#and he can be a little more lighthearted in the same way i | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ellemj · 4 months

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Bigger Than He Was

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader One-Shot: SMUT

Request by @littlemiss-yeehaw: jealous!Bucky, fake dating, handjob.

Summary: Bucky pretends to be your new man when you run into your ex in public. However, the little act of pretending sparks something inside of him that he didn't know was there.

Warnings: profanity, alcohol consumption, handjob, oral (male receiving), unprotected sex, breeding kink, slight size kink, jealous!Bucky, MINORS DNI, 18+!!!

Word Count: 7.8k

A/N: The first request I wrote from the smut menu had to be from my Tumblr best friend. Not only does she pre-read nearly everything that I post, but she keeps me from deleting my blog on a near daily basis, and she keeps me sane. I hope you all enjoy it as much as she did. If it wasn't for this girl, my blog would've been deleted before Needs & Wants was ever completed lmao.

You’ve decided that no one in the world looks more out of place than a super soldier in a grocery store. Specifically, a super soldier in the produce aisle of a small local market. He looks like a bull in a China shop as he scours through a bin of tomatoes to find ones he approves of. He holds one tomato in each of his leather gloved hands as he compares them carefully, acting like choosing between the two is every bit as difficult as deciding whether someone lives or dies in his usual line of work.

“They’re pretty much the same, Bucky, and we only need two. Just put them in a bag.” You say with a sigh, resting your elbows on the handle of the shopping cart that you’ve been pushing as you’ve trailed behind him. Though you’re the one carrying the team’s grocery list, Bucky’s been the one pulling things off of the shelves and setting them in the cart. You originally suggested each of you taking half of the list and splitting up to get the shopping done faster, and to avoid the pointless arguments and annoyances you’d face in each other’s presence, but Bucky’s only response to your idea was a furrowed brow and silence. So, you’ve been following him around with the shopping cart safely between the two of you.

Bucky starts to put both of the tomatoes down and pick two different ones just to bother you, but he takes the high road and bags the two he’s already holding instead. He’s usually assigned to grocery shopping with Sam, which he definitely prefers, but with Sam off to visit his family this week, he ended up being stuck with you.

“What’s next?” Bucky asks, setting the plastic bag of produce in the cart and then casting you a sideways glance. You cross tomatoes off of the small piece of paper in your hand before moving on to read the next item.

“We’re done with food items, next is ibuprofen, melatonin, and some feminine products.” You answer, lifting your gaze to meet his as you tap the pen against the piece of paper absentmindedly. Bucky nods curtly and starts leading the way down the aisle, knowing all of the aisles with medication, first aid, and toiletry type supplies are on the opposite end of the store. You follow a few feet behind him, missing your usual shopping buddy, Wanda. Though it’s a menial task, you always seem to have a fun time when the two of you are on the grocery schedule for the week. Bucky is a stark contrast to your far more bubbly, lighthearted friend.

You’re lost in thought as you turn a corner and enter the pharmacy aisle, not paying any attention as Bucky looks through various types of over-the-counter medications. It isn’t until you hear a voice one aisle over that you straighten up and tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear. The voice sounds familiar, so familiar that you find your ears straining to hear it better so you can identify it. Is it an old friend? Someone from SHIELD? You can’t be sure, but you’re starting to think it isn’t a friend by the way your nerves seem to be rising with every incoherent word that they mutter. You leave Bucky standing at one end of the aisle as you walk ahead, trying to get closer to the source of the voice. You’re nearly at the opposite end of the aisle when suddenly, the front end of another shopping cart appears and quickly turns in front of you, almost colliding with the front end of yours. You stop abruptly for two reasons. The first reason being so you don’t cause a pileup on aisle thirteen. The second reason being because you now see whose voice was causing your heart rate to elevate and your stomach to twist into a knot. Your fucking ex-boyfriend.

“Oh, wow, hey!” The man before you extends the greeting so casually, as if he didn’t waste a year of your life with meaningless words and empty promises. He raises a hand to rub the back of his neck, his eyes darting over his shoulder just as a pretty blonde woman steps into view. Oh. “This is uh, this is my girlfriend.” He gestures to the woman before looking back at you with a wary glance, clearly trying to gauge how you feel about him committing to someone new so soon. The woman offers a small smile and wave as she introduces herself by name, but it all goes right over your head. You’re frozen like a deer in headlights, unable to tear your eyes away from the piece of shit behind the cart full of organic produce and a questionable amount of wine.

Bucky’s watching everything unfold from a few yards behind, acting as if he’s still deciding between a name brand bottle of ibuprofen and a generic version of the same. He gives you a few seconds to soak in the obviously awkward social situation as his eyes analyze your body language. You’re tense, your grip on the handle of the shopping cart is so tight that your knuckles are turning white. It’s been ten seconds since the woman introduced herself to you and you still haven’t uttered a word. Bucky glances to his right and notices the selection of condoms, lube, and pregnancy tests spread over the shelves next to the medication section. He only takes a second to weigh his options: let you continue to flounder in front of your shitty ex and his new victim or offer you an easy reprieve while simultaneously sending your ex into a mental spiral. His gloved hand wraps around a couple of boxes of pregnancy tests and he pulls them off of the shelf, signifying he’s chosen the latter.

“Oh, trying for a baby?” Your ex jokes when Bucky approaches from behind you and drops a handful of pregnancy tests into the cart.

“No, it’s just smart to have a few of these on hand when we only ever fuck raw. Do we know you?” Bucky’s tone is calm and even, like he’s just said something completely within the ordinary. It breaks you out of the trance you were in and you blink your eyes as you feel the heat from Bucky’s body enveloping you in warmth. He cages your body between his and the cart, his chest brushing against your back as he places his hands on either side of yours on the shopping cart handle. You don’t see the way his lips curve upward into a shit-eating grin as your ex’s face falls at both Bucky’s unfiltered words and the public display of affection he’s witnessing.

“Aren’t you…” The man addresses Bucky with slightly widened eyes and an unsure voice. You almost laugh at the effect Bucky has on the poor guy’s demeanor, and the fact that Bucky towers a few inches over the man is just icing on the cake.

“Bucky.” Your ex has just realized that not only are you grocery shopping with the Winter Soldier, but you’ve also been letting him fuck you.

---

Your week has been full of unexpected moments, but two stand out in particular. The first moment was when Bucky so calmly chose to play the role of your fake boyfriend at the grocery store three nights ago. Nearly every waking moment since then has been spent replaying it in your head, wondering why he decided to step in and do that for you, why he decided to take such a blunt approach and tell your ex that the two of you prefer unprotected sex, and how the hell he acted as if nothing happened immediately after the interaction was over. The second moment is unfolding right now. Your eyes are locked in on your phone screen as you mull over the text that’s displayed there.

Are you free tonight? Would love to sit down and catch up, want to talk about things.

You don’t have the number saved in your phone but you know exactly who it is. It’s the same shitty ex you ran into two nights ago, the same one who now thinks you’re fucking the Winter Soldier. Before you’ve even considered responding, a second message from the same unsaved number rolls in.

I’ll be at the bar we used to go to, the one off of 83rd street, in an hour. Hope to see you there.

The way your face scrunches up in confusion at the sight of the two texts on your phone screen piques Bucky’s interest as he steps off of the elevator and uses the collar of his t-shirt to dab sweat off of his neck. He’s just finished a pretty strenuous workout and had every intention of heading straight to his room to shower and spend the rest of the night in there, but he can’t ignore the feeling of some kind of invisible string tugging him in your direction. It was only two nights ago that he pressed himself against you in the grocery store and pretended like he knew what it’s like to have you in his bed. It was only two nights ago that you became a near constant thought in the back of his mind.

“Don’t tell me he texted you.” Bucky’s voice catches you off guard. You lift your gaze from your phone screen and lean back into the couch cushions, attempting to look perfectly at ease in his presence. Truth be told, you’ve been a little on edge around him since the night in the grocery store, but you don’t know why. Maybe because he saw you in such an embarrassing and vulnerable moment, in your own personal hell.

“He didn’t text me.” You lie, watching him carefully as the elevator doors close behind him and he takes the few steps across the room to reach the sectional you’re currently lounging on. It’s odd to see him sink into the opposite end of the piece of furniture so comfortably, like he’s such a normal guy. You don’t think you’ve ever seen him sit in the living room of his own free will, and it’s a sight to see.

“You’re a bad liar.” Bucky huffs. His expression turns thoughtful as he thinks back to his encounter with your ex that night. The corners of Bucky’s lips curl up into a smile when he remembers the way the guy practically shrank when he heard that the two of you like to fuck raw. “What does he want?” Bucky seems to have a sixth sense about this shit, so you decide to go with it and tell him the truth, see where it gets you.

“He said he wants to catch up and talk about things.”

“Right after seeing you with another guy.” Bucky points out, hoping you’ll see where this is going. You shrug your shoulders and cross your arms over your chest.

“I guess so, or maybe it’s unrelated. People break up and then discuss it later for closure sometimes, it’s a thing, Bucky.”

“So, you’re going?”

“I haven’t decided yet.” You answer honestly. You watch as Bucky nods slowly, as if he’s digesting the information and deciding what to do with it. He uses the collar of his t-shirt to wipe a bit of sweat away from his neck again, drawing your gaze down to the flexing of his bicep. You’re quick to avert your gaze back up to his eyes, but the satisfied smirk on his face tells you that he caught you looking.

“We’re going.” Bucky decides, sitting up a little straighter on the couch and running a hand through his sweaty hair. The bewildered look that takes over your face says it all.

“What the hell do you mean we’re going? There’s no we here, it’s just me.”

“I meant exactly what I said, we’re going.”

---

You stand in the garage of the compound, where everyone’s various vehicles are stored away safely. Your fingers pick at the frays of your black jeans absentmindedly as you lean against a concrete pillar, waiting for Bucky. You know you should just get in your own car and leave without him, there’s absolutely no good that will come out of letting him tag along for this. Yet, something in the back of your mind is tugging at you to stay and wait for him, to see what might come of this. Looking up at your reflection in the car window a few feet away from you, you take in the sight of your little ensemble. You’re wearing dark jeans paired with a tight little long-sleeved crop top that shows the tiniest bit of your midriff. You wanted to wear something fairly plain yet something that showed a little skin, so this is what you settled on.

Unbeknownst to you, Bucky’s outfit for tonight will go well with your own. He’s wearing dark jeans as well, but with a dark t-shirt and black leather jacket. As the elevator carries him down to the lowest floor of the compound, he has a brief second of clarity where he asks himself what the fuck he thinks he’s doing. First, he went against every rational thought in his mind when he pretended to be your boyfriend in a damn grocery store. Then, he spent two nights thinking about what it might’ve been like if he actually had been fucking you raw like he’d told to your ex he was. Those two nights ruined him. You ruined him. It took less than 48 hours for his mind to become completely preoccupied with you.

When the elevator slows to a stop and the doors slide open to let him into the private parking garage beneath the compound, his eyes fall on you instantly. Fuck. One look at you and he’s immediately decided that you’re not taking a car, no, you’re taking his bike. Hell, you’re dressed near-perfectly for it. The only issue is that bit of smooth skin you have showing beneath the hem of your little top, he’s not going to take you out on his bike and risk ruining that perfect skin of yours with road rash.

The ding of the elevator draws your attention to your right, where Bucky is stepping into the parking garage looking totally different than when you saw him upstairs half an hour ago. His messy hair has been washed and dried, his flesh and metal biceps are hidden within the sleeves of his leather jacket, and his neck is no longer glistening with a sheen of sweat. You’re unashamedly focusing on the way his jeans are accentuating the muscles of his thighs when he starts stripping off his leather jacket.

“Put this on.” He says as he holds the jacket out to you with one hand, reaching into the back pocket of his jeans with the other to fish out the key for his bike. Your eyes widen as you stare at the jacket in his outstretched hand. Shaking your head, you take a step back from him.

“Why?”

“Because you’re not riding on the back of my bike with skin showing, it’s not safe.”

“The back of your bike? Bucky, we’re taking a car.” You say defiantly, crossing your arms over your chest. Bucky can’t ignore the way your breasts are slightly pushed up by the action, a hint of cleavage peeking out over the lowcut neckline of your top. He quickly averts his gaze back to his motorcycle that stands a few feet in front of you both, a sigh leaving his lips at your stubbornness.

“Just put on the damn jacket.” He says, looking over at you one more time, but this time with a softened expression. You don’t know why you comply and take the jacket from him, but you do. It’s warmed from his body heat when you slip your arms into it and the way it engulfs you and pulls down on your shoulders with a bit of weight is almost comforting.

The motorcycle ride to the bar, however, is anything but comforting. The only other time you’ve ever been so close to Bucky was that night at the grocery store when he cozied up behind you for show. But this felt different. This involved your chest pressed against his back, your inner thighs brushing against his hips, and your arms wrapped around his torso. This felt intimate. It felt the same way to Bucky and he couldn’t ignore it, no matter how hard he tried. When he stopped at a redlight in the city, you let your hold around his abdomen relax for a moment. Your hands slid down to rest on the tops of his thighs as you remained pressed against his back, and he was praying for the light to turn green again before one of your hands had a chance to shift and find out how hard he was beneath the fabric of his jeans. He can only blame himself for the torture, since he was the one that insisted you take the bike.

When you turn onto the right street, you’re quick to tap Bucky’s thigh with your hand, completely missing the way he tenses up beneath your unexpected touch. You use that same hand to point to a small parking garage across the street from the bar that you’ll be heading into, and Bucky gets the signal. It’s only two minutes later that he’s parking his bike on the third floor of the garage and trying to keep his eyes off of you as you stand beside the bike, removing your helmet carefully. Some part of him can’t help but think that you’re being so careful because you want to look your best when you waltz into the bar to meet your ex, and he fucking hates it. He has the sudden urge to mess your hair up and send you in there looking like shit. But that urge only makes him think about all of the ways he could mess your hair up. He could grab you by it and pull you against him, he could run his hands through it and rake it into a ponytail while you’re on your knees for him…shit. He just volunteered to drive you to the bar to meet your ex. He can’t do a damn thing.

You hand Bucky your helmet and immediately start smoothing down your hair, seeing the look of disdain he gives you but choosing to ignore it. He had no obligation to be here with you tonight, but he insisted, so he has to put up with it.

“You don’t have to go in with me, I can do this on my own.” You say, hoping Bucky will choose to wait for you in the parking garage rather than go inside the bar with you.

“What are you planning to do?” Bucky asks, swinging his leg over as he dismounts the bike and joins you on the concrete floor. He stands in front of you, slipping his gloves off and resting them on the seat of the bike before reaching under the chin of his helmet to undo the strap there. Your eyes drift to the veins on his flesh hand and golden accents on his vibranium hand as you formulate a believable response.

“Hear him out, give him closure or whatever he’s here for.”

“Whatever he’s here for?” Bucky repeats your words almost sarcastically, scoffing beneath his helmet. When he pulls it off and rests it on the seat next to his gloves, you can see he’s scowling. “Why are you playing dumb? He’s here for you.”

“No, he isn’t. He’s with someone else now, and he thinks I am too.” You point out. A low chuckle rumbles past Bucky’s lips as he runs a hand through his hair and starts toward the concrete staircase on the other end of the floor.

“That’s exactly why he’s doing this, because he thinks you’re with someone else and he can’t stand it.” Bucky sounds so sure of himself, as if he’s experienced something like this before. In fact, he sounds so sure that it makes you wonder if he really has experienced this before.

“You think he’s jealous? You saw the girl he was with, didn’t you?” You question, falling into step next to Bucky. His leather jacket still sits heavy on your shoulders but giving it back to him hasn’t even crossed your mind yet. Bucky’s hoping you’ll forget about it and keep it on when you walk in and sit down across from that piece of shit ex you’re here for.

“She doesn’t have shit on you and he knows it.” His words leave your lips parted and your eyes widening in surprise as he reaches the staircase and starts heading down in front of you. As soon as the words left his mouth, he regretted them. For the most part, you’ve only ever heard him talk about you with an air of annoyance or indifference, but you could swear that what he just said was almost complimentary. If you could see the grimace on Bucky’s face, you’d know you were right. When he saw the blonde in the grocery store, he wanted to laugh at the way the guy had downgraded after losing you. She was pretty, sure, but you glow like the fucking sun even on your worst day.

“So, what should I be doing here tonight then?” You ask, knowing Bucky probably has a plan in mind if he came all this way just to witness what’s about to go down.

“Showing him that you don’t need him, that you’re better off without him.” You reach the bottom of the stairs and step out onto the sidewalk across from the bar. Bucky turns to face you as you scan the area for a crosswalk.

“And how do I do that?”

“For starters…” Bucky says, stepping closer to you and grabbing the front of his leather jacket that you’re still sporting, “keep this on.”

---

Bucky’s been standing at the bar for the last fifteen minutes, nursing both a beer and an aching jaw. The ache is from how hard he’s been clenching his teeth together since your ex strolled in and took the seat across from you at a little two-seater table across the room. Of course, the guy showed up without his new girl. And, of course, he’s been trying like hell to get you to smile and laugh at whatever half-assed jokes he’s been cracking since he sat down. Bucky knew the guy wasn’t after closure.

He watches with a less-than-pleased look on his face as the guy leans his elbows on the table and rests his hands a little too close to yours, but you don’t pull away. You’re sitting facing Bucky’s direction, yet you haven’t once let your eyes flit up to meet his. It’s infuriating. Bucky strains his ears to pick out your conversation through the din of the usual bar chatter around him. He listens intently as the guy tells you that it was nice to run into you at the grocery store, that he didn’t know if he’d ever see you again, that he missed the way you laughed. What a fucking ass. If Bucky remembers correctly, from overhearing gossip among the team, the guy had you nearly head over heels for him, and then one day he pulled the rug out from under you in and instant. He never even gave you much of a reason why. He simply called you up, ended the relationship over the phone, and a week later you heard through the grapevine that he’d met someone else. Why you felt compelled to meet the guy here tonight, Bucky will never understand. He doesn’t think the prick deserves even a minute of your time.

“So, you’re really seeing someone else now?” The man’s voice is like nails on a chalkboard to Bucky’s sensitive ears, but he continues to focus on your conversation anyway. Bucky has to know how you’ll respond. He watches out of the corner of his eye as you push a stray lock of hair back over your shoulder, over the shoulder of his leather jacket, and then you blush. Why are you blushing? Bucky’s heart starts to race in the slightest because he can’t figure out if you’re blushing at the idea of you and him being together or at your ex prying into your personal life.

“Yeah, he uh…at the grocery store, he…” You stutter through your answer. Like Bucky previously said, you’re a bad liar. The pink showing through the skin of your cheeks darkens another shade as you look away from your ex. Your eyes finally land on Bucky, who’s now standing at the bar facing you head-on. He holds your gaze assuredly and gives you a small nod, letting you know that you’re saying the right things. Somehow, just making eye contact with him and getting that small nod of approval calms your nerves.

“Right, I remember. I guess I kind of thought that was a joke.”

“A joke?” You ask, a bit offended at your ex’s confession. He rubs his hand across the back of his neck and lets out an awkward laugh before leaning back in his chair comfortably and taking a sip of his drink.

“Yeah, I mean the guy said you only ever fuck raw. You never once asked me to fuck you raw. It just didn’t sound believable.” Huh. You’re silent for a moment as you sip on your own drink and let your gaze float back to Bucky once more, unaware that he’s just heard every word that the man said. The two of you stare at each other with some kind of…tension in the air between your table and the bar. Honestly, if you and Bucky were actually together in some alternate universe where you didn’t find each other incredibly annoying from the start, you think you would love to let him fuck you without protection. Something about it just sounds so filthy and enticing. But when you imagine it with the man that’s currently sitting in front of you, the man who promised you a lifetime and then kicked you to the curb like a broken piece of furniture, you cringe. No, you never asked him to take off the condom, and you probably never would have. Truthfully, that should’ve been a sign.

Bucky’s eyes analyze the two of you as you put on a tight-lipped smile and then relax in your seat, fiddling with the zipper of the leather jacket draped around your frame.

“It didn’t sound believable?” You ask softly, looking up through your lashes in a way that makes Bucky’s cock twitch, and he’s not even the one you’re looking at. When you do flit your eyes over to him, he can sense the change in your demeanor instantly. You’re not coming off so lighthearted and timid now, you’re giving off an air that says you-don’t-know-who-the-fuck-I-am anymore. “When I look at you, I can’t even fathom the two of us having unprotected sex. It never once crossed my mind to ask you for that. But when I look at him?” You let your gaze travel over to Bucky once more, and this time your ex catches on. He turns in his chair, scanning the bar behind him until he sees the super soldier leaning against the bar with a smug smile on full display. “When I look at him, I can’t stop imagining it.”

---

Bucky’s leather jacket weighing on your shoulders, his body warmth seeping through his t-shirt and offering you reprieve from the wind that’s hitting you both head-on, his right hand reaching back to grip the side of your thigh as he weaves his bike skillfully in and out of traffic on the way back to the compound. All of those things are mixing and swirling together to create a near suffocating tension. You’re focusing on keeping your helmet from bumping into the back of his and even more than that, on keeping your mind out of the damn gutter. What you’d said back at the bar, the final thing you’d said before your ex realized he had no chance at getting back together with you, it was true. When you look at Bucky, you can’t stop imagining him fucking you without anything between your body and his. You don’t know when that started or when it might end, but it’s true. So, you left with him, climbing onto the back of his bike much more willingly than you had earlier in the evening. Not because you wanted to be close to him, but because you wanted to get home as fast as possible so you could get the hell away from him. Where on earth did this new found attraction come from? Why was your mind betraying your body with every single glance in his direction? Fuck physiology.

Bucky can almost hear you overthinking behind him as he turns off of the interstate and onto a quiet, private road leading up to the compound. Hell, he’s overthinking too. He heard what you said at the bar, and he saw the look in your eyes when you said it. Had you been thinking about him the same way he’d been thinking about you since that night at the grocery store. No, there’s no way. If you really had been, then you wouldn’t have wanted to meet up with your ex tonight. Bucky lets out a breath and slows the bike as he nears the entrance to the parking garage. Neither of you said a word when your ex stormed out of the bar, nor did either of you when you made the walk across the street to the public parking garage and started the ride back home. It’s been silent, unbearably silent for too long.

When Bucky finally parks the bike among the various vehicles owned by your friends and colleagues that reside upstairs, it seems as though you can’t get away from him fast enough. You swing your leg over and dismount the bike quickly before slipping your helmet off and taking a few steps over to the wall to set it on the shelf it originally came from. You’re halfway to the elevator when Bucky speaks, stopping you in your tracks.

“The jacket, sweetheart.” He says coolly. When you turn around, you see him still sitting on the bike, looking down at the helmet he holds in his hands. It almost bothers you that he isn’t looking back at you. He can call you sweetheart but he can’t lift his eyes to your face? You let out a deep sigh before walking back over to him and standing a foot away from him and the bike. You strip off the leather jacket a bit reluctantly before holding it out to him. You have to admit you feel a bit like you’re missing something without it on now. Bucky takes it without glancing in your direction, and as soon as you turn on your heel to walk away, you can hear him dismounting the bike and setting his own helmet on the shelf. You’ve just hit the button to call the elevator down to the garage when he decides to speak once again. “You’re a bad liar.”

“What?”

“You’re a bad liar. I don’t know much about you, but I know that.” Bucky says. You stand in front of the elevator but you can’t tear your gaze away from him when he’s speaking so ominously. You watch him carefully as he turns away from the shelf and faces you, but still doesn’t lift his gaze to meet yours. Instead, he smooths out his leather jacket before laying it over one arm and tucking the keys to his bike into the back pocket of his jeans.

