#and not just watch but APPRECIATE as well

[navybrat817]

Cooking Together

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky asks you to cook a meal with him.

Word Count: Over 1.5k

Warnings: Fluff, longing, pining, canon divergent neighbor AU, flirting of sorts, mention of HYDRA, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Short and sweet for @stellar-solar-flare’s Starry Winter Sky Event! I went with cooking together and Neighbor AU as a small expansion of this nonsense. February has had some lingering January energy, and I hope you enjoy what I was able to write! ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

If you asked Bucky if he thought he was a good cook, he’d say he was decent. He retained some of what his mom taught him many years ago and he carefully followed recipes once he was completely free of HYDRA. It was admittedly a bit of a rough go at first. Being able to choose what he could eat was a foreign concept after he didn't have the choice for so long. It got better each day. Every single meal he got to reclaim a piece of himself by making the choice of what he did and didn’t want.

Until today, he always cooked alone.

“Thanks for inviting me over,” you smiled, graciously accepting the apron he handed you.

Bucky had moved into the building a few months ago and you lived across the hall. As far as neighbors went, you were the best. Since day one, you always greeted him with a smile and a kind word. You never played your music too loud or disturbed anyone. Alpine adored you, which told him everything he needed to know since she was the best judge of character. And you never once objected to looking out for her when he had to leave for a mission.

Out of paranoia, he left harmless little “traps” to see if you'd snoop through anything the very first time you went over. Nothing that would hurt you or draw your attention, of course, but something that would let him know if anyone tampered with anything. You didn't. You were a genuinely good and respectful person, and that made him trust you more.

“Thanks for accepting the invitation. And allow me,” he offered, stepping behind you to help you tie it. His fingers lingered on the fabric and he took the moment to inhale your sweet scent before he stepped away. He didn't want to be a creep. “And it’s the least I could do since you offered to watch Alpine. Again.”

“I love watching her. She’s wonderful.”

The photos you sent were something he always looked forward to when he was away. Some of the captions you added made him laugh and smile. His favorite was a selfie you took with Alpine’s cheek against yours. He saved it as “my girls”, which you weren’t aware of.

Because you technically weren’t his girl.

“Well, she adores you,” Bucky smiled. He adored you, too. It stunned him when he found out you were single, and he was selfishly thankful for that. 

“I’ll have to get her another toy,” you said, your lips curling in a small smile. “If that’s okay with you.”

He laughed, a warm and easy sound. “Between the two of us, she’s spoiled rotten and she wouldn’t want it any other way.”

He never expected to be a cat dad, but life surprised him. In fact, it also surprised him that Alpine wasn’t camping out nearby or brushing against one of your legs. She was a smart cat and likely somehow sensed that he wanted alone time with you.

“Well, she deserves it,” you winked before things went quiet.

One of the nice things about hanging out with you was that he didn't mind any bouts of silence. They didn’t feel awkward or tense. In those quiet moments and stolen glances he felt like he had the best conversations with you. He was happy and felt safe being in the same space as you.

“You know,” Bucky began as he set the ingredients on the counter. He lucked out by having a decent sized kitchen since he took up a lot of space. “If I was a better neighbor, I would've just cooked a meal for you while you relaxed.”

It felt romantic for the two of you to cook together, but you weren't together and now he felt like an idiot. A gentleman would've made you a meal and pampered you. Or take you out for a nice meal. He hadn’t dressed up, opting for his jeans and a trademark Henley while you wore a sundress that had his mind racing with both sweet and filthy images. He didn't have flowers for you either.

His “game”, as Sam would say, was rusty.

“You're a great neighbor, Bucky. The best neighbor I’ve had,” you defended. He tried to be a good neighbor and person. A minor way to make up for some of his forced wrongdoings. “And cooking something together is fun! We could even try something at my place next week if you'd like.”

Bucky almost knocked the salt over, his eyes wide. “Really?” You were inviting him over to do this again?

“Yeah, really,” you replied, taking a moment to scan the simple recipe in the cookbook. You always had the cutest expression when you concentrated on something, and he didn’t want to choose something too difficult for the first meal. “We can take turns picking things out to try and trade off cooking at your place and mine. You can even bring Alpine over if you want.”

He suddenly had the image of you in his arms, dancing around the kitchen as you both waited for a meal in the oven to cook. Soft music, low lighting, his hands on your hips, and a tender smile on your face. Stealing a gentle kiss and keeping his eyes open only for a moment so he could see for himself that it wasn't a dream.

“Yeah,” he breathed, pulling his hair back in a ponytail and washing his hands to distract himself from his thoughts. “I’d really like that.”

“Great,” you exhaled. His heart beat faster when he caught you staring. He liked to pretend the look in your eyes was longing. “Sorry. You just…” you cleared your throat and gestured to his head. “You have really nice hair.”

The compliment had his heart racing even faster. “I have nice hair?” he asked. Your fingers would feel amazing in his hair.

You ducked your head for a moment before you met his gaze with a soft smile. “Yeah, you do.”

“Thanks,” he smiled back, his shoulder brushing yours when he stood beside you. Electricity lightly cracked between you. Did you feel it, too? “Um, I peeled the carrots before you got here. Would you like to cut them?”

“Oh, I think you’re better with a knife than I am,” you giggled.

He puffed his chest out and twirled the knife he selected in his hand without thinking about it. Part of him was showing off because, well, he wanted you to stare again. “How about I help you?”

“Help me? How?” you asked.

“Here.” He placed the knife in your hand and stood behind you once he had the carrots on the cutting board. “I’m going to preface this by saying I’m far from an expert, but I usually cut them into decent sized pieces before I dice them.”

“I trust your judgement,” you said, glancing over your shoulder. Your faces were close enough that he could kiss you if he leaned in a fraction. But he didn’t. He wouldn’t take what you didn’t offer.

Carefully placing his hands over yours once you faced forward, he felt that electricity crackle again as he helped guide you. He angled his hips so he didn’t press against you, but still stayed close. “See? You’re a natural,” he whispered against your ear when you made the first cut through the vegetable.

He heard the hitch in your breath and how your blood rushed faster in your veins. He felt your skin warm under his touch as you cut the next piece. He also caught the slight tremble that went through your frame when his grip tightened, but he didn’t sense any fear. He hadn't detected any sort of fear or disgust since he came into your life.

But what he sensed in this very moment was excitement.

“Thanks, Bucky,” you whispered back. The way you spoke his name was breathy, beautiful, and he longed to hear that again. “You’re a great teacher.”

“I’m not,” he said, thankful your back was to him so you wouldn’t see the pink that tinted his cheeks. “But I appreciate it.”

“Yeah, you are,” you stated, tempting him to turn your head toward him to kiss you. If he did that and you stabbed him, he wouldn’t blame you or hold it against you. “And Bucky?”

“Yeah?”

“I really am glad you invited me over,” you said.

He stopped himself from putting his face in the crook of your neck. “I am, too,” he said, smiling to himself as he helped you finish up. “And now that you’ve mastered the carrots, we can chop the onions.”

“Onions? Oh, no,” you groaned playfully.

As the sound of both of you laughing a second later filled the room, Bucky was glad he went with his gut and asked for you two to cook together.

And maybe before the night was over, he’d ask you out on a date and prove to himself that his game wasn't completely hopeless.

I wonder just how he'll ask you out! Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[woso-dreamzzz]

Loud II

Mapi León x Reader x Ingrid Engen

Summary: You really need to stay quiet

*TW: light sexual content*

You whine into Mapi's mouth as she kisses you, tongue slipping into your mouth easily as you try to get even closer to her, sat atop her lap and rocking.

"Don't be too loud," Ingrid warns from her sport on the armchair in the corner, a light flush to her cheeks as she watches, chest heaving with pants," Or we'll have unwanted visitors."

You and Mapi don't really listen though.

You're usually good listeners, to Ingrid at least, but your noise levels can never be policed.

Especially if you're unbuttoning Mapi's shirt and gently running your fingers over her bare skin.

She gasps into your mouth, head tipping back to moan when you move to attach your lips to her neck.

"Another hickey?" Ingrid asks from her spot watching you both, legs thrown over the arms of the seat casually like she's watching her favourite show.

She probably is.

"Make sure to really mark her up," She continues," So she remembers what's going to happen tonight."

Mapi's hips jerk upwards when you suck at a particularly sensitive part of her neck. Her moans turn more into a whine, high pitched and loud as you bite down with a smug smirk.

"Don't make me come over there and gag you," Ingrid warns, eyes flashing with something deliciously dangerous at the threat.

It wouldn't be the first time she'd threatened to do that. It wouldn't be the first time she'd followed through either.

She'd have to be creative though. She certainly hadn't packed what she usually uses at home for this trip but you'd always enjoyed when Ingrid got a bit creative.

Especially when you could watch her get creative with Mapi, who threads her fingers through your hair to keep you at that sensitive spot.

"You...You try to be quiet when you've got an angel sucking at your neck," Mapi pants out, whining when you grind more firmly onto her lap.

"An angel?" You grin against her skin," Clearly, I'm not doing this right if you think I'm an angel." You look into her eyes and wink. "After all, I'm just warming you up for Ingrid."

You go back to sucking on her neck, littering Mapi with hickeys as her head raises to look at Ingrid, completely relaxed and only a little flushed from her seat in the corner watching.

"I-"

She's cut off though by the sharp rapping of knuckles on the door and you both freeze, heads trying to strain around the corner like you suddenly gained x-ray vision to see who could be waiting on the other side.

"Why did you stop?" Ingrid asks, elegantly getting to her feet with a smile.

"We..." You say," There's someone at the door..."

"Yes. That doesn't explain why you stopped."

"But the door-"

"I'll get the door," Ingrid waves a dismissive hand. "And I want you both suitably warmed up for me by the time I'm back." She winks. "You two will just have to be very quiet."

It doesn't sound like a difficult task but the moment Mapi's lips are on yours again, you know both of you are struggling to choke down the moans and whines threatening to spill out.

"Ingrid." It's Alexia's voice that you hear when the door is finally swung open.

"Alexia?" Ingrid replies and you can just tell she'll be wearing that confused face that she's perfected so well just for situations like these. "What is it? I thought we were done for the day. Have we missed a meeting?"

"No," Alexia says," No, nothing like that. Listen, I have no issues if you're going to let Mapi and y/n play cards but, please, can you tell them to quieten down?

You clumsily grind down against Mapi and she bites at your lip to force herself not to let a moan slip out.

"I can try," Ingrid lies," But you know how they get when they're playing cards. I can't always keep them quiet."

"So long as you try," Alexia agrees," Even just a tiny bit quieter? The walls are thick so it's not terrible but even just a little less noise will be appreciated."

"I'll make sure they're quieter," Ingrid promises, drumming her fingers on the door just as you drag Mapi into another heated kiss," Is that it?"

"That's it," Alexia says," Thanks."

"No problem."

The minute you hear the door swing shut, Mapi moans into your mouth, hands on your hips trying to guide your grinding exactly where she needs you.

"So," Ingrid says as she crawls onto the bed behind you, hooking her chin over your shoulder and pushing you and Mapi a tad more firmly together," It looks like you two might really get gagged after all."

[svtiddiess]

Prescription For Pussy

Synopsis: With Mingyu hidden under your desk as the intern keeps you occupied, you can’t resist the urge to tease him. But your playful antics only seem to fuel his desperation, turning him into a whimpering, eager puppy beneath you.

Pairing: husband!nurse!Mingyu x wife!doctor!reader ft. medical intern!Chan

Genre: smut, established relationship, non-idol!au, medical! au, mini-series

Rating: mature

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: petnames (puppy), public sex (Chan is in the room with them but can't see what they're doing), sub!Mingyu, dom!Y/N, oral (fem receiving), fingering, dry humping, Mingyu cumming in his pants, lemme know if I missed anything!

Note: Suprise! You thought the 1k celebration was done? Nope! Have another special bonus from me featuring the Sex Education couple. Enjoy!

Thank you so much to @seokgyuu, @gyubakeries, and @ylangelegy for beta reading!

And thank you to my twin @tomodachiii for helping me with the plot!

Click here to join my taglist!

Read on ao3

Reblogs are appreciated ♡

.ᐟMinors/blank/no age indicator blogs will be blocked.ᐟ

Raising an eyebrow, you fold your arms across your chest and fix Mingyu with a deadpan look as he casually makes himself comfortable on your desk.

"Don't you have better things to do than bother me?" you sigh.

"Nope," he replies, popping the 'p' with a playful grin, his legs swinging like a carefree child. "Finished all my tasks for my shift. The other nurses are doing their rounds, so I thought, why not spend some quality time with my lovely wife?"

Shaking your head, you let out another sigh and step closer. Placing your arms on either side of him, you trap him between you and the desk.

"Well, your lovely wife is a busy doctor with plenty to do, dear husband," you tease with a grin.

"My wife is so smart and successful," he says with a giggle. "I’m so proud she became a doctor."

You laugh softly and lean in, pressing a tender kiss to his lips. "Well, I was lucky to have the best tutor," you grin.

"And I was lucky to have a very hot student," he purrs in response.

"You were," you chuckle, wrapping your arms around his neck and resting them on the back of his head. "It was adorable how oblivious you were to my flirting," you tease, watching his cheeks flush red.

"I wasn’t oblivious," he whines.

"Then why were you acting like such a loser?" you prod, giggling.

"Because I was shy," he defends with a pout. "You were so pretty, and I didn’t want to ruin it by doing something stupid."

"You thought I was pretty?" you tilt your head, laughing softly.

"Mhm," he hums, pulling you closer by the waist. "Prettiest girl I’ve ever laid my eyes on. And luckily for me, I somehow managed to make her my wife," he whispers against your lips.

You giggle and close the distance, your lips meeting his in a warm kiss. Mingyu hums softly into it, the vibrations sending a rush of electricity through your body. You tilt your head, deepening the kiss, your tongues moving in perfect sync. The moment grows heated, the room suddenly feels much warmer. Mingyu’s hand sneaks down to your butt, giving it a playful squeeze that elicits a soft moan from you.

Just as the atmosphere turns steamy—

Knock, knock!

A sudden knock snaps you both out of the moment. You jolt apart, eyes wide in panic as the sound rings out again.

"Dr. Y/N, may I come in?"

It’s Chan, the intern. You glance at Mingyu, who looks equally alarmed, and in a flash of desperation, you grab him and push him under the desk. He shoots you a bewildered look, but you quickly whisper for him to stay put.

Smoothing out your shirt and skirt, you sit down at your desk and call out, "Come in!"

Chan peeks his head through the door, offering a sheepish smile.

"Sorry, am I interrupting something?" he asks hesitantly.

"Not at all," you reply with your most professional smile, silently praying that the blush on your cheeks has faded. "Please, come in and have a seat."

Chan, a newly assigned intern at the hospital, is a bit naive but undeniably intelligent and brimming with enthusiasm for learning. As he starts asking questions from his recent rotation, you respond with a sense of gratitude, appreciating his passion for becoming a doctor.

Midway through answering, it dawns on you that Mingyu is still hidden beneath your desk. A mischievous thought crosses your mind, and you subtly slip your foot out of your heel, resting it on Mingyu. Feeling his hand wrap around your ankle, you fight to keep a straight face, resisting the urge to smirk.

You subtly move your foot toward his crotch, feeling him tense under your touch. Applying gentle pressure, you hear a soft groan escape his lips, and you bite your bottom lip to stifle a laugh.

While maintaining your conversation with Chan, you discreetly shift your chair back just enough to catch a glimpse of Mingyu in your peripheral vision. You spot him covering his mouth with one hand to muffle any sounds while his other hand guides your foot over his crotch, his expression betraying his struggle to stay composed.

You dig your heel into Mingyu's growing bulge, and you see Mingyu shut his eyes and throw his head back. A giggle slips from your lips, but you quickly disguise it with a light cough.

"Are you okay, Doctor?" Chan asks, his voice filled with concern.

"I'm fine," you reply with a smile. "Just a dry throat."

Without hesitation, Chan springs to his feet. "I'll grab you a bottle of water," he offers earnestly before hurrying out of the room.

The moment the door closes, you push your chair back slightly and glance down at Mingyu, a sly smirk playing on your lips.

Mingyu shifts his position and starts humping your leg. You laugh at his desperate state.

"Such a pathetic puppy, using my leg to get off," you mock him, and he responds with a soft whine. His movements get faster and faster, desperate to reach his high.

When you hear the door unlock, you quickly shift back to your original position, but Mingyu doesn't let up, continuing to hump your leg. Chan returns with a bottle of water, which you accept with a grateful smile. Taking a quick sip, you nod and encourage him to continue with his question.

Chan continues his questions, completely unaware of what's happening below your desk. Mingyu's movement starts to become erratic, accidental whimpers and moans escape his lips.

Chan pauses, looking around the room with a puzzled expression. "Dr. Y/N, did you hear that?" he asks.

"Hear what?" you respond, trying to brush it off.

"N-Never mind, I think I just imagined it," he says after a moment of hesitation.

You quickly shift the topic of conversation, and Chan soon forgets about the sound. You press your foot against Mingyu's groin as a warning, earning a muffled groan from him.

You feel Mingyu's hand kneading your thigh, and when you subtly glance down, you catch sight of a very hot and flustered Mingyu looking up at you with a pleading expression, silently begging you to wrap up the conversation and send Chan away. But you only smirk in return and move your leg against his crotch, causing his eyes to roll back and a silent moan to leave his lips.

As you glance back at Chan, your leg continues to brush against Mingyu's crotch, feeling his growing desperation for release. Suddenly, without warning, Mingyu's hands spread your legs apart. Your eyebrows knit together in confusion, but you maintain a calm demeanor. A shiver runs through you as his hand trails up your leg, leaving goosebumps in its wake, and you shift slightly, caught between surprise and anticipation.

You bite your bottom lip as Mingyu shifts your panties to the side, suppressing a shiver when the cool air brushes against your exposed core. Without warning, his fingers slide into you, drawing a sharp, surprised gasp from your lips.

"Dr. Y/N? Is everything okay?" Chan asks, his voice tinged with concern.

"N-No! It's nothing," you stammer, your voice trembling. "I just thought…I left the stove on at home. But then I remembered I didn't." Mingyu lets out a quiet chuckle at your pathetic excuse while Chan gives you a puzzled look. Thankfully, he seems to buy your lie and moves on with his questions, leaving you to deal with the heat rising in your cheeks.

Mingyu slowly slips his fingers in and out of your pussy, and you bite your bottom lip to try and prevent yourself from moaning. You try to close your legs but Mingyu's strong hand holds them open. He slowly picks up his pace, and you feel your body heat up; you really hope that Chan doesn't see the blush dusting your cheeks.

A soft whimper nearly slips past your lips as Mingyu slides another finger inside you. Your hands grip the edge of the desk, nails digging into the wood as you silently hope Chan doesn't notice the faint, wet sounds coming from beneath the desk. Your body tenses when Mingyu’s fingers brush against your G-spot, sending a jolt of pleasure through you that leaves you craving more.

"C-Chan!" you blurt out, cutting him off mid-sentence, then quickly clear your throat, flustered. "Can we, um, continue this discussion another time? There are a few things I need to take care of soon," you say, trying to sound composed as you urge him to leave.

"Oh! Of course, Dr. Y/N. I’m so sorry for taking up your time," Chan replies apologetically, quickly gathering his things and exiting the room. The moment the door clicks shut, you’re left alone with Mingyu once again, the tension between you palpable.

You immediately roll your chair back and grab Mingyu by his hair, yanking him closer as you lean down with a scowl. He meets your glare with a playful smirk, unfazed by your irritation.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" you snap, your voice low and sharp.

"Just helping you get rid of Chan," he replies with a grin, his tone dripping with mischief. "And it worked, didn't it?"

You let out a scoff, tightening your grip on his hair until he lets out a soft whimper. "You're such an idiot," you mutter, though there’s a flicker of amusement in your voice.

"Maybe," he says, his smirk widening. "But hey, I might not be a gynaecologist, babe, but I know my way around your pussy."

Rolling your eyes, you tug harder on his hair, earning another whimper. "Oh yeah? Prove it, then, puppy. Make me cum with your fingers."

With a devilish grin, Mingyu picks up the pace, his fingers relentlessly targeting that spongy spot that turns your mind to mush. A string of curses spills from your lips as you throw your head back, spreading your legs wider to give him better access. The tension in your stomach coils tighter and tighter with every thrust of his fingers, the room echoing with the lewd, wet sounds of your arousal.

"I-I'm close," you whimper, your body trembling as it edges toward release.

Mingyu's free hand sneaks to your clit, tracing slow, deliberate circles over the sensitive nub. The sensation sends a sharp moan tearing from your throat as you finally tip over the edge, your body convulsing with waves of euphoria.

After a few more pumps, Mingyu pulls his fingers out and brings them to his mouth, sucking your juices off with a satisfied hum. "Always so sweet," he murmurs, his smirk widening.

"Yeah? Then you should have more," you growl, snatching his glasses off and tossing them onto the desk. Grabbing a fistful of his hair, you yank him forward, pressing his face firmly against your cunt.

Without hesitation, Mingyu dives in, eagerly lapping up your juices as his hands grip your thighs, spreading them even wider. Despite still being sensitive from your last orgasm, you tug sharply on his hair, pulling him closer as your body arches and writhes under his touch.

Shaky moans and breathless whimpers escape your lips as his tongue teases and prods at your entrance. Mingyu’s own muffled moans vibrate against you, sending jolts of electricity coursing through your body. Feeling the familiar coil of pleasure tightening once more, you lose yourself in the sensation, grinding against his face as if he’s nothing more than your personal fuck toy, desperate for that second release.

With a low growl, Mingyu hooks your legs over his shoulders, burying his face deeper into your slick cunt, determined to make you cum on his tongue. Your moans grow louder, his name spilling from your lips like a mantra as you teeter on the edge of release. Just as you’re about to tip over, his nose brushes against your clit, and that’s all it takes to send you spiralling.

His name becomes a chant, a desperate prayer, as your second orgasm crashes over you. Waves of pleasure ripple through your body, leaving you trembling and breathless. Mingyu moans against you, savoring every drop as he laps up your arousal, refusing to let a single one go to waste.

After a few final, lingering licks, he gently sets your legs down, pressing a soft kiss to your inner thigh before tugging your panties back into place. You glance down at him, noticing the unmistakable damp spot on his pants, and a sly grin spreads across your face.

"Looks like someone came in their pants without even being touched," you tease, your voice dripping with amusement.

Mingyu smirks up at you, unashamed. "Can't help it when I've got such a pretty pussy in my mouth." You let out a soft chuckle as you reach for Mingyu’s glasses, carefully placing them back on his face. With a gentle touch, you smooth down his disheveled hair and wipe away the remnants of your arousal from his skin.

The two of you sit there, catching your breath, exchanging fucked-out smiles. But just as the moment settles, a sharp knock at the door shatters the quiet.

"Dr. Y/N, may I come in?"

Your eyes meet Mingyu's, and the two of you share a mischievous grin. In a flash, he ducks back under the desk, and you quickly smooth out your skirt, scooting your chair closer to the desk.

"Come in," you call out, your voice steady despite the smirk playing on your lips. As the door opens, you feel Mingyu's lips already trailing kisses along your leg, and you can’t help but grin.

Taglist: @tinyelfperson @gyuguys @stay-tiny-things @unlikelysublimekryptonite @miyx-amour @iamawkwardandshy @codeinebelle @brownbunnyb @do-you-remember-summer-127 @sclovreina @theidontknowmehn @toplinehyunjin @gyuhao365 @mysticfairies @cherrylovescheol @cookiearmy @4shypotato @lxnnrobin @sashaaahh @xueisaaa17 @aeriyell @eshia16 @dreamingofpcy @archivistworld @kyeomiis @iwannakisspoutycheol @aliiikareed @jennwonwoo @cherrybb96

[shayisnthere]

thinking about quidditchplayer!mattheo…

quidditchplayer!mattheo who begs you to watch him practice

“why wouldnt you want to watch your boyfriend fly around all hot and sweaty?”

quidditchplayer!mattheo who makes sure that you wear his jersey on game day so everyone knows who youre rooting for

“it looks better on you than it does on me!”

quidditchplayer!mattheo who pulls a few strings so that you have the best seat in the house at the game

“oh look, this spot just happens to be open!”

quidditchplayer!mattheo who sneaks glances at you throughout the game to make sure youre watching him

“did you see me y/n!?”

quidditchplayer!mattheo who immediately looks for you when he makes the winning move, earning slytherin the quidditch cup

“won it for you, love.”

quidditchplayer!mattheo who at the after party, not only shows off the trophy, but shows you off as well

“it was nothing. had my good luck charm watching the whole time, so it was no doubt we’d win.”

quidditchplayer!mattheo who drags you up to his room so you guys can have your own after party ;)

“why dont I show you how much I appreciate your support~”

[suiana]

if this post got recommended to you, you're mine.

there's no other explanation, no way out either.

you're mine. plain and simple.

i know, i know. you're probably weirded out and thinking who the hell i am. and that's perfectly reasonable! i mean, i did just appear on your screen less than a second ago and am suddenly declaring you as mine. totally weird and creepy.

but here's the thing, it's really not all that weird. not when i've been watching you for a very long time. a really, long time.

yeah, that's right. i live inside your computer. cool, huh? others call me a virus but i just like to say that i'm sentient. i'm not like those other lines of code that are merely programmed to harm you. in fact, i'd never want to hurt you!

i would rather appreciate and love you instead. wouldn't that be nice?

i'd spoil you and tell you how amazing you are. you'll never have to work for anything because i'll be there to take care of your wants and needs. everything you want is all yours, no questions asked. i'll take good care of you.

i know you want it too. i've seen the type of things you search up. it's cute, really cute.

and since valentine's is coming up, i just know you've been yearning for someone to give you some flowers! so here, have thse virtual ones :) they'll be good substitues for now. i'll get you real ones soon, don't worry.

this is goodbye for now. well, not really. i'll always be here with you. watching and listening, learning every single bit about you. haha, we're almost lovers! i can't wait to meet you in person!

