#taking them apart and putting them back together like a watch.

[basketonthedoorstepofthefbi]

Spencer Reid x reader, Rossi is readers father, she is not part of the BAU, Curvy and much younger than Spencer at 26, loves how smart he is and likes to learn about facts she’s just not as smart, loves baking. Smut?? Maybe?? Thank you!

comfortable (spencer reid x fem!plussize!reader)

in which you & spencer discuss telling your dad, David Rossi, about your relationship

warnings: NSFW!!! MDNI!!! smut, smol age gap, fingering, praise kink, soft!dom Spencer, pet names

word count: 3658

A/N: thanks for this request 🥹 it was really fun and I think maybe a pt 2 where they actually tell Rossi could be a lot of fun, can you imagine the way Rossi’s eyes would bug out of his head 💀

He was standing in the doorway of your off-campus apartment with this goofy grin on his face. He was older than you - only by a few years, but still in an entirely different stage of life - and he worked with your dad, but you’d never felt butterflies like these before.

It felt like movie love. Like romance novel love, and not those cheesy paperbacks with the Fabio-type model on the front. But like the more modern ones, the ones with the cartoon people on the covers and the big, colorful block letters. You had about a hundred of them on your bookcase. You could go reference them right now if you really wanted to.

Spencer Reid blinked those big, brown eyes at you and your mouth flickered uncontrollably into a soft smile. “Your doorbell doesn’t work,” Spencer pointed out by way of greeting. He still had that goofy grin on his face as you stepped aside so he could come in. You locked the door behind him.

“Didn’t I tell you that?” You mused, turning around to face him. He’d been to your apartment before, but usually trailing after you. Never meeting you here. He shook his head.

Then he lifted the bouquet of flowers in his hands and your smile grew into a full-blown grin. “What’re these for?” You squealed, taking the bouquet and immediately raising them to your nose. Baby pink carnations. He remembered your favorite flower.

He remembered everything, you reminded yourself.

“They’re your favorites. You said they reminded you of your mom’s house,” Spencer said, then took one of those sharp breaths that told you he was about to bequeath upon you a boatload of information. You barely had time to swoon over the fact that he remembered why carnations were your favorite.

“Did you know that carnations were actually mentioned in literature as far back as Ancient Greece? The name is believed to come from the Latin corona - meaning crown or wreath, as it was one of the more common flowers used to make laurels and crowns,” Spencer rattled off.

“We should make flower crowns out of them,” you proposed with an excited giggle, walking past Spencer and into the small kitchen of your apartment. He chuckled and followed you, standing behind you as you took the plastic sleeve off the bouquet, holding the flowers over the sink so water wouldn’t get on the floor. “Oh,” you murmured, not realizing how thick the stalks of the flowers were. “We can’t tie these together,” you pouted.

Spencer’s hands found your hips as he stood behind you, his palms contouring to match your curves. His lips met the side of your head, between your temple and your hairline. “You could put them on your table?” He suggested.

You felt stuck with the dripping flowers in your hand and the overwhelming desire to turn around and kiss your boyfriend silly. “Vase,” you blurted out instead of speaking like a normal human being. Spencer made your brain turn into mush.

“Where?”

“Shelf by the fridge.”

Spencer’s hands left your hips, but not before he gave them a gentle squeeze, as if to say I’ll be back soon. You turned your head to the side and watched as Spencer grabbed the vase off the shelf, returning to your side in moments to help you set the flowers in it.

This relationship was still very new. It had been about three months since you went out to lunch with your dad on some random Thursday, and he brought you back to work with him to introduce you to his team. It had been eight weeks since Spencer took you out for the first time - dinner and a walk around the nearest park, where Spencer had grabbed your hand for the first time, where he’d rambled off some fact about willow trees you couldn’t be bothered to remember because shortly after, he’d pressed his lips to yours and you’d made out underneath one.

He was away a lot, which was to be expected, given the nature of the BAU’s work. But he called you when he could, and he made every effort to see you when they weren’t on assignment. You couldn’t really talk with him about work - “it’s classified,” he’d always say with a thin-lipped smile, as if to say he’d really like to tell you, but he just couldn’t.

“What’re you thinking about?” Spencer asked as you floated from the sink to set the vase of flowers on the kitchen table. His voice always pulled you out of your own head.

“Nothing in particular, really,” you told him, turning to face him. Spencer reached a hand out and took yours, tugging you to him. “You, mostly,” you teased as his palms lay against your hips. “I think it might be time.”

“Time?” Spencer asked as he craned his neck down to kiss you, briefly, on the lips. So, his mind was obviously elsewhere.

“Time,” you confirmed. “To tell my dad. About us.”

Spencer pulled his head back so he could look at you properly, his fingers dug into the soft, sensitive flab above your hip bones, and you scrunched your nose up because it tickled, resisting the urge to giggle. “You do, do you?” He asked, a playful smile crossing his lips. “And here I thought you enjoyed the secrecy.”

“No, as a matter of fact, I hate it,” you laughed breathily. “I hate lying to my dad.”

“For the record, we haven’t lied about anything,” Spencer pointed out. “We’ve just withheld information. It’s entirely different.”

That was true, you supposed. When your dad asked you last week at your monthly dinner at his house if you were seeing anyone, you just nodded and told him you weren’t ready to tell him about it yet, and he respected that. You didn’t not tell him it was his coworker.

“I guess so,” you replied, your lips pursing into the corner of your mouth.

To Spencer’s credit, the whole keeping-it-from-your-dad thing was your idea. You’d done it for a multitude of reasons - mostly so you could figure out if this thing with Spencer was going to go anywhere before your dad was in the loop, so you could go with Spencer at your own pace, get to know him without any third-party interventions.

“We’ve talked about this, Y/N. It’s not anything to feel guilty about. Yeah?” Spencer reminded you, lifting one of his hands from your hips to curl his index finger and tuck it under your chin. He guided your gaze to meet his. “You’re an adult, and you can see whoever you want to see. When and if you tell Rossi is entirely up to you.”

“I know,” you nodded, sighing softly, your arms lifting and reaching up to wind around his neck. Spencer’s lips broke out in a soft smile at the action. “Isn’t it weird for you at work, though?”

“Not really?” Spencer phrased it as a question, shrugging his shoulders a little bit. “There’s never really time for personal conversation when we’re on a case, and if there is, I usually just deflect to someone else. Although, there was a close call while we were on our way back this last time,” he began, the hand under your chin dropping and moving back to your hip, guiding you back so you were flush against the kitchen counter.

“Oh, god, what happened?” You asked as you hopped up so your rear splayed out atop the counter, and Spencer moved to stand between your legs. Despite the lack of gap between your thighs, Spencer’s lanky frame fit comfortably between them. His fingers spread palm-side down against the tops of your thighs. You were biting your lip as your boyfriend continued with his story.

“I guess I was grinning down at a text you’d sent me, the one about your Short Fiction Analysis exam,” he explained, referring to one of the classes you were taking this term. “You’d said you thought Shirley Jackson was underrated, that The Lottery was one of your favorite short stories ever and you would stone anyone who disagreed,” you snickered at this, and Spencer’s hands slid just slightly further up your thighs. “That was the same reaction I had,” Spencer pointed out with a small laugh. “And Rossi’d been the one to catch it. He said that my expression was one that could only be caused by a beautiful woman.”

You shook your head, rolling your eyes. That sounded like your dad, all right. “And what did you say?” You asked, willing the blush in your cheeks to go away. Spencer knew already that he made you feel like you were on fire with just a simple touch, but still. Your lack of experience and the fact that you were younger than him, still in college… it always made you feel even more flustered.

“I said I could neither confirm nor deny,” Spencer laughed self-deprecatingly, rolling his eyes at himself. “And then I changed the subject. I pulled Derek in the conversation and asked him about his girlfriend.”

“Very strategic,” you commented with a bob of your throat.

“But if you want to tell him, and you think you’re ready, then I think we should,” Spencer added, and you smiled just slightly at this.

“Okay,” you smiled hazily, just as Spencer bent down to kiss you. His hands traveled to the waistband of your sweatpants and your breath hitched in your throat.

“This okay?” Spencer asked just as his long fingers curled around the waistband on either side of your hips.

You’d pulled the sweatpants all the way up over your belly button, and your tummy was incredibly ticklish. So your voice was breathy and shaky when you responded. “Mmhm.”

“If it’s not, you need to tell me,” Spencer reminded you in a low whisper, his lips planting along kissing your neck, each one tacky like a postage stamp.

“It’s okay,” you reiterated, forcing your voice to sound more full. Your hands had moved to lay flat against his chest, but now your fingers curled around the crinkly fabric of his blue dress shirt. You’d never dated anyone who dressed so grown up before. “I’m good.”

“Good,” Spencer murmured as his lips traveled up to your chin. He was mapping out your entire face jawline with his lips, until finally your mouths met. He was slow and intentional at first, like he was savoring it, probably making observatory notes in his head. When his tongue teased your lips apart, you allowed him in, a small whimper escaping you.

You had scooted forward on the countertop, squeezing Spencer’s body between your thighs. Your toes curled as one of Spencer’s hands lifted to cradle the back of your head, holding your face to his like an oxygen mask. And he kept breathing you in, his tongue expertly dancing with yours, kissing you so that when he finally pulled back, you couldn’t breathe.

You were panting, your whole face red as Spencer’s hand moved from the back of your head to one of your full cheeks. His thumb swiped across your cheek and the corners of his mouth just flickered upward. “I really missed you,” he whispered, his hand moving to tuck your hair behind your ear. His other hand still rested on the waistband of your pants, fingers dipping beneath it and padding around your stretch marks.

“I missed you, too,” you murmured back, and Spencer just smiled at this lazily. “Do you… do you want to…”

Spencer’s smile slowly turned into a patient smirk. “Do I want to what?” He asked all-knowingly, his eyes meeting yours. Your cheeks flushed again, bashful and embarrassed to even ask him.

“Do you want to go to my bed?” You exhaled, and Spencer’s head dipped to press a brief kiss to your lips.

“What makes you think I can’t take care of you right here?” He smirked, and the hand on your cheek floated back down to your waistband. “Can I please take your sweatpants off, pretty girl?”

Your breath stopped and you nodded. “Yeah, but… Spence?” You pressed the pads of your fingers into his chest. His gorgeous brown eyes met yours.

“What is it?”

“If you’re going to, like, you know, right here,” you began, your chest rising and falling slowly. “I just don’t think I can, like, spread my legs apart enough for you to…”

“Would you be more comfortable lying down, Y/N?” Spencer asked. What you loved was that he wasn’t impatient about it, he wasn’t annoyed. He could just tell you were having trouble articulating your concerns and he wanted to help. He was reading your mind - well, scientifically speaking, he was probably reading your behavior and your body language - but he just got it so quick.

“Yeah,” you nodded, sighing softly in relief that he understood.

“Then let’s lie you down,” Spencer agreed. He kissed you once more, briefly, stepped back, holding his hands out to help you off the counter. Your knees were weak for multiple reasons as you wobbled towards your bedroom, letting Spencer guide you so you were flat on your back, looking up at him. “Is that better?”

“Yeah,” you exhaled as Spencer hovered over you. One knee outside your leg, the other very much in between them, his hands gripping your shoulders. Spencer craned down to kiss you again, as if a car had been jump started, and you were once again lost in it, unable to think about anything else but the man on top of you and how much you loved the way he touched you.

He wasn’t afraid of your body or how you’d react - rather, he seemed to find arousal in you being comfortable. His hands moved down to your waistband once again, obviously his fixation for the day, and he asked you again if it was okay that he remove your pants. You just nodded and told him, “yes.”

Even though the word had come out softly and raspy, in the back of your mind, you were screaming for the love of god, yes. If you stop touching me, I might commit heinous crimes.

Soon your pants were off, with some strategic shimmying over your hips and thighs, and you watched with a slightly amused expression as Spencer tossed them aside carelessly. He never did anything carelessly, so the action was a nice ego boost, knowing you could cause his system to glitch just as much as he could yours.

Spencer’s hands went back to your hips, sliding under the bottom hem of your t-shirt, inching closer to your breasts as your pelvis lifted, searching desperately for any kind of friction, your center making contact with Spencer’s knee between your legs. He dug his knee in a little further, your underpants acting as a thin divider.

“Can I take your shirt off, beautiful?” Spencer asked, and all the nerve endings in your face went numb.

“When are you gonna lose some clothes, pal?” You asked breathlessly, taken aback by your own sassiness. Spencer was too, but he laughed, a brimful sound that would have knocked you over if you weren’t already lying down.

Spencer’s laugh still lined his voice as he looked down at you. “I guess it’s only fair,” he chuckled. “Which would you-“

“Shirt,” you tugged at his collar pathetically, your fingers shaking as you tried to undo the buttons.

That stupid smirk rose on his face and Spencer kissed your nose teasingly before he took his hands in yours. “Need me to get those for you?” He asked, and you nodded. Deftly, his fingers worked the buttons until the shirt was shrugging off his shoulders. You watched with your mouth hung ajar like a garden gate.

He knew exactly what he was doing.

Spencer bent down at his waist again to continue his cartographic exploration of your neck and jaw, his kisses feather light and so, so frustrating. His hands slid up your shirt again, gliding smoothly over your supple skin, his fingertips tracing your stretch marks. “Now that we’re on a level playing field,” Spencer said between kisses. “Can I please take off your shirt?”

A sound escaped you, a combination of breathy laughter and a desperate whine. “Yeah,” you murmured. Your hands moved to run through his perfect hair. It was so soft, so clean. How did he have time to keep it so clean? Your fingertips dug at his scalp as Spencer’s knee dug once again into the space between your legs. You groaned as Spencer guided you to lift your torso so your t-shirt could be tugged off over your head.

“You’re so beautiful,” he commented, and you felt your cheeks redden. He kissed your lips, his swollen and plump against yours as his hands traveled down. He swung the knee that was in between your legs over so that he fully straddled you now. He seemed to want to be everywhere - your breasts, your stomach, your lips, between your legs. It was like he couldn’t decide.

“What do you want, Spence?” You asked him, and Spencer’s eyes snapped to yours. Your tongue jutted out to moisten your lips.

“What do I want?” Spencer repeated, looking at you with an incredulous expression. “I want to make you feel good, angel. Do you want me to do that for you? Do you want me to make you feel good?”

“God. Yes.” You huffed. Spencer’s mouth was on yours in an instant, kissing you repeatedly as his hand traveled down. Hovering over your underwear, Spencer’s thumb pressed against your fabric-covered center and you felt him groan, the sound reverberating through your mouth.

“You’re so wet, Y/N,” he observed and your back arched instinctively, needing him.

“Spence,” you rasped.

“Say it again,” Spencer’s eyes met yours and his brow arched just as you felt him dip his index and middle fingers beneath the waistband of your underwear.

“Please, Spencer,” you managed to get out.

“That’s it,” he smirked, kissing your lips once as a reward before sliding your underpants down your thighs. You lifted your legs and he helped you out of them, tossing them aside like they were just collateral damage. His index finger was quick to tease at your folds, and you wondered if he had been thinking about this all day. “Open your legs a little bit more for me, angel,” he instructed.

You succumbed to his request almost instantly, and when Spencer’s finger rubbed against your clit, you had to bite back a moan. “What have I told you about holding back?” Spencer chastised you, and your eyes locked onto his. “I told you, don’t ever muffle yourself, baby. I want to hear every noise.”

“Spencer…”

“Do you want me to stop?”

“No. Don’t you dare.”

“That’s my girl,” Spencer smirked, and began to pump his two fingers into you. Your legs began to close on instinct, but Spencer’s other hand pushed your hair out of your eyes. “Keep ‘em open, beautiful,” he said patiently, his fingers increasing exponentially in speed. “You hear how wet you are?”

“Mmm,” was all you could say as the filthy, wet sounds emitted from your middle.

“And that’s all for me, isn’t it, sweetheart?”

“Yeah,” you choked out as your hips bucked towards his fingers.

Spencer’s fingers were relentless as he fucked you with them. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, your vision going white and hazy from the pleasure, from your walls tightening around Spencer’s incredibly deft digits.

“You’re doing so good, baby. Just hang on a little longer, yeah?” Spencer cooed, his voice genuinely, tooth-achingly sweet, and you felt his lips beneath your ear. He kissed the skin there, and you felt him move his lips up to your earlobe, taking it briefly between his teeth. “You’re doing so good, baby,” he reiterated in a low whisper.

Your hands clawed desperately against his bare back for some iota of purchase, moving from his back to his hair, to his neck as he fucked you senseless. You were getting so close, whiny, needy little whimpers escaping you as Spencer continued to pump into you. And finally - finally - you reached your peak. Spencer didn’t let up, letting you ride your orgasm for as long as you could. Stars blurred your vision, and all you could see were those dark brown eyes looking so lovingly down at you.

And when you finally started to come down, Spencer’s movements slowed. He was never the type to immediately pull out. No, he merely turned down the intensity as you caught your breath, rubbing your clit gently as his fingers - soaked with you - slowly came out of you.

“How do you feel?” he asked as you panted, your eyes meeting his.

You opened your mouth to say something - anything, but no words came out. “Baby, use your words,” Spencer encouraged, and you huffed, frustrated with yourself, that you couldn’t say much of anything right now.

“G-good,” you whispered with a hoarse voice. Spencer used his clean hand to brush your hair out of your face. “Very good,” you added.

“Very descriptive,” Spencer teased with a smirk, and you were too ravished to play back.

You managed to prop yourself up on to your elbows just as Spencer moved off of you, laying down on his side so he could kiss your neck soothingly. “Y/N?” He asked.

“Yeah?” you breathed, turning so you were on your side, so you could face him.

“I’m in love with you,” he whispered, and your eyes widened. You thought for a second he might be playing some sick joke, but then you looked in his eyes and saw how clear, how serious they were. Your lips flickered into a small, tired yet ridiculously happy smile. “You don’t have to say it back if you-“

“I love you, too,” you whispered, your lips meeting his in a long, slow, lazy kiss, feeling deliriously, stupidly happy.

——

A/N 2: I’ve never actually written smut before (I’ve read plenty lmfao) so if something is weird OR if you have any suggestions plzzzzz tell me I can take constructive criticism on this front xD

#spencer reid fanfic #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #basketonthedoorstepofthefbi #criminal minds spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x plus size reader #plus size reader #asks

[ash5monster01]

Turnstiles

Chapter Four - I’ve Loved These Days 🎶

Pairing: Steve Harrington x FemReader

Warnings: fluff, language, mentions of childhood trauma, mentions of death, abandonment issues, slight sadness.

Summary: You and Steve get your first place together and even if it isn’t glamorous, it’s good enough for the both of you as you leave the old days behind.

word count: 2.6k

Three ←→ Five

Masterlist

Summer 1988

We hide our hearts from harder times

There were so many boxes. It seemed to be a never ending pile from the back of the moving truck, one neither of you could really afford but needed. Even with Dustin and Robin helping carry each new box in, it seemed every time you returned to the truck there was just as many if not more. You couldn’t help the soft sigh that escaped your lips as you looked at the very daunting pile that you knew would take you more than likely a month to finally put all in place.

“Don’t tell me we’re giving up already” that familiar sultry voice whispered in your ear, arms snaking around your waist from behind.

“Not giving up, just trying to gain the courage” you tell him, a small smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. You knew as much as Steve would try to help he would also play with everything he unpacked before actually putting it away, making the process much longer than it needed to be.

“It’s not that bad” Steve said with a soft shake of his head, small tufts of hair falling loose from the action.

“Yes it is, you packed every trophy you have ever earned in your entire life” you tell him, pointing to the large box labeled ‘Steve’s Achievements’.

“Hey I earned those, I can’t just throw them out” Steve pouts as you break out of his arms, doing your best attempt at climbing up into the truck to grab another box.

“I know handsome, I just have to tease” you say leaning down and he’s happy to bring his pouty lips to yours and leave a quick kiss. As much as you teased, you had felt bad. When Steve announced to his parents you were officially getting a place together they decided to put the house up for sale since they were never there anyways. As much as Steve didn’t have a great childhood it was still the only home he had ever known. You knew it took a toll on him and forced him to pack every single one of his belongings instead of the necessities.

“Hey dingus, why are we the only ones carrying shit?” Robin called out as she stepped out the doors of the small apartment, spotting you juggling a new box while Steve lingered at the back of the truck.

“I need my rest Robin, if Rosy’s shit wasn’t so heavy” he called back and you shot him a quick glare which made him laugh softly.

“You’re an idiot” Robin mumbled as you handed her the box in your arms and picked up a new one.

“What the hell Steve! Why are the girls the only one’s carrying your shit?” Dustin called out, exiting the home as well and you and Robin quickly erupt in giggles as Steve groans out.

“I don’t have a box in my arms for two seconds and I get harassed. What the hell is this?” Steve says mostly to himself, jumping up into the truck much easier than you did and you watch as he goes for one of the small boxes.

“Uh-uh mister. You’re bringing that one in” you say, nodding your head to the trophy box and Steve rolls his eyes before doing what he was told.

“God you’re so whipped” Robin snorts before starting back for the apartment ready to unload the boxes as fast as she can.

“I’m not whipped!” he called out quickly in defense but Dustin just laughed and grabbed a box for himself.

“It’s okay Stevie, you’re allowed to be whipped. I definitely am for you” you tell him sweetly and he grins, the oddly large trophy box now in his arms.

“I love you” he hums out, leaning and pressing a chaste kiss to your lips before hopping out of the truck. Your heart flutters due to the sentiment, never getting tired of the words he finally spoke a year and a half ago. Well actually wrote but ever since then he told you every chance he got and you loved it every time.

It had been over three years since you met Steve Harrington and you were pretty sure you’d never get tired of him. He came to you when you needed him most and you did the same for him. Since that day you hadn’t spent a day apart and making this decision, deciding to live together, after years of working and saving money, you had no regrets at all. This was it, he was your soulmate and this was only the beginning of a lifetime of years ahead. Small apartment or not, he was yours and that alone was a breath of relief.

“Need an invitation?” Robin called to you from the small house and you just chuckled before grabbing your things and making your way to the house. A house that would probably hold you and Steve for another few years, be your shelter from the storm, and despite its empty walls and bare floors, you couldn’t wait to make it a home.

It’s dusk by the time all the boxes are unloaded into your home and Robin and Dustin are long gone. Just looking at the mess you know you’re too tired to face it until tomorrow, so you make do with what you have. You make quick work of making a bed of the mattress on the floor, saving the frame building for tomorrow. When it looks decent enough to sleep on you make your way out of your room to find Steve. Much to your surprise he’s in the living room, boxes now cleared off the coffee table, and take out from the local diner on the table.

“I made dinner” he grins at you, sitting on the ground as he pours you a glass of wine in a mug. You giggle at the thought of it being the only thing he could find and join him on the floor.

“What’s this for?” you curiously ask, taking the mug from his hand and smiling at the food and candle he had set up.

“This is to taking our time. The last few years have felt like a race to the finish line and we finally made it” he says, recalling all the long hours and savings account expenses. Had it not been for the alternator going in Steve’s BMW you would’ve been here much sooner but at least you were here.

“Cheers to that” you say, clinking the mug against his own before taking a sip. Steve just smiles and looks to the simple plate of food. He loved that you both could live your lives so nonchalant, spend your nights living a luxurious lifestyle even if it’s just a small apartment.

“The money comes, the money goes, but we finally made it baby” he tells you and you quickly kiss him before grabbing the wrapped burger that your stomach grumbles for. Not realizing how hungry you were after a whole day of moving.

His words wash a sense of comfort over you. Knowing now you could spend your days a bit more relaxed, eat dinner in silk robes and light lamps for atmosphere. Even if the apartment was a passing phase in the start of the rest of your life you were both going long. Hanging hopes on chandeliers while gaining weight and sleeping in late. You had loved those days before living together but it was time to change your ways and love these new days. The days meant for just the two of you before something more comes along, something bigger.

“Did your parents say when they’re selling the house?” you ask around a bite of your burger, trying to get a better read on him and how he feels.

“By the end of the month, Dad says if I need anything to get it by then” he mutters, heart clenching over the fact. He hated that empty house, despised it, but these last few years it wasn’t really empty.

“I’m sorry honey” you tell him, wiping your face with a napkin and he shrugs.

“It’s okay, I was meant to move out sometime. Just wish it was still somewhat mine, you know? They were never there so much it sorta always felt like it did. Then when I started spending time with the kids and you there, I guess I just always imagined I’d stay there, raise my kids, teach em how to swim in the pool and how to ride their bike in the driveway. Make it more of a home then it ever was to me” Steve explains, eyes cast over the table and lost in a memory that hadn’t happened yet. Your heart instantly softens to the boy, hand reaching out to settle in his own just like you did when you first met.

