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#(I know that could just be me reading into it… but is it?)
gojonanami · 2 days
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❝ 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 !! ❞
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❝ WHEN YOUR CHILDHOOD BEST FRIEND OFFERS TO TEACH YOU HOW TO LOVE, HOW CAN YOU SAY NO ?? ❞
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✧ pairing: college student!yuji itadori x f!reader
✧ summary: yuji itadori has been your best friend since you were kids, and when he offers you to teach you how to fuck, you don't expect him to be able to find his way into your heart too.
✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, aged up characters (don't like? don't read), childhood best friends to fwb to lovers, college au! (no curses), reader is the same age as yuji (both 20s), grew up as neighbors, mutual pining, nobara playing cupid, jealous!yuji, yuji is so golden retriever bf, nightmares, mentions of parental death via car crash (yuji), adoptive dad nanamin :), nipple play, oral (f + m), fingering (f! receiving), handjob (m! receiving), semi public sex (under a blanket with sleeping friends nearby), sex (p in v), creampie, swearing, fanart by unknown artist (found on pinterest, pls let me know if you know the og artist so i can credit)
✧ wc: 13,544
✧ for my 2k celebration event: item 5 has been sold to two anons!
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“You want me to teach you?” 
The words left your best friend’s lips nonchalantly as if he was asking you if you wanted him to teach you how to ride a bike. 
But that’s not what he was offering to have you ride—
“Yuji,” you say slowly, “what are you saying? Do you even know what you’re saying?” 
Yuji Itadori was dense, but you knew he was far from stupid. You learned that in third grade when he punched a bully that had been picking on you, the final straw being when he had tripped you, causing you to skin your knee. Before you could even well any tears up in your eyes, you heard a thwack and a yelp as Yuji had laid the boy out on the playground. You stared at Yuji, as he offered you his other hand to help you to your feet, as your eyes slid from him to your bully. 
Yuji knelt down, carrying you on his back to the nurse’s office, “but Yuji, what about him? We left him—“ 
And he set you down outside the nurse’s office — and he only smiled that wide smile he had always reserved for you, “Don’t worry — I made sure no one was looking.” 
But now, you were beginning to doubt his sanity, rather than his intelligence — “I know what I’m saying,” he chuckles, trademark smile on his lips, “I’m just offering you the chance to practice,” 
“This isn’t practicing a sport or test—you’re offering,” you shift on your bed, while Yuji lounges on the floor, back against the bottom of your bed, “you’re offering to sleep with me, Yuji,” he leans his head on your bed, looking up at you at way, your face upside in his vision. 
“I know, I know, but it’s not a big deal is it?” he’s acting so nonchalant you wonder if one of his teammates had hit him hard in the head during practice, “we’ve had all our firsts together,” 
You scoff, “That was like our first steps, first day of school, first drink—“ 
“First kiss—“ he interrupts, and your face burns at the memory — a preadolescent game gone wrong that ended up with you and Yuji sharing your first kiss when you were teens. 
“That wasn’t real,” you wave him off, crossing your arms, “and this isn’t just a kiss for a game—this could change our friendship—“ 
“It won’t, if we don’t let it,” his gaze is more serious than you’ve ever seen Yuji be — not when he was usually all wide smiles and enthusiasm, “it’s us, we can get through it, and we don’t have to let it get weird right?” 
You chew on your lip, “Yuji, what do you get out of it?” And he’s tilting his head at your question— “I mean you don’t have to do this — just because I’m insecure because I don’t have experience,” you mumble. 
And that’s how the conversation had started — your complaints about your friends talking about their boyfriends, exes, and hookups, while you just nodded along — far too aware that you hadn’t even had a proper kiss, much less sex. And now you had found yourself here. 
“Look,” he slides up to sit on your bed, a good distance away from you, his eyes finding yours — warm hazel that felt as if it was drizzling over your skin wherever his gaze traveled, “I want your first time to be safe. I don’t want you to just hook up with someone and something bad to happen because you can’t say no — with me,” he clenched his hand into a fist holding his other hand flat as he gently hit his fist against it, “you can tell me to stop and if I somehow don’t or don’t hear you, punch me,” 
You snort, “Yuji,” he’s shaking his head. 
“I’m serious, I want you to be safe,” and you’re fidgeting with your fingers in your lap — this was Yuji, Yuji — you couldn’t say you hadn’t noticed how well he had grown up. Not when all of your friends drooled over him — especially with how liked he was — by everyone. 
“What if I lose you?” And he chuckles, as he breaches your personal space and his hand brushes yours. 
“You won’t, ever. I promise,” and your breath catches — many millions of times had Yuji touched you throughout your lives — an arm over over your shoulder, a hug, even holding your hand through crowds during festivals — but a simple brush of his fingers against yours had your heart rattling against its bony enclosure, begging for you to let it out, “what do ya think?” 
And you’re thinking — this would be the best outcome — you weren’t one to hook up with a stranger and you were burnt out on dead end dating app conversations, and to have your first time with someone close, someone you knew — it would be ideal. 
“Are you sure?” And his lips curl into a soft smile, leaning closer, as his fingers gently brush against your locks. 
“Would I be here like this if I wasn’t?” his breath warms your lips, as his fingers skim your cheek, “is this okay?” 
You nod wordlessly, unable to find the words to even reply — you had never thought of this situation would ever happen — especially like this. You lean against his hand, calloused from his practices, but as gentle as it always was. 
“We can take it as slow as you need,” he murmurs, as he’s even closer now, your eyes fluttering shut, only for his lips to graze your forehead. You pause at the featherlight touch — wondering if it actually happened when your eyes open to find his, “no need to rush, right?” He smiles, as he gets to his feet, “are we still on for tomorrow’s study session?” 
“Of course,” 
He scratches the back of his head, “Good because I still don’t understand math or why I need it, but unfortunately, I still have to pass,” he grabs his bag, “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he offers a smile before he’s gone. 
And you’re left sitting on your bed, the warmth of his touch still on your skin, wondering what the fuck just even happened. 
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“Yuji, you just have to solve for x,” you sigh, explaining the problem for the billionth time, as his pen waves back forth between two fingers, “it’s simple,” 
Your weekly study sessions with Yuji were a constant throughout your life, though more for Yuji than you. Yuji is very intelligent, despite his demeanor in class where it felt as if there was a perpetual question mark over his head — he just learned by seeing and then doing. And the repetition helped you all the same. But you had never felt so conscious sitting next to the boy you called your best friend. 
“Maybe to you, but I don’t why math has to involve letters,” he wrinkled his nose at the problem, sighing, as he twists the pen around his hand, and your eyes catch the movement — you didn’t know how the little boy’s whose hands you used to hold had gotten so big now — calloused from his practices, but so soft against your skin,  “is something interesting about my hands?” 
Your eyes snap up to meet his, cheeks burning as you shake your head, “No, just, uh, impressed that you can twist the pen around your hand like that,” 
“Oh, that?” he’s as unfazed as usual, leaning back a little, “that’s easy. I could show you if you want,” 
“It’s fine,” and you’re trying to focus back on the problem, when you find him still staring, “what is it?” 
“If you wanted to hold my hand, you just had to ask,” his fingers graze yours, with enough time for you to pull away, before his fingers lace with yours, “and we can do more if you want?” 
This was crazy — it was probably a mistake, but — as his touch made your heart flutter, warm rolling in waves that erupted into butterflies in your stomach — why weren’t you pulling away? 
“What does more entail?” and he inches a little closer, his breath warming your lips, “but you still haven’t gotten this problem down, are you just trying to get out of studying?” 
A chuckle on his lips, “Maybe I’m just looking for the right motivation, so how about we make a deal?” He moves over, spreading his legs apart, and pats the floor in front of you — for each question I get right, I get a kiss,”
And why you agreed to this, you really didn’t have words—but now you were sat between his legs, nearly in his lap, as he leaned forward — his chest against your back as his chin brushed your shoulder and his cheek brushed against your own, breath warming your neck — trying to get a better look at the math problem. His arm was wrapped around your side as his pen scratched against the scrap paper, trying to solve the problem. You bit your lip, trying your best not to glance at him, but you spot his wrinkled brow out of the corner of his lip and the tip of his tongue poking ever so slightly out of his mouth— and your lips curled, he still had that habit from when you were kids. 
“There, I think I solved it,” he murmurs, and you have to hold back a shiver at the words rumbled against your ear, “is it right?” 
And god, you could barely think, much less do math, but as you glance over the question and answer — he’s got it right.  
Fuck. 
“It is,” you say softly, “is all you need some motivation? Because I would have just promised I would go to see the next Human Earthworm movie,” 
He chuckles, his lips nearly against your ear, as his hand gently traces your jaw, “I’d like that, but I think i rather have what I was promised, as long as you’re still okay with that,” 
Your breath hitches, as you follow his lead, rough pads still so gentle against your cheek, as your eyes find his, but you don’t find his usual doe eyes — but instead find pools of lust threatening to drag you under. Although from the way your lips part and eyes flutter shut, perhaps he had you underwater for far longer than you even knew. 
His lips graze yours — it’s barely a kiss, a peck maybe — as he does his best to ease you in. You didn’t know lips could be so soft — meeting again and again, stealing logic from your mind and breath from your lungs. 
“Are you okay?” He’s murmuring, not even a breath away from your lips. You’re nearly dizzy, mind reeling from his touch, heart jumping at his thumb rubbing lightly against your cheek. 
“I am, just a little strange to be kissing, much less you,” and his brow knits together, “but not bad at all,” you add, and he chuckles, his fingers grazing your cheek firmer, as he leans in again, “we said one kiss—“ 
“Do you really want to stop now?” he’s murmuring, and your noses bump against each other. 
Your lips find his again and now you can taste the sour candy he had stolen from you, but an overwhelming sweetness overrides it, and your hand brushes against his cheek, the other finding purchase on his chest.
“Is that okay?” You murmur, as you lips part, the two of you catching your breath, your shared pants filling the silence, your cheeks burning as your eyes avert from his, “I don’t know—“ 
“You’re fine, don’t worry about it,” a small chuckle on his lips, fingers cupping your chin to guide your gaze back to his — a subtle heat that makes your insides turn to molasses, sticky and sweet and far too warm, “just do what feels right, ok?” 
And his lips find yours again, gently as he did the first time, but more passion behind it, swallowing your quiet murmur of his name with ease. Your lips move against his just as his did — you try to push aside the thoughts of whether you were doing this right. But the slight brush of his teeth against your bottom lip makes you forget too with a gasp. 
He pulls away with a grin on his lips, “Sorry, couldn’t resist,” and his lips are kissed red, your thumb brushed against his swollen lips, “don’t tempt me more,” 
“You’re the one who started this, shouldn’t you take some responsibility, Yu?” your lips graze his cheek, curling as a rosy flush settles over his cheekbones, “nothing to say?” 
“You’re making it hard for me to hold back,” and he’s burying his face in the side of your neck, making you shiver, as he pulls you even closer, arms around your waist, “I don’t want to rush you,” 
Cute, you think before you even think, and yet the way his face is hidden away in your neck, breath warming your neck makes your body flush, and when have you ever thought of Yuji as cute? And yet you couldn’t remember a time that he made your heart race either. 
His lips press a small kiss to your neck, drawing a yelp from your lips, “Yuji—“ he’s nosing the hollow of your throat, “ah, you’re teasing me,” you whine, and he’s lifting his gaze back to yours, heavy with want, a want that leaves you bereft of any semblance of sense. 
“You started it,” he murmurs, before he finds your lips in another kiss — this time it’s a slow heat, languid as it threatens to burn both of you alive, flames licking at the edges of your reason. And his phone goes off — a reminder for practice that he groans at, “I should go. I have to go run laps,” 
“Now?” And he’s slowly disentangling himself from you, the absence of his touch lingers, the heat ebbing, “don’t you usually practice in the mornings?” You get to your feet slowly as well, handing him his math notebook, and it occurs to you when you spot the puddles outside, “it was too wet,” 
And he nods, scratching the back of his head, as the two of you walk out into your apartment’s living space, “and I forgot my protein shake—“ you head over to the kitchen, opening the refrigerator door and pulling out his shake, and he blinks, “how—“ 
“You did the same thing last week, so I just bought a pack for you,” and his lips curl as he walks over and takes the bottle from your hand, fingers brushing — and even that much alight a flutter of nerves through your body. 
“Thanks,” he grins, and you nod. 
“Of course, I thought it just made sense since you come here every week—” you turn to shut the refrigerator, before turning back, only to find him stepping a bit closer, “Yu—“ 
“I almost forgot, one more lesson,” and he’s leaning close, and your breath catches in your throat, as his lips brush yours, fingers tracing the swell of your cheek, “a kiss goodbye,” and he parts, a brush of his fingers against yours, “I’ll text you later,” and he’s gone in a flash. 
Your left, fingertips touching your lips, a questioning lingering as he left — whether these feelings blooming in your chest were just from the kiss, or something more. 
But you glance at your phone — a text from Yuji: 
Golden Retriever Bestie: thanks for the drink again :)
You lock the screen — but you couldn’t hope for more, right? Not when this was started with the intention of stopping. But why—as you laid back into bed, staring up at your ceiling in the same room the two of you had spent the last two years watching movies or studying in, eyes squeezing shut—
Why did you still want more? 
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When did Yuji Itadori fall in love with you? It would probably be easier for him to list the moments he hadn’t fallen for you — but the earliest he can remember was when he had hurt himself climbing a tree in the schoolyard, falling from the branch he had made it to. You had been watching him the whole time, telling him to come down, and when he fell, you were at his side. His vision was a little blurry but when it cleared, he saw you knelt above him, big tears leaving your eyes. And when he came to, you hugged him tight, before helping him to the nurse’s. You had even insisted on bandaging his cuts, not letting the nurse do so. 
And that’s when he knew — he knew he always wanted to wake to you beside him. 
“You what?” Nobara scoffed at him, as she held up another of her new purchases in front of her while looking in her full length mirror, “so instead of asking her out and confession this pathetic crush—“ 
“Pathetic is kinda harsh, Kugisaki—“ 
“It’s been over a decade — your one sided feelings is now in secondary school — it’s officially pathetic,” she hangs up the new leather jacket she bought in her closet, before turning to Yuji, “so instead of confessing, you asked her to be your friends with benefits—“ 
“That’s not exactly—“ she cuts him off with a look, “ok that’s kind of what I did,” he shakes his head, “she was venting about how she never had her first kiss and words started coming out of my mouth and wouldn’t stop—“ 
“Not the first time that’s happened to you is it?” And Yuji glares at her through the mirror, “what? You came to me instead of Fushiguro because you wanted a pretty girl’s opinion right?” 
“I said girl, nothing about—“ it was her turn to glare at him, “alright, alright — what do I do now? I want to tell her I like her, but if I do, I might seem like a—“ 
“A creep? A weirdo? A pervert?” 
“I was gonna say liar, but those too,” he rubbed a hand down his face, “what do I do?” 
She sighs, tucking a strand of her dyed hair behind her ear, “the only thing to do in situation like this,” 
“Tell the truth?” And she scoffs. 
“No, of course not, just use this time to make her fall for you, but that means you’ll have to use this agreement to your advantage,” she hums, “she said she wanted more experience right?” And Yuji nods, “who says it has to just be making out and sex?” 
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“You want to go on a date? Fuck,” you mutter under your breath as you turn the heat of your burner down, hoping you hadn’t completely burned your omelet now as you flipped it, “I thought this was just supposed to be for the more…physical sides of things,” your cheeks burned. 
God, what the fuck. 
“I mean part of gaining experience is learning how to date, right?” And you’re placing your slightly burned omelet in the plate, as you wipe your hands off with your dishcloth, “we could go to an arcade, maybe catch a movie,” 
“Human Earthworm 4?” And you hear him chuckle over the line, and the sound makes your lips curl — it always felt like an accomplishment making him laugh, but even more so now.  
“We don’t have to—“ 
“I don’t mind,” you cut him off, and you never did — you just loved to tease him, as you always did, “they’ve grown on me,” and you didn’t know there was more room for Yuji to grow on you, you thought his roots had already went far and deep, tangled around every inch of yourself and your mind, even your heart — but now—
“Does 2 PM work? I’ll come by and pick you up from your place,” and you didn’t know where it would go but— 
“Sounds perfect,”  he had found his way into a place you never thought anyone would find themselves in. — and as he hung up, biting your bottom lip—
And it seemed he was here to stay. 
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“You’re such a cheater,” you glared at Yuji as he won for the tenth time at the boxing game — hitting the max score every time, “tell me what the trick is,” 
“You know I’m strong,” Yuji gapes,  holding his arm, “how would I cheat?” And you’re pouting, crossing your arms. 
“You’re cheating by being you,” and Yuji has to bite back his smile — you were being so cute — but he knows saying that will earn him a punch in the shoulder harder than you gave the punching bag on the machine, “now you have to buy me an ice cream,” 
“For?” He raises an eyebrow. 
“For being a cheater,” and he can’t help the chuckle that leaves his lips that earns him a bunch of slaps to his arm, before he’s wrapping that same arm around your waist, your complaints chased away by a gasp, “what—“ 
“I was going to buy you anything you wanted anyway, it is a date after all,” he smiles, and you stammer, but you don’t pull away, “what flavor do you want?” After you tell him, he goes off to the concession to buy you both some ice cream, and when he finds you at a table, he sees you’re not alone. His lips are a tight line, as he finds a guy leaning against the booth you sat in, clearly flirting with you, your back to Yuji so he can’t see your face. 
He finds his way back to you, his hand brushes your shoulder gently, “is everything okay?” He asks you, meeting your gaze without regard for the stranger — and he’s glad he did, because he spots your pursed lips and darting eyes that told him everything he needed to know, “you need something?” He asks the guy, a friendly smile on his lips. 
“Not from you,” the guy scoffs, “I was talking to—“ 
“Well, you’re talking to me now, not my date, so—“ and you’re leaning into Yuji, “you need something or not?” And the guy grumbles something under his breath before slinking away, and Yuji’s sliding in beside you when you move over, “you okay?” 
“Yeah, he wouldn’t leave,” you sigh, shaking your head, “sorry—“ 
“You have nothing to be sorry about,” he murmurs, as he hands you your ice cream, “as long as you’re okay,” his arm slides around your shoulder and squeezes you, “i would’ve punched him if it wouldn’t have ruined our date,” 
You snort, as you lick your ice cream, “if you punched him harder than you did the bag, don’t know if this date would have ended with us going home,” and he pouts, as he laps at his ice cream, and he feels you turn to look at him, “Didn’t know you were the jealous type, Yu,” and he chuckles, he wanted to say — only when it came to you. 
But he knew that he couldn’t. Not like this.  
“I didn’t think I was either.” 
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“Nope, not gonna admit it,” and Yuji’s grinning still, as the two of you walk out of the theater, his arm still around your shoulder, “no it wasn’t that good,” 
If there was one thing about Yuji is that movies were literally his obsession — one movie marathon when the two of you were teens had turned him into a fanatic. And he often ended up dragging you to all of them he saw in theaters — and you probably had watched the Human Earthworm movies the most amount of times anyone ever has — aside from Yuji. Well, more like you watched him watch it, because while he was smiling and laughing (or crying) at the movie, you were looking at him. 
And right now, he looked far too smug, “So you admit that it was good,” and you cross your arms, shaking your head, “I saw you tearing up at the end — I told you, it’s all about love!” 
You purse your lips, if only to hold back your smile, before sighing, “How would no one tear up at that ending?” And his hand’s grabbing yours, tugging at your arm, as the two of you walk along, “Yu—“ 
“I knew you liked it! C’mon, I knew you would, now what was your favorite part?” And your lips curl into a smile, “what?” 
That was one of the things you loved the most about Yuji, how excited he could get — how he loved everything so wholeheartedly with no reservations, and you knew he was the one person you could always count on to cheer you up. 
“Nothing, nothing,” you chuckle, letting your fingers lace with his, “my favorite part?” And you want to say — watching him enjoy the movie. 
But you can’t. 
“Probably the ending,” you slowly smile, “liked it when the credits rolled,” and he’s mock glaring, as you laugh before his arm tightening around your waist, “Yu-ji—“ 
“Not going to be honest?” He murmurs, before kissing your chin, “then maybe I’ll make you.” 
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“Yu—ngh, please,” Yuji could get addicted to your taste, it was never enough, was it? His lips had spent the last twenty minutes kissing every inch of your face and neck, traversing over every nook and cranny as he always wanted to — and yet it was never enough. Any time spent with you was never enough —because you always made anything better, and nothing ever worse. 
And he knew no one else would ever feel this good. 
How many times had he imagined just this scenario? Of you in his bedroom with him alone, as you had been many times before, but never like this. You never looked at him like that before — with that shyness mixed with an undercurrent of want. And it was enough to rip him away and drag him under with you. 
“Please what, baby?” Yuji looks up with a wry smile and soft eyes that burn a path where as it raked down your body like coals across a fire, “want me to stop?” And he’s dragging a thumb down your untouched lips. 
You cover your face with the back of your hand, and he’s gently tugging it away, pressing a kiss to your wrist, your pulse jumping underneath, “I want more,” and fuck if he wasn’t at full mast from the kissing, he was now at your words, “I want you to…kiss me and…touch me,” you mumble, eyes averted, but he’s smiling all the same — you were so cute. 
“Where can I touch?” he asks softly, his nose brushing yours, “need you to tell me. I don’t want to rush—“ 
And your lips crash against his, your fingers finding the back of his neck, threading in his pink locks. He’s pausing a moment before he melts into your kiss, and you’re taking the lead, as you lean further into the kiss, your fingers sliding down from his shoulder to his chest. His tongue flicks against the seam of your lips and you part for him. 
“I want you to touch me,” you murmur as you break the kiss, panting, strings of your spit still connecting your lips, your breathy words nearly enough for him to lose all control, “I’ll tell you if I don’t like it,” 
And he’s more than happy to oblige, his lips find yours in a bruising kiss, his hand toys with the hem of your shirt as permission, and you part from the kiss to nod. His hand slides up your soft flesh, pushing up your shirt along with it — finding your lacy bra underneath. He’s tugging the shirt up and over your head with your help, and god—
He has to stop himself from cumming right then and there at the sight of you. His fingers reach out, toying with the strap of your bra, “Did you wear this for me?” And you biting your bottom lip was all the answer he needed. 
“Yu—“ he’s tweaking your hardened bud through the fabric, “ah, fuck—“ and he leans down to suck the other side through your bra, while sliding down your bra strap. 
“Need to taste you,” and you’re nodding, while he’s reaching around to brush against the clasp of your bra to undo it, and his cock twitches at the sight of your bare skin — you’re so fucking pretty. 
He always thought you were pretty — when you were kids drenched from running around in the rain, when you were just waking up from a nap with your hair askew and dried drool in the corner of your mouth, when your eyes were wide with excitement and nearly jumping up and down to tell him good news; and when you’re smiling—especially when you’re smiling. 
It was his favorite thing. 
“Don’t stare so much,” you’re trying cover yourself, but his hands catch yours, easing them off, “It’s embarrassing—“ 
“You’re perfect,” and your lips part but no words come, but you can’t meet his gaze, “you are—“ 
“You’re just saying that—“ and his fingers pinch your nipple drawing a gasp from your lips, while he leans down and takes the other in his mouth. His eyes find yours, blown into deep, dark pools by his lust — ones you’d be more than willing to drown in. 
“I’d never just say that, especially to you, baby,” and you’re about to make a smart remark about him calling you ‘baby.’ But you forget every word you ever learned when his fingers start to drag down your stomach, fingers playing with the button of your jeans, “can I?” 
And you nod, your back arching ever so slightly as his lips press a sweet kiss to your bellybutton. He’s kissing down your soft legs as he tugs down your jeans — one to your thigh, another to your knee, and another to your ankle —before he’s kissing up the other. 
“How’s that feel?” he murmurs, eyes flitting up to meet yours, and fuck, your lips parted and swollen a pretty red, eyes half lidded with want, and — as his eyes fall between your thighs — a growing wet spot on your panties. 
His fingers toy with the elastic, snapping it lightly against your skin, a slight flinch only, as his eyes gaze at your clothed cunt with near reverence. He looks for permission, before he leans in to press a kiss to your swollen clit, a small yelp escaping your mouth. 
“Yuji,” you whine, lifting your head to meet his gaze again, “please,” 
“Say my name again, please,” he’s kissing your thigh gently, and it feels as if you’ll crumble under his touch any second, wither away in a figment of his imagination, and he won’t ever get the chance to hear you like this again, much less touch you. He was selfish to take advantage like this — and he knew he was — but he couldn’t leave it like this.
“Yuji, just touch me—“ and your head falls back as his fingers graze your clit through your nearly translucent underwear, “ngh, you fucker—“ and he’s chuckling, as he tugs your panties away. 
“Wanted to keep them on since you looked so good, but,” and he’s pocketing them with a grin, “I’ll just keep them instead,” your dripping walls twitch at the thought, “s’good for me. What do you want, my fingers or my tongue?” 
“Fuck, I don’t know, just touch—“ and your head lolls against the pillow as his tongue drags up flat up the length of your weeping pussy. 
“You’re so sweet — I could live here,” he murmurs, as his fingers spread your slick folds, a pretty moan falling from your lips as he does, “can’t wait to feel you cum around my fingers,” he’s easing a finger in — and you’re so tight, you’re tensing as he tries to part your walls, “relax, ok? I’ll be gentle. Don’t worry. I won’t ever hurt you,” his eyes meet yours and you’re nodding, as he pulls his finger away, a shiver at the empty ache, but it falls away into another moan as his tongue replaces it. 
The wet squelch of your folds is enough for him to cum right there — you smell as sweet as you taste, as he kisses your clit, before dragging the length of his tongue over your sopping slit again, “Yuji—fuck—“ your fingers find purchase in his pink locks right when he decides to sink a finger inside you again. 
“That’s it,” he grunts, as he works his finger knuckle deep into you, “so good f’me, so tight,” he’s murmuring, and your syrupy walls wrapped around his finger makes him wonder how good it will feel when his cock is inside you. He’s palming his erection through his pants, desperate for any kind of fucking friction, “g’nna add another,” 
And you’re nodding, “please, I—“ and a second finger joins the first, and the lewd noises grow louder from your slick and his fingers begin to pump faster — teasing and stretching your walls as they begin to flutter around you, “Yuji, Yuji—“ his name leaves your lips like a prayer, but he’s the one who would worship at your feet, if you’d let him, your moans and whimpers were all he needed to survive, and he’d give his very soul if it meant he could be at your side. 
His fingers are fucking you open, the tips of his fingers brushing against the spot that his your mouth falling open in a silent moan, “that’s it, cum for me, pretty girl,” and pleasure rips up your spine, as you cum all over his fingers, thighs shaking as you do. He fucks you slowly through your orgasm, helping you ride it out, until he’s slowing, leaning up to prsss sweet kisses to your face. 
“I’m going to pull them out slowly,” he murmurs, your eyes still fluttered shut, but they slowly open to watch him ease his fingers from you. Soft pants leave your lips as you watch him with lidded eyes lick his fingers sticky with your release clean. 
“Are you okay?” He’s murmuring, as he moves up to lean over your face, and you’re nodding, “let me clean you up and we can sleep, ok?” he’s moving to get off the bed, but you grab his hand, and he tilts his head. 
“What about you?” You mumble, frowning, eyes flickering to the tent in his pants with a shy gaze, “I want to—“ 
“It’s okay, let’s just take it easy today,” he’s smiling, fingers finding yours and squeezing, pressing his lips to your knuckles, “you look like you’re about to pass out,” and you’re pouting all the same, but you seem to relent as the exhaustion sets in once again at your words, “I’ll be right back,” and he retreats to his bathroom to wet a washcloth, only to come back to you fast asleep. 
He chuckles at the sight of you sprawled out on his bed — a sight not uncommon to him on nights you spent over, but never like this before. He leans on the bed carefully, mattress creaking ever so slightly under his weight, as he begins to clean you gently — and luckily, you don’t wake by the time he’s done. He can’t put your jeans or underwear on so he opts to grab a pair of his freshly washed shorts and slides them on you. He adjusts the blanket, draping it over you, running his fingers through your hair to tuck it behind your ear, and the back of his knuckles over your cheek. 
“Yuji,” you mumble in your sleep, and he bites his lip — as he returns to his bathroom, softly shutting the bedroom door and the bathroom door behind him, a glaring problem to deal with, as he is still nearly waddling at this point from the grazing of his boxers against his aching erection. 
He undoes his jeans quickly, eyes fluttering as he pushes both down and strips his shirt off before slipping into the shower. The squeak of the shower faucet and the water running hopefully don’t wake you — but more importantly, he hopes his moans don’t.  
His dick was rock hard and aching still — there were so many times he nearly came in his pants, and by how drenched his boxers were — maybe he had. But fuck, you were so gorgeous, laid back and spread out for him. 
His fingers grazed his weeping cock, smearing the precum up and down his length, thumb tracing his slit, as you would. He could see you thumbing his head experimentally, as your eyes flickered up at him, doe eyes, yet glazed over with lust. It wouldn’t be long until you’re slowly pumping him, as he does now — from base to tip, teasing his balls all the same. You’d flick your tongue over the tip, sucking at the dripping precum — wrinkle your nose at the salty taste, but you’d suck at his tip all the same. 
He’d look down at you as your hand switches to toying with his balls, as you let his cock slap against your tongue, before letting his length slip past your lips. Your lips would feel so much softer than his hand does right now, jerking himself off, your plush lips and tongue wrapped around his dick. A low groan escapes his lips, as he covers his mouth, hoping you couldn’t hear him over the running water. The squelch of his precum and his soft moans would only make him want to repay the favor, making you cum over and over, until you were begging him to stop. 
Fuck, he was close, by the way his cock twitched in his hand — where would he cum with you? He’d cum anywhere you wanted — but to cum on your face or chest, the image made him shudder. Your tongue would flick out to clean up some of the cum, and—
Fuck, he moans your name, as he cums all over his fingers, his release sprayed against the tile of his shower, dripping down and mixing with the water. He’s panting, as he cleans his hand off in the shower, leaning his head back. 
What has he gotten himself into? Was it right for him to do this? You didn’t know how he felt — and he didn’t know if you would ever feel the same. But as he got dressed and crawled into bed beside you, keeping his distance as you slept, he felt you move closer, mumbling his name as you did. He couldn’t help but softly smile, running his fingers through his hair—it didn’t matter if you never ended up loving him, as long as you knew what you deserved—to be with someone who loved you, as much or even more than he did. 
He let himself drift off, a loose arm thrown over your middle—he’d let himself have this, if only for now. 
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“Oh come on, you couldn’t get the ad free version, Fushiguro?” Nobara complains as yet another commercial comes on, as she glares at the black haired vet student, who sat on the floor after she stole his armchair. 
He only shrugs, bearing little to no reaction, “If you’re going to complain, then why don’t you pay for it?” 
Nobara and him begin to bicker ever so slightly, and Yuji chuckles in your ear, “are they more fun to watch then the show?” 
The four of you were at your apartment, watching a new season of a TV show you all had started last year. You were sat next to Yuji on the couch, your bodies nearly pressed against each other as you shared the blanket, a little cold from the rain outside. 
“They’re always more entertaining than the show, that’s why we agree to this,” you whisper back, the proximity of your bodies making your cheeks burn. You turn away, hoping he can’t feel or even hear the way your heart was beating down your ribs to burst free. Every time he shifted even slightly, you felt your body react — so conscious of even a twitch of his fingers — you wanted to bury yourself under the blanket. 
It had been like this since that night. 
You had woken up to him asleep beside you. Your eyes fluttered open as consciousness slowly crept into focus, sunlight filtering into sight, a small groan leaving your lips. And it wasn’t until you tried to reach for your phone you realized the thing beside you wasn’t a pillow but a person.  
Your eyes flew open and you found Yuji still sound asleep beside you. It wasn’t unusual for the two of you to sleep on the same bed — especially after a late night where one or the other didn’t want to go home — but it was different to wake up entangled with him, especially after the events of the night before came flooding back. 
And after that, each time you had been around him, you had become more and more conscious of his touch, nervous even, at the simplest of brushes of his fingers. And this? His body pressed against yours, his fingers grazing your thigh nearly, and his soft breath against your ear — god, you were going to lose it. 