“What does that have to do with anything?” You question, crossing your arms over your chest. Your eyes dart back to the screen above the elevator. It’s still so many floors away from reaching you.

“I knew you were lying when you told me he hadn’t texted you. I don’t even think your piece-of-shit ex believed you at first when he asked if you were really seeing someone new, you couldn’t even get a full sentence out. You’re a bad liar.” The words pour out of his mouth with ease, as if he pre-planned the entire speech. When you don’t say anything, he finally lifts his eyes to meet your narrowed stare. A shiver runs down your spine, but you blame it on the fact that you’re no longer wearing his jacket. “When I look at him, I can’t stop imagining it.” When Bucky repeats your words so perfectly, you can feel all of the color draining from your face. “When you said that, you didn’t stutter, you didn’t hesitate. You weren’t lying.”

“You think I was being honest?” The question leaves your lips with a hint of anger edging each word. Bucky merely shrugs in response, tilting his head to the side as he waits for you to answer your own question, since it’s obvious that he thinks you were being honest. “You think I look at you and imagine you fucking me raw?”

“Do you?” Bucky taunts, licking his bottom lip before drawing it between his lips and pressing his top teeth into it. Your gaze darts down to his lips against your better judgement, and when your eyes settle back on his, all you see is a reflection of what you’re sure your own eyes are showing. Lust. He thinks about it. He thinks about fucking you raw. In this moment, you’re sure. In fact, he’s thinking about it right now.

Your feet start moving before you even have a moment to consider the action, they’re carrying you straight toward him, ignoring the elevator that’s just arrived to take you away from him. When you stop a few inches in front of him, he’s staring down at you with a raised brow and building anticipation. He wants your answer.

“Yes.” You breathe the word out. In an instant, Bucky’s dropping his jacket to the floor and tangling his flesh hand in the hair at the nape of your neck as his pulls you into him, crashing his lips against yours. It’s a kiss that takes your breath away and fills your lungs with a fiery burn, yet you don’t want to break for air. You kiss him back, moving your lips to suck along his bottom one as you tilt your head to the right to give each of you better access. Bucky languidly drags the tip of his tongue along your top lip before snaking it lower and letting it delve into your mouth. God, he might’ve imagined fucking you but truthfully, he forgot to imagine kissing you. He never would’ve thought it could be this good. His vibranium arm wraps around your lower back, pulling you closer into him until his body warmth begins sending tingles across the surface of your skin. Once he has you flush against him, that same cool metal hand begins unwrapping from your back and traveling down until it’s in place to grip a handful of your ass, hard. When you gasp into the kiss, Bucky pulls back and bites down on your bottom lip. Fuck. If you don’t stop him now, he won’t be able to stop himself from having you right here in the garage. As if you’re reading his mind, you place both hands on his chest and pull your head back until there’s an inch of space between your mouths. While your eyes are focused on his pink nose and swollen lips, your mind is focused on what you feel pressing against your thigh. He’s fully erect, his cock straining against the front of his jeans just from kissing you. You could overthink this, let your mind weigh all of the pros and cons of what’s happening right now, and then convince yourself to be responsible and go upstairs to your own room, pretending this never happened. But for some reason, your right hand is already coasting down his chest, over his abs, and sliding between your lower bodies. You find yourself palming the outline of his cock, offering him such a perfect amount of pressure and friction that he can’t help but lean his hips forward and press his cock further into your touch.

“If you don’t stop now…” Bucky rasps, but his eyes flutter closed and he bites down on his lower lip before he’s even finished the sentence, your sensual touch getting the better of him.

“If I don’t stop now?” You encourage him to say what he wants to say, but you can’t fight the teasing smile that’s beginning to play on your lips.

“If you don’t stop now, you won’t be able to return all of those pregnancy tests on your next grocery run.” You laugh lightly as you lean in and press a soft kiss against Bucky’s jawline, continuing to rub his erection through the taut fabric of his jeans. “Are you thinking about fucking me raw, James?” You tease. Bucky groans before opening his eyes and pulling you away from his jaw by your hair. He doesn’t stop you from slowly sliding your hand back and forth along the outline of his cock, but he makes sure you’re looking right in his eyes before he speaks again.

“Right here in this damn parking garage.”

Without a single thought in either of your minds, Bucky lets you push your palms flat against his chest and walk him back until he stumbles onto the seat of his motorcycle. In one swift movement, you slip your hand past the waistband of his jeans and boxers and the warm skin of your hand comes into contact with his hard length, without anything between the two of you. Bucky lets out a heady groan and his hands begin moving all on their own, working to unbutton and unzip his jeans to give your hand as much space as possible. As soon as he has his pants undone, you shift your hand and wrap it firmly around his cock, giving it a slow stroke inside of his boxers. When you near the head of it, a bead of precum drips onto the side of your thumb and you smile to yourself as you spread it back over the smooth tip of his cock. What is it about having a man this way that makes a woman feel so damn powerful? Bucky looks at you with a mix of annoyance and awe at the way you’re working his cock so effortlessly yet turning him into putty in your hands. He’ll let you have your fun for now, and then he’ll show you that he can have the same effect on you.

The moment your eyes lock onto his, he slides his right hand along the side of your jaw and pulls you in for a kiss, the taste of your lips and the feel of your hand stroking back and forth along his hard-on is nearly enough to send him over the edge, and he inhales sharply, tugging his lips away from your own.

“I’m not going to have much use for those pregnancy tests if we keep going like this, am I?” You ask jokingly, as you remove your hand from Bucky’s pants and raise it up to your face. Bucky runs a hand through his hair as he blows out a breath and watches you intently. Your thumb, still a bit shiny and wet from his precum, ventures dangerously close to your mouth. You keep your eyes trained on Bucky’s as you use that same thumb to tug down your bottom lip before sliding it into your mouth and sucking.

“Oh, fuck.” Bucky groans, his rationality fleeing as his own flesh hand delves into his pants and begins mimicking your actions from a moment ago. The way your eyes follow his movements, your pupils blown wide with lust as you watch him touch himself, it’s too damn much for him. He grabs you by the hair once again, in that desperate, needy way that you’re quickly growing to love, and pulls you against his chest, kissing you as fervently as the first time. However, this kiss doesn’t last. He pulls away from you in an instant and suddenly, his hand is on your shoulder, pushing you down to your knees. Before you reach the floor, he uses the toe of his boot to slide his discarded leather jacket across the floor to cushion your knees. So fucking thoughtful.

Bucky stands up with you on your knees in front of him and his bike resting on its kickstand behind him. His eyes never part from your face as he pushes his already undone pants and boxers down his thighs just enough to free his cock from their confines. Your breath hitches in your throat as soon as you lay eyes on it, as soon as you lay eyes on the sheer size of it. Bucky doesn’t make a move to stop you as you reach up with both hands and take hold of his length, using one hand to begin stroking it from the base to the tip while your other hand grips his thigh. Your eyes widen at the way it looks even bigger in your hand, which is a mental image that Bucky will probably be recalling every day for the rest of his life. You’re more than ready to lean in and take him in your mouth, to experience every second of what it’s like to suck him off, but his gentle touch halts your movements. His flesh hand softly cups the side of your face as he lets his thumb caress the skin over your cheekbone.

“You’re so much bigger than he was.” You whisper, your eyes traveling up Bucky’s torso until you’re getting lost in his gaze. It’s true. Your ex was…well below average in this department. But Bucky? God, Bucky is so far above average it’s actually making you wonder if you can even fit half of him in your mouth. Bucky chuckles lowly before tracing your bottom lip with his thumb, and then copying your earlier move. He slips the pad of his thumb between your lips and watches with hooded eyes as you eagerly accept it, sucking on it gently. Fuck. He’s so ruined. Only a moment later, he’s standing there with his head thrown back and a string of curses are falling from his mouth as you bob your head back and forth, letting his cock slide along your tongue and brush against the back of your throat repeatedly. He’s fully lost in the pleasure of your mouth. He’s so lost, in fact, that when you grip his thighs with both hands and lean into him as far as you possibly can, letting your nose brush against his lower stomach and your throat tighten around his shaft as you gag, he lets out a groan that reverberates through the parking garage and sends a fresh wave of heat straight to your core.

“Fuck, do that again.” He rasps, finally looking down at you as you pull your head back until only the tip is resting on your tongue. A smile plays behind your eyes as you dare to look up at him. He can’t help himself. Both of his hands move to run through your hair, encouraging you to do exactly what he just said. You repeat your actions, moving your head forward and taking his entire length in until you gag a second time. But this time, Bucky holds your head still there for two seconds. His eyes squeeze shut as your throat grips his cock tighter and tighter, the sensation bringing him so close to the edge that he abruptly pulls back and leaves only half of his length for you to taste. “Just like that, shit.” Another minute of your mouth doing exactly what Bucky wants and he’s fighting with every cell in his body to delay the inevitable. He wanted to fuck you raw, truly, it was his intention from the moment you admitted you thought about it. But having you like this? Having you on your knees for him, telling him that his dick is bigger than the last piece of shit you were with? God, he’s so close to cumming in your mouth that it almost hurts.

“I’m so fucking close.” He groans the words out as if he’s in pain, as if he’s holding back because he doesn’t want to cum in your mouth. That just won’t do. So, you release him from your mouth with a pop and start working him with your hand as you tilt your chin up to meet his gaze.

“You don’t want to cum in my mouth?” You ask innocently, looking up at him through your lashes. It’s the same way you looked in the bar earlier and he feels his last bit of resolve crumbling. He could easily cum in your mouth, but that’s just not what he needs right now. In that desperate, needy way that you love, Bucky grasps your hair and pulls you to your feet. A whimper leaves your lips as his cock slips out of your hand.

“No.” Bucky says calmly, turning you around and pushing your back forward until your hands land on the seat of his bike. “I’m going to give you a reason to use one of those damn pregnancy tests.”

He’s swift in pulling down your jeans and panties with both hands, and then lining his cock up with your entrance and making you think he’s going to fuck you. But no, Bucky lets the tip of his cock gather the wetness that you’ve been sitting in since you left the bar, and then he begins chasing his release with his own hand. You let out a needy whine, pushing your hips back against him and hoping his cock will just happen to notch inside of you and slide all the way in, but Bucky isn’t going to let it happen until he’s ready.

He has a plan. He’s going to fill you with his cum first, then use his fingers, his tongue, and his cock to fuck it back into you after. The next time your run into your ex, Bucky wants you to be so fucking pregnant that the guy loses his goddamn mind.

There will be no tag list for the smut menu requests.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x you #mcu #marvel #the winter soldier #winter soldier

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twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat · 8 months

Text

call my name and i’ll come running ; satoru gojo

synopsis; satoru can be irritating, at times. but even if you push him away, he’ll always, always be there for you when you need him.

word count; 8.7k (this was supposed to b a short drabble but i was possessed by the devil halfway through)

contents; satoru gojo/reader, gn!reader, reader n toru have a fight, mild swearing (a couple fucks here n there), hurt/comfort, satoru has communication issues but he’s trying his best, depictions of stalking (reader gets followed by a random creep but satoru comes to the rescue dw), uhh implied thoughts of violence? (satoru wants to Maul said dude but doesn’t), literally just me being in love with satoru gojo for 8.7k words straight

a/n; no thoughts head empty only gojo running through the streets like a wild beast looking for u <33 im normal about him yeah.

“you’re so annoying sometimes, you know that?”

satoru smiles. the sentence isn’t one he’s unaccustomed to hearing.

usually, the words are soaked in an undeniable fondness, as they spill from your lips. rich with exasperated love. one that never fails to have the corners of satoru’s lips curling up, a mellow kind of joy blossoming in his chest.

but now, that fondness is nowhere to be found.

you sound thoroughly exasperated, and a little bit fatigued. more than anything else, there’s a vague irritation behind the tilt of your voice, something almost cold. it makes all the difference in the world.

and yet, despite that, a certain someone chooses to pay no heed to the bad omen.

“aw, c’mon. you know you love me, baby.”

satoru is grinning. lighthearted, awfully sweet. there’s a certain smugness to it, though, one he couldn’t wash away even if he was aware of it; you wouldn’t do so even if you could. that smugness is a part of him, one that you’d usually find endearing.

but right now, it only seeks to further your frustration.

it was a stupid fight, truthfully. completely meaningless. satoru had forgotten to pick up after himself for, like, the fourth consecutive time, and so you grew annoyed. not by a lot, but enough that you felt the need to be firm when you reminded him not to make the same mistake over and over again.

but satoru had only grinned, in that self-satisfied fashion of his, and apologized in a way you couldn’t possibly call sincere. then he did what he usually does — promises to work on it. to not do it again. he never follows through, though.

but even that thought wasn’t anywhere near enough to make you truly angry. what really began to irk you was the fact that satoru wasn’t taking you seriously, even in the slightest.

that’s how he always is, when it comes to this kind of thing. and you try to be patient, you do. you try to be understanding. sometimes you even appreciate that he keeps the atmosphere light, but other times, you just can’t help but feel irritated by it.

and the current situation happens to fall into the latter category.

you don’t care if satoru leaves a candy wrapper or two out, every once in a while. of course you don’t. it’s a silly thing to argue about. but would it hurt for him to just listen to you? to try to put himself in your shoes, for once? it’s not about the wrappers, or the undone dishes. it’s about the way he treats you when you complain about it — like it’s no big deal, like it doesn’t matter. even if it obviously does, to you.

so, gradually, the topic of your little argument began to shift, into a conversation about satoru. about the fact that he so adamantly refuses to talk about the things that bother you in a serious fashion. about the fact that he so adamantly refuses to take you seriously.

and he just keeps proving your point, with every word that falls from his lips.

at this point, you’re genuinely beginning to feel a little angry. but satoru doesn’t see that as the warning sign it is — he just thinks it’s cute. he’s just been cooing at you, this whole time, despite your numerous attempts to actually explain how much his behavior affects you sometimes. it feels a bit like talking to a wall. satoru keeps on teasing you, even as you try to be firm about your point, and only brushes you off with empty promises to do better and more unneeded comments about how much he wants to hug you when you pout like that.

and you falter, a little. of course you do. you’re weak to satoru. weak to his words, that sweet voice of his, that pretty grin. but that only makes everything worse, because if you let yourself look even a little bit flustered at his comments, he sees that as his cue to continue.

you don’t even know if he’s doing it on purpose, at this point. is he doing it because he knows it’ll annoy you, or does he genuinely not understand that you’re upset? you’d like to think that there’s no malicious intent behind it, but can’t he see how troubled you are? you don’t get it. you don’t get him, and that frustrates you most of all. satoru can be so goddamn convoluted, sometimes.

so you simply can’t help but feel annoyed. angry, even. how long have you been arguing for, at this point? you’re not sure. but you feel the frustration inside of you grow, as the minutes tick by, into something you know will eventually explode.

a sigh falls from your lips, deep and exasperated. a little bit exhausted. “i’m serious, satoru. you’re not even listening.”

“i am!” he protests, stubbornly. childishly. “you just look so cute when you’re all mad. not my fault you’re so distracting.”

satoru smiles, voice sugar sweet, but all you can do is frown. does he really think it’s cute that you’re upset? the thought makes you somewhat sad. but you can’t show that, can’t let that part of you win — you don’t even want to think about the possibility of you crying, because of this. yeah, no way in hell.

so instead, you channel it into anger. as the blood inside your veins comes to a boiling point, you dig your nails into the skin of your palms, gnawing at your bottom lip and shifting from one foot to another.

”satoru, i’m —” another sigh, sharp and vexed like the blade of a knife. ”i’m trying to have a serious conversation, here. can’t you see that i’m upset?”

satoru takes a moment to look at you, from behind the black glass of his shades.

he can. of course he can see that. you’re frowning, and there’s a crease between your brows, and you keep huffing and sighing every three seconds — you’re obviously, undoubtedly upset. and satoru wants to take you seriously, he does. it’s just that the part of his brain that only ever wants to coddle and tease you keeps persuading him not to.

he’s not lying, either; you do look cute. almost too cute to take seriously, when you’re pouting so sweetly, a little red in the face from all the frustration bubbling inside your chest. you look so small, glaring up at him like an angry puppy.

satoru can’t help but smile. it’d be impossible not to.

and he will listen to you, will take you seriously. he knows you’re angry, knows you’re upset, and he intends to deal with that properly. but he doesn’t need to do it right now.

just a little more teasing, before he has to stop beating around the bush. satoru dreads it, a little bit, dreads having to genuinely be serious, be open and apologetic. it always feels so strange, so discomforting.

all that stuff can wait until later. for now, he just wants to see you blush a little more, huff and puff at his limitless affection, that he knows you love deep down. where’s the harm?

(and therein lies the problem. satoru is observant, and typically good at seeing the line that he shouldn’t cross when it comes to you. but there are times when he slips up, times when he doesn’t realize that his words have begun to sting. times when the line becomes blurry, because he knows some part of you enjoys the way he babies you, and sometimes it blinds him to the part of you that doesn’t.)

satoru is smiling. it’s the same as always — big, bright, glazed over with honey-sweet adoration. smug and teasing. it’s such a satoru-like smile that it makes your breath hitch, sometimes, makes your heart race with wonder. but now all it does is annoy you. everything you love about satoru is annoying you, right now.

in your eyes, that pretty smile of his seems almost taunting. like he’s trying to pick a fight with you, trying to make you even more upset. you don’t want to blow up over something like this, you really really don’t — but for some reason, you feel dangerously close to. it’s not like you at all.

you bore into his eyes with a cold glare, even though you can’t exactly see them with his shades in the way. posture straight and rigid as you try to make yourself look bigger. you must look at least a little bit menacing, like this. right?

“i’m seriously angry with you,” you say, hoping your voice sounds as austere to his ears as it does to yours. “don’t you get that?”

satoru coos, unable to hold the sound back. he doesn’t notice the flicker of hurt in your eyes, only focusing on how the sunset rays frame your figure, kissing your skin with sun-soaked fervor. you look so pretty. and that angry look on your face is too tantalizing not to tease.

“aww,” he croons, inching closer to you. there’s a teasing glint in his eyes that you can’t see, unmistakably fond. “is my little baby that upset?”

you blink. his voice sounds even more sugar-sweet now, obviously exaggerated. there’s amusement there, too — like this is just one big joke to him. you think he must be doing it to belittle you, to embarrass you. speaking to you like you’re some kind of grumpy toddler, and not a grown adult trying to have a serious conversation with their partner. your blood boils, boils, boils.

— and so the cup overflows.

“oh, go fuck yourself.”

it’s almost in a hiss that the words fall from your lips, cold and harsh; they leave the confines of your throat before you have a chance to reconsider them, sudden and sickeningly heavy. crude, too. you’d never be so crass with him under normal circumstances.

but you’re overwhelmed, thoroughly and completely, and satoru is being particularly infuriating. you genuinely feel hurt by the way he’s disregarding your feelings, and that realization stings more than anything.

so you can’t help but say the words, louder than you meant to, before turning on your heel swiftly and walking out of the room.

you don’t even have time to register what you’re doing, legs moving on their own before your mind can catch up. brisk and heavy steps carry you to the door, all while you furiously attempt to blink away the tears of frustration that begin to form in your eyes.

it only takes a second for you to grab your jacket — then you’re out.

satoru hears the front door close, echoing off the walls of your apartment. you don’t quite slam it shut, but you close it with more force than usual, and he can’t help but inwardly wince.

a moment passes.

then, he flops down on the couch, lanky arms and legs dangling uncomfortably off the edges. the groan that slips from his lips is muffled by the soft cushion as he burrows his face into it, while replaying your interaction inside his mind.

satoru can’t help but feel uncomfortable, with this conclusion. a little bit irked. a vague something rests inside his chest, something he doesn’t quite want to admit to feeling. it makes him feel a little bit sick.

(”oh, go fuck yourself.”)

he can’t recall you ever raising your voice at him like that. when it comes to him, you’re usually so patient; soft, understanding, gentle. for you to have snapped in such a way — to have stormed out of the apartment in your anger — he must have pushed you pretty far.

satoru sighs.

he really pissed you off, huh?

(he can never quite seem to get this right, can he?)

it was never his intention to make you genuinely mad. he just lost sight of the line, for a second. that’s all.

and maybe he was also trying to avoid the issue, trying to avoid actually arguing with you. because he hates it. he hates it more than anything. satoru would much rather see you smile and blush than act all serious and sad.

he just wanted to make you laugh.

was it insensitive? yeah, probably. he just can’t help but fuck this up, it seems. now he’s gone and made you angry — and as much as the sight would usually thrill him, as cute as you look when you’re irritated, a pit of anxiety settles in his gut. everything just feels wrong.

more than anything, satoru feels restless. because, right now, there’s nothing he can do. he can’t chase after you, even if just to apologize — that’d make you even angrier.

he knows he needs to give you space. you were obviously overwhelmed; some fresh air will do you good.

it irks him, though. satoru wants to fix it. he always wants to fix everything, before it even breaks. and even now, all his mind can do is spin in circles, wondering how he could possibly cheer you up.

he’ll just have to apologize, when you get back. and hope you forgive him. maybe he can get you something sweet to munch on, or a bouquet of flowers. would that make everything okay again?

satoru doesn’t know. so he just scratches his head, and tries his damndest not to think of how defeated you looked before leaving.

your steps are heavy, dragging you forward, leading you somewhere you have no knowledge of. it’s chilly out, and the sun is already setting.

everything in the world feels so wrong. like it’s tilted slightly to the left, like the earth stopped spinning around its axis. like everything suddenly lost its saturation.

you just needed to get away from him, for a while. away from that smug smile, that patronizing tilt of his voice. you couldn’t even stand to be in the same apartment as him. it’s not often you feel that way, not often at all.

and it only increases your growing frustration.

you are beginning to calm down, though — you know you are. the crisp evening air and the pleasant mingle of people soothes your muddled senses, smoothing down the crease of your brow and the ache in your chest.

a heavy discomfort, and a growing guilt. that’s all you can feel, as the anger slowly seeps out of you, turning into vapour with every exhale of your breath.

you hate arguing with satoru. you hate it more than anything. the guilt clawing at your chest barely leaves any room for anger — you almost yelled at him. just the thought of doing that to satoru makes you want to cry.

because you love him, at the end of the day, even when he’s being absolutely insufferable. he’s a sweetheart, your sweet boy, always trying to lighten the mood and make you smile. maybe you should have been a bit more understanding; you know satoru’s bad at this stuff, bad with emotions and vulnerability. and deep down, you know he’d never hurt you, not on purpose.

he probably just didn’t realize that you were genuinely upset. it’s a mistake that anyone could make.

but it just makes you feel so frustrated. like he’s not even looking at you. always hiding behind those shades, never opening up. never letting you see him wear anything but a smile. you want him to take it slow, open up to you at his own pace, but that doesn’t make the wait sting any less.

it’s not like you were asking for a lot. first, you simply asked him to pick up after himself. the way you do, the way anyone does. then, you simply asked him to treat you with respect.

a sudden pang of bitterness runs through your chest. sure, you could’ve handled it all better — but he could have, too.

every step you take hits the pavement with an irritated kind of decision. whatever. whatever. for now, you don’t want to think about it — all you want is to walk around and take in the sights, enjoy the peace and quiet.

so that’s exactly what you do.

before you know it, the sun has set, and the moon has risen — shining down and painting the streets in a mesmerizing blue, ephemeral and tranquil. it’s enough to give you some peace of mind, as you lurk around familiar streets, soaking in all the open space. so different from that suffocating apartment, and the man inside it, with that shit-eating grin and those breathtaking eyes.

