#i thought of this and made it on my phone in about two minutes

[shikaizer]

after a long day of taking care of your kid, you cant help and sulk at your wife,but paige made sure to comfort you in a way you have been needing.

♡ : alcohol, high, kinda chaotic, strap on, SMUT.

the echo of your childs cry celes has been going on over and over, you have been rocking her back and forth to lower the noise and rock her to sleep, shes having one of her terror nightmares again, its the middle of the night and you badly wanted to rest.

you have been moving your ass off since early in the morning, doing the laundry, cooking breakfast to dinner, taking care of your child, every single house chore, i mean you never complained but without paige it seems to be harder.

your also annoyed that she decided to choose her friends celebrating their win, but again, you didn’t complain but you understood her.

but its so late at night and shes not home yet.

you caressed celes head while she wailed hitting your chest, you squeezed your eyes shut hoping she would just get tired on her constant tantrum and would suddenly fall asleep.

somehow, you managed to calm your child down, once you did you set her on her small bed, you sat on the edge and checked for your phone to see if she updated you, seeing no single message, you opened instagram to scroll and the first thing that popped up was a picture of paige.

both her arms are wrapped around a two chicks, side by side, you felt your heart drop gripping on your phone tight, you sighed and opened your message with paige, her last chat was her saying ‘i’ll be home early i promise’ what a dick.

you typed ‘dont you even dare go home.’ you knew she would be intimidated by this and she was a huge loser when you get mad.

it didn’t take one minute for her to reply.

‘babe no’

‘please im sorry’

‘im on my way’

you rolled your eyes leaving her on read, you made your way to your bedroom, plopping your self down on the cold bed relaxing, train of thoughts came in your mind, the coldness of the room and the darkness that lurked.

as you drift in a long sleep, you felt so relaxed that you payed no mind to the arm that snaked on your waist, the silent mutture behind your neck and the soft kisses that follow.

you whimpered stretching your body, you pressed yourself closer to the warmth behind you “babe..” paige whispered caressing your waist.

realizing it was your wife, you clicked your tounge and shifted away from her, she huffed pulling you closer again. “babe come on, im sorry, i tried to come home early i swear.” paige quietly whined and you peeked at your led digital to be met with a deadpan. "its fucking four in the morning paige." you stated seriousness in your tone, you can feel the pout on paige's face.

"but i swear— i didn't sense the time." paige assured and your not taking any bullshit, it was obvious that she had a huge ass chug of some alcohol, she reeked of it and your about to baff, its not like you dont like the smell of it and like she stinked, but when the scent was coming out of your wife who clearly assured you that she will keep the drinking unelevated, it was such a bullshit to you.

"did you even shower?" you finally turned your head to look at her and she was on some sugar rush, her face says it all but there was a hint of worriedness coming out of her. "i had to check you first." she stated and you sighed.

"come on lets take you to shower." you sat up and paige was quick to pull you back to her pressing her chest on your back. "do i stink?" paige whispered and you shaked your head.

"no— its the alcohol sticking on you." you huffed and she smirked giving you a kiss on neck. "doesn't it turn you on baby?" you cringed but you found yourself squeezing your thighs, honestly your not really turned on but the tone in her voice and the rasp made you jump.

"fuck no—" you clicked your tounge, paige had caught the way your legs squeezed each other and theres no point on denying now. "lying babe..." she whispered teasing as her warm hands starts to trail under your shirt.

pressing your body closer on her warmth, she squeezed your hard tits her lips leaving soft kisses on your nape.

"paige you seriously need to shower.." you cut her off, the alcohol was seriously too strong for your smell but paige took it as a offense, she bit your nape hard and you gasped. "stop, i dont even stink." she held you closer and you rolled your eyes. "i didn't even say you stinked." you stated with a breathy laugh.

"shut up." she smacked your hips and shifted your position, now shes on top of you pinning you down.

you stared at her for a seconds hunger in her eyes, she now leaned in giving you a deep kiss while she caressed your waist up and down.

breaking the kiss, you spoke up. "think you'll be able to fuck me right now? seems like you have no energy." you whispered and she leaned back looking at you. "oh you think so?" she asks while she fumbled with her belt removing them with ease.

"yeah" you smirked giving her a little tease, she cocked her head to the side reaching for the strap that the both of you had done sinful things with.

"you sure you wont be loud?" paige asked obviously putting you down on how weak she will make you and you scoffed with confidence.

"oh please— i might even dose off to sleep while your at it." you chuckled and she buckled the strap around her hips never leaving her stare at you.

she was quick to pull your shorts down with ease, revealing your cunt, you didn't wear any panties and this made paige amused. "dirty girl."

she shaked her head and spat on your clit making you whine at the quick contact, she bought the tip closer to your clit rubbing them slowly making you moan.

"not even inside yet." she teased and you rolled your eyes bucking your hips up. "get on all fours, now." she demanded, while you at it, she was spitting at her hand rubbing the liquid at her cock.

when your on your fours, she held your hips. "ass up pretty girl." she whispered and you arched you back turning your head to look at her, you realized at this position, she tends to be rougher so you scooted back a little and she was quick to grab you.

"dont back down." paige chuckled amused, she slid in her cock wasting no time slamming deeply inside you.

"shit—" you gasped breathing deeply, she gripped on your hips both hands, while she thrusted in and out without any mercy.

your mouth was left agape, the constant knotting in your stomach was the only thing you could focus on, paige observing your demeanor took the opportunity to tease you more.

"whats wrong?" she cooed caressing your ass cheeks. "nothing..." you whispered covering up a moan and she laughed. "gonna drift off to sleep now?" she asked slamming inside you deeper and you moaned more. "noo paige.." you breath out and she bit her lip her pace getting more faster.

"think my energy is too low?" she ask again with a teasing tone, you groaned gripping hard on your pillow like it was your only life support. "nooo..." you shaked your head whimpering when she suddenly smacked your ass while she slammed relentlesly.

"fuck gonna cum—" you screamed, the more she gets faster the more the bed squecks, the knot in your stomach was unbearable and finally, you have came while her cock was still inside.

breathing heavily, paige pressed her body on your back trailing soft kisses. "love you.." she whispered her warmth clinging on you.

MASTERLIST

TAGLIST @janaelalfysloml @gabbyygoo @brenwritesss @addl0vee @sharksmom69 @bellaprintz25 @leiyanzyves @belsouza21 @apbueckers @loviingsunflower @luldejamleer @simpf0rriddle08 @paige05bby @scarrr5 @shootingstarrrrr @rosemariiaa @leslienjazzy @liviyy @weluvwbb @vicsstufff @taylynbueckers44 @yourmom-25s-blog @d7dream @paigesbasketball @sevikasleftbicep @azzisbueckers @bribadoobeee @tndaqlwifwy @dalilahissilly @bethsleftnip @fitecuddles @uwupaige @melpthatsme

[bytemee]

WATERMELON SUGAR — yu jimin.

"tastes like strawberries on a summer evenin."

synopsis. your stubble is starting to change color. you don’t really know why, but thankfully you’re not the only one who’s noticed.

pairing. karina x trans!male!reader

warning(s). fluffy, suggestive theme/joke (r being a certified eater), teasing from karina & the rest of aespa, let me know if there’s more!

words. 1.1k

authors note. thank you for the request! i hope you don’t mind i added to it !!

masterlist. navigation. request.

earlier that morning, you had been getting ready in the bathroom when you noticed something weird in the mirror. you leaned in, squinting at your reflection, running a hand over your jaw.

your facial hair looked... lighter? like, not dramatically so, but enough for you to notice. you rubbed at it, wondering if maybe it was just the bathroom lighting.

still, it bothered you enough that you brought it up to karina while the two of you were still in bed, her head resting on your chest as she scrolled through her phone.

"hey," you murmured, absentmindedly running your fingers through her hair. "i think my facial hair is changing colors."

karina hummed, not looking up. "mm? what do you mean?"

"i dunno," you sighed, tilting your head against the pillow. "it looks lighter for some reason."

that made her pause. she lifted her head slightly, finally glancing at you. then, without warning, she reached up, gently patting your cheeks before squishing them between her hands.

you blinked. "babe?"

a smile tugged at her lips. she didn't say anything, though, merely pressing a soft, lingering kiss to your lips.

then she murmured, "maybe it's your diet."

your eyebrows furrowed as you actually considered that. "...my diet?"

karina just grinned, sitting up and stretching, you were oblivious to the laugh she was trying to suppress.

you thought back to everything you ate in the past few days—trying to figure out what could've possibly changed. maybe it was the protein shakes? or that new chicken place karina made you try?

you spent a solid five minutes rethinking all your life choices before ultimately shrugging it off.

big mistake.

by the time you were all hanging out later that day, you had almost forgotten about it—until winter made an observation.

the group was sprawled across the living room, everyone talking over each other. karina was by your side, as always, with her legs draped across your lap while she scrolled through her phone. you, meanwhile, were playing some video game, and occasionally shouting at the tv.

it was winter who called out your new look.

"wait." she squinted at you, a confused expression tugging at her face. "your stubble is literally ginger now. how is that possible?"

everyone fell silent. all eyes turned to you, and you blinked, feeling your face heat up at all of the attention.

there was a beat of silence.

"oh my god," ningning gasped, covering her mouth like she just witnessed something horrific.

giselle choked on her drink.

winter still didn't get it. "what? what did i miss?"

ningning grabbed her arm, shaking her. "winter. winter, think."

winter blinked. then she did think.

it took a minute.

then she gaped.

for a second, you were genuinely confused—until your brain finally caught up.

your heart stopped.

your stomach sank.

you couldn't help but stare at karina in disbelief, your brain still processing the situation.

winter's voice broke through the silence, her teasing tone pulling you out of your thoughts. "wait, are you telling me you...?" she didn't need to finish her sentence. the look on your face was enough.

karina, still nonchalantly sitting beside you, finally burst out laughing. her hand was now resting on your knee as she tried to stifle her giggles, clearly enjoying the moment way too much.

"karina, why didn't you tell me?" your face was burning, and you were pretty sure your ears were on fire.

she shrugged, still giggling. "i didn't think it was a big deal." then she leaned in, her lips brushing your ear as she whispered, "but i guess it's kind of cute."

you blinked, processing the fact that your girlfriend was, apparently, in on the joke the whole time. the realization that she had known what was going on made your heart drop. you didn't know whether to laugh or to die of embarrassment.

you buried your face in your hands, too embarrassed to even look at anyone. "oh my god," you muttered, your words muffled by your palms.

"wait, wait, wait," giselle interjected, still recovering from her earlier coughing fit. "you mean to say you've been, uh... eating that much that your facial hair changes color?" she was practically howling with laughter now, her face red.

your eyes widened. "i... didn't even know that was a thing! why didn't anyone warn me?"

the group continued laughing, and even karina was barely holding it together. "it's not like it's a huge deal," she said between chuckles, "just a little... side effect."

you groaned, defeated. "you could've told me, though!"

but karina wasn't done. she leaned into you, rubbing her hand over your newly ginger-colored stubble. her tone was gentle, and she couldn't hold back the soft grin that tugged at her lips.

"like i said it's really not a big deal," she insisted. "it's cute."

you pouted. "it's embarrassing!"

"aw," she laughed, pulling you into her arms. "my poor baby."

the others watched, snickering.

you groaned again, but this time, it was a little less out of embarrassment and more from the affection you felt. "fine," you sighed, throwing up your hands in surrender. "but you're helping me shave it off later, i swear."

karina only smiled, planting a soft kiss to your forehead.

later that night, when everyone had cleared out of the living room, karina led you to the bathroom with a comforting smile. "come on," she said softly, "let's take care of that ginger stubble."

as you sat down on the edge of the sink, watching her lather your cheeks, you couldn't help but smile a little. karina grabbed the razor, her hands gentle as she carefully started shaving the lighter patches of hair off your jawline.

you leaned back against the mirror, letting her work her magic.

she didn't speak, and neither did you, the room growing quiet as you both focused on the task. the silence was peaceful, and you found yourself enjoying the moment—and the fact that she was still here, by your side, and would continue to be.

once the stubble was all gone, she leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your cheek. you grinned.

"feeling better?" she asked, her lips grazing your skin.

"much better."

she laughed, resting her head against your shoulder. "you're still perfect, ginger stubble or not."

you rolled your eyes, but her words sent a wave of warmth through you, and you pulled her into a hug, murmuring a soft, "i love you."

her arms wrapped around your waist, her head still resting against you. "i love you too, my big eater."

"i'm not a big eater!"

"mm, keep telling yourself that."

"babe. enough."

[roc-haze]

I have a really rough idea that I think only you, my fave Will writer, will do justice and bring to life ! Inspired by Whatta Man by Salt-N-Pepa, I’m envisioning a 90s themed party! Perhaps reader and Will (intentionally or unintentionally) in matching outfits? I really love the way you write Will and the friendship dynamics, particularly w Becky my qween

Whatta Man | WillNE

Clothes were strewn across the floor and chaos had absolutely ensued in Y/N’s apartment. Up until recently, she had lived with both Arthur and Flo. Flo had found a place she’d absolutely fallen in love with, subsequently moving out and taking her incredible wardrobe with her. Fuck it, I just won’t go.

Great, she thought. Becky will be pissed if I don’t go.

Rummaging through her wardrobe, Y/N pulled together the outfit she’d worn to her friend Ada’s dirty 30’s party. Throwing on the signature Rachel Green fit of stockings, skirt, high neck tee and a handmade Central Perk apron courtesy of her Cricut machine, Y/N met Arthur, Liv and Bach in the kitchen for a fireball shot.

“Well. Hate to break it to you Isaac, but we’re gonna have to break up for the night.” Liv whistled in her direction, wrapping an arm around Y/N as she got within close proximity. Y/N pulled Liv into a sweet hug, wrapping her arms around her shoulders as Liv’s embraced her torso.

Isaac looked over, mock look of disgust on his face. “So who does that leave me with? Arthur?”

“Give me a wig and a couple of shots. I could be a solid replacement.” Arthur laughed, pouring out a shot for everyone. “Alright, give us a toast Y/N.”

Keeping an arm around Liv, the two girls raised their shot glasses and led the group in a toast. “It’s been a hectic few months, but I have a feeling 2025 is our year. Here’s to all of us - may we stay positive and test negative.” They all clinked their glasses, downing their drinks.

Isaac looked at Liv. “I’ll have to get tested if I spend the night with Arthur.”

The group erupted in laughter.

-

Walking into the party, they were met with all sorts of costumes. TLC’s ‘Waterfalls’ was blasting, Chip and Freezy were absolutely tearing it up on the makeshift dancefloor. Becky could be seen waving Y/N and Liv over.

“I’ll get us a drink and meet you in one sec.” Liv squeezed Y/N’s arm gently, making her way to the bar.

Y/N ran over to Becky, who was dressed as a spice girl. “Becks… you look stunning.”

Becky pulled her friend into a warm embrace, placing a kiss on her cheek. “I had to go with Sporty Spice.. pretty sure there’s a girl here somewhere dressed as Posh.”

The two stood gossiping before Liv joined, holding her hands together to carry over three cans of gin and soda. “I just saw the Arthur’s messing around with the DJ, I wonder what we’re in for.”

Becky had just launched into a story about the latest episode of her show when Chris walked past, doing a double take.

“That’s really clever, Y/N! I didn’t realise you and Will had coordinated costumes.” He smiled brightly before making his way through the room.

The three girls stood off to the side of the dance floor, puzzled. “Becks, have you seen Will’s costume?”.

“No, I haven’t seen him yet. He can’t be that hard to spot though.” She peered around the room.

Liv stifled a laugh. “Imagine if he’s come as Gunther”.

The girls had spent the next hour dancing, managing to drag Bach, ArthurTV, Cam Kirkham and Chloe onto the dance floor. Both Lux and Tobi had approached Y/N, hyping up her costume and letting her know she had matched Will perfectly. Yet, there was still no sight of the man. Y/N looked to Chloe, using her hands to fan her face.

“I need a minute… it’s getting bloody hot in here.” Y/N made a gesture to the bar.

“I’m right behind you, girlfriend.” Chloe gave her a salute.

Making her way to the bar, Y/N veered off to the side to pull her phone out and reply to a few messages she’d received throughout the night. She was mid text when she felt eyes on her. Looking up, she met Will’s gaze as he made his way over to her.

The lanky Geordie was decked out in a tight cropped shirt with ‘Frankie say relax’ written over it, tan pants and a pair of his signature Converse. He grinned, pulling her into a hug. “You must be the Rachel to my Ross.”

“Well, that depends.” Y/N smirked. “Were we on a break?”.

Will laughed, his smile reaching his eyes. “As if I’d ever let you go.” The blood rushed to Y/N’s cheeks as she blushed. “Pretty sure I owe you a pint from our last night out.” He grabbed her hand, pulling her toward the bar. Will ordered for the both of them, before taking both drinks and finding them an unoccupied chair to sit in.

Seating options were limited, which worked perfectly for Will. They took up real estate on the closest love seat, sitting facing each other, legs touching.

Y/N mirrored Will, pint in one hand and the other resting on top of the sofa. They shared recaps of their weeks, laughing between the two of them. To onlookers, they appeared to be totally giddy over one another.

Becky stood chatting with Cam Kirkham, the two of them analysing the couple in front of them.

“I really like them together! He seems real smitten when she’s around.” Cam said, letting out a playful gasp as Will moved a strand of hair out of her face.

Becky nodded. “You know Harry’s been keeping an eye out.”

“Oh what, Wroetoshaw?”.

“Yeah. I hear he’s in the market for a lass.”

Cam tutted. “Not this one. Lenney’s marriage material.”

Arthur Hill emerged, throwing an arm over Becky’s shoulder. “What are we gonna do about those two? The sexual tension is fucking unreal.”

Cam’s eyes lit up. “Maybe we just throw a spicy song suggestion to the DJ. Might inspire them to pash or something.”

“Ooh, I’ve got just the one.” Arthur made his way over to the DJ, throwing him a song suggestion before being met with a nod and thumbs up. Making his way back to the group, Becky called out. “What’d you suggest, Mr Hill?”

“Salt-N-Pepa. Last time we went out for karaoke, they got steamed and performed their own rendition of it.” Arthur laughed, pulling his phone out of his pocket to show Becky a video of their karaoke efforts.

Meanwhile, Will and Y/N sat on the love seat exchanging anecdotes. Pints abandoned to the table in front of them, Y/N sat with her head resting in her palm. Will mirrored her, his free hand resting on her knee.. pinky fingers just touching.

Moments later, Salt-N-Pepa’s ‘Whatta Man’ flowed through the speakers. The two looked at each other, knowing smiles stretching across their faces. Will stood up, holding his hand out for her to grab. He intertwined their fingers, bringing her to the middle of the dance floor.

They gravitated toward the middle, taking turns singing line for line.

I wanna take a minute or two and give much respect due. His hands are on her waist.

To the man that’s made a difference in my world. She’s grinning up at him, singing directly at him.

And although most men are ho’s, he flows on the down low ‘cause I never heard about him without another girl. He’s tracing circles with his thumb.

But I don’t sweat it because it’s just pathetic, to let it, get me involved in that ‘he said, she said’ crowd. She rests her hands on his forearms.

I know that ain’t nobody perfect, I give props to those who deserve it. And believe me y’all, he’s worth it. He’s searching her eyes for even a hint of reciprocity.

So here’s to the future ‘cause we got through the past. I finally found somebody that can make me laugh. She runs her hands along his arms, resting them on his chest.

“You so crazy, I think I wanna have your baby.” Y/N sings, looking straight at him. She lets her gaze flicker from his eyes down to his lips, and just like that, he’s hooked.

Will keeps one hand on her waist, pulling her in as close as he possibly can. His free hand makes a home in her hair, thumb resting on her jaw. Their lips meet. Y/N leaves one hand on his chest, the other coming up to copy his movements - fingers tugging gently on strands of hair, thumb resting on his jaw. They were pretty much parallel. Mirrored on either side. Very Ross and Rachel of them. Will let her lead, and she was going to savour the moment. Y/N laughed into the kiss, trying to keep her mouth closed and make him wait.

Becky, Cam, Chloe and Arthur Hill stood off to the side, clapping and cheering as their friends kissed for the first time.

Freezy walked past, sussing out the commotion. “Why are we cheering?”. He spoke loudly over the chorus.

“They’ve just kissed for the first time!” Becky shouted.

“That’s not the first time!” Freezy spoke directly in her ear.

Becky furrowed her brow. “What do you mean?”.

Freezy pulled up his WhatsApp chat with his editors and Chip, showing Becky the screen.

Chip: Just a heads up boys, should maybe cut this out.

*1 video attachment*

The video showed Will and Y/N on a night out filming pub golf, heavily intoxicated. The two were sitting in a booth together, her head resting on his shoulder. She lifted her head to look up at him, gingerly taking his head between her hands and placing a sweet kiss on his lips.

“What was that for?” Video Will had asked.

“Just felt like kissing a handsome man.” Video Y/N replied, resting her head back on his shoulder. Moments later, George had approached to let them know it was time to move on.

Freezy: Yeah, cut it out. Might be a fun story for their wedding someday though.

Becky stood with her jaw dropped, before a grin slowly took over her features. “Let’s just let them believe this is the first time.”

Freezy nodded. “Yeah, I’ll save that footage for a rainy day.”

——

Author’s note:

Thank you for your request! I LOVED the idea and I hope this is kind of what you envisioned 🤭 I love the idea of a somewhat niche costume so this is probs a bit specific. And thank you, my fave anon!! You are very sweet and I’m glad you enjoy these fics 🥹 I was feelin a little discouraged and you have absolutely made my week 💕

Here’s the playlist I listened to while writing and proofreading this one if you’d really like to immerse yourself in the 90s vibes 🤍⭐️

- Loser by Beck

- Bitch by Meredith Brooks

- Waterfalls by TLC

- Linger by The Cranberries

- Angels by Robbie Williams

- One Headlight by The Wallflowers

- The Look by Roxette

[cherrykpawp]

Heat // Ch 3.5

Rating: Explicit, Mature (M)

Pairings: Yunho x reader, Mingi x reader, San x reader, Wooyoung x reader, Yeosang x reader, hinted San x Wooyoung, hinted Mingi x Yeosang, hinted San x Mingi, hinted Wooyoung x Yeosang, hinted San x Yeosang

This fic includes/ This chapter includes: hybrids, Afab!reader, reader-centric, fluff, angst, Fashion designer!Seonghwa, Owner!Seonghwa, Calico hybrid!reader, Dobermann hybrid!Yeosang, Maine Coone hybrid!Wooyoung

W.C: 3k

“You know, I had thought Yunho’s house was big already. But this…”, you were astonished, to say the least.

Today, you got to sleep over at Seonghwa’s house, exposing yourself more to Yeosang and Wooyoung. Yunho dropped you off 10 minutes ago, he packed your duffle bag with clothes for the weekend last night so that you could feel comfortable and find your things easily. Although he initiated the plan to have this sleepover, he was downcast that your presence wouldn’t be in the house for the next two days. San and Mingi gave you the tightest bear hug you’ve ever had, acting as if they couldn’t just come over. It was better for you to go alone though.

Seonghwa tucked his hair behind his ear, “It’s nothing. I wanted Yeosang and Wooyoung to have easy access to whatever they wanted to do”. Just like San, Mingi, and you, they had the freedom to go outside since they had phones and tracking. 

Seonghwa showed you to your guest room, it could’ve been considered a mini apartment. The interior had a bathroom and a balcony with sliding glass doors, shielding you from the sun outside with large white curtains. Everything was nicely tucked in and organized just like the rest of the house, an array of decorations adorning it. 

“You can put your things away in the meantime. When you’re done, I’d like to get your measurements for your clothes in the future to wear if you ever feel like sleeping over again. It’ll stay here since it'll be more convenient for Yunho. Unless you prefer to wear what you already have then by all means. My house is your house”, Seonghwa kindly informed you before shutting the door behind him, you love his congeniality. 

The room even had a floral aroma, relaxing you times ten. In the room was one of those drawers with no handle, so you had to push the drawer for it to open, very elegant like Seonghwa. You briefly put your clothes away, quickly changing from outside clothes into something for the inside. Seeing how clean it was here, you didn’t want to be the reason dirt was brought in. After changing, you walked out to the living room, your guest room was conveniently on the first floor out of the three stories. The top floor is a full-sized gym.

Seonghwa busied himself on his tablet, sketching away at a new idea. “You mentioned that you wanted to measure me?”, Seonghwa looked up from his tablet, pleased to see that you changed clothes. 

He reached inside the drawer of the table in front of him, it was filled with supplies, taking out a measuring tape before towering over you. “I won’t do too much, just some standard measurements”. You don’t know what ‘standard measurements’ were but it seemed like he measured every inch of you. Your legs, the inside of your legs, your arm length, the width of your shoulders, the length of your back, your bust, waistline, hips, even head size. You don’t even know if he made hats. “Perfect. Thank you, my canvas”.

Padded feet made their way down the stairs, it was Wooyoung. His hair was tied back in a half-up ponytail showing his ears more, wearing an oversized maroon shirt and gray sweatpants. “Y/n!”, he’s already full of exuberance, sweeping you off your feet and spinning you around.

“Hello, Youngie”, you giggled after he put you down, his ears pointed up, “where’s Sangie?”

“He’s finishing up his workout, but forget about him”, he interlocked your hands together, “what do you want to do today?”.

You laced your fingers back, “I’m down for whatever you or Yeosang want to do”. His face was suddenly mischievous.

“You can’t tell me that”, his tail swayed in tune with his body. “You heard what the guys told you the other day.”

Everything came racing back, “You seriously like kissing and showing affection huh?”.

“You have no idea”, you focused on the deep voice coming from the stairs. Yeosang hair was dampened with sweat, his skin glistened in it too. He wore a black compression short-sleeved shirt and black sweats, wiping down his glowy skin and auburn hair. “He’d do it for hours if he could.

Wooyoung didn’t have a response for that, considering it was true. “Besides that, I like cuddling, playing board games, and bullying Yeosang cause his reactions are adorable”.

Yeosang disapproved, heading off to wash up so that he didn’t come off unappealing, and because Seonghwa doesn’t like touching sweat. 

“Do you have Jenga? I saw it on YouTube but I never played it before”, you inquired, earning a surprised expression from Wooyoung.

“Really? We have two versions, the regular and the one with the prompts. Which one do you fancy?”

You pondered, “Maybe just the regular one for now. We can save the ones with prompts for a different day”. Wooyoung agreed, joyful that you thought about visiting again.

He released one hand, leading you towards the other side of the house where all the “entertainment” was. It ranged from technology to board games, card games, puzzles, and stuffed toys. There were cushions on the floor for you to sit on, taking a seat on one, letting go of his hand so he could grab the Jenga. He sat across from you, opening the box and carefully preparing it, dropping some blocks anyway.

Your tail wrapped around your arm, catching Wooyoung’s eye, “your fur is divine. I love Calico patterns”.

You waved off his compliment, “Yours is so fluffy, it's probably extremely velvety”. Wooyoung beamed at your compliment, he spun around excitedly. “The Jenga!”, he tumbled it over clumsily.

“Don’t worry”, Wooyoung didn’t care at all, “touch it”. You complied, caressing it, his tail was more plush than you imagined. You almost forgot it was his tail with how you squeezed it to feel the density, making Wooyoung jerk.

“Oh I’m sorry”, You retracted your hands. He switched to his original seating, an excited smile still plastered.

“It’s fine, it didn’t hurt”, rebuilding the tower he dropped, “I groom it every two days and apply some oil so that it gets soft and shiny like this. One of my favorite attributes about myself besides well”, he gestured to himself, head to toe. Seonghwa had some confident hybrids, it makes sense since Seonghwa was secure in himself as well. 

You played two rounds of Jenga, both games were more intense than they should’ve been. In the first round, you started safely choosing a middle block dead center of the tower, thinking of taking things easy. That was until Wooyoung skillfully flicked the bottom left block away, nonchalantly placing it on the top right of the tower. Your eyes widened, was he trying to make it difficult from the start? Tilting your head to the side, you pulled out a side piece three stories above the bottom row, placing it on top. But Wooyoung just flicked the right block on the bottom, making the whole tower balance on its single middle block. 

“Do you want to lose or something?”, you asked perplexed. You thought the whole point of Jenga was to prevent it from dropping.

Wooyoung chuckled, placing the block on top, “No, but it makes the game more intense and entertaining”. He wasn’t wrong, because the way you started stressing over where the tower was about to fall had you on edge. Because of Wooyoung’s earlier choices, the tower fell on your turn, the Maine Coone praised himself. 

“That’s not fair, you literally made it difficult from the start”, you pouted, slowly building the tower back.

“Win the next one”, Wooyoung shrugged, playfully sticking a tongue out. 

So you were determined, being the one to remove the bottom middle block and place it on top. He looked at you with a shocked expression, and you responded by poking your tongue back at him. Now if he were to pull either side of the bottom blocks out, the tower would tumble over regardless. Most of the blocks pulled were safe, you attempted to make it difficult for him. It was safe to say you won this round, watching as the tower fell on his turn. His head dropped in defeat, now it was your turn to celebrate. 

“Did he cheat?”, Yeosang appeared in fresh new clothes, wearing a white long-sleeved shirt and black shorts. He sat on a cushion beside you, playing with one of the Jenga blocks.

“No, he won the first round and I won this one”, you proudly stated.

Yeosang faked a gasp, “Wooyoungie? Winning? This is unheard of, how did you let that happen? He’s usually egregious at losing games”, Yeosang quipped, releasing a belly laugh.

Wooyoung hissed at his friend, “Yah! I win sometimes.”

“Sometimes, very few”, Yeosang nodded, rebuilding the tower.

“You see why I bully him? He’s like this to me on the regular”, Wooyoung eyed you defensively, “he may look innocent but he’s secretly a Charlatan.”