“You ok?” he murmurs a half an hour later, and the question itself makes you squirm — because no, your hot best friend was pressed against you and making you want to do nothing more than kiss him— 
Wait, wait, hot? Your mind stutters at your own thoughts, lagging to comprehend yourself — hot? You wanted to kiss him? You always knew Yuji was hot, he was objectively — especially based on how many of your friends had wanted you to hook them up with him — but you had never thought of him that way. Maybe in passing — but to you, that was the one line you could never cross, especially when you had seen so many friendships fall apart because of a relationship. 
You never wanted to risk Yuji like that. 
But then here you were — blurring that line you said you never cross — and letting the ground split underneath the two of you. 
“I’m fine,” you mumble back — and yet here he was, seemingly unfazed by your proximity and as the minutes ticked by, it began to eat away at you. Did he not find it as meaningful as you did? Did he not feel as good as you? Do you need to touch him just to make him feel just as heartsick as you were? 
And now you know what you wanted to do. 
As the show went on, Nobara and Fushiguro fell asleep — Fushiguro asleep with a cushion he had stolen from Nobara’s armchair and Nobara curled up in said armchair, passed out. 
“Should we stop the show and go to bed?” Yuji asks you, albeit innocently — but there was anything but innocent intentions in your mind when you shake your head, a smile on your lips. 
“Let’s keep watching,” your fingers grazes his thigh, as you lean over, lips nearly brushing against his ear, “it’s just getting interesting, right?” 
And his breath hitches, “what’re you—“ and your fingers inches higher, grazing over his already tenting erection, a hiss escapes his lips, as he’s covering his mouth. 
“Shh, don’t wake them,” and your fingers are ghosting and teasing over his cock, the precum already starting to seep through the fabric, as he shifts under your touch. Your thumb flicks over his head, now fully hard, “so big already,” you mumble, and now your lips press sweet kisses to his neck, finding small cuts and bruises from his practices, and a gasp escaped his lips. 
“We shouldn’t be doing this—“ and your lips find his, and he melts so easily into your touch, your fingers toy with the elastic of his shorts, his eyes flickering to the two sleeping. He’s pulling away for a breath, lips utterly ruined — his fingers running through his hair, “please—“ and your lips curl. 
Your fingers finally brush against his leaking cock, and his head falls back, his cheeks flushed a pretty pink, lips parted as soft pants left his lips. And you’re nearly shivering yourself at his want — seeping into your own body, as his pants and moans send a wave of heat between your thighs. 
You rub your thighs together, as you shift even closer somehow, “Gotta be quiet Yu — they can hear us after all,” you murmur, right as your thumb swipes over his slit, a yelp caught in his throat, as his hand flies back to lips, “good boy,” and his dick twitches at the praise, as your finger begins to trace along his veins, “so big, how am I going to fit you inside?” you murmur, biting back a smirk when a muffled groan reaches your ears. 
Your fingers finally curl around his length, you never thought a cock to be pretty — but Yuji’s was. You stared at it under the covers, flushed a lovely red, too dripping pearly beads of precum, and the slight curve it had to it — made the ache in your cunt only grow. 
“Please, baby, I need, please—“ he’s whining, “I need you—“ 
And you oblige him, your hand beginning to spread the pre along his length, beginning to stroke him slowly from base to tip. He’s biting his lip, hard, nearly drawing blood as he chooses to bury his face in the crook of your neck, if only to muffle any moans that fell from his lips. 
“S’good for me, Yu, wanna make you feel as good as I did,” his moan vibrates against your skin, cock twitching in your fingers, “gonna move faster, don’t want our friends to see you like this, do you? You have to be quiet,” and god, why did only seem to get harder at your words? 
Your fingers begin to jerk him off in earnest, the wet squelch of his cock nearly not hidden enough by the volume of the TV, but nearly don’t care at this point — you just want him to fall apart under your touch, need him to. 
And oh, he’s so close. His groans are more frequent, his hips jerking against your fist, and when your other hand finds his balls, squeezing — it’s too much. 
He moans softly, “I’m—“ and that’s all he manages before he spills on your fingers — warm, white spurts splatter against your palm and the blanket, dripping, as he falls back, limp against the sofa. His cock softened in your hand, as you pull it away, before gently wiping him clean with the already drenched blanket. 
He’s panting and fucked out, eyes half lidded as his chest rises and falls, watching you lick your fingers clear of his release, gaze never leaving his. 
“Didn’t know you’d taste this good—“ you barely can manage, before he’s leaning forward to kiss you. Your fingers slide against his cheek to cup it, feeling his hand tangle itself in your hair, “Yuji—“ 
“What was that about?” he murmurs, “not that I’m complaining but—“ but then Megumi starts to move and you both freeze, your breath catching, until Megumi seemingly falls back asleep, “we should head to bed, but—“ 
He looks at the blanket, and the mess you made of him and the couch alike. 
“The blanket I’ll toss in the washer, the cushion I’ll clean up and just turn over—“ and you smile, “and you take a shower before bed,” 
His brow still knits together, “but we haven’t—“ 
“We’ll talk later,” and when later came, Yuji found you fast asleep in bed, with more questions than answers. But he supposed, as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his answers could come later. 
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How long has it been? 
You stared at your phone — as if you could will it to receive the message you’ve been waiting for. As if it would grant your one and only wish for a text or a call — but it didn’t. Instead, it only gave you a spam call and a text to let you know you had a discount code for your favorite takeout place. 
Great. 
It had been a week since you had heard from Yuji — and a week since that night. You had woken up to the other three gone — gone off to their own apartments after you had slept in and texts on your phone from them in the groupchat. It was a few days before break — before you and Yuji would be heading back home for a few days together. But you hadn’t seen him at all since — not a chance to talk, much less seeing him. 
Was he upset? Was he done with this? Was his promise to stay empty in the end? Was it your fault — for pushing it, for agreeing to it, and for falling for it all the same? Falling for it or — your eyes trace the screen of your phone as if it’s his cheek — or falling for him. 
No, you rake your fingers through your hair, no, you didn’t love him — not like that. Not the way you shouldn’t, the way you had sworn yourself never to — but maybe all promises between friends were empty, when they were made like this. 
But you weren’t made to let this break apart. 
You found yourself at his door after classes, knocking at his door of his apartment. The door opens, and you find Yuji rubbing his eyes, hair askew, and shoulders drooped. 
“Hey,” he yawned, he’s still shaking off the shackles of sleep, “sorry, what’s up?” 
“Are you okay?” Your furrow your brow, your eyes spot the dark bags under his eyes, large enough to nearly engulf his eyes all together, “you look like you haven’t slept in days,” he steps aside to let you in, you glance around, his apartment wasn’t usually the cleanest — but it wasn’t a wreck like it was now. Clothes scattered, unwashed dishes stacked up, and papers strewn about. 
“I just haven’t…been sleeping—“ and then you remember. 
It wasn’t about you. It was about him. And you were so wrapped up in yourself, you weren’t thinking about him. 
“Yuji, you’re having those nightmares again, aren’t you?” You murmur softly, and the way his gaze falls to the ground tells you everything you need to know, “alright, go lay down,” 
“What?” he’s blinking, but your hand already finds his as you take him to his bedroom, “what are you—“ 
“You lay down. I’m going to make you dinner, and then you’re going to sleep,” and he sits on the bed reluctantly, fingers against his knees, as he bit his lip. 
“I can’t sleep, I told you—“ you cup his cheek, and guide his gaze to yours. 
“Remember what we’d do when you couldn’t sleep after the accident?” 
“This feels ridiculous,” Yuji murmurs into your chest, his head buried there, while your fingers run softly through his pink locks, “we’re not six anymore—“ 
“So what? Doesn’t mean we can’t do this still,” you say, as your fingers pause, “unless you don’t want me to,” 
“I didn’t say that,” he mumbles, and you can hear the blush in his voice that undoubtedly painted his cheeks, “I just meant it feels like I’m bothering—“ 
“Yu, don’t make me pinch you,” you murmur, rubbing his head, “you’re never a bother,” you kiss his head softly without thinking, and soon your cheeks are burning too, “sorry I didn’t—“ 
“Why are you sorry?” He chuckles, “we’ve done a lot more than kiss recently,” and he adds, “especially you,” 
You bite your lip, glad he couldn’t see your face like this, “I thought that’s why you weren’t talking to me, I thought you didn’t like what I did…on the couch, you know—“ 
“I know,” he chuckles this time, “and how could I not like that?” And you swallow the lump in your throat, as the two of you fall into a comfortable silence that you choose to breach. 
“You haven’t had these nightmares in a while,” you murmur quietly, before you add, “we don’t have to talk—“ 
“I know, but it happens from time to time, especially this month,” and your brow furrows, “don’t wrinkle your forehead at me,” and you lean back to gape at him, a smile pulling at his lips, “you always do that when you find out I’m keeping something from you,” 
He moves ever so slightly away, turning to look at the ceiling, “Well I think I have a right because this is a pretty big thing to keep from me, Yu,” you pout, and your fingers begin to absentmindedly trace his jaw, his eyes fluttering shut — you always treated him so gently, like that something that could shatter, but he knew you would always be there to put him back together. Because you did that once already. Over a decade ago, “why didn’t you tell me?” 
Because he didn’t want to worry you. Because he didn’t want you to think of him still as that broken kid you watched after when he had his world fall apart. 
Because he didn’t want you to take that burden — he wanted to handle it himself. 
“I didn’t want to bother you—“ 
“It’s never a bother when it’s you,” and his voice catches in his throat — fuck, how did you always know just what to say? 
He takes a breath, “it’s just the same dream. Of the crash,” he could see something so clearly that he never experienced. He was at home with you when the crash happened — a play date Yuji had insisted on when he had cried and begged his parents to stay with you instead of going to dinner with them. They had relented — and that was the thing that left him alone. 
It was lucky that his grandfather was able to take him in, and stay close by — so he still got to go to school with you. 
“Let’s try to sleep, ok?” You murmur, “you’ll feel better when you sleep,” you cup his cheek, and he’s biting his lip, “what is it?” 
“What if I see it again?” He whispers, as if he’s afraid that his words were any louder he would speak it into existence. 
“Come here,” you say softly, your fingers gently guide his head to face you,  “I’ll keep you safe, I promise,” A sigh leaves his lips as he moves closer, letting you engulf him in your arms, his eyes shutting, and letting himself relax for a moment — the first moment in far too many days. 
When he let himself slip into sleep’s embrace—it was the first night he didn’t dream of the crash — he dreamt of you.  
And when he woke in your arms in the morning, your soft lips parted as you slept, sunlight dappled on your skin through his window, and the way your fingers held onto the fabric of his shirt — he knew, he knew he had to tell you how he felt. 
He needed to end this — his fingers brushing a strand of hair behind your ear — if only to begin something new. 
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You had to end it — it hadn’t sunk in until the car drove back home. The quiet morning drive left you both in a comfortable silence, the quiet white noise of his playlist, along with Yuji’s terrible singalongs and your bickering over his music choice. And you found yourself more than once staring at him as he drove, to the point where he had caught you looking. 
“What?” He tilts his head when the light turned red, fingers drumming on the steering, the other poking your side. 
“Nothing,” and you’re playfully slapping his hand away, a smile on your lips — same smile you always had with him. Always—because he’s your best friend. But he was so much more than that. 
You were in love. 
The two of you had returned to the place where you had laid your roots to rest and let your seed scatter to the wind. Only to return as a different flower altogether — but you knew, you couldn’t let it go on. 
It had become painfully clear that morning, you had woken first, the sun had not peaked over the horizon yet, and you found Yuji fast asleep — breaths even and face relaxed. You knew his parents had scarred him deeply — he spoke of them often, but not at all at — he mentioned their presence, but never his own feelings. You knew he had a habit of putting others above himself — but you had missed this — all of this week, you could have been there for him, but you were caught up in your own thoughts and you had made it all about yourself. 
And he deserved more than that. 
He deserved more than you. 
And you couldn’t risk losing him — lose him in a stupid argument or a disagreement and then never be able to comfort him again? Never be able to be by his side? You couldn’t bear to even fathom that. 
“Nanamin was asking about you,” Yuji says as the two of you walk home from the local convenience store — a late night run that produced a familiar bag of treats the two of you always shared when you came back home. 
“Oh really? Are classes over for high school already?” The English literature teacher had taken Yuji in for his last year and half of high school after his grandfather passed, and Yuji always stayed with him on breaks. 
“He asked if you were going to come with us to see my parents tomorrow morning,” it was a tradition to go visit Yuji’s parents graves each year around this time — you always paid your respects whenever you could, “he also said you’re free to stay over, but you have to sleep in a different bedroom,” you snort, “he said and I quote ‘we are past the age of sharing a room,’” You laugh, cheeks burning as you shake your head, “he’s not exactly wrong though,” his fingers graze yours, and there’s nothing more you want than to take his hand, but you know one way or another, you’d drop it in the end. Wouldn’t it be better now? When there isn’t far to fall? 
So you do, letting your hand fall away from his. 
“I’d be happy to see your parents, but I don’t know if staying over is a good idea—“ and he’s shaking his head with a chuckle in his throat. 
“Don’t worry, I won’t do anything you don’t want to—“ 
“We should stop, Yuji,” and his smile slips off his face as if it was slapped off, he blinks, shock settling into confusion. 
“Why?” Only one word and it manages to break you all the same. 
“We just shouldn’t. This was supposed to be about teaching me, but i think I’ve learned enough,” you’re turning away, but his fingers are gently finding your wrist, “Yuji—“ 
“You don’t think I can’t tell when you’re lying?” Yuji asks, and your glass-like facade shatters so easily — why does it always have to break so readily when it comes to him? 
But you pull away all the same, “I can’t do this anymore. Not like this. I don’t want to. I can’t lose you—“ 
“You won’t lose me—“ but you’re already walking off, sparing a glance back. 
“I’ll see you tomorrow morning when we leave, Yuji,” and he’s opening his mouth to call out, but he stops himself, watching you disappear up the street. 
What just happened? 
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The car ride to the cemetery is notably silent. Yuji’s eyes burned when he woke, head aching from the circles he ran around in last night, trying to figure out what happened. Nanami drives in the quiet, his eyes noting when Yuji chooses to sit passenger instead of beside you, only with one glance that’s averted after Yuji refuses to meet it. 
Yuji didn’t know what to make of what you said. After everything, he thought maybe — just maybe, you felt the same as he did. He thought he could tell you tomorrow, tell you when the two of you were alone — and even if it didn’t work out, it would be okay. 
But now — as his eyes stole a look at you in the rear view mirror, he wondered if it ever would be okay again. 
You left the car a moment to go use the bathroom when they stopped to fill gas in the car, and that’s when Nanami speaks. 
“So did you finally ask her out and she said no?” And Yuji’s head snaps to his, but Nanami only stares back, “you aren’t hard to read, Itadori. You’ve liked her for a long time,” 
Yuji scratches the back of his head, “I did something, kinda stupid,” and Nanami tilts his head, “really stupid, ok? And I was going to tell her how I felt, but she broke off what we were doing—“ 
“You weren’t dating?” Yuji’s cheeks burn as he waves off his teacher. 
“That’s not important! But what do I do, Nanamin?” the blond haired teacher raised an eyebrow. 
“It’s not hard to know what to do, Itadori. It’s what you should have done. Tell her how you feel,” and then you’re walking back to the car, “come on, let’s get back. We’re close now.” 
And your gaze avoids his own when Yuji watches you get back in the car, and his lips part as if to stop you — but he doesn’t. 
Not yet. 
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You stood with Yuji as he tended to his parents’ graves. Simple stones that he was able to put in with time from his part time jobs, ones he had insisted he would pay for himself — refusing any help from anyone, even you. You knelt down, helping him clear the strewn dead leaves, brushing away dirt and snow — your fingers brushing when you both reach for the same place. 
And your eyes meet, as both of your fingers intertwine slowly — the three of you pay your respects, and Nanami finally stands. 
“I’ll wait for you two at the car,” Nanami says with a nod, leaving the two of you alone. You both already had placed offerings at their graves, arranging them slowly, as the two of you stand, the silence of the cemetery hanging overhead — light streaming in between clouds in the overcast sky, the sounds of the wind rustling the trees the only thing in the quiet. 
“Thank you for coming,” Yuji says softly, and your blink, eyes sliding to his. 
“You never have to thank me for that, Yuji,” you squeeze his hand, “as long as you want me to come, I’ll always be here. And I’ll always pay my respects to your parents, regardless of that,” you say, and that's exactly why you had to stop with him. You couldn’t bear to lose him — lose this, not when he’s lost too much and he was too much for you to lose, “come on, we should get back to the car,” as you pull your hand away from his. 
And maybe things could get back to normal. 
“I know,” and he doesn’t move as you turn to leave, “and that’s why I love you,” 
And you smile, “I love you too—“ 
“I don’t mean it like that,” and you freeze a moment, his words barely processing before he continues to speak, “I mean I do love you in that way too — but that’s not how I meant it now,” he says, as you turn to face him — not finding a hint of humor on his expression. 
“Yuji—“ your brain can barely process your best friend confessing to you — much less next to his parents’ graves— “should we be having this conversation—“ 
“It’s the perfect place to have this conversation,” he glances around at all of the graves, and he’s shaking his head, “maybe not the perfect place, but—“ his gaze softens when he finds yours, “you saved me,” 
“Yuji—“ 
“No, you did. After my parents died,” he stares at the stones side by side — “I could barely function. I barely wanted to do anything but sleep — but you, you pulled me out of bed. You made me go places. You made me smile again,” he says, “but that’s not the reason I fell in love with you,” his lips curl into a soft smile, “it’s because it’s you — your smile, your laugh, your being — it reminded me of happiness existed, and then I realized you were the only person who could make me happy the way you do,” 
“Yuji—“ 
“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same. But I don’t want to lose you, lose this chance to tell you how I feel, to tell you—“ 
“Yuji—“ 
“And I’ve always loved you — there’s never been—“ and you’re hugging him, before you even know you are, your arms are around his middle, face buried in his chest, as he murmurs your name. 
“The only reason I broke it off was,” your voice wavers despite your efforts to force it to stay even, “I didn’t to lose you by not being good enough—“ 
“You just have to be you,” his brow furrowed into the same valleys he teased you for, “you’re all I need,” his hand finds your cheek, guiding your gaze to his, “how could you think you weren’t enough?”
“You don’t tell how you feel sometimes — you don’t tell me what you’re thinking, I didn’t even know you had nightmares—“ you break off, “what if we continued this and you realized you deserved better than me? And it was already too late for me because I love—“ you break off. 
“You what?” he asks, and you’re biting your lip, “I’ll say it again if it will make you—“ 
Fuck it. 
You lean up and press your lips to his, swallowing his words as your hand finds purchase on his shoulder. And it felt right. As it always did with Yuji. 
“I love you too,” you whisper against his lips, “I love you, in the same way you do,” 
“As a friend?” And your brow furrows, “kidding! Kidding—ow!” You’re smacking him playfully, before he catches both of your wrists and pulls you close, “does that mean I can call you mine?” 
“Or baby,” and he flushes, a cute pout on his lips, “what? Isn’t it—“ and he’s kissing you again, your heart leaping as he does, his hands sliding around your hips, “Yu-“ 
“And what’s my pet name? You still haven’t given me one—“ 
“Have some decorum,” a voice cuts through, and the two of you jump apart, as Nanami stands, glaring at the two of you, “come on, if you’re done paying your respects, then we should go home,” he sighs, rubbing his temples, “the dead shouldn’t have to put up with this.” 
Yuji’s cheeks are tomato red at this point — as he covers his face— but you only chuckle, your fingers intertwining with his, squeezing, “c’mon let’s go, and maybe I can give you a pet name when we get home,” and you both turn to face his parents, as you pay your respects and head down the path a little. 
Yuji faces his parents, kneeling down to say goodbye again — and he remembers how it was their idea to set up Yuji to have a playdate with you, all those years ago. And now, here you were — the most important person in his life. 
“Thank you for everything you did for me,” and he glances at you over his shoulder as he gets up, “especially for helping me find her.” 
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“Yu-ji—“ you gasp, as he’s tugging you into your bedroom, bumping himself carelessly into the wall as he guides you both to your bedroom. You giggle as he presses you against the wall outside your room, “I text you my parents are going out for dinner and this is how you greet me? What happened to hello—“ 
His lips crash against yours and you forget about ‘hello’ and just about every other word in your head. Your lips curl against his lips, as his body cages you against the wall. It had been a few days since you and Yuji had been able to have a moment alone—Nanami was watching you both cautiously, while your parents had been keeping you busy at home, seeing family or cleaning up around the house. And Yuji was growing increasingly desperate for some time with you — that wasn’t hidden brushes of fingers under the table or stolen kisses out of sight from family or friends. 
“I missed you so much, baby,” he’s murmuring — and you didn’t know it was so possible to look like a kicked puppy so much until you met Yuji, “can’t believe Nanami was so mean and kept making us keep the door open—“ 
“It didn’t help that he walked in us making out on your bed three times—“ and a moan escapes your lips as he kisses your neck, teeth grazing against your racing pulse, “fuck, Yu—“ 
“How do you always taste so good?” he mumbles against you as he leads you inside your bedroom and shuts the door. His eyes glance around your childhood room, as he takes in the childhood posters plastered on the walls, the untouched books, the stuffed animals from a millennium ago that still lined your bed. 
“My family has not changed much here for years,” your cheeks burn, as he only chuckles, walking you backwards into your bed, and you climb into the bed, only grabbing a stuffed animal from behind you, “remember this?” 
He snorts, as he takes the stuffed penguin from your hands, “How could I forget? I tried a million times to win this,” 
You tilt your head, “You said you won it your first try—“ and you gasp as he looks away, cheeks flushed, “you were trying to impress me,” 
“Not that much,” and you’re leaning closer, brushing your lips against his, “maybe just a little,” you kiss him more insistently this time, sliding against his, fingers curling in his soft strands, “maybe too much,” and you smirk, noses bumping as your lips find each other’s again and again. 
And your fingers slide down to drag his shirt up and over, freeing his chest and abs to your sight — and what a sight it is. So toned and tanned from his American football practices in the sun — perfect for your fingers and lips to explore the peaks and valleys of his body, hands already far too eager.
He returns the favor by lifting your own shirt off in an instant, groaning when he finds you wearing nothing underneath — your eyes can’t help but flit down and find his erection already tenting in his sweatpants. 
“Fuck, baby, you’re so perfect,” his eager hands are already teasing and palming you breasts, a whimper drawn out by his precise pinches and touches, “so good for me,” and your hands drag down his chest, leaning down to press kisses to his chest as your fingers trace along his abs, making him groan. 
He’s pouting, after he pulls you into another kiss, “it’s not fair,” he mumbles into the side of your neck, “I feel like I’m always the one who’s more nervous than you are,” 
You chuckle, kissing his jaw, “I felt the same way, why do you think I touched you on our TV marathon that night?” 
And he’s blinking, as you lay back on the bed for him, “you didn’t know—“ you shake your head. 
“You had offered to help get experience, and even when we had done things, you were just so…normal,” he chuckles, before laying beside you. 
“I had some practice acting normal around you, but I really didn’t. I think you nearly gave me a heart attack that night,” and you grin, drawing so close that you even feel the hitch of his breath. 
“That good, huh?” You tease, and it only takes a moment until he’s hovering over you, lust pooled in his gaze that lights a fire on your body wherever it lays. 
And his lips meet yours right after he whispers, “I’ll show you good.” 
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“One more, baby,” Yuji tells you, but you barely hear it through the haze of pleasure and heat that fills the room, along with the sounds of the squelch of his fingers in your tight cunt, “just need one more,” 
And how many times had he made you orgasm already? You’d lost count — five or six at least. The first had taken some time, working his finger into your weeping slit, the way your walls stretch around him make you wonder how good it will feel when he fucks you. It’s not long before he’s sinking another finger in, the sounds and feelings of his digits curling is enough to bring you to orgasm. And the rest are a blur — another finger in your tight entrance, fucking you open as he toyed with your walls, until you came again and again. 
And now he bent down, lips around your clit, teasing and sucking at the sensitive bud, as your fingers curled in his pink locks as the lewd moans fell from your mouth with ease. You’re so close — so fucking close, and when his fingertips brush against that spot and it’s all too much. 
You cum around his fingers and mouth, his name on your lips as you do, back arching against him, as he eases his fingers from your cunt. He licks his fingers clean as your eyes flutter open to meet his, “You taste so good, baby — you’re perfect,” and you watch as his tongue flicks out to clean his lips and chin of your sticky release. 
And soon enough he’s kissing you, hand cupping your cheek, letting you taste yourself on his lips, as your fingers drag over his bare chest and follow his happy trail into the elastic of his boxers. A soft moan leaves his kiss ruined lips, as his eyes are lidded with lust, soft pants against your skin. 
“Is this a dream?” Yuji murmurs, his lips ghosting along your jaw, “never thought we would get here,” and you turn your head to meet his lips in another sweet kiss. 
“It isn’t, we’re here. Took us long enough,” your lips curl, your fingers tracing over his cheek, “and nowhere else I rather be — or no one else I rather be with,” 
“You sure?” And you’ve flipped him over, kissing down his body, fingers tugging at the elastic of his boxers until his dick is freed from the fabric, “fuck, baby, you don’t have—“ 
And his words are cut off with a grunt as your fingers grazes his erection, teasing his weeping head. You start to pump up and down, working the thick beads of precum over his length, his head falling back. 
“How’s your cock so pretty, Yu?” you coo, blowing air over his dick, making him twitch in your hand, “never thought one of these would ever be so pretty,” you let his length slap against your tongue, slowly dragging it down your 
He hisses, hands grasping at the sheets, as you bend down to flick his tongue against the head of his cock. Your lips close around it, and suck, raising the back of his hand to cover his mouth, “fuck, s’good, baby, I—“ 
And you’re letting his cock sink past your lips, your tongue flicking against his slit. Your eyes find his own, as you hollow out your cheeks and sucking hard, and his hips buck into your mouth. His tip brushes against your throat, and you’re moaning around him, your fingers cup his balls, nails digging into your scalp. 
“Baby, fuck, I’m close—where—“ and he’s trying to ease you off, but your hands only hold his hips in place. Your nose brushing against his pubes. And when you’re suck hard on his tip, toying with his sack, only for him to moan your name, before cumming down your throat, his hot release painting your insides. 
You’re slowly pulling off his dick, a string of cum and spit connecting your lips to his cock, a smile on your face. You swallow his release, the salty taste still on your lips as you watch him pant, chest rising and falling. 
“Taste so good, Yu,” you murmur, and you’re moving back up to kiss him, “think I’m addicted,” you murmur, as your lips find each other again and again. 
“Now you know how I feel,” he smiles, fingers running through your hair, “been addicted to you for over a decade,” and he’s sitting up, guiding you into his lap slowly, “we can always stop right here, we don’t have—“ 
You kiss him softly, the way he deserved, the way you’ve wanted to for so long, “I want to, Yuji, I really want to,” your fingers intertwine with his, squeezing his hand, his arm slipping around your waist, “because I love you,” 
And your fingers grasp his hardening cock, pressing it to your dripping slit, and god, he’s so fucking big. You knew how big he was, but just feeling him pressed against you makes you ache at how he’ll be stretching you out. He drags his dripping tip against your slit, letting your cum mix together, letting his head catch on your clit. 
Finally, you’re sinking onto him, his thick length parting your walls, inch by inch. Your head falls back, as he leans into your touch, watching you flinch at the stretch, “you okay?” Yuji’s pressing sweet kisses to your lips and cheek, “should I stop—“ 
“No, no, I’m fine, it’s starting to feel good,” your arms wrapping around his neck, burying your face in the crook of his neck, “ and he’s helping you sink into him, until finally your hips are flush to his, “fuck, Yu—you’re so deep—“ his cock twitches against your walls, a shiver up his spine at your words. 
And he’s panting, his lips pressed to your shoulder, “you feel s’good, baby — so wet and warm—“ you smile, cupping his cheek, “can’t believe this is real — can’t believe—“ 
“It’s real, Yuji, it’s real,” your lips curl into a smile, “I’m here, I love you,” 
“I love you too, I love you so much,” he kisses you again and again, as he shifts slowly under you, swallowing a gasp that leaves your lips. 
“Please, Yuji, move—“ and he obliges, beginning to fuck into you, and your head falls back, as his cock rocks into you, a moan falling from your lips as you do. He’s groaning your name again and again, a grunt when you begin to ride him in tandem, both of your thrusts sending him deeper into you. 
“Baby, fuck, you’re perfect. You’re so good f’me,” his lips finding your neck, as his strokes become faster and deeper, the sounds of your skin slapping together rings in your ears as he fucks you harder and harder, “g’nna cum, s’close,“ 
“I’m close too,” you’re panting as his lips find yours in a sloppy, messy kiss that has you losing yourself more and more, as his thrusts become more and more swallow. And when he finds your clit between your bodies, rubbing as he finds that one spot that has you seeing stars, “Yuji- I’m—“ 
And you cum hard around him, soaking his cock and thighs as you do, walls squeezing him tight until he’s spilling his warm seed inside you. You slow as you do, legs quivering, as you nearly slump against him and he holds you impossibly closer. He helps you both detangle, easing his softening cock from inside you, a small groan as he sees your mixed releases leaking from you. He helps you lie back, as he wraps his arms around you, running his fingers through your hair. 
“Are you okay?” he whispers, brow furrowed in slight worry as your eyes flutter open, lips curling as your fingers smooth the wrinkles of his forehead. 
“I’d be better if you’d kiss me,” you whisper and he obliges, a soft kiss to your lips that leaves you warmer than you were before, “now I’m perfect,” 
“You always were,” and you chuckle, rolling your eyes, before shaking your head, burying your face in the crook of his neck. 
“No, that’s because I had an excellent teacher,” and he laughs, before he pulls you even closer, finding your lips in a kiss. 
“And you always will.” 
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“Come on, Fushiguro, pay up,” Nobara holds out her hand, as Megumi glares, pulling out his wallet and plucking money from his wallet and handing it to her. 
“You cheated,” he says as she snatches the money, counting it with a grin on her lips, “I don’t know what you did, but I know you did,” 
“You never said we couldn’t give them advice,” she grins, as she pockets his money, “and all I did was give Yuji a nudge, he’s the one who fucked—“ 
“Alright,” Megumi rubs his temples, “I get it, but it’s still unfair — we’ve been waiting for them to get together all these years and all of sudden he gets the idea to become her friends with benefits—“ and Nobara only grins wider, “you didn’t—“ 
She shrugs, “you can wait around for two idiots to figure it out, or you can shove them off the deep end.” 
“I knew you cheated,” Megumi grumbles, “that’s the last time I ever make a bet with you, Kugisaki,” 
And she smirks, “Well now you’ve been taught a lesson too.” 
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✧ a/n: another celebration fic done! now just one more and then i can start preparing for the next follower celebration :). i've settled on using wips but i'll pick out a bunch of prompts for you all to request for certain ones. that way, you all have had a hand in them <3. thank you to laney for helping beta <3.
✧ taglist: @adrenova, @nakariabnrb, @skvllknight, @hanlay, @spider-fan72, @anonimusunnoaniswriting, @chososcamgirl, @thenezuko, @catsgomurp, @too-much-snow, @sashaiko, @forest-fruits-jam, @rita-ritarita, @anyaeuh, @dezznuggetsblog, @jayathelostdragon, @newspapergirlmal, @2livelaughlovefictionalmen2, @being-me-is-not-a-sin, @xoocii, @firelordazulaaaa, @cira273, @twosec0nd, @ororomunroro, @sunamatic, @withoutanameyet, @gojorgeous, @masctomboy805, @hantaslittlearsonist, @lemonpoppy-seed, @malmare, @teraine, @boopadoopa333, @jeyughh, @coffeebun17, @faeryli, @katienaps, @tojbitch, @fushitoru, @soulofoz, @yamaguccitadashi
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gurugirl · 3 days
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Sex Tutor
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Summary: Harry's got a reputation on campus and you're curious to know if he can help you.
A/N: Requested! Thank y'all for being patient with me! Hope you enjoy! This will be 2 parts!!
Word Count: 10k
Warning: smut (oral sex), fluff, praise kink
. . .
“Yeah… that was good. I liked it.”
