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blkkizzat · 3 months ago

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🗂️—𝙲𝙰𝚂𝙴 𝟶𝟶𝟷........... THE STRONGEST ......filed under the that's not my jjk man series

visitor log: its midday and your clingy-ass boyfriend—gojo satoru—should be hard at work right getting rid of these doppels not knocking at your door—gotta be a fake... right?! classifications: bimbo!reader (canonverse of otaku!gojo's bunny!reader), yandere-esque Gojo, nipple play, recorded sex, lots of sex toys, dirty talk, panty theft, extreme overstim + slight omorashi. incidents: 4.4k .......shout outs to @yung-notorious for beta-ing some of this!

*knock-knock-knock-knock-knock*

Rapid, insistent knocks interrupt your laughter as you chat with friends, carefully brushing a fresh coat of polish onto your toes. You weren’t expecting anyone, but the familiar, overly enthusiastic rhythm—knocking out the tune of Rick Astley’s "Never Gonna Give You Up"—leaves no doubt who it is.

Satoru.

You sigh.

Although you haven’t seen Gojo much lately and are usually happy to see him, his timing this time irritates you for a couple reasons—first, of course he’d interrupt right in the middle of your much-needed girl time! You were desperate to hang with your friends again, especially after being stuck in lockdown for the last 2 weeks.

There was some juicy tea getting spilled on the call too!

More importantly, you weren't in a hurry to get up from the sofa—especially with your freshly painted white toes you’d propped up on the coffee table to dry. The last thing you wanted was to ruin them by getting dust on them while answering the door when Gojo wasn’t even supposed to be here right now.

“BBL, y’all.”

Reluctantly ending the call, you switched over to your Ring camera app.

Sure enough, the security feed loads to reveal Gojo, grinning up at the camera with his glasses perched on the brim of his nose and a large pink shopping bag in hand.

Huh? There’s no way he’s off-work already!

Taking note of the time it reads 1:30 p.m. confirming that Jujutsu society’s strongest sorcerer is skipping out on work, again—pshh typical.

“C’mon babe, let me in!”

Urgh, what was he even doing here?!

Shouldn’t he be the one leading the charge to kill all the doppelgängers? The faster he exorcized them, the sooner you’d finally be able to go outside again.

This doppelgänger outbreak felt like covid quarantine all over and it sucked!

Satoru needed to get his ass back to work so you wouldn’t waste the best years of your life cooped up inside!

“Go away, doppelgänger!”

You use the intercom feature to speak to Gojo, still not budging from the sofa.

Gojo pouts.

“But it's me, baby! Open the door Bunny bae, please I missed you princess—it’s been too long!”

Satoru’s annoyingly pretty baby blues look even bigger as he pleads into the camera, his lip quivering, making you roll your eyes.

It’s barely been 48 hrs since you’ve last seen him and he still blows up your texts all day!

But the world’s strongest sorcerer was also the world’s clingiest—so you suppose his doppelgänger would be too. Although, you were pretty sure this was the real deal, that still didn’t mean you wouldn’t give him shit for skipping out on work.

“Huh, that’s funny because there's no way you could be my boyfriend, Gojo Satoru, the strongest—and the one who is supposed to be making sure I’m not stuck in the house for another 2 years. It’s been freaking 2 weeks already Toru, I’m going batshit in here!”

Pushing his glasses back in place Gojo hides his scoff, standing up straight.

Shit.

He hopes you aren’t onto him.

Sure, he could have contained this whole thing in a few days tops.

Despite the doppelgänger ability to mimic appearances and cursed energy patterns, Gojo’s Six Eyes could see right through it easily. His power allowed him to perceive the core of a soul with perfect clarity, instantly distinguishing the souls of a human and a curse.

But instead of resolving the problem quickly, Gojo made up all kinds of excuses to you (and especially to the higher-ups) about why it was taking longer than expected.

The truth was, simple though—for once, just this once, he decided he had earned the right to be selfish.

Not having met you until after the covid quarantine, Gojo had never experienced that kind of isolation with you—and was immensely jealous that your last boyfriend had. Now that he had a taste of it, there was nothing he wanted more than to keep his lil bun-bun safely caged up, waiting for his return everyday (and he did try to make it back everyday).

Okay, so he is in fact being really selfish.

Luckily for everyone else though, most of these doppelgänger curses are relatively harmless other than causing absolute chaos with their mere existence alone—unfortunately they could also be seen by people even lacking cursed energy.

Gojo took care of the stronger ones, the ones with more nefarious intentions, while letting the little ones continue to run loose—all so he could have you to himself.

Unbeknownst to you, Gojo is intentionally sentencing you to what seems like a never ending cycle of boredom so that when he finally gets home you cling to him like a grain of sweet sticky rice. So eager for any external stimuli or interaction you’d be up for all manner of his perversions you’d normally shoot him down for.

That didn’t mean you weren’t still a brat though, making him work for it—something that Gojo also noted was his fault though for spoiling you rotten, not being able to deny you anything. So you pretend to be annoyed when he showed up, but Gojo knew the truth—those thick thighs of yours would soon have your slick running down. Your cute, slutty lil pussy dripping would start dripping the moment you’d hear his voice.

Yeah, yeah, he’d get rid of those things eventually—but Gojo was going to enjoy this quarantine with you for a bit longer.

“Even the strongest need a break baby! I need my sweet lil’ energizer Bunny to recharge my batteries, eh?”

You crinkle up your nose seeing him wiggle his eyebrows on camera.

He's such a dorky cornball.

“And this break…it’s approved by Yaga, hm?” Gojo whines at your questioning, not wanting you to deny him any longer nor throw technicalities in his face he didn’t wanna have to answer.

“Come on, Bunny! I even brought you real nice gifts to show you how much I missed you!”

The hot pink shopping bag sways in front of the camera, Gojo dangling it as if it were supposed to be a tempting treat.

But he’d have to do better than some generic pink shopping bag to impress you!

You’ve gone back to your toenails, starting to apply the top coat while you let him squirm out there for a while longer. You knew he could break the barrier in the blink of an eye but you also knew that he was a big enough baby to want you to let him in on your own.

Well tough luck brah.

“That sure doesn’t look like a Chanel shopping bag, Toru!”

“Um, that’s cause it’s not—Bunny you told me you don’t even like me picking you out clothes anymore!”

You clicked your tongue and rolled your eyes—of course you said that as whenever Gojo picked something out for you, it ended up being the most scandalous or over-the-top piece in the store. How he would even managed that at a classy brand like Chanel, you had no idea. (Though, little do you know, in reality, he always acted they were ready-to-wear while they were custom-made—just for you.)

“I got us some toys, baby bun! Don’t you wanna play with me?”

You don’t need to ask him ‘what kind of toys’ from the goofy ass expression that is on his face.

“That’s not making me want to let you in at all, Doru!”

“Hah? Wha—Doru!?”

“Yeah, short for Dopple-Toru.”

You try to keep a straight face but can’t help giggling as you sneak a peek at your phone, still putting on as if you're completely ignoring him. His expression on the camera is priceless though and you wish you could snap a screenshot of his mouth wide open, glasses nearly sliding off, looking utterly incredulous.

“Hey! Come on, Bunny bae, that's not funny! I know you know it’s me—and I also know your pretty pussy misses me!”

Oh knew, it was your perv ass boyfriend and yeah you did miss him—but you missed your freedom more! And for that reason you are gonna make him think twice before trying to skip out on work again. Not to mention, for having the nerve to show up once you finally found something interesting to stave away your boredom other than him!

“Hmm, I don’t know—prove it then, Doru…”

While Gojo loves goading you into playing games and usually lets you win them too, after nearly 48 ‘grueling hours’ away from you, all he wants now is to simply relax in your company. Ya know, nothing too crazy, just the typical cuddles with him calmly resting his face on your titties while his cock nestles deep up against your cervix—just something casual.

Gojo calling your bluff, ups the ante.

“Heh, kay…”

You’re actually not paying attention this time, admiring your work on your toes and contemplating on the color you should paint your fingernails as Gojo goes silent for a moment.

Yet once you hear a loud zip, the rustling of fabric, and a belt clank to the ground your eyes practically bulge out of your head as you grab your phone, bringing it comically close to your face while blinking multiple times just to be sure.

Satoru quite literally has dick and balls out, dangling in the breeze, in front of the entire goddamn neighborhood!

And despite your initial horror and best efforts to remain upset, you pause, your inner slut causing a slight brain malfunction—as even from the small ring camera you can see his deliciously thick cock bobbing fully erect while his mushroomy tip shamelessly drips viscous globs of pre onto your welcome mat.

Thankfully your short-circuiting of common sense only lasts a few seconds before it starts functioning again.

“TORU HAVE YOU LOST YOUR FUCKING SUGAR-FUELED MIND!? YOU KNOW THE HOA IS ONE MORE INCIDENT AWAY FROM KICKING ME OUT, RIGHT!?”

Sighing, you groan in dismay as you’ve been on thin ice with your HOA for a while now because of Gojo.

Not only have you received the most noise complaints in the neighborhood by far, but he also made ‘alterations’ to your home by installing unsanctioned rows of cypress trees. Claiming it was a safety precaution to block the view inside your home from your ‘sketchy neighbors.’ He also ever so obnoxiously takes up 2 parking spots on the street so no one could even “park too close to scratch his Benz” and even sometimes double parked in front of your neighbors house when all the street parking was taken.

You would most definitely be kicked out if anyone in the neighborhood saw all of Gojo’s fairly large bits and pieces freely on display.

And yeah, Gojo did know that.

He also knew if you got kicked out and had to move you’d have no excuse then not to move-in with him.

Where else would you be able to stay on such short notice? He soon turn that temporary situation into a more permanent one too.

Finally leaping to your feet, you practically trip over yourself—all thoughts of preserving your polish forgotten—as you sprint to the front door.

You can’t get there fast enough, yet as soon as you do, you don't hesitate to lower the barrier and fling the door open.

“Hey sweetn—”

Cutting him off, you grab Gojo by his collar and yank him inside before slamming the door shut behind you.

But you don’t get a chance to scold him. The moment you turn to face him, your lips suddenly meet his, and his large frame envelops yours into a warm embrace.

Your first instinct is to push him away, but even when meeting your furious eyes he just grins knowingly—twirling his pointer finger in the air above him. You frown, confused, until it hits you—Gojo has set up another barrier over your own.

No one could have seen him, but he’d let you believe that so you’d let him in faster.

Urgh, Toru is far too crafty for his own damned good.

It's your turn to pout now, having clearly lost this round badly.

But Gojo doesn’t let the expression linger—his mouth is hot and hungry on yours again in an instant. Your soft lips are easily parted by his thumb as he slows to tease his way past your lips to glide his silken tongue into your mouth causing him to sigh—you taste sweeter than any candy to him.

The kiss soon turns more passionate as the strokes of his tongue flick longingly over yours, devouring you as he skillfully melts away your anger—in addition to all the bones in your legs. Reduced to a puddle of goo you completely forget you were just about to cuss him out as your legs now press together from the throbbing between your thighs. Your need becoming more agonizing as you grow dizzy from the lack of air.

When Gojo finally lets you breathe again, he chuckles at your dazed expression. Your lids are lowered and you press your body deeper into his own, clutching onto his collar as you nestle your face into his neck, savoring his scent washing over you.

“So despite all that sass, I take it you actually missed me then?”

You nod eagerly against his skin, in spite of yourself. Even though he isn’t supposed to be here right now, you can’t hold back any longer how happy you are to see him.

“And my pretty Bunny girl is going to let me play with her now?—All of her?”

You gasp as Gojo does not wait for an answer before slipping a hand into your shorts. Hissing at your heat, Gojo swipes his thumb over the outer folds of your cunt and his fingers quickly are becoming soaked before they even got the chance to get up inside you.

Placing a chaste kiss on your temple Gojo's agile fingers had merely confirmed what he already knew: You’re utterly drenched—his needy, cute lil’ pussy was quite literally begging for him and who was he to deny her?

ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩ᡣ𐭩

“F—Fuck! P-pussy too good. Keep the phone up though, nice and straight Bunny! T-That’s it, you’re the best! SHIIIIT— n��you got the cutest sluttiest lil cunny! C-Can you get a close up of how well my cock is digging out your pretty lil’ bunny hole?”

“Mmmgh!”

Gojo’s filthy words and his even filthier fat cock are bringing you closer to your ecstasy filled ruin as they push you past your limits, engorged veins scraping your walls with every thrust. You're covered in sweat and your entire body buzzes—quite literally as there are vibrating clamps suctioned onto each of your nipples.

Mmmm, it all was driving you wild!

Not imagining yourself in this position when you woke up this morning at all.

Especially as initially, when Gojo said he bought toys, you thought he had meant fuzzy handcuffs, silken ropes or maybe even some more of that warm edible candle wax that tastes like strawberries—but all this!?

You could barely see out of your bleary, tear-filled eyes completely caking your cheeks in streaks of your mascara that while supposedly waterproof, definitely is not Gojo Satoru proof.

In addition to the mind-numbing bliss radiating off your swollen perky buds, your body was covered in some sort of edible oily slick. The warmth was initially similar to that of candle wax—yet morphed into anything but. This time the heat was coming from the flames your own body generated as the effects of the candied warming oil made every part of you saturated in the fluid buzz with need.

Of course, after soaking your body with it down the tips of your toes and paying extra attention to your nipples, Gojo had been thoughtful enough to pour the most of the remaining bottle over your throbbing lil’ clit.

Except now there isn’t just a shallow throb between your legs as the fiery sensation of every individual nerve in your cunt was cries out for him to ruin you harder.

Your legs are wrapped around him impossibly tight as your heels dig into the small of his back and yet somehow, he still manages to snake a hand between your slippery bodies to pet his favorite girly spot on you—your clit. Toying with the swollen nub in a painfully slow manner compared to the intensified thrashing of his hips against your own.

The motions only serve to push the heart-shaped platinum and pink sapphire adorned butt plug deeper into your ass with every loud vulgar smack of your wet bodies joining—the strange feeling of it jostling against the very walls his cock was drilling has you drooling as Gojo further tests the limits of passion he can push over.

“C’mon Bunny, you're going to miss the best part, ya better capture it really well how much squirt I can pump out of this cute cunny—or we’ll simply just have to do another take. Not that I’d mind spending all day in your pussy…”

You're not in your right mind to scold him for trying to skip out on more work and you certainly don't have the full capacities to hold his phone up any better—what with your hands were tied together over your head to the bed. Gojo utilizing the fuzzy cuffs afterall.

You can’t even really see if you are getting the right angle as you desperately hold onto the device, keeping it straight and upright lest it slip and drop right on your head.

“Always such a good girl for me huh, princess?”

Tuh—like he was giving you a choice!

You're unable to clap back though as your tongue, so lax from all the pleasure, sinks back to the roof of your mouth. The slobber gathered pools past your lips, over your chin, down your neck to your tits and Gojo is eager to slurp the train up your body and back to your lips, kissing you.

It goes without saying, but Gojo in ‘director’ mode is absolutely diabolical.

The reason being needs the perfect footage of him playing in your guts to make sure he had good enough material to fap to if you wanted him to spend more time away from you while he hunted down the doppel-curses.

“Be good for me a bit longer, ‘kay baby?”

Yet his gentle coos don’t match his demeanor.

Glasses long discarded, Gojo’s own blue eyes looked crazed. He’s unconcerned with the sweat matting his hair to the sides of his face or the wave of slick your pussy splashes onto his taut abs. Abs are shuddering from just how tight of a hold your pussy has on him—working him overtime as his heavy pants soon twist into deranged lil whines.

“M-Me and my lil’ buddy missed our two girls so, so, s-sooo much—AH-HAH-F-FAHHHCK! G-Gotta show ya just how much!”

Shamelessly, Gojo had dubbed his cock—his little buddy—the joke that would have emasculated some men but Gojo made it intentionally with the irony that he was anything but little.

“T-They were made for each other baby—lil’ buddy and the wet pretty girl between these thighs, yeah?”

The ham that he is, Gojo always sounds extra insane whenever a camera is recording, howling with amusement when he watches the playbacks. Yet in this very moment, he was as serious as a heart attack—and you definitely weren't laughing as your weeping pussy gets pounded into deeper into ecstasy filled oblivion.

“Shhh—Stawwp, S’toruuuuu!”

Tsk, you still could form a coherent thought?

That simply wouldn’t do for Gojo who is working so hard and bought all these new toys to see you come completely undone—and he needed you too soon as he wouldn’t last much longer in your squishy gooey core himself—not how your cunt was holding him in the wettest sluttiest lil hug.

There's still one item left that he hadn't used yet though, that in trying to keep up his sleeve he'd nearly forgotten about entirely—his own brain quickly leaving itself on simmer by your greedy lil’ pussy sucking him in so sloppy.

Slightly changing your position for more leverage, he throws one of your legs on his shoulder slotting himself between your cushy thighs while he straddles the other leg. Fucking you sideways with increasing intensity from the bruising grip on your hips pulling your pelvis towards on him as he meets your thrusts smacking directly into your cervix.