“I’m sorry Stevie, but just think about how we can make those memories in our own home. A home we’ll grow old in and our kids can visit whenever and bring their kids with them” you tell him and Steve can’t help the small grin that cracks along his face at the sentiment.

“Is this you saying it’s you and I forever Rosy?” he inquires, devious eyes glimmering into your own and you laugh, cheeks flushing red.

“Well I’d say moving in together kinda deals the deal” you tell him and Steve grins before reaching over to grab your waist. Much to your surprise he lifts you effortlessly over and into his lap where his face nuzzles into your neck.

“Then it’s you and me forever, I promise” he tells you, warm breath tickling your skin. Now you both could indulge in things refined and hide your hearts from the harder times.

This marked the start of drowning your doubts in dry champagne and dreaming of your future. A future that if you dreamed hard enough could include real pearls, foreign cars, caviar and cabernet wine. Yet the real riches was a future with each other, a future that included kids and endless memories to be shared. You didn’t really care if you only ever lived in this apartment, the boy curled up next to you was the real dream.

“Another toast” you say, reaching for your mug and handing Steve his own. He follows right along, the bright red liquid sloshing up the side. This was something you wanted to say before the old versions of yourself end and the new ones begin.

“A toast to how it’s been and to all the new things we get to love. Including each other” you say and Steve happily clinks the mug against your own as you both tip back the sweet wine since Steve hated dry.

“I’ve loved these days and I’ll love the new ones too” Steve mutters into your neck and you smile and settle against him, finally relishing in the fact you were both sat in your shared living room. A space you and Steve could share while you got big wig jobs and engaged. A space designed for the both of you to grow as a couple who was meant to last forever.

“You think we’ll get tired of each other?” you voice your worries, knowing now that you shared such close quarters you were bound to find flaws within one another.

“Maybe but I’ll always love you more, and isn’t that how it’s supposed to work?” he asks, voice a soft hum into the late night of the barren home. You had a lot of work ahead of you but at this very moment you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

“I guess so” you smile, a softness twisting in your gut at how in love you are with this man beside you.

“Wait! I have an idea!” Steve suddenly says, sliding you delicately off his lap and to the ground. He’s up in a second, eyeing the labels of each of the boxes in search of something you’re not sure of. You watch with curiosity, waiting to see what the boy could possibly be up to now.

“Ah-ha!” he lets out once he finds what his looking for, large hands pulling back the folded cardboard pieces and digging inside. It’s when the familiar flash of silver is revealed you realize he’s in search of his boombox.

Finding the outlet Steve makes work of prepping the stereo for some mood music. It’s no surprise when the familiar flash of a Billy Joel album is pulled from the bottom of the box. He grumbled only slightly when he realized he needs to rewind the tape, smashing the button with an annoyed scowl. Yet when the tape finally spins back to the beginning, a grin covers his lips instead, as a familiar song starts to fill the room. Say Goodbye to Hollywood, the classic beginning of Billy’s 1976 album Turnstiles. A true testament to his talent, and one of Steve’s favorites.

“Dance with me?” he asks, hand held down to you on the ground and you don’t even hesitate to clasp your own with his, allowing him to lift you up and into his arms before spinning you around the room.

“Tell me something good?” you ask him, heart thumping softly against his own as you both sway around the living room, the barren walls soon to hold a lifetime of memories.

“The first time I heard this song I was spending the night at my Grandparents. I was nine and we were all in the kitchen making cookies. I remember my Grandma smelling like fresh flowers and the way my Grandpas laugh made you feel safe. Turnstiles had just come out, Billy’s latest album and Grandpa knew I hadn’t heard it yet. So he played the vinyl while I frosted cookies and this song began to play. Now every time I hear it I’m back in that kitchen just happy to have two people who really loved me” Steve says, a soft sadness cast over his eyes and you can’t stop yourself from pulling him close and leaving a soft kiss on his lips.

“I really would’ve liked to meet them” you whisper, hand curling at the back of his neck and fingers grazing the small tufts of hair there. He smiles and gives a soft squeeze to your waist, pulling you impossibly closer.

“They would’ve loved you. My Grandpa would point out how smart you are, tease me about it too. Ask how I got a girl like you to date a doofus like me. And my Grandma, she would bake you pies and insist on sewing all your clothes when they got old and worn. Talk about how much she wished she had a granddaughter” Steve says like he knows and it’s because he does. They were the two people in his life who always made him feel safe and he knew them better than anyone. It sucked they weren’t here but knowing how much they would’ve loved you is comfort enough.

“I see them in you. In the way you take care of the kids and in the way you love me” you say and the look he gives you is different than any look you have ever received. Your heart accelerates just at the sight and before you can even process it the boy is kissing you like his life depends on it.

“I’m going to love these days too” he suddenly says, pulling back from the kiss a little breathless. A small laugh escapes your lips as he hugs you close.

“Yeah, well I count on having many of them”

Taglist: @slvtforstve @keerygal @goosy-goose @livsters @blckburd @loveshotzz @ohwauwdoritos @superblysubpar @southereads @amataadriana @violet2022 @mxrcjqckspnchqsc @madaboutjoe @thunderstomp-and-tequila @justdamnpeachy @micheledawn1975 @fangfatale @kingstevesgf @notlilyyyy @eddiesguitarskills @palmtreesx3 @momospeaches47 @pbs-theundeadmaggot @xuimhao @lianna75 @lvjmel @sadbitchfangirl @halflifejess @starkleila @ellharrington @avobabe87

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#steve harrington series #steve harrington fic #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington imagines #steve harrington #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x femreader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington x fem #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n fluff #steve harrington x y/n smut #billy joel #joe keery fanfiction #joe keery steve harrington #joe keery smut #joe keery fic #joe keery imagines #joe keery stranger things #joe keery x reader #joe keery imagine #joe keery #joe keery x femreader #joe keery x fem!reader #joe keery x y/n

[cellard0ors]

80’s Hackearney Drabble idea, comin’ in hot!

Snack Time at Hackett’s Quarry

- popsicles or soft serve ice cream maybe?

- maybe something more wholesome, like juicy watermelon slices that inevitably dribble down someone’s chin?

- do the campers and counsellors ever have to do their own baking, and if so, poor young Travis having to put up with various “bun in oven” and “buttered muffin” jokes from the others

Hell yes, sweet treats!

It's the second Saturday in June at Hackett's Summer Camp and apparently it's known as Sweet Saturday. Laura's informed that this is the day all the campers work on making sweet treats to trade with one another.

The treats don't have to be particularly difficult - just fun to put together. Laura's never considered herself much of a cook - hell, before this she wasn't even a very good waitress, aka the person who delivers the food - but luckily she gets the youngest campers.

The idea of using fruit juice to make easy popsicles via ice trays pleases them immensely and even Laura finds herself having fun as she helps the little kids carefully pour their chosen juice into the tray's little cups - sticking toothpicks in their centers.

As the evening rolls in the treats start being swapped and Laura can't help but feel a glow of pride as she sees the tiny popsicles floating around among the cookies, muffins, and slices of cake.

The cake really intrigues her, as it doesn't look like an ordinary cake, which she discovers is the truth when she's presented with a slice by Chris, "Here! Take some icebox cake!"

It's always beyond bizarre when Laura is faced with a young Chris. After all, he was - in many ways - the kick off for her woes in 2021. But now, in 1986, he's young and innocent and eager to please as he forces the small paper plate on her, "C'mon - join T and me. We've got a great spot!"

Laura gamely follows along, seeing Travis resting against a tall, thick tree near the dock. Travis is picking at his food, as if unsatisfied with it when he catches sight of her with his sibling.

His back goes ramrod straight even as he pushes his glasses by the bridge up his nose. He gives her that awkward (annoying) endearing (goofy) smile as he greets her with a quiet, "Uh, hey."

"Hey." Laura returns just as noncommittally even as Chris takes a seat next to Travis and beams, "Brought Laura over to snack with us. Hope that's okay."

Travis shoots Chris a look that Laura recognizes as a secret, brother-based look. While she doesn't have siblings of her own, Laura's been friends with, and seen enough, brothers and sisters shoot one another that look - the inside kind that only they understand, to get that that's what she's seeing.

However, if the look shot his way bothers him, Chris doesn't show it as he digs into his large collection of treats, chocolate melting all over his fingers as he breaks apart a cookie

Laura sits across from the brothers and watches with quiet amusement until Chris asks, "You have a favorite yet, Laura? These cookies from Nancy's group is my favorite so far."

"I haven't tried them yet."

"Oh! You gotta! Here!" Chris offers her half of the cookie he just tore into and she takes it, feeling a slight pang of guilt as she does so.

Jesus, she led the charge to kill this guy in the future and here he's giving her a cookie. Still, she pushes the thought aside and tries to act normal, biting into the treat and trying to enjoy it.

Chris nudges Travis and chuckles, "Don't worry! She has some of your cake too!"

Travis looks at her and Laura feels like she's chewing in the most unattractive way possible so she swallows a big hunk of what's left in her mouth and then coughs, clearing her throat as she holds up the paper plate Chris gave her.

Travis's lips squirm like he's fighting off a smile. Chris has no resistance, smiling widely, "It's our Grandma's recipe! Ma taught us!"

"She did, huh." Laura tries to keep the bitterness out of her voice. Mrs. Hackett is the last thing she wants to hear about when she's trying to enjoy something sweet.

"Yup! It's got vanilla pudding and graham crackers and whipped cream and-!"

"She doesn't need the ingredient list, bud." Travis grumbles and Chris rolls his eyes, "Whatever. You're just upset they didn't have watermelons this year."

Laura's eyebrows rise, "You like watermelons?"

Every time she learns something new about Travis it's always so... surprising. She can't say why, other than the fact that - as her jailor - he'd seemed so remote and distant. So cold. As if he didn't like anything past being a bastard.

But in this time - when he's young and open - she's slowly uncovered more and more about him and each thing seems more startling than the last.

"You bet he does! Sometimes we have spitting contests with the seeds!"

Travis looks appropriately mortified at this and Laura can't help the genuine laugh that escapes her. Clearly hoping to continue his entertaining streak, Chris rattles on, "You should see him go! His face gets all wet and sloppy and the juice dribbles down his chin from chowing down and he makes all these noises and-!"

"Shut it, doofus!" Travis hisses and he pushes hard at his brother's shoulder. Normally Laura might object, but Chris's innocent descriptions and the way Travis's face started to turn pink hints to something that makes her feel... peculiar.

Like she'd like to see Travis's face wet with the clear juice of the watermelon. His lips shiny...

Laura fans at herself and excuses it as an unexpected spike in the temperature, nevermind that the sun is setting. She takes a bite of the icebox cake and hums in approval. It is pretty good and Chris, over his momentary annoyance with Travis, smiles again, "You like it?!"

"Yeah." She confesses, feeling like it's a dirty secret, "I do."

"Good! He made it!" Chris boasts, pointing to Travis and Laura gets the sudden impression that the younger Hackett is attempting to play as a wingman.

Good lord.

Travis, for his part, just avoids her eyes and shakes his head, "It's nothing. Besides, I had help."

"That's me!" Chris crows, "I was in his group!"

"Yeah, yeah - you did okay, squirt." Travis ruffles his brother's hair and Laura can't help but grin. Much like the desserts they've been consuming, the Hackett brothers are a sweet pair.

So much so that it's a shame for her to know how things end. And how they end bittersweet.

#hackearney #travis x laura #surprise Chris Hackett appearance!

[isabelguerra]

i’m making a new post 4 this bc i ended up thinking way harder than i thought i would which resulted in writing a small essay on fucking johnny jhonny. so i’m going to put this the tag and make everyone look at it. bc hes a cool character. heres the og post ok enjoy ily

@spoopyspoony i mean yea if we were dealing with ch1 johnny maybe. but we’re not, so i’m operating on 1 very important key factor here: we’ve ALREADY SEEN johnny not telling things to his friends!

this starts during hitball, the games’ ending is our as catalyst. we see that the words and actions of both hijack and max- hijacks bully/‘good violence’ monologue, max getting his arm broken to save a guy whos only been a jerk to him- begin sowing self doubt in johnny’s view of himself and his archetype role as School Bully. we even see this in action during the rope scene, ollie asks if somethings bothering him and johnny brushes it off in favor of deflecting. when ollie is mistakenly believed to say they wont use violence to get information out of ed, johnny jumps at it. we SEE ollie and rj give each other side eyes at his weird behavior. they dont pry, which is nice of them. but it also means he’s not talking to them, or anyone, about whats bothering him until we get to the ed scenes. there’s a lot going on in the ed scenes that i’m not gonna go into because it gives me a headache but my point is that johnny told a TOTAL STRANGER abt his teenage dodgeball-induced ego death crisis before he told rj, who is Right There.

‘yeah but johnnys fine by the end’ johnnys fine by the end bc he goes back to being cool w/ hurting ppl if it means his friends would still like him and everything stayed the same. u really think tht if it ended w him actually giving more entertainment to the idea ‘should i stop being a bully?’ instead of bouncing back immediately, if he was still made to question his friends’ love for him if he changed, he’d have the same happy outcome? miss me w that 

so ultimately it’s not that johnny doesn’t trust his friends enough to tell them this secret/problem, but that their good graces and friendship mean SO much to him that we see him start to not tell them things if he believes it would jeopardize that friendship.

‘ok but thats why johnny wouldn’t tell his friends about THAT. its still doesnt answer why he wouldn’t tell them about THIS’ good point! here’s what we know: johnny LOVES his friends. johnny would do anything for his friends. including putting himself in harms way and keeping things from them if he’s worried it’ll negatively impact the existence of their friendship. so i’ll counter: ‘johnny has no reason to tell his friends about this shit’? no dude johnny has EVERY reason not to tell his friends this shit! his friends ARE the reason! johnny’s so ride or die that he’ll die if it means his friends can still ride.

forge’s little soliloquy on ch5pg97 hints at a perspective of spectral existence that’s much more grim than the ‘cool superpowered kids fight ghosts’ premise we’re led into the comic with. soooooo if this new change in his life were to. say. put himself or his loved ones in danger. actual, non-teenage, ‘my-last-medium-met-her-end-as-a-result-of-this-world,-and-there-is-nothing-that-can-ensure-you-will-not-meet-the-same-fate’ danger. or! not even put them in danger! just simply lead him to believe that them just KNOWING that danger exists for him, and there’s next to nothing they can do about it? to have the friends he cares so much about constantly worried about him? if they knew, a whole lot would change. to johnny, i think that guilt would be pretty tough to deal with

well. they cant worry if they don’t know, yeah?

#i dont always LIKE zacks writing but im still gonna look at it seriously and respect them as a writer. begrudgingly. #paranatural #johnny jhonny #character analysis #my writing #i had to retype this because my phone glitched and deleted two paragraphs and wouldnt let me undo the delete and i am so mad. #this isnt meant 2 be a shutdown btw i just LOVE character studies and really digging in to what makes them tick #taking them apart and putting them back together like a watch. #so if uve got a counterpoint or smth i missed genuinely id LOOOOVE 2 hear it this stuffs so much fun 4 me #im a literature studies minor. i study the literature. leeterachoore #anyway all this to say 'yes isabel and johnny ARE more similar than we give them credit for yes they WOULD be a good duo and yes i DO ne #ed them to talk. will it happen. no! but i can sit here and have fun with my little notes documents. wish fulfillment #ngl i really thought about Not typing all this. and instead writing 'my au my rules rule 1 i do what i want' #i did not end up doing that. evidently. #johnny disease

[edoro]

They are both trashy New England baby boys turned interdimensional mad scientist war criminals, separated by centuries and about 200 miles, oh no. The parallels are too intense.

the culture clash between "1960s Jewish Jersey boy" and "1600s colonial Puritan" is sure going to be something but i truly believe that their mutual love of being absolutely cuckoo bonkers fucking crazy and also committing acts of mad scientific hubris can overcome any differences in philosophy or worldview they may have

#also like the freaknasty sex is going to carry them through a lot of arguments #ford can't help it he's a sucker for a man who invents new ways of spitting in the face of god and nature #finding out that belos is a necromantic monstrosity held together with spit prayers bubblegum and homebrew glyph magic carved into his skin #will only make ford more into him #he wants to put belos in a jar and study him. he wants to literally take him apart and put him back together. #look ultimately he's going to run into the same problem where like he's not actually cool with genocide #but also he is going to fall HARD for belos's manipulation and nice hair and big ol baby blues first #he just wants someone who will gleefully enable all of his worst impulses. in a soothing and reassuring voice. #and make them all sound completely reasonable. is that so wrong? #(yes ford yes it is but shh don't even worry about it you're doing GREAT) #(this trainwreck is so fun to watch) #belord #asks

[buckyalpine]

Give me Beefy Bucky who is shy yet obsessed with how soft and little you are compared to him. Compared to his thick, wide shoulders. His meaty, firm thighs. His huge, heavy balls. His perfectly fat, split you in half cock.

“C‘mon bunny, put ‘em both in your mouth” he whines with puppy eyes, spreading his legs more while you nearly choke trying to fit his balls in your mouth. The delicious scent of his musk makes you moan with your mouth full, his heavy sac already throbbing. “Want you to suck them both at the same time”

“S’too big” you pout, cupping and rolling him in your palm, giving your aching jaw a break. He blushes at your words, his curved throbbing cock jumping against his belly.

“You have such a cute little mouth” he whispers with a soft smile, the pink on his cheeks deepening when you shove his thighs apart again, dipping your head to take them in your mouth, “oh fuck just like that, use that tongue, suck them nice and hard, don’t care if it hurts, suck them harder bunny”

He’s a feral little (beefy) fuck, holding your head in place while rutting himself against your face. The shallow breaths you take in between with your mouth full make his tip weep and he can’t help but reach down to stroke himself, using his thumb to spread his arousal around. When he finally can’t take it, he grabs and flips you onto your back, splitting your legs open and humping himself between your folds.

“Fuck you’re so tight bunny” he shudders above you as he pushes your thighs to your chest, folding you in half, making you hold your knees apart. He pumps his cock a few times while staring at your slick hole dripping and fluttering for him.

“Look at your little pussy” his voice is between a whine and a whisper, pressing just the head of his cock into you making you moan, his tip alone stretching you. He doesn’t even fucking move, pulling it back out and pushing just the head in, his lil caught between his teeth watching his perfect pink tip disappear in and out. “How are you gonna take all of me bunny,you’re already stretched open”

He’s not even taunting you. He’s blushing so much because he can feel the way you quiver around him already and he isn’t even inside properly. “Can feel you sucking me in baby, you want more? That’s just the tip bunny, so sensitive for you, m’already making a mess”

“More Bucky, fuck me, please” you plead with him, pulling your knees back further, tightening around him even more.

“Oh God” he plunges himself into you without warning, drawing his hips back and slamming them back in making your body bounce with each thrust. You sob in pleasure, broken moans leaving your lips as he knocks the wind out of you with the powerful snap of his hips.

He looks feral, eyes fixated on where his cock disappears in and out with each thrust, your sweet mixed cream squirting out of you each time he shoves himself back in.

“Look at the mess we’re making together baby. So. Fucking. Pretty. You’re so pretty when you’re all stretched open bunny, pussy was made for my cock, you take big dick so well, you’re such a good girl, my good girl made for fat cock”

You nearly wail as he speeds up, panting and grunting, your belly bulging each time. He’s sitting back on his heels so he can watch exactly how much your pussy opens up for him, that needy button between your legs equally desperate for attention.

“Why’s are you so tight around my dick baby, can’t even last when I fuck you” he squeezes his eyes shut for a moment to try and collect himself but it’s pointless. His cock starts to swell, drops of cum already starting to spurt out. He’s trying so hard to hold back but his body can’t stop moving, chasing the way your pussy chokes his length.

“M’mph-gonna cum-“ he chokes out, his movements growing sloppy and erratic, the bed banging the wall. “Gonna pump you full of cum baby, gonna make you wet the bed with how much cum drips of you”

“Cum in me Bucky” your nails dig in his shoulders, gasping when he sits back and spits onto your clit before rubbing it in circles.

“Such a cute little button making you scream so loud, you sound so beautiful like this” he gives it a pinch and you shatter around him, desperate squeals making him moan louder.

“Gonna milk my cock dry, gonna give you a thick load baby, there’s so much cum in my balls, in my dick, I can’t hold it, it’s so swollen, S-o sensitive- FUCKKK” he lets out a broken sob as he starts to throb ropes and ropes of his warm spend in you, the sheets soaking what your pussy can’t hold.

“Got the sheets all wet bunny, can feel it on my thighs-

Anyway. As always I’m sorry for this.

#bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #beefy bucky barnes smut #beefy bucky barnes fluff #beefy bucky smut #beefy Bucky #beefy bucky x you #beefy bucky x reader #needy bucky x you #bucky barnes x needy reader #beefy bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky smut #beefy bucky fluff #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fan fic #beefy Bucky fanfic #bucky barnes fan fiction #beefy Bucky fanfiction #bucky barnes size kink #size kink Bucky barnes #size kink Bucky smut

[headspace-hotel]

I will write this thought about Veganism and Classism in the USA in another post so as to not derail the other thread:

There are comments in the notes that say meat is only cheaper than plant based foods because of subsidies artificially lowering the price of meat in the United States. This is...part of the story but not all of it.

For my animal agriculture lab we went to a butcher shop and watched the butcher cut up a pig into various cuts of meat. I have had to study quite a bit about the meat industry in that class. This has been the first time I fully realized how strongly the meat on a single animal is divided up by socioeconomic class.

Like yes, meat cumulatively takes more natural resources to create and thus should be more expensive, but once that animal is cut apart, it is divided up between rich and poor based on how good to eat the parts are. I was really shocked at watching this process and seeing just how clean and crisp an indicator of class this is.

Specifically, the types of meat I'm most familiar with are traditionally "waste" parts left over once the desirable parts are gone. For example, beef brisket is the dangly, floppy bit on the front of a cow's neck. Pork spareribs are the part of the ribcage that's barely got anything on it.

And that stuff is a tier above the "meat" that is most of what poor people eat: sausage, hot dogs, bologna, other heavily processed meat products that are essentially made up of all the scraps from the carcass that can't go into the "cuts" of meat. Where my mom comes from in North Carolina, you can buy "livermush" which is a processed meat product made up of a mixture of liver and a bunch of random body parts ground up and congealed together. There's also "head cheese" (made of parts of the pig's head) and pickled pigs' feet and chitlin's (that's made of intestines iirc) and cracklin's (basically crispy fried pig skin) and probably a bunch of stuff i'm forgetting. A lot of traditional Southern cooking uses basically scraps of animal ingredients to stretch across multiple meals, like putting pork fat in beans or saving bacon grease for gravy or the like.

So another dysfunctional thing about our food system, is that instead of people of each socioeconomic class eating a certain number of animals, every individual animal is basically divided up along class lines, with the poorest people eating the scraps no one else will eat (oftentimes heavily processed in a way that makes it incredibly unhealthy).

Even the 70% lean ground beef is made by injecting extra leftover fat back into the ground-up meat because the extra fat is undesirable on the "better" cuts. (Gross!)

I've made, or eaten, many a recipe where the only thing that makes it non-vegan is the chicken broth. Chicken broth, just leftover chicken bones and cartilage rendered and boiled down in water? How much is that "driving demand" for meat, when it's basically a byproduct?

That class really made me twist my brain around about the idea of abstaining from animal products as a way to deprive the industry of profits. Nobody eats "X number of cows, pigs, chickens in a lifetime" because depending on the socioeconomic class, they're eating different parts of the animal, splitting it with someone richer or poorer than they are. If a bunch of people who only ate processed meats anyway abstained, that wouldn't equal "saving" X number of animals, it would just mean the scraps and byproducts from a bunch of people's steaks or pork chops would have something different happen to them.

The other major relevant conclusion I got from that class, was that animal agriculture is so dominant because of monoculture. People think it's animal agriculture vs. plant agriculture (or plants used for human consumption vs. using them to feed livestock), but from capitalism's point of view, feeding animals corn is just another way to use corn to generate profits.

People think we could feed the world by using the grain fed to animals to feed humans, but...the grain fed to animals, is not actually a viable diet for the human population, because it's literally just corn and soybean. Like animal agriculture is used to give some semblance of variety to the consumer's diet in a system that is almost totally dominated by like 3 monocrops.

