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todomochi-uwu · 3 months ago

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“Hey, you up?” B.C

Pairing: Bang Chan x reader

Genre: Angst, Smut

Warnings: This content is for a mature audience

Synopsis: Don't wanna end this game Hope it goes for eternity Let's not go official, we can keep the "You & Me" Don't ask, "What are we?"

Author's notes: This is sad and steamy. It's been quite some time, sorry. Hope you like it.

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If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee ☕

“Hey, you up?”

Nights like this always start the same. Same message, same reply, same outcome. Every. Single. Time. And every time you end up the same way. Tangled in your cold bed sheets, staring at ceiling, while he’s quick to look for his clothes and get out as quick as possible. A long time ago you had tried to get him to stay, but now you know it is a lost cause. Chan would never stay over, because staying over is for people in relationships, and he doesn’t do relationships.

“I’ve never liked labels, if we are having fun, why spoilt it with technicalities?”, he said.

Things started with you being naive enough to believe that sex would be enough for your fragile heart. Maybe you could get closer to him little by little, you thought, maybe he would grow feelings (well, at least you did) maybe, maybe, maybe...

Sex with Chan is great, mind-blowing, you’d never had someone who was so focused on your body, on what you like and what sends you over the edge. It was like he had memorized every single nerve of your body, knowing where to touch, where to suck, like or bite. It was everything he did that made you almost addicted to him; the way his fingers would reach places yours could never even imagine; how his tongue and lips seemed to be able to go on forever, never once complaining; the way his hips and his cock would move and thrust sending you into heaven every single time. Chan was a giver in bed, always making sure to put you first while in bed, many orgasms, and blissful hours at a time, but as soon as you were done, he went back to being the same detached man you know.

And while at first, you could somewhat stand this kind of relationship, it was slowly destroying you on the inside. So, now you lay there, staring at your phone screen, debating yourself. Would it be worth it? At least for a few hours, to be in his arms until your little bubble pops once he’s had his fill. Saving your soul and your mental peace would be a wise decision, but you are weak, weak and in love.

“Fuck, Chris!” You pulled his hair, his head between your legs, while his lips are wrapped around your clit and his fingers piston in and out of your hole. His other hand keeps your legs open while you thrash them around, unable to keep them still.

His fingers change into their angle, making you throw your head back, now his tongue kitten licks your small bundle of nerves, “Common, pretty girl. Cum one more time and I’ll fuck you the way you like.” His lips sucked harshly.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck, please, please, please.” You didn't even know what you were begging for, “Don’t stop, Chan.” Tears threatened to come out, it was too much.

“You are doing so good, such a good girl, my perfect little slut. Come on, baby cum.” His tongue thrusting itself into you, sending you over the edge. Your back arched and you let out such a sound you were sure the neighbours would complain in the morning, but you couldn't care less right now.

Eyes closed and desperate for air, your legs numb and a tingly feeling between them, Chan kept lapping at your centre, slurping all your juices, overstimulating you. Your mind was in complete bliss, making you unaware of the producer’s next plans. He was quick to turn you around, grabbing your hips and putting you in four.

“Fucking hell, you have no idea how much I love your ass.” He said as he spanked your cheeks a couple of times, leaving a dark imprint on both. You moaned and shoved your face into your pillows, you could feel your juices start to spill down your leg.

“Please, please, fuck me, Chanie.” You wiggled your hips, trying to entice him.

He grabbed his cock and rubbed your clit with it, “Yeah? You want my cock, baby?” He pressed it against your cunt, pushing a bit in, but it wasn’t enough, “Beg for it, love.”

You whined, your skin was on fire, and your legs trembled with need, “please, daddy, I’ve been a good girl, please, please, I need your cock, plea...” You screamed.

Chan shoved himself with a single thrust. Throwing his head back and grabbing your hips tightly, he didn’t give you any time to get used to. “Shit, you are so fucking tight.” His pelvis banged the tender skin of your ass, his balls slapping your clit, and his cock hitting against your cervix. His rhythm was too much, but you wouldn’t dare escape it.

He leaned himself into you, put his hand right beside your head. He could see how red your face was, the way your mouth let out at sins and how tears ran down your face. And he was loving every single second of it. “Who is making you feel this good, baby?”

You couldn't even answer, gibberish and moans came out of you, but that wasn’t enough for you. He changed the angle of his thrusts, hitting a sensitive spot inside you, making you scream, his hand went right to your clit, rubbing it in circles, “Answer me. Who?” You tried once again, but nothing clear came out.

Tired of this, Chan straightens himself, taking you with him. Your back against his chest, his hand choking your neck while his thrust got even quicker, his mouth right next to your ear. “I know you are nothing but a dumb slut, but I’m talking to you, and I expect an answer. Now.” Thrust. “Tell me.” Thrust. “Who’s fucking you this good?”. He bit you, marking you.

“You, Chan!” Your thighs burned and you were so close, your juices now ran down his balls, and you felt like passing out. He pushed you to the bed, pressing himself against your back.

“This pussy is mine, you hear me? No one else can have it.” His thrusts were becoming quicker, shorter and desperate, he was also close. “Only I get to fuck it, you are my whore, no one else’s.” Thrust. “Don’t you dare forget that.”

Nonsense and his name kept coming out of you like a prayer, everything building up, until the tight knot in your stomach finally snapped, juices squirting everywhere. He wasn’t there yet, so he kept going, overstimulating you, sending your nerves into overdrive.

“Just a bit more, Babygirl, hold on, yes, you are such a good girl, goddamn how much I love fucking you. Oh god!” And like that, you felt his warmth filling you up, making you cum once again. Slowly, he pulls his cock out, his seed spilling out of you and into your sheets. Your legs finally give in, and you fall flat out into the mattress.

Your brain is somewhere else, trying to come back down, and Chan is right next to you. His left arm is in his face, he licks his lips in dehydration, his chest falls up and down quickly and his right hand holds tightly onto your thigh, trying to ground himself.

And just as fast as Chan comes, he goes. He straightens himself, sitting down at the edge of the bed, he’s quiet and distant, looking for his clothes. Not once does the turn to look at you. “Hey, are you okay?”

“Yeah.” You whisper, laying on your side, facing away from him.

“Good.” He pulls his pants up, and his shirt next.

As he’s about to make his great escape, all reason flies out of your head.

“Hey, Chris?”

“Yes?”

“What are we?”

You wait a few seconds, but nothing comes of his mouth, you have an answer.

“Yeah, I knew it. Goodbye, Chris.”

He doesn’t dare anything else, so he leaves.

Everything had changed in that second, and you both know it.

_________________

It had been weeks since that night. All messages had gone unanswered. You were no longer lying in bed wondering if you should do it, you didn't. It was now Chan who tried to reach out.

“Hey, you up?”

“Hey, umm I don’t know if you are busy, but call me when you can. Or text me.”

“Hey, baby haven’t seen you in a while. Text me. Please.”

“Hey, did you change your number, and I forgot to save it or...”

“Hey, I went to that caf�� you like so much, you are right, it’s really good, we should go once you are not so busy. Text me.”

“Hey, did I do something? Are you mad at me? Cause if I did, please let’s talk it out.”

“Hey, listen, I don’t want to lose you over something so stupid. Call me. Please.”

You can’t lose something you never had; you think. Work and friends kept you busy enough so you didn’t think about him in the day, nights were much more complicated, and there were days you were tempted to go back, longing for him, for his touch and his warmth, but you knew it would only make you feel worse.

Han was the best friend in the world, taking you out and making you break out of your shell little by little, some days it was a party, others it was just the two of you. Some days you felt like you were at the top of the world, whereas others you could only weep in his arms until you passed out from the pain.

_________________

You looked at yourself in the mirror. Makeup and hair done, high heels and heavy earrings, and even though you were trying to erase that fact from your head, his favourite dress on. Han had chosen it for you, and you couldn’t tell him why you had avoided that specific piece of clothing.

“You ready, sweetie?” He peeked into the room. You nodded, not sure of it.

_________________

Music was blasting out and bright coloured lights covered the entire place. The drink in your hand had served its purpose, you were drunk. In the middle of the dance floor, Han has his hands on your waist, keeping you close while you dance. He whispers sweet things in your ear, while you giggle. It wasn’t something new, this scene had occurred on past occasions, even escalating, but Han and you never dug too deep into it, kisses and casual affairs had once been part of your friendship, and you both were comfortable with that.

He turned you around, looking into your eyes, he placed a small kiss on your forehead, next on the tip of your nose, and your lips. A simple peck. You put your hands around his neck, swaying your hips, throwing your head back, enjoying the moment.

“What you thinking about, pretty?” He whispered against your lips.

“Nothing in particular.” You whisper back.

He pulls you closer, your head against his neck, and his lips leave small kisses on yours. You feel at ease.

Until you open your eyes.

And there he is.

A drink in his hand, he’s looking at you. His eyes burned holes into Jisung’s back. All air escapes your lungs.

“Ji, he’s, he’s here.” You whisper-yelled, your pulse going up.

“What? Chan? Are you sure?”

“Jisung, he’s here.” Your tongue twists and your fists tighten around his clothes, “He’s here, I don’t know what to do, I, I, I’m not ready.”

“Okay, calm down, I’m getting you out of here.” He grabs your hand, quick to push his way through the crowd. You make it out of the place, and the cold air hits you, helping regain your breath. “Okay, give me a second, I’m getting the car, wait here.” You try to protest, but he’s gone before you can.

You stand there, shivering, praying he doesn’t find you, but you smell his cologne before you can even see him.

“I thought you and Jisung were only friends.” His tone is harsh, making you flinch, “Is he the reason you’ve been ignoring me?”

“We are just friends.”

“Friends don’t kiss like that.”

“Yeah? Then what the hell were we doing, Chan? Because we sure as hell were not dating.” Your turned to him.

“Why haven't you answered my texts?”

“I’ve been busy.”

“With him?” Venom spits out of his mouth, he’s way past furious. You know he’s jealous, but that throws you off.

“No, Chan. I have a life out of our little flings, and you know it.”

“So, you are too busy to answer me, but aren’t too busy to come here and throw yourself into Jisung?”

Okay. You are done.

“What do you want me to say, Chan? You have no right to come here and demand an answer. You are not my boyfriend. You and me, we are nothing.”

“That’s a damn lie and you know it.”

“Do I? What are we? Because you made it quite clear, you like me Chan, but you don’t love me.”

“The fact that I don’t like labels, doesn’t...”

“Oh, cry me a fucking river, Christopher. You don’t want me, but you also don’t want anyone else to have me. You are so fucking cruel.” You cried, tired of everything, of him, “I need to move on, I need it. Please, let me go.”

Han's car horn ranged loudly, arriving just in time to save you. “I’ve gotta go. Goodbye, Chris.” Same words as that night, the night he lost you. They ran on Chan’s ears.

He grabbed your hand, tightly, not wanting you to leave, “please, please let’s talk, I don’t want this to end.” Small droplets came out of his eyes, startling you, but you stood your ground.

“Chan, let me go please.” You tugged.

“I don’t want to.” He pulled.

“Don’t make it even harder, please, my heart can’t take it anymore.” You whispered.

“Give me a chance, please. I’m begging you.

“No, Chan. I already know how this will end, and I can’t take it.”

He shook his head, “please.”

...

“Can you promise you will be my boyfriend?” Plain and simple.

“What?” His eyes widened.

“Can you promise to give us a title? No more casual sex? Will you make it official?”

You wait a few seconds, but nothing comes of his mouth, you have an answer.

“Yeah, I knew it. Goodbye, Chris.”

Everything had ended in that second, and you both know it.

#bang chan x reader #bang chan fanfic #bang chan #bang chan angst #bang chan smut #stray kids bang chan #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #stray kids #stray kids angst

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delicrieux · 4 months ago

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…TAKING WHAT’S NOT YOURS ! ⋆｡°✩

⋆.˚𖦹⋆✮⋆.˚ chapter summary. some things in life are unbearable, and in yours? they’re titled gojo satoru and trying to ruin you.

pairing. gojo satoru x f!sorcerer reader

genre. enemies to lovers, ‘my bully is actually in love w me,’ comedy, light-hearted romance, aged up characters (in college), gojo being touchy bcs boundaries do not exist to my king

warnings for this chapter. gojo is being particularly troublesome

wc. 3k

author’s note: HOW ARE WE FEELING JJK NATION?!

ੈ✩‧₊˚

masterlist | buy me coffee☕ | twny masterlist | next >

CHAPTER 1: imagine minding your own business undisturbed omg

tokyo jujutsu tech is big. real, real big. but no matter where you go, he's there.

gojo satoru has made it his life's mission to relentlessly annoy you for no apparent reason. it was hate at first sight, or something equally despicable as that. for three years now, you’ve had to endure jeers raging from your sorcerer's ability to the size (or lack thereof, as you’re often reminded) of your ass. yes, that does count as harassment. no, gojo does not care.

you don’t know why he can't just leave you alone. he seems to delight in your anger and misery. they say you need to stand up to your bullies and give them a taste of their own medicine, but that does not work on gojo. the angrier – the better. he wants a reaction. he wants attention. he wants your despair served on a platter for him to lick clean and mouth, “delicious, thank you, more please.”

it's the silence and ignoring he can't take. it's like a personal insult. some deep rooted fear you hope he'll choke on.

gojo claims to hate you quite loudly. boisterously, even. wears his spite like a badge of honor, keeps it nice and clean pinned to the lapel of his uniform.

yet everywhere you go, he’s there – by your locker, outside your dorm room, on every mission you’re sent on, and always in the places you frequent. it's not exactly stalking, but it's like...gojo's way of being just as clingy without getting called out. you have called him a stalker. he laughed, pointed, and said, "what kinda idiot would even want to stalk someone like you?”

out the women's showers, you waddle to the common area. there's a vending machine, and you’d like a bubbly drink to refresh yourself. first, from the moist heat of the showers and then from the humid summer just outside the window. it’s peaceful, despite the temperature. the water still clings to your skin.

you just to locate and rejoice the last bottle of cola before you feel eyes on the back of your neck. of course. of course he's here, and you didn’t even hear him. of course.

"ugh," you groan aloud, fingers stalling against the cold buttons

"your ugliest pj's?" you startle from how loud he is, right next to your ear. too close. he’s always too close.

he makes sure to whistle long enough to make you squirm away. fuck him, he towers over you. can’t see his eyes underneath those super expensive designer glasses, but you know they keen for your reaction. once, to shoko, he said he bought them because they looked cool. unprompted, uninvited, unwanted, you chirped that they looked dumb as hell.

"whaddya got there?" his fingers press into your spine, and maybe he uncovered a new technique to turn you into stone. there is absolutely no personal space in this equation. he has none, and he has no concept of invading yours. with anyone else, maybe you wouldn't mind.

keep cool. you’re cool. stone-faced, unmovable. you don’t care if he’s trying to claw into your marrow with his neatly trimmed nails.

you hesitate for a single moment before you punch in the number. the machine whizzes and thunk, “fuck off, please,” you say, bending down to snatch your drink. he hums, sounding too satisfied for your comfort.

"you're gonna fuck yourself up on all that carbonation. never thought you could get any more hideous, but alas!"

you turn to him, and he has the good sense to move back a step to avoid the mouth that’ll insult him. there's a twitch to his brow, and an ease to his smile as he regards you leisurely. the latter is almost never a good thing. it means he's really enjoying this interaction.

if you shake your cola enough, maybe you’ll be super lucky and the spray will land on his face. now that's an idea. but even if you caught him off guard, his cursed technique would likely be in motion and the soda wouldn't touch him. how troublesome. a waste of a drink. you decides against it.

gojo leans on the vending machine. his own personal attempt cower her into submission. for what exactly? no one knows. maybe getou would have an idea, if he’s merciful enough to share. when you don’t say anything or flinch away like ijichi often does, he sighs heavily.

"aw, are ya still mad about last time? that was days ago. c'monnn, kami-”

"don't say my name."

"i forgot. kawakami-chan doesn't like me, right?"

you thought about switching schools. kyoto tech is also very good. you’d be at peace there. utahime hates gojo just as much as you do, and you have already bonded closely over this shared distain.

it's likely gojo would transfer after you. just to spite you.

"don't you have anything better to do than harass me?" you question.

the most infuriating thing about gojo, and about this situation, is that he’s happy. when you’re like this – huffing, shoulders taut, and frowning – he seems to be enjoying himself the most.

"don't pretend like you don't like it, kami-chan."

this asshole has a god complex. he seems to truly believe the earth would have ended up in a heap of smoldering ruin if not for him. to be fair, he's probably right, but still. you would first bite of your tongue than admit to that. you have considered a lobotomy to get the idea out of your head, but in the joke that is your life, gojo would likely be holding the orbitoclast.

you resent him so much you find yourself burning in his presence. it's like he took a personal class to master the art of pestering.

"doesn’t this ever get boring?"

he laughs, pressing a hand to his cheek as if embarrassed, "i never get bored of you, kami-chan. when are you coming back to the field? been too busy hanging out with losers to do some missions?"

"how pathetic must you be," you snark, "to be thinking of me when i'm not there to torment."

gojo ignores you and moves to tug at your top. the audacity has you reeling, and you attempt to smack his hand away only for it to be stopped at the last second, "yup," he inspects the quality of the fabric, his teeth flashing and making his already smug features look haughtier, "cheap.”

you open the can so forcefully the contents fizzle and spray on your hand. gojo grins so hard you expect his face to crack in half. if only.

"can i have some?”

"stop touching me," you hiss, trying to slap him away again, "why are you always touching me?"

gojo sidesteps. the dodge and dash he does, coupled with his agility, is incredible. had you not seen his many victories in battle, or spent any amount of time with him, you might be enamored. impressed, even.

perhaps that lobotomy is still an option.

