#there is one car I won’t be picking

[milo-is-rambling]

Omg yesterday at my moms therapy I said how well I had been doing and feeling like I can actually handle life and my mom was immediately like “that’s because you’ve been taking your meds regularly again” and like completely brushed off any progress I had actually made and I had to be like yeah totally that’s it that’s why exactly when I haven’t taken my meds for a week straight in idk how long

[laomelettedufromage]

Fuck it.

Lexi. If you even care.

[gojonanami]

❝ 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 !! ❞

❝ WHEN YOUR CHILDHOOD BEST FRIEND OFFERS TO TEACH YOU HOW TO LOVE, HOW CAN YOU SAY NO ?? ❞

✧ pairing: college student!yuji itadori x f!reader

✧ summary: yuji itadori has been your best friend since you were kids, and when he offers you to teach you how to fuck, you don't expect him to be able to find his way into your heart too.

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, aged up characters (don't like? don't read), childhood best friends to fwb to lovers, college au! (no curses), reader is the same age as yuji (both 20s), grew up as neighbors, mutual pining, nobara playing cupid, jealous!yuji, yuji is so golden retriever bf, nightmares, mentions of parental death via car crash (yuji), adoptive dad nanamin :), nipple play, oral (f + m), fingering (f! receiving), handjob (m! receiving), semi public sex (under a blanket with sleeping friends nearby), sex (p in v), creampie, swearing, fanart by unknown artist (found on pinterest, pls let me know if you know the og artist so i can credit)

✧ wc: 13,544

✧ for my 2k celebration event: item 5 has been sold to two anons!

“You want me to teach you?” 

The words left your best friend’s lips nonchalantly as if he was asking you if you wanted him to teach you how to ride a bike. 

But that’s not what he was offering to have you ride—

“Yuji,” you say slowly, “what are you saying? Do you even know what you’re saying?” 

Yuji Itadori was dense, but you knew he was far from stupid. You learned that in third grade when he punched a bully that had been picking on you, the final straw being when he had tripped you, causing you to skin your knee. Before you could even well any tears up in your eyes, you heard a thwack and a yelp as Yuji had laid the boy out on the playground. You stared at Yuji, as he offered you his other hand to help you to your feet, as your eyes slid from him to your bully. 

Yuji knelt down, carrying you on his back to the nurse’s office, “but Yuji, what about him? We left him—“ 

And he set you down outside the nurse’s office — and he only smiled that wide smile he had always reserved for you, “Don’t worry — I made sure no one was looking.” 

But now, you were beginning to doubt his sanity, rather than his intelligence — “I know what I’m saying,” he chuckles, trademark smile on his lips, “I’m just offering you the chance to practice,” 

“This isn’t practicing a sport or test—you’re offering,” you shift on your bed, while Yuji lounges on the floor, back against the bottom of your bed, “you’re offering to sleep with me, Yuji,” he leans his head on your bed, looking up at you at way, your face upside in his vision. 

“I know, I know, but it’s not a big deal is it?” he’s acting so nonchalant you wonder if one of his teammates had hit him hard in the head during practice, “we’ve had all our firsts together,” 

You scoff, “That was like our first steps, first day of school, first drink—“ 

“First kiss—“ he interrupts, and your face burns at the memory — a preadolescent game gone wrong that ended up with you and Yuji sharing your first kiss when you were teens. 

“That wasn’t real,” you wave him off, crossing your arms, “and this isn’t just a kiss for a game—this could change our friendship—“ 

“It won’t, if we don’t let it,” his gaze is more serious than you’ve ever seen Yuji be — not when he was usually all wide smiles and enthusiasm, “it’s us, we can get through it, and we don’t have to let it get weird right?” 

You chew on your lip, “Yuji, what do you get out of it?” And he’s tilting his head at your question— “I mean you don’t have to do this — just because I’m insecure because I don’t have experience,” you mumble. 

And that’s how the conversation had started — your complaints about your friends talking about their boyfriends, exes, and hookups, while you just nodded along — far too aware that you hadn’t even had a proper kiss, much less sex. And now you had found yourself here. 

“Look,” he slides up to sit on your bed, a good distance away from you, his eyes finding yours — warm hazel that felt as if it was drizzling over your skin wherever his gaze traveled, “I want your first time to be safe. I don’t want you to just hook up with someone and something bad to happen because you can’t say no — with me,” he clenched his hand into a fist holding his other hand flat as he gently hit his fist against it, “you can tell me to stop and if I somehow don’t or don’t hear you, punch me,” 

You snort, “Yuji,” he’s shaking his head. 

“I’m serious, I want you to be safe,” and you’re fidgeting with your fingers in your lap — this was Yuji, Yuji — you couldn’t say you hadn’t noticed how well he had grown up. Not when all of your friends drooled over him — especially with how liked he was — by everyone. 

“What if I lose you?” And he chuckles, as he breaches your personal space and his hand brushes yours. 

“You won’t, ever. I promise,” and your breath catches — many millions of times had Yuji touched you throughout your lives — an arm over over your shoulder, a hug, even holding your hand through crowds during festivals — but a simple brush of his fingers against yours had your heart rattling against its bony enclosure, begging for you to let it out, “what do ya think?” 

And you’re thinking — this would be the best outcome — you weren’t one to hook up with a stranger and you were burnt out on dead end dating app conversations, and to have your first time with someone close, someone you knew — it would be ideal. 

“Are you sure?” And his lips curl into a soft smile, leaning closer, as his fingers gently brush against your locks. 

“Would I be here like this if I wasn’t?” his breath warms your lips, as his fingers skim your cheek, “is this okay?” 

You nod wordlessly, unable to find the words to even reply — you had never thought of this situation would ever happen — especially like this. You lean against his hand, calloused from his practices, but as gentle as it always was. 

“We can take it as slow as you need,” he murmurs, as he’s even closer now, your eyes fluttering shut, only for his lips to graze your forehead. You pause at the featherlight touch — wondering if it actually happened when your eyes open to find his, “no need to rush, right?” He smiles, as he gets to his feet, “are we still on for tomorrow’s study session?” 

“Of course,” 

He scratches the back of his head, “Good because I still don’t understand math or why I need it, but unfortunately, I still have to pass,” he grabs his bag, “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he offers a smile before he’s gone. 

And you’re left sitting on your bed, the warmth of his touch still on your skin, wondering what the fuck just even happened. 

“Yuji, you just have to solve for x,” you sigh, explaining the problem for the billionth time, as his pen waves back forth between two fingers, “it’s simple,” 

Your weekly study sessions with Yuji were a constant throughout your life, though more for Yuji than you. Yuji is very intelligent, despite his demeanor in class where it felt as if there was a perpetual question mark over his head — he just learned by seeing and then doing. And the repetition helped you all the same. But you had never felt so conscious sitting next to the boy you called your best friend. 

“Maybe to you, but I don’t why math has to involve letters,” he wrinkled his nose at the problem, sighing, as he twists the pen around his hand, and your eyes catch the movement — you didn’t know how the little boy’s whose hands you used to hold had gotten so big now — calloused from his practices, but so soft against your skin,  “is something interesting about my hands?” 

Your eyes snap up to meet his, cheeks burning as you shake your head, “No, just, uh, impressed that you can twist the pen around your hand like that,” 

“Oh, that?” he’s as unfazed as usual, leaning back a little, “that’s easy. I could show you if you want,” 

“It’s fine,” and you’re trying to focus back on the problem, when you find him still staring, “what is it?” 

“If you wanted to hold my hand, you just had to ask,” his fingers graze yours, with enough time for you to pull away, before his fingers lace with yours, “and we can do more if you want?” 

This was crazy — it was probably a mistake, but — as his touch made your heart flutter, warm rolling in waves that erupted into butterflies in your stomach — why weren’t you pulling away? 

“What does more entail?” and he inches a little closer, his breath warming your lips, “but you still haven’t gotten this problem down, are you just trying to get out of studying?” 

A chuckle on his lips, “Maybe I’m just looking for the right motivation, so how about we make a deal?” He moves over, spreading his legs apart, and pats the floor in front of you — for each question I get right, I get a kiss,”

And why you agreed to this, you really didn’t have words—but now you were sat between his legs, nearly in his lap, as he leaned forward — his chest against your back as his chin brushed your shoulder and his cheek brushed against your own, breath warming your neck — trying to get a better look at the math problem. His arm was wrapped around your side as his pen scratched against the scrap paper, trying to solve the problem. You bit your lip, trying your best not to glance at him, but you spot his wrinkled brow out of the corner of his lip and the tip of his tongue poking ever so slightly out of his mouth— and your lips curled, he still had that habit from when you were kids. 

“There, I think I solved it,” he murmurs, and you have to hold back a shiver at the words rumbled against your ear, “is it right?” 

And god, you could barely think, much less do math, but as you glance over the question and answer — he’s got it right.  

Fuck. 

“It is,” you say softly, “is all you need some motivation? Because I would have just promised I would go to see the next Human Earthworm movie,” 

He chuckles, his lips nearly against your ear, as his hand gently traces your jaw, “I’d like that, but I think i rather have what I was promised, as long as you’re still okay with that,” 

Your breath hitches, as you follow his lead, rough pads still so gentle against your cheek, as your eyes find his, but you don’t find his usual doe eyes — but instead find pools of lust threatening to drag you under. Although from the way your lips part and eyes flutter shut, perhaps he had you underwater for far longer than you even knew. 

His lips graze yours — it’s barely a kiss, a peck maybe — as he does his best to ease you in. You didn’t know lips could be so soft — meeting again and again, stealing logic from your mind and breath from your lungs. 

“Are you okay?” He’s murmuring, not even a breath away from your lips. You’re nearly dizzy, mind reeling from his touch, heart jumping at his thumb rubbing lightly against your cheek. 

“I am, just a little strange to be kissing, much less you,” and his brow knits together, “but not bad at all,” you add, and he chuckles, his fingers grazing your cheek firmer, as he leans in again, “we said one kiss—“ 

“Do you really want to stop now?” he’s murmuring, and your noses bump against each other. 

Your lips find his again and now you can taste the sour candy he had stolen from you, but an overwhelming sweetness overrides it, and your hand brushes against his cheek, the other finding purchase on his chest.

“Is that okay?” You murmur, as you lips part, the two of you catching your breath, your shared pants filling the silence, your cheeks burning as your eyes avert from his, “I don’t know—“ 

“You’re fine, don’t worry about it,” a small chuckle on his lips, fingers cupping your chin to guide your gaze back to his — a subtle heat that makes your insides turn to molasses, sticky and sweet and far too warm, “just do what feels right, ok?” 

And his lips find yours again, gently as he did the first time, but more passion behind it, swallowing your quiet murmur of his name with ease. Your lips move against his just as his did — you try to push aside the thoughts of whether you were doing this right. But the slight brush of his teeth against your bottom lip makes you forget too with a gasp. 

He pulls away with a grin on his lips, “Sorry, couldn’t resist,” and his lips are kissed red, your thumb brushed against his swollen lips, “don’t tempt me more,” 

“You’re the one who started this, shouldn’t you take some responsibility, Yu?” your lips graze his cheek, curling as a rosy flush settles over his cheekbones, “nothing to say?” 

“You’re making it hard for me to hold back,” and he’s burying his face in the side of your neck, making you shiver, as he pulls you even closer, arms around your waist, “I don’t want to rush you,” 

Cute, you think before you even think, and yet the way his face is hidden away in your neck, breath warming your neck makes your body flush, and when have you ever thought of Yuji as cute? And yet you couldn’t remember a time that he made your heart race either. 

His lips press a small kiss to your neck, drawing a yelp from your lips, “Yuji—“ he’s nosing the hollow of your throat, “ah, you’re teasing me,” you whine, and he’s lifting his gaze back to yours, heavy with want, a want that leaves you bereft of any semblance of sense. 

“You started it,” he murmurs, before he finds your lips in another kiss — this time it’s a slow heat, languid as it threatens to burn both of you alive, flames licking at the edges of your reason. And his phone goes off — a reminder for practice that he groans at, “I should go. I have to go run laps,” 

“Now?” And he’s slowly disentangling himself from you, the absence of his touch lingers, the heat ebbing, “don’t you usually practice in the mornings?” You get to your feet slowly as well, handing him his math notebook, and it occurs to you when you spot the puddles outside, “it was too wet,” 

And he nods, scratching the back of his head, as the two of you walk out into your apartment’s living space, “and I forgot my protein shake—“ you head over to the kitchen, opening the refrigerator door and pulling out his shake, and he blinks, “how—“ 

“You did the same thing last week, so I just bought a pack for you,” and his lips curl as he walks over and takes the bottle from your hand, fingers brushing — and even that much alight a flutter of nerves through your body. 

“Thanks,” he grins, and you nod. 

“Of course, I thought it just made sense since you come here every week—” you turn to shut the refrigerator, before turning back, only to find him stepping a bit closer, “Yu—“ 

“I almost forgot, one more lesson,” and he’s leaning close, and your breath catches in your throat, as his lips brush yours, fingers tracing the swell of your cheek, “a kiss goodbye,” and he parts, a brush of his fingers against yours, “I’ll text you later,” and he’s gone in a flash. 

Your left, fingertips touching your lips, a questioning lingering as he left — whether these feelings blooming in your chest were just from the kiss, or something more. 

But you glance at your phone — a text from Yuji: 

Golden Retriever Bestie: thanks for the drink again :)

You lock the screen — but you couldn’t hope for more, right? Not when this was started with the intention of stopping. But why—as you laid back into bed, staring up at your ceiling in the same room the two of you had spent the last two years watching movies or studying in, eyes squeezing shut—

Why did you still want more? 

When did Yuji Itadori fall in love with you? It would probably be easier for him to list the moments he hadn’t fallen for you — but the earliest he can remember was when he had hurt himself climbing a tree in the schoolyard, falling from the branch he had made it to. You had been watching him the whole time, telling him to come down, and when he fell, you were at his side. His vision was a little blurry but when it cleared, he saw you knelt above him, big tears leaving your eyes. And when he came to, you hugged him tight, before helping him to the nurse’s. You had even insisted on bandaging his cuts, not letting the nurse do so. 

And that’s when he knew — he knew he always wanted to wake to you beside him. 

“You what?” Nobara scoffed at him, as she held up another of her new purchases in front of her while looking in her full length mirror, “so instead of asking her out and confession this pathetic crush—“ 

“Pathetic is kinda harsh, Kugisaki—“ 

“It’s been over a decade — your one sided feelings is now in secondary school — it’s officially pathetic,” she hangs up the new leather jacket she bought in her closet, before turning to Yuji, “so instead of confessing, you asked her to be your friends with benefits—“ 

“That’s not exactly—“ she cuts him off with a look, “ok that’s kind of what I did,” he shakes his head, “she was venting about how she never had her first kiss and words started coming out of my mouth and wouldn’t stop—“ 

“Not the first time that’s happened to you is it?” And Yuji glares at her through the mirror, “what? You came to me instead of Fushiguro because you wanted a pretty girl’s opinion right?” 

“I said girl, nothing about—“ it was her turn to glare at him, “alright, alright — what do I do now? I want to tell her I like her, but if I do, I might seem like a—“ 

“A creep? A weirdo? A pervert?” 

“I was gonna say liar, but those too,” he rubbed a hand down his face, “what do I do?” 

She sighs, tucking a strand of her dyed hair behind her ear, “the only thing to do in situation like this,” 

“Tell the truth?” And she scoffs. 

