#you tap and slide on the lights around it

[aquaticmercy]

Waste a Moment / Part 9

Summary : Bucky had always kept his distance, but seeing you get hurt on a mission changed everything. For the first time, he has a chance to start over with you.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x avenger!reader (she/her) 

Warnings/tags : Mentions of food. Cursing. Memory loss. Head injury. Reader used to work in a museum.

Requested by :  @remoony

Word count : 2.5k

Note : I've been writing a lot lately because I have a week's worth of break lol. Enjoy!

Series Masterlist

"Ticking Time Bomb"

Monday.

The next morning, you joined the team in the training gym. 

Bucky woke up early. When you got there, he was already there, casually leaning against a stack of weights, his ever watchful eyes tracking you across the room. He gave you a subtle smile that only you would notice, and the sweetness on his lips brought back his gentle touches and lingering kisses he gave you last night. It made your stomach flip.

You tried to focus on the training exercises.

You really did. 

You kept your stance right, threw your punches with precision, and were careful with your footwork, but Bucky’s presence remained a wonderful distraction. Every time your eyes met, you felt that same giddy rush, the kind that made it nearly impossible to keep your head straight.

It didn’t help that he was teasing you a little, too. During sparring practice, he’d tap your elbow to correct your form, his fingers lingering a bit longer than necessary. His hand would trail over your shoulder as he passed, a little reassuring, a little flirtatious.

Finally, after wrapping up another session with Clint and Scott, he pulled you aside to a quieter corner of the training room under the pretense of adjusting your technique. His voice was soft and he was close enough that you felt his breath against your cheek. “Need to keep that elbow higher,” he murmured, his hand sliding up to rest gently on your arm, guiding it into place.

But it was obvious neither of you was paying attention to technique.

“Right here?” you whispered, your voice playful as you met his gaze. You leaned into him a little, taking in his vanilla aftershave.

“Mmhm,” he replied, his tone softening. He leaned out of the corner quickly, seeing Clint and Scott excuse themselves from the gym to go to dinner together.

In one quick, brave moment, you leaned in and kissed him, a sweet, simple kiss that had grown frequent in the days leading up to this. Bucky’s hand came up to cradle your face as he deepened the embrace.

It was intoxicating. His lips, warm and steady against yours, had become another anchor in your life, a new memory blooming from nothingness. Every time he kissed you. everything around you started fading away.

a and you didn’t mind.

As you pulled back, still lost in his gaze, you caught a movement out of the corner of your eye. 

Yelena stood in the doorway, her silhouette sharp against the dim light behind her. Arms crossed tight over her chest, looking like a storm was brewing over her head.

You studied darkened the cut above her eyebrow, a stale bruise turning her cheekbone purple beneath the skin.

You caught yourself wondering if the marks were from her last sparring session with Bucky. They were of a similar intensity, but unlike him, Yelena didn’t have the luxury of a healing factor. Every pain of hers was so devastatingly human. 

As her gaze locked onto the two of you, her spine straightened. Her eyes, cold and unblinking, struck like daggers, dissecting the scene before her. 

And it made her stomach knot.

She didn’t say a word, not yet; she simply watched. Her expression was unreadable, but you could feel the tension radiating from her like waves crashing on the hull of a ship. 

There was a hint of fierceness in her eyes— something between anger and disappointment. Then, without a single word, she turned on her heel and walked out, leaving the door swinging shut behind her.

She had slammed it shut so hard that some of the weightlifting bars rattled.

You stood there in stunned silence. Your heart pounded as you glanced up at Bucky, who seemed just as tense. 

He tried forcing a calm look on his face, But you could feel the shift between you, a subtle tension lingering in the air, a crack in the heat of the moment you’d found together.

You stared again, at the door where Yelena had disappeared, a knot forming in your stomach. Her reaction lingered, simmering like a quiet echo of something you couldn’t quite place. You turned to Bucky, your tired eyes narrowing in confusion. 

You had told her how you felt about Bucky in the museum.

I’m happy for you, she had said then, you sound at peace with him.

She had not been disapproving then, why was she so disapproving now?

“Why is she so upset?” you asked. Your voice was soft, a note of worry beneath it. 

Bucky’s expression shifted so slowly, almost imperceptibly. His mouth pressed into a thin line. He was usually good at being unreadable, but in that moment, his face gave away more than he probably intended.

“It’s… complicated,” he finally said, his tone careful. It's as if he was choosing each word with precision. He reached out, his hand landing gently on your arm again. “But it’s not something you need to worry about. I’ll talk to her.”

“Bucky,” You searched his eyes, waiting for him to explain further, to give you a hint of whatever knowledge was lingering just out of reach, “if there’s something I should know…”

He shook his head, his thumb absently brushing along your forearm. “This is my responsibility,” he murmured. “You and Yelena… she’d always been protective of you. I’ll talk to her.”

His voice was steady, comforting, but the knot in your stomach didn’t ease. You trusted him, but something in your gut told you this wasn’t a simple misunderstanding. 

Still, you nodded, letting out a small sigh. “Ok.”

“She just cares about you.” His lips hesitantly curved into a small, reassuring smile. He leaned in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead.

You gave him a hopeful smile. But as he pulled away and walked down the hallway toward where Yelena had gone, the question still echoed in your mind, unanswered.

—

Bucky found Yelena down the dim hallway, her back against the wall, arms crossed. Her jaw was set, eyes colder than a December blizzard in Moscow. As soon as he stopped, she fixed him with a stare that sliced through him.

She didn’t waste a second once he approached, her voice low and sharp. “Have you told her?” she demanded, voice low and sharp.

He hesitated, a beat too long, and the silence was telling enough. 

Her laugh was quick, bitter. She shattered the illusion like breaking glass. “Of course you didn’t.”

“I—”

“You can’t just act like everything’s fine, Barnes.” Her voice, barely controlled. It sent a chill down his spine. The edges were raw, each word dipped in into her own pain.

“Yelena, listen—” he started, a warning lacing his voice. He was desperate, but she didn’t flinch.

“She deserves the truth, Barnes.” The words hissed from her, venomous and guttural. “Every time you look at her, every time you lie to her face with that perfect little smile of yours, you’re keeping her in this prison of her own head.” Her voice cracked, but her resolve did not.

A mask of defiance slipping over his darkening eyes. “It’s better this way.” He forced the words out, gaze fixed somewhere over the former Widow’s shoulder. “I’m here for her now. I don’t want to hurt her anymore.”

“Better? Better?” Yelena’s lips curled, disdain twisting her face. “You think letting her believe that you’ve always been this perfect guy is better?” Her voice had risen, words lashing out. It felt like she was striking him with another punch, the memory of her drawing blood from his lips echoing in his mind.

The accusation sliced through him, and his defenses faltered. His eyes dropped for just a moment, a flicker of shame surfacing.

“This doesn't erase how you were before,” she pressed, her voice lowering to something almost tender, almost pitying. “It doesn’t erase what you said.”

He tensed, grief flickering behind his eyes, but Yelena pushed on, relentless. 

“She told me, Barnes.” She took a step closer, her voice lowering to a dangerous whisper. “The night before everything went to shit. She told me you said you didn’t want her around. That you felt like you couldn’t breathe when she was near you.” She let the words hang, sharp, brutal, watching each one sink in and striking the target with lethal precision.

Bucky went still, his expression cracking open as if her words had ripped the scab from an old wound he thought had healed. His gaze dropped to the floor, and for a moment, he was utterly, devastatingly silent.

“I…”  he managed, “She told you that?” his voice barely a whisper. His face was haunted, raw, like she’d peeled back every layer he’d built up.

“Of course she did,” Yelena’s voice softened, saying it as if she was obvious.

“She came to me that night, shattered.” Yelena continued, but there was not a single hint of mercy in it. “She told me how she kept breaking herself apart for you, piece by piece, waiting for you to see— and then you broke her heart because you wouldn’t admit you loved her then.”

His hands clenched at his sides. His face was a mix of guilt, regret, and self-loathing. “I thought I was protecting her.” His voice was barely audible, frayed at the edges. “Keeping her safe from… from me. I didn’t know how to handle what I felt for her then.”

“You might’ve convinced yourself that you did it for her, but we both know it was for you.” Yelena let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. Her Russian accent was thicker now, her voice colder, harsher, as if she was trying to bury whatever part of herself might have sympathised with him. “You pushed her away because you were afraid, and now you’re lying to her because you’re still afraid.”

She was right, and he couldn’t deny it. Every instinct in him told him to protect you, to keep you from the truth. But each lie he told, each omission, was building a fragile illusion that he knew couldn’t last forever.

But he wasn’t ready to let go. 

Not now.

Not ever.

“One week, Barnes.” Yelena’s voice was like steel, her gaze piercing. “You have one week to tell her everything.” She took a breath, but it was laced with fury, eyes blazing with a dangerous certainty. “Or I will.”

“Yelena… don’t do this.” Bucky looked up, his eyes pleading, voice cracking. “Please—”

“One week.” She spat the words, leaving no room for negotiation. No room for debate.

There was a cold finality that seemed unbreakable. 

Then, without another word, she turned and walked away, her footsteps echoing down the empty hallway. 

Bucky now stood alone, desperate to keep what he had.

—

You cornered Bucky in the kitchen that evening, his back to you as he pretended to focus on cleaning up.

You could see the tension in his shoulders. He hadn’t been himself since the conversation with Yelena; something was up.

“Bucky,” you started, gently but firmly. “What’s going on with Yelena?”

He paused for a fraction of a second, then kept scrubbing a plate that was already clean. “What do you mean?” His voice was too casual, his face too carefully neutral.

You tilted your head, studying his movements. “Did something happen when you talked to her?”

“No. Nothing happened.” He forced a shrug, his tone dismissive. “She’s just being protective. You know how she is.”

“Bucky.” You took a step closer, lowering your voice. “I know when you’re hiding something. I can tell.”

He let out a deep breath, setting the plate down. “Yelena’s just… she worries too much,” He finally turned to face you, forehead creased with tension. “She’s your friend, and she wants to make sure you’re okay. Sometimes she goes a little overboard.”

“That’s not what this is.” You crossed your arms, frustration building. “There must be something specific she’s upset about. She barely looked at me when she left. Did I do something to hurt her–”

“No, doll, of course not,” He shook his head, a hint of guilt in his eyes, but he pushed it down. “She’s just… overthinking things.”

You took a steadying breath, unwilling to let it go. “Can you please tell me if it has something to do with me?”

He looked at you, a spark across his ruggedly handsome features. For a moment, you thought he might open up. But then he quickly shut it down, his voice firm with fake conviction. 

“Yelena’s got her own stuff going on,” he said. “It doesn’t have anything to do with us.”

“Darling,” you said softly, reaching out to touch his arm, searching for his eyes that wouldn’t yours. “Whatever it is… just tell me.”

Your eyes— loving, unwavering, filled with a warmth that wrapped around him like a promise. Your touch, it felt like a hand reaching out to pull him from the darkness he used to live in.

He couldn’t tell you. He wouldn’t. Not now, not with everything still fucked up and tangled inside him, not when the truth might shatter that beautiful, fragile trust of yours.

He held your gaze for a moment, but then he shook his head, his expression hardening. Instead, he lied, “It’s nothing you don’t know.”

He knew the lies were going to pile up, each one stacking higher, heavier, until they would threaten to crush everything he was trying so hard to protect. He’d known for a while now that things were slipping, spiraling out of control like a freight train without any breaks. What started as harmless omissions, things he told himself you didn’t need to know, had twisted into a web he’d tangled himself in.

He hadn’t meant to lie to you. 

But here he was, watching himself dig a hole so deep he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to claw his way out. With every false reassurance, every carefully hidden truth, he could feel the ground shifting beneath his feet, pulling him further into his living grave.

And you? You could feel the distance building between you, a wall he was desperately trying to keep up, and it left a hollow feeling in your chest. “I just… I feel like something’s wrong, and I can’t help but feel like you’re not telling me the whole story.”

Bucky’s whole posture tensed. He forced a smile, a half-hearted attempt to reassure you. “I told you everything, okay?” He lied again, the words stumbling over each other as he tried to reassure you. “Yelena’s just being Yelena. She’s overprotective. Don’t let it get to you.” 

He sighed, noticing how… aggressive he had been. 

He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, lingering there. It was almost as if he hoped the gesture alone would somehow close the crater between you. 

“Let’s just… focus on us, alright?” he whispered, his thumb brushing gently along your cheek. His words sounded sweet, but they were thin, unconvincing. Even as he tried to comfort you, there was a wall you could feel but not quite see.

You could sense it— something he kept just out of reach, a small fortress of secrets he wasn’t ready to share. 

And yet, even with all the tension, all the unspoken fears, you trusted him anyway.

You loved him anyway. 

Maybe it was the way he looked at you, as if he was terrified of losing you, or the way he always reached for your hand, a silent plea to believe in him just a little bit longer. 

-To be continued

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[h-ngm-nssluttt]

Color My World

Jake Seresin x Reader

Ella Kazansky never thought she would be able to find someone to bring color into her world after her boyfriend Max passed away. But someone she least’s expects brings the most vibrant new colors into her world.

This will be a series.

Color My World Chapter 2

Song: If I would have known - Kyle Hume

Chapter 1

I lay in our bed, comforter pulled tightly up to my chin as I lay there and stare at the empty space beside me. The sound of the rain outside is the only sound filling the quiet air. The dark gray sky and clouds swirling outside as the rain streaks down the window like tears. It’s like the sky decided to cry today because the world misses him too. I close my eyes as the tears slide down my cheeks.

2 years.

2 Years since the accident.

2 years since Max has been gone.

The scenery flew by as we drove down the road. The song on the radio playing as Max pretended to air drum as he tapped along on the steering wheel. His smile infectious as we sang and danced to “This is the day” by: The The

(when I think back on it now… how ironic that this is the song that was playing… because this is the day my world got flipped upside down in an instant)

I laugh as Max sings loudly as he looks over at me as he takes his sunglasses off.

“You ready for this weekend?”

“Beyond ready… you and me… good music… friends… and going back to the place we met… how could I not be ready”

Max smiled as he looked back to the road

“Still the greatest day of my life, you know that? Who would have thought that day would have led to us being together for the last 5 years?”

I smile as I look out at the world passing us by

“Oh I knew right away… love at first sight baby”

Max let out a laugh and a smile as he looked over at me. He knew that was true for the both of us. The second we met each other it was like… like suddenly my life went from black and white to full of color in an instant. From that moment on Max brought so much color into my life. It was beautiful. The life we had together was beautiful.

“While these 5 years have been great… I hope you know I expect forever with you”

“Forever with you sounds like heaven”

The sound of the music was taken over by the sound of screeching tires, shattering glass and then my world went black.

I opened my eyes as the harsh white light of the room I was in bombarded my blurry eyes. Various beeping sounds filled the air as I took a breath and looked around. My eyes landed on my mom. She quickly looks up and lets out a sigh as she grabs my hand. My father stood behind her. I could make out the dark blue of his Naval Uniform. My throat felt drier than a desert as I manage to speak

“Wh..what happened?”

My mother grabs my hand as she looks at me and brushes some of my hair out of my face.

“You were in a car accident sweetie.. you’ve been in a medically induced coma for the last week”

I lay there silently as I blink my eyes. An accident. I try to remember what happened. All I remember is smiling at Max and then nothing.

“Is Max okay?”

My mother turns her head to look back at my father before looking back at me as her grip on my hand tightens.

“honey… Max didn’t survive.. the doctors said he died on impact”

Those are two words that should never be in a sentence together. ‘Max’ and ‘Died’.

Those two words… are the words that drained all the color from my world.

The sound of my phone ringing pulls me back to reality as I wipe the tears from my eyes and glance at the screen. My mothers name is displayed. She’s tried calling twice now. I take a deep breath as I try to sound as normal as possible.

“hi mom…. I’m fine… I’m actually about to head out the door to go to work… Can I call you back later today?... perfect… love you too… bye”

Gizmo shuffles up the bed and lays right next to me as he lets out a soft whine. I put my arm around him as I lay there in bed.

“I know Giz.. I know…”

In reality, I didn’t go to work today. I didn’t move from our bed. I laid there until I had no choice but to get up and try to function like a somewhat normal human being for the rest of the afternoon. My phone kept dinging and dinging. Natasha called and texted. Max’s mom even called… but I eventually just shut it off. I know people think that checking in is what I need today… but in reality what I need is for Max to still be here but we all know that isn’t going to happen.

I find myself sitting in that same damn chair, staring at that same stain on the carpet. A few moments later I hear the same question as always

“How are you doing today Ella?”

I sit there and stare at Darla as she grabs her notebook and pen. The same lie coming out of my mouth.

“I’m doing okay”

She gives me a brief smile as she speaks again

“Today’s a big milestone. It’s been 2 years since the accident”

Milestone. I thought milestones were used to measure happy times. Like a baby walking for the first time. Their 1st birthday. Each year they live… another milestone….. but here we are labeling the years without Max as milestones…

“I know. Still feels like it was yesterday though…”

“2 years is still relatively fresh for a loss like you endured Ella”

I sigh as I look out the window of her office like I usually do watching the rain fall from the sky

“I just… I didn’t think I would still be feeling this deeply after 2 years… It’s making me feel like I’m incapable of moving on”

“You are capable Ella. Progress doesn’t always follow a linear path. It’s okay to still be struggling after 2 years.”

I sigh as I pull my legs up onto the couch as I turn my gaze back onto her

“I feel like I’ve been having more good days than bad… but… I just didn’t think it would hurt this badly to miss him”

Darla’s voice comes out soft as she looks at me

“It’s normal to have good days and bad days. It’s part of the healing process. Loss is never easy, and it’s okay to miss him. It shows that you cared. It shows that the love you two shared was real.”

I sigh as I start picking at the edge of my flannel trying to keep my emotions at bay.

“I know it was real… I just… I don’t know if I subconsciously keep taking 5 steps back in my progress because I’m scared that if I do make progress… it will make it feel less real? That I’ll begin to forget him? That I’ll stop remembering him”

Darla nods as she writes something down in her notebook.

“It’s natural to hold onto the memories and feelings of a loved one that’s passed. But it’s important to remember that moving forward and making progress in your healing doesn’t mean forgetting or erasing the memories. It means honoring his memory and allowing yourself to find peace and happiness in the future.”

“That’s the thing… he was supposed to be my happiness.. my future and now I….”

I look back out the window

“I know, and it’s a devastating loss. But you have to allow yourself to imagine a future without him. You deserve happiness, and he would want you to find peace and joy even without him.”

“I feel like he wouldn’t… I feel like.. I don’t know.. if I find happiness that I’m trying to replace him…”

Darla tilts her head at my response as she continues to pry into my thoughts

“And why do you feel that way?”

“I feel like everything was black and white before… and then Max came along and..”

I cut myself off as I take a deep breath and focus on the rain falling down the window

“and then? Can you tell me more about what happened when Max came along?”

My voice shakes as I feel the lump in my throat form and the tears trying to well up into my eyes

“he… he gave my life color and now I feel like everything’s back to black and white since he died”

“I understand. It’s natural to feel like life has lost its color after such a significant loss. But it’s important to remember that there are still beautiful colors out there waiting for you. Colors that Max would want you to see”

My voice comes out in a shaky whisper

“It’s not going to be the same though”

“No, it won't be the same. Nothing can replace what you had with Max. But that doesn’t mean there isn’t still beauty and happiness out there waiting for you. It doesn’t mean you can’t find new colors in your life even if they are different”

I sit there in silence. I know there’s other colors out there but I don’t want other colors. I only want the colors that Max brought into my life. The lump in my throat grows as I try to keep my tears down

“I had the thought again… of why him and not me… it’s been awhile since I’ve had it”

Darla looks at me as her attention to me piques momentarily

“That thought is common for people grieving a loss. It’s a reflection of the pain and unfairness you’re feeling. I’m glad though that you recognize that you haven’t had that thought in awhile. That shows progress Ella”

“It does?”

A small smile forms on Darla’s face as she looks at me

“Yes it does! The fact that you haven’t thought about it in awhile means that you’re gradually moving forward in your healing process. It shows that you’re slowly letting go of some of the pain and anger associated with the thought. It’s a sign of growth and resilience.”

“It doesn't feel like it.. I feel I’m going to be stuck as the girl who can’t get over her dead boyfriend…”

Darla’s expression softens as her voice softens

“No, that’s not true. You’re not ‘just’ anything. You’re an incredible person who is going through a very difficult time. Two years is still fairly recent in the grieving process, especially for something as significant as a boyfriend, let alone a boyfriend who you spent 5 years of your life with. It’s okay to still be healing, and it’s okay to still be feeling the pain. That doesn’t make you ‘unable to get over him.’ It makes you human. And you’re stronger than you give yourself credit for Ella.”

I sit there in silence as I close my eyes and take a deep breath as I feel the tears begin to well up and fall down my cheeks. Darla sits there quietly for a few moments before speaking up again.