Yeosang couldn’t help but smirk, ignoring his friend. The three of you played one more round of Jenga, Wooyoung was persistent on making one of you lose, but Yeosang remained forbearing. Not knowing how Yeosang played, you stayed with the safer block options. Ultimately, you ended up winning again. Yeosang happily cheered for you, he secretly lost just so Wooyoung wouldn’t win but he wasn’t going to admit that.

“New game”, Wooyoung packed away the Jenga, not accepting his defeat twice in a row. “Do you guys want to play truth or dare?”

“Sure-”, you were cut off by Yeosang.

“If I have to reiterate, she just came over about an hour ago. Put it away”. Wooyoung’s ears dropped, putting the game away.

You frowned, “what’s wrong with truth or dare?”

“Nothing’s wrong with truth or dare, but the one he picked out was for couples, so it includes suggestive prompts. He played this when San came over the first time”, Yeosang informed you, monitoring the games Wooyoung reached for. 

“Oh. Are you guys a couple?”, curiosity getting the best of you. “No. But we do help each other frequently. We even played this yesterday”, Yeosang pulled down the collar of his shirt to reveal his chest decorated in love bites. “He picked dare, as always, and the prompt was to leave ONE love bite in a place of your choice for 30 seconds. He decided to see how many he could make in a minute”, releasing the grasp on his shirt. 

“It didn’t seem like you pushed him away, he kept doing it 30 seconds extra past the time limit”, you eyed him teasingly. Yeosang tucked an invisible strand of hair behind his ear, you heard Wooyoung snicker at your comment. You technically weren't wrong.

Wooyoung brought out a card game called ‘We’re Not Really Strangers’, “This is a safer option. It’ll help us get to know you better since it’s your first day with us”. He opened the box, placing it in the middle of you three. “Ladies first”.

You pulled out a card, reading its prompt, “WILDCARD: Admit something”. You gestured the question to both of them. 

Yeosang stroked the back of his head, shy to admit, “I definitely let him continue”, earning a small shriek from you. How scandalous. He laughed in embarrassment, it was the first time you heard him laugh, and you wanted to hear it on repeat honestly. “Out of all the scents amongst the hybrids, I love yours the most”, Wooyoung safely answered, Yeosang suddenly feeling like he should’ve kept it to himself.

Considering he was on the left of you, Yeosang picked out a random card, “What do you think my defining characteristic is?”

You didn’t have to think hard about that too hard, “your birthmark. I meant it when I said it was beautifully unique”, Yeosang smiled, the apples of his cheeks prominent.

“Your eyebrows”, Wooyoung commented. Yeosang hummed at his response. Wooyoung reached into the box for a new card, “What was your first impression of me?”

“Considering we met in the same clinic, probably ‘wow, this friend is very outgoing’ and then you introduced yourself  “formally” by biting me”. Yeosang reminisced. “Good thing I didn’t ask you, this was for y/n”, Wooyoung nodded toward you, Yeosang bit his tongue from what he wanted to say.

“I thought you were outgoing as well, you’re a people person. Not overwhelming at all”, Wooyoung’s tail swayed behind him, bowing his head towards you to rub his head. You did, loving how adorable he was acting.

Yeosang leaned towards your ear, “You say this now. Just be careful”, he pulled away, acting coy.

Softly chuckling, you reached for another prompt, “What is the most toxic trait you can admit to?” 

“I can be too assertive at times. Some people got distant because of my rowdy attitude, I was a million times worse than this until I met Seonghwa hyung”, Wooyoung replied, stretching his legs forward. 

“I can be possessive when in the mood”, Yeosang shyly admitted. “I mean, it’s natural in canine hybrids. I just thought I’d be different, it’s not like I’ll put anyone in danger. It’s more so that I need to remind myself or be reminded to relax”.

“Neither of those is too bad, especially if you have tactics that restrain you from harming the other person”, you reassured them, Yeosang’s tail wagged softly. 

Yeosang reached for a card, “Who in your life deserves the biggest thank you?”

Wooyoung answered quickly, “Everyone here and hyung’s house. You guys allow me to be who I am”. 

This was another question you didn’t have trouble answering, “Definitely Yunho. You have no idea how my life was before him..”, suddenly the air got a bit heavy but they let you talk, they never got to hear all the full details. “Having to move from one town to another to find shelter, stressing to find anything to eat let alone a hot meal, your only pair of clothes getting worn out and torn having to rely on bandages to keep you modest, being too naive and easily trusting of people that weren’t as genuine as they said. Having been like that for 4 months humbled me to never take anything for granted. Before Yunho found me, I was seriously about to give up. Staying in the alleyway that cold night, I hoped to freeze so I wouldn’t continue another day in torment. But it seems as if my previous owner sent me an angel. And to that, I owe him more than a thank you, but my soul.”, the sincerity in your words left the hybrid's heartbroken. The fact that you had to endure all that but still put on a loving smile every day completely altered their brain chemistry toward you. 

They vowed to give you anything and everything you needed. Without hesitation, they would tend to you from here on out, guaranteeing you a life of pure happiness.

Instead of apologizing, and to lighten the mood, Wooyoung spoke from the heart. “Yunho made a wonderful choice that night. He saw a dandelion in the crack on the sidewalk and decided to carry it home, now that dandelion gets to bloom and share her love with others”. 

Your eyes got glossy but you didn’t allow your tears to fall, “Thank you for your kind words, Wooyoungie”. Wooyoung gave a bittersweet smile, still saddened by your story.

“I’m utterly glad to have met a person like you. You’re patient with all of us and have such an angelic spirit. You display your selflessness effortlessly and it's admirable. It’s as admirable as your will to keep going despite everything. You’re too pure for this world, a star falling from the sky and into our lives”, Yeosang softly spoke, wishing you nothing but the best in life.

Your neck felt hot, fighting back your emotions. “Are you two poets or something? My goodness”, you heartwarmingly giggled, grateful for such genuine people in your life.

You all decided to put the game away, not wanting to open further wounds. The rest of your day with them consisted of three of you watching dramas and reality television, catching up to date with the newer episodes. Seonghwa had ordered takeout for all of you, deciding to settle for Japanese food. He ordered different sushi rolls, sashimi, ramen, udon, and onigiris to eat as a late snack. You never had ‘Ramune’ before, puzzled about how you’d drink it since a marble blocked the spout. Seonghwa showed you, using the blue plastic piece to push the marble down, releasing a small pop. As you sipped it, you’d hear the glass marble hitting against the bottle, it was kind of satisfying to hear. 

You noticed as you ate, the hybrids would give you their favorite parts of the sushi rolls. They didn’t have to but the gesture was sweet so you accepted it. If you liked a certain sashimi cut, they would leave it only for you, even telling Seonghwa not to eat it. Seonghwa was confused as to why they were acting this way towards you, especially since Yeosang didn’t get a piece of his favorite sashimi; the one you were eating. He concluded that you opened up to them, seeing as they cleaned your face if sauce got on it even for a second. And if that was the case, he let you indulge to the fullest. You gave them a piece or two anyway because you couldn’t eat all this. 

Once lunch was over, Seonghwa encouraged you three to rest as he cleaned up and put the leftovers away. You settled for the sofa in the living room, using the tablet offered to you by Seonghwa. And because they couldn’t leave your side, Yeosang and Wooyoung joined you. You originally had your legs straight along the sofa until Yeosang sat beside you, placing your legs over his thighs to scoot closer to you. His ears were more relaxed, holding your legs close to him with one hand as his other hand scrolled along his phone. Wooyoung sat on a cushion on the floor next to you, leaning back against the sofa. He tilted his back to give you a quick wink before closing his eyes for a brief nap. 

Even their silence comforted you, feeling more than safe in it.

[toomuchracket]

talking marriage (birthday party!matty x reader fluff)

i know we have The proposal fic already for them, but here's the decision to pop the question being made. 1.9k, fluffy as fuck, ft. girly being both a bridesmaid and a sabrina stan. enjoy! <3

one hand already fumbling in his pocket for his pack of camel blues, matty pushes the door open, wincing at the brightness of the afternoon sun. the cigarettes are ignored in favour of shielding his eyes with his hand; only once he's stumbled his way to the nearest parasol-covered picnic table does he reach for the pack again, lighting one with practiced ease and taking a long drag. he exhales, leaning back and letting the sun warm the nape of his neck, and smiles as he listens to the music thumping away indoors, punctuated by off-key singing (alexa's) and raucous laughter (yours, his favourite sound in the world).

halfway through matty's cigarette - and during the opening remarks of his mental debate on whether to light a second one - the music changes; the melody softens, from upbeat pop to melodic soul, and your laughter fades along with it. a slight wash of loneliness passes over your boyfriend when your voice stops being audible, and if your phone wasn't currently tucked safely in his inside pocket he'd doubtless send you a text asking for you to join him outside. luckily for him, though, you're nudging the door open with your hip within a couple of minutes, the smile on your face and your pale yellow bridesmaid dress both lighting up the smoking area more than the sunshine itself.

matty smiles in response. “hi, darling.”

“hi,” you lean down for a kiss, which matty eagerly returns, and place two glass bottles on the table. “thought you might want this.”

“thank you, sweetheart,” he takes a sip of the coke, watching as you smooth your dress down and take a seat opposite him. you rest your head on your hand, angling the straw in your own coke and sipping it with a sigh. “you flagging?”

“little bit. s'been a long day. but a good one, definitely,” you intertwine your fingers with matty’s, beaming beautifully when he lifts them to kiss the back of your hand. “have i told you how hot you look, by the way?”

“reckon you mentioned it a couple of times, yeah.”

“wouldn't hurt if i reiterated it once more, would it?”

“not at all.”

“good,” you wink, and matty has to actively fight the urge to kick his feet in excitement. “because it's genuinely all i've been able to think about the whole day, how hot my man is.”

he lets one foot scuff against the grass at that. your man. fuck, how he adores hearing those words from your lips. “can always count on you for the correct opinion, darling.”

you giggle, and his heart soars. “nah, how hot you are is a matter of fact, babe,” your free hand comes up to rest against his cheek; he leans into it, lazy-happy, sighing softly when you stroke the stubbled skin with your thumb. when you next speak, your voice is as tender as matty's ever heard it. “beautiful boy. i love you.”

matty kisses your palm, then leans in to do the same to your lips. it's quick, and it's soft, but the mutual adoration still shines through. “i love you too, gorgeous. especially in this dress.”

“really?” you fiddle with the shoulder strap, in a way that matty recognises as subtle self-consciousness; so subtle, in fact, that he'd put money on being the only person who knows you well enough to spot it. “wasn't really sure about the yellow on me, to be honest. but frankie loved it, and it's her big day, so…”

“nah, it looks amazing. honest,” matty smiles. “you look like sunshine. my little sunbeam.”

“that is the sappiest thing you've ever said.”

“and you fucking loved it. can't keep the smile off your face, can you?”

“shut up,” you mutter, doing your utmost to bite back the smile in question and failing miserably. your cheeks have reddened, too, and you pull your hand away from matty's to try and fan them back to normal. “god, i'm roasting.”

your boyfriend pats the bench beside him. “d'you want to sit next to me, then? get out of the sun?”

“i always want to sit next to you,” comes your reply as you make your way round, so casually sweet and yet so beautifully devastating to matty. he tugs you close when you sit down, dropping a kiss to the top of your head and smiling to himself at the way you just melt into him. “made me sad that i couldn't at the ceremony earlier.”

he hums in agreement. “surprised you managed to stay standing so long in those heels. and wrangle the ringbearer.”

“oh god, don't even,” you shake your head, grimacing as you recall having to scoop up the bride and groom's toddler to stop him careening back down the aisle in the middle of the ceremony. “i love jonah to bits, but that was too much responsibility for me.”

“makes sense it was you watching him, though, darling,” matty absentmindedly drops a kiss to your temple, a smile growing on his face at the memory of the little one snuggling into you. “what with you being his favourite aunt and all. no chance of him crying when you were holding him, was there?”

“christ, can you even imagine?” you shudder. “i'm even stressed about it in retrospect.”

“i know,” matty nods. “s'exactly why i don't want children in positions of importance at my wedding.”

he doesn't even realise what he's said until you twist away from him, leaning on the table and looking at him with a furrowed brow - an expression that would make him nervous if he didn't know you so well, if he couldn't spot the way your cheeks are twitching the exact way they do before you beam. “you've thought about your wedding?”

“well, yeah,” matty replies shyly, taking a long drink of coke as he thinks about what to say next. “haven't you?”

“yes, i have,” there's a cheeky glint in your eyes, and a dimple-revealing smirk on your lips; as much as matty thinks you look gorgeous like this, he's pretty sure at least some of the butterflies in his stomach are nervous ones. “got a couple of questions about yours, though, if i may.”

he braces himself. “go on.”

“firstly…”

god, that smirk. he's obsessed with you.

“...when you say you've thought about your wedding,” you continue, tilting your head. “do you mean that you've thought about it recently, or is it an i planned this when i was like twenty sort-of situation?”

matty clears his throat. “recently.”

“recently as in the last year, or…?”

he shakes his head, biting the inside of his cheek to stop a smirk of his own. “recently as in the last week.”

“oh,” you raise your eyebrows in genuine surprise, and your boyfriend decides to stop repressing his smile - yours stays put, too. “okay. so, when you were thinking about your wedding in the past seven days,” you rest your head on your hand, cheekily pressing your leg against matty's under the table. “were you picturing anyone specific as the bride?”

familiar visions of you in white fill his head, the same visions he has every night when you're curled into him in bed, fast asleep with a leg strewn over his and your face tucked into his chest. “yes, i was,” he nods. “it's the same person i picture every time.”

“and who is that person?”

matty sighs, but smiles as he shuffles closer to you, so close that your lips are almost touching. “you're really gonna make me say it?”

“mhmm,” you nod slowly. “tell me, please.”

“well, cos you asked so nicely,” your boyfriend leans in, past your lips, hands moving to rest on your lower back as he whispers in your ear. “it's you,” he kisses your neck, over and over, trailing a path back round to look at you - they're soft, but still enough to elicit a series of breathy moans from your lips and flush your cheeks. “it's only ever been you, my darling.”

“really?”

“aside from shannyn sossamon when i was like seventeen, yeah. i mean, nobody looks as good in white as you do,” matty laughs, a soft breathy thing that matches your own giggle, and presses his cola-flavoured lips to yours even more softly. “seriously, though, i love you more than anything, and i'd quite like it if we made this thing as permanent and official as we can. d'you like the sound of that, babe? marrying me?”

still half-kissing him, you murmur your reply; not for the first time in matty's life, the deliberate poignancy of your syntax almost makes him cry. “i do.”

yeah, he's buying you a ring tomorrow.

but first - he closes the millimetres-wide gap between you, smiling into you at the way you sigh happily and deepen the kiss. your thumb strokes the nape of matty's neck while your tongue lightly traces his lips, and even though the kiss is nowhere near as sexy as some of your other makeout sessions, it takes every bit of your boyfriend's self-control to remember you're in public and he can't actually lay you down on the tabletop and continue kissing down your body to the apex of your thighs.

as it turns out, he wouldn't get the chance even if he wanted to; when the now-familiar acoustic guitar intro starts blaring from inside the party, you gasp into the kiss, pulling away from matty with an expression of sheer joy. “oh my god! it's juno! can we-”

“yes, darling, we can go back inside,” matty rolls his eyes in faux-exasperation, but he can only maintain it for about a nanosecond before his smile returns - how could he not, when you're right in front of him, all post-kiss glow and beaming smile and eyes full of adoration for him? “god forbid you miss your favourite song.”

“don't be sarky, matthew.”

“m'not! i like it too, babe. mostly just when you sing along to it, though,” he helps you stand, smoothing down your dress and then promptly ruining his own handiwork by standing up and squeezing your ass; you make to protest, but your voice trails off when matty leans in to kiss your neck. “particularly enjoy the bit where you grab me and reiterate how fucking horny you are.”

you laugh, turning to face him again. “you're such a boy,” gently resting your hand on his cheek, you use it as leverage to pull yourself up to kiss him quickly again. “i love you very much, though.”

“i love you too,” matty kisses your nose, fighting the urge to coo at the adorable way you scrunch it up afterwards. “even when you're not using pop music to let me know how badly you want to fuck me.”

“and they said romance was dead,” you hum happily, kissing him a final time before leading him towards the door; you turn back to look at him before you open it, with a smile so beautiful it genuinely hurts matty's heart. “you know, you're gonna have to put up with me doing a full performance of this every time we hear it for the rest of our lives. it might be embarrassing. it might be annoying. it might be at the most inopportune time possible,” you giggle, and matty falls in love with you all over again. “d'you still want to marry me, in spite of that?”

he's never been more sure of an affirmative decision in his life.

[foreignjaykay]

company (a jungkook fic)

part three - "does chivalry come with the attire?"

can we keep each other company?

their workplace was chaos, but jungkook made it fun. their camaraderie was effortless—until he decided to leave. no big deal. people quit all the time. so why does it feel like everything is about to change?

pairing: jungkook x reader

genre: r18+ (angst, fluff) minors do not interact!

chapter warnings/misc: workplace!au, coworkers!au, event planner!jk, event planner!oc, jk is not famous, angst, fluff, sad, crack, event planner!mingyu, bts in event planning company, unserious friend group, they are so silly and unserious, , ANGST, IDIOTS both of them, OBLIVIOUSNESS LMAO, yeah you might feel like screaming at the screen i know, i know, some smau perhaps, MEMES!!!

notes: hello everyone!!! im somehow a day early lol to my schedule. thank the gods that i didn't procrastinate.. anywho, we get a little of jk's pov in this part!! the two of them are such idiots (said lovingly) that i cannot. im as frustrated as you are lol. enjoy and lemme know your thoughts <3

moodboard • playlist • series masterlist

“I’m telling Natasha today,” Jungkook’s famous last words that made your stomach twist, especially with the JW Blue Label Dinner event looming on your head.

You know you did a good job today by being unserious with him on texts and that too that early in the morning. You should get an award for being nonchalant. 

Also what was his new habit of texting you so early in the morning? 

The scent of strong office coffee filled the air, and your stomach churned. Natasha, back early somehow from her sun-soaked leave, swept into the office with an energy that was both a relief and a source of fresh anxiety.

How was Natasha going to react? was the question that ran through your mind. As much as it would be entertaining to watch her go through it, literally, it would also create chaos. Fun chaos but also a point of no return.

The morning was a slow, agonizing crawl. You were drowning in last-minute details for the JW Blue Label Dinner event, the pressure building with every unanswered email and ringing phone. You felt like you’d been running a marathon uphill, and Jungkook was still conspicuously absent. Typical.

Then, the elevator doors parted, and there he was. Jungkook. But… different. He was dressed in a crisp white shirt, a slim tie, and tailored pants. It was a stark contrast to his usual casual attire.

“Seriously?” you drawled, leaning back in your chair, your voice laced with playful disbelief. “You’re dressed like you’re going to a board meeting. Did someone finally tell you we’re not a streetwear company?”

“Also you didn’t even dress up when you came for your interview here,” You added, amused, which earned chuckles from both Mingyu and Shane. Jungkook dramatically rolled his eyes.

He grinned, striking a pose that was more runway model than office worker. “You know I clean up well.” He winked, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Maybe I can rizz Natasha up.”

And on count, along with you, Shane made a disgusted face.

Mingyu, perched precariously on your desk, nearly choked on his coffee. “Rizz Natasha? Dude, you’re going to give her a heart attack.”

Shane, sprawled across his chair, rolled his eyes dramatically. “Please, he’s got the ‘charm’ of a wet sock.”

You joined them, a playful eye roll of your own. “Oh, please,” you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “You couldn’t ‘rizz up’ a goldfish.”

“Ouch,” Jungkook chuckled, taking his seat, a mock-hurt expression on his face. “And for your information, I was held up. Had a few… delicate matters to attend to.”

“Delicate matters?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “Like what? And are we sure we are talking to Jeon Jungkook?” Mingyu and Shane grinned.

“You guys really take me for granted,” he said dramatically, his eyes twinkling. “And don’t worry your pretty little head about it.”

“Also I won’t be here for long so you guys better start respecting me,” He chuckled and that realisation hit you again. You quickly looked away, hoping he hadn’t noticed the way your heart skipped a beat.

It didn’t go unnoticed by Jungkook how your facial expression had changed when he said that.

Mingyu and Shane awkwardly glanced between the two of you, with Shane not being able to control his awkwardness.

“Sure, anyways,” Shane rolled his eyes dramatically and tried to divert the topic.

Before the conversation could go further, Yuna and Taehyung appeared at the entrance to the CS department. It was a rare sight for them to come here. Willingly. The design studio was their sanctuary, a realm of relative calm in the midst of the everyday office chaos.

“Lunch?” Yuna asked, her voice bright and cheerful. “It’s one-thirty already. You two have to leave by four, right?”

You glanced at the clock on your computer screen. One-thirty? How had the time flown by so quickly? You looked at Jungkook, and he had the same shocked expression. He really only had two hours left.

“Oh my god, you’re right!” you exclaimed, your stomach suddenly growling in protest. “Let’s go.”

The cafeteria was a rush of noise, the usual lunch crowd in full swing. You, Jungkook, Mingyu, Shane, Yuna, Taehyung, Namjoon, Jin, Hobi, Yoongi, Iseul, Jimin, and Dae found a large table in the corner, the “Survivors” gang ready for their midday break. At this point they had kept that large table just for you guys. Everyone in the office knew about your tight knit friendship which was built on office trauma.

“So,” Yuna started, her eyes fixed on Jungkook, her voice laced with curiosity. “Are you doing it? Today?”

Jungkook nodded, taking a large bite of his sandwich. “Yep. Today’s the day,”

“Nervous?” Taehyung asked, his eyes filled with a mix of amusement and concern.

Jungkook shrugged, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. “A little. But it has to be done.”

Shane, ever the curious one, leaned forward, his eyes wide with anticipation. “Can we watch?”

“Shane!” Yuna scolded, her cheeks flushing, but you could see the glint of amusement in her eyes.

“What? I’m just curious!” Shane defended himself, throwing his hands up in mock surrender.

“No but seriously can we?” You said, amused, and that earned you a high five from Shane. Is it obvious that joking is your coping mechanism?

“We’re all curious,” Mingyu admitted, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “I want to see Natasha’s face when he drops the bomb.”

“Imagine her face,” Hobi said, “It will be a masterpiece of shock and disbelief.”

“I’m sure she’ll take it well,” Jin said, his voice laced with sarcasm. “She’s known for her calm and reasonable reactions.” This earned a laugh from everyone. Thankfully no else in the lunchroom could hear you all.

“She’ll probably throw a fit,” Yoongi muttered, taking a sip of his coffee. “Or maybe she’ll just ignore him completely.”

“Or maybe she’ll cry,” Iseul suggested, her eyes twinkling. “A single, dramatic tear rolling down her cheek.”

“I’ll pay to watch this,” Both Shane and Mingyu said at the same time.

“Or maybe she will just give him a raise,” Jimin said, and everyone burst out laughing. 

“You know what? That’s a possibility,” You added.

Lunch passed quickly, filled with jokes, laughter, and a healthy dose of nervous energy. As the time approached, the tension within the group grew.

“Okay, it’s almost time,” Shane whispered, checking his watch, his eyes darting towards Natasha’s office. “Ten minutes to D-Day.”

You all found yourselves hovering near Natasha’s cabin, trying to look casual, but failing miserably. Shane was practically bouncing on the balls of his feet, his eyes glued to the door. Even Yuna, usually so composed, was fidgeting nervously, adjusting her earrings every few seconds.

Finally, Jungkook took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and walked towards Natasha’s office. The door clicked shut behind him, and the “Survivors” gang held their breath, a collective gasp escaping their lips.

“Good luck,” is all you said when he entered her cabin and gave you a weak smile. Something that Yuna and Namjoon picked up on and smirked to themselves.

You had to be supportive. For him.

Minutes ticked by, each one feeling like an eternity. You could hear muffled voices from inside, but couldn’t make out any words. The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife.

Then, the door opened, and Jungkook stepped out. His expression was… unreadable. He looked at you all, a small, almost cryptic smile playing on his lips.

“Well?” Shane blurted out, his voice a high-pitched squeak. Of course Shane was the first one wanting to clock the tea.

Jungkook glanced at Natasha, who was watching them from her desk, her eyes narrowed. He smirked. “We’ll discuss in the GC.”

A collective groan went up from the group, a chorus of disappointment.

“Natasha’s watching us like a hawk,” Jungkook explained, his voice low, his eyes still on her. “She’s probably got a recording device hidden somewhere.”

The group dispersed, trying to look busy, but the excitement was palpable, a tangible energy buzzing through the air.

Jungkook walked over to you, his eyes searching for yours. “Ready to go?” he asked, his voice softer than usual.

You looked at him, a strange mix of curiosity and something else—a flutter of nerves—in your chest. “Yeah,” you said, your voice slightly breathless.

The two of you gathered your things and headed out of the office.  As you walked towards his car, Jungkook finally broke the silence.

“So,” he began, his voice slightly hesitant, “it’s done.”

“Yeah,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “How did it go?”

“It… it went okay,” he said, a small smile playing on his lips. “Natasha wasn’t exactly thrilled, but she didn’t throw a fit either.”

“That’s… good,” you said, your eyes fixed on the pavement.

He opened the car door for you, a gentlemanly gesture that only heightened the tension. As you slid into the passenger seat, you couldn’t help but notice the way his hand lingered on the door, a brief moment of contact that sent a shiver down your spine.

“Does chivalry come with the attire?” You joked your awkwardness away and he huffed in a playful manner.

He then closed the door and walked around to the driver’s side. As he started the engine, the silence stretched, thick and heavy.

The car ride was filled with the tension, which was now familiar to both you and Jungkook, a heavy silence that hung in the air.

No matter how hard you tried, even the awkward jokes, yes, that uneasy feeling stayed with you.

“I know you can’t keep this in your stomach longer, JK. Just tell me what exactly happened in that cabin,” You said and Jungkook chuckled.

“Fine, fine,” Jungkook said and here goes his story time.

Inside Natasha’s office, Jungkook stood before her desk, his heart pounding in his chest. He’d rehearsed this moment a hundred times, but now, the words seemed to catch in his throat.

“So what brings you here?” This is how Natasha starts the conversation. Jungkook knew he was done for.

“Natasha I wanted to talk about something,” he began, his voice steady, and her eyes tried to gauge for what was coming next, “I’ve accepted another position.”

Natasha’s eyes widened slightly, but her expression remained composed. “Oh?” she said, her voice cool and professional. “And where might you be going?”

“An event company,” Jungkook said, his voice firm. “They focus on live concerts, world tours—it’s what I’ve always wanted to do.”

Natasha leaned back in her chair, her eyes narrowing slightly. “And when were you planning on telling me this?”

“Today,” Jungkook said, his voice unwavering. “I wanted to give you ample notice.”

Natasha nodded, her expression unreadable. “And how much notice do you consider ample Jungkook?”

“Two weeks,” Jungkook said. He was confident about this, something that didn’t sit well with her.

Natasha’s eyes flickered towards the door, where the rest of the team was trying to look inconspicuous. “Very well,” she said, her voice clipped. “We’ll discuss the details later once Kim Song is back in town. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.”

Jungkook nodded, a sense of relief washing over him. He turned and walked out of the office,  and now his eyes met yours.

“Bitch,” is what you said once Jungkook was done sharing. Jungkook couldn’t help but chuckle. You were on a roll today.

“This is how she reacts when you tell her you are leaving,” You said annoyed. Natasha was selfish, yes, but this is genuinely not how you expected the conversation to go. Maybe she was better at taking news than you.

“I think you just wanted more drama, ___” Jungkook mused.

“Duh!” You said as a matter of factly. "She acted nothing like Monotoya," He laughed.

“Wait, didn’t you react like that?” He teased you.

Oh hell no. He didn’t just say that. Was there a way he was inside your mind?

“You wish!” You said a little too quickly.

“Believe me I do,” He laughed.

Yes he was joking. He had to be. Right?

“Wishful thinking,” You said and ended the conversation there.

The car ride continued, the silence less heavy now, but still filled with an undercurrent of tension. You could feel Jungkook’s gaze on you every now and then, but you avoided his eyes, your heart pounding in your chest.

The weight of unspoken words still hung in the air, but now, it was mixed with a sense of anticipation, a feeling that something was about to shift, to change.

The JW Blue Label Dinner event was in full swing, the venue transformed into a sophisticated space, all blue lighting, a nod to Blue Label and the rich aroma of aged whiskey. You were a whirlwind of activity, ensuring every detail was perfect, a well-oiled machine in your element. Rowoon, the client, had arrived early, a familiar face amidst the pre-event hustle.

Rowoon was the best client you had. In fact, when you and Jungkook had started working together, Rowoon was the first client the two of you dealt with without Natasha’s inteference.

“You know, ___,” Rowoon said, leaning against a nearby table, “you always make these events look effortless. It’s like magic.”

You chuckled, adjusting the floral arrangement. “Magic and a lot of caffeine, Rowoon.”

“Well, whatever you’re doing, it’s working,” he said, his eyes scanning the room. “Everything looks phenomenal.”

“Thanks,” you said, a genuine smile spreading across your face. “We’re just hoping it lives up to the Blue Label standard.”

Rowoon nodded, a thoughtful expression on his face. “Speaking of standards, where’s your partner in crime? I haven’t seen Jungkook yet.”

“He’s around,” you said, glancing towards the far side of the room. “Probably making sure the whiskey display is perfect.”

 As if it was known to him that his name was brought up in the conversation, just then Jungkook joins the conversation, a relaxed smile on his face. "Hey, guys. Everything set?"

"Absolutely," Rowoon said, clapping Jungkook on the shoulder. "You've outdone yourselves. The whiskey display is a work of art. Really sets the tone."

"Thanks, Rowoon," Jungkook said, a hint of pride in his voice. "We wanted to make sure it was something special."

"You two always deliver," Rowoon said, his gaze shifting between you and Jungkook. "It's like you can read each other's minds."