That wasn’t the reaction you were hoping to get. You thought Gunther would be a lot more enthusiastic after coming in your mouth and you swallowing him down. You gave it your best work. You even choked a couple of times and you did hear him moan once or twice. But that didn’t feel like enough
You wanted to ask him exactly what went wrong. Tips on what he liked and didn’t. What you could do better next time… But instead, he just smiled and kissed your cheek, avoiding your mouth because obviously kissing the lips that had just sucked his cock would be gross.
So you left his dorm feeling a little disappointed in yourself. Annoyed really. You wished you were more bold and could just ask him what he wanted, what he liked most. You complained to your roommate even. She loved giving advice so you were always venting to her.
“Well, you know there’s like this guy on campus who will walk you through that kind of thing… a sex tutor if you will. Let’s just say that he comes highly recommended. I know someone who hung out with him a few times, and she learned so much about her body and how good sex could feel without coming but he always made her come every time, and no man has ever done that to her before she told me.”
“A tutor for blow jobs?” You scrunched your face and giggled.
“Well, blow jobs and everything else really. I don’t know. He gets around and they say he’s very knowledgeable about the body and sex. I think he’s like getting his masters in sexual health or something?”
You shoved at her shoulder and laughed, “Oh my god I don’t think so. That sounds crazy. He’s probably some weird pervert or something.”
Your roommate turned her cellphone screen to face you, showing you an Instagram page with a photo of a very attractive young man you’d seen on campus a time or two.
“That’s him?” Your eyes widened as you looked from the photo to your roommate.
“Yup. He’s not a weirdo either. I hear he’s super respectful and smart. Plus the bonus is that he looks like this.”
You nodded. That certainly was a bonus. Harry Styles. You knew about him from the student council. He did a lot of volunteering on campus and he was a graduate student so you didn’t know him all that well, being only a sophomore yourself, but it was hard not to at least know the name and the face. He was popular. Clearly far more popular than you even realized.
And you definitely weren’t going to reach out for a “session”. That just felt silly. Though, you couldn’t say you weren’t intrigued by the idea, it just wasn’t for you. Except that when Gunther didn’t text or call you back for three full days, the whole time you wondered if your blow job was that bad. So when he did finally text you back to make plans for the following week, you felt like you were being given another chance to prove how good you could be. And maybe a lesson or two could be useful.
Reaching out to him via DMs on Instagram felt so unserious but you still did it. You cringed as you hit send and read over your message three times.
Hi! I heard you give special “tutoring” sessions and wanted to know if you have some time to meet with me to set something up? Let me know if it’s okay.
You couldn’t believe you were doing this, reaching out to a stranger for, basically, a booty call. But apparently he was used to it and had no qualms about responding to you in less than thirty minutes. As if he was running some kind of business.
Hi! Happy to meet up with you either tonight or Friday night. The initial meeting should only take like 20 minutes, somewhere public so you feel comfortable. I’ll ask you a few questions and then we’ll set up a private one-on-one session together if it makes sense for both of us. No pressure ever. Whenever you’re ready.
Private one-on-one session. You rolled your eyes as you read over Harry’s response.
Tonight is good for me if you can fit me in. Whatever time you want.
You didn’t know what to expect. You imagined he was cocky since he was apparently so good and sought after. Perhaps he would take one look at you and turn around. You were sure he had a say in who he “tutored”. Doubted he took on every single person who reached out to him.
Your roommate said he was respectful but you would place money on the fact that he was probably full of himself, being that he was a self-proclaimed Sex Guru. You were preparing yourself for someone with a larger-than-life personality.
You kept your outfit casual, not wanting to look like you were trying too hard. Jeans and a hoodie. Though you did shower and put on nice panties and made sure you smelled good. Just in case. One never knows when they are due to visit with a sex tutor.
Maud’s was one of your favorite spots on campus. They had the best iced matcha latte and that’s just what you ordered yourself when you arrived. You sat down at a small table and faced toward the door so you could keep an eye out.
You were looking down at your cell phone when you heard the chime of the door. Flitting your eyes up and away from the screen of your phone you scanned the entry and spotted him right away.
He was wearing a black pullover hoodie and jeans. His hair all tousled like he’d just finished a “tutoring” session. You raised your hand to wave at him and catch his attention and he grinned as you stood up but he gestured for you to stay seated, “I’ll be right back. Just gonna order a drink.”
You were already feeling hot and embarrassed. God, what were you doing? The man was sex on legs and that deep, raspy voice he just spoke to you with had your insides twisting and turning all mushy.
When he returned he had an iced tea and he sat across from you. The smile on his face was kind. Open. It set you at ease a bit.
He took a sip through his straw and you noted the rings on his fingers and the nail polish on his nails, “So, Y/n. It’s nice to meet you in person. What are you majoring in?”
Okay. Small talk. You could handle that.
You told him your classes and what you were majoring in and then asked him the same and when he explained he was going for his doctorate in psychology with the intent to become a sex therapist you felt your heart thump wildly. He was gorgeous and going for a doctorate. The man was so beyond out of your league that you wondered why he was even sitting at that table with you entertaining this silly request of yours.
“Wow. That’s… I’m impressed.”
He grinned and you saw a dimple carve into his cheek, “Thank you. I’ve worked really hard to get where I am. Still working, though. So let’s talk about what you want. What things are you interested in getting some guidance on?”
Here it was. The moment you’d been dreading. But also what you were most curious about.
“Well, I’m seeing this guy and,” you took a breath. It was embarrassing to say it so casually at a café on campus of all places.
Harry reached toward you and placed his warm palm over the top of yours, “Hey, I know this feels weird. Doing this. I’m not going to pressure you to say it if you find it’s too uncomfortable but just know,” he dipped his head down to meet your gaze with his brows gently raised, “Everything you tell me here will be kept confidential and private. I’m not going to make fun of you or compare you to anyone else. If you change your mind, that’s okay too. I want you to feel like you’re talking to a friend. Okay? It’s up to you how much or how little you say. We move at your pace.”
You let out the breath you were holding and smiled. He was so – nice. He made you feel so at ease.
“Thank you. It’s weird. Yeah… but I think I’m okay. I want to do this. I want to be better at like,” you looked around yourself and lowered your voice as Harry moved his hand from yours and you settled your gaze back on his, “Better at giving blow jobs. And maybe like initiating more?”
He nodded, “Okay. Have you ever given a blow job before?”
You nodded, “Recently. The guy didn’t seem very enthusiastic about it so I didn’t know if I did something wrong.”
He took a sip of his tea and his green irises bored into yours, “I can tell you one thing I know that is true for nearly every single male I know; they love getting head. Even if he wasn’t vocal he probably really enjoyed whatever you did. Does that make you feel better about your skill level?”
You puffed out a laugh and saw the smirk on his face. He was trying to get you to smile, “I don’t know. Probably. I’m sure I’m overthinking it but I just wanted… like I want to be really good. Want to know tricks to get a real response.”
“Did the guy you’re seeing orgasm?”
You nodded again.
Harry’s grin softened, “Then you did as good as you could have. Goal achieved. He orgasmed and you made that happen.”
“But I want to be better. Like… I really enjoyed what I was doing. Made me really… well…” you looked down at your empty mug and sighed, “I felt like I enjoyed it more than he did.”
He nodded and licked his lips and if you didn’t know any better you’d say he was kind of checking you out. You weren’t wearing anything revealing but he seemed to keep dropping his gaze to your lips and neck. But you figured that was because he was still getting used to your face and he was sussing you out a bit to see if he wanted anything to do with you beyond this conversation.
But that was true. He was checking you out. He saw your Instagram pictures before he contacted you (always his first step) and thought you were cute and wouldn’t mind seeing you in person. He certainly wasn't disappointed by you when he saw you either. You were cute and a little nervous and when you started talking about how you enjoyed giving that loser a blow job he couldn’t help but shift his eyes down to your mouth and imagine what your lips would look like on his cock. He wondered if you’d be just as eager to suck him off as you seemed like you were for the other guy.
Now, Harry was a polite and nice man. He was as respectful as they came. But he was still a man with a very high sex drive and he couldn’t help it. He did enjoy having sex and he got a lot of ass because he was good at what he did. And he was under no allusion that it also didn’t have anything to do with how attractive he was. Because of course, it did. He was aware of the way women looked at him and all the whispers about him on campus. And most of the time the sessions were just fun sex more than anything else. However, he happily gave guidance when needed.
And this time he was feeling pretty gung-ho to see what you could do. He’d like to get started right away, which normally he’d wait until after the initial meeting before jumping into it but there was something about the way you were looking at him, your eyes hungry and inviting…
You watched Harry shift in his chair and look around the café before he looked back at you, “What are you doing right now? Like after this?”
“Oh… nothing. Was gonna read a little, prep for a test I have on Monday. But…” you shook your head.
“Would you be interested in going somewhere more private? My studio is at the off-campus university apartments. Twenty-minute walk from here.”
Was he…? You scrunched your brows, confused at the sudden invite to his place.
“It’s up to you. I’m not rushing you or anything I just have a free evening and you seem really enthusiastic and I’d like to kind of get a feel for what we’re working with. If you think you’re ready.”
You nodded, “Okay. I mean… yeah. So no roommates?” You laughed nervously as he stood up and it was the first time you let your attention fall to the space at his crotch, to which you quickly bobbed your eyes back up to his face as you stood.
“Nope. Co-ed apartments. No roommate. Super private.” He didn’t miss the way you scraped your eyes over his torso and down to the spot on his jeans where his zipper was.
So that was that then. You’d be getting a lesson sooner than you imagined. And when you walked the twenty minutes through campus and the street that was just adjacent to the cafeteria you could almost hear your heart pounding. He was taller than you expected. He easily kept the conversation alive with small talk. He seemed so confident and easygoing. You tried to let that charisma and charm soak through your veins so that you weren’t as nervous as you felt, but it was impossible. You were about to go into Harry Style’s apartment alone and probably give him a blow job.
Harry waved at a few people on your way up to his floor. He was clearly popular. You wondered if anyone knew what might be happening. Why you were with him and why you were following behind him like you were a pup being trained and he was carrying a treat.
“Here she is,” he opened his door and gestured for you to walk inside. Neat and tidy with stacks of books and lots of plants. Some plants hanging, most potted, and on the floor or on tables. You noted he had no television and that there was a big partition that separated the small living space from what was probably where he had his bed. The kitchen was organized with open shelving and he’d bought a wire rack and it was stacked full of packaged foods, spices, oil, and other things to cook with at the top and at the bottom with pots and pans and a blender with its cord neatly wrapped around the base.
He excused himself to the bathroom while you looked around. There wasn’t anywhere to go really. There were two doors in the whole place. The bathroom door and another one, which you assumed was a closet. The kitchen area was open to the small living space.
When Harry emerged he sat down on the couch, which looked well-worn. You wondered how many people he’d had over and on that very couch. He sat with his legs spread and drew his arms over the back of the couch and just watched as you stepped in closer toward the small coffee table, “I like all the plants,” you commented.
He nodded and you clasped your hands behind your back in wait for what would happen next. You didn’t want to look again at his crotch. But the way he was sitting made it hard. He took up so much space on that couch and with his legs spread open like they were, it was almost as if he wanted you to.
“Gonna sit with me? I’m not gonna do anything if you don’t want.”
You nodded and sat down, keeping your limbs close to your body and separate from him. You didn’t want to invade his space or get in too close. Not yet anyway. Not until he invited you. Or rather, until he told you what to do next.
“Everything I said at Maud’s still stands. If you change your mind that’s fine. I’m not going to be mad.”
You turned to look at him and swallowed. The guy was out of this world. Simply delicious looking. “Okay.” You spoke in barely above a whisper.
Harry leaned forward, putting his elbows over his knees as he kept his eyes on you, “Is this how you usually initiate?”
You raised your brows and shook your head, “What?”
“You said you wanted to be better at initiating. So far, I’m not getting any signals that you’re interested. Could be your first problem. Try relaxing a little, Y/n. Sit back and unhook your fingers. Loosen your shoulders. Not only will you feel more settled, but you’ll make the person with you feel better too. Which could push you to naturally begin conversation or movements that encourage contact.”
“Oh. Okay,” you sat back into his couch and loosed your hands, relaxing your posture, and looked at him, “Like this?”
Harry grinned and let out a small laugh, “Perfect. Now at least it appears you’re not scared of me.”
“I’m not scared,” you quickly shook your head.
“I didn’t think you were. But your body language was giving closed-off signals. Which could appear to some like fear or discomfort.”
It made sense you guessed.
“I see. So, relax and it makes everyone feel better.”
He grinned, “So tell me what normally happens when you’re with someone and it leads to something sexual. Set the scene for me.”
You cleared your throat and decided to use your last time with Gunther as the example.
“Well, we were in his dorm room listening to music and laughing about something–“
“Back up a little. Did you invite yourself to his room? Did he invite you? What happened before you got to his room?”
“Oh, uh…” you pursed your lips in thought. “Well, we were out with two mutual friends. At a bar. Gunther, his name is Gunther, he was kind of flirting with me and I liked it. We didn’t really know each other all that well before but I always found him interesting. And so… he was flirting with me. Complimenting me. Things like that. Then he asked me to go back to his room with him. So, I sort of figured something would happen,” you shrugged. You didn’t know why it was so weird telling him all those details but it was.
You recounted how Gunther had made all the moves; kissed you first, groped you and then somehow it ended up with you sucking him off while he laid back on his bed and you were between his legs.
“And… he didn’t return the favor? Like you didn’t get anything?”
You shook your head, “I mean, I didn’t ask. He got off and then that was it really. I left not long after.”
Harry frowned, “Okay. And did you hope he’d do something in return? Like, use his hands or his mouth on you? Did you want more?”
Another shrug of your shoulders, “I mean… I didn’t expect it. Thought maybe next time we could do more? I don’t know.”
“You didn’t expect it. But would you have liked it?”
Nodding your head you looked away from his eyes, “I guess.”
“Did it turn you on?”
Another embarrassing thing to admit to someone you hardly knew. You nodded again, “It just all happened really quickly. I kind of thought things would take longer and we’d chat and maybe he’d have me stay longer and then… well anyway. It was like a total of thirty minutes or something that I was in his room.”
Harry sighed and crossed his leg over his thigh toward you, “And you really want to give Gunther the best head you can? The guy who wasn’t worried about your own needs? Seems very selfless of you, Y/n.”
You let out a breath and laughed, “I know. I just want to be good at it. And that was the first time we did anything so I figured I’d give him a pass.”
“That’s very thoughtful of you. Gunther is lucky you’re still willing to give him another shot.”
“I guess I thought if I was better he’d want to do it more and maybe then we could do other things too.”
“I’m going to be honest, Y/n,” Harry stretched his arm across the back of the couch, “You’re very cute and you probably won’t need to worry much about initiating most of the time. Like, for me, all you have to do is look at me with those pretty eyes and I’m ready to do whatever you want me to.”
It had been a surprise to hear that. You weren’t sure what to do with that information but you couldn’t help but smile to yourself as you looked down at your lap.
“But a good start is to keep eye contact. At least enough to indicate interest. Can you look at me?”
Lifting your gaze to his he grinned, “There we go. So pretty.”
You shook your head, “I’m sure you say that to everyone.”
Harry lifted his hand to your cheekbone, “No. I don’t. And I don’t do this with just anyone either. Sometimes I turn down a request. I don’t tell them why but… There’s gotta be attraction on my end as well. And I find you very attractive, Y/n.”
You swallowed down the saliva in your throat and blinked for a break in eye contact before biting your lip.
“Now, even though we’re here for one thing, I do have opinions on matters of the heart and relationships. And frankly, I have to be honest about this Gunther, guy,” he dropped his hand, making his fingers brush down your cheek until he was no longer touching you, “I don’t like that he didn’t offer to get you off too. That’s a big red flag in my book. I feel it’s important to give and to receive unless it’s explicitly stated at the beginning. But you told me you thought you’d get more. And that bothers me.”
“Well, he’s a nice guy. I think he just wasn’t thinking…”
“He wasn’t thinking about your needs. That was selfish of him and something to watch out for. We can give him a pass for the first time, but if you see him again and he still doesn’t think about your needs, I’d hope you’d end that relationship and seek someone who’s willing to be less selfish with you.”
It surprised you that Harry was saying that about Gunther. But perhaps he was right. You did leave his dorm that night quite disappointed.
“I don’t want to make you feel uncomfortable. I know you barely know me but that’s just my take. I’d never not offer to return the favor,” he kept his eyes on yours and you swore his lips were suddenly a shade darker. They looked like the perfect lips to kiss.
He grinned when he noted where your eyes were homed in on, “Do you mind coming closer? Feels like you're still too far away.”
You puffed out a nervous laugh as you scooted your bottom in closer toward Harry. His arm was draped over the back of the couch behind you and you felt the warmth of him before you felt his fingers graze the back of your neck.
 “So, I can kiss you? Can we start there?”
You breathed out through your nose and smiled as you nodded and kept your face angled toward his. He watched as you hesitantly put your palm on his knee and he put his hand over yours, “You’re a natural. See?”
Another soft laugh fell from your mouth as Harry’s face drew in closer to yours and your heart stopped as he nudged his nose into yours and you felt his soft lips smush against yours.
It didn’t take long for you to start feeling that familiar heat between your legs as he ran his tongue against yours. It felt so intimate… not like a tutor lesson or anything of the sort. It was you and a handsome man making out on his couch as he pulled you onto his lap. It felt real.
For some reason, you imagined it being a little more dry. Like a real lesson. Like he’d pull his pants down and tell you what to do and show you what he liked and what really made men go wild. You hadn’t imagined kissing being part of the equation for some reason.
“Did he tell you how soft your lips are or how those sweet little noises coming from your mouth drove him crazy?”
He spoke his words between kisses and you were going to pass out. Because no, Gunther gave you no compliments once you got into his dorm room.
You shook your head as you parted from the kiss, your eyes on his.
Harry’s eyes roved your face as he softly dragged his thumb back and forth on your jaw, “I don’t like him one bit. You deserve someone who’s going to tell you how good you are and how good you make them feel.”
He softly pressed his lips against yours again, the kiss heating up into a frenzied pace once again as you stuffed your fingers into his hair and then you felt the bulk of his erection under your thigh when you moved in closer.
Parting from the kiss you looked down and then back up at him and he just smiled. Like it was the most normal and natural thing ever. Which… it kind of was.
“Got me all hard already,” he slid his thumb from the edge of your bottom lip inward and you moaned, “Just like that. You’re already better than you think you are. You’re driving me crazy, Y/n. I want to see what these lips look like wrapped around my cock. Can we do that?”
You nodded and began to move off of him but Harry took your hand in his, making you pause, “I’ll let you get me off if you let me get you off too. Okay?”
Your eyes widened, “Really? I thought this was just for–“
“I have a method and it always includes getting the other person off too. Or at least making them feel good. Unless you don’t want that. That’s okay too, but I would prefer to touch you as well.”
“Okay,” your words were breathy as he helped you off his lap, keeping your hand in his but then he stood up and you watched as he ran his free hand over his crotch, “Is it okay if we do it my bed? A little more space there. Think it’ll feel less rushed.”
Obviously yes. You wouldn’t dream of saying no to this man. Not that you wanted to.
The space behind the partition was just a bed and one side table. His bed was neatly made and there was a plant hanging by the opening of the partition. He gestured for you to follow him onto his mattress and he placed his back at the wall, where he had no headboard.
Kneeing up to him you were feeling shy again and he leaned forward and cupped your face with one hand, “You’re doing so good. If you need to stop at any time just say the word. I’m not here to make you do something you don’t want. Okay?”
You nodded, “Yeah. I know. I trust you.”
“Good. Just wanted to remind you is all. I don’t want you to feel like you have to keep going even if I’m enjoying it, which I have a feeling I’m gonna like whatever you do to me.”
You giggled and nodded. He was fluffing up your ego and you hadn’t even really gotten started yet.
Harry started to push his jeans down, lifted his hips to get them off his legs, and then kept his eyes on you as he held his hand out for you to take, “Come here.”
You put your hand in his and let yourself get pulled between his legs as you looked down at the sizable lump under his boxer briefs, “Can we take your jeans off? Kind of want to have you in my lap a little while before we get down to it, yeah?”
You nodded and unhooked your button before pulling your zipper down. Harry’s hands found your hips as you tugged your jeans down and he helped you out of them, leaving you in just your hoodie and panties. Like Harry. He was just in his boxer briefs and his hoodie too.
You crawled into his lap, your thighs straddling his, and sat down as Harry smoothed his hands up and down your thighs, “There we go. This feels nice, having you close like this,” he ran his palms toward your bottom and then back down your thighs to your knees, “How are you feeling?”
You put your palms on his shoulders, “Good. Feel good. And you?”
“I’m feeling great. I’ve got you here in my lap,” he brought a hand up from your thigh to your face, his fingers sliding behind your ear with his thumb at your cheekbone, “And I like you. I think this’ll be fun. Just want you to feel at ease with me.”
You shifted on his lap, getting in closer, “I do feel at ease with you, Harry. You’re really nice.”
“Good. That’s what I want to hear,” his voice was soft as he gently pulled you towards him and pressed his mouth against yours again. His kiss was soft and sultry. Harry was far more sensual than you imagined he would be. Lots of soft touches and reassuring words. And his mouth against yours was addictive.
You moaned when his thumb ran along the edge of your panties at your thigh and you rocked your hips down, pressing your panties-covered pussy over his erection.
He inhaled softly through his teeth and lowered his mouth to your neck where you were melted into him. His warm mouth sponged wet kisses down your pulse point as you lowered a hand to the top of his cock.
He sighed when you began to rub your palm over him and you began to move back. You were ready to get him in your mouth.
“You can bring me out if you want. Or I can do it. Whichever you’re more comfortable with.”
You bit your lip and continued palming over him as you kept your gaze focused on his, “I’ll do it. Do guys like that more?”
He grinned and the dimples that carved into his cheeks had you swooning, “Yeah. Maybe. Depends on the guy but it can feel like the girl is really excited, like she can’t wait – the enthusiasm is nice. For me? I do like it more. But honestly, I wouldn’t complain if you wanted me to do it myself.”
You nodded in understanding as you focused on the dark green material of his underwear and reached toward the waistband. You looked up at him once more to check in and he just gave you a singular nod to keep going so you did.
The material was warm and stretchy. And you loved the way it felt to run your palm up the length of him, before peeling the fabric away and slowly revealing his cock. His tip was thick and smooth and dark pink. And then his shaft was girthy, quite meaty really, but so stiff. And when you’d pulled his underwear down far enough you took the whole of him in and it was… well it was a bit overwhelming. There was no way on God’s green earth you’d be able to stick that whole thing in your mouth.
“You don’t have to have it all in there. This isn’t a porno. I don’t need you to choke on it or anything like that. Use your hands and your mouth, as long as it’s nice and wet it’s gonna feel really good.”
You nodded. It was a relief that he wasn’t expecting you to deepthroat that thing, “Do you like it when someone can take it all the way?”
Harry breathed a laugh out of his nostrils, “Well… only if the person giving head likes that kind of thing. I would never enjoy it if someone wasn’t into that. But yes. I do rather like it. Not more than any other type of blow job, though.”
You gulped and continued palmed at his length softly. Harry kept his eyes on you to watch how you’d do it. To see what your go-to move was and when you made no move he finally spoke, “Go in however you want. Let’s see how you normally go about giving a blow job.”
“Okay. Yeah…” You took a deep breath and lowered yourself down as he fixed his feet flat on the mattress with knees bent upward, making space for you to fit between his thighs. First, you spat over his tip and used your hand to rub your saliva down his shaft. A quick glance up at him and he looked like he was enjoying it.
After spitting another glob over his slit that clung to your lips a little longer than it did the first time things were feeling much wetter. You stroked along the full length of his cock, from base to tip, tip to base, and back again as you lowered further, getting your lips just over his tip, and looked up at him, swiping your tongue over his crown. Smooth and warm. Adjusting your hips you got into a better position and gripped his base with both hands as you began to take him in your mouth. Your tongue cupped the underside of his cock as you dipped down and pulled up, suckling at his tip before repeating.
Harry’s fingers gently pushed at your chin, “I’d like you to do one thing for me, Y/n…” your eyes shot up to his, “Can you keep your eyes on me, just like you’re doing right now?”
You pulled off and nodded, “Yeah. Sorry.”
Harry tutted at you, “You didn’t do anything wrong. Just really fond of your pretty eyes. Personal preference is all.”
Keeping your gaze on his you kissed his tip softly and slowly before tonguing at his frenulum. It was a good thing you were looking at him in that moment because the expression on his face as you ran your tongue along the underside of his cockhead was lascivious and the sudden heat between you two might not have been noticed if you hadn’t been looking at him.
When you lowered your lips over him again, hollowing your cheeks and cupping the underside of his dick with your tongue, he palmed over your cheek and softly thumbed at your temple, “Y/n… fuck… that’s really good. Keep looking at me like this pretty girl.”
The soft touch from his hand and thumb on your face was full of affection and made your heart thunder in your chest. It made you dizzy the way he was looking at you. It was such a lewd act but somehow filled with tenderness.
The drool that leaked out of your mouth and down his shaft allowed your hands to slip around his base, twisting as you bobbed over the first bit of him with your mouth. It seemed like he was really enjoying what you were doing. Having your eyes on him while you were doing it felt more encouraging than embarrassing.
And Harry was very much enjoying what you were doing. He wasn’t all that picky when it came to getting blow jobs. Why would he be? Some hot girl wanted him to show her how to be better? Well, he rarely did much in the way of making someone any better than they already were.
Harry never intended to be known as a sex tutor or a sex guru. He was just a guy who loved sex. A guy who was patient and who really did care about the person he was with, even if it was just a one-time thing (which most of them were). And his line of studies gave him insight many lacked. The more he slept around (safely) the better he got and the more he understood. He put into practice the things he learned in his classes and when he was a Junior after a string of hookups with a group of very popular seniors he started to get a reputation.
It started with comments and discussions on the size of his cock. Then it eventually escalated to him being very good in bed. And how he could always make a woman come (he didn’t always make them come but he certainly tried and he learned the art of allowing sex to just be something that felt good and intimate and didn’t have to end in that elusive orgasm every time).
The first girl who was bold enough to ask him if he’d help her get to know her body better, had told him how she heard he was the best… and that had caught off guard. But he gave it a go. And he wound up enjoying the whole thing so much that when another girl asked him for help he decided there was no harm in going along with it.
He wasn’t trying to take advantage of anyone, as some jealous of his prowess would make it seem. No, he just really wanted to help, he loved that connection and to have it end with sex (in whatever form) was never a bad thing. Mostly he was just having fun and if he could use some of his knowledge and give someone confidence by the end of a “session” then so be it.
When you sucked around him, slurping noises came from between your lips and the skin on his shaft and he moaned, “Oh that’s good…” He gently placed a hand at the back of your neck and nudged his hips upward the slightest when he felt his cock start to throb and balls tightened.
Harry pulled at you to bring you up so you slid your lips from his tip and looked at him with pretty rounded eyes as you sat on your knees.
“You’re perfect. If I had you sucking me off like this every day I’d have no complaints. That’s the work of someone who’s into it and I can tell you are. Got me so close to coming already,” he took your hand and kissed the tops of your knuckles. Yeah, you were already smitten with him. But maybe that was just because you liked his praise so much.
“Thank you,” you grinned shyly.
Harry took the hand he kissed and brought it down between his legs, sliding your fingers on the underside of his balls, “There’s this spot right here. Kind of smooth. Feel that?”
You nodded.
“It’s called the perineum. This spot,” he pressed the pad of your middle finger over the area of skin, “Feels really good when you rub it gently. Especially while you’re also giving a blow job. Maybe take my balls in your palm a little to massage them and then move to the perineum. Just about any man you suck off is gonna absolutely love it. It’s also a really good trick when you just want the guy to come already, ‘cause maybe he’s taking too long,” he grinned.
He dragged your hand up to cup his scrotum and you kept your eyes on his as you softly squeezed. Harry’s brows narrowed and his lips parted, “Let’s do that yeah? Wanna give it a go?”
Nodding, you lowered yourself again, your lips parting around his crown as you gently massaged his balls and kept your eyes angled up toward his. You kept one hand at the base of his shaft and felt the full, warmth of his sac in your palm before you pulled off of his cock and dropped your lips down to his balls, kissing the skin all around and skimming your tongue through every crevice and wrinkle, wetting him on all sides.
You remembered you were supposed to be looking up at him and when you saw his face it only egged you on. His soft groan and pink puffy lips parted in lust with hooded eyes so you wound your tongue down further and pressed the tip of your wet muscle to the spot he called the perineum.
“Fuck! Yes…”
You liked that reaction. So you did it again and used your hand on his shaft to continue pumping him in long strokes as you pressed over the small strip of skin under his scrotum before you brought your tongue all the way up over his balls and to his base. The pre-come dripping from his tip made things wetter as you slid your palm over him.
You kept one finger on his perineum and then brought your mouth back over his cock and the desperate whimper that fell from his lungs made you feel giddy. You sucked him in and flicked your sight up to him but his eyes were closed. You could feel his legs trembling as your shoulder was pressed into his inner thigh. Gently you brought your hand over his scrotum and massaged as you worked his tip with your lips and tongue.
He placed both of his hands on either side of your head, “Y/n… yes… honey I’m gonna come. That’s so good. You’re so good for me… holy shit… where do you want me to come, huh?”
You were kind of amazed at how he was so melty and whimpery from the blow job you were giving him. You lifted and looked up at him, “Just come in my mouth. Want you to feel good.”
He nodded as he panted and you put your lips back on him, lowering down and sucking as you used your tongue to apply pressure to his crown. Continuing to play with his balls and peek up at him you saw the moment his face scrunched up and his lips dropped open wide. No sound came out at first but you tasted the first pump of his come down your throat and then felt his big cock throbbing against your tongue and it was the hottest blow job you’d ever given. And you weren’t even receiving… the reaction he gave you had you so turned on and so dizzy that you felt the need to take him deeper.
You forced yourself down further, feeling his tip nudging and spurting at the top part of your throat and you swallowed around him before sputtering slightly.
When he finally began to moan it was deep and throaty. His head was tilted back, facing the ceiling as he pumped into your mouth and down your throat. The hands he held at the side of your face were gentle and honestly? You were in heaven. You could do this with him every day if he let you.
And you tried not comparing Gunther to Harry but it was hard. Harry was so masculine and his cock was prettier and much bigger. With Gunther, you could almost take all of him in your mouth without much issue. You didn’t but you probably could have. Harry was a different story. His big cock filled up all the space in your mouth and he smelled so good too. It was a mix of what you assumed was his natural smell with a clean powdery soap.
But it was the moans Harry was making that had you feeling so worked up. He really enjoyed your blow job and that was all you needed to feel good about yourself and your ability.
Harry’s moan quieted into a simper as you continued dragging your tongue along the underside of his cock until he lulled his head forward and looked down at you, “S’good. Fuck that was good.” He prodded at you to bring your mouth off of him and you sat back with a proud smile.
He leaned forward to pull at the back of your neck and smash his lips against yours. You clung onto his shoulders as he positioned you next to him on the bed on your bottom and then he ran his hands down your sides and pulled at your sweater, “Can we get this off?”
You gripped the bottom hem of your hoodie as Harry sat back and peeled his sweater off over his head, making you pause so you could devour his chest and his arms, and his abs with your eyes. The tattoos that were scattered over his body and on his arms were no surprise. You’d heard through the grapevine about his tattoos once your roommate told you about him. And you heard he was fit. But this? He was the perfect amount of muscled and beefy. He was lean but he appeared well-fed. Broad shoulders, pecs you could bite into…
You gulped when you felt Harry’s big hands smoothing up and down your limbs as he absorbed the sight of you before you finally pulled your sweater off and then unhooked your bra, holding the cups up against your breasts for a moment to make sure he was still in it. Because maybe your body would be a complete turn off but his expressive face did all the talking and he moved his hands up your hips as his irises roamed over your skin.
“So pretty, Y/n,” he spoke like he knew you needed the reassurance. Which you did. So you slowly lowered your bra and pulled the straps from your arms and almost immediately Harry ducked down and kissed your right nipple while his hand palmed at your left tit. He moaned against your soft flesh and you felt cool air hit your skin in the path where his tongue laved against you.