(he’s called you, a couple times. you haven’t been gone for long — an hour or so, you think, maybe two. some part of you wanted to answer, just to hear his voice through the phone, but the part of you that’s still awfully irritated shut that down immediately. so, stubbornly, you just let it ring.)

the streets are empty, and the sky is dark. the light of all the lampposts illuminate your way, along with the soft flicker of the moon and stars. an endless galaxy stretches out before your eyes, little pale dots of stardust shining like jewels.

an ever-lasting, never-changing sky, that continues on for infinity. limitless. all the space you could possibly want, and then some.

for a moment, you can only look at the glittering stars in wonder, soaking in the feeling of absolute solitude.

— it doesn’t last, though.

“you alone?”

a sudden voice calls out from behind you. close, discerningly so, enough to make you flinch. you curse yourself for not noticing anything sooner, caught up in looking at the starry sky, in angling your phone to take a picture of it.

hesitantly, you turn your gaze towards the sound — wincing under your breath when you see the man a couple steps away from you. he looks a little crazed, you think, shifting from foot to foot and hunching over.

oh fuck no.

great, just what you needed. that’s just your luck, isn’t it? your brain can only spin in circles, trying to get your body to react, to run. to do literally anything except just stand there like a deer caught in headlights.

in your nervosity, all you manage is a painfully awkward laugh, as you stutter out a halfhearted response.

“oh — no, i’m just waiting for my boyfriend!” you smile, unconvincingly. your face must be soaked in unease. whatever he wants with you, it can’t be anything good.

at least you said that one word clearly — boyfriend. you can only hope it’s enough to scare him away.

but the man only shifts a little more, emitting a gruff kind of hum, not saying anything else. your spine tingles with apprehension. every cell in your body wants you to leave. he seems a little intoxicated, you think, and the thought only stirs the anxious feeling in your chest further.

god. why does this have to happen to you? why now?

thankfully, you’ve got your phone in hand. as your mind scrambles for solutions, your fingers tap at the screen, urgently scrolling through your contacts. in such a frightened state, your acting must be positively awful, but you make a vague attempt. not like you’re getting any oscars for this, either way.

“sorry — he’s calling me now!” you stammer out, taking a step away from the man. he doesn’t make a move to follow you, so you take your chances and press your phone to your ear, feet carrying you forward with haste.

in your fear, you don’t think twice about calling satoru — but you can’t help but internally wince at the decision, as the anxious patter of your own heart resounds in your ears.

how are you supposed to talk to him, exactly? what are you supposed to say? hey, i know i just told you to go fuck yourself, but will you hear me out? i need your help.

and you do. you do need his help. all you want is for him to swoop in, to take you in his arms, your knight in shining armor.

satoru’s said it to you, before — that if you need anything, anything at all, you can come to him. that you can always, always lean on him, without exception.

you know that he likes helping you. likes it when you open up to him, when you put your trust in him. when you aren’t afraid to ask for his help.

so despite everything, you hold your phone to your ear, walking away with brisk steps and praying that he’s not petty enough to ignore your call like you did to his.

back home, satoru is still resting on the couch, tapping his feet and trying to distract himself.

he’s a little anxious. it’s dark out, and you’re not answering any of his calls. when you’re out of sight, like this, he can’t help but feel a little helpless — worried about everything that could happen to you. but it’s not like he can force you to pick up.

you’re probably at a friend’s house, or something. telling them all about what an asshole your boyfriend is. as much as the thought stings, satoru hopes it’s true; it’s all he can comfort himself with. anything is fine as long as you aren’t out walking alone, in the cold, in the dark.

entirely caught up in his spiralling thoughts, satoru almost flinches when the phone rings. laying on the table in front of him, just within arm’s reach. it only takes a second for him to react as his gaze flits to the bright screen, and he sees the contact name, the many heart emojis littering it.

with a start, satoru jumps up. his back straightens out, and his hand flies to grab the phone — he’d feel embarrassed at his own eagerness, but right now he just can’t help it. even under ordinary circumstances, he wouldn’t let the phone ring more than twice, always giddy to hear your voice whenever possible.

this time, however, he does falter slightly.

he takes a split second to simply stare at the phone in his hand, at the affectionate contact name. what is he supposed to say to you, exactly? how is he supposed to act?

satoru doesn’t know, but as if afraid that you’ll change your mind and stop the call, yourself, he opts to simply answer. he’ll just have to figure out what to say on the fly.

(unfortunately, satoru’s instinctual response to anything is either smugness or playfulness.)

“well, well. look who finally decided to pick up.”

you’re the one who called him, not the other way around — but satoru can’t be bothered with small details like that right now. he only hopes you don’t notice the faint nervosity in his voice, the stiffness as he tries to sound unbothered.

you don’t notice anything at all, mind far too muddled, too clouded by fear. all you can do is take a deep breath, desperately trying to grasp control over your wavering voice.

“— satoru?” you call out, voice meek and frail. the man in question notices it immediately, sitting up a little straighter, but before he can say anything you continue. “i’m sorry, i just — are — are you still at home?”

there’s an anxious tilt to your voice, one that’d be impossible for satoru to miss. your words are a little breathy, spoken in a fast tempo, and he feels a sudden dread crawl up his spine.

something is wrong, his senses alert him.

“yeah,” he hums, trying to hide the turmoil in his own voice. “why? is everything okay?”

the line is quiet, for a second. “it’s just —“ an exhale, as you once again attempt to steer your voice in a less nervous direction. “just… some creepy guy tried to talk to me. i told him i was waiting for my boyfriend and now i’m walking away from him but he’s still following me.” another exhale, as you worriedly sneak a glance over your shoulder. ”i just — i don’t know what to —”

“where are you?”

satoru cuts you off, voice eerily serious. his gaze turned cold the moment he heard creepy guy, legs moving him towards the coat rack by the front door as if on autopilot.

he’s already left the apartment by the time you answer, looking around you meekly.

“i… don’t know,” you sigh. “i’m not far. i walked past that one crêpe stand by the park but then i, like… continued up that street? and now i don’t really know where i’m going.”

you continue, a little exasperated as your gaze flits around the dark street. attempting to recall your steps, a difficult task with how on edge you feel. “i’ll try to look for a sign, or something,” you gulp. “… i’m sorry. i just wanted to get away from him.”

satoru’s voice is comforting, when he speaks, eager to console you. grounding and soft. “hey, it’s okay. i’m heading there now, alright?” he smiles, hoping you’ll hear it in his voice. “i’ll be there before you know it.”

you do hear it, and his words ease a little of the anxiety in your chest, despite your fear. “okay.”

the line grows quiet, again, and your brows furrow in worry. “can — can i keep talking to you?” you ask, uncertain. a little pitiful. ”please?”

“of course,” satoru answers, instantaneous. he’s already making his way towards the crêpe stand with decision in his steps, mentally scanning the area ahead. despite his own anxiety at the situation, he attempts to sound as secure as he can possibly manage, desperate to soothe the worry in your voice.

“try to relax for me, okay? nobody’s gonna hurt you. not while i’m here.”

his words are absolute, as he consoles you. he sounds so sure of himself, so much that you can’t help but believe in his words. so you nod, emitting a weak hum when you remember he can’t see you.

“can you tell me what you see, baby?”

“uhh…” you look around, blindly, trying to find some sort of meaningful hint around you. “there’s like… some toy shop?”

satoru only hums. “can you check your location on your phone?”

you blink.

of course. why on earth didn’t that cross your mind before?

“oh — yeah — fuck. i’m sorry. i don’t know why i didn’t —“ you sigh, heavy. “hold on.”

following satoru’s instructions swiftly, your gaze scans over the screen. he waits, patiently, already heading past the park and up ahead. as soon as you succeed in finding the name of the street, you echo it to him.

satoru sighs, a little relieved. “okay,” he hums. “i’m not that far away. i’ll be there soon.” he only hopes his words can soothe your fear, even a little. “is he still following you?”

you glance behind you, and meet the gaze of the stranger. just like you were afraid of, he’s still following you — if anything, he seems to have gotten a little closer. with a jolt, your heartbeat picks up.

“yeah,” you gulp.

satoru’s chest tightens. he emits a low hum. “just hold on. i’ll hurry.”

focusing only on the tilt of satoru’s voice, you try to calm your breathing. you just want to see him. the thought of doing so is the only thing keeping your trembling ribcage intact, at this point.

you swallow a shaky breath.

“thanks, toru.”

a sudden pang of ache sprouts in satoru’s chest, like thorny vines curling around his ribcage. his heart hurts. you sound so scared, so very small.

this is all his fault, he thinks. all of it. he got too careless; none of this would’ve happened if he had only been more considerate. if he had just stopped you from leaving and apologized, or hadn’t upset you in the first place. then he wouldn’t have to hear that scared little voice, wouldn’t have to imagine your body shaking like a leaf in the cold night. so far away from him.

but satoru can’t beat himself up over it, not yet. there’ll be more than enough time for that later. for now, he needs to get to you — that’s the only thing on his mind.

so he lets his feet carry him forward, running towards your location with bated breath. he’s sure you can hear it, through the phone, even though he tries to contain it.

the sound consoles you, if anything. it reminds you that satoru is there, that he’s on his way. that there’s no need to be scared.

but you can’t help but freak out, a little, when you hear the man call out from behind you.

“hey!” he slurs, stumbling towards you with unsteady steps. his voice is loud, angry, and it sends your mind reeling into panic mode.

a flinch overtakes your body, before you stumble forward, walking even faster than before. you’re almost running now, breath hitching as you gulp. satoru hears it all — your panic, the echo of the man. his own tempo picks up.

“baby, calm down, okay?” he consoles you, voice concerned and honey-sweet. “just keep walking. i’m almost there.”

“sorry —“ you squeak out, between flurry breaths. breathing uneven, laboured and anxious. but you try your best to calm down. “‘s just scary.”

it almost feels physical, the way it irks him. satoru wants to pull you close, more than anything, but he can’t. and that just makes the calamity inside his chest grow, clawing at his ribcage as if trying to escape, to go to your side.

(he never, ever wants to hear that kind of fear in your voice again.)

“i know,” he soothes. “you’re doing good, honey. listen — he’s not gonna touch you. i won’t let him. you have nothing to be scared of.”

you nod, even as you exhale a shaky breath. ”i know.”

and you do. you know there’s a truth, to satoru’s words, one that’s never failed you before.

because satoru is your safe space, at the end of the day — he can be annoying, outright insufferable, and sometimes he’s bad with emotions. but he tries, you know he does. and, more than anything else, you know that he’ll always, always be there when you need him. he’ll always be there to protect you.

and a part of you is sure that everything will be okay, as long as he’s around.

(it’s easy to forget how trustworthy satoru really is, how much he cares. how dependable he is. and how serious he can get, when he truly needs to be, despite his childishness. it’s moments like these that remind you of that.)

but it’s still scary, at the end of the day. you can’t help but feel uncomfortable, a little lost in the world. because you and satoru just fought, you just told him to go fuck himself, and yet here he is. running to your side, in the middle of the night, because you’re scared and alone and you need him.

the man continues to shout, behind you, muttering curses you can’t quite make out. you look over your shoulder nervously, steps hurried.

and satoru runs like a man possessed, through the moonlit streets, gaze scanning the area like a wild beast. his most visceral instinct is screaming at him, tugging at his flesh and bones, desperate to protect you. to comfort you. to wash all your worries away.

as he makes a sharp turn, he momentarily stops the movement, halting to look around. he thinks he must look a little crazed, with the moonlight illuminating his eyes, but he couldn’t care less.

especially not when his gaze lands on a certain person, further down the street — small and alone.

your eyes meet his.

with the darkness of the street, it’s hard to make anything out, but the light of the lamppost helps. though even without it, satoru’s sure he’d know it was you, just from the sensation that unfurls in his chest as his gaze lands on your figure.

an audible sigh of immense relief falls from his lips, and his tense shoulders relax, eyes softening just a tad. he hears a similar noise coming from the phone in his grasp, and he assumes that means you recognize him too. not bothering to end the call, he puts it in his pocket, walking over to you with brisk steps.

you stumble towards him, yourself, the worried crease between your brows now smoothed away. the closer he gets, the faster you move, until you can see the blue of his eyes. two pocket-sized moons.

satoru swoops you in for a hug before either of you can say anything.

he cradles you close, awfully close, so close you can hear his heavy breathing against your ear. it tickles your neck, along with his soft hair, and you shiver. his fragrance envelops your senses, a blend between fresh laundry, strawberries and some expensive cologne. your favorite scent in the world.

and suddenly, the world is devoid of danger. nothing can get to you while satoru’s there. all that exists is you, and him, and the soft flicker of the moon.

satoru squeezes you tightly, ensuring himself over and over again that you’re safe. he might be squeezing you a little too tight, but he can’t bring himself to think about that just yet.

finally, that growing calamity inside his chest is satiated. winding down at the feeling of you pressed up against him, the indisputable proof that you’re okay. with you in his arms, satoru feels like everything is alright, again.

the fear inside his chest, so foreign it leaves him shaken to the very core, finally begins to dissipate too. he doesn’t think there’s anything that makes him feel quite as hopeless as the thought of not being there for you when you need him. he never wants to feel that fear again. it’s suffocating. it crushes his lungs.

all he can do is hold you close, his big palm smoothing down your hair, the back of your head, your spine. warm and comforting. keeping you steady against him. he can feel your heartbeat, rapid and anxious, so fast that his heart aches. satoru is eager to soothe you, eager to make it go away.

”i’m here, baby,” he breathes, rubbing his cheek against the side of your head. ”you’re safe now.”

the words are spoken softly, right by your ear, and you exhale a shaky breath. you’re bundling up his clothing with your fists, anchoring yourself to him. after a little while, you let go, opting to wrap your arms around his midriff instead. nuzzling into his broad chest, you try to blink away your tears and contain your sniffles.

you nod against him, and satoru kisses the crown of your head.

and, finally, his gaze strays. it falls farther down the street, until it lands on a certain man — shifting from one foot to another. watching you both in silence.

the calamity inside his chest rouses from its slumber, once more.

satoru makes sure to keep his hands on you, still rubbing your back with one steady palm cradling the back of your head. keeping your face hidden in his chest, safe and secure.

then he raises his head, back straight, full height on display as his eyes meet the stranger’s. he can tell they do, even with the distance, the darkness of the street.

and satoru knows he looks menacing. he knows the light of the lamppost illuminates his figure perfectly, framing his tall stature and broad shoulders. and he knows the moonlight caressing his skin illuminates his face, his cold eyes — blue and uncanny, glowing even brighter than the moon. staring daggers into the man’s soul. if looks could kill, there wouldn’t even be any remains left to find.

the man stiffens, visibly, and satoru delights in it. he doesn’t leave, though, and for a second satoru wonders if he’s really intoxicated enough to come closer —

but, sure enough, all he does is stagger a little. then he walks away, grumbling under his breath, hands in his pockets.

and satoru isn’t satisfied, with this conclusion. not in the slightest. he wants to run up to the man, wants to hold him up by the throat, wants to tell him off. because he has the nerve to terrorize someone like that, stalk them with intentions he knows can’t be anything but revolting. the nerve to do that to you, of all the people in the world —

satoru doesn’t know if he’s hated anyone quite as much.

and a part of him wants to make him cower. make him fear for his life, just to make sure he never does anything like this again. leave him with a fear so great it’ll linger for as long as he’s alive.

(and a more animalistic side of satoru, one he doesn’t want to acknowledge, wants to do things that are much, much worse.)

— but you come first. without question, and without exception. he refuses to leave you alone, and refuses to make you look at the man for even a second more.

so he’ll focus on you, entirely.

he can tell you’re still shaken up, heartbeat pulsating against him, little flutters of life prickling his skin. there’s a desperation in the way you hug his waist, like he could disappear at any moment. like he’ll slip away if you don’t keep him close. the sight tugs at satoru’s heartstrings.

his first priority is to soothe you, always and forever. so that’s exactly what he does.

satoru smiles. it’s small, in the wake of the situation, but awfully sincere. fingers reaching down to trace over your jaw, he gently urges you to look at him; when you do so, hesitant, he cups your cheek with his palm.

your teary eyes feel like daggers to his heart, an unmistakable proof of his failure. his failure to protect you, to keep you safe and happy. but at the same time, he’s glad, from the bottom of his heart — that you’d let him see you like this. even after everything.

you look very meek, blinking the tears away as you look into his eyes. they’re bright, and comforting. you wonder if he left the shades at home, if he rushed over here so hurriedly that he didn’t think to bring them with him. you’re happy, in any case — the effect they have on you is undeniable.

you can’t bring yourself to look away, consoled by the flickers of white inside his irises, like fluffy clouds in the blue sky. ever-lasting, never-changing.

satoru tilts his head, smile sweet and understanding. ”that was scary, hm?”

his voice is tender, somehow so mature. like he’s some older, wiser being, comforting a scared child. it’s so soothing, so very grounding.

squeezing your eyes shut, you can only bring yourself to nod, as you nuzzle back into his chest.

”you’re okay now, honey,” satoru coos, smoothing down your back as you sniffle. an immense softness seeps through his whisper. ”i’ll always be here to protect you.”

there’s a truth to the statement, heavy and pious. like an oath, a pledge, something for you to believe in unquestioningly. you allow yourself to soak in the words, knowing them to be true.

you’re safe, now. there’s nothing to be afraid of anymore. satoru’s here, and he’s hugging you, pressing kisses against your shoulder.

but you just can’t stop crying.

when you speak up, your voice is weak, barely above a whisper. close to breaking apart at the seams. too tired after everything to resist the guilt inside your veins, you sniffle, and part your lips.

”i’m sorry i yelled at you.”

satoru stills.

then, his gaze softens, considerably. he hears himself coo, softly, palm smoothing down the back of your head.

his sweet angel. apologizing to him, when he’s the one who started this whole mess. when you’re still so shaken up. because he let you leave the house angry, because he made you angry in the first place. because he didn’t see how important the discussion was to you.

(“you’re not even listening.”)

yeah. he wasn’t. he didn’t really want to.

an acute sense of shame. an intense guilt. that’s what he’s been trying to push down, all this time. that’s the unnamed something.

it’s hard for him. to be as sincere as you, as open with his feelings and emotions. as mature. because even in a situation like this, you can swallow your pride and frustration, and apologize. even when you aren’t in the wrong. you’re always the bigger person, always the one to give in first, because he’s too stubborn to do so himself.

next time, satoru pledges, he won’t let you. next time he’ll be the one to swallow his pride.

because, yes, being vulnerable and admitting that he was in the wrong makes him feel a little like he’s being skewered alive — but you’re important to him. he loves you. and he wants you to know how much he trusts you, how special you truly are.

if he can show you that, by being a little sincere, a little serious, then any discomfort he feels in the process is a small price to pay.

satoru’s lips meet the crown of your head, as he encircles your smaller frame, arms reaching around your neck to pull you close. he rests his jaw lightly on the top of your head, breathing in your scent. ”you have nothing to apologize for, baby.”

a pause lingers between the words he’s already said and the ones he yearns to say, but can’t seem to pull out from within his throat. it takes effort, to squeeze them out; but every time he replays your own apology in his mind, it gets a little easier. he squeezes you lightly before opening his mouth, as if to give him strenght.

“i’m sorry.”

you blink.

for once, satoru sounds sincere when he apologizes — almost painfully so. bordering on something you think may be nervosity. you try to look up, to catch a glimpse of his expression, but he keeps you hidden in the crook of his neck.

”i was being immature,” he continues, sighing. you don’t know if you’ve ever heard satoru sound so uncomfortable. ”you know how bad i am with this stuff. but i never want to — you know.”

he makes a gesture with one of his hands, as if that will say the words for him.

“— i didn’t mean to upset you. honestly.” satoru inhales the cold air, in hopes it’ll make him more honest. “you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

you listen. intently, not missing a word, not a single tilt of his voice. it all sounds so genuine, almost foreign on his tongue. satoru seems to be trying to find the right words, grumbling a little under his breath.

he’s cute, like this. kind of awkward, but that only makes him cuter. you nuzzle closer to him, comforted by his very existence.

”… i’ll work on it,” he whispers, at last. “i’ll listen to you. i promise. i really, really will.”

you think satoru’s voice wavers, just a little, when he says his final piece.

“so please don’t cry.”

this time, satoru doesn’t stop you when you attempt to lift your gaze, loosening his arms around you and raising his head from where it rests on top of yours.

your eyes meet. satoru is smiling, weakly. he tilts his head, looking at you with something you could only ever describe as love.

”okay?”

such a lovely smile. so painfully genuine. his eyes are on full display, shining in the dark of the night, like splotches of moonlight. like someone stole the moon down to earth, and carved out little pieces to put in his irises. an ethereal hue.

he’s so gorgeous. hair just a tad messy, tousled from all the running he did to get here. cheeks a little red from the cold. when he smiles, his eyes crinkle. but he looks almost pained.

(he was so, so worried.)

blinking away the tears clinging to your lashes, you simply stare, entirely mesmerized by the sight. satoru’s thumb goes to wipe at your glassy eyes, smoothing away the drops that threaten to fall. you want to engrave his expression into your memory, so you can never forget it. but it’s just a little too much.

so you hide in his chest, once more. the word that falls from your lips is tiny. “okay.”

satoru smiles, kissing the top of your head with a relieved exhale. bathing in your presence, still reeling from his show of vulnerability. he feels a little like he just cut himself open, let you peek inside his ribcage. the night air stings his skin.

but you’re so warm, hugging him tightly, breathing and heartbeat finally relaxed.

(he doesn’t mind it, not if it’s you — having you look inside his chest. if you asked, he’d let you build a shelter there. right between his fourth and fifth ribs.)

now that the words are out of his throat, they don’t burn at all. satoru feels a little silly, for being so scared to say them out loud. he knows you’d never use them against him.

all you do is snuggle closer, as if silently conveying your forgiveness.

you stand there for just a little while longer, wallowing in the tender atmosphere. finally, satoru makes a move to leave, and you begin to walk back home.

“sure you’re okay now, baby?”

you nod, exhaling a flurry breath. it turns into vapour in the cold of the air, drifting up and dissipating in the expanding starry sky. “yeah. thanks for coming so quickly.”

“of course,” satoru only says, choking back a yawn.

your hands are intertwined, and he’s halfheartedly swinging them back and forth. it soothes your anxiety, and satoru’s protective instincts. you know neither of you will slip away, like this.

you shiver a little, subconsciously inching closer to satoru to protect you from the harsh bite of the midnight breeze. he notices, giving you a glance and a tilt of his head. “you cold?”

“just a little,” you mutter, smiling weakly as you look up at him. ”i’m fine.”

satoru huffs. did you really think he’d be dissuaded by such a weak retort? there’s no way he’s letting you walk around all cold and shivering.

so you come to a standstill, as satoru begins to shrug off his coat. he refuses to let go of your hand for even a second, making the process slower than usual — your heart flutters a little, as his fingers curl around yours, delicately.

when he finally gets it off him, he wastes no time in draping it over your shoulders. it’s big on you, warm and soft, shielding you from the chilly air. satoru can’t help but giggle sheepishly, as he always does at the sight — you look so cute.

“c’mon. let’s go home,” he grins, ruffling your hair teasingly.

satoru doesn’t feel cold, not in the slightest, as he holds your hand tightly. just your presence is enough to warm his bones to the marrow.

the silence between you is comforting and soothing, as you continue to walk. hand in hand, admiring the starry sky. you’re both too tired to speak — but satoru does so, anyway.