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[reiding-writing]

hiyaa, cold reader series is so so amazing i just read it all in one sitting again but i was wondering if you could do one where she's jealous of a woman who starts flirting with spencer on a case maybe? maybe she's pissed because it's "unprofessional" but really she's pissed because he's being flirted with

AS IT SEEMS — SPENCER REID!

a local detective seems to hang on spencer’s every word. the unprofessionalism of it all really frustrates you.

spencer x cold!reader | 3.3k | flangst | cold!reader masterlist.

main masterlist.

a/n — is this… progression?

The flashing red-and-blue lights of the local PD’s vehicles paint shifting patterns across the asphalt as the BAU team steps onto the scene.

The air is thick with the scent of damp pavement and something acrid—gunpowder, maybe, or the lingering remnants of a nearby dumpster fire.

Officers mill about with that particular brand of tension that comes from knowing the FBI has been called in, half-relieved, half-defensive.

You take it all in quickly, the details slotting into place in your mind like a well-practiced routine. The weight of your badge clipped to your belt, the holster pressing against your hip—everything is familiar, grounding. But then she appears.

Detective Elena Foster is sharp-jawed and self-assured, the kind of woman who wears authority like a second skin. Her strides are long, purposeful, the confidence in her posture making it abundantly clear that she knows exactly how competent she is.

And she’s looking at Spencer like he’s fascinating.

You stand slightly off to the side as introductions are exchanged, arms crossed over your chest, expression unreadable. You’re practiced at this—at keeping your face neutral, your tone cool, your presence sharp enough to command respect without ever needing to raise your voice.

It’s always been easy. But right now, as Foster’s hand lingers just a little too long in Spencer’s when she shakes it, something tightens in your chest.

“Dr. Reid,” she says, eyes flicking over him with open appreciation. “I read your paper on statistical anomalies in serial offender data last year—brilliant work,”

Spencer, to his credit, looks momentarily startled. “Oh—thank you,” he says, blinking. “That was actually an extension of some previous research on—”

“That’s impressive,” she interrupts, flashing him a smile. “I’d love to pick your brain about it later, if you’ve got time,”

You watch as her fingers graze his forearm in a way that is entirely unnecessary.

He doesn’t seem to notice, too preoccupied with processing the compliment, his mind already spinning with whatever information he had been about to share. You, on the other hand, notice everything. The deliberate lean-in, the way her voice dips just slightly when she speaks to him, the way her eyes linger.

It’s unprofessional.

That’s what irritates you. Not the fact that her attention is singularly fixed on him, or that he’s being flirted with in the middle of a crime scene. Certainly not that she’s touching him when she doesn’t need to be.

It’s the principle of the matter. This is an active investigation, and Foster should be focused on the case, not Spencer’s academic credentials and whatever else has caught her interest.

Your jaw tightens as you glance toward Hotch, who doesn’t seem to care about the interaction as long as it doesn’t interfere with the briefing. Morgan, beside you, exhales a quiet chuckle under his breath, like he’s picked up on something amusing. You ignore it.

“I assume we have a body to look at?” you say, voice even.

Foster blinks at you, as if only just remembering your presence. You don’t react, don’t shift under her assessing gaze, don’t give her anything to work with. Eventually, she nods.

“Of course,” she says smoothly. “Right this way,”

She turns, and Spencer follows, already mid-sentence about some statistical deviation he had noticed in the case file. And you?

You stay exactly where you are for half a second longer than necessary, exhaling slowly through your nose before following after them.

—

You follow the team through the cordoned-off area, past uniformed officers and the murmuring press lingering at the edges, searching for scraps of information. The crime scene is up ahead—an abandoned warehouse, dimly lit and rank with the scent of stagnant water and decay. It should have your full attention.

But instead, you feel your focus splintering.

Just behind you, Spencer is still speaking, his voice carrying that familiar, eager cadence he gets when discussing something intellectually stimulating. “It’s interesting—well, not interesting in the traditional sense, given the context, but rather statistically significant—that the unsub’s victim selection aligns with a pattern previously seen in—”

“Oh, I love that you talk like that,” Foster’s voice is warm, teasing, admiring. “Most people dumb things down, but you don’t. That’s rare,”

You stiffen.

It’s unprofessional.

That’s what you tell yourself as you watch the way she tilts her head slightly when he speaks, as if absorbing every syllable. As if he’s the most fascinating thing in the room. She leans in a fraction closer—just enough to make it noticeable, just enough to make your stomach twist.

It’s unprofessional, you think again, but the words don’t sit quite right in your mind anymore.

Because the truth is, you shouldn’t care. You shouldn’t be noticing the way Foster looks at him. You shouldn’t be hyper-aware of the way her fingers brush the edge of his sleeve again, so light it could almost be accidental. You shouldn’t be waiting for him to pull back, to shake off the attention like he does when social interaction becomes too much.

Except he doesn’t. He just lets it happen.

And that irritates you.

So you do what you always do when something threatens to knock you off balance—you shut it down.

“Reid.”

Your voice cuts through the air, sharper than you intended. The team stops, turning toward you. Even Foster straightens slightly, blinking at the sudden shift in tone. Spencer glances over, his expression a mixture of mild confusion and concern.

You exhale, tightening your grip on the case file in your hands. “We’re here to solve a murder,” you say, your voice even but firm. “Not to make friends.”

Foster’s eyebrows lift slightly, but she doesn’t comment. Morgan, who had been watching the interaction unfold with barely concealed amusement, makes a low sound in his throat—something close to a chuckle. You ignore it.

“I wasn’t aware discussing case patterns was off-limits,” Spencer says, tilting his head. His tone is neutral, but there’s a hint of something else there.

You meet his gaze, keeping your own unreadable. “It’s not,” you say. “Just keep it relevant.”

It’s not a lie. You are focused on the case. You do want to keep things professional. That’s all this is. That’s the only reason your patience is stretched thin.

Except.

Except you can still feel the ghost of Foster’s laugh curling around Spencer’s words. Except your shoulders haven’t relaxed since the moment she touched him. Except your own thoughts are turning against you, pressing in like a vice, asking the question you really don’t want to answer—

If you’re so unaffected, why do you have to convince yourself of it?

—

The investigation continues with the same steady pace, but your attention keeps wandering.

Every time you glance toward Spencer and Foster, you find her leaning in a little too close, her voice a little too sweet as she asks him to clarify some trivial detail. She’s careful—always careful—never quite crossing a line, but the way she speaks to him, the way she looks at him, it grates at you.

The word “unprofessional” loops endlessly in your mind, but each time you tell yourself that, something inside you pushes back.

You’re not jealous. You just want her to focus. This is a case, for God’s sake.

But the more she smiles at him, the more he just stands there, absorbed in the conversation, oblivious to the subtle dance she’s performing, the more that uncomfortable twist in your stomach tightens. Every laugh, every overly familiar gesture, stirs something inside you that you can’t quite name.

You can feel your teeth grinding as they talk, your gaze hardening on the two of them. You’re trying to focus on the case, you’re trying to ignore the nagging irritation building in your chest, but the more they interact, the more annoyed you become.

She’s practically flirting, and Spencer isn’t doing anything about it. Or, if he is noticing, he’s pretending it doesn’t bother him.

But it bothers you. Why does it bother you?

Your fingers tighten around the edge of the evidence bag in your hand, and before you know it, you’re standing too close to them, watching as Foster tries to steer Spencer away from the group to discuss something you know is irrelevant to the case.

It’s not urgent. You know it’s not urgent. But when you hear the soft cadence of her voice inviting Spencer to join her for a “quick chat” away from the others, the words explode out of you.

“Reid.” you say sharply, the sound of his name a snap. The words feel harsh even to your own ears.

Spencer’s head jerks around, blinking at you in surprise. His lips part, but you cut him off again, your voice colder than you intended. “Come on, we’re leaving.”

Foster stops mid-sentence, blinking in confusion at the sudden interruption. Her eyes flick to Spencer, and then back to you. The tension in the air thickens, but you don’t care.

You don’t care.

Except you do. And that makes it worse.

Spencer’s gaze softens as he turns back to you, the furrow in his brow deepening, something akin to concern flashing across his face. It only makes you more frustrated.

“I’m not finished yet,” Spencer protests quietly, but there’s a careful note in his voice, the kind that suggests he’s trying to be diplomatic, to avoid upsetting you.

You blink, realising you’ve taken another step too far. Your heart skips a beat at the softness in his voice, and for just a moment, you feel guilty. He’s just trying to help, trying to be professional. And yet, the only thing you can focus on is her.

You don’t let the guilt linger long. “Then stop getting distracted.” you snap, then force yourself to look away, eyes darting back to the scene as if it somehow holds your attention now. You’re already backing off, leaving the words hanging in the air.

Spencer stares at you for a beat longer than necessary, confusion and concern still flickering in his eyes, but he doesn’t press it. He doesn’t argue, doesn’t question you further. Instead, he shifts back toward the group, muttering something to Morgan about a pattern in the evidence, and you hear the subtle shift in his voice—he’s letting it go.

But you don’t feel relieved.

The knot in your chest tightens again. Why did you say that? Why did you let her get to you?

You tell yourself it’s about professionalism. It’s about the case. You don’t have time for distractions, not when the clock is ticking. And you definitely don’t have time to unravel this feeling that’s spreading through you like an infection.

Spencer doesn’t argue. He doesn’t snap back at you, doesn’t give you the defensive posture that you might expect from anyone else. Instead, he does something that immediately pulls the rug out from under you.

He looks at you.

Really looks at you.

For a moment, the world around you blurs, the noise of the crime scene and the murmurs of the team fading into the background. It’s just Spencer’s eyes, filled with something you can’t quite place—concern, maybe, or confusion, maybe a little of both. But it’s soft. Too soft.

Your pulse spikes, and for a split second, it feels like the floor is tipping beneath you. It’s so disarming, the quiet concern in his gaze, and it makes the frustration building inside you flare even higher.

“Are you okay?”

The question is simple, unassuming, and it cracks something inside you. It’s not a challenge, not a reprimand—it’s genuine, and that’s what makes it harder to brush off.

No. You’re not okay.

You’re furious, but you can’t explain why. You’re hurt, but you can’t pinpoint the cause. You’re jealous, and the idea of admitting that to yourself is enough to send your thoughts spiraling. And all the while, Spencer’s standing there, oblivious to the storm building inside you, just waiting for your response.

You can’t look at him anymore.

“I’m fine,” you mutter quickly, not meeting his eyes. You swallow, forcing your chest to loosen, fighting the sudden weight that presses down on your shoulders.

Your words come out stiff, rehearsed, and even to your own ears, they sound like a lie. But you say them anyway. Because it’s easier than admitting the truth.

You don’t wait for him to say anything else. You turn abruptly, your boots echoing on the concrete floor as you walk away, away from Spencer and away from the nagging feeling that he might see through you if you stay.

But you’re not running. You’re not hiding. You’re just… focused.

At least, that’s what you tell yourself.

As you round the corner, your mind keeps racing, fighting to keep everything in order. You tell yourself you don’t care about the detective’s attention.

You tell yourself it’s unprofessional, it’s inappropriate. And you tell yourself that you’ve seen it all before, that Spencer’s just being Spencer—oblivious to the subtle ways people gravitate toward him.

But none of that feels convincing anymore.

By the time you’ve reached the far side of the warehouse, your hands are trembling slightly. You push them into your pockets, trying to centre yourself. You feel the familiar coldness wrapping around you again, your professional mask sliding back into place like armour. It’s easier this way.

A sharp breath escapes your lips as you lean against the wall, your head pressed back, eyes closed for a moment. Focus.

You force yourself to take another breath. You’re here for the case. That’s all.

But as the minutes pass, the tight knot in your chest refuses to loosen, and all you can think about is the way Spencer’s face looked when he asked you that question. Are you okay?

And, just for a fleeting second, you wonder if he knows more than you think.

—

The rest of the case proceeds, but something has shifted.

There’s an undeniable tension now—both around you and within you. As you walk through the newest crime scene, examining evidence and speaking with witnesses, Spencer doesn’t give you the space you’d expected.

He stays close, hovering just behind you, always near enough that you can feel the warmth of his presence even when you’re too busy to glance at him.

He’s speaking to you more than usual, asking for your input first, even in situations where it’s clear he already has the answers. It’s as if he’s checking in with you constantly, gauging your reaction before making any decisions of his own.

The subtle shift doesn’t go unnoticed by anyone. Foster, who had been so eager to claim his attention earlier, is starting to back off, visibly frustrated by his sudden disinterest in her suggestions. She tries a few more times to pull him away for a “quick chat,” but Spencer doesn’t respond to her advances the way he did before.

Instead, he looks to you.

“Hey, I think we might need a second look at the victim’s phone records,” he says, voice casual but with an edge of expectation, like he already knows you’ll agree. “What do you think?”

You pause, the request startling you slightly. Spencer doesn’t usually ask for your opinion on the more technical aspects of a case, but you don’t have time to process it. The words come automatically.

“Yeah, definitely. It might give us a window into the unsub’s next move.”

Spencer nods in approval, his face softening slightly as he absorbs your response. But there’s something else there, something unspoken—a quiet acknowledgment.

He doesn’t say anything, just continues to stay close as the investigation progresses, as if he’s subtly keeping his distance from Foster without even addressing it.

You’re still frustrated—at him, at the detective, at yourself—but there’s a tiny, almost imperceptible shift in your chest. That small part of you that feels like you’ve been seen. That he noticed.

Every time Foster attempts to direct him away from the group, Spencer brushes her off with a polite but clear, “I’ll be right with you,” his eyes flicking to you before he moves to stand closer. You don’t say anything. You’re not sure you even want to acknowledge it. But it’s there—an undercurrent you can’t ignore.

Your mind still races with frustration. You can’t shake the gnawing feeling that something’s off, and you can’t decide if it’s the case, the detective, or yourself. But every time Spencer looks to you for direction, every time he positions himself just a little too close, your frustration starts to dull, replaced by something else.

He’s noticing you. He’s listening.

When the team breaks for a quick huddle to discuss their next steps, Spencer stands beside you. Not next to Morgan or Hotch, not pulling away to talk to Foster. He’s deliberately close, his shoulder just grazing yours as he flips through his notes.

“You alright?” he asks again, in that soft, concerned tone that makes you almost uncomfortable. It’s like he’s waiting for you to admit something, like he already knows there’s something you’re not saying.

You want to brush him off, to tell him to stop worrying about you, but the question catches you off guard. For a brief moment, the irritation—toward him, toward Foster, toward everything—subsides, and you're left with something unspoken hanging between you two.

"I’m fine," you mutter again, a little more convincingly this time, even though it’s not true. But you can’t find the words to explain it. Not when you’re still trying to convince yourself that none of this should matter.

Spencer doesn’t push. He just nods, the faintest flicker of a smile tugging at his lips before he pulls away to engage with the team, but he keeps an eye on you, always just a little more attentive than usual.

You try to shake off the feeling that this—whatever this is—matters, but it’s hard to deny. The connection between you two is there, unspoken, and for some unknown reason you’re feeling a lot more vulnerable than usual.

And that, more than anything, is what frustrates you the most.

[thetadispatcher]

Vincent looked up at him and gave him a small smile, showing he appreciated the gesture. He knew it probably didn't mean that much to other people, but to him it meant a lot.

He liked knowing he had other people outside of those who called him family that cared, and didn't mind showing it to help him understand situations or just feel better about them.

The AP700 rested his head back against the other android, deciding he'd completely ignore Dan and Rook to focus on what Bishop was doing.

Nines gave him a calculating look, he had experience with people who would use anything to try to upset him. His human partner did it almost constantly to him, so he could easily recognize when someone else was attempting to do the same.

The only thing he needed any time to figure out was why, it seemed like everyone always had a different reason for why they were trying to get a reaction out of him. Gavin's was just because he liked to be an annoyance, and the fact he couldn't get Nines to react upset him.

Not that he cared, as he enjoyed watching the detective flush with anger whenever Nines didn't give him the reaction he was looking for. Not that he would show the human that he found his small shows of anger endearing.

"I am not that rebellious, no more then Connor is." He wouldn't call Sixty rebellious as the RK800 seemed to be down to do just about anything, he was more of an accidental troublemaker.

"And it's not like the military could do anything about it now if they did find out." Androids had rights now, and they couldn't do anything about the military androids Cyberlife failed to destroy as they were considered people. Also it would likely cause a lot of issues that wouldn't be worth the time and money to deal with.

John didn't see them doing anything about it ever, the androids didn't know anything he would consider damaging if it were to get out. And he never saw service, so he never learned any truly damaging information that the military would be concerned about.

"He might be, considering the fact he was already deviant when he was deactivated as we didn't have to convert him." Dan wasn't sure what to make of that possibility, but Kelvin was the oldest recorded deviant they knew of so far.

He just wasn't about to share that information as he felt the last thing androids needed was to know their god might be real, some might be a little disappointed to find out what he was like.

"I never said he was dumb, he can do some very complicated tasks quite well. Sure he does have his moments where he does something that one would call dumb, but he can hardly be held accountable for it considering his condition." Kelvin was surprisingly good at things one wouldn't expect someone in his condition to excel at, even if he did have times where he acted more childlike then a normal android.

"We are trying to teach him sign language and how to write, but it's a slow process as he sometimes will need to be retaught things he already learned. But if you think she can talk to him, you're welcome to try. It would be nice to better understand Kelvin just in case there is some mental trauma we don't know about. I would hate to learn about it by accidentally upsetting him and still not fully understand the reaction, it would make helping him calm down hard." Even a little more information would be useful, as it might give them a hint on where to look for more.

"Yes, that is correct. He was a gift to the studio that they really didn't care enough to keep, they deposed of him the first chance they got." Brent didn't seem bothered by the studio's blatant disregard for him, in fact he seemed to have expected the treatment and felt nothing about. The JB300 was one of the androids that showed no mental affects from being thrown away, and he even seemed thankful it happened.

"We have a few other ones, ones that you would recognize as a lot of people from your generation are the ones who were ordering these custom units." He could see why someone would want an android of their favorite characters, but he could also understand why they'd be thrown away. They only lasted as long as their novelty or until they needed an expensive repair thanks to being custom.

"Only one other one is present on the property currently, if you'd like I can introduce you to him." Dan knew he would be less bothered by being recognized as a fictional character, Brent just seemed to hate it as he wanted to be his own person and not Data. But the JB300 was okay with it if the person respected the fact he had picked a new name and didn't constantly remind him of his appearance.

The android looked over once again, waiting for Rook to snap back at him. When it was clear she intended to leave him alone he glanced back to Vincent. If his communication skills were poor, he felt he was about to set a new low, but still reached to give his friend a gentle pat in reassurance. Everything was fine, they were just having a feisty mutant over for a bit.

Bishop smirked. That gave him something to work with.

"Yes, that is expected behavior from the rebellious youngest brother."

Even the most collected deviant had to deal with their own emotions and while he couldn't say for sure how prominent Nines' ego was, Bishop would still poke at him until he got a reaction.

It was entertaining enough to him, in any case. He had no reason to stop.

"That's typical of private contractors." he mused, "So you were saved entirely by greed alone. I suppose there is some irony in that."

Much like the fact that androids were simply being tossed in a landfill instead of being recycled. It seemed Cyberlife's entire existence was simply tainted by incompetence.

Rook watched the way Dan's skin regenerated, glad to see no damage was done. The last thing she wanted was to be accused of having hurt the most important guy in the house, especially when she had done nothing but ask questions.

"Who knows, maybe he's patient zero." She shrugged, "Maybe he's like Sixty and likes the way he is. It's never good to assume somebody who's very energetic and content with what they have is dumb. I have a friend who is just as bouncy as Kelvin and she's smarter and wiser than most people."

It didn't look like Kelvin was causing real trouble on purpose. He just moved quietly and that made it easy to forget he was even there doing his own thing.

"So that's why you've got Commander Data running about. Maybe you could ask Willow to talk to Kelvin. He can't talk to you, but she can probably translate for him."

[ot8xbangchansgirlsblog]

𝕎𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕕𝕠 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕞𝕖𝕒𝕟?

part one

Warning: Angst, cursing, Tired reader, really clingy Felix.

Summary: Y/n's exhausted and slowly breaking down.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Today was one of those mentally off days. Y/n’s body felt like it was on autopilot, moving without her full control. Every step she took seemed harder than the last, her mind foggy and clouded by exhaustion. Her stomach churned from the overdose of caffeine that had only made her feel worse, mixing with the emptiness of not eating anything all day. Her skin had lost its usual warmth, now pale and clammy, drenched in sweat as the lack of sleep began to hit its peak. It was a feeling she knew all too well, but one that still managed to knock her out every time.

She barely heard her manager’s voice through the haze, his words distant as he waved his hand in front of her face. “Y/n, are you listening?”

She flinched, her heart racing as the sound of his voice jerked her from the haze. Her eyes focused on him, trying to piece everything together. “Uh… what?” she mumbled, blinking in confusion, her brain struggling to catch up.

Her manager sighed but gave her a soft, understanding smile, though there was a hint of impatience there. “Oh right… I finished filing the documents you asked me to—”

“Great!” he interrupted, raising an eyebrow, his tone lighter now as he leaned forward. “Can you just go over them again and make sure there aren’t any mistakes?”

Y/n mentally groaned, the thought of reviewing pages of fine print when her head felt like it was splitting open. But she knew the importance. She couldn't afford to mess anything up.

He really was a sweet man—kind, professional, and understanding. It wasn’t his fault that they were all running on fumes. But the reality was, some idiot had royally messed up one of the key projects they were set to present. It had thrown everything off course, and now everyone was scrambling, working endless hours to catch up with the other departments that had their shit together.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll get started right now,” she said softly, the words almost coming out as a whisper. She blinked a few times, gathering the willpower to lift herself from her chair. “May I be excused?”

Her manager gave her a soft smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Of course, dear. Thank you so much for your hard work.” He hesitated for a moment, his gaze softening as he looked at her. “I really do appreciate it, more than you know.”

Y/n nodded, trying to hide the fatigue creeping into her bones. Before she could leave, he stopped her, holding out his wallet and pulling out his company card. “Here, take this,” he said gently. “Get yourself some dinner... well, technically breakfast.” He glanced at his watch, a guilty laugh escaping him when he realized it was already 3 AM. “You really don’t have to, but I can’t stand seeing you like this.”

She took the card hesitantly, his concern evident in his eyes. “You really don’t have to, sir. But… thank you.” Her lips curved into a tired but genuine smile, her mood shifting slightly, softened by his kindness.

He gave her a reassuring smile, watching as she stood, her shoulders heavy with the weight of the night’s work. "You deserve it, Y/n. Get some rest when you can, okay?" She nodded, grateful, and walked out of the office, the card tucked into her pocket.

It was around 4:30 AM when Y/n's phone vibrated softly on the desk. She glanced at the screen, seeing Chan’s name light up. His call was a relief in the quiet, late hours of her work shift.

“Baby?” His voice sounded husky, still laced with the grogginess of just waking up. His tone carried a trace of concern.

“Hey, Channie,” Y/n said sweetly, though her voice wavered from exhaustion. Her eyelids fluttered in an attempt to stay open as she balanced the phone between her shoulder and ear, all while continuing to work.

“Hey, where are you? It’s 4 AM…” Chan's words came out in a small panic. Y/n could tell he was still trying to shake off sleep, his voice deepening with worry.