Do y'all have any idea how much of the American diet is just corn?!?! Corn starch, corn syrup, corn this, corn that, processed into the appearance of variety. And chickens and pigs are just another way to process corn. That's basically why we have them, because they can eat our corn. It's a total disaster.

And it's even worse because almost all the USA's plant foods that aren't the giant industrial monocrops maintained by pesticides and machines, are harvested and cared for by undocumented migrant workers that get abused and mistreated and can't say anything because their boss will tattle on them to ICE.

#agriculture #it's so messed up #plants #livestock

[fairy-angel222]

𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋𝐒 𐙚˙⋆.˚ ᡣ𐭩

—“i just wanna be one of your girls tonight,”

pairing: geto suguru x fem! reader

synopsis: you’ve had a crush on your brother’s best friend for a long time, and just wanted to have his attention at least once

content: smut, weed consumption, blowing smoke into your mouth, choking, fingering, mirror sex, praise

You would do anything for the attention of Geto Suguru. There was just something about him that you needed. Yes he was your brother’s best friend. And yes he was three years older than you. But that really meant nothing.

Your teeth bit down painfully on your bottom lip as you watched Geto flirt with an older girl. His signature smirk on his face as he leaned onto her locker, hands in his pocket with his lips moving in the sweetest words.

You wish it could’ve been you. The way she got shy, her face flushed red as she tucked a strand of red hair behind her ear with a perfectly manicured nail.

All you could do was watch with longing as his arm wrapped around her waist, her head on his side before they began walking the halls together. His smirk never faltered as he nodded along to her words.

Lucky. You thought to yourself, a tight lipped smile painted on your face.

You finished packing away your books, slamming the metal blue door shut before making your way to class. You’d always be his best friend’s little sister.

“Fuck- sorry..” you trailed off as you looked up to find his eyes staring back down at you. A smile on his face and his eyebrow raised as broad hands held onto your waist to steady your frame. “Language sweetheart. And careful now, wouldn’t want Gojo to kill me, would we?” he teased.

Your mouth opening and closing with no words escaping. “U-uh y-eah, well n-no, i mean no.” So fucking embarrassing.

Geto only chuckled, shaking his head in amusement then walking off with a grin. “Bye little Gojo.”

There he goes with that stupid nickname again.

…

The day goes by with nothing on your mind. Well, except Geto of course. He would be coming over to your house later to hang out with your brother. And as always, they would have girls over.. and you weren’t invited as Gojo put it.

Leaving your classroom, you passed by your locker to collect your things. Swinging your bag over your shoulder and making your way to the school’s doors. “Hey y/n,” a deep voice called. Turning around to see Geto jogging up to you with a girl’s arm hooked around his. A brunette this time.. great.

“Yeah?”

“Gojo asked for me to take you home, so you’re stuck with me.�� He stated, winking jokingly before draping his arm over your shoulder as he walked you and his girl of the day to his vehicle.

If only he knew what that mere gesture did to you.

You took a seat in the back of his vehicle. Awkwardly watching as his hand squeezed the thigh of the girl in the passenger’s seat, massaging her skin until she was looking at the side of his face with nothing but want.

You blinked your attention away from them, resting your head back and looking out the car window instead. The ride to your house was silent apart from the girl’s constant giggling. And you kept your focus on anything but them, missing the way Geto glanced back through the rear view mirror. His head tilted and a small smile on his face.

She’s jealous, cute.

…

“We’re here,” Geto announced.

Walking into the house and greeting your brother in a hug before flopping down on the couch with his girl on his lap.

Gojo had his own blonde sat next to him, her legs on his lap as she played with his hair. “Hello little sister, not even gonna greet your favorite big brother hello?”

You gave a short wave before going up to your room, locking the door shut before flopping onto your bed. You wanted him.. so bad.

Maybe if you were just two years older.. granted, 18 and 21 wasn’t even that bad.. but maybe he would watch you then.

You sighed, closing your eyes as you heard loud music fill the house, the group most likely beginning their drinking and make out session by now.

Grabbing your phone, you plugged in your earphones. One of The Girls by the weeknd blasting through your ears as you let your mind wander. Geto, his hands, on your body.

You let out a soft whimper as you allowed your hand to roam to your chest, squeezing your tits and rolling your nipples between your soft fingertips.

“Mmm..” you moaned, imagining his hand instead of yours as you trailed it lower, slowly pulling down your pants and letting it slip inside the white lace of your panties. “Fuck.. Suguru,” your fingers rubbed along the line of your slit, teasing your clit before you finally allowed them to dip into your wetness.

“A-ah, so good,” you threw your head back into your pillow, thrusting your fingers in and out of your dripping heat with desperation. Trying your hardest to curl them to reach that good spot. Almost there.

“Fuck.” you yelled out in frustration, they were not enough. You needed his. His long, veiny fingers.. you needed them in you, around your neck, squeezing at your flesh. Anything.

Sighing loudly, you stood up. Walking over to the door of you and your brother’s shared master bathroom. You would usually knock. But he and his friends were clearly getting drunk— and high, downstairs. So there was no need.

Pushing the door open, your eyes widened at the sight of Geto leaned over your counter. A blunt between his lips as red eyes stared at you through the mirror, his face drenched with water.

“A-am sorry, I thought it was e-empty.” you rushed out, your thighs clenching as you watched his muscles flex as he gripped the counter’s edge even harder.

“Wait,” he called out, stopping you mid track from closing your side of the door. “Come here.”

You gulped hard, shakily walking over to him. “Y-yeah?” Geto smirked, “you know, it’s cute how flustered you get around me.”

You could feel your cheeks heat up, your brain scrambling to find something to say. Geto only chuckled, “wanna try?” holding the blunt out in your direction. “I.. I don't think Gojo would like that.”

He shrugged, “I won’t tell.” Before stalking over to you and backing you up against the counter. You yelped as his arms hooked under your thighs, swiftly lifting you onto the counter top before situating himself between your legs.

Geto’s fingers hooked onto your chin, your eyes meeting his as he lifted your head towards him. “Open.” You did as told, parting your lips and watching as he took a hit, blowing the smoke into your open mouth before capturing your lips in a passionate kiss.

Your stomach burned with heat, your pussy drenched as his lips found your neck. You let out a soft moan, your hands wrapping around his neck while your fingers tugged at the back of his hair. “What about your girlfriend downstairs?” you spoke between moans.

“Not my girlfriend.” he reassured “And tonight’s all about you.”

You were in heaven, it was even better than you imagined.

Setting the rolled paper down, Geto helped you remove your shirt, pinching your nipples and twisting them softly just to hear you moan. “You sound so pretty.”

Geto hurriedly peeled off his shirt, his abs on display making you bite your tongue. “Touch them.”

“W-what?”

“Go ahead, touch them.” Grabbing your hands and placing them on the hard muscles.

You could only whimper when Geto pulled your pants off of you, his eyes going dark at the sight of the white lace covering your pussy.

He looked down at you with a look of confirmation, you looking up at him through long lashes as you nodded. “Please.”

That was all he needed, ripping the flimsy material off of you and admiring your glistening cunt. His fingers found your wetness, rubbing up and down before sinking them into you. A loud moan escaping your lips making his eyes widen.

“Shhh, don’t wanna get caught do you.”

Geto’s free hand made its way up to your mouth, muffling your mewls as he curled his fingers up into you. Perfect. They were hitting inside you so good, and you allowed yourself to moan his name over and over into his palm. His eyes never leaving yours as he fingered you dumb.

Your eyes rolled back and your mouth hung open, drool coating his hand as you rocked back and forth on the marble top. It was happening, it was actually happening.

“Is this what you wanted baby? This what you been waiting for?”

You nodded, your eyes teary as the pads of his fingers pressed into your g spot with every thrust. Your legs hooked tightly around his waist, your toes curling as you began to tremble.

“Cum for me,” he whispered in your ear, hot tongue making you moan out as he nibbled on your lobe. You could only let out a soft cry as you clenched down on his fingers, rocking your hips onto his hand and fucking yourself through your high.

Geto watched in pure lust as you came, your glassy eyes looking up at him before shutting in pleasure, your head falling back as you met your release. You looked like a fucking angel in his eyes. And he wanted nothing more than to be the demon to corrupt you.

“Good girl.” he smirked.

You smiled, your eyes trailing to the blunt once more, making Geto’s smirk grow impossibly wider. Picking it up and bringing it to your plump lips. “Inhale... there we go. Now let it sit.. and exhale.” he coaxed, “You like that?”

Your head felt so dizzy, intoxicated even. And you nodded, watching as Geto took his own hit before blowing it out onto your face.

His fingers were dripping with your slick, and he brought them up to his mouth with a smug smile. Using his tongue to lick up your sweetness before connecting his lips to yours again. The kiss was hard, sloppy, and you moaned loudly into him.

Pulling away, Geto flipped you over. Using his knee to spread your legs apart and push your chest down onto the cold marble. You let out a needy whine, meeting his eyes in the mirror as his hand wrapped around your neck. The other lining his cock up with your hole. He let out a choked groan as he eased into you. A loud moan being drawn past your lips.

“S-so tight, fuck.” Geto’s lips parted in a loud groan, using his now free hand to pin both your smaller hands behind your back. “Beg me.. beg me to ruin you.”

You let out a broken cry. “P-please Geto.. please fuck me, ruin me, anything. ‘M all yours.”

You let out a string of high pitched noises when he began slamming his hips into yours. His tip piercing deep into you with every thrust.

“F-fuck, y-you’re.. s-so,” you let out a broken mewl, “so d-deep.” Geto tightened his hold on your neck, lifting your head slightly to force your eyes to stay on his. A deep growl sounding in his throat when you closed them.

“Look at me when i fuck you.” he demanded, your eyes shooting open and meeting his immediately.

Your mouth hung open in a small o. Soundless cries filling the room as you watched your body jerk forward with each movement of his hips.

You were so tight around him. Even tighter than he had imagined. And he couldn’t help the moans leaving his own mouth as he destroyed your pussy.

“Does that feel good? Does my cock feel good inside you baby?”

You nodded with a whimper, your breathing heavy as you were forced to watch yourself be fucked dumb.

“Words sweetheart.”

“Y-yes, it feels s-so good Suguru.”

“That’s my girl.”

You could feel your legs going weak, your knees trembling as you were fucked into the counter. “Nngh- Sugu,” you moaned, a smirk on his face as he thought back to mere minutes ago when you were moaning his name from your bed. Now you didn’t have to imagine, he was right there.

“‘M so close,” you mewled.

“Yeah? Gonna make a mess for me? Show me how much you wanted this?”

His back hunched as he flattened his chest against you, the position allowing him to hit deeper than you thought was possible.

“F-fuck,” you cried out, your eyes widening with tears as you felt his dick fucking you so deep, so good. The pleasure was too intense. The coil in your stomach painfully ready to snap.

“Look at how good you look when you fall apart on my cock. Come on baby— cum for me again.” He encouraged as he rolled his hips up into you, forgetting about being quiet as he relished in your loud moans and cries. You sounded so pretty for him. And for him only.

A loud scream fell past your lips when his dick hammered against your g spot. Your legs shaking uncontrollably as you began to gush around him. Eyes rolling back as you basked in the pleasure from your high.. the highest you’d ever been.

“That’s a good fucking girl,” he dragged out, breathing getting heavy and his thrusts sloppy as he gave your pussy its final thrusts.

“Wish i could fill you up more than anything. Fuck, wanna make you mine. Wanted to for so long.” he moaned, voice cracking slightly as his abs tensed.

Geto groaned, pulling out of you before spilling his cum onto your ass, his head thrown back as he let rope after rope fall onto your plush flesh.

Strong hands held you up before you collapsed, holding you tight against him as he breathed heavily into your back. Your chest heaving in an attempt to steady your own breathing.

Your heart clenched as your eyes trailed over the scene in the mirror. You, Suguru.. together, sweat coating both of your skins.

Geto’s voice was soft as he mumbled, “Want you so bad.. need you to be mine. I can’t wait anymore.”

Your heart rate sped up as you felt your tears at the brink of falling. This wasn’t a dream. “I— I..” you were at a loss of words.. he wanted you too.

“It’s okay, I know. You don’t quite make it discreet.” he joked, pulling you into a tight hug and placing a kiss onto your head.

Geto cursed, letting out a long sigh and picking up the still lit blunt. Taking a puff before releasing it above your head. “What the fuck am i supposed to say if Gojo finds out.”

Oh yeah.. your brother. He would most definitely not approve.

Just then, a knock sounded on the door. A very drunk Gojo slurring, “Yo Suguru? You in there? I need to piss.”

Geto only shook his head with a silent laugh. While you, you couldn’t be bothered. You had him. You actually had him. Suguru was yours. And you weren’t just one of his girls. You were his girl.

#jjk smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #jjk x reader smut #geto x reader smut #geto suguru x reader smut #geto suguru smut #geto suguru x reader #geto smut #geto x reader #geto suguru #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader smut #gojo smut

[fooled-around-and-fell]

she's mean, and he loves her for it.

summary: your peers wonder how the ever-so-annoying gojo satoru can stand being in a relationship with you pairing: sunshine!gojo satoru x grumpy!female reader genre: angst, fluff warnings: none

Masterlist

"Did you guys know Gojo-sensei is dating-" Nobara looks around left and right before whispering your name in fear that you might be around.

"Ehhh?" Yuuji's eyebrows knit together. "No way. She's so scary and he's so...happy."

Nobara agrees, "She never smiles -- kinda looks like she has a permanent frown, too. She scares me."

"You think maybe she intimidated him to date her?"

Megumi watches as his two friends bicker about whether you and Satoru look good together, not realizing that you've heard everything they said. Megumi notices you've arrived to teach them and clears his throat, catching the attention of his two friends. He glances at you to check how you're doing after hearing what they said, but as expected, you remain professional and stoic. But Megumi knows better, he grew up under your and Satoru's wings after all.

"Shit." Nobara and Yuuji mutter under their breaths.

-----

It's fairly common for people to question your relationship with Satoru. He's this... happy-go-lucky guy who annoys everyone except those on the same wavelength as him, while you keep to yourself, prioritizing your alone time, and taking things seriously.

Sometimes, too serious.

You never let it get to you, though, because you don't really care what people say. You and Satoru are happy, that's all that matters. Until recently, when those jerk Kyoto students came over to train, they started talking about you and Satoru.

"She's so serious all the time, I don't understand how Gojo puts up with her."

"I think he's scared to breakup with her."

"I bet she's high maintenance."

"Honestly, why is he with her when he can be with someone who's... not so difficult?"

You grit your teeth at that last comment. You can't tell who said what, but it doesn't matter. Their words got to your head and now you're angry. Angry because you're scared they might be right.

Does Satoru think you're difficult? You're not entirely sure how to show them that yes, you deserve Satoru despite being the dark, grumpy person you are.

Sighing, you decide to go home instead of joining the dinner. Satoru's not in there anyway, he just got back from a mission and is waiting for you at home.

Once you close the door to your apartment, you immediately feel Satoru's arm envelope around you from behind. He smells like fresh mint -- just got out of the shower.

"Hi darling," he kisses your cheek.

"Hi, Toru." You take your shoes off and give him a quick peck before making your way to the bedroom to put your stuff down.

Satoru watches you slowly, "hm, aren't you supposed to have that dinner with the Kyoto students today?"

Your jaw clenches, taking a second before shrugging. "Decided to skip it. I'm tired."

He just hums, "In that case, you wanna watch Bridgerton with me after your shower?"

"Again?" You groan, "Isn't it like the third time you've watched it?"

"Yes, and?"

"I'll skip, thanks."

He blows a raspberry and leaves you to shower while he lays down on the couch to watch Anthony Bridgerton fall in love with his Kate Sheffield.

While you were in the shower, the words kept coming back to you. Somehow more exaggerated. You're difficult. He doesn't like you. He's just tolerating you. Why would he be with someone who doesn't even smile? Look at him, Gojo is the epitome of sunshine. You're nothing like him. Why would he like you?

Groaning, you let the hot water wash away your thoughts -- though they don't really go away. Maybe you should just try to be nicer to Satoru, be more cheerful.

After your shower, you see him lying down on the couch while watching his show, and you sit on the other end, silently dreading having to watch the same show again. But you're doing this for Satoru, so you will.

With a satisfied grin, Satoru saunters over and lies down on top of you, his head resting on your chest. You smile softly, enjoying the tight grip he has on you and his soft hair between your fingers.

"How was the mission?" You ask, "Did you have to go to Shoko?"

Satoru shakes his head, "Sweetheart, it's me we're talking about here."

"You can still get hurt, Toru." You pat his hair gently, "I've seen you bleed."

"I'm always careful. Don't worry." He kisses your hand.

You sigh softly. You know Satoru is always careful, it's just that he always goes on missions alone, and more often nowadays that it makes you worry. Yes, he's the strongest, but you never want to take that for granted.

"Toru," You call him again, a little hesitant, "You know I love you, right?"

He lifts his head from your chest, staring at you with those big blue eyes. "Of course. And I love you. So much."

He kisses you deeply, now switching positions so you're lying down on top of him. "So do you want to talk about it?"

"No.." You mumble. Of course, Satoru knows. He isn't stupid. He can sense when something's wrong with you, just like how you can feel the scar on his hip that wasn't there before. He did go to Shoko.

But none of you say anything. You just hold each other tighter that night. It's more than enough.

-----

Satoru is on another mission. It's supposed to be easy, at least that's what he said 3 days ago. You haven't heard from him at all in 3 days and you're beginning to worry. Your frown is deeper than usual, you sigh more often, and your fuse is shorter.

Everyone's more scared of you.

You let the kids take a break while you try to collect your thoughts. You can't be seen so distracted, not when Satoru left you in charge of them.

"You doing okay?" You hear Megumi's voice approach you.

Blinking away the tears that almost fell, you turn around to face him. "I'm fine, Megs."

"I told you not to call me that..." He sulks as he stands next to you, leaning against the wall. He can see you're distraught, and growing up with you, there's only been a handful of times he's seen you like this.

"You know he's going to be fine, right?"

You sigh. "I'm just worried."

You remember once when Satoru didn't come back for a week. He couldn't be reached, no one could track him down, and you were just at home, taking care of Megumi. The boy's more like you than Satoru, he's not exactly sensitive or cheery. But he knows when you're feeling sad, so he'd stay up with you, praying for Satoru's safety.

"Guys!" Yuuji runs towards you and Megumi.

"What is it, Yuuji?"

"It's Gojo-sensei-" He pants, "He's back!"

You run as fast as you can with Yuuji and Megumi, and you can finally see your white-haired, blue-eyed boyfriend limping his way back to the school grounds.

He raises his hand and waves to you with a big smile despite struggling to walk. "Tsk-" You frown even more, feeling the tears pooling again as you walk towards him and catch him in an embrace.

"Umph-" He groans. "Hi, baby."

You let go of him and check his injuries -- he's healed most of it himself, thank goodness, but the bruises are still there. "We need to go to Shoko-"

"Mm, that can wait." He pulls you to sit down on the soft grass, hugging you once again. "It's okay, I'm here now."

You choke on your own sobs and hug him tighter, sitting between his legs and burying your head in his chest. "You idiot."

"'M sorry for makin' you worry," he smiles gently, leaving kisses all over your face.

As you cup his face in your hands, you're suddenly very aware of the 3 pairs of eyes staring at you both. Noticing it too, Satoru covers your red, embarrassed face. "Okay, nothing to see here. Go.. do something. Scram. Skedaddle."

Once the kids are gone, he chuckles and thinks you're being really cute. "They're gone, sweets."

You glare at his teasing smile.

Satoru wipes away your tears, kissing your frown away. "What took you so long?" You ask after kissing him deeply, not letting him go.

A smirk lingers on Satoru's lips. "I took a detour to Kyoto after the mission to teach some kids a lesson."

#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo angst #gojo fluff #gojo satoru x you #gojo x you #satoru x you #satoru x reader #satoru angst #gojo satoru angst #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru jjk #gojo x female reader #gojo satoru x female reader

[suncoved]

RAFE, SCARY? PFFT ! — RAFE CAMERON

pairing; boyfriend!rafe cameron x fem!reader

summary: you had the most loving, sweet, precious boyfriend in the world. so why were your new found friends so scared of him?

prompt: “you let anything happen to her and i’ll fucking kill you, alright?”

you could barely contain your happiness as you applied your 5th layer of glittery lipgloss on your lips, holding the decorated pink tube in your manicured fingers. you batted your eyelids at the clock hung on rafe's wall.

kiara told you to be there at 8:00 and it was currently 7:30.

but you didn't want to be late, so leaving now was a good plan for you.

you had never met kiara's friends before. you had been best friends with her your whole life, but after she and sarah split, they told you you had to pick a side. and you would never tell sarah that the main reason you picked her was because of her psychotic older brother who was always roaming aimlessly around tannyhill.

sarah was your best friend, and you wouldn't trade her for the world.

but you couldn't help but ponder over what would have happened if you picked kiara, what life you would have had.

you missed her, truly. so when faced with the oppurtity to reconnect with her through your mothers exchanging numbers on one random night at the wreck, you took it.

and before you knew it she was inviting you to come down to the boneyard with some of her friends from the cut, to which you accepted gratefully.

you were snapped out of your thoughts when you heard the bathroom door click open, the steam rolling out from underneath it like a tidal wave. you turned your head softly at the noise, placing the lipgloss applicator quickly back in the tube.

beads of water trickled down his v line, escaping into the beige towel wrapped around his waist into a place you didn't even have the time to imagine. he lifted his hand up to his head, running a hand through his now brown hair that had darkened from getting wet under the stream of water.

"quick rafe we have to go!" you whined, trying to avoid eye contact with the 6'2 tall build distraction in front of you. you shuffled around the room, going into his closet and picking out clothes for him to quickly put on since he insisted — well — demanded, on driving you down to the boneyard.

you shoved the clothes into his hands, his hand making contact with yours momentarily, creating a spark between the two of you. your cheeks flushed as you quickly looked away, turning around and taking a seat at the foot of the bed.

you watched as he made no effort to move, a smirk you know all too well gracing his face. "rafe, i mean it. get changed" you groaned as you pushed your palms into the soft covers of his king sized bed.

"if you wanted to see me naked baby, you could just say that."

your cheeks quickly turned into the darkest shade of pink you could imagine, your hands quickly reached up to your face, covering your eyes as you huffed softly.

he scoffed at your movements, reaching over to spread your fingers apart so you could see through them. "im just joking ma, you've seen it all before." he winked, moving back to see the full sight of him while lifting his bicep up and flexing it in your face.

you jokingly rolled your eyes, falling onto the bed so you were now staring at the ceiling. your fingers found their way to each other, nervously intertwining as you thought.

you heard rafe shuffling around near his closet, his fly ziping up and the clink of his belt being melody to your ears. "what if they don't like me?"

your voice was quiet, barely above a whisper. if rafe wasn't listening he definitely would have missed it. but he always listens.. to you.

"impossible" he stated simply, using a tone that left no room for discussion. he didn't use that tone often, but when he did, you stayed quiet.

you chewed on your bottom lip, knitting your brows together.

you were so lucky to have rafe in your life. he was kind, caring and patient and always knew how to calm your anxiety.

honestly, you were surprised he let you go down to the beach with the pogues in the first place. you tried your best to keep out of that whole kook-pouge turf war as best as possible. to you, it was immature, unnecessary and just pointless. but it had been around on the island since before you could remember.

though, it was safe to say that you and rafe didn't see eye to eye on that topic. he didn't like the pogues, not one bit. and he made that very, very clear.

he knew how much you loved kiara, and how your face lit up when your mother's voice echoed through rafe's car speakers when she called you after seeing kiara's mother.

it took him longer to warm up to the idea that you would be seeing her whole friend group, which consists of just pogues, and most importantly, jj maybank.

there was nothing more rafe hated than jj maybank.

yet, he knew how happy this would make you. and he was willing to do this, for you. only for you.

"ready bubs" rafe announces, smoothing his polo down haphazardly and stuffing his feet into his shoes. he hears you pulling yourself up and off his bed, your socked feet padding over to him and resting your head on his chest.

he smiles and he brings his arms around your body. sighing contently as he places a kiss on your head before resting his chin on you. "they are gonna love you, like everyone loves you. don't think for a second that they won't"

you giggle against him, somehow trying to push yourself further into him, which was impossible.

"no im being serious baby, i have some serious competition." rafe huffed, pulling himself back from you and looking at your face peering up at him.