“Heh, I know what will finish you off! Ya ready to cum baby? Squirt all on this dick you love so much, eh Bunny?—Yeah ya fuckin' will.”

When you don’t answer right away Gojo delivers a harsh slap directly on your clit, the moisture causing the increased sting to intensify sending your senses into a state of floating. Yet, bringing you back to reality, another harsh smack lands on your cunt and you jerk against your restraints, nearly dropping the phone on your face for real this time.

You don’t understand what he's saying to you but you not regardless, eyes rolling back into your head—every single pore on your skin submerged in pleasure. Completely unaware, you don’t hear the additional buzz of the final toy until you feel its silicone lips latching onto your clit while the rigid faux tongue juts back and forth across your bud.

Eyes practically leaving your skull for the second time today, everything flashes white, blinding you even with your eyes wide open. A scream so guttural it comes out silent, the ball of tension in you finally bursting as releases flushes through your entire body.

Cumming harder than you ever had before, you just let go completely, gushing around Gojo’s thick cock still pistoning in your now drenched pussy. The splash zone from your cunt is quite a bit more than usual as a giant warm wet spot begins to soil and expand underneath you both.

Ears ringing, Gojo sounds a million miles away as you hear him chattering on about something—the phone?

You wiggle your fingers, realizing you must have dropped it, but you’re still clueless about what has him so excited—until Gojo’s voice finally slices through your haze, yelling out in absolute wonderment—

“HOLY SHIT BABY, DID YOU JUST PISS ON ME??? MMM FUCK ME FOR REAL!?—SHIT! YOU WETTER THAN A WATER PARK BUNNY—SO FUCKIN NASTY! PLEASEEEEEE PLEASEEEE TELL ME YOU GOT THAT ON CAMERA!”

Suddenly, it dawned on you that when you had let go, you had quite literally let it all go.

You could die—and if you could muster the strength to move you surely would have raced out to the backyard to quickly dig yourself a whole to do just that in. Yet that clearly would not an acceptable conclusion for your degenerate perv of a boyfriend who is acting like a sinner saved—praising pussy like a newly reborn evangelist baptized in the essence of your erotic filth.

His elation is simple as he figures how much you really had to trust him to be able to let go and lose yourself to him to that extent—now he wants to lose himself to you as well.

Easily drowning all inside your sloshing pussy like he never swam—Gojo doesn't stop, your pissing only encourages him to fuck himself further into a pussy drunk state to rival your own cock-induced stupor.

Yet, somehow he still maintains enough control to effectively lavish praises for how naughty and shameless your lil pussy is.

The frenzy drives him directly to his nut, eyes dilate further and slobber frothes past his lips while spearing his cock into you with renewed vigor. Whimpering and stuttering his words and hips alike. Gojo presses your leg draped across him back against you to be sandwiched between the two of you as leans forward to further ravage your swollen kiss bitten lips again.

Twisting you up like a pretzel and near the point of passing out from overstimulation you his insane joyous laughter sounds miles away as he topples over his peak pumping ropes of his vicious cum—that he’d been saving up for all you over the last two days—into your battered creamy core.

Gojo’s thrusts begin to slow but he’s in your guts just as far pushing cockhead right against your cervix stealing your lips into another fiery kiss.

Once Gojo finally lets you breathe air again, you’re completely out of it, the dopey blushing smile on your face. The embarrassment from pissing all over him is completely forgotten as hearts all for him linger in your eyes.

Sex with Toru was never dull to say the very least.

“There you go, there’s my good girl, huh Bunny? Not bored anymore baby?”

Gojo smirks down at you knowingly while peppering your face with sweet loving kisses as you’re steadily drifting off, allowing every exhausted nerve to claim you.

It's still a good minute before Gojo slides out of you, seeinghis discarded phone next to you—it's still recording. A mischevous smile plays on his lips.

Wanting to capture the aftermath of his handiwork, Gojo sweeps the phone across your body, thumbing off moisture from your dewy soft skin soiled with warming oil and sweat. Making sure to linger longer on your lightly heaving chest and the sporadic quiver of your thighs.

Zooming in even closer, Gojo’s two long fingers to part your swollen lips open, admiring more of his work—his masterpiece that was the copious amounts of cum and piss dribbling out of your abused lil’ hole down to the crack of your ass.

Now Gojo really has a dilemma—he wants to keep filming you as his cum, ever so slowly, trickles out of you. He thinks this scene would make the perfect time-lapse of the creamy sap seeping from your cunt like sugar maple. But he’s also fighting the urge to also suck all the creaminess out of you himself—the cum rimming around your puckered lower hole tempting him to Gojo start there and slurp and suck his way up your clit.

Truly, he never gets enough of how his taste mingles with yours—and he’s quite curious to know how the additional waterworks will add to your delectable flavor.

You were so fucking filthy and so willing to try new things all thanks to this doppel quarantine causing you to make this big a mess in the first place.

God he needed this.

More.

He had to have more from you.

Gojo couldn’t possibly bring this all to an end anytime soon. Cooing against your inner thigh Gojo makes a promise to your cunt.

“Heh, don't worry pretty girl, I'ma give you six more months of quarantine at least! Can't wait to—”

“—TORU, ARE YOU FUCKING SHITTING ME RIGHT NOW!?!?”

Whoops.

Yeah he definitely thought you were already fast asleep—teehee.

......RESULT: PASSED 𝚈𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚘𝚛𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚝𝚕𝚢 𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚏𝚒𝚎𝚍 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚏𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚜𝚑𝚊𝚖𝚎𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚜𝚕𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚋𝚘𝚢𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍—𝚋𝚞𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚚𝚞𝚊𝚛𝚊𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚎 𝚜𝚝𝚒𝚕𝚕 𝚊𝚒𝚗’𝚝 𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚊𝚗𝚢𝚝𝚒𝚖𝚎 𝚜𝚘𝚘𝚗 𝚋𝚊𝚋𝚎.

that's not my jjk man series (visit series page for full animation)

comment and reblog! next up toji, already finished posting—10/20

©blkkizzat 2024. do not steal works or gfx, do not translate.

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chuluoyi · 9 months ago

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✎ heaven's fury

- gojo satoru x reader

sometimes you forget that your husband has burdens as the strongest sorcerer alive. when he goes back home from a bad day and you're the first person he comes contact to, you're made aware of it once again

genre: angry!gojo, a bit of hurt with looots of comfort and fluff !! it’s self-indulgent too🤭

note: i knooow i said i'll post gojo angst next, but i forgot i have this in backburner too so... this hurt/comfort goes first :') based on an anon's request. loosely takes place after baby!

a part of gojo's love entries

general masterlist

“Sukuna's vessel is a threat— he must be executed as soon as possible!”

“The more we put this off, the greater the risk he poses to society!”

“Gojo, you can't delay his sentence any longer—!”

Weak. All of them. They always make excuses. Trying to pin blame on someone else.

The jujutsu world he lives in… is wretched. Gojo Satoru thought he knew that well already, or at least knew enough to not get riled up over it.

Apparently not.

“Gojo-sensei? You look scary...”

Typically, he would mask his clear disdain with sharp-witted jibes, but he reached his limit this time. Especially since they had been pressuring him relentlessly to execute Itadori Yuji for at least five times a week, each week.

. . .

“Satoru, oh, you're home already!”

At the end of it all, he went home with the worst of moods. It served as a reminder—of his deep-seated contempt for weakness and how burdensome he found the task of protecting the insufferable to be.

“Satoru...?”

And it's because of their weakness that Suguru—

“Satoru, are you—?”

“Just fucking shut it!”

And that was when he saw you, standing before him with wide eyes, cradling your—his—precious baby in your arms, who was sound asleep.

“Huh…?”

Satoru immediately tensed up, realizing his mistake. And what hit him even harder was— is that a flicker of hurt he saw flashing across your face?

If so, then you quickly blinked it away because in the next instant, your face lit up with a warm smile— kind of forced, to his dismay. “Welcome home, Satoru.”

Something inside him churned, his heart started to ache, and there was a bitter taste in his mouth then.

There you were, as accepting as ever, and he cherished you for it.

But not tonight. Not for this. You didn't deserve any of his misplaced resentment.

Damn it. Damn it all!

In response, he offered you a subtle nod and headed to the bathroom, thinking a shower might help clear his foul mood away.

Contrary to what Satoru might think, you didn't really hold anything against him.

You were surprised, yes, because he was usually such a ball of energy even when he got back from intercity missions, but more than the hurt, you would understand if now, he was pissed some way or another.

Your husband is still a human. He is entitled to be upset on some days.

After ensuring your son was comfortably asleep in his cot, you returned to your bedroom to find Satoru already in bed, facing away from you. Hmph... now that you thought about it, this silence between you was unacceptable.

“Satoru.” You poked his side, but he didn't budge and still had his eyes shut. You arched an eyebrow. “Satoru? You can't be asleep.”

“…” No answer. Okay, let's try something else.

“Honey, talk to me? Hmm?” you decided to swallow the heat on your face as you addressed him more intimately. Mind you, you didn't usually call him that. He was the one in charge of pet names.

“…” This shithead. That's it.

“Satoru, my tummy hurts—”

“What?” In an instant, he flipped over, abruptly sitting up. “What hurts—”

Seizing the opportunity, you tugged him by the neck, and both of you tumbled onto the bed, with him landing on top of you. Satoru instinctively held himself up and cushioned the back of your head with his hand so you wouldn’t crash into the headboard—his blue eyes wildly flickering, searching for any sign of discomfort or harm.

“You good?” he made a face upon realizing your ruse.

“You won’t talk to me otherwise,” you noted with a hint of annoyance. But then your eyes softened into a concerned frown. “Satoru… what’s wrong?”

Once again, Satoru felt hollow. You were worried and it reached him. “It’s nothing,” he replied, looking away, trying to downplay his fury.

You pulled him close, his head against your chest, and though he was stiff and taken aback at first, he released a reluctant sigh and instinctively snuggled closer, finding comfort in your embrace.

“There, there…” you soothed with a smile, gently running your fingers through his hair. “Feel better now?”

He let out another sigh against you, returning the hug and nuzzling his face against your chest. His body heat enveloped you like a blanket.

And after a while...

“...’m sorry for yelling at you...” he muttered with such regret it made your eyes widen. “Didn’t mean it.”

The slight prickle in your heart dissipated at once, hearing his muffled voice.

“Mm-hmm, I know.”

“Really.”

“Mmm, really, really.”

He held you a little tighter, breathing in your scent, and you kept stroking his head. He looked so despondent it warmed your heart, and made you want to pet him. “Our baby loves being held like this too,” you giggled fondly. “You big baby… you’re just like him.”

Your husband let out a soft grunt against your chest, exhaling deeply.

“Whenever you’re ready, talk to me, yes?”

And so after several more pats on his head, Satoru finally told you everything, about how the higher-ups were relentlessly pressing him to put an end to Yuji, the new kid he recently enrolled to the jujutsu school.

“They're just some paranoid old fools—”

“Mm-hmm.”

“—stinky, cringey, looks depressed most of the time—”

“Heh— now that's just plain disrespect.”

“Yuji is just clueless and just has a lot to learn,” Satoru grumbled sullenly. “They didn't even teach him a thing and incapable to— how dare they? To keep him ignorant and then murder him?”

...oh.

And at that moment, you found clarity. Why he got so worked up, why he got irate this time whereas he was usually insensitive.

First, it was because of your tragic youth. No one protected Haibara from his unfortunate incident and was there for Geto when he needed it the most—which still haunted him to this day.

And secondly, because he himself is a father too. No one deserves their youth being taken away. That has been his moral compass, and the sense grows even stronger ever since the baby was born.

It made something inside you flutter.

“Satoru...” you breathed out, smiling, squeezing him affectionately. “You’re ... a kind person.”

“Huh?”

“You take it upon yourself to mentor those kids,” you mused. “Just look at Megumi and Yuta; they've turned out just fine.”

Truthfully, Satoru didn't consider himself as kind as you made him out to be. At times he felt like he was doing it because it was right, sometimes he thought it was for fun, and at other times, he simply didn't feel like seeing more deaths or wrong paths. And he was sure if you had asked Megumi whether he was a good teacher or not, the grumpy boy would only roll his eyes.

But then, just as he looked up at you, the prettiest smile blossomed on your face, and you said to him—

“And as your wife, I’m... proud of you.”

The way you sincerely told him that made his breath catch in his throat, and his heart pound a little faster.

The woman who has become his everything. This unabashed, pure love you show him.

“Sweets, I—” he suddenly rose, back to on top of you. But his voice faltered, remembering the way he coldly snapped at you earlier. “I...”

You looked up at him innocently. And he swallowed the shame because he had to tell you too.

Because you were so, so incredibly precious to him, and he wanted you to know that.

“…love you,” he mumbled, his beautiful eyes meeting yours with no hesitation. His cheeks were burning, tinted with a shade of pink—and you out of all people knew best that him being embarrassed meant as good as him not being horny—

But before you could point it out, he leaned down towards you, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss. There was no trace of the man who was hungry for your body— it was just a long, chaste kiss that contained his feelings for you.

And when he pulled back, both of you were panting slightly, trying to catch your breath. Then, he pursed his lips, his eyes glittery—somehow reminding you of your baby's face just before he cried out for his milk.

“I wanna pay for my sin. Wanna cuddle you too.”

And so you let him. He held you close, his arm under your head and you traced lazy lines on his chest, feeling contented and somewhat giddy.

“You feel that bad, huh?” you chuckled, noticing his continued gloominess.

“I am,” he puffed out his cheeks before pressing a kiss on your forehead. “Because if anyone else dares to tell you off like that, I'll wreck them on the spot.”

“Hmm, how romantic. But come to think about it... you did look a little scary though...”

At that moment, he felt his heart drop, his eyes instantly rounded in alarm, looking at you with dismay.

“No, no, I'm not scary! Wifey, I'm your devoted and loving husband!”

Epilogue

Your morning started with your baby's cries. When you glanced over, Satoru was gone from your bed already. Curious, you made your way to the baby's room, and what you saw there caused you to raise an eyebrow.

"Satoru... what are you...?"

He turned to you with an expression so heartbroken as he rocked his wailing baby. "He keeps crying, I don't know why..."

However, your attention was drawn more to his disheveled appearance. Messy hair, slitted eyes as if he hadn't brushed off sleep, and most of all, the dark eyebags under his eyes.

"Uh, Satoru... give him to me."

When he did, your baby calmed down almost instantly, his sobs turning into light sniffles, and your husband could only scratch his head in confusion.

"Why...? When I tried to look at him, he cried even harder—"

"...no offense, but if I were a baby and someone who looks like a panda holds me up, I'd get scared and cry too."

Satoru let out a theatrical gasp, clutching his chest as he hovered over your baby—

"Nooo! Papa didn't mean to scare you—!"

...but to his horror, your baby turned away from him, hiding his face in your chest instead.

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opencommunion · 2 months ago

Text

looking back on how liberal political analysts talked about donald trump during his 2016 campaign, I notice two very important insights that have vanished from the conversation this time around.

1: the dire warnings about the rise of fascism were really centered on trump's followers, not the man himself. what concerned scholars of fascism in particular was that the already well-established neonazi presence in the US was openly rallying around a presidential candidate. trump's campaign emboldened neonazis, but the neonazis were already there — this is why we saw an astronomical rise in hate crimes against many marginalized groups during trump's campaign, before he was elected. trump himself was understood as an opportunist riding the wave of rising fascist sentiment — the wave itself was a bigger concern than the surfer. trump was replaceable. liberals now seem to have forgotten that trump's followers won't disappear if harris wins. the heritage foundation (originators of 'project 2025,' blue maga's favorite boogeyman) won't disappear if harris wins. extreme right politicians — many of whom I would argue are even further right than trump, and more embedded in the establishment — won't disappear. even if you mistakenly see the republican party as the sole provenance of usamerican fascism, republicans won't disappear if harris is elected.