“i meant it, y’know.” satoru sounds sleepy, but earnest. ”i really will work on it.”

he doesn’t look at you when he says it, yawning softly and stretching his free arm. gaze fixed on the morning star.

“oh.” you pause, squirming a little. sheepish. “thank you. i’m sorry that i — i mean.” a sigh. “i probably overreacted a little.”

satoru shakes his head, waving off your guilt. “nah. you’re right. i never want you to feel like i’m not taking you seriously.”

his gaze meets yours, tentatively. his eyes shine like wedding rings. “you mean a lot to me.”

the sincere words manifest themselves as a heavy pressure to your chest, closing in on your heart as if crushing it. it’s a pleasant sensation, though, overwhelming as it is. you’re a little scared that your knees will buckle if he keeps this up, but even if they do, you wouldn’t want him to stop — satoru’s love is terrifically overwhelming when there’s nothing to hide it, when it’s just love and nothing else.

but you’d never reject it. you’d let it crush you to death with a smile on your face.

all you can do is avert your gaze, afraid that you’ll fall into the blue sea of his eyes if you don’t. heavy thumps of blood resound in your ears as your heart beats, warmth spreading throughout your entire body.

“… you mean a lot to me, too.” you echo, holding his hand just a little tighter. warmth rises to your cheeks. “i just felt really frustrated, i guess. like you were looking down on me. i know you weren’t actually, though.”

satoru chews at the inside of his cheek, almost anxiously. “i know i can be a little much sometimes,” he says, tasting the words on his tongue. “and i appreciate you for putting up with that. i’m sorry i let it go too far. i’ll be more considerate.”

your heart stutters in your chest. you’re not sure what to say — the way he forms his words makes them feel so absolute. and you believe him.

“i’ll be more considerate, too,” you echo, looking down at the pavement. “i shouldn’t have blown up like that.” a pause. you mumble, quietly, a little embarrassed. “i shouldn’t have told you to go fuck yourself.”

satoru breathes out an amused huff, chuckling lightheartedly. his eyes carry a teasing glint when they meet yours. “i probably deserved that. no worries.”

“still,” you pout. satoru giggles.

“we’ll both work on it, then,” he hums, tilting his head to find your gaze. “right?”

you blink. a small smile breaks out across your face. “right.”

satoru swings your hands back and forth, looking awfully happy with himself. you’re proud of him. really.

“oh —“ he says, breaking the sleepy silence once again. “and i’ll stop leaving wrappers around, too.”

this time, you’re the one who huffs out an amused breath. “thank you,” you grin, looking up at him. he thinks the sight is terribly precious.

a yawn leaves your lips, drowsiness sneaking its way into your bloodstream. you’re not sure if it’s due to the dark, or if you’re just a tad exhausted after all the arguing and panicking.

satoru notices, and gets an idea.

“you tired, baby?” he coos, eyes teasing but soft around the edges. “d’you want a piggyback ride?”

when you give him a look, sleepy and kind of exasperated, satoru grins. you huff out an amused breath, just a tad embarrassed, but it only spurs him on.

so he crouches down, one knee meeting the pavement, letting your hand slip from his. you blink, tiredly, at the loss of contact. you can’t see his face, but you know he’s wearing that lovesick, smug little grin of his.

”c’mon. your big, strong boyfriend’ll carry you.”

satoru’s feeling playful, you can tell. that’s usually a bad sign — but you can’t deny that you’re tired. and the prospect of getting carried all the way home is eerily tempting.

your gaze falls on his back, and his broad shoulders. silently, you walk towards him, and wrap your arms around his neck. satoru holds you up by your thighs, and then stands up, jostling you a little; he does so without a hitch, and you’re reminded of how strong he really is. his grip is secure, and you trust him not to drop you, no matter what.

you let out a content sigh, basking in the chill of the midnight air as you nuzzle your cheek against his soft hair. satoru chuckles.

”my sleepy lil’ sweetheart,” he coos, voice a tad raspy. ”lucky thing you’ve got me, huh?”

there’s a softness to his voice, despite the teasing tilt obscuring it. you can only huff out a breath, somewhere between a chuckle and a scoff, and cling to him tighter.

satoru will get you home safe. he can be annoying, outright insufferable, and he can be bad with emotions — but you can always, always trust him on that.

so, with his coat shielding you from the chilly air, and his back warming you up as he carries you back to your apartment, you allow your eyes to flutter shut; enjoying the cozy feeling his presence brings you.

he’ll always be there when you need him.

#NOBODY LOOK AT MEEEEE i was having a gojo moment ok.#i just think hes. the perfect man. a silly goofy princess 98% of the time but when u need him to be there hes so comforting n secure.#i Need him.#also obsessed w the idea of gojo only calling u ’honey’ when hes being particularly sincere like that does smth to me man.#gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #gojo x reader

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hazyhae · 5 months

Text

strawberry cough | njm

strangers to fwb to lovers w/ plug!jaemin ft. bestie shotaro

summary: when your longtime bestie and plug moves out of town, he recommends one of his buddies to fill your weed needs. jaemin is glad to deliver that and maybe even more.

pt. 2 here

wc: 9.1k 18+ mdni

cw: weed/marijuana use, sex under the influence of weed, protected/unprotected penetrative sex, oral, 69, shotgunning, soft dom!jaemin, some angst & misunderstandings, jealous reader and jaemin, comforting from jaemin, jaemin calls reader baby & angel, gn!afab!reader, he has a pull out couch, strawberry cough is an actual weed strain i recommend it :)

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shotaro calls your name, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“his name is jaemin and we have the same supplier, I’ll even ask him to give you a discount!”

your best friend was moving to another town across the country for work and you can’t help but tear up at the thought of being so far from the sweet boy. you met back in your teens and had been glued at the hip since.

somewhere over the course of your friendship, shotaro started to dabble in weed, teaching you almost everything you know about the substance and eventually becoming your plug and smoking buddy. with shotaro gone, it might be difficult finding someone who not only you can trust but also knows your weed needs like the back of their hand.

you blink at the new name, trying to remember what he was talking about, and recall something along the lines of finding you a new plug.

“i’d definitely recommend him, i’d say he’s second best to me in town, and i can trust him around you,” shotaro jokes with you, keeping it lighthearted.

you know behind the joking, your friend is doing his best to look out for you despite going through a stressful time himself. you don’t want to make this move any harder for him than it already is, so you agree with a smile.

“i’ll give him a chance, just give me his number and we’ll go from there.”

he meets your smile with his own.

“trust me, he’ll take good care of you.”

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a couple of weeks after shotaro’s move, you decide its finally time to text your potential new plug. after finding his contact buried in your messages, you text jaemin, setting up a meeting time to pick up some goods, planning on buying an eighth and some gummies.

surprisingly, he asks if you want to check out his strains when you get there, wanting you to actually see all he has to offer before buying.

his customer service impresses you, realizing that you just assumed he would be as casual as shotaro and any other plug you’ve gone to. most of the time they would just ask you what you want, give you your order, and you’d be on your way. seeing the whole collection would definitely be good if you plan to go to him long-term.

while you’re a little hesitant at the thought of entering his apartment, you feel better given how shotaro talked your ear off on how good jaemin was, both as a friend and fellow plug.

a 20-minute walk from your place leads you to the address he sent, and you triple-check your phone to make sure you’re at the right apartment. when you finally ring the doorbell, you hear some rushed footsteps and the door opens to a sight you were not expecting.

your eyes move up to see a tall man with dark hair, broad shoulders, and one of the prettiest smiles you’ve ever seen.

“hi, you’re __? taro’s friend, right?”

you nod, exchanging introductions, and he gives you a tight handshake, not breaking eye contact.

“come on in! i’ve laid out everything so you can pick what you want. let me know if you have any questions.” he flashes another smile, and you can’t help but smile back at his welcoming attitude. besides shotaro, other plugs you have gone to never exchanged more than a few words with you, but they also didn’t have a smile like jaemin’s. actually, no one you’ve ever met had a smile like that.

you take a look around his apartment, noting how well kept it was, with minimal but tasteful decor. you were already a little nervous, but staring at the back of the attractive man leading you to his kitchen in his perfect apartment has your heart speeding up.

he shows you his collection, which you note to be on the same level as shotaro’s. you remember how your stash of your favorite strain ran out the week before, and knowing they have the same supplier, you look around his extensive collection for a familiar logo.

“do you have anymore strawberry cough? that’s my go-to.”

his expression falters slightly, but he recovers quickly and answers your question.

“i’m out of stock right now, but if you come back next week i should definitely have it in.”

nodding in understanding, you pick up a small pack of orange gummies, deciding on taking a break from smoking until your next visit. he packs up your gummies and leads you back to the entrance of his apartment, but when you reach into your bag to pull out your wallet he stops you.

“it’s on the house.” he insists, flashing you another one of his dazzling smiles. his smile makes it almost too hard to argue.

“oh no, i can’t do that to you,” you respond and resume your task of grabbing your wallet. you stop at the feeling of a warm hand on your shoulder.

“let’s just say it’s a first time customer deal, okay?” his strong gaze stills you.

“it’s not every day I get a customer as cute as you,” he says with a grin and a look in his eyes you can’t quite figure out. it does a good job of shutting you up, and you feel your face heat up. the place where his hand meets your shoulder feels like it’s burning.

you don’t know how to respond and he chuckles at your flustered expression. he places the gummies in your hands, and opens the door for you.

“make sure you come back next week, i’ll be waiting for your text!” you nod and quietly respond with your thanks and goodbye as you walk out into the hallway. he waits until you’re at the elevator, waving to you as the elevator doors close.

immediately you’re clutching your burning face in your hands, and his words replay in your head until you go to sleep that night.

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while the interaction with your new plug lingers in your mind for a while, you are quick to try and dismiss jaemin’s flirting as his way of charming customers and nothing more. shotaro did say he would ask him to give you a discount, so maybe it’s safe to assume that freebie was a favor for your mutual friend.

the next week, you’re surprised to see a text from jaemin letting you know that your favorite was in stock. you had debated in your mind on when to text him, but it’s a pleasant surprise that he texted you first. you agree to come after work, and your second visit to him is not as nerve-wracking as the first, though his closing remarks from the first visit still ring in your brain.

you wave those thoughts off again as he meets you at the door.

“hello my strawberry cough lover!” he greets you happily.

lover. you freeze at the word. you pause for a few seconds, jaemin confused at your lack of response when you realize he’s referring to your love for the product. you totally missed that. he was not calling you his lover.

“hi jaemin,” you sheepishly reply, internally scolding yourself for those thoughts.

you expect him to collect your payment, give you your bag, and send you on your way. but something you’ve begun to learn in the short time you’ve known him is that he is always full of surprises.

he invites you in and you see your order sitting on his kitchen table. your eyebrow raises when he pulls out another bag of what you recognize as strawberry cough from the label.

“do you have any plans today?” he asks.

it’s about 6pm and your only plans included smoking the goods you would be getting from jaemin, so nothing’s booked. “i’m free, what’s up?”

“it’s actually been a while since i’ve smoked or sold this strain, so i wanted to ask if you’d want to smoke with me? it’ll be on the house of course, but you totally don’t have to if you aren’t comfortable” he actually looks a little nervous asking, which you find endearing.

“sure, sounds fun,” you agree, once again taking into consideration shotaro’s ramblings about jaemin. you would never pass up the opportunity for free weed with a potential new friend. friend.

he brightens, sitting you down on his living room sofa and running to get his smoking materials together.

“pipe or joint?” he asks. you reply with the latter and he gets to rolling.

you watch as he expertly grinds and packs the green leaves into the wrapping paper, licking the edge to seal it and pinching the end shut.

you can’t deny that it’s probably one of the most attractive things you’ve ever seen a man do. you’ve seen many of your friends roll before, but something about the way jaemin uses his hands (and mouth) has you almost drooling.

he offers you the first hit, and you place the joint between your lips. he lights it as you inhale slightly, keeping his hand steady to catch any ash from falling on you.

while his earlier display had your body reacting, his gentlemanly behavior hit you right in the heart. you take two hits and hand it back to him, watching him take his own.

“how did you meet shotaro?” he asks, making conversation, and you are more than happy to explain how he accidentally hit you with a basketball during your second year of high school. you feel your body start to lighten and your mind fuzz.

“he couldn’t stop apologizing, going on and on about taking me to the hospital,” you’re trying to tell him through your giggles and before you know it, full laughter leaves you at the thought of your friend.

he looks at you with dazed eyes and a dopey smile, laughing along with you, starting to recount his own memories of your shared friend.

conversation seems to just flow naturally between the two of you. with each time the joint is passed back and forth, you learn another piece of information about the man in front if you, and vice versa. it’s comfortable.

at some point, you are both pretty settled into your highs, melted into the couch watching some random movie.

you look over at jaemin, and he looks more handsome and cozy than you remember a couple hours ago. he was within arms length, and if you wanted to, you could just reach over and-

“__, are you okay?” jaemin’s call of your name snaps you out of your thoughts.

embarrassed by your staring and what just went through your head, you try to keep it as cool as possible, but you know that your thoughts are threatening to seep out.

“yeah, i’m good, just thinking of heading out soon since it’s getting pretty late,” you assure him. at this point, a few hours had passed since you arrived and it was safe to say you needed to go home and cool your head before you said or did anything you’d regret.

he nods in understanding and tells you he will be right back. you’re not too sure what he’s up to, but he comes back quickly wearing a hoodie and helps you to your feet with a gentle hand. he picks up your order from the kitchen, and walking to the front door he grabs his keys and starts to put his shoes on.

“are you heading somewhere, too?” you ask, and he looks at you blankly.

“i’m walking you home?” he states as if it’s the most natural thing in the world. you told him somewhere along the line that you lived close by, but you didn’t expect this.

“jaemin, you don’t have to, it’s only 20 minutes,” you try to assure him.

you know that it isn’t the safest to walk by yourself at this time of the night, but you don’t want to trouble him.

“i do have to, and i want to.” you know he’s really made his mind up, seeing his serious expression, so you give up any further argument at his response.

your thoughts tell you he’s just being a good friend, but your heart hopes its something more.

the two of you walk back in a comfortable silence, jaemin with your order in hand. he walks you to the front of your apartment building, handing you your bag once you arrive.

“i had a lot of fun today, hope we can do this again sometime,” he says with that same look he had when he gave you your first freebies.

“same here, i think that would be really nice,” you respond, internally celebrating that he enjoyed your time together just as much as you did.

his normal dopey grin comes back at that, and he bids you a good night, waiting until you are inside your building to start his walk home.

only when you get back to your room do you realize you forgot to pay him.

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over the next few months, you find that jaemin never lets you pay. he’s officially become your plug and smoking buddy. you never stop protesting and offering to pay, but in that time you’ve also gotten to know how stubborn he is.

“friends get free shit.” he shrugs, as if it’s just common sense.

friends. the word stings a bit. you’ve come to learn that his charms extended so far beyond what was offered to customers. so much so that you’ve come to want more than friendship.

but again, you also don’t want to ruin what you’ve got growing and make him uncomfortable. this has to be a platonic experience for him, right?

that’s what you tell yourself, keeping your hopes at bay. you don’t want to risk anything.

on a particularly stressful work day, you come to pick up your usual order when he notices something is off. he frowns seeing you so tired and noticeably upset, immediately leading you inside with his hand gently resting on your back.

“what’s wrong?” he asks feeling your forehead for any sign of a fever. you’ve gotten a lot more comfortable with him over your time together, closing your eyes at his touch.

“nothing, just a tough day at work,” you murmur, just wanting to get your order and go home to lie in bed. a harsh argument with your manager today left you feeling frustration bubbling in your throat with no way to let it out.

“i know something that might help?” he offers. he brings you straight to your usual spot on the couch, and goes to the kitchen, returning with a familiar decorated bag.

“you didn’t,” gasping as he starts to lay its contents out on the table.

the bag included your go to order from your favorite fast food place, complete with a strawberry smoothie.

“i didn’t expect that it would be a perfect day to do this, but i’m glad i did.”

your eyes start to sting.

his kindness is coming at a moment you needed it most. he’s always been kind, and that has not changed at all since the day you met him. tears start to fall.

“wait, did i mess up your order??” his eyebrows furrow and he starts to get up, scanning the food on the table.

you shake your head, grabbing his arm to pull him back into sitting.

“no, just thank you, thank you so much jaemin.” you’re trying to compose yourself, but the same warm hand you’ve come to know and love starts to rub circles into your shoulder, making you cry more.

you lean into him, letting yourself let go of your frustrations of the day. jaemin encourages you to talk, wrapping his arm completely around you and whispering sweet affirmations in response to your worries.

after what feels like forever passes by, you find yourself relaxed in his arms with his head resting on yours.

“thank you and i’m sorry jaemin, i know that was a lot,” you say as you turn your head to look at him, realizing how close the two of you were.

he leans back, still with an arm around you. “i’m gonna pretend i only heard that first part. you’re never too much and you don’t have to be sorry about letting your emotions out. not with me.”

you really don’t understand how he’s telling you exactly what you need to hear.

at this point, the feeling slowly blooming over the past few months has really has made itself clearer than ever to you.

you like him. you like him so much.

you whisper your thanks again, and he shushes you, with his eyes moving down to your lips.

“you’re welcome, now let’s smoke a little?” he asks quietly, and you nod, figuring you would appreciate the relaxation of your body and hopefully, your heart as well.

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jaemin lets you use his facewash and a towel to freshen yourself up after crying, and has a pipe freshly packed for when you come back.

after your usual passing back and forth, you’re melted into the couch watching tv yet again. jaemin has his arm wrapped around you just similar to how he did at your earlier cry session, but this time his hand is around your waist, rubbing absentmindedly.

you don’t mind at all, pressed into his side as you both watch a cute cat cartoon. you look up at him, staring at his lips as thoughts start to sprout. you’ve noticed his obsession with wearing lip balm, and it’s really paid off. they look so soft and you can’t help but imagine what they’d feel like against yours.

he doesn’t lean away this time when he notices your gaze, looking into your eyes with his own hooded ones. you don’t know if it’s the weed giving your thoughts life, but your voice is leaving you before you know it.

“can i kiss you?”

you gasp after realizing what you’ve said, moving to get up, but his arm wraps tighter around you, stopping you from separating yourself from him. staring down at you with lidded eyes, he closes the distance between the two of you.

his lips are even softer than anything you’ve imagined.

his pecks turn into full kisses, and it’s only a matter of time before things turn more heated, jaemin slipping in his tongue to meet yours. the two of you kiss for what feels like forever, getting lost in the haze.

your mouth chases his as he starts to pull back, and he smiles against your lips. he fully pulls back look at you, and leans in to pepper soft kisses on your neck.

“you are toooo cute.” he mumbles against your neck, and his warm breath gives you goosebumps.

“do you want me?” he asks, and you are speechless. you’ve been wanting him, thinking of him while sober and not so sober. you’ve dreamed about this, yet now that he’s offering himself on a silver platter all you can do is nod. he slightly tightens his hold on your waist.

“words, baby.”

your embarrassed face presses into the top of his head as he continues to lay kisses down your throat. you can only hope that this is not just a really, really good dream.

“i want you, jaemin. so bad.”

immediately you are pushed onto your back on the couch, jaemin’s lips back on yours and your hands threading through his hair.

he slots himself in between your legs, grinding into you slowly as your hips jump up to meet his. he begins to kiss a trail from your throat down to your stomach, his warm hands finding their way under your shirt and sweatpants to meet your bare hips.

“can i take these off?” he punctuates his question with a snap of your waistband.

“please,” you reply, feeling yourself begin to ache, but suddenly jaemin remembers something.

you look at him confused as he gets up, reaching around to two handles at the bottom of the couch. he pulls the handles, and you are met with a whole new couch section.

“you’re telling me it was a pull-out couch this whole time??” you complain. your nights with him were comfortable, but the extra couch space to sprawl out changes everything.

“hey, it’s usually just me on this couch and i have more than enough room, so i kinda just forgot okay?” he pouts as he returns to his task, pulling your sweatpants off of you.

you start to laugh until you feel his warm breath on your underwear. the sight of him looking at you from between your legs is something straight out of a wet dream, and you’re pleading.

“please jaemin..”

“please what, angel?”

you clench at the new nickname. you crave nothing more than for him to bury himself between your legs.

“please touch me.”

he pushes your underwear aside, and dives right in. you gasp at the feeling, feeling the wind knocked out of you as your hands immediately meet his head.

he groans at the feeling of you alternating between pushing his head deeper and tugging at his hair. the vibrations send chills down your spine, and your moans increase in volume as he lays sloppy kisses over your bud, eventually sucking it between his soft lips.

if you thought his lips felt heavenly on yours earlier, his lips on your most intimate parts takes it to a higher dimension. at some point, he slips your underwear completely off, getting right back into action.

he doesn’t let up, slipping his middle and ring fingers into your entrance, slowly thrusting in and out.

you feel the tension build in your stomach, getting tighter and tighter until a curl of his fingers sends you over the edge with a strangled moan. he works you through your orgasm, laying a final kiss before making his way back up your body at the feeling of your hands pushing his head away from your core.

“are you okay, angel?” you look at his smiling face, his beautiful lips covered in a wet sheen. if this is a dream, you don’t ever want to wake up. something hard and hot at your thigh snaps you out of your admiration.

“i’m perfect, jaem, but how about you?” you ask as you catch your breath, shifting your thigh against his bulge.

this catches him off guard and a deep groan leaves him. it’s music to your ears and you want to hear it again and again.

“let me ride you jaemin. please,” you present the idea to him and he brightens up, only to pull a worried expression.

“are you sure it’s okay? do you have enough energy?” he’s still the same jaemin you’ve come to appreciate, always wanting you to be comfortable. you just want to make him feel good, too.

“of course jaemin, i wouldn’t offer if i didn’t want to.” the worried expression leaves at your words as he takes off his pants and underwear. you pause as he reaches under the couch and pulls out a condom that he rolls onto his aching member.

“is there any other surprises this couch has?” you ask jokingly.

he laughs and he helps you up into straddling him as he leans against the back of the couch.

you grind on him as he softly pecks at your neck, feeling the vibrations of his low groans on your skin. you raise yourself and begin to lower yourself onto him, hissing at the stretch of his cock inching into your entrance.

“fuck, so fucking tight,” he groans as he bottoms out inch by inch, helping by pushing his hips up to meet yours. you moan at the feeling, with no one you’ve ever hooked up with being as thick as jaemin.

you bounce slowly, and you build a steady rhythm as you shut your eyes at the almost euphoric feeling. the combination of his cock reaching far deep into you and the weed coursing through your system has your entire body tingling. you open your eyes to peek at jaemin, who looks to be going through the same thing.

his brows are furrowed, and he’s letting out delicious groans with each bounce. he slowly opens his eyes to meet yours, and like magnets your lips meet.

“you feel so good, angel, so fucking good,” he murmurs against your lips. his hands move from your hips to your ass and he plants his feet into the couch.

a harsh thrust has you clinging onto him for dear life as he starts to piston into you, chasing your highs.

the two of your moans fill his living room as he speeds up, hitting you deeper and deeper until you’re reaching another mind numbing orgasm. your pulsing sends jaemin over the edge, and he pulls out, pulling the condom off to finish himself over his own stomach.

you plop onto your side, too tired to hold yourself up as you detach yourself from jaemin. you feel the weight of the couch shift and start to drift off until jaemin shakes you gently.

“sleep over? you can borrow some clothes and we can finish that movie.” you’re way too tired to think about going home and don’t have to work until tomorrow afternoon, so you’re quick to mutter a sleepy “okay.”

he gives you a hoodie and some pajama pants, and he goes back to his room to change his own clothes.

coming back to the sight of you in his hoodie, jaemin smiles to himself before sliding in with you to retire for the night.