"just," his arms dart out to pin you to the vending machine and you immediately aim a high kick to his thigh. but, of course, his infinity protects him. bastard. he doesn't let up though, and those hands slide along the expanse of your thighs until they meet your sides, leaving a warm trail, "makin' sure i can see all of these pores up close."

gojo, as disgusting as you often think he is, does always have a bit of honesty in his insults. you want to scream, maybe, because your pores are fine. great, even, you’ve invested into a new skincare routine, and it’s clearly working. it even works on shoko’s dark circles. he’s so full of shit, it's nauseating.

"fuck off," you shove his hands away and gojo lets you, surprisingly.

"really gross," he comments.

"you're the gross one. self-absorbed stalker."

gojo, an absolutely foul looking monster if you’ve ever met one, waggles a finger at you.

"careful, kami-chan," there's no trace of warning, only amusement, "we wouldn't wanna accidentally bump into each other too many more times."

his meaning isn't lost on you.

you hold up a finger, too. right in his face. pause. take a sip of your soda. there's no reason you should indulge this maniacal sadist in any capacity. gojo has an aura. an attitude. he comes off as unrelenting, and for all intents and purposes, he is unrelenting. in and out your life, an unshakable constant, with a lopsided grin and piercing eyes. you hate him.

you try to sidestep and flee to your room, but he blocks you. step. block. step. block. step block. stepblockstepblockstepblockstepblock-

"god! you're fucking infuriating," you explode.

you want to clock him, strangle him, castrate him, kick his head through the concrete. he's ruining a perfectly nice evening. what is it about you that he just loathes to see, so much so that it drives him to see you hurt all the time? is he truly so bad off? does he live a miserable and joyless existence?

"thanks," he looks genuinely honored, "but how'd you come to the conclusion, huh? after a little brainstorming session or-"

"what do you want?"

"lately?" gojo taps his chin, his tongue poking out, "seemed like you needed some space, so i just waited around here till you were done."

christ, he really is a stalker. you’re starting to worry he's like, actually insane.

"but now we can hang out!”

"i'm going to bed," you declare.

gojo ignores your announcement. gojo always ignores whatever you have to say.

"where we heading? your place or mine?"

"you are not going anywhere with me!"

he reaches out to flick your temple. it's so juvenile it takes you by surprise. your hands immediately fly up to protect yourself.

"huh," his face softens as if you’re this small, pathetic thing. not pity exactly, but definitely a worrisome expression, "look,” he snaps his fingers, “look. look,” he snaps them again and you will tear your hair out in 83 seconds if he doesn’t go away immediately, “we both gotta take a mission, right? might as well go together."

"go with suguru,"

gojo sighs dramatically and his whole upper body collapses, like he's pretending you kicked his shin. you reel back a bit from the proximity.

"mmm, but suguru’s so uptight lately," he comments. that’s good. getou suguru, ever the diligent one, was the first person in your sorcery class who made you feel welcomed. you quite like him, but the fact that his best friend is gojo implies there's something deeply wrong with him. you really don’t want to know what.

"go with shoko then," you state.

"shoko's just..." his arms jerk violently as if he's pretending to smash a plate, "not really on board with my mission types lately. says she can’t leave our only doctor since the patients are dying before they have a chance to enter the trauma room."

sad news for shoko, but your mind works quick.

"go alone," you smile, tilting your head to the side. the motion seems to catch his interest, "and don't come back."

gojo clicks his tongue, clearly peeved. victory. you relish this tiny bit of triumph. he starts to walk away and you watch him retreat, hopefully from your life, "i can't,"

"no way you've fallen so far."

"suguru told me to check in with someone before going on my own. it'll just make him and yaga-sensei super worried!"

"oh no," you chime, "i think you should go alone. and die."

he laughs, "come on," a pause, "it'll be fun! team-bonding and shit."

team-bonding and shit is you having a cola and reading a magazine. not fighting alongside the man who torments you like you’re some sort of pet: ‘kami-chan, do a split,' ‘kami-chan, do a roll,' ‘kami-chan, how big is your cup size again?'

the most effective way to hurt him is silence. you turn your eyes away and hum. this must be done delicately. if he catches even a whiff of your intention to flee, he’ll barge right after you. get you in a headlock and make you cry, because maybe he’s grown demented and will enjoy the sight of your tears.

with as much ease as your taunt muscles can muster, you casually pad in the direction of your room. he hasn't tried to tear down your door yet, but that's likely because the senseis would have to reprimand him.

gojo won't leave you be though, will he? as if it's a struggle to keep pace with you, he follows closely and peppers you with requests:

"come with me."

"shut up."

"we can grab dinner and-"

"you can shut up."

gojo sings, "team-building exercise, you're supposed to make a comrade's wishes come true, so come with-"

"i'll kill myself if force me to go with you. stop begging. it's so lame."

he laughs so loudly and unexpectedly that you jolt. this asshole thinks your threat is baseless. it isn’t. you’ll do it, or so god help you. you aren’t one to bitch out on anything, and maybe that’s why he’s so intent about this.

you wish he'd just give up, but it's highly unlikely. he's stubborn, and you aren’t enough to bend him.

"are you implying you'd kill yourself in front of me? for what? to mess with me?"

your face is very serious when you say, "yeah."

"shit, and you expect me to not want to see that? sorry babe, i'll have to tag along," he grins wickedly and you find yourself fighting down a spring at nausea at the sickly pet name. that’s a new development.

you move to stomp away, but he's right there to cage you to the wall. no, please, you’re at your limit. you might crumble into a heap on the floor and never rise again, even if he consistently poked at you for days.

"come," his glasses slide down his nose a bit and you’re met with gleaming, impossible, revoltingly beautiful blue eyes, "on," and he leans down. this close his infinity is gone, and you can feel the hard planes of his muscles, "a mission with me."

"kill me," you bite out.

you don’t like this, nor the rising fluster or the scent of his cologne. he always smells fresh, even in the summer months where sweat sticks like second skin. the cool wall against your back has your skin prickling. maybe this is a new advanced torture method. much more effective than waterboarding, which you would willingly take if that meant he’d let you go.

why must he be so tall? the sunlight bleeding from the windows douses his hair in a halo. it’s completely deceptive to how absolutely giddy he looks. your breathing picks up. what a nightmare. you’d attempt to knee him again if your limbs weren’t suddenly immobile.

he leans forward and murmurs, "is that an invitation for some freaky shit? cuz i like where we are now."

"gross!" you lean back as far as possible.

"i knowwww," he's undeterred by your snappiness, "seriously," he tries, "what else are you doing tonight, huh?" and you wonder why he's getting closer as your neck protests, "don’t tell me," there's a lilt to his voice you don’t trust, "you afraid you can't handle me?"

"is sexual harassment on your daily agenda?" you bite.

he moves away slightly, looking perplexed, as if you’ve given the world's toughest question. his posture becomes defensively slouched. a frown pushes his brows together and for once, the smooth talker has no quip or response.

you’re not one to look a gifted horse in the mouth and scramble.

"hey, hey, you didn’t answer!” he calls out, rushing after you, "hey! kami-chan, where'd your manners go? i need a clear answer."

damn pride. damn self-respect. you’re fleeing.

gojo doesn't let you get away that easy. your path to sanctuary is obstructed again as gojo halts you by plucking at your shoulder. you shake yourself off like a wet cat and bail. yes, you’ve resorted to running, but your room is just within reach.

"why are you running?!" his whine echoes down the empty hall, "answer the question!"

just a bit more and-

he catches up with you and hauls you up by the armpits, spinning, laughing. you squirm, and there goes your drink, your damned, tasty drink. all his antics have been on the short side, but he's never done this before: cradle you against himself, as if he was going to play catch with you.

"let go, creep!"

"creep?!" his voice is scandalized but still mirthful, "for all my gentlemanliness, huh?!"

he tosses you and you can barely right yourself with a solid landing. that's new too, the physical handling. why today of all days has he decided to pick your fights with his hands? does it make you less immune? why are you wondering? you should be running.

"and anyways, where'd your manners go huh, huh, hu-uh? no thank you when a nice gentlemanly guy takes the time of his day, the greatest guy, the-"

you might go insane. actually snap and go coo coo coconuts. kill everyone. this might be the beginning of your villain origin story. your personal vendetta to kill gojo satoru.

"seriously?!" he yells, and you open your eyes (you don’t remember closing them. it's probably a last resort sort of deal. if you can't see gojo, gojo isn’t real), and gojo's much, much, closer.

"would you mind-" you hiss.

"really," he chides, not an ounce of his good humor on his face, and you’re unable to tell if he's taunting or sincere, "all those classes you went to when you were little, and you still can't pay attention to the first thing a good guy says? do i have to spell out your obligations for you?!"

"would you kindly go fuck yourself and allow me to exist in peace?!" you shriek.

a door down the hall opens, and someone, maybe a fellow student or maybe a teacher or maybe someone unrelated all together, pops their head out the crack of their bedroom. you see this in slow-motion, watch a silhouette tilt their head and stare. it's so stupid it could be considered a scene from a comedy.

"would you two keep it the hell down already!?" your would-be-rescuer screams.

gojo glances to the side, unbothered but maybe curious. you run. before gojo can pick up his wits, you slam the door to your room open, lock it, and even fumble a deadbolt for added assurance. your room is dark save for a nightlight plugged into the corner.

your legs are shaking. you feel like throwing up. you’ve never been so terrified in your entire life.

the news reaches you via a text from shoko a good few hours later. gojo goes on the mission alone.

'please die please die please die please die,' you pray.

he returns an hour later, unharmed and cheery.

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squoxle · 4 months ago

Note

pls write a jay dad au and wife😔🙏🏻

Well, since you asked so nicely...how about we start your day with a little...

Coffee After Sex ~ P.JS

☕︎ pairing: soft dom!husband!jay x sub!wife!reader | ☕︎ wc: 3.3k | ☕︎ plot: after a recent job promotion, you have been spending less and less time with your husband. | ☕︎ cw: 🔞MDNI!! this fic contains a combo of smut, fluff, crack, and angst with a hot cup of coffee in the morning.

The feeling of Jay's breath on your neck sent chills up your spine as he left soft, wet kisses along your neck.

You felt his warmth against your body, a sensation you had missed for far too long.

Nothing could take the place of him at this moment.

Nothing...except for the fact that this was all a dream and Jay had left you alone in bed hours ago. You looked over to the spot where he laid next to you and brushed your hand across the cool, empty space.

You pulled his pillow to your chest as you laid in silence, the delicate rays from the sun peeked through the blinds hidden behind the floor-length white curtains. Tears rolled down the side of your face, wetting the pillow slightly as sweet thoughts of him flashed through your mind.

You thought back to the last time you took a family vacation, the twins were a little younger at that time, but you still had fun playing in the sparkling beach sand. You rolled onto your back, looking up at the ceiling before climbing out of bed.

The cold floorboards kissed your feet as you walked to a pair of fluffy slippers. A lot of times it was easier to just keep yourself busy, focusing on the present rather than going into a mini depressive state. But you couldn't help it, you missed his laugh, his smile, the smell of him cooking breakfast on the weekends, and the way he'd come up behind you and kiss you randomly...some of the many things you loved about him.

Recently your husband's work schedule has been a lot busier than usual. He left earlier in the morning and came home even later.

You'd hope to spend some time with him on the weekends, but it was hard to balance everything with the twins and all of the other things you had to do around the house. Plus, he spent most of the day in the home office anyway. And by the time he came home in the evening, you were already in bed.

But what could you do about it? "This'll just be for a little while and then everything will be back to normal," you thought back to what Jay told you when he first took this promotion. His fingers gliding across the side of your face, brushing the hair behind your ear as your head hung low. He lifted your chin gently to meet your eyes before delicately kissing your lips.

A little while...a lot of times his absence made you feel like a single mom, but you had to stay positive. If not for you, for the kids. Seeing their mom sulking all day wouldn't do them any good.

Today you took the kids out for a trip to the library and picked up a few books before walking over to the nearby park. You sat on the bench and watched them play around together, chasing each other in a game of tag before taking turns pushing one another on the swings.

You saw Jay sit on one of the swings as the twins took turns pushing him. "Argh! You're too heavy, Daddy," your daughter sighed.

"You're just too weak," your son teased, giggling slightly as his sister puffed her cheeks.

"I am not!" she spat. "Watch," she grunted as she pushed with all of her might. Jay used his legs to swing a little higher. "See?" she smiled, tilting her head to the side as she placed her hands on her hips. "Told ya."

"No, I saw Dad use his legs," Jay burst into laughter noticing that his son had picked up on that detail.

"No, he didn't," she shook her head. "Did you Daddy?"

"No, you're just really strong," he chuckled as he swung back and forth.

"He's lying," your son said plainly, folding his arms as his sister stomped over to him, careful not to get hit by the swing.

"Okay," she huffed. "I'll show you how strong I am," she raised her fist at her brother.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," he squeezed his fists together, cracking his knuckles.

"Woah, woah, guys calm down," Jay stopped the swing, breaking up the two. "Don't hit your brother, baby," Jay kneeled down to meet her gaze.

"Nah nah," your son poked his tongue out.

"But he just--" she started as Jay cut her off.

"Leave your sister alone. And we don't hit girls in this family, okay," he patted his son's shoulder. "How about I push the both of you? There're two swings."

"No, we wanna push you," they said in unison.

"Well, you gotta play nice, alright," he exchanged looks between the two.

"Okay~" they smiled before running behind him.

"You can push him first and then me, okay," your son said, making a deal with his sister.

"Okay," she smiled. "Hurry up, daddy. Sit down," she jumped excitedly as Jay sat down, waiting to be pushed.

Their little grunts mixed with his laughter caused your nose to tingle as tears gathered at your waterline. It was as if you could see Jay everywhere, but it was all just your imagination trying to fill that void for you.

You used the back of your hand to wipe away the wetness from your eyes before walking over to join the kids in whatever game they were playing.

After a busy day, you finally had the chance to relax after laying the kids down for bed. You ended up reading two of the books you picked up earlier since they couldn't decide on one. You flicked on the carousel nightlight before walking out of the room, leaving the door cracked enough that you could peek in and check on them without disturbing them.

Your husband, Jay, had texted you around lunchtime that he would be working late again tonight, but he'd try to get home as soon as possible.

This had been going on for the past few months and you were starting to miss him more than ever, but you didn't want to stress him out with your feelings so this was something you kept to yourself.

You went over a mental checklist to make sure you took care of everything before getting ready for a bath. You walked to the kitchen and opened the fridge to double-check that you packed a lunch box for Jay before switching off all of the lights and heading back to your room.

You started the bathwater as you shuffled through your drawers to pull out an oversized T-shirt. You climbed into the warm water and thought back to your dream from this morning.

You wished you could spend more time with him like you used to. Wished he could be sitting behind you right now with his arms wrapped around you, kissing your shoulder, and playing with the bubbles that floated on top of the water.

You rested your head on the cool, smooth, acrylic outer surface of the bathtub as music played through your headphones. You closed your eyes and drifted away in your mind as you felt a set of lips leave a kiss on your cheek.

"Jay?" you thought to yourself. You opened your eyes and turned around in the water to see nothing but your king-sized bed peeking through the door. "Must my mind playing tricks on me again," you sighed as you turned around to lay your head back down.

Soon after you zoned out in your music, you felt a hand glide along the side of your face. This time you felt kisses trail from your cheek down to your shoulder. You opened your eyes to see Jay hovering over you.

He was wearing his black work slacks and a plain white tee. You felt his warm hands press into the soft, moist skin on your shoulders. “Hope you don’t mind if I join,” he smirked as you turned around.

“Not at all,” you smiled back, watching as he undressed himself.

“Don’t think you’re getting this show for free,” he chuckled. “A view like this can be pretty pricey y’know?”

“I’m sure I can afford it,” you giggled back.

You loved how your husband liked to joke around here and there. This was one aspect about his personality that made you fall for him in the first place.

You turned off your phone and reached over to place it on the countertop near the sink. Bubbles covered the lower half of your body, but the silhouette was still very visible.

“Nice ass,” Jay smiled as he eyed your naked body. He was only wearing his boxers now, the rest of his clothes were kicked in a corner and balled up.

You shook your head in response as he stepped into the bath water. “C’mere,” he mumbled under his breath as he pulled you close. It was quiet for a moment as you laid against his slightly wet skin before reality set in.

“What’s with the sudden change of attitude? You’ve been so quiet lately,” you toyed with the wedding band around his finger as you laid between his legs.

“I missed my wife,” he said softly, pulling your hand to his lips as he kissed your knuckles. “And my kids.”

“Hmm, well we missed you too,” you hummed.

You listened to the deep, rhythmic beats of his heart as you rested your head against him. Aside from the warmth of the water, you missed the feeling of being wrapped in his arms.

Were you finally getting what you’d been waiting months for? To feel the strong embrace of your husband and the comfort that came with it? Whatever it was, you wanted to enjoy every last second of it.

You felt his breath on your neck as he rested his chin in the crevice of your shoulder. "Hey!" you exclaimed as you felt his fingers rub against your clit. He giggled at your reaction.

"Has it really been so long that my touch surprises you," he mumbled in between kisses.

"No, I just--"

"I'm kidding," he chuckled. "I'd be shocked if you touched me like that too."

A playful smirk grew across your face as you grinded your ass against him, the gentle sounds of the water matching the movements of your body. He groaned slightly as you stimulated him. "Are you shocked yet," you whispered, looking over your shoulder as you met his lustful gaze.