“No, of course not, just use this time to make her fall for you, but that means you’ll have to use this agreement to your advantage,” she hums, “she said she wanted more experience right?” And Yuji nods, “who says it has to just be making out and sex?” 

“You want to go on a date? Fuck,” you mutter under your breath as you turn the heat of your burner down, hoping you hadn’t completely burned your omelet now as you flipped it, “I thought this was just supposed to be for the more…physical sides of things,” your cheeks burned. 

God, what the fuck. 

“I mean part of gaining experience is learning how to date, right?” And you’re placing your slightly burned omelet in the plate, as you wipe your hands off with your dishcloth, “we could go to an arcade, maybe catch a movie,” 

“Human Earthworm 4?” And you hear him chuckle over the line, and the sound makes your lips curl — it always felt like an accomplishment making him laugh, but even more so now.  

“We don’t have to—“ 

“I don’t mind,” you cut him off, and you never did — you just loved to tease him, as you always did, “they’ve grown on me,” and you didn’t know there was more room for Yuji to grow on you, you thought his roots had already went far and deep, tangled around every inch of yourself and your mind, even your heart — but now—

“Does 2 PM work? I’ll come by and pick you up from your place,” and you didn’t know where it would go but— 

“Sounds perfect,”  he had found his way into a place you never thought anyone would find themselves in. — and as he hung up, biting your bottom lip—

And it seemed he was here to stay. 

“You’re such a cheater,” you glared at Yuji as he won for the tenth time at the boxing game — hitting the max score every time, “tell me what the trick is,” 

“You know I’m strong,” Yuji gapes,  holding his arm, “how would I cheat?” And you’re pouting, crossing your arms. 

“You’re cheating by being you,” and Yuji has to bite back his smile — you were being so cute — but he knows saying that will earn him a punch in the shoulder harder than you gave the punching bag on the machine, “now you have to buy me an ice cream,” 

“For?” He raises an eyebrow. 

“For being a cheater,” and he can’t help the chuckle that leaves his lips that earns him a bunch of slaps to his arm, before he’s wrapping that same arm around your waist, your complaints chased away by a gasp, “what—“ 

“I was going to buy you anything you wanted anyway, it is a date after all,” he smiles, and you stammer, but you don’t pull away, “what flavor do you want?” After you tell him, he goes off to the concession to buy you both some ice cream, and when he finds you at a table, he sees you’re not alone. His lips are a tight line, as he finds a guy leaning against the booth you sat in, clearly flirting with you, your back to Yuji so he can’t see your face. 

He finds his way back to you, his hand brushes your shoulder gently, “is everything okay?” He asks you, meeting your gaze without regard for the stranger — and he’s glad he did, because he spots your pursed lips and darting eyes that told him everything he needed to know, “you need something?” He asks the guy, a friendly smile on his lips. 

“Not from you,” the guy scoffs, “I was talking to—“ 

“Well, you’re talking to me now, not my date, so—“ and you’re leaning into Yuji, “you need something or not?” And the guy grumbles something under his breath before slinking away, and Yuji’s sliding in beside you when you move over, “you okay?” 

“Yeah, he wouldn’t leave,” you sigh, shaking your head, “sorry—“ 

“You have nothing to be sorry about,” he murmurs, as he hands you your ice cream, “as long as you’re okay,” his arm slides around your shoulder and squeezes you, “i would’ve punched him if it wouldn’t have ruined our date,” 

You snort, as you lick your ice cream, “if you punched him harder than you did the bag, don’t know if this date would have ended with us going home,” and he pouts, as he laps at his ice cream, and he feels you turn to look at him, “Didn’t know you were the jealous type, Yu,” and he chuckles, he wanted to say — only when it came to you. 

But he knew that he couldn’t. Not like this.  

“I didn’t think I was either.” 

“Nope, not gonna admit it,” and Yuji’s grinning still, as the two of you walk out of the theater, his arm still around your shoulder, “no it wasn’t that good,” 

If there was one thing about Yuji is that movies were literally his obsession — one movie marathon when the two of you were teens had turned him into a fanatic. And he often ended up dragging you to all of them he saw in theaters — and you probably had watched the Human Earthworm movies the most amount of times anyone ever has — aside from Yuji. Well, more like you watched him watch it, because while he was smiling and laughing (or crying) at the movie, you were looking at him. 

And right now, he looked far too smug, “So you admit that it was good,” and you cross your arms, shaking your head, “I saw you tearing up at the end — I told you, it’s all about love!” 

You purse your lips, if only to hold back your smile, before sighing, “How would no one tear up at that ending?” And his hand’s grabbing yours, tugging at your arm, as the two of you walk along, “Yu—“ 

“I knew you liked it! C’mon, I knew you would, now what was your favorite part?” And your lips curl into a smile, “what?” 

That was one of the things you loved the most about Yuji, how excited he could get — how he loved everything so wholeheartedly with no reservations, and you knew he was the one person you could always count on to cheer you up. 

“Nothing, nothing,” you chuckle, letting your fingers lace with his, “my favorite part?” And you want to say — watching him enjoy the movie. 

But you can’t. 

“Probably the ending,” you slowly smile, “liked it when the credits rolled,” and he’s mock glaring, as you laugh before his arm tightening around your waist, “Yu-ji—“ 

“Not going to be honest?” He murmurs, before kissing your chin, “then maybe I’ll make you.” 

“Yu—ngh, please,” Yuji could get addicted to your taste, it was never enough, was it? His lips had spent the last twenty minutes kissing every inch of your face and neck, traversing over every nook and cranny as he always wanted to — and yet it was never enough. Any time spent with you was never enough —because you always made anything better, and nothing ever worse. 

And he knew no one else would ever feel this good. 

How many times had he imagined just this scenario? Of you in his bedroom with him alone, as you had been many times before, but never like this. You never looked at him like that before — with that shyness mixed with an undercurrent of want. And it was enough to rip him away and drag him under with you. 

“Please what, baby?” Yuji looks up with a wry smile and soft eyes that burn a path where as it raked down your body like coals across a fire, “want me to stop?” And he’s dragging a thumb down your untouched lips. 

You cover your face with the back of your hand, and he’s gently tugging it away, pressing a kiss to your wrist, your pulse jumping underneath, “I want more,” and fuck if he wasn’t at full mast from the kissing, he was now at your words, “I want you to…kiss me and…touch me,” you mumble, eyes averted, but he’s smiling all the same — you were so cute. 

“Where can I touch?” he asks softly, his nose brushing yours, “need you to tell me. I don’t want to rush—“ 

And your lips crash against his, your fingers finding the back of his neck, threading in his pink locks. He’s pausing a moment before he melts into your kiss, and you’re taking the lead, as you lean further into the kiss, your fingers sliding down from his shoulder to his chest. His tongue flicks against the seam of your lips and you part for him. 

“I want you to touch me,” you murmur as you break the kiss, panting, strings of your spit still connecting your lips, your breathy words nearly enough for him to lose all control, “I’ll tell you if I don’t like it,” 

And he’s more than happy to oblige, his lips find yours in a bruising kiss, his hand toys with the hem of your shirt as permission, and you part from the kiss to nod. His hand slides up your soft flesh, pushing up your shirt along with it — finding your lacy bra underneath. He’s tugging the shirt up and over your head with your help, and god—

He has to stop himself from cumming right then and there at the sight of you. His fingers reach out, toying with the strap of your bra, “Did you wear this for me?” And you biting your bottom lip was all the answer he needed. 

“Yu—“ he’s tweaking your hardened bud through the fabric, “ah, fuck—“ and he leans down to suck the other side through your bra, while sliding down your bra strap. 

“Need to taste you,” and you’re nodding, while he’s reaching around to brush against the clasp of your bra to undo it, and his cock twitches at the sight of your bare skin — you’re so fucking pretty. 

He always thought you were pretty — when you were kids drenched from running around in the rain, when you were just waking up from a nap with your hair askew and dried drool in the corner of your mouth, when your eyes were wide with excitement and nearly jumping up and down to tell him good news; and when you’re smiling—especially when you’re smiling. 

It was his favorite thing. 

“Don’t stare so much,” you’re trying cover yourself, but his hands catch yours, easing them off, “It’s embarrassing—“ 

“You’re perfect,” and your lips part but no words come, but you can’t meet his gaze, “you are—“ 

“You’re just saying that—“ and his fingers pinch your nipple drawing a gasp from your lips, while he leans down and takes the other in his mouth. His eyes find yours, blown into deep, dark pools by his lust — ones you’d be more than willing to drown in. 

“I’d never just say that, especially to you, baby,” and you’re about to make a smart remark about him calling you ‘baby.’ But you forget every word you ever learned when his fingers start to drag down your stomach, fingers playing with the button of your jeans, “can I?” 

And you nod, your back arching ever so slightly as his lips press a sweet kiss to your bellybutton. He’s kissing down your soft legs as he tugs down your jeans — one to your thigh, another to your knee, and another to your ankle —before he’s kissing up the other. 

“How’s that feel?” he murmurs, eyes flitting up to meet yours, and fuck, your lips parted and swollen a pretty red, eyes half lidded with want, and — as his eyes fall between your thighs — a growing wet spot on your panties. 

His fingers toy with the elastic, snapping it lightly against your skin, a slight flinch only, as his eyes gaze at your clothed cunt with near reverence. He looks for permission, before he leans in to press a kiss to your swollen clit, a small yelp escaping your mouth. 

“Yuji,” you whine, lifting your head to meet his gaze again, “please,” 

“Say my name again, please,” he’s kissing your thigh gently, and it feels as if you’ll crumble under his touch any second, wither away in a figment of his imagination, and he won’t ever get the chance to hear you like this again, much less touch you. He was selfish to take advantage like this — and he knew he was — but he couldn’t leave it like this.

“Yuji, just touch me—“ and your head falls back as his fingers graze your clit through your nearly translucent underwear, “ngh, you fucker—“ and he’s chuckling, as he tugs your panties away. 

“Wanted to keep them on since you looked so good, but,” and he’s pocketing them with a grin, “I’ll just keep them instead,” your dripping walls twitch at the thought, “s’good for me. What do you want, my fingers or my tongue?” 

“Fuck, I don’t know, just touch—“ and your head lolls against the pillow as his tongue drags up flat up the length of your weeping pussy. 

“You’re so sweet — I could live here,” he murmurs, as his fingers spread your slick folds, a pretty moan falling from your lips as he does, “can’t wait to feel you cum around my fingers,” he’s easing a finger in — and you’re so tight, you’re tensing as he tries to part your walls, “relax, ok? I’ll be gentle. Don’t worry. I won’t ever hurt you,” his eyes meet yours and you’re nodding, as he pulls his finger away, a shiver at the empty ache, but it falls away into another moan as his tongue replaces it. 

The wet squelch of your folds is enough for him to cum right there — you smell as sweet as you taste, as he kisses your clit, before dragging the length of his tongue over your sopping slit again, “Yuji—fuck—“ your fingers find purchase in his pink locks right when he decides to sink a finger inside you again. 

“That’s it,” he grunts, as he works his finger knuckle deep into you, “so good f’me, so tight,” he’s murmuring, and your syrupy walls wrapped around his finger makes him wonder how good it will feel when his cock is inside you. He’s palming his erection through his pants, desperate for any kind of fucking friction, “g’nna add another,” 

And you’re nodding, “please, I—“ and a second finger joins the first, and the lewd noises grow louder from your slick and his fingers begin to pump faster — teasing and stretching your walls as they begin to flutter around you, “Yuji, Yuji—“ his name leaves your lips like a prayer, but he’s the one who would worship at your feet, if you’d let him, your moans and whimpers were all he needed to survive, and he’d give his very soul if it meant he could be at your side. 

His fingers are fucking you open, the tips of his fingers brushing against the spot that his your mouth falling open in a silent moan, “that’s it, cum for me, pretty girl,” and pleasure rips up your spine, as you cum all over his fingers, thighs shaking as you do. He fucks you slowly through your orgasm, helping you ride it out, until he’s slowing, leaning up to prsss sweet kisses to your face. 

“I’m going to pull them out slowly,” he murmurs, your eyes still fluttered shut, but they slowly open to watch him ease his fingers from you. Soft pants leave your lips as you watch him with lidded eyes lick his fingers sticky with your release clean. 

“Are you okay?” He’s murmuring, as he moves up to lean over your face, and you’re nodding, “let me clean you up and we can sleep, ok?” he’s moving to get off the bed, but you grab his hand, and he tilts his head. 

“What about you?” You mumble, frowning, eyes flickering to the tent in his pants with a shy gaze, “I want to—“ 

“It’s okay, let’s just take it easy today,” he’s smiling, fingers finding yours and squeezing, pressing his lips to your knuckles, “you look like you’re about to pass out,” and you’re pouting all the same, but you seem to relent as the exhaustion sets in once again at your words, “I’ll be right back,” and he retreats to his bathroom to wet a washcloth, only to come back to you fast asleep. 

He chuckles at the sight of you sprawled out on his bed — a sight not uncommon to him on nights you spent over, but never like this before. He leans on the bed carefully, mattress creaking ever so slightly under his weight, as he begins to clean you gently — and luckily, you don’t wake by the time he’s done. He can’t put your jeans or underwear on so he opts to grab a pair of his freshly washed shorts and slides them on you. He adjusts the blanket, draping it over you, running his fingers through your hair to tuck it behind your ear, and the back of his knuckles over your cheek. 

“Yuji,” you mumble in your sleep, and he bites his lip — as he returns to his bathroom, softly shutting the bedroom door and the bathroom door behind him, a glaring problem to deal with, as he is still nearly waddling at this point from the grazing of his boxers against his aching erection. 

He undoes his jeans quickly, eyes fluttering as he pushes both down and strips his shirt off before slipping into the shower. The squeak of the shower faucet and the water running hopefully don’t wake you — but more importantly, he hopes his moans don’t.  

His dick was rock hard and aching still — there were so many times he nearly came in his pants, and by how drenched his boxers were — maybe he had. But fuck, you were so gorgeous, laid back and spread out for him. 

His fingers grazed his weeping cock, smearing the precum up and down his length, thumb tracing his slit, as you would. He could see you thumbing his head experimentally, as your eyes flickered up at him, doe eyes, yet glazed over with lust. It wouldn’t be long until you’re slowly pumping him, as he does now — from base to tip, teasing his balls all the same. You’d flick your tongue over the tip, sucking at the dripping precum — wrinkle your nose at the salty taste, but you’d suck at his tip all the same. 

He’d look down at you as your hand switches to toying with his balls, as you let his cock slap against your tongue, before letting his length slip past your lips. Your lips would feel so much softer than his hand does right now, jerking himself off, your plush lips and tongue wrapped around his dick. A low groan escapes his lips, as he covers his mouth, hoping you couldn’t hear him over the running water. The squelch of his precum and his soft moans would only make him want to repay the favor, making you cum over and over, until you were begging him to stop. 

Fuck, he was close, by the way his cock twitched in his hand — where would he cum with you? He’d cum anywhere you wanted — but to cum on your face or chest, the image made him shudder. Your tongue would flick out to clean up some of the cum, and—

Fuck, he moans your name, as he cums all over his fingers, his release sprayed against the tile of his shower, dripping down and mixing with the water. He’s panting, as he cleans his hand off in the shower, leaning his head back. 

