pointed out, tilting your head. “Didn’t you ever discuss going steady with your dates back in the day?”

Bucky scoffed, shaking his head, a small smirk tugging at his lips. “Doll, back then, if you went on three dates, you were practically engaged.”

You blinked.

“Excuse me?”

He smirked, leaning in just a little. “You heard me.”

“That’s insane.”

“That’s the ‘40s, sweetheart.”

You stared at him, incredulous. “Were you ever engaged?”

His smirk softened, turning into something smaller, something almost shy.

“I never got to the third date,” he admitted, and you couldn’t stop yourself—you pinched his waist.

Bucky jerked slightly, laughing, his hand grabbing yours to stop you from doing it again.

“That’s ridiculous,” you muttered, shaking your head.

“What?” He grinned. “The ‘three dates’ rule or me never getting to the third date?”

“Both.”

His fingers grazed the curve of your hip, slow, thoughtful.

“So,” you drawled, narrowing your eyes at him. “By your standards, I should already have a ring on my finger?”

The second the words left your mouth, you saw it.

The way he looked at you—how something flickered across his face. His throat bobbed slightly as he swallowed, the tips of his ears going pink.

Oh my God, he’s blushing.

Your breath hitched.

And fuck.

There it was again.

That shift.

That unspoken thing hanging between you, thick and undeniable, inevitable, something you hadn’t named but had been building, piece by piece, since the moment he walked into your life.

Bucky wet his lips, fingers still tracing slow, absentminded strokes against your hip. His voice, when he finally spoke, was quieter.

“Would that be the worst thing?”

Your stomach dropped.

The air changed, the teasing burned away in an instant, leaving something raw and exposed in its place. You could feel your pulse in your throat, a heavy, thudding thing, your heart hammering against your ribs.

His fingers flexed against you, just slightly.

You hesitated, inhaling sharply. “New… relationship rule,” you muttered, heat crawling up your neck as you lifted a finger and poked the center of his chest.

Bucky barely moved, but his eyes flashed.

“You don’t get to joke about marriage,” you told him, voice firm despite the warmth in your face.

His lips tugged, but there was something else there now—something dark and interested.

“Who said I was joking?”

Your stomach flipped.

“James, I swear to God—”

He was looking at you, watching, like he was working something out in his head. Like he was measuring the weight of this moment, testing the limits of what could be said.

And then—

“Do you wanna go steady with me?”

Your lips parted.

Your brain stalled.

Bucky Barnes just asked if you wanted to go steady.

It should have been funny.

It should have been outdated.

But the way he said it—so serious, so low and real—made your entire body go up in flames.

He must have caught the way your breath stuttered because he pulled you forward, closer, his grip tightening just a little around your thighs, grounding you, steadying you. 

You swallowed thickly, fingers curling into the fabric of his henley.

“You’re serious,” you murmured.

Bucky nodded, his gaze unwavering. “Yeah, sweetheart. I am.”

Your heart thundered.

It wasn’t just the words—it was everything behind them.

It was the months of falling asleep next to each other, the mornings making coffee, the way he always grabbed your hand in a crowd like it was second nature. It was the fact that he already had half his shirts living in your drawers, the way he kissed you like he was memorizing you every damn time.

The truth was, you’d already been his.

This was just the part where he made it official.

Bucky, the menace, pressed again, voice quieter now, more certain—like saying it one more time would make it real:

“Do you wanna go steady with me?”

Your head was spinning.

Not just from the question, but from him. From the way he stood there, broad and unshaken, all squared shoulders and tension, like he was gearing up for a no. Like he’d been so damn sure before, teasing and smug, but now—now, he was nervous.

Even after everything.

After the nights tangled together, after whispered confessions in the dark, after the I love you’s that had slipped from your lips more times than you could count now.

Even after that ridiculous jealous fit you’d thrown over Sharon Carter in D.C., after all the ways you’d reassured him that you weren’t going anywhere.

He still had doubts.

Your heart clenched.

You wanted to press yourself against his chest and tell him a thousand times over that yes, of course, yes. That there had never been a moment where you weren’t his.

But instead…

You decided to tease him.

Because why not?

You shifted slightly, arms wrapping around his neck as you tilted your head, feigning deep thought.

“What does ‘going steady’ mean exactly?”

Bucky’s eyes narrowed, the blue suddenly sharper.

“You know what it means.” His voice was gruff, but there was a flicker of amusement in his gaze, something that said he knew exactly what you were doing.

Still, he indulged you.

His hands gripped your thighs and spread them further, stepping between them like he owned the space, pressing himself against you.

Heat licked at your spine, curled low in your belly, but you forced yourself to keep your composure, lips twitching.

“Hm, do I?” You cocked your head, your fingers toying with the soft hairs at the nape of his neck. “I’ve never dated an old man before. I don’t know what that entails.”

Bucky’s hands tightened on your thighs.

“Why don’t you give me some examples?” 

He exhaled sharply, and you could see the moment he decided to play your game.

“Alright, doll,” he rasped, tilting his head, his lips brushing dangerously close to your ear. “Going steady means I get to hold your hand whenever I damn well please. Even if it’s just to steal your warmth. Even if it’s just to feel you.”

His fingers traced down your arm before intertwining with yours, squeezing gently, like he never wanted to let go.

“It means I walk you home, make sure you get there safe, even if you swear you don’t need me to.” His voice dropped lower, rougher. “It means I take you dancing—if we make it out the door. And when we inevitably don’t, it means I’ll just have to sway you around the living room instead. Press you against the wall. Whisper things in your ear that’ll make you blush.”

Heat flickered low in your belly, sharp and insistent. Your breath hitched as he pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes, his expression suddenly raw.

“It means I’m the guy who shows up when your shower isn’t working, who carries your bags even when you argue you can do it yourself, who remembers how you take your coffee…” His thumb brushed against your cheek, voice dipping lower, more certain. “It means I’m the guy who gets to kiss you whenever I want. Wherever I want. It means I get to have you under me, above me, wrapped around me, moaning my name like it’s the only one you know.”

A shiver skated down your spine. Your thighs squeezed around his hips instinctively, and he smirked, eyes dark, amused.

His voice was a husky promise when he leaned in closer, lips barely brushing yours. “It means I’m yours, and you’re mine. No second-guessing. No wondering. No what-ifs.”

His gaze burned into you, steady, unshaken. “It means you never have to doubt where I stand, 'cause it’s always right here—with you.”

Your teasing resolve cracked, shattered under the weight of him—his words, his presence, the way he was always so damn steady.

Your throat felt tight.

“Oh,” you whispered.

A slow smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

“Yeah,” he murmured, dropping his forehead to yours, breathing you in. “Oh.”

Your fingers curled around the front of his shirt, clinging. He was so close, so warm, so Bucky that you couldn’t remember what life was like before him, and you didn’t want to.

“You didn’t answer my question,” he murmured, his voice lower now, almost testing.

“What was your question again?” You breathed out, shaky.

Bucky exhaled sharply through his nose. His patience was running out, and still… “Do you wanna go steady with me?”

This time, his voice was different. Lower. Rougher. The kind of voice that sent heat curling down your spine, settling deep in your stomach.

You bit your lip, letting your nose brush against the rough stubble of his jaw before pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to the pulse point in his neck.

“James Buchanan Barnes...” you murmured, your voice teasing but thick with emotion. “Are we boyfriend and girlfriend?”

Bucky inhaled sharply, chest rising against yours, his breath hot as it left him in a slow exhale. His hands on your hips twitched slightly, fingers flexing as if he was resisting the urge to pull you in even closer.

“Am I not too old to be a boyfriend?” His voice was low, edged with something rough.

You grinned against his skin, pressing another lingering kiss just below his jaw, loving the way his grip tightened instinctively at the contact. “Would you prefer manfriend? Would that fit you better?”

A low sound rumbled in his chest, a mixture of amusement and warning. “Shut up.”

“Make me,” you whispered, lips barely brushing his skin now, your breath warm against the column of his throat.

The teasing evaporated.

The air shifted.

Bucky wasn’t nervous anymore.

His blue eyes flickered over your face, your lips, your throat, dark and heavy with intent. His grip flexed at your waist, thumbs brushing just under the hem of your sleep shirt, a silent tease of what was to come.

“You didn’t answer me,” he murmured, his voice lower, deeper, dripping with quiet authority.

Your heart pounded.

He was right there. Close enough that all you had to do was lean in, tilt your chin, and—

Your fingers curled into the fabric of his Henley, fisting it tight as you pulled him in until there was nothing left between you but heat and the electric charge that hummed between your bodies.

“Yes,” you whispered, your voice unsteady.

“Yes?” His gaze flickered to your lips, his thumb grazing your hip bone, slow and deliberate.

“Yes,” you repeated, softer this time. “I’ll go steady with you, Buck.”

His breath left him in a slow exhale, something shifting in his expression, in his body.

And then—

He kissed you.

Not slow. Not teasing. Fierce. Unrelenting. Like he’d been waiting forever and couldn’t hold back anymore.

Your fingers curled into his shirt, pulling him closer, and his hands tightened on your hips, tugging you flush against him. His lips were warm, insistent, like he was staking a claim—like he wanted to make damn sure you knew exactly what you’d just agreed to.

His lips were warm, insistent, claiming you in a way that made your stomach clench and your thighs tighten around his waist. There was no hesitation, no uncertainty—just Bucky pressing himself into every inch of you, as if trying to brand the moment into his skin.

And then his hands started moving.

Slow. Purposeful.

Dragging up the hem of your hoodie, rough palms mapping the soft skin beneath. A shiver rippled through you as his fingers teased higher, sweeping over your ribs, grazing the underside of your breasts in a way that made you gasp against his mouth.

Bucky groaned, low and deep, and you felt it everywhere.Your legs locked tight around his hips, drawing him in until there was no space left, no room for doubt—just the heavy, aching pressure of him, firm against the heat of your center. A shaky sound slipped from your lips, and Bucky swallowed it with a kiss that was nothing short of greedy.

His hands never stilled—one sliding slow beneath your hoodie, fingers memorizing the soft give of your waist, the curve of your ribs; the other gripped under your thigh like he needed to anchor himself to something before he came undone. He rocked into you with a controlled grind that had your head tipping back, your breath catching.

He chased the sound like it was the only thing keeping him grounded, his mouth trailing down your throat in open, possessive kisses that made your breath catch.

“Jesus, Buck,” you gasped, your voice hitching on a laugh that dissolved into a quiet moan. “Is this what claiming me looks like?”

You said it at his ear, half-teasing, half-breathless—just as his fingers slipped beneath the waistband of your panties. He froze, just for a beat, then let out a short, rough laugh against your skin.

“You did just agree to date me,” he murmured, voice low and threaded with heat. “You really surprised I’m taking that seriously?”

You pulled back to look at him, a grin tugging at your lips as your fingers slid into his hair. His cheeks were flushed, his pupils blown wide—but behind all that intensity was a softness that made your chest tighten.

“Sergeant Barnes,” you whispered, nose brushing his, “I think you’re drunk on commitment.”

He let out another low laugh, one that sounded like it shook something loose in his chest. His lips curled into a smile before he pressed a kiss to your jaw, your cheek, the corner of your mouth.

“Yeah,” he said, voice quiet now, certain. “I think I am.”

Then he kissed you again—slower this time, no urgency, no second-guessing. Just a man who knew exactly where he belonged.

[nvxzaa]

── .✦ Hidden relationship

Masterlist

Pairing : Kim Seungmin x reader

Word : 8.3 k

Genre : angst ? Fluff ? Idk

Warning : crying, pain, violent dad, pregnancy trope

It was often said of Yn that she was born under a lucky star. In professional circles, her family name was enough to silence a room. It inspired respect, rigor, a kind of cool elegance that didn't need sparkle to exist. And she-she was their pride incarnate: brilliant, refined, always polished. The girl everyone would dream of having. The one who always said "thank you", who never raised her voice, and who succeeded in everything she touched.

There were no known missteps. No teenage crisis. No drama. Just perfect letters of recommendation, dresses that always fell just right, and a sweet smile she served to perfection. Even her tears were silent.

But that evening, curled up on her cold bedroom floor, one hand on her rounded belly, Yn was nothing but a secret. Four months. Maybe five. She wasn't even sure. She'd stopped counting the day she'd closed the door behind Seungmin.

He didn't know. He didn't even know why she'd left him. All he'd gotten were cold words, whispered between silences, a clumsy excuse just before he left on tour: "I love you, but you deserve better. Someone free."

The truth was, she'd been afraid. Afraid that her family's name would drown out Seungmin's. Afraid of tarnishing her career. Afraid of sullying her career, of making headlines for the wrong reasons. An out-of-wedlock pregnancy? With an idol? She already knew the headlines. She could hear her father's voice in her head: "You were raised for better than this, Yn."

They knew nothing, her parents. Not a hint. And she did everything to keep it that way. The long dresses, the loose cuts. She'd pretend to be tired, stressed by her internships, too busy to come home. She still played her role to perfection. But her body no longer lied. And the mirror was becoming increasingly cruel.

She just wanted to breathe. Just for a moment. To be Yn, without the reputation, without the expectations, without the weight of heritage. Just her, and this baby she hadn't had the courage to give up. Not even for Seungmin. Because she knew that one day, he'd understand. He might. Or maybe he wouldn't.

But for now, she had to hold on. Because she was the perfect daughter. And no one should ever know how broken she felt.

The sound of the front door echoed faintly in the huge apartment. Yn didn't move. She was lying on her side, her back to the light of the corridor, a blanket pulled up to her shoulders, even if the warmth of her own body was enough. Her hand, resting on her belly, tightened slightly when she recognized her father's voice.

- "Yn, I took what you told me. They've changed the recipe for the soup, so it's sweeter now."

She didn't have the strength to reply.

He stepped forward without waiting for an invitation. He always did that - walk in, talk, exist - never really asking if there was room for him. He was tired, as usual, his features drawn, his jacket open over his impeccable shirt. He set the bag on the desk by the window, adjusted a crooked frame, then turned his eyes to the bed.

- "Are you asleep?"

Silence.

Yn squeezed the fabric a little tighter between her fingers, hoping the trembling of her chin would go unnoticed. She wasn't asleep. She never really slept these days.

He sighed softly and stepped closer, as if expecting an answer that wouldn't come.

- "You're working too hard. You should take a break, you're getting too skinny."

She gave a quiet, almost nervous laugh. Too skinny? If only he knew. She'd put on six kilos. Discreetly. Slowly. The shapes of her belly became more obvious every day, but he couldn't see anything. He wasn't really looking.

Her father stood there for a moment, in the tense silence of the room.

- "You know... Your mom told me you've been looking preoccupied lately. Is there anything you want to talk about?"

She hesitated. Just a heartbeat. Just one more second, and maybe she could have said, "I'm pregnant," or "I can't breathe," or "I left him for you, and lost everything."

But she said nothing. Because she knew the look that would follow. The one full of incomprehension, then disappointment. And she wasn't ready to see it.

So she murmured:

- "I'm just tired."

Her father nodded, as if that were answer enough.

- "All right. Get some rest."

He left the room, and the door closed softly behind him.

Yn's breathing barely quickened. Silent tears slid down her cheeks. She didn't know if it was relief or pain.

Then she placed both hands on her belly, closing her eyes.

- "I'm here, little heart... I'm here. And I'm sorry. So sorry..."

As if he understood, a discreet nudge was felt, almost a caress from within.

She burst into tears, her head buried in the pillow. Because in the midst of it all, there was only this little being answering to her. And that was both her greatest consolation... and her greatest solitude.

The hotel room was pitch-black, barely lit by the screen of his telephone. Seungmin lay motionless on his back, eyes reddened, muscles taut with fatigue.

In his headphones, Yn's voice echoed softly. An old video. She laughed as she secretly filmed him trying to cook, mocking the way he chopped vegetables. She had that mocking voice, soft and full of love. The kind he sorely misses.

He was tired of pretending. During concerts, he smiled. He sang. He played with the fans. But whenever he was alone, it was always her. Always that excruciating emptiness, as if his body still remembered her, even though she wanted nothing to do with him.

He sighed, opened their old conversation once more. Dozens of blue messages. Some short, desperate. Others long, trembling, as if he could bring her back with the right words. But all unanswered. All facing the same wall.

And above all, at the top of the screen: "You cannot send messages to this person."

Blocked.

Again.

He squeezed the phone between his fingers. He'd already tried other ways. Phone calls. E-mails. Even a letter left in his mailbox in Seoul. Nothing. Total silence.

But that night, despite everything, despite the shame, despite the pain... he tried again.

He returned to the conversation, heart pounding.

"I miss you. At least tell me why."

He typed the words.

He pressed send.

And the message disappeared... like the others.

Blocked.

Still.

Seungmin closed his eyes, one arm over his eyelids, to hold back the tears. It was no longer just grief. It was an absence that devoured him.

He would have given anything for a single word from her. Even a harsh word. Even an insult. Anything. Anything, as long as it wasn't this emptiness.

Yn had waited until the house was asleep to turn on her phone. She lay in bed with the light off, her hands on her stomach. Sometimes she felt slight movements - discreet but very real - like a reminder that her life had changed forever.

With a heavy heart, she unlocked her screen and opened a folder hidden at the back of her gallery. Code name: Winter. Inside, hundreds of videos, photos, vocals. All that remained of him. Of them.

She played a voice at random. Seungmin's voice filled the room. He sang into a studio microphone between takes, then laughed, "Did you hear that? This one's for you. Even if I missed the last note."

She put a hand in front of her mouth, tears welling up without warning. She tried not to cry, especially around the baby. But tonight was too much.

Then she opened their old conversation. Not the one she'd blocked. The other one. The one she'd transferred to a secondary app, where all messages were archived. Because she couldn't delete them. Because she needed to read them again and again, even if it broke her heart every time.

She scanned the dozens of messages he'd sent since the breakup. They were all there. Some heartbreaking. Others confused, or filled with restrained anger.

She pressed the phone to her chest, her eyes closed. She wanted to answer him. She wanted to tell him everything: that she was pregnant. That she still loved him. That she thought about him every second. That the baby had his features in the rare dreams she had.

But she couldn't. Not yet. Not until everything was clear. Not until she knew how to face her family, or what Seungmin would become if his name to her brought everything crashing down around him.

- "I'm sorry..." she murmured to the silence, tears rolling down her cheeks.

She lowered her eyes to his belly and placed her hand on it, gently.

- "Daddy loves you, you know... He doesn't know it yet, but he already does."

And in that almost sacred silence, she felt a little tap against her palm.

She burst into tears again, because it was all too beautiful... and too painful at the same time.

That day, Yn had spent the morning at the conservatory. It was nothing out of the ordinary: a class, a few rehearsals, a bit of piano to clear the head. She caught herself smiling slightly as she felt a light tap in her stomach as she played. The kind of suspended moment she kept to herself.

On the way home, everything seemed normal.

The big house was bathed in an almost religious silence, as always. The flowers in the hall had been changed, and soft light filtered through the large bay windows. She politely greeted one of the cleaning ladies as she passed, but this time... she noticed something strange.

The woman's gaze lingered a little too long on her belly.

Just a little.

And in the bedroom, later, she understood why: one of the drawers she'd carefully hidden behind bags of laundry had been left ajar. Inside: a box with her ultrasound scans. A stuffed toy she'd bought on the sly. A couple of small items of clothing. And the test. Lying there like a time bomb.

She ran downstairs and found the cleaning lady in the scullery. Her face was closed, but not hostile. More like... worried.

Yn almost fell to his knees in front of her, his hands trembling.

- "Please... don't say anything. I'm begging you not to. Just... not now. I... I don't have anyone."

The housekeeper hesitated for a long moment, then nodded slowly. A simple:

- "All right."

No smile. Not warmth. But agreement.

Yn had thought he could breathe again.

Until evening.

She was sitting in her room, wrapped in a blanket, staring out the big window. It was raining. She gently stroked her belly in silence, her eyelids heavy.

Then she heard the front door open.

Her father.

She didn't even have to turn her head to sense that something was wrong. There was an unbearable tension in the air. And when she finally looked up... she saw his gaze. Frozen. Black. Icy.

And she understood.

He knew.

- "Dad..." she said, in a trembling voice, as she straightened up, her heart beating wildly.

- "Dad, please... I can explain everything..."

But he gave her no time.

In three steps, he was on top of her. His hand brutally seized her hair, pulling so hard she cried out in pain. He screamed, in a voice she'd never heard him use before. A voice full of rage, shame, betrayal.

- "YOU HAVE DISHONORED US!"

She tried to struggle, to get up, but he dragged her out of the living room, almost pulling her to the floor.

- "Stop it! Daddy, please, the baby-!"

But he couldn't hear any more.

He pulled her abruptly down the stairs. She fell halfway down the last few steps, her body trembling with fear, tears welling up uncontrollably.

And then he threw her down, there, in front of her mother, sitting on the sofa, livid.

The silence was more chilling than the screams. Mother said nothing. Not a word. Only that look.

That empty look. Disappointed. Icy.

Yn struggled to her feet, resting her protective hands on her belly, shaking with sobs.

She wanted to disappear.

But she was no longer alone.

- "WHO IS IT?!"

Her father's voice burst through the living room like a slap. Yn curled up, her face swollen with tears, kept her arms crossed over her belly to protect what mattered most.

- "Tell me. Tell me who put that in your stomach! WHO?!"

She said nothing.

Just a faraway, drained look.

He approached, gave her a brutal slap that turned her head to the side. A red streak appeared almost immediately on her cheek. She didn't scream. She took it. Because she'd learned to keep quiet. Because she was too scared.

- "How long have you been?! How long have you been lying to me?!"

Another slap.

She felt a metallic taste in her mouth, but she refused to speak. She didn't want to drag Seungmin into this. She didn't want him to go through this madness. He didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve them.

Her mother, silent until now, suddenly stood up, her voice trembling.

- That's enough. Stop it, stop it. You see her, don't you? She's pregnant-"

- "YOU. SHUT UP!" he yelled without even looking at her.

Then he grabbed Yn by the arm, and she struggled, this time, a little, just a little. But not enough.

He grabbed her hand.

And he squeezed.

Too hard. Much too hard.

She screamed, a sharp, inhuman cry, as a sharp crack echoed through the room. Two of her fingers bent at an odd angle. The pain was searing, suffocating. She collapsed to the floor, breathless, unable to hold back her sobs.

- "You want to play that? I'm game. Until you tell me who it is, you're no longer my daughter. This house no longer belongs to you."

He pulled her to the entrance.

She was begging.

- "Daddy... daddy, please, think of the baby... I'm sorry... I'm begging you..."

But he opened the door. And pushed her out.

The night chill hit her like a wall. She was barefoot. She shivered, bent double, her hand hanging down, on fire. But she drummed on the door, desperate.