“Take a few deep breaths Ella. Allow yourself the space to feel the emotions that are coming up. You’re doing an incredible job working through this.”

“I just with it didn’t hurt this much to miss him”

“I know. Missing someone you love is one of the hardest things to go through. And the pain can feel unbearable at times. But it’s a testament to the depth of your love and the beautiful connection you shared with Max. It means he was worth every tear and every moment of hurt”

I quickly wipe the tears from my face

“Yeah.. worth every moment”

Darla shifts in her seat as she leans in a little closer to me

“Alright, let’s shift gears a little. Can you tell me a happy memory you have of Max?”

A soft smile forms on my lips despite the tears falling from my eyes

“There’s so many”

“That’s wonderful to hear. Can you share one that stands out a little more than the others?”

I sit there as I shuffle through the countless memories in my head that I have of Max and I before settling on one.

“My birthday 4 years ago… Max decided to get up early and make me my favorite breakfast…..

I rolled over to find the other side of the bed empty which was unusual. Max never woke up before me. I pull the covers back as I swing my legs over the side of the bed. A faint smile appears on my face as I can hear the soft sound of a record playing downstairs. I walked out of the room and stopped at the top of the steps.

“Max-a-million”

“Kitchen my love”

I quickly made my way down the stairs leaning on the doorframe to the kitchen as I watched him pour pancake batter into a hot pan, towel slung over his shoulder. His soft hums fill the kitchen along with the music. He turned his head and greeted me with his million-dollar smile

“one special birthday breakfast coming up for the love of my life”

I smile as I slowly make my way across the kitchen to him as he smiles and wraps his arms around me pulling me into a soft hug placing a kiss to my lips and telling me ‘I love you madly’ before taking my hand and twirling me away from him as he started dancing to the song playing on the record player. Smiles and laughter filled the kitchen as we danced and he sang into the spatula. We were so wrapped up in the moment and each other we both failed to realize that the pancakes in the pan started burning. The homemade breakfast was a bust after that and we ended up going to our favorite café on the beach instead.

“But it turned into us dancing and singing in the kitchen which resulted in him burning the pancakes because we were just so caught up in the moment together. It’s like I can hear his laugh and how he’d always say he loves me madly”

Darla’s smile widens as she listens to me talk about a memory of Max.

“That sounds like a beautiful memory. The carefree laughter, the dance, the love, the burned pancakes. It’s those little moments, those mundane yet special moments, that make us fall in love and feel truly happy isn’t it?”

“He made it so easy to fall in love with him more and more each day”

“That’s what makes the loss of someone we love so difficult. That daily dose of happiness and love suddenly disappears, leaving a void that feels unbearable at times. But it also speaks to the strength of your love – a love that was deep, intense and beautiful. It must have been incredible to experience that kind of connection with Max.”

“Those 5 years were the most incredible years of my life… and it was because of him”

“It sounds like you two had something truly special. To have a relationship that brought you so much happiness and fulfilled you in every way is a rare find. It speaks to the depth of his love for you, and yours for him. Do you think anything will ever compare?”

I look down at my hands as I whisper out my response as I feel my emotions bubbling up again.

“no”

Darla sets her notebook down and leans forward in her chair

“I’m going to ask you something, and you don’t have to answer  if you don’t feel ready. But I want to explore this topic a little further. When you say nothing will ever compare, how does that make you feel?”

I take a deep breath as I try to think of a word to describe how I feel

“Devastated I guess”

“It’s understandable to feel devastated by the thought that no one will ever compare to Max. It’s a painful realization to come to terms with. Can I ask you another question?”

“Sure”

“Sometimes, in the wake of a significant loss, we can develop what is known as ‘catastrophic thinking’. It’s when we start to think in black and white, all or nothing terms. Have you ever found yourself thinking that you’ll never find love like you did with Max again?”

“Yes.. all the time” I wipe a tear from my cheek as I look at Darla. Of course I think that. How could I ever find someone to love me like Max did. Why would I want to find someone new. Max was my once in a lifetime love.

“It's a normal part of the grieving process to have these fears and doubts. It’s the mind’s way of trying to protect itself from further pain. But it can be a limiting belief that can keep us from fully healing and moving forward. Can I share something with you?”

“Of course”

“When we say things like ‘nobody will ever compare to Max’ or ‘I’ll never love like this again,’ we are not only limiting our own future but also, in a small way, limiting Max’s memory. Love isn’t stagnant, it’s fluid, and it can change and grow in unexpected ways. Do you think Max would want you to live the rest of your life alone thinking nobody will ever measure up?”

“No… he’d probably tell me to find someone who puts color into my world like he did”

I look up at Darla as she smiles at my answer

“That’s exactly right. He’d want you to find joy and love again. We often think about honoring the dead through rituals or momentos, but true honor comes in living a life that they’d be proud of. Do you think he’d be proud of you if you spend the rest of your life closed off to the possibility of loving and being loved again?”

“No… he wouldn’t”

“Exactly. By keeping yourself trapped in a black and white perspective, you're not allowing yourself the chance to experience the fullness of life again. The ‘color’ metaphor you used before is very relevant here. Max gave your life color. Maybe it’s time for you to let other colors back in. It doesn’t mean replacing Max or forgetting him. It means making room in your heart for new experiences and new love”

“But I feel like I’m not ready for ‘new color’ in my life”

“That’s completely understandable Ella. You’ve been through a significant loss, and it’s okay to feel like you’re not ready yet. Grieving takes time and it’s different for everyone. But remember, the point isn’t to replace or move on from Max. It’s about allowing your heart to expand. Maybe instead of looking at it as ‘new color’, think of it as ‘additional color.’ It doesn’t erase or diminish what you had with Max. It just adds to the beautiful palette of your life.”

I look back out the window at the gray sky swirling as the rain stops falling as I mumble,

“Additional Color…”

“Yes, additional color. It’s like adding a new shade to a painting without changing the original picture. That way, you’re not replacing Max or what you had, but you’re expanding on it. It’s about having space in your heart for new love and new experiences that are just as beautiful and worthwhile, even if they might not bring the same exact feeling or color that Max did. Does that make sense?”

“So essentially I’m just adding onto the colors Max has already given me”

“Exactly Ella. You’re not replacing or erasing Max’s colors from your heart. You’re not removing anything. You’re just adding more colors, potentially even brighter and richer than what you had before. It’s not about forgetting or moving on, but expanding your capacity to love and experience life fully, just as Max would want you to”

“That makes sense…”

Darla leans back into her chair before picking her notebook backup and writing a few things down

“So, it’s not a case of ‘nobody will ever compare to Max.’ Rather, it’s a case of ‘nobody will ever bring the exact same color as Max, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t other beautiful colors out there that can add to my life in a different, but equally meaningful way.’ Can you see how that perspective might help ease the catastrophic thinking pattern you have?”

I nod my head as I see Darla glance at the clock before looking back at me.

“That’s wonderful. It’s important to remember that the purpose of therapy is growth, not just fixing things. And by challenging your catastrophic thinking, you’re showing a lot of strength. Can I give you some homework for the next time we meet?”

I nod my head yes as I put my feet back down onto the floor from the couch as Darla looks at me

“I’d like you to keep a journal between now and our next session. Every day, I want you to write down something beautiful, something that brings a bit of joy or color into your day. It could be a simple moment, like a bird singing outside your window, or something more significant, it doesn’t matter. The point is to practice focusing on the beauty and positives in life. Can you do that?

“I can do that”

“Excellent. I believe it will help you slowly start shifting your mindset towards a more positive and hopeful future. Is there anything else you like to talk about before we end our session today?”

“Not that I can think of… I think I’ve had enough for today…”

Darla puts her notebook back down before sliding forward in her chair and placing her hand on my knee in a comforting way

“That’s completely understandable. It can be overwhelming to go through these heavy topics, and it’s important to know when to take a break. I’m proud of you for being open and honest today Ella. Start that journal exercise and I will see you in a few weeks”

I lay in bed staring at the ceiling. My phone dinging on the bedside table drawing me out from my thoughts. I see a text from Natasha

-Hey, I hope today was okay for you. You never called back and I understand but know I’m here if you need me… You’re coming out with me Saturday night. No excuses…

-okay

I felt bad for ignoring her all day but if anyone understands that I just want to be alone it’s Natasha. I lay there thinking about my therapy session today and her suggestion on letting ‘additional color’ into my life. It’s going to be damn near impossible to find any kind of color remotely close to the colors Max gave me… or so I thought… 

------------------------------------------------------------------------------Chapter 3 coming!

Jake makes his appearance in the next chapter!!!

If you want to be added to the tag list shoot me a message!

[nekohime19]

Bimawen # 10 : Old feud

Wukong finally realizing what he's feeling !! He also casually drops a bomb on Mengai, 🤭.

Wukong eyed the mixture swirling in his green-glazed cup, it curled around the cup's wide mouth, dancing in its shallow ends. The tea was hot. Curls of smoke danced above it, washed away in the early breeze. The smell was strong, filled with earthy tones, it was like smelling a handful of sun-drenched dirt. Wukong liked it. He took the delicate cup, his fingers sliding over the luxurious ceramic, and brought it to his lips. The tea was bitter, it nipped at his lips, unyielding. His favorite flavor.

“I knew you'd like my new flavor, bimawen.” Wukong looked up, he gulped down the rest of his tea and put down the cup, utterly satisfied. The one who spoke was bathed in auspicious light, his eyes gleaming with warmth, the kind found in the dead of winter. Yuanshin always inspired a special kind of peacefulness. Serene yet inexplicably powerful. Like the surface of a glassy sea. Serene, yet who knew what laid in its deep ends?

“You always know best when it comes to tea, your reverence.” Hummed Wukong. Despite the respectful address, Wukong acted with no false pretense, his tone lacked the expected submission one should show in front of such revered figures. Yet the Three Pure Ones didn't mind. Perhaps because they were aware of his character, they satisfied themselves with the meager term of address. “You may call me Sun Tao, if you wish to.”

“Sun Tao?” Repeated Lingbao, his face was cut off of ice itself, unmoving no matter the vicissitudes of life. Wukong never saw this man as anything other than proper. No dirt on his golden robe, no curls on his dark-ink hair, he was always the epitome of perfection.

“My courtesy name.” Clarified Wukong.

“Since when do you have one?” Asked Laozi, his eyes curved not unlike those of a cat. His white hair cascaded on his shoulders like ferocious rivers, untamed yet oddly ordered. This man held secrets in his eyes and mysteries on his lips. He was as incomprehensible as the far-away stars yet as familiar as the morning dew. Wukong knew the old-man hid his mischievous smile behind the tip of his fan, he didn't pay it any mind.

“My assistant gave it to me.” Wukong couldn't help the hint of pride bleeding in his tone. He never truly wished for a courtesy name before, but the mere fact that Mengai was the one to give it to him was enough for it to become special. He wanted to use it. It was a gift from his assistant. Wouldn't he be the worst boss if dared to not use it?

“Well then, Sun Tao it is.” Yuanshin smiled, he lifted his cup in acknowledgement of Wukong's new term of address and took one gulp of the earthy drink. The other two deities followed his lead. Wukong chirped in satisfaction, it felt good to be acknowledged.

“You're awfully close to your new assistant, aren't you Sun Tao.” His courtesy name sounded somewhat teasing on Laozi's lips. The old sage reclined on his chair, his white fan tapping against his chin. His eyes, like always, were calculative, as if trying to see beyond what was shown. Wukong didn't know what Laozi seeked within him and he didn't care. He wasn't one to be played with. Perhaps, any other would be like mouses in this man's clutches, but Wukong wasn't like any other, he was no prey.

“Of course, he's my assistant.” Huffed Wukong, as if it was enough to explain his care for Mengai. Yes. Wukong had some confusing thoughts about his assistant, he was still pondering what the lips smack truly meant. But he wasn't one to overthink everything he felt. He knew he cared about Mengai, now what was the nature of that care didn't truly interest him… It would be great to know but he wouldn't die of misery if he didn't know.

Laozi snorted, he waved his fan around like the tail of a serpent. As if he heard something hilarious. The two other deities paid no mind to Laozi's odd mood. Lingbao nodded, happy that his fellow heavenly official was getting along with his assistant, while Yuanshin smiled softly at the news.

“It is good to get along with your colleagues.” Chuckled Yuanshin, he had a twinkle similar to Laozi's in his eyes, as if they shared some sort of hilarious secret, yet Yuanshin's gaze was infinitely gentler. He took another gulp of his cup, the sight made Wukong thirsty all over again, he waved around, immediately a servant served him another cup. “I heard Chiyou brought back some oddities from his expedition, again.”

“When does he not?” Snorted Wukong, he brought the cup to his lips and downed it in one go. He lacked manners compared to the other three but none minded. They were used to it. Besides, they wouldn't spend time with him if his behavior irked them.

“It is reckless of him. He shouldn't bring mortal objects to Heaven.” Huffed Lingbao, there was the shadow of a frown on his frosty face, a rare occurrence. Like always, Lingbao was always the one to respect rules.

“Didn't he come to your stables to give you his horse? Did you see what he brought back?” Laozi leaned forward, eyes fixed on the bimawen. Wukong chuckled. He also leaned forward, as if sharing an important secret. The Three Pure Ones all lended an ear. They all loved gossip but they didn't show it with the same enthusiast. Lingbao's curiosity was quiet, a ripple on his frosty face. Laozi was the very opposite, he pounced on secrets like a starved beast.

“I saw him with a bag. Something sharp was moving inside.” Whispered Wukong, he put a hand above his mouth as if he had to hide his words from outside ears. The Three Pure Ones ooed with various levels of amusement.

“He brought back a weapon.” Hummed Lingbao.

“Evidently, Chiyou is obsessed with weapons.” Huffed Laozi.

“It is most likely cursed.” They all nodded at Yuanshin's input. It wasn't the first time Chiyou brought back cursed weapons from his expeditions. As long as Chiyou managed to control those cursed objects, all was well, but it happened that one or three escaped, causing mayhem in their wake.

“Let's just hope whatever he brought back doesn't disrupt our peace.” Chuckled Yuanshin.

“I don't know…a bit of chaos could do us some good.” Huffed Laozi, he waved his fan excitedly, as if the mere thought of it thrilled him. Wukong was on his side. A bit of chaos could be fun. Heaven felt too static at times.

“As long as he doesn't cross paths with Huangdi.” Sighed Lingbao. They all nodded at this. It was well known that the God of War and the Yellow Emperor couldn't stand each other. Blood flowed each time they crossed eyes. It was an old feud. As old as the birth of kingdoms.

Wukong reclined on his chair, the sun was pouring on their table. The weather was clear. Not a cloud in sight. Yet Wukong knew the cold season was soon to be. The Three Pure Ones’ garden was an odd place. Everything was precisely ordered, each rock, each pond was perfectly placed, yet everything seemed so natural that one wouldn't even think a hand arranged it all. The bimawen's gaze strayed on the carps swimming in the crystal-water pond. He licked his lips… He felt a bit hungry suddenly.

“Sun Tao?” Wukong flinched, he turned towards Lingbao and acted like he never thought wrong in his life. He'll bother his assistant for a fish when he'll get back home.

They kept gossiping until the sun was approaching its zenith. They talked about every little thing that happened recently. Ranging from one wind spirit accidentally letting squalls escape to the Region Below to Constellations losing at a play of lianghu. Wukong never played this game of dice before. He made the Three Pure Ones promise him to try on their next tea gathering.

“You should go see Yuelao, Sun Tao.” Hummed Laozi before the bimawen could leave the garden. Wukong turned towards the old sage and raised one eyebrow. Laozi's eyes were twinkling with mischief. Wukong didn't know if he was trying to pull him into one of his schemes or if this was genuine advice. He never truly talked to Yuelao, from what he knew this deity was overseeing matters of the heart. Some even said he tied red strings on people ankles, bonding them in fate itself.

“Why should I?” Huffed Wukong, he put his hand on his hips and looked up at the old sage with defiance. Laozi snorted, he lightly hit him with the tip of his fan.

“Because I said so.” Laozi left with those words, leaving Wukong alone. The old sage robes flowed in his wake, fluttering like the wings of a butterfly.

Wukong rubbed his forehead, he grimaced. Laozi didn't hit him too hard but still he didn't like to be teased in this manner.

Hmph.

Why should he go see the God of Love and Marriage?

Still monkeys were curious by nature and Wukong couldn't help himself, without truly thinking about it, he walked towards old Yuelao's palace.

***

The Moon Palace was cladded in fog, its pale pristine walls surrounded by swirls of ethereal smoke. It stood in the center of the Region yet it felt like it was cut off from everything surrounding it. The warm shine of swaying lanterns illuminated the serene place. Wukong leisurely walked on the bridge leading to the palace. The sunlight was dampened by the swirling fog, whitened it until it resembled the cold luster of the moon.

Once he was at the foot of the palace, Wukong looked around. The place was strangely empty. Ghostly in a way. He felt something brush against his ankle and looked down. A rabbit was at his feet, two snow-white paws on his left foot.

“What are you doing here lil guy?” Hummed Wukong, he crouched down and poked the fuzzy creature with the tip of his finger. The rabbit's nose twitched. It squeaked, indigned, before pawing harder at Wukong's foot. The bimawen pinched the creature's ear. How dare it pawe at him like this? The rabbit squeaked and pawed harder. Wukong chuckled. “Alright, don't be mad.” He took the fussy creature in his arms and patted its head. The rabbit settled comfortably. “Now, let's find this God of Love.”

Wukong had no qualms about barging in other people's places, especially when no servants were around to guide him. Yuelao's palace was quite serene. The interior was minimalistic yet warm. The bimawen wandered in carpet-cladded corridors for a few minutes before finally seeing someone. A servant clothed in red was wandering in the corridors. The servant flinched at his sight.

“I'm here for the God of Love.” Huffed Wukong, the rabbit was still in his arms, unbothered. The servant looked at him for a few seconds, before letting their gaze fall on the rabbit. For some reason, the cloud obscuring their face faded away when they caught sight of the rabbit, as if its mere presence was explanatory.

“Yes, yes of course.” They squeaked. Wukong followed after them. The servant left him at the foot of an imposing golden-clad door, the bimawen kicked it open with one swift gesture. He stumbled in a light-dimmed office, an old-man was sitting at his desk, leaning over an old scroll.

The old-man had an imposing bear cascading on his chest not unlike untamed vines. His face was as pale as an opal, wrinkled like an agitated sea. His eyes were soft, curved downward like tears. He had a bright red spot on his forehead, burning his skin, a sign of wisdom. Yuelao looked up from his scroll, he didn't seem surprised to see Wukong, in fact, he seemed somewhat relieved.

“I knew you would come, bimawen.” Hummed the deity, his voice as soft as cotton. He gestured to a nearby chair with a flick of hand. Wukong settled comfortably, the rabbit still in his arms. Yuelao looked at the fuzzy creature for a split second, a smirk dancing on his pale lips.

“I just came here to satisfy my curiosity. And you can call me Sun Tao.” Huffed Wukong, he played with the rabbit’s ears, they weren't as soft as Mengai's (nor as cute) but they were fun to play with nonetheless. The rabbit squeaked, outraged, but it couldn't do anything against the bimawen's mighty pets.

Yuelao looked at him with something akin to amusement, he put away his scroll and fully turned towards the bimawen. “Well perhaps I can help you figure some things out, Sun Tao.”

Wukong wasn't one to seek advice on what to do. Usually, if he wanted something, he simply had to take it. However, he did have to admit that what he was feeling towards his assistant was confusing, it wasn't something he was used to. The warmth blooming inside of him was new, unfamiliar. “I like my assistant.” Stated Wukong, sure of himself, because that at least he was sure of. He messed with the rabbit's ears to calm himself. Somehow, talking about Mengai always made him feel quite excited.

“That's good. There are many types of like though.” Pointed out Yuelao. “How do you like your assistant?”

Wukong frowned, he never truly thought about this. He just… enjoyed Mengai's company, he never stopped to think of the intricacies of his fondness. “I just… really like him. I just want to be with him.” Wukong played with the rabbit's ears, the fuzzy creature reluctantly let him do as he pleased. “And I want to nip at his ears. Sometimes, he makes me so giddy… It’s like I can't reign it in and I just have to wrestle him.”

Yuelao raised one eyebrow in intrigue. “That is very specific... Would you say that you're in love with your assistant?”

Wukong's face wrinkled, as if he swallowed something particularly sour. “Love? No. I'm no husband.” Huffed Wukong. He didn't have many experiences with the concept of love. In fact, his knowledge was limited to the brief escapades he saw between mortals. For him, love was akin to a tryst in an alley’s shadows or a kiss on a wedding night. It wasn't something he understood very well. He didn't have those kinds of desires. “I don't want to kiss Mengai. My fangs are too large, they'd hurt him.”

