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fandom-imagines-stories · 1 day ago

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Bonding Exercise Part Two

Robert Reynolds x Reader

Words: 3142

Summary: A hike during the team’s camping trip triggers some of the reader’s memories. They all band together to help her through it…even if they aren’t great at it at first.

Notes: I have loved writing these two imagines because they are kind of the perfect mix of humor and angst for me. I really enjoy the sweet moments between her and Bob, the witty moments between the team, but also the comforting moments between all of them. I hope you guys have enjoyed them too!

Part one and more Marvel imagines: HERE

He wasn’t expecting to find you back in the tent. When he unzipped the opening and climbed in, he jumped like a loud noise had gone off, finding you sitting up in the corner.

“Jesus, Y/N,” he squeaked, putting a hand over his now racing heart. Bob took a breath. “I mean, hey.”

You curled up, tucking your knees under your chin. “Hi.”

He crouched down so his head wouldn't brush the tarp-roof of the tent and knelt in front of you.

“I brought you some chocolate,” he said, digging the bar from his pocket. “They started making s’mores, and you mentioned that you wanted one, but I figured it would melt in my pocket, so.” He held it out to you. A peace offering.

You took it, peeling open the wrapper to take a bite. The semi-sweet richness was enough to help you unwind the tension built up in your legs and arms. You must have sat like that for almost an hour, running the day’s events through your head over and over again.

Yelena wasn’t wrong. What right did you have to trauma you couldn't even remember?

“Walker says we’re all going hiking tomorrow,” Bob said.

You scoffed. “Who put him in charge?”

“Uh… Walker.” Bob shifted so he was sitting beside you. “I don’t think it’s a bad idea, though.”

“Right. Because all of us getting lost again, surrounded by mosquitoes and getting sunburned seems like a swell time.” “I think it will give us all a chance to just take it all in, you know? Have some quiet time together.”

“You make us sound like a really lame book club.”

“I wanted to start one, actually, but nobody else joined.” Bob looked forlornly at his lap, like a puppy with no one to play with.

You smiled and grabbed his hand. “I’ll be in your book club, Bob.”

His lips tugged up into his crooked smile. He brought your hand to his mouth, gentle kisses peppering your knuckles, then your palm, then the inside of your wrist. He did this whenever he could tell you were upset. You’d told him once that your anxiety always manifested most in your hands, whether it was shaking or fidgeting or digging your nails so deep into your palms, you had crescent shaped scars. He didn’t have to say anything. He would just hold your hand, kiss your skin, and whisper reassurances until you calmed down.

“Yelena feels bad,” he said quietly.

You leaned your head against his shoulder. “I know.” You’d known the second her face fell and she called after you. “I just need to be alone tonight.”

“Do you want me to leave?” He tried to not sound dejected, but it didn’t work.

You laughed lightly and nuzzled in closer. “You don’t count.”

“Oh.” He liked it when you tucked your head under his chin like this, fitting like you were always meant to be there. “Good.”

The two of you stayed like that for a while before shifting to lie down. You’d managed to find an extra large sleeping bag you could both fit into, holding onto each other like life preservers.

“You know,” Bob started, peering down at you with a slight glimmer of mischief. “We could piss off Walker and pretend to have sex.” You raised a brow. “Why would we pretend to have sex, Bob?”

“Because it would be funny,” he beamed. “And tomorrow, we’ll say we have no idea what he’s talking about.”

Pulling back as much as you could, you looked up at him, Bob’s arms still locked around you. “Are you saying you want to gaslight a guy with super soldier strength?”

Bob nodded.

You shrugged. “Alright.” And you let out the most pornographic moan you could muster.

Well, he was right about Walker being pissed. The next morning, the former Captain America replacement looked ready to tear his head off. But Bob, finding no small amount of satisfaction in frustrating Walker when he was being a bully, just smiled and said good morning. You did the same, but decided to poke the bear a little more.

“Sleep okay, John?” You asked. Bob hid his snort behind his hand.

“You know I didn’t,” Walker hissed. “You are both so unprofessional, lacking in self-control and-”

You cut him off. “I’m sorry, but I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

His face turned red. “I heard you two sickos last night.”

“Last night?” Bob looked at you with feigned, innocent confusion. “You didn’t even come back to the tent last night, did you?”

You shook your head and mimicked his sweet little deer-in-headlights look. “I camped out under the stars. Needed all that fresh air after such a long car ride.”

“Do you think I’m stupid?”

You crossed your arms. “I don’t think you want me to answer that.”

“What’s going on?” Yelena asked, eyes flicking toward you.

You tried to ignore the still stinging stab of her words and carried on with the joke.

“I heard the two of them… committing the act last night,” Walker whined, sounding so much like a teenage douchebag you had to hide your face behind Bob’s shoulder to keep from laughing.

Yelena sighed. “We are adults, Walker. You can say the word sex.” She glanced between you and Bob, and you saw a flash of understanding. “I didn’t hear anything.”

Walker’s mouth opened and closed, the redness in his cheeks spreading all the way to his ears. He glared daggers at the two of you.

“You know what? Forget it.” He grumbled, starting toward the trailhead. “Freaks.”

With him gone, you and Bob gave each other a high five and burst with laughter. He leaned over with wheezing breaths mixed with that bubble giggle you couldn’t get enough of.

“I’ll admit, it was funny,” Yelena said. “But did you have to fake it so loud?”

You took a second to catch your breath. “Sorry.”

“Wait. How did you know we were faking?”

Yelena rolled her eyes. “Because I am a woman, Bob. I know what a fake orgasm sounds like.”

His cheeks turned pink, lips forming a line. “I thought it was pretty convincing,” he muttered.

You patted his shoulder. “It’s the only time. I promise.”

“And this is not a conversation I want to be part of.” Yelena turned on her heel, fingers in her ears. “Goodbye. Weirdos.”

You slipped your hand into Bob’s, grateful for his warmth. Giving him a small smile, you tugged him forward to where the others were waiting. Walker, of course, was decked out in full hiking gear- walking stick and all. The rest of you just had slightly more comfortable versions of what you wore for missions. Bob had his blue sweater and the rare pair of jeans tugged over his hiking boots.

“Are you wearing shorts?” Ava’s nose wrinkled in disgust at Walker’s outfit.

“When all of you are begging to cool off, I don’t want to hear it,” he huffed, turning to the rest of you. “Alright, everybody, listen up. I have selected two potential hikes for today. One is a technical, ten-mile round trip that will push each of us and improve our ability to maneuver in the wilderness.” He stared each of you down like a drill sergeant. Landing on Bob, his shoulders slumped like he already knew the answer. “The other is two miles to a waterfall.”

The group exchanged a look, speaking all together.

“Waterfall.”

Your not-so-merry band of seven marched along the decently marked trail with just a few steep inclines and tree roots to climb over. All in all, it really was a beautiful day. The sun wasn’t too hot, a breeze carried the smell of late blossoms in the air, and birds sang their songs back and forth over your heads. It was the first time since you’d left the city that nobody bickered.

Walker lead the group with you and Bob taking up the back, pausing every once in a while to look at a flower or a bird or, once, even a deer. Everything here seemed more vibrant, more welcoming. In the city, you were lucky if you saw a pine outside of the park. You’d forgotten what it was like to just stop and appreciate the world instead of constantly trying to fight it.

“I read that you aren’t supposed to pick the flowers out here,” Bob said, leaning so only you would hear. “But I would get you that one.” He pointed to a small bunch of bluebells. “Blue…water… I think it fits.”

“Okay, maybe we really are nauseating,” you groaned, leaning into him with your arm around his waist. “But you are adorable, so I'll let it pass.”

“We could be worse,” Bob reasoned, a laugh teasing his voice. “We could have actually had sex last night.”

“Don’t tempt me, Reynolds.”

He always looked cute when he blushed.

The two of you trekked along behind the others, more at ease than you’d been in a long time. It was more than just peaceful. It was… familiar.

But that didn’t make any sense. The file Valentina gave you indicated you were a runaway from Nevada. Not a whole lot of tranquil forests in the desert. Still, something about this path reminded you of something. The more it did, though, the more that peaceful feeling faded, replaced by a fear you hadn’t felt in a long time. Like a child waiting for a monster to jump out of the dark.

“If you need a break, you have to tell the rest of us,” Walker scolded. “This is how people get left behind and get lost, Y/N.”

You hadn’t even realized you’d stopped walking. Everyone had turned back on the path, each confused, a few annoyed. It was Bucky who figured it out. Maybe because he recognized the look in your eyes, or maybe it was because he knew how it felt to have your mind not be your own.

“What is it?” He asked at the same moment Bob took your hand.

“You okay?” His soft, sweet, typical tone brought you back to the moment, but it was Bucky’s watching eyes that made you nod.

“Yeah. Fine,” you said, ploying forward. “Let’s keep moving.”

You hiked ahead, leaving Bob at the back of the line to receive the rest of the questioning looks from the others. He ducked his head, avoided their gaze, and scrambled to catch up with you.

You reached the waterfall first.

The second you saw the rushing water, you were glad they couldn’t see you yet. Your knees buckled, lungs filling up with a past memory as your mind flooded.

It came in flashes, like scenes in a broken film reel, sputtering and flickering in front of you. What you remembered most was drowning. Over and over, the water filled your lungs until you would wake up to a pair of eyes like ice hovering over you. A smile, twisted by selfish pride sent shivers through you.

When it all stopped, you were standing beneath a waterfall. Not the same one, but the roar of both filled your head as you shoved Dr. White’s form under water, channeling the crash of the falls into his mouth until that frigid stare closed forever.

And then you were back. The waterfall was still in front of you, crashing into the river that led back to the lake. You couldn’t breathe, the memory of being held under again and again filling your lungs with a phantom current. Your knees hit the ground. You gasped for air.

Dr. White. You finally had a name for the face that haunted the nightmares that always faded too quickly. The head scientist of Project Rain. The man who turned you into the monster that killed him.

Your hand clawed at your throat. You waited to cough up a lakeful of water, but there was nothing. It was like your powers had turned against your body, and the two were caught in battle inside you.

“Y/N? Oh my god, Y/N!” Bob ran to you, kneeling by your side as the others rushed to join. He reached for you, but didn’t want to make things worse, so his fingers only lightly grazed your cheek. “What is it? What can I do?”

“Get out of the way,” Ava snapped, pushing Bob aside. Her pale green eyes bore into yours. “I know what’s happening.”

Bob’s voice broke. “Then do something!” He pleaded.

“Don’t let them overwhelm you,” Ava said. She took your face in her hands to steady you. “You are in control, Y/N. You are in control.” The force of her words broke through the tempest inside you. She let you go as the gulps turned to shudders. “Now breathe,” she said. “Just breathe.”

Whatever she did, it worked. Bob watched your body relax at least enough to take several slow, deep breaths. You sat back on your calves. He wrapped an arm around your waist to keep you from falling over.

“I've got you,” he whispered, kissing your temple. You nodded weakly against him, lowering your head to avoid everyone’s stares.

But Bucky wasn’t watching you anymore. He was watching Bob, a combination of understanding, and a more than a little guilt, washing over him.

“This will only lead to more problems. More bad memories.” He’d said during that stupid, stupid fight. “For both of you.”

But seeing the two of you together now, James Barnes had to admit that he was wrong. This was a fling to distract both of you. It wasn’t a trick to make you both feel normal. It was real.

“Alright, let’s give her some space,” Bucky said, still observing the way Bob had changed. He wasn’t the nervous, quiet man he usually was. He was steady and held onto you like he was keeping you from drifting away. All this time, Bucky had assumed you were Bob’s anchor, the thing that kept him grounded. He’d only ever seen the one side, thinking that was what was going to hurt you both in the end. He never considered that he was your anchor, too. That Bob was your Sentry.

The group dispersed, each choosing a section of the river to sit by. There was a small pond shooting off from the stream that Ava and Yelena decided to swim in. Alexia cannon-balled off the waterfall, splashing both of them. Walker got in, too, eventually, and Bucky sat by the bank, arm glistening in the sun. Bob never left your side. He held you no matter how hard your body shivered against him. Each quiet whimper from you was like a bullet to his chest- or how he imagined a bullet would really feel.

“I’ve waited for years to remember,” you said, voice muffled against his shoulder. “W-why now?” You pushed back, taking in another long look of your surroundings. None of it was familiar and yet you knew it was connected to you.

“Are you sure you haven’t been here before?” Bob asked, still reaching out for you even as you stood.

“Not her,e no.” That much you were sure of. “It was a lab. It was designed to look natural. It was supposed to test my abilities.” Saying the words did little to help you. It still felt like you were watching someone else’s life. And you still couldn’t remember who you were before.

Bob’s fingers interlocked with yours, the chill of your skin worrying him.

“Maybe we should go back.”

You stepped away from his hold, shaking your head. With a swift series of motions, you pulled your shirt over your head and stepped out of your cargo pants until you were in your sports bra and underwear. Then, you took a few steps forward… and jumped

“Y/N!” Bob’s voice was overpowered by the crash of water around you. For the first few seconds, it was like trying to swim through ice, every muscle in your body screaming in protest. By the time your head broke the surface, though, the water felt like it was a part of you.

Bob stood on the bank, half-stripped down in case he needed to jump in after you.

“What are you doing?” He exclaimed.

A laugh bubbled up from your chest, genuine and warm. “What does it look like?” You did a somersault in the water. “I’m swimming!”

You’d forgotten what it felt like, to embrace the water rather than fear it.

Maybe that's why your mind let you remember. You finally felt safe enough to face it.

“Come on!” You called to both Bob and Bucky. They were the only two left on land.

“I’ll pass, thanks,” Bucky mumbled.

You frowned, raising your hand above the water. With a flick of your wrist, you sent a large wave splashing over the side of the pond and all over the buzzkill Winter Soldier.

Everybody froze, anxiously awaiting his reaction. For a long, perilous second, he just stared at you, hair dripping. Bucky stood calmly, gaze never faltering and expression hard.

“This means war, Y/N,” he said and took off running toward you, jumping into the water close enough to send a great wave in your direction.

“Hey wait!” Bob called, diving in as well.

Thus began the water war of the New Avengers. Of course, nobody really took into account that they were battling someone who literally controlled water. At one point, you just created a wall encircling you and Bob and let the others tire themselves.

The barrier of water sparkled in the sunlight around you, reflecting in Bob’s crystal eyes.

“God, I love you,” he awed.

You grinned, throwing your arms around him and pulling his lips to yours in a kiss that said ‘I love you too.’ With your focus broken, the wall fell in sheets that perfectly caught the sun, turning each drop into a rainbow.

“Oh gross!” Walker exclaimed, but even he was smiling.

“Get a room,” Alexei teased, adding with a wink, “or maybe just a tent.”

“Don’t even think about it,” Walker said, which made Yelena snort.

With everyone gathered around you, you couldn’t help the affection you felt in the sting of welling tears.

Bob’s face morphed with concern. He brushed a soaked strand out of your face. “What is it?”

“Nothing, I-” Your voice cracked as you looked at each member of your team. Your family. “This is what I want to remember.”

A warm quiet filled the circle. Bob wrapped his around your middle and kissed your cheek.

“Wow, Y/N,” Bucky said softly. “That’s really- I mean, that was just…” He trailed off, distracting you enough to send a massive splash your way with his metal arm.

You squealed and laughed and the water war started all over again.

#lewis pullman imagine #marvel imagines #lewis pullman #comfort imagine #thunderbolts #bob reynolds #robert reynolds x reader #thunderbolts imagines #robert reynolds

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gardening--tools · 7 months ago

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🐶.

perhaps the reason this sickness is hanging on is in part due to the fact i have to rescue the puppies from being put outside to sleep at night. they don’t have their second coats yet!!! they can’t be outside at night!!! in winter!!!! it’s sub freezing let’s use our fucking brains!!!

#i’m literally about to scream #because why did you get puppies if you didn’t want to put in puppy work #no i know why it’s because pop’s staunch refusal that rules apply to him and his aversion to being told what to do are rearing their ugly #heads here. and his anti-vax ‘i can fight covid with vitamins’ tendencies.#and do not get me started on my mother. ‘i agree they can’t be outside’ my ASS #they’re literally babies they need to be raised like babies and that means an interrupted sleep schedule if they need to pee in the night #oh but if we look at how we were raised maybe this is how you think babies are raised oop-#nobody worry about them btw i’m just going to do it #this issue is at a tail end of several other issues brought up by the holidays so whatever it’s fine #i knew i was going to have to do this it’s fineeee #i mean. this is coming from the folks who laugh about accidentally burning chicks to death. as if it was a teehee haha oopsie #instead of the horrifyingly upsetting example of gross negligence and general disregard of life that it is.#jfc this probably sounds insane to people who don’t know the deep and intricately woven lore of my family. and it is! insane!#being an adult living at home is totally fine and not at all harmful to my mental health :) why are u asking :)#diary posting #ugh anyway. i say all this here because if i called them deeply cruel and disturbed people to their faces they might kick me out. and i #✨can’t afford to do that rn✨

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tonycries · 1 year ago

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AITA For F*cking My Sugar Daddy's Son?! - G.S.

Synopsis. When your sugar daddy just isn’t paying attention to you, can you really be blamed for fúcking his son? Especially when his son is absolutely obsessed with you.

Pairing. Rich boy! Gojo Satoru x Sugar baby! Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, unprotected, jealous Satoru, créampie, dirty talk, manhandling, marking, Satoru’s dad is not really present, oral (female receiving), overstim, másturbation (male), thigh riding, cúmplay, Satoru is really really down bad and filthy for you, CEO’s son! Gojo, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 8.1k

A/N. Will proofread later, lowkey scared to post this, but I just wanted it out of my mind. And in my mind, Satoru’s dad is FINE asl so-

The first time you meet Gojo Satoru is when you’re all dolled up for his father.

Designer dress just a bit too tight, running on a few too many shots of tequila, wanting to be anywhere but at this stuffy gala. Everything was too bright - too polished.

And it really didn’t help that no matter how many scathing looks or whispers that followed you, you just had to be here - it was in your contract, after all. Because luckily for you, you just so happened to be the infamous little plaything hanging off the arm of the head of Gojo Corporations.

Well, usually. Right now your sugar daddy was too busy entertaining his business partners, leaving you off to the side, praying for something - anything - to save you from this-

“Damn if I’d come to these shitty galas a lot more often if it meant I’d get to see a beauty like you.”

You jolt out of your bored little reverie, eyes immediately snapping up to meet the tall man suddenly in front of you. When did he even get so close?

You can’t help but drink him in from head to toe, from the overpriced, slightly-disheveled suit to the tiny dimple at the end of his mischievous grin. Strangely familiar white locks fell effortlessly to curtain his eyes. Eyes that were a startling blue - the kind of blue that had your cheeks flaring and knowing exactly who this was.