- "Daddy, daddy, please! He didn't ask for it, it's not his fault! I didn't... I didn't mean to embarrass you, I just..."

She collapsed against the door.

Then she felt a dull pain in her stomach. A kind of contraction, strange, violent. She paled.

She knew it was a bad sign.

This time, she really screamed.

- SEUNGMIN! It's Seungmin, okay?! He's the father!"

Silence.

A sharp slam.

The door slowly reopened.

He appeared, cold, implacable. He said nothing. He grabbed his phone from his vest pocket and slipped it into his own. Then he grabbed Yn by the arm, ignoring her moans of pain and trembling.

He dragged her to her room.

He slammed the door behind her. And locked it.

Yn collapsed to the floor, leaning against the wall, clutching her stomach with her still-valid hand, the other twisted against her chest. She was suffocating. Not from pain. But from fear. Isolation. The emptiness.

She murmured between sobs, almost to herself:

- "I'm here, baby... I'm here. I won't leave you. I promise..."

But she herself was no longer sure she could keep that promise.

Morning was barely filtering through the large curtains when the bedroom door opened.

Yn was lying on the cold floor, where she had collapsed the day before. Her face scarred, her hair a mess on her shoulders, her fractured hand swollen and reddened. The other rested gently on her belly, protective even in unconsciousness. She wasn't really asleep, she was just... exhausted. Broken.

A low, masculine voice cut through the silence.

- "Mademoiselle...?"

She opened her eyes slowly, blinking against the light that flooded the room. In front of her, a man in a white coat crouched. A doctor. He carried a leather satchel at his side and wore thin-framed glasses.

- I'm Dr. Baek. Your father asked me to come and examine your hand."

She nodded weakly.

But she said nothing.

The doctor approached, delicate, and began to observe her injured hand without immediately touching it. His gaze was different. More human. He didn't seem there to judge. Just to heal.

- Two fractures. Here and here. We're going to have to immobilize. I'd need to get an X-ray, but... I doubt they'll let me take you anywhere."

Yn looked him in the eye at last. There was a strange silence between them, then she whispered:

- "I'm pregnant."

He didn't answer immediately. He merely tilted an eyebrow, then nodded slowly.

- "I know."

- "He... he's going to keep me locked up in here, isn't he?"

He straightened up, pulled a light splint and something to ease the pain from the bag. He spoke little, but he was attentive. Every gesture was precise, almost reassuring despite the context.

- I can't take a stand. But... it's not for him to decide what you do with your body. Nor your life."

She felt the tears welling up again. Not violent. Just there, calm, slow. Tears of fatigue. Of injustice. Of helplessness.

The doctor finished bandaging her hand carefully.

- "I'll come back tomorrow. I'll bring you something to treat the inflammation. And... I'll bring you a duplicate of your tests, if you like."

Yn looked up at him.

- "Thank you."

Before leaving, he paused in the doorway, glancing briefly behind him.

- "You're not on your own. Not while you're carrying this little being."

And he closed the door, leaving Yn, her heart still tight, but this time... a little less alone than yesterday.

The tour was coming to an end.

Suitcases were beginning to fill up, tired pens were scribbling the last dedications, and members were laughing as they shared their end-of-concert dishes. All except Seungmin.

He was just pretending.

For days, he'd been wearing this mask of professionalism with a thread that threatened to crack with every forced smile. He barely slept. He ate without hunger. Yn's videos, photos, voice notes looped through his phone, which he never had in his hands so often. And his messages... always blocked. Always unanswered.

He'd stopped counting them.

That day, as they were packing up for their imminent return to Seoul, their manager entered the common room in a hurry. He swept his gaze around the room, spotted Seungmin and approached without delay.

- "Seungmin, come with me for two seconds."

His tone was neutral, but his gaze was urgent. Seungmin frowned slightly and followed without saying a word.

They moved a little away from the others, into a quiet corridor of the hotel. The manager checked that no one was listening, then took a deep breath.

- "Get your things ready now. You're flying back to Seoul tonight on a private flight."

Seungmin blinked, taken aback.

- "Huh? Why?"

The manager lowered his eyes for a second, then resumed without answering directly:

- "Don't ask any questions. I'll tell you when you're on the plane. You've got to come home. It's important."

- "But... what's going on? Is someone... is it Yn?"

His heart had raced before he'd even finished the sentence. He sensed something was wrong. And the manager's silence, that slight twitch in his eyes, only confirmed his worst suspicions.

- "Get ready, Seungmin. And above all... stay calm."

It was the last thing he heard before running to his room, hands shaking, sweeping everything into his suitcase in a hurry.

He had no idea what awaited him in Korea.

But deep down, he knew that something had broken.

And that Yn's name had never stopped beating in the hollow of his temples.

Yn's sleep was never deep these days. She dozed more than she really slept, her body tense with pain, fear... and that hand always resting on her belly like a reflex, an anchor, a shield.

That morning, it was a sharp pain that woke her from this half-sleep.

- Get up."

Her father.

He had opened the door with a bang and approached her ruthlessly. With a brutal gesture, he pulled back the thin blanket covering her legs, and Yn gasped in panic, immediately folding her wounded arm against her.

- "You get ready. You get dressed. We're going out."

She looked up at him, still half in the blur of waking, her heart beating wildly.

- "We... we're going where?" she asked, her voice hoarse.

- "You're asking too many questions. You want to live here like a parasite, so you do as you're told. Get ready."

He turned on his heels, slammed the door. No word about her still swollen hand, or the fever that was beginning to simmer inside her. She stood there for a moment, frozen, her eyes misty, unable to move.

Her belly, under his hand, moved slightly. A gentle pressure, like a silent response.

- "I'm here, I'm here, baby..." she murmured, resting her forehead on her knees, barely breathing.

She had no choice. He'd locked her up for days. Cut off from the world. She still didn't know whether her phone had been destroyed or simply confiscated. She hadn't seen Dr. Baek either. Just the same housekeeper, mute, dropping off cold trays without looking her in the eye.

And now he wanted to take her somewhere.

She stood up slowly, her back aching, her bandaged hand trembling. She pulled on a baggy sweater and baggy pants, and tied her hair up as best she could. She knew how to hide her belly now. She'd learned. Through terror and loneliness.

When she left the room, her father was already waiting for her by the door, keys in hand.

Without a word, she slipped on her shoes. He opened the door.

The sun dazzled her. It had been days since she'd seen him other than through a window.

But deep down, she sensed that this was no ordinary outing.

The journey was made in silence.

Yn sat in the back seat, her untouched hand clasped on the belt, the other resting discreetly against her belly as if, with a simple gesture, she could hide him... or perhaps protect him.

His father said nothing. Concentrating on the road, jaw clenched, his fingers tapped nervously against the steering wheel at every red light.

At first, she didn't understand.

They'd left the residential neighborhood. She'd thought it was a visit to a doctor, perhaps. Or to some administration office to get her to sign some kind of commitment. But as they made their way through Seoul, anxiety mounted.

She recognized a street.

Then a traffic light.

Then the sign, white, discreet, almost too clean: JYP Entertainment.

Her heart stopped dead in her tracks.

- Dad... Dad, no. Not there. Please."

He didn't react.

- "You can't do this. You can't..."

She straightened a little, distraught.

- "Dad, I'm begging you, not there. You don't understand what you're doing!"

He gripped the steering wheel even tighter, his knuckles blanched.

- "Shut up."

- "You're... you're going to ruin her life. You're going to ruin mine. What do you want to do? Humiliate him? Get him fired?!

- "He got you pregnant."

- "I'm the one who didn't tell him! I'm the one who left him! Don't you get it? I'm the one-"

- "He's the one who crossed the line."

- "What do you want to do? You want him to get down on his knees and apologize? Do you want him to disappear? He didn't ask for anything! He doesn't even know!"

He tapped the steering wheel once, curtly, brutally.

- "He'll know."

Yn felt her throat knot, panic overcome her. Her breathing was labored. Every heartbeat burned. She leaned forward, searching for his gaze in the rearview mirror.

- "Dad... Dad, I'm begging you. I've ruined everything all by myself. Leave him out of it. I'm pregnant. I'm... happy. I was happy. You're going to ruin everything, do you understand that?"

He stopped the car dead in front of JYP's building.

He turned to her.

- "Get out."

And this time there was no anger in his voice.

Just a cold decision. Inflexible.

Yn didn't move.

She remained frozen in her seat, her eyes riveted on the large glass letters of the JYP building. Her heart pounded against her ribcage, against her ribs, against her stomach. She felt nauseous, frozen, unable to think straight.

- "I told you to get out," her father repeated.

She squeezed her legs together, backed slightly against the car door. A heavy silence stretched across the cabin, interrupted only by the distant sound of a horn around the corner.

- "You're getting out, now."

- *"No..." she breathed, almost inaudibly. "You can't do this..."

He turned to her, and his gaze didn't waver.

- "You want me to go in there alone and give his name to all the executives? Demand a conference with their management and show them the sonograms? You think that won't open doors for me?"

Yn stiffened. Her throat tightened. She felt her vision blur slightly. He knew full well what this kind of scandal could cause. He knew what it would do to Seungmin. To their relationship. To his career.

He wanted her to bear the responsibility. He wanted her to do the talking.

He wanted to force her to choose: obey or lose everything.

A silence. Then a trembling. A silent tear slid down her cheek, which she quickly wiped away with a trembling flick of her sleeve.

She opened the car door.

She got out slowly, her breath short, her hand on her stomach as a painful reflex. She heard her father lock the car behind her and walk towards the entrance of the building. She tried to swallow her sob, to stay upright. But her legs gave way with every step.

In front of the glass entrance, he looked at her, without waiting, and declared curtly:

- "Follow me. Don't you want to talk? I don't mind. We'll see what they decide."

Yn didn't answer.

But deep inside her, one thing was clear.

She had to stop this.

Even if she had to break herself to do it.

The meeting room was as cold as the faces that occupied it.

Yn sat without a word, her father beside her, straight as an ice wall. Opposite them were three members of JYP's executive staff, a senior manager - the one who oversaw international tours - and a man Yn didn't know, but whom her father had introduced as "her legal advisor".

The blinds were down, the table too long, the tension palpable.

- "Sir [Father's name], we received your urgent request this very morning," began the senior manager, placing his clasped hands on the table. "We understand the seriousness of what you're saying, but..."

- "It's not a rumor," cut in her father coldly. "My daughter is pregnant. By one of your artists. And has been for several months. She's just confirmed it. I'm not here to speculate."

Yn kept her eyes downcast. She felt like her heart was beating in her throat. She could feel the baby moving slowly against her hand resting on her belly. She silently prayed that none of this would reach her.

- "We... need to hear both sides of the story," the staff man said uncomfortably. "And above all... understand the intentions behind this... situation."

- "There's nothing to understand," replied her father, even harsher. "My daughter has been drawn into a covert relationship. She's a minor by the family standards of our association contract. She gave up everything for that boy."

- "That's not true."

Yn's voice was barely audible.

But the silence that followed was total.

She looked up for the first time since the beginning. Tears glistened there, but none fell.

- "I'm the one who left him. I never told him about the baby. He didn't force me into anything. He loved me. Maybe he still loves me."

- "You're lying," her father blurted out. "You're protecting the man who ruined your life."

- "He didn't ruin anything for me."

The manager pinched the bridge of his nose, visibly overwhelmed.

- "We must... we must calm the tone. It's out of the question for this kind of subject to be dealt with in an impromptu meeting, without the legal presence of both parties involved."

The man in the dark suit, the one his father had brought, calmly slid an envelope across the table.

- "We've already prepared a complaint and confidentiality agreement document. All we need is a signature from JYP."

The manager glanced at the envelope, then at Yn.

- "What if the artist concerned decided to acknowledge his responsibilities?"

Yn's father almost burst out laughing.

- "Then I hope for your sake you're prepared to bury his career."

- "I... Can I go to the bathroom?"

Her voice barely trembled, but Yn felt everyone turn to her. Her father, annoyed at first, opened his mouth to refuse. But one of the managers intervened:

- "Let her be. She's pregnant."

Silence stretched. Then a nod. She rose slowly, trying to keep her gait assured, even though everything inside her vibrated with tension.

But once in the corridor, she turned left instead of toward the bathroom.

She was walking fast. She didn't know exactly where he was, but she knew the premises well enough. She knew they were back from tour. She'd heard it in spite of herself during the meeting. Seungmin's back.

She searched every open room with her eyes. She passed familiar corridors, where she'd once waited for him during rehearsals, where he'd sent her messages on the sly to meet him upstairs.

And then... a door ajar. A familiar voice.

There he was. Sitting alone in a small break room, bottle of water in hand, eyes glued to his phone. Tired. Tired.

Yn entered without knocking.

He looked up, surprised. And what he saw in her gaze made him jump to his feet.

- "Yn?"

She couldn't speak.

She crossed the room with hesitant steps, then literally collapsed against him. Her arms around him, her tears bursting all at once, like a dam giving way. She clung to his shirt, squeezing it tight, and all she managed to say was:

- "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..."

- "Hey, hey, hey, what's going on?" asked Seungmin, alarmed. He placed his hands on her shoulders, then against her head, as if to reassure her. "What's the matter, why are you...? Yn, are you crying? Are you all right? What are you doing here?"

But she kept crying, unable to stop, murmuring again:

- "I'm sorry... I didn't mean to, I... I abandoned you, I left you, I ruined everything..."

- "No. No, you explain to me what's going on, now. Why are you here? Why are you saying this? Yn, look at me."

But he doesn't have time to finish his sentence.

The door swings open. A visibly nervous staff member appears in the doorframe.

- Ah, there you are. Come right in. The meeting's already started, everyone's waiting for you."

Yn jumps to his feet, hastily wiping away tears. Seungmin, meanwhile, remains frozen, his gaze going from Yn to the employee, unable to understand what's going on.

- "What meeting?"

But the staff doesn't answer. He merely nods curtly.

- "Hurry up."

Yn looks down, his heart in his throat.

Seungmin, worried, follows her anyway, not understanding that this step into the hallway may be the one that turns everything on its head.

The meeting room door slammed shut behind them. Yn was the first to enter, her shoulders slumped and her eyes glazed over. Seungmin, just behind her, was staring into the room, still at a loss to understand what was going on.

Around the big table were JYP himself, two agency managers, a legal advisor, and... Yn's father. Sitting upright, arms folded, his dark gaze fixed on his daughter as if he could see nothing else.

All eyes turned to them. The silence in the room was almost brutal.

Seungmin swallowed.

He recognized the man immediately. He knew what Yn's father looked like, although he'd never seen him in real life. He was all over the business papers, invited to major conferences, known all over the country. And suddenly, everything became clear in his mind: he'd discovered our relationship.

A shiver ran down his spine.

He clenched his fists without even realizing it.

Yn sat down without a word, staring into space. Seungmin hesitated for a second before settling down next to her, glancing around the room.

Seungmin's manager spoke up, in a cautious tone:

- "Thank you for coming so quickly. It's about time we had this conversation, all of us together."

Yn's father huffed loudly, as if all this was costing him more than it should.

- "I want to know how long this has been going on. How long my daughter has been... involved."

Seungmin opened her mouth to reply, but one of JYP's managers interrupted her gently:

- "Seungmin, before you answer... we want to be very clear. This is not an interrogation. But under the terms of your contract, any hidden relationship of this nature has consequences, you know that. So it's crucial that you tell us everything, honestly, from the beginning."

Seungmin looked at Yn. She kept her eyes riveted to his lap. And in that instant, something changed in his gaze.

He straightened up, inhaled deeply, and replied, calmly, in a clear voice:

- "It's been almost three years."

A murmur crossed the room.

Yn's father half straightened:

- "Three years?! Three years you've been hiding this?!"

But Seungmin remained upright.

- "Yes. We've done everything to make sure no one finds out. Out of respect for his image. For yours. For my career too. We were careful. No one found out."

- "And now she's pregnant," the father cut in coldly, "and you dare to say you were careful?"

Seungmin froze for a moment.

He slowly turned his head towards Yn.

She hadn't looked up... but her silence confirmed everything.

It was like a blow to the chest. The breath left his lungs. Everything that hadn't yet taken shape, everything he hadn't wanted to understand... clicked into place in a single second.

- "She's... pregnant?"

Yn closed his eyes. A silent tear rolled down his cheek.

- "From me?"

Her voice had broken.

Seungmin's silence was heavy, icy. He stared blankly at Yn, completely stunned. She still didn't speak. Her hand trembled in her lap, and when she finally met his eyes, it was as if she were breaking from the inside out. She burst into tears.

Not quiet tears.

Uncontrollable sobs, muffled by his hand over her mouth, her back bent, her chest heaving painfully with every breath. And while she collapsed, the world around them went on as if nothing had happened.

Yn's father sat up a little straighter, about to speak again, but it was JYP who raised his hand.

His voice, calm and sharp as an ice blade, echoed through the room:

- "I think we've all figured it out by now."

All eyes turned to him.

- "Now we have to think about what's next. And at this stage, there's only one viable solution to preserve Seungmin's image and that of Mademoiselle's family."

He cast a quick glance at Yn, who was trying in vain to contain her tears.

- "A marriage. Discreet at first, but well framed. We'll draw up a contract this afternoon, provided of course that the girl's father agrees."

Seungmin slowly raised her head, breathless.

- "A what?"

But no one answered. Not yet.

Yn's father frowned, but said nothing. He was thinking. JYP continued:

- "We'll be holding a second meeting in the next few days, once the terms of the contract have been validated. We'll also need to discuss official communications. If it takes place. Or if we choose to keep this situation confidential."

Yn had stopped crying from exhaustion, but his hands were still shaking. Seungmin, on the other hand, hadn't moved. He hadn't even processed what he'd just heard.

Marriage? A contract?

It was as if someone was talking about them without them being there.

The meeting was adjourned without either of them saying a word. Yn's father greeted the JYP members coldly, then left the room without even looking at his daughter. The rest of the staff scattered, each taking their files, chatting in hushed tones, as if none of this was serious. As if it were just a logistical problem.

Seungmin didn't move.

As for Yn, she just sat there, blank-eyed, frozen, as if she could no longer feel her own body. When at last the room was empty, he rose slowly, walked around the table, and crouched in front of her.

- "Yn..."

She blinked, barely conscious.

- "Yn, look at me, please."

She did so, eyes reddened, lashes wet, breath still ragged.

He placed his hand on hers, gently.

- "You're pregnant."

She nodded, silently, as if ashamed to confirm it. And there, in her voice, there was no anger. Just deep distress.

- "Why didn't you tell me?"

Her voice was barely a whisper.

Yn opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Her heart was on fire, but she had no strength left to explain.

Then she suddenly leaned towards him, and embraced him. Her face buried in his neck, her arms around him, trembling, desperate.

- "I didn't want your career to fall apart... I ruined everything, I'm sorry, Seungmin, I'm sorry..."

He hugged her tightly, without thinking, without even answering. Just keeping her there, against him, as if to fix her.

- "You didn't ruin it for me," he breathed. "You just took away my right to be here."

Yn burst into tears again, unable to stand without him.

And for a moment, there was no contract, no reputation, no family.

Just the two of them.

And that secret beating between them, close to her stomach.

They remained entwined for a few minutes. Seungmin didn't speak, just felt her uneven breath against his neck, her heart beating too fast, her pain almost palpable. And he wished this moment would never end - that she would stay there, in his arms, far from all this, far from the pressure, the looks, the absurd decisions being made for them.

But a voice abruptly tore them from their bubble.

- "Miss Yn?"

They jerked to their feet. A young staff member stood in the doorway, uncomfortable, glaring.

- "Your father's expecting you."

Yn stepped back slightly, and she lowered her head.

Seungmin immediately felt her hand tighten in his.

She murmured, barely audible:

- "I don't want to go."

But she knew she had no choice.

She gently pulled away from Seungmin, wiped away her tears with an awkward gesture, and nodded to the staff.

Before leaving, she turned her head briefly to him, her eyes full of sadness and fear.

- "I'm sorry."

And without giving him time to reply, she left.

The door closed softly.

Seungmin was left alone, sitting on the chair she'd just left, his eyes on the exact spot where she'd been standing a few seconds earlier. He felt empty. Broken. And powerless.

As soon as the door closed behind Yn, Seungmin froze for a few seconds, his heart racing. A lump had formed in his throat, and he felt that if he stayed another minute in that room, he'd suffocate.

He quickly left the building, without telling anyone. He didn't really know what he was doing or where he was going, but his footsteps eventually led him to his parents' apartment in Incheon.

He knocked, and his mother opened, surprised.

- "Seungmin? What... I heard you were still on tour?"

He simply nodded, his eyes tired, his features drawn.

- "I know... but I had to come and talk to you."

She stepped back, letting him in, worried now as she saw his condition. He sat in the living room, not saying a word for a few moments. Then, finally, he took a shaky breath.

- "Yn's pregnant."

His mother froze. He continued, in a low tone.

- "It's from me. And I just found out... today."

He clenched his fists.

- "She kept it all to herself. She left me just before I went on tour, without explaining anything. And I just realized why. Her family... especially her father... he's... he's controlling her, watching her. He even hit her. I think she hurt her hand, but she's not saying anything."

He rested his elbows on his knees, took his head in his hands.

- "And I don't know what to do, Mom. I... I don't want to make a mistake. They want to force us to get married to preserve our images. They didn't even ask me if I agreed. We just became parts in their plans."

He lifted his head toward her, his eyes red with emotion.

- "I feel helpless. And I needed to tell you, to you. I need someone to listen to me without it being to control my career or save a reputation."

His mother, silent until then, stepped closer and laid a gentle hand on his back.

- "You did well to come."

[___]

Evening had long since fallen, and Yn's room was bathed in a quiet gloom, softened by the warm glow of her bedside lamp. She was lying on her side, her hair spread in a curly mess on the pillow, one hand resting on her round belly under the blanket.

She murmured softly, into the silence:

- "You know... I'm scared. I'm afraid of what they'll decide for us. I'm afraid they'll take you away from me. But I swear... I swear I already love you more than anything."

A light tap under her hand made her smile despite the tears that were slowly running down her cheeks. She closed her eyes, clenching her teeth to keep from melting further.

Then, suddenly, a thump. A discreet but insistent knock-knock-knock against the glass.

Yn froze. Her heart began to beat faster. She sat up slowly, pulled the curtain slightly aside.

And her breath caught.

- "Seungmin..." she breathed, mouth ajar.

There he was, outside, dressed in a dark sweater, a bag on his back, his locks tousled by the wind. He had that same worried, tender look he'd always had when he'd sneaked in to see her, during the nights of their early years together.

It wasn't the first time he'd passed through this window. But tonight was different. He wasn't coming for a stolen moment. He'd come because he couldn't stay away any longer.