“As I said, love comes in different ways.” Snorted Yuelao. “Your way of loving is perhaps very different from others.”

Wukong thought about it. Mengai was… he wasn't like the others. What Wukong felt wasn't the usual fondness he reserved for his numerous friends. With Mengai…he felt warm. But it wasn't the kind of heat that poured in one's belly nor the one igniting one's chest. It was somewhat softer, tender. Wukong didn't want to kiss, he didn't want to ravish… No. He wanted to hug, to cherish, to smack his lips until his overwhelming fondness was known to all. His fondness for Mengai scared him at times, it was so encompassing, so unfamiliar, it left him at a loss. He expected it to burn, to hurt, yet it didn't… It remained soft, like the sun's kiss in the morning. He couldn't stay away. He was drawn. Like the tides pulled by the moon.

Perhaps, he was in love…in his own odd way.

“So… Can I love him differently? Not like a husband, not like a friend, not like family?”

“You can love him as freely as you wish to.” Nodded Yuelao. Wukong felt reassured. Who needed labels anyway? He was the great bimawen, perhaps it was expected for his love to be different from any others.

Wukong felt better. He didn't like owing something to Laozi but he had to admit that speaking with Yuelao truly helped him. The bimawen nodded at the old-man, grateful for his wisdom. As expected, each profession has its own dedicated expertise. When it came to the heart, Yuelao was one of the absolute authorities, Wukong decided to come see him again if he had other inquiries.

“Thank you, I'll come back with a bottle of wine for you next time.” Nodded Wukong, he put down the rabbit and dusted himself off. He needed to find Mengai and share his discovery! He loved him. How cool was that? He wasn't really worrying about Mengai's own feelings in the matter. As long as Wukong could stay with his assistant, he didn't ask for much more. And even though Mengai didn't like to show it, Wukong knew he cared, in his own grumpy way.

Wukong hurried out of the palace, he felt excited about his new discovery. However, his frenzy was interrupted by a deafening sound. It came from afar. As loud as rumbling thunder.

“What's going on?” Muttered Wukong. Heaven wasn’t usually this loud. In fact, Heaven was often than not silent. The bimawen grabbed a nearby servant and demanded answers.

“The Yellow Emperor and Chiyou saw each other!” Yelped the servant. “Chiyou brought back a cursed sword… It escaped and Huangdi found it…”

Wukong huffed. Really those two couldn't keep it together. But Wukong wasn't one to miss a fight. Especially between two mighty deities. It wasn't often that the Region Above was shaken up by something. “Where are they?” Hummed the bimawen.

“They ran to the outskirts to avoid destruction.” Answered the servant.

Wukong froze. The outskirts ? His domain was in the outskirts. The blonde-furred monkey felt a cold chill run up his spine.

Mengai was in the outskirts!

Wukong was above his domain in seconds. His cloud pierced the air itself, as fast as thunder. The two gods were fighting near the stables, colliding with each other like two starved beasts. The aftershock of their weapons reverbeted in the earth itself. Mengai was with the clones, pushing the horses inside. He was too close to the battle. Wukong didn't like that. He hopped off his cloud and rushed to his assistant.

“Wukong, there is-” The bimawen didn't let him finish, he grabbed his face, eyes zeroing on the blood ticking down his assistant’s ears. Mengai noticed his gaze, his ears flattened on his head. “It's nothing, the sound just surprised me…”

“You go inside the stables with the clones.” Muttered Wukong, his thumb brushed against the macaque's hairy face, cupping the swell of his cheek. Then he turned towards the two fighting gods and growled. “I just need to remind them on whose territory they dare to fight.”

Wukong walked towards the makeshift battlefield. He took the staff hidden in the nook of his ear. It's been years since he took that weapon out. It grew in his hand, until it was as large as his palm and as long as himself. The staff's weight was familiar, his hardened skin fit perfectly against the cold metal. He could feel the power of 13,500 jin vibrating in his hands, one swung was enough to crush the air itself, enough to take hundreds of lives in a demi-second. The blonde-furred monkey leaped forward, he landed in-between the two growling gods, his staff cracking the meadows themselves.

“This doesn't concern you, bimawen.” Huffed Huangdi. He was as straight as an arrow. His yellowed robes floated gracefully around his lean form, not unlike wings. His beard was thin yet long, perfectly groomed, cascading on his chest like a tamed river.

“In fact, it does. This is my domain.” Wukong's lips stretched unnaturally, his eyes twinkled with fury, his fangs, razor-sharp, pressed against his mouth. He was hissing. “Either you leave now and we handle this in court or you persist and we handle this in blood.”

Both gods flinched, no matter their standings, it was impossible to not be aware of the bimawen's might. There was a time where none would have taken Wukong seriously. After all, a monkey couldn't even hope to equal a god, could he ? But the entirety of Heaven learned soon enough to not anger their good-natured bimawen. There was a story. Passed along in hushed whispers. Slithering from ears to ears. Once, the Jade Emperor took all of the bimawen’s previous assistants, believing Wukong could manage the stables on his own. When the bimawen reclaimed his manpower back, the Emperor refused… This day, the bimawen beat Heaven's most competent warrior to the ground, scarring the Region itself with the shape of his fist. Since then, none would be foolish enough to dare anger him.

Huangdi lowered his sword, Chiyou turned his head away. Both gods left the outskirts under the bimawen’s careful watch. Wukong shrinked his staff only when he was sure they left. He promised himself to make them regret trespassing on his domain and wreaking havoc on his lands. He wasn't one to be vengeful. In fact, his anger was as quick to fade as it was to rise. But they made his assistant bleed. And that he couldn't forgive. He'll bring this to court. Make them pay with some good bottles of wine and, perhaps, something more shameful for gods of their stature.

After all, his assistant will need some good vacations after being hurt and someone needed to do his job.

***

Wukong was sitting near his stone tub, the swirls of smoke danced close to him, brushing against his face. They enticed him to come. Like an invisible hand scratching under his chin. Truly. Wukong loved hot baths. His ear flickered when he heard his assistant approach. Mengai put down a heavy bamboo basket filled with peaches and oranges, he huffed, tired by the effort, and leaned over the fruits.

“I thought you didn't like hot baths.” Hummed Wukong as he creeped closer to the basket. He hovered over it, eyes curved in glee, before choosing the ripest peach for himself.

“I don't, but you do.” The bimawen froze at this. He looked up at his assistant and gulped. Again. The warmth poured in his chest, embracing his heart in the softest of ways. Wukong felt giddy. The mere thought of his assistant making an effort to please him was thrilling. He bit in the peach to calm his excitement. The fresh juices flooded his mouth and sweetness poured in his throat.

Macaque removed his clothes and crouched down, slowly he put one toe in the tub. He gradually lowered himself in the water tight embrace. “You're coming?” Hummed Macaque as he dived deeper in the large tub. Wukong finished his peach and shimmied out of his clothes, he jumped after Mengai, uncaring of the splashes. The black-furred monkey scowled, not liking being splashed. Wukong found his expression funny.

“Do you feel better?” Asked Mengai. He leaned on one of the tub's walls, water clung to his shoulders, lovely embracing him. Wukong let his eyes remain on his assistant for a bit longer than necessary, he liked watching him, he couldn't help it. His eyes always followed him. Wukong turned away after a few minutes, he lowered himself until the water tapped his chin.

“I wasn't feeling bad…” Huffed the bimawen.

“Liar.” Snorted Mengai. Wukong scowled, was he that easy to read? “You were all tense after the fight. You couldn't even concentrate on the horses.”

“I wasn't that tense.” Weakly argued Wukong. He didn't like admitting his own shortcomings.

“Will you take this to court? It's not like they did any damage, you intervened before things could get messy.” Asked Mengai, his face was reddened by the steam, his tone a bit slurred. Wukong snorted. He truly couldn't handle hot baths yet he stayed to please him. What a Mengmeng. Wukong was unaware his own tail was twitching happily.

“They hurt you.” Huffed Wukong, as if it was enough to justify the upcoming trial. In truth, it would be enough to even start a war. As much as Wukong liked Chiyou, there were lines that shouldn't be crossed. He could pardon their disrespect with a harsh slap on the back, but he couldn't let them go unpunished after making his assistant bleed. He wouldn't take it to extremes. But they owed at least a good month of free labor. Wukong looked over Mengai and frowned, he did not like the worry clouding his assistant's face. Wukong approached the black-furred monkey and flicked his forehead. “Don't worry about it, you silly Mengmeng. I'm the one who'll handle the court.”

Mengai scowled and rubbed his forehead, eyebrow twitching in annoyance. That was more like it. Wukong's gaze fell on his assistant's ears, his hand twitched, he wanted to cradle them. But he stopped himself. “Are your ears okay?” Whispered the bimawen.

“They're ringing a bit.” Sighed the black-furred monkey. “But it's okay.”

Wukong hummed. Eyes still fixed on Mengai's ears. His assistant noticed his insistent look and sighed, he turned and presented his neck, an invitation at grooming. Wukong huddled closer, he raised one hand and tentatively put it on Mengai's shoulder. Slowly, he began to smooth out his assistant's fur. There was something electric about touching Mengai. Wukong wasn't one to be nervous. In truth, he never truly felt nervous until now. Everytime he touched the other, his skin tingled, his stomach churned and an eruption of giddiness burst out inside of him. It was unnerving yet comforting. In truth, even if he glued the word love on each of these feelings, it didn't truly describe them all. It was more of a blend of so many different emotions, of so many sensations. Fondness. Tenderness. Comfortability. Nervosity. Trust. Softness. Slowness. Haven. Electrical. Tingling. Eruptive. Giddiness. Excitement. Care. Warmth. So many feelings all colliding under the name of love.

“I'll teach you self-defense.” Hummed Wukong as he untied a particularly tight knot on Mengai's shoulder. His assistant perked up, curious.

“Why suddenly?”

“Because I want to and it'll serve you.” Replied the bimawen. This was a fierce world. He was lucky to be born with might flowing in his veins. Mengai needed to be able to protect himself. He was crafty. Intelligent. Good at imitating. But this was the world of gods. Strength was all that was left under the glare of a divine enemy. “If you want to…” Added Wukong after he realized how… forceful his earlier statement could sound like.

“Well, I'm not going to say no when you offer like that.” Snorted Mengai. “Besides, who could refuse a lesson from the great bimawen?”

Wukong frowned at the tease, he had the sudden urge to pinch Mengai's ears, but he stopped himself, those pretty ears suffered enough today. He truly was a magnanimous boss.

“You should get out of the bath.” Muttered Wukong, his assistant's voice was getting more and more slurred, even the tips of his ears were beginning to redden.

“Nonsense.” Huffed Mengai, unwilling to admit he was getting drowsy.

Wukong rolled his eyes, he waited a few more hours until Mengai truly couldn't stand anymore. Then he picked up his assistant and sat him outside of the tub. He tenderly cladded him in towels. Mengai's face was all red, his eyes glazed over by the steam. He looked silly.

“You Mengmeng.” Chuckled Wukong as he carefully dried his assistant.

***

The Treasure Hall of Divine Mists was filled to the brim with numerous Constellations and Star Spirits. It wasn't everyday that the bimawen, known for his volatile character, demanded an audience. The news traveled far and wide in every corner of the Region. Soon, the Hall was flooded with all sorts of faces. From measle spirits to mighty gods. The Jade Emperor sat on his throne of gold, face as unbothered as an oiled sea, yet who knew what storms laid in his heart? His prized advisor, the Gold Star of Venus, stood at his side, his sharp eyebrows pinched in worry.

If there was one thing Heaven couldn't control, it was their good-natured bimawen.

Under the throne’s thick shadow sit two deities. The ones to be judged. On one side stood the revered Yellow Emperor. His long legs were crossed gracefully, his golden robes glistening under the Hall's lanterns. His face was sharp yet inexplicably tender. His hands were as pale as marble, put elegantly on his peeking knee. He looked almost perfect, if one ignored the way his eyes reddened when they crossed with his enemy. On the other side stood the feared God of War. He was reclining on his chair, his numerous heads displaying various levels of boredom. His hands were sharpened like a lion's claws, they had the luster of the blade.

Silence prevailed in the Hall. None dared to speak. But all wondered where their bimawen was? Where was the one who caused this? The doors creaked. They slammed open, letting light flood in. Wukong strolled in, unbothered. He frowned when he noticed the lack of presence at his side, he looked behind him and patiently waited for Mengai to catch up. His assistant hesitated. Not knowing if he had the right to stand beside his superior. Wukong waited, not wanting to move one inch further without Mengai at his side.

The black-furred monkey sighed, reluctantly, he walked by Wukong instead of following his shadow. The bimawen huffed, satisfied. They both stood in the throne’s shadows, each and every pair of eyes was on them. Piercing their very beings. The silence was veiling all in its tight, suffocating embrace. The Jade Emperor straightened. His eyes were serene, like the unbothered surface of a lake, yet his lips were ever so slightly pursued, betraying his inner feelings. He raised one hand, holding every breath on the tips of his fingers, and let if fall on his throne’s armrest.

“For what reasons did you seeked an audience, bimawen.” His voice echoed all around the Hall, thundering between all bodies. Wukong was unaffected. He callously greeted the Emperor with a nod, not bothering with the necessary pageantries, before cutting right at the heart of the matter.

“I seek retributions.” Huffed the blonde-furred monkey. He allowed his assistant to cower behind his back. He knew how… intimidating the situation could be and as much as he wanted his assistant to be at his side, it wasn't at the price of his comfort. If he had to be Mengai's shield then so be it. As long as the black-furred monkey was at ease he didn't mind.

The Gold Star of Venus's mouth twitched in annoyance, it's not as if Wukong was wrong to seek justice, but they all knew (considering their bimawen's character) that his demands would most likely be incredibly hard to meet. Truly. The Star Spirit couldn't help but glare at the two responsible for this mess. If they simply kept their sword's sheathed, none of this would have happened. He could only hope for the bimawen's mercy. If this affair was aggravated, it'll be one more headache to solve.

“For what, precisely ?” Asked the Jade Emperor. It was expected in any trials to go back on the events. This case was no different.

“They barged in my domain, disrupted the stables and wounded my assistant.” Wukong crossed his arms, chin lifted as high as possible.

“With all due respect, bimawen, we never pointed our swords towards your assistant.” Replied Huangdi, his voice as cold as ice itself. Chiyou nodded in agreement. For once they were both on the same wavelength.

“You made his precious ears bleed.” Huffed Wukong. Mengai buried himself in his hands, embarrassed by the sudden praise.

“Were any substantial damages caused?” Inquired the Jade Emperor.

“I already told you what happened.” Replied Wukong. He wasn't about to let it slide. And they should know better than to expect him to stay silent.“This is my assistant we're talking about. His tears are like my own. His orders are like my own. His wounds are like my own. When he bleeds, I bleed.” His voice echoed all around the Hall. Various spirits blushed at his confession while others giggled at his audacity. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Laozi leisurely fanning himself, looking as if he heard something particularly amusing. Wukong paid the crowd no mind.

“So what do you propose, bimawen?” Sighed the Jade Emperor. Wukong smiled. Ah. Now they were talking!

“They owe me one month of free labor. They'll be under my assistant's orders.” Proudly huffed Wukong. Both Chiyou and Huangdi sprang on their feet, indigned. Mengai blinked in surprise, not expecting that.

“I'm sorry for barging in your territory like that, bimawen, but what we've done don't really warrant this.” Pleaded Chiyou. Being under another order, especially an assistant's, was a great wound on a God's pride. Both the Yellow Emperor and the God of War were unwilling to lower themselves so much. Especially since they'll have to work together. Under the same roof.

“I am being lenient, here. If you don't accept my mercy I am more than willing to punish you both in other, less merciful, ways.” Wukong smiled. His fangs glistening dangerously under the Hall's luster. No matter how comfortable he was in his position of bimawen, he was still ruthless by nature. Blood didn't frighten him.

“Will you let this matter go if we agree to let both the Yellow Emperor and the God of War serve your assistant for one month?” Asked the Jade Emperor. Wukong nodded. The Emperor put a finger on his chin, gaze lost in thoughts. He leaned over his advisor and exchanged a few words. “Then it is settled. In one week. Both the Yellow Emperor and the God of War are to be placed under the bimawen's assistant order, and as such for one month.”

“Your majesty!” Refuted the Yellow Emperor.

“Surely you are joking.” Roared the God of War.

“The matter is close. It is not the first time your incessant fights disrupt our peace, let this serve as a lesson for the both of you.” Dismissed the Jade Emperor. None dared to speak against him. His words were always final.

Wukong left the Hall with a joyous sway of hips. This went well. His assistant hurried to catch up to him.

“Are you sure this was a good idea?” Whispered Mengai as they left the palace.

“They got what they deserved.” Huffed Wukong.

“But they're gods and I'm just an-” Wukong cut him before he could end his sentence. Ah. This self-depreciating idiot. Luckily, he had this mighty bimawen to remind him of his worth.

“And you're my assistant. As long as I'm here, they're not allowed to look down on you.” Stated Wukong. Mengai flinched, surprised by the confession, but soon enough his lips stretched in a soft smile. Wukong was satisfied with the sight. He then remembered he never got the chance to tell Mengai about his recent discovery at Yuelao's. “Also, I love you. Now come, hurry, we have to celebrate this successful trial with fresh wine and fruits!” Wukong hurried down the palace’s stairs, already salivating at the thought of their newly made wine.

“Wine sounds good, I wonder how it'll taste–wait what? You love me!?” Squeaked the black-furred monkey.

“Hurry you Mengmeng!” Complained the bimawen. His assistant had no choice but to hurry after him, leaving aside his shocking confession, for now.

+ some vocabulary

Huangdi also known as the Yellow Emperor is a legendary figure from ancient Chinese history, revered as one of the Five Emperors and considered one of the founders of Chinese civilization. He is both a cultural hero and a semi-historical ruler. In fact, he is considered to be the ancestor of the Han.

The battle of Chiyou (God of War) and Huangdi (Yellow Emperor) is a founder myth of Chinese mythology, in short it symbolizes the triumph of civilization over chaos and war, in fact Huangdi victory can be seen as the birth of civilization.

Lianghu : popular dice game in the Tang era

In Chinese mythology, Yuelao is the god of marriage and love, but Tu’er Shen (also known as the rabbit god) is the one overseeing same-sex relationships, in particular between men. I'll let you all think why Wukong picked up a rabbit, 👀

Jin : traditional Chinese measurement, 1 jin in the past was roughly equivalent to 0.5 kilograms (or about 1.1 pounds). 13,500 jin×0.5 kg per jin=6,750 kg. So, 6,750 kilograms or about 14,880 pounds.

Ch1 / Previous / Next

[pygmi-cygni]

Product Maintenance

cw: non-sexual physical intimacy, massage, innuendo, fluff, nathan behavior, pining, way too long, kissing, gn reader

summary: Nathan needs a back massage and you are all too happy to help.

Nathan gets cranky when he's uncomfortable. Sick, injured, even stubbing his toe sends his grumpiness up to eleven. You know to back off on those days, sticking to your room and giving him ample space to lick his wounds in brooding privacy.

But, you can't help but feel a little sorry for him.

It's been a particularly stressful few weeks for Nathan. His newest algorithm application to BlueBook was patented on Thursday, and he'd been in back-to-back board meetings and feedback conferences since. AKA, his least favorite way to experience his least favorite kinds of people.

Being around him in this state was unbearable. He never spoke, but if he did it was cutting and cruel. It wasn't personal - just letting off steam, but you couldn't help but flinch when he turned his strung-out gaze on you.

He'd been spending long nights in his gym, the heavy thud thud thud-thud-thud of his fists against the sandbag a dull metronome to your restless sleep. He was in great shape, but you could tell something was bothering him.

You eyed him over the rim of your coffee mug as he hunched over his laptop on the sofa. His posture was...awful, to say the least. The bunched muscles in his back looked angry even from your position. Probably wasn't helping his tension headache, either.

Setting your mug down with a quiet clink, you padded over until your hand hovered over his shoulder.

"Nathan?"

He ignored you, taking a drink of his wine and tapping out another line of code. Then, swearing and deleting half the page.

A bad time, definitely. But you wanted to help.

"Nath-"

"Busy," he snapped, strong fingers flexing on the table. "Just forward it to my inbox."

You pursed your lips and waited for him to settle. The tense, ugly energy pouring out of him in droves was making your own mood sour. It was near eleven p.m, and he had a meeting at seven sharp the next morning. God forbid he stay up too late, or he'd be a nightmare tomorrow. Good luck, you mentally wished the future patrons.

When you didn't move, he sighed heavily and stood, folding his arms to look at you. Momentarily you balked. He was intimidating in the low light, brow dark and heavy.

"Well?"

"I..." you trailed off, reconsidering. Was this inappropriate? Until now, your relationship had been purely professional, but..well, you supposed-

His darkening mood forced you to persevere. The only thing worse than interrupting Nathan with a dumb idea was interrupting him for no good reason.