2: the people centered in the crosshairs of trump's agenda were migrants and asylum seekers; chiefly those from south of the US border and from majority muslim countries. the intensified demonization of these groups led analysts to draw parallels with fascist parties that were on the rise in europe. hatred of migrants and muslims is indisputably the primary driver of 21st century fascism, from the UK to India. so tell me why the conversation in the US has shifted to revolve around white trans people? yes, trump supporters are obviously transphobic, but you have to trace this particular manifestation of transphobia to its source, which still comes down to white supremacy and anti-migrant sentiment. when you actually look at the way fascists talk about trans people, it all comes back to the idea that hostile foreign elements invading the country have degraded white christian values. trans people of color have already been targeted for a long time, because we're seen as a sort of vanguard of non-white perversion; this isn't new to us. white trans people are now experiencing increased persecution because transness is seen as infiltrating white families/communities and corrupting their whiteness. I'm not saying we shouldn't talk about the rise of transphobic policies; of course we should. what disturbs me is that anti-migrant sentiment has been shunted to the sidelines of discussions of 'trumpism,' when it is still very much the center of his platform. and that's the part of his platform that the harris campaign has adopted to try and pull voters from him! that's the part of the republican platform that the biden administration advanced with the excuse of 'reaching across the aisle.' and what more extreme manifestation of an anti-migrant anti-muslim platform is there than committing genocide in gaza and then refusing to let gazan asylum seekers (or even gazans with US citizenship!) into the US?

the entire US government, red and blue, is unified around the anti-migrant, white supremacist crux of so-called 'trumpism.' large swathes of the american public, whether they vote red or blue, are enthusiastic about genocidal foreign and domestic policies. none of this stops when trump is gone

#fascism

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lizziesangel · 1 month ago

Text

thinking of rafe cameron who picks up reader when she’s drunk

CONTENT WARNING: mention of alcohol / reader is drunk, rafe has a soft spot for reader

you stumble out of the party, your head spinning from too many drinks and your phone clutched tightly in your hand. you weren’t even sure why you went in the first place—probably to drown out the endless fighting back at john b’s. it seemed like all the pogues did these days was argue, and you couldn’t stand to be around it any longer. but now, as the night’s chaos began to settle, you were left with the uncomfortable truth: you were too drunk to get home.

the pogues were all back at john b’s, still at each other’s throats. you didn’t want to wake any of them, knowing they’d just make a fuss and probably lecture you about your choices. so, against your better judgment, you scrolled through your contacts until you saw his name.

rafe cameron.

you hesitated for a moment. he hated the pogues, and they hated him back with equal fervor. but there was something unspoken between the two of you—a softness he showed only to you.

maybe it was the way he’d find excuses to talk to you at parties, or how his eyes would linger on you when he thought no one was looking. whatever it was, you knew he wouldn’t leave you stranded.

you pressed call, holding your breath as it rang.

“why are you calling me?” his voice was sharp, almost annoyed, but you could hear the confusion underneath.

“i…” you swallowed hard, trying to steady your voice. “i’m drunk, and i need a ride.”

“please?”

there was silence on the other end of the line, long enough that you started to think he might hang up. but then he sighed.

“where are you?”

you rattled off the address, feeling a pang of relief when he muttered something under his breath and said, “stay put. i’m on my way.”

fifteen minutes later, a familiar black truck pulled up to the curb. rafe got out, his expression a mix of irritation and concern as he approached you. “you look like a mess,” he said, but his tone was softer than his words.

“thanks, rafe. always so kind,” you mumbled, stumbling slightly as you tried to stand. he caught you by the arm, steadying you with ease.

“c’mon on, let’s get you in the car.” he guided you to the passenger seat, his hand lingering at your back as you climbed in.

the ride was quiet at first, the hum of the engine the only sound. you glanced at him out of the corner of your eye. his jaw was clenched, his hands gripping the steering wheel a little too tightly.

“are you mad?” you wondered aloud, breaking the silence.

“i’m not mad,” he replied, though the edge in his voice said otherwise. “i just don’t get why you’d call me, of all people. don’t you have your little pogue friends for this kind of thing?”

“they’re busy fighting,” you admitted, slumping back in your seat. “i didn’t want to deal with it.”

rafe glanced at you, his expression softening. “yeah, well, they don’t deserve you anyway.”

the words caught you off guard, your heart skipping a beat. “rafe…”

“don’t,” he said quickly, shaking his head. “just… let me get you home.”

when he pulled up outside john b’s, he put the car in park but didn’t move to let you out. instead, he turned to you, his blue eyes searching your face.

“look, if you ever need… i don’t know, someone who’s not them, just call me, okay? even if it’s stupid like this.”

you blinked at him, his uncharacteristic vulnerability leaving you speechless. “okay,” you finally whispered.

he nodded, satisfied, and got out of the truck to help you to the door. before he left, he lingered for a moment, his hand brushing against yours.

“take care of yourself, alright?”

and just like that, he was gone, leaving you standing on the porch with a warmth in your chest that had nothing to do with the alcohol.

#lizzieswrites𝜗𝜚 #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey x you #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey

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dark-fics-4-you · 2 months ago

Text

Angel

dark!stepbro!Rafe Cameron x f!Reader

Warnings: noncon (rape), somno, incest (step siblings), loss of virginity, unprotected sex, unwanted creampie, drugs, drinking, possessive behavior, controlling behavior, mentions of previous male masturbation

A/N: in my mind, Rafe is like 2-3 years older than Reader (everyone is 18+ and college aged)

Rafe’s knuckles were turning white as he gripped the steering wheel. The speedometer was flirting with triple digits but his eyes still flicked back and forth between you and the road.

He should have known better, he did know better, and still he let you walk out of the house wearing that sad excuse of an angel “costume.” In reality it was just tiny white ruffle shorts paired with a white corset along with angel wings and a halo top headband.

Any other night if you had tried to walk out the door in lingerie in front of your step brother, he would have told you to change, but because it was halloween, and seeing you dressed up like that made him so hard he couldn’t think straight, of course he had said ‘yes’ knowing he’d be walking into the party with the hottest girl on the island on his arm.

What he hadn’t anticipated however, was the number of guys (especially his friends) who had the balls to flirt with his little step sister right in front of him.

Even Topper and Kelce had been eyeing you differently and it pissed Rafe off to no end.

You followed him to the kitchen where he grabbed drinks for both of you and he tried to ignore the eyes that were raking up and down your exposed body.

“Are any of your friends here yet?” He asked as he passed your drink to you.

“I don’t think so,” you answered, fishing your phone out of your purse to check your texts.

He hadn’t planned on letting you out of his sight, much less 5 feet from his side, but when he felt someone tap him on the shoulder, he spun around to see a blond girl in a Tinkerbell costume.

“Are you one of Topper’s friends?”

“Yeah.”

“Hi, I’m Tiffany,” she flashed a smile as she drank him in with her eyes.

“Rafe.” He responded dryly, taking a swig from his solo cup.

“What’s your costume supposed to be?” Her voice annoyed Rafe and he looked down at his blue jumpsuit for a second to remind himself before answering.

“Cornelius Snow, I think? Um, from the Hunger Games? I don’t know, it was Y/N’s idea.” He mumbled, looking past the girl to check on you, but when he realized you were no longer standing beside him, or even in the same room, he quickly brushed past her without a word.

Luckily you didn’t travel too far, but Rafe’s relief upon finding you was short lived.

Two kook guys were standing next to you, practically eating you with their eyes, and sweet, oblivious you were none the wiser.

“I love your costume,” one said.

“You look fantastic tonight.”

“Aw thanks!” You beamed.

“Looks like your cup is getting empty, you want me to grab you a refill?”

“If you don’t mind-” you had begun handing your solo cup to the guy but you stopped yourself when Rafe appeared to your right, snatching the cup out of your hand and wrapping his arm around your waist possessively.

“It’s okay, I can take care of her,” he snapped at the two guys, shooting a deadly glare at them as he led you away.

“Rafe, what was that about?” You complained, completely confused by his behavior.

“Are you stupid or something, Y/N? Because I just watched you try to hand your drink over to two complete strangers at a fucking frat party.”

“They were just being nice-”

“They could have been trying to drug you for all you know,” Rafe chided you sternly and you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was talking to you like you were a little kid. “Rose put me in charge of taking care of you tonight, and you’re not exactly making it easy on me by disappearing without a word and accepting drinks from frat brothers.”

The two of you arrived at the kitchen and you silently handed your cup to him to refill your drink.

“Just… be careful, Y/N/N, okay?” You had turned away from him and he couldn’t help but eye the way your corset showed off your perfect tits, and he dryly swallowed, hoping that his hard on wasn’t too obvious.

You turned to look at him, sighing like you were annoyed, but you nodded your head as you grabbed the drink from him, “I know, Rafey, I know.”

“Where are your friends at?”

“They should be here by now, but I haven’t seen them just yet.” You looked around the room you were in, still not finding them. “I need to pee, where’s the bathroom?”

He took your drink, pointing towards the hallway where the restrooms were.

“Come right back here, okay?”

“Mm ‘kay,” you responded, heading to the bathroom.

Rafe didn’t want to be so worried about you, he didn’t want to be so over-protective, but he couldn’t help how possessive he felt over you, and the thought of any other man talking to you, much less touching you, was enough to have Rafe itching to grab a gun.

He hadn’t realized how long it had been until he checked the time and realized you had been gone for almost 10 minutes, which seemed unusual.

Rafe went to the bathroom, knocking on the door only to find that it was empty.

He cursed under his breath, angry that you had snuck away from him again, and he closed the door behind him as he anxiously pulled out his small bag of coke, using his key to bring a bump to his nostril.

Shit like this was the reason he did coke so much.

Rafe left, slamming the door before turning to look throughout the large house party.

You weren’t in the first crowded room that he checked, or the second, or the third; and by the time Rafe finally found you with Topper, watching him set up a line for you before handing you a rolled up dollar bill he was seeing red.

He watched as you leaned over the table and sniffed the white powder into your nose, his knuckles curling into fists when Topper draped one arm over your shoulders.

When you looked up and locked eyes with him, your face dropped in an instant.

“What the fuck are you doing, Y/N?”

“Rafe-” Topper jumped in his seat, removing his arm as his face turning red when he realized how pissed off Rafe really was.

“Shut the fuck up, Top.” He snapped, never taking his burning gaze off of you. “What the fuck are you doing, Y/N?”

“I- Top was just showing me how to…”

“No.”

“What?”

“No, you’re done. Party’s over.” Your step brother stalked closer, wrapping his hand around your arm and harshly yanking you up off the couch.

“Rafe, you can’t be serious, you do it all the time!” You protested, trying to pull against his tight grip as he forced you through the house and toward the front door.

“I said, no. We’re going home. Now.” His voice was practically shaking with rage at this point, the effects of the bump he took in the bathroom settling in.

“You’re being so unfair! My friends aren’t even here yet!” Your voice slurred and Rafe realized how drunk you were.

“Did you have another drink?”

“Topper made me one,” you answered, and now Rafe really wanted to kill him.

What the fuck was he thinking getting his little sister drunk and giving you coke? Apparently Sarah wasn’t enough for him, he wanted another Cameron sister as well.

He could have Sarah for all Rafe cared, but you were his.

“Are you even sober enough to drive?”

“Yes,” he snipped, pulling open the passenger door of his truck and roughly pushing you in before loudly slamming it shut.

The drive back to your house was filled with a tense silence, and you were too drunk to realize just how fast Rafe was driving.

Rafe just stewed in his anger and frustration, equally pissed off at you and all of the jackasses who had been hitting on you.

Especially fucking Topper.

He should have known better.

Rafe pulled into the driveway, mentally preparing himself for the explanation he was going to have to give Rose if she was still awake, but when he glanced over at your seat, you were fast asleep. He sighed, partly in relief that he wouldn’t have to explain himself, but also frustrated that he couldn’t chew you out more.

He got out of the truck, coming around to your side to scoop you into his arms and carry you inside. Rafe cradled you in his arms, careful not to wake you as he brought you up the stairs and to your room, closing the door before softly laying you onto your bed.

Rafe leaned over, his fingers found the straps of your shoes, undoing them before pulling your heels off your feet and laying them onto the floor, where he took off his own boots as well.

When he turned his attention back to you, you looked so peaceful and beautiful it made his cock throb and Rafe suppressed a groan as he brushed a stray hair out of your eyes.

His gaze landed on your soft lips, and before he could stop himself, before he even knew what he was doing, really, Rafe leaned down, pressing his lips to yours for the very first time.

Rafe’s hand came to your face, softly stroking your cheek as his lips moved against yours. You tasted like alcoholic punch and cherry lip gloss, and Rafe could feel his hard on straining against the material of his jumpsuit.

He pulled away, head spinning as he mindlessly unzipped the top of his jumpsuit, pushing the fabric off his shoulders before reaching for the zipper on his pants.

All he could think about were all of the frat guys at the party eyeing you like you were a piece of meat they couldn’t wait to sink their teeth into. Like you were some prize to be won.

At the same time, the thought of someone else being your first ignited a blind rage inside of Rafe, one that festered in his brain and mutated into an ugly, twisted desire.

He wasn’t going to let his sweet angel of a step sister get taken advantage of or corrupted by any of the awful guys on the island, kooks or pogues.

If anyone was going to be your first, it was going to be him.

Rafe looked down, surprised when he realized he had been leaning over your sleeping form, pumping his hard cock with his hand.

He stopped himself for a moment, afraid that you might wake up, but you barely stirred, too deep in sleep to register your older step brother leering over you.

The blond took a shaky breath as he reached out towards your hips, his fingers brushing along the soft material of your shorts before finding the waistband and slowly pulling them down your legs.

“Fuck,” he softly groaned as he took in your matching white, lacy panties beneath.

Admittedly, Rafe was no stranger to going through your underwear drawer and stealing a pair of your underwear to jack off into as he fantasized about hate fucking you every time you did something to piss him off.

These were unfamiliar to him. You must have bought them just for halloween, he thought, a new wave of possessive jealousy coursing through him.

Were you seriously thinking about fucking someone tonight? Maybe your friends were never even coming to the party, and it was all a ploy for you to slip away from Rafe and hook up with some asshole.

Rafe’s large hands came to your hips, grabbing your panties and yanking them down your legs. His heart was beating so loudly in his chest he was afraid you might hear it, but he couldn’t stop himself.

He had to know how good you felt, he had to make sure he was your first.

He guided himself to your core, cursing under his breath as he rubbed the tip of his cock along your messy slit. You already felt so wet, he barely had to touch you, and he wondered if there was some part of you that subconsciously knew what was going on, that wanted this to happen.

His hands found the back of your thighs, spreading your legs further apart so he could get closer to you.

When he rubbed his cock against your clit, you squirmed a bit and a soft hum that sounded suspiciously like a moan fell past your lips.

He felt his cock twitch, aching to fill you up, and Rafe finally lined himself up with your slick lips before planting his arms beside your waist and pushing his leaking tip inside of you.

You felt so warm and tight, and the feel of your silky walls squeezing around the head of his cock was better than anything he could have possibly imagined. He slowly began moving, not going any deeper, but just creating a friction that made his jaw clench as he held back groans.

“Shit, Y/N,” he whispered, leaning over to press his feverish lips to yours again, the feeling of your cunt pulling him in making him feel dizzy.

He hadn’t intended to go any further, that’s what he told himself. He thought if he just got a taste, he could be satisfied and he could wait until later to have all of you.

But when his eyes flicked down to where your bodies connected, he was surprised to find half of his length disappearing into you.

You whimpered in your sleep as your walls pulsed around him, distracting him from his moral quandaries. Rafe reached a hand to your chest, cupping one of your tits over your corset as his pace slowly increased.

“God you’re fucking perfect,” Rafe murmured, his lips finding yours again. All the while, he pushed himself deeper and deeper inside you until his tip kissed your cervix.

Far too gone to turn back now, and spurred on by your soft whimpers and gasps, Rafe’s hips were snapping against yours faster now, channeling his frustrations into punishing you for the way you acted tonight.

You wanted to lose your virginity so badly? Fine, Rafe thought, he would take it from you to insure he would be your first and only.

He knew it was wrong, god, it was sick how deeply he needed to ruin you for daring to disobey him. Rafe was well aware that he crossing every boundary in the world, that you would hate that he had robbed you of this experience if you ever found out; but maybe that’s why he was so painfully hard as he rutted into you over and over.

And imagining sitting across from you at the dinner table, knowing that his sweet, innocent sister would have no idea that her older step brother was her first was almost enough to make him cum.

But the thing that really sent him over the edge, what had him spilling himself deep inside you and filling your walls with his hot, sticky cum, was your soft, angelic voice moaning his name in your sleep.

#dark!rafe cameron #stepbro!rafe cameron #rafe cameron somno #stepbro!rafe cameron x reader #stepbro!rafe #dark!rafe cameron x reader #dark!stepbro!rafe cameron #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron noncon #dark rafe cameron #dark!stepbro!rafe #angel

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thesummerpetrichor · 4 months ago

Text

𝓨𝓸𝓾 𝓬𝓪𝓷 𝓫𝓮 𝓶𝔂 𝓭𝓪𝓭𝓭𝔂

Father in law!Javier Peña x afab!fem!reader

Summary: Your soon to be husband leaves you at the alter, but you should have guessed since the practice seemed to run in the family. It’s hard to be upset however, when his father comes to repent for not only his own but his son’s wrong doings. Aka fiancé’s dad Javi fucking you in your wedding dress after his son ditches you at the altar.

Warnings: 18+ only minors DNI you will be blocked. Minimal editing, unspecified but thicc and legal age gap, infidelity, daddy kink, heavy breeding kink, insane dirty talk, toxic father son relationship, reader is delulu, praise kink, petnames, sex in front of a mirror, veil pulling??, a few spanks, creampie, Javi fucks you into the mattress, unprotected P in V [don’t do it!!]. Let me know if I missed anything 🫶.

Word count: 2.6k

A/N: Literally just porn without plot, lotsa fucking, I want father in law Javi. Minimally edited lmao I just banged this out Can’t wait for you to read it!! Hope you enjoy, nasties! Mwah!

Masterlist

You rich and I'm wishin', um

You could be my mister, yum

Delicious to the maximum

Chew you up like bubble gum

You love me, he wants me

I think I want you too

Best day of your life- yeah, what a fucking joke. But what were you expecting? Ditching people at the altar seemed to run in the family. Okay, maybe that was a bit of a harsh assessment of the Peñas, especially Peña senior, who, despite all you had heard of him from your ex fiance, had always shown you kindness.