Yn hurriedly opened the window. He climbed in silently, with the ease of habit, then stood there, facing her, not knowing what to say.

His eyes fell on the bandage around her hand. He paled.

She looked away, murmuring:

- "You shouldn't be here..."

- "I know." he breathed. "But I couldn't take it anymore. I couldn't sleep thinking about you. Of... of you."

He looked down briefly at his belly, still inconspicuous under the fabric.

- "I just... wanted to make sure you were okay. Even if you're not. Just... see that you're breathing. That you're here."

Yn nodded, tears at the edges of her lashes. She stepped back slightly to make room for him on the bed.

- "You want to... stay a while?"

- "You might as well leave me."

And he sat down beside her. She rested her head on his shoulder. For a moment, they said nothing. The silence was heavy, but full of what they didn't yet dare to say.

Then she whispered, almost imperceptibly:

- "He saw you as a threat... but you were just the place I felt at home."

Seungmin closed his eyes, his arms around her, holding her to him as if he could protect her from the whole world.

The silence was almost sacred, lulled by the beating of their hearts. Yn had closed his eyes for a moment, his cheek resting against Seungmin's shoulder, gently breathing in his presence, as if to make sure he was real.

But suddenly, he moved.

She looked up, confused, and saw him get off the bed to kneel before her.

- "Seungmin?"

He gently took both her hands, holding them in his with disarming tenderness. His gaze was serious, trembling, but deeply sincere.

- "Yn... I'm not going to pretend. I don't want to get married."

She stared at him, lips parted, already about to close like a shell, thinking he would back down.

But he continued, his voice vibrant:

- "Not because I don't want to be with you. Not because I'm afraid of you or the baby. But because I'm afraid... that I'm not up to it. Because I don't feel ready. And that it's too big a responsibility... to do this under pressure, without even time to breathe."

Yn felt his throat tighten.

But Seungmin squeezed her hands a little tighter.

- "But I love you." He inhaled, deeply. "And I don't want to lose you. Not you, not him. Or her."

He glanced softly down at her belly, then back to her eyes.

- "So if getting married means getting you out of this house, this prison... if it means being able to protect you from him... if it means we can be together, without hiding, and you can finally breathe... then okay."

His voice trembled, but he remained firm.

- We'll do it. Not for the image, not for them. But for you. For the baby. For the three of us."

Yn, unable to hold back her tears, threw herself into her arms. She encircled him as if afraid she'd never see him again, her sobs muffled against his neck.

- "I was so scared..." she whispered, broken. "I thought you'd be mad at me. That you'd forget me. That I'd ruined everything."

- "Never." he breathed. "You haven't lost me, Yn. You never lost me."

And in that silent room, between tears, promises, doubts, and the weight of the world, two young souls decided to try. Together.

The next few days passed without respite. As the tour drew to a close, the Stray Kids finally returned to Korea. There was something different about Seungmin. Even Hyunjin, who usually liked to tease him, had stopped at the threshold of his room, his eyebrows furrowed.

- "You look ten years older, man."

Seungmin hadn't replied. He'd just nodded, and Hyunjin, for once, had restrained himself from insisting.

Meanwhile, back at JYP, the wheels were in motion. An official meeting was held to prepare the terms of the marriage contract between Yn and Seungmin. Yn's father was there, rigid as an ice wall, watching every word.

Sitting in the large meeting room, Yn clutched the armrests of her chair. Seungmin, beside her, glanced up at her, slipping his hand discreetly over hers under the table.

A company lawyer was spelling out the terms:

- "The contract stipulates that the marriage must last a minimum of five years before either party can file for divorce. This is to preserve the stability of the group's public image, as well as the reputation of Miss...'s family."

He continued, unperturbed:

- "... Public appearances will have to be reduced. The child's existence will not be made public until a formal agreement has been reached between both parties and the agency. Any decision concerning the child will have to be validated by the legal representatives."

Yn felt her stomach knot. This wasn't a marriage contract. It was a pact. A rigid framework, a perfectly orchestrated setting. And yet Seungmin, beside her, kept a straight face.

At the end of the meeting, JYP spoke up, hands folded on the table.

- "It's not an ideal solution. But in this world, we don't always get our way. This contract won't be a prison... but a balance. So that you can live your life, without destroying everything around you."

Yn's father nodded with satisfaction.

Seungmin, however, turned to Yn and murmured softly:

- "We'll find gaps. Places to breathe."

She looked at him. And in his eyes, she knew he meant it.

The weeks passed at a strange speed - too slow the days of silence, too fast those of preparation. Between appointments at the agency, tailors taking measurements, calls between lawyers, Seungmin and Yn's life slipped into an absurd, almost unreal routine.

The wedding was approaching, but the world didn't really know about it. Rumors had leaked out about a potential couple around Seungmin, but nothing concrete. Fans guessed, speculated, commented... but the agency managed with a firm hand. As long as nothing was confirmed, the truth remained a whisper.

And that morning, for the first time, Seungmin accompanied Yn to her ultrasound scan.

In the white room, an almost sacred calm reigned. She lay staring at the ceiling. He was standing next to her, his jaw clenched. He hadn't said a word on the way. He'd just been there. That was all.

The doctor, a gentle, methodical man, smiled at her as he handed her the cold gel.

- "Let's take a look at this. You're almost 24 weeks, right?"

Yn nodded. She squeezed Seungmin's hand a little. And he, without a word, wrapped his fingers around her.

Then the screen lit up.

The heartbeat. That rapid, vibrant sound, familiar to Yn - new to Seungmin.

Her eyes widened. And when the image appeared, a small profile, legs bent, movements slow but clear... he leaned in, almost breathless.

- "It's..." His voice broke slightly. "Is that our baby?"

Yn gently turned her head toward him, her eyes shining. She nodded, a trembling smile on her lips.

The doctor explained the details, the baby's position, its development. But Seungmin wasn't really listening. He stared at the screen, unable to look away. Then, without warning, he whispered:

- "He's perfect."

Yn closed his eyes. Just for a moment. A moment of peace. A moment of truth. As if the world, for once, truly belonged to them.

And when the ultrasound was over, when she put her clothes back on and they stepped out into the hallway, he took her hand in his, without hesitation this time.

- "I want to be here for all of this. For every moment. Even the scary ones."

Yn turned to face him. He wasn't perfect. He was scared. But he was there. And that was all she needed.

[bettertwin1]

Nothing more humbling than trying to pull the blanket up and punching yourself square in the jaw instead.

[lyrefromthesea]

How would the hashira react if we accidentally pushed him off the bed while sleeping?

Male hashira x Reader - It's OUR bed

pairing: Tengen x Reader, Obanai x reader, Rengoku x reader, Sanemi x reader, Giyuu x reader, Gyomei x reader

content warning: none

Tengen:

• he wakes up before he even hits the ground. did you just push him down? he immediately checked, but realizes you aren't awake.

• with a quiet scoff, which turned into an even more quiet laugh, he stands up and takes his original place in bed again.

• to make sure that you're not pushing him down another time, he wraps his arm around you, pulling you close enough to nearly use him as a bed instead.

Obanai:

• he hits the ground and nearly panics. if you pushed him out of the bed in your sleep, then maybe you subconsciously didn't like having him close.

• he's quick to disregard that thought, because you quietly stirred next to him, as if you couldn't sleep without him.

• when he finally takes his place in bed again, he lets his fingers brush against yours, wanting to have contact with you. he feels his heart swell when you wrap your arms around his and press it against your body.

Rengoku:

• falls out of the bed and stares at the ceiling with his big owl eyes. he sits up straight in a matter of seconds, asking what just happened.

• though he didn't want that to happen, he accidently wakes you up. seeing you yawn and rub your eyes, he stands up to comfort you into slumber again.

• he'll hold you close to his chest, so you can fall asleep to the sound of his heartbeat.

Sanemi:

• he lands on the ground face first, his hand still clinging onto your arm. the reflex that usually was there to protect you, took you down with him this time.

• the air got knocked out of his lungs after you fell on top of him, letting out a quiet groan. the man turned his face to the side, grumbling in his tired voice, while he felt you get up.

• he's too tired to even talk about it, letting himself fall into bed again and pulling you with him. he ends up falling asleep on top of you, your cheek squished against the top of his head.

Giyuu:

• he sleeps on his side, when you accidently pushed him down the bed, it made him fall onto his back pretty hard. it normally wouldn't have bugged him, he was a hashira and knew how to handle pain. unfortunately, his muscles ached after the fall, because he had landed rather unlucky.

• he won't say anything or wake you up, because he doesn't want to disturb your sleep. expect for the quiet grunt leaving him, he makes sure to keep absolute silence and hold you close again.

• when you see him feel unwell the next day and ask what's wrong, he'll explain it to you. "why didn't you say anything, i would've helped immediately!" he fell silent, his cheeks flushing. he had been too shy to ask for your help.

Gyomei:

• he was sleeping on the edge of the bed to begin with. it wasn't your fault when you turned and bumped against him, making the man fall down the bed.

• he opens his eyes slowly, hands feeling the ground under him, eventually brushing against the blanket that was hanging down the bed.

• it didn't hurt and it was clearly an accident, he didn't see any reason to talk about it. instead he stands up again, makes sure that you sleep in a proper position and puts a protective arm around you.

• you may never know what happened, but that didn't disturb him. he loved you after all.

[appleblueberry-pie]

Explaining your First Love to the Yandere's

A/N: "The Yandere's", meaning as many yandere's i think I can characterize as yandere's as perfectly as possible without burning myself out. Also, are the pictures too much?????? Also, I couldn't find a good pic for Sugu without picking the one where he's literally going insane LMAOOO. Love how my semi-debut for my yandere characterization for him is shown w a not so pleasant picture of him(they're all perfect). Anyways, this is probably gonna be my most chaotic, yet organized, post about jjk ever. I have a solid plan and will go through with it. It's friday and this is me "letting loose" before the weekend. Also, the first love story will be pulled from my own experience. With multiple twists to it to make it sound as interesting as possible.

SCENARIO:

"Mmmm. I remember my first love." You hum in a pleasant tone as you start to reminisce events of who you first gave your heart to. "I loved him so much, it was insane. Because....we grew up with each other. We used to be like this." You twist your fingers together, smiling at him as you explain. "He was an embodiment of me, as I was of him. I don't remember a time we weren't friends. I think it helps to mention that our mom's were friends and they were neighbors. So....we've always known each other. He's a year older than me."

You two were out in the park on the grass. He suggested a little picnic together, hoping to bring you two closer so he could possibly make more moves to be more than a friend. But you were so oblivious to it, even going as far as talking of your first love as if you still missed this stupid asshole.

"I still miss him." You go silent for a few seconds and stare down at the checkered blanket, smiling. He gapes a little and resists the urge to scoff. "We both loved playing video games, we watched the same tv shows, went to the same elementary school....a lot of things happened between us. He didn't like me back, though. I confessed to him when I was 9 and he said no." You laugh. "But even then, I still loved him. I still feel it, too. For some reason, my love for others doesn't really go away. Just sits at the bottom of my heart to make more room for others."

You sigh and continue talking about the guy. "He just grew more and more....attractive as I grew up. I am pretty sure he's why I have my type that I have in men currently. He's very tall....a deep voice." You sigh, closing your eyes to remember. "Relaxed, closed off.....I heard him on the phone when our moms were talking a month ago. He sounds....so different. I don't even know what I'd do with myself if I saw him again." In real time, he watched you unravel slowly to show how.....inf*tuated you were with this guy. You were so focused on naming his qualities. As if you could picture him perfectly in your mind.

"I'm so glad we don't talk to each other anymore. I ruined our relationship. Said a few inappropriate things I shouldn't have said at the wrong time. I haven't spoken to him in....6 years. And I'd rather it stay that way, honestly. Because he's a rather boring person outside of his physical attributes. But I have attachment issues." You pick up one of the snacks laid out between the two of you. "Yeah. I'm done talking about him. I would rather not think of him anymore."

YANDERE REACTIONS:

Sukuna:

Sukuna was baffled. Anger, frustration, fear, and even jealousy kept his tongue from moving. He thought this moment wouldn't ever happen in his life. He thought this wasn't a possibility. Your extreme disloyalty to him was what made him clench his hands in anger. But if he rationally thought about this, you don't know. You don't know how much he loves you. How much the Ryomen Sukuna loves you. You were supposed to be his in all lifetimes. He felt like he absolutely knew you were pure. You smelled pure and your energy felt pure when he first met you. So why were you fixing your mouth to say such disgusting and unfaithful words to him as if he wasn't right there?

He wanted to ask you if you've been trying to give yourself to him like a whore, but he knew that was just him overreacting. He wouldn't ever say such things to you, anyways. He wanted to change for you and was trying, starting with these stupid little date settings he knew you loved. A fucking park. And here he was being stabbed in the chest multiple times without your knowledge of it. It was all your doing.

He might be human in this lifetime. He might be nothing but a mere human for you to toy with freely, and he would let you do it to him. But he would never allow a puny roach get in the way of getting what he deserves. He deserves you and he will have you, one way or another. And if that means cutting a small piece of your heart out just to keep the rest, then so be it. He can't have any piece of you in him. Just thinking about him makes another vessel pop in his body somewhere. He will kill this thing.

Kento:

Maybe he was overbearing. He really just couldn't help but feel insecure. There should be no real reason for you to bring up a man from the past. Someone that should clearly be out of your mind. Was he boring? What did that fool have that he didn't? And why did you mention it while you two were on this date??(It wasn't a date, but it felt like it to him) Maybe he was too plain. Men like him were just smokers and loners, of course you'd bring up someone else that can satiate your desire for real love. It's all because he couldn't. Not in the way you want to be loved.

But he knew, he knew that he was enough. He knew he was your type as well, so, what did you mean by he was the type you have in men?? What does that mean for him? Will you use him and throw him away? He doesn't want to be used and tossed out like trash. He wanted to be yours forever. He wanted to be your man. Your man. He wanted to be your lover, your obsesser and the one you obsess over, not that imbecile. He wanted to be skin to skin, he wanted to be under your skin, he wanted to make his mark on you and for you to do the same to him. He deserves your love. But here you are expressing it for another man you haven't even spoken to in over 6 years. He deserves that type of commitment, there's nothing he's done to deserve it this late.

"I love you." The words slip out like oil on water. And it makes his heart oh, so much lighter.

Suguru:

"Heavens. I'm glad you aren't talking with him now." Suguru chuckles and shakes his head, peeling off more strawberry leaves for you. "This is why." He points with the strawberry at the people walking past and then gives you the strawberry. "This is why I don't want you talking with them. They do this to hold you in their clutches, I've seen it." Suguru sighs as he recalls your story in his mind. Jesus, was it trying to hypnotize you? If so, it was working. No worries, it won't be around to mess with your mind much longer.

"They actively lie, they laze around, let their emotions control them, and then try to manipulate you to stay with them to be their stepping stool." He brushes your hair back neatly, and you scrunch your eyebrows at his words. "But I know you're better than him. Better than all of them." He calls out your name and stares into your eyes with a look that makes you flustered. What is his problem?

"You are the light. You are one of the most strongest and intelligent sorcerers I have seen of this time. You hold up your potential and continue to blow my mind with how beautiful your soul is. I am constantly drawn to you and your energy, I never get enough of it. I don't ever want to hinder you and I don't want anyone else to hinder your energy. That's why I will kill that filthy animal that tried to touch you." It's scary, the way he maintains eye contact with you and spits the nastiest insult about the man you once loved with your whole heart.

"I can't wait to get to know you better. You've been teaching me so much. Maybe you can tell me about your favorite nature spots and we can relax there whenever you're free. And sometime later, I could also take you to meet my family. You'll love my two daughters." He laughs lightly, knowing Nanako and Mimiko would adore finally having a real mother worth of raising them. Together, you and him would be unstoppable.

Choso:

Choso was finished with peeling the mandarin for you. You kind of were confused about how he went about doing this, though. Because all over his lap were the smallest bits of mandarin peels you've ever seen. But the mandarin looked perfect. He obviously took his time. He handed it to you softly, smiling. You accept it happily and begin peeling.

He was surprised he didn't rip the thing apart then and there. Maybe be should peel things more often. The way you so freely spoke about your love for another man when your soulmate was sitting right next to you, peeling fruit open for you was preposterous. He needed a hug. A lemonade, had to kill someone, something. But he stopped killing people for you(secretly), so he has to resort to acting like he's peeling off that devil's skin. Starting from where the shiny skin first shows. The first piece is always the hardest to pick off and it's hard to choose where to begin. But soon enough, the color underneath began to show. He slowly picked off every. Little. Piece. He heard a yelp of pain and cries of "sorry's" in his head for every piece.

Every single little piece made the air smell more and more sweet and tangy. The more you spoke, the faster he picked. The stronger the smell was. So citrus-y and delicious. It made him smile. He loved peeling this mandarin. Then picking off white strips connected to the mandarin itself, so that it was smoother and you had no access peel. Like veins, they came off one by one. He simply stared at it when he was done. Smooth, perfect. Scattered remains laying everywhere on his lap.

He's never felt this way before. What were you doing to him? What is this twisting feeling in his gut that makes him want to puke? Why can't he breathe? Why does he want to kill the kids and mothers at the playground not too far away? He needs you to calm him down.

He hates this park.

"Here you go, angel." He hands it to you, smiling. You looked a little confused at first, but then took it from him, opening it to take a slice. "Oh, this looks real nice, Cho. ......Why are you smiling like that?" He shrugs, picking up one of the strawberries you brought from your place. "Like what...?"

Toji:

Toji was silent. The awkward silence he was creating between the two of you made you nervous. He was sitting close to you, leaning over to you, his arm supporting his weight behind your back with your shoulder touching his chest. He was just staring down at the bowl of strawberries. ".....Toji?" Your soft voice made him sigh.

No, he couldn't do it. Killing you won't kill the pain and anger in his chest. This was probably the angriest he's ever been. He wanted to shout at you to apologize for how you were making him feel. But what he really wanted was to feel your lips on his and for you to shut the fuck up. For some reason, every time you open your mouth, it always ends with him degrading further and further off the side of sanity and just going completely ballistic.

You saw his hand on his hip. The hip that wasn't actually his hip, but was his gun he was resting his hand on. He would feel so much better if those shrieking rats would shut up. Fucking rodents running around you two freely like he wasn't about to ruin everyone's day.

He wouldn't say he was often traumatized, but he could've went his whole life without hearing that story. Now he has to find a random man and kill him for stealing your heart. I mean, the least the bastard could've done was reciprocate his feelings and not leave you feeling helpless. "I could treat you better than that dick." You flinch at his words before smiling, averting your gaze as well. "Oh....." He leans in closer to your face. "Where does he live, huh? Is it the prick with the glasses?" "No?" "The one you work with?" "I-I told you I haven't-" "Eh, whatever. I'll find him and kill him." He smiles at your bashfulness and grabs a few strawberries from the patch.

Sometimes he forgets you don't care much for how he says things. If the right message gets across, you usually don't mind how he says it. But he just blatantly threatened to kill him. You grab the leafless strawberries from his hands and begin eating. Nah. You were his, for sure. He sighs and lays down on the blanket, staring up at the blue sky.

Satoru:

Satoru nodded along with your words, his hands trembling. When you smiled, he did. When you sighed, he would, too. And when you finished your story, he had to swallow the thick bile in his throat. You were just....recalling old memories, that's all. Nothing else. He tried to focus on the grass blades he felt through the blanket. He tried to focus on the sounds of the kids running around squealing.

He watched you eat some of the cold grapes he brought you. They were big, and you praised him lightly for finding such a great batch. He nods quietly and stares down at his lap. Everything was fine. You were fine, and so was he. "Satoru...?" Honey dripping naturally in your voice makes his head turn automatically. The worry etched on your face made the strings holding his mind together break one by one. "Are you alright..? You're sweating."

Nothing was fine. He can't believe you just said that to him. Why would you..? Why did...? Why?.....wait, why?? Why??? Why why why why why why WHY would you do that? Why would you say that to him? He sacrificed so much for you. He killed all of the assassins that went after you when the higher ups found out about you and him getting closer. He paid off your parent's debt secretly. He paid your rent. He woke up early in the mornings to talk to you because he knows you like to wake up to see the sunset. He memorized all of your schedules when you have special weeks, special breaks, he memorized all days that you memorized, he knows what mattress you like to sleep on, he knows how you like certain foods to be seasoned, he knows your favorite weather and season, he didn't fucking learn all of this about you for nothing!! WHY don't you ever appreciate everything he's ever done for you? Why don't you notice him? Why don't you love him? He stalks you every day to understand the type of man you would want to live under your roof and be under your covers and that wasn't enough.

He's been so alone all of his fucking life. No one understood him like you do. He couldn't help but open his ribcage, breaking them off of his body to one by one to let you touch his hot beating heart with your cold fingers. He wants you inside of his heart forever and never let you go, can't you understand that? He hasn't slept in three days, predetermining what he was going to say to you during this picnic, and you tell him that?? Just fucking kill him. Kill him, kick his face, spit on him, ruin him like you're doing now. He clearly doesn't matter.

"Satoru??"

He's supposed to be the one you compare playing video games with, he is supposed to be the one you watch the same tv shows with, he was supposed to go to the same school as you!! His skin is on fire, he can't breathe, his mind hurts, the grass blades are irritating his skin and the children are making his migraine worse. Are you saying something? He can't hear you. His ears are ringing.

He wants to be him. He wants to rip open the skin and spine of the man who lived in your soul since the dawn of time and crawl into his body to experience what he experienced. He wants to do all of those things with you as kids and live with you, grow with you, let him be your infatuation. He wants to rewind time. He wants to die. He wants both of you to die and be reborn to be given a second chance he can never ever have.

"Satoru!"

Your face is twisted into heavy concern and slight fear. Satoru sat in front of you, staring at you. He hasn't moved in three entire minutes. His face was covered in bucket loads of sweat, his lips twisted into a tight smile that threatened to break into a million pieces. The corners of his lips wobbled as if he was going to cry, but his eyes were wide open and dry. His legs, arms, and back stiff as he sits in such an uncomfortable position, it had to hurt. You were scared for him.

Can he hear you? You slowly raise on of your hands to touch his cheek and he flinches under your touch, finally blinking. "Yes?" You purse your lips and bring out a cold water bottle from your basket. "Here, maybe you should drink some water." He takes the water bottle you dropped into his hand. "Thank you." He whispers and sighs, twisting open the cap. You watch him guzzle the whole thing in 5 seconds. "......maybe we should go indoors." He nods, closing the now empty water bottle. "Yeah. The sun is hurting my eyes."

No part 2's. Because I don't like continuing old plot and I love seeing people go crazy for me not continuing good content.