"I wanted to help," you blurted. "You look...uncomfortable."

His jaw ticked as he let out a slow, nasal exhale. "Uncomfortable."

"Your back. You're sitting funny. Like, twisted, and, um," you trailed off, wilting under his encompassing gaze. It felt like being a bug under a glass; watching helplessly as someone much bigger and stronger carefully pulled you apart like it was nothing. The gears in his head were turning and you wished to know how badly he wanted to punch you. Maybe you could defend yourself.

"This can't wait?" He asked bitterly, gaze flicking back to his blinking cursor.

"I mean- well, it's...it's late, and you have a meeting-"

"I don't need a nanny," he said condescendingly, downing the rest of his alcohol. "If it's past your bedtime, you can go night-night, but the big kids need a minute to-"

"Fuck you, Nathan, it'll only take a minute and you can go back to failing miserably at...that thing," his brows skyrocketed at your outburst, "and you're the one tantruming. Grown-up grape juice does not detract from your toddler-ness." Sniffing, you plucked the empty wineglass from his hand and set in on the table.

He looked a bit smaller, for a moment, before sliding his metal walls back in place.

"I can...help with the muscle aches," you said, softer this time. "Just a massage thing my mom used to do. Here, sit-"

You cleared a space on the crowded couch and tried not to look terrified of Nathan's casually intense scowl. Eyeing you irritably, he sat down and waited with his elbows on his knees. As gently and not-awkwardly as possible, you slid behind him and sandwiched him between your thighs. Realizing the impropriety, you slid up to your knees, cheeks flaming. Nathan was still stoic as a mountain.

"It might hurt a bit, but bear with me," you murmured, laying your hands on the base of his neck. His skin was warm and delectably smooth under your fingertips. You shivered and tried not to let your heart eyes explode.

Firmly, you dug your thumb into the knot at his nape. Nathan seized and groaned loudly, hand reaching back and squeeze your calf. Biting back a swear word, you waited for him to calm down before continuing to stroke his shoulders.

"Oh shit," he swore, jaw clenching against the intense relief.

The sheer mass of muscle on his back was amazing. you kneaded as gently as you could, but Nathan still panted heavily and groaned with every pull. Your forearms were burning from the effort.

"Here, I'll go easy," you said gently. You stopped kneading and just ran your palms over his broad back, smoothing away the knots and tension. Nathan had gone limp, leaning forward with a drunk expression on his face.

"Feels...fffuckin' great," he slurred, grunting when you rubbed a particularly sore spot. Preening, you shuffled off the couch and grabbed your coffee.

"Well, good luck on your-"

"Where the fuck are you going?" he snapped, blissful reverie broken.

Surprised, you paused. The air had shifted dizzingly fast. At first his armor was thick enough to repel gravity, and now he was fully disarmed, soft pink interior vulnerable for all to feel. Specifically, for you to feel.

"I...figured you'd wanna work," you said meekly. The few feet you suddenly created between you gave him time to don that armor again, scowling and turning sharply away.

A dismissive grunt, and you knew this meeting was over.

It eased your soul a bit when you saw his posture relax and he headed off to bed a few minutes later. At least it helped.

He got a bit greedy after that. Dragging you over when he had a moment of spare time, pawing for your hands to relieve the stress in his back.

After a few days, your biceps were stronger and he moved much easier. Limber as a rag, no longer hunched and straining. He liked them before bed, so he could nod off on the couch, soothed by your gentle breathing and warm hands on his skin.

The next time he had a stressful week, you did it without asking. Grabbed some oils, a hot towel, and smoothed away his irritation. On those days, Nathan demanded you stay until he fell asleep. Leave on the light.

Something about the dark, you figured. No matter, you'd stand guard. He slept sounder that way.

It had been a clusterfuck of a day. Your evaluations were scheduled all in the afternoon, leaving you rushing between video meetings and scrambling to pull up all the files in time. Nathan's insistence you help him in the lab was also nagging on your brain.

With your last meeting completed, you dropped your head on your desk and sighed. Sighing, you thought, was an underrated therapy. it felt good to just....whoosh it all out. Nathan chided you constantly for being 'childish'. He, clearly, had never experienced the relief of a Deep Sigh.

Rubbing your tired forehead, you trudged over to the lab to help the weirdo genius with his latest creation.

When he immediately launched into a detailed explanation of the fibrous wiring designed for the inner membranes of his androids, you vividly understood why socializing was low on his list of favorite activities.

"Hey."

His tone made you jolt, blinking away the brain fog. The bright fluorescents nearly blinded you into a migraine. Wincing, you tried to maintain eye contact.

"What's wrong with you? You're acting like a fuckin' weirdo," he asked, setting down his prototype. You waved him off. Don't piss him off, you've only been here thirty seconds.

"Nothing, just...tired," you said, restraining yourself from letting out a big sigh. He appraised you for a minute, then continued his rambling.

You did notice, though, that he lowered his voice and the lights dimmed to a comfortable level. He handed you...something, with the express purpose of don't fucking move unless I tell you, and then moved on to a separate project.

Your brain took the opportunity to zone out. He'd disappeared from your line of sight, and everything swam together in a hazy golden puree. Felt nice, to black out for a b-

"Ay!" Something dug into the middle of your bag, and you jolted, almost dropping his thing. Nathan griped and took the synthetic skeleton, steadying you with one hand and setting down the project with the other.

"Woah, hey, jesus," he breathed, "I...fuck, I was just helping your back. Take a breather. Goddamn you almost...fuck," he muttered excuses, dragging a hand through his beard.

Headache revamped, you groaned and massaged your temples. Would this day ever end?

Nathan's warmth came a little closer, and a big hand settled over one of yours. "Don't move," he murmured, "and don't freak out."

Your natural instinct, of course, was to do both of those things, but a gentle pressure over your sinuses made your thoughts zap into the void. He gently massaged your sinuses with his thumbs, coaxing the tension out of your forehead and melting the achiness away.

A weak groan fell from your lips. That felt so nice. Your posture swayed as he dragged his hands down, rubbing circles into your cheeks as his palms cradled your jaw. You were hung by his hands, dangling above an ocean of calm. The lab lights dimmed further, until it resembled dusk.

"Better?" At your nod, Nathan patted your face and reached for a sticky note. "Here. Do this. Get out of my lab."

You shuffled backwards, reeling from the backhanded chain of events.

Sleep, his scrawl instructed, and gimme a massage at 8.

That, you could do.

Nathan's weight dipped your mattress too soon. The cradle of sleep dropped you on your head, and you woke with a sigh. He sat, expectantly, as you put a towel to steam and grabbed some oil.

"Lay down," you mumbled, rubbing sleep crust from your eyes. He did so with a flourish, folding your pillow under his forearms and settled on his stomach. Nathan had stripped off his shirt already, tan skin flexing and glowing in the dim light of your bedroom.

You started at his shoulders. His joints popped quietly as you pulled and kneaded, a tiny groan of relief with every alignment. Nathan shuddered when you dragged a firm elbow down his spine. His muscles tensed and shivered. You grinned when he collapsed into a syrupy blob.

"Roll over," you instructed, retrieving the towel. He stretched languidly when you wrapped it around his neck and shoulders, moaning rather obscenely.

You avoided the obvious tent in his pants and ran your hand over his pecs. Natural reaction.

"Fuck, who taught you this," he said thickly. "A fuckin...witch or some shit?"

"My ex," you said off-handedly, digging your thumb into a particularly deep knot under his ribs. He yelped and twitched, gaze never leaving your face.

"How'd- shit- how'd he know?"

You shrugged, applying another palmful of oil to his skin. He looked unfairly appetizing like this, shining and perfect and very sculpted. Your cheeks heated and you prayed the low light covered your tracks.

Hey, he was the one with a hard on.

Nathan's heated gaze traced your strong arms as they kneaded into his thighs. His broken sounds were louder, by no accident. You tuned him out the best you could, mentally playing your favorite album.

"You're fucking unreal," he breathed after a tough knot subsided, "shouldn't...hnng easy, christ- shouldn't be just..." he gripped the mattress when you rolled out his calve, jaw clenched tight enough to shatter marble.

You raised an eyebrow and moved to the other leg. "Ticklish?"

"Hah no, just, sensitiiiiive," he gritted out, digging his heel into the comforter. You giggled to yourself and kept massaging the bottom of his feet, relishing in the theatrical expressions across his usually stoic face.

"You were saying something?"

"F...ffforget it," he groaned. He reached out and grabbed the plushness of your thigh to brace himself.

"Almost done," you soothed.

You gently removed the hot towel and caressed the dampness into his skin. His face was blissfully neutral. Your fingers traveled to massage behind his ear, earning a quiet keen of satisfaction.

It was a heavy burden, to be in charge of soothing his aches. Nathan had many chinks in his armor, some that dug harder than most. He did an admirable job of hiding them, but everybody broke down at some point. You felt proud that he trusted you enough to coax him into a softer set, made of sentimentality rather than hard aloofness.

His dark eyes searched your face while you put your things away. You sat by his head, cross-legged and avoiding him. The heat of his expression burned your back. Still, you refused to show your belly, resiliently maintaining your neutrality.

A warm grip on your thigh.

Slowly, you turned. Nathan was looking openly at you, so shockingly pure that for a moment, your breath caught. You swallowed.

"Can I-"

He surged upwards and caught your lips on his. Sweetly, gently. He was holding back; you felt it in his tenseness. The warmth of his mouth flushed pink across your face as your tongues lapped gently.

At your reciprocation, he deepened the kiss, licking hard into your mouth. Need, his hands begged, gripping onto your waist. But he batted your hand away when you reached for him. He didn't need to be squeezed, or fucked. He shakily dragged your hand to cradle his cheek.

Held. He needed to be held. To be reminded of the softness of his extremities, and the humanity that still lived in the cavern of his chest. You did not view him as an android, but as a man, and one that needed ample cajoling to show his heart, but it still beat strongly.

You traced kisses on his cheek, gently scruffing his beard. He settled near the junction of your throat, eyes closed against the onslaught of intimacy.

Heart buzzing, you petted his stubbly scalp. Whatever he'd started blossomed and grew between you, drawing your skin closer until he laid atop you. Your hands resumed their travel, smoothing out the creases in his forehead and the remaining uncertainty in his strength.

"Talk," he demanded quietly, holding you tighter. Humming, you thought to his schedule.

"You have a board meeting tomorrow," you whispered, brushing your fingers over his cheek, "and lunch with the director at nine..." Nathan huffed frustratedly and pressed against your hand. Smiling faintly, you moved to caress his beard.

"And...hm, I think that's all until Wednesday," you finished, hands laying still and soft against his chest. He basked in your touch for a few moments before cuddling a bit closer, a brawny forearm tucking up against your waist.

"Add...one of those back massage things in there somewhere," he mumbled, "mm...maybe one with the towels. Fuck yeah, a hot towel, please," he groaned when you kneaded a knuckle at the sore spot on his neck.

"Nathan Bateman, using his manners," you chided playfully. "Thought I'd never see the day." He grunted again but left you alone. The neutrality of his demeanor made you grin in surprise. The big, scary bear had tamed into a little cub, curled up for a nap.

"Okay, a hot towel, maybe some head rubs?" You mused, trailing a soft pinkie over his ear. He purred, like an honest to god cat, and you mentally added that to the list.

The sight of Nathan, spread out and pliant in your lap, dressed in soft sweats and practically eating out of your hand was something you wished you could frame. Like a trophy. Proof that underneath all of the cologne and arrogance, he was still a man.

"And then...I'll make dinner," you continued. He nodded, urging you to continue stroking his head, "then we can watch something, and...ooh, shave your beard off, or dye it purple," you slid a side eye at him at that one, but he was still blissfully smiling at nothing. Snorting, you fished your phone out of your pocket and snapped a quick photo.

"Cutie," you mumbled, dropping a kiss onto his nose. "Now scoot over, you're the little spoon tonight."

He obliged and you burrowed down next to him, content to bury your hands in the soft firmness of his chest and let his heartbeat pull you out to the restful sea.

tags! comment to join, and thanks for reading!

@krakenkitty @ominoose @bulletgoth @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @justsomeonecalledemma

@iolaussharpe-24 @rosegnome @twwcs @heeheehoohoofictimr @steven-grants-world

@ael-xander @to-be-a-sunshine @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @silvernight-m @lonelyisamyw-0love 

@unear7hly @chaithetics @ominoose

[ghostly--photography]

Chicago Nights, Love’s Light| C. Bedard

Warnings - smut, kissing, f! receiving oral, p in v, wrap it before you tap it

Word Count - 1k

The chilly Chicago evening wrapped around the cozy townhouse like a blanket, muffling the distant cheers from the United Center where the Blackhawks had just won for the third time in a row. Inside, the warm glow of the living room lights spilled out into the hallway, casting a soft halo around your figure as you anxiously awaited the return of your beloved boyfriend, Connor Bedard. Your heart fluttered with excitement as you heard the crunch of gravel under tires and the subsequent purr of his car's engine dying down. The front door swung open, and in stepped Connor, the icy breeze from outside carrying with it the scent of victory. He looked at you, his eyes alight with the same passion that had fueled his performance on the ice, and a smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

"Hey, babe," he greeted his voice a comforting rumble as he shed his heavy winter coat, revealing the crisp white button-up of his game-day suit. "Missed me?"

You couldn't help but laugh, your smile matching his brilliance. "Only every second," you teased, stepping closer to him and sliding your arms around his waist. His strong hands found their way to your shoulders, and you felt the warmth of his palms seep through your thin sweater, sending delightful shivers down your spine.

Connor leaned in, his breath a gentle whisper against your ear. "Then I'd say we have some catching up to do."

Without missing a beat, Connor scooped you up into his arms, your legs naturally wrapping around his waist. Your laughter filled the room as he carried you down the hallway, his grip tightening and his eyes never leaving yours. The intensity of his gaze sent a thrill through you, hinting at the passion that lay just beneath the surface of his professional demeanor. You felt your cheeks flush as he kicked open the bedroom door with his foot. He gently laid you on the bed, his movements deliberate and purposeful, as he leaned over to capture your lips in a deep, lingering kiss that spoke volumes of his desire for you. 

Connor's fingertips traced the line of your jaw, his touch sending waves of heat through your body. He gently tugged at the hem of your sweater, peeling it away to reveal the lacy bra beneath. His eyes darkened with appreciation as he took in the sight of you, all soft curves and eager anticipation. "You're so beautiful," he murmured against your skin, his voice a warm caress that sent your heart racing. You reached up to unbutton his shirt, your hands trembling slightly with excitement. Each button released felt like a small victory, revealing the taut muscles of his chest and the smattering of freckles you had come to cherish. He leaned back, allowing you to remove the shirt completely, and you couldn't help but run your fingers over the ridges of his abs, feeling the warmth and strength beneath. His hands found their way to your waist, unhooking your bra with a practiced ease that made you feel both desired and cherished. The fabric fell away, and his gaze devoured the sight of your bare breasts, the tip of his tongue darting out to wet his lips in anticipation. He lowered his mouth to kiss the sensitive skin just above your collarbone, and your breath hitched, the sweet agony of his touch making you arch into him. 

Connor's kisses grew more insistent, his lips moving from your collarbone to the curve of your neck, making you shiver with delight. His hands slid down to your hips, deftly unbuttoning your jeans before working them down your legs, leaving you in nothing but your favorite pair of black lace panties. The sight of him, fully dressed yet completely focused on you, sent a thrill down your spine. His eyes never left yours as he traced the lace with a finger, teasing the sensitive skin beneath. With a smoldering look, he whispered, "I can't wait to make you feel as amazing as you look right now." Your pulse quickened as he slid your panties aside, his touch tender yet firm as he explored the damp heat between your thighs. The world outside ceased to exist, and all that mattered was the warmth of his mouth and the gentle pressure of his fingers as they worked in tandem to coax a soft moan from your lips. Your hands found their way into his hair, gripping tightly as the sensation grew more intense, your body moving in time with his rhythm. The anticipation grew unbearable, your breaths coming in shallow gasps as he brought you closer to the edge. Just as the first tremor of pleasure began to ripple through you, he paused, his eyes questioning. "Are you ready?" he murmured. With a nod, you whispered, "Yes," and he claimed your mouth once more, his tongue mimicking the dance his fingers had started, sending you spiraling. 

Encouraged by your response, Connor's passion grew more fervent. He kissed you deeply, his hands sliding under your thighs to lift them slightly, making you more accessible to him. His tongue delved into your mouth as his fingers continued to explore, bringing you to the peak of pleasure once again. With a low groan, he broke the kiss, his eyes smoldering with desire as he removed his clothes, revealing the powerful physique that had carried him to victory on the ice. He slid his boxers down, his erection standing proud and ready for you. Positioning himself at your entrance, he paused for a moment, looking into your eyes and asking, "Are you sure?" At your nod, he pushed into you slowly, filling you completely, drawing a gasp from your lips.

 Each thrust brought with it a new wave of pleasure, the intensity building until you were both lost in a symphony of sensation. His eyes never left yours, the love and passion in them a mirror to the emotions coursing through you. The world around you faded away as you moved together in perfect harmony, climbing higher and higher until the crescendo of your shared release shattered through the quiet, leaving you both breathless and utterly spent in the aftermath of your passionate reunion.

With the final echoes of your cries still hanging in the air, Connor pulled you into his embrace, his strong arms wrapping around your trembling body as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear. Your breaths melded into his, synchronizing as your heart rates gradually slowed. You felt his warmth seep into your skin, the softness of the bed beneath you a stark contrast to the fervent energy that had just consumed you both. His kisses grew softer, peppering your cheeks and neck with affection as his hands caressed your bare back, tracing the outline of your spine with a gentle touch that sent aftershocks of pleasure through your core. With a content sigh, you snuggled closer into his arms.  The world outside could wait; for now, the only thing that mattered was the love and warmth you shared in the sanctuary of your bed, the sweet victory of your intimate connection far more satisfying than any win on the ice could ever be.

[may3505noods]

I've got nothing to hide, fuck it, off anon.

What I would do to you if I ever caught you walking in the dark all on your own.

I would follow you for about 10 - 15 minutes, wait until you hit a dark spot in the street with no lights, I would rush up closer behind you and grab you by the throat, putting my hand over your mouth and pull you into a dark alleyway. pushing you up against the wall of a building pressing my body against yours squeezing my hand on your throat alittle more to make sure you understand that I'm not messing around, with burning passion in my eyes I would say in a deep low voice in your ear "You scream you die, you understand?" I would then squeeze your throat a little tighter to make sure I got a response out of you.

Providing that you nodded and said yes, I would then take my hand from your mouth and loosen my grip on your throat and back up enough to grab your tank top and rip it from your shoulders making sure that both of your breasts are bare and free for me to grab, twist your nipples and tug on. I would slide my hand down ripping your shirt off as my hand makes its way down to your pajama pants.

As this is happen, I would be saying in a low husky voice "Good girl, You like being used don't you" more so a statement less of a question

As my hand snakes down your torso grabbing and lightly pressing my nail into your nipple making sure you feel the pain of what I'm doing. I would grab and pull on your breasts. my hand reaching your waistband pulling at it before I undo my belt and pull out my hard cock as I take my other hand ripping down your pajama pants and underwear in one swift motion leaving you standing there with your shirt ripped to pieces and your pants and underwear down around your ankles

I take a step back to admire my handy work saying "Don't make me chase you, you will not like it if I have to chase you little whore". before grabbing your arm and forcing you to turn around and face the wall slightly bent over just enough for me to be able to bend over and give a lick at your pussy before standing up and placing my cock at the entrance of your pussy and pushing your head into the wall while I force my cock deep into you.

I lean over your shoulder and say into your ear "You're such a dumb fucking whore walking in the dark all on your own" as I nip at your ear grunting.

After what feels like an eternity of roughly fucking you from behind I cum deep into you saying "and you better keep that cum inside of you" before pulling my pants up, giving your ass a very hard slap and tapping your pussy a couple of times before walking away like nothing happened leaving you there to cry and grovel about being absolutely destroyed.

Hm fuck that was so hot, I'd love to be raped by you, and the part where you licked my pussy before fucking me...fuck that was so hot, I loved every part of this, if only someone could actually do this to me already...