Something so simple yet made you feel tense.

You chuckled, "We've worked together long enough, I guess."

"Speaking of which," Jungkook said, his tone casual, almost offhand, "I've got some news,” Rowoon looked at him, intrigued. “I'm actually moving on to another company." Jungkook continued.

The announcement, dropped so casually, hung in the air for a moment. Rowoon's eyebrows rose slightly. "Seriously? When did that happen?"

"Just today," Jungkook said, shrugging slightly. 

"Wow, that's a big step," Rowoon said, his voice sincere. "Congratulations, Jungkook. But, man, you two make a great team. It's a shame to see you split up."

“Yep this one is leaving us,” You weren’t sure why it came out this way. You swear you weren’t trying to be mean but it’s like your mind had no control when that slipped up.

You immediately looked towards Jungkook and saw a flicker of something in his gaze, a mix of regret and something else you couldn't quite decipher.

You immediately regretted it.

“But I’m happy for him. Finally going to live his dream,” You said genuinely and patted his back. Rowoon smiled at the camaraderie.

Not wanting to see Jungkook’s reaction further, you excused yourself with a quick, "I need to check on the catering," and moved away, leaving Jungkook and Rowoon to continue their conversation.

As you walked away, Jungkook's gaze followed you. He watched as you navigated the room, your movements graceful and efficient. He saw the way you interacted with the catering staff, your instructions clear and concise, your demeanor calm and collected.

You were truly in your element, he thought, a sense of admiration washing over him. He knew you were so good at what you did. Proud - was the word he always felt for you but also admired. He admired you, was grateful he worked with you and learnt so much from you.

But it wasn’t just those feelings he felt for you.

He shook his head slightly, trying to clear his thoughts. Maybe it was just the event. The atmosphere. The pressure.

 But deep down, he knew it was more than that. He knew that something was shifting, something was changing. That you both were changing.

Rowoon cleared his throat, bringing Jungkook back to the present. "So, you're really leaving? That's a big change. Where are you headed?"

"An event company that focuses on concerts and tours," Jungkook said, his eyes still subconsciously drifting towards your retreating figure. "It's always been my passion."

"That's fantastic, Jungkook," Rowoon said, patting him on the shoulder. "You'll do great. But seriously, like I said earlier, you and ___ are a force to be reckoned with. It's a shame to see you split up."

"Yeah," Jungkook said, his voice low. "It is."

"You know," Rowoon continued, "I've always admired the way you two work together. It's like you have this… unspoken understanding. You just click."

Jungkook nodded, his gaze still fixed on you. "Yeah, we do."

"It's rare to find that kind of synergy," Rowoon said, shaking his head slightly. "You're going to be hard to replace."

"Thanks, Rowoon," Jungkook said, a small smile playing on his lips. "I appreciate that."

The conversation shifted back to the event, the details of the evening, the guest list. But the undercurrent of Jungkook's announcement lingered, a subtle tension that hung in the air.

The event was a success. As it was expected from both of you.

“Goodnight, __ See you in hell tomorrow,” Jungkook said and you laughed and opened the door of his car. 

“Hey! At least you have a countdown to leave,” Look how the tables have turned. You were joking about this situation now, knowing damn well, you were gonna overthink this once he leaves.

And that’s what happens when he leaves once you reach the gate of your apartment building, a habit he had, you noticed. Always only leaves once you enter the gate, even though he is the one who was always dropping you.

Kinda made you feel something.

Once you entered the lobby and went towards the elevator, you heard a ting sound on your phone. At least that distracted you from the overthinking that was going to happen later. It was 12AM, who was texting you at this hour?

You opened your phone to check and saw this notification.

shane (work) added you to a group “jk - farewell planning!!!!🥲😫🎉”

Perfect end to the night.

part 4

© foreignjaykay

[pandacherryblossoms]

𐙚 Too Little, Too Late? 𐙚

Part Two of Toxic Fwb Jake

wc: 2.4k

Genre: Angst, Smut, Fluff.. MDNI 18+

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, rough sex, emotional sex, desperation & possessiveness, begging & pleading, marking/possessiveness, angst-driven intimacy

Jake always thought you’d come back.

That’s how it had always been—you got mad, he let you cool down, and eventually, things went back to normal. No matter what he did, no matter how much he pushed you away, you never really left.

This time was different. You ignored the knocking.

Jake’s voice was muffled through the door, frustration bleeding into every word. “Open up, damn it.”

You stayed on the couch, staring at your phone as his name flashed across the screen for the tenth time that night. You were done playing his games—done answering his late-night calls, done being the girl he ran to when he wanted to feel something, only to be discarded the next morning like none of it mattered.

Except it had mattered. And now, as he pounded on your door, demanding your attention like he hadn’t been treating you like an option for months, you finally found the strength to shut him out.

The knocking stopped. Your heart pounded as you listened for his next move, but all you heard was silence. Minutes passed. You told yourself not to care, that this was exactly what you wanted. But when you finally peeked through the peephole, your chest tightened. Jake was still there, forehead resting against the door like he was willing himself not to break.

You squeezed your eyes shut and turned away. You couldn’t let him back in. Not this time.

At first he told himself you just needed space. You’d come around.

Days passed. Then weeks.

For the first time, Jake knew what it felt like to be the one waiting. The one hoping. The one desperate.

So he tried harder.

It started with messages—ones he hoped would remind you of what you had before everything got complicated.

Jake: “I know I messed up.”

Jake: “Can we talk?”

Jake: “Please.”

You ignored them, when your fingers twitched over the keyboard, when your heart screamed at you to reply. You couldn’t afford to fall back into the cycle. Then came the gestures. Flowers at your doorstep. Your favorite kind. No note, just left there early in the morning before you even woke up. Lunch dropped off at your job, always exactly what you liked. Jake waiting outside when your shift ended, leaning against his car like he hadn’t spent the past few weeks pretending you didn’t mean anything. You declined the ride every time. He didn’t push.

Instead, he sent texts about things you thought he’d forgotten.

Jake: “Remember that summer we spent at the lake? You made me jump off that huge rock even though I was scared shitless.”

Jake: “Or when you snuck us into that concert? Still the best night of my life.”

Jake: “You were my best friend before any of this. I don’t want to lose that. I don’t want to lose you.”

You stared at your screen, conflicted, because this wasn’t just about sex anymore. This was Jake—the boy who used to make you laugh until you cried, the boy who always knew exactly what to say to make you feel like the most important person in the world.

So, finally, you agreed to talk.

Jake stood at your doorstep again, but this time, you let him in. He looked different—tired, restless. His usual confidence was stripped away, replaced with something raw.

“You really weren’t gonna talk to me, huh?” His voice was quiet.

You crossed your arms. “I didn’t see the point.”

His jaw tensed. “The point is… I fucked up.” He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. “I treated you like shit. I don’t know why I did it. Maybe because I was scared, maybe because I didn’t know how to deal with how I felt about you. I don’t know. But I do know I can’t stand the thought of you not being in my life.”

Your chest tightened. “Jake…”

“I love you,” he said it like he’d been holding it in for too long, like it had been clawing its way out of him. “I was just too much of a coward to admit it.”

You searched his face, waiting for the usual deflections, the casual indifference he always used as a shield. But it wasn’t there. This was real.

You let out a slow breath. “You can’t just say that and expect everything to be okay.”

“I know.” His voice was steady. “I don’t expect anything. But I want to fix this. I want to fix us.”

Silence stretched between you, thick with everything unsaid. Then, finally, you stepped forward. Jake didn’t move, didn’t even breathe as you reached up, brushing your fingers along his jaw. His eyes flickered with something desperate, something hopeful.

“Then show me,” you whispered.

He did. The first kiss was hesitant, almost uncertain, but when you didn’t pull away—when you pressed closer, letting your fingers slide into his hair—he melted into you. A quiet groan rumbled in his chest as his hands found your waist, pulling you flush against him.

It had been too long. Too much time wasted. His lips trailed along your jaw, down to the soft spot beneath your ear.

“Missed you,” he murmured against your skin, voice rough, like he was barely holding himself back.

You tilted your head, letting out a quiet sigh as he kissed down your neck, his hands warm and steady where they held you. The warmth of his body against yours sent a shiver down your spine, and suddenly, all the anger, all the hurt, melted into something else.

You pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, breathless. “Let’s take this to the room.”

His grip on you tightened slightly. “Are you sure?”

You nodded. “Yes.”

Something flickered in his gaze—relief, want, something deeper. Jake exhaled slowly, his forehead resting against yours for just a second. Then, without another word, he took your hand, lacing your fingers together as you led him toward the bedroom.

The door to the bedroom clicked shut behind you, leaving nothing but the soft glow of the streetlights filtering through the blinds to illuminate the space. Jake’s hand was still in yours, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand. It was a gesture you had always found comforting, a silent promise that no matter what happened, he’d be there.

You turned to face him, the weight of your decision settling heavily on your shoulders. The room felt smaller, the air thick with unspoken words and unresolved tension. For a moment, you just stared at each other, the silence stretching out like a tightrope between you.

Then, Jake took a step closer, his eyes searching yours for any sign of doubt. He lifted his free hand, cupping your cheek with a gentle touch. His thumb brushed over your skin, and you felt the warmth of his breath on your face.

“I know I don’t deserve this. But I’ll spend every minute making it up to you, if you’ll let me,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

You felt your resolve wavering, the warmth of his hand on your cheek making you want to believe him. You leaned into his touch, his thumb tracing a comforting path over your cheekbone.

“I don’t want to be hurt again, Jake,” you whispered, your eyes searching his for any hint of insincerity.

His gaze never left yours. “I know. And I promise you, I won’t let that happen. I’m going to prove it to you every day.”

Jake leaned in, closing the distance between your mouths with a gentle kiss that held all the apologies he couldn’t voice. It was sweet, tender, and it made your heart ache with a yearning you hadn’t realized was still there. The kiss grew deeper, hungrier, and your hands found their way to his shoulders, gripping the fabric of his shirt as if you were trying to hold on to the feeling.

He pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around your waist, lifting you off the ground slightly. You wrapped your legs around him, feeling his strength as he carried you to the bed, setting you down with a gentle thud. The mattress sank under his weight as he hovered over you, his eyes never leaving yours.

The kisses grew more urgent, his hands sliding up your sides to cradle your face as his thumbs traced the outline of your jaw. You could feel the desperation in his touch, the fear of losing you forever. But it was mixed with something else—a fierce determination to make things right, to be the person you deserved.

You reached up and unbuttoned his shirt, letting it fall open to reveal the firm planes of his chest. His skin was warm, the beat of his heart a steady rhythm against your palms. He pulled back, eyes dark with want, and helped you off with his shirt. Your own breath hitched as his bare chest met yours, the sensation sending a jolt of electricity through you.

Jake’s hands paused at the hem of your shirt. “May I?”

You nodded, letting him lift it over your head. His gaze roamed over you, taking in every inch of your exposed skin as if he were memorizing you. The way he looked at you—like you were the most precious thing he’d ever seen—was almost enough to make you forget

With trembling hands, Jake reached for the clasp of your bra, his eyes never leaving yours. You felt a flutter in your stomach as the material fell away, the coolness of the room meeting the heat of your skin. He kissed you again, his mouth moving with a newfound urgency, his hands exploring the curves of your body as if it were the first time.

You could feel the tension in his muscles, the restrained power in every touch. It was intoxicating, making you want to melt into him. You arched your back, pressing closer, your breasts brushing against his bare chest. His mouth trailed down, leaving a hot path of kisses across your collarbone, down to the peak of your breasts. His hands skimmed over your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

With a gentle tug, he pulled you onto your side, his hand slipping down to unbutton your jeans. His touch was slow, deliberate, as if he were savoring every moment. You could feel your heart racing, every inch of you alive with anticipation.

As your jeans slid off, his hand found the bare skin of your hip, his thumb tracing small circles there. The sensation was maddening, making you squirm against the bed. Jake’s eyes never left yours, watching for your reaction, making sure you were okay with every step he took.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

You felt a blush creep up your cheeks. Despite everything, his words had the power to make you feel cherished. You reached for the button of his own jeans, feeling the tension coil even tighter.

With a nod, Jake allowed you to push his jeans down, his boxers following. The sight of him—bare and vulnerable—sent a wave of desire crashing through you. You took a moment to appreciate the way his muscles flexed, the way his skin felt against yours. He was yours again, and it was a feeling you hadn’t realized how much you missed.

He slid his hand up your thigh, his fingertips brushing against the dampness of your underwear. You gasped into his mouth, your body responding to his touch as if it had been programmed to do so. He paused, his eyes searching yours for consent. You nodded, unable to find words to express the need building inside you.

Jake slid your underwear down, his touch feather-light as he revealed you to him. He kissed you deeply, his hand cupping you, his thumb finding the sensitive spot that made your hips buck. You moaned into his mouth, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he touched you with a reverence that was almost overwhelming.

He broke the kiss, his breath warm against your neck. “I want to take care of you tonight,” he whispered. “Let me make you feel good. Let me show you how much you mean to me.”

You nodded, your breath hitching as his hand slid away from your center, leaving you feeling exposed and needy. Jake leaned down, pressing his lips to your neck, his teeth grazing your skin as he kissed his way down your body. His mouth found your breast, his tongue circling your nipple before taking it into his mouth. You arched into his touch, the sensation making your toes curl.

He kissed across your stomach, his hands ghosting over your hips before sliding them under your thighs, urging you to open for him. His mouth was hot and wet against your core, his tongue stroking you in a way that made you forget everything except for this moment. You tangled your fingers in his hair, holding him closer as he tasted you, explored you, worshipped you.

The sensations built, coiling tighter and tighter until you were panting, your hips moving in time with his rhythm. He knew exactly what you liked, how to make you fall apart in his arms. You felt yourself teetering on the edge, the pressure building until you couldn’t hold back anymore.

Jake’s eyes never left yours as he slid two fingers inside you, his thumb pressing against your clit. You bit your lip, trying to muffle the sounds that spilled from your mouth. He watched you, his gaze intense, as he pushed you closer to the brink.

The room filled with the sound of your breathy moans, the scent of your arousal heavy in the air. His mouth moving against your inner thigh, kissing, nipping, until you were on the edge. He knew your body like a map, had memorized every curve and hollow. His fingers danced in and out of you, curling to hit that spot that made your vision swim. You gripped his hair tighter, urging him on as you climbed higher and higher.

And then you shattered. Your back arched off the bed, a keening cry escaping your lips as your orgasm crashed through you like a wave. Jake held you through it, his mouth and hands never stopping their sweet torment until you were limp, boneless.

He kissed his way back up your body, his eyes never leaving yours as he positioned himself at your entrance. “You ready for me?”

You nodded, still riding the aftershocks of your climax. His tip pushed in slowly, stretching you, filling you. You gasped, the sensation overwhelming, and wrapped your legs around his waist to pull him closer. He sank into you with a groan, his eyes closing in pleasure.

Every inch of him was perfection, sliding in so easily it was as if your bodies had never been apart. You felt a tear slip down your cheek as he started to move, his strokes long and deep. It was like he was claiming you all over again, proving to you that he wasn’t going anywhere.

Jake’s eyes searched yours, his expression one of pure, unbridled passion. You could see the love in his gaze, the regret, the fear of losing you forever. And as he moved within you, you realized that maybe—just maybe—you could forgive him. Maybe this time, things would be different.

He leaned down, his forehead pressing against yours as he kissed you, his movements inside you growing more urgent. You atched his rhythm, your hips rising to meet his, the friction sending sparks through your veins. You could feel the tension building in him, the muscles in his arms and back tightening with every thrust.

“You feel so good,” he murmured against your lips.

You nodded, your breaths coming in short gasps as he filled you completely. The sensation was exquisite, the ache of his love mixed with the sweet agony of his apology. You tightened your legs around him, urging him deeper, wanting to erase the space between you.

Jake’s eyes searched yours, and you saw the storm of emotions within—the need, the regret, the hope. His hips rolled into yours with a gentle force that had you moaning his name. Each stroke was a promise, a vow to be the man you needed. You could feel your walls start to crumble, the anger and hurt slowly giving way to a love so potent it made your heart ache.

His thumb found your clit again, stroking it in time with his thrusts. The pressure grew, coiling in your belly, and you clung to him, your nails digging into his back. His teeth grazed your ear, his breath hot as he whispered, “I love you. I’m sorry. I won’t let you go again. I promise.”

You believed him. You had to. You needed to.

As he continued to move inside you, every stroke seemed to echo with those three little words that held so much weight. You felt yourself rising again, the tension building once more. His eyes never left yours, and you knew he could see it—the way you were losing yourself in him, in this moment.

With a final, deep thrust, Jake sent you spiraling over the edge for a second time. You cried out his name, the sound muffled by his own moan as he followed you, his release hot and powerful inside you. He held you tightly, his entire body shaking with the intensity of it all.

For a few moments, the only sounds in the room were your mingled breaths—the quiet aftermath of passion. Jake’s weight pressed you into the mattress, but it was a comforting feeling—a reminder that he wasn’t going anywhere. He kissed you softly, his forehead resting against yours.

He sighed, rubbing the back of his neck, his eyes flickering between yours and the ground, like he was trying to find the right words. “I don’t think I can do this anymore,” he said, his voice low but steady.

Your stomach twisted. “Do what?”

“This—” he gestured between the two of you, exhaling sharply. “Pretend like I’m okay just being your friend when I’m not.” He finally looked at you, and there was something different in his gaze—something raw, like he had already decided he was done holding back.

“I’ve tried,” he continued. “Tried to push it down, tried to be cool about it, but it’s not working. It never worked.” His jaw tightened for a second before he shook his head, laughing softly like he couldn’t believe he was actually saying this out loud. “I like you. More than I should if we’re just friends. And I don’t want to sit here acting like that’s not true.”

His hand brushed yours—hesitant, like he was giving you a chance to stop him before he went any further. “So, tell me now if this is one-sided, and I’ll drop it,” he said. “But if it’s not… then let’s stop pretending.” His voice softened as he finally asked, “Be with me?”

For a second, the only thing you could do was stare at him, heartbeat pounding in your ears. His words hung in the air between you, waiting—he was waiting.

Then, before you could overthink it, you reached for his hand, fingers sliding between his like it was the most natural thing in the world. “It’s not one-sided,” you whispered. “It never was.”

His breath caught, and for a moment, he just looked at you, like he was trying to memorize this exact second. Then his grip tightened around your hand, and a slow, relieved smile spread across his face—one that made your chest feel warm, like everything was clicking into place.

“So,” he murmured, stepping a little closer, his free hand lifting to cup the side of your face, his thumb brushing your cheek. “That means you’ll be mine?”

You nodded, feeling breathless. “Yeah,” you whispered, barely getting the word out before he was leaning in.

The kiss was soft at first—like he was savoring it, like he was still in disbelief that this was actually happening. But then his fingers tangled in your hair, pulling you just a little closer, and you melted into him, your hands gripping his hoodie to keep him right there.

By the time you broke apart, you were both smiling like idiots, foreheads resting together as he whispered, “Took us long enough.”

You laughed, your heart still racing. “Yeah,” you breathed. “But it was worth the wait.”

…..………………………………..:><:………………………………………….

I hope this makes up for the harshness of the first part…😄

Taglist: @xikersgurly @sunheenan14 @juicygirl4life @sillyjjongsaeng @nuyeaj @pookiewookiedookiesoobie @cvntyjake @mrsbyun-baek @xoenhaxo @justtsss22 @jakesimsprincesss

[diaperfags-blog]

Diaperfag training: Day 4

Day out

The city was loud, chaotic, a symphony of car horns, distant chatter, and the occasional siren. Sitting in the passenger seat of my own car, I felt small. So small. The thick padding between my legs, the Northshore diaper stuffed with two Waddler inserts, was a constant reminder of the life I’d chosen. Or rather, the life I’d given up.

As we drove through the streets, the noise of the city seemed to press in on me from all sides. I glanced out the window and saw him—a man in a sleek, expensive car, windows down, arm casually resting on the doorframe. He exuded confidence, success, a kind of effortless masculinity that I used to think I wanted. That could’ve been me, I thought, a pang of longing twisting in my chest. But it wasn’t. Not anymore.

Instead, there I was, slumped in the passenger seat, my thick diaper sagging under the weight of my piss. Pathetic, I thought, the word echoing in my mind like a mantra. I shifted uncomfortably, the dampness against my skin a stark contrast to the man in the car, who seemed so untouchable, so free.

We parked and walked through the city, my movements awkward and stilted, the bulk of my diaper making me feel clumsy, exposed. I tried to carry myself with confidence, but it was gone, stripped away by the thick padding between my legs. I kept my head down, avoided eye contact, and felt a new kind of vulnerability I’d never known before. Was this how it felt to be small? Every noise—a car honking, a raised voice—made me flinch. I felt like a child, scared and unsure of the world around me.

The day was a blur. I couldn’t focus. All I could think about was my diaper, how heavy it was, how full. I’d been in the same one all day.

When we got back to the car, I felt a wave of relief. At least here, in the relative privacy of the vehicle, I could let go a little

I thought about the man in the nice car again. Why couldn’t that have been me? I had everything, once. All the potential in the world ahead of me, a good job, a life that looked normal, successful. And I threw it all away. For this. For diapers, for humiliation, for a life of submission. Was it worth it? I didn’t know. All I knew was that I didn’t have a choice anymore.

I took out my phone and messaged Daddy. “What does my week look like?” I asked, my fingers trembling slightly as I typed.

He replied almost instantly. “Anal stretching starts tomorrow. Thirty minutes a day for now just to get you into it. Every day no exceptions. You’ll be exposed weekly now aswell.”

My stomach churned at the thought. Exposure. The word alone was enough to make me feel sick. Daddy had already posted a good number of videos of me. But now it would be weekly. Weekly exposure, weekly humiliation. Accumulated hours worth of footage of me degrading myself stuck on the internet forever.

I thought about the video I’d sent him, the one where I’d begged him to keep me in diapers forever. I’d been so desperate, so out of control. Watching it back had been soul-crushing. I couldn’t bear the thought of that being online, where anyone could see it. Please, not that one, I thought, my chest tightening with anxiety.

But I knew it didn’t matter what I wanted. This was Daddy’s decision now. Not mine. Never mine.

I went inside and took pictures of my soaked diaper, sending them to Daddy with a message. “Thank you for keeping me trapped in diapers.” The words felt strange coming out of me, but they were true. I was grateful, in a twisted way. Grateful to be stripped of my choices, of my old life.

But as I lay down that night, the weight of my diaper pressing into me, I couldn’t shake the image of the man in the nice car. That could’ve been me, I thought again, the words echoing in the darkness. But it’s not. And it never will be.

I closed my eyes and tried to sleep, but the noise of the city lingered in my mind, a constant reminder of the life I’d left behind. Was it worth it? I still didn’t know. But it didn’t matter. This was my life now. Whether I liked it or not.

[fountainpenguin]

wait I just rewatched the Double Life clip [9 minutes into Martyn's Ep. #2] and what do you mean Martyn's mom set up a visit with both him and her date (Ren) on the same night. I thought I made that part up when I wrote "Mum's the Word."

Mine was just charcuterie, but no, the canon is that she made Martyn a full spaghetti dinner before she goes on her date with Ren. why did she do that. Is she also eating with Ren? Is Ren at the spaghetti dinner? Maybe they planned a date where they don't eat? Is Ren picking her up at the same house Martyn is eating dinner at??

Most important of all, was Martyn eating his spaghetti the way IRL Martyn did (in his Secret Life merch ad read) when Ren walked in??? Inquiring minds need to know!

Also rewatched the clip in 3rd Life where Martyn calls his dad [8 minutes into Jimmy's Ep. #4] and it's driving me insane... Martyn's just there in front of his friends, pleading on the phone for his dad to take 5 seconds to talk to him... His dad just wants him to make it quick because he's watching TV (and gives him irrelevant "I'm a butt man myself, son" advice), and Martyn still gives a chipper "I love you, Dad" when the call ends. That's so silly.

Like... The assumption there is that that's how Martyn's dad always talks to him. Martyn isn't hurt he got brushed off... He's used to it. That's just how his dad is.

This is assuming we're taking the roleplay literally and that Martyn's parents are on the other end of the phone, but there's also the chance that in-universe, Martyn ALSO did the voices, which makes his multiple attempts to block Ren from his mom so much funnier.

Ren trying to cut in while Martyn gives his 'I love you, bye': Martyn, Martyn- Can you ask her if we're still on for later? Martyn, staring Ren down from his higher perch on the fence: Sorry; she hung up. It was too late. BigB in the background: OOOHOOHHH! Ren literally 1 minute later: Here's the deal. You get the carrots as long as you take me to the deep dark with you. And you let your mum know I say hello.

Martyn & his parents & Ren is my favorite weird dynamic... Total mental image of Martyn standing there crossly, looking away while holding out his phone so Ren and his mom can talk.

Ren calls her "Mrs. Littlewood" and she calls Ren "dear." Is she still married to Martyn's dad?? Ren, what on earth? You can't be doing this, man- BigB is listening and will be getting a gift from his secret soulmate at the end of this episode. You're giving him some really mixed signals there.

I have to assume the "They can look, just don't touch" rules that Ren gives BigB later are also in play for this date? Which is actually hilarious. Yes date. No touch.

Then Martyn's mom goes off about how this relationship "never works" because "Ren doesn't listen," but she still wants to go out with him. Ma'am?? What are you doing?

Every call is such big "Oh, that's why Martyn is like that" energy if you take it serious, sdklfj... Vying for attention because he gets so little of it from his dad, and clearly makes the effort to hang out with his mom and eat her spaghetti, but gets dismissed for others anyway.

Big "nobody's favorite" energy, yet he's all smiles and "I love you"s on the phone anyway. Never complaining about it, just trying to keep a positive attitude.

Martyn: You sent 16 boxes of parsnips to my mother? Ren: All I want is for the girl to like me, you know? I'm trying so hard, Martyn. I'm trying so hard. Martyn: That's your problem right there- She's not a girl, she's a woman. And you are acting like a boy. That's the problem right here; that's the problem. She needs a real man.

It makes me chortle every time I think about it... Two weird guys. One's getting passed over by his mom in favor of the other, but he'll defend her anyway.

Shout-out to Ren in 3rd Life like "I can't lay Martyn off work; he's got a family!" and Martyn is just there with zero family, pretending to look woeful.

Cursed alt joke: The reason why Martyn likes "Fairly OddParents" is because it reminds him of his own family--

[dearest-meat-mutt]

“Why are you hiding your phone? You shouldn’t have any you’d want to hide on your ph-“ I get that but have you considered that I do not want to hear you ask about anything that I have on my screen? Like hi mom, oh this? This is a just fan-drawn image of Kim Kitsuragi from hit political, psychological, detective video game, Disco Elysium, on hit website Tumblr.com. No, I have not played the game before. No, I don’t think I will. No, I don’t think it has a lot to do with discos. No, I do not know what Elysium means. Yes, I actively sought out this image. Yes, I like this character. No, I didn’t draw it. Why did I look for images of this character? I just think he’s…neat, and I’m still trying to figure out if I wanna play this game. Yeah, I know to be careful on the internet. Yeah, ik most of your thoughts and opinions on politics and video games and art and Asian men. I do not particularly care. I am aight with politics. I do like video games. I like all art, yes, including anime and also before mentioned video games. I do like most men significantly and equally. I do know this is ironic given that I dress like a butch lesbian. Thank you for sharing your thoughts, though. Yes, it is regarded as a good game. No, I do not know if it’s a good game by your standards. I have Not played this game. Yeah, my battery is at 46% but I’ll charge it later. Yeah, the art style is “interesting”. No, the person who drew it is not my friend. Yeah, I like this artist. No, I don’t think I would recommend this fanartist’s work to you. Yeah, I like tumblr. No, I would NOT recommend getting a tumblr. For no reason in particular. Yeah, I can like and comment and reblog. Reblog means I showcase another person’s post on my own profile. It’s like Pinterest. I have lost over 15 years of my lifespan since we’ve started talking.

