#hes just set dressing and it makes me sad | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gojonanami · 6 months ago

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❝ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐎𝐍𝐄 ❞

❝ SATORU GOJO IS THE HONORED ONE - AND HE'S MORE THAN HONORED TO BREED YOU ! ❞

✧ pairing: gojo satoru x sorcerer!reader

✧ summary: it's your duty as the wife of the clan head to help your husband get dressed -- even for battle. but that didn't mean he couldn't spend some time undressing you. aka fucking gojo in his shinjuku showdown outfit

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, canon compliant, feral gojo, Ijichi featured, dom!gojo, breeding kink, dirty talk, oral (f), fingering (f! receiving), sex (p in v), mirror sex, clothed sex, creampie, implied multiple rounds, multiple positions, swearing,

✧ w/c: 7,946

✧ now playing: feature one of sab's kinktober

“Perfect,”

The word slips from your lips without a second thought as you slip the haori over his shoulders, snow locks against the coal colored silk, slick as steel and light as a feather, yet carrying the heft of expense.

Just as your husband did.

Little words could describe Satoru Gojo — the most common being the strongest — unmatched strength that matched his flawless appearance and even more unsullied skill set. Curses would sooner exorcise themselves rather than face him, and those who didn’t, well, they did not have long to linger on their mistake.

But you didn’t think of him as the strongest. No, your husband was so much more than that. A teacher. A mentor. A friend. An idiot (but he would insist that he was your idiot, and he very much was). And he was perfect.

A remark you knew many would balk at, and even now — as you dressed your husband, at his insistence, fingers helping him pull the fabric over his body, before smoothing it over his muscle and the word fell from you without a second thought — you caught glimpse of a grimace on Ijichi’s face in the mirror.

“Ijichi, you should go before I slap the shit out of you for your expression,” Ijichi squeaks in horror before slipping from the room, quiet click of the door welcoming silence, only for a moment, “what was that again, sweetheart?”

You roll your eyes, “should I really indulge you in making your ego any bigger? You may defeat Sukuna with just the sheer size and weight of it,” you tease, fingers smoothing and adjusting his haori.

“Think that would be a victory either way, sweetheart,” his fingers find yours, weaving with your own — miraculously soft even with bearing the weight of the world in his hands alone, “but I don’t want to win in such a boring way, especially to Sukuna,”

“And why’s that?” His lips curl.

“Because I have to look cool in front of my precious students, don’t I?” you see a hint of sadness linger in his gaze — and you hear the unspoken words, especially Megumi, but the smile slides back on as usual, “I can’t have myself embarrassing myself can I? You’d never let me live it down,”

“Oh, no I wouldn’t,” your fingers slide up to cup his cheek, “but you’d expect nothing less from your wife, now would you?”

And he grins, just as he did the day he had proposed to you, at the classroom at Jujutsu Tech where you first met, deep reds and oranges flooding the wood paneled room, painting it as it only could in the evenings, but even the sun paled in comparison to Satoru on his knee, lips curled in your favorite smile — the very one he gave you every day.

“My wife,” he hums, and you have to stop yourself from biting your lip and tense your muscles so you didn’t jump him then and there.

“What about it?” he runs the back of his fingers over your cheek.

“Just glad I convinced you to let us get married early,” not that it took much convincing at all — only a single look after he was unsealed and several minutes of making out later, and he had gotten Ijichi to get the registration and paperwork for him — the very papers Satoru had prepared before Shibuya, “because now you’re stuck with me, wifey,”

You chuckle, your fingers finding his as they brushed your cheek, turning your head to kiss his fingers, “I’ve been stuck with you from the moment we met,”

And you had been — you hadn’t known peace since he had thrown that Jujutsu Tech classroom door open all those years ago, with a welcome party prepared for you and the other first years, microphone in hand as he introduced each of you. And it wasn’t his strength or his skill or even his stupidity that charmed you — but the goddamn smile on his lips.

Funny, how everyone was so preoccupied with his eyes, when every inch of his was just as captivating—

“Think you’re going to lose me now, Toru?” You rub your thumb across the length of his cheek, “don’t know if I could ever live without you,”

“Oh yeah?” he wraps his arms around your waist, his warm form enveloping you, “no regrets?”

“Only one,” and he tilts his head, blues gleaming with the low light of the room, catching like sunlight against waves, as your fingers traced down to the smooth silk of his clothes, “that we never got married in a formal ceremony,”

“If I recall, you were in just as much of a rush as me,” his lips graze your jaw, threads of heat slipping up and down every inch of your body, a kiss pressed to the soft skin behind your ear, “you barely wanted to even have the small ceremony we did,”

“That’s because someone kept touching me while I got ready,” and he did, as you changed into a dress you selected for the small ceremony — or rather you tried, as his warm palms slid up your body, his mouth covering your soft gasps and protests, “or do you forget that you nearly fucked me against the wall right outside the room we were going to marry?”

“It’s not my fault my wife is so tempting, they say my technique is deadly, but you yourself are far more dangerous,” he hummed, another kiss against your cheek, as his thumb and forefinger cups your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze in the mirror, “why the want a formal ceremony anyway? If I remember, you said formal ceremonies were only for the attendees rather than the couple,”

“Well, maybe I saw something that changed my mind,” or someone in something—

“Oh? And what could change my incredibly stubborn wife’s mind?”

You hate him — hate the teasing glint in his gaze because he knows exactly why, as he noses the hollow of your neck, lips grazing your flushed skin, “You know why,” and he does, he sees it in the way your gaze lingers across his body, the way you shiver when his palm slips down your hip only to squeeze, and in the soft sound that leaves your lips when his fingers trace down your chin to the valley of your chest.

“I’d like to hear you say it, sweetheart,” he presses himself flush to your back, heat seeping through the fabric, just as his breath warmed your skin, “don’t tell me you forgot how to use your words,”

“You’re the worst,” and his chuckle reverberates against you, sending a shiver up your body, his hands sliding down the front of your shirt until he reaches the hem, fingers toying with the fabric.

“And what does that make you since you married me?”

“A fool,” your lips curl, his eyes meeting yours, “but a very smart one,” and he clicks his tongue.

“So smart and yet she can’t answer a simple question,” you sigh, and his fingers, finally, slide underneath against your bare stomach.

“You just want me to stroke your ego,” and he grins at you in the mirror, robes nearly engulfing your form now.

“Oh, that’s not all I want you to stroke,” your snort is cut off by a gasp as his palms slide under your bra, “I’ll just keep teasing you until you break,” and his fingers tease your pert nipples, a wave of heat headed straight for your cunt, “and y’know I can, wifey.”

~~~

“Hngh, Toru, please—”

Satoru doesn’t know what he loves more — the sound of his name on your lips, desperation on your tongue, the same tongue that he had tasted again and again or the sight of you below him, spread out on his desk, papers and books long crumpled and pushed onto the floor — but he doesn’t need to choose a favorite thing when it comes to you.

Because every single thing is his favorite.

“If you want me to stop, you can try, sweetheart,” he presses a kiss to your thigh, teeth grazing the soft flesh, another mark blooming among the rest, a field of reds and purples he could spend hours exploring, “don’t know how far you’d get,”

His fingers press your thighs further apart, with the barest hint of strength, and you’re still utterly restrained under his touch — a lovely butterfly pinned for his viewing — and what a view it was.

“Fucker,” you pout at him half-heartedly, your kiss ruined lips and fucked out gaze doing nothing to help your case, “we were supposed to be getting you dressed for—“

“Then there’s no problem,” his fingers tug your blouse over your head, your bra askew from his eager fingers, and his hand reaches around to undo the clasp. But he doesn’t pull it away with his fingers, but instead bends down to away the intruding garment, “because you’re the only one getting undressed, sweets,”

There was something about the thought — and the sight — of you completely bare for him, at his mercy naked and vulnerable, while he stood clad in the clothes meant for battle. His cock twitched, he supposed this was a battle of kind — as he pushed his sleeves up — a battle of how many times he could cum inside you.

“Satoru—“ you squeal as he nearly rips away your panties, leaving you bare for him, your thighs closing on reflex, only for him to press them back apart, “fuck—“

“That’s what I’m trying to do, sweetheart,” he clicks his tongue, bringing your soaked panties to his nose to smell, before pocketing them, a grin on his lips, “a good luck charm,”

You gape at him, half horrified and half amused at the thought of the Gojo elders somehow finding out that the Gojo clan head’s clothes had been defiled by your underwear — though you were sure they expected nothing less from Satoru Gojo.

But even so, you can’t bring yourself to complain, “You don’t need luck to win,” and he scoffs lightly, his warm palm sliding up your thigh, lips pressing hot kisses up your shin, right to your knee, “you just need to know I’ll kick your ass if you don’t make it back in one piece to me,” your fingers run through his soft locks, before tracing over his cheek.

“I know, and the thought of you waiting for me is all I need,” he turns to your hand, lips pressing a kiss against the cool metal of your wedding ring, “and it wasn’t for that,” and he’s shifting, settling fully between your thighs, lips inches from your sopping pussy, “it’s for making sure I can breed you right,”

His fingers brush against your fluttering walls, index finger tracing the outer walls with the very tip, pulling and tugging until you were spread out completely, messy pussy on display just for him. You couldn’t squirm under his the wet squelch making your cheeks burn, “S-stop teasing, just—“

You moan as he sinks a thick finger into you, knuckle deep and fast, “So needy for someone who was whining a second ago about stopping,” it doesn’t take long for a second finger to join, stretching out your perfect pussy, warm walls pulling him deeper each time he pulled out, his wrist and palm drenched in your juices, “but y’know I can’t stop, wifey, it’s our duty, right? Duty to produce an heir, but more importantly,” And a third finger sinks inside, as he peers up at you, lips parted in a sweet moan that makes his cock throb, ready to bust without a single touch, because he doesn’t need touch — not when it’s you under him, “my duty to fuck and yours to be fucked,”

And your cunt squeezes his fingers at his vulgar words, a coil growing tighter in the pit of your stomach, heat building, as you can’t help moan his name, “and how will we fulfill our duty if I don’t prepare you, huh? Gotta make sure you’re ready, hm?”

His thumb rubs over your aching clit, the lewd noises of your slick nearly white noise to your ears as pleasure builds, every muscle taut underneath his touch. He’s pumping faster and harder, nails dragging over your walls, until his fingers find that spot you love — the one he knows how to hit again and again, and he does.

Your head lolls back against the desk, pleasure ripping up your spine, “I’m—“

And that’s the only warning you give before you cum, name on your lips as your back arches, as he fingerfucks you through your orgasm, working you down from your high. You're panting, chest heaving as he slowly eases his fingers from you, the emptiness making you whine.

Your eyes flutter open to the sight of him licking his fingers clean of your cum, tongue darting across his lips, a glint in his eyes.

“You’re so sweet I can never get enough of you,” and he lifts a finger to your lips, letting you taste yourself on his digit, obediently closing your mouth around it, until he’s dragging it out, pulling at your bottom lip, “you’re dripping from both lips aren’t you?”

“That’s your fault,” god, you’re too fucking cute, thighs twitching as he leaned down to your soaked cunt, a pretty flushed pink, “you made a mess,” and his tongue licks a stripe up your leaking walls, sparks blooming from the hot muscle flicking against your hard clit.

“Then I guess it’s my responsibility to clean you up,”

Satoru Gojo is always too much — it’s too much the way his tongue drags over the seam of your cunt, it’s too much when his nose bumps against your clit when he buries his face in your pussy, your fingers curling in his white locks, and it’s too much when you feel his grunts and moans resonate against your drenched folds.

It was too much.

“How are you so soft?” He mumbles, words whispered against your puffy clit before he kisses it, “you say I don’t play fair but you were unfair from the moment I met you,” he reaches down, palming at his erection, “and I knew you’d be mine,” Your eyes find his lips less than an inch from your pussy, chin and lips shiny with your cum and his spit, “you and this sweet pussy,”

And he’s slurping every ounce of your essence you give him, greedily lapping at you as if he’d rather drown in your juices than breath real air, “fuck, Toru, slow down—“ toes curling as you

He clicks his tongue, your head rolling back as your nails dig into his scalp, “You shouldn’t lie, sweets, not when this pretty girl is so honest,” the only sound being the wet squelch of your

“Satoru Gojo!” A familiar voice rings out followed by several knocks, “how long do you expect to keep us waiting?”

Fuck. And there was the reason you two were getting sresssd to begin with — a showing before Gakuganji and the Gojo clan before the battle with Sukuna. A showing Satoru agreed to undoubtedly to fuck with them — and you, now, for that matter, as he sucks at your clit again, your hand flying to cover your mouth.

“Didn’t know you were waiting. Thought keeping you waiting would have sent you the right message,” Satoru replies, words said nearly against your wet cunt, breath warming your folds, a shiver working it’s way up your spine, “do you all need to see me in my clothes for battle that badly? I’ll have to start to suspect other motives — and while I’m flattered, with how flattered I can be from a bunch old geezers, I am a married man—“

“You insolent brat—“ his tirade falls on deaf ears as you try to urge Satoru off, but he doesn’t, only pinning your hips in place, hands locked under your knee, as he tugs you closer.

And he only grins, “Don’t tell me you’ll let this old coot distract us, sweetheart? Gonna make me insecure, does my wife not like this as much as her pussy does?” He groans his fingers, spreading your walls apart, parting them to see your cum and pre leak, only for him to lap it up, “because you’ve gotten wetter, haven’t you?”

“T-Toru, I swear to god, I’ll—“ you half whisper, half hiss, and he sinks two fingers inside your needy walls, his tongue and fingers doing nothing to keep quiet as the squelch of your folds only grows louder as he drags his fingers inside every inch of you, while his tongue busies itself with your clit.

“You’ll what, wifey?” he hums, making you whimper, “leave? You know you don’t want that. We could make a show of it, should I open these doors and let everyone see how needy you are for me,” and you can’t help the gasp that parts your lips, walls clenching around his fingers, “maybe then those geezers will see why I chose you,”

“Satoru! Are you even listening?”

“You can say whatever you want to me here,” Satoru sinks a third finger inside, teasing your clit with chaste kisses, “I’m not leaving this room for the rest of the night,”

Gakuganji pounds at the door, but you barely hear it, heart pounding in your ears, as you barely muffle your moans behind your clenched fist, “Disgraceful, do you think this is anyway to behave—“ you’re so close, too close, ready to cum as he pumps his fingers once, twice, three times — hitting your sweet spot again and again—you feel yourself reach that peak—

Only for him to stop. The whine that leaves your lips is a little too loud, just as his smirk is a little too wide.

Fucking asshole.

Satoru chuckles, teasing you open with his fingertips, just carding your folds barely open at all, pulling small gasps and moans muffled against clenched fingers, “Aw, c’mon, you don’t think being sealed up in that box taught me anything? You should know it only made me take what I want,” Satoru pulls his fingers from inside you, licking up the side of his digits, “and what I want is right here,” he leans back down, “so tell me and leave,”

“Even so, I need to speak to you alone,”

“It’s only me and my wife. You can tell her anything you tell me, she’s the more responsible one after all,” he punctuates it by his teeth grazing your clit, making your hips jerk underneath him, his hand covering your mouth, your fingers curling over his. He grins down at you as he kisses your thigh, “My wife is indisposed at the moment,”

You don’t hear what Gakuganji says as his fingers sink back inside all at once, fingers rough as they fucked you open in earnest, but you hear Satoru scoff nonetheless.

“Get your mind out of the gutter, you old geezer — she’s just lying down,” and he adds with a whisper, curling his fingers just right, “and getting her brains fingerfucked out,” and your pretty eyes are full of tears, cries muffled against his fingers, spit soaked, as he feels your walls clamp around his fingers, “what do you think? Should I let him in, sweetheart? Let him see how you well you get fucked by me, hear you scream my name when you cum for me?”

Nerves on fire from his touch, he’s just adding fuel to the fire, and you’re bucking into his fingers, wanting his fingers deeper even a little—

“No, I don’t think so,” his lips curl as he leans down, cerulean glinting in the low light, as your walls give that tell tale flutter, “because this pretty cunt is just for me,” and he sucks hard at your clit, just as he pulls his hand away, “cum.”

And you do, pleasure ripping through every inch of you as your back arches upwards into his touch, as he holds you against his face, cumming against his fingers and lips.

It’s heaven, buried in your sweet cunt as you cum, hot release against his tongue that he laps up greedily, the wet squelch of your pussy along with your lips crying out his name again and again. doing nothing to ease the throbbing between his thighs.

And when he finally does pull away, licking his lips and chin clean of your release, he watches you coming down from your high — eyes fluttering open slowly as your chest heaves, pussy split open just for him, your cum staining parts of his pants shirt and haori.

Fuck, he’ll have to see everyone off like this — your cum on his clothes — and his dick twitches, as he leans down to press kisses along your body, with you shivering as he does. And he wants nothing more than this moment to last, with you beneath him, the taste of you on his lips, and the sounds of your soft pants filling his ears.

That is until, you flipped him, back hitting the plush of the mattress, “sweets—“

“Did you forget? It’s a wife’s duty to serve her husband,” and your fingers are as deft as they are possessed — grazing over the bulge in his pants, a hiss before pulling the drawstrings apart, “isn’t that right, husband?”

Fuck, he bites his lip as he watches you tug his trousers down, his erection slaps his stomach, hard and leaking through the fabric of his boxers, a large dark stain of precum from his weeping tip.

Fuck, your cunt ached at the sight of him — no matter how many times you saw his cock, you couldn’t get over just how long he was — it was a miracle you were able to take him without breaking your cunt, though he’d gotten far too close.

“And I thought you said we couldn’t undress me,” his cock twitches as your fingers trace over the dripping slit through the drenched material.

Your eyes don’t meet his, still fixed on his hard on, “if the clothes are on you, does it even count as undressing?”

And your fingers dip into the elastic of his boxers before snapping it against his skin, making him jolt, “should I stop then, oh honored one?” You rub your thumb over his slit harshly, a gasp falling from his lips as his head lolls back, “maybe I should go get Gakuganji, let you have your meeting,”

“Playing dirty doesn’t suit you, sweetheart—“ and you pull his boxers down, pooling around his knees just as his pants did, cold air hitting his cock making him hiss.

“Like I said,” your palms slide up his body, from his waist, and under his shirt, to his chest, stealing the breath from his lungs, “should I stop?”

He looks up at you, lungs filled with heat instead of air, lips hovering an inch from his leaking erection.

“Fuck no.”

~~~

You’d be the death of him.

There was no mistake about it.

Satoru Gojo only had one weakness—and you were sitting on top of him. Your hair disheveled with your fingers running through them, lips kiss bitten and ruined even as your teeth grazed your bottom lip, and your gaze molten and only for him — just for him.

And you called him perfect.

A groan leaves his chest as your tongue flicks against his slit, salty precum swallowed by eager lips. He’s hypnotized by you, fingers reaching for you, as his thumb drags down your puffy bottom lip, parting your mouth for him, tongue darting out to lick the pad of his finger. Fuck, your mouth is so sweet, but how is it so wicked all the same?

“Fuck, sweets, how do you look so good on your knees f’me? S’not fair,” and your forefinger traces his pretty veins from base to tip, running over every curve and inch that would be buried in your tight cunt soon enough, his hips jumping against your touch, “g’nna make me cum before you even touch me,”

“If you’re gonna cum anywhere, it better be on me,” your lips curl at the shiver that runs down his body, your fingers sliding up his thigh as your fingers slide the pre down his length, fingers slowly pumping him.

“Fuuuuck, just like that, can’t wait to bury myself in your sweet pussy, wifey—“ your lips kiss his slit, sucking as your fingers toyed with his balls, feeling far too tight from your touch, a moan cutting off his words.

“G’tta find a way to shut you up somehow, Toru,” you spit on his cock, pressing teasing kisses up and down his begging length, “or maybe we can find a gag,”

You’ll kill him before he even gets a chance to fight Sukuna, and he’d die a happy man.

His precum drips down your chin, painting your lips, tongue darting out to lick it off your skin, “s’fucking good for me,” the praise sending a wave of heat right to your cunt, hot cum slipping down your thighs — and you finally let his cock slip past your lips.

A whine leaves his throat, his head lolls back, your pretty mouth wrapped around his dick, soaking his length, hips jerking against your mouth. Half muttered apologies, he couldn’t look away from the sight of you on your knees for him — mouth stuffed full of his cock with glassy eyes from the soreness of your jaw as you bobbed your head up and down his length. Just watching his dick go and in out of your pretty fucking lips, drenched in your spit and his pre, was enough to make him want to cum then and there.

But he wasn’t the only one.

Small whimpers and moans reverberate against his cock, tongue flicking against his veins, when his eyes flicker down, nails nearly digging into your scalp as he sees you two fingers deep in your cunt, the wet sounds of your pussy mixing with the squelches of his cock in your mouth.

“Fuck, such a nasty girl I married, huh?” He runs his fingers through his hair, entranced by the sight of you fucking yourself open with your fingers, your mouth growing sloppily as you do, “does fucking my dick turn you on this much? You’ve soaked the sheets,” he chides, wide smirk undercutting any iota of scolding, while you meet his gaze with a glare, “Aw, what? Can’t take it—“

His words are cut off as you take him deep, too bumping against your throat, and his fingers curl in his locks.

“Shit—“ Your fingers graze his balls again before squeezing, hard, he nearly busts them and there, but he can’t, not yet — his fingers weave into your locks to slowly pull you off, strings of spit and pre connecting your — not when he hasn’t fucked your pretty cunt yet.

Your eyes are dilated, dark with pleasure as his gaze meets your own, a mix of his pre and your spit slipping from the corner of your mouth, “You haven't cum yet—“ and his fingers wrap around your wrist and pull your fingers from inside yourself.

You yelp as he flips you over in an instant, hitting the mattress with a bounce, large palms sliding up your thighs, as he presses your knees to your chest.

“The only place I’m cumming, sweetheart,” as he drags the swollen head of his cock against your needy folds, watching his precum smear against your twitching folds, before lifting your soaked fingers to his lips, “is inside your sweet cunt.”

“Toru—please—“ and you’re so needy, just for him, your fingers finding the front of his scarf before tugging him close, a gasp chased away by a grin as he sees the pure desperation in your eyes, “I need you,”

“I’m right here, sweets,” and he’s leaning down to dot sweet kisses down your body — against your neck, the bridge of your collarbone, the swell of your breasts. “You’re going to have to be more specific,”

“Fucker,” he laughs.