A soft gasp fell from your lips when he wrapped his mouth over your nipple and looked up at you from his spot, pink lips suckling at your breast. It was almost as if he needed to make sure he was doing what you liked. As if the man wasn’t some kind of expert.
Harry’s bulky body moved over you and his hands brushed over the skin at your sides and down to your hips where your panties clung tight. You lifted your hips, ready for him to take care of you, ready to have him pull the last bit of fabric from your body and Harry grinned at you.
“I’m gonna pull these down, okay?”
Nodding you laughed in slight nervousness. You weren’t sure when you’d gotten so eager but giving Harry a blow job had made you a bit insatiable and all of the nice things he said about you, how good you were... Your insides were aching and you knew you were probably already wet, the crotch of your panties was warm against your skin.
And as he slowly dragged the material down your legs he kept looking up at you. A little bit of reassurance that he was only going to go as far as you wanted.
Paying close attention to his eyes you watched him drag his gaze over all your crevices and then up to your tits and then your eyes as he licked his lips. He wrapped a hand on the underside of your calf, lifting your leg the smallest bit as he tucked himself in closer, his shoulders pressing into your thighs.
The warm, soft kisses he dotted on your inner thigh as he looked up at you made you feel worshiped. Like he was savoring the moment and was going to take his time with you.
“Y/n, I just want to make you feel good. Tell me if you don’t like something or if you need something more okay? Because you did so good for me and I’m gonna be dreaming about those lips on me. Just want to make you feel as good as good as you made me feel.”
Harry could tell you liked a bit of praise. A compliment here and there was easy enough to throw in because it was all true. You were very good and you were so pretty and now he was going to return the favor as best he could.
When you felt his tongue swipe up through your crease you moaned faintly as you kept your eyes on him. And when he dug in more, attached his lips to your pussy, and began sucking at you the groan that fell from his chest rumbled through your core and you held on to the back of his head as you arched your back off of the pillow under yourself. His lips slicked up and down, tongue pressing at your clit and then he moved, bringing his arm in and you felt his fingers prodding at your entrance as he looked up at you, pulling his mouth away from your pussy, “Tastes so good, Y/n. Could bury my face here all day long. You mind if I finger you a little? Would that feel good?”
He ran his digits through your folds like he already knew your answer and you nodded quickly, “Yeah. Okay. If you want.”
He grinned before you felt him push his middle finger past your opening and then he watched the face you made as he curled his finger up in your magic little spot. The one only your rabbit vibrator seemed to be able to hit.
You gasped and with that, he brought his lips back over your clit and got to work. His dark curls were smooth and thick between your fingers and the way he kept pulling his gaze up to yours as he licked into you was naughty. The whole scene was something from a dream. There was something so soft about how he kept his eyes on you to check-in.
You’d had a couple of guys go down on you before but they had no idea what they were doing and you weren’t sure if it was just supposed to feel like slippery nothing gliding over your labia or not. But now, with Harry doing the work… well you realized what it was actually meant to feel like. And Harry was not giving you slippery nothing.
He seemed to enjoy it as well which made your heart lurch in your chest. Especially with how he was moaning into you like you tasted good. And he had told you as much, which… that had you on edge already.
When Harry slid in a second finger he opened his mouth wide and tongued up from where his fingers were pumping into you to your clit.
You couldn’t help the pathetic moans that were loudly bouncing off the walls of his studio, “Oh god, Harry…”
But the thing that was really seeping into your skin and your veins and making your heart pound was his eyes on yours. You couldn’t get over it. It was so intimate and sexy and the gushy noises coming from your slippery pussy were lewd and dirty. It was the perfect juxtaposition of just nasty enough but also sweet and soft that had you spiraling.
When they tell you that the biggest part of getting turned on is all in the mind, that’s absolutely true. Harry was a master at it. You weren’t sure you’d ever been so turned on with any man before. He really knew which buttons to push and all the right things to say.
“Fuck, that’s good… holy shit, Harry…”
He loved hearing you whine his name and the feel of your hips bucking upward in tiny bursts. You were one of those girls that was going to have an orgasm, he just knew it. The way you kept getting wetter every time you shot your eyes down to his was a big telltale sign. Some didn’t like the eye contact but he loved it and so did you, clearly.
He moaned into your pussy and swallowed you down as he worked his tongue in teasing circles around your clit before wrapping his lips around you again and smushing down over you with just the right amount of pressure.
The arm he had under your thigh he wrapped under your lower back, pulling you in closer if that was possible, as he continued fingering you with his other hand. The man was unquenchable. Like he needed to stuff his face in as close as humanly possible. Like he needed to suck you dry and make it so that you never forgot his name.
Your insides were melting for him. His fingers were magic inside of you and it had your brain all fuzzed out and blurry. But the way he rolled your clit under his tongue was divine, otherworldly… he knew what he was doing with that big mouth of his.
You gasped and looked back down at him again and his eyes were already pinned to yours.
“Oh… gonna co… oh fuck, gonna come…” you felt like you were being lifted into the air, levitating and vibrating off the bed and out of the atmosphere as he kept his fingers and his tongue steady. But when he moaned deeply into your cunt, that low resonate sensation traveling from your clit to your core and through your tummy made you lose control.
You didn’t realize you were yanking his hair as your legs quaked and your body liquified under him. But it didn’t deter him. He watched you unravel, tits bouncing and back arching as you orgasmed into his mouth and he curled his fingers up against your g-spot as you clamped over his digits.
If he didn’t have his mouth occupied he would have praised you more in that moment. Told you how pretty you were and how good you did for him. But he waited until you began to slowly come back to earth before whispering into your ear the sweet things he knew you’d like to hear.
He laid next to you and grasped your face, kissing your lips softly as you sighed, “So fucking good. What a pretty orgasm that was, Y/n…” He spoke between kisses.
“Did that all for me? Yeah?”
You couldn’t answer him. Not in that moment. You’d just melted and dissolved and had only begun to re-solidify and become a real human with lungs and limbs and skin and pores again.
“You are really fun to eat out, Y/n. Tasted so nice and you sound so sexy when you come. You can call me anytime you need a release okay?” He continued kissing your cheek and your lips as he spoke softly.
Harry didn’t rush you out like you thought he might. He rubbed over your tummy and kissed your breasts softly and ran his lips up the side of your neck as you slowly opened your eyes and sighed.
“Feel okay?”
You nodded and smiled, “Really good.”
“Stay as long as you want. Okay? No rush. We can even grab dinner together if you want or I can make you something.” Harry wasn’t sure why he asked you that. While he didn’t usually rush anyone out, he didn’t typically offer food or dinner either. There was just something about you that compelled him to ask. Perhaps he hoped you’d stick around a bit longer.
You sat up, “Oh. That’s really nice of you. But… maybe I should probably head back. Get some schoolwork done.”
You’d have loved to stay for dinner but you also didn’t want to get your feelings mixed up for a guy like Harry. Not that there was anything wrong with him, but you understood what this was. A one-time thing. Something fun where you got to learn a thing or two. If you stuck around too long you’d probably just want more. And that would only end in heartbreak for you. Because Harry was kind of the ideal guy in a lot of ways.
“Of course. Just thought I’d ask.”
There were no hard feelings for this kind of thing. Harry wasn’t offended that you didn’t want to stay. He’d had a good time with you and he was almost certain you had a good time as well. And that was just about all one could ask for.
Harry let you use his bathroom to clean up and get dressed. And as you did so you thought about how Gunther didn’t even offer you anything to eat or to stay after. In fact he didn’t even ask if you wanted to use his bathroom, when that would have been nice after giving him head. Because even though Gunther didn’t really touch you, you were still wet, and walking back to your dorm with wet panties was not a nice feeling. Especially when you didn’t even get anything out of it.
You’d be wary of Gunther. You’d give him another shot because you were a nice girl but you weren’t going to ignore the concerns Harry had. Perhaps Harry was right.
When you stepped out of the bathroom Harry handed you a glass of water, “Drink a little before you head out, and what dorm do you live in?” He looked down at his phone as he asked.
“Oh… uh the Millennium dorms near the arts building.”
He nodded as you took a gulp of the water and he showed you his phone, “Uber will be here for you in three minutes. I’ll walk you down, okay?”
“Wait. You didn’t have to do that! Um… I can walk or get an Uber myself it’s–“
He shook his head and grinned, “I know I didn’t have to but it’s getting late. Don’t want you walking twenty minutes by yourself. Who knows what could be lurking out there,” he laughed.
You pointed at him, “Fine. But I’m gonna pay you back. Next time I see you okay?”
“Not necessary. Now come on,” he playfully swatted at your bottom and directed you toward his door, “Let’s go downstairs and wait for…” he looked at his phone, “Rebecca in a white Trail Blazer.”
PART 2 COMING SOON
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atlabeth · 3 days
Text
take my breath away
pairing: spencer reid x reader
summary: you help spencer train for his fitness exam. he kind of just wants to kiss you.
a/n: some fluff (and something short) after i broke my own heart (and my brain) in my last hotch fic! i’m truly in my criminal minds era. enjoy
wc: 1.3k
warning(s): reader is a runner so im sorry to my unathletic friends. but this is all fluff
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“Spence,” you said, unable to bite back your smile, “how are you this bad at running?” 
“I’m—” he held up a finger as he caught his breath and shook his head. “I’m not bad at running. My form… is perfect.” 
“We barely made it a mile in,” you said, and you chuckled as he keeled over, his hands on his knees. “It can’t be that perfect.” 
“It is,” he insisted, on the edge of wheezing. “I’m just unathletic.” 
“You never did sports as a kid?” 
“I graduated high school at twelve,” Spencer breathed. “I was too busy studying. Reading. Doing anything other than sports.” He looked at you and shook his head. “And I’m not crazy like you.” 
Your smile only grew. “You should put your hands over your head. It helps get more air in.” 
“That’s actually a rumor.” He shook his head again. “When you raise your arms, muscles that contribute… to the bucket handle movement of your ribs—” He heaved a sigh, his brows furrowing, and again, you held back a smile. You were sure this was one of his only weaknesses. “—they’re not able to function properly.” 
“Alright, genius,” you said, mockingly but with love. “Recover however you like. You clearly need it.” 
Spencer pouted as he straightened up, his whole face contorted in discomfort. When your boyfriend asked you to help him train for his upcoming fitness test, you didn’t think much of it—you got a full ride through college because of track, and you keep healthy with morning runs, so you were happy to help. 
You’d thought about straight up offering a myriad of times—mostly after bearing witness to his attempts at running in the field. One time, the two of you were paired up to do some interviews, and it ended in a chase. By the time Spencer caught up, nearly dying on the sidewalk, you already had the unsub subdued and cuffed. 
(It took him a while to live that down with Morgan.)
Spencer was gifted at other things, sure—not just everyone is a classified genius with an eidetic memory, and he’s the youngest recruit in history—and you loved him more than anything. But you couldn’t not make fun of him, just a little bit. 
His face was still red, his glasses fogging up a bit from the humidity, and his hair was a mess, so you moved closer in order to brush the stray strands out of his face. 
“Running isn’t my thing,” he said. “Well— fitness isn’t my thing. I’ve got everything else covered.” 
“Oh yeah?” You started smoothing back the strands of his hair, and you offered a crooked smile. “Then why are we out here trying to improve your mile time?” 
“Because it would be nice if Gideon doesn’t have to get all my fitness stuff waived again, and if I want that, I need the help.” His eyes didn’t leave yours, and once you finished, your hands lingered on his cheeks. You nudged his glasses back up to their spot. “And I think I’d run a marathon and die trying if it meant I got to spend more time with you.” 
Your eyebrows rose. “If you want to run a marathon, I could probably get you there. It would take a lot of time together, though.” 
“Please, no,” Spencer breathed. “Just the time together part.” 
You grinned, and you patted him on the cheek before you pulled away. “Running is good for the soul. Why do you think I’m so happy all the time?” 
“Well, this morning you said you were happy because of me,” he said. “Yesterday, it was because we had our first case-free weekend in two months. The other day—” 
“That coffee I had?” you interrupted. 
He nodded. “How’d you know?” 
“Because you made it for me,” you said, “and I love it when you do that.” 
Spencer shrugged. “You do it all the time for me. It’s only fair.” 
“But that’s proof,” you said. “Running does make you happy.” 
“Running does release endorphins, but anyone who likes it is crazy,” he repeated. 
“That doesn’t sound scientifically backed.” 
“The way I feel right now beats science,” Spencer huffed. “And you’re not happy all the time. You frowned 23 times while writing up your last report.” 
You raised your eyebrows. “You were watching me? And counting?” 
He shrugged. “You’re nice to watch.” 
“Very smooth, Dr. Reid,” you said cloyingly. “But flattery won’t get you out of this.” 
“I’m not trying to get out of anything!” he defended. You stared at him, and he held up his hands. “Okay— only halfway. But you are nice to watch. That’s why I’m still here.”
“If you’re watching me while we run, that might be why you’re doing so badly,” you said, amused. 
“No—I think it’s the only thing keeping me going.”
“You don’t really look like you’re still going,” you said wryly. “You should be good at this. You’ve got long legs.” 
Spencer shook his head as he screwed his eyes shut. He let out one last breathy sigh, and you hoped he’d finally recovered. “Also largely a rumor. It’s more about leg strength compared to bodyweight—long legs help with lengthy strides, but you need to generate enough torque to move faster than with shorter legs.” 
You smiled. “You’ve still got facts? Even while you’re dying?” 
“Mostly because Elle’s said it before too. She says I look like a baby giraffe learning how to walk when I run.” Spencer shook his head again. “I think the only thing my height is good for is getting things off of shelves.” 
For once, you tried to reign in your joking. “Is there anything I can do to help? I don’t want this whole thing to be miserable for you. Running should be fun.” 
“We can stop doing this?” he suggested. “I can let go of what’s left of my pride, get all my fitness stuff waived again, and go back to figuring out cases in an air conditioned conference room?” 
You smiled, and you moved closer. “How about this?” 
Spencer opened his mouth to say something, but you pulled him in for a kiss by the front of his shirt, effectively cutting him off. He hesitated for less than a split second, but his hands fell to your waist as he brought you in closer. 
When you let go and moved away, he still had them there, and he was smiling like an idiot. 
“Does that help?” you asked innocently, tilting your head. 
“Yeah,” Spencer said, nodding rapidly. “Uh— yeah. I actually think I could go for another mile now.” 
You couldn’t help but laugh as you ruffled his hair, messing up your earlier work. “I’d love to test that, pretty boy, but I don’t think you can make it another mile.” 
Spencer shook his head. “If you keep kissing me like that, I think I can make it through that marathon you mentioned.”  
“Sure I don’t take your breath away too badly?” you teased. 
“I have some facts for that, but I don’t think they apply.” His lips curved up, and the redness from exertion mixed with his steadily rising blush. “Because you, uh— you did take my breath away the first time I saw you.” 
“I should start calling you loverboy with material like that,” you mused. “Morgan’s annoyed that I took pretty boy from him.” 
Spencer grimaced. “Just thinking of Morgan seeing me like this makes me want to get back at it. I can’t deal with any more of his teasing.” 
“But my teasing’s okay?” 
He frowned. “Of course. It— it’s kind of why I fell for you.” 
“Ah,” you nodded. “That’s why you’re still at this. You don’t like things being handed to you.” 
His cheeks darkened again, and you laughed as you leaned in to peck him on the lips one more time. 
“Alright, loverboy,” you said. “Ready to get back at it?” 
“No,” he said affirmatively. “But I don’t really have a choice, do I?” 
“Not if you want to pass,” you said wryly, and you gestured back at the trail with your head. “But you know what they say—one step at a time.” 
Spencer grumbled, and he shook his arms out again. “Fine. As long as those steps are with you.” 
You smiled. “I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.” 
1K notes · View notes
finniestoncrane · 1 day
Note
Virginal vault dweller reader you say?? I'd eat that up (and so would Cooper, heh) but seriously I would read the hell out of that if you're up for it <3
Different Up Here
Cooper Howard x Fem!Reader, word count: 6.3k anon thank you lmao i had already started drafting this, so vault dweller reader isn't quite a virgin but they are definitely inexperienced and have never known pleasure like the kind that cooper can offer 🤎 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: power imbalance, dubious consent because once you've said yes to cooper you can't change your mind, overstimulation, crying, oral sex, fingering, rimming, instructional, full penetration babiessss i realised i never tag that shit but yeah it's in here lmao, cumming inside, no protection, sweet coop afterwards but only briefly
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If anyone else had asked you in that moment how you were, you couldn't have answered accurately without any hint of sarcasm and irritation. You were being worn down, like buildings by the sands of the desert. Each little molecule of your optimism being torn away from you, painful like plucking a hair. But when Cooper asked you, you tried your best to push down your knee jerk response.
"Let's see, shall we? Since leaving the vault a month ago, bravely in search of resources and supplies for my friends, I have killed, maimed, and eaten things I hope to never think of again. I'm in a constant cycle of very, very stressed and then very, very bored where there is no happy medium between fearing for my life and wishing for death. And oh, by the way, I'm sweating buckets the whole time because it's deathly fucking warm. Thank you for asking, Cooper!"
Instead, you shrugged and offered him at least a partial truth.
"It sounds silly... but I'm kind of bored."
A dry chuckle passed over Cooper's lips.
"Heh, that's a new one for out here."
Sensing an opportunity to at least get some conversation out of him, you sat up on the rusty bed frame, your body sinking into the almost entirely flattened mattress as you crossed your legs and did your best to get Cooper to talk more than a sentence at a time.
"Really? I would have thought you'd be bored a lot, especially when there's no raiders, or mirelurks, or scavengers, or feral ghouls, or super mutants, or roving gangs of-"
"See, this is why I'm never bored. Always somethin' or someone to be killin'."
"But what about like... now? When there's nothing else to do. There's no magazines, no books, no TV."
You watched as Cooper turned from you with a slight smile. You knew the one, the familiar grin that meant you'd divulged some information about your life in the vaults, something he always found so amusing. It was your naivety, your optimism. He was endlessly fascinated by it, as though listening to you talk about it reminded him of something he had before.
That fascinated you. It made you want to stay around him, the way he listened silently as you talked about the old films that were on the holotapes, the food that was still fresh and available, the music you could hear whenever you wanted to, not reliant on some two-bit radio host. He paid attention to you. And any time his deep, brown eyes focused on your lips it made your heart flutter in an admittedly unexpected manner.
Remembering that feeling, you tried again, hoping that your next approach might be something that interested him a little more than just conversation.
"You know how we used to pass time in the vaults?"
Over the sound of the evening breezes that whipped up the sand you could still hear Cooper sigh before he spoke.
"Now if you tell me that you wanna go out there again tonight to find an old blast radius board... well I am just going to have to shoot you."
You laughed at what you hoped was a joke and waved him off, despite the fact that he was still turned away from you, unable to see your gesture as he tried ignoring you in what you assumed was the hope that you might shut up and leave him alone.
"No, no no no no no. Just..."
The lump in your throat felt like it was about to choke you, so you swallowed the clump of nerves quietly, your voice trembling as you finished your sentence.
"... fooling around... y'know?"
Cooper turned to face you. You had piqued his interest, and you couldn't help but show the giddy glee on your face, the smallest smile crossing your lips as your eyes widened. But his words wiped away all hope that you had garnered in that short span of time.
"Oh... oh darlin'."
He laughed a little, each little sound of the short, sharp giggle like a slap to the face.
"I don't think you're ready for that at all."
You raised an eyebrow, defiant, irritated, and keen to know how he thought he had you pegged so quickly. You'd never talked about anything like that with him before. Was he assuming that you were a virgin based on how you behaved around him alone? Maybe he figured that the lack of flirting on your part was down to a complete lack of experience, when in reality, it was because every flirtatious quip he threw your way made you so nervous and flustered you felt like you might throw up.
"How come I'm not ready? I mean, I've... I've done stuff... I've done it!"
"The fat you're not saying it how it is makes me think that you are absolut-"
"I've had sex, Cooper. I've fucked before. I've been fucked."
Blinking off the irritation at being interrupted by you, Cooper pushed up the brim of his hat and stared directly at you, as though he was examining your, to see if you would stand up for yourself any further.
"By who? One of your little buddies underground? Fucking like little bunnies? I don't think that qualifies you, sweetheart."
"Why? Sex is sex..."
You said it with such confidence. As if you really knew. As if you hadn't spent your teenage years practising on your hand, holding a pillow close, lining up for that one girl in the vault who would sell practice kisses for extra bubble-gum. You'd had sex before, of course. You weren't a liar. Just because you'd only ever done it once didn't render it nonfactual. Just because it had only lasted for all of four minutes. Just because you weren't sure you even orgasmed, and your friend had told you that you'd know if you'd orgasmed. Just because it was all over so quickly, and he'd run off before anyone could catch you both, avoiding you at every opportunity after that.
"... Isn't it?"
"Oh no it ain't. Besides, like I keep telling you, it's different up here. Everything's different up here. And that includes fuckin'."
The way he said the word, consonants enunciated with such grit and vigour, filled your stomach with knots that began to tighten as you considered in what way things were so different.
"What exactly do you mean by that?"
Cooper sighed, exasperated, resigning himself to the fact that you were going to keep talking to him regardless of his short replies and attempts to end the conversation.
"You are a dog with a bone, huh? Ain't gonna let it go."
His yellowed teeth were exposed as his lips pulled back in a baring, mischievous smile. Those knots doubled, the ends being pulled by tension in your nervous system as Cooper's smirk put you into a dazed stupor.
"No, sir."
"Now, I don't remember signing on to be your personal tutor in all things apocalypse. Do I really need to show you how everything works up here?"
As your cheeks began to blush, you nodded enthusiastically.
"Yes, sir."
You were hopeful for just a bit of a distraction. Something to help take the stress away. To relieve the tension that had been building up between you and Cooper as of late. You'd been studying him, watching the way he looked at you, fascinated by your perceived, and frankly obvious, innocence. The way his fingers moved, contributing to the skilful way he handled his gun and his ropes. The confidence, the charisma, the charms.
You wanted him, but you weren't quite sure how to broach the situation without it seeming desperate. But you were past that now. You were desperate For anything, just something. Something to cure the monotony of walking and hiding and fighting and surviving. You didn't want to just survive. You wanted to at least find a semblance of fun and pleasure in this nightmare you had found yourself in. And in the vaults, when board games and books and debates got boring, there was always fucking. That was what you desired most right now. The fact that Cooper happened to be the closest target for your desires was just a sweet miracle, or a cruel tease depending on how willing he was.
And luckily, he seemed agreeable.
"Well then, how about you come over here and let ol' Coop show you a little thing or two about how dirty you can really get up here in the mean, dusty Wasteland, hm?"
Your excitement was palpable, even though you were trying to keep your composure. There was no escaping the echo of the giddy squeal you let out as you jumped up from the bed and made your way over to Cooper. He waited in the far corner of the room, setting himself down on an old armchair as you stepped towards him, slapping his thighs as an indication of where he wanted you. And you did as you were told, following his instructions, knowing they hadn't led you astray so far in your time together.
It felt awkward at first, being so close to him. You shifted your weight nervously, trying to get comfortable while making sure Cooper was still at ease, which of course, he was. He always was. Nothing stirred him, he was forever at peace. Competent in any situation. Quick to adapt. And as you fidgeted and fussed, you felt his strong hands pushing you forward on his lap, until your chests were practically pressed together, his hands skirting over your lower back as he held you still. In command. In control. The sudden sensation of his hands on your body made your breath hitch, a soft, surprised squeal on the inhale that had Cooper raising his brow at you.
"Now... you agree that you asked for this, alright? Because I am not going to put my effort into entertaining your little whims if you're gonna get fussy and decide it's too much for you. I did warn you."
"Yes, you did, and I really don't think you needed to. I doubt there's too much different about it, and I've picked up what I needed to know pretty quickly from your other lessons, haven't I?"
Your retaliation to his insistence that you needed him to teach you everything, and that some things just might prove themselves a little too hard even for your levels of enthusiasm, had irritated him when he'd first met you. But now your optimism and sheer refusal to believe anything was too much for you were a source of entertainment for him. A challenge.
"That's fine then, darlin'. But I'll remember that."
His eyes bore into your soul, keeping your focus on him as he dared you to look away. They sparkled as he ran his tongue over his lips, the pretence of preparing for his next words covering the obvious flirtation in the way he dragged the flat muscle along his chapped skin.
"So, gimme a benchmark here, lil lady. How much foreplay was involved in your previous encounters? I'd hate to leave you high and dry."
"Foreplay...? What... uh, what is that?"
Cooper sighed, rolling his eyes before closing his eyelids over gently.
"Well, it's something like this."
He pushed a loose strand of hair back behind your ear, rough fingers following the curve and grazing over your neck as he let them drift down the front of your chest, tickling the exposed skin as far as your jumpsuit would allow before he took a hold of the zip at the front. A quick flit of his eyes up to you seemed to ask for permission, and your small, almost imperceptible nod, told him to keep going.
Slowly, painfully so, he pulled the zip down, watching as the centre of your torso was slowly revealed to him. Smooth skin, in comparison to his anyway, clear of any unnatural blemishes or war wounds. One calloused digit followed down your sternum to your stomach and back up, hooking under the left side of the fabric and pulling it over, then the other, exposing the top half of your body to him.
Cooper traced his fingertips over the top of your breasts, watching as your chest moved in and out, slowly, but exaggeratedly. The knots in your stomach felt like they might burst with the tension as his sharp, ragged nails crossed over your hardening nipples, a gentle tingle coursing through your veins.
"Well?"
"No... n-nothing like that... just grabbing..."
"Oh yeah? You like that? How about this?"
He closed two fingers around your nipple, one hand still on your back to keep you balanced as your body reacted to his touch. Between the two digits, you felt your nipples heating up, the slight, burning pain from the way he squeezed them sending a signal down your spine that seemed to affect every part of you. Tighter, tighter, and then as your eyes closed a little more, eyelids pressed tight, he would ease up to offer some relief.
"You like that? Like it rough?"
"I think... I think I like both."
"So, something like this?"
He teased your nipples once more, pressing harder with his fingertips, pulling them out and jiggling your breasts as he tugged at them, this lewder act interspersed with a gentle caress as he held your breast against the palm of his hand, carefully cupping it as he flicked his thumb over the sensitive and completely erect nipple.
You bit your lip, trying to keep quiet, Coop's hand moved swiftly from your body to your cheeks, popping the lip back out as he pressed his thumb and forefinger into your face. Understanding the message, and seemingly showing this in your wide-eyed gaze, he let his rough, leathery hand make its way back down to your breast, cupping it once more as he spoke.
"Different, see? Pleasure is hard to come by out here. You gotta do it right when you've got the chance."
Cooper leaned into your neck, whispering the words low and slowly, his dry, chapped lips skimming over your skin as he continued.
"I bet down there they didn't know the first thing about real pleasure. Takes time, something like that. You gotta learn the body, gotta make it feel good."
His teeth grazed over your shoulder and back up along your neck before he pulled back, watching your eyes refocus from the haze of arousal.
"Did they make you feel good?"
"No."
You were confident in that statement. It hadn't felt good. It felt rushed. Clumsy. Shameful. And as you pondered it, your mouth remained open in a slight pout which trembled as Cooper asked his next question.
"And what about your pretty lips... did they kiss them?"
"A little..."
Cooper leaned in, his rough lips pressing onto yours with firm contact, his tongue staying in place as though he imagined that might be a bit too much for you right now. But that same level of restraint didn't keep him from letting his teeth catch onto your bottom lip, pulling it out, only letting go when you winced in surprise as the suddenness of the action.
"Didn't bite them either. Of course not, what am I thinking? That would be a little too adventurous for your kind."
His face took on a darker tone as he smiled knowingly towards you.
“And what about these pretty lips?”
Before you could piece together the question, his hand was diving into your jumpsuit, pushing down the front and past the waist, stroking against the front of your underwear which, by now, was soaking wet with your arousal.
“They touch these lips, huh?”
You gasped as he pushed your underwear to the side, stroking his fingers along your slick, plump pussy lips, withdrawing them soon after to taste you on his tongue, the way you had watched him taste the blood of enemies, the blood of victims.
“Stand up, darlin’… Why don’t you take that suit off, hm? Get yourself comfy.”
As you raised yourself up from his hips, your legs wobbled under you, not quite steady enough to support you so soon after being reduced to jelly by Cooper’s touch, his caramelised words that filled your ears, the sharp twang of his accent, the delicate cadence, the power rumbling underneath like an almost silent bassline.
“Do it slowly though.”
Cooper watched carefully as you stood nervously before him, shuffling out of your suit, stripping for him, your hips moving from side to side slow and steady, unintentionally sultry in the way you moved. Without taking his eyes from you he reached for his canteen, taking a long sip from it as you let your suit fall down over your legs, stepping out of it and pushing it to the side with your feet.
“That’s it, darlin’. Can’t do this half-hearted. I need to have access to all of you there. Now come sit back down.”
You held your arms in front of you, feeling far too exposed for the shelter you’d found for the evening. No windows, no locks on the doors. But it was difficult to focus on that worry for too long as you watched Cooper’s tongue flit back out over his lips, clear strands of drool sparkling in the light as he took you in, hungrily, dreamily.
“Turn around though. You face that way.”
The metal buttons on the front of his duster coat were cold against the skin of your back, but you leaned into them anyway. Cooper’s hand curved around your neck and up under your chin, holding your face forward.
“You keep an eye out, holler if you see anything coming. I’ll do everything else.”
A faint clicking sound, the safety on his gun being flicked to off, before those same fingers draped over your mound and down on to your lips, spreading them apart, the cool air of the decrepit room cooling the heat of your hot, aching cunt. With two fingers holding your lips apart, he let the middle digit tap against your clit, each tiny sensation turning your blood cold before heating it exponentially, a cold sweat beginning to form on your brow as you felt a tingle in your abdomen.
The finger that tapped the sensitive bud began stroking it from side to side, laying flat against it length wise as Cooper strummed your body, still holding your chin in his hands, smiling to himself every time your back arched away from him in intense pleasure. Every nerve-ending was at his mercy. He was right, it was different up here. But you wondered how much of that was the Wasteland and it’s effect on sexuality and pleasure, and how much of it was just him. Cooper Howard, Wasteland bounty hunter, a past life he refused to talk about, the most charismatic monster you had ever met. His fingers, daintily crossing over your clit, as you felt his breath, silent except for an occasional hum of satisfaction in the form of a long moan. Maybe it was just Cooper who was different.
It was hard to focus on this new line of though as his hard fingertips clamped down on your clit, pinching it as he rolled it between his fingers. Even harder when he let his hand drop from your neck and instead began teasing at your nipples once more. Soft, cruel flicks over the hardened bumps, his fingers at work on your body, his lips kissing at the back of your neck. Moans growing louder, more frequent, as he let himself enjoy the act of making you squirm. You could tell he was having fun, as you rolled your hips back a little, feeling the thick bulge of his stiffening cock against your rear. You wondered how it might feel, how it might look, and what he could do differently with it.
“Cooper… Coop… I think I’m going to cum…”
His movements quickened, cock twitching against your body as he pinched tighter and pressed his fingers harder against your cunt.
“Don’t you dare, little lady.”
“Ok I’ll… I’ll try but… you have to… stop… please stop… Coop…”
He ignored your please, the whining, desperate begging as you tried to stop your body from the natural, encouraged reaction.
“Have some self-control, sweetheart.”
“Cooper, I really can’t… please… please stop touching me…”
“I absolutely will not.”
Your fingers dug into his thighs, but you noticed that you refused to move away from him. You wanted to do as he asked, wanted to hold yourself back from the brink of orgasm to prolong his touch, but you couldn’t risk him actually stopping, fearing that your body might crumble if his fingers left your quivering, pathetic body for only a second.
Each stroke against your increasingly wet and sensitive pussy had you trembling and shaking, and Cooper had to remove his hand from your breast to keep you steady, placing it under your chin and holding you steady by the neck.
“I am warning you, missy.”
“Cooper… I can’t stop…”
You shuddered and whined as your body gave in to the temptation, feeling a rush of heat and relief as you came on his lap, your arousal coating his pants, adding to the collection of stains and wear on them. But he didn’t stop then.