[falesten-iw]

It’s strange when “democracy” means people have to choose between Ivanka’s dad and Ella’s mom, as if that’s supposed to feel empowering. Sure, two bad options don’t feel great, but hey, at least there are options. In some countries, you’d be lucky to get even one choice. And in others? They don’t get elections at all, just a permanent leader who shows up like it’s just another day on the clock. But here democracy feels like a two for one special with a free side of disappointment.

Now that Ivanka’s dad has won. Yes Yes my friend !! Abo Ivanka has won!! And here we are, looking at this system and thinking, “Was this even a choice?” It’s like being asked to pick between plain oatmeal and soggy cereal for breakfast. Sure, it’s technically a choice, but nobody’s excited about it. The two main parties hog the spotlight so completely, they’ve turned “options” into a choice between “slightly bad” and “absolutely dreadful.” And heaven forbid a third-party voice shows up, because here, you need a 50% popularity rating just to get a seat at the grown-ups’ table.

By now, picking a president feels like choosing between the flu and food poisoning. The two big parties are so close in their love for big donors, it’s like watching rival soap operas funded by the same network. We call it “democracy,” but it feels like a rigged game, with mega-donors pulling the strings while the rest of us are just the audience, sitting here with popcorn, hoping the plot somehow gets better.

Sure, many lean toward the Democrats, thinking they’re the “better” choice. But from where I’m sitting, especially as a Palestinian, neither side looks promising. Take Gaza: Democrats have left it in ruins, like a bulldozer at a sandcastle competition, with 80% of the infrastructure leveled and 90% of the people displaced. Now Ivanka’s dad is in charge, and, honestly, we’re past worrying about escalation, because there’s nothing left to escalate to. At this rate, they have already broken the records for destruction and the number of martyred, but the looming fear now is if there’ll be any Gaza left to talk about.

For Palestinians, for Gaza, for much of the world, this isn’t “democracy”; it’s a magic show where they tell you to pick a card, but no matter what you choose, it always comes back to the same card: disaster.

And now, winter’s arrived in Gaza. The nights there? Let’s just say, they’re colder than the stare you’d get from a #### who’s been asked to pay $12 or 15 for a black coffee. My family, like so many others, is living in a tent, a “tent” being a generous word for a few sheets trying to pass for walls. The wind comes in from every side, and huddling under thin blankets in this weather is like fighting a snowstorm with a paper towel. The cold bites to the bone, and there’s no escape; it’s like nature’s way of reminding us we’re still here, exposed.

If you can, please consider donating. Even the smallest help means warmth on a freezing night, a bit of comfort in the middle of a relentless winter. It’s a glimmer of hope for my family and trust me, it’s more welcome than soggy cereal ever could be.

Vetted and shared by @90-ghost: Link.

Verified and shared by @el-shab-hussein: Link

Listed as number 282 in "The Vetted Gaza Evacuation Fundraiser Spreadsheet" compiled by @el-shab-hussein and @nabulsi : Link

Listed on the Butterfly Effect Project, number 957: Link

Additionally, Al Jazeera News has documented apart of my family's case: Link

If, for some reason, you couldn't donate via GoFundMe, you can donate via PayPal instead. Please keep the conversion rates in mind when donating through GoFundMe. Every 250 SEK is equivalent to 25 dollars, and 506 SEK equals 50 dollars and so on.

Note: There’s even a raffle for a handmade Palestinian thob if you want to participate : Link

@timetravellingkitty @deathlonging @briarhips @mazzikah @mahoushojoe

@sar-soor @rhubarbspring @pcktknife @thatdiabolicalfeminist @turtletoria

@sawasawako @feluka @appsa @anneemay @commissions4aid-international

@wellwaterhysteria @mangocheesecakes @kyra45-helping-others @7bitter @tortiefrancis

@watermotif @stuckinapril @mavigator @lacecap @determinate-negation

@socalgal @chilewithcarnage @ghelgheli @sayruq @elbiotipo

@el-shab-hussein @heritageposts @communistkenobi @deepspaceboytoy @molsno

@mesetacadre @forevergulag @gazafunds @northgazaupdates2 @freepalestinneee

@komsomolka @muppet-sex @nabulsi @fading-event-608 @buttercuparry

@prierepaiienne @interact-if @unified-multiversal-theory @inkstay

@socialjusticekitten-blog @socialgoodmoms @nowthisnews @socialgoofy @fightforhumanity-rpg-blog

@fightforhumanity-rp @queerandpresentdanger @90-ghost @timogsilangan @punkitt-is-here

@fox-guardian @hiveswap @valtsv @helppeople @ibtisams

@annoyingloudmicrowavecultist @vakarians-babe @plomegranate @queerstudiesnatural @tamamita

@apollos-boyfriend @akajustmerry @marnosc @flower-tea-fairies @tsaricides

@belleandsaintsebastian @ear-motif @brutaliakent @raelyn-dreams @troythecatfish

@4ft10tvlandfangirl @communistchilchuck @fairuz @sarazucker @fairuzfan

@a-nautilus-as-pixel-art @13eyond13 @stil-lindigo @baby-indie-blog

@marnota @vivisection-gf @brutaliakhoa @the-bastard-king @magnus-rhymes-with-swagness

@neptunerings @malcriada @turian @girlinafairytale @abnormalicacid

@sylvianritual @mothblossoms @autisticmudkip @lesbianmaxevans

@nabulsi27 @palestinegenocide @orblesbian @palebluebutler @pallasisme

@riding-with-the-wild-hunt @baby-girl-aaron-dessner @morallyrainyday @jame7t @el-shab-hussein

@jonpertwee @flipton @bell-bones @ragingbullmode @envytherose

@rodent178 @tangledinourstrings @kraigerzz-blog @frogbrainedfool @the-ending-of-dramamine

@redsavesquare @uninvited-eon @glenbot @ultimateumbreon33 @pitbolshevik

@disastersim @airsigh @cowboy-queer @lapastelr0sa @sharingresourcesforpalestine

@rebel-girl-queen-of-my-world @kropotkindersurprise @cruzwalters @la7ma-mafrooma @rosyish

@bookskittychad @streakoflavender @miraclemaya @devilofthepit @paper-mario-wiki

@gay-yosuke @cometcrystal @nb-marceline @cicadaland @charlott2n

@manletwizard @2blushie @antiauteur @acnologia-is-best-dragon @bitchmael

@penelopiaad @hashiramashonkers @laughtracklesbian @legallymean @b0nkcreat

@crapscicle @uwu-pinata @syntheticspades @momxijinping @longlivepalestina

@saberboi-1 @martinmynster @nako-funky @trans-leek-cookie @vaticinatrix

@moomoobug @narwa @twilightobservationtower @estrellasrojas @knxfesck

@lakeeffectbitch @fatbitchneedsfoodbadly @no-thats-absurd @humanmorph

@sandiwchirlinreal @tcda @misspiggyforvogueitalia @gamb0fficial @vincentspork

@gemstonedraws @frankendykes-monster @mizoguchi @kos-mos @ryoki-ph

@blackwoolncrown @nightwussy @freehologramreview @melancholy-hummingborb

@sister-lucifer @nonbinarymerbabe @raventhecoolestpersonever @ebenrosetaylor @wellwaterhysteria

@inkbomber @collectoroflovelythings @k00ldino @sundung @extrabitterbrain

@names-hard @killaltrock @thatdarngreenpixie-blog @angelsarecomputers @to00fu

@secretgoths @cauli-flawa @faraliniste @adrowninggrip @thesavagesnakeplant

@g-l-a-s-s-h-e-a-r-t-s-s @illuminated-runas @silverstone-gp @saintverse @whalefill

@emathyst9 @trasno-personal @turtles-on-turts @dendrosystem

@readingsquotes @bellybuttonblue2 @bees-fart-too @andiv3r-reblogging @sillyseer

@cloudedcari @tachycardial @evileyeamulet @pompompotato @shamemp3

@jihaad @italofobia @stealthjet @pinnyy @sivavakkiyar

@chronicowboy @bi-worm @ydic74the @amorosebeing @golvio

@dailyquests @punkitt-is-here @opencommunion @postanagramgenerator @a-scary-lack-of-common-sense

[dark-l-angel]

hi!! I saw that you accept request, so I have an idea. It's not really a creative one but I'm obsessed with clingy Jason Todd 😭😭 so I was thinking if you can maybe (please🙏) write something where reader needs to go to work but Jason stops reader because he's needy. Do you get it😭😭

Thank you!

-G.A.

A/N: needy, whiny, bed-hogging Jason who clings like a big heat-emitting emotional weighted blanket telling you to quit that damned job that keeps you away from HIM? YES.. I've been waiting for this moment..

Clingy jason Todd x Reader

Clingy jason, reader is tired of their job. Everything else is fluff

The sun had barely risen. Pale gold light filtered through the curtains you swore you closed the night before, and the shrill alarm on your phone had already gone off.. twice. You were late.

You groaned and shifted, trying to sit up, but you didn’t get far.

There it was. That arm. That damn arm.. muscular, warm, and currently locked like a steel bar across your waist.

"Jason..." you warned softly, already knowing the game he was playing.

He didn’t answer. Not with words, at least. His only response was a muffled grunt into the crook of your neck, his nose nudging against your skin like a sleepy, stubborn dog refusing to move. You could feel his scruff, slightly overgrown, tickling your jaw.

"Jay, I have to go," you tried again, wiggling just enough to reach the edge of the bed.

"Mm-mm" he muttered, holding tighter. "Call in."

"I can’t just call in every time you get clingy-"

"You say that like it’s not a perfectly valid reason.." he interrupted, voice gravelly and deep from sleep. "Tell them your husband is a needy bastard and he’ll literally die if you leave him in this cold, cruel world alone."

You turned just enough to catch his expression.

Eyes still half-lidded, hair sticking up on one side, and that little pout forming on his lips. He looked like trouble disguised as a Greek god wrapped in a blanket burrito. Holding you in one arm while the other hugged a cute pink mochi-cat plushie.

"Jay..." you said again, but this time it was harder to fight the smile tugging at your lips.

He cracked one eye open. "What if I’m cold? You gonna leave your poor man here all defenseless and shivering while you run off to.. what.. type emails?"

"Not defenseless," you snorted. "You have guns, Jason... There's one inside that cat plushie.. and one under our pillows.. and another two in each of the nightstands jay.. "

He chuckled "And yet none of them keep me as warm as you.. and THAT JOB? It’s draining you. And I hate it. I hate seeing you come home exhausted, giving them all your time when I could be giving you everything... I don't fuckin know why you're still insisting on working when i can work instead.."

You looked down at your phone.. the messages of your coworker asking about why you're late..

Jason continued "I don’t want you breaking your back just to survive. I want you to be safe, healthy and happy. I didn’t crawl out of the damn Pit, rebuild my whole damn life, just to watch the woman I FUCKIN love so damn much struggle.. SO.. quit. Stay home. Sleep in. Read your books. Take long baths. Buy shit loads of brands, makeup and skincare... Hell, start that little dream project you've been putting off. I’ll handle the rest. I'm the man in this relationship.. the one who protects, provides, and handles the weight. And my baby? Her only job is to Be soft. Be spoiled. Be mine. You doesn’t ask for luxury.. you expects it. And I make damn sure you get it.. while you.. you? You just focus on looking pretty, being yourself, and let me give you the life you were born to live."

You got beaten quite badly.. yet you rolled your eyes yet you almost couldn't contain your smile. "You’re being ridiculous."

"You like ridiculous. It’s part of my charm. Now shut up and cuddle me."

He tugged you back down with very little effort, pulling your face into his chest and throwing a thigh over your hip like a greedy child with a favorite stuffed animal. His heartbeat thumped steadily beneath your cheek, and his scent.. warm, woodsy, something expensive you could never pronounce.. made it that much harder to resist.

"...Five more minutes," you mumbled into his skin.

Jason smirked, victorious. "That’s my girl."

And five minutes somehow turned into 2hrs. You didn’t even feel bad.

Ps: i really needed to see someone write jason with that speech 🫠💕

"yeah babe... maybe I'll quit". And like that.. his bby girl never came to work again ✨ and she lived happily in her husband's muscular arms forever 💖

[sqgeism]

How would our favorite amphoreus men take care of reader after they got caught in the rain and got sick? maybe they have a fever, chills, blocked nose. i need some fluff in life

hope ur having a good day and love your works :)))0

𐙚 𓏵𓏵𓏵 𐙚 ooh, be my baby | various hsr men x gender neutral reader

💌 — ; i'll look after you . working on a rainy day had expected consequences. lucky you, your boyfriend loves you too much to scold you for the time being. well.. depends on who you choose.. ! (anaxa, mydei, phainon, dan heng, boothill, jing yuan)

love mail — hii anonnie tysm! i'm doing great!! thank u thats so sweet (´ﾟЗﾟ｀)♡ i brought back some ogs :3 ! and boothill cause i like him so don't jump me, sorry geppie i swear i love you ！Σ(￣□￣;) these r semishort n stuff cause these r a lot but i hope it does well :D

anaxa makes a cure for you in hours.

he hides it as just 'making advances in his medical knowledge' but he was genuinely worried. he had a busy week at the academy, and he didn't want to leave you alone with no way to be cared for. he wants to be there, but he couldn't call off of work a week before the students exams week, needing to post reviewers and host review classes.

so the weekend you got sick, he made a comfortable bed for you in his lab as he worked on something to free you of your sickness, making sure to also check on you the whole time.

he eventually made a concoction that helped your fever go away, body aches disappear, and clears your nose, however it didn't fix the headache. you don't mind, at least you can move your body without wanting to throw yourself off the planet.

anaxa gives you a minor scolding. something about taking better care of yourself and making him fuss over you, but he kisses your cheek and sighs. "i love you, and i'd figure out the cure to any disease that attacks you, but please don't do this again."

mydei lets you rest on top of him for the first day you got sick. tissues, snacks, thermometer, change of clothes.. all of that are set up on your nightstand. the only times he got up was to make you warm meals, and to replace the icepack that pressed up against your forehead.

honestly, he loves this. he knows the reason why you're warm is because you're literally burning up, but he likes it. you're like a little heating pad and you're extra clingy, weak arms squeezing his chiseled chest makes him melt.

he smothers you in kisses and affection till you feel better (oh, and medicine).

if you chose to be clingy to mydei, phainon's choosing to be clingy to you! but you don't want him to be sick :( he's being a big baby when you try to pull away, but he doesn't care. you're too sickly to fight back and honestly his strong, firm arms around you sound real nice rn. and so you let him, to your dismay.

he's a bit of a jerk about it though, cold hands slipping under your shirt and causing you to shiver, hearing his giggles as he apologizes and squeezes you. phainon's got so much love for teasing you, but he knows you need care to be better.

you fall asleep wrapped in blankets and tangled up with phainon.

boothill's probably the best of them all. he doesn't get sick, and he's like a personal heater or cooler. if you're too warm or too cold, he can adjust his body temperature to your liking. "yer clingin' onto me like i'd ever want to go anywhere, darlin'." he teases, running his fingers through your hair as you press yourself against his cold metal, hating how hot your body feels.

he plays some music for you to relax to, and he's telling you tales of his adventures to get you to sleep. who knew a soft, southern accent could work so well as a lullaby?

his arms are locked around you. he's hiding his worry well, but when you fall asleep he's whispering about how you need to take better care of yourself. "though, mm.. yer real cute like this, all snuggly and sniffly. could baby 'ya all week."

dan heng is definitely more on the scolding side, the moment he wakes up to you squirming and sniffling, he's got an unamused look on his face. the night prior, you walked through the astral express doors absolutely soaked from the rain. dan heng helped you change, shower, dry your hair and sleep. but you woke up sick regardless.. like he said you would, like you said you wouldn't.

"this is why you should let me come with you to missions." he grumbles, stirring the bowl of warm stew he made for you as you lay in bed. "goodness, it was one mission, and you come home to me like this. i hate how much i love you." dan heng scoffed, blowing the spoon of warm food and holding it against your lips. "i can't fight this urge to care for you. you're just so.. ugh."

he falls asleep before you, funny enough. you admire the face of your loving boyfriend before drifting off to your own slumber.

you should get sick more often.

you can't even be mad at yourself, jing yuan has allowed you to cuddle up to his sweet, insanely fluffy lion. you can't tell if it's the clogged nose or all the fur you're inhaling, but you love it. and you've got a 'weighted' blanket too. aka your boyfriend.

jing yuan had already fed you your medicine, changed clothes, and fed you well. so there was nothing to do but wait for the next few hours till you'd have to drink medicine again, so now you two are just cuddled up to the embodiment of a cloud.

"you're liking this far too much." your beloved boyfriend remarks, rubbing his head against your tummy as you chuckle, although very weakly. "maybe, but i really do appreciate being taken care of."

the deepest, velvety laugh escapes his lips as he looks up at you, that same smirk he's always worn on his face. "nothing less than for you. now rest, my love. i'll have dinner served for you soon."

© sqgeism or wtv (^_^;)

[doll3scent]

★ Pornstar 3 ★

John Price x Cam girl! reader

warnings- 18+-mdni, smut, age gap, cam girl reader, explicit language, video call sex.

wc. 5k

a/n i’m already halfway done with pt 4…i have a lot of free time…

2, 3, 4,

master list 𓂃۶ৎ

It had been a week, and Price couldn’t shake the knot of paranoia in his chest. Every time he saw your brother, he expected the conversation to turn, expected him to throw a punch or call him out for his disgusting actions. Price had barely slept, imagining the fallout: the disgust in your brother’s eyes, Ghost’s sharp judgment if he found out his captain was sneaking onto your streams.

But nothing had happened. Ghost remained oblivious and hadn’t acted any differently toward him. That only made it worse—because Price was certain you hadn’t forgotten. No, you had recognized him. You’d seen him.

And yet, you hadn’t said a word. The silence was eating him alive. Were you disgusted? Angry? Planning to expose him? The uncertainty was unbearable. He tried to keep his mind busy by burying himself in his work. But he was constantly plagued by the fear that he’d get a knock on his door, and it would be Ghost, ready to beat him within an inch of his life.

Price couldn’t stop thinking about you. It was maddening. Every quiet moment, every pause in the day, his thoughts drifted back to you—back to that call. The way you moved, the way your voice hitched when you spoke to him, and that soft gasp when you realized who he was.

He’d spent the entire week replaying it in his mind. How you’d looked, how you’d blushed when he praised you, and the way you scrambled to end the call when recognition dawned on your face. The memory made his chest tighten and his blood heat. He knew it was wrong—knew the lines he’d crossed—but that didn’t stop him. It only made the desire worse.

Nights were the hardest. Lying in his bed, staring at the ceiling, he could almost hear your voice again, soft and sweet, calling him “Daddy” in that timid little tone. He’d clench his fists, trying to shake the thought, but it never worked. He hated himself for it—wanted to convince himself that it was just the heat of the moment—but he knew better. You were under his skin now, and he couldn’t shake you loose.

He tried distracting himself with work. Paperwork, training schedules, anything to keep his hands busy. But every time he’d pass Ghost, that familiar pang of paranoia would hit him. What if he knows? What if you told him? It was a vicious cycle—work, worry, and want, all twisting together until he was a mess of frustration.

And then there were the quiet moments when his mind wandered without permission. He found himself wondering what you were doing now. Were you thinking about him too? Were you avoiding your streams, afraid he might appear again? Or worse—were you streaming, letting someone else watch you, hear you, make you blush like that? The thought made his jaw clench.

One night, he sat alone in his office, a glass of whiskey in hand, the dim light casting long shadows on the walls. He pulled out his phone, his finger hovering over the app he’d used to find you. It would be so easy to look you up again, to click and see if you were live. But he stopped himself, setting the phone down with a growl. He couldn’t. Not again. But God, he wanted to.

For days, you stayed curled up in your pink, soft blankets, replaying the moment over and over in your mind. You should've been disgusted, horrified even, that your brother's captain—his boss-had been watching you like that. And yet, every time you thought about it, your cheeks burned for an entirely different reason.

You couldn't shake the way his deep, commanding voice had sent shivers down your spine. The way he praised you, so filthy and raw, had you plunging your fingers into your wet cunt again and again.

And the way he bossed you around, his tone laced with authority, had made your body ache in ways you didn't want to admit. You knew it was wrong-so, so wrong-but the thought of him, of how he wanted you, refused to leave your mind. It was dangerous, forbidden, and yet you couldn't stop yourself from wondering... what if it happened again?

You clutched the edge of your blanket, staring at the blank screen in front of you, your thoughts spiraling. He didn't know it was you-how could he? You'd always worn your mask, kept your identity hidden. To him, you were just another faceless streamer. Just someone he stumbled upon, nothing more. That thought gave you a strange sense of reassurance.

He couldn't possibly connect the dots. He didn't know you were his lieutenant's little sister. That made it... safe, didn't it? At least, that's what you kept telling yourself. Your fingers hovered over the keyboard, your heart racing as your mind whispered dangerous thoughts.

Would it really be so wrong if it happened again? If you let him watch, let him command you? You reasoned it wasn't personal for him —it was just the thrill of the moment. But for you... the memory of his voice alone made your stomach twist in ways you couldn't ignore.

You bit your lip, a mixture of guilt and anticipation flooding your senses. One more time wouldn't hurt. He didn't know. He couldn't know. You conjured up an email, hoping he'd respond.

Hi! Price,

I just wanted to say how sorry I am for how our last call ended. Something personal came up, and I had to leave so suddenly... I really hope I didn't upset you.

As a way to make it up to you, l'd love to offer another video call, completely free, if you'd like. Just let me know what works best for you, and I'll make sure I'm all yours this time.

Thank you for being so understanding. I hope to hear from you soon!

Yours,

Angel

You stared at the screen, your finger hovering over the send button. The thought of him finding out it was you-your brother's captain, of all people-made your stomach flip with anxiety. What if he did recognize you? What if he went straight to your brother and told him what his little sister was doing?

The mere thought sent a chill down your spine. But... then again, what if he didn't find out? What it you were careful, kept everything just right, and he never connected the dots? Your heart raced with the risk, the thrill of the secrecy. If you could just keep your identity hidden a little longer, maybe you could let this dangerous game play out. You swallowed hard, trying to steady your nerves. The desire to continue, to feel that rush again, gnawed at you. Your hands trembled as you clicked the send button.

John sat back in his chair, rubbing his hand over his face. The past week had been a blur of tension, his thoughts plagued by that night. He couldn't stop thinking about the look on your face when the webcam shifted, the shock in your eyes as you recognized him.

He had barely slept since, half-expecting you to show up at his door or, worse, tell your brother what you'd seen. He opened his inbox absentmindedly, eyes scanning the subject line of a new email. It caught his attention-your name glowing back at him-and a pang of curiosity tugged at his chest. He clicked open the message and started reading, his brow furrowing as he processed your words.

"I'm so sorry how our last call ended..."