What has he gotten himself into? Was it right for him to do this? You didn’t know how he felt — and he didn’t know if you would ever feel the same. But as he got dressed and crawled into bed beside you, keeping his distance as you slept, he felt you move closer, mumbling his name as you did. He couldn’t help but softly smile, running his fingers through his hair—it didn’t matter if you never ended up loving him, as long as you knew what you deserved—to be with someone who loved you, as much or even more than he did. 

He let himself drift off, a loose arm thrown over your middle—he’d let himself have this, if only for now. 

“Oh come on, you couldn’t get the ad free version, Fushiguro?” Nobara complains as yet another commercial comes on, as she glares at the black haired vet student, who sat on the floor after she stole his armchair. 

He only shrugs, bearing little to no reaction, “If you’re going to complain, then why don’t you pay for it?” 

Nobara and him begin to bicker ever so slightly, and Yuji chuckles in your ear, “are they more fun to watch then the show?” 

The four of you were at your apartment, watching a new season of a TV show you all had started last year. You were sat next to Yuji on the couch, your bodies nearly pressed against each other as you shared the blanket, a little cold from the rain outside. 

“They’re always more entertaining than the show, that’s why we agree to this,” you whisper back, the proximity of your bodies making your cheeks burn. You turn away, hoping he can’t feel or even hear the way your heart was beating down your ribs to burst free. Every time he shifted even slightly, you felt your body react — so conscious of even a twitch of his fingers — you wanted to bury yourself under the blanket. 

It had been like this since that night. 

You had woken up to him asleep beside you. Your eyes fluttered open as consciousness slowly crept into focus, sunlight filtering into sight, a small groan leaving your lips. And it wasn’t until you tried to reach for your phone you realized the thing beside you wasn’t a pillow but a person.  

Your eyes flew open and you found Yuji still sound asleep beside you. It wasn’t unusual for the two of you to sleep on the same bed — especially after a late night where one or the other didn’t want to go home — but it was different to wake up entangled with him, especially after the events of the night before came flooding back. 

And after that, each time you had been around him, you had become more and more conscious of his touch, nervous even, at the simplest of brushes of his fingers. And this? His body pressed against yours, his fingers grazing your thigh nearly, and his soft breath against your ear — god, you were going to lose it. 

“You ok?” he murmurs a half an hour later, and the question itself makes you squirm — because no, your hot best friend was pressed against you and making you want to do nothing more than kiss him— 

Wait, wait, hot? Your mind stutters at your own thoughts, lagging to comprehend yourself — hot? You wanted to kiss him? You always knew Yuji was hot, he was objectively — especially based on how many of your friends had wanted you to hook them up with him — but you had never thought of him that way. Maybe in passing — but to you, that was the one line you could never cross, especially when you had seen so many friendships fall apart because of a relationship. 

You never wanted to risk Yuji like that. 

But then here you were — blurring that line you said you never cross — and letting the ground split underneath the two of you. 

“I’m fine,” you mumble back — and yet here he was, seemingly unfazed by your proximity and as the minutes ticked by, it began to eat away at you. Did he not find it as meaningful as you did? Did he not feel as good as you? Do you need to touch him just to make him feel just as heartsick as you were? 

And now you know what you wanted to do. 

As the show went on, Nobara and Fushiguro fell asleep — Fushiguro asleep with a cushion he had stolen from Nobara’s armchair and Nobara curled up in said armchair, passed out. 

“Should we stop the show and go to bed?” Yuji asks you, albeit innocently — but there was anything but innocent intentions in your mind when you shake your head, a smile on your lips. 

“Let’s keep watching,” your fingers grazes his thigh, as you lean over, lips nearly brushing against his ear, “it’s just getting interesting, right?” 

And his breath hitches, “what’re you—“ and your fingers inches higher, grazing over his already tenting erection, a hiss escapes his lips, as he’s covering his mouth. 

“Shh, don’t wake them,” and your fingers are ghosting and teasing over his cock, the precum already starting to seep through the fabric, as he shifts under your touch. Your thumb flicks over his head, now fully hard, “so big already,” you mumble, and now your lips press sweet kisses to his neck, finding small cuts and bruises from his practices, and a gasp escaped his lips. 

“We shouldn’t be doing this—“ and your lips find his, and he melts so easily into your touch, your fingers toy with the elastic of his shorts, his eyes flickering to the two sleeping. He’s pulling away for a breath, lips utterly ruined — his fingers running through his hair, “please—“ and your lips curl. 

Your fingers finally brush against his leaking cock, and his head falls back, his cheeks flushed a pretty pink, lips parted as soft pants left his lips. And you’re nearly shivering yourself at his want — seeping into your own body, as his pants and moans send a wave of heat between your thighs. 

You rub your thighs together, as you shift even closer somehow, “Gotta be quiet Yu — they can hear us after all,” you murmur, right as your thumb swipes over his slit, a yelp caught in his throat, as his hand flies back to lips, “good boy,” and his dick twitches at the praise, as your finger begins to trace along his veins, “so big, how am I going to fit you inside?” you murmur, biting back a smirk when a muffled groan reaches your ears. 

Your fingers finally curl around his length, you never thought a cock to be pretty — but Yuji’s was. You stared at it under the covers, flushed a lovely red, too dripping pearly beads of precum, and the slight curve it had to it — made the ache in your cunt only grow. 

“Please, baby, I need, please—“ he’s whining, “I need you—“ 

And you oblige him, your hand beginning to spread the pre along his length, beginning to stroke him slowly from base to tip. He’s biting his lip, hard, nearly drawing blood as he chooses to bury his face in the crook of your neck, if only to muffle any moans that fell from his lips. 

“S’good for me, Yu, wanna make you feel as good as I did,” his moan vibrates against your skin, cock twitching in your fingers, “gonna move faster, don’t want our friends to see you like this, do you? You have to be quiet,” and god, why did only seem to get harder at your words? 

Your fingers begin to jerk him off in earnest, the wet squelch of his cock nearly not hidden enough by the volume of the TV, but nearly don’t care at this point — you just want him to fall apart under your touch, need him to. 

And oh, he’s so close. His groans are more frequent, his hips jerking against your fist, and when your other hand finds his balls, squeezing — it’s too much. 

He moans softly, “I’m—“ and that’s all he manages before he spills on your fingers — warm, white spurts splatter against your palm and the blanket, dripping, as he falls back, limp against the sofa. His cock softened in your hand, as you pull it away, before gently wiping him clean with the already drenched blanket. 

He’s panting and fucked out, eyes half lidded as his chest rises and falls, watching you lick your fingers clear of his release, gaze never leaving his. 

“Didn’t know you’d taste this good—“ you barely can manage, before he’s leaning forward to kiss you. Your fingers slide against his cheek to cup it, feeling his hand tangle itself in your hair, “Yuji—“ 

“What was that about?” he murmurs, “not that I’m complaining but—“ but then Megumi starts to move and you both freeze, your breath catching, until Megumi seemingly falls back asleep, “we should head to bed, but—“ 

He looks at the blanket, and the mess you made of him and the couch alike. 

“The blanket I’ll toss in the washer, the cushion I’ll clean up and just turn over—“ and you smile, “and you take a shower before bed,” 

His brow still knits together, “but we haven’t—“ 

“We’ll talk later,” and when later came, Yuji found you fast asleep in bed, with more questions than answers. But he supposed, as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his answers could come later. 

How long has it been? 

You stared at your phone — as if you could will it to receive the message you’ve been waiting for. As if it would grant your one and only wish for a text or a call — but it didn’t. Instead, it only gave you a spam call and a text to let you know you had a discount code for your favorite takeout place. 

Great. 

It had been a week since you had heard from Yuji — and a week since that night. You had woken up to the other three gone — gone off to their own apartments after you had slept in and texts on your phone from them in the groupchat. It was a few days before break — before you and Yuji would be heading back home for a few days together. But you hadn’t seen him at all since — not a chance to talk, much less seeing him. 

Was he upset? Was he done with this? Was his promise to stay empty in the end? Was it your fault — for pushing it, for agreeing to it, and for falling for it all the same? Falling for it or — your eyes trace the screen of your phone as if it’s his cheek — or falling for him. 

No, you rake your fingers through your hair, no, you didn’t love him — not like that. Not the way you shouldn’t, the way you had sworn yourself never to — but maybe all promises between friends were empty, when they were made like this. 

But you weren’t made to let this break apart. 

You found yourself at his door after classes, knocking at his door of his apartment. The door opens, and you find Yuji rubbing his eyes, hair askew, and shoulders drooped. 

“Hey,” he yawned, he’s still shaking off the shackles of sleep, “sorry, what’s up?” 

“Are you okay?” Your furrow your brow, your eyes spot the dark bags under his eyes, large enough to nearly engulf his eyes all together, “you look like you haven’t slept in days,” he steps aside to let you in, you glance around, his apartment wasn’t usually the cleanest — but it wasn’t a wreck like it was now. Clothes scattered, unwashed dishes stacked up, and papers strewn about. 

“I just haven’t…been sleeping—“ and then you remember. 

It wasn’t about you. It was about him. And you were so wrapped up in yourself, you weren’t thinking about him. 

“Yuji, you’re having those nightmares again, aren’t you?” You murmur softly, and the way his gaze falls to the ground tells you everything you need to know, “alright, go lay down,” 

“What?” he’s blinking, but your hand already finds his as you take him to his bedroom, “what are you—“ 

“You lay down. I’m going to make you dinner, and then you’re going to sleep,” and he sits on the bed reluctantly, fingers against his knees, as he bit his lip. 

“I can’t sleep, I told you—“ you cup his cheek, and guide his gaze to yours. 

“Remember what we’d do when you couldn’t sleep after the accident?” 

“This feels ridiculous,” Yuji murmurs into your chest, his head buried there, while your fingers run softly through his pink locks, “we’re not six anymore—“ 

“So what? Doesn’t mean we can’t do this still,” you say, as your fingers pause, “unless you don’t want me to,” 

“I didn’t say that,” he mumbles, and you can hear the blush in his voice that undoubtedly painted his cheeks, “I just meant it feels like I’m bothering—“ 

“Yu, don’t make me pinch you,” you murmur, rubbing his head, “you’re never a bother,” you kiss his head softly without thinking, and soon your cheeks are burning too, “sorry I didn’t—“ 

“Why are you sorry?” He chuckles, “we’ve done a lot more than kiss recently,” and he adds, “especially you,” 

You bite your lip, glad he couldn’t see your face like this, “I thought that’s why you weren’t talking to me, I thought you didn’t like what I did…on the couch, you know—“ 

“I know,” he chuckles this time, “and how could I not like that?” And you swallow the lump in your throat, as the two of you fall into a comfortable silence that you choose to breach. 

“You haven’t had these nightmares in a while,” you murmur quietly, before you add, “we don’t have to talk—“ 

“I know, but it happens from time to time, especially this month,” and your brow furrows, “don’t wrinkle your forehead at me,” and you lean back to gape at him, a smile pulling at his lips, “you always do that when you find out I’m keeping something from you,” 

He moves ever so slightly away, turning to look at the ceiling, “Well I think I have a right because this is a pretty big thing to keep from me, Yu,” you pout, and your fingers begin to absentmindedly trace his jaw, his eyes fluttering shut — you always treated him so gently, like that something that could shatter, but he knew you would always be there to put him back together. Because you did that once already. Over a decade ago, “why didn’t you tell me?” 

Because he didn’t want to worry you. Because he didn’t want you to think of him still as that broken kid you watched after when he had his world fall apart. 

Because he didn’t want you to take that burden — he wanted to handle it himself. 

“I didn’t want to bother you—“ 

“It’s never a bother when it’s you,” and his voice catches in his throat — fuck, how did you always know just what to say? 

He takes a breath, “it’s just the same dream. Of the crash,” he could see something so clearly that he never experienced. He was at home with you when the crash happened — a play date Yuji had insisted on when he had cried and begged his parents to stay with you instead of going to dinner with them. They had relented — and that was the thing that left him alone. 

It was lucky that his grandfather was able to take him in, and stay close by — so he still got to go to school with you. 

“Let’s try to sleep, ok?” You murmur, “you’ll feel better when you sleep,” you cup his cheek, and he’s biting his lip, “what is it?” 

“What if I see it again?” He whispers, as if he’s afraid that his words were any louder he would speak it into existence. 

“Come here,” you say softly, your fingers gently guide his head to face you,  “I’ll keep you safe, I promise,” A sigh leaves his lips as he moves closer, letting you engulf him in your arms, his eyes shutting, and letting himself relax for a moment — the first moment in far too many days. 

When he let himself slip into sleep’s embrace—it was the first night he didn’t dream of the crash — he dreamt of you.  

And when he woke in your arms in the morning, your soft lips parted as you slept, sunlight dappled on your skin through his window, and the way your fingers held onto the fabric of his shirt — he knew, he knew he had to tell you how he felt. 

He needed to end this — his fingers brushing a strand of hair behind your ear — if only to begin something new. 

You had to end it — it hadn’t sunk in until the car drove back home. The quiet morning drive left you both in a comfortable silence, the quiet white noise of his playlist, along with Yuji’s terrible singalongs and your bickering over his music choice. And you found yourself more than once staring at him as he drove, to the point where he had caught you looking. 

“What?” He tilts his head when the light turned red, fingers drumming on the steering, the other poking your side. 

“Nothing,” and you’re playfully slapping his hand away, a smile on your lips — same smile you always had with him. Always—because he’s your best friend. But he was so much more than that. 

You were in love. 

The two of you had returned to the place where you had laid your roots to rest and let your seed scatter to the wind. Only to return as a different flower altogether — but you knew, you couldn’t let it go on. 

It had become painfully clear that morning, you had woken first, the sun had not peaked over the horizon yet, and you found Yuji fast asleep — breaths even and face relaxed. You knew his parents had scarred him deeply — he spoke of them often, but not at all at — he mentioned their presence, but never his own feelings. You knew he had a habit of putting others above himself — but you had missed this — all of this week, you could have been there for him, but you were caught up in your own thoughts and you had made it all about yourself. 

And he deserved more than that. 

He deserved more than you. 

And you couldn’t risk losing him — lose him in a stupid argument or a disagreement and then never be able to comfort him again? Never be able to be by his side? You couldn’t bear to even fathom that. 

“Nanamin was asking about you,” Yuji says as the two of you walk home from the local convenience store — a late night run that produced a familiar bag of treats the two of you always shared when you came back home. 

“Oh really? Are classes over for high school already?” The English literature teacher had taken Yuji in for his last year and half of high school after his grandfather passed, and Yuji always stayed with him on breaks. 

“He asked if you were going to come with us to see my parents tomorrow morning,” it was a tradition to go visit Yuji’s parents graves each year around this time — you always paid your respects whenever you could, “he also said you’re free to stay over, but you have to sleep in a different bedroom,” you snort, “he said and I quote ‘we are past the age of sharing a room,’” You laugh, cheeks burning as you shake your head, “he’s not exactly wrong though,” his fingers graze yours, and there’s nothing more you want than to take his hand, but you know one way or another, you’d drop it in the end. Wouldn’t it be better now? When there isn’t far to fall? 

So you do, letting your hand fall away from his. 

“I’d be happy to see your parents, but I don’t know if staying over is a good idea—“ and he’s shaking his head with a chuckle in his throat. 

“Don’t worry, I won’t do anything you don’t want to—“ 

“We should stop, Yuji,” and his smile slips off his face as if it was slapped off, he blinks, shock settling into confusion. 

“Why?” Only one word and it manages to break you all the same. 