The thing is, it becomes really fucking hard to be charitable to a family when their son humiliates you infront of the entirety of Texas. Leaves you high and dry on the steps of the biggest church in town in your great grandmother’s silk dress. It becomes even harder when you learn his mother had been in on it all along, sparing you not even a little apology, or a comforting embrace after her son's little getaway plan had been revealed.

Instead of extending you a supporting hand, she ran away to make sure her baby boy was okay, and that this entire ordeal hadn’t taken a toll on his emotional and psychological well being.

How thoughtful.

Of course, you were the pathetic one– unable to look anyone in the eye, sobbing on your fathers shoulder till you couldn’t breathe any longer. So distraught and unwell even getting out of your wedding attire seemed impossible. It only made you feel even more pathetic. At some point you ended up curling up in your hotel bed, still in the “happiest day of your life” outfit, and pleading for some time alone from your friends and family to wallow in your own suffering.

You would eat your feelings in the from of the apology chocolates the hotel had complimented for you, but you couldn’t manage to even do that without feeling like a total fucking looser.

After all that had transpired, and after years of hearing nothing but sour things about your soon to be father in law, safe to say you were surprised to see him at your hotel room door at midnight as the ambassador the family seemingly sent to smooth things over.

For it being only your second time meeting the man, this was far from the most opportune scenario. In fact, him showing up all sorrowful and apologetic for his shitty excuse of a son, in his navy blue suit and loose tie, made your already pathetic day all the more difficult to get through.

Your whole relationship you had blamed every fault of your boyfriend on his absent, detached father. You’d heard plenty about the lack of childhood visits, quality time, and playing soccer that had plagued your partner’s life, and had found it quite easy and comforting to pile on every relationship problem you ever came across as the consequence of Javier Peña’s lack of responsibility and good parenting.

What you didn’t expect, was to find that Javi Peña was a whole lot more normal and level headed than you anticipated. He was just a guy trying to make a good living and provide for his family. Sure, he was a little bit reserved, but he was only ever warm and sweet and even quite chatty with you. To be frank, you should have seen your boyfriend’s shitty behavior as a consequence of his insufferable mother from a mile away. God knew you weren’t expecting Peña Sr. to be the better of your two soon to be in laws.

That being said, you would have never expected to be on your hands and knees, on what was supposed to be your marital bed, being pounded from behind by your ex soon to be father in-law.

Because that's where you are now, eyes rolling to the back of your head thanks to the most intense pleasure you've ever felt. The drag of Javis cock against your walls has been building a steady heat in your belly, the stretch of him so perfect and delicious it has you pushing your hips back to meet his every thrust.

Any other day a man like him wouldn’t have needed much to woo you– with his cut jaw, handsome features and those chocolate brown eyes you wished his son had inherited. Safe to say on a day like this one it took even less, just a few rubs on your back, a hand smoothing over your head and trailing down your waist, a few “pretty girls” and “poor things” and some fucking sympathy from someone from your boyfriends sorry family.

Fucking pathetic.

But Javier knows his son is pathetic, knows he is a good for nothing moron who doesn't even know what he was losing out on when he walked out on you.

“He’s a fuckin fool- look at this tight little pussy, squeezin’ me so fuckin good. Bet he didn’t fuck ya like this, huh baby? Didn’t make ya cum over and over, make ya scream… stupid fuckin boy..” Javier’s grip on your hips tightens on hearing your moan, and he curses under his breath when your pussy flutters around his cock.

Your legs are threatening to give out under you, your knees tender from how long you've been leaning on them. Javier’s hand moves to grip the fabric of your veil, using it to pull your head back and make you face the mirror that's been teasing you all evening. “Look- Look at ya- fuckin cryin’ on my cock. ‘S the only reason ya’ shoulda’ be cryin’ in this pretty dress..” With drooping eyes you're faced with your own reflection– stains from your mascara running down your face now less thanks to the sorry of the afternoon and more thanks to the way Javi’s cock has been nudging your sweetspot.

You watch your tits spill out of your beautiful silk dress, the fabric now disheveled and a far cry from the sophisticated, simplistic garment it once was. You can barely recognise it, but then again you can barely recognise your own reflection. “Look at that pretty little body- fuckin made for me.”

“Yours-” you cut yourself off with a gasp, Javi’s hands squeeze your hips and your cheeks set ablaze at the way he looks at you when you catch it in the mirror. The whole sight is so debauched and depraved– you on your hands and knees for a man who could easily be mistaken for your father. But somehow it's even dirtier- the possibility of your ex finding out sends you into overdrive.

The silk of your dress brushes against your hot skin, flipped lewdly up to reveal your bare ass, bunched at the waist, the straps drooping and threatening to fall. Javi pulls the zip down even further, watching as it hangs off your body, draped like fabric from a 15th century painting.

Javi’s voice calls your attention back to the present moment, lewd words showing you he doesn't hold back the way his son does. “Gonna fill this tight little cunt up..” The stretch is so delicious between your legs, you feel the steady throb continue to tighten the coil inside you and you can’t help but moan. “Yeah, you want that? Want daddy to put a baby in you?” the thought makes you shiver, that name makes you shiver, has your cunt clenching around his cock. What an image- you, belly round with your father in laws child, well, your ex father in law. Unlike his son you were sure he would be the perfect husband, would bend you over ever surface in your picket fence house and fuck you just like he’s doing now.

Deep, and hard and fast, just like you need it. Just like you've always needed it..

“Please daddy, want your babies, wanna be yours…” Your voice is so broken and wrecked you're afraid he can’t understand what you're even saying. To be honest you can’t be bothered much, it feels so good, his thick, hard cock feels so good pounding between your thighs there's little else you can keep your mind on.

“Yeah? you like that sweetheart? we can play house..” you nod your head and his hand tightens its grip around your veil, exaggerating your movements, bending you to his will. “Wanna play house with daddy? can be my pretty little wife” you fist the sheets, pushing back against him with his every thrust. You do want that, you’ve always wanted that. And what better person to do it with. Sure, his wife always complained about how he was never around, but that's looking a lot more like a her problem– especially with the way Javi’s tip continues to kiss your sweet spot.

“Yes daddy, please..”

Javier lets go of your veil, and pushes his palm between your shoulder blades, forcing you down into the mattress till your cheek is pressed against the warm, fluffy duvet. One hand keeps you there, the other lands a quick spank to your ass and kneads at the flesh with a newfound desperation. “Won't be able to even say his goddamn name after I'm done with ya. Stupid boy doesnt know how to treat a pretty thing like you– so sweet, so gorgeous, so fucking smart. Too fucking good for him.”

With your lips parted and breathing heavy you drool onto the covers, letting Javi pound you into the mattress and overshadow every other thought that dared cross your head earlier in the day. If his plan is to make you forget about anything that isn't him, it sure is working. You don't think you’d even want to sound out his incompetent son’s name after he’s done with you.

As if he can read your mind his voice calls from behind you. “Want ya to be drippin with me.” the wet schick of his cock fucking into your tight, wet, hole reminds you of just how needy you are for him, and the prospect of having him dripping out of you– down your thighs, between your legs, leaving you all messy for him to come back and do it all over again, drives you absolutely insane.

“He’s fuckin useless, just like his ma. But look at you, so fucking tight ‘round me, making all those pretty sounds, she fuckin’ wishes she was you.” His words have your cunt squeezing around his cock, and a lewd, pornographic moan slipping past your lips. “My girl’s gonna be the perfect lil’ mamma, aren’t ya, so fuckin’ pretty.” You would certainly like that- in fact you’re almost surprised with how appealing it sounds to you.

“Gonna be perfect for you daddy, only for you.” your dress rides up even further, the front slipping further down.

“Thats my fucking girl.” That growl of his sends shivers down your spine– possessive, and confident and dripping like honey from his lips. It was almost like it could send you over the edge by itself. The lewd creaking of the bedframe fills the room, the sound of skin on skin driving you wild. The way he handles you– firm and deft but gentle and passionate, it's nothing like his son.

He’s nothing like his son.

“Yeah, bet it feels good don’t it, bein’ fucked by a real man? Feel daddy so deep in ya? Nothin ever been that deep before, huh..” You shake your head ‘no’ and he coos at how pathetic you must sound, barely able to make a coherent sound, forget string together a whole sentence.

“Make me go fuckin’ crazy, babygirl.”

What he says is fucking filthy, there’s no denying, no justifying it. It makes you squirm, makes you even wetter, makes you want him even more.

“Think you wanna go back to him? With daddy’s cum drippin between those pretty thighs, show him how a real man treats his girl?”

“Gonna make ya beg him to stay, gonna talk some sense into him, just so daddy can have ya all to himself, ain't that right? You gonna sneak into daddy’s room in the middle of the night? All wet an’ achy? Beggin’ daddy to fuck ya how ya need?”

“Wanna run away with me baby, live in a perfect little house, let daddy give ya his babies, fuck ya full’ve my cum every single night?”

His hands roam your body, smoothing over your hips, reaching forward to squeeze at your breasts, pinching and kneading the flesh. He bends down to trail light kisses along your spine and the feeling is like nothing you’ve ever felt before. Your head twists side to side against the sheets as you squirm, each sensation like it's heightened to the maximum, the heaviness and the throb between your thighs at an all time high.

You know you're close, you can’t hold it off much longer. Your cunt squeezes and your toes curl. You also know Javi won't last, you can feel him pulse against your swollen walls, can feel the way he desperately thrusts into you, pushes you further down against the mattress, grips your skin with that renewed fervor, with the desperation of doing anything to hold on to the incredible sensation.

“Come for me, babygirl, come for daddy, show daddy how much ya needed this, show daddy how bad ya need his cock.”

Your legs part even further under you, if that's even physically possible, your entire upper body being smashed into the mattress. You call out Javi’s name, followed by a string of desperate, strained, whiny daddy daddy daddy’s.

With a strangled moan that's partially muffled by the covers you come undone, your head spins and your heart pounds in your chest, you feel yourself gush and clamp down around his cock. You feel Javi’s hips stutter behind you and his cock throb against your wet walls. The feeling only prologues and intensifies your orgasm, your body going slack and eyes rolling back into your head.

“Please daddy, need your cum, please, give it to me..”

Javi’s groans catch your attention as you come down from your high, still reeling from the aftershocks when you feel his cock twitch inside you and paint your walls with his hot spend. Your words are strained and slurred, but they clearly get the job done. You shiver and press your ass back against him to meet his stuttery, sloppy thrusts, and bite your lip when you feel him tighten his grip on your hip, feel him land a final spank to your ass for good measure as he slows down.

You keep your ass in the air, face still pressed against the mattress as Javi pulls out. You hear him mutter a few strained curses under his breath as he does, and catch him looking between your legs to see his spend obscenely leak out of your used hole. He reaches his fingers to rub against your messy folds and you whine, feel him gather up your juices and push them back inside your cunt in a way that has you almost cumming right there again.

Your dress is still pooled at your waist and he unzips it entirely, sneaking his hands under your thighs and flipping you over and yanking you towards him.

“You really want daddy’s babies?” Your head falls back against the bed when you feel his hand cup your cunt, rub your messy, swollen folds with the calloused tips of his fingers. You barely manage to nod.

“Then I ain’t done with ya yet pretty girl.” You tilt your chin to catch his gaze, now in nothing but your stupid little wedding veil. You’re not sure about the best day of your life, but this sure as hell contends for one of the best nights.

You can be my daddy tonight-night-night

I'm neon phosphorescent

Open like a Christmas present, oh

You can be my daddy tonight-night-night

If you're seeking heaven

Then you wanna come and get it alright

Be my daddy tonight

What's up what's up

Be my daddy be my daddy

Be my daddy be my, be my daddy tonight

AHHHHH feel like I’m going to hell for this one. Thanks so much for reading!! Please please please let me know what you think. I’d love to know your thoughts!!! Thank you to everyone who engages with my work, you keep me writing!! 💗🐝

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solelifauna · 3 months ago

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With Bared Teeth & Prayers (Yandere Batfam X Neglected Reader) (Dark!!! Werewolf AU) (PT. 1)

TW: Mentions/allusions to cannibalism, death, and violence.

Three years had passed since that fateful day and your life had only gotten more miserable. Whatever hopes you had for being a part of a family were thwarted as soon as you stepped foot in the household. Bruce doesn't care about you, Dick was straight up mean, Jason (as the pack protector) was aggressive, Tim found you annoying, and Damien simply loathed your existence and would join Dick with his cruelty.

Both Stephanie and Barbara were civil with you, but neither really cared about what you did. Cassandra was nice, sometimes signing to you and giving you scented clothing, but she still didn't really go out of her way to engage with you. The only person who you felt truly cared about you was Alfred.

The first two years you tried your hardest to fit in and get the others to like you. You did whatever they wanted, made sure to learn their interests so you could talk to them, never complained, and made sure to respect the pack's boundaries.

You hoped that eventually, you’d all move past this hurdle and soon you would get along and be allowed in the pack den and other pack activities. Unfortunately, you realized that you would never be considered part of the family or the pack. Which as heartbreaking as it was, was the least of your worries.

You see, there was an ancient custom in werewolf culture concerning new pack members and pack initiation. When a new werewolf is introduced to a pack and their territory, the new werewolf has a certain amount of time to be accepted into the pack; if they’re not, well, they're killed and eaten.

Yeah… quite terrifying and barbaric if you think about it, but mostly only the old lineages still continue this practice. Which is why you’re absolutely fucked. See, typically when children come to a pack they get accepted immediately, pups were (usually) considered precious.

In your case, being a half-blood severely reduced your chances and well, you guessed the Wayne family just didn't like you. Which sucks because you only have until your 18th birthday to get them to accept you, and considering your 16th birthday was coming up, your time was coming to a close.