"Almost," he smiled, kissing your lips again. "I wanna see what else you can do," he bit your lower lip before you turned around to face him. He raised his knees up to get a little more comfortable as his back pressed up against the walls of the tub.

You straddled his wet body, the water level at your waist as you leaned over his shoulder. He pulled you closer as he lined his tip up with your opening. You slowly lowered down, taking in every inch as he held you by the waist.

The strokes were slow, but this gave you the chance to watch his facial expression contort as you bounced up and down. You teased his cock as you paused randomly, flashing him a playfully seductive glare.

"Are you gonna be a tease the whole time or are you gonna fuck me like a good girl?" he cooed. "I thought you liked it when I played with you like that," you tilted your head to the side as his lips turned into a smirk. He winced, sucking air through his teeth as you circled your hips around his tip. You pressed your hands into his shoulders as you plopped back down on him, filling yourself with his cock.

The water rocked with your hips, matching your movements, filling the room with its delicate splashing sounds. "Mmm, I do but," he moaned as you took this as an opportunity to pick up the pace.

"But what, baby?" you huffed. "But, I wanna fuck you so badly right now," he groaned. "You'll get your turn," you smiled. "I wanna have a little more fun like this," he hummed as you said these words, you could feel the desperation increase with every movement.

You listened as soft, sweet moans escaped his lips while you rode him. Every so often you would hit his good spot, causing him to throw his head back and lift his hips up slightly to buck into you.

His breathing quickened and began more ragged as you changed the speed and movements of your body. He felt your pussy tighten around him as you both came closer to your highs. You leaned back slightly, bracing yourself against his raised knees as he pressed into your lower stomach.

You felt his thumbs pushing hard into your soft flesh as you nearly toppled over. The overwhelming and increased sensation of dick sent you into a mode of overstimulation as you humped faster. Matching your energy, Jay raised his hips to pump deeper into you as muffled screams hid behind your hand.

You knew you had to stay quiet because you had a habit of getting carried away with the noise. "I've had enough of this," Jay huffed, guiding you off of him as he leaned you over the edge of the tub. You held your position with your palms as your tits pressed into the coolness of the acrylic layer.

You leaned your head across your hands as you waited for him. You were facing the door as you heard the sounds of him moving behind you. Your eyes jumped open as he spread your legs apart. You felt the top of his head bump into your stomach before the feeling of his tongue lapping at your entrance overwhelmed your senses.

"Ngh!" you yelped, in this position it was a little harder to cover your mouth so you just stuffed your face into the fold of your arms. "Ahh!" you gasped as he jammed his fingers into you, coating them in your juices as continued eating you out.

He finger fucked you faster as you leaned more and more over the edge. You were struggling to stay in one spot as he gripped onto your ass, holding you in place as nearly came right on his face. You caught your breath as he ripped his fingers out and climbed out from between your legs.

"I want you to finish with my cum inside of you," he hummed as he lined up behind you. You moaned, faced still stuffed into your arms, as he slammed his dick into you. "Already tightening up?" he cooed as he felt your entrance had tightened up slightly compared to earlier.

"It's my turn now," he hummed, grabbing a handful of your hair in his hand before pulling your head back to face him. "Look at me while I fuck you," he groaned as one hand wrapped around the base of your chin, squeezing your lips together.

You panted breathlessly as fucked into you harder. "Who's pussy is this," he smacked your ass as you moaned with his touch. "Say it," he pushed, taking his free hand to rub your clit. Your body trembled in his grasp "You better say something or I'll stop right now," he huffed.

"It's yours," you yelped. "It's yours, baby," you whined in a shaky voice before he sucked your lips in for a rough kiss.

"Good girl," he grunted as he pushed your head down. You felt his hips smacking into your ass as he groaned in pleasure. He kept up the pace until finally spilling his seed inside of you.

The two of you laid there breathless, panting with your wet bodies, both from sweat and the water that swayed beneath you. It wasn't long before you climbed out of the tub and went straight to bed, naked and slightly damp, especially Jay's hair which got wet when he ate you out.

As much as you enjoyed that little surprise with Jay, you hated the feeling that came over you once he finally fell asleep. You looked over his features, lightly touching his face as you thought about how he'd be gone in the morning...just like always.

Your husband was starting to feel like another part of your imagination, every good moment being tainted by the feeling of abandonment. You closed your eyes looking at him with tears in your eyes as you drifted off to sleep.

Your eyes fluttered open as the colors of the sun danced across your bedroom floor. As usual, you woke up to see the covers pushed back on his side, reminding you that you were alone again. You sat up before swinging your legs over the edge of the bed. You slipped into a pair of panties from your top drawer before pulling a dress over your head and sliding into your slippers.

Interrupting your senses, was the smell of breakfast. You stopped as your hand wrapped around the bedroom doorknob, you listened as the sounds of hushed giggles and food sizzling filled the air around you.

You hoped with everything in your body that this wasn't your mind playing tricks on you again, you weren't sure how much more you could take. But when you opened the door to see the kids huddled over the countertop as Jay swirled a skillet on the stove, you had to blink a few times before realizing that this was really happening.

You slowly walked into the kitchen as Jay welcomed you with a smile. "Good morning, Mommy!" your kids smiled in unison.

"Morning," you waved as you walked over to them, planting a kiss on each of their heads. "What's all of this?"

"We're helping, Dad make breakfast," your son smiled. "I made your coffee."

"I put all the stuff on the pancakes," your daughter chimed in as Jay placed the eggs and bacon on the place.

"Yeah, but you didn't make them," her brother teased.

"I made one," she huffed.

"And where is it now, huh? Oh, that's right, in the trash," he giggled.

"Well, you put salt in the first cup you made for mom. So now who sucks," she poked her tongue out.

"Calm down you guys, you both did a great job. Especially for your first time," Jay smiled as he came behind them, patting them both on the shoulder before coming over to kiss you on the cheek. "We were gonna surprise you in bed," he chuckled.

"Wait, Jay. Don't you have work today?"

"I did," he started as he walked over to the table, placing your breakfast down. "But I called in. I wanted to spend some time with my family today."

The kids climbed onto their barstool as Jay passed them their breakfast. "Thank you," they smiled before they started eating.

"Jay," you gasped. "You didn't have to do that. What if they needed you at work today?"

"Well, my family needs me more. Especially my wife," he tilted his head to the side as he sat down next to you. "This morning," he started in a hushed tone, "When I was about to get out of bed you grabbed my arm and said 'Please don't leave me again.' Your eyes were still closed so I knew you were sleeping, but there was no way in hell I could go to work after something like that."

He reached over to grab your hand, caressing the back as you lowered your head. "Sorry," you whispered quietly.

"Don't be sorry. If I hadn't been working so hard I would've noticed how this change was affecting you sooner. I already contacted my boss about another position and we'll see how it goes from there, but for now, let's enjoy this moment together. Just me, you, and the kids."

❀ Thak you all so much for reading! Make sure to check out other works on my masterlist!

❀ 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: @chlorinecake @mimikittysblog @nikisvanillaccola @wonbinisbabygurl @mrswolfhard3 @laylasbunbunny @sussyjake @furious-eagle @cherrriesss @abbyizzy @weyukinluv @addictedtohobi @thatonenoona @wavykook @givemeyourtmihyun @jaeljn @hoonmywk @valennshit @19-yunalyn @hoonbby @frostedblankets @hoonsyo @no-mannerism @perfectxserendipity @chubbibish @ihrtlix @bunniesforsoobin @thereadersparadise @thatbooknerdfr @aiden2001 @belongstoheeseung @jakeybabe @donut-crazs @rizzhee @nikimeows @woonieees @uarmyxtae @rebecca-johnson-28 @they2luv1naia @isa-2007 @silcry @riverscafe @pearlwhitesoul @nikohiroshi @thatbooknerdfr @wonniewonwon @sughoonieeee @babyy-bambii @adrika04 @sehunsharpasseyebrows @wtfyangjungwon @fr-3-akn-4-stymf @rikiloversworld @shawyle @sunoosrightbuttcheek @uarmyxtae @lovesickxmina @urfavberry @urauntiefaye @breadlover01 @taehyunsfavmoa

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bleedingoptimism · 7 months ago

Text

"I dreamt we had sex" Steve says out of nowhere, making Eddie choke and cough up a cloud of smoke from the joint that had just been handed to him.

"Wh- Huh?" is all he manages to say.

"It's stupid," Steve laughs not looking at him. Eddie deflates a little, but Steve keeps going, "Just as I was about to cum, I woke up," he says and then looks up at Eddie.

Who is blushing, very confused, and very horny.

"Do you know what that means?" Steve asks with a crooked smile.

Eddie shakes his head and sits up straight, dying to know the answer.

Steve's smile grows, "It means you are attracted to me" he declares.

And Eddie feels his blush intensify, he feels like he's been caught. Like he's being made fun of. He looks at his knees, where his hands are twisting the fabric of his sweats, and then looks up at Steve.

"It doesn't" he whispers in vain because it's obvious and too late to lie about now.

"Yes, yes, it does mean that," Steve whispers back, scooting closer on the couch they are sharing. His smile looks less amused and more kind now, soft and careful.

"I'm attracted to you," he says and Eddie's eyes go wide. He feels the heat coming off his face as Steve moves a little closer, hand going up to touch Eddie's red and hot cheek but stops a breath away, "And you are attracted to me but since you don't want to tell me," he pauses to smile because Eddie moves his face closer to Steve's hands, finally making contact and nuzzling into it, "You come into my dreams to tell me anyways."

☕🥐💕 coffee? dream stories?

#stranger things #steddie #short and sweet #i wrote something #steve harrington #eddie munson #the amount of game steve pulls on this one is off the charts #based on a french movie form the 2000s that i don't even remember

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matryosika · 2 years ago

Text

Hyung Line: Love Languages and Sex

Wordcount: 5,467 words.

Genre: Smut, partly head canons and scenarios.

Includes: SKZ Hyung Line members, female reader, brief discussion about food in Minho's scenario, curse words and dirty dialogues. Smut warnings below.

Author's note: Long time no see! I just randomly thought about this yesterday, and I had a couple of scenario/drabbles I wanted to write about regarding this topic so here they are. I thought about uploading them individually, but I don't know. I'm currently working in the second part of this, so yeah. Thought I would just put this out there for now. I hope you guys like it! Please remember that english isn't my first language and this is not proof-read so I apologize for any mistake in advance.

If you like this, please consider supporting me by reblogging, leaving a comment or sending me an ask. If you wish to support my work further, please consider buying me a coffee! ☕

Smut warnings (varies from scenario to scenario): Masturbation (f. receiving), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, squirting, praises, use of petnames, established relationship, foot massage (for Minho's part), public sex (for Changbin's scenario), body cumshot (for Hyunjin's scenario), vaginal penetrative sex, unprotected sex, implied creampie (for Changbin's scenario).

Chan: Acts of Service and Words of Affirmation

“One more?”

When you told Chan you were feeling stressed, you didn't exactly expect him to try and cheer you up like this —face buried in your sweet, throbbing cunt, and hands intertwined with yours. You have been going at it for hours on end, with no signs of Chan ever wanting to stop —not even after your third orgasm.

“Channie…” You want to tell him it's his turn, that you also want to make him feel good. That you need to help him releasing the tension between his legs, make him come just as much as he has made you tonight.

But you can’t even begin to deliver a coherent sentence, or at least not when his nose is applying the perfect amount of pressure to your clit while his tongue laps messily on your slit, his spit and your own wetness creating a sticky, awkward sensation that reminds you of all the time Chan had spent working on your cunt in the past hour or two.

“Mhm?” He knows you’re too fucked out you can’t even speak, but the devilish grin plastered on his face tells you that he wants to listen to you. Or at least your babbles. “What is it, baby?”

“Chan,” you latch your hands onto his dark locks, pulling them harshly and earning a hiss from him. “Chan, please!”

You don't have to tell him exactly what you want for him to know. The way you grind your hips against his face sells you out —Chan knows you need more than just his mouth, and he is more than happy to comply.

If you ask for it, of course.

“Greedy,” he laughs under his breath, a string of saliva connecting his lips to your cunt. “Come one more time for me, and I’ll consider giving you what you want”.

A fair exchange, you think. But when the ravages of over-stimulation start hitting you painfully than before, you highly doubt you can fulfill his plea.

“I can’t,” you gasp with shortness of breath, hands leaving Chan’s to clinge at the bedsheets underneath you. “Chan, fuck, wait!”

The last thing you want is for Chan to stop, but the words fall from your lips faster than you can process them. So he withdraws from your pussy and stares at you with half-lidded eyes, swollen lips and chin glistening with your arousal.

“No! Don’t- don’t stop, I’m sorry”.

You’re not making any sense, and he loves it.

“Am I hurting you?”

You shake your head eagerly, swallowing hard while you take advantage of the break to take a breath. “No, it’s just- I’m- I want to please you”.

Chan smiles.

“I have to take care of you first,” he mumbles, lips attached to flesh of your inner thighs. “Want to make you come enough until your mind is completely empty”.

“But I-”

“Tonight isn’t about me, okay?” he drags his words lazily, humming and slightly whimpering them when he rubs his nose yet again against your clit. “I need to make sure you’re not feeling stressed anymore”.

You plop down onto the bed again, hands gripping his curls while unconsciously bringing him closer to your core.

“See, I know you can come one more time,” Chan whispers against your pussy, two of his fingers spreading your folds while he coats them with your previous arousal, “you’re always good to me like that”.

You buck your hips when he unexpectedly thrusts his middle and ring finger inside you, walls welcoming and clenching around them so tightly Chan almosts come right in his pants.

“3 orgasms are not enough for someone like you, hm?” he fucks you delicately, enjoying the wet sounds your cunt makes every time he sinks his fingers inside you, “you still want more”.

You cover your face in shyness, only letting out small whimpers and moans every time he curls his fingers.

“Don’t,” his available hand, which he has underneath your right thigh and the curve of your ass, reaches out to pull both your arms, causing you to uncover your face, “I want to see you when I’m talking to you”.

He grabs both your wrists with his available hand, while the other works wonders on your cunt. From where you lay, the sight is heavenly —you can catch a glimpse of his flexed shoulders and back, along with his bare face and messy, dark curls. You could reach your fourth orgasm just by that alone, but Chan has other plans in mind.

“You’re so sweet,” he’s practically groaning his words, licking remains of your orgasms from his lips, “I don’t ever want to go a day without tasting you, ever”.

You moan at his words, heart racing faster than it was before. He has always had a way with words —ever since you two met, he has always known exactly what to say to have you at his feet, mercilessly.

“Channie,” you cry out loud, head falling back as your back arches in pleasure. “Chan!”

“Come on,” he drags his swollen lips against your hip bone and the side of your tummy, inhaling deeply the scent of your skin while the room is filled with wet, lewd noises, “I can feel you’re close, I know you can take one more”.

There’s no point in trying to hold back, so you start letting yourself go.

“All day I’ve been thinking about your sweet cunt,” the more he talks, the rougher he fucks you with his fingers and the closer you get to your release, “you’re all I fucking need. I don’t want anything else but you”.

You melt with love, tears threating to spill from the corners of your eyes. There’s something enticing about the contrast between his words and his touch, how he can say the sweetest, purest and loving things while his fingers keep on fucking your pussy with no tenderness, exactly how you like it.

“I just want to show you off to everyone,” Chan continues, feeling the wetness around his fingers starting to increase, word by word. “Want to tell everyone how pretty you look like this, how proud I am to have you with me”.

“F-fuck,” you’re coming, he can tell. The way your eyes are rolling to the back of your head, and your hips spasm against his hand sells you out.

“That’s it,” he moans, the raspiness of his voice sending shivers down your spine. “Give it to me, I know you can”.

He continues fucking your cunt through your orgasm, not daring to stop even when drops of your arousal wet his hand and bed.

“Stay still, baby,” with his available arm, he holds you down and pins you against the bed, preventing you from closing your legs or get away from his touch, “make a mess, I want to lick it clean”.

Minho: Acts of Service and Physical Touch

Minho is naturally a giver.

Sure, he does love being on the receiving end from time to time, but really nothing gratifies him more than taking care of you, in every way you should be taken care of.

Whether it’s taking a chore off your hands when you’re exhausted, running an errand to save you time on a busy day, or picking up take out and medicine when you’re feeling down, one of Minho’s ways to show you love it’s by performing acts of services.

Hence that, you’re not surprised to come home tonight with a full home-cooked dinner, with dessert and all.

“Hope you’re starving,” your boyfriend welcomes you, still wearing an apron on top of his work outfit. Black, formal pants and a white shirt with rolled sleeves, “It’s your favorite, by the way”.

Earlier today, he called you to ask you for a quick grocery shopping list, in case you had some things missing from your fridge. Apparently, he was going to be released early from work, so he had some spare time before meeting you at your place and he could stop by for the things you needed..

“My head is all over the place,” you admitted, hands brushing through your hair in frustration, “I’m sorry Min, I completely forgot to leave the grocery list you told me. And I’m not even sure what’s missing- probably the whole fucking fridge is empty”.

He could tell how busy and exhausted you had been over the past few weeks, so he came up with a plan.

“I can come to your place and do the list myself,” he proposed by the phone. “Then I’ll go to the supermarket and pick the food and stuff you need, yeah? I’ll return to your place at night, and we can unwind together. Is that okay?”

You thanked him, probably a million times, before hanging up and going through with your day.

When he sits at the table with you, you finally get a taste of the dish. As expected, is more than just delicious. It’s a whole fucking experience, especially because it was made just for you.

You two eat together and help each other cleaning the kitchen afterwards. When you're done, with a comfy outfit and while having another glass of red wine, Minho suggests he does a massage on you because you look tense.