“Now you’re getting closer,” and he does too, bumping the head of his weeping erection against your puffy clit, as your folds feel as if they’ll part for him in an instant, “this pretty girl is more honest than you are,” he’s parting your folds with his tip only to pull out.

A whine turns to a scowl, as you tug him even closer by his scarf, “I swear to god, if you don’t fuck me, I’ll strangle you with this—“ and he sinks into you.

Fuck, you swear you feel every goddamn inch, vein, and curve as he works himself into your tight cunt, walls fluttering as if beckoning him deeper—and he was only too happy to oblige.

“Toru, s’too big,” your whining only makes his cock throb inside you as he bottoms out inside, “s’too much,”

“Too much? No, sweets, this dick was made to fuck you,” he grunts, taking every iota of his self control not to thrust into you and bury his cum deep in your womb — no, he wanted this to last, “and this pussy was made for my cum,” he rolls his hips against you swallowly, his tip brushing against your cervix, as both of your heads roll back.

“How are you so tight? Pleasure rips up your spine as he begins a steady pace of fucking you, sounds of skin smacking together ringing in your ears, “you’re fucking wet and yet you have me in a vice grip,” his clothes rub against you, your slick soaking through the fabric, “should I go meet with the elders like this? Let them see the Gojo clan’s haori soaked by your juices,” fingers pressing your legs apart wider and higher, divots in your flesh from his touch.

Your walls squeeze at his words, mouth falling open wordlessly as he grunts, “F-fuck,” you can only manage to say, chest heaving as you grasp at the front of his haori, pulling him needlessly closer, “f-faster—“ and he grins.

He was more than happy to oblige.

He rails into you at a pace impossible for anyone but Satoru Gojo. And your gasp fades into a drawn out moan that makes him only want to fuck you harder and faster — he needed to bury himself in your cunt until all you remembered was how to moan his name.

“You take me so well, so deep,” his hand laces with yours and guides it to the bulge in your stomach, “see how deep you take me? Good girl,” the praise makes you keen, sending another wave of pre to soak his dick, and he chuckles, “gonna fit my baby so well too,”

Your mouth falls open as his dick ruts against you, bullying your pussy open, “W-what?”

“Y’think we’re gonna leave this bed before I’ve filled you up?” And he punctuates his words with each roll of his hip, “nah, this cunt is all mine tonight,” his thumb drags down your lips, pressing against your tongue, spit leaking out as you groaned, “and so are you,”

And you’re sucking at his thumb, teeth grazing it before brushing it away to lean up to meet his lips in a bruising, messy kiss — all spit and teeth and tongue, as your hips meet his thrusts, tip finally finding that sweet spot that has your back arching and your eyes rolling back.

“Toru, fuck, I’m g’nna—“ and you’re cumming, hard, orgasm hitting every inch of your body at once, nerve endings shot with pleasure as he fucks you through it — fucking relentless (or should you say limitless?). Satoru grunts as your walls clamp down on him, the wet squelch of your pussy only growing louder among your pants and moans. He watches the white ring of cum wrap around the base of his cock as it split you open, and all he wanted to do was cum inside you.

He needed to.

But he’s pulling out suddenly, a gasp ripped from your lips at the emptiness, before he’s pulling you into his lap, your back pressed to his chest, an arm around you to keep you from squirming.

“What are you—“ your sentence cuts off as he teases your far too sensitive entrance with the head of his cock, “T-toru,”

And his other hand snakes around to cup your chin, forcing you to meet your own gaze in the mirror.

You’re a mess — sweat slicked and naked, your skin littered with blooming red marks dotting up and down your body, your nipples pebbled and hard under his touch, and your cunt on full display, his fingers slipping down to spread them, as if to show you where he just was.

And he was — hulking behind you, his whole form enveloping you as his cock pushed against your needy entrance. His haori disheveled and his hair askew from your fingers running through it, skin shiny with sweat, skin beautifully flushed, and his eyes filled with lust and his smile far too pleased with himself as he watched you squirm.

Your eyes squeeze shut, “Don’t wanna be the only one to watch me cum inside you, you should enjoy the view too,” he’s finally sinking to you again, body falling back against him as he sheathed himself in you fully again, “look at how well you take me,”

And his fingers are cupping your chin, spit slipping from your mouth, as he forced you to look again, see the bulge in your stomach as he slowly began to fuck you, his grunts and moans hot against your ear, “y’know, I’m beginning to really believe you were made for me, sweets, the only one for me,” and he’s emphasizing it with a thrust, “you’re the only one I can even imagine wanting, even just thinking of you is enough for me,” his words do nothing but make you grow tighter as he fucks upwards into you, as he spots your eyes shut again, “c’mon baby, watch me fuck you,”

So you do, watch as his cock slides in and out of your cunt, the wet noises and squelch almost too much for you to bear, the all too familiar knot in your stomach growing ready to snap. His fingers slide up your body to pinch and tease your sensitive nipples, already flushed from his attention. He’s murmuring sweet words, but you don’t hear any of them — you’re gone, lost in the pleasure, in the sweet stretch of your pussy around his cock, unable to look away as he fucks into you.

“S’good for me, sweets, I’m close,” and he’s pulling you down flush against him, cock buried to the base as his tip brushes against your g-spot with every thrust, his lips pressing needy kisses to the side of your neck, “fuck, g’nna cum—”

“Cum inside me, fill me up, Toru,” and he groans your name, turning your head to find your lips in a sloppy kiss, tongue wrapped around yours just as his cock hits the deepest part of your tight cunt and his fingers rub against your clit.

And you’re squirting, gushing over his lap and cock, pulling your lips from him as you moan his name, as he rails into you through your orgasm, until he notches himself as deep as he can before he’s cumming too, hot release painting your walls as he fills you up. He’s fucking his cum into you.

You both grow slack as he slows his movements, relaxing against his body, murmuring soft praises as he slowly pulls himself from inside, clicking his tongue, as he watches his cum slip out of you.

“Sweetheart, how will you fulfill your duty if you let my cum slip out like that?” he kisses your cheek, before he’s gathering the cum on his fingers to stuff it back inside, drawing a gasp from your lips, “maybe I’ll just fill you up again, hm?”

His softening cock twitches at the thought, as you lean into him, shifting as you feel just how wet you’ve gotten him…and his clothes.

Fuck.

“Toru, how are you going to fight in these clothes tomorrow?” you cover your burning cheeks, “it’s drenched,”

“It’ll dry,” you snap your head to him to glare at him, and he pouts, “what? It’ll be like you’re fighting with me—”

“I swear if I have to live with the knowledge you fought the king of curses with my cum all over you, I’ll kill you—”

“And if I’m not alive—”

“I will bring you back to life, just to kill you,” and your palm slides against the slant of his cheek, “and you’re not going to die, I forbid it,”

He chuckles, his lips leaning down to meet yours in a sweet kiss, “Then I better not now, huh?”

~~~

“You’ll come home to me, won’t you?”

It hadn’t been a question, not until now, now when you’re faced with the reality of the day pressed against you as day breaks over December 24th. Daylight seeped into the bedroom, his thumb tracing a lazy circle against the divot of your hip, a soft smile on his lips, with his arms wrapped around you.

Atlas long having shifted the sky to your husband’s shoulders, from the second he existed in his world — but for a moment, you feel it too. Not like him — never like him, even when you tried to bear it with him. But you never could understand, no matter how you tried to.

But you tried — his fingers lacing with yours, engulfing yours with his warmth, as he lifted your intertwined fingers to his lips.

“Where else would I go, sweets?” And you didn’t want to think of the other possibilities, to say the words out loud and manifest them as some cruel jujutsu god’s intention. Because when were these gods ever kind? “I only belong in one place — two if you count the mochi place in Sendai,”

But he doesn’t earn a smile out of you, frown still firmly fixed to your lips, “ouch, not even a pity half smile?” he tilts his head, “sweetheart—“

“You said it yourself that the ten shadows is the ultimate counter to infinity,” you hate the words that leave your lips, filling in your mouth like bile, unable to do anything but spit them out like acid, “that and Sukuna’s technique, I’m worried—“

“Worrying won’t change the outcome, baby, and I’m not planning on losing,”

“If you aren’t, then why did you agree to give Yuta your body?” your words were quiet, his movements still, muscles tense as if he had already given up his autonomy to another, “and you didn’t tell me,”

He’s careful with his words, tiptoeing between buried mines— “I didn’t want you to worry about something that wouldn’t happen—“ but still managing to step on one all the same.

“Bullshit. You thought it would be better for me to find out if push comes to shove?” you laugh, a bitter noise, but all the anger leaves your body, and only fear is left, “I can’t lose you, Toru,”

“Baby—“

“I can’t. I won’t,” you’re being petulant, you know are, but he’s the one person you’re allowed to be childish about, just as he is with you.

“You won’t, huh?” He wasn’t used to be treated like this — as fragile, as something that’s fleeting, that could slip from fingers as easily as everyone else did. Even as you touched his, fingers tracing the curve of his jaw with the most delicate of touches, as if he’d shatter under your touch, “I don’t think we get a say in that, sweets, unless you had secret meetings with a god I don’t know about,”

“Satoru—“

“Don’t worry I won’t get too jealous—“ and you cover his mouth, yanking him close by his scarf, your forehead pressed to his shoulder.

“I love you, you absolute idiot, you know that right?” And you feel his lips curl ever so slightly against your fingers, before he presses a soft kiss to your palm, easing it from his mouth, “I love you, I love you so much,”

“I love you too,” he presses his forehead to yours, “I’ll come back to you, but even if I don’t…I’ll always be with you, you can’t get rid of me, even in death,”

“Promise?” And he kisses you, soft and languid, thumb rubbing back and forth against your speak.

“Promise.”

And Satoru Gojo was never one to break his promises.

~~~~

Except now.

The slice cut through the silence of the battlefield with the wet squelch of flesh and blood, followed by two thumps, one soon after the other.

No, no. This wasn’t true. It wasn’t. It wasn’t.

It couldn’t be.

He promised he would come back. He promised he’d live. He promised.

He can’t leave like this. No, he can heal himself, he can save himself, couldn’t he? RCT like he did before with Toji. And for your eyes flickered around the room, no one could meet your gaze, none except Shoko, who saw the question in your eyes and only frowned before shaking her head, lit cigarette snapping in half as he held it too tight.

“No, no—“ you didn’t even realize you said the words out loud before you felt everyone’s eyes on you suddenly, before you felt something, a flicker of his cursed energy and you snapped.

“Ui ui, take me with you,” Kashimo was already on his way to the battlefield, a lightning flash to death’s door, with no fear.

Yuta says your name softly, “I don’t know if that’s a good—“ your eyes snap to his hard.

“You have your plans, Yuta, and I have my own, this isn’t a matter of discussion,” you step over to Ui Ui, seeing Yuta’s hands curl into fists, vision averted, “I’m not ready to give up on him,”

And in a second, you’re in the middle of the battlefield, dust clearing as the distant noises of fighting rings in your ears, but you barely register it, no, not when wind rolls and you see him.

“Satoru,”

You’re at his side in an instant, your fingers running over his cheek, the heat leaving his body, cold creeping in, but as your fingers graze his, a quiet murmur of his name, and you see his eyes flutter.

And it’s immediate. You look to Ui Ui, as your hands are placed on either side of his split body, palms spread against his body, “Take us to Shoko, he’s alive.”

~~~~

Satoru Gojo was never one to lose.

But he supposed if he had to lose to anyone, it might as well be the king of curses. But he knows he didn’t really loose, as he watches the snow fall above him, wondering if the cold against his skin was the snow or if it was something else entirely.

Was this what it was like for Suguru? Is this what he saw? The winter sky, or was it him knelt beside him as his life left his body.

Maybe he’ll ask him when he goes back, when he sees everyone again.

And then he hears it — your voice, the quiet murmur of his name, and the brush of your hand against his.

No, no, he can’t leave. Not if he can help it. Not when you’re here.

He feels your cursed energy flood his body, the flow of cursed energy through every inch of him, as it keeps his heart beating and his brain alive — a gasp caught in his throat.

If you want to start anew, head north. If you want to return to your old self, head south.

There’s only one option.

He had to head north — even if it meant — he closed his eyes — losing everything, but himself.

But he’d have you — and that would be more than enough.

~~~

“Are you enjoying the view?”

Your lips curl as you stand in the doorway of your bedroom, leaning back against the doorframe, watching your husband dress himself.

“Always do,” the floorboards creak lowly as you cross the bedroom to your husband’s side, “why do you think I married you?”

He chuckles, “and here I thought it was because of my incredible personality,” and you snort, as your arms wrap around his middle, your fingers adjusting the obi belt around his waist, “feels like you laughed at that a little too hard, sweetheart,”

“I just imagined how your students would react at that,” you laugh softly, as you finish adjusting his belt, only to grab his haori, a deep sky blue, as pretty as he is, “pretty sure they’d disagree, especially after the stunt you pulled—“

And of course, the stunt you were referring to was him coercing you push a box out to his students, only for him to pop out.

“How many chances would I have to do that? Plus, it was hilarious — did you see their faces?” And you scoff, shaking your head, “Plus, I figured it would be less shocking this way. Surprising them this way changes the focus from what happened to right now,”

You helped him pull the haori on, guiding his arms in one sleeve and then another, “I think you just being alive was enough of a shock,” you kiss his palm, pressing it against your face.

And his lips curl, “Well I made a promise didn’t I?” His other hand reaches for you, finding your waist and tugging you close, “and I never break a promise, especially when it comes to my beautiful wife,”

“Can you call me that yet? We still haven’t had the ceremony yet,” he shakes his head.

“This is only a formality, something to appease the elders and keep the idea of a clan war at bay,” he scoffs, shaking his head, before shrugging, “but it isn’t so bad,”

“Why’s that?” And he smiles.

“Because now we can have no regrets,” and your fingers trace upwards over his face, the scars from his battle bumpy as your fingers run over his soft skin, fingers reaching the blindfold over his left eye, before pushing it up — his cerulean blue eye now a milky white, “except maybe being able to marry you with both eyes,”

“Like you said, we were already married,” your thumb runs over his shut eye gently, “this is just a formality,”

He leans into your touch, nuzzling your hand, before his arms pull you flush against him, “Then can we be late?” And his lips lean down to press a heated kiss to your neck, voice reverberating against your skin, “because I’d like to enjoy my wife before I have to share her with everyone else,”

“Toru—“ a soft gasp cuts you off, as his hands slide down your sides to cup your ass, fingers squeezing, “we can’t—“

“Oh what will they do? Start without us?” And your resistance is waning as his lips start trailing kisses down your neck, tugging at your kimono if only to pull the fabric down your shoulders, “I promise I’ll be fast,”

“Last time you promised that, we didn’t even make it out the door—“ and his fingers are already undoing your obi, before sliding up and underneath the silk material, thighs parting under his touch, “god—“

“You don’t have to call me ‘god,’ sweetheart,” and his fingers toy with your panties, “look at my wife,” and he’s tilting your gaze to make you look at yourself in the mirror again, “perfect,”

“Just like my husband,” and his lips curl.

“Even now?” And your fingers cup his cheek, forcing him to meet your gaze — no longer the look of the strongest or the gaze of the six eyes — just the eyes of your husband, Satoru Gojo. The very gaze he’ll use to look to the future.

“Especially now.”

✧ a/n: welcome to the first kinktober fic!! sorry it took a bit T_T. i've been super busy with work and i keep getting sick in weird ways. last week i got hives and this week, my stomach is being a jerk. but i hope you guys enjoyed :) i think the next fic may be 'a cult classic' or 'scream (only for me)' so look forward to that!! thank you to @coffee-and-geto and @gaylatteart for betaing!

✧ taglist: @risuola , @riamallow , @montilyetron , @saccharinesatoru , @notgoodforlife , @aerithsthingss , @satorusmochis , @silvarys , @oracle014 , @jimabenamara , @seijakuu00 , @erwinawesomeness , @staryukis , @idiotgojo , @torubug , @theshylittleelfgirl , @mitsuristoleme , @forest-hashira , @aishies-stuff , @midnaamethyste , @fiannee , @paperstarsthings , @satosuguwifee , @kachntos @meow-satoru , @rowaelinsdaughter , @emonaculate , @hojoslutoru , @strawberry1042 , @fairiesthrum , @shoyosdoll , @gladiatorgladiator , @tojis-ball-sack , @astraecea-silversin , @sleazymac-n-cheesy , @wakashudou , @cstandsforchaos , @yuminako , @zetianzz , @dazailover1900 , @sunamatic , @euphorism , @satowooo , @hawkwithsocks

#sab [mlist]#satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo fanfiction #satoru gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo smut #satoru gojo x you #gojo x you #gojo satoru smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #gojo fanfiction #jjk gojo

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doestarkey · 3 months ago

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summary: drew finds you asleep after a sad attempt at trying to surprise him, falling asleep in the process

“come on, sweetheart, time to get up,” drew whispers softly, his voice warm and inviting as you feel the bed dip beside you. his hand gently brushes your hair back from your face, his touch tender as he tries to coax you awake.

when you finally open your eyes, you’re met with his soft smile. looking up at him from your side of the bed, you mumble sleepily, “hi, drew,” before sitting up and turning to face him.

“hey, sweet girl,” he murmurs, his voice low as his hand comes to rest gently against the side of your face. your hand instinctively reaches up to hold his wrist, grounding yourself in his touch. “sorry i got home so late. table read took longer than expected. you slept well?”

you nod slowly, still hazy with sleep, and lean into his hand, nuzzling against his palm. “tried to stay up for you,” you whisper, your voice soft.

he chuckles quietly, his tone full of affection. “i know, baby. your phone was still in your hand when i got in,” he says with a small grin before leaning down. his hands slip under your thighs, lifting you effortlessly into his lap. your arms wrap around his neck, his arms circling your waist in a way that feels like home.

“got all dressed up just for me?” he asks, his voice playful yet laced with adoration. his fingertips ghost over the delicate white skims set you’re wearing—the ruffled panties adorned with red hearts, paired with the matching bralette.

you nod again, feeling a bit shy. “mhm, sorry I couldn’t stay awake,” you mumble, attempting to hide your face in the crook of his neck. but drew is quick to catch your chin, tilting your face back up to meet his gaze.

“ah-ah, look at me, sweetness,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing over your cheek as he takes in your features, the warm glow from the dimmed lights casting a soft light on both of you. “what, you think just because you fell asleep, i’m going to let all this go to waste?” his voice carries a teasing edge as his eyes wander over the room, hand falling to your hip.

you follow his gaze, noticing the soft lighting from candles and your bedside lamp, roses scattered across the bed, and the effort you’d put into dressing up—his favorite set, your makeup done just the way he likes it, complete with a blush that lingers on your cheeks.

your brows furrow as guilt creeps in. “yeah, but it’s so late, and i ruined the whole surprise by falling asleep. you’re probably—” you begin, your words tumbling out in a rush before drew cuts you off with a kiss. his lips press against yours, silencing your rambling in an instant.

when he pulls back, his hand cups the side of your face, his thumb grazing over your lipstick-stained bottom lip. “you didn’t ruin anything,” he assures you, his voice firm but gentle. “we can still make the most of this.” his lips twitch into a small, playful smile.

a hint of a smile spreads across your face at the suggestive tone in his voice. you nod, meeting his gaze. “we can.”

“good,” he whispers as he leans back against the bed, his hands finding their way to your hips. “because it’s going to be a long night.”

#𐙚 doe’s work #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew x reader #drew starkey fanfiction #drew starkey blurb #drew starkey prompt #drew starkey x yn #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey x you #drew starkey fic #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey fluff #drew starkey edit #drew starkey moodboard

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earlgreylatte · 1 month ago

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Variant Madness

You thought he was your Mark.

Omni Mark and Shiesty Mark 2V1 you.

Breathing in, you savour the fresh air of the mountain trail you find yourself on. You had visited years ago, but you decided to come again to enjoy the scenery. Maybe you could find a cool rock for Mark and Oliver, too.

You hope things are peaceful for them too, but even if there is another threat that needs to be taken care of, you’re sure Mark would be able to come find you easily enough.

You feel a bit pathetic that you already miss him, even though you’re going to see him in a couple of hours. You suddenly find yourself understanding Debbie’s usual amusement when she watched you two. You really acted like a lovesick puppy, sometimes.

Feeling your phone buzz from your pocket, you fumble for a second as you’re broken from your thoughts, rooting through your jacket to find it. Just as your fingers begin to pull it out a sudden rush of air hits you from behind, your jacket’s hood suddenly pushed over your head as you drop your phone onto the soil as dirt is kicked up into the air.

You whip around, to find…Mark? He was still wearing his black and blue suit, but his entire head was now covered, making him look a little intimidating, with his mouth and hair covered.

He stares at you wordlessly.

“Were you in that much of a rush to show me your new costume? I mean, you just got a new one from Art just a couple of months ago,” you speak up, rubbing the dirt out of your eyes, “Honestly, you could have caused a dirt storm or something…”

He breathes out your name.

You tilt your head, “Is something wrong? Did something happen? Are Debbie and Oliver okay—!?”

Your worrying is cut off when within an instant he has you crushed to his chest, arms locked around you as he buried his head against your neck.

“I just really missed you,” he whispers.

Looks like he’s a lovesick puppy, too.

You can’t hold back a dopey smile, “I missed you too.”

You jolt in his arms when you realize your phone is still vibrating; a redial, so possibly urgent.

“Mark, my phone—“

You’re interrupted again when he pivots you so your back hits a nearby tree, his mask rolled up enough to reveal his mouth which soon presses against yours.

Anything you wanted to say is forgotten as you wrap your arms around his neck to pull him closer. He groans into your mouth as his hands plant themselves to your waist as he places a knee in between your legs.

He moves from your lips to your neck, pressing adoring kisses against your pulse point before helping you shrug off your jacket, letting it to the ground as his hands slide under your shirt, gloved fingers brushing against your ribcage.

“Mark,” you breathe, heart swelling at the sweet intimacy he was more than willing to give you.

Your attention is broken again when you notice your phone is still ringing, your gaze sliding from the man nestled against you to the forest floor where your phone laid.

Your body stiffens.

The caller ID illuminating your phone was one you could recognize even from afar just from the amount of heart emojis you set for…your boyfriend.

The boyfriend that was currently with you.

Whose grip on you begins to tighten as your heart starts to hammer in your chest.

You shakily bring up your hands to hook your fingers beneath his mask, slowly pulling it up as he remains as still as a statue. The face is familiar, if not a little more worn, but the brown eyes you held so dear were now filled with a sadness deep enough to drown you.

This wasn’t your Mark.