“I’m sorry, babe, I’m still at work,” Y/n sighed, turning a page in her file while typing something up. She clicked a few buttons on her laptop before glancing out the window. The city streets were silent, the world wrapped in a peaceful stillness that seemed a world apart from her busy desk. “Mr. Ji asked me to finish something quickly... I'll be home in a bit, I promise.”

Chan let out a frustrated groan, but his voice softened. “Still at work? Baby, it’s 4 AM. Come home already.” There was a slight panic in his tone now. He shifted under the covers, careful not to wake up Han, who had been nestled against him the entire night. The warmth of his touch was still fresh on his skin, but his concern for her outweighed any desire to stay in bed.

“Yeah... I know, I’m sorry. But Mr. Ji is being really worried about this project,” she explained, the guilt in her chest growing heavier with every word. She didn’t want to add more to his plate. “I’ll be done soon. I’ll be home before you know it.”

There was a pause, followed by Chan’s soft, frustrated sigh. “I can come pick you up right now…” His voice was filled with worry. “You don’t have to be out so late by yourself.”

“No, babe—” Y/n interrupted gently, “it’s way too late, and you have practice in an hour and a half. Get some rest, okay? I’ll be home soon.” She spoke with a calmness she didn’t entirely feel, trying her best to soothe him.

Chan’s frown deepened, even though she couldn’t see it. “Who’s going to drop you off? You shouldn’t be out at this hour alone. It’s not safe…”

“I’ll ask Yi-so Unnie to drop me off,” Y/n reassured him, trying to sound convincing. “She’ll take me home. Don’t worry, please? Just go back to sleep.”

There was a long silence, and Y/n could almost hear his internal battle. Finally, with a resigned sigh, Chan let out a quiet, “Okay... just call me if you need anything, alright?”

“I promise,” Y/n said softly, a smile tugging at her lips despite the weight of the moment. She felt the stress melting a little with each reassuring word. “How are my boys?”

“They’re good, all asleep,” Chan replied, his voice lighter now. He’d finally crawled back into bed, pulling Han back into his arms, the warmth and comfort of his body providing a sense of peace. He closed his eyes, feeling the tension in his shoulders slowly ease.

"Felix is mad at you," Chan said, chuckling lightly, his tone teasing yet knowing. Y/n furrowed her brow. Chan knew all too well how dramatic Felix had been these past few days, sulking about how little time Y/n had been able to spend with him due to her hectic schedule.

Y/n sighed, leaning back in her chair, and pinching the bridge of her nose. "I know, I know," she muttered, clearly exhausted herself. "Is he sleeping with you?" she asked, her voice carrying a hint of concern, though there was a small smirk tugging at the corners of her lips. Felix always slept with her every night, curling up beside her for comfort and companionship. Her long nights at the office had clearly been taking a toll on him, and that made her feel a pang of guilt.

Chan chuckled softly, shaking his head. "No, he's with Changbin," he replied, his voice still laced with a tired yawn. He stretched his arms overhead, the exhaustion evident in the way his shoulders slumped.

Y/n’s frown deepened slightly, the guilt gnawing at her as she glanced over at the clock on the wall. "I really need to wrap this up," she murmured more to herself than to Chan. It was late, and she knew Felix would be waiting for her, feeling abandoned.

"He'll survive," he said, teasing again, though there was a comforting warmth in his voice. "But maybe just send him a text before you come home, so he knows you haven’t forgotten him completely."

Y/n gave him a small, grateful smile. "I will," she promised softly, though her mind was already on the long to-do list she still had to get through. The work would never stop, but neither could her relationship with Felix—she just hoped he understood.

“I’m glad to hear that. See you soon, my love,” Y/n replied, her heart aching as she imagined him lying next to Han.

“Did you eat something?” His voice was soft, his eyes growing heavy with sleep again.

“Yeah, baby,” Y/n responded, a tiny lie slipping past her lips. “Get some rest. You sound exhausted. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Chan murmured, his voice growing quieter. He drifted back into sleep, the call fading into silence.

Y/n smiled as she quickly hung up, her gaze drifting back to the screen. But the guilt still gnawed at her—she was only halfway through her work, and the night was far from over.

It was now 5:20 AM, and Y/n was almost done with her work. The office was quiet, save for the soft hum of her computer. She was confident she’d be wrapped up by 5:45. Letting out a loud yawn, she stretched her arms overhead before grabbing her coffee cup. The bitter taste jolted her awake, though only slightly.

"Hey, neighbor," came a familiar voice. Hae, one of her co-workers, knocked lightly on the office door before pushing it open. "Hey, love," Y/n greeted with a tired smile, her eyes flickering up from the pile of papers she was working through. "Are you done with work?"

"Almost," Hae replied, swinging herself into the office chair with a casual stretch. "Are you?"

"Yeah," Y/n groaned, rubbing her face and flipping a page in her book. "I’m so tired. I can’t wait to get out of here."

"Same here," Hae agreed with a dramatic sigh, flopping back in her chair. "So, once we’re done, wanna grab breakfast? We don’t have to be back until 8 anyway." She rolled her eyes at the thought of getting only a few hours of sleep.

Y/n laughed softly. "Yeah, sure. Mr. Ji gave me the company card, so we can go get something to eat."

"Great!" Hae beamed, standing up from the chair with a bounce in her step. "See you in a bit." She waved and stepped out of the room, leaving Y/n chuckling at how adorable she was.

The moment Hae was out of sight, Y/n’s focus returned to the computer screen in front of her, but not for long. Her phone vibrated on the desk, and without looking, she picked it up. It was one of her boyfriends, likely Changbin.

"Hey, bunny," Changbin's voice came through the phone. She could hear the sound of him rattling around in the kitchen, probably making his usual protein shake. "Where are you? Did you head out for work already?"

"Hey, baby," Y/n sighed, leaning back in her chair. "I didn’t come home last night. I’m still at work."

“What? You didn’t come home?” Changbin’s voice was filled with concern. “Why? That’s so unhealthy.”

She winced, knowing what was coming. "Yeah, but remember how I told you we’re behind because of one of my coworkers?”

"Yeah, I remember..." His voice softened, but she could tell he was holding back his irritation.

“Binnie, be nice,” Y/n scolded, cutting him off before he could say something sharp. "We’re almost done, though. Just a bit longer."

He exhaled loudly. "But you’ve been coming home really late these past few days, going to work really early. You barely eat and you're practically running on coffee. We’ve barely seen you.” He pouted, even though Y/n couldn’t see it. She could hear the concern in his voice, though.

“I know. I know,” Y/n whispered, feeling her chest tighten. She was trying so hard to stay composed, but the weight of everything was getting to her. The constant pressure, the long hours—she was on the verge of breaking down. "I’m just...really tired."

There was a pause on the other end before Changbin let out a sigh. "I’m heading to the gym right now, but I’ll swing by and drop off your jacket. You need anything?"

Y/n shook her head, even though he couldn’t see it. "Don’t bother. I’m leaving the office now. You’ll probably find me home." She tried to sound nonchalant, but her voice was tight, like a rubber band stretched too thin.

“Are you sure?” Changbin asked, his voice laced with worry. "I can grab you something to eat, too, if you need it."

"No, it’s okay," Y/n quickly dismissed him, trying to push back the feelings welling up in her chest. "I’m leaving soon. Go work out. I’ll be home before you know it."

"Okay..." Changbin’s voice was defeated, but he didn’t push her any further. "I love you. Call me if you need anything, alright?"

"I will. I love you too." Y/n's words came out a little too quickly, but she needed him to hang up. Her head was starting to ache, and she couldn’t bear to talk much longer. She pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to fight back the tears that threatened to spill over. "Bye, my love."

She hung up, her fingers trembling slightly as she set the phone down. For a moment, she just sat there in silence, the office lights buzzing overhead. She closed her eyes for a beat, trying to steady her breathing, but the tension was too much. It was too much.

"Finally," Y/n huffed, letting the tension leave her shoulders as she stood in the empty office, basking in the quiet after a long day of work. She had managed to finish everything in time and turned in all the reports. She finally felt like she could breathe. "Hey, neighbor, you finished?" Hae's voice cut through the stillness as she leaned casually against the doorframe. She was already wearing her coat, a small bag slung over her shoulder, ready to head out.

"Yeah, just handed everything in," Y/n said with a relieved smile. "Lemme grab my stuff and we can go."

As she tossed a few stray papers into her bag and pulled on her coat, Hae lingered in the doorway, trying to make small talk. "It’s quite chill outside," she noted, shoving her hands into her pockets.

"Yeah," Y/n chuckled, the image of her boyfriend popping into her mind. "My boyfriend wanted to bring me another jacket just because it’s so cold."

Hae raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Aww, that’s sweet. How are they, by the way?"

"They're good," Y/n said with a soft laugh. "Probably really mad I didn’t come home. I kind of...forgot to charge my phone." She cursed under her breath as she fumbled with her dead phone. "Great timing, huh?"

"I've got a charger," Hae offered with a grin, pulling out a cord from her bag. "We can charge it at the cafe."

"Thanks," Y/n said, gratefully accepting the charger and slipping her phone back into her bag. She locked her office door and followed Hae out into the chilly evening air.

After they grabbed a quick breakfast at the cafe, they parted ways. Y/n didn’t realize until she was on her way home that she had completely forgotten to charge her phone after all. The day had already begun for most people, but for her, it was time to sleep.

When she arrived at the house, she could hear footsteps echoing through the halls, indicating that everyone was getting ready for their schedules. Y/n sighed softly, pushing her tired body to unlock the door. She stepped inside, shedding her shoes and coat, and called out, "I’m home!"

Her feet dragged on the floor as she made her way through the house, exhaustion pulling at every step. "Babe?" Leeknow's voice came from the kitchen, and he appeared in the doorway. Dressed in sweatpants, a hoodie, and a cap, he looked comfortable but clearly concerned as he rushed over to her.

"Why weren’t you answering our calls?" He asked, pulling her into a warm hug, his worry evident in his voice.

"My phone died, my love. I totally forgot to charge it," she explained softly, resting her head on his chest. "Are you good? Did you sleep well?" she asked, planting a soft kiss on his lips.

"Yeah, I did," he replied, brushing a hand gently through her hair. "But you, you're burning up," he frowned, his palm coming to rest on her forehead. "Are you sick?"

"No, just really tired," she yawned, fighting to stay awake as her body screamed for rest.

"Okay, go wash up and get into bed. I’ll make you some warm hot chocolate," he cooed, guiding her toward the stairs with gentle hands.

"I just had breakfast, baby. Just get ready for work. I promise I’m okay, I just need to recharge before going back in," she reassured him, giving him one more soft kiss on the lips. "Go on, I’ll be fine."

Leeknow looked at her with concern, rubbing her cheek with his thumb. "O-okay... but I’ll come check on you before I leave, yeah?"

Y/n nodded, offering him a tired smile, before slowly making her way up the stairs, feeling his eyes follow her every step. His worry gnawed at him as he watched her sluggish movements, but he didn’t say anything.

Upstairs, the house was busy with everyone getting ready for the day. Y/n managed to sneak past everyone and into her room, where she quickly washed up and changed into something more comfortable. She turned off the lights, allowing herself to collapse into her cozy bed. A sigh of relief left her lips as she curled up, closing her eyes and letting the weight of the day melt away. The sound of the house buzzing with activity was drowned out as she finally allowed herself to fall into a deep, well-deserved sleep.

20 minutes hadn’t even passed by when suddenly her door opened and closed. She was too tired to open her eyes to see how it was but she could tell by the persons cologne.

Her blanket shifted, the soft fabric sliding off as Felix’s body pressed against hers, seeking warmth. His small sniffles reached her ears as he nestled closer, his head resting against her chest. "Y/nnie?" he mumbled, his voice thick with something between sleepiness and sadness.

Y/N’s eyelids fluttered open slowly, the hazy room coming into focus. She blinked once, twice, before realizing Felix was right there, pouting, his soft features contorted with a mixture of discomfort and longing. He wrapped his arms around her waist, his hands cold against her skin as he nuzzled his head under her chin, snuggling into the crook of her neck.

"Hey, babyboy, what’s wrong?" she murmured softly, her voice thick with the grogginess of sleep. Without even thinking, her hand instinctively moved to stroke his arm, soothing him with gentle touches. She threaded her fingers through his tousled blonde hair, the faint scent of his shampoo mixing with the warmth of his body.

Felix let out a soft whimper, his voice muffled against her skin. "You didn’t cuddle with me last night..." His words were laced with an almost childlike sadness, his lower lip protruding in a small, endearing pout.

Y/N’s heart tugged, and she felt a wave of guilt rush over her. Felix always craved her attention, often joking about it, but tonight was different. He needed her, and she hadn't been there. "I’m sorry, Lix," she whispered, her fingers brushing through his hair again. "I had so much work to do. It was a long night…"

"I know, but still…" His voice faltered, and he tightened his hold around her waist, his body curling further into hers, as if trying to get as close as physically possible. "You’ve been working so much. You don’t even have time for me anymore."

The guilt in her chest tightened. Felix was right. He was always by her side, but recently, the overwhelming weight of her responsibilities had kept them apart. "Baby," she started, her voice low, "I'm really sorry. It wasn’t intentional."

Felix looked up at her with big, wide eyes, his brow furrowed in that familiar, pouty expression she knew too well. His voice wavered, vulnerable. "But… I don’t get it, Y/N. You’re always with Han and everyone else. When it’s my turn… I’m always the last one."

She felt her chest tighten at his words. This wasn’t how she had intended for him to feel, but exhaustion clouded her thoughts, making it hard to communicate. "Sunshine," she interrupted gently, her tone more fatigued than she intended. "Can we talk later? I’m just so tired right now."

Felix’s face shifted, a flash of hurt crossing his features. "Fine. If you don’t love me anymore, just say that. You’re always laying up with Han and the rest, and when it comes to me, you just ignore me…" His voice cracked as he pulled away from her, slipping out of her grip. His body shifted away as he sat up, the room feeling much colder without him against her.

"Felix, it’s not like that," Y/N protested, frustration rising as she tried to reach for him, her tiredness now turning into worry. "I promise, I do love you. I just—"

"Whatever," he muttered, his tone sharp now, tinged with bitterness. He stood up, pacing away from her bed. "You don’t get it, Y/N. You’ve been too busy for me. I’m not going to sit here and beg for your attention anymore."

"Please, Lix," Y/N pleaded softly, trying to push herself up from the bed, but her body felt like lead, heavy with exhaustion. "I’ve been up all night, but I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m sorry."

Felix turned to her, his back facing her as he stood by the door, frustration radiating off him. "I get it, okay? You’ve got a million things on your plate. But it’s fine. It’s whatever." His words dripped with resentment, his shoulders slumping as if the weight of the conversation had drained him.

Y/N’s heart sank as she watched him storm out of the room, the door shutting behind him with a soft thud. She sank back into her bed, her mind reeling with guilt and exhaustion.

She hadn't wanted things to get like this, but as she lay there, her eyelids fluttering shut again, she couldn’t help but wonder if the rift between them had gotten too wide to fix with just a few apologies.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

Don't forget to reblog and follow! <3

A/N: Thank you anon!

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[scissorcentral]

Abby with a reader who's just •_• bug eyed and silent lmao, very oblivious to everything, always in their own world, but very endearing and sweet to abs <3

Abby with a more introverted(?) reader-

warnings- (there aren't really i don't think)

-Abby literally thinks you are the most adorable human being ever. Whenever you space out during group discussions, she literally can't help but laugh to herself before slinging her arm around you and holding you against her until you come back to reality (because of course you're always directly next to her).

-If anyone tries to make little jokes or tease you about your speaking habits or anything about you, she will shut them up so fast you literally won't even have time to notice. It gets a point where nobody even thinks about trying because Abby will either clap back, aiming to destroy their ego, or give them the most insane death glare. Like the type of look that could kill, and it probably could if she tried hard enough.

-You can't help but mess with her fingers and drift off sometimes and she literally will have like hearts in her eyes as she watches you. You're completely silent just running your fingers all over her hands and she will just watch in awe with a soft blush on her cheeks. She's literally enamored by you and whatever you do.

-Whenever you are out on patrol together, she ALWAYS makes sure to keep an eye on you no matter what. She knows you can get a little off track, your mind sometimes wandering causing you to wander a bit to. After her dad's death she refuses to lose you so she makes sure to never let you out of her sight as long as she can help it.

-Sometimes you guys will sneak off and find a building with an accessible roof and you will just sit for hours. Sometimes you guys won't even speak, and other times Abby will talk for the entire time as you listen to every word she says. Sometimes its rant and other times it's some stupid store that sends you both into a fit of giggles. Her main goal is always getting some laughs out of you which she always does, rant or not. She lives for the sound of your laughter.

-Her dream is to be able to see the world through your eyes. How you are able to get through most of your days without talking or talking so little. How you can be so oblivious to things but also so insightful to other things. She is so obsessed with you and how you go about your life. She wishes she could know what it's like, but even though she really can't she does everything in her power to understand you.

-Before you guys got together, Abby had been literally in love with you, but you never noticed her advances. She would get so angry, like screaming into her pillow angry. It would make her so embarrassed how pathetic she'd get but she still continued to try. Eventually you caught on after she had to be so extremely blunt. Now the whole thing is something she just teases you about, but your obliviousness is something she has grown to completely love. It's so cute to her now(it wasn't cute when she was putting her reputation on the line with her extremely obvious advances(well obvious to everyone but you))

-If you ever get lost in your head she's always there to try and ease you out. It becomes a thing she is really good at. Holding you close to her, her thumbs rubbing softly over your skin, light kisses on your temple. It's sweet and something you become incredibly grateful for. You will always show your appreciation by leaving a new coin on her nightstand that you had secretly found on a patrol.

-Abby makes it her fucking mission to see you smile. Whatever she has to do she will do (which can be a little concerning). She thinks your smile is the cutest thing in the world and would literally die to see it once more.

-If anyone in the stadium says legit one negative word about you, she will lose it. Nobody is allowed to talk bad about you. Ever. She is so extremely protective of you. You're her everything. She knows you aren't classified as a "completely normal person" by everyone's else's standards but that's why she loves you so much. The way your eyes will glaze over slightly when you space out, the way you'll just stare at people when they send you a backhanded compliment, and the way she's the only person who gets to hear you speak and even then, it's usually quiet whispers. You've got her completely whipped. You got the Abby Anderson completely and utterly whipped.

notes- Hi. I am actually horrified to post this as I haven't written and posted on Tumblr in multiple years so it's weird to be back. This is such shit, but I hope you do enjoy. To me this writing feels like a fourth grader who just learned a few new vocab words but whatever. I'll probably go back and fix it and add more but I'm still having a crisis from just writing this so we will see. Hope you like it.

(also i didn't know how to word the title but i tried.)

[littelovelunette]

Sevika with reader who like talks back too much or maybe wears a dress she told you not to cause it’s too showy so she drags them home and bends her over her knee cane makes the reader count them 💕💕😩 (I let ovulation day me write this my bad)

I get you baby I get you I feel like I'm ovulating 24/7 haha that's why I'm writing so much smut, check out the pinned post and touch yourself mwah thank me later

Red Handprints

Content warning: Mild smut (?), spanking, brat tamer Sevika

Today morning when you finished shower and was picking out some clothes to wear, you started holding up all your cute little dainty dresses to see which one seemed better for the day. But just as you held up a mini dress, Sevika let out a quiet, "Nuh-uh."

She grabbed the hanger of the dress, taking it out of your hands and putting it back into the closet. "You wanna get harassed by goons or something?" She raised a brow, taking a deep inhale of the cigarette before she exhaled it through her nose. "Just looking out for ya'."

"Thanks, but I'm not a kid," you retorted with a fuckass grin and that made Sevika's jaw tighten, you could see the veins of her neck rise a little but she bit back her mean words, swallowing down her anger.

"Don't let me catch you wearing that. You might as well go outside naked," Sevika rolled her eyes mumbling as she walked out, probably for work.

She didn't appreciate you mouthing her off so she didn't bother even saying a simple goodbye.

You smirked a little, "Mission accomplished," you hummed to yourself and giggled before you walked back to the closet, taking the small dress out anyway.

You'd wear it, not just to show off your curves but to ruffle Sevika's feather. And you'd make sure you go into Last Drop so you don't show off too much or seem disloyal, just messing with her a bit.

The bar was a little crowded as you walked inside, you could see her playing poker with the other henchmen.

Her eyes immediately locked onto yours as she gave you a once over, her lips pursing in disappointment.

She got up, throwing some cash onto the table and walked upto you, grabbing your neck, "What do you think you're doing?" Sevika whisper-yelled at you, the scene rof tobacco and alcohol filling your nostrils.

"What?" You feigned innocence.

Sevika, not wanting to cause a scene, picked you up, wrapping you with her poncho, "You're basically in a bikini," she whispered again, as she led you out of the bar.

"Geez, okay, mother," you replied in a taunting tone which Sevika didn't take lightly.

"Apologise," she said, her voice had a final tone but you held your tongue this time before an idea sparked in your brain.

"Make me!" You said, knowing she'd fuck some sense into you.

Well, that's how you ended up over her lap, crying. Sevika smacked a big hand over your ass again.

"I'm starting over. You messed up your counting," Sevika said, pausing before smacking your ass again.

You howled in pain, burying your face in the sheets, red ass perched up by a pillow over her lap, "O-one..."

Sevika slapped your ass again, the smack echoing in your shared bedroom, "Two.."

Sevika continued spanking your ass, each slap harder than the other and she didn't seem like she'd stop anytime soon, not even when you were gasping for air, sobbing loudly.

She seemed to enjoy it, even taunting you through it. Sevika's hand came down in a harsh slap again, "T-t-... Twenty," you croaked and she positioned you on the bed, ass hovering in the air.

"Stay like that, reflect," She walked off to sit down at the edge of the bed as she watched your red ass pushed up, head in the pillows as you cried in pain quietly.

Seviak took out a cigarette, lighting it and taking a good inhale, "Think next time before you decide to be a brat."

[navybrat817]

Just.... Bucky getting on his knees and begging "honey, open your legs please" like he's a man that's been starving for months, him breathing and tasting through the panties because he's that impatient.

I love this so much, nonnie.

Sweet Like Honey

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky begs to have a taste when he gets home.

Word Count: Over 1.2k

Warnings: Oral sex (f. receiving), implied sex, possessive behavior, established relationship, slight feels, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: This feels like Feral Bucky. Hope you lovelies enjoy. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You sat on the couch fifteen minutes ago. You closed your eyes five minutes ago. It amazed you that you hadn't fallen asleep with how tired you were from your long day, but Bucky would be home shortly and you wanted to curl up with him before you dozed off. He’d find it sweet, and so would you.

You should've known he’d have other ideas.

“Hey, Bucky,” you mumbled when you heard his deliberate footsteps. When he didn't answer you cracked an eye open. “Bucky?” you asked, watching him toss his jacket away and flex his hands. He had a familiar look in his blue eyes. Not quite feral, but close.

Oh, he was hungry.

He pushed the coffee table out of the way with his foot and bent down to kiss your lips. Soft, but desperate, so it didn't surprise you when he dropped to his knees in front of you. “Honey, open your legs,” he demanded in a dark, deep voice once he pushed your dress up. One that made you grip the cushions when he rested his hands on your knees. “Please.”

“Well, hello to you, too.” You rolled your eyes, but your smile was affectionate. What had him so wound up? “At least you said please.”

“I did, now please open your legs,” he demanded again, but it wasn't as forceful. You heard a hint of desperation, the same kind you tasted on his lips when he kissed you. “I’m already on my knees.”

“You are,” you agreed and you loved how badly he wanted you. “But why should I open my legs for you? I’m pretty tired.”

His mouth fell open. You never passed up an opportunity for him to pleasure you, and you’d let him eat as much as his heart desired. But you wanted to hear him beg a little for it for no reason at all.

“Because I'm horny and hungry and your pussy is the only thing that’ll satisfy me,” he answered, looking at where your legs were still together. “C’mon. Pussy’s so good. I need it. I crave it. Soft as silk, sweet like honey.”

You moaned. They were good reasons. “Tempting, tempting, but you just ate my pussy yesterday,” you reminded him, which earned you an offended look from the love of your life.

“Yesterday. An entire day ago. Your pussy needs me,” he snarled, his fingers sliding to your thighs and digging in. “Or should I say my pussy?”

“Easy, tiger. We both know it’s yours,” you teased, burying a hand in his hair and making him groan when you tugged on the strands. His words could turn you into molten lava, and you were wet the second he dropped to his knees. “But opening my legs doesn't address the fact that I'm tired. You understand that.”

He smirked when your legs opened an inch. “I’m sorry you're tired, but making you feel good is the perfect way to get you to sleep. I’ll get you off on my tongue and fingers… Make you pass out when I get my cock in you.” He sounded wrecked as your thighs parted more, your core . “And I’ll carry you to bed and wrap you in a warm blanket.”