Oh.

At your silence, he tilts his head with the air of someone that owns this entire venue and everything in it because, well, he did. Twinkling gaze searing into your skin as it roams appreciatively all over your body, plowing on, “Though, you look like you’re on the verge of an aneurysm around these old coots.”

You sigh, pinching your nose at the curious glances around you. Not even able to find it in yourself to put on that plastic smile anymore, “Oh y’know, just soaking up my popularity with the masses after being stranded here.”

“Oh? Here with anyone?”

“Yeah.” you blurt out, “Your father.”

You watch in amusement as Satoru’s mouth falls into a delicate oh! eyes flickering over his shades between you and the handsome man on the other end of the venue, oblivious and fully enjoying himself in the company of his secretary. A bit too much without you.

“Y’know…” he starts, shaky and sounding only half the insufferable heir he was before, “I would say that’s a hilarious version of a ‘your mom’ joke but you’re actually serious, aren’t you?”

“Mhm. Though it would make a good punchline, huh?” You huff out a laugh at the way he was suddenly less of a smooth-talking playboy and more of a lost puppy. The gears turning in his head as he processes that oh shit you were the sweet lil’ thing his dad’s been suddenly rushing off to meet straight after work. And the reason why all those old fossils here were clutching their pearls in scandal.

He just didn’t expect you to be this…gorgeous. And for the first time in forever, he’s suddenly so intrigued.

Because ah, you should’ve known better than to think that this little hiccup would deter the infamous Gojo Satoru. No, in fact that million-dollar smirk only makes its way back onto his unfairly pretty face, like he’s about to spill the juiciest gossip of the century.

“So you’re the latest armcandy my ol’ man has picked up, huh? I hafta say, dear old dad has good taste.” he muses, stepping in close enough that his expensive cologne makes your head spin. “Why don’t you and I ah-” You follow Satoru’s gaze to where he was staring at the way his father was now making a beeline through the crowd. Straight for the two of you.

“Gotta run before I get my share of the company revoked.” he flashes you a quick smile, fulling intent on saving his father’s delicate ego. But not before leaning down to whisper in your ear, “But jus’ saying,” voice a pretty little purr, “I wouldn’t ever leave you standing here so alone and gorgeous, princess.”

You can only stand there, reeling from the sheer audacity as he darts into the crowd with a wink, not caring if he stepped on a few too many overpriced coattails than necessary. Wondering whether this was some bizarre dream induced by too much tequila and not enough common sense.

“Hi, sweetheart. Investors held me up, you know how it is. Having fun, huh?” A toned arm wraps around your waist as your sugar daddy finally arrives by your side. And as he went on about his latest business branch, only two thoughts ring through your mind - 1. You were seriously reconsidering this arrangement. And 2. This was going to be interesting.

And oh was it interesting.

Because Satoru always managed to find you, wherever you were. No matter if it was another droning function or a chance meeting at the sprawling Gojo Estate, Satoru always swooped in whenever his father was too busy for you. Which, fortunately for Satoru, happened to be a lot.

Hell, he seemed to find you even when you least wanted him to. Like that time he had to drag you away mid-argument with a particularly rude one of his snobby aunts. That was not a fun family reunion.

All unabashed confidence and pretty smiles where his father was cold, cold calculation. Ready with a smart mouth to bicker with you and bright eyes that seemed to linger on you a bit too long. But you didn’t mind - why would you? Because all things considered, Satoru was a very attractive man. Sure, his father was extremely handsome, too - in a clean-cut, DILF-y way, in fact. But his son was dangerously attractive.

So much so that sometimes when he swept you away from insufferable galas to talk, some strange little part of you wished it was him that you came here with instead. Just for a second.

“So, what do you see in my father anyway? His company?” Satoru asked you one day. Draping himself over his cool office desk, so comically out of place in the stiff corporate room. Legs kicking in the air as he waits for your response.

You tear your eyes away from the way his biceps were straining so deliciously against his snug button-up to deadpan, “I mean, I am his sugar baby after all, Satoru.”

“But think about it,” he whines, batting those long lashes at you. Fully intent on driving you as dangerously close to a stroke as possible before his father finishes up an important business meeting. One that he missed - whoops. “There’s close to nothing redeemable about the man. His idea of a family bonding activity is a PowerPoint presentation on quarterly earnings.”

“Satoru.”

“And either way- I’m getting the company in a few years, would ya be my sugar baby then, princess?”

Ah, there it was.

It’s been a few weeks of knowing Satoru, and those little comments still made your head spin. Second-guessing the nature of this strange little…friendship? You didn’t even know anymore. Because yeah there might’ve been a few, stupid little lingering touches - like a trace on your hips, or your hand firmly in his as he led your (temporary) escape from another lonely gala. But those meant nothing, right?

“Nah, I’d poison you and take over the company instead.”

“Hey!”

Well, whatever, he was just your sugar daddy’s son. His sharp-mouthed, dangerously handsome son that just couldn’t seem to leave you alone. Not that you were complaining, really. Your relationship with his father was not exactly exclusive - you already knew that secretary of his was a bit suspiciously close - but that’s all he’ll ever be. Right?

Or, well, that’s what you stupidly thought.

It wasn’t until one night late in the Gojo Estate, cursing those ridiculously long hallways, that you get an inkling of exactly how wrong you were.

“Ugh, fucking rich people.” you mutter under your breath, wandering around trying to find whether the fuck the bathroom was. Because it doesn’t matter how many companies and businesses Gojo senior ran, the man still sucked at directions. You hiss, rubbing the tiny bruise on your neck - and aftercare too, clearly, even though that was in that damn contract. Something about an urgent business call with his secretary. Ugh.

After three wrong doors, a trip around the in-home planetarium (seriously, who even needed that?), and chugging a full water bottle from the third kitchen in exhaustion, you finally find yourself walking towards what hopefully looked like the bathroom.

Hand reaching for the doorknob to swing it open. Ah, this better be the one or so help you-

Now, Satoru thinks he’s died and gone to heaven. And you - hair mussed, and dazed, standing there in nothing but a large button-up, falling just below your panties - looked like a sinfully beautiful lil’ demon here to lure him into hell. And oh how gladly he’d go if it means he got to see this ethereal view more often.

“Ah! Wha- Sato-”

You don’t even know if you want to scream or not - torn between taking in the sculpted chest smushed against your face and not wanting to alert security downstairs. Reeling backward you drink in the sight before you and God how you wish you didn’t - it wasn’t too good for your heart.

Satoru’s hair was tousled, droplets of water glistening on his hair like diamonds. Skin soft and damp and smelling so delicious. Bathroom light bouncing off his rippling muscles, pecs flexing, as his strong arms reach out to steady you as you reel backwards.

Traitorously, your eyes snake across his sculpted body. Dipping below once. Twice. Cheeks flaring as a pang of disappointment hits you at the damp towel wrapped around that slutty torso. Wondering what’s underneath-

“Y’should take a picture, it lasts longer.” Satoru grins, like the shameless bastard he is. Though he wasn’t in any better state - eyes flickering between you and any sliver of exposed skin his eyes could reach.

“I should be saying the same to you.” you mutter, caught red-handed, shuffling your feet in embarrassment.

Satoru lets out a low chuckle as he pulls you closer minutely, presence practically enveloping you. “Oh, me?” he says, voice dropping to a husky murmur. Thumb tracing that little spot on your neck, “S’hard not to when y’look so appetizing.”

And you don’t even try to pull away because fuck this is Satoru and he looks so good - so warm under your fingertips, even when you jolt at the realization of what exactly he was talking about. Your hand coming up to cover that tiny mark left on your skin from not-too-long ago. A shameful little reminder that this was his son.

You grapple for some - any - sense of normalcy. Warning, “Flattery won’t get you anywhere, Satoru.”

He leans down impossibly, quirking an eyebrow. Both amusement and something unreadable flashing across his face. “Oh, but it’s got my father somewhere?”

“Why? Jealous?”

“Yes.”

You startle, taken aback by the blunt confession. So direct and something so Satoru. The word hands in the hair’s breadth between you two now, sending your mind reeling. And you can’t help but repeat, “Jealous?”

“Fucking yes.” There it was again.

But this time, Satoru plows on, voice barely above a whisper but ringing in the thick air. “Jealous he gets to have you all to himself but still doesn’t kiss you like you should be.”

“What do you-”

“Your lipstick.” he interrupts, swiping a thumb over your bottom lip, “Why’s it as perfect as since you came in?” And, indeed, you realize with a jolt that no you really haven’t been kissed the way you wanted - not enough to leave your make-up so sinfully ruined.

Minty breath fanning your face so dangerously now, and you barely even realize that you’re leaning into it, “If it were up to me, princess, I’d ruin that pretty lil’ lipstick of yours every chance I got.”

A delicious little shiver runs down your spine, head spinning at Satoru and his words and Satoru- And it’s all you can do to get out a shaky, “So why don’t you?”

And then he’s kissing you. And you’re kissing him - like neither of you had the strength nor the will to stop.

Satoru tasted just like candy, such an intoxicating sweetness that had you gasping as his soft tongue licked at the seam of your lips. Intertwining with yours as he breathes you in desperately. So sloppy. Such a sinful little mix of saliva and teeth and pure need.

His chest is soft under your greedy hands, lips searing against yours, and you could feel his hands wandering across every inch of skin they could find. Kissing you like he’ll never be able to again because fuck he knows that he might just not.

Long fingers dance delicately underneath that shirt to feel- oh fuck, you weren’t even wearing panties. Such a pretty lil’ slut and by God was he a goner.

Groaning into the kiss, he lets you loop your arms around his neck, hardened nipples rubbing against his abs as you tug on his damp hair. Honestly, fuck that thin shirt, Satoru thinks he might just pass out right here right now.

“S-Satoru.” you whisper against his lips, legs hiking up to grind your bare cunt against the throbbing erection straining against his towel. Already so wet from water or precum, you had absolutely no idea. You couldn’t give less of a fuck in fact, needing to see if Satoru’s cock was as pretty as the rest of him right now. Hands urgently dipping below the hem, starting to tug and-

“Hey, sweetheart. Did you find the bathroom?”

Shit. Fuck. Wonderful - perfect, in fact.

You would’ve thought Satoru burned you with how quickly you pushed him away. Cheeks burning, breath coming in short, ragged gasps. Almost slipping on the tile as you try to compose yourself at a safe distance - one that wouldn’t end up with you jumping his bones again.

But all rational thoughts of that and your sugar daddy - Satoru’s father - almost go out the window once you take in the heavenly sight before you.

Satoru’s lips swollen, hair disheveled, towel hanging slightly too low off his hips. Giving you such a pretty peak of those tufts of snowy white hair at the bottom.

“W-we shouldn’t…” you trail off, as the footsteps get louder and louder. Something prickly and uncomfortable pooling in your stomach with each beat.

Luckily for you, Satoru probably catches on to how you looked like you wanted the ground to swallow you whole right now. Voice low and control as he agrees, “Yeah, we probably shouldn’t.” No care in the world for his steadily approaching father as he lazily adjusts his towel, a gesture so nonchalant yet distracting.

You swallow hard as he moves to walk past you, thinking that if this just so happened to be a dream then by God was it a good one. But of course - when has Satoru ever let you have it easy?

Because he stops abruptly in his tracks, fingers only ghosting the doorknob. Immediately turning back to walk to you with two, big steps, eyes gleaming, dimple flashing. And before you even know what’s happening, his lips are on yours. Featherlight and fleeting. But so so addictive. Nipping at your bottom lip, savoring you on his tongue.

It’s over before you know it, and a pathetic little disappointed whine leaves you as he pulls away. A smirk playing at the corners of his lips as he mutters lowly into yours, “Y’look prettier like this.”

Ah, you weren’t happy to see him leave but how you loved watching him go. Bathroom light so pretty against all the dips and curves of his figure as he walked away. White hair reflecting the warm hue, muscles flexing, hips slightly swaying with such a slutty little confidence that only Satoru could have.

As you watch him disappear around the door, you almost forget the unwelcome visitor hot on your heels any second now and - wait - what was it that he’d said? “Prettier like this”?

Turning to the mirror and-

Oh. Shit.

You better have brought your make-up remover.

God, Satoru’s never ran to his room as fast as this since that time he was caught using his father’s elite golf clubs to play pool with Suguru.

Because as soon as that goddamn door is shut, he’s ripping his towel off. Letting it drop to the floor in a damp pile God-knows-where as he immediately fists his swollen cock.

With a groan, he leans against the shut door. Eyes scrunching in such sinful ecstasy as he squeezes the base, pulsing and so achingly hard for you. A warning and a reprimand. Shit, how the fuck did he get this hard just from kissing your pretty lil’ lips?

Ah, whatever, right now he doesn’t have the patience nor the sanity to think too hard about it. Smearing the precum beading at his weeping tip, wetting his palm so sloppily.

Neat little crescents searing into his skin where you’d grabbed him before, only thing on his mind - how would you do it?

Would you ease him into it? Or would you start up a hasty, desperate little pace like he was doing right now? Shallow, quick tugs on his thick cock like you wanted to milk him deliciously.

Satoru’s hand was cold on his angry, hot cock. And with how many times he’s slipped his into yours, he knew yours would feel better around him. Both hands wrapped around his cock but still not covering all of it. So soft and warm, your nails scraping gently across his throbbing veins.

“Shit. Hngh-” he breathes out, voice almost-pathetic, “J-jus’ like that, princess.”

And what would you say? Tell him to shut up and just take it? Would you whisper into his ear as you let him fuck himself into your pretty fists? “So hard n’ big all f’me?” Satoru’s knees buckle at the thought, hand speeding up. “Y’look so pretty like this, y’know.”

Slam! Palm slamming against the poor drawer beside him hard enough to make its legs tremble, desperately trying to keep himself from collapsing.

But oh his fist doesn’t stop. No, he doubts he ever will - not that strong of a man to keep himself from getting off so filthily to the image of you standing at the doorway of the bathroom. You looked so ethereal - Satoru couldn’t help but imagine how even more sinful you’d look if he was the one done with you. Shit, you wouldn’t even be able to stand if he had his way.

“F-fuck, princess. M’gonna ruin you, gonna fuck you till you don’t know anything but m’name.”

He grips tighter on the base, thumbing under his slit in a way he knows your devious little hands would do. Fucked-out little grunts leaving his swollen lips each time his fingers meet his flushed tip.

“Ah- Ngh, fuck.” he mutters hoarsely, letting out a low, broken little call of your name. “More. Need more, princess.” He wanted you so badly that it hurt.

What the fuck did that sleazy old man have that he didn’t? And that little bite? That would be nothing compared to what Satoru would do if he got his hands on you. Yeah, he thinks, body shuddering violently, he’d mark you up till everyone knows you’re his. Leave bites that peak out from your collar, all the way down to your pretty thighs.

“Y’belong with me pretty, could fuck you so much better.” Sweat drips from his brow, splashing onto his erratic fist. Thighs quivering, heart pounding wildly in his chest.

Satoru would almost be embarrassed by how desperate he was acting if he was in any better state of mind. Head only filled with you, and your hand and you-

And fuck for the sake of his sanity he can’t even begin to imagine how it would feel inside your pretty lil’ cunt. All he can think of is the way you’d keen so prettily, mewling out a little, “Oh s’too big.”

Would you take him all in one go? Look up at him with those beautiful, teary eyes as you milk his cock? Or would he have to ram his dick into you, because shit as much as he loves that bitchy mouth, it would look so much better gasping and stuttering as he fucks you dumb.

“Oh yeah.” he groans, eyes rolling to the back of his head. “Such a good lil’ slut f’me. Taking m’so well.”

God his hand was so sloppy on his dick that he didn’t even know what he was doing anymore. Just wanting to fuck you and have you do this f’him.

Ah, your plushy walls would suck him in so nicely. One hand speeds up on his cock, while the other reaches down to cradle his balls. Tugging and pulling at the same jerky rhythm they would smack your ass while he stuffs you full.

So much better than any other sugar daddy ever could. Oh how Satoru would love to mess up your pretty pussy and your lipstick. He’d fucking tattoo your lipstick stains on if he could.

And you’d be able to do nothing but gasp and whimper into his lips, cockdrunk and dazed, “Shit shit shit- Toru m’gonna - Hah- Wanna cum. Please wan’ cum-” Oh how he’d burn down this entire fucking world to hear you call him that.

“Fuck,” he curses, bucking into his fist, tight balls twitching so sensitively. “Fuck...fuck fuck fuck. M’gonna cum- shit- gonna cum, princess.”

“Cum f’me, Toru. Fill me up with y’cum- wanna take all of it.”

And then he’s cumming.

A ragged, raw moan of your name leaving his lips. Thick, hot ropes of cum that should be painting your pussy white - but, alas, he’s spilling into his fist so shamefully. And amongst the stars behind his eyes he’s sees you - you you you-

You, fucking your cunt deeper onto his cock to take every drop of his cum. You, whispering sweet little praises as his seed gushes down your thigh, telling him that oh he’s doing so well, and he’s the best boyfriend ever and you already want more-

You, at the arm of his father.

Shit, he needs to shower. Again.

---

Ever since that little incident that night, everything changed.

At this point, you didn’t even feel that usual little bitterness whenever your sugar daddy canceled for some urgent business. And, well, it made you blush to admit but you found yourself heading over to the Gojo Estate more and more frequently, often just to catch a glimpse of Gojo - or a quick kiss in the stuffy broom closet. Whichever left you more time to run away from looming security and his father.

But that was exactly the problem.

Because no matter how thick the tension lingering in the air between you two was, nothing had gone past heated kisses and touches. Either you were brought back to reality with the possibility of being arrested for indecent exposure at those galas, or someone just had to interrupt. Seriously, with how many times Satoru has had to pay off his poor personal assistant, you’ve been wondering whether he actively seeks you two out.

And it really didn’t help that Satoru always tasted so goddamn delicious. Fingers searing on your skin, cologne heavy in the heady air, it was hard to keep your hands to yourself.

But, hey, desperate times bring devious measures.

Which is why you were here right now - sinking into the plushiest bed at the Gojo Estate, clad in your delicate light blue lingerie. One that was custom-made in this specific shade of blue. Because while your sugar daddy preferred you in red, you’re sure he wouldn’t mind you using his credit card for other ulterior motives, right?

You just hoped that Satoru would just so happen to get a peak when you sneak out to use the bathroom later. What would he say? Would he like it? Would his eyes roam over your body, fingers twiddling with the flimsy lace?

But more importantly - would it be enough to make him break? Even if just a little bit?

Knock! Knock! Knock!

You’re startled out of your little whirlwind thoughts by knocking on the door. Steady, and matching your racing heart. Ah, Satoru’s father, you hastily get up to fix your hair.

