#can you tell im not that good at smut

[moonybug444]

toxic thoughts with connie<33

tw toxic relationships/lowkey abuse?? | connie grabs you by your hair n threatens ya | mean connie☹️☹️

thinkin about connie n you being in a toxic lil on and off relationship. calling it quits every other day cuz youre just so bad for eachother.

you guys are screaming n throwing shit at eachother every chance you get. but its never your fault, no its always connies.

“youre a fuckin idiot (y/n),” he takes another drag from the blunt in his hand, “‘nd you’ve got one more time to raise your voice at me before i come over there and beat the shit outta you.”

its just a threat. an empty fucking threat, you know it is, but glancing up at him shirtless, muscles bulging with nothing but his plaid blue boxers on and a mean glare on his face. you cant help that chilling shiver that goes down your spine.

“m’not—dont call me that!”

“maybe than, lets see…” he lets out a mocking loud laugh, “dont fucking act like one?” you hate how he wants to make you cry. how he wants to see you act a mess. how he does everything in his power to upset you. and you hate he he almost always wins. always pulls a reaction out of you.

you feel the tears spill over your cheeks before you can even try n hold em in and you do everything in your power to not just flop down on his clean grey carpet and roll around and curse him. thats what connie springer does to you.

“‘m so fuckin done with you,” you pull up the strap of the lightpink nightgown silk dress connie gifted you as a im sorry for fucking up, again gift that just flops right back off your shoulder, “nd m’serious hic this time, you wont every hear from me again.”

bullshit. you know its bullshit. and it pains you to admit, but you dont think you’ll ever truly be done with connie springer.

connie sits up at that. intrigued. “oh really?” he’s putting his joint out in the ass-shaped ashtray he stole from jean and scratching his hickey covered neck (from guess who) and you can tell hes not taking you seriously. he never does.

his tone is mocking when he huffs out, “go ‘head, y’know where the fucking door is dum-dum.” he’s grabbing the remote, just about to turn on somethin other than the lame shit playing on tv before your throwing one of your bunny slippers directly at his face.

atleast you tried hitting direct. it barely grazes his ear but youre still satisfied when you see his scrunched up face.

and you know hes real mad. his handsome face is turning red at the minute and hes grabbing the slipper from his side before heading towards you.

you try to get away quick, little feet making it maybe two steps out the room before hes grabbin you by the hair and pulling you towards the ground. “ow—connie,” here come the tears again, “s-stop..! let go of me!”

“stop all that fucking crying before i really give you some shit to cry about,” hes letting go of your hair and turning around before your shoving him from behind, trying to get even. “dont fucking touch me! i dont fucking care—” he cuts you off, “shut the fuck up. my gosh.” and hes turning around, grabbing you by your now scrunched up nightgown and pulling you real close to his face.

he can see how upset you are. the tears streaming down your puffy face, your brows all furrowed and all the hiccups coming from your swollen, wobbly lip. sometimes yeah, he does feel bad for how he treats you. the random disappearing days when he knows how much you depend on him, the name-calling even though he knows you cry over every-fucking-thing, the pushes and the shoves knowing your barely half his size. all of it.

still he cant help it. maybe theres something wrong with him. he doesnt know and he doesnt really care. he knows you wont leave so what the fuck, why would he stop?

“look at you,” he takes the hand that isnt practically raising you up to your tippytoes and cups your face, running his thumb over your bottom lip, “your the prettiest girl in the world y’know that? too bad your a crazy bitch.”

>_<

its only like an hour later n youve forgotten all about the petty fight with your boyfriend. forgot that you threw the slipper at him cause he was being sneaky with his phone nd refused to let you see it. dont care tho. you love him again.

“feels so good baby,” he groans, pushing in n out of your slippery pussy with his thick cock, “i love you so much…y’know that?”

you’re being shuffled down towards his standing form some more, ass hanging off of the bed and pushing against fat balls that are pat, pat, patting against your squishy thighs.

“yesyesyes, love you—i-i love you!” you dont even know what the fuck your saying—cant process anything but the feeling of his fat cock stuffing you full. hes so deep n you and its hard to even breathe. feel like hes up your nose.

“s’deep connie ngh…m’cummin again,” youre looking up at him. watching his pretty eyes open n close again n again. watching him bite his saliva covered lips and waching his button nose scrunch up in pleasure. your eyes flick down to obvious bulge in your tummy and you mewl wrapping your legs around his moving hips. trapping him.

your pussy is so fucking greedy, suckin him in again n again and she still cant get enough. connies bringing his hand down and pushing right on that bulge in your pretty tummy that has you both whining. looking you right in the eyes, “go ‘head princess,” and he giggles when you let out the sluttiest little moan, “that feel good huh?”

youre whining out the loudest connnieee follwed by some praise before your squirting all over him, getting both your tummies soaked up and making a mess all over his dark blue bedsheets.

hes following close after with an annoyingly sexy, fuuuck baby and coming right in your swollen pussy.

youre so tired. can hardly open your eyes when you feel connie already pulling out of you to go clean you up. grabbing one of his freshly cleaned sweat towels usually reserved for basketball, crouching down and dabbing it around your messy pussy.

“there you go princess,” hes speaking not to you, but to your cunt, “good as new.” hes leaving a big wet kiss to your pussy like he always does, standing right after and hovering over you to leave an even wetter kiss to your abused lips, throwing the towel somewhere across the room.

>_<

your cozily straddling connie in his bed, being lulled to sleep by his fingers smoothing over your hair.

hes smoking again, cautious enough to not blow it in your face though—he knows you hate smoke—thats only for when he wants to piss you off. you hear him clear his throat.

“m’gonna stop this baby,” hes smoothing over the same roots of your hair he tugged on earlier, “m’serious, no more of this arguing shit,” he grabs your face, pushing your lips into a pout. “ill do better.”

yeah fucking right. you both know thats bullshit. you guys ‘ll be back at all the screaming n yelling tomorrow.

[knifeforkspooncup]

*enters the the room with a step ladder under my arm*

*strides to the center of the room*

*unfolds the step ladder and climbs to the top step*

"Ahem"

*waits for silence*

"The last thing Aziraphale tasted before he went to Heaven was Crowley's mouth."

*vanishes in a puff of smoke*

[sky-is-the-limit]

My new hyperfixation. Best investment. So glad I decided to spend my money on a fucking masterpiece of a game and feed my greatest fantasy: a southern cowboy with a voice hot enough to make you come undone and looks like sex on legs.

Dare I say, hottest videogame male character? DARE I SAY IT?

[strangersatellites]

very excited to announce this!!!!

envy, wrath, sloth, gluttony, greed, lust, ao3

this is part one of what will be the

Seven Deadly Sins Series (NSFW 18+)

pride (noun) - inordinate esteem for one’s own excellence. It is a habit or vice that disposes us to think more of ourselves than we ought. 

The Hair.

King Steve. 

Pretty Boy.

Steve is no stranger to objectification. He’s well acquainted with the way girls blush and giggle when he smiles their way in the halls. The way guys seem to puff out their chests when they speak to him. 

In fact, his physical appearance has become so much a part of who he is at this point that he’s probably single-handedly keeping Farrah Fawcett spray on shelves across the nation.

But the thing about being naturally attractive, Steve learned the hard way, is that humility is what really gets under people’s skin. 

Blushes go pinker when his response to a giggly “You look handsome today, Steve,” is looking at his shoes with a quiet, “What, this? Thank you.”

Other boys look less ready to throw a punch or an insult his way when they sprinkle their gametime trash-talk with “Pretty Boy” and “King Steve” if he just laughs and keeps playing.

Humility is what really does it.

For most people.

In the past few months he’s been dating Eddie Munson though, he’s realized there’s one exception. 

It's not that Steve doesn’t think he’s attractive. It’s not that at all. He knows he’s good looking, spends an inordinate amount of time making sure he highlights it daily. Loves it about himself actually.

He doesn’t usually let people know that he knows, is the thing.

But Eddie loves when he’s vain.

Loves the way he primps in the mirror before they go out.

How he spins around to make sure his best assets are on display.

Steve’s honestly lost count of the number of times he’s been talking to himself in the bathroom, staring at his reflection saying “Damn, I look good in this outfit,” before arms are snaking around his waist and squeezing at his hips. A gravelly, “Fuck yeah you do,” in his ear.

That’s why, with a Herculean effort, Steve pulls himself away from Eddie’s lips where he’s in his lap on his couch.

They’re both breathing heavy, lips swollen, and eyes glassy. But Steve has an idea.

He rubs his thumbs over Eddie’s cheeks and breathes a laugh when he turns to nip at one of them. Can’t help but to lean in and kiss him again.

“Can we try something, baby?” He whispers into the barely there space between them.

Feels Eddie nod and hands grip at his thighs.

“Anything you want, Stevie.”

He trails a hand back to tangle in Eddie’s curls and shifts to bite at his ear and whisper, “Want you to fuck me in front of the mirror. Wanna watch.”

When Eddie pulls back from him it’s with a wicked smirk and eyes darker than Steve’s ever seen. He bucks Steve up and off and smacks him on the ass when he turns to leave.

“Yeah baby. Let's go watch how pretty you are.”

He knows his smile is blinding when he laughs back over his shoulder. 

*****

Steve always thinks he’s hot, but he thinks he’s prettiest when he’s kneeling and sitting back on his boyfriend’s dick with tear streaks down his cheeks and drool down his chest. 

He’s so spacey, and so stuffed full that he’d agree with almost anything Eddie said. 

Currently it's a litany of, “Look at you baby, you’re so hot,” and “My sweet baby. Prettiest angel,” and “Look how pretty you are, huh,” with every punch of his hips and bite to the side of his neck.

Between Steve’s punched out breaths and whines he’s nodding. “Mhm. ‘M the prettiest. So pretty when I cry.”

His agreements have Eddie groaning and wrapping the hand not digging into his hip around the front of his neck and dragging him backward into a bruising kiss. 

He’s smiling and Steve can feel him laugh when he whimpers against his mouth. “Tell me about it baby. Tell me what’s pretty.”

Gasps from deep in his chest when Eddie wraps his hand around his cock and tugs. 

“Tell me.”

Steve whines once and squirms under the attention. Loves it. 

“My eyes,” he gasps. Eddie hums from behind him and slows his hips to a deep grind. “My eyes look really green when I’m crying. I like them.”

A soft kiss dropped to his shoulder and two sets of eyes on him in the mirror.

“My hair. Like it when– when it's messy,” a hiccup and eyes squeezed shut when Eddie shifts inside him just right. “Like when it’s messy from your hands.” 

He slides his own hands up his thighs and squeezes at the hand Eddie still has against his hip. 

He meets his own gaze in the mirror and his face breaks into a smile as his chest heaves.

“Like my lips when they’re swollen. People can tell I just kissed you. Want ‘em to know.”

In a second Eddie’s got a palm flat against his back and has his shoulders shoved down into the carpet, his head twisted to see himself.

He knows he’s falling fast because he giggles when Eddie grips at his hips and pulls him back onto his dick. Giggles even more when Eddie looks up at him in the mirror and smirks when he pushes in deep.

“Pretty when I’m ass up for you,” he smiles and his eyes finally stray away from his own reflection to meet his boyfriends gaze, fucked out and cocky.

Eddie lands a sharp smack to his ass and squeezes. “Hell yeah you are baby. So pretty when you’re on my dick.”

One of his hands slides up Steve’s spine and presses down on the back of his neck and pulls a gasp from his lungs. 

“But you know what baby?”

Steve hums with his eyes locked on the way his ass bounces with each meeting of Eddie’s hips.

The hand snakes back around to tug at his cock again and he knows it won’t take much more when Eddie grits out “Prettiest when you come for me.”

His legs shake and he lets out a high whine as he spurts into Eddie’s hand.

“That’s it angel. God you feel so good, Stevie,” is all Eddie can get out before Steve feels his hips stutter and his breath leave him in low groan.

Steve knows he’s attractive is the thing.

Knows he’s pretty and loves it.

People tell him all the time.

But one of his favorite things to hear is when he’s coming down from his orgasm high, his boyfriend lists the things he finds prettiest.

“Your smile.”

“Your laugh.”

“Your heart.”

“The way you love people.”

“The way you love me.”

“The prettiest is the way you love yourself.”

[kakujis]

leaving love bites on u 💜

aka i have a huge thing for baji and his fangs 🥺

ft: baji, chifuyu, mikey (idk how he weaseled in)

warnings: biting/marking lol, blood mention, possessiveness, reader is gn but dress/skirt mention, all the boys are timeskip. MINORS DNI.

baji likes to bite and mark u everywhere. seriously, everywhere!! this isn’t just for your body either, it’s for places. he’ll mark u in the pet shop behind the counter, at a restaurant, amusement park, u name it and baji is there biting and sucking away <3 especially since u told him u love his lil fangs! he suckles hickeys into your neck all time, littering your collarbone with them as well. kissing ur hand turns into nibbling on your fingers. its not a secret that u biting him back turns him on, especially if it’s his finger or thumb that somehow found its way into ur mouth. if ur fucking, hes a little harsher, sinking his teeth into ur shoulder blade and lapping at the lil pricks of blood <3 honestly, the marking has become so distracting chifuyu and kazutora have asked him to ease up. he can’t help it, he just thinks ur so pretty all marked up and all his!!

cutie pie chifuyu only marks you in places u can hide, but he marks them all over. your chest, your stomach, your back, thighs, are covered with chifuyu’s hickeys. fuyu is actually pretty possessive over u, but would be very embarrassed if any of his friends called him out on it. he cant deny the way his heart races when he sees u wearing clothes u normally would knowing his handy work is underneath. he can’t wait to take those pesky garments off and give u some fresh marks <3

bonten!mikey likes to bite u in places that are juuuust barely hidden. as much as he would love to show them off, since you are his and his only, he finds it more thrilling this way. if u were to stretch, shirt pulling up, u can just barely see the bruised skin underneath. if u were wearing a skirt/dress and bent down, his mark would be there too, just barely visible on the back of your thigh. it's sort of a game for him! he loves the awkward coughs and throat clears when a glimpse of your pretty purple flesh catches the eye of one of his subordinates. where should he mark next?

[anarchist-aquarius]

❗❗❗✨✨✨LIFEHACK!!!!!!✨✨✨❗❗❗

no one can embarrass me if i embarrass myself first <3

-me, every day of my life

[proverbsss]

nsfw headcanons

John Tyler, Tell Me Your Secrets

disclaimer- John Tyler is a bad person who assaults women and worse, and if I met him in real life I would push him into traffic

John loves to condescend to his partner in a sing songy voice, doubly so before, during, or after sex

He refuses "good boy" as praise most of the time, but if you're about to cum on his tongue and it falls from your lips he will fuck you deeper and live for it

Usually if John finds a toy you own he destroys it. He's very possessive of what's his, and toys are only allowed when he's actively using one to break you down

Sometimes he'll melt things made of silicone or break things made of plastic right across his knee, making eye contact the whole time

"Which one feels better?" He demands while he's fucking into you, hitting spots inside that make you see god. "Well if it's me, then why the fuck would you need a toy?"

He loves just lying next to you and groping you agonizingly slow. Grabbing your ass and spreading it, putting a hand around your throat while you're going about your day

Mine. Mine. Mine. You will hear it so much

John figures out that raising his voice is a major turn on for you, and he takes advantage of it

John bites. A lot. Sometimes really hard without even thinking about it. If your skin and your smell hit that chord in him, he'll just sink his teeth into you

His ears are really sensitive and if you bite his earlobes he'll yelp and whimper for more sensation there

Ummm definitely some unhealthy kind of tracking device like you have a stealth collar with a microchip that links to some cute bracelet or watch he wears

Some nights he'll come home the swoon worthy charming John he likes to be, and then other nights there is nothing in his face but the desire to hurt you and fuck the daylights out of you

He'll blame you for sparking his lust. "It's your fault I'm hard, fix it now" "Well I wouldn't have had to finger you if you weren't squirming all over my carseat would I"

He loves seeing you hump your hips on something like his pillows or his shoe. You work so hard when everything could be so much easier if you just used your words and admitted that you need him to defile you

[fatuifucker]

I wanna finish my requests quickly because I know when I write a request I will never be happy with it lol with a request, the premise is so basic and simple that the most you can do is write drabbles or headcanons. Although it gains the most attention and most people prefer that to let's say 1k+ fics on Tumblr, I don't like those because it isn't a testament to my writing skill.

I personally don't like it when people praise my writing ability when talking about those drabbles or hcs because literally anyone can write those things, I just happen to be the one you found or who came up with that idea. Even if I died, you don't need me to write those things because literally anyone else and even you, yourself, can write those.

[wanderrghost]

Also just an FYI to Fandom at large: the phrase "filter out smut/kinks if you don't like them!!" Only works if people. Yknow. Tag their shit.

So writers. Please.

Tag your shit.

[lokissweater]

talk baby ⋆｡°✩

{mlb!megumi fushiguro x f!reader}

summary: it’s the season of the world series!— your little life with megumi absolutely warm and loving as you spent every waking moment together, the both of you never failing to hang out or speak to one another since the very moment you two made it official. but when the higher ups start demanding more of megumi to bring the world series home, tiring him out and causing him to lose sleep? a wedge is driven between you both as megumi tells you words he wished he’d never said.

warnings: MDNI. afab!reader, cursing, FLUFF, ANGSTYY, p in v sex, unprotected sex (wrap it yall), SMUT, baseball talk, megumi LOOVESS YOUU my goodness, DONINANT AF MEGUMI OBVIOUSLYYY, creampie, shower sex, DIRTY TALK megumi has a filthy mouth, megumi and reader get into a fight, it’s the world series, all characters are aged up.

word count: 12.5k (IM SORRY IM SORRY IM SORRY-)

authors note: THE WAIT IS FINALLY OVERRR FUCK i cannot thank you all enough for the support with these series. i saw all of your AMAZING suggestions and sprinkled them all over THANK YOU!! i POURED my heart into this and i really hope you all love itttttt :,( STAY TUNED FOR THE NEXT FIC OF THIS SERIES AAHHH!! I LOVE YOU MWAHHH <33

i highly highly advise you to read the first part of this fic or else you won’t be able to understand some of the storyline and references :( you can find it here!

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

megumi fushiguro loved how much you talked.

“—and then i went to the bakery down the street from my campus to get that one coffee cake i always get? the one you brought me after my class?”

“mhm.”

“but they were freaking out of it it’s like they knew i was coming to take their stock man. it was seven in the morning how the fuck are you out of coffee cake?”

megumi laughed softly and pressed a slow sweet kiss to your cheek, readjusting his arms around your waist as he scooched your body closer to his on his lap, the both of you on his huge black bean bag that sat in his living room as he leaned the side of his head back on your shoulder, relaxed and a little sleepy.

“so then i had to go to the one on campus, even though i already know it doesn’t taste the same…” you sighed sadly. “what if they did that on purpose? what if they want me to stop coming?”

megumi huffed an amused breath through his nose and shook his head gently against your shoulder. “don’t think so baby. i feel like you keep them in business with how much you go.”

you huffed and crossed your arms, grumbling. “yet they treat me like this...”

tilting your head down then to get a better look at him, you peeked at his sleepy face and tired eyes as he tried his absolute hardest to stay awake for you, wanting to listen to everything you had to say and more, but his eyelids drooping every couple of seconds before opening back up again just not letting him.

you smiled softly and carded your fingers through his black hair, pushing the front strands back and giving him a cute peck on his forehead.

“take a nap gumi… you’re so tired i can see it.”

“uh uh.” megumi hummed.

he lifted his head groggily and propped his chin up on your shoulder, eyes closed.

“keep going.” he murmured, his words a little slurred. “did you end up getting your coffee cake from the other bakery..?”

“i did.” you responded softly, caressing your thumb over his warm cheek as your soothing voice lulled him. “it was nasty. the end. c’mon baby you have practice tomorrow—”

“no.”

“gumi it’s late i don’t want to keep you uuupp.” you whined, nudging him.

“if you sleep over.” he mumbled.

“but i have class tomorrow.”

“i’ll take you.”

“but you always do and i feel bad…” you pinched his cheek softly. “it’s okay i can—”

“don’t care.”

you giggled. “well i do. i want you to get more sleep gumi, your practices are crazy long now and you have them like everyday—”

he groaned loudly and ushered you up, you complying as you watched him lazily stand from the bean bag and grab you, baggy eyes half lidded as he picked you up from around your legs and threw you over his shoulder— something he always did ever since the day he confessed, and something you absolutely floored over whenever he did it.

your giggles rang through his quiet and spacious apartment that made him sleepily smile as he lazily carried you down the hall and to his room, setting you softly to sit on his plush bed as he pressed a sleepy kiss to the top of your head, though nearly almost missing, him leaning back up and grabbing the hem of his black shirt— pulling it over his head and carelessly tossing it somewhere in the room before climbing into bed.

you felt so so bad. the team’s schedule was released just two weeks prior, and seeing as the world series was coming up— the most important segment of competitive games they could possibly ever have, the coaches and managers were grinding and overworking their players to pure fucking filth, them wanting to keep their streak as the number one baseball team no matter what it took.

and because of that, megumi was always so tired and stressed— holding on day by day as the higher ups demanded so much of him because he was the most skilled on the team, him spending his days trying to stay awake and make time for you— picking you up from class and taking you out to lunch like he always did, but your worried gaze always on his dark under eyes as you insisted and told him already that you understood, that he didn’t need to right now if it was over the subject of his career.

and especially if it was for the world series.

“lay down.” he murmured, patting the pillow next to him as he peeked at you with one eye open.

you stood, pulled the covers back and hopped in, megumi’s arm immediately snaking around your waist and pulling your back to his bare chest, his face nuzzling in your hair as you noticed how quickly his breathing deepened, falling asleep almost the minute you got settled in his arms and fitting like a little puzzle piece.

it had been almost an entire year since you and megumi started dating, and you have never ever been happier in your life as you thanked your lucky stars over and over again for being such a dumbass— wholly believing that if one thing had changed, it wouldn’t have played out the way that it did.

and you adored the way that it played out.

megumi was so affectionate. everyday. his love language being physical touch as he literally never left you alone and always had to be touching you in any given situation— like his hand on your thigh whenever he drove, playing with your fingers from across the table while out at a restaurant… and like now, his toned body literally engulfing you into his that it made you feel so cared for and warm and loved, something you always wanted to feel for the rest of your life as long as it was with him.

the next morning he drove you to school like he said he would, and then went straight to practice after, you telling him that you would be there once your classes were over.

and when you did get to the stadium later that day, megumi was mad.

“what the fuck happened?” you quickly sat next to your best friend on the sidelines, her snickering as you both watched megumi tell off another player for fumbling a double play on the field.

“they’re making more errors today,” your girl friend sighed. “they’re all nervous since their division series game is tomorrow and they’re getting closer to the big thing… but megumi is not having it.”

“you bobbled the ball go to first fucking base and eat it what the hell are you doing trying to—”

you gnawed at your bottom lip.

it was common for megumi to bark out orders and take charge on the field, that wasn’t out of the ordinary, but it was only here and there where he was yelling and insulting the rest of his teammates like that (mostly rarely). a sign you knew was because he was stressing the fuck out.

“what you just did was a kiddie fucking error we won’t make it to the world series like this dingus the fuck are you—”

you covered your face and groaned. “i can’t watch… i don’t think i’ve seen him like this since that one day he asked me to come here.”

“you mean the day he ate you out in—”

“shuuushhh!” your hands shot out and slapped over her mouth as she let out a muffled laugh, your eyes wide and cheeks pink as you frantically looked around to see if anybody had heard her.

she took your wrists then and pulled them away. “have you guys even had sex yet? how many times am i gonna ask you until you say yes—”

you nudged her away. “no! we haven’t yet.”

you didn’t know why you hadn’t— the topic just one that was never brought up by either of you.

but you’ve definitely done other things though.

megumi was like a dog, not knowing the meaning of ‘keep your hands to yourself’ as he was always groping your ass in public out of no where just to hear you squeak in surprise, shoving his hands down your pants and making you cum repeatedly on his fingers when you’re both innocently just watching a movie on his couch, pressing his face into your tits and sucking hickeys whenever you wore a low cut shirt, and bullying his way in between your legs to lick and devour you up whenever he felt like it— all things he did with zero hesitation nor self control.

you weren’t complaining though, definitely not— you were just as freaky.

because every time megumi wore those gray sweatpants after practices that you loved oh so very much, no shirt on with his perfect toned body out only for your eyes— your mouth was on him, licking his chest all the way down to his pelvis, tugging the waistband of his sweatpants and boxers down until all that was left before you was his mlb dick, you taking him into your mouth and sucking the absolute life out of him until he was shaking and breathlessly chanting your pretty name like a prayer—

“break!”

you pulled yourself from your thoughts and stood, your eyes already watching the way megumi walked over from across the field with his head down, chest heaving and his face glistening with sweat against the setting sun, his baseball uniform covered in dirt.

both you and your girl friend walked down the steps and towards the bullpen, you quickly grabbing a clean white hand towel from the gatorade jug rack beforehand and catching up, spotting yuji and megumi already seated inside on a bench.

upon megumi noticing you coming up, he smiled softly, tiredly.

“you guys are sucking today.” your best friend deadpanned, and you elbowed her.

“no. you guys just look really nervous… is everything okay?”

you took a seat next to megumi and silently offered the clean towel, him gently bringing up your extended wrist and pecking it in gratitude before taking the towel and wiping down his face, your cheeks flushing in response.

yuji sighed deeply and shook his head, scratching the back of his neck. “everyone’s literally losing it. we win every year but each year that comes is extra added pressure to keep that up.”

megumi nodded wordlessly in agreement, his head hung.

“well this is your first bad practice isn’t it?” you softly mentioned.

“yeah… maybe it’s just today and you guys will be okay tomorrow.” your girl friend added, smiling comfortingly at yuji, him giving her the same smile back but with apprehension in his eyes.

