#but now I can get stuck anywhere and I Hate It!

[foldingfittedsheets]

My mom longs for traditions but lacks the wherewithal to actually develop any. Growing up she’d always try to make some new Christmas gimmick that we could do each year. They never stuck. She’d forget, or we wouldn’t want to continue and she’d give up.

One year she had us sew our own stockings. This wasn’t a huge hit as I was requested to sew immediately upon waking, a skill I largely lack. My brother hated his inadequacy as I don’t think he’d gotten even the cursory education I had with a needle and thread. I think mom thought we’d make new ones each year and they’d be like a fun memento. Our dissatisfaction with the whole thing meant we skipped it the next year and I’ve been using the same janky stocking that I sewed half asleep ever since.

For two years she tried to do holiday cookie decorating but my dad griped about all the sugar in the house while gorging on cookies and the tradition faded away.

For a few years she remembered to always put a geode in the stocking that we could break open with a hammer. It was fun at first, but I had to eventually ask her to stop because I didn’t have anywhere to keep a million geodes.

We went to movies some years but trying to find a film we all wanted to see proved troublesome enough that it fizzled out.

This last holiday she just announced they’d be leaving for December and didn’t do anything with family at all.

She pines for familial connection while having little idea of how to maintain relationships. It’s more important for her to have a smiling picture as a memory than to actually be happy. She wants a picture perfect family that gets along and is constantly disappointed by what she has instead.

One of her favorite photos is the last camping trip we went on as a family, me and my siblings with their kids. She croons about how nice it was to have us all together and I don’t say that all I remember from the trip is learning my brother was a drug addict and seeing my sister hit my nephew across the face.

I reached out recently to suggest that since we’ve all got bikes now and my parents are both officially retired we can do a weekly bike ride. This was met with delight and excitement.

We had our first ride today and it was genuinely pretty fun. We’ll see if it can last a month.

[loregoddess]

starting to suspect work may be a bigger source of stress than I realized ~~

[be-good-to-bugs]

i wanna believe my life will be ok one day

[velvrei]

can you please do like enemies to lovers that ends in smut with logan???? the face riding one you posted was SO GOOD. 

a/n at the end

tell me more

pairing: logan howlett x reader

summary: you and logan HATE each other. you are stuck in the void for a few days, and when you get out, it’s too late to go anywhere so you stay at wade’s place with logan. in the spare bedroom. with one bed.

word count: 8k

warnings: smut, rough sex, enemies to lovers, unprotected sex, degradation, switch!logan, mentions of blood and death, dance fighting, wade & his sexual comments

a/n: beware this is not proofread i’m too lazy

nsfw below the cut!

you disliked logan from the moment you met him. the two of you met through wade, your best friend and partner.

meanwhile, wade had a new best friend and partner in logan howlett. normally, jealousy would arise in such a circumstance, but it only created mini-competitions between the two of you.

the three of you were in the void. you were sitting in a chair, painting your toe-nails as you watched logan and wade fight to get their anger out.

you giggled as logan stabbed wade repeatedly with his claws, just sitting back and watching the show.

as you added your clear coat, it went almost completely silent and you looked up to see logan laying on wade, both of them with multiple wounds and covered in blood.

“you guys done yet?”

both boys groaned, making you grin as you fanned your newly painted toes and returned the nail polish to your bag.

a few minutes later, both guys were awake and walking towards you. you three needed a somewhere to stay, and you knew exactly where.

"i know where we can stay. this isn't my first time in the void, and there's a house where some hero's hide from cassandra. we can go there." wade listens to your words while logan just scoffs and rolls his eyes.

"and why are we listening to you?" logan's sassy remark made you roll your eyes.

"because i've been in the void before you dumb fuck. don't question me."

"what did you just call me?" logan growled, stepping toward you as you remained unbothered in your lawn chair.

"you heard me." your tone was sharp and sassy.

wade rolled his eyes before stepping in front of logan, stopping from getting any closer to you.

"guys. knock it off. we're gonna follow her, because she's been here before. got it, dog boy?" wade's nickname made you snicker, another nickname added to your dictionary.

“yeah dog boy.” you add on, earning a glare from wade.

“shut the fuck up, woman.” logan spat, his tone was bitter, and his eyes searched you up and down.

“you wish i would.” you spat right back, scoffing as you looking at your nails on your hand, acting completely unbothered by logan’s insults.

wade grabbed you out of the chair, and grabbed logan’s arm, practically dragging you both before shoving you forward.

before the three of you could even take another step, you saw a hidden figure standing on higher ground. he wore a hood over his head, and as he spoke, and revealed himself, it was johnny storm.

“there’s no time. they’re already almost here.” he points to the distance, physically pointing out the fact that cassandra’s army were already on their way to get you.

you swore under your breath as johnny jumped down, joining the three of you, it was now four against like, 100, and you knew you had no other way out of this but to face cassandra head on.

they all approached you fast, and quickly surrounded you. a man, with long hair and brown teeth, began to speak.

“ooo, she’s gonna love what i have for her.”

wade scoffed. “who is she, exactly?”

you smacked his shoulder earning a pathetic wince, causing logan to roll his eyes by the two of you.

the man ignored wade’s question, and before they even had a chance to fight, each of you were sucked by a magnet, and knocked unconscious.

when you woke up, you tried to move your body but it was restrained, looking up and seeing that you were tightly tied against logan. great.

you were in a moving ball, practically like a wired hamster house. your body was tightly maneuvered against his, breasts pressing against his chest, sighing in defeat as logan watched you struggle. “there’s no getting out of this.” his dark, husky voice made you look up, hating the fact that you couldn’t look anywhere but his eyes.

“i know where we’re going. i’ve been here before.”

johnny raised an eyebrow at that as he was tied up next to you, against wade. “you have? no one has ever escaped cassandra alive?”

you sighed. “well i have.”

logan rolled his eyes, hating that the attention was on you. “well aren’t you just the greatest. you escaped a bald bitch, boo fucking who.”

logan’s comment caused your knee to come up in between his legs and hit him in the dick, watching his face contort into pain, making you giggle.

after what felt like the longest ride ever, you arrived to cassandra’s lair, watching as she stepped out and observed the small group.

she untied everyone eventually, examining each person. when she walked up to you, she put her hands behind her back, giving you a smile.

“miss princess. lovely seeing you here again. you’ve escaped me once and it will take a lot for that to happen again.” her words made you swallow, a little frightened but not letting it show, so you held your ground against her.

“you don’t have to worry cass, it’ll happen again. i’m sure of it.” her eyes brighten at the nickname, giggling as she walked over to johnny storm.

it didn’t take long for her to release you as alioth slowly lowers from the sky, hungry for his next meal.

you quickly run over to a weird jet pack thing, watching as both boys follow you, johnny staying behind.

the three of you flew away on the magical item, you shouted quickly, “take us west! that’s where the house is!” she shouts to wade who is somehow controlling the thing from the bottom.

when you arrived at the house, you saw the others, as in the former x-men, which were all very familiar with you.

they greeted you, and you introduced them to the boys.

“this my friend wade! and this… is logan.” you say your excitement wandering off as you say logan’s name, wanting to purposely annoy him.

logan rolled his eyes and introduced himself to everybody sense you didn’t do it for him. the others noticed the frustrating tension between you and logan, most saw it as hatred, but gambit saw right through the both of you.

as everyone started to mingle, gambit approached you and introduced himself, his speed of speaking somehow easy for your brain to comprehend.

“you know, you and that logan guy would be one hot couple.” you almost choked on your spit, turning to him with your eyes wide.

“me… and logan…? like as in dog boy logan? like as in i fight people with claws like a furry, logan?” your comment made gambit chuckle, he nodded his head.

“yes, furry logan. it always startz as enemies, i tink you and him would really get along if you actully chose to.”

you rolled your eyes, “i’m gonna have to disagree with you on that one, mr gambit. i hate that man with a passion.”

he just shrugged his shoulders, looking around the room before looking over at you. “whatever you say, miss y/n. i may just see somefin you don’t.”

about an hour later, the group was all gathered around the table, trying to figure out a plan to capture and kill cassandra.

“okay. cassandra has her big army of dick-riders, so we have to find someway to distract/kill them without the others getting suspicious.” wade says, obviously opening the conversation for ideas.

“maybe we just go head first and attack them all?” electra suggests, which is a good idea, but someone would end up getting killed.

wade looks like he has a light bulb moment, and he turns to you. “remember that one time when we fought off those guys behind the bar in new york, and you did your little dance fighting thing, slowly killing them without the others knowing because you seduced them first,” wade said, sparking memory in your head. everyone else looked confused, while logan looked completely against the idea already.

“yes, how could i forget? that night started my tradition of dance fighting.”

wade smirks, “what if we use that in this? you seduce and fight the guards while we sneak in. i went by earlier and saw the army only comes out when it’s a group, so if it’s just you, seducing the guards, they won’t question a thing.”

wade’s idea makes your face lighten up, loving the idea of being the center of attention. “and how do we know this will work?” logan’s voice is obviously unamused.

“it’s never failed.” you spoke, shooting him a smirk before turning back to wade.

“yeah. let’s do it. i’ll walk up, distract the guard while you guys go through the back and sneak in, just give me a signal when you finally kill that bald bitch, because sway my hips for so long.”

your comment causes the other to laugh, except for logan, as usual. he just huffs, already not liking the idea.

you’re outside the house, everyone getting into the car, no seats for you and logan. “can you guys just sit in the trunk?”

you shoot him a look, knowing it won’t end well.

“out of all two people to out in the trunk, you should be smart enough to know him and i are the worst ones possible.”

logan scowled in agreement, if scowling in agreement was even possible.

wade just shrugged, telling you guys to suck it up and just get in the back, because we were only driving a few minutes.

you rolled your eyes, opening the back and getting in.

logan watched you with narrowed eyes, rolling his eyes before plopping in the trunk. he closed it behind him, and once it was closed, he scooted as far away as possible from you.

you scoffed and roll your eyes, “i don’t bite, ya know.” your words made him chuckle.

“you seem like you would with all those snarky comments you make.” his words make your mouth fall open, slightly offended.

“are you calling me a fucking ankle-biter?”

“yes.”

logan’s quick yes added to your loss for words, unable to form a sentence as you just sat there with your mouth open.

logan chuckled, but realized he was chuckling and stopped himself, quickly looking out the back window, trying to hide the fact he almost got comfortable around you.

when you guys finally arrived, wade got out and hit the button on the trunk.

logan got out abnormally fast, making wade laugh. you got out, grabbing your suit.

when you got you, wade closed the back and got back in the car, driving away and leaving you there.

you ran to the nearest room, changed into your suit, then stared walking toward cassandra's lair.

wade was parking on the side, his car hidden as he watched you slowly walk up to the group, boombox in hand.

wade pressed play on his phone, the song 'murder on the dancefloor' starting to blast on the boombox, drawing attention to you as you slowly walked up to the guards.

you set the boombox down onto the ground, walking up to the first guard, smiling at him as you placed both your hands on his shoulders, swaying your hips.

you slowly swayed down his body, hands roaming all over him. he was clearly into it, and that's what made it even better for you.

you slowly brought him to the side, pretending to kiss him, knocking him unconscious.

you slowly knocked down each guard with your moves and hands, seducing them then knocking them out.

you left them all in a pile, on top of each other, on the side of cassandra's lair.

when you were done, you walked over to the car, knocking on the window, as wade rolls it down.

"haven't seen you in your suit doing your thing for a few years! that was perfect!" wade exclaimed, getting out of the car.

you smiled, noticing how quite logan was from the trunk.

"you have about 30 minutes to get your asses in there before all the guards wake up." is all you say, earning a nod from wade and the rest of the group.

"yes ma'am." wade says, only half joking.

you nod as everyone gets out of the car, you push the button in the back so logan is able to do that.

logan huffs as he finally gets out. "i didn't need your help."

you could tell something was up. something different.

you roll your eyes, “oh, my bad mr. tough guy.” logan let out a scowl, and you watch his body shivered. you were unsure whether it was from anger or something else.

“you just love to push my buttons, don’t you.” his raspy, low voice caused you to turn your head, noticing the fact that he was actually pissed off by you. it made you want to annoy him more. you’d been grating on his nerves for this whole mission, and it barely even started.

“yes. that’s my job, dog boy, keep you on your toes.”

as much as you may despise logan, you have to grant it to him, he knows what he's doing, and he's admirable with it. this time, his voice is tired, not annoyed.

which makes you hold back a giggle. you’re tiring him. that’s something you find cute. “whatever woman, just shut up.”

and you do. you figure you can always annoy him more later, but right now there’s grater matters to deal with.

you hop back into the car, going into the front and making yourself comfortable as the others go to fight. your part was done and now you were more than happy to take the time you could to relax.

later that day, the mission was over with, and it didn't go as planned.

"i did all that ass shaking for nothing?" your words cause the group to have a collective laugh, except for logan, per usual.

"you'll live." his comment sends a shot through your heart, which you show, pretending to faint and holding your heart with your right hand.

"no.. i won't," you say, in stuttered breaths. wade just rolled his eyes at how dramatic you were, but the others seemed to love your jokes.

"will you quit that, you dramatic dingo?" wade's words snd nickname cause you to stop, bursting out into laughter with the rest of the team. except again for the usual exception, logan.

after everyone calms down it's settled that you, wade and logan were going to go through the portal, while the others stayed behind and you got them out later.

you arrived once again at cassandra's lair. yesterday you had captured her and she offered to let you guys to the real world, however, with a price. that woman never gave out things for free. there was some kind of catch and you knew that, but chose to ignore it for the time being, more ready to go back home to your regular universe.

it was just before dark, and as you walked into the lair, cassandra was sat in her chair, she turned to face you as you walked up the ramp. "hello boys, and y/n. welcome back. are you finally set for our trade?"

the three of you nodded, wade stepped forward. "yes we're ready miss death giver. please send us home." his words were so unserious, yet spoken in a serious tone and it almost made it seem serious. even logan almost chuckled.

cassandra opened the portal, watching carefully as the three of you walked through. you made it through, feeling as if you were falling to your death.

as you were falling from the sky, you turned to see logan, next to you, also falling, questionably close to you. he still managed to have his signature grumpiness as he was practically falling to his death, and he rolled his eyes and held a hand out to you, which caused your eyebrow to raise.

was he being... thoughtful toward you? that's a fucking first.

you accepted his hand, the two of you falling together onto a tree, groaning as the pain was still present. you heard some kind of click in the sky and slowly watched wade fall, landing on a poison ivy garden. you chuckled, then turned to logan, seeing his eyes still shut, his breath huffing and puffing. you then looked down, noticing that your hands were still holding each other.

you started to panic and let go, watching his eyes open slowly and his breathing start to slow down. "what, didn't want to hold my hand?" his snarky comment caused you to roll your eyes.

"no. you'll live." you say, using his comment from earlier.

he bares his teeth as a way of holding back another mean comment, watching as you slowly got up, starting to make your way over to wade, leaving his limp body there, by himself.

finally, the three of you make it back to wade's home. it was practically midnight and all the three of you were extremely drained after the day you had.

"you guys can stay here for the night with me, i have a spare bedroom and a couch." wade's words made you perk up, but logan beat you to it before you could say anything.

"you can take the couch. you're small enough to fit on it." you clench your jaw at logan's comment, sighing as wade shakes his head.

“not in my house, logan. as much as i love you mr. mutt, miss twerkalator over here gets the bed. unless you two want to share it."

logan looks at you, eyeing you up and down before shaking his head. "i'll take the couch."

you two walk into the room, and logan's eyes widen at the king sized bed.

he turns to you, his face obviously fighting back a decision. "we can share it. if that's okay with you. i propose a pillow wall."

you shook your head and giggled. "fine logan. only if there's a pillow wall. i want the right side though."

with a roll of his eyes, he sets his stuff down on the left side, you go out to say goodnight to wade, who must've changed into sweatpants and a hoodie cause he's no longer in his suit.

when you walk out, he's is wiggling his eyebrows at you. "you two have fun sharing that bed, okay? if you decide to fuck, let me know so i can come watch."

his words make you physically cringe, watching as his face is purely serious. this man was not joking. you roll your eyes, "there will be no fucking on your spare bed, wade. especially not with him." your cold words make wade shake his head.

"whatever you say, princess. if i hear moaning i'll assume it's the neighbors."

his final comment makes you flip him off as you walk back into the room, he blows you a kiss before you shut the door behind you.

logan is in the bathroom, then he walks out. "there's a shower in here. just letting you know. i'm gonna take one first, you can go after me if you need to." his tone seems calmer, but you assumed it was only because of his tiredness.

you nodded, just accepting the fact he was showering first and sitting yourself on the floor, grabbing your phone.

you didn't want to get the bed dirty, especially with your suit. so you just picked out your clothes, and waited for logan to be finished with his shower.

another quite twenty minutes and the bathroom door swung open.

he walks out, a plain white towel hanging low around his hips, his chest hair carrying small water droplets, a few dropping to the floor as he walked. his body is sculpted and wonderfully chiseled. his chest was defined, along with his abs, his veins evident, and his abs defined. there was a little trail of hair along his v-line, leading to below the towel. his beard had a few drops of water still left in it, assuming it was damp.

you swallowed, trying to ignore the fact that his body was perfect, setting your clothes onto the bed and rushing yourself into the shower.

you tried to push back the possible thoughts of him looking delicious, and decided to just brush them off in your shower. but as you stepped in, it got worse.

the warm water hit your cold skin, almost like a reverse burn, but a good burn. it felt nice on your timid skin, you used this as a way to try and ignore the feeling you just had when you saw logan shirtless.

as much as you hated him, you couldn’t deny it. he was fucking hot. and his body was even hotter.

you physically shook off the thoughts as you noticed a face wash in the shower. wade and his skincare. you grabbed it and used it, aggressively washing your face from all the dirty thoughts you just had and then washing your body, your hair, adding conditioner, then stepping out of the shower.

you dry of your body, deciding to do the same thing he did. you walked out, your breasts pushed up on the towel as you held it, grabbing your clothes off the bed, then walking back into the bathroom to change.

as you shut the door, you caught a glimpse of logan staring at your body and when he quickly looked away, you knew you had got him.

you got yourself changed, throwing your hair into one of wade’s bright pink towels and going to sit on the bed. you were sat awkwardly on one side, while logan was sat awkwardly on the other.

you grabbed your phone, trying to drown out the awkward silence through your instagram feed, but it wasn’t cutting it.

logan wasn’t even trying to deny the awkward silence, he just stood there, letting his thoughts overload his brain.

he huffed, before grabbing the towel by his bed, placing it onto his pillow and setting his head down. “i’m gonna go to sleep. don’t wake me up.”

his harsh words make you want to laugh, remembering the scared look he had on his face when you caught him staring form just minutes ago, but you decided to let him rest and leave him be for the night.

he quickly fell asleep, beginning to snore, which made you laugh, but you quickly got tired yourself and set the phone down, plugging it in and falling asleep yourself.

you slept for a few hours, before you woke up, your mouth incredibly dry and in need of some water.

you slowly got up, trying not to knock over the pillow wall as you did so, you slowly opened and shut the door behind you, trying to refrain from any noise. you walked out to the kitchen, grabbing a glass from wade’s cupboard and filling it up with his fancy filtered water from the fridge. you took a sip, the cold liquid instantly wetting your throat, easing your cotton mouth.

you started to look at the magnets on wade’s fridge, smiling as you saw multiple pictures, even one of you and him. it was a selfie he stopped to take in the middle of a mission. he was a fucking goofball.

you turned and jumped, seeing logan behind you. he was grabbing a glass for himself. “did i scare you?” he just chuckled at you and got some of the tap water, chugging it. he obviously knew the answer to that and was just asking to piss you off even more.

you rolled your eyes, ignoring his question and getting more to the water from the filter. he rolled his eyes. “filtered water? seriously? now i see why you and wade get along so well. you both are incredibly boujee.” his use of the word boujee practically makes you spit out your water into the sink.

“i never expected that word to be in your dictionary.” you said, honestly, watching as he chuckled, filling up his water and sipping it this time.

“there’s a lot of things you don’t know about me.” his voice was low and raspy, lower than usual. it was his sleepy voice, you were trying not to let it get it you. didn’t matter what he said. it was the voice that was the problem.

“yeah? like that you snore in your sleep? just found that out a few hours ago.”

logan scoffed, clenching then unclenching his jaw, holding back a roll of his eyes. “yes, i snore. i didn’t even know until my ex-wife told me.”

the mention of his ex-wife made the room go silent, with the exception of the faucet dropping a few times.

his comment just reminded you of how much older he was than you. you decided to not let it be awkward by keeping the conversation going.

“ex-wife huh? how many of those have you had?” your snark comment making his eyes actually roll this time.

he could hear the teasing nature in your voice and didn’t take it the wrong way, but was still acting annoyed, because he always tried to be with you.

“i’m not answering that question.” his response made you giggle. you just smiled to him, deciding to tease him a bit.

“you gonna make me guess?”

with a roll of his eyes he set his glass into the sink, and you didn’t realize his body was slowly getting closer to yours.

“don’t guess. cause i won’t tell you.”

you hid back a smile, looking up at him. “you know, i caught you staring earlier.” your blunt comment made all his attention go on you, eyes searching you up and down for any sign of discomfort at the thought of him staring at your body.

“i was not staring.” his voice was still low and husky, making your stomach get butterflies. you watched to stop them but you couldn’t help it. logan was towering over you and all you could do was look up at him.

he body moved closer to you as you said your next comment. “you definitely were. i saw it with my own two eyes.”

your comment must’ve struck a nerve in him, because his body was now fully pressed up against you, one hand on your hip while the other rested on the fridge above your head. you were unsure of what to do, he practically had you pinned to the fridge.

“i said, i wasn’t staring, doll. what part of that don’t you get?” he spoke slower this time, eyes daggering into yours, making your heart flutter.

“okay. you weren’t staring.” your words make him smile a bit.

“that’s right.” his voice was taunting almost, and it made you shiver. he stared down at you, and as he separated himself from you, you noticed, a bulge in his pants. you giggled to yourself as he walked back into the room. leaving you there, with your many ideas in your head of how the rest of the night could go.

you take a deep breath, composing yourself before walking back into the room. you laid down on your side of the pillow wall, staring at the ceiling. little did you know he was doing the same.

you took a deep breath before you said your next sentence. “you know, it’s okay to get a boner. it’s normal.”

your comforting yet embarrassing words caused his cheeks to flush. your words made him realize you noticed his bulge, and he huffed before throwing each of the four pillows in the pillow wall onto the floor.

“what did you just say?”

you tried to hide back your amused giggle. “you heard me and you know it.”

your eyes glared into his, watching his face as his jaw clenched. he knew he’d been caught.

“i said, it’s okay to have a boner. i know you’re hard because of our interaction. and because of seeing me in nothing but a towel. you don’t have to hide your attraction for me, logan. i’m not stupid. i know it’s there.”

your words cause a battle within him internally. there’s no denying that your words sent a shiver down his body. frankly, he wouldn't be surprised if a wet patch appeared in his pants.

he tries to think of something snarky to respond with, wanting to ignore the aroused feeling he had, not wanting you to have the slightest hint about how he was feeling.

you decided to speak again before he could, "in fact, i'm sure it's getting worse the more i speak-" you don't have time to finish your surly sentence before he's right there, his hot breath fanning your face from above, his forearms on either side of your head, trapping you in.