“Yo, princess, are you naked or can I come in? Or can I come in when you’re naked?”

That wasn’t your sugar daddy.

Not even thinking of your current outfit anymore, you rush to throw the heavy wooden doors open to see that, yes, it really was Satoru standing at the door. All bright grins and flushed cheeks as he drinks you in. Brows raising as his eyes move down from your face once. Twice. Thrice.

Success.

“What’re you doing here, Satoru?” you bat your lashes deceivingly innocently. Trying to hold back the smirk threatening to curl your lips at the way he gulps.

“Uh- My father’s off to some urgent b-business.” he murmurs, scratching the back of his neck. “Told me to tell you he’s sorry and wishes you the breas- best.”

Oh.

Well, it wouldn’t be the first time Satoru’s father has canceled on you. But it would be the first time that he’s canceled on you so conveniently enough to leave you alone with his unfairly hot son. Now, you couldn’t let the opportunity go to waste, right?

You lean slightly against the door, body ghosting Satoru’s, teasing him, “Well, when is my dear sugar daddy coming back from his business? Tell him I miss him.”

It’s a joke - and both of you probably know it. But that doesn’t stop Satoru’s brows furrowing ever-so-slightly, suddenly a different man from the flustered one he was just a few seconds ago as he mutters, “I don’t think he’ll be back tonight.”

“Aww, must be some important business.”

He clenches his jaw aggressively at that, gritting out a clipped little, “You do know that ‘business’ of his is his secretary right?”

“I know. What a shame, right? Guess I’ll just have to go home n’ wait for him then?” you mockingly sigh - God, someone give you an Oscar. Moving to close the door in Satoru’s face, only to be stopped by a large hard smacking into the doorframe - as you knew it would.

“You’re fucking crazy if you think I’m gonna let you come out looking like that and let you go home without tearing it to shreds.”

And that’s all that is said before his lips are on yours.

The door is slamming shut before you know it, and you’re shoved against it. Satoru’s lips such a sloppy mix of teeth and spit. Hands just everywhere - cradling your cheek, teasing your nipples through your bra, running down to squeeze and grope your ass. He just couldn’t get enough of you.

Fuck twiddling with the lace, Satoru seemed well and fully intent to rip it off of you. And you’d let him. Just like he was letting you shove his overpriced button-up down his toned shoulders. Soft little rips sounding in the heady air at the urgency but neither of you could give less of a fuck.

All you could think of is the way Satoru was so pretty and muscled. Drinking in all the dips and curves of pale skin underneath your fingertips.

“Fuck, princess. Chose this color on purpose, huh?” his fingers dive under the hem of your bra, “Wanted to drive me crazy, mm?”

“Y-yes, Satoru.” you gasp into his mouth, and he takes the opportunity to deepen the kiss. “Wanted you to look at it. Got it custom-made all f’you.” words muffled as he sucks on your tongue. Satoru was always such a messy kisser, licking at the seam of your lips and intertwining his tongue with yours with no shame or shyness. A delicate trail of drool already starting at the corner of your mouth.

Ah, it was too much for him. Satoru almost thinks he could cum in his pants right now at your sinful little admission.

Which is why he pulls away to press hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck, letting out a broken little hum of appreciation into your skin. “Thought so.”

And then your bra’s hitting the floor, tits spilling out into the cold bedroom air. But only for a split-second because Satoru’s immediately groping each and every inch of skin he can find.

“Look so fucking beautiful like this.” Rolling your swollen nipples between two fingers as he mutters - more to himself than you, “Was gonna let him see you in this slutty lil’ thing, too?” leaning down to tongue lazily little circles on one nipple. Words muffled as he wraps his lips so prettily around your tit - tugging, just grazing with his teeth, “Matching my eyes, huh? Fuckin’ gonna be the death of me shit-”

Satoru was insatiable. Wanting all of you all at the same time. And you follow his line of sight to see him locked on your dripping cunt - soaking through the thin fabric of your panties. Clenching around nothing as his pretty pink lips fall into a soft oh! at the sight.

Like a madman, he immediately drops to his knees. But you don’t think he even feels the pain as he bites down on the hem of your wet panties. Looking up at you with dazed eyes - miles away.

Breath ghosting your quivering cunt, tugging lightly with his teeth, “Next time, I’m gonna be the one buying you these.”

Then he’s pulling - tearing your drenched panties to shreds. Grinning so devilishly around it as he gets his first sight of your pretty pussy. Oh you were so perfect for him. So mouthwateringly wet.

“Shit, princess. Can’t believe you were fucking holdin’ out on me.” he muses in wonder, eyes wide at the way your sloppy pussy was glistening in the dim lighting.

“You were the one that-”

And usually, Satoru loves hearing you run your mouth, but this time he’s shutting you up by diving face-first into your dripping cunt. Cute little mewls leaving you as he presses so shamefully deep that his nose was against your throbbing clit, rubbing languidly as he licks a thick stripe up your swollen folds.

And then it was like something snapped.

Because one taste of you and Satoru’s going wild. Throwing a leg over his shoulder to lick more desperately all all over your cunt, lapping up all the juices that gush out of you. Already so addicted because shit you were so much sweeter than in his dreams.

“Ah! Hngh- please.” you mewl, as he wraps his glossy lips around your swollen clit. All you get is a feral little grunt, his jaw parted, eyes looking like he’s on cloud nine as starts to suck harshly. Filthy little squelches filling the air as Satoru rolls his tongue across your clit. “Feels, s’good, Satoru.”

But your cute little whines turn into one of disappointment as Satoru pulls away ever-so-slightly. “Call m’Toru.” he slurs.

And he doesn’t waste any more time, tongue swishing in his mouth to spit on you once. Twice. Missing ever so slightly, and splattering on your thigh. You flinch, gasping out a breathless little, “Toru!”

“Oh shit, princess. Yeah- say m’name jus’ like that” he groans, ragged and raw. The last thing out of his mouth before he’s squeezing his soft tongue into your snug cunt. Dipping into your sloppy hole in and out in and out in and-

“He ever made you feel this good?” he moans into your cunt, the vibrations making you fuck yourself deeper into his unrelenting tongue.

“W-what?”

“He ever made you feel this good? Cum so hard you see stars?”

You gasp out a pathetic little sob, “N-no. Want to- Wan’ you to make me cum, Toru. Make me cum around your tongue.”

And, well, what his girl wants - then she’s going to get. Because Satoru’s lapping at your cunt even more greedily than before.

Stretching you out, breathing you in, looking up at your cute expression through his long lashes. Already so fucked-out for him.

Nose rubbing purposefully in small circles on your clit. Fucking you with his tongue the way he wants to with his cock and he didn’t give a fuck if he suffocated in-between your thighs - he fucking loved it.

“Hngh- shit shit shit yes!” your nails are digging into Satoru’s scalp at this point. The only thing steadying yourself to prevent you from collapsing onto the ground. And you really can’t help but angle his head just right so that his tongue curls against that one spot inside your plushy walls.

Thankfully, he gets the memo. Because Satoru’s letting out a strangled little grunt at being so used by you as you drag your cunt across his pretty mouth. Body jerking into his as he hits that spot over and over-

“T-Toru- hah!” thighs quivering, Satoru’s grip bruising as he holds you up. “M’m gonna-” Your plushy walls sucking him up, thighs squeezing around his face.

“Mhm?”

“Cum! M’gonna cum- ah- fuck fuck fuck-”

He groans huskily into your cunt. Throwing his head back ever-so-slightly to let your slick slide down his throat - greedily waiting for more that was to come. “Then show me how you cum, m’girl. Cum all over my tongue.”

And then you are - all over Satoru’s pretty face. And fuck he doesn’t think you’ve ever looked prettier. Holding his head in place as you rock your hips into his waiting mouth, letting him drink you in so greedily. Clamping down on his tongue like you were trying to milk him.

And if you were in any better state of mind, you’d notice the delirious little heart eyes that Satoru was giving you, your cunt firm on his face and swollen lips letting out such pretty whines of his name. Toru Toru Toru - like a prayer as you fucking use him for your high.

Ah, he could stay like this forever, he thinks. But no, an empty house and you all wet n’ pretty for him means there’s too much more to do.

Which is why he’s pulling away, your slick decorating his lips so prettily. Smeared across the bottom half of his face and dripping onto the hardwood floor in a maddening little drip! drip! drip!

And Satoru knows, with the way you watch him so intensely, mouth parted, eyes glossy. Which is why he runs a thumb along his mouth, pooling your juices on his fingers and popping them into his mouth. One by one.

Your jaw drops a little in disbelief as Satoru licks his fingers clean, eyes rolling to the back of his head at your addictive taste. Oh he was ruining you without even touching you.

“Not enough, princess.” he chuckles. “C’mon, gimme a kiss.”

And, really, how could you ever say no to that face? Because you’re pulling him to you as soon as Satoru stands to his full height. Capturing his lips in such a sloppy, filthy kiss - forcing you to taste yourself and you half-lucidly wonder whether Satoru loved the taste almost as much as you because it was so him.

Bodies so close that your dripping cunt was seeping into his unfairly tight shirt. Forming a lewd little dark patch when Satoru lifts you effortlessly to guide you to the bed. Tongue still entwining obscenely with yours as he splays you out on the soft mattress for him. Drinking in that adorable lil’ shock on your face as you bounce on the bed, so drunk off of him that you didn’t even realize he was taking you to the bed.

“Shit, y’look the prettiest like this, princess. S’a wonder m’not fucking passing out right now.” he hisses into your lips.

“Toru-” you whine, and shit the way his cock jumps at the mere sound of your voice makes you think that this will be a little trick you’re using more often. “Wan’ your cock s’bad. Wanna-”

You don’t even have the patience to finish the sentence before you’re fumbling with his belt. Something hefty and overpriced but you can’t possibly think about that right now because fuck you get the first sliver of milky skin.

Satoru’s thighs were so sculpted and thick. It made your mouth absolutely water to wonder what it would feel like to ride them to insanity.

“Y’wanna ride my thighs? Fuck princess, you really are driving me crazy.”

Shit had you said that out loud?

Ah, well, it doesn’t matter because Satoru’s pulling his boxers down - so tight with his swollen cock, a dark patch right where his weeping head was. And you almost pout at losing the opportunity to take them off but oh how you’re distracted by the sinful sight before you.

Satoru was massive - so long and flushed your favorite shade of pretty pink. Shit, you were going to have to get a lingerie set in this color one of these days. He was achingly hard and throbbing, springing up to smear precum all over his abs.

And before you can even react, Satoru’s pulling you to him. Manhandling your pretty self so easily to straddle one, large thigh.

“Oh- hngh, Toru.” you look up at him all doe-eyed and teary as he doesn’t even wait for you to register what’s all happening. Grip bruising on your hips as he rocks your hips so sluttily on his leg. “F-feels s’good. Ah-”

“Yeah? Y’like it? Like getting yourself off like a lil’ slut on my thigh?” he groans into your ear, low and husky with need.

You nod wildly, sloppy pussy dripping all over his thigh, seeping into his skin as you grind your hips to meet his movements. “Like it s’much- ah-”

“Mhm? Better than anything he could ever do?”

“Yes yes yes, Toru-” you sob, cheeks burning as you realize that you’re humping him like a bitch in heat - but oh judging by the carnal little glint in his eyes, he liked it. Loved it, even. Because Satoru could feel the way your swollen folds spread to grind against him, clit pulsing so maddeningly against his skin. So filthy and messy as you used him to get yourself off. “S’much better- the best-”

He just didn’t expect to feel a soft hand wrapping around his cock. Eyes flying open to see you - all glassy-eyed, and fucking yourself on his thigh - wrap a hand around his cock. Starting to move in shallow, unsteady little motions up and down his throbbing cock to get him off at the same time as you.

“Wan’ you to cum, too, Toru.”

“Oh fuck.” he grunts, letting his hips fuck up into your fist in mindless little motions. “Y’don’t know what you’re doing to me.”

And with that his fingers were digging into the skin of your hips, forcing you to hold on for dear life as he drags your dripping cunt faster and faster across his thick. Movements erratic and frenzied now.

Of course, you were not one to be out-done.

Satoru’s precum spilling down your hand, your wrist now aching and wet, becoming so, so sloppy trying to get both yourselves off. But you still tighten your fist around his pulsing cock, desperately flying up and down his length. Pulling in quick, jerky motions to milk him for all he’s worth again and again and-

“You’re so oh- good f’me, princess.” he hums. “Your hngh- hands are so p-pretty wrapped around my cock. So perfect for me.” Bucking his hips wildly to meet your hand now, fucking your fist with no shame. Pulling you harsher on his thigh. “S’such a shame you had to hah fuck- meet my father first. I’d have been so much better.”

“Toru!” you squeal as one hand moves deftly from your hips to draw quick, hasty little circles on your throbbing clit. The friction from his thigh and fingers too much to handle.

“I’d make you happier.” Your body is shaking now, hands messy and trembling around his swollen cock. “I’d make you laugh more and give you all m’time.” You can’t even look at him at this point, eyes scrunched close in ecstasy as Satoru whispers these maddening little phrases into your open mouth.

“I’d make you cum harder.”

Oh and then you are - tears in your eyes, body convulsing into his as you cum. And of course he’s smirking smugly as he watches you ride your high out on his thigh, brows furrowed and bottom lip bitten in concentration as he holds off cumming. Not now. Not yet.

“So, better than him or not?”

But shit was it hard.

Especially when you raise your pretty, barely-lucid eyes to meet his, whimpering out a soft little, “I don’ know yet, Toru. Gonna hafta stuff me full of your cock if you wanna know.”

And perhaps for the first time since you walked in on him after the shower that night, the great Gojo Satoru is taken aback. Eyes widening in surprise, kiss-bitten lips falling into a soft oh! of disbelief. But not for long - never for long - because a devilish little grin breaks out across his face immediately afterwards.

“Shit, y’really are perfect f’me, princess.”

With a low growl, Satoru is easily pulling your body - limp and boneless in his hands - to straddle his toned hips.

You let out a yelp at the feeling of his fat tip just kissing your swollen folds, dragging teasingly along them, collecting the slick beading out of your sloppy cunt. Back and forth-

“Who’s got you feeling this way?”

“You, Toru.”

And then he’s pushing in, swollen cock bullying into your snug pussy. Thumbs drawing steady little circles on your hips - yes to reassure you but also to fight off that feral little part of himself that just wants to stuff your pretty lil’ pussy full until his heavy balls smack your ass. Not even waiting for you to adjust.

But no. No, it was so much better when you were the one desperately trying to suck up his cock. Gasping and moaning out strangled little whimpers of his name as you sink yourself down on his throbbing dick. Inch by fucking inch.

“S’too big- Hngh! I-is it even halfway in?” you whimper out, and Satoru could almost laugh humorlessly as he tilts his head to glance downwards and shit- he was barely a quarter in.

“No.”

“F-fuck” cute little tears streaking down your face now, thighs trembling, “Toru, I-I don’t think I can-”

“You can. And you will.” Fucking up into you in short, rapid little jabs to squeeze himself deeper into your tight pussy. Shit, it was such a squeeze, you were milking the ever-loving soul out of him. And it only made him impossibly harder inside you, making you whine and grind down - torn between chasing the feeling of being so deliciously full and the sheer pressure. “Shit, love when your pussy’s sucking me up so good.”

One hand is on your hip, sliding you farther and farther down his cock, the other drawing urgent, quick patterns on your clit. Not even circles anymore because shit Satoru doesn’t have the patience nor the sanity for that. Throbbing veins rubbing so sinfully against that one spot in your dripping cunt, splitting you apart to the same rhythm as the pulsing.

And as soon as your ass meets his heavy balls - already so wet with precum and slick - Satoru doesn’t even know if he’s on planet Earth anymore. Mind spinning, he doesn’t waste any time at all.

“Fuck yes.” Satoru hisses, throwing his head back. “Fucking finally.” He pulls his hips back, far enough that his angry, red tip is just kissing your sloppy entrance, surging forward, forward, forward- “Y’don’t know how fucking long I’ve wanted this, princess. Needed this s’bad, so so bad you don’t understand. Shit.”

And, hey, his girl deserved to be fucked dumb, right?

“Needed this ever since I saw you at that goddamn gala.” he whispers into your lips, ragged and so fucked-out. Each word punctuated by a harsh, heavy thrust. Ones that have you keening and grasping Satoru’s broad back for support. Nails raking down his shoulders as his pace gets faster. More purposeful.

And you can do nothing but take it, barely even able to form any coherent sentences. So prettily sat on Satoru’s lap as he fucks into you, babbling sweet little nonsenses made for your ears only. “Ever since I saw that murderous little glare you threw at those snobby guests.”

His balls smacking against your ass over and over. A quick, steady little tempo that you were losing your mind to. “Ever since you let me take your hand and drag you away to that secret bar to take shots instead of champagne.”

You don’t know whether you’re even crying at this point - all you know is that your cheeks are wet and your voice is broken as your let out a little, “F-fuck, Satoru- but your fa-”

“Fuck that.” he whines, and you could almost laugh at the adorable pout that makes its way onto his face. And at that you can feel him jolt so deliciously, head snapping up to meet yours. “I’m the better one.”

And as if he’s trying to prove it to your cunt, he’s drilling into you faster. Harder. Hips burning now as he fucks you like some animal. Hitting that sweet spot over and over. “I’m the one with the personality and the looks.” Long fingers almost a blur on your clit as he matches his place. Cock hot, and throbbing inside you.

“I’m the heir, I get the company, too, if that’s what you like.” He’s bouncing you on his cock animalistically now. Hungry gaze taking in the way you’re sucking him up so well. “And I’m funnier one, I’m the one that should be by your side.”

You see stars behind your eyes at both the pleasure and sheer overstimulation as Satoru starts fucking your cunt as best he could without fucking breaking you - but, honestly, he didn’t give a shit if you cried. He just wanted to stuff you full and have you cum harder than you ever have in your life.

“Fuck- fuck yes m’gonna cum Toru- hngh.” You pull him closer to you, allowing him to bury his face in the crook of your neck. “M-make ah! Make me cum, fill me up please, Toru.”

You feel him shudder inside you, balls squeezing so painfully. Hips sloppy and absolutely soaked with precum and slick. “Sh-shit, you’re not too good for m’heart. Ngh, f-fuck- I should be the one to make you cum. Over and over until you don’t know what it feels like to not.”

“Toru!” your eyes fly open, “Yes yes yes- it’s you. Only you-”

Oh, like something snapped then Satoru’s surging forward to bite down on the crook of your neck. Hard. You’d almost think he was out to draw blood. And then with a low groan, and one, harsh little thrust, Satoru’s cumming and cumming inside your pretty pussy. And you are too - back arching as you milk his cock through his high.