“What a nice, elegant sex proposal,” you laugh, extending your legs on top of his while you are sitting in the couch.

“I never said anything about sex,” Minho tiltes his head, the tip of his digits grazing against your skin. “So who’s proposing that to who?”

“You know, I could use a massage,” you leave the glass of wine on top of the coffee table, and let your body slowly slide into the couch. “I’m not sure about the sex part. I don’t know if I could ride you with how fucking sore my legs are, but I can make it up to you during the weekend”.

Minho laughs, a genuine, heart-warming laugh.

“We don’t have to fuck tonight,” his hands and digits trail an immaginary path from your feet, to your ankles, to your knees and inner thighs. The touch is enough to get you wet, and you curse him mentally for that, “but I still want to make you come, at least once”.

Sometimes, you really can't begin to comprehend how Minho is all that. Attractive, smart, hard-working and just… perfect in every aspect, including sex.

“I’m so embarrassed,” you admit, moaning softly when his hands start working on the soles of your feet. It’s certainly not a massage massage, but rather a compilation of soft and lustful touches, “I really want to make things up to you but I’m a mess right now, there’s a lot going on at work and-”

“Hey,” he interrupts you, caressing the sides of your feet while working on them. “I’m not complaining nor asking for anything in return, am I?”

He isn’t.

And he is also not the type to expect some sort of payment for a favor.

Minho loves like that¸ without expecting absolutely nothing in return except for your satisfacion.

“But-”

“Am I?”

“No,” you softly reply, more as a whimper than an actual response. He is still massaging your feet and ankles, slowly growing harder at the series of moans and hisses you’re letting out.

“Why don’t you tell me where you keep your vibrator?” You love how it’s a casual question, how you no longer grow timid when he asks stuff like that. You are a couple, and he knows way more about you and your private life than anyone else. “Let’s put it to use tonight, hm?”

“Nightstand, second drawer,” you immediately sigh, losing the warmth of his body when he stands up from the couch to go to said location —the nightstand, second drawer.

He comes back not even 2 minutes later, holding the hot pink item to his hand. He sits right next to you, inviting you to spread your legs for him while he pushes your underwear and pijama shorts to the side.

A proud smile peeps out of the corners of his lips, knowing he did absolutely nothing but you’re still dripping wet, underwear and clothes sticking to your folds.

“You weren’t sure about the sex part?” he hums in content, caressing your slit with the tip of the toy. “Honey, you’re body is begging for me to fuck it”.

You arch your back unexpectedly when he turns on the toy, digging it further against your clit. He motions for you to take care of the toy, guiding your wrist to it in order to have both of his hands free and available to caress you, grope you and kiss you as he pleases.

“It’s really good,” you moan, masturbating for him while his hands reach out to your breasts, massaging them and pinching your nipples. “It’s not as good as your cock, but it does the task. I should get a better toy”.

Minho laughs against your skin, tongue latched to one of your hardened buds. His right hand wanders along the side of your body, caressing your waist, hips and thighs as much as he wants.

“You know nothing compares to me,” Minho whimpers against your skin, his hips grinding ever so slightly against your spread thighs. “But it’s cute that you’re still willing to try and find something that could compete against me”.

You bury your right hand onto his dark hair, pulling him closer to you, if possible, while your left hand holds the wand against your cunt.

The more he touches you and kisses you, the closer you get to your orgasm. And pathetically close, at that, since you’ve only been doing this for roughly 3 minutes.

“You have no idea how much I’ve missed your body these days,” Minho groans, peppering kisses on your chest and neck while his hand sneaks between your ass and the couch. He squeezes and gropes it harshly, making you move your hips a bit up to give him better access. “Just want to cover it all with my kisses, lick it and touch it how you like it”.

Minho buries his face on your neck, and starts kissing your skin sloppily while his right hand is still groping your body. He doesn’t care about being messy —in fact, that’s exactly what he is going for tonight.

“Don’t stop,” you babble, grinding your hips against the toy while Minho’s lips and hands are all over you. “Don’t stop, Min, please, don’t-”

When you’re just a second away from your arousal, Minho places his hand on top of yours and presses the vibrator against your clit more, forcing you to orgasm faster. “Don’t worry,” he groans near your ear, face still buried in the crook of your neck, “I won’t stop until you’re satisfied”.

Changbin: Words of Affirmation and Gifts

“What do you think?”

Changbin has to take a full minute in order to arrange his own thoughts. If he had to say what he actually thinks of that dress, he would earn a couple of disgusted faces from the rest of the people at the boutique.

“Good,” it’s all he manages to say, slyly leaning forward to hide his bulge, “let me pay for it and let’s go home”.

“I’m still not done, though,” there’s a bunch of clothes you wish to try, and you know that doesn’t impatient Changbin –he is a great shopping partner. But judged by his lustful gaze, you think he has changed his plans, “I’ll be quick, I promise”.

He isn’t mad, nor wants to rush you, but Changbin wonders how long it’s going to take for him to lose his sanity before he gets to fuck you in the very same dress you just tried on. It hugs your body just right, allowing you to show just the right amount of skin to drive him crazy.

“Shit, I don’t know about this one,” you murmur from inside, just a long curtain separating you from Changbin, who is currently sitting at a small couch placed strategically in front of the fitting rooms, “I don’t think this is my size”.

Before he could ponder the situation, the pros and cons of demanding a small, modeling catwalk from you, he asks you to show the dress to him.

“It’s too tight,” you complain, struggling to zip it up, “one wrong move and I- I’m going to flash everyone in here”.

“Let me see it,” he asks again, impatiently looking forward to watching the curtain slide back, revealing you.

“I don’t- I look weird,” the dress is not your style, nor it’s something you would wear out on any occasion. You thought it would be fun to try it on, see if you could get out of your comfort zone, but it escalated too quick. “It’s too much, it barely covers anything”.

It’s not intentional, but you’re practically edging Changbin with your words. The longer you drag it out, the whiner he gets.

“Alright, alright,” you finally exhale, your hand pushing the curtain separating you from his gaze out of the way, “but don’t fucking say anything”.

Even if he wanted to say something, he can’t even speak. His throat is dry, aching just as much as the throbbing pressure between his legs that demands for his whole attention.

After some excruciating, awkward moments in silence, you speak again.

“Okay, say something,” the lack of words from him is making you feel unsteady, because he is just staring right at you quietly. You can’t possibly now what’s going on in his mind. “I told you it doesn’t fit and it is too damn expensive, and the fabric is -”.

“Get that one too,” it’s not a question, nor an advice –it’s an order.

“It’s too exp-”

“I don’t care,” the pent up tension is making it seem as if he’s angry, but you know he isn’t –he is just too damn horny, and needy, and desperate to get home and fuck you in every position possible.

“Alright,” you nod, feeling your heart skipping a beat when Changbin’s intimidating gaze falls up on you, basically begging for you to be done. “I’ll just… take it off and we can- go home, yeah?”

You go back to the fitting room with a wet sensation between your legs, feeling your folds sticking to your underwear while you relentlessly try to take the dress off. It had been hard to put it on, but you underestimated how difficult it was going to be to take it off on your own.

“Bin?” you ask, “is someone there who… could help me?”

Changbin looks around, but there’s no one other than him. Not even the lady who manages the changing room and checks which clothes people are trying on is there.

“There’s no one here,” the dark-haired replies, standing from the couch with more confidence now that he knows no one can spot the bulge in his pants, “what do you need?”

You shyly push the curtains to the side yet again, revealing the now messy dress after your failed attempt to take it off. “Can you help me?”

You turn around, putting the back zipper on display for him. It’s rather an easy task, he just needs to pull it down.

But how easy can it be when all he can pay attention to is your ass, and how good it looks underneath that tight dress? The clothes are so tight he can catch a glimpse of the silhouette of your underwear, buried in the flesh of your arse.

“Please?”

He doesn’t helps you unziping it and, instead, pushes you inside the fitting room again, closing the curtain behind him as he is sure the area is completely empty, except for the two of you.

“I can’t,” he breathes, turning you around so that your hands lay on his chest. “I don’t want you to take it off”.

“I have to if you want to buy it for me, silly,” you’re teasing him, acting oblivious to his sudden reaction. “Quick, don’t want anyone to catch us together in here”.

“I want to fuck you while you’re wearing it,” he confesses, his lips so close to yours you can actually feel his breath caressing your chin. “I want to fuck you right here, so you can see how pretty you look”.

You would be lying if you said you’re not turned on, not even in the slightest. But your hardened nipples and wet underwear speak louder than you can.

“Please,” he begs, hands moving slowly from your waist to your ass, groping it while pulling you closer to him. “Please let me fuck you”.

The more he pulls you towards him, the more you can feel his throbbing, hard cock against your body. You are probably going to regret your decision, but you still give in.

You need him more than he does.

“If someone catches us…”

“They won’t,” Changbin groans, lifting your dress up with one hand while the other unbuckles his pants with a swift motion, “just keep your pretty mouth shut and I’ll take care of the rest, yeah?”

It seems like he isn't asking for a lot, but he is. How can you possibly keep your mouth shut when his raw cock is about to stretch your pussy?

He turns you around, your palms resting on the wall for support while his nimble hands place you in the perfect position for him: back arched, ass up and legs open. Really, how can you possibly keep your mouth shut when the tip of his thick cock slides against your slit?

He knows time is running out, so he doesn’t waste it –he sinks his hips against yours delicately, only to pick up the pace when he feels you getting used to his cock.

“You drive me fucking insane,” he groans against your shoulders, leaving wet, sloppy pecks that soon turn into love bites. “You’re just- too pretty- can’t keep my hands off of you”.

You moan at his words, sounds that are quickly muffled by one of his hands against your mouth.

“So- fucking beautiful,” his words come out choppy, but he manages to keep the volume of his voice down, unlike you. “You're just too good to be real and mine”.

The sound of your muffled whines, Changbin’s soft groans, skin hitting skin and the wetness of your cunt around his cock is what fills the whole fitting room. You’re wondering if someone can hear you two, but you really don’t care anymore.

“You’re so tight,” he can’t get himself to stop. The urge to praise you and compliment you is the exactly the same as coming inside you, he is really desperate for both and judged by the way you squeeze his dick everytime he speaks, he knows you like it too. “Perfectly made for my cock”.

The rougher he pounds himself inside you, the more you lose balance and control of your own body. Your cheek is against the wall, your weak arms barely doing anything to support your body, but his grip around you is what keeps you stable.

“I’m going to fill you up, yeah?” he is not that far from his arousal, and neither are you. “I want to show you how much I love you”.

You nod eagerly against his palm, drooling all over it. One of your hands leave the wall to rub your clit, the new stimulation provided pushing you to the edge.

“Come with me, pretty,” he pants, barely speaking with shortness of breath. “Give it to me, let me know how much you love the way I fuck you”.

His words have never failed to make you lose it. Not even once.

Hyunjin: Physical Touch and Gifts

You’re his muse.

You have been since the day he met you, since the very first time he laid his eyes on you.

Whether it’s for a poem, a drawing, a painting or a sculpture, you’re exactly where he finds his inspiration at. Hyunjin would rather die than looking at someone else, would rather stop making art before immortalizing another body that isn’t yours.

And besides being his muse, you’re also his lover. His partner, his accomplice, his everything. He trusts you more than he trusts himself, cares about you more than anything else. He wants to share all of himself with you, from his anger and sadness to the things he can’t say out loud, his filthy desires that he knows only you understand.

To be honest, you share a lot of the same. Especially your preferences, like and dislikes.

“Isn’t it pretty?”

A set of laced lingerie, your favorite color.

“What’s the occasion?” you ask him perplexed, carefully folding the wrap around it.

“Saw it on my way back to your apartment,” he is standing right in front of you, smiling softly at your excitement. “I thought you were going to like it, so I just couldn’t not buy it for you. It’s too pretty for you not to have it”.

Hyunjin is like that, always.

If he sees something he thinks you’d like, or if there’s something he wants you to have, he buys it and gives it to you as a gift. There doesn’t need to be a special occasion for Hyunjin to shower you with gifts —whether it’s a painting of yourself, a small hand-made bracelet, a new coffee mug or a whole expensive set of lingerie, Hyunjin always makes sure to get to your apartment with his hands full.

“I love it,” you reassure him, your fingertips tracing the lace of the underwear. “I’m going to try it on for you”.

He smiles widely, his eyes turning into crescent moons when his muse promises such a thing —he’ll get to see it on you, on your naked skin that always tempts him into touching it.

You come back faster than he expected you, only wearing the set of lingerie and nothing more.

“Oh,” it’s all he manages to say, his body freezing in its place.

“It looks good, hm?”

Hyunjin makes a mental note to go back to that place and buy all sets of lingerie available just to gift them to you, as soon as possible.

“You’re a fucking goddess”.

His compliment gets you shy, but you still walk towards him as he is sitting on the edge of your bed. Right next to him you spot some of his arts supplies –a sketch notebook and some other utensils.

“You want to draw me?” you ask him with a smile and the warmest tone of voice. Like pure honey and sugar.

“I wanted to,” Hyunjin murmured, looking up to you, “but I’ve changed my mind”.

“Why so?”

The position you two are at is perfect for Hyunjin to embrace your body –you’re standing right in front of him, between his spread legs. His mouth is at the level of your torso, and his hands can explore your whole body easily.

“I just want to admire you,” he sighed, leaving a single, quick kiss on your tummy. “Kiss you and touch you, remind myself that you’re all mine”.

You giggle softly while latching his fingers to his hair, something that earns you a subtle moan from him.

“You know I’m yours,” you sigh when his mouth and tongue becomes bold, licking and nibbling at your flesh while his hands caress the sides of your body, “don’t need to remind yourself something you already know”.

“Sometimes I can’t believe it,” Hyunjin whispers, grazing his plump lips against the lace fabric of your underwear, “that you belong to me”.

You arch your back slightly when his tongue licks a trail from your pubis towards your chest, the trace of his saliva looking better than any texture or color Hyunjin could paint, ever.

“I do,” every time it gets harder to hold your sighs and moans, his skilled mouth making you feel impatient for his touch, even when he is all over you. “I belong to you. I’ve been yours ever since the day I met you”.

He inhales deeply the scent of your skin, the way the tip of his nose brushes against you sending shivers down your spine.

“Let me mark you,” Hyunjin whispers, doe eyes staring up, right at you. “Don’t need that sketchbook when I have your body like this”.

He guides his lips to the side of your hips, nibbling at the skin and sucking somewhat harshly, only stopping to soothe the skin with soft kisses and kitten licks.

“You’re going to cover me all in love bites?”

“If you allow me to,” Hyunjin smiles, admiring the print of his teeth against your skin. “I want everyone to know you’re all mine, in every way possible”.

He guides his hands from your ass to your lower back as he stands up, pressing his body against yours.

“I want you to fuck me,” you whisper, hooking your arms against his neck. Your touch makes him shiver, but he conceals it well. “Please?”

You don’t have to tell him twice before he is already laying with you on his bed, taking his clothes off on the way.

“Can you leave this on?” he asks you when you’re about to unhook the top part of the underwear. The idea of getting to fuck you in something he gifted you is riling him up, so he prays for you to agree. “Want to come all over it, so everytime you wear it you can remember me”.

You just smile and nod, impatient to feel him deep inside you.

“You’re so warm,” Hyunjin hisses when his fingers push the lace underwear to the side, revealing how ruined they already are. “So fucking slippery”.

“I’m always like this when I’m with you,” you admit, “especially when you have your hands all over me. It drives me insane”.

You’re both more than ready for each other, as usual. It’s a magical thing, how it only takes you a few words, touches and gazes to receive each other’s body.

“Relax for me,” he whispers when the tip of his cock stretches your entrance, “like that”.

He holds your hand and you squeeze it hard as he enters you, sinking it into the mattress right next to your head.

“Shit,” a gasp escapes your lips when he bottoms out. And, slowly, he pulls away only to repeat the same movements of his hips against yours, “so- good”.

Hyunjin leans down to kiss your forehead, and then your cheek. He then finds your lips, and synchronizes the brushes of his tongue with the thrusts of his hips.

“Faster,” you plea when he releases your lips to let out a quiet whimper, pressing his forehead against yours while his body moves on their own. “Fuck me faster, Hyunjin”.

And so he does. All to satisfy you.

Every time he bottoms out, his pubis brushes against your clit and gives you the much needed stimulation to reach your climax, so you’re getting closer every time he slams himself inside you.

Hyunjin notices it, by the way your walls clench around him, so he continues steady with his movements. He hasn’t let go of your hand and he doesn’t plan to –he loves feeling you squeeze it, telling him with your touch what you can’t put into words.

“Hyune-”

“I know,” he groans quietly with shortness of breath, “let yourself go, I’m right here”.

Your orgasm hits you right when your gazes meet, and Hyunjin can feel it from how wet and slippery you’ve become, and how hard it is to maintain a steady pace when your hips are practically begging for his release.

“Come on,” he encourages you, not wanting to pull out before fucking you through your high, “give it to me”.

You arch your back and let go of his hand to hook both of your arms around his neck, violently trembling against his body while trying to get away from the stimulation he is providing you with.

But only after you’re done he does so, with a swift movement he pulls away from you and strokes his cock two or three times before coming all over your body, the set of lingerie getting paint with his orgasm.

And as he jerks of the remain of his high on top of you, Hyunjin realizes no painting he has ever gifted you has done you any justice.

#stray kids smut #skz smut #kpop smut #bangchan smut #minho smut #hyunjin smut #changbin smut

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zepskies · 8 months ago

Text

A Little Danger

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus-sized!Reader (Latina)

Summary: While relaxing together in the bunker, Dean takes your playful teasing to a new level. (And he’s too horny to care about the consequences.)