“We just shouldn’t. This was supposed to be about teaching me, but i think I’ve learned enough,” you’re turning away, but his fingers are gently finding your wrist, “Yuji—“ 

“You don’t think I can’t tell when you’re lying?” Yuji asks, and your glass-like facade shatters so easily — why does it always have to break so readily when it comes to him? 

But you pull away all the same, “I can’t do this anymore. Not like this. I don’t want to. I can’t lose you—“ 

“You won’t lose me—“ but you’re already walking off, sparing a glance back. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow morning when we leave, Yuji,” and he’s opening his mouth to call out, but he stops himself, watching you disappear up the street. 

What just happened? 

The car ride to the cemetery is notably silent. Yuji’s eyes burned when he woke, head aching from the circles he ran around in last night, trying to figure out what happened. Nanami drives in the quiet, his eyes noting when Yuji chooses to sit passenger instead of beside you, only with one glance that’s averted after Yuji refuses to meet it. 

Yuji didn’t know what to make of what you said. After everything, he thought maybe — just maybe, you felt the same as he did. He thought he could tell you tomorrow, tell you when the two of you were alone — and even if it didn’t work out, it would be okay. 

But now — as his eyes stole a look at you in the rear view mirror, he wondered if it ever would be okay again. 

You left the car a moment to go use the bathroom when they stopped to fill gas in the car, and that’s when Nanami speaks. 

“So did you finally ask her out and she said no?” And Yuji’s head snaps to his, but Nanami only stares back, “you aren’t hard to read, Itadori. You’ve liked her for a long time,” 

Yuji scratches the back of his head, “I did something, kinda stupid,” and Nanami tilts his head, “really stupid, ok? And I was going to tell her how I felt, but she broke off what we were doing—“ 

“You weren’t dating?” Yuji’s cheeks burn as he waves off his teacher. 

“That’s not important! But what do I do, Nanamin?” the blond haired teacher raised an eyebrow. 

“It’s not hard to know what to do, Itadori. It’s what you should have done. Tell her how you feel,” and then you’re walking back to the car, “come on, let’s get back. We’re close now.” 

And your gaze avoids his own when Yuji watches you get back in the car, and his lips part as if to stop you — but he doesn’t. 

Not yet. 

You stood with Yuji as he tended to his parents’ graves. Simple stones that he was able to put in with time from his part time jobs, ones he had insisted he would pay for himself — refusing any help from anyone, even you. You knelt down, helping him clear the strewn dead leaves, brushing away dirt and snow — your fingers brushing when you both reach for the same place. 

And your eyes meet, as both of your fingers intertwine slowly — the three of you pay your respects, and Nanami finally stands. 

“I’ll wait for you two at the car,” Nanami says with a nod, leaving the two of you alone. You both already had placed offerings at their graves, arranging them slowly, as the two of you stand, the silence of the cemetery hanging overhead — light streaming in between clouds in the overcast sky, the sounds of the wind rustling the trees the only thing in the quiet. 

“Thank you for coming,” Yuji says softly, and your blink, eyes sliding to his. 

“You never have to thank me for that, Yuji,” you squeeze his hand, “as long as you want me to come, I’ll always be here. And I’ll always pay my respects to your parents, regardless of that,” you say, and that's exactly why you had to stop with him. You couldn’t bear to lose him — lose this, not when he’s lost too much and he was too much for you to lose, “come on, we should get back to the car,” as you pull your hand away from his. 

And maybe things could get back to normal. 

“I know,” and he doesn’t move as you turn to leave, “and that’s why I love you,” 

And you smile, “I love you too—“ 

“I don’t mean it like that,” and you freeze a moment, his words barely processing before he continues to speak, “I mean I do love you in that way too — but that’s not how I meant it now,” he says, as you turn to face him — not finding a hint of humor on his expression. 

“Yuji—“ your brain can barely process your best friend confessing to you — much less next to his parents’ graves— “should we be having this conversation—“ 

“It’s the perfect place to have this conversation,” he glances around at all of the graves, and he’s shaking his head, “maybe not the perfect place, but—“ his gaze softens when he finds yours, “you saved me,” 

“Yuji—“ 

“No, you did. After my parents died,” he stares at the stones side by side — “I could barely function. I barely wanted to do anything but sleep — but you, you pulled me out of bed. You made me go places. You made me smile again,” he says, “but that’s not the reason I fell in love with you,” his lips curl into a soft smile, “it’s because it’s you — your smile, your laugh, your being — it reminded me of happiness existed, and then I realized you were the only person who could make me happy the way you do,” 

“Yuji—“ 

“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same. But I don’t want to lose you, lose this chance to tell you how I feel, to tell you—“ 

“Yuji—“ 

“And I’ve always loved you — there’s never been—“ and you’re hugging him, before you even know you are, your arms are around his middle, face buried in his chest, as he murmurs your name. 

“The only reason I broke it off was,” your voice wavers despite your efforts to force it to stay even, “I didn’t to lose you by not being good enough—“ 

“You just have to be you,” his brow furrowed into the same valleys he teased you for, “you’re all I need,” his hand finds your cheek, guiding your gaze to his, “how could you think you weren’t enough?”

“You don’t tell how you feel sometimes — you don’t tell me what you’re thinking, I didn’t even know you had nightmares—“ you break off, “what if we continued this and you realized you deserved better than me? And it was already too late for me because I love—“ you break off. 

“You what?” he asks, and you’re biting your lip, “I’ll say it again if it will make you—“ 

Fuck it. 

You lean up and press your lips to his, swallowing his words as your hand finds purchase on his shoulder. And it felt right. As it always did with Yuji. 

“I love you too,” you whisper against his lips, “I love you, in the same way you do,” 

“As a friend?” And your brow furrows, “kidding! Kidding—ow!” You’re smacking him playfully, before he catches both of your wrists and pulls you close, “does that mean I can call you mine?” 

“Or baby,” and he flushes, a cute pout on his lips, “what? Isn’t it—“ and he’s kissing you again, your heart leaping as he does, his hands sliding around your hips, “Yu-“ 

“And what’s my pet name? You still haven’t given me one—“ 

“Have some decorum,” a voice cuts through, and the two of you jump apart, as Nanami stands, glaring at the two of you, “come on, if you’re done paying your respects, then we should go home,” he sighs, rubbing his temples, “the dead shouldn’t have to put up with this.” 

Yuji’s cheeks are tomato red at this point — as he covers his face— but you only chuckle, your fingers intertwining with his, squeezing, “c’mon let’s go, and maybe I can give you a pet name when we get home,” and you both turn to face his parents, as you pay your respects and head down the path a little. 

Yuji faces his parents, kneeling down to say goodbye again — and he remembers how it was their idea to set up Yuji to have a playdate with you, all those years ago. And now, here you were — the most important person in his life. 

“Thank you for everything you did for me,” and he glances at you over his shoulder as he gets up, “especially for helping me find her.” 

“Yu-ji—“ you gasp, as he’s tugging you into your bedroom, bumping himself carelessly into the wall as he guides you both to your bedroom. You giggle as he presses you against the wall outside your room, “I text you my parents are going out for dinner and this is how you greet me? What happened to hello—“ 

His lips crash against yours and you forget about ‘hello’ and just about every other word in your head. Your lips curl against his lips, as his body cages you against the wall. It had been a few days since you and Yuji had been able to have a moment alone—Nanami was watching you both cautiously, while your parents had been keeping you busy at home, seeing family or cleaning up around the house. And Yuji was growing increasingly desperate for some time with you — that wasn’t hidden brushes of fingers under the table or stolen kisses out of sight from family or friends. 

“I missed you so much, baby,” he’s murmuring — and you didn’t know it was so possible to look like a kicked puppy so much until you met Yuji, “can’t believe Nanami was so mean and kept making us keep the door open—“ 

“It didn’t help that he walked in us making out on your bed three times—“ and a moan escapes your lips as he kisses your neck, teeth grazing against your racing pulse, “fuck, Yu—“ 

“How do you always taste so good?” he mumbles against you as he leads you inside your bedroom and shuts the door. His eyes glance around your childhood room, as he takes in the childhood posters plastered on the walls, the untouched books, the stuffed animals from a millennium ago that still lined your bed. 

“My family has not changed much here for years,” your cheeks burn, as he only chuckles, walking you backwards into your bed, and you climb into the bed, only grabbing a stuffed animal from behind you, “remember this?” 

He snorts, as he takes the stuffed penguin from your hands, “How could I forget? I tried a million times to win this,” 

You tilt your head, “You said you won it your first try—“ and you gasp as he looks away, cheeks flushed, “you were trying to impress me,” 

“Not that much,” and you’re leaning closer, brushing your lips against his, “maybe just a little,” you kiss him more insistently this time, sliding against his, fingers curling in his soft strands, “maybe too much,” and you smirk, noses bumping as your lips find each other’s again and again. 

And your fingers slide down to drag his shirt up and over, freeing his chest and abs to your sight — and what a sight it is. So toned and tanned from his American football practices in the sun — perfect for your fingers and lips to explore the peaks and valleys of his body, hands already far too eager.

He returns the favor by lifting your own shirt off in an instant, groaning when he finds you wearing nothing underneath — your eyes can’t help but flit down and find his erection already tenting in his sweatpants. 

“Fuck, baby, you’re so perfect,” his eager hands are already teasing and palming you breasts, a whimper drawn out by his precise pinches and touches, “so good for me,” and your hands drag down his chest, leaning down to press kisses to his chest as your fingers trace along his abs, making him groan. 

He’s pouting, after he pulls you into another kiss, “it’s not fair,” he mumbles into the side of your neck, “I feel like I’m always the one who’s more nervous than you are,” 

You chuckle, kissing his jaw, “I felt the same way, why do you think I touched you on our TV marathon that night?” 

And he’s blinking, as you lay back on the bed for him, “you didn’t know—“ you shake your head. 

“You had offered to help get experience, and even when we had done things, you were just so…normal,” he chuckles, before laying beside you. 

“I had some practice acting normal around you, but I really didn’t. I think you nearly gave me a heart attack that night,” and you grin, drawing so close that you even feel the hitch of his breath. 

“That good, huh?” You tease, and it only takes a moment until he’s hovering over you, lust pooled in his gaze that lights a fire on your body wherever it lays. 

And his lips meet yours right after he whispers, “I’ll show you good.” 

“One more, baby,” Yuji tells you, but you barely hear it through the haze of pleasure and heat that fills the room, along with the sounds of the squelch of his fingers in your tight cunt, “just need one more,” 

And how many times had he made you orgasm already? You’d lost count — five or six at least. The first had taken some time, working his finger into your weeping slit, the way your walls stretch around him make you wonder how good it will feel when he fucks you. It’s not long before he’s sinking another finger in, the sounds and feelings of his digits curling is enough to bring you to orgasm. And the rest are a blur — another finger in your tight entrance, fucking you open as he toyed with your walls, until you came again and again. 

And now he bent down, lips around your clit, teasing and sucking at the sensitive bud, as your fingers curled in his pink locks as the lewd moans fell from your mouth with ease. You’re so close — so fucking close, and when his fingertips brush against that spot and it’s all too much. 

You cum around his fingers and mouth, his name on your lips as you do, back arching against him, as he eases his fingers from your cunt. He licks his fingers clean as your eyes flutter open to meet his, “You taste so good, baby — you’re perfect,” and you watch as his tongue flicks out to clean his lips and chin of your sticky release. 

And soon enough he’s kissing you, hand cupping your cheek, letting you taste yourself on his lips, as your fingers drag over his bare chest and follow his happy trail into the elastic of his boxers. A soft moan leaves his kiss ruined lips, as his eyes are lidded with lust, soft pants against your skin. 

“Is this a dream?” Yuji murmurs, his lips ghosting along your jaw, “never thought we would get here,” and you turn your head to meet his lips in another sweet kiss. 

“It isn’t, we’re here. Took us long enough,” your lips curl, your fingers tracing over his cheek, “and nowhere else I rather be — or no one else I rather be with,” 

“You sure?” And you’ve flipped him over, kissing down his body, fingers tugging at the elastic of his boxers until his dick is freed from the fabric, “fuck, baby, you don’t have—“ 

And his words are cut off with a grunt as your fingers grazes his erection, teasing his weeping head. You start to pump up and down, working the thick beads of precum over his length, his head falling back. 

“How’s your cock so pretty, Yu?” you coo, blowing air over his dick, making him twitch in your hand, “never thought one of these would ever be so pretty,” you let his length slap against your tongue, slowly dragging it down your 

He hisses, hands grasping at the sheets, as you bend down to flick his tongue against the head of his cock. Your lips close around it, and suck, raising the back of his hand to cover his mouth, “fuck, s’good, baby, I—“ 

And you’re letting his cock sink past your lips, your tongue flicking against his slit. Your eyes find his own, as you hollow out your cheeks and sucking hard, and his hips buck into your mouth. His tip brushes against your throat, and you’re moaning around him, your fingers cup his balls, nails digging into your scalp. 

“Baby, fuck, I’m close—where—“ and he’s trying to ease you off, but your hands only hold his hips in place. Your nose brushing against his pubes. And when you’re suck hard on his tip, toying with his sack, only for him to moan your name, before cumming down your throat, his hot release painting your insides. 

You’re slowly pulling off his dick, a string of cum and spit connecting your lips to his cock, a smile on your face. You swallow his release, the salty taste still on your lips as you watch him pant, chest rising and falling. 

“Taste so good, Yu,” you murmur, and you’re moving back up to kiss him, “think I’m addicted,” you murmur, as your lips find each other again and again. 

“Now you know how I feel,” he smiles, fingers running through your hair, “been addicted to you for over a decade,” and he’s sitting up, guiding you into his lap slowly, “we can always stop right here, we don’t have—“ 

You kiss him softly, the way he deserved, the way you’ve wanted to for so long, “I want to, Yuji, I really want to,” your fingers intertwine with his, squeezing his hand, his arm slipping around your waist, “because I love you,” 

And your fingers grasp his hardening cock, pressing it to your dripping slit, and god, he’s so fucking big. You knew how big he was, but just feeling him pressed against you makes you ache at how he’ll be stretching you out. He drags his dripping tip against your slit, letting your cum mix together, letting his head catch on your clit. 

Finally, you’re sinking onto him, his thick length parting your walls, inch by inch. Your head falls back, as he leans into your touch, watching you flinch at the stretch, “you okay?” Yuji’s pressing sweet kisses to your lips and cheek, “should I stop—“ 

“No, no, I’m fine, it’s starting to feel good,” your arms wrapping around his neck, burying your face in the crook of his neck, “ and he’s helping you sink into him, until finally your hips are flush to his, “fuck, Yu—you’re so deep—“ his cock twitches against your walls, a shiver up his spine at your words. 

And he’s panting, his lips pressed to your shoulder, “you feel s’good, baby — so wet and warm—“ you smile, cupping his cheek, “can’t believe this is real — can’t believe—“ 

“It’s real, Yuji, it’s real,” your lips curl into a smile, “I’m here, I love you,” 

“I love you too, I love you so much,” he kisses you again and again, as he shifts slowly under you, swallowing a gasp that leaves your lips. 

“Please, Yuji, move—“ and he obliges, beginning to fuck into you, and your head falls back, as his cock rocks into you, a moan falling from your lips as you do. He’s groaning your name again and again, a grunt when you begin to ride him in tandem, both of your thrusts sending him deeper into you. 