“would’ve been fine if it was yesterday.” megumi cut in, voice monotone. “not today. not when it’s the last leg for the world series.”

he leaned back against the wall and crossed his arms with closed eyes, yuji nodding next to him.

you pulled your lips into a thin line, heavy anxiety brewing in your chest at the thought of them possibly losing before even getting into the league championships, something their team has never done before as they’ve always just gone straight through.

in order to get through to the world series, their team has to win the division series and the league championships, then they earn their rightful shining spot of playing in the world series and winning— something megumi has been a part of for almost three years now, and something the team has dominated over for five consecutive years straight.

but what if this year was different?

“how are you feeling?” you gently asked megumi after a bit. “i saw you were a little mad today on the field…”

he slowly pried his eyes open and looked at you, sighing softly through his nose.

“m’fine pretty baby.” he murmured. “they’re just not playing like they should be.”

megumi took his cap off and scratched the side of his head, his eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. “and neither am i to be honest.”

your eyes softened.

“what do you mean?”

“m’just not meeting the standards i set for myself.”

“but you play well in every game gumi..” you mumbled. “don’t overwork yourself please. just keep doing what you’ve been doing… it’s been going great so far, hasn’t it?”

he gave you a little smile and lazily reached up to delicately caress and run the ends of your hair through his fingers. “i need to amp it up though. i need to try harder.”

“try harder when you’re already winning?” you quirked a confused brow.

he nodded.

“what’s the reason behind that?”

megumi gave you a sly smile. “because you’ll be watching me.”

you gawked, shaking your head at him. “gumi, you know anything that you do makes me freak out and it’s embarrassing...” you subconsciously tugged a bit at the sides of his jersey. “the way you tied my shoes for me the other day made me freak out. the way you pumped my gas last week made me freak out. the way you stuck your fingers inside my pu—”

his eyes bulged open as he shot forward and muffled you with a kiss, you kissing him back and laughing cutely once he pulled away.

“nasty mouth…” he mumbled, but the little grin on his face made you giggle as he put his cap back on over his head and nudged it down, trying to conceal his eyes and the blushing of his cheeks— but you catching on anyways.

“how was class?” he asked quietly, readjusting his cap. “did you get your coffee cake after i dropped you off?”

you shook your head. “no because i’d rather die than get the one on campus. they need to close that place down.”

megumi snorted, but his eyebrows pinched momentarily as he took your hand in his and started playing with your fingers. “you should’ve told me. i would’ve drove you to the one you like.”

“no gumi i wasn’t gonna make you do that... i wanted you to sleep in as much as possible.”

“i’ll take you after practice.”

“no! you need to nap after don’t waste time—”

“m’not wasting time.” he replied, but before you could get another word in, his coach called all players back on field.

“i’ll see you after.” he stood and pecked your forehead. “i love you pretty baby.”

you smiled shyly, your cheeks a cute pink.

“i love you too.”

thankfully, megumi didn’t seem as pissed off for the rest of practice, and you hoped it was because of the little chat you had with him in the bullpen prior and that it cheered him up in some way— the team playing a lot better and actually working together this time instead of being at each others throats over feeble mistakes.

and when they were all finally back at the locker rooms packed up and ready to go, you organized his clean uniform for tomorrow and hung his gloves neatly inside his locker, closing it once you were done.

“you don’t have to do that baby.” he murmured, gesturing to his locker as he swung his duffel bag over his shoulder and extended a hand. “organize. i can do that.”

“but i like doing it...” you took his offering hand and interlaced your fingers with his. “it helps you find things quicker.”

you both stepped out, quickly bidding your girl friend and yuji goodbye on the way as you walked down the echoey hallway together.

“—you also don’t have to drive me to school every morning but you do that anyways.”

he smiled. “touché.”

he led you out of the arena and over to the private parking area for players and crew— him opening the passenger side door for you to step inside and shutting it after, throwing his duffel bag to the back once he got in the drivers seat.

and like he always did, megumi buckled you up himself, grabbing the seat belt strap and pulling it over you to click on the other side with a kiss to your cheek— him never letting you do it yourself since the day you two properly met.

“do they sell food at the bakery?” he looked over at you as he pulled out. “they do don’t they.”

“they do!” you nodded sweetly. “but we’re not going.”

“why.”

“because you need to sleep—”

“no.”

“megumi—”

he shot you a glare and you squeaked.

“gumi! i-i meant gumi!”

he fixed his glare and broke out into a small smile instead, laughing lightly as he set his big hand over your thigh and squeezed lovingly.

you giggled softly.

“lunch first and then i’ll sleep.”

“oh my—”

you reached over for the door handle and pulled, brows furrowing once the lock wouldn’t budge after multiple frantic tries.

“you still have child lock on?!”

megumi shielded his mouth to hide his snicker, eyes to the road.

“uh huh.”

“why?!”

he gave you a deadpanned look and pointed to the door. “exhibit a, baby. the car is moving.”

“gumi if you hate me just say that.”

pulling into the bakery’s parking lot, he playfully rolled his eyes at your comment and pinched your cheek gently.

“be quiet.”

the bakery was a cute little place that was a frequent pit stop for the both of you to pick up breakfast on the way to the things you had to do in the mornings— always cozy and warm and filled with little trinkets and postcards of places from around the world, you always gushing when you or megumi would spot a new souvenir on the walls or on the shelves, and him sometimes having to stop you from snatching some for yourself…

“they have a million!” you whispered. “they won’t notice this one. please it’s from greece it’ll look cute on my fridge!”

megumi sipped his lemonade and gave you a half lidded look as you both sat in a booth.

“i don’t know if anyone has ever told you this but.” he gently slid the coffee cake closer to you, silently ushering you to eat. “that’s called stealing.”

“not if they don’t notice.”

megumi gave you an amused smile.

“i’ll take one for you too!”

“for me?”

“yeah!” you put your elbow on the table and propped your chin on your palm, tilting your head with the cutest expression megumi has ever seen in his fucking life.

“i’d do anything for you.”

his cheeks flooded pink, and he swallowed thickly.

megumi would do anything for you.

“i appreciate that pretty baby,” he murmured, tenderly tracing the pad of his index finger mindlessly around the back of your hand.

“great! so can i do it?”

“no.”

“maaannnn!” you slumped over the table and pouted. “you’re no fun.”

he chuckled and took a bite out of his ham and cheese deli, your mannerisms sometimes reminding him of his dad.

he swallowed.

“gojo wants to meet you.”

you froze. “really? he does?”

megumi nodded.

“okay! that’s okay— wait no! wait—” you groaned and leaned against the booth. “i don’t think he’s gonna like me very much…”

“huh?” his eyebrows furrowed. “why do you say that?”

you peered up at him sheepishly. “because i talk too much… i’m not gonna notice and end up telling him my lore, my school gpa, and my social security number.”

megumi laughed, and your heart fluttered at the sight of his crinkling eyes and gorgeous smile, the sound of it making you swoon.

he shook his head and rubbed his sleepy eyelids. “no baby... he’d love you. i know he would.”

“i don’t know gumi…” you sighed, looking down at your lap. “i want to meet him of course! that’s a given… but..”

megumi quirked a brow. “but?”

“i just don’t want to look stupid…” you laughed nervously. “it’s happened before where my friends parents say i’m a blabber mouth and i don’t want to embarrass you—”

his tired eyes narrowed. “blabber mouth? who’s saying you’re a blabber mouth?”

“my— my ex boyfriend in high school…” you cowered a little. “but it’s okay because i was over sharing!—”

“no.” he said firmly, his gaze looking directly into yours. “you’re not a blabbermouth. there’s a difference between being really open and friendly with people right off the bat and being a blabbermouth.”

megumi shook his head in annoyance. how could someone ever say you were a blabbermouth? he had never heard something that was so far from the truth.

you were too sweet for your own good, that was your only fault. you considered everyone you met a close friend of yours and weren’t afraid to tell them whatever came to your precious mind and made them feel welcome— something that megumi adored so much about you… so much, and something that made him borderline violent when people berated you for it.

“they just can’t handle it when someone is actually genuine. like you. and that’s not your fault.”

the shiniest smile grew on your face then, your eyes sparkling and feeling like a million fucking butterflies were fluttering all over your tummy— internally screaming at his words.

“thank you gumi…” you spoke softly. “i’m glad at least you don’t see an issue with it.”

“i don’t.” he shook his head. “i don’t at all.”

he loved it.

the rest of your lunch date was spent with megumi still not letting you steal the greece trinket magnet from the wall, you scolding him for the bags under his eyes, and him buying you two more slices of coffee cake to go no matter how many times you told him it was okay, the both of you gathering your things and going back to his car after a bit for him to drop you off back home.

“i’ll be here in the morning to take you to class.” he said gently, turning the corner and nearing your street.

“what? isn’t the division series game tomorrow?” you asked, taken aback. “gumi no just get as much sleep as you can it’s a big day. i can take myself.”

he looked at you boredly.

“no.”

“guumiii!”

he pulled into your driveway and shifted his gear into park, the corners of his mouth turned upward into a little goofy grin.

“i can take you baby it’s fine,” he pushed gently. “don’t worry.”

“you’ve been stressed though… and tired.”

you unbuckled your seatbelt and reached over, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him in as he immediately leaned in and tucked his face into your neck, breathing in your honeyed perfume and letting himself slump into your soft frame.

“please promise me that after the division series, you’ll rest up like crazy before the league championships.” he pulled back slightly to look at you, his eyes nearly closing as he sleepily blinked. “okay?”

“league championships? didn’t know we already won.” he murmured.

you giggled. “obviously. you’re my cool baseball man, are you not?”

he tiredly grinned and pressed a sweet sweet kiss to your cheek, him biting down on it after and making you yelp before snickering and pulling away.

“bye gumi,” you quickly grabbed a slice of coffee cake and placed it on his leg. “here eat this on the way home so you don’t fall asleep.”

he chuckled and watched as you grabbed your things, hopped out, and ran across the front of his car, leaning your head in through his open window once you reached him and pressing your soft lips to his, megumi fucking melting at the feeling.

you pulled apart and he pecked you one last time— a series of i love you’s iterated before you backed away and waved excitedly from your front door, him waiting until you were inside to reverse, his engine roaring and his black car shining against the moonlight as he sped down the street.

the next morning you got up around the time that you usually did, showered and did your hair and got ready for class, packed your school bag and made your bed—

but megumi hadn’t texted you. like at all.

he usually sent you a good morning text, followed by him letting you know when he was leaving the house, followed by when he was on his way, and followed by when he was just down the street and pulling up.

except you got nothing.

you figured maybe today was just one of those days where he maybe just simply forgot and was already on his way, but as you stood literally outside of your house, gnawing on your thumb and the time coming painfully close to the start of your morning class as you still got nothing from megumi (even when you had texted him multiple times at this point), you started shitting it.

just as you were about to run inside to get the keys to your car, your phone buzzed as a picture of you and megumi flashed across the screen.

megumi!

“hel—”

“baby!—” he breathed out, frantic. “baby i’m sorry i’m so sorry i’m coming okay im down the street—”

“what happened?” you breathed out worriedly, your heart hammering against your chest.

“i overslept!—” he explained quickly. “i’m late to the team’s call time and— and you’re late to class and i— fuck!”

you heard his horn blare and his tires screech as muffled curses flew from his mouth, you jumping at the noise.

“sorry sorry someone cut me off i’m almost there—”

“no gumi go straight to the stadium you’re late!” you spoke firmly. “i can take myself—”

“no but i wanted to see you before the game—”

“it’s fine we can see each other after the game okay? when you win—” you grabbed your keys from the coffee table by your door and ran out, unlocking your car and getting in. “you’re late baby so fucking late please turn back this isn’t good coach is gonna chew you out—”

“shit! i know i know—”

“go gumi hang up it’s okay!”

“okay.. fuck okay okay—”

you heard rustling on the other line before he spoke again.

“i love you i’m sorry ill see you after!”

and the line went dead.

you slugged through the rest of your classes as the day felt way fucking longer than it normally did, you desperately just wanting to see megumi and know that he was okay, that he wasn’t in trouble with his coach and the management team for being over an hour late to the division series call time, you on the verge of literal tears multiple times over him.

your best friend and you had planned to get ready for the game together and sport your men’s jerseys from the stands— a girl’s night you were agonizingly looking forward to all freaking month, and so so excited that the day was finally here to support and be present for the making of yet another year for the boys’ team.

“and then he hung up. i thought he was gonna get into a wreck man—”

you ran your fingers through your styled hair in your vanity mirror, your best friend readjusting her jersey behind you— ‘itadori’ in big capital letters on the back.

“megumi is the most hard headed mean stubborn man i have ever come across in my life.” she searched around in her makeup bag, pulling out her lip liner and reapplying next to you. “i don’t know how many times you told him to sleep and get some rest. and yuji too! he hasn’t stopped talking about him since the schedule change and now i’m starting to think he’s in love with him.”

you laughed loudly.

“i know…” you sighed anxiously through your nose, nervous clammy jitters in your chest. “his eye bags have gotten so bad this past week.”

“i think it’s because he’s been practicing over time.”

you stopped.

“what do you mean?”

she looked at you quizzically. “i thought you knew? yuji told me that the higher ups had a meeting with megumi and told him that they were expecting him to bring the world series home.”

she popped the lid back on her lip liner and threw it in her bag. “he practices all night on the field until like four am.”

“what the fuck?” your eyes narrowed. “he never told me that? he picks me up for my seven am class everyday… that means he’s only been getting what— like two and a half hours of sleep this past week?”

she stopped. “he didn’t tell you?”

“no!” you exclaimed. “when was this meeting?”

“at the start of last week.”

“oh my god.” you grumbled.

why didn’t he tell you?

“that’s fucked up.” she shook her head. “talk to him about that after babe… i don’t know why this man didn’t tell you something like that.”

“i would’ve never let him pick me up for class if i knew this was going on…” you gloomily fiddled with the buttons on your jersey. “or hang out with me after practice.”

and why the hell were the higher ups demanding so much from megumi? why were they burning him out with a responsibility so huge as to ensuring the success of the team for the world series? that wasn’t fair to him. that wasn’t fair at all.

your girl friend hugged you comfortingly.

“it’s fine don’t worry about it okay?… just talk to him after.”

once at the stadium, you and your best friend squeezed and pushed through the crowd to get to the v.i.p. section, the both of you sweating and panting over having run across the stadium’s parking lot and the main area, all because your best friend couldn’t decide which way to do her hair, and because you couldn’t decide if you should wear a skirt or jeans.

you ended up choosing for each other and calling it a day.

“hey! you guys!”

you both snapped your heads up and you recognized the source of the voice as one of the assistant crew members of the team, jogging up to you guys with two devices in his hands.

“you guys want these radios or are you good? they’re connected to the announcers and have earbuds!”

“oh i’ll take one! thank you!” you answered politely, smiling as he passed you and your best friend a radio.

you pushed the earbud into your left ear and sat.

the crowd was buzzing and cheering with excitement, flashes of light shimmering throughout the sold out stadium as many held up posters and signs or bobble heads, you smiling wide every time you spotted a few of megumi’s face and name.

the air was warm, and every kind of news reporter, publicist, and journalist was present on the sidelines as they filmed and interviewed several players from the opposing team.

“let’s play ball!”

the crowed roared, claps and whistles ringing through the air as yuji walked out from the dugout, the both of you screaming as the rest of the team followed suit, your shoulders evidently relaxing at the sight of megumi jogging out into position looking absolutely jaw dropping in his clean cut uniform and cap, serious and focused.

as the game ensued, it was no surprise that the boys’ team was absolutely demolishing the opposing players, megumi doing fucking stellar out on the field as he caught ball after ball with his glove, the announcers commentary certainly helping with explaining the context of the game due to your lack of knowledge, but you trying your hardest anyways to understand on your own.

and finally after a while of switching sides and megumi hitting like a greek god, the teams switched sides what seemed like the final time since it was almost the nine inning, his turn to hit.

“walking up to base now… number eighteen— megumi fushiguro!”

the crowd went fucking insane as he walked up, you immediately standing and screaming over the railing as he took his position up there— swinging soft faux hits before properly adjusting his footing on the loose dirt, fans waving around their fushiguro banners or his baseball cards as he settled.

the bags under his eyes…

you gnawed anxiously at your bottom lip. his team was so close to moving on to the league championships…

“and the pitcher throws….”

hit!

“strike one!”

megumi screwed his eyes shut and grimaced, shaking his head furiously as he shook the nerves from his body and wiped the sweat from his forehead with his sleeve.

“oh!” the announcers groaned. “looks like megumi fushiguro missed a hit for the first time in history!”

for the first time?

you whipped your head around to face your girl friend. “for the first time?”

she looked at you with the same terrorized expression.

“fuck i knew he always hit but i didn’t know he never missed…” you whined worriedly. “he’s exhausted man i can see it look—”

megumi’s footing slightly slipped from the dirt as he positioned himself, getting ready for the next swing.

“and the pitcher throws again…”

hit!

“strike two!”

“fuck!” megumi roared, walking off the home plate and chucking his bat to the wall— the wood flying and clattering as it hit the ground, your eyes widening in horror.

“woah looks like fushiguro got another strike and.. needs to take a breather off the field..?”

“if megumi doesn’t get this next hit, they’re done!” your girl friend shook her head, eyes wide and afraid. “the other team is gonna take it!”

you ran your fingers through your hair exasperatedly, frantically looking at the scoreboard and back at megumi who was pacing a little off the plate with his head down, his hands on his hips.

“fushiguro!” you spotted yuji yelling from the dugout. “get back on the plate! we could get flagged!”

megumi’s chest heaved as he picked up his bat and wiped off the dirt, walking back over to the home plate and repositioning himself.

cameras flashed and recorded as he tried to get back into focus, news reporters talking their asses off and journalists scribbling god knows what— as they just earned themselves their biggest headline of the season.

megumi fushiguro missed his first hit in playing history.

“and the pitcher throws…”

hit!

“oh there it goes! looks like a fair ball!”

the crowd rallies as megumi books it over the first two bases, everyone watching as the ball hits over the outfield fence as he fucking dashes across the remaining two bases like nothing, earning himself a home run—

and scoring a spot in the league championship games for his team.

you and your best friend jump for complete joy, throwing your arms around each other and swaying as fans all around you celebrated and cheered just like the both of you, you happily watching the players from the dugout run up and engulf megumi in a group hug, jumping and laughing.

as the crowd began to disperse and take leave, you both quickly ran down the steps and to the field, you immediately spotting megumi and running up to him with your arms out.

“gumi!”

he noticed you and extended his arms, but his face read nothing as you jumped into them.

“good job good job! you did so amazing!”

“nice fushiguro!” yuji nudged his shoulder. “you brought us through!”

“i missed the first two hits.”

he set you back down.

yuji shrugged. “so? it happens. i do it all the time! you made a home run and scored us the league.”

megumi only silently nodded, his face to the ground as you told yuji and your best friend that you would see them in the locker rooms with everybody else.

and once everyone had cleared out from the field, you turned to him.

“hey…” you started. “what’s wrong?”

his eyes remained glued to the dirt.

“i missed the first two hits.”

your shoulders deflated. “you heard what yuji said… it’s okay. it was bound to happen but it’s fine because you fixed it—”

“we were on thin fucking ice today.”

his snippy tone took you by surprise a bit.

“yes… but you made it...” you responded softly. “you all pulled through. especially you.”

he scoffed and shook his head, him finally raising his baggy eyes and looking to the side, pissed.

“i almost cost us the league. that’s what i did.”

“gumi—” you exhaled a frustrated breath. “you literally played like a machine the entire time and had other hits that were amazing? i don’t understand why two little strikes—”

his eyes snapped to yours. “two little strikes?” he shook his head again. “two strikes too fucking many.”

“what is your issue?—”

“my issue is that if i fucked up that third hit it would’ve been all over. we would’ve lost the division, lost the league, and lost the world series, all because i don’t know how to fucking play ball—”

“yes you do! you’re being way too hard on yourself baby you need to take a breather and rest—”

“how many times have you nagged me about that already.” he spat.

you froze.

“nagged?” you repeated softly.

“yes. you’ve told me enough times i get it i need rest, i need sleep, i need this i need that—”

“i’m saying that because look at you!” you motioned with your hands, feeling potential tears prickling at the back of your eyes at the way he was speaking to you. “your under eyes are dark and purple, your eyes are red you look exhausted!”

“and i told you i’m fine!” he raised his voice a bit. “you wouldn’t understand the shit that i have to do for this team the shit i have to pull and i gave them absolute garbage today—”

“oh my god megumi!” you snapped. “your team is a team effort! it’s not just you! you’re not the only one pulling the stops so enough with trying to take on this load and overwork yourself! please you played amazing today everyone was cheering so loud for you and—”

“stop talking.”

you paused.

“just—” he rubbed his tired eyes and turned to the side. “just please stop talking.”

stop… talking?

he struck a chord, and you felt your heart literally break at his words, an aching heavy pit in your chest as you recounted his yelling and snappiness when all you were trying to do was help him.

thats all you’ve ever tried to do for megumi really— help him, support him, and love him. but for him to throw it all back in your face and say you didn’t understand? for you to basically shut up?

tears were slipping past your eyes at this point, and when you felt like megumi finally bothered to look at you in the face, his eyes widened and his shoulders dropped.

“baby—”

“and what about you?”

he stopped. “about me—”

“yes about you. you’re saying i don’t understand anything you’re fucking going through, as if i haven’t followed you through your career since the moment we met and before that, like i haven’t supported you on the sidelines and asked you question after question about your games just so i can fucking understand—”

“no i—”

you cut him off. “and then you’re here— yelling at me, telling me off, and telling me to shut up when i’m the only one fucking standing here with you after the game trying to be there for you?!—”

“baby— fuck i’m sorry okay i didn’t mean—”

you laughed bitterly. “you didn’t mean it. didn’t mean what? to accidentally let it slip that you actually do think i’m a blabbermouth?”

he was taken aback as his eyebrows furrowed, shaking his head desperately. “no— no that’s not what i meant at all y/n i’m sorry. i’ve been so stressed and tired and i’m taking it all out on you right now and— and that’s not okay and not an excuse.”

megumi quickly stepped forward and placed his hands on your face, but you pushed him away, hurt flashing across his eyes as you did so.

“and why didn’t you tell me about the meeting huh? the one with the higher ups last week?”

surprise crossed his face. “how did you—”

“doesn’t matter how i heard it. why didn’t you tell me? do you understand how that makes me feel when i have to find out through someone else and not my own boyfriend?”

he ran a hand through his spiky black hair and sighed exhaustedly.

“i didn’t tell you because i knew you would be upset about it and i didn’t want you to worry—”

“so you just chose to keep it from me that’s real nice.” you spat. “of course i wouldn’t be happy with it they’re stripping you down and exploiting you! how could they say that it’s all on you to bring it home for the world series? do you understand how insane that sounds?”

“i know but i can’t tell them anything i just have to say yes!” he explained.

“you have every right to tell them something! and if you would’ve communicated this with me like you should’ve done, i wouldn’t have let you lose so much sleep over me and maybe you wouldn’t have played the way you think you played, and you wouldn’t be standing here shitting all over me!”

he really struck a chord.

“y/n—”

“bye megumi.”

his breath hitched.

“no— hey don’t do that—”

he scrambled after you as you made your way out of the field, him quickly catching up and tugging you into him with his long arms around your shoulders, bringing your back to his front as he ducked his face down.

“let’s fix it please we need to fix this—”

“i want to be alone right now, megumi.” you mumbled.

god he hated how many times you’ve called him that already tonight, feeling like the biggest asshole to ever grace your precious life.

“no i don’t want you to be upset with me please—”

“we can talk later on the phone.” your tone was lifeless. “i just need to be alone.”

he faltered, feeling gutting pain cascade all over his body as he hesitantly, slowly, slipped his arms away and released you.

“o—okay.”

he watched you walk up the stands and to the exit as you clutched yourself, his eyes catching the back of your jersey reading his last name that sent an immediate pang through his chest, your frame disappearing from his view and leaving him in his stupid thoughts as he snatched his cap off from his head and threw it to the side in frustration.

that night megumi tried to call you but you didn’t pick up, you barely even answering his texts as he wallowed in self pity alone in his apartment.

and you hadn’t stopped crying since the moment your tears hit on the field— hurt and exhausted and guilty as you settled into bed, unable to bring yourself to call him and go through with your word, deciding to text instead.

(you): i’m really tired i’m sorry. i’ll see if i can call you in the morning.

megumi took no time at all to respond.

(gumi <3): can i take you to class tomorrow?

(you): i don’t think that’s a good idea

he swallowed the lump in his throat and fought back the urge to fight it, wanting to respect you and your space.

but you only kept crying.

(gumi <3): okay

(you): goodnight

(gumi <3): goodnight pretty baby

just as you were about to place your phone back on your nightstand, it buzzed again.

(gumi <3): i love you i’m sorry

you sniffled and put your phone away officially, choosing not to respond.

the following week leading up to the league championship game, megumi spent every waking moment trying to make it up to you, trying to fix it, but you only seemed to stay away from him and distance yourself, something that hurt megumi like no other.

you felt like it was your fault he played the way he did that day. if you had been smarter, more mindful, you would’ve noticed that the intensity of his exhaustion was extremely abnormal, and perhaps you could’ve done something about it before it was too late and saved yourself the dreadful fight you had with him.

you hated the way you spoke to him, and you fully convinced yourself that you only served as a distraction for him, opting to keeping your distance as far away as possible so it allowed megumi to get his head focused again and ensure a promised route to the world series— something you had hoped to be there to witness, but deeming his success way more important than your needs at this point in time.

so you stopped going to all of his practices following that day, the fact tormenting megumi as you always went to each and every single one and was there for him without fault— rain or shine, always waiting for him in the locker rooms when he was finished.

but you weren’t there anymore. and each day you weren’t was another day megumi would spend angry and frustrated with himself that he did what he did. he knew your defense mechanism was pushing people away, and your current behavior gave him flashbacks to the time last year when he was falling for you and you kept running away from him, scared— those actions a carbon copy of what’s happening now, except far worse.

and he did that to you. he yelled at you and snapped at you, told you to stop talking for some fucking reason that he still couldn’t find the proper explanation for… and he made you cry. so much. your usual sweet honeyed voice you spoke to him with long gone since that day.

and he missed you. more than anything.