Fingers digging into your skin as he holds your hips to his, letting your cunt be filled up so sloppily. Pumping thick, hot ropes of seed that dribbled out of you each time he pumped his hips into yours. Fucking it deeper and deeper inside you.

And then you’re both collapsing, the exhaustion suddenly hitting the both of you as Satoru moves you both to lay on the mattress. Fuck, Satoru watches in wonder as his cum gushes out of you and forms a wet little pool on the expensive sheets as he starts to pull out. One round might just not be enough.

Yet not yet - he can feel his eyes drooping, muscles aching as he pulls your sticky body closer to his. And Satoru knows he should get up and wipe you both down. But right now, he’s too drunk off the heat of your body and that angry little bite on your neck. Distracted by the cute lil’ expression on your face, so tired and thoroughly fucked out. Fingers playing with his hair, looking at him with an expression so fond - just like in his dreams.

Nothing more is said. And all is quiet in your strange little heaven.

That is, until - “So, princess. Wouldn’t ya wanna be an heiress instead of a sugar baby?”

A/N. How we feeling???

Plagiarism not authorized.

#gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk #jjk fic #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #tonywrites

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jamespotterismydaddy · 1 month ago

Text

On the Brink

joel miller x reader smut

description: you’ve been wanting him for so long but joel can’t bring himself to give you what you want, what you deserve. a near death experience makes him realize how much he needs you

WORD COUNT: 4,2 k words

WARNINGS: smut, angst, age gap, semi-public sex, it’s also fluffy and cute at the start so no complaining about the angst

Your eyes watch him from across the yard with that same look you’ve had for the past few months. He knows what it is. Of course he knows what it is- he’s not an idiot… but that doesn’t mean he can ever acknowledge it. You’re young. Not a child by any means but for god’s sake, you’re half his age. There will be no entertaining these longing glaces you throw his way.

It was innocent at first, or at least he thinks it was. You would knock on his door, ask for his advice when it came to things like shooting and whatnot. He liked being helpful, useful. He liked that it was him that you came to, not Tommy even if he was known to be a sharpshooter. He thought that you looking up to him was the part he liked; he’s starting to realize that what he really likes is your attention.

“You need some help there, Mr. Miller?” You ask sweetly as he pulls in the planks of wood. He didn’t even see you walk over.

Joel rolls his eyes. You know he doesn’t like it when you call him that. Makes him really feel his age. “Not from you, trouble.”

He was getting the supplies together because part of his front porch was rotting and he’d be damned if he fucked his knee up some more stepping through a weak plank. He could use the help, but he just doesn’t want your help.

“You getting sick of me already?” You say, giving him that ‘kicked puppy’ look that would make any man’s heart melt. He doesn’t like how it makes him feel more than sympathy.

“Course not.” He grumbles. “I did just see you this morning though.”

“What can I say… i’m clingy.” You shrug and grin at him with a smile so bright it could light up the sky.

“Go be clingy with somebody else.” He waves you off as he picks up his pencil and ruler to start marking lines on the wood. “I’m sure any man in Jackson would appreciate it.”

You stop for a moment, like you see something underlying in his words. “That seems to imply that you don’t think my attention is purely friendly.”

He rolls his eyes and scoffs but doesn’t give you any more of an answer.

“Besides, are you not a man in Jackson?” You ask teasingly, wanting to get more out of him.

He tries to keep his focus on his work so his attention doesn’t feed into your teasing. “That’s different.” He grumbles.

“Why is it different?”

He sighs, keeping his head low but letting his eyes rise up above his glasses to meet yours. “It’s different because i’m an old man in Jackson.”

You frown a little. You know what he means but you want him to explain it anyhow. “What are you saying?”

“I’m sayin’ that I can’t entertain…” He gestures with his hand. “... whatever this is that you’ve been doing for the past few weeks.”

He knows. Of course he knows; you haven’t been exactly subtle. You just never thought you would be able to make him say it out loud. “And what have I been doing?”

“Askin’ too many damn questions.” He grumbles under his breath and grabs his ruler to check his cut lines again. What is it all those carpenters say? Measure twice, cut once? That must’ve been a rule he would live by.

“What is it that i’m doing, Joel?”

He stops with his work now to look up at you properly. He seems like he’s about to speak but pauses for a moment, knowing that if he addresses this then it’s out in the open. He won’t be able to neatly pack up this conversation and put it in a safe where nobody can find it. Whatever is going on between the two of you… it’s pandora’s box.

But in the moment, he can’t find it in himself to care.

“You’re flirtin’ with me, sweetheart.”

“I am.” Is all you say in reply, looking into his eyes far too deeply.

He’s a little surprised and was half expecting you to deny it. “Well you shouldn’t.”

“How come?” Your quick little replies are irritating him now.

He rubs his forehead with his thumb, feeling frustrated. You’re not stupid and you know he’s twice your age. You know why you shouldn’t. You know it makes him feel wrong. So why act so clueless?

“It ain’t right.” He grumbles. “I’m too old for ya.”

“I don’t mind.” You say softly. “I would still like you if I was 10 years older.”

“It’s not about you liking me. It’s about what’s good for you.” He sighs. “And an old man ain’t it.”

“I hardly care about pre-outbreak morals, Joel.”

“I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about what you deserve. A man that can keep up with you, take care of you even 20 years from now. I can’t be that.” He looks almost nervous now. He feels the same way he did when he asked Tommy to take Ellie to the fireflies. It’s a different sense of care but he still doesn’t feel worthy for you in the same way that he didn’t feel worthy for her.

“It’s you that I want.”

He sighs.

“There’s plenty more age-appropriate men in Jackson who’d be chomping at the bit for a chance with you. You should go and take your pick of them.” He continues, trying his best to push you away. It’s not like he doesn’t want you. Christ, he really wants you. But he also cares about you and that means he’s gotta try to nudge you in the right direction.

“I took my pick. Currently, he’s being difficult.” You say and he scoffs as he tries not to think about how endearing he finds your quick wit.

“I said age-appropriate.”

“Well there’s no other man i’m interested in.” You understand why he’s trying to convince you that he’s not somebody you should spend your time on. Maybe there was a time when things like age were more important but it feels miniscule now in the great span of things and besides, you can tell when he’s being self destructive. “So it hardly matters how many there are to choose from.”

He furrows his brows. Joel can hardly understand why it would be him you would want. He originally thought whatever you were feeling was a passing fantasy due to proximity, but it’s starting to appear as if it’s more than that. You’re just so full of light; he doesn’t want to ruin that.

“Y’know I can probably finish up here on my own. I ‘preciate your help though.” It makes him uncomfortable to realize your attention isn’t going to be quite as fleeting as he thought. He doesn’t know how to react to it. It’s not that he wants to hurt you. He’s just never been a man of many words.

“Um… yeah okay. No problem.” You try not to show how upset you are but it hurts for him to brush you aside so easily. “Bye.”