"you know what? yeah. you're the reason why i'm hard. doing your fucking dance fighting. i had to hide how hard i was. watching you kill those guys so effortlessly, and looking sexy while you did it. and, god you walking around here in nothing but a towel, last night where you worse the littlest shorts that barely even cover your ass. that's what made me hard. god, and i've been trying to hide it for so long but it just seems like i'm affecting you too."

he growls, his face falling to your neck, the intersection of your shoulder, his lips just brushing the flesh before inhaling deeply; almost animalistic.

you smile, looking up at him, getting another idea. you bat your eyelashes and take his hand, knocking him to his side as he's forced to lay next to you. “lo, you do affect me, so bad," you take his hand and lead it down to your core, pressing his hand to your clothed pussy. "right here. you feel that? feel how wet i am? it's all cause of you."

you watch as his mouth falls open and his pants tighten, seeing his dick twitch in his sweatpants. he's at a loss for words. he was expecting you to submit to him, but the way you didn't sent shivers down his spine.

"yeah? i did that?" his mouth now forms to a smirk, looking over at you, down to your lips and up to your eyes.

"yes you did. and i've been aching, waiting for you to come help me out." you watch as his head falls back, a puff of air falling from his mouth.

"fuck, stop talking." his command only eggs you on. you being the little menace you are, continue with your teasing.

"need you so bad logan. so bad right here. she's been aching. calling for you. god, she's so tight and needs something to stretch her out, think you can do that? i bet you’re so big, could stretch her out real good.”

you watch as his body shakes, and you notice a wet patch on his sweatpants, realizing the fact that he just came, just from the words you were saying and the slight touch of your clothed pussy.

"you must've been waiting for this huh? already came in your pants. naughty boy."

logan doesn't let you get another word, because his lips press to yours. after so much waiting, the tension was finally being released through a kiss.

the two of you continue your messy kiss, and it doesn't take long for his hands to stray, his palms skimming down your hot flesh, and leaving goose bumps in his wake.

“fucking hell, woman,” he whines, getting on top of you again, kissing your lips. "you're gonna look so much better when I mark you up, every inch of you. you already look like you’re mine."

his words made you moan, tugging at your shirt, signaling for you to take it off, which you do, you throw it over your head and across the room. leaving you in nothing but your soaked panties.

“god, so fucking pretty. you know how hard it was for me not to do this to you earlier on? you know how long i’ve been fucking waiting?” his harsh words make your body tremble. he slowly kissed your breasts.

his tongue swirled across your left nipple, sucking on it, eyes up on you, watching your face, watching it contort into pleasure because of him.

he kisses and gives love to the other breast, sucking on it as his hands slowly roam your body, overstimulating you with his touch.

he slowly descends while pulling at the waist of your panties. it appears like that's when he realizes it, pulling away from you, breathing heavily, his beard tingling your hip bones.

his desperate eyes look up at you, searching your face for any regret to which he found none.

he takes off your panties, shoving them in his pocket. "i'm gonna keep these."

his words make you moan again. you look down and he has a devilish grin on his face, both his arms wrapping around your legs, nibbling on your thighs before starting to devour as if he's starving and you're his last meal.

his tongue immediately fucks into your hole, eyes never leaving your face as he works his magic. his nose rubs against your clit, moaning the more he gets into it.

he was being so messy, and it was making you wetter, which then continued to make the situation even messier.

his facial hair caresses your swelling pearl as he eats you whole, without any hesitation—to him, you are a complete feast.

the most exquisite sight you have ever seen is his tongue in your pussy as he gives you sloppy kisses.

you can only watch, gripping his hair and running your fingers through his dark locks, yanking for some semblance of stability, something to keep you bound to this world because the pleasure you feel is unfathomable.

"fuck, logan that feels amazing?" your words only edge him on, watching as his silly smirk turns to a devilish grin.

"does it baby? tell me more." his voice is still low and husky, and he grips your thighs tighter, noticing your body shaking.

but you're so close, perched precariously on the brink of something amazing, something profound, something cosmic. you are crying as he gets closer and closer to you, enjoying every taste of his tongue in your cave and every nuzzle of his nose to your extremely sensitive spot.

"i'm so close." is all you are able to say, feeling a bit embarrassed at the fact the man you once despised was now between your legs, making you yell for him.

"yeah? come on doll, i'll take you there." his words mixed with his stimulations on your clit and fucking of your hole finally bring you to the edge.

your body trembles and shakes as he makes you cum for the first time of the night, you drench his face in your juices, loving how intimate he was with his way pleasuring you.

"good fucking girl." his words combined with his look turns you back on instantly, sending shivers down to your core as you finally come down from your high.

he comes up, you place both hands on either sides of his face, his soaked beard tickling your fingers. "you're gonna ruin me, aren't you?"

his smile only grows, as he begins to lower his sweatpants, "i'm gonna make it so no other man is able to top what i do to you tonight."

his words make you moan, he presses a kiss to your forehead before letting his dick free, you watched as the precum dripped onto your stomach, trying to ignore how hot it was. god, even his dick was hairy. but today was the day you finally decided to admit that you loved every fucking hair on his body.

he slowly aligned with your aching pussy, which is practically waiting just to suck him in. he slowly pushes in, earning a moan to fall from his soaked lips.

you hiss, but as he stretches you, the minor pain only makes you want to absorb him completely more. your ass reaches his thighs, causing you to realize that he's now balls deep in you.

he mutters, "fucking hell," letting out the most agonizing sigh yet.

his movements begin slowly as you becomes accustomed to his immense girth filling you up to the brim.

even the smallest movement causes your walls to become tense around the ridges of his dick, grinding against you so strongly. with each rock, his breathing gets deeper, his eager pants and short pleas filling the air as he picks up tempo.

he moves faster, eyes gazing into yours, he pulls his hand up and places it on your stomach, pressing down knowing it would increase the pleasure for you.

“tell me baby, talk to me. how does it feel?” he already knew the answer to that, but he absolutely loved the thought of you beneath him, trembling under of his manipulation.

“so fucking good.” your harsh words make his dick twitch.

“yeah? tell me more, hon.” your head falls back, hair sprawling onto the pillows as your body shook, feeling overstimulated by his words and thrusts, that were picking up speed, and the fact that you had already came once, and fast. you knew you wouldn’t last much longer.

he looks down at you, letting his hand trail from your stomach to your mouth. “open.”

you watch carefully, eyes never leaving his as his fingers slowly slide into your mouth, moaning as he remains eye contact and watches you suck on them. seeing that makes him imagine how good your tight little mouth would feel around his dick.

“god, you’re gorgeous.” he says, finally admitting it.

all you can do it smile, realizing this is the first time he’s ever genuinely complimented you, and you decided to take it in, and tease him with it. per usual.

“think that’s the first time you’ve ever complimented me. you finally letting yourself see how fucking hot i am?”

your words apparently get to him because he winces. not a sad wince, a pathetic ‘i need to cum’ type wince.

“stop that.” his voice is harsh, a bit whiny, as he continues to thrust into you, both hand now on your hips as he hovers above you, his tip hitting your cervix, stretching you out just for him.

"stop what, logan? you don't like hearing about how we could've fucked so much earlier, if you just quit the fucking act and admitted how horny i made you?" your dirty talk was working on him and you were loving it.

the man was whimpering, his hips starting to stutter, as he pounded into you, wanting to make you cum before he did.

"if you keep talking like that i'm gonna cum, y/n." you smiled up at him, knowing you were close as well.

your tired eyes batted up at him, a small smile forming on your face.

"then cum. do it. fucking cum, i'll cum with you, yeah? filling me up so good, you feel her clenching? that's all from you baby, you got me this hot and bothered, now make me fucking cum." your words flipped a switch in him.

he started pounding into you, balls slapping repeatedly against your ass as he moved, keeping his same pace but now fucking you harder.

he moaned into your ear, "yeah? i'll make you fucking cum. gonna make you cum so hard the only thing you'll remember is my fucking name," his harsh words and the fact he could go from submissive to dominant so fast made you go over the edge for the final time that night.

you finally came, the continuous pressure in your bundle of nerves, the hot white wave of pleasure sends you hurtling through the sky and to heaven in an instant, leaving you in a state of unrestrained bliss that you cannot predict.

your body is electrified from head to toe. somewhere in the mix of your earth-shattering orgasm logan came as well, the sight of you in such state making him reach his peak, filling your walls with his hot sticky cum.

you both sat there for a second, catching your breath, and suddenly you looked down to see logan’s hot cum gushing out of you and onto the bedsheets, the sight becoming to hot to handle, as you both moaned in unison.

he got up and went to the bathroom, getting a rag from the cupboard and drowning it in hot sink water, ringing it out before walking over to you and cleaning you up.

his tongue licked up some of the mixed cum, and you watched with big eyes, feeling even more aroused at the sight.

he used the rag to get the rest and wipe off his beard from your juices.

he threw the rag into the hamper, climbing into bed next to you again, this time a lot closer and with no pillow wall.

instead, you rested in his arms, smiling up at him, as the two of you finally fell asleep.

the next morning, you and logan lay for a bit before you throw on one of his shirts and some of your shorts and walk out to the kitchen, seeing wade sitting at this dining table with his fake glasses on, drinking a cup of coffee in his ‘love yourself’ mug.

he eyes the both of you as you walk out, taking note of the outfit changes.

he smiled. “morning sunshine’s. how’d the night go? did you guys hear my neighbors downstairs at all? sounded like they were getting it on, the guy was moaning and groaning, must’ve been havin’ a grand ole’ time,” wade says, doing the thrust motion with his arms up causing logan’s face to turn a bit pink, making you laugh loudly.

he came up to you, hands around your waist and lips near your ear.

“try to walk in a straight line, sweetheart, then we’ll see who’s laughing.”

a/n: SURPRISEEEE hiii guys! this is what i have been working on all day! i wanted to spoil you with more then just a drabble while i had motivation. MWAH I HOPE U ENJOYED!

[strawbebyjam]

i think i’ve reached my breaking point

[alltheirdamn]

Rotten | cowboy!joel x f!reader

Flowers

Summary: Joel decides to surprise you with something nice, but you're not in the mood. He's quick to fix your attitude, and put you in your place. Rating: 18+ Explicit MDNI Word Count: 4k Warnings: No-Outbreak AU, established relationship, bickering and banter, explicit & filthy language, brat taming, reader has an attitude x1000, face slapping, hair pulling, kissing, ball worship, ball sucking, deepthroating, dabble of degredation, praise!kink, facial, f! masturbation, cumplay, rough (and soft) unprotected piv sex, creampie, some fluffy moments, just two idiots in love (even though they can be cranky) A/N: okay okay, i couldn't get enough of them. this is just pure filth, so suck it up buttercups. all my love, always xoxo

Masterlist | Ko-Fi | Part I

“What the fuck are those?” You asked, glaring at Joel as he walked into the stables.

He had a small bouquet of wildflowers gripped in his large hand, a soft grin teasing his lips. You were too focused on getting Mac prepped for a ride to the fields and in no mood for pleasantries. Joel stuck his hand out to you, offering the flowers with a nonchalant shrug.

“What do y’fuckin’ think they are? Christ, you’re in a fuckin’ mood,” he huffed. 

“Only ‘cause you’re getting on my last nerve.”

“Ain’t I always doin’ that?” He teased.

“Oh, shut up.”

You brushed past him, hauling Mac’s leather saddle off the hook on the wall and over to where Mac rested in the stall. Joel followed, his large shadow covering yours as you settled the saddle over Mac’s body. With a loud huff, you turned to Joel, seeing the flowers held tight to his chest. 

“Y’want them or not?” He asked, obviously irritated with your reaction. 

“If I take them, will you go away?”

You held out a hand, waiting for him to give them to you. Joel looked at your hand before sliding his dark gaze up to your eyes. It was a nice gesture, you’ll give him that, but you were running out of daylight to do what you needed before it got too late. 

“Depends,” he mused. “Gonna give me a kiss and say ‘thank you’?”

You rolled your eyes, flexing your fingers as a silent command for the bouquet. 

“Will you go away if I do?”

“Depends on how good y’kiss me,” Joel quipped.

“I hate you, you know that?” You deadpanned.

“Whatever y’say,” he chuckled, tugging you forward by your belt loop. “Fuckin’ brat, c’mere.”

Pressing your body against his, you cupped his scruff-covered jaw and dragged him to your lips. You could feel Joel’s smile against your mouth as you deepened the kiss, your tongue running over his bottom lip as he pulled you closer. Every hard edge of his body molded against yours, and the kiss quickly became consuming and greedy. Oh, it was so easy to get distracted by him. Peeling yourself from his lips, you lightly swatted at his chest and grabbed for the flowers. 

“Good enough for you, old man?”

“Always good enough for me, darlin’,” Joel smiled, kissing you on the forehead. 

“Good. Now, can y’leave me alone?” You asked. “I got things to do.”

You placed the flowers on the stool by the stall doors and came around the other side of Mac. You worked at securing the tie straps under his stomach, tightening them until the saddle stayed firm in place. Mac shifted slightly to the side, his neck knocking into your shoulder as you straightened back up. Looking over Mac, you saw Joel smoothing a hand over his coat, his eyes watching you curiously. 

“So,” he drawled. “Where we goin’?”

“We aren’t goin’ anywhere,” you corrected. “I’m goin’ down to the fields to check on the crops.”

“Lemme come with,” he offered. “I’ll be good company.”

You patted Mac on the jaw before walking back over to Joel, shoving him gently out of the stall. 

“You’ll be a pain in my ass,” you argued.

You braced your hands against his chest for one last shove, but Joel was quick to grab your wrists and pin them at your sides. He had you trapped in his grip, and you squirmed under the heavy gaze that looked down upon you. You knew that look, and you loved it. 

“Reckon I didn’t fuck y’hard enough last night,” Joel said, his voice dropping an octave. “Y’got quite the attitude today.”

You lifted your chin in defiance, giving him a tightlipped smile. It only made his hands squeeze your wrists tighter, the friction of his fingers against your skin burning deep into your flesh. Taunting Joel was easy; it was fun getting him all riled up, and you were really fucking good at pushing his buttons. 

“Whatcha gonna do ‘bout it, Joel?” You dared. “Y’gonna fuck me right here in the stables?”

“You askin’ me to? ‘Cause I will, darlin’. Have you pinned to the ground ‘fore you can even blink.”

“Y’got bad knees, Miller. Not sure that’s a smart idea,” you teased.

Joel stepped forward, crowding you into the wooden panels of the stable walls. His face was a breath away from yours, and you arched into his touch every time his mouth inched closer. You chased his lips, wanting the taste of smoke on your tongue, but he never let himself get close enough. 

“I swear to God, some days y’really know how to piss me the fuck off.”

“It’s what I do best,” you smiled, rolling your tongue along your bottom lip.

Joel’s eyes flicked down to your mouth, watching you push your bottom lip into an innocent pout. He unwound his hands from around your wrists and crowded you against the wall. With his height towering over you, you had to strain your neck to look at his eyes, the soft brown dissolving into a storm of onyx as his pupils engulfed his irises. 

Oh, you were in for it now. 

“Y’know what I do best, darlin’?” Joel challenged. “Reckon I’m real fuckin’ good at teachin’ you how to shut the fuck up. So, y’better get on them pretty lil’ knees ‘fore I force you onto them.”

Every threatening word was a straight bolt of pleasure to your core, and you indulged in his commands, sliding to your knees without a single complaint. Responsibilities be damned, you’d happily obey him when he ordered you around like this. Tilting your head up, you batted your lashes at Joel, sucking your bottom lip between your teeth. 

“Look at you listenin’ to me like a good lil’ slut,” Joel hummed.

Your fingers teased their way up his denim jeans, tracing over the thick muscles of his thighs. You’d never grow tired of exploring the rugged plains of his body. 

“Maybe I like doin’ what you ask,” you quipped. “I’m still damn good at sassin’ you, though. Don’t y’ever forget that, Miller.”

His hand smoothed down the hair at the crown of your head, petting you softly as he admired you. His softness was always alluring, but you knew you’d make him break the facade until he destroyed you in whichever way he pleased. And your body was begging for it now.

“Trust me, I ain’t ever forgettin’ that. So long as y’never forget I’m the one that gets to silence you for a goddamn minute.”

“Only a minute?” You teased. Bait and switch. “That’s how long y’gonna last, huh?”

Joel’s fingers tightened in your hair, yanking your head back until you strained against his firm grip. Bending slightly, he leveled you with a heavy stare before sending his palm flat against your cheek. You winced at the pain, but it all dissolved into a flood of arousal between your legs. 

“Start undoin’ my belt,” he demanded, straightening back to his full height. “Y’got me real pissed off now, darlin’.”

You gave him a coy smirk before sliding your hands over the leather of his belt, working at undoing the large metal belt buckle that situated itself under the soft pudge of his stomach. The coarse hair collecting over his navel tickled your fingertips as you dragged his jeans down his thick thighs. The black boxers hugging his hips strained against the bulge of his hardened cock, the fabric damp from precum. 

“Ain’t got all day,” Joel huffed, bucking his hips forward.

“Yeah, me neither,” you grumbled to yourself. 

Joel’s hand cupped your jaw, his fingers squeezing your chin hard. You blinked up at him, watching his brows furrow together as he considered your slight attitude. 

“What was that, darlin’?” He questioned.

“You’re wastin’ my time,” you said, voice heightened. “Can you get your dick out so I can get back to my responsibilities?”

Joel found that amusing, huffing a small laugh before hooking his thumbs into the band of his boxers. His cock sprang free, the tip red and dripping with precum. You licked your lips instinctively as you inched your body forward. Reaching for his thick length, you parted your lips to take the head of his cock into your mouth. 

“Nuh uh, not yet,” Joel tutted. 

He gripped the base of his cock with his large hand, stroking his length slowly and deliberately. You stared up at him, confused, your core throbbing as you watched him pump his cock with a devilish grin spreading across his face. He lifted his cock toward his navel, presenting you with his balls that hung low between his thighs. 

“Suck on them,” he ordered. “Let me see how sloppy you can get. C’mon darlin’.”

Your knees scrapped over the hay-covered floor as you got closer, and you pressed soft kisses against his firm thighs. You had just as much power as he did, even beneath him. Dragging your tongue up his inner thigh, you pressed your nose against the crease of his pelvis, inhaling his musky scent before licking your way down toward his balls. Joel’s body twitched at the sudden sensation of your mouth, a low hum escaping his lips as you suctioned around the velvety skin. 

“There we go, that’s it. Look at how pretty y’look between my legs,” Joel praised. “Keep puttin’ that filthy mouth to use.”

You whined at his words, preening at the gentle praises he gave. You took turns worshipping each, alternating between languid strokes of your tongue and soft suckling motions that made him shudder above you. Bringing a hand up, you cupped them together, your jaw aching as you pulled them into the warmth of your mouth. Joel continued pumping himself, his fingers occasionally brushing over you as he gripped the base of his cock. 

“Mhmm, just like that. Ain’t givin’ you my cock yet, so keep it up. Get sloppy with it, darlin’.”

Planting one hand on his hip, you pulled away with a trail of drool falling from your lips. If he wanted sloppy, then you’d give him sloppy. Gathering enough saliva over your tongue, you sent a glob of spit over them. Your mouth was immediately back on him, tongue gliding across the supple skin now glistening with your drool. The further you nuzzled into the space between his legs, the stronger his musk became, the manly scent of him invading your senses as you drank him in. 

“Y’like that, darlin’? Got your whole face pressed against my balls like a good lil’ slut.”

“Yes,” you moaned, your words muffled and desperate. 

You teased your way upward, letting your tongue flick against the base of his cock. Joel tensed up, his hand halting its deliberate strokes. He didn’t protest to your wandering mouth, so you continued your movements further up the underside of his cock, tracing your tongue over the thick veins that ran up his hardened length. 

“Greedy lil’ thing just achin’ for my cock, huh? Bet those pretty panties are just drenched right now,” he teased. 

You gave him a tiny nod before he guided the head of his cock between your parted lips. The tang of precum coated your tastebuds as you drank him in, widening your jaw until it slackened. Joel stuffed himself inside your mouth, pressing himself deeper until he nudged the back of your throat. Drool rolled down your chin as he rocked forward, knocking against your throat with each thrust. You sputtered around him, swallowing around his length to keep your breathing even. Curling your hair between his fingers, Joel held you firm at the base of his cock; your nose smashed into his pelvis as he kept you motionless against him. 

“Swear y’look so fuckin’ beautiful when your lips are wrapped around me, darlin’. I fuckin’ love seein’ you choke on my cock.”

Your eyes rolled back, the words spilling from his lips sounding like sweet honey as they poured over you, mixing with the pleasure building inside your core. You needed release just as badly as he did, your body thrumming with desire. Steadying your gaze up, you connected with Joel’s heavy stare, his eyes hooded and dark. Let’s play with fire, you thought as you snaked one hand down your abdomen. With your mouth still full of Joel’s cock, you worked at the button of your jeans, shoving your hand past the waistband of your underwear. He had been right… you were drenched. Your fingertips glided over your clit with ease, the friction of your touch sending shockwaves through your veins. A small cry muffled out from your lips, the vibration of the sound making Joel choke on his breath. 

“Christ,” he exhaled. “Always so damn needy, ain’t you?”

Joel ripped himself from your mouth, a slew of heaving breaths exhaling from your lips as you tried to fill your lungs again. Joel’s cock hung in front of your face, covered in your drool and painfully hard. Your fingers worked faster against your aching bud, your eyes fluttering shut as you neared the precipice of release. You knew he was close to release, too, and you lapped at the slit along the head of his cock playfully.

“I know you’re needy, too, Joel,” you teased. “C’mon.”

He groaned at your words, his hand wrapping around his length again, pumping himself fast and unsteady. The muscles under the soft skin of his stomach flexed, his balls tightening up as his orgasm neared. You held onto the white-hot pleasure boiling under your skin, waiting for the moment to come undone with him. 

“Please…please,” you begged, lips curling into a lazy smile.

Joel smacked a hand against the wall behind you, bending over your kneeling body as he pumped hot ropes of his cum over your face. It spattered against your wet lips, your cheeks, your nose…completely defiling you in the most perfect way. Your orgasm crashed against the surface, and you cried out as your core clenched through each ripple that fluttered through you.

“Fuck,” Joel groaned, crouching down. 

He cupped your face between his hands, his eyes hazy and tired as he admired you. Sweat clung to his brow, and a few curls stuck at his scalp, but he looked so handsome. Yes, he pissed you off… a lot… but he was yours. 

“I love you,” he muttered before pulling you in for a kiss.

You lapped at his tongue, the salty taste of your saliva coating over his mouth as you deepened the kiss. Joel’s tongue swept across your lips, collecting droplets of his cum with each pass. He fed his release to you, spit alternating between your open mouths as you pulled him closer. His knees scraped across the ground as he knelt in front of you, pinning your body to his chest as he wrapped a strong arm around your back. 

“Think my sweet girl deserves a lil’ attention now,” Joel whispered as his mouth trailed down your neck. 

Slowly, he guided you onto your back, the dust from the ground tickling your nose, and it kicked up around you. It didn’t take much wrestling to get your pants off, nor did you fight Joel when he hooked your legs over his shoulders and pressed himself against your entrance. 

“Forgot somethin’,” he said, peering up at you slyly.

Joel leaned over your body, brushing his fingers through the cum still covering your face. Collecting it on the pads of his fingers, he brought them down to his cock, coating his length in the sticky release he had spilled onto you only moments ago. You quirked a brow at him, watching him grip the base of his cock as he readied himself to push into you.

“Ain’t wastin’ a goddamn drop, darlin’. Wanna see this perfect pussy leakin’ with my cum.”

Then he was splitting you open with one hard thrust, forcing the air to whoosh out of your lungs. His cock slipped in and out of you with ease, lewd noises radiating around you as your slick mixed with his cum as he quickened his speed. Your back arched off the ground, your mind dizzying with the feeling of him pressing against that sweet spot inside you.