That's 5

[s0urcand1es]

[slvttyplum]

it was something about that cowboy hat that made you want to pounce on him and ride him like a bull, making suguru put on the hat every time he fucked you because it had you soaking up the sheets, and the waterfall between your thighs activate.

suguru's part-time volunteer gig required him to wear this hat, and you couldn't thank them enough because of how fine he looked whenever he slipped it on his head, especially with his long hair that hung below his waist.

he knew that he looked good, and he took advantage of that whenever he laid eyes on you, knowing that your mouth got wet and that you drooled every time you looked at him in his fit, using the outfit and hat even when he didn't have to volunteer to have your mouth wet to put right on his dick.

suguru loved to make you weak in the knees; he knew that without the outfit he still had you wrapped around his finger ready to get on your knees whenever he asked, but with this attire specifically and the way he looked with the hat on, he knew that you couldn't even think properly.

whispering in your ear while he was deep inside of you, rubbing his finger over your sensitive nipples, talking you through whatever he was doing to you, just for none of it to be received because of how good he felt inside of you and how the tingling that surged through your nipples made you forget your name.

making sure that his hat stayed on through every round he was folding you through, putting your legs every which way and pushing your thighs up so he could hit that sweet spot that he craved and sought for, one tap and it had your eyes sliding to the top of your head and your fingernails digging into his skin.

"you like that? can you hear me, baby?" whispering in your ear, and he groaned the deeper he got, your walls tightening around him, his dick wet with your wetness, making sure to go faster so that he could hear how good he made you feel, with the sounds your body made and the sweet sounds that fell from your lips.

even when you were the one to pounce on him and initiate things with the way you were dripping out your shorts, he still found a way to take control, to make sure you felt so good that you couldn't even move; just feel the pleasurable tingles all over your body and throughout your wet hole that he carved out to his shape.

he was a generous man though, letting you get on top of him and ride him through the mattress until you were tired and out of breath, laid over him; that didn't stop him; he always needed you twenty times more than you needed him, and the fact that you took initiative when it came to fucking him turned him on, lifting his hips and fucking you until his body gave out.

your moans and his groans bouncing off of each other and his cum dripping out of you, a loud sticky mess that he never got tired of, which is why the hat never came off; he wanted to see that eagerness in your eye light up; he loved every minute of it.

[sonarspace]

snip, snip, snip

synopsis: giving a trim to your boyfriend turns into something more. wc: 2.7k pairings: choso x reader. geto x reader. nanami x reader. content: MDNI. smut (unprotected sex, cowgirl (choso), bow pose (geto), oral - fem!receiving, fingering, creampie, messy kisses) just lots of nsfw 😭 + not proofread as usual a/n: missed y’all!! have no idea what i wrote but i hope you enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it.

𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. choso kamo

"oww… fuck” you hear choso cuss from the bedroom. “are you okay?” you check in from the bathroom just having finished your night time routine. he walks in rubbing his eye, a tiny pout playin on his lips “i think there’s something in my eye, it hurts,” he whines.

“let me see,” you say. he bends down and moves closer to your face. you notice the whites of his eye are turned a shade of light red, probably from all the rubbing he’s been doing. he hisses as you spot a short strand of hair in his lower lid and pull it out. “it’s hair,” you place it in his palm. “probably from your bangs,” you add on. his pout grows and he stares at the strand in silence for a minute before he asks “can you cut them?”

he sits on a stool in front of the mirror, a bashful smile on his lips. you place a cloth on the floor to catch the hair and wrap another around his neck.

you quickly brush his hair and separate the bangs. he grabs your waist and pulls you in closer when you start cutting his bangs. distracted by the night gown under your robe he starts squirming to get a closer look.

“choso!” you yelp when you feel him kiss over your clothed boob. “sorry,” he bashes his eyelashes at you. “sit still or i’ll mess up” you scold him.

he scoffs in return. you reach up to snip a few stray strands of hair that are in front of his face, and align them with a cute pout of concentration on your face. his eyes remain fixed on you, silently observing your every move, while his heart is filled with an array of intense emotions that overwhelm him. his grip on your waist tightens.

your eyes slowly shift from his freshly trimmed bangs to meet his gaze and a gentle smile curves up the corner of your lips. he pulls you closer — his hand deftly undoes the knot on your robe.

the fabric falls open, revealing a blue silk slip with lace detail covering your cleavage and his breath hitches. your heart begins to race at the anticipation of his next move.

"choso.." you feel his hand inch higher under your slip. you squeeze his shoulders when his finger trace your flimsy panties — a light sheen of your need coats his finger. you unwrap the cloth from around his neck, and he quickly stands up. he taps the back of your thighs, signaling you to jump into his arms.

he walks over to the bed and sits down with you on top. “fuck me,” he whispers as his lips brush over yours. your slip’s moved up and bunched around your thighs as you start grinding on his hardening cock.

he hums into the kiss — satisfied by the little bit of friction. you move a hand to in his hair, tugging at the strands to stop his movements.

he pulls back with a grin. you kiss a path from his jaw down to his neck and suck at the flesh on his throat. he lets out a deep groan as you wrap a hand around his throat and push him to lie down on his back.

you quickly push down his pants and his dick springs out and hits his abdomen. his tip’s a little red with pre-cum leaking. you rub the pre cum up and down his dick — prepping it to be inside you.

his breathing grows erratic and he tries to keep his moans quiet. you lace your fingers with his, near his head and he turns to give it a sweet peck. you both gasp in unison as you slide down his slicked length. his other grips your waist tighter — probably leaving a bruise.

your wetness makes it easy to move up and down his cock. “you can be loud baby,” you groan breathlessly and he immediately lets out a whine as if he was waiting for your permission.

at this angle his cock was hitting all the right spots in you. he wraps a hand around your throat and pulls you down for a messy kiss. his tongue laps at yours and he sucks at your bottom lip before finally letting you go.

he pulls down the straps of your slip still shielding your boobs from his lustful eyes. he gulps at the view from below. silently thanking whatever higher power led you to him and allowed him to experience this moment of utter bliss and pleasure.

you place your hands on his chest and pick up the pace. pussy clamping down on his cock – creating a circle of white around his length.

he notices you slow down as your thighs burn from the movement. “come on, baby. don’t stop now,” he urges you. his hips buck up into yours and you moan in surprise “ahh fuck”. his hands move under your ass to help you keep going.

your head falls into his neck as he keeps fucking into you from underneath. “i’m close” he pants. you bite his shoulder as your orgasm rushes through you, too blissed out to warn him but he notices anyway. his hand moves from under your ass to rubbing your back. soothing you from your high.

and he comes right after with a loud moan of your name. you hum satisfied at the feeling of his cum filling you completely.

suguru geto

he’s sitting on a stool facing the bathroom mirror as you stand behind him, trimming the ends of his hair.

and when you finally move in front of him to cut his front pieces, he keeps trying to put his hand under your shirt. you smack his hand away and he sits there with a pout and you immediately feel bad.

“sorry,” you say meekly. he doesn’t respond instead he looks down at his lap. “suguru,” you call out to him but he ignores you.

“suguru,” you try again but he doesn’t reply. you sigh and continue your task. you move behind him once you’re done and he smiles at you through the mirror, “thank you for the haircut, baby”.

a little confused at the change in his mood, you lean down to give him a quick peck when he looks up at you expectantly. his tongue pokes out and traces your lips and over your chin. you giggle when his tongue moves towards the underside of your jaw. you walk back to the bedroom and he shrugs off the hair and follows you. he spreads your legs and lays atop you. his tongue meshes with yours and your boobs buck up into his chest. he smiles against your lips, pulling back to admire your sprawled out figure.

he bunches up your shirt and places it in your mouth. "can you stay like this for me?" he asks in a hushed tone. you nod and he laughs under his breath as he hears a muffled yes. he places kisses over the expanse of your body and moves between your legs.

he holds eye contact as he pushes your panties to the side. you shudder when he spreads your lips and inserts a finger in you. his gaze moves down to your hole sucking him in desperately.

he leans to peck your clit once and then twice. his lips wrap around your clit, sucking it in slowly as he inserts a second finger into your needy cunt.

one second you’re whining at the way his mouth is making you feel and then before you can register the retraction of his mouth and fingers, you yelp a surprised whimper when you feel his hand come down at the flesh of your ass.

as you come down from the shock of the slap on your ass, you realize that he’s got you laying on your stomach.

you guess you should’ve known smacking his hand away earlier would have its consequences. however you didn’t mind this. his hand rubs soothingly at the reddened skin of your ass before another smack resounds throughout the room and you groan in slight pleasure.

“you like that, huh?” a lilt to his voice. “harder,” you mumble into the sheets. and he abides with your request. after all he’s gotta give you, whatever you ask for.

after two more hard spanks he moves over your legs. his hands rub at the flesh of your ass while he lines himself up with your hole. he rubs his cock head at your glistening pussy before he pushes in.

you gasp when you feel his hands pushing your legs up to hold himself steady as he starts fucking into you from behind. he keeps up a fast and hard pace that has your brain turning into mush. he gently puts your legs back down and you whimper at the mix of pleasure and pain you feel from having your legs up for so long.

he grabs your hips and slides a pillow under your stomach. you peek over your shoulder to catch a glimpse of him. his chest covered in a sheen of sweat and his breathing hard . you reach a hand behind which he immediately intertwines with his own.

he leans down on top of you, his weight heavy and comforting as he slows down the pace of his thrusts. your hair’s sticking to your face and your lip’s parted with drool slipping out of the side of your mouth. he chuckles at your fucked out state and gives you a quick peck.

he shifts his weight onto his other hand as he moves your joint fingers under your stomach and picks you up so you’re hovering over the sheets. “close sugu- ah” you moan as the angle has the head of his cock pressing against your g-spot. he kisses you deeply – tangling tongues together. you lull your tongue out every so slightly and he takes it as his cue to suck on it.

your tongue between his lips as he bobs his head and his thrusts have you turning into a blubbering mess of hmph’s and oh’s.

“go ahead and come for me, pretty girl”. he groans lowly in your ear. a rush of pleasure washes over you and you slump forward in his grip. he lets you lay back down on your stomach. he slows down his pace even more so you can ride out your high comfortably.

finally he pulls out and you turn around to lay on your back. his head falls back as he pumps his cock a few times and releases over your abdomen with a loud moan of your name.

kento nanami

you grow tired after hearing nanami complain several times about his recent grown out beard. “they gave me a weird look,” he huffs. “do you think it makes me look weird?” he asks you seriously.

“i think it looks sexy. but if you want i can make it lighter for you.” you offer and he nods promptly.

so now you’re sitting on the bathroom counter with nanami between your legs and his arms placed on either side of you.

he hands you the trimmer with a shorter guard, allowing you to trim most of his beard but still maintain some facial hair. you turn on the trimmer and start from his ears and work your way down with a gentle but firm pressure. with unwavering focus, you move the trimmer under his nose, over the corners of his mouth and under his chin as the hair falls to the floor.

he keeps his eyes on you the entire time. the way you squint your eyes to focus better. the way your face muscles tense when you reach higher. your lips parting slightly when you move the trimmer under his nose. his heart fills with love at seeing you do this for him with so much care and attention.

you finish it off with a clean edge and pull away to grab a razor. you get back to work and apply a lather of shaving cream and remove any hair you couldn’t get with the trimmer. you pull back and admire your handy work, “how does it look?” you ask him with a sweet grin.

in return he kisses you. you squeal as the shaving cream covers your face. you both laugh as you help each other wash off the shaving cream.

you wipe your face and then his with a towel and he feels overwhelmed with the love he has for you. he wraps your legs around his waist and carries you back to bed.

he flops you down on the bed and wastes no time in ridding you off your clothes. he quickly moves between your legs and slides off your shorts. he sees the confusion on your face and grins “gotta reward my sweet doll for such a good job, don’t i?”

he pulls your legs over his shoulders and gets to work. you gasp when you feel his freshly trimmed beard between your legs. he starts by tracing your outer labia with his tongue and moving to your inner labia. his tongue pokes under your clitoral hood and then presses over your clit.

your hole still untouched. he teases his tongue around it until he hears you whine “kento, please”. he dips his tongue in and you’re almost instantly clenching around his tongue. “oh, she’s needy today,” he speaks to your pussy in a hoarse tone.

he replaces his tongue by inserting two fingers into you. plunging in and out, curving slightly to push against that spot. his tongue moves over your clit in languid teasing licks, making you squirm and tighten your grip on his hair.

“stay still sweetheart,” he tuts at you. having had enough of his teasing, you tighten your legs around his shoulders and pull his head further into your cunt.

with a grip on his hair, you start grinding against his face bringing yourself closer to your high. he removes his fingers from your cunt and dips his tongue once more. excited to have you clenching his tongue as you cum.

“ahh ken, fuck i’m so close,” you mewl indirectly asking him to help you. his thumb alternates between rubbing circles and flicking your nub. soon you cum with a scream of his name. almost suffocating him between your legs, but he doesn’t mind.

he continues lapping at your cunt as you come down from your orgasm. you shudder as his tongue moves over your sensitive nub once more. he sucks your clit into his mouth, on a mission to make you cum again.

your hips grind against him involuntarily but this time he holds you down with a bruising grip. his head bobs as he continues sucking and lapping at your clit.

he holds your gaze as your expression changes to tethering the edge of overstimulation. his favorite view. his free hand moves over to your boobs – massaging and teasing your nipples.

you grab his hand move it higher and up to your lips. he squeezes your cheek once and then you’re poking out your tongue and licking his palm. you hold his hand steady and suck in the two fingers that were in your cunt earlier.

you hum around his fingers and try to match the pace of his tongue on your clit. you look into his eyes, ignoring your gag reflex and push his fingers further into your mouth — you decided to add a third finger.

nanami pulls away and bites your inner thigh as he grinds into the bed trying to get some relief. oh how he wishes you were sucking his cock instead. he plunges his tongue into your hole again and moans at the thought – making your hole spasm around his tongue.

unable to contain himself, nanami, continues bucking his hips into the bed as you keep sucking his fingers greedily.

your second orgasm washes over you and you almost bite down on his fingers at the blissful pleasure. as if on cue he creams his pants and groans into your thigh.

“can’t believe you’ve made me cream my pants more than once,” he chuckles from his place on your sprawled out thigh. he peppers kisses as he moves up your body, purposefully rubbing his freshly trimmed beard causing you to giggle sweetly. he grabs your face and gives you a bruising but loving kiss.

𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆. 𓆝⋆. 𓇼 ˚｡𓆉 ⋆𓇼 ⋆.

a/n: reblogs, likes, and comments are highly appreciated!

© SONARSPACE 2023 | DO NOT COPY, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORK ON OTHER PLATFORMS!

[kamitv]

▷ (S)CREAM VI

Synopsis . In which your ‘killers’ soon realize you’re not stuck with them but they’re stuck with you… / Pairings . (Separate) Ghostface!Geto x f!reader, Ghostface!Gojo x f!reader, & Ghostface!Choso x f!reader / Content . afab!reader, three/foursome, squirting, non-curse au, oral sex, reader gets kinda passed around, men teasing one another, dirty talk, unprotected sex, established relationship, lowk feral reader, cuck!Geto, rough sex, praise, overstim, degrading, tw: spitting, pet names, filth (cùm eating), pussy slapping, teasing, a hint of knife play, etc . / wc . 9.6k (oops!)

A/N: Sorry this is late, but anywho! I <3 Ghostface. Art creds to @aransmind [MDNI]

“You want me to wear that and chase you around the estate?”

“Yeah, and when you find me…”

“I fuck you instead of killing you.”

“Mhm!” You hum cheerfully to your rather concerned boyfriend whose lap you’re currently sitting on.

Those dark raven strands of hair framing his gorgeous face sway with the light tip of his head to the side as his naturally slim eyes narrow at your overly excited expression, “And I’m doing this, why?” Geto questions.

You let out a giggle, which only confuses him even more. “Because Scream is my favorite franchise and Ghostface is hot… Duh.”

It’s as if the man only falls for you more and more every day. Geto’s been with you for roughly two years now and yet you’ve never revealed this sudden… mask kink you clearly have. He likes the Scream franchise just as much as you do and the idea of chasing you around and eventually fucking you in costume definitely excites him.

So there you are; sitting in his lap and pouting, steadily snaking your arms around his neck and pulling yourself in close before you plant a chaste little kiss on his lips.

“C’mon Sugu, I know you’ve thought about it before,” You point out to him in a low purr as your lips depart from his.

The hands that’d been calmly resting on your hips suddenly grow intrigued as they slide up to your waist and give you a soft squeeze, “I really haven’t.” He admits honestly. You can see it all in his eyes that he silently agreed to this the moment you brought out that stupid mask.

At his soft admission, a gleaming smile spreads across your face, “Okayy, well you are now… So is that a yes or what?”

He pretends to think for only a moment longer, glancing off to the side in faux thought before landing those pretty lilac irises back onto you, “Yeah, sure. Tomorrow's Halloween so, we can do it then.” Geto tells you.

And that was all it took. 

Halloween night was here before you even had time to fully prepare for it. The entire day you weren’t able to stop thinking about the moment Geto would walk through the front door, dressed in all black with that overly attractive ghostface mask cloaking his equally beautiful face. 

Your heart was racing in anticipation as the sun began to set outside and the clock ticked closer and closer toward the time of which he would return home from work. You knew he’d be there no more than thirty minutes after and all you could do was wonder how this all would go down.

Clad in only one of his oversized white t-shirts, you distracted yourself by mindlessly scrolling on your phone as you awaited the moment he’d get home. Any second now and you’d hear that lovely security chime go off—

You jump a little in your bed when your thought is cut off by an incoming unknown number. If you weren’t buzzing with excitement before, you damn sure are now because it’s clear your boyfriend is going out of his way to play into this with you. There are practically small hearts in your eyes as you tap that enticing green button on your screen to answer the phone.

Biting back a smile, you’re quick to bring the phone up to your ear, “Hello?”

An almost low-quality distortion to the person’s voice is instantly recognized by you—it wasn’t Suguru’s voice at all, it was that infamous voice changer that spoke to you. “Why don’t you wanna talk to me?” A man asks, and you know this line all too well.

Hell, you know the entire dialogue. This is exactly why you sit up in your bed and hold back that smile of yours like your life depended on it. Tilting your head into the phone, you glance around your bedroom, “Who is this?”

“You tell me your name, I’ll tell you mine,” The ‘mystery’ man continues. 

You had to slap a hand over your mouth to keep yourself from giggling right then and there. Your dark little fantasy was becoming true right before your very eyes and it had a sliver of excitement slipping down your spine. Sliding out from your bed, you take small steps toward the nearby window and glance outside.

Scoffing softly, “I don’t think so.” You quote, straight from the first Scream. You’ve seen the movie enough times to recite the whole thing word for word, even his lines.

It’s a bit off-script how things go from here on out but, that’s the goal.

“Aw, you’re no fun.” He purrs. Even with that damn voice changer, you’d recognize that purr any day. You know this is your boyfriend and that only has your body heating up with each passing second.

Now you’re left to improv a bit. “Think so?” You reply as you pull your bedroom curtains closed and turn away from the window.

“Oh I know so, sweetheart. It’s Halloween night and you’re doing nothing to celebrate.” The man on your phone points out. 

You’re walking out of your room now and taking a careful peek into the dimmed hallway. “And that makes me not fun? What am I supposed to do to celebrate Halloween aside from dressing up and maybe handing out some candy?”

He chuckles. “You’re a smart girl, I’m sure you can figure something else out.”

“Let me guess,” Your brows raise a little, “I should be watching scary movies?”

“That depends. You like scary movies?” There you are, right back onto the script.

“Uhuh,” You hum in response with a slight nod as if he could see you.

“What’s your favorite scary movie?” And there it is, infamous line one of many. You nearly let out a dreamy sigh knowing that it’s nothing but your boyfriend on the other end.

Allowing yourself to smile this time, you trek down your hallway and towards the staircase. “Uhhh, I dunno,” Of course you know, but where’s the fun in saying it so soon?

“You have to have a favorite. What comes to mind?” Every scratchy distorted-pitched word that pours from the man’s mouth has anticipation bubbling within you.

You sigh. “Uhmm, Halloween!” As you recall that answer straight from the movie, you turn to your staircase and allow your eyes to scan the first floor of your home.

Most of the lights are on so it’s not too dark or anything but you really are curious whether or not Geto has made his way inside already.

“Y’know, the one with the guy with the white mask who walks around and stalks babysitters?” You quote flawlessly yet again. You’re such a fanatic for the Scream franchise that you’re loving every single second of this.

“Yeahh,” He purrs again, making your heart involuntarily flutter.

You begin to slowly descend down the flight of stairs, “What’s yours?”

“Guess.” He orders on the other end.

Pausing halfway down, you glance over to your kitchen. The light is still on and everything is exactly the way you left it. “Uhm, Nightmare on Elm Street?” You soon reply.

“Is that the one where the guy had knives for fingers?” The way your boyfriend knows every word to this just as well as you do makes your stomach churn in affection just a bit. 

Your voice turns enthusiastic and you continue your steps down, “Yeah! Freddy Kruger.”

“Freddy, that’s right.” He continues, “I like that movie—it was scary.”

“Well the first one was but the rest sucked.” You’re downstairs now, looking around at the way all the blinds in your home are open. Did you leave them like that for this exact reason? You don’t remember.

“Mhm,” ‘Mystery’ man hums and you swear you can picture the smirk on his face as he utters the next infamous line. “Soo, you got a boyfriend?”