"shut up" you joke, your cheeks burning as you blushed at his words. he leaned down until his lips met yours, bringing his fingers to your chin and lifting your head up.

you two melted into each other, your sweet strawberry lipgloss coating his lips quickly. he didn't care though, he was kissing you. so nothing else mattered.

you were losing yourself in his touch, not noticing he was slowly pushing you back until your calfs hit the back of his dark oak bed frame and your body eventually fell against the soft fabric of his covers.

he slipped his hand up your lacy white cami, dragging his fingers up and down the soft skin of your stomach. he detached his lips from yours as his cold slender fingers slipped under the wire of your bra, kissing his way down your neck and chest.

you bit your now chapped lips as you looked down the the brunette boy making goosebumps appear over your skin. you threw your head back against his pillow closing your eyes and opening them again as your head lulled to the side.

your eyes fixated to the clock resting on his wall, reading 7:54. your mind ticked for a second before realising where you needed to be in exactly six minutes, gasping rather dramaticlly.

rafe's head snaps up to look at you, his eyes hooded with worry and hunger at the same time. it was only when he followed your eyes to his sleek white clock that he realised what had happened.

he rolled his eyes and he pulled your shirt back over your stomach, leaving one last searing kiss before smoothing the material down.

"rafe we have to go, now. now!" you whisper yelled almost slipping and you tried to put on your shoes while you hobbled out of his bedroom.

"baby, baby." he spoke, hopping up and walking quickly after you. he reached out to your waist holding you stable so you didn't slip over and hurt yourself.

"ok, ok. ill be careful. lets just go!" you gasped, trying to wiggle out of his firm grip. he chuckled as he let go, watching as you speed down the stairs of tannyhill and down to his white jeep parked out the front.

it was a fairly uneventful ride down to the boneyard, rafe's hand resting on your bouncing leg the whole time, slightly soothing the nervous feeling arising in your chest.

"c'mon baby, we're here" he voiced, opening his car door before quickly jumping out and circling the car before he opened yours for you. your eyes drifted down to the beach as rafe helped you out of his rather tall car.

a blonde boy with a backward cap resting on his head sat on a log with two other boys around your age, beers resting in their hands as they talked. your eyes followed along the beach where you saw kiara picking up trash along the shore, smiling brightly to yourself.

rafe intertwined his hand with yours, tightly squeezing it as he narrowed his eyes at the people on the beach. "you don't have to drink yeah? just tell them no, ok?" rafe spoke.

you nodded softly, peering up at him through your lashes to see his face stern and menacing.

you began walking first, dragging rafe softly behind you as your shoes hit the soft sand below you. you kept your eyes glued to your feet the whole way until you heard voices now crystal clear echoing through your ears.

"hey, you made it!" kiara exclaimed, bringing her arms around you as you let go of rafes hand. "hi kie" you murmured into her shoulder, embracing her into a soft hug.

"hey, rafe. what're you doing down these parts?" the blonde boy asked, standing up from his spot on the large log he was sitting down on before. you saw rafe tick his jaw to the side as you pulled away from kiara, his tongue sliding through the front of his teeth.

"just dropping her off maybank, not here to stay" rafe remarked, turning his attention to you as he leaned down and placed a kiss on your cheek, ghosting his hands over your sides as he pulled back from you.

"call me when you need me to pick you up yeah?" rafe said, keeping his eyes on you as you nodded hastily. he smiled sweetly at you, watching as kiara grabbed your hand a pulled you down to the shore, showing you the tiny baby turtles rushing into the water in front of you.

"hey jj" rafe said, turning his head to the boy standing a few feet from him, not daring to come any closer. rafe watched as he nodded cautiously, pursing his lips together as to almost prepare himself for what rafe was about to say.

rafe took a few steps before he reached jj, grabbing the fabric of his shirt and hoisting him up until they were face to face.

“you let anything happen to her and i’ll fucking kill you, alright?"

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #outer banks #obx #rafe x reader #rafe outer banks

[anxiousbabybird]

Love and Deepspace men x fem!reader slightly unhinged HCs

I started Love and Deepspace yesterday so please have my slightly unhinged HCs for the men so far. And minors don’t you dare interact

Part 2

Rafayel

He’s a biter. Leaves you covered in marks from your neck all the way down your thighs.

Plans a date where he’s laid out a huge canvas on the floor of his studio, puts your fave color paint on your hands and his favorite color on his hands, plus several globs of the two colors across the canvas, and then proceeds to have the wildest three rounds of sex on that canvas as it gets progressively more covered in paint. Sells the painting for 6 figures a few weeks later and uses it as an excuse that you need to make more of them.

Tells you his best masterpiece is painting your body with his cum—got really into it once and dipped the paint brush into your cunt to collect his cum and then painted it across your breasts

Has a secret sketch book that’s nothing but pictures of you. Lots of them are of you sleeping when he can study your features but there’s still quite a few he drew from memory.

Made you lay down naked with your legs spread and be still so he could draw the most detailed image of your pussy you could possibly imagine. It’s his personal fave that no one besides him will ever see.

Sees shibari as a beautiful art form and likes to practice with you—has a whole album in his phone just of pics of you tied up all pretty for him

Rarely gets soft in a serious way, he much prefers the teasing back and forth you two usually have.

Xavier

He’s definitely broken into your room Edward Cullen style and watched you sleep

His favorite dates are taking you into the forest at night to watch the stars and moon together. Bonus points if you come across a wanderer and get to fight together.

Clingy after you become his, always wants to be touching you and doesn’t let you out of his sight (and yes that means sometimes he’s following you but it’s just because you’re brave and reckless and he worries)

When he eats you out, he holds both your hands in his for you to hold on to and does it with no hands—makes you cum more times on his tongue than you could fathom (and yes, he’s eating you for his pleasure)

Downloaded a tracker into your watch so he can know where you are at all times

Gets horny when he watches you fight and has def pulled you aside during a mission for a quickie in which you end up having your cunt stuffed with cum for the remainder of the mission

Such a cuddler but like a cat where he only wants to cuddle if he wants to—falls asleep nearly instantly in your arms like the cute sleepyhead he is

Zayne

Finds it so cute the first time he comes to your apartment and sees all the little snow creatures he’d made you sitting in a windowsill together. Makes you so many more after that. Sends you a bouquet of flowers made from his ice too (#Elsa)

Has food delivered to you at lunch on days he knows you’re super busy so you don’t forget to eat since you often forget to take care of yourself (he doesn’t mind too much since he likes that you let him take care of you)

Prefers kisses over hugs, except when he’s sad because of a patient (then he likes the warm comfort of your hugs)

Moves his glasses to the top of his head and rubs the bridge of his nose when he gets really stressed

Brings you a mild painkiller after blowing your back out, a smug but tiny smile on his lips, and tells you, “I was a bit rough so humor me and take this medicine. I don’t want you in excess pain because of me.”

Loves when you want to lay on his chest when he’s reading through cases and medical journals at night. He’ll read them out loud until you fall asleep and then finish them quietly as you snore softly into his chest

Calls you before a difficult surgery because your voice instantly calms him down

Into bondage—specifically he likes to tie you up so you can’t escape when he starts to overstimulate you. He really can’t help it, you just make such pretty noises for him when he gets you to that point that he has to keep going

Tags: @adaurielle @luffysprincess @seraphofthesimps

#love and deepspace #love and Deepspace HCs #zayne love and deepspace #Zayne HCs #zayne x reader #rafayel #rafayel love and deepspace #rafayel HCs #rafayel x reader #Xavier x reader #xavier love and deepspace

[bucks-babe]

Be Mean To Me

Pairing: Bucky x f!reader

Summary: After a long day at work, you just want to lose all control and have your boyfriend fuck you into oblivion 

Warnings: Established relationship, slight angst, fluff, smut, mean!dom!bucky, reader asks for it, they are so in love, rough sex, dom/sub dynamics, oral (male receiving), ball sucking, slapping, spit kink?, degradation, humiliation, name calling (slut, whore, bitch, sugar, good girl), daddy kink, some praise, spanking, pussy slapping (like once), safe word (yellow), vaginal sex, no prep anal, Bucky has a huge dick, choking, aftercare, check-ins, crying during sex, crying after sex, soft!Bucky, no mention of Y/N, no description of reader other than being female

Word Count: 4.9k of mostly smut

A/N: This was very self indulgent. Work has been kicking my ass and I want to be taken care of. Any mistakes are my own. If I missed any warnings please let me know. @bucknastysbabe it's done! I think I should go back to therapy. But hey, smut

You feel your throat tighten as you walk up to the apartment you share with Bucky. It was one of those days that left you beaten down and wanting to curl up under your blankets and cry. You didn’t even want to go into work this morning, having to force yourself to get ready. Too many rude customers, incompetent coworkers giving you more work than you get paid to do, everything leaving you overstimulated and wanting your boyfriend.

It left a craving deep down inside of you, a want that you knew only he could quell. You just wanted to shut your brain off, have Bucky take care of you, ruin you, treat you like a whore, break you down, just to put you back together again.

You swallow the lump in your throat and unlock the front door, finding Bucky on the couch watching some random action movie that he claimed to hate. At the sight of him your body naturally relaxes and the urge to crawl onto his lap is too much to bear.

“Hey, sugar. I’ve been missing you all day. You’ll never fucking believe the video Sam sent me of Tony trying out his new thrusters! He flew rig- What’s wrong?” He perked up at the sound of the door opening, truly missing his girl. Whenever you’re around him his entire day gets better, a lightness filling his chest, but when he sees how run down you are, his heart literally hurts for you. Bucky wants to protect you from everything, from supervillains all the way to spiders in the house.

“Long day, baby. Just wanna be with you.” He opens his arms and you instantly crawl into his lap, eyes burning with tears you refuse to shed. He runs his metal hand up and down your back, pulling you as close to him as possible, while his flesh hand rests on your head, holding you to his neck, letting you breathe him in.

“What can I do for you, sugar? Want to talk about it? I can order from your favorite place. Can run you a bath. Whatever you want, sweet girl.” 

“Please, be mean to me, Bucky.” Bucky feels his heart clench in his chest. He wants to keep your heart safe from whatever it is that is plaguing you, but he knows he can’t. What he can do is follow your request and make you forget.

“How mean do you want me, sugar?” Bucky has done this for you a few times. He always asks how you want him to treat you. It’s in his nature to be sweet to you, fill you with praise, but that's not what you want right now. You want to be degraded and treated like a fucktoy.

“Mean.” You keep your eyes trained on him. This is the only part where you need to keep your head on, make sure that he knows you want this.

“Remember your colors, sugar?” You nob, excitement bubbling up inside of you. “Remember, daddy will only be upset with you if you don’t use them. If you need to say yellow or red, you will.” His tone is final. This is the only way he would ever agree to treating you like a slut.

“Yes, daddy.” And just like that, Bucky’s entire demeanor changes. He goes from your sweet, cuddly boyfriend to a cold and callous body of muscle. 

“Then take your clothes off, slut.” He pushes you off his lap, just hard enough to give the illusion of indifference. As you strip, Bucky keeps his eyes trained on the TV, not paying you any mind. Your core throbs at the fact that you are completely exposed while he is still fully dressed. 

“On your knees.” He’s still not looking at you, but you obey without thought, willing to do whatever he wants. Grabbing the back of your neck, he forces you in between his spread legs, and you whine at the fact that his cock is still soft inside his sweats. Any other day, Bucky would make sure that your knees were never on the hardwood floor without a pillow or something soft underneath, but not today.

On days like these, when you want to feel completely submissive, it takes Bucky a while to get aroused. It’s in his nature to love up on you, make you drunk with pleasure in the sweetest way possible. He feeds off of your energy. When he is sure that you are having fun, his body lets himself fall into his role.

“What? You think at the first signs of some tits I’m gonna get hard? I knew you were a dumb slut but I didn’t realize just how thick you were.” Your pussy was absolutely pulsing with need. With his hand still on the back of your neck, he rubs your face against his crotch, feeling his cock begin to harden at the smell of your arousal.

He pulls you back far enough to slide his pants down, foregoing boxers, and you immediately try to take his half hard length in your mouth. Before you can process it, Bucky’s right hand lands a slap to your cheek - hard enough to make a welt that will take a few hours to disappear. You gasp and your cunt pulses even harder than before at the sting left on your cheek. 

His metal hand wraps around your chin, much cooler than it’s supposed to be, and forces you to look him in the eye. In the back of your mind you realize that he turned on the cooling function in his arm to sooth your cheek; the arm was built to keep him cool in the Wakandan sun and heat. “Did daddy say you could suck his cock?” He uses his hand to shake your head from side to side, answering for you. “Then keep your slutty mouth shut.”

He spreads his legs wider and pulls your face closer to his heavy sack, already full of cum. “Hands behind your back, and suck on daddy’s balls.” You join your hands together behind your back without question and nuzzle his balls. Wasting no time, you take one into your mouth, sucking feverishly, enjoying the light dusting of hair tickling your face.

“Oh, fuck, come on, slut, I know you can do better than that. Take ‘em both in your dirty mouth.” He pushes you further into him, cutting off your oxygen, and you swear you hear your slick drip onto the floor. Your jaw aches as you try to get them both in your mouth, but you can't; his balls are too big. Bucky ruts against your face, squishing his balls, precum leaking from his tip, dripping onto his stomach after he takes his shirt off.

With your limited amount of movement, you alternate between each ball, licking at the seam. Every time you switch balls, you feel the other drag wetly across your face and you have to clench your legs in an attempt to quell the ache between them while fighting with your need for air. “Such a dirty bitch, lapping at your daddy’s nuts, shit.” He pulls you back just as your head starts to go fuzzy from the lack of oxygen, and you gasp for air, spit is covering the lower half of your face and is dripping down your neck and chest; Bucky feels his cock throb at the sight.

Reaching out, Bucky smears your spit around your face and leaves another, weaker smack to your cheek before he grabs his cock and uses his weeping tip to tease you, dragging it on your face. “What a nasty fucking bitch, drooling all over the place just from sucking some balls.” He slaps your cheeks with it a few times before forcing your head down all the way, making you gag and you immediately pull off, coughing.

He stares into your eyes, cold and calculating, waiting for you to speak. When your coughing subsides you manage to get out a hoarse ‘green,’ giving him the all clear. He takes your head and once again makes you take his cock, this time much slower and not as deep, the first time he wanted to fuck with you. “Such a perfect fucking mouth, shit.” He stops you from bobbing your head, “Stop being such a desperate whore and let daddy finish his movie.” You're sure you’re leaking onto the floor at this point.

You are able to see his face and he looks wrecked, mouth hanging open and head back; he’s not watching shit. Nonetheless, you rest your head on his thigh, getting comfortable, spreading your legs out to get closer to the floor so your head won't be bent at an awkward angle, ignoring the pain in your knees and the ache in your jaw. 

The only sounds filling the room are Bucky’s ragged breathing and the movie playing in the background. There is saliva everywhere, his cock, all over his balls, down to his ass and on the couch. His cock is constantly leaking precum into your mouth but you don’t swallow, letting his taste linger on your tongue. 

This isn’t what you wanted, you wanted him to demolish you. Sitting with his cock in your mouth is giving you too much time to think, so you do what any sane person would do - be a brat. At the first suckle, Bucky lets out a broken moan, at the second, he knows what you’re up to. Flicking your ear with his metal hand he hisses, “Don’t make me punish you, bitch.” At the third, he yanks you off of his dick, a trail of drool and precum keeping the two of you connected, as slaps you once again with his flesh hand, this time not soothing the marred flesh with his metal hand.

He stands and kicks the couch out of the way and pulls you with him by the neck. “You disobedient little-” he cuts himself short at the small puddle of slick that he finds from your previous position. “Is that what I think it is?” You only whine in response, his grip on your neck never faltering. 

With his free hand, he reaches down to your pussy to feel just how wet you are, confirming his suspicions. “What a dirty fucking slut, leaking all over my floor.” He pulls you in closer to him just to whisper, “Lick it the fuck up, bitch,” before pushing you to the ground. 

Your knees hit the wood hard and pain runs up your spine. You ignore the ache and brainlessly lap at your juices on the floor before Bucky smushes your cheek against the puddle and you moan. “Messy bitch, you are? Cunt is pulsing, waiting for my dick. Too bad I have to punish you, isn’t it, slut?” He leans down to the floor, eyes lined up with yours. “Daddy is going to give you ten spanks and I want you to count them.” You don’t respond immediately, stuck in a sort of limbo, drawn in further at the softness in his eyes.

No matter how hard he tries, Bucky can’t hide his devotion to you, that’s why he doesn’t let you look at him when he needs to play this role. His whole face softens at your silence, fearing he’s gone too far. “Color, sugar.” Stroking your cheek, he leans in closer, breathing you in.

“Green, daddy, so green.” The sigh Bucky lets out is audible and he feels ten times lighter.

“Good girl, you want to keep going the way we were?” Even though you said green, he wants to be certain.

“Yes please, daddy, want you to be mean.” You look so small and soft. Bucky struggles to put his facade back up, but he knows you need this.

Bucky positions himself behind you, staring at your ass and glistening pussy, and feels his cock bounce. The first slap isn’t soft by any means, you know there will be a handprint left. Your body jolts and Bucky groans at the jiggle of your ass. “One.” The second is on your other cheek and makes you clench around nothing. “Two.” He lands the next two much harder on the same cheek and you feel tears form in your eyes, yet continue to count, digging your nails into your palm.

He repeats the two spanks to your left cheek and takes a break to sooth your heated and raised skin with his metal hand after you’ve counted. The ground beneath your cheek is hard and unforgiving, leaving you neck bent at an odd angle. Spank seven lands on the back of your right thigh and somehow feels much stronger. “Shit! Seven, daddy.” Eight is on your left, and is just as hard. Your entire lower body aches: cunt pulsing and throbbing for his cock, thighs burning, and ass red and raw, sobbing with every impact.

“These last two are going to be harder, slut, since you forgot to count.” Even with his warning, you aren’t prepared. They are hard and fast, hearing them before you feel them, knocking the breath out of you, and you try to scramble up, but Bucky holds you down. “Don’t run away from me, you know better.” All of a sudden, the sharpest and most excruciating pain blooms from your cunt, and then you hear the wet smack of his metal hand hitting your core. 

You wail, body shooting up, legs fighting to close to soothe the sting left. Before you can, Bucky’s hand on the back of your head keeps you to the ground, while he slams his cock into your cunt, not stopping to let you adjust. “That’s it, fuck. Such a good pussy. Dirty fucking bitch.” You can’t breathe, his cock is knocking all of the air out of your lungs. The only sounds in the room are Bucky’s moans and the wet slapping of skin, his heavy balls banging against your sore clit. With each thrust you’re sure he’s hitting your cervix.

The hand on the back of your head leaves to grab your hip, letting him fuck you even faster, the both of you sliding further and further on the floor. You try to brace yourself with your hands, but the brutality of his fucking is no match. “Daddy, fuck, s-so g-good, please!” You don’t know what you’re begging for, but your cunt is pulling him in, barely letting him pull out.

Bucky is practically chasing you on the floor, hips never slowing down, eyes trained on your pussy, loving the creamy white mess on his dick. “Fuuuck, look at the ass bouncing on daddy’s cock, shit! Love the way this fat fucking ass looks when its all red and sore.” He’s in heaven, with the tight clench of your cunt wrapping around his cock, making him feel crazy.

“Daddy! I can’t, f-fuck, please, too much!” You’re fucking delirious with pleasure, feeling something twisting inside of you. You searched for something to hold on to, only finding smooth surface, legs locking, body seizing up.

“You can and you will take this dick, bitch. I don’t care if it makes you fucking bleed.” The pressure in your core builds tighter and tighter, all the while, Bucky’s hips never falter, sack still ramming against your clit.The breath is knocked out of you when you feel the most intense orgasm of your life pass through you.

Keening and wailing, you squirt on Bucky’s cock, the sounds of your fucking somehow getting even more wet until the force of your orgasm pushes his cock out. Your body is left twitching. There is a much larger puddle on the floor now - your cum. Bucky could fucking cum at the sight of your pathetic body laying on the ground, body wrought with pleasure. “Fuck, sugar! That was so fucking hot! You squirted all over, shit! I fucking love you so goddamn much.” 

The entire lower half of his body is covered with your cum and Bucky swears he can feel his heartbeat in his cock. Nonetheless, he wraps his arms around your waist and hulls you over to where he kicked the couch, placing your upper half on the cushions. “You’re so fucking wet now I bet I could slide right into that tight ass, what do you think, slut?” Your core pulses at the thought of his fat cock in your ass, the two of you don’t usually do anal, given how big he is, but you can’t think straight, especially after cumming so hard.

“Yes, daddy. I want your big cock in my ass, want you to fill me up.” Bucky groans at the thought of his excessive load running out of your ass. Leaning back, he ruts against your pussy, gathering more of your slick, before spreading your cheeks with his hands, staring at your puckered hole. He lines his cock up and watches as precum leaks from his tip.

His cock is huge, much longer and thicker than average, and he knows it. Grabbing himself near his tip, he pushes, grunting at the resistance, knowing that this would be much easier if he takes the time to prep you, but you want to be treated like a whore. “You gotta loosen the fuck up, bitch or else I’ll really fucking hurt you. Want this fucking ass so bad, better let daddy in. Cock is too big for this little ass, isn’t it, gonna split you in half, leave you leaking for days.” 

He pushes harder, tip finally popping in, causing searing pain to shoot through you. Crying out, you try to pull forward to escape the burning pain, wiggling further into the couch. Bucky leans over, careful not to push in any further, he knows you need a moment, any other time you would have been fully prepped and he would have slid right in, and wraps his metal hand around your neck, shushing you, “Shhhh, stop being so dramatic.” 

After a few minutes, the pain begins to subside and your breathing calms down. Keeping his hand around your throat, he pushes in, inch by inch, and the pain comes back. You whine into the cushion, every new inch burning more than the last until his hips are flush with your ass. “What the fuck?! Your ass is so fu-fucking tight, shit! Fucking milking my cock, wanna pound this little hole, wanna fucking ruin you.”

Burying his face in the back of your neck, Bucky was taking deep breaths, completely out of it. He wasn’t thinking straight, not when your tight hole was hugging every inch of his cock. You on the other hand, were struggling, it was too much too fast. It fucking hurt, there were tears in your eyes, but your pussy was aching like it wanted more. Your clit throbbed with need, even when your ass was stretched to the brim.

You didn’t want to stop, but you needed a break, before Bucky could move his hips you muttered, “Yellow, daddy, yellow.” The hand on your neck left and Bucky maneuvered his upper body so that he could look you in the eye without moving his cock. His entire demeanor was different, back was your sweet, caring boyfriend. 

“Good girl, daddy’s so proud of you for using your safe word. Shhh, it’s okay, sugar. Do you just need a second to breathe? Take your time, if you need to stop I will.” Bucky caresses your face as he soothes you, bringing you back down. His cock is still buried to the hilt in your ass, driving him insane. He wants to rail you so fucking bad, tip of his cock probably purple by now, but he would never do anything you didn’t want to, more than willing to sit with his cock inside of you until you’re ready or decide to stop.

You don’t know how much time passes, but eventually, you loosen up and your mind goes fuzzy once again, desperate for him to move. You wiggle your hips, rocking back and forth, instead of pain, blinding pleasure courses through you. “Green, daddy. I’m ready, just needed to get used to your fat cock, want you to pound into me.” Bucky lets out the most sinful groan and stills your hips with his hands.

He starts out slow, easing you into his motions, gradually gaining speed and force the louder your moans get. “Daddy, faster, please, harder, feels so good!” You were practically sobbing, loving the way he was splitting you open. His hips and thighs were wet from when you squirted on him, slapping against your ass, everytime he pulled back a vulgar shlick sound could be heard.

He fucked you faster and harder, staring at where you were connected. “This fucking ass feels incredible. Taking me so well, knew you could do it, fuck. Splitting your tiny ass in half. Oh God!” He could feel his orgasm building up, fighting it off everytime his cum filled sack slapped against your pussy. Letting go of your hips he snarled, “Show daddy how much of a fucking slut you are and bounce that fat ass on his cock.”

You whined, but complied anyway, digging your toes into the floor to get more leverage to keep slamming back on his cock. The sounds of skin slapping and both of your moans completely drowned out the ending of Bucky’s movie, not that either of you cared. Panting and moaning, you kept working yourself on him, feeling another orgasm bubbling up.