“This what you needed?” Joel grunted. “Needed that bratty lil’ attitude fucked outta you?”

“I still can’t fuckin’….stand you,” you gasped. 

“Ain’t gotta stand me, darlin’. Just needa take my cock whenever I want, and thank me for it.”

Joel bowed over your body, your legs aching as he pried them open wider. His cock speared into you, stretching you to an unbearable place as you writhed beneath him. Somewhere in the distance, you heard Mac huff loudly, no doubt impatient and waiting for you to return. Fuck, you were losing track of time, but with Joel’s weight pressed against you…none of it mattered.

“Y’gonna thank me?” Joel demanded. 

“Fuck me harder, and maybe I will.”

Joel’s eyes bore into you, flickers of hunger cresting over his dark irises. You knew that look—you loved that. You loved that moment right before he snapped; you loved knowing all your bratty efforts paid off. Yes, he bugged the shit out of you most of the time, but he was always yours in every single way. Your entire being had molded into his; your body, your heart…every part of you loved him.

“Harder, huh?” Joel smirked. “Think you deserve it after all the shit you pulled earlier? Don’t think so, darlin’. M’gonna fuck ya’ real nice and slow. Take my time with you.”

“Joel,” you whined.

He dismissed your pleas as he continued to rock into you, his pace slowing to an agonizing pace. You tried bucking your hips higher, coaxing him back into the tempo he had started with, but it was no use. With his meaty hand wrapped around one of your calves, Joel curled you into the ground, your body resting on its side while he curved himself into you. This was how you both slept at night—spooned into each other and bodies melded together. But now his breath was hot against your neck, and his cock was lazily thrusting in and out of you…and you were seeing stars explode behind your eyes. 

“This feel good, darlin’?” Joel whispered in your ear.

“Feels so fuckin’ good, Joel,” you sighed.

He wrapped an arm around your waist, his hand splayed across your stomach, drawing you even closer to his warm chest. You reached around his neck, craning your neck far enough to capture his lips, the sounds of your pleasured cries dying on his searching tongue. Joel panted into your open mouth, his breath ragged and strained as he bucked into your pliant body. 

“Ain’t gonna last much longer,” he groaned, nipping at your bottom lip. “Want you squeezin’ my cock when I fill you full of my cum.”

Your moan was loud enough to echo through the stables, his words ricocheting through your body as your orgasm built inside your core. Joel’s thrusts were shallow, but with each snap of his hips, he buried himself deeper. God, you could feel him in your fucking stomach; his thick length rubbing against your slick walls until you tensed up with the need for release.

“Just like that, Joel. Please…just like that,” you whimpered.

“I know, darlin’. I know,” he crooned. “Bein’ such a good girl for me.”

Your breath caught in your throat, a cry of relief tearing out of your chest as you unraveled in his arms. Your core clenched around him, just as he asked, your sex milking him through every wave of your release. Arousal leaked down your inner thighs, your skin slippery and wet as you felt Joel topple over the edge behind you. With an animalistic groan, he pumped you full of his cum, painting your insides with his release. 

Your head tilted back against his shoulder, your chests rising and falling with labored breaths. Joel curved his hand over your breasts, cupping them gently as he planted soft kisses down the side of your neck. 

“Where’s my thank you?” He mumbled into your skin, chuckling softly. 

You swatted at his hand as he toyed with your nipples, letting a soft laugh bubble out of you. Rolling to the side, you peeled away from his body, his softening cock slipping from inside you. Propping yourself on your knees—careful not to get dust or hay in places you didn’t want them—you tousled his salt and pepper hair, watching a grin split across his face.

“I love you, Joel,” you started. “And thank you for the flowers, but you’re still a pain in my fuckin’ ass.”

He propped himself up on one elbow, admiring your messy hair and blissed-out features, the amber color of his eyes drinking you in. 

“I could be fuckin’ your ass,” he tossed back.

“Fuck off!” You laughed, shoving his chest.

Gathering your clothes from the ground, you pieced yourself back together, shimming your jeans over your hips before sidestepping your way around his body and back into Mac’s stall. Mac paced around the stall, tossing his head back and forth as you neared him. You patted his side roughly before readjusting his saddle. Glancing over at the stool, your heart warmed at seeing the array of wildflowers nicely bundled together, a sweet reminder of the simplicity of Joel’s admiration. He wasn’t a man of many words, at least not the ones that sounded nice, but his efforts proved his love for you. 

“S’alright, darlin’,” Joel said, his body leaning against the doorway. “You can be nice for once and appreciate somethin’ chivalrous.” 

“Guess I never took you to be the type,” you shrugged with a grin.

“And we’re back to bein’ a lil’ brat,” he huffed.

Walking his way toward you, Joel scooped you into his arms, dipping his head low enough to draw you in for a slow, languid kiss. You raked your nails through his sweat-dampened curls, holding him close to you as you breathed in his whiskey scent. 

“C’mon,” he urged. “Let’s make sure my girl gets her responsibilities done for the day. I got plans for us later.”

“Oh?” You questioned.

“Mhmm. Got real big plans for you.”

You rolled your eyes, returning to Mac and lifting yourself into the stirrup. Joel’s hands grabbed onto your hips, helping guide you up. You adjusted your body in the saddle, readying yourself to take off, but Joel quickly kept Mac from moving. Before you could even protest, he was climbing up behind you, shoving himself against your back and crowding your body in the saddle. You tossed an annoyed look over your shoulder, only to be met by his usual lazy grin. 

This fucking man, you thought to yourself.

“I’m never gettin’ a moment of peace from you, am I?” You grumbled.

“Damn right, darlin’. Now, lead the way.”

You kicked your heels against Mac, guiding him out through the stables. The sunset colored the sky in lilac and soft pink hues as you and Joel rode into the fields, his hands tightly wrapped around your waist and his heart beating against your back. You’d never tire of moments like this, even if they all started with a few bickering words and filthy promises.

You loved your grumpy cowboy and the life you shared.

[moonlitdesertdreams]

Stuck like glue

Request: "I'm going to scream your domestic character joining coop on his travels from her cabin is SO good 😭 I was wondering if you would write something with the same character in her cabin when coop turns up from nearby having taken one too many bullets? Or maybe he's sick and needs some jet. Some hurt/comfort fluffy sweetness"

A/N: Thank you to the awesome anon who sent the idea! Maybe not AS fluffy as we wanted, but there's for sure some soft Ghoul going on in here. And, oh yeah, the reader has a dog now. No description of said dog has been given, so please imagine as you'd wish.

Tags: Fallout, Cooper Howard, Cooper Howard x F!Reader, Cooper Howard x You, Ghoul x Reader

WARNINGS: Canon-Typical language and violence, brief mentions of sexual interaction.

Summary: Your favorite Ghoul needs to be patched up after a spat with some Raiders, and you always know just how to make him feel better.

Word Count: 2.0k+

Gif credit to @elisefrost from this set

You’re outside attempting to hang clothes to dry when you hear it. 

The soft but distinct sound of jingling metal comes from behind your cabin. You set one hand on the pistol strapped to your thigh and walk in that direction, eyes peeled for any movement. A bark echoes the sound from your porch, and you snap at your four-legged companion in an attempt to get him to stay. 

“Tiger!” You hiss. “Quit!”

 He relents with an indignant huff and returns to the porch, while the metallic noise keeps up in a steady pattern, akin to the cadence of a slow walk. You tilt your head at the thought and eventually move the hand off your pistol; only one person would dare tread this close in broad daylight with such carelessness.

“Coop?”

You don’t see him anywhere, but you’re almost certain it was the sounds of his old spurs that caught your attention. 

“Cooper if you’re tryna scare me, you know I'll gut you.” The threat is an empty one, but saying it gives you some hope that it’s indeed him and not a Raider or Slaver looking to score some loot. 

“No need, babydoll.” His voice sounds ragged, tired. “Don’t think I could scare a bunny rabbit at the moment.” 

You follow his voice to your left, and find the Ghoul leaned up against a tree. He’s practically swaying in the breeze, very apparently unsteady. You rush over just as he slides down and collides with the dirt.. 

“Cooper! What happened to you?” 

Your hands flutter up and down his arms, brusquely checking for any injuries. Nothing obvious jumps out at you, but he heals fast and external wounds are rare. A wheeze claws its way up his throat and morphs into a hacking cough. You recognize the sound as the need for a Vial, and grab at his bag. 

“Do you have any on you?” 

A stuttered cough answers. “Fresh out… s’why I came here.”

Your stash of Vials had been growing just about as long as you’d known Cooper. When you traveled together, he’d hand some off to you for safekeeping, and there always ended up being extras. Upon your return home, he’d tell you to keep them. It wasn’t shocking, given that he found his way back every couple of days.

“Alright, come on.” You crouch down and position yourself beneath Cooper’s arm. 

You can tell he’s weak by the way he leans into you, knees wobbling relentlessly as you pull him up. Another round of coughing wracks his body and you squeeze him reassuringly. 

“Couch isn’t far.” You chose your words carefully, avoiding any inkling of pity. Having an already deteriorating Ghoul is enough, let alone a defensive one who hates being pitied. 

Cooper does his best to keep up with your steps, but his movements are sloppy and uncoordinated. You can feel the heat radiating off of him through his jacket and hear him wheezing beside your ear. Stepping onto the porch gives him some trouble, but you manage to haul him up and inside the door. Tiger whines nervously, circling the pair of you as you trek inside. The Ghoul collapses onto the couch as soon as it’s within reach. 

After making sure Cooper’s not going to slide off the couch, you continue to the med-kit in your makeshift kitchen. The Vials are hidden at the very bottom, wrapped in cloth for extra cushion to prevent shattering. You decide there’s more than enough for him to take two, and carefully extract the mysterious chem. 

Cooper’s laid out on his back when you return with the Vials. One arm is thrown over his eyes and the other dangling off the side of the couch with Tiger perched beneath. The dog nuzzles his favorite person’s hand for attention, and it elicits a chuckle from you. Even as the only conscious person in the room, you were still second in Tiger’s eyes. 

“Coop.” You shake his shoulder gently. “Hey. Hey. Where’s your inhaler?”

You nudge his hat away and he blinks slowly. “Mmm.”

“Ok then.” You mutter and pat down his jacket, searching for the contraption he always carries. The coat yields no results, and you pat down his pants until you feel it tucked away into the pocket at his hip. “Finally.”

Cooper shuffles ever so slightly when you slip your hand into his pocket. “H-hey now. I know you love me, baby, but I-I ain’t got it in me right now.”

An errant smile pushes its way onto your lips. You snap the meds into place on his inhaler 

“Open up.”

He fails to heed your instructions, and you ultimately end up forcing the inhalant into his mouth. It never works instantly, but within a minute or so of administering it there’s movement. One of Cooper’s hands lifts to cup yours, puffing on the inhaler again. 

You release your hold on it and rock back onto the balls of your feet. It’s then you take note of the holes in his clothing, and run a hand down his chest. There’s numerous holes, some as big as your finger and others no larger than a pinhead. 

“Cooper, what happened to you?” You sit on the edge of the couch beside him as he takes his first deep breath without Chems. 

“I just turn’d in a bounty and some Raiders jumped me.” He looks down at your hand on his chest. “Bastards shot me ten or eleven times. Damn buckshot got me good.”

You nod. “I can tell. You were in a bad way, Coop.”

The Ghoul sits up slowly beside you so his legs can swing off the couch. “I’ll be good as new, soon as this stuff starts workin’ good.” 

Tiger hops up on the couch next to him, tail wagging with excitement. The dog licks your cheek on his way to Cooper and pushes his nose into the Ghoul’s shoulder. You chuckle at the interaction, patting the dog’s shoulders. Coopers are still hunched with exhaustion, and his deep-set eyes look even more so. 

“Well until they do, you rest.” You stand, glancing out the still-ajar door. “It’s getting dark anyway.”

Cooper, as usual, opens his mouth to protest. If there’s anything he hates, it’s feeling useless. 

“No arguments.” You point a finger at him. “I mean it.”

He grumbles, but relents. “Fine. Only if you turn somethin’ on that ol’ TV of yours.”

The television turns out to be a perfect method of relaxation. You have to remove Cooper from the couch temporarily, but wrestle it into the pullout bed form and line it with blankets. The Ghoul had given in to his exhaustion rather easily at the prospect of a comfortable bed and kicked off his boots to climb all the way in. You hung his coat on a nail by the door, but made sure to leave his guns, lasso, and assorted weapons within arm’s reach. The TV played some old soap opera from before your time while you snagged a couple of hard candies- a luxury item, as the nearest settlement called them- and made to settle in. 

Cooper had managed to prop himself against the back of the couch, feet kicked out down the length of the thin mattress. Tiger, seeking attention as per usual, is curled up against his right leg. A wet nose rests just beneath Cooper’s knee and twitches in interest when you unwrap the first candy. 

The Ghoul might as well be a dog himself for the way his ears perk at the sound of a wrapper. 

He watches intently as you very gracefully clamber to sit next to him. You pop the fruit-flavored candy in your mouth and scoot around until you find comfort. In this case, it’s leaned up against the Ghoul beside you, head dropping onto his shoulder. His breathing is still shallower than you’d like, but a vast improvement from where it was when he’d shown up. 

“You ain’t gonna share?” 

You open your fist and offer up one of the candies. “I suppose I could. But only for you.”

A smirk twists the corners of his scarred lips. You poke at the candies and attempt to read the labels to no avail. 

“I’d offer you a choice of flavor, but…” You shrug, looking back up to your Ghoul. “Slim pickings.”

He lifts a bare hand to your chin, tilting up. “I think the pickin’s are just fine.”

You smile and lean in to meet him, lips falling into a familiar dance.The hand on your chin slides down to grip your nape and holds you firmly in place. It’s not long before the candy is gone from your mouth. Its remnants remain, mingling with the taste of gunpowder and smoke. A few moments pass before you decide to separate

“Miss me much?” You inquire, cuddling yourself down into his side. 

His arm raises to accommodate your body and lowers it back down to encircle your shoulders once you’re settled. “I always miss you darlin’. For a variety of reasons.”

You hum softly, “Yeah? Why’s that?”

Cooper’s hand trails up and down your arm, leaving wide trails of gooseflesh. “Well, the main one happens to be the lack of entertainment.”

You scoff. “I’m your entertainment?”

“Fuck yeah, you are. ‘Specially when you’re hollerin’ at scavengers and shootin’ anything that moves.” The Ghoul chuckles to himself. “Or trippin’ over a sleeping yao guai.”

You shove him playfully. “That was one time, and I shot it dead anyway.”

Cooper pulls you towards him, and you shift until you’re between his legs, back pressed against his chest. “That you did, sweetheart. I ain’t forgot.”

He grabs the nearest blanket and tosses it over your entangled bodies. You curl to the side and rest your cheek to his chest. Tiger shuffles his body with a huff, apparently frustrated with the lack of attention.

“What would you do without me?” You tap his chest gently, relishing in the warmth he produces. “Other than get eaten by a yao guai?”

The Ghoul scratches Tiger’s head. “Prolly go feral. Chase around some folk to scare em’.”

You know he’s joking, but the thought of losing him to ferality scares you to no end. Particularly since he’s just shown up on death’s door and almost hacked a lung onto your floor.

“Don’t say that.” You lift your head to catch his eye. “Please.”

Cooper may be a gruff old Ghoul with a dreadful outlook on the world, but he softens ever so slightly at your words.

“You know I don’t mean it, sugar. You’re stuck with me, whether you like it or not.”

Two scarred fingers hook beneath your jaw and pull you back up to his lips. It’s tame at first, but the Cooper you know wastes no time making an appearance. His teeth nip at your lip gently and one rough hand slides up your side until it cups your breast. You press into him eagerly, climbing upwards until your thighs slot around either side of his hips. He responds by grinding them into you, delicious friction warming you from head to toe.  

Tiger decides he’s disgusted at this point, and hops off the couch with a comical groan.

Unbothered, one of your hands latches onto the lasso that is tossed on top of his pile of weapons. You loop it around his neck, gripping either side of the rope and pulling him in. Cooper smirks against your mouth. 

“Oh I love being stuck with you, Cowpoke.” You whisper against his mouth, earning yourself a quick bite to the bottom lip.

The Ghoul grins and quickly shows how much strength he’s regained by reversing your positions. He snatches the rope faster than you can react, and wraps the fingers of one hand loosely around the column of your throat. There’s just enough pressure to shoot a pang of arousal between your legs. Cooper knows you’re squirming, and presses a knee there to relieve some of the ache. 

“Glad t’hear it.” He murmurs into your neck, “‘Cause I sure as hell ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

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

thanks for reading, much love ❤

Read More: Fallout Masterlist

[csainzoperator]

college bf! f1 drivers pt 1 ☆

summary: college bf! f1 drivers text messages with small written snippets based on the texts :)

warnings: fem pronouns, kys jokes, cursing, mentions of kissing, kissing, slightly suggestive, nicknames (baby, babe, love), typos (?)

read more below the cut !

charles leclerc

you grab a can of grape soda and search for a place to sit. you find a corner near the window, the fresh spring breeze rustling your hair. you sit down and wait patiently for charles. a few minutes later he's walking inside the canteen, towards you. he's smiling big and as soon as he reaches you, he grabs your face, placing chaste kisses on your cheek and lips.

"hey, baby" he greets you. you smile and reply "hi"

he takes a seat beside you and raises his eyebrows, like he's waiting for you to do something. you raise your eyebrows in return. he grumbles out a few words which you cannot decipher. you nudge him softly as you ask him to repeat. "i didn't get my kiss!" he says, rolling his eyes playfully.

"oh you big baby" you say as you grab his face a drop a few kisses on his cheek. your lipstick staining his cheek. you caress his cheek to wipe it away. "happy?" you question him. he nods, "very. afterall, i ditched my class to be here with you."

your smile fades a bit, feeling a little guilty as you had called him so abruptly. you shove him playfully, making him stand up "go back, the class would've just started. you can still make it"

he frowns. he shakes his head, "its not an important class, he's just doing some revision."

"revision is important! i just needed to see my boyfriend for a little boost. i'm good now. go!"

he reluctantly lets go. he places a kiss on your forehead and promises to come visit your dorm later in the evening. you smile up at him and reach for your soda, only to see it in charles' hand. he gives you a wink as he leaves, taking a sip from the can.

carlos sainz

the game had just ended, and you were so incredibly proud of your boyfriend. he had scored a goal for the team. the winning goal. you smiled in excitement, waiting for the team to let go of your boyfriend so you can congratulate him. he spots you standing nearby and excuses himself from his team mates. he walks over to you, picking you up as he reaches you.

you yelp in surprise and hold onto him tight. wrapping your arms around his neck, laughing. "congrats, baby. that was amazing!" he smiles brightly, kissing your cheek. "thank you, mia cara" he says. he puts you down gently and wraps his arms around you.

"you came" he says, kissing the side of your forehead.

"i wouldn't be anywhere else"

after a few seconds, you swat him away. "look at all that sweat. ugh get away from me" you complain, rolling your eyes playfully

he picks you up again, walking towards his car. "put me down, you sick fuck" you wrap your arms around him as he fastens his pace, making you laugh. "now i'm all sweat"

"gives us another reason to shower together" he says, a slight smirk making its way onto his face.

lewis hamilton

you pick your phone up as soon as you're done showering and putting on some comfortable clothes. you click on the face time button and set your phone up on the bed, pillows as the support. you wait for lewis to pick, which doesn't take long as he picks up in a couple of rings.

you smile at him "what's up, princess?" the words slip past you automatically, like you've said this to him a thousand times. which you have.

he grunts in mock annoyance. "come save me, i'm stuck here" he says, his face showing how he hated being in that party. you could hear loud snarky music in the background.

"i wish i could, i left my car for service" you smile at him apologetically. he groans and starts walking towards a balcony of some sort, or an open space. it was much more peaceful. you could hear him more clearly now.

"will you please stay with me on ft for a while? until my room mate decides to leave. which will be soon because he's drunk out of his mind." he says, sitting down on a stool. the night breeze making him shiver.

you spoke for a few minutes until his friend decided to leave. lewis said he'd be near your dorm after dropping his mate in the room. he said he desperately needed your hug.

george russell

you shared your live location with george. you were currently walking towards your dorm. you felt his strong cologne engulf you before his arms did. you smile as you walk with george, his arm draped around your waist. "well, hello there" you amuse.

"don't you ever scare me like that. do you know how much i died on the inside?" he questions you, giving your waist a squeeze. you kiss his cheek, hoping to calm his nerves. "i told you, baby! i fell asleep in the library. ms sanders woke me up. i was exhausted after that 12 page essay"

"its okay, i know. you need to rest, love. did you eat yet?" he questions, as you both enter your dorm.

you shake your head, "i had breakfast, slept through lunch"

he looks at you like you've grown two heads. he grabs your hand and starts walking towards the exit. you let out a chuckle "now where are we headed to, girl?"

he looks at you, giving you a mock glare. "girl? what happened to bf, love, baby, cutie?"

he tells you to wait near the exit. a few minutes later, he's there with his bike. he motions for you to hop on. you smile as you get on, getting comfortable behind him. "we are getting some food into that stomach of yours" he says, handing you your helmet.

you wrap your arms around his torso. you knew. you knew, even if he had the most important thing to do, he would drop it to look after you. not because you were his girlfriend. but because you were his priority. because you were important. and he was deeply, madly, desperately, messily in love with you.

max verstappen

you were in your university park, sitting under a tree. the guy you were supposed to be doing your political science project was doing anything but the project. you were not a patient person, and it was getting harder as the guy even kept touching your shoulder now and then.

to your rescue, your boyfriend was right there. he walked towards the both of you. he took his seat next to you, giving the guy a timid 'pls fuck of soon' smile. he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him. he sat there as you guys actually started to discuss your project.

the guy clearly didn't get the hint as he still tried to make contact with you now and then. the third time, max was done with all the utter bullshit that he was witnessing. he pulled you closer to him

"you know, i would really like it if you got your stupid ass hand off my girl" he says, making the guy frown in annoyance. within seconds, the guy is scurrying off.

you let out a delayed laugh. you look up at max. he shrugs, giving you an innocent smile. "you can't actually say that, max!"

he kisses your forehead, whispering "i just did, baby."

he brushes your arm near the place where the guy touched you. "what are you doing?" you question.

"dusting off his filthiness from you. maybe we should get back to my dorm. shower the filthiness off after i watch you finish on my face." he offers his reply. you shove him playfully. "you're the filthy one"

he stares, kissing your lips softly, mumbling, "you make me."

the end

an: had so much fun making these. hope u enjoy!

[sceletaflores]

working it out (on the remix)

pairing: art donaldson x patrick zweig x fem!reader summary: you sit in the angry silence, gears slowly turning in your head as you look between your boys. you should have known that this wasn't going to work, clearly just talking isn’t going to get the three of you anywhere.

—or: three tennis players walk into a hotel room.

word count: 5.5k contains: 18+ SMUT MDNI, swearing, smoking, fighting as foreplay, mean!reader my beloved, the patrick and art gay agenda, threesome, p in v, rough sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it y'all!), not quite hate sex more like angry sex, double penetration, oral sex (m!receiving), choking, finger sucking, degradation, creampies, lowkey sub!patrick coded, switch!art ofc, porn with a plot, no use of y/n. author’s note: oh em gee part three is here!!! i literally always say this but i had so much fun writing this one lol thank you so much for showing this series so much love right off the bat! i've loved loved loved reading all the ideas you guys have sent me for future chapters and trust when i say that i'll definitely be featuring as many as i can. okay bye! hope you love it! xoxo mwah.

tftw series masterlist!