AN: Couch sex, basically. This is another one for the Espresso-verse! Includes a call back to Devour Me.

Word Count: 2K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Smutty smut in a semi-public place. Hair pulling, flirty teasing, endearments, “twist” ending.

Start from the beginning of the series: ⤵️

☕ Midnight Espresso Masterlist

Usually, Dean likes the feeling of your fingers running through his hair.

Like now, on a rare day of quiet relaxation after a long hunt. When Mary’s out and Sam’s on a grocery run. And Dean’s laid out across the couch in the library, arms crossed, earbuds in while Zeppelin’s “Going to California” plays in stereo, his head and shoulders resting against your plush thigh.

Your feet are propped up on the coffee table, your mostly bare legs crossed at the ankles. You have a book in one hand while you’ve been absently massaging his head…

But when you start to get weary of reading, in your boredom, your clever fingers become less soothing through his light brown hair, and more playful in their ministrations. You start to push his hair in the opposite direction, making it spike forward in disarray.

Dean frowns. You can’t see it, but you sense the change, in the way he stops bobbing his head lightly in time with the music.

You bite back a smile and continue your little game, even tugging a little on the strands when you push them forward. Like rubbing a cat the wrong way.

Letting out an annoyed breath through his nose, Dean takes out one earbud.

“What. Are you doing?” he asks.

It takes everything within you not to laugh.

“You’re my erizito,” you reply, smiling. You take a peek at his profile and catch the way his brows furrow.

“What the hell’s that?” he asks.

“My little hedgehog,” you translate the Spanish endearment for him, and you tease him, tugging again on his soft strands.

You finally have to giggle at the way he looks back at you from the corner of his eye. You get maybe one more time to sweep your fingers through his hair the wrong way, before he grabs your hand and turns over.

Your resulting squeal turns into laughter when he yanks his earbuds off and plucks your book out of your hand.

“Eh, eh! Don’t lose my place,” you warn, stopping him from closing the book all the way. He allows you to dog-ear your page, but he then tosses the book onto the coffee table to join his phone and earbuds.

“Come ‘ere,” he mutters.

Then he grabs your crossed legs and manhandles you beneath him on the couch. You allow it with a yelp of surprise and much giggling when he jostles you, pulling you down by your hips. Dean lowers himself between your legs, where he’s so often welcome, and settles his body over yours.

You smirk in his face. His hair is all kinds of fucked up.

He can see you’re admiring your handiwork. Little hedgehog, huh?

With a shake of his head, he bows down and silences your teasing with a kiss.

Your eyes fall closed. You breathe in and utter a sound of contentment. You frame his face with your hands and follow the familiar dance of his lips against yours.

A delicious push and pull that has his teeth grazing your full lower lip, sucking it into his mouth, his fingers tangling in your hair. His other arm is perched high above your head, giving him leverage to completely cage you with his broad, heavy frame.

But it’s a good heavy. You like the feel of him laid out over you, protective and claiming all at once. And he likes the feeling of every soft curve of yours; thighs, breasts, and soft middle all a welcoming place for him to rest—and then ravage.

His lips veer away from your mouth, allowing you both to catch your breath. He burns a warm, sloppy path along your jawline. You wrap your arms around him and splay your hands across his back. They slide lower as he moves down, and down your neck.

“Babe,” you prompt quietly in his ear. You can’t help but smile. “We’ve gotten in trouble on this couch before.”

As in, you both have been caught buck ass naked and tangled together on this couch. By his brother. Twice.

Dean smirks, just before he starts to tease the shell of your ear with his tongue.

“Tell me you don’t like a little danger,” he says.

Right, you think, with a shudder at his tongue. Or, he just has no fucking shame.

You have to giggle regardless. The trembling in your chest moves both of you, makes the shape of Dean’s smile press into your skin. He continues his downward path and rucks up your shirt.

Your knees bend further on reflex and squeeze his hips when his tongue dips between your breasts, still pushed up by your bra. You arch your back so he can slip a hand under your back and unclip the white lace. He slides it off your body, along with getting your shirt up and over your head.

Your hands dive under his layers of red plaid and black undershirt, sliding up and down the smooth slopes of his back, grazing with your nails, getting him worked up enough to have him yank off the layers himself.

He’s left in his jeans, which begin to find friction against your clothed center through the little shorts you often wear around the bunker. Dean both likes them and hates them.

Likes them, because you fill them out well, and he likes getting a handful of your ass (like he’s doing now, while he begins to rock the hard bulge in his jeans against your core while kissing you hungrily).

He also hates these little spandex shorts, because he’d rather his brother not get to see you in them. Still, Dean gets too much enjoyment out of slipping his fingers under them, squeezing your thigh, letting his thumb brush down towards your center.

Already your pussy’s throbbing.

“Need you,” you pant against his lips.

It’s been a bit too long since you two have had this kind of time alone together, not to mention the energy to fool around. It’s making you not really give a fuck about being out in the open in the middle of the library, when your shared bedroom is just down the hall.

Dean nods, then he finally palms one of your breasts like he’s reacquainting himself with an old friend. He rolls a budding nipple between his fingers and moans when he gets the other into his mouth, swirling with his tongue.

He drags a moan out of you too. You delve your hand into his wrecked hair and grip tight to keep him there.

You find yourself writhing underneath him, your hips rolling against his with need.

“Dean…” Your voice is pleading.

“Okay, I gotcha,” he says against your skin. He drags down your little shorts by the hem and reveals bare ass against the couch cushions. He hums with interest. “No panties today?”

“Surprised you didn’t notice,” you quip.

Though you do the work of unclipping his belt and helping him shimmy out of the jeans, letting them pool to the floor alongside your clothes. You roll down his boxer briefs far enough to let his cock spring free. He grabs your arm and utters a deep groan at the way you handle him, with a gentle but firm hand along his shaft.

“Guess I’ve been distracted,” he admits. He presses a forehead against your shoulder and bucks into your hand, the more you tease him. “Fuck, how long’s it been since—”

“A couple weeks,” you answer him. You begin to kiss down his neck, occasionally nipping his skin. “Too long.”

“Too damn long,” he agrees, with another sound of pleasure. He stops your hand so he can concentrate on getting you ready. He slips a long finger down your slit and between the wet folds of your pussy, where you’re already soaking for him, coating his digit.

“Fuck,” he mutters again, “all this for me, baby?”

You breathe a laugh and drag your nails down the back of his neck. “Always.”

Dean grins. Just to be thorough, he slips two fingers into your wet channel. He revels at the way you hold him close by the back of his neck and moan encouragements into his ear. But you cry out when his thumb finds your clit, and circles it with precision. Then the rest of his fingers open you up and rub against your most sensitive places.

As your inner walls tighten, so does your hand; it moves back into his hair so you have something better to hold onto.

“Dean,” you utter a warning. He nods and withdraws his hand from inside you. He peeks over the couch again, just to make sure no one’s coming. You both know this is about to be quick and dirty.

You both are panting when he grasps your hips and gives himself a better angle. You hook your thighs around his waist and give him an encouraging nod. With that, Dean positions himself at your entrance and slowly sheathes his cock deep inside you.

You release a shuddering breath, pressing your head back into the cushions. Your hair is a tangled mess fanning underneath you. He still has a hand planted on the couch’s arm above your head; you grasp his arm for stability. Dean rubs one of your thighs, in part to also get himself together as your inner walls spasm tight around him.

Fuck, it has been a while.

But he’s making up for lost time. He gives you long, steady strokes at first, letting you feel every inch of his cock as he drives back into you. A shiver of pleasure runs down your spine and you arch against him, your hands clasped on his arms.

Your heels pressing into his ass spur him on and speed up his rhythm, until he’s hitting so hard and deep against your cervix that it almost hurts. It’s a mix of intense pleasure tinged with that briefest bit of pain as he also hits your G-spot over and over.

But a few purposeful swipes of his thumb over your clit ensures that you come with him when he finally spills into you. He buries his face where your neck meets your shoulder, and a ragged grunt rolls from his throat as his release truly hits him.

You hold him to you, your own thighs quivering along with his last few strokes inside you. That hot coil snaps and you let out a gasping moan—one he swallows up with a deep kiss.

“Jesus,” you breathe, after he releases your lips. Dean catches his breath and gives you a shrug, despite his smug grin.

You smirk and once again sweep your hand through his ridiculous hair. It’s even more wild than before. You pull your hands through it, sliding down his neck on both sides.

“I stand corrected,” you say slyly. “Now you’re my erizote.”

Dean snorts. “And that would be?”

“My big hedgehog,” you tease.

Dean rolls his eyes, even as his face warms. He tries not to laugh in the face of your unending giggles.

Neither of you register the footsteps coming closer until it’s just about too late.

“Dean, are you—Oh!”

His face falls, and his eyes widen when they meet his mother’s over the back of the couch.

“Shit!” he exclaims, covering you with his body when you gasp. But it’s not really you that you’re worried about her seeing.

No mother should have to see her adult son’s naked ass.

Mary stands there behind the couch with her hand over her eyes.

“Don’t worry. I didn’t see…anything,” she says. Usually she’s a better liar.

“I’m so sorry, Mary,” you try to say, but she waves you off.

“Just…clean the sofa. Okay, guys?” she says. Then she walks away without looking back.

Dean grimaces like he’s in pain.

“Sorry, Mom,” He calls to her retreating back.

He releases a breath and lowers his forehead into the crook of your neck. Your body shakes with involuntary giggles while you hold him, soothing him with a caress of his cheek. He’s still buried deep inside you, but by now he’s released your thighs from being wrapped around his hips.

“At least it wasn’t Sam this time,” you offer.

“I don’t know what’s worse at this point,” Dean grumbles.

You bite your lip. “Well, I mean, I did warn you—”

Dean gives you a playful slap on the ass to shut you up. But your resulting squeal and laughter just makes him smile.

AN: 😅 This one-shot started out innocent, I swear. What was once a simple "chilling on the couch" drabble turned into smut somehow, but I hope you enjoyed it! Let me know what you think. 😘

Keep Reading:

Next up in this series is "In Bad Weather." It acts as the finale of the Espresso-verse, though I'm still writing stories within the world to fill in the gaps when different prompts come to mind:

Summary: You and Dean tackle the biggest possible monkey wrench in your relationship yet: could Chuck have been manipulating you two all along? [Set in S15 - “Fix It” for season finale]

▶️ Next Story: In Bad Weather

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Dean Winchester One-Shots

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Dean W. Tag List (Part 1):

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @sanscas @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19

@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @deanfreakingwinchester @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420 @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @waywardxwords

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duyuforu · 19 days ago

Text

Pick-a-Card: Next Wish Granted for You

₊ ⊹ ALLEGEDLY FOR ENTERTAINMENT PURPOSES ONLY₊ ⊹

pile 1 -> pile 2

pile 3 -> pile 4

pick a coffee and scroll down to read your reading

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Pile 1 - ₊˚⊹♡

Don't forget that it's a general reading so take what resonates. If you don't resonate with this pile, you can choose another one. If you don't resonate with any of the piles, it just means there is no messages for you today. Don't take informations you are not comfortable with, and take care of yourself

☕ Hi Pile 1! It seems like your next wish granted can be related to you wanting someone back in your life. There is someone you love, could be a friend, a lover, or just someone you love, or an opportunity, and you could have wished for it to come back, to get a reconciliation, or to just have it again. You could also want a call back for some of you, like if you had a job interview. Whatever this is, please take what resonates, it seems like you wished for something to be back to you. And it seems like this wish will be granted for you. You'll get what you wanted. Perhaps you have been thinking of it or wishing for it for some time now, so if you tried to manifest this, this might be happening finally. You could get your good karma back, and so this could be a way for the Universe to surprise you.

☕ Another thing I saw was for you to get more confident in yourself because of this wish. You could see that you are capable of doing good things and actually worth it. Your self confidence will be better after this wish being granted, and you'll accept yourself as you are more. You'll also accept things as they are. Perhaps before the wish is granted to you, you will let go of that you want, as you telling yourself "I want that, but I'll get whatever I deserve, because I accept the universe give me what is best for me". And bam, you'll get what you want because you let go. Perhaps you are learning how to detach from what you desire the most.

☕ I def see a strong theme here of something either you wanted for a long time, or something that was out of your life for some time. You could have wanted this person or this thing back for a while now. You worked hard for manifesting and this person or this thing will be back. But in order for that, you had to accept this would have not be back in your life, and that you would also have been fine this way. For a lot of you, this is a person that love and you could have been in no contact with them. You could have felt like you missed this person a lot. You could have been sad to be without them. But it does seem like they are coming back. You'll be so happy and thrilled to have this wish granted for you.

☕ If this is a romantic connection, this person could come back with an offer, a romantic and serious offer. You could def take it and not have a single doubt about this person. You'll feel very at home with them. If not a romantic connection, this could be work related and so have a contract and you'll have very good vibes about it. In any cases, I see a sort of partnership, and you having really good vibes and feeling like accepting this offer is good. Take as it resonates!

Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed, and don't forget to like (even comment your pile if you want) and follow for more content ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

If you desire a more personal and in-depth reading, you can book a private tarot reading with me.

Pile 2 - ₊˚⊹♡

☕ Hi Pile 2! Your next wish granted for you can be related to a conversation being needed. A talk needed to happen to feel better afterwards. Perhaps you have been wanting to talk to someone or to talk about something specific, it can also be linked to art if it resonates with some of you. But you could have felt the need to express yourself on a certain topic or situation. If not, this can be someone who will come forward and speak to you about something or a certain situation. Whatever this is, this talk was needed and you'll feel 10 times better after that. It seems like whatever you'll talk about or learn, you'll be so much better, so much more confident, and you'll feel more happy in general. This talk will boost your self esteem.

☕ For some of you, you could have felt like a friend or someone around you was jealous, but you weren't sure. Someone could have envy you, there is someone that wanted what you had. You'll either talk about this feeling to this person or they will come forward to talk about it to you. This seems strange as a "wish granted" but this could have made you feel down or sad, you could have doubt yourself, or this is actually happening to make you realize how people admire and wish they could be like you. This could be happening to help you have a greater self esteem and boost your confidence.

☕ It seems like this talk will be between you and a friend. I see two Feminine energy here, and you love each other very much. I see love so even if it's someone you know or a friend, this person doesn't have bad intentions, they may just feel naturally some jealousy or there could be a conflict with a friend. One of the two feminine energy is hard working and is patient, while the other can be cold at times, and could be careful with who they trust. There is a true friendship here. This friendship could have been good in the past.

☕ The strongest theme for this pile is communication and the act of talking. you'll def have a talk with this person, and you could set things straight. The conversation will go well, I don't see a fight happening. You'll talk a lot and learn new things, perhaps how this person view you. It will feel good, you'll feel really good after this talk. Moreover, you and this person will become closer after this talk. You could feel very thankful that this happened.

Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed, and don't forget to like (even comment your pile if you want) and follow for more content ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

If you desire a more personal and in-depth reading, you can book a private tarot reading with me.

Pile 3 - ₊˚⊹♡

☕ Hi Pile 3! For this pile, I see that the next wish granted for you may be related to foreign lands, a foreigner, perhaps a man who is a foreigner. This person who has a more masculine energy, can come forward to you. I have no idea if you already met them or not, but this person may have strong and serious intentions with you. If your wish was love related, it seems like your next wish granted will be about your romantic relationships. This masculine energy is calm, collected, they can be serious and sure of themselves. They have an energy to know what they want and to not mess around. They will be honest with you. They have a strong desire for you, they want to build something long term with you as well. If you knew this person, this person can come back to tell you their truth or some truth. I also see this person to want to heal you, to help you and to build a life with you. They may want to get married and have a family with you.

☕ I def see if you already know this person or if this is a person from the past, they could come back and offer you real commitment. You could have felt like the distance or the no contact situation was never going to end, that it was the end between you two but cards are saying that this person is coming back with an offer. They love you and want to be with you. They will contact you soon. If you do not want someone from the past, then you could have felt like love isn't worth it, you could have felt like you are better alone. But a person with a masculine energy is here to prove you wrong, and here to love tou, to make you their empress, their queen. This person, whoever this is , is a soulmate.

☕ I also see for some of you you could be working harde lately, and if you wanted to see some results for your hard work, you will very soon! Perhaps money will come your way, a good amount and you'll feel so happy about it. You'll feel stable soon with your finances and things could get better financially. You could feel like you worked so hard you deserve it, and you do!

☕ Coming back from this masculine energy wanting to be with you, it's perhaps gonna take some time for you two to be good together, perhaps it's because you need time to trust this person. But you'll see that it's okay, and this person will not want to rush you. I also see you'll very very safe and good with this person. You'll feel like finally you found your happiness. For some of you, this could be a sign of meeting your Future Spouse.

Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed, and don't forget to like (even comment your pile if you want) and follow for more content ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

If you desire a more personal and in-depth reading, you can book a private tarot reading with me.

Pile 4 - ₊˚⊹♡

☕ Hi Pile 4! Your next wish granted could be related to you facing something you are scared to face. This could be related to you being afraid to fail or to disappoint, you could have a certain fear this way. You could be scared to disappoint people you love or specially your family or a family member. You could actually have a talk with someone you are scared to disappoint even with just your life choices. You and this person could talk eventually about it, and they could say to you something really precious. They could reassure you, and tell you that, in fact, they will never be disappointed in you and will always support you. You could want to move out or to feel free in certain decision but you could be scared on how this person will react. You could talk about it with this person and be surprised by how supportive they will be with you.