Meeting your thrusts, Bucky was rambling, not having one coherent thought in his head, “Look at that, give me that ass, yes! Don’t you dare fucking stop, bitch, want you to milk this cock. Love the way it fucking bounces, never seen anything like it, oh fuck!” He was getting whiny, high pitched moans falling from his lips. He couldn’t help it, his cock was too fucking sensitive and you felt too good. 

“M Gonna cum, daddy! Can I cum?” Bucky practically growls, getting up to his feet to squat, not missing a beat while still trusting in you. Every time his pelvis met your ass he whined and whimpered, loving the way it jiggled. He could feel you clenching around him, drawing his own orgasm closer.

“Not until I do. Fucking hold it, bitch.” It seemed impossible, but Bucky fucked you even faster, his hips moving at a ferocious speed. He wanted to cum so fucking bad and your high pitched moans were about to make him bust. “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. I’m gonna fucking nut. You want daddy to fill your ass up, huh? God! Fuck, I’m splitting you in two. Uhhh. Balls are so heavy, so much cum. Fuuuuuuck. Daddy’s gonna fill you up, have you leaking.”

His hand wraps around your throat and chokes you, hips still smashing against yours, your orgasm barely being held in. You try to talk, get him to let you cum, but no words come out. Bucky felt his orgasm approach, balls pulling up, “Shiiit, daddy’s gonna cum, gonna flood your ass, you ready, cum with your daddy. Right. Fucking. Now.” Bucky cums with a long, drawn out moan. The feeling of his endless load pouring into your ass sends you over the edge and you cum so hard your vision goes black for a second. Waves upon waves of pleasure coursing through you. Bucky’s hips jerk involuntarily, prolonging both of your orgasms. 

As you both catch your breaths, you feel Bucky begin to soften inside of you, still plugging your hole, stopping his cum from leaking back out. “You were so good for me, sugar. I’m so proud of you.” At those words you feel your bottom lip begin to tremble. Burying your face into the cushions, a sob escapes your throat, all of your emotions finally bubbling over.

Running his hands up and down your back, Bucky soothes you. This was always his least favorite part, seeing you cry. He knows that you’re crying isn’t because of him, but there is always a twinge of fear that shoots through his body, scared that he went too far with you. Bucky pulls out as gently as he can, hissing when the air touches his spent dick, and moves to rest his back against the couch, pulling you into his lap.

Neither of you care that his cum is leaking all over. Bucky will clean the room later, after he takes care of his sweet girl. You cling to him as you sob into his neck, his hands massage your sore cheeks as he whispers in your ear, “Such a good girl for me, you made me feel so fucking good. Can’t even begin to explain how good you felt. There you go, let it out. I’m right here.”

Carefully, he picks you up and carries you to the bathroom. When he tries to set you down you just cling on harder to him, not wanting to leave his embrace. “I gotta draw us a bath, sugar. You know you have to pee, I’ll be right here when you’re done.” You hesitantly let him go while he draws the bath, putting in your favorite oils. After you pee and wipe, he helps you up so you can wash your hands before sitting you both in the tub.

Bucky sits against the wall of the tub and you curl further into his lap, not wanting any space in between you. Somehow you still aren’t close enough to him, wanting to be surrounded completely by him. Tears are still leaking down your face and even with Bucky’s consuming presence, you can’t seem to pull yourself up to the surface. Bucky’s arms are wrapped around you, making sure that you are as close as possible without him being inside of you.

“Sweets, can you look at me? Want to see those pretty eyes.” You can hear the concern in Bucky’s voice, but you can’t bring yourself to move away. He’s your safe space and you just want to bask in his warmth. “Sweets, please. Can you tell me how you feel? I need to know you’re okay.” You don’t know why that set you off, but all of a sudden more tears escape you, sobs fighting to make their way out.

Bucky’s entire world stops, fear shoots up his spine. He doesn’t know if he could live with himself if he hurt you, if he did something that you didn’t want. He knows that you asked him to treat you like a whore, but what if you didn’t want him to go as far as he did? You used your safe word when it got to be too much, but what if you really wanted to say red, not yellow, but wanted to please him, or felt like you had to please him. “Sweetheart, did I hurt you? Did I go too far? Please talk to me.”

Even though you didn’t want to talk, you could hear that he was about to cry. “I’m okay. Just love you so much.” You could feel Bucky relax under you.

“You sure, sweets? I’ve never seen you like this before.” While some of his fears subsided, Bucky was still worried about you.

Picking your head up so you could look him in the eye, you saw just how scared Bucky truly was. “I promise, Buck, I loved every second of it. You made me feel so good and cared for. No one has ever made me feel the way you do.” Bucky closed his eyes and let his head fall back against the wall. At that moment, Bucky understood why aftercare was so important. Of course he knew you needed to be taken care of so that you knew how much he loved you, but hearing those words come out of your mouth made him feel loved in a way he didn’t know was possible. 

Before the water gets cold you’ve stopped crying, making Bucky feel much better and he washes the sweat and spit off of your face and body, being extra careful with your sensitive pussy and ass. All the while whispering sweet nothings into your ear while you take turns kissing each other all over.

Bucky feels ten times lighter when he gets a giggle out of you. He knows that there will be days when you need him to treat you like a slut, but you know how much he loves and respects you. He lays you on the bed before grabbing your favorite lotion to put on, being extra careful when it comes to your sore ass, placing kisses in each spot after he's rubbed in the lotion.

 The marks on your face are gone by now, but Bucky still fusses over your skin care routine, knowing you don’t have the energy to complete it. After taking care of you, he climbs into bed and covers the both of you up, still naked but you don’t care. Bucky reaches into the bedside drawer and grabs some chocolate while you feed it to each other. Neither of you say much, but nothing needs said. 

You place kisses on his chest and arms, anywhere that you can reach, trying to let him know how much you appreciate him - Bucky knows. You fall asleep first, not being able to keep your eyes open any longer, Bucky moves you to his chest, cocooning you into him before he falls asleep, your head tucked carefully under his chin, legs tangled together, completely protected by him.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky x y/n #bucky imagine #bucky smut #bucky x female reader #bucky x you #sebastian stan x reader #bucky fanfic #james bucky barnes #dom bucky barnes #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan smut #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff

[gojonanami]

❝ 𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐓 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 ❞

❝ PROF GETO BROKE YOUR HEART & NOW YUTA IS HOT ?? ❞

✧ pairing: prof!suguru geto x f!reader (& grad student! yuta x f!reader)

✧ summary: after suguru leaves you broken hearted, yuta's there for you when you're putting your heart back together, and he's not sure when or if he even wants you to tell you how you feel. but what happens when you start to realize your feelings?

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut , fluff, angst, depictions of student/teacher relationship (only ok in fiction not irl!!!), reader and yuta are grad students, but age is vague, dealing with a breakup, fingering (f! receiving), handjob (m! receiving), oral (f! + m! receiving), sex (p in v), creampie, amateur's take on moral philsophy and ethics, art by @ / polariae (who is incredible and everyone should go follow them now!!)

✧ wc: 12,464

Yuta felt as if he was always running late — for everything. 

He had transferred into this university a year into his schooling, he was always running late to meetings, and he was too late when he fell for you. 

But he seemed to have good timing in this moment — as he ran into you, as why was it he could always find you effortlessly without trying, but there was no smile on your lips when you met his gaze, but only tears — if only so he could comfort you. 

He says your name, as he stops you gently, fingers brushing against your shoulders, as your gaze falls to the ground, “What happened? Are you—” 

“Yuta, I’m sorry, I have to go—” but he stops you for a moment. 

“If you don’t want to talk to me, that’s completely fine, but can I call someone?” he says gently, he could see the tears slipping off your cheeks, even as you attempted to wipe them away, “I don’t think you should be alone—” 

And then you’re hugging him, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I shouldn’t—but I—” 

His arms go around you gently, “It’s okay, don’t apologize, I’m here for you,” and he doesn’t know what else to do but stand there with you, as curious gazes of passersby watched the two of you, “come on, let’s go somewhere more private.” 

~~~

When had he fallen for you? It was hard to say, but apparently easy to see. 

“So did you tell her you like her?” And Yuta nearly spits his drink out when Maki asks him that after one of the student government meetings. She sipped at the can of black coffee, nonchalantly, her eyebrows raised at his sputtering. He wipes his mouth, a slight glare in his gaze, “based on that reaction, I would say no,” 

“What are you talking—“ and your name leaves Maki’s lips, and his cheeks flush, ears burning, as he presses his knuckles to his lips, unable to meet her gaze, “was it that obvious?” 

“To a person with eyes,” and his gaze snaps to her, a question on his lips, “no, she doesn’t know,” 

Yuta slumps back in the chair he was sitting in, as he sets his drink down on the round table, “how can I tell her? She has a boyfriend,” 

“One that she doesn’t even see that often,” Maki leans back in her chair, “I’ll give you some unsolicited advice, Yuta — if you keep having these feelings and don’t do anything about it, you’ll regret it,” 

But how could he do anything when he already knew you were struggling? It wasn’t enough that your boyfriend was far away, but he didn’t seem to make time to come see you — even on your birthday — but to push his feelings on you on top of that. It wasn’t fair. 

So he had to settle on being your friend, just your friend. 

“What happened?” He asks again when the two of you get to a secluded corner of campus, a bench far enough away, as you sniffled, wiping your tears and murmuring apologies, “you don’t have to talk about it—“ 

And you shake your head, “My boyfriend, he, uh, broke up with me,” and he stares at you — your voice wavering as you speak, “I just, didn’t expect that to, you know—“ 

Yuta tilts his head, speaking softly, “Why don’t I take you back to your apartment?” 

So he does, taking the quick metro ride there, as your fingers brush his as the two of you walk beside each other. The silence hangs as comfortably as it can, your eyes straight ahead, as he sneaks glances at you. He wants nothing more than to take your hand, to tell you it would be okay, but he couldn’t — he didn’t want to overstep. It had already been hard enough to contain his feelings when you were with someone — and now that you weren’t — he wanted nothing more than to love you as you deserved to be loved. 

But it wasn’t his love you wanted — and it wasn’t what you needed either. 

You needed a friend, not a lover, more than ever. 

“Thank you for bringing me home, Yuta,” you mumble, shaking your head, “I’m sorry, I’m such a mess — I’m not being—“ 

“You don’t have to be anything, you’re fine,” he says softly, as you fumble with your keys, “do you want company?” 

You give a terse chuckle, as you unlock the door, “I’m not the best company right now, Yuta,” 

And he could have told you that you were the company he always wanted, the company he never would say no to — good or bad — but he couldn’t. So he said something else. 

“Then I guess I’ll have to make up for it by being very good company,” and you give a watery laugh, shaking your head, as you hesitate, glancing over your shoulder. 

“Are you sure?” And he only steps past you into your apartment, as he smiles. 

“Come on, I’ll order us dinner and you can put on an…interesting movie again,” and your lips quirk up as you step past him into the apartment. 

He couldn’t be more than a friend — not now — but maybe at some point. But he would be happy to just be in your life. 

That was enough. 

~~~

He wasn’t enough, Suguru sat in the train, the sun long set on Tokyo as he watched the city fade into the distance — as he leaned his face against the glass of the window. He had taken a late train back to Kyoto — one of the last — he could have taken an earlier one, but he had lost track of time. 

How long did he stand there? 

It felt like hours — minutes had ticked by as such, but he knew it was long enough for him to miss several trains by the time he had left for the station. It was long enough that he saw you disappear in the distance, Yuta assumedly in tow. 

It was right — it was what was necessary. That’s what he told himself as he watched the scenery move past him in seconds, but it felt as if time had stood still. He could hear the soft snores and quiet murmuring of the sparse passengers among the train, the footsteps of others as they walked up and down the aisle, and the steady shudder of the train as it ran along to its destination. But still, it felt as if he was still trapped behind glass in that moment, he watched himself drop your heart, watched it shatter beneath his feet, and he didn’t go after you. 

Why didn’t go after you? 

He asked himself again and again — but the only answer amongst the buzzing white noise that had only served to numb his mind to the pain was that it was necessary. 

He had always known you had a bright future — you could anywhere, lecture overseas, do fellowships or a Phd program, or even become a professor elsewhere. But when he had spoke to Yaga, it had solidified in his mind even more so — he wasn’t giving you what you needed and he was holding you back while he was at it. 

And the worse part was he knew you would never blame him — not for a minute. You would try to make it work. Long distance, giving opportunities up, or even choosing him over yourself. And he couldn’t abide letting you give up what you wanted for him — even if it wasn’t what you would have chosen. Because he knew you would always choose him. 

So he had to be the one to choose you. 

He needed to leave you behind, just as he had left Tokyo. He had made his choice, and now he had to live with it — and live without you. 

It was necessary. It was right — he shut his eyes, leaning against the window beside his seat, tears burning at the corners, as a tear rolled past hidden behind his hand  — so why did it feel so wrong to be without you? 

~~~

You didn’t want to wake up.  

You pulled the comforter over your head, finding refuge underneath the plush duvet, and wondering if it was possible to stay under here long enough for your problems to disappear. But you knew the pain would remain, but even so, you sought the sweet escape of sleep — if only for a few hours, you didn’t have to feel this heartache, you didn’t have to remember this. 

You didn’t have to remember him. 

And then there’s a knock on your door, a persistent knock that draws you from the arms of your only oasis under your sheets, and you drag yourself from bed, your eyes aching from your tears from last night. 

Fuck, you rubbed at your eyes. You glanced at the couch, finding no one there — when did Yuta leave last night? You couldn’t remember — and you’re dead on your feet as you find your way to the door, opening it without a thought. 

And your breath caught.  

“Suguru?” you stared, as he stood in front of you, bouquet of flowers in hand. You stumbled over your words as gracefully as you had gotten out of bed, as his arms wrapped around you. You stood motionless for a moment before melting into his touch, tears burning at your eyes yet again, “what are you doing here? Why—“ 

“What do you mean?” he murmurs, running his fingers through his hair, “you know I can’t stand to spend more than a few hours away from you,” and you’re burying your face in his chest, biting back the urge to sob then and there. 

You kept your tone as even as you can manage as you pull away, “Suguru, you said—“ 

“I know I’m early, but we can just spend some time together before we head out—“ 

And you’re shaking your head, “Head out where?” 

He furrows his brow in confusion, a chuckle escaping his lips, “Did you forget? You’re the one who insisted that we should be early — you kept saying we couldn’t be late,”

“To what?” 

“Our engagement party,” he takes your hand gently intertwining your fingers to show you the ring you wore — and you’re staring at it, as he presses sweet kisses to each of your knuckles, “now shouldn’t you get ready? Or are you the one who’ll make us late?” 

“Suguru—“ and his lips find yours in a gentle kiss, warmth blooming from his touch alone, your fingers finding purchase on his shoulder. For a second, it’s real and it’s right — Suguru has found his way back to you. 

Right? 

And his lips part from yours, his fingers brushing your cheek, “I love you,” he murmurs, saying your name again and again and—

A hand brushes your shoulder and you jolt awake, your hand slapping whatever had touched you away, as your fingers grasped at your comforter. You blinked, as your breath slowed, and you had found yourself in bed—

Again. 

And another mutter of your name snaps your gaze up to find Yuta standing a foot from your bedside now, his brow wrinkled, holding his hand in the other—

Fuck. 

“Oh my god, Yuta, I’m sorry — I was having a—“ you cut off a moment, you didn’t know whether to call it a dream or a nightmare, “just, I’m sorry,” you cover your face with your hands, “I barely remember getting into bed last night,” 

He waves you off, “It’s ok, I know you had a rough night,” he offers a small smile, “I had to help you into bed — you were a little out of it, so I just stayed on the couch,” 

You groan, wishing you could burrow into the Earth and never emerge, “I’m sorry, it won’t happen again—I’m sorry I made you stay—“ 

“You don’t have to apologize,” he says softly, “I’m your friend — I’m here for you,” and you swallow, tears burning at your eyes again, “s-sorry, did I?” 

And you shake your head before slipping out of bed and hugging him, “Thank you, Yuta, really,” and he wrapped his arms around you tentatively, “I think you’re my best friend,” 

You were so lucky to have him — especially when you needed someone the most. 

“Of course,” he murmured, and you didn’t not know his heart was aching ever so slightly, “you’re mine too.” 

~~~

“Do you want to talk about what happened with…your boyfriend?” Yuta knew the only way you would be able to heal is by talking about it — and that’s the one thing you had avoided doing all weekend. Sure you talked — but about the movies you were watching, about classes, about anything — then what had happened.

You hadn’t brought it up since that morning, you had washed up and it was as if he had imagined what had happened. You made breakfast, you put on a movie, and you joked about his allegedly questionable restaurant choices. But not a word about your dream or about your breakup. 

But he knew he had to ask. 

You were just coming off laughing at something that had happened in the rom-com you had switched on, and your lips fell into a seamless frown, as if the facade of happiness melted off with his words. 

Your gaze falls, arms tightening around the cushion in your lap, a bitter chuckle falling from your lips, “does anyone ever want to talk about their breakup?” 

He furrows his brow, “Bottling it up won’t help you heal from it — the only way is to let it out, and I can’t tell you what to do but—“ he bites his bottom lip, your eyes never lifting to meet his, “I know you need to let it out, one way or another,” 

You pause a moment, as you press your face against the cushion, “It hurts too much, Yu, I don’t know if I can,” 

“It doesn’t have to be now, I just want you to—“ 

“We were long distance,” and he’s opening his mouth to cut you off, but you shake your head, “you’re right — if I don’t talk about it now, I never will,” 

So you told him. Told him how you both had gotten together right before your boyfriend had received a job offer that required him to move, how the two of you decided to date regardless, and how you continued to be long distance even after he started. 

“It just got harder to see each other, and he ran late on my birthday but I didn’t care—“ and Yuta tilts his head, “I mean, I did care — but I knew it was temporary. I was going to graduate and move to be with him—“ and your nails dig into the soft fabric of the cushion, “but it didn’t matter. He thought it was for the best — for my best interest — that we break up,” 

He furrows his brow. This, the crying and heartache, was for your best interest? “Why—“ 

“Because he thought I was limiting my options, that he wasn’t a good enough boyfriend — one that I deserved,” you shake your head, tossing the cushion aside on the couch, “but he didn’t understand — I just wanted him—I knew it would be different when we were together—“ your voice breaks, “but he didn’t want to wait.” 

Yuta lets you talk and lets you rant and cry — until you’re asleep after lunch, taking a nap on the couch beside him. And he wonders if this is helping, but at least you’re sleeping now — he spotted the bags under your eyes when he saw you wake in the morning — as if you had spent the entire night tossing and turning. 

Was this okay for him? He wasn’t expecting anything — aside from your friendship. He didn’t think you were going to wake up and fall in love only because he did what a friend should do. But was it okay for him to be here? 

Because he couldn’t quash the little bit of hope that inched its way into the crevice of his heart that maybe you’d heal from this — maybe you would be able to get over this and you’d see him, as more than a friend or a best friend. He wanted to think he would do this even if he didn’t have feelings for you — it would probably be easier if he didn’t. 

But the facts stand that his motivation was corrupt — he chuckled, fuck, even the philosophy you had dosed him with, during your meals and student government meetings, was infecting his mind. Motivation mattered — because if you know or expect a reward from doing something, no matter how hard you try, your motivation will always be just that,

And his eyes slide to you — fast asleep as he grabs the throw blanket on your couch and gently places it over you — but he wouldn’t mind being corrupt, if it meant he could stay with you. 

~~~

“She broke up with her boyfriend?” Maki raises an eyebrow, placing her drink down, “and you still haven’t told her?” Maki’s judgment pierced through Yuta, even as he couldn’t quite meet her gaze, biting his lip, “what are you waiting for? For her to get back together with him?” 

“Maki, I can’t make a move so soon—she’s vulnerable—“ 

She sighs, leaning back, as she crosses her arms, “Well, you’re a good guy for that, but you need to do something, even if it’s not confessing. You should try spending more time with her, encourage her to open up more—“ 

“I don’t know — I don’t want to overstep—“ 

“Yuta,” Maki cuts him off, “you’re a good guy and you deserve to be happy — you spend a lot of time worrying about other people, and not enough time thinking about yourself. If she’s not ready right now that’s fine, but she might not realize she’s ready until someone helps her to,” she tilts her head, her fingers beginning to toy with the straw of her drink, “I just don’t want to see you regret hesitating,” 

Yuta’s phone went off — your name flashing on the screen, hey, are you free to hang out and watch a movie tonight? Finally finished working on my thesis proposal for the night! 

Maki glances at his phone, raising an eyebrow, “just don’t wait too long, “or you may end up alone, either way.” 

~~~

“I told you we should have gotten dumplings tonight,” you grumble, as the two of you take your takeout back to your apartment, the sun beginning to dip below the horizon, “I can’t believe the sushi place was closed,” you pout. 

And Yuta bites back a smile — his cheeks burn — god, you’re so cute. It wasn’t fair. He knew you were just mostly teasing — only so you could have the pick of the movie tonight — which you knew he’d give you anyway. 

The two of you had settled into these weekly movie nights on Fridays, which had a 70% chance of devolving into a weekend of hangouts amidst work for your programs. It had been weeks since your breakup — and your sadness seemed to ebb with each passing day, normalcy seemingly returning. 

“We could have gone there—“ and you give a long, over dramatic sigh, shaking your head. 

“It’s fine, but if this food sucks, I will be holding this over your head,” you bump him with your shoulder, a smile on Yuta’s lips, and right then someone calls out Yuta’s name. The two of you glance back, and Yuta blinks as he spots his friends. 

“Toge, Panda,” Yuta greets them, Toge’s hands raise as he begins to sign— 

Hey, who’s your friend?

Yuta replies, before gesturing to you, introducing you by name, “we’re just headed back to watch a movie—“ and he points from the shorter one to the taller one, “this is Toge and Panda,” Panda flashes a knowing smile, adjusting his leather jacket, head tilting as he gives you a small once over. Toge’s lips are covered with his face mask, his dyed silver hair brushing against his forehead — 

Panda grins between the two of you, “Ah it’s good to meet you — I heard about you from Yuta, and Maki," he adds, while Yuta shoots him a look that he hopes that you don’t notice, “how’s the work in student government? I hope Maki isn’t working you too hard,” but you seem oblivious to it, only smiling between the two of them. 

“No it hasn’t been bad, and Yuta has made it really easy. He’s been a really big help—“ and Panda before leaning over to whisper in Yuta’s ear. 

“You have a chance with her, don’t mess it up,” Panda’s elbowing him, before clapping him on the back, his arm slinking around his shoulders, while Yuta tries to will his blush to leave his cheeks, “well we should let them get going, right, Toge?” and Toge nods, and Yuta only knows Toge has a smile hidden under his mask as well, flashing a thumbs up out of your line of sight, while you glance between Yuta and Panda, “you two love birds have fun!” 

And Yuta stammered, “We’re not together like that,” he’s shooting a glare at Panda’s back as the two of them walk off, waving. And his eyes snuck a glance at you, but you seemed unfazed, only tilting your head — and shit, his head was spinning, heart doing its best to exit via his chest by banging against his ribs. Did you know? Was it obvious? Was this it? 

“I didn’t know you knew sign language,” 

And apparently it wasn’t. 

“Uh, yeah, yeah, I learned when I met Toge in high school,” he offers a forced smile — but relief isn’t the only thing that floods his system, disappointment comes in waves — because again, here he was, right back at the start. 

The two of you continued to chat on the walk back to your apartment, his fingers curled tightly around the handles of the takeout bag as you pulled out your keys, wondering how many more times would he do this — how many more times would he think you realized his feelings only for it to remain unspoken? He was more than okay to stay your friend, but — he watched you open the door to your apartment — would he regret not taking a shot at being something more? 