Mark was definitely lucky he was attractive, you decide.

If he wasn’t, you definitely wouldn’t have tolerated the sheer annoyance his two variants were causing you.

“Were you a virgin or something until now? Because you fuck like a noob,” A Mark with a wild rag mask laughed as the one that was dressed like Omni Man 2.0 pounded into you, your back pressed against an alleyway wall, the area long deserted from the destruction the two men unleashed on the city.

“I doubt you even know what you’re talking about, with how you talk like a preteen boy,” The red and white Mark huffs, tone passive enough that you’d think he didn’t care about his copy’s words if not for his pace speeding up and his thrusts going deeper and deeper until your voice reaches a new octave.

The other Mark scoffs, “Well, not that she minds, already looks cockdrunk off your tiny dick. Hey, sweetheart, bet I can take you to heaven and back with one stroke.”

“I will kill you.” The Mark fucking into you, tightens his grip, turning to death stare the now laughing Invincible.

“Aww, is daddy mad? Scared she’s going to want to run away with me once I slip my dick in her?”

You can’t believe you have to orgasm while listening to their dumbass argument…

“Hey, if you’re going to hog her pussy, at least move her so I can put that mouth to use—“

Annoying people really shouldn’t be so hot.

The invincible tag is so good rn, I’m actually in tears…

Decided to do a 2in1 special because people really want me to make a part two of that other variant post…it will come…

Masterlist

#invincible x reader #invincible imagine #mark grayson x reader #yandere mark grayson #yandere invincible #invincible variants #full mask mark #omni mark #shiesty mark #cowboy mark #yandere x reader #afab reader #invincible #full mask mark is yandere #the other two are just obnoxious and competitive

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f1lovr · 2 months ago

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FAKE IT TILL YOU...LOVE HER? | LN4

pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

summary: in which lando accidentally speed runs his way from a fake wedding date to real feelings, proving that the only thing faster than his car is his ability to fall in love with his best friend

warnings: none!

THE INITIAL PROBLEM

lando had a problem.

a really bad, really stupid problem, but a problem nonetheless.

this whole thing started with a text from his ex, Rebecca.

Rebecca: Hey, Lando! I'm just checking in with everyone I sent wedding invites to and I saw you hadn't RSVP'd yet so I wanted to check to see if you were coming. We'd love to have you there!

it was a reasonable message to send, she wanted to know who was attending her wedding after all. It wasn't rude or passive-agressive either, just a simple invitation, but to one of the most emotionally torturous events lando could imagine.

he was gonna ignore it, that was first instinct.

his second instinct though was to lie.

Lando: Hey! Yeah, I'm coming! also have a plus one because I'm bringing my girlfriend!

He was fucked in short. His decision had been made in pure panic. There was no thinking behind it, just recklessness.

And that? That's how he ended up on your doorstep at midnight, a frantic look in his eyes and looking like he was about to breakdown at any second.

You opened the door looking like you had just woken up, a blanket wrapped around your body and your hand rubbing your eyes as you looked at lando with furrowed eyes. "Lando?"

He was nervous, running his hands through his hair because he didn't know what to do with them. "I need you to be my girlfriend."

There was a pause. You just stared at him processing the words he said. You squinted at him in confusion before responding. "Are you drunk?"

"no."

"are you concussed?"

"not that i know of."

"but you need me to be your girlfriend?"

lando let out a deep breath preparing to explain. "Rebecca's getting married."

"i'm aware."

"and i panicked."

you look at him confused at that.

"and i may or may not have told her i was bringing my girlfriend."

there was silence as you stood there looking at him, more like glaring at him honestly.

then slowly you spoke. "lando."

his hands shot up into the air in defense. "look, i know it's stupid, i know i'm being stupid, but i can't show up alone now, let alone in general. i'll end up looking like a sad, little, loser boy who's still hung up over his ex-"

"you are a sad, little, loser boy who's still hung up over his ex."

he groaned at that statement. "okay, fine, that's fair, but she doesn't need to know that."

"okay so let me get this straight," you say as you stand in front of him, a hand over your face. "you lied-"

"yes."

"- and now you need me to pretend to be your girlfriend-"

"yes."

"- because you're too much of an idiot to tell her the truth and too proud to just show up solo?"

"yes."

your stare was blank as you stood there in front of him. "you are such a dumbass."

"but a desperate one," he corrected you with a smirk, one he hoped would sway you.

you let out a sigh, a nice big and long one at that.

then, "fine. but you owe me big time."

lando grinned at your answer, "i'll name my firstborn after you."

"deal."

MONACO, THE WEEKEND OF THE WEDDING

you regret your decision before you had even set foot into the venue. the venue was too extravagent, the people there were too rich, it screamed money and emotional damage.

lando stood beside you looking effortlessly charming. he wore a suit that was perfectly tailored to him, a boyish grin covering his face, his energy giving i am completely fine and not at all panicking internally.

you on the other hand? you were the exact opposite and were very much panicking.

"what if she sees right through this?" you mumble to him as you fiddle with your dress as the two of you walk into the reception hall.

lando smirked at you, "then we make it convincing."

and before you could even question him his arm had slid around your waist pulling you closer ot him.

you froze up entirely at that. "lando."

his mouth came to your ear, whispering like he was telling you a secret. "shh, she's watching us."

oh. oh.

your eyes stole a glance across the room before landing on rebecca. she looked elegant, poised, and her eyes were watching you and lando as if she was trying to decipher some sort of puzzle.

showtime.

your body turned into landos, your face plastering your best adoring girlfriend smile that you could muster up. "you're ridiculous."

he beamed, completely unbothered by what you had said. "and you love it."

"unfortunately."

the hand that he had around your waist squeezed you a bit. "good girl."

your brain short-circuited.

he did not just-

"you're insufferable," you mumble to him, ignoring the blush that was definitely creeping all over your face right now.

"and yet, you agreed to this."

"...i'm starting to rethink that decision actually."

too late though, rebecca was already approaching the two of you.

"lando," she greeted with a smile, one that was just a little too perfect. "you actually made it."

lando's hand tightened where it was on your waist only just slightly. "of course."

her gaze then flicked to you. "and you must be..."

"y/n," you said with a sweet smile. "his girlfriend."

the way rebecca's expression barely faltered was almost admirable.

"well," she said, voice smooth. "it's lovely to meet you then, i didn't even know that lando was seeing someone."

lando grinned at her words. "it's new, but when you know, you know."

your heart did something stupid at that.

rebecca hummed, clearly not convinced. "so how long have you been together then?"

"oh only a couple months, but we've known each other forever," lando lied easily.

rebecca only nodded her head at that, you thought she was about to call you out on your stunt but she didn't. "well, i hope you both enjoy the wedding."

and with that, she walked away, disappearing into the crowd, probably going to go talk to more people with her husband or something.

you let out a breath as soon as she was gone. "i think i need a drink."

lando only laughed, his lips moving down to press a quick kiss to your temple. "c'mon love. let's get you one."

you really needed to stop enjoying this.

THE RECEPTION: A MASTERCLASS IN FAKE DATING

dinner had shortly become a nightmare. rebecca's table had been placed in view of yours, and she had been watching the entire night.

this meant that lando was in full boyfriend mode.

and he was annoyingly good at it.

comments whispered in your ear that make you laugh? check. hand resting on your thigh? check. tucking your hair behind your ear like it was nothing? double check.

and the worst part about all of this?

it didn't feel fake, not one bit.

at some point rebecca had made her way over to your table, this time with her now husband in tow.

"so," she started, the wine she had in her cup being swirled in her cup, "how did you two meet then?"

lando had no hesitation with his answer.

"oh, well like i said earlier we've known each other forever," he said, turning to you with an expression so genuine it nearly fooled you. "we grew up together, she's from back home in the UK, kind of just decided it was about time to stop hiding how i felt you know?"

your stomach flipped at his words, they almost sounded real, like he was talking from his real feelings.

rebecca's eyebrow raised, "oh really?"

lando had only nodded, his eyes locked onto yours. "yeah, i knew i was done for when i saw her for the first time in a while, knew i had to finally confess."

your breath hitched.

rebecca, for the first time, looked slightly thrown.

"well," she said, a forced smile on her face, "that's...sweet i guess."

lando just beamed, his eyes never leaving yours.

and when rebecca walked away, you realized-

your hands were shaking.

THE BALCONY

later that night you found yourself on the balcony, leaning against it just watching onto the world around you, the wind blowing into your hair gently.

the balcony was nice, it overlooked the ocean and it was nice and quiet, away from the wedding, away from the pretending, away from every feeling that had been swirling in your stomach the minute you stepped into the building with lando, unable to be untangled.

lando appeared beside you, leaning against the railing, so close to you your shoulders were brushing against each other.

"hey," he said softly, neither of you looking at each other, just out at the ocean.

you exhaled a small breath before responding, "hey," you said back just as softly.

there was a moment where neither of you spoke.

then quietly, he asked, "are you okay?"

you hesitated not knowing what to say, that one avril lavigne song in your head, why'd he have to go and make things so complicated. "are you?" you say instead of just spitting out all the feelings that were swirling around.

he only let out a breathy laugh. "less than i expected. more than i'd like."

your head turned to look at him, his eyes already on yours. they weren't filled with mischief for once, they were softer.

and suddenly, the two of you weren't at his ex's wedding, the both of you weren't pretending.

it was just you and him.

"lando..."

he didn't say anything, only reaching for your hand. you let him take it.

"i think i could get used to this," he admitted quietly, the voice coming from his mouth raw and full of something you couldn't pin.

your heart stuttered, flipped, stopped almost.

"lando..."

"i know," he said quickly. "i know this was supposed to be fake."

silence. not a bad one, but a comfortable one as he figured out his next words.

then softly, almost hesitantly, he spoke, "but i can't help but wonder what it would be like if it wasn't."

your breath caught.

"what are you saying," you speak quietly.

"i'm saying," he starts, his hand coming to grab your other one before looking at you in your eyes, "i'm saying that i don't want this to be fake."

and before you could talk yourself out of it or think about the consequences, you kissed him.

and nothing had ever felt less fake.

THE PROPOSITION

a week later after the wedding, lando once again showed up at your door.

a smile was already on his face when you opened it, he was excited to see you.

and before you could even get a word out asking why he was there he spoke, "i need you to be my girlfriend."

"are you drunk?" you ask.

"no."

"concussed?"

"last i checked still no."

"fake?" you ask, wondering if this was real or not.

"definitely not." he said, a smirk coming to his face when he realized you figured out he was asking you out for real.

"still naming your firstborn after me?"

"depends, is it our firstborn? cause i feel like that would be a little awkward." he said, the smirk covering his face only growing.

you don't say anything, the kiss you pulled him into was answer enough for him.

cause this time?

this time he wasn't pretending, he didn't have to beg you, he was just lando. lando, your best friend, stood at your doorstep asking you to be his, and you were more than willing to do that.

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rafeandonlyrafe · 6 months ago

Text

gold ring

words: 1.3k

warnings: brief suspicion of cheating, established relationship, soft!rafe, proposal, fluffy

“rafe!” you groan out, tired of hearing his phone constantly dinging for the past ten minutes.

when rafe doesn't answer, you slap your laptop closed, frown on your face as you head up the stairs, muttering to yourself about him interrupting your work that he KNOWS is important.

“rafe!” you shout, entering his bedroom. you can finally hear the spray of the shower, explaining why he was letting his phone go off.

you grab it from his bedside table, yanking the charger free as you go to silence it, but upon trying to stop the dinging, you skim over the notifications.

you don't believe it at first. it must be some kind of mistake, you're sure.

you click on the name of rafes ex girlfriend, opening up the text message thread.

rafe: when can we meet?

ex: whenever works for you 🥺

ex: i miss you a lot btw

ex: this friday at 6pm? we can meet at the country club like we always used to. maybe get dinner? can't wait to see you xxx

you frown at the messages, quickly locking the phone and setting it down when you hear the shower turn off.

rafe steps out with just a towel wrapped around his waist.

“hey princess.” he smiles. “how's the essay going?”

“fine.” your tone is cold, surprising rafe. “your phone was ringing so i silenced it.”

you walk out of the room without another word, needing to return to your homework, but when you sit back down at what has become your desk, you can't concentrate on the words on the screen, your anger bubbling over.

you want to confront rafe, but you need time to breathe otherwise the entire conversation will be unintelligible as you simply sob.

you head upstairs, grabbing your backpack and slinging it over your shoulder as rafe emerges from the closet, fully dressed.

“where you going babe? got study group?” he questions, glancing at the clock on the wall, realizing there's no way study group would be meeting this late.

“going home.” you mumble, making sure everything you usually leave at rafes is stuffed in your bag.

“you are home?” rafe questions, his expression turning sad when he sees you're not joking.

“no, im not rafe.” you sigh. “i want to sleep in my own bed tonight.”

truth is, you've practically moved into tanneyhill since you started dating rafe, but technically you still live at your parents house, only a few doors down from rafes.

“is everything alright?” rafe asks, trying to reach out for you. “what did i do wrong?”

you can't help it anymore, his obvious disrespect for your relationship, something you put years of work into only for him to go back to his ex girlfriend.

“how about you ask your ex?” you question, tears streaming down your cheeks.

“my ex? what are you talking about?” rafe asks, again trying to hold you by your shoulders, but you take a step back before his palms can land on you.

rafe: ive asked you a million times to give that ring back. you never should have taken it in the first place. it was my grandmother's and now it belongs to y/n, not you.

“i saw your texts, rafe. when can we meet? are you fucking kidding me!?” you shout the last sentence.

“baby, wait.” he says softly, grabbing his phone. he opens up the messages, scrolling up so you can see the full context.

ex: i don't know where it is

rafe: bullshit. give it back or ill call the cops

ex: fine.

rafe: when can we meet?

“see, baby?” rafe places a soft hand on your shoulder. “i was just trying to get my shit back. i have no interest in my ex at all. i love you.”

“oh, rafe!” you coo out, throwing your arms around his shoulders. “im so sorry i doubted you.”

“it's okay, id also be pissed if you were texting your ex. i didn't tell you just because i wanted to keep it a surprise.”

“keep what a surprise?” you furrow your brows together.

“what do you?- ohhh.” rafe finally catches on, letting out a chuckle. “i see what you're doing.”

you giggle, rising to your tiptoes to press a kiss to rafes soft lips.

“now let's get back to work on that essay, yeah?” rafe says. “i can help you.”

“and what do you know about microbiology that could possibly help me?” you snicker.

rafe rolls his eyes dramatically. “fine, but i can at least be there for moral support.”

you've been expecting it for months now, wondering when rafe will pop the question. you know he got the ring back, and while he's taken you on romantic dates and moonlit walks on the beach, you're not sure when he will actually drop to one knee.

“what are you thinking for your nails this week?” your girlfriend asks.

originally, you were doing all white and plain, but recently for summer you've been branching out to bright colors again.

“why, is there a certain color i should get?” you raise your eyebrow at her.

“well i was gonna get a sparkly white, maybe we could match.” she shrugs. it's no discredit to your friend, but her acting isn't good enough to fool you, and you're sure that rafe asked her to make sure you get something appropriate and properly bridal.

you of course get simple nails that you hope will compliment a silver ring on your finger.

you look at the calendar hanging on the wall, reading through your events for the upcoming week, trying to figure out when rafe may ask the question.

you ultimately give up on trying to figure it out as you head further into the house, calling out for rafe.

“baby? where are you?” you shout, surprised when you don't get a response. you head up to your bedroom, figuring he must be in the shower, but the bathroom door is wide open when you enter.

you almost miss it, so set on finding rafe, but the dress laying on the edge of the bed ends up catching your attention.

put this on and meet me outside.

you recognize rafes handwriting instantly. you set the paper to the side and look at the dress. its a soft light pink material, nearly white.

you are quick to undress and put on the flowy dress, admiring yourself in the mirror before touching up your hair and makeup next. rafe knows how you like to prepare for big events in your life.

your steps are slow, or at least you attempt to keep them slow, as you want to cherish this moment. your eyes light up with the glow of the backyard, string lights hanging from every tree, and on the edge of the sand, is rafe.

“oh.” you cover your mouth, feeling tears well up in your eyes. this has to be the moment. you run to him, arms wrapping around his shoulders as he spins you.

“baby, i haven’t even asked yet.” rafe chuckles, setting you down.

“and i’m already saying yes.” you giggle, although it’s no secret to rafe what your answer would be.

“still-” rafe places his hands on your hips, stilling you before he drops down onto one knee, pulling a box out of his pocket. he flips open the lid to reveal the most stunning ring you’ve ever seen, it’s exactly what you envisioned and somehow so much more.

“you’ve made me happier than i ever thought possible. you fixed all my broken pieces and made me whole again. there’s no one else i’d rather spend forever with.”

rafe looks up at you, tears brimming in his eyes, overwhelmed with the emotion of the moment. “will you marry me?”

“yes!” you squeal, falling to your knees alongside rafe and pressing your lips against his. “yes, yes. a million times yes.”

sfw tags: @winterrrnight @cameronswiftie @ladyinbl00d @ethanthequeefqueen @drewsephrry @wearemadeofstardust0

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inuiiwonderland · 2 months ago

Text

BABY

The boys invite you over to their house but now suffer with their moms/siblings/parents showing you their baby pictures<3 gn reader!!!

Ace trappola

He leaves for ONE second. One second and he can already hear your small giggles coming from his room as he hears the voice of his older brother with you.

Oh gross don’t tell me he’s flirting with you!

Ace thinks as he quickly shoots his way up the stairs. The boy brows were furrowed as he slams the door wide open. He was ready to cuss up a storm like a sailor and tell his brother to fuck off and leave but froze once he sees what you’re holding.

OH!

You were the first one to break the silence as you throw your head back as a laugh escapes your lips.

“Oh sevens you were one ugly baby!” You say. Trying very hard to keep in your giggles as you look over at the picture. His brother cackling right next to you.

“Oh totally! He looked like a dried up raisin” His brother says in between laughter.

“HEY! No I didn’t!” Ace can feel the tip of his ears heat up as he marches right towards you two.

“These pictures say otherwise” You flipped to the second page and quickly slapped your hand over your mouth.

“Oh sevens…” Ace quickly tries snatching the book from your hands but his brother stops him before he could.

“Oh my! Is that-“

“Yep! He couldn’t go ANYWHERE without it!” In the picture, you can see THE ace trappola standing with a wide toothy grin on his face as he holds onto an equally adorable bunny stuffed animal.

“Oh this one is my favorite!” He points to a photo of baby Ace dressed up as a strawberry as he cried his eyes out. You can see his brother standing next to him with a big smile on his face as Ace looks like he’s about to pop a vain. The next picture shows him all calm and smiley as he’s given his favorite bunny stuffed animal.

“Aweeee ace! You were so adorable!!” You squeal. With his brother now laughing and wheezing, Ace was able to immediately snatch the photo album from your hands as his whole face was a bright cherry red.

“Okay that’s enough and get the hell outta my room jack ass!”

Deuce spade

He should’ve known something was up when it suddenly got quiet. He carefully walks back to his room with a tray in hand filled with cookies. The moment he opens the door he lets out a loud shriek as he watches his mom excitedly showing you his baby pictures.

“M-mom? What are you-“

“This was him at 2 months! Isn’t he cute?”

“For sure! Aw look at those chubby cheeks!”

“Oh and this was on his 6th birthday party! Look at those dimples!” She says as you squealed in awe. The two of you continued to flip through the baby album as deuce turned redder and redder by the seconds.

“Aww you were such a cutie deucy!” His face instantly goes red as he sets down the tray on the table.

“Oh oh! And look at this!”

“Is that a bunny onesie?” You squeal out. He immediately gulps knowing the embarrassing stories behind that onesie.

“Yes! I bought it for him for the white rabbit fest! He loved it so much he would always wear it to bed or when we go buy groceries. He cried really hard when he outgrew it though”

“I-I did not! I was just sad that’s all! I did not cry!”

“Oh! Look at this one! This was taken on his first day of school! I still remember it like it was yesterday. After taking that photo, he wouldn’t let go of me! He didn’t want to go in at all and we had to have three teachers come and drag him inside as he cried his little heart out! I remember feeling so terrible but I had to go to work”

“Okay that’s enough! No more baby photos and embarrassing stories!” He says as he snatches the book away.

“No wait please I want to see more!”

Sebek Zigvolt

It’s been 5 minutes already and you still weren’t back from the bathroom! You told him you would be quick and now he’s slowly growing impatient from your absence. He gets up and storms out of the room as he makes his way to the bathroom.

“Human! You have been in there for almost 10 minutes! Is something wrong?!” Silence. He frowns before knocking again.

“You know we have to study for that Alchemy test this upcoming week!”

Again nothing. Just as he was about to knock again a loud laugh and giggles could be heard from downstairs. And those giggles sounded eerily familiar.

Wait

That’s your giggles!

In a speed of light does he make it downstairs and to the kitchen where the laughs and giggles were coming from.

There stood you and his father going through sebek baby photo album.

“W-what are you doing?!” He screeched.

“Oh sebek! I was just showing your friend your baby photos!” His father said cheerfully. The half fae turned bright red as he was ready to yell but was stopped the moment he heard his name being called from behind him.

“Sebek Zigvolt. What did I tell you about yelling in the house?!” There stood his mother. Brows furrowed as her arms were crossed over her chest.

“Anywho! Look! This was him when he first came into this world!”

“Awww! I guess he’s always been loud from the looks of it” You say. Chuckling at the photo in front of you.

“Oh don’t get me started. He was crying up a storm and I swear I could feel my eardrums burst” His mother sighs as she walks over to the sink. His father smiles as he looks down at the album.

“Yeah he was a crier. Oh look at this one!” He shows you a picture of 4 month old sebek staring wide eyed at the camera. Chubby cheeks and big ole eyes.

“Awww! You were adorable!”

“Oh this is my favorite one!” His mother points at one where you can see sebek wearing a knight costume. From the looks of it it must’ve been Halloween. He wore a proud smile as he held up his sword. You coo at the photo as they both continued to show you more.

“Oh look at this one! He saw a horror movie for the first time and there was a scene where the father sacrifices himself for his kids and he burst out into tears! He wouldn’t let go of his dad for weeks!”

“Enough! Let’s go back to studying!” He says as he grabs your hand and pulls you away from his parents and the photo album.

“Wait no one more !”

This was an old draft from like a year ago🌝 I just decided to finish it now😖

I FULLY BELIEVE DEUCE HAD DIMPLES JUST LIEK ME! IDC WHAT YALL SAY!!!!