[dear-ao3]

so. as you may know it’s christmas eve. as you probably don’t know i am eastern european. and probably the only real tradition anyone holds onto is christmas eve. normally my great aunt does all the food and very begrudgingly sometimes lets everyone help make like. one thing.

well.

this year. the year of our lord two thousand and twenty four. she decided she was done cooking and it was up to everyone else.

so i got a phone call from my mom a few weeks ago being like hey so. you’re making the cake. got it? good.

the cake in question is a walnut cake. i was entrusted with my great aunts recipe about seven years ago. i’ve made it twice. the first time i fucked up the frosting quantity. the second time i fucked up the eggs. both times were passable at best and notably! my great aunt did not taste either of them.

and i have to make this cake. on christmas eve. it is dessert. for everyone. my extended family will all be eating the cake. the walnut cake. on christmas eve. even my great aunt.

so yesterday, december 23 if you are counting, i went on the annual Last Minute Christmas Food Shopping Trip with my father, watched him climb into the case to get his half and half like he does every year, and stressed about my cake as i made sure i had all of the ingredients.

then. we went to my great aunts house. where i was met with Trial Number 1: The Cognac

this cake has cognac in the frosting. not a big deal really. except for the fact that my mom hates that there is cognac in the frosting. (my mom is hell bent on making christmas eve dinner vaguely healthier. no one else agrees.) and i was to be making the cake in my moms house.

also important to note: we (as in my parents) do not own cognac. mostly because none of us drink.

so my great aunt is like oh i have to give you the cognac. cause she knows. i am baking the cake. the walnut cake. (my dad told her. he is a traitor). and i say okay. sure. this won’t be a problem at all.

so she gives me. a shot of cognac. and when i say a shot. i mean an Entirely Full Shot Glass of Three Hundred Dollar Cognac. in a jar. for the cake. the walnut cake. that i have to make.

upon bringing the cognac home my mom says no we’re not putting that in. the cognac sits on the counter in its jar. no one touches it.

then i was met with Trial Number 2: The Frosting.

this recipe requires a pound of chopped walnuts. first. i couldn’t even find the walnuts. my sister and i searched high and low and in every cabinet we could find but no nuts. i called my mom. and said mom where are the walnuts? and she said. “they’re in the nut bag behind the basement door.”

oh of course. how could i have missed the nut bag? a holiday bag full of bags of nuts that was half hidden by wrapping paper and also behind a door?

in any case. could i have used a food processor? absolutely. did i? no. half because i forgot and half because i didn’t want to accidentally grind the walnuts into a paste. so i enlisted the help of my younger sister to chop the walnuts By Hand while i embarked on the real devil: the frosting.

which remember. is supposed to have cognac.

so i cream my butter. i add my sugar. i’m careful not to over sugar. i taste it a million times. i add my coffee and my vanilla extract (instead of cognac. which is still sitting on the counter) and it was all going so well until. the butter rebelled.

now remember. one time when i made this. seven years ago. i made too little frosting. so i made more this time. and i thought i had all my conversions right but evidently i did not because suddenly there was too much liquid in my frosting and it split.

the frosting for the walnut cake that everyone was going to eat. on christmas eve. the very next day.

i felt like a contestant on great british bake-off getting smited by the tent.

so i did the logical thing and shoved the whole mess into the fridge hoping that it would sort itself out overnight.

then it was time to face Trial Number Three: The Cake Itself.

as i have said this cake is a walnut cake. the christmas eve walnut cake that has been at christmas eve longer than i have been alive. and it requires no less than ten egg whites. which i whipped and i added to my walnuts and shoved the whole thing into the oven in my two baking dishes.

only to discover no less than 40 minutes later that the batter in the pans was Not Even (despite my best efforts). so i cooked one longer than the other and hoped that i hadn’t monumentally fucked up the walnut cake. like i had the frosting. which was in the fridge. and i was ignoring.

which leads to Trial Number Four: The Egg Yolk Cake

see i had ten egg yolks. i didn’t know what to do with them. my mom said flush them. my dad said make a custard. i proposed making egg nog. my mom said she didn’t want it in the house cause it was too fattening (a blatantly incorrect statement. please, if you are reading this, go drink a glass of eggnog. or some other fun festive drink. food is for the soul.) so i produced a recipe for an egg yolk pound cake. i made it. i still don’t know if it came out good cause i haven’t tasted it. i hope it did. but that was not the point. the point is the walnut cake. the christmas eve walnut cake.

and the following morning i was met with Trial Number Five: The Frosting Part 2

first i threw my failed frosting back in the mixer and it immediately secreted a brackish combination of vanilla extract and coffee so i did the only thing i could. facetimed my dad and said “father there are problems abound.” and he gave me the fatherly advice of “make it again.”

and so i did.

with more correct measurements. still scared it would split at any second.

though it didn’t.

and i didn’t add the cognac.

maybe no one will be able to tell???

my mom said that if anyone asks the first batch of frosting failed and i had to toss it. this is technically true.

but i had frosting. i had two uneven cakes. and it was time for Trial Number Six: Decorating

decorating cakes is easily in my top ten least favorite activities. decorating the christmas eve walnut cake is easily in my top three least favorite activities. because i am terrible at decorating cakes. and also because it has a filling.

the filling is jam. and i once again made the wrong choice because i put the jam on first before the frosting. which to be fair is what the directions say. but as everyone knows, the directions in recipes you get from your eastern european great aunt are not the real directions. so now i had to smear butter cream. on top of jam. for the filling of the walnut cake. for christmas eve. that we would be eating in a few hours.

and we didn’t have a cake plate. we had a large dish.

i had to use my fingers. i had to use three spatulas. i got jam everywhere. but i did it. and as soon as i set the top cake on top of the filling i realized my monumental mistake: i was supposed to trim down the cakes.

so now they were uneven. and lopsided. and there was nothing i, a mere mortal tasked with the impossible task of making christmas eve walnut cake, could do about it.

so i continued to spread my frosting. which i had enough of. and tried and failed to not get jam everywhere.

in the end it was almost presentable. not great. slightly lopsided. and definitely not as nice as any of my great aunts cakes.

which left me with Trial Number 7: Chilling It

our fridge was being taken up by other important christmas eve things (though not as important as my cake. the walnut cake) so i had to put it in the car. which was fine because there is snow on the ground.

i covered my cake. the walnut cake. in tin foil and hoped i wouldn’t accidentally squish it. and then i went outside. i tried to steal my moms shoes to walk outside. she was not impressed.

“you know, saph,” she said. “some of the time you’re pretty great. the other half of the time you’re really weird.”

i could not agree more.

i put my cake on the trunk. prayed to the cake gods and went inside.

on the one hand if the cake is good, i will be stuck making walnut cake for christmas eve for the rest of my life. on the other hand, if it sucks i will never have to make another one.

Trial Number Eight: The Tasting still waits.

[gojosprettyprincess]

₊˚ෆ HOW TOJI DEALS WITH OTHER MEN LIKING YOU <3

Tw- breeding, mentions of violence (not towards you), video recording. Not proofread

“Nuh uh don't hide this fucking pussy, show him how much you're creamin’ on my cock, don’t go all shy on me darling”. Toji laughed mockingly, his large hand effortlessly clasping both of your wandering wrists above your head to prevent any escape while using your phone to zoom in on the icky view of the mess between your mellowed thighs.

A streak of milky wetness glistened all over his massive cock, cascading down to his aching balls that were being captured in the filthy mess anyways because of how it's continuously slamming against your asshole that was coated with the cream that seeped out your gooey cunt.

"Fuck yeah, ya see that? See how this cute little pussy is wetting my dick? She sure as hell must be fucking loving it to be making this hell of a mess," he declared proudly. His deep, husky laugh resonated throughout the room, leaving no doubt that Toji was most likely losing his mind over the situation.

A few minutes earlier you told him about the guy from your class who confessed his feelings to you and you’re very uncertain about how to respond so you asked your boyfriend for some advice and well he decided to matters into his own hands.

“Tojii.. l-let go!” You cried out, attempting to dig your nails into his wrists as if that would make any difference, considering how fucking strong he is that it made your efforts almost laughably worthless.

“Nah don't think I want to darling, this fucker needs to know who the hell you belong to” he gritted his teeth at the thought of the guy even having the audacity to think you'd date him. You're all his and he would go to extreme lengths to ensure it remains that way.

The two of you were undeniably meant for each other and there was no fucking way in hell Toji would let some random fucker take you away from him.

“You wish this was you huh? Too fucking bad it's all mine to stuff and fuck, she belongs to me. Keep texting her and I’ll find you and bash your stupid fucking head in. Ya hear me?”. His brutal words cut through the air with a sharp edge, conveying possessiveness and veiled threats. It reverberated loudly, ensuring every detail was captured in the recording that the guy will be listening to soon after this.

His voice was deeper and harsher than normal, making your little cunt flutter even more around his stiffened shaft.

Which he obviously picked up on. “Ohhh you're such a slutty fucking whore baby, who am I kidding.” his grip on your bruised hands tightened. Threatening to leave more red, angry marks as he buckled his hips harshly into your ruined pussy. The force of his hips as he pushed into you aggressively showed literally no mercy.

“You’ll never fucking leave me, you're too fucking obsessed that your little cunt is twitching around me to the thought of me killing another man for you huh?”.

“N-no—” you stammered, turning your head away to look the other direction which made his grin widen even more as he playfully licked the faded scar on his lips because it had always been an indication of you lying whenever you looked away from him like that.

“Aww, that's fine doll," he murmured softly, his gaze unwavering as he directed the phone towards your fucked out face. His body sank deeper, inching downwards until his face hovered mere inches from your own. "you know what I'm thinking?”.

You peered your eyes at him and held contact in sheer curiosity.

“I’ll just breed this pretty fucking pussy and fuck a baby into you, how's that sound? Huh? You'll be such a good Mommy to our kid” his breath is now fanning against your face. Your body quivered at the thought, a deep longing stirring within you.

The thought of his suggestion made you moan, not just a normal moan. There's no particular way to describe it but the thought of that made your mind blurry and hazed. You and Toji always talked about having children in a few years but there's no harm in one now.

His possessiveness drove you crazy. Sure you knew Toji wasn’t a saint or an angel because at the end of the day, he murdered people for a living and because of that alone— he knew about the lonesome dangers of the world so he’s extremely overprotective and you’d loved every bit of it.

The thought of Toji even thinking you’d leave him for anyone else was an insult towards you because both of you were perfect for each other in every way possible.

“Y-yes! yes please, wanna carry your baby!” you babbled over and over, nodding your head like some stupid bitch as he proudly smirked at your reaction in amusement. “Yeah? Want me to make you a mommy? Get you pregnant so you'll be all full and swollen? Then everyone is gonna fucking know who you belong to”. The glint in Toji’s eyes was so dark, that it almost had you scared for a moment.

“Yesyesyes, please, m’so desperate Toji, fill me up–” you whimpered, tears glistening in your eyes as you pleaded fervently.

“Yeah fuck that, y’know what—” he mumbled to himself with a brief pause to stop the recording on his phone and swiftly hitting the "send" button to the guy that’s currently and patientlyyy waiting for your response in the chat. He casually tossed the device to the side and embraced you tightly, his strong arms enveloping you and wrapped around your neck to hug you before vigorously slamming his hips into you in an intense pace.

Unfortunately, the poor guy never had the chance to witness the adorable blessing you and Toji shared several months later because your boyfriend assassinated him on his way home the very next afternoon because he tried to speak to you again in person.

[myheartxmyman]

[tonycries]

Freak On The Cam! - C.K.

Synopsis. Choso always loved watching you - his pretty lil’ camgírl - from behind the screen. Who knew he’d love being on-screen with you even more?

Pairing. Choso Kamo x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, camgírl! reader, spítting, Choso has rings and piercings, first times + loss of vírginity (Choso’s), oral (fem receiving), exhíbitionism, DOWN BAD Choso, cúmplay, use of “ma’am”, Sukuna is a menace, víbrators, light jealousy (Choso’s), some HEINOUS things, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 6.5k

A/N. Meant to post this last week but hehe here we are. Also I’ve GOT to stop using Unc-kuna so much lmao.

“Wanna see a movie or do you wanna make one?”

Choso was screwed. Completely and utterly screwed. So badly, in fact, that he might as well just wipe off every trace of himself online and go into hiding - preferably forever.

All because he had been so stupidly careless as to leave his phone unattended for exactly 1 minute and 47 seconds around Sukuna. 

In the time it took Choso to raid the kitchen for his favorite brand of cereal, his uncle had managed to open his Twitter (because “that’s where all the juicy stuff is”), stalk your pretty page at the very top of his last searched, and send a god-awful pick-up line that would probably get him blocked. Or worse.

Damnit, he knew he shouldn’t have made his password Yuji’s birthday.

“Ya should be thankful I didn’t DM her myself, brat.” Sukuna chuckles, not even a shred of regret in his tone, way too amused with how Choso was frantically trying to tackle the phone out of his hands. “What’s the harm in asking? Such a pretty camgirl, n’ you look like you need some good pu-”

“She’s also my classmate.”

“Kinky. Even better.” 

No, not “even better”. God, this must be some kind of cosmic joke, and Choso just wished the Earth would swallow him up whole right now - and maybe his phone along with it too. 

It had taken him almost a whole semester to work up the courage to just sit next to you during your shared lecture. All gorgeous with your bright smiles, and your smart mouth. And Choso was very much content to admire you from afar - and from behind his phone screen, of course.

Never following, never liking. Never tipping you off as one of your hundreds of thousands of fans.

And now, not only had Sukuna revealed that he’d found your secret Twitter account - the one with those sinful little clips of yourself that had Choso opening the app way too much - he’d also propositioned you. Like some creep.  

“Ugh. This is why women hate you.” Still desperately grappling, he spits out more to himself than Sukuna at this point. “B-besides, she’s never even gonna respond any-”

Ping!

And the Itadori household had never been quieter. Never, on a random Saturday during spring break. Never, as the two men crowd the phone, jaws dropped and staring wordlessly at the singular message on screen. You. 

“Let’s make one ;)”

---

“So s’not a stream this time, jus’ a video. Is that okay?”  You hum from your desk, glancing at the man seated on your bed as he hastily nods along with whatever you said. Looking like he’d rather be anywhere but here. 

Weird. 

It had only been a few days of back and forth since you’d gotten that first text - the one that you’d honestly thought about blocking like the thousands of others. But there was just something about it that made you stop, something that had you clicking on the profile to delve a little deeper.

It hit you like a semi-truck back then - five of them, in fact - that this was someone in your class. Someone you knew. How the hell did he even find this account? 

You knew Choso as that sweet - albeit slightly gloomy - kid that sat next to you, always quick with his answers and even quicker to look away from your gaze, no matter how hard you tried to spark a conversation. You’d just guessed he was afraid of you or something.

So nothing could’ve prepared you for how ridiculously attractive he looked in that profile picture, all smug grins and dark locks falling effortlessly around his slightly smudged eyeliner. Shirtless, giving just a peak of- oh god, were those nipple piercings?  

Could you really be blamed? You just had to have him.

But, here - it was like he was just itching to run away at the first chance he got. 

“You’re not held at gunpoint, y’know.” you giggle at how he startles at the mere sound of your voice. The mattress dips as you stop fiddling with the camera to sit next to him, thighs flush against his muscled ones. “Are you sure you want-”

“Yes.” 

It seems that both of you were surprised by the abrupt response. Too quick. Choso clears his throat, cheeks flaring as he tries to dredge up some semblance of dignity, he drawls lightly. “I mean- Yes.”

You study him for a moment under the dim lighting, noting the way his hands clench and unclench in his lap, the way his chest rises and falls rapidly as he struggles to control his breathing. He was nervous. Nervous and horny - nothing quite like the suave impression his pick-up line gave off. 

But so irresistible just the same.

“Well…Cho.” you bat your lashes, voice dropping to a seductive whisper - not too heavy, for now at least. “Then why won’t you even look at me?”

Alas, Choso was not a strong man. 

Maybe at your words, maybe at that playful little nickname you gave him, he’s finally raising those dark eyes to look at you. Twinkling with- fear? anticipation? A flicker of something so dangerous as his gaze sweeps greedily over that tight dress you put on just for this occasion. 

Choso tries to ignore how sinfully it hugs all your curves. Or the way it would look a million times better on the floor. 

This was absolute torture. 

And God he thinks he could pass out right then and there as you lean in closer. Too close. The temperature in the room suddenly increasing by about 10 degrees as you purr, tone careful and balanced. “Much better. And now…” 

His breathing becomes heavier, eyes flickering downwards. Once. Twice. 

And you know you’ve got him in the palm of your hand. 

“...all you gotta do is touch me.”

Yeah, if Choso thought he was going to pass out before then he definitely wasn’t ready for those dangerous little words. Ones that have him shaken right to the core - fighting that urge to just take you how he’s imagined all those lonely nights.

“You- huh?” he lets out a shaky laugh, the sound strained as he crosses his legs with the subtlety of a sledgehammer, desperately trying to will away the blood rushing straight to his throbbing cock right now. 

But how could he? Not when you only shift closer, barely even a hair’s breadth between you two - relishing in his strangled gasp as your tits press so enticingly against his arm. Such an adorable pout playing on your lips as you mutter, “Do you not want to?”

And he did. Oh, how he did - has been imagining it for the past five months, in fact. And Choso lets you know, a little twenty times, actually, as the words spill panickedly from his lips. 

“-idiot trying to set me up and I’ve been dreaming of fucking you for so long but I’m just-” Heat rushes to Choso’s cheeks, as he abruptly shuts the fuck up. But it’s too late - the damage has been done.

You give him a wry smile, lips mere inches from his ear. “Just what?”

His breath hitches, muscles rippling so deliciously as he shudders beneath your touch. “I’m a-” Choking out - as if it physically hurts to  admit - “-virgin.”

Oh. 

Now, you might’ve expected many things - but certainly not this. Though, looking at the cute flush on the tips of his ears, all the way down to those big, needy eyes, you don’t mind. Not one bit.

With one, quick glance at the rolling camera - your mouth is moving before your mind. “Do you want me to…do something about it?”

And then it’s like something snapped. 

You don’t know who leans in first, just that Choso’s kissing you. And you’re kissing him - how could you not? 

Because goddammit it was always those pretty lips that you were staring at whenever he was spouting off answers in class. You just never expected he’d be kissing you back with such an infectious desperation. 

No sooner are you thinking about how sweet his lips are before he’s pulling away with a soft sigh, pressing hot open-mouthed kisses down your jaw. Your neck. Back to your lips like he wanted everything and anything.

You gasp licks a long, languid stripe up your neck - maybe at how utterly obscene it felt, maybe at that sharp cold feeling that makes you flinch. Fuck - a tongue piercing? The noise makes Choso’s mouth drop into a quick oh! surging forward to claim your lips again. Addicted. 

Only to be stopped by your hands cupping his face, letting out a pained grunt at how he was so close. Just a hair’s breadth away from your lips.

“Cho~ Open your mouth, baby.” you whisper, hotly. 

And he looked so pretty - dark hair askew, lower lip swollen and quivering with need, brows furrowing because he wanted more of your taste. But he obeys, of course he does, Choso thinks he’ll do anything you asked. And lo and behold, sitting right there in the middle of his tongue was a pretty silver piercing.

You just can’t help but thumb open his mouth further, looking him right in the eyes as you spit in his mouth. Once. Twice. 

“Bet no one else has done this before, huh?” Grinning at how sinfully Choso’s eyes roll to the back of his head at your taste, “Kiss me proper now.”

God, you were so good at throwing away whatever was left of his poor sanity. And it’s all that’s said before his kiss-bitten lips are crashing into yours again. 

“No. No one’s hah- done that before. Only you.” he’s panting into your open mouth, swirling his tongue with yours. “F-fuck only you. Only you only you-”

You barely even realize the way you’re on his lap now, sitting so prettily there that Choso half-deliriously wonders whether he should take a picture. Mind spinning too much with his throbbing erection under your drenched panties, a damp little patch at his fat tip. So hot and heavy already.

“Cho, do you want me to-”

“Yes, ma’am.”

You certainly don’t have to be told twice - especially with that little nickname. Fiddling with his belt, you’re so hazy with want - the need to taste Choso, to see if the rest of him was as sweet as his lips - that you almost miss the look of confusion that flashes across his face.

You bat your lashes at him almost-innocently, “You alright?” And Choso thinks he could cum right there and right now at the sight. If he wasn’t currently battling for his life, that is. 

“Yeah, s’jus’- what I wanted hah- was to…” His hands sneak down, cupping your heated pussy through your drenched panties. “-taste her. ”

“Oh?”

“Are y’gonna teach me how?”

Oh. Fuck.

You know you’re fucked. Completely and utterly fucked.

Only moments later, Choso’s wrestling you back onto the mattress, face-to-face with your sloppy pussy. So mean with the way he was pinning your hips down with one hand, all but ripping your panties off with the other. 

You feel his piercing before his tongue. Both the hot and cold so maddening on your cunt as Choso licks long, lazy stripes up your puffy folds - dragging his hot tongue all the way from your base. Just grazing your swollen clit. 

“Teach me- fuck fuck-” words muffled and slurring together, vibrations going straight to your pussy. “Use me. Use me how you want.”

You’re threading your fingers through his dark locks before you even realize it, grinding your sloppy cunt all over his waiting mouth. “Quirk your tongue like- ngh-” Angling him close enough so he bullies his soft tongue into your tight pussy. Piercing massaging all the right places. “Fuck-”

“Like this?”

“Sh-shit,” you gasp, nodding deliriously. “S’too ngh- good.”

And by God, did you mean it. 

“Yeah? Y’like this?” he’s groaning, wrapping his lips around your swollen clit. “Can feel you clenching around me. Shit shit shit, you love this, huh? So slutty on camera for it?” 

Getting wetter and wetter by the second as his tongue roams for that one-

“Oh! F-fuck, Cho. Right hngh- there. Deeper-”

Ah, found it.

Choso grins as you tug on his soft strands, you can feel it on your throbbing pussy. Pushing your legs all the way till they’re at your tits to hit that little spot each and every time. Again and again. Eyes glassy, torn between devouring that slutty expression on your face and how fucking drenched you were. 

“Shit, baby,” his words are so strained now, like his sanity was dancing away at each flick of his tongue. “You’re drooling everywhere. See? Show the camera now.”

You don’t have to look. Because you can feel it.

Can feel how wet his mouth is, just glistening with slick and saliva. Trailing all the way down his chin - to his wrist - only second to how sloppy your dripping cunt was. It was like he was getting messy on purpose, like a little reminder to himself that shit this was you and he was eating out your pretty cunt to insanity-

“Oh my god, think m’hooked.” Tongue dragging all over your swollen folds, catching on his piercing. “Think your pretty lil’ pussy’s hah- driving me crazy. Ruined me, Fuck-”

And it’s so embarrassing how he’s talking you through it, grinning at every lil’ whine and whimper that leaves your mouth. You were acting all shy right now in a way that makes Choso’s cock twitch so painfully. He barely even notices, though, with the way he was so drunk off your pussy. 

So messy - unable to decide between rolling his tongue over your ravaged clit and dipping into your sloppy hole. Too much. In and out in and-

“Faster.”

He goes faster. 

“H-harder.”

He goes harder.

Anything and everything for you - to keep those pretty moans falling from your lips, walls getting tighter and tighter around his tongue. And Choso might just consider himself a man addicted.

“Can you ngh- cum f’me, baby?” You flinch as he spits out the words into your cunt. Harsh. Fucked-out. Sounding just as delirious and breathless as you. “Cum f’me please. Wan’ to taste y’on my tongue. Please. Fuck- need it so bad. So bad.”

You’re so caught up in Choso’s pussydrunk little babbles that you barely even realize when you’re cumming. Just that you’re letting out a strangled scream of his name, dragging your sloppy pussy all over his mouth. 

And he has never seemed more blissed out. Long gone is that nervous little expression usually on his face around you, Choso looked like he could be suffocated in-between your legs right now and love it. Hope for it, even.

He tells you that, of course. As soon as you’re blinking back your vision, blood still roaring in your ears. Delicate strings of slick snapping where he parts from your quivering cunt, lips swollen and glossed so prettily with your sweet sweet juices. 

“Baby, y’think the video of lesson one came out good?”

Oh. Shit, what have you done?

---

That certainly wasn’t the last time you saw Choso - or the last time you had him in front of a camera, either.

A few weeks later, you found yourself with an entire album for the man - a hidden treasure trove under the simple name of “Cho <3”. Most of the videos favorited, all sorted so tediously in a way that showed you spent an obscene amount of time looking at all the ways he ruined you. 

So filthy on camera that you always wondered whether it was the same person in the sheets and in class, texting Choso for later. Just to confirm. 

But embarrassingly, only some of these videos made their way onto your Twitter account - with Choso’s pretty face largely out of the frame. The two of you hadn’t ventured into streams yet either, opting to hide him away. Because, okay, maybe you were slightly jealous of other people seeing him - but it was really hard not to be when he looked like that.

In spite of all that, you’d still gained a casual hundred thousand more followers since his appearance - ones who always commented on your solo streams asking where your “hot emo bf” was.

Comments you’d pointedly ignore, because, hell, you wished he was here on-stream helping you get off, too. Yet despite the endless flirting and videos, Choso actually hadn’t made it further than actually holding a full conversation with you. And you wanted more. 

For all you know, you might just be one of his many trysts - and it was just for the videos, right? You get the content, he gets the experience? A win-win situation, so why have you never felt more like such a loser?

Such a loser the way you’ve already lost count of the “lessons” but still haven’t gotten to feel him - to fuck him the way you wanted just yet. 

“S’alright if I take this, right, ma’am?” He smirks during one such session, knuckle-deep in your dripping cunt. Dangling your drenched panties like a badge of honor, flimsy and soaked with your sweet sweet juices. “S’alright if I-” And he can’t even finish the sentence. Your jaw drops as Choso raises the thin fabric to his face, breathing in your essence like a man possessed. 

Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzzt-

“You’re so filthy, Cho-” you manage to choke out once you find your voice. Squirming on his bed like such a slut for him. “Was the innocent thing just an act?”

“Nope.” he pops the p, licking lewd little circles on your neck, thumbing open your puffy folds to watch in amazement at the way you glisten and clamp around his fingers. Eyes flickering briefly to the recording phone in his hand. “But we gotta give ‘em a good show, huh?”

Right, you’d forgotten about the camera. But none of that matters anyway because-

Intensity setting 2.

“You’re so mean, too.”

“Am I?” he grins, teeth grazing along your racing pulse. “I think you taught that to me, baby. Shit, lesson 8 it was?”

God, he was addictive.

Choso’s having way too much fun playing around with the intensity setting of the bullet vibrator shoved inside your ravaged cunt. Sending quick, methodical vibrations all along your pulsing clit. In time with the breathless moans leaving your kiss-bitten lips, and it’s all you can to call out for- more? Mercy? Both? 

Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzzt-

“God, you’re so perfect. Shit, so messy f’me.” he groans, and you could tell that the video wasn’t going to be uploaded anyway. Too shaky, focusing in and out of Choso’s fingers. Knuckle-deep and pumping in and out of your filthy hole. Relentless. “Almost makes me wanna show off to an actual audience.”

“Maybe I want to, too.” you muse, shifting at his heated gaze. Dangerously pressing your thumb over those nipple piercings you’ve gotten to know so well lately - as if to support your point. God you wish he’d take off that snug shirt.

Intensity setting 3.

“That so?”

And no matter how many times Choso’s ruined you on camera - and watched the videos over and over afterwards - he always thought they weren’t enough to capture your perfection. 

“Such a slut f’me, baby.” To capture the exact moment in which your wet lips fall into a soft little oh! when he massages your walls in time with the pulsing vibrator. To capture that absolutely sinfully excited little glint in your eyes as he ruts his clothed erection against your pussy. “Y’always this dirty?” Quickly turning into a look of slight panic at the sudden jingle of keys from the front door. 

“Yo, brat. Where the fuck are ya?”

Ah, there he was, the reason that Choso usually locked his bedroom door whenever you were over, even if he was home alone. 

Intensity setting 4.

As the silence continues, so does Choso’s abuse on your cunt. In fact, he only gets more erratic - like he wanted you to cum. Needed you to cum right now, right here in front of Sukuna, footsteps only growing louder. Nearer.

“Cho-” you fight to get out the words. “He’s hah-.”

Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzzt-

“Can’t speak? That’s cute.” he coos, voice way too relaxed for someone whose mind was reeling with the realization that he couldn’t remember if he locked the door this time, and how adorable you sounded. Enough so that it made some raw, primal part of him wanna pull down his pants and fuck you right here right now. Cockblocks and his own virginity be damned. “C’mon now, use your words like a good girl. Tell the camera.”

Cocky bastard.

Bzzzt-bzzzt-bzzzzt-

“Close!” you yelp, unsure of whether you were talking about yourself or the looming Sukuna. Jaw slack, tears springing into your ears as you look up at Choso. “So close.”

God, you were addictive. And this video was definitely going in both your favorites.

“Mhm,” he hums, movements getting hastier. More desperate. “I know, ma’am.”

Intensity setting 5.

That’s all that it takes for you to cum, letting out a loud strangled moan of Choso’s name. Or, you would’ve - if it hadn’t been for the way he’s shoving two, thick fingers into your mouth.

Silencing you - and in your hazy brain you think that if this was his way of shutting you up, then you really didn’t mind. Because all you could taste was you and the cold, cold metal of his rings. Somewhat intoxicating.

“Shhhhhh.” he’s breathing out, still mindlessly grinding his hips into yours. Though, you realize with a pang that today won’t be the day you get to feel that achingly hard erection straining his pants. “These pretty moans aren’t for him, hm?”

Pressing on the back of your tongue, smirking at the way you nod tearily up at him, moans still muffled. Hell, do you even know how sexy you’re being right now.

“Mhm, all f’me. All for fuckin’ me.”

Knock! Knock! Knock! 

“Why the fuck are you locked up in here on a Saturday night?” Sukuna sounds impatient, but not surprised. Probably imagining all sorts of dorky things his nephew was doing to hole himself up in his room. “Come out n’ get this takeout- what’s left of it anyways.”

And with that, it’s like the magic is over.

Your high only just bating before Choso’s hurriedly ending the recording on a hazy still of your disappointed pout, cursing Sukuna for his impeccable timing. 

Slightly concerned about the door being broken down and someone else seeing you in all your fucked-out glory, he hastily moves to grab the spare cloth by his bedside. Cleaning you up with hushed promises of “sending the recording later”, and “s’alright, he’ll be gone soon.”

Close. You were so close.

A win-win situation - but you’ve never felt like more of a loser.

---

“By God, I never thought he’d get the balls to do it.”

You yelp in surprise at the deep voice from behind you, whirling with a defiant brandish of Choso’s (your?) keys. He’d given them to you a few lessons ago, saying it would make it easier for you to come and go from his apartment as you pleased. Which - to you - felt dangerously like something a boyfriend would say-

But that wasn’t important right now.

What was important was the older man suddenly towering over you right outside Choso’s front door. Big arms crossed over his chest, that leering smirk clashing with his pink hair. “I knew it was odd that brat had a pair of heels by the door.”

Shit. Sukuna.

Ryomen awfully-wingman-his-nephew Sukuna.

“Spill.” At your confused head tilt, he plows on. “Spill the tea. I need new blackmail on my lil’ nephew. How badly did he have to beg you to go out with him?”

You don’t know what was more bizarre - what he was saying or the way he actually pulls out his Notes app as if hanging on to your every word. 

“I-It’s because of you.” you manage to choke out, unsure of what Choso has told his family about you.  Eyes flitting between him and the door right behind you, sounding your very best not to sound just as guilty as you felt. “You’re the reason we have this weird…thing.”

A beat of silence passes. One. Two. 