“No wait… seriously, Cooper… I can’t… I can’t take much more, honestly…”
“Listen, I told you. I said you better not cum. I wasn’t done with you yet.”
Your eyes began to sting with tears of exasperation as your body kept on pushing to its limits, conjuring up another wave of climax, tormenting you with never-ending bouts of arousal that kept you rutting against him, despite how painful it was to keep writhing into his body. You could feel your stomach knotting again, not much time between each orgasm to relax, and you dug your hands into his thighs, pushing your body up off of him as you tensed completely.
“Ok, this time, you do it on my command. You do it when I say you can, alright?”
“Cooper…”
“Don’t give me that pleading shit, you asked me to show you how things are done. Well this is how Cooper fuckin’ Howard does things. So are you ready? You gonna come for me?”
“C-coop… I’ll… I’ll try…”
“Good girl, now you keep that mouth making those whines and moans. I don’t need you to call out my name or anything, I know I’m all you’re thinking about.”
The praise, the self-confidence, the way his fingers seemed to be pulling your orgasm out, motioning for it to come closer to him.
“Come on, darlin’, come on…”
Your vision blurred as the climax came over you, body rolling and convulsing as you came once more at Cooper’s insistence, your cheeks stained with tears, salted water rolling through the layers of grime and clearing paths to your chin.
As you settled back down onto his lap with a shudder, you felt Cooper’s fingers stroking through your hair. He was surprisingly gentle, oddly calm, but you supposed that you deserved his kindness as you had done as he had asked, making up for your previous indiscretion. He was almost cooing, shushing you as you found your breath, establishing your sense of self once more after the overstimulating orgasm that shook your core.
“You seen enough of the big bad world for one day then?”
You probably had, but you still found yourself shaking your head, ignoring the way your body reacted with a violent twitch at the notion of Cooper’s hands delivering intense pleasure.
“A glutton for punishment, hm? Or just keen to learn?”
As you pondered your answer, Cooper seemed to have come to the conclusion for you, as he tapped your hips and began to shift underneath you.
“Alright then, get onto your knees.”
Positioning yourself at his feet, you couldn’t help but look up at him, catching his eyes as he looked down at you with that unique brand of disdain and intrigue he had somehow mastered. You knew what was coming, what was about to happen, and your mouth began watering at the thought. What he might taste like. What he might look like.
You didn’t have to imagine for long though, as you could see his fingers working the belt of his pants, loosening it, unzipping his fly, and gripping his semi-erect cock at the base as he took it out, brandishing it. He kept close attention on your own eyes, a soft sigh of relief imperceptibly escaping his chest as he noticed your pupils widen, your mouth opening in preparation for him.
It was exactly as you had expected. The texture of the shaft was similar to that of his cheeks and his forearms, a similar colouring, though darker at the base and on the shaft which was tinted red. Thick, purple tinged veins covered it, winding around the length, cutting across the ridges of the scars.
“You can come closer, darlin’. I don’t know what they told you about mutations and radiation effects down there in your little utopia, but I can assure you… it doesn’t bite.”
The fear was palpable, clearly, but it was nothing to do with Cooper’s body and everything to do with your lack of experience, which, despite you arguing otherwise, was becoming plainly obvious even to you. You had only ever touched a cock with your hands outside of being quickly fucked. Several times you’d been cajoled into quickly stroking an erection under the blankets before your partner ran off to the bathroom, clean and tidy, flushing away the sins. And you were very well aware that there was always the option to suck on one, but it had never presented itself. It had never seemed that appealing to you. Until you were faced with Cooper’s.
He hadn’t even asked you to do either yet, but you found yourself curious, salivating over the thought of him, mind racing as you imagined how he might feel against your tongue.
“Can I taste it… you?”
Cooper smiled warmly, one of the few times you had seen him look at you with genuine pride.
“Now that is using your initiative. Of course you can.”
You kept your hands to yourself as you leaned in towards his body, content to let Cooper wield his length at you, his hand firm around the base as you inched closer, tongue pressed out over your lips. A strand of drool collected and spilled forward, hitting the floor in a soft patter just before the tip of your tongue came into contact with the tip of his cock.
A lot of the movements were instinctual, following your desires more than what you thought might be protocol as you dragged your tongue up the shaft and swirled over the blushing head of his cock. It tasted bitter, but in a pleasant way.  Savoury, not sweet. Salted, a tang that stayed there for a few seconds after your tongue had moved on to another spot. A flavour you found yourself craving now.
Cooper gripped tighter and pushed forward, taking you by surprise as he slid himself into your mouth, his free hand moving to the back of your head, fingers curling into your hair. As the taste of him hit the back of your tongue, cock almost touching your throat, you coughed and spluttered a little.
“Fuck me, darlin’… do you need me to show you how to do this too?”
He looked down at you, filled with pity as he saw your face. Red cheeks, puffed out, lips stretched over the girth of his cock, tears welling up in your eyes as you struggled to breathe.
“Breath through your nose… breathe in…”
You followed his instructions, instantly calmed when you found your lungs filling with air once more. Almost immediately back to enjoying yourself, the feeling of Cooper inside of you, the control he had as he held your head against him.
“Now… you don’t want to choke too much, so keep your tongue flat… yeah, just like that…”
It was so much easier like that, and you could feel your cheeks getting warmer and redder as you realised that not only had you embarrassed yourself with your spluttering and lack of knowledge, but that Cooper had clearly done this a lot.
“And your teeth… well, usually they’ll tell you to keep ‘em outta the way, but you know me… gotta be different…”
Taking the hint, you let your jaw close slightly, the pain of the stretch lessened, your teeth scraping along the top of his shaft as your tongue worked the underneath, sucking and rolling as much as you could while keeping it flat.
He didn’t say much else, and you couldn’t tell if he was particularly enjoying himself. It worried you, the fact that he had specific preferences, the way it was so clear how much more experienced he was than you. How many others had there been? And were they all better than you? As your mind wandered to your anxieties, you completely missed the fact that you had begun to drool all over yourself until Cooper relaxed his grip on your head and wiped at your chin with his thumb. Catching your eyes and sensing some of your worries, he was surprisingly quick to soothe you.
“You can swallow or spit or let it all spill out, I don’t mind makin’ a mess darlin’. But whatever you’re doing, you keep that up.”
You were so pathetically grateful for the encouragement, for the tiniest semblance of praise, that you felt yourself moaning involuntarily. The soothing motion of sucking on his cock, the taste of something new, the comforting knowledge that he was happy with your efforts. You could feel your clit throbbing, aroused by Cooper’s satisfaction, how pleased he was with the way you worked him over.
Which is why it surprised you so much when he pulled his cock from your mouth, your lips slipping off of it with a disgustingly lewd popping sound, drool spilling onto your chin in long strands which stretched from your lips to his cock and tore apart as he distanced himself from you.
And again, that sympathetic gaze, the way he could tell what you were thinking before you even said it.
“Oh, don’t you look at me with those big, sad eyes. You got nothin’ to worry about, sweetheart. That was good, ‘specially for a first try…”
He winked to you as he spoke, causing your heart to skip enough beats that you thought you might die there and then.
“… It’s just that I’m all slicked up and ready to go now… so you wanna bend over for me? Or do you wanna come sit on my lap?”
“Uh… lap, please… I was kinda bent over for the last… first time.”
“Well, you come and take a seat then, darlin’, let ol’ Coop show you something new.”
You nervously settled your entirely nude body back down onto his thighs. Cooper’s hands were gentle against your shoulders as he pulled you backwards with him, leaning at a slight angle in the chair, his cock rigid and firm as it sat against your waiting cunt, coated in your drool which almost seemed to shimmer with the dancing light of the fire.
Then, so carefully, so gently, far more than you’d ever seen him be before, Cooper took hold of his cock at the base and slid it inside of you, one hand on your stomach as he braced you, keeping your body steady as he inserted himself further and further between your clenching walls.
“Bigger than before?”
You nodded, biting your lip as you felt the distinct stretch, his rough, textured cock forcing its way inside your cunt, pressed up to the hilt, testing your limits.
“Better?”
“Mhm…”
“Speak up, darlin’.”
With your voice strained and breathy, you managed to form some words.
“Yes… it’s better.”
“That’s it, good girl. Now, I’m gonna buck my hips, ok? You just try and keep your balance.”
Below you, Cooper shifted a little, his hips rolling backwards, inches of his cock escaping your tight, aching cunt, before he rolled them forwards and upwards, back into you. A slow, steady pace that he focused on keeping until you felt warmer, more relaxed.
“You got this, it’s like riding a horse.”
“I’ve never… hm… ridden a horse…”
Cooper chuckled, a low and rasping sound that sent shivers over your skin and seemed close enough to you that it was coming from inside of your body.
“Never ridden a ghoul before either, but you’re handling it alright for a first timer.”
You were coping ok, you had to admit, but you could feel your stomach muscles tensing, the knots back in full force as they tensed and tightened, loosened and frayed with each pump of his cock within you.
“Ah… Cooper…”
“Too much, darlin’? Does it hurt?”
There was a sense of genuine care in his tone, as though he had taken it upon himself to show you that yes, things were different up there in the Wasteland, but that didn’t always mean they were worse. Some things were good, if not a little bit difficult to take at first.
“A little…”
Cooper tilted your chin up, forcing your head to lean back completely against his shoulder. In a delicate move, one far more romantic than you imagined from him, he ran his thumb over your lips, angling his neck to look at them, his own mouth open ever so slightly, a monotonous panting as he kept his hips moving, increasing the speed and the force at which he entered you.
His eyes flicked up suddenly, looking into yours, catching your gaze and holding unblinking eye contact as he spoke.
“I know… I know… Just a little longer, though…”
He closed his eyes, focusing on the feeling of his cock pushing against your body, enveloped in your hot, wet, velvety interior.
“I know it hurts… but I ain’t stopping, so don’t even ask… here…”
You watched as he brought a finger to your lips, offering it up to you.
“…you bite down on that if it gets too much, ok… but don’t hold back on those sweet sounds… I wanna hear you scream.”
With that vaguely threatening remark, he thrust up into you, banging against your body, spurring on your orgasm but unleashing a dull ache that spread through every sensitive part of you.
“Won’t… be long… keep it together… good girl…  good girl…”
It felt good, the pain, the sting, the ache, the shivers. The fact that he was using you, finding pleasure in you. All of it culminating in Cooper’s nearing orgasm which you could sense was closing in on him. His movements were becoming more frantic, sloppier, and he was mouthing all manner of sweet nothings as he let his façade slip away.
And those soft mumbles opened up into a wide roar as he clung to your body, the hand on your neck cutting off the air to your lungs only briefly, one hand on your lap pressing sharp indents into your skin as he forced himself into you. The last few moments of his fevered thrusting, fucking you wildly, drool pooling in the corner of his mouth as he rutted into you in a dazed stupor before his body gave in. His cock throbbed, each pulse sending another rope of cum against your insides, filling you with his seed as he shuddered finally, slinking backwards into the chair and taking in a deep breath as you removed yourself from him.
You’d only managed to take a few steps forward before Cooper addressed you, opening his eyes to watch you standing there awkwardly, his cum dripping down your thighs, a warmth that quickly turned cool in the air of the room.
“Did I say you could get up?”
Panic settled in your chest, aware that you had waited until you felt his muscles relax, his body retreating from you, before you slid off his cock, expecting him to push you away anyway, like your first time. You assumed he was finished, and you weren’t sure you were ready for the idea that he might not be done with you.
“Are we… oh, Cooper, I really can’t take anymore.”
Even as you stood, you could feel your legs shaking, weakened by the intense orgasms, the way they tightened against his every movement.
“That’s different up here too then, I suppose.”
Cooper stood up from the chair, pacing towards you with a purposeful stride as he pushed his cock back into his pants, zipping them up as he reached you. You inhaled sharply as he placed his hand at the back of your head, those knots in your stomach beginning to form again, worried that a further, albeit pleasurable punishment was on the cards. But you were surprised as he slid his free hand around your back, tugging at your waist as he pulled you in close to him. A quick smile before his lips were on yours, the brim of his hat pushed upwards as he leaned into the kiss. Warm, gentle, the kind of kiss you’d seen in movies. Practised and confident, meaningful, sincere.
When he pulled back, your body following him a little before you settled back onto your feet, he smiled warmly.
“Sweet with the sour, darlin’. You gotta keep ‘em wanting more.”
“M-more?”
More as in now? Or more as in the idea that Cooper had enjoyed himself and would be willing to offer that kind of pleasure to you again. And he answered with a wink.
“Definitely. There’s a still a lot you’ve got to learn.”
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lygma-nygma · 1 day
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Being a batfam fan is funny because people will make a post like “here’s my headcanon-“ and it’s just something that’s directly canon to the story then post about major canon events and get everything wrong.
#this post was inspired by me remembering the experience of reading death in the family#after only knowing the fanbase version and realizing oh none of that shit happened okay#like girl you don’t understand it’s so bad#Jason wasn’t even fired as Robin#He’s not accused of murdering anyone by Bruce#He’s not trying to prove himself at all he’s just looking for his mom#The reason Bruce didn’t go after him right away is because he was tracking down a goddamn nuke the Joker stole#Then after he finds it and handles the problem he helps Jason track down moms 2 and 3#Also Jason died in like 20 minutes?? even less??#He died in less time than it took his mother to smoke a cigarette#Bruce literally went ‘wait here I’ll be right back’ and was gone for less time than a trip to the grocery store#and then you go into the Jason Todd tag and they act like Bruce pulled the damn trigger on him#Like besties I don’t know how to tell you this he basically did everything right he possibly could have#Even him benching Jason from Robin temporarily happens so that he can get Jason into therapy about his trauma#Like the whole point is that neither of them did anything wrong bad shit just sometimes happens#That’s the tragedy. The drama.#Bruce couldn’t have made better choices in the position he was in and Jason was never going to make different ones#It was inevitable#Anyway rant over please read death in the family before I lose my mind#batfam#batman#jason todd#tim drake#dick grayson#damian wayne#bruce wayne
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ode2rin · 2 days
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new boyfriend rin would never ever, under any circumstance, admit that he likes the pet names you call him. well… unless you would stop doing it. (also me pushing the bffs to lovers pipeline)
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You must be upset with him, Rin is convinced so. It’s the only logical and sensible explanation behind this unusual behavior. 
And he's going mad about it. Itoshi Rin is going mad any second now if he can't get to the bottom of this, he’s certainly convinced.
Every instinct screamed that your recent behavior was a reaction to something he'd done, but what? Was it the late replies to your text messages? No, you knew he was at practice and you told him you didn’t mind. Was it about the souvenir he brought back home to you from Paris? Sure, you teased him about its impracticality, but nothing that warranted this icy distance.
Or maybe it was something he said now? It must be, right? Everything boils down to his reckless poor choice of words, he supposes.
Slowly, Rin approached you by the couch you’re seated in. With your attention preoccupied by the selection of shows you’re browsing, you settled on looking at him briefly through your peripheral vision. Amused by how he’s slightly tiptoeing around, you let out a half-suppressed laugh to yourself. 
He looks like a cat sometimes, you thought from the sight. And acts like one too. Like a big black cat who would hiss at you if you looked at him funny, or one that would bite your hand if you stopped petting him to sleep. Funny how Rin could be like that too.
The moment Rin settles into the plush comfort of the couch, he gazes at you through lowered lashes, trying to read the play of emotions on your face, if there’s any. 
There’s nothing worth noting, and he doesn’t know if that should assure or bother him.
“Are we… alright?” he drawled.
What the fuck. He did not just sound like that. 
He did not just ask that and sounded like an anxious pathetic wet cat who just had a new home waiting for its owner’s permission over anything (highly specific because he’s a bit dramatic). Just what kind of loser have you reduced him into, really.
Oblivious of the internal turmoil in Rin’s mind, you turn to him, “Hmm? Yeah? Why’d you ask?”
“Nothing,” he grumbled. It’s enough that he already humiliated himself for the way he asked if the two of you were cool— doing it again by exposing himself that he thinks you’re mad plainly because he hadn’t heard you call him a pet name (like you always do) would be mortification in its final form.
“Okay, Rin.”
That’s it. This needs to end. Forget humiliation. He would rather choose to feel pathetic over any day than continue with this charade.
“Are you mad at me?” 
“Why would you think that?” you asked back instantly, shocked and extremely confused because of your boyfriend’s question. You’re literally just looking for a movie the two of you can watch— how is that any indication of being mad at him?
“Just answer the question,” he fumed, impatience settling on the furrow of his brows.
You said in the beginning of your relationship that you didn’t appreciate the silent treatment and guessing games, so don’t you think it’s hypocritical of you to do the same to him? (You’re not, but he just doesn’t know that.)
“I’m not mad at you, Rin.”
“You so are!” 
“I am not! But you, yelling and instigating it are making me right now!” you countered, voice hinted with irritation, “What is your problem, Rin?”
There it is again. Rin rose from the couch to face your sitting form, as if standing would better prove his point. “See? You’re calling me Rin!” he blurted.
“Well, maybe because it’s your name?!”
“Not to you, it’s not!”
A beat of surprised silence. Until your lips grew to such a wide smile that made Rin physically feel his heart melting. 
Yet, in Rin’s true fashion, he’ll never let you know how much air you knock out of him because of your beaming smile. Instead, he’ll say something along the snarky lines of, “Stop smiling like that.”
“Did my big bad grumpy Rinnie here thought we’re on a fight because I hadn’t call him baby?” you ask, purposely stressing out the words to disarm him more.
With a feigned exasperation, he comments, “I forgot how annoying you are.” 
“And I forgot how childish you can get sometimes,” you countered.
“I’m not childish.”
“You don’t mind me calling you Rin then?”
Rin rolled his eyes at you, but you know better than to put meaning to it. He lowered himself onto the couch beside you. With a swift tug, Rin pulled you closer, closing the distance between you effortlessly. His arm found its way around your waist, drawing you snugly against his chest.
“But I don’t see why you need to…” Maybe he could be a bit childish.
“I thought you didn’t like it,” you shyly muttered, drawing shapes in his arm. “The pet names, I mean,” you clarified, sensing the confused look he’s probably giving you behind.
“What the hell are you talking about?” He is baby. He is Rinnie. Fucking hell, that’s so loser of him to even voice it out in his own mind. 
“What? You call me by my name!” you defensively pointed out.
“Doesn’t mean I don’t like your nicknames of me,” he mumbled, the words barely audible.
The pet names— they were more than what they served. It was important to him more than what he would admit. 
They were a secret language, a way you marked him as yours. A reminder that he wasn't just Rin anymore— just your friend.
He was now something more, something special.
A ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Besides… I love your name,” he whispered, his voice velvet against your hair.
It’s tender— no, it makes him tender. Saying your name has been the softest, kindest, and most tender way he’s used his words for. 
Maybe it’s a little pathetic, feeling this undone by a name. But then it’s you. 
It was your name— a name he could whisper with adoration, a name that belonged only to him to claim. 
You melt to his words, leaning deeper into his chest. A contented sigh escaped your lips, the sound swallowed by the warmth of his embrace.
Looking up at him, your eyes held a softness he often found himself getting lost in, “I love your name too, but I also like calling you pet names. Is it okay?”
“Whatever you decide.” He’s yours, either way.
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note. this is basically rin being "my nameeee is whatever you decideeeee and i'm just gonna call you mineeee i'm insane but i'm your baby!!!!" yeah that song basically.
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punkshort · 2 days
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i know who you are | 8. the return
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Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Chapter Summary: You help Joel recover from his injuries and you finally confront your feelings for him.
Chapter Warnings: language, angst, mutual pining, sad!Joel, amnesia, slow burn, descriptions of wounds/injuries, some smutty situations but nothing very explicit, dare I say fluff?
WC: 8.2K
Series Masterlist
"Joel, wake up."
He groaned and squeezed his eyes shut even tighter.
"C'mon. You gotta get up."
"Five more minutes," he mumbled.
"Joel," you tried again, your voice sounding so far away. Why did you sound so far away? "Joel, please wake up. I need you."
You needed him. Okay. For you, he would wake up.
His eyelids fluttered.
"Joel?"
Your voice didn't sound so far away now.
"Joel? Can you hear me?"
Fuck, his head hurt. His side hurt. Everything fucking hurt.
Then he remembered.
He forced his eyes open, blinking rapidly as his pupils adjusted to the bright light until he focused on you. You.
You were so pretty. So, so pretty, standing next to his bed with that little worried crease between your eyebrows, leaning over him. You didn't need to be so worried. Don't be worried.
Your eyes brightened when he saw you and he slowly began to recognize where he was.
He was back in Jackson. At the infirmary, in a bed.
You jumped up, calling over your shoulder for Nick and Tommy before turning back to him and grasping his hand.
"Are you in pain?"
He didn't answer. He just stared at you, dumbfounded, his brain struggling to catch up. He squeezed your hand and you gave him a shaky smile.
Tommy and Nick barged into the room and you dropped his hand. Nick began to take his vitals while Tommy tried to stay out of the way, but Joel's focus remained on you. He watched as you drifted around the room on autopilot, handing Nick instruments and supplies from a table, then disappearing out into the hall when he asked you to get some medicine he had no idea how to pronounce.
"What's your pain like, Joel?" Nick asked, reading the blood pressure cuff.
He opened his mouth to answer but immediately started coughing. Tommy twisted around to grab the water bottle next to the sink and Nick lifted it to his lips. "Slow," he reminded him, so Joel sipped slowly then sat back with a sigh.
He was so tired.
"Your pain?"
Joel took a deep breath and winced.
"Ain't great," he croaked, voice all gravelly. You came back into the room and handed Nick the medicine, giving Joel a reassuring smile. God, he missed you so much.
He heard Nick ask you to fill a syringe for him and Joel watched you work, your hands steady and your breath even as you concentrated on getting the dosage exactly right.
"Joel? Did you hear me?"
"Huh?" he asked in a daze, dragging his eyes to his brother.
"I said, what the hell happened out there?" Tommy was pressed up against the wall, making himself as small as possible while you and Nick worked.
"Ran into some raiders- fuck!" he exclaimed when the needle entered his skin.
"Sorry," Nick murmured before pulling it out.
"Where?" Tommy asked, and Joel shook his head.
"Not 'round here. Out in California."
Everyone in the room paused to look at him.
"You got this fucked up out in Cali and you made it back?" Tommy asked in disbelief, and Joel slowly nodded his head. "Fuckin'... how?"
Joel's eyes found yours again, the corner of his mouth twitching up into a half smile.
"Had a guardian angel," he said, his eyelids beginning to droop.
"The hell does that mean?" Tommy asked. Joel pointed to his pack on the floor.
"Side pocket."
Nick lifted the blanket covering Joel's bare torso so he could inspect his wounds, which had been freshly cleaned and patched up in his sleep. Then he heard the telltale sound of pills rattling in a plastic bottle.
"You found meds out there?" his brother asked, rolling the bottle around in his palm before handing it over to Nick.
"Mhm," was all he said, then watched as you looked over Nick's shoulder to read the label. Your eyes went wide with surprise then looked up at him.
Your lips parted like you wanted to say something, then your gaze darted to the other two men in the room and you decided against it.
"This probably saved you from getting sepsis," Nick said before placing the bottle on the small table next to his bed. "I'm gonna need to keep you here for a bit," and as Joel began to protest, Nick held up his hand. "Just for a bit, I said. Til you get your strength up and I feel confident you don't got any infection or serious internal damage. Then you can go home and recover."
You could see the turmoil in Joel's face. He wanted to go home, he wanted to be in the comfort of his own bed after a week of putting himself through hell.
"I'll stay here overnight, keep an eye on him and come get you if anything seems off," you said, and all three men paused to look at you in surprise. You shrugged and cleared your throat. "Unless you don't-"
"No," Joel said, cutting you off. His throat felt so tight all of the sudden. "Please stay."
Nick and Tommy exchanged glances before shifting around the room, gathering used instruments and picking up Joel's discarded, bloody clothes.
"I'll grab the cot for you," Nick said on his way out the door.
"Do you need anythin' from home?" Tommy asked and you quickly shook your head.
"I'll be fine."
Joel wanted to tell you everything, but he could feel himself fading. Another time, he thought as you rolled out the cot on the floor next to his bed. You turned off the light before he drifted off to sleep, finally being able to properly rest now that he was back with you.
It took five whole days until Nick finally agreed to let him go home. You stayed with him every night, only going back home to shower and get fresh clothes once a day. It seemed like he was always surrounded by Tommy or Ellie or Nick and there was never a good time to talk to you. He wanted to tell you why he did what he did, he wanted to give you some comfort. But any time the two of you were alone, it was always too brief or he was asleep.
Unbeknownst to Joel, you were struggling with the same issue. You wanted to get some time alone together so you could talk to him about everything you had a chance to reflect on while he was gone, but you knew it would likely be a long and emotional conversation and you really didn't want to do it at work.
There was so much that needed to be said, but the rare few minutes you had alone together you spent holding his hand or feeding him or gently wiping the sweat off his forehead and chest with a wet washcloth. You hoped your actions spoke louder than the words you weren't brave enough to say.
Nick helped you restock your first aid kit at home while Tommy got Joel settled back in his bed. You could hear them talking from the hallway, Tommy scolding his brother when he didn't listen to him and he ended up wincing in pain.
"So you're gonna want to make sure he takes this twice a day with food," Nick said, handing you a bottle of orange pills. "For inflammation. Til you run out, then he should be good. And this is only if the pain gets intolerable," he handed you a small baggie of four white pills and narrowed his eyes. "Use them sparingly, we don't have much."
"I know."
"He shouldn't need any more antibiotics but be sure to take his temperature throughout the day and push the fluids. If the numbers get over 102 for more than four hours, come get me right away."
"Okay," you nodded, hoping your sleep deprived brain was absorbing everything.
"Maria agreed to help out at the infirmary for the next couple days, so take as much time as you need. You know I can manage without you," Nick said, and you gave him a feigned look of hurt. "I can manage, I said. Doesn't mean I prefer it," he told you with a roll of his eyes and you had a stifle a laugh. Tommy stepped out of Joel's room and joined you at the top of the stairs.
"All good?"
"I think so," you said, looking back down at the pills Nick gave you.
"You need anythin', you just holler, sugar," Tommy said and you gave him a tired smile in return. The two men walked down the steps and saw themselves out while you filled a glass with water from the sink in the bathroom, bringing it to Joel.
"How are you feeling?" you asked him for what felt like the millionth time in a week.
"Not bad," he said truthfully. You handed him the water and although he wasn't thirsty, he still drank it because it seemed to make you happy and he really liked when you took care of him.
You shifted your weight and glanced around the room awkwardly.
"Do you need anything? Are you hungry? Do you want me to get you a book or something?"
Joel smiled and dropped his gaze to the floor. You were so fucking cute and it was killing him.
"I'm good."
"Good," you nodded, chewing on your bottom lip as you tried to find another reason to stay. When you couldn't think of one, you sighed and hitched your thumb over your shoudler.
"I'll be right next door and I'll leave the doors open. If you need anything or if you're in pain-"
"I know," he said, giving you a soft smile as you tried your best to not stare at his bare chest peeking out from the top of the sheets.
"Okay, then," you said, backing out of the room. "Good night."
You had no idea how long you laid in your bed, staring up at the ceiling while your mind raced and your fingers tapped anxiously against your chest. You couldn't sleep. It must have been hours because the light flicking off in Joel's room felt like ages ago and you hadn't heard any shuffling since.
It's this bed, you thought to yourself. It was the first time in a long time you slept in your own bed and you just couldn't get comfortable.
Or maybe you were too worried about him, even though it seemed like most of his strength was back. The color returned to his cheeks and he was able to stay awake most of the day. Deep down, you knew there wasn't a need to be concerned about him at that point. In all likelihood he was out of the woods. But you still felt the urge to check on him. Just in case.
You slid out of bed and tiptoed quietly out of your room, walking the few feet to Joel's door and leaning against the frame. You tried to observe him from a distance but it was hard to see in the dark, so you crept closer.
He was sound asleep, his hands resting peacefully over his soft stomach, his lips parted ever so slightly as he lightly snored. You bit the inside of your cheek and looked at the other side of the bed. Deciding not to overthink it, you closed the door and silently made your way around the foot of the bed and slipped underneath the covers with a quiet sigh.
Just for a minute, you thought. You had just grown so accustomed to sleeping in his bed, that's all. But before you knew it, his steady breathing and soft pillows lulled you into a deep sleep.
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The sun bled through the curtains, inching across the floorboards and slowly made its way up the sheets until it found your face, but you didn't wake. Instead, you buried your face deeper into the warmth underneath you, far too comfortable to bother waking up just yet.
Joel, however, had been awake before the sun even rose.
He had felt your arms wrapped around his waist at some point towards the early morning. He had managed to turn so your head rested against his bare chest while you continued to sleep so peacefully. It was far too tempting. He fucking ached for you for so long and to wake up and find you in his bed caused his heart to flutter wildly in his chest and all his blood to rush directly between his legs.
He had been doing okay. He was content with just holding you, feeling you, pretending things were back to normal, if only for a little while, but when you nuzzled into his chest and tightened your grip around his waist, he couldn't resist burying his nose in your hair and breathing in deep. He missed you so much it fucking hurt. It was torture, fighting the urge to pull you into him every day and crawl into bed with you at night. He knew it would backfire one day, all his pent up emotions. When Angie caught him during a particularly low point at the Tipsy Bison, drunk and sad and missing you so fucking much, it all blew up in his face. Kissing her was a mistake but he was just so goddamn lonely. He didn't realize how much he had come to depend on your touch to soothe him until he no longer had it.
He wouldn't make that mistake ever again.
He thought he ruined everything in one moment of weakness, but here you were, tucked safely into his side, sound asleep in his arms and he didn't even dare question what brought you into his bed because all that mattered was you were there now. And you made that decision yourself. You sought him out. You wanted to be with him.
Testing the waters, he carefully pressed a kiss on the top of your head, and when you didn't react, he did it again. Sliding his eyes closed, he dragged his lips a little lower, kissing your forehead while he savored the feeling of your breath fanning over his neck. Other than your fingertips fluttering slightly against his stomach, you still didn't move, so he kissed your forehead again. You were so warm and you smelled just like him that he quickly felt himself getting lost in his desire. His kisses became faster and more urgent, finally causing your breathing to change and your body to stir. He knew you were waking but he kept his eyes closed, too afraid of seeing apathy in the face that used to be filled with such love for him.
He was just setting himself up for more heartbreak but he couldn't seem to stop.
His lips traveled a little lower, pressing tenderly against your temple, bracing himself for when you would inevitably push him away. Maybe you weren't fully awake yet because you remained perfectly still, so he continued to take and take, his kisses becoming feverish as he brushed over your eyelids. God, he missed this so much. He missed these lazy mornings with you. They were rare, but on days neither of you had any other commitments you would lounge in bed for as long as your stomachs would allow, holding each other close, getting lost under the sheets.
His time was coming to an end now. Your arms loosened around his waist and soon you would realize where you were and who you were with and it would all be over. He breathed deeply, as if he could bottle you for later. Maybe his sheets would trap your scent. He really hoped they would. He could use another good night's sleep and having you at his side had always ensured that, but he could pretend as long as his pillow still smelled like you.
With his lips still roaming over your brow, you stretched your legs and let out a breathy little noise that made his cock twitch and his stomach tense. He kept his eyes screwed shut, hoping you would assume he was half asleep and therefore unaware of his lips dragging across your face. He didn't want to lie to you again but his heart could only handle so much rejection.
He felt your eyes flutter open, your eyelashes tickling his neck and he really should have stopped kissing you at that point, but it felt like he was spiraling out of control. Like his body had enough of constantly being denied what it craved.
You paused for a moment, giving your brain a chance to catch up. Figuring out where you were and why you were there. Any second now, you would pull away. He kept bracing for it, his heart thundering in his chest now that it knew time was running out, that this feeling of bliss was about to end and it was scrambling to hold on to every split second.
Thinking it would be the last chance, he kissed the corner of your eye and then your cheek. There was no way he would be able to pretend he was still asleep now, but he didn't care. He was growing frantic, his need for you overwhelming, even if this was all he could get, it would have to sustain him until he could figure out how to earn back your trust.
His eyes flew open when your lips pressed wetly against his neck. He froze, his mouth hovering over your ear, waiting to see what you would do next.