A wave of relief washed over him as he read further. You were apologizing for the way things had ended, offering to make it up to him. His fingers lingered over the screen as he reread the part about a free rescheduled call, and his heart raced. Were you serious? Or was this some sort of trap? Would your brother be on the other end of that call?

John leaned back, tension settling back into his shoulders. He could feel the heat of the situation creeping up on him again. The desire to see you, to hear you, to feel that connection again was almost too strong to resist.

John leaned back in his chair, trying to suppress the rush of emotions that flooded his chest as he remembered the way you had responded to him. The soft, breathy gasps, the way your body had moved in perfect sync with his words—it was like you had become his in that moment. He could still feel the tension in the air, how you had melted at his voice, obediently following his instructions without hesitation.

Your responses had been soft, shy, and yet there was something powerful in the way you surrendered to him, something that had stirred something deep inside him.

He hadn't expected you to listen so easily, to let go of your inhibitions like that. And the way your body had moved-slow, deliberate, responding to him like he was the only thing that mattered.

He bit his lip, remembering how he had commanded, how you had obeyed. His heart thumped in his chest as he realized just how much control he had over you, how much you had let him in. It made him want to take it further, push the limits, see just how far you'd go.

His thoughts drifted to the email now sitting in his inbox, a silent invitation from you. He couldn't stop the grin from tugging at his lips. He knew it was risky, but the temptation was too strong. He had to see you again, hear you again, and feel that same power dynamic build between you.

Dear Angel,

First off, no need to apologize-I completely understand that things can come up. That being said, Ive been thinking about our last call... and I have to admit, I haven't been able to shake the memory of it.

I'd definitely be interested in rescheduling, and I'll make sure we have a bit more time to really enjoy our time. How does tomorrow evening sound to you? I'm flexible, so just let me know what works for you.

Looking forward to it.

Best,

Price

You giggle softly, your cheeks flushing as you read his reply. The thought that he's been thinking about you too sends a thrill through you. You glance at his words about his flexibility and the teasing thought crosses your mind. You want to reply something cheeky, something bold like how you're flexible too, and how he can bend you however he wants. You could say it... something bold, something that would make him want you more.

But you bite your lip, hesitant. Instead, you type a more subtle response, keeping your playful nature intact, but holding back the risqué thoughts.

Price,

That sounds perfect. I'll make myself available, just let me know what time specifically works for you. Can't wait to talk again soon.

Yours,

Angel

You lie in bed, the soft sheets wrapped around you as your mind drifts, you can't help but imagine how you'll look on the next call-how you'll make sure every inch of you is perfect for him. You run your fingers through your hair, mentally picturing yourself in the right lighting, the right angle.

You want to be flawless, to catch his attention in a way that makes him crave you more. The thought of impressing him, of hearing his approval, fills you with anticipation.

You slip out of bed, the warmth of the blankets leaving you with a soft shiver. You know exactly what you need, and the idea of finding the perfect lingerie set for him sends a thrill through your body. You quickly get dressed, pulling on something comfortable, and head out to the nearest Victoria's Secret, your mind racing with anticipation.

As you walk through the store, your fingers graze the delicate fabrics, envisioning how it will look on you. You want it to be just right, so perfect for him.

A stunning pink lace lingerie set catches your eye. The corset is beautiful, hugging the waist in all the right places, cinching you in perfectly, making your curves pop. The lace details are delicate, almost fragile, and the tiny bows scattered along it only add to the allure.

Attached to the corset is a skirt made of the same soft pink lace, flowing gently around your hips, teasing just enough.

But it's the garters and thigh-high stockings that really seal the deal. The set is perfect-sexy, feminine, and exactly what you need to make an unforgettable impression. You bite your lip, already imagining how it'll look when you wear it, and you can't help but feel a little thrill run through you at the thought of what's to come.

The next day, you wake up with a flutter of nerves in your stomach, the excitement building as the time for your call draws near. You spend the entire morning getting ready, carefully setting the mood for what's about to unfold.

You start with a long, hot shower, letting the water relax your muscles as you shave every inch of your skin. The scent of your favorite body wash fills the air, and once you're done, you lotion every part of your body, making your skin soft and silky to the touch. You follow with a layer of oil, making sure you glow. You even powder lightly, giving yourself a flawless finish, as if you're preparing for a show, not just a call.

Even though he can't smell you through the screen, you spritz your best perfume- something light, fresh, and sweet-just for the touch of confidence it gives you. It's your little secret, and it makes you feel ready.

You curl your hair perfectly, each wave soft and bouncy, framing your face just the way you like it. When you step back and look at yourself in the mirror, you feel... different. You feel empowered, beautiful, ready. The lingerie set you picked out is waiting for you, laid neatly on your bed.

As the time ticks closer, you take one last glance around your room, making sure everything is just as you want it. Even your bed is perfectly made, the soft sheets and pillows arranged just so, setting the stage for the night ahead. Your heart races with anticipation, knowing every detail is about to fall into place.

You move toward your setup, carefully adjusting your webcam, making sure the angle captures just the right view. Then, you flick on your setup lights, but only direct them toward the bed. The soft glow they cast highlights the space perfectly, making the room feel inviting and intimate. With a deep breath, you switch off your bedroom lights, letting the cool darkness surround you. The only illumination now comes from the candles you've scattered around the room. Their dancing flames flicker softly, casting shadows that add an alluring, romantic vibe to the room. The air feels charged, the atmosphere thick with anticipation.

Everything is set. All that's left is the call. Your nerves mingle with excitement, knowing this is the moment you've been waiting for.

With a deep breath, you step into the lingerie, feeling the soft lace hug your body in all the right ways. The corset cinches your waist, accentuating your curves, while the delicate lace feels like a second skin. You pull on the matching panties, the fabric smooth and soft against your skin.

Carefully, you adjust the tiny skirt, letting it fall perfectly over your hips. It's light, teasing, and just enough to make the outfit feel complete. You attach the stockings to the garters, feeling the smooth fabric stretch over your legs, the garters snug against your thighs, holding them in place.

The set fits you perfectly, every detail just as it should be. You look at yourself in the mirror, feeling a mix of excitement and a little nervousness, knowing that everything is ready now. The candles flicker in the dim room, casting soft light over the delicate lace. You take a final breath, steeling yourself for the call that's about to begin.

You reach for your little white lace mask, your fingers brushing over the delicate fabric. It's the finishing touch. You tie it carefully behind your head, adjusting it so it sits perfectly, framing your eyes and cheeks.

You sit on the edge of the bed, your legs crossed delicately, hands resting in your lap as you try to calm your racing heart. The soft glow from the setup lights bathes you in a flattering hue, while the flickering candlelight creates an intimate ambiance around the room.

You glance at the screen, the little "connecting" symbol spinning as you wait for him to join. Every second feels like an eternity, your nerves buzzing with anticipation.

You adjust the tiny skirt once more, smoothing it down over your thighs, and take a slow, steadying breath. The moment the screen flickers to life, your heart skips a beat. His face appears, and you're immediately struck by the way his sharp features soften slightly as he takes you in. You can see his jaw tighten, his eyes scanning the screen, taking in every detail of you.

You bite your lip, your voice soft as you finally speak.

"Hi..."

The moment his face appears on the screen, he's completely silent. His dark eyes roam over you slowly, taking in every painstaking detail-the delicate pink lingerie hugging your body, the way your perfectly curled hair frames your face, the soft glow of your skin in the candlelight.

His gaze lingers, almost reverent, as though he's trying to memorize every inch of you. The corner of his mouth tugs upward into a faint smirk, but his silence speaks louder than any words could. It's in the way his Adam's apple bobs as he swallows, the way his eyes darken with something raw and unrestrained.

For a moment, the tension hangs thick between you, his voice caught somewhere in his throat. When he finally speaks, his voice is low, rough, and thick with desire. "Christ... you're perfect."

You smile softly, your cheeks warming under his intense gaze. Tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, you let your eyes flicker down shyly for a moment before meeting his again. "Sorry about how I ended our last call...something came up" you say softly, forcing a polite smile. Your voice is steady, but inside, your heart is racing. You can still remember the moment you realized who he was, the rush of shock that made you end the call so abruptly. But you've convinced yourself that he doesn't know, that he couldn't possibly have pieced it together.

On the other side of the screen, his smirk twitches, subtle but unmistakable. His sharp eyes linger on you a little too long, and there's something in his expression —a flicker of amusement, maybe even satisfaction-that makes your stomach twist. He leans back slightly, his tone casual but laced with a knowing edge.

"Something came up, huh?" he repeats, almost like he's testing you. But he doesn't push, letting the moment hang between you.

You nod quickly, desperate to keep the air light, unaware that he already knows exactly why you ended the call-and that he's watching you closely, waiting for you to slip. "Don't worry, sweetheart," he says, leaning in just a little closer, his voice smooth, almost reassuring, "I understand. Things come up. We're good, yeah?"

You clear your throat, trying to shake off the awkwardness that lingers in the air. "So, how've you been?" you ask, your voice a little softer than usual, almost uncertain. You can't help the way your nerves spike, knowing exactly who he is-your brother's boss, a military captain in his 40s. And yet, here he is, sitting across from you on a video call, just another man on the other side of the screen. But it's not just any call-it's this call. This man, so authoritative in his world, is sitting here, watching you.

Price can't help but smile as you talk to him, he knows you're lying. He doesn't call you out on it, but he's enjoying the fact that you don't know that he knows. He can tell just by the sound of your voice alone that you're nervous, but you're trying to act polite.

"I've been good, darlin". Been missing you though", he responds with a soft chuckle. He tries not to sound too desperate or obvious, he wants to play along and see how long it'll take you to crack. You can't help but smile, the warmth spreading across your face as the sound of his voice lingers in your mind. You let out a little giggle, almost shy, but it escapes before you can stop it. "Really?" you ask.

Price can't help but smirk at your school girl giggle, the sound of which seems to go straight to his core. "Yes, really" he responds playfully. "I've been thinking about you a lot, doll" he adds, his voice low. You shift on your bed, feeling a rush of heat flood your cheeks. The way he's looking at you, the way his words hang in the air, makes your heart race and your stomach flutter. You can't help but feel giddy, your body betraying your attempt to stay composed.

“...Thinking about me how?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper, and you can't quite bring yourself to meet his gaze. There's a pause on Price's end, a moment that seems to stretch on into eternity as he stares at you through the screen. "Oh, you want specific details, huh darling?" he asks lowly, his eyes roaming over you. He can barely keep his voice steady, his body is heating up just looking at you.

You nod softly, your fingers nervously playing with the fabric of your skirt, twisting and turning as you try to steady your breath. The quiet tension between you both feels like it's building with every second. You can't help but feel a little shy under his gaze, yet at the same time, the thrill of it all keeps you grounded, your curiosity pushing you to want to know more.

You glance up briefly, meeting his eyes for just a moment, the weight of the question hanging in the air. “..l want to know" you murmur, your voice soft but eager. Price's gaze is intense as he stares deeply into your eyes through the screen, taking in your every move.

Your shyness is only making Price want you even more, and the tension between you is growing. When you tell him you want to know his lips curve into a smirk, his eyes flickering over your body. He leans forward, the whiskey glass dangling loosely from his fingers, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Been thinking about that tight little cunt of yours, mostly. Fantasizing about bending you over every fucking surface I see"

Price's blunt words have a powerful effect on you, they make your mind go blank for an instance before a wave of heat washes over you, his voice alone is enough to drive you insane. He's watching you intensely through the screen, taking in your reaction to his filthily words.

"You like the sound of that, baby?" he asks with a smirk, his eyes roaming over you. Price's own words make his own mind start to wander, images of you writhing under him, bent over his desk flooding his mind. "I've been thinking about your soft little moans" he says in a low voice, his eyes roaming over you on the screen. "I've been thinking about how badly I want my hands on you"

Price notices the way your thighs clench in response to his words, and it ignites something in him. "Oh, darlin...are you getting excited?" he asks with a grin, his tone a little teasing. He sets the whiskey glass down, his eyes never leaving yours as he reaches down to adjust his pants, making sure his growing erection is comfortable. "I can tell by the way you're squeezing those thighs together. You're fucking dripping for me, aren't vou. andel?"

Price can't help but admire you through the screen, his eyes darkened with intensity and desire. His hand reaches down to subtly adjust the growing bulge in his pants, trying to ignore the ache in his groin. Your legs are squeezing together, as if trying to find some sort of relief for the ache that's building between your legs.

Your face is flushed, your breathing is becoming more erratic, and you're struggling to keep your eyes on him without looking away out of shyness. Price's voice drops even lower, smooth and commanding, as his gaze locks onto yours.

"Call me daddy," he says, each word deliberate, like a challenge and a request all at once. He leans forward slightly, his tone thick with desire, as he adds, "Can you do that for me, sweetheart?" You blush, the warmth creeping up your neck as you nod, your voice barely a whisper.

'Yes" you reply softly, the word slipping out almost shyly. Price's gaze sharpens, his lips curling into a small smirk. "I want to hear you say it," he commands gently, his tone firm but not unkind. "Say it for me, sweetheart." The room feels heavier with his words, the air thick with tension as he waits, his eyes never leaving you, eager for your response.

You whisper it, barely above a breath, the words almost lost in the quiet room “....Yes, daddy.." you murmur, your face flushed with warmth as you feel his gaze linger on you, intense and expectant. The way the words feel leaving your lips sends a wave of nervous excitement through you, making your heart race all over again.

Price's whole body almost shudders as he hears you call him that, and his eyes nearly roll back in his head. It's almost too much, hearing you refer to him like that.It's a power dynamic that he never knew he craved, until he met you. He takes a moment to collect himself, taking a deep breath and trying to keep his own desire under control. "Good girl" he praises, watching you closely to see how you react to his words.

The soft whimper escapes your lips before you can stop it, a sound so quiet, yet it doesn't go unnoticed.

Price's smirk deepens as he watches you, the shift in your demeanor not lost on him. He can see how his words are affecting you, how they make you tremble, and it only fuels the desire that's already burning inside him.

He leans in slightly, voice dropping to a lower, more possessive tone. "That's it, sweetheart," he murmurs, the words like a caress. "Let me hear more of that." His eyes remain locked on yours, searching for every reaction, every tiny movement you make.

He smirks as he sees your reaction, clearly savoring the effect his words have on you. "Such a good girl, making those sweet little noises for Daddy." He leans back, purposely giving you a glimpse of his muscular frame through his partially unbuttoned shirt.

His voice drops to a commanding growl as his eyes rake hungrily over your image on the screen. "Strip for me, angel. Nice and slow. Let Daddy see that gorgeous body he's been jerking off to every fucking night."

“Yes, daddy" you slip off your panties, tossing them to the end of bed. "Leave the stockings on," he orders, his tone smooth and firm. You slide your fingers over the delicate lace of your lingerie, the fabric clinging to your body just enough to tease, before you begin to pull it away slowly, deliberately. The tension in the air grows thick as you reveal more of you skin, each inch of you body exposed with a careful, almost tantalizing slowness.

Your hands trail down your sides, feeling the smoothness of your skin as you slides the fabric down, the lace brushing against you hips before it slips completely off. You don't rush, letting each moment stretch out, letting the anticipation build. You let the lingerie drop to the floor with a soft flutter, you body now fully exposed, save for the stockings you've kept on, the lace clinging to your legs, a final piece of the puzzle that leaves just enough to the imagination. The room is heavy with your movements, the way your eyes flick up to meet his, revealing just how much you're willing to give in this moment.

He watches with bated breath as you slowly reveal your body, his heart pounding in his chest like a fucking war drum. Every inch of exposed skin makes his mouth water, his dick hardening further in his pants. "Fuck, look at you...like a goddamn wet dream." He reaches out, his finger hovering over the screen, as if he could touch you through it. "I want to see those stockings, angel. I want to see you stand up and let me see how they cling to those fucking perfect legs of yours."

You step off the bed, moving the webcam back as you stand. His eyes lock onto your legs, the black lace stockings clinging to your shapely thighs like a second skin. He swallows hard, his mind racing with images of running his hands up those silky legs. "Turn around"

You turn obediently facing your bed.

He drinks in the view of your back, the way the stockings disappear into the curve of your backside, leaving the rest of you bare. He can't help but notice the slight sway of your hips as you turn. "Bend over," he growls. You can hear him fumbling with something before the sound of a zipper being unzipped, you try to stand and turn to see him.

"Stay," he commands, his voice low and authoritative.

He wraps his fingers around his length, slowly stroking himself as he watches you bent over, the lace stockings hugging your thighs. You let out a frustrated whine "I wanna see you.."

"Not yet," he murmurs, his eyes glued to the screen as he continues to slowly stroke himself, the tip of his thumb rubbing over the sensitive head each time he reaches the top. "Please daddy?"

His hand pauses, his thumb hovering over the tip as he hears those words. He can feel his body tensing, ready to snap. "You calling me daddy isn't going to make me show you," he says gruffly. "Spread them wider," he orders, his voice low and demanding. He watches intently as you comply, the lace stockings stretching taut over your thighs as you widen your stance.

"Put your hand between your legs and rub your fucking cunt," he growls, his voice rough and commanding. He starts to stroke himself faster, watching with rapt attention as he waits for you to follow his orders.

"Slowly." You lift you upper half off the bed enough to slide your hand down to your dripping wet pussy. You let you a whine as you start to rub yourself painfully slow.

He watches intently, his cock throbbing in his hand as he sees your fingers disappear between your legs, moving languidly over your sex. The sight of your slow, teasing touches makes his teeth grind with barely restrained desire.* "Fuck, that's it..."

His eyes narrow as he sees you try to push your fingers inside. "Did I say you could fuck yourself with your fingers?" he snaps, his grip tightening around his cock.

"No, I told you to fucking rub, not shove your fingers in like a goddamn whore."

"Im sorry daddy.."

"You'd better be," he growls, his face contorting with anger and unsatisfied lust. "Now spread your legs wider and rub slower," he demands, his voice dripping with authority and unspent desire. "I want to see your fingers barely touching your little pink folds."

"No please-"

"Yes, because if you don't start fucking listening and doing exactly as I say, I'll hang up this call and leave you fucking spread open and desperate," he interrupts harshly. "So you'd better start rubbing that fucking pussy like I told you before I lose my patience."

"No! i'll listen I promise!"

He watches closely, his cock throbbing as he sees your fingers quiver against your mound, barely grazing the swollen flesh. Each feather-light stroke over your clit makes his breath hitch. "That's it... fuck," he growls approvingly, starting to stroke himself faster.

"You're doing so good being a good girl and listening," he praises softly, his tone deceivingly gentle as he continues to watch your slow, torturous rubs. "But you know what else I want?"

"What daddy?"

"I want to see you spread your lips open with your fingers," he orders, his voice low and thick with desire.

"Use your index and middle finger, spread them open wide so I can see that fucking pink hole." You moan into the bed as you comply.

His eyes widen as he sees your fingers part your lips, revealing the glistening pink interior of your pussy. He can see the head of your clit peeking out from between your folds, and the way your inner lips are slightly puffy and swollen. "Fuck... look at that,"

He continues stroking himself, faster now, his breathing heavier as he takes in the vulgar sight of your exposed sex. His cock throbs in his hand, leaking precum. "Keep holding yourself open," he commands,

"use your other hand and rub your fucking clit. Gentle.'

"Please daddy" your other hand goes down to rub your clit. His cock twitches as he watches you hesitantly start to rub your clit, your fingers moving in cautious circles. "Yeah, just like that," he encourages hoarsely, stroking himself in tandem with your movements. "Nice and slow, get yourself fucking wet."

He watches intently as your fingers circle faster, your breathing growing more labored with each passing second. The sight of your fingers glistening with arousal makes his cock ache with need. "Look at that fucking pussy, getting all wet for me," he murmurs approvingly.

"Please let me-"

He squeezes his throbbing cock harder, feeling a bead of precum trickle down the shaft as he imagines sliding into your slick heat. "Fuck, I wish I was there, burying myself deep in this tight little pussy"

"I need you-*

The conversation takes a subtle shift as Price leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees, his intense gaze locked on you through the screen. His voice, low and deliberate, cuts through the quiet hum of the call.

"You know, sweetheart," he starts, a teasing smirk tugging at his lips, "this would be so much better if I were there in person." You stand up from the bed, turning to face the webcam.

The weight of his words makes your heart skip, and you pause, your hands stilling on the bedspread. He studies your reaction, the corners of his mouth twitching as if he already knows the effect he's having on you. "What do you say, doll?" he continues, his tone smooth and confident, laced with something deeper.

“I could come over... see you for real." He lets the suggestion hang in the air, watching as your eyes widen slightly, your cheeks flushing at the thought. "No cameras, no screens. Just you and me."

[nescence]

Marriage life

JJK men x Fem!Reader

Summary - Basically just you and him in a marriage. Both wholesome and smutty. Involves: Gojo, Getou & Nanami

Warnings: Mirror sex, pervert Getou, praising, masturbating, massage sesh with Nanami ;), overstimulation.

PT2 pending…..

GOJO

You and Gojo are pretty much the rich aunty and uncle. You don’t have kids because your sister has pretty much filled that hole for you and babysitting the two twins is enough.

Movie night is a must with you guys. It’s relaxing and comforting especially on rainy days. So before bed when the kids are over you either watch horror or comedy, all snuggled up in a blanket. Gojo is always the last to fall asleep, it’s like he’s programmed to stay awake and protect you - always being the one to carry each of you to bed carefully.

“Satoru?” You mumble as your body is carefully placed onto the bed. You hear him hum as he covers you up. “The kids…” you trail off, sleep still in your body. He joins you in bed placing a kiss on your cheek then lips. “took care of em, get some beauty sleep” he reassures, arms sneaking around your waist, pulling you closer to him planting another on your forehead before you snuggle into him. The warmth emitting his body immediately putting you to sleep. His embrace has always been comforting, bringing you a sense of saftey you couldn't describe.

Clinginess, Gojo can be clingy whenever you’re off to work. He found it ridiculous why you would want to work in the first place. He had enough money for generations upon generations so you working was always baffling to him. Who in their right mind would work willingly?.

Sweets. You guys could make a factory with the amount of sweets you had in your cupboards. Maybe that’s why he always has an unbelievable amount of energy. Even in bed.

Practically a house husband.

“How’s my beautiful wife doing today?” Spreading his arms wide, Gojo pulls you into a hug. You were tired but you gladly accepted it, letting yourself fall into his hold. His arms remain at your hips staring down at you. “You’re glowing” his eyes sparkle, and you frown.

“Really? I thought I looked like shit” you say but he shakes his head “that’s weird…didn’t use anything new”. Once those words came out your mouth Gojo grins. “I could think of a reason why” his tone was cheeky, eyebrows wriggling as he stares down at you. Realising what he meant, you groan pinching his nipple which makes him jump.