You walk off, regretting trying to push his hand, regretting the conversation in general… and most definitely regretting that you agreed to fill in for Tommy on his patrol shift with Joel in the morning.

~~~~~

When he walks into the stables the next day, Joel’s ready to grumble to his brother about how he has no damn coffee left and slept like shit, but is stopped in his tracks when he finds you tacking up Bellard.

You don’t turn around to look at him, you already recognize the sound of his heavy footsteps and besides, who else would be in the stables at 8am?

“I promise i’m not trying to stalk you. I already agreed to cover Tommy’s shift. Ben’s still not feeling well.” You tighten the cinch on the horse, not wanting to have any more whoopsies involving your saddle half slipping off like when you were just learning to ride.

“Didn’t think you were.” He says, already able to tell how your voice is colder. You’re more closed off to him now.

You put your foot into the stirrup and swing your leg over so you’re sat on the saddle. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, Joel.” It’s ironic really, they way you sound so vulnerable when you speak even though you are literally sitting up on your high horse.

“You don’t make me uncomfortable, sweetheart.” He says as he gets up onto his horse as well, giving her a light nudge with his heel to get her moving. “You could never make me uncomfortable.”

His false mirror words don’t fool you, the illusion shattered like glass by his nervous mannerisms. You know your conversation with him yesterday made things weird and you’re starting to wish you’d just ignored the whole thing like a normal person. You’d just really felt the need to defend yourself, never wanting to chase a man who doesn’t want you. Even if you have a feeling that he does.

But he ignores it. For the whole patrol he ignores it. The slight crack you saw in his demeanor has melded itself back together and he is back to the gruff man he usually is.

What you don’t see is his watchful eye, ever on you, protectively. You don’t know that it’s the same way that he watches Ellie and Tommy. The only people he would risk everything for, the only people that he makes sure are safe before himself. But it isn’t quite the same, is it? There’s something more in his gaze as it’s cast upon you, a hint of the same longing you have when your eyes fall on him.

“Did you hear that?” Your question puts him on alert right away. He tries to listen and he thinks his old ears are failing him before he hears the crash. It’s coming from a cabin east of Jackson, one that’s been checked through multiple times, even by Joel himself. While patrol routes are changed often, buildings are still checked regularly for anyone that might be hiding out. Clickers are of course dangerous but thinking, intelligent humans are much worse.

“Stay here. I’ll get closer and see if it’s anything to worry about.” He says, like it’s a command.

“I’m your partner, not your sidekick. I won’t let you go in there alone just because you don’t think I make good backup.”

“Jesus, woman ya really think that’s why I want you to stay behind?” You give him a look that says that’s exactly what you think but he doesn’t have time to validate you when there’s a chance that something dangerous is in that cabin right now. “Just follow at a distance then at the very least.”

That’s enough for you so you nod and the both of you hop off your horses and tie them up, not wanting them to spook at the first sign of whatever is in that cabin.

The two of you approach slowly and you try not to flinch at the crashing sounds so you can hold your gun straight. You also don’t want Joel to sense your fear. It’s not helpful for him to be worrying about you. You won’t be a distraction. He moves around the side of the cabin to look through the window and mouths the word ‘infected’ to you, holding up three fingers. You nod to show your understanding and he starts to make his way back, likely to come up with an action plan.

Though he barely makes it two feet when one of the horses whinnies. You both freeze. It wasn’t that loud, right? How good could an infected’s hearing possibly be?

Your answer comes moments later when they burst through the front door, but they don’t hear Joel. You’re the one who is in direct line of the horses.

“Shit.” You breathe out as you aim your gun and make a shot for the one in front, missing the head but hitting it in the shoulder. A shoulder shot doesn’t stop a runner.

“Goddamn it.” Joel acts quick, putting a bullet through the one closest to him with easy precision. The infected drops to the ground.

The one closest to you is still moving fast and you know you need to make this shot because if Joel misses, the last one will be on you before you can even think. You keep your hands steady, too pumped full of adrenaline to shake like you were before, and you pull the trigger.

You hear a gunshot, but it isn’t yours as Joel takes down the other runner. Your gun never fired.

Because your gun is jammed.

You pull the trigger again, and again, frantic now.

It’s no use so you drop the useless weapon. You look down for a moment to draw your knife but it’s too late as the infected tackles you to the ground.

“Joel!” The call rips out from your throat and Joel is sure he’s never heard such terror in anyone’s voice before. Well… not so sure.

You hold the infected back as well as you can, knowing that it’s over if you’re bitten, but you don’t have to push it back for long.

Joel’s gun fires and the shot rings true as the mindless flesh creature falls off next to you. A headshot taken from just the right position so the bullet wouldn’t graze you.

“Are you hurt?” The fear in his eyes matches your own as he kneels in front of you and seems to check you for injury over anything else.

Then he pauses.

“Are you bit?”

The thought comes to you at the same time. You were so dazed during the attack that it’s something you actually have to think about.

“I um… no.” You stumble over your words for a moment before speaking more confidently. “No, it didn't bite me.”

“Good.” He nods and moves on quickly, helping you to your feet.

He starts to move around, checking the infected, checking the house. He’s not focused on you anymore, like he wants to be distracted from the thought.

“One of them probably got bit a day or two back. Didn’t tell his friends and then…” He trails off, gesturing to the bodies. “This happened. Don’t think it’s something to worry about too much though. Probably an isolated event.”

He explains, but he’s rambling. Joel Miller doesn’t ramble. The near death experience is brushed under the rug, but you won’t have that.

“Joel.” You start but he cuts you off.

“I can write up the report for it. I know that’s something you’re not a fan of.” It’s idle talk, nothing of value.

“Joel.” You say his name more firmly now and he looks up at you. “I almost died.”

He clenches his jaw, the tenseness in the conversation now unavoidable. You walk closer and it takes everything in him to not step away. He wants to leave, wants to push it down, but you almost died. He can hardly wrap his mind around it. If he had shot that runner a second later, it would have bitten you, at the very least, and his next bullet would’ve been in your head.

“I know.” He grumbles.

“Do you? Because you won’t look me in the eye.” There’s desperation in the way you look up at him and it’s like he’s staring through you instead of at you.

He lets out a breath and it kills you because you can’t tell what he’s feeling. There’s emotion in his eyes but you just don’t know which one.

“Please don’t shut down on me.” Your hand rises to touch his shoulder and he feels warmth bloom in his chest. He hasn’t felt that in a long time.

His eyes finally flicker down to yours and then to your lips for just a moment. He should think about what he’s doing, he knows that. Your age should be enough to put him off, but he almost lost you only minutes ago.

He won’t deny himself any longer.

Joel’s hand lifts to your chin and your eyebrows twitch slightly in confusion as he tilts your chin up. You part your lips to speak but don’t get the chance because his mouth is now on yours. All his hunger and need and desire finally come out as he kisses you harshly. His other hand finds your waist and he pulls you against him, never breaking the kiss. It’s like he doesn’t need air to breathe as he pushes his lips against yours and walks you back until a tree stops you. His tongue pushes into your mouth and he groans when feeling yours push back.

He pulls back and you worry that he regrets it, thinking he acted irrationally or emotionally. Those worries are quelled when he focuses his attention on your neck, leaving gentle kisses and sucking on the soft skin just the right amount so it won’t leave any marks. You let out a soft moan as his fingertips graze up your thigh before gripping it firmly and lifting it up against him.

“I need you, Joel.” You whisper so softly that he’s not even sure he heard you correctly.

“Hm, honey?” He still isn’t fully focused as he trails kisses up your jawline.

“I need it.” You whine a bit and he frowns.

“No.” He murmurs against your skin, kisses so soft and featherlight that you can’t be convinced he’s even touching you. “Not here. You deserve better than here.”

“Please. I’ve been waiting for so long.” You slip your hand under the hem of his shirt. “Been so patient.”

A hint of a smile graces his face. “Patient? Sweetheart, you’re begging me to fuck you in a forest in the middle of our patrol.”

“You’re the one who kissed me.” Your hand slides up his chest. “You gotta finish the things you start, Mr. Miller.”

His hand grabs your other thigh and he lifts you up so you’re pushed against the tree. “You know I don’t like it when you call me that.”

You bite your lip, enjoying the feeling of him lifting you up with ease, like he’s got something to prove. “I know.”

“Then you should learn to watch your mouth.”

You smirk, knowing just how easy it is to rile him up. “Why don’t you watch it for me?”

He huffs as if your bratty little comments annoy him, but you know he likes it. It’s easy to tell by the way his lips find yours once again. His moves are messy and imprecise. It’s so unlike him to be so reckless but it’s you that brings it out of him.

Hands are pulling at clothes and you’re quickly at a point where your pants are off enough for him to touch you. His fingers waste no time pushing past your underwear to tease you. The movements are slow now, just enough to leave you wanting for more.

“Joel.” You try to scold but it comes out more like a breathy moan.

“Hmm?” He’s not focused on your face anymore, no matter how pretty it might be. He’s more concerned with how many fingers he can push inside you before you start to whine.

“Joel.” You pout again as he feels your wetness pooling in his palm.

Three then. He thinks to himself, calculating how long he’ll have to wait to let you adjust to his cock before he can fuck you how he wants. But he already knows he’ll be pushing your limits.

“Shh, baby. Clearly, you’re not as patient as you claim to be.”

You can’t even reply, not with how good it feels when his fingers start to curl inside you. Joel continues the motions for a minute or so but it’s not what you want. It feels so damn good but this isn’t the way you want to finish.

You start to push him away and he stops as soon as he sees the hesitation.

“Everything alright?” He asks and your heart melts at the tenderness in his voice.

“I wanna feel something a little bigger.”

He rolls his eyes. “No damn patience.” He unbuckles his belt and starts to unbutton his jeans. “I’ll give you what you want then.”

He pulls his jeans halfway down his thighs- his very nice thighs- so he can pull himself out of his boxers. There’s no more slow, teasing actions. He wants to show you what your impertinence gets you. Lifting you back up with just one hand, he uses the other to guide his cock to your entrance.

As the head pushes in, he watches your face so he can see how you struggle to take it. You won’t speak up though, not after you whined and begged for him to fuck you. He might be a lot bigger than you’ve had before but that doesn’t mean you can’t take it.

Joel doesn’t want to miss the look on your face as he pushes in but can’t help but glance down. The sight of your desperate pussy sucking him in more and more is almost enough for him to finish there and then, but he holds off. He won’t let this be something you regret.

“Fuck.” He groans as he pushes the rest of the way into you with a sharp thrust. You whimper, hiding your face in his neck. “It’s okay, baby. You’re doing so well.”

The praise makes your cheeks heat and he starts to pull himself back out again before you hear the slick squelch of another deep thrust.

“Shit, Joel.” The stretch stings but it’s a good hurt.

“I know. I was trying to prepare you but you never fucking listen.” His words sound sympathetic, no matter how harsh they are, but the way he punishes you with his dick seems to contrast that.

His hands hold up both your thighs as he leans you against the tree for more leverage so he can pull his hips back and fuck into you deeper and deeper.

“Mmm.” You moan, unable to form thoughts, let alone words.

The way the head of his cock hits just the right spot before slipping up to kiss your cervix makes you feel pleasure in a way you couldn’t previously fathom. You’ve never been fucked like this before and it just makes it oh so better because it’s him fucking you.

Joel’s deep brown eyes feel like they’re burrowing into your soul with the way he’s watching you. He lives for it, your reactions, every little sound you make. It all makes him harder as he slams into you rougher with each thrust.

“You feel so perfect, sweetheart. Taking me so damn well, finally learning how to listen.”

“Dick.” You grumble and he chuckles.

“I’m not the one who begged for this.” His hips push against yours. You didn’t think he’d be able to get even deeper but he does. “Fucking begged, honey.”

“I’m not the one who let go of all my morals for it though, either.”

It’s a dangerous thing for you to point out, almost threatening enough for him to stop. But it’s also another thing he likes about you. You always bite back. There is even some part, some sick part, of him deep down that enjoys how wrong it is. It enjoys that you, being so beautiful and smart and full of life… and so young still want him. You could have any man between your thighs but it’s Joel whose fucking you.

“I’m close, Joel.” You say after his fingers have crept down to rub between your legs. He needs you to finish first, needs it bad.

“Cum for me. Wanna feel you squeezing around me. Wanna know how you love it.”

His pace never falters as he leads you to the edge, drawing in and out of you with a pace that you didn’t think a man his age could hold. It just feels so good; you want it to last forever, but all good things end eventually.

“F-Fuck.” You moan and he feels it as your walls tighten around his cock. It almost makes him cum instantly but he pushes through enough to lead you through your high.

You’re panting now as he pulls out, spilling himself onto the forest floor. You look up at him as he lets you down gently. You’re scared, scared that it’s over now, scared that this was a one time thing. And he just won’t fucking look at you.

“Joel?” Your voice cracks. God, you hate how you can’t control it.

His head snaps back right away and when you look into his eyes… it’s not regret that you see. “It’s okay, trouble. You did good.” There is something more in the way he comforts you. “We’re good.”

It’s not much of an explanation but it relieves you. You understand him and though he didn’t speak many words, you know what lies between the lines. This isn’t the end of what’s between you.

comment to be added to taglist

@grayandthyme @littledes1re just thought I’d tag my new moots because y’all’s writing inspired me to get back into it :)

#joel miller #joel miller smut #tlou #tlou smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal

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itzpookiepooh · 1 month ago

Text

Take Me Home

You tell them you wanna go home

You guys were in the parking lot when you decided to pull this stunt—and my goodness those big bunny eyes he gave you. You would never miss a chance to mess with Xavier but this joke was too good to pass up. You had to do this or else you’d never know what his reaction would be. Come on, did you really need a reason to prank him?

“I wanna go home.” You say sadly making him look over at you. His face was filled with sorrow. He didn’t want you to go home besides he just got you out of the house.

“Why?” He asks his soft voice with worry. You hold your breath trying not to laugh.

“I just wanna be alone that’s all.” You shrug pretending to be sad. He slides into the car giving you eye contact.

“Is it something I did?” He asks getting closer to you. You stare at him and he looked really good today. His messy hair from the wind really set the tone.

“No, of course not.” You coo holding his face squishing it. “Promise?” He muffles between his squished cheeks.

“I promise baby.” You kiss all over his face, “Can you stay?” He asks you looking into your eyes.

You smile sweetly at him, “Of course.” You couldn’t prank him with him being this cute.

Rafayel had been painting for hours when you decided to pull this on him. You got bored and needed something to do. Your game was less entertaining now than ever. You got up, sighed, and stretched before announcing your departure. He was confused because he drove you here. It’s nearly midnight.

“I think I’m going to go home.” You tell him as you crack your back. He freezes before his eyes shift to yours.

“Why?” He pouts with furrowed brows. You shrug before grabbing your bag.

“Just feel like being alone.” You tell him making him fully turn towards you. Alone? Not on his watch.

“You sick? I got medicine here.” He tells you before going to get it. “M’not sick.” You answer.

“Oh you’re tired. I have a bed. You know where it is go lie down.” He points towards the hallway.

“M’not tired.” You chuckle shaking your head. He tapped his chin before snapping.

“You’re hungry! Why didn’t you say something cutie?” He rushed to the kitchen making you laugh.

“I’m just joking Raf!” You yell after him as you hear pots, pans, and other utensils clash.

You and Caleb were flying around courtesy of your personal pilot. You decided now was better than never. You set the mood getting quieter and distant as he kept glancing over to you.

“What’s wrong?” He asked before focusing on the sky again. “I wanna go home.” You blurt out making him almost jerk the plane.

He puts it into cruise mode and looks at you with puppy eyes. You knew he was about to start he always does. Those eyes told it all.

“Is it me? Something I did?” He questioned making you shake your head. “I just wanna go home.” You shrug as he continues to stare at you.

“Something’s wrong though. I can see it.” He touches your cheek making you look back at him. You involuntarily choke a laugh.

“You think you’re so funny.” He shakes his head before going back to the controls.

“Love youuuu.” You sing as you laugh.

Sylus came and got you after telling you in the most intricate way that he wants to spend time with you. You were with him for only 2 hours before you decided to prank him.

“Sylus, I want to go home.” You huff as you hang off of his couch. His eyes shift to you.

“Are you bored?” He asked as he puts his reading glasses down and looks at you. You shrug and look to the side.

“I just wanna be alone.” You said softly as you play with the fabric of the couch.

“You sound sad…is everything alright?” He turns to give you his undivided attention. You nearly cracked at those boba eyes.

“You make playing pranks so hard.” You huff and cross your arms. He smirks before chuckling. He knows what he’s doing.

Zayne liked being around you. You promised to spend today with him since you’re both off work. He took you to this restaurant he walked by last week and as you were waiting to get your lunch you decided it was now or never.

“I think I’m ready to go home.” You said as you traced your finger on the table. Zayne looked up with big eyes before looking around.

“Right now? What happened?” He was worried about how fast your mood changed. You were just smiling.

“Yeah…I just want to be alone right now.” You sigh before leaning back in the chair.

“Is it something I did? If it was I deeply apologize.” He spoke softly sending an arrow to your heart. You nearly fell apart.

“I was just joking but now I feel bad.” You mumbled as he looked at you. You ended up buying whatever dessert he wanted because it was only fair for the grief you caused him.

I gotta get through these drafts immediately!

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moratorya · 12 days ago

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· ➳ [𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐌𝐏: 𝐓𝐈𝐑𝐄]

jason todd doesn’t tire when he’s around you. at first he found it odd, a bit off-putting, because no matter how exhausted he would’ve been after patrol, when he’d inevitably find himself outside of your window, it’s like the word fatigue doesn’t even exist.

but now it’s habit, and it draws him to your apartment, even when patrol ends on the other side of the city. jason always finds his way back, like some sort of daft pigeon which has one location memorised, and one location only.

he knocks, unable to stop the smile that spreads his face when your sleepy eyes blink up at him. “jay,” you say flatly, but still open the window, “this is my bedroom.”

“yeah?” jason slips through the small crevice despite his stature. “didn’t notice.”

“i thought we agreed that you’d only come in through the living room,” you complain, dragging your feet as you turn away, in an attempt to pretend to be annoyed. you leave jason and your open bedroom door window wide open, and he rolls his eyes are your unspoken order.

still, he reaches out and shuts your window firmly, giving a jig or two to make sure that it’s firmly closed and locked. “no,” he mentions, lightly, turning back around, “you just said i can’t come in through the kitchen in case i step in your soup again. did i mention that the soup tasted great? i think a little less tar and mud would’ve helped, though.”

“it was your tar and mud from the bottom of your shoes!” you exclaim, throwing your hands up. you huff, grabbing a puffer jacket to keep warm, crossing your arms with force. is your gas still not working? jason should take a look sometime. “i thought we had an agreement—living room only. you get dirt everywhere otherwise!”

jason leans against the wall, crossing his arms. “you have far too many windows,” he points out, “it’s a safety hazard. i’ve gotta do my checks to make sure that they’ll hold up.”

you shoot him a glare, huffing as you tug your puffer around your body tighter. it’s hilariously endearing. “you don’t even break in or anything because i let you in every time,” you mutter, shaking your head as you stalk out of your room with great indignation, “god, why do i let you in every time?”

jason tugs off his helmet and domino, trailing after you like a puppy. “because you love me,” he teases, dropping the helmet and kicking it underneath your bed. last time he had left it on a chair beside the bed, and you had woken up screaming because apparently it had been ‘staring right at you’. jason, as funny as he found it, does not want to repeat that again—your shrill screech had him bypassing assess the situation to straight fucking panic. then, of course, he had laughed his head off when he realised the situation was just you, in your terror, kicking his helmet off the chair and out of the closest window.

“i fucking hate you,” you grumble, stopping in your kitchen area. you yank open the fridge, survey the inside with great scrutiny, before pulling out a bowl wrapped in plastic.

you shoot him a stern glare. “chicken soup okay?”

“anything you make is delicious,” jason replies honestly, settling at a stool around your kitchen counter.

you make a sound of satisfaction, peeling back the plastic cover and giving the bowl a little shake. jason can’t see from behind you, so he settles for admiring your back and silhouette as you mutter to yourself, reaching for a spoon to double check everything inside is okay.

jason used to eat food that was far past the best before date, and if he was desperate, things that were obviously expired. you, who makes a new batch of soup every odd day so he’d have something warm to come back to after patrol, could make literally anything and jason would thank you like you had saved his life.

“microwave?” jason prompts, when you okay the soup, setting the spoon aside.

“sit,” you command, pointing a finger at him. “do not move.”

jason holds his hands up in mock surrender, smiling to himself as you raise yourself onto your tip toes to reach the microwave. it sits in a cupboard above your fridge, and you carefully manouevre yourself so none of the soup splashes out by accident. after a few firm beeps, the microwave whirs into motion, and you plop down on the seat opposite jason as the two of you wait.

you blink at his unmasked face. then, with a softness that makes jason’s heart want to explode every time, you smile and say, “hi, jay.”

“hi,” he replies, dumbly. he always loses his thoughts when you look at him like that.

“how was patrol?”

he shrugs. “the usual.”

“long?” you ask, dryly, raising an eyebrow. he shrugs again. if someone like dick had asked on comms not half an hour ago, jason would have so many complaints, mostly about how awful his company was. but, now, jason physically cannot find anything that even remotely annoys him. all he can think about is how nice you look under this kitchen light, how much he just wants to hold you, and how fucking delicious that soup smells.

as if on cue, the microwave beeps. before you can ever turn around, jason’s up on his feet and reaching for the soup, relishing in the warmth of the bowl as carefully takes it out.

“i thought i told you to stay seated,” you argue, but there’s no heat behind your tone. jason grins, boyish in a way that he knows makes you lose any annoyance, and he’s rewarded when you sigh and jerk your head to your living room. “not too tired for a movie?”