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you are surprised to see that first night did not sour your growing friendship at all. movie nights and order pickups still continued, but the two of you fall into a different kind of routine. weed was slowly pushed from the center relationship. yes, he would have you over to smoke you out, but more and more you find that you get lost in conversation or a show before you can even take one puff.

either way, half the time you ended up finding yourself under him, or him under you. afterwards he lets you sleep over or walks you home after a short nap, depending on the time and if you have work.

while you’re glad nothing got awkward, you couldn’t help but feel disappointment from your growing desire to be more to him. to have more of him. all of him.

it always was some combination of talking, eating, smoking, sleeping, or fucking with jaemin, but the two of you never talked about what your relationship was. you’ve become comfortable with your arrangement, being willing to put aside the pangs in your chest to continue these nights with him.

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“he got you, didn’t he..” shotaro teases over the video call, catching up on the past few months since his move. he zeroed in on the numerous times you mentioned his recommended plug, knowing the charming nature of his friend.

“why are you saying that like you knew it would happen??” you bite back at his teasing, and he quickly clarifies.

“no, no, i was genuinely just introducing him to you as a plug, but i’ve known the dude for a while. he’s a great host, a great friend and overall, he’s a reeaaally great guy. if something happens, i approve.”

he’s echoing a similar jaemin spiel to the ones he went on before you met the man, but you can’t help but agree now that you know him just as well.

“i know, i know, but let’s talk about something other than jaemin.” you haven’t talked to taro in a while, and you didn’t want to spend your whole call recalling how well jaemin’s treated you. the more you think about it, feelings of uncertainty in the nature of your relationship also follow.

“okay, well anyways, i’ve been into this really cool new strain. they call it strawberry shortcake and it’s just crazy, you need to try it.” before you can respond, taro cuts in.

“you might need to get it somewhere else, though, let me see if another of my buddies around there has it.” you haven’t gone to any other plugs since you met jaemin, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to start now.

“don’t you think i can just get it from jaemin? he’d probably want to try.” he gives you a perplexed stare in response.

“i don’t think so, jaemin hates strawberries. i’m surprised that hasn’t come up at all?” the news from taro leaves you shocked.

you recall how jaemin didn’t have your beloved strawberry cough in stock when you first met him, but since then he’s never ran out. he could have just said from the beginning that he doesn’t carry it in stock.

was he buying it just for you? is he smoking what you like even if he doesn’t? if he is, what does that mean? the thoughts threaten to send your mind spiraling.

you try to push them aside to continue your chat.

once you finish your conversation with your friend and head to bed, you fight against a hopeful little voice in your head telling you that jaemin might just feel the same way as you.

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the next day, you initiate plans with jaemin, wanting to finish up a show the two of you started. he lets you know you can come over that evening after some customers leave, assuring you they won’t take long.

you head over to his place, heading up the elevator. you’ve never seen any of jaemin’s neighbors before, so you’re surprised when the doors open to a gorgeous girl. her hair is a slight mess, but she works it.

she offers a polite “excuse me” before going into the elevator to head down. as you pass her, you get a whiff of something very familiar.

fresh herbs, florals, and something.. sweet? you ponder on the scent on the short walk down the hall to jaemin’s. he opens the door with the same smile as always, and leads you inside when you smell it.

the same scent you smelled at the elevator.

strawberry cough.

“did you get started without me?” you try to keep a light hearted tone, trying to pry as much as you can without giving your suspicisons away.

“just a bit, a customer came by earlier and wanted to try out some of my stash, but they didn’t want to smoke alone so i had a hit or two.” he smiles innocently. your eyes move to the tv to see the show you were planning to watch already playing on the screen. your heart sinks.

jaemin is a really good guy. he’s so special to you and you feel like slowly but surely you’ve become just as special to him.

when you sit down, you ask him to put on a different movie, wanting to continue the show another time. you can’t seem to focus and the joint passed to you tastes a little more bitter than usual. your thoughts fester.

jaemin is a really good guy, but he is good to everyone. he’s so special to you, but you’re not sure anymore if you have even began to brush the surface of being anything more than a good friend.

even if you’re sleeping together, you weren’t exclusive, and it’s not like you’re the only one he watches shows with or his only smoking buddy, either.

neither of you ever moved to define what went on between you two, and that little voice from last night is telling you now that maybe there just wasn’t anything in need of defining in the first place.

you finish the movie with minimal conversation and ask him to walk you home, citing your change in demeanor to a long, tiring day.

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wanting to sort out your feelings, you decide you need a break from your regular visits, but 1 week of excuses and avoiding his invitations quickly turns into 3.

“shit.” you check your weed jar to find your strawberry cough stash running dangerously low. gnawing at your lip, you still can’t find it in you to reach out to jaemin, even if its just as a customer.

you’ve wanted to go back every time he’s invited you, but since the day you concluded that nothing actually special was going on between you two, you don’t know if you can act normal. you don’t know if you could lay under him, looking into his deep brown eyes and not tell him you are probably madly in love with him.

you needed some time to cool your feelings off. you’d be back after you sort it out, and everything would hopefully go back to the way it was.

you head to work and put your thoughts aside for now, actually grateful that there’s a line of customers to keep your mind busy. when it slows down a bit, you see a familiar face of a boy with rose gold hair.

yangyang was a friend you met through shotaro, seeing him in a lot of blunt rotations you’ve been in at shotaro’s functions.

“hey, yangyang! how are you?” you ask cheerily.

he’a quick to return your greeting, always being a pretty chill person to see even if you don’t know each other too well.

“not too bad, just running some errands. heading to my plug later, how are you?”

a lightbulb turns on in your head at his plans. the answer to your dilemma has arrived.

“better now, could i ask you a favor actually?”

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jaemin hears his doorbell ring, but he’s slow to get the door. he knows it’s not you, so what’s the rush? he grabs his customer’s order from his kitchen table and heads over.

even though he knows it isn’t you, a part of him wishes it was. he hasn’t seen you in 3 weeks, and it’s driving him crazy. you’ve just rejected another invitation to finish up that show you started, and he’s lost count now of how many times that’s happened.

he knows you’re busy, but he can also sense that something is off. he’s been scouring his memories for anything he could have done to upset you for the past week or so, but he can’t come up with anything.

he tries to assure himself that it’s just a schedule thing, nothing personal. he’s gotten used to your smoking habits, and he knows you’ll be running low soon.

it’s only a matter of time until you need to come see him, right? he can only hope that you want to.

he opens his door to see yangyang, one of his regular customers. he’s expecting a quick transaction, not really in the mood for small talk.

“hey yangyang, everything’s here.” jaemin hands yangyang the bag.

“hey, thanks. really quick though, can i add on an eighth of strawberry cough if you have any?” yangyang asks.

“i might, you trying something new?” jaemin responds, interest piqued at the familiar strain.

“nah, picking up some for a friend,” yangyang responds. jaemin’s eyes narrow slightly.

yangyang usually gets the same few things in rotation every time, but he’s never once asked for strawberry cough. jaemin wouldn’t think anything of it usually, but he’s a little sensitive at the mention of your favorite.

“oh, do i know them? maybe a potential new customer?” jaemin tries to disguise his prying as a new opportunity for him as a plug, but he’s just hoping the bad feeling in his gut isn’t true.

“it’s for my friend ___, they asked me to pick some up. do you know them?” his heart drops at the mention of your name.

jaemin goes silent for a second.

“..gotcha, i think i’m actually out right now but i’ll let you know when i have some back in stock.” jaemin lies, knowing he has a couple bags left, but there’s a bitter feeling making his stomach turn.

yangyang shrugs and says he’ll let you know, and then he’s on his way.

shutting the door with a heavy sigh, he goes to lay on his couch, which he’s had in its full pulled out state since the first night you slept together.

he remembers your dazed, glossy eyes, soft lips, and the way you lean into him. he remembers the way you look when he’s got you pressed into his cushions.

he hasn’t heard your voice in so long, the sweet sound of your laugh. he misses you.

jaemin picks up his phone.

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when you get his call, you’re lying in bed already. it’s 7pm on a friday night, and you are spending it moping around instead of going out with your friends.

you miss jaemin, his apartment, his smile, the way he’d spoil you in so many ways, everything. you’d rather be laying on that couch right now, but you know you shouldn’t.

it’s just as you start to push jaemin out of your brain that your phone starts ringing with that familiar caller id. his picture pops up, a cute one you took of him in his bedroom after a smoke sesh awhile back.

caught off guard, you end up picking it up right away, and the voice you’ve missed so badly sends waves through the speakers.

“hi, angel, are you free this weekend?”

that nickname with his deep voice is already undoing any “cooling off” you’ve done in the time apart from him.

“i’m not sure yet, what’s up?“ your voice comes out clear despite your nerves.

“i know you’ve been busy, but i thought you might be running a little low on your stash, can i come by to drop some off?” he offers.

your first instinct is to make up an excuse because you honestly aren’t prepared to see him, but you feel like you’ve made enough excuses by now. you’ve missed the sound of his voice and hearing it over the phone is your breaking point.

as much as you’ve tried to push aside your growing feelings, it’s only fair to both you and him if you finally lay down your boundaries.

“actually jaem, if you’re still free tonight, can we finish that show?”

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even though he insisted on picking you up, you decide you need the 20 minute walk to jaemin’s to calm yourself. your head is full of so many “what if’s,” and in no time you find yourself in front of his building. you see a familiar head of dark hair standing outside.

“there you are, angel,” he says as soon as you are in his sight, and he brings you into a tight hug. you immediately relax into his hold, not realizing how much your body missed his familiar touch.

“i-“ you start, but he shushes you.

“it’s cold out here, let’s go upstairs.”

he takes you up to his apartment, and you’re happy to see it’s still as comfy as you remember. he’s got the heater on, and it feels good on your cold face. he seats you on his couch as he always has, rubbing your arms up and down to get rid of the last bit of outside chill.

“what have you been up to? it’s been so long since i’ve seen your face, baby.”

while it isn’t new for him to be this cuddly, it’s usually later into your nights together. you remind yourself your intention for tonight, and you decide you need to get this over with.

you separate yourself from him, putting some space between you.

“i’ve been okay, jaem. but i came because i really need to talk to you.” he waits for you to continue, anxiety growing at your somber expression.

“i don’t think i’ll be able to come around anymore.”

jaemin frowns deeply. “i mean, it’s already been a while since you were over, even if you’re busy i don’t mind waiting, it’s no pressure at all?”

“no, i don’t mean that. i just don’t think i can stay in this sort of relationship with you anymore.” you are dancing around what you want to say, but it’s just so hard to get it out.

his heart sinks.

“because there’s someone else around?” you jump at jaemin’s voice, which has lowered at your words.

“what?”

he runs his hand through his hair frustratedly. it’s the first time you’ve seen him this distressed.

“jaemin, where is that coming from??” he says nothing, and it seems like he’s also having a hard time figuring out what to say.

“look jaem, this isn’t on you or anyone else. i’m grateful for all you do for me, you’re a really good friend and i love the time we spend together.” you bring yourself to look him in the eye.

“but i feel like i’ve started to rely on you too much, to expect and want more. it’s a lot, too much even. i don’t want to get my hopes up about anything, so i need to back off a bit.”

“hopes up?” jaemin looks at you with an unreadable expression. “what do you mean by that?” his own hopes start to rise.

you look down at your hands, debating on what to say. but you owe him the truth, even if it changes things between the two of you. honesty and time could save the platonic bond, even if it severs any hope of a romantic one.

“i like you jaem, i like you a lot and i don’t think i can be just friends with you, at least for right now.”

the silence following your confession is deafening.

he calls your name gently, but you can’t bring yourself to look at him.

“___, my angel.” he repeats.

he takes your hand gently in his, and your eyes move from your hands to see him smiling wider than you’ve ever seen.

he closes the distance between you, wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing you deeply. his warm soft lips fit perfectly with yours and you melt into him, your hands threading through his hair. he kisses you like a starved man, and he pulls you closer and tighter.

you’re breathless when he pulls away after a while, his lips red and starting to swell.

“you have no idea how much i’ve wanted to hear that.” his eyes are piercing through you.

“i like you, too, and i don’t want to just be your friend. i’m sorry you had to say it first.” you want to cry hearing his confession, but instead wrap your arms around his neck and bring him back into a heated kiss.

you have to be dreaming. you’ve only thought about putting a stop to your feelings for jaemin for almost a month now, but the feeling of this man being in your arms knowing he feels the same way now is so surreal.

jaemin pushes you gently to rest on your back, his hand moving down as his lips stay glued to yours. he feels the same way. he likes you.

“angel, let me take care of you, please.” jaemin’s gaze holds so much intensity.

“i’m yours, jaemin.”

hearing that, he dives right back into your lips with a fervor even greater than earlier, his hands tugging at your pants and underwear to remove them.

he’s always been so intentional with his touches, always seeming to know the perfect way to touch you. your words, however, activate a desperation of wanting to feel more of you and it translates into his rushed, almost clumsy hands.

he cups your heat with one hand as the other sneaks under your shirt to knead at your chest.

you are getting wetter by the second, and jaemin pushes one finger into you. your lips leave his as you moan loudly at the intrusion, and his head moves down to meet his hand at your core.

“jaemin, wait.” he pauses.

“i want you to feel good, too.” jaemin chuckles.

“don’t mind me baby, there’s no greater pleasure for me than making you feel good.”

his words have you wanting to press his skillful mouth onto you as soon as possible, but you stop yourself. “let’s do it together then.”

his eyes almost bulge out of his head at the idea, and the idea goes straight to his cock. he can already feel himself pulsing with need.

“69?? you are too fucking good to me, angel.” and immediately he has you flipped over, with your heat hovering over his face and his cock in your hands.

he starts to lick at you, straining his neck up while you get to work taking him into your mouth. you get into a good rhythm, feeling his groans on your core.

you feel him smile as he harshly tugs your hips down onto his face. you gasp, trying go back into hovering. jaemin’s strong hold doesn’t let you move.

“don’t hover, sit on my face, please.” he goes in again on you, alternating between slurping loudly and swiping his tongue all over.

your legs give out at this and he lets out a deep groan at the feeling of you pressed into him. you give a hard suck on his tip and take him back into your mouth. the vibration from your moans has him seeing stars.

“oh my god,” he mumbles into your core. he separates himself from you for a moment.

“baby, baby stop, sit up, angel.” he pulls you off of him.

“that pretty mouth feels too good, gonna cum too soon,” he pants. “i’ve got you, just sit pretty and leave it to me okay?”

you want to keep going, but jaemin’s back at your entrance like a madman, pulling you to sit on him completely again. his tongue reaches deep into you. he’s moving your hips back and forth, and his chin digs into your bud.

the sudden onslaught of pleasure is too much, and he has you cumming on his face with a loud cry. he helps you ride through your orgasm and you detach yourself from him as he catches his breath.

when he rises, he moves to pull a box from under the couch, but you stop him.

“no, no, please just give it to me, i want to feel all of you.” he looks at you concerned.

“i’m on the pill and i haven’t slept with anyone else since we started fucking, so please just do it.”

his heart is absolutely swooning at your pleading for his dick and your revelation that you’ve been his since the beginning. he stations himself between your legs.

“you’ve got it, baby, you’re my only one, too.” with that, he inserts himself into you, his tip beginning that delicious stretch.

it’s been a while since you’ve fucked him, and jaemin takes his time inch by inch despite wanting nothing more than to ram into you in one go.

“you’re mine, angel, i like you so much and i want you all for myself.”

he groans as he bottoms out, letting you adjust to him, but he can feel himself throbbing inside of you.

“please move, jaemin, i need it so bad.” he’s more than happy to oblige, starting to speed up his thrusts gradually until he’s fully thrusting in and out.

he reaches so fully deep into you, and he pulls out all the way to his tip before snapping his hips into you again.

“you’re so perfect. my angel, my baby, my ___.” he’s whispering sugary sweet words into your ear, and that in combination with his thrusts make your head start to float as your eyes roll back. this feeling is better than any high weed could give you.

“jaemin, jaemin, jaemin,” your cries of his name only encourage him to go faster, hit deeper. his hand presses into your lower stomach, and his fingers rub circles into your bud.

“cum for me, you can do it, just let go.” and you do just that, your back arching off the couch. jaemin pulls out and immediately plunges his fingers back into you to ride out your orgasm.

at this point, his cock is leaking, desperate and throbbing with the need to cum, but he wants you in one more way tonight.

he flips you over onto your stomach, pulling your hips up and teasing your slit with the head of his cock. he plunges back in with a deep groan and begins fucking into you.

your head is clouded from your orgasms and the feeling of overstimulation, and you almost dont feel him reach for something. you hear the clicking of a lighter.

looking behind you, you see jaemin lighting a pipe, all while fucking into you still. he takes a deep inhale, holding it in before blowing it out away from you.

if you had this view on video, you’d be able to get off to it anytime, anywhere. you clench around him tightly as you see him blow out the smoke. your eyes are glued to him.

he notices your gaze. “do you want some, pretty baby?”

you nod hurriedly, turning your head back front as his thrusts push you up the couch. he takes another hit.

a strong hand reaches around to pull you so that your back is pressed against his front. he turns your face to him as he blows smoke into your open mouth. you clench even tighter, and he closes the distance and kisses you sloppily. the smoke is seeping out past both of your mouths, filling the room.

“you’re mine. i’m yours, only yours.” he growls into your ear.

he fucks into you, holding you around your mid section with both of you on your knees. he lets go to hold onto your hips and you slump back onto the couch, unable to hold yourself up. he speeds up, thrusts turning sloppier by the second.

“f-fuck, angel. i’m so close. let me fill you up, i’ll give it to you so good.”

you clench at the promises he’s moaning out loud and he gets closer and closer to his peak. his thrusts are all over the place, desperate to finish as you lock your ankles around his to start rocking your hips back onto his.

“could treat you ten times better than anyone else. no one else for me. you’re the only one i’d ever want or need, only you.”

his sugary words are spilling out and the feeling is all too much as his hips stutter, cumming inside you with a deep, strangled groan. you milk him dry as he empties himself into you, toppling over to lie next to you.

the two of you lie side by side, trying to catch your breath, and he pulls you close to him.

you are emotionally and physically exhausted, but jaemin gets up after a few minutes, coming back with a towel and hoodie.

he cleans you up and helps you to your feet to use the restroom.

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when you settle back into the couch after getting ready for bed, he puts on your show as you cuddle into his side. everything feels so familiar, yet so different without the feelings of uncertainty. you look up at him.

“when were you going to tell me you hated strawberries?” your question catches him off guard.

“who said that??” he chuckles nervously, but he knows he’s been caught and there’s no arguing.

“no seriously, you didn’t have to force yourself or buy that strawberry cough just for me.” you do feel a little bad that he was, even if it was his own free will.

he pauses.

“i just needed something to keep you coming back, aside from my pull out couch of course,” he jokes, wiggling his eyebrows. but his words hold truth.

“you should’ve known a month in that you didn’t need strawberry cough to keep me coming back,” you let out a little laugh at how cute he was being.

“imagine the betrayal i felt knowing that you were going to someone else for it though??”

you look at him confused. gears click in your brain when you remember the rose-haired friend you'd talked to earlier that day.

“oh, you know yangyang?” it makes sense given jaemin, shotaro, and yangyang share many mutual friends.

“yes i know the asshole. gonna monopolize it so you don’t ever cheat on me again.” he pouts.

“yes, yes, boyfriends get official exclusive plug rights,” you joke. “as long as you’re not smoking my strawberry cough with anyone else.”

“i won’t even sell it to anyone anymore, it’s reserved for my angel only. and boyfriend?” he smiles and kisses you gently. “i like the sound of that.”

after a few more kisses, you turn your attention back to the show, but jaemin pulls his pipe back out.

“does that mean we can smoke something not strawberry flavored tonight?” he asks, looking relieved.

you laugh and give him the OK, and he’s more than happy to pull out a whole array of different strains he’s been wanting to try with you. you sweat at the variety, but you know you have more than enough time to try them all now that you’re sure he’s yours, and you’re his.

end.

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if you got this far, thank you so much for reading! this is my first full length fic and i hope to write more in the future <3 i hope u enjoyed! shares and feedback are appreciated -coco :)

#nct smut #nct dream smut #jaemin smut #nct dream x reader #nct x reader #jaemin x reader #stoner!nct #coco writes

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aidaronan · 1 year

Text

The years go by. The retail jobs that Steve thinks are temporary keep piling up, but he has no idea what else to do with his life so he just keeps on keeping on.

Until a large tree falls on the lawn of the little house he managed to buy and he gets the quote on removal and the number literally hurts his soul.

He buys a small chainsaw instead. Over the course of a few weeks, he gets most of the branches cut up. He collects some large rocks from down by the quarry and digs out a fire pit in his backyard. On his days off, his friends come over and they sit out back and have a few beers. The pile of wood dwindles. The giant trunk is another story though. His chainsaw isn't big enough for it. Burning it would take forever, and Steve's terrified he'd disappoint Smoky the Bear. He's at a loss.

Until he sees another giant trunk in someone's yard carved into a bear.

He knows what to do then. Not a bear, but something else. Through trial and error, the trunk becomes the rough shape of a woman, the remnants of the branches like a crown on her head. It's not as amazing as the bear he saw, but it's his. He finds he loves the smell of sawdust and the feeling of creating something.

Just like that, Steve realizes what he wants to do. It takes several months and a lot of yard sales, but he scrounges up the tools he needs to start woodworking. He learns to measure twice and cut once. He makes tables and chairs and carves them with art and designs that get better and better the more he learns. Shockingly, people actually buy his pieces.

Even more shocking comes the realization that he's making enough money to do it full time. He puts in his two weeks notice at Melvald's and hands in his assistant manager badge.

He's not sure he's happy, but he is content. It feels good to work hard and actually have things to show for it. It also feels good to work muscles he hasn't used since high school. He carries on for a few years like that, creating and learning and creating some more. Then Eddie Munson blows back into town. Invited back so Hawkins can have their most famous alumnus sing the national anthem at homecoming. Steve's honestly surprised he shows at all. "Can't believe you didn't tell them kiss your hairy ass," Steve says. Because of course Eddie ends up around his fire pit, sipping on Steve's cheap beer like he doesn't have three Grammy awards on his mantel. The years fall away with each drink, reminding Steve of just how much it had hurt when Eddie left. He'd wanted Eddie so bad back then, more than he'd ever wanted anyone. He can feel the echoes of that deep ache across time.

"Pfft. Don't you know all famous people wax our asses now? All the rage in LA." Eddie cuts a look at him and smirks when Steve rolls his eyes, grateful for the lighthearted moment to snap him out of his maudlin nostalgia. "Really though I thought about it, but then I thought it would be way funnier to donate a metric fuckton of money to Hawkins High with the stipulation that it go to the theater and band programs. Kind of bummed they couldn't honor my other request though."

"Which was?"

"My old Hellfire throne. I miss her, but apparently she's not around anymore. Something about water damage."

"Oh yeah. Water main busted a few years back and flooded the theater. I remember that." "Yeah. Had to settle for the promise they'd make a game lounge and stock it with all the supplies a budding young nerd needs."

"That's really nice, Eds."

Eddie shrugs. "I've been known to be nice on occasion. You'll come to homecoming, right? Moral support?"

Steve hasn't been to homecoming in years because he sees the other people who stayed in town all the time, and he has no interest in seeing the people who didn't. He can only answer the same questions so many times. Oh, I'm doing woodwork now. Yep, I still live right here. Nope, still not married, no kids.