Art is fuming. You keep glancing over at him to check that smoke isn't starting to blow out of his ears. It doesn't, but he's just as mad every time. Standing in the doorway huffing and puffing, arms crossed over his chest as he stares Patrick down from across the room. 

Patrick is the complete opposite, all relaxed body language and easy half-smiles as he coolly stares back. You’d make a fire and ice joke if you didn’t think it would send Art over the edge.

He’s sitting in the room’s single chair, window cracked open so he can smoke. He’s practically naked, wearing an unbuttoned long sleeve and the tiniest boxers you’ve ever seen. His bare feet are propped up on the corner of the bed you’re sitting on. 

You’re perched cross legged on the mattress, basically stuck in the middle of them.

You’re still surprised you even got Art to show up at all. You thought he almost flipped the table when you brought up Patrick at lunch, casually mentioning that you’ve been texting him for the past couple of days and you think the three of you need to talk. He was quiet for a long time before he finally asked if that meant Patrick was, has been, in town. You just shook your head yes.

You didn’t tell him you and Patrick slept together, you didn’t need to.

He went quiet again, stood up from his chair with an excuse of being late to class and stomped out of the dining hall. You texted him the address to Patrick’s hotel an hour later.

Art never responded, but his jeep was still waiting for you outside the biology building after your last lecture got out. He would always drive you back to your dorm since you’d get out so late, but this time he turned out of the campus lot and silently drove until you realized he was going to the hotel.

Now you’re here, and it's been almost ten minutes since you knocked on the door to Patrick’s room. And no one has said anything the entire time. No one has even moved, only Patrick every so often when he needs to flick his ashes out the window. A thick blanket of tense silence falls heavy over the three of you. It makes the room’s temperature feel that much hotter. The shitty air conditioner hums faintly in the background.

“So,” you say slowly, voice finally piercing through the quiet, “Am I gonna have to be the first to talk again or–”

“God, I don’t know,” Art cuts in tersely, not looking away from Patrick as he does, ”I can’t believe I don’t have anything to say to the guy that fucked my girlfriend.”

“Girlfriend?” Both you and Patrick ask sharply, opposing tones of shock and amusement blending together.

Art's eyes narrow, a storm brewing in the blue of them. He’s still looking at Patrick, talking about you like you’re not sitting right in front of him. "Yeah, my girlfriend. Did I stutter?" His chest is puffed out just enough for you to notice, his mouth pulled down at the corners in a deep frown.

You blink, caught off guard. Art’s never asked you to go steady with him, you’ve never even been on a date. Unless you count fucking in the back of his jeep at a drive in theater a date, then sure, you’ve been on one date. Regardless, the possessive timbre of his voice has something warm simmering under your skin.

Patrick laughs, loud and abrasive. “Well, this is fucking news to me,” he says through a chuckle, eyes flicking between the two of you bemusedly, “I didn’t realize you guys were playing house, but that does makes a lot more sense now.” He gestures to your chest with his free hand, pointing out the dark blue sweatshirt you’re wearing.

‘Mark Rebellato Tennis Academy’ is stitched across the front in thin black thread; you'd stolen it from Art’s closet when you slept over at his dorm a few nights ago. He never asked for it back.

“It’s cute that you kept my shirt, Donaldson.” Patrick teases, lolling his head to the side lazily so he can look at Art through his lashes. A plume of smoke billows from between his lips, slipping through the open window slowly. “Even after you tried to turn my girlfriend against me and fucked her behind my back first–”

“Fuck you, Patrick–” Art starts, face twisted in a scowl. His hands ball into fists at his side, jaw ticking with anger.

Patrick doesn’t look deterred, leaning forward in his chair as he tries to talk over Art, “You’re such a fucking hypocrite–”

“I’m not anyone’s girlfriend,” you cut them both off, brows drawn together in frustration, “—and I’m not going to let this turn into some weird pissing contest between you two. We’re here to talk.”

Art scoffs agitatedly, casting his eyes to the ceiling. “Looks like the two of you have done plenty of talking without me,” he says bitterly. “Do you get off on this shit or something? On sticking your dick where it doesn’t fucking belong?”

Patrick smirks, leaning back in his chair, arms draped lazily over the armrests. “God, you really do think you’re innocent in this,” he laughs incredulously, leaning back in his chair. “You’re acting like you’ve got some moral high ground, but you don’t. You’re just as guilty of playing the game as I am.”

Art’s face darkens further, anger threatening to boil over. “This isn’t a game to me, Patrick,” he spits, tone hard and low, “I’m so sick of you treating everything like a goddamn joke.”

Patrick’s smirk doesn’t falter. “I never said it was a joke,” he says with a shrug, tone easy and nonchalant. “I’m just saying, maybe you should take a good look in the mirror before you start pointing fucking fingers. I’m not the only one who’s played dirty here.”

“Patrick–” you warn, sitting up straighter. You can feel the way the air changes, the way the animosity gets turned up. The last thing you need is for them to start throwing punches.

Art cuts you off, shaking his head in contempt. “You’re so full of shit. You don’t fucking care about her. You never did. You just want to win, because you can’t stand the thought of losing to me.”

Patrick groans loudly, throwing his head back with it. “We’re really going back to this again? Jesus Christ, give it up man. It’s not like she was ever really yours to begin with.” He takes another slow drag from his cigarette, eyes never leaving Art.

The jab hits its mark, you can see it on Art’s face. In the way he physically recoils, the way he takes a ragged breath through his nose, the way the muscles of his jaw work furiously. For the first time since you fucked Patrick, you feel like a fucking bitch. The familiar feeling of guilt wraps its tendrils around you, weighing you down into the mattress like a physical force.

It gives you an idea, the guilt. It's a filthy idea, one that has heat stirring between your legs at just the thought. It’s a good way to make this whole situation up to Art, a good way to let him get under Patrick’s skin the same way he’s getting under his.

You sit in the angry silence, gears slowly turning in your head as you look between your boys. You should have known that this wasn't going to work, clearly just talking isn’t getting the three of you anywhere.

You sigh, overly dramatic and long suffering, scooting down until your legs are hanging over the edge of the mattress. Art and Patrick watch you the entire time, eyes finally leaving each other to watch your hands settle on the hem of Patrick’s sweatshirt.

“You guys are being so difficult. Why did I think that you could behave enough to talk this out like big boys?” You tug it off in one swift move, tossing it to the side carelessly. Two sharp gasps ring out, two sets of greedy eyes roam the bare expanse of your torso. You hadn’t worn a bra today.

You smirk, standing from the mattress and hooking your thumbs in the waistband of your sweats. You push them down your legs slowly, making a show of it until you're only in the pair of light purple panties you slipped on this morning. Patrick smirks, flicking his cigarette butt out the window and yanking it closed. He goes to stand, Art pointedly takes a single threatening step forward as he does but you stop both of them in their tracks. 

“No.” Your voice rings through the small room, loud and commanding. Patrick sits back down almost immediately, his brow raising in confusion. Art does the same, freezing with one foot in front of him. They’re both hard, cocks tenting the fabric of their bottoms. Their boners point towards each other, you bite your lip to hide your smile. 

“You’ve been so bad, Ricky.” you scold softly, voice syrupy sweet as you lean back on the bed. “Dressed up like an easy whore in here waiting for us, being so mean to Art, fucking his girl…” You trail off boredly, palms braced flat on the bed behind you so you can lean back as casually as you can muster. You let your legs fall open, spread enough to let Patrick and Art see the wet spot slowly seeping into the fabric.

You can hear Art’s sharp inhale from across the room at your words, his girl. You’re still careful not to say girlfriend, that’s a whole other talk. Patrick squirms in his chair, practically itching with the need to say something. You level him with a hard look, a firm shake of your head keeps him quiet. When you finally turn your attention to Art, he meets your gaze easily, eyes already blown out and glassy. Even from here you can see the way his pupils swallow the pretty blue color.

You smile, lips curling up in a wicked smile. “Art,” you coo softly, reaching your hand out in offering, “come here.” 

Art’s walking towards you without a second thought, crossing the room in just a few large steps. You smile at him, patting the spot next to you. The bed creaks as he sits down, the mattress dipping under his weight slides you closer to him. ”I think,” you say slowly, resting your hand high up on his thigh, so close to the hard line of his cock straining against the fabric, “that we need to teach Patrick a lesson on manners.”

“What! No fucking way, that’s bullshi–” Patrick fusses from the corner, sitting up straighter in seat, the armrest gripped tight in his left hand.

“Shut the fuck up,” you snap, whipping your head to the side to glare at him. “This isn’t about you.”

He frowns, pushing out his bottom lip like an actual child. You just barely fight the urge to roll your eyes, an evil smile spreading across your face as you watch him honest-to-God pout.

“This is about Art,” you slide your hand up higher, cupping him through his loose shorts. You can hear his sharp intake of breath, a quiet ‘fuck’ falls from his lips as you apply more pressure to where your hand is steadily rubbing him up and down. “Plus, you’re already in the cuck chair,” you aren’t able to stop the small chuckle that falls from your lips, “you’ve got a perfect view.”

His pink lips part ever so slightly, eyes going wide and hungry at your words. You throw him one last devilish smile before you’re sinking to your knees in front of the bed. The scratchy carpet digs into your knees but you don’t care, not when Art is towering in front of you with the ceiling lights shining around him like he’s an angel.

You smile up at him, dragging the palms of your hands up and down his thighs. “Take your shirt off,” you encourage, slipping your hands up to toy with the hem of his shorts.

He complies beautifully, pulling his shirt up and over his head and tossing it aside, revealing the lean, toned muscles of his torso. You let your eyes linger on him for a moment, appreciating the sight before returning your attention to your task. Your fingers deftly undo the drawstring of his shorts, and start tugging them down. Art lifts his hips enough for you to drag them all the way down his legs, taking his boxers with them to free his hard cock.

Again, you slide your hands up the bare skin of his thighs, inches away from where he wants them. He’s so hard, cock standing straight up in an angry red line against his stomach. The tip drools pre-cum that leaks down the length of him slowly.

Art's breath hitches, his eyes locked onto you with a mix of anticipation and desperation. Your fingers brush lightly over his upper thighs, before you wrap your hand around the base of his cock, feeling the heat of his arousal pulse against your palm. His gasp is sharp, and you silently revel in the power you hold over him in this moment.

You glance over at Patrick, who is staring wide-eyed, his earlier irritation replaced with a raw, unfiltered hunger.

Your lips curl into a smug smile at the sight of his flushed cheeks and the way his chest rises and falls with each heavy breath. “See something you like, Patrick?” you taunt, giving Art a slow, deliberate stroke that has him groaning softly. Patrick’s eyes narrow, his jaw clenching, but he stays silent, his gaze locked on the two of you.

Art's hands grip the sheets beneath him, his knuckles turning white. "Fuck," he breathes out, his voice strained, "you're killing me."

You laugh softly, a dark, melodic sound, and lean forward, letting your tongue flick out to taste the bead of precum at the tip of his cock. Art moans, the sound vibrating through you. You glance up at him through your lashes, seeing the way his head tilts back, his eyes half-lidded in pleasure.

You slide your lips up the length of his leaking cock, teasing and slow. Art stares down at you, not breaking eye contact as he breathes raggedly through his nose.

“Tell him how it feels,” you whisper against the pink tip of his cock, sliding it back and forth across your lips teasingly. Art swallows hard, skin flushing in embarrassment.

“So good…” he whispers, eyes still locked onto yours. His blush goes from his cheeks all the way down to his chest, spreading pink and warm across the strong muscle of his pecs.

You smile, shaking your head softly. “Don’t tell me, tell him.” You jerk your head in Patrick’s direction once before you sink down until your nose is nestled against the soft blonde hair at the base of his cock, working your throat around the length of him. 

Art moans loudly, his hands coming up to tangle into your hair. You keep going, fighting his grip on you as you start to bob your head over his cock in a steady rhythm, working your hand in time with your mouth.

He forces himself to look at Patrick, catching his eyes.

Patrick looks fucked, lips slick and dropped open as he stares back Art, hungry gaze not wavering. His cock is still hard, pressed against the seam of his boxers and leaking a steady patch of wetness around the head. 

A silent challenge seems to pass between the two of them.

We doing this or what?

Art refuses to back down, hardening his resolve. “Feels so fucking good,” he groans, not looking away from Patrick, “her throat’s so tight, so– God, it’s so good. Best I’ve ever had.”

He’s rambling, not even making any sense but you hum in approval all the same, your tongue curling around the crown. Patrick doesn’t look like he minds too much either, pink tongue coming out to swipe along his bottom lip. "Please," he whispers, almost too quiet to hear. "Let me..."

You pull off Art with a wet pop, turning your head as best you can with his hand still tangled in your hair to fix Patrick with a steely gaze. "You don't get to make requests," you say, your voice hard. "You get to watch and learn."

Patrick's eyes darken, his lips pressing into a thin line, but he doesn't protest. Art lets out a low growl, his hand tightening its grip on your hair and dragging your mouth back to his cock.

“Stop fucking talking to him,” he demands, hips thrusting to fuck back into your mouth. You choke on the sudden fullness, wetness floods your panties as you moan around him.

Yes, you think, eyes squeezing close as you force your throat to relax around his cock, this is what I wanted.

You were waiting to see how long it’d take Art to snap, he lasted longer than you thought he would. The head of his cock punches against the soft, spongy part at the back of your throat. You fight to not gag around him, hands scrambling for purchase on his thighs. His balls slap against your chin roughly, sticking wetly to the drool that's starting to fall from the corners of your lips.

Art meets Patrick’s eye again, a smug smirk on his face as he jerks his head in a clear invitation, “Come here.” He grunts simply, dragging you up and down the length of his cock by his tight grip on your hair.

Patrick practically sprints from the chair, ripping his shirt off while he tries to kick his boxers off before he reaches the bed. He sits next to Art, chest heaving as he stares down at where your lips stretched obscenely over his best friend's cock. 

Art pulls you off by your hair, holding your face a few inches away from his spit covered cock. He tuts at you sympathetically, tilting his head to the side with a tiny frown at the sight of you all teary eyed. “Bet you feel real empty, right?” he asks sadly, shaking your head back and forth like a dog. “That greedy pussy wants our cocks stretching her open, doesn't she?”

You whine loudly, nodding your head as best you can as the meaning of Art’s words sink over you. You feel far away, like you’ve already been fucked six ways to Sunday. You cunt clenches around nothing, aching for Art and Patrick’s cocks bullying their way inside you. You’ve never done anything like that before, taken two guys at once, but God do you need it.

Art nods back, brows pulled together in faux pity. “Pat and I will help baby,” he says sweetly, “You just gotta get nice and stretched out first, need to fuck yourself open on Patrick’s cock so you can take us.”

“Fuck yeah,” Patrick breathes, already moving up the bed to lay flat on his back agasint the pillows. His cock sticking straight out from his body, pointing to the ceiling desperately.

Art lets go of your hair, cupping the side of your face tenderly. His thumb rubs against the soft skin of your cheekbone a few times, you know it’s a question. 

Do you want this?

You smile, nuzzling his palm and giving his thumb a playful nip. The answer to his question written all over your face.

Fuck yes.

Art smiles back, nodding his head once. You take the hint, rising from your knees to climb onto the mattress. You slide your panties off, tossing them aside as you crawl up the length of Patrick’s body, straddling his hips and wasting no time in sinking down on his cock.

Art settles next to the two of you, hand loosely gripped around his cock as he starts to lazily stroke himself to the sight of you and Patrick.

“Fuck!” Patrick hisses, his hands coming up to grip your hips fiercely as you start to ride him, not giving either of you anytime to adjust. The stretch burns, the lack of prepping before hand makes it sting. You don’t mind, too worked up to care. 

“God, you’re such a fucking slut,” He tries, but you cut him off bringing your free hand to wrap around the column of his throat just like he did to you back in the shower.

“You’re the slut,” you growl, fingers digging into his skin roughly. His eyes widen, plush lips going slack. You speed your hips up, the loud smack each time you drop down onto him echoes through the room. “You’re the easy fucking whore that soaked your panties watching your best friend fuck my throat."

Art huffs out a breath, hand slipping over his cock faster as he watches you ride Patrick. His eyes are trained on the way your hand is wrapped against Patrick’s throat. He slips his free hand down, pressing two fingers against Patrick’s cock so you slide down onto them on the next bounce.

“Fuck!” You keen loudly, grip tightening on Patrick’s throat. Art’s fingers add to the sting of your cunt, but your hips don’t stop moving, even as he slips in a third just as fast.

You get lost in it, in the feeling of Patrick’s dick fucking into you so deeply you swear he’s hitting your cervix with every roll of your hips, Art’s fingers stretching you that much wider.

Suddenly, Art drops his cock so his free hand can latch onto your hips, his strong grip forcing you to stop your desperate bouncing. His fingers slip out of you, you immediately miss the stretch.

Patrick groans in displeasure, his hips buck up like he’s trying to slide back into the warmth of your fucked open cunt. His leaking head bumps against your sensitive clit a few times before Art’s dropping his hand down, gripping Patrick’s cock to line it up with his own.

Art slides up behind you, his sweaty chest pressing firmly against your back. “Should be stretched out enough,” He whispers into the nape of your neck, pressing both tips against your fluttering hole.

The shock of it has your hand slipping off Patrick’s throat to anchor onto his shoulders in a feeble attempt to brace yourself. He sucks in large gasps of air, chest heaving as he stares down to where his cock is pressed snug against Art’s, his hand big enough to almost wrap around them both. He throws his head back against the pillows, eyes screwed shut, “Fuck, I can’t watch,” he gasps, voice low and ragged. 

Art laughs smugly, but it’s breathy around the edges and you can feel the way his hand shakes on your hip. “Close already, Pat?” He asks condescendingly, as his fingers dig in a little tighter. “You’re not even doing any of the work.”  

You try to focus on the sensation of Art’s grip, but your mind is a haze of overstimulation and the throb of Patrick’s cock against you. Art’s mocking tone sends a shiver down your spine, making you acutely aware of how close you are to the edge yourself. Your greedy cunt clenches around them, trying to suck them in you.

Patrick’s breath stutters, his hips jerking up involuntarily, making a strangled noise that’s half-groan, half-whimper. “Fuck you, man,” he manages to grind out, but his voice is trembling and strained, the bite in his tone gets undercut by how wrecked he sounds. You can feel the barely there twitches of his hips, like he’s physically pained from having to wait any longer.

A sharp cry rips from your throat as they finally start to slide in, both heads popping into your tight hole all at once. Your eyes screw shut at the stretch, thighs shaking where they’re spread over Patrick’s hips.

“Someone kiss me,” you gasp desperately, chin lowering to your chest. Art’s moving before the words finish leaving your mouth, gripping a fistful of Patrick’s hair and dragging him up to your lips. You whine into his mouth, letting his tongue slide between your lips to claim your mouth.

The familiar feeling of his lips on yours relaxes you the tiniest bit, letting Art lower you down a few more inches. It feels like hours as you sink onto them, Art’s big hands gently massaging your hips while Patrick’s greedy fingers pull and paw at your thighs.

It’s the quietest you’ve ever heard Patrick. His lips going slack in awe against yours as Art’s cock slides up next to his, moaning into your mouth when your hips go flush with his.

They feel so huge inside you, so thick you swear you can feel them in your stomach. Bullying your insides into making more room for the both of them.

“Fuck," you gasp, nails digging little crescent moons into Patrick’s shoulders. Every inch of you is alive with sensation, a burning mix of pleasure and pain. Art’s breath is hot and ragged against your ear, whispering sweet encouragements, “It’s okay baby, you’re okay, taking us so fucking good–” 

You nod, slowly starting to grind your hips back and forth, gasping when they rub up against the soft spot inside of you that has you clenching in pleasure– practically choking them off at the base. A high moan falls from your lips, hips swirling the tiniest bit faster that have both Art and Patrick growl out matching groans of approval.

“Just like that,” Art whispers into your ear, his breath hot and ragged. “Gonna make him come first, or are you gonna beat him to it?” The challenge in his voice sends a jolt of heat through you, your thighs starting to shake with every pass of them over that spot.

“God, ah! Art– fuck, mh, Patrick–” You slur, head already starting to go fuzzy

“Fuck,” Art gasps out your name sharply, pushing you down onto Patrick’s chest so he can start fucking into your loose, sloppy cunt. “God, you’re so fucking tight,” his hand grips the back of your neck to pin you down, throwing all his strength behind the snap of his hips.

“Shit, look at you,” Patrick chuckles weakly pinching your hips hard, trying to seem less affected than he really is. “You’re so fucking gone. All that attitude needs is some dick to fix it, huh?”

You crack your eyes open, blearily searching until you zero in on his face. He’s smiling smugly, eyes blown out and hazy.

“Shut the fuck up,” you spit weakly, raising your hand to shove your index and middle finger between his parted lips. You push back far enough to feel his throat constricting against your fingers, letting him gag on you. Your eyes trace the side of his face, down the slope of his nose to where his cherry red lips are lewdly spread around your fingers. 

You can distantly hear Art groan behind you, his hips speeding up impossibly faster. His hand squeezes your neck, fingers digging into your sensitive skin meanly. You hook your fingers behind Patrick’s teeth, dragging his face to the side to meet your eye. Patrick moans around your fingers, gazing at you pleading through half lidded eyes. Drool leaks from the corners of his mouth and down his chin, drenching your wrist. His hot, wet tongue sliding along the pads of your fingers feels scalding.

Patrick's hands are everywhere, pulling, pinching, caressing, his touch a maddening mix of rough and tender. The feeling of him inside you, alongside Art, is almost too much to bear, making you gasp for breath. Your moans are a symphony of pleasure and desperation, each one a plea for more, more, more the closer you get the edge.

“Shit, ah, Art, ah!” Your feet scrabbled uselessly against the sheets, the fingers of your free hand twist Patrick’s hair roughly. “I’m gonna come— Mm, ah! I’m gonna—”

“Do it,” Art goads, the rhythm of his hips not faltering, “Come on baby– fuck yeah– fucking soak these dicks–”

Your mouth falls open in a silent scream as you come, your vision whites out around you as the entire world shrinks down to the stretch of your gushing cunt around Art and Patrick. The slight burn of them, the fullness, the unrelenting pace of Art’s hips stinging the skin of your ass on each thrust. 

Patrick bites down on your fingers with a broken whine just as Art sinks his teeth into your neck, both of them groaning so loud it’s all you can hear. That and the faulty rhythm of Art’s hips snapping against the meat of your ass in loud ‘cracks’. 

They come together, and you can feel it.

You can feel every twitch and jerk of their cocks inside you as they spray the walls of your cunt with their releases. Spurt after spurt of hot come claiming you as theirs, filling you to the brim. Art doesn’t stop, working the three of you through your orgasms. Each thrust fucks more of their come out of you, the lewd squelch of it leaking from of your loose hole to gather around the base of their cocks in two matching creamy rings makes your ears burn.

Just as it gets to be too much, when the pleasure starts to give way into biting overstimulation, Art stops. You’re slumped against Patrick, shaking like a leaf when Art starts to pull out as gently as he can. You hiss when the head of his cock slips out, thighs clenching together.

“Sorry,” he whispers sweetly, giving your shoulder a gentle kiss. He practically man handles you off of Patrick’s cock, lifting your hips up and off of him.

Patrick groans, stomach twitching in oversensitivity as your slick walls slide against his spent dick. Finally he slips out, his drenched cock falling to slap onto his stomach. There come rushes out of you, dripping sticky and thick down your inner thighs. 