“And you’ll cuddle with me, too? If you’re demanding that I open up, I demand some cuddles,” you said. He’d cuddle with you even if you didn't demand it.

“Cuddle, snuggle, curl up with you, spoon you, can even keep me cock warm while I hold you,” he rattled off, smirking when you bit your lip. “Just let me eat, please.”

You hummed. It was tempting. And how many people could say a super soldier begged for just a taste of them? To fuck them? “Just how hungry are you and for what reason?”

Bucky licked his lips when you completely opened your legs and showed him your clothed cunt. “Fucking hungry and for no reason at all except your existence,” he growled.

You made a small noise when he dove in and inhaled, your face nearly burning from how hot it felt when he licked and tugged impatiently at the wet fabric with his teeth. “Bucky!”

“Told you. ‘m fucking hungry.” He licked the fabric again with a growl and nudged your clit with his nose. “God, you’re so wet for me. Need it on my tongue. Need it on my cock.”

“Fuck…” you whimpered. He wanted your pussy so badly he couldn't even wait for a proper taste. “Okay, you can eat.” He had begged enough in your eyes.

“Fucking finally.”

You scoffed. “Finally? You just-”

He ripped your underwear off and left you bare, drawing another breathless sound from you at the first touch of his mouth on your damp folds. He brought his hands to your hips and pulled you closer so he could open you up with his tongue, his broad shoulders keeping your legs apart. You nearly lost it when he plunged it deep inside and licked around your walls, his throaty moan making you shudder. Every lick and caress made you feel like you’d melt into the couch. The sensations were overwhelming, especially since your senses went from dull to heightened.

“Beautiful,” he rumbled.

“We both are,” you smiled. He made you feel beautiful, and he sure as fuck looked beautiful between your thighs.

“And I’m so…” His thumb on your clit had you pulling his hair. “Fucking…” You tightened around the finger that slipped inside your tight channel. “Hungry.”

There was no getting between Bucky and his meal. No stopping him once he had a taste, his fingers and mouth tender even as he devoured you. It almost didn't seem fair some days. All you had to do was flash your tits or spread your legs and the ex-assassin was lost to the world. Even after a long day you got to lay back while he pleasured you simply because he wanted you. You reaped all the benefits, came every time.

You’d make sure he came, too, before the night was over.

“You… really are hungry,” you moaned, your back arching when another finger. Bucky wasn't just an enthusiastic lover. He was attentive. He knew what made you tick and how to make you let go. “Fuck! There! Please!”

“Music to my ears, and you really do taste like fucking honey.” He gazed up at you with a smirk on his wet lips as his fingers curled. You tasted yourself on his lips before and it tasted nothing like honey, but who were you to argue when he enjoyed it so much? “Melt for me and I’ll carry you to bed on my cock.”

It didn't take you long to reach your peak of pleasure once his mouth was back on you, your thighs shaking and his name leaving your lips in a cry. He hummed and groaned as he tasted your release like it was the most delicious treat he ever had. You were aware that he called you a good girl as your vision blurred, and he also said he loved you as you rode out your orgasm. He may have even apologized for the “lack of foreplay”.

But as he carried you to bed with a kiss to your forehead and his cock buried inside you as promised, you knew he’d more than make that up to you.

The man needs you, okay? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[pshbites]

HONEY ! ━ ldh

pairing : bf!haechan x gf!reader genre : private but not secret, band au, pure fluff warnings : clingy!hyuck, LOTS of kissing, overuse of the petname honey, not proofread synopsis : being the bands photographer always had its perks, especially with a certain flirty singer wc : 1k a/n : istj hyuck come back to me pls the cats miss u

if u enjoyed pls like & reblog, feedback is also always appreciated!!

the fluorescent golden lights shined on stage as you watched the band lose themselves in the music. you felt the rhythm being played take over your body like some sort of drug, watching how each of them individually were as involved in the music as the rest of the crowd was. 

the venue was small, like all of their venues, and then crowd always remained the same. but you weren’t here for that, you were there for him. donghyucks honey sweet voice filled your ears, playing on the speakers of the venue. the melody of the song blended together with his voice like coffee and cream. his eyes are closed as he sings, fingers softly strumming the guitar to add more depth into the sound of the song. 

he fluttered his eyes open, his fluffy eyelashes looking so pretty as his eyes scanned the room. finally his eyes fell on you, smiling softly. he looked so pretty in his element, the moles on his face contrasting perfectly with his eye makeup. everything about donghyuck was just so perfect. it helped that he was such a gentleman too, always opening doors for you, giving you his jacket without hesitation. maybe it was the bare minimum but it made your heart flutter. 

he shut his eyes once more and his singing stopped to play the guitar as another member sang. you watched the way his fingers moved, smiling softly. pulling out your camera, you adjusted the lense to get hyuck perfectly in the frame, snapping a picture. you looked down at your camera, smiling. 

you raised the camera once more, beginning to take pictures of the rest of the members. you had been the band's photographer for a while now, following them on some of their gigs to get pictures for their social media. the job had its perks, free entry to some good sets, paid well, and the ability to talk to a certain flirty singer. 

the song had ended, all four of them smiling at one another as mark stepped up to the front of the stage, holding the mic in his hand. you knew now that the set was ending so you made your way out of the crowd, heading backstage. you knew this routine like the back of your hand, mark would do an ending speech, you head backstage to start editing the pictures on your laptop. 

as you opened the camera file on your laptop, you heard the crowd cheering. you already knew they were probably coming backstage and that was confirmed when you heard an all too familiar voice call out to you. “knew i saw you honey.” donghyuck hummed, smiling as he walked in, the rest of the members following him in. 

you weren’t sure how the nickname originated but all you knew is that donghyuck called you honey, with his sweet voice and you loved it. you smiled as he walked over to sit next to you on the couch, looking at your laptop screen. “have i ever told you’re so talented honey?” he looked to you and smiled, making you laugh softly, pushing his face away playfully. 

“let yn work hyuck, you’re so annoying” mark called out, retreating to their dressing room. renjun and jisung followed him in, talking about something you weren’t paying attention to. donghyuck smiled next to you, watching as you worked intently on editing the pictures. he scooted a little closer, his arm now wrapped around your waist. you glanced at him and rolled your eyes. 

“quit it hyuck” you mumbled, making him smile. “cmon, i haven’t seen you in forever, where have you been?” he groaned, resting his chin on your shoulder. he was so close to you that he could smell you, you always smelled so sweet. like a mix of honey and vanilla. “just busy” you sighed, trying to ignore his touch but you couldn't, the way his thumb drew small circles on your shirt made you feel shivers all over.

he smiled at your furrowed brows and softly pouted lips. he removed his hand from your waist and leaned back slightly to push the hair away from your face and neck, moving it to the other side. “hyuck what are you-“ your words were stuck in your throat as you felt his soft kisses peppering your neck. 

you could feel the smile he had and smiled softly, “quit that what if someone sees” you tried to push him away softly but he didn’t budge, instead continuing to leave sweet kisses on your neck. “don’t know, don’t care. everyone knows you’re my honey anyways” he mumbled, leaning back to look at you properly now. 

he moved some of your hair to the side again, “look at me” he muttered, his thumb and finger reaching to hold your chin, forcing you to look at him. he smiled at your cute rosy cheeks, feeling himself melting on the spot. “you’re so pretty, have i ever told you that?” making you smile, pushing him away at his chest. “you’re so corny” you say, shaking your head. 

donghyuck smiled and leaned in closer to you, fully latched onto you by your waist. “yeah but you like it, don’t you honey?” he whispered that last part close to your ear, making you giggle. as you opened your mouth to say something renjun walked out of the dressing room, looking at the two of you. he smiled softly and shook his head. “i was gonna let you two know that we’re leaving, i’m assuming hyuck is leaving with you?” he looked between the two of you. 

“yeah, i am” donghyuck said, a little too proudly, making renjun laugh once more. “get home safe you two” he said, waving to both of you as he walked out. “so they all do know” you looked to donghyuck who only smiled and nodded. “like i said, you’re my honey” he mumbled, kissing your cheek and then your face all over, making you giggle. 

taglist : @cupidhoons @leeechin @fatalhoon @ourhees @geutori @hyuckworld @lqfiles @haedgaf @ronniee-26 @fairqves @i03jae @sunghoonsgfreal @dinosaurtoothbrushwithninjasauce @page0brooklyn @zkdlllin @17ericas (bold cannot be tagged)

dream taglist

© all rights to pshbites 2025. please do not copy, translate or repost my works

[rafesslxt]

beach night

DAY 1 valentines special <3

SUMMARY: it‘s your first valentines day together and rafe wants to do something special for you, even asking his sister for help.

WARNINGS: make-out session at the beach, rafe being the cutest ever, romantic date, emotional gift, rafe crying, mention of rafe's passed away mom

WORD COUNT: 2,4k

NOTE: english isn‘t my first language, thank you all for reading! Every like, comment or reblog is appreciated! <3

"What are you doing?“ Sarah‘s voice echoed through the steamy kitchen as she appeared in the doorway, which was filled with smoke and cursings coming from Rafe‘s lips as he tried to scratch the last remnants of noodles from the pot that was now pitch black.

"I‘m cooking." his voice was tight, his jaw tensed as he thossed the ruined pan into the kitchen sink. "fuckn‘ shit" he mumbled under his breath, running a hand over his buzz cut and then across his face.

"Yeah.. and why are you trying to cook?“ Rafe sighed, now looking at his sister's amused face. "It's valentines day." he answered, as If that would explain anything.

He rolled his eyes and groaned. "I wanted to surprise her with a.. romantic dinner." A smile crept onto Sarah’s face at her brother’s words. 

"Oh I should‘ve known this is about y/n. Why else would you be in the kitchen the first time after 20 years. So, what did you have in mind ?"

Rafe glanced back at his culinary disaster.  "I wanted to surprise her with dinner tonight – i know i can‘t cook, so I thought I’d practice beforehand to avoid ruining it.”

"Why don‘t you take her to a nice restaurant? You know she appreciates everything, no matter what you do." Sarah should know, she‘s your best friend. But Rafe already knew that you would be happy even if you both just sat on the couch watching movies all night long.

"I know that. But she deserves more. She deserves everything. And I don‘t want to do something with money, that‘s not impressing her." He sank into a chair, running both hands over his head, his elbows resting on the desk in front of him. “Can you help me?” 

"What?", Sarah looked at her brother in surprise. "You heard me. You‘re her best friend, you have to have an idea come on." "Well -", she began, walking over to sit across from him. 

"I mean let‘s brainstorm. What does y/n like? What is she talking about the whole time when you two are together?"

He leaned back, letting memories of their conversations, dates, and time spent together flood his mind "I mean she loves her family, her dog, her friends.. she likes clothes and makeup.."

His sister rolled her eyes. "Not like that. That‘s what every girl likes. I meant stuff like.. her passions."

Rafe nods. "She loves animals, always talking 'bout them. Loves trying new food, experimenting with it while cooking. Uh – she also loves the beach, the ocean in general."

Sarah smiled at him, causing his eyebrows to furrow in confusion. "What?“ "I didn‘t know you could be such a listener."

"Come on, Sarah, I don't have time for this." his voice tighter than before. "Alright alright.. what about a date at the beach?", she suggested.

Rafe's eyes widened, "Yes yes yes! She once showed me some tiktok's of a picnic at the beach 'n stuff. Bet she would love that." Rafe stood up from his chair and began pacing around the kitchen, excitement coursing through him at the thought of her face when she saw a full picnic spread out on the beach. 

"But how do I get the food to be warm when we get there ? I would have to pick her up." His gaze landed on his sister again. "Can you pick her up?"

"Yeah gonna do. John B and I aren't meeting until 10 pm." "Okay great. Uhm - okay I need to go and get everything. Just text her you wanna do something with her since John B doesn't have time for you -" "Uh - he does have time; he's just-" "Yeah yeah, broke ass boyfriend who's late so he has to push the date to 10pm to get everything sorted."

-

He had literally thought of everything. He even enlisted Topper’s help, since that idiot hadn’t managed to secure a date aside from a little hookup that never happened because she dumped him.

Topper assisted him in setting up four fire torches adorned with fairy lights, and he also brought over the food while Rafe continued arranging the rest. He arrived exactly five minutes before you were supposed to show up with Sarah.

“Thanks, man.” He gave his friend a light slap on the shoulder, surveying the setup.

"No problem man, I like y/n. Even though she's a pogue." Topper chuckled before he turned towards Rafe. "Okay bro, gonna leave before the princess arrives. Call me up If you need anything else alright?" He nods and starts walking backwards while Rafe gave him thumbs up and a little smile.

Topper hopped into his car and drove off the beach, taking a different route to avoid crossing paths with you and Sarah. 

Meanwhile you and Sarah laughed in her car to a joke she just told you. "I can't believe he said that!" "It's JJ, what do we expect I guess?", you giggled, glancing outside the window for a short moment. "Yeah, touche."

You noticed Sarah taking a turn toward the beach instead of continuing down the road to her place. “Where are we going?” you asked, curious. "I don't know, felt like taking a quick stop at the beach. Romantic at Valentinesday.", she joked, wiggling her eyebrows.

A small laugh left your lips at her corniness. "Stop, you're almost acting like JJ when he wants Rafe to get mad at him for flirting with me." "I know, saw it last time and I had to listen to Rafe ranting the whole day at home how he's gonna punch JJ in the face so he never can talk to you ever again without a tongue."

You both hopped out of her car when she parked near the ocean. Just a little bit of sand separating you from the waves.

You quietly walked down towards the shore, Sarah taking a turn around a little cliff. That's when you saw it. Him.

"Have fun.", Sarah whispered into your eyes before disappearing behind you.

With your heart racing, you walked down theshore toward your boyfriend, a smile stretching across your face. “Rafe... what did you do?” you asked, clearly shocked, your breath taken away as the view became clearer.

As you reached him, he instantly reached out, pulling you close, his hands finding yours and intertwining your fingers. "Thought surprising you with something different than expensive stuff.", he smiled like a fool, full of love.

Tears of joy tingled in your eyes as you looked over his shoulder. It was breathtaking, like something out of a movie. Therewere various plates of food: one filled with your favorite fruits, another with candy, and a third brimming with crackers,cheese, olives, and everything he had found on Pinterest. Next to the plates sat a large pizza box and a bottle of your favorite wine, accompanied by two glasses.

Everything was beautifully arranged on a large white blanket, adorned with rose petals scattered among the different items.At the end of the blanket was a massive pile of pillows, every cushion Rafe could find around the house, except for those on the beds.

"This is - I don't even have words like, wow. It's so beautiful Rafe, thank you. Thank you so much." He reached down and tilted your head upwards, looking right into your eyes. "Everything. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you.", he whispered before crushing his lips against yours.

The kiss was tender and full of love, his lips moving slowly and intensely against yours.

He teased your bottom lip,smirking against your mouth as he felt you open up for him. His tongue found yours, and within moments, the kiss deepened,your hands exploring his chest and wrapping around his neck. Your body pressed against his, feeling his heart racing beneath his chest..

You felt your stomach getting all tingly, heat slowly pooling low in your stomach when you felt his hands greedily wandering over your stomach and right side, down towards your ass cupping it and pressing you even tighter against him.

A moan slipped past your lips, which he swallowed down like the air he needed to breathe. "Shit, stop doin' this shit or I'm gonna have you before we even made it to the blanket." he murmured against your lips, brushing his against yours.

Your eyes locked with his and a little smile formed on your lips. "Hmm, we wouldn't want that to happen, right?" A cheeky grin spread across Rafe’s face, revealing his mischievous thoughts.

You playfully rolled your eyes and took his hands in yours, pulling him toward the picnic. As you settled down, you glancedover your shoulder. When you turned back, Rafe was already hovering over you.

"I'm hungry.." Rafe grinned, looking at you like you were his last meal. "Rafe stop!", you giggled and pushed him off you so he tumbled beside you.

"Come on, let's eat before it gets cold.", you suggested, opening the pizza box. You took a piece and put it on a plate, placing it in front of Rafe while he uncorked the wine and poured each of you a glass.

"To us. To you, the most beautiful girlfriend on this planet.", he said with a cheeky smile, clinking his glass with yours before taking a sip.

You two started to eat and drink, the night filled with you guys laughter and chatting. "I know we said no big gifts and stuff but I still have something for you.", Rafe started when he placed a strawberry in front of your lips. "Rafe.." "Don't start baby doll, you're my girl, I can gift you what I want, alright?" A sight left your lips before you wrapped your lips around the strawberry, sucked it in a little bit and bit off a peace.

Rafe watched you intently, wetting his bottom lip with his tongue. "Damn you wanna get me high and dry tonight huh?" "What the hell?" you let out a loud laughter at that quote. "Weirdo.", you smirked at him while he pulled out a little box from the pocket of his jeans.

He pulled you into his lap, putting his head onto your shoulder from behind. "Here, open it.", he whispered inside your ear, putting it into your hands. You smiled at him and slowly took the lid off the small boy.

A small gasp left your lips when you looked at a beautiful shell that was threaded onto a golden necklace. "It's the shell you gave me when we first crashed into each other at the beach – the day you moved here, remember?" he kissed your cheek.

You could feel your heart aching with love, your troat slightly throbbing, trying to hold back the little sob. "You still have it?" "Hmm, always had it the top drawer beside my bed." his lips brushed against your cheek before he placed a gentle kiss there.

"Can you put it on me, please?" you asked, your bottom lip slightly quivering. " 'Course." he softly brushed your hair over your shoulder, took the necklace from your hand and placed it around your neck, securing the little clasp before placing your hair back over your shoulder. "Done."

You looked down at your chest and smiled at the little shell that hung now right above your other Necklace with an "R" on it. "It's beautiful, thank you. Can I give you yours now?", you smiled up at him, bending your head a little to look at him.

Before he could protest that you shouldn’t have gotten him anything, you pulled out something from your little purse. "Close your eyes." He obeyed, waiting patiently. You took his hand and opened it, placing the cool item in his palm.

"Okay, open now." ´, you told him, waiting for him to look at it. he opened his eyes and looked down o to his hand, a little golden necklace placed on it. He let out a chuckle and looked at you.

"Seems like we have similar tastes, huh?" "Open it, Rafe.", you said softly, knowing what's inside the golden pendant. He raised an eyebrow at you before taking it in both his hands and opening it up with his fingers.

His smile fell as he stared at the little black and white picture that was placed in it. He felt as if he were frozen, unable to move or even breathe. "Rafe? Baby..", you careful asked him, not sure If it may have been a bad idea to ask Sarah for that picture.

You saw his eyes filling with tears until the first one dropped right down his right cheeks, his lips starting to quiver. "I -" he tried to talk but his words were cut off by a little sob that made its way out of his throat. More tears followed down the first one on his cheek.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to make you cry, Rafe. Shit I -" He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a tight embrace, his head resting against your shoulder as he sobbed like a child, clutching the necklace in his fist. 

"Thank you.", he cried out, his eyes closed as he tried to regain his composure "Do you want me to put it on for you?", you asked softly, kissing his cheek while your arms were wrapped around him.

You just nodded, causing you to get up a little and carefully taking the necklace from his fist he had opened for you. You put it around his neck like he had earlier around yours and placed the pendant on his chest, a soft smile on your lips.

He looked down at it, opening it again and looking down at a little photo of his mom inside of it, smiling brightly at the camera.

"I asked your dad for it. He told me it was -", you corrected yourself, "is, his favorite picture of her." Rafe took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a second before meeting your gaze again.

"I love you so, so much, y/n. This is - it means so much to me." He said, his voice still trembling. "I love you too, Ray." He pulled you in for a sweet kiss, both his hands cradling your cheeks. "Best Valentine ever.", he chuckled against your lips, making you giggle.

Best Valentine indeed.

masterlist | taglist | navigation | valentines day special

taglist: @supernaturaldawning @cardibre91 @aegonsslxt @juliet-017 @lizzysmith110 @mattyskies @my-name-is-baby @synicaljah @tiaajosephin @gxdsfavgal @whyamireadingthis @starkeycore

xoxo sarah <3

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OFF THE RECORD ⋆✦⋆ gojo satoru

synopsis ➸ you know gojo too well to believe he’s here for a quick fuck. he’s here for a favor—one you have no intention of granting. too bad he’s never been good at taking no for an answer.

tags ➸ implied former student/teacher relationship, slight age gap, friends with benefits, possessive behavior, mild dom/sub themes, power play, manipulation, daddy kink, mild objectification, dirty talking, semi-public/public sex, mention of past sexual encounters, implied blackmail (it’s really not as bad as you think)

wc ➸ 10.9k

The steamy tendrils still clung to your skin as you stepped out of the shower, toweling off with a contented sigh. Mornings like this—quiet, peaceful routines before diving headfirst into the chaotic world of jujutsu—were increasingly rare these days. So you tried to savor each precious moment while it lasted.

With the towel secured around your body, you padded toward the bedroom to get dressed for yet another long day at headquarters. However, the second you stepped over the threshold, the hairs along your nape instantly prickled upright. A presence. An unmistakable shift in the air currents that could only mean—

"Well, good morning, gorgeous! Sleep well?"

You barely stifled the startled yelp as Gojo Satoru's cheerful baritone seemed to resonate from directly behind you. Whirling around, sure enough, there he was—all towering height, shredded muscle, and bright eyes glinting with clear amusement. How someone so powerful could also be so utterly shameless sometimes, you'd never know.

Doing your best to ignore the heat flooding your cheeks, you planted your hands on your hips in a stern facsimile of composure. "Satoru...what an unexpected surprise. Here I thought teachers were supposed to set good examples about respecting boundaries, not traipsing into former students' homes unannounced."

Rather than appear even remotely chagrined, Gojo simply chuckled and leaned back against your kitchen counter as if he owned the place. You watched in mild annoyance as his gaze slowly trailed up and down your towel-clad figure with undisguised appreciation.

"Hey now, no need for such icy formalities between us old friends," he chided, the barest hints of a smirk tugging at those infuriatingly full lips. "Besides, when have I ever cared about doing what's expected of me, hm? That's like...95% of my appeal, babe."

Rolling your eyes, you huffed out a resigned sigh and crossed the room to your closet, firmly squelching the instincts that urged you to yank the towel higher and more securely over your body. Gojo had seen—and thoroughly enjoyed—far more of you than this in the past. No sense getting flustered over his blazing regard now.

"Right, so does this impromptu visit have an actual purpose?" You shot him a pointed look over your shoulder as you fished out a crisp blouse and trousers to wear to HQ. "Or are you just being a pain as usual and raiding my fridge for a sugar fix again?"

You heard Gojo's low snort of amusement before his heavy footfalls sounded, clearly bringing him closer despite your protestations. "What can I say? Your kitchen is better stocked with sweets than most convenience stores. I can't help craving a little nibble now and then..."

The sultry undercurrent in his tone triggered a fresh blaze of heat along your nape. You could practically feel the smoldering weight of Gojo's stare boring into your ass as you bent to rifle through your bottom dresser drawer.

"But you're onto something with that other theory as well," he continued in a lower, more contemplative register. All traces of levity seemed to evaporate as his presence loomed larger behind you. "I did actually come to ask a favor of my very favorite former pupil. An important one that I wouldn't bother you about if the stakes weren't so high."

Curiosity and trepidation warred within your chest at the unexpected gravity clouding Gojo's usually buoyant candor. You instinctively straightened, clutching your clothes to your chest as you slowly turned to face him once more.

And just like that, the heated tension seemed to ratchet up several palpable notches as your eyes met and held in the claustrophobic space. Gojo's sculptured features had taken on a severe, intense edge—all sharp angles and tightly leashed power that instantly siphoned the breath from your lungs.

Suddenly, his earlier "playful" flirting and teasing manner seemed less like an act and more like a fragile facade barely containing his true tempestuous nature. You swallowed hard against the liquid lick of thrilling trepidation skating down your spine as Gojo maintained that weighty, piercing stare for several moments longer.

"...Is everything okay?" You finally managed in a hushed murmur, scarcely recognizing your own voice under the abrupt spell of Gojo's domineering energy. "What could possibly have you riled up enough to ditch the flippant act?"

Rather than immediately answering, Gojo closed the remaining distance between you with two long, purposeful strides. You had to crane your head back slightly to maintain eye contact as his powerful silhouette utterly consumed your space—the scalding brand of his body heat and crisp, masculine scent enveloping you from all sides.

"Believe me, kitten...if I came here for anything even remotely fun or pleasure-oriented, you wouldn't need to ask," he rumbled at last, voice pitched low enough to instill a full-body shiver along your nerves.