He goes though, and he answers the uncomfortable questions. Because Eddie asked him to. Because no matter how long it's been, Steve can't deny that some part of him still...

He says goodbye after, and Eddie leaves again, and Steve tries not to think about that too much in the following days.

He's halfway into the project before he realizes what he's building. He'd seen Eddie's throne quite a few times back when. What he doesn't have memories of, he makes up. He adds his own touches too, making it a throne fit for a rock star, a nerd, a friend.

He carves ornate patterns, he creates scenes of dragons being beaten back by a man with a guitar, crowds of people that could be knights or concertgoers.

It's his favorite piece he's ever done, and his hands are shaking when he dials Eddie's number. He gets an answering machine and stumbles through a message.

"I made you something. I guess it's kind of silly, but it's here in Hawkins if you want it. Or I'm sure you can afford the shipping if you don't want to come. Just, I made you a chair. It's more of a... Well, you'll see. Unless you don't want to... It's Steve by the way." He hangs up before he can embarrass himself even more.

Eddie doesn't call him back. One day passes and then another. Steve tries not to let it get to him. He works on orders and new projects. He enjoys his little backyard oasis. He rents a few movies and thinks they're okay.

He's debarking some wood in his driveway when the rental car pulls up, Eddie stepping out in ripped jeans and an old Metallica tee. "Hi again, Stevie."

"Oh." Steve clears his throat. "The thing's in the garage. I'll..."

Eddie doesn't say anything for a long time, circling the throne, running his tattooed fingers over each little detail.

"You made this whole thing?"

"I did."

"For me?" Eddie looks at him then, one hand still touching the wood like he doesn't want to let go. Even under the harsh lights of the garage, his eyes are such a warm shade of brown that Steve forgets to breathe.

He nods. "For you."

"Why?"

There are a hundred answers Steve could give, but he spent so long not knowing who he was or who he wanted to be. Too long. "Because you'll always be the one that got away. Because some part of me will always want to make you smile no matter how long it's been."

Eddie falls into the throne like he just got the wind knocked out of him.

"You don't have to respond to that," Steve says. "You can just say thank you and take the chair."

"I can." Eddie blows out a breath. "But that would be incredibly stupid considering half my early ballads are about you."

"What?" Unfair. Steve doesn't have a chair to fall into.

"Oh sure, I changed the hes to shes for a while there because..." Eddie waves his hand. "But they're about you, Steve. God, I should've asked you out. I just thought..."

Hearing those words is a lot like seeing that carved bear all over again, something clicking into place that wasn't quite right before.

"Go out with me now then," Steve says. "Or stay in. I've got a frozen lasagna and I rented Contact."

"Steve Harrington? Asking Eddie 'the Freak' Munson on a date? Did hell freeze over?"

"Pfft." Steve takes a step closer toward what he wants most. "Hell froze over in 1986, Eddie. You were there."

Five months and a lot of long distance phone bills later, Steve opens Harrington Woodworking in Los Angeles. That same day, Eddie takes photos for Rolling Stone posing in an ornate throne in his living room. He tells the reporter exactly who made it and what he means. At concerts, he starts singing those ballads the way he always wanted to. More often than not, Steve stands in the wings singing along.

#steddie #fanfic #mine #woodworker steve #rock star eddie #i meant for this to be a drabble but 😂

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theminecraftbee · 3 months

Text

so, you've been considering getting into hermitcraft.

that's great! welcome! we are an extremely enthusiastic fandom, i admit, but we are very happy to have you watching the hermits! however, with over a decade of existence and twenty-seven current hermits, it can feel very intimidating to get into hermitcraft. luckily, as of the time of this posting--january 31st, 2024--it's also the BEST time to get into hermitcraft, because a new season starts on february 3rd! (and if you're reading this later: don't worry. this is ALSO the best time to get into hermitcraft. don't worry about it i'll get into that.)

the shortest version of this advice is: start wherever you want, with whoever you want. it doesn't matter, you can catch up.

still, it can seem like a lot. so, from someone who's been around since mid season seven, here is a more detailed guide on how to start watching hermitcraft!

what is hermitcraft?

hermitcraft is a collection of people who all play on the same survival multiplayer minecraft server. that server is a mostly vanilla minecraft server; i don't really call hermitcraft "vanilla" anymore, as they rely on a number of largely cosmetic mods, but the things they do on hermitcraft should, broadly, all be possible in vanilla minecraft, and the server still "feels" vanilla, so. vanilla minecraft. they do this in "seasons", which are periods of time between a year and two years, after which they reset and start on a fresh server.

in comparison to something like qsmp or even the life series, hermitcraft leans heavily on the "building cool things and hanging out" side of the spectrum as opposed to the roleplay side. however, at least once a season the hermits like to do a big storyline; sometimes, it's more frequent. many of the storylines are more natural escalations of things like server prank wars or a failing server economy, though, as opposed to things that are clearly in-universe roleplaying. don't worry, though; you'll know a hermitcraft storyline when you see it. by everyone's bad acting. also, by rendog putting on a silly accent.

if your only impression of hermitcraft has been from the fandom, you... probably have a somewhat mistaken impression. my bad. in my defense, i am a horror writer at heart, and in the fandom's defense, a LOT of crossover has happened with the life series fandom, which leads to both sort of leaking into each other. in general, expect things to be on the lighthearted goofy shenanigans side with very few exceptions when you're actually watching hermitcraft, despite the way the fandom tends to be.

where is hermitcraft?

broadly, youtube! hermitcraft is an almost entirely video series, and if you want to watch a hermitcrafter, you will almost certainly need to watch them on youtube. there are only very rarely streamed hermitcraft events, and these are normally announced ahead of time.

what if i prefer twitch?

skip the rest of this and just watch joe hills. i promise i'm not saying that because i'm a joe hills guy; i'm saying it because he's the only hermit that consistently streams from hermitcraft. impulse, tango, cleo, pearl, xisuma, iskall, and hypno all also appear to stream fairly regularly, but it's not always from hermitcraft.

where should i start?

now, that's the real question, isn't it? my answer is simple: start Now. if you're reading this as i post it, that means start this saturday on everyone's episode one. if you're reading this long after i post it, though, just... go ahead and start with whoever you want to watch's latest episode! the nice thing about hermitcraft is that you can GENERALLY jump in wherever you want.

but what about old seasons?

you do not need to watch older seasons of hermitcraft. unless you want to, of course; the world is your oyster and they are very good! however, there's also a LOT of old hermitcraft, and if you want to join in with what hermitcraft is doing now, old seasons aren't necessary. very little carries over from season to season. while sometimes old "lore" or recurring bits can carry references over, and the relationships between hermits will often carry over to some extent (if often not in the same patterns), it is never to an extent that you need the old seasons for context. each season is a clean new slate, and where "lore" carries over, the relevant hermit will almost always explain it to you.

what about helsknight/evil x/hotguy/boatem/convex/some other thing i've been hearing about?

i promise, if they are relevant to this season, they will explain it to you in the relevant episode and/or it will be easy enough to pick up. do not worry about it. each season is a soft reset for a reason, and one of those reasons is to make it easier on new viewers! and if you're here because you WANTED one of those specific things... ask an older fan! they'll be able to direct you to the places they're from.

do i need to watch all the hermits?

absolutely not! in fact, i strongly recommend you don't. there are going to be... hold on let me count... twenty-seven hermits? (i am bad at counting don't quote me on this) in this season alone. keeping up with all those videos is too much for basically anyone! instead, pick a few hermits that you like best, and if you want to keep up with everyone else, go to the hermitcraft recap youtube channel and watch that! it is a vital hermitcraft resource where pixlriffs, zloyxp, and lyarrah all watch every single hermit so that we don't have to. honor their sacrifice and don't try to watch everyone.

but how do i pick someone?

few ways! there exist, if you google, plenty of "choosing your hermit pov" quizzes; if you head over to the hermitcraft subreddit, for example, i'll be SHOCKED if they don't have one, and if you go over to the recap channel, they had one of those for a while too. this is the starting place for many people.

another way is to watch the recap and choose whoever's project interests you most. for early episodes, this may be hard, but since hermits tend to go hard for their first episode, you'll normally at least be able to pick up a sense of pace and build style.

just watching whoever it is your friends are obsessed with is also a tried and true method of finding your first hermit; frequently, like with the recap, this is a good method for then figuring out whose style you like best, and switching to them, if you don't end up clicking with the same people your friends click with.

finally, you can just... click a random hermit's channel! try a few out! maybe you heard about decked out and want to watch tango; maybe there's a storyline you want to start watching because the dash has been rambling about it; maybe you just want to know who this grain character is. clicking around until you find the guy whose editing you click with is a totally valid strategy!

that sounds hard. just pick someone for me.

if you like well-edited shenanigans: grian or mumbo jumbo. (these are also good starter hermits in general, i've found; if you aren't sure where else to start, start with one of them.)

if you like long background noise-type videos: docm77

if you like minigames: tangotek.

if you like a chill video: xbcrafted or, if the texture pack gets you, vintagebeef.

if you like storylines: rendog or grian, again. (i was trying not to double-up, but if you're here from an rp-heavy server, grian remains a great entry point in that regards.)

if you like to see something new and bizarre: zedaph if you prefer highly-edited videos, joe hills if you prefer lightly edited videos.

if you want the best building on hermitcraft: pearlescentmoon or bdoubleo100, special mention to goodtimeswithscar.

if you want someone as new as you: i'll come back and edit in whoever the new hermits are once we know! but them.

if you just want one of my favorites: zombiecleo or iskall85.

thank you! what if i DO want to know what the fandom is always on about?

that, i'm afraid, i don't know how to help you with. you'll just have to watch hermitcraft from here--and maybe read some of the fanworks that have intrigued you--and find out for yourself!

good luck out there, and i hope this has helped someone!

#mcyt #hermitcraft #long post #...a tag i normally resolutely don't use but i don't want this under a cut and it IS very long #ANYWAY HERE IT IS MY THEORETICAL GUIDE!

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xythlia · 6 months

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𓏲 ࣪₊➷ CAN I GET A KISS, CAN YOU MAKE IT LAST FOREVER?

› thinking about being the cute younger teacher & how much of a determined freak satoru would become learning ur a virgin idk he's ruining the idea of any other man for u babe

› satoru x f!reader

› word count : 2.5k+

warnings : loss of virginity, porn with a dash of plot if u squint, unprotected sex, cervix fucking, fingering, biting/hickies, alcohol consumption, praise, use of pretty girl/baby, not edited I needed to get this out of me like a possession victim getting an exorcism

You decided Satoru Gojo was a pervert.

It was made all the more embarrassing by the fact that you were a virgin, wholly inexperienced and totally at the mercy of his unending teasing. The little jabs he'd manage to work into conversation, or that he'd say in passing with that particularly cheery tone. It always made your chest burn hot with a strange mixture of desire and discomfort.

You should've never said yes to going out with the other instructors for a drink that night. Should've said something, anything when Ieiri burst out with "holy shit, you are a virgin aren't you?" but instead you'd drunkenly shied away, eyes wobbly and looking anywhere but at your fellow teachers.

It was all the confirmation he needed.

The days that followed made you think surely you should schedule a check up, Saturo without a doubt had a negative impact on the levels of cortisol in your brain but at the same time when you'd wearily collapse in bed at night he was still on your mind. Those whispered, teasing jokes about your lack of experience stuck on loop in your brain paired with thoughts of how experienced he must be in contrast.

Would he work your body over in ways that would make you sob into your pillow? The loose image of it alone was enough to leave you with a sore clit as your eyes drifted closed, your fingers still slick as his voice curled around your brain to drag you off into dreams so depraved they made you sweat getting dressed in the morning, feeling embarrassed about having to look him in the face during the day.

A part of you wished, again, that you'd have said no to getting another drink with him. Shouldn't have giggled like a school girl at the suggestion of coming back home with him, shouldn't have so brazenly straddled his lap while the faint aftertaste of gin clung to your lips as his tongue mapped your own in a sloppy, burning kiss.

The way his body was still so completely relaxed beneath your tense one intimidated you. You felt embarrassed at the idea of how awkward and jerky your movements must be, sure you'd kiss before but never with someone who so clearly wanted to devour you whole. It was comforting though that his hands didn't stray from your waist, as if he was acutely aware of your anxiety. Although the way his lithe fingers drew circles against your skin, slipped beneath your shirt, and dug into your flesh still made your hands shake against his chest.

"Sa-" you started to say his name but the breath was snatched from your lungs in another heated kiss, the way he overrode each of your senses.

Sliding his tongue past your lips again, somehow in the same lighthearted way he'd teased you. When his hands drifted down, out from your shirt, under your skirt to trace the hem of your panties against your ass you froze.

Without you needing to say anything he pulled back, and a fresh tidal wave of anxiety beat against your mind. You know he's hard, can feel it pressing against you through your clothes. He was the first man to hold you, touch you, make you feel like you'd swallowed hot embers that now seared low in your tummy.

You suddenly felt burdensome, ridiculous for instigating something you weren't sure you could finish. Guilt also mingled in your head, it was hardly fair to go through all this set up just to back out at the last second. Would he be upset with you?

You caught your bottom lip in your teeth, eyes searching his catastrophic blue ones for signs of upset. But none existed there, only meeting your gaze plainly and with an air of calm, like he knew this was going to happen.

Shyly you averted your eyes, holding contact with him for too long made your liquor buzzed brain feel like static shocks were rolling over it. Your breathing hitched as you whispered in the half dark.

"You... you can touch me."

The silence was deafening, making your palms grow damp.

You caught his blue eyes widening in faux shock, a lazy grin dancing across his lips. "Really? Can I touch you there?"

Your ears burned in humiliation as you pouted at him. "Don't say it like that!"

Your indignation was cut off into a small yelp as he manhandled you into sitting with your back pressed against his chest. Your head spun as he wiggled your panties down, inch by inch, fingers leaving scorched trails on your thighs. His arm came to rest against your tummy, one hand still at your thigh as he spread your legs with his.

His breath fanning against the back of your neck made gooseflesh rise across your arms.

"W-wait," you stammered.

He hummed over your shoulder, his voice dripping with arousal. "What now, hm?"

It would make you more nervous if you couldn't hear the smile in his voice.

"Wanna take care of you," you say leaning your head back so you could see more of his face. Satorus eyes were full of amusement.

"Do you know how to, pretty girl?" His hand caressed the underside of your jaw, thumb swiping across your lips.

"Sorta," you mumbled, chest feeling fuzzy at the thought, vaguely recalling porn you'd watched forever ago.

"Sorta?" He snickered. "What happens if you choke huh?"

Your mind went as fuzzy as your chest, something told you hes hardly the type to exaggerate his size. That and you could feel his erection pressing into your back.

"Pinky promise I won't choke," you whisper, making yourself breathless already imagining what he'd look like in your hands.

"Don't get ahead of yourself," he spoke against the shell of your ear sending shivers down your spine. "There's plenty of time."

His words were punctuated by feather light swipes of his index against your inner thigh, making you jump in his hold. Your breathing sped up, eyes fluttering closed and you gasped as his fingertips ghosted through your slick arousal, spreading your folds before concentrating on your clit.

It felt like a live wire pressed against you, tearing a sharp gasp from your lungs as you fought the urge to snap your legs closed. Meek whimpers rose in your throat as he barely circled around your clit, pressing soft kisses to your temple as your back arched ever so slightly away from his chest.

"Feels good?" He hummed against your skin.

You couldn't articulate words to answer with because at the same time he slipped his index inside you, so slowly you could feel his knuckles sliding past the ring of muscle as your body eagerly accepted the intrusion.

If you had the wherewithal you might have been embarrassed at how badly your legs shook with just that little taste, but thanks to his ministrations there was no room inside your head for anything except how good he made you feel. Gingerly he started stroking against your slick walls, clearly enjoying the way you squirmed on his lap and inadvertently pressed your ass down firmly against his painfully hard erection.

A breathy laugh came from above your head as he slid in the second finger, your hazy eyes seeing hungry amusement dancing in his own. Your lips parted, one hand coming to clutch his forearm in a tight grip but he never slowed the scissoring of his fingers inside you.

"Can't use your words?," he teased.

"Want more," you gasped out as your hips began rolling in fits and starts, awkwardly trying to chase more stimulation from him.

"Lemme take care of you, yeah?" He said as he pulled his fingers away. The absence of him made you whine again in response, but you didn't have time to pout as he helped you ease onto your back, his deft hands helping to strip you and toss your clothes somewhere across the room.

The only thing left on you was the pencil skirt you'd worn out, now bunched up around your abdomen as you laid in the dark, eyes taking him in as he pulled off his shirt, the blindfold also yanked from his neck and lost to the carnivorous floor.

This time it was you playing the role of pervert, eyes wide and drinking in the sight of him from chest to abs to the waist of his pants barely showing the top of his hips. Leaning back he undid the fabric confines with quick movements, letting his cock spring free to lightly slap against his abdomen. Your throat suddenly felt parched taking in his pretty, flushed tip as his hand gave a few quick pumps but his lilting voice snapped you out of your trance.

"That face your making's pretty lewd," you knew he was teasing again, seeing his teeth flash in the half dark as he came down to brace his arms on either side of your head. "It's actually really damn hot."

Your toes curled from the embarrassment at being caught ogling him so nakedly but who could blame you? You could tell from his grin he knew he was attractive, enjoyed making you drool over him.

You let out an content sigh while tilting your head back against the pillows as you felt his cock start to grind against you. The feeling of his weight on you was intoxicating on its own but you were itching for him, impatient to feel him inside you, eager to know exactly how he felt.

His fingers reached down again to spread your folds, middle finger swirling around in your slick. "You're already such a mess." He almost held a tone of awe.

He kissed his way from your cheek to your lips, grinning into the kiss as you spread your legs wider in restless anticipation. Using one hand he dragged your arms to lace behind his neck, resituating himself as he felt your fingers dig into his back already.

"Hold on to me." He could've told you to dive head first into the Pacific and you would've without thought. Satoru pressed another soft kiss to your forehead, a reassurance as you felt the first stitches of pain as the head of his cock nudged its way past your entrance. Your head tipped back, pressing against the pillow as your mouth dropped open.

Your cunt instantly clamped down on him, earning a few pants as he pressed his face against the side of your neck.

"You gotta relax, baby," he whispered raggedly against your ear.

You whimpered. "Can't-"

"You okay? Need you to look at me." He cooed, nudging his nose against yours until you opened your eyes already swimming with tears.

"S'okay, you know I got you, right?"

You nodded, feeling every bit like a crybaby as you clung to his shoulders. You cried out again as he pressed deeper, feeling your rigid walls relax into a smooth, throbbing pulse around him as he slowly bottomed out inside you. Your chest felt heavy, mind somewhere beyond empty as you reveled in just how full he made you feel, your nerves alight feeling him nudging against your cervix.

The pain ebbed with your every exhale, your pussy easing up on its stranglehold letting him know he could move.

"Knew you were a good girl," his light praises made your nails scratch against his warm skin. "Gonna take it all, right?"

His lips devoured yours before you could respond, nipping at your bottom lip before marking a sloppy trail down the column on your throat.

"Wanna hear you make those pretty noises again, can you do that for me?" He spoke between each hot press of his lips against your skin. It felt like you were on fire, doused in sweat and helpless against the feeling of him rocking against your hips.

Little did you know it would be ingrained in his head forever, the feeling of you clenched around him and practically dripping down his twitching balls.

Your hand slid up to tangle in his hair as he found a rhythm, slow deep thrusts that tore moans from deep down in your diaphragm. The smack of his hips against yours made you feel like you were melting apart in a sticky puddle, like hardened sugar powerless to warm water.

The sound of skin smacking felt dreamlike and far away as your eyes screwed shut, fingers tugging at his snowy locks.

Stickiness spreads, hot and thick, throughout your body turning your mind into a sluggish mess and you swore you could feel your heartbeat through your entire body, thrumming in time with every one of Satorus thrusts.

"Fuck," he groaned, "You really know how to get me going." He was unabashedly thrilled to be the one to reduce you to a teary moaning mess, the very first to ever witness it. Equally exciting was the thought that he was the one getting to mold you to his cock, claim you and make sure nobody else could ever make you feel as good.

Your voice was cracking, wobbly on the verge of wailing and you dragged him down to you, frantic lips on any patch of skin you could reach before sinking your teeth into his shoulder after a particularly brutal thrust had him hitting you just right, enough to make stars dance behind your eyelids.

As your pussy clamped down again one of his hands slid down to roughly circle your aching clit, making you squeal and release his shoulder. Rough groans rose from his lips, tongue lapping at the now blooming red splotches on your neck from his previous nips to the skin.

"Gonna make sure I'm the only one who can take care of you."

His words barely reached your ears as you sobbed feeling something like pressure pop deep inside your tummy, wailing his name like a prayer all the whole his fingers never left your clit and his hips never slowed, fucking you through your orgasm.

"Hold on baby, I gotta pull out-"

"No," you hiccuped, delirium curling through the word and making his head drop, teeth gritting feeling your slick heat sucking him back in and your legs locked around his hips.

Your distant, glassy eyes and sweat sheened skin made the case for you, he wasn't going to deny you, the pretty little thing blubbering for him so sweetly against the mattress. But his right mind won out, pulling out at the last second to give himself a few harsh pumps before spilling hot and thick across your belly.

Your unfocused eyes watched him stroke himself dry, feeling the slick mess between your thighs and the little pin pricks of soreness along your throat. It took some time to feel like you'd regained any control of your body, bones feeling more like jello as Satoru toweled you off.

That amused grin stayed lodged on his face as he laid beside you, pulling you over so you were curled against his side.

You whined, small and cracked as your hand rested against his chest, the steady beat of his heart helping to ground you.

"What's the matter?" He mused, dragging his fingers up and down your back. "Can't do anything unless you tell me."

As you mumbled your request, eyes closed and avoiding his gaze, he broke out into a cocky laugh.

"There's always next time, don't worry your pretty little head."

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

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honeytonedhottie · 27 days

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the art of conversation (from a professional yapper)⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🍉

just wanted to preface this by saying that NOT everyone is extremely sociable and thats totally okay. this post is to help improve ur conversational skills and charisma ✨

WHY LEARNING TO BE SOCIAL IS IMPORTANT ;

social skills are literally the FOUNDATION of effective communication. its important bcuz it allows u to build meaningful relationships, express urself, collaborate with others etc.

when ur learn how to be an effective communicator u can connect more deeply with the people around u. being more social can also provide u with opportunities, and in general make ur life SO much easier. not to mention u have a lot more fun.

SUPERIORITY/INFERIORITY COMPLEX ;

an inferiority complex is the feeling of inadequacy, an insecurity that ur not on the same level as someone else. a superiority complex is the opposite, u can come off as smug or condescending. both are bad in their own right.

the way that u can combat this is by adopting the mindset that you are neither below or above anyone else, and no one else is above or below you.

doing so can kind of even the playing field of conversation in ur mind and make sure that ur not feeling some kind of way before going into a conversation bcuz when u let ur superiority/inferiority complex go by un-fixed it can sabotage communication and not give ppl the change to get to know u.

UNLEARN SHAME ;

first u gotta start off with thinking about ways that shame has influenced ur thoughts or actions. an example that im sure a lot of us could relate to is the whole cringe concept.

to help unlearn shame i recommend journalling, therapy, and mindfulness so that then u can let urself ENJOY things again, without having the looming fear of the judgement of others.

also no genuinely happy person is going to take time out of their day to shame u, only a loser would do that. and if ur the one shaming others for liking something bcuz of ur own insecurity, get that fixed and get a life.