☕ If you want to know more about who this person could be, I see a feminine energy, earth signs more possible for this person. This person could be a mother figure for you, so your mother, big sister, or someone you care like a mother. You can feel very close to this person and you could love them very much. You are strongly linked to them, you can even look up to them, admire them. You love them so much you may be scared to disappoint them. Indeed you fear you and them have a fight or argument and that you'll stop talking or being in each other's life. You don't want to be in cold with them.

☕ You and this person will eventually have a discussion. I see some kind of opportunity that already presented to you or will in the future. You'll feel like this is a big chance for you to take it but you are scared of how this person will react. This can be about them not liking that you'll leave, or them not agreeing with this project or opportunity, or thinking they will be mad about it. Though, everything I just said are things you are afraid this person will think. I sense a def big opportunity or something you are happy about, and for some this could be about a relationship, a person you want to be with and you are scared this person will not approve.

☕ Though, you'll learn by talking about it with this person that those were just fears and not reality. Actually when talking about it to this person, you'll be very brave, and you'll express your desire for this opportunity as something will will fight for and not give up, even if they would disapprove. And this person could be quite loving, understanding, and reassuring you about it. They could tell you they will love you and always support you. You'll feel blessed and good. All your anxiety will disappear. You'll move towards this opportunity freely and with no regrets.

Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed, and don't forget to like (even comment your pile if you want) and follow for more content ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

If you desire a more personal and in-depth reading, you can book a private tarot reading with me.

back to index ; ask ; requests

#tarotcommunity #tarot deck #tarot cards #tarot #tarot reading #tarot pac #tarot readings #tarot community #daily tarot #tarotblr #pac #pick a card #pick a pile #pick a picture #pac reading #pac tarot

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sanyu-thewitch05 · 7 months ago

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Yandere Superhero X Villain! F! Reader

Wanna buy me a coffee: ☕

TW: Dubcon, spankings, kidnapping, bodily horror

PT.2

Your real name is Y/N L/N, but your villain name is Anima. After your latest failure in trying to find a job, you went into the woods to end it all. Then, by some miracle, an entity older than any Abrahamic religion found your dead body and brought you back to life. Your senses were heightened, and you could hear the animal's chatter and noises as words. With a new feeling of power, you went through society doing whatever you wanted. Even if it meant a few people with broken bones or blood on the floor. That was until a superhero by the name of superhero by the name of Ultimate Man appeared and started defeating you in battle.

He isn't going to be a problem anymore after you take him out with your new suit. Not only does it have the abilities and strengths of every animal alive, but it has the strengths and abilities of the extinct ones. It took kidnapping a paleontologist, but it is so worth it.

"Anima, surrender, and you won't get hurt," Ultimate Man commands, floating a few feet above the ground.

"Sorry, but rent's due," You say, running off with the bags of money from the bank.