One of Gojo's large hands came up, and you froze as the rough pads of his knuckles grazed a feather-light caress along the line of your jaw. His thumb swiped over the seam of your lower lip in an utterly artless, possessive sweep—smoldering gaze following the motion with incendiary focus.

"I'd already have that smart mouth wrapped around my cock doing something far more useful than talking..."

Despite the crudity of his words, you couldn't quite stifle the punched-out whimper that slipped free at the graphic implication. Gojo's pupils blew fractionally wider in answer, tongue darting out to lave his lower lip as if tasting the charged undercurrents now rippling between you.

"Lucky for you, this is actually about business," he continued in that same resonant timbre that seemed to spark straight between your thighs each time his rich cadence washed over you. "The kind of serious business that even a lazy pervert like me can't afford...distractions for at the moment, got it?"

You managed a jerky nod, too disoriented by the heady spiral of desire cloying at your senses to do much else. Gojo's expression seemed to tighten further—a muscle feathering in his chiseled jaw as if steeling himself for whatever came next as he stepped back a bit.

"Itadori Yuji is scheduled for execution..." The blunt statement punched out like a missile deployment, brutally shredding the increasingly rapacious atmosphere between you. "And one way or another, I need that sentence postponed before it's too late."

You immediately shook your head, mouth set in a grim line. "Postponing Itadori Yuji's execution? That's not going to happen, Satoru."

His brows pinched slightly at your blunt refusal. "This is serious, kitten. That kid is instrumental to—"

"Don't you think I know how serious this is?" you cut him off, firming your voice into an authoritative tone. "I work directly under the higher-ups, remember? I'm well aware of the situation with Sukuna’s vessel and the potential ramifications of his continued existence."

Squaring your shoulders, you leveled Gojo with an unwavering stare. "My answer is final. Bringing this to the elders would be pointless at best, and could potentially jeopardize my position if they see it as insubordination. I'm not sacrificing everything I've worked for just because you showed up and gave me those stupid puppy dog eyes."

Rather than back down, Gojo simply regarded you with a contemplative tilt of his head—bright gaze assessing as if turning over your words from every possible angle. You could practically see the gears turning behind those piercing blue irises as he recalibrated his approach.

"Okay, let's table the business side of things for now," he said at last, tone losing some of its previous urgency. Straightening his body, Gojo prowled a step closer—effectively reclaiming the charged atmosphere from earlier. "Maybe you just need some...persuading to see reason."

You refused to be baited so easily, keeping your expression coolly neutral even as his scalding presence flooded your personal space once more. "I'm not some hormonal teenager letting her heart sway business decisions anymore, Satoru. Those games won't work."

Gojo hummed softly in response, head cocking as his lips curved into a slow, molten smirk. "We'll see about that..."

Without warning, his hands clamped down on your hips, thumbs digging in with delicious friction as he hauled you flush against the solid wall of his torso. You couldn't withhold the tiny gasp that punched free at the sudden, searing contact—every ridge and cording muscle of Gojo's powerful physique branding itself against your towel-clad frame.

"Does this position feel...familiar to you at all, gorgeous?" he murmured in a honeyed rasp right against the whorl of your ear. His nose trailed a path along your jaw as he dipped to mouth steamy, lingering kisses down the fragrant column of your throat. "Maybe sparks a few memories of the last time you found yourself pinned underneath me...crying out for more the whole night through?"

A shudder rippled down your spine at the crude allusion to your long-ago graduation celebration with Gojo. You remembered that encounter vividly—every slick rasp of skin against skin, the sweltering tangle of limbs, the exquisite ache of being split open on his thick cock over and over until the entire room reeked of your joined passion.

Gojo merely chuckled at your flustered squirming, nosing aside the collar of your towel to lave a heated path along your collarbone. "Mmm...that's right. There were points that night where I had my cock buried so fuckin' deep in this perfect pussy of yours that you could taste it on the back of your tongue with every breath."

You bit back a shuddering whimper at the crude imagery, willpower rapidly crumbling beneath his carnal onslaught. Despite your best efforts, the memories he so skillfully stoked were stoking liquid tendrils of arousal thrumming to life between your thighs. Gojo's grin stretched wider as you unconsciously arched into his scorching frame.

"Always did love ruining you on my dick that first time," he rumbled with blatant gratification against your heated skin. "Watching those gorgeous eyes glaze over while I split you open again and again until you passed out..."

Abruptly, Gojo detached his mouth from the thundering pulse at your jugular with one final lingering sweep of his sinful tongue. Smirking down at your glazed, panting expression, he tucked an errant lock of hair behind your ear.

"But hey...while fun memories are nice, I'd rather make some new ones together after work," he said, suddenly all casual nonchalance once more as he meandered towards the door. "I'll pick you up from HQ when your shift is over and we can...discuss this Itadori thing some more in private. That sound good to you, babe?"

You blinked rapidly, trying to reassemble your scattered thoughts as the searing proximity of Gojo's presence withdrew—leaving you bereft and utterly unbalanced by the shift.

"Don't worry your pretty head over giving me an answer," Gojo called over his shoulder as he palmed the doorknob. "I already know you'll say yes when I remind you again how much that tight little pussy loves being split open on my—"

The door snapped shut with a hollow thud, cutting off the rest of his filthy promise. Though the last rakish wink he slanted your way before departing was more than enough to sear the implication deep into your psyche.

Sinking heavily back against the wall, you fought to regain your equilibrium—limbs quaking and breath escaping in ragged pants that did nothing to dissuade the rising tide of feverish arousal still gripping your core. Gojo had utterly unraveled you into a breathless, squirming mess from just a few suggestive caresses and searing endearments.

And despite your best efforts, you got the gnawing suspicion he'd made up his mind to thoroughly capitalize on—and ruthlessly extend—that molten state when you inevitably saw him again tonight.

The long hours crept by at an agonizing pace as you tried to focus on your duties at headquarters. But the memory of Gojo's heated presence that morning, his crude allusions to your long-ago passionate tryst, made it utterly impossible to concentrate.

You vividly recalled the way his powerful frame had caged you against the wall, face nuzzling along your flushed throat as that rich, smoky timbre painted filthy promises about thoroughly splitting you open again soon. Just the phantom whisper of Gojo's searing lips tracing your thundering pulse was enough to catalyze wild tremors of molten arousal deep in your core.

Each time you shifted in your seat or bent over the piles of paperwork, you could've sworn a delirious ache throbbed between your thighs—muscles fluttering with unbearable emptiness. Like they instinctively yearned to be stretched taut around the thick, punishing girth of Gojo's cock once more, just like that rapturous night of your graduation celebration.

The explicit images and flashes of sensation made concentrating an exercise in futility. Only your rigid adherence to professionalism and composure prevented you from squirming like an utter harlot right there in front of your subordinates.

By the time the evening hours finally rolled around, you felt strung as taut as a high wire—electrified nerves screaming for any sort of reprieve from Gojo's lingering psychic imprint. So you hastily packed your bags and paperwork, determined to slip out before he had a chance to accost you again.

However, the second you passed through the main entrance gates, a powerful hand shot out to clamp around your bicep in an authoritative grip. You barely contained the strangled gasp as Gojo's sheer masculine presence enveloped you, dragging you into the shadowed seclusion of a nearby alcove.

The cool stone bit into your back as he firmly levered your wrists overhead, utterly pinning you in place with his hulking silhouette. Gojo's piercing blue eyes glinted in the dim light, scorching a path down your disheveled figure with undisguised intent.

"Leaving so soon?" The deep, resonant timbre of his voice washed over you in smoky tendrils, already catalyzing a fresh blaze of arousal in your veins. "And here I was looking forward to picking up where we left off earlier..."

To emphasize his point, Gojo surged forward until every inch of his powerful frame molded against yours in a delicious, searing brand. You whimpered softly as his weight pinned you fully, feeling the unmistakable rigid line of his erection notching against your lower belly.

Gojo ducked his head with a low rumble of approval, searing lips and tongue mapping a scorching path along the fragrant hollow of your throat. You instinctively tilted your head aside to grant him better access, shuddering helplessly as he indulged in long, openmouthed draughts of your scent and flushed skin.

"F-Fuck...Satoru, not here!" The words emerged in a reedy, breathless whine against your better judgment as his wicked mouth found that sensitive bundle of nerves just below your ear. You writhed beneath the slow torment with increasing desperation. "Anyone could catch us...this is crazy!"

Rather than immediately address your token protests, Gojo merely chuckled—the warm puffs of his amusement ghosting deliciously along your tingling nerves as he mouthed a stinging graze against your racing pulse. One of his large, calloused palms slid down to engulf your hip in a possessive squeeze, already kneading and grinding you in a slow simmer of friction.

"You say that like you've never been desperate enough to beg me to fuck you right here in these hallways before..." The low, sensually-charged growl shivered your bones down to the marrow. Gojo finally pulled back enough to cage your dazed features fully within his piercing stare—lips curved in a lascivious smirk of fond reminiscence. "Multiple times, if I'm recalling correctly."

Heat flared through your cheeks as the graphic imagery took shape against your fraying resistance—lurid memories of breathless encounters where the thrill of potentially being caught by patrolling sentries only fueled the delirious flames higher. You swallowed hard against the thickness now cloying your throat, squirming in feeble denial.

Gojo's smirk deepened into something utterly sinful as he drank in your expression with clear relish. "Do you need me to refresh your memory about the last time you had me backed into a supply closet?" he rasped, leaning in until the blistering brand of his body seared you from chest to hip once more. "How hard you came when I finally pulled those thighs apart and licked straight through your soaked—"

"Enough!" you gasped out before he could fully unleash the damning words. You renewed your efforts at wriggling free in earnest, well aware your weakening restraint wouldn't last against Gojo's relentless carnal onslaught. "I-I...maybe we should actually go somewhere more appropriate first. Dinner, maybe?"

Despite your sudden meek suggestion, you couldn't quite mask the desperation laced through the plaintive request. Gojo's eyes seemed to glitter brighter at the shift in your demeanor, clearly scenting weakness in the offing as he allowed his grip to relax somewhat.

"Dinner first, huh?" He pursed those full lips into an exaggerated pout of contemplation before relenting with a dramatic sigh. "Well, I suppose that's only fair since I'm the one working up an appetite here..."

With one last blistering look that robbed you of breath entirely, Gojo stepped back and pivoted on his heel to swagger away down the narrow thoroughfare like a man supremely assured of victory. You could only sag back against the alcove wall, chest heaving with exertion as the towering remnants of arousal slowly ebbed.

However, there remained little doubt in your overwrought psyche that this temporary reprieve from your joining was little more than the universe's taunting cruelty. You'd awoken Gojo's darkest, most lascivious appetites earlier that morning.

And if the way he slanted one final look over his powerful shoulder—bright irises already blown wide and jaw clenching subtly around what had to be punishing levels of restraint—then the true feasting was only just about to begin in earnest. With your achingly empty body as the main course.

The opulent restaurant oozed sophistication from every polished surface and perfectly-starched linen. The sommelier's formal bow and crisp recitation of the evening's premier wine offerings seemed utterly wasted on the two of you.

You eyed Gojo over the rim of your glass, the dry Cabernet doing little to dull the lingering tension still thrumming between your joined frames. As always, he looked utterly nonplussed about the lavish indulgences surrounding you—crisp white dress shirt straining across his muscular torso and sharp jawline rasped by the beginnings of late evening stubble. Like a predator eternally at ease, regardless of situation.

Gojo's piercing gaze roamed over you with the same slow, assessing intensity one might reserve for an exquisite delicacy awaiting consumption. You tried not to squirm under that molten scrutiny, clearing your throat pointedly.

"I'm assuming there was some purpose behind corralling me into this place," you remarked in your best professional tone. "Beyond getting me liquored up for some inappropriate table exhibition, that is."

Rather than rebuff your dig, Gojo simply angled his head in a catlike tilt—lips curling into a devilish smirk that telegraphed his carnal interest crystal clear. Leaning further back in his chair, he allowed one broad palm to splay suggestively over the crisp linen covering his lap, fingertips drumming out an idle staccato.

"Well now, I certainly wouldn't say no to having those gorgeous lips wrapped around something else for a change." His deep timbre emerged laced with sin and smoky insinuation. "You always did look like an utter vision stuffed under these fancy tabletops sucking me off..."

Heat blossomed across your cheeks despite your best efforts at composure. You knocked back another bracing swallow of wine, struggling not to dwell on the searing flashes his words evoked—memories of delirious encounters where Gojo had hauled you under secluded tables to properly appreciate your skills with relentless, undisguised gratification.

Swallowing thickly, you gripped your fork with slightly more force than necessary."I'd ask if you're always this disgracefully crass and lascivious in public these days...but then I remembered who I'm talking to," you said dryly. "So in the interest of not causing a scene, why don't we get to the point of this little ambush?"

One brow arched infinitesimally as Gojo cocked his head further, clearly drinking in your prim and vaguely irritated state with evident relish. "You seem awfully anxious to rush right to business," he murmured, fingertips continuing their idle rhythm against the tablecloth. "Where's that simmering self-restraint and haughty composure I remember enjoying unraveling piece...by...delicious...piece so thoroughly back in the day?"

You opened your mouth to fire back a scathing retort, only for Gojo to cut you off with a low, lush rumble. "Unless you've simply decided being insatiably thirsty for this cock is more your speed these days..."

With that quiet taunt, his free hand disappeared beneath the pristine linen swathe in a heavy, meaningful descent. You swallowed convulsively as his fingertips slid along the unmistakable ridge of his thick cock straining against the unforgiving fabric of his slacks. Every knuckle undulated in a deliberate, stroking glide that tightened your throat like a vise around trapped breaths and unspoken pleas.

"Can practically already taste how soaked you're getting beneath those prim layers just from the thought alone..." Gojo continued in a molten rasp heavy with undisguised gratification. "Imagining that filthy little mouth stretched wide around my girth again, glazing yourself in my cum right here in front of god and all these polite company..."

A tiny, reedy sound slipped unbidden from your constricted chest despite your best efforts at locking it down. Gojo's lascivious smirk turned rapacious as he correctly scented the spike of liquid want now cloying the humid space between you.

"So what do you say, gorgeous?" He pitched his timbre slightly lower, allowing each gravelled syllable to curl around your senses with lashes of pure elemental sin. "Going to be a good little famished cocksleeve and give me a hand under the table before we get down to—"

You cut across his brazen soliloquy with a forceful rap of your fork against the tabletop. Pulling yourself together, you fixed Gojo with a severe glower that finally seemed to give him pause.

"If you can't conduct yourself with any semblance of decorum befitting your station, then I'm through entertaining these adolescent displays," you bit out in a hushed tone edged with adamant warning. "I'm not some wide-eyed underling fresh off the training fields anymore, Satoru. I have higher standing and responsibility than you seem to grasp."

Silence stretched between you for a weighted beat—Gojo's heated gaze flickering over you with renewed focus you couldn't quite decipher. When he finally spoke again, there was a note of uncharacteristic control underpinning his typically buoyant candor. Clearly, he'd grasped the need to change tactics once more.

"You're absolutely right," he said after a prolonged pause. "Part of me forgets just how much you've grown and ascended the ranks over the years." One side of his mouth curved higher in a lopsided ghost of his usual smirk. "Clearly earned the elders' respect and esteem far beyond that of a simple 'secretary' as I put it earlier."

Before you could retort, Gojo pressed onwards—hand sliding almost absently back into view to wrap around the stem of his wine flute. "Which is exactly why your assistance is pivotal to turning the tide regarding Yuji's current...perilous circumstances."

There was a grim finality in his words that snapped you back to the seriousness of the moment like a sobering slap to the face. You shifted fractionally taller in your seat, expression hardening as Gojo continued in low, adamant tones.

"Whether you're fully aware or care to admit it right now, that kid is destined to be pivotal for the upcoming events on the horizon," he rumbled with quiet conviction. "Leaving him to get executed off the books tomorrow morning would be tantamount to losing our most powerful asset before the real battles even begin."

Swirling his wine idly, Gojo paused to take an unhurried pull directly from the bottle before continuing. "Which is why I'm going to need to call in more than a few favors getting his sentence postponed tonight. Starting with you, of course..."

There was a new current of steely focus glinting in his gaze as it bored into you with ruthless intensity. For several protracted beats, you simply held each other's stares—gauging the lengths and motivations rumbling beneath the surface beyond petty physical exploits.

Finally, you pursed your lips and shook your head in a solemn negation. "I'm sorry, but I can't overstep protocol and abuse my influence with the elders like that," you stated, quietly adamant. "Not even for you, Satoru. The ramifications could unravel everything I've worked decades to attain if word got out I went rogue."

Rather than exploding in his usual flashes of arrogance or wounded pride, Gojo merely raked you with a glower of narrowed, simmering intent. His next words emerged more pointed and resonating than any innuendo or filthy endearment preceding it.

"Are you sure about that stance?" he intoned darkly. "Because if memory serves, there are a few distinct...indiscretions we've engaged in that could certainly be construed as 'unraveling' by the elders' view, wouldn't you agree?"

The waiter's polished footsteps faded as he departed to fetch their entrees, leaving you and Gojo in a weighted silence. You could practically taste the undercurrent of tension simmering in the air between you both.

Sipping his wine slowly, Gojo dragged his incandescent stare over your features with undisguised intensity. "I'm serious about this," he stated in a low, firm rumble that brooked no further evasion. "We're talking everything from inappropriate use of jujutsu techniques to conduct we both know crosses so many lines..."

He trailed off meaningfully, leaving the implications to hang heavy as his tongue slicked over his lower lip. You swallowed hard against the rising heat prickling across your cheeks and neck.

"Like that night in the east gardens behind the training halls," Gojo continued, voice dropping into a deeper, more intimate register that curled straight between your thighs. "Where I pinned you down in the grass and ate you out until you came all over my face. And then I fucked you so hard, you nearly passed out before we got caught."

Despite yourself, a tremulous shiver raked through your nerves as the visceral flashes assaulted your mind's eye—the frantic rasp of his calloused palms roaming and kneading, the slick motions of his tongue probing and savoring parts of you meant for far more intimate settings.

Gojo noticed your reaction with a dark chuckle, clearly satisfied he'd reeled you back in completely. "Or what about the time you wrapped those pretty lips around my cock in the maintenance closet and let me rail your throat until you choked on my load? How many rules was just that one encounter bending, hm?"

The directness of his words scorched through you with dizzying potency, making you flush and squirm. You parted your lips on a shaky exhale, determined to regain some semblance of control.

But Gojo smirked knowingly and pressed his verbal advantage in a low, filthy rumble. "Face it, I've got enough material on you ruining me with that greedy little mouth and pussy all over campus to get you defrocked hard." His hooded azure gaze practically seared into your core. "And yet you really wanna risk me airing all those dirty details to the elders? Leaving Itadori's fate to chance like that?"

Your mouth felt suddenly dry as you wrestled with the undeniable truth behind his taunting words. For several fraught beats, the frustration and righteous indignation warred with your embedded sense of duty to the cause. Finally, you released a shuddery breath and lifted your chin.

"I'll...see what I can do about swaying things in your favor," you muttered in a low, slightly strained tone. "No promises, but I'll try discussing options with the higher-ups."

Rather than seem appeased, Gojo's expression only hardened further—carved features settling into a granite mask of tenacious stubbornness and smoldering impatience. "'Not good enough, kitten," he rumbled, forearms tensing atop the table. "This mission is too fucking important for halfhearted measures. I need you to outright insist on a stay of execution being granted, got it? No more stammering 'I'll try' bullshit that lets them sidestep."

His unyielding stare pinned you with the intensity of a physical force, raising your hackles slightly despite your attempt at diplomacy. Still, looking into those blazing blue embers, you got the distinct impression that you'd sooner achieve moving a mountain with vocal commands than sway Gojo on this matter. That steely resolve would accept nothing less than complete victory in postponing Itadori's fate.

Just as you began resigning yourself to digging in for another round of heated back-and-forth across the fancy tablecloth, the arrival of the main courses mercifully broke the combative spell between you. Gojo seemed to settle back imperceptibly as the waiter swept in—that scorching intensity banking down to a more companionable smolder for the time being.

Still, you recognized the temporary reprieve for what it was as you tucked into your meal with far less gusto than anticipated. Despite his best efforts to gloss over the previous tension with idle banter and lighter conversational tones, it remained silently understood that the evening's main purpose still hung unresolved and delicate between you until matters were final.

So it was with an undercurrent of somber expectation that you finally settled the check and rose to follow Gojo from the opulent dining hall at evening's end. A subtle snap of his fingers triggered a curiously disorienting sensation of compression and vertigo—only to release you blinking in surprise mere heartbeats later, finding yourself suddenly standing in the familiar living quarters you called home.

"I'd say you're handling that little trick with far more aplomb these days," Gojo remarked with a lopsided grin, clearly drinking in your adjustment to his impromptu teleportation with amusement. "Remember when I first started zipping you around like that? Pretty sure you heaved your guts all over those ugly penny loafers you used to wear back in the day."

Huffing out a noise of semi-fond exasperation, you aimed a swat at his sculpted arm without malice. "Yes, well I suppose youth and naivety breed certain...overzealous behaviors, don't they?" you retorted before immediately sobering once more. "Like making reckless judgment calls that imperil an entire system..."

Gojo's expression remained impassive, giving no outward indication whether your choice of words struck any particular chord with him. However, you caught the faintest glimmer flickering behind those incandescent blue irises - the barest hint that perhaps you'd underestimated just how much gravitas your dissenting opinion potentially held with the higher-ups.

After all, you were Gojo Satoru's first and most distinguished pupil back when he initially ascended to teaching status, weren't you? Not only that, but your judicious control and prime mastery of your innate techniques embodied many of the fundamental philosophies and fighting styles the old guard so staunchly valued. On numerous occasions, your skills had been cited as quintessential examples to uphold for future generations...

You blinked, momentarily caught off guard as the weighty truth of your potential sway with leadership gradually bobbed to the surface of your consciousness like drift debris after a storm. This entire evening, Gojo might have simply been maneuvering to forcibly realign your perspective on leveraging the hidden influence you apparently wielded without ever fully grasping it.

To truly comprehend the magnitude of the gambit he intended to play using your standing as the key gambit.

Before you could properly parse that sobering epiphany, however, Gojo had already closed what little distance remained between your frames with purposeful strides. The blistering heat of his body all but blanketed yours as he leaned in with that familiar aura of prowling, casual intensity that always made your breath stall.

"So..." he murmured, voice pitching into a lower register that seemed to slither straight down your spine. "Does that mean you're gonna be a good girl and invite me inside so we can continue this intriguing conversation in more...comfortable accommodations?"

Gojo punctuated the brazen implication by cocking one arm against the doorframe, effectively caging you between the cool wood and the searing, masculine planes of his torso and hips. You were abruptly overwhelmed by the reality of his proximity - each subtly shifting ripple of sinew and musculature utterly inescapable from this range.

That distinctly virile, elemental musk that always set your senses clamoring was back in full force as well. You swallowed hard, nostrils flaring fractionally as the delirious essence of Gojo's body heat and clean, faintly spiced perspiration flooded your olfactory receptors. Despite your most ardent efforts, you felt your lids grow heavy and mouth part unconsciously as liquid frissons of pure, burgeoning temptation licked through your veins.

Just like that, with a few deftly aimed strokes, Gojo had reeled you back to the precipice of helpless surrender once more. Still, you summoned the dregs of your stern resolve and planted your palms squarely against his chest, levering back an inch to preserve some semblance of boundaries.

"Subtle as ever, I see," you managed in a tone you hoped came across more dryly exasperated than outright breathless. "I should've guessed the moment we arrived you'd be angling to make yourself at home uninvited."

One brow arched higher, though you didn't miss the slight crinkling at the corners of Gojo's stupidly pretty eyes betraying his hushed amusement. "Oof, someone has their defenses wound just a tad tightly if they think I require permission these days," he shot back with a wry rumble.

Before you could summon a retort, that leonine physique surged forward in a slow, sensual undulation—once again pinning you fully against the unyielding wooden slab with the scorching brand of his larger frame. Gojo's free hand drifted down to palm the generous curve of your hip with sinful insistence, hips canting forward until there could be no mistaking the ridge of his erection notching against your lower belly.

"Better question might be..." His voice dropped several delirious octaves into those sandpaper-rough timbres that seemed to sizzle straight through your nerve endings. "Why even bother pretending at token protests when we both know how this little dance is gonna end...?"

Those incandescent azure irises flickered down to where his fingertips were already stroking teasing swirls against the exposed strip of skin between your top and waistband, silently daring you to rebuff such an implicit capitulation.

"So why delay the inevitable any longer, gorgeous?" Gojo rumbled against your lips, voice dropping into that gravelly timbre designed to liquefy your restraint. "Let's get down to stripping off all these formalities once and for—"

"You haven't even kissed me yet today," you blurted out, cutting across his heated soliloquy.