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pedgito · 3 months ago

Text

𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐄 | Joel Miller x reader

summary | Joel doesn't have a Mrs. but he does have a sports car.

author's note | @chaotic-mystery made me listen to sports car and i said you know what? yeah. this one's especially feral, sorry in advance.

content warning | 18+ MDNI, no outbreak au, girthy age gap, car talk, sad hot grieving dads gone wild, daddy kink, more specifically daddy issues, mutual mas, no touch rules, cum eating, pure filth

word count — 5k — PART TWO

“Beautiful, isn’t she?”

Your tongue rolls over your teeth inside of your mouth as you stare with folded arms, phone clutched tightly in your hand as you wait eagerly for your driver to arrive and get you the hell out of here.

“Stunning,” You offer a forced smile, watching as your date lingered around the old car, pristine and well-cared for, an unattainable feat for such an immature man-child like himself.

It was the last time you were allowing your friends to set you up on a blind date, nearing the point of swearing off dating entirely, knowing that a man who couldn’t even cover half the check wasn’t driving around in a classic Pontiac, let alone affording the upkeep for it.

“Sure you don’t wanna change your mind?” He asks eagerly, the subtle admiration of the car waning as he comes into view, knowing the old beater a few spots down was surely his.

The bells above the convenience store next door jingle as people enter and exit, taking another impatient glance at your phone. You watch as the boy takes a seat against the hood and it makes you cringe internally, swallowing your words as an even deeper voice interjects from behind.

“I’ll give you about three seconds to get your ass of my hood,” The older man threatened, spinning the keys in his palm as he set the six pack of beer on the roof, the younger kid scrambled to his feet instantly, “—is he botherin’ you?”

“Unfortunately,” You mumble as you take another glance at your phone and curse under your breath, watching the unmoving dot on the screen.

“Get outta here, kid,” The mystery man barks, “looks like you already ruined her night and I don’t need some runt like you fuckin’ up my car.”

You both watch as he sulks to his car, just as you suspected, your lips pulling into a thin line to stifle the laugh that built in your chest, feeling lighter for the first time that night.

“Does that happen often?” You ask curiously, watching as he fiddled with his door before the lock popped and the door swung open, the six pack of beer carefully placed in the passenger seat as he rose back up to answer your question, hands curled around the edge of the roof.

“Ever since I fixed her up,” He pauses, recollecting, “probably a once a week ordeal. They’re easy to run off, fortunately. You waitin’ on something?”

“My ride,” You wobble your phone back and forth weakly and Joel squints, shaking his head as he winces at the guttural backfire of the engine in the car behind him, the final memory of your absolutely awful date as he disappears down the road.

“Kid had a car and couldn’t even bother to pick you up or take you home?” He asks curiously, strangely not unsettled by his openness to conversation given his gruff exterior, “Some nerve.”

“It was a blind date,” You shrug, “My friends they—”

“Those ain’t friends,” He interrupts politely, “if they set you up with a guy like that.”

“Well, maybe—” Your words linger, shifting from foot to foot as the conversation dies out and your feet begin to ache, the summer heat making you uncomfortable, the silk fabric of your dress sticking to your skin as you wipe at your damp cheek and push your hair behind your ear.

“Hop in,” He tells you, stooping into his car as he closes the door, his waiting gaze staring up at you through the window, “I can give you a ride.”

“I…don’t know,” You answer uneasily, “I don’t even know you.”

“I’m Joel,” He answers almost immediately, “I’m not a genius but I figure you had a shitty date, no sense in you paying for a ride home if I can offer one. Chivalry ain’t that dead, sweetheart.”

You offer him your name quietly, approaching the car with some hesitation.

He seemed like an honest enough man, swooping in like a knight in shining armor.

You’ve given worse men a fairer chance—so, fuck it.

–

“My dad had a car like this,” You perk up after a few minutes, the glass bottles clinking against each other from where they sat by your feet, between your legs, “not a ‘67—was a ‘69.”

“You know your shit?” Joel asks curiously, his left hand settled over the top of the steering wheel while his right was settled against the gear shift, “He teach you about ‘em?”

Oddly, conversation with Joel was easy. A similar interest, neither of you with any room to judge one another. Equals.

“I pestered him alot,” You admit, “I was supposed to end up with it but he sold it before he died. God, what I wouldn’t give—”

“She is a beaut,” Joel admits, giving a soft tap to the dashboard, “and a labor of love.”

“She? What’s her name?” You ask knowingly, the slightest hint of a smirk on your face.

He spoke so fondly of the car, as if it breathed life into him. It wasn’t unfamiliar to you.

“Sarah,” He offers up more subdued, but a soft smile graces his face for a brief moment, “s’long story, doesn’t matter.”

“My dad named his Jameson,” You say suddenly in an attempt to add some levity, “funny, since my dad was an alcoholic…”

Okay, maybe not funny, but Joel gives you a pity chuckle anyways.

Luckily, your nervous admittance is quickly looked over.

“So, where’m I takin’ you?”

You chew at your bottom lip and glance sheepishly at Joel.

“Um…UT?”

“Goddamn, that’s like—”

“An hour away, yeah,” You sigh, “I won’t be upset if you want to stop at the next gas station, I have the money for a ride, it isn’t that big of a—”

“I’m about five minutes up the road,” Joel begins, fingers flexing lazily ahead as they raise from the steering wheel, “I’ve got a spare room, I can take you up there in the morning.”

“You’re a total stranger, you know?”

“There’s a motel just a ways up,” Joel suggested with ease.

Though as you approach it looks bleak, the fluorescent lights blinking overhead and a glaring spot for much more nefarious activity with the perfectly placed strip club across the road, feeling the car pull to a slow stop.

“I…think I’ll take you up on that spare room,” You stutter out.

Joel nods, a hint of amusement in his eyes as he shifts gears and pulls back onto the road.

The flickering neon lights of the seedy motel fade in the rearview mirror.

“That place ain't fit for anyone, let alone a young lady like yourself."

“I’m not young,” You retort, ‘I’m twenty-three.”

“And I’m as old as this car,” Joel retorts, watching your face scrunch up in thought as you did the mental math in your head before he puts you out of your misery, “I’m fifty-eight, sweetheart.”

Pushing sixty? Big deal.

You’ve had older professors flirting with you inappropriately on a weekly basis, at least Joel was being polite and kind and not at all as sleazy as most men, at least, not yet.

You stare at him without his knowledge, his eyes focused intently on the road. He’s rugged, facial hair thick and unevenly covering his face, plush lips parting as his tongue swiped along his bottom lip, a permanent scowl on his rather softened expression.

He’s devastatingly attractive.

And there’s something about him that comforts you, a remnant of protection despite the unconventional circumstance of finding yourself in a stranger’s care after a terrible date on the way to an unfamiliar place.

Eventually, the car slows, rumbling into a small cul de sac with four other houses surrounding his own, certainly picturesque and not what you would suspect from a man like him. He cuts the engine dead as he pulls into his driveway and wordlessly leans his body over the center console, a hand snaking between your spread legs as he reaches for the six-pack of beer.

“Home sweet home,” He jokes lightly, “C’mon.”

With trepidation and a sudden heat to your face as he peers up at you for a moment while his hand is settled between your thighs, you nod.

Please don’t be a fucking serial killer, you think.

A silent prayer said to anyone that would listen.

He’s a perfect gentleman, fortunately.

Joel gives you a short tour, displaying the spare room at the end of the hall, an attached bathroom and plenty of escape routes—he seems to sense the unease still as it lingers.

“You said twenty-three, right?” He double checks, “You want a beer? Or water? I got some soda, too.”

“Beer is fine,” You answer with a nod, turning on your heels to follow him back down the hall and toward the kitchen, watching as Joel flicked on the overhead light above the kitchen island and pulled two beers from the cardboard casing.

He pops the caps off with ease before he’s pushing the beer into your hand and taking a sip of his own, leading you toward the dining room as he pulls out a chair for you and him, a comfortable distance as his legs spread out when he sits, the glass resting against his denim covered knee.

“So your daddy, he taught you a lot about cars?”

“How to take care of ‘em,” You explain, “What’s good, what’s shit. I’ve got a soft spot for the classics, you know? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I like them fast, too.”

“Smart girl,” Joel notes, but then he lingers for a moment and watches as you sip gingerly at your beer, “I’m curious—and you can tell me to fuck off if you want, but what happened back there? Other than that kid makin’ a complete ass of himself?”

The comment should not make your insides twist the way they do, a faint throb between your legs that you hide with a cough and another long sip, “He’s just…not great. And the gesture was there, he tried paying for the date, but then his card declined and, well…”

“Sounds like a real winner,” He mocks, taking a hefty sip before the liquid is gone, sliding the empty glass along the dinner table.

“He’s not my type, anyways,” You shrug, finishing off your own beer and mirroring his actions, watching as he silently grabbed the bottles and stood up, disposing of them in the nearby trash.

Joel makes an unintelligible noise as he shakes his head, “And what exactly would that be?”

You hum thoughtfully, “A V8 engine for starters, some real hefty horsepower, a nice spacy interior,”

“Damn, just my type,” Joel plays along, “I like that you know your shit—you savin’ up for one?”

A car, he means.

Given that you were attempting to find a ride home, it seemed like a valid question.

“Trying, sure.” You shrug nonchalantly, “It’s more of a dream anymore, college isn’t exactly the cheapest.”

A beat passes as Joel slips back into his seat and you pull your bare feet up into the chair, curling your arms around your knees loosely before you speak again.

“Serious answer—I don’t date boys my age ever. I was only entertaining it because my friends wouldn’t shut up about it. They’re usually older; thirties, forties. You can judge me—I get it.”

“Ain’t nothing to judge,” Joel shrugs, “You like what you like.”

“And you?”

Joel laughs at that, looking away briefly as you smile, poking his thigh with your foot as he thinks for a moment, eyes dragging toward the floor.

“I’m too old for that shit—ain’t nothing for me.”

“I think you’d be surprised,” You tell him honestly, knowing that most of the girls would be ripping each other’s throats out for a moment with him, the perfect amount of mysterious and dark, a hint of southern gentleman in the way he carries himself, a total fucking smoke show.

You knew just how deadly you’d be vying for a chance with him.

And here he was, like an offering plopped right into your lap.

Besides, you were having a bad night, what else did you have to lose?

“That so?” Joel seemed to be testing the waters too, a playfulness in his eyes that was deeply subdued but there, simmering. He wasn’t going to try anything unless you initiated, lucky for him, you were more than eager by now.

“Oh, I know so,” You nod with confidence, “Nice car—you got that whole dark and mysterious thing going for you and you’re hot, s’not like I’m blind, Joel.”

“Is there somethin’ you’re gettin’ at, sweetheart?” Joel asks curiously.

You shrug, a mischievous grin crossing your face.

You’ve had plenty of one night stands; terrible dates with half-decent sex.

You spent two hours getting ready, another getting to dinner, and you’d be damned to waste such a good opportunity when it presented itself.

“I had a shit night and you’ve already managed to make it better,” You admit, “I’m just sayin’ as a thank you, we could—”

“I’m not askin’ for a thank you, sweetheart,” His voice is immediately softer, alluring.

His brow twitches as you lock eyes, like a moment of consideration crosses his mind, large palms splayed out against even larger thighs, the type that made you curious.

He had the body of a man well-worked; a mix of someone who’s aged with grace and maintained his lifestyle through work, broad shoulders that begged to be explored, stretching as he fidgeted in his chair.

“If I told you I wanted you to fuck me, would you?”

Joel speaks your name aloud and you smile sheepishly, though he knows it was an act, feeling a little braver with a few shots of liquid courage from earlier in the night and a beer to loosen your nerves further.

You were staring at the veins in his hands now, calloused fingers rubbing at a soft, flayed spot in his jeans, right above the knee, tanned skin hiding underneath.

“It’s not a question of would I, honey. I can’t.”

So, he would.

“Can’t? Or won’t?”

“I’m gonna save you the regret—besides, I got a few rules for myself, and if not allowing myself to touch you when we just met is one of ‘em, I think that’s fair.”

“Do you think I’m pretty?” You goad, feet dropping slowly to the ground between his widened legs, “Do you want me to touch you? Is that against the rules?”

Joel knows there’s no benefit in lying.

“‘Course I think you’re pretty but you sure got a mouth,” Joel comments, fingers flexing against his thigh as he leans back in his chair, letting out a long breath through his nose as he peers over at you, “I’m willin’ to do a lot more than touch, sweetheart. But, not like this, not tonight.”

“I’m not drunk,” You defend, “C’mon, Joel. I got all dressed up tonight and I’m askin’,”

Half a second short of begging.

“Sweetheart,” He warns, “M’not gonna,”

“Then touch yourself,” You encourage, “let me watch.”

“Now, what makes you think—”

Your straps droop down your shoulders, one adjustment short of your breasts spilling out of your dress as your head nods toward his subtle adjustment between his legs, pulling slightly at the denim suffocating his growing erection.

He’s got a beautiful girl presenting herself to him, one more no away from dropping to her knees to wallow, lips parted as you breathed out softly, thighs separating so far that Joel catches the quickest glimpse of your thin panties, nearly see-through with how wet you were, your hands squeezing at the fabric near the end of your dress like a nervous tic.

Joel wasn’t blind either.

“You were going to do it after I went to sleep, weren’t you?

“You’re stubborn as hell, girl—”

“I bet it’s big,” You throw from left-field, a smirk growing on your face, “I love sucking cock, Joel. It’s my favorite thing—s’not a rule break, right? If I touch you and you keep your hands to yourself? Do you want me on my knees? Wanna see what I look like with your cock in my mouth?”

His jaw clenches, watching the muscle strain underneath his skin as he clears his throat.

“Don’t be shy—”

“I”m not shy.”

Then?

Your eyebrows raise in question, your dress pulling slowly up your thighs, legs widening with the movement before Joel finally relents, the deafening sound of his zipper pulling a soft giggle from your chest as you wiggle with excitement.

Joel's hand hesitates for a moment before he reaches into his pants, shoving them far enough down his thighs, his eyes locked on yours as he slowly pulls out his hardening cock, watching him swell in the loose grip of his palm. Your breath catches in your throat at the sight of it—thick and veiny, an easy seven inches, a heavy set of balls to match as his fingers roll along the tight skin and up, his fingers drifting featherlight over his cock.

“This what you wanted?” Joel asks, low and throaty, a strain to his tone.

You nod eagerly, bottom lip pulling between your teeth as your hands settle beside you, gripping the chair so hard it creaks, legs spread wide instinctually, making room for him despite his distance, your dress slipping far enough down your chest that your breasts were on display.

Soft peaks, nipples hardened in the cool air, your chest rising with slow breaths as you arch yourself forward slightly, his hand keeping a slow, teasing pace as his thumb drags over the thick head and against the slit.

Your eyes flicker between Joel’s face and his tight grip around his cock, watching as he strokes himself with slow intent, belt jingling with the movement as he pushes his shirt up with the other hand, his own eyes trading between different parts of your body.

He’d suckle at your skin if he could, trail his tongue from mouth to cunt, have you a shaking, sobbing mess if he allowed himself the luxury, but he was a man wallowing in his own self-made torture and the energy in the air was palpable, thick with tension.

“Closer,” He groans out lowly, nodding his head in a jerky motion as his free hand beckons you near, “Spread your legs, sweetheart—lemme see you.”

You give him far more than he asks, standing slowly before you’re hooking your fingers in the fabric at your hips and pulling down, letting the damp fabric drop to your feet before you’re leaning down to pick it up, tossing your panties into Joel’s lap before you return to your seat.

One foot propped against the chair, your dress bunches at your hips, giving him a perfect view of your glistening cunt as you spread your fingers through your folds, a teasing touch.

Blindly, Joel grabs at the fabric and wraps it around his cock, like a vice, he squeezes tight.

Joel's eyes darken, pupils dilating as he takes in the sight before him. His grip tightens around your panties, the damp fabric adding a new, chest-tightening sensation as he strokes himself harder. A low groan escapes his lips, his gaze fixed on your fingers as they tease through your slick folds.

“You too scared to fuck a college girl?” You tease him, “‘Is that what you’re worried about?”

“Smart ass mouth, girl,” He gripes, “S’like your daddy never taught you any manners.”

“Oh, ‘cause I’m sure you could’ve,” You reply flippantly, gasping as your finger catches along your fluttering hole, a groan rumbling deep in Joel’s chest as he jerks his cock.

“I ain’t your daddy,” He reminds you.

You shake your head nonchalantly, “No you’re not. Could–could be, though. “What do you want? For me to pout and call you daddy?”

“Careful,” he warns, his voice rough with desire, “That’s a dangerous game, sweetheart.”

You hum at the words, a faint flutter in your chest.

If you stopped to think about what was happening you would psych yourself out completely, so you lean back further, arching yourself forward as you slide two fingers inside yourself. "I don’t mind playing," you moan, eyes fluttering closed for a moment before locking back onto Joel’s.

Joel's breath catches in his throat, his hand faltering for a moment as he watches you sink your fingers deeper into your wet cunt, the soft squelch paired with your innocent sounds.

He scowls as he squeezes his shaft, “Christ, girl,” He grunts, “Tryin’ to kill me, aren’t you?”

You shake your head impishly, “Temptin’ you,” You admit, “Is it working?”

“You know damn well,” Joel says tensely, forcing the words through his teeth as his fingers slide up and squeeze at the head of his cock, precum slick against his fingers as he uses it to add to the friction, his eyes roaming hungrily over your body, “fuckin’ look at you, so goddamn eager.”

“That right, daddy?” You ask breathily, giggling with the word as Joel looks like he could explode, his other hand cupping his balls to keep him busy, knowing if he lingered with his thoughts for too long he’d fuck you into the chair without an ire of hesitation, his eyes close as his head leans back.

“Is that what you need? Someone carin’ for you?” He asks, “Is that why you’re actin’ out?”

The way his hand moves against his cock is mesmerizing, the flex of his wrist as he jerks his cock in a practiced manner, something he undoubtedly does weekly, squeezing his sack gently in his hand as his chest rumbles quietly.

“Eyes up, sweetheart,” He chastises, “I’m askin’ you a question, answer it.”

You nod weakly, a frown forming on your face as you whimper, the softest graze of your fingertip over your clit as your body spasms, gasping at the feeling.

“Words, ‘hon,” He encourages, his own voice wavering slightly.

“Y—yes,” You answer quickly.

Joel chuckles deeply, “S’good. Good girl, sweetheart. You wanna spread those legs for daddy then?”

Obediently, they do, presenting your glistening cunt to him as you fingers slip out, wet with slick and Joel licks at his bottom lip, mouth watering at the sight.

“Fuckin’ filthy,” He murmurs endearingly, a slight smirk stretching across his face at the sight, “—won’t even touch you and you’re mess, been like that since you got in my car, huh?”

You nod weakly, sighing as your fingers circle lazily over your clit.

“Taste ‘em,” He encourages, “clean ‘em up.”

Your fingers, he means.

Like some magnetic pull, you find your fingers pressing against your tongue without thinking and the tangy sweetness melts against your tongue, his breath shuddering as you licked your fingers clean, cunt pulsing with need, silently pleading for Joel.

His eyes narrow, darkening with lust as his hand speeds up around his cock, obscene sounds matching his heady words, neck straining as he grunts, “That’s it, sweetheart. Listenin’ to your daddy—M’fuck—fuckin’ close.”

Through your bleary haze, you nod with the same sentiment, speaking softly, “Metoometoo—”

His movements are more fumbling, quick and furious jerks of his cock that still at the head as he squeezes, his face scrunching up in a mix of frustration and desperation, trying harder than he’s ever had to not shoot his load too soon.

“Yeah? Show me,” He encourages, goading as his unoccupied hand twists into his shirt and hastily pulls it up and over his head, “Spread your legs for me, baby.”

They spread impossibly wider, your hand reaching behind your head to grip onto the chair as your ass slips near the edge, circling your fingers over your clit without much precision, knowing that one more word from his mouth and you’d be drooling all over the seat.

“So fuckin’ desperate, look at you,” He demeans, “Poor little girl with daddy issues, huh?”

You moan shakily, avoidant of his obviously goading question, eyes fluttering closed as your orgasm crept in slow, mumbling out the words without even thinking, “Please—please can I—daddy, can I—”

“S’alright, we’ll fix that,” Joel comments softly, his voice a low growl, “Go on, sweetheart, come for me.”

The feeling is instant, his permission all you need to melt over the edge, legs shaking through the mind-numbing sensation your climax brings, chest tightening as you gasp, fingers working frantically over your clit as Joel’s name slips from your mouth.

Distantly, you hear him groan, his orgasm overtaking him at the sight of you writhing in your chair, spilling over his tight fist as thick, milky ropes of cum spread across his chest and down the underside of his cock, his eyes falling shut.

As your breathing slows, your thighs pull together, shrinking impossibly small into the chair in a sudden overwhelming feeling of shame. Shame that you had shared an intimate moment like this with a man you barely knew all because you had a terrible night and shame over how easily he had made you come, like it was natural.

Despite the obvious, Joel doesn’t miss a beat.

A slow, satisfied smile spreads across his face and he beckons you forward. Finally.

“On your knees, sweetheart,” He instructs as your body moves without much protest, sliding to the floor as your dress pools at your hips, not amiss to the way Joel’s eyes follow the subtle bounce of your breasts as you move between his spread legs, his erection flagging but your tongue peeks out eagerly, licking at the head of his cock as your hands curls around his calves for support, “S’not—hey,” He hisses, “you were listenin’ so good until now.”

He’s salty and sweet, a taste so inviting that you needed more. It made your mouth water, tongue swiping against your bottom lip as your eyes fell on the opaque liquid covering his stomach.

Unfortunately, he still wouldn’t touch you.

He runs a hand through his hair while the other rests against the table, balled into a fist as you shake your head shyly, removing your hands from his legs.

“Sor—sorry,” You stutter, uncertainty evident in your voice.

Joel’s eyebrows raise, an unspoken bond quickly forming between you both.

“Try again.

“M’sorry, daddy—what can—,” You gulp audibly, fidgeting nervously with the silk fabric at your waist, “how can I make it up to you?”

Joel glances down at his stomach, still covered in cum as he breathes, watching the liquid drop down his skin and to his softening cock, still intimidatingly large even as it rests against his thigh, “Why don’t you clean me up? Can you do that?”

You nod eagerly, darting forward immediately as your tongue glided along his skin, into the small patch of hair above his groin and to his belly button, hearing Joel groan as the chair creaks with his shifting weight, struggling against his own forced restraint as you lick the cooled cum off his skin, eyes flicking up to look at him, dangerously innocent.