You pull your lower lip into your mouth for a second before smiling, “Why? You wanna ask me out on a date?” Now you’re making a right to enter your living room, heading toward your couch placed in the center.

“Maybe. Do you have a boyfriend?” He asks again.

You pause for a second. This literally is your boyfriend so, surely he wants you to play into this question, right?

“No.” You chirp simply.

You can hear the smile on his face even through that stupidly attractive voice changer, “You never told me your name.”

You know what comes after this and you can’t help but begin to look around as you plop down on your couch, “Why do you wanna know my name?” 

It’s silent over the phone for a long couple of seconds

“Cause’ we wanna know who we’re looking at.”

Your heart surprisingly sinks as those words hit your ears. We? That’s not… how that scene goes. He was supposed to say that he wants to know who he’s looking at. There’s no we? Where the hell did he even get that from??

For the first time since you picked up this damn phone and started this whole thing, you’re actually a bit nervous. Chuckling loosely, you try to play it off as your eyes glance around your living room, “What do you mean, ‘we’?” 

There’s a shuffling over the phone for just a moment. Then, you hear that distorted voice again, but the pitch is slightly different. “C’mon, princess. You’ve seen the movies, you should know by now that there’s hardly ever only one killer.” The man says. 

Eyes all over every corner of the house, heart thumping slightly in your chest, you can feel your anxiety rising within. “I… I don’t understand.” You murmur softly.

And then… all the lights go out with a loud noise coming from somewhere outside. If you weren’t shaking in fear before, you damn sure are now. Your eyes go even wider and you move to put your phone on speaker, clicking your flashlight on right after. 

“S-Suguru, this isn’t funny! I like the movies ‘nd all but I’m not the biggest fan of being scared, you know that.” The person(s) on the phone can hear the clear trembling in your voice as you stand up and point your flashlight to whatever area your eyes land on, searching for any signs of anyone.

There’s a snicker over the line. “Oh but this iss funny, sweets.” The tone changed again—it’s still distorted in that famous Ghostface pitch, but it’s not Suguru nor the person who’d said something before. “You look sooo scared right now.”

Aw hell, that lets you know he (or they) can see you right now. Which is just great considering you can’t see shit aside from darkness and the few areas of your house that your light lands on. You’re scared to leave the living room but… you’re also terrified of staying right where you are. You don’t know how many Ghostface’s are in your house right now and you don’t know what the hell Suguru has planned for you tonight.

“Stop playing around! Turn the lights back on and quit this scary shit, Suguru.” You huff out into the call, taking one step to your right and hearing the floor creak below your foot.

The house is eerily quiet—which is ridiculously concerning considering how he-, they can see you but you can’t see them at the moment. How the hell are they talking to you without you hearing them? They are in your house now, right??

“You said you wanted to get fucked by Ghostface, baby.” The voice returns, as does that natural purr, letting you know it’s Geto talking once more. “You never said how many…”

You slowly walk around your couch and shift your flashlight toward the blinds, trying to get a look outside your windows. “Are you serious? That sounds insane. How many of you are there?!” Your gaze flicks toward the nearby staircase and you only scare yourself as your eyes get lost in the darkness of your home.

Geto’s still talking, “Including me, there’s three of us. How does that sound, hm? I’m obviously not gonna make you do anything you don’t want to but, you do know who we all are.”

You swallow thickly. “Do I?” This time your words leave in a whisper and you swear you hear a shuffling coming from upstairs.

Lord knows you’re scared out of your mind right now. But, it is comforting to know that whatever this is, your boyfriend is in control of it all. You trust him more than anything, so there’s no real reason to be scared… right? 

“Mhm. So how ‘bout we play a game?” Your boyfriend requests, and the sound of him smiling again is heard through his tone.

You stop walking entirely and your eyes are fixated upstairs as you flash your light up there. “Okay Jigsaw.” You snort, “What… What kind of game, huh?”

He sighs, almost sounding as though he were sitting back against something. “The one you and I were going to play. Y’know, you run around ‘n hide but if I find you, I fuck you. Let’s continue that but… with two others.”

“Suguru, you’re gonna let two other guys fuck me?” You’re beyond baffled by this whole thing. Never in a million years would you have expected this from your boyfriend. This is the same man who got mad a while ago for the way some guy who was all flirty with you at a restaurant…

Geto hums deeply, “S’long as you’re okay with it and they find you before I do, yeahh.”

“I didn’t know you were into that…” You reply, moving a hand to tug his shirt further down your body. Knowing that there was more than just him in the area right now made you a bit self-conscious.

“Didn’t know you were into masks but the Ghostface thing really does it for ya’, huh?” Suguru snaps back with that sass you know and love.

“I mean…” You shrug, “Yeah.”

“Right. So then, the game is simple. You try to hide and whoever finds you first; fucks you.”

“That’s it?”

“Oh, nooo. There’s more to this baby…” You swear you hear a creak upstairs—coming from somewhere down the left end of the hallway. It gives you the chills as Geto continues. “See, I know how loud you are when you cum so… tonight, I want you to be nice and quiet.”

You gulp, “What happens if I’m not?”

“Another one of us will find you.”

“Oh—“

“…And join in.” He steadily adds on with an amused smile on his face that you obviously can’t see right now.

Your heart races at the thought alone. “Oh.”

Just for extra consent, Geto tilts his head against the phone, “That alright with you?”

“Yes… but, wait do I still have to be quiet even if there ends up being two of you guys fucking me…?” You lean to the side a bit and aim your light toward the direction you heard the creak, spotting no one and no signs of life whatsoever.

“Yep.” Geto replies with a teasing pop of the ‘p’.

“But—“

“Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll do fine. After all,” The voice changer clicks off and Suguru’s tone is nice and clear with you, “Y’know whose cock you’re supposed t’get loud on.”

You feel yourself throb at the sound of his voice without that stupid filter, puffing out a little sigh in reaction to his lewd words. 

“Oh, and by the way…”

“Huh?”

The voice changer clicks on one last time and he chuckles. “They’re already in the house.”

——

Okay, you knew Halloween was one of Suguru’s favorite holidays but shit you didn’t expect him to go all out like this.

Not one, not two, but three Ghostfaces in your home searching for you right now? You’re lucky the house is big and there are plenty of places to hide but fuck is your anxiety through the goddamn roof as you sit in the empty tub of your first-floor bathroom. The door is shut but not locked and you’ve got the tub curtain pulled closed, just in case one of them does happen to stroll in.

Obviously, this wasn’t the best hiding spot in the world but you wanted them to eventually find you. You were scared in the beginning because of how unexpected this was but now you’re just as excited as you were when you first received that infamous phone call and recited all the lines with your boyfriend.

As soon as the call had ended, you clicked your flashlight off and snuck around in search of a hiding place—which is roughly how you ended up where you are now…

Now you’re left wondering who would find you first. Well, that and who the hell is under two of those masks. You suspect one of them is Gojo Satoru since that’s your boyfriend’s best friend but the other guy… you’re not too sure. Geto said you knew him but that still doesn’t help much.

Your boyfriend has a lot of friends that you know. Which one does he trust enough to let them have their way with you??

After maybe fifteen minutes of sitting in the tub, you start hearing someone outside the bathroom door. Footsteps shuffle by and you can tell the person went off into your kitchen. Then you hear the sounds of doors and cabinets opening, all of which make your breath hitch.

It’s so nerve-wracking and exciting waiting for someone to swing open the bathroom door. The footsteps soon pass it again and you let out the faintest sigh.

…Only to hear those steps halt not too far off from the door. Then, they turn and your body stiffens up entirely as each thump against the hardwood floor draws closer and closer to the door. You can’t see it because of the shower curtains but, there’s a shadow at the bathroom door.

Then you hear a small clinking sound, followed by a very soft… thump? Almost as if someone were leaning against the bathroom door to listen.

It was so scarily exciting that you had to move a hand over your mouth to keep yourself as silent as possible. After which, it’s all so very motionless.

There’s no sound, safe for someone walking around upstairs, and you just know someone’s outside the bathroom door right now. Your heart sinks into your ass the moment you hear that doorknob turning torturously slow until it’s lightly pushed open. 

Then, there are but two soft steps taken inside and you don’t hear it but the door is closed behind whoever just entered.

They could be coming in to just use the bathroom… riiiight?

That’s extremely naive of you to think but a girl can only hope. Another step is taken deeper into the bathroom and that soft clinking sound you heard before is getting louder. It’s faint, almost like… jewelry or… necklaces slapping against one another gently. Jewelry… Necklaces… Which one of Geto’s friends do you know wears a lot of jewelry...? C’mon, think.

Necklaces… rings maybe… piercings—

The very second it clicks in your brain who this might be, you practically flinch right out of your skin as you spot a knife slowly moving to slide the bathtub curtain open. As the curtain is pulled open, you’re met with the tilted head of someone in a Ghostface costume.

Your eyes are all wide on them and you genuinely have no idea where on your body this guy is looking but the mask is actually quite scary when it’s all dark and neither of you is making any sudden movements.

His head slowly angles to the opposing direction, just like Ghostface often does in the movies, and you gulp loudly. The curtain is pinned to the wall by the knife in his hand and you think you’re sweating.

“Scared?” His voice is deep. Familiarly deep. It quickly confirms your suspicions of who’s face may be lying beneath that iconic mask.

With your eyes all frantic along what’s covering his face, noticing the bits of blood and cracks decorating it, you swallow thickly yet again. “Choso?” Your voice is hardly above a whisper and the air feels so heavy with tension.

His hand moves away from the wall and the knife, which you hope is fake, is placed on the edge of the tub with a soft tapping noise emitting into the still air. Then he takes that same hand and lifts it to pull his mask up to the right side of his face, revealing his expression to you as he crouches down to your eye level. You quickly feel your fear die off and it’s replaced with… something else as you study his face. There’s fake blood splattered on his skin, makeup extending the tattoo along the bridge of his nose, and piercings that stand out against his facial features.

“The tub, really?” He whispers to you, chuckling softly and flashing this kind smile at you that makes you feel overly warm inside. “S’this the best you could do? Y’know if I was a real killer you’d be dead right now, right?” Choso teases, all of his words kept in a low voice.

You roll your eyes and shift against the cold tub flooring, “I wouldn’t have hid in here if you guys were real killers, I’m not dumb.”

His lips curve into this sexy yet lazy smirk and you can feel your heart fluttering in your chest. You had a thing for Choso way back before you started dating Geto and it seems as though your body hasn’t forgotten why. “Yeahh?” Choso chastises with another tilt of his head, “Think you would be the final girl?”

Leaning forward a bit, you nod. “No, I know I would.”

Choso lets out a hum before biting his lower lip for a moment. Then, he lets it fall from in between his teeth and you think you’re in a trance. “Oh she’s cocky, huh?” He teases.

You smile at him and then push up to stand on your knees. Leaning all the way forward, you slowly reach for the knife and take it into your hands. Then you move to hold the tip of it right underneath his jaw and the sound of his breath hitching hits your ears just right. 

You openly stare at his lips and watch the way his smirk slowly transcends into a full cocky smile. “Y’know that’s not fake, right?” Choso hushes out to you.

The knife is carefully caressing his skin as you trace it up slightly to his chin, “It’s not?” You ask innocently, placing your free hand on the edge of the tub and watching how he slowly moves to sit on his knees so that he’s looking up at you.

His face is all pretty from this angle, big brown doe-eyes batting up at you so softly, such a pretty face of dark innocence presented before you. Who’s really the ‘victim’ here—you or him?

“Nah,” Choso whispers, “That’s a real knife.”

“Why would you carry around a real knife?” You ask in an equally soft tone as your brows twist up in confusion.

He shrugs. “Honestly, I was gonna ask if you were into a bit of knife play…” 

His words make your mind stray away from the situation at hand. Your imagination is quick to push out ideas and all sorts of scenarios that could have occurred with this knife of his had you not looked so scared when he first saw you…

“Are you?” The question in return makes Choso’s gaze flicker into something way more lustful than it was moments before.

He scoffs, “Am I? Why would I ask you about it if I wasn’t.”

“So… What, you wanna cut my clothes off of somethin’?” You ask carefully, steadily slipping the tip of the knife along his jawline.

Choso just barely nods his head in response.

“Y’know it’s funny you say that and yet you’re the one on your knees with a knife held up to your chin right now.” You point out with an all-knowing grin plastered all over your face.

Choso bites back a laugh. It’s cute that you think you have the upper hand here. “You and I both know that could easily change in a matter of seconds.” He claims.

And y’know, maybe it’s because you found yourself turned on by this whole game or maybe it’s simply because you wanted to fuck Choso but either way—you do not shy away from testing that theory. All you said was a simple ‘prove it’ and you found yourself in quite the position moments later.

It was one thing that Choso managed to easily gain a hold of the knife once more but it was another thing entirely that he was able to swiftly and quietly get you out of the tub and into his arms. All without even so much as grazing you with that sharp weapon too.

It was almost impressive, in all honesty.

Somewhere in the mix of all that, he ends up placing the knife down and soon has you sitting on the bathroom counter. Well, had you sitting on the bathroom counter—it quickly becomes a lot more than simply that.

Choso used that lil’ knife of his to cut down the center of your (Geto’s) shirt and was quick to have you all exposed to his overly greedy eyes. You were wearing nothing more than this lacy black set beneath that oversized shirt so it wasn’t much to get you unclothed.

One second he was cutting your shirt open and the next his lips were on yours. Then his pierced tongue was in your mouth and your arms were around his neck, tugging him closer to you and feeling his hard cock poking you through the thick layers of black clothes between you and him.

Which is exactly what led to the way you are currently.

Choso now has your legs spread wide open for him and his clothes are hardly even off, safe for the black cloak-like jacket that slipped off of his shoulders and the way his pants have been tugged down. He’s got on this black compression shirt and you spot the layered chains/necklaces hanging from around his throat that you heard earlier. Now leaning back slightly against the mirror behind you with your eyes set down between the two of you, you’re left watching the mean slap of Choso’s leaky cockhead against your clit. 

“Cho,” You whispered out pleadingly. He’d been doing this for the longest—tapping his thick cock against your clit and then rubbing it from side to side against you, feeling the way you leak onto the counter below and hearing those faint whines escaping your throat.

Then he has the nerve to have the sluttiest expression on his half-revealed face, eyes all low-lidded and glued to your exposed pussy, bottom lip locked in between his teeth as he holds back his own breathy sounds of pleasure, and brows all tense as if he’s not the one torturing the two of you like this. “Shiiiit,” Choso rasps out, sliding his cock down slowly and pressing his fat tip against your weeping hole. “Suguru was right, this pussy is s’fuckin’ loud ‘n messy…” He breathes.

Your lips are all parted and all you can do is pant softly as he lifts his tip away and then slaps it against your cunt again, listening to the shlick tapping sound that comes from your sex.

Almost in a daze, he glides his cock up and down your wet folds, “Look at herrr,” Choso purrs, “All wet f’me. Can’t believe he’s lettin’ us fuck you.” His hips push forward a bit and you feel the way his heavy shaft glides against your cunt instead of inside like you so desperately want him to.

You have to suppress the needy whine that threatens to escape your throat, holding one hand slightly over your mouth. “Choso, please.” You whisper beneath your palm.

He pulls his hips back and angles his tip back down to your entrance, pushing forward ever so slightly and teasing that tight ring of muscle, not trying to really push himself into you at all. “What is it, princess?” Choso taunts, smirking as he lifts his eyes up to your face, “Want me to fuck you?”

You throb at his words, nodding as if a second longer would have you pronounced dead. “Please,” You whine, trying your best to wiggle your hips forward.

Choso leans forward and moves his lips right up your ear, his breath all warm and tickly against your skin. “Yeah? Y’want my cock inside you that badly?” He says with another faint push of his hips. Every word that leaves his lips has you dripping all over him.

It’s not until you move your hand away from your mouth and place it on the counter space behind you, and whisper, “Yes Choso, just put it all the way in already, I’m losing my fuckin’ m-mind…” Your last word leaves a little shaky due to the way he suddenly moves a hand over your lips.

Pressing his palm against your mouth, you grow confused until you look over to the bottom of the bathroom door and see a shadow moving by. Yet another Ghostface was nearby.

Choso, not yet wanting to ruin his alone time with you, presses his lips further against your ear, and his other hand grips your thigh tightly. “M’not ready t’share you yet so, be really fuckin’ quiet f’me, alright?” His warning confused you for half a second before you felt him roll his hips forward with a sharp snap at the end, stuffing you full with every hard inch of his cock in one go.

Your eyes tear up and your mouth hangs open under his hand, a strangled moan escaping your throat. Choso’s dick is so stupidly big, reminding you of your boyfriend in more ways than one. Unlike Geto though, Choso’s got this ruthless right curve and just drags against your sweet spot with every small movement he makes, the rest of his cock felt throbbing and twitching wildly against your sodden walls.

He lets out a choked grunt against your ear and you can feel him humping his cock deeper inside you with these small maddening little thrusts. “Does he even fuck you? S-Shiiit…” Choso lets his thoughts be vocalized against the crown of your ear and you only squeeze around his girthy shaft. “S’fuckin’ tight.. God-, fu-uck…” His voice has this pretty lil’ crack at the end that makes you soak his cock even more, sloppy juices leaking all out from where the two of you are connected.

Choso has to tug his hips back a bit and he completely forgets that he recently heard someone walking by the bathroom as he mindlessly thrusts right back into you. Your eyes meet the back of your skull and you groan into his palm. The wet gurgles and squelches from your pussy are what draws attention to the bathroom, if any.

Which is something you can’t even control, especially not with the way Choso goes from short grunts in your ear to moaning delightedly against your skin and fucking his thick cock into your sinfully warm cunt. Deep and almost passionate strokes are made into you and he can’t help but rid his hand from your mouth at some point. Moving it back to your thighs, he sprawls your legs out even wider so his cock can dig deeper into you.

With your jaw still hanging open, the sounds of him fucking you against the counter slowly grow louder and louder. You’re trying not to moan but it’s so hard with him—Choso knows how to use his cock all too well and his eyes are studying your face so he knows where exactly he should be thrusting. Just the slightest shift of his hips causes drool to leak from the corner of your lips and that makes him flash this fucked-out little smile.

Choso leans up closer and his body sandwiches against yours for a moment. You swear you can feel his angry cockhead prodding at your guts because fuck is he in there deep. Not to mention how orgasmic it is to feel him drag his pierced tongue against your chin, lapping up the mess of drool from your face before shoving the muscle into your mouth and forcing you to suck on it.

That leaves your moaning drowned out for a bit and Choso takes the opportunity to pound himself into you like a damn madman. Your legs quickly begin to feel like jello in his hands and you couldn’t even focus on sucking on his tongue anymore. Then, he pulls his mouth away, just barely, and the two of you are staring deep into each other’s eyes as his pace gets faster. His hips are so sharp against you and you can feel his weighty balls slapping against your ass with every mean and pronounced thrust.

Your breath mingles with one another and you’re both so fucked out that you don’t even realize you’re a lot louder now until you spot the bathroom door cracking open in your peripherals. It barely makes a sound as it’s pushed open slightly and all you see is yet another person wearing a Ghostface mask—the sight alone and the clear eye contact you make with them leading straight to your orgasm.

The second Ghostface stands motionless, doing nothing more than watching the blissful way your eyes lull to the back of your head and you release this sweet moan of Choso’s name. Choso, oblivious to being watched right now, is so close to emptying himself inside you.

“F-Fuck,” He huffs, tipping his head back and looking up to the ceiling for a moment. “So tight… I’m gonna c-cum if you keep squeezin’ me like that.” His voice fluctuates here and there but by the time your eyes roll back into place, the bathroom door is shut and that second Ghostface is now standing right behind Choso.

You flinch and Choso chokes out a grunt at how tightly you just clenched around his cock. The second Ghostface is slow to lift his mask up a bit, only revealing his mouth with this recognizable snake bite piercing that has your cunt gripping onto Choso even tighter. Then, the man leans to Choso’s ear and practically scares him into cumming inside you.

“What do we have here, hm?” Gojo whispers, making Choso’s hips stutter against you. He then reaches a gloved hand around Choso and your neglected clit is met with his thumb swatting over it, “Can’t believe you found her first. S’not fair…” Gojo hums softly with a slight pout.

You have this dumbfounded look all over your face and you may be fucked out of your mind but you swear Choso’s cock is almost harder inside you. The two of you curse in unison as Gojo rotates his thumb against your clit in a sensual circle motion, making you clench again and Choso rolls his gaze back—only the whites of his eyes visible to you.

“K-Keep rubbin’ her like that,” Choso pants with a soft moan. “She’s so fucking tight… I’m gonna die in here, s-shit.” He curses dramatically.

Gojo flicks his thumb upwards against your clit with a nasty trickle of your slick oozing out onto Choso’s cock. “You’re not gonna die, Cho,” He says in a chastising tone with a smile on his face, taking his free hand to pull his mask further up so that you can see his eyes. 