PREPPING FOR CONVERSATION ;

when approaching someone or starting conversation with someone for the first time, a rly good way to start it is with a compliment. dont start it by saying hi cuz i think thats so awkward 😭

compliment them for something, their response can also tell u a lot about them also bcuz some ppl will take the compliment well and some ppl will serve u a dirty look and that alone can tell u if u rly wanna be conversing with that person.

LEARN TO LAUGH ;

since we've already talked about why learning to not feel embarrassed about every little thing is important, here's what to do when something like that comes up. literally laugh.

for example the other day someone whom i've never spoken to before came up to me and started talking to me so familiarly, like with their arm around me and everything and i just went with it 💀 until he noticed that he had mistaked me for someone else, but its okay cuz now i have a new friend. LAUGH ABOUT IT.

dont take everything so seriously, being able to enjoy and take a joke is what makes conversation so much fun. note, do NOT mistake taking a joke as taking disrespect bcuz u should not take that, there is a distinct difference.

the biggest advice i can give as a yapper is to be more lighthearted and not take everything seriously. bcuz i feel like when we take everything so seriously we become rigid and thats not hot, be a breath of fresh air instead ✨

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hanasnx · 10 days

Note

b.....baby daddy...... baby daddy gojo.....

“ARE WE DATIN’? ARE WE FUCKIN’? ARE WE SOMETHIN’ IN BETWEEN THAT?” — satoru gojo.

BABY DADDY!SATORU GOJO has a severe lack of boundaries, but in his defense he’s always been like that. Before the pregnancy, before you found out the news, before you were dating him, it’s all the same. He doesn’t see the need for it and there are times—especially now—when it’s simply inappropriate in the highest form.

“You ready to go, kiddo?” he asks, perky with a big grin as he eyes his son through his eye wrappings. The boy nods determinedly, bounding away while his backpack that’s too big for him weighs him down. For a second, he watches him run off to spend the weekend with his dad, and you observe him do it with a comfortable smile on your face.

He catches you, but instead of teasing you about it, he shoves a thumb over his shoulder. “Can’t believe that came outta you.” he jokes, and you nod along, aware to just go with his little quips until he decides to leave. “You look great.” He gestures to your form, head-to-toe, and you roll your eyes at his attempt to flatter you like the other moms do. How they dote on you to tell you you’re so lucky that you’re back to your old body after a baby. Some change permanently. “You been working out? Seriously.” he continues on, and you catch him when he slots into you, wrapping arms around each other in a familiar side-hug. His hand feels big on your back as he strokes it.

“Oh, Satoru, stop it.” you respond, devoid of conviction. It’s been years since your son was born, and it’s been a while since you and Satoru had to part ways, yet he talks to you like nothing’s occurred. Like you’re still friends, like you’re still lovers. He squeezes you and you playfully push him off. “Now get outta here, he’s practically bouncing off the walls to spend time at Dad’s.” You gesture to your son, who trips in his excitement, only to pick himself up just as quickly to keep running aimlessly.

“Would’ja look at that. Tough kid, just like his momma.” Satoru muses, and you scoff through your nose as he faces you, sticking his tongue between his teeth. “You got a goodbye kiss for Daddy?”

You sigh, resolved, and roll your eyes again. He’s so full of it. You concede anyway, innocently offering your lips to him.

You should’ve remembered that when Satoru gets an inch, he takes a mile, leaning down to meet your gift with pliant lips. At first, it’s chaste as expected, but he tilts his head. That arm around you traps you against him, and you make a noise of distress when he parts your lips with his, slipping his tongue in. It’s not supposed to go that far, yet he continues, slithering his tongue over yours like he’s done a thousand times before, and the sicko actually sends a pleasurable tingle down your spine. Gathering your bearings, arching away from him, you shove at his chest, freeing yourself. “Satoru!” you chide, and he snickers at you. You’ve kissed him hello and goodbye before, completely respectful and quick. Pecks, really. This was a full-blown french, and you eye him incredulously.

“Is Mommy and Daddy getting back together?” the slurred words of your son can be heard, and the two of you face him as he peers at you two with wide eyes.

“Look what you did! You confused him.” you admonish in a hushed tone, hitting the chuckling Satoru as he downs the steps of your front door to join his son. “Make sure to explain yourself to him, Satoru.” you iterate, shifting your weight to your hip as your cross your arms.

“I will.” he replies in a tune, gesturing vaguely over his shoulder. He idles a second, side-eyeing you over that shoulder slyly. “Mommy.” Your narrow your eyes at him with a shake of your head, but he merely continues on. “See you Monday~!” he adds in a much more lighthearted tone.

Monday couldn’t come fast enough but you didn’t know that after Satoru dropped your son off at school, he was gonna pay a little visit to you. You especially didn’t know what that visit entailed, you didn’t know you’d jump at the opportunity to scold him for the stunt he pulled, only to jump at the chance to get more. Things are hard lately, it’s lonely being a single-mom. Even though Satoru’s involved as he can be, it’s not like you get time for a dating life. He’d shown clear interest in you a couple days ago, shoving his tongue back in your mouth where it hasn’t been for months, now he’s shoving his cock where it hasn’t been for the same.

“Actin’ like you missed Daddy.” he remarks with that self-satisfied grin you wish you could smack off. He’s fucking with you while he screws you for real, that cock you miss so much hollowing out your insides.

“Cut the shit, Satoru, and just fuck me already.” you demand, fisting the covers to your bed as he’s got you on all fours.

“Hey, I’ve been thinking.” he replies, a leisured pace to his hips as his hands clutch the plush of your hips. To rush him, you back up on him until the sounds of skin on skin fill the room. He doesn’t wait for you to answer him. “Why not make another one?”

“Sato, quit playing around—“

“No, I mean it.” he insists, that signature grin stretching onto his features as his hands clamp down on your flesh. He inclines forward, driving into you at a reckless pace that causes a choked sound to emit from your throat. “C’mon, think about it.” he says just as your brain begins to fog from a fat cock shoving its way through your pussy. “We could make another one. We make such cute kids together, you know?” Your spine’s arch is so low it aches as his strength overpowers you, squeezing your eyes shut while he fucks you hard. “We’d be doin’ the world a favor. ‘Sides, you’ll look cute again all filled up with my cum.”

You whine, burying your face in the mattress as you claw the sheets. The pain and pleasure between your legs makes a mess, dripping down your thighs as he hits it from the back.

“Tits all swollen with milk. You remember when I drained some of it for you?” The memory bubbles up mixed emotions within you, sighing into the covers. “Drank it all, ran down my chin, they were so sensitive, always making little noises while I sucked on your nipples. Don’t be shy, baby, I know you liked it.”

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m4tthewmurd0ck · 4 months

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Tom Blyth x Actress!Reader

TBOSAS Vogue Interviews — Rachel + Tom

(next part will be you and Josh’s interview)

no descriptors other than reader being shorter than tom but i use she / her. click [HERE] for the table of contents for all things tom x actress!reader

for the interviews, rachel and tom are still paired up since they’re the leads, and you’re with josh. sorry hunter hshxhsdi. also in this tbosas has been out for a month so the cast is allowed to talk specific scenes and give “spoilers”

The first bit of the video shows short clips of some answers, but no context as to what the questions are.

“Oh that’s an easy one, my girlfriend,” Tom can’t help but smile.

Rachel playfully slaps him with the card. “I was going to say her!”

“Pepper jack,” Rachel shrugs.

“Maybe… maybe a sharp cheddar?” Tom laughs.

Tom sighs, “that was quite a hard scene to film. After each take I’d ask if she was alright at least a couple of times.”

“Honestly the games as a whole, because I missed a lot of the stunt training.”

THE INTERVIEW —

“Hi Vogue, I’m Rachel Zegler.”

“And I’m Tom Blyth. Today we’re here to ask each other some questions, rapid fire.”

Rachel shuffles the interview cards around. “Okay first question, what would you say was the most difficult scene to film and why? Ooh I have my answer already.”

“You go first, I’m still thinking,” Tom laughs.

“Well for me, the most difficult scenes physically were honestly… the games as a whole. I missed a lot of the stunt training so to have one of my first scenes be me running like crazy screaming for Jessup, it was pretty intense.”

Tom blushes a little. “Sort of piggy backing off of Rachel’s answer, the hardest physically I’d definitely say my scene with Josh when we’re running out of the arena. The first few takes were stopped fairly quickly because either he or I would trip. But the most difficult emotionally, the scene in the cabin with Coriolanus and Nova May.”

“Aww,” Rachel puts her hand over her heart. “That’s was so cool to watch you both but yeah I can for sure see why it would be difficult. Did you guys rehearse it a lot?”

Tom shakes his head. “Not at all actually. We ran through the lines a few times but as far as acting out the whole scene, not until we were on set and they wanted a run through. And thankfully after the third take they were satisfied. That was quite a hard scene to film. After each take I’d ask if she was alright at least a couple of times.”

Off camera, someone asks “how long have you guys been together?”

“Pretty much since we met,” Tom tries, and fails to hide his smile. “So she and Josh were actually cast on the same day in June of 2022. At that point Rachel and I had already been cast, and the 4 of us, it just so happened that we were all in London for one thing or another and we all went out to dinner that night. Knew I fancied her right away, and I wanna say it wasn’t even a couple of weeks later that I asked her to be my girlfriend. Sorry I know I went off topic. To answer your actual question, almost a year and a half.”

Tom and Rachel chat for a couple of minutes as cameras are moved around to capture different angles.

“Next question, something a lot more lighthearted. If you were a cheese, what—”

“Pepper jack,” Rachel shrugs, not elaborating.

Tom bursts out laughing. “You had that answer ready awfully quick.”

“What can I say, I’m a cheese girly.”

“I guess that’s my go. Pepper jack is a good answer by the way. I’ll go cheddar. Maybe… maybe a sharp cheddar?”

Rachel taps her chin as if considering what Tom just said. “Yeah, I could see sharp cheddar. Okay guys sorry they’re motioning behind cameras that we have to speed it up. This is rapid fire and we’ve only answered two questions, sorry!”

“Sorry guys! Okay okay next question. Who is your favorite person to run lines with? Oh that’s an easy one, my girlfriend.”

“I was gonna say her!” Rachel faces the camera. “You guys, she’s seriously the best person for that. She memorizes lines sooo fast. By the end she won’t need a script to help you and she’ll be able to still correct you if you mess up!”

“What — oh wait I’ve already asked that question,” Tom flips through the cards, “okay here we go. If you could play any other character in the film, who would you play?”

Rachel claps and points at Tom. “We were just talking about this! I’d either want to play your character because I think it would be so fun to kind of switch to the villain. Or Nova May because hello she’s a badass.”

“Do you know what, and I swear I’m not making this up, my answers are the same as yours. either Nova May because I feel like she’s the opposite of Coriolanus in a way. Or Lucy Gray because I love that even after the games, she’s stayed true to who she is and she doesn’t let Coriolanus corrupt her.”

Rachel and Tom chat again as cameras and lights are moved around. They each do 2 questions.

“Okay we’ve each got one more question. Ooh this one’s fun! You’re stuck on a deserted island for a month and can have five things with you, what do you bring? And it says people don’t count,” Rachel thinks for a moment, “you go first because I need to give this some real thought.”

“No people, okay let’s see… my phone, one of those solar power generators so I could plug things in, phone charger, a book, and mini fridge. I’m sure I could cook some things up and be able to save them for later.”

Rachel nods in approval. “I am going to copy your first three things because I think I’d go crazy not being able to at least write out my thoughts in my notes app or something, or record what’s happening on my camera. But for my last two things, a guitar now that I can play, and… oh crap this is harder than I thought. And… a surfboard! If you’re stuck on an island that’s the perfect time to pick up a new hobby.”

“I think we’re finally getting the hang of this, of course right at the end. Oh I have the last question that’s right. Let’s see… what three characters from other shows or films do you think would do well in the Hunger Games?”

“I love that question!” Rachel nearly falls out of her chair. “Definitely someone from Game of Thrones — ooh or House of the Dragon! You know what, Juliette would do really good. A bow and arrow can take you really far in the games and that’s her go-to weapon.”

Tom smiles and blushes once again at the mention of his girlfriend, or at least the character she plays.

Rachel thinks about her last two answers. “Joel Miller from The Last of Us, and Spencer Reid from Criminal Minds.”

“Why Spencer?”

“He’s a literal genius. I bet he’d be able to rig a bunch of traps that no one would suspect and he’d be able to eliminate most of the other tributes without any physical contact.”

“Ahh I didn’t think of that. Hmm also from House of the Dragon, Aemond Targaryen. He’s quite ruthless isn’t he, he’d have no problem getting rid of the other tributes. And also Clint Barton, like you said because a bow and arrow is a really good weapon to have. Also… Uhtred Ragnarsson from The Last Kingdom.”

Someone behind the camera says it’s time to wrap it up.

Tom smiles at the camera, “thank you so much for having us.”

“We hope you enjoyed watching, bye!”

TOM BLYTH x ACTRESS!READER TAGLIST —

@callsignwidow | @spencerstits | @coconut-dreamz | @daenerysqueenofhearts

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gojoath · 10 days

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ಣ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ TWO HALVES OF A WHOLE, OKKOTSU YŪTA

sometimes you swear you have two boyfriends, the one that loves you and the one that fucks you.

summary. fem reader. yandere yūta. obsession. manipulation. stalking. yandere themes. aged up characters. your boyfriends two personalities. toxic relationships. jealousy / possessiveness. wc, 2k.

note. repost :)

you swear you have two boyfriends, you must.. because this yuuta— the one that’s fucking you now, rutting you into the mattress with such carnal desire because he didn’t like the way that dude who served you both your coffee this morning was looking at you, is obscenely different to the one that still blushes when you answer his i love youwith a sweetened one of your own and a kiss.

“do you know him?” he’d asked as he took his seat across from you at the table, right after he’d chosen to pull out your own for you like the loving boyfriend he was. the perfect boyfriend. you want to ask who he’s talking about but you’d be an idiot not to know— you can basically feel the poor barista’s nerves from your table.

“he’s staring,” yuuta continues and you want to say that he’s staring as he holds his gaze, but you’re pretty sure he knows that already— the veins on his hands are prominent with how tightly he’s gripping the cup in his palms and you’re surprised it hasn’t smashed yet. it’s like the hostility is radiating off of him in waves despite the kindhearted smile he’s showing you.

“yuuta it’s fine,” you try to reason with him and it only makes him breathe out a soft chuckle before he’s taking a sip of his drink— the words seem to calm him, albeit temporarily as he shifts in his seat. “it’s customer service, he’s paid to be nice.” he offers the barista behind you another glance and then his eyes are back on you as he scratches cutely at the back of his neck.

“ah, i’m not worried.” yuuta’s tone is lighthearted, it’s sweet and soft in the way that you’re used to before both his hands are back on the table to clasp one of yours. his grip is a little too tight, but it’s nothing you’re not used to before his words taker a lower, deeper drawl. “because you’re all mine. right?”

two personalities wrapped up in one pretty boy, you think. but then your thoughts are cut off with the next languid roll of his hips as he deliberately slows his pace to a deep rock. you feel his fingers trace up your jaw before they’re pressing against your parted lips, prying them further open “open, baby.”

and you do, catching the glimmer of something twisted in his gaze at the way you listen so eagerly. your tongue swipes along his fingers before you watch a glob of spit drip slow from between his lips, making you moan when you feel the taste of him drench and ignite your taste buds.

“are you mine?” yuuta asks and the gentle, careful tone is such a contrast to the look in his eyes— it’s like a hunters gaze, rooting you in place, daring you to run— it’s like a promise that he’ll catch you even if you did.

“mhm, i’m yours, yuuta. please. only y-yours—ah.” his fingers press down on your tongue as he pushes them in a little more and you can feel the cool press of the promise ring on his finger. it’s one identical to yours. it’s the same one he’d gifted you six weeks into officially being your boyfriend after he’d assured you that time doesn’t matter, only your love for eachother does.

although if you asked him now, he still doesn’t think it’s enough to show the world you’re his. even though he’d prefer to keep you locked away with only him forever. you think it’s cute when he jokes like that.

it’s so twisted, maybe a little worrying for anyone else that you can’t help but like when yuuta gets like this. the way it makes you nervous again, butterflies in your gut like it’s the first time he’s been above you and suddenly you feel even warmer to touch. you feel shy despite the way he’s had you like this more times than you can count.

it’s lewd, animalistic but then you’ll get a peek of the other part of him when the next heavy rock of his hips is accompanied with a sweet, gentle kiss smeared across your forehead with his next breath as he pulls back his fingers from your mouth, weaving them with yours instead and squeezing tight.

“h-how, how does it feel?” yuuta’s words tremble with his next thrust as your pussy squeezes around him and your lips part to moan at the sweet question, body clenching and eyes fluttering closed as he grinds into your pussy. he’s rutting you into the mattress like a wild fucking animal before his blown gaze is scanning over you, drinking you up with a satisfied, adoring look.

“good, yuu~ s-so good!” he’s so pretty, fucking you so well you can barely find your words and it’s filthy the way he knows where to press, where to palm and kiss until you’re arching into him— like he’s studied the very way you play with your own pussy up close. like he’d torn you apart and put you back together himself.

he’s fucking you into a puddle of desire and need for only him.

you’re vaguely aware, although barely over the sounds of your own weak whimpers and long, needy moans, that he’s whispering under his breath, panting and growling softly.

“he probably wishes he could see you like this,” another slow rock of yuuta’s hips and he deliberately presses against that saccharine, sweet spot inside of your walls, making your thighs squeeze tight around his hips as he breathes deep.

“you’re pretty, so pretty,” you can’t help the physical reaction you have to his words, cunt clutching tight and your hips thrusting up to meet his own movements. you both gasp and his pace stutters but he continues. “but you’re mine, all of you.. it’s mine.” his words go buried in your skin— in your walls when they’re accompanied by a particularly sharp thrust. it’s like his love fills and swells within you in turn, until your lungs are tight, as if you can’t quite get enough air with each breath.

“i know, yuu~ i love you so much,” yuuta’s kisses smear over your cheek, hot breaths panting against your skin as he takes a pace that has your tits jolting with every clap of his hips into yours.

“s-say it again.” you hear him gulp on his next words and your pussy squeezes even tighter, “i need to know you mean it.” the soft slap of your pussy meets his pelvis and it makes your insides curl and ache, the feeling of his balls smacking your ass leaving you breathless with every connection.

“i love you,”

“show me.” you’re more than eager to give him when he asks you like that, hissed through clenched teeth and you whine long and wordless for him as bliss washes over you. you feel him tremble over you as you do, smearing messy kisses and spit over your cheek and neck— mumbling praises and i love yous against your jaw and lips as he looks at you.

you’re vaguely aware of how broken and weak your moans sound, but the rush in your head while you cum is a little too loud and delightful for you to really care about anything else except the man who made you feel exactly that. your thighs struggle to close, instinctively, as you shy away from the pleasure but yuuta shifts on purpose to keep them spread, his fingers withdrawing to rub softly through the swollen petals of your pussy so he can prolong your pliant state.

“i knew i didnt have anything to worry about,”

it doesn’t take long for him to follow after you. his cock flexes, thickening in a way that feels as if it grows with each greedy coax of your twitching cunt, until he pauses, followed by a breathier croon of your name as he spills hot inside you.

yuuta’s chest presses against yours, lips suckling into the crook of your neck, nails dragging gently down your hips as he presses his load into you until you whimper. you twitch and he uses the movement to hug you closer, stilling inside of you when he’s got his face buried into your shoulder and you both catch your breath.

you lie there for a long time, or so it feels until he’s leaving you quickly to grab you some water and a warm cloth. he returns in what feels like seconds, but now that you’re orgasm has finally worn off, you can barely look at him.

you’re not sure if it’s because of how hard and good he’s just made you cum or the pleasure he’d pulled from you so easily, leaving you in bite marks and bruises. but you feel so nervous suddenly as you twist nervously at the promise ring on your finger.

“are you okay?” yuuta asks quickly, a soft tone to his voice as the mattress dips when he sits next to you. he leans forward when he does, smearing a kiss against your cheek before he’s handing you the cool glass of water, which you take with shaking hands.

hes gorgeous, dark hair mused through the day from his hands gliding through it and now yours, falling forward around his face from being swept back to frame his flushed features now.

you meet his gaze and you’d think it burned you as you shy away, feeling heat creep to your cheeks when his fingers stroke gently at your arm. “i’m sorry, did i hurt you?” there’s a soft nervousness to his eyes despite his usual haunting gaze. he bites on his lower lip as he looks over you.

“ah.. sorry.” you try to keep your own bashfulness aside as you take a sip of water, letting it cool the scratchiness in your throat as you swallow.

“no, it’s..” he looks at you so intently, but there was always something in his gaze that made you feel cold despite the sweat across your body. but still you grin, before petting your hand across his.

“it’s cute seeing you all protective, that’s all.”

“is it weird?”

“no! not at all, it’s hot—“

“oh, ah— thanks.” he nods, a little shy and back to his kindhearted, sweet demeanour when you share a kiss, sighing with the content press of your bodies.

“did you know him?” yuuta kisses your forehead despite the way he presses the topic again. “i can find you another cafe if you want,” he breathes, another kiss to your skin following. he curls his arm around you as he looks over you and it’s with so much adoration that it makes your toes curl in the same way your body had a few minutes ago.

“maybe he’s new, i’ve never seen him. i like that cafe though.” you shrug, not seeing any real issue with it. but his dark eyes flash towards you and you giggle when he suddenly presses you down against the bed to kiss you passionately.

“i just don’t want anyone making you uncomfortable, i’ll kill them.” yuuta kisses you hungrily, making you sigh as you melt beneath him— you’re like gum, bending to his will with every flick of his tongue.

“i know, yuuta. you always joke about that. i still want to keep going to that cafe though,” his hand cups your cheek and you smile. he leans in to kiss you firmly with his next breath.

“we can go together. i don’t think we’ll see him again anyway.”

“what, why not?”

“because i want you to be happy.” your chest jumps when yuuta’s words urge you to curl closer— making something warm bloom in your chest at the love he makes you feel. you can feel him smile into the next kiss he smears along your temple, and he makes sure the kiss after is against the promise ring on your finger when he gives you another smile.

it’s hours later when yuuta leaves you, kissing your forehead before he’s slinging his katana over his shoulder and leaving you asleep. he’ll make it home before you realise he’s gone. the shift at the cafe is just finishing, and this won’t take long.

maybe his two personalities aren’t as far apart as he let you believe.

#cw yandere #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #okkotsu yuuta smut #okkotsu yuta smut #okkotsu yuta x reader #okkotsu yuuta x reader #okkotsu yuta x you #yuuta x reader #yuuta smut

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fangirlika · 1 year

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Hello! I don't know if you're up to writing smut (if not you can just ignore it haha), but maybe you could write something about reader not being very experienced and Charles, for teaching purposes, offers her some private lessons/tutoring, letting her do whatever she wants to him? Not in super kinky way, just getting to know his body and kind of exploring it ^^

sweet and hot at the same time, we love to see it! Loved the “for teaching purposes” hahaha Thank you for your request, I hope you like it!

Learning Hours

MASTERLIST

pairing: Charles Leclerc x female!reader

summary: you and Charles have been friends for a long time, however, the sexual tension between the two of you was there pretty much since the beginning. It was just that Charles, in contrast to you, was a lot more experienced. Time to share the knowledge, right?

warnings: nsfw, smut, porn with a little plot lol, oral (m receiving), typos probably

a/n: I got carried away with this ahhh I hope you enjoy it

“Oh come on, Y/n!”, Charles said as he sat on your bed, his head leaning against the headboard. “When was the last time you got laid? Last weekend?”