There’s sweat dripping down your temple when you fall onto the mattress, your back sticks to the sheets but you’re too out of it to care. Art collapses next to you, sandwiching you between him and Patrick. The three of you are quiet, chests heaving as you catch your breath. Patrick’s hairy thigh is pressed to yours, firm and toned. Art’s got an arm slung over your waist, his breath puffs hot against your neck.

“It doesn’t have to be one or the other,” you say breathlessly, voice raspy and hoarse. “It could work. We could make it work, the three of us.”

Art and Patrick are quiet, their silence heavy with contemplation. You keep your eyes trained on the ceiling, more nervous bringing this up than you thought you’d be. The room is filled with the sounds of your collective breaths, mingling with the lingering scent of sweat and sex.

Patrick chuckles, you can feel his curls brushing against your shoulder as he shakes his head in dry amusement. "Yeah, because everything about this screams 'healthy relationship,'" he quips, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

Art lets out a soft, exasperated sigh, his grip on your waist tightening just a little. "We don't have to decide anything right now," he says, his voice low and steady. "Let's just...see where this goes."

You feel a rush of relief at his words, but Patrick’s hesitancy still gnaws at the edges of your mind. Patrick shifts beside you, his hand skirting lightly over your arm in a rare moment of tenderness.

"Guess we're in uncharted territory, huh?" he murmurs, his tone uncharacteristically serious. 

You laugh, finally daring to glance at both of them, a tentative smile forming on your lips. "Yeah, but maybe that's not such a bad thing."

Art and Patrick look back at you with matching grins wide enough to show their teeth, blonde and black hair fanning around their faces like halo’s under the room’s shitty fluorescent light. Your heart swells under the intense stare of two pairs of eyes, one blue and one green. You can feel the room start to fade away until it’s just the three of you and nothing else seems to matter.

Art leans down, giving your right shoulder a quick kiss. “If we’re doing this, we have to be honest with each other.” He looks between you and Patrick pointedly, but he’s still smiling. “No more bullshit games.”

Patrick snorts, letting his head fall back onto the pillows, “Yes sir.” 

You nod, not bothering to hide your smile. "No bullshit, no games," you agree, moving to squeeze Art's hand. He squeezes back in a silent promise.

The three of you lie there in a comfortable silence, the weight of your decision settling over you. It's definitely not going to be easy, but maybe, just maybe, it could work.

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[buckymorelikefuckme]

cry baby

bucky barnes x fem reader

words: 7.3k

warnings: **18+ ONLY** smut, edging, overstimulation, crying during sex, mentions of flushed cheeks, friends to lovers, misunderstandings, lapslock.

a/n: this is arguably one of my absolute fave fics i've ever written. she is near and dear to my heart :') i've provided the link for ao3 if you prefer to read it there! it's originally posted in two parts but i've combined them here. any and all mistakes are mine. feedback is encouraged & appreciated ♡

“the boys are running late,” natasha informs you when you make your way to the table she’s conquered in the busy cafe. “sam texted a couple minutes ago and said he and bucky got stuck in traffic.”

it’s the second tuesday of the month, which means it’s brunch day. it’s a running tradition that’s stood for the four of you since your college days. the time and place has changed over the years, but everyone does their absolute best to attend every time. these tuesdays are your favorite, naturally.

you plop into an empty chair across from her with a heavy sigh. “good, that means i have time to bitch about how fucking horny i am before they get here.”

she snorts, taking a delicate sip of her latte. “what’s new?” she wonders sarcastically.

“you don’t understand,” you begin, leaning into the table, gripping the edge tightly. “it’s been months, and not like, a few, i mean it’s coming up on a year.”

natasha’s eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “a year? what about that guy you went on a few dates with a while back? didn’t anything happen with him?”

“no,” you grumble, sitting back in your chair and crossing your arms. you huff. “and even if something had happened, i doubt it would have been satisfying. i can probably count on one hand the amount of times sex has been even kinda pleasurable for me.”

“sounds like you’re picking shitty partners.”

you scowl. “i know that, but it’s not my fault. all these stupid men keep promising they’re gonna fuck me ten ways to sunday and not a single one of them can even get me to wednesday.”

natasha laughs. “you poor thing.”

“you’re really not helping me here,” you whine with a pitiful pout on your lips. “you are getting routine dickings, you have sam! i am not so lucky here.” you notice her attention flicks to somewhere behind you, but you’re not finished with your rant. “nat, i’m serious. all of my sex encounters are the equivalent of asking someone to scratch my back and then they scratch literally anywhere but the spot that itches. i want to be fucked so good that i cry, just—completely reduced to tears. is that too much to ask?”

nat is hiding her smile behind her hand, amusement painted across her sharp features. someone clears their throat behind you and you pinch the bridge of your nose. sam and bucky occupy the empty seats, sam next to natasha and bucky next to you. they’re both sporting wide grins, looking far too pleased about stumbling into this conversation.

sam opens his mouth, no doubt to make a smartass comment, but you cut him off before he can get a good inhale in.

“not a fucking word,” you grouse with a finger pointed in his direction.

he presses a hand to his chest, expression offended. “i would never make a joke about your truly tragic excuse of a sex life.”

bucky snickers quietly, but turns into a cough at your glare.

“i’ll murder you,” you promise.

“leave her alone, boys,” natasha says, rolling her eyes, though she’s visibly biting back her own laughter.

you huff, digging your wallet out of your purse. “i hate all of you,” you announce before getting up and going to stand in line to order.

bucky follows a moment later, coming to stand at your side and throwing an arm around your shoulders.

“that bad, huh?” he asks.

you don’t have to look at his face to know he’s probably smirking right now.

“fuck off,” you retort, not bothering to push his arm away since you know he’d only put it right back.

“aw, come on, don’t be like that,” he jests, “you know we just like to poke a little fun.”

you roll your eyes, throwing him an exasperated look. “yeah, but that was something only nat was supposed to hear. i hate talking about sex with you and sam because you two wouldn’t understand.”

“that’s not true,” bucky insists, which makes you roll your eyes again. “it’s not!”

“first of all, sam’s got natasha, so we both know they’re more than satisfied.” bucky tilts his head in acquiescence. “and you don’t have to worry about if you’re gonna have an orgasm when you hook up with somebody. men have it so easy.”

it’s probably not the best thing to talk about in line of a busy cafe (especially since you haven’t decided between a blueberry muffin or the ham and cheese croissant, and there’s only one person ahead of you now and you’d really rather not be discussing your lack of sex in front of an innocent barista) but it sort of feels good to get this off your chest, even if it’s to bucky.

“okay, definitely not true,” he replies with a frown. “i’m not always guaranteed an orgasm.”

you give him a skeptical glance. “i find that hard to believe.”

this time, it’s bucky who rolls his eyes. “whatever, whether or not i come when i have sex with someone isn’t what i was gonna talk about when i came over here.”

the person in front of you finishes their order and then you’re stepping up for your turn.

“hi, what can i get you today?” the young barista asks with a smile.

“a large mocha iced coffee with sweet cream and a blueberry muffin, please.” you pause, contemplating, then add, “and a ham and cheese croissant.”

if you can’t get fucked within an inch of your life then food will become your lover, you reason.

“just a black coffee for me, please,” bucky tells the girl, taking his wallet out of his back pocket and handing over his card to pay before you can stop him.

“i could’ve paid for mine,” you mumble.

“you also could just say thank you,” he replies with a short laugh as he ushers you to the side to wait for your order.

you pinch his hip, pouting. “thank you.”

“why does your gratitude come with violence?” he asks, rubbing the sore spot.

“you know how i am when people do nice things for me.”

“you should be used to it by now,” he points out.

“well, i’m not,” you huff. “anyway, what did you come over here to talk about then?”

bucky reaches up to scratch the back of his neck, uncharacteristically shy all the sudden. “uh, well. i dunno, i just thought… you know, since you’re not—i mean, not that you couldn’t be, just—you haven’t been, so maybe… fuck.”

“spit it out,” you say with a giggle, wondering what in the world’s got him so tongue-tied.

“why don’t you let me?” he blurts, averting his gaze immediately after.

you tilt your head in confusion. “let you what?”

he sighs heavily, working his jaw in frustration. “you know…” he begins, digging his thumbnail into a knick on the countertop in front of you. “let me fuck you until you cry.”

“what?”

just then, your order is called. bucky quickly grabs it and turns to make his way back to the table, but you grab his arm to stop him.

“i don’t think so, you come back here right now and explain yourself,” you demand.

his eyes lift heavenward. “it’s just an idea, okay?”

“bucky, you’re talking about crossing a huge line. you can’t just throw that out all willy nilly!”

“i know,” he replies earnestly. “and it’s not—“ he grimaces at the phrasing, “willy nilly. you’re one of my best friends. i wouldn’t jeopardize that for anything, and i wouldn’t offer this if i thought that it could. this is something that’s obviously affecting you negatively in your life and i’m willing to help. i trust you, and i’m pretty sure you trust me, yeah?”

“of course i trust you,” you say, frowning.

he shrugs. “so, then it’s just… a friend helping another friend.”

“you make it sound so simple,” you muse in wonder.

“think about it?” he implores.

you swallow roughly, biting the inside of your cheek. “fine. i’ll think about it.”

he nods and walks back over to the table where sam and natasha are waiting. you hesitate for only a split second before following.

needless to say, you’re distracted for the rest of brunch.

***

you: what even makes you think you could fuck me until i cry anyway?

it’s been nearly a week, and as much as you hate to admit it, you’re actually considering taking bucky’s offer. it’s all you can think about since he brought it up. you can’t lie, you’ve always thought bucky was attractive, but ever since you were gently but firmly placed in the friend category back in university, you never allowed yourself to think of there ever being more between the two of you. he’s a wonderful friend to have and you’d have been an idiot to pass it up. bucky is kind and generous and just enough of an asshole to keep things interesting without it being a problem.

but this… this has left you reeling. why would he make such an offer after only ever keeping things strictly friendly and platonic in your relationship? and more importantly, where does he get the confidence to think he could follow through?

bucky: experience?

you make a face at your phone, furiously typing your reply.

you: ew. do you realize how douchey that sounds?

bucky: well, it’s not douchey if it’s true.

you: says you

bucky: and a few other people :)

bucky: you’d know it too if you’d let me fuck you

you exhale harshly through your nose, tapping your foot on the floor anxiously, carefully thinking of what you should say next.

you: it’s apparently a tall request, and thus far, nobody’s been able to deliver. you can understand my skepticism…

bucky: if i don’t leave you shivering and twitching with aftershocks of pleasure, in a mess of sweat and come, and tears stained on your cheeks, then i will have failed you.

your thighs squeeze together at the mental image that brings you. jesus christ, if he’s half as good at fucking as he is dirty talking then he just might do as he’s promising.

bucky: so? what do you say? wanna give it a try?

biting your lip, you give yourself a moment to weigh the pros and cons in your mind one last time.

it doesn’t take you very long to make your decision.

you: okay. we’ll try.

***

it’s a slightly overcast sunday when bucky comes over with the direct intention to fuck you. it should be weird, but strangely, all you feel is anticipation. maybe it’s because you know him so well and know that, no matter what, he’d take care of you.

(or, maybe it’s because those repressed college-aged feelings are doing their best to resurface, even though you steadfastly continue to ignore them.)

you’d taken a thorough shower earlier to ease the little bit of nerves you had when you’d woken up. cleaning up the small mess your apartment gathered over the last couple weeks helped, as well, and soon you found yourself standing in front of your lingerie drawer with your lips pursed.

you weren’t sure if you should even bother with it, but it felt you wouldn’t be putting in any effort into this encounter if you didn’t at least pick out nice underwear. so, with a pleased nod, you settle on some simple black lace panties and a matching bralette. not too much, but enough to satisfy yourself, and hopefully bucky. you pick out a simple sundress to put on over it, since you won’t be wearing much of anything once bucky gets here. that thought has you flushing, but you ignore it to put on some makeup, just to freshen up your face.

by the time he knocks on your door, you’ve already finished a glass of wine and are pouring yourself a second.

he smiles when open the door, a bit boyishly, greeting you with a quiet, “hi.”

“hi,” you return, just as soft. you open the door wider. “come in.”

he walks passed you, stopping to toe his shoes off and hang his jacket on one of the hooks.

“do you want a glass of wine?” you ask as you head to the kitchen to retrieve your own from the counter.

bucky follows, stopping in the entryway with his hands in his pockets. “no, thank you.”

you nod, taking a sip from your glass, trying to figure out what to say. the air feels a little awkward and you’re not sure how to fix it.

“nervous?” he wonders curiously.

you shake your head. “not really.”

he quirks a brow. “then what’s wrong?”

“i don’t know,” you murmur. “i guess i’m just worried we’re making a mistake.”

he hums. you take a larger sip of your wine.

with cautious steps, he comes closer to you. “what if i promise that things won’t be weird after?”

“you can’t really promise that, though.”

“sure i can,” he says, smiling. “it’s me and you. we’ve been friends for so long. plenty of people have sex and stay friends after.”

you’re not just ‘people’ to me, you think.

you sigh, frustrated with yourself. you can’t deny how badly you want this. it’s all you’ve been able to think about since that day in the cafe. but the thought of losing bucky is heartbreaking, and you don’t want your stupid horniness to be the reason that you ruin a friendship, even if he was the one to offer sex.

“why don’t we go make out on the couch for a little while first?” he suggests after a moment’s pause.

you snort, in spite of your thoughts. “like a couple of teenagers?”

his eyes crinkle on the sides when he grins. “yeah. we’ll just see how we feel about that, and if it leads to more, then…” he trails off, shrugging.

“that’s not a bad idea,” you concede.

“great! finish your wine.”

you laugh and do as you’re told, downing the little remaining wine in one go, sitting the glass down on the counter resolutely as you swallow.

“let’s do this,” you say, determined.

bucky huffs a laugh, grabbing your wrist and tugging you behind him as he makes his way to the couch. he settles slightly facing you as you tuck your legs under you beside him.

“do you wanna talk, or do you want to jump straight into it?”

“if we talk anymore i’m gonna change my mind. just kiss me already, bucky.”

“yes ma’am,” he sasses before doing exactly that.

he cups your cheek with one hand as the other is placed on your knee. he guides your face to his and kisses you chastely. you’re not sure where to put your hands at first, but you tell yourself to quit being a goober about it and place them on either side of his neck, your thumbs brushing under his jaw.

it’s an okay kiss, you have to admit, but it’s not really doing anything for you yet. he has soft lips, softer than you thought they’d be. you’re beginning to wonder if maybe this confirms you shouldn’t go any further when he tilts his head, and… hm.

he parts his lips, taking your bottom one between his, kissing it, then nipping it. you wouldn’t say the sound you make is a gasp, necessarily, but it’s close. his tongue lightly caresses the seam of your mouth and you don’t even think before you open up for him, letting his tongue sweep in, flicking against yours. you hum, scooting a tiny bit closer to him, chasing the feeling. his kisses turn insistent then, teeth biting at your bottom lip and tugging, soothing the ache with his tongue. he kisses you like a man quenching his thirst, like you’re the best goddamn thing he’s ever tasted, and it’s leaving you dizzy. you sway more into his space and he pulls away from your mouth.

“c’mere,” he whispers, gripping behind one of your knees to drag it over his hips so you’re straddling him. “much better.”

you don’t have a chance to process anything about the moment, his mouth back on yours in a blink. your fingers wind themselves into his hair, getting a good grip on it as you lick into his mouth. he lets out a soft noise at that and you try your damnedest to pry it out of him again, pressing your chest to his so there’s not even a sliver of space left between you.

his hands travel, down the sides of your torso to your thighs, back up to your hips where he holds on tight. it doesn’t take long after that before you find yourself grinding into him. you both moan at the same time, breaking the kiss to pant for breath.

you swallow roughly. “okay,” you murmur, “i think it’s safe to say this could work.”

bucky laughs quietly. “yeah? wanna move to your bed then?”

your squeeze your thighs around him, shifting minutely on his lap and feeling the beginnings of his erection beneath you. “yes,” you breathe.

quickly, you rise from your position and step back, allowing bucky to stand, then grab his hand and lead him to your bedroom. once you’re standing beside your bed, you turn to face him. he meets your halfway, pulling you into another, filthier kiss. you reach for his belt buckle, unfastening it and sliding it through the loops, tossing it to your floor. next are the button and zip of his jeans, shoved down his legs until he steps out of them and kicks them and his socks aside. he obediently lifts his arms when you slide your hands under his shirt and begin pushing it up, breaking the kiss to nearly yank it off, making bucky huff in amusement. once it’s tossed with the rest of his clothes, bucky grabs fistfuls of your dress and pulls you into him.

“my turn,” he says against your lips.

carefully, bucky helps you out of your dress, eyes raking over every bit of new skin shown to him. he bites his lip when he sees your lacy underthings.

“you got all dolled up for me?” he asks.

shifting under his stare, you nod. “wanted to look nice,” you admit.

he hums. “beautiful.”

he kisses you again, a little softer than before, but no less passionate. the urgency returns as he backs you up until your thighs hit the mattress. gently, he guides you onto your back, never breaking the kiss as he follows you down and settles over you.

you soon find yourself in need of air and pull away with a gasp. bucky is undeterred and instead presses his kisses down your jaw, to your neck where he decides to bite and suck until he’s left a mark you’ll have to reprimand him for later. he licks his way up to your ear, sucking the lobe into his mouth, drawing a whine out of you.

“bucky,” you whisper, hands gripping his sides as you squirm below him.

“hm?”

you close your eyes tightly when he makes his way back down to your collarbones.

“please,” you whimper.

“please what, sweetheart?” he asks, pushing himself up to look you in the eye.

“t-touch me,” you beg, cheeks flushing.

his lips quirk into a smile. “i am touching you.”

“bucky,” you whine.

“where do you want me to touch you, hm?” he wonders. one of his hands trails across your shoulder and down the center of your chest. “here? or… here?”

when his fingers glide, barely there, over your pebbled nipples, you push into the touch eagerly.

“or…” he continues, his feather light touch making a path down your stomach. your breath quickens in anticipation. “here?” he murmurs as his fingertips stop on your pantyline.

“yes, there, anywhere,” you agree hastily, “just —please. please, bucky, don’t tease me.”

he kisses you again, deep, full of promise. “you beg so prettily for me.”

he rearranges your positions until he’s between your spread thighs, sweeping his hands across the inside of them. he nods to your panties.

“may i?”

“yes, please,” you reply, lifting your hips to help him take them off.

he doesn’t give you a chance to close your legs in shyness, firmly grasping your knees in each of his hands and spreading them once again. the way he’s looking at you makes you feel unbelievably desirable, has excitement crawling up your spine.

“don’t forget,” you remind him, making his eyes flick up to yours in question, “you better make me cry.”

a slow, dangerous smile graces his lips. your stomach swoops eagerly.

~

a whine, high pitched and drawn out, escapes your lips. after you unwittingly challenged him, bucky took it upon himself to torture you—with sex. so far, he’s only used his fingers on you, in you, thrusting them steadily but never enough to bring you to climax. he’s taking his time and being a smug prick about it. you go to complain, again, hoping if you beg enough he’ll let you come, but before you can do more than open your mouth he’s quickening his pace.

“oh!” you gasp, clutching the sheets in your hands.

bucky slides his hand down your thigh, bringing his thumb inward to swipe around where his other fingers are buried inside you to gather your wetness and using it to rub circles on your clit. your back arches, head thrown back against your pillows as you feel your orgasm build. it’s not tears, but damn, it feels good enough.

just as you start to clench around his fingers, legs spasming, he stops.

your eyes open in a hurry, brows furrowing in confusion. “no, please, don’t stop,” you plead.

bucky smiles. “i gotta get the right build up.”

you groan in frustration. he laughs quietly and lets the inferno burning within you simmer down to embers, then starts inching his way down until he’s lying on his stomach, mouth poised above your pussy. the feel of his warm breath makes you shiver, and with no warning whatsoever, he leans in and sucks your clit into his mouth.

“fuckin’—oh my— bucky!”

you’re pretty sure you black out for the next several minutes, the only thing you’re aware of is the thudding of your heartbeat in your ears and the feel of bucky’s mouth on you. you’re lost in a mindless haze of pleasure, unable to think or feel anything else. you feel your orgasm cresting for the second time, and just as before, bucky pulls away before you can succumb to it.

“why,” you hiccup on a moan, wanting nothing more than to just come already, but he’s not letting you.

he shushes you, softly kisses your knee. sitting up to take his underwear off, bucky keeps his eyes on you, expression hungry.

“gonna take care of you, sweetheart,” he promises. “just a bit more. you’re being so good for me, yeah?”

“please,” you whimper, feeling completely pathetic.

he makes quick work of putting a condom on and then settles between your thighs. you sigh in relief when he wastes no time and pushes in, being careful not to go too fast. once he’s fully inside you, he pauses, wanting to give you time to adjust, but you’re back to whining.

“bucky, please, please just—fuck me,” you beg, squirming beneath him.

he takes mercy on you, finally, and sets a hard pace. your hands fly up to push against the headboard, moaning and gasping from his harsh thrusts, loving the stretch of him inside you. his thumb is back on your clit and you cry out, clenching hard around him, but his thrusts don’t falter. all too soon, you can feel yourself getting close. you hear your own voice chanting please, please, please, mixed in with bucky’s grunts and the sound of him fucking you.

you whimper, eyes squeezed shut as your climax hits the point of no return, crashing over you in waves. you think you might scream, but it’s hard to pay attention to anything other than the overwhelming pleasure coursing through you. part of you thinks this’ll be it, bucky will come now and then you’ll have had one of the best orgasms of your life and he’ll be on his merry way home. but no, that’s not what happens.

instead, bucky keeps thrusting relentlessly into you, dragging out your pleasure to the point of oversensitivity.

“s’too much,” you breathe, gasping for air.

bucky shakes his head, face contorted in concentration. “one more,” he tells you, voice gruff and deep.

unbelievably, you feel tears beginning to gather in the corners of your eyes. bucky’s still rubbing your clit, still keeping a steady rhythm of his hips, and fuck, he’s so beautiful. you watch him fucking you, wondering how the fuck you got to this moment, how you got lucky enough to bear witness to the sight of bucky fucking, let alone be the one he fucks. his body is ridiculous, looking like it’s carved from marble. you know how much strength it holds, as well, know that if he really wanted to, he could probably fuck you against a wall.

it’s with that thought, with the added bonus of the way bucky touches you, looks at you, like you’re something treasured and gorgeous, giving you such intense pleasure, that the tears threatening to spill over finally fall from your lashes.

bucky notices, because of course he does, and he thrusts into you just a little faster, a little harder, and your body seizes up and then you’re falling into another orgasm. it spreads through your veins, slow like honey, making sure this one settles deep into your bones. bucky groans as he, too, reaches climax, hips twitching into you in aftershocks until he stops moving altogether.

you both pant for breath, sweat gathered in every crevice on your bodies. you think you won’t be able to move for the rest of the weekend.

“need to pull out,” bucky says softly, breaking the moment.

you nod and he carefully pulls his hips back, grunting. you poorly suppress a whimper and close your legs, already hating the empty feeling.

“well,” he starts, plopping himself on his back next to you, “i think i deserve some kind of reward.”

when you turn to face him with an exasperated look, he’s got his arms crossed behind his head, a smug smile across his lips.

“how about i don’t kick you in the balls? how’s that for a reward?”

“i literally just did the impossible.”

“what, made me come twice? i can do that all on my own. you’re not special,” you retort with a huff.

he scoffs. “i fucked you so good you cried.”

“you can’t prove it,” you say to the ceiling.

“keep up this attitude and i won’t do it again,” he threatens, poking you in your side.

you wiggle away from the ticklish touch while trying to tamp down on the hope bubbling in your chest.