jason is never tired around you. “pride and prejudice?”

“i’ll do you one better,” you muse, standing up to follow him onto the couch, “notting hill.”

jason makes an affronted sound as he sinks into your couch, eyes narrowed.

“nah,” jason remembers to put down the soup before yanking at your foot, making you shriek as you tumble into him, “how’s that better? there’s no conflict! it’s just vanilla, celebrity and not-fan shit, babe, please.”

you kick him in retaliation, landing right in between his ribs, and jason wheezes. “uncultured bastard,” you grumble, “there’s yearning! fuck knows what happened to all the development and build up in pride and prejudice—if i didn’t know they were getting together at the end, i never would have thought they liked each other! especially mr. darcy!”

“oh, you little—”

jason launches himself at you, crushing you underneath his weight. you laugh, unable to stop yourself, and jason finds himself simply admiring your wide smile as you hook your arms around his neck.

“you shower at the cave?” you ask, smile still dazzling.

jason hums in affirmation, dropping down so his face nests perfectly in the junction between your neck and shoulder. “used dick’s shampoo and everything.”

“no wonder you smell better than usual,” you observe, giggling when jason grabs at your hip as a warning.

“now i know we said that tickling is off limits, but if you say something like my brother smells better than i do on a daily basis, then all house rules are out the window,” jason threatens. he squeezes your hip for emphasis.

you smile cheekily, and before he can make good on his promise, you lift up and press a kiss to the corner of his lips.

jason deflates, going limp, further crushing you under his weight. this time it’s you who wheezes as jason grumbles, “that’s playing dirty.”

“get off of me you big fucking oaf,” you rasp, smacking at his back, “let me put on the movie!”

jason begrudging rolls off, arm slipping around your waist to keep you securely in his hold. as you rummage around for the remote, jason pulls the two of you upright, and leans to the side to grab his soup.

you make a gentle ‘aha!’ when you find the remote, making jason smile, and you jam your finger at the open button. jason cups the bowl from the bottom, and lifts it to his lips as he blows gently, feeling the steam heat up the front of his face.

“not too hot?” you ask, settling into his embrace.

jason takes a sip. it’s perfect. “no,” he confirms, and hugs you a little tighter.

on the tv screen, a gentle sunrise illuminates the otherwise dim room, and jason can’t help but smile into the back of your neck. “itchy,” you complain, trying to pull away, but jason only holds you tighter, making sure you can’t.

“i’m holding soup,” he reminds, grinning, before you can start wriggling.

you shoot him a glare out of the corner of your eyes. “eugh.”

he laughs into your neck, and a feeling of bliss envelopes him. around you, jason is never tired, because there is nothing to be tired about. there is only ever peace, a gentle calmness, and contentment. jason could live like this forever, coming home to you.

the gentle chimes of pride and prejudice’s opening theme fills the room, and jason settles into the peace quietly. you lean against him, and quietly, the two of you watch the movie.

this was brought on by that one text post i did yapping about pride & prejudice's dawn lol

jason todd taglist tagging: @profoundgreenturtle @ohgodimgoungtodie @freythecrazyfae

general taglist tagging: @c4xcocoa @megumisluciouslashes

please send an ask to be added! comments may not be seen.

#one last word stamp before 500!!!!#love a good domestic jay scene :(#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #dc x reader #dc comics x reader #batboys x reader #batfam x reader #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood x y/n #x reader #red hood #jason todd #( ᵘ ᵕ ᵘ ⁎) 𝐑𝐘𝐀 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 ━━━

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yuutryingtowrite · 7 months ago

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Yandere!Chef x Vampire!Reader

A/N: If you wanna know more about the levels, check this post :)

Warning: Not nsfw, but suggestive. MDNI. Chef calls reader "Madam"

Danger level: ★ ★ ★ ☆ ☆

Submissive level: ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♥︎ ♡

~Your First Dinner with Him~

Yandere!Chef who is really oblivious. He has been staying at your castle for a while now and yet, he still doesn’t know that you are a vampire. You did try to tell him on his first day here that food is not substantial for you, but he had politely interrupted you with a “I insist, Madam. Please go rest, the food will be ready in a moment” and even guided you to the living room, by gently pushing on your lower back with his large, rough hand. You were too flustered by the gesture to continue arguing.

Your second attempt was during dinner. You thought about striking when he would go sit down after putting both plates on the table, but, much to your dismay, after that, he remained standing beside you instead. Confused, you looked up (realllllly up. How tall was this guy??) and found him nervously watching you. You were weak to his puppy look. You took a bite: “Hm! It is really good”. A smile broke on his face, his eyes turning into tiny crescent moons. “I am glad you think so, Madam! Please let me know if you have any special requests. I want to properly take care of you”, he enthusiastically, albeit a bit sheepishly, replied. Ugh, his expressions, his demeanor…way too cute. New hobby acquired: eating human food.

~His Favorite Dinner (?) with You~

Yandere!Chef, who you rarely see with a frown, who usually wears that soft and kind smile of his, looks rather uneasy today, some would say even depressed. The truth is: he can’t stand his body. Seeing it in the mirror this morning completely killed his mood. He was not aware of it before, as the change was gradual; however, it seems like he gained weight while working here as your personal chef. A number of his big, hard-earned muscles from years of underground fighting, like his pecs, his abdomen and his butt glutes, currently have a squish to the touch. They aren’t purely solid anymore. His form strayed from bulky to a bit more beefy.

Why is that a problem? Well, ladies don’t find this attractive. At least, the ones from his village didn’t. He had witnessed it before. Had he stayed there, he would have been the subject of their disapproving and disgusted stares. Even among the regular folks, chubbiness was written off as being lazy and unreliable. You are too kind to think or do something like that, but he doesn't want your politeness, he doesn't want your open-mindedness, he wants your love.

Lost in thoughts of new workout routines, he doesn’t notice his cut finger until blood starts to drip onto the vegetables. Ah…if he had dog ears, they would have flopped on his head. He already ruined his body, he doesn't need to ruin your dinner too.

Turning around, it would appear that the person on his mind is right behind him.

“M-madam! How did you get ther-", which is a very valid question; prior to this, there were no sounds owned by your footsteps nor by the kitchen’s door opening and closing. Yet, instead of answering, you just abruptly…grab his wrist and…put his finger in your mouth? At the contact, the broad-shouldered man makes a little noise. You don’t mind him as you begin to suck the blood out of the injury.

He is very confused, he doesn't understand why you are doing this. The feel of your tongue on his skin, how you both are standing so intimately close to each other; it doesn’t favor his thinking either. It is actually making him lightheaded. Like is this sensation akin to pleasure that keeps building up the more this situation goes on. He lets out another whimper when your hand slides under his shirt to squeeze at the small fat of his stomach.

As this snaps him out of his haze, he begins to weakly plead instead, without real conviction, to let go of his hand; he doesn’t want you to get sick. He could easily overpower you, but he can’t get his body to stop trembling. All he can do is bring a shaky hand to his mouth to muffle the sounds that keep spilling out since the feeling from earlier is now more intense, more delightful.

Before this could escalate, you finally release his finger with a pop. You look up and find your poor chef completely flushed, his eyes unfocused, taking heavy breaths.

Guess you owe him an explanation, huh?

~H̶̝̿i̸̭̓s̴͉̿ ̷͉͑b̴̒͜e̶͊ͅs̴̠͋t̶̮͆ ̵̡̀d̴̟́ĩ̷̦s̷͛ͅh̶͍͛ ̵̣̃ ~

Yandere!Chef who now feeds you proper food.

“From which animal is this blood from? It tastes exquisite! I never had something like this before”, you excitedly ask him.

“Oh, you know Madam, just ventured deeper into the forest than usual”, he answers vaguely.

He doesn’t want to worry you by saying it actually belongs to the rude asshole who pushed you the other day.

Isn’t that sweet?

…

Drink well, darling

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gay-dorito-dust · 3 months ago

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‘You’re hurt.’ Bob points out and you froze, you didn’t mean to be so obvious but the pervious mission with the Thunderbolts had went array in some places, smooth sailing in others, but that didn’t change the fact that you had walked away with a bruise near your ribs.

‘It’s just a bruise Bob I’ll live.’ You told him, not wanting him to worry over something so small and harmless, but unfortunately for you, that’s exactly what bob did as he gingerly rests his hands upon your waist to get a good look at the blossoming bruise and frowns.

‘Why didn’t you tell me that you were hurt?’ He looks at you as though he was about to cry with how worried and frightened he looked for a man of his power, and all you wanted to do was cradle him close and kiss his worries away, to put his mind at ease that you were going to be okay even if the thing he was dreading was a small bruise.

‘It’s not that big of a deal sweetheart,’ you tried telling him as you held his face in your hands, caressing his cheeks in hopes that his eyes would loose that watery look within them for it was only breaking your heart, like having to leave behind a puppy for work and they start pulling out the waterworks in hopes their owners won’t go. ‘It’s a bruise and I didn’t want you to worry over something so harmless.’ You finished as you watched Bob furrow his brows as though deeply in thought.

‘But I still don’t like the thought of you being hurt.’ Bob replies, his fingers barely the bruise but the action made your breath hitch in your throat regardless, soft and gentle as though he was scared of applying more pressure and causing you more harm then he believed you were under. ‘But the thought of you hiding your hurt from me hurts even more, what if you were seriously injured?’ He asks, the worst case scenario already swarming his head.

‘Then I’d find help.’ You said calmly, this wasn’t the first time Bob had gotten like this when you were hurt from a mission, so you knew that you needed to stay calm in order to get through to him and bring him back to reality. ‘I know you worry but trust me where I say that I’m okay.’ You continued as you saw his eyes flicker to your own, looking deeply into them as though he was trying to determine what you were saying is the truth or not. ‘I’m okay.’ You echoed before kissing his nose. ‘I’m okay.’ You then kiss his forehead for good measure.

Bob visibly relaxed as he pushed his head to your shoulder, letting out a sigh of relief, but his grip on your waist never changed from its protective hold. ‘You’re okay, you’re okay.’ He chants to himself as you moved your hands to rub his back, holding him close to you as he brings himself back to the reality of your arms.

‘I’m okay, we’re okay.’ You told him as you both stayed there, glad to know that you were both going to be okay, even if things right now weren’t because as long as you and Bob were okay that’s all that mattered.

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innerfare · 9 months ago

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You Just Do It Better

Summary: There are some things that are better left to you

Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Sanji, Ace, Sabo, Law, Kid

Genre: Fluff

CW: None // SFW

———

Luffy:

When his hat is in a state of disrepair, as it often is, he now hands it over to you to be fixed. You did it once when he was sound asleep after a fight, and when he woke up, he discovered his most prized possession looked better than it ever had. People are so rarely allowed to touch his hat, but he begs you- puppy dog eyes and all- to fix his hat for him every time it gets damaged. You just do it better.

Zoro:

Why does your sake always taste better? And your beer? And, though he’s loathe to admit it, he’d rather swipe that fruity cocktail you’re drinking than have his own whiskey because whenever you order a drink, it just tastes better. Oh, and when you make it? Forget about drinking it yourself. If you make a drink yourself, be it ice water or hot tea or something with liquor, Zoro will at the very least be stealing a few sips, even if he’s made his own. You just do it better.

Sanji:

Who knew you had such a talent for frosting cupcakes? He takes such pride in cooking for you, never imagined for a moment he would allow you to pick up even a single kitchen utensil. But he had his hands full one day and you took over the cupcakes he’d made upon Luffy’s request, and you did such a beautiful job he didn’t even let the crew eat them. Now, it’s your job to frost any sweets he makes. You just do it better.

Ace:

It’s everything you touch, really. Whether you’re picking out a necklace or seasoning a dish, you just do it better. But most especially, you talk. Whether you’re talking about nothing or speaking on something important, you have a way with words that he simply doesn’t. He always puts his thoughts and feelings through a you filter because however you phrase things is going to be the best way. You just do it better.

Sabo:

You edit his manuscript. He has no shortage of people who could do it for him, people who have real experience doing such things. He could do it himself, too, educated as he is (though he hides it well). But you’re so much better. You know exactly how to read his words and improve on them without changing the underlying point he is trying to make. He even has you read his private journals just for your opinion. You just do it better.

Law:

You put the right words in his mouth for him. Law often stumbles over his words and isn’t the best at communicating his emotions. You have a special talent for reading his emotions and explaining them, so much so that when he has a conflict, he comes to you and you help him piece together the right thing to say so he doesn’t end up snapping and saying something rude (still probably ends up snapping, but it’s not as bad with your help). You just do it better.

Kid:

Applying the soothing gel intended to calm the residual pain in the stub of his arm used to be a private ordeal, the fact that his arm hurt perhaps his most closely guarded secret. But you walked in on him one night and found him in so much pain that you took over despite his protests, and he found the gel worked even better when you massaged it into his arm. Now, he doesn’t even bother trying to do it himself. You just do it better.

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

#one piece #one piece headcanons #one piece fluff #one piece x reader #luffy x reader #zoro x reader #sanji x reader #ace x reader #portgas d ace x reader #sabo x reader #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #captain kid x reader #eustass kid x reader

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halfadiamond · 2 months ago

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You Think It’s Love- Part 4

Masterlist

CW: angst, the men get what they deserve

The men are confused as to if love is here when they finally notice something is off with you. It’s something subtle like moving a block a tiny bit to the left because it looks better that way, nobody would notice unless they looked at it hard enough.

And the men did look hard enough at it and noticed the change.

—

For Johnny, it was when all the men got ready for bed and were starting to get comfortable in their spot when he noticed something was wrong. Rather than let John use him as his personal teddy bear, Johnny sat up and looked around the room as if looking for something. Before they could ask what Johnny was looking for, he got out of bed and opened the bedroom door and peered into the hallway.

The only thing the men could do was stare in confusion as they saw Johnny looking out as if waiting for something to come. It took a few seconds more before he looked back at them a bit confused and asked:

“Why hasn’t the Bonnie come to bed?”

Oh. He was right, you hadn’t come to bed. Now that they think of it, when’s the last time you’ve slept in the bed with them?

The only thing Kyle could do was stretch his arms as he sat up, he pondered about the answer before he found one that satisfied everyone’s curiosity.

“Maybe she fell asleep in the guest bedroom. I think she’s been having a lot of online work meetings, she probably didn’t want to disturb us.”

That answer worked for Johnny as he nodded. He took one last look into the hallway before deciding his next move.

“She should be done right? It’s late, I haven’t cuddled with her in awhile. I’ll go get her.”

Before anyone could say anything, Johnny took quick steps out of the bedroom and into the hallway before going into the guest bedroom.

For Johnny, he realized something was wrong when he saw you sleeping alone in the guest bedroom. But why? You had a bed. With them. Your boyfriends. Why sleep alone?

Oh well. He’d talk about it tomorrow with you, but for now he wanted to cuddle with his Bonnie. He stood over the bed as he shook you gently, he kept shaking you until he saw your eyes open. It was weird to see you look at him with so much confusion, but never mind that. Johnny reached out his hand as he spoke to you.

“Cmon Bonnie. Let’s go to bed, I wanna cuddle with ya, haven’t done it in a long time.”

Johnny who was expecting for you to give him that sweet smile as you took his hand was left perplexed as you shook your head and got comfortable in the bed again.

“No thank you Johnny. I’d rather sleep alone.”

You spoke very softly, perhaps you didn’t want the men to overhear you or maybe you were just too tired to really talk. Johnny didn’t investigate too much into that as he nodded and walked out of the bedroom, looking like a kicked puppy.

Johnny isn’t sure if love is here when he returns back to bedroom, gets into bed with his lovers, but doesn’t feel right sleeping knowing that you’re sleeping alone in another bedroom.

—

For Kyle, he realizes it when doing his weekly grocery store run. It’s common to do these runs often especially when there’s many mouths to feed and a lot of laundry to be done. Kyle enjoys the peace that comes with strolling through the aisles so he’s often the one that volunteers to go.

Kyle looks through each aisle, he likes to see if there’s anything he can stock up on or maybe just see if he can buy it because he wants it. He goes into the beauty aisle because he remembers that Simon is almost out of face wash and if he runs out then he’ll go for Kyle’s much more expensive face wash. Kyle can’t have that so he’ll grab it now before he has to witness Simon lathering on his face wash.

He finds it quick and grabs a bottle… well actually he’ll grab two so that he can be sure that he won’t have any incidents in the future. It’s while he about to leave the aisle that he notices that the employees had put a bunch of sheet masks on sale. While he should’ve just ignored it and headed off to pay, it was like those sheet masks were trying to reach out to him. Like an annoying spam call that keeps calling you hoping that you’ll pick up.

Kyle chose to pick up the call and realized why they’re calling out to him. He hadn’t done a self care day with you in awhile. Now that he thinks about when’s the last time he’s spent time with you? He can’t remember. The last time you tried to spend time with him, he brushed you off in favor of going to a bar with Johnny.

Maybe buying those masks would be nice. He could buy a few extra things, you two could pamper each other, and maybe if you guys were lucky enough you could get one of your boyfriends to join in. Lord knows that those men don’t understand the concept of facial care, it was always you or Kyle getting them to put on the face masks.

With that in mind, Kyle grabbed a few packs of sheet masks and he looked around the store for extra stuff to buy. He’ll grab a few of your favorite snacks, maybe he’d grab a movie (something cheesy, he can’t remember the last time he heard you laugh) and if he remembers right you should be off from work today.

It’ll all be perfect.

Kyle thinks to himself as he heads off to pay.

Kyle is confused as to if love is here when he comes home and sets everything up on the living room table. He has all the masks spread out for you choose, different bowls filled with your favorite, and a movie ready to be played. He hears the front door open and close as he sees you step into the living room. He doesn’t like that expression on your face when you see him, like you weren’t expecting him to be there and looking closely, he notices that you have a gift bag from a museum.

Who’d you go to the museum with? It wasn’t him or the men because they were all out doing their own errands. Did you go by yourself? But why? You could’ve told him and he would’ve went with you. Why didn’t you want to spend time with him?

He’ll figure that out later but now he wants to spend time with you. He gives you a soft smile as he gestures to the table. He sees your eyes follow to the table and you don’t really look that much fazed as you look back at him in confusion. He pats the spot next to him as he speaks up.

“Haven’t had a self care day with you in awhile. I got these sheet masks we can use and I got a movie we can watch apparently it’s about a giant cockroach invading the city.”

Normally you would’ve joined him, you would’ve picked out your mask and decide which snack you want as he plays the movie. Sometimes you guys would even pick out masks for your boyfriends and have (force) them to use it, but that was in the past as you shake your head and grabbed your bag closer to you.

“No thank you Kyle. I have to catch up on work.”

You don’t wait for his response as you hurried off to the guest room, closing the door and shutting him out.

Kyle doesn’t think that love is here when he watches the movie by himself, but he really can’t find himself to laugh at the horrible CGI because he’s stuck wondering why didn’t you want to hang out with him.

—

For Simon, he realizes it when he gets ready to go out for his nightly walks. While he knows that his lovers don’t like it when he leaves for them, he’s grown to enjoy the time spent just quietly reflecting on whatever’s on his mind. He never tells them that but he thinks they already know.

Most of the time, it’s always Kyle who hates when he leaves for them. Kyle always felt that Simon would be a prime target for someone to hurt him which seems a bit weird considering his stature if anything he’s sure that everyone else is scared that he’ll hurt them but fine maybe Kyle knows something he doesn’t.

But as he gets ready to leave, he’s about to grab his keys and his gun (that John makes him take) when he spots your keys also on the counter top. He looks around a bit expecting to see you come out, ready for a walk with him but you don’t come. You know the time he goes for them, and you normally go with him so where were you?

It’s been a while since you went with him, it’d be nice to have some alone time with you. He likes these walks with you because he likes to hear you talk. You talk about anything that’s on your mind, sometimes it’s about how Johnny forgot to change the toilet paper again, how you really love your job (which is surprising because you always complain about it), or your hopes for the future with them.

Sometimes, he’ll join in with his own commentary but sometimes he’ll just give you a nod or lightly brush his thumb on your hand letting you know that he’s listening. It’s nice. It’s peaceful. And now he’d like to have another walk with you.

He has an idea as to where you might be as he goes into the guest bedroom, he gives a quick knock and hears a come in. When he opens the door, he sees a scrapbook that you’re working on. A scrapbook? You never told him about this. You tell him everything because you know he never judges. So why aren’t you talking to him anymore?

This walk will definitely help in reconnecting with you. He’ll ignore how you don’t look ready for walk, you look more prepared for bed, it’s okay he can wait a bit while you get ready. He’s patient.

“Aren’t you coming on the walk?”

He speaks somewhat gruffly. He expects you to look at the time, realize that you lost track of time, laugh and then promise to get ready quickly.

But you don’t do that, you don’t even look interested in going out with him.

“I’m too tired for a walk.”

Was all you said as you went back to your scrapbook.

Simon wanted to talk back, maybe a small part of him wanted to ask if he can join you then, anything to hear you talk to him but he can tell that you rather be alone. And he does leave you alone.

Simon isn’t sure that love is here when he takes his walk because this is something he enjoys doing. But now? He can’t find himself enjoying this as much as he’d much rather have you here.

—

For John, he realizes it when he books a reservation at a nice restaurant for you and him. He books it because he can’t remember the last time, he took you out on a date just you two.