Or, you could always just run away. Hey! It was an option, one that you weren't sure the Bats would even let happen. Still it was worth a try. Which leads to your current situation in Bruce's office; you were trying to cut your losses a little early.

~~~~~~

“Look, I just feel as though this is the best course of action for your pack’s and my own safety.” Came your exasperated and desperate voice.

“Safety?” Bruce questions, causally flipping through some Wayne Industries documents, as if he doesn't know exactly what you're talking about.

“Considering Damian’s tried to kill me five times, two of his attempts almost being successful, and Jason's pit aggression that has him ready to rip my throat out, you can see why someone would feel unsafe.” You state, voice raising slightly in pitch.

He hummed noncommittally, his eyes still focusing on whatever paperwork he was going over.

“I'll think about it.” He replies, still disinterested.

“There’s nothing to think about! I should be allowed to leave if I want to, and if anything I'll finally be out of your pack's way.” You say, finally letting your frustration show through.

Why couldn't he just let you leave? Did he seriously want to keep you here just to kill– sorry, eat you in another two years?

“Excuse me?” He finally looks up from his work, his blue eyes meeting yours. He was unimpressed, you could tell that much at least, coupled with a dark look of simmering anger.

Okay, so maybe you should tone it down a notch.

“Come on, I'm not an idiot. I know me being here is simply a public formality, good fluff bits for the press y'know. But I'm not part of your family, and I'm certainly not part of your pack. You and the others have made that very clear. So please, allow me to do us both a favor and get out of your way.” You add.

“Where would you go?”

“Huh?” You blink in surprise.

“Where would you go?” Bruce repeats again.

“That–that is honestly none of your concern.”

“None of my concern? Aren't I entitled to know where my kid is?”

“No, you’re not. Sure you're biologically considered my father, but we all know I'm not really considered your kid.”

“Is that what you think?” He questions.

“Am I supposed to think any differently?”

“You carry the Wayne surname do you not?”

“I do.”

“Then you belong to the Waynes. To me. Which means that I decide what happens to you.”

There was the familiar darkness that you saw pooling in Bruce’s eyes, the type that left the Joker a tortured mess, the type that disemboweled Ra’s Al Ghul, the type of darkness that reminded you that Batman doesn’t kill. Oh no, he maims and tortures instead.

You unconsciously take a careful step back.

Bruce’s stare felt like ice, and his words hung in the air, thick and heavy with an authority that was absolute. You wanted to argue, to say something, but every instinct in your body screamed for caution. There was a darkness in his gaze that you had seen glimpses of before, but never directed at you, and now it was there, unblinking, cutting through any hope you’d harbored for mercy or understanding.

Your heart hammered, yet you forced yourself to stand straighter, swallowing down the instinctive fear.

“With all due respect,” you began, your voice smaller than you intended but steady, “staying here for another two years just for you all to—to follow through with that—custom, doesn’t seem fair.”

Bruce’s expression didn’t soften, but his posture shifted slightly, his gaze piercing through you like he could see every thought you tried to hide.

“Belonging is earned. It isn’t granted because of blood,” he stated coldly. “If you truly wish to belong somewhere, you work for it.”

“I’ve tried,” you said, voice thick with frustration. “I’ve tried everything. I’ve followed your rules, I tried with everyone, and stayed out of everyone’s way. But nothing I do is good enough.”

“You assume that acceptance is given on your terms,” he replied, voice as controlled as ever. “Pack structure doesn’t bend to anyone’s whims. Least of all a half-blood who hasn’t proven their loyalty.”

The words stung, tearing open a wound that you thought had scarred over. You clenched your fists, feeling the sharp ache of your own nails digging into your palms. “And what exactly does proving myself look like here? Surviving Damian’s attacks? Letting Jason rip me apart every chance he gets?”

“Watch your tone,” he warned, his voice low, cutting through any retort you’d planned.

You took a shaky breath, forcing yourself to take another step back from his desk. Challenging him wouldn’t help. He’d already decided where you stood, and nothing you said would change that. Maybe it was better to save your energy, conserve your strength for the day you’d finally slip away.

“Understood,” you said, swallowing the bitterness in your throat. “If that’s how it is, then I’ll stay out of everyone’s way.”

But you’d still leave when the time comes.

Bruce’s gaze hardened, like he knew what you were thinking. “Your place is here until I decide otherwise,” he said, a finality in his tone that told you any further argument would only worsen things.

He dismissed you with a look, returning to his papers as if the conversation were over, as if you were no longer there. Every step you took out of the office felt heavier, like the manor itself was holding you down, binding you to this place that was never truly a home.

As you closed the door behind you, the cold emptiness of the hallway wrapped around you, and you knew then—you were on your own. If you were to survive this, it would be on your own terms.

It's like clockwork when Alfred calls you down for dinner. The same time, the same routine.

You show up to dinner, hands still shaking and mind still reeling from your disturbingly cryptic conversation with Bruce. But, never mind that you’d just eat quietly and leave like you always do. You moved to your normal seat only to find that all the chairs near the end of the table had disappeared. What the actual fuck. Was this some type of powerplay? Something to imply that you didn’t even have a seat at their table anymore?

You mean, you wouldn't mind eating in the safety and comfort of your own room. With an exasperated sigh, which had a couple of heads turn their attention to you, you grabbed an empty plate and started loading it up with food. You were about to head back to your room when you heard an outraged growl from behind you.

The kind of growl that had you tensing, ready to submit and roll onto your back.

“Where the hell do you think you’re going?” Jason growled out from behind you.

You freeze.

“To my room?” You responded meekly, curling in on yourself as much as you could.

“And pray tell, why do you think that’d be acceptable?”

“Uh–um, ‘cause my seats’ gone?”

Jason only smirked, the feral kind that almost always promised pain to his enemies.

“Oh, but your chair isn't gone, it's right here.” Jason says pointing to a chair right near the head of the table.

You blanked. That's not right. Only pack was allowed that close to the head of the table, where Bruce sat, where the pack leader sat.

“B-But, I can’t–”

“Did that sound like a suggestion?”

You shook your head no, swallowing down a whimper that almost escaped your lungs.

“Then sit your ass down,” Jason growled.

He didn't have to tell you twice.

Immediately you shakily sat down in your new seat, on the left side of Bruce’s seat at the head of the table with Jason sitting at your left shoulder and Dick across from you. Not good, not good at all. You could feel the acidic, green gaze of Jason burning into the side of your face whilst Dick languidly sipped his wine, a sickeningly sweet smile (with way too many teeth to be considered anything but malicious), plastered on his face as he stared at the new seating chart. You let out a shaky breath, trying to get your heart rate back to normal; you were so gonna die tonight.

Thankfully, Bruce arrived and sat himself in his seat at the head of the table; right next to you. You closed your eyes, trying to focus on getting air in your lungs and slowing your racing heart. Unbeknownst to you, Bruce shot a knowing stare at the rest of the table. As much as you tried to conceal it, they could all hear your rapidly fluttering heartbeat and your poorly hidden breathing. Tim and Jason both watched you amused; you looked so darn pathetic, sitting there trembling like a leaf.

You glanced down at your plate, picking at the food without really tasting it, hoping that staying silent would help you melt into the background.

Bruce, however, remained still and silent, his presence looming over you, radiating the authority that seemed to keep everyone else in check. But even that felt like a facade; the way his gaze lingered on you for a split second too long told you he was watching closely, assessing.

You forced yourself to take a bite, trying to steady your hands enough to appear somewhat composed. But the sound of your own heartbeat seemed to echo in your ears, loud and unrelenting, as if amplifying the anxiety that twisted in your gut. They could hear it too; you knew that much from the way Jason’s smirk deepened, from the way Tim’s lips twitched with barely-contained laughter.

As the dinner dragged on, every clink of a fork, every quiet murmur, felt like it was directed at you. The food turned to ash in your mouth, each bite only reminding you of the eyes trained on you, dissecting you with every chew and every breath.

The rest of the dinner passed in strained silence, every second an endurance test as you forced yourself to stay seated, to keep your head down. When Bruce finally pushed his chair back and dismissed everyone, the wave of relief was almost enough to make you lightheaded. Quick as a whip, you practically ran up the stairs towards the safety and solace of your room.

When you make it, the locks on your door are immediately fastened (not that it would do much if anyone wanted to actually force their way in). You exhale in relief as you try to collect your thoughts. Fuck, everything was going to shit; the worst part being you had school tomorrow (which thankfully you did not go to Gotham Prep; you'd kill yourself if you did). You groaned at the thought, digging the heels of your palms into your eyes to relieve the ache shooting through them.

Looks like another night of shitty sleep.

Taglist!!: @lostsomewhereinthegarden, @the-rouge-robin, @confused-they

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vunblr · 3 months ago

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What if...?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ only. Smut. Unprotected sex. Dirty talk. Slight Angst.

Summary: Bucky navigates his insecurities and guilt from his past as he grows closer to his new neighbor, a nurse.

Word Count: About 8.4k.

I want to make a revision on this one, I just forget to.

She knew exactly who he was the first time they bumped into each other when she ran toward the stairs of her apartment building, and he suddenly emerged from them, lost in thought. He wasn’t wearing his gloves, and the glint of metal was pretty noticeable when he reached out to grab her elbow to prevent her from falling backward. The touch was brief, since he retired his hand promptly when he was sure she would not fall, his blue eyes revealing something akin to regret.

“I… I’m sorry,” he stammered, in a low voice as he retracted his hand, tucking it into his jacket.

“Oh, don’t be,” she responded, the corners of her lips lifting just slightly as she waved her hand dismissively. “I should’ve been more careful. The elevator’s out, and I was in such a hurry… ugh. We always tell the kids not to run in hallways and stairs because accidents can happen, and here I am-" She cut herself off, realizing she was rambling, and gave an embarrassed smile. “Anyway… hi. I’m Y/n, I just moved in yesterday.” She extended her hand.

He reached out, and his grip was firm but gentle. “James Barnes, but most people call me Bucky.”

Her eyes lingered on him for a moment longer, and as she straightened her nurse uniform, she bit her lip. Handsome. The cute wrinkles that creased the corners of his striking blue eyes, were the kind that hinted at a man who had both smiled and seen more than his fair share of hardship, and it was hard not to notice. His body, the epitome of perfection. She mentally slapped herself for staring. “Well, Bucky, I’m running late for work, so I need to go, but I’ll see you around. It was a pleasure to meet you.”

He nodded, watching as she hurried down the stairs, her uniform swaying slightly with her steps. He stood there, rooted to the spot for a moment longer than he should have, replaying the soft smile on her lips.

The days after that encounter passed in a blur of awkward run-ins. Each time, she greeted him with the same soft smile, and each time, Bucky found himself lost in thoughts he hadn’t allowed himself in years.

It started with a polite nod, maybe a smile here and there, but soon, their brief encounters turned into casual conversations. Small talk about their days, the weather, even little jokes about the state of their shared building. He found himself looking forward to those moments, however fleeting they were, because it felt so easy to exchange a few words with her, how her laughter always seemed to come just when he needed to hear it. He’d often catch her gaze lingering on him a second too long before she looked away, and it was enough to make him wonder if maybe, she felt the same pull that he did.

-----

One evening, as they both stood waiting for the elevator, she quirked a brow at him. "You know, Bucky, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were following me." She teased.

He blinked, caught off guard, but the playful glint in her eyes made him relax. He let out a small chuckle. "Well… I could say the same about you." She laughed, and once again, the sound made him feel almost normal.

His therapist had been telling him for months that he was isolated, and that he needed to socialize, form connections. She had even suggested dating, but every time he tried, it hadn’t gone well. The interactions felt awkward, forced, and he often found an excuse to leave early, or worse, sometimes he didn’t even bother with an excuse, just walking out of there without a word.

There was something about Y/n that set her apart, mostly the ease with which their conversations flowed. He wasn’t the type to talk much, often keeping things curt and to the point, but she had this way of making the silence between them feel comfortable, never pushing him to share more than he wanted. He didn’t have to try so hard to keep up with standard appearances. But the pull toward her wasn’t just about feeling comfortable, he wanted her.

He caught himself watching her more often than he’d like to admit, she was exactly his type, soft and curvy in all the right places. He couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like to touch her, to run his hands over her body, feel her warmth beneath his fingertips. But every time he got close to asking her out, fear crept in, locking the words in his throat. Fear of rejection, of being too damaged, of her seeing the parts of him he was ashamed of. It always stopped him.

Tonight felt different, though. There was something in her playful approach that made the fear feel less suffocating, less overwhelming. The elevator doors opened, and as they stepped inside, Bucky turned to her, his heart hammering in his chest. He could barely believe he was about to do this.

"Y/n?" he asked, his voice lower than usual.

She glanced at him. "Yeah?"

He swallowed hard, feeling the moment's weight as he stood before her, and almost panicked. This wasn’t something he was used to. He could fight in gruesome battles, survive impossible odds, flip a fucking armored truck with a tug of his arm… but asking someone out? That felt like a whole different battlefield. It was terrifying in a way those other things weren’t.

For a moment, he almost backpedaled. His mind scrambled, desperately searching for something else to say, some way to deflect his intentions and change the subject. But nothing came. He was stuck. He’d already opened his mouth, and there was no way to retreat now without looking like a fool.

Taking a deep breath, he jumped.

“Would you like to grab dinner with me sometime?” The words came out gruffly. For a second, the doubt crept in, making him wonder if he’d just made a mistake.

Her eyes widened in surprise before lighting up, and the smile that spreaded across her face, eased the knot on his stomach.

“Oh, I’d love to. It’d be fun to do something outside the building for a change. We run into each other so much, that I actually thought about asking you to hang out, but you always seemed rushed, like you couldn’t wait to leave. I’m glad that’s not the case.” She leaned in slightly, her voice dropping to a playful whisper. “You know, we can be neighbors and friends. There’s nothing in the building rules against it.”

Bucky blinked, his heart sinking at the word friends. He forced one of the practiced, uncomfortable smiles his therapist suggested. Friendzoned -a term he’d only recently discovered- wasn’t exactly what he had in mind, but he hadn’t spelled it out, either. Of course she thought he was just trying to be friendly, he hadn’t given her a fucking hint of his real intentions. He hadn’t flirted, hadn’t made even the slightest move to swoon her.

The old him would’ve had no trouble conveying his interest. He would’ve been smooth and confident, knowing exactly how to charm her and make his intentions clear. But he wasn’t that guy anymore. He hadn’t done this in decades, and the rules seemed to have shifted in ways he didn’t fully understand. Hell, he had shifted. He sighed.

"Um..." he started, tentatively. "I... just want to be clear," he continued, rubbing the back of his neck, "I meant it... as a date. Not just neighbors or friends grabbing a bite."

For a moment, she didn’t respond, still processing what he had just said. And then, something clicked. Heat crept up her neck as her smile turned more thoughtful. He wanted to spend time with her not because they lived in the same building or happened to bump into each other, but because he was interested.

"Oh. Sorry, I didn’t realize… I mean…” she stumbled with her words, “I didn’t know you meant it like that." She has had her fair share of men in her life but being honest with herself, in a million years, she wouldn’t have guessed someone like him would be asking her out. Not Bucky, the quiet, handsome, brooding neighbor with the sharp jawline and the weight of a thousand untold stories in his eyes. For months, she had brushed off the little moments between them as neighborly interactions, and nothing more. It had been easier that way. Safer, maybe. But now, standing here, the truth of his intentions was undeniable.

Her smile softened, "I’m glad you clarified." she finally said. "And yeah, Bucky. I’d like that, a lot."

Bucky gave a small, almost imperceptible nod, as if he’d been holding his breath and had just now allowed himself to exhale. A faint smile crept onto his lips, one that actually reached his eyes, softening the hardened edges he usually carried.

"Great," he murmured. "I’ll, uh, figure something out."

They shared one last look before the elevator doors opened, and as they stepped out, his heart was still racing but this time, it wasn’t from fear.

------

The first date had been simple, almost quiet in its ease. He brought her flowers, a small, hesitant gesture that made her eyes light up. They went to a bistro and talked about life, interests, and the kind of things you only share when you feel a certain sense of safety with someone. Bucky never said more than necessary, but she learned to read the way his eyes softened when he listened, the faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth when she said something that caught him off guard. It was easy and comfortable as their previous interactions, and yet, in the back of his mind, there was always the whisper: do you even deserve this?

The second date was at the small café on the corner of their building. There had been more laughter this time, the conversation flowing easily. As they sat across from each other, their knees brushed under the table. It was subtle, almost unintentional. When it happened again, neither of them moved away.

They walked back in a comfortable silence. When they reached her door, she turned to face him and for a moment, the space between them felt heavier, thick with the weight of everything unsaid.

His hand hovered just near her lower back, not quite touching, but close enough that she felt the warmth of his body through the fabric of her dress. For a brief second, she thought he might pull her closer to break that last sliver of space between them, but he didn’t. His hand lingered for just a moment longer before falling away.

Bucky’s gaze dropped briefly to her lips, and his brows furrowed slightly before looking away, almost as if chastising himself. His old-fashioned upbringing, perhaps, held him back and kept him from making the move she half-expected, the one she wanted.

“Goodnight,” he said quietly, his voice rougher than usual. His tired eyes lingered on hers just a little too long, as if he were still debating, still fighting the pull to act on the desire he was clearly feeling.

She nodded, trying to ignore the flutter on her chest and to respect his boundaries, even though her hands itched to reach for him, to pull him closer and start what he wouldn’t. “Goodnight, Bucky,” she replied softly, her own voice betraying the emotions swirling beneath the surface.

They stood there for a heartbeat longer, the short distance between their doors now feeling like miles. He gave her a small, almost hesitant smile, then turned toward his own apartment, the silence between them somehow louder now.