A facade, he knows. But, he’s in fucking trouble.

“That’s it,” Joel coos, “Clean me up good, baby.”

You giggle softly, dragging the tip of your tongue along the last bit of his cum before you drag up the center, barely reaching his face before you pull away, a soft huff of breath hitting you in the face as Joel shakes his head and chuckles, looking away from you briefly.

“Still not gonna touch me?” You tease him, quietly pulling your dress back up your body and over your shoulders, fingers adjusting the strap as he turns back to look at you.

“I’m tryin’ to be respectful here, sweetheart. And you’re makin’ it damn near impossible.”

Your brow furrows in a mix of confusion and amusement, “Respectful? You call that respectful, Joel? Oh—” You clear your throat and pull your bottom lip between your teeth, batting your lashes, “M’sorry, I mean, daddy.”

“Careful,” Joel warns, “You still have an hour in the car with me in the morning.”

You nod, slowly rising to your feet as you adjust your dress down your body, smoothing it out over your curves as your hands rest naturally behind your back, loosely as they curl together.

“Mmm, no,” You retort, a playful glint in your eyes, “I think you should be worried about me.”

“Is that right, sweetheart?” He mocks, hardly believing your faux confidence against him.

“Or, you could just let me drive?” You attempt playfully, a full belly chuckle erupting from Joel.

“I mean,” Joel shrugs, his voice trailing.

Breaking his rule for a moment, the hand ruffling through his hair trails toward your thigh, curling around the bare skin for a brief moment, sliding up until his fingers grazed against the curve of your ass and your bare pussy underneath, your panties resting near his fist on the table, a keepsake.

“Gotta reward my good girl, don’t I?”

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfiction #tlou fic #my writing #fic: drive

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buckyalpine · 5 months ago

Text

SOO much fluff with my random thoughts. We love a meet cute featuring a sweet uncle Bucky. Imagine working at a daycare, surrounded by the cutest little ones everyday. You know you shouldn't have favourites but you can't help but fall especially in love with three year old Jamie and his mop of brown hair, his sweet blue eyes absolutely stealing your heart. He'd recently been babbling and talking your ear off about getting to stay at his Uncle's house since his parents were going away on vacation.

"We have the same name" He stated proudly while mushing up some playdoh between his tiny fingers, "Mama said I gets to stay with him for two whole weeks"

"I hope you have the best time, bub" You smile at his excited ramblings, giving his hair a ruffle before making your way to cut up some fruit for snack time.

You arrived at the daycare center just in time for their lunch for the afternoon shift, setting your things down and getting to work grabbing napkins and laying them on the tables. The littles ones all lined up to wash their hands before getting their lunch boxes out, most quite self-sufficient with opening their containers without assistance.

You heard a frustrated grunt, looking over your shoulder to find a very determined Jamie with his brows knitted together attempting to open his lunch to no avail. He finally gave up, toddling over to you, the growl of his belly making a clear statement.

He was hungry.

"Can you open this please?" He holds his thermos with two hands, smiling when you take it from him, patiently waiting for you to open it. You try to unscrew the lid, frowning when it doesn't budge even when you try with all your might. You tie a rubber band around the top to give it some grip but it stays locked in place, unmoving after you ran it under hot water and ridiculing you when you tried to pry it open with a butter knife.

"What is your uncle, a super soldier?" You huffed, trying to open the little lunch thermos one more time but there was no point; it was sealed shut. "I don't think I can open this for you, bub, he closed it extra tight"

"Uncle Jamie made me mac and cheese" his little face melted into a sad pout, his belly rumbling again.

"I'm sorry baby, how about sharing half a grilled cheese with me, hm?" You cooed, toasting your own lunch in the panini press and putting it on a plate for him. "We need the avengers to open this, let's see if uncle Jamie can open this when he picks you up"

He happily nibbled on the sandwich, licking up the crumbs, putting away his thermos and making his way over to play with some blocks. When it was hometime, you got everyone ready, sending them on their way while Jamie remained, waiting patiently for his uncle to arrive while sitting on the playground, hugging onto his stuffy in the meantime.

"Ms. y/n, Uncle Jamie is here!" He jumped up in excitement hearing the rumble of a motorbike pull up outside, running to the fence, waving over to him.

"Let's see this Uncle Jamie of yours" You said with an amused expression, wondering who managed to close a lunch lid so tightly. His uncle certainly wasn't what you imagined, watching a tall, broad man parking his bike. He was dressed in all black, parking the bike and pulling his helmet off, letting it rest on one of the handle, running his hand through his short chestnut locks, a toothy grin spreading on his face.

There was no way.

"Oh my God-

"Uncle Jamie!!" The little one ran off to his uncle, jumping into his arms, hugging him with his entire body. The super soldier grinned, catching him with ease, blowing a raspberry against his cheeks making him squeal and sending him into a fit of giggles.

"Hey little man" He chuckled, cradling his nephew and giving him a few extra cuddles before setting him back down and taking his backpack from him. You'd wondered what the hell was in his little backpack which was strangely heavy, gasping when you saw him pull out a tiny leather jacket.

"Arms up, buddy" Jamie lifted his arms, letting his uncle secure the jacket on him.

"He didn't eat his lunch, we couldn't get the lid open" You handed him the thermos with an apologetic look, "He had a grilled cheese instead, I hope that's okay"

"Sorry, doll" Bucky smiled sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck, "Guess I didn't realize how tightly I closed it" He took it from your hand, opening it up with ease, steam still billowing from the contained from when he'd heated it up that morning.

"He didn't tell me his Uncle was the very Sergeant James Barnes" You ignored the heat that crept up on your cheeks, an equal blush spreading across Bucky's. "He's been talking about you all week"

"He's been talking about you too" Bucky said with an edge of a flirty tone to his voice, his nephew had said just about everything there was to know about you but the little runt left out just how pretty you were. How sweet. Super cute.

Actually that was a lie, he definitely went on about how pretty you were.

It would appear he had more in common with the three year old than he thought; they both had an apparent crush on you.

Get it together Barnes, you just met her.

"He's a little rascal" Bucky chuckled, looking over his shoulder to find his nephew impatiently wiggling, waiting for a ride, "We're actually just around the block so not a long ride but he loves it" Bucky chuckled as he strapped Jamie into the sidecar, plopping a tiny helmet onto his head.

"Bye Ms. y/n!! See you tomoowo!!" Jamie waved making you smile at how adorable he was, his voice muffled in the helmet.

"Bye baby, see you tomorrow!" You waved back, your breath hitching in your throat when you met the other set of sparkling blue eyes peering at you.

"Yeah, see you tomorrow, Ms. y/n" Bucky said with a wink making your stomach flip, giving you a cheeky smirk before pulling the visor down.

You couldn't wait for tomorrow to come.

Okay imagine after two weeks of little parking lot interactions he obviously has to ask you out on a date. Then another. Another. Soon, little Jamie is excited to see you having sleepovers at Uncle Jamies!! He's bragging to all his friends about how he gets to see Ms. Y/n all the time.

Then you're over for Christmas! And New Years! Now you live with Uncle Jamie and it's the best thing ever! And obviously, little Jamie is the ring bearer at the wedding. A year or two later, he finds out he's going to have a baby cousin to play with.

Just an idea.

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dumbass-hyperfixations · 14 days ago

Text

The text comes at 9:07.

Eddie: Happy birthday, Hen! Hope you have a good one :)

Hen smiles down at her phone as she sets down her bag in the locker room. Someone really ought to teach that man how to use emojis (seriously, is he secretly 50?), but the text warms her heart too much to be bothered by it. At least someone remembered, even from another state. She’ll take the typed out smiley emoticon as a win.

Hen: Thanks Eddie 🥳 how are you doing?

Eddie: Almost done fixing up my house and making small breakthroughs with Chris every day. But I’m sure Buck’s keeping you all updated. How about you? Any big plans today?

Hen: I’m sure it’s going great, we’re all rooting for you ❤️ and yes, Buck’s giving us all the updates, hasn’t shut up about you since you left 😂

Hen: No big plans today, though. Shift, then takeout for dinner.

Eddie: Not even cake? You’re breaking my heart :(

Hen sighs. She’s breaking her own heart over this silly little thing. She feels ridiculous, being so excited and then so disappointed over such a small thing. She scoffs as she kicks off her shoes and shakes off her jacket before answering Eddie.

Hen: I guess I’m just not in the mood this year. Maybe Karen and I will get dinner over the weekend.

Eddie: Oh, Buck and I tried this great Italian place the night before my last shift at the 118! You should ask him for details, their spaghetti bolognese was amazing :D

Well, definitely not doing that. Not while Buck and the rest of the 118 are being excited over a different H.E.N. in their lives right now. Another thing she’s ridiculously jealous of today: firefighting gadgets. And the way Eddie isn’t able to keep Buck out of their conversation even for a second. She bets Buck never forgets his birthday.

Hen: Thanks, I appreciate the tip 🤗

Eddie: Anytime. Hope you have a great day :)

Yeah, Hen thinks. Against all odds, she hopes so, too.

***

Another text comes around at 14:32, while Hen is taking a break on the roof after that call for Archie, the self-proclaimed invisible man.

Eddie: Hey, just got off the phone with Buck. I’m sorry those dummies forgot your birthday :(

Despite it all, Hen chuckles.

Hen: Don’t be acting like you didn’t remember just because of the Facebook alert. I know you well, Diaz 😉

Eddie: Guilty. Still sent the text though!

Eddie: And I know it sucks, but just remember that they still love you. We all do. Probably gonna be making it up to you for a week. I’ll bet you 10 bucks Chim’s gonna send you balloons. Maybe even a serenading mariachi band.

She snorts into her phone.

Hen: Oh god, I hope not. Haven’t I suffered enough?

Eddie: True. You can always guilt-trip Buck into doing yard work for you, though. He’s pretty handy with that. Kind of wish he was here now, helping me around the house.

Yeah, she bets he does. God, those two are so sickeningly codependent. She’s gonna have to hold an intervention one of these days.

Hen: He’s been giving me THE WORST puppy eyes since they realized they forgot. Could probably make him wash the cars too.

Eddie: Yeah, saw ‘em. He called me all sad, asking about your favourite pie. If you don’t talk to him soon, your house is going to look like a bakery display for a week.

Hen: Thanks for the tip. I DO NOT need my kids on a sugar high after all of this 😂

Eddie: At least they remembered, right? And Karen?

Hen: LOL. Mara dressed up real cute. Not for mama though, for picture day 💔 and Karen at least noticed my (very very nice) birthday outfit, but didn’t connect the dots.

Eddie: Ouch

Hen: Yup. I guess she forgot because of the kids’ schedules. Still hurts, though. There’s usually not a thing missing from her trusty planner.

Eddie: I guess she figured she’ll remember. You guys have celebrated how many thousand birthdays together now? She probably just got too confident in her ability to remember everything she loves about you.

She tries to scoff, but it comes out a little wet. Of course, he’s right. And Karen’s gonna feel so bad when she realizes.

Hen: Damn you for being right.

Hen: I’m gonna be angry with you about that, because you and Athena are the only two people I can’t be mad about missing my birthday.

Eddie: Hahaha sure, if it makes you feel better! Gotta go now, getting ready for work.

Hen: I still can’t believe I’m gonna walk back down to the loft and not see you on shift with us 😔 your talents are being wasted in that Uber

Eddie: Don’t I know it :( take care, Hen. And make Buck your gardener! I’ll be expecting pics.

Hen: 🤔🤔 starting to think gardener Buck is more of a gift for you than it is for me…

What can she say, even in her desperate sorrows, she loves making fun of the whole BuckandEddie thing, no matter how platonic it might be.

The answer is immediate.

Eddie: I’ve gotten tired of all the cooking/baking photos Maddie keeps sending me. He needs new hobbies.

Hen: How many of those do you have?????

Eddie: So many.

Eddie: Save them all, though. I like seeing him happy.

Eddie: He is happy, right? Not just putting a brave face for me every time I call?

Well. She can’t even make fun of that.

Hen: Ever seen those videos of amputated dogs that are learning to move around with prosthetics?

Eddie: Yeah?

Hen: Looks kind of like that. Happy, but still getting used to those wheels instead of legs ❤️

Hen: (The amputated legs are you. And the wheels are all those six thousand two hundred and twenty-two FaceTime calls you’re having on and off shift.)

Eddie: Yeah, I got that. It’s the same for me, really.

Eddie: Really gotta go now. Let me know if Chim sends you balloons!

***

At 21:20, Hen’s the one to send the text.

Hen: [image attached]

Hen: I actually got those fucking balloons. Are you psychic?

Hen: Also featuring chocolates from Bobby.

Eddie: Ha! Not psychic, he’s just predictable.

Hen: LOL, that he is. The worst part is that I actually kind of love them.

Eddie: Not seeing 10 different pies on the table, though. Master baker crisis averted?

Hen: Not yet, but he acted like an awkward butler around me for the rest of the shift. Needed some time to cool off, but I’ll ask him tomorrow.

She sets the phone down and opens the basket of chocolates. There’s a note inside with yet another apology, a birthday wish, and a promise of homemade dinner on their next 48 off. I am loved, I am loved, I am loved, I am loved. She thinks the words on a loop in her head, intending on doing so until she believes then again. God, today sucks.

Her phone pings again, Eddie’s contact illuminated on the screen.

Eddie: I just realized. We have never texted as much as we did today.

Surprised, Hen snorts out a laugh.

Hen: That can’t be right. We’ve known each other for well over 7 years now.

Eddie: I’m serious! Check our previous messages.

And Hen does. The last text before today was a few months ago, when she wished him a happy birthday during their 96 off, to which he responded with a simple thank you. Before that, a bunch of school-related email screenshots and links, mixed in with some carpool-themed “I’ll be there in 15!”s and some Denny and Chris sleepover related negotiations. Each short text thread at least a few days, if not weeks apart. Wow.

Hen: LOL, are we even friends 😂

Eddie: Right?! Like, I know we are, but we have absolutely no way of proving it.

Hen: I’m blaming it on the twelve hundred groupchats the Buckleys have created over the years.

Eddie: Seconded! Why do we need one for every get-together? The original groupchat is fine.

“Mama?” Hen looks up to see Mara standing in the doorway, looking a little unsure of herself.

“Yeah, baby?”

“Mom’s calling you for dinner,” Mara says. “Or, she’s asking if you feel like joining us.”

Hen sighs and stands up. To her surprise, the weight of her chest is lifted somewhat. She didn’t even notice that she calmed down and switched her mood during their chat.

“Of course, I’m coming,” she says and hugs Mara again for good measure before they head to the kitchen. Just to let her know nothing is wrong, that she’s not mad at her. Or anyone, in fact. This stuff happens. I am loved, I am loved, I am loved.

After dinner, she sends Eddie the picture of the cake Mara and Denny brought her.

Hen: [image attached]

Hen: Got the cake after all ❤️🎂

Hen: Thanks for today ❤️

Eddie: Looks good! And, anytime :D

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d3stinyist1red · 8 months ago

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ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ᴇx x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

yandere ex who wants you back

yandere ex who textes you everyday, on everything

yandere ex who you blocked, so how is he still managing to message you?!!!

yandere ex who makes 67 new alt accounts, pretending to be nail artists that you won a give away for

yandere ex who sends you an address, and you come but immediately scowl when you see him open the door

yandere ex who gets slapped by you once you realized he set his whole thing up

yandere ex who calls you everyday, crying into his phone

yandere ex who shows up to your door one day, all dressed up and shit, with flowers in his hand

yandere ex who you gave a dirty look too and slammed the door on his face

yandere ex who comes to your door everyday, with a new tuxedo and flowers, and chocolates asking for a second chance

yandere ex who you broke up with for being hella possessive, even going as far as deleting your family's members numbers so the only person you'll ever talk to is him and only him!

yandere ex who only fucks girls that look like you, hitting them from the back since if he sees their face it'll run the fantasy that hes fucking you

yandere ex who pretends hes fucking you, while fucking some random girl, moaning out your name and everything while the girl dont gaf since yan ex fine asf

yandere ex who can only get his dick wet if hes thinking about you

yandere ex who scrolls through your instagram pics, rubbing his wet pinkish tip as he likes all your pics, groaning out your name

yandere ex who has had several diff gfs after your break up to try to make you jealous and come back to him but never works

yandere ex whose gf has gone through his phone and saw the many diff down bad messages he sents you,

𝐲/𝐧_𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐛𝐚𝐞_𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧

bae take me BACKK

bae PLEASEE

THAT GIRL IN MY INSTA HIGHLIGHTS IS NOTHING COMPARED TO UUU

BAE I LUV U

U MY EVERYTHINGG

PLEASEE

baby

please

BABE

did you get a new man?

is he fucking better than me or something?

y/n im not fucking playing with you

I hope he gets run over

I hope he gets skinned and worms go inside his body and begin to eat him

actually tell ur bf to watch out at excatly 10:34 pm.

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

yandere ex who broke up with his gf and got into a huge agrument after he said "what the fuck? my ex was wayyy better than what ever the fuck your doing" during sex

yandere ex who broke up with his girl after a week of dating and decides to go text you, acting as if he was super hurt and depressed when he just wanted to have a reason to text u

yandere ex who you actually had a convo with, helping him with his 'sadness' (more like freakiness bc he was holing the phone with one hand, stroking his dick the whole convo)

yandere ex who is now ur sorta friend and thinks u guys are back together

yandere ex who never got over you, and wants you back terribly

#yandere #yandere male #yandere blog #clingy yandere #soft yandere #male yandere #yandere boyfriend #yandere x darling #yanderemalexreader #malexreader #yandere blurb #yandere scenarios #yandere headcanons #yandere drabble #yandere oc #destinys worksss<333

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deconstructthesoup · 9 months ago

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One thing I absolutely adore about Dead Boy Detectives is the immaculate costume design. Specifically, how it perfectly encapsulates who the characters are, both as a whole and who they are in the moment.

From the very first scene of the show, we know immediately that Edwin is a bookish, somewhat stuffy guy from the Edwardian era who attended a boarding school, and Charles is a punk from the 1980's who's most likely the wildcard between the two of them, just going off of the way that they're dressed. Both of them have distinct color schemes and different styles, but the general shape of their outfits is actually relatively similar---both of them have collared shirts (Edwin's dress shirt, Charles's polo), something over those shirts (Edwin's vest, Charles's suspenders), a jacket of some kind (Edwin's suit jacket, Charles's flannel thing), a longer overcoat (Edwin's traveling coat, Charles's peacoat), something around the neck (Edwin's bowtie, Charles's necklace), slacks, and nice shoes. They're distinct, yet matching, two clearly defined separate characters yet part of a set.

Edwin's prim, proper, buttoned-up personality lends itself to the way he dresses throughout the season---in the first episode, he only dresses down when he's in the office with Charles, aka his safe place and his safe person, and he doesn't really dress down like that again for a good long while after getting stuck in Port Townsend (though, if my memory serves me correctly, he does take off the suit jacket while watching TV with Niko). But in episode six, he's changed up his usual look for a cozier, casual-looking sweater and a little bit of collarbone, and in episode seven... well, he's in his nightclothes, and he's about as open, raw, and vulnerable as you can get. Edwin's color scheme is also predominately blue, which lines up nicely with his logical and practical, yet deeply sad and closed off personality, and the only time he really wears anything other than his normal blue-and-brown outfit (willingly, that is) is when he's in that green sweater in episode six. And, uh... all I can say is that it's quite telling how blue and green---or, well, teal---are the main colors of the gay/mlm flag.

Charles, by contrast, dresses down a lot, and that makes a lot of sense when you consider the fact that unlike Edwin, he feels comfortable pretty much anywhere. On any given episode, he goes from wearing his peacoat to just wearing his flannel to ditching the flannel to not even wearing the freaking polo---though, again, the latter is something that only happens when he's in the office with Edwin. Safe space, safe person. And, well, plenty of people have analyzed Charles's polo shirt going from red to burgundy to black over the course of the series, and there being a little bit of red under the collar of his coat that's only visible when Edwin fixes it, and then it goes back to burgundy, and then it's red again when Edwin's out of Hell... for good reason! It's color symbolism at its finest! Not to mention, the red and black not only perfectly contrasts Edwin's color scheme, but it also lines up with Charles's personality---he's a rebel, he's hotheaded, he's bold and brash and loud... and yes, he's angry, but he's also so, so loving.

When we first meet Crystal after she loses her memories, her outfit choices feel very deliberate. They're stylish and vaguely trendy, they're arty and a little bit witchy---pretty fitting for a psychic who's also a showbiz kid, even if she doesn't know that last part. But all of her clothes appear thrifted, or at the very least vintage, and the patterns and the general vibe all feel natural and comforting. Her makeup's always fairly simple, her hair's either down or up in a couple of cute space buns... overall, this Crystal looks like the kind of person who'd make you tea when you're in a bad mood, who'll listen when you just need to vent, and who may not always know the right thing to say but will understand what you're going through. But when we see her in the flashbacks, her clothing's flashy and prioritizes high-end trends over comfort, she's either got her hair up or has it straightened, and she not only has dramatic makeup, but acrylics. This is a girl who talks shit about you behind your back, who's bitter and cynical and wants everyone to feel the same way, who makes up for the lack of love and stability in her life via material things. It's also worth noting that Crystal's color scheme has a lot of purple, which is a color that connects to wealth and luxury, but also creativity and magic---which, yeah, fits her two conflicting sides pretty damn well.

You cannot talk about Niko Sasaki without talking about her outfits, and the meaning behind each of them has already been talked about at length. However, one thing that really stands out to me is that the reason they're so iconic isn't just because of the monochrome color schemes, but because they're out there. They're weird, they're eclectic, they're a little mismatched in style sometimes, and they're so unapologetically her. Niko wears heart-shaped sunglasses, unironically. Everything about the way she dresses speaks to how, even though she's a recovering shut-in who initially doesn't want to be perceived, she's still very sure of who she is.

Jenny's design, like Charles and Edwin's, is a design that gives you the key information you need the minute she first appears onscreen. The dark makeup, the silver jewelry, the leather apron, and the hairstyle all point to a person who's tough, doesn't take anyone's shit, and has long since given up on caring what other people think---in other words, she's a badass. But the butterfly tattoo hints at a softer side, a side that we see time and time again throughout the series as she shows that she cares about Crystal and Niko, and even the boys... eventually. Also, Jenny's design is perhaps one of the most clearly queer-coded in the series, to the point where her being a confirmed lesbian is pretty much a no-brainer.