“Ya nasty” rolling your eyes with a smile on your face.

Always, always praising you.

“Look at you…” Gojo practically whispers to himself, watching his fingers circle your wet clit through the mirror. Your body twitching under his electrifying touch, the way the tip of his middle finger delicately presses against your clit has you shaking for mercy. Licking his lips hungrily, his eyes observe. A fucking. Sight. To see.

Your brows curled and bottom lip disappears underneath your teeth. Legs broadened - felt embarrassing to you - like a work of art mirrored at gojo, granting him the sight of every inch and surface of his wife; your pussy glosses under the soft lighting of your bedroom, keeping his glistening cock cosy within whilst drops of cum seep out, running down his length. Your low whimpers sounding like the desperate cry of a pup. Face stained with dried tears. And Gojo loves it, bringing you to such a state to show how much he adores your body, how a stunning woman like you should be treated - he wants to give you nothing but pure pleasure caused by him and him only.

“Ahn~~” you moan, trying your best to keep your legs open as Gojo continues teasing your abused clit. Your sensitivity at a high due to your nonstop cumming. “You’re soo..beautiful [Name]” He lulls into your ear, mouth against your heated skin as he speaks. “Look baby, look” he stops fidgeting with your bud, your eyes avert to his in the mirror. “Don’t ya look fucking gorgeous?” Mouth parted as he speaks, breathing hungrily as he takes your hand into his. Guiding your fingers through your folds, making you spread yourself nice and wide for him to marvel at how well you suck him in, he hisses feeling you squeeze him along with the gorgeous sight. He has your fingers run through your slit, gathering both his and your essence. You exhale at the action any light touch on your clit making you twitch. “Bet you taste as good you look” his eyes lock onto yours, “hmm?”. Your gaze never leaves his blues as he guides your hand up to your lips, the pure intimacy in your eyes as your lips fall open, giving him the opportunity to push your fingers into your mouth. Closing it shut, you relish in the sweet taste of you and your husband, moaning vulgarly as you suck and swirl your tongue around your digits. Causing your husband to further expand within you.

His eyes, lost in yours, clouded by his lust whilst he watches you swirl your hips. Gaining whatever friction from his cock Sitting deep within your walls. All the while you’re lost in the motion, your eyes rolling shut revelling in the sensation. Your sucking becoming weak as you grow a knot within your stomach, mouth loosening and drool running down your chin. Drunk with sweet bliss.

Fucking hell. You’re killing him.

“Fuck…c’mere” his hand faces you towards him, lips immediately magnetise. Giving Gojo a chance to taste both you and him. Hungrily devouring you, not giving you a bit of control as his tongue rolls, leading you whilst moaning. Gojo sucks In a breath feeling your soft walls pulsate and squeeze his girth, his lips hung on yours. Letting out pleasured breaths as he finally moves his hips again, nicely…slowly…gliding his length up into your drenched hole. His name rolls off your tongue barely above a whisper, Gojo lazily kisses you as his mind is now elsewhere, gradually increasing his speed now that both his hands held onto your hips. A yelp slips your tongue feeling his swollen tip hit your cervix. The creamy mess of your cum reaching both ears, evidence of your unceasing sex. Whatever words Gojo grunts out falling into deaf ears, a feeling of rapture throughout out your body. Your vision blurry due to a well up of tears, eyes glued to the ceiling, mouth remaining parted as rhythmic moans are beat out your throat every time Gojo’s hips bounced you upwards.

“Your pussy’s so goood [Name]” Groaning, Gojo spouts out whatever comes into his mind. Big hands squeezing the flesh of your hips whilst he enjoys your cunt socked on him. “Feels so- so good baby- fuck” he grunts eyes catching the motion of his length disappearing into your pussy, a white ring of cum developed around his base. A reminder of your previous rounds, and yet he couldn’t get enough.

Seeing your head hung over his shoulder, tits bouncing, tears streaming….He wants more, he needs to make his wife feel just how fucking amazing she is to him.

GETOU

One thing about Getou is his acts of service, that's his love language. He'd help you with your hair, help with cooking despite being horrible at it. Anything he feels would burden you he'd do it.

Despite his act of service, you love returning the favour - one thing between you two is you self care days. Getou only doing it because of you. You'd help him out with his long silky hair, massaging his scalp, oiling his face. all sorts.

"Is it nice" you whisper softly, smiling as you watch him relax into you. His eyes remain closed as he hums, enjoying the feeling of your fingers scratching his scalp. You chuckle, reaching to get a serum for his face, whilst applying it you lean over to place a peck onto is lips. Getou’s purple eyes fluttering open to be met with the face of his beautiful wife, a fond smile spreads across his face as he watches the softness in your expression as you scrub his scalp. You’re always so gentle and pulpous with him. Just like he his with you.

He reaches his hand to take yours in, you let him although caught off guard. His lips meet your skin, a gentle kiss from him on your hand.

One thing you both love are drives, it didn't matter the destination or if there even is a destination. You both found amusement in having long drives either in comforting silence or with music. And during all that Getou's hands dont leave yours, interlocking your fingers in silence no matter how sweaty it gets he doesn't let go. Unless you stop for a snack.

Whenever your clothes go missing/ get damaged. Getou doesn't hesitate in replacing them. One day a bra or shirt of yours would be gone and the next day it'll be there right where you left it all brand new. Even if when you point out something you like, it'll be in your possession the next day.

Speaking of clothes getting damaged or lost. The reason being?. Your husband. Despite his cool demeanor and being your husband, Getou is a pervert for you. Stealing your clothes, enjoying their scent as he fucks himself using them. Just to make up for when you're not there.

You had gone out to meet your best friend because of an alleged emergency. And now Getou is left alone with his thoughts.

1 hour later, he finds himself watching a show to pass time. Frequently checking his phone to see if you’ve messaged him or called. But nothing. It doesn’t help when the last thing you said to him was hinting at something, something he knew very well what to be.

‘I have some things I wanna try out with you…’

Those words ring in his head and his mind goes into the gutter. Immediately thinking of the videos he came across on your laptop. You’ve both never done that before. Maybe?….

2 hours later, fuck… he groans into his hands. Unable to focus on the show. His dick was aching…throbbing for a release he can’t bear to resist any longer.

10 minutes past, and Getou finds himself digging through your dirty laundry. Eyes laying on that one lace panty he loves on you. He doesn’t waste time pulling the band of his sweats down to set himself free, tip angry and leaking with precum. Veins popping as if he was gonna explode. His mouth goes agape, letting out sharp breaths once he brings the piece of cloth to his nose. His free hand rubs his inflated tip whilst deeply inhaling the musky scent of your cunt.

“Fuck…Baby.” He gasps, eyes rolling as he begins to stroke his cock. Imagining your flooded hole welcoming him in. Desperately pumping him. “Sssshit [name]” he amps up speed, bringing the lace down to wrap around himself. He needs you. He needs so bad and you’re not here.

“[Name], [Name], [Name]— fuck ah—”

It’s not enough. He needs more, he’ll never cum this way. His hips buck into his hand in attempt to gain more friction, to replicate your gummy walls bouncing up and down him. Milking him. Emptying his balls till he’s all dried up.

“Yes baby…shit— ah- ah-”

His hand moves at an alarming speed, his release is right there. Within reach. A few more pants and strokes before he’s finally done, ropes of cum covering your laced panty, Getou hunching over as the release hits him hard. He groans, letting out a few breaths before looking at the mess he made.

All that mess and he’s still hard.

5 minutes pass.

“I need you- I need you-” Getou’s humping your pillow like a dog, rolling his hips into the soft cushion head thrown back at the frictions. “Ohhh fuck, fuck.” already chasing his third orgasm, his tip sensitive and red from the action. Pillow soaked with his cum and sweat running down his torso. Your lace panty lays on the floor all stained with his seed, Getou payed it no mind. Telling himself he’d get rid of it later and buy you a new one tomorrow. Now a new pillow too. Your name chants from his lips multiple times, your face appearing to him every time he closes his eyes.

He just. Couldn’t. Get. Enough.

He wants his dick to be squeezed, drenched, overstimulated to his limit. Your moans, his name leaving your soft lips in a scream. Everything about you makes his thrusts harder. Sweet moans leave his lips, as he goes harder. His mind filled with your every being, voice, touch.

“Suguru”

“Agh…fuck…yes baby” Your voice sounded so real, Getou could only throb at the sound.

“What’re you doing?” Sounded too real, his head snaps to your doorway. Seeing you stood eyes wide as you watch your husband hump your pillow shamelessly. Even then he doesn’t stop, eyes locked on yours feeling not only his heart but his cock best at the sight of you. He should stop, he should stop. He repeats in his head, but his body refuses, the pure sight of you bringing him closer to a finish.

“[Name]” he grunts, face red and hair stuck to his skin. “I need you…please- please-” begging you, his voice cracks, the sounds going straight to your already wet core. And of course, you couldn’t deny it.

NANAMI

One thing about Nanami is his consideration. No matter the situation he’s always have you first in mind. After work he’d always stop by the convenience store to buy you your favourite snacks. Now you have a whole cupboard full of it.

Compared to him, you have much more energy than he does. So every time he’d try his best to entertain your interests since it makes you happy.

Just like Gojo - he praises you every chance he gets.

“Awww kento what’s this” you pick up the stunning dress from the bed, admiring the way it shimmers under the light.

Nanami watches you with a small smile, your eyes sparkling just like the dress “It reminded me of you” he mumbles just enough for you to hear before your throwing your arms around him “Thank you so much. I love it.” You place a long kiss on his cheek, his arms wrap around your waist staring into your eyes as he spoke. “Why don’t you try it on? Since you like it so much let’s show it off” your brows perk up in shock. But then again, you should be used to this.

An hour later you’re coming out the bedroom all dressed up. The light in Nanami’s eyes glows once he lays them on you. What a beauty you are…

“I don’t know what I did in my life to deserve you” He speaks without thinking, reaching his hand out for you to take. “Oh stop it” you wave your hand, giggling like a Highschool girl receiving a compliment from her crush for the first time.

“I’m only stating the truth my love”.

Speaking of showing off. Nanami would never waste a chance to take you out, bringing you to restaurants, making sure you have your fill. Overall showing off his beautiful wife to let the world know how much of a lucky man he is to be graced with such a woman.

Working overtime is a habit Nanami can’t seem to get over. And because of that days or even weeks go by without you guys having that intimate time together. And Nanami, of course, always manages to make it up you.

“This is the least I can do. And no, you can’t return the favour” He speaks sternly, lifting you off the floor - hooking a hand underneath your knees and another around your torso.

“But you’ve been working. A lot. May I add and I’ll feel bad Kento” you argue as he places you on top of the massage bed. He plants a kiss onto your head, walking towards a cabinet “take your robe off”.

You watch him, annoyed by his disagreement. But oblige, a massage isn’t something you can easily pass on. And by your husband? You know it’ll be the best massage of your life. You lay face first on the bed, shuffling so you could get comfortable. You felt slightly chilly since Nanami suggested you go completely naked. But you have no complaints since it’s him.

“You ready?” He checks, his voice coming from your right.

“Mhmm”

Once you said that you felt a cool liquid dripping onto your back. The temperature sending shivers throughout your whole body. Your eyes close feeling his hands rub your back, spreading the oil whilst applying pressure.

“Relax for me [Name]” He spoke so calmly, so softly, it could put you to sleep. And on command you did. Relaxing just as your husband instructs, letting out hums of satisfaction whenever he hits the right spots. “Does it feel good?”. Fuck, his voice. That smooth, deep voice that you love so much. You’re trying so hard to ignore it, to not think so inappropriately about this innocent session.

“Yeah…you’re really good at this hun” you add, feeling his hands right above your rear, circles around your lower back. When he hits a specific spot you moan. “Right there Kento” you hiss as he goes back to area again, circling it until you’re satisfied “S’that good?” He inquires, making sure he’s done enough. And you nod, enjoying the tension being released.

Once he’s done with your back, he moves down to your legs, massive hands rubbing intently. Lathering them with oil. Doing to them what he did with your back.

You feel his hand move upward, now kneading your ass which caught you off guard. But you’re not complaining, rather, you giggle “Saving the best for last?” You imply, hearing Nanami sigh as he continues massaging.

“I won’t give you the satisfaction of my answer” You could hear the smile in his tone. But you don’t push on, enjoying the feeling of his hands on your body.

“Give me a sec”

Once he’s done, you hear his footsteps receding. Coming back after a few seconds later but he doesn’t do anything other stand there.

“Kento? What’re you doi— Ah!—” your husband causes you gasp as his fingers run through your folds with a cold oil. “K-Kento” your eyes expand, letting out a pleasured yelp as you hand springs to grip the massage bed. His fingers stuff you up so well, your insides already writhing. Turning you to mush as your husband's fingers slither deeper within you - the oil making it easier but also acting as an enhancement to your pleasure. What the fuck? you've felt good before but right now... you felt elated. And your moans only grew more intense as he went on.

“Judging from your reaction I made the right choice buying this oil.” He comments, fingers dragging in and out from your sopping cunt. Your eyes squeeze shut as you feel heat pool at your core, his fingers fucked you so good it’s almost embarrassing how they could bring you to this state.

“It’s only the two of us here my love. No need to restrain yourself” And with those words, a stimulation to your clit had you yelping. “Kento!”.

“Yes?”

Nanami is answered with a mewl, your body writhes beneath him. Legs springing up as a result of the overwhelming pleasure. Every once of your body felt hot. You felt goosebumps by your lower back where your husband’s hand laid whilst the other digs into your pussy, bringing you closer to climax.

“Too…ah…too much…” you barely manage to get your words out, constantly falling back into that world of pleasure. Mind solely focused on how your husband’s fingers glide against your sensitive walls, how they rub against clit. Oh…you were so close…and it didn’t go unnoticed by Nanami, he felt your cunt clench around his digits. And with that your husband increases his speed, your body tenses. Legs stretching, and hands clenching as you were on the edge of climax.

Before you knew it. Flashes blind your vision as you came. Soaking your husband’s fingers with your juices.

Nanami gives you a chance to catch your breath, soothing you with a hand massaging your back. But he doesn’t let it prolong for too long since he still had to move into the second part of this massage session.

✦ Finally back on my grind.

[yours-truly-q]

Even when he's running late, Caleb will never forget your kiss <3

☆

1k words, sfw, no warnings, for those who want to know this was based on the 24 hour schedule that was released for Caleb [:

<3 ☆ <3 ☆ <3 ☆ <3 ☆ <3 ☆ <3 ☆ <3 ☆ <3 ☆ <3 ☆

Caleb's late because you asked him ONCE that morning for him to stay a bit longer in bed with you and took that as an invitation to just spend another hour-ish in bed with you.

Now he's late because he just couldn't bare to leave you that morning

"Fuck!" You hear Caleb swear along with a thud. You huff, amused at his obscenity, while debating whether you're going to get up now to see what happened or just wait to ask him later. Grumbling, you shift in the bed and curl up, thinking about your options. As you curl up in the comfortable warm of the bed another crash resounds through the house and you sigh.

Groaning you tiredly sit up, clumsily pulling your blanket around your shoulders. With what felt like momentous effort, you haul yourself to your feet, waiting a moment to stabilize yourself before shuffling out of yours and Caleb's bedroom and towards the sound of profanities and the clattering objects.

Standing in the doorway of the bedroom, you look down the hallway before you see Caleb rush haphazardly from one room to the other, a repeating rant of "shit, shit, shit" following behind him. Curious, you glance from the room Caleb just entered to the clock on his nightstand and 'oh, it's 7:40 am' so not only did he miss his morning physical training, but he's going to be late getting to the fleet. You snort and slowly let your tired eye gaze back to the room Caleb is in.

"Pipsqueak?" Caleb's smooth voice calls out in a questioning tone, then a moment later, his head pops out from the side of the door. The moment his eyes lock onto your form, a bright grin slips onto his face.

"Are you...laughing at me being late?" Caleb asks, slowly strolling towards your form in the doorway like he has all the time in the world and isn't incredibly late. You roll your eyes and nod, fighting back a yawn.

"Of course I was, the feet space Coronel of all people is late. Plus as well seeing you skid around the house in a panic is kinda funny. " You explain, rubbing your eyes tiredly.

"Well, if I remember correctly, the only reason I'm late is because someone wouldn't let me go when I tried to get out of bed." Raising an eyebrow, Caleb lets a knowing smirk pull at his features.

"In my defence, I don't need to get up today aaaaand you should've just... got up." You mumble your weak argument as you glance away from Caleb, your eyes naturally falling on the ticking clock.

"Anyway, don't you have to leave, like, right now?" You change the subject, eyes still fixated on those ticking hands. Caleb frowns at the reminder while he lets his hands reach out to hold your hips, thumbs rubbing at the fabric of your sleep clothes.

Then suddenly Caleb clears his throat, causing you to gaze at him inquisitively, before he states in a slightly mirth-filled voice, "I do, but before I rush out the door like a mad man-"

"You are a mad man-" You add on quietly under your breath, but Caleb's pointed expression tells you that he heard that. You grin cheekily.

"...I have one last thing I need to do." He mumbles in a low tone as you feel his fingers flex over your clothing.

Then he leans in, a soft kiss pressed gently against your forehead, warmth immediately spreading from the area, leaving a sense of comfort in its wake. A smile tugs at your face, your eyes slowly shutting as you try to savour this feeling. The feeling of being so loved and cared for on this average, early morning.

Caleb's affectionate arms slide around your back, resting on your waist, and subsequently pulling you closer into his kiss and his warm embrace. Then all too soon, Caleb's lips have pulled away and you can feel the small pout that starts to pull at your face.

However, before you can open your eyes, another kiss is pressed to your cheek, the same amount of love pouring off of the action, then another to your cheek, then your nose, and before you know it, Caleb starts to drown you in his affections. His lips (that are now curled into an adoring smile) press clumsily into any patch of skin it can find, filled with so much burning passion that it almost puts you into a daze. The ticklish feeling of his mouth dragging across your skin (dragging because you both know he hates the idea of parting with you more that anything) causes you to squirm and push against and away from him. His arms only tighten around you.

You laugh, throwing your head back as a result, and try to pull yourself away again. That only leads him to kiss from your shoulder all the way up past your neck and to your jaw, leaving the skin tingling and warm.

"Caleb!" You manage to squeal out while another giggle ripples through your body. This doesn't deter his violent assault in the slightest, though.

"You're gonna be even more late!" You huff out between laughs, then you finally find that his kisses slow to a reluctant stop.

He sighs as he looks at you, his head resting on your shoulder. As you look towards this man's face, you find a smile that holds so much love paired with eyes that glimmer with joy, stare back at you in adoration.

"Fine, I'll go, but just one more before I leave." He mumbles, eyes glancing down to your lips before he leans in again. His mouth pushes gently against your own while his fingers rub tenderly into your back. Then, after a moment passes, he pulls back unwillingly because he knows if he doesn't leave now, he won't leave at all.

Even much later, when he's writing some reports at his desk, his mind will think back to that morning you two spent together and he won't be able to hide that longing smile that tugs at his face.

He was SO late that morning but he didn't care one bit because he got to spend those few moments that he'll cherish forever with you. You think I'm joking but I'm not, he won't ever forget that day because of how domestic and silly that morning was. It was everything he wanted and more

He just loves you

<3

This was supposed to be a short drabble, but then I started writing and now it's a 1k fic. I don't think I've written so much before in my life 😭 Anyway, I hope you enjoyed and if you see any mistake, no you don't (Pls tell me in all seriousness though!!) [:

[spaceycat]

bucky being a human furnace is so canon, right now im mainly going to be posting drabbles because shit be crazy rn and my schedule is FILLED TO THE BRIM... so we're going on a small little tiny hiatus. enjoy this drabble lovelies <3

this is a fluffy fic!! i'm too tired to write smut and i just needed this rn 😭

⋆★⋆ human furnace ⋆★⋆

♫ ᴘʟᴀʏɪɴɢ: dream a little dream of me by the mamas and the papas (3:14)

You were naturally cold, always wearing multiple layers even when it's reasonably warm outside, a blanket always wrapped around you and the heater cranked so high - but that soon backfired on you.

It was the middle of winter, it was actively snowing outside - the streets being flooded with white snow upon parked cars and the side of the icey street outside your apartment. The problem was:

Your heater was broken.

There was nothing you could do about it, you had no mechanical skills and in a way you would make it worse than what it already was. Every mechanical service was down or busy for the holidays, so you just had to sit in your kitchen - using your oven as a makeshift heater while you were drowning in jumpers and blankets.

That's when you heard your front door unlocked, that's when you dragged your phone out from the many layers on top of you - realising the time, the time that Bucky said he would be over to deal with some work with you and just.. hang out? His text messages are confusing sometimes, but you couldn't expect much from the guy who was born during the 1910's.

And that guy was very much in your apartment now, and you're sitting on the floor in your kitchen like some idiot - you pushed the blankets off of you, creating a lump of fabric in the corner of your kitchen as you quickly checked your reflection in the window above your sink, running into your living room and Bucky was there, taking off his jacket and scarf that was covered lightly in snow. He took note of your shivering and the sheer amount of sweaters and hoodies you had on.

"It looks like you just went into a snow storm y'know." "My body is my own personal snow storm." "Mm.." He just simply hummed at that, placing his messenger bag on your couch before he walked over to you - wrapping his arms around you, his warmth surrounding you.

You weren't particularly expecting to do this, or for him to be this warm. You knew he was naturally warm, from light accidental touches or him placing a hand on the back of your chair instinctively. You silently thanked the super-soldier serum that most likely made him the human furnace that he is.

You leaned into his warmth instinctively, wrapping your arms around him in return after a moment. "You're freezing." "I thought you knew that." "I do now.. it finally makes sense why you're wearing jumpers even in summer." You'd pull back from him, his hand resting loosely around your waist. "My heater is shot, had to resort to desperate things." You tilted your head towards the kitchen in a gesture of the blankets on the ground. "Heater's shot?" He raised a brow at you. "Mhm." "Get yourself some tea.. or just-- something, I guess. I'll fix it." "Buck-- you don't have to." "If it means that I won't have to see you shivering all the time, I'll happily do it."

You eventually returned with a cup of tea, the heat from the mug cupped in your hand slowly warming it up from the cold. In the otherhand, a metal box hopefully containing all the tools that Bucky can do to fix your heater.

He took it from you with a simple "Thanks", you watched him tinker with the machine for awhile - it was definitely a sight you could get used to, your hand keeping your head up as you lean against the arm chair of your couch that let you have the perfect view of Bucky. You felt so warm from his presence it almost cured your temperature dilemma.