By the time the third date approached, Bucky’s nerves were starting to get the better of him. He didn’t want to ruin this. The cocky Sergeant Barnes -the man who hadn’t yet turned into a walking nightmare- would’ve laughed at him. That version of himself had been bold, self-assured, the type of man who could sweep a woman off her feet without a second thought. He’d have taken the lead with ease, knowing exactly how to handle the situation. But that man was long gone, buried beneath the weight of all he had done, all he had become.

Before leaving for the date, he poured himself an imperial pint of asgardian ale. Just enough to give him a buzz, to take the edge off. Standing there, glass in hand, he caught his reflection in the window and sighed. Could she see it? The darkness? The scars left behind from being Hydra’s puppet? And even if she didn’t... how long until she did? You don’t deserve this, the voice whispered again, unrelenting.

------

That night, after dinner, they found themselves in her living room, two untouched coffee cups growing cold on the table beside them. The dim light softened the space around them, creating an intimate cocoon that made their conversation flow effortlessly. Yet, beneath the easy chatter, Bucky’s doubts lingered. He couldn’t shake the feeling that any move forward could shatter the delicate balance between them.

He’d been raised with a sense of propriety, a rhythm to follow when it came to courting. There was a dance to it, an unspoken set of rules about when to advance and when to hold back. The trouble now was figuring out how much to let himself move forward, how far to let this go before the weight of his past dragged him under again.

As their conversation naturally ebbed into silence, he noticed her gaze flicker to his lips, lingering just a bit longer than usual. His pulse quickened. She was giving him a sign, even if she hadn’t meant to. For a brief moment, he hesitated, but the look in her eyes, and the ale still running through his system urged him forward.

He leaned in slightly, their knees brushing, and the warmth of her body drew him closer. His hand hovered near her arm, and she responded getting closer, her lips parting ever so slightly as if inviting him in without saying a word.

Slowly, deliberately, he closed the distance between them, as his heart pounded in his chest. The kiss was meant to be soft and chaste, but all restraint flew out the window the second their lips touched.

His hand slipped to the small of her back, pulling her closer, the kiss growing hungrier, more urgent, as if months of longing were unraveling in that single moment. With a gentle, almost teasing flick of his tongue against her lower lip, he urged her to open her mouth. She complied, parting her lips as she allowed him in, and things turned molten. His tongue slid against hers, and the heat between them spiraled when she let out a quiet, breathless moan. The sound sent a jolt of desire pushing him further. His metal hand remained firm on her back, pulling her as close as possible, while the other slipped into her hair. She responded eagerly, gliding her fingers up his chest and tangling in his now messy bun, tugging him closer as if she couldn’t get enough. The kiss was all-consuming, urgent and messy, as months of tension finally broke free. Eventually, they slowly pulled apart, heavy breaths mingling in the charged air between them. His gaze dropped to her lips, now swollen and flushed from their activities, and he felt the undeniable pull to dive back in.

Then he noticed it. His vibranium hand had slid down to her waist and was gripping harder than he intended. Much harder. He swallowed and looked at it, realizing what he did. His hand, still gripping tightly, could had harm her. He sighed, as frustration and self-reproach tugged at him, unable to find a balance between his longing and his fear of hurting her.

She caught the sigh, and her eyes followed his downward gaze until they landed on his hand, still gripping her waist. And then it clicked, she understood. It wasn’t just the pressure of his hand; it was everything behind it. The strength he was constantly aware of, the control he had to maintain, the fear of hurting someone he cared about without meaning to. It wasn’t just about this moment, it was about everything he carried with him.

Instead of pulling away, she did the opposite. She shifted slightly, pressing closer into his hand, her body language reassuring him. With that small gesture, she was telling him she trusted him, she wasn’t fragile, and she wasn’t going to break. He didn’t need to hold back with her.

He exhaled softly, and a question bubbled up, one that had been lingering in his mind for far too long. “Have you ever thought how things would have been if we had met under different circumstances?” His tone was quiet, almost tentative, and the weight of the topic felt heavy in the intimate space between them.

Her brow furrowed slightly. “Different how?” she asked, leaning in a little, her eyes searching his.

Bucky took a breath, and his gaze drifted again as if he were caught somewhere between the past and the present. “I mean… if I hadn’t been…” He trailed off for a second, a shadow crossing his expression. “If I didn’t become what I am. If I’d been just… me.” His voice was low, barely above a whisper, as though speaking the words out loud might break something fragile between them.

She stayed quiet, giving him the space he needed, her hand resting gently on his arm, a subtle reassurance.

“I think about it sometimes,” he admitted, his eyes were still distant, fixed on a point somewhere beyond her. “If we’d met before all the... before everything.” His lips pressed into a thin line, guilt flickering behind his blue eyes. “Maybe in another time, I could’ve been just a guy. Someone who didn’t have…” He paused, his metal hand still against her back. “Someone that wouldn’t have been so messed up. Someone normal and approachable.”

Her heart clenched at the weight of his words. “Bucky…” she started, but he shook his head slightly as if to wave off her sympathy.

“I don’t know,” he continued, quieter now. “Sometimes I feel like I don’t deserve…” He cut himself off, jaw tightening.

Without hesitation, she entwined their fingers, squeezing gently. “You do deserve this,” she said firmly, her voice unwavering as she met his gaze. She wasn’t going to let him retreat into the dark place where his self-deprecation lived. “You deserve to be happy, Buck. You’re a good man.” She sighed and shifted beside him, resting her head against the couch as she considered his previous words and then an idea popped up.

“Let’s see… if I had been born before 1920, I’d probably still be a nurse.” Her lips curved into a small smile as she looked at him sideways, eyes gleaming in the dim light. She watched him closely, seeing how he would react, her heart thumping just a little faster as she waited. “I’d have enlisted to work in a field hospital. And… who knows, maybe we could have met there when you were serving.” She let the thought linger in the air, light and playful, hoping it would lift the heaviness that had settled between them.

Bucky’s brows lifted slightly, and he tilted his head, with a faint smile tugging at his lips. He shifted closer to her without even realizing, his hand still resting lightly on her waist. “You would’ve been responsible for making sure I was fit for duty,” he mused, his tone was a little lighter now as if the idea of an alternate history didn’t seem so bad. “Keeping an eye on me, seeing my injuries, maybe even patching me up yourself.” He added with a playful edge, allowing himself to immerse in the scenario.

She grinned, shaking her head, eyes twinkling as she imagined the scene. “Oh, from what I heard about you, I doubt you would have visited the hospital very often, Sarge,” she teased, nudging his knee with hers playfully, a grin tugging at her lips.

Bucky chuckled, as his thumb began tracing slow, soothing circles on her back, a gesture she was growing fond of. “Probably not,” he agreed, leaning in slightly, his voice dipping into something softer. “But I would’ve noticed you from afar. Even if I had no reason to be there, you would’ve stood out.”

“Oh? Why’s that?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. Her fingers absentmindedly brushed the back of his hand, a smile playing on her lips as she waited for his answer.

Bucky glanced down at their intertwined hands, his rough, calloused fingers brushing against her softer ones. He looked back up at her. “Because you’re beautiful,” he said simply as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

She blinked, caught off guard. “Beautiful, me? Pfft!” She laughed softly, with a playful spark in her eyes. “But... now that I think about it, pin-up girls were a thing when you were serving, weren’t they?”

Bucky leaned back into the couch, pulling her with him, wrapping his arm firmer around her waist, a slow grin forming at her words. “Yeah, well, nurses were definitely included in the ‘interesting’ category too,” he teased. His eyes flicked down, tracing the curves of her body as his hand tightened slightly around her waist, making her feel self-conscious. “Especially ones with curves like yours.”

She let out a soft chuckle, shaking her head, but before she could say anything, Bucky continued, his voice lower now, a bit more serious. “You’d have been popular among the guys in camp, you know. They’d have been lining up, falling over themselves to get your attention.” He paused, his gaze flicking back to hers. “But trust me, I would’ve noticed you first. And I wouldn’t have let anyone else have a shot.”

Her cheeks heated as she tucked her legs beneath her, giving him a playful nudge. “Oh, so you would’ve asked me out?” she teased.

Bucky turned slightly toward her, the hand resting on her arm sliding down slowly, his fingers brushing her skin in soft, teasing strokes. “Oh, I wouldn’t have just asked,” he said with a smirk. “I’d have made sure you had no reason to say no.”

She felt her heart quicken at the subtle heat in his voice, the playful edge giving way to something more intense. Her breath hitched slightly, and she bit her lip as she gazed up at him. “Is that so?” she murmured, her voice soft, a bit more serious now. “And how would you have done that?” She leaned in a little, her shoulder brushing against his, her warmth radiating into the small space between them. “How was the game back then? Brought flowers? Invited me to dance?”

“Both, probably,” he murmured, resting his hand on her thigh, grazing the fabric of her dress with his thumb in slow, deliberate motions. “Flowers, because they’re classic... and dancing, because it’s intimate.”

“Well,” she whispered, leaning her head toward him, lips just inches from his ear, “I guess I would’ve let you court me, Sarge. Tell me about a date with you.”

Bucky’s hand tightened slightly on her thigh, the pressure just enough to make her heart race. His stubbled cheek brushed against hers as he leaned in closer, his breath warm against her skin. “Saturday night,” he whispered, his lips barely grazing the shell of her ear, sending a shiver down her spine, “dinner at the Officers’ Club, followed by a slow dance... and then back to my quarters for a proper goodnight kiss.”

Her breath hitched, her pulse quickening as the warmth of his breath and the weight of his words settled between them. She could feel the tension thickening in the air, her voice trembling slightly as she teased, “Only a kiss?”

Bucky smirked against her skin, hovering his lips near her ear. “Maybe more than just a kiss,” he rasped, low and full of promise, “but only if you wanted it too.”

She arched an eyebrow, curving her lips into a teasing smile. “Hmm, I dunno, Sergeant Barnes... things were done more properly back then, right? No sex before marriage, and all that stuff?”

He let out a low chuckle, his hand already inching higher up her thigh. “You’re absolutely right,” he agreed, his voice taking on a teasing edge. “I would've waited until our wedding night…” His hand slid beneath the fabric of her dress, fingers grazing the soft skin of her thigh. “But that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t have thought about it. Every. Single. Day.” He leaned in again as he whispered. “How you’d look... how you’d feel... imagining all the ways I’d finally get to touch you.” His breath was warm against her skin, the words heavy with tension.

“Is that so?” she murmured, her fingers sliding up his chest, gripping his collar just enough to keep him close. “You think you could’ve waited?”

His hand tightened again on her thigh. “I would’ve tried... but I don’t think you would’ve made it easy.” Bucky’s playful tone faded into something more serious, his voice dropping to a husky murmur. “Would you have let me… let me have you like that?”

She swallowed, gripping his shirt tighter as she looked up into his eyes, feeling the pull of him in a way that left her defenseless. “I-” her voice faltered, but she managed to find her words. “Yeah, Bucky... I would’ve.”

Bucky’s metal hand, firm but tender, climbed from her waist tracing a slow, deliberate path up her spine. He then reached for the little buttons at the neckline of her dress, being both careful and bold as he unfastened them, one by one. Each undone button revealed more of her skin to his darkened gaze, and the way he looked at her made her feel exposed in a way that went beyond the physical. “I would’ve taken care of you,” he murmured, his lips brushing her collarbone. “Made sure no one else got close to you.”

Her body leaned instinctively toward him, craving the closeness as her free hand ran up his arm, tracing the firm muscles beneath his shirt. “No one else would’ve mattered,” she whispered.

With a swift, deliberate motion, the hand on her neckline slid down and snaked behind her, grasping her ass and pulling her fully into his lap. She gasped as her hips pressed against his, feeling exactly how much he wanted her. “Every night,” he growled, his voice rough with need, “I would’ve made sure you were mine.” His eyes were ablaze with raw desire as his grip tightened, holding her firmly against him.

Her pulse raced, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer until there was no space left between them and his mouth crashed into hers in a searing kiss. His other hand slid higher up her thigh, teasing the edge of her underwear, fingers brushing the soft skin. A soft moan escaped her lips, muffled by the kiss, and when he broke it, his lips found the curve of her neck.

“So only one kiss, huh?” she chuckled in a breathed tone, and her voice trembled with anticipation as her hips instinctively rocked against him.

Bucky inhaled deeply against her skin, trailing hot kisses down toward her chest. “Well, I would've kissed you every chance I got but believe me, that wouldn’t have been enough...” His words were thick with promise, his breath hot against her skin. He pressed his erection harder against her, slipping his hand between them, and tracing her slick heat over her underwear with his fingers. The breathless gasp that escaped her was all the encouragement he needed. “… that wouldn’t have been fucking enough.” he whispered against her skin, his voice low and filled with hunger, as his fingers moved with purpose, leaving no doubt about what he wanted.

She bit her lip, her voice soft but laced with playful intent as she fed into the fantasy they were weaving. “Well, if we had ourselves a little house with a white fence, I’d have waited for you to come home every day in a frilly apron,” her eyes locked onto his, a teasing smile tugging at her lips as she added, “with nothing underneath.”

The image she painted made Bucky’s breath hitch, and his grip tightened around her ass. His eyes nearly rolled back, with his imagination spiraling into wild possibilities. “Damn.” His voice was laced with lust. “If I could’ve had you waiting for me like that,” he murmured, his hand gripping her tighter, fingers digging into her skin as his restraint began to falter “I’d have come home early every damn day just to take advantage of you.” His lips brushed the swell of her breasts, the heat between them spiraling as his imagination ran wild, and he pulled her impossibly closer while teasing over her soaked panties.

Her gaze flicked from his lips back to his darkened eyes. “Oh yeah?” she challenged, her voice a sultry whisper. “Right there on the kitchen table?”

Bucky’s smirk deepened, the raw desire in his eyes nearly swallowing her whole. “Hell yes, right there on the kitchen table,” he growled, his vibranium hand gripping her ass harder, possessively. “I’d bend you over it, flip up that little apron, and bury myself inside you until you screamed my name for the whole damn neighborhood to hear.” He confessed without a hint of remorse or shame.

Her body reacted instantly, hips pressing hard against the teasing hand hovering over her clothed pussy. A soft whimper escaped her, almost desperate. His hand answered her need by slipping her panties aside, slowly sinking his fingers into her pussy, stretching her with deliberate, agonizing precision.

She let out a shaky breath, her playful tone faltering as her body betrayed her. “How kinky,” she managed to tease, biting her lip as she met his gaze, her voice barely steady under the growing pressure inside her.

Bucky inhaled sharply, savoring the way she responded, his hand moving with more purpose now. “Kinky enough to have you blushing for days,” he growled, his teeth grazing up to her jawline before dragging his lips slowly up to brush against hers. His fingers kept sliding deeper inside her with slow, deliberate strokes. “And when the milkman came the next morning…” The hand on her ass squeezed the supple skin harder, pulling her even close against him, while the other continued its relentless torment between her legs. “...you’d be so sore from the night before, you wouldn’t even be able to stand straight. Couldn’t look anyone in the eye without blushing, remembering just how loud you screamed.”

She moaned at his statement, totally immersed in the fantasy. “That sounds… so good, Buck.” She managed to say, her voice trembling with want. She bit her lip again, locking eyes with him and starting to ground herself shamelessly against his fingers, the pressure building quickly inside her. “But... would you only fuck me at the kitchen table when coming back? What about… other creative places? Like the back porch, under the shade of the bindweed?...”

Bucky's eyes closed as her suggestion sparked a flood of heated thoughts. “Hell, yes," he growled, his voice thick with desire. He pushed his fingers deeper inside her, and his thumb circled her swollen clit, drawing a sharp gasp from her lips. “I’d lift that sexy little apron right up, spread your legs wide open, and fuck you right there under the bindweeds," he murmured, his lips brushing her ear, each word laced with promise. "And you'd moan my name, scream it, while everyone else thinks we’re just having a quiet afternoon tea."

The combination of his filthy words and the relentless pressure of his fingers sent her body trembling with anticipation, her breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps. "Bucky…" she moaned softly, her hands tightening their grip on him, desperate for everything he was giving her. Her hips bucked uncontrollably against his hand, her breath hitching as his fingers curled inside her, hitting just the right spot and sending waves of pleasure radiating through her body. The pleasure built inside her, tightening, coiling until every nerve in her body felt alive.

He felt the signals and growled, moving faster now, each stroke deliberate and calculated as his forehead pressed against hers, his breath coming out in ragged bursts. “I’d had make sure no one could ever touch you the way I did,” he muttered, his voice low and possessive. "Every inch of you, mine." He punctuated the last words with hard, rhythmic rubs at one side of her clit and that was all she needed for the climax to hit her, a wave of intense pleasure crashing through her. Her moans turned into soft cries as she buried her face on his neck, her body trembling violently as his hand continued to work her through it, prolonging her ecstasy.

When her body came down from her high, Bucky slowly withdrew his fingers. Panting, she looked at his gaze and saw the raw, unbridled desire burning in his blue eyes. Without hesitation, she leaned in, her lips finding his stubbled jaw, trailing soft, hungry kisses down his neck, nipping and sucking against his skin while her hand wandered lower and lower on his abdomen, finally unbuttoning his pants with deliberate slowness, venturing inside his underwear.

The moment her fingers brushed against his cock, he tensed and groaned. “W-wait,” he rasped, his voice thick with need and restraint. His hand held hers firmly, keeping her from going further.

Her brow furrowed slightly in confusion, her lips still hovering near his neck. “Why?” she murmured, “I want to make you feel good too. You deserve it, Bucky,” she whispered, her words full of tenderness and desire.

Bucky let out a low, shaky breath with a hint of frustration. He knew he had to come clean. “I want it too, trust me,” he muttered, strained. “But it’s been so long... too long. If you touch me now…” He trailed off, swallowing hard, the unspoken words hanging in the air. “Let me lead,” he whispered. He leaned in to kiss her, deep and slow, pouring all the pent-up desire into the kiss.

She sighed softly, pulling back just enough to reach for the hem of her dress, slipping it over her head in one fluid motion. The fabric lifted away from her body, leaving her sitting in only her bra and panties as the dress was tossed to the side of the couch.

Bucky’s gaze darkened as he took her in, his hands instinctively roaming over her bare skin. But then he groaned again softly, almost painfully, pausing as his grip tightened around her waist. “What happened to let me lead?” he rasped; his voice was thick with restraint.