Esther's design oozes camp, from top to bottom. The fluffy coat, the bustier, the boots and the cane and the everything, speak to a woman who's kept with the times and yet has seen it all. There's really not a lot I can fully say about her design, other than what Charles has already said: "She looks like a witch... like, kind of a sexy witch, who smokes a lot." (Or maybe I'm just tired and running out of steam at this point, idk, I love Esther's design and I can't really put it into words.) It's also pretty fitting that her color scheme has a lot of yellow in it---after all, she's always striving for more, so what better color for her than the color of gold?

Everything about the Night Nurse's design speaks to a woman who follows rules and discipline above all else, from the pantsuit to the pinned-up hairstyles to the tie to the heels. She's also the most muted out of the main cast in terms of color, dressing mostly in browns, dull greens, and duller browns---and while I don't have a lot to go into detail about there, I feel like that's kind of a symbol of her narrow-minded and bureaucratic worldview.

And the animal characters... Jesus Christ, I fully forget that they're all being played by human actors. Tragic Mick dresses like a man who's always spent his life by the sea, layered denim and all, and it's never a stretch to see this sad, bushy-bearded, baggy-clothed fisherman and imagine him as a walrus lounging on a beach. Monty, at first glance, seems to only wear black, which would be perfectly fitting for a crow, but when he's in better lighting, you see that he dresses in layers of red and blue, calling to how he envies Charles and Edwin and clearly longs for something more---and this might just be me, but I think that even though his outfits seem fairly normal at first glance, they feel kind of like a costume for Monty more than anything else, like he's trying to emulate a teenager that he's seen on TV more than someone in real life.

The Cat King fits this just as well, with all of his outfits aligning perfectly with whatever his cat form is at the time---when he's a fluffy ginger, it's always sequins and fur coats and clothing pieces that are specifically designed to take up space and call attention, and when he's a black shorthair, it's sleek styles and shiny leather and pieces that are designed to cut an intimidating yet more subtle figure. And while I could go into detail about all of those, what really stands out to me is how clearly queer everything is---more than Jenny's alt lesbian attire, more than Esther's campy coat and corset. From the very first scene he's in, he's wearing a skirt, and it looks natural. Nothing about the way the Cat King presents himself is exaggerated, nothing about the way he dresses is played for laughs---he's flamboyant and feminine and flirty, and he looks so fucking hot while he does it. It's gorgeous.

So... yeah, uh, all the awards for the Dead Boy Detectives costume designers!

#dead boy detectives #dead boy detectives analysis #costume design #edwin payne #charles rowland #crystal palace #niko sasaki #jenny green #esther finch #the night nurse #tragic mick #monty finch #the cat king

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prettyboykatsuki-moved · 7 months ago

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call it quits or call it destiny | h. umemiya.

✮ tags ; afab + fem!reader(she/her pronouns, referred to as a girl, gets dressed up by tsubaki and kotoha), reader gets their hair braided (no desc of texture) and puts on makeup, lore heavy reader backstory + personality, deliquent!reader, gap moe, best friends to lovers, idiots to lovers, themes of insecurity, mutual pining,the use of she/her for tsubaki, jealousy, confessions, loss of virginity, creampies / unprotected sex, oral (f!recieving), fingering, 18+

✮ wc ; 13.9k (dont. don't say anything)

✮ a/n ; me when i completely lose my mind because i have a weekend off. whats wrong with me.

anyways. there's no major triggers for this but be forewarned reader is meant to be very rag-tag deliquent type. she has a strong personality and generally is not feminine. she is like a mangy street cat a bit. also if u want u should listen to easily by bruno major while reading.

✮ synopsis ; you've been quietly pining for umemiya for a little over ten years with no plans of confessing.

you did not have a plan for what you would do if umemiya confessed to you first.

Once a day, everyday - Umemiya will come into your store, pause, smile, and confess his love to you before going off on his own.

And once a day, everyday, you reject this confession with a soft huff telling him to quit being stupid before shooing him away.

It's become a ritual. A fixture in your daily routine that you're not allowed to ignore despite how hard you're trying.

He's been doing it for three months, more or less.

His reason for confessing everyday? Because he’s waiting on the day you confess back, of course. Which you've refused to do for the last few months and will continue to refuse for as long as you’ve got.

It's not because you don't like him, alright?

You've known Umemiya since middle school and you've liked him for about the same time. One of the core memories of your childhood is the day you met him, crying while sitting on a swing-set, after what felt like the worst day of your life.

( On the day you run away from home, you seriously consider not going back.

You don’t really know how long you sit there. People walk by but most of them move on quickly. It’s mid-day before anyone bothers to stop and ask you something.

"I've never seen you around before.” A strange looking boy approaches, friendly and unassuming but not entirely cheerful “Did you just move here?"

You keep quiet, closing your eyes and hoping your lack of response is enough to push him away. Your hope fizzles out when you hear the swing creak as he sits besides you.

"I'm Umemiya Hajime. I live close by." His voice is airy and causal. "I'm sorry you're having a bad day.”

"Fuck off," You reply bluntly, frowning. “I don’t need sympathy. Leave me the hell alone.”

He pauses before pushing himself slightly forward to barely swing.

“I couldn’t leave you alone while you’re sad,” He voices willfully. "It might make you feel better to talk about it."

In disbelief at his response, you finally look up and asses him properly. It doesn’t do much to change your initial unfavorable impression. White hair, blue eyes and a little taller than you. You’re definitely about the same age. All of that to say, there’s something weird about him that you can’t quite place.

Despite his manner and way of speaking though, you don’t actually think he’s that weak which makes his whole aura even more unnerving to you. His attempt at being non-threatening doesn’t work for him. He’s being a real try-hard about trying to make you comfortable…

Either way, he’s got an air about him that puts you on the defensive.

Talking to someone about it had never been much of any option, and somehow it pisses you off that he’s being so brazen about it.

Maybe if you tell him about, he’ll stop prying into your business. Or maybe you’re just looking for excuses to let off steam.

You don't care anymore. You wipe your nose with the back of your sleeve.

"I don't live here and I didn’t move. I ran away." You reply.

He keeps looking at you, curious, inquisitive and sympathetic.

"Why?"

"I broke a girls nose." You scowl. The words rise up in your throat like bile. Make you feel cornered. The wounds too fresh. "It—she bullied me for years for one. And I never fought back, it was all petty bullshit anyway and I didn't like getting calls home. I didn't care about that but she—it wasn't for nothing. She was causing trouble for Sensei."

Umemiya keeps to himself, humming in response to your troubles. Your voice breaks on your next sentence, chest tightening.

"It doesn't matter what she does to me but—" Your hands ball up at your first. Your throat feels thick, eyes suddenly watering as your chest throbs . "Anyway, I couldn’t let it go like normal."

He hums. "So you hit her?"

You shake your head, sniffling. "Not at first. Just told her to shut up. Said that she didn't know what she was talking about. She hit me first..." You screw your eyes shut, sighing. "...said she was gonna spread rumors about him just trying to get under my skin and be malicious,” You lean back slightly and look up towards the gray sky. “I punched her after that."

You realize he's looking at your bloodied knuckles, but he isn't making an expression that you can read easily. You don’t remember the last time you spoke to someone like this who wasn’t Tsukimori-sensei.

"Are you crying because you got in trouble?"

“Who cares about that?” You sigh “Sensei had to put his job on the line and take responsibility for me,” Your brow furrows in frustration. “He’s the one person I don’t want to cause trouble for,” You grip the iron chains of the swing set with a closed fist and finally admit what you’ve been avoiding to say out loud. “I don’t want him to hate me…”

The kid besides you smiles absently at your words. Half-way between listening and recalling something else, it seems like. You can’t help but wonder what the hell his deal is. You barely know him but you’re spilling your guts.

He speaks after a long while. "I don't think he sees it that way. I think you should try to talk to him about it."

You make a face, rejecting the idea. "What? No way."

Umemiya shrugs, smiling - though it doesn't quite meet his eyes.

"He sounds like he cares about you. If he knew your reasons, there's no way he would hold it against you. And it’s important to share your burdens with people who care for you." You look over and see him smiling somberly at the mulch beneath his shoes before returning back to what you’ve grown to know as his usual self. "Anyways, I think we should be friends. Tell me your name."

You sniffle again. What a weird guy. Well you say that but

You still give him your name.

"What a pretty name,"

When you tell him to shut up again, your new friend Umemiya just laughs.

And you find you feel just a little bit lighter.)

That night, Umemiya walked with you to take the last train and told you to come see him again with good news.

You aren't sure what compelled you to follow his advice. Maybe because he was the first person who sat down and listened to you about it other than Sensei himself.

Tsukimori-sensei was your school counselor and the only adult in your entire life that seemed to worry about. You didn't have any friends in middle school and you were a scary looking delinquent girl without a mother and a mostly absent father.

But Sensei was always incredible gentle to you and incredibly kind. And despite what rumors that girl tried to spread - he was never anything more than an important mentor.

It was fucking embarrassing crying in front of him but because you were honest - you got to keep in touch with him. He attended your middle school and high school graduation - supporting you as you started to sort your life out. Became the closest thing you ever really got to a parental figure.

Over time, you got close with Umemiya and developed strong loyalty to him. You attended an all-girls middle and high school the next town over - totaling one other friend in all six years of your remaining education. Lack of socialization meant that Umemiya somewhat became the very center of your existence.

It was easy to visit him thanks to parental neglect. You sort of melted into his life. Tsubaki once called you his guard dog as a half-joke, but there's some truth to the sentiment. Quick to defend, quick to heel, and always happy to see him.

You, like many people, owe Umemiya a lot. His meddling over the course of ten years gave you reason to push forward. He even encouraged you to try and attend school and not give up on living a half-decent life.

You've got a never-ending list of short-comings but being with him didn't make you hate yourself. It made you want to be better because you knew Umemiya would accept you for whoever you decided to be.

So despite your delinquency, you managed to graduate high school. Post-graduation, you attended a vocational culinary school and became a patisserie before moving to Furin for permanent residency. You opened a bakery and supply bread to Kotoha-chans diner.

You made something of your life mostly 'cause of Umemiya. He's not your only friend anymore but he's still your best. Even though you never really pictured things like dating or romance - in some way it only makes sense that it'd be that meddling, kind-hearted idiot that you end up falling for it.

Lovesickness aside, you respect Umemiya more than anyone in your personal life.

He’s stuck around with someone like you this long after all. That means a lot to you.

Somehow the two of you mesh well despite being totally opposite.

You decided as soon as you realized it sometime in high school that you'd keep your feelings a secret for the rest of your life. You had a strong resolve in your beliefs about the whole thing which made it easy. You hid 'em so well even Sakura's stupid accurate romance detector didn't uncover them.

When you picture Umemiya's future - it was easy to picture the kind of woman he would end up with. Another kind-hearted idiot like him, a social butterfly. Someone a little softer.

In any case it definitely was not you. You didn't need it to be. You've received so much from him already, you never entertained the idea. Plus, Umemiya has dated other people over the years, so in your head there was never any hope to cling onto.

For all reasons listed above, a requited romance is at the very bottom of your expectations.

That's why you've been in this fucking conundrum.

To say it was a complete shock to you when Umemiya openly confessed to you many months ago would be understatement of the goddamn century.

He confessed right on the last day of Spring, totally out of the blue.

(It’s a little unusual for Umemiya to call you at this hour. If it were anyone else, you’d be a little upset since you’ve gotta be up around four-am to get prepared for the day.

It’s him though so you’re particularly tolerant, yawning as you find Umemiya on a familiar swing-set, still wearing your PJ’s.

"Why am I out here in the middle of the night with you?"

Your words lack any real malice as you sit down. Umemiya remains totally quiet. It's unusual for him to not immediately go on a tangent upon seeing you.

"Oi. Earth to Hajime." You frown at him. "Did ya get beat up before coming here and scramble your brain? Give me the popsicle before it melts."

He looks over at you and chuckles as he hands you the bag from the convenience store. You ignore his odd behavior and open up said popsicle before it melts - carefully splitting it down the middle and giving him the bigger side before going to town on your own. He takes it from you but doesn't even bring it up to his mouth.

Weird.

"Did something... happen? Like seriously happen?" You take a long lick of your iced treat. It's melon flavored, your favorite. "Seeing you frown doesn't feel right. Gives me the heebie-jeebies."

He cracks a little smile at that. It makes you feel better. He shakes his head.

"Mm, nothing happened. I just have something I want to tell you."

You nod in understanding. "'kay. Take your time."

He blinks, surprised.

"Hm? Aren't you gonna scold me for wasting your time?"

"Nah. Whatever it is must be serious if it's making you all introspective or whatever. 's fine. Bring me coffee tomorrow and I'll forgive ya."

His lip twitches up. "I l really like that about you."

You feel yourself flush and wave a hand at him. "Ahh, shut up."

He pauses for a second then shakes his head. "Mm. It's more like I like everything about you, actually."

You twist your face in confusion. "What are you on about now?"

"That's what I came here to tell you." Umemiya says after a deep breath. He says it so casually you wonder if you're mishearing him - leaning back to look up at the stars. "I really, really like you. I just felt like I had to tell you that"

You stare at him in disbelief.

"Wha—huh?"

He doesn't even flinch as he repeats it.

"I like you."

"No the hell you don't."

He furrows his brow with a light laugh. "I just told you that I do, silly."

"But that's—" You don't say the word impossible. You really want too, but you know exactly how he would react if you did. You simply shake your head. "No, you don't."

"I thought you might respond like this so don't worry but how about you?" He shrugs then looks at you intently. "I thought you might like me too."

Your eyes go wide. Oh fuck.

You feel like a deer caught in headlights. You know you should be happy about this, deep down. That'd be the normal response.

But you just feel complicated as shit instead. Fuck does he mean? Umemiya.... likes you? There's just no way that's true. Not after all of this time. And how the fuck does he know you like him back when you've been keeping it in?

You can't bring yourself to look him in the face and lie. Your heart rises to your throat as you shakily stand to your feet.

"Stop...thinking whatever you've been thinking. I'm going home." You reply in complete panic.

The minute you say it, you turn on your heel so you don't have to look at his face. You don’t even want to know.

And before Umemiya can catch you and try to talk it out, you bolt.

What the fuck was that?)

For the last few months, you've been avoiding the topic of conversation as much as you humanly can.

The possibility of Umemiya even just accepting your feelings was already far beyond your imagination, but him returning them? Confessing first? That wasn't even in your realm of possibility.

Ever since then, you've been losing your mind trying to force your life and train of thought to go back to normal. You’ve done all of the math on it.

Realistically, you can't ignore him. Your lives are so mixed together it'd be impossible unless you went under protection and changed your name which you briefly considered. You thought of turning him down but you’re pretty sure you wouldn’t be able to actually do it despite how good you are at keeping it in. Either way, your best option logistically is feigning ignorance and trying to keep the whole thing out of your mind entirely which should've been easy.

Tricking yourself into believing the whole thing was a dream? Lightwork.

Except. Except.

Umemiya just won't give up.

He confesses to you again every single day. Worse, he doesn't care whose around to hear him. No one in your friend group seems even the tiniest bit shocked by it which doesn't help the situation. You can't get used to it, can't get used to him being so fucking cheeky as he stops you midway through normal conversation to tell you he loves you.

He's persistent to a fault and while you've done well feigning immunity - you can't survive like this.

You've graduated to tell him to go away and treating the whole thing like some big joke.

But honestly?

You're avoiding having a proper conversation about it. Umemiya is especially keen in not letting you forget that. And determined to make you confess.

But you're not going to to let him sway you.

You've got principles, after all.

After you close up shop on Friday, you get dressed to attend a kickback with all of your friends.

It's a barbecue technically - commemorating the end of summer. Togame is really into grilling and in their weird domestic partnership, Chouji really enjoys hosting. They've done this once or twice a year ever since they started living together.

Once you've finished cleaning up the store, you take the train to Kotoha's place - mistakenly assuming you'd leave as soon as you got there. However you failed to realize that Tsubaki and Kotoha would be getting ready together.

You got jumped as soon as you walked through the door - so now you're wearing a different pair of clothes that Tsuabki got for you and waiting for them to finish getting you dressed up so you can leave.

Tsuabkino is inches from your face while Kotoha braids your hair. You feel itchy and exposed but with both of them here there's no way you're going to get out of wearing it.

"Can we just go?" You grumble, not enjoying the feeling of being poked and prodded.

"No," Tsubaki insists, frown making her expression pinch. "You have half an eyelash on. Sit still."

"He'll be happy to see you dressed up," Kotoha adds, trying to encourage you. You frown and look down.

"Whatever. I don't care about makin' him happy."

The both of them pause and stare at you until you fold under the pressure - screwing your eyes shut and making you flush.

“Such a blatant lie.”

Tsubaki giggles. “Right?”

Your face feels hot. "Ahhh, alright already. Shut up."

"Honest girls are much cuter," Tsubaki coos. You give her a half-assed glare.

"Don't you like Hajime? Why're you trying to set me up with him still?" You mumble. You always think they’d make a perfect pair.

"Of course I like him. He's my prince." She smiles at you. “But it’s a little different to how a certain someone loves him. And well, if you knew the way he looked at you…"

You frown, feeling hot all the way up to your ears as you ball your fists up and look down at your lap. "Whatever."

"You should stop trying to worm your way out of it," Kotoha adds, much less sweetly. "You know how he is. He couldn't give up on you for ten years like some idiot."

You blink. "Huh? But ten years would mean -"

Kotoha braids your hair even tighter making you wince. "I know. You're both stupid like that."

"Don't be mean, Kotoha-chan. And you, be a little more honest, okay?"

You sigh deeply.

"Ain't like anything is gonna happen either way. I already told you both I'm not accepting his confession,"

"Cause you're a huge wuss, yeah we know."

You elbow Kotoha lightly.

"Maybe nothing will," Tsubaki hums mischievously. "But it feels nice to dress up for him, right?"

You pretend the thought doesn't make your hear flutter.

Tsubaki does you the kindness of laughing lightly before moving on.

You arrive to the function an hour later than planned and stick mostly with Kotoha and Tsubaki until half way through the evening.

Loosening up with a few drinks, the three of you part ways to catch-up with different people. It's not rare you see them, but it's not often everyones schedules allow them to be in the same place.

Lucky for you, Umemiya does you the courtesy of not confessing during the first half of the night before food comes out.

(Though you do spit beer in his face after he calls you pretty, which he takes on the chin after cleaning up.)

After dinner, the function simmers down significantly. People quietly break off into groups and chat to each other into the late night. About that time people split whatever desserts they brought among guests.

You brought cookies and something specifically for Chouji and Togame as thanks for hosting.

Towards the end of the night, you find yourself sticking sort of close to Umemiya. Though he's having his own one-on-one conversation with Hiragi while sitting next to you , turned the other way.

You busy yourself catching up to Suo, Sakura and Nirei - all of whom you consider yourself close to.

Of them, you're the closest to Nirei which always surprises people.

The kids a total wimp but he helped you years ago study to graduate so you're a little closer to him than everyone else. He's a great guy though and you hang out alone sometimes too.

The conversations gone far left at this point in the evening.

Suo leans back against his chair and looks toward Sakura besides him with a lazy smile.

"Sakura-chan would make a great wife."

You snort listening to them bicker. Sakura grows beet red, throwing an empty beer can at Suo's head that he catches gracefully.

"Go die."

"What? You're good at domestic work and you have a cute side, Isn't that all you need?"

"Shut up. I'll kill you."

As Suo breaks out into laughs, Sugishita comes down from the kitchen just in time to catch the argument. He crinkles his nose up.

"Oh, Sugishita-kun. 'Sup."

He nods to your greeting as he leans against the wood railing of the outdoor deck.

"What the hell are you two talking about?"

'What? You mean about Sakura being a good wife?" Suo asks. Sugishita crinkles his nose.

"Don't phrase it so repugnantly but yeah I guess."

"We were talking about marriage 'cause I was complaining at work."

"What's happening at work?"

Nirei sighs as he lays it out again to Sugishita after having given the spiel to the three of you once.

"One of my superiors at work is a lot older than me and keeps bringing up marriage," Nirei explains woefully. "It's all he talks about. He thinks I'm seeing someone."

Sugishita frowns. "Eh? What gave him that impression?"

A good question you hadn't considered asking.

You raise your brow at Nirei who laughs awkwardly while he holds your gaze.

"You know that picture of us from highschool? When he came to the cafe at your school festival?"

You smile spitefully, crinkling your nose in faux distaste. "The one wear we wearing those stupid maid costumes?"

"Yup. That's the one. It's a good picture of us so I keep it on my desk and he saw it so..."

"You keep a picture of just the two of you on your desk? No wonder he got that impression.” Suo adds.

You sense Umemiya suddenly tense which you find weird. He's still talking to Hiragi though when you glance from the corner of your eye. You brush it off.

Nirei blushes, elbowing him.

"Shut up. I've got group pictures and stuff too. But he just singled out that one cause you know,"

You nod in understanding before it dawns on you. Your eyes widen. "Oh, shit? Does that old man think you're dating me?"

Nirei closes his eyes and sighs. "He won't even let me correct him."

You pause before breaking out into genuine laughter.

"Pfft, that's terrible." You reply sympathetically, taking a sip of your beer before giving a mischievous grin. "Maybe you can make it work for you though, eh? Tell 'em we got hitched forreal and then I'll call you on the phone and nag you to get home for dinner so you can leave earlier."

Nirei acts like he's touched making you laugh even harder. "You'd do that for me?"

You give him another toothy grin. "I'll even help you fake some wedding photos. We'll be accomplices." You lean back with a shrug. "You gotta wear the dress though."

Sugishita laughs at that. "You being a blushing bride is a little..."

You snort, shooting him a dirty look "Shut up."

"Deal. Not a bad plan honestly." Nirei says with a sigh. "Whatever gets me out of the office early."

"Even if that means being married to me?" You joke.

He smiles at you. "Aw, what do you mean? That's the best part."

You chuckle at him good-natuedly and the conversation quickly moves on.

The alcohol is starting to make you dizzy so you eventually tune out as the four of them talk, glancing at Umemiya from the corner of your eye.

You swear you catch a glimpse of his jaw ticking.

For the rest of the night, Umemiya is off.

No one else can tell. You know that because the atmosphere remains light until everyone leaves around two-am. There's no blips or tension, no awkward pauses.

But you know Umemiya. He's been real weird all night and it's bugging the shit out of you.

It's a well past two now, and you've just left the late night cab you took with him. Umemiya lives close so he's walking you home.