“oh, we’re doing this again, are we?” you say as casually as possible.

he rolls his eyes. “of course we are. now,” he sits up in your bed, stretching his arms as he stands and picks up his underwear, “i’m starving. wanna order takeout?”

well, you guess if you’d been worried about any kind of awkwardness before, you shouldn’t have. this is bucky, your best friend. he’d never let things change between you.

***

except, things kinda change between the two of you.

it’s not very noticeable at first, changes so subtle you miss them, until one day he showed up at your apartment and greeted you with a kiss. you stood frozen in your doorway as he rambled about how stressful his day had been as he kicked his shoes off. it was only when you heard him calling out from the kitchen that he was gonna eat your leftovers that you snapped out of it, yelling back that you’d kick his ass if he even touched your dumplings.

another day, he facetimes you and asks if you want to go to see that new movie you’ve been talking about.

“oh,” you’d said. “are nat and sam coming, too?”

he’d given you a funny look, replied, “no, i thought it would just be us two.”

“oh,” you said again. “okay.”

so you’d gone to the movies, let him buy you buttery popcorn and peanut m&m’s and a soda bigger than your head. he shared with you, despite your protests, and halfway through the film you felt his hand settle on your thigh. you blinked and stared at it for a beat, turning to him in question. he only smiled at you briefly before focusing back on the movie.

in between all of this, you continued calling him over for sex. honestly, how could you not? as much as you didn’t want to admit it to him, he was the best you’ve ever had. and if he’s so willing, why shouldn’t you take advantage while you can?

a week ago, though, you’d texted him and asked him to come over, replying to his question of what time and then started getting ready. you’d purchased a new piece of lingerie, a periwinkle babydoll nightie, that left very little to the imagination. it had a matching pair of panties and felt soft and luxurious on your skin. you’d taken extra time to do your hair and makeup, wanting to look like sex on legs, and you’re pretty sure you succeeded.

but when he got there and you answered the door in your sexy outfit, he didn’t see it right away. in one hand he held his phone, typing something on it, and in the other hand he held a grocery bag that you eyed curiously.

“i brought stuff to make spaghetti—“

when he did finally look up, his eyes widened and traveled the length of your body several times. you bit your lip, trying and failing to hold back your smile.

“how about we skip dinner?” you’d said, fisting his nice button-up shirt and dragging him inside your apartment. you grabbed the grocery bag from his hand and sat it on the floor, absently noting he was wearing his date jeans.

whoops, you’d thought, hope i didn’t pull him away from someone important.

you hadn’t let yourself dwell on it, standing up on your tippy toes and kissing him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. he’d returned the kiss, licking into your mouth, drawing your tongue out so he could suck on it and made you moan embarrassingly loud.

“wait,” he’d murmured, “we should eat first.”

“or, you could eat me,” you’d retorted with a giggle.

he groaned like it pained him to say no, gripped your hips hard and put a tiny bit of distance between you. the look in his eyes had made you want to find the nearest flat surface and bend over.

“why don’t you be a good girl for me, hm? let me cook dinner for us and after we eat i’ll fuck you however you want me to. okay, sweetheart?”

you whined, but ultimately agreed, knowing he’d make it worth it.

and then there’s tonight, where he came over unannounced, armed with groceries again and promising to cook you the best meal you’ve ever had. to say you were confused would be an understatement, but you also didn’t want to look a gift horse in the mouth.

it’s just… well, bucky’s not really acting like a friend with benefits. sure, you hung out alone with him all the time before, but he never once cooked you dinner, and he certainly never helped wash dishes after. you guess the hello kisses could be explained away as part of the new aspect of your relationship, but something about that didn’t sit quite right with you.

after a truly delicious dinner, you find yourself on the couch with bucky as he scrolls through netflix to find a movie to put on.

“what do you want to watch?” he asks.

“mm,” you mumble, shifting closer to start kissing his neck, “don’t care.”

as he narrows down his decision and finally picks one, you make your way up to his jaw, sucking a small mark into the skin there.

“baby,” he protests softly, “let’s just watch the movie, yeah?”

you pull back, confused. first at the pet name, then at his words. he’s never denied you before, which isn’t to say that he can’t, it’s just that he’s always seemed on board. and, you know, you thought that was kind of the whole point of this thing.

“okay,” you reply after a moment.

he gives you a smile and a sweet kiss, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you into his side to cuddle. you can’t help but frown, feeling like you’re missing something, but not knowing what it could be.

it doesn’t take long for drowsiness to creep up on you. before he showed up, you had planned on probably ordering out for dinner and going to bed early since you’d had a pretty rough day. in fact, you remember texting bucky about it just that afternoon. your eyelids get heavier and heavier, finding it harder to keep them open as the seconds pass. your head droops and in the next blink, you’ve fallen asleep.

you’re not sure how much time has passed when bucky wakes you, but you groan, pouting and burrowing into his shoulder more.

he huffs a laugh. “c’mon, sweetheart, let’s get you to bed.”

“don’ wanna move,” you mumble tiredly.

“i’ll carry you,” he offers. “up you go, baby.”

you half heartedly argue about being jostled, but let him carry you to your bed where he carefully places you, helping you out of your sweatpants and pulling your blankets up around you. you sigh in content, feeling yourself already drifting back into sleep. you hear bucky shuffling, but think nothing of it until the bed dips beside you, then feel his warm body slide in underneath the covers and press in close.

“goodnight, darlin’,” he murmurs.

you’d ask him what in the word he’s doing, but sleep is just far too enticing to ignore. you fall into slumber with bucky’s warmth along your back, his arm draped over you.

the next morning, you wake to the feeling of his fingers playing with the tiny bow on the front of your panties and his lips placing gentle kisses on your shoulder. you hum, eyes still closed, in the back of your mind thinking this is a nice way to wake up. at the sound of you, his touches get firmer, more insistent.

“good morning,” he rasps, breath tickling your ear.

you don’t really get a chance to reply. he dips his fingers into your panties, making you inhale sharply, moaning as you buck into his hand. he fingers you for a while, kissing along the column of your throat, biting and sucking marks into the skin there. when you’re begging him for more, he relents, eases your panties off and lifts your leg to slide in from behind. the angle is so nice it has you gasping.

you clutch the sheets weakly, burying your face in your pillow and muffle your whines and moans. bucky keeps a slow, lazy rhythm, acting as if he’s got all the time in the world to draw this out. it’s good, so good, and you can’t hold back your whimper when he kicks up the pace a little, tells you to touch yourself. you come seconds before he does, shuddering through it and humming happily.

as you both lie there and catch your breath, awareness trickles into your mind. you swallow roughly, staring blankly at the wall as you realize your feelings have grown far too much for this to be only casual anymore.

bucky kisses your shoulder again. “i’m gonna go make breakfast, okay? i’ll call you when it’s ready.”

“okay,” you whisper, blinking rapidly to keep tears from forming.

hearing bucky bustle around your kitchen makes your heart clench with want; want for something you can’t have.

***

bucky: dinner tonight?

you bite the inside of your cheek as you stare at the text. you know you need to cut things off with him before you get anymore hurt than you already are. it’s not fair to either of you if you continue with this arrangement when you’ve caught real feelings for him. you have to tell him, and soon. with that thought in mind, you type out a reply.

you: sure. what time?

bucky: reservations are at 8pm, i’ll pick you up by 7:45.

reservations? where was he taking you? you get another text before you can ask.

bucky: dress nice ;)

with a sigh, you text back an affirmative and try to start mentally preparing yourself for the conversation you dreaded having. you could only hope and pray that he agrees to still be your friend after.

by the time there’s a knock on your door that night, you’ve worked yourself up into an anxious mess. you open the door to see bucky standing there with a single peach colored rose and a bashful grin.

“hi,” he greets, leaning in to kiss you on your cheek. “this is for you.”

he hands you the rose and you feel your heart crack in your chest. you muster a small smile.

“thank you. let me go put this in a vase and we can head out.”

he nods and waits patiently at the door. as you fill a vase with a little water, you take a deep breath, giving yourself a mental pep talk.

this was going to suck.

the drive to the restaurant doesn’t take too long, and when you see where he’s taken you, your eyebrows shoot up. this is one of the nicer places in the city, definitely not on the affordable side. he helps you out of the car, leading you inside with his hand on the small of your back. you’re led to a small booth in a far corner with overhead lighting that feels too intimate. maybe you’d have to wait until you left to tell him…

conversation is light, a bit surface level, and you get the feeling that bucky is a little nervous. you wonder if maybe he’s gonna let you down gently first, hoping that he doesn’t, because you’d rather not cry in such a fancy restaurant.

after the waiter takes your drink orders, bucky sighs.

“okay, let me just… get this off my chest.”

oh fuck, here it goes.

“i know i’ve never really come across at the most romantic guy, especially since i’ve never felt the need to be.” he runs a nervous hand through his hair. “you’ve always been so important to me, and this last month has been so, so wonderful.”

“bucky…” you trail off, attempting to somehow stop him, but he powers through.

“i just—i never thought i’d find somebody, you know?” he says, earnest, gaze locked on yours. another crack in your heart. “especially not somebody who was my friend first, that i already had a solid foundation with. the attraction had always been there, but the friendship meant more to me, and finally allowing that to blossom into this amazing, new, fun relationship has got to be the best decision i’ve ever made.”

did he start dating someone and not tell you? oh god, has he been sleeping with someone else? at the same time? your stomach turns, eyes burning, hating yourself more and more as he speaks.

“so, i guess what i’m trying to say is,” he says, rolling his eyes at himself and smiling, “happy one month anniversary, sweetheart.”

you blink, feeling a tear slip down your cheek. “what?” you croak, beyond confused.

bucky, however, looks concerned. “baby, why are you crying?”

“i…” you blink some more, eyes flitting around the room as if you’ll get some kind of clarity that way to the situation currently happening. “what?” you repeat.

“did i come on too strong?” he asks, looking embarrassed now. “i wasn’t sure if you’d even want to celebrate, but i’ve just been so happy with you—i’m sorry, baby, i should’ve asked.”

“bucky, what are you talking about?” you finally manage, unable to keep the bewilderment out of your tone. “anniversary?”

bucky frowns. “i didn’t get the date wrong, did i?”

“no, i—this isn’t—i’m not talking about—ugh, i mean, when did we even start having an anniversary to celebrate?”

bucky’s face goes blank, sitting back in his chair. your heart is pounding wildly in your chest, so fucking confused, so fucking hopeful.

“we… we’re dating,” he says, slow, unsure. “aren’t we?”

“since when?” you ask probably too loudly, cheeks flushing.

he opens and closes his mouth a couple times. “when i asked you out?”

“bucky, oh my god, you’re gonna have to be more specific before i lose my goddamn mind. when did you ask me out?”

he huffs, his own cheeks flushing. “at the cafe! a month ago, at brunch with natasha and sam.”

your eyes widen in disbelief. “when you asked if you could fuck me until i cried?” you hiss, ignoring the scandalized look on the waiter’s face as he brings your drinks over.

smiling apologetically, you thank him and wait until he’s gone before sending a glare bucky’s way.

“that’s not how you ask a person out,” you seethe.

“i asked if you wanted to give this a try and you said yes!” he replies desperately. “i’ve taken you on dates!”

you pinch the bridge of your nose, thinking of all the times you thought he was being too romantic, more-than-friends type of behavior. you’re a fucking idiot, but god, so was he.

“at no point did you say anything even remotely close about us starting a relationship. i thought we were just fucking, bucky, i didn’t realize it was more than that!”

“you don’t—“ he starts, then stops, looking down at the plate in front of him. “you don’t want to be with me?”

“i didn’t know it was an option,” you say carefully.

“well, it is.” he meets your gaze, cautious. “i just spilled my guts to you. you know how i feel now. how do you feel? about me?”

you lick your lips. “bucky, i… i was planning to end things with you tonight.” his expression drops, even though he tries to mask it, so you’re quick to explain. “not because i don’t like you, but because i do like you and i thought you wouldn’t want anything more than just sex with me.”

“it’s never been and never could have been just sex with you,” he replies, quiet and relieved. he reaches across the table to take your hand in his. “i meant it when i said you’re the best decision i’ve ever made. i want this—the sex, the dinners, dates, all the gross and sappy shit i never wanted before… i want it all with you, if you’ll have me.”

you can’t fight the smile spreading across your lips. “of course i’ll have you, bucky.”

he smiles in return, a laugh bubbling out of him, which makes you giggle, until you’re both laughing so hard and loud that patrons from other tables are sending dirty looks your way, which only makes you laugh more.

“do you wanna get out of here?” you ask, laughter dying down. “there’s pizza and sex calling our names, i think.”

bucky moans dramatically. “i knew i liked you for a reason.”

he leaves money on the table and then the two of you quickly make your way through the restaurant, giggling and holding hands the whole way, even in the car.

[lovegasmic]

 WORKING OVER TIME.

TOJI, KENTO, SUKUNA + FEM!READER.

mdni. dub con, gangbang, a bit of inappropriate touching but you don't complain, no curses au ( you all are office workers lol ) , stuck in a wall, cunilingus, anaI fingering, use of spit as lube, oral male receiving ( w Nanami and he's kinda mean ) unprotected sx aka creampies and cum swallowing. words used to refer reader: dummy, princess, slut. NOT PROOFREAD

“c’mon pretty, I know you can get it” ever since you arrived at the company, Toji hasn’t lost a single chance to tease you, making his approach seem friendly when in reality, he just wanted to fuck you raw.

“i’m trying!” you huff in return, embarrassed by the current position that you find yourself in, stretching your hands to reach for the documents folder that fell behind large rack, and you, being the only girl working after hours was the perfect fit to help the man retreat such important material, “i can’t reach it!”

Toji is so grateful that you’re not watching him, allowing his eyes to wander through the way your round ass is up in the air, standing on tip toes while letting out huffs of exertion, sounds Toji wished to hear while being balls deep in your tight pussy. a soft yet firm slap lands on your butt cheek, not painful but making you squeal, “Toji!” you yell, ignoring the way your face burns and core throbs, denying the attraction you had to the man wouldn’t take you anywhere.

he chuckles, “you’re almost there, just a bit more... although, i’m not complaining if you take your time, the view over here is wonderful”

“you’re the worse” you mutter, used to Toji’s behavior and way too over friendly touching, the tips of your fingers brush over the hard edge of the folder, skimming in a little further to grasp it with a triumphant sound, “i got it! Toji help me out”

“of course, princess” the man smirks, holding onto your hips but instead of pulling, you feel him pushing you down and deeper into the rack, your head almost hanging from the other side of it.

“Toji you idiot! now i’m stuck, you made it worse”

“nah” he tuts, “i think I made it perfect” there’s a deep laugh coming from his chest, clearly enjoying himself, rubbing his hands across your thighs.

“what’s going on?” another voice joins, steady steps approaching your squirming form, and you can tell who it is immediately, another one of your coworkers who adores teasing you nonstop.

“dummy got stuck while trying to pick up a folder that fell” Toji’s voice is filled with humor, a bit mockingly if you had to say.

Sukuna grins, allowing his hand to rest on the small of your back, “is that so?” you hear him laugh.

“i hate you both” you bite back, trying to ignore the growing wetness between your legs, most likely staining your panties and dripping down your thighs.

“oh, but it seems like you’re enjoying this” the pink haired man speaks again, letting a single finger trace the contour of your pussy through the pencil skirt you wore, pushing enough for your wetness to seep through and drench the other layer of fabric.

“i’m not!” you hiss, futilely trying to kick the men only for them to grab your legs, one each.

“this sweet cunt of yours says otherwise” Toji huffs, raising your skirt until it pools around your waist, taking a teasing lick across your covered slit to which you mewl, hips wiggling against your better judgement, “don’t fight, honey, we’ll make you feel so good” Sukuna’s hands then reach forward, spreading out your pussy lips after Toji tugged your underwear down, letting it stretch around your knees.

“what a pretty thing you are” Sukuna speaks, letting his fingers caress the skin of your folds, teasingly sliding them across your wet clit just for a brief second.

by this point all rational thoughts are pretty much gone from your head, focusing on Toji’s heavy breathing straight in your core, and Sukuna’s thumbs keeping your hole spread and leaking. a loud groan resonates in the small room, followed closely by the dark haired man’s tongue plunging into your sopping cunt, so deep and so good your hands desperately try to find purchase in the smooth wall right in front of your eyes.

“she’s gorgeous” Sukuna groans, palming his bulge, “isn’t that right, Kento?” and you yelp at his words, a sound that could get easily mistaken as a pleasurable one since Toji kept on slurping loudly against your clit, sucking on your folds and swirling your slick on the tip of his tongue.

Sukuna and Toji were something, but you actually held respect towards the blonde, worried about how his opinion on you would change by watching you moan over your coworker eating you out.

“what do you think you’re doing?” his voice is deep and calm, a bit tired if you had to admit.

“Kento!” you gasp and kick, earning a pinch in your ass and Toji’s muffled voice vibrating in your pussy, “if you’re going to moan someone’s name so prettily it better be mine”

“oh, c’mon, join the fun, she’s enjoying the attention, like a little greedy slut” this time is Sukuna’a turn to speak, returning to his place by hunching next to your hips, his face hovering over where Toji continues his assault and letting a glob of spit to fall in the crack of your ass, using the thick substance to rub on your puckered hole.

“n-not there! i can’t—” you whine, thighs shaking from the double stimulation.

“you say that but your pussy is fluttering like crazy” Toji chuckles, now using two of his fingers to penetrate your hole, going at such a fast pace that you’re unable to speak and just moan, “cum, I know you’re close” he rasps, his fingers not flattering until liquid gushes out of your cunt and soaks his fingers at the same time as Sukuna’s finger dips in your asshole.

“o-oh, my god—!”

“fuck yes, you’re so goddamn sexy” they half praise, half groan, both men digits still buried inside your holes and moving in sync, slowly driving you insane.

a second finger joins the one in your ass and the ones in your pussy disappear, replaced by a sticky trail that left on your thigh, up and across your asscheeks where Toji glides his cockhead against, tapping on your clit a couple of times for his own selfish enjoyment in hearing you beg.

“please...” you whine, not certain of what but the emptiness of your cunt brought tears to your eyes, twitching in aftershocks of your previous orgasm.

“you better be on birth control, baby, because i’m fuckin’ you raw”

“elders first” Sukuna chuckles, observing intensely how Toji’s cock slowly disappears into your wet hole, ripping whines out of your mouth and forcing your ass to squeeze Sukuna’s fingers, biting back a groan of satisfaction at the idea of how tight you might feel inside.

“fuck me! f-feels so good!” you scream, attempting to dig your nails in the wall as a shiver runs down your spine once Toji’s cock is deeply buried inside your pussy, drooling precum inside your slippery walls.

“so fuckin’ hot, i’m going to enjoy breeding this tiny pussy” you mewl while the man starts to pound into you, slapping Sukuna’s hand away and replacing it with his thumb, fingering your tight hole as his cock stretches your cunt, groaning deeply at the tight squeeze of your walls, sucking him deeper with each thrust.

“i’m cumming again” you cry out, embarrassingly sooner than expected, unable to stop the sudden wave of pleasure surging through your body and forcing your walls to clamp down on the cock ruining your insides. he continues to fuck you through your orgasm until his own high gets triggered, cumming hard with a deep growl, halfway pulling out to spray your folds and lower back with cum.

“prettiest pussy i’ve ever fucked” Toji says, stepping aside to allow Sukuna to pull your thighs back, forcing you to take his cock in one swift motion, filling every inch of your pussy.

“you love this, don’t you, a perfect fuckhole, letting us take turns in fucking this tight pussy” Sykuna growls, moving in slow but hard thrusts that knock the air out of your lungs, bringing tears to your eyes and you slick to drip down on the floor.

“y-yes, Kuna! my pussy feels so good” you babble delirious, thighs shaking under the intense and hard pounding into your hot cunt, overstimulated but feeling impossibly good.

“fuuck, you’ll make me cum soon, better stretch this pussy nicely for Kento, hm? he acts all serious but has been jerking off for the past hour” Sukuna’s last words come quietly, almost like a secret you pretty much enjoy considering the sudden tightness in your walls, squeezing tightly around his cock while his hands grip your hips tightly, keeping you still as his balls slap against your clit.

“f-fill me up, please” you beg, eyes crossing as your pussy cums around him, taking Sukuna with you as his hips speed up, groans turning into growls while he fills you with his hot cum, pumping into you with tiny thrusts, more like humping your ass.

you breathe heavily, trying to compose your erratic heartbeat as Sukuna pulls out, cum oozing out of your hole and dripping down your thighs.

an unconscious yelp gets ripped out of your throat at the sudden pull of your legs, unstuck and landing on the floor with a dull thud where your knees hit.

“open your mouth” Kento growls, tugging your head back slightly enough to guide the dripping tip of his cock into your mouth, a bit of consideration to your abused cunt.

“wettest cunt, wettest mouth” Sukuna whistles next to the blonde, watching how his length comes out of your mouth glistening and soaked with your saliva, “aren’t you perfect everywhere?”

ignoring the other men in the room, Kento starts to use your throat back and forth, careful but firm enough to bring tears to your eyes, adoring how there's drool slipping from the corners of your lips, eyes glossy and almost rolled to the back of your skull with how good you feel. it doesn’t take much time for the man to approach his orgasm, rubbing your tongue with his cock head and slapping your cheeks before plunging it inside once again, his groans only increasing with the subtle buck of his hips against your mouth.

“i’m cumming, you swallow it all” he huffs, pressing into your mouth as deep as possible, making your nose rub on the peach fuzz above his cock, choking and moaning as cum fills your warm mouth. “next time I’ll be cumming in your pussy, since you love slutting yourself out”

[entirelysein-e]

『 Patching them up 』

☼ synopsis: you patch them up after a fight

☼ characters: Sakura / Suo / Umemiya

☼ wc: 1.4k

☼ cw: mentions of fights, wounds and blood

☼ notes: this windbreaker brainrot is going strong someone help my dear head || don't forget to sign up for the taglist so you won't miss out!

ˑ༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ ▹Sakura:

✧ Sakura didn't expect you to be sitting there at the Café when they returned after yet another fight and he almost walked right back out through the door, but Umemiya blocked his path, a stern look on his face

✧ You could see that Umemiya urged Sakura to walk towards you, a heavy blush on his cheeks as his face contorted into a scowl

✧ He looked like he'd rather be anywhere else but near you - near anyone right now and you decided to make it easier for him, not teasing him or speaking much

✧ Kotoha knew about your little crush on the man in front of you and decided that you will be helping to patch the guys of Furin up - perhaps you can get a little closer to him this way

✧ Sakura sat down with a huff on the chair in front of you, glaring to the side when his classmates snickered at how nervous you look now

✧ "I-I can do that myself. I'm not a child," he mumbled and wanted to take the bandages from your hand but you held onto his wrist - firm but careful to not hurt him

✧ You gave him a stern look and gently held the ice pack to his swollen eye, your gaze getting stuck on his handsome face which made him grind his teeth

✧ "You got a problem?" He asked pissed off and wanted to jerk away but when your gaze softened he was lost for a moment

✧ With gentle hands you bandaged his still bleeding knuckles, your fingers working so careful that he could only sit there dumbfounded, holding the ice pack to his face

✧ Without any further complaint he let you dress various wounds and clean the cuts but he drew the line at his face, unable to feel your caring gaze on him without getting affected

✧ However, you insisted on using the butterfly bandage on his brow to close the rather nasty cut without it leaving a scar behind and Sakura let you under heavy protest

✧ When you brushed the white hair out of his face, you saw that even the tips of his ears were blushed, his skin warm to the touch and you felt the heat rising up your cheeks as well

✧ Your hand rested on his face longer than necessary and you removed it as the second you realized, jerking away as if his skin just burned you

✧ The man in front of you didn't even dare to complain when you held one of his hands ever so gently while holding the ice pack to his knuckles

✧ It took so long to patch him up but it seems like both of you rather enjoyed the way you took care of him and perhaps he will let you take care of him again next time with a little less protest

✧ If you kiss his hands he might fall off the chair, affection a rather new thing to him but he would willingly bruise his knuckles again just to feel your lips on his skin

ˑ༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ ▹Suo:

✧ Suo was always so kind and his hands were so soft and gentle when holding yours or cupping your cheek, you never thought he could even fight

✧ So when he came back home after helping someone out of trouble you almost dropped the glass you were holding upon setting eyes on him

✧ There was a single cut on his cheek and his knuckles were bruised, some spots even bleeding but he wore his usual smile

✧ Without hesitation you walked over to him and inspected his hands, worry etched on your face but he did his best to reassure you, waving your concerns off

✧ “Oh please, this is nothing but a scratch you don't need to worry” He gently took his hands back from yours, not wanting you to worry about him

✧ His opponent certainly looked worse so what are a couple of bruised knuckles?