Gojo's pale brows pinched infinitesimally as the words seemed to momentarily stall his single-minded determination. You could practically see the gears turning behind those hooded azure irises as he processed your statement—likely running back through every provocative encounter and instance of attempted seduction throughout the evening.

When his piercing stare finally snapped back to yours, there was the faintest glimmer of sheepish realization burning there. "...Huh. You're right," he remarked in a slightly lower, more subdued tone. "Here I've been working overtime to rile you up, and I haven't even had the balls to properly lay one on you yet."

You tried not to visibly preen under the gratifying acknowledgment, but couldn't quite suppress the tiny quirk tugging at the corners of your mouth. Sensing a rare window of opportunity, you shifted your weight more fully against the solid contours of Gojo's frame, allowing your fingers to trail upwards in delicate spirals.

"Well?" You arched one brow in playful challenge, throat bobbing on a swallow as your digits mapped higher along the tendons of his powerful neck. "Are you going to actually follow through, or am I going to have to take the initiative here?"

For one heated beat, Gojo simply held your pointed stare in taut suspension—the atmosphere between you both seeming to atomize down into charged ionization particles awaiting the slightest catalyst to detonate. Then, his lips curved higher in a lopsided smirk you'd come to recognize as pure, unrepentant recklessness sublimating into physical form.

"You're going to have to come and get it, gorgeous," he rumbled, the raspy undercurrents sending delicious frissons shivering along your nerves. "Show me just how badly you've been starving for a real taste all evening."

His dexterous fingers slid up to cup the line of your jaw, thumb sweeping suggestively across your lower lip in a searing caress. You struggled not to whimper at the electrifying friction as Gojo leaned further into your personal space.

However, rather than ducking his head the final few scant inches to seal his mouth hungrily over yours, the insufferable tease merely arched backward—body undulating in a slow, sinuous retreat until he towered over you at his full impressive stature. The tip of his tongue darted out to lave his lower lip in clear relish, eyes glinting with wicked invitation as he silently dared you to make good on rising to his heated gauntlet.

A thrill of excitement and determination lanced through your chest as you instantly grasped the game afoot. With purposeful, unhurried movements, you allowed your palms to splay across the granite warmth of his abdomen before slowly, teasingly tracking higher in a worshiping glide. Every rippling corde and sinewy groove of his musculature became briefly profiled as you glided your touch upwards - mapping the scorching acreage in ardent appreciation.

Gojo watched your journey with blown pupils and ragged breaths, torso visibly expanding with each shuddering inhalation he dragged against his impressive restraint. You didn't miss the flex and bunching of his arms and shoulders as you passed over his pectorals, clearly fighting not to haul you bodily against him right then and simply crush your pliant frames back into mutual rapture.

But still, he remained steadfast and motionless—a living marble statue gloriously chiseled from pure virile perfection, awaiting your reverent indulgences with a banked smolder burning behind his hooded stare.

Finally, your fingertips dusted across the sharp angles of his jaw and cheekbones, body arching and straining upwards in your single-minded pursuit of that elusive, smug mouth you craved with mounting desperation. Try as you might to extend yourself onto the balls of your feet and go fully up on tiptoes, Gojo maintained a scant whisper of distance—always hovering just out of your reach with an expression of blatant masculine gratification at your squirming efforts.

A huff of breathy frustration nearly slipped free at the persistent denial, only to be silenced by the way Gojo instinctively dipped lower as if to grant your wish...only to arc back with a low, filthy chuckle that reverberated against your now-thundering pulse. It was as much a sensual dance of control and restraint as a taunt or test of wills at this juncture—simply savoring the delirious friction generated as your pliant, questing form sought to twine and pull him down into decadent oblivion, inch by maddening inch.

"Easy there, kitten..." he rasped in a low, smoky cadence designed to further short-circuit your resolve. "Why don't you try dropping to those pretty knees for me? Might give you better leverage and angles to play with in reaching those tempting lips that have been tormenting that insatiable appetite of yours..."

You answered with a full-body shudder and a needy keen spilling free from your very marrow—all thoughts of recalcitrance and willpower now thoroughly banished beneath the inescapable gravity well of Gojo's hypnotic presence and unholy temptations.

You whined out loud, an unguarded noise of pure pleading desire that seemed to momentarily crack through your usually reserved demeanor. "Satoru...please, wanna kiss you so badly."

The raw, plaintive tone of your entreaty hung in the air between you, heavy with naked yearning in a way that gave even Gojo pause. His brilliant eyes seemed to smolder brighter for an instant, no doubt dredging up fond recollections of past occasions where he'd so thoroughly unraveled your ironclad poise and reduced you to this state.

Rather than pounce on your vulnerability or tease further, however, Gojo's expression softened ever so slightly. One broad palm cradled the back of your skull as he ducked in closer, guiding your trembling frame until your brows nearly brushed.

"Since you asked so nicely..." he murmured, deep timbre emerging somewhere between a graveled purr and heated rumble.

You barely managed a shuddering inhalation before Gojo sealed his mouth over yours in a searing brand of possession. The initial clash of lips and tongue was something closer to an elemental force than a mere intimate exchange—not at all gentle, but rife with pent-up longing and ravenous need finally given free rein.

Your fingers instinctively knotted in the soft fabric of his shirt as Gojo laid an utterly thorough claim upon your senses. He swallowed each desperate little noise and whimper that punched free as if savoring the most delectable of delicacies. One thick forearm banded around your lower back to anchor you fully against his solid frame as he deepened the devouring cadence with relentless intensity.

A husky growl of clear approval and gratification rumbled against your slick, swollen mouth as Gojo momentarily allowed a scant parting for air. "Fuck...I'd almost forgotten how greedy and eager this talented little tongue can get," he grated with clear relish.

You could only pant and squirm fitfully in answer, thoughts scattered like dandelion seeds on a breeze. Gojo simply chuckled richly—the timbre vibrating straight through your very cells in a way that somehow untethered your feet from the ground entirely.

The next thing you clearly registered were his powerful arms banding beneath the backs of your thighs to haul you securely against his body in one smooth, easy motion. Your startled yelp melted into a tremulous sigh as the bunching plains of his torso and abdomen braced your arched spine in a sublime full-body embrace.

"Don't go passing out on me before the real fun starts," Gojo husked against the thundering pulse at your nape, even as his long strides carried you across the threshold of your apartment. "I've got plans for putting that gifted mouth to far better uses than just kissing..."

With your legs now locked around his narrow hips, you could feel every delicious ridge and twitch of his growing erection grinding against your dampening heat through the flimsy barriers separating you. A piteous whine slipped free as the swaying rhythm of his determined gait threatened to unravel you down to your very foundation.

"That's it, let me hear just how desperate I've got you aching to taste me properly again," Gojo growled against the whorl of your ear, each guttural rasp sparking fresh convulsions of need between your thighs. "Been waiting all fucking day to unwrap this gorgeous little prize and savor you inch...by...inch."

Gojo punctuated the lascivious promise by swiveling to carefully lay you out amidst the rumpled linens and cushions—each flickering shadow casting his chiseled features into harsh relief. No more levity or evasion glossed his expression, only the stark severity and zero-compromises focus of a predator fully engaged.

Rather than pounce on you immediately, however, Gojo seemed to pause and simply drink in the sight of your breathless, disheveled state with smoldering intent. His bright eyes roamed over every inch of your upturned features and the generous curves left tantalizingly displayed by your askew clothing.

"Goddamn..." he rumbled in a deep timbre thick with undisguised yearning. "Look at you splayed out for me, practically begging to get worked over already."

You swallowed hard, unable to tear your gaze away from the pure masculine intensity blazing in his stare. There was an undercurrent of restrained hunger there that made your pulse thunder—heady and distinctly feral even as Gojo slowly prowled over your prone body.

Rather than immediately claim you in a reckless flurry of lust, his calloused palms mapped your sides in a languid, purposeful glide all the way up to your rib cage. You arched instinctively into his maddening caresses, whimpering softly in anticipation.

"Easy there, baby..." Gojo murmured in a low rasp against the whorl of your ear. His nose trailed along the thrumming tendons of your neck, clearly savoring the scent of your desire. "You act like it's been months since this pretty pussy has been spread out and stuffed full. And after all the time I spent working you into this gorgeous, wrecked state..."

You squirmed fitfully beneath his unyielding weight, needy whines spilling past your parted lips as Gojo continued leisurely nuzzling and nipping along your jawline and throat. Despite the unhurried leisure of his attentions, you were rapidly spiraling into molten delirium between his hoarse endearments and the tantalizing friction where your bodies met.

"What, so impatient you can't even let me take a second to savor this?" Gojo husked out in a gravel-rough rasp that made you shiver. "I had to spend all damn day thinking about bending you over the second we were alone...so you'll excuse me if I take things slow now that I've got you all wound up and drenched for it."

Emphasizing his point, Gojo slotted one thick, muscular thigh between your parted legs, rocking forward in a slow grind that dragged the solid length of his cock against your molten entrance through the thin barrier separating you. You cried out sharply at the delicious friction, back bowing as frantic nails scoured tracks down his flexing shoulder blades in desperation.

"Yeah...that's it, squirm and moan for me like a good girl," Gojo growled in clear approval, tongue laving a wet path along the fragrant hollow of your throat. "Keep making those filthy sounds and just MAYBE I'll finally give you what you've been gagging for all night."

You could only whimper raggedly in compliance as his mouth moved lower, searing a path from collarbone to the generous swell of your breasts. His large hands cradled and kneaded the soft flesh with relish before tugging the stretchy fabric aside to bare one nipple to the calloused heat of his lips and tongue.

"That's right...let Daddy get his fill and reacquaint himself with every lush goddamn inch," Gojo growled around the rosy peak, sending lightning bolts of sensation zinging straight to your molten core. "Been thinking about sucking and biting these perfect tits all over again ever since you walked into that restaurant looking like a goddamn meal..."

Despite his crude admission, there was an undercurrent of clear reverence and tender devotion laced through his ragged cadences now. Gojo laved and nuzzled at your breasts with all the ardent indulgence of a penitent savoring their last meal before execution. His hooded azure gaze seemed to blaze brighter with each piteous keen and arch you offered up in answer to his lavishing.

Just as you felt yourself ascending the spiraling crescendo toward mindless bliss under his skilled attentions, Gojo abruptly detached from your saturated nipple with a low noise of harsh restraint. You whined plaintively, eyes glassy as your hands reflexively fisted in the front of his shirt—silently pleading for him to resume lapping away at the fiery deprivation swiftly devouring you inside out.

"Easy, baby..." he rasped through gritted teeth, clearly suppressing his own spiraling ardor through sheer force of iron will. "I didn't wait this long to absolutely wreck you just to blow it all on some half-assed foreplay."

Slanting his mouth over yours in another scorching, possessive claim, Gojo cradled your overwrought features between those rough, calloused palms with surprising tenderness.

His thumb smoothed along your cheekbone as the kiss gradually shifted into a slow, sensual undulation.

"Tell me what you want," he murmured against the seam of your lips. "Let Daddy hear you ask for it nice and loud."

The command emerged as a gravelly whisper, though his blazing stare held an unmistakable glint of command. Still, the blatant carnal hunger etched into his expression made you feel positively giddy and invincible as your fingertips trailed along the corded lines of his powerful throat.

"I want you inside me, Sensei," you pleaded, voice pitching into a breathy whine. "Please, I need to feel you filling me up again."

Gojo groaned, clearly relishing the shameless admission and the way your thighs clenched reflexively around his hips. You could feel the rigid contours of his cock twitching eagerly against your slickened folds through the layers separating you.

"Fuck, the mouth on you," he rasped, nipping lightly at the underside of your jaw. "You know what it does to me when you call me that."

"Good," you purred, allowing your fingers to trail higher until they carded through the silky soft strands of his hair. "Now, are you going to stop stalling and show me how much better you are at playing teacher in bed?"

Your bold retort earned a snarl of pure male approval, though the sound quickly tapered into a groan as you deliberately canted your hips to drag the seeping damp of your panties against his throbbing erection. Gojo's fingers instinctively curled tighter around your neck, pinning you into place as he bucked and rolled his pelvis forward to reciprocate the delicious friction.

"Alright then, smartass..." he rasped, pupils blown nearly black with ravenous need as he stared down at your upturned, flushed face. "If that's how you wanna play it, I'm gonna make damn sure you're thoroughly re-educated on who exactly holds the reins here."

Without further ado, his hands drifted down to tug insistently at your waistband, practically shredding the flimsy fabric in his haste to free you from the rest of your clothing. You shivered at the way the cool evening air instantly pebbled across your newly exposed skin, though any instinctive modesty was quickly chased away by the hungry stare drinking in your naked form.

Gojo's expression shifted into a predatory leer, the sight sending another jolt of electric anticipation shooting through your already-jangling nerve endings. "That's better," he rumbled, broad palm skating a path up your inner thigh with unhurried reverence. "Nothing should be allowed to hide such a perfect view of my favorite fucking dessert."

You bit back a whimper at the possessive timbres lacing his gravel-rough voice, thighs twitching restlessly as Gojo's touch continued mapping higher. Finally, his questing fingertips slid into the sticky slick coating your swollen folds, dragging the copious evidence of your desire back to where your clit throbbed with need.

"Oh, look at that..." Gojo practically cooed, the filthy delight and awe laced through his voice sending a fresh rush of warmth spilling out against his dexterous ministrations. "Daddy's been neglecting his baby girl, and she's absolutely soaking wet already. How long has my gorgeous kitten been aching like this, hmm?"

The words emerged somewhere between a teasing croon and a gravelly growl, and you could only shudder and keen as Gojo continued rubbing maddening circles over your hypersensitive bud. The friction was already pushing you rapidly to the edge, and judging by the way Gojo's hooded gaze flickered up to watch your rapture, he could tell as much.

"Ah-ah...no cumming until you beg Daddy to fuck you properly," he rasped, even as his index and ring fingers dipped shallowly into your fluttering channel—teasing and stretching the seeping velvet heat in a way that made you sob out loud. "Don't make me have to punish you for being so naughty, kitten. You know I can keep you on the edge all night if I need to."

Your spine bowed and back arched as you writhed and thrashed beneath his touch, a litany of breathy whimpers and pleas falling from your kiss-swollen lips. "Please, please, Daddy, don't tease me," you begged shamelessly, the words nearly slurring together with raw need. "I'll be a good girl, I swear. Please, please just fuck me..."

Gojo's gaze sharpened with clear gratification as you entreated his mercy, and he finally eased off on the merciless friction between your thighs. Your lungs burned with the force of gulping down ragged lungfuls of air, but you were given scant reprieve before his hands gripped and lifted your thighs, effortlessly hauling you closer and spreading them wide.

"There's my good girl," he murmured, the raw timbre of his voice sending delicious frissons shivering across your fever-warm skin. "Such a sweet little angel when you finally submit."

With one more brief nip at the delicate flesh of your inner thigh, Gojo began working the fly of his trousers open, finally freeing his massive erection. He stroked and pumped his straining shaft a few times for good measure, eyes raking across your splayed, naked form with clear relish.

"Look at how pretty this tight little pussy is, dripping all over my fingers and cock just begging to get filled," he grunted, lining the bulbous crown against your quivering entrance and rubbing it back and forth through the sticky arousal saturating your folds.

A pitiful keen slipped past your parted lips at the taunting pressure, and you could feel a fresh gush of slickness welling up in response to his crass praise. Gojo smirked at the telltale reaction, one calloused palm sliding down to part the plush folds of your pussy even further.

"Goddamn, look how wet and greedy this is for me," he rumbled in a low tone thick with pure male satisfaction. "Bet you were fantasizing about having Daddy's cock stuffing this pretty cunt the whole time we were sitting there in that restaurant. Isn't that right, kitten?"

Your brain was barely capable of stringing together a coherent thought, much less a snarky comeback, but somehow the words slipped free despite the mindless delirium clouding your head. "Y-you were the one who wouldn't stop teasing," you moaned, squirming fitfully against the delicious pressure poised at your molten core. "Can't say I wasn't tempted to drag you into the bathroom and suck you off..."

The words dissolved into a keening cry as Gojo abruptly slammed into the hilt, filling you to the brim and beyond in one brutal, unyielding stroke. Your legs reflexively locked around his hips and lower back as he immediately began pounding into your clenching walls, each powerful thrust punching the breath from your lungs.

"Is that so, sweetheart?" Gojo gritted out, hissing through clenched teeth as the clutching vice of your inner walls seemed to squeeze the very life from his engorged shaft. "You were just planning on being a dirty little tease the whole time we were at dinner? What a fucking minx..."

Gojo punctuated the statement by angling your hips upward to drill even deeper, each merciless thrust nudging the sensitive spot at the very end of your channel until the pressure sent stars exploding behind your eyelids. The only sounds that could emerge were a series of broken mewls and wordless whines, utterly incapable of doing anything but lay there and take the exquisite torment of his unrelenting, devastating pace.

"Yeah, that's it, let me feel just how desperately you've been needing this," he snarled, large hands gripping your waist as his pelvis hammered a merciless rhythm against your overstimulated sex. "Soak this fucking cock like a good little kitten. Don't hold back on me, baby. Show me how much you missed Daddy's cock and I might let you cum."

You could barely process the filth spilling free from his mouth at this point, each syllable dissolving into an electric buzz as his ruthless assault stoked the pressure mounting inside you. It was a familiar, heady rush of sensation—a coiling tension that seemed to grow tighter and more unbearable with every punishing roll of Gojo's hips against yours.

He was driving you toward a cliff's edge without pause or quarter, and the sheer force of his intensity was dizzying. Yet, despite the frantic, almost savage cadence, you could feel the subtle shift in his grip and angle as Gojo's gaze bored into your face. Even in the midst of his own delirium, the sheer focus and attentiveness in his stare was intoxicating.

"F-fuck, I'm so close," you gasped out, feeling your core spasming and clutching against the rigid pistoning length impaling you. You feebly reached out, desperate for any kind of anchor amidst the relentless tidal wave of sensation threatening to pull you under. "Satoru...please, want you to kiss me again."

Without missing a beat, Gojo's hands shifted, scooping you up until you were practically cradled in his lap. Your legs reflexively locked around his hips and midsection, ankles hooking together as his thrusts never paused. The new position left your torso arching up toward his chest, and Gojo quickly took advantage, slanting his mouth over yours with renewed hunger.

Each slide and curl of his tongue seemed perfectly in time with the driving roll of his hips, and the added closeness was swiftly becoming too much. You were hurtling toward the edge of the abyss, and this time, Gojo seemed intent on taking you down with him.

"My perfect girl, taking my cock like such a good little slut," he gritted out, one hand tangling in your hair while the other braced your back, keeping your bodies fused together. "Been dreaming about this tight cunt for fucking days, and it's even better than I remember. Now be a good kitten and soak Daddy's cock for me."

You could feel yourself tumbling over the precipice even before Gojo's hand snaked down to thumb your clit, and the dual assault was all it took to send you reeling into blinding euphoria. Your climax hit like a freight train, ripping through you with an almost painful intensity that left your toes curling and vision blurring.

Gojo continued thrusting his full length in a rapid-fire tempo, hissing out a strangled groan as the spasms of your inner walls finally dragged him into the depths of oblivion alongside you. Your limbs felt like jelly, and you were grateful for his grip holding you steady as the waves of rapture subsided.

He didn't release you, though, not right away. Rather, Gojo simply held you in his arms, his cheek pressed to the side of your head and the slow rise and fall of his chest syncing with yours. The two of you remained silent for a long moment, simply breathing together as the room gradually stopped spinning around you.

Eventually, Gojo pulled back enough to cup your jaw and slant his mouth over yours in another gentle, exploratory kiss. It was nothing like the devouring claims and searing conquests that had preceded it, and the tenderness in the simple press of lips left you feeling utterly weightless.

When Gojo finally withdrew, the smirk curling his lips was positively self-satisfied. "I'd say that’s enough foreplay, wouldn't you, baby?"

You could only huff a soft laugh in response, shaking your head as the residual tremors of bliss faded. "You consider thatforeplay?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, was I too gentle?" he retorted, feigning a look of innocent confusion. "Maybe we should try round two, then. I'll give you a chance to demonstrate what you meant about sucking me off."

The words emerged in a low, silky murmur as his large hands gripped and squeezed the supple curves of your ass, eliciting a soft squeal from you. You smacked at his broad chest ineffectually, unable to fight the grin tugging at your own mouth.

"You're incorrigible."

"That's not a no," Gojo pointed out, his smug expression practically radiating his unrepentant satisfaction. "And if you keep acting all cute and sassy, I can't promise I'll be able to resist the urge to bend you over and remind you exactly who's in charge."

Your stomach fluttered at the casual, nonchalant admission. It was an undeniable thrill knowing just how badly Gojo craved this—craved you. The thought alone was enough to send a fresh wave of warmth flooding through your veins.

"Maybe I'm not opposed to the idea," you murmured, biting down on your lower lip as you glanced up through your lashes.

The look was clearly too much for Gojo's self-control. His eyes darkened with fresh desire, and his grip shifted to lift and turn you so that you were sprawled facedown across the rumpled cushions.

"Well, in that case," he growled, the heat and weight of his body blanketing yours as his hips pressed flush to the swell of your backside. "Let's see just how filthy this mouth is, shall we?"

The room seemed to exist in its own hushed, velvety cocoon of tranquility - a stark contrast to the ferocious passion that had consumed every inch mere moments ago. You lay draped languidly across Gojo's powerful frame with your cheek pillowed on the rises and valleys of his chest. The steady thrum of his heartbeat reverberated through your lashes in a soothing cadence.

One of your hands traced idle, featherlight patterns over the expanse of his toned abdomen - mapping the ridges and grooves so recently sheened and flexing under your ardent worshiping. Gojo remained equally at peace beneath your sprawled embrace, those brilliant azure irises at half-mast while he reclined with one arm crooked behind his head.

Despite the palpable aura of repletion surrounding you both, a new undercurrent began to gradually assert itself in the weighted stillness. You felt compelled to disturb the quietude to address what this entire evening had truly culminated towards - the deal quietly brokered between heated sheets and joined bodies.

"I'll contact the elders first thing," you murmured, the words seeming to slip free before your mind fully grasped their implication. "About postponing Itadori Yuji's case, like you wanted."

Gojo's chest expanded minutely on a slow inhale, but otherwise his statuesque form remained comfortably inert as your words hung in the air between you. After several beats, you felt the subtle weight of his stare alighting on your upturned features.

"Yeah?" His resonant timbre emerged in a low, stripped rasp - sounding as thoroughly unraveled as the rest of his carefully compartmentalized composure. "They'll actually listen to your stance on something so high-stakes?"

You allowed your own eyes to slip shut in a protracted blink, thoughts rapidly trying to align and process how to even begin verbalizing the sheer revelations that had bloomed open tonight about your place within the jujutsu hierarchy.

"I didn't fully grasp it at first," you admitted, voice coming out slightly roughened from earlier exertions. "But now I'm starting to understand the actual leverage my positioning and reputation has afforded without me even noticing."

Rather than respond directly, the only sound came from a protracted exhalation through Gojo's nose - seeming to signal his grasp of the situation finally mapping out as well. You hoped he also understood just how monumental a gambit he'd set into motion by hammering the truth home in his uniquely heated approach tonight. Not to induce guilt, per se...but perhaps a smidgeon more humility about the harrowing stakes being juggled.

As if sensing the direction of your thoughts, Gojo abruptly shifted his weight until you were rolled over onto your back - his solid bulk carefully blanketing yours without pressure. When your gazes met and locked, you felt that simmering connection arc back into incandescence once more between your joined frames.

"You continue underestimating yourself," he murmured in a timbre now rendered warm gravel thanks to its gravelly softness. He cupped the side of your jaw, thumb tracing the bow of your lips in a barely-there caress that spoke to so much more than surface motions. "Which is exactly why I'm never going to stop knocking some sense into that stubborn head of yours..."

With that throaty declaration, Gojo dipped his chiseled features lower until your foreheads brushed - noses scanting along one another in an electrifying gossamer graze. The intimacy of the motion seemed to steal your very breath straight from your lungs as he carried on in a husked rasp.

"So thank you. For listening to reason and actually wielding your power for once when it really mattered..."

Unable to resist the unspoken pull between your joined gravities any longer, you surged up to seal Gojo's mouth in a slow, simmering clash of satin flesh and indulgent possession. All the unvoiced sentiments and roiling tides of turbulence hovered for a suspended eternity within that singular nexus point before gradually dispersing into peaceful becalm once more.

Eventually Gojo broke away with the barest hint of a crooked smile tugging at those stupidly perfect lips, clearly satisfied with your acquiescence for the time being. The two of you simply basked in silence for a while longer, relishing in this well-earned moment of bonded lassitude.