As you run, he shoots lasers at you, but you dodge them by zigzagging. Unfortunately, this leads to you not paying attention to where you're going, and you run yourself off a harbor walk. The money sinks into the ocean, and you struggle to swim back up. You switch to the abilities of any marine animal, but it's still not helping you. You see your feet entangled in seaweed and try to break free. Your struggle to free yourself has worn you out, and it seems like this is your last run. Your vision goes black as your instincts tell you to go up to the surface and breathe.

~~~~~~~~~~

When you open your eyes, your jaw and ass feel sore. You try to talk, but there's a gag in your mouth.

"How dare you be such a bad girl and cause so much trouble? Do you have no respect for anyone in this city? Who cares if your rent is due? Get! A! Fucking! Job!" Ultimate Man rants, spanking your ass after every word.

"MM! MH! AWCH!" You scream, your legs kicking as Ultimate Man uses his godly strength to spank you.

The tight latex suit didn't help with the spankings, in fact, the material made sure your body could feel them at their full force.

"Oh, I see the worst girl of the century has awakened. How does it feel knowing you almost got yourself killed trying to steal money?" Ultimate Man asks, taking off your gag.

His blonde hair with light blue highlights, aquamarine eyes, and skin-tight latex white and blue suit is a sight for the eyes. His appearance is ethereal, representing his alien origin from outer space sent to help out Earth on its newest supernatural threat(you.) Who knew having the power of every animal in existence would warrant alien help for the planet Earth?

"I'm sorry, Ultimate Man. I was only trying to pay my rent. Honest," You plead, bracing for another swat to the ass. "I didn't get the raise at my job, even though I deserve it, and I couldn't pay this month's rent."

"I believe you," Ultimate Man says, his hand still rubbing your ass. "But that doesn't mean I forgive you for what you did. I was so worried when you didn't rise from the water. I thought I lost you forever. I need a suitable mate, and you're the only one with abilities almost equal to mine on this planet."

"I'm sorry, WHAT?! I thought you were in a relationship with that news writer, Lora?" You ask, lifting your head.

"Are you kidding me? We're just friends. She couldn't compare to your beauty and strength. Now then, how about we get to know each other."

Ultimate Man peels off your eye mask, then takes out his contacts. There are no pupils in his eyes, just pools of aquamarine. It creeps you out, but at least he's still hot.

"I'm ☍⍀⍜⎍☍⟒⋏ ⏃⏃⍀☍⟒⋔. But you can call me Krouken Aarkem, which is pronounced Cro-oo-can Ar-kem. My human father calls me Ken. Now, what's your name?" Ultimate Man asks, lifting your body with ease.

"It's Marnie," You lie, not wanting to give him your real name.

His fingertips glow blue, and he places them on your head. Pain takes over your head as he searches through the deepest parts of your memory.

"Y/N M/N L/N. What a beautiful name. I'll make sure to bring over your cat so you can have your baby," Krouken says, removing his hands from you.

You slap him and stumble to the other side of the couch.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" You groan, holding your head.

"What did I do wrong? Please don't be mad at me!" Krouken cries, jumping onto your body and hugging you tightly. "I'll never do it again unless you want me to! I promise! Just don't be mad at me!"

"Alright! Alright! I'm not mad at you! Just get off of me!" You yell, pushing him off you after feeling his boner on your leg.

"Yay! Now, we can engage in the Plutonian ritual we call Improving."

Krouken starts taking off his suit, revealing his naked body to you. You back up but bump into the couch, leaving you nowhere to run. He touches your suit, liquifying the material and making it fall off your body like water. Krouken kisses you, his hand tracing every part of your body as if he were memorizing it.

"Your heart is beating fast? Do you want to fight me?" Krouken asks his hand on your chest.

"No. It's just something the human body does when we feel certain emotions," You explain, holding Krouken's hand.

"So you are excited to Improve too? Excellent, I can move forward," Krouken replies, his two dicks merging into one with the width of an adult's fist.

Your eyes widen in fear of the inhuman cock in front of you. There was no way it was going to fit. It was too wide to fit in your human pussy. If it were to go inside you, you'd feel it in your lungs.

"Wait, I think we should-" You plead, only for Krouken to shove his massive cock inside of you.

You can feel it moving inside as if his dick was made from thousands of little suction cups that were kissing your vaginal walls. Krouken's arm holds you in place, and he thrusts.

"Keep going, Krouken!" You moan, lifting your leg and putting it on his shoulder.

Krouken bites and sucks your nipples as he thrusts faster, his dick suction cups losing their grip and becoming more slippery.

"You're never going to be a bad girl ever again. I'm going to fill your stomach up with so many babies that you'll never be able to think of doing stupid shit without having trouble standing up. You're going to birth the next generation of my people. You're mine, all mine. Not those villain's colleague or someone else's enemy, mine," Krouken rambles, thrusting at an inhuman rate, destroying whatever tightness your pussy had.

His eyes become white as he cums, his alien cock suction cups releasing thousands of sperm. Upon his sperm's release, his genital suction cups regained their grip on your walls, and sucking on them, making you go into overdrive. You cum on his dick, and he shudders. Both of you relish in your afterglow, sweat dripping from your body.

"So, what did you think of Improving?" Krouken asks, his head resting on your breasts.

"It was good. By the way, why do your people call it that?" You ask, rubbing Krouken's wet hair.

"Because we improve each other's bodies. Once my seed is in you, it will rework some human DNA so you'll be more like me and vice versa. Your skin is already starting to become shiny and ethereal like my skin," Krouken answers, kissing your neck.

Your body feels extremely hot, like lava is in your veins, and your eyes are burning like no tomorrow. Your spine releases a horrifying crack as your body involuntarily jolts upwards. All you can do is scream as your bones and body transform permanently.

#yandere superhero #yandere alien #yandere x reader #f! reader #yandere dubcon #yandere teratophilia #villain! reader #sanyuthewitch05 #yandere smut

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writers-potion · 8 months ago

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Writing Morally Gray Characters

Morally gray antagonists and heroes can bring up many interesting questions about your story's theme and plot. Yes, your hero does want to save the world, but resorts to cruel ways of bringing peace?

Being morally gray can also mean that the character is highly goal- oriented and values efficiency and success over anything.

Deceiving Appearances

As is true in real life, a person's intentions aren't always obvious. A character, their title, background or really just how they look might at first indicate they're the hero type but surprise - they're not.

By hiding ulterior motives behind more apparent ones, you can add depth to your morally gray characters. Appearances can be deceiving, and that makes for a juicy read.

Morally Gray vs. Villains

Morally gray characters and villains are not strictly one and the same. Yes, there is overlap-they can be villains-but the distinctions are there nonetheless.

I don't think having a dark past to provide motivations for morally gray characters is too effective. They do intend to harm others, and sometimes, that's just the way they are.

Recognition

Your morally gray character should recognize that their choices can cause harm, intentionally or otherwise.

Although he's willing to risk the chance in his pursuit of knowledge, he does actively recognize that his actions can result in negative consequences. He sometimes acknowledges this before he does something, and sometimes only in hindsight.

Remorse

They must understand and experience remorse. When the consequences of their actions wreck and story world and kills people around her, she would certainly have regrets and even struggle to undo what she did.

The point here is, she won't regret until she has already caused the wreckage.

Redemption

Finally, when even they feel things have gone too far, your morally gray character must seek redemption however that manifests itself in your story.

For all their logic and reasoning, they are not without feeling. They can grow to care for other characters and go out of their way to help them at times, even save their life.

If you like my blog, buy me a coffee☕ and find me on instagram! 📸

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todomochi-uwu · 1 year ago

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Who (1/?) -J.Y & S.M

Pairing: Poly! Jeong Yunho x reader x Song Mingi

Genre: Angst, Smut

Warnings: This content is for a mature audience

Synopsis: You can't remember when was the last time you spent time with them, the last "I love you", the last time any of them kissed you.

Other chapters: Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee ☕

"Mingi, please. I think we should talk; I don't feel good and…" He was quick to cut you off.

"Y/n not right now, I'm tired."

You are always tired these days…

"Yunho, love do you want to go out and check out that new cafeteria? I heard they have…" He was quick to cut you off.

"Y/n not right now, I'm busy."

You are always busy these days...

Things haven't been the same in a while, always in a rush, always in a mood. You can't remember when was the last time you spent time with them, the last "I love you", the last time any of them kissed you. It was a type of routine you had grown accustomed to, and even if it was killing you inside, the idea of being without them was way worse than the pain of their neglect. Cold, endless nights laying in a bed that was way too big for you; tasteless dinner plates that would end up in the trashcan or at the back of the fridge rotting. A home that was crumbling from its foundations, one that you had so desperately tried to patch up and fix by yourself. But in the end, you just had to face the cruel reality, that they don't care. You were not a priority; your relationship was at the bottom of their list.

That's how you ended up at Chan's apartment, in the middle of the night, with so much as your phone in your pocket and your heart in your hand. He had been your main support the last weeks, anything you wanted, anything you needed, no questions asked. Whenever you woke up crying, whenever you broke down in the middle of the day, Chan was always there to comfort you. And so, you laid there, in his chest, the aftermath of a movie night in which you had only cried twice, an important milestone.

The constant buzzing in the pocket of your pyjamas was making it quite hard for you to continue sleeping. You knew exactly who dared bother you so late at night, it had been the same callers every single night for the past month.

"Don't answer it." Chan's groggy voice filled your ears. He was right. You declined the call and turned off your phone.

But said-call had already done its job, you couldn't stop thinking about the phone, well the people behind it. Your phone was full of texts and missed calls, eight people behind them, because their friends were loyal like that.

They are so sorry.

Please talk to them.

Yunho is drowning himself in work.

Mingi doesn't even talk to us.

Funny it is. A few weeks ago, it seemed they could live perfectly fine without you; they could go on with their day without even glancing your way. You gave them every single piece of your being just to get crumbles in return. But at the same time, your heart is weak, it can’t help but break every time you read one of their texts, wondering if they miss you that much, if they are sorry, if maybe, just maybe, you should go back.

“Y/n… you are overthinking again.” Bang Chan said, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“I know, I just feel bad, Chan. Maybe I overreacted, maybe if I tried a bit harder to talk to them…” There you were again, trying to justify their actions. Chan gave you the same stern look he had been giving you for weeks, every time you blamed yourself.

He got up, not mentioning the subject anymore. Tired of going on about the same subject, “Hey, are you hungry? I can make you something or we can order in.”

It would be a lie to say you were not enjoying Chan’s presence. Having someone to talk to, someone to have a meal with, even someone who sits next to you without being on their phone or computer, you miss not feeling alone. And even though you were heartbroken, you felt warm on the inside.

-------------------------------------------------------

While you might be doing somewhat okay, the other parts of your relationship were not. The house was in complete silence, no matter the hour, no matter the day, no one would dare say a word, their mouths too busy sobbing every single time they remembered their sins, taking you for granted, neglecting you, breaking you.

Yunho would keep himself busy at the hospital, the idea of going back to a broken home simply made him nauseous, and even if the lack of food and the stress were killing him, he much rather endure that than face the harsh truth. Mingi wasn’t any better, endless nights spent in the office, acting as if he was reviewing cases, but the reality was that he just wanted a place to cry without anyone noticing him. Even the love between them was running cold. Fight after fight, they spat cruel words and thoughts trying to get all the hurt and anger out of their chests, blaming themselves, blaming each other. How did they not notice things were so wrong? How could they let things get so wrong?

“Oh, don’t act as if I'm the only one who wasn’t here, you slept at the office almost every day. I came home late, but you didn’t even come at all.” Yunho said, venom in his voice and a glass of whiskey in his hand.

Mingi scratched his forehead in frustration, he could feel the bile going up his throat. “Forgive me for trying to pay the bills, someone has to pay for the house, the student loans, the fucking food that’s on the table.”

“Fuck off, don’t you dare say I’m not bringing any money. Besides, you know that this is temporary while I finish my residency…”

And there the cycle began once again, a screaming match of arguments that never went anywhere, masking the true cause of their pain. Tears ran down their faces, their voices broke down more and more with each word they let out, Yunho's body trembled so much it hurt, while Mingi’s chest felt as if it was about to explode.

“I’m not okay, Yunho.” It was the first time any of them said it out loud, his voice was much raspier and heavier than the usual one.

“I'm not either, Mingi.” He whispered, fearing he would break down even more if he admitted it much louder.

“She left three weeks ago.”

Yunho could only nod.

“She’s not coming back, is she?”

“I don’t know, Mingi.”

#yunho angst #yunho smut #yunho x reader #mingi smut #mingi x reader #mingi angst #jeong yunho #song mingi #ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez angst #ateez

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jacky93sims · 3 months ago

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Sweet Tooth Ice Cream Machine Functional for The Sims 2

This is a conversion from Sims 4, low poly. It's a functional machine that can be used to prepare 7 different ice cream cones. They are based on the Fruit Ice Cream Set from ONI, but I added additional tastes.

Teen to Elder sims can prepare ice cream, it will cost 20 simoleon for 6 portion but also children can eat and clean the machine (the animations for children are not perfect). The ice cream in the machine can also spoil, so be careful :D

I used the coffee animation to make it look more like eating ice cream and changed the sip sound to the chew sound from the pizza slice, and sims will gain hunger instead of energy of course. They can also gain cooking and cleaning points using the machine. I also added a handkerchief around the cone, it will remain at the end and sims need to dispose of it (like the coffee cup).

DOWNLOAD HERE

Let me know about any issues please!

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If you want to support my creations, you can send me a donation with Paypal or Ko-fi ☕ If you want to ask for a Paid Commission, HERE you can find more details. Thank you ❤️

#ts2 #the sims 2 #sims 2 cc #sims 2 download #the sims 2 cc #ts2 download #4to2 #4to2 conversion #buy mode #food #ice cream #small appliances #kitchen appliances #functional #ice cream cone

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marvelstoriesepic · 1 month ago

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Latte (He)art

Pairing: Barista!Bucky x Coworker!College!Reader

Summary: Your sweet coworker at the café you work at part time is the only thing able to brighten your day. So it’s only practical that he always ends up in the same shift as you.

Word Count: 7.8k 🐻☕🧋🍪

Warnings: Reader having College stress; mentions of a single mother (not reader); some coffee is spilled; Bucky is a sweetheart; Bucky is worried

Author’s Note: This little piece is written for @elixirfromthestars writing challenge. I actually planned to write this a month earlier but life got in between lol. Here it is now. I dearly hope you enjoy what I made of your lovely prompt.

🤎Coffee Cup🤎 “So we’re swapping our cups, and after a while, we’re swapping a glance. And I can think nothing better than starting the year with a drop of romance.” -Anthony Lazaro

Masterlist

The windows of the coffee shop receive more of your attention than the assortment of pastries you’re supposed to prepare to showcase behind the counter.

It’s fifteen minutes before Bucky’s shift starts and your belly flutters at the thought of seeing him again.

The early morning sun filters through the windows, offering a soft glow that casts warm beams of light to sweep across the floor and catch the glistening frosting on the cinnamon rolls. Their sweet, spiced aroma laced with hints of vanilla and brown sugar wafts through the air.

However, your gaze is more drawn to the street outside, scanning the road for a short mop of chestnut hair.

You like to snag shifts before the classes of your day start, relishing in the early morning hours and being satisfied with getting some work done before studying. But in the two and a half months since you started working at ‘Barnes Brown Beans’, you had come to recognize Bucky seems to prefer working in the morning as well. So, he actually may be the main reason.

Also, you’re usually, coincidentally - or so you tell yourself - paired with him anyway.

You’re grateful for this job. The shop’s close proximity to your university makes it an easy commute and the wages are fair. That’s a blessing in itself. But more than that, it was George and Winifred Barnes, the owners, who initially made it easy for you to love this job.

Winifred had greeted you with sweet enthusiasm at your job interview for a part-time job, making you instantly feel more at ease. After asking a few routine questions and warmly assuring you that the position was yours, she shifted the conversation to your studies with genuine interest and asked if you were good with balancing work and university life - a mother's worries.

It didn’t take long for her to start gushing about her children. She explained to you how her son, Bucky, had been helping out at the coffee shop ever since high school. Instead of pursuing college, like many of his peers and his best friend Steve, he chose to stay in New York to help manage the family business. “I’m sure you two will get along well” she had said with a kind of knowing grin you couldn’t make sense of.

She even shared with you that his little sister, Rebecca, always had a burning passion for studying architecture abroad. Unfortunately, the Barnes simply couldn’t afford a college education for both children, so Bucky decided to step up, taking on more responsibility at the shop so his parents wouldn’t be overwhelmed and relieving them of some stressful work, allowing his sister to follow her dreams.

She spoke with so much love and gratitude she held for her son, it almost made you tear up. She mentioned that Bucky never once showed resentment or regret for the path he chose.

Instead, he took pride in his role, and you could see it too. During your brief time working with him, you noticed how he carried himself with a quiet determination. There is genuine joy in the way he treats customers, always kind and attentive, and he always puts so much care into every small detail of his work.

He also loves to tell you about the exams his sister passed, and the friends she made; pride in her success evident when he speaks about her.

You admire him. He’s selfless, hardworking, and full of heart.

So it’s just logical that his parents gave him so much responsibility early on and made him part of the management.

You don’t mind that one second though, because he takes his authority incredibly seriously and usually shows up for his shifts earlier than he needs to.

It’s why your gaze is drawn to the panes of glass at the front once again.

You got in at 7 today, getting enthusiastically greeted by George - as he told you to call him on your first day - and tasked with the usual morning routine. So, as he disappeared into the small office room at the back of the shop, you had started prepping the food equipment and putting it on display.

The shop wouldn’t open until 8, so you still had some time to breathe before the morning rush would start, but you always feel some kind of gratitude at the way George lets you handle yourself at the front while waiting for Bucky to arrive at 7:30 to help out.

Admittedly, you didn’t get that much done yet, caused by the thought of seeing Bucky walk in through the door at any minute.

You saw him just 4 days ago at your last shift, but the giddy anticipation is all the same and you only have three and a half hours with him today before you have to leave for your classes.

The buttery, sweet, and slightly nutty smell of the freshly baked croissants you’re currently rearranging wafts from the trays and reaches your nostrils, but gets ignored the second you hear keys jiggling outside, and your attention snaps to the door.

“Morning doll!”

Bucky’s smooth voice comes through the door with him, cheerful as always as he greets you with a charming smile, and your chest flutters. A rush of cool air hits your exposed skin from outside, but his grin is warming you back up quickly.

You fumble with the croissant in your hand, but recover in time and throw him a smile of your own, hoping you’re able to mask the excitement you tried to hold in all morning.

“Morning, Bucky,” you greet him back sweetly, turning your attention back to the pastries, pretending to focus on your task at hand.

Out of the corner of your eye, you watch as Bucky pulls off his coat and then makes his way over to you, hovering over your shoulder, while putting on his apron. You try to hide the way your hands get a little clammy in the see-through gloves you’re wearing while touching the food.

You tend to the fruit danishes, their glossy, golden crust filled with rich cream cheese and topped with plump raspberries, blueberries, and apricots.

Carefully placing each in its designated spot, you only manage to breathe a little easier when you feel Bucky move over to the coffee machines, their steady hum filling the quiet space as Bucky busies himself.

“Smells amazing, doll,” he calls over his shoulder and you can hear the grin in his voice.

You let out a soft laugh, glancing at him briefly before putting your head back around. “Didn’t make them, Bucky,” you explain, tone playful but modest.

Brewing coffee and clinking mugs are the only sounds you hear before Bucky’s hum reaches your ears. “Maybe you should,” he states, teasing laced with a hint of sincerity. “Bet they’d be gone in seconds.”

You’re grateful that Bucky isn’t in your line of sight because you feel heat creeping up your neck, coloring your cheeks. Your laugh is a little breathless, a little more insecure than you intended.

A few weeks ago you had casually mentioned your love for baking when Bucky had asked about your hobbies, and ever since he loved to bring it up every once in a while.

“I don’t know about that.” You try for nonchalance, but the blush doesn’t leave your face.

“Gotta give yourself more credit, doll,” he replies easily, his words wrapped in that effortless charm of his. You hear some more clinking of cups as he makes one for himself, just like every day. “Want coffee?”

He asks every time. You decline, like every time. Though he never fails to ask.

And it never fails to make your morning feel just a little bit brighter.

****

Watching Bucky create his latte art has become one of the highlights of your day. There is something mesmerizing in the way he moves, pouring the steamed milk with such precision and focus as if each cup would get graded by an artist.

You’ve noticed how much care he puts into it, the way he pauses before finishing, always needing it to be perfect.

You can tell when Bucky isn’t quite satisfied, like right now, as he holds up the cup that looks flawless to you. But there is a twitch of his mouth, a slight hesitation in his hand as if he’s debating whether to start over or risk making it worse with one more pour.

It’s adorable, really. To you, they all look perfect, but he holds himself to a standard that’s somehow both admirable and endearing.

Today, Bucky was the one already there when you arrived at 8 am, along with the first customers of the day.

The scent of fresh coffee had filled the air as you stepped inside, a soft murmur of conversation around you setting the tone for the morning rush.

He was stationed behind the counter, together with one of your coworkers, Peter. It didn’t escape your notice that Bucky caught your eye immediately, flashing you that warm, easy smile even before acknowledging Mr. Nakajima, a frequent visitor.

It was a small gesture but it excited you nonetheless.

Mr. Nakajima, or Yori as you’d heard Bucky call him, now sits in his usual corner, peacefully sipping his tea; his quiet presence a constant in the shop.

The older man always seems content to watch the people go in and out of the shop, observing the ebb and flow of the crowd, wrinkled hands wrapped around his cup as if savoring the warmth.

Bucky often took time to sit with him when things were slow, sharing long and comfortable conversations that seemed to be meaningful. There is something about the way Bucky treats Yori that tugs at your heart.

It seems, that right now Bucky is comfortable with leaving Peter and you to attend to the ebbing crowd as he makes his way to Yori's table and slowly lowers himself in front of him.

You deliberately turn away although there isn’t much to do for you right now since the morning rush is over and Peter attends to the only customer in the shop right now. So, you mindlessly wipe down the counter, not because you’re not interested, but if you spend any more attention on the guy you might get overwhelmed by the awe he arises in you.

The way Bucky smiles when he talks to the old man, the way his face lights up with that blinding, heart-stopping grin - it has a dizzying effect on you. And the laugh he lets slip every so often, low and full of warmth, makes it hard to concentrate on any coffee orders.

Bucky stays at Yori's table for a while. Every now and then you make out his face turning in your direction, lingering a little but you stay focused on your work.

“Y/n?”

The sound of Peters's voice makes your head snap over to him, blinking in expectation.

“Sorry, uh, you seemed a little distracted for a sec,” Peter says with a shy laugh, scratching the back of his neck, eyes flickering not so subtly over to Bucky.

Alright, maybe you have looked a few times. Whatever.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you mumble, doing your best to ignore the knowing grin spreading across Peter's face. Thankfully, a girl around your age approaches the counter, saving you from the growing awkwardness. You flash her a smile and focus on her order.

More customers start to stream in, the café again beginning to buzz with activity. Bucky, noticing the crowd building up, excuses himself from Yori’s table with a friendly pat on the old man’s shoulder. He steps back behind the counter, his easygoing demeanor never faltering as he joins in beside you. You share a quick smile.

Working with Bucky always makes it fun in some sense, time slipping by too quickly. Before you know it, it’s time for you to head out for your first class of the day.

You step away from the counter, untie your apron, and grab your things, already feeling reluctant to leave Bucky’s side.

“Already time to go?” Bucky asks, turned in your direction, his voice carrying that familiar deep drawl. There’s a slight disappointment laced in his tone, that doesn’t escape you.

“Yeah,” you sigh, “first class is-“

“History,” he finishes for you, without missing a beat.“I remember.”

You hadn’t expected him to recall such a small detail about your schedule, surprise registering on your face. But you quickly push out a smile, nodding at him, your heart doing a little somersault.

“Hold on,” he insists quietly, already moving to snap up a to-go bag and carefully placing a croissant inside. With a casual grin, he holds it out for you to take. “On the house.”

This isn’t the first time Bucky has given you something to go, insisting you take it as a gift. But it never gets easier to accept his small acts of kindness. You hesitate, not making a move to take the bag and Bucky’s smirk only deepens, playing the same game you’ve had before.

“Take it, doll,” he drawls, dangling the bag in front of your face with a playful glint in his eye. “Can’t let you go to class hungry, now can I?”

You can’t help but roll your eyes with a smile tugging at your lips, and snatch the bag from his hand with mock annoyance. “Fine, but this is the last time,” you warn, rather weakly it seems, considering the way Bucky leans against the counter with his arms crossed, smirking at you in an amused manner.

“You know it’s not. Can’t fault me for taking care of you, doll. You haven’t eaten anything all morning.”

His words are casual, but the way he says it, the unspoken concern that lingers, makes giddy warmth rise in your stomach, spreading to your face and heating your skin.