And just as you’re beginning to wonder whether you’ve broken Choso’s infamous uncle, he throws his head back and laughs. Laughs, right in your face, sounding like he’d just heard the funniest punchline in the world. 

“Oh that’s hilarious.” he exclaims, wiping a mock tear. Cackles dying down as if he was suddenly aware that maybe Choso would hear and walk in on this impromptu interrogation. “Damn, that awful pick-up line is why you started fuckin’? I thought it’d get that sap blocked so he’d stop stalking your account so much.”

“No, we…” you hesitate, mind reeling with what Sukuna just admitted, and how bad it would really be that you’re divulging your sex life to a relative of the guy you’re fucking. Before thinking fuck it, might as well confide in someone. “...we’re just doing stuff for-” putting up air quotes. “-content.”

“Just content?”

“Just content.”

“And you like that fool?”

Your face burns at how glaringly obvious it apparently was, “...Yes.”

This seemingly sets Sukuna off on another wave of uncontrollable laughter. “Ohh, thanks for the blackmail on that emotionally-constipated brat.” Typing away on what you assume to be his Notes, he promptly turns to walk away, “See ya around, doll.”

“Wait!” you call after in confusion, making him stop and raise a brow. “Aren’t you supposed to like- I don’t know, give me advice for your nephew or something - like a good uncle?”

Scoffing, “Who said I was a good uncle?” He leans in ever-so-slightly, “Jus’ rock his world on camera or somethin’ n’ ask him out right in the middle.” Satisfied with being enough of a decent samaritan for today, he walks back with a half-wave, “He’d listen to whatever you say anyway.”

Oh. Is that so?

And Sukuna probably meant it as some joke. Something to tease the both of you with - but it’s something that sets the gears going off inside your head. Something that had you ignoring Sukuna’s slightly panicked, “Jus’ not too soon, I needa bully him with this first.”

---

You didn’t listen to Sukuna’s little plea, of course. Because only a few days later you’d steeled yourself to finally send that one text you knew would change your relationship with Choso. For the good, hopefully. 

You: 9pm my place. Get ready, cuz this time we’re gonna be live ;)

Cho <3: :0 

And with that, you’d thrown your phone on the bed, jittery about later tonight. Browsing through your wardrobe for that one set of barely-there lingerie in his favorite shade of pink. Hey, you could never be too prepared, right?

Nothing could’ve prepared Choso for this moment - absolutely nothing at all. 

He might’ve just died and gone to heaven the very moment he read that dangerous text - finally inviting him to join one of your streams. The ones that he’d always watch in the safety of his bedroom, lights dimmed, pants bunched around his ankles. 

Cock just achingly hard in his fist while he wished he was with you behind the camera. Getting you off so much better than any sextoy would. Just forcing those pretty moans from your lips - and everyone else could see that. Wish it was them ruining you instead. 

Alas, it was only a dirty little fantasy. 

Until now, that is.

slvt4u: Holy shit boyfriend reveal, about time.

uniwhore: THIS is the hottie from Twitter????? 

itsgenslut: idfc just fuck

“Nervous?” you smirk, looking down at the man sprawled so prettily on your bed. “You look just as close to an aneurysm as you were the first time. Though-” snaking your hand down, “-this is still the same as ever.”

You chuckle at the way Choso catches your lips with his, more to shut up those pathetic little moans threatening to escape him than anything. Because every glance at you in that sinful little pink bra gave Choso a mini heart attack. 

“B-baby-” he gasps, grinding his clothed erection against your palms. “I wan- hah-”

“Mhm?”

And God how you’ve ruined Choso - run him so utterly dry of his sanity.

Because he’s angling your head down, piercing cold against your tongue. “Spit.”

It was like that first time had gotten him addicted. So you do - right into his waiting mouth. Jaw dropping at the way he tips his head back, back, back to let it slide so obscenely down his throat. Moaning at just a taste of you, “God, I need to f-fucking ruin you.”

And if there’s anything you’ve learned after all these months with Choso, it’s that anything he says - he does.

The words have barely left his mouth before he’s pulling your bra off, ripping your panties easily off your hips. Each and every little regret about what a shame it was thrown out the window at the first sight of your pretty pussy. 

It never gets old - and Choso could never get enough of the sinful sight - your cunt so sloppy and ready for him already. 

“Cho-” you whine as ringed fingertips coming up to circle your sloppy entrance. Cold. Stretching you to insanity. “S-stop teasing.”

“Yes, ma’am. But first-” shifting you around ever-so-slightly on top of him. “Gotta show off how wet y’are f’me.”

uniwhore: did he just call her “ma’am”?? Me when??

roses101: idk who i wanna be they’re both so fucking hot ugh

“Fuck, y’look so sexy from this angle. Wonder if the camera thinks so too?”

Your face slightly burns at how he was seemingly taking over your own stream. Smug bastard, you think, glancing down at Choso, red-faced, hair untied, wearing a sly grin as his eyes slide over the flurry of comments. But two can play that game. 

“Cho~” fumbling with the hem of his underwear, “You’ve been holding out on me.”

A gasp leaves you involuntarily as you tug down Choso’s boxers just enough for his throbbing cock to spring free, hitting his sculpted abdomen. Blushed your favorite shade of pink - to match your bra - so so angry and soaked in precum. 

He was so intimidatingly long - longer than any of those toys you usually brought on camera. Thick enough that it had you wondering, shit, would you even be able to take it?

“S’this a-alright?” and for all his previous confidence, Choso sounded self-conscious. Peeking at you through his long lashes.

You grin, pumping a hand up and down his swollen cock, letting his precum drip down your wrist. “S’perfect.”

“God- fuck, baby. Oh-” Choso lets out breathless little profanities as you straddle his waist, dragging his weeping tip down your swollen folds. So fucking filthy as you sink down in by fucking in. Slowly. “Too- much-”

Apparently too slow because no sooner have you just taken in his fat tip, squeezing and clenching around him, that Choso’s flipping the both of you over. 

“M’sorry.” he breathes into your mouth as your back hits the mattress. “M’sorry m’sorry, fuck- just can’t-” fingers immediately drawing frenzied little circles on your pulsing clit to take your mind off the dizzying stretch as he bullies his massive cock into your snug cunt. “Can’t wait can’t wait- waited too fucking long. Want this so badly-”

You felt too good. Too perfect around him. 

“Ah! Hngh- Cho, oh my god. Too- ngh-” you moan, as he starts grinding in shallow, mindless little movements just to fit himself inside. Pushing and pushing, you wondered if he even realized what he was doing.

Sounding like his sanity was dwindling away with each little thrust, “S’too big? You can take it. Fuck fuck fuck please. Need this.” Pressing all the way into your lungs. “How do you wan’ it- how do you wan’ me?”

Honestly, Choso didn’t even need to ask, because he just bottoms out - heavy balls smacking against your ass, cock swollen and throbbing inside you - that you think that you just wanted him to ruin you. 

“R-ruin?” his voice breaks as he repeats - more to himself than you. Oh, shit had you said that out loud? You’re speechless as Choso throws your legs over his shoulder, dragging his swollen lips lazily across your ankle. “Yes ma’am.”

Oh. You might as well have just signed off your will. 

Because then he’s fucking into your sloppy cunt. Unforgiving. A man starved because he was. Jagged, quick thrusts, splitting you apart deeper and deeper on his rock-hard cock. 

“Fuck- fuck fuck fuck-” he pants into your open mouth, finding it so fucking difficult to find any rhythm when your tight cunt was milking him so good. “You feel so good. So messy. Ya love it like this, huh? Being hngh- watched?”

“Hngh-” you buck wildly into his body, reaching up to play coyly with his nipple piercings. Tugging and pulling lightly. “Feels too good- are- ah- are ya sure this is your first time?”

Honestly, it was a wonder Choso didn’t cum right then and there. 

Tojisslvt: need someone to fuck me like this the first time

22sabi: Typing with one hand is so hard.

DaStrongest: i could fuck her so much better than than inexperienced loser

Choso throws his head back in a cruel little laugh at that last comment, something that makes you tingle all the way from your burning cheeks to your stuffed cunt. Clamping down deliciously on Choso’s unforgiving cock in a way that makes his hips and fingers stutter. 

“Ya think you could fuck her better?” it takes you a second to realize he was talking to the camera and not you. Thrusts getting sloppier, getting familiar. “I’m the one that got her so messy like this.” Purposeful. Calculated. Like he was aiming for that one-

“Fuck!” you scream as he hits that magic spot. Once. And then over and over like a man possessed. Just so utterly ruining you the way you knew he could. “Cho oh my god- I can’t hah- ngh-”

The cold metal of Choso’s rings dig into your cheek softly as he turns you head to face him. God, this was the stuff of his wildest dreams.

You - teary eyed and looking up at him like such a slut. Pussy getting wetter - tighter - as he teases you in front of the camera. Torn between running away from his relentless cock and bucking up for more more more-

 “Fuck no no no- Keep your legs open, baby. Don’t hah- run away from me.” his fingers dig into your hips, pulling you impossibly closer. “Don’t- need this. Need this so ba- shit.” 

And he sounded so genuinely worried he’d lose the feeling of your heady cunt. Fingers bruising on your hips as he pulls you closer. Like he was trying to fuck out any and every shred of shyness out of your body. 

slvt4u: Always the quiet ones.

DaStrongest: heh, fuck off. i’d make her cum so much harder.

Now, Choso was fucking you like he had a point to prove, and it was probably the only reason he hadn’t passed out from how good your pussy felt wrapped around him. 

Both of you were barely-lucid at this point - and he was out of control now.

Pussy drunk thoughts unfiltered, “No one’s ever d-done this- got me hah- feeling like this.” And you had the distinct feeling he just beat you to your original goal, letting out sweet little babbles into your open mouth - though his hips were anything but. 

So hard that you were sure the creases of your sheets would leave marks for tomorrow - along with his balls on your ass, your ankles on his shoulders, lips searing against yours. It was like he wanted to prove something - to prove he was good enough to- the viewers? To you? 

Knowing your body well enough to hit that one spot over and over until you were sobbing. Fingers erratic on your clit. 

“Cho-” you squeal, tears springing to your eyes as he only gets sloppier. “I-I’m gonna-”

“Cum?” he breathes, as if he couldn’t believe it. And fuck if you weren’t the gates of heaven spread wide open for him then he didn’t know what was. “Fucking cum. Please please- hah- f’me. Cum on m’cock n’ make them jealous. F’me- Like you’re mine.”

You barely even realize when you are. Jaw slack, eyes rolling to the back of your head as you see stars behind your eyes, blood roaring in your ears. God, he was gonna have to go home and rewatch this stream all over again. 

“Ngh- m’cumming m’cumming oh-”

Not even realizing the way you’re dragging your nails down Choso’s sculpted back. Marking up his milky skin - and he lets you. 

Loved it in fact- the way he loved you. 

Your eyes go wide, and Choso knows he’s fucked up. Realizing with a jolt that words were tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop them. But it’s the way you squeeze him tighter- giving him such a gorgeous little fucked-out smile that sends him over the edge.

Sharp canines digging into the crook of your neck like he wanted to break skin, holding himself back from breaking you while he cums and cums so hard it hurt. Over and over-

“Love you- love you love you love you-” he’s muttering into the skin, unbarred. “Since I first saw hah- you. Wanted this more than fuck fuck- air that I breathe.”

His seed was oozing out of you now, painting your ravaged pussy white, dribbling down your legs.  So fucking full and debauched. Thick, hot globs that were sure to stain those overpriced new sheets. But did Choso care for the mess? Not at all. 

Because you were holding him so impossibly tight, pushing away the strands of hair sticking to his forehead. Whispering little praises as he fucks you through his first time. Close. Warm. Everything he ever dreamed of.

“S’everything I ever dreamed of, too, Cho.”

And he knows he’s won. 

urfavslvt: Proudest nut. Want more.

uniwhore: does this mean couples content??? Pls say yes plsplspls

DaStrongest: invite me next time <3

“Thought you were embarrassed.” he licks soothingly over the bite. Voice shot, piercing smooth against his tongue. Embarrassing little confessions leaving him with each spark of electricity running through his veins. “Thought you didn’t stream w’me cuz of that- but shit. Dreamed of this f’so long. So long-”

Oh?

“Hey, Cho.” your voice rings through his hazy mind. Just enough for Choso to raise his head and meet your intoxicating, sultry gaze. Giving a sly, sidelong glance at the still-blinking camera. 

“Mhm?”

“Wanna film a week’s worth of ‘movies’ in advance?”

---

Sukuna (do not answer): Oi shitty nephew, where r u Jin made me come over with (half) leftovers.

You: Sorry, not home. At the movies rn.

Sukuna (do not answer): When tf do u go to movies?? 

You: Since now, on a date. You probably can’t relate.

Sukuna (do not answer): Stfu n’ stop lying, a date with who? Ur body pillow?? Not like u had the balls to ask out that pretty lil’ camgirl anyway.

Haha

Right? 

You: *girlfriend

Sukuna (do not answer): Huh?

You: Girlfriend.

Sukuna (do not answer): THE FUCKIN’ PICK-UP LINE WORKED??

A/N. This came out a LOT longer than expected. 

Plagiarism not authorized.

[lokissweater]

a million more novembers

{mlb!megumi fushiguro x f!reader}

summary: its you and megumi’s cute little two year anniversary! a car picnic at a stargazing hotspot in the city— snacks, drinks, your loving baseball man, and gifts galore? yes please!

warnings: MDNI. afab!reader, cursing, FLUUUUFFF GALOOREEEE AWWWUUHHH!!, sexual themes, mostly sfw except for like one steamy part ;), boobie sucking, grinding, soft loving megumi OFCCC, sliight angst but really nothing, all characters are aged up, mentions of reader having ‘pink cheeks’ is only to amplify and over-exaggerate feelings of embarrassment, shyness, and everything in between, and not to be taken literally! this is a work of fiction, and you can imagine many things for yourself :)

word count: 8.8k

authors note: ANNIVERSARY SPEECCCIIAAALLL I AM CRRRYYIINNNGGG!!! i hope you guys enjoy this little side fun mini chapter of sir gumi and reader’s anniversary day, and their endeavors with yuji and readers best friend :333 wanted to give you guys an extra mlb!megumi chapter in celebration of their LUUUUVVV !!! MWAAAHHHHH I LOOOVEE YOUUUU !!! TAKE CAAAREEEE !!! <3333333

i highly advise you to read the other parts of this series or else you won’t be able to understand some of the storyline and references :( you can find my mlb!megumi fushiguro masterlist here!

if you could, you’d fake pass out at this very moment so that way you’d be excused by your professor and get the fuck out of your afternoon lecture right this instant.

but you couldn’t, because attendance was mandatory and you’d lose points upon missing out… and you had an exam next week— which is something you normally just grumbled about and dealt with seeing as it was just a part of being in college, except right now? it was criminal to even think about an upcoming exam like this.

because it was you and megumi’s two year anniversary.

and the only thing you wanted to do was be there with him for the entire day… but because of your classes and megumi having abnormal back to back practices again due to the upcoming world series, you both agreed that you’d drive over to the stadium after your afternoon class and leave together for your little date after he was done.

but even though megumi had practice, you wanted to be at the stadium so fucking badly— watching him pitch and swing and just do what he does best one of your absolute favorite hobbies, the way he plays never getting old and actually illegal to even think that something like that could be a possibility.

you shrunk down in your seat, arms crossed as your professor went over topics about something and guidelines about whatever, you usually paying more attention to the material if it was any regular day but wanting to strangle yourself because the education system was preventing you from being with your man.

your phone lit up suddenly with a notification, you smiling softly to yourself upon realizing who it was and sitting up, grabbing your phone to unlock it.

(gumi <3): how’s class baby

you quickly typed back a response.

(you): do you think if i pretend to pass out right now my professor will excuse me and i can just leave

(gumi <3): lol

(gumi <3): you only have thirty minutes left though right?

(you): okay but gumi what does that have to do with me wanting to pretend to pass out so i can go see you faster

(you): and make fan edits of you while i wait 

(you): I— I MEAN—

(gumi <3): omg

(gumi <3): you’ve made enough of those

(gumi <3): no more

you quietly scoffed in your seat, thumbs rapidly typing away.

(you): gumi i can’t believe you’re not supportive of my extra curricular activities rn

(you): after EVERYTHING i’ve done for you

(you): after all the times i’ve sucked your dick

(you): and i thought you liked my edits :(

megumi took a minute to respond before your phone buzzed again.

(gumi <3): LOL

(gumi <3): i do baby i’m kidding

(gumi <3): and don’t put that image in my head rn

(you): oh??????

(you): and why not???? ;))

(you): boner alert perhaps??? ;))

(you): maybe today during our cute little date you can take me to pound town in the back seat of your car and make me cum and cry all over your dick gumi!!

you shrunk further down in your seat and snickered quietly, funnily shielding your phone to prevent anyone else seated around you in your lecture from seeing the absurd messages on your phone.

(gumi <3): jesus fucking christ

(gumi <3): why are you doing this

(you): because i loooveee youuuu <33

(you): and i can’t wait to seee youuuu <333

(you): maybe i should go to the bathroom rn and send you a boobie pic :P

(gumi <3): please

(gumi <3): fuck wait my breaks over i have to go

(gumi <3): fuck

you mushed a hand over your mouth to prevent yourself from laughing out loud, typing a response.

(you): BAAAAHAHAHAH

(you): OMG IM SO SORRY GUMI

(you): HAVE A GOOD REST OF YOUR PRACTICE OKAY ILL SEE YOU IN A BIT! <3

(gumi <3): do you think if i pretend to pass out coach will excuse me

(you): NO GUMI 

(you): GOOOO

(you): GO PLAY GO PLAY

(gumi <3): god

(gumi <3): fine

(gumi <3): i love you pretty baby i’ll see you 

(gumi <3): and pay attention

(you): i love you too gumiiii !!! <333

(you): NO PROMISES BYE !!!

(you): SMOOOCCCHHHH

you breathed out softly through your nose and set your phone back down, one leg crossing over the other as you impatiently waited and practically glared at the powerpoint slides in front of you, your ankle bouncing and mind drifting off again— double checking over the list of things you and megumi needed for your date instead repeatedly in case you forgot something.

since your anniversary couldn’t be an all day thing, the two of you planned a cute little car picnic date at a star gazing hotspot out in the hills of the city, a place megumi had actually been to before in his childhood with gojo and his sister, and one he said he remembered to be nice and quiet with a good view of the stars, similar to how they looked like when you all went on that trip in the mountains a few months ago with his dad, yuji, and your best friend— the fact only making you overly ecstatic, since megumi suggesting something like that without a little gruff and huff was always a special rare sight to see.

and the only things megumi literally allowed you to bring were the fuzzy blankets and pillows and such, him forbidding you from buying absolutely anything else like snacks, drinks, and the food, saying that he had it and it was okay— simply only chuckling and lightly flicking your forehead when you grumbled and fought with him over it in the hopes that he would let you take care of at least half of the things.

he did not.

“alright i think i’ll stop here for today and let you guys go a little earl—”

you shot up from your desk and shoved your books in your bag, not even letting your professor finish before you were already up and speed walking out of the lecture hall and down your building, thanking the gods above for the thousandth time that megumi’s stadium was only a fifteen minute drive from your campus, and therefore made it so much easier for you to drive on over without difficulties and pretty much whenever the fuck wanted… which was all of the time.

just as you plopped in the drivers seat and chucked your bag to the passengers side, an apparent buzzing vibrated through the right back pocket of your skirt as you reached in to pull it out, your best friend’s name flashing at the top.

“hellooo!” you answered, swinging the door shut and turning on the ignition, the heater unit blasting through the vents and warming up the spiking chilly temperature in your car.

“hi babe!” your best friend greeted. “how far away are you?”

“i just got out of class! i should be there in about ten if i go over the speed limiiit.” you grinned, putting your phone on speaker and setting it down on your lap, backing out of your parking space.

“SHE SAID TEN MINUTES GOING OVER THE SPEED LIMIT MEGU— what?! i can’t— i can’t hear you idiot you’re across the fucking field!—”

you laughed loudly as you drove out of your campus parking lot, zooming down the street and going the usual route to his stadium.

“oh my— megumi ordered and yelled at me to call you to see how far you were babe.” she sighed. “when is this man ever gonna treat me fairly this is ridiculous— WHAT?! TELL HER WHAT?!—”

“i’m about eight minutes away now!” you laughed. “tell him that please i’m almost there—”

“WAIT SHE SAID SHE’S EIGHT MINUTES AWA— oh my god okay megumi says not to go over the speed limit and to park next to him in the players parking lot.”

“tell him i said watching him play baseball is more important than the law i don’t give a—”

“SHE SAID WATCHING YOU PLAY BASEBALL IS MORE IMPORTANT THAN THE LAW— oh he’s coming. save yourself and hang up y/n he’s coming— YUJI GET HIM HE’S GONNA TAKE MY PHONE— ARGH STOP!—”

“—go over the speed limit and see what happens.”

a different deeper voice muttered over the line, partially out of breath and one you instantly recognized to be megumi’s as you giggled.

“gumi the speed limit is a social construct and if i don’t get to watch you play for the last thirty minutes of practice i’m gonna gauge my eyeballs out.”

“baseball’s also a social construct.” he deadpanned. “and you watch me play all of the time baby don’t speed you drive like a fucking street racer sometimes.”

“but isn’t it cool and sexy that i do? eehh?” you quipped in a silly way. “and i don’t care how many times i’ve seen you play gumi… i still need to be admitted into a mental facility each time it’s embarrassing.”

he chuckled softly.

“you almost here?”

“yeah! i’m just pulling into the stadium i’m going over to your structure right now.”

“okay.” he spoke. “park next to me please.”

“—megumi i told her that already—”

“can you not eavesdrop—”

“—if it has to do with y/n fuck no—”

“—okay!” you sputtered while shifting your gear to park and turning off the ignition, cutting their bickering off. “i’m here gumi i’m gonna walk to the stadium now.”

“alright i’ll see you baby.” 

“i’ll see you!—”

“your phone time’s revoked asswipe give me my device right now—”

“—can you mind your fucking business for two seconds—”

“NO!—”

you winced and hung up the phone, shaking your head amusedly as you grabbed your keys and stepped out of the car before locking it, walking your way over across the parking structure and to the entrance of the stadium, maneuvering through various hallways and corners like muscle memory and politely saying hello to some of the team’s staff that you recognized as you walked.

you passed through the main hall— megumi’s giant glorious handsome portrait still displayed proudly against the wall amongst his other teammates, prestigious awards and trophies in glass frames and casings littering the room from practically top to bottom as you happily moved through the hall, passing by the same bench that you first unknowingly and officially met megumi in while you were embarrassingly crying your eyes out over him— a treasured memory that you swoon over every now and then at the way he kindly gave you his sunglasses to hide your big fat tears.

you hoped that megumi’s management never replaced that freaking bench, as you wanted to put a plaque on it in commemoration of you and your emo man, knowing that if they ever did you’d be at those stadium doors first thing in the morning to grab and take it home with you to keep.

upon opening the doors to the stadium, you continued on down the steps as you looked on ahead and squinted your eyes, distant hollers and the clanking of bats echoing through the otherwise peaceful atmosphere, several players out on the field practicing and pitching but none being megumi as you reached the bottom and went inside the bullpen, expecting to see your best friend sitting there and possibly still fighting with your boyfriend, but faltering instead.

because megumi was sat there on the bench by himself with his baseball cap on… waiting for you, a bouquet of pretty pink tulips in his arms as he looked straight over the field with an emotionless gaze, his head snapping to you once he heard you coming in and standing up, his face gradually warming.

pink tulips were your favorite.

“gumi…” you spoke softly, astonished and mushy inside as you grabbed the bouquet from him, it neatly tucked in brown paper wrap and pretty pink tule with a little matching bow around the stems to tie it off, the paper crinkling in your arms.

“hi.”

“oh my— these are gorgeous baby thank you!” you gushed, your cheeks hot and you absolutely beaming as you swung your unoccupied arm around his neck and brought him in, pecking his slightly sweaty cheek repeatedly as he huffed out a breathy laugh and pulled you to him.

“you’re welcome.” he murmured, cheek lightly resting against the side of your head as you smiled.

“you really didn’t have to gumi you bought basically everything for today…” you spoke softly, bringing your head back a bit to look at him.

he shrugged.

“so.”

you scoffed. “so? you don’t let me do anything and i feel oppressed.”

he snorted, playfully rolling his eyes and kissing your forehead. 

dramatic.

“it’s fine baby.”

“okay but it’s not.” you grumbled lowly, and the corners of his lips quirked up, taking a tiny step back as he released you and lifted a hand, gently pinching your cheek.

“you look really pretty.”

your pout slid into a cheeky smile, a cute blush rising to your cheeks.

“thank you gumi!” you readjusted the bouquet in your arms and shyly looked away, his direct dark blue eyes on you still nerve wracking even after two years. 

“h— how come you’re not on the field?”

“oh.” megumi’s gaze shifted to his playing teammates. “i wanted to give you the tulips before going back out.”

your eyes softened, chest clenching as you stood up on your tippy toes and gave him a little kiss.

“you’re so nice…” you murmured. 

“i—”

“fushiguro i need you back on the field!”

megumi huffed and rolled his eyes at his coach interrupting his time with you, hands reluctantly dropping from your waist as he took a step back.

“m’sorry baby...” he sighed tiredly, lifting his cap up from his spiky hair and adjusting it back on. “practice is almost over i promise.”

you frantically shook your head. “no gumi it’s okay don’t apologize! go please though i don’t want you to get in trouble.”

he nodded, quickly pecking your cheek before stepping out of the bullpen and back out on the field, turning his body slightly just as he reached the home plate and raising a hand to you as a little goodbye, shifting his attention to his coach and the rest of his teammates once he saw you give him one back.

you walked over to the benches then and sat, your eyes happily watching the mock game unfold as you settled your pretty bouquet carefully over your lap.

“please tell me you guys are done it’s fucking cold up here in the stands—”

your head shot to the side and you instantly smiled, your best friend popping her head in from the bullpen entrance and shivering.

“heyyy! oh my god yes come come—” you scooched over and patted the spot next to you, her trodding over and plopping down.

“let me seeeee!” she squealed and nudged your shoulder with hers, gesturing to your tulips as you lit up and turned the bouquet in her direction, her jaw dropping.

“i hate him but he’s good.” she muttered, shaking her head as you laughed and lightly hit her arm. 

megumi ran through a few bases, passing by the bullpen and stopping at a base closest to it with remnants of brown dirt puffing and swirling through the air, him looking over his shoulder at you briefly before turning back to the game.

“he does so much for me that i feel like a big fat loser that does mediocre for him.” you spoke worriedly, and your girl friend looked at you bewilderedly.

“are you kidding? y/n you being with him is enough jesus that man is an ogre—”

you flicked her forehead and she cackled, pushing your hand away.

“i’m sorry! i’m sorry i’m joking… kind of…whatever— babe you literally do so much let him dote on you like this… that man loves you.”

you pursed your lips to suppress a giddy smile.

“plus after the pain and torture we both went through with your high school boyfriend christ—”

“oh my god don’t remind me.” you mumbled, shifting your attention back to the field. “he sucked so bad.”

she laughed. “and it took you forever to realize that he was a loser y/n… you gave him too much and he gave you absolutely nothing.”

you solemnly nodded, the feeling of miserable regret filling your body.

“granted i think megumi’s also a loser.” she continued, and you playfully glared. “but! he’s a different kind of loser. he’s good for you babe… and you’re super good for him.”

you grinned brightly at her, set your bouquet to the side, and threw your arms around her shoulders, bringing her in a tight hug as she laughed loudly and held you back with just as much love.

“have fun on your anniversary date tonight!” your girl friend exclaimed. “you guys are still going to that stargazing spot right?”

“mhm!” you nodded. “we’re going up in his car and setting up the backseat once we get there.”

“are you guys getting freaky too back there?—”

your head snapped ahead to find yuji leaning against the gate of the bullpen on the other side, your eyes wide and mortified as he wiggled his eyebrows suggestingly.

“h—huh?—”

“eehhh?” your best friend matched her boyfriends expression, her eyes twinkling and mischievous. “valid question yu! what are you wearing under your outfit let me see—”

you yelped as your best friend pulled and tugged at the collar of your chunky knitted sweater, basically shoving her head through to see what you had on and you pushing on her shoulders to try and get her away.

“stop you sicko!—”

“y/n why the fuck don’t you have a lingerie set under here—”

“oh my god shut your mouth right now—”

megumi curiously turned his head over to the commotion by the bullpen, jaw dropping and eyes growing big in absolute dumb struck horror as he watched your best friend basically trying to strip your sweater off of you, and yuji just standing there and watching like a fucking pervert—

“itadori!” he barked, and yuji jumped a whopping fifteen feet in the air, swiveling around to face him.

“oh hey man!— WHAT THE FU—”

megumi hurled a literal baseball at him and yuji dove out of the way, the ball hitting against the gate of the bullpen as you and your best friend jumped at the slamming noise.

“the fuck are you guys doing?!” megumi yelled, arms out in emphasis as he quickly strode over with pinched brows.

he looked to you as soon as he properly reached the bullpen, the collar of your sweater stretched out over an exposed shoulder with your black bra literally peeking out, your pretty eyes wide and downright alarmed as your best friend still had an iron tugging grip on your sweater.

megumi’s gaze hardened, switching to your girl friend.

“get off.”

he looked to yuji, his legs wobbling in fear as he used the gaps of the bullpen gate to lift himself up from the dirt.

“close your fucking eyes—”

“yes sir fushiguro sir!—”

“what?!” your best friend exclaimed. “megumi if you guys are gonna fuck in the backseat she needs to be looking scrumptious—”

his face paled and his cheeks turned a vibrant pink simultaneously.

“why are you guys always like this?” he muttered exasperatedly, stepping inside the bullpen now and pushing her off of you, your girl friend scoffing as megumi pulled your collar back over your shoulder and fixed your sweater for you, your lips clamped shut as you tried your best to refrain yourself from laughing.