“Baby, fuck, you’re perfect. You’re so good f’me,” his lips finding your neck, as his strokes become faster and deeper, the sounds of your skin slapping together rings in your ears as he fucks you harder and harder, “g’nna cum, s’close,“ 

“I’m close too,” you’re panting as his lips find yours in a sloppy, messy kiss that has you losing yourself more and more, as his thrusts become more and more swallow. And when he finds your clit between your bodies, rubbing as he finds that one spot that has you seeing stars, “Yuji- I’m—“ 

And you cum hard around him, soaking his cock and thighs as you do, walls squeezing him tight until he’s spilling his warm seed inside you. You slow as you do, legs quivering, as you nearly slump against him and he holds you impossibly closer. He helps you both detangle, easing his softening cock from inside you, a small groan as he sees your mixed releases leaking from you. He helps you lie back, as he wraps his arms around you, running his fingers through your hair. 

“Are you okay?” he whispers, brow furrowed in slight worry as your eyes flutter open, lips curling as your fingers smooth the wrinkles of his forehead. 

“I’d be better if you’d kiss me,” you whisper and he obliges, a soft kiss to your lips that leaves you warmer than you were before, “now I’m perfect,” 

“You always were,” and you chuckle, rolling your eyes, before shaking your head, burying your face in the crook of his neck. 

“No, that’s because I had an excellent teacher,” and he laughs, before he pulls you even closer, finding your lips in a kiss. 

“And you always will.” 

“Come on, Fushiguro, pay up,” Nobara holds out her hand, as Megumi glares, pulling out his wallet and plucking money from his wallet and handing it to her. 

“You cheated,” he says as she snatches the money, counting it with a grin on her lips, “I don’t know what you did, but I know you did,” 

“You never said we couldn’t give them advice,” she grins, as she pockets his money, “and all I did was give Yuji a nudge, he’s the one who fucked—“ 

“Alright,” Megumi rubs his temples, “I get it, but it’s still unfair — we’ve been waiting for them to get together all these years and all of sudden he gets the idea to become her friends with benefits—“ and Nobara only grins wider, “you didn’t—“ 

She shrugs, “you can wait around for two idiots to figure it out, or you can shove them off the deep end.” 

“I knew you cheated,” Megumi grumbles, “that’s the last time I ever make a bet with you, Kugisaki,” 

And she smirks, “Well now you’ve been taught a lesson too.” 

✧ a/n: another celebration fic done! now just one more and then i can start preparing for the next follower celebration :). i've settled on using wips but i'll pick out a bunch of prompts for you all to request for certain ones. that way, you all have had a hand in them <3. thank you to laney for helping beta <3.

✧ taglist: @adrenova, @nakariabnrb, @skvllknight, @hanlay, @spider-fan72, @anonimusunnoaniswriting, @chososcamgirl, @thenezuko, @catsgomurp, @too-much-snow, @sashaiko, @forest-fruits-jam, @rita-ritarita, @anyaeuh, @dezznuggetsblog, @jayathelostdragon, @newspapergirlmal, @2livelaughlovefictionalmen2, @being-me-is-not-a-sin, @xoocii, @firelordazulaaaa, @cira273, @twosec0nd, @ororomunroro, @sunamatic, @withoutanameyet, @gojorgeous, @masctomboy805, @hantaslittlearsonist, @lemonpoppy-seed, @malmare, @teraine, @boopadoopa333, @jeyughh, @coffeebun17, @faeryli, @katienaps, @tojbitch, @fushitoru, @soulofoz, @yamaguccitadashi

[insanechayne]

~ ~ ~

[alienzil]

Nanny Danny

“That is a whole ass baby,” was the only thought running through Lex Luthor’s head when the scientist proudly showed him the tube containing Project KR. It was not remotely the sort of thing he would normally think and most definitely not what he had expected to be thinking the first time he saw the clone.

He’d been pleased when he’d read the reports indicating the success of KR after years of failures. Lex had poured millions of dollars and literally his own blood into ensuring a clone of the alien could be made, one that would be under his total control instead of the unknown aspirations of Superman.  He’d wanted to see the fruits of his labors personally but this…

It. No, not an it. He scrunched his tiny face and smacked his lips and…did he smirk? Was that HIS SMIRK on that baby’s face?! No. No. Babies this small didn’t smile or smirk. They passed gas and their sleep deprived and addled parents mistook it for an intelligent response. He’d heard enough inane conversations in the Lexcorp office about the various progeny of his employees to pick up on that but still. This child had Kryptonian DNA, not to mention his own contribution. Surely, he was far more advanced than the dribbling potato shaped lump of an infant whose pictures he’d been forced to smile and nod over when Mark from accounting had rudely shoved them in his face at the last quarterly budget meeting. Yes, that was definitely a smirk. His, that was his smirk.

“So as you can see its growth is well within expected parameters and we’re planning to start phase one of accelerating the maturation process tomorrow once the testing is do-”

“Take him out.”

“Sir? The testing can all be accomplished while it remains in the tube. There’s no need to-”

“I said, take him out. The project is cancelled.”

“What?! Mr. Luthor you can’t!”

“I think you’ll find I can. Now get me my son.”

*****

Two years later

“Call them again”

“Sir, I’ve called them seven times. They won’t answer.”

“Then call another agency!”

“There isn’t another agency, Sir”

Lex glared at his assistant who stared back at him impassively. Mercy stood by the door staring off into the distance and pretending she didn’t notice him being bested by his own secretary.

He stopped himself from shouting again and took a deep breath before asking, “Then what, exactly, do you propose I do Mrs. Anderson? Adjust my entire schedule around naptimes? Find a toddler size lab coat and safety goggles and bring my son with me to tour the new clean energy project on Thursday? Perhaps buy a tiny business suit while I’m at it for the next board meeting?”

“I’m not suggesting anything of the sort, Mr. Luthor. I’m telling you that no childcare agency in Metropolis will return my calls anymore. Most won’t even answer.  You’ve gone through 27 nannies in the last 3 months. You need someone better suited to your son’s…special needs.”

Lex snorted. “Special needs might be a bit of understatement. He can lift a car over his head and his favorite word right now is No.”

He sighed and rubbed his forehead. “Thank you for…clarifying the situation, Marjorie. If there’s nothing else, you can leave.”

His secretary didn’t move. She looked at him like she was waiting for something and now that he was paying attention, he saw she was holding a file.  “Did you have a suggestion?”

Looking pleased with herself she responded, “Actually, yes, I did.”

“Well?”

She set the file on his desk and flipped it open. He looked down at the first page and raised an eyebrow, “What am I looking at here?”

“This,” she responded pulling out the top set of papers and spreading them out, “is the employee file and background check for Daniel J. Fenton, an intern that started in our engineering department about 4 months ago. He has one sibling, two parents and several close friends he regularly meets with. His current supervisor has nothing but good things to say about him and reports he gets along well with all his coworkers.”

She set out the next set of papers, neatly arranging them on the desk to be easily seen. “These are newspaper articles and screenshots of social media posts regarding a small town vigilante locally known as Phantom. The same small town, Mr. Fenton is from coincidentally. Also coincidentally, Phantom made his first appearance only a few weeks after Mr. Fenton was involved in a minor accident in his parent’s home laboratory when he was 14, the medical records for the incident are included.”

“Hmm,” Lex said observing several photos of Phantom and a younger Fenton arranged in order of similar poses and facial expressions and printed out side by side.

“Finally,” she said handing him the last set of papers directly, “this would be a report from the lab Mr. Fenton works in from an incident that happened yesterday. A test with a new protype went wrong and started a fire. Everyone evacuated per protocol when the alarms went off but one of the other interns was working on a programming issue off to the side of the lab while wearing headphones and didn’t hear the alarm or notice the fire. Mr. Fenton noticed his absence and returned to the lab to get him out.” She stopped talking and let him look at the last several pages in the file, a series of photographs of the lab.

“Is this ice?”

“Yes, it is. It’s several inches thick and covers half of the lab. It completely put out the fire leaving minimal damage.”

“This machine was moved?”

“It was. It was very close to the flames and would have required replacement if exposed to extreme heat or cold. That particular piece of equipment also weighs several thousand pounds and was bolted to the floor.”

Lex read through everything in detail then clasped his hands under his chin and stared at the photo of Daniel Fenton for several moments before turning back to his waiting secretary.

“Have HR send Mr. Fenton up. I’d like to offer him a promotion.”

[mareestoermers]

i think we are all forgetting something when we talk about how toxic patrick, tashi, and art are — or when we decide one is “worse” than the other. they all have moments of seeing right through it, seeing each other’s toxic behavior for what it is, and STILL want and need each other in this possessive, envious, visceral way.

1. in the way beginning, tashi is clearly flirting more with art than patrick, and patrick is visibly annoyed. art sees right through it and even challenges him like “okay, let’s leave”, and has this little smirk on his face because he knows patrick won’t give up on tashi.

2. tashi immediately sees the visible tension and love between art and patrick, and literally orchestrates their first kiss. she sees right through their repression, and even calls herself a “home-wrecker” but still entangles herself with them, especially patrick because he’s clearly the better tennis player at that point and that is tash’s ONLY true love. tennis. that’s what she desires most in him, and patrick knows that. he even calls her out on it in the dorm room scene. but they have this mirroring fire in each other that neither of them can give up, not until patrick breaks the balance and bails — tashi’s injury is literally a metaphor for the balance shattering between all three of them when patrick leaves her.

3. before this, patrick sees right through art trying to break them up, and even admires that quality — maybe even feels smug and flattered because art is jealous and feels left out from both tashi and patrick. patrick has known this all along, we saw it in the “tick-serve” scene, where he even swears to tashi he won’t tell anyone but he still tells art, who is desperate to feel a part of them and patrick wants that, too — even keeps that close intimacy with art that we see in the churro scene (swoon swoon swoon).

4. haven’t you noticed that arts desire to be great is only ever tied up in patrick and tashi? how he needs to beat patrick to win tashis affection, how he needs to win in tennis so that tashi can live through him, how he lives up to his potential in the ending only because tashi and patrick push him to it, in their little fucked up ways? he knows this — he even admits that he’s playing for tashi, that he knows she’s living through him. he even admits he’s playing a fucked up little game with patrick when they’re in the sauna. yet he still does it. again, he knows what’s happening, sees right through them — still does it, still loves them.

5. when tashi calls patrick to come pick her up he knows it’s not just to tell him to throw the match — and despite how she battles him about it, they still have sex in the car, because he already knows. he’s so fully aware of her and her game and he’s so willing to be caught up in it, the same as art.

just some examples of how they all have moments of clarity and agency and yet they still choose to be entangled in one another because they’re all fucked up in their own, individual ways, and they’re all living through each other for their own specific needs. arts is to be seen as worthy, as great, but only through their gaze. tashis is to have the career that was stolen from her. patricks is truly to be in love and in lust with both of them, because we even see that from the beginning that tashis love alone will never satiate him; it has to be arts love, too. that scene in the sauna when he thinks he’s lost it from art is the most sad and fucked up we ever even see patrick. on top of tashi asking him to throw the game — he’s so defensive of arts feelings.

in short this is an actual love triangle (and i would go as far as to see it as a polyship). you can’t erase one without the whole thing unraveling, and you can’t say one character was the “worst” without picking apart the motivations and pointing to the fact that their bad behavior was never a secret or left unchecked.

even at the end, patrick signals to art that he slept with tashi — art knows and they still have that intimate completion at the end, all three of them. art living up to his potential and embracing patrick fully (id argue this could even be a metaphor for embracing his bisexuality), patrick having both tashi and arts affection again, and tashi playing a phenomenal tennis match through her little white boys — in such a visceral, emotional way that she cries out like she did in the beginning and the last frame is her smiling.

in a fucked up way, they all get what they wanted out of each other.

[obsesssedblerd]

“Oh, Nanaminnnn!” 

At the familiar, cheery voice, Kento looks up to see no one other than Satoru Gojo, leaning against the doorframe of his office with his usual grin. “Saw with my Six Eyes that you came to fill out those reports here instead of doing it from home. Been so long since you showed your face here and—” He cuts himself off with an excited gasp, then walks closer as his smile grows wider. “You brought my little mochi!”

In Kento’s left arm, his daughter—who had woken up from her nap about ten minutes ago—coos excitedly when Satoru enters her vision, reaching her hands towards him. “Well, hello there, sweetheart! I was wondering when I’d see you again!” He slides his hands under her plush arms, then picks her up, skillfully—and safely, Kento notes—holding her in his arms. Tiny hands brush against Satoru’s blindfold, and he lifts it so his niece can see his blue eyes. They immediately soften when the baby girl laughs when he gently tickles her tummy. 

It’s so cute that Kento can’t stop the corner of his mouth from lifting. 

“Wait—Did I hear that right?! Nanamin’s here?!” 

“Itadori, wait for us!” 

“Kugisaki, you dropped your bag—Oh, come on, guys, slow down!” 

Rapid footsteps approach, then the three first years appear at the door, gasping in unison. 

“Oh, my gosh!” Yuuji, the pink-haired teenager shouts as he points at the baby in Satoru’s arms. “Nanamin, when did you have a baby?!” 

Nobara’s question comes a split-second after Yuuji’s is finished. “Is that why [Y/L/N]-sensei quit a while ago?!” 

Megumi walks to stand beside Satoru to analyze the little bundle in his teacher’s arms. “She’s… adorable.” He mumbles, gently smiling when she wraps her hand around his finger. “Very adorable. She has [Y/L/N]-sensei’s laugh.”

“Isn’t she just so precious?” Satoru asks, proudly showing her off to the first years. “So sweet and friendly, just like her Uncle Gojo.” 

“Hopefully she won’t be as reckless as you,” Kento says as he holds his hands out, and Satoru returns his daughter to him. “[Y/N] and I already believe that she’ll be the exact opposite of me.” 

Yuuji sits beside Kento to get a closer look at her. “She’s so cute. How old is she, Nanamin?” 

“Four months as of yesterday.” 

Nobara crosses her arms and pouts. “How come only he knew?” She asks, gesturing to Satoru. 

“Well, when I had to go away on a long mission, she was only a month old,” Kento explains. “He kept an eye on her and [Y/N] for me; made sure that they were both safe. I’m very grateful. We had plans to tell you about our daughter soon.” 

“Where is she now?” Megumi asks. 

“At home. I wanted her to have the morning and most of the afternoon to herself. I’ll be heading back shortly.” 

Satoru and the students share similar looks with each other, and Kento knows what they want to ask. He pulls out his phone and dials your number. “Hi, baby,” you greet when the line connects, “how’s our girl?” 

“Hi, love. She’s amazing, as always,” he says as he looks down, playfully poking the little one’s nose. “I’m with Gojo and our students. They want to know if it’s alright to come and see you.” 

“We’ll cook dinner if you’re too tired!” Nobara chimes in hopefully.

“Actually, better yet, I can just order something for everyone,” Satoru suggests. 

“And we’ll clean up,” Yuuji and Megumi say at the same time. 

You laugh, then answer Kento, “That’s more than alright. Bring them here.” 

“Thought you’d say that. See you in a bit.” 

“Yes!” Yuuji cheers. “Alright, I’m gonna ride with Nanamin so I can sit next to the baby!” 

Nobara glares at him. “Not if I get to the car first!!” 

When they sprint out the door, Megumi groans before rushing after them. “Didn’t I just tell you guys to slow down? We’re going to the same place!” 