You hope it’s not that obvious, so you just sigh again, dramatically, and exaggerate an eye roll as Bucky lets another cup get filled with coffee, eyes remaining on you, a chuckle fleeing his lips.

You make your way to the door of the shop, knowing you’d just pay him back by slipping some money into the tip jar when you’re in earlier than him.

“And no leaving dollars in the tip jar, sweetheart,” Bucky calls out behind you, the smug amusement clear in his voice. “Ma told me about that.”

Busted.

You turn you head with a faux helpless look, which only sends him into a fit of laughter, the sound rich and full, echoing through the shop, and your heart bursts, ignoring the people standing in the line wearing looks between confusion and annoyance. Laughing quietly yourself, you let the warmth of the moment fill you up, then quickly slip out the door before the flustered grin on your face can betray you any further.

With the door closed, the sounds of the café seal off behind you and you find yourself lingering just a second longer than the last time.

****

“Girl, I’m telling you, that’s nothing! I accidentally made a girl’s latte with cow's milk although she’d ordered oat. Chased her down the street like a lunatic, I mean she could have had an allergy and whatnot. Turns out it was just a preference and she didn’t mind. Talk about embarrassing.”

You chuckle along to Gina’s story, dusting the cappuccino in front of you with a sprinkle of cinnamon, scents mingling together.

Regina - or Gina as she prefers - is always someone you enjoy working with together. She’s incredibly open-minded and carries that vibrant energy you need to get through the day. She’s got a few years on you but never fails to make you laugh.

While brewing coffee and selling them, she loves to tell you about her little boy, Nikita. You’ve seen pictures of him on her phone and he’s adorable with puffy cheeks, dark curls, and dark green eyes. He must have those from his father.

You know she is a single mother and you admire the way she takes it with pride, finding peace in her situation and insisting that she and Nikita are better off without his father.

You’ve also come to find out that 'Barnes Brown Beans' wasn’t the only job she had but that George and Winifred are so much fairer than her other boss, being supportive and trying to give her shifts that accommodate her schedule so she could pick up Nikita from kindergarden early enough to still have time with him every day.

Another thing that makes this job so valuable.

Earlier was a brief lull in the crowd, allowing you and her to chat. The conversation had drifted into the realm of embarrassing work stories. You shared one of your own, recalling how, in your first week, you had prepared a to-go coffee. You felt that nervousness that comes with starting a new job and as you tried to slide the cup over the counter to the customer, your aim had been far too enthusiastic. The cup sailed past the edge, spinning gracefully through the air before landing in the trash bin.

You hoped that perhaps nobody really saw what happened besides the slightly perturbed man in front of you. But since you shared this shift with Bucky and he always seems to have an eye on you, of course, he was a witness. You remember the way his laugh had erupted, uncontainable, filling the air behind the counter. He had leaned against it for support while you stood there, cheeks burning.

He didn’t make you feel bad though, helping you remake the coffee and almost sheepishly adding that the same thing happened to him once. Only, in his case, it was a porcelain cup. And it didn’t land in the bin. The image of it crashing to the floor, shattering into tiny pieces as coffee splattered everywhere, was enough to make you feel a little less embarrassed.

“Something funny?”

The familiar voice catches you off guard and you look up from the register. Sure enough, Bucky is strolling up to the counter, hands casually tucked into his jacket pockets and that handsome grin on his face that always causes your stomach to do flips.

“Bucky?” you ask, a soft, confused laugh escaping you. You feel your heart jump in excitement and try to tone it down. He wasn’t supposed to come in for a few more hours, and you had already resigned yourself to the disappointment of missing him today. You’d seen the shift schedule last week and the realization was like a cloud casting a shadow over your mood.

So, seeing him standing in front of you only makes a smile stretch wide without even thinking.

“I think you’re a little early,” you assess, voice light as you ring up the girl standing at the counter. Handing her the cappuccino, you glance back at him, the small transaction barely registering as your attention stays fixed on Bucky.

His grin only widens as he shrugs with a kind of faux nonchalance, letting his gaze sweep across the room. His smile stays in place, even as he steps aside for a middle-aged man approaching you.

“Couldn’t stay away,” he teases with that signature edge of playfulness that always gets to you.

As you start to prepare the man’s coffee, you can feel Bucky’s gaze on you, watching your every move. It’s a weight you’ve grown fond of - his silent observation that makes you more aware of yourself, in a good way.

You flash him a quick smile before refocusing.

“Also had to know how that exam went,” he adds casually, leaning in just a little, but you’re aware of that curiosity his voice always carries when he asks you about college. Or anything about your life, really.

You huff out a small laugh, ringing up the man’s order and sliding his coffee across the counter before turning your full attention back to Bucky. “Wasn’t as hard as I thought it’d be,” you answer him, a hint of relief in your tone since you had been stressing about this exam for weeks. “I think I did okay.”

Bucky leans against the counter now, propping himself up in that relaxed way of his, eyes never leaving yours. You’re glad you get to talk to him, glad that Gina attends to the only current customer right now and you have a second with Bucky, but the unknown power his gaze holds over you threatens to overwhelm you.

“What’d I tell ya, doll? Of course, you did great. Smartest girl I know.”

You snort, but your heart races. He always seems so sure of your success, having this confidence in you, that you feel you lack sometimes and it makes warmth pool in your gut. “Well I guess I’ll have to thank you, then,” you reply, smile present and voice light but the gratitude is real.

His scent - a mix of something warm and clean, almost earthy, and his cologne - cuts through the usual aroma of coffee beans and pastries. It’s grounding and you have to remind yourself to focus as you move toward the coffee machines.

“Do you want coffee?” you throw over your shoulder, fingers already hovering over the buttons.

Bucky straightens up in your peripherals and you make out the shake of his head with that soft smile on his face. “Don’t wanna keep you from work. I’ll make it myself, thanks doll!”

The door to the café swings open and three girls walk in together, laughter filling the room as they make their way over to you. Bucky’s movements snap your head back to him as he casually slips behind the counter, stepping up to the coffee machines and you head back to the register, keeping awareness of his presence as always.

Since Bucky’s shift doesn’t start yet, he stays lingering behind the counter and engages in conversation with Gina when he notices you getting busy again. From where you stand you can hear snippets of their conversation - Bucky asking about Nikita and when he gets to see him again.

You never realized they are that close but the thought of Bucky caring about that little boy instantly heats your skin. There’s a softness to imagining him in that role, and you can easily picture how good he must be with kids.

After all, you’ve seen it before - the way his face lights up when he catches sight of children toddling along beside their parents, the way he bends down to their height, engages them in little conversations that always leave them giggling or grinning from ear to ear. It’s endearing and really no wonder that every child he talks to seems to adore him.

But what really tugs at your heart, what causes a flutter deep in your chest, is the subtle way Bucky’s attention keeps drifting back to you.

Even in the middle of his chat with Gina, you can feel his gaze lingering on you. There is a quiet fondness in the way he watches you go about your work, always wearing that soft expression.

It’s not like he’s checking if you’re doing your job right - nothing about it feels critical or scrutinizing. Instead, it’s as if he’s simply enjoying observing you, absorbing the way you move through your tasks, as though he’s eager to learn all the little details that make up your routine.

And surprisingly, it doesn’t make you as nervous as you might have believed. If anything, there is something soothing about his attention, like a silent reassurance you never knew you needed.

Occasionally, throughout your shift, Bucky strikes up conversations with familiar customers - frequent flyers whose names he already knows by heart. You catch bits and pieces of their easy small talk, but even then, his eyes always find their way back to you.

And every time you meet them, your heart swells with hope that perhaps the reason he came in early for his shift might be you.

****

Your week has been nothing short of overwhelming and frustrating - packed with assignments, papers to write, and facts to memorize. To top it off, a fellow student had yelled at you for breaking his pen, and you still remember that disappointed glint in your professor's eyes after failing to give him satisfying answers in class.

It feels like you are constantly juggling everything at once, and somehow, the balance has tipped entirely.

Sleep has become a rare luxury, replaced by caffeine-fueled study sessions that stretch into the early hours of the morning.

As you walk to the café for your afternoon shift, a heavy sigh escapes your lips, the exhaustion settling in your bones.

You rarely work afternoon shifts, but this one fits perfectly behind your friday classes and you have been too swamped the rest of the week to pick up any shifts at all.

Your pace is slower than usual, feet dragging slightly on the pavement. There is no real need to hurry today. Normally, your steps would quicken as you approached the café, that familiar, sweet sign with its three big B’s always managing to lift your mood.

But today the excitement isn’t there. Not when you know Bucky has the day off. Without him there, the urgency to get to work just isn’t the same.

But, thinking about it, it might be for the best that Bucky is not around today. You can’t imagine you look all that appealing right now, with dark bags under your eyes - the kind that no amount of concealer could hide. Your skin has that worn-out, dull shimmer to it - the kind that no amount of caffeine could mask.

You catch a glimpse of your reflection in a shop window as you pass and wince slightly. The fatigue shows in your features, and for a moment, you’re thankful that this day won’t include the possibility of Bucky catching sight of you in this state.

You’re partly relieved to have a shift where you can simply focus on getting through it without feeling self-conscious. There is no need to hide how utterly drained you feel because you really couldn’t care less how your appearance would affect your customers. You just need to make it through these few hours, go home, and hopefully, finally get some rest.

You pull open the door, gathering what little composure you can muster. The all-known blend of rich coffee, baked pastries, and warm, cozy air greets you as always, along with the chatter from the packed room. It’s busy, as expected for this time of day, but the environment surprisingly helps ground you as you weave your way through the crowd, slipping between patrons.

Your eyes catch Winifred at the back, her beaming smile a quick but comforting sight before she disappears behind the office door with a wave.

Side-stepping two men chatting near the line, you get a clearer view of the counter and freeze - feet refusing to continue.

Thanks to the work schedule you know who your coworkers are today. Peter was assigned, as well as Wanda, a nice, but slightly odd girl with a thick accent and laser-like focus on her task.

You had prepared for them both. But it isn’t Wanda standing next to Peter behind the counter.

It’s Bucky.

Your heart jumps into your throat and you’re not sure if it’s because of the surprise of seeing him or because of how unprepared you feel in this exact moment. You didn’t even check your hair in a car window before entering.

He’s here - on his supposed day off - laughing with a guy on the other side of the counter as he works the espresso machine, his movements smooth and practiced; no surprise there. His presence is so casual and effortless that you find yourself thinking your tired eyes might have looked at the wrong day on the schedule and perhaps you aren’t even supposed to work today. Though Winifred wasn’t at all surprised to see you.

Your head spins at the simple thought and yet a ripple of warmth shoots through you at the sight of him, making you momentarily forget just how drained you are.

While every fiber of your being wants to feel self-conscious about your tired eyes and the imperfections on your skin, craving to stay hidden between the line of people, the longer you watch him work, it gets overtaken by something else.

That same old lightness that seems to follow him wherever he goes and sticks to you when you’re near enough, soaking into your veins and filling them with energy. You can practically feel them fizzle.

You would have liked to linger in this moment just a little longer, but it’s cut short abruptly when he spots you. His polite smile brightens instantly, eyebrows moving up slightly as his eyes lighten up.

You flash him a smile in return, though you can feel it wobble at the edges, probably more sheepish than anything else. Maybe it even comes off as a grimace with the exhaustion weighing on you, but you quickly break eye contact and resume walking.

For a moment, you make out Bucky’s hand pausing mid-motion, hovering above the counter before he slides a to-go cup to the waiting guy on the other side.

Passing by, you can feel his gaze trailing after you, burning softly against your skin, a quiet but intense presence that follows you even when you’re not looking.

You busy yourself with dialing in for the shift, wrapping your apron around your waist, doing your best to shake off the fatigue and the flutter that Bucky’s unexpected presence elicits in you.

From behind you, you catch the sound of his voice, though it sounds a little distracted, asking the next customer to repeat their order.

You glance back, quickly greeting Peter as you pass, but your focus is drawn to the pastry case, where a small woman waits for service. You keep your hands moving, bagging up her choice of pastries - two croissants and four scones - but make out Bucky’s head turning in your direction a few times.

You steal a glance at him from the corner of your eye, noticing the slight furrow in his brow as he works. He’s a little slower now, less sure in his movements than when you first walked in. It’s subtle, but you can tell his focus is slipping. Something about his energy has shifted.

Minutes pass and the three of you stay busy with the steady stream of customers. You remain behind the pastry case, preparing the treats for the eager crowd. In between transactions, you notice Bucky taking a step in your direction, hesitating each time like he wants to step closer but keeps pulling himself back at the last second.

He returns to the register every time, tending to the next person in line, but there is an urgency in his movements now. His hands got quicker again, fingers tapping impatiently against the counter as he waits for the coffee to brew and his gaze falls back to you every so often but you avoid it.

Another few minutes tick by and you begin to settle into the rhythm of the shift when a sudden shout rings out from the front.

Your head snaps up, eyes locking onto the group of people stepping back from the counter hastily, startled by the splash of coffee that arcs through the air.

The cup that had caused the commotion clinks against the counter, slipping in Bucky’s hand and his other one shoots out to hold it steady before it can meet the ground alongside the coffee that was in it moments before.

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” Bucky exclaims, his voice thick with frustration as he shakes his head at himself, wiping the spilled brown liquor from his hands. He quickly puts away the cup and apologizes again to the man it was meant for and the crowd of people who got startled.

The customer, a guy who looks to be in his mid-twenties, holds up his hands in a placating gesture, clearly not bothered by the accident. His jacket sleeve is stained with coffee, but he brushes it off with a casual shrug. “No worries, man, really. Nothing happened, you’re good!”

Bucky doesn’t seem to relax. You can see the tension in his jaw, the way his shoulders are still tight as he remakes the drink with stiff, almost mechanical precision. You’ve never seen him so rattled but then again, he has been unfocused ever since he saw you.

Work continues steadily for the next half hour, with the rush of patrons finally starting to taper off. The café gradually empties, the throng thinning out until only a handful of people remain, some of them sitting in booths going on with their conversations.

You catch sight of Bucky leaning in closer to Peter, murmuring something you can’t quite make out. Peter nods, and without another word and a small pat on Peter’s shoulder, Bucky steps back from the counter.

This time, his hesitation is gone as he strides over to you.

He stops beside you, eyes on your profile. “Hey,” he speaks softly, voice low.

You finish helping a boy, thanking him for the tip before turning to Bucky with a small smile.

“Hey,” you reply, voice matching his softness but quieter. You turn your attention to the young girl in front of you, requesting a cookie. Reaching for a bag to tuck the treat inside, you continue the conversation, though your eyes stay focused downward.

“Didn’t expect to see you here today,” you comment, sensing his gaze on you.

“Yeah, uh, I took Wanda’s shift,” Bucky responds, his voice a little more tentative now. You notice him shuffling slightly beside you, standing up straighter.

He offers no further explanation as to why he picked up the shift, and you don’t feel the energy to ask about it. For some reason, the simple act of bagging a cookie while talking to him feels like a juggling act your tired brain isn’t quite up for.

So all you manage is a noncommittal hum in response.

The girl leaves with her cookie and Bucky stays beside you, solid and unyielding in his gaze. It presses on you like a weight as the moments pass.

Your stomach flutters uneasily when you realize there’s no line left to distract you, no excuse to stay busy.

You move automatically, reaching for the paper bags, rearranging them with a bit more force than necessary, trying to give yourself something to focus on, something other than Bucky’s eyes burning into you.

“Are you okay?” he asks finally, slowly and lowly, as if the question is something private meant only for you. It is. You feel the shift in his tone, the way he leans in slightly as if he needs a sincere answer to his sincere question.

It pulls your attention to him and you reluctantly lift your head, your heart twisting at the sight. Bucky gazes down at you with an expression far more serious than you’ve ever seen. His blue eyes, usually filled with a glimmering light when he looks at you, hold an amount of concern that seems to have an impact on his stiff muscles.

“I’m fine, Bucky,” you declare gently, smiling at him in hopes it’ll reassure him, though even before the words have left your lips completely, you felt it wasn’t entirely convincing.

Bucky studies you a moment longer. His eyes trace your features, dark brows hanging low, but you don’t take your words back.

Then, after a pause he lets out a long drawn sigh, hanging his head in defeat. He obviously doesn’t believe you, but he doesn’t push it. The concern in his eyes remains but he lets it go, stepping back from you slowly.

He walks over to the coffee machines, deliberately trying to feign casualness. He grabs a cup and turns the familiar button after checking if Peter needs some help at the register, the whirring sound of brewing coffee filling the brief silence between you.

“You want some coffee?” he asks, like clockwork - just as he does every time you work together.

Without thinking, you open your mouth to decline, as usual. It’s almost muscle memory at this point, your automatic response. But then, mid-through, you pause. Another shot of caffeine can’t hurt. You can use the energy to get home safely without passing out after this shift.

The cup fills, steam rises, and Bucky turns to you when you take too long to answer.

You hesitate for a beat, then shift your gaze away, feeling a little awkward. “Yeah, I’ll take one,” you decide, stepping beside him to grab yourself a cup, eyes not moving to him.

But before you can reach for one, Bucky’s hand wraps gently around your wrist, halting you. The touch is light, but enough to make your pulse quicken. “Hold on,” he remarks, his voice filled with concern rather than confusion. “You never want coffee when I ask.” His intense eyes search your face again.

“If you always expect me to say no, then why do you keep asking?”

Bucky doesn’t respond immediately. He just keeps looking at you, quietly pleading for honesty. “That ain’t the point,” he softy counters but his voice carries insistence. “Something’s wrong.”

You sigh. God, you’re tired. You really need that coffee and you’d certainly feel terrible for getting annoyed at Bucky. He’s just trying to figure you out. He cares. That thought alone presses against the wall you’ve been trying to maintain all day.

Gently, you pull your wrist from his loose grip, and he lets his hand fall back to his side, though his gaze doesn’t waver.

“Nothing’s wrong.” Damn, that came out hollow. “I’m just a little stressed,” you add when he starts to shake his head, “and I could use a cup. It’s just coffee, Bucky.”

You see the muscles in his jaw tighten and his hand comes up to run through his hair.

“It’s not just coffee, darling,” he sighs. There’s a pause in which he assesses you again, then he continues. “Alright. Don’t take this the wrong way, doll. You know you’re a beautiful gal, but… you look like you’re about to drop dead.”

Your eyebrows shoot up. It looks like tiredness comes with an attitude, because your mind foregoes the part where he called you beautiful, only hearing the other side.

“Well.” You draw out the word. “If you don’t want me to drop dead, then let me have some coffee.” There is a bit of edge to your tone you hadn’t exactly intended, but you’re too tired to smooth it out. You also don’t wait for him to respond, quickly reaching for another cup and pressing the button before Bucky can grab your arm again.

Bucky stays quiet for a moment, watching you with those piercing blue eyes that seem to see right through your walls. He doesn’t look angry - just worried.

As the coffee pours you hear him take a breath. “Alright,” Bucky says quietly, almost under his breath. “I’m sorry, Y/n,” he adds after a short pause. Firmness, sincerity, and perhaps an amount of regret are all wrapped in his tone.

He used your name. You haven’t heard him say your name since the first time working here. And never with that much conviction.

“I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m just… worried.” His voice softens even more, it sounds almost pleading and he takes a quick glance back at Peter, who was busy attending to the few patrons mingling about, before refocusing on you, his hand brushing over his hair. “I’ve seen you stressed before. Like when you kept going on about how worried you were for that exam. I watched you go through the stuff you had to learn in your head while remaining so incredibly focused and sweet during work. I admire that, Y/n. I must’ve told you a thousand times you’d ace it, but you wouldn’t believe me.” He chuckles lowly, sheepishly, and he licks his lips, before continuing. His gaze leaves you, mind seemingly far in his memories.

“Or your first day here. You were so nervous about making a mistake. You asked so many questions, were so interested in everything. I kept thinking about you all day. Every day, really.” He took another deep breath. It comes out a little unsteady and his eyes quickly flicker over to you, not quite meeting your own, but still searching your features.

“But this… this is different, and- I don’t know. I don’t like it. Hate it, honestly. Seeing you like this.”

His words hit you deep. The genuine concern and sincerity in his tone make your chest tighten, throat closing up and you feel yourself losing your breath as he takes a small step closer, eyes now fully on yours again. The nerves in his voice that had been there are gone now. Because he’s sure of what he says next. It’s clear in his tone.

“But, sweetheart, even through it all, you still manage to be the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. Drop dead gorgeous, honestly.”

You let out a surprised huff of laughter, partly because it’s easier than acknowledging and processing the meaning of his words. Heat creeps up your cheeks and all you feel like doing is bolt out of the door at the other end of the room but your feet are rooted to the spot. Perhaps, the floor would just give away and you’d fall deep down into the unknown.

That still would be kinder than standing in front of Bucky right now after his heavy confessions, feeling too vulnerable under his soft gaze.

You’re not able to meet his eyes, dropping your head. You know he is still looking at you. You don’t have to feel it to know it. That gentle expression, the reassuring smile - like he’s silently conveying that everything’s okay.

“Let me make you feel better, yeah?” Bucky’s voice is barely above a whisper, gentle, yet filled with intent. He gives you a moment, letting his earlier confessions sink in, before taking hold of the now full cup that is meant for you. Your eyes widen slightly when you see him grab the can of freshly steamed milk, an almost eager smile tugging at his lips.

“Are you pulling your latte art on me?” you ask with a light laugh, some of the tension in your chest loosening. There is a little bit of a teasing note in your voice now, your heartbeat beginning to slow.

“Sure am, doll!” Bucky grins proudly, lifting the cup higher. His brow furrows in concentration as he carefully pours the milk with a steady hand, his tongue briefly poking out as he narrows his eyes to get the design just right. You had seen him do this many times before but never for you.

The precision and dedication he’s giving to something as simple as your coffee makes your heart swell. You’re the one watching him now with a soft smile, utterly mesmerized by how serious he’s taking it.

You take a glance at the other cup - the one Bucky had made for himself and an idea hits you. Steam still rises from the liquid inside, the scent of fresh coffee meeting your nose.

You look around the counter, spotting the milk pot Peter had just set down and, without a second thought, you pick up Bucky’s cup, ready to return the favor. You lift the milk and begin to pour.

“What are you doing, doll?” Bucky’s gaze stays fixed on the cup in his hand, but his smile is beaming, curiosity lacing his words.

“I don’t think I need to tell you that,” you retort, your voice playful as you guide the milk with careful precision, weaving your hand in the practiced motions until you’re satisfied with the design.

Bucky’s chuckle is warm and soft and for a moment, it feels like the world shrinks down to just the two of you, the quiet intimacy cutting through the noise of the ebbing café.

Bucky finishes his work and sets the milk pot back down. There is a slight hesitation in his movements as he hands over the cup for you, a touch of nervousness creeping into his stance. You smile up at him and offer the cup in your hand to him. His hands are a little clammy as they touch yours. You swap coffees.

Your mouth falls open as you take a glance down into the cup. In the creamy white foam, a delicate rose is perfectly etched, its petals spiraling gracefully outward. Surrounding the rose are tiny, intricate hearts, floating around the bloom. The detail is so mesmerizing that all you can do is stare at it.

“This is incredible, Bucky,” you breathe out, voice filled with amazement. When you look up, he’s already watching you. He’s breathing deeply and his smile is in place. But there is also something in his eyes he doesn’t try to hold back - pure adoration, shining clearly like he just can’t hide it anymore.

He holds his own cup carefully, as if it’s something precious, something fragile, as if even the tiniest movement would mess up the heart in white swirling in his cup. Though, you feel like the simple heart pales in comparison to the masterpiece he’s created for you.

“It’s beautiful,” you say quietly, a hint of shyness in your tone. You feel a tiny amount of embarrassment but Bucky just keeps smiling, so warm and incredibly fond, that any hint of insecurity melts away.

“Learned it for you,” he admits it softly, his words slipping out like a secret he’s been holding onto for too long. Your heart skips a beat, eyes widening slightly before you look back down at the cup, tracing the design over and over again with your gaze.

“I love it, Bucky. I love these little hearts,” you address admiringly, almost dreamily.

Bucky is beaming above you, and although he shakes his head softly, his smile never leaves his face. He takes in a deep breath, seemingly needing to compose himself and looks down at his own cup, at the heart in it.

“Well,” he vocalizes, affection surrounded by a playful edge, “my heart’s bigger.”

You laugh, rolling your eyes playfully. “Don’t flatter yourself, Barnes. It’s the only thing I know how to do.”

He chuckles, that vibrating sound, that always makes your chest feel lighter. “I can teach you,” he offers, his bright blues looking deeply into your eyes, so full of affection that it makes your breath catch for a second.

And in that second - because that’s all it takes - everything shifts. For the better. Always for the better, because it’s hard to feel anything negative when Bucky smiles at you the way he does.

“you deserve

the kind of love

like hot coffee between your lips

that loves you gently

but makes you bold

and gives you life between the sips”

- a.b.

#elixirscafe #barista!Bucky #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky fic #college!reader #marvel bucky barnes

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