“oh my bad. thought the perv in you would thank my services—”

“why the hell would i thank you for stripping my girlfriend in front of the entire fucking team—”

“—y/n i literally think i have a lingerie set in my car i’ll give it to you it’s new i just bought it to show yuji—”

you gasped. 

“wait really?! what color? i wanted to wear one but i didn’t want to show up to class with it—”

megumi’s eyes bulged and shot to you, mouth opening and closing like an idiot.

“i think it’s red but i’m pretty sure your tits are bigger than mine lemme see—”

your best friend yanked your collar again and you screamed as megumi grabbed you and pulled you up against his chest, shielding you away from your lunatic girl friend as she cackled and pointed at megumi.

“megumi’s getting a boonneeerrrr!—”

his eyes frantically switched between her and yuji— his hands still tightly clasped over his eyes.

“what kind of sick fucks are you both?!”

you giggled uncontrollably over his appalled menacing face, your laughter muffling up against his uniform.

“us?!” your best friend yelled. “don’t get me started on you! i saw that text you sent y/n last week asking to send a video of her fi—”

“oh god babe don’t finish that sentence also can i open my eyes now you guys—”

“itadori! fushiguro! huddle up!”

yuji timidly seperated his fingers and looked at the group, hands dropping and a wide smile spreading once he realized you weren’t half naked anymore.

“off we go fushiguro!” he quipped, turning and the dirt crackling beneath his cleats as he walked. “boss man wants us—”

“i heard him.” megumi grumbled, arms loosening from their hold around you as they slid and fell at his sides, his face just plain out annoyed and over it, and you smiled sweetly at him.

“it’s okay!” you poked his cheek. “i’ll wait for you here while you guys finish up? or do you want me to go inside the locker rooms already?”

“go to the locker rooms baby.” he mumbled. “it’s cold.”

you nodded, and he placed a hand on your head with the tiniest smile, heading out of the bullpen after and jogging up to the rest of his teammates for regrouping and final announcements.

your best friend swung a heavy arm around your shoulders and you both made your way to the exit just as you grabbed your bouquet again, walking up the steps of the stands and down a few corridors and pathways until you reached the echoey hallway, the teams locker room coming into view as you pushed the heavy door open and went in.

“do you still want my lingerie set?” your girl friend asked, fixing her hair in front of one of the big mirrors. “we could still try and see if it fits but your boobs are huge compared to mine—”

you laughed and waved her off. “it’s okay babe! thank you though… i don’t think we’re gonna do anything like that out in the open and in the middle of nowhere…”

she shrugged, sending you a little smirk through the mirror. “megumi’s a weirdo. so i think you in fact will.”

you shot her a funny glare and walked to your boyfriends locker while placing your pretty bouquet down on the bench— turning the little knob around and hitting the numbers that made up his locker combination, the metal clinking open and you opening it to organize his clothes and equipment like you usually did.

you dragged his heavy duffel bag out and unzipped it, rummaging around a little to find the clothes that he had packed for your date today— spotting his thick black crewneck and gray cargo pants as you took them out and folded them neatly on the bench in front of you, setting the rest of the things he needed to the side and perking up once you heard distant chattering and banter, several players starting to pile in as you shot a few polite smiles, stepping over the bench and plopping down to wait for megumi.

“i said no.”

“pleeeaaasee!” yuji begged, the two of them emerging from the entryway as you lit up at the sight of your grumpy man, his agitated eyes to the floor as he trudged over. “i thought we were best friends fushiguro. brothers if you will—”

“no.”

“pleaaaseee!—”

“what does he want?” you laughed softly, megumi’s eyes coming up and moving to his tidily folded clothes that you had set for him on the bench, his gaze softening.

“nothing bab—”

“wrestle!” yuji wailed, dramatically leaning his entire weight on your best friend in a hug as she dumbfoundedly reciprocated, patting his back. “i wanted to see who’s strongest…”

“babe go change you’re sweaty—”

“not until fushiguro wrestles with me—”

“no.”

“whyyy?!”

you giggled loudly, hand over your mouth as megumi sent you a small close lipped smile and stepped over the bench to his locker, taking off his baseball cap and hanging it inside.

“because it’s stupid.” he mumbled, and yuji scoffed.

“wrestling is the ultimate sport for strategy, discipline and character how could any of that be stupid—”

“yu change i wanna go homeee!” your best friend whined, trying to pry him off of her. “i’ll wrestle with you.”

yuji sprung up and grinned. “will you actually?! i won’t go easy babe i can’t play favorites—”

“yes now move—”

“if i win can you suck my di—”

megumi flung his deodorant at yuji’s head and rolled his eyes as he cried out and pouted, the little container clattering against the ground.

“gumi!” you gasped. “be nice please.”

he sighed softly through his nose, unbuttoning his jersey as he begrudgingly and briefly looked over his shoulder.

“sorry.”

“oh wait what was that?” you girl friend spoke up. “i think you need to speak up a little megumi! can’t hear you.”

“i said sorry.” he spat, and she smiled, satisfied.

“you’re forgiven! thanks!”

megumi grumbled as he shook his jersey off and long sleeve underneath with it, his little chain with his promise ring dangling out around his collar, and you shamelessly and obviously drooling over his bare toned frame then as he sorted through his clothes and got his things ready for the shower— the locker room emptying out now and only one or two players remaining besides the lot of you.

you extended a hand out, wanting megumi to give you his jersey and long sleeve as he shifted his attention to you.

“what baby.”

“i’ll put it in the laundry bin for you!” you spoke sweetly. “so you can go shower.”

his heart squeezed as he shook his head. “s’okay. just wait for me.”

“gumi the laundry room’s just down the hall.” you laughed, taking his uniform from him. “i’ll be quick.”

he pursed his lips, feeling like you’ve already done more than enough for him and him just dicking around and playing ball for hours this entire time, wanting to get your date started so he could spend time with you and give you the things he wanted to give you, and not be around idiot insane people anymore (yuji and your best friend).

“sit down please.” he mumbled.

your jaw dropped.

“i’m being oppressed again—”

“we’ll see you guys tomorrow!” your girl friend smiled, coming over and giving you a hug as yuji went to put a hand on megumi’s shoulder. “have fun on your date! and happy anniversaryyy!”

“thank youuuu!” you responded kindly, hugging her back and swaying funnily, letting her go after and looking to her boyfriend. “drive safe yuji okay?”

“will do!” he smiled brightly, wrapping a friendly arm around your shoulders and pulling you in. “have fun you guys. and don’t get mauled by bears.”

you snorted, the both of you pulling back and waving at each other with final goodbyes before they turned and began walking to the exit, now the only ones left in the locker rooms being you and megumi. 

“text me if you have sex in the back y/n!”

“oh my god!—” you miserably dropped your head in your hands as your girl friends vulgar sentence literally echoed throughout the hallway outside, anyone within a one inch radius able to hear it as megumi laughed quietly, the doors to the locker room officially closing.

“your best friend is clinically insane.”

you giggled, nudging him away playfully and him catching your wrist just as you did so, tugging you in and wrapping his arms around your shoulders.

“no she’s not.” you smiled cutely, your little cheek pressed up against the warm skin of his chest as he looked at you. “she’s honest. and lovely.”

“and deluded.”

“gumi!”

“sorry.”

he craned his neck down and kissed you, every tense muscle in his body giving away and slowly oozing into a state of peace as your soft lips moved with his, megumi finally having you to himself for the night so he could properly get your anniversary going.

he pulled away and patted your head.

“m’gonna shower really quick baby.”

“okay!” you smiled. “can i sit by the shower with you? heh.”

he chuckled and nodded, interlocking his fingers with yours and pulling you towards the shower room— a spacious and modern area with individual stalls and little plushy sofas across from them, megumi leading you to one as you sat down and took his fresh pair of clothes from him to set on your lap.

“remember when i fucked you in here.”

“gumi!” you gasped as your face grew red. “okay but which time because my favorite time was two weeks ago when you bent me over th—”

he laughed, the boyish sound bouncing off the tile walls as he shook his head with a little faint blush to his cheeks, fingers coming down to unbutton his pants and your hands flying to cover over your eyes, him pausing and looking at you quizzically.

“what.”

“i’m giving you privacy gumi. something you wouldn’t know about in regards to me.”

he scoffed.

“kay fine. i’ll stop asking—”

“no!” you yelled, hands clasping together like a prayer. “don’t finish that sentence i don’t wanna know i don’t need to know whatever it is continue doing it—”

megumi rolled his eyes with a smile, taking off the rest of his clothes and you squeaking as you covered your line of sight again, the sound of the shower running with the door closing an indicator to you that the coast was clear for you to look, hands coming down as they settled over megumi’s clean clothes.

and he literally took less than five minutes to shower… or maybe it was because your little endless chattering made the time go by faster or the fact that you always took close to an hour, but he was out of there with a towel around his delicious waist before you could even realize and on the way out to change into his outfit.

megumi straight from the shower was always an interesting sight to see, for the usual spikes in his jet black hair were nonexistent for the time being as his hair just laid flat, and he almost looked like an entirely different man as you stood on the other side of the bench behind him while he sat tying his shoe laces, you drying his hair with a small white hand towel.

“i’m really excited for tonight gumi!” you cheesed. “oh! and i brought my laptop too incase you wanted to watch a movieeee.”

he straightened up from his hunched over position and stood, turning around to kiss your head in gratitude before taking the towel from you and drying off the last bit of his hair.

“sounds good baby.” he grabbed his duffel bag and swung it over his shoulder, keys hooked from one of his belt loops on his pants as he offered his hand out to you on the way out of the locker room, you happily taking it and interlacing your fingers in the hallway, the both of you walking on to leave the stadium with your bouquet in your arm, making a quick pit stop at the laundry room first to toss his uniform and towels in one of the various hampers, leaving and going through the main hall hand in hand after with the building basically vacant now— not a single player, staff, or management member around as you moved your way down corridors to the exit, entering the parking garage.

megumi grabbed his keys and clicked a button upon reaching the players parking lot area, his shiny black car beeping and flickering its lights and him opening the door to the backseat to throw his stuff in, you catching a glimpse of the piles of grocery bags filled with chips, snacks, pastries and such as you smiled, unlocking your own vehicle and opening your trunk as megumi did his.

he swiftly stepped in and grabbed your blankets and a few pillows, transferring them over to his car and you setting your bouquet down in the back, throwing in a few other things.

“oh gumi!” 

“hm?”

you opened your drivers side door and reached in, megumi peering around from his open trunk to look at you.

“i got us a little lunchbox cake!” you pulled out a small white cake carrier and showed him. “and a number two candle too so we can light it!”

“oh nice baby.” he calmly smiled, reaching into the pocket of his cargo pants and pulling out his wallet.

you blinked.

“what are you doing?”

he gave you a confused look, opening the folds and taking out a few twenty dollar bills.

“for the cake.”

“what?!” you frantically shook your head. “no i got this for us—”

he scoffed, extending his arm out to you regardless with a pile of bills in hand that was way over the initial cost of the little cake, your jaw running slack.

“oh absolutely not sir i’m not taking that—”

“take it.”

“nope!”

“y/n.”

“nuh uh.”

megumi sighed and retracted his hand. “i’m putting it in your purse—”

“if you put it in my purse i swear to god i’m never letting you see me naked ever again—”

he froze and narrowed his eyes at you, you standing there with a shit eating grin as you tilted your head.

“just get in the car.” he grumbled, slamming his trunk shut and doing the same with yours, you cheering in your head and lighting up over your win as you opened his passenger side door and got in, completely unaware of megumi choosing to take his chances and shove the bills in your purse anyways.

the car ride there was a whopping one hour, seeing as the stargazing hotspot was in the middle of the bustling city where megumi’s apartment was around, your boyfriend making frequent stops at various food places to pick up the food he had ordered for the picnic, and you still fighting with him over the fact that he should let you pay at least half, him just laughing at your huffs and puffs until he simmered you down to a mere grumble with a kiss to your cheek.

“i don’t care how many times i’ve done it there isn’t a limit.” 

megumi backed in reverse once he found a good spot for you both on the hill, looking behind through his rear view window with a hand on the back of your headrest.

“but you have to let me pay sometimes gumi.” you sighed softly. “i feel like im freeloading off of your millions and doing fucking nothing.”

he gave you a bewildered look.

“first of all.” he shifted his gear into park. “you do everything so don’t give me that. second of all—”

he unlocked the car and you both got out, the trunk latching open on its own as you walked over.

“you’re not supposed to pay baby.” he stared at you sincerely, a little crease in between his brows. “ever. i don’t care.”

he unhooked the backseats and pushed them down, the trunk now extending even wider and leaving plenty of space for the two of you to set up your picnic, your shoes off and down below next to the car.

“i just—” you struggled, shaking out the blankets and splaying them out. “i worry that it’ll bother you eventually…”

“it won’t.” he responded firmly, yet still gentle. “did your ex-boyfriend make you feel bad about it? is that why?”

you froze.

“no…”

he looked over his shoulder just as he set a pillow down, dark blue eyes staring you down.

“wow i’m so hungry right now gumi are you—”

“i heard what your best friend said during practice about him.” he set a few more pillows down. “she talks like a linebacker.”

you laughed, grabbing the box of fairy lights you had brought and pulling them out, untangling them by sections.

megumi never really asked too in detail about your ex, just because he knew he’d get bitter and bothered by the thought of it, and the only things he really knew was that he was a moron who said you were a blabbermouth and didn’t treat you right at all, your three and a half year relationship with him in high school one megumi wished he could erase entirely.

but now with the way you squirmed and stared off into space in avoidance over this particular topic… he was curious.

just how bad was he?

“did he pay for your dates or did you.”

you fiddled with a little fairy light bulb.

“well— he did… but then we started splitting it… and then i started paying…”

megumi shook his head, reaching for the grocery bags and taking out the snacks he’d bought.

“why.”

you finished untangling the cord and reached up, looping the lights around through the grab handles of the car.

“i don’t really know…” you mumbled. “but i felt bad because he always did initially pay… so i was just giving back. but then—”

you looped it through the last handle and grabbed the battery box.

“i remember one time he asked me if we could split the bill on our anniversary dinner.”

megumi stopped.

“and then every time he did pay for me he would say side joking comments like— ‘are you gonna pay this time? are you gonna take care of the bill? since i bought you dinner are you gonna buy me this?’ blah blah—”

megumi was looking directly at you at this point, eyebrows furrowed and with slightly parted lips as he slowly set up the food and listened.

“and i don’t mess around when it comes to things like money.” you finished off screwing the battery box after putting a fresh pair in, switching the small lever and the fairly lights twinkling to life. “i appreciated so much every time he did pay so i just felt like i was— i don’t know i just felt guilty. his side comments made me feel a little awkward…”

you scooched over and sat back on your ankles next to megumi, helping him with the groceries.

“i remember one time too for valentine’s day, we had gone out to eat dinner and he paid with his usual side comment… but when we got back to his place i had given him his gift and he hadn’t gotten anything for me at all.”

“huh?” he spoke up. “did he give you flowers at least?”

you shook your head, a little sad look on your face.

“he told me my gift was dinner… which again i did really appreciate that he paid. and he never really got me flowers either unless it was for special occasions like anniversaries… so once a year?”

megumi was in complete and utter disbelief.

how in the ever living fuck were you ever with a guy like that for so long? a girl like you whom he literally worshipped the shit out of the ground you walked on, the thought of you being so incredibly sweet and doting and selfless for some dumb fuck who just took advantage of your kindness again aggravating megumi, him chucking the pastries he bought out of the bags one by one bitterly and you blinking at him.

“what a fucking idiot.”

you giggled, nodding in agreement as you both finished setting up, you crawling and sitting down by the mountain of fluffy pillows as you extended an arm out for him.

“that’s why i just get nervous gumi…” you spoke softly, pulling him to lay down next to you as you looked at the beading stars through his open sun roof, the view and landscape of the sparkling city below insane as megumi slid an am around your shoulders, nudging you to lay on his chest. “i don’t wanna end up bothering you or upsetting you about it and repeating the cycle so—”

“oh god baby no…” he looked at you, squeezing your shoulder. “you realize all of that was because he’s a loser right.”

“yeah to an extent—”

“no not to an extent.” megumi cut you off. “i know for a fact he never did anything for you… and for him to do shit like that on top of it is crazy.”

you slid a slow arm across his torso and held him tighter.

“i do what i do because i love you… and because you deserve it. and because i’m supposed to.”

you smiled big, your heart hammering in your chest as you slung your leg across his lap and straddled him then, megumi’s hands instantly coming to settle on your waist as you gave him a cute wicked look.

“i’m tired of talking about him, but you know what else you’re supposed to do?”

the side of his lip curled.

“what pretty baby.”

“make out with me.”

he laughed, a shiny smile on his face as he reached a hand up and brushed your hair over your shoulder, cupping your face after and bringing you down to his level.

“if you tell me you love me.”

you giggled.

“i love you gumi.”

megumi brought you in then and kissed you, light little smacks and wet lips parting and moving as your noses brushed against each other’s delicately, his thumb running gently over your cheek as you readjusted and leaned in, deepening the kiss and megumi parting his lips wider as a result to drink more of you down.

your hips subconsciously rutted downward, him taking a sharp breath in through his nose as he responded and lifted his crotch up, meeting with yours and grinding sensually with every steamy exchange of your soft plush lips on his, both of his hands quickly going down to grab your smooth thighs and knead them.

megumi suddenly slid a fast hand up your chunky sweater to cup your tit, you squeaking and trying to pull your lips off of his so you could speak, but him only chasing after your mouth and trapping you in.

“wait what if— mmph!—” 

“hm?” 

he forced your hips down again and you both moaned at the stimulation.

“what if someone walks by there’s a— fuck— there’s a few cars not too far—”

“don’t care.”

“gumi!—”

he yanked your bra cup down and your tit spilled out, his head diving in under your sweater and popping your nipple in his mouth, both of your hips still grinding and rocking against each others as you dazedly tried to look around for any passing people.

you tried to pull off and megumi yanked your other bra cup down, jerking you roughly to him as your weight gave out underneath you and you basically fell on him, his face fully submerged and stuffed in your puffy tits that he nearly lost it and came in his pants.

lewd slobbering sounds filled the car as he sucked and laid his tongue flat all over your boobs, your shuttering gasps and whines making his dick rock fucking solid in his pants as he continued to make out with your chest, relishing in the feeling of your panties running up and down his crotch and your pretty little skirt exposing your ass.

“baby i’m flashing the city please—”

“m’gonna stick my dick in.”

“no!” you whined, your clit pulsing with every rut from his hips. “when we get home when we get home please it’ll be so obvious we’re having sex if we do—”

he bit the fat of your tit and you yelped.

“it’s our anniversary.”

“i— i know gumi but there’s people!—”

he groaned and let your tits go with a pop, head falling back on the pillows as he looked at you with a dead look— knowing you were completely and absolutely right but refusing to believe it because he was fucking horny, the only conscious brain cell that he had left telling him to just wait and that he’d actually cum in his pants if he kept going.

a tiny smirk spread across his face.

“thought you texted me that i could take you to pound town in the backseat of my car.” 

you blushed, totally forgetting you did that.

“y—yes but—”

“and that you were gonna send me a picture of your tits.”

“i—”

“you lying to me baby?”

“no!” you sputtered. “no gumi we’re still gonna have sex just not here!”

he laughed loudly and nodded, pinching your cheek as he fixed your bra and pulled your sweater down, sitting up a bit.

“i’m kidding s’okay.” he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. “m’taking pictures of you when we get to my apartment though.”

“huh?!” you exclaimed, your face buzzing with embarrassment but need at the same time. “what— what kind—”

he poked your side. 

“naked.”

your jaw dropped.

“legs spread with—”

“okay i get it i get it!—”

you slapped your hands over his mouth and muffled the rest of his sentence, desperate to get him to stop.

“i have your gift i have your gift open your gift!—”

megumi rolled his eyes and licked his slimy tongue on your palms, you snatching your hands away and giggling as you wiped them on his sweater.

“i told you not to get me anything.”

“too bad!” you grinned, pecking his cheek before swinging yourself off of his lap and reaching into the passengers seat. “close your eyes!”

he sighed softly, a small smile on his face as he complied, hearing slight tissue paper rustlings and things moving before he felt you next to him again.

“okay open!”

his long lashes lifted, eyes growing soft at the ginormous basket you made him— his favorite candies and chips neatly propped up inside with a little baseball teddy bear that had ‘cool baseball man’ embroidered across its jersey, a framed silly picture of the two of you from one of the nights you slept over at his place, various volumes of his current favorite manga wrapped in black tissue paper along with a lego race car set, and a separate shoe box next to the basket— a brand new pair of baseball cleats that he had been specifically eyeing and needing to buy, and knowing that it was ridiculously expensive too as his bulging eyes shot up to your giddy ones.

“baby—” his words got caught in his throat, shaking his head. “baby thank you but you didn’t have to get anything seriously—”

“the fuck.” you snorted. “yes i did! do you likeeee?”

you pushed the shoe box towards him.

“did i get the right ones? these are the cleats you’ve been wanting right?”

he nodded dumbly. “y—yeah but they’re expensive i don’t want you spending this much.”

“gumi money is a social construct.” you smiled. “but my love for you isn’t… it’s bible! happy anniversary!”

megumi looked down and slowly took the little grizzly bear out of the basket, everything you gave him absolutely perfect and filled with the things he loved, but the custom bear with the nickname you always called him— the same one he adored ever since you first said it, somehow pulling at his heart strings more than anything else.

“i love you.” he mumbled. “thank you.”

you beamed, leaning over and pecking his lips.

“because you do everything for me gumi.” you spoke. “i can’t thank you enough for the things you do for me… and i love you.”

a cute pink blush rose to his cheeks as his gaze stayed locked on the bear, feeling his throat closing up from how much you were affecting him at the moment.

he sent you a smile.

“can i give you mine?”

you stopped.

“what? i thought the pretty tulips were my gift?”

he snorted, giving you a look.

“no you dummy.” 

he reached under one of the seats, pulling gift bag after gift bag after gift bag from somewhere as he placed them all in a line in front of you, a shocked look on your face as you looked at the amount of tissue paper and packaging that was in your line of sight.

“holy shit.” you flashed him a growing dazzling smile. “are you— for me? actually?”

he nodded.

“guummiii!!” you flung your arms around his neck and pulled him in a tight hug, rubbing your cheek on his head side to side in a silly way before you let go and sat back on your ankles again, him chuckling at your excitement.

“i don’t even—” your eyes darted around. “i don’t even know which one—”

one by one you unraveled each wrapping and tore open each bag, your lap filling up with things that you fucking loved as you tried not to cry between opening each gift— pretty intricate coquette bottled perfumes that you liked to collect everywhere as you knew they were also a pretty penny (so him complaining about his cleats was dumb), cute mary jane pumps and makeup you needed as well as new that you’d been wanting, silver and gold sparkling jewelry that resided in small boxes and wrapped in pretty pink bows, sweaters and cute tops and just fucking everything as you ended up a crying snotting mess at the end of it anyways, him laughing at you.

because each item were things that you needed, things that you knew he couldn’t have possibly known unless he was truly paying attention to the things you were saying and the things you were looking at… this moment proving that he most definitely was.

and a crazy wicked amount too— because some of the items in front of you were even things you had merely mentioned once and done with, accompanied by others that you babbled on about whenever you could.

“gumi we can have sex right now let’s have sex i don’t care—”

he laughed for the millionth time and shot his hands out, literally trying to pull you off of him as you lunged and leaned your entire weight on him, practically fighting him by the end of it as you giggled and tried to get in his pants.

“you’re harassing me.” he mumbled, and you scoffed.

“like you don’t do this to me everyday of my living life— eek!”

megumi bit your cheek and you pushed on his chest to get him away, him not budging as his nibbling travelled down to your neck as you gasped for air laughing at how much that was tickling you, and him knowing that was what usually set you off into a giggle fit, your stomach aching and him dodging your hits and swings, but both of your hearts full from a days worth of complete and utter unconditional love.

and neither of you would have it any other way as you shared the food and pastries you bought, stuffing your faces full of chocolates and mochi specifically as you both had insane sweet tooth’s and weren’t ashamed of it, chatted on about future plans and your excitement for megumi and the upcoming world series, and you elated for the holiday season too that was fast approaching, your little mind already thinking of gifts and plans and decisions because your boyfriend’s birthday was coming up as well.

and you wanted to do everything you possibly could to make it special.

for he made you feel that everyday.

especially now in this moment, the little heart shaped lunchbox cake you bought with ‘happy 2nd anniversary’ in cursive still looking fucking delicious even after you and megumi had just downed an entire pack of brownies, megumi lightning up the number two candle as you pushed it in the cake, and the both of you sweetly pecking lips as you held up the cake in between the two of you and him snapping a picture with his phone— candid and lovely and everything you’d both ever wanted in your lives rightfully yours right then and there.

happiness. love. 

and your hearts were swelling with everything you had built for the past two years, and swelling in anticipation for the hopes and curiosity of what else the two of you would continue to build… something you only hoped would last forever and ever and that you got to count and spend even more anniversaries with megumi from this point forward.

with nothing less, nothing extra, and just like this.

for a million more november’s to come.

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

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[sinner-as-saint]

scary? my god, you're divine

Hitman/Mob!Bucky x Reader 

Run-through: Your marriage to Bucky Barnes was crucial in stopping the rivalry that had been getting rather violent recently between the two families. You agreed to it. But there was one little problem. Although people knew of Bucky as being a ruthless, fiercely loyal, and feared hitman, no one had ever seen his face. In the rare occasions when he’d been seen out during assignments, it was rumoured that he always wore some sort of mask which covered most of his face. So you ended up marrying a man, and had no idea what he looked like. But surely that wouldn’t be an issue. It’s not like his one touch would get you addicted. Who cared what he looked like? It’s not like you could grow to love someone like him anyway… right? 

Themes: arranged marriage, age gap (reader is in her mid twenties, bucky’s in his late thirties), mentions of violence and death, hitman!Bucky, smut, fluff, explicit language, virgin!reader, HEA

Something woke you up in the middle of the night. 

And you’d been staring at the dark ceiling above your bed for the past few minutes now. What had woken you up? It could’ve been the strong winds hitting the large Georgian windows. Or perhaps it was the soft ticking of the nearby clock. Or maybe even the weight of all the incessant thoughts running through your head. 

Gods, you thought, what a day. 

It had started out like any other. Your father was pacing around, worried and barking orders on the phone, trying to find a way to put a stop to this chaos that was quickly forming into a full war between him and his number one rival. Small attacks had turned to frequent drive-bys, threats had turned into taking turns and blowing up each other’s warehouses and clubs. And it would only get worse and worse. 

But this morning, as he watched you come downstairs and into the dining room for breakfast, something in his eyes was different. And you could tell what was coming. You had been thinking about this for days. So when he sat you down and discussed how you could do your part in helping to put an end to all of this. 

“It’s only a matter of time before he sends his son, his favourite weapon after us all,” Your father sounded defeated. “And none of us would survive him. No one ever does. You know that.” 

You nodded, understanding what he meant. “I know.” 

The son of your father’s rival, Bucky Barnes, was a name which could make even powerful men like your father tremble in fear. He was like a ghost. No one ever saw him. No one knew what he looked like. Those who had seen him claimed that he always wore a muzzle-like mask to conceal his identity. He was known for being his father’s most prized weapon. They say he never misses, that his aim is and has always been as sure as Eros’ arrows. He was like an evil Cupid. 

“The marriage would only be on paper of course, you don’t have to live with him.” Your father explained, seeming desolated, “But you being married to him would make us family, and…” He trailed off, sighing. 

But you knew what he meant. Family meant everything in this society. If your family and the rival’s were joined to each other by marriage, all attacks would cease. Because keeping family safe was everyone’s number one priority, even in this line of work. 

So this was all up to you now. Your family’s safety, the safety of people who worked with and for your father, all the allies, and friends, and acquaintances. It was a heavy weight to carry. 

“I’ll do it.” 

Things happened so quickly after that. Phone calls were had, arrangements and deals were made, and by the afternoon, a sheet of paper was brought to you. That’s it. No groom, no fancy shit. Just a piece of paper on which Bucky Barnes had already signed. And with your signature added next to his, you two were now forever husband and wife by law. 

It was weird, being married to a man you had never seen before. He was just a name. Granted, a name with immense magnitude in the society, but still just a name. No face to go with it. 

By the evening, your things were packed. It was an order by your new husband. He wanted his new bride in his home, and things were so freshly mended that neither you nor your father wanted to argue. So Bucky sent cars and a bunch of his soldiers to escort you to his house. It was not unexpected that he was so absent from all this. Bucky Barnes had a reputation of living in the shadows. He was so rarely seen.

Bucky’s house was not too far from your family home. In fact, the closer you got to your new home, the more you realised that despite everything, you did not mind this as much as you thought you would. 

Your husband’s home was this stunning piece of architecture. A lavish Georgian-style mansion. Beige stone, carved details and mouldings around the many windows and main entrance. Dark shingles on the roof, well-manicured lawn, a long driveway giving it a sense of both elegance and exclusivity. The mansion sat on a beautiful, seemingly endless estate. Lush and green. It was a testament to the wealth and the power of its owner. 

You were politely led inside the home by one of the many staff members who took care of the house. And the interior was just as breathtaking. Luxurious, with the right amount of vintage accents. 

“We did what we could with the limited time we had to prepare a room for you.” The kind lady had said to you. She also mentioned that this room would be entirely yours. Bucky apparently had his own on the other side of the mansion. 

You murmured that it was alright, and when she finally showed you to the room they had ready for you, you were pleasantly impressed. The layout, the colour theme, the decor, all of it was to your liking. You even had a personal little balcony which looked over the endless green backyard. 

That night you dined alone, which was not a surprise. Everyone knew Bucky Barnes was a busy man, and he was apparently above trivial things like dining with his new wife. But the silence was welcomed. After dinner you found yourself back in your bedroom, and soon in bed with a book. 