Her breath hitched at his words, and she parted her lips to respond with a half-hearted apology, but before she could, his hands were already sliding down her body, reclaiming control. His fingers traced her bra straps, slipping them off her shoulders with excruciating slowness. “I need to do it my way,” he murmured, his voice was a low growl as he leaned in, brushing her ear with his lips. “If you don’t behave... this ends before we even begin.”

The meaning of his earlier words hit her then. He wasn’t just leading to take his time with her; he was fighting to keep from losing control, from coming right there in his pants. Her teasing grin faltered, replaced with a softer expression. “Oh,” she whispered with understanding. “I didn’t realize…” Her fingers gently grazed his cheek, guilt creeping into her tone. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to push you.”

Bucky tensed slightly at her touch, inwardly cursing himself for letting his vulnerability slip. His masculine pride stung. Great job, Barnes. Way to cool the mood. He forced a smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes, and leaned in, pressing his forehead against hers in an attempt to brush off the tension. “It’s alright,” he muttered, but the strain in his voice betrayed him. His fingers dug into her hips just a little, steadying himself. “I just... got worked up faster than I expected.” He exhaled shakily, trying to ease the tension. Then he started to move.

As his fingers worked at the clasp of her bra, his touch slow and deliberate, and he broke the silence with a low murmur, his voice thick with desire, yet laced with a hint of vulnerability. “You know… I liked you from the moment we bumped into each other on the stairs,” he confessed, meeting her gaze. “I still remember the way you looked at me, even after I knocked you off balance and grabbed your arm. No gloves, metal hand out in the open… but you didn’t flinch.”

When her bra fell away, his gaze dropped to her exposed breasts, and a low groan rumbled in his chest. His flesh hand cupped her gently, his thumb brushing over her nipple in a slow, teasing motion.

“I loved how your uniform looked on you then,” he continued, his tone growing huskier as his metal hand slid to the small of her back, pulling her closer. “I still do. Every time I see you in it, it makes it hard to focus on anything else.”

His thumb continued its slow teasing, but then his expression shifted, a flicker of doubt crossing his face. His voice dropped, a hint of regret slipping into his words. “I wish I’d asked you out sooner. The old me… he would've handled this better. Would’ve known exactly how to...”

She cut him off before he could finish, her fingers threading through his hair as she pulled him closer. “Stop,” she said firmly, her tone was soft but unwavering. “The moment of ‘what if’ has passed. I don't want the man you used to be, Bucky.” Her lips brushed against his jaw, her breath hot against his skin. “I want you. Not someone I never knew.”

He closed his eyes for a moment and then opened them fixing his gaze on hers. She wasn’t looking for the version of him with the effortless charm and swagger. She never did. She wanted him, baggage, scars, and everything else.

A slow, shaky breath escaped him, tightening his grip on her as a flicker of vulnerability passed through his eyes. “You don’t know how much that means,” he muttered, brushing his lips against her jaw, then down to her neck. His movements were soft at first, but as her hands gripped his shoulders, urging him on, the hesitation melted away.

His mouth found hers again, kissing her hard, moving his hands with more confidence again. “I’ve wanted this... you,” he rasped, his breath hot against her skin. “For so damn long.” She responded with a moan, her body arching into him as he took full control.

He groaned, unable to hold back any longer as the tension between them reached its peak. He gently shifted her off his lap, laying her down on the couch, his hands lingering on her hips for a moment before he stood. His breath was heavy, and though his chest tightened with familiar insecurities, especially about his arm, he pushed forward.

His fingers moved to the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head. As the fabric fell to the floor, his eyes darted to her face, half-expecting some flicker of hesitation or doubt. Instead, her gaze roamed over him, dark with desire as her eyes took in the hard lines of his chest. “Damn... you’re perfect.” Her voice came out breathly and soft. Swallowing hard, Bucky quickly slid his pants and boxers down in one smooth motion, kicking them aside. Now fully bare before her, he stood there, chest rising and falling as her gaze lingered on him. He could see her eyes focused on his size, her lips parted as she let out a soft, breathless sound. The way she looked at him -no hesitation, only hunger- made his insecurities, the doubts about his scars, his arm, everything, to retract to a far corner of his mind.

Without a word, he climbed on top of her, positioning himself between her legs. His hands trailed down her sides, gripping her hips firmly as he pulled her closer. Slowly, he guided his cock to her slick entrance, teasing her folds as he coated his shaft with her wetness. A low, rumbling groan escaped his lips as he playfully rubbed the tip of his cock against her clit, the pressure sending jolts of pleasure through her body.

She reacted instantly, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she writhed beneath him. “Bucky…” she moaned softly, tilting up her hips toward him, aching for more.

He moved slowly, sliding inside her inch by inch, and paused as soon as he was fully sheathed, giving her a moment to adjust. Her body clenched tightly around him, a gasp escaping her lips as her nails dug into his shoulders. Her breath came in shallow, uneven bursts, the sensation of him filling her was completely overwhelming. The tight heat of her body had him teetering on the edge, but he held back, determined to give her time.

He pulled back slightly, then pushed forward again, slowly and deliberately, testing her response. Her breath hitched, and her thighs trembled around his hips with each thrust. She bit her lip, eyes fluttering shut as she struggled to find her breath.

“Fuck, Bucky,” she whispered breathlessly, her voice barely audible but heavy with surprise and awe. “You’re… big. I’ve never... God!”

Her words sparked something deep within him, the mixture of vulnerability and pleasure igniting a fire he could barely contain. A low growl rumbled in his throat as his control began to slip. His hands moved to the back of her thighs, gripping them firmly just beneath her knees, then in one swift motion, he lifted her legs, spreading her wider as he started to thrust deeper, hitting spots that made her eyes fly open, a strangled moan escaping her lips. “Bucky… oh my God,” she gasped, her voice trembling as she struggled to take all of him.

Encouraged by her reaction, Bucky picked up the pace, his thrusts growing harder and faster, losing himself in the haze of lust that overtook him. He pulled her thighs higher, spreading her wider, driving into her with relentless force. Each thrust was deeper and rougher, and her moans quickly turned into desperate, breathless cries of pleasure.

The sound of her moans, the way she cried out his name, only fueled him further. “You like that?” he growled, his voice low and ragged as he thrust into her again, deeper, harder. Her slick heat gripped him tighter with every movement, making his pulse race. “Look at me, Doll. You like it rough?”

Her body arched beneath him, her hands scrambling for something to hold onto as the intensity of his thrusts tore through her. “Yes! Bucky… fuck! Don’t stop,” she moaned, her voice breaking as he kept his relentless, punishing pace.

“Oh, I won’t stop,” he growled, pulling out of her with a slick sound, only to flip her over onto her stomach in one swift motion. His hands gripped her hips roughly, pulling her ass up and positioning her on all fours before she had time to catch her breath.

Before she could process the shift, Bucky slammed back into her, filling her completely. She gasped, her fingers clutching at the couch cushions as he drove into her from behind, his pace unrelenting. “Is this what you wanted?” he rasped, his flesh hand sliding up her back before grabbing a fistful of her hair, pulling her head back slightly as his hips pistoned against her, thrusting deep and hard.

She let out a scream of pleasure as he pounded into her. “Yes! Oh God, yes,” she cried, her voice hoarse, her body helpless under his rough control.

Bucky grunted with each powerful thrust, his grip on her hair tightening, his metal hand digging into her hip, guiding her back onto him. The angle allowed him to go even deeper, kissing her cervix with every push of his hips. Her moans only spurred him on, the rhythm of their bodies frantic and primal, skin slapping against skin.

He released her hair and grabbed both her hips, yanking her back onto his cock with force, losing himself in the haze of lust. “Come for me,” he growled, his hand coming down on her ass with a sharp smack, making her gasp.

Before she could recover, his hand slid between her legs, his fingers finding her clit. He circled it with firm, deliberate pressure, his voice rough as he leaned over her, thrusting deeper still. “I want you to come all over me, Doll.” The moment his fingers found her swollen nub, her body responded, hips bucking involuntarily as her breath hitched. The pressure building inside her hit its peak, and with a loud, desperate moan, she shattered beneath him, her body trembling violently as she came hard.

The feel of her tight, wet heat spasming around him was too much for Bucky to handle. He let out a guttural moan, his hips slamming into her as his own release took hold. “Fuck,” he growled, his voice ragged as his body tensed, and he came hard, spilling thick, hot spurts inside her. His hips jerked involuntarily with each wave of pleasure, the intensity of his orgasm hitting him harder than he’d expected. He gasped, his forehead falling to her back as he rode out the aftershocks, his cock pulsing inside her, still surrounded by the tight, wet heat of her body.

The sound of their heavy breathing filled the room, the intensity of their release left them trembling, bodies slick with sweat. Bucky stayed inside her for a moment longer, his fingers lazily circling her clit, drawing out her pleasure as her body continued to spasm beneath him. But as the haze of bliss began to fade, his mind started to catch up with his body, and a flicker of doubt crept in. Had he been… too much?

Slowly, he withdrew from her, and the cool air was a stark contrast to the heat of their bodies. His hand slid up to her shoulder, gentle, almost tentative. “Are you okay?” His tone was low and uncertain.

She turned her head slightly, pressing her cheek into the cushion as her hooded eyes found his. “I’m better than okay,” she murmured. “That was... perfect, Buck.”

He exhaled, feeling the tension in his body ease a little, but his mind refused to quiet. What if she was trying to play it cool after being on the receiving end of nearly 80 years of pent-up frustration?

Sensing his unease, she shifted, sitting up on the couch. Her hands cradled his face, gently brushing her thumbs against his skin. He looked almost miserable for someone who had, minutes ago, been nothing short of a god of intercourse.

“You didn’t hurt me, Bucky,” she said. “I meant it when I said it was perfect. Stop overthinking. It was the best I’ve ever had.” Her cheeks heated as she realized the weight of her words, but she didn’t back down. “I mean it,” she added, her voice softening as her gaze dropped for a moment. “It really was the best I’ve ever had.”

The tension in his body slowly began to melt away as he absorbed her words. His breathing steadied, and the storm of doubts in his mind started to quiet. He looked down, feeling a pang of guilt for letting his insecurities creep in precisely in that moment. Running a hand through his messy hair, he shook his head.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I didn’t mean to ruin the moment. I just... I get in my head sometimes.”

She gave him a gentle smile, brushing her fingers on his scruffy cheek again. “You didn’t ruin anything, Bucky, not even close. If anything, the only thing you’ll have to atone for... is setting the bar pretty high.”

Bucky’s lips curved into a small, almost shy smile. He exhaled deeply, feeling the weight on his chest finally lift. Without saying anything, he reached up, gently cupping her cheek, brushing softly over her skin in a silent gesture of gratitude.

They stayed like that for a while, wrapped in the comfort of each other’s presence. The silence between them wasn’t empty; it was full of understanding, unspoken promises, and the certainty that, somehow, they were exactly where they were meant to be.

Dividers by: @strangergraphics

#bucky barnes x curvy!reader #bucky x curvy!reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky smut #bucky barnes fic #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes #fatws bucky #bucky barnes fanfic #the winter soldier x reader #winter soldier x female reader #winter soldier fanfiction

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gojoest · 1 year ago

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𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐇 𝐁𝐄𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐋𝐄 — gojo satoru

MDNI, f! reader, she/her pronouns used, wc: 3.3k, flashback of how you met (1st part of the fic, past tense used, then we jump back to present, divider used to separate the two timelines. both take place on his birthday btw), suguru makes an appearance (as satoru’s wingman :3), established relationship (you’re married & have a daughter), reader wears a dress, first time face sitting + riding (oral, f! receiving), pet names (baby, my love), he cums in his pants, breeding implied at the end (sort of, to avoid spoilers)

a/n: happy birthday to my biggest mental illness ♡

side note: if the story of how you met sounds familiar to you, please note that it was from one of my talk posts from a while ago & i decided to make use of it : )

what gojo satoru wants — he always gets.

after all, it’s how he made you his as well.

“satoru, you’re staring way too hard at her”, suguru nudged him on the arm.

“think she noticed, too?”, satoru chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, ears turning slightly red from embarrassment, unsure if it was because he got caught or that it was too obvious he was checking you out.

“very likely. i mean, it’s hard not to notice an annoying pair of blue laser beams persistently invading your space”, suguru mocked. “are you going to talk to her?”

“yes”, satoru firmly replied, without peeling his eyes from you, “i’ll ask her out, i think”

“hey, hey. slow down there”

“nope”, satoru shrugged, almost like a stubborn child disobeying his parent, “i’ve made up my mind — i really want to make her mine”

it was a pure coincidence, or some might say fate, that you ended up in the same restaurant — he was there celebrating his birthday with a small circle of friends while you were present to honor your colleague that had just gotten a promotion at work.

satoru’s eyes relentlessly followed your every move, every gesture, from the moment you walked in and settled on the table next to his. it was rather unusual for him to be this interested in someone simply upon sight, in fact, even desiring to pursue something with someone so immediately. it was always the other way around — women would flock to him because of his looks and peculiar behavior, and of course — his money — but he would turn them down without batting an eye. love and seeking romance were never a priority for him, he did not have time nor any interest in them. but here he was, contradicting himself, being blatantly distracted by your presence while somehow trying to simulate an active conversation with his friends, more than frequently averting his gaze to look at you, his brain busy coming up with a plan to get your number by the end of the night.

it didn’t take him too long to finally make his move. he stood up from his chair and walked over to your table, stopping right behind your seat.

“excuse me”, he leaned in, placing one hand at the edge of the table and the other — at the back of your chair, “hello”, his face mere inches away from yours. taken aback by the way he, a complete stranger, had the guts to get this close to you, you turned to face him with a questioning look.

“i felt like i would regret it for the rest of my life if i didn’t come say hi to you”, he spoke.

truth be told, despite being astounded and a bit put off by his approach, you were slightly intrigued. he was handsome, pretty even — like that one oddly eye-catching cloud in a sky full of thousands that you notice as soon as you look up. the white henley shirt he was wearing made the blue in his eyes pop even more, the v-neck revealing a little bit of his well-crafted chest, just enough to leave you tiny bit wondering about the ridges of his abs beneath.

as much as the scenery up close made your cheeks feel hot, his boldness rubbed you up the wrong way, too much to let it just slide, and you snapped. “is that so? well, now that you’ve said your hi, you can go back to your table and live with no regrets for the rest of your life”, you rolled your eyes skeptically, pushing his hand off the table.

“oh, i am sorry”, he chuckled, brushing his hair back with a hand, “but there are three more things i need to do before leaving, i’m afraid”

you raised an eyebrow, questioning.

“first, let me introduce myself — i am gojo satoru, also known as the man to be your boyfriend, then your husband, and then the father of your children”, he smugly said. your eyes widening at the audacity of his declaration that left you at a loss for words. “second, i hope you don’t mind introducing yourself as well — as you are to be my girlfriend, then my wife, and then the mother of my children — it’s only natural that i know your name”, he continued, “and last but not least — i am not leaving until you give me your number so we can make this all work”

wow. this man was really fucked in the head, you were sure of it — who in the right mind would speak such nonsense to someone they just met? “you have to be joking, right?”, you laughed in genuine disbelief.

“no. i am dead serious”, he replied in a heartbeat.

“is this your move? you pull this on everyone you find remotely attractive?”, you narrowed your eyes.

“actually—”, suguru interrupted, placing a hand on satoru’s shoulder as he approached from behind, “no”, he spoke. “believe me when i tell you this — he’s never been this smooth in his entire life. i know he probably came off a bit creepy, considering the boldness of his actions — hell, even i am creeped out because it’s pretty unusual for him to act like this”, he laughed, glancing at satoru to let him know that he got his back on this. “but, what i’m trying to say is — my friend here seems to really like you as i’ve never seen him be so intense and interested in anyone before. he’s also a birthday boy today — so could you at least give him a chance before turning him down so quickly? you can come sit with us before you make up your mind on whether you want to give him your number or not?”

you thought for a second, weighing the options in your mind — he was pretty, although he annoyed you a little bit by being all bossy and arrogant as if you were compelled to belong to him just because he said so. but there was just something about him you couldn’t quite put your finger on that made you question yourself. were you actually drawn to him? you could say “no” and never hear from him again, occasionally pondering over the what-if’s and should-have’s from this night; or you could say “fuck it” and see where this strange encounter goes, and live your life without regrets — as he would say. there — he was already getting under your skin…

“well”, you sighed, “guess i’m down for that”

by the end of the night not only did you give him your number, but also a promise for a date the next day — the first of many to follow after.

“careful, you’ll wake her up”, you whisper, leaning against the doorframe of your 3-year old’s room and watching your husband place a soft peck on your daughter’s forehead.

“can’t help it”, he speaks quietly, “she looks like an angel”, before fixing the blankets around her, making sure she’s tucked in all cozily. “the nanny said she cried for papa while we were gone”, he puts a hand over his mouth to stop his lips from trembling, his eyes filled with nothing but love and tenderness, welling up and flowing from the corners.

“she’s such a daddy’s girl”, you sigh, a soft smile present on your face, “next year we can stay home and invite everyone else over — that way we won’t have to worry about missing her bedtime”.

“yea”, he hums, “let’s do that next year”, giving her one last kiss before turning off the night lamp and tiptoeing to you. “come on”, he puts a hand at the small of your back as you both walk out of the room.

“do you remember”, satoru speaks softly into your ear while walking behind you on your way to your shared bedroom, his front flat against your back, the hand at the small of it now circling around to rest over your navel, while the other — reaches for the handle of your bedroom door to push it open, “the night we first met on my birthday?”, he continues after carefully guiding you inside.

you stop in the middle of the room, his arms still wrapped around you from behind, your hands resting over his and playing with his knuckles.