✧ You insisted on patching him up however and he sighed heavily, a sad smile on his face when he agreed to it

✧ He hated to burden you like this but it was you who insisted on it and who was he to deny your acts of love and care?

✧ Suo didn't complain a single time, not even when you dropped the bandages multiple times or hesitated to use the rubbing alcohol on his usually soft and delicate hands

✧ His lack of reaction to the more painful aspects of cleaning wounds surprised you but you didn't question it, still apologizing for putting him through this

✧ You didn't want to ask about what happened, your lovers rough side a mystery to you and he was glad you didn't ask

✧ He might be proud of his skills but beating someone up was nothing he'd ever brag about aside from the fact that he never starts a fight unless it's to protect someone

✧ You gently bandaged his hands up and kissed each of them tenderly which made him feel so loved and accepted by you

✧ When you cleaned the small cut on his face he insisted that you won't put a bandaid on it since it's not that deep so you put away the cutest bandaids you were able to find - little star shaped bandaids

✧ Once you were done of taking care of him he thanked you dearly. That you care about him this much fills him with so much gratitude

✧ Safe to say that he pampered you the rest of the evening by cooking your favorite meal and just holding you close

ˑ༄ؘ ۪۪۫۫ ▹Umemiya:

✧ You were always the first to get texted that things went well and that he's okay which made you no stranger to taking care of wounds

✧ Being Umemiya’s loving partner meant that you patch up his guys after fights and you did so without a single complaint, proud of them for what they do

✧ But even if it was just Ume who got into a fight, you were the first he went to, a big smile on his bruised face and it made you wonder how he can be so cheerful in this state

✧ His secret trick? He gets to feel your hands on him, gets to bathe in your love and your tender care so there was nothing to frown about

✧ Umemiya adored the serious look on your face when you carefully cleaned all cuts before icing every single bruise

✧ “You need to be more careful, Hajime” you scold him in a soft tone, straddling his lap to patch up his face properly

✧ “I am being careful… but even if they land a punch, I know you're here to kiss it better” he mused, trying to kiss you but you stopped him

✧ You simply shook your head and denied him the kisses “I won't kiss anything better if you're reckless, Haji” you muse but kiss his bruised cheekbone with such care it made his stomach flip

✧ Feeling your lips against his skin, no matter how bruised and battered, made everything hurt less - he even swore that everything healed faster thanks to your kisses

✧ It's a good excuse to get more of them but you play along, wanting to pamper him to your best abilities

✧ When it was time to apply a bandaid you purposely took one for the younger ones, little stars on a blue bandaid now adorning the bridge of his nose

✧ Umemiya looked absolutely adorable like this when he smiled brightly and he knew damn well that no one would make fun of him like that

✧ The last guy who made fun of his cute bandaids wore a hello kitty bandaid on his broken nose for weeks - both a reminder by yours truly

✧ If getting beaten up means having you sit on his lap and tending to every bruise and cut, Umemiya almost liked getting into fights and perhaps he let his opponent land one more punch than necessary to his lip just so you can coo over and lecture him

[beenbaanbuun]

the fight w/ choi jongho

kind of proof read but also kind of not….

——————————————————————————

as your boyfriend turns to face the counter, expression stern and shoulders tense, you realise that that’s it; you’ve reached the end of your argument. there’s more you want to say, more you feel you should say, but then jongho says, “i’m done talking about this,” in a tone so strict that immediately your mouth snaps shut. you swallow your words but they seem to get stuck in your throat, a painful lump forming in their wake.

you’ve been crying for a while now. the anger from your argument had manifested itself in the form of hot tears that streamed down your cheeks as you stumbled your way through an argument that erupted over something that seems entirely irrelevant now. something to do with the dishes; the cause of it all is foggy, just like your vision as you angrily swipe at your eyes. you want to fight back and have the final word, but the words still refuse to come out.

so you turn around and walk away. if you can’t have the last word, then you need to find some other way to cool yourself down. it makes you feel a little toxic when you pull your car keys from the table but your blood is boiling just enough to make it seem rational for you to leave jongho alone for the night. he hates going to sleep when you’re still mad at each other, you remind yourself, but you hate sitting and stewing in his frustration as you wait for him to finally be ready to talk about it. if he wants to talk about it later, he can wait until you come back tomorrow.

“where are you going?” he yells through the apartment as the keys clink in your hands. you don’t answer, a petty part of your brain wanting to give him the silence that he claimed to want. it doesn’t surprise you when you hear his heavy footsteps thud down the corridor, a shoulder softly brushing past yours as jongho moves to block your exit, “you’re not going anywhere alone at this time of night.”

you shrug, bending down to grab a pair of sneakers which you lift up by their tied laces. your fingers fumble over them as you desperately try to get them undone. it hadn’t occurred to you that your hands were shaking until now; until you desperately needed them not to be. it’s humiliating to stand before the man you love, angry tears washing away your makeup as you fail to do a task so simple that even children can do it. you let out a growl of frustration as a new wave of hot tears fill your waterline, threatening to fall free the moment you decide to blink. they cloud your vision making your task even harder, so you squeeze your eyes closed to rid yourself of them.

you feel them roll dramatically down your face, tickling your skin as they reach your jawline. they drip from your face, toppling onto your fingers and making your impossible task even more impossible. in a fit of annoyance, you toss the shoes to the ground and throw your hands up to your face. the shoes can fucking win, for all you care; what’s one more fight lost?

but then you hear a sigh and the quiet tap, tap, tap of feet and suddenly you’re enveloped in a pair of warm arms. you can practically feel the annoyance flowing from your boyfriend’s body as he moves to pet the back of your skull, but you can also feel him trying to hide it. his movements are soft despite his breathing being heavy, and his hug is just as tight with love as his jaw is with rage. even through his own anger, he’s taking care of you; you can’t help but feel a little guilty at that.

“forget the shoes,” he grumbles, voice still just as stern as it was moments before, “i wouldn’t have let you go anyway.”

“you can’t keep me trapped here,” you sob into his jumper. his grip only tightens.

“i’m not trapping you here, dingus,” his lips are hot as they press a firm kiss to your head, “it’s dark outside and if you can’t get your laces undone then you certainly can’t fucking drive. i’m mad at you but i’m not about to let you put yourself in danger, idiot.”

“fine, then,” you whine, “you drive me to my parents house.”

“is that what you want?” he asks as he settles his cheek against your forehead. it’s warm and soft and it feels so natural rested there. you cant help it when you nuzzle into it, just like he can’t help the fond hum that fights it’s way through the wall of anger to escape his lips. instinct takes over as you subconsciously wind your own arms around his waist, tugging him closer to your shaking form.

and for a moment, everything seems normal.

“well?” he purrs, voice slightly muffled by the way your head squishes his face.

“i don’t know,” it’s not really an answer, but at least it’s honest.

because in truth, you don’t know. the smothering weight of jongho’s anger is almost too much to take sometimes, suffocating you as he takes himself off to somewhere private to stew in it until he’s ready to talk. most of the time it’s okay. you can live with sitting alone in the living room until he’s ready to come crawling to you with his tail between his legs as he searches for affection. when it involves you, though, you really can’t. because then it’s not just his frustration you’re sitting in, but your own too and that’s just all too much. if he doesn’t want to talk it through right now, before your brain had time to find a million reasons to blame yourself, then you’re going to have to step away.

just for tonight, just until the anger is over.

but jongho lets out another heavy breath, a contemplative hum coming immediately after. the hands that still rest heavy on your body seem to tighten, dragging you in unfathomably closer. just by the way he’s touching you, it’s not hard to tell that he hates the fact that you leaving is still on the table.

“what can i do to make you sure?” he purrs, voice softer than you’d heard it all night. it’s almost like he’s talking to a scared dog, trying to soothe it just enough so it doesn’t run. you can’t help but feel every bit like that dog; cornered and scared yet so in need of the slightest bit of love that for a second or two, it considers just giving in. that dog never knows. maybe this time won’t be as bad as the last, after all. maybe it won’t need to run.

“talk,” you reply.

“baby, lat—”

“not later, jongho,” there’s a crack in your voice, warning you that if you push yourself too far the tears will come right back. jongho seems to notice it too; he keeps his mouth shut, not wanting to cause any more anger between the both of you. you suck in a deep breath, “i don’t want to sit in my head for hours until you decide you’re ready, jongho. being left alone in the knowledge that you’re in the next room just completely mad at me makes everything worse.”

there’s a few beats of silence, the only sound filling the room being your sniffles. there’s no more rage-filled breathing from him, no more sobs from you. it’s simply the remnants of what has happened; a few post-cry sniffs that remind you that despite the warmth you feel standing in his arms, none of this is as good as it feels right now.

and yet none of it is as bad as it seemed just moments before…

“i’m still annoyed with you, honey,” it certainly doesn’t feel it by the way he has you completely enveloped in his arms. his stance is so protective, his fingers so soft and his cheek so warm. it’s certainly not the posture of someone who doesn’t want to be around you for a little while. “i can’t talk about it with you until i know for certain that i won’t get angry; i don’t want to say anything i don’t mean.”

weirdly enough, as much as you want to hate it, you understand where he’s coming from. you’re still mad too and as much as you can tell yourself that nothing bad will happen, you know deep down that there’s a good chance it will. you don’t want this to be any worse than it already is, but you know that jongho’s method won’t exactly make things better. you’re at an impasse.

“i just don’t like the sitting and waiting, wondering when you’re going to walk through the door and tell me you’re ready,” you sigh into his chest, “it feels wrong, like i’m waiting on death row for my punishment to finally come.”

“so we don’t go to different rooms, then,” he offers, “we go to the bedroom together and we sit with one another until we’re ready to talk. we don’t even have to acknowledge each other if we’re still that angry, but at least you’ll know i’m there.”

“and you’re sure you’ll want to be with me even when you’re mad?” a hand snakes up your spine to pet gently at your hair.

“i always want to be by your side, honey.”

[pearlzier]

⊹ 🩰 ࣪ ✶ ˖

✶ . ࣪ ׅ now playing / pink matter by frank ocean ࣪ ✶ ˖

๋࣭ ⭑ from the inbox . . . | reader thinking that matt doesn't really care about her and his priorities are always elsewhere, and he decided to worship her to make it up to her — @lovesickgrlsrh0t

๋࣭ ⭑ warnings . . . | kinda subby matt, also kinda subby reader, oral (f!receiving), barely angst but sure, riding schlong, unprotected sex (dont be silly wrap that willy LMFAOO), p in v

๋࣭ ⭑ author's note . . . | take me shopping i dont care you can take me anywhere see the wind fly through my hair make the people stop n stare 😇 i hope this is. good BYE

you know matt loves you more than anything. it was so obvious in everything he did, how he behaved around you. you love him more than anything, you're sure to make it obnoxiously clear too. he makes your heart flutter, your demeanour happier and just everything better.

so why was that quiet but insistent part of your mind trying to convince you otherwise?

it started when matt was getting consistently more busy with youtube and other influencer-y things that he and his brothers do. you were used to it, yeah, but lately it felt more intrusive and an inconvience to you more than anything. but you never mentioned it, because you never wanted to seem needy, or like that annoying girlfriend who always wants his attention on her. you do, of course, who wouldn't, but not like that.

"m'busy, baby, i can't," he'd tell you, glancing at you for a faint moment before he looked back at his computer or resumed talking with nick and chris. it shouldn't have made you as upset as it did, since it wasn't anywhere near rude or a rejection, but it did make you upset. even a—"maybe later, babe,"—was almost catastrophic, making you feel even worse.

it may seem irrational or an overreaction however you just felt.. ignored. or underappreciated, or whatever you'd call it. like, does he even care about you? insane, you know, but.. you couldn't help but feel like that. what was making you so highstrung?

and matt. oh, matt. as perceptive as ever, knew there was something wrong almost immediately. he stayed quiet about it, trying to test the waters to see whether he was wrong about it however when your reluctance to even be around him became evident, he knew something had happened. he just.. didn't know what. so, he asked chris, first. "i dunno, man, she's just—she's like, avoiding me," chris laughs, almost instantly.

"what the fuck did you do?" he's not really paying attention, considering he knows exactly why you're avoiding matt. you'd talked to him and nick about it. and he vividly remembers you saying you wanted matt to figure out why you were so upset himself; without help.

matt retorts immediately, "i don't know, if i did, i think i'd be fixing it, dumbass." he swallows thickly, feeling uncomfortable with the thought of you not wanting to be around him. he pushes up from the counter, sighing, "thanks for the help." his tone is sarcastic, snarky, as he runs a hand through his hair before heading to the living room where you were with nick.

yeah, you'd resorted to hanging out with nick, when matt was in the house—it wasn't unusual, just.. weird considering how worried he was. it was petty of you, you knew it, but..

"hey," the tension is unsettling, and he hates it. you hate it too. you both hate it. nick's in the middle of it, fiddling with the beads of the bracelet he'd been making with you with a sideways glance at matt as if to tell him that he fucked up, big time. matt knew that, of course he did. you glance up at him, a tiny bit guilty. "nick, you mind if i steal her away for a bit?" he jokes, glancing at you with soft, almost sad puppy dog eyes.

"go ahead," nick mumbles, not exactly wanting to be stuck between couple drama and kind of just wanting to make cute bracelets.

you reluctantly get up, handing the beads back to nick. a dramatic sigh slips past your lips, and you make your way over to matt, looking at him expectantly. he swallows hard, gently grasping at your arm and leading you to his room, closing the door behind him. looking back at you, he finds you standing there with your arms folded over your chest defensively. his heart melts. "baby," he starts.

you glance away, frowning. you weren't mad at him, could never be mad at him, but.. uncertain and worried and all those bad feelings that made your head hurt and stomach ache. "matt," not even a matty? now he's frowning, unsure of how to approach this without making an absolute fool of himself. you had him wrapped so tight around your pretty finger, it was unbelievable.

"you're upset with me," matt mumbles, sounding dejected and upset with himself that he'd done something to upset you. "c'mon, look at me," you won't even look at him, give him the time of day.

kind of like how he made you feel, right? he doesn't know where the thought came from, and maybe it's from how you refuse to look at him, but.. he starts to piece things together. especially when you accidentally look at him despite the whole ignoring thing you have going on. "oh, baby," he says softly, ashamed. he hadn't been looking after you the way he should, right? that's what he's thinking, and he knows he's right.

"mmph," you glance away, focusing your gaze on the ceiling. it's how a child, a particularly petulant one, would react to being neglected in the way matt had done to you. his frown only deepens, hands moving to clasp at your thighs. you flinch at the cold metal of his rings against your warm skin, however you relax moments after. "i'm sorry," he starts, knowing a simple apology won't get you to forgive him. he knows you well, after all. "c'mon, let me.." he says softly, pulling you gently towards the bed. he's careful, not too forceful in case you don't want him to touch you or anything. he's too on edge. you let out a quiet sound as the back of your knees hit the bed, and you plonk down, eyes flickering up to his.

it would seem pathetic to some, desperate to many, the way he drops to his knees infront of you. it even surprises you, and you finally look at him properly. a giggle bubbles from your throat, despite yourself, "what are you doing?" your tone is soft, upset but oozing curiosity. his baby blues meet your eyes, and he swallows hard. "makin' it up to you, ma." he runs his hands over your thighs, chest rising and falling in gentle breaths as he takes you in. all his, right? all his.

matt lets his hand gently slide over your thighs, the exhale he lets out shaky and almost whimpery in nature. "wasn't bein' nice to my girl, was i?" he shakes his head, watching the way you nod slowly, "you weren't," you say matter-of-factly, because he wasn't. matt agrees, a soft hum of acknowledgement slipping past his lips. he feels so bad for ignoring you like that, having his priorities else where even when he was busy with work.

his head dips down to suckle gently at your soft skin, tentatively kissing at it. his blue eyes lift to yours for a moment, as if asking for permission. you nod, swallowing hard. "let me make it up to you," he asks, before he continues, murmuring against your skin, "let me make it up to you. please, baby, wanna make it all better."

how could you say no to that? the sound of him begging?

"okay," you say gently, "if you'll let me rant," he moans softly against your thigh, and he nods gently, mumbling something in affirmation but you can't hear it, nor do you really care, since his touch is a little bit mind fogging. his hands grasp at your thighs, tugging you impossibly closer.

"go on," he says quietly, bringing your legs over his shoulders so he can take care of your soft skin the way he wants to, needs to. but also to hear you take your frustrations out on him, it's the least he can do, isn't it? he sounds so apologetic, it's heart melting. "i dunno, kinda feels like you don't really care about me," you say quietly, a little ashamed for even thinking it. matt lets out a whimpery sound, like it pains him to even hear that.

"no, no, no, baby," matt leaves soft marks on your skin, nibbling gently. he's only careful with you, nothing less than delicate with your body. the open mouthed kisses he leaves make a shiver run down your spine, and you continue, "it's dumb.. but, just.. i feel ignored," oh, not right now. you feel very much attended to. "and like.. i'm not really.. you don't think about me? more about your work?"

matt's hands grasp tightly at your thighs instinctively as he swallows hard, shaking his head, "ma.." it's like he doesn't even think twice as he reaches for your leggings, tugging them down quickly but gently. "lift up f'me," he mumbles quietly, pulling down the leggings with relative ease. they're discarded soon enough, and you flinch a little at the cold air on your legs. "i'm so sorry, god.." he tugs your clothed cunt closer to him with another tug to your legs, leaning in and nuzzling himself against you.

a sharp gasp slips past your lips at the friction and your fingers instantly thread through his dark hair, his groan vibrating against your core at the sensation of you tugging. "ah.." your lips part, a pretty sound escaping you. he relishes in those sounds, adores them, and he starts to coax more when he starts mouthing over your clit through the fabric. the sensation is new to you, but not at all unwarranted. his pretty groans make it even better.

"m'so sorry.." his fingers, as he wets the fabric of your underwear even more, skim over the waistband of the fabric between the two of you. he tugs, once or twice, as if asking for permission. "go on," you say softly, a giggle bubbling from you again when he pulls down your underwear with relative ease and definite eagerness. an awed groan slips past his lips at the sight of your pretty pussy, one of his favourite things in the world. "there she is.." he says softly under his breath. eyes lifting to yours.

"been neglectin' you," he addresses you directly, tone soft, then he looks to your cunt, head tilting gently, "and neglecting her, huh? how bad of me.." matt tuts, shaking his head once more. he brings you close once more, giving a gentle pat to your puffy pussy and watching as you squirm almost instantly. "should make it better for my girls, shouldn't i?" another pat, and he's diving in, letting out a groan against your folds as he kisses and slips his tongue across them.

"she tastes so good, huh? she missed me," matt's words make you cry out softly, taken off guard by how desperate he is to please you. you tighten your grip on his hair a little and even squeeze your thighs around his head a bit more, causing him to groan into your soft, wet skin. "matt, oh, shit," you whimper, and he swirls his tongue around you, shifting lower so his nose bumps against your clit with every movement of his head.

his tongue circles your entrance for a moment before he flicks his tongue into your wet hole, loving the way you practically grind down onto his face. "take what you want, that's it," his words are muffled by your heat, and how you're almost sat on his face, but you get them nonetheless, eyes fluttering down to his own meeting yours. matt's hands slide down to your ass, squeezing and kneading in his hands.

matt's not even focused on himself, no, not at all, his hips grinding into the bed slowly to gain some kind of friction at all. he might end up cumming in his pants, he doesn't care, as long as you feel good and wanted. he never wants you to feel ignored or neglected again. you're his girl, his. "holy fucking shit," he's good with his mouth, like, good. and he knows it, lord does he know it.

the moment your hips start to stutter from his mouth sucking and licking at your pretty pussy, he doesn't let up, only making his movements more intense and pleasurable for you.

"that's it, fuck," he grunts, your thighs squeezing around his head once more. he doesn't even mind it, not at all. in fact, it gets him going, nose bumping against your clit enough to have you whining and squirming against his face, that familiar tight knot of arousal squeezing in your abdomen. matt can feel it too, as he eats you out like his life depends on it, which to him, it really does. "yeah, baby, there we go, that's it, come all over my face, make a mess on me, shit.."

you in fact, do, without any shame in the world. why feel shame when your man was making you feel so fucking amazing? your thighs tremble around his head and he helps you ride out your orgasm, licking slowly to bring you back down to earth without overstimulating you. soon, he pulls back, not even minding the state of well, his face. "did so good for me," he mumbles breathlessly, and you swallow hard. "that.. felt.. oh my god, matthew." a chuckle escapes him at the use of matthew and not just matt, and he gently pushes up off his knees to lay down on the bed on his back. his hands find your hips, slowly bringing you over on top of him.

"matthew, huh?" matt smiles, a gentle, loving smile that tells you exactly how much he cares for and adores you. a little grunt slips past his lips as he tugs his boxers down enough to free his cock, pre cum leaking from it due to how he was basically humping the bed earlier. your eyes flutter over him as you look down at him, swallowing hard, and he murmurs, "so pretty, ma," he gives his cock a few quick strokes, before he lines himself up with your tight hole. "i got you.."

you let out a pitiful little whine when he pulls you down onto him, the stretch making your lips part with soft noises, and matt tilts his head, taking in your form as you squirm. "relax for me.. i've got you.." his eyes flutter over your body, adoringly. his heart swells with warmth, just.. he can't believe he's so lucky. "i'm gonna fuckin'.. explode," you mumble breathlessly.

"i'll pick up the pieces, baby," he leans back against the headboard, hands squeezing at your hips. matt swallows hard, just in awe for a moment. "gorgeous, gorgeous girl. how'd i get so damn lucky?" he lets you adjust to him for a moment, waiting for the greenlight. "you'd be even luckier if you started movin'," ever the graceful, you are, he thinks to himself, and a laugh escapes him again.

"right, right, sorry," a giggle escapes you too, but it soon melts into a moan when he lifts you up, only to drop you back down. his eyes flutter to yours, baby blues dark with sheer want, and he grunts under his breath at how tight you are. "wish i could stay buried in your pussy forever, honey," he guides your movements a few more times till you find a rhythm, however his hands remain on your thighs to hold you up if you get tired.

"mmh, shit, shit, shit," your love for profanity only fuels his adoration for you, his hands squeezing at your thighs as you bounced on his cock, the sounds of skin slapping against skin hitting your ears. he didn't think about how loud the two of you were being and the fact his door was open, no, he wanted to make you feel as loved and wanted as you should. "feels so good, matt, mmh!"

he's doing a very good job at it too.