Well, maybe this was your new life now. Grand mansion with an impressive library. Solo dinners and kind staff members. A giant, dreamy bedroom all for you. Dare you say, it wasn’t too bad. 

–

But here you were now, unable to fall back asleep after some mysterious thing woke you up. You sighed, sitting up and leaning against the headboard. You couldn’t even blame your new surroundings for your inability to sleep. Everything here was so quiet, and comfortable. Even this new bed felt like laying on the fluffiest cloud. Perhaps you could read some more–

You froze when you heard it. 

Someone breathing. Someone else’s breaths. A soft exhale, but it was enough to make your heart race in panic. It was the middle of the night. And there was someone in this dark room with you. 

Slowly, you tried to reach for the lamp on your bedside table to turn it on, but then you heard a voice say, “Don’t.” 

A smooth, relaxed, male voice. Sounding like it came from one corner of the room. It could only be one man, couldn’t it? 

“Bucky?” You questioned, for some reasons pulling the covers up to your chin as if he was not a man but a ghost. 

A pause, then he said, like he was gently teasing you, “Hello, wife. Can’t sleep?” 

You blinked a few times to adjust to the darkness better. You strained your eyes until you could see the silhouette of a man in the corner of the room. He was sitting in one of the sofas near the unlit fireplace, quiet, still like a marble statue. 

There was almost no light coming into the room. The thick curtains allowed very little moonlight in, and it was hard to see. But you couldn’t ignore that large silhouette now that you’d noticed him. Something near him was shiny, almost metal like, you couldn’t tell what it was. 

“Do you always lurk around in the shadows like a ghost?” You asked, wondering where the hell you found the confidence to talk to one of the finest hitmen like this. It’s not like he would shoot you if he didn’t like you. A small voice said. Would he? 

A chuckle. Deep, and careless. A boyish sound. 

“It’s my house,” He responded in that same gentle but teasing tone, “I lurk wherever I please.” 

Well, he did have a point there. 

“Well then,” You said in a casual tone, “If you’re done lurking and spying on me, I’d like to go back to bed.” 

A soft scoff. Then he said, “I’ve watched you toss and turn for the past half an hour. I’d say you’re having trouble turning your brain off.” 

Half an hour?! 

“Wouldn’t you?” You retorted, keeping your voice calm and steady. “If you were forced to marry someone who’s so mysterious that no one’s ever seen them before, wouldn’t you have some trouble turning your brain off?” 

“Ah.” He got up, and you could tell by the sound of his footsteps that he was approaching the bed, “No one forced you to marry me. A suggestion was made and you agreed to it.” 

You replied quickly, “The alternative was watching everyone I love and myself be murdered by you, so semantics.” 

Another chuckle as he stopped at the edge of the bed, so close to you. You refused to move. You tilted your head up but could still only see his silhouette. He spoke in that teasing tone again, “They said you were smart, and beautiful. Guess they forgot to mention you were bratty too.” 

You frowned. “What?” 

Silence. Then he began moving away from your bed and towards the door. “Good night, wife.” 

“Good night,” You muttered, slightly annoyed and confused, “Ghost.” 

You heard his soft chuckle right as he shut the door behind him and left you all alone again in the dark. You didn’t dare turn the lamp on even after he left. 

— 

“Is Bucky ever home?” 

You asked one of the staff members at breakfast the next morning. The lady smiled at you and answered, “He keeps to himself. We rarely ever know if he’s home or not. He works at odd hours, you see? Besides, our job is to take care of the house. We clean, we make the meals and leave them in the fridge, we get our paychecks each month. Everyone is happy. We don’t pry.” 

You nodded, sipping on some tea. “So… are you one of the people who don’t know what he looks like?” 

“Oh no. I saw him recently.” She said, smiling. 

“How recent?” You asked. 

“A couple of months ago. He’s a busy man, he’s rarely ever home.” 

Unbelievable. 

“Doesn’t it feel like you’re employed by a ghost?” 

She smiled again, refilled your cup and said, “Oh, we’re used to Mr. Barnes. Sure, sometimes it feels like the house is way too empty. But look, now you’re here! We get to take proper care of someone for once.” 

She was so cheery and kind that you couldn’t help but smile at her words. How on earth did a man that grim manage to have the best staff members in the whole world? 

— 

The following night, Bucky came to see you again. 

You woke up upon hearing the door of your bedroom opening. You sat up again, leaning against the headboard. You didn’t reach for the lamp on your bedside table this time. Instead you said, “Lurking again, I see.” 

“Oh yes,” He answered, taking a seat on the same sofa by the dark fireplace. “How was your day, wife?” He asked, as if this was the most normal way to have a conversation. 

“Good.” You said, “I spoke with your staff members. They say they barely ever see you at home.” 

He sighed, “I barely ever am at home.” 

You rolled your eyes even though you knew he couldn’t see it. He was too… intangible. Faceless. There was nothing you knew about him aside from his profession. And not knowing was starting to annoy you. 

“Why can’t I see you?” You asked. “I mean it’s not fair. I married you. I’ll eventually see you someday.” 

He was silent for a moment. Then asked, “Will you?” 

“Well, yes.” 

“What for?” There was that teasing tone again. So subtle. But it was there. 

Your face burned. “Well… we’re married.” You stated the obvious. “And it won’t be long till our families start asking for, you know, grandbabies.” 

“Babies can be made in the dark.” His smooth voice felt like a gentle caress. Like the finest, cool silk sliding over your warm body… 

Oh no. You can’t like his voice. Not yet. 

“That’s not what I–,” You sighed, “Why are you so against showing your face? Are you ugly?” 

He chuckled then. Loudly, if you could see him you’d surely see his shoulders shaking. “You think too much, wife.” He got up again, ready to leave. “Good night.” 

You sighed, defeated, and listened to the sounds of him leaving the room. Then almost angrily whispered, “Good night, husband.” 

—

“It’s because he’s ugly, isn’t it?” You asked two of the staff members one morning while they set the table for your breakfast. “That’s why he doesn’t show his face?” 

The two ladies chuckled to themselves, and one of them said, “No he isn’t.” She sounded confident too. 

“Have you seen his face? Like properly?” 

They both nodded. 

“And? You don’t find it weird that he doesn’t show his face?” You questioned. “He refuses to let me see him. He only comes to talk to me in the dark. Like some messed up Eros.” You whispered the last part to yourself. 

One of the ladies said, gently, “Give him time. He’s not… terrible.” 

— 

“Your staff speaks highly of you.” You said to him when he came to see you that night. Again, sat in that corner like a ghost whose only purpose was to haunt your bedroom specifically. 

“Do they?” 

“Yes,” You made yourself comfortable, leaning against the headboard like you had the habit of doing. “Do you pay them to sing your praises?” 

He chuckled. “Is it that hard to believe that I’m not some sort of monster?” 

You sighed. “If not then why can’t I see you?” 

“Not yet.” He said. 

“Why?” 

“Because I said so.” He replied, and by the sounds of it, he stood up. Surely ready to leave. “Now, is there anything you need?” 

You tried to see if you could tell where he was standing but the room was too dark. However, it seemed like, judging by the sound of footsteps, that he’d gotten closer to the end of your bed. “There’s nothing to do around the house. The ladies take care of everything. I appreciate the library, but…” 

He was quiet, like he was thinking. Then said, “I’ll see to it.” 

“I’m assuming you won’t let me go back to work in my family’s companies.” You could tell he wouldn’t. 

“No,” He said, as expected. “You’re my wife now. I’m well equipped to provide for you and see to your needs for the rest of our lives. But if you have any hobbies, please, indulge away.” 

Something about his calm tone made you confess your little secret, “I like to paint. I’ve always wanted to be an artist.” 

You didn’t know why you were telling him all this. Perhaps the dark helped you open up better. Maybe the fact that you didn’t know him made it easier to talk. Like how people tend to prefer texting over calls. Him being so invisible made it so much more effortless. 

You continued, “I always wonder what it must be like to have an exhibition of my works.” You chuckled. “I know it sounds vain but… I’ve always wanted to let my mind and soul leak all over canvases, and share it with the world. I think it’s such a brave thing when people do that.” 

He was quiet for a few seconds, then spoke in that teasing tone, “Painting, huh?” 

You rolled your eyes. “You don’t get to make fun of me, ghost.” 

He chuckled. “Get some sleep, wife.” 

And then he left. 

— 

The following morning, you woke up to two surprises. 

The first one was waiting for you at the breakfast table. You noticed the box on the floor immediately. It was partially opened, and had a note stuck to it. 

The note read: ‘Since there’s nothing to do around the house…’ written in a messy handwriting. Surely Bucky’s. 

You opened the box and in there, on a folded blanket, was a sleeping, fluffy little puppy. A black lab it seemed. With a pink collar around her neck. You gasped as you gently picked it up and couldn’t resist bringing it up to your face. Puppies always smelt so good. 

The little one yawned and let out some cute noises as you held her up to look at her properly. By now the two ladies whom you saw frequently around the house walked up to you and one of them said, “He left something else for you.” 

You followed the ladies, new puppy in hand, and they led you to what seemed like a newly built studio. It was in an area of the mansion where you didn’t go very often. And as you walked in, you gasped in surprise for the second time that morning. 

It was located on the ground floor. A bright and spacious space. The beige walls felt like a giant blank canvas in itself. The large Georgian windows allowed the perfect amount of light in. And everything in the room was neatly organised. Art supplies, paints, canvases, palettes, easels. 

Oh, it was perfect. 

The ladies left you to explore on your own, saying something about bringing you breakfast in here. But you were distracted by the bright yellow sticky note on one of the easels. You walked up to it and it read: ‘For your mind and soul to leak all over. Paint me something. I’ll consider it a wedding gift.’ 

You couldn’t help the smile on your face as you read and re-read the note left by your mysterious husband. You whispered to your sleeping puppy, “Maybe our ghost isn’t so bad, huh?” 

-

Hours went by. 

The ladies brought you and the puppy your meals, a bed for the pup, snacks for you, all while you were busy letting your creativity flow as much as possible. 

The first few canvases were horrible according to you. You hadn’t picked up a paintbrush in so long so it felt like day one all over again. But gradually, over the next few canvases, you could see what your brain was trying to create. 

The blank canvas soon turned into flowy shapes. Curves, facial features, hands. Entwining bodies. Two of them. And the colour purple, lots of it. It didn’t make too much sense at first, but the more you worked on it the more you realised what you were painting. 

It was your version of ‘The Abduction of Psyche’. How fitting. 

By the time you were done and happy with it, your back was aching from sitting on that stool all day. It was almost time for dinner. The sun had set. The puppy was awake so you held her up to show her the canvas and asked, “You think our ghost will like it?” 

She let out the tiniest, softest howl. 

“Yeah, I think so too.” 

You left to shower and have dinner. Then once it was time for bed you asked one of the staff members, “Does Bucky have some kind of an office?” 

She replied saying yes he does, and that she could show you where it was. You grabbed the not yet dry canvas and carefully carried it all the way to where Bucky’s office was. The lady again left you all by yourself to explore. 

At first you didn’t want to spend too much time in there. It was Bucky’s space after all. But then you thought, if he was comfortable walking into your bedroom at odd times during the night, why shouldn’t you check out his office? 

So you did. You left the canvas where it could dry without any problem and where Bucky would see it upon entering the room. Then you began exploring. The room was not what you were expecting for someone like Bucky. You thought it would be less… old school. 

He had a vintage looking typewriter on his desk for gods’ sake. Not one he used of course, but it added layers to his character you thought. Dark wooden furniture, comfortable looking chairs, more bookshelves filled with cloth-bound books. It was… cosy. 

So cosy in fact that you grabbed a book and made yourself comfortable on one of the chairs. You’d read for an hour or so then head off to bed, you thought. 

But soon, you drifted off to sleep. Right there. In Bucky’s office. 

-

You woke up and felt something soft and fluffy moving around on your lap. You opened your eyes and quickly realised you weren’t in bed. The room was dark. With very little light coming in from the outside. There were no curtains in this room, but also it was situated in an area of the mansion where very little moonlight came in.

Before you could panic though, a voice spoke up from not too far away, “You’ve been busy today, I see.” 

Ah, Bucky. And fuck. You’d fallen asleep in his office. 

You refused to feel embarrassed. So you asked, “Did you like your wedding gift?” 

“Yes.” He replied, and gauging by the sound you could tell he was sitting at his desk, in the darkest corner of the room. “I’ll hang it in my office.” 

You smiled in the dark, feeling a little proud of yourself. “And where’s my wedding gift?” 

“In your lap.” 

Fair. 

“What should we name her?” You asked, reaching to caress your puppy who let out an adorable grunt. “Hedone? Donnie, for short?” 

He let out a chuckle. “You are really leaning into this whole Eros-Psyche thing, huh?” 

You shrugged. “Well, I wouldn’t have to if you’d just show me your face. But you keep choosing not to, so deal with it.” 

A pause. Then he asked, “You like your new studio?” 

That made you sit up straighter. “I love it. Thank you.” Then you added, “My family always thought painting was a waste of time. They said it kept my head in the clouds too much. That it was… pointless.” 

He was quick to say, “It’s not. Besides, your hobbies don’t have to make sense to anyone else but yourself. And I’ve seen the other canvases you left in the studio. They’re good.” 

You turned to face the dark corner he was in. “You think?” 

“Yes,” He said. “We can hold an exhibition if you want. Let me know when you’re ready.” 

You let out a surprised chuckle. And when he didn’t laugh you realised he was serious. “Bucky, it's not so easy.” You explained calmly. “There’s so much work that goes into it, there needs to be some cohesion to the art pieces. There’s marketing, there’s research, there’s…” You exhaled, “There’s a lot of work to be done. Art exhibitions aren’t as easy or quick as you think it is.” 

He replied, “Leave all that to me. Just let me know when you want to hold one.” 

Just like that? 

“I… okay.” 

You felt warm in a way you’d never felt before. No one had ever taken your interests so seriously before. You’d never even been able to discuss this freely about your hobbies. And here Bucky was, ready to listen and interact with it. 

You got up to leave because this was… a lot to process. “Well then. Good night, Bucky.” 

A soft scoff. “Think I liked it more when you called me a ghost.” 

You smiled as you approached the door, puppy in hand and amazed at how well you were able to navigate in the dark. “Night, ghost.” 

He gave you a satisfied hum, then, “Good night, wife.” 

— 

It was bizarre to admit but you’d gotten used to those conversations in the dark with your husband. Days went by quickly given how engrossed you were with painting. Especially with the thought of a potential exhibition now in the back of your mind. Gods, that would be a dream. 

And while your days consisted of painting, playing and training your puppy, exploring more and more of the grounds and your new home, making quick trips to the stores to get more supplies, catching up with your friends who were still trying to grasp the fact that you got married so quickly, getting to know the household staff and the guards better, your night consisted of waiting and fighting your sleep until Bucky came to talk to you. 

It was always short conversations. Filled with easy banter and teasing tones, sarcastic comments and you asking each and every night if he was in the mood to show his face. Bucky always said no. And you always sent him off with a ‘good night, ghost’. 

You had gotten used to your ghost. As had your puppy. She would bark happily each time Bucky would enter your bedroom door at night. She’d run to him for playtime and cuddles as he sat in his dark corner and spoke with you until you fell asleep. 

Bucky would often leave you some kind of a note, for you to read in the morning. At the breakfast table, or in your studio. Sometimes he would leave compliments and comments on your dry canvases. Eventually, you stopped fighting the smiles which formed on your face as you read his notes. 

But all of it only made you want to see him more. Not that it would change anything. Bucky had quickly become… a friend, you’d say. A confidant if you will. He had become a habit. Part of your routine. 

And then one night, he didn’t come to see you. 

You waited. He usually came around midnight. It was well past 2 a.m. and he never came. 

At some point you went downstairs, pretending as if you just needed some water. One of the guards caught you trying to peek out into the driveway from the kitchen window. 

“Boss is not home yet, ma’am.” He said. 

You acted like you didn’t care. But still asked, “He does this often?” 

“Sometimes.” 

You nodded. You took your drink and with your puppy in your arms you walked back upstairs, passing by the many guards who were on duty inside the house at nighttime. 

“It’s alright, he’s probably just busy.” You whispered to the sleeping pup as you made your way up. “Or maybe he’s hurt and tending to his wounds somewhere else.” You felt a gentle pinch in your chest at the thought of Bucky hurt and alone out there. So you forced yourself to think of something else. Something way worse. “Or maybe he’s with someone else.” You scoffed, nuzzling the soft fur of your pup, “This marriage means nothing to him anyway. But that’s alright, we don’t need him. I’ve got you. We’ve got each other. Don’t we?” 

Safe to say, you went to bed slightly annoyed that night. And in denial too because you refused to admit that you missed him. 

– 

There was a note waiting for you in your studio the next morning. 

It read: ‘No I did not spend the night with someone else. I’ll explain later. See you tonight, wife.’ 

Huh. Looks like the guards have really good ears. 

Well, whatever. It’s not like you were impatiently waiting for night to come just so you could talk to your ghost of a husband. Right? 

Except you were though. So much that you couldn’t paint a decent thing. You were easily giving up on each canvas, and leaving a trail of unfinished work the more time went on. 

Eventually you sighed and left the studio. You tried reading but that wasn’t happening either. So you did the only thing you knew would take your mind off things. You asked the ladies to show you where everything was kept in the kitchen and you got to baking. 

Which you did until it was time for bed. Your mood was off, and it was all because of a faceless man. And that somehow annoyed you even more. 

You grabbed a plate of the mini muffins you’d made earlier and made your way upstairs. Your puppy had just gotten used to the stairs so she happily followed you everywhere you went now. 

You proceeded to sit in bed, and eat your muffins angrily and forced yourself to try to sleep. 

-

You woke up sometime later. And you just knew who was in the room with you. 

Except he wasn’t in his usual spot. 

He was standing by the windows which faced your bed this time, with his back to you. The curtains were pulled, the moonlight came and there was his dark silhouette. And… you frowned as you noticed the shiny metal arm. 

“You’re home.” You said. 

Bucky turned his head to the side, “I am.” He said. 

You took a second or two to admire the side profile. With the moonlight shining all around his silhouette he looked like a fallen angel of sorts. “You didn’t come home last night.” 

“I was out working,” He said. 

“Maiming and killing?” 

“You know me so well.” 

“Is that a… metal arm?” You questioned. 

“It is.”  

“Were you hurt?” 

“I was.” 

You sighed again. “Is it always going to be bland answers and mystery with you?” 

“Get used to it.” He said in that teasing tone. 

You got out of bed as quietly as you could. “I think I liked you better without the attitude, when you sat in the corner like a ghost.” You took some steps away from the bed, approaching the giant windows. The room was rather spacious so it would take some more steps to get close to him. If you’d only– 

“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re trying to do.” He warned, but remained in the same spot. 

You groaned. “Don’t you think this is getting tiring? I mean, I’m married to a man I’ve never seen before. In fact, no one has ever seen you. Why? What are you hiding?” You added, sounding defeated.  

Bucky lowered his head, which only accentuated how broad his shoulders really were. He sighed. “Do you know how much trouble could’ve been avoided if only Psyche trusted Eros?” 

You rolled your eyes. “I think she had her reasons. A mysterious, faceless lover who only shows up in the dark and hides in the shadows is bound to raise some doubts. Don’t you think so?” 

He chuckled. You blinked and he’d turned around to face you. But despite that, you couldn’t see his face at all. Even though he was inches away. 

He was quiet. Observing you with interest. The moonlight allowed him to see all of you, and he just… stared for a moment or two. A shiver ran down your back. An unfamiliar, but pleasant shiver. 

Without a word said, Bucky reached out and gently touched the thin strap of your silky night dress resting on your shoulder. His metal finger gliding along your skin and making you gasp at his cold touch. 

“What’s this?” He asked in his usual teasing tone. “Trying to tempt me with this excuse of a night dress, wife?” 

Fuck. Had his voice dropped lower? 

Fuck! He was so close to you. You didn’t even notice that your heart had begun racing. Your breaths had deepened. Shit. Why was this so hot?! 

“Are you? Tempted?” You asked with a steady voice, without thinking obviously. You just needed to say something so he wouldn’t notice the way you were basically panting after him like a thirsty dog. 

He chuckled. But remained quiet. 

So you said, “Thought so.” You sounded smug but you were feeling the complete opposite. 

Bucky scoffed in that arrogant way he often did. It was insane how easily you were able to pick up on his mannerism when you hadn’t even known him for that long. “Is that what you think? That I don’t want to sleep with you?” 

Oh. 

Oh this was bad. Because now your brain was making up hot, steamy scenes in your head. Scenes involving you and your faceless, mysterious husband in the dark. Entwining bodies on soft bed sheets. Fuck, you should paint that. No, what?  

“Then why haven’t you?” You found yourself asking. 

Okay then, bold as fuck it is. You’d gone past the point of no return now. Guess it was time for this conversation. 

Bucky’s fingers remained on your shoulder, tracing the thin strap there. And you couldn’t see it, but you could hear the smirk in his voice when he asked, “You want me to?” His metal hand dropped to your waist and before you could fully process it, he pulled you closer, leaned in to whisper into your ear, “You want my hands all over you, wife?” 

You could feel his slight stubble against your skin as he spoke. His lips brushing against your ear, making you gasp and tremble. Your hands found their way to his shoulders. And oh, he was pulling you even closer. Your chest pressing against his. The cool material of his suit felt amazing against your warm skin. 

“Look at you,” He cooed into your ear. “Is this what you want? Hmm?” He placed both his hands on your waist, pulling you into him. His lips moved lower, brushing against your neck as he spoke. “You like how rough my hands feel?” He moved his hands up and down your sides. “Do you know how many people I’ve hurt with these hands?” He chuckled when he heard the tiniest moan leave your mouth. “You’re so soft and warm, aren’t you worried what these hands might do to you?” 

He nuzzled your neck, hands roaming all over your sides and back and squeezing your butt. You became so pliant under his touch. Tilting your head back to allow him to kiss all over your neck, pressing your chest more and more against his like you couldn’t get enough. The layers of clothing, you wanted them gone. 

With a shaky voice you murmured, “I can’t tell if you’re trying to scare me or turn me on.” 

He laughed. And it was the best sound you’d ever heard. 

“You’re sick in that pretty head, huh?” He teased. “That beautiful brain is filled with filthy, dirty, dark thoughts, isn’t it?” His metal hand reached up and carefully wrapped around your throat. 

You gasped as he squeezed just a little bit. Those dirty thoughts he spoke about really started to fill your head. 

“Are you just all talk or–,” 

He cut you off by dragging you all the way to your bed, still holding you by the throat. 

The back of your knees hit the edge of the bed and he gave you a slight push, ending with you falling onto your bed on your back. You looked up at him, hovering above you, his lower body pressing into yours. 

“Do you just run that mouth?,” He asked, supporting himself with one hand while the metal one remained wrapped around your throat, his voice low and menacing but in a way that made your legs part on their own so his hips settled in between them. Your bodies fit together like the most perfect puzzle pieces. “Or do you know how to take it like a brat as well?” 

You felt the need to let him know then. “I don’t know,” You said, sounding both breathless and bratty. “I’ve never had to take it.” 

He paused for a moment. Then asked in subtle surprise, “What do you mean?” Even his grip around your throat loosened completely. 

You squirmed in slight embarrassment but that only caused your hips to grind against his and for a moment there both of you let out a strained moan. Fuck. The tension between the two of you was almost physical now. Even in the dark, even with Bucky being nothing more than just a shadow above you. 

“I, uh…” You cleared your throat, still feeling his cold fingers all over your skin, “I’ve never been with anyone before.” 

He was quiet. As if thinking. You tried your hardest but you couldn’t see any of his facial features. You knew he had a slight stubble because you’d felt it earlier. But aside from that, you knew nothing. Not even his eye colour. 

“You want us to stop?” He asked, shifting his body slightly as if he was ready to pull away if you asked him to. 

“No,” You answered way too quickly. Then you got bold again and let your hands find their way back to his shoulders. You pulled him down, closer to you just a little and said, “This is okay.” 

His fingers moved up, from your neck to your mouth. “Yeah? You want this, huh?” He mumbled, tracing your mouth with his fingers. You shivered under his touch. “You’ve been a whiny little brat lately, haven’t you, wife? Pouting and all just because I wouldn’t show myself to you.” He whispered, leaning in to just brush his lips against yours. You gasped at the sensation of his soft lips rubbing against yours. Bucky chuckled at your reaction. “Don’t think my staff doesn’t report back to me. I’ve been well aware of all the times you asked the ladies to give you details about me.” 

Now that made you squirm in embarrassment. Still you said, sounding a little annoyed at being caught. “Can you blame me?”

“Can’t you just trust me?” He argued. 

The danger and authority in his tone had your thighs clenching together to try and alleviate the torturous pain in between your legs. You were almost certain you had never been this turned on and annoyed at the same damn time before. You sighed in frustration. “This isn’t fair.” 

“No, it isn’t,” He said, pulling away and began undressing you to your pleasant surprise. “Deal with it.” 

Oh fuck. 

Fuck… You had to hold back from whimpering each time his hands rubbed against your skin. He took his time in sliding the straps of your night dress down your shoulders, dragging the silky fabric down your body, leaving you more and more naked under him. 

You shivered once he left your night dress bunched around your waist carelessly. It wasn’t just because of the slightly cold air. It was because even though you couldn’t see him, you could tell he was staring right at you. 

You spoke in a hushed voice, not daring to speak loud in fear that it might break whatever spell you were under. “So you get to see me naked all you want, but I can’t see your face?” 

He chuckled. “You want me to leave this room right now? Leave you here all wet and squirming? Or do you want me to take care of it and make you come? Huh?” 

That shut you up really quickly. 

“I thought so.” He sounded smug again when he said that. “I should spank you for the brat you are. But since it’s your first time… I’ll be nice.” 

His hands touched you everywhere, your thighs, your stomach, your sides, your chest, your neck… everywhere. He left you gasping and trembling under him. 

“Please.” You caught yourself whispering. 

Bucky leaned down, his soft mouth brushing against your cheek as he said, “Please what?” 

You squirmed, “Touch me, please.” 

He chuckled. You felt his warm breath against your skin as he kissed his way down your naked body. “Look at you,” He murmured, lips brushing against your stomach, “You’re so eager already.” 

You heard the faint chuckle which left his mouth the moment he noticed your legs spread apart for him naturally. Your face felt like it was burning but fuck, you were too turned on to even be properly embarrassed. Also, being in complete darkness helped. 

Damn. You were really getting intimate with your husband whom you hadn’t even seen yet. And somehow that fact was making you want this even more. 

But that mystery stopped being an issue the moment Bucky leaned in and kissed your wet folds, his tongue slowly circling around your throbbing clit and licking down, parting your wet folds with ease.

He poked at your entrance with his tongue and your body felt hotter than before. Back arching off the bed as you let out a soft moan at the foreign feeling. Fuck he felt good. You whimpered as you felt his tongue stroke your most sensitive parts. Your immediate reaction was to pull your hips back from the overwhelmingly good sensation his mouth was causing. And that made him grip your thighs tighter, keeping them pinned to the bed. 

“Stop moving.” He ordered and the authority in his voice made you tremble. 

You whined as you felt his strong arms wrapped around your thighs, keeping you in place and close to his mouth. The metal hand on your warm skin made you shiver and tremble so much that you were thankful for the darkness. 

The small amount of moonlight which came in allowed you to only see the silhouette of his broad shoulders, and his head moving slowly, sensually in between your legs. Fuck… somehow the mystery only made it hotter.

Oh you were fucked in the head for real. 

And oh, Bucky was a fucking tease. Once he noticed how easily you cried out and moaned for him, he slowed down and began kissing around your clit just to purposely mess with you. He kissed your thighs, purposely avoiding touching where he knew you needed him the most. He kissed down all the way to your core, and gently bit your skin around your inner thighs. 

“Bucky, please!” You cried out, hand reaching for his hair. When you managed to grab a fistful of his soft hair, you gave it a gentle tug. “Stop teasing me.” 

“You don’t get to give me orders, wife.” He said, sounding all proud and mighty. “I could just walk out of here and leave you like this. Naked and squirming.” 

“Please,” You begged again. You could feel your arousal trickling out of you. 

A scoff. Then he leaned in again. You whined and whimpered under him, with your legs wrapped around his head. Fingers in his hair, massaging his scalp instinctively as he flicked, and sucked, and teasing your clit as much as he could. 

“You’ve been a brat because you wanted your husband’s attention so badly, huh?” He taunted. “Is that what you wanted? Just my attention?” He chuckled. “You’re as calm as a happy kitten now, aren’t you?” 

His stubble rubbed against your sensitive skin, and the friction burned a little but it was the kind of pain you kept wanting more of. You wanted more of him. 

“Fuck, your mouth feels so good,” You murmured, throwing your head back, moaning as he kept teasing your entrance with the tip of his tongue. 

“Come for me, wife.” His hands wrapped around your thighs, securing you in his grip as he pushed his face further into you, making you cry out loud. 

You couldn’t even hold on for much longer, and ended up coming undone all over his tongue. Heart racing, legs trembling in his grip as you came. Your moans were soft and incessant. 

Fuck… that felt amazing. 

You had barely gotten your heart to stop racing, and Bucky was already standing up and in the dark you couldn’t see very well but it did look like he was moving away from the bed. 

“You’re leaving?” You asked, unable to stop yourself from sounding a little upset at his departure. 

All he said was, “Good night, wife. See you tomorrow.” 

You scoffed after he shut the door behind him, leaving you in darkness yet again. “Ghost.” 

— 

That night ended up being the first of many. 

Your days consisted of painting, and finally finding a flow in most of your pieces. Perhaps if you’re able to make a decent collection, you could start thinking about the exhibition seriously, you thought. When you weren’t painting you were either training your rapidly growing puppy, or baking. You’d begun taking your puppy out for walks around the mansion, consequently doing some more exploring of the grounds. 