You watch the way Gojo looks over Choso’s shoulder and stares at Choso’s lengthy cock disappearing in and out of your slobbering pussy. Gojo feels his own dick throb against his pants, pressing himself a bit closer to Choso and moving to talk into his ear. “I mean look at her,” Gojo directs, leading to Choso focusing his hazy gaze onto your face. “You’re already fucking her to tears, you’re not gonna die, heh. You’re fuckin’ her good.”

That last praise is what causes Choso to slump forward against you and roll his hips harshly against you—followed by which is a thick spurt of cum as he finishes inside you with a broken groan pouring from his lips. All as Gojo keeps his thumb on your clit, despite his hand getting squished in between you and Choso’s body. 

Then Gojo smirks and leans in toward Choso again, “There ya’ go, good boy. Let it all out inside her. Jus’ like that…” 

You don’t think you’ve ever been this… ruined before in your life. Watching Gojo tease and praise Choso like that while you were still being fucked and your clit was being stimulated led to you abruptly squirting. Choso’s cock slips right out of you and Gojo removes his hand just so that both of them could watch you let out that filthy lil’ stream.

Choso’s completely out of it as he watches your pussy spasm wildly. “Holy…” He whispers, hardly able to finish the rest of his statement.

Gojo clicks his tongue, “Suguru didn’t tell us you were a squirter. Or, has he never made you do that before?” He asks, slowly lifting his eyes up to your face.

You look like you’re about to pass out, your body all sweaty as you lean back against the mirror again and pant heavily. “He… hah, f-fuck, h-he has.” You squeak out softly.

Gojo hums before looking back down, allowing Choso to step (stumble) back slightly past him so he can catch his breath. Then, once Choso is completely out of the way and the space between your legs is left vacant—Gojo lets out an alarming chuckle.

He watches the way Choso’s cum dribbles out of your overstimulated cunt, glob after glob leaking out so prettily that Gojo can’t help but crouch down to get a closer look. Your eyes lazily follow his snowy head of hair and watch as his face is repositioned in between your spread legs. He moves his gloved thumb to your pussy lips and sloshes that mix of you and Choso’s cum around against you. 

Then, Gojo flicks his gaze up to you and you gulp. He looks you dead in the eyes before spreading your lips further apart with his thumb and leaning forward. Your jaw drops in shock as Gojo cups his mouth against your pussy and suckles the mess from Choso into his mouth.

You whine, “S-Satoru—oh, w-wait,” You’re left gasping as you shoot a hand down to his hair and grip him tightly.

Gojo groans deeply and you feel his tongue lap against your saturated cunt leisurely. Moving up and down in a sloppy filthy manner, your legs are trembling while Gojo cleans you up casually. 

Choso’s sitting on the nearby toilet seat now, batting his lashes at Gojos actions in shock. “Satoru you… you know I just—“

“Mhmm,” Gojo mumbles into your pussy, pulling his lips back just barely to allow a cool slap of air to hit you. Then, he swallows. “You both taste really,” Gojo leans back in to kiss your cunt, “Mmph… fuckin’ sweet.” He murmurs against you before slithering his tongue inside you.

Your back arches and your legs move to close around his head as your fingers tug desperately on his locks of hair. “S’toru,” You mumble, “Fuck. Please… mgh, n-needa’ break. I-I can’t—“

Gojo tilts his head and smiles into your honeyed slick, “Sweetheart,” He rasps against you, suckling on your taste for a moment longer before pulling off with a wet pop! “I jus’ got here ‘n you want a break from me already?” He says, pushing out his bottom lip to pout. “That’s so mean.”

Before you even get the chance to argue with that, he’s diving right back in and eating you out like a man staved. Sucking, licking, kissing, spitting—Gojo’s between your legs in some kind of trance as he drools all over his current meal. He’s such a messy eater too, his actions quickly leading to the lower half of his face being coated with remnants of you.

After a bit, Choso seems to have collected himself and he’s soon standing up. His pants have been hastily pulled up and you’re too lost in the overstimulation Gojo’s giving you to realize Choso is approaching you too. When your eyes lift, you see Choso with his Ghostface mask back over his face and his phone held in his right hand.

Cocking his head to the side, he looms closer to Gojo and sneaks a, now gloved, hand into his bright white tufts of hair, prying his mouth away from your cunt with a harsh tug. You watch with teary eyes as Choso holds his phone up to Gojo’s face, and hums out a low, “Smile.” With the voice changer turned on.

Gojo sparks a toothy grin and his expression is all high in pleasure. He looks faded out of his mind, simply off of eating you out alone. The flash from Choso’s phone lights up the bathroom and within the picture he just took, only your legs are visible dangling over Gojo’s shoulders. They’d just recreated that infamous photo you see around this time of year all over your socials. Usually, the victim would be laid out stomach first on the floor and Ghostface would tug their head up by their hair but, this definitely works too.

“Atta’ boy,” Choso praises after he’s taken the desired amount of pictures. 

Gojo looks up to you and he’s pretty sure he can see little hearts in your eyes as you glance back and forth between him and Choso. “You don’t mind, do ya’? We wanna have somethin’ to remember this by,” He tells you.

You simply shake your head no and both of the men in front of you smile. Choso then nods his head a little before using his grasp on Gojo’s hair to shove him back down in between your legs—earning a surprised hum from your throat and a muffled groan from Gojo’s. 

Despite the little Surprise, Gojo gets back to work with his mouth and you end up leaning forward a bit in surprise. Choso moves over to the side a bit and he feels you drop a hand to Gojo’s head to give him a light push away so he can ease up on you. In contrast to this, Choso steals your attention by wrapping a free hand of his around your throat. Your eyes shoot up to him and you’re met with the eyes of Ghostface since he’s got the mask back on.

Purposefully, he does that head tilt again. So slowly does it tip to the side as Gojo’s teeth graze your clit, causing you to let out a pleasureful yelp. “Fuck!” You gasp, to which Choso removes his hand from Gojo’s hair.

Creeping up along your body, Choso grabs a greedy handful of your breast before leaning in. “That was loud, princess. You’re gonna get us all caught,” He snickers to you.

Your bottom lip quivers and you think the sight of it makes Choso feel bad. He takes his hand off of your tits for just a second to pull his mask up and then returns his gasp. Both of you have the same idea in mind but it’s you that reaches for him this time, tugging him in so that his lips can meet yours again.

And then it’s just sloppy from there on out. Anyone with ears could walk past that bathroom, or anywhere down stairs for that matter, and hear the sliding of lips over one another followed by gurgled gasps and barely muffed goans. Choso’s making out with you while he plays with your tits in his hands and Gojo’s still lost in between your legs.

Your whole body feels like it’s on fire and your head is beginning to spin from how good you feel everywhere. It only gets worse when the two start muttering praises out to you.

Dragging his lips down to your chest, Choso hushes out these elated whispers, “C’mon pretty girl, don’t tap out on us jus’ yet.”

Then there’s Gojo who moves to suck on your inner thigh. “Yeahh, don’t tap out. Let us make you feel good, baby.” He hums into your skin.

The counter beneath your ass is a slippery wet mess just like the bottom of Gojo's face and all the way down his neck with the way he let your juices trickle along his skin as he ate. All three of you get a little lost in the moment for quite some time. So much that you all seem to forget there’s supposed to be a third Ghostface.

Who, unknowingly, ends up silently opening the bathroom door and catching the way his two friends have his girlfriend all spread out ‘n ruined like some slut. Geto swore he almost came in his pants at the sight alone. You don’t seem to notice he’s standing there and you’re the only one facing him. His eyes are all over your wet expression, watching and listening to you moan two other guy’s names.

He didn’t even want to say anything. Geto just wanted to remain where he was and watch because lord knows if he joins in he won’t last longer than a few seconds. So, he does exactly that—going completely unnoticed there for a while. 

Up until Gojo pulls his mouth off of you for a second. He looks up to see Choso decorating your chest in hot kisses and wet hickies, the two of you constantly making eye contact with one another before he moves his lips to yours again. Fuck just watching you two was hot. So hot that it makes Gojo wonder where the hell his best friend is at and why he’s missing out on all this.

Which is what leads to him turning around to glance back at the bathroom entrance, quickly spotting Geto standing there leaning against the door frame. Well, shit. It’s in that moment that Gojo realizes he sees the appeal in the whole Ghostface thing because fuck is his best friend just as hot as everything and everyone else in this damn room.

After Gojo, you’re the next person to realize your boyfriend is now present, and then Choso seconds later. Each of you have this face as if you’d been caught doing something you weren’t supposed to but that little detail is irrelevant given how Geto could care less about how he was the last to find you. And sure, he may have watched you run into the bathroom earlier and could’ve gone in there to scare you a while ago but, watching Choso and Gojo eventually find you and then listening to them interact with you from outside the bathroom was far more entertaining.

—

So, one thing led to another and…

You find yourself laid out in your bed all over again, this time accompanied with three men. Geto was the first to get himself situated—seating himself not too far away from the bed and telling you to “put on a show for him”.

By this point, who were you to even question him? If Gojo and Choso were leading things before, they damn sure aren’t now because it’s you who’s ordering them around and letting them know where you want them. Starting with you on all fours, showing off that arch that Geto has had you perfect over the years. Then your legs part slowly and Gojo’s behind you in a trance as he watches you move a hand to spread your cunt open for him.

“You spoil us, sweetheart,” Gojo rasps in a low pitch, voice slightly hoarse from how long he’d gone without talking earlier. 

You wanted to focus on him some more but a pair of fingers are placed on your chin and your face is quickly redirected to the second man of need. The moment your head turns, you’re met with Choso’s fat cockhead right in front of your face. Batting your lashes, you’re slow to look all the way up to him and see the way he’s smirking down at you.

“‘Could get off on that look alone, y’know.” Choso comments deeply in reference to your wide glossed over eyes and how close his tip is to your lips.

Gojo’s behind you frowning at the way Choso stole your attention yet again. In an attempt to, at least, have your mind on him once more, Gojo simply pushes his hips forward and eyes the sloppy part of your pussy spread against his pink tip. He hears it, Choso hears it, they all hear the way you gasp softly. It’s like they’re all hyper aware of every sound or slight movement you make.

Immediately after, your hips are wiggling back and Gojo’s quick to palm the fats of your ass. “Finally givin’ me some attention now, huh?” He quips.

You pull away from Choso’s touch just to look back at Gojo. “Suguru should’ve told you guys, I hate bein’ teased.” The way you force yourself back on him not even a second after that last word is leaving your lips has Gojo’s jaw falling and his fingers curling into your skin.

“W-Woah sweets, you could’ve warned me f-first…” He stammers, eyes dropping down to your greedy cunt swallowing up his lengthy inches of cock like it’s nothing. Gojo had to bite back a whine as he listened to the syrupy squelches that came with each backward push of your hips. “Fuuck, don’t stop. Give it t’me, baby.”

Gojo doesn’t even have to move yet and you’re already letting off a shaky moan, driving your hips back carefully and feeling him fill up every inch of your cunt. He’s all dazed while he watches his aching cock delve deep inside you, inch by inch—you take him like you were fuckin’ made for him. 

The man is just dazed. He understands why Choso said he was gonna die earlier becuase fuckin’ hell he’s not even all the way in yet and you’re already clamping around his veiny shaft with no intention of ever letting go. And the goddamn arch you have, they way your ass looks all pretty backing up against him—

Gojo’s thrusting forward before he even realizes he is and his hands slide up to your hips to hold you nice ‘n steady. Your legs shake and your jaw mirrors his with the way it just hangs open. Then there’s your eyes and the way they roll back, a delicious moan exiting from deep within your throat.

He definately fucks you harder than Choso was earlier because you can feel his cock everywhere—he has you so stupidly full and dumb on his dick within seconds, landing a mean hand down onto your ass amid his thrusts.

“Ohh fuck, Suguru y’had this pussy all to yourself all this time?” Gojo grunts. “…S-Selfish bastard.”

Gojo’s hands are arguably slimmer than your boyfriends but his grip on you is just the same. Hence why you can’t do anything as he tugs you back to meet his rough pounding. Hell, all you’re left with is a brain full of nothing as your head turns to face forwards and you unconsciously look up at a stunned Choso.

His hand is wrapped around his cock and despite being right in front of your face, he’s definitely jerking off to they way Gojo’s fucking you (or maybe just to Gojo himself, who knows). When Choso does look down, you see his brows twist up and his lips part.

Your mouth is already hanging open so clearly you’re silently offering to help him, right? Which is why he angles himself toward your gape mouth and grunts, “Open up f’me pretty girl, nice ‘n wide…”

And you do, widening your mouth for him to slide his cock in steadily. Choso hisses at the sensation, the underside of his cock gliding down the center of your slobbering wet tongue so lewdly that it makes his teeth grind together. God, if you weren’t every bit of perfect like this. He watches the way his dick fills your mouth and feels how ridiculously tight your throat is as he eases his hips forward.

Almost in unison, Gojo and Choso and up tossing their heads back—one letting out a guttural groan and the other releasing a sweet moan. You’re soaked just about everywhere. Your pussy is sobbing and dripping around Gojo’s cock and your mouth is hardly any better with the way drool is dribbling down from your chin and onto the bed.

All as your boyfriend is losing his ever loving mind. 

Geto came twice in his hand already and yet he’s still bucking his hips up into his fist. He’s never been this hard in his life. Something about watching you get absolutely ravaged by his two friends just make his dick throb in ways he cannot explain. You look perfect too, so damn angelic despite the rather sinful situation you’re in. There’s a creamy mess of cum slicked up and down Geto’s length from the thick tip to his base.

You’re busy getting fucked to tears (again) by Gojo and Choso, one of which has a heavy hand on your head encouraging your throat further around his curved cock and the other keep’s snapping his hips against your ass with his weighty balls grazing your clit every now and then. 

You’re all so screwed. This is like something straight out of a damn porno and yet you didn’t care. Hell, you could hardly fathom enough thoughts at the moment to care.

And of course all three of them are just babbling all sorts of things to you, teasing you, taunting you, making you dizzy with pleasure.

Gojo’s back there spreading your ass apart and watching how wet you’ve gotten his dick, smiling sinfully at the sight. “Look at this pretty girl,” He grunts, “Takin’ my cock so. fucking. well. ungh.”

Then there’s Choso, nodding along as if he agrees with Gojo’s groaned words. His fingers are buried into your hair and by this point he’s fucking your face at the same rate Gojo’s fucking your cunt. “Her throat’s even better—shit. Y’should see how her lips look wrapped around me right now. Especially when I get,” Choso pauses just to give his hips one tortuously slow push, making you deepthroat his angry cockhead. “Right here, f-fuck.”

Again, Geto’s on the side just losing himself at the moment. You make the mistake of glancing over at him and his eyes lock with yours. Geto’s bottom lip is quivering and you watch his hand jerk himself off faster, his legs shifting open and closed as he overstimulates himself. Some nerve you had to look at him as if you don’t have two cocks inside you right now.

“M’gonna cum,” Geto’s muttering to himself over and over in some fucked-out little mantra. 

Watching his head toss back and the way his Adam's apple bobs up and down is probably one of the sexiest sights. The Ghostface mask is all pulled up and his hair is splayed out in a mess of strands.

You end up gagging around Choso when Gojo hits your sweet spot for the sixth time in a row, your fingernails clawing against the sheets below. That’s all it takes for Choso to pull out and come undone all over your face without warning. In his defense, he wasn’t expecting your throat to tighten around him like that so suddenly…

Geto’s not too far behind, cumming in thick ropes with a sexy groan of your name leaving his lips—a sight you barely get to see because then Gojo’s leaning over you and your torso is suddenly pressed down against the bed for a moment. Then, you’re tugged up by a harsh grasp of your hair and Gojo’s fucking you even rougher than he was before, pressing his lips right against your ear.

“Fuckin’ slut,” He degrades so suddenly, wraping a free hand around your waist just to swat a finger over your clit again. “Look at this mess,” Oh, he’s just mean all of a sudden. Gojo lets go of your hair and turns your face toward him, leaning in and… licking the remnants of Choso’s release off of your face, again.

Your breath hitches and you wish you could have said something snarky but then you’re shoved right back down onto the bed. Gojo shifts his gaze to Choso, who flinches at the sudden eye contact, and then motions for him to come closer.

Once he does, Gojo grabs him by the jaw and pulls him in. “Open your mouth,” He breathes out hotly.

Choso bats his lashes at the man but doesn’t hesitate, parting his lips and taking the extra step as to sticking his tongue out. Gojo spits right onto the center of it and then smirks, “Good boy, now swallow it ‘n taste yourself f’me.” 

It’s right about then that you release for the nth time of the night, followed by you squirting again due to the exchange you just heard between those two men. Then, as you wait for the stars in your vision to clear out, you hear Choso gulp loudly.

Half-way smiling to himself, Choso scoffs. “Guess you were right… I do taste pretty sweet.”

A/N: ty guys so much for 6k followers here btw!! much love, mwah.

[furuu]

∘ʚ ♡ You hear the tapping on the glass again, and this time it’s unmistakable. Sukuna sits perched just outside the sliding door, his crimson eyes focused with laser intensity on you. Draped in morning sunlight, his fluffy face is utterly blank, but the bright colorful bird in his mouth is hard to miss, and he watches you like he’s expecting some grand reaction.

With a sigh, you slide the door open, and Sukuna pads in without hesitation, holding his “gift” with careful precision. He sits down, tails swishing in slow, deliberate arcs as he places the small bird at your feet, staring up with an unreadable expression. To anyone else, it might look like nothing more than a blank stare, but you know the slight twitch of his ears, the ever-so-slight narrowing of his eyes; he’s awaiting approval, maybe even the smallest hint of admiration.

“Kitty...” you say softly, doing your best to keep your tone gentle as you crouch down. “You can’t just go around killing birds. Poor thing…”

He doesn’t even blink, instead leaning forward to nudge the bird a little closer to your feet, his expression unchanging. It’s obvious that to him, he’s just presented you with the finest treasure in the world, and his eyes watch you intently, as if to say, Look. I brought this for you.

You chuckle softly, reaching out to give him a light scratch behind his ears. “Alright,” you murmur, smiling. “Thank you, Sukuna. I appreciate the thought.”

His ear flicks, but he keeps his gaze resolutely fixed on something in the corner, clearly trying to play off his satisfaction with a haughty air. But the tell-tale rumble that vibrates from his chest gives him away, and the second pair of his eyes flutter closed in contentment, clearly soaking up the affection even as he tries to pretend otherwise.

Just when you think he’s done, he prowls around the room, circling, casting occasional glances your way like he’s assessing whether his “gift” has truly pleased you. And each time he looks over, you feel a warm flicker of affection. In his own strange, sometimes intense way, Sukuna’s just trying to show he cares—just as any other cat might with an unfortunate, feathery offering.

Finally, he stops, tails flicking with contentment as he settles at your feet, looking rather smug, as if his job here is complete. And despite the unusual nature of his gesture, you can’t help but feel a warm gratitude, reaching down to pat his head.

“Thank you, tiger,” you say again, and he gives a tiny, almost invisible nod before closing his eyes, sinking comfortably beside you, his massive form nearly curled protectively around you. ・₊﹆ɞ‧₊

[strawberryyyenthusiast]

Diabetic Steve who is at a Dairy Queen with Robin after he went with her to an all girl punk band that’s she’s been wanting to see for years. Steve had been feeling weird all day but he didn’t want to bail at the last second because he knew that Robin would just cancel everything to take care of Steve.

(Steve would do the same for her).

Steve plops down into a booth while Robin goes to order them food. He pulls out his pod and winces when he sees his glucose level.

64 and going down. Not a good sign.

Just to be sure he pricks his finger and holy shit, he’s actually at 43. It’s at that moment, when Steve is wiping his finger with the alcohol wipe, that his phone decides to loudly beep to alert him that, “hey you’re crashing pretty hard and fast— take care of it soon!!”

Steve is rifling through his bag while Robin is already trying to rush their orders.

“Shit,” Steve mumbles to himself. “I’m out of fucking juice.”

His hands start to shake and Robin begins to freak out. Steve is always so in control of his diabetes, she’s never seen him like this. So, Robin does what any other person would do and grabs the largest blizzard she has ever seen on the online orders tray and runs over to her best friend.

“Here! Have this, I’m going to try to get you some apple juice!”

Steve just nods his head and slowly spoons some of it into his mouth.

“This tastes like shit, by the way.”

“You’re welcome, dingus. Now shut up and eat.”

The worker behind the counter comes over and starts talking to Robin after she sits in front of Steve. Steve can’t really make anything out right now since he’s trying to focus on making his hands work. But, he thinks he hears the mention of calling 911 and an ambulance.

Time passes a little slower after that. Steve somehow manages to get down enough of the ice cream that he is slowly rising again.