“you stupid—” throw “self absorbed—” throw “asshole—” throw “narcissistic—” throw—

“okay that’s enough that’s enough!”

yuji pulled your best friend back as she chucked towel after towel at megumi following one of their practices, her absolutely fuming.

he took every hit, not bothering to dodge. he deserved it.

“she told me what you did—” she shook herself away from yuji’s grip. “what the hell is the matter with you? how could you yell at her like that on the field? when all she’s ever done is love you—”

“i know.” megumi mumbled, rubbing his eyes. “i know i’m really sorry. i regret it.”

“fuck yeah you should,” she scoffed. “that woman’s been cooped up every day in her room bawling her eyes out over you!”

yuji nodded sadly, and megumi let out a pained breath as he closed his eyes and covered his face with his hands, propping his elbows on his knees, leaning forward.

“fuck me…”

“yeah fuck you—”

“okay! okay. he’s already down let him bleed out.” yuji muttered to her as he rubbed his hands over her arms soothingly, an attempt at calming her down.

he looked at him. “megumi, you and i both know that she understands you were frustrated that day. the both of you. if you just talk to her—”

“you think i haven’t tried?” megumi picked his head up, and the both of them froze at the way his eyes glossed over.

“i’ve— i’ve called her, i’ve texted her, i drove by her house but she’s never there, fuck i even went to her campus at seven in the morning but couldn’t find her.”

he took his cap off and roughly rubbed over his eyes again.

your best friend sighed then after a moment, slowly stepping forward and sitting down next to him on the bench.

“she’ll come around megumi.” she mumbled. “just give her some time. i know it’s hard, but she really really loves you.” she sighed deeply. “she’ll come around.”

megumi nodded solemnly, and yuji stepped forward, patting his shoulder.

“you okay man?”

he nodded again.

missed phone calls, lagging dry texts, and last minute cancellations from you all happened for a week straight.

and when the time finally came for the league championships, megumi wanted nothing more than for you to be there as he stared at his messy fucking locker when prepping for the game— another reminder that you hadn’t been around, and another reminder that you wouldn’t be here tonight to see him, something he completely did not blame you for.

luckily, the league championship game was at their home base once more, and as the crowd got settled to watch, energies heightened as the players all got settled over the field to play ball— megumi shook the nerves from his body as he focused with the game, and you, on his mind like a religion.

and as the game ran on with the team scoring run after run, another win was blatantly obvious for them— megumi entirely unaware of your presence that was watching him the entire time in the stands.

you couldn’t help yourself. you needed to be there to watch him, needed to see him take home another achievement like that, regardless of where you both stood as you watched from just above the v.i.p section, shivering like an idiot because you forgot to bring a jacket after deciding to wear a flowy tube top for the day, but excited for him nonetheless.

you didn’t tell a single soul you were coming, not even your best friend as you just wanted to see megumi again before running off into the shadows of your embarrassing despair, missing him like fucking crazy and nearly sobbing when you saw him walk out on the field at the start, but even more emotional to the fact that they were actually going to move on to the world series by the looks of it.

and the crowd hollered eventually as the speakers blasted megumi’s teams signature song—

finalizing their spot in the world series.

your eyes glowed as you watched his team run up on the field and tackle each other down, literally rolling in the dirt as you giggled to yourself— sighing contently and about to turn and walk out of the stadium to go home when a strong rough hand wrapped around your bare upper arm.

“you’re fushiguro’s girl! aren’t you?”

you snapped your head up and saw someone you recognized as one of megumi’s crew members for the team, and you relaxed, trusting him.

“oh! yeah i am!”

“sweet! i just got hired to be on the crew a couple of weeks ago.”

“that’s great!” you answered politely, smiling. “how is—”

“listen i was wondering if i could get any tickets to the world series from you?”

what.

“um—” your eyes darted around awkwardly. “for— for the world series?—”

“yeah! i took this job so i could get some but apparently i need to be working longer than three weeks. dumb.”

you gnawed at the inside of your cheek as your eyes drifted downward to your arm.

he still hadn’t let go.

“oh i’m sorry.” you mumbled. “i could— i could maybe get you one? one for sure!”

he shook his head. “shit sorry, i need like five.”

“five?!” you gawked. “i can’t get you five i’m really sorry… i can only maybe get you one.”

his eyes narrowed. “why not? you’re fushiguro’s girl are you not?”

“yes but what does that have to do with me getting you tickets to the world series?” you spoke nervously, trying to put on a brave front as his height literally towered over you.

“why don’t you ask him for tickets? he’s literally megumi fushiguro i’m sure he can cough up some—”

you scoffed.

“i’m not gonna ask him anything for you just because you want to use me to get tick—”

“so then what the fuck are you with him for?” his grip tightened around your arm as he pulled you a little, and you winced.

“let go of me!—”

megumi considered himself a relatively calm person throughout his life.

he knew he had his explosive rude moments here and there, him also accidentally offending people unknowingly with his words, but that behavior only stayed on the field as it pertained to the game at hand or with baseball itself, his life outside of that a treasured tranquil one as he spent his days with you and only you, something he looked forward to every waking moment since the day he met you.

but as he heard your little voice through the yelling of the crowd, instantly recognizing it and picking up on its distressed demeanor— his body did a full one-eighty as his eyes frantically searched for you through the mass of people.

and once he did spot you? your breathtaking little self being manhandled by some fucking moron who had his hand around your upper arm?

he didn’t consider himself a relatively calm person anymore.

megumi quickly snatched his cap off and passed it to a confused yuji and your best friend, sprinting at the speed of light across the field and to the fence of the v.i.p. section before hoisting himself up and climbing, jumping over once he reached the top and landing on the stands— him running up a few steps before finally reaching you and tearing the guy off.

“get the fuck off.”

he gently pushed you behind him, his chest heaving.

“the shit are you doing hurting her arm like that for huh?!” megumi stepped forward.

“hey! hey i’m sorry man i— i didn’t know i was hurting her—”

“sure you fucking did she was literally telling you to let go and you were throwing her around like—”

“megumi please—”

“are you part of the crew?”

“y—yeah?”

“you’re gone. you’re fired you’re—”

“wait i’m sorry! i was just trying to get tickets to the world series—”

megumi’s eyes blew open, wild and infuriated.

“that’s why you were grabbing her like that? you were harrassing her for some fucking ticke— you know what—”

megumi stepped forward before you could stop him as he reeled his fist back and knocked him straight in the jaw, the guy stumbling back a bit and the crowd gasping before megumi spun around and grabbed your legs, throwing you over his shoulder.

“get the fuck out of my way.”

the small crowd that stuck around for the altercation parted with no questions asked, his long legs striding over across the exit and to the teams now vacant locker room— kicking the door open before gently setting you down on your feet.

he ran his hands over your soft hair frantically as he grabbed your cheeks and checked you over, your teary doe eyes breaking him apart.

“hey are you okay? are you fine?”

megumi let go of your face and gently lifted your upper arm, his eyes hardening at the purple forming bruise from that dickwads hand.

“he’s gone he’s gone—”

you lunged and wrapped your arms around his waist tightly as he started to charge back out, pulling him back.

“no! stop it’s okay you already hit him i think he got the message.” you mumbled, letting him go.

megumi turned to you then, his eyes softening over your timid sad frame as you played with your fingers, gaze down.

“y/n.”

“hm?”

he frowned.

“can you please look at me.”

you listened reluctantly and peered up at him.

he exhaled. “baby i— i’m sorry. i’m so fucking sorry for everything that i said to you that night. i meant none of it. nothing. i was just angry at myself and stressed and stupid and i hate that i talked to you like that and took it out on you. you didn’t deserve that at all.”

you hurriedly wiped your silent tears— nodding, but saying nothing.

he leaned down to look at you at eye level.

“are you okay?”

you nodded again and sniffled.

“talk baby.” he pleaded with you gently, eyes sad. “tell me, please.”

you cowered a little as you finally broke into tiny sobs, your hands hovering over your face to hide your tears as he placed his big hands on your upper arms, megumi feeling like he just got run over by an entire military tank at the sight of you crying because of him.

“i—i’m sorry i yelled at you—” you hiccuped. “i was so mean and i f—feel really bad—”

“baby why are you apologizing?” he shook his head. “it’s me it’s all me i’m the one who was mean to you—”

“no but—” you sniffled. “you were just stressed from the game like you said and that’s fine i should’ve been more aware. i didn’t mean to upset you with me talking—”

“oh pretty baby..” he breathed out, agonizingly, megumi literally beating himself up. “remember when i said one time you were too nice for your own good?”

you nodded.

“this is one of those moments. you should be yelling at me and throwing things at me like your best friend did.”

your eyebrows furrowed as you sniffled. “she— she did?”

“she did.” he nodded. “rightfully so.”

you giggled a little, and he smiled softly.

“i’m sorry i distanced myself the way i did…” you mumbled, a waterfall of tears coming down again. “i just thought that i was a distraction and— and i wanted you to focus.”

“a distraction?” he murmured. “y/n you are never a distraction.”

“no but at the end of the day i was…” you sobbed. “you need to be there for your team you have—“ hic! “you have responsibilities and i don’t want you to put me above that and— and keep hanging out with me when you have so much to do—”

“something you need to understand is that i’m replaceable.” he cut you off, tone firm. “the minute they find some other dude that’s way better than me and quicker than me and they draft his ass over to the team? they are going to replace me faster than you will ever think. that’s just the way jobs are. i’m replaceable no matter how much you wanna think it’s not true.”

he shook his head, his face pained. “but you are not. you’re not fucking replaceable there is no other you. you are my life now baby. yes my career is a priority, but so are you, and i would rather them replace me than lose you entirely.”

he wiped the tears from your cheeks, your doe eyes wide.

“i appreciate that you care so much and you support me and that you want me to devote all of my time to only this— you’re an angel on earth for all of that… but as your man i’m telling you that all of my time is devoted to you now, not just baseball.”

you wrapped your arms around his neck and tugged him closer to you, tight, him immediately reciprocating and snaking his arms around your waist.

he could finally breathe.

“do you understand?” he murmured softly, rubbing his hands over your back soothingly.

you nodded.

“but you can’t— wear yourself out like you did okay?” you sniffled. “you can’t let them push you and tire you out… and please listen when we say for you to rest…”

“i know i’m sorry. i’ll listen next time baby i promise.”

“i get you trying to improve for yourself and push your limits… but— but there’s a difference between wanting to better your play and straight up wearing yourself down.”

you pulled back a little to look at him, wiping your tears and hiccuping. “and i worry man… i worry so much because i—“ hic! “i love you and i always think about if you’re eating right or— or getting enough sleep—”

his heart literally melted as he felt the remains of it ooze and spread all over his body and insides, your pure sweet concerns tugging at him and turning him into absolute putty before you.

he tightened his grip around your waist and lifted you, gently rocking your bodies as you sniffled and cried, his eyes screwed shut and feeling every possible emotion a human being could ever feel… but feeling love most of all.

love for you. love for who you are.

megumi kissed your wet cheek delicately and let his lips linger there as he spoke.

“i’m in love with you…” he murmured. “i hope you know that.”

your heart fluttered and you nodded, a little smile playing at your face.

“i’m in love with you too gumi.” you hummed, pressing a sweet kiss of your own to his cheek.

he set you back down and cupped your cheeks, slowly leaning in and pressing light tender kisses to your lips, his mouth completely savoring over the taste of yours as he had been deprived of them for a freaking week— feeling like his dried up soul had been rejuvenated and made anew.

and you felt the same way… because you deepened the kiss, picked up the pace, pulled him closer until his chest was flush against yours and your hot breaths were mixed together in a misty cloud, megumi breathing heavily through his nose as he ran his needy desperate hands over your delicious body.

he trailed wet open mouthed kisses on your cheek, jaw, and all the way down to the side of your exposed neck, his hand supporting the other side as he feverishly licked a slow long stripe of spit up your neck with his rough tongue, your fists gripping the sides of his jersey as he nibbled and bit, his lips finally coming to enclose and suck around a certain spot as your breath hitched at how frenzied and sloppy he was being, drool practically running down your neck as he ravished, bit, and sucked over multiple areas.

you shoved your hands down his pants suddenly, and he choked in surprise as his hips thrusted forward, your fingers pumping and palming his hardened cock slowly as his breath shuddered against your neck.

“baby...” he murmured.

“hm?”

“how would you feel if i turned on the shower and fucked my cock in your pretty little cunt for a bit in there huh?…”

a needy whimper slipped past your lips against his ear, and he grew weak.

“is that okay—”

“more than okay—”

you squealed as he wasted no time in picking you up again and walking over to the showers, the both of you clumsily tearing off your clothes as megumi fumbled with the shower switch until luke warm water spritzed from above— entrapping the both of you in a humid trance as megumi squeezed your bare thighs and ushered you to jump, you doing so immediately and wrapping your legs around his waist.

he stepped in and literally slammed the shower door shut, the two of you giggling a little as the soothing water washed over your panting bodies, the sight of his handsome bright face making your cheeks flush and bury your face in his neck in response.

he chuckled softly, gently setting your back against the wet tile wall before kissing you again and again, his mouth messy against your puffy lips as he tried to drink up all that you gave him, the tip of his cock slipping past your folds and brushing against your swollen clit— each time making you squeak and jump.

you didn’t care about anything, your mind reeling and just wanting megumi’s dick inside of you as soon as possible, knowing that you’d never really had sex before and literally not giving a single shit because it was him— someone you trusted the most out of anyone in your life, and someone you wanted to give your all to no matter the circumstance.

he lined his fat tip then against your drooling hole.

“wait! wait the door—“ you gripped his shoulders for support. “the door did you lock it?”

“nope.”

megumi pushed his cock in slowly and gently, your choked gasps and moans echoing inside the shower as his head fell to rest in the crook of your hickey covered neck, him groaning in ecstasy as your gummy warm pussy strangled his dick to the tightest degree, already previously so wet and gushy that it thankfully barely hurt you at all as he bottomed out.

“fuuuckk— you’re warm.” he murmured, gripping your hips like a vice and softly caressing his thumb against your slippery skin to soothe you— hoping (but not really), you’d maybe release the clutch your pussy had on his dick to stop him from already shooting his cum all over your insides like a loser.

he slowly drew his hips back and fucked into you again, you jolting at the force as you fumbled to keep your grip steady on his shoulders, his cock fucking thick and massive as his little curve poked deliciously at your cervix, him gradually increasing his pace as you shuddered over the quick pat pat pat’s echoing through the walls.

“g—gumiii..” you whined.

“what baby?” he mumbled breathlessly, his eyes glued to where his dick connected with your hole as it slipped in and out lewdly, your pussy literally squelching and screaming for him with your bouncing tits in his face that made him clench his jaw in self restraint— trying his hardest not to fucking ram into you like nothing and take you.

“y—you’re biigg!” you hiccuped, your little gasps of breath enticing droplets of cum to leak out of his tip and ooze out of your little wet folds, megumi moaning at your words.

“yeah?” pat pat pat— “s’too much for you baby?”

he picked up the pace, on purpose as he meanly bounced you on his cock and shot his hips up against your pussy, his big heavy balls slapping against your ass and making your eyes fucking cross at the feeling.

“tell me you love me.” he panted. “now.”

“i—“ hic! “i love you—”

megumi grabbed your cheeks with his fingers and mushed them together, grinning deviously at the way your pouty lips pushed out cutely.

“how much.”

“s—so- ah!— so much gumi—”

“more— shit!” he choked, a particular squeeze from your abused cunt almost making him finish. “m— more than anything?”

slap slap slap—

“y—yes!—” you could barely even speak due to the erotic hold he had on your face. “i love you i love you i love—”

you squealed as he let go of your face, gave into his desires and rammed into you, both hands on your bruised hips as he gave your pussy no room to breathe with how fast he was shoving his fat cock inside of you, pounding and pummeling into your guts as your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you felt your release build up in your tummy.

“why were you asking me about the door earlier huh?” he panted. “you don’t want anyone to see how much of a” thrust! “slut you are? your legs spread for me like this and your pretty pussy creaming on my dick?”

you whined and moaned so fucking loudly, it ringing through megumi’s ears like a wicked symphony.

he pinched your nipple when you didn’t respond.

“answer me.”

thrust thrust thrust—

“n—no i didn’t!”

“no?”

he gripped your neck and sloppily ran his mouth over yours, feeling his cum on the brink of shooting out.

“m’gonna cum inside.”

“in— mmphf!— inside?”

“you don’t want it?” he let go of your neck. “cause i won’t give it to you if you don’t want it—”

“i do i do!” you scrambled and cupped his cheeks, bringing his lips back in and kissing him messily.

“give it to me gumi please!—“ hic! “eeekkk!”

hot sticky cum pumped out of his tip and into your gushy walls, your high making your toes curl as you creamed around his heavy cock feverishly, megumi’s entire body fucking shivering at the way your pussy felt like it was entirely made and molded for him.

he softly pumped himself inside and out of you, his mouth hung open in a daze as he watched his white cum slide out of your pretty hole and over his still connected dick, gently easing out after a minute and carefully setting you back down— not completely though, as he knew you’d be sore as he leaned most if not all of your body weight against him.

you held each other in a tight embrace then, your heavy breaths trying to find its normal rhythm as the warm water continued to cascade down your bodies, comfortingly.

“why don’t we have sex more often...” you mumbled.

he laughed softly, pecking the side of your head. “i was waiting for you to tell me baby. i didn’t want to pressure you.”

“i was waiting for you to tell me.” you emphasized. “i didn’t want to jump on you and just violate you—”

megumi’s chest vibrated as he laughed again, a cute boyish one that made you bite your lip.

“violate me?” he murmured, an amused smile on his face. “i’d want you to.”

“yeah?” you tilted your head, and his cheeks grew hot.

“yeah.”

finally you and megumi were in sync again, going back into each other’s routines as if the week long hiccup never happened, the both of you officially unraveling the aching knots in your chests that you hauled for seven tormenting days straight— together and attached to the hip once again as he started picking you up for your seven am classes every morning like before, you going to his practices straight after, and spending your hours sleeping in his dark cozy room this time around, snoring your little life away so megumi could recover.

and eventually, the world series arrived.

“my camera! my camera! my digital one did i bring it?!”

you flipped your purse upside down and dumped all of your things on the floor— your lip combo, compact mirror, snacks, random receipts, and small perfume bottle rolling around on the ground until your digital camera was finally in view.

your best friend cackled as she crouched down and helped you pick up your things. “you were taking pictures up megumi’s nose on the two hour drive over here yes you brought it—”

“i know i forgot i’m so nervous what if they lose what if someone fumbles what if—”

you both stood as you rambled on and she placed both of her hands on your shoulders, shaking you. “calm down! they’ll be fine! win or lose they still made it to the world series!”

the crowd roared much like the past two games, except much heavier, louder, more drilling as the music drummed through your body, the air windy but refreshing, and high pitched whistles echoing from around the stadium as everyone anticipated for the biggest game of the season.

you had lost count how many different news stations were here broadcasting the game, how many reporters you saw scrambling across the field trying to interview certain players— you too busy taking pictures of every single little thing and the both of you reapplying your lip liners over a million fucking times— even flagging down a crew member so you could take a picture with just your best friend, your backs to the camera showcasing the last names of your boyfriend’s on your jersey’s.

and when the game officially commenced and the players all went out on the field— megumi and his team did what they always do best, taking control of the scoreboard and earning runs like chump change as they worked professionally to take the trophy home, you constantly snapping pictures of megumi that your digital camera ran out of fucking storage before you even got the shot that you wanted.

eventually after a while of playing, it was megumi’s turn to hit.

“fuck! record for me please record! my camera ran out of storage oh my god use my phone please i love you—”

your best friend laughed as she took your phone from you and did what you asked, your hands on the railing and leaning over it as you anxiously watched him walk up to home plate and take position.

but instead of doing his usual faux swings and repositioned footing, megumi stepped to the side and turned his bat downward, you unable to tell what he was doing as his frame was blocking, his arm moving in various directions before he stepped back again on the home plate and repositioned himself.

your eyes trailed to the ground.

megumi had carved your initials in the dirt.

your girl friend gasped and cooed. “y/nnn!”

as megumi now did his faux swings, your bottom lip only wobbled as your eyes stayed trained to the carvings in the dirt, your heart skipping a thousand beats per minute as the thought of megumi thinking about you out there during one of the most important nights of his life, made you question repeatedly how you ever landed a man like him when all you do is talk and cry.

hit!

your eyes snapped up and you quickly wiped the corners of your eyes, megumi already running across the first two bases as the crowd roared.

“bring it home fushiguro!”

several of his teammates were cheering him on from the dugout, megumi running four runs with just one fucking hit?—

a grand slam.

and suddenly you were taken back to the day you noticed megumi for the first time, just like now with your doe eyes wide and cheeks pink, recognizing the only piece of baseball terminology you knew besides a home run.

except then he was just a stranger you were hopelessly in love with that knew how to play ball like no other.

now though, he’s a man you couldn’t ever imagine your life without. and you didn’t want to.

so as the game reached nine innings, megumi’s team running on the field in a bundle of absolute tears and yells and hollers that they won the world fucking series, all clustering together as they hoisted several players up on their shoulders, including megumi—

you and your best friend instantly booked it down there in a fit of tears.

you had no time to get your personal belongings together as you sprinted across the field like your life fucking depended on it towards megumi— him being put down by his teammates and him frantically looking around after until he spotted you, the brightest smile spreading across his face as he chucked his cap to the side and opened his arms out wide for you.

you jumped in and he spun you around, holding you tight as the screaming crowd surrounding you drowned itself out as you cried into megumi’s neck.

he pulled back, panting.

“did you see how i did a grand slam?”

you nodded rapidly.

“i did it because i knew its the only thing you would recognize!” he yelled over the noise. “so you would feel included when we won!”

oh my god.

he still remembered when you told him that?

“guummiii! how did you even calculate that?!” you cried harder, and he laughed as he spread tiny kisses all over your teary face, his eyes glimmering with absolute unadulterated happiness and bliss, the reality of having the two things he wanted most in life settling into his mind.

megumi didn’t really have a stance on religion— whether the factor is real or not something he didn’t really care about nor mind as he simply just chose to live.

but as he held you on the field, you crying for him and embracing him the way that you were, kissing him the way that you were, megumi only wanted to be covered in your favor. megumi only wanted to devote his entire life to you.

megumi only wanted to believe in you.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

want more? you can find my mlb!megumi fushiguro masterlist here!

taglist!! <33 (THANK YOU THANK YOU!):

@cupcaketeddybehr @soobiary @roachfun @waterfal-ling @saebaey @hiraethwa @luvvmae @cake-with-the-cream @pixie-dix @vividl3ss

[sttoru]

⠀ 𝝑𝑒 ⠀⠀ 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒. bragging about your oh-so-perfect boyfriend to your friends certainly has its (welcomed) consequences. . .

tags. older bf!gojo satoru x female reader. fluff & smut. p in v -> unprotected. missionary. sweet but also nasty and condescending. creampie. body worship. size difference / - kink. nicknames ‘(little) princess, baby’. name calling once. not proof read bcs im sleepy. wc. 2k+

“right! he’s so thoughtful,” you sigh dreamily as you chat with your friends over the phone. you’re laying on satoru’s bed, kicking your feet up while you remove your make-up. of course, you had to call your girls to tell them all about the little date you just had with your boyfriend.

satoru’s in the shower, so you’re taking the time to relive the experience.

“here she goes again y’all,” one of your friends sighs dramatically, to which the others follow with giggles of their own. they know that you can go on and on about your partner. they’ve heard all of it before.

you grin and roll your eyes, rubbing the cleansing wipe over your lips, removing the light pink gloss you had on. you’re all giddy as you recall what satoru has done and given to you this evening. you’ve been pampered—spoiled rotten.

“hey! don’t blame me,” you retort with a chuckle. your friends laugh and urge you to go on since they’re only joking. the stories you tell are always either adorable or heartwarming, and thus they’re happy to listen. plus, debriefing you on your love life is free entertainment.

it’s not unusual for you to stray from the main story. you ramble about the restaurant you’ve visited, the pretty green scenery you’ve walked past, the museum you’ve visited, the way satoru paid for everything and how he made sure to pick activities you’re interested.

you get an occasional ‘aww’ or ‘cuteee’ when you mention your boyfriend’s loving gestures. from the enormous bouquet of flowers he’s gotten you, to the fact that he carried you back into his apartment the moment you told him your feet were hurting.

walking in heels wasn’t the smart move you thought it was, though luckily you had a thoughtful lover by your side.

“he’s just so handsome ‘n stuff. god—“ you squeal, not even bothering to dampen your excitement. you hide your face behind your hands for a split second, gaining a few fan girling squeaks from your friends as well. they’re happy that you’re being treated like deserved.

you don’t hear the door of the bedroom open since you’re too busy gushing about satoru. you’re focused on your small pocket mirror, careful not to forget a spot on your face. you notice that your friends have gone quiet, but you don’t question it.