That is, until the first stirrings of Gojo's impish irreverence inevitably bubbled back up in the form of his rich baritone laced with none-too-subtle swagger:

"So...I take it this means I get to thoroughly ruin you again before breakfast? No more insufferable teasing about you not putting out until your higher-up buddies get their precious signatures?"

You scoffed out a long-suffering sound of semi-amused exasperation, already anticipating the thick cloud of smug virility about to descend. Sure enough, Gojo's chest puffed with unrepentant satisfaction as he slung one heavy arm around your waist and lightly squeezed.

"That's what I thought. Face it kitten, that pretty pussy has officially been drafted into service under my uncompromising authority until further notice..."

He punctuated the lewd declaration by slanting his mouth over yours in a deliriously thorough deluge of hunger and virility, effectively stealing your very breath for a second rapturous cycle before exhaustion could dare creep back in.

And as your joined frames spiraled back into the delirious vortex of blissful dissipation once more, you couldn't help hazarding one last, bemused thought: somehow, you got the distinct impression Gojo would be exercising his latest "authority" over you with particularly unrestrained enthusiasm this time around.

[biblicallyaccuratemeat]

Cotton Candy

MDNI!!!

A/N: Happy Valentine's Day to my bby girl @ethanhoewke! Ily mwa <3 as always, beta read by @teaflavoredwitch. Bucky Barnes x female reader, established relationship, PORN, p in v sex, blow job, oral fixation, finger sucking, biting, choking, unprotected sex, size kink, praise kink, hair pulling, lingerie, slow dancing, light dom/sub, gentle dom Bucky, sweet & fluffy, boyfriend Bucky, TFATWS Bucky

My 200 follower fic raffle is going on here!

Word count: 9.2k

“Hi Bucky,” You chirp sweetly as his front door swings open, “Happy Valentine’s Day.”

You looked up at Bucky, your eyes sparkling with excitement and nervous anticipation. The pink fabric of your dress swished around your thighs and hugged your body like it was made just for you. You tried your best to look perfect for your first Valentine’s Day with Bucky, hair done in that style you know he likes, minimal makeup only to accentuate your natural beauty. Bucky always had a way of making you feel like the prettiest woman in the world, even when you had food poisoning and he came over to take care of you. And tonight, you hoped it would be your first time sleeping with Bucky, so you felt the need to go the extra mile.

Bucky couldn't help but let his eyes roam appreciatively over your figure as he stood there, taking in every curve of your body draped in that soft, pretty pink dress. The color suited you perfectly, bringing a rosy glow to your cheeks and a sparkle to your eyes that made his heart do funny things in his chest. He had to remind himself to close his mouth, snapping it shut as he met your shy gaze. A slow, warm smile spread across his face, crinkling the corners of his eyes.

"Well, don't you look like a dream come true," he murmured, his deep voice soft and slightly rough, like velvet wrapped in sandpaper. He stepped closer, reaching out to take your hand, his calloused fingers brushing against your smooth skin as he brought it to his lips. He pressed a gentle kiss to your knuckles, his blue eyes never leaving yours. "Happy Valentine's Day, sweetheart."

He lingered for a moment, his lips still pressed against your hand, before he reluctantly let it go. The scent of your perfume, something sweet like vanilla, filled his nose and made him want to pull you closer. But he resisted, knowing he had to take this slow. He wanted tonight to be perfect for you.

Bucky stepped back, gesturing for you to come inside. As you crossed the threshold, he couldn't help but admire the sway of your hips, the way the fabric of your dress hugged your curves in all the right places. He swallowed hard, feeling a familiar heat pooling in his gut. But he pushed those thoughts aside, wanting to focus on making this a night you’d never forget.

Once inside, Bucky took your coat, hanging it up in the closet before turning back to you with a soft smile. The apartment was dimly lit, candles flickering on every surface, casting a warm glow over everything. Soft jazz music played softly in the background, the kind of music he knew you loved. He had even gone out of his way to dig his record player and collection of vintage vinyl records out of storage to set the mood.

But the real piece de resistance was the table set up in the living room. A white tablecloth draped over a small, round table, with two place settings, complete with fine china and crystal glassware. A bucket of ice chilled a bottle of champagne, while a single red rose tucked into a vase in the center of the table. The scent of Italian food wafted from the kitchen, the aroma of garlic and herbs filling the air.

Bucky watched as you took in the scene, your eyes widening in surprise and delight. He couldn't help but feel a sense of pride, knowing that he had done all of this for you. It may not have been much, but it was a start. A promise of so much more to come.

"I wanted tonight to be special," he explained softly, his hand coming up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing gently over your cheekbone. "I know we’ve only been dating for a little while but I really like you and I wanted to give you a reason to smile. To remind you that you deserve to be cherished and adored." He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered, "And I want to be the one to do that. I want to be the one to make you feel loved, babygirl."

His voice was low and rough with emotion, a raw honesty to his words that sent a shiver down your spine. He could feel the way your body responded to his touch, the way your breath hitched in your throat. It spurred him on, made him want to do so much more. He wanted to worship every inch of your body, to show you exactly what you meant to him.

But he knew he had to take this slow. Knew that he had to let you set the pace, to make sure you were ready for this step. So he pulled back slightly, his hand falling away from your cheek as he looked down at you with a soft, tender smile.

“What do you say we have dinner first, huh? Then maybe we can cuddle on the couch and watch a movie, see where the night takes us?" He smirked, a playful glint in his blue eyes as he held out his hand for you to take. "I promise I'll be on my best behavior. At least until after dessert." He winked, trying to keep the mood light and teasing, even as a heady promise lingered beneath his words.

He knew what he wanted tonight to end with. Knew that he wanted to make love to you, to show you the depths of his feelings and the commitment he was willing to make to you.

A huge smile spread across your lips, making your nose crinkle slightly. You brought a hand up to your chest, clasping it over your heart as if to contain the fluttery feeling growing there.

“Wow," You breathed out happily, "This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me, Bucky! I can't believe you did all of this for little old me." Your voice was filled with genuine awe and appreciation, a light blush blooming across your cheeks.

You did a slow turn, taking in every detail - the flickering candles casting a warm glow, the record player spinning a vinyl, the table set for romance with the finest china and crystal. The aroma of Italian cuisine teased your nose, making your stomach rumble softly. You felt like a princess in a fairy tale, and Bucky was your dashing prince. You turned back to face him, looking up at him, your eyes sparkling with unshed tears of joy.

"Bucky, this is...I don't even have words. It's like a dream come true," You murmured, reaching out to take his hand. Your fingers trembled slightly as they entwined with his much larger, calloused ones. You could feel the heat and strength of his touch, and it made your heart race in anticipation. And in that moment, standing there in his apartment, you had never looked more beautiful to him.

You leaned in closer, standing on your tiptoes to press a lingering kiss to Bucky's cheek, your lips soft and warm and tempting. When you pulled back, you smiled up at him shyly, a newfound confidence and hunger burning in your eyes. Bucky couldn't help but feel a surge of pride and satisfaction as he watched you take in the romantic scene he had so carefully crafted just for you. The way your eyes widened in awe and your cheeks flushed a soft, rosy hue was all the confirmation he needed to know that he had done something special. Something right.

When you turned to face him, your hand reaching out to take his, Bucky felt a jolt of electricity course through his body at your touch. Your fingers were so small and delicate in comparison to his calloused, work-roughened hand. He could have easily crushed them, but instead, he held them gently, reverently, as if they were the most precious thing in the world to him.

And in that moment, they were. You were.

Bucky listened as you spoke, your voice soft and filled with a genuine enthusiasm that made his heart swell in his chest. He had done this for you. He had gone above and beyond to make you feel cherished and special, and the fact that it had worked only served to encourage him further.

But then you leaned in, your lips brushing against his cheek in the softest of kisses. And Bucky felt like he had been struck by lightning. His skin tingled where your lips had touched, a warmth spreading through him that had nothing to do with the heat of the candles or the fireplace crackling in the corner.

He looked down at you, his blue eyes darkening with a hunger that was harder to ignore. The way you gazed up at him, your eyes filled with a myriad of emotions, made something aching and raw stir deep within him. In that moment, he knew with absolute certainty that you were his. That he would do anything, absolutely anything, to keep you by his side.

Bucky knew he should probably say something, should probably try to be charming and witty, to keep the mood light and playful. But all he could think about was the way your lips felt against his skin, and the way your body had felt pressed up against his. He wanted to touch you, to explore every curve and dip and hollow of your body until he had committed it all to memory.

Instead, he raised your hand to his lips, pressing another kiss to your knuckles that lingered perhaps a little too long. He could smell the scent of your perfume, it made his head swim with desire. It was a scent that he knew he would forever associate with you, with happiness and contentment and a feeling of coming home.

"I'm glad you like it, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice low and rough with emotion. "Because you deserve to be treated like a queen. You deserve to be worshipped and adored and cherished in every way possible."

He let your hand go reluctantly, but only so that he could wrap his arm around your waist and pull you flush against him. He could feel the warmth of your flesh, the soft give of your tummy, the flare of your hips. It made him want to groan out loud, to bury his face in the crook of your neck and just breathe you in.

But he didn't. Instead, he tucked a lock of your hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on the soft skin of your cheek. He traced the curve of your jaw, the line of your throat, the delicate arch of your eyebrow. He committed every detail to memory, knowing that he would need to draw on these memories in the dark, lonely nights when you were not by his side.

You glanced up at him with a playful smirk, eyes sparkling with mirth, you tilted your head to the side, "I must say, Sergeant Barnes, I'm really am amazed by all of this..." You hummed, gesturing around at the candlelit table and the romantic ambiance. "I didn't realize you had it in you to be such a hopeless romantic. So tell me, did you slave away all day in the kitchen to whip up this feast?" You teased, batting your long lashes at him flirtatiously.

Bucky chuckled softly, a deep, rich sound that rumbled in his chest and made your toes curl in your pretty shoes. He shook his head, his brown hair falling across his forehead in a way that made him look even more handsome if that was possible. At the same time, his hand slid from your cheek to the back of your neck, his fingers splaying across your skin and giving you a little squeeze, a gentle reminder of how strong he was.

"Nah, doll. I may be many things, but a gourmet chef ain't one of them," he said with a smirk and a wink. "I ordered from that fancy Italian place downtown. The one with the red and white checkered tablecloths and the old guy who keeps trying to sell you wine and take you on a date."

He leaned in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "But don't you worry, babygirl. I made sure to get one of everything on the menu. I wanted tonight to be perfect for you, so I pulled out all the stops." With that, he took your hand and led you towards the dining table. He pulled out your chair for you like the gentleman he was, waiting for you to take your seat before pushing it back in and leaning down to press a lingering kiss to the shell of your ear.

"I hope you're hungry, sweetheart. Because I plan on feeding you until you're stuffed. Then, if you're still hungry after that..." His voice dropped to a low, husky tone as he nipped lightly at your earlobe. "Well, I might have a few more ideas on how to satisfy your appetite."

He straightened up and walked around the table to take his own seat across from you. As he sat down, he grabbed the bottle of champagne from the ice bucket and popped the cork, the sound echoing loudly in the quiet of the apartment. He poured the bubbly liquid into your glass, the golden color catching the flickering light of the candles, before filling his own glass.

He raised his glass in your direction, a slow, roguish smile spreading across his handsome face. "To us, babygirl. To the start of something amazing."

He clinked his glass against yours, the sound ringing out like a promise, a vow. His blue eyes never left yours as he brought the glass to his lips and took a long, slow sip. He swallowed, his throat working with the motion, before setting the glass back down on the table. Then, he stood up and disappeared into the kitchen, leaving you alone with your thoughts and the soft strains of jazz music filling the air. 

A moment later, he returned with two plates piled high with food - pasta, pizza, calzones, garlic bread, the works. He set a plate down in front of you before taking his own seat, looking at you with a proud, almost smug smile. "There you go, doll. Eat up now. You're gonna need your energy for later." He winked, his voice a low, wicked promise as he reached for his fork and knife. "And don't worry, babygirl. I'll make sure you get dessert later...no matter what it takes."

He smirked, a dark glint in his blue eyes as he cut into the pasta, the fork and knife screeching against the fine china. Then, he brought the fork to his mouth and took a bite, his eyes never leaving yours as he chewed, savored, and swallowed. All the while, his gaze remained locked with yours, a silent conversation passing between you. A conversation of unspoken words and unspoken desires, of promises and expectations and a hunger that had nothing to do with the food in front of you.

You ate your food languidly, taking small, savoring bites. You closed your eyes, a soft moan escaping your lips as the rich, buttery flavors exploded on your tongue - the crispy garlic bread, the creamy risotto, the tangy red sauce. Each morsel was a taste of heaven, a sensual indulgence. You could feel the warmth of the champagne tingling in your chest, bubbling through your veins.

You took a sip of the bubbly liquid, relishing the crisp effervescence that danced on your tongue and slid down your throat with a satisfying smoothness. The alcohol buzzed lightly in your head, heightening your senses, making every touch and taste and sound feel amplified, “I’m surprised by all this. You’re so quiet and broody, I didn’t realize you were so suave, Sergeant Barnes,” You tease, emboldened by the alcohol coursing through your system.

Bucky threw back his head and laughed, a rich, heartfelt sound that filled the room and made your chest feel warm and fluttery. He shook his head, as he looked at you with a rueful smile. "Quiet and broody, huh?" he said, arching one dark eyebrow. "I guess I can see how you might think that, doll. I ain't exactly known for my silver tongue and charm."

He reached across the table to take your hand, his calloused fingers brushing against your soft skin and sending a shiver running up your arm. He brought your hand to his lips, his eyes never leaving yours as he pressed a lingering kiss to your knuckles. "But for you, sweetheart, I'm willing to learn. I'm willing to do whatever it takes to make you feel special. To make you feel cherished and worshipped and like the angel you are."

He turned your hand over in his, his thumb tracing the lines of your palm in a way that made your breath catch in your throat. His touch was firm and sure, the touch of a soldier who knew exactly what he wanted and how to get it. "I never realized that a romantic gesture could feel so good," he murmured, his voice a low, intimate rumble that sounded like it was meant only for your ears. "But with you, it's different. Everything feels different. It's like I'm seeing the world through a whole new set of eyes."

He lifted your hand to his cheek, holding it against the stubble that darkened his jawline. He closed his eyes for a moment, just breathing you in, your scent and your warmth and the feeling of your skin against his. "And maybe it's too soon to say this, but fuck, doll...I think I'm falling in love with you. I think I'm falling in love with everything about you, from the way your mind works to the way your body moves to the way your fucking soul shines out of your eyes."

He opened his eyes to look at you, his gaze intense and burning with a fierceness that made your heart race and your toes curl. There was a vulnerability in his expression that you hadn't seen before, a raw and naked emotion that made you want to reach out and pull him close and never let him go. But instead, you just looked at him, your own eyes shining with unshed tears of happiness and gratitude. Your heart felt so full that you thought it might burst, so stuffed with affection and adoration and a feeling of belonging that you never wanted to let go. Bucky must have seen the way your eyes glistened with emotion, because he smiled softly and brushed his thumb across your cheek, catching a stray tear before it could fall.

"Hey, sweetheart...no crying now," he said, his voice low and gentle and filled with care. "Tonight's supposed to be a happy occasion, yeah? So why don't you give me that pretty smile of yours, and let me take care of everything else?"

You gazed up at Bucky with tear-filled eyes, your pouty lips curled into a radiant, trembling smile. You licked your lips nervously, tasting the salt of your tears and the sweetness of the champagne on your tongue. Your voice was a breathy, delighted whisper as you spoke, "Oh, Bucky...I thought it was just me. I never dreamed you felt the same way. But hearing you say it..." A single tear slipped down your soft, flushed cheek, glistening in the candlelight. "I'm falling for you too. Hard. So hard it scares me sometimes."

You reached up with a shaking hand to cup Bucky's stubbled cheek, your fingers trembling slightly as you traced his strong jawline. Your heart raced in your chest, pounding against your ribs like a drumbeat of desire and anticipation. "I'm not usually one for grand gestures or fancy words, but this...you...it's everything. It's more than everything. It's like you see me in a way no one else ever has, like you understand every part of me, inside and out."

Your voice hitched on a sob, but you pressed on, unable to hold back the words any longer. "I want to give myself to you, all of myself. Body, heart, and soul. I want to be yours, completely and totally. Forever and always."

You leaned in closer, until your lips were a mere breath away from Bucky's. "So please, kiss me. Kiss me like you mean it, like you want to devour me whole. Kiss me like you'll never stop, because I don't think I can bear to live without your lips on mine for even a moment longer."

With that, you closed your eyes and parted your lips, a silent plea and a promise all in one. You were offering yourself to him, completely and wholly. 

Bucky's breath caught in his throat as he gazed down at you, his heart swelling with a fierce, all-consuming love that threatened to overwhelm him. He had felt many things in his long life - hunger, pain, rage, sorrow, guilt...but this feeling, this overwhelming tenderness and devotion, was something entirely new and terrifying in its intensity.

He saw the way your eyes shone with unshed tears, the way your bottom lip trembled with emotion and anticipation. He heard the breathy whisper of your voice, the hitch in your throat as you poured out your heart to him. And he knew, with a bone-deep certainty, that you were offering him everything. Everything you had, everything you were, everything you could ever hope to be.

And god, he wanted it. He wanted to take it all, to grab it with both hands and hold it close and never, ever let it go. He wanted to possess you, to claim you, to make you his in every way possible. But most of all, he wanted to cherish you. To worship you and adore you and love you with every fiber of his being, for as long as he lived and drew breath.

So when you leaned in, your lips parting in a silent plea, Bucky didn't hesitate. He closed the scant distance between you, his mouth coming down on yours in a kiss that was hungry and desperate and full of a need that bordered on rabid. He kissed you like a drowning man seeking air, his lips moving over yours with a fierce, almost bruising intensity. He nipped at your bottom lip, his teeth scraping against the tender flesh before soothing it with his tongue. He licked into your mouth, his tongue delving deep to taste the sweet champagne and the salt of your tears, the unique flavor that was purely, uniquely you.

His hand slid from your cheek to the back of your neck, his fingers threading through the soft curls of your hair. He gripped the strands tight, holding you in place as he angled your head to deepen the kiss, to plunder your mouth with a single-minded purpose. He kissed you until you were breathless, until your lungs burned for air and your head spun with the force of it. He kissed you until he felt your knees buckle, until he had to wrap his arm around your waist to keep you upright, to pull you flush against him.

And even then, he didn't stop. He couldn't stop. Because now that he had tasted paradise, now that he had held heaven in his arms...he knew he would never be able to let you go. He broke the kiss only when absolutely necessary, when the need for air became too great to ignore. As he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, his breath coming in harsh, ragged gasps that matched your own.

"Fuck, doll..." he rasped, his voice a low, guttural growl that sent shivers down your spine. "I never...I mean, I don't...I can't..."

He swallowed hard, his throat working with the effort of trying to find the right words. But there were no words, not for a feeling this big, this all-encompassing. So he just held you tighter, pulling you so close that you could feel the pounding of his heart against your own.

"I love you," he said finally, the words a vow and a promise and a statement of fact all rolled into one. "I fucking love you so much, babygirl. More than anything in this goddamn world."

He kissed you again then, softer this time, slower. A kiss full of tenderness and care and a quiet, steady devotion. A kiss that said 'I'm yours, forever and always, no matter what.'

You smile into the kiss, giggling breathlessly as you melt into Bucky's strong arms. After a moment, you feel him begin to sway, and realize he's leading you in a slow dance, moving in time to the soft jazz music playing on the record player. Pressing closer, you rest your head on his chest, listening to the steady thump of his heart. You can feel the warmth of his skin through his shirt, the firmness of his muscles, the cool metal ridge of his dog tags. It makes you feel so small and delicate, so protected and cherished.

As you dance, you let your fingers walk playfully up his chest, feeling the contours and dips. You tilt your head to look up at him, eyes sparkling with mischief and adoration. "You're such a sap, aren't you Sergeant Barnes?" You tease softly, a pretty blush coloring your cheeks. "I never would've guessed you had these kinds of moves."

Bucky just smirks and spins you out, before pulling you back in close, fitting your soft curves against his hard planes. "I got many moves, doll. Haven't even scratched the surface yet."

You shudder at the promise in his voice, a thrill running through you. Your breasts press against him as you slip your arms around his neck, fingers playing with his dark hair. As you sway, you can't help but feel like you’re living in a dream. Or maybe, a fairytale. It's hard to believe that a man like Bucky, so strong, so fierce, once so scary...could love you. But the way he holds you, touches you, kisses you...tells you he means it.

"Take me to bed, Bucky," You breathe against his neck, nipping at his ear. "Please...I need you." Your voice is soft, almost pleading. But there's a strength in it too. A sureness, a knowing. You know what you want. And you want him.

Bucky felt a shudder run through him at your breathy plea, your words igniting a fire in his blood that he couldn't ignore. He had been holding himself back, determined to make this night perfect for you, to show you the depth of his feelings and his commitment to you. But now, with the feel of your soft curves pressed so deliciously against him, your fingers playing in his hair and your lips brushing against his ear...fuck. He was done waiting.

In one swift, smooth motion, he swept you up into his arms, cradling you against his chest as he strode purposefully towards the bedroom. He kicked the door shut behind him, not wanting any interruptions, any distractions, as he laid you down gently on the plush comforter. He stood over you for a moment, his eyes drinking in the sight of you - your hair spreading out around your head like a halo, your cheeks flushed and your lips kiss-swollen, your chest heaving with anticipation. He had never seen anything more beautiful in his life.

Slowly, deliberately, he reached for the buttons of his shirt, popping them open one by one to reveal the expanse of his tanned, muscular chest. His vibranium arm gleamed in the low light, a testament to his past, but his other hand was soft and sure as it pushed the shirt off his shoulders and let it drop to the floor. His dog tags hung proudly from his neck, causing a small small smile to grace your lips. Bucky’s pants quickly join the pile of clothes on the floor, earning a blush from you. This is the most you’ve seen him undressed during your relationship and the sight goes straight to your cunt, gooey and slick and hot. He climbs onto the bed, covering your body with his own, the heat of his skin seeping into yours. He brushed your hair back from your face, his fingers tracing the delicate line of your jaw, the soft swell of your bottom lip.

"I want to take my time with you, babygirl," he murmured, his voice a low, intimate rumble that sent shivers down your spine. "I want to worship every inch of this gorgeous body of yours, to make you feel so, so good."

He dipped his head to press a line of hot, open-mouthed kisses down the column of your throat, his teeth grazing your pulse point and making you gasp. He paused for a moment, just looking at you in the candlelight, his eyes dark and hungry as they took in the sight of you beneath him in your dress. "Fuck, doll," he breathed, his voice rough with desire. "You're so goddamn beautiful. I can't believe you're really here, that you're really mine."

Bucky's breath caught in his throat as he slowly peeled your dress off your body, revealing the luscious curves that lay beneath. As the fabric slipped away, he beheld a vision that made his heart stutter and his cock jump to attention. You lay before him, clad in a sinful scrap of maroon lace and satin that clung to every generous curve. The teddy cupped and lifted your ample breasts, the delicate lace barely containing their full, rounded shape. Rosy nipples peaked prominently through the thin fabric, begging to be tasted and teased. His gaze drifted down the sweetheart neckline to your nipped-in waist and the flare of your hips. The lingerie hugged the swell of your ass, the lace disappearing between the tempting globes.

"Son of a bitch," he breathed, his voice a guttural rasp. "babygirl, that...fuck. You're a goddamn knockout."

He ran a calloused hand reverently over the swell of your breast, feeling the way your nipple pebbled at his touch. Hooking a finger under the lace, he slowly, torturously dragged it down, watching your skin flush and your chest heave with anticipation. His other hand traced the dip and curve of your waist, the flare of your hip, before gripping the generous flesh of your ass. He squeezed, relishing the way it yielded to his touch, before suddenly flipping you onto your stomach.

“Wait, wait,” You whisper, feeling far more bold than usual. Perhaps it’s the champagne, perhaps it’s the way Bucky makes you feel like the most precious thing in the world. You want to return the feeling tenfold, so you lick your lips and sit up slowly in the center of the mattress, “I…I want to do something for you. Switch spots with me, here, sit on the edge of the bed.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow at your sudden boldness, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. He had never seen this side of you before, this tantalizing glimmer of mischief and desire. It made his blood run hot and his cock twitch with anticipation. But he was nothing if not accommodating, especially to his beloved girl. So he sat back on his heels, watching you with a hungry, appreciative gaze as you sat up and patted the space in front of you. He moved to comply, shifting to sit on the edge of the bed, his naked chest on full display. The candlelight flickered over the hard planes and angles, casting shadows that danced across his skin. He looked like a god, all power and strength and raw, masculine beauty.