And as you glanced back at him, a smile on your lips, he knew he would. 

~~~

You didn’t think it would — but it had gotten easier, easier to be without Suguru. 

There were days you still had woken up crying, there were other days you had almost forgotten.  

Almost. 

But now in hindsight, adjusting to life without Suguru hadn’t been much different than being with him the last few months. Not when the two of you had barely seen each other. You had put away his things, tucked away the memories, and picked up the scattered parts of your life —even though you couldn’t find the piece he had taken with him. 

But even so, you had finally felt as if you boarded up the love the two of you had built, one that he had set on fire and burnt the insides to nothing but ash and smoke — the same fire that had you coughing up the broken pieces of your heart — throat burning with his name on the tip of your tongue. 

Even so — your fingers found the dragon pendant under your shirt, some things were harder to let go than others. 

But it shouldn’t be hard, right? Love shouldn’t present so many obstacles — it should be simple, easy — not difficult and tenuous. And that’s all your relationship had been — only due to circumstance, but sometimes that was enough. 

And in your case, it had been too much.  

But you knew you couldn’t have made it through without Yuta. Your eyes slide to him, his face illuminated only by the glow of the TV — lights turned off for the best movie night experience. Or at least not as quickly as you did. He was leaning back against the couch, his head leaning towards your side. 

You bite your lip. Your mind wanders to what Panda had said — love birds — it hadn’t been the first time someone had commented on the two of you together. How many of your friends had made some comments about Yuta, even the ones in student government (Maki in particular had been dropping not so subtle hints)? How many of them had you brushed off without a second thought? 

But now — ever so conscious of his weight beside you on the couch, of every twitch of his fingers, shift of his limbs — you had second thoughts. 

You had tried your best to play off Panda’s comment, and Yuta did the same, the two of you had grown used to dancing around this topic. And before you hadn’t thought of Yuta that way in the slightest— not with everything going on — not with your mind still full of Suguru. 

But now…His eyes softly lit by the bouncing lights of the movie, until they found yours, and somehow growing even softer, as his lips curled. 

“Need something?” When was it that Yuta could make your heart flutter with only a smile? He was a friend — right? Just a friend, but now—

He leans over, your heart squeezing as he does — your eyes nearly fluttering shut, his hand brushing your cheek, only for the barest of touches. And your cheeks burned in the dim light of the TV. 

“You had something on your cheek,” he explains, and you nod, biting your lip — as you snap your gaze away, and a small chuckle on his lips, “What is it?”

What was it about him now? His smile was just a smile, his eyes were just eyes, and his presence was only comfort. And now — his smile made your stomach bloom with butterflies, his eyes were depths you wished to swim in, and his presence gave you comfort but in the loneliest of ways — the gap between you both a cliff you stared down, unable to jump. 

So you shake your head instead, “It’s nothing,” you smile as you press your knuckles to your lips. 

Maybe your head was full of someone else for once. 

~~~

“Do you want to grab dinner tonight?” You ask Yuta — a routine for most other weeknights, as you grabbed your bag, as you wait for him outside the conference room as the student government meeting ended for another week, “I heard this new restaurant opened up near my apartment, and we could hang out at my place after—“ 

“I—“ 

“Yuta?” A cute girl comes up to Yuta, and he smiles as he greets her, she pulls Yuta aside, as he chats with her just out of earshot, her hand grazing his shoulder. 

And your stomach turns, a twinge in your heart as you watch the two — you don’t remember Yuta mentioning her, but then again, Yuta rarely talked about himself, even when you asked. It was like pulling teeth — and now here he was. Now, he was smiling at a girl you knew nothing about. 

What was this feeling? You shifted from foot to foot, restlessness settling over your body as you purse your lips as if to prevent unnecessary words from spilling from your lips. Why did you feel so...helpless? Your arms crossed over your chest as if that would hold you together — keep your heart from falling back into the pieces you had meticulously put back together. 

Oh. 

Oh. 

You watched them talk, as the girl finally seemingly said her goodbye and flashed a small smile your way before disappearing down the hallway. 

“Sorry,” Yuta walks back over, a smile on his lips, but you knew that smile wasn’t for you. Not like before, “yeah let’s grab dinner,” 

And you weren’t the same either—

“You have nothing to apologize for,” you force your lips to curl, as you walk past him, “let’s go,” 

—because you were jealous.

~~~

“Yuta, have you thought about dating?'' Your question comes seemingly out of nowhere one night, right after midterms, and Yuta has to stop himself from spitting out the sip of his tea he had taken, forcing himself to swallow. It doesn’t go unnoticed by you, your eyebrow raising, “you good?” 

“Y-yeah sorry,” he clears his throat, hoping his cheeks weren’t flushed red from that, “why do you ask?” 

“I was just curious because we’ve talked a lot about my dating life, but nothing about yours,” it was late, or rather early—nearly 3 AM on a Saturday night, the two of you were half asleep on the couch, stuck in a stubborn battle of not wanting to sleep quite yet, “you don’t talk a lot about yourself,” 

“There’s not much to say,” he shrugs, and your raised brow tells him you’re not satisfied with his reply, he relents with a sigh, “there was a girl I liked when I was a kid — Rika, we met when I was in the hospital,” and your lips twist into a frown, “I was sick a lot when I was little, and that’s when I met Rika. She lived with her grandparents — her parents both had passed when she was even younger. We were inseparable—“ he gives a soft chuckle, “but then she…” his voice wavers. 

“You don’t have to—“ and he’s shaking his head. 

“We were playing and she went into the street to cross when a car sped by—“ and he shakes his head, “she didn’t make it,” your fingers knit together, before one of your hands finds his.

“You didn’t have to share that if you weren’t ready,” and he’s offering a weak smile, squeezing your hand. 

“I wanted to,” he sighs, as he rubs at his eye, “there’s not much I wouldn’t tell you,” and you supposed that was the difference between him and Suguru — communication that wasn’t limited, a conversation that wasn’t one sided, and honesty — without a price. 

“So there’s been no one else since Rika?” you tilt your head, and you swear you see a twinge of red across his cheeks, dusting his features even in the dim light. 

“Why are you asking?” he says slowly, it feels as if he’s caught you, as your gaze snaps away, a pout on your lips, as you press your knuckles to your lips — and it’s as if he got a hold of your thoughts, “is it because of Kirara earlier?” 

“Oh, that’s her name?” Yuta has to bite back a small smile at your narrowed eyes, unable to meet his gaze, “how do you—” 

“She’s a friend from high school — and she’s dating another old friend from high school,” he adds, and your eyes snap to his, “I don’t like her like that anyway — she’s just a good friend, and likes to give me unsolicited advice on my fashion sense,” 

Your lips curl, “Well you are a little basic in your—” and he cuts you off with a look, and you’re shifting your body to face him fully, “so if it’s not Kirara, you don’t have anyone in mind? Not even a crush?” 

Your question feels like an answer in and of itself — along with the look you’re giving him — the same one he had always given you, when you weren’t looking — longing. But what if he was wrong? What if he was projecting? But he could spend his whole time wondering, and never knowing — or he could take the leap. 

He chews on his bottom lip, and he steels himself, his gaze turning back to you, “and if I said there was?” 

Were you ready for this? Would you ever be ready for this? Suguru still lingered in the back of your mind collecting cobwebs, on the tip of your tongue like a curse unspoken — and yet your forefront was filled with nothing but Yuta — his kindness, his honesty, his straightforward nature — all things you hadn’t gotten from Suguru when it mattered, when it counted. And it would be easy — there would be no complications — other than the complications that always came with relationships and emotions. 

But that was far simpler than what you and Suguru had to deal with. 

“Then I’d ask you,” your fingers reaching across a line that was meant to be crossed, but one that perhaps you shouldn’t anyway, “what are you waiting for?” and your hand finds his — his hand smaller than the one you’re used to, but warmer and softer. 

“I don’t want to rush—” and you’re shaking your head, as your squeeze his hand, fingers laced together, as your thumb runs over his palm. 

“We don’t have to,” you murmur, your gaze finding his, and he’s leaning closer to you, as if with a magnetic pull — and you find yourself attracted and not repelled to his pull, “we can take our time, can’t we?” 

And his lips curl into a small smile, his dark eyes nearly consumed by the shadows underneath them, but somehow as soft as they always were — “Is this a dream?” he murmurs, whisper like, as if his words would ripple across the surface of reality until it disappeared within its depths, “I wanted to tell you for so long — but I didn’t know it if was too soon or if—” 

“I know,” it had been three months, three months since you had your heart broken, but you were tired of wallowing, of trying to put your heart back together by yourself — you may have filled in the cracks, but maybe you needed someone to cement the parts back into one — and maybe Yuta was the one, “and maybe it is, but I want to try,” you admit, “is that wrong?” 

And how could he say it was — when it was all he wanted?” 

“No,” his fingertips brush against your cheek, “maybe it’s just right.” 

~~~

He shifted in his sleep, a warm body pressed against him, his arms slinking around your own, your face buried in his neck in the best way he could imagine. Your fingers raked through his jet black locks, you pressed a sweet kiss to his neck, and a soft groan left his lips. 

“Baby, finally awake?” your lips press a smile against his skin, your finger drawing a circle against his chest, “we have to get up soon, we’ll be late,” you murmur, “and I know how you feel about being late,” your nose brushes against his jumping pulse, “Sugu?” 

Suguru groans softly, burying his face in your hair, “Five more minutes,” and you chuckle against him, his favorite sound that graces his ears, his eyes fluttering shut again, as he surrounds himself in your scent — the notes of lavender and rosemary from your shampoo, “just want to spend a few more minutes with you, sweetheart — I need you,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. 

You hum, rubbing his head softly, fingers curling around one of the locks of his hair, “I don’t recall you gracing me with five minutes when I was late on that first day,” 

He groans, shifting only to bury himself in your chest, pressing soft kisses to the valley between your breasts, nose pressed against the hollow of your throat, the cold metal of the dragon pendant against his cheek, “I wasn’t your boyfriend then,” he’s leaning back only to press a sweet kiss to your lips, again and again — it always felt so right being with you. 

“But you’re not my boyfriend now,” and he pauses, before glancing up at you, your eyes glassy with tears, “remember?” your fingers ghosted over his cheek. 

RING. RING. RING. 

His eyes don’t bother to open as he reaches for his phone, turning off the ringer, before his hand reaches for you, only to find an empty space beside him. He flutters his eyes open, glancing over, and finds your absence beside him. 

It had been months, but you still haunted him—and he would spend the rest of his life running from the ghost of what could have been—and pretending it doesn’t hurt. 

He turns on his side to look away from your side of the bed — even though it still did.

~~~

You stared at the outfits laid out on the bed — practically your entire closet threw up your complete wardrobe, and even so, you couldn’t find a single thing you wanted to wear. Or rather— 

You tossed another blouse onto the pile— you couldn’t find a single thing that didn’t remind you of Suguru. One of these he had said brought out your eyes, the other he had picked out for you, and the other he had taken you out on your one month anniversary for a surprise date. 

There were too many memories — and too many that you didn’t care to relive. Especially today, as your phone goes off — I’ll be on my way over soon. Are you almost ready? 

Fuck. Yuta was on his way almost and you hadn’t even finished picking an outfit. 

By almost ready, do you mean not ready at all? You bite your lip, I know it’s silly but I can’t decide what to wear. 

You dig two outfits out of the bottom of the pile — and stare at them — you didn’t like to wear new outfits on a first date, but maybe this would be a fresh start for you. One where you could leave behind some of the memories tied around your ankles like anchors, dragging you down the depths of waters you didn’t want to explore any longer. 

Your phone goes off again — You’d look amazing in anything — I’ll be there soon. 

Your lips curl at the sight of his text — you choose a dress, tugging your shirt over your head and your shorts down, before pulling the dress down. And you adjust your hair in the mirror, before looking closely at yourself — a glint catching your eyes. 

Your fingers ghost over the dragon pendant — you hadn’t been able to bring yourself to take it off. But maybe it was time — and your hands reach around unclasping the chain before placing it in the palm of your hand. 

Your fingertip traces over the rainbow colored gems — and he wondered if he even still thought of you like you thought of him. It was so easy for him to leave — so did he put you out of his mind while he was at it? You held the necklace over the trash bin next to your vanity — your fingers squeezing at the chain and pendant, as it dug into your skin — should you toss it away like he had with you? 

No —you pulled your hand back — no, you couldn’t. You placed the necklace in the box it came in, tucking it away behind some things. 

You heard your phone go off again, as you spared one last glance at the vanity, where the box was hidden away— 

Because it still meant something to you. Even if it didn’t to him. 

~~~

“You complain about my movies, but the one you chose was much worse,” you say as you unlock your apartment, “that plot line made little to no sense,” 

“If you suspend your disbelief—“ 

You stop, your key hanging from your door, as you stare at him, “I can believe that supernatural powers exist in that universe, but why would the universe entrust these powers to the stupidest people alive?” He snorts, as you continue unlocking the door, as you spare a glance at Yuta who is still fidgeting near your doorway, “you gonna come in?” 

“I-well, I thought since this our first date, maybe I shouldn’t since you wouldn’t do that one a first date,” and you blink, your lips curling, as you watch him trip over his words, cheeks tinged pink, “not that anything would happen if I did come in—but—“ 

You step closer, silencing his words, seemingly stuck in his throat, “You really thought a lot about this, haven’t you?” and your fingers brush his, slowly intertwining with his as you bridge the gap, “I really appreciate it,” 

He bites his lip, eyes sliding sideways, as he does, before he’s tilting his head again, “I just don’t want you rush into anything, and I don’t want us to still feel like—” 

“Just friends I know,” you smile, “well then why don’t we leave it here for tonight, but call me when you get home?” He slowly nods, but he still isn’t leaving, “Yuta?” 

And he steps a little closer, your breath catches, stuck in your lungs, as your chest squeezes when his fingers find your cheek, “Can I kiss you?” And your answer comes before you know it as you nod wordlessly. 

His lips curl into a smile, as he leans closer and your noses bump, a small chuckle escaping your lips before his lips find yours. 

It’s chaste, at first, until his lips find yours in a firmer kiss. He tastes faintly of the salt and butter of the popcorn he just had, and you can feel him smile against your lips, before you both part. 

Your lips curl, “Well that is definitely something I never do with a friend,” 

“You sure?” He murmurs and you hum, as your foreheads press against the other’s, as your fingers intertwine and you tug him inside your apartment. 

“Maybe just the ones I really like.” 

~~~

“You look happy,” Maki notes, as Yuta shows up early to work on a project for student government — it had been a few days since their first date, and Yuta had just gotten a text from you asking if he was coming over tonight. His lips quirked upwards as he told you he’d be there after he finished his work, as his eyes flitted up to find Maki’s, “don’t tell me you actually got the balls to ask her—“ and his eyes won’t quite meet her own, a smile on his lips, “fuck, don’t tell me—” 

“We had our third date last night—” and he earns himself a hard punch to his shoulder, as he jolts, staring at Maki, “ow! Why—” 

“Three dates and you tell me now?” and Yuta’s rubbing his shoulder, as he frowns, “what’s with the face? My punch didn’t hurt that bad,” she takes a seat, and leans back in her chair, as she rifles through the paperwork, 

He shakes his head, “I wasn’t sure if I should be going around telling people — it’s new—” 

“Wouldn’t you be happy to talk about your relationship?” And he’s hesitating, and Maki’s chair legs clack against the floor as she leans forward again, “what are you so scared of still?” 

What was it that he was scared of? That it wouldn’t work out? That he’d lose you before he had even truly had you? That he’d hurt you? And it was true, he was scared of all of those things, but it wasn’t those things holding him back— 

“I saw the way she talked about her ex, the smile she had when she would come off talking about him,” he leans against his hand, elbow propped up on the table, “she always had this smile on her face — just this look that I don’t think I’ve ever seen her have with me—“ 

“A look doesn’t make or break a relationship, Okkotsu,” Maki says with a sigh, “and she was already in that relationship for who knows how long at that point?”

“I know, but—“ 

“I can’t tell you how to run your relationship but you have to decide whether you’re in this or not — because if you keep comparing yourself, you’ll never be happy,” and Yuta nods, before glancing at her, “what?” 

“How do you know so much about this?” Maki crosses her arms, a slight blush on her cheeks. 

“You’re not the only one with a social life—“ but she cuts him off before he can ask more questions, “but this is about you, not me,” she leans forward, “you need to focus on your relationship now, not her old one,” 

And he nods — he needed to trust you, otherwise this would never work with his head stuck in the past or looking into the future. Otherwise, this insecurity would seep like poison into his present — and he would lose you anyway. 

“You’re right, thanks Maki,” and his phone goes off again, another text from you — I miss you — come soon. 

Maybe he just needed to trust you — and himself. But even so, as he typed his reply to you — I’ll pick up dinner on the way. I’ll be back soon. Promise — but why was it so difficult? 

~~~ 

“Ah, Yu,” you murmured against his lips before swallowing your words completely, you were even prettier breathless than he had imagined. Well, more like than he had dreamt. He had resisted the urge to fantasize about you, thinking it would be disrespectful, crossing a line that wasn’t meant to be crossed. But that didn’t mean he could control his subconscious when he would slip into the embrace of sleep. 

He’d see you beside him on the couch, and you’d lean over and simply find his lips as if you’d done it a million times before. And he’d melt into your touch with such practiced ease, his fingers skimming over your sides, and he was desperate for more, more, more. He would only slide his hands up your thighs, fingertips brushing against the fabric of your panties before he’d wake in sweat soaked sheets and his cock straining against his boxers. 

This was so much better. 

It had started on the couch just like his dream, the two of you lying together, cuddling on the couch as the two of you half watched a movie. 

“Are you sleepy?” He asked softly, tucking a strand behind your ear, and you shake your head, as you shift closer to him, half of your body pressed against him. He did his best not to shift much, as you move even closer to him, nearly lying on top of him, “what—“ 

His breath catches as you lean closer, “can I—“ and he’s nodded without a second thought, as your lips found his, and his fingers found your hips. His tongue grazed the seam of your lips before slipping inside, and he eagerly steals your breath from your very lungs. And you’re moving, now lying squarely on top of him, your hips pressed against his, as his already hard cock throbs against your cunt. 

He bites back a moan when he feels just how wet you already are, soaking through your shorts and drenching  his sweatpants, “Fuck,” he murmurs, as your lips both part for a breath, as he cups your chin, only to press hot kisses to your burning skin, “baby, you taste so good,” 

And that’s where he found himself now. 

Your tiny gasps and murmurs of his name, as his lips explored what skin he could reach, while his hands slid up and down your body, now warm palms resting above your hips, toying with the hem of your shirt. 

“Yuta, please,” the whine in your throat makes the heat grow thicker been you two, the movie fading into but white noise, as he cards his fingers through your hair, “don’t tease me,” 

And he’s swallowing thickly, his dick twitching at the thought of taking this further — the two of you had done everything but this step, your hands had grazed under the other’s clothes, grinded against each other as you made out, but one of you would end up stopping it for one reason or another. It was a game of chicken, one or the other seemingly daring the other to take that step — but neither of you had. 

But now — as his thumb dragged over your puffy, kiss ruined lips, “Do you want to?” he asks an unspoken question, his resistance weakening to your touches, your fingers ghosting up his chest before one of your hands finds his cheek. 

“I do,” you answer, but bite your lip, “I’m just…a little nervous,” and his lips press a sweet kiss to your forehead. 

“We can always wait — I never want to make you feel uncomfortable, baby,” he’s featherlight in his touches now, “it’s up to you,” and it was — he would wait for you, as long as you wanted him. 

You smile at him, finding his lips in another kiss — he didn’t know it was possible for someone to be this soft, or feel this good — he could taste the sweetness of ice cream you had ate earlier on your lips, but you were so much better than any dessert. 

Your fingers rake gently through his hair, “Let’s move to the bedroom?” 

~~~

You wanted Yuta — you did. You had for the weeks the two of you had dated. It had been almost two months, and the two of you hadn’t had sex yet. There wasn’t a reason to rush, but there wasn’t a reason not to. The line had been edged to the brink of insanity — for the both of you. There was always seemingly a reason to stop — an early class, a late night, stomach upset — and it always felt like timing was just off. But it wasn’t always just the timing. 

It was also you. 

Every time you and Yuta got close, each time you felt even an ounce of pleasure, the guilt of Suguru would claw up your throat, again and again. And you were sure Yuta had noticed. But even if he had, you didn’t know a way to explain without making him think you were still in love with Suguru — which you weren’t. 

You didn’t think you were. The guilt lingered, like blood dried from a still open wound, scabbed over but not healed, easily reopened with even a scratch or a step. And it felt like with each step you took away from Suguru, you bled more and more — but you didn’t know how to stop the bleeding. You couldn’t stem the bleeding at its source, not when the person you had cut it open didn’t even give you a chance to speak. 

And you couldn’t talk to Yuta about it — not when you still hadn’t explained who Suguru is — and what exactly he does for work. Or much of anything else and you didn’t even know how to begin that conversation or why it would be necessary. Does he need to know all of that when you would be graduating soon enough and Suguru would be only a distant memory. 

But you hoped Yuta wouldn’t be. 

Your fingers laced with his as you led him to your bedroom — as you pull him inside, shutting the door behind you. You gently guide him onto your bed and have him sit while you stand, your fingers cupping his face, as his breath hitches at your proximity. His lips parted ever so slightly, as a pretty pink settled over his cheeks. 

“Baby, are you sure?” His lips are half twisting in a frown, eyes flickering from your eyes to your lips and back again, “I don’t want—“ 

And your lips find his in a soft kiss, pressing yourself between his legs, as your hands find purchase on his shoulders, “I want you, Yuta,” you murmur, you were tired of letting the past dictate your present — you wanted to move forward, “don’t you want me too?” And your lips ghost over his jaw up to his ear, as you whisper in it, while leaving kisses that make his body shiver, wondering if you’ve turned his blood to ice or made it turn to steam with how his skin burned. 

“You’re not playing fair” he mumbles, as he buries your face in the crook of your neck, and you laugh, your fingers skimming the back of his neck. 

“I’m here to win, we never said anything about fair,” you twirl the black locks resting against his neck, your lips press another kiss to his cheekbone, “you still haven’t answered my question—“

 “Of course I want you,” he looks up at you, his need like a spark catching fire on your body, “I always have,”

“Well I’m right here,” you murmur, you tilt his chin up, fingers threaded in his black locks, “what are you going to do about it?” 

~~~

Yuta was going to lose his mind — but it’s just as well, you already had his heart. 

At your words, he’s tugging you even closer as he moves back on the bed, gaze hot as he watches you move, sitting on his lap — knees on either side of his waist. Fuck, you felt so good against him, plush thighs pressing into his hands already sliding down your lower back and grazing your ass to press you impossibly closer. 

“Good boy,” you murmur, and his blood flees his cheeks to his cock, twitching against your clothed cunt, and you smirk, a giggle escaping your lips, “you like that, huh?” you breath against his ear, “my good boy,” 

And in an instant, you’re pinned under him, and you’re blinking up at him, smile exchanged for parted lips, as his hands slide up your sides, and he’s leaning down to kiss you. His mouth burns against yours, tongue teasing the seam of your lips, before they part for him. 

“Now who’s being good for who?” he murmurs, as he pulls back with your teeth catching his bottom lip between your teeth. He groans, grinding against you, the length of his cock grinding against your clothed slit, “you won't let me have a moment, can you?” He murmurs, a red flush on his cheeks that makes you grin. 

“Not as long as you’re with me, Yu,” and god, that nickname for him makes his head spin— it’s already so much — the picture of you spread so prettily for him, your thighs parted under him, shirt riding up, just asking for him to slide underneath, and your bodies pressed together in all of the right places, as if neither of you could get close enough. 

And apparently you couldn’t, as you guide his hands to the hem of your shirt, and you’re helping him pull it over your head before tossing it onto the floor. And he sees nothing underneath, your nipples pebbled and hard under his gaze, so pretty for him. 

When his fingers twitch, you chuckle, “touch me,” and your words melt away his reservations, as his hands find your breasts, warm palms squeezing and teasing the soft flesh. He leans down and presses a kiss to one of your pert nipples, his tongue flicking the pert bud, drawing a small gasp from your lips, a pretty noise he wants to make fall from your lips again and again. Your head falls back into your pillow, as he switches sides, teasing the one with his lips, while he rolls the other between his index and thumb. 

“Fuck, Yuta,” he smiles against you, as his lips begin to kiss down your body, starting with the valley of your breasts before trailing wet kisses down your stomach, until he reaches the waistband of your shorts. And his eyes are flicking up to meet yours to ask silently, and your nod is all it takes for his fingers to dip in and tug the thin fabric down your legs, fingers dragging along the dips and curves of your legs as he does. He bends down to steal kisses to your swell of your hips and the crown of your knee. 

“S’pretty,” he’s mumbling, as his eyes find the wet patch on your underwear, fabric messy and soaked through as it cling helplessly to your hard clit, “how are you this pretty, baby?” 

“All for you, sweet boy,” you’re murmuring, as you hiss when he’s teasing your clit through your panties, “Yu, fuck—“ he could cum just listening to you — he doesn’t know what he’ll do once he’s inside you—

But one step at a time. 

He’s leaning down to press a kiss to it, before he’s slipping two fingers into the elastic to tug it down, with a nod from you. He’s pressing kisses and nips to your inner thigh, relishing in the marks he leaves on you — ones that he and you would only see. And finally you’ve kicked your underwear off, fully bare for him. 