“his gentle personality is honestly such a turn-on,” you mumble as you rub off the concealer from under your eyes, “and his subtle yet possessive touches? phew, don’t get me started.” you continue to babble on about how hot satoru is when he gets mad, unable to point out a flaw.

you’re about to comment on your friends’ sudden silence when a hand lands on your shoulder. you freeze and finally make eye contact with no one other than satoru—hovering over you from behind. he’s smiling down at you and mumbles a quick, ‘hey, baby’, before kissing your forehead.

you try to explain the situation, yet have no idea where to start. you can hear a friend of yours snickering and another faintly whisper an ‘oh, girl. . .’

before you have the ability to get another word out, satoru cuts you off, waving at your front camera for a second. his smile reaches his eyes and his dimples show;

“hey ladies, mind if i steal my girl from you?” satoru asks as he puts an arm around you. he places his cheek against yours, awaiting an answer. your friends are left speechless at the sudden turn of events.

the white-haired man appears extremely good on screen. he’s basically blessing them with his handsome looks. the towel hanging over his head indicates that he just came out of a fresh shower. there’s a visible vein running down his neck—nearly bulging out of the skin—as if satoru’s holding himself back.

once your friends snap out of their daze, they greet satoru and nod, exchanging quick ‘see you later’s. your boyfriend thanks them with another one of his charming smiles. he waves at the camera again, “bye bye, thank you.”

the call ends and the bedroom falls quiet. you stare at your screen which fades to black, completely dumbfounded. you quickly sit up—your mind a chaotic mess full of thoughts.

“satoru, i uhm, i didn’t know—“ you attempt to form an explanation, though you realise that it’s likely futile. satoru’s probably heard every word that left your mouth. you look up at him, your voice a quiet whisper, “how much did you hear?”

the sorcerer grins. he’s so enamored with you; everything you do is adorable. he grabs your hands and holds then into his larger ones—thumbs gently rubbing your skin. he pulls them up to his lips so he could place chaste kisses on your knuckles.

“everything, princess,” satoru hums, rotating your hands to place kisses on the inside of your wrists. there’s a subtle blush on his cheeks that even reaches his ears. no matter how calm and collected he may seem, he’s still but a complete sucker to your love, “talking about me to your little friends, hm? how cute.”

a shiver runs down your spine. you feel your tummy turn as you’re slowly guided onto your back. multiple kisses cover your body—from head to toe—like a canvas getting painted on. satoru’s taking his sweet time, admiring the art that’s your physique.

every piece of clothing that comes off is a step closer to the grande revelation. the masterpiece that is you. moving from one empty spot - filling it with his kisses - to another. sighs of content leave your lover’s mouth with each reveal, as if he hasn’t seen the sight of your naked body before.

“does this turn you on, baby? my ‘subtle touches’?” satoru mutters against your breasts, remembering your earlier words. his blue eyes stare up at you through his white lashes. not wearing his blindfold may overstimulate him due to his abilities, but he’ll risk anything if it’s to admire you the best he can.

he chuckles when you nod. your boyfriend kisses your hard nipples—taking his time to swirl his tongue around both of them just to feel your back arch off the mattress. your hands holding onto him for life is extremely thrilling. “it turns me on too,” satoru confesses quietly. his slender fingers reach the hem of your panties, “you turn me on so fuckin’ much.”

your breath hitches when your underwear gets tossed somewhere across the room. you’re dripping, obviously. there’s no way you couldn’t get turned on by the way satoru’s been worshipping your entire being.

you can also see the effect you have on him; he’s sweating. the vein on his neck seems to grow more visible when your cunt is revealed to him.

“there she is,” satoru grins in satisfaction. he seems to be in a daze for a second before he regains composure. he looks at you for a quick check, needing to know if he has your consent before he continues. the moment you nod, your lover separates your legs.

you sniff and try to hide your embarrassed expression behind a hand. satoru’s quick to pin your wrist above your head so you wouldn’t have the chance to do any of that. “keep your eyes on me, yeah?” he leans in to place a swift kiss on your lips.

“mhm,” you nod after returning the peck. the white-haired man utters a small ‘thank you’ and undoes his sweatpants with his free hand. he fumbles with his boxers—unable to keep himself from trembling in pleasure from the view alone.

your small body underneath him is a sight he’ll never get tired of. that face of yours morphing into one of pleasure whenever you’re intimate is one of his favorite things to witness. thus why the missionary is his go to position.

“c’mon,” satoru kisses your cheek as he manages to pull his erected cock out of his underwear. it’s standing tall, the tip pointing right at the place it wants to be buried at—your wet, warm and inviting pussy, “you were so loud when talking with y’r friends ‘n now you’ve gone quiet on me.”

satoru pouts, “it’s not fair. i wanna hear my princess too.”

you almost choke on your spit because of how whiny yet demanding satoru sounds. you feel his fingers intertwine with yours, firmly holding your hand down above your head. you’re still flustered by the entire situation. you open your mouth as tears gather in your eyes, “i’m sorry, i’m jus— ngh!”

you can’t even get your words out. the lewd feeling of satoru rubbing his tip between your folds completely catches you off guard. he grins, as if he planned on doing that the moment you tried to speak. he’s such a tease.

“shh, shh, i know,” satoru coos mockingly, acting like he’s not doing it on purpose. you can’t blame the man; he’s been rock hard ever since he heard you praise him so openly through the phone. your lovely voice speaking so highly of him was driving him nuts.

you’re so appreciative for all he’s doing and it makes the sorcerer want to spoil you even more. to give you the love and affection you deserve because of how precious you are—even if you don’t realise it.

he wants to give you more. more, more, more.

without thinking, satoru pushes his cock right through your tight cunt. he shudders at the sight of your poor, small pussy struggling to take his fat dick. he can’t hurt you, he knows. especially with the amount of times the bulbous head of his cock nearly bruised your cervix.

though, it’s difficult not to go all out. you’re so accepting of everything he does—satoru can see that by the way your eyes stare at him. it’s all love. the light reflecting in your pupils makes them sparkle beautifully. he cusses under his breath, “y’re so pretty, baby. fuck, fuck, fuck. y’re making it so hard.”

satoru tries his best not to plunge his cock all the way to the hilt. he reaches halfway with each thrust, the thwacking sound increasing by the second. your legs automatically wrap around his waist and your fingers squeeze his.

“toruuu, fmhh, so big,” you babble, the drool forming in the corners of your lips threatening to drip down your chin. each soft yet firm thrust seems to resonate within you, evoking a sense of pleasurable contentment.

satoru lets out a haughty chuckle at the sight of you going cockdrunk already. he’s still trying to hold his urges back by focusing on your satisfaction alone. “i’ll give you something else to brag ‘bout to y’r friends,” he pants with a confident smirk, kissing your jawline as he ruts into you,

you’re embarrassed by your current predicament. despite that, you find yourself enjoying every consequence that your actions have caused. your moans echo in satoru’s ears, each slap of your bodies connecting sounding twice as loud.

his thick cock is stretching you out so well. your cunt is working overtime to make space for every inch. your boyfriend gently bites your bottom lip, his breath faltering when you clench around him in response.

“‘re ya gonna tell them?” satoru asks through a guttural moan. his hips move non-stop, aiming to please you until you lose your mind. he’ll live up to the expectations set no matter what. he kisses the swell of your breasts, “are ya gonna tell ‘em how you let your ‘lovely’ boyfriend fuck you like this? how y’re a complete slut for his cock?”

you don’t know how to react to his dirty talk. it’s getting you wetter, that’s for sure. your thighs shake around his waist and your tummy feels like it’s doing flips. satoru doesn’t leave it there, “gonna tell them about how good i fill you up, yeah? dirty little girl telling all her friends about our private life, tsk tsk.”

it’s overwhelming. the sudden increase in dirty talk makes you want to cum on spot. you feel like you’re being degraded, however satoru’s touches make you feel appreciated and loved. his hand holding yours above your head never leaves you—a sign that this is still him making love to you.

“am—am not gonna,” you hiccup. the words simply roll of your tongue without much thought. you’re mindlessly responding to your lover. “am not gonna tell them anything,” you continue before cutting yourself off with a string of whiny moans when satoru plays with your clit.

satoru shakes his head, increasing the pressure and speed in which he’s pumping into you. he loves the view of you being so helpless—succumbing to the pleasure he’s granting you. “sureeee, i believe you,” your boyfriend snickers and pushes his pulsing cock in further. his tone is soft but condescending, “i’ll trust my little princess to keep her mouth shut f’me.”

you’re getting so close. your nails dig into his skin and your noises get louder. you’re right on the edge of euphoria. the clit stimulation along with the feeling of being filled to the brim is enough to make you see stars.

satoru nods at your desperate whimpers that alarm him that you’re close to climax. “i got you, baby. cum f’me—i got you,” he places sloppy kisses all over your face and rams his cock in and out of you in a stronger rhythm. there’s nothing satoru wants to do in this world more than to flood your insides with his cum.

his cock doesn’t stop prodding at your sweet spots and it’s making you approach that peak; the peak of pleasure that’s going to push you over the edge. you hold tightly onto your lover and he doesn’t hesitate to return the embrace. “it’s okay, do it f’me,” satoru encourages you once again through a husky whisper.

you’re thankful that you have such an attentive partner. he can go from teasing you to comforting you and it’s the most reassuring thing ever. you’ve never had a man hold you so intimately while he’s balls deep into you.

“g’nna cum,” a strangled moan leaves your throat when you try to speak. your chests are pressed together and your heartbeats match—like the perfect pair you are. satoru feels his balls clench with an aching feeling, needing to release every last drop they have stored into your tiny cunt.

just thinking about the way you were bragging about him again, is enough. “take it—fuuuckk—take it all, baby,” the white-haired man takes a deep breath in and can’t help but bury his entire dick inside of you, that one last thrust making you yelp.

you reach your climaxes at the exact same time. your fluids mix as you feel satoru’s thick spurts of cum coat your insides a sticky white. your body spasms and your boyfriend instantly soothes you by rubbing your back. his own legs are trembling a little, but you’re far more important.

you don’t utter a word and simply focus on regaining your energy. all that you can say are incoherent babbles. “easy,” satoru kisses the corners of your eyes and relishes in the fact that he’s fucked you full of his cum. it’s a reminder of just how much he loves you.

a few encouraging words and hugs later and you’ve calmed down. you don’t fully grasp the reality of the situation until the adrenaline and other hormones drop down to a normal level.

you’re suddenly reminded by your previous words and this time, you succeed in hiding your face into the crook of satoru’s neck.

it’s certain that he’s greatly enjoyed overhearing you talk about him to your friends, but it’s still a somewhat embarrassing memory you wish to forget. “not a word, please. j-jus act like you haven’t heard anything,” you mumble quietly now that you’ve come down from your high.

satoru laughs softly. he can’t help but tease you after that—it’s a given. you’re still so caught up on what happened and it’s endearing.

however, satoru wouldn’t be him if he didn’t tease you about your little comments. without pulling out, he tilts his head back and stares down at you with a faint grin, “do i have to act like i haven’t fucked you silly just now too?”

“satoru!”

[wonustars]

how do i- how- i-

coming back to the text post cuz i hit the 30 tag limit but i could go on about this story for hours it’s not even funny. there’s so many things i just want to unpack here but ill refrain because im severely sleep deprived and i should probably get sleep before i go to work . but jess, this was amazing, thank you for writing this i absolutely loved it (as a huge wonwoorideul). i’m gonna listen to take a chance w me by niki and call it a night because im going to need 3-5 business days to recover from this masterpiece. thank u for letting me read this for free i’m so happy now 💕

edit: there are many many typos pls jus pretend u can decipher my anna language 😭😭🫶

34.6037° S, 58.3816° W | jww

(your latest assignment has you jetting off to argentina hoping to finally catch the infamous art thief that's escaped your agency one too many times already. you know what's at stake if you lose your focus. enter the beautiful stranger that has you questioning everything you know.)

pairing: jeon wonwoo x f.reader genre: strangers to lovers, (kinda, v light) enemies to lovers | smut, fluff, angst rating: explicit, minors DNI word count: ~22.8k (idk what happened) warnings: art thief!wonwoo, secret agent!reader, brief mentions of death & bloody past (again, reader is a secret agent), mentions of past violence, mentions of weapons, food, drinking, VERY ambiguous ending smut warnings: multiple smut scenes, multiple positions, unprotected sex (don't do this), slightly rough sex, mild dom!wonwoo?, fingering, oral sex, choking, spanking, multiple orgasms, squirting, light marking, semi-public sex, food play (whipped cream, chocolate), i think that's it

a/n: this is for @svthub's world tour collab (check out the other fics here). i had so much fun writing this even if it got away from me a bit. thanks to @effortandmore for lending me her art brain. thanks to @highvern for constantly listening to me and @multi-kpop-fanfics for fit inspo. and as always, thank you to my bby @wongyuseokie for the banner & divider.

tag list: @wonustars, @minisugakoobies, @crepecakeu, @tinyelfperson, @dokyeomkyeom, @amoryeonjun, @miriamxsworld, @hongrizoon, @gyuminusone, @aaniag, @naajaeminsgf, @straykidswhoo789, @kimseokgen, @beomesbabe, @haolistic, @vanishingboots, @babybae-shisui, @pyeonghongrie-main, @nuttywastelandmentality, @writingbarnes, @tomodachiii, @gyuhao365, @jjin-kun, @sdoulc, @wonwootakemyheart, @divinityyyy, @nightshadeinmoonlight, @imma-queencard, @jelly-n

“We’ll be landing in about 45 minutes, according to the pilot,” a voice says, interrupting your laser-like focus.

You look up from your tablet and blink at him for a second. It takes you a moment or two to register he’s even standing there. Another moment to register what he actually said to you a second ago. In the meantime, you switch the program open on your tablet.

“Oh, thanks,” you say in response. 

He sits down in the seat opposite you and fixes you with a smile. “Must be a good book, you’ve barely looked up for the entire flight.” 

“Guilty,” you say with a practiced smile. 

Chan, you think that’s his name, seems nice enough. A little overeager and too ready to agree to something when his bosses tell him what to do. There’s that real thirst to prove himself. But, at least from what you hear, he’s got a bright future. He’s done well with what he’s been given so far, which are increasingly difficult assignments. You can see why. He’s easy on the eyes and he’s got that soft smile down. The kind of unassuming smile that makes people want to trust him. If he can keep it up, he’ll go far. 

“Thanks again for letting me catch a ride,” you say to fill some of the space between you. 

Chan only shrugs. “Any friend of Mr. Choi’s is always welcome. Plus, nobody really says no when the boss says something.”

A lesser person would have probably laughed at that. Hearing him referred to as Mr. Choi and the boss is a little comical to you. Not that it isn’t true because he is definitely Chan’s boss. It’s just, well, it’s a little more complicated than that. 

“Honestly I don’t really even understand what Cheol does,” you lie and turn on a little bit of the charm. It’s always good to practice on people that are trained to be charming themselves. 

“Do you call him that?” Chan wonders.

“Call him what? Cheol?” you ask and Chan nods, eyes a little wide. It catches him just off guard enough. “Yeah, but I’ve known him for years. What do you call him?”

“Sir, usually,” Chan answers too quickly. You can’t fully fight the smile that answer brings to your lips. “Glad to see I entertained you.” 

“He’s not nearly as bad as I’m sure he seems at work,” you say like you’re sharing a secret.

The truth is that you’ve been hearing about this new agent that Seungcheol is personally training for over a year now. So, you know that eventually, you’re going to all be laughing at this conversation in hindsight and he’ll also be calling his boss Cheol. For now, though, things are a little bit different. 

“He mentioned that you were heading down to do some research?” he asks and you nod. 

This part has always been a little tedious to you, the part where you come up with a cover story that you even have to feed to other people within the same organization. It’s been this way for your entire career. You were recruited at 18 years old and went through special training along with obtaining a degree. The Agency had two divisions, but you only ever learned about the second one if you were recruited to work there. It was that second division you joined right away. 

Training had been grueling. If it wasn’t some kind of physical endurance training, it was sitting in a windowless room studying history or a foreign language. Or it was combat training with whatever weapon was on deck that day. Or working to blend into any situation. You quickly learned that did not mean not being memorable. At least not in every situation. Sometimes that meant looking at ease in your surroundings even if eyes were on you. Thankfully, the charm seemed to come naturally to you and that was one less thing you had to worry about learning. 

The Agency officially works in maintaining international relationships between countries. That can mean a number of different things. Sometimes it involves an agent or team heading out to a location as official representatives. They can help with negotiation, security concerns, smoothing out issues, anything really. Unofficially, it often involves going undercover on a mission. That can involve either division, depending on the sensitivity of the mission. If it’s simpler, then someone like Chan gets sent out to work his way into a situation and influence the outcome so that everything stays calm. In fact, he’s here to charm a wealthy heiress that’s getting a little too close to revealing confidential information on government contracts. 

You, on the other hand, are officially here to study Argentinian culture and immerse yourself in local traditions. Chan doesn’t know that you work for The Agency as well. He doesn’t know that Seungcheol is like a boss to you. It’s not his preference. Seungcheol misses the days when he was by your side in the field instead of stuck in the office behind a desk. Unfortunately, several years ago he suffered a severe injury that just made field work impossible for him. It took a lot of convincing, most of which fell on your shoulders as the person closest to him, to get him to transition to his current role. Where you had never set foot in the main offices, he had been there periodically. He was known to people there. And he was so insanely smart that you pointed out he would be bored trying to assimilate into regular life. Why not get to do one of his other favorite things and tell younger agents (or even older ones) what to do? That had been the biggest selling point because he was good at being in charge. It had been a bit of a rocky transition at first, but now it’s smooth sailing. 

Unofficially, you’re here tracking one of the most infamous art thieves in the world. This is the kind of thing that has to be handled with the utmost secrecy. Other agencies and your own have tried to track him down and apprehend him only to have him slip into the wind. If you had to hazard a guess, you’d assume that there had been leaks during the previous attempts. You’ve also considered that he’s just really good at making a mark and blending into his surroundings. This is one of the most secretive missions you’ve ever been sent on despite seeming relatively innocuous. How much harm can an art thief really cause, right? Except, The Agency is largely funded by private investors and several of those investors have been victims and had art stolen. Despite that, the only people that know you’re making this attempt now are Seungcheol and the head of covert operations. His counterpart doesn’t know that you’re handling it, or even who you are. Instead, the main division of The Agency has a team headed to Amsterdam thinking that they’re after the notorious thief. 

Although it seems like it should be straight forward, this thief has been working in the shadows for years without anyone really knowing what he looks like beyond him being a man. The reports about what he actually looks like vary so greatly that nobody really knows what to believe. You and Seungcheol have spent months trying to put together a profile that seems most realistic and you feel as comfortable as you can. His appearance seems a little elusive, but the information that he’s going to be in Buenos Aires is the best lead you’ve gotten. It comes from someone that you worked with on a previous mission. You had been studying your profiles when Chan came over and quickly exited to a different application. 

“I am. I’m working on understanding the history of Argentinian culture through the eyes of Buenos Aires for a project,” you say with all the affection of someone who was actually going to be doing that. “I’m going to spend most of my time just out talking to people, learning their stories, that kind of thing.”

“Do you, uh, speak Spanish?” Chan wonders with clear apprehension. 

“I do,” you say with a light laugh. “Be a bit awkward if I didn’t, right?” 

“That’s impressive,” he says. 

“I speak several languages,” you say nonchalantly and then make a show of catching his eye. “I studied language and culture in university.” 

“You’re not what I’d imagine for one of my boss’s friends,” Chan admits. “Especially one close enough to get added to the manifest.” 

You shrug. “I’ve known him for a long time.” 

“He doesn’t strike me as someone with a lot of time for friendships or someone that you can ever really know,” Chan presses and you laugh.

“Married to the job, right?” you agree. “I’m a low maintenance friend. I spend a lot of time out of town for research, immersed in local culture. We’ve probably got more in common that you’d think.” 

“That makes a lot of sense,” he concedes, seeming to easily buy your cover. He stands up. “I’ll let you get back to your reading.”

The rest of the flight goes smoothly and you say your goodbyes to Chan and the others from the flight once you get off the plane. As is the plan, you take your suitcases to a local taxi and head to your hotel, checking in under one of the many fake names you used when on a mission. The room is nice, too, even if it’s nothing all that extravagant. It’s just another part of the cover. 

Since it’s been a long day, you figure that you might as well just order room service and settle in for the night. It’ll give you the chance to start getting your body used to the local timezone. Not that your body really has a home timezone anymore with how you’re constantly on the move. But, you still don’t mind the idea of resting for the night. 

You’re incredibly thankful to be in Buenos Aires in July since it’s the coolest month. It makes it easier for you to just walk everywhere. Before leaving your room for your first full day in your new city, you double check your messenger bag to make sure everything is in there: camera, multiple lenses,  journal, tablet and keyboard, sunglasses, wallet, and all your little bits to make it look like a bag you wear all the time. You smile at the receptionist on your way out, letting her know that you’re going off to explore what the city has to offer. She seems happy to see that you look better rested than after your long travel day. Even if heading out is mostly a cover for your mission, it’s also a little true. This city has been on your bucket list to visit for years and you’re not going to waste what might be your only opportunity to explore. It might even make it more believable as you’re trying to blend into the crowds around you.

After spending several hours wandering around and taking in everything you could, you find yourself at a local cafe in the early afternoon to have a cup of coffee and a light lunch. The whole morning flew by in a rush of colors and culture. It’s so easy to be interested in everything that’s before you because it’s just so vibrant. So full of life. Such a juxtaposition of history, tradition, and new influences. It’s one of the first times you’ve been somewhere and had to remind yourself that you are actually on a mission. You’re not just there to sightsee and fall in love. 

There are a lot of tourists in the cafe, which doesn’t really surprise you. Most places in Buenos Aires stay open during the afternoon for tourism, but you know that cafes in smaller towns would close. You figure that most locals probably avoid shops during this time of day as well. It feels lucky when you spot an open table in the corner until another patron moves and you see there’s actually someone sitting in one of the seats. It’s an uncharacteristically awkward moment for you, especially given how confident you are with everything else, that he catches you mid-decision. His eyes meet yours before looking at the coffee in one hand and the plate in the other. When he looks back down at the table, it clicks into place before you can turn around. 

“You, uh, can sit…” he starts with deliberate slowness that shouldn’t be throwing you off even more. 

You shake your head to clear it and smile. “It’s fine, I don’t just speak Spanish.” 

“Oh,” he says with a breath of relief. “Well, you can sit here.” 

“I don’t want to intrude,” you say and go to turn around.

“It’s busy. Are you going to just eat standing up?” he asks with a challenging raise of his eyebrow. 

“Well,” you start.

“I probably won’t be here much longer anyway,” he offers.

Reluctantly, you move to sit down with him. It’s kind of insane the way he’s thrown you off your game by just existing. Usually, you’re the one that’s disarming strangers with your charm, not the other way around. As soon as you sit down, he looks back at the book he has open in front of him. It gives you a chance to figure out if he’s actually that attractive that it’s thrown you off or if you’re still just jet-lagged. 

His glasses slide down a nearly too perfect nose and he pushes them up without missing a beat. His black hair is a little messy and a little long, falling carelessly around his face as he gets lost in whatever book he has open in front of him. His clothes make him look a little too fancy to be sitting in a cafe overrun with tourists like this. Somehow, he makes a cardigan over a dress shirt with nice, pressed slacks work without looking like he’s trying too hard. Everything about him just exudes calm, confident energy. Like the kind of person you would assume comes from old money. Unassuming, yet standing out without even meaning to. It reminds you of some of the landmarks you saw that morning, like rich history perfectly combined with modern needs. 

Thankfully, at least some of your training kicks back in and you manage to keep it from being too obvious that you’re one step away from fully checking him out. Your new tablemate seems content to sit in silence, though, so you pick at your food while going through some of the pictures on your camera. Today is about getting the lay of the land as much as anything else. It’s not like you can just find your infamous art thief without knowing where to look. 

“I’m sure you got some great shots,” he says, drawing your attention again. When you look up, his eyes are on your camera. 

“Oh, yeah, it’s so hard to really capture the feeling of something through a camera, but I definitely try,” you say.

“I saw you at The Obelisk and I thought, I’ve never seen someone so focused in my entire life,” he says, except now he’s looking at you.

“There must have been thousands of people there. How did you pick me out?” you ask with a laugh. 

The mystery man shrugs. “Like I said, you were focused. And not in the way a lot of influencers who travel for the perfect picture are. I knew that it was more than that for you.” 

“It is,” you agree. “I’m studying the history and the culture down here. Just got in last night.” 

“Can I see the picture you landed on?” he ventures. 

You hesitate. Your pictures are good, sure, but you’re not actually doing anything that serious when you’re down here. Since it’s supposed to be part of your cover, you should feel confident. After a moment, you hand your camera over to him with your favorite picture in the display window. 

“Be kind. My focus is language and history first, not photography,” you toss out. Another layer to the cover. It’s convenient, though. Not that you expected to be talking to someone like him about photography.

“This is amazing,” he says and seems earnest. “Can I look through the rest?”

Again, you pretend to consider. This time it’s for the sake of the persona you’re committing to. It’s not like there’s anything on there from before today since it’s a fresh SD card. 

“I promise to be kind,” he presses and you roll your eyes.

“Fine,” you say and he smiles. 

It’s hard not to notice the amount of care he uses while handling your camera. Maybe he knows something about photography and realizes it’s an expensive model. Or maybe he’s just gentle with something that clearly means a lot to someone else. It’s also easier to feel like you can appreciate things about him when his attention is somewhere else. Like he won’t notice the way your eyes map his features, noting the furrow in his brows or how smooth his skin is. Or the way his hair seems absolutely perfect without any product in it. None of it seems fair that he should just get to walk around looking like that.

“I’m surprised not to find a picture of myself on here,” he starts and it pulls you from your thoughts. There’s a moment where you wonder if he’s secretly self-centered, until you meet his eyes and see the glint there. “You know, with how you’ve been studying me.” 

“I appreciate beauty wherever I see it,” you answer, trying to channel more boldness than you feel. 

“Are you saying I’m beautiful?” he questions, entirely too at-ease. 

“I don’t think you need confirmation on that,” you scoff and look out the window. “Besides, it wasn’t me that noticed you earlier.” 

“A shame for me,” he muses. “I appreciate beautiful things as well.”

He hands your camera back with his eyes locked on you. It makes your skin feel a little flushed and you hate it. Hate that you’re always able to keep your cool in any situation and still so completely disarmed by this man. Hate that it’s him that breaks the moment, too, when he looks down at the expensive watch on his wrist with a sigh.