You settle between his powerful thighs, the heat of his skin seeping into yours as you kneel before him. Catching his gaze with your own, you press your cheek against the firm muscle of his thigh, feeling the strength that lies beneath. Your fingers dance along the metallic surface of his vibranium hand, tracing the cool, hard ridges and grooves.

You bring his metal fingers to your soft, spit-slick lips, brushing them back and forth until you reach his thumb. Maintaining eye contact,you part your lips and draw his thumb into the wet heat of your mouth, suckling gently at first before increasing the pressure. Your tongue swirls around the tip, teasing the cool metal as you hold his captivated gaze.

Your other hand slowly, teasingly runs up his muscular calf, nails lightly scraping over his skin. You can feel the coarseness of his leg hair beneath your fingertips, the strength of his leg muscles flexing slightly in response to your touch. Higher and higher your hand roams, not stopping until you reach the thick, heavy length of his cock. You wrap your fingers around it, feeling it throb against your palm, already hard and ready, all because of you.

Bucky's breath caught in his throat as your soft, warm lips closed around his thumb, your tongue swirling and teasing the cool vibranium. He had felt many things in his life, but the sensation of your mouth on his metal hand was unlike anything he had experienced before - electric, intense, and fucking incredible. He watched, mesmerized, as you slowly pumped his thick, hard cock with your small, delicate hand. The contrast of your soft, flushed skin against his own weathered, tanned flesh was erotic as hell, and it took every ounce of his self-control not to grab you, pin you down under him, and rail you into oblivion.

Instead, he gritted his teeth and fisted his hand in the bed sheets beneath him, fighting the urge to take control. He wanted to let you lead this, wanted to see what you would do, wanted to feel your passion and your hunger. But fuck if it wasn't the hardest thing he had ever done, holding himself back when every instinct screamed at him to take, to possess, to fucking ruin you with pleasure. He swallowed hard and forced himself to ask, his voice a low, strangled growl, "Is that how you want to use your mouth, babygirl? Because if you keep that up, I’m worried I won’t last long.”

Bucky shuddered as your soft, slick lips peppered playful kisses along each of his metal fingers, the sensation electric even through the material. He clenched his organic fist, knuckles white, as your attention turned to his aching cock. There was no warning, no hesitation, just the immediate heat of your eager mouth engulfing him.

"Ohhhh fuck," he groaned, head falling back as your lips wrapped around his thick girth and your tongue flicked out to tease the sensitive underside. His hips jerked reflexively, fighting the urge to thrust into the welcome warmth. Bucky squirmed as he felt your free hand roaming boldly over his muscular thigh, your blunt nails scraping deliciously across his skin. He flexed involuntarily, groaning low in his throat. But then your fingers found his cloth-covered balls and he nearly punched through the mattress as a bolt of pure lust shot through him. The contrast of your softness and his aching, swollen flesh was dizzying and he fisted a hand in your hair to anchor himself.

"It's...oh god, babygirl, your mouth feels...fuck...so damn good," he panted, iron will battling the instinct to grab your hair and fuck your face until he spilled down your throat. "If you keep that up, can't...Christ...can't promise I'll last."

Bucky’s reaction spurs you on, so you whine, batting your lashes in silent communication. You scoot forward, impossibly closer and take even more of his rigid length into your mouth, drool leaking out around it and dripping down your chin.

Bucky let out a low, feral growl as he felt your lips stretch around his thick, throbbing cock. The wet heat of your mouth was incredible, your tongue like velvet as it teased and stroked along the sensitive flesh. He could feel every flick, every swirl, every dip and curve of the velvety muscle as it explored his shaft. His grip tightened in your hair, his metal hand flexing and tensing as he fought the urge to take control, to fuck your pretty face until tears streamed down your cheeks and you choked and sputtered around his thick cock. He could feel the desperation building in his balls, the ache of impending release coiling hot and tight in his belly. Fuck, he had never been this turned on in his life, never felt a hunger this primal, this consuming. But goddamn if he wasn't determined to make this good for you too. Determined to worship your heavenly  body, to make you scream and shake and come undone all over his cock.

He tugged gently on your hair, urging you off his shaft with a hiss of regret. "Babygirl, wait..." he growled, voice strained and ragged. "I...fuck, I need to taste you too. Need to make you feel good, sweetheart."

He pulled you up his body, his bionic arm wrapping around your waist to crush you against his muscular chest. His mouth found yours in a searing kiss, his tongue plunging deep to claim your mouth, to fuck your face the way he ached to fuck your other holes. He kissed you until you were breathless and clinging to his broad shoulders, until your panties were soaked through and your cunt was clenching around nothing. Then he flipped you onto your back and settled his hard, muscular body between your softer, curvier one. He looked down at you with hot, hungry eyes that blazed with lust and adoration.

"Fuck, I need to be inside you," he rasped, his weight pressing down on you, pinning you to the mattress. "Need to feel this sweet little cunt squeezing my cock, baby. You ready for me, sweetheart?"

You bit your plump bottom lip shyly, peering up at him through long, curling lashes as you slowly, teasingly spread your plush thighs apart. Exposing yourself to his ravenous gaze, you arched your back slightly to present your glistening sex. Your blushing cheeks and nose scrunched up adorably as you fluttered your lashes. “I'm ready, Bucky,” you breathed, your voice a needy whisper. The scent of your arousal mingled with the lingering aroma of vanilla and champagne perfuming the air between you.

Your perky breasts heaved with each anticipating breath, the rosy nipples hardened into tight little peaks. Nuzzling your chin against his chest, you gazed up at him with hooded, desire-drunk eyes, your breathless plea unmistakable. “Please, Bucky... I need you. I'm all yours... every inch of me is yours to take.'"

Bucky shuddered as your legs fell open, revealing the glistening perfection of your bare cunt. The scent of your arousal and sight of you finally bare for him made his mouth water and his cock throb. He could see how wet you were, how ready and eager for him. Your puffy lips were slick and swollen, just begging to be spread open around his thick, hard flesh. He wanted to bury his face in your sweet little pussy, to lap up every drop of your slick until you were writhing and screaming his name. But more than that, he needed to be inside you. Needed to feel your velvet heat clamping down around him, needed to hear you moan and gasp as he stretched you open and filled you up. He reached down to grip your thighs, his fingers sinking into the soft, pliant flesh as he pushed them further apart, opening you even more to him. He could feel you trembling beneath his touch, could sense your anticipation and your need.

"Fuck, babygirl," he growled, his voice low and rough with desire. "You're so fucking perfect, sweetheart. So goddamn sexy spread out like this for me."

He notched the broad head of his cock against your entrance, feeling the slick, scorching heat of you kissing the tip of his cock. He rolled his hips, coating his tip in your juices, getting himself slick and ready.

"I'm gonna fuck this needy little cunt so good," he promised darkly. "Gonna make you scream and shake and come all over my big, thick cock. You want that, babygirl? Want me to split you open and fuck you raw?" He looked down at your cute, flushed face, at your big eyes clouded with lust and desire, and he knew he had never wanted anything more in his life. 

He drank in every inch of your exposed flesh, from your blushing cheeks and cute little nose to your heaving, perfect tits and the dusting of freckles across your cleavage. You looked like a goddamn wet dream come to life, a fucking goddess of lust and desire. And when you arched that back to present yourself to him, your pleading words tumbling from your kiss-swollen lips, he was done for. Completely, utterly done.

"Fuck, babygirl," he groaned, his voice rough and low and dripping with desire. "You're mine, all mine. Gonna make you feel so fucking good."

He reached down with his human hand to line himself up, the swollen head of his cock nudging against your slick, wet entrance. He teasingly rubbed himself from clit to hole, before slowly, inch by tortuous inch, he pushed forward. Your velvety walls stretched around him, hugging his thick shaft as he pressed deeper and deeper inside you. He had to grit his teeth and take it slow, fighting the urge to slam forward and bury himself to the hilt in one brutal thrust. But goddamn, the feeling of your tight, hot cunt enveloping him, squeezing him like a fucking vice, was indescribable. Incredible. Better than anything he had ever felt before.

“Shit, sweetheart," he grunted as he finally bottomed out, his heavy balls nestling against your ass. "So fucking tight. Gonna ruin this sweet little pussy, babygirl. Gonna fuck you so hard, so deep, you'll be feeling me for days."

You gasp brokenly, eyes rolling back as Bucky sinks to the hilt inside you. Your hands shoot up to grasp his biceps, nails digging into the flesh of his organic arm. "Jesus," you wheeze out, overwhelmed by the sensation of being impaled on his cock, "I've never felt so full in my life." Your hips squirm and roll instinctively, trying to adjust to his sheer size as you pant softly against his neck.

Bucky groaned deeply as he felt your fingers digging into his biceps, your petite body squirming and rolling beneath him as you familiarized yourself with his massive size. He could feel every flutter, every clench, every desperate little movement of your velvet walls as they struggled to accommodate his thick, aching cock. "Take your time, babygirl," he murmured, his voice a low, soothing rumble. "Take all the time you need. Gonna make this so good for you, sweetheart."

He brushed a strand of hair back from your face, tucking it gently behind your ear as he gazed down at you with a tender, almost reverent expression. He loved seeing you like this - dazed, drunk on lust, worshipping every inch of his cock with your tight, perfect pussy.

"Fuck, you look so beautiful like this, doll. Spread out beneath me, stuffed full of my dick. Knew you'd have a hot little cunt, but shit... never imagined it would feel this good." His thumb brushed across your trembling lower lip, his eyes darkening with hunger as he watched your breathless pants. He rolled his hips slowly, shallowly, letting you feel every thick inch of him as he ground against your sensitive walls. "Shit baby, your pussy is gripping me like a fucking fist. Gonna ruin this cute little cunt, doll. Gonna fucking wreck you."

Bucky raked his lips and tongue over your slender neck, leaving a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses and sharp little nips in their wake. He lavished attention on your delicate collarbone before dipping down to worship your heaving tits, his metal hand cupping the soft, plush mound reverently. He circled his thumb pads around your areolas, teasing the sensitive skin until they pebbled and strained against his touch. Then, with a low groan, he hauled one aching peak into his mouth, suckling greedily as his metal fingers plucked at the other. You whimpered and writhed beneath him, the rough drag of his teeth and tongue on your tender nipples sending jolts of electricity zinging straight to your dripping core. Your thighs clenched around his waist, sharp heels digging into the firm globes of his muscular ass.

Bucky could feel your velvet walls starting to relax, to soften and flutter around his throbbing shaft as you adjusted to his size. He rolled his hips, stroking along your inner walls, loving the slick glide of your juices coating his thick cock. Sliding a hand down to where you were connected, he ran a finger through your soaked folds, circling your swollen clit and feeling you tremble. "That's it, sweetheart," he murmured, voice a low, lust-rough rasp. "Gonna make this pussy feel so fucking good."

Bucky began to move, slowly at first, easing you into the thick, heavy thrusts of his hips. He watched your face as he fucked into you, memorizing every gasp, every whimper, every flash of pure pleasure that crossed your expressive features. His pace increased gradually, building to a steady, pounding rhythm. The obscene sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, mingling with the creaking of the bed and your breathless cries.

“Fuck, baby, your pussy feels incredible," he groaned, his eyes burning into yours. "So fucking tight, so fucking hot. Gonna - ungh - fuck, gonna fill this cunt up so good. Pump you full of my cum, sweetheart."

He hooked your knee over his elbow, opening you up, driving even deeper into your molten core. His metal hand gripped your hip, fingers digging into the plush flesh as he pounded into you, the force of his thrusts rocking you against the headboard. You giggled breathlessly as Bucky’s dog tags bounced and swayed in front of your face with each powerful thrust of his hips. The metallic clink-clink sound mingled with the erotic symphony of your lovemaking, spurring him on.

He reached down to grab the swinging tags, his fingers brushing against your lips. His grin widened and in one swift motion, he grabbed the tags in his teeth. The sight of him- all rugged and dominant with his dog tags clutched between white teeth and his piercing blue eyes drunk on lust as he fucked into you - made you clench hard around his pistoning shaft.

"Bucky!" You gasped, your back arching off the bed. "Oh my god, yes!" Your nails scrabbled at his back as you clung to him. Bucky snarled around the dog tags clenched in his teeth, the sound reverberating through his chest. The sight of you arching beneath him, your back bowed, your tits bouncing with each fierce thrust, your nails raking down his back, drove him absolutely wild. He released the tags, letting them fall against his chest as he crashed his mouth against yours in a bruising, demanding kiss. His tongue plundered your mouth, fucking your face with the same brutal rhythm he used to slam into your cunt.

"Fuck yeah, scream for me babygirl," he growled against your lips, his hips never faltering. "Wanna hear you, sweetheart. Let everyone know who this pussy belongs to."

His metal hand slid down to grip your ass, kneading the round cheek, pulling you harder against him. His other hand found your wrists, pinning them above your head as he loomed over you, a dark, dominant figure intent on claiming every inch of your body. He could feel your cunt starting to flutter around him, your juices dripping down his shaft, your walls squeezing him like a vice. He fucked you through it, his rhythm never stopping, never letting up, determined to make you come undone on his cock. His metal hand wrapped around your slender throat, applying just enough pressure to make you gasp and arch into him. At the same time, his human hand fisted in your hair, tugging your head back to expose the column of your neck to his greedy mouth.

Bucky wasted no time, his lips and teeth and tongue attacking the smooth expanse of your skin. He sucked dark marks into your flesh, surely he would leave a collar of love bites around your throat. His teeth sank into the soft spot where your neck met your shoulder, marking you, claiming you.

"Fuck, come for me babygirl," he growled against your skin, his hips slamming into yours with brutal force. "I can feel this cunt getting tight, sweetheart. Gonna fucking drench my cock, aren’t you? Fuck, I'm gonna pump you so full of my cum. Breed this sweet little pussy, babygirl."

His metal fingers flexed around your throat as his human hand gripped your hair tighter. He could feel your body tensing, your legs starting to shake, your breaths coming in short, sharp gasps. He knew you were close, could feel your release approaching like a freight train.

You whimper and squirm, trembling and arching wantonly into Bucky as pleasure crashes through you like a tidal wave. Your eyes roll back, fluttering shut as ecstasy consumes you, your velvet walls clenching rhythmically around his throbbing shaft. You’re drowning in sensation, lost to the intense, pulsing bliss radiating from where you’re joined.

"That's it, fuck, yes! Take it, babygirl! Take my fucking load!" he groaned, slamming into you one, two, three more times before burying himself to the hilt. His cock jerked and pulsed as he came hard, painting your fluttering walls with thick ropes of his hot seed. He collapsed against you, hips still twitching, metal hand still wrapped loosely around your throat, as he filled you with spurt after spurt of his cum. He could feel it leaking out around his shaft, dripping down to soak into the sheets beneath you.

"Fuck sweetheart," he panted, nuzzling into your neck, placing soft kisses along your jawline. "That was - ungh - goddamn, babygirl. You okay?" He pulled back to look at you, his blue eyes filled with concern and satisfaction, his expression softening as he took in your dazed, blissed-out face.

“Hah, I think you killed me," you breathed out in a giggle, your voice hoarse from moaning. Your eyes fluttered open, hazy and unfocused as you gazed up at Bucky. You could barely think straight, your mind still hazy from the intense fucking you just received. You nuzzled into his neck, breathing in the musky scent of his skin mixed with the sweet aroma of your arousal. Between your thighs, his seed was leaking out, dripping onto the damp sheets below. You could feel it, warm and sticky and plentiful, a testament to Bucky's virility and stamina thanks to the serum. You knew you’d be feeling this for days, your pussy sore but so wonderfully satisfied.

Bucky chuckled low in his throat, the sound rumbling through his chest and vibrating against your body. He brushed your hair back from your face, tucking it behind your ear gently. His calloused fingers trailed down your cheek, tracing the delicate line of your jaw, the curve of your lips. “Did I though, doll? Killed you with pleasure? I'd say I brought you to life instead," he murmured, a smug smirk on his handsome face. "Shit babygirl, you look so fucking beautiful right now. Sated, fucked out, dripping with my cum. I've never seen a more perfect sight."

He rolled his hips slowly, his semi-hard cock stirring the mess inside your sensitive pussy. A low groan escaped him at the sensation, his eyes squeezing shut for a moment before opening to gaze at you with heated intensity. "Feel that, sweetheart? Feel all that cum sloshing around in this greedy little cunt? Fuck, I pumped you so full, babygirl. Knew this pussy would milk me dry the second I sank into it."

Bucky's hand slid down to your chest, cupping the soft swell of your breast. He brushed his thumb over your nipple, feeling it pebble at his touch. He leaned down to capture your lips in a slow, deep kiss, pouring all his desire and satisfaction into it. "Such a good girl, taking my cock so well. Gonna keep this pussy full, baby. Gonna fuck you so full of my seed, you'll be dripping with it for days. Everyone will know this cunt belongs to me, sweetheart." His smile turned wicked, promising all sorts of indulgent, pleasurable debauchery in the near future.

You gazed up at Bucky with hazy, lovestruck eyes, your lips curled into a dreamy, satisfied smile. You tangled slender fingers in his dark hair, giving a gentle tug as you turned your face to nuzzle into the crook of his neck, breathing in the addictive scent of your coupling mixed with his natural, rugged aroma.

"Mmm, Happy Valentine's day, Sergeant Barnes," you murmured softly, your voice a husky rasp from the enthusiastic screaming match you had indulged in mere moments prior. "I love...I love you." You punctuated the heartfelt confession with a tender, lingering kiss pressed to his chiseled jawline, your eyes fluttering shut as you savored the closeness and intimacy of the moment.

Bucky went still for a long moment as your softly spoken words washed over him, the tender kiss you placed on his jaw sending a shiver down his spine. He knew he hadn't misheard you, could feel the sincerity radiating off you in waves. But still, he needed to be sure, needed to hear you say it again when he could see the truth shining clear in your eyes. Slowly, almost hesitantly, he pulled back to look at you. His piercing blue eyes searched yours, seeing the love and affection swimming in their depths. Then he smiled, soft and sweet, breathtaking in its gentle sincerity. He cupped your face in his large hands, calloused thumbs brushing away the last of your tears. He leaned in closer, his forehead coming to rest against yours, so close he could feel your breath mingling with his own.

Then, in a low, gravelly murmur, he said, "You love me, sweetheart? You sure about that? Cause I love you too, babygirl. So fuckin' much it scares me sometimes. Thought I couldn't love anyone after...after everything. But you? You make me feel alive again. Make me believe in happy endings."

Bucky sealed his confession with a slow, deep kiss, pouring every ounce of love and tenderness he had into it. He kissed you like you were the most precious thing in the world to him...because you were. When he finally pulled back, there was a new light in his eyes. A soft, warm glow that had nothing to do with lust or desire...and everything to do with love.

[blue-jisungs]

hi!!!!! congrats on 8k!!! u deserve it so much ur writing is so amazing<3 for the little ask game, although it's not a word in your list, i thought about cats + piwon's jongseob!! i love cats, he loves cats and i love him so it's a Great combination in my opinion eheh if u dont wanna write w that word it's okay! and i choose glasses from ur list instead :3 thank u so much and i hope ur exams go well!!!!

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ THIS CAT LIKES HEAD SCRATCHES ! 🧸ྀི — you discover that your boyfriend resembles a cat … wbk though :3 ( wc 957 )

[ extras ] coffee mention + i decided to mention the glasses prompt and i had those ones in mind hehe 🙏 he just looked so cute wtf:(

ੈ✩‧₊˚ note ! AHHHH TYSM I REALLY APPRECIATE IT!!!!! thank u for the req bc it was really fun to write and i believe it’s my first seobi work too 🥹 i hope you enjoy it hehe <3 and my exams went well!!! tysm hehe <3 i still have one more to take but !! its gonna be okay i believe 🙏

@kstrucknet = ^-^ =

the wind is gentle against your face when you leave the coffee shop, and you wrap your scarf a little tighter around your neck. jongseob pulls you aside, not to block the entrance, and dives into his bag to look for headphones. you hold his drink and take a small sip. 

the vanilla flavor explodes on your tongue and you just grin, taking another sip of the sweet beverage. maybe he won’t notice–

“it’s a bit too sweet, to be honest. do you want to finish it?” he asks and you realize he’s been watching you, gaze amused from behind his glasses. the red oval frames cutely frame his face, almost distracting from the fact that you just got caught. 

“no, you can have it” you sigh and trade. he hands you one earphone, you give him the drink back. (it wasn’t too sweet, really. jongseob just said that so you could finish it without feeling guilty). you accept the earphone and put it in your left ear, grabbing his hand. 

“do you want to watch something once we get back?” he asks softly before putting on one of his rap playlists. you pucker your lips in thought and miss the way he smiles fondly at the sight.

“maybe… i still have to finish that one kdrama my friend recommended but i don’t really feel like it’ you say and start your journey back to the dorm. 

the music isn’t playing too loud - despite the energetic tune and some… unusual lyrics, it serves as a background to your conversation. jongseob intertwines fingers with yours, seeking a little more warmth on the chilly day. 

“maybe we can rewatch the maze runner…?” he offers and you just scoff. your boyfriend takes another sip of his vanilla cappuccino and hides a smile behind the cup. 

“again?” you laugh at the ridiculosity. “i’d rather watch… oh, i know! i know!” 

jongseob halts, the impact almost making you trip. 

“let’s watch old harmony adventure eps! please, please, please…! they are so funny… well, you are but…” you stop and trace where his gaze is. 

a cat. 

“wait, i want to take a picture” he hums and looks for his phone. the moment it’s in his hand, it almost gets yanked from the impact of you kneeling down. and the plugged earphone– 

jongseob manages to catch it and lets out a sigh of relief, your earphone dangling in the air. he started taking pictures of the brown colored feline hiding in the bushes. 

“how did you even notice it?” you ask, gently tapping your nails against the concrete to lure the cat.

“i just have a cat radar” he smirks and squats next to you, joining in your scheme. 

the cat’s big green eyes track your movements. jongseob looks around and notices a bin. 

“i’m just gonna finish it and throw it out” he says and drinks the coffee, doing as he said. 

meanwhile you successfully lure the cat, the feline approaching you carefully. it sniffs your hand, soft nose poking your skin. jongseob observes with a proud smile. 

the cat plops on its back, showing its white belly to you. 

with a loud whine, you start to pat its belly.

“seob, oh my god!” you mumble, pout forming on your lips. the fur is soft beneath your palm and your boyfriend joins you again, his hand petting the cat’s head. 

“do you think we can steal it?” he asks, hopeful sparkle in his eye. 

you bite your lip, looking at him. 

“i’m really gullible, you should stop making offers like that” you laugh and he just snickers, hand moving to pat its belly too. your fingers occasionally bump into each other, the cat’s loud purring making you chuckle. 

“no, really, what’s stopping us…?” your boyfriend mumbles to himself, adoring the pet’s happy face. 

“jongseob!” you whine, moving to scratch the cat’s chin. it stretches a bit, throwing its head back to give you better access to its chin and neck. “just like you…”

“i don’t purr” he grunts “and i am not a cat”

“mhm…” you decide to ignore his meows of protest “also, i think this cat isn’t a stray. it’s a little too friendly. and it’s cute underbelly tells me its being fed good at home”

“eh, you’re right” jongseob grunts and pats the white belly for the last time “let’s keep going then. before it’s too late”

“too late for what?” you ask, tilting your head. he just opens his bag widely, pretending as if he’s going to swoop the cat in. 

the street fills with your laughters and the cat stands up, startled. jongseob helps you stand up and dusts off your knees while you wave at the cat. 

“bye, kitty” you hum and grab your boyfriend’s hand again. and as you try to persuade him into watching harmony adventure, he keeps wondering when did you manage to change the playlist. 

once back at home, happily watching the content you wanted, jongseob is laying on your lap. his red glasses messily thrown on the nightstand, face buried in the warmth of the duvet covering your legs. 

you sneak your hand into his hair, massaging his scalp gently. one second he’s laughing at a joke he made, the other he’s groaning softly. 

“that feels nice…” he mewls, nuzzling his head. 

“yeah?” you ask with a grin. his limbs stretch a little and jongseob lets out a sigh of relief.

“m’yeah. keep doing that, please… oh, oh, here” he purrs in delight.

“not a cat, you say” you whisper quietly, not wanting him to hear. he doesn’t, luckily - and you decide to tease him about it later. something along the lines of ‘who needs a cat when i have you’.

masterlist <3

taglist. @primoppang ,, @laylasbunbunny ,, @slytherinshua ,, @planetkiimchi ,, @weird-bookworm ,,

@mon2sunjinsuver ,, @litepowee ,, @l3visbby