Then you did it again. Only this time, you sucked on a bit of his skin, leaving the beginnings of a red mark he would cherish for days.
Before you could blink, he rolled over, his body caging you in underneath him as he examined you with wide and hopeful eyes. You gazed up at him, your breath shallow and your lips parted as your eyes roamed over his face, taking in every freckle and every wrinkle up close. His beard was getting grayer in spots you hadn't noticed before, somehow adding to his appeal. His lips looked dry from the cold but his eyes looked bright and clear and the way the sun was beaming in through the window behind him, his messy curls sticking up every which way made it look like he was wearing a halo.
With a shaky hand, you reached up to thread your fingers through his hair. It was so much softer than you expected. His eyes fluttered shut and he leaned into your touch. You watched his throat work as he swallowed nervously and you wanted nothing more in that moment than to taste the skin there again, so you did. Leaning up, your lips suckled at the spot between his jaw and neck, his pulse strong and fast under your tongue. A reminder that he was alive and healthy and finally back home. Your nails raked against his scalp and you sucked at his skin a little harder, a little more urgently, a little more desperately and then he was the first to break.
He whimpered.
He fucking whimpered and that was all it took for you to maneuver slightly under him and spread your legs, wrapping them around his waist and pulling him close.
Fuck. He was hard. You felt it in the loose confines of his sweatpants, bobbing against your center when you pulled him down further and it set something on fire inside of you.
You brought your other hand up to get lost in his hair, giving it a tug to pull his head back just a bit so you could angle your mouth over his and you latched onto him hungrily, the contact sending a jolt through your entire body. He slipped his tongue past your teeth and finally allowed himself to touch you, hand cupping your jaw at first, then dropping to grip your ass under the sheets before sliding up your shirt, rough fingers skating up your stomach, then brushing over your tightened nipples, drawing out a sweet little moan which he swallowed down eagerly.
He flattened his hand over your heart, leaving it there as he licked into your mouth, both your jaws pried open as far as they could go, as if you were trying to swallow the other whole. He could feel your heart pounding through your chest, like it was trying to break free and jump into his palm. Like it was saying here, take me, I'm yours. And if you were to untangle your hands from his hair and place one over his own racing heart, he had no doubt you would hear what it was screaming in his chest.
I love you, I love you, I love you so fucking much, I'm so sorry, please forgive me.
And of course you forgave him. He was in just as much pain as you. Both of you had been mourning the same person without even realizing it.
And none of that seemed to matter anymore. Not in that moment, anyway. The two of you tangled together, the early morning glow from the sun washing over you, wrapping you up safe and sound in each other's arms.
You dropped your hands, abandoning his hair, nails dragging over his broad shoulders and leaving little red trails in their wake. His own hand slid down from your chest to grab your hip, pulling you impossibly closer to him, forcing you to feel how hard he was for you. All for you.
His facial hair burned your chin but you didn't mind. In fact, it felt good. You chased the feeling, pushing your mouth even harder against him, wanting to make sure you would feel that burn for the rest of the day.
Then you heard a knock on the front door.
Joel didn't react.
Either too lost in the moment or unwilling to allow it to end. Your hands drifted lower, over his relatively smooth chest and over his ribs, your fingertips dancing over each one like piano keys, careful to avoid his wound.
Another knock, louder now, made you pause. Breaking free and turning your head slightly to the side to open your eyes, you tried to listen, but Joel's mouth just slid down your jaw, nipping playfully as he went before biting gently on your earlobe. You gasped softly, momentarily forgetting about the door, your back arching underneath him. His tongue flattened against the hollow of your exposed throat, his exhale tickled your skin and caused a wave of goosebumps to emerge and he smirked, tongue still lavishing your neck as his fingers dug harder into your hip, like he was afraid to let you go.
Now you heard the front door unlock and carelessly swing open, but Joel still didn't stop.
"Joel," you whispered, your voice raspy from disuse. He only hummed in response, then his mouth latched onto your clothed breast, his tongue flicking against the thin material and you had to bite your lip to keep from crying out because you heard Ellie's voice now, along with Tommy's, making their way up the stairs.
"Joel!" you said, firmer this time and pushing him back. His dark eyes snapped up to yours, his parted lips wet and swollen as he gasped for air. Thankfully, it sounded like they had tried the master bedroom first. You heard Tommy's heavy steps enter your bathroom before walking back out into the hall and it finally clicked with Joel that you were no longer alone.
"Fuck," he muttered right before the door swung open. He dropped his upper body to cover yours best he could, protecting your modesty even though you were still fully clothed.
"Shit! Sorry!" Tommy exclaimed, backing out of the room. You squeezed your eyes shut as embarrassment flooded your veins, tucking your face into Joel's neck to hide.
"What-" you heard Ellie say from the hall, then the door slammed shut, leaving just you and Joel. The two of you stayed frozen, his body still pinning yours into the mattress under the covers, legs still wrapped around his waist as you listened to Tommy and Ellie's hushed voices trail down the stairs.
"Fuck," he sighed again, dropping his head against your shoulder.
Your heart fluttered in your chest as the both of you slowly regained your senses. Your hands drifted lightly over his back as he nuzzled into your neck, and you were perfectly content to remain just like that, but unfortunately he pushed himself up on his elbows with a sigh.
"I should go see what he wants," he murmured, giving you a heated look that told you talking to his brother was the last thing he wanted to do.
"Okay," you squeaked, feeling your cheeks warm under his gaze. He looked like he wanted to say something else but decided against it and instead sat up with a grunt. You pulled the covers back over you, the cool morning air prickling your skin now that you didn't have his body heat to keep you warm, and watched as he fumbled around the room for a discarded shirt. When his back was turned, he tried to subtly tuck his throbbing cock into his waistband, but you noticed and bit back a grin. Secretly, you were grateful for the interruption. As much as you wanted him, you needed to take things slow.
He walked down the stairs, his pace slower than usual as he favored his side with the wound. When his eyes met Tommy's in the kitchen, he saw the flash of guilt across his face for interrupting what was shaping up to be a really good fucking morning.
"Sorry," he said again, glancing quickly at the back of Ellie's head as she rummaged through the pantry for something to eat, completely oblivious to what they almost walked in on. "The kid let me in."
"Yeah, I got that," Joel grumbled as he made his way to the coffee maker and flipped the switch.
"Hey Joel, can I take this?" Ellie held up a box of granola bars and he nodded. She ripped into one and practically shoved half of it into her mouth. "How's it feel to be back home?" she asked with a mouthful of sticky oats. Joel made a disgusted face at the visual and she smirked at his reaction.
"Good," was all he said, turning away before the heat crept up his neck. It felt really fucking good to be home. "So what's goin' on?" he asked Tommy, who was leaning up against the kitchen sink.
"Couple of guys found some tracks this mornin'," Tommy began, and the hairs on the back of Joel's neck stood up.
"Tracks?" you questioned as you appeared in the doorway in a fresh set of clothes. Joel tried not to let his gaze linger on you, noting with a sick sense of pride that your neck still looked a little pink from his mouth, but it was hard. He should have just stayed in bed with you.
"Doesn't look like a big group," he said as Joel's face fell. "It ain't your fault-"
"They followed me here, Tommy," Joel rubbed the heels of his hands into his eyes.
"We'll handle it," Tommy replied calmly while you and Ellie sat down silently at the table to listen. "Shit was bound to happen sooner or later."
"Goddamnit," Joel growled angrily under his breath. "I shoulda been more careful. Stupid fuckin'-"
"Joel, you were passed out on the back of a horse," Tommy reasoned, "it's a miracle you even made it back at all. The tracks were a few miles south, I'm gonna get a group together later this mornin' and see what we can find."
"I'll go with you," he said but before Tommy could respond, you piped up.
"No, you're not."
Joel twisted around, taking in the alarmed look on your face. He held your gaze for a moment, your eyes pleading with him. Please don't. I just got you back. He immediately caved.
"Okay," he agreed, and you visibly relaxed with a smile. You desperately wanted to go to him, pull him close and thank him for listening to you, but your audience held you back.
Ellie glanced between the two of you with a knowing grin, finally sensing the change in the room.
"I wasn't lookin' for volunteers, anyway," Tommy said, breaking the heavy silence and pushing off the counter. "Just comin' by to tell you what's goin' on. We're headin' out in an hour, I'll stop by later and let you know what we find."
The coffee maker beeped and Joel grabbed two mugs from the cupboard. "Be careful out there," he told his brother as Tommy slid on his boots and swung open the door. "Don't do anythin' stupid."
"That's rich, comin' from you," he replied with a chuckle and Ellie snorted. Joel shot him a glare before he left, pouring coffee into each of your mugs. He took a grateful sip before bringing yours to the table and sat down. The both of you sipped your coffees in silence, eyes glued to the table while trying to ignore the obvious tension building. Ellie began to connect the dots and stood up.
"I should get going," she announced.
"You don't have to-"
"Stay and warm up a bit-"
She cut you both off. "I got shit to do. Homework and all that," she said, lying through her teeth as she headed for her boots. "Don't worry, I'll lock it behind me," she teased, slipping out the front door while your cheeks burned hot with embarrassment.
"Jesus," you muttered and Joel had to hold back a laugh. He stared down at his coffee, the mug now half filled with the dark, steaming liquid as he struggled to come up with something to say. There was so much he didn't even know where to start.
"Oh! Your meds!" you exclaimed, jumping up from your chair to retrieve the little orange pills Nick gave you the night before. "He said you need to take these with food. Let me make you something," you told him while you shuffled around pots and pans, looking for anything to keep yourself busy.
He sat back in his chair and watched you move around the kitchen with ease. Pulling oatmeal out of the pantry, measuring it out, boiling the pot with water.
You looked nervous. The thought made him smile. He made you nervous.
Right as you turned the burner off and grabbed a bowl you felt his hands circle your hips. You sighed and couldn't resist melting against him, closing your eyes for a moment and resting the back of your head against his shoulder while he buried his face in the crook of your neck.
"Thank you," he whispered while pressing a chaste kiss behind your ear.
"It's just oatmeal," you whispered back. He swallowed and shook his head before planting another kiss in the same spot.
"No, it's not."
You knew what he was trying to say and it made your heart swell. Thank you for taking care of me. Thank you for giving me a chance. Thank you for staying. Thank you for saving my life. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
"You're welcome," you replied, your voice wavering a bit as you turned around in his arms. You laced your fingers together behind his neck and gazed up at him, examining every wrinkle and scar, fighting the urge to kiss each and every one.
"I love you," he said softly while his thumbs tucked underneath the hem of your shirt, searching for any bit of your soft skin he could find. "I know you can't say it back yet and that's okay. I just really needed to tell you."
You blinked back your tears and nodded, pulling him down to your level and slotting your lips together once again. He sighed as his shoulders relaxed and for the first time everything just felt right so you tentatively flicked your tongue over his lower lip. You felt him smile before he allowed you to deepen the kiss, your tongue slowly and deeply massaging his as he pulled your body closer, pressing you firmly against him.
A deep groan rumbled from his chest when you raked your fingers through his hair, your knees practically buckling at the sound. He walked you backwards until you felt the counter pressing against your back, his kisses growing hungrier and his fingers gripping your hips tighter.
"Your food's getting cold," you mumbled, turning your face towards the oatmeal cooling on the stove.
"Don't care," he said, his lips grazing over your throat. He missed you so much and now that he finally had you, he couldn't get enough. When he dropped to his knees, his fingers hooking into the waistband of your jeans and his mouth ghosting over the apex of your thighs, you gasped and grabbed his hair, stopping him.
"I-I'm not ready for all that yet," you admitted as the warmth of embarrassment flooded your cheeks and chest. "I'm sorry, I know you've been waiting for so long-"
"Shh, it's okay," he said sincerely, then stood back up with a grunt. He cupped your face and gave you a gentle kiss. "I can wait. I'll wait forever, I don't care," he still cradled your jaw as he nuzzled his nose alongside yours.
"This is all I ever want, anyway," he whispered, and you smiled.
It was the first day of your fresh start.
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Nick had offered you time off to care for Joel but it quickly became apparent as the day went on that he was doing far better than any of you expected.
He only had a little trouble going up the stairs so the two of you spent the rest of the day in the living room. You had thought he was going to try and nap so you busied yourself with a book, his head resting in your lap as your fingers absentmindedly carded through his curls while you read on the couch, the fire crackling next to you. It wasn't until you lifted your hand to flip a page when you noticed his eyes on you and you grinned.
"I thought you were going to try and sleep?"
"Not very tired," he replied, gently reaching up for your wrist and putting your hand back in his hair. "Feels real nice," he explained. You put your book face down, the spine spread open to hold your place, and began playing with his hair again.
"Joel?"
"Hm?"
"Did you go to my parents' house?"
Shit. In all the chaos since arriving back in Jackson he never had a chance to tell you.
"Yes," he said, staring up at you from your lap, watching as the shadow from the flames danced across your face.
"Is that where it happened?" you asked, your eyes traveling to the side where he was stabbed. He nodded and you sniffled, dropping your gaze to the floor. "I thought so. Because of the pills," you said quietly, "my name was on the bottle."
"I know," he replied, watching as your eyes clouded with guilt. He frowned. "What's wrong?"
"You got hurt because of me," you said, lower lip trembling. "If I hadn't been so immature we could've talked about it but instead I pushed you away and you almost died trying to prove a point-"
"Hey," he cut you off and sat up next to you, "it's not your fault, don't you dare think that, alright?" He cupped your face but you still refused to meet his eye. "I fucked up. It was on me, okay? I fucked up with Angie and I fucked up out there."
"You could've died," you said, two tears trickling down your cheeks. He wiped them away with his thumbs.
"But I didn't."
You took in a shaky breath and finally looked at him. "Don't do something like that ever again," you told him, an undercurrent of anger in your voice, and he smirked.
"Yes, ma'am."
He dropped his hold on your face and leaned back, stretching his arm across the top of the couch. "Can't deny it got results, though," he teased after a moment and you shot him a glare but he could see you biting back a smile. You picked up your book, leaning into his shoulder just a bit as you continued to read and he stared into the fire, his mind still reeling to catch up with how fast things changed. It felt like a dream.
"What did you go there for, anyway?"
Joel rolled his eyes. "It sounds so stupid now."
You put your book back down and twisted to face him. "I'm sure it's not."
With a groan, Joel pushed himself up from the couch and began to rummage through his backpack, which remained idle next to the door since the day before. You tucked your legs underneath you and watched curiously.
When he pulled out a familiar looking binder, a faded beige color with a black trim, you could have sworn your heart stopped.
"I wanted to give you somethin' that you would recognize. Somethin' that felt like home," he began, holding it out to you. "Maybe bring you some comfort or... I don't know. Like I said, it sounds stupid now."
"No," you whispered as you carefully took the album from his hands. "Not stupid, Joel." You pursed your lips as you stared at the cover, your fingertips gently skirting over the fabric. Your family was right in your lap. So many wonderful memories... right fucking there.
The tears welled up without warning and began to pour down your cheeks.
"Are you okay?" he asked, and you nodded.
"Yeah," you said, laughing through the tears. "You... you gave me my family back, Joel. How-" your voice cracked and you averted your gaze, doing your best to compose yourself but you knew it was no use. "How could you think this was stupid? This is everything to me."
He gave you a shy smile and shrugged. "Then it was worth it."
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He had been listening to you for the better part of an hour as you walked him through each photo in the album and his only regret was he wasn't able to stay long enough in California to find more pictures. He loved hearing you talk about your family, about your childhood, about everything you loved. The look on your face and the tone of your voice was all he ever wanted. You were so fucking happy, so content and at ease that he knew without a doubt if he had to go through it all over again, he would do it in a heartbeat.
"Oh my god, so this was taken the day Matty tried to teach me to surf," you said with a giggle, dragging his eyes from your face to a picture of you and your brother on the beach in wetsuits. "He had learned in college because he went to school on the coast. I told you that, right?"
"Yep," he said with a warm smile.
"Anyway, it went as well as you could imagine. I have no coordination whatsoever. I fell, like, every single time, no matter how small the wave... Oh! This must have been his graduation," you said, pointing to the next photo of the four of you all dressed up in front of a regal looking building. "He was so smart, Joel. He was going to be a chemist. Who does that? Who majors in Chemistry? I absolutely hated chem," you said with a shake of your head. Your eyes hadn't stopped shining since you opened the album and the smile never left your face. Your gaze softened and you quieted down as you stared down lovingly at the pictures, your fingers tracing over them delicately. Occasionally you would tell him a story and other times you would grow quiet and thoughtful. He sat by your side and just listened, letting you work through your feelings and memories at your own pace.
"I miss them so much," you eventually said softly.
"I know," he replied, pressing a kiss to the side of your head.
"Thank you, Joel," you said, voice thick with emotion when you turned to look at him. Your eyes were wide and wet with unshed tears, and he saw your throat bob when you swallowed tightly. "This means so much to me, I don't know how to put it into words."
"You're welcome, baby," he told you. He pinched your chin and leaned in to kiss you when a sharp knock sounded from the door.
He stood with a frustrated huff and you hid your smile, setting the photo album down on the sofa next to you.
"Hey, come in," Joel said once he opened the door. Tommy stepped through and shrugged off his coat, locking eyes and giving you a nod. "What'd you find?"
"There were only four. Two of 'em were half frozen and the other two didn't have much fight in 'em."
You made a face and looked away as Joel led Tommy into the kitchen.
"Who were they?" Joel asked, and you heard the telltale sound of liquid pouring from a bottle. You stood and made your way towards the kitchen.
"Don't know," Tommy admitted, tossing back the whiskey. Joel gave him a refill right as you were entering the room. "We questioned the two that were conscious but they didn't give us much. Said they were alone. Said they were part of a bigger group that got picked off."
"The men I killed?" Joel asked, brow furrowed as he took a sip of whiskey.
"They didn't say, but they did tell us a few of their guys were out scavenging and never made it back, so maybe."
Joel nodded and you leaned against the doorframe, crossing your arms.
"You think they were tellin' the truth? That there ain't any more of 'em?"
Tommy shrugged. "Didn't have reason to think otherwise. We scoured the area. Couldn't find any other tracks-"
"But the snow coulda covered it up," Joel offered anxiously. He scratched his chin, staring blankly at the floor while the gears turned in his head. "They probably followed the horse tracks and when the snow got to be too much, they lost their way. They were comin' for me, Tommy."
For some reason it never occurred to you that those men were looking for revenge. It sent a shiver down your spine.
"Or they were just lookin' for someplace warm. You don't know, Joel. Besides, it don't matter now. It's dealt with."
Joel didn't look convinced but he kept his mouth shut, for your sake. He could tell he was worrying you and he had already put you through enough as it was.
"Listen, I oughta get back to Maria. I'm sure she's got her hands full," Tommy said after a brief silence. He handed Joel his empty glass and shot you a look. "Don't worry, sugar. We got this under control."
You gave him a tight smile and moved out of his way so he could gather his things.
"Thank you," you told him quietly while Joel rinsed out their glasses.
His eyes flicked up to yours as he laced up his boots. "Don't mention it. Ain't nothin' bad gonna happen, I promise."
You wished his words brought you some comfort but you couldn't shake the nagging voice in the back of your head.
"C'mon. Why don't you show me more pictures," Joel urged once Tommy was on his way. It was clear he was trying to get your mind off things.
"Actually, I think I'm gonna go to bed," you told him. He was in the middle of picking up your photo album when he paused and glanced up. His eyes scanned your face, clocking the anxiety you were trying to hide. He could tell you still felt responsible, even though he had insisted what happened wasn't your fault, and now the raiders following him back into the mountains just made matters worse.
"Are you sure?"
"Yeah," you replied, your voice sounding more confident as you tried to shrug off the bad feeling Tommy left. Your eyes flickered to his awkwardly. "Do you... need help getting up the stairs?"
He frowned and shook his head, too lost in his own head to pick up on what you were too nervous to really ask. "I'll be alright. Go get some rest, I'm gonna stay up for a bit."
After you went to bed, he tried to distract himself from the possibility he put the entire town, but more importantly, you, at risk. He poured another glass of whiskey and picked up a book, but he found himself rereading the same paragraph over and over for half an hour.
What a stupid fucking thing to do. He pinched the bridge of his nose, kicking himself for being so careless. Maybe he could convince you tomorrow to let him go out with Tommy. He trusted his brother, but he knew he would feel better if he explored the area himself. He knew he had to be careful. He made so much progress with you, he couldn't risk fucking that up, either, and based on the way you looked at him earlier, it was clear the prospect of him leaving Jackson again so soon scared you.
Warmth bloomed in his chest and the corners of his lips twitched into a smile. The idea of you scared didn't please him, but scared for him? Well, that was different.
The way he woke up that morning still felt like a dream. Your arms wrapped around him, your face nuzzled into his shoulder, your scent invading his senses. It felt strange for a split second until his memories came flooding back from a time when he woke up like that every single day and he foolishly wondered if you had finally remembered. Once you opened your eyes he knew instantly you hadn't, but somehow he was even more excited that someone as perfect as you found your way into his bed twice.
Bed.
He sighed and rubbed his eyes before tossing back the rest of his whiskey. He was procrastinating now, tending to the fire one last time before dragging himself back to his empty bed. How was he going to sleep when he knew you were right in the next room? God, what he wouldn't give to curl up in bed with you.
He froze, the poker hovering in the air halfway towards the fire as he thought back to your words when you went to bed, now hours ago.
Do you need help getting up the stairs?
You sounded a little strange but at the time he just chalked it up to Tommy's news about the raiders. When you asked if he needed help, were you trying to get him to come up and sleep with you?
"Oh, you fuckin' idiot," he growled to himself under his breath before slotting the poker back in the stand. Was it too late?
He crept quietly up the steps, hoping to see your light on under your door but unfortunately, your room was dark. Shit.
Changing into his sweatpants, he mentally chastised himself for being so goddamn thick and missing his opportunity to go to bed with you. After he washed up, he paced around his room, anxiously chewing his nail and wondering what he should do. Should he just go to sleep? Should he slip into your bed the way you did the night before? Would you be upset if he did?
Just when he thought he was about to wear a hole into the thin carpet he heard a light tapping on his bedroom door. He froze and held his breath, wondering if he imagined it until he heard it again.
He rushed to the door and whipped it open where he found you standing in the hallway wearing a thin T-shirt and sweatpants of your own. You didn't look like you had just woken up, your eyes didn't look like they were clouded with sleep. You were waiting for him.
Your gaze darted quickly over his bare chest, like you were trying not to look but couldn't help yourself. His cock twitched, excited by the notion that you could be fighting your own arousal, same as him.
"Can I stay with you?" you asked, your voice impossibly small and fuck, his heart squeezed in his chest at how sweet you were in that moment.
"Yeah," he breathed, hoping he didn't sound as desperate as he felt. He widened the door and stepped aside, watching as you slipped past him and curled up underneath his sheets.
Neither of you said a word. He just flicked off the light and slid into bed beside you, turning onto his side and pulling you against him. His face nuzzled the back of your neck and his arms wrapped around your waist and he heard you sigh. He held you close and with tears in his eyes whispered how sorry he was, how he would never hurt you again, how he was weak and stupid and he loved you so much.
You didn't say much in return. Just the occasional nod or sniffle or squeeze of his hand in acknowledgement.
All of the stress and anguish from the past several months were the furthest things from both your minds as you fell asleep that night, each of you finally assured that everything was going to be okay.
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Note
Am i the A-hole for trying to protect a women focused space?
I'm the mod from the super one sided retelling of the "Refusing to change OC's sexuality to bi/pan" situation. Shin (the person who wrote that post) know i don't use tumblr so of course he bring the drama here so that people would judge "Laura" and me without knowing the full truth. Thankfully, a dear friend of mine who followed this blog told me about this and was kind enough to allowed me to send this ask using her account.
First of all, it's pretty clear that Shin is lying about his identity. Shin said he is a trans man but he admitted that he don't want to transition beside wanting flat chest. Shin also said that he is south east asian but his display name and his OC's name are all japanese, which is a huge sign of white weeb fetishizing japanese culture. The fact that his english and understanding of slangs is way too good to be south east asian.
Secondly, Shin joining this server knowing that 90% of the members are yumejoshi, he should be grateful of the fact that we even allowed those yaoi characters invading what basically a space for women. I know we advertised the RP as a non-shipping focus death game story but you should have read the room and know what type of people this space is catering to and not bring your gay character in if you didn't want him to be shipped with women.
Thirdly, if Shin was uncomfortable then he should have made it clear from the start instead of letting "Laura"s character flirting with his, like having him respond rudely or out right rejecting her or something. Shin said he is having undiagnosed autism in his bio then he should have understand how it feel when people don't state what they mean clearly. His OC still being nice to "Laura"'s OC even if he didn't like the flirting, of course she would misunderstand that his OC developed romantic feeling for her OC.
Fourthly, Shin said before that he didn't count alternate timeline versions of a character from a visual novel he likes the same as the original timeline version because of their different life experiences then why can't he do the same to his OC? Why can't he just agree to let "Laura" make an alternate version of his character if in his logic they are completely different people? Hypocrite much?
And finally, "Laura" was very upset about this and it took her a while to move on, she could have hurt herself back then because of you. Also, we had to revised our server's rules and banned all the non-yumejoshies, which cut several RPs short.
So who is really the A-hole here?
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 2 days
Text
just for tonight
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a/n: sure, I was vigilantly working on a different wip (a very long one that needed a lot of strength to get through) but then this whole fantasy came to me and i just couldn't stop myself... at least i downgraded the idea from a full-fledged series (which i sadly very much do not have the time for) to just a slutty little one shot in an au that i can always pop back into whenever the itch pops up (or when anyone has a slutty request for it hehe).
summary: before you could even consider the possible consequences, a desperate request then fell from your lips, “well, what if I’m not asking you to be with me? What if it’s just for tonight? What if I’m only asking you to be with me for one night? Would you give me that?” you blinked up at him, scarcely breathing at all, “would you be mine just till the sun comes up?” 
warnings: bodyguard!bucky barnes x reader, smut, reader's mom is the british ambassador to france, age gap (10-15 years), tattooed!bucky (both a metal arm and tattoos as picked in a poll by you), beefy!bucky, forbidden romance, posh political party, alcohol consumption, wet dream, lingerie, stockings, one night stand (except we already know those fools can't keep it to just one night), kissing, dirty talk, manhandling, size kink, oral, fingering, impact play, squirting, gaping, belly bulge, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie
word count: 4907
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“You sure, you don’t want some?” you squinted over at your bodyguard as you lowered the champagne flute from your lips, “this shit costs more than my dress, which is really saying something,” you pointed to the red silk gown that hung from your frame, “this is Dior.”
“I’m good, miss,” Bucky uttered, tight-lipped as always. 
“Right, sorry,” you sat the glass down at the tall table you stood beside, “can’t drink while on duty.”
Posh parties such as the one tonight were always a bit of a drag to get through. Even though you’d been hauled along for most of your life, they’d never gotten any more amusing. 
But when your mother hired Barnes to be your personal bodyguard a few months back, the thought of getting dolled up just to have a bunch of provoking politicians talk your ear off about ideas you’d never in a million years support, somehow didn’t seem as bad as it used to now that he was constantly at your side. 
It had been a little incident involving your phone getting hacked, an explicit video nearly getting leaked, one that had been made for an ex who lived in another country to make the distance more barrable, and a few threatening messages from the perpetrator that had been the reason for your new shadow. 
Though you’d been resistant at first, storming into your mother’s office to state that you were a grown woman and didn’t need a babysitter just because someone tried to exploit an old sex tape that in your opinion wasn’t even that big of a deal, swiftly got squashed when a then stranger cleared his throat behind you and shared the more gruelling threats that had been made alongside the hacking. 
You’d hoped and prayed that he’d turn out to be a pain, that his personality could squash the feelings that fluttered inside of you whenever you looked at him, but unfortunately, he wasn’t an asshole. He was quiet, professional to a fault, but he wasn’t a dick. If anything, all of the silence and all of the glances to always keep track of you made the crush worse. It made you feel as if you were in a Jane Austen novel, reading between the lines of subtext your unreliable brain came up with.
“You tired?” he asked as a yawn rolled out of you. 
“Mhm,” you hummed behind the palm you had brought up to your lips. 
“The car’s ready to take you back to the embassy whenever you are.” 
A grateful smile twitched at your lip as you offered him a small nod of confirmation, “I’ll just go tell my mom.”
The ambassador, your mother, had her back turned to you as she talked business with a small group of people even though the hour had grown late. 
You waited for a sliver of a break before you tapped her on the shoulder and whispered in her ear.
“Hey, mom?” her palm found yours as she turned to look at you, “I’m gonna head home.”
“Oh, alright,” she leaned in and pressed a small peck to your cheek, “see you tomorrow, love.”
“Bye,” you gave her hand one last squeeze before heading out of the elegant venue, your guard still only a few paces behind you. 
A dusty drizzle met your skin as you exited onto the midnight streets of Paris. The sensation made you want to walk home, though you still followed Bucky to the black car already waiting and slipped in when he opened the back door for you. 
The light from the city reflected on the back of his metal hand as it gripped the steering wheel. You could faintly spot the prominent veins on the other one dance beneath the inked skin as it did the same, tattoos you still ached to discover just how far they stretched beneath his dark suit. 
Though soon your gaze flickered away from his silhouette as he drove, and fluttered out to the glittering cityscape rolling by, the vision of which swiftly lulled you to sleep. 
When you arrived home, Bucky’s steely eyes found your slumbering form in the rear-view mirror. You didn’t rouse when he opened your door and carefully picked you up into his arms. You didn’t wake either as he carried you inside, all the way up to your bedroom, and layed you down on your bed. 
Gently, he removed your heels and quietly placed them down on the hardwood floor before he grabbed your duvet and tugged it over your form. 
But just as he moved to leave your side, half asleep you caught his hand.
“Don’t go…” you murmured hazily, eyes still shut. 
And so, he didn’t.
Bucky simply reached for the tufted chair nearby and, as silently as he could, scooted it closer to the bed. 
Barely an hour passed before you woke. 
Before you even blinked open your eyes, your fingers began to slide down your body as the sinful dream you’d been blessed with still lingered in your foggy brain. 
Though when your eyes did flutter open and discovered the star of the dream sitting in a chair right next to you, your hand halted its voyage, and you sucked in a startled breath. 
“You okay?” he asked softly as you blinked a few times. 
“Uh,” the throbbing that still lingered from the dream probably wasn’t going to fade any faster with him sitting there with his unwavering stare, “yeah, I’m–, uhm…” you propped yourself up on your elbow before sitting up more, “I’m fine.” 
“Did you have a nightmare?”
“No, it wasn’t a–…” your sentence then crumbled as you sucked in a breath, “what are you doing watching me sleep?”
As you met his gaze, he then uttered, “you asked me to stay.”
Your eyes then widened, “I did?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh…” though you couldn’t recall, heat still began to bloom on your cheeks, “I’m sorry, I didn’t–”
“It's alright,” his shoulders offered a faint shrug. 
Averting your gaze, you noticed that you were still in your dress. You weren’t quite sure if it pleased you or not that Bucky didn’t try to strip it off you, though it was probably less the moral intentions and more the fantasy of him peeling it off of you that swayed you. 
“Were you just planning on sleeping in that chair all night?” you asked. 
“No,” he shook his head, “I wasn’t planning on sleeping at all.” 
A tinge of guilt stung in your chest, “I’m really sorry, I don’t know what I was thinking, I must have been asleep or something…” you then swung your legs over the side of the bed and got up. As your fingers raised up to pluck off your sparkling earrings, your feet began to carry you in the direction of your wardrobe. Dropping the jewellery off in a small porcelain bowl on the opposite bedside table, you then glanced back at your bodyguard and said, “you don’t have to stay any longer, you can go back to your room and get some sleep.” 
Offering you a nod, he then began to walk towards the door. 
Though, as you reached back to undo your dress, you abruptly uttered, “wait,” and he stopped before his steely fingers could enclose around the door handle. Turning to glance back at you, a bold request then hesitantly fell from your lips, “could you maybe help unzip me?”
He barely made a noise, simply hummed quietly in response before his slow stride carried him towards your frame as it twisted for your back to be turned to him.
When you felt his touch on the zipper, tugging it down ever so slowly, your breath came in ragged, and your eyes fluttered shut. You swore you felt his radiating heat seep into you as he exposed more of your goosebump-ridden spine. 