After a short while, the familiar humming of the heater started up again. Bucky stood up, closing the box of tools - setting it on the coffee table next you. The soft clang bringing you out of your thoughts. "All done." He sat down beside you, a short sigh coming from his lips as he sat. You looked over to him muttering a "Thank you.", a desperate plea in your eyes for him to hold you close again. He looked at you, a small grin forming on his face as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders pulling you closer to him.

You rested your head on his chest, nuzzling into him a little bit more. His hand that was wrapped around your shoulder was now playing with your hair a small amount, almost as it was normal for him to.

You've been working on the heater since the early hours of the morning, it driving you out of your sleep - so it wasnt a surprise for you to slowly fall asleep against the warmth of the man that was Bucky Barnes.

As he heard your soft breaths, he grabbed the blanket wrapped over the couch that was nonetheless a result of your attempt at keeping yourself warm and draped it over you - placing a soft kiss on the crown of your head. Holding you forever closer as he heard the rain slowly fall outside. He could get used to this too.

[delswine]

LET'S CLARIFY THE COMMENTS 𝄒 ⸝. P. SH

the thing is, you couldn't even imagine how Enhypen's visual Sunghoon, who made millions fall in love with him, would react when you gossiped with your idol friends about his sex life.

"you seem to know too much, baby."

ᆢ ۢ pairing: arrogant¡idol¡dom!sunghoon × bratty¡idol¡sub!f.reader

contains some members of enhypen, aespa, le sseraphim, ive.

ᆢ ۢ genre: smut (MDNI) with a tiny plot.

ᆢ ۢ warning: strangers to smth, unprotected sex (nope, not for you babe), spitting, hair pulling, pet names, dirty talk, reader is down bad, some praising, oral (f&m rec), teasing, overstimulation, hickeys, fingering, slight choking, begging, manhandling... may contain more, lmk if i missed.

ᆢ ۢ notes: well, my little braincells, this is my first on tumblr so don't judge me plz. and this girl is not a native english speaker, fyi. hope you enjoy?? (plz enjoy or i'll kms)

more undercut!

you leaned forward slightly as you brushed your waist-length hair out of your eyes, continuing your speech that had caught the girls' attention as if you were going to tell them a secret. "don't he seem like a sub? sure, he may be handsome, but he's so cold and arrogant. god, I swear on my soul that his dick is small!"

well, those weren't exactly well-supported thoughts. more like- more like the hatred you spewed at Park Sunghoon for not even having his number. who could've blame you? Park Sunghoon was arguably the most cold and apathetic one in the industry among idols. if any idols topic came up while talking to girls, at least one of them would definitely have hung out with that person, but Sunghoon? nope, not even a chance. he refused to talk to any female or male idol who asked for or contacted him for his number, distancing himself from everyone with that condescending look on his face.

and you... you wanted him, god damn it, you wanted him so bad. Sunghoon fucking you was something that had been haunting your dreams lately. while you can have all the male celebrities you want wrapped around your finger, it was making you angry that you didn't even have Park Sunghoon's number. when you asked him he said he wasn't interested. to you! who could say no to you?

and here you are, venting your anger at Sunghoon for no reason and without him even knowing it by belittling him and starting rumors.

Wonyoung sipped her drink while laughing lightly. “you really have a grudge against him, he’s not actually that arrogant. he’s just cold. you're just mad because he didn’t give you his number, y/n.” Giselle couldn't help but tease you. "our queen bee got rejected for the first time in her life! let's get a depression blanket and a jar of nutella for miss y/n!" you let out a frustrated breath and leaned back. you looked at sunghoon’s face a few tables away and spoke sarcastically.

“i’m sure he’s a virgin and gay or something. and i’m not depressed or anything, Gigi. i could have a line of guys at my door if i wanted to. his loss.”

—

well, fuck the loss. you're the one who is losing. every time that man performed on stage, you felt like you were going to explode. how could a person look so flawless? you wanted to beg to get under the man you were raving about just a few minutes ago.

as you focused on the song to distract yourself from thoughts about Sunghoon, you curiously took the paper that an staff had reached out to you. he wasn't part of your group's crew, so you could tell the paper was from another idol. you tucked the paper in your pocket so the fans wouldn't think anything of it.

a few minutes later, when the performance was over, you got up from your seat and went backstage to go to the bathroom. as you walked to the bathroom among the rushing staff, you took out the paper from your pocket.

"you will come to my waiting room after the show ends to clarify your comments about my small dick."

as an angry and confused laugh spilled from your lips, you didn't even think about going. why would you listen to him?

and yes, your thoughts didn't seem to matter because you found yourself in front of Sunghoon's personal waiting room after the ending ceremony.

even though you came here, you were just standing in front of the door, not knowing what to do. as you debated with your thoughts between knocking on the door, going straight in, and turning back, you felt a shadow rising from behind you.

Park Sunghoon.

as you turned your head slightly to look at him, Sunghoon walked past you and opened the door, not even bothering to look at your face. he spoke with firm and demanding tone, leaving the door open behind him. "come in and close the door."

while you entered inside, doing as he said, without knowing the reason, Sunghoon took off his tie, which was part of his stage costume, in front of the table with his back to you and left it on the table. once he had taken off his jacket and was left with a white shirt hugging his muscular upper body, he turned to you. he walked towards you and spoke in a cold voice as he unbuttoned the cufflinks of his shirt and folded one of his sleeves.

"it's surprising you're not still on your knees."

you were taken aback. your eyebrows furrowed slightly, and your lips parted in surprise. as you searched for your voice that you thought you had escaped into, Sunghoon spoke once more. there was now only a step between you.

"what's with this reaction? wasn't that the reason you made those know-it-all comments about my dick because you wanted it deep inside all your holes?"

you tried to focus on forming sentences without stuttering. you were embarrassed that your voice sounded so weak. "what are you talking aba-" Sunghoon grabbed your chin, pinching your cheeks between his fingers, causing your lips to pucker as he leaned over you. he spoke in a sarcastic tone while raising one eyebrow. "did I say you can talk? on your knees."

the feeling of wetness in your panties made you feel humiliated as your hands trembled slightly. as you looked into Sunghoon's eyes with a slightly timid but eager gaze and didn't even attempt to kneel down, Sunghoon let out a deep breath. his hand reached your throat and squeezed lightly, taking your breath away as he pushed you hard against the door behind you and leaned on you. you placed your hands over Sunghoon’s as a small groan escaped your lips from the pain in your back. he didn’t completely take your breath away, just made it a little harder. "we both know that what you said was just to piss me off and provoke me to fuck the brat out of you. now, you'll get what you wanted. on your knees. if you make me say it one more time, i'll overstimulate and edge you for hours."

when Sunghoon’s hand left your neck, you swallowed and fell to your knees, biting your lip lightly. he was right, this was what you wanted. now you could show him what he was missing at first, then leave him begging you to continue.

"you know what to do."

your hands found the waistband of Sunghoon's pants. you undid his belt first, then the button, and pulled down the zipper. you pulled down his pants and hooked your fingers into the waistband of his boxers. as you raised your eyes and looked down at him, you saw Sunghoon unbutton the top buttons of his shirt. when he looked at you with dark eyes, you looked away and pulled out his not erect cock from his boxer. the big dick in front of you, even when not erect, was proof that what the things you were saying would soon go into your ass. besides being huge, it was also mouthwatering.

you turned your eyes to Sunghoon once more and parted your lips, taking the tip of his cock into your mouth. no reaction.

you started to caress the dick with your hand, then took it into your mouth and started sucking it. no reaction.

you wrapped your tongue around him, running it over his veins. no reaction.

even though you had made his cock semi-hard, Sunghoon continued to look at you without even the slightest moan. when you got angry and touched it your teeths lightly, Sunghoon hissed lightly and grabbed you by the hair. he pulled your head back and leaned over you. "you're pushing your luck too much. open your mouth."

before you could swallow the saliva that spilled from his mouth to your mouth, Sunghoon pushed his dick into your mouth with the help of his hand in your hair. your hands quickly found Sunghoon’s thighs as he moved your head back and forth, moving his waist at the same time and started to fuck your throat. you digged your nails into Sunghoon’s skin as you rolled your eyes at him once more, letting out a meaningless moan because your mouth was full. even though you felt like you had won a victory when you heard a soft groan from Sunghoon who was looking at you, what had happened to your plan to leave him alone? as you watched with lustful eyes from below as Sunghoon threw his head back and moaned, every time you tried to pull away and leave him, Sunghoon would push your head back down onto his cock.

"nuh-uh, you're going nowhere baby. you'll take it just like you wanted."

you stared at him desperate as your eyes filled reflexively under Sunghoon’s harsh thrusts. the fact that you were enjoying this made you feel humiliated. you had created a pool in your panties while sucking the cock of a man who was using you shamelessly.

Sunghoon’s moans filled the room and the words he used made you want to suck him even more. "fuck, yes- just like that. take it like a good girl.. ah, look at your eyes.. you're enjoying this, don't you?"

Sunghoon pulled back as your hot seed formed a web in your throat. you fell onto your hips, out of breath, and pressed your hand to your lips. grabbing your chin and forcing your angry gaze into his own eyes, Sunghoon grinned. "you seem to have lost the bet on your soul. c'mere."

Sunghoon easily manhandled and lifted you up, grabbing you by your waist. he grinned as he pulled you closer to him. his free hand slid under your skirt and caressed your skin, dangerously close to your pussy. your hands quickly move to his shoulders, applying a weak and reluctant pressure to push, while Sunghoon’s hand quickly reaches your clothed clit. contrary to his calm demeanor, you quickly broke apart and moaned, letting out a shaky breath. Sunghoon grinned at the wetness he felt through your panties as he moved his fingers in circles over your clit. he mumbled between your messy moans.

"sub under the handsome face, huh? at least you have the decency to admit that you think i'm handsome."

your legs trembled as his two fingers pushed your panties aside and entered your warm cunt without warning. you felt like you were going to fall, but Sunghoon’s hand on your waist kept you upright. he leaned down and whispered in your ear as he started to move his fingers rapidly, turning you into a moaning mess.

"beg."

your lips parted quickly, Sunghoon hadn’t even done anything to turn you on this much yet but you couldn’t resist. you were absolutely nothing when it comes to Park Sunghoon.

"p-please, god- fuck.. please do so-something.."

Sunghoon's eyebrows rose as he smiled. as his fingers in your pussy sped up, he looked at you mockingly, and spoke. "well done, but not enough. you should try harder, honey." his thumb rubbing your clit roughly, leaving you breathless once again. you were digging your nails into Sunghoon’s arms as your eyes filled with arousal.

"fuck- i'm so s-sorry, i'm so-fuck- i-i won't lie again! please-Sunghoon please make me cum!"

Sunghoon's eyes filled with pleasure as he sped up his fingers, giving you the movement you needed to cum. you stood on your tiptoes, your moans filling the room as you came, legs shaking from the hard thrusts inside you. your head fell back, your eyes rolling back in pleasure.

the moment he thought you could open your eyes again, Sunghoon lifted your head and pressed his lips to yours. after a passionate kiss, he pulled back and pointed to the couch behind him. "strip and lie down, baby. we're not done yet."

after getting rid of your clothes, when you reached the couch with an empty mind and lay down, Sunghoon quickly found his place on you and settled between your legs. he grabbed your ankle and pressed his lips gently against your skin to leave a few kisses on your calf. sweet whimpers escaped your lips until his lips reached your thigh, leaving light marks with bite marks on your legs.

you wouldn't have to think twice to realize that if you weren't an idol, Sunghoon would have left his marks all over your body.

when Sunghoon’s lips found the lips of your pussy, your back tensed up quickly, you grabbed Sunghoon’s hair with a moan as you jumped like a spring. your grip on his hair tightened and your moans got louder when Sunghoon started making out with your pussy without waiting.

Sunghoon’s grip on your hips tightened as you tried to get out of his grip while your tearful moans continued. you try to keep your voice down by pressing your lips with one hand, while your other hand is still on Sunghoon's hair. you could feel Sunghoon smirking at your reactions as he tongued your clit, ignoring the harsh tug on his hair.

"shit-so good.. ngh- please d-don't stop--"

you felt your body rush into relaxation, pressing Sunghoon’s head into your hips as you dug your nails into his scalp. when Sunghoon lightened his grip, allowing you to use him, you rolled your hips towards Sunghoon’s face, grinding against his tongue. you thought it was done when you chased another orgasm filled with lots of moans and tremors.

but Sunghoon didn't think like that.

he grabbed one of your legs, lifted it up, spread your legs and aligned his dick at your entrance, sliding inside without warning. you shook as tears of pleasure flowed from your eyes, digging your nails into the seat as you shivered and tried to catch your breath. Sunghoon slowly started to move as he straightened up and took off his shirt, throwing it to the side. before you could even taste the sight of his completely naked body, Sunghoon sped up. you were making meaningless sentences as he thrust into you faster, making you cry even more.

"fuck, look how wet you are.. you're really having fun, don't you princess?" Sunghoon's voice thinned slightly between his own moans, then a deep groan escaped from his throat. "yes, god, y-yes! S-Sunghoon-!"

Sunghoon thrusts hard into your cunt, as he grips your hips tightly, leaving fingerprints on your skin. Sunghoon continued talking as the two of you’re moans filled the room. "so tight f'me.. fuck.. you're too pretty to be real." you were too messy to even hear his compliments. your neatly styled hair was a mess, your makeup was smeared all over your face, your eyes barely distinguishing a straight line.

when you felt like you were going to cum again because of Sunghoon’s fingers playing with your clit, you wrapped your arms around Sunghoon’s neck in an effort to feel close. "hnghm— s-so good-"

Sunghoon didn’t resist your grip, leaning over you and letting you hug him as he began to leave passionate marks on your neck. your sobbing was the only thing that graced the room with your moans as you filled the young man’s back with marks with your nails. when Sunghoon’s lips found yours, you felt like you could barely hold in the kiss for all the moans you were letting out.

as your body tensed as you neared orgasm once again, Sunghoon noticed it too. while your waist was constantly moving up and down on the couch, Sunghoon kept you on the couch by pressing his hand hard on your waist, erecting you and increasing his play on your clit. "d-don't stop, please, mngh— S-sunghoon-oh—fuck!" as Sunghoon grinned at your messy state, he intensified his thrusts one last time as he felt close to cumming.

you came almost at the same time as your scream of pleasure and Sunghoon’s moan as he buried himself deep inside you. while you were waiting for your breath to recover, Sunghoon must not have thought so because his fingers on your clit continued their rapid movements, slowly moving in and out of you. "use your words, baby. show me you've learned your lesson."

you moaned at the movements in your sensitive pussy as your hips wiggled to escape Sunghoon’s movements. your lips parted quickly, you spoke without thinking. "Sunghoon, S-Sunghoon-please.. fuck, i-i learned my lesson, i, i am sorry, i am so sorry, p-please slow- fuck aghmn- i won't do it again—"

Sunghoon listened to your pleads until he was satisfied, then smiled and slowed down, pulling out. before removing his fingers from your clit, he gave your swollen pussy a light slap.

as your body collapsed weakly onto the couch, Sunghoon leaned over you and placed a few gentle kisses on your shoulders. as you both caught your breath, he got off you and gently helped you clean up with a towel he had picked up from the table. it was surprising to see that the man who was pressing you down into the couch a few minutes ago was the same man who was holding your legs as if they were porcelain that would break. but you liked it anyways.

Sunghoon leaned down and kissed your waist roughly as he cleaned you up. he hummed as his hand caressed your skin. "you okay? was i too rough?"

you felt your heart beat faster as you listened to Sunghoon’s words. you swallowed hard, avoiding his intense gaze and mumbled. "it's okay, i'm okay.. i.. i rally enjoyed it.." Sunghoon smiled and left a few more kisses on your skin before cleaning you completely.

—

okay, let's start from the beginning. here you are, giving a trailer with red cheeks to your idol friends gathered at your house.

Karina said while laughing excitedly. "okay okay, just tell us, was it big?"

the girls laughed at you as you pressed your head against Kazuha's shoulder next to you, the images flashing before your eyes. another question from Rei filled the room. "was he rough? did he aftercare?"

as you shook your legs in embarrassment and anger and lifted your head, the girls must not have finished messing with you because your groupmate Inchae asked you another question. "unnie, how many times he made you cum?"

the words had just escaped your lips when you couldn't stand the effort any longer and threw the chocolate packet in your hand at Inchae.

"yes it was so good I cried because of pleasure! are you happy!?"

as the girls' teasing filled the room, you were distracted by a message on your phone. you swallowed hard as you read the message on the screen, trying to suppress your racing heart.

"be ready at 8 pm on Sunday, I need to meet my little brat properly."

[paulyenvol6]

Kisses and Tea

Very soft and sweet Joel taking care of you because you're sick. Enjoy :)

Shoutout to @mrspascalsworld and I hope you're gonna feel better soon <3

Contains: fluff, domestic Joel, established relationship, implied age gap because why not, pet names (babygirl, honey, sweetheart), Joel being the nicest and softest grumpy old man in the world

Wordcount: 3,275

Masterlist

The sun was shining through the window creating beautiful flickering patterns on the wooden floor and bedsheet but you couldn't get up.

You had already felt it the night before when you had helplessly tried to get some sleep, turning from one side to the other without finding escape. Your nose had been stuffy which had made you unable to breathe properly, your throat sore and your eyes teary.

Now, the next morning it was even worse. Your view was blurry, your limbs aching and now there was the additional throbbing in your head that didn't allow you to think straight. You wanted to die. You wanted to go back to sleep and drift away until your body had beaten the cold but of course your brain didn't fulfil your wish and despite feeling exhausted you couldn't doze off again.

With great effort you turned on your other side again hoping that the position was more comfortable for your body but the opposite was the case and now your shoulder hurt as well. A muffled cry escaped your lips, your body shivering although you were covered with two blankets and your head burning like fire making sweat drool on your forehead. There was no way you could get up now.

Your stomach was roaring with hunger but you didn't have any appetite and the same was the case with your throat. It craved lubrication, a hot tea preferably, but the thought of anything flowing down your throat made you want to throw up.

With a long whine you pressed your face into the cushions feeling saliva drip onto the pillow but you didn't care. You didn't care about anything apart from the pain in your body and that was why you didn't notice the door opening.

"Honey?" Joel asked, concern clearly showing in his voice.

You swayed your head side to side to gesture him that you weren't able to answer, let alone get up but then felt a large hand on the small of your back.

"What's wrong, babygirl? You sick?"

The back of your head moved, a lazy nod telling him all he needed to know and the next thing you felt was his mouth kissing the top of your head.

'I'm all sweaty,' you wanted to say and push him away but once again, the thought of opening your mouth disgusted you and perhaps it was for the better because Joel's hands were so tender and careful as he stroked your back that you didn't want them to leave your body if you were being honest.

"I'm so sorry, baby," he whispered, his hand touching your left and right shoulderblade in turns while his other combed through your hair. "You think you can turn around? Lemme have a look at you."

You unwillingly shook your head but actually moved over, eyes blinking a few times as you took in his soft features. His expression was serious, marked by real concern about you and his eyes lovingly darted at you with the craving to somehow help you.

"Oh babygirl…," he whispered but didn't touch which you were thankful for in this moment because you felt so gross and disgusting that you didn't want anyone near you, even if it was your beloved Joel.

Seeing his soft eyes upon you pulled you even deeper into this drowsy self-pity, evoking a pout on your lips and your chin twitching with surpressed cries.

"I'm gonna make you a tea. And soup if you like. I know you might not feel hungry right now, but I'm gonna do it anyway so if you want anythin' later you won't have to wait."

You wanted to protest, tell him that the mere thought of food made your stomach tremble with refusal but for a start, what he had said sounded reasonable and also, you couldn't even speak up, even if you had wanted to.

"It's alright," Joel soothed you squeezing your weak and pale hand softly and trailing his thumb over the back of it. "I'mma take care of you and then you'll feel better soon. I promise. You just try 'n relax and maybe get an hour or two of sleep."

Frustration swept over you at his words and you shook your head over and over again.

"Can't sleep…," you managed to breathe, throat stinging at this slightest attempt and you instantly had to hold back the tears gathering in the corner of your eyes.

"Oh sweetheart…," Joel whispered and brought his hand to your forehead to feel the radiating heat. "You caught yourself a nasty cold."

The pout on your lips intensed, eyes angrily flashing at him as you pulled your hand away from him.

"Not my fault," you said quietly and crossed your arms in front of your chest.

"I know s'not. I don't blame you, honey, but now we should do everything so you're gonna feel better soon, mhm? How about I really hurry up making you a tea and some soup and then I'll get you to the couch and we can watch a movie. You can choose which one."

This aggressive and furious heat that had been setteling in your heart ever since last night wanted to take over and reply with an angry complain but once you thought about it, his plan actually sounded quite nice so you swallowed it and nodded avoiding his gaze.

"Good. I'll be right back, okay? I'll look after you while I'm making you soup but I'll have to leave you alone for a minute or two, okay?"

Joel climbed off the bed watching you with lifted eyebrows and you nodded again. Once he had left the room, door open so he could hear you in case you needed something, you shut your eyes trying to defeat the throbbing pain in your head but no matter what you tried, nothing seemed to help.

Although the rational side of your brain knew that it wasn't true, you somehow felt like Joel actually was the only person who could do something about your discomfort. Perhaps it was because he managed to fix anything. Whether it was the car, the tap or your emotional outbursts when something wasn't going the way you wanted it. He was there for you, patiently sitting through your crying sessions and embracing you in a firm hug once you felt ready to. What was a little cold compared to the dimensions of your worst kinds of outbreaks on particularly bad days?

You gulped, face drawing with pain and then tried to distract you by thinking about Joel and all the things he did for you in order to comfort you and make your life a little easier. It turned out to be peaceful and beautiful activity and yet you didn't manage to fall asleep and immediately opened your eyes when a weight sank down on the mattress right next to you.

You hadn't noticed him peaking into the room every now and then the past minutes and only now smelled the intense scent of vegetable wafting through the house filling your senses and making your insides turn.

"M'not hungry," you defiantly claimed but Joel gave you the hint of a smile and nodded knowingly.

"S'okay. You don't need to eat if you don't want to. But you want me to carry you to the couch now? To watch a movie?"

Joel reacted to your nod by pushing back the blankets and then sliding one arm underneath your knees and the other around your shoulder. You crouched against him, enjoying the way he effortlessly picked you up and savoring the love and solicitude he showered you with. Joel obviously saw it as well, a gentle smile passing over his face as he tightened his grip around your body to securely bring you into the living room and then lying you down on the couch.

Once your back hit the cushions your hands immediately outstretched towards him, yearning for his warmth close to your body but Joel carefully removed your hands that were picking at his sleeves and hushed your desperate whine by caressing your cheek.

"Shhh. I'll be right there. Just gonna get the tea from the kitchen."