Satoru laughs, then waits for Kento to finish up so they can walk out together. 

—

there was an ask in my inbox requesting a cute drabble for dad! nanami ft. gojo (as a trusted friend of his) and the first years, but it disappeared. hope u like it, anon <3 

[partiallysame]

The 141 teases Gaz about your pet name for him and now you gotta fix it

Soap heard you call Gaz “Kyle Baby” once. One time. And he gripped his grubby hands on the name. No longer calling him Gaz or Garrick. Only Kyle baby. He did it so much the rest of the 141 picked up on it. Ghost saying “here you go Kyle baby” when handing Gaz anything and Price even referred to him as “Kyle baby boy” once and Soap hit the ground laughing so hard. Did it bother Gaz? Yes absolutely but the worst was when he was trying to explain the name to the 141 over drinks one night. Each large man had one too many to drink and were a giggling mess as Gaz fought for his life defending you and “Kyle baby”

“What are ye just a wee lad?” MacTavish was losing his shit over his own comment.

“Noooo” Gaz whined back “she says it different. Says it all sexy like” This immediately prompted all three men to repeatedly say ‘Kyle baby’ in their sexiest (drunkest) voices. “Fuck you lot. If you heard it you’d know. The way she says it, it’s like she’s just asking me to take her to bed and the pretty bird knowwwsss it too. Uses it against me she does.”

Unbeknownst to his team, Kyle had texted you to come get him (come prove his point). When you texted you were there, Kyle ran out front to meet you. You thought he was getting in the car but he was pulling you towards the bar’s entrance. Trying to explain what he wanted you to do.

“Kyle Garrick. You want me to what?”

“You know loves. Just say it like you do when you want me to give it to ya good.” That comment earned him a slap on the arm.

“You want me to seduce your team? Am I understanding that right?” His large drunk frame is looking down at you, giving you those stupid puppy dog eyes he knows you can’t resist.

“Not seduce. Just say their names and work the lads up a little. Been teasing me for weeks about ‘Kyle baby’. Need them to understand. At least just MacTavish. Stupid fucking bloke won’t let it go.” He had pulled you into his chest as he tried to convince you to go along with his plan. You just stared at him but with a final “please baby. I really will give it to ya good if you do this.” Rolling your eyes you agreed and were immediately pulled into the dark bar. Kyle situated you on an empty stool and motioned for you to stay.

“MacTavish.” Kyle had his hand out pointing to his squad member. “The little lady’s got something to say to ya.” All of a sudden the soldier is walking towards you and this is real. Cursing yourself for agreeing to this because what the fuck are you supposed to do.

“What can I do ye for” Johnny was standing in front of you and you motioned for him to sit on the stool next to yours.

“Heard youve been making fun of my Kyle” You stood up to stand in front of him, making the height difference much more in your favor.

“He tattle on me did he?” Soap cocked his head to the side, curious about where this was going. Stepping a little closer so your body was just in between his (man)spread legs.

“You know Johnny. If you had a girl at home willing to suck your cock” Soap choked on his spit the second the vulgar words came out of your mouth. “I don’t think you’d be complaining about any nickname she chose for you.” Soap was trying to regain his composure but the look in your eyes shifted, all of a sudden these big innocent bedroom eyes were staring at him as you leaned in a little more to get closer to his face. “Right Johnny baby?” The breathyness of your voiced paired with this barely heard whine coming from your lips made his mind go blank. It took every ounce of self control he had not to just take you right there in front of the whole fucking bar, your boyfriend included. You stepped back away from him and turned to Kyle who was already laughing at the look on Soaps face but absolutely lost it when you shook out your body like you had the chills and followed it up with “ugh yuck I didn’t like doing that.”

Soap is crushed, sulking behind you. You just flipped his whole world upside down, whispered in his ear like sex incarnate and then turned around to complain that it inconvenienced you. He never once used “Kyle baby” again.

(Do I only write at soap’s expense? Yes. I wanna tease him so bad)

[femmeroll]

are you guys sick of older!sevika yet or what…

sevika x fem reader

cw: age gap, modern setting, sfw & nsfw, idk this is just feeding my delusions

older!sevika will always give you a ride. in fact, the thought of you having to drive yourself anywhere makes her sad. you’re a princess who deserves to be chauffeured around!

she’ll pick you up in her truck from your college classes with your favorite drink from dunkin in the cupholder. she’ll wake up at seven in the morning just so she can drive you to your eight A.M class.

“babe, it’s your day off. you need to rest, i can drive myself!”

“is that some sort of joke? get in the truck.”

older!sevika is physically incapable of watching a movie with you without falling asleep. the second her ass hits the couch in your apartment, it’s like she swallowed ten melatonin gummies.

you guys are cuddling up under a blanket, peacefully enjoying some movie you found after scrolling through disney plus for ten minutes. around fifteen minutes into the movie, you turn to see her eyes closed, softly snoring against the pillow.

“sevi…c’mon, wake up. it’s been like…thirty seconds.”

she stirs awake with a groan. “i’m awake, i’m awake. i won’t pass out again, promise.”

she falls back asleep twenty minutes later.

older!sevika is, contrary to popular belief, a huge fan of romantic sex. she hates quickies, they just don’t satisfy her need to be intimate with you in every sense of the word.

she loves to take her sweet time with you. making out turns to gentle grinding on her lap, which then turns to neck bites and soft rubs on your hardened nipples. she won’t touch your cunt until she’s positive that you’re dripping with need. everything with sevika is an expression of her love. every deep thrust of her strap into your pussy is filled with sweetness and appreciation for you.

during aftercare, she’ll do whatever you ask. she’ll rub your back, get you water, feed you, clean you up in the bath. the whole time she’s mumbling praises in your ear about how much she loves you.

and on that note…

older!sevika gets turned on by the most random things. wearing her shirt? she’s ripping it off and getting on her knees for you. doing work with a concentrated look on your face? she’s blushing down to her neck. singing along to a song in the car? she’s pulling over and tonguing you down.

“babe…i’m studying for midterms. what are you kissing my neck for?”

“you’re so hot when you’re focused. i think it’s time for a break, baby girl.”

older!sevika starts facetiming you during her lunch at the office. she’ll listen to you talk about your classes or your outfit or the weather for the entire hour she has free. the whole reason she calls you every day is so she can hear your voice and look at your gorgeous face.

she’ll have her phone propped up against a stack of papers on her desk, staring at you through the screen with hearts in her eyes like a cartoon character. nodding mindlessly as whatever you need to rant about, completely at peace due to the sound of you.

older!sevika smokes a concerning amount of cigs, just like in the canon universe. between clients at work? she’s going out back to smoke. after sex? she’s smoking in bed. driving you somewhere? she’s smoking in the car with the window rolled down. she’s literally always coughing.

that being said, she thinks vaping is just ridiculous. she just thinks it’s lame. if you vape (like me), she’ll make the most dramatic, grossed out face the second you pull it out. it smells too sweet, and they’re like forty bucks a piece.

she will absolutely buy you a new one when she’s out getting herself cigarettes, though. she can’t say no to you ever.

[alphacrone]

Ranking animals i’ve had to move out of the road

deer - 1/10

you’ve heard of ‘deer in the headlights’ but have you heard of its much more deliberate cousin, ‘deer who are grazing on fallen acorns in the middle of the road and know you’re there and don’t give a fuck about your murder machine or how loud you honk at it’?

neighborhood dogs - 4/10

i love random surprise dogs as much as the next person but not when i’m driving. not when they’re muddy and wet and want to get into my car but won’t let me read the number on their collar. not when their owners don’t answer and now i’m just responsible for keeping their idiot golden retriever alive when i just wanted to go home.

turtles - 7/10

if you know how to pick ‘em up proper then it’s kinda fun to zoom a little guy over to where he’s trying to go like he’s just minding his business and now he’s flying

snapping turtles - 0/10

you want for that motherfucker to cross at his own speed. dni

baby owl while all his siblings and very scary mother watched - 10/10

i’ve never felt more alive. lil idiot kept hissing at me but would move to i kept having to scooch him over with a shoe in place of a stick or shovel. genuinely thought mama owl was gonna attack me but seemed to realize i was helping her dumbest son over to where she was. scariest minute of my life tbh. he was nothing more than an angry ball of feathers and i fell in love instantly. sky cats indeed.

tarantulas - 0/10

i’ve never tried to move one i just wanted to remind everyone that they’re big enough to see on the road lmao

[alaia777]

jacked and kind?

ೃ༄ barou;

you giggled while you set your phone on the drawer in your room, you don’t know how you managed to convince your boyfriend to do this trend with you, but you did.

“alright, all you just have to do is pick me up and put me on your shoulder.”

“whatever.”

a boy who’s jacked and kind. can’t find his ass to save my life.

suddenly, you’re lifted off the ground and put on his shoulder. you start to laugh, not because of the situation, but because he’s flexing his muscles in front of the camera. you put your hands on his hair and tug a little. “you’re so corny. stop flexing, who are you trying to impress?”

the next second, you’re thrown onto the bed, and he’s leaving the room, mumbling something about how a king never tries to impress anyone.

ೃ༄ bachira;

“pleaseeeee. i promise i won’t drop you.”

“bachira, no. you’re 5’9. i know for sure you’re going to drop me.”

your boyfriend was trying to convince you to do this tiktok trend he saw. you trusted him, but the last time you tried one of his ideas, you found out he’d been using your toothbrush. you didn’t speak to him for days after that.

“i’m going to stay in front of the bed so, in case something happens, you’ll fall on something soft.”

you sigh, already regretting this, and move in front of him so he can do this stupid thing.

a boy who’s jacked and kind. can’t find his ass to save my life.

you feel his hands grab your hips as he slowly lifts you onto his shoulder. you cling to him tightly, silently promising that if you’re going down, he’s coming with you. when you catch his reflection in his phone, you can’t help but smile—his expression is so adorable, so focused.

until you feel him slowly backing away.

you squint in confusion as you see him shift his weight.

“what are y—”

before you can finish your sentence, you realize exactly what he’s about to do.

ೃ༄ shidou;

you watch as your boyfriend struggles to prop his phone up, grumbling under his breath. “stupid piece of—”

“no cursing, ryusei.”

he mumbles something about not telling him what to do, and honestly, you’d snap back at him, but considering he just woke you up to do some random trend he saw on his phone, you let it slide.

“alright, stop making faces and look at the camera.”

a boy who’s jacked and kind. can’t find his ass to save my life.

before you have time to process that thought, he hoists you up onto his shoulder like you weigh nothing. grinning like an idiot, he spins around, showing off different angles to the camera.

when the video finally ends, you wait for him to put you down. but, of course, he has other plans.

“ryusei, what are you doing now?”

he strides toward the kitchen, still carrying you effortlessly. “you’re going to watch me make a sandwich. ratatouille style.”

ೃ༄ rin;

“this is stupid.”

“you are stupid. shut up and do what i just told you.”

rin couldn’t believe he agreed to do some brainless trend like this. one second, he was watching a football match on tv, and the next, he was standing in front of your phone’s camera, looking unimpressed.

“what if i decide to just drop you?”

“then you’ll be sleeping outside in your car.”

a boy who’s jacked and kind. can’t find his ass to save my life.

for a moment, he didn’t move at all, like he was genuinely refusing to take part in your trend. but just as you turned around to give him a piece of your mind, he scooped you off the ground and threw you over his shoulder. he was so stiff you almost felt bad for making him do it, but when the video ended, he surprised you—his hand gently caressed your knee, and he leaned into you.

“don’t post it.”

ೃ༄ isagi;

you were laughing so hard your sides were hurting. isagi looked like he was on the verge of tears, all because, during this trend, you accidentally hit him in the crotch with your sole, making him lose his balance.

“stop laughing, i could’ve hurt you.”

“isagi, i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean to.”

“you know, this apology would’ve been better if you weren’t laughing like that.”

you wanted to go and hug him, but he seemed more focused on restarting the video. it was clear he really wanted to get this one right.

a boy who’s jacked and kind. can’t find his ass to save my life.

you sat up straight, waiting for him to pick you up again. and that’s exactly what he did. this time, he made sure your legs were far from his crotch as he lifted you onto his shoulder. when the video ended, he gently lowered you into his arms, holding you close and murmuring how much he appreciated you.

ೃ༄ i hope you guys like this one :’)

ೃ༄ also, my requests are open so please let me know if you guys have any suggestions !

[eowynstwin]

i’m drooling at ur older bf price (not much else to say except when/if u ever have more thots abt him please share 🙏)

previous

You curl in on yourself after sex, sometimes. It’s a pattern Price has noticed—you’ll finish, then he will, and in the humid moments after, the shutters in your eyes will close. You won’t meet his gaze.

He’s only asked once about it, and it had been so clear that the question disturbed you that he hadn’t pressed. You’d tell him, he reasoned, when you were ready—

(And he could nudge you in that direction in the meanwhile.)

The sink is put back together, cabinet door closed. Your sundress is wrapped and twisted around your midsection, naked breasts wet with his saliva and compressed against his chest as you lay panting on top of him. His shirt is in some far-off corner, thrown aside, and his jeans are around his knees.

“That was nice,” he murmurs in your ear, kissing your hair. He makes a home for his fingertips between your shoulder blades, walking the trail of your spine, up and down, slow as a tide.

“Mm-hm,” you say, out at sea. Far away.

He can’t deny that it disappoints him. But it isn’t about him, and he shouldn’t make it so. Even if it is about him, it isn’t actually about him—it’s about something else that has attached itself to him. Things are like that more often than not—deeper, older problems with hooks, the barbed kind that sink in and cling and won’t come out of their own accord.

So he keeps kissing your hair, and he keeps stroking your back. His softened cock hasn’t slipped from you yet, and he makes no move to dislodge it. You nestle closer to him; shift your body over his, a little, just for the feeling of it. He waits for the sigh—the long, steady breath you take after the act, after you’ve found yourself again in wherever it is you go after moments like this.

“This is probably weird to talk about after sex,” you say, and Price’s ears perk up.

“Nothing weird between us, dove,” he encourages. “What’s on your mind?”

You play with his chest hair a little, twirling it around with the manicured ends of your nails. (A manicure he happily paid for.)

“You’re the first man who’s ever given a damn about me,” you mumble into his neck.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” he says honestly. He kisses you again, because he wants to, and because he wants it to comfort you.

“You don’t make me feel stupid for not being able to do stuff on my own,” you continue. “My step—my mom’s husband. He used to make fun of me for, for getting confused about changing my car’s oil. Or he’d get annoyed at me. Or I’d need him to change my tires because I can’t do it on my own, and I’d call him for help, and he wouldn’t pick up the phone.”

“He sounds like a piece of work,” Price comments.

A younger version of himself would have offered to beat the shit out of the asshole. That self’s anger on your behalf sits radioactive in his chest even now—corrosive, roiling, righteous fury, ready to carve your name on whatever offal is left over after Price gets through with him.

But that would be for his own ego, not for you. That has no place here.

“Do you know—” and your voice breaks a little, “do you know how bad it feels when a man who’s supposed to look out for you treats you like you’re an idiot? Like you’re not smart enough to be worth helping?”

“Some,” he says. “It’s an awful feeling. I wish you didn’t know how it felt, dove. I’m sorry.”

He feels something warm and wet drip onto his chest, and your shoulders begin to shake.

It’s not the full-body, wracking cry of catharsis. Just an episode of something longer, something tired. A problem dealt with, over and over again—a wound that reopens sometimes, if it’s pulled the wrong way.