“how can i not?” you chuckle, tilting your head back to let him rest his chin on your forehead, “that was one hell of a fortune telling you pulled on me back then”

“but i was right, no?”, he brushes his lips on your forehead before leaving a soft peck, “see — you’re all mine now, just like i said”, and then another, ”i made you my girlfriend first”, and another, “then i gave you my last name”, and a fourth one, “and then you gave me a beautiful daughter, made me a father”, before turning you around to face him.

“you partly owe it to suguru though — he eased me into the situation, unlike you”, you reply, humbling him like you always do. your head is nestled on his broad chest as one of his hands caress the back of it. still in his embrace, he slowly walks you towards the bed. sits at the edge of it and straddles you on his lap. his palms finding their way to the plush of your thighs draped over his, caressing them tenderly but needily as his fingertips press and then release against your flesh in quick repetitive motions.

“this is because i asked him to give me a hand in case you cut me off”, he admits, tilting his head to meet your lips, not to kiss but just to keep them brushing against each other as you speak. he loved doing this a lot.

“oh?”, you gasp into his mouth, pretending to be shocked to your core, “you wanted me so much that you of all people, the gojo satoru, had to ask someone else for help?”

“you have no idea. if that hadn’t worked, i would’ve fallen on my hands and knees and begged you to take me”, one of his hands reaching the side of your face, playing his fingers on the strands of your hair covering your cheek before tucking them behind your ear.

“hmm”, you doubt, “is that so?”, nuzzling your nose against his.

“mhmm”, he nods, “there’s nothing i wouldn’t do for you, i thought you knew that by now. it kind of hurts my feelings that you doubt me actually”, he acts offended, pursing his lips and turning his head to the side to face away from you.

“oh my, what have i done now”, you knit your brows and press your cheek against his, pretending to be very, very sorry about what you just said.

“you made the birthday boy sad”, he huffs a silly, somehow obviously forced, pout, “you’ve got to make it up to me somehow”

“i’d do anything to make the birthday boy smile again — just say the word”, you sweetly pamper, patting the top of his head.

“really?”

“really.”

“anything?”

“anything.”

“you promise not to go back on your word?”

“i promise.”

he pulls his cheek away from yours and looks you in the eyes, the blue in his shining with a darker shade of mischief now. and considering the smug smile on his face, you sigh — perhaps you just got yourself played, falling face down into his little trap.

“then”, he points at his own face, “sit on it”

to say you were surprised by his request would be a lie. he’s many times tried coaxing you into doing this in the past but somehow you managed to avoid it, part of you still shying away from it. it’s not like his tongue has never been inside you before. but riding it as if it were his cock seemed way more obscene in your head than anything you two have ever done previously — and you’ve done pretty much a lot.

“well”, you sigh in defeat, seems like the time has finally come, “today’s your lucky day”, you say as you get up from his lap and turn your back — a signal for him to unzip your dress — to which, of course, he immediately complies.

“as it should be”, his crafty fingers work the slider down, slowly peeling the dress off your body and letting it fall on the floor, followed by your lace thong and bra, “it’s my birthday after all”

“the way you always find a way to make things go your way gets on my nerves so much”, you turn around again and push him on the bed and slowly climb on top of him to straddle his chest.

“make a wish before you blow the candle”, you look down at him, your pussy close to his face, the scent of you tickling his nostrils, and he, instinctively almost, takes a deeper breath, rolling his eyes back and hissing with delight.

“freak”, you quickly look away, embarrassed, but he cups your cheeks, forcing you to look at him again, “i want you to look at me as you ride my face”, his voice comes out breathy, “will you do that for the birthday boy?”

you nod into his palms, “you’re insufferable” — “suffocate me then”, he coos through a grin, grabbing your knees to pull you forward until you’re above his face.

“jerk”, you say, but softly, as you lower your cunt on his willing mouth, landing your softness on his face in slow motion, immediately earning a throaty groan from him that shudders through your pussy lips.

satoru breathes deeply in and out with your heat on his mouth, the scent of you hitting his lungs and even below, reaching all the way down to his groin to further nurture his cock already throbbing in his slacks. his hand reaching down to unbuckle them slightly, to give more space for his hard-on to grow freely.

“mowe”, he muffles incoherently into your pussy, grabbing a handful of your ass cheeks to push you against his face, tilting his head up and down, jutting his jaw up and out to meet you.

you whimper at the friction, your clit bumping and rubbing against his nose as his lips are kissing your folds, his tongue slowly poking at your entrance with the tip before darting in — twirling around your walls — and out.

“nghh…s-sa-t-to—”, you barely cry out his name, tugging at his hair, mercilessly pulling him into your heat. as much as you hated to admit it, you loved this position. your embarrassment long gone and forgotten, you ride his face in a haze, your pussy getting wetter against his mouth and your movements — faster and harder each moment.

“heawen on my fongwue”, he groans. if he could speak properly right now, he would probably make the nastiest, dirtiest remarks, shamelessly walk you through every single thing he was feeling as you rocked your hips back and forth, grinding on his face. he would probably say something about your boobs, too. how they looked so pretty jiggling ever so slightly from the movement. he can’t speak right now, yes, but he can still get his thoughts reach you through actions — his hands run along your belly, gripping your breasts from below, squeezing and squishing them inside of his palms.

you clutch his hands with yours, “i can’t hold this position for too long”, and force them down on your hips for support. you hear him say something through a loud groan but it’s barely recognizable — most likely just him cursing “fuck” and “baby” from pleasure under your pussy, but also from the ego boost you just gave him — that he can make you weak but at the same time desperate enough to want to continue — despite your hips giving up — not only with his cock but his mouth alone, too.

you let him take over as you chase your high, weighing on his face as his hands grip on your hips, dictating your every move, composing the tune of your hips. his tongue is no more sliding in and out as he makes you grind harder on his face — it stays in, continuously licking your sweet spot clean.

“f-fuck, fuck, fuck…”, you curse loudly, reaching your hands to grab the head of the bed and hammer your pussy harder into his face, squeezing every last drop of strength left in your already cramping muscles until you cum, shuddering on his mouth.

“mfff”, he groans throatily into your hole, sucking and slurping your juices. his hips buck in the air, helplessly searching for friction to soothe his aching cock. his half-unbuckled pants are drenched with precum, leaking out from his tip through his boxers and out through the cloth of his pants, visibly staining them.

you can’t see but it’s easy to figure out from the way the bed bounces up and down as his ass meets the mattress after every time his hips fall down. “how cute”, you utter as you try to calm down your breathing, cunt still resting over his face.

his eyes are half closed, rolling back and hiding their blue away. all he needs is a little push, a little rub, you know it. you know it by the way his tongue has stopped moving inside you, by the way his hands have loosened the grip on your flesh, by the way his shortened moans have grown into one long and steady groan coming from the bottom of his throat — his entire brain solely focused on the muscles of his lower body that is searching, almost beggingly, for relief.

you lean your upper body back a little, just enough to make it easier to reach his shaft while still sitting on his face. “since you’re the birthday boy”, you drag your words out as you place your hand on his clothed cock, feeling the wetness that’s emerged from beneath against your palm, “i’ll give you a hand.”

his ass cheeks tense and squeeze as he presses his hips against your touch, ferociously rubbing his clothed cock on the flesh of your open palm. his groans get louder as he bucks his hips under your hand, pushing them up to meet your hand harder and faster each time — just the way he forces his cock into your tight cunt as he nears — until the last three thrusts that he always prolongs in order to properly and completely pump his seed out.

the inside of your hand feels hot against his clothed cock as he seeps himself out, the stickiness of his cum absorbing itself into the material of his pants and emerging through it to reach the skin of your palm.

you lift yourself up a little only to plop your body down next to his. his mouth, cheeks, chin, even his nose, are covered in his spit and your cum, all mixed in.

“shit, baby”, he laughs, breathing deeply in and out of his mouth, overwhelmed by the whole experience, “what the hell did you just do to me”

“do you really need me to verbalize what just happened”

“yes”

“no”, you slap his cheek with the back of your hand, softly, before rolling on your side to rest your head on the left side of his chest, kissing it tenderly. “happy birthday”

“it really is”, he whispers, tracing a heart shape over the skin of your exposed cheek with his fingertip, “with you, it always is”

“did your wish come true by any chance?”, you tilt your head to look at him.

“not yet. but i’ll work on it later tonight. for now, i’ll let you catch your breath”

“wait, wait.”, you raise a brow, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“my love”, he clears his throat, “do you remember how i said, when we first met, that you’d be the mother of my children?”

“yea? am i not?”

“children”, he stresses.

“oh.”, it finally hits you.

“one more to go”

#ઈઉ — ai writes #[ ♡ ] — satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut

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guiltyc0nscience · 4 months ago

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⋆˙⟡ yapper, chris sturniolo

chris sturniolo x fem!reader

synopsis. in which chris is yapping away with his fingers in your mouth because you kept interrupting him.

warnings. gagging, suggestive but no smut.

authors note. this has been sitting in my drafts for quite some time, i completely forgot about this.

“there’s so much shit i need to do for my brand tomorrow, like-“ chris says but being cut off by your voice for the fifth time and he’s only been talking for ten minutes.

“oh my god. i’m so excited for you to release the new items, they’re all so cute.” you gush with excitement as you think about the baby tees and hoodies chris has designed.

“yeah. i think this will be the-“ chris attempts to talk but gets cut off by you, yet again.

“that baby pink baby tee? that looks like heaven. it’s so cute, i can’t wait to-.” you say, but quickly stop as you turn to chris and see the unamused look on his face.

“what’s the problem, baby?” you ask furrowing your brows.

“you. you’re the problem at the moment, actually.” he says with a smirk growing on his face as he trails his hand up your arm, holding his hand in place when it reaches your jaw, “you’ve interrupted me so many times.” he whispers, leaning his face closer to yours as he moves his ring and middle finger up to yours lips.

you and chris kept intense eye contact as he pushes his fingers into your mouth until the lay flat in the middle of your tongue.

his finger’s sit in your mouth for a moment before he pushes them the slightest bit further in. “i swear you never let me talk.” his icy blue eyes stay locked on yours as he moves his fingers just a little more.

when he finally stills his fingers in your mouth, you attempt to talk again, “i do, i let you talk all the time” you try to say but it comes out muffled.

“all the time?” chris repeats back with a scoff, his fingers moving ever so slightly in your mouth, clearly not believing you. he knows you don’t ever let him talk. he just loves any excuse to tease you.

“maybe not all the time, but most of the time” you say but when you do chris plunges his fingers to the back of your throat, causing you to gag on his fingers and tears fill your eyes. and when they do chris pulls his fingers back to sit on your tongue, “now let me talk” he says.

his fingers sit with a little more pressure on your tongue as he waits for you to nod in agreement, watching the tears form in your eyes as you try to recover from the gag. he knows you’ll agree, you always agree.

you slowly nod your head. chris smirks then continues talking, “now you’re finally letting me get a word in. so yeah, the new drop is in about two weeks so i have a bunch of shit i need to sort between now and then.”

his fingers sit still in your mouth as he talks, his other hand that’s around your waist moving up and down your side gently. while his fingers don’t move, they do apply more pressure as he talks, making it harder and harder for you to concentrate on what he’s saying.

chris has yapped and yapped for the past 15 minutes with no interruptions, due to obvious reasons.

you let out a hum as chris brings up something you really want to talk about, but he glares at you and pushes his fingers further down your throat, causing you to gag again.

he smirks as you gag around his fingers again, he’s got such power over you at the moment as he’s in full control. every time you moan, hum, or try to say something, he gags you again. he knows there’s something you want to ask, and he finds this whole situation way too amusing, “there something you want to say, baby?” he taunts with a sly smirk on his face.

he watches intently as you hum and moan around his fingers, his smirk never leaving his face. he loves how powerless you are right now. no matter how hard you try to talk, his fingers will always stop you, and it makes him so amused. he knows that there’s something you want to ask, and he’s fully enjoying taunting you.

“sorry baby, it’s my turn to talk. not yours. but you’ll get your chance later, just not now.” he says in a mocking tone. chris lets out a small chuckle as he watches you struggle. he knows how badly you want to ask him the question, but he’s loving this too much to give you the chance too. “you’re just gonna have to wait a while, baby. i still have more to say. don’t worry.”

he continues rambling on for another ten minutes. this time he only had to gag you twice, unlike last time he had to do it countless times. you really wanted to talk so you brung your hand up to chris’ hand that is in your mouth and attempt to pull it away from your mouth, which chris doesn’t like.

as soon as your hand comes up to his, he pulls it back and pushes his fingers even further in your mouth, his smirk growing as he watches you. he lets out a small huff, “no, princess, don’t try that. this is my turn to talk, not yours. you don’t listen. i have to remind you who’s in charge, don’t i?” he says in a mocking tone.

you look up at him with pleading eyes, silently begging him to let you talk.

chris looks down at you, seeing your pleading eyes and he feels his heart fluttering. every time you look at him like that, he just wants to give in and do anything for you. but not this time, though. no, no, no. right now he’s enjoying how much control he has, and he isn’t giving that up. “ah, princess, baby. stop looking at me like that. that’s not gonna work this time. i’m in charge right now.”

your body deflates when he says that. you really thought chris was going to let talk this time, but you were wrong.

chris notices your body deflates, seeing you give up. he lets out a soft chuckle; the whole situation was so amusing to him. he’s got you right where he wants you - at his mercy. he loves having power over you like this; it’s such a huge turn on for him. he can’t help but tease you a little bit more. “aww, princess. did you really think i was gonna let you talk? after all the times you’ve cut me off? that’s really cute.”

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prongsx · 4 months ago

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who are your boyfriend?

Even though you talk a lot about your sweet boyfriend, people don't understand the sign.

Warnins: English is not my first language, there will probably be mistakes, I'm more grammatically correct in my language I swear lol, f!reader, just a silly idea I had.

You're a person who talks a lot about your boyfriend, not that it's your intention to show him off or look like you're obsessed with him (maybe a little), but still, it seems inevitable to quote Jason Todd in your social circles, especially in the work.

It's a good work environment, your colleagues are nice, and you like to be communicative. However, the new co-worker, Adam, seems to be a little too friendly, your colleagues have already noticed this, but you dont notice this, lost in your own thoughts about your boyfriend.

The thing is, Adam has concluded that your boyfriend is an idiot, he listens to you talking about him, and the only conclusion he can draw is that you're dating a stupid nerd who lives in his mother's basement. It started weeks ago when you arrived with a jar of colorful cookies, offering it to your colleagues with a silly smile and saying.

"Jaybean did, does anyone want it? It's his grandfather's recipe"

Adam laughed internally at that. It wasn't right, you were too pretty to date such a weird guy who was definitely supposed to be short, skinny and silly, what kind of man cooked colored cookies? Or even worse, let yourself be called a "jaybean"?

The next day, he overheard you talking to your friend, in a worried tone, about how your boyfriend was about having physically fought with his younger brother, which only added to the comical image Adam had of his boyfriend. Definitely the guy was a banana. What kind of guy would let his little brother hit him?

Around the football season, Adam decided to show you what a real man was and ask you out, showing you the tickets he got. He called you a doll, which you registered with a slight frown.

"um, thanks Adam, but my boyfriend doesn't like football very much. And this week we're going to an arts fair in New York."

Adam let out a stilted giggle that you didn't seem to notice, the thoughts of him again calling your boyfriend stupid. Seriously, art fair? Didn't like sports?

There were other, clearer signs of how pathetic your boyfriend was, according to Adam, like when you commented that he had sewn a blouse of yours. (you didn't say that Jaosn's talent with sewing came from the fact that he sewed his battle wounds himself). Or when you called him cute nicknames.

Adam wanted to show you what he really wanted to date a guy, a real man, who had muscuslos and knew how to beat someone to protect you.

The fuse for Adam was when he approached your desk and saw a book by Jane Austen and asked, avoiding making a face at such a syrupy book.

"Do you like classics, doll?"

You looked up from the computer where you typed, a slight smile on your lips as you stared at the book brevmenete.

"A little. My boyfriend likes it, so I promised I'd try to read it. I prefer fiction books"

Adam's face drooped, you were really dating a stupid guy, you deserved to meet a real man. He rested his hands on your desk and puffed out his chest.

"You know, doll, you can get more."

You blinked your eyes limply, confused.

"Excuse me?"

"There are men… for real."

There was an arrogant smile on Adam, which you didn't like, not at all. Your posture became tense, prepared to reject him, by hook or by crook. But a voice, hoarse and thick, woke you both from the uncomfortable exchange of looks.

"Am I getting in the way?"

Adam turned, his eyes narrowing at the sight. There was a tall guy, much taller than himself, who even in a leather jacket could see his muscles. The guy had messy black hair and scars that gave him a tough look, even his blue eyes seemed like a warning, a warning to stay away. Adam was about to ask what he was doing there when your voice came out loud and contented.

"Jaybird!"

Adam stood still, his mouth wide open as that intimidating man gave you a soft smile and squeezed your waist, a chaste kiss on the forehead. By no means was that guy stupid of your boyfriend.

"That's adam," you said, a half-annoyed expression on my face, which softened when she turned her eyes to Jason.

Jason just gave Adam a suspicious look, not bothering to spend time with him before grabbing your bag and giving you another kiss on the cheek, whispering.

"Ready to go, honey?"

You nodded, smiling. Saying goodbye with a slight nod to Adam, as you told for your sweet, gentle boyfriend about your day, whose acts were what really drew you in.

Just a silly thing I thought about while analyzing the things that betrayed me about Jason. Adam is just one of those guys who think women are attracted to things that – they – think should attract them. Jason is just a grandpa's little boy who has learned how to be a gentleman right under that rough surface.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd #red hood x reader #fluff #batfamily #dc comics #fanfic

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prettyboykatsuki · 4 months ago

Text

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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