He also books it because his lovers have been complaining that you’re getting distant from them and they’re not sure why. He thinks this date will help him get to the bottom of it. He thinks it’s just work that’s making you distant, in his opinion, he’ll bring up that topic again. Where he tells you to quit your job and stay home, your job clearly stresses you out, so why not quit? They can provide for you until you find a better job or if you don’t want to work anymore then that’s fine too.

Don’t you trust them to take care of you? They all love you dearly. Don’t you trust them to tell them about any issues you have? Anything that’s bothering you, they’ll help you get through it. That’s what lovers do.

John waits by the living room, he counts down the time till you come home from work. He knows that today, you get off early for what reason he isn’t sure. He just knows that you never ask and leave when told.

Right on cue, he hears the door open and shut as he sees you step into the living room. You put your bags on the floor as you spot him. You look like a little mouse, who’s about ready to run. But he won’t let you, at least until he tells you about your date for tonight.

“Got us a reservation at that steakhouse. Tonight at 7:30.”

As he expected, he sees you get ready to object. Fine then. He’ll see what you have to say. He’s fair. He’ll listen to you.

“Can’t you take someone else? Johnny was just complaining that he’s dying for a good steak.”

“No I can’t. Johnny’s always wanting a good steak. I booked it with you in mind.”

It was like a Pokémon battle with every excuse you had not to come, he had something to counter back with. In the end, he won the battle as he got you to agree to go on the date.

When it came time to go, he waited by the door for you and while he was about to yell out a reminder that if you guys didn’t leave now you were going to be late (something he always got used to doing with Kyle, who for some reason always needed to triple check his outfit), you came out from the guest bedroom, and heavens you were stunning. You always knew what to wear, how to do your hair, and how to do your makeup (always the right amount).

He was quick in taking your arm as he took you out to the car, not without calling you the prettiest woman he’s ever seen. He was sure that whatever was the issue, he’ll be able to find it out with this date especially as he saw that small smile you had when he complimented you. Whatever was bothering you, he’ll figure it out and then he’ll discuss with the men what to do. But for now, he wants to enjoy this time with you.

Being at the steakhouse was nice. He can’t remember the last time, he’s taken you out and that gives him even more of a reason to check in on you. He tries to bring up stuff that you liked, old discussions that you two had, and hell he even brought up your work to see how it is going. But you weren’t receptive at all.

You were choosing to give small talk instead of that full length conversations that he was used to having with you. To him, it looked like you didn’t even want to be here, you were messing with the napkin more than you were giving him attention. It felt like a first date where it’s obvious the other person isn’t that into them.

John isn’t sure that love is here when he’s stuck on trying to get his sweet love to talk to him again, like old times.

—

Tonight, you chose to go out with your friends especially after texting them about your troubles, and as expected they quickly turned against the men.

What’s their issue?

How can they treat u so badly and then act surprised that u don’t want to be with them. 😤

That’s it they’re officially the garbage men 🗑️ the trash gets taken out tomorrow, put them out there

It was nice, having friends like them, someone who stood by your corner especially when you felt so alone. But it was also weird to see how differently your boyfriends (can you even call them that?) were treating you now. Johnny was acting more clingy than before (he’s always wanting to cuddle with you), Kyle was always looking for something to do with you, Simon started participating in scrapbooking, and John’s always picking you up from work.

You weren’t quite sure what was going on, but for now you want to enjoy your time with your friends. It could help seeing the relationship from an outside perspective. You checked yourself out in the mirror and smoothed out your outfit, fixing anything that needed to be fixed before grabbing your bag. Apparently they wanted to treat you out to some drinks, help relieve that stress they said.

You didn’t feel like questioning it as you left the guest bedroom as walked towards the door. You heard some movement from the living room as you saw the men looking at you from the couch (they look like a bunch of meerkats). You already knew what was coming.

“Where are you going?”

Kyle questioned as he and the men eyed your outfit. They definitely wanted to know where you were going wearing that outfit.

“To the club.”

You said as you checked your bag one last time, making sure you had everything you needed. You expected them to nod and let you be, but you didn’t expect to see Johnny get up from the couch.

“Can I come with? I’ll go put on a nicer outfit and then we can take off.”

It was funny, just thinking of how you were in their same place, wanting to go with them on their date. But they rejected you and now you were rejecting them.

“You can’t. It’s for me and my friends.”

That’s all you wanted to say and all you told before you left.

Your boyfriends aren’t sure that love is here as they are stuck, sitting on the couch, wondering what went wrong and how they can get their sweet girl back.

Simon: 🧍‍♂️, Kyle: my baby 🥺

Deleted Scene: Graves who used to go out on the walks too, stops because Simon used to chase him. (Simon was doing the trend of making sure they get home safe)

I never watched/or played Pokemon that much, I was a Digimon girl

The guys sad on the couch: ☹️, you having the time of your life at the club: 💃

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justwonder113 · 3 months ago

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🎧 Shutting you up mid argument with a kiss - Maknae line edition 🎧

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Hyung Line

📖 Summary: Basically what the title says 🤭

⚠️ Warnings: Cursing as always; Arguments; kissing; fluff; angst but nothing too extreme; If I missed anything please tell me; NOT PROOFREAD

🖋️ Author’s Note: Saw a gif of a man shutting a girl up with a kiss and got inspired so hopefully you'll like it. Will do a reverse version too so stay tuned~

📝 Word Count: 3k

📜 Masterlist: | ☕ Ko-fi:

💬Reblogs and comments are truly appreciated—they help more STAYs find my work, and your feedback means a lot to me. ( •̀ ω •́ )✧

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Han

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To say that you were pissed off would be severe misunderstanding. Your whole day was just a pure nightmare. Everything that could have gone wrong did go wrong and now, to put it simply, you were basically a walking ticking bomb. The slightest disturbance would be enough to tip you over the edge and make you snap.

Honestly all you really wanted was to go home and just sleep. Preferably with Jisung cuddling you, but you weren’t picky.

As long as you got some sleep.

Your apartment was dimly lit when you entered so that’s why you didn’t notice Jisung’s bag he most likely he just threw on the ground when he got back home. Thank God you managed to catch yourself mid fall, or else would have broken at least a nose. And you would have to kill Jisung.

Hoesly you wanted to yell at him. You had warned him at least million times to not leave his junk out in the middle of room like that. But at the same time, you were so tired you decided against it.

“Hey baby.” You heard Jisung’s raspy voice before you felt his arms around you, his scent immediately surrounding you, almost fully melting away the day’s stress.

The keyword being almost.

Because the minute you were done with your stuff you immediately went to your bedroom.

And the sight made your blood boil.

“Han Jisung get your ass over here!”

You head the screech of his computer chair. A heavy thud. And then quick footsteps of Han rushing full speed towards the room.

“What is it are you okay?” He was so out of breath and visibly panicking and normally you would have found it endearing but not today. Not now.

You pointed at the bed which was covered with unfolded laundry. You asked Han million times to take care of it. You were tired of watching it migrate from bed to the chair in your room. But here you were. You weren't’ perfect example of cleanliness and you knew Han was a messy person, but it was like he never cleaned after himself. You knew he had hectic schedules, but you weren’t free as a bird either. Also, it was tiring for you to be one always cleaning around the house. So, him leaving the laundry untouched yet again really tipped you over.

“I’m sorry baby, I completely forgot about it....” Han started frantically explaining himself, clearly nervous and guilty but you didn’t let him finish.

“No, I asked you so many times to take care of it! It’s your laundry too! You always promise to help with chores, but I am always stuck doing them all alone!” You took a deep breath, noticing yourself how you were slowly picking up a pace as you argued. You hated whenever you lashed out like this, especially at Han, but damn it you were tired!

“I am not your personal made Jisung! I don’t understand why you treat me as such! Or do you think magical faeries keep the house clean or some bullshit like that. All I wanted was to go to sleep and finally relax but now I have to stress about how the house is a literal mess. It just simply shows how little you respect me!”

“Baby...” He started again but you were not done. You noticed that he was starting to get anxious, that he was watching you with sad puppy eyes while fidgeting with the hems of his hoodie, lifting his weight from one leg to the other. You felt bad but you had to speak up.

“Don’t baby me Jisung. I am tired too. How many times are you going to conveniently forget to do something and watch me do it for you?”

“I’m sorry baby. I really am.” You heard Jisung mutter out.

“You can’t just get away with this by saying sorry. You always do this! Apologize and then do the same shit a...” You couldn’t even finish your sentence.

Because he was kissing you.

His hands cupping your jaw, so gently, so desperately.

Like you were most precious and fragile porcelain doll.

You have kissed millions of times. You got through various of different things together. But never like this had he kissed you.

You felt your anger slowly wash away as you slowly sank into the kiss.

“What’s with the kiss?” You finally asked, breathless, once he leaned back, your heart beating like crazy. Your whole body on fire.

Jisung smiled, his hair disheveled from your hands, his lips red and swollen from kissing you. His face clearly flushed, though you doubted you looked any better. but he still looked awkward. He leaned in and gave you another short peck. “I promise I will be better.” You both heard and felt him mutter this against your lips. His voice low, sincere. “I will help around more.” Another kiss and you felt like floating. “I’m really sorry I made you feel like I didn’t appreciate you.”

“You better make up for it then.”

“Right this second your highness.” Smiling just like his usual sunshine self he leaned in and gave you another loving peck before heading to start cleaning up, starting with the laundry on your bed.

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Felix

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Some people say family is everything. And honestly? They’re right. They’re the people who know you best, who support you through life’s toughest moments, who stand by you no matter what.

They’re also the people most likely to drive you absolutely insane. And make you want to pluck out your hair strand by strand.

Like, it’s one thing when a stranger is being mildly irritating—someone cutting in line, talking too loudly on the phone, or walking too slowly when you’re in a hurry. That’s annoying, sure, but you can shake it off. It’s temporary.

But family? Oh no. They know exactly where your buttons are, and they press them with the precision of a NASA engineer launching a spacecraft. And because you love them—because you can’t just walk away forever—it somehow makes their antics ten times more infuriating.

It’s the paradox of unconditional love: the people closest to you are also the ones who can send you into a spiral over something as simple as the way they chew their food.

Let’s just say tonight’s dinner was a total battlefield.

And you didn’t know if you were winning losing.

Do you know how some people have this relative everyone or almost everyone keeps comparing you to since you’re born? It’s a complete nightmare if both of you are the same age. It’s always lie do you know they did this they did that, they have the most perfectest grades, they graduated early, they are now studying medicine, law or something really respectworthy like that. Oh they work now, oh NASA just recruited them, oh they saved a president.

And worst of all they are getting married so when are you.

It is especially hard when your family knows you’re dating. And your boyfriend of three years (oh no right) is right next you and your family absolutely loves him! So you can imagine how the boot on your neck pressuring you to get married got heavy.

For the whole night you had to hear basically everyone’s opinion on how you should live your own damn life. They didn’t even let you say anything! And when you finally managed to speak up and say something they ignored you and went over you like you were some dumb kid.

And then the perfection incarnate decided to have a chat with you and Felix- meaning you had to hear a whole ass speech how perfect their life was. And god that condescending tone! Honestly you still loved your family members, but damn some of them managed to piss you off so much! Like you wouldn’t even say hi to them if you weren’t related.

Thankfully you were headed back to your house now and since you couldn’t really say anything at dinner now you were compensating by speaking what was on your mind. Well arguing and ranting was a better word to describe your action but a person’s gotta vent.

“Seriously the audacity some people have. If I have to hear how someone’s life is so perfect and amazing and how you should just set it as your life goal to live by their example I will lose my mind! And what’s up with this relentless marriage talk and you should have children bullshit?! I will get married and start a family whenever I see fit!”

You were so passionate about your whole damn rant you didn’t even realize that you got home. You really didn’t stop talking for a whole ride. Talk about yapping.

“And what was up with them cornering you about asking for my hand? It’s so frustrating! It's our relationship, it’s not something to be discussed so publicly like it’s everyone’s business. We will go in our pace. I mean as long as I’m happy why should it matter, right Felix?” You had barely finished your sentence when he decided to wrap his hands around you and lean in to seal your lips ina loving gently kiss.

Your breath hitched, it was like your whole mind crashed like an old computer for a second. Your whole body was on a fire in a second, your heart beating like crazy.

Did he even realize what kind of effect he had on you?

“You’re cute when you’re worked up like this.” Felix whispered against your ear when he leaned back for some air. The hot breath sending shiver down your spine.

“You’re such a tease.” You grumbled, but you didn’t really mind being shut up like this.

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Seungmin

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It started with something stupid like the correct way to load a dishwasher. Silly right? But now you had a whole silent war going on with him because both of you were prideful assholes.

You knew it was dumb, but it just pissed you off how Seungmin always thought that he was always so right. Usually you loved how fact driven and logically thinking he was, you loved his confidence, but whenever pride also got in the way and he got all smug you just wanted to smack him. It made him more cold and smug like he was better than everyone else. And sometimes you felt like you were part of “everyone”.

You hated when you argued, so you decided to do the next best thing.

The silent treatment.

But how long would that last? Especially when Seungmin was determined to make you talk. But eventually his resolve started to crack.

“For how much longer do you plan to act like this?” You heard him ask, sounding all annoyed.

You decided to ignore him and resume what you were doing, which ironically was the thing that made you argue in the first place. You were putting dishes in the dishwasher.

And you obviously did it your way, which made Seungmin tsk.

“It won’t get washed that way, it’s pointless to have a dishwasher if you’re going to place dishes like that. I told you that baby.”

And just like that, with one comment from him, you snapped.

“Can you shut it?” Your voice was harsh. You had never spoken to him like this.

Seungmin scoffed. “So now you wanna talk?”

You placed the dish down. “Yes because I'm sick of it! You always have to be right and it’s so infuriating you know?” You took a deep breath, here it went. “It’s like you think you're some genius above the rest of us—so smug, so condescending—"

You took a deep breath. “Honesly it seemed like you only care about being right all of the time. Honestly sometimes you make me feel like you don’t even care about me!”

Seungmin scoffed- "Smug? That’s harsh. I prefer ‘confident.” He tilted his head, a smug smile appearing on his face. He continued. “And let’s be honest, would I argue this much if I didn't care about you?"

"Oh, so now you care? That’s rich—" You started exasperated, your voice rising by the second against your judgement.

Seungmin stepped closer, his face unreadable. “Obviously I do. That’s why we argue over stupid shit like this! If I didn’t care about you I wouldn’t be here arguing with you about how to place dishes in the dishwasher! I wouldn’t care how you do it. You also wouldn’t be yelling at me if you didn’t care either." You didn’t miss how his voice dropped, in the end, his voice sounded so sincere. But...

You blinked.

Not going to lie you didn’t know what to say. He managed to catch you off guard. But you were not going to back down. "I—No. Don’t flip this on me, this isn’t about me, this is about—"

And then, without warning, his lips were on yours. At first you were confused, then came anger, because he was just shutting you up, avoiding the conversation, but then you realized. The way he held you oh so gently, despite his hands slightly trembling... And for the first time in your short relationship you saw right through him. It's like you saw him for the first time. Instead of shutting you up he was almost like apologizing. It was knowing. Deliberate. The kind of kiss that said, I hear you. That said, I don’t just think I’m right—It‘s just my way of taking care of you. I just want the best for you.

The frustration dissolves into something else entirely, because really, who gave him the right to kiss this perfectly? His hand came up—just barely brushing against your jaw, lingering like he was waiting for you to pull away, except you didn’t.

And by the time he leaned back his face still looked unreadable but now you noticed how tenderly his eyes were gazing at you.

"I love you." He said it like it was the most simple thing to say and you caved.

A genuine smile found it’s way on your face.

“I love you.”

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It all started when your boyfriend decided he wanted attention. Which normally isn’t a a bad thing but it can be disruptive when you’re working on a major project, when you have a tight deadline and when you really really REALLY have to focus.

For the whole evening he didn’t really let you work in peace. He kept whining how you were giving him no attention and how it meant that you didn’t love him anymore. You had to talk to hyunjin later because he was corrupting your boyfriend.

In the end you couldn’t really focus and you kept getting distracted over and over again. And in result today you were swarmed with complains from your boss. And let’s just sat you were pretty much pissed now. But you didn’t feel like arguing with him so you decided to let go. But you still wanted to vent about how much of an asshole your boss was.

Jeongin was in a playfull mood today. And normally you loved his goofy side but right noe everything was irking you. You hinted at him several times that you wanted him to focus and listen to you without all the games and jokes but your every hint went over his head.

“What a bitch!” He gasped dramatically and clutched his imaginary pearls.

Now that you thougth about it you did overeact.

You snapped.

"Can you be serious for like...just five minutes, please?" Your voice was sharp. And you hated how he flinched for a second, not expecting you to snap out of you but you had to get everything out of your system

IN quickly regained his composure and grinned. "Five minutes? That’s ambitious."

"Jeongin." - You deadpanned. You hoped that you using his name would make him realize that you were being serious.

He blinked innocently still unaware. "What? I am serious. Mostly."

And that’s was the breaking point.

The frustration simmered over, and you started to talk.

"You never take anything seriously! It’s always jokes, always teasing—how am I supposed to have an actual conversation with you when you act like a literal child?"

Finally looking like he took this seriously now he raised an eyebrow. "A child? That’s dramatic."

You couldn’t help but throw your hands up. "It’s not dramatic Jeongin. it’s the truth! You joke around so much, I don’t even know if you listen half the time—"

The teasing glint in his eyes didn’t disappear completely, but something more focused, more intent sparked beneath it. He stepped closer, the usual playfulness slowly turning into something unreadable.

He started to talk, his voice, sincere. Almost like a whisper. "I listen.”- He started- “I listen way more than you think."

You decided to challenge him. "Oh, really? Then what exactly did I say just now—"

You thought something shifter in a second and then you really felt it.

One second he looked at you with passion, with something so raw, the next second his hand curled at the back of your neck and he kissed you like there was no tomorrow. It was raw and passionate. Your whole body was instantly on fire. You couldn’t help but cling onto him as he deepened the kiss. It was anything but childish—loving, deep, and entirely too knowing. Like he’s been waiting for this moment. To prove to you that he was very much a adult man.

By the time he pulled away, his smirk was infuriatingly self-satisfied.

Even more, the little tease started retelling you in every detail just what you had told him.

"Still think I don’t listen?" Oh you would smack him one of these days.

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✧･ﾟ: Thank you for reading! :･ﾟ✧

If you enjoyed this story, reblogs and comments are truly appreciated—they help more STAYs find my work, and your feedback means a lot to me. 💬🖤

📜 @annie-boleyn @velvetmoonlght @notastraykid @pixie-felix

If you’d like to be added, feel free to send me an ask or reply to this post 🤍

☕ Ko-fi — support my writing

Any support is deeply appreciated and helps me keep writing more stories like this💌

867 notes · View notes

godmadeaterribleerror · 3 months ago

Text

All I've Wanted Was You

Main Masterlist - Bucky Masterlist

Read on A03!

Tags: Bucky Barnes/Female Reader, smut (fingering, oral f!receiving, p in v sex), angst, light fluff, humor, no use of y/n, friends with benefits, love confessions

Summary: You have an arrangement with Bucky. You sleep together, and nothing more. Every time is supposed to be the last time. You love him too much keep this up and pretend it's not killing you.

But it might be killing him too.

Author's Note: Request from @wintersoldierchronicles! I had SO much fun with it, and it got (as expected) emotional. I am what I am. Enjoy!

Word Count: 5.7k

He’s giving you the look again. The one that he’s promised not to give you anymore, because it makes you both break promises, and shatters your heart into a million little, glowing pieces every time.

And Bucky always picks up the pieces, after. He doesn’t know what he’s doing—or that he’s the one who broke you in the first place—but he’s good at cleaning up after himself. He makes his bed every morning. His guns and knives are always polished and well-cared for, and his plates are cleaned with his hands before he puts them in the dishwasher, because that’s how his ma raised him. He folds all his laundry, never has dust on his floor, and never wears boxer two days in a row. All his trash finds it’s way into the can, and then the bag gets taken out over his shoulder because no matter how many times Tony tells him he has robots and people to do that instead, Bucky insists on doing it himself.

It’s one of the reasons you love him.

And that’s exactly why he can’t give you that look. He promised he’d stop it. You’d promised you’d stop indulging it.

But if Bucky’s good at cleaning up, you’re good at making messes. There’s always a little wrapper empty can on your desk—Bucky always throws it out for you—and you tend to wait until you can smell it to change your sheets. You’ve been wearing the same bra for two weeks, and you have one pair of heeled boots where the sole is coming apart, but they still work, so you’re still using them. You had to throw out your last laptop, because five coffee spills were apparently too much for it to handle. People don’t hand you weapons anymore, after Nat gave you a dart gun for safety and you ended up shooting yourself in the thigh. Tony has an extra robot for your apartment.

But Bucky cleans it anyway, whenever he gives you the look, and finds his way back into your bed.

“Don’t know how it’s this bad every time,” he’d muttered a few weeks back, folding your towels with a small frown.