Price gathers you closer, wraps his arms around you tighter. He cups the back of your neck with one hand and murmurs “shhh” into your hair, soothing and quiet, squeezing you against him.

“I’m okay,” you say, a little watery. “Really, I am.”

“I know you are,” he says.

He tilts your face toward his, and kisses the center of your forehead. You meet his eyes with your own, wide and glistening with your tears.

“I’m always gonna help you, dove,” he promises, catching one that falls with the edge of his thumb. “And you can always ask.”

-

No I don’t have daddy issues why do you ask

[h4venpha]

⸺ tailored perfectly (18+)

✦ sylus x reader contents: slight nsfw, sfw(ish)worship, implied sex, literally just sylus loving on u wc: 442 notes: sorry i think i have. a thing for mirrors ? and also i wanted to write sylus eyefucking you because GOD that man can EYEFUCK. also im going to be on vacation for the next week so i (probably) wont be writing during that time! sorry for such short works, i rlly want to write longer things but i just have no good ideas </3 anyway enjoy!

“what do you think?” 

the fabric of the dress hugging your body is smooth and almost silky. you watch through the body length mirror at how the dress hugs your torso and hips before falling elegantly to brush against your ankles. sylus picked the dress out of course, he even had it perfectly tailored to your measurements. you told him it was unnecessary, but he never missed any opportunity to spoil you.

the door from the bathroom swings open, sylus emerges as he buttons up his light grey dress shirt with one hand, a black tie in his other. from through the mirror, you watch as he walks over, his low eyes trailing from your exposed shoulders to the small sliver of ankle in between the dress and your heels. he tosses the black tie over his shoulder, too distracted to even finish buttoning up his dress shirt before his hands slide firmly around your hips. 

“i love it.” sylus rasps as his hands drag up to your waist, voice recognizably breathier than his normal register. you watch as his dilating pupils at in every inch of your body. 

“the tailor made the dress perfect, hm?” you humor, watching for his reactions knowing many, many thoughts were going through his head right now. it’s easy to tell with the way his eyes drink you up like eye candy. he makes you feel exposed, like prey in the eyes of a ravenous predator.

“you’re perfect.” sylus’s voice rumbles in your ear before he presses a kiss to your exposed shoulder. his lips trail a line up your shoulder to your nape, lips slow and hungry as he worships your skin. although his kisses were soft, there was a distinct level of restraint he was exerting.

“w-we need to go.” you interject quietly, your sweet voice rolling in the needy fog in his head. 

5 minutes before they need to leave for the auction.

“i’m aware.” sylus’s jaw clenches. “luke and kieran can wait a little longer in the car, yes?” he pulls you back by the hips just enough for you to feel the hardening bulge in his dark slacks against the curve of your ass.

“you won’t get that pretty gem you’ve been talking about all weekend.” you look back as you tease him halfheartedly, knowing even if they showed up an hour late to the auction, he would outbid them all in a blink. 

sylus scoffs at your taunts, unfazed. “there’s a prettier gem right here.” he pulls you away from the mirror, spinning you around before pinning you firmly against the softness of the bed. “and she’s already all mine.” 

[valalice]

Hello there!! I really love your work! Could I request some older! gf caitlyn with some subtle and soft dominance? Doesnt need to be nsfw [but won’t complain if it is ;))]

It could just be about how she acts with the reader when in public, at home, etc. [i.e: cooking for reader when they’re busy for exams, putting her hand on reader’s thighs when sitting in public, or big spooning reader when they head to bed.]

That’s all. Please remember to stay hydrated and take frequent breaks! Keep being you and don’t overwork yourself :)).

— 🐢

ꪆৎ HEAVEN, HEAVEN. ft. 𝓬𝓪𝓲𝓽𝓵𝔂𝓷 𝓴𝓲𝓻𝓪𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓷.

ʚɞ summary. subtle ways your older girlfriend caitlyn shows dominance towards you.

warnings. fem!reader. reader is in college. age gap (10 years or more). no use of y/n. modern au! where cait is an office worker. fluff. in one headcanon there's a mention of curly hair (it's all for inclusivity and bias tbh—coming from a girl with curly hair). pet names ie: darling, love, baby, ect. smut nsfw. bottom!reader. dom!cait. hair pulling. mommy kink (reader calling cait mommy & cait calling herself mommy). squirting. cait had a bush. reader is a brat kinda. slight exhibition. fingering (r!receiving). orgasm denial. oral (c! receiving). strap (r!receiving). the strap is referred to as cait's cock. not proofread. wc. roughly 2k to 3k

an. thank you for the request, lovie! and i'm happy that you're enjoying my work ☺️ i decided to take this request and turn it into a headcanon format so i hope that's okay! you are too cute with your kind words and i hope you are taking care of yourself, drinking lots of water and eating yummy meals <3 i also decided to add some nsfw headcanons 🙈 so i hope you guys enjoy them. and for any of these headcanons i am willing to expand on them if you guys are interest :) remember to support your writers by reblogging & commenting !

m.list. | arcane m.list.

࣪ ˖ SAFE FOR WORK.

‣ straight away with caitlyn you notice her dominance. even before the two of you started dating and she was courting you, as she'd say when reminiscing with you or her friends on the early stages of you two, she exuded an air around her that's nothing less than confidence, pride, and dominance. she's already tall at 6 foot, but her posture is always upright, her appearance sleek, and she reveled in maintaining eye contact. and before her you usually didn't find people who were overtly dominant attractive, but when it comes to caitlyn it's completely different, natural. it's the way she carry's herself and it rubs off on you.

‣ the first subtle way of cait's dominance you noticed was her ability to make decisions. she's knows what she wants and how she wants it, and that's something you're relieved about, being too indecisive at times. so being able to let caitlyn reign free on decision making was something that gave you peace of mind. and it wasn't that she was a control freak (she kind of is, but that isn't the point), she helps level out the playing field when you're iffy.

"what would you like to eat for lunch, darling? my treat." she ask, clicking on her keys to unlock her car, taking the bag from off you shoulders to hold it in her hand.

"hm," breaking away from cait to walk around her car to the passenger seat, just before your slide in. "i don't really know." you cringe, you couldn't even count on your fingers how many times you've said this phrase in your relationship so far.

you hear caitlyn hum and the sound of her swinging open the back seat door and the shuffle of her setting your bag in the backseat before you enter your seat. she joins you in the driver's seat, clicking in her seat belt, her gaze settling upon you scrolling away on your phone. "would you like to eat out somewhere or pick up fast food and we can take it back to my place?"

your head darts up to look at your girlfriend, lips twisting up, thinking about your options. "i want something good."

that's earns a chuckle from cait, "i know that silly," her hand coming up to boop you on your noise, which caused you to scrunch it and giggle, swatting her hand away. "but what is exactly good?" she presses.

"well what do you think is good?"

"that wasn't the question."

you grumble, "you're so difficult."

"says you." she teases.

"'m always the one who picks. what would you like." you ask turning in your seat towards her as best as you can.

"i'm fine with whatever you'd like. you know that."

biting your lip you think about the choices she gave you earlier. "i think we should go back to your place."

"that's a start. do you have a taste for anything."

"i already answered that."

"darling." she sing songs in a tone similar to a warning.

she starts the engine, finally, and you immediately connect to the bluetooth.

"y'know we haven't had chinese in awhile." she proses, eyeing your expression from the corner of her eye.

"oh, that sounds really good actually."

cait perks up in the drivers seat, "you're usual?"

"yep!"

"alright," she stretches forward to twist the volume nob lower. "i'm going to call it in and we'll pick it up on the way home."

‣ cait also does the general dominate things; like opening up doors of any kind for you when she can, interlocking your fingers when the two of you walk together, walking slightly in front of you at all times as well as guiding you. you secretly love it though when instead of guiding you through a crowd by being in front of you, you love it when she does it by standing behind you, a hand or both hands securely on your hips as she leads you forward from behind. she's also a firm believer of switching places when walking, on the street and you're near the road? she's switching with you. in the parking lot and your facing the intersections? she's using her hand on your lower back to guide you to be the closest near the parked cars.

‣ she will also never let her girl look out of place, so she fixes anything that is "off" with your appearance. like fixing a certain stand of hair, taking that fallen eyelash off of your cheek and raising her finger with the piece of your fine hair on it in front of your lips so you could wish and blow it away, fixing your jacket so it's straight or the neckline of your shirt or dress, the straps of your bra will never be showing when you're wearing thin strapped items as long as caitlyn's around. holding your little compact mirror while you fix up your makeup or reapply your lipgloss. your necklaces will always be facing the correct way. picking off lint or stray hairs from your clothing. and she somehow always notices when your sneakers are starting to untie before your, pulling you aside so she can get on a knee and pat her propped up knee so you can place your foot there and allow her to tie your shoe, when she's done she pats your foot to let you know and she dust herself off before leaning down to give you a kiss.

‣ when out in public she'll usually always keep one hand on you at all times. in a comforting way for the both of you, especially if the two of you will be around her friends or people her age. she knows you get antsy around them and there's anxiety about being the youngest in a room full of older people. so, there will always be a comforting arm wrapped around your waist or a hand in or lap or on your thigh.

you look around the room, there's people you've met before. caitlyn's friends and a few colleagues, but for the most part a majority of them are new faces. and you can't help but feel like everyone is looking at you.

you've never been insecure about being with caitlyn. yes she's older than you, but it's never stopped you from feeling head over heels for her and that feeling overpowers any doubt or insecurity you could ever have. it's the fact that it seems like you're the youngest in the room, there's nothing inherently bad about that. but everyone here is successful, and you're well. . . a college student working a job that has nothing to do with what you're going to school for.

a warm hand snaps you out of your thoughts. lifting your head, caitlyn's already looking at you with a soft expression. "you're shaking your leg, love."

"oh," looking down at the leg with cait's hand on it, still shaking. you stop it on command, focusing your gaze back on your girlfriend.

"are you okay?" she tilts her head, her eyebrows furrowing and the ponytail her blue hair is in swishes behind her, cute.

you give her a tight smile, nodding your head. "hm." you hope you're convincing enough.

caitlyn takes in a breath, breaking her gaze from you to look around the room. "y'know that woman over there went for the same major as you." she points out.

"really?" observing the woman who's talking with a few of their colleagues before turning your wide gaze back to your girlfriend.

"hm. she doesn't do work with it," she pauses, turning her head back to you with soft eyes. "but, what she does now is something she loves."

her hand smoothing up and your thigh, comforting you. "what i'm trying to say is that don't worry about your path right now being different from others around you." she reassures. reaching out to take a hand from your lap to take it in hers, bringing your hand to her lips and pressing a kiss.

flushing at her gesture, "thank you, cait." your voice small enough for only her to hear in the chatter of the room. your hand stays up near her lips and she presses a few more kisses, causing you to giggle.

"there she is." she muses.

you bring her hand holding yours down down into your lap to clasp her hand in between yours. leaning forward, a few inches from her face.

"kiss?"

caitlyn leans forward to meet your lips, not connecting them just yet. "any thing for my darling." she whispers against your lips.

‣ it was also established pretty early that caitlyn is the big spoon in the relationship. she enjoys and you love it. caitlyn also finds it pretty cute whenever the two of you are laying anywhere whether it's the sofa or in bed that you turn your back to her and keep shifting until she notices your moving form, coming up to wrap herself around your backside. not really big spooning but caitlyn enjoys the feeling and pressure of your laying on top of her, always telling you how it grounds her whenever she pulls you along to the bed and flops you on top of her. but you never complain because you find it comforting too, the side of your head press against her soft chest, focusing on the steady rise and fall of it and the buh dumbs of her heartbeat, you usually fall asleep quickly like this.

‣ older gf!caitlyn knows how draining it is to be in college. you get so focused on your education by sainting grades or completing assignments, not to mention the exams. so, she's always doing her best to help you out and make sure that you keep yourself in check rather that be mentally or physically. during hard times where you have midterms or finals or just back to back exams caitlyn will always tell you to not worry about picking up shifts at your job, she already knows you're overworking yourself by studying and doesn't want you to exhaust yourself further by working long hours. because she knows you and that if you could study then work a shift and study some more afterwards you would, but she knows that isn't healthy for you. so she always reassures you by saying that she'll support you financially for a little bit, transfer sums of money into you bank account for rent, bills, groceries, ect. it gives her peace of mind to know that she able to take a weight off your shoulders and provide for you. cait is also an insanely amazing cook and you always rave about her cooking, so she began taking a day out of her week every week to cook you some premade meals. she always comes stocked and ready on a weekend to your place with her tote full of meals to pile into your fridge. and during exam season it became pretty common for you to send time at hers for a few days. she does it to watch over you to make sure you're not running on fumes, but you like to think of her as a built in study buddy for reviews. during these days cait will come home from work to most likely find you at the dinning table studying, she'll kiss you on your forehead, and she'll head straight to the kitchen to cook dinner. as much as you dread exam season you don't dread spending this time with cait, there's just something so inherently domestic about cait providing for you. coming home and cooking dinner for the both of you, it makes your mind go numb. and it makes her feel successful when at night when she drags you to bed and for her to wake up to begin getting ready for work that you're still in bed soundly sleeping and that you didn't sneak off somewhere to study.

"dinner's ready." caitlyn chims, poking her head into the dinning room where you sit.

you lift your head up from your notes to eye her. sniffing the aroma around you. "chicken alfredo?"

"hm. you said something about craving it last week, so when i went shopping i picked up the ingredients."

"you're so sweet, cait." you hum, watching as she exits back into the kitchen. you prop your elbow up the table to rest your head in your hand, eyes flicking back down to your notes. you needed to understand—no—absorb this material into your brain for your exam coming up in a few days. listing off multiple curses within your head for taking this course and major and your professor for being a difficult teacher.

there's crinkling of sheets of paper around you. cait's suddenly bending across the table to organize the scattered papers in her hands. "c'mon, love. you can study a little more later."

fixing your gaze back up causing your eyebrows to raise, dumbfounded as you watched her. releasing your head from your hand to reach it out for the papers. "but—"

"but?" her tone is questioning and harsh. blue eyes narrowing at you.

"just a few more minutes, please, baby. i almost have this down."

you watching her graceful figure walk to the edge of the table where the rest of your materials lie and she places the stack down. she stands tall, placing a hand on her hips. "you can always study some more afterwards," she begins to walk over towards where you sit. "your notes aren't going to miraculously grow legs and run away, love. they'll be here." she assures. you blink and look back down at the notes in front of you, then back up at caitlyn. and for the first time you notice her attire, her hairs in a messy ponytail, still in her work attire but she's discarded her blouse and is only in her under tank top and slacks, she too has has had a long day.

"okay." you agree.

caitlyn smiles, showing off her toothy grin and her front gap you adore. she takes the material in front of you and places it with the rest.

"we're eating at the island. i have a sneaky feeling your cute bum has been sat on that chair all day." she teases.

you stand, bones cracking. your eyes shoot straight to look at cait, the both of you bursting into laughter. the noise proving her suspicions correct.

she sways back towards you, "come before the food gets cold." she muffles out, taming her laughter.

beelining to the kitchen island you sit back down, but now on a high top chair. lifting yourself up by your hands on the counter to eye the dish of chicken alfredo on the other side of the counter.

"looks s'yummy, cait."

"hope it is."

"always is" you correct.

watching as she stands on the other side, empty plate in hand with tongs in the other, dishing up some pasta and chicken.