“How do you smell so sweet?” he’s whispering, as his eyes drag over your exposed folds, and a whimper escapes your lips, he can’t wait to make you moan. And he’s bending down to drag his tongue over your dripping cunt, a thick stripe that has you gasping, fingers winding their way into his black locks, nails digging deliciously into his scalp. 

And you taste even better than he imagined — so good that he's already lapping at your folds, tip of his tongue flicking over your clit — and he hears the wrinkle of the sheets as your toes curl into them. He’s rutting into your mattress, ready to cum in his boxers at how good your pussy feels — dick nearly bursting at the thought of having your cunt around him. 

“Fuck, baby,” you’re swearing under your breath, as your body tenses under his tongue, he begins to slurp at your juices. His hands find their way under the soft flesh of your thighs to tug you flush to his lips, “Yu, so good,” and all he can hear are the lewd sounds of his tongue buried in your pussy, working your walls open, pretty walls fluttering around him, “feel so good, ngh, ah—” your eyes find his, and it’s enough for him to blow his load then and there — eyes blown out with lust as they meet his own, your lips parted in lovely pants and moans. 

And he knows you’re close, can feel it in the way your walls shudder, and he’s burying himself in your cunt, fucking you open with his tongue while he rubs your clit in quick circles. 

“Yu, I’m cum—“ and you cut yourself off with a moan, back arching as you cum hard, his name on your lips, and he’s eating you out through your orgasm, greedily drinking every bit of release you give him. And it’s only when it’s too much, your body slightly shaking, as you gently pull at his hair, that he eases off. 

You watch him with half lidded eyes as he pulls away, still between your thighs — lips and chin glossy and drenched in your release. He licks his lips and chin clean, watching you come down from your high, fuck, the way your walls clench around nothing makes him want to bury his face back in your folds. 

“So good, Yu, s’good for me,” you’re panting, sweat slicked against your skin, as you’re gently tugging at him, and he obliges, keening at the praise as he slips up your body until your lips find his. You moan, tasting yourself on his lips, a sloppy, messy kiss that leaves him breathless. 

And you’re flipping you both over, his eyes dilating at the sight of you, eyes raking over his body, eager hands thumbing at the hem of his shirt. 

Your lips in a smirk that leaves his dick throbbing, “my turn, Yu, let me make you feel good,”your hands make quick work of his shirt, tugging it up and over, tossing it in the growing pile of clothes in the corner of your bedroom. 

Your lips press sweet kisses all over his chest, fingers teasing his chest, but you have bigger intentions in mind, as your fingers quickly find their way to the waistband of his sweatpants. And with a nod given, you’re deftly tugging it down with a raise of his hips to pull the fabric off and kicked away, leaving him only in his boxers. 

You bite your lip when you see the large wet patch from his pre, your fingers teasing his slit through the fabric, drawing a hiss from his lips. He swallows, watching your pretty lips bend down to press a kiss to his cock through the fabric. And it’s enough for him to lose his mind completely, “please,” he whimpers, and you smile down at him, dragging your thumb down his lips. 

“Please what?” you ask innocently, for someone whose fingers were grazing his erection the way they were, he swallows as he watches your finger trace up and down his clothes cock, “what do you want me to use? My hand? My mouth?” 

And he’s shaking his head, “Anything, just please I need—“ and your fingers dip into the elastic of his boxers, snapping it against his skin, a yelp escaping his lips that makes you giggle, “that’s not nice—“ and he’s gasping when your lips press a hot kiss to his hip, your eyes lidded with desire. 

“Who said I was nice?” 

~~~

You were going to be the death of him, and with the way your fingers tug down his boxers — finally freeing his cock, slapping against his stomach as it does — it would be a sweet death. 

“Didn’t know your cock was so pretty like the rest of you, Yu,” and it was, so long and thick, pearly precum dripping down his flushed length, veins that ran up and down the length that you were far too eager to trace, “can’t wait to taste you,” you’re murmuring, as your tongue flicks down against his slit. 

“B-baby, please,” his hand is covering his face, but you reach up to pry it away, seeing the lovely red that settled over his cheeks, lips parted in need as he painted, “please—“ 

And your fingers wrap around his dick, thumbing the slit and working the precum up and down his length. And he’s moaning your name on his lips again and again, as you kiss his tip sliding your fingers down to his base and squeezing. And when your lips part for him, sliding his length in your mouth, his head falls back against the pillows, eyes squeezed shut as he can’t help but roll his hips into your mouth. And when his tip brushes the back of your throat, it’s enough for him to cum right then and there, but he doesn’t want to — not yet, not until he’s inside you. 

He’s easing you off, watching strings of pre and your spit connect you to his aching cock, as you look up at him, and he’s pulling you into a messy kiss, tasting his own pre on your lips. 

“I need you,” he’s murmuring, fingers finding your hips, “baby, please,” 

You smile, parting from him, “how do you need me?” And he’s swallowing, cock twitching, and he knows he’s one stroke too fast from bursting — so he needs control. 

“Lie on the bed, baby,” and you do, easing from between his legs, and onto your back, head against the plush pillows. He parts your legs for you, warm palms squeezing your flesh teasingly, drawing a whine from you, he presses your thighs up, letting them hook around his back, as his skin meets yours. And god, you’re perfect, “how did I get so lucky? You’re so perfect, so pretty,” and he’s slotting himself between your thighs, fingers lining up his cock with your dripping slit, his curiosity getting the better of him as he drags the head up your messy folds still slick with your release, and groans as he watches your walls flutter around nothing, “so good for me, are you ready, baby?” 

You’re nodding, “please Yu, I need—” and his tip is sliding into you, his length stretching your walls far too well, and it’s enough for him to cum right there — as your cunt adjusts to his size, dragging against you as he pushes past your entrance. It’s enough for him to cum right there, but he wants it to be good for you both — wants you to hear you praise him again, wants to hear you say his name again and again until you fall apart on his cock. 

And finally he’s bottoming out, a moan from both of your lips, your walls fluttered around his length, your head lolls back a moment, before your eyes flutter open and meet his, “S’good, Yu, please, move,” and he’s cupping your cheek, pressing a sweet kiss to your lips, before he begins to fuck you slowly. 

The echoes of your skin meeting his rings in hie ears, needy walls pulling you back in even as he tried to pull out, sinking deeper and deeper each time he fucked you. 

He’s burning, ready to melt at your very touch, putty in your hands to bend and shape at your will, even as you swallow him whole, he’s ready for you to consume every inch of him with your being. 

“Feels s’good, Yuta,” you’re moaning, legs around his hips pulling him impossibly closer, “such a good boy,” and his cock twitches, your mixed releases forming a ring around the base of his length, “s’good, need more,” 

And he’s groaning, as your wet squelches fill the silence between both of your moans and pants — and you’re close, as he gives a particularly deep thrust that finds the spot that has you seeing stars. Your head falls back, lips parted in his name, “Yu, I’m close — ngh, please—“ and he’s smiling, his cheeks surely flushed blood red, panting, as he reaches between your bodies to find your clit. 

“Cum f’me, baby,” he’s murmuring, and you’re nodding, as you fall apart for him, toes curling as you cum hard around him, making him groan your name as he spills his warm seed inside you, pumping slowly as he does. His body slows as you both come down from your highs, and he slowly rolls off of you, running fingers through your hair and pressing sweet kisses, “are you okay?” he murmurs, eyes soft with affection, but laced with concern. 

You smile, “I’m more than okay,” you press your face into his chest, and he’s shivering at your touch, pulling you even closer, “I’m with you,” and his fingers run up and down your cheek, before leaning down to meet your lips in a soft kiss. 

That’s right, he smiles as he kisses your forehead — he was with you. And the past didn’t matter — when he was in your present. 

“I’ll always be with you,” he mutters against your lips. 

And hopefully in your future. 

~~~

“What are you doing, I thought you were almost done,” Yuta mumbles against the soft skin of your neck, pressing sweet kisses that did nothing but sap the need for productivity from your very veins — leaving only behind thoughts of his touch behind, “baby,”

“Yu, I promise I’m almost done, I just have to send this email about my thesis and you’ll have my undivided attention,” you both had been stuck in the end of the semester rush, trying to find time for each other — leaving you stressed out and Yuta a little needy. That’s what this night was supposed to be for — a chance to reconnect, and yet here you were working. But you had to send this thesis out or you knew Yaga would have your head for delaying your work on your outline for so long — something you would be spending next semester fleshing out into a full thesis you’d be presenting. 

He nods, but continues to pepper you with kisses, your skin nearly molten under his touch as his arms wrap around your waist to pull you further into his lap instead of beside him on the couch, “After all the work I did to snag Professor Yaga as my thesis advisor, I cannot let the department head down with my draft,” 

He hums, vibrations making you nearly shiver, “I know, I’m really proud of you. I know you’re going to have something really special by the end of the year,” and you shake your head. 

“I just hope I make it past the defense — it’s the most nerve wracking part,” you sigh, “a room of my peers and professors staring me down while I discuss the work I’ve done,” you proof read the email for the millionth time — scanning for any errors and make sure the attachment is the correct attachment — and finally click send, and sigh before relaxing into his arms. 

“Can I come to your defense?” Yuta asks, perking up, and you smile, leaning back against him. 

“Are you sure you’d want to come? It’s going to be just me rambling about my thesis and answering a bunch of questions,” you kiss his jaw softly, nosing the small hickey you left blooming on his pale skin last night, “might not be the most exciting thing,” 

“I want to support you, as long as you want me there,” and you can’t help but wonder — would Suguru show up to your defense? The thought makes your stomach churn at the thought of them watching you present, eyes flitting from one to the other. You had doubts he would show himself there — but the only catch was if Yaga would twist his arm. And then what? You had nearly blown your relationship wide open once before when you had ran into Suguru in front of Yuta—

You couldn’t risk it again. 

“Let me think about it, ok?” You nuzzle your nose against his cheek, as he frowns, “I just think if I have you there, I might get too nervous—“ 

He shakes his head, “Whatever makes you comfortable, either way, we’re going to celebrate right after,” and you tilt your head. 

“What if I don’t pass?” And he shakes his head. 

“If hell freezes over, I think we’ll have bigger problems,” and you snort, “but on the very off chance you don’t, you still accomplished something incredible—“ and your lips find his, and he melts into your kiss after a moment. 

“Thank you,” you whisper, “I’m so lucky to have you,” and he curls his lips into a sweet smile. 

“I’m the lucky one,” and his lips press against yours this time, meeting yours again and again, until you’re placing your laptop aside, and turning to sit in his lap, “baby,” heat rolls off his body in waves, as your fingers trace down his chest. 

“I heard someone wanted my undivided attention tonight,” you smile, before taking your phone and placing it on ‘do not disturb,’ “well now what are you going to do with it?” 

He smiles, “Don’t know if we’ll have enough time for everything, but,” he presses a kiss to your jaw, “we can try,” and the two of you are making your way to the bedroom soon enough, unaware that you had gotten an important email that night—