He's usually energetic after a get-together like that so his dead silence is weirding you out. You're pretty good at figuring his feelings out but for once you feel totally clueless.

It feels as if even the cicadas and crickets have gone to sleep. There's nothing bu the streetlights overhead and soft glow of the moon, coupled with the soft click of your shoes on the pavement. Occasionally, a car will pass by.

At one point, it becomes too much. There's still a few minutes until you're home.

You stop in the middle of the sidewalk and turn around to look at him. Umemiya pauses, startled as he stops with you, and doesn't smile which only makes your concern worsen.

"Oi. What's up with you?"

"Hm?"

You cross your arms over your chest.

"Don't 'hm' me. You've been in a bad mood few for the last few hours. It's gonna bug me all night if I don't ask, so what's up?"

He stares at you.

"You noticed?"

"How could I not notice?"

"I was hiding it pretty well, I thought." He states more than asks, half-smile on his face.

"Yeah. But well," You shrug. "I'm always looking at you for better or for worse. So. What's wrong?"

He stares at you a long time before sighing, running his fingers through his hair. You've never seen him like this. You've seen him pissed off before, seen him mildly irritated - but never this... pouty? It's not like he's pissed.

He's quiet, taking a deep breath of cool night air before sliding his hands into his pockets and taking a good look at your face.

"Do you know that I like you?"

Your eyes widen as you blink wildly.

This is what he wants to talk about?

He pins you down with his stare, hands in his pockets and intense as ever.

"Don't even think about bolting this time, okay? I'm asking you seriously. Do you?"

Your eyes flicker down the concrete - feeling extremely uncomfortable and suddenly sweaty. You shrug, unsure of what else you could say or do.

"Hard not to know." You mumble. "You tell me everyday."

"But do you get it?"

Your frown deepens.

"Of course not. How could I possibly get something like that, stupid?"

He takes a deep breath. "But you like me, don't you?"

Panic sets in. If you could sink straight into the Earth you would.

"...Never said that."

He calls your name quietly. "Look at me, at least. Stop running away from me and just look."

You know you're being stubborn but you can't help it. You've kept it a secret for ten years and all of a sudden he wants you to tell him you like him? You've held it in for so long already and he's telling you not to run away.What other choice is there?

One wrong move move and everything will come crashing down inside of you. You can't even lie about it either.

Damn it.

"I won't look." Your voice is warbly and it makes you feel so pathetic you could die, tucking your chin petulantly "Don't wanna,"

Umemiya frowns at you.

"If you say you don't like me I'll let it go."

You remain very quiet and close your eyes tighter. He sighs softly, making your chest hurt.

After a minute, you muster up the courage to be dishonest - determined to drop it at all costs. You're slow as you pick your head up.

"I don't like you," You repeat slowly, carefully - trying not to stumble the words. "So quit it, alright?"

He laughs humorlessly and holds your gaze.

"That's the first time you've ever actually lied to me. You're terrible at it,"

"I'm not lying." You snap. Umemiya smiles somberly when he sees tears on the corners of your eyes. He steps closer to you. You freeze. When his hand reaches cups your cheek, you feel your legs lose all their strength and close your eyes. You're terrified to even look at him, not wanting him to see what you know is obvious on your face.

He wipes them as he tilts your face towards him slowly.

"Tell me, at least. If you're going to refuse me, don't I deserve to know why? Do you hate the idea of dating me that much?"

You shake your head. "Stupid. How would anyone hate that?"

"So I deserve to know why you're turning me down."

A long moment of silence draws you out of your feelings. You guess that's fair enough. Maybe this way he'll leave you alone - as long you're clear about your reasons. He’s the earnest type after all.

You manage to suck up all your tears and clear your throat enough to give him an explanation.

You step back a little from him, putting some distance between you as you stare down at the sidewalk.

"You know... I respect ya more than anyone else. You've always been someone I admire. And I uh, owe you a lot. So I only want the very best for you and all." You scratch your neck, taking a deep sigh. "For me... regardless of my feelings, I want you to be with someone who really fits, you know? Well put-together and everything. Someone that suits you better"

He pauses before frowning.

"Regardless of your feelings? Does that mean you were willingly pushing them aside?" He says distraught. "For how long?"

You shrug, trying to lighten the conversation. It’s too devastating otherwise. "About ten years, give or take."

The sheer distress in his face makes you want to keep talking, just he doesn’t look so disheartened. Like some explanation will clear things up.

"It ain't a bad thing, Hajime. You've given me a lot and I'm serious when I say I want the best for you. I love you, if that's what you wanna hear. I'm content just being besides you as your friend." You say with a shrug. "I can be kinda selfish but there's a limit to my greed,yknow."

He looks like he's in shock.

"Wanting someone to love you back isn't greedy or selfish."

You find you don't have anything to say with that, but hope he drops it for the time being.

Umemiya stares at you seriously. It makes your breath hitch meeting his eyes, blue with all the depth in the world. You feel like you can't pull yourself from his gaze.

"And there was never a possibility? Not once that I could've liked you? That I wanted to be with you?"

"It doesn't matter." You say. "And no, it never crossed my mind.."

"Stop saying it doesn't matter. Of course it matters. Your feelings matter the most so don't toss them aside so easily. Do you really believe that you're not right for me?"

You aren’t sure how to answer him.

"You think you're not good enough for me." He says with some realization more than asks.

It's the first time you see his face change. When you look up, he looks well and truly angry. The whole thing is confusing.

"I'm sorry," You say. It’s such a timid thing to say but you don’t know how else to fix.

"It's not—I just don't like hearing you talk about yourself like that. I don't like hearing someone I love get spoken about like that.”

You ignore the sentiment again and wait in the quiet. You always thought this would be an easier conversation to have but it hurts.

He sighs a bit, getting closer to you again. He’s less upset than before but there’s something else in his expression.

"You wanted to know why I was upset earlier right? It's because of you and Nirei-kun." He admits.

"What about him?"

"You talked about marrying him so casually. I overheard and it bothered me all night."

Your eyes go wide.

"I—it wasn't serious."

"I know that. I never thought I was that childish either but you being married to someone else as a joke." He laughs humorlessly. "I really hated it. That’s why I asked if you know how much I like you."

You feel frozen in place by his admission.

Umemiya steps towards you faster than you can muster up a counter for why he shouldn’t bother.

His arms around you feel sudden. His grip on you is so tight, like you could slip through his arms all at once if he loosens it. He smells like cologne and beer and summer but it's not unpleasant. He rests his chin on your head and lets out a deep breath.

Your chest is throbbing for different reasons now. Shit. Shit, shit, shit.

"If you won't be greedy, then you should at least let me be." He lets out a long, tense breath "At least let me have what I want."

You're stuck. Your mouth moves faster than your brain.

"Why me? And why now?"

Umemiya pulls away to stare down at you. You can't bring yourself to turn away from him.

"It was always you. I felt guilty... for wanting to you that way when you were a precious friend. Wanting to treat you delicately when you were strong and proud." He admits. Hearing him say that out loud embarrasses you to no end, “But it was those things that made me love you. Strong yet clumsy. Prideful yet honest. Awkward yet trying to be gentle. Loyal. And always considerate of everyone. Of me, when I was taking care of everyone else."

Your stomach feels like it's going to erupt. You're losing your resolve faster than you know how to mend it.

"Stop saying stuff like that."

Umemiya holds you tighter and shakes his head. "No. How else will I get you to change your mind?"

"I won't change my mind." You say stubbornly.

"I love you." He repeats.

You squirm.

"Stop it,"

"I want to be with you. I want to kiss you. I want to hold you. I want to stay by your side forever. I want to do things with you and make you feel good. I want to make you smile. I want to grow old with you."

Your hearts fluttering. Fuck.

"Idiot. What are you saying? Let me go."

"It has to be you for me. I won't have anyone else no matter what you think. The person I love is you. I love you."

"Hajime." Your voice is shaking.

His drops down to a whisper.

“I can’t change how you think of yourself overnight but I can tell you that there’s no point in trying to push me away. Whether or not you accept me, we’ll never stop being side by side - so please stop fighting it.”

You put your hands on his chest, trying to push him away. “Stop it,”

"Please tell me it's okay to love you how I want too," He says, soft and doting while he crushes you in his arms. "And please love me in return."

You put your hands up to your misty eyes wanting to wipe them away as he melts through the rest of your resolve like it's nothing. It's hard not to be moved. You've been pretending for ten long years that you don't love him at all and he's declaring his love for you like it's the easiest, most sensible and sane thing in the world.

A kind-hearted, willful, meddling idiot. How you are you supposed to push him away when he's holding you this tight?

"Shit," You voice, huffing as your voice shakes. "Don’t be stupid, alright? If you’re so insistent, I wont let you back out if you meet someone else."

He laughs wetly.

"I already tried meeting other people, but it's still you. Always was."

He smiles above you. 6'2 with watery eyes with the look of pure relief like it's the best news he's ever heard in his life. It's too much for you. Your heart is racing so fast you wonder if you're gonna die.

"Can I kiss you?" He asks.

Your eyes go wide as you look away, not wanting to look too eager. "That's..."

He makes another puppy-dog kinda face. "Please?"

You're embarrassed by how easy it makes you give in. "...Do whatever you want."

He laughs bright and warm as his hands slide up to cup your cheeks and kiss you with all the passion he can muster. It's intense, almost suffocating the way he slots his lips against yours and breathes you in. He doesn't let you up from it, doesn't part from you for a second even when he pulls away - noses brushing and stealing the air from your lungs.

It's your stupid first kiss and it's perfect - so perfect you wonder if you're going to wake up in a dream. He kisses you hard and makes you stand on your toes to chase his lips when he pulls back. Elated. Ecstatic when you grasp the front of his shirt and keep kissing him when he stops.

He pauses before littering your whole face with pecks even as you weakly protest, unable to stop frowning but feeling the happiest you've ever been.

There's so much longing in between you, you feel like you could die. You feel helpless.

"Can I come home with you?" He asks, once he stops - only holding your hand a short distance away. "I want more time together."

You feel your skin burn hot as you nod, all while trying not to read too much into it.

"Yeah."

You barely get to lock your door behind you before Umemiya crowds you in the door way.

His arms circle around your waist, chin resting against your shoulder.. Broad chest against your back, you try not to flounder as his warm voice caresses your ear.

You're going to die young if he keeps this up.

"I love you,"

You flush. "Enough already. And let me go so I can wash up."

"Do you need to sleep early? Thought you were closed tomorrow. Wanted to talk a little longer."

You pause.

"...Sleep?"

"Hm?"

You both freeze as the miscommunication dawns at the same time. You try to pull away from him as soon as you realize, skin burning hot. You're quick but Umemiya is quicker.

"Hajime." You say gravely. "If you don't let me go, I'm gonna kill you."

"No way," He laughs as you attempt to wriggle out of his grasp. "Is that why you let me in? Were you expecting something?"

"Shut up! Don't say anything, I swear I'll —"

"Don't be like that, baby. I'm not making fun of you. Hey, turn around. Look at me."

You're upset but you think the reason is more embarrassing then the feeling.

"Don't wanna,"

Umemiya laughs as he gently turns you around to face him. In your utter mortification, you can barely bring yourself to meet his gaze.

"Stop staring."

He doesn't.

"Do you normally invite guys in just 'cause they ask?"

"Wha—no! It's because it's you, stupid!"

He smiles in satisfaction.

"You shouldn't say yes so easily even if it is me. What if I took advantage of you?"

You think he's just being smug for the sake of it, which is pissing you off. You grab him by the front of his shirt.

"Fuck off. Maybe there's a reason I said yes."

He pauses before his eyes widen. You push your hand against his mouth before he blurt anything else out but he's quick to pry your hand away.

"Don't say it." You hiss.

"I was planning on taking my time. I cherish you and I want to make sure you know that. I'm just a little surprised you’re moving so quick when you were telling me not too long ago."

You can feel the tips of your ears growing hot, feeling even more self-conscious. "Whatever. If we're just going to sleep I still need to wash up."

He keeps his arms behind your back so you can’t move.

"Hey. Didn't say that. It's not like I don't want to do it with you. Just don't want you to regret anything."

You give him an flat look. "I was prepared to give you my virginity and you're worrying about that. Unless you're planning on backing out, there's no way I would."

"Your—" His jaw drops a little.

You drop your voice down just a little close as you grab his collar.

"If you get it, then hurry up and fuck me. Stupid Hajime."

He gives you the dopiest smile you've ever seen while your face grows increasingly hot, leaning to in to press a kiss to your lips. He brushes his nose with yours. Laughter from deep in his chest.

"Yes, ma'am."

Once you give Umemiya permission to have you, you get the feeling that there really is no going back from here.

You both know it. The tension in your bedroom is so thick you can barely breathe around it.

Umemiya lands gently onto your bed - sitting up as he holds you by your waist and pulls you over to him. You're so aware of his touch it makes your nerves feel they're on fire. You're not a total virgin - at least not enough to be feeling this worked up over someones hands lingering on your waist.

But they're Umemiya's hands—Hajime's hands, so you can't rationalize your thoughts of out it. His hands are strong and big, a little calloused and rough from the gardening and fighting. You can feel how much he adores you in a gesture so small it makes you concerned for your own heart thinking about how the rest of the night will go.

He invites you into his lap gently, so pleased by the way you go to him so willingly. You spread yourself over him with your knees on either side of his thighs. He's big - wide and broad.

Your barely hovering over his bulge as you lean your weight onto him. His hand barely brushes underneath your top, just barely touching the skin.

You shiver.

"Are you really sure this is what you want?" He asks. "I don't mind waiting as long as you need,"

You give him an bored look. "Not very convincing when you're makin' a face like that,"

He chuckles nervously. "That bad?"

You nod before adding a little bashfully. "Dunno if I mind, though."

He buries his fact against your chest all of a sudden making you jump.

"The hell?"

"You're so cute when you're honest like that," He mumbles into your chest, cheek pressed against your tits.

"Jeez, shut up. What're you talking about?"

Umemiya pulls back and leans forward - enough to breach the inches of space between you. Nose to nose, your eyes meet. A bated breath, you put your hand on his shoulders and work up the nerve to kiss him.

It's chaste. Mostly for you to break the ice otherwise you're sure you're gonna pussy out.

He smiles at you when you pull away.

"See what I mean? So cute," He hums, and leans in again. "Come on. Kiss me again."

Something about him is different when he tells you to kiss him. It's not smug or cheeky. But it's not casual either. Softness tinges his words, his touch - his whole demeanor screams like he loves you absolutely. It makes your heart rate pick up again, hands shaky as you try not to lose your nerve.

He's restraining himself though. How he intense he could be vs how soft and calm he is being. You know Umemiya like the back of your hand so you want him to do what he wants. It's hard to find your voice.

"You don't have to.." You cast your eyes down in embarrassment. "…hold back with me, either. I'm not some maiden."

He smiles at you a little. "You really do know me better than anyone, huh? I was keeping it together pretty well."

"Look I know I’m kinda difficult…I'm not real good with stuff like this either," You fidget with the collar of his shirt with your free hand. "But once I say yes I don’t back out. So don't worry about scaring me off or putting too much pressure on me or whatever. ...'s fine to just do what you feel like. I’m scared out of my mind but I wouldn’t do that to you,"

“Don’t know how long it’ll take but I’ll do my best to make you feel secure. Might take some time but we’ve got our whole lives.” You flush at the implication. He smiles a little. "Whatever I want seems like a lot to give, though."

"Well...depending on what, I'm might not be good at it,"

He shakes his head. "I don't want anything like that."

"What do you want then?"

"You." He says easily. Your stomach flips. "All of you. I just want to make you feel so good you can't stand it. Want to worship you top to bottom. There's not a single part of you I don't want."

You flush. "The hell... I meant like a blowjob or some shit."

He laughs. "I know. And I want that too, another time." He hums, taking a deep breath. "Right now I just want you to feel so good for me. Is that okay?"

You can't look at him. You can barely stand how bashful you're being, but you can't even play coy. Something in you is bursting at the seams.

You love him so much you don't recognize yourself, or your voice, or how you're acting. It makes you sick but you can’t do anything but go with it. "Yeah. 's okay, if it's what you want."

"It is," He says, leaning in. "All I've ever wanted."

You ignore the latter half of his comment as he finally goes to kiss you again.

He pulls your body close to him as you do. Until your chest to chest, arms wrapped around the span of his shoulders as you press your lips together soft and slow.

He slides a hand underneath your top, undoing the clasp of your bra. He lets his palm stay on the center of your back while you keep kissing - straps of your bra falling down your shoulder as he splays his fingers to feel more of your skin and hold you. Hugging you close to him, his other arm wraps around your torso. His forearms feels especially strong they way they hold you by the waist.

You're so close to him. Kissing him so deep, his tongue sliding against your lips. Something about the kiss is languid but the touch is so hot it makes your skin burn. You feel wrapped up in him, can't even tell whose heartbeat you're hearing.

More of your weight ends up in his lap as you feel your knees go weak. Something hard presses against your clothed cunt and you gasp a little into his mouth.

"Oh, shit." You mumble in surprise. Umemiya laughs.

"You're making me feel good." He hums.

Your face heats up. "I barely did anything."

"You just being on my lap is more than enough."

You make a face at him before rubbing yourself over the zipper of his jeans, slow and deliberate trying to get a feel for it. You hear him moan, nearly jumping out of your skin in surprise.

The way Umemiya moans is a lot for you to process. Breathy and a little low. It resonates through your whole body like a caress.

You make a few more tentative passes over his bulge, just to hear him do it again. Driven by your instinct more than anything, you lean into kiss at his jaw - making use of the limited experience you do have to try and draw more sounds from him.

"What're you thinking about?" He asks, still breathless. Maybe amused.

"Like the way you sound." You mumble in reply.

"I thought I told you I wanted to take care of you, hm?"

You frown. "So what? I can't touch you at all?"

He thinks on it. "You can touch me everywhere else and you can have your way with me later, if you want it. I don't wanna cum too fast."

"I'm just..."

He shakes his head. "You're underestimating me. I'm still a guy, you know? With a woman I love at that. There's no way I would make it through our first time if I didn't focus on you. Don't pout,"

Hearing him describe you in such an embarrassing way makes you flush. You roll your eyes half-heartedly. "Fine, whatever."

He smiles.

"Good girl. C'mere. Lay down."

You decide not to think about how effected the praise makes you as you comply.

Umemiya lays you down carefully, making sure you're comfortable before hovering over you. He looks a lot more imposing from this view - the dim lights of your room making his face seem more well-defined. Your nipples harden in arousal, peeking from underneath your shirt as he stares long and hard.

"You're so beautiful to me."

He leans down and presses a hot kiss to your jaw, just underneath your ear before slowly kissing down your neck. Open-mouthed kisses along delicate skin, tongue sliding over every patch he scrapes lightly with his teeth. You fidget underneath him, a dull throbbing between your legs. You try to figure out what to do with your hands but you’re too nervous.

He kisses your throat where it's extra sensitive and you bite back and involuntary noise.

"Don't hold your voice, please?"

"It's embarrassing,"

"It's not," He assures, bumping his forehead to your shoulder lightly. "I want to know what makes you feel good. Let me pay attention to you."

You frown but nod ultimately.

Umemiya isn't the first sexual encounter you've had in your life. You've done other things, but you've never really gone all the way with anyone. All of your other partners were mostly strangers - people mutually interested in using someone else to try and get off.

This is the first time anyone has taken this much time with you. A little kissing and groping, sometimes touching your chest.

No one's ever touched you like this, though.

His hands feel like they're all over your body no matter where they actually end up being. Makes your heartbeat rain drumming on a tin roof. Makes your stomach tingle, a heat in your calves and a prickly feeling on your back. Your whole being drowning with pure anticipation.

"Take this off for me." Umemiya mumbles. You nod, feeling absent as you wiggle yourself out of your tight little tee and toss it somewhere.

The air shifts again when you're naked. His eyes drink you in, tracing the soft lines and edges of your body. Looking over scars and stretchmarks with pure, blown out wanting that shoots lust straight into your veins.

You want him to fuck you so bad it's killing you but the very thought makes you feel so shy you could die.

"You're beautiful," Sounds dirty the way he says, makes it spill from his lips like wine tipping over a glasses edge. "Perfect. Every inch of you is so perfect."

He proves this to you by kissing you again. Running his hands over your skin. Up against curved sides and down against your arms, brushing the back of your biceps and forearms.

Infatuation in his touch ruins you. Makes your voice let out. You can't think of anyone whose treated you so preciously in your entire life and you find you don't resent it as much as you should.

(You find it feels so good to let someone touch you so kindly. A touch like you're being loved.)

Nonetheless it's embarrassing. Of course it is.

But it's so hard not to feel pulled in when you feel the way he kisses you. Draws a trail with his lips and tongue from jaw to shoulder blade - kissing down your biceps with his hands on your body, taking gentle inhales of your scent.

Anticipation makes your stomach tie in knots but finally he relents. Both hands squeeze the soft weight of your chest, palms brushing your hardened nipples.

"Fuck."

He laughs a little, heavy with want. "Yeah? Do you like being touched here?"

"Mm." Is the best reply you can get out.

He brushes against the tips with his fingers in a feather-light gesture, testing the waters before rubbing with a little more pressure. Your body jolts from the stimulation, wetness pooling and dampening your underwear. He leans in and takes one of your nipples into his mouth making another dull wave of lust wash through you.

And he makes sure to pay attention to both. It's just like him to be so attentive to some shit like that. Your spine arches as he sucks on your sensitive nipples, letting his tongue flick across them and giving into a sweet friction. You buck your hips up against instinctively, gripping onto the sheets as your sense of restlessness grows.

Your voice is whiny to your own ears but you can't calm down to save your life.

"You're taking too long," You huff. He laughs lightly, looking up at you from underneath his lashes.

"Don't be impatient." He tsks.

"It's enough already,"

He shakes his head. "Nope. Still got a long ways to go. Promise you'll have me when you're ready for it, so just try and focus on feeling good."

You make a frustrated sound. "It's embarrassing being the only one feeling good,"

He pauses before standing up on his knees. He takes his black t-shirt off in one swift go until his torso is bare, and undoes the top button of his pants. He gives you a little glance. "Better?"

There are too many layers of that to process in the moment it happens. You mumble. "A little,"

He beams. "Good. Now let me take good care of you,"

Sliding down lower, he kisses you from sternum to navel. Hands gripping at the softness of your sides, smoothing over the bare skin as he his thumb finds the waistband of your skirt. He glances up at you, silently seeking your permission. You nod back at him, watching him slide the short skirt away from your waist.