"that's it, fuck, look so pretty ridin' my dick like that, you like that, mama? yeah.." his eyes follow the way your tits bounce beneath your top, and he pushes up the fabric so he can get a good view of them. no one's ever looked at you with such adoration like that, it's intoxicating. matt greedily gropes at you, squeezing and flicking your nipples just because. and because it makes you clench around him so good. "these pretty titties, fuck."

matt swallows hard, getting lost in you as you get lost in him too, holding onto his hoodie tight as you lift your hips up and down. "never wanna make you feel bad again, never wanna do that. m'so sorry baby, fuck, you forgive me? forgive me, please, ma?" he's practically begging, hands squeezing your body all over, showing how much he loves you. "always got time for my baby, for my girl. even if i don't, gonna make it, promise, fuckin'.. promise," he mumbles, words borderline incoherent.

it makes you smile, it makes you beam, and you're not mad at him. you'd stopped being upset with him since he made you come all over his face, to be totally honest. "it's okay, it's okay," you murmur softly, "i forgive you, okay? i forgive you." matt squeezes your hips once more, bucking his own into you to drive himself deeper inside of you. the way you squeeze around him is intoxicating.

"gonna come, ma, shit," matt whimpers, and you coo softly at his whiny tone, "yeah? go on, come for me," he whines shakily, gripping your thighs tighter and thrusting up into you harder. his chest rises and falls in quick breaths, dark hair falling over his eyes as he lets out soft sounds as pretty as yours. "where d'you want it?" he asks breathlessly, eyes searching yours.

"want it inside," just the sound of your voice saying shit like that has him groaning, hips stuttering as he feels himself reach that peak, ropes of cum painting your walls as he lets go. you find yourself gushing around him around the same time too, a shaky series of moans and whines slipping past your lips. matt takes the opportunity to wrap his arms around you and press your body against his. his head soon nuzzles into the crook of your neck. "i love you so much," he breathes out.

"love you too," you murmur in response, relaxing into him. you're happy to stay there for a while.

or go again.

๋࣭ ⭑ taglist / @mattslolita , @st7rnioioss , @flairdean , @mattsluv , @bepositiveforachange , @poetatorturadaa , @onlynextdoor

๋࣭ ⭑ line dividers / @rookthornesartistry

[sojumamii]

˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧always a brat ˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧

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summary: no matter how hard he tries,megumi is always gonna be a spoiled brat that hates to share, especially when it's you he's sharing.

tags: megumi x fem/afab! reader, childhood friends to lovers, slight slight angst mostly cute fluff, flustered pining megumi, jealousy (cute), dad gojo, nanami is so cool (derogatory) this is me wanting cute megumi content bc i miss him too much. Honestly I gave a huge backstory about you and megumi's childhood LMAO enjoy

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It wasn't so long ago that a neurotic white haired lanky man showed up at your doorstep, alongside a bored, odd-haired child to explain curses, and the art of jujutsu sorcery.Yadayada some bad people were looking for you because you have a powerful gift yadayada Gojo can help nurture your talents and keep you from being caught by those bad people because he's a big strong guy who supposedly ruined the world (idk the freak kept yapping for so long) yadayada you may or may not die but you'll be helping people, and not have to be around mean family members who think you're weird for seeing scary monsters they don't believe are real. (showed them)

The whole time this child-highjacker was talking you couldn't help but stare at the young boy about your age hiding behind him, not really out of fear but of disinterest, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else.

Gojo catching on concluded his speech and gestured towards Megumi,"Ah! This little handsome punk right here is Megumi Fushiguro another cute stray i've taken under my wing! You're probably about the same age, first grader? Sooo! I'm sure you're gonna be best friends in no time!" he yelled animatedly, smile wide and mischievous.

Megumi scoffed in response, turning and walking away to a nearby car. You gasped at how so blatantly rude he was to your face, your face painted with obvious irritation. At your reaction Gojo chuckled and reached down to ruffle your (h/c) hair presenting you with a thumbs up.

"Don't mind him, I've come learn he's naturally moody, like is that kid really six years old,..but i'm sure he'll come around...I mean he really has no choice as you two will be a team from now on. Anyways! Let's get you two something to eat..y'like kikufuku?!" Shiny blue eyes peaked from round black sunglasses, you simply shrugged and walked with him to the car with your silly little backpack and your new future.

Growing up with Megumi was a slightly mixed bag, but instead of growing irritated of him, he fascinated you. Despite his more shadowy personality, you were rather fond of him right away,finding his hot temperament and need to be serious rather endearing and cute much to his open and endless dismay.

You wondered how this could be someone your age, as Megumi was much more composed than the supposed adult now taking care of you. He was indifferent to both you and Gojo, only ever interacting with his elder step-sister Tsumiki, who urged him to be kinder and more approachable especially since you two were in the same predicament. Megumi would scoff and tell her to leave him alone and that he didn't wanna make friends just because they're stuck together. You never took offense but it would annoy you that you had the decency to be kind but he wasn't discreet with his attitude.

"Right..like I know i'm the adult but it's kind shooting down my pride that this kid doesn't like me yet, i'm not above bribes..." Gojo had whispered to you after you secretly inquired about the other child, having a difficult time adjusting to your new living situation, the young boy's attitude towards you was not welcoming and though you did your best to leave him alone, you would still extend an arm out as gently as possible. Although, you were also not above checking Megumi's attitude which would result in some major clashes that would make Gojo fret over household repairs.

After walking you guys home from school Gojo would figure out what to feed you before training and homework, allowing you to snack as he stressfully lamented over what to feed the three of you. You're all seated at the table with your homework laid out, peckish from a long day of being an elementary aged child. Tsumiki sat primly in her chair sipping on a pink carton of strawberry milk, a staple in the gojo-fushiguro-(l/n) household. Excitedly you ask her if there were anymore boxes of the heavily worshipped beverages left.

She nodded sweetly, soft brown locks swaying,"Yeah (y/n) there's one more left with your name on it!"

You beam happily out of your seat, ready to grab your treat and announce to your guardian that more strawberry milk was to be added to the grocery list. Until...

.

.

You fall face first onto the firmness of the tatami mat and hear the rapid stomping of feet fleeing to the cabinet where your sacred treasure lay. Furious you look up at Megumi who was now indifferently drinking the last carton, that you had so openly claimed, a claim that was co-signed and notarized by Tsumiki. The absolute audacity of this bratty spoiled motherfu-

"Meg-" Tsumiki began to scold right before you exploded.

"You bitch!" you shrieked, you hear Tsumiki gasp at your profanity, but your anger was at boiling point with this broom haired kid. Megumi retained his look of indifference which furthered enraged you. Megumi expected you to get mad and yell at him but what he didn't expect was-

"OOF!" Megumi fell backwards roughly on the floor, as you tackled him, strawberry milk carton flying out of his hand, destination unknown. You're on him pulling as harshly as your tiny fists allow on his hair, he yells pushing you back but you're relentless!

"Calm down what's your deal you freak it's just strawberry milk!"

"You tripped me to get it you selfish brat! Even though you knew i wanted it!"

"You obviously didn't want it that bad! Should've been more alert!" he successfully gets you off of him, shoving you to the living room.

"Guys please!" You both ignore Tsumiki

"Ugh! You're such a whiny little bitch!" You lunge at him again with your fist ready,unbeknownst to you there's glowing flames of energy coursing through it,he narrowly evades it by moving his head. Making impact with the sofa, it splits in half, wooden floor below absolutely destroyed.

Megumi grunts in anger, his fist glowing as well ready to make impact with you, quickly you push him off and he blows a hole through the television and the wall behind it. Stubbornly you both make way to each other with powered filled fist ready to collide.

"ENOUGH! What's the matter you two!" Gojo catches both of your fists,pulling you two off the floor, holding the both of you in each hand, he angrily looks back and forth between you and the destroyed living room. "How did this happen! Why are you two trying rip each others' heads off and why is the living room a-oh?"

A lightbulb flickers over him," Well I'll be damned! You two finally managed to produce cursed energy,how exciting!" The older man hugs you both tightly, crushing your lungs.

"Too bad it took you guys trying to kill each other...which reminds me we need to have a little lesson on teamwork, and household construction you absolute demon children!" He gives a preview of your 3 hour long lecture by throwing you two into the hole you just punched in the floor.

.

.

.

After that incident you understood how someone so deceptively calm like Megumi was to be a sorcerer, he was crazy, a an absolute psycho you'd say. Gojo's words from a previous time replay in your mind:

"You have to be a little crazy to handle being jujutsu sorcerer."

Through a lot of exposure therapy, Megumi eventually got used to your presence, and actually began to enjoy it, seeking it even. Once you were both a little older and still around each other, he figured he may as well get along with you. It's not that he didn't like you (anymore) or found you annoying (anymore) he realized he was just used to Tsumiki, and didn't care for any more than that and was surprising to himself very combative to any sort of change. But he was making the effort to fix that immature side of him and be more receptive and open to you and gojo.

Despite that, the more missions you two shadowed, the longer you lived together and went to school, the closer you became and the tighter your bond felt. You became an inseparable pair, hanging out outside of sorcery and schooling, in your rooms, sharing hobbies and tastes in music, constant laughter and smiles were consistently heard and shared between you two. Witnessed fondly by Tsumiki and Gojo who had their own little gossip circle over mochi and tea. Strawberry milk was no longer allowed in the household.

This unshakable bond was like concrete, no matter the circumstances, no matter how terrifying going out on missions became and the atrocities you experienced, you guys relied on each other, minds and hearts in perfect synergy the older you became. Getting to your first year of jujutsu tech was something you both couldn't believe finally came around, now almost 10 years later, and your relationship was still thriving! Yuji and Nobara blending in perfectly to your small shared circle!

But now one person has began to shake that bond and making Megumi's possessive bratty habits rear their ugly head.

It's making Megumi regret coming to this stupid sorcerer school with the stupid handsome suit wearing ex-salarymen sorcerers who have stupid sorcery knowledge and wisdom. Who are stupidly caring and kind with cute quirks like loving bread, fuckin loser (yet megumi hates red bell pepper)

This thought process was pissing him off, and so was the existence of a specific grade 1 sorcerer.

"Nanami is so strong! His ratio technique is so cool!"

"Nanami is helping me with my precision and aim! He's so kind!"

"Nanami is such a gentleman, he tucked me to sleep in the car on the way home from a mission! A sweet handsome guy like him must have no problem getting da-"

"Alright! I get it Nanami is so great and awesome! You know it's a little inappropriate to have a crush on your superiors!" Megumi grumbles as he slams his hand on the table,eyebrows raised at you. What's so great about a guy who wears a suit to exorcise curses? fuckin weirdo

Your eyes widen as a flush takes over your cheeks, "Gumi don't be mean! I don't have a crush on Nanami, I'm just saying how kind he is and how much i've learned from him!" your lips form a pout.

"Really? Then why is your face red? Why are your eyes sparkling when you talk about him?What's the point in calling him handsome if you're not crushing on him! You sound like a love sick school girl!" He bites back.

You raise your brows and cross your arms,"You know your bratty attitude wasn't cute when we were kids and it's definitely not cute now! So what if I admire my mentor or compliment his looks! Yuji's complimented my looks and I don't see you calling him a love sick school girl!"

Internally he's kicking himself, he doesn't understand why hearing about Nanami from you is making him react this way. It feels like someone else is piloting his brain right now (or maybe his six year old self) especially when he utters his next words,"Maybe you should start hanging out with Nanami since he's so cool and special!"

"'You like me or something huh? Can't stand me looking at someone else!"You stand up, fists on the table, you lean your body over to Megumi's side of the table, face to face your (e/c) eyes give him a heated glare.

Now it's Megumi's turn to flush red, breaking his neck to look away from your intimidatingly beautiful eyes, his heart snaps.

"Are you jealous Gumi? Is that it? You want me to look at you only?" You inch closer, calling him out on his bluff.

'WHAT! Oh god.. no no no, awe shit...god damn it what am I thinking, beautiful eyes? I mean she does have beautiful eyes, and she's beauti- oh my god? She asked if I like her? I think that's what this is...heart pumping? Am I jealous of Nanami? Idiot. Why did I have to run my mouth like that? Since when do I lose my cool this bad nowadays?!" Megumi's thoughts race 100 miles per hour, body running hot from the interrogation.

"J-Jel-Jealous? What the hell would I have to be jealous of Nanami for!" His delicately pretty face twisted in confusion and irritation.

"I don't know gumi, how about you enlighten me" You smirk, cornering him like he's a feral possum, he's not getting out of this one unscathed.

He never really got into the specifics of his feelings for you, of course he liked you, or else he wouldn't stick around. You guys were so close it was honestly concerning to others and himself, you were his most treasured person (sacred one would say) He has been through major life experiences, and struggles with you, you grew up together. You had a domestic routine, a result of living together for years, even in the same house you guys slept in each other's rooms (and still do even though the dorms prohibit it) watched tv together, read together, cooked for each other, studied...went on outings... had matching rings ... matching sweaters.. and oh god is he already dating you?

That's not all, his shikigami adored you, you were there when he summoned his first ones, the divine dogs that he appropriately named shiro and kuro, and boy you were so excited to see them, the dogs took an instant liking to your adoration, and eventually you bonded with them they look out for you on missions. As a child that cemented for Megumi that you were someone he held dear and was 100% certain you had truly kind and pure heart if his shikigami were so trusting of you.

Same thing happened with his other shikigami; Nue would nuzzle into you despite his ever growing body whether it was after a successful mission or as soon as it was summoned for training, excited rust colored wings and a happy screech flocked your way. Gama and rabbit escape jumping on your shoulders in greeting or to rest.

When he lost Shiro and Orochi, you made him a pretty silver charm necklace with a snake and pretty white wolf, letting him mourn his fallen companions in the comfort of his bed as he sobbed heart wrenchingly in your arms and expressed his deep appreciation that you allowed him have something of them to carry with him

That memory is specifically one he holds so dearly, he remembers how much you reassured him that it was okay to mourn his shikigami and Yuji and that it wasn't his fault they died, and that this situation shouldn't make him jaded in making bonds with others; reality was that you guys were all still so young so to see one of you die was heartbreaking no matter how normal it was in your world.

looking back he feels that's when he began realizing his feelings ran deeper than initially imagined. It was instinct for him to protect you, comfort you and even just care for you in any way possible. Always making sure you were fed and hydrated, well rested, not overstrained, comforting you when missions you went on without him went awry, carrying you to bed when you fell asleep in the common room at the dormitory, or in the car on the way home.

If it was cold he made sure you had a sweater on before just in case or disregard his coldness by taking off his sweater and tenderly putting it on you (whilst grumbling and nagging for you to bring one, though Megumi would never admit so brazenly he loved seeing you in his clothes, that's his secret to keep.)

From across the way, Yuji and Nobara watch the spectacle going on at your table, it was very rare for you and Megumi to fight, you guys bickered for sure, you all did, but Megumi never lost his cool with you in those instances like he did with them. Usually if you fought it was over very serious things, like injuries on missions, mahoraga... the drawbacks of your technique on your body.. but never a serious argument on something so...stupid? Plus it wasn't in either of your introverted natures to display such a spectacle.

"What are those two screaming at each other about? I could've sworn I heard Fushiguro saying Nanamin's name a few times?" Yuji glances back at Nobara, his brown eyes curious as to what his favorite mentor had to do with your squabble, he takes a handful of fries while Nobara looks directly at her phone to take a photo, oblivious to her lack of fries.

"I'm thinking Fushiguro is jealous that his sweet little (y/n) has her eyes on someone else for once, but for him to throw a tantrum over a harmless crush on a mentor is a level of pathetic I never expected him to be on." Kugisaki stifles her laughter, brushing her auburn hair back, not so subtly eavesdropping on the argument.(not like she could help it, she's nosy plus you guys are hard to ignore right now)

"I could see why someone would for fall for Nanamin! He's a really a gentleman! Strong too! I'd feel threatened too if I was him. But doesn't he know (y/n) really likes him? They're super close like that" The pink haired boy states like it's a simple answer as any. Nobara rolls her eyes, annoyed at the men in her class.

"Fushiguro is emotionally constipated, he may not really understand that he has feelings for her because they've always been close, but because (y/n) is girl she's smarter and knows better! She's trying to get it out of him, twenty bucks says she gets him to confess by the end of today?" Nobara sticks her hand out to Yuji, he smiles a look for determination on his face as he shakes her hand.

"You're on! Twenty bucks says she gets him to confess here and now!" They both nod to seal their deal.

"What are you guys betting on?" A voice in their booth asks. The students squeak as Gojo makes his presence known, his face inquisitive and sly.

"That (y/n) is gonna get Fushiguro to confess his feelings! It's bound to happen!" Itadori explains.

Gojo sniffles at the response, sighing dramatically while putting a hand over his heart,collapsing wordlessly into the booth end face planting on the table, Yuji softly pats his teachers back for comfort,while Kugisaki rolls her eyes at the ridiculous scenes in front of her, she turns back to your table and gasps, phone falling out of her grip.

Gojo and Yuji immediately look up, jaws dropping in shock at the scene in front of them.

Megumi and you were standing away from your table,his hand on your waist, the other holding the side of your face as both your lips were gently pressed together, you on your tippy toes and arms around his neck. They witness the gentleness of the moment, both your eyes full of fondness,and affection as your lips separate. A pretty blush overtakes the atmosphere.

"Oh my babies! They're growing up too fast! One day they're destroying the house and trying to kill each other over strawberry milk then before you know it they're getting married!" Gojo babbles through escalating sobs, accepting the tissues Yuji's offered him and cries into said student's shoulders.

Nobara and Yuji share a questioning look on the qualifications of gojo being a parent and the nature of your childhood, Yuji comforts his sensei again,"Fushiguro and (y/n) are always gonna be your babies gojo! Honestly I'm j-just s-so I'm so proud of Fushiguro being so honest about his feeheeeliiiings" the pinked haired boy chokes through tears, wiping his runny nose on his uniform

Kugisaki looks at the two emotional men in disgust, opting to watch the romantic soap opera in front of her as a live studio audience member, smiling softly to herself, as though she wouldn't be as foolish as her sensei and friend to openly admit it, she was full of pride for you too! You'd been pining over Megumi for forever even though you weren't aware of it and you always described how you used to feel lonely until you met him and no matter what you guys go through you're always there-

"Those two are finally together I can't believe it!! I'm so happy!" the hazel eyed girl joins the huddle of Yuji and Gojo, tears flowing out her eyes. All of this goes ignored and unbeknownst to you and Megumi.

You smile brightly at the black haired boy, playing with the hairs behind his neck,"See Gumi, was that so hard to admit?" You tease him, he grunts, eyes squeezed shut in embarrassed annoyance.

He softly flicks your forehead, an old habit from middle school," Shut up... I didn't really know that's what that was...but now that you're mine, that means no more Nanami talk right? Or anyone that's not me for that matter.." pretty red flush stains his fair skin.

You giggle and kiss his cheek,"Hmmm I don't know Okkutsu is a reaaaaal cutie.." you pretend to ponder tilting your head in thought.

Megumi groans and kisses you again, more confident and stern,"You're an absolute pain."

"Don't worry Gumi you're my only and favorite one. I've always been yours silly." You wink, a pink blush dusting the both of you again. Megumi presses a chaste kiss, holding your hand and grabbing both your bags to get ready to leave for training after your longer than intended lunch, you're interrupted by a deep,polite voice.

"(y/l/n),Fushiguro, my apologies for bothering you both, I just wanted to quickly speak to Miss (y/l/n), here this is research I found on techniques similar to your own and information about its users.. I hope the information is helpful to you in your journey as a sorcerer." Nanami hands you a few books with various note tabs sticking out of them. You stare at it wide eyed, stunned and excited to learn more about your technique... and how much time and effort it took a busy man like Nanami to do...Seriously, what a gentleman...

You bow in appreciation,blush reappearing, "Thank you Nanami, I'm sure this will be very insightful!" the man smiles back and nods,"Of course, be sure to let me know what else you may want to know.That being said I've taken enough of your guys' time, goodbye for now."

Megumi scoffs, irritation palpable at his senior,"Tch. Whatever womanizer."He tugs at your hand and drags you away quickly to the exit and as far away from the dashing gentleman of a sorcerer. Damn...he's good.

As you're walking you smack his shoulder in reprimand,"gumi that was rude! you're always gonna be brat who does whatever he wants!" you're scolding him but it's in between giggles and the most loving soft gaze he's used to seeing in your eyes, now that he knows what it is, it makes him shy. He kisses your face as a distraction to your lecture (fat chance.)

And what could Megumi say, you make him crazy, he's always gonna put his foot down for what's his. He silently kisses the back of your hand like a guilty puppy.

he'll apologize to nanami soon

.

.

.

Taken aback Nanami blinks in confusion,"Womanizer?" he repeats. Megumi's vengeful words replay in his mind, unable to figure out an explanation.

He looks back at Itadori's table when the sound of rambunctious laughter invades the dining hall, confused hazel eyes hidden behind his opaque lenses.

"Why are you laughing?"

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I hope you guys liked my first work on here!! This was written on a whim with no specific outline (explains the inconsequential lore dump as this is one shot or who knows!!) hope you guys love jealous and bratty Megumi. As calm and collected as he is I imagine when hes in love so many emotions come up he doesn't know how to define them or properly communicate them so he says the first thing his brain tells him even when he himself knows rationally its crazy to say or think.

[emmyrosee]

Osamu leaves his phone number on napkins as a way to flirt with you.

You find them everywhere. Anywhere. It’s almost always the same thing- a chicken scratched version of your name, a crudely drawn winky face, and his phone number. If it wasn’t his phone number, it was another silly flirt, cheesy as can be and making your cheeks heat up each and every time you catch it.

who needs the galaxy when the only stars i want are in your eyes?

if i could rearrange the alphabet, id put U and I together

your hand looks heavy… want me to hold it for you?

call me ;}

And you’d be completely smitten with these originally, rolling your eyes and telling him how inappropriate it was leaving little napkins scattered around the back of Onigiri Miya for you.

But you don’t have to. Because you’ve been engaged for seven months by now.

“You don’t have to waste the napkins like this,” you snip playfully, tossing a wad onto the desk he’s occupied at. “You could very easily just text me your silly ass flirts.”

He chuckles and shakes his head, standing up and strutting confidently towards you. “You wound me baby,” he says, pulling you in for an embrace. “Is it a crime to leave little love letters for my little love?” You fake a gag and he rolls his eyes before pulling you in for a hug, “besides, how will everyone know you’re mine if I don’t?”

“I wear a fat rock on my finger every day, we come in together, and I know you’ve given me marks that I’ve been unable to cover- trust me, I think they get it.”

He lets his eyes glaze up and down before settling on your lips again, “well what if I just want you to know I love you? Huh?”

“I come back here, and you tell me,” you offer with another kiss, which he takes happily. “You always tell me.” Your arms snake around his thick neck, fingers playing with the short hairs of his undercut just to hear him shiver. He settles his hands on your waist and gives you a small, playful pout.

“You really don’t like my napkin-flirts?”

“I don’t like you wasting napkins,” you snort. “Gotta leave some for the customers and staff, angel boy.”

He sighs dramatically, “fine. No more flirt napkins.”

“Good,” you say, smiling. In truth, it does seem weird that you’ll start walking into work without crude little napkins flirting with you, but it’s for the best. And it is weird for a few days, even to the point some of your staff asks about the lack of affectionate little notes.

But the strange feeling doesn’t last.

Instead, it upgrades to bright pink sticky notes, littered around the shop in a familiar fashion to the napkins, only now, stuck in place for you to find throughout the restaurant.

And every now and again, all over the house. All over.

But who would’ve known, he was right.

Because you’d be lying if you say you do hate the unprofessional little reminders.