For context, the two of you somehow ended up in a conversation about how often the other one had sex over the past year. It was a joke, a lighthearted conversation between you guys.

You and Charles had been friends for what felt like a lifetime, hence, you were comfortable with him no matter what topic you were talking about.

In Charles' case it was no secret that he had his fair share of one night stands, girls he was seeing for a longer time and also two actual relationships over the past years. You couldn’t blame any of the girls he was with, that man is too gorgeous for his own good.

You on the other hand, never participated in the so-called hook up culture. You never blamed anyone who did, in fact you couldn’t care less, but you never felt comfortable enough to just go home with someone after a night-out or to meet someone online.

You’re not a virgin though. No, you had that one boyfriend, he later turned out to be a total douche, but for the time being, he was good enough to show you the basics in bed - never something crazy or actually anything but boring missionary sex where you’ve almost never really gotten off.

Sometimes, your inexperience made you a little shy and talking about your sex life has never been a preferred topic for you. So you just scoffed in fake annoyance and replied: “Sure, and I assume that you just came back from yet another poor girl's house?”

Charles put his hand over his heart to feign hurt. “Wow, ma chérie, that was personal”, he said but couldn’t help but chuckle a little. But then he looked at you again and the look on his face was nothing but curious. “But seriously, when was the last time? You never went home with someone after we went out together and as far as I know there are no dating apps on your phone…”, he thought out loud.

You didn’t like where this conversation was going. The last thing you wanted this afternoon was to admit to your guy best friend that you haven’t gone further than kissing a guy at a bar ever since you broke up with your ex-boyfriend, Charles never liked him anyways.

“So?”, you simply replied and tried to look as indifferent to the conversation as you possibly could.

Charles seemed to be able to connect the dots on his own, one could practically see the gears turning inside his head. “You’re telling me you haven’t had any sex since that excuse of a boyfriend?” Charles looked almost shocked.

You just rolled your eyes, really wanting to end this conversation. “I never told you anything like that”, you hugged out in annoyance.

“But, I’m right, am I not?”, Charles said, now there was a cocky grin on his face which just annoyed you even more. Of course he would find humor in this. It’s not to humiliate you, you know that, but between you two and also Pierre and some other friends teasing comments like these were very common.

You don’t know why but today you did not want to be on the receiving end of these remarks. “Okay, you are”, you said and moved your eyes down to the strings of your hoodie you were absentmindedly playing around with. “Are you happy now?”

Charles immediately noticed the shift from your relaxed and sarcastic state to seeming uncomfortable in the situation you two were in. Quickly, he stumbled out an apology: “N-no, I didn’t mean it like that. There is nothing wrong with not doing it often, nothing wrong with being inexperienced or… or-“

“Just drop it, Charles”, you sighed. “I know that I could go home with someone when we go out, but quite frankly, I don’t really want to.”

“That is fine! There is no shame in that, really, please, I didn’t want to make you feel bad about yourself”, Charles continued to ramble. He always did that when he was nervous or embarrassed, you couldn’t deny that it was kind of cute.

“No, it’s not that. I think it’s just that my inexperience keeps me from doing it, or something like that”, you said quietly.

“How does that make sense?”, Charles asked in confusion but put his hand up in defense when he saw your annoyed glance at him.

“I don’t know…”, you danced around the answer. “My ex and I we never really did anything… new in bed.” It took everything in you to admit the truth to Charles. “I guess I just don’t want to embarrass myself when I’d actually end up in bed with someone…”

Charles listened attentively and turned his head to look at you with a smile. You still avoided his gaze and casted your eyes downwards but he still noticed the faint reddening of your cheeks. God, you were so cute.

“You can practice on me if you want.”

Your eyes widened and you abruptly turned your head to look at Charles. “What?”

Charles didn’t really think before he said it. It just came to his mind. But when he took a second to actually think about it, he just shrugged. “Why not? We have know each other forever and I promise you won’t embarrass yourself.”

You also thought about it. Was it really a good idea? Definitely not. But then again, why not try it?

“I don’t know, Charles…”, you sighed. “I wouldn’t want it to ruin our friendship, you know?”

Charles nodded understandingly. It was the last thing he wanted as well. He knew it was a thin line they were moving on but if it could help her, he would do anything. “It doesn’t have to”, he said. “We only go as far as you are comfortable with, nothing more.”

You listened and nodded slowly.

“It’s only for learning purposes”, he smirked and when you saw his face you couldn’t help but smile too, shaking your head a little. This was insane, wasn’t it?

“I’ll teach you how to make a man feel good and you can try anything as well, okay?”, Charles searched your eyes for permission.

“Okay”, you whispered and looked him in the eyes.

The two of you stared at each other for a long time but then Charles slowly leaned his head forward into your direction. He held his gaze onto yours as to look out for any sign of hesitation from you.

But there was none. So, he closed his eyes and when his lips were just mere centimetres away from yours he stopped for a second. You on the other hand didn’t want to wait any longer so you closed the remaining gap between you two and connected your lips.

Kissing Charles felt different from kissing any other guy you did before. And you weren’t sure if a best friend was supposed to make you feel like this with just a simple kiss.

He moved his hand to your neck and the other one around your back to pull you even closer. You obliged immediately and leaned into him.

Charles swiped his tongue over your lips and you opened them just a little bit so that he could slip his tongue into your mouth. You involuntarily moaned a little which caused Charles to smile into the kiss.

“Keep making those noises, chérie, that’s a great way to turn us on”, he teased but there was truth behind his words - he wanted to hear more of those little sounds from you.

You couldn’t help the heat rising to your cheeks when he said this. “Quit being a smart-ass and take your hoodie off, Leclerc.”

You don’t know where this sudden confidence came from but you somehow wanted to show him that you can make him feel good.

“Bossy, are we?”, Charles continued and only laughed a little at your warning glare. Nevertheless, he leaned away from you a little to take off his hoodie.

His next words were a little muffled because he struggled to get the hoodie over his head for a second: “Don’t worry, it’s ho-“

As he was busy taking his hoodie off he failed to notice that you were doing the same so when he threw it somewhere behind him and turned to look at you again his words got caught in his throat.

You were sitting in front of him only wearing a black bra to cover your boobs. In all of your years of friendship he has seen you wearing a bikini plenty of times and even sometimes he saw you in your underwear, but never in a context like this. He couldn’t help but stare.

You however failed to interpret his staring correctly and so you felt your insecurity rise up back again. You were about to bring your arms up and around your chest to cover up a little again but Charles immediately took ahold of your wrists.

“Non, none of that, you look beautiful”, he muttered and tried to reassure you with one of his gorgeous smiles. You were sure you would melt if he kept looking at you like that during all this.

“Can I kiss you again?”, he asked but already pulled you into him by your wrists. You simply nodded before your lips were on his again, this time a little sloppier and less sensual. But still, it knocked the air out of your lungs.

Maybe you would regret it later but there was no space in your mind to think about the consequences of your current actions right now. Everything you though or felt in this moment, was him.

Charles laid down and pulled you with him so that you were now laying on top of his upper body. You moved one of your legs over his waist so that you were straddling him. Your lips stayed connected the entire time.

The confidence came back to you as you pulled away from his lips only to press a soft kiss to his jaw, then just below his ear and a few on his neck. This wasn’t new for you but it still gave you reassurance when you heard Charles letting out a shaky breath and a quiet moan.

Charles moved his hands down your back to your hips, squeezing the skin there lightly.

“Are you okay with taking off your sweatpants, let me see you?”, he muttered when you continued to litter his neck with soft kisses.

You nodded and felt his hands make their way past the hem of your pants. You lifted your hips slightly to help him get them over your ass and down to your knees. You sat up to pull them off completely, causing you to sit on top of him in nothing but your black underwear.

The movement caused you to grind a little on his crotch, which you didn’t even take notice of until you heard him curse some word in French under his breath and felt him tighten his grip on your hips again.

“Oh, sor-“, you were about to apologise but Charles cut you off by shaking his head at you. “Don’t, it feels good but I really need you to do something about it”, he said with a smirk on his face. He tried to make you more comfortable and confident.

Charles moved his hands up your back a little to pull you down to his level again. “O-okay”, you just replied hesitantly. Charles noticed, looked at you and brought his right hand up to caress your cheek. “We can stop here if you don’t want to, continue some other time or we just forget about it but-“, you cut him off.

“No”, you said and shook your head. Smiling at him before you leaned down to his lips again. It was rough, both of you moving your lips against each other messily.

“Can I suck you off?”, you asked him between kisses, the sheer innocence in your voice making him crazy. “Shit”, he muttered under his breath, “yes, okay, yes.”

You grinned and gave his lips a quick peck before you lifted your head away from his and dragged your lips down his chest. “But, you have to guide me, I- I’ve never-“

“I got you, mon amour.”

You felt a jolt of heat rush down your body at his words. You knew Charles was sweet, he was a good guy but somehow you always thought that when it came to sex, he was more rough and rushed. But you appreciated him reassuring you.

You got off him for a moment so that he could take off his sweatpants as well. What you weren’t expecting though was that he also took off his boxers in one go, freeing his cock from its restraints. It was already semi-hard.

He was big. Were your first thoughts. Sure, you only had your ex for reference but you were pretty sure he was above average.

You looked at him briefly and he was still smiling reassuringly at you. “Start with stroking it a few times, okay?”, he said.

You nodded and did as he said. Sitting across his legs this time you bent down a little, licked your hand and loosely wrapped it around the base of his cock. You observed his reaction; another breathy moan at the contact. You moved your hand up and down once, twice, and with the third time you swiped your thumb over his tip, eliciting another shaky breath from him.

“Good?”, you just managed to ask and he nodded, “Yeah, use your mouth now, okay baby?”

You tried to ignore the nickname, amour or chérie were a regular by now but this was new. In this context, however, it really turned you on.

You hummed in agreement and slowly moved your head down to his cock, darting your tongue out to lick along the shaft.

“Keep going, use your tongue like that, yeah”, he mumbled. You did as he told you, licking up his entire length a few times before you swiped your tongue along his tip, giving it a few kitten licks.

Your shifted your gaze to look back up to him, your eyes connecting. Charles swore he could have died then and there. For a brief moment the thought of how they were supposed to go back to friends after this crossed his mind. He was unsure if he would be able to do that.

The sight of you like this in front of him sure burned itself into his mind for the rest of his being.

“Feels so good”, he moaned. When he felt your lips wrap around his tip it hit him unprepared, causing him to thrust his hips upwards a little into your mouth.

It caught you by surprise, your eyes widening for a moment. “Shit, sorry”, he started to apologise but you just continued to suck his tip a little.

“You are evil, Y/l/n”, he whispered with a smirk and you smiled back at him, as best as you could with his dick between your lips.

“Can you move down further?”, he almost pleaded. You wrapped your lips back around him and moved them down inch by inch. It wasn’t even half way in but you felt as if you’d start to gag around him if you’d go any deeper.

“So good, use your hand for the rest, if you can”, he said and moved one of his hands to your hair, gathering the strands that fell in front of your face and pushed them behind your ears.

You brought one of your hands around the base of his cock again while simultaneously continuing to take as much of his length as you could, trying to build a rhythm with your movements.

Charles leaned his head back against the headboard, the feeling of both your lips and your hand on his cock almost too much to take.

Sure, he had done this plenty of times before but for some reason this was a lot different, and much more intimate.

You didn’t stop your movements until you felt him twitch inside your mouth, causing you to look up at him through your lashes again.

“Merde, I’m close”, he muttered.

“Cum in my mouth, okay?”, you asked with a hoarse voice, pulling him out of your mouth for a moment.

Charles looked at you for confirmation. “Really?” Instead of giving him an answer you just wrapped your lips around him, sucked harshly once and then went down to take him until he almost hit the back of your throat.

Charles let out a groan and moved his hand to the back of your head, pulling on your hair slightly. This caused you to moan around him, the vibrations of it giving Charles the rest it took for him to release himself into your mouth.

You swallowed all of it without really thinking about it. You licked up his length another time before pulling off him.

Charles tried to control his breathing and when he looked at you again he smiled. “I don’t believe you when you say you never did that before”, he said with a cocky smirk back on his lips.

You let out a chuckle, not sure what to answer. It was true though, this was your first time doing that.

“Well, like I said, my ex wasn’t really experimental in bed…”, you said and looked down again. Charles sat up slightly and lifted to lay on his chest again.

“Well”, he begun as he smirked at you, “he sure missed out on something.”

You couldn’t help but smirk and shake his head at him. “You’re a menace, Leclerc.”

Charles hummed and placed one hand back on your cheek, his thumb caressing the soft skin there for a moment.

“I’m sure you won’t say that again after I returned the favor to you.” There was a questioning tone to his statement and you just lifted your head from his chest and raised an eyebrow.

“I guess we will have to see about that after…”

—————

Part 2 is up!

As always, feedback and reblogs are dearly appreciated <3

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #formula 1 imagine #charles leclerc imagine #f1 #formula 1 #charles leclerc smut #Charles Leclerc x reader smut #Charles Leclerc smut imagine

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siriuslovebot · 9 months

Text

˖ ࣪⭑˖ ࣪𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒚 𝒔𝒍𝒆𝒆𝒑 ➸ 𝒓𝒆𝒎𝒖𝒔 𝒍𝒖𝒑𝒊𝒏˖ ࣪⭑ ˖ ࣪

𓏲 ࣪₊♡𓂃 𝑨𝑵𝑶𝑵𝒀𝑴𝑶𝑼𝑺 𝑨𝑺𝑲𝑬𝑫: more remus x mouse please!!! i adore them!!

𝑾𝑨𝑹𝑵𝑰𝑵𝑮𝑺: mentions of insecurity, post full moon remus is a little snappy, the nickname 'mouse', insomnia, crying (this is all quite lighthearted i promise)

𝑺𝑼𝑴𝑴𝑨𝑹𝒀: after remus snaps at the reader one day, some insecurities in their relationship come up.

𝑨/𝑵: hi loves! after the massive outpouring of love i had on mouse, i received this request and knew i absolutely had to write more of remus & mouse. this is written in the same universe, so to speak, but can be read as a standalone if you like. this one isn't nearly as long as the last, but it's just a little something that i wanted to write. if you'd like to see more of this pairing, just let me know and i would be happy to oblige!! as far as the warnings go, there's no real angst or anything just some insecurity on the reader's part. if that bothers you then please skip this one! as always, i hope you enjoy!

𝑾𝑶𝑹𝑫 𝑪𝑶𝑼𝑵𝑻: 1.9k 𓂃♡₊⭑

·͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺

a slot of light slips through the curtains across the room, the faint moonlight shining directly over your eyes. a tiny huff leaves your lips as you flip the other way; sleep has escaped you for the past hour. you’d awoken, heart pounding, from a nightmare, and have been awake ever since. it’s a wonder you haven’t woken marlene or lily with your quiet grumbling and frustrated sighs.

you curl into your bed, entangling your body in the duvet as you stare at the wall of your dorm. your eyes trace the cracks in the stone, the dim light illuminating their details just enough to distract you. you attempt to count them, hoping maybe it will help lull you to sleep. after what feels like hours, you give up. another annoyed grunt leaves your lips as you flop onto your back to stare at the canopy above your bed.

the problem is: you’ve been suffering from this insomnia for the past week now. ever since the last full moon, you’ve been worried sick. of course you’re used to dealing with remus’s touchy moods around the full moon; you’ve seen how short he can get with other people, how he becomes quieter and more reserved, how he sleeps more than usual. still, he’d never been that way with you, even when he was clearly at the end of his rope mentally and emotionally.

earlier in the week, you’d been excited to share the lesson he missed that morning in care of magical creatures. professor kettleburn covered mokes, displaying their remarkable ability to shrink themselves to near invisibility. it wasn’t unusual for remus to ask you what he missed in class– so you thought it’d be fine to volunteer the information. unfortunately, it seemed he was still on edge after his latest transformation.

you’d taken a seat on the end of his bed, placing a hand on his leg. you greeted him softly, knowing how exhausted he usually felt. he laid there, arm covering his eyes, and said nothing. you took this as an opportunity to begin speaking. there was no response from him for a moment, before he moved his arm, blinking his bleary eyes as he barely sat up.

a sickly-looking expression occupied his features. his sleeve rose a bit and you noticed another fresh wound.

“can you please just… leave me alone?” he said, voice cold, before collapsing back onto the bed. he shook your hand away from his leg and curled into himself.

“are you okay, rem?”

“go. away.” his words were punctuated sharply, turning almost venomous. you flinched, your entire morale crumbling to dust beneath the weight of his words.

your stomach churned, and you cleared your throat. “o–okay,” you mumbled. you were out of his dorm in a flash, your feet carrying you as fast as possible downstairs.

“hey, y/n–” sirius tried to catch your sleeve, but you pushed past him, out of the portrait hole without a word. the tears were brimming already, your throat tightening as you made every effort to get as far away from everyone as possible. you hated how much it could upset you; remus was not mean, and you knew that. he would never hurt your feelings on purpose, and you knew better than to bother him when he wasn’t feeling well. still, it stung.

even worse, you weren’t brave enough to bring it up when he finally returned to classes as normal. as he sat down beside you at breakfast, you wondered if he even remembered it at all. he greeted you amicably and bumped his knee against yours as he settled into his seat. but he didn’t wrap his hand around yours like normal. he wasn’t leaning in to whisper his witty remarks while the others were distracted. remus is not an obviously affectionate man in the first place, but you have grown used to him showing his fondness for you in quiet ways. brushing your hair behind your ear, carrying your books to class, holding doors open for you.

now, moping in your bed, you feel even worse about everything. since that morning, you worried that you annoyed him to the point that he didn’t want you anymore. maybe he just preferred you as a friend. that idea hurt even more. blinking, you try to push the thought out of your head. alas, you are nothing if not an overthinker, and the pestering thought will not go away. your one remedy is exactly the person you don’t want to face.

you realise you are in a predicament; being so obstinate, you don’t want to scurry off to remus’s dorm and pour your heart out after feeling so slighted. on the other hand, you’re afraid that your newfound relationship could fizzle out right beneath your nose. you’ve always heard that communication is key, but revealing your anxieties to remus feels too vulnerable. almost foolish.

ultimately, you decide to choke down your pride. the floor is cold beneath your feet as you slip out of bed. you force your limbs to move across the room, tip-toeing to the door. you wince as a stirring noise comes from across the room, then the sound of marlene’s hoarse voice.

“y/n? y’okay?” her words are slurred with sleep, muffled by her pillow.

“fine, marls. go back to sleep.”

she does just that, her breathing falling back into its steady rhythm. you slip through the small gap in the door, padding downstairs as quietly as possible.

by the time your feet hit the stairs up to the boys dormitories, you’re starting to question your decision. it’s stupid, you think. there’s no way remus would snub you on purpose; surely he would just up and say it if he was no longer interested… right?

it takes every ounce of willpower in your body to force yourself up the stairs. you take them one at a time, breathing deeply to ease the growing anticipation. it’s a wonder no one can hear your pulse quickening, your shaky breaths. standing at the door, you stare at it for a second. you can turn around this second and pretend you were never there. but wouldn’t it only make things worse?

a second passes, and you raise your hand to knock. you stop yourself. it would be rude to knock at this hour; you’d wake all four of the boys slumbering peacefully inside. instead, you hope not to wake anyone as you gently push the door open, peering inside. four forms occupy their beds, their silhouettes rising and falling gently with each breath. the light from outside the window barely illuminates the room enough for you to creep around the mess on the floor. you grit your teeth as one of them mumbles in their sleep; your eyes find james’s form, rolling over lazily in bed. he’s still sleeping, thankfully.

you step over a pile of books on the way to remus’s bed, and try not to startle him. it seems you already have, as his sleepy voice comes muffled from his bed.

“y/n? is something wrong?”

the sound of him calling you y/n sends a pang through you. as much as you complained about being called ‘mouse,’ it made you feel special whenever remus used your childish nickname.

“can’t sleep,” you mumble stupidly, your knee bumping into the edge of his bed. “sorry, didn’t mean to wake you.”

“of course y’did,” he says, voice thick with sleep. “y’weren’t coming in here just to stare at me…” he turns over, his bleary eyes finding yours in the darkness. he lifts the duvet, scooting over to make a spot for you. you climb onto the bed, but hesitate before laying beside him.

“what’s wrong?” he reaches for you, long fingers wrapping around your wrist. his thumb traces the inside of your wrist, gentle against the skin. he doesn’t tug you down, which you would appreciate if it weren’t for the full view he was getting of your upset face.

“are you mad at me?” this whisper is quieter than the last one, if possible. your eyes shine with tears, and remus’s face falls into a heavy frown.

“what are you talking about, m’little mouse?”

your heart seems as if it’s going to explode for a second; you force your gaze away from his face. you can’t stand to watch the way his brows pull together, the way his lips drag down into a frown, the concern softening his warm eyes. a lump the size of the castle has grown in your throat, and you want to hide your face more than anything.

“i just–well, after the last full moon, it just… seemed like you didn’t want to see me anymore. i know it’s a lot to deal with, and i shouldn’t have bothered you–”

“hey,” remus cuts you off, his voice soft. little choking breaths and sobs are interrupting your words, and tears cloud your vision to the point that you can barely see him in the darkness. “you never bother me. c’mere…” he sits up, pulling you into his embrace. he’s warm, his scent enveloping you in a blanket of comfort. it’s astounding just how much he’s soothed you already, your crying quickly calming to dull hiccoughs.

“so you’re not mad?” you breathe, your face tucked into his neck.

he laughs quietly. the sound is barely audible, but you feel the rumble of his chest. “no, mouse.” his lips press against your temple, and you melt into him. you close your eyes, feeling more restful than you have in days. “‘m sorry i was short with you.” he holds you close, cradling your head as you finish calming down.

“can i stay here with you?” you ask, after what feels like forever. you look up at him hopefully, face flushing at the adoring look in his eyes.

“‘course y’can,” he says, moving over even though there’s plenty of room for you already. “poor mouse, you look exhausted.” he brushes your hair out of your face, and you nod weakly.

“i haven’t slept properly for days,” you mutter, tucking yourself into his side as you settle beneath the duvet. one of your hands slips under the hem of his shirt, his skin warm against yours.

“i wish you would’ve said something sooner.”

“i know. i just–” you huff “--i was embarrassed. i didn’t want to scare you off.”

there’s his laugh again, sweet and sleepy. your stomach does a flip.

“oh, it’d be hard to scare me off after i saw you turn into a mouse–”

“rem!” you say, voice sharp despite the quiet. his stomach rumbles with light laughter, and you shake your head.

“okay, sorry,” he says, grinning. “let’s not wake the guys up. think sirius’ll have my head for disturbing his beauty sleep.”

you mumble your agreement, closing your eyes. it’s about time you got at least a few hours of good sleep. the room is quiet for a second, just slow breathing.

then, from james’s corner of the room: “what about my beauty sleep, moony?”

there’s an eruption of giggles from your bed, and you bury your face into remus’s neck to stifle the sound.

“sorry, prongs,” remus says, sheepish.

“yeah, yeah, you old sap. go to sleep, or i’m recounting this whole thing to sirius in the morning.”

“oh, please don’t,” you plead quietly.

there’s a grumble from across the room. then, “what are you gits up blabbering about?” it’s sirius, his voice gruff.

“nothing, pads,” says james. “going to sleep.”

you say nothing, cheeks burning as you settle down, curling against remus’s frame. sleep finally finds you, sweeping you off into a dreamless slumber.

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