“Late for something?” you venture. 

“Something like that,” he agrees and puts his book away in a bag you hadn’t noticed. “I’m glad you sat down though.” 

“Me too,” you admit a little too quickly as he’s standing up.

“Enjoy your afternoon, beautiful stranger,” he says and you twist around.

“Wait, I didn’t get your name,” you call and he stops by the door. The smile he throws your way sends a tingle down your spine.

“I hope we’ll run into each other again, then,” he says.

And just like that, he’s gone. Slips into the crowd like he wasn’t even there in the first place. It makes you wonder, just for a second, if the entire exchange actually happened. Until you look back at the table and see the cup of coffee he had been drinking. Beside it, you notice a small piece of paper advertising a new installation at one of the local art museums. Not entirely out of the question, you think, for someone visiting this city and also interested in seeing your camera.

It’s then that you remind yourself why you’re actually here. You shake your head to clear it of any thoughts of the stranger, knowing you can’t make any effort to run into him again. The mission is the only thing that matters. Getting close to someone that could distract you in that way is not part of the plan. So, you can appreciate the banter and get back on track.

The next few days pass relatively uneventfully. You continue to explore the city while always keeping your eyes and ears open for any indication of the art thief. It’s a little frustrating to not have much to go on, but you’re also one of the most patient agents and you know it’ll pay off eventually. Seungcheol keeps in regular contact, sending along each new nugget of information he’s able to find. Even if they’re seemingly insignificant, you file them all away, appreciating how hard you know he’s working given how few people know about the mission. He has to pull the relevant pieces to send to you without tipping off the team in Amsterdam. 

You’re also splitting your days. Making sure to get out to experience the local culture to maintain your cover, while spending just as much time locked away in your room so that you can do your own research. Everything points to him already being in the city as well. It also seems like this next heist might be two-fold for him. It appears that he’s got a client that wants a specific piece of art and that he’s also going to steal some pieces for himself to sell at later dates. It’s a bit unusual, from what you’ve been able to tell. He usually likes to keep each job simple to reduce the likelihood of getting caught. Then again, he’s been active for years and doing just fine. 

Today you decide to go to check out a museum that you’ve been putting off. It’s silly, but you didn’t want to show up there the day after that cafe since it seemed a little convenient to leave behind. You have to familiarize yourself with all the museums in the city, though, and it seems like this one could be your thief’s target. It has just the right amount of traffic. Just the right combination of popular pieces with lesser known artists. 

Once you’re there, you immediately move away from the popular sections. That’s not the kind of art you’re after because it’s not the kind of art the thief ever steals. It’s too recognizable. Too hard to move. Just too risky. Once you’re in a quieter part of the museum, you fight off any feelings of being a fraud. Art has never really been your strong suit. If it weren’t for this mission being so sensitive, you definitely would not be the first agent anyone would choose. But, it is sensitive and so you have to rely on your training to carry you through any conversations that might pop up. You have to rely on the hours spent pouring over lectures about the different styles and influences, the different periods, different techniques. Hopefully your talent at rote memorization will serve you well. 

“It’s a shame they keep one of the best artists tucked away in a corner like this,” a voice says from your side, pulling you from your thoughts. 

You answer without even thinking much about the voice or even turning to see the person who appeared next to you nearly soundlessly. “Makes it easier to appreciate in peace, though.” 

“You like surrealism, then?” he asks and it’s only then that you notice something familiar about the voice or the manner of speaking. Or the fact that he’s not speaking to you in Spanish. 

Before you even turn to your side, you know who you’re going to find. He’s looking just as put together and at-ease as he did several days ago in the cafe. His hands rest in his pockets, but his eyes on you are sharp. There’s something a little hard to read about him, you think. 

The smile you give him is practiced, designed to seem genuine. “I like Leonor Fini.” 

“You’ve got good taste,” he says and turns back to the piece. 

“I do like surrealism,” you carry on, turning back to the piece yourself as well, “but, with her work, I really appreciate the way she used female subjects through a female lens. Too many artists…”

You trail off, pretending you’re unsure if you should continue. He falls into the setup easily. “Men could only show female subjects through their own eyes, but women look different through the eyes of other women.” 

“Exactly,” you say and smile at him before turning back to the painting again. “There’s something so captivating about the work she did.” 

“I agree. That’s why this is my favorite piece here and in my favorite section of works,” he says confidently. 

“You already have a favorite?” you joke.

“Well, I’ve been here every day for the past several days,” he shares.

This makes you turn to him fully. “Because you love this section and this work so much?” 

This mysterious man actually looks down like he’s embarrassed to admit whatever he’s about to tell you. Like he’s gotten shy for a moment. “I do, but I was actually hoping to run into you.” 

That catches you a bit off guard and it takes your brain a minute to remember, once again, you’re here on a mission. “It would have been easier to run into me if you just asked for my number.” 

“Kind of ruins this whole mysterious thing I have going on, though,” he shrugs. 

You roll your eyes and extend your hand, giving him your fake name for the mission. His eyes sparkle for a second before he takes your hand. 

“Wonwoo,” he answers.

“Nice to finally get your name,” you tease.

“I figured you’d come check out the museum when I left the card there at the cafe,” Wonwoo says. 

“I knew that was on purpose,” you mumble.

“Yet you didn’t come until today,” he observes.

“I wasn’t trying to make it easy on you,” you throw out quickly.

“Okay, time to switch tactics, then,” he says. “Can I take you to dinner tonight?” 

“I’m not sure, can you?” you ask.

“Please let me take you to dinner,” he says.

It’s a bad idea and you know it. Everything about him screams distraction. This isn’t what you’re in Buenos Aires to do. Yet, there’s something about him that has you curious. There’s also the fact that this museum seems to be the most likely target for the art thief and this man admitted he’s been here every day. A small part of your brain is sending up alarm signals to keep an eye on him. He doesn’t seem like a secret art thief, but hasn’t your training taught you how to hide in plain sight? It’s entirely possible he’s doing the same.

Your brain goes into overdrive as it often does on missions. There are a million little details in the pages of your profile on the art thief. They come flooding back to you. The profile so thoughtfully pieced together by The Agency says he’s probably unassuming. The kind of man that fits into any situation in the same way as you do, like he’s not trying to fit in and it means he doesn’t stand out as not belonging. The profile suggests that he’s confident. That he would appear calm. Most importantly, he’s the kind of person that would absolutely look at home in the midst of art. So, whether it’s a good idea or not, you know you’re going to say yes. He must see the answer in your eyes before you voice it because he smirks. 

“What time?” 

Wonwoo offers to pick you up at your hotel, but you insist that you’ll meet him at the restaurant. It’s safer that way, after all, being a woman traveling alone. At least that’s what you tell him. Not that anything about Wonwoo seems that threatening and you’re better equipped to handle yourself than most. You just don’t need him anywhere near your room even with everything put away. After going back to get ready, you made time to pour over the information you have. The more you consider it, the more it seems plausible that he could be exactly who you’re looking for. There’s only one issue: he asked you out. Everything you have suggests that he made agents in the past and slipped into the wind. You’re not cocky enough to think you’re too good to fall victim to the same fate. You keep your update to Seungcheol vague in case the lead doesn’t pan out. 

Surprisingly, Wonwoo picks a nice place off the beaten path for dinner. It’s not overrun with tourists and it’s not too expensive. Like him, it’s unassuming but quietly impressive. You try not to let your heart skip a beat when you see him in a simple white dress shirt and black dress pants. He stands to pull your seat out for you and then settles back into his seat across from you. This is for the sake of the mission. Either he’s the person you’re looking for or you’ll have enjoyed a free and tasty meal. Nothing more to it. 

His Spanish, it turns out, isn’t that great and so you help him through ordering since it’s definitely a place more for the locals. Or maybe it’s just an excuse to get your help. You’re not really sure you mind either way. He makes suggestions about which wines he prefers, but ultimately lets you pick, insisting that he will take care of whatever you land on. Once you get through ordering and all the small talk, it gives you a chance to really get to know him.

“Have you been here before?” you ask.

“This restaurant or this city?” he asks.

“Either,” you shrug.

“No to both,” he answers. “Clearly, my Spanish is a bit rusty. I’m so lucky that I found someone who’s so fluent.” 

“I’m not sure I believe you can’t speak the language,” you muse.

“I can speak enough Spanish to get by, but it’s not that good,” he assures you. 

“Interesting place to visit, then,” you observe.

“I’d miss out on a lot of beauty if I only went where I spoke the language fluently,” he retorts and you smile genuinely at that. He’s right. 

“Like the art in the museum?” you suggest.

“Or a charming stranger,” he counters. You’re impressed. “I do like the art as well, though.” 

“What other beautiful places have you visited?” you ask.

“Oh, I hardly think it’s that interesting,” he dismisses.

“Humor me,” you say. 

There’s a moment where he’s careful in listing off places. Like he’s weighing something that you can’t really place. He ends up listing some places that catch your attention. Each of them has some wonderful art museums and it piques your curiosity. You try to look just politely interested, commenting on how he’s lucky to be able to travel as extensively as he seems to. He plays it off with a vague comment about being fortunate with help from his family. It’s the kind of thing that you know passes on a first date. It’s not appropriate to mention money on a first date. So, that would be fine, if it didn’t also make you curious about who this man really was. After all, your art thief being well connected through family would definitely make sense.

Throughout the rest of the dinner, you try to enjoy it. Not that it’s hard to do. Wonwoo is actually a lot of fun to be around. The conversation flows easily and you’re able to connect on a lot of shared interests. At least, interests that you pretend to have for the sake of this mission. But, it feels like he might also be pretending on some of his interests. He’s just a little too calm and put together. A little too quick with his answers. A little too rehearsed with his comments. Maybe you wouldn’t think twice if you weren’t doing the same. 

By the time you finish the main course, you’re pretty sure that you managed to stumble into a date with the exact person that you’re here looking for based on his stories. It may have been a guess before. It feels nearly for sure  now. He mentions how you have to visit Japan when the cherry blossoms are blooming, which sounds stunning. He mentions Oktoberfest in Munich and how he barely remembers anything from that trip. Then there's the ice festival in China, Nordlysfestivalen in Norway, and a few other locations that sound beautiful. They also have one thing in common. Each place is also on your list for stolen art around the time of the events. 

Once you finish dessert, you’re making a decision that you know you should really clear with someone else before making. Sure, you’re pretty sure that Wonwoo is the art thief. And yes, it’s true that keeping an eye on him is in your best interest. One way to do that is to continue with the date. Yet, you’re not stopping to check in with Seungcheol. You’re not analyzing the pros and cons of doing this. After giving Seungcheol a vague update about a lead and promising you’ll have more information later on, he should be the first person you call. He’s not swept up in the atmosphere of a foreign city with a gorgeous stranger. No, you don’t do any of that. You’re just agreeing to go back to his room with him without a second thought. He’s painfully hot and you’re incredibly attracted to him, which is wildly unprofessional. But, you’re not sure you care. At least for the night. You can figure it all out later.

Wonwoo is quietly confident without being cocky. His gaze is so penetrating that it feels like he’s undressing you without it being slimy. He can hold a conversation about seemingly anything, but he’s also just as interested in what you have to say. In fact, you have his attention the whole night, regardless of anything else going on. It’s a little overwhelming to have someone so focused on you. But, when it feels a little overwhelming, he makes a perfectly timed, slightly sarcastic joke that makes you laugh harder than you should. The smile you wear all throughout the date is genuine. You’re actually enjoying yourself so much that you’re not sure you want it to end. Life has never felt so simultaneously complicated and easy.

Wonwoo’s lips are hot on yours as he cages you against the door of his hotel room. That intensity you saw all dinner reappears and you feel like you might burn under his touch. He’s so in control. You’re still not entirely sure how you wound up here, but you’re not really trying to think too hard about it. The fact that he’s almost definitely the art thief becomes an issue for future-you the second he kisses you like it’s your last day on Earth. It’s not like he knows you’re tracking his movements and it isn’t exactly a bad thing to keep a closer eye on him. Nor is it the first time you’ve done something like this. It is the first time you’ve done it without thought, though, and genuinely been interested in the man you let seduce you.

He has his body pressed against yours with his arms on either side of you so there really is nowhere to go. It’s kind of hot and you’re not even pretending to be turned on. A definite bonus. Your hands quickly undo his belt so that you can pull the edges of his shirt out. The moment your hands make contact with his skin, he pulls away and hisses. They’re likely cold, not that you care. It gives you the chance to catch his lower lip between your teeth. You watch his eyes darken with lust as you run your hands up his back, scratching down lightly. 

“Just who do you think is in control here, baby?” His voice is so low in your ear that it makes you swallow hard. Everything about the endearment sounds sarcastic and it shouldn’t work, but you’re only human. Then he nips at your earlobe and you actually moan. 

“What are you going to do about it?” you challenge. It feels like a lot of heat between you. If your head were clearer, you might consider that it feels like two people who know they shouldn’t be fucking. Almost like he’s punishing you a little, which he might want to, given why you’re here.

“That’s a dangerous question,” he warns you. 

“Afraid I can’t handle it?” you ask and watch the way it nearly breaks his composure. You press forward into him, pulling him down so his ear is by your mouth now. Barely raise your voice above a whisper. “I’m not that fragile. I can handle a little pain.” 

That seems to set him off. You’re worried for a second when he pulls away, but that disappears as you watch his nimble fingers rapidly undoing the buttons on his shirt. He casts it aside and looks back at you. 

“I want you stripped naked and on the bed,” he commands. 

You’re not typically in the habit of taking commands but something about him makes you want to listen. Even if you want to challenge him a little. He turns his back and you do strip down. Mostly. You climb onto the bed wearing only your panties, legs spread open and waiting for him. When he turns around, you miss the flare of his nostrils at your defiance looking at his muscles. For someone so unassuming, he was certainly in good shape. 

“Is this your idea of naked?” he questions.

It’s funny, since he’s still got his boxer briefs on, though they leave little to the imagination. You can already see that he’s getting hard from the lead up. 

“I thought I’d leave that honor for you,” you say, injecting as much innocence as you can muster into every word.

Wonwoo looks at you for another long second before climbing onto the bed and getting between your legs. He pushes them further open and you bite down on your lip. 

“You don’t get to muffle those moans from me, sweetheart,” he teases, running a hand up the inside of your thigh.

“Or what?” you challenge again.

He raises an eyebrow at you and pulls his hand away from your thigh. You’re about to whine when he brings it back in a sharp slap. 

“Shit,” you hiss. 

“You liked that, didn’t you?” he asks. You nod with big eyes. “Use your words.”

“Fuck, yes, I liked it,” you rush out the second his finger traces a light line up your clothed cunt. 

“I can tell,” he snarks. “Just tell me if it’s too much.”

“It won’t be,” you insist. He pulls his hand away and looks at you surprisingly soft for a second.

“Tell me if it is,” he repeats.

“I will,” you promise. 

“Good,” he says and hooks his fingers inside the band of your panties, pulling them down your legs and casting them aside in one motion. “That’s better.” 

In another surprise, Wonwoo doesn’t dive right into your cunt the way you expect him to given how frenzied everything has been so far. Instead, he trails kisses from your knee up your inner thigh. Pausing occasionally to nip into the skin before running his tongue over the mark to soothe it. You’re writhing on the bed by the time his breath ghosts across your cunt. The chuckle is low and deep as you squirm when he moves to your other thigh. You’re going to die before he even touches you. 

“Jesus fuck, Wonwoo, if you don’t start eating me out…” you start, a hand winding into his hair.

He pops up and glares at you. “You’ll what? Did you already forget who’s in charge?” 

“I’ll…” you start, before cutting off with a sharp, “FUCK!”

He’s still got his eyes on you when his thumb runs quickly through your folds to press against your clit. There’s barely any movement but it anchors you in place. “That’s what I thought.” 

His kisses up your other thigh are much sloppier with a thumb still in place. It only makes you squirm more, searching for some kind of relief. When he finally gets to your lips, you expect he’s going to tease you again. You’re wrong. Again. His tongue dives into your pussy while his other hand keeps you spread open. This man knows what he’s doing and it’s immediately more than you’re expecting. You can’t stop your legs from snapping closed to box him in. That is, until he pulls his hands off you to spread your legs wide again, giving him the best access to you. It’s clear that he’s in charge and he wants you to know it. 

It’s everything you can do not to thrash around, but Wonwoo seems to be ready to help there. He’s got a hand on your stomach anchoring you down to the bed. You’re not even sure how he’s got enough hands to move them along your body the way he seems to. Without warning, he moves his mouth up to pay attention to your clit. And he doesn’t give you a break, sliding two fingers into you and immediately scissoring them open. He sets a brutal pace, curling his fingers to hit you where he seems to know you need him on some of the passes. 

“Fuck, Wonwoo, oh my god, fuck,” you scream out.

“You gonna come for me, baby?” he sneers at you from between your legs.

“Yes, fuck,” you moan. “Your fingers, oh my god.” 

“You’re so fucking tight,” he groans.

In the next moment, you’re coming so hard you squirt over those amazing fingers of his. Your vision whites out around the edges and your toes are curling. It’s all you can do to catch your breath as Wonwoo’s fingers pump through the high. 

“I don’t remember the last time I came that hard,” you admit.

“We’re not done yet,” he shares and the tone of his voice has you nearly clenching your legs together. “Turn over. Get on your hands and knees.” 

“So bossy,” you say with a roll of your eyes. You turn over anyway, though, and put your ass in the air. 

“This is a really good fucking view,” he says. You feel the bed dip when he gets back in place after removing his boxers. 

Wonwoo has one hand on your hip and the other is running up your back to press you down further. To help you get that perfect arch of your back. You wiggle your ass at him and are rewarded with a stinging smack. Your moan is muffled by the pillow, so you turn your head to the side. Already know he wants to hear you. When he smacks your other ass check, you nearly scream out.

“That’s it, I want to hear you,” he encourages. 

“Please, Wonwoo, just fuck me already,” you beg. 

“One orgasm wasn’t enough?” he asks and you can hear the cockiness in his voice. Bringing a ringing smack down on your ass again. You scream out at the sting. 

“No, I want you to split me open,” you whine. In any other situation you might be embarrassed by the admission, but not now. Not with him. Not when it’s so clearly turning him on. 

“Greedy little thing,” he comments. His fingers press into your cunt again and you nearly yelp. 

There’s no time to adjust when Wonwoo removes his fingers and immediately lines himself up at your entrance. With one snap of his hips, he’s fully inside you and you’re hissing. He’s bigger than you were guessing, even with the outline in his boxers. And he doesn’t give you a break as he starts fucking you hard. All you can hear is the sound of his skin slapping against yours and the mingled moans from both of you. You’re sensitive from both the pace and the earlier orgasm. Your legs feel like they would collapse under you if they could. 

As if the pace isn’t enough, Wonwoo snakes an arm around you to reach for your clit, rubbing circles into it at the same pace as his thrusts. You can tell he’s nowhere near close, but you’re about to lose control again and you’re not sure how to stop it.

“Fuck, Wonwoo, slower, I’m going to - fuck!” you whine out. 

“You gonna come again? So soon, baby?” he taunts. 

“I can’t - fuck, please,” you beg. “I’m so close.” 

“I want you to  make a mess of my dick the same way you made a mess of my fingers,” Wonwoo directs. 

“But you haven’t…” you start and Wonwoo removes his hand from your clit. You cry out at the loss until his other hand grabs your hair to yank you back against his chest. When it’s clear you’re not going to move, his hand moves from your hair to your throat.

“I want you to come for me. Right now. Show me how good I feel inside that tight pussy,” he directs.

It’s one of the most surprising reactions, the way your body immediately responds to him. He’s got you coming just as hard as the first time and he doesn’t give you a chance to second guess any of it. As the shocks rip through your body, you notice that Wonwoo does slow down his thrusts. Doesn’t pull out of you, though. You collapse forward and arch your back again so it’s easier to meet Wonwoo’s continued pace.

“You’re so good at listening,” he praises.

“Not usually,” you mumble into the pillow through the haze. 

“I must be special,” he says as he lazily fucks into you.

“Jesus Wonwoo, you can fuck me. I know you haven’t finished yet,” you grumble.

“In a rush to go somewhere?” he teases. 

“No, but it must be…well, I don’t know. Hard for you,” you mumble into the sheets. 

“I’ve got excellent control,” Wonwoo says, all confidence. “I’m not in a rush to end this.” 

Despite your instance, he continues to lazily snap his hips into you. It’s so slow, way too slow. He reaches down to pull you up against his chest again, still keeping the pace. His hands are on your breasts, squeezing them to anchor you to him. He rolls one of your nipples roughly between his fingers to see what he gets as a reaction. Your moan seems to spur him on further. Each time pain shoots through some part of your body, it only seems to turn you on more. It’s easy to forget why you agreed to this in the first place. 

For all the demands, Wonwoo is actually very attentive as well. He peppers kisses from behind your ear all the way down your shoulder and back, paying special attention to the areas that seem to get the best response from you. He’s also careful with where he nips you, never biting hard enough to leave a mark somewhere that couldn’t be easily hidden. The entire experience has been so all-consuming that there isn’t space for any other thoughts in your head. It’s just him and this hotel room that’s entirely too fancy. 

He must feel that you’re starting to get worked up because he pushes you back down into the bed. His pace finally picks up again, which is good because you’re sprinting towards being too sore to actually enjoy it anymore. The pace gets much faster again, not nearly as rhythmic as before. His fingers dig into your hips as he thrusts. It’s the first time it actually feels like he’s losing control. 

“Oh my god,” you cry out. “I’m gonna come again. Oh my god!” 

“Me too,” he groans through a stuttered breath. “Fuck, where can I come?” 

“I don’t care,” you cry out. You’re about to have your third orgasm. “On my back, on my ass, I don’t fucking care, just come with me.” 

You press a finger to your clit to try and help you over that last bit to tumble over the edge so that Wonwoo can chase his own relief. The second your body starts shaking, you feel him pull out. He must pump his cock a few times because there’s a slight delay before you feel something hit your back. You feel a little proud with how much cum you feel on your skin, like maybe he was a little more affected by you than he wanted to let on. 

As soon as Wonwoo lays down next to you on the bed, you also collapse onto your side. The bed is soft, but your knees are still a little sore from spending so much time on them. Wonwoo immediately pulls you into him so that he can kiss you breathless. His hand is behind your head, keeping you from pulling away. The chemistry between the two of you is intense. Not something you were prepared for. It’s clear that if one of you doesn’t stop, then you’ll be fucking him again. And your body needs a break.

“I should get cleaned up,” you say when you pull back, more than slightly breathless. 

“Let me just get cleaned up a little and then you can take a shower,” he says. 

He presses a kiss to your temple and then gets up off the bed. There’s no point in pretending you aren’t watching him as he walks to the bathroom. He’s all lean lines and unexpected muscles. Nobody should be allowed to look the way he does, to look so good that Greek gods would be jealous. And yet here he is. 

A few minutes later, he emerges from the bathroom and arches an eyebrow at you. There’s a towel slung low around his hips in a way that should be a sin. “You’re going to make me think that you want more.”

“I don’t even know if I’m going to be able to stand,” you joke as an answer.

It surprises you a little when he comes over to the bed and helps you up. That is, until you see the way his eyes take you in. There’s nothing soft there, only predatory. Like you’re a meal he wants to return to. Your brain still feels a little slow to catch up, but registers something like he’s analyzing you. Still, he helps you get to the bathroom, points out the toiletries, and then disappears back into the room. 

By the time you’re clean and wrapped in the softest bathrobe you’ve ever worn, Wonwoo is sitting at the table wearing shorts and his glasses with nothing else. He’s scrolling absently through his phone and picking at some snacks that hadn’t been there when you had gone to shower. You didn’t think you’d been in there long, so it’s surprising he was able to get something up so quickly. When he notices you’re out of the bathroom, he indicates the food.

“I ordered us some snacks and they were happy to get them up here quickly,” he says. 

You take a seat across from him a little apprehensively. This is the part that you hadn’t really considered. How do you excuse yourself from the situation in a way that ensures you’ll see him again? It’s not that you want to have a repeat, though there’s part of your brain that is not opposed like you should be. It’s just…well with the room and the toiletries and the fast room service, you’re sure that this is the man you’re looking for. Which, admittedly, might make things a little complicated. But, you do have a job to do.

“I guess I am hungry,” you admit and reach for something.

“Glad you’re not going to make me eat alone,” he muses. 

“You already paid for dinner and drinks, I wasn’t expecting more treats,” you admit. 

“Seems fitting after the mindblowing sex,” he says and watches you, a clear glint to his eyes. “I can’t get over how insanely hot it was to watch you squirt for me.” 

Your cheeks redden without your permission. He’s so free with admitting it even with the moment having passed. Maybe he’s more trouble than you realized. 

“Seems like I wasn’t the only one to enjoy myself if my back is any indication,” you toss out. 

“I really enjoyed the way you told me I could come on your back,” he shares.

“And my ass,” you remind him.

“I got that too,” he reminds you. “And what a nice ass it is.” 

“Careful or I’ll ask you to blow my back out again,” you say, voice slightly betraying that you’re affected by his very presence. 

“That makes me think you were going to head out and never see me again,” Wonwoo ventures.

“I haven’t decided yet,” you say, trying to be coy.

Wonwoo fixes you with a stare that you can’t quite decipher. It nearly makes you squirm under the intensity. Is he just like that? The kind of person that does everything with that burning look in his eyes. 

“Let me ask you something, Agent,” he begins and your mouth runs dry. You do everything you can not to let him know that you’re a second away from losing it. “Do you fuck all your targets? Or am I special?”

The way he smirks at you lets you know that he knows he’s onto something. Knows exactly who you are. Or maybe who you work for, at least. He’s made you and you’re not entirely sure you’re safe anymore. You’re also not entirely sure what the best move is. Probably take half a second too long to decide if his face is any indication. 

“Agent? Target?” you laugh out. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” 

“Don’t you?” he presses. “Really, we shouldn’t be lying to each other so early in the relationship.” 