"good?"

you eye the plate, "hm" you nod.

she heads behind her to the stove where steamed broccoli lies, piling some onto you plate. opening a drawer next to the stove, grabbing a fork and slamming it shut with her hip. she turns around and walks around the island. the clank of the plate landing on the counter, placing the fork down next to it.

"dig in, darling." pressing a kiss into your hair before going to fix her plate.

‣ she takes care of you in softer domestic ways. such as taking off your makeup for you after a long day or a night out with friends. bathing you and carefully washing over you in the shower. washing your hair, even going as far to learn the type of products you use and buying spares for her place so she's always stocked if you happen to spend days at her place and it's a wash day. she even learns how to care for you hair type if you have curly hair, hearing you complain endlessly about the process of washing and styling it, so she'd take it upon herself to observe you and learn so that way she can help and maybe even completely take over the process to give your poor arms a break. a certain domestic thing she does is call her place home. not just her home but your home too. whenever you're spending the night and the two of you out she'll always say "alright, let's head home, love." at the end of it. and it never fails to make your heart skip a beat that she views her space as your guys's collective space. she makes it knows that she's ready for you to move in whenever you feel most comfortable, and the day that you announce that you're ready to live together she is beaming.

࣪ ˖ NOT SAFE FOR WORK.

‣ a subtle way she asserts dominance is maintaining eye contact with you. she relishes in being able to make you flustered from simple eye contact, watching you get all fidgety and stumble over your words. but it's also her silent cue whenever you're acting out in public. a tilt of her head, dark gaze, heavy lids and a narrowed eyes will usually set you in place.

‣ caitlyn knew a lot about herself before she met you, she kept a list of all things she liked and didn't like, and those things rarely changed. but what she didn't know is that she'd find being called mommy so attractive. she knows she can be assertive and demanding at times, always the one with the plan. she was even deemed the "mom friend" when she was younger, but not once in any of her other relationships had anyone called her mommy. and maybe it's because she's never dated anyone, before you, with a large age gap. but the first time the word escaped between your sweet lips it was when cait had you face down, ass up, drooling into a pillow. fucking you at a particular angle with her cock that caused you to go dumb and roll your eyes to the back of your skull. realization didn't strike you when it muttered out, you were too far gone, but of course caitlyn heard it, she hears everything. her hips stilling. "what was that?" you barely heard her question, only worrying about the fact that she stopped fucking you, pressing your hips back to gain her attention to begin thrusting again. "please—mommy." oh. she liked that.

‣ older gf!caitlyn expects nothing but the best behavior of her sweet darling. she finds it intolerable and disrespectful when you decide to be a brat and act out, and when you take it further and push her past her warnings? she's seething. but two can play that game.

cait lets out a laugh along with her friends. the two of you were where at this restaurant for hours now. you didn't mind your girlfriend's friends, you loved and enjoyed their company. but you didn't expect to be here for this long and it's getting antagonizing having to sit and pretend like your understanding anything any of them are saying, especially when cait looks like that, blue hair flowing down her back, dainty silver jewelry decorating her body, in that black silk dress the one with the modest (you don't think do) slit. you begged her to cancel the moment you saw her, but she persisted, and now you're suffering.

she's even been uptight today, shutting down your sly advances, saying something about acting out and wanting to enjoy a night with her friends in a long time when the two of you took a bathroom break. the bathroom break had backfired too, you prosed the question about going to the bathroom hoping she'd shuffle you into a stall and finger you, but that was a bust.

when you peak down to look at the time on your phone you catch something interesting from the corner of your eye. caitlyn's exposed thigh from the slit, her dress is bunched up a little at her waist so the amount of skin showing is more.

your nimble fingers trace down her thigh, smirking at the feel of goosebumps rising on her skin. settling your hand on her thigh, not too far low and not too high, just yet.

cait turns her head to peer down at the hand on her thigh, your pinky rubbing back and forth on the soft skin. then to your face, you flash her a smile and she does the same, pressing a quick peck to your lips before she turns her attention back to her friends. you feel as though a grey gloomy cloud was cast over you in that moment.

in a burst of inspiration you begin to inch your hand high, little by little until a few of your finger tips are dipping past the slit of that dress towards her clothed cunt.

her head instantly snaps towards you, eyes narrowed.

"what do you think you're doing?"

"i want to play." you shrug.

"and i told you not here."

"but i really want it," your gaze on caitlyn growing dark. "mommy." purring out the name so only the two of your could hear it

caitlyn's eyebrows raise in shock before they settle back down, turning her head to see her friends are still deep in conversation. her hand pulling yours from between her thighs. there isn't a harsh grip around your hand but it is tight, and with that hand she pulls you forward.

"fix your attitude and behave. maybe i'll think about touching you when we get back home."

you sit up straighter a grin forming on your face. nodding your head "m'kay." caitlyn squints her eyes at your sudden sudden change, releasing your hand.

a few moments pass by and you're already thinking of defying cait again. this time your hand finds her shoulder. you're bored so you begin to trace shapes on it, but then that gets boring so you start toying with her dress strap.

"stop that." her voice startles you.

you roll you eyes, confidently, because caitlyn isn't even looking at you.

"'m not even doing anything."

"yet." the pronunciation of the word is precise and harsh.

she turns back to you, "you're thinking of doing something. so i suggest before you do, that you don't."

"cait." you whine.

"what's going on with you, hm?"

"i told you."

"you're never this bad in public." that's true, but you've never had to wait this long for your girlfriend to touch you.

"you don't get it."

she eyes you. "no, i think i do," leaning forward her lips ghost yours. "seems as though i've spoiled you rotten which is causing you to act like a little slut in front of all my friends."

her voice dropped to an octive, enacting a reaction of chills down your body, wetness pooling between your thighs.

"be quiet or you won't cum for a week." she commands, pressing a kiss to your lips and refocusing herself.

"wha—"

suddenly caitlyn's hand dismisses the fabric of your skirt to between your thighs. fingers getting to work by rubbing at your clothes clit. you look up to see that cait now has her drink in her other hand, bringing it up to her lips to take a sip. her peripheral vision catching you and flicking her eyes to you, corking an eyebrow up at you.

as she is finished with her drink and sets it down her fingers push past your panties, spreading your legs a little wider to welcome her large hand. slow lazy circles on you clit was all you got for awhile, but it was enough to simmer your ache.

without warning cait bullies a finger into your sopping heat, causing you to let out a loud gasp. the entire table turning to you.

"are you okay?" one of her friends asks.

"yeah. you feeling alright, love?" her voice is laced in false concern. slipping another finger into your greedy cunt, observing your reaction.

you shuffle, looking around the table, then down at your empty plate. you can see cait's hand flexing as she pumps fingers in and out of you.

"uh— none of us has ordered dessert yet! it's not a dinner without dessert," you prose. "hm, right?"

the table agrees, and someone beckons the waiter over.

while everyone is occupied, caitlyn leans forward to your ear. "quick thinking, little one." she praises, watching as the waiter takes everyone's dessert orders. "order up, love."

"and what would you like?" the waiter asks.

biting down on your lip, hard. "hm, what's good?" there was an infliction on your voice from cait pressing her thumb against your clit as she fingers you.

"the molten lava cake is our most popular—"

you cut them off. "i'll take that!" a muffled moan escaped through your mouth, "hmm, sounds very delicious." hoping that saved yourself.

the waiter writes it down on their pad, turning their attention to caitlyn. "and for you ma'am?"

"oh, her and i will share." she confirms.

as the waiter walks off your head turns to cait, glossy eyes boring into her cold blue eyes. "cait—"

"i know" she shushes, she already knows you're close by the way you're desperate sucking her fingers back in. you're not sure if it's all in your head, but you swear cait fingering you underneath the table is causing the obscene squelches from your messy cunt to reverb and echo through the restaurant. to combat the noise you squeeze your thighs around cait's hand, but she persists.

flinging a hand down to grip at the hand between your thighs, you're so close that you don't even care if her friends caught on. not when her slender fingers that spot so deep within that only cait can reach.

just as you legs begin to shake uncontrollably, caitlyn whips her fingers from you needy cunt and between your thighs. grabbing the cloth napkin to wipe off your juices from her fingers, an icy glare is sent your way as she sets it back down, one that tells you everything.

brats don't get to cum.

‣ going back to spooning with caitlyn, she also loves to place you in her lap while the two of you watch tv. your head in the crook of her shoulder and a hand of hers in your hair, playing with it. until suddenly when she was innocently twirling a piece of your hair you'll feel a tug at it, causing you to gasp unexpectedly. or she'll get straight to it, so a her hand will find its way on the nape of your neck, slim fingers threading themselves through the underside of your hair before she yanks, now this will cause you to moan out, head falling back so she's cradling it in her hand. wet lips finding their way to your exposed neck, kissing and nipping away at the sensitive skin. you'll whine out, only for cait to shh you, "let me have my fun, love."

‣ there's something intoxicating about you being naked while caitlyn is completely clothed. the contrast between your crumbling figure and her composure. she also loves seeing how your sensitive body reacts to the feeling of her clothes on your body. her favorite is to press her clothed chest to your bare one while the two of you are messily making out, your nipples immediately hardening. even the way she can feel your slick soaking through her slack covered thigh, tainting the material. it drives her insane when she makes you squirt, your juices all over her button up making the material darker.

‣ when you're particularly needy and need something to shut you up she'll shove a few fingers in your mouth, watching the way your eyelids drop and you focus on sucking on her fingers. on other occasions she'll order you on your knees, grabbing a cushion for them. and she'll strip slowly and teasingly for you.

you watch her hips sway, raking in her naked body. her blue bush in your face and you feel drool pool into your mouth, gulping. a hand comes to your chin, pushing your head up to look up at her.

"you've been needy," she begins. "but, you've also been good. so i was thinking of putting your neediness to use, i want your mouth."

nodding your head aggressively, eyes dropping back down.

"words."

a hand still on your chin tips your head, peering up with wide doe eyes, cait's expression is cold as she stands over you. "yes, use me mommy, please."

her face relaxes and she smiles down at you, "good girl." your chin is released and her hand smooths over the back of your head, pushing it forward.

taking her clit in your mouth, you moan into her. lapping her up, you free your hands from your lap, placing them on her hips to burry yourself further between her pretty thighs. eyes fluttering shut, savoring the taste of the woman standing above you.

"ah, that's it. s'good." cait's noises of pleasure sounds like music to your ears. opening your eyes to view up her body, she truly is a stallion. her eyes are shut, her shirt long discarded on the floor as she toys with one of her breast, her hand still on your head keeping you pressed up close to her, and her mouth is agape.

your wet muscle working away at her, gliding through her sticky folds. slurping up all her arousal, not wasting a drop.

"so—" she begins. but gasp when you take her clit and suck on it. "shit. so," she gasp again, "so eager to please."

nodding into her, not wanting to let up. releasing a moan into her, causing the grasp in your hair to tighten.

"c'mon, love. make me cum," doe eyes staring back into her drowsy eyes as she lazily talks. "make mommy cum."

caitlyn addressing herself as mommy made you clench your thighs, the ache between your thighs becoming very apparent.

your pushed so far into her that your nose is up against her bush, her scent only enhancing your eagerness.

cait begin to slightly rock back and forth in your mouth maneuvering your head so she's practical long dragging her cunt against your face. your finger nails grip into her hips, adding to her movements. her juices dripping down your chin to dip down your neck.

"fuck!" she yelps, her sweet release washing over her shuttering body and you quickly slurp it up.

the grip in your hair releases. when your satisfied you let up, but quickly you place a kiss upon cait's clit, letting up with a mwah. a shiny sheen covering the bottom half of your face, even the tip of your nose.

cait's hand finds it's way on your face once again, but it cradles you jaw this time, thumb swiping over your plump, slick cover lips.

"my baby always knows how to care of me, doesn't she?" she purs, droopy eyes sparkling down at you with a dazzling smile to match.

‣ whenever cait is strapping you she prefers to be gentle with you. it'll take a lot of begging and or pressing your luck to get her to be really rough with you (like the first time you ever called her mommy). she also just prefers it. she likes taking it slow with you whenever she fucks you with her cock, in missionary so she's able to see your twisted up face from pleasure. she's also just a plain sucker for intimacy, the two of you so close that you're not even sharing space the space you two take up is its own completely new thing. everything of the outside world just washes away, and she gets to focus on you and only you. she loves being able to look you in your eye and dip her head in the crook of your neck to litter kisses and love bites across it and down your collarbones to your tits. and she really loves when you cum, your back arching off the bed your chest pressing further into hers, your head falling back, mouth agape and releasing pretty moans and whines of your climax, even your toes curling and uncurling. she eats it up. she loves it. she loves you.

[luveline]

I would like to say that this is NOT a smut request(unless of course you want it to be but it does not matter to me), but I’d love to see hotch finding out his sister and Spencer are not just an innocent couple because I know that would be so so so funny and awkward and I’m a sucker for awkward Spencer

Aaron wants you to be happy. More than anything, he wants you to have all the things in life he himself has been lucky to experience. A well paying job that he likes, a wife, a child. He wants you to be fulfilled, even in parts of life he’d prefer you didn’t have at all. 

“Remember that?” 

He wrinkles his nose. Spencer’s leaning over you, a hand encroaching the inside of your thigh, and Aaron isn’t that kind of brother but he sort of is; he feels a mixture of horror, mild disgust, and anger at the sight. He remembers you’re a grown up and so is Spencer before he can voice these emotions. 

You’re laughing. “Remember what, Spencer? Your dire inability to make a hickey?” 

“I’m not giving you a hickey!” Spencer whispers severely. “What is with you and biting? I don’t wanna bite you, and especially not where you wanted it.” 

“Everyone gives hickeys, Spencer.” 

“Please don’t say anything else. I don’t wanna know a single word’s about who’s been doing what to you.” 

“Just before,” you say. “Spencer, it’s just a kiss. And you like them, don’t you?” 

Your laugh turns to panicked giggling as Spencer squeezes your thigh. 

It’s sort of nice. If you weren’t his sister, Hotch might say it was romantic, or at the least, earnestly human. But you are his sister, and this is ridiculous, you knew he was coming over. 

He clears his throat loudly and opens the door. 

You, to your credit, look immediately embarrassed, and Spencer —honestly, he looks like he’s going to throw up, careful as he climbs off of you but rough the moment you’re no longer touching. 

“Hotch!” Spencer says, “I–”

“You knew I was coming,” Aaron says. 

You check your watch. The breath you let out is steam. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t looking at the time.” 

“I see.” 

“This is embarrassing.” 

You stand up. When you pull your t-shirt back down, Aaron wonders if he might be better off transferring Spencer to a foreign department. But then you give Aaron one of your I’m so sorry please don’t be mad looks and he decides to let it go. You weren’t even kissing, just talking about them as you play-fought or whatever it was. If anything, Spencer was being gentlemanly. 

Well, perhaps he shouldn’t go that far. “Come on, then. This car won’t pick itself up.” 

Spencer can barely look at him as he stands. “Uh, thanks again, Hotch. For taking us.” 

“I think this one falls under older brother duties, Reid.” 

“Okay. Sorry.” 

He takes a long breath. “You should be.” 

You jab Aaron in the arm, “Stop.” 

“What?” he asks, failing to hide his smirk. 

“You know what, stop being mean. Remember that time I walked in on you and Haley in the hot tub at–”

“Enough. Do you want to go get this car or not?”