57 after he pricked. Thank god.

It’s at that moment that Eddie Munson, lead singer of Corroded Coffin, walks in. He went to his best friend’s, Chrissy’s, show and needed a pick-me-up after helping her lug all of her equipment back into their vehicle.

He goes over to the online orders tray and it’s empty. He doesn’t really mind waiting. He walks over to the counter and sees that the worker is extremely frantic as she sorts some shit out.

“Hey,” he starts, his fingers tapping the fake granite counter top. “Just checking, I’m here to pick up an order for Edmundo and it’s not on the tray. Do you know when it will be ready?” He flashes an awkward smile and the worker just points to the table behind him.

“We’re working on it. Your nightmare of a blizzard was needed for something else. Give us five minutes.”

Eddie nods and slowly turned around, where he sees the most gorgeous man eating his blizzard. Reluctantly, he might add. The man has on a light pink t-shirt and brown corduroy pants, thick lensed glasses sliding down his nose. The woman across from him was clad in funky colors and had a dirty blonde bob. She was talking extremely fast and gesturing with her hands a bunch.

Chrissy would love her.

He walked over and tapped the man on the shoulder.

“How’s my blizzard?”

He slowly looks up and Eddie is met with honey brown eyes and beauty marks for days. A straight nose and an angular jawline. Jesus Christ.

The woman looks like she’s about to say something, but the guy beats her to it. “It tastes like if a unicorn threw up in my mouth, but it prevented me from passing out. So… thanks.” He smiles. “I’m Steve.”

Eddie needs to become Steve’s husband immediately.

“And I’m in love.” He pauses and then sees the look of glee on Steve’s face. “EDDIE. My name is Eddie.”

“It’s nice to meet you Eddie. Are you free tomorrow?”

[hanasnx]

“ I CAN FEEL IT, CAN YOU FEEL IT, THERE MUST BE SOMETHING IN THE AIR ” — rafe cameron.

MINORS DNI 18+ ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 .ᐟ NOTES: kinktober; takes place in obx s4 e1 but there’s a slight change; also happy birthday @princessbrunette :) i wrote this for you in mind; and based off of the scene in f&f where dom picks letty up calling her his trophy. WARNINGS: spoiler warning for obx season 4 episode 1 ノ non canon compliant: i made rafe win the race ノ size difference ノ established relationship ノ objectification ノ impact play: ass smack ノ mild exhibitionism bcos of pda ノ praise ノ sexual content: p in v stuff ノ dirty talk.

Your feet sink into the sand as you traipse alongside RAFE CAMERON to his station in the race. His large hand envelopes yours, keeping you balanced as he leads you to his bike. The roar of revving fills your ears, loud enough for your boyfriend to have to lean down to your level to speak to you, walking you through the process and your role here. You’ve never been a flag girl before, but he told you she needs to be a “hot piece of ass” and he wants these boys heads still spinning when he wins the race. As a distraction, you were the only girl he wanted for the job.

“… and all you gotta do, baby, is make sure those guys are lookin’ at you. Show off a little something—just this once, I don’t care.” he explains, and you nod your head while brushing your hair out of your face from the wind. The two of you stand aside his bike and he mounts it, swinging a long leg over it. It creaks from his weight, and you roll your tongue between your lips. Without sunglasses, his gaze is narrowed, meeting yours in the light as he tugs you closer to him. “You look good. Prettiest girl on Figure Eight.” he assures you, the corner of his lips quirked as he checks you out. The tiniest booty shorts you could find and a stringy bikini top, you looked good enough to eat. If Rafe wasn’t so concerned with crossing the finish line while these cucks were still drooling over you, he’d be a little jealous they get such a treat. “Man, you are eye candy. Give me a twirl, c’mon.”

It eases your nerves, grinning bashfully to yourself as he raises your hand over your head, twisting on your toes to show him your outfit. He bites his lower lip hard at the sight of the underside of your ass hanging out of your shorts, and he can’t help but give you a tap. You whirl around from the swat, and catch his eyes flash up.

“Mm, baby.” he exclaims, talking about you like you’re dessert and he’s got a sweet tooth. He doesn’t give you a chance to scold him for smacking your ass around all these people, “C’mere,” he murmurs, yanking you to him until your body is draped over him on his bike. Your manicured nails brace on his chest while he steals a kiss, humming in surprise at him when he tilts his head to deepen it. Takes advantage of your parted lips to slide his tongue along yours in a proper good-luck-kiss, which only makes for a string of spit to connect the two of you when you part. You breathe hard, chest rising and falling from thrill as you search his expression. There’s a glow of love-sickness in his eyes.

You try to milk more attention. “I don’t know if I can…” you begin, alluding to how shy you’re gonna be in front of all these people.

“Oh, don’t start that shit, you’re gonna be fine.” he dismisses, seeing right through you and shrugging you off him so you get it’s time to stop being clingy. “Go get ‘em, tiger.” He plucks his helmet up, and rounds his body to place it on his head while you reluctantly leave him.

When it’s time to start the race, you hold up two bandanas—donated by some guys trying to buy you drinks—and Rafe scoffs to himself, patting himself on the back for being such a genius. “Who wouldn’t be lookin’ at you?” he thinks, while he revs his bike. You even give the crowd a little shake, your girls strapped in your bikini top swinging teasingly right before you set them off with the bow of your bandanas and the low dip of your arch. Rafe could’ve sworn one guy glanced over his shoulder to check out your ass bent over because he lost control of his steering for a second after. The race was on, and you did your job exactly how your boyfriend wanted you to.

Some kook with too much time on his hands made his way through the crowd to invite himself into your atmosphere, watching you as you eagerly await Rafe’s return and your signal to drop the flags for the winner.

A voice too close to your ear alerts you, resulting in a minute jolt of your body when he speaks. “What are you doing after this?”

Brows furrow as you glance over your shoulder at him, “Oh, uh, I dunno right now.” you reply, but you’re not showing interest. It would depend on Rafe’s victory. You refocus, keeping an eye on the horizon and the roaring metal of competitive bikes. Rejoining the crowd’s enthusiasm, you react with them when someone wipes out.

“Me and the boys were gonna head to a kegger in the boneyard. You should come.” he tells you. Again, too close for your liking. He’s not particularly bad-looking, or grabby, but you don’t like how he’s standing right next to you and stooping to speak in your ear.

You face him again to respond, but the race takes your attention away, shutting your mouth to whirl around just in time to see Rafe drive back into view, sand kicking up behind his wheel.

After a close call, he wins, and when it’s safe, the adoring crowd cheers as it floods the scene to congratulate the riders. You’re one of them, beelining to Rafe without a second thought. He’s discarded his helmet, tossing it haphazardly to the sand as he meets you.

“Ah, there’s my trophy.” he says, hands clamping onto your waist to lift you from the ground. You squeal with delight, bracing on his shoulders and kicking your feet up. Slowly he lowers you until you can wrap your arms around his neck. He’s hot and sweaty, and smells like it too, inhaling his scent deeply as you embrace him and he spins you around. You’ve completely forgotten about that kook you left behind.

“Did so good, precious, did exactly what I told you to.” Rafe murmurs against your lips, whipping his bike jacket off behind him while you lead him by his jaw deeper into his place.

“Mhm, had to give them a show. Like you said.” you exhale, nodding fervently as you press yourself to him, desperate for some friction.

“Didn’t I say you’d be fine? Huh? What’d I say?” he goads, and stoops, signaling you to jump into his arms. He catches your legs, securing them around his waist before his hand cups your backside and his other pins you to him by the back of your neck.

“I did so good!” you reply, a little perkier than you’d meant to. It breaks him out into a grin against you, and he snickers through his nose. Bringing you to his bedroom, he settles your back onto the bed.

Lips locked, and bodies tangling together, he struggles to find a spare second to keep talking, “Gonna give me my prize? You gonna put out for the winner?” His hips surge, and a familiar hard outline sweeps across the crotch of your denim.

You nod, poking your tongue out in concentration as you help him to undress fully, and you wiggle out of your booty shorts. The peek of your tongue doesn’t go unnoticed, and Rafe’s lips overlays yours, sucking on the pink tip there toyingly. You relax into it, untensing them to melt into a real kiss as the tip of something else nudges against your sex. Already wet and aching from all the teasing today, you go limp at the promise of what’s to come. Bulging mushroom head lazily thumbing in and out of your slit makes your head throw back and jerk. “Rafe…” you whine. Sodden lips mouth at your cheek and jaw, working their way down to make out with your neck as his hips shallowly rut.

Ringed fingers clutch your face, tucking your chin in the web of his index and thumb. It faces you to him, and you look up at him with doe eyes and pretty brows in an upturn. He wants to watch your reactions as he pushes in deeper and deeper, finally sheathing as you cry out. It’s a stingy stretch, and he can see your want for it in the roll of your eyes and the flinch of your delicate expression. “Yeah, baby, gimme that trophy. That’s right.”

[moechies]

Thinking about sloppy blowjob on sugu and hes so, so mean :c

“oh, you’re blowing bubbles now?”

geto tugs harshly at your hair, pulling you back from where you had originally been while mouthing his cock. its sloppy, drool spilling from the sides of your mouth and dripping from his hard, swollen cock onto your lap. “stupid fuckin’ girl.”

you wince in pain of his fisting hand in your locks, and at the harsh words he spits at you over and over — contradicting to the usual sweet, enamoring geto you’re used to. you stammer, ignoring the hot burn in your throat, “s—sugu,”

“c’mon. get it together, yeah?” he growls, pressing your face back into his manhood. your nose nudges against his dewy balls, gaped mouth taking instinct and wrapping around his sack with soft, tight suckles. "there we go."

your lashes flutter at the means of praise, looking up at him with watery doe eyes — you want more. oh — you want so badly for him to give you a kiss and call you his good girl; maybe give you the green light to touch your swollen pussy or even lay you down so he can—

"aw. m’girl’s so pretty like this. ‘s a shame she’s so fuckin’ dumb, though.” he purrs and you drool — thick saliva dripping from his sack to his bulky thigh. he tsks, you’re such a messy little thing. he tangles his fingers into your head of hair, tugging you away from his balls before readjusting his tip directly in front of your lips. he taps the cock head harshly against your swollen, spit-soddened lips and you open on his command. you wouldn’t dare not to.

“so obedient. you wanna be my good girl s’bad, don’t you?” he mocks and you cringe — refusing to deny.

you respond in slow, loving blinks, his cock lodged halfway into your throat already eliciting soft gags. he soothes them — sliding his large hand over your throat giving it a light squeeze. he feels the budge of his own tip through your soft skin, running a finger over the sensitive zone as you shiver. “so cute.” geto chuckles.

you work your mouth on him, letting spit pool in your mouth before you drag your warm throat further to take in more of him — the satisfaction of your nose finally nuzzling against his soft bush of hair. geto tosses his head back with a loud groan, the sweat gleaming across his skin and showing off his prominent adam’s apple. “shit,” he drags, “guess this makes up for you being such a dumb slut for my cock. at least you’re good at this.”

he mumbles with a sleazy smile, the grip in your head of hair growing tighter when he begins to set his pace.

[chosok-amo]

spoiled little girlfriend : gojo satoru, geto suguru

gojo was lying on your shared bed, his long legs stretched out as he sifted through some paperwork. the soft glow from the bedside lamp illuminated his sharp features, making his white hair seem even brighter against the dark sheets. he was deeply focused, his brows slightly furrowed in concentration.

you walked into the bedroom, eyes glued to your phone as you scrolled through a message or maybe a funny video that caught your attention. you didn't even notice how the soft tapping of your footsteps caught gojo's attention. he looked up from his papers, a faint smile playing on his lips as he watched you.

“baby,” you called out casually, still focused on your phone. your voice was sweet, but there was a hint of playfulness in it, like you were about to ask him for something or share a joke.

as you spoke, the sound of running water in the bathroom stopped. geto, freshly showered, stepped out with a towel draped casually around his neck. his wet hair clung to his forehead, droplets of water sliding down his neck and bare chest. he looked relaxed, his eyes warm and soft as he caught sight of you and gojo.

“yes, love?” gojo asked, his voice laced with curiosity as he watched you, his paperwork momentarily forgotten. he shifted slightly on the bed, making space for you to join him.

you bent down to the bed with your feet still touching the wooden floor. your elbows prop against the soft material while your eyes are still focusing on your phone, finger softly scroll through the screen.

“cartier just released a new necklace, look,” you said and show gojo your phone screen. gojo's eyes flick from your face to your phone, his gaze lingering on the expensive piece of jewelry displayed on the screen. his lips curl into a slight smirk as he notices your interest in the accessory, a hint of mischief in his eyes.

“looks very pretty, baby,” he replied, his voice carrying a touch of teasing, “you want me to buy it for you?” he casually set his paperwork aside, his full attention now on you and the necklace you were showing him.

you smiled brightly, your eyes lighting up with excitement as you nodded eagerly. “yes, please,” you replied, your voice soft but full of anticipation.

gojo chuckled, enjoying the eager look in your eyes as you nodded. he knew you had a penchant for pretty trinkets, and he'd often indulged you whenever you had your eye on something.

“of course, darling. anything for you,” he said, his own smile broadening at your excitement. geto, who had been silently watching the exchange from the bathroom door, raised an eyebrow in amusement. he couldn't help but chime in from the side, a teasing tone in his voice. “you're so whipped,” he remarked with a smirk.

gojo glanced at geto, his grin turning into a playful smirk. “i'm working my ass off and have all this money for what if not to spoil my girlfriend?” he replied, his tone half-serious, half-teasing.

he leaned back against the pillows, folding his arms behind his head, looking completely satisfied with himself. “besides,” he added, throwing a fond smile your way while you already engrossed by your phone, “seeing her smile like that is worth every penny.”

geto chuckled as he wiped his wet hair with the towel around his broad shoulders. he leaned against the door frame and crossed his arms over his chest, his gaze going from gojo to you before settling back on the white-haired man.

“looks like our little darling has you wrapped around her little finger,” he teased, the corner of his mouth twitching with a hint of laughter. gojo smirked back at him but didn't deny it. instead, he turned his attention back to you, his eyes warm and affectionate as he regarded you.

your focus had already shifted back to your phone as they talked, completely absorbed in the world of sparkling jewels and elegant designs. the soft glow from the screen illuminated your face, and they could see the twinkle in your eyes, like twin stars, as you scrolled through the jewelry catalog.

you were in your own world, mesmerized by the shiny things, barely registering the playful exchange between gojo and geto. a small, contented smile played on your lips as you admired each piece, your excitement palpable even in your silence.

both gojo and geto chuckled at the sight of your absorption in the jewelry catalog, finding your innocent fascination as endearing as it was amusing. gojo's smirk softened into a fond smile as he observed your reaction, watching as you became immersed in the luxurious items that filled the screen.

“look at her,” geto murmured to gojo, his voice betraying his own amusement, “always lost in the world of pretty things.”

their gazes softening as they observed your captivated expression. it was endearing how easily you got distracted by material possessions, yet they couldn't deny the genuine joy it seemed to bring to you.

geto pushed off from the door frame and walked over to the bed, his footsteps soft and silent. he sat down on the edge of the bed next to you, his towel still hanging around his neck. he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

gojo spoke up, his voice smooth and laced with affection. “honey, you're gonna burn a hole through that screen the way you're staring at it.”

as geto sat down next to you, you barely noticed, still engrossed in the jewelry catalogue. gojo's words finally drew your attention back to the room, and you looked up at him, a small pout forming on your lips.

“i can't help it,” you said defensively. “they're so pretty,” you added, your eyes wandering back to your phone screen. geto chuckled softly and reached over, his hand gently taking the phone from yours. his touch was warm and light, yet firm enough to pull your focus away.

you softly protested, “hey...” your eyes followed as geto held your phone, a pout forming on your lips. “it was getting good,” you mumbled, a hint of frustration in your voice as you watched him take the phone away. your gaze lingered on the screen, clearly longing to go back to admiring the jewelry, but geto's gentle but firm hold kept you from diving back into your shiny distraction.

“i know, sweetheart, but you've been glued to that screen for so long,” geto said, his voice gentle yet authoritative. he set your phone down on the bedside table, making sure it was well-out of your reach.

gojo chuckled, enjoying the little display of rebellion in your pout and the stubbornness in your eyes. “don't worry,” he teased, “we'll make sure you get all the shiny pretty things you want.”

you opened your mouth to protest, but gojo's words took the wind out of your sails. the idea of getting all the jewelry you wanted was too tempting to resist. your pout slowly faded, replaced by a curious expression.

“all of them?” you asked, your voice soft and timid, your gaze shifted to them, a hint of skepticism in your eyes. geto smiled, a knowing smirk playing on the corner of his lips. “of course,” he reassures, “whatever your heart desires.”

you tried to hold back your smile, sucking it in for a brief moment, but the excitement was too much to contain. your eyes lit up as you finally let your smile break free, beaming brightly. “okay,” you agreed, your voice filled with happiness, the idea of getting everything you wanted making you giddy with excitement.

gojo and geto exchanged a glance, their own smiles mirroring your happiness. they loved how easy it was to make you happy. gojo chuckled, a glimmer of mischief in his eyes. “you're practically vibrating with excitement,” he teased, his hand reached out to ruffle your hair.

geto leaned in slightly, his tone serious but filled with fondness, “we'll give you everything you want, my sweetheart.”

your smile grew even wider in their words, warmth flooding your chest as you looked between them. “i’m going to wear the necklace for our anniversary,” you declared, your voice filled with excitement and affection. the thought of showing off something they got for you on such a special day made your heart flutter.

you glanced back at the phone on the bedside table, your mind already imagining how perfect it would look with your outfit. “it’s going to be perfect,” you added, your eyes shining as you thought about the upcoming celebration with them.

gojo and geto exchanged a knowing look, smiles tugging at the corners of their lips as they took in your excitement. gojo leaned back against the pillows, his eyes warm and adoring as he watched you.

“you'll look absolutely beautiful,” he said, his voice soft and affectionate, “we can't wait to see you wear it.” geto added, his own smile growing wider, “it'll be the perfect accessory to match your gorgeous dress that we'll be buying you for the occasion.”

you felt a warm flutter in your chest as gojo gently tugged on your arm, guiding you to climb onto the bed. with a soft smile, you nestled between them, the familiar comfort of being surrounded by their warmth putting you at ease. as you settled in, geto reached for your phone on the bedside table and handed it back to you, his fingers brushing lightly against yours.

“let’s find you another jewels,” geto suggested, his voice low and filled with affection as he encouraged you to continue your search. with both of them beside you, their attention fully on you, the moment felt perfect. your excitement renewed, you eagerly returned to the jewelry catalog, ready to pick out the next piece with their help.

gojo wrapped his arm around your shoulders, pulled you closer against him. his warmth emanated from his body, and you could feel it seeping into yours, while geto leaned over your shoulder, his chin resting lightly on it as he looked at the screen with you.

as you scroll through the jewelry catalog, they both chimed in, suggesting pieces here and there, offering opinions, and throwing in playful comments. every time you paused on something you liked, they made sure to remind you that they would get it for you.

[slvttyplum]

suguru standing above you and watching you sleep peacefully, spread over the bed with your mouth hung open.

his dick jumping and confusion start swirling around in his head. why was he getting hard? and why did you look so fucking good sleeping like that?

your mouth was practically begging to be used, and he hates to do this, but he has to do something.

he takes his thumb and swipes it over your bottom lip, then slowly slides it inside, sliding his thumb over the soft, wet, and warm surface.

taking his other hand and cupping your cheek, rubbing his thumb over your cheek, and bending down.

“baby… wake up.” unbuttoning his pants, then unzipping them, stepping closer to the bed.

grumbling, you slowly flicker your eyes and see suguru with his hair down right in your face, leaning closer and placing a kiss on your cheek.

an unfamiliar feeling in your mouth, and your eyes flicker down to his thumb inside your mouth.

he slips it out and slides his briefs down, and his dick flops out, and he slowly taps it on your cheek.

your eyes are fully open, but it’s a little blurry. your hand is coming up to your face to guide his twitching dick inside your mouth.

you’re still half asleep, so it’s not in your mouth all the way, just enough to suck the tip, and that’s what you do.

his hand resting on your face and his finger slowly caressing your cheek to give you that comfort and tell you to take your time.

sucking his tip while your eyes occasionally close. you can hear his soft moans and your eyes flickering up to look at his face.

a light blush coating his cheeks; even in the dark, you can see when he’s blushing.

his dick is constantly twitching in your mouth, making it feel like you have a vibrator inside your mouth because of how he’s moving.

“a little harder, baby.” his voice low and his hips inching closer towards you, his dick sliding further down your throat.

saliva easily forms inside your mouth, coating your length. the way you were mindlessly sucking him so good, he was losing his mind.

his dick twitching was enough to cum inside your mouth, slowly pulling his dick out to let the rest fall on your cheek.

“good girl.”