“I’m here doing…” you start.

“Research, yes. That’s what you said. And you almost had me when it took so long to run into you again. Your Spanish is flawless. It doesn’t sound like someone that learned at some secret agency. You’re much better at languages than any of the other agents that have come after me. And waiting so long to meet me again, genius. It really had me second guessing who you were,” he says. “But then, you made a mistake. Do you know what it was?” 

“Going on a date with someone that’s clearly a little delusional?” you ventured. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Oh, I think you do,” he says, confident. “I’ll tell you where you fucked up. It was dinner tonight. No, not something you said or did because you were shockingly smooth with it. It’s that you agreed to it at all. I suggested a place no researcher would ever go to. Because it used to be the site of a religious monument, but it fell into disrepair. A local crime family took it over. Only locals bother going there, but no researcher ever would.” 

Your heart sinks. Through all your research and all your planning, you knew that you would never be able to get everything. There just wasn’t the time. So, you had to hope that the person you were chasing wouldn’t notice any small missteps. Or would write them off with your cover story. What you had not planned for was this. In all your careful consideration, you had not planned to go on a date with the art thief himself. He had you and he knew it. It’s hard to see the right path out of this. 

It had been a gamble to get close to him the way you had. A gamble that you questioned taking and took anyway. A gamble you took without clearing it with Seungcheol. Usually, getting close to a target this way, you talk to him to make sure that he thinks it’s a good idea too. Make sure that this kind of move will fit the profile for the person that you’re chasing. This time, you’re flying blind. You had gotten a little ahead of yourself. A little sloppy. This isn’t the type of work you’re known for. It’s not the reason that you were sent down to Buenos Aires to chase him on a secret mission. 

“One mistake,” you sigh with a shake of your head. 

“Yeah, just the one,” he agrees. 

“So why did you invite me back here?” you ask. 

Wonwoo shrugs. “I’m curious about you.” 

“Curious? You risked inviting me back to your actual hotel room over curiosity?” you ask, looking around. 

“Who’s to say this is actually my room?” he says with another casual shrug. You clock it on his face as soon as he says it. 

“No, it is your actual room. The comfort, the speed of the room service, the way things are laid out. It’s not staged. This is just where you’re staying,” you observe. That makes him smile in a way you’re not expecting.

“Good eye,” he agrees. “Now for my question. Do you fuck all your targets?” 

“No,” you say shortly. 

“Why even agree to go on a date with me, then?” he presses. 

You sigh and sit further back into your chair. Take a piece of fruit from the table to buy yourself some time. “I don’t know. It wasn’t a good decision, obviously. I wasn’t even sure you were my target. There was just…something about you.” 

“So you’ve never fucked a target before? I’m special?” he asks with a smirk.

“I didn’t say that,” you respond. “I just don’t usually fuck a target without clearing it first.” 

“Who knows you’re here with me?” he asks.

“Nobody,” you answer. It’s too honest. 

You’re not sure if you should have admitted that and even less sure if he’ll believe you. It is the truth, though. Nobody in the world knows where you are right now. It’s kind of a crossroads for you because Wonwoo isn’t dangerous. He’s never been violent, as far as your information shows. Despite being physically separated from your bag, you’re not exactly unarmed. And yes, he does look like he’s in shape, but you’re still confident that you can take him if it comes to that. Once again, your mind is running through a million calculations a second as you realize you definitely should have talked to Seungcheol. 

“I’m trying to figure you out,” he admits.

“How’s that going?” you ask sarcastically. 

“Not as well as it would normally,” he says. It’s something else that’s honest between the two of you. More honest than you’re expecting. “Most people are too easy to figure out. It’s boring. Nothing about you makes sense to me.” 

“And what about me is so difficult for you to figure out?” you ask, still lacing your words with sarcasm. 

“You know, despite me figuring out that you’re after me, you’re actually the best agent that they’ve ever sent. You fit into your role seamlessly. You’re just the right amount of charming. You blend into your surroundings because you don’t try to do anything to dull yourself. Against my better judgment, I am impressed. And yet, you still decided to come on the date. You’re clearly the best they have and you’re still here,” he says, gaze soft but analytical on you. 

“I’m going to keep my mouth shut,” you say carefully. 

“Why?” he asks. 

“You disarm me,” you admit. “I know so much about you and yet, here I am. Unwilling to leave even though you know what I’m here to do.” 

“Do you still want to turn me in?” he asks.

“Are you going to disappear into the wind the second I walk out that door?” you counter. 

He regards you for a moment. A moment too long, really. It makes you squirm in your seat. This isn’t going at all how you would have imagined. “No.” 

“Why?” you ask.

“Because I’m waiting to see how this whole thing plays out. You haven’t said that you want to turn me in. I can see you’re conflicted about it. So, I’m going to see how this plays out,” he answers. He holds up a hand when you open your mouth. Seems to predict you’re going to ask why again. “Because…okay, look. I know this is really weird. I know you’re here to try and find me. But, you’re actually interesting and that sex was fucking good. So, I don’t know, call me cocky. I’m not ready to let you walk away just yet.”

“If I can walk at all,” you grumble. 

“You were walking just fine from the bathroom. Maybe I need to really make sure you can’t walk,” he muses. 

The eye contact is too much and you turn your head away. You’re positive he’s onto you, especially when you carefully cross your legs. It’s just that he’s right, isn’t he? You can sit here and pretend that you only slept with him to keep him close while you tried to figure him out. Can say that it was all just part of the job and you didn’t enjoy it. Can say that you wanted to take a different approach since nobody else has been able to catch him.

That’s also very clearly a lie.

Seungcheol likes to know what his agents are up to, particularly when it comes to agents like you that deal with secret missions. Since you started as friends before he had to retire to his desk, he’s also very protective of you. He hates it when you suggest using your charm on a target like this. So, no, this isn’t just another target. This is something else entirely. You have to admit that you actually enjoyed it. That you would like to do it again. That you actually don’t even want to leave his room because you’re not convinced you’ll ever see him again. Which is really stupid, isn’t it? You should not care if you never see him again. Unless it means that you failed your mission. That’s not why you’re worrying about never seeing him again, though. 

Just as you’re about to open your mouth and say something else, your phone chirps from your bag. It’s a sign. You know it is. The sound is tied to Seungcheol. Which means he’s looking for a check-in. Which means you’re late, something that never happens with you. You’re standing up to get your phone before even realizing it. Wonwoo’s eyes track your movements. 

Cheol: hope you’re enjoying your trip! Send pictures when you can

It’s code. Sent through a normal message so that it doesn’t look suspicious. And so that it gives you the chance to ignore it if you’re not in a place where you can answer him. You don’t even hear Wonwoo approach as you’re mentally calculating how to respond to this.

“Is that code?” he asks and you nearly jump out of your skin at the sound of his low voice by your ear. God, nobody should have a voice like his.

“It’s my handler, I guess you could say,” you answer.

“Are you going to call him?” he asks.

“He’ll worry if I don’t,” you say and realize it’s true. 

Wonwoo steps around you to grab his own phone and then returns to his position at the table. “I’ll be quiet if you want to call.” 

There’s something kind of hot about how he says it. Like he doesn’t actually want to let you leave. Or like it’s an order to stay. You’re not sure if you’re reading too much into it. When you look over at him, his eyes are on his phone, but his lips turn up in a smile. He knows your eyes are on him and he’s still playing a game. A game that you just might lose, for the first time in your life. 

With a sigh, you shake your head and just fire off a text in response. You don’t have it in you to call Seungcheol and you also aren’t exactly sure what to say. He’s always been able to read your tone like it’s his own. After telling him you might have a lead, he’s going to know something is wrong. This is going to be a problem.

You: it’s been amazing, i’m loving each new thing i get to see in person. I’ll have some pictures to show you tomorrow!

It’s a signal that you’re not going to have anything new to share with him tonight and not to contact you again until you check in the next day. You’re not really sure if this is the right decision, but you need time to clear your head. This is the only way that you can see getting that. It’s too hard to think about making a decision when Wonwoo is still half naked and looking at you like you’re prey. At least you can assume that you could take him if you needed to. Thankfully, he’s not really looking at you like that kind of prey. 

“I’ll call him tomorrow,” you say.

“And what will you do tonight?” Wonwoo asks, looking up at you.

“I’m all yours, at least for tonight,” you say. 

You’re surprised the look he gives you doesn’t melt you into the floor. “I can work with that.”

The next day brings more confusion than the night before. At least you’re back in your own hotel room and out of the intoxicating orbit of Wonwoo. The downside is that you couldn’t leave his bed without agreeing to lunch plans with him. Both of you wanted to get breakfast together, but hadn’t been able to get out of bed in time for that. You turned down his offer to just buy you new clothes so you wouldn’t have to leave his sight. Thankfully, he does seem to understand that you need a minute to process everything in the last 24 hours. It’s been a bit of a whirlwind.

That’s not what you need to focus on right now, though. You don’t have any more messages from Seungcheol, which is what you expected. Still, you need to call him before he doesn’t something to check on you. Like sending Chan to your hotel with some made up story. You don’t want to put anyone in that position. You also don’t really know what you’re going to say. When you left Wonwoo’s hotel room, he made it clear: the choice was yours. He wants to see you again and he also knows that he’s asking a lot. Too much, probably. So, he’s giving you a choice. If you show up at lunch to meet him, then you’re at least willing to get to know him a little more before deciding anything. If you stand him up, then he’ll know you can’t agree to that. It’s a major gamble for him because you know what he looks like and his real name. You have more than you need to put an end to years of his hard work. 

Nothing in your life has prepared you for this. Not really. Sure, you train for missions and you perfect your skills. But, emotions have never been part of it. It’s always been so easy to separate your humanity from your job. Kind of like you just switch of anything that makes you normal and go into mission-mode. You once compared it to being an actor because you’re just playing a part. None of it is real and none of it is really your decision. This is uncharted territory for you.

Once you catch your breath, you pull a device out of the secret pocket in your bag so that you can connect it to your phone. It’ll scramble the signals and make the line secure so that you can call Seungcheol. It’s a bit of normalcy that you’re craving in the madness around you. 

“Finally, I’ve been worried,” Seungcheol answers. 

“I answered you right away,” you point out.

“Yes, to say that you would not be calling me,” Seungcheol presses and you sigh.

“Because I don’t have anything new to report,” you say without even realizing when you made the decision. The lie flows so easily. “I’ve been cataloging everything on everyone I see at the museums and galleries. Cross checking the names coming into the country. Surveying anyone that sticks out as I check things out.” 

“Hey, it’s okay,” Seungcheol cuts in.

“I’m here to find him, though,” you point out. You’re not sure why you’re doing this. 

“I know,” he says. “But, I’d rather you be safe.”

“I’m always safe,” you lie. Thankfully, he doesn’t seem to pick up on it. 

“I know, but I also know you’re competitive,” he says. “Remember, we’ve already sent no less than 6 teams to find him and they’ve all failed.” 

“I don’t fail, though. That’s why you sent me,” you say. You’re not even sure why you’re arguing with him. 

“Just be careful. What happened with that lead you thought you had?” he asks. 

“A dead end,” you say with a practiced sigh. “Does the intelligence say he’s still in the city?” 

“I can’t imagine he’d leave without taking anything,” Seungcheol says. 

“Good point,” you say. “I’ll keep looking.” 

“Do you want me to send back-up?” he asks.

“It’s your mission,” you say noncommittally. “If you think it’ll help and we can still fly under the radar, then by all means.” 

“I was thinking of Chan since he’s still kind of in the area,” he says.

“Ah, yeah, I’m not sure,” you admit.

“You’re right, I know. I do want you to formally meet him soon, though. But, definitely not mid-mission,” he agrees. “Just be careful and keep me updated. If it goes on too long, we’ll just pull you. Maybe he got spooked.” 

“Yeah, that works,” you agree. 

“See you when you’re back,” he says.

“See you,” you answer and hang up.

It feels awful to lie to him, of all people. He’s one of the only people that you’ve ever trusted in your life. The only one that knows exactly who you are, knows all your demons, and still accepts you. He knows just how many people are six feet under because of you, knows the ways you’ve had to use your body, knows the lies you’ve told and the people you’ve hurt, both physically and emotionally. He knows all your scars and he accepts it. Because you know all his scars, too. It sucks to lie to him.

Sometimes they say that indecision is still a decision. That’s where you are now. You can say that you haven’t made a decision about what you’re going to do with Wonwoo. You can say that you’re waiting for more information. But, in a way, you’ve made at least one decision in his favor. You didn’t tell Seungcheol that your lead turned out to be the art thief himself. No. Instead, you’re showering and getting ready to meet him again, about to make yet another decision. Maybe you were always going to agree to lunch rather than stand him up. He’s got a lot to lose here too. It’s far more complicated than it should be. 

Your head is a little in the clouds by the time you leave your room to head down to the lobby and out into the comfortable winter air. If you spend a little more time than strictly necessary making sure you look nice, well that’s your business. The only drawback is that you don’t have Wonwoo’s phone number, at your own insistence, and so he may think you decided to stand him up. That worry lasts as long as it takes for you to reach the lobby. That’s where you see him, sitting casually in an armchair with his eyes locked on you. There’s no reason for the way your heart skips over such a simple outfit. It’s just a t-shirt and a leather jacket. Why are you nearly losing your mind?

“What are you doing here?” you ask and he gives you the most charming smile you’ve ever seen. It probably even puts your own smile to shame.

“I took a chance that you would decide in my favor,” he says and stands up.

“Confident,” you say, “but still, I was supposed to meet you at the restaurant since I hadn’t decided.”

“It’s a date. I’m picking you up,” he says and surprises you by placing a gentle kiss on your cheek . 

“Isn’t that chivalrous of you,” you comment while trying to convince your heart to stop beating out of your chest. 

“Shall we?” he asks and motions for you to walk ahead of him.

The chivalry doesn’t stop at picking you up at your hotel, unfortunately for you. He opens the door and then gently takes your hand. There’s a hand on your back when you step around him. He puts himself between you and any traffic. It’s the best anyone has ever treated you and you hate that you’re even noticing that. Now, you’re thinking that you should have stood him up for an entirely different reason.

Lunch feels like the most normal thing in the world. The real reason for being in this beautiful city doesn’t come up at all. Instead, you talk about life and interests. The type of music and food that you like. What you do in your free time. It’s exactly what you imagine first or second dates to be like. Not that you have much experience with actually dating. 

It only gets deeper from there with Wonwoo telling you more about himself. Not about how he really makes money, but it certainly helps you understand how he got involved and how he stays under the radar. As it turns out, he comes from a lot of money. He doesn’t say it in a way that sounds like he’s bragging. It makes sense, though. Everything about him screams old money, which fits the profile you put together. The way he carries himself, the way he speaks, the way he dresses. It doesn’t feel like someone that’s made his money from stealing art. You learn that he’s involved in a lot of charities, which surprises you a bit. You also learn that he sponsors students in a video game design program in his home country. There’s so much more to him than stealing art. In fact, that seems to be such a small part of who he is. It’s more than a little surprising, which is odd since it’s usually so hard to surprise you. It’s clear that he’s grown up around art. All this time and he’s just been hiding in plain sight. 

The two of you sit at lunch for so long that the servers finally, very politely, indicate that it’s time to leave. It’s never been this easy to sit with someone in your entire life. It’s a level of comfort that you should absolutely not feel with someone like Wonwoo. But, you can’t help it. You can’t help the way you feel around him. Can’t really fight the feelings that keep threatening to bubble up. 

The roads aren’t nearly as busy when you walk back towards your hotel. Even though it’s a tourist city, it still quiets down in the mid-afternoon when the local businesses close down. The tourists seem to use the time to also relax or take advantage of certain monuments being quieter. It lends itself to the comfortable silence that settles around you and Wonwoo on the walk. 

When you reach the lobby, you turn to face Wonwoo and your breath catches a little. The sun in July isn’t as strong, but it still provides a backlight like he’s some sort of dark angel. Which sounds insane, even if your head. There have been so many beautiful people in your life, yet this is the one that has you forgetting how to put words together. It’s like he knows exactly what you’re thinking when he steps into your space and takes your face in his hands. He kisses you so fiercely that you forget your name. It’s the kind of kiss that doesn’t look like much from the outside, but changes your entire world on the inside. 

“Well how am I supposed to go back to my room and leave you now?” you ask against his lips when he pulls back. You can feel the smile on his own lips when he kisses you again.

“Isn’t it obvious?” he whispers. 

“No,” you whisper back and kiss him again.

“I don’t want you to leave me,” he says. 

That makes you pull back sharply so that you can search his face. Does he realize how that sounds? It makes you wonder if he means more than just tonight. What is he trying to do to you? How many ways can one man make you reconsider everything you stand for? Nothing about his face looks smug or even insincere. In fact, he looks the way you imagine you feel. A little smitten and a lot unsure of what to do next. 

“And what would I do instead?” you ask, though you have an idea where he’s going.

“Go pack a bag of some of your things and come stay with me for the next few days,” he requests. It’s just bordering on a demand, even though it’s clearly your call. 

“Are you crazy? We barely know each other,” you protest without much heat. 

“What better way to get to know each other?” he counters. He grabs your hips, pulling you close to his body so he can wrap his arms around you. “And think about it. I can see you’re still not sure what you want to do. If you’re with me, you’ll know where I am at all times. I can’t get into any trouble while you’re still deciding.” 

“I suppose you do make a point,” you concede. 

“I have never done anything this reckless in my life. So, I’m just asking for a chance,” he shares.

It’s a little insane for him to say this is the most reckless thing he’s done in his life. Surely, stealing art is crazier than this. Which would make you lean towards not believing him if it weren’t for the voice in the back of your head. That little voice that agrees with him. You’ve put your life in danger more times than you can count, but saying yes to the man in front of you feels like the most dangerous idea yet. Maybe it’s because you know it’s not your body you’re putting on the line, but your heart. And maybe, just maybe, that’s what he means too. That he’s never taken the chance to chase someone like this. Or maybe you just want to believe that you might be special. 

All you can do is nod at him and watch the smile that breaks across his face. It’s honest, unguarded. It’s real. There’s nothing behind it except genuine happiness that you agreed to spend the next few days with him. Before you can second guess your decision, you give him one more kiss and nearly run up to your room. 

Being separated from him gives you the chance to actually catch your breath. To focus on what you need to bring with you. Since, apparently, you’re not going to reconsider if this is actually a good idea or not. You know you should. You know that this is another one of those moments that you chalk up to indecision when your actual decision could not be any louder. Again, you’re reminded of what you’re doing here. What you’re supposed to be doing here. This man is your enemy. He’s the person you’re supposed to be arresting and bringing into The Agency to face sentencing. You’re a good agent. You always put the mission ahead of yourself, your thoughts, your beliefs, or even your relationships. This isn’t a version of yourself that you recognize and it should stop you in your tracks.

Instead, you decide which dress to pack away and what pair of shoes looks best. For the first time in your life, you’re diving in first and asking questions later. Or never. 

It shouldn’t be surprising that you end up naked in Wonwoo’s bed minutes after crossing the threshold to his hotel room. Not with how things have gone so far for the two of you. Yet, what is surprising is that the sex is even better than the night before. You’re catching your breath, tucked into Wonwoo’s side, body tacky with sweat but so impossibly happy. His hand that’s around you absently traces patterns into your skin. It’s honestly like you’ve known him for years. It’s insane to realize how comfortable you feel when that’s not something you ever experience. Not like this. 

It’s also shocking to you how much this man wants to share with you. He carries on your chats from lunch as if he hadn’t just fucked you into his mattress yet again. Like this means more than some dirty sex holed up in a hotel in a foreign city. Makes you feel like you might actually mean something to him, which is a very dangerous feeling to have. Both of you know that this can’t mean more than what it is. At least, you think you know that and you think he might too. But, there’s a clear understanding that you won’t talk about it. Not now, at least. 

Wonwoo decides that he wants to take you somewhere fancy for dinner. The type of place that you would never consider going to while on a mission. Though, you’re always prepared for anything. When you were packing up your things in your hotel room, you even grabbed a couple nicer dresses. All they needed was a quick steam, which the hotel staff had been only too happy to accommodate. Any protests about it being too much fell on deaf ears. He was set and the two of you were going to a famous restaurant. All you had to do was shower and get ready. Your dress would be ready by the time you needed it. 

It’s clear you don’t really understand the limits to Wonwoo’s wealth, if there even are any, when you arrive at the restaurant. It’s the kind of place where you usually need reservations well in advance. It’s not the kind of place you can just show up at. Despite that, the host leads you back to a semi-private area where you’re tucked into a corner booth. It’s clearly one of the nicest tables in the place. You think you catch Wonwoo sliding the host something when he shakes their hand before he turns back to you. All thoughts go out the window when he slides in right next to you, not leaving any space. 

Wonwoo’s Spanish really is very remedial and so you help him decipher the menu and order. It gives you pause when there aren’t prices anywhere on the menu, but he’s quick to wave off any concerns. Insists that it’s his treat. You don’t want to think that’s something you could get used to. It isn’t like you have any real trouble affording nice things. Your salary is high and you don’t have much to spend money on. This is a different level, though. It’s even different from the times you’ve gone on a mission and charmed your target. That always feels temporary. Like you’re something of an imposter. You don’t get those feelings here with Wonwoo.

Letting him pick out which outfit you wore may have been a mistake. You discover this once you get your drinks and the waiter leaves you alone. His hand rests possessively on your thigh, against the bare skin of your leg exposed by the slit in your dress. His body is angled towards you and he’s encouraging you to continue telling your story. But, he has to know he’s distracting, too, with the way his hand slides further up your thigh. What started as arguably innocent ventures quickly into dangerous territory. 

“You were saying?” he prompts. His hand is inside the fabric of your dress now, keeping you from pressing your thighs together like you want to. 

“I, uh…” you stutter as he digs his hand into the soft flesh there. “Wonwoo, aren’t you worried?”

“About what?” he asks innocently.

“Getting caught,” you hiss and look down at your lap.

“No, sweetheart, I’m not worried,” he says and you glare at him, “because you’re going to be good for me and be quiet.”

“I don’t know…” you start and stop as soon as his pinky grazes along your entrance through your panties. “Fuck.” 

“Doesn’t seem like you actually want me to stop,” he points out.

“I, fuck, you know I don’t but there are people,” you say softly.

“I paid good money for this table. I don’t think we’ll be disturbed,” he tells you. 

“I…” you start. When he pulls his finger away, you nearly whine.

“I need to hear you say you want it,” he says.

“What?” you ask, a little louder than you intended.

“Use your words,” he directs and you glare.

“Fuck you,” you hiss, earning a chuckle out of him. 

“Not yet,” he retorts.

“Fine, yes. I want your fingers inside me here in this damn restaurant,” you say.

He’s expecting this answer. It’s written all over his face. This time, he doesn’t tease you. Doesn’t waste any time because you may not have much of it. He simply pushes your panties to the side and slides his first finger into you. The angle doesn’t make it easy but his fingers are long and slender, like they were built for something like this. It’s hard to keep from making a sound, so you try to do anything to distract yourself from the way he pumps into you. Or the way he adds a second finger so quickly. 

When you pick up your drink to take a sip from the straw, you watch his eyes on you. They seem to darken the second that you wrap your lips around the straw. His fingers pump into you even faster. And his lips are demanding on yours when you set the drink back down. You moan softly into his mouth without really considering if anyone is paying attention or if they can hear you. His tongue tangles with yours frantically while he tries to get you off right in that booth. 

This is new for you. You definitely didn’t think you would get so turned on by the fact that anyone could walk back over to see what you were doing. Anyone could hear the noises you’re making. Anyone could figure it out. When he feels that your pussy clenching around his fingers, he pulls away from the kiss. Leans his forehead against yours so that he can whisper filthy things in the space between you. Tells you how good you feel and how he loves watching you when you’re about to come. Moans about how tight you are. How pliant you are for him. Reminds you to be quiet. Tells you he can’t wait to taste you on his fingers. That’s what finally pushes you over the edge.

Your fingers grip the edge of the booth underneath you as you come hard and fast. He lazily guides you through it and then follows through by bringing his fingers to his lips. It’s so hot that you consider asking if you can just leave and go back to the room to be fucked properly. But, then your stomach rumbles and you think better of it. It’s only another few minutes before the first course arrives with a slightly knowing look from the waiter. After that first course, you excuse yourself to the bathroom to clean up, at least a little. You deem your panties ruined and just remove them, tucking them away into your bag. You’ll have to be a little more careful the rest of the night.

This dinner is somehow even better than the first and it has nothing to do with the place being expensive, though the food is definitely amazing. You also don’t think it really has anything to do with the way Wonwoo fingered you under the table. That’s definitely a first for you. Exhibitionism hasn’t been your thing before, but maybe he’s got you learning new things about yourself. It had only taken him a minute to realize that you weren’t wearing underwear anymore. It definitely took him another minute to regain his composure.

The thing that actually makes this dinner better than the first is the man across from you. With his walls down, the entire night just feels that much more. It’s one of the only times you’ve ever felt your own guard come down. It’s not smart and you don’t care. You think you probably look a little punch drunk to anyone that can see your table. Then, you meet Wonwoo’s eyes again and think he probably looks the same. You never really have the chance to enjoy dates, but even if you did, this would still probably top them all. It’s all the little things. The way Wonwoo carefully brushes a strand of hair out of your face. The way he offers you a bite off his own plate when you say it looks good. The way he brings your knuckles up to his lips and presses feather light kisses to them. 

“Are you going to insist on ordering dessert here too?” you ask after the main course. 

“I was thinking we might have dessert back in our room,” he says and you raise an eyebrow.

“Our room?” you question.

“Don’t test me,” he cautions. 

“I wouldn’t dare,” you say and lean into him to press a slow kiss to his cheek. Your hand brushes over his lap as a way to get closer.

“Is this you not testing me?” he asks when your hand brushes across his lap again.

“What? You can make me come on your fingers but I can’t tease you a little?” you ask innocently.