Joel ignored your disappointed and sulky hum, rushing through the kitchen door and putting down a hot cup of tea on the couch table a few seconds later. Your swollen tired eyes lazily watched the steam creating beautiful forms in the air almost like deep clouds of veil and when Joel placed his large heated hands on your waist to adjust your body against his a shiver skated down your spine, heart fluttering with the need to be embraced.

And as if the two of you were speaking a secret silent language, Joel knew exactly what to do and where to hold you as he pulled you towards him so your back was snug against his chest. You settled between his legs, head dropping to his shoulder and soon the goosebumps on your arms were replaced by a lingering warmth igniting your nerves.

His fingers traced lazy circles over your waist that was covered by two layers of thick cotton but the gesture was what counted and you closed your eyes, feeling much better all of a sudden. Of course your body still hurt, you couldn't breathe through your nose and your headache hadn't subsided neither but just like always, Joel managed to calm you by holding you close to him, his presence wrapping around you like a warm blanket.

Speaking of blankets, he had reached behind him and conjured up your favourite one, which he now laid on top of you and adjusted, tucking the ends under his legs , so the cold air didn't have a chance to creep up on you. Only then did you hear his voice again, snuggling your face against him as you felt his hot breath brushing over your ear.

"You need anythin' else? And is this comfortable for you?"

"S'good," you whispered sliding down a little so that your head could nestle against his nape.

"Okay. What movie do you wanna watch? Or would you rather try to sleep? M'just sayin', now is the best time for you to force me to watch some crappy movie with ya."

He chuckled lowly and although you couldn't join in, your heart felt light at the sound, a peaceful glow settling under your skin.

"Pirates of the Caribbean," you said on the spur of the moment which made Joel narrow his eyes and look at your profile with suspicion.

"That ain't a crappy movie. Unless you're about to say part four or five."

You shook your head, a careful smile lingering on your lips that he returned with relief because seeing you happy was his life's purpose; it was that simple.

"I think part 2," you whispered after thinking about it for a brief moment.

Joel nodded reaching for the remote control and you closed your eyes again while he began tapping various buttons to play the movie of your wishes. You opened your left eye when you heard the familiar intro music and settled comfortably against Joel's broad chest, his touch on your arms light and soft as a silk cloth.

"If you wanna fall asleep, do it, alright? I'll stay here with you, I promise. And tell me if you need anythin'."

You nodded, tears of joy and love wettening your eyes but you were able to blink them away, not feeling like this was a good moment to bawl your eyes out. Instead you stared ahead at the TV and the content of one of your favourite movies of all time along with Joel's body hugging and cuddling you so beautifully actually made you forget your runny nose and burning throat for a while.

~~~~~~~~~~

At first, you didn't know what woke you up. At first you didn't know where you were either. But then you inhaled and felt the air restriction, moaning in discomfort as you sat up slightly.

"Hi babygirl," Joel soothed you, a hand gently rubbing over your shoulder.

"How long have I been asleep?" you asked referring to the black screen in front of you.

"I don't really know when you fell asleep. But I think around 2 or 3 hours at least."

You sniffed, turning your body to the side so your cheek rested against his chest as your hands wandered up to grab his arm.

"Can I have some tea?" you whispered, finally craving for something hot to defeat the burning sting in your throat but moaning as you felt Joel's body stretch towards the couch table.

"Don't worry, m'not gonna leave," he assured you and actually sat back against the armrest holding the cup in his hand.

You narrowed your eyes and were just about to ask about the tea not being hot anymore when Joel ran a hand over your side, carefully pushing you to rest against him again.

"Shhh, it's okay. I made you new tea while you were asleep."

"So you left?" you complained with your croaked voice which made Joel lift his eyebrows at you and you tilted your head, dropping your gaze.

"Thank you," you eventually mumbled and took the cup from his hand.

"You're welcome. By the way, the movie really is good. I can't believe it's your favourite movie 'cause I mean… there are so many awesome ones but it's good."

You carefully took a sip so you wouldn't burn your tongue and then leaned back again watching him upside down.

"We're gonna have to watch it again soon because I honestly can't remember anything. I think I must've fallen asleep during the first 30 minutes."

Joel grinned and then connected his lips to your forehead ignoring your sweaty glowy skin and the fact that you were sick and kissing you like he had the most precious and delicate thing in his arms.

"What do you wanna do now?" he whispered brushing with his pursed lips over the area behind your ear and running his hands through your hair.

"I don't know. What's the time?"

"It's 4 pm," Joel answered and you drew your face thoughtfully.

"Can we… watch something else?" you asked not really feeling like doing anything except resting and perhaps falling asleep again so you believed that a movie or a TV show was the best way to distract yourself and give your body the chance to recover.

"Sure. But you need to eat something, sweetheart. I can cook you whatever you want."

You turned in his grasp sniffing a couple of times while you trailed your hands up his arms which then came to a stop at his shoulders.

"Okay. I think I would like some soup."

Agreeing to his demand was already worth it just for the wide smile on his face that you returned but was shortly after wiped off as Joel carefully moved under you to get off the couch.

"Noooo," you complained reaching for him but he just gave you a pitiful look grabbing your hand but releasing it after giving it a firm squeeze.

"I'll be right back," he promised you with a wink of his eye that made your insides dance and your face was still flushed long after he was gone, busy warming up your soup in the kitchen.

When Joel returned you sat cross-legged on the couch searching the TV for a show that you felt like watching but took your eyes off the screen when he put a bowl on the table.

"Thank you, Joel," you said, heart pounding when he sat down next to you.

Words couldn't describe how much you loved him and it was days like this that made you once again see why. He was there for you with no restrictions or conditions. You loved him and he loved you and no matter what life threw at you, you felt like you would be able to go through it with this amazing precious man by your side. He cared for you like no one else ever had and you surely wouldn't let him go any time soon.

"No problem," he said watching you precisely as you grabbed the bowl. "You found somethin' you wanna watch?"

"We could watch an episode of friends," you proposed blowing some air on the boiling liquid, observing him under your lashes. In response Joel grimaced tilting his head but you gave him your biggest puppy eyes dramatically coughing in your arm.

"Friends... Really?" he sighed, making himself comfortable on the couch and resting one arm on the backrest.

"Pretty please?" you pleaded although you knew you had already won.

"Fine. Whatever. You're sick, you get to choose."

You giggled and sat back as well, holding your soup in one hand while taking the first spoon.

"Even though I'm not so sure about you bein' so sick right now…," he added but you furrowed your eyebrows and demonstratively inhaled so he would hear how stuffy your nose was.

"I am. Just listen to my voice."

"I know, I know. I was playing. Just eat your food."

Joel took the remote control out of your hand and scrolled through the episodes.

"Which one do you wanna watch?" he wanted to know, and you stared at the screen for a second, your eyes reading the titles of the different episodes before you put your hand on his.

"That one. I think you might like it. I feel like… Yeah, I have a good feeling about that one."

Joel rolled his eyes as he started the episode while adjusting himself behind you again.

"Don't talk so much. S'not good for your throat."

You had to smirk but listened to what he had said and kept your mouth shut, instead focusing on eating the soup that, you had to admit, really was good.

~~~~~~~~~~

This time you stayed awake through the episode which was why you didn't stop after that but watched more. It was almost 7 pm when you had to yawn open-mouthedly which made Joel glance at you.

"You wanna go to bed?" he asked and you thankfully exhaled.

"I think so. I'm really tired." Joel nodded in understanding and then helped you to pull back the blanket so you could get up from the couch.

It made you smile to think of his reaction to the episodes you had watched, because although he tried to hide it, there had been moments when he had clearly laughed at some stupid joke, and you had found it incredibly cute how quickly he had tried to collect himself each time, too proud to admit the fun he was having.

Joel didn't notice it, focusing on helping you up and then bringing you to your shared bedroom. Once there he pulled back the blanket for you to crawl under and then tucked you in, watching you with the softest and kindest puppy eyes you had ever seen in your entire life.

"You good?" he whispered caressing your cheek with his large hand.

"Yes," you replied and pressed yourself firmly against his rough, yet tender skin.

"Okay. Get some sleep now. I'm gonna go do the dishes but I'll join you soon, alright?"

You had your eyes closed as you nodded slowly, your thoughts already drifting away.

"Okay."

He kissed your brow, then straightening up and watching you one last time before turning around. It was the quiet "Joel?" that made him freeze when he already had the door handle in his hand.

"Yes?"

His dark eyes fell upon your face again, almost worried that something was bothering you.

"Thank you," you whispered and his sharp features softened up.

"You're welcome, babygirl. I love you."

Then he finally stepped out of the room, eyes and limbs tired, but an infinite love and satisfaction with the world filling him up to the brim.

[writerinthewoods05]

Shadows and Snow Angels

Chapter 1 - A little bundle

Azriel x Reader, Azriel x child OCs

Normally when your mate Azriel comes home from the camps and asks you not to get mad it's because he brought home another wounded animal, not a baby boy...

Word count: 1.4k

💕 💔

Requested: Sorta. This prompt wasn't requested to me per se, but I saw @romantasyreader28 made a post wanting someone to write it and it inspired me.

If you don't like what your reading click off!

Series warnings: past emotional abuse, past physical abuse, past emotional trauma, non explicit thoughts of suicide, depression, parental doubt, child abandonment, past child abandonment, brief talk of past pregnancy. no details mentioned, mention of non explicit SA. Every chapter will be individually tagged.

Author's note: I just wanted to say that this prompt pulled me out of a really bad writing slump after my co-writer/biscuit making master childhood kitty unfortunately passed about 2 months ago. So thank you @romantasyreader28, this story really helped me get back into writing and I hope you really enjoy it. It did deviate slightly from your original prompt but I hope that the fact that this will be a series makes up for it. Enjoy!

Author's note 2: hey so I lied, I got a boost of energy and actually finished this early, so I'm only 1 day late. I'm going to try and put a fic or drabble out every Friday but please be aware I'm in the middle of moving so if I miss a day or am late, it's probably for good reason.

Chapter warnings: brief talk of past child abandonment, non explicit memories of child abuse, brief mention of being pregnant, implied SA, some cursing but not much.

See normally when your mate Azriel comes home from the camps and asks you not to be mad, it's because he brought home another wounded animal, not a baby boy...

"Please don't be upset, Devlon said that if someone didn't take him then he was going to send him off to another camp and he would end up just like Cass... I couldn't just leave him like that." His Shadows reached out to you invitingly, curling and spinning like they were excited. "Love, please say something..."

Your mate never rambled, it wasn't in his nature and that's what shocked you the most to be honest. So you sat where you were on the couch, mid bite of pizza, trying to figure out if he actually adopted a baby without telling you, or if he just decided to babysit Nyx for the night and is pranking you. No, no he definitely adopted a baby and didn't tell you, that sounds about right for him.

"Azriel, tell me that this is a prank and that, THAT little boy is just our nephew in a table cloth..." You set down your plate of food and walked over to your mate, Shadows now running up your back and sitting on your shoulders calmly. You knew, you just had a feeling in your gut that he was not just joking around.

Azriel was clutching the small bundle to his chest as if it would disappear if he loosened his grip even slightly. You came and pulled back the fabric to see a small Illyrian infant tightly wrapped in a tattered excuse of a baby blanket. You gasped and clapped a hand over your mouth as you saw the most precious little thing, he had no clothes but the blanket. A lithe inky Shadow jumped from your hand and into the little boy. It nuzzled his cheek lovingly before returning to rest under your mates wing.

You scooped the baby up out of Azriels arms before he could react and practically ran upstairs to the nursery. You quickly set him on the changing table and unfurled the raggy fabric. The poor thing didn't even have a diaper just mess of fabric pinned against him. You didn't have to even leave the changing station seeing as the shadows that followed you up the stairs had a clean garment waiting right next to you. As you were changing him into a fresh, actual diaper, you heard Azriel's footsteps coming up the stairs behind you.

"Babe, I know that you have a perfectly reasonable explanation but your timing is kind of horrible Azzie..." You said only half joking as you handed him the baby back gently and grabbed the nearest actual blanket to wrap around him snuggly. You quickly ran to dress your sleeping baby girl is some warm clothes and a blanket too. Barely 2 weeks old and the little Astrid was already mixed into the family drama.

"Where are we going?" Azriel asked tentatively. He was holding the baby like a statue, only holding him right because of how you handed him over. Azriel's Shadows swarmed Astrid the moment you set her down to go nuzzle and love on her. You had taught them to be careful to not completely smother her. It was said that a Shadowsinger's Shadows would only listen to their master. Maybe it was the mating bond, maybe they just liked you but sometimes it seemed that the inky void that shrouds your mate, liked you better.

"Az, you know how to hold a baby, you know cuz your and Uncle... And a Father..." You set your still sleeping daughter back in her crib for a moment and padded over and cradle your mates face in your hand, your other intertwined with his scared one gently. "I'm not mad at you. Just, you do realize that we've only had Astrid for a couple of weeks and now... Raising two infants at once isnt easy. i mean look at a your brother. Rhys is one of the most put together males I know and he's been a reck with only Nyx to worry about."

"I know, and I'm sorry for not telling you. I was afraid if I didn't bring him home now Devlon might have sent him off before I could get back." Azriels shoulders seemed to finally relax a shadow falling from his mess of curls to sit around his neck calming. His grip on the swaddled little one became natural again. "You still didn't tell me where we are going, it past 1 in the morning."

You picked up Astrid, shooing away the inky void that doted on her constantly and walked to your bedroom to grab your shoes and your coat. Azriel stood in the hallway that lead back downstairs, waiting for you patiently. He was bouncing the little boy in his arms gently, this parental instincts finally coming back to him when the little one started to cry.

"Feyre always said that we could head over to the river house in a time of emergency and I'm declaring 'we just adopted a little boy with no clothes or anything we need to take care for a second baby,' an emergency. She probably still has some clothes that is too small for Nyx laying around, for now at least."

You both decided to walk the short distance to you home to the giant river house. Your daughters wings fluttered at the feel of snowflakes melting on the every so often. You both walked close together, as you usually did, babys in arms, the quiet of velaris washed over the two of you like a blanket. You could feel Azriel's Shadows almost climbing up your legs and coming to rest on your shoulders to admire their masters daughter.

"Ok..." You said slowly your head clearing with the fresh chilled air. "I'm not mad, stressed the fuck out, but I'm not mad.. But I'm going to ask some questions and I need better than 'I don't know', ok?" You needed to hear what happened, as much as it happens, it's rare for a baby to end up with no one and you wanted to know everything about this little life that you were about to add to your family.

Azriel nodded his head, his eyes trailed over the white city. As tense as he always looked, Azriel's Shadows curled up under his wings comfortably. He cradled the infant tightly to his chest, scarred fingers gently played with the edge of the blanket as you both walked. Normally the Shadows would flock to you when you had Astrid but they seemed to have divided, wanting to look over and cuddle both babys.

"Does he have a name?" You start with. As you cross the Sidra you can smell the food coming from the rainbow. You could even hear the faint sound of music booming, Rita's not being far away. You still can't believe that days of going out and partying until sunrise with your family wouldn't be an option for a long, long while.

"Not that I know of." He shrugged, adjusting the blanket so the infants wings fan out comfortably after he started to fuss. The boy seemed to be a calm baby so far but you would be taking him to madja bright and early tomorrow just to make sure nothing was wrong.

"How old is he?"

"Devlon said he's somewhere around 6 months old, but he didn't know specifics. He just said that his father was killed in the blood rite this year and his mother was... Like I said, he would have been just another Cass..." He bounced the little boy in his arms, more to soothe himself than the baby. "I just..."

You shook your hands before he could continue. Your blood boiled in your veins, and you had to take multiple deep breaths to keep from crying. You loved your mate dearly, and his brothers were your family, the best you could have asked for but Illyrians in general made you so angry most of the time! They treat females like property and they steal them just the same. Then the female gets shamed for being pregnant without a husband or killed seems like in this case it was the latter... If he really was like Cass, you prayed to the Cauldron that his mother had a peaceful second life after what she no doubt endured.

"Well, if we're going to keep him, he's going to need a name." You said with a smile as you neared the side walk that lead up to the river house. Your mate had the biggest heart and the kindest soul, you didn't care what anyone said, you knew him best. This male brought home countless animals so he could nurse them back to health. He always made sure that nothing bad happened to those animals. He would buy medicine and bandages and countless other things to try and heal them and if they didn't make it, they earned a spot in your backyard with the other rainbow pets, as Azriel likes to call them. If the Mother sent him a baby then she meant for us to be the ones to love him.

Azriel thought for a bit. He only looked up once we stood at the front door of his brother's home.

"What about Rhain?" A shadow flew up and wrapped around the door knocker, knocking loudly before returning to your mates shoulder.

"Why Rhain?" You asked before knocking again louder this time before you saw a light turn on inside meaning you got somes attention.

Azriel shrugged his shoulders and shook his head with the smallest smile coming to rest over his face. He looked down at the bundled little baby with a fondness you only seen him show to your daughter. You heard shuffling on the other side of the door and smiled at your mate before your brother in law opened the door, looking very much worse for wear.

"Rhain it is."

FYI Rhain, pronounced Rain or Rine, either is fine means strength, power, resistance, and potential. It also means 'the spear' in Welsh.

If you want to be added to the tag list or would like to be added to the tag list for the series masterlist plz comment or dm me and I'll add you.

Thank you so much for reading and I hope that you enjoyed!

Taglist

@romantasyreader28 @mulansaucey @jennnsthings @6v6babycheese @mich0731 @starlightandsouls @ohemgeewhat @littlelunatica @icey--stars @paleidiot @jir67 @celestialamore @rcarbo1

[obsessedwrhys]

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ Wolverine x Deadpool x F!Reader

ᯓ★ Being in a polyamory relationship with these two. (A dream inspired this AHAHHA–) fluff, lots of bickering between the two, funny/goofy shit, bit of jealousy/possessiveness, reader is fem!!

This whole relationship is a mess.

I'm talking never getting a moment of peace kind of mess.

For example this one time you drove the Honda Civic.

Nobody understood why you were the one behind the wheels 'cause now you're ramming into everything with Logan grabbing on the handle for dear life while Wade is having the time of his life at the back.

"Stop the damn car before we crash, bub! Yer gonna kill someone!" Logan shouted and at the same time Wade was screaming out the lyrics to "Highway to Hell" by AC/DC.

Did I mention how different these two are with you?

Wade loves it when you run to hug him, he would swing you around a couple of times with your legs wrapped around his waist.

As for Logan, he prefers something less than that. A simple hug is enough and you can't complain much about it because the way he completely engulfs you in his embrace always made your chest flutter.

It's no surprise that they are protective over you.

Like when you were captured by some troops in the void. The fire guy, Johnny Storm, couldn't help but try to flirt with you. He figured why not shoot his shot right?

"Hey..." He'd say, flashing you a cheesy smile.

And seeing his attempt to charm you, you couldn't help but find it amusing and chuckle.

Clearly the two didn't like it.

Which is why that may or may not be the reason why Wade decided to out the man and get him killed 🤷‍♀️ I guess we'll never know 🤔

You and Wade enjoy pulling pranks on Logan.

The sight of him being pissed off pleases you both.

There was this one time you guys swapped his whiskey to a non-alcoholic drink and you can imagine his frustration.

"WADE!!" But he can never get mad at you. He just can't.

Even Wade complains about this privilege of yours.

"Seriously Lo?! You're gonna get mad at me and not our lovely prank partner here? Come on man, we're both guilty parties in this crime scene. If you wanna get angry, at least share the spotlight :("

Cue you sticking your tongue out at Wade as he pouts with puppy dog eyes.

All jokes aside, the two love and support you dearly.

I like to think Logan is more of an old romantic and Wade is the adventurous type.

That's why it can sometimes take a while for them to decide what to get as a present for you.

"Why the fuck would she want a pillowcase with our faces on it?" Logan asked with genuine disgust in his eyes.

"Why wouldn't she?! It's cute as fuck, and you can never have too many pictures of us together. Besides, it's a lot cheaper than buying a life-sized statue of me for her bedroom, although that's an option too, I hear Wolverine-shaped body pillows are all the rage these days" Without realising, he continued on muttering nonsense to himself which had Logan roll his eyes.

"I'm buying her the leather jacket and it's final" Not letting Wade say anything, he'd walk off to the cashier with him left behind. His action causing him to get irritated.

"What about the budget?!?!" He'd raise his voice but Logan simply ignored him. Fed up, he stomps on his feet as he points at his back.

"Fine, you big lug!! I'll let you have your way this time. But don't come crying to me when she dumps us for a pair of more decisive superheroes!!" He'd shout.

In the end you appreciated the gifts you got for your birthday. Each gift speaks for their character.

You guys definitely have lazy days.

Days where you'll lounge around in pajamas and watch cheesy romantic comedies together, complete with a pile of blankets and snacks.

Expect there to be lots of laughter, cringing, and the occasional eye rolling. Not to forget how you three would start making fun of the characters and the cliche plotlines.

Logan clearly struggles to sit through the entire movie marathon and you always have the to be the one to pull his arm to prevent him from leaving.

"Gimme a break, bub. It’s the same damn thing every time— the good guy wins, the bad guy loses. It’s like they think we got the emotional range of a rock"

"Gee, what a buzz kill. But are they wrong though? You practically live like a rock!!" Wade laughed with Logan letting out a scowl.

Thank goodness you're dating them or else they'd be fighting almost all the time.

In the relationship you're the peacemaker

No but seriously Wade calls you that and the nickname has stuck to you.

You enjoy sleeping in the middle with the two on either sides. Half of the time you always wake up with the two fighting over you.

Just imagine Logan pulling you closer to him but before he could even do that, Wade would be quick to pull you back to his embrace despite them both being asleep.

You like to think it's their reflexes. That even when sleeping they're still fighting with each other 😭

However you absolutely adore the two.

Logan will MELT when you kiss his knuckles. Especially when you do it with your eyes locked to his. He will literally go feral for you.

And Wade? He absolutely loveloveloves it when you baby him. It's his guilty pleasure. Hold him close with his face placed against your chest and he swears the voices in his head finally quiets down. That's why you're his angel.

Also, the two really enjoy showering you with kisses. You can barely ever hold back a smile with the two smooching every surface of your face.

Will do anything to get your praise.

The competitiveness is too much.

Oh Logan got you a bouquet? Well Wade got you a bouquet made of tacos. Who's the better one now huh? 😋

To be fair Wade is Wade. There's nothing you can do about it... but that doesn't mean Logan is ever gonna let him get his way.

"Where's Wade?" You'd ask, watching Logan sink on the sofa beside you.

"Don't know... could care less..." He'd say, wrapping an arm around you to snuggle with you. In the other room Wade has been stuffed inside the closet. Completely restrained and duck taped.

All I can say is that dating them is all fun and love. Literal baby girls.