As the straps tumbled over your shoulders, your hands came up to your chest to hold it up even though you wished for nothing more than to let it drop before him.
And when the zipper finally reached its end, he lingered right behind you just long enough for you to catch the tether of it. Slowly, as if you were dealing with a skittish bird, you rotated around. You didn’t dare to look him in the eyes as you let yourself follow that magnetic pull you’d been trying to keep at bay. Your gaze flickered up to his lips as heated puffs of air seeped from your lungs and you slowly, hypnotically, inched closer. 
But then Bucky opened his mouth and said in a soft and quiet tone, “what are you doing?” making you halt, though not pull back. 
“Please don’t act like you don’t already know… I know you do…”
“You can’t,” he uttered, though didn’t move to walk away either as he captured your gaze, “we can’t, alright?”
“Why not?” you breathed, your eyes returning to his lips, “is it really that important for you to stay professional over everything else? Or is it that I’m just a job to you?” your heart felt as if it was gonna beat straight out of your chest, “you know I like you, I know you do. You notice everything, so of course you know. Am I right?”
A long exhale then flowed from his lungs before the faintest of nods tilted his head, “…yeah.”
“And I have eyes too, I’ve seen the way you look at me,” a shiver trickled down your spine, “so, are you really gonna just stand there and pretend you don’t feel something too? Just go back to your own room and continue to protect me like nothing’s going on?”
“Y/n, I can’t be with you,” he shook his head heavily, “you know I can’t.” 
Can’t or won’t?
Before you could even consider the possible consequences, a desperate request then fell from your lips, “well, what if I’m not asking you to be with me? What if it’s just for tonight? What if I’m only asking you to be with me for one night? Would you give me that?” you blinked up at him, scarcely breathing at all, “would you be mine just till the sun comes up?” 
As if your quiet whispers melted him completely, your bodyguard breathed, “…fuck…” and the next thing you knew, he’d grabbed your face and seized your lips. 
It was like something inside of him had snapped, something you had shattered, with the way that he kissed you as if he’d been drowning and your lips were oxygen. 
As you lost yourself in the sensation of his tongue dancing across your own, you let the red dress drop down your body, passed the sheer stockings that clung around your thighs, to the floor. Like fire, one of his hands disappeared from your cheek and ran down your frame, grazing over the black lingerie that was now exposed.  
Though heated and hungry at first, the kiss soon softened into lighter pecks. 
With his metal hand, he held your face close to his as he withdrew from the kiss, an action you weren’t quite ready for as you dreamily trailed after him a bit, longing for his lips. 
“Are you sure this is what you want?” his hot breath fanned across your features. 
“Yes,” you whispered swiftly. 
But as you dizzily blinked up at him, he simply hummed for you to elaborate, “hm?”
“Yes, I want you,” goosebumps tingled across your skin. 
“You want me to what?” his thumb swiped over your cheekbone. 
“I want you to–, to–…” you fumbled as you felt your desire drip and soak your panties, making them cling to your aching core. 
“To what, huh?” 
“To–… fuck me,” the embarrassingly desperate words tumbled out your mouth. 
“You want me to fuck you?” his unwavering stare briefly dropped to your parted lips.
“Yes,” the syllable rushed out of you. 
“Say it again,” he tilted his chin. 
“I want you to fuck me.”
“Louder,” his feet began to shift, causing yours to shuffle back as well. 
“I want you to fuck me.”
“One more time,” his hand had dropped down to your jaw and his fingers curled slightly to dent your soft cheeks. 
“I want you to fuck me, please!” 
With the hold he had on you, he swiftly dipped down and pressed his lips to yours once more. The world then fell out from under you as his grasp scooped down your frame and plucked you up.
Your arms tangled around his neck right before your back collided with the closet door and your lips tilted away from his as a short squeak slipped out. The distance however lent Bucky to let his kisses dance down the length of your neck and across your cleavage, so perfectly framed by the sheer fabric of your bra. 
Though the hickeys he began to plant across your skin made your eyes roll in your skull, your fingers still captured his tie and tugged him back up for your lips to crash against his. As you moved to push his blazer off, his sturdy grip on you shifted though still held you close as the jacket fell from his burly frame and your palms swiftly scooped over his broad shoulders and down his chest, now one layer closer to letting you actually get to feel the furnace roiling beneath.
Cupping his face close, whimpers seeped out of you and vibrated against his lips as his fingers dug into your ass and rubbed your barely covered cunt over the palpable tent in his pants, your want surely drenching through your thin underwear and marking him as well. 
You almost didn’t realise that Bucky had moved till he dropped you down on the bed. Taking a step back, his tongue briefly flicked across his breathless lips as his fingers lifted to tug his tie off. 
Staring directly into your soul, he uttered, “take your bra off,” as he tossed the tie to the floor and your fingers scrambled to fulfil his request. When you flung the lingerie to the ground, right next to his crumbled tie, the cool night air kissed your pebbly nipples and Bucky let out a murmured curse right before bending down to press his lips to yours. 
Balanced on your elbows, you parted your lips and let his tongue sweep across your own. His touch coasted down your frame, barely granting your tits any attention before his grasp hooked around your thighs and yanked you closer to the edge of the mattress. A surprised yelp escaped you at first at the sudden shift, but as the sting of saliva, that had lingered and connected you from your sloppy kiss, snapped back against your skin, the short cry morphed into a fizzy giggle. 
The light laugh however faded away when you watched him sink to his knees at the foot of the bed. Your legs curled up even further on either side of you, though you weren’t quite sure if that was you or him pushing them up and cracking you open that much more. You could feel his breath hit your pantie-clad core as his gaze fixated on the soaked spot right over your puff. 
When his palm slid up your inner thigh, he only had to reach out his thumb for the broad pad to ghost over your covered slit. His eyes swiftly flickered up to capture yours, checking your reaction as you began to squirm from his feathery light touch. 
Hooking his finger in the gusset, he pulled it to the side and a glossy string stretched out and clung to the fabric as he revealed your glistening pussy. 
A breathy moan billowed out of you as he began to touch you, rolling your little pearl beneath his touch. Finding your eyes once more, he held your gaze as he then leaned down to press a gentle kiss over your clit. 
“This okay?” his voice vibrated against your bundle of nerves, making you twitch. 
“Mhm,” you nodded foggily, “you can do anything you want.”
“Anything?” his lips twitched into a smirk as his fingers stretched from where they were clutching your panties to brush over your button.
“Yeah,” you breathed, “fucking anything.” 
Your mouth then hung agape at the sight of him dipping down to ruthlessly taste your desire. It didn’t take long before he lost himself in you so fiercely that he momentarily leaned back only to rip your underwear off. Both of his hands curved around your bottom, raking across your skin as he drew you even closer to his tongue and dragged it through your wet folds.
Bumping his nose against your clit, he let himself make out with your cunt a moment longer before planting a farewell peck over your pearl and pulling back. A dollop of spit dropped from his lips down onto your pussy. Catching the drop with his fingers before it slid away, he rubbed it into your own juices and made you that much more of a mess. 
“O-oh,” you moaned as he slowly slid a long finger into you after teasing your weepy entrance enough to make you shiver. 
“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he groaned at the soppy sounds his efforts conjured.
Craning down to kiss your clit sloppily, Bucky then slid his ring finger in beside the other, curving them gently as he reached even deeper. 
When he momentarily retracted his digits to land a small tap over your puffy petals, the smile that bloomed on your face only egged him on further. Plugging you back up, he then retracted and repeated the slap though with more ferocity. 
Your head began to lull a bit as he brought his vibranium digits down to roll your clit and his fingers began to fuck you harder, not faster, but with an intent that made your pussy sing for him. 
With your thighs trembling, they nearly slammed shut as you felt the end near, but your bodyguard only slid his strong metal forearm over your legs, hooking it right under both of your bent knees, to keep you spread nice and open for him. 
The veins on the back of his inked hand popped from how fiercely his fingers rocked within you. 
Stretching his thumb up to strum your clit, he tried to sneak a third finger inside of you as he felt your walls begin to flutter around him. 
“That’s it, I’ve got you,” as he always did in every manner, evidently. A smile curved at his lips as your eyes fluttered closed and a symphony of moans flowed out of you with every last tender stroke he offered you to carry you over the edge, “atta girl.”
Melted against the sheets, you caught your breath as he planted one last peck on your inner thigh before standing back up. 
Slowly, with his gaze ever glued on you, he unbuttoned his shirt, gradually revealing the silver shine of the dog tags that hung from his neck and the tattoos that sprawled across his skin. Going all the way up from the hand still shiny with your essence, the ink swirled up his right arm, across his pecs, down his back and even curved over to his left shoulder and intentionally tangled into the gnarly scares sprouting from the border of his prosthetic. 
When the button-up hit the floor, his fingers drifted down to unhurriedly remove his belt, pulling it out of the loops, he let it join the shirt before he undid his pants and let his cock spring free. 
“Jesus christ…” your jaw couldn’t help but drop to the floor as your eyes fluttered at the intimidating reveal. 
Noticing the anxiety that peeked through your lust-ridden expression, his low voice found your ears, “what? Did you change your mind?” 
“No, I just–…” you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his fat cock as it throbbed before you, “I got a bit nervous all of a sudden.” 
“No reason to be nervous, baby,” he breathed out a smile as his fist curled around his girth.  
“Oh really?” you nearly began to laugh. 
“You’ll be fine,” drool threatened to escape the corner of your lips as he slowly began to stroke himself, “trust me.” 
“Really? Because I’m not so sure I’ll be able to take that…” 
“You will,” he uttered calmly as he dipped down to give you a kiss, “don’t worry,” a hand slid into your hair as he cradled your face and ushered your gaze to find his, “you know I’d never hurt you, right?”
“Yeah.”
“So, you’ll be fine,” his thumb curved to sweep over your cheek a few times. 
“Yeah,” you gently nodded and repeated after him, “I’ll be fine.”
“That’s my girl,” he smiled. Kissing you once more, he then pressed a peck to your forehead before his grasp found your hips and he suddenly flipped you around, onto your stomach. 
Helping you up onto your hands and knees, a hazy smile stretched across your features as he bent down over you and pressed kisses all along your spine. Dragging his bulbous tip through your sopping folds, he then teased you for so long, never granting you any more than a dizzying nudge, that whines began to escape from you.
“P-please,” you heard yourself beg as your fingers bunched up the sheets. 
“What?” he continued to flick and tap your swollen clit with the head of his heavy cock.
“I–I want it–, plea–, please fuck me,” you blubbered desperately. 
“Oh, now you want it, huh?” you could hear the smirk that dominated his face, “suddenly not so nervous anymore about me stretching you out, are you?”
“Bucky, plea–, o-oh–,” you felt your limbs tremble beneath you as he slipped the very tip inside. 
His efforts were so slow at first, gradually giving you more of his length and just shallowly fucking you till you blossomed and opened up for him. 
Gradually, his thrusts began to ease from a mind-numbingly slow pace to something that truly scrambled your brain. You soon lost yourself completely to the molten sensation of his fat girth steadily splitting you open. 
Though when he finally bottomed out within you, a shrill gasp slipped out passed your lips and your frame shuttered beneath him. 
Drawing his hips back just enough for you to regain the ability to fill your lungs with oxygen once more, you heard him murmur in your ear, “what, is it too much dick for you?” retraining his thrusts slightly, he kept his tip from kissing your cervix, “that better or is it still too deep for you?” his hands dented your hips.
“N-no, no, it feels so good, it’s just–,” a whimper slipped out of you and broke up your slurring, “you’re so fucking big, I’ve never–,” you felt like you could feel him all the way up in your throat, “no one’s ever been that fucking deep before.”
One of his hands curved down to your clit at the exact same time as your own did. As they met, he let your own fingers swirl over your puffy pearl as his simply lingered, till he suddenly grasped your wrist and gently led it away from your pussy, further up to your lower stomach. 
“That deep?” he pressed down on your palm and let you discover the dull bulge that formed in your belly at every one of his dizzying thrusts, “has no one ever stuffed you that full before? Not even one of your pretty toys you play with so often?”
“Nuh-uh,” you panted as his warm contact dissipated from your spine and he straightened back up. 
A gravelly moan slipped out past Bucky’s lips as he glanced down to see how tightly your creamy pussy was gripping onto his cock. Your fingers returned to the sheets as his wide palm came down to slap your ass, your back arching at the impact and consequently angling his efforts so that the details of his dick brushed against your g-spot in the most heavenly way imaginable. 
He only buried himself inside of you a few more times, his heavy sack tapping against your buzzing clit at every electric buck, till your pussy gushed around his fat girth. 
“There you go,” he pulled out only to insistently flick your puffy pearl with his tip, “fucking hell,” he then plunged his cock all the way back in before dragging it back out, “keep going,” ushering more squirt to drizzle out. He kept up the overwhelming pattern till your pussy stopped gushing for him, till he’d pushed you through the overstimulation and your cunt slowly began to relax again for him. Eventually, when he steadily withdrew from you, he craned his neck to relish in the way your little hole had stretched out and accommodated so well for him, it even winking sinfully at him every time he pulled out, “good fucking girl,” he growled at the sight, “told you so, you’d do just fine,” your shaky frame jolted as he slapped your ass again, “look at you now fucking gaping for me, christ…”
With a ring of your cream staining the base of his cock, he let himself return to your warmth for longer than just a few seconds, fucking you with such ferocity that your pliant form, still molten and unsteady from your second orgasm, collapsed onto the mattress below. 
Though he successfully caught you before you could slip off his cock entirely, he still let you drop down on the bed, though softened the fall for you, before he followed suit. 
The weight of him on top of you felt so comforting and soothed on your tingly skin.
“You okay?” he kissed your cheek before spreading your stocking-clad legs with his own. 
“Hm,” you nodded foggily and felt yourself drool onto the sheets as he squished you further into the mattress.
Your shaky moans filled the bedroom as he slid back inside, “fuck, you feel so good…” sloppily nipping just below your ear before he picked up his pace. 
The chain that dangled from his neck felt cool on your skin and acted as a stark contrast to how hot his body felt pressed against your back. 
“You think you can be a good girl and cum for me again?” he groaned into your ear as his efforts echoed sloppily, “let me feel that pretty pussy squeeze around me one last time?”
“I-I don’t know,” you trembled beneath him, every one of his deep thrusts making you jolt and gasp for air as he was practically splitting you in half. 
“You don’t know?” he sweetly whispered in your ear as he curled his arms under you. One hand slid under your tit and caught your pebbly nipple in a rude pinch while the other soared down to your sore and swollen clit, “can you try for me? Try and cum again,” your eyes had fallen completely shut, so your whole reality had just become Bucky’s reassuring weight, his tantalising efforts, and his sinful whispers that seeped directly into your soul, “try and squirt for me one last time, sweetheart.” 
And so, you did. It didn’t even take that long before you tumbled over one last time and your pussy creamed for him, drenching the already damp sheets beneath you, as he swiftly came as well, throbbing deep within your clenching cunt and filling your little hole up to the brim till it tried to leak and escape around his girth.
His heavy pants faded from your ear as he slowly crawled off of you, cascading a tender trail of kisses all the way down your body till he gently retraced his track of pecks and settled down next to you. Fluttering your eyes open as his palm slid up to your heated cheek, he gazed into your hazy eyes for a moment before leaning in to softly press his lips to your own. 
You wanted to curl in closer to his frame, but your body was so exhausted that you could barely raise your pinkie finger. Fortunately though, as you layed there in wordless wonder, Bucky’s arms draped around you as he scooted in close, hugging you to him and gently caressing your skin as you continued to blink back into his ocean eyes, not uttering a word out of fear that you’d ruin the blissful moment.
After perhaps a small eternity had passed, he briefly raised his head up slightly to catch sight of the small clock on your bedside table. 
“There’s still a few more hours left before the sunrise…” he settled back down beside you.
“Oh, yeah?” a soft smile tilted up your lips as his touch began to travel south. 
“Yeah,” his lips gently parted in a silent moan as his fingers slid through your sore folds. His stare was transfixed on how your brows knitted together and a quiet hiss slipped out of you as he swirled over your sensitivity, playing with the hot load he’d pumped into you as it slowly leaked out, one of his digits too brash not to try and stuff it back inside, “what do you think?” sharing your breath, he inched in and let his nose nuzzle against your own, “do you want me to be yours just a little bit longer or would you rather I’d return to my own bed?” 
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© 2024 thyme-in-a-bubble 
697 notes · View notes
vivwritesfics · 3 days
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hi 🥹🥹 idk if this is okay but can i request a os ( or a series if you think it’s worthy, you decide ! ) where lando and yn are exes and they meet during a party after soooo many years and they are still super angry at each other (no cheating because i read your rules but idk, maybe they broke up because of distance?? or lando wanted to focus on his career ??). Despite that, tension builds up and they end up having sex all night and then they confess they never forget each other and idk a lil happy ending?
a right person wrong time ex lovers to enemies to lovers again sort of idk ahahahahahah
love youuuuuu
I've been pretty away from things for the last two days and I'm sorry, but hoping to get back on track real soon
Verstappen reader
Warnings: light smut, fingering
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When you break up with someone you're still in love with, it sucks. It really fucking sucks. So much that it's easier to let yourself hate them than miss them.
It was years ago, but she still hated him. And seeing him on her television so often made her hate him more. It would have been easier if he hated her too, but he didn't. Her brother made sure she was aware of it.
She'd managed to avoid races, has done for years at this point. But Max was about to win his third championship, and he wanted her there for it.
So, he flew her out to Qatar.
For the entire race weekend, she ignored him. She ignored him with everything she had. Hiding out in the Red Bull garage, walking the other way whenever anybody dressed in orange came towards her.
But then Max won the goddamn championship. That wasn't what she was mad about. She was so fucking happy that her big brother had won the championship. She couldn't say no to going out partying with him.
Neither could Lando, either.
He didn't know she was going to be there, didn't know that she was even in the country. But, the moment his eyes met hers, fuck. He couldn't stop himself from striding over to her, drink in hand.
"Hey," he said, a little breathlessly. Well, she she looked incredibly fucking good.
Her hand reached out and struck his face. Lando held his cheek as he looked down at her. "What was that for?" He asked, but he knew. He knew how he had fucked up and he regretted it so much.
""Fuck you," she spat, stepping closer. But then she backed off to find her brother.
The night kept going on like this. They kept running into each other, dancing together for just a few minutes before she remembered who she was with and backed off.
Lando hadn't kissed her at the end of the night. He hadn't climbed into her lap as she sat in a booth (something she did to her). With her situated in his lap, hands on the back of his neck, she pressed her lips to his own.
"Fuck," he grunted against her lips as he grabbed her waist.
She whimpered and began trailing kisses down his neck. "Take me to your room, Lan," she whispered.
Her voice was so soft, how could he ever say no?
That was how she ended up in his hotel. Lando laid her on his bed, his hands touching her like he hadn't forgotten how. She moaned as he pulled down her underwear, his hands touching her thighs. Even this was better than anything she'd had in the years since they broke up.
"I've missed this," he whispered as his finger ran through her folds. She tossed her head back as he felt just how wet she was.
Fuck, he needed her now.
Lando dropped his trousers. He slowly and gently thrust his fingers into her, opening her up before he entered her.
It was like he was made to fill her. And he did, over and over again, until the sun shone through the window and light filled the room.
The new day came a new sense of clarity. She'd fucked her ex. Who the hell made the mistake of sleeping with their ex? She couldn't help but feel stupid as she looked at him, sleeping in the bed beside her. She'd missed him, so damn much.
But he was the one who didn't want her.
As she slipped out of the bed, a hand reached for her. "Don't go," he said. "Stay with me, please."
She couldn't stop herself from letting a sigh loose from her lips. "Why should I, Lan?" She couldn't stop the nickname from slipping out. "You don't want me, so why should I?"
He couldn't help but groan. "I do want you," he said.
She pulled away from him and gathered her clothes up from the floor. "Then start acting like it."
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em-prentiss · 3 days
Text
Ice cold
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In which you have freezing hands, and Aaron warms them up for you.
Cw: fem!bau!reader—I think it could also be read as gn reader, getting together, fluff, first kiss, no use of yn
Word count: 1.7k
This is my first time writing a reader insert, so please be gentle with me lol. I’ve been wanting to write an Aaron x reader for ages and this idea finally came to me last night. Idk if I’ll continue writing these, but if you have any prompts let me know! It took me ridiculously long to come up with this one haha <3
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The cold bites at your exposed hands and you shiver, dropping your pen and notepad into your coat pockets because they’re all but useless now, your fingers close to snapping in half. You leave Aaron to jot down notes of the crime scene you’re in, keeping your hands in your equally freezing pockets in a poor attempt at keeping them warm.
Who has the energy to dump and mutilate a body in the woods in the middle of January, anyway?
“Isolated and hard to find, safe to say he’s a local.” You murmur, tucking your chin into the collar of your coat. You curl your numb fingers into your palm, cursing quietly at the stiffness in them.
“Yeah,” Aaron agrees. “One with experience, too. No blood spatter, no drag marks. He could’ve wrapped them in tarps.” He clicks his pen closed and slides it into his pocket along with his notepad, making you sigh in relief at the thought of leaving soon. “We’ll know more once Morgan and Rossi come back from the ME.”
You nod silently, clenching your fingers around the cold fibers of your coat pocket as you shiver again. Aaron’s gaze slides to you. 
“You okay?” He asks.
“It’s fucking freezing,” you grumble, hunching your shoulders and trying to wrap your coat tighter around your body. Your hands have gone fully numb now, clenched into icy fists inside your pockets. “My hands froze over. They’re like ice blocks.” You frown, your jutted bottom lip scratching against the wool of your coat.
Aaron smiles amusedly, his heart warming at the sight of your furrowed brows, your chin tucked into your coat for warmth. You shift slightly from foot to foot, subconsciously huddling closer to him and his endless, blazing warmth. 
He turns his back on the deserted crime scene and focuses instead on you, his eyes lingering on the flush on your cheeks, your skin bitten from the cold. He looks perfectly warm, you think grouchily, in his stupid large coat and his stupid neatly wrapped scarf.
“And yet when we went to literal Alaska you didn’t have any complaints,” he says. 
You huff indignantly, “Excuse you, at least in Alaska I knew it was going to be—” You cut off as his fingers wrap around your wrists and gently pull your hands from your pockets.
Immediately the cold bites at them again, but that’s not what makes you falter. “What are you doing?” You ask as he cups both of your hands between his. Distantly, you think it’s a stupid question. But his hands are so warm, large and completely engulfing yours, making you feel like you just stuck them in an oven. You let out an involuntary sigh, your brain going blank at the sudden heat from his hands.
Aaron ignores your question. “You weren’t lying,” he says mildly, bending his head to look at the way your nails were turning blue. He brings your hands up to his face and blows warm air on the blue tips of your fingers, massaging them with circular motions to force the cold out of them. Your heart picks up at the way your hands disappear beneath his, what’s visible of them looking small in his gentle grip.
Your skin is icy beneath his own. “Jeez, are you anemic or something?” He looks up at you and his lips tilt upward at the flush on your cheeks, deeper now than it was before, and you both know it’s not from the cold.
“No,” you squeak, the excessive heat of his hands rendering you incoherent. His thumbs rub gentle circles onto your palms, slowly forcing the warmth back into them. “Just terrible circulation.”
Aaron hums and looks back down at your hands, massaging them thoroughly until you start to regain the feeling in your fingers. You waggle them experimentally and he smiles a little, moving his thumbs up to your knuckles and rubbing them slowly.
You can feel your blush deepen as you look at him. His gaze is fixed on your hands, utterly focused on his task as if it were the single most important thing on his mind today, as if you didn’t have any pressing concerns like a team waiting for your feedback or a serial killer needing to be caught.
By the time he’s moved to your wrists your whole body is warm, your blood buzzing under your skin. He’s involuntarily shifted closer to you, your hands held so close to his chest your fingertips ghost against his shirt. 
His warm fingers brush over your wrist, catching your fluttering pulse, and your breath is trapped in your throat. Aaron presses your palms together and secures his hands over yours, finally done with his task. The warmth of your joint hands travels to your cheeks, the way his thumbs absently skate over the heel of your hands making your whole body flush. “Warm enough now?” He murmurs.
Just about to catch fire, actually. But you nod. “You’re a useful partner in conditions like these, Agent Hotchner. What with your furnace-like hands.” You try to joke through your racing heartbeat.
He chuckles lightly, his dimples digging into his cheeks. His hands are still holding on to yours. You’re glad for that, because otherwise you’re sure you would’ve risen on your tiptoes and pressed a thumb to each dimple, watching the way your fingers dip into the crevice. 
“Happy to be of service. Anything else I can warm up for you?” His eyes are like sun warmed honey, gazing into yours, and the words leave your mouth before you can think about them.
“My lips are cold too.”
Oh god.
You drop your gaze as your cheeks start to flame, a jittery nervousness suddenly making your stomach hurt. You try to tug your hands out of his grip but Aaron holds on tighter, his fingers wrapping around your wrists and holding you in place. 
You’re still looking down at your joint hands when he clears his throat. “I can help with that,” he says evenly, as if his own heart isn’t racing abnormally fast.
Your head snaps up. “What?” You breathe, frozen in place as he lets go of your hands. You don’t even register the sudden cold, your whole focus on the way he takes your face into his palms, his warm fingers pressing against your cold cheeks.
“Do you want me to kiss you?” Aaron asks. His face is serious, all hints of his previously playful smile gone. Briefly you start to wonder if this is one of your many dreams about him, but his hands sear your skin, the icy air burns your lungs as you raggedly breathe in and out. 
You swallow, your throat unbearably dry, and nod. “Yes.” You grip the lapels of his coat, feeling the soft fibers between your fingers.
His face transforms. The hard lines soften, his seriousness melting away as he smiles again. The breath returns to your lungs. “Thank god,” he says bluntly, and you laugh, butterflies in your stomach, in your veins. You grin at him as his thumbs stroke your jaw, his fingertips sliding into your hair as he tilts your face up to his.  
“Your efforts at flirting are tragic, by the way,” he murmurs, just before he presses his lips to yours and steals your indignant reply. Immediately you melt into his arms, one hand slipping into his coat and the other resting on the hard line of his jaw. You always wanted to touch it, and as your fingers skate over it, wander over the skin that meets his neck, you feel his erratic pulse beating.
It’s good to know you’re not the only one ridiculously affected.
Aaron reluctantly pulls away when you both are breathless, his lips turning up into a grin at the sight of your dazed eyes. He leans in close and presses soft, gentle kisses on your lips—just to make sure they’re properly warmed up. 
You slip your hand into his hair and sigh—the cold has nothing on you now—just about to kiss him properly when his phone rings.
Aaron steps back and the biting cold replaces his warmth. You shiver as he digs his hand into his pocket and takes out his phone, your lips abnormally warm and your hands slowly returning to their once freezing state. 
“Yeah Dave,” he answers, his eyes still on you. You jut your bottom lip and he grins, his hand reaching for yours. He links your fingers together and softly runs his thumb over yours, making your cheeks flush again. “Sorry, we ran into traffic on the way. We’ll be there in an hour or so.”
Aaron ends the call and you laugh as he tugs you to the car, your fingers still linked. “What?” He smiles and you beam back.
“Traffic?” You raise your brows. 
He rolls his eyes. “What did you want me to say? ‘Sorry I got carried away kissing my beautiful subordinate’?” You reach the car and he opens the door for you, but you don’t get in. 
Your heart skips at his words. He smiles and you finally reach up and place your thumb into his dimple, your own smile spreading. “Yes,” you say simply, unable to believe you can finally do this. “You know they have a running bet on us.” You murmur, leaning forward to kiss the divot in his cheek.
Aaron’s skin warms beneath your lips. His hand falls to the curve of your waist and he squeezes lightly. “I know,” his voice comes out a little tight and you smile. He clears his throat and gently pushes you into the car. “The faster you get in, the faster we can collect. And we’ll use that money for our date, yeah?” 
“Deal.” You grin and get into the car, Aaron’s gentle hand guiding you into the seat. He can’t help but give you another kiss before he closes the door, your lips sweet and soft between his own.
You sigh as he climbs into the driver’s seat, your cheeks delightfully warm and your hands only slightly chilly. Aaron pulls out onto the road and his hand finds yours again. 
You thread your fingers between his and look out the window, feeling absurdly grateful for the cold woods you were in.
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luveline · 2 days
Note
grumpy hotch x pregnant reader where he is just having an off day and the team calls reader in to deal with him and as soon she arrives in his office he just holds her and her belly as she scratches his scalp omg 🥹😭🫶🏻
You’re lounging in your husband's favourite chair with a book and an ice cold soda in your hand when your phone rings. You almost knock your tooth out pulling it up to your face without looking, wanting it to be Aaron, knowing it probably won’t be. Maternity leave can be excruciatingly boring. 
“Hello?” you ask. Your book slides down your bump. You pull it back up. 
“Hi, mom.”  
You grin to yourself. “Hi, Emily. Please tell me you’re calling because you miss me and you know I have cabin fever.” 
“I’m calling because someone misses you.” Her ire tone is unmissable and ever endearing. “I do miss you, I can’t wait for you to have your stinking baby and come back to work.” 
“That would be fun, right? We’ll get Hotch on paternity leave.” 
“It’s him I’m calling about.” 
“Is he okay?” you ask. You know if he were injured she would’ve mentioned that first. You’re not so scared of his being grumpy. 
“Moody as ever. I can’t believe I’m asking you to, but would you consider coming in for lunch? I’ll send a car, no walking, but he could really use it. He’s been biting off heads all morning.” Emily laughs down the line. “You’re the only one who can cheer him up.” 
It’s not true, but you are usually the quickest. You bid Emily goodbye with a promise to be there soon and get dressed, with no choice but to wear some maternity pants and a peplum blouse. Any excuse to see your haggard husband is one you’ll take. 
You look at your bump and you love the baby in there, but it feels weird sometimes to see yourself differently. If Aaron weren’t as nice about it as he is, you would’ve broken down by now; he’s sussed many breakdowns before they could begin, kissed fingertips and collars promising you’re just as pretty as always. And it’s reassuring, but it isn’t pretty that worries you. You’re a genuine walking beach ball right now. 
The car Emily promises is none other than Anderson himself. “He’s bullying you?” you ask him. 
He doesn’t say yes or no, but his smile is enough of a clue. You can’t get to the BAU quick enough (though you’re slower these days), pushing open the glass door with a tired sign. 
Spencer comes across you first by coincidence. “Hey!” he says, ushering you in for a hug, his cup of coffee hot behind your shoulder. “What are you doing here? You’re supposed to be resting.” 
“He’s in a mood,” you say. Not without fondness. 
Spencer grimaces. “Sort of.” 
Emily attacks you from the side. “Thank god you’re here! I think he just told Morgan to go fuck himself,” she says under her breath. 
She’s just saying it to make you laugh, and it works. It’s vaguely out of character, but if you know Emily, you know she has a crass, often dirty-minded side, and it’s been a while since you’ve heard her swear. You’re still giggling when the door you’d been making your way to opens. 
Aaron emerges with an expression half bemusement and half confusion. “Honey?” 
“My love,” you say, too quiet for him to properly hear, but he can read lips just fine. 
He rushes in a very gentlemanly display down the steps to help you up them, but you’d only been going up them to see him, and you stop at the foot of them with your hand raised to his elbow. “Hey, handsome.” 
“What’s wrong?” he asks. 
“Nothing. Just missed you, wanted to have dinner, and I figured you couldn’t say no. You know.” You touch your tummy. “Considering.” 
He peers suspiciously past your head. “Yeah?” 
You look where he’s looking, find Emily and Spencer not so subtly turned away. You laugh again, pleased when the sound makes him smile. “Come on. Take me to your office.” 
He puts a hand behind your shoulders and leads you upstairs to his office. There are papers strewn haphazard across the front of the desk, his briefcase open and muddled, his pen lost within the mess. You’re smug knowing he’d been knee deep in paperwork but abandoned it all when he heard you laughing, like he just couldn’t miss it. 
“Let me sit you down,” he says. 
“Woah, slow your roll. Why are you stressed?” 
He blinks at you. “There’s a lot to do?” 
“Sure, but why are you stressed about me? I can sit down by myself.” 