The sudden air feels cool against your skin. He presses his cheek against your belly, both hands on your hips..

"You're gorgeous. Even more gorgeous than I thought. I feel so lucky being able to touch you when you're this perfect.” He praises endlessly.

You cover your face with your arm.

"Ugh. Quit it. You're sayin' too much."

"Seeing you get so shy when I praise you a little is so cute." He trails his lips down further and further - just above your sex before stopping. "You're so cute."

He sits back, standing up and bending your legs slightly at the knee. You hold the position as you feel him massage your calve. Thumb drawing hard circles in the muscle, slowly working his way up to your knee. He kisses you afterwards trailing the same spot his hands were touching seconds ago before moving onto the other side.

There's nothing you can call it short of worship. The nagging feeling that it's undeserved is washed away each time Umemiya holds your gaze.

Devotion colors every touch no matter how small. And it’s so obvious, so prominent - it feels outright wrong to deny the fact it’s there.

You think the closest thing you can compare it too is the way Umemiya gardens. A patience as his fingers root through earth and soil, a kindness towards delicate things that makes even hours of work under the sun look beautiful and easy. His expression is what's most uncanny - what makes you you feel so hot.

An expression that says he loves doing it from the very bottom of his heart - not even a hint of apathy or complaint.

A face that says he loves every long, drawn out motion and actions of repetition all fro the very core of him.

Having it directed at making love to you so blatantly makes you more aroused than you know what to do with. You don't know how to let yourself be treated like the most cherished flower in Umemiya's garden - and you aren't so sure how you're meant to get used to it no matter how much it makes you feel...nice. You don’t have any other experience.

Which is why you're trying to be patient. Trying to be at least temporarily secure in whatever he sees in you that makes him worship every inch of you, memorizing all your ins and outs.

Umemiya places hot, wet kisses on your inner thigh before laying himself between your spread legs - breath barely hovering over your sex.

By the time he gets there, you feel utterly melted into your sheets. Your mind is hazy, impatient and wanting as strong hands secure your thighs. He's so close.

"I wanna eat you out. Is that okay?"

"If you don't do something soon I'm gonna kill you."

He laughs warmly. "I'll take that as a yes."

You pause. Umemiya waits.

"I didn't uh," You clear your throat. "Wasn't planning on getting laid so y'know. Haven't shaved in a while."

"Were you worried that I'd change my mind? I like it for the record. Feels natural." Umemiya says. "It's your body so there's nothing I would dislike about it."

"You're too much." You reply back in earnest. You cover your face with your arms. "So cheesy."

"I'm being serious." He says suddenly solemn with how sincere he is.

The sudden change is amusing. You pause before breaking into genuine giggles, unable to help yourself.

"You're really somethin', yknow that?"

He's quiet for a long time. Long enough for it to catch your attention, turning your gaze more clearly towards his face. Swiftly, he pushes himself up to catch your mouth in another kiss. It stuns you a bit, very different to all the rest. More teeth and tongue than lip.

"I like you," He murmurs, forehead to yours. "How can someone be so cute?"

"Would you quit embarrassing me and get on with it?"

He smiles. "As you wish,"

Umemiya settles back down between your legs after easing your panties off and putting your feet flat on the bed to give himself more access. You can barely look down at him doing it. His fingers brush the slick hairs back gentle as he uses his thumbs to spread your pussy apart and look at you more intimately.

You can feel him. Feel his every breath and movement. He stares at you awestruck. "How is all of you so pretty? Even here it's such a beautiful color."

"Stop looking so much,"

He takes a breath, taking in your scent one more time before pressing a kiss to your clit. You make an attempt to squirm away from his grip as his finger dig into your thighs and hold you down. The strength of it knocks the wind out of you, forcing you into place. Umemiya pushes his tongue and gives you a long, tentative lick through the seam of your cunt.

Your whole body breaks out into shivers at the sensation. The warm weight of his tongue on your sex makes feels like an electric current through water - your toes curling as he makes the same few passes over and over. He collects your pooling arousal on the tip as he drags upwards and flicks your clit tentatively. You grind against his face instinctually, hips chasing the pleasure. Amused laughter vibrates against your core as you do, mumbling at you to be patient while he's still face deep in it.

You let out another pitchy whine before he finally stops teasing. He lays his tongue flat against your clit, cupping it lightly before drawing it around experimentally. He watches carefully as he plays around with pressure and angles - trying to see what makes you react the most. You can feel how closely he's watching you.

You cover your mouth with your hand when he does find it, your voice breaking off as he licks carefully right where you need. He smiles into your cunt as he toys with your with the sensitive bundle of nerves, pleased by the change in your reactions. The obvious pleasure he's making you feel.

Something blooms into your chest. You've never—

"You're—" You close your eyes, hands tangling in the sheets as you break out into a fever. "Ngh, never had someone l-lick me,"

He must've heard you because he seems to laser in his focus the minute you say it. He's lapping at your clit so deep, licking precisely and holding you with nose against your bush.

You reach down tentatively, pushing back the hair falling in his face and he gives you a look so lovesick you want to run away. The pressure changes gradually, more intensely.

It feels better somehow. Makes you feel restless. Your whole body curls in tight with want at the sensation of it, the lower expanse of your belly tensed. You're shaking as you drift closer to the edge, arousal upped by the wet sound of him sucking your clit.

"Hajime," You warn, spine starting to arch as you helplessly try to pull away from the intense sensation. It's not familiar to your body, so much so your mind can barely make sense of what's happening to it, "Cumming—c-cumming!"

Something in you goes undone as Umemiya keeps pace during your orgasm. All the tension inside of you suddenly comes loose - specks of white matter behind closed lids as you screw your eyes shut. Your back curves up into arch, your hips trembling, your insides pulsing. It comes running into you, crashing into your body as waves of pleasure drown out the noise in your head. He eats you out until you feel borderline hysterical.

You feel melted and reshaped by him - yanking him off when he continues to be insistent after you're too oversensitive. He laughs when you pull him away, resting against your thigh as you take worn out heaving breaths.

He kisses the inside of your knee as you calm down, bright smile on his features - painted pink with a slight flush. "You came. I'm so happy."

You look at him in shock. "You're a scary guy."

He pushes up to kiss your temple, voice soft. "Did I scare you?"

Your stomach flutters, tucking your chin. "You were intense, but I didn't... hate it or anything."

"Yeah?" He grins, pressing a few kisses to your cheek and face before whispering against your ear. "Then, is it okay to go farther?"

You nod silently. Umemiya smiles.

He stands up on his knees, pushing his hair back as your eyes are drawn to his pants. You reach out for the waistband of his pants unthinkingly, hooking your finger into it. "Isn't it stuffy?"

He blinks, frozen before rubbing a hand across his face. "Ah a bit, but it's fine."

"Take 'em off. Please?"

Umemiya looks unusually distressed by the request, but follows through without another word. You watch him undress - revealing the tight black fabric of his boxer briefs snug against his waist. Your eyes go wide as you see the outline of his cock - head still half hazy. You voice your unfiltered reaction.

"Your dick is so big,"

He laughs breathlessly. "Are you trying to stir me up? What's with you?" He pauses to lay down besides you. You turn to lay on your side and face him a little better. "You're being cute. I'm not used to seeing you so docile."

"Shaddup," You reply half-heartedly. Your body is still on fire but it knocked the wind of you to cum once already. "Your fault."

He grins, a hint of smugness as he laughs. "That's true."

"You gonna fuck me?"

"Mm, yeah. Gotta open you up first or it'll hurt."

"I've put stuff in before. Toys. Should be fine."

"Still wanna play it safe. It's your precious first time after all."

You make a face before pulling him into you, hugging him tight as your whole body breaks out in a shameful flush. "Then hurry up and do it already."

His arms slide underneath where your laying, holding you to him as he hikes one of your legs up. He slides his free hand in over your leg - his forearm holding your thigh. You press your face to his neck and shoulder - hiding your expression. "Guess I should huh? You were always impatient,"

You can barely tell him to shut up, the way your body waits for it. A warbled little noise leaves your mouth as he slides his middle finger through the sticky folds of your cunt - careful as it catches on your hole. Wet and so aroused, the first finger he puts in goes in completely smoothly with no real effort

Umemiya speaks low and soft as he holds you. "I don't know if I can get used to seeing you like this. I'm glad no one else but me ever wil You’re really all I think about lately," He catches the lobe of your ear between his teeth gently. Your head spins. "People misunderstand you because you're prickly, you know? For a long time, only I knew what it felt like to be liked by you. I liked that,"

"Why are you—mmgh,"

He slides another finger in carefully after the first one slides inside of you with no resistance. His voice is so hot against your skin, the low bass of it in your skull as he speaks so close to your ear.

"Don't get me wrong I'm happy seeing you with so many people surrounding you. But I was a little sad too. And it kept getting worse over the years until I couldn’t ignore it. I couldn’t figure out why for a long time and then it clicked,” Umemiya explains. You realize half way delirious this is his real confession. God, you’re gonna kill him. “Suddenly it was all I thought about. I wanted to be special to you. I wanted to monopolize you. It was my first time having thoughts like that,”

Another finger slides into you easily. Umemiyas fingers are so much bigger than yours. Thicker than they are long. The stretch is enough to make you gasp.

“Hajime—“

He curls them up, careful until he finds the spot he’s looking for. Your body reacts, another sensation of pressure as his middle finger rubs tenderly against your gspot. You weakly try to wiggle away as he holds you firm.

“I felt a little guilty, too. You’re my very best friend. You’re independent and diligent. Tough. But you know, when I saw you for those few months - all I could think about was how much I wanted to spoil you,” He whispers. Something in your body shifts the way touches you. Pushes in further and further - stretching until it’s easy for him to be inside. “Somehow everything I liked about you became so cute I couldn’t stand it. I couldn’t help but want to dote on you over every little thing even though I knew better than anyone you didn’t need something like that.”

Your eyes well up but not necessarily from emotion. Totally overwhelmed. You don’t feel like you’re gonna cum but there’s something else that’s waiting and each time he thrusts his fingers into you it comes a little closer. Your voice is shaking.

“It—fuck, quit talking. Somethings gonna—“

His smile grows a little. It’s the first time it looks so hungry.

“I was happy in general when I realized you liked me too. Even when you were being stubborn, I liked the way you couldn’t turn me away. I liked how happy you looked talking to me as usual as if that alone was something so precious,” He hums, so focused and precise as he stretches you open on a third finger but never once losing his train of thought. Like saying all of these comes to him so easily it doesn’t matter. “I didn’t want to corner you. But it felt like I couldn’t rest until you were mine completely. Which is why I’m being so unfair to you. Why I’m so persistent. ”

Your voice breaks on a whine. “It’s gonna come out—“

“You make a pretty face when your heads filled with nothing but me. I don’t think it’s bad to wanna stay that way,” He hums, almost conversational as he presses a kiss to your skin. “Go on. Let go,”

Something hot sprays between your legs as Umemiya fucks you open on all three of his fingers.

A rush of warm liquid squirts onto your sheets as your legs shake wearily. Umemiya marvels at the mess. Your hands curl into fists, nails digging in your palms as he finally pulls them out - leaving you stretched, almost gaping.

You lay limp in soaked sheets as you pull away from Umemiya with a very weak glare.

He’s smiling at you, dopey and lovesick.

“Too much?”

Angrily, you smack at his bare chest over and over, trying to recover your pride.

“You’re insane. What’s,” You swallow thickly. “What’s with you.”

He shrugs. Wordless, he flips you onto your back again before hovering over top of you. Pressing his forehead to yours, he brushes your noses together and plants a tentative peck on your lips as if trying to gauge whether or not you’re upset. He melts when you kiss him back, smiling happily.

“Were you like this with your other girlfriends? No wonder they broke up with you,”

He laughs. “Mm, no? I was more of a gentleman.”

You break out into another exhausted fit of laughter.

“Pfft, yeah? Guess I’m pretty special,”

“Yeah. You are.” He kisses you again. “Wanna keep going or are you too tired? I don’t mind if we sleep.”

“Stupid. I said it already didn’t I? Hurry up and fuck me.”

“Okay, okay. Let me go get the condom from my wallet,”

You wrap your legs around his waist and stare up at him plainly as he tries to move, keeping him pinned in place. You’re frowning, brows furrowed with a hard glare. He stares at you.

“Did you want something else? Water?”

“Want you to fuck me,” You restate, arms reaching up to circle around his neck. “Just do it already.”

He pulls back to look at you seriously.

“Do you know what you’re asking?”

You flush. “Of course I do. Stupid. Are you trying to get me to say it out loud?”

“I might think I’m deluding myself otherwise.”

You sigh, looking at him flatly as you try to tamp down the part of you that’s screaming to be more tactful.

“Don’t bother with the condom, a-alright? Or pulling out,”

He looks like he’s experiencing the shock of his life. “But…”

“Stop being dumb or I’m never gonna have sex with you again.”

He nods suddenly solemn. “Fine. But,”

You give him another look that silences him. He sighs again, getting the message before kissing your cheek and pull back to sit up on his knees between your legs. Pulling his briefs down, his cock springs free. It looks a lot bigger than you saw underneath the fabric, weighed down from it’s own weight even though it stands up stiff. He opened you up with three but you wonder if it’ll be enough not to stretch you open.

You reach your hand out to touch it tentatively, feeling it’s weight and heft. He clears his throat but seems content to let you. The palms of your hands cup the shaft, feeling all the veins pulse. The tip is sticky with precum. You pull your hand away, another sudden wave of self consciousness overwhelming you.

Umemiya hovers over you again, placing he length of his cock against your pussy. You shift a little feeling it slide against you, hard and hot.

“Gonna put it in now, okay?”

Nodding, you put your legs up. You take a deep breath when the head pushes in, letting out an involuntary noise. You feel well-stretched but the thickness of his cock is still enough to make you feel it in your legs. Umemiya is focused above you, barely sliding the tip through your folds as you open up around him. The air feels punched out of your lungs on just the first inch.

His face is strained is he holds his hips steady, leaning down to tap your foreheads together. “Feeling okay?”

“Mm,” You nod, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Fine. Feels different.”

“Different?”

“Yours is bigger than all the stuff I own,” You explain. “Feels hotter. Harder, too.”

You feel his cock twitch inside of you suddenly, shocking you. He smiles sheepishly.

“Gonna push in a little more, okay?”

You nod, watching as Umemiya so slowly presses his cock into you further. Enough that it doesn’t hurt when you take him, as much as it just feels like something is inside of you. You feel a warm sense of satisfaction at how full you feel. You feel like him like he’s in your stomach, taking up so much space. After a while of pushing, stopping, and going again - he finally bottoms out.

“You feel incredible,” He murmurs, half-smile on his face. Your stomach flutters. “It’s hard not to cum right away. Feels so good inside of you. I love you.”

You feel yourself twitch, frowning at the expression of delight Umemiya has. You put your hand against his fact to keep him away but he kisses your palm and moves it. Bottomed out, he grasps both hands and holds them - pinning them to the bed as you watch him wide-eyed.

“Think you’re used to it?” He hums, clasping your fingers together. “Is it okay if I move?”

You feel so damn bashful. “It’s okay.”

He kisses your forehead. “I’ll go slow.”

As promised, Umemiya pulls out carefully before pushing back into you. You’re so wet that it slides in without any real friction. It takes a few thrusts of him going slowly for your body to get adjusted to the sensation. After a few motions, though - it starts to feel different.

Starts to feel good. Really, really good.

“Oh,” Your eyes flutter open. “Shit. You c-can go faster.”

“Yeah?”

You nod, trying not to seem too eager.

When Umemiya picks up pace, you feel your the whole lower half of your body weaken all over again. Something in your legs, your spine go soft against the bed underneath, a sudden unusual arousal swelling. Somewhere in deeper as he cocks thrusts against your gspot, knocking against it with more force than before. The change in pace coupled with the visual of Umemiya over you, face drawn together in focus as he fucks you is too much. Split open on his cock, you can hear how wet you are each time he moves.

“Feels…” Your words come up empty. “’s so much.”

“Yeah? Is it too much for you, baby?”

You shake your head as your thoughts get increasingly cloudy. It’s like there’s nothing else your body can focus on. The way his cock drags against your sensitive, silken walls. The feeling of being full to empty and then full all over again. The way your pussy gets so much wetter each time he moves, sloppy and sucking him in so tight. You can feel your body want for him.

Umemiya lets go of your hands, sliding one between your bodies. Palm resting on your sex, he lets his brush against your clit. The difference it makes is significant, makes your eyes go wide. He smiles a little, hair falling in his face as he pushes it up with his free hand.

“That’s it,” He hums, contented to keep at it like this. “Feels good, right? Your holding onto me so tightly it’s hard for me to pull out even though you’re so wet.”

You make a whiny noise and wonder if other peoples first times feel this good or if you’re just outrageously lucky. You decide on the latter he fucks you faster and matches his thrusts with the movement of his fingers. You’re warm all over - skin scorching as your hands find his biceps and shoulders to cling onto.

Your voice is so whiny when you call out for him “You’re so deep, ngh.”

He laughs, deep and raspy. “Yeah? Tell me what you’re feeling,”

“It feels good when you’re in me.” You reply drunkenly. “Want it faster. Please,”

He complies with your request almost immediately. You cry out loud, physically incapable of holding the sound in as he gets to fucking you faster and harder. Your pussy is throbbing. Senselessly horny, you pull Umemiya closer to you as he fucks you and smash your lips together. You feel so good, so thoroughly fucked and completely out of it. He’s in you but you want him even closer, want the scent of his skin to mark you.

A second time your body builds up to that familiar feeling but it’s so much farther inside. An orgasm pulled right from your core. Stomach tied in knots as Umemiya fucks you hard, you wrap your legs around his waist and take him.

“That’s it. You’re so good. Cum on my cock, sweet girl. Let me feel it” He murmurs against your skin, holding you close. “You’re making me feel so good. So cute. Go ahead, it’s okay. Let me see how good I’m making you feel.”

Pliant to his request, you hold onto Umemiya for dear life as your body gives into second orgasm. Your nails dig into his biceps as the built up arousal gives way pleasure - and you cum hard with his cock sheathed all the way inside of you. All the wind gets stolen from your lungs as you press forward with another kiss, your whole body trembling violently as you let go.

Umemiya sweet talks you through without letting go once, only stopping to take a pause when you’ve fully ridden out your high.

You stare up at him in a daze as he takes a breather to kiss you, still hard as he’s bottomed out inside of you.

“You gonna cum soon?”

“Mm,” He nods. “Yeah I’m close. If I move, I will.”

“’s okay to cum in me,”

Umemiya laughs warmly. “I’m already about too. You’re not helping,”

You smile a bit as you hug him close to you and tell him again that it’s fine. Before long, he holds you too, whispering the same three words into your neck as he finally lets it out. It’s a weird feeling, thick white ropes of seed spilling into the deepest parts of you.

You don’t really hate it, though.

“I love you,” Umemiya repeats. Tired you don’t try to fight yourself.

“Love you too,”

The next morning, you’re stirred away by the sound of your front door unlocking and the sound of Kotoha’s voice echoing through your apartment.

You’re still half-way asleep, so it barely dawns on you that anything is off. Not cognizant enough to think twice, your body tries to go back to sleep.

Or it does until you hear a very loud shout coming from your kitchen that wakes you up with a start.

“No fucking way,”

You sit up suddenly, hearing faint conversation before the sound of steps barreling towards your door. You just barely manage to pull the sheets up over your chest before she comes storming through the door of your bedroom.

You watch her eyes scan your entire room, mentally collecting data before she finally lands on you. As your brain starts to load back in, your eyes go wide with horror at the look of pure scandal on her face.

Fuck. You were supposed to be having dinner with her and Tsubaki tonight. Usually you confirm with them in the mornings since your up. It’s not uncommon for her to drop in when you don’t reply to check in since you live close by.

Fuck.

“You—Oh, I have to text Tsubaki-chan, I can’t believe—“

Before she gets to finish her sentence, Umemiya appears behind her in your door way. The sight of him only adds fuel to the flame of your embarrassment. You went another round or two before bed last night and it looks like it too. Shirtless in sweats he left over a while ago, his biceps are covered in scratch and with a few hickies, he’s wearing his hair down with a cup of tea and a very apologetic smile.

You cover your face with your hands unsure of how to deal with the feeling of pure mortification.

Kotoha snaps a picture of your room that causes even more distress.

“If you don’t delete that right now, I’m gonna kill us both.”

“In your dreams.”

Umemiya laughs warmly. “Please don’t kill each other.”

He slides past Kotoha coming over to you. Bending down to kiss your forehead, he pulls the blanket up over you so you’re more well-covered. You give him an incredulous but Umemiya is unfazed - smiling as bright as ever.

“Good morning,”

“I can’t believe my eyes,” Kotoha says. She points at Umemiya. “You, go put on a shirt.”

“Fine, fine. Stay for breakfast,” Umemiya says with a smile. “It’ll be nice having it with my two favorite people.”

You make another face as Umemiya gives you a long, affectionate look before disappearing. She sighs as she looks at you, pinching the bridge of her nose.

“I would ask if you’re gonna meet us for dinner but you don’t have a choice anymore so show up at seven. I’m gonna leave before that tactless idiot comes back. We’ll talk later.”

You nod in understanding. She turns to leave but then turns back with a genuine smile.

“And, well - congrats. He’s a tactless idiot but he does love you or whatever. Cherish each other,”

You flush, nodding your head. “Yeah…thanks.”

With that Kotoha leaves quickly. Umemiya returns still shirtless, pouting a little when he notices she’s gone.

“She left already?”

“Of course she did. I can’t believe you would invite her for breakfast.”

Umemiya shrugs. “No point being coy about it. I thought it’d be nice. I was looking for a shirt but I guess I don’t need one now,” He sits besides you on the bed, turning to face with a goofy smile. “Anyways, good morning.”

“You already said that.”

“You didn’t say it back,”

You frown. “G’morning,”

He smiles suddenly before grabbing you from underneath the blankets and sheets - pulling your naked body ontop of him as he grins. Sunlight pours through the window as he holds you to his chest, kissing the crown of your head before pressing his cheek into your hair.

“Mm, yeah. It’s a really good morning after all.”

“You’re stupid.”

“And you love me,”

You fail trying not to smile. Damn him. You're so happy it hurts. You roll your eyes.

“I guess so.”

#windbreaker x reader #umemiya x reader #windbreaker smut #umemiya smut #writing tag #umemiya hajime x reader #umemiya hajime smut #bro #im sorry if there are still typos i edited this so much

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