Wonwoo grabs your hand and anchors it on your own thigh. “We’re getting out of here and then you can show your appreciation however you want. We don’t need to give them more of a show.” 

It seems like it takes an eternity to pay the bill (which Wonwoo doesn’t let you see) and get a cab back to the hotel. The promise of something else simmers between you the entire time. Wonwoo keeps a hand on you the entire time. A hand on your lower back out of the restaurant, fingers intertwined with yours in the cab, an arm around you walking into the hotel. When you get into the elevator, he pulls you back against his chest as more people join. He masks it as affection and presses a kiss to your cheek, but you feel the desire beneath it. 

The moment you cross into the room, you slip out of your shoes and turn around to press a kiss to Wonwoo’s lips. The tension between the two of you is thick and it’s hard to remind yourself to come up for a breath. He overwhelms every one of your senses. There’s nothing but him in every corner of your brain when he kisses you like that. 

It’s almost embarrassing when he breaks the kiss and you chase his lips. “How about dessert?”

“I thought that was just your way of saying…” you start and he directs your attention to the table. There’s an assortment of fruit, whipped cream, and melted chocolate there. 

You’re a little hesitant when he starts to walk to the table. It just feels incredibly intimate, which is true for a lot of what's happened with Wonwoo. But, this still feels different. It feels like more, once again. Wonwoo realizes that you’re not behind him and turns back to you. He closes the space between you yet again and places a hand on your cheek, impossibly soft. 

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” he asks. 

“I’ve never done…this,” you say softly into the quiet between you and him. 

“Pretty sure we’ve already fucked several times,” Wonwoo says to lighten the mood.

“No, I mean, this…I don’t know. The desserts and the whipped cream and chocolate. It just feels, I don’t know, intimate,” you admit. 

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” he assures you. 

It’s absolutely insane that you’re hesitating. It doesn’t have to be some super intimate thing. It’s not like Wonwoo hasn’t already seen every inch of you and gotten to know your body better than anyone should in that period of time. But, this is far beyond the point where you can convince yourself any part of this is for the mission anymore. This isn’t just to keep him close. This is no longer indecision, as much as you want to pretend that it is.

“Is this your go-to move, then? Have a bunch of sweets delivered to the hotel room and seduce people with being all gentle?” you ask.

“I’ve definitely never done this before,” he says and it’s too honest. 

Instead of answering him you just kiss him because it’s the only answer you can think of. Somehow, knowing that this is different for him too makes it feel less overwhelming for you. You drag him back towards the table until you’re leaning against it. Your back arches into him as he licks into your mouth. His hands wrap around you to keep you tight against his body. He pulls away again and you’re ready for it this time. 

Wonwoo reaches an arm behind you and dips a strawberry in some of the chocolate. He brings it to your lips and watches intently as you get your mouth around it. The first bite sends a little bit of juice and chocolate over your lips. Just as you’re about to wipe it away, Wonwoo pulls the remainder of the strawberry back and kisses it away. It’s like that one action unlocks any hang ups you have. You twist around to scoop up some whipped cream with your finger. Your eyes lock on Wonwoo as you slowly lick it off. With it still in your mouth, you kiss him hard, enjoying the way your tongues dance and the tastes. 

The two of you take turns dipping fruit and feeding it to each other. The kisses become more and more desperate in between feeding each other. It’s a little messy, though, so you unbutton Wonwoo’s shirt and slide it off his arms. He undoes your dress to slide it off your body, removing your bra along the way. You rid him of his pants and briefs as well so that you’re not the only one standing there naked. 

When you reach back to get more fruit, Wonwoo grabs your hand to stop you. There’s a question in your eyes that he leaves unanswered as he moves things out of the way behind you. Then, he’s sitting you on the edge of the table and reaching for the whipped cream, which also answers your question. He puts some of the topping on your breast and sucks into your skin to lick it off you. Your legs part on their own as you lean back on the table to encourage him to get closer. He swirls his tongue around your nipple before softly nipping at your skin. Without warning, he bites into the flesh of your breast and laves over the spot to soothe you. 

Food should not be this sexy. Maybe it’s just that it’s Wonwoo tempting you, but you’ve never been this turned on. His tongue is everywhere across your breasts and your stomach. Covering you in kisses while also licking the whipped cream or chocolate off of you. Your nails scratch down his back each time he nips into your skin. Somehow the sensations are everywhere all at once. You wrap your legs around his waist to anchor him closer to you. 

“I need you inside me,” you whine out with Wonwoo kissing along your neck.

“Are you sure you’re ready for that?” he asks into your skin.

“Feel for yourself,” you encourage. 

Wonwoo pulls away from your neck and looks at you with lust. He presses his fingers to your mouth and you suck them in without even thinking about it. They’re sweet as you swirl your tongue around them. “Fuck, that’s hot.” 

As if it’s confirmation, he ruts against you, seemingly hard just from all the making out and the food. You pull his fingers from your mouth and guide them to your already dripping pussy. He’s not the only one that’s gotten insanely turned on. As soon as you guide his fingers through your folds he groans again. 

Neither one of you is in the mood to wait and he doesn’t waste any time angling his hand so he can pump his fingers inside you. Just presses two fingers right in and adds a third to try and open you up. It makes you scream out, praising his fingers with how quickly they work you over. He removes his hand entirely too quickly and you’re whining at the loss. Wonwoo runs a hand along his cock, pumping a couple times and catching some of the precum to spread it along his length. It’s not enough, but you don’t really care right now. 

“Please, Wonwoo, I need you,” you beg.

“Feeling a little desperate, princess?” he teases, that cocky smirk back on him. 

“Just fuck me already,” you whine. 

Wonwoo doesn’t say anything else, just lines himself up and presses his tip into you. It stretches you out and you’re a little surprised that he goes so slowly. Then, you realize that it feels like more when he’s inching into you like this. His eyes watch you for any signs of discomfort. He leans forward and catches your lips in the neediest kiss of the night when he bottoms out in you. You lean back onto your elbows, bringing him along with you. The kisses get sloppier as he starts to thrust into you. 

He pulls away from you to reposition and presses your leg up so that he can get deeper. You let your leg fall over his arm so that you don’t have to hold it up. The moans between the two of you are loud enough to drown out the sound of skin on skin as he fucks into you hard. You can’t help it, though, and you throw your head back in pleasure.

“Look at me,” he directs roughly. 

You moan in response but tilt your head back towards him. It feels like a chore and that’s when it occurs to you. Taking hold of his free hand, you move it to your throat. For a second, his eyes go wide and his pace slows. He’s searching your face for a clue before he grabs your throat a little more forcefully.

“Are you sure?” he asks.

“Yes, fuck,” you groan out. “I’ll tap you if it’s too much.” 

“You’re so fucking hot,” he utters, flexing his fingers on your throat.

Somehow, Wonwoo seems to know the perfect amount of pressure. It’s just tight enough that it makes it a little harder to breathe, but not so much that it’s actually choking you. He seems more comfortable than when he did it the first time. It also makes it easier to keep your eyes on him the way he wants. Everything feels heightened and it’s entirely too soon that you’re rushing to your high. You clench your walls around Wonwoo and he fucks you harder, groaning at the increased tightness.

“Gonna come all over my dick again?” he asks and you moan. 

You can’t really say anything and you don’t want to. This is all you need. Your hand winds down your body and you look at Wonwoo with a question in your eyes.

“Go ahead, baby, touch yourself,” he directs you. 

Asking for permission to do anything is unlike you, but there’s something about wanting to please this man that drives you to all sorts of new things. You rub your clit in time with his thrusts and it seems like only moments pass before you’re tipping over that edge. 

Heavy breaths eventually subside to find Wonwoo slowly, almost lazily, fucking into you. His hands are now both on your hips as he waits for you to come down. You sit up with him still inside you and kiss him, slow and full of all sorts of unspoken things.

“You really are fucking amazing,” you say, voice a little hoarse. “You can move faster.”

“I was thinking we might need to get into the shower,” he says with a smirk, pressing a finger to your skin. You’re about to object when you watch him pull it away and it sticks. 

“Maybe I can take care of you in there, then,” you say and kiss him softly. 

His eyes seem to light up a little at that. He slides out of you gently and walks slowly into the bathroom. You meant what you said. Shower sex is definitely not your thing because it’s never as sexy as people make it out to be. It can be slippery and there aren’t really any good positions. That doesn’t mean you can’t help him out a little. 

Wonwoo has other ideas first, it seems. Once the water is warm enough, both of you get in and he lathers up a loofah to gently wash all the stickiness from your body. It’s gentle in a way you’re not expecting and impossibly thoughtful. You relax against his back with his arms around you while he makes sure all the remnants are gone. 

When you’re clean, you turn around to face him and kiss him hard. The water falling on your back creates the perfect sensation with the heat between the two of you. He gathers you against his body, hands sliding down to grip your ass. It’s all you can do not to melt right on the spot. You think that you could probably kiss this man for the rest of your life and never get bored. Or never fully prepare yourself for the way it makes you feel. 

You drop to your knees and take his cock in your hand. He leans back against the wall of the shower as he looks down on you. It’s crazy to you how turned on this man gets (or stays) just from kissing or skin contact. No matter what, his body always seems to be ready for you. You run your tongue along his length and swirl your tongue around the tip. You’re impatient and you know he’s been waiting, so you don’t waste any time before you suck him into your mouth. You relax your throat and swallow as much of his cock as you’re able to, alternating between bobbing and hollowing out your cheeks. 

“You look so good looking up at me like that,” he groans. 

You hum around his dick and Wonwoo grabs the back of your head to anchor you there. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes before he releases you and you can get a breath. Even in this position, you can tell that you actually have control over this man. It’s a great feeling since he’s been in control every other time. His hips buck when you suck him back into you. It’s definitely a powerful feeling. The groans also tell you what you already know, you’re good at this. He’s putty in your hands. 

With a few more bobs, he’s coming down your throat and then slumping back against the shower wall. It doesn’t stop him from helping you up off your knees. You pepper light kisses along his collarbones before he surprises you and pulls you into another kiss. It’s never been your experience that a man wants to kiss you like that, but he doesn’t shy away. 

“We better get out of this shower before we run through all the hot water,” he says between kisses.

“You’re right,” you say with a sigh. 

The two of you step out of the shower and Wonwoo is quick to wrap you up in a towel. It takes everything in you to tell your heart to calm down. You know Wonwoo feels all the same things you do. Even if he's not free with vocalizing his emotions, his actions tell you exactly what he’s thinking. If you know where to look, that is. You’re realizing that you definitely know where to work. 

Twenty minutes later, your skin care routine is done and you’re curled up in bed in one of Wonwoo’s oversized t-shirts. You know your alarm is going to be too early tomorrow since you need to check in with Seungcheol, but all you want to do tonight is curl up and talk more with this incredibly interesting man. 

Something seems to shift now that you’re holed up in Wonwoo’s hotel room with him for the next however many days. Before, he seemed hesitant to talk about the real reason you two crossed paths. You’re not sure what causes the change or why he trusts that you’re not going to just turn around and burn him. Maybe it’s just that you haven’t done it yet. 

“What made you want to start stealing art?” you ask while the two of you are sitting outside on the balcony. This room really is too nice. It almost makes it hard to leave and explore. 

“I don’t know if it was that I wanted to steal art,” he chuckles. 

“Okay, how did you start, then?” you ask with an affectionate eye roll. 

“It’s going to sound stupid,” he says with an uncharacteristic shyness. “I guess, I don’t know, I grew up in this house where nobody ever seemed to care what I was doing. I stole the first piece from my parents and sold it off to someone I’d met at this underground club. I figured my parents would catch me and then at least I’d have their attention for a minute.”

“I’m guessing they didn’t catch you,” you comment.

“They didn’t even notice it was gone,” he says with a chuckle. “How old were you?” you ask.

“16,” he answers immediately.

“So you’ve been doing this…?” you start, doing the math in your head.

“12 years, yeah,” he says. “It took awhile to get to the point I’m at now. I think for a while I was figuring that my parents would somehow catch on and give a shit about my life. By the time I was 19, I was really good at it and I’d made a lot of contacts. I still moved in all those circles so I never looked out of place at a gallery or a museum. Nobody looked twice at me.”

“Did it ever get lonely?” you ask and Wonwoo regards you for a moment. “I just mean that you were still part of all these circles. You still went to all these parties and it seems like none of them knew you at all. You were hiding in plain sight because nobody knew you well enough to see it.”

“I had the networks of people that I sold to or accepted jobs from,” he says.

“But everything I’ve ever seen says that you rarely met with those people in person. It was always online contact and leaving pieces somewhere after the money had been wired,” you share.

“I guess your agency got a few things right,” he mumbles.

“It sounds loney,” you say sympathetically.

“I wish you were a little less observant,” he says like he’s trying for a joking tone. 

It’s immediately obvious that he’s a little tired and definitely lonely. You can’t really imagine that type of life. Sure, you’ve been working on your own or with a single partner for your entire adult life. But, you’ve still been part of an organization. There are people that know you at your core. There are people that you can turn to when everything in life feels like it sucks. No matter how bad things get, you know there are people out there who can support you.

Almost involuntarily, a series of images pop into your head. Wonwoo in a suit at a charity gala, the type of person that everyone wants to approach. You can imagine people whispering behind their hands about going to speak to him or ask him to dance. Maybe trying to approach him at the bar. Then you see him just as clearly at home afterwards, alone and sitting on his couch with a drink in hand. You see him perusing a museum to get the lay of the land so that he can steal it later. Once again, alone. You see how he probably sits at home communicating with all his potential buyers. 

Wonwoo reads the look on your face and assures you that it’s probably not as bad as you’re imagining things. Yes, he admits that he’s lonely sometimes and that he’s alone more than he’s with other people. It’s hard for him to let anyone in. He doesn’t want to have to account for his time or trust that they won’t blow his cover. There’s nobody in his life that he can be totally himself with, at least not until meeting you. But, he insists that it hasn’t been so bad. Mostly, he prefers to be on his own anyway. He likes the quiet and the solitude. Likes to be able to enjoy his down time however he likes. He gets enough socialization when he goes to events as he’s expected to. 

Which brings up a question. After over a decade of doing everything solo, why has he trusted you with all of this now? His answer comes more immediately than you would expect, yet it makes sense. You have something to lose here, too. Possibly even more than he does. After all, there have been a lot of teams that have been close to unraveling his mysterious identity. You, on the other hand, are supposed to be tracking him down. Not spending time locked away in his hotel room with him. That brings you up a little short because he’s right and you’re not planning on going anywhere. 

He admits that you intrigue him. All his life, Wonwoo has appreciated a good puzzle or a good challenge. You present both to him, though it hasn’t been as much of a challenge to get you to give him a chance as he expected. It is a challenge to try and unravel you. To try and figure out what made you say yes to the date and what makes you stay now. You also meet him on a level that nobody ever has before. You nearly blush at the way he describes your intelligence and how he feels more turned on by your brain than anyone before. Normally something like that would make you cringe. But, somehow Wonwoo makes it sound both sexy and endearing. You’re just as challenged by him, too, so maybe you get it. 

It also brings up some very conflicting feelings in you because it’s a reminder that you have a life entirely separate from him. You have a life that doesn’t allow you to account for this time. At some point, you have to make a final choice. It’s way too late to just turn Wonwoo in without any sort of repercussion. It’s too late to act like this is all just in the name of bringing down one of the most difficult targets you’ve had to track. In the name of getting to know Wonwoo better, you’ve also shared a lot about yourself. A lot that someone like Seungcheol would be able to clock immediately as being true. Every moment you stay with Wonwoo makes your future more complicated. Things are already too hazy. 

“Okay enough heavy stuff,” you declare and stand. “Let’s go do something.”

“Such as?” he prompts. 

“We’re in a beautiful city, let’s go see some of it,” you suggest.

Wonwoo wants to take a minute to actually plan something, but you veto that. He’s definitely not the spontaneous type, which you figured out before you were even sure who he was. It makes more sense now, knowing who he is. So it feels like more of a win that he relents and agrees to just go with the flow. It’s not as if you’ll be flying totally blind anyway. You did a lot of research before coming down for the mission and you know a lot of the places to see, both tourist places and some that are off the beaten path. 

Once you’re outside of the hotel room, things feel different in a way you can’t quite put your finger on. Everything in the hotel room feels real in the sense of getting to know each other. The conversations can be heavy and there’s that constant need to rip each other’s clothes off. Being outside exploring a foreign city feels real in an entirely different way. None of the conversations are heavy since you’re just appreciating the sights. But, you and Wonwoo trade off in taking pictures of each other (or even snap some together) and it feels like a glimpse at another life. It isn’t a fantasy world because it does feel real, but it doesn’t feel like an actual reality either. It almost feels like a mission you’re on where you and him would pretend to be a couple. You have to remind yourself this is actually a mission and you’re running around with your target because Wonwoo isn’t your partner.

When you’re in Plaza de Mayo, you take a step back to allow Wonwoo to purchase something to eat. It’s too cute to watch him stumble through his Spanish, constantly looking over at you as if asking for help. All you can do is smile as he mixes up hombre and hambre. The older woman putting the food together only smiles softly. There’s something incredibly cute about watching this stoic man get flushed over ordering in another language. 

The next few days follow mostly the same pattern. You wake up earlier than Wonwoo so that you can pretend to work on the mission and actually check in with Seungcheol. Wonwoo pretends that he’s still asleep sometimes. Other times, he gets up and works on his own things. It’s cute that he’ll do anything to make it seem like you have privacy. Breakfast in the room always comes next because it’s an easy way to get ready for the day. 

The days themselves are all a little bit different. You see the Piramide de Mayo, the Floralis Generica, the monuments to Juana Azurduy and General Jose de San Martin, Teatro Colon, the planetarium and several other interesting sights. The planetarium is a personal favorite of yours because it’s just kind of weird in an affectionate way. It’s hard to truly pick a favorite though because each new stop teaches you more about the local culture. It’s the kind of place that just makes you want to fall in love with it. There’s so much beauty and so much to appreciate. Each new stop also seems to involve learning something new about Wonwoo and somehow him trying his hand at Spanish again, only to fail. You’re wondering if he does it just to entertain you. 

While you’re seeing all the tourist spots, you take time to see the things the locals recommend as well. Sometimes that’s hole-in-the-wall food places or stands that someone mentions. Other times it’s a park that’s too out of the way for tourists. Even other times still, it’s a hidden access point to the beach. Thankfully, it’s still cool out and getting Wonwoo to agree to the beach isn’t difficult. You idly wonder what it would be like to try and get him to visit the beach in January when it’s the dead of summer. 

You want to try as many local dishes as you can while you’re there, too. Given his way, Wonwoo would probably eat in the hotel room just as much as out of it, but you don’t know when you’re going to get this chance again. So, even though he’s worn out from spending so much time around people, he lets you drag him out again every night. He even seems to enjoy himself.

At the start of whatever this is, it was always you asking Wonwoo all the questions and trying to volunteer as little about yourself as possible. You’re still an agent and you’re still supposed to be after him. The least you can do, while you’re totally ignoring your mission, is try to better understand Wonwoo and his motivations. Even if you don’t end up turning him in, it's an invaluable experience to get to look into the mind of a criminal. When will you get another chance like this? When will you be this close to someone to ask personal questions? No part of you even considers that he’s lying to you. You’re positive that he answers everything truthfully.

Somewhere along the line, it shifts. Maybe because you know everything you want to know about the man across from you. Or maybe because you genuinely feel comfortable about him. Either way, he’s the one that’s asking you questions now. Surprisingly, though, he doesn’t want to know anything about your work. He doesn’t seem to care about any of that. There’s a nagging thought that thinks he might just be trying to make you comfortable. You try to quickly brush it away, though, and just answer any of the personal questions he asks. Wonwoo wants to know the simple things like where you grew up, what your family was like, and what you wanted to do when you were younger. The things that allow him to really know you. It’s terrifying. 

By the time you get back to the hotel that night, you’re exhausted. It feels like it’s been a never ending span of days in the best way. You collapse on the bed without changing. All you manage to do is take off your shoes. Wonwoo leans over you and kisses you, softly at first. But, like every other kiss with him, it leaves you gasping for air after a minute.

It’s amazing how he seems to take your breath away and even more amazing how he always seems like he’s ready to tear your clothes off. You’ve never had someone like him in your life. But, that also brings you back to reality. Wonwoo asked you to give him a few days staying in his hotel room. It’s definitely been longer than that without either of you seeming to notice. There’s a level of comfort that neither of you talk about given that this all has an expiration date. And that expiration date is rapidly approaching. 

Staying with Wonwoo turns out to be longer than either of you planned and neither of you has a complaint about it. You’ve been checking in with Seungcheol every morning and Wonwoo pretends not to listen. It’s been like living in a little bubble where reality isn’t a concern. 

That’s just the thing, though, isn’t it? This isn’t real life, not for you. This isn’t something that lasts long term or that you can even sustain. The reality is still there. Wonwoo is one of the most infamous art thieves to ever live and you work for a secret agency tasked with bringing criminals like him to justice. You’re not exactly sure what the last however many days have been. All you know is this is just a break from reality. A brief glimpse into an alternate life that can never be. It’s been amazing and something you won’t ever forget. You’re hoping that you’re both on the same page about that, at least.

“I should probably go back to my hotel today,” you say. 

Wonwoo looks up from across the room where he’s reading while you pretend to work on your case. It helps to at least log in to the system. “To get more stuff?”

“I can’t stay here forever,” you point out. 

“No, I expect at some point we’ll leave and head to the next place,” he agrees with a shrug. 

“We?” you ask, eyebrows flying up. 

“Yes, we,” he says like suddenly you’re slow on the uptake. “I’ve got a few places in mind that I’d love to take you, but it’s really up to you.” 

“Wonwoo,” you start and your heart sinks.

You are definitely not on the same page. Probably not even in the same book, if you’re honest. Everything over the past days with him has been amazing. The perfect little escape from your reality. But, that’s all it’s been: an escape. Or maybe that’s all you’ve let yourself think it was. Anything else seems like entirely too much. His face drops as he watches you.

“You’re not coming with me,” he realizes.

“I didn’t even know you would want me to!” you state, too loud for the space.

“How could you not? I’ve been telling you all the places that I wanted you to see,” he says and that hits you harder than a physical blow. He’s been giving you all the signs that this isn’t just a bubble.

“I didn’t think you were serious,” you point out.

“Clearly,” he says, voice thick with disappointment. 

“Wonwoo, come on. It’s not like I can just, what? Run away?” you say.

“Oh, no, there’s a whole life waiting for you back at your precious agency,” he says with derision. 

“It’s all I’ve ever known,” you plead.

“And I’ve shown you that there’s more to life than whatever this is for you,” he counters.

“I can’t just leave them,” you say with a shake of your head.

That seems to make Wonwoo angrier than you expect. “No, of course not. How silly of me. You have to get back to your handler that so clearly loves you.” 

“Seungcheol does not love me. We’re friends, sure, but that’s it,” you disagree.

“Let’s pretend that’s true and it’s normal for a handler to speak to you the way he does. Or that it’s normal for him to worry so much about your safety. Who are you going back to apart from him? Who’s waiting for you?” Wonwoo asks.

The questions wash over you like acid rain. Painful and harsh and unrelenting. The worst part is that he’s right. You have wondered if there are some feelings there from Seungcheol. You also don’t have anyone waiting for you. It’s really a half-life, if you’re being honest. Less than a half-life, probably. The past few days with Wonwoo are the most alive you’ve felt since you were a child, before joining the agency. 

“I can’t just…this is my job, Wonwoo. And you’re an art thief. A very famous one and…” you start.

“Have I stolen anything here?” he asks and that brings you up short.

“Well, no, of course not. You’ve been with me,” you say simply.

“And I will leave this city without stealing. I will switch careers entirely if it’s that important, though it doesn’t seem like it is since you haven’t turned me in,” he says and it’s almost like he’s talking to himself. “I’ve been all over the globe trying to feel something. Trying for anything. I started stealing because I could. I wanted to get the attention my parents never gave me. I kept going because I was looking for a challenge, which it is, at least sometimes. I was looking for someone, I think. Then, I find you and you’re everything I didn’t know to ask for. But, you’re telling me some job where you can’t even have a life is more important than this? That my job, which I’m completely willing to give up, is too much of a barrier?”

“I have a life,” you scoff.

“Really?” Wonwoo challenges and folds his arms. “When was the last time you went on a real date? Not with a target, but a real date just with someone you wanted to know? When’s the last time you let yourself just breathe and explore a city? When’s the last time you did something just because you wanted to?”

“Plenty of people are married to their jobs,” you begin.

“I thought you were brave, you know,” Wonwoo muses. “I thought you were someone who would realize how rare this is. It’s not like everyone is lucky enough to meet a person that completes them like this. I guess I was wrong. I guess all I was really good for was fucking you and that’s all it was.”

“Of course that’s not all it was,” you disagree. There are tears threatening to spill over. This isn’t at all how you imagined it going. You weren’t prepared for him to try to fight for you. “The last few days with you have been everything I never thought I’d experience. But, it hasn’t been real, Wonwoo. It can’t be real. Life doesn’t work that way.” 

“Why can’t it?” he fires at you.

“Because I don’t deserve it!” you scream, tears finally streaming down your face. “Because you don’t know my scars. You don’t know the things I’ve done. You don’t know the mistakes I’ve made. You don’t know that I have demons that are constantly chasing me.” 

“I’m a fucking criminal,” he points out. “Who am I to judge?”

“Exactly,” you agree but rush to finish your thought before Wonwoo can interject. “You don’t…question the decisions you’ve made. You stand on everything you’ve done. But, you also do so much good with charities and helping students and just giving back. Plus, I’ve looked at your crimes. You only ever stole from the rich to sell to other rich people.”

“Yet you still were sent to chase me,” he points out. 

“Yeah, who do you think pays our salaries?” you ask flatly. “My point is that…I don’t know. I’m standing here across from you and I feel like I’m the infinitely worse person in this situation.” 