He must look at you for five whole seconds without saying a word, and the door’s not closed, there’s no answer to your question, and then he takes you into his arms for a hug. “I know you can,” he says. 
It’s admittedly hard to hug him with the bump between you. You worry you’re hurting him as your cheeks press together, crushing his shoulders under your hands. 
He usually asks first, but he knows by now that you’re two halves of the same heart, two sides of the same coin, his hand slipping between you both to nudge aside your shirt and feel your stomach. 
You close your eyes. 
“Rough day?” you ask. 
“A lot to do…” His face moves down into your neck. 
You know what he wants, moving your hand to the back of his head to thread your fingers into his hair. “I can fix it,” you say sympathetically, beginning a gentle scratch of your nails against his scalp. 
“How’s that?” 
“If I go into labour right now, you get a reprieve.” 
“Honey, in the most loving sense possible, you going into labour now would not be ideal.” 
“It’s gonna happen one day, babe. And you’re gonna be just as busy then. You need to take less on or–”
“No, I know.” 
His hand slides still under your shirt to your hip, encouraging you away from him, his eyes flitting up and down your figure, checking you over. You let your hand fall to his shoulder, fingertips interested in the starchy fabric of a new suit. 
“Thank you,” he says quietly, dipping down to give you a kiss. His eyes are dark, so close. “That helped. What can I get you for dinner?” 
You give a fond, pitying smile. You’re not gonna get him out of this office today, that’s for sure. “Half your sandwich, probably.” 
He kisses you again. You take it for a thank you. 
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ozzgin · 3 days
Note
Hi!! Your writing it truly lovely 😭<33 If i could request anything with Zzy? Thank youuu
Yandere! Demon x Gloomy! Reader (II)
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Featuring the goat-legged boy Zzy and a gloomy, newly employed detective Reader! By the way, his name is a little tribute to a series I like. Can you guess who inspired it? Hint: it's Jhonen Vasquez's first comic :D
Content: female reader, perverted goat demon yandere, dark/crass humor!, monster romance, mildly NSFW
[Part 1] [Monster masterlist]
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The detective man, at the very least, kept his word. The pay is good, and you barely have any work to do. The jobs themselves are similarly not too challenging: so far you haven’t had to deal with any murder mystery out of an Agatha Christie novel. Rather, most of the time, it’s someone asking you to investigate their cheating partner, or sending you to do a background check for an employee. Every now and then you’ll get the odd client, but that’s something for another day.
Your boss isn’t all that bad either. You were initially quite hesitant to be alone in the room with him. He always seems to be surrounded by an eerie, dark aura, and you’ve only seen him smile in a menacing, villainous way. Now you’ve gotten used to his strangeness. In fact, it’s almost comforting. There’s something refreshing about another human being honest about their misery. He seems to be just as uninterested in this job as you are, spending most of his time reading at his desk. Despite his unkempt, scary appearance, he's pleasant enough and looks after you. Which, now that you think about it, is a little suspicious. You've seen him act around other people: curt and to the point, disinterested, even potentially rude. With demons, he's ruthless.
"Have you had lunch yet?" the man asks, standing up and dusting his knees. "I can get us something."
You nod and flash him a flaccid smile, although you can't help but ask:
"Listen, aren't you being a little too nice? I mean, I'm not complaining...but I've seen how you behave in general, and I have a hard time coming up with a reason for my special treatment."
He ponders your question for a moment, before his sunken eyes look ahead, somewhere behind you.
"Well…If I’m being honest, you’re kind of pathetic, aren't you? I’m just a little worried that if I’m too harsh, I’ll find out you hanged yourself in your apartment or something. Not that I’d care, but if you’re gone, I’m the one stuck with…that thing.”
Ah. That’s what it was. Almost immediately, a shiver runs across your spine.
“(Y/N)! Are you done yet? I’m booooooored”, a prolonged whine erupts from the neighboring chamber.
“I’m about to have lunch, actually. Do you want any-”
“You know I do! Spread those legs and I can start”, the goat demon declares with a grin, clacking his hooves in your direction.
You sigh.
Of course. Months ago, you were tricked into signing a lifelong contract with Zzy. It was the detective’s way of washing his hands off the matter and warmly welcoming you into the agency. It makes sense that he'd treat you with utmost care, otherwise he'd have to deal with this pest from Hell once again.
How's your life with Zzy going?
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You've since found a way to seal your bedroom, in order to avoid waking up with his groping hands under your sheets. Sadly, the stubborn creature keeps finding ways to bypass your safety measurements. Who would’ve thought that lust is such a powerful driving force?
On top of the nightly shenanigans, you obviously have to deal with him during the day, at the agency. “Listen, it’s like…one of those fidget toys. It helps with stress”, he explains fervently while pointing at your chest. “You want me to do my work properly, don’t you?” He concludes theatrically. “You’re not holding my boobs. This is the end of the conversation.”
If you’re having a bad day, it won’t go unnoticed. “Boy, what a smell, what a delicacy. You’re even more miserable than usual”, Zzy will exclaim, throwing his hands together in a graceful prayer. “You know what the best medicine is? A quick fuck. Let me pound that sadness out of you, eh?”
Despite his constant clowning, the demon does have moments of clarity. He becomes particularly serious when jealous. “What have you done?” You shout in despair, gawking at the client - now morphed into a pig - foaming at the mouth and running around the room. “He was staring at your ass. Only I can do that.” The horned man stands proud, arms crossed, nodding at his own courageous act. His most treasured belonging has been defended once more.
As expected, the jealous curse has gotten both of you into time-out. Zzy because he cursed the client in the first place, and you - despite your protests - because you didn't stop him in time. "Can't you wear something easier to take off? It takes two business days to unbutton this crap", the demon complains as he fiddles with your shirt. You're laying on the sofa, hands behind your head, gazing at the clock on the wall and counting the minutes passing. Unbothered, compliant. The peacefulness of someone who's given up. "Zipper is to the left", you add, aiding the process.
Another irritating detail is that the damned beast can detect the slightest arousal coming from you, and will make sure to announce it loudly, regardless of who is around. "Someone's horny! Whew, getting me all worked up, too." You slap a hand over his mouth, a deep red blush rapidly spreading across your cheeks. You turn to the detective and apologize profusely, but he remains unconcerned, flipping another page. "Let me take care of her first, Mr. Detective", Zzy manages to mumble through your pressed fingers. "As long as you get the task done", your boss responds plainly, never bothering to look up from his book.
"You should visit me down there sometimes", the horned creature suddenly mentions, his head resting in your lap as you idly browse your phone. You stop to glance down at him. "In Hell, you mean?" He snickers at the thought. "No one believes me when I tell them I have a human girlfriend. I need concrete proof, ya feel me?" You raise an eyebrow. "Girlfriend?" He disregards your inquiry and continues: "At least give me a pair of your panties to take back home." Absolutely not.
"Were you this much of a menace before I showed up?"
"What's that supposed to mean?! You can't blame a demon for being in love."
You sigh once more and roll over.
"Does that mean we can go for round two~?" Zzy is grinning at his own suggestion.
"Just go to sleep. Or something."
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norrisleclercf1 · 2 days
Text
He's Not Yours
Pairing: Mafia!Jenson x Assistant!Reader
Rating: PG-17
Words: 3.2K
Warnings: Pregnancy, lying, angst, fluff, it's really just, yeah
Synopsis: One night changes your life, but one lie completely destroys it
Mafia Jenson: pt.1 Unattainable / pt.2 Slipping Through My Fingers
A/N: This was an idea @percervall and I talked about a long time ago and I’m finally writing it and yes this is part of the main story
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With shaking hands, you try to read the test before you; you are unwilling to believe what the test says. The two little lines mock you, making you sick. Taking another deep breath, you grab your phone and dial the first person you can think of. 
"I need you," 
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Lewis holds it as you sit on the couch, sobbing, trying to get control. You craved control, but instead, you've thrown your world into such uncontrollable chaos that your chest has tightened. Lewis takes an intense breath, blows out, puts the test down on the coffee table, and slowly bends to your height. 
"Jenson?" He asks the question slowly like he knew asking you would set off a whole wave of tears. You flinch at his name, the flashes of drinks, laughter, his hands on your body, pulling delicious toe-curling orgasms out of you. And the way he felt inside you. Shaking your head, you nod it slowly, and Lewis groans. He wants to yell at you for finally getting with Jenson and being so reckless. 
"Well, I know this isn't how you wanted to get with him, but Y/n." "He can never know," Lewis snaps his mouth shut, his eyes narrowing but softening when you look up at him. "Lewis, he can never know. Lewis, promise me, promise me you won't tell him." Lewis groans and hangs his head. Sighing, he pulls you into his arms as you cry into his chest. "I won't, I won't tell him." 
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You finally calmed down enough to talk with Lewis about being pregnant. Pregnant, you couldn't believe it. Pregnant with Jenson's baby, it made a smile tug at your lips, but you had to shake your head as it would be extremely dangerous having his child. You loved Jenson, and he loved you, yet you two kept up this game of not being together. Jenson was the head of a Mafia group, and if his enemies learned he had a child, he'd have a weakness, a weakness that would end with either the child's death or his, and you knew you wouldn't survive either. 
"I know you don't want to tell him, but you can't hide it," Lewis whispers, pouring you some juice, even though you'd really wish it was alcohol. "I'm not going to hide it, Lewis. Just tell him it's someone else's, baby," Lewis makes a disgruntled noise and sits down, shaking his head. "Y/n, I love you, but that would crush him. He loves you, and you two finally sleep together, and he has been chewing Fernando and I's ear off about how you two are finally coming together." The knife in your heart stabs deeper, tearing into the muscle with such force you choke on air. 
"If people find out that this is his child, they'll target the child, and Jenson would," You take a deep breath as the tears gather in your eyes. "Jenson would rather die than let his child be harmed. I can't lose them both," You whimper, hanging your head in shame. "You're going to lose him if you tell him that you're carrying another man's baby." Lewis loves you, he'd kill for you, has killed for you, he'd die for you, but he wouldn't support you in this. Jenson has been his friend for years, and this would crush his dearest friend. 
"You think I don't know that!" Your voice raises at the end, and you swallow back the bile burning your throat. "Lewis, just trust that I'm doing the right thing," Lewis has never seen you so broken. You were always this badass, tough woman who could cut a man down with one look. Hell, you've got Jenson Button down on his knees for you. "I don't think you're doing the right thing, but I'll be here for you, no matter what." Lewis moves, sitting down next to you and kissing your head. 
"We have the gala tonight," you whisper, and Lewis groans, knowing Jenson will be all over you. You know, last gala, I snuck off with Sebastian, and we were gone for a while," you whisper, and Lewis goes tense next to you. "Don't, Jenson and Sebastian are close," You chuckle, sipping at the sweet drink in your hand. "Sebastian and I were engaged once." His jaw drops as you nod, having never revealed that fact. "I'm sorry, what? You were once engaged to Michael Schumacher's right-hand man, now the German Mafia's leader?" Lewis pulls back, and a wet chuckle gets past your lips. 
"We were children, young, we met at university, and well, it was a whirlwind romance. We got so close to being married, but we both realized we didn't want this, so we stopped. Stayed good friends too," Lewis thinks over every interaction you've had with them, and you giggle, seeing the lightbulb go off. "Oh my god, that's how you got us to meet with them," you nod and start to laugh, feeling slightly lighter. 
"Jesus," Lewis sinks into the couch as you nod. Where did you...could it be?" You stop him and shake your head no. "No, Sebastian... no, we didn't sleep together," you admit, and Lewis nods his head, not wanting to doubt you, but right now, he needs a little doubt. "Would Sebastian even agree to this?" Sipping on the juice is the only thing that does not make you nauseous. "Yes, he owes me." Lewis raises an eyebrow, and you lean back into his arms, his fingers digging into your neck muscles. 
"Why does he owe you?" Lewis stops and shakes his head fast. "Actually, don't tell me, knowing you, it's probably something horrible." Your lip quirks up as you sigh and look at Lewis. "He's in love with Mark," "Oh yeah, he's in love with Mark," Lewis repeats, his eyes slowly growing wide as he lets the words sink in. "What, but Mark is," "Yep," You whisper sadly, remembering the night Sebastian sobbed in your arms about Mark and how he would never love him. 
"Does Mark," "He suspects something, but that's why tonight I'll be stuck by his side. He'll get drunk and do something reckless," You whisper, Lewis nods and looks at the time. "We should get going," You nod, standing as you look down at the pregnancy test. "Oh god, I'm pregnant." Lewis laughs and pulls you into his chest, rubbing your arm, "Yeah, yeah, you are," 
----------------------
"Something is off," Lewis tenses next to Jenson as he stares at you and Sebastian. Lewis tries hard not to make eye contact, worried he'll spill everything to Jenson. "What, no, nothing is off," Lewis answers far too fast, but Jenson doesn't clock it, staring a hole into your head. "How do Sebastian and Y/n know each other?" Lewis swears his muscles will rip from how tight they are, and Mark questions the closeness between you and Sebastian. 
Lewis wishes you could hear his thoughts as Sebastian puts an arm around your waist, and you lean into him. Lewis closes his eyes and sees Sebastian moving his hand lower and you inching closer. "Okay, I'm going to rip his hand off," Jenson slams his whiskey down, but Mark steps in. "Touch him, and I'll rip you apart." Jenson and Mark have a stare-down, Lewis panicking. "Stop it. They used to be engaged, so I'm sure there are still feelings there," Lewis blurts out, and he groans, knowing he just fucked up. 
"What?" Jenson's sound makes Lewis's blood run cold as Fernando walks up and giggles. "Eh, love birds are leaving," Lewis wishes Fernando could read a room. Actually, he could. He was just feeding into it." Jenson's eyes turn pitch black as Sebastian grins and leads you out of the gala. 
-------------------
"Congratulations," Sebastian whispers, and you smile, lying your head on his shoulder. "If anyone asks, can," "Of course, but you know I won't be in the baby's life; I'm going to be the cool uncle." You giggle, and he sighs, pulling you closer. "So, Jenson, you are having a baby." "No," Your voice is cold as you touch your stomach. "I'm having a baby, not Jenson. He was just a...a sperm donor." You spit and sigh as Sebastian stares at you with wide eyes. "Woah, alright, never mind. Noted, don't talk about Jenson." Sebastian whispers, and you groan, burying your face in your hands. 
"Sorry, it's the fucking hormones, if the time is right, I'm 3 months pregnant." Sebastian hums and takes off his jacket, placing it on your shoulders. "It's okay, but I'm serious; you can say I'm the father, but I can't be involved; he's around too much." You understood why Sebastian stayed away. It was too painful for him to constantly see Mark and not be with him. "I understand." And you did. It was unbearable for you to be around Jenson, even more so now that you are pregnant. 
"I could always move to Germany," You offer, and Sebastian chuckles and shakes his head no. "He'd follow you, and then rip me to shreds, and then just drag you back here." You nod your head, knowing that was all very true. "I'm glad I can call you my friend," Sebastian smirks and waves a hand over him. "Well, duh, I'm the better blonde." Giggling, you two stand up and walk back to the party; you shiver, feeling someone watching you. 
Turning, you see a distraught Lewis, a confused Mark, a smug Fernando, and a furious Jenson. Sebastian notices and moves, placing a delicate kiss on your lips and shocking you. You can see Fernando and Lewis holding Jenson back. "I hope you're making the right decision." You smile, and Sebastian gives you one last kiss, leaving you in the shadows. 
Walking over, you grab a drink, but Lewis quickly swaps them, and you nod. "What the fuck was that about?" Jenson growls, Mark even looking pissed, which has you thinking things over. "I was telling him some news," "Which is what? What could possibly have been your ex-fiance kissing you?" You whip your head to Lewis, who quickly looks away and whistles. "Nothing," Jenson tightens his hold on his glass and waves over the bartender. "Get her a real drink, please," "No, thank you," The guys stare at you, shocked; you always drink with them. "I can't drink," You whisper, unable to look them in the eyes. 
The bartender's eyes sweep over you and smile. "Congrats." He walks off. Jenson stares, but then a smile starts to grow. "Are you?" "Yes! And it's Sebastian's okay, but he wants... just leave it alone." You whisper. A pen could drop with how silent it was around you. Lewis, I want to go home now," Lewis nods and gathers you in his arms, noticing how you are still wearing Sebastian's jacket. 
---------------------
2 months later, 5 months pregnant
You stopped wearing your heels, and you hated it. Mark and Jenson kept towering over you, and you were annoyed with it. Since that night at the gala, Jenson hasn't said much to you, just small words here and there, but today, he asked you to come into the office early, so here you are, trying to figure out what he would want to say to you. 
Knocking on the office door, you push it open and see Jenson sitting in the same position you left him last night. "Did you stay the night?" You ask, shocked at his disheveled state. "Are you pregnant with my baby?" The question throws you off, shock flashing through your features, but you quickly school your emotions and take a deep breath. "No, Jenson, it's not your baby." His face, once stoic, breaks as he takes a deep breath and looks away. 
"There's...not even a chance?" He whispers, and you hate being pregnant at this moment because he's got your throat tightening without even touching you, eyes burning like fire has been thrown in them. "No," You choke on the word; clearing your throat, you roll your shoulders back and speak up. "No, there's not a chance." You repeat, and Jenson leans back, rubs his face, and nods. "Sebastian, he....he's going to be there for you, yes?" It wasn't really a question; it was more of a demand. "No, he wants nothing to do with the bug, baby." Jenson's face is cold, but then he cracks a smile. 
"Bug?" You sigh. It was something you started calling the baby, and it just stuck. Lewis even bought the baby a little bug plushie. "Yes, it's something I called the baby," "That's cute," Jenson stands and walks over before settling on his couch and patting the empty side. You move and sit down, feeling your feet ache as you whine. "I'm not the father, but I want to help Y/n," You open your eyes and stare at him. The raw emotion on his face eats you alive, Jenson has always spoken about how much he's always wanted to be a father, and here he is, the father of your baby, and you're hiding that from him. Taking away the one thing he's truly wanted. 
"Jenson, you don't have to," Jenson moves, his large hands wrapping around your ankles and lifting them to his lap, and slowly rub the soles of your feet. "Jenson, please, I'm doing this alone," You whisper and pull your feet in, knees tucked into your chest. Jenson stares at you, the rejection hurting, but he clears his throat. "So, I'm just your boss, and you're my assistant, and us fucking, us telling each other we loved one another, that never happened? Instead, you fucked, Sebastian, and now you're pregnant with his baby, not mine." Jenson snaps, standing up, and you flinch, his anger leaving just as quickly as it came. 
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm just," You don't know what comes over you, but you start to cry and hold your arms out to him, just wanting to feel his warmth and smell the whiskey and earth that clings to him. Jenson doesn't think twice and sits down, pulling you into his lap. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," You repeat, sobbing into his chest. "It's okay, I'm here, I'm always here," 
----------------------
3 months later, 8 months pregnant 
You don't know how it happened, but one day, you were living in your lovely apartment, and suddenly, you were living in Jenson's home, painting the nursery together. Now, you're lying in bed, wondering if you should talk to Jenson. 
He wasn't his usual self; as your stomach grew, the more he refused to let you out of his sight, and you could tell he was slowly losing his mind. According to Lewis, he saw Sebastian not too long ago, and they both left the room with busted lips and black eyes. Jenson came stalking into the house, stormed past you, and locked himself up in his study hours ago. Unable to sleep, you throw the covers off and groan. 
Your stomach was heavier and heavier by the day as your little bug was dropping, getting ready for you to give birth. Holding your stomach, you waddle to his study and knock on the door softly. "Jense, it's me." You push it open with ease and stop seeing him sitting at the desk, his head down and a bottle of whiskey half empty. "Jenson," You whisper, close the door, and walk farther into the study. "Jenson, love," You whisper, hating how you living here has made you two grow closer, scary close for you. 
He looks up, and you hiss, seeing his eye and lip swollen. "That should be my baby; I wish it was my baby; I wish you were mine." He croaks, and you freeze, your hold on your stomach tightening. "Jense," "I would take such good care of you because I-.. because I love you." He whimpers, sounding so broken that you blink, and tears slide down your cheeks. Your chest aches; you knew he'd remember nothing in the morning. He was far too drunk to even correctly see if it was you in front of him and not some dream. 
"Jenson, he is yours," you whisper, stepping forward and cupping his face, wiping the tears as his hands touch your stomach, staring at it. "Don't hurt me like that, baby. It's okay; I don't need to lie to protect my heart. Don't care. I will care for them no matter what. I will care for both of you," He slurs with a sad smile. That ache in your chest grows as you pull him up; he stumbles but stands upright and blinks slowly. "Let's go to bed, Jense." Jenson nods and follows after you. He stumbles occasionally, but you carefully lead him into the room, and he flops onto his bed. 
"Go to sleep," You lean down and kiss his cheek, but he stops you, and you freeze, having never seen such vulnerability in someone before. "Stay, I'm, just stay," He begs, and you nod, not even thinking twice as you climb into the bed and sigh. Jenson's hand moves to your stomach, lying on it protectively. You flinch, feeling a little kick, and Jenson giggles. "Hey, little bug, I'm Jenson. I'm not your father, but I'll love you like one." You bite your bottom lip hard, trying not to sob as Jenson slips off into sleep, leaving you to sob quietly into the pillow. 
---------------------------
1 month later, Hospital 
Jenson couldn't believe it; this tiny little human, the tiny bug, was finally here, in his arms. You slept soundly as Jenson refused to leave your side, and Lewis was picking out the perfect outfit to take him home in. "Should we do the bugs?" Jenson makes a face, and Lewis sighs as Jenson can't look away. The tiny bundle was tucked tight in his arms, staring up at Jenson. Jenson hated that the baby had Sebastian's eyes, these perfect little blues, with a little button nose and perfect lips. 
"Here, dress him in this," Lewis says, holding out a pretty blue onesie, but Jenson shakes his head. He and the baby were doing skin-to-skin, and it felt like the perfect thing to do like the universe was frozen and nothing was wrong in the world. Jenson, you have to dress him." Lewis whispers, and Jenson finally looks away and groans, taking the onesie. "Ruining mine and bug's moment." "His name is Theodore, Theo for short." Jenson doesn't think it is possible, but he falls more in love with the little boy and his mother. 
"Called Sebastian," Mark walks into the room and coos at the little blue eyes staring at him. Mark freezes and looks at Lewis with realization; Lewis slowly shakes his head no, and Mark looks at you, sleeping peacefully in the bed, and back at one of his dearest friends dressing the tiny human. "Yeah, what did he say? Does he even want to see his son?" Jenson asks in a cheery tone, but they can hear the anger in them. 
Theo coos and yawns. Mark melts before shaking his head. "Um, he said, 'Oh, that's good,' and hung up." Jenson picks up little Theo and holds him close like any father would. "Fuck him," Lewis casts a glare, and Jenson doesn't see it too wrapped up in little Theo, who just stares right back at Jenson. 
"Jenson," Lewis whispers; his close friend looks up with so much happiness and love that Lewis feels his heartbreak. Don't forget, he's not yours." Jenson's smile fades, blinking slowly as he looks back down at Theo and then at you. I know, but a man could dream." Jenson's voice breaks as he leans down, kissing Theo softly. "A man could dream," he whispers softly. 
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hitomisuzuya · 1 day
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Yandere!Kunikuzushi (Scaramouche) x fem!reader. Smut. Breeding kink. Aphrodisiac. Creampie. Finger sucking. One mention of killing. Scaramouche peeks through occasionally.
Yandere Kunikuzushi won the poll. I hope this measures up to the first part. Kuni cumming inside for the first time.
As much as Kunikuzushi enjoyed devouring your pussy to his heart's content, he was starting to crave more. There was something so intensely arousing about cumming inside of you. He knew very well that it ran the risk of pregnancy, but your hips just looked so fucking perfect. Perfect for breeding.
He didn't want just that though. Oh no, he wanted so much more. He knew you would agree without hesitation to let him cum inside of you, you were starting to crave him as much as he craved you.
Kunikuzushi wanted you to look him right in his eyes, your eyes glassy with lust and desperation for him and tell him you wanted him to cum inside. He'd read about aphrodisiacs. He deduced that this would be the best method to get you say that without him asking first.
His cock throbbed thinking about folding your body into a mating press, being caged in by him and doing nothing but moan and cry for him while he pumped his cock inside of you, his cum seeping and coating it more with every thrust.
Kunikuzushi put his plan into action once he obtained the aphrodisiac capsule from a small pharmacy. You were distracted with a book when he broke open the capsule in the drink he got for you from the kitchen.
Now all he had to do is sit and wait, anticipating when the symptoms of the aphrodisiac setting in started to show.
He counted every second until he saw you shift restlessly on your bed. It looked like you were having a hard time concentrating. "Is something wrong?" He asked innocently as you closed your book and set it aside.
Your cheeks were flushed, and your breathing was sort of labored. You looked at him and said, "I feel really warm, and my body aches," You said, moving closer to him on the bed.
"Oh? Do you want me to go and get a doctor?" He asked, putting a hand on your forehead.
You shook your head. "No, I don't. Did you know that I have always thought your fingers are beautiful?" You said, glancing longingly at his fingers.
Kunikuzushi smirked. You were already so far gone. There was only one thing on your mind now. And that was him. He could see it in your eyes. "Oh?" He said, brushing his fingers on your lips. "You look like you have something rattling around in that pretty head of yours."
"Mhm," You said, the tip of your tongue flicked out against his fingers, sending a shiver through him. "I want to suck on your fingers, and then," You stroked his wrist, "I want you to cum inside of me."
Kunikuzushi felt such a rush course through him. You were just so fucking addicting. You would never say that to the blacksmith who he overheard telling his friend about wanting to ask you out. And then in the next breath said very vulgar and distasteful things about you.
That man was by now weighed down by rocks and dismembered, serving as fish food. Never to be found. He bled out so fast, but a pound of flesh was the only payment he would accept for insulting your honor in such a disgusting manner.
Kunikuzushi pushed his fingers into your mouth, savoring the happy moan that you muffled on his fingers. He pumped them in and out of your mouth, his fingers exploring as you sucked.
You gagged as he pushed his fingers into your throat. He was fast getting swept up in the dominant power he held over you. He could've made you choke over and over on his fingers and you would've gladly kept sucking once you recovered.
Your tongue lapped and curled, worshipping on his fingers. When he couldn't ignore the throbbing in his cock any longer, he took his fingers out of your mouth. Capturing your lips in a heated, open mouth kiss, his hands hastily removed your clothes.
Kunikuzushi indulged in every fantasy he'd jacked himself off having about you. This would be the first time his cock was ever inside of you. It felt so good to just let go and further corrupt you. He needed to build you up to a certain point by making you cream over and over again on his tongue first.
You felt such comfort under the sheer weight of his dominance as he bit and sucked bruises that would rapidly darken on your skin. Everyone would know you belonged to him. They needed to know. That way they wouldn't dare to fathom taking you away from him.
Your pussy felt so wet on his cock, your body folding so fragile and pliant underneath him as he bent you into the mating press he'd read so much about. He could tell your body struggled to tremble in pleasure as he pinned you down, caging you underneath him.
His hands tightened possessively on your wrists, holding them down on the bed, and using them as leverage to grind his aching cock between the drooling folds of your cunt.
"Say it again," He groaned, teasing the head of his cock against your clit. "Tell me you want me to cum inside again," Your pussy clenched around the tip of his cock, your hips jerking up to urge it against your entrance.
"Yes, Kuni, please! Cum inside of me!" You pleaded, struggling to grind against his cock. Need for him gripped your body, amplified by the aphrodisiac. You mewled, the sensation of his cock teasing against your clit sent made your body ache, and tremble more.
Kunikuzushi wouldn't dream of denying you. Especially not when he had dreamt of this moment so many times. With a husky groan, he pushed his cock inside of you.
"So wet," He moaned, his cheeks flushing from how lewd his cock sounded as your pussy swallowed it. "So tight. Clenching like a perfect slut on my cock," He pulled out just to bottom out again, his cock throbbing as your walls squeezed around it.
Kunikuzushi enjoyed watching you struggle to buck your hips up as his kissed his cock into your sweet spot. He felt your body melting under his with every thrust of his cock, surrendering yourself to him completely.
You looked so cock drunk, drool pooling from the corner of your mouth as you moaned shamelessly. Shamelessly for him. It sent him reeling that you made someone like him capable of feeling such filthy human emotions.
The closer he got to cumming, the more he started to whimper with raw need. It sounded so disorienting to him that he had to kiss you, forcing his tongue into your mouth to muffle them.
The way your fingers intertwined with his, squeezing like you were clinging to him was pure bliss to him. The mewl of pleasure when he emptied his cock inside of you, unable to stop thrusting down into you was utterly addicting.
He wondered if you could even hear yourself babbling about you were his and only his fucked so dumb on his cock.
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totally-italy · 2 days
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Wherefore dost motivation hold deep hatred for me?
As the heading probably implies, I am currently lacking a lot of motivation, which is truly sub-optimal because I literally have my Italian GCSEs this week and I literally have not revised. Moreover, my End of Years are fast approaching and I have my French GCSEs in three week's time. Help.
Consequentially, even though my history teacher still refuses to believe that it is a word, I have decided to turn this into one of those posts where my dopamine literally just relies on the number of notes that I recieve. As promised, @the-red-planet-mars, the floor is yours you have been tagged.
Rules:
Please don't spam the comment section.
You can tag a maximum of 5 people.
Please don't spam reblog.
10 notes: I will actually plan my English homework so that I can then do it without having to ask for an extension. It is due on the day on which I have two of my Italian papers.
15 notes: I will update my 'Aeneid' notes so that my virtual document is up to date with the translations that we have done in class. I should technically also revise the themes and how Juno is portrayed, but we don't talk about that right now.
20 notes: If I haven't done this yet, I will create both a Spanish Quizlet with all the vocabulary I need to learn and I will create a Latin one for all the vocabulary from 'The Aeneid' that I need to know.
25 notes: I will plan, in English, different things that I could say for the picture for my French IGCSE oral. Also, this is a picture I will be using for my Spanish End of Years, so that is doubly helpful.
30 notes: I will do an Italian listening paper though I will listen to it at a faster speed than what is asked because otherwise I will literally get so bored and lose all will to live.
45 notes: I will finish researching Virgil and the historical context.
60 notes: I will practice Latin and Greek vocabulary on Quizlet every day after this week, for at least 10 minutes each day for each language.
75 notes: I really need to do this. I will make a poster with how to form different tenses in Italian.
100 notes: I will do an Italian Writing practice paper. This is going to cause me so much suffering. Help me.
120 notes: I will actually write down different expressions, including idomatic phrases, that I could use to describe the picture for my French IGCSE oral.
130 notes: I will make physics notes on energy.
140 notes: I will make notes on quantitative chemistry.
150 notes: I will make a poster with how to form different tenses in French.
155 notes: I will watch the AQA videos on the Cold War and make notes on them.
170 notes: I will do a practice Spanish listening paper.
200 notes: I will practice Latin and Greek vocabulary on Quizlet every day after this week, for at least 30 minutes each day for each language, including a written vocabulary test.
230 notes: I will do a practice Spanish reading and writing paper.
250 notes: I will do a practice Latin translation and ask my teacher if she happens to have a mark scheme.
270 notes: I will do a practice Greek translation and ask my teacher if she happens to have a mark scheme.
300 notes: I will finish my RSP notes on Crime and Punishment.
350 notes: I finish my Biology notes on reproduction.
380 notes: I will finish my RSP notes on Religion and Life.
430 notes: I will look through my history notes on Germany and finish them in accordance to the AQA book.
520 notes: I will do a practice Greek language paper.
530 notes: I will do a practice Latin language paper.
605 notes: I will actually write down different expressions, including idomatic phrases, that I could use to describe the picture for my Spanish End of Year oral.
720 notes: I will finish my RSP notes on Buddhism.
850 notes: I will make full notes on the Cold War.
Honestly, if you have even bothered to read through all of these, you have absolutely earned more respect that I thought I was capable of giving to a single human being. I technically have a lot more things I should do, including re-reading Things Fall Apart and actually making complete maths notes, as well as notes for the sciences, but I doubt I will never get this many tags anyway.
Edit: It has been five minutes and I already got 14 notes. I am actually terrified of this site. What in Tartarus? Y'all are crazy and I love you so much.
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