From: Suguru Geto 

Subject Line: Regarding Your Thesis Advisor

~~~

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you’re adjusting your hair as you sprint your way to Professor Yaga’s office. This is what you get for staying up far too late with your far too tempting boyfriend. And now you woke up thirty minutes before the meeting, with barely enough time to make it on time, much less breath. Yuta gave you a kiss goodbye, but that’s all he had time for — before you were out the door. 

But you finally reached Yaga’s door, catching your breath when you took a second to regain your composure before knocking. You blinked — weird, his door was usually open. And the door opens, but it isn’t Yaga—

It’s Suguru? 

It’s Suguru. 

You stare at him, wondering if this is another twisted nightmare you had ensnared yourself in, but no — it isn’t. Because even your subconscious couldn’t make a scenario this twisted. His lips parted to say something, but you beat him to it. 

“If you’re meeting with Professor Yaga, I can come back at a different time, Professor,” the title slips from your lips without barely a thought, but it carries far too much weight. A flicker of emotion catches on the corner of his lips and in the glint of his eyes, but it’s gone as quickly as it came. 

“You’re on time, but I still you did not have the time to check your email before this meeting,” he tilts his head, as you blink slowly, “please come in and have a seat,” 

And you do, taking a seat across from him as he sits on the other side of the desk, you shift in your seat, as you take him in for the first time in months — his hair was still long, black tresses brushing against his shoulders, hair half up in a neat bun near the crown of his head; his eyes tucked behind his glasses for once, but you could see the burgeoning beginnings of dark bags under his eyes; and his clothes were meticulous as always — and you spot the tie pin he has — it’s the one you had gifted him near the beginning of your relationship — a joke that you had made about pinning him down in class turned into a gift. 

And that makes your neck feel all the more bare. 

“Is Professor Yaga ok?” and Suguru sighs, running his fingers through his hair. 

“He’s fine, he is sick at the moment — and receiving treatment,” you sigh in slight relief, “so he’s decided to take the rest of this semester off, as well as next semester,” and you sigh, leaning back as you cover your lips with your hand. 

“Is he going to be—” 

“He has a good prognosis, and his son’s with him, looking after him, so it should be fine,” he says softly, and his lips curl in a small smile, as he flips through the papers on Yaga’s desk. 

“What’s with the smile?” and he shakes his head, as he rifles through the stacks of paperwork, until he seemingly finds what he’s looking for. 

“Nothing, just noticing that your habit of worrying about others before yourself hasn’t changed,” and you glare slightly at him, pursing your lips, as he slides a stapled stack of papers to you. 

“And what’s this—” 

“Your thesis proposal,” and you take it, flipping through and grimacing at the red pen, “and my thoughts on it,” you scoff, as you see the familiar picture of his scribbles and notes in the margins of your work. 

“It looks like old habits die hard for the both of us,” as you finish flipping through, but your brow knits together as the pieces of news start to fit together like a puzzle — with a very mortifying picture, and your eyes meet his, slowly — the news going as well over as a lead balloon, and crashing down on your head like one, “so does this mean—” 

His lips curl in a small smile, “I’ll be taking over as your thesis advisor — for the rest of the year.” 

✧ a/n: it was supposed to be the last part and now! we have. one more part since i decided i wanted to flesh out the final arc a little more! one more part of this and it will be all done...:)

✧ taglist: @hatsunemitskislobotomy , @difficultdomains , @diogodxlot , @that-goth-bisexual , @dazailover1900 0, @aliyalala , @ashhlsstuff , @blue041803 , @mwtsxri i , @bblgumfairy , @sukunasleftkneecap , @xo-evangeline , @fiannee , @teatreeoilll , @chalametet , @ryukaver , @d1gitalbathh , @saga3ious , @seventhcinema , @satosugucide , @your-l0nely-star , @sokkasmoon , @deegausserr , @hyookka , @oggsyy , @littlebitb , @higuchislut , @ti-mame , @itoshisins , @cerene-dipity , @onionsoop , @sinlillith , @izzythenaive , @lalacute03 , @rxndou , @c-themoon , @xxrag-d0llxx , @hqtoge , @sugarxlumps , @hopeluna , @actualdeemon , @enchantedpendant , @serendididy , @soulstealercat , @neuviloved , @simply-a-s1mp , @satorusmochis , @maddietries

#sab [mlist] #sab series [prof suguru] #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto smut #suguru geto x you #geto x reader #suguru geto fanfiction #yuta okkotsu x reader #yuta okkotsu x you #yuta okkotsu fanfiction #geto suguru x reader #yuta okkotsu smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction

[gimmeurtmi]

kinktober day five — hyunjin

pairing: hwang hyunjin x fem!reader

tags: friends to lovers (kinda), kinktober series, smut!!!🔞

warnings: swearing, nude drawings, fingering, masturbation, use of “pretty”, lmk if i forgot anything!

inspo: uni student hyunjin but make it art

kink: exhibitionism

{ wc: 2522 }

It was a strange thing to be offered, but it was also flattering to be seen as a suitable candidate. The art department had reached out to a number of students to act as models for their sketch class—and you were one of them. It probably helped that your best friend, Hyunjin, was taking that class and you were sure he was the one to mention your name first.

He had asked you a few times to model for him and the only time you said yes was when you found a thrilling show to watch while you modelled; it was easier to stay still with your mind so occupied.

So you said yes.

And only then did the teacher tell you there was a catch.

“Nude?” You all but screamed.

“I know you and Mr. Hwang are close so I can pair you two together—but if you’re more comfortable modelling for a female student that’s fine too. Either way, you won’t be able to participate until you sign the forms.”

You looked at the consent forms in your hand, mulling it over for a few moments still. Modelling for a girl would be more comfortable, but you didn’t know anyone that took Art and being naked in front of a stranger was far more nerve wracking to you.

You called Hyunjin right away. He assured you he’d make sure you’re comfortable and that you didn’t have to agree at all and that he would buy you lunch for a week. He needed a good score on this assignment and he, too, didn’t feel all that comfortable sketching a stranger under those circumstances.

So you signed the forms.

*

You decided to use your room for the assignment, for privacy reasons and to help you feel more at ease. Nothing could be too scary with your supportive plushies in the same room as you.

Hyunjin walked in with his iced Americano (a second one for you, too) and started setting up his station.

He put all his pens and pencils in order, three huge erasers, two sharpeners, and his giant sketchbook. It was so big you guessed the sketch would end up being life sized.

As he set everything up, you fiddled nervously with the string of your robe. It was just your bathrobe, nothing too special, but the whole situation made your heart race and there was sweat gathering on your forehead.

You weren’t so sure if you could do this after all.

“Hyune,” you start, “does it have to be completely nude?”

He looked up at you from where he was straightening his pencils, eyes boring into you. You swallowed.

“Those are the requirements,” he caught his bottom lip between his teeth before he adds, “do you wanna put on some underwear as a warm-up?”

“Do you need sketches of me in my underwear?” You purse your lips.

“Not really,” he says, bashfully, “but if it’ll be an easier start for you?”

You inhale deeply. Untie your bathrobe. Exhale.

You let the fabric fall off your shoulders, pooling at your feet, before you settle on your bed.

Hyunjin nods at you with a small smile, encouraging.

“You got this,” he tries, putting a fist up in the air in solidarity.

“Can I put on a podcast so I don’t get bored?” You say, conscious to not move your legs too far apart.

“Sure, it’ll probably take me a while,” he chuckles, “I need to do like five.”

“Oh, dear god,” you roll your eyes and Hyunjin laughs at you. The nerves you were feeling have all disappeared already—it actually isn’t too weird being naked in front of him.

He’s your closest friend, has seen you being sick after drinking too much, has seen all your embarrassing childhood photos, has seen you with bed head and delirious from no sleep. He’s seen it all—so it shouldn’t be too weird for him to see your tits, too.

Hyunjin directs your poses, the first one casual as you lay on your back. He’s only sketching your upper body, he says, from the neck to your bellybutton, so he lets you cover up your bottom half with a blanket so you aren’t too cold. The first pose is fun since you don’t have to do anything too strenuous.

Once he flips the page on his sketchbook to a new one he changes your pose. This time your profile is facing him, the leg closer to him bent to hide most of your body. You don’t get the privilege of warmth this time, and your butt starts hurting after ten minutes in this position. But you focus on the podcast that’s still playing in the background instead, trying to be a good model for Hyunjin.

For the third pose he gets up and moves the table to the very edge of your bed. You look at him questioningly as he does so, before you let out a small, “why?”

“It’s just that, well, I need a close up,” he whispered the last part, eyes focused on rearranging his pencils neatly.

“Of….?” You think you know the answer.

“Of you,” he says, pointedly, and so you understand.

You can’t help but think he was going too easy on you until now, that this was the real assignment and he didn’t want to scare you away. And perhaps it worked, because the thought of Hyunjin staring at your pussy with that amount of concentration doesn’t scare you as much as it would’ve twenty minutes ago.

It actually… excites you. You feel a tingle all around your stomach, and your heartbeat feels louder all of a sudden.

It was one thing to just be naked in front of Hyunjin, but having him look right at you, with his face frowned in concentration made your core flutter.

You nod timidly at Hyunjin’s questioning look before he smiles. He sits back down on his chair, grabbing his pencil, and getting to the task at hand.

You feel yourself getting wet at the amount of attention he’s giving your body—even if it’s just with his eyes—and you hope he doesn’t notice it. But you do, and with your legs spread the way he asked them to be, you can even smell your own arousal. You hope he isn’t close enough to notice it as well, but you have a feeling that hope is futile. He can definitely tell.

“I read a lot about this once we were given the assignment,” he starts, focusing solely on his sketchbook as he talks, “and sometimes models feel.. you know. So don’t be embarrassed.”

“I’m…” you wanted to defend yourself, because you weren’t even that embarrassed. Just surprisingly turned on. “Okay.”

“It would be more embarrassing for you if you were a guy, guys can’t hide it,” he says, as if to make you feel better.

“I don’t think I can hide anything from you right now,” you scoff at him. Hyunjin giggles in response.

He lets another five minutes or so go by before he takes a look at his drawing. You can’t be too sure because you’ve never seen yourself so close before but it looks like a good sketch. A really good one. You’re flattered at the attention to detail and it doesn’t make you feel shy anymore. You’re almost proud.

“When I was reading,” he coughs, “there was someone who said it’s nicer to sketch those body parts after.. a.. well,”

“You’ve just stared at my vagina for twenty minutes straight, Hyune, surely you can get some words out.”

He looks up at you, eyes round and glossy. His plush bottom lip is slightly red from where he’s been sucking on it as he draws.

“Female genitalia is a beautiful subject to draw after the model has experienced sexual gratification.”

You burst out laughing. “Who talks like that?”

“That’s a direct quote from the article!” He defends.

“So you want me to sexually gratify myself?”

He blushes deeply at that, shaking his hands quickly. “Not if that’s weird! Just if you wanted to. I have enough to probably pass I was just curious if she was right about it and—“

The words die on his tongue when you bring your hand between your legs. Your actions are fuelled by a strange bravery you aren’t familiar with, and the insane amount of arousel that’s coursing through you.

He quickly gets up, turning his eyes away from you.

“Wait, I can leave and you can call me back in when you’re d—“

“—don’t,” you say, running your fingers up and down your wetness, “maybe you can draw the process, too?”

His eyes go wide, so wide he almost looks like a cartoon, before he’s fumbling around to find the chair again. He sits down, quickly grabbing his pencils but they all fall onto the floor in his clumsy urge to get drawing right away.

He recovers them quickly, setting them aside but not at all bothering to arrange them in his neat order like before.

“Yeah, good idea,” he finally says, trying his best to look and draw and breathe at the same time.

He doesn’t have time to draw you teasing yourself before you slip two of your fingers inside you.

The sight is so pretty, so beautiful, and Hyunjin freezes for a moment. He blinks once then twice before he quickly starts putting pencil to paper and sketching out the sight before him.

He knows he won’t be able to do any of it justice but he has to try.

“Can you, move a little less?” He asks after a moment or two.

“I won’t reach sexual gratification if I don’t move,” you explain with a chuckle. If you’re honest, having Hyunjin watching you touch yourself might be enough to get you to cum without much movement at all—but you aren’t sure he should know about all that.

“Yeah, but it’s fucking beautiful and I want to get the details right,” he says.

You exhale lightly at that, trying not to react too much to what he just said. You aren’t sure if he can see you clench around your own fingers or not, but you nod in agreement.

“Pull them out a little bit, just so I can see better,” he directs, so simply, as if he isn’t talking about your fingers deep inside your cunt.

You follow his directions dutifully, as you’ve done all afternoon.

It’s just half of your fingers now, which isn’t much, but you can still feel the stretch. Still, with no friction available to you it makes you needy. So needy.

You want to move your fingers more, you want Hyunjin to watch you do more.

“Hyune,” you say, softly.

“Yeah?” He asks, still concentrating on his task.

“Wanna move now,”

“Just a few final details, okay?” He adds in a whisper, “you’re so beautiful,”

“Hyunjin, please,” you let out, because his compliment isn’t helping your patience at all.

“Would it help if you moved for a bit and then went back to the same pose?” He offers, eyes swimming in sympathy.

“It would, yes,” you nod quickly.

“Go on, then, just for a bit,” he smiles, supportive, before his gaze goes back to his sketch. He takes an eraser, fixing up a few details in an attempt to give you some privacy. But you don’t want that at all.

“Hyunie,” you whine out, and his head snaps up in a second. “It’s no fun if you look away.”

“I, I’m trying not to,” his eyes jump between your face and your exposed pussy, then back to the page. “You should have some privacy.”

“Don’t want it,” you say quickly, fingers moving slowly in and out as he gives you a bit more attention, “want you to see this.”

“I wanna see it too,” he says quietly, “it’s so beautiful.”

“Then look at me,” your fingers move quicker now, your palm resting against your clit and applying just the right amount of pressure, “watch me fuck myself.”

“Fuck,” Hyunjin all but moans, head falling backwards before he quickly zeros in on your cunt.

You let your eyes scan down to his crotch, see the bulge he’s so clearly been trying to hide.

“Come here,” you ask him, patting the space next to you, “want you to really see me.”

Hyunjin almost flips the table over and runs to you, but instead he just trips over one of the legs, letting all the pencils fall again, before he’s climbing onto the bed.

He settles right in front of you, his knee touching your ankle, and lets himself fully gape at the sight in front of him.

“I looked through a lot of portraits you know,” he starts softly, his voice lower than usual, “and I think your pussy is the prettiest one.”

“Maybe it has something to do with the artist,” you smirk at him, mostly to try and hide how much you like him complimenting you.

“Not my sketch,” he’s quick to correct you, “the one here.”

As he says it, he brings his big hand on top of yours, pushing against your hand until your fingers go as deep as they can.

You moan loudly at that, jaw hanging open.

“That’s what you wanted, deep,” he confirmed to himself, looking at your knuckles disappearing into you. “Looks so nice like this, too.”

He grabs your wrist, lifting and pushing your hand in an impossible pace. Your fingers are sore from it after only a few seconds, but Hyunjin’s beautiful face is looking right at you and so you don’t do anything but moan.

“So pretty like this, too,” he says, slightly strained.

You grip his bicep, needing something to ground you as the pleasure starts building and building. It’s much more solid than he lets on, his arms big and strong and his grip on your hand tightening as your whines grow higher and higher until— “I’m gonna…”

“Want me to see it? Should I watch as you cum all over your fingers, pretty?”

And that’s all it takes for it to hit you at full force, your eyes shutting tightly as the pleasure takes over.

Hyunjin giggles at you, small dimples appearing by his cheeks as he averts his gaze away from you. He’s so beautiful even with his head turned away, looking for something.

He quickly finds it and grabs the tissues by your bed to hand you one. You quickly clean off your fingers as you giggle.

“Should you get back to drawing now?” You ask, breathless.

“Yes,” he nods, getting up with a very obvious tent in his pants. He adjusts himself as discreetly as he can, but a sense of pride takes over you knowing you’ve made him hard in the first place.

He gathers the pencils off the floor.

“Next I think I wanna draw your face when you cum, it’s really fucking gorgeous,” he says offhanded as he sketched out the outline of your cunt.

“I’ll have to cum again, no?” You mumble.

“That can be arranged,” he doesn’t even look up.

Your breathe catches in your throat.

#hwang hyunjin x reader #hyunjin x you #hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin smut #hyunjin smut #skz smut #skz x reader #skz x you #stray kids x reader #hwang hyunjin fic #hyunjin x y/n #hwang hyunjin x you #stray kids smut #kinktober #kpop x reader #kpop smut #kpop imagines #stray kids kinktober #kinktober23 #all.works

[sttoru]

your lover would do anything to have your attention on him and nothing or no one else. even if that meant competing with a stuffed toy.

☀︎｜tags. older bf!gojo satoru x female reader. fluff, teeny tiny bit suggestive. implied age gap (reader early 20’s, satoru early 30’s). just satoru being a manchild honestly. reader gets called ‘pretty, princess, baby.’ little dumb drabble that is not beta read.

you were cuddling up to your plushie under a pile of blankets, protecting yourself from the almost freezing temperatures outside of your apartment. the television is playing your favorite show, your food is set on the coffee table and your lovely boyfriend is. . . taking pictures of you.

“come on — look at the camera, pretty girl!” satoru coos. he was blocking your view of the screen, indirectly forcing you to follow his instructions. the older man visibly melts the moment you actually do gaze up at him; his eyes soften and his smile brightens, “there y’go. so adorable.”

he snaps a couple pictures from different angles and even one from up close. his big hand cups both of your cheeks, squeezing them together and forcing your mouth into a deformed ‘o’ shape. the way you look up at him through your eyelashes was the cherry on top.

“have i ever told you how beautiful you are, princess?” satoru sighs as he takes one last picture. he puts his phone down and settles next to you on the couch.

you chuckle and instantly rest your head on his shoulder. he sneaks a hand under the blankets and rests it on the exposed skin of your hip, causing you to shiver from the contrast between your body temperatures, “you remind me of it every day.”

satoru huffs—a grin tugging at the corners of his lips. he’s holding back the urges to nibble on your cheek. you’re just so adorable to him; it’s hard to control the cute aggression he experiences whenever you’re around him.

“yeah, well, as i should.” your clingy boyfriend says matter-of-factly. you roll your eyes and scoot over to the other side of the couch, moving away from satoru in fear of him possibly stealing your blankets. he was known as the ‘blanket hogger’ in your relationship after all.

satoru frowns in response and childishly puts his hands on his hips, looking at you like you had just betrayed his trust. you stick your tongue out and continue watching your favorite show—snuggled up to the fluffy blankets and stuffed toy instead of your man.

“can’t believe i got replaced by some blankets and a dumb plushie.” satoru whines. he sighs dramatically and slumps back against the couch, crossing his arms. a pillow flies over to his side and hits him right on the head.

“it’s not dumb. that’s mean.” you glare at him with an offended expression, though were also proud of your excellent aim. you hug your hello kitty plushie to your chest and turn your body the other way. now it was your time to sulk.

little did you know that you’d still be no match to your sassy lover.

the older man falls to the side, continuing his theatrics and clutching his head, “and on top of all that, i’m portrayed as the bad guy. . . haaaah, all i wanted was to be close to my pretty girlfriend.”

that gains him another cushion to the head. satoru grunts and huffs before planning a counterattack. one that was much more direct, yet softer than your pillow attacks.

not a second passes by and your body is already getting robbed from the blankets. “hey, wait,” you click your tongue, though were physically too weak to do anything about satoru’s actions. his body crushes yours underneath him — your poor plushie squeezed between you and your lover.

his hands move quickly to wrap the covers around the both of you. satoru grins to himself as he snuggles up to you, making himself comfortable in your embrace. his face is buried against your chest and his voice is muffled as he speaks up, “oh, c’mooon. can ya blame a man for wanting to cuddle with his girl? exactly - no.”

. . . he didn’t even give you the chance to answer his question. you playfully smack the back of his head and satoru giggles. sometimes it really feels like you’re the older one in the relationship.

“fine, but she’s staying.” you give in eventually, though were demanding for your plushie to stay with you. not that satoru cared about that thing any longer: as long as he has you in his arms, he doesn’t give a damn about anything else.

the white-haired man answers with a simple hum. he even adjusts the stuffed toy so it could rest between both your bodies, patting its head with care before doing the same to you. his large hand settles on top of your head and he moves it back and forth—a gesture of affection he likes to do often.

“mm — say, baby. .” satoru yawns and rests his head back on your chest afterwards. he closes his eyes while he presses soft kisses to the swell of your breasts, “cuddling with me is way better than cuddling with your plushies, right? riiiight?”

there he goes again. you can’t help but snicker however. you grin devilishly and take time to think of a way to tease your lover, “hmmm—no, i think i’d much rather cuddle with my plushies.”

you hear that dramatic gasp and mentally prepare yourself to deal with an even whinier and clingier satoru.

#sttoru writes. #jjk x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jjk fluff #gojo x you #jjk x you #jjk x y/n #gojo x y/n #jjk fic

[kingkatsuki]

— lush

It’s no secret to Bakugou that his friends think you’re hot, but he’s never allowed them to act on it before. Until they catch him using a remote controlled vibrator on you—

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader, implied Sero Hanta x f!reader, Kaminari Denki x f!reader, Kirishima Eijirou x f!reader.

Warnings: 18+, toys, Bakugou let’s the guys control your lush vibe, dub-con (consent isn’t explicitly stated so could potentially be seen as non-con), long distance, sexting, public setting, nudes, squirting, dirty talk, the guys talk pure filth about you.

Word Count: 3.6k.

Bakugou did not want to be here, and frankly he wouldn’t have turned up at all if it hadn’t been for you. Especially when he knew what was waiting at home for him— you kissed him at the door with a promise to wait up for him when he returned home. Knowing that you’d more than likely fall asleep on the couch by the time he stepped back into the apartment, having to scoop you up into his arms and walk you into your bedroom.

This night out for Sero’s birthday had been planned weeks in advance, and rather than unwinding with him after your long day at work you practically forced him into the shower— alone no less, and made him get ready for drinks at a popular bar in central Musutafu.

Taking a sip of his cold beer as his friends talked animatedly around him in the plush booth, catching up with each other after a few weeks apart. Gathering as Pro-Heroes wasn’t as easy as his days back at U.A. Conflicting work schedules meant that it became near impossible to find the same days, or even evenings off as each other. So this was something to be savoured. Or at least, that’s what you told him as you watched him get ready. Sitting on your shared bed wearing one of his old Dynamight agency shirts and a pair of shorts while he pulled a plain black shirt out of his closet to wear tonight.

Nothing had annoyed Bakugou more than leaving you alone in your apartment to be here, the taste of your gloss still lingering on his lips as he thought about being home with you instead.

You’d made it abundantly clear what your plans were going to be tonight, pulling the little pink toy he’d bought for you out of your magic drawer (as he called it) and settling yourself on your shared bed.

“You put that in I ain’t goin’ at all, sweetheart.” He groaned, leaning against the doorframe as you shook your head with a laugh.

“You’re going,” You reached up to squeeze his cheeks together into a pout, the rough stubble on his face tickling your fingers as you pulled him down into a kiss, “I just need something after the day I’ve had. I’m probably gonna take a bath and wait for you to get home.”

“Then I’m at least controlling that shit.” He growled, pulling his cellphone out of his jeans pocket, “Give me access now.”

Maybe he’d be able to have one more drink before excusing himself early so he could get home to you and sink himself into your warm, wet cunt.

And god, you would be so fucking wet. You’d be soaked from the way his thumb continued to absentmindedly draw patterns against his phone screen. The pink cursor ascended for a few moments before dragging it back down. Picturing how you looked right now with the little toy stuffed inside your pretty pussy as you writhed on top of tussled sheets all because of him.

You[8.59PM]: Kats, stop teasing and let me cum :(((

The notification banner signaled at the top of the screen, causing Bakugou to grin. He’d been teasing you for the last hour with the toy, knowing that the settings he was using weren’t quite enough to have you coming undone for him. But just enough to have you riled up and begging for more—

Bakugou[9.00PM]: You’re the one that wanted to play these games, sweetheart.

You[9.01PM]: Yeah, but I wanna cum :((

The words had Bakugou’s cock throbbing in his pants, pressing against the rough denim as he tried to mask a groan through a tickly cough. Pressing the back of his hand to his lips as he typed another response to you.

Bakugou[9.02PM]: I promise I’ll take good care of you when I get home, baby.

You[9.05PM]: Turn it up a little please, baby? I need it.

With that text you’d sent an attachment. He’d been hiding the screen of his phone beneath the table all evening to avoid any prying eyes or accusatory questions, but this made him shield the screen from any unsuspecting gazes. A photograph of you staring up into the camera with needy eyes, your glossy lips curled into a cute pout as you pulled your shirt— his shirt, above your chest as the fabric bunched together to reveal your perfect breasts.

God, you were so fucking perfect.

Bakugou decided to take pity on you, his fingers pulling the circle up the screen to increase the vibrations. His free hand reaching forward to grab his bottle as he downed the rest of its contents. Determined this would be his last drink before excusing himself to come home to you, not that he’d have to think of any particular reason.

“Work still trying to contact you, bro? It’s gone nine.” Sero asked, leaning his forearms against the table.

“You have been on the phone a lot, is everything okay?” Kirishima looked concerned.

“He’s probably texting his girlfriend,” Denki practically sang.

“Shut up, idiot. Everything’s fine.”

Slipping his phone back into his pocket as he stood from the booth, smoothing his hands down the black denim on his thighs as he made a beeline towards the bar.

“It’s your round yeah, Kats?” Kirishima called after him, the sound drowned out by the loud bustle of the bar as Bakugou leaned against it waiting to be served. He could feel his phone vibrating in his pocket, knowing that it was texts from you. But he didn’t want to unlock it to read them now, not when anyone could look over his shoulder and catch a glimpse at what was his.

Forgoing a tray as he held the neck of the beer bottles between his knuckles as he carried them back towards the booth to a cheer and raised arms from Denki. Sharing them out as he resumed his seat and wrapped a palm around the cold base of the bottle, distracted as he pulled his phone out to finally respond to you.

You[9.21PM]: I can’t cum with this, baby. It’s driving me crazy.

You[9.23PM]: You are the biggest tease I swear, Kats. My clit is throbbing :(((

Bakugou grinned as instead of responding to your messages, he left them on read. Opening the lush app as he went back to dragging his thumb across the screen, increasing the vibrations to give you some much needed relief. Except this time Sero was quick to notice the app on Bakugou’s phone screen, quick reflexes snatching the phone from his hands.

“Is this what I think it is?” Sero’s eyes sparkled with mischief as his mouth settled into a wide grin, “No wonder you’re talking to us even less than usual tonight, Bakubro.”

“Give it back, tapeface.” Bakugou practically snarled, reaching across the table to try and grab his phone back. Knocking his beer bottle over in the process, which Kirishima’s quick reflexes managed to save with minimal spillage, the head foaming up from the movement.

“What is that?” Denki asked with curiosity as he leaned over Sero’s shoulder to look at the screen.

“You guys ever seen this app before?” Sero turned it to face the table, the circle still sat in the middle of the screen. An indication of the consistent hum of vibrations pulsing through the toy for you right now.

“No, what does it do?” Kirishima tilted his head slightly, “Is it like a game?”

“It’s an app for a remote controlled vibrator,” Sero explained, “So unless it’s inside you right now, man—”

“Piss off.” Bakugou snarled, baring his teeth.

“Then I’m guessing it’s inside your girlfriend.” Sero surmised, turning the screen back to face him.

“Oh,” Kirishima’s lips parted in surprise, and Bakugou could see the cogs turning in his mind as his thoughts clearly went to what you looked like with this little toy stuffed inside your pussy.

“Wait” Denki’s brows were furrowed as though deep in thoyght, the cogs turning in his mind, “So that means she’s got it in right now?”

“Looks like it.” Sero held the phone in one hand as he used his pointer finger to drag the circle down to the bottom of the screen, stopping the vibrations completely, “How many times has she cum already?”

None of your fucking business, Bakugou thought to himself as he sneered across the table. But he hoped you hadn’t cum at all, wanting to return home and experience the luxury of you coming undone on his cock firsthand.

“Oh fuck, man.” Denki whined, “Your girlfriends so fucking hot. How did you get so lucky?”

“Maybe you should give that back, Sero.” Kirishima shuffled beside Bakugou, clearly intrigued with the conversation but he tried to ignore the dark, depraved thoughts that were running through his mind at this moment.

“Yeah, give it the fuck back.” Bakugou snarled, swiping for the phone again as Sero held it over his head and away from Bakugou’s reach.

You[9.30PM]: Baby, why’d you turn it off completely that’s so mean?

“Oh shit,” Sero read the text that came through from you, “Happy birthday to me.”

“Give me the fuckin’ phone,” Bakugou practically snarled, venom laced in his tone as he hoped you wouldn’t try and send another selfie.

“Come on, man. Five minutes,” Sero pleaded, offering the phone back to Bakugou as a peace offering, “It could be my birthday gift, you know?”

Having his friends fawn over you like this had a warped sense of power rolling over him. It was debauched, depraved and downright scummy but Bakugou found himself falling into the sovereignty.

Bakugou knew he should call you to let you know that he was surrendering control to the app to his friends, or at the very least send you a message to let you know. But deep down he knew it was something that you would probably enjoy, maybe a bit too much, if you knew. Often talking to him about uses for the toy, and whether he’d ever share access with it with his friends. The thought of going home to tell you who had been controlling it just to see the wide-eyed look on your face had his cock throbbing beneath his jeans in anticipation.

“Five fuckin’ minutes.”

“That’s the spirit, happy fucking birthday to me.” Sero grinned as he began to slide his finger against the screen, “You shoulda brought her with you, that woulda been the best gift.”

“You’d never be that fuckin’ lucky, tapeface.” Bakugou snorted, taking a sip of beer as Sero’s tongue poked out from between his lips in concentration. Swirling his finger along the screen with such precision, but Bakugou was certain he had no real clue what he was doing.

“A girl online gave me her code to one of these before,” He grinned across the booth, “Let me watch her on video while I did it too—”

“Don’t even think about it.” Bakugou would rather blow his phone up completely than let his friends see you on video.

“How do you even know she’s got it in right now?” Denki asked, “You could just be messing with a dead toy.”

“She sent a text begging me to turn it back on.” Sero grinned, “He’s probably the one that put it in her, lucky prick.”

Bakugou wished he was the one that positioned the toy inside you, although he definitely wouldn’t have made it to the bar if he had. There’s nothing in this world that could’ve torn him away from your pretty little cunt.

“Can you get her to send us a picture?” Denki continued, “Do you have pictures?”

Bakugou had multiple pictures, and videos, of you using the toy. It had originally been a way for him to help you climax whenever he was called away on long missions, a fun addition to the already steamy video calls you’d have at random hours. The time differences were often large as he’d find himself fisting his cock for you on camera at four in the morning, helping you to cum just before you were getting ready for bed.

“Shut up, asshole.” Bakugou growled.

There was no way he was going to show them a picture of you, especially how hot you looked right now. Remembering the photograph you’d sent him just as he made it to the bar, of you spread out against soft sheets as you gave the camera a sultry gaze. Man, he really was a fucking idiot coming out tonight and leaving you at home.

“Oh, he’s definitely got pictures,” Sero smirked, “Look at the look on his face. I bet she looks hot in them too—”

“Don’t you dare, you fuck.” Bakugou made a swipe for the phone, but Sero was quicker. Handing the cellphone off to Denki as he leaned forward to pick up his bottle of beer with a chuckle, taking a large swig from it as he leaned against Denki’s shoulder to watch his friend play with the app.

“Have you used this when she’s out in public?” Denki asked, looking across the booth at Bakugou while his finger criss-crossed over the screen with speed— probably torturing your poor pussy with the intense changes.

“No.” Bakugou answered curtly. Neither of you had really toyed with the device outside long distance, but it’s definitely something that you’d both talked about before. You’d even suggested he wear it one night, so he could feel exactly what it did to you for himself.

“Man, that’s so boring.” Denki pouted, “If she was my girlfriend I’d have her wearing it to the grocery store.”

“That’s because you don’t know how to make a girl cum by yourself.” Bakugou scoffed, taking another sip of his drink as Denki scrunched his nose in response.

“Yeah I do,” Denki turned the screen to face him, giving anyone in the bar who looked over a glimpse at the adult app on the phone in use right now, “In fact I’m gonna make your girl cum without even touching her.”

Bakugou hoped you weren’t coming right now, especially with how intense Denki had the vibrations. He knew you were already riled up and desperate, and this was exactly what you needed to have you tumbling over the edge. But he’d never live it down if Denki was the one to make you climax, he’d never hear the end of it.

“You should invite her next time, man. We could do this with her here.” Denki continued, his finger pausing on the screen while the dot was sat at its highest point. Indicating that the vibrations were on the most intense setting as Bakugou pictured you writhing against the sheets while the toy buzzed inside you. Picturing the creamy slick that drooled out of your hole at the sensation and stuck to your plush thighs. Wishing that he was there to clean you up instead of fantasizing about it. His cock jumped at the thought as he palmed himself subtly through his jeans while shifting in his seat.

God, he had to go home and bury himself inside you.

“Can I have a go?” Kirishima mumbled shyly, his cheeks glowing as red as his hair as he fisted his beer bottle nervously.

“Knock yourself out, man.” Denki held the cellphone out to Kirishima like it belonged to him, the dot still sat at the highest point on the screen.

What Bakugou hadn’t been expecting is the amount of teasing Kirishima was doing for you. His thumb barely moving the circle above the slowest setting, the low rumble of the toy inside you would’ve been barely enough for anyone and Bakugou knew it had to be driving you crazy right now.

You[9.40PM]: I told you to stop being a tease. I was about to cum. :(((

“Oh, she’s texting you.”

Kirishima showed him the screen as he read the text, and Bakugou had never been so happy that Kirishima had managed to seize control of his phone and the app before Denki had a chance to actually make you climax.

Breathing a sigh of relief as he grinned in satisfaction, certain he’d never hear the end of it (from you or Denki) if he’d managed to make you cum.

Kirishima was gentle and cautious as he continued playing with the app, barely letting the vibrations go above the middle of the screen. But thick fingers continued to make it constant, pushing down to wiggle the line every few seconds as he began to make almost swirling patterns against the device.

“Come on, man. Turn it up to the max.” Denki whined, his arms going across the table in a silent plea to get the phone back into his hands.

“So you can make her completely numb?” Sero scoffed, “You know she’d stop being able to feel anything with you.”

“She’d be able to feel a lot.” Denki grabbed at his crotch crudely as the men sat at the table began to laugh, even Bakugou snorted as he took a large swig of his beer. He had to get home to you soon.

“You ain’t ever made a girl cum in their life so what makes you think you could make my girl cum?” Bakugou deadpanned as Denki pouted.

“I have too!” He whined.

“Oh yeah? When was that?” Sero pried.

“Come on, man. Don’t be on his side—”

“The girls on those camsites don’t count, I’m pretty certain they fake it too.”

“I don’t even use those anymore.”

“Oh wow.” Kirishima breathed deeply when Bakugou turned his attention back to his best friend. Noticing he’d opened the texting app and now a photograph you’d just sent sat open on the screen.

“What the fuck, man?” Bakugou grunted, grabbing his phone off Kirishima has he shielded the screen with his body. Curling over the table as he held the device beneath it.

“I’m sorry, it’s not my fault. I saw the notification and I clicked it—” Panic was evident in Kirishima’s tone as he begun a feeble attempt to explain himself. An attempt that would’ve been easier were it not for the alcohol currently circling through his veins, his voice slurred as his eyes glazed over. Trying to commit the picture he’d just seen of you to memory, as though he’d just had a near death experience and had witnessed the pearly gates.

“Let me see,” Denki practically begged, “God, dude. Please— let me see. Eiji got to see, it’s not fair!”

“Shut up,” Bakugou cut both men off, trying to focus on the picture you’d just sent.

It was a photograph taken from above your body, between the gap of your thighs and your chubby mound as he noticed the dark stain that now splashed across your bedsheets. Bakugou sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth when he noticed the text message that you’d sent with it.

You[9.45PM]: You just made me squirt omg

You[9.46PM]: You’re cleaning that up when you get home it’s not my fault :(((

“Fuck, she squirted.” Bakugou mumbled, eyes roaming your exposed skin and the mess you’d made on the screen.

That’s it, he was going home to you now.

“What?!” Denki gasped in surprise, practically jumping over the table in the booth to read the messages, “You made her squirt?”

“Clearly it was me that got her close enough to do it,” Sero grinned, “Eij just got lucky to get her last.”

“And she sent a picture? Can I see it, man? Please.” Denki looked as though he was about to cry, his knuckles turning white from gripping the edge of the table, “Please just one pic.”

Bakugou chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment, debating on whether to show the personal picture you’d sent. A picture that had clearly been intended for his eyes only— but he’d explain to you later.

Turning the screen to the rest of the table, ensuring it faced away from the busy bar as his friends leaned in to look at it. Eyes darting across the imagine to try and memorise it in the few seconds that Bakugou had given them.

“Holy fucking shit.” Sero grinned.

“That’s not fair that you get to go home to that,” Denki threw his head against the back of the booth with a groan, “I’d lick it off the floor.”

“You’re such a fuckin’ freak.” Bakugou sneered, scrunching his nose at the debauched comment.

Locking his phone before leaning forward to pick his beer bottle up to down the rest of its contents, slamming the empty bottle back down on the table as he grabbed his jacket.

“Well, you’ve seen what I’ve got waiting for me at home, I’m out.” Bakugou fist bumped Sero as before shrugging his jacket back on.

“Any chance at a video call?” Denki pleaded, clasping his hands together as Bakugou shot him a glare, “What? I’m just asking.”

Bakugou text you as he left the bar, moving quick on his feet to get home to you as quickly as possible as he hailed a taxi.

Bakugou[9.52PM]: I’m not cleaning that up when I get home, I’m making it worse.

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