“It really can’t be that bad,” he reasons.

“I’ve taken lives, Wonwoo. More than I can count. And without even questioning if our reasoning was solid for taking them out. I’ve used my body in ways that I may never recover from, thinking it was my choice at the time. I’ve done what I was told and I’ve been good at it. Too good, maybe,” you say. You’re talking to yourself more than him at this point. “I’m the one they send when they don’t want a record. I’m the one they send when nobody else can do it. I’ve spent the last 10 years of my life training and doing what I was told. It’s given me scars that you can’t see and won’t ever heal. All I know is this. They’re not just going to let me go. And even if they did, you don’t deserve all the baggage that I come with. You’re not a bad guy.”

“And you think you are? A bad guy?” he asks.

“I know I am,” you say.

“That’s all you are if that’s all you see, but I see so much more,” he argues. 

“I still can’t just ask them to walk away,” you press.

“I wasn’t suggesting that you ask,” he says. “You deserve a chance to start fresh. To see what you can be without the weight of the world hanging over your head.”

“I don’t deserve anything more than what I have now,” you disagree.

“What about love? Do you deserve that?” he asks, changing directions.

“I don’t know,” you admit.

“And me? Do I deserve love?” he asks.

“Yes, without question,” you answer immediately.

“So give me the chance to experience love,” he begs. “I never thought I’d love anyone and I’ve never taken this kind of chance on anyone. But, I’m asking you for a chance. Just one more.” 

There’s so much tension in the air between you. So many things still left unsaid and so much emotion. The air between you and him seems to crackle. A storm brews behind his eyes as he waits for you to answer him. It seems insane to think that he could feel that for you after such a short time. But, really, what do you know? You have unquestionably never been in love before, not really. There’s never been the time or space for it in your line of work. Relationships never seem to get deeper because you’re always keeping secrets. Can’t ever tell them what you really do for work. And then there’s Wonwoo. He knows so much about you already and even though it’s barely scratched the surface, it’s still more honest than you’ve ever been. He doesn’t want to run away and that scares you more than any mission you’ve ever had.

It’s just…it’s too much to decide now. You spend your whole life having to make split second decisions, yet can’t about this. Don’t have the data that you have on missions. Don’t know the pros and cons. It’s uncharted territory. It’s scary in a way you’ve never experienced. You’ve stared down the barrel of too many guns and this still feels infinitely more terrifying. Maybe he can love you after such a short amount of time because he seems to realize what you’re going to say before you say it. 

“Don’t,” he says softly when you open your mouth. “I’m going to leave the day after tomorrow. I’m going to set the flight to leave at 1 in the afternoon. That gives you time to change your mind.”

“And if I don’t reach you before then?” you ask softly.

“Don’t ever expect to find me again,” he says with a finality that surprises you. When you meet his gaze, it’s harder than you’re expecting. “I really care about you and I’d love you to come with me. But I know how stubborn you are. It’s part of why I love you so much. So I’m leaving my heart open until the day after tomorrow. Then it’s over.”

“You’re an amazing person, Wonwoo,” you say and press a kiss to his cheek. “You’ve challenged a lot of my ideas about right and wrong. I’ll never forget that.” 

“I’m not accepting this as goodbye. I’ll still hope to see you before I leave,” he says and presses the gentlest kiss to your forehead. 

Your throat is too tight to say anything in response to that. All you can do is gather up your things and head out of the hotel room. Everything in your body feels tired from the unexpected heaviness of the conversation. It hurts to see Wonwoo looking so hurt. As crazy as it sounds, you do mean that he deserves the absolute best. You also meant it that made you rethink a lot of your preconceived notions. You actually questioned things for the first time in your adult life. Despite all of that, you still walk right out of the hotel room.

You spend nearly every minute after walking out of Wonwoo’s hotel room considering his offer. Go as far as scheduling your flight out of Buenos Aires for the same time as his. Genuinely, you’re not sure what you want to do. At least Seungcheol understood failing the mission. Somehow, he still sees it as a win that nothing was stolen from anywhere in the city while you were there. He assumes that your presence somehow spooked the notorious art thief. Thankfully he doesn’t realize just how right he is. 

The biggest surprise is that Chan, the slightly overeager agent from the flight down, will be meeting you when you get on the plane. He’s only wrapping up a second mission that popped up in the area. The Agency is sending him along so that you can debrief about your actual mission and start looping him in going forward. Apparently, as great as you are and as (almost) perfect as your record is, the agency still wants to have someone for you to work with when you need them. Since that can’t be Seungcheol, he’s recommending a promising younger agent. This apparently also includes you being the one to tell him all of this yourself. 

The airport is busy when you get there, an unsurprising side effect of planning flights during the afternoon. There’s also the fact that private planes have to leave from the international airport, which is always somewhat packed. Getting through customs and security is surprisingly smooth and soon you’re going to have to face your literal crossroads. 

In one direction is the familiar. Nothing about working for The Agency is easy. There’s a sense of routine to it, though. A sense of generally knowing what your days or weeks or even months will look like. You know how to make coffee in the shitty break room when you’re actually on site (a rarity). You know how to play nice with the other agents. You know how all the tech works. And you’re good at the missions themselves. That’s just to say you don’t have to learn anything new. You’re lucky enough to have a semi-boss that you get along with. There’s a sense of routine to everything from mission briefings to flights to the missions themselves. There’s comfort in knowing you don’t really have to make the decisions. Sure, you have to figure out which course to take on the ground with a mission. But, that usually only means picking option A or B. All of the possible courses of action come in the briefing. You just have to evaluate the factors and figure out which pre-determined option fits best. It’s easy. As fucked up as it might be to admit, you like doing something that you know you’re good at. It’s nice to get praised for constantly succeeding. It’s the easy decision.

And in the other direction…well, it’s the unknown. Being with Wonwoo has been nothing short of the best feeling of your life. The most alive you’ve ever felt. It’s kind of crazy but part of you thinks you may love him. Can see how the whole future plays out, even if it’s not crystal clear. The two of you could start over somewhere new where he doesn’t have to steal art and you don’t have to chase criminals with questionable methods. Both of you have the funds (even if he’s better set up) to start over. Both of you clearly have the skills to disappear into the wind, too. It’s not like your legal name exists anywhere anymore. Very few people even know it, not that you would go back to it. 

It’s easy to get lost in the daydream. As much as you love the sun of Buenos Aires, you can’t imagine Wonwoo in a place like that during the actual summer. Everything about him makes you think of somewhere cooler, somewhere that you’re not constantly sweating. That would let you take breaks to sunnier weather. Places where you could soak up the sun while he took refuge under an umbrella, watching you with all the affection in the world. Actually, you can picture visiting a lot of places with him. He would be the perfect travel partner to see all the beautiful corners of the world that you’ve never been able to appreciate. It’s like going somewhere for a business trip. You’re there working, not to appreciate everything around you. 

There’s something kind of poetic about being at an airport as an actual crossroads in your life. It’s like you can get on a plane going anywhere. Quite literally, since you’re not sure where Wonwoo’s plane is going. Not that it really matters. If that’s the path you pick, then it’s for him rather than the destination. 

The only question left is whether you’re ready to leave your entire life behind. Are you ready to say goodbye to the agency that saved you? Are you ready to cut yourself off from the few people who actually know you and accept you as you are? Can you live without having any closure on that part of your life? Would you feel guilty that Seungcheol would be left with a million questions about what happened to you? Or would it hurt you to know that he would blame himself for your disappearance somehow? Then again, maybe he would know, on some level, that you just finally reached the point of needing to walk away. That’s something you and him have talked about before, in the early hours of the morning after too much to drink. What would you do if you could walk away from this life? What would life after The Agency look like? 

With a deep breath, you pick your path and you don’t look back. That’s the only way you know you’ll have the strength in your decision. 

i hope you all enjoyed this as much as i enjoyed writing it! please reblog or comment and let me know 💕

[slut4nicholas]

𝙋𝙀𝙍𝙎𝙊𝙉𝘼𝙇 𝙏𝙍𝘼𝙄𝙉𝙀𝙍 | 𝙉𝙄𝘾𝙃𝙊𝙇𝘼𝙎 𝘼𝙇𝙀𝙓𝘼𝙉𝘿𝙀𝙍 𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙑𝙀𝙕

a/n: I'm currently awake at 4 am and unable to sleep ive been having some thoughts that I needed to release, and writing this is helping me feel better. this is my first time writing something explicit, so I apologize if it's not the best. please forgive any grammar mistakes. i hope you enjoy reading it. <3

summary: you are searching for a personal trainer and come across an online ad. after calling the trainer, he arranges a session at his home gym. things start to take a spicy turn between the two of you.

warning: smut! 18+ oral (m receiving), spanking, getting manhandled, fingering, pet names like “doll, babygirl” squirting, praising, degrading, rough!!

˖⋆࿐໋

when you move to california to pursue your dream of becoming a model or influencer, you leave behind your family, job, and friends. unfortunately, the move also means leaving behind your favorite place: the gym.

many label me a gym rat, but I simply embrace my love for the discipline it brings and the amazing confidence it gives me in everything I wear.

in the evening, while browsing through tiktok , i suddenly felt a wave of boredom. i let out a sigh, turned off my phone, and began searching for an engaging activity. normally, in situations like this, i would change into my favorite workout attire and head to the gym. however, as i am not at home, i need to find a gym or a personal trainer of my own in this new location.

i opened my macbook and started searching for personal trainers in my new area. I came across a profile of a man who seems to have a lot of experience in the gym and is conveniently located nearby. i must admit, he looks delicious. i decided to message him to arrange a meeting and inquire about his session rates. he responded promptly with his pricing and availability, and it turns out he's available tomorrow morning. as we exchanged goodbyes over text, my mind couldn't help but focus on meeting him in person. if I'm already feeling this way based on some online pictures, i can only imagine how I'll feel when we meet face to face.

i wake up suddenly to the sound of my alarm. as i pick up my phone, i see that it's 5:30. the familiar feeling of nervousness churns in my stomach as i realize that I'm in a new city, about to meet someone new. i made sure to wake up extra early just to ensure that i look my best.

after my shower, i breeze through my skincare routine and add a touch of mascara and some lip balm. I'm just heading to the gym, so nothing too over-the-top, i tell myself. i apply a light moisturizing lotion and a spritz of my favorite perfume. i slip into my matching black bra and thong, then into my sleek all-black workout set with cute black leggings and a fitted black tee. i slide on my nike socks and lace up my new balance 574’s. i brush my hair and secure it with a stylish claw clip, still debating whether to leave it down or tie it up. I'll make up my mind in the uber.

i send him a text to inform him that I'm on my way to the location he had sent me. he reads the message but doesn't reply. oh well, I'm on my way already.

as we pull into his driveway, i can't help but notice how stunning his house is. i wonder what he does for work; being in california, he must be wealthy or famous. i tip my uber driver in cash, thanking him for the ride, and he wishes me luck. I'm definitely going to need it.

i grab my phone out but before i can send him a text i hear a whistle which caught my attention i looked up seeing him standing next to his front door i can’t help but check him out and oh my goodness he’s more attractive in person i can just rip his clothes off right here and there but i have to remain calm im not here for that.

he is wearing grey sweatpants and a white t-shirt, with a gold chain around his neck. his hair is lightly stuck to his forehead, indicating that he had a workout before I arrived.

“hey there” he smiles and waves signaling me to come in with his hand

i smile back and step into his house him standing behind me the whole time closing the door and walking towards me

"I'm nicholas, I'm your trainer. It's nice to meet you." oh my, his smile. his smile. his smile. I'm going to fold, i know I am, but I have to keep my calm. i don't even know him. i don't know if he's single or even married.

“hi, i’m y/n” i take his hand shaking it lightly

"come on, don't be shy," he takes us to his gym and confidently sits down on a bench, gesturing for me to sit next to him with a wave of his hand.

so demanding already.

“so tell me a little bit about yourself, i know you told me you just moved here but what’s the reason for the move and why are you looking for a trainer?” he asked curiously.

“well, i moved here to cali so it’ll be easier for me to achieve some of my goals, i have some experience in the gym but i really feel like ill learn a lot more with a trainer if that makes any sense” you smile shyly causing nicholas to chuckle a little.

“no need to be shy sweetie im here to help you you already look great im sure you’ll do a great job” i cross my legs just at the sound of his voice saying those loving praises, oh i need him so bad.

he notices but tries not to make it so obvious he grabs his water bottle taking a sip and putting down standing up tapping the side of my thigh gently “come on let’s get started”.

we begin with some easy stretches to warm up before the actual run. i couldn't help but notice that he mostly stood there, watching, instead of actively instructing and guiding me, which did bother me a bit.

“do an extended puppy pose for me” i look up at him and he just winks OH. he knows what he’s doing so i decide to play along as well.

as i get on all fours getting ready to get in the pose arching my back a little i can see nicholas from the side of my eye starting so hard i can’t help but silently giggle to myself.

“am i doing this good enough nicholas?? how’s my arch looking” he chuckles at my words a little.

“oh you’re doing so good y/n, you look amazing but i think you need a little help here” he comes down next to me getting on his knees right behind my ass and pushing my arch down so my stomach is hitting the floor beneath me.

“just like that?” I question.

“just like that, good girl” those words sent shivers down my spine i let out a soft sigh.

“what’s the matter sweetie?” he questioned.

i shake my head not responding to him “can we just do the next exercise?” i get on my knees so i can stand up but he comes in front of me putting one hand on my shoulder keeping me on my knees.

“let’s do some leg spreads i’ll help and guide you”.

i lay on the mat on my back and nicholas gets down on his knees again grabbing one of my legs bending it back a little.

“let’s start of slow sweetie i don’t want to hurt you”.

after doing a couple of reps nicholas stops and can’t help but notice something.

he chuckled “someone’s excited?”.

“what?” i ask not getting exactly what he’s talking about.

he spreads my leg a little further back.

“you’re so wet you’ve leaked through your panties it’s all on those leggings of yours”.

“i-im so sorry i-“ he cut me off.

“don’t worry about it doll, im having way more fun than you could possibly imagine” he bends down to kiss me and i went full in, tongue and everything.

after a few minutes of us making out he rips open my leggings with his bare hands which caused me to throw my head back and lightly groan, his eyes burning into my skull the whole time. never once taking those beautiful brown eyes off of me.

he pulls my panties to the side.

grabbing my mouth harshly “open and spit”.

i did as told, he sticks them in my mouth reaching the back of my throat causing to me gag.

he laughed and smiled “think you take all of my dick in there huh babygirl?”.

he pulled my panties to the side and started playing with me lightly flicking the clit and switching between fingering me and playing with my clit.

the groans escaping his mouth seemed a little animalistic like he hasn’t touched a woman in a very long time he’s eager and i can tell he wants to fuck me into the ground literally. 

“mmm you’re so fucking wet, you’ve been excited since you got here hm? or was it those photos i sent you last night that has you like this for me? horny and ready to get fucked by her trainer? it’s only day one babygirl and here you are legs spread open pussy juice dripping all over my fucking fingers, what am i going to do with you”.

i moan loudly his words. his actions. the sounds. everything just feels and sounds so fucking good i didn’t want him to stop.

“oh im gonna come” i felt the urge to release the feeling you get in your stomach when you know your going to cum and go crazy “please dont stop nicholas”.

“such a fucking good girl” he kept pumping his big thick fingers in and out of me which caused me to release all over his gym floor.

“oh shit baby, look at you fuck” he says rubbing my clit on a fast pace, i grabbed his hand trying to get him to stop since it feels way to good to handle.

“please” he grabs my face and kisses me harshly shoving his tongue all down my throat saliva dripping down in between the both of us.

“come on take this off” he removes my shirt and bra taking off what’s rest of the leggings throwing it somewhere in the gym.

he takes his shirt and sweats off leaving him completely exposed no boxers or anything on, he knew what he wanted to do.

“come on baby get on your knees let’s see if you can fit this dick all in that pretty mouth of yours, gagging on two fingers. that’s pathetic sweetheart you got to do better than that”.

i get on my knees and take his member into my hand lightly kissing and licking his desperate throbbing dick leaking pre cum everywhere, i quickly take my tongue and clean up the mess he made.

“now this is a great mouth exercise for you pretty you’ll love it” he laughs and i roll my eyes member still in my mouth looking up at him not breaking eye contact.

“oh come on” he pushes my head down taking his whole dick into my mouth repeatedly touching the back of my throat i tap and grab on his thighs signaling i needed to breath and catch my breath, he threw his head back in pleasure looking back down grabbing my hair and pulling me off of his dick.

“told you you couldn’t take it”

“mmm stop let me do it” i pout he reaches his hand and cups my cheek and caressing my hair rubbing circles on the top of my head.

i grab his dick taking him all in and taking him out grabbing it and lightly jerking him off, as i continue to jerk him off i suck off what’s left that i couldn’t fit in my mouth.

“mm fuck”

“just like that baby”

“such a good fucking girl for me”

i take him in once again feeling him twitch making sure he’s hitting the back of my throat so i can swallow all of his sweet juices.

he grabs my hair making it into a makeshift ponytail fucking my face at the perfect pace for him, he looks so good he can just take control and do what he wants at this point.

i feel him twitch again which means he’s super close this time he didn’t let me go he made sure he stayed in the back of my throat resting his cock in my mouth while he released all inside of my mouth.

“swallow that shit baby be a good fucking girl for me”

oh boy, this is just the first session i wonder what’s going to happen next time.

˖⋆࿐໋



[seiwas]

i ran out of tags sera i can’t believe this ☠️

anyway i was just saying !!! that !!! ONLY YOUUUU can write smut like this and stilLl make it so emotionally pAcked and heavy and characteristically ON POINT and i don’t even know if u intend to 😭😭😭 it feels like these things just flow like magic out of ur fingertips !!!!!!!!

and the next morning when nanami is there too KAMXKSN THE KISS THE CHEF APRON IS KILLING MEEEE and when he trips reader by jokin about the hickIES and reader falls for it and satoru facepalms 😭😭 hELPP AND THE LAST LINE SERA THE LAST LINE !!!!!!!!!!!

anyway this is all to say That !!!!!! SERA i love u and i miss u !!!! And i am so happy that i get to find ur lil works like this no matter how long time has passed !!! And that i get read it !!!! And enjoy it the way i do !! Because i always will love the things u write 🥺🥺 U KNOW I WILL !!! AAAAAAH thank u for blessing us w this nanago (more heavy gojo) MEAL 🥹

also thank u to somi for reminding me that this exists omfg jsnxkdnxj

ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — GOJO X FEM READER

Gojo and you have little to nothing in common besides a friend group and a shared crush on Nanami Kento. However, as befitting the sorcerer to end all sorcerers, of course Gojo has one up on you - he’s actually made a move on Nanami. If he offers to give you a taste through him, who are you to turn down such a golden opportunity? 

wc — 4.5k

tags — mdni, nanami x reader is present but not the focus, praise, Gojo’s a tease, fingering, mutual pining but for Nanami, crying during sex but in a good way, light begging

Work has been long and exhausting. Everywhere in the world is overrun by curses, but surely the solution can’t be to simply give the sorcerers more curses. There’s only so many of you, and with assignments piling on, you all can barely breathe. Sooner or later, someone’s going to burn out - and that’s an infinitely worse possibility. You don’t want to know what happens when a sorcerer goes rogue. 

That’s why you’ve taken to recovering the best you can. At least the pay has been proportional, thanks to the efforts of one Nanami Kento. Enough so that you’ve been able to rent an apartment in the heart of Tokyo, where you can home after work and relax - as much as you can when most days you go out into the field, come home, sleep, and repeat. You’re not even sure when you’ve had the time to eat these days. 

Which is why coming home to the sounds of music leaking out of your apartment is a little unwelcome. As you hear a crash from inside, and a loud, “Shit!”, you begin to regret giving your friends your keys. It was supposed to be for emergencies only, and yet, as you unlock the door - 

“Welcome home,” Nanami says dryly, nursing a drink in his other hand. Utahime notices next and scrambles up to greet you with a kiss on either cheek. 

Keep reading

[luvyeni]

( reaction ) tying your hair up prank ! ୨୧ 一 엔하이픈 ՞

⸃ ⸰ ⌁ tying your hair up in front of them to get their reaction ヾ

boyfriend!엔하이픈・ fem!reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ g ・ smut ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ cw ・ no actual sex , needy jake , ‎ talks of oral sex wc ・ ‎1k ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎| ‎ ‎click to library

request. can you please do enha's reactions to their partner doing the "tying my hair up in front of my boyfriend" prank

「 ୨୧ authors note 」 i hope you like it <3

﹙ 𐙚 : heeseung ﹚ .ᐟ

heeseung saw you set the camera up, but knowing the both of you often filmed yourselves together he didn’t think anything of it , especially when he saw you reach for the scrunchie on your wrist , he just thought it was about to go down and he was for it. “heeseung can you hand me that charger?” you asked , he was confused. the camera? the scrunchie? but no head. “what’s wrong?” you asked him trying not to laugh. “nothing.” he had a look of suspicion on his face as he passed you the camera. you couldn’t help but laugh as he handed you the camera. “baby you should see your face.” he rolled his eyes with a smirk. “why can’t you ever be serious?” he was about to stand up to get your phone for you when grabbed his wrist. “no keep it there.” now he could tell you were serious, he sat back down. “was this stupid prank just a way of you telling me you wanted to give me head?” he smirked.

“well baby the camera is rolling, how about you show the camera how you suck my dick like a good girl.”

﹙ 𐙚 : jay ﹚ .ᐟ

jay is different; he won't take notice of you doing something like tying your hair up, and he didn’t even notice you set the camera up so you’d have to get a little creative. “baby.” setting the camera up , he finally looked up from his laptop. “how can i help you princess.” he genuinely wanted to know what you wanted , he didn’t expect you to tie your hair up , rubbing his thighs. “oh?” he said, assuming what you wanted — but it was completely different. “what do you want to eat?” you held back a laugh , as he turned around in his chair, facing his laptop. “i don’t care.” he grumbled under his breath. “baby.” you laughed spinning his chair around. “don’t be upset.” you pouted , kissing his lips. you were about to reach for your phone when he stopped. “no don’t stop it.” he said caressing your cheek. “how about you make it up to me.” you nodded. “good girl.”

“now get on your knees and suck me off.”

﹙ 𐙚 : jake ﹚ .ᐟ

in jakes mind: your hair tied up = he’s about to get head. he didn’t even notice you set the camera up , just you taking the hair tie from your wrist , tying your hair up. he’s like bet — unbuckling his jeans, ready to pull them down. “jake what are you doing?” now he’s confused. “what do you mean?” you try and hold back a laugh, but he’s just staring at you with those puppy eyes. “why are you pulling your jeans down?” now he’s even more confuse. “are you not about to give me head?” you had to force a laugh down. “then why would you tie your hair up.” he pouted , he’s not even embarrassed he’s upset. “jake.” you laughed , pointing to the camera. “stupid camera.” he reached over pushing your phone down bitterly. “jake!” you scolded the boy. “your phone will be fine , i won’t.” he groaned. “im hard now.” you rolled your eyes. “already?”

“well i was already hard but seeing you tying your hair up made it worse.”

﹙ 𐙚 : sunghoon ﹚ .ᐟ

he saw you set the camera up and knew you were on some shit; however he allowed you to continue. “hey hoonie.” you sat down on the bed. “hey?” he watched you closely still unsure what you were doing. “it’s so hot.” you said , reaching over his body to the nightstand, grabbing a scrunchie to tie your hair up. your position and the way you sat; all sizes pointed to head, but the camera was saying something else. “you’re the one that said you didn’t want to film our sexual encounters but im not against it.” he said sitting his down , ready for you – but you never came. “well hurry up , we have somewhere to be soon.” you wanted to laugh , but the way he was nonchalant about it sorta made you want to do it. “this was supposed to be a prank.” he stared at you blankly , before speaking. “well then you better turn that camera off.”

“because now im hard as fuck and it’s your fault so fix it.”

©️LUVYENI

[maybanksprincess]

size kink with jj!

warnings: smut, unprotected sex (pulled out), p in v, size kink, choking, pet names, a little use of "papa j" 😵‍💫

little blurb based off this ask! thank you anon (def not horny)

your positioned laying on your back on jjs bed that has weed and chips scattered over the blankets, but you couldn't think about that right now when his dick was rutting in and out of you at a frantic pace.

and damn he was so big.

you can tell the blonde is getting close by the way his eyes flutter shut, and his movements grow much more sloppy, his forehead glistening with sweat.

his eyes slowly open back up, and you watch as his gaze drifts down to your stomach, and he lets out a strangled groan.

he places his ringed hand on your lower belly, gently pressing down to feel his cock slide in and out.

he grabs the back of your neck gently, tilting it up so you can see his dick practically stretch you in two. "look at that, mama." he coos, "look at how deep shes taking me, baby."

he starts to thrust harder, his hips snapping into yours, and his thrusts becoming deeper. he finds himself buried to the hilt, his balls hitting your ass with each thrust.

"mmph- jayy..." you whine, trying to push him away by his chest, the pleasure becoming all too much, but you couldn't bring yourself to use your safe word. it was too much, but it was so good at the same time.

"you know your safe word mama, you wanna use it? hm?" he asks teasingly, already knowing the answer.

you shake your head no, and let a pathetic whimper escape your throat.

"thas' what i thought." he says, as a wide smirk appears on his tanned face. he continues his deep thrusts, his high approaching any second now.

he moves his thumb down to rub circles on your swollen bud, doubling the pleasure. "cmon mama, 's okay. cum on papa j's big dick." he drags.

you couldn't hold your orgasm anymore, you came all over his cock, squirting and making a mess on the already messy bed sheets.

jj isn't far behind you, pulling out and letting thick white ropes of his seed spill down onto your little tummy. hes a moaning and whimpering mess as well, all worn out. but he cant help but tease you, "so im really that big, huh?" he says with that tired, but goofy grin on his face.

he was never letting you live that down.