After all that, each night you’d get in bed and wait for Bucky. It became part of your routine. And each night with him was different. He’d spend his time touching you slowly until you were purring for him like a kitten. Kissing you all over your body in the dark. Making you come all over his tongue and fingers. Kissing you until you moaned and pulled him closer just to feel his weight pressing down on you. 

But he would always leave after making you come. And you two never actually fucked. Neither would he let you make him come. 

On nights when he wouldn’t make it home, you’d worry yourself to sleep. But then each morning you’d find a note from him either in your studio or the breakfast table. He would always say some cheesy shit. And he would always promise to come see you later that night. 

On nights when you two didn’t engage in anything sexual, it was still just as fulfilling. Bucky would tell you things about his work, his past, his family. You learnt that he was over a decade older than you, and teased him about being an old man until he pinned you to the bed and tickled you until you couldn’t breathe. 

You learnt that he liked to keep to himself and stay as far away from his family as possible. He liked peace and quiet, which would explain his lovely home being here away from most people. 

The more you learned about him, the easier it was to grow fond of him. But the more you grew fond of him, the greedier you got. You wanted more. More of his time, his touch, his attention, and most of all, you wanted to see him. 

The mystery, while hot as fuck, was killing you. 

—

One night, things changed. 

Bucky came into your room as usual. He’d gotten bolder lately, he wouldn’t sit in the corner like a ghost anymore, instead he would find his way to your bed and only leave that bed after making you come hard. 

Tonight started out the same way.  

You felt his hands all over you as he pulled you closer to him under the covers. You giggled as he bit and licked that one sensitive spot on your neck. Your fingers had a habit of finding themselves in his hair. It was insane how easily you’d gotten used to being with him in the dark. How easily you could find his mouth with your own. How easily you’d find your way into his arms. 

It was weirdly comforting. His warmth, his voice, his touch. 

“Tell me about your day,” He murmured, kissing your neck while his hands grabbed you and caressed you wherever he could reach. 

You squealed when you felt his metal fingers wandering dangerously close to your clit. Then said, “It went pretty well. I went out to buy some supplies, made a new friend at the store, I went to see my father but he wasn’t home. I took our dog for a walk, I painted…,” You gasped when his mouth trailed down till he took a nipple into his warm mouth, while he slid two fingers inside you gently. “Oh fuck…” You whined. 

He kissed his way up to your mouth again and said, “You sound so good when you moan for me, wife.” His lips brushed against yours. 

He was so close. And it was dark. And you wanted so desperately to see him. 

He moved his fingers expertly in and out of you. Making sure to brush against your most sensitive spots each time, turning you into a whimpering mess under him. He gave you a gentle kiss, swallowing your moans as he brought you closer to the edge. 

You whimpered and whined, then in the moment you just blurted out, “Can I please see you now?” 

Bucky stopped. He pulled away from you, making you whimper again as he got up and got out of your bed. 

In the dark it took a while for you to figure out where he was, whether he was still nearby or already making his way out the door. But he was here, standing near the bed. 

“We talked about this.” He said, sounding grave and disappointed. 

“But it’s been so long.” You argued. “I trust you.” 

He let out a loud exhale and said, “Then trust me when I say, it’s better this way.” 

You let out a sigh. “You can’t keep me in the dark forever, Bucky. Literally!” 

“Yes I can. I will.” He said arrogantly. That tone of his bothered you. “It’s better this way.” He repeated, but it sounded a lot like he was trying to convince himself instead of you. 

“Oh screw you!” You said with enough bitterness to make a grown man flinch. “If you won’t let me see you then stop coming into my bedroom. I don’t want to see you unless you agree to let go of this weird persona.” 

“Fine.” 

—

That night was the last time you heard from Bucky. 

He didn’t come home the following day. Nor the one after that. 

And no one knew where he went. 

You could tell something was wrong when you began noticing that the guards were talking in hushed voices whenever you were around. You noticed that the amount of security around the house doubled. That’s when you began to worry. 

By the third night, the entire house was filled with this almost tangible tension, worry, and fear. The house staff wouldn’t talk to you as much. The guards were always in and out of the house. The head of security advised you to not wander too far away from the house while you roam the grounds. 

You noticed the guards would follow you whenever you left the property. Be it when you left to visit your father at your old house or when you went out to buy supplies. 

Then you worried some more. But no one had answers to your questions. Nobody knew where he went. Whether he’s away for an assignment or if he’s simply choosing to be away from home. 

You tried your hardest to pretend that you didn’t care. You were still a little angry. After all, why couldn’t you see what he looked like? You’d spend so much time with him in the dark, running your hands all over him, tracing the outline of his facial features, he never had an issue with that. But why couldn’t you see him? 

You were angry, but also very much worried by the fourth day. You missed him, you realised. He had become such a habit, such a constant in your days. His sarcastic humour, his gentle hands, his comforting embrace, the way he left you notes in the morning, the way he took your art seriously. 

Fuck. You sat up in bed one night, patting ‘his’ side of the bed softly. You missed him. Badly. You felt a pinch inside your chest which you had never felt before. It hurt. You wanted him home. You admitted to yourself with a painful sigh. 

“Where are you?” You whispered, looking at the dark corner of your bedroom where he used to sit in silence like a ghost. “It’s okay if you want to stay in the dark forever.” You looked around the dark room which now without him seemed so much bigger and empty, “Just come home.” 

—

The next morning, as you half-heartedly approached the kitchen, you overheard something. And quickly realised you shouldn’t have heard it. It was the two ladies talking in hushed tones, the ones who usually served you your meals and often kept you company while you baked. 

“...cannot tell her, she’ll be heartbroken.” One of them said gravely. 

Sudden panic made your body freeze. You pressed your back against the nearest wall to keep yourself hidden while you processed those cryptic words. No, no, no. Is he hurt? Do they know something you don’t? 

The other replied, “But she deserves to know. Even if it’s not confirmed yet. I mean, do you see how she smiles when she reads his notes? Clearly she had grown to care for him. She needs to know.” 

The other argued, “I know, but I cannot imagine how hurt she will be when she hears about the rumours that her own father kidnapped her husband due to some past rivalry which was supposedly laid to rest after their wedding.” 

“They’ve been looking for him for days now. It’s been too long, he should’ve been found by now.” 

Fuck. Fuck. FUCK! 

No. This cannot be happening. 

You carefully walked away from the kitchen. Thinking, processing, analysing. 

If your father did it, it must’ve been for some shitty, arrogant reason. He probably just wanted to rub it in Bucky’s family’s face that he could still eliminate his biggest threat if he wanted to. To show that he could still get rid of them by holding their most precious weapon hostage. To toy with them by making them wait in anticipation. Your father had done it before. Not with Bucky, but other people. He usually never asked for ransom but he liked having his rivals beg him for mercy. 

Shit. He’s had Bucky for days now. 

You moved without thinking twice about it. For some reason, your brain knew exactly what to do even though your heart was still bothered by a multitude of emotions. It felt like you were on autopilot. 

You rushed into Bucky’s office and grabbed a handgun from his desk drawer, checked if it was loaded. It was. You knew Bucky kept it there for safety, he had told you that one time when you two were in bed together. 

You let out a frustrated sigh, then felt movement around your ankles. You looked down at your puppy and gave her a sad smile as you bent down to pet her. “I’m gonna go find daddy, okay? I’ll be home soon.” You left her with a kiss. 

You rushed back downstairs and found a group of armed guards in the foyer near the front door. You didn’t have the time to explain it all to them, especially since you were driven by a gut feeling. Instead you asked, “Do you guys have a way of tracking my phone, or my car?” 

One of them nodded. The rest frowned in confusion. 

You tried to keep your calm as much as you could even though your heart was racing. “Okay, I’m gonna go to my father’s house. Don’t follow me yet, but I need some of you to come find me as soon as I begin driving away from there.” 

Surprisingly, they just nodded and let you go. 

The whole time you drove to your father’s house, it felt you were constantly having to force yourself to keep calm. After four days of having no idea where he was, and now as all the puzzle pieces fit together, it was hard to remain calm. You just wanted to get to him. 

And while you drove, unanswered questions tormented you. 

Was he hurt? Where was he being kept? Was he beaten up? Was he even conscious? Would this end badly? How far would your father take this? Would he hurt him? 

Before you knew it, you were entering your father’s property. The guards let you in like they always did. You had to take a minute to breathe in your car before stepping out and going inside your old home. 

Luckily your father was home. 

You walked in and stopped in the middle of the foyer as you saw him making his way down the stairs. He slowed down when he noticed the glare you sent his way. And when he stopped in the middle of the grand staircase, with you still glaring at him, the guards who were scattered around the entrance noticed. You caught the way they silently got closer and closer, slowly reaching for their guns. 

Good thing you’d brought your own. 

The guards, as well as your father, froze in place the moment you pulled out Bucky’s gun and pointed it at the man responsible for all of this shit. No one made a single sound. No guard moved to even try to disarm you. 

You looked at your hand, which was surprisingly steady as it held the gun. And there, on the side of the shiny metal, you spotted Bucky’s initials. Your heart throbbed in a painful way, but you refused to be emotional right now, even though you needed a good cry after having bottled up your feelings for the last few days. 

You glared at your father, who was still shocked, and asked in a cold tone you’d never used before, “Where’s my husband?” 

Your father frowned. “What do you think you’re doing?” 

You repeated, “Where is he?” 

Your father scoffed, “You’ll shoot your own father? Is this how I raised you?” 

“And you’ll kidnap your own son-in-law? For what? To show that you’re still the shit?” You questioned in a slightly raised voice. 

He sighed like he was disappointed, “You don’t know what–,” 

You cut him off. “We had a deal, right? That these petty attacks would stop after the wedding? That’s why I got married, isn’t it? Because we’re supposed to keep family safe?” 

He was quiet for a moment. Then began talking again, “If I could just get them to–,” 

“Enough!” You sounded just as tired of his bullshit as you were. “Whatever plan you have, just stop!” Then it came spilling out of your mouth, “You were supposed to protect me. All of us,” You said, referring to your older siblings, “Instead you married each of us off in exchange for whatever or whoever was going to benefit you more.” 

He argued, “If this works, you can come back home. Don’t you want that?” 

“No,” You said, and realised you meant it. “This was never home.” You admitted. “He treats me better than my own family ever did. He doesn’t tell me that my art is a waste of time. He doesn’t keep me imprisoned inside his home. He doesn’t choose who I should mingle with and who I shouldn’t. He doesn’t force me to join family businesses because it’ll be good for his image.” You taunted your father. “And he’ll never sell me to the highest bidder.” 

Your father made a sound like he was disgusted. “Don’t tell me you’ve fallen in love with him?” 

You remained quiet. I care for him, you wanted to say, deeply. But that would be lying, wouldn’t it? Truth was… you did fall for him. His calm voice. His gentle but playful demeanour. His dark humour. His brilliant mind and sharp tongue, always ready to argue and debate. His gentle touch… you loved him. 

“What I do and who I care for is none of your concern anymore.” You concluded, stepping forward and keeping the gun aimed at his face. “Now, where is my husband?” 

The smirk on your father’s face was maddening. “You’ll never find him,” He said. “I’ve hidden him well.” He added.  

You gave him a smirk as well. One which mirrored his. 

“Oh don’t make me do this.” You cooed. “Did you forget all those times you got drunk and confessed all the bad things you did?” You began listing, “All those times you spilled all your little secrets. About our family businesses, about your allies, the lies and betrayal. The bodies that are buried on this very property. The skeletons in your closet.” You gave him a sick, sweet smile. “Imagine if all that information just magically ends up in the ears of your rivals, dad. Imagine the carnage.” 

His smirk disappeared. “You would betray me by siding with them?” He asked in disbelief. 

You were getting tired of this. So you lowered your gun and said, “I am one of them.” 

You walked out without a single glance back at your father, but you could tell he had his jaws clenched in anger. He hated being outsmarted. But his mistake was underestimating you. 

And as for Bucky’s location, well your father gave it away when he said ‘I’ve hidden him well.’ 

There was only one place he believed you knew nothing about since at the time that he told you about it, he was drunk out of his mind as he confessed more of his crimes: the rundown warehouse which he used as a hideout/storage for weapons and arms. 

Your father had always referred to Bucky being a ‘weapon’ so it was only fitting that he would think to hide him there. Thinking no one would find him. 

But you would. 

As you drove to the warehouse, you hoped that the guards were tracking you as you had instructed them to. Because if Bucky was truly there, there was a high chance that there would be some guards, and that Bucky must be injured. And you’d need help getting him out of there. 

Driving to the warehouse, you had silent tears streaming down your face. Not just out of sadness, but also frustration. Fuck, what had your life become? 

The warehouse was a disaster, you realised as you approached it. Large, crumbling, windows boarded up with rotting wood, broken machinery scattered around the outside. It looked like it had been abandoned for decades. And it was exactly the type of structure no one would bother to look twice at. The perfect place to hide illegal things, and son-in-laws you hate. 

There weren’t as many guards as you expected. Which would mean that Bucky was either chained and locked up like an animal, or that he was injured to the point where he was too weak to fight his way out of here. 

Or both. 

You shivered as you got out of your car. The few guards who were around noticed you and one of them began walking faster towards you the more you got closer to the entrance. 

“Miss, you can’t be here. Your father explicitly said no one is allowed–,” 

You scoffed and said, “Oh, I know what he said.” You kept walking. “What will you do? Shoot me?” 

“Miss,” He tried again, “I can’t let you–,” 

You turned towards him and placed the barrel of Bucky’s gun right under the guard’s chin. “You were saying?” 

Then you heard it. A fleet of cars approaching. The guards heard it too. You heard them yelling at one another while the one in front of you remained frozen in place. You smirked at him and said, “Now go play with them.” 

You had just enough time to duck and run inside before the gunshots began. You didn’t stop. The interior of the warehouse was just as dilapidated as the outside, and by the sound of it, there were quite some guards on the roof. Their heavy footsteps as they ran to duck and try to escape the bullets raining down on them echoed inside the empty warehouse. 

It was fairly easy to spot Bucky. But fuck was it painful to see him that way. 

He was chained to the wall, shackles around his wrists and ankles. His body slumped on the ground, his breaths ragged. You could tell he was tired. Perhaps tired of fighting against the chains. You couldn’t hold back your soft sob as you ran to him. 

They had left his muzzle-like mask on him, covering the lower half of his face. The leather jacket and gloves he wore were covered in blood and dirt. A lot of blood. You knelt down in front of him and that’s when you noticed the bullet wound on his thigh. It looked fresh. 

“Bucky?” You called, reaching a hand to touch his face. He was cold to the touch, but stirred at the sound of your voice. “Bucky, come on. Wake up. Please.” You sniffled and inched closer to him, “I’m here, I’m gonna get us out of here, okay?” 

He let out a weak cough. You could barely hear it over the sound of the gunshots outside. 

“Bucky,” You tried to get the chains and shackles off of him, “Come on, wake up. We need to go home.” Your own voice cracked as you felt the silent tears streaming down your face as you were unable to get the shackles off. “Please,” You begged. 

Then as the gunshots outside faded away, you heard Bucky’s faint voice saying, “Use the gun.” 

You turned to face him. “What?” 

He spoke again, his voice raspier than usual and sounding muffled due to the mask. “Shoot at the chains.” 

Your hands trembled just a little as you reached for the gun you had brought. His gun. And you said, “Okay, don’t move.” 

You did. And only missed twice. 

Breaking the chains left the shackles still around his wrists and ankles but that could be dealt with later. You were panicking, wondering how you’d get him out of here but the guards barged in just in time. And you let out a sigh of relief when they ran straight to Bucky and carefully picked him up. 

As a couple of them managed to get Bucky in the backseat of your car, one of them let you know that there was a doctor and his assistants already waiting at home to tend to Bucky. Another one asked you what to do regarding the warehouse. 

“Burn it.” You told him. “I’ll deal with my father later, right now we need to get Bucky home.” 

On the drive home, Bucky kept trying to talk. But he was so weak he could barely get full sentences out. 

“Weren’t you mad at me?” He asked.

You sniffled and said refused to answer that. Instead you said, “Try not to talk. You’ve been shot, we don’t know how much blood you’ve lost,” You rambled. “Let’s get you to the doctor, okay?”  

“S’okay,” He mumbled, “It went through.” 

That only hurt more. “Bucky please, you need to save energy, okay? We’re almost home.” 

“They… shot me with my own gun.” He refused to keep quiet. 

At first you thought his brain was being delirious and making him ramble. Because of the pain, exhaustion, thirst, hunger. But then a weak sound left his mouth. Still muffled by the mask because no one removed it, and it sounded a lot like a very weak, faint laugh. 

“Eros got pierced by his own arrow after all.” He mumbled. 

You held back a sob. Then muttered, “I hate you so much, Bucky Barnes.” 

Another weak laugh. “No, you don’t, wife.” 

Then he passed out cold. 

— 

The next few days which followed Bucky’s rescue went by so fast and so painfully. The medical team kept close watch on him for days. Bucky was in and out of consciousness a lot. All the meds and the exhaustion kept him constantly out cold. 

The nurses and the house staff were constantly around him. But for some reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to go into his room. Not yet. You’d linger near the door and the doctors and the staff would constantly update you about his condition, but you never went in. 

Mainly it was because of shame. At what your father had done to him. But also you were still making peace with and processing your own emotions and you couldn’t face him until you were fully ready. What was important was that he was rescued and safe in his home. 

About a week later, the medical team finally left. And promised they would do frequent check ups and told you that Bucky needed a lot of rest. 

And that night, you managed to find the courage to finally step inside Bucky’s bedroom. It was a lot like yours, just larger. The room was dark when you walked in. But the open curtains allowed some light in from the outside. 

Okay. You spoke to yourself as you approached Bucky’s bed. It’s high time you find out who you married. 

Your hands shook a little as you reached for the dim lamp on his bedside table. But you turned it on quickly before you could talk yourself out of it. 

The golden light illuminated the room partly, and there he was. A little bruised, with a cut on his lip. His handsome face made you smile and tear up at the same time. You couldn’t hold back from reaching to touch his face softly, carefully. You ran your knuckles along his cheek and whispered, “There you are, ghost.” 

He stirred. And soon, a pair of sparkling blue eyes look up at you. For a moment you panicked, wondering if he would be upset. But instead he said, “This is cheating.” 

You let out a soft laugh and asked, “How are you feeling? You’ve been asleep for days.” 

“I feel like beating your father up.” He mumbled. 

“Oh, same.” You agreed. Then added, “I’m so sorry for what he did to you.” 

Over the past few days, the guards had gathered what had truly happened the day Bucky went missing. Turns out, he did leave for an assignment but your father and his men had been keeping a close eye on him for days, and since the wedding was supposed to have ended all rivalry, Bucky had his guard down as he entered your father’s territory. And your father had the upper hand for once and took advantage of it. Bucky was cornered, outnumbered and taken. He was kept in that warehouse up until you found him. 

“Don’t be,” Bucky whispered, reaching for your hand on your lap. He gave your hand a soft squeeze and said, “You saved me.” 

You couldn’t look away from Bucky. It felt so intimate to finally be able to see his face. Then rather sheepishly, you asked, “Can I sleep here? I’ll be careful.” He was still injured and in pain, but you just wanted to be close to him. You needed to. 

He smirked, “Come on.” You walked to the other side of the bed and slid under the covers, keeping some distance between you and him. He turned to look at you and said, “Want me to leave the light on?” 

You nodded. And he did. 

— 

A lot changed after that. 

Bucky was healing from his injury and was starting to walk again. Which meant that he was home a lot. He did ‘work’ but it mainly consisted of him ordering people around on the phone. 

Him being at home meant that he followed you around as much as he physically could. He would spend time in your studio, sometimes he’d stay for hours and watch you finish your pieces. He also spent a lot more time with your dog, taking her on short walks and teaching her new tricks. 

He’d stay with you in the kitchen while you baked. He’d go with you whenever you went shopping for supplies. Bucky became your shadow. And consequently, spending this much together made you feel closer than ever to him. 

He became your best friend. 

He also became a lot more… bold. 

—

One night Bucky found you in his bathroom. After that night when you first slept in his bed, you hadn’t gone back to your bedroom. So now, most of your things slowly found their way into his space. Like your night time skin care products. 

Bucky crept up behind you and wrapped his arms around you. 

You met his eyes through the mirror and gave him a smile. “Your limp is nearly gone.” You announced, noticing the way he walked was so much better now. 

He gave you a look which meant nothing but mischief, “And you know what that means?” 

You could already tell where this was going. You immediately turned him down. “Bucky, we cannot. You’re still injured.” 

“But it’s been weeks.” He said it like it was the ultimate torture. “Don’t you miss those nights we spent together? Hmm?” He whispered, leaning in to kiss your neck. He knew it was one of your weaknesses. “Remember how good it feels when I make you come?” 

You sighed, letting him kiss you and hold you for a moment. “Buck… you’re still healing.” 

“Come on, baby,” He cooed, nuzzling your neck, “I’ll make it so good. I promise I’ll tell you if it hurts.” 

You almost gave in the moment he playfully bit your neck, his hands finding the belt of your robe and shamelessly undoing it before sliding in to touch your warm skin. “But,” You tried to find something even though all you wanted was to drag him to bed, “Your stitches…” Your words ended in a soft moan as his metal fingers found their way in between your legs, circling around your clit. 

Bucky growled. Growled. Then said, “Fine, you get to be on top then.” 

You froze, and let out a nervous chuckle. “But I…,” You opened your eyes and met his through the mirror. “I–,” 

“Shh, it’s okay.” He reassured you, remembering the time you told him you’d never done anything with anyone before. “I know.” He gave you a sweet kiss on the cheek. “I’ll teach you.” 

And he did. Patiently. 

He took his time in undressing both of you and held your hand in his as he laid down and pulled you on top of him. 

“I’m scared I’ll hurt you.” You murmured. 

He gave you a reassuring smile. “You won’t, baby. Now come on.” 

He watched as you carefully straddled him, settling comfortably around his waist. One hand holding his metal one tightly while the other remained splayed over his chest. 

Bucky looked up at you with nothing but adoration and lust as he tugged on your hand, pulling you in for a kiss. You leaned down gently and pressed your mouth to his. His warm hand immediately rubbed up and down your side lovingly. He pulled away just a little and whispered against your mouth, “We’ll do whatever you’re comfortable with, okay?” 

You nodded, already breathless. 

“Tell me, baby. What do you want?” 

You told him the one thing you desperately wanted. “I want to touch you.” 

Bucky smirked and supported his upper body up on his elbows, with you still straddling his waist, your core pressing down on his crotch. “Go on then, touch me.” He murmured. 

He watched you intently as you reached out and touched his face first. Bucky’s heart was racing, you could tell by the way he breathed, as your finger slowly trailed down his face, along his neck and down till his abs, so slowly that you could feel his muscles tensing underneath your touch. 

You gave him a teasing smile when you noticed the effect you have on him, and how he couldn’t help but stare at your naked body. 

“Don’t tease me,” He mumbled. 

You chuckled and leaned in to give him a brief kiss before hesitantly wrapping your hand around his cock. Part of the reason why you kissed him while doing it was because you were worried about your lack of experience, so you did it to distract him. 

But he caught it. And wrapped his own hand around yours, making you grip him tighter. You pulled away from the kiss and looked into his pretty eyes. Bucky was breathing heavily. You let his hand guide you as you gave him an experimental stroke, a gentle up and down movement. 

He felt thick and hard, and big. You looked down for a quick minute as you let him continue guiding your hand, lazily stroking his cock, up and down. Your thumb rubbed his tip slowly, making him groan as you looked back up at him and kissed your way down his neck, around the base of his throat, making him gasp in pleasure. 

“See?” He whispered, “You’re learning already.” He said as he slowly let go of your hand and let you touch him on your own. 

You continued exploring this new feeling. He was completely fine with just being there and letting you take your time. And you did take your time, touching him everywhere you could, stroking him as slowly or as quickly as you wanted to. Until he was so close to the edge, eyes rolled to the back of his head, lips parted and occasional moans escaping his open mouth as  pre cum started dripping down his cock. 

Oh he was a sight to behold. But you were getting impatient, and you wanted him in you as soon as possible. So you stopped, earning a groan from him. 

“I want you,” You said. 

Bucky looked like he was barely able to hold back either. “Come on,” He held your hand again, pulled you in for a quick kiss as you straddled him properly. His hand reached down and aligned the tip of his cock to your hole, teasing you with it by sliding it up and down your slit a few times until you were whimpering. “Now sit on it baby come on,” He encouraged you as you began sinking down on him, gasping as his cock stretched you out. “You can do it.” He murmured, breathless as he watched his cock disappear inside you more and more. “That's it. All the way down, come on baby.” 

You were a moaning mess by the time you sunk all the way down, impaling yourself down on his cock. Fuck. You had never felt so full before. So fucking full. 

“You okay, baby?” He asked, holding you by your hips, moving you back and forth just a little bit to create some friction. 

You nodded, moaning at the slight movement. 

“Want me to help you move?” He asked, lips parted and he had that wild look in his eyes.

Fuck, he was beautiful. 

“Yes, please,” You whined, placing your hands on his chest to brace yourself for what was coming. 

He wasted no time. Bucky grabbed you by the hips and helped you move up and down his cock. Your wet warmth wrapped all around him, making him swear under his breath and groan at how good you felt. 

You couldn’t look away from his ocean blue eyes while you rocked your hips against his. You moved against him perfectly, your walls gripping him tightly and feeling him twitch inside you. 

“Look at you.” He cooed. “Look how well you're taking it.” 

You couldn’t help but lean in to kiss his open mouth. He was so perfect. He was everything you had ever dreamt of, you realised. 

His metal fingers moved to touch your clit while you rode his cock, teasing you and bringing you closer to that edge. It wouldn’t take much. You were so overwhelmed already. 

“Bucky…” You whined, dragging your hands down and pressing both your palms against his toned abdomen, carefully avoiding touching him around his thigh area, where he was shot. 

Bucky watched you, your breasts bouncing gently, lips parted, softly gasping as you got so, so close to the edge. 

And he knew. So he quickened his pace, still moving you up and down his cock while he rubbed your throbbing clit. 

“Baby, I’m gonna need you to come for me, okay?” His voice was low, barely even a whisper. His desperation was quite clear. He began to thrust his hips up even harder, matching your movements.

The air around you got hotter, and that look in his eyes made you want to live in this moment forever. Bucky was the most beautiful mess you’d ever seen. A sweaty, moaning mess under you, messy hair, swollen lips, and a throbbing cock. 

You were sure you looked like a mess too as you felt your walls clench around him, gripping him and milking him perfectly. 

“Come for me,” He whispered, “Come on, baby.” 

You came without a warning, crying out loud and impaling yourself down on him one last time as you did. Bucky thrust up into you one last time and came undone as well, both of you breathing hard and fast. 

You carefully got up from his lap and laid down beside him, body limp and slightly sore in between your legs. 

You were still catching your breath as you asked, “Did I hurt you?” You sounded just as worried as you were. 

Bucky chuckled. “I should be the one asking you that.” 

You smiled and snuggled into his side, he wrapped an arm around you and pulled you closer. 

“I’m fine, baby.” He said and kissed your forehead. 

You both laid there in silence for a while. 

Cuddling and relishing each other’s warmth, caressing each other’s skin. 

You felt his fingers drawing random shapes on your back as you laid your head on his chest, feeling his steady heartbeats against your cheek. You felt the need to ask him, “Why were you so against showing yourself to me?” 

He gave you a soft chuckle. “You just can’t let that go, huh?” 

“Nope.” 

He sighed, pulling you closer. “I was… afraid.” 

You frowned. “Afraid of what?” You pulled away and looked up at him. “Why did you hide this pretty face from me?” You gave him a quick kiss on his chest as you waited for his answer. 

He sighed again. “Everywhere I go, I… whenever people see me up close, it’s already too late. They don’t see a human anymore, they see death staring back at them.” He paused. You remained quiet. He continued. “I see it, you know? In their eyes. When they look at me and plead, or beg, or curse me.” A humourless laugh, then, “After some years of that, I began seeing it in the mirror as well. I saw the same thing they see. After years of brutality, and killing, and spilling blood,” A soft chuckle, “Years of being an evil Eros as you call it, I grew to hate my face.” 

You felt tears forming at your waterline but you couldn’t look away from him. Not when he was being so brave and vulnerable. 

He continued. “And then before our wedding, I looked you up.” He confessed, a little embarrassed. “And you were so beautiful.” He looked you right in the eyes and repeated, “You are so beautiful. I guess, I didn’t want you to look at me and see death, and ugly and all the other dark stuff. I didn’t want to see that look in your eyes, the same one I see in everyone. That look of fear and disgust.” He finally admitted, “So I thought, I’d just hide and be a ghost.” 

“My ghost.” You corrected him, reaching out to cup his chin in your palm. “And I’m gonna need you to never stop haunting me.” You said, leaning in to leave a soft kiss on his lips. “I want you to always be in the shadows. Be with me, even in the dark.” You gave him a smile. “I look at you now and you know what I see? I see a man who treated me with respect. A man who wouldn’t touch me unless I asked for it. A man who gave me so much space for my creativity.” A faint smile, then you added, “You made me fall in love with art all over again, and now everything I paint, I paint with you in my mind.” 

He gave you a smile which both broke and mended your heart. 

“Oh Buck,” You cupped his gorgeous face with both hands and said, “You’re not death, or scary, or any other dark shit. You’re mine, and I love you.” 

He pulled you in for a kiss so quickly you barely processed it. “And I love you.” 

You giggled into the kiss and only pulled away when you were breathless. You kissed your way down his chin and nuzzled his neck, sighing in delight. 

Bucky said, “I think I should retire.” 

“Hmm,” You asked, “And what would you do in retirement?” 

“Watch you paint, raise our dog, adopt some more animals, attend your art exhibitions, and eventually make some babies with you.” He listed it all so easily. 

“Sounds like a plan.” You agreed.