He didn’t need to do that. You wish he wouldn’t. It’s domestic, and it makes this—you and Bucky, though there isn’t really a you and Bucky—feel far too real.

You’d shrugged, watching him move around from the bed. “I spend every day cleaning up your messes, Barnes. That’s where all the energy for this,” You’d mad a sweeping gesture around the room. “Goes.”

“Hey.” Bucky had given you a mockingly stern look and pointed finger. “I haven’t done anything, for like a month.”

“Steve hasn’t done anything in three years.”

“Yeah, but the last thing he did was become a war criminal, doll. That had you on overtime.”

“And who did he become a war criminal for?”

Bucky had rolled his eyes. “Shut up. And the last thing I did wasn’t even that bad.”

“You punched the governor.”

“He called you a whore.” Bucky had glared down at your trash. “I woulda done worse, if I didn’t know it would come back to bite your ass.”

You’d sighed. “Bucky-“

“And I never mean to make mess for you.” He’d muttered, giving you an almost puppy-like look, and you’d wanted to vault off the bed so you could wrap yourself around him and never let go. “Just happens. If I was in charge, we’d all be on perfect fuckin’ behavior, all the time.”

“Well, thank you.” You’d given him a soft, gentle smile, and he’d relaxed slightly. “And I’m not mad about it, Bucky. It’s my job. And I’m good at it.”

“You are.” He’d said under his breath, his tongue flicking out between his lips, and his words had sounded like they were mostly for himself. “Use a lot of pretty words, when you do it. Could make a man jump off a cliff just by asking him to believe the wind would catch him.”

You’d blinked at him, having no fucking idea what that meant, but Bucky just continued, his voice raising back up.

“But I make it harder-“

“No, you don’t. It’s not your fault people are dumb and don’t understand how brainwashing works.” You’d given him a pointed look. “And nothing you do could be worse than the Nat Burrito-Stripper-Arson incident. And she never cleans up my room for me.”

Bucky’s lip had twitched. You’d counted it as a victory. “I’m gonna do your laundry too.”

“What a gentleman.”

“Only for you, doll.” He’d shrugged, and gone back to his self-inflicted mission.

That was one of the ways he picks up the pieces. Even if he doesn’t love you, Bucky really does care about you. So much. It’s one of the reasons this can’t happen. You don’t know what you’ll do if you lose him forever.

But the look is getting more pleading. Shining blue eyes on yours, raised brows that have a question and a promise, something dangerously close to hope all over his handsome features.

You don’t know how to say no to him. You’ve been trying to get better at it, but you also love him, and want him always. So you’re not quite there yet.

When you smile at him, the recognition flashes over Bucky as his jaw clenches, he blinks once—which, for Bucky, is basically jumping with joy—and turns back to his conversation with Steve and Sam.

You both have to get through the rest of the night. One of Tony’s dumb little cocktail parties that’s mandatory, for a united front, and neither of you will be able to escape. You’d tried once, and that’s the only time you’d almost gotten caught. Steve had gone looking for Bucky because it was Steve, and Tony had gone looking for you because apparently the head of PR needed to be easily accessible.

You and Bucky had made promises that time, too.

“That was…” He’d looked at you over the kitchen counter that morning, his words slow and measured. “Close. Last night.”

You’d hummed, staring down at the coffee in your mug. It had long gone cold. You’d been clinging to it and pretending to drink it for an hour, because it gave you a good excuse to wait for Bucky. But it was bitter. And a little shitty, because Tony had been fucking with the machine again.

“We shouldn’t do that again.” Bucky had muttered, and you’d only nodded. “I don’t want to get caught, and then have Steve and Stark down our necks-“

“I know.” You’d whispered, forcing your gaze onto his. And that was a different look, in his eyes. Further away. Untouchable.

Reminding you that, at the end of the day, Bucky’s not yours to touch or have or wait for. Just like you don’t have a good enough reason to be his.

“That was the last time.” You’d said it like it didn’t rip you in half, and Bucky had nodded.

“Alright. Good.” He hadn’t walked away. You’d wish he would.

You could’ve fallen apart again in peace, if he had.

“Are we still good for the whole aquarium thing tomorrow?” He’d asked, and you’d shrugged.

“It’s a team event. I organized it. You have to be there.”

“Yeah, but, uh-“ Bucky had cleared his throat, his tongue flicking out between his lips, his gaze dropping to the kitchen counter. “I was kind of plannin’ on just following you around.”

God. He kept saying things like that. All the fucking time, and it was a little cruel, but you know he didn’t mean it be. He had—has—no idea that you dream about him and feel colder when he’s not there and look for him in every room, even when you know he’s not going to be there. Just in case, you always look.

He’d muttered your name, and you’d just given him a small smile.

“As long as we look at the jellyfish.”

Bucky had nodded slowly. “Jellyfish. Got it.” Then he’d smiled. A wide, toothy, real smile that so few people got to see. You don’t know how you earned Bucky’s smile-list.

You know you’re never going to risk your spot on it. So you’d smiled back, and said nothing else because the words might transform into I love you.

After he’d left the kitchen, you’d dumped the coffee down the sink, and sworn to yourself that that, the close call, was really the last time.

It’s been six more last times since then. There had been the last time at the aquarium, and the last time after a meeting, three last times on random days where nothing had happened, but you’d caved anyway, and the last time when he’d shown up at your door after a mission, and you’d taken him in without a question.

And now it’s seven last times.

But this one, this one for certain, will be the real last time. To save yourself, this has to be the real last time.

So you might as well make it count.

You drift through the rest of the party, smiling at the people Tony tells you to smile at, shaking hands and making soft-edged jokes about your job, keeping Bucky in your periphery because you can’t fucking help yourself. You tell yourself it’s to see when he gives the signal, but in reality, it’s because you need to see him. Need to torture yourself every time a pretty woman glides over to his side and touches his arm—never the metal one, they never touch the metal arm and it makes you hate them—because maybe he’ll change his mind and want her instead.

It would be a mercy, in a way. Take away the torment of knowing you’re going to have him, then need to leave before morning.

You always leave before morning. The only time you’re allowed to linger is when you’ve fucked in the daylight, and you start talking like nothing’s happened at all. It breaks you a little more every time.

But you still go. You love him, and you don’t have the strength of all the gods and heroes around you, so you always go.

The night starts to die down. Couples drift off with their hands tangled together, or they drop onto the couch and give each other little smiles—the kind that tells you that, to them, they’re the only two people into the world—and you stand in the corner, alone.

Bucky gives you the signal, as he moves to the door. Two hands casually behind his back one gloved palm splayed open.

Five minutes, before you can follow him.

They’re the longest five minutes of your life. You chew on the ice at the bottom of your glass until your fingers are sort of numb, but you don’t really care.

Bucky will warm them up.

It’s hard not to run to his room, when you know he’s waiting. For you.

Bucky’s waiting for you.

You’ve barely even knocked on the door when it swings open, and Bucky pulls you inside.

There’s no foreplay. There’s never foreplay, because that would imply something intimate and sacred.

But this is sacred. Only to you, but all the same. Every single second Bucky offers you is holy. To him it’s just hunger. A god starved, asking you to leave him an offering while you’re still in his favor.

That’s what this is supposed to be. You’re supposed to kiss with teeth for a minute, then you’ll fall to your knees to please him. He’ll take a fist full of your hair and guide you up and down his cock, fucking your mouth until you’re choking on him and moaning, before he pulls almost all the way out, and cums.

He never settles for only cumming in your mouth or on your tits. He has a habit of angling himself perfectly so that you swallow half of it, and the rest spreads everywhere. Then he’s supposed to drag up into another violent kiss, and fuck you however he wants.

But that’s not what’s happening.

This kiss is longer. Deeper. Bucky’s mouth almost fully overtakes yours, his tongue pressing on you lower lip until you open for him, and then he’s running it over your teeth and down your throat, like he’s trying to plant himself into you. His hands are handling you softly. Holding you at the curve of your back and pressing your body right into his, until all you can sense is Bucky. All you can hear are his slow grunts rolling through you—born from only kissing you—and all you can taste is the whiskey on his breath, that he probably only drank because Nat handed it to him, and he’s scared of her. And you can smell his cologne, and when your eyes flutter open for half a second you can watch his nose bump yours, and feel-

You can feel Bucky everywhere. The hand that’s not holding you is starting to trail over your thighs, closer to where you’re aching for him, and-

This isn’t right. You’re supposed to get on your knees, and then earn him fingering you back. And you try to pull away and sink down, but Bucky just tugs you right back up, and slams his lips back over yours.

“Bucky,” you gasp, pushing a little on his chest because this isn’t supposed to be about you. “Wait-“

He stops immediately, his furrowing in concern. “Are you o-“

“I’m okay.” You mumble, playing with the fabric of his shirt. “You didn’t do anything, Buck, I just- I’m-“ Supposed to isn’t right. That makes it sound like he makes you, and he doesn’t. “What about you?”

Bucky frowns, his hand still resting on your thigh. “What about me?”

“You’re- You know.” You flush, keeping your gaze firmly fixed on your hands as your voice drops to a whisper. “Blowjob.”

He relaxes against you immediately, and you don’t get it. You’ve done something wrong. You’re supposed to be serving him.

And you definitely don’t get his low chuckle, or why his expression is so soft when he tugs your hair back, forcing your gaze onto his.

“We can skip the blowjob tonight, babygirl.”

That’s not fair. He can’t babygirl you right now. “But-“

“Look, I-“ He sighs, shaking his head at something you don’t understand. “I know you wanna, and I don’t not want it, you’re- Jesus, you’re so fucking good at that, but tonight, lemme take care of you. Please.”

That’s not what this is about. And he said tonight like there will be more nights, and there will be, but you’re not supposed to acknowledge that.

But he said please.

And he pulled out the babygirl.

You nod, the movement smaller than you want it to be, and Bucky grins.

“Good. Alright- Yeah.” He presses another perfect, too-soft kiss to your lips. “Tell me what you want.”

Whatever he wants. As long as Bucky’s offering it, you want it.

You don’t think he’ll care for that answer.

“I- I dunno-“

“Yeah, you do.” He’s kissing a line down your throat as he speaks. That’s not fair either, because it makes your head fuzzy, and you forget how to lie. “C’mon, doll. Tell me what you want.”

“You.”

Your answer slips out without thought, and you’re lucky. Bucky doesn’t read into it. He just groans, and you feel his bulge twitch slightly against you.

His hand slides up to cup your pussy, right over your underwear, and you moan lewdly into his ear.

“So fucking wet already.” He mutters against your neck, and you nod a little stupidly in agreement. “C’mon. Be creative. Tell me what you want me to do to you.”

He slaps your cunt once, and your nails dig into his shoulders as you try to stay upright. “Bucky-“

“You can do it, babygirl. Anythin’ you want, just tell me and I’ll get it for you.” Bucky starts to rub his palm back and forth, and you might fly out of your skin. “Use all those pretty words you’ve got, tell me.”

That’s his Sargent voice.

You don’t know how to disobey his Sargent voice.

“I want you to touch me.” You whisper, and Bucky’s eyes shoot back up to yours. “With the metal arm. Until I can’t fucking stand. Then toss me around. And catch me. And taste me, fuck-“ You’re turning yourself on, and Bucky’s blown-out, lustful gaze isn’t helping. “I want you to taste me, Bucky, you- you do this fucking thing with your tongue all the time and I love it and I want it on me and shit-“

Bucky mutters your name in a low warning, but you’re on a roll, and you don’t know how to stop.

“I was to cum on your face, because sometimes it- Fuck, it gets caught in your beard and that’s so hot, and then I was you to fuck me stupid and hard and rough, and keep touching me, don’t stop touching me, Bucky, please. I want to feel it, baby, I need to feel you tomorrow, please.”

You take a long, heavy breath, and maybe you pushed it too far. He’s just staring at you. What if he’d expected you to say something gentle, and you said that. What if that was a test, and you failed it. And Bucky wouldn’t test you like that, but he’s still staring at you, and it’s a hungry, borderline animalistic stare, but he’s not moving or speaking or-

“Tell me if it’s too much.” He mutters, and it’s almost a growl. “I need you to promise me you’ll tell me if it’s too much.”

You nod, trying not to show your eager desperation on your face. “I promise. Please, Bucky. Please.”

His throat bobs, his metal fingers slowly hooking around your panties. “Hold on.”

Your arms wrap around Bucky’s neck right as his fingers shove into your cunt, and he hadn’t lied.

He’s giving you exactly what you asked for.

Not a single part of your instructions gets neglected or ignore. Bucky seems to have given himself a mission to follow them, and he already knows what you like, and this might kill you.

He starts with the touching. Your underwear is ripped off with your entire dress, and tossed into a far, unimportant corner of the room. A metal finger pushes right into your cunt, pumping in and out, faster and faster until you’re moaning. His palm still rubbing right against your clit, his fingers never slowing, and you can feel it, already you can feel the pleasure in your core-

“Want more, doll?”

You moan at Bucky’s voice, right in your ear, and grind down onto his hand.

His chuckle is dark, and you know he understands. “Yes, ma’am.”

Two fingers. You’re so fucking full and it’s only two fingers, but he’s moving so fast and your knees feel weak, your nails scratching and clawing at Bucky’s neck to remain on your feet-

“Let go,” Bucky mutters your name in your ear, and you’re a little worried he can read your mind. “I’ve got you.”

He’s got you. Bucky’s got you.

Your orgasm hits you with a heady warmth that spreads everywhere, over your nerves and into your mouth as a you moan, right to your fingers as you cling to Bucky, and your legs give out.

He catches you. He’s got you, and his touch is so gentle as he continues to roll your clit between his thumb and forefinger, pushing you right back up to the edge.

“Bucky,” you whine, shivering slightly as he kisses over your collarbone. “I- I’m gonna cum again-“

“Hold it.” He mutters, and you squeak as he fucking pinches your clit. “You’re cumming on my face next, babygirl, and you need to be ready-“

“I am ready-“

“Nah.” He draws back up, giving you a grin that can only be described as wicked. “Not for what I’m plannin’ with you.”

Your eyes widen, but Bucky’s already moving on.

Tossing you down onto the bed, barely giving you a second to settle before he’s prowling over you, shoving your thighs apart and looking at your dripping pussy with something impossibly close to awe.

“So fucking wet for me, doll.” He mutters, shaking his head. “I can’t- You’re a damn angel, letting me taste you-“

“Bucky,” you whine again. It’s dangerous, how easy he does this to you. “Please-“

His grip on your thighs tightens, as you start to grind up into the air. “Need you to stay still. Can you be good for me and stay still?”

Oh, God. “Yes,” you whisper, and his grin is dangerous.

“Yes, what?”

You hate it when he does that. There’s nothing in the world that’s going to stop you from giving him what he wants, and he fucking knows it, too.

Asshole. Handsome, perfect, stupid James Barnes is an asshole, and you’re going to give him exactly what he wants.

“Yes, sir.”

“There you go.” Bucky hums, running two fingers between the puffy lips of your cunt. “Good girl.”

He dives down before you can think of something smart to say. Then thinking flies out the window all together, because he’s going to make you fly out of your skin and fucking ascend.

He’s doing the tongue thing. Bucky’s doing the tongue thing, right against you, over and over as he eats you out like it’s the end of the fucking world if he doesn’t. Working you into a frenzy on your clit before dropping to your cunt and tongue-fucking you until you’re humping his face. He’s not trying to restrain your movements. Given how he’s groaning, and his hips are jerking against the bed, he’s liking how your thighs are squeezing his head and you’re writhing below him.

And you’re so close. So fast, you’re right back on the edge, and the heat building is a little different, and fuck, he’s so fucking good at this, why is he so fucking good at this-

You make a high sound that’s supposed to be a warning, but just comes out a raw sound of need.

Bucky understands.

And he doubles down.

A new coil in your stomach snaps, when Bucky’s tongue presses flat on your clit, rolling it, and this orgasm is hot and wet. You’ve never been this wet in your fucking life, and never been the wet from before until you met Bucky, but this is different. This like a flood between your legs, and your back is arching off the bed as Bucky keeps his face pressed right against your sex, and you feel a little molten and gooey as it fades, and you’re not sure what just happened, but it felt good.

“You squirted.” Bucky’s voice is low as he rises back up, and he has to be reading your mind. “Shit, I fucking knew it- You’re always so wet, and- That was beautiful, babygirl, tasted to fucking good, wait-“

His lips crash right over yours, and you moan a little stupidly as you taste yourself on his tongue. You’re already limp on the bed, and it feels like heaven, but Bucky notices and draws away.

“You sure you want more?” His question is genuine. And if you tell him to stop there, he will.

But you can see your release, glinting on his dark stubble.

You’re this far gone anyway.

“More.” You whisper, and Bucky’s eyes flash. “Please, Bucky. Need more. I can take it, please-“

It’s a good thing he kisses you when he does. You were embarrassingly close to crying.

It’s another long, slow, fucking passionate kiss. You’re pretty sure this night is a dream. You don’t want to wake up.

“Still got you, babygirl.” He murmurs against your lips. “Gonna take good care of you. You still want it, uh, rough?”

You nod, your head already clear of all thoughts but Bucky, and he lets out a long breath, pressing one last kiss to the space between your eyes as he draws back up.

You don’t know why, but you thought he’d flip you over. Maybe spank you a little before spreading your ass cheeks open and fucking you like an animal from behind.

He doesn’t move from about you. Bucky strokes himself a few times—his own clothing long joined yours in rags on the floor—lining up at your entrance with a deep breath.

You’re getting one last chance to push him away.

You don’t want it.

And when he sees that, something in Bucky seems to snap. You ask for rough. He promised it.

Rough is what you get.

Bucky slams into you with one movement, not bothering to give you time to adjust before he’s fucking you at a brutal pace, his cock driving deep enough to hit your cervix and press right against your g-spot, setting you on fucking fire. He’s holding himself over you with the metal arm, his gaze locked on yours as he watches himself cleave you open, and you have to close your eyes, or you’ll lose your mind. There’s something too deep in his gaze, and it’s going to drive you insane. Being filled up and fucked until you’re drooling, all while Bucky groan pure filth above you, is more than enough.

“Taking my cock so fucking well, you were made for me, doll, made to be fucked so good- Look at me.” Bucky growls, grabbing your jaw, and there’s no more hiding. Bucky’s eyes are dark and hungry on yours, and you can feel him everywhere as he splits you open. “Open.”

It takes one squeeze of your jaw for you to understand, but then you’re obeying without thought.

“Let me hear you.” Bucky groans, his dick slamming right into that deep part of you. “C’mon, make all your pretty fuckin’ sounds for me babydoll-“

You let out a high, loud whine, and Bucky grins, the bed squeaking as his pace picks up.

“Good girl.”

You were already sensitive from his mouth and fingers. And that’s enough. You fly back over the edge with a weak sound, your pussy squeezing and fluttering around Bucky’s cock, and somewhere far in the distance you can hear him roar your name as he slams home.

It sends another, smaller aftershock orgasm through you again. It’s going to hurt to sit tomorrow.

Good.

Bucky has the same habit when he cums in your pussy that he does with your mouth. Pulling just far enough out that he’s still pumping you full of him, all while allowing the rest of it to dribble down your thighs and onto your ass. The only difference is that with this, he’ll roll his cock right back into you, letting out a long groan as his brow drops to your shoulder.

You don’t know how long you both lay there. Bucky’s cock still filling you up, everything about him everywhere around you, your head lost in a daze of Bucky. So fucking good, and warm, and—in this stolen moment—yours.

Bucky takes a long, ragged breath, and slowly pulls out, leaving you a little aching and empty.

“Stay here, baby.” He mutters, and you hum. You’ll have to go soon.

For now, you’re indulging yourself.

Bucky’s cleaning up after himself, just like he always does. A warm, wet washcloth between your legs, and a kiss to your inner thigh that’s far too gentle. A little water and chocolate that he sits you up to eat, holding it out and glaring until you take it.

You sigh. “Bucky-“

“You need it.” He grunts. “You know you need it.”

He wasn’t wrong. You’re still a little lightheaded, and he’s left bruises on your hips that you love, and you know Bucky hates. He thinks they’re hurting you. It doesn’t matter that you asked him for it, he’s still going to hate them.

He doesn’t know you fucking cry, like some pathetic, lovesick idiot, whenever they fade. To you, they’re proof he touched you.

But you still take the water and food. Bucky wants you to, and you’ll do anything for him.

You’ll even participate in the dance where he crawls back into bed, pulls you into his body with his arms around your stomach, and presses a kiss to your shoulder. The game you both play where you pretend this is really the last time, and that you’re not going to be gone the moment Bucky’s asleep. It’s an odd game. He’s holding you because he’s pretending he’ll care if you go. You’re letting him because you want him to make you stay. You leave because you have to, if you want to survive. Bucky doesn’t stop you, because right now—if you ask either of you—that was the last time.

It won’t be. You always say it is, and you both know you’re far from the last time, but you also know that one day, there will be a last time. And it will break you, and Bucky won’t clean you up, and then you’ll just have to… Keep going.

And this is the worst part.

Bucky’s breathing is even behind you, and his body is relaxed. He’s done his part, and fallen asleep. Now you have to do yours, and leave. This was the last time—and even as you think it, you know it’s not the truth, but you have to pretend it is—and now you have to leave.

You start by trying to squirm away from him, but Bucky’s muscles flex, and suddenly you’re pinned tighter to his chest. Then you try to roll, and his legs tangle into yours. Prying arms away just makes him drag you closer. Trying to scramble quickly ends with him half on top of you.

This isn’t how the dance is supposed to go.

You’re supposed to just leave. Without a fight, or resistance. Bucky’s supposed to stay asleep as you gather your clothing and slip out the door. He’s supposed to bunch all the blankets in his arm to replace where you’d been, and breathe out a little sigh of your name that makes you cry in the shower a few hours later.

He’s not supposed to be looking at you, when you roll over in his arms.

“What are you doing?” You whisper.

“Tried to fuck you good enough you couldn’t walk away.” He mutters, watching you so fucking carefully. Like he’s afraid you’ll turn into nothing but air if he says the wrong thing. “Guess I shoulda known better.”

“Bucky-“

“You never stay.” He scans over your face, something painful in his eyes you don’t want to stare at for too long, or you’ll start crying. “Nothin’ I do is ever enough to make you stop leaving.”

“I leave because you never ask me to stay.” You whisper, and Bucky sighs.

“I never ask you to stay cause I think you want to leave.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

You’re staring at each other, and being the first one to move—away or deeper into Bucky—is the most terrifying thought in the world. You could leave, and this will be the last time. And you’ll lose him. You’ll stay, and he’ll want you now but not later, and you’ll lose him. You’re going to lose him, because there’s no world where something this good just happens, and you want to stay but the most important thing about this has been never losing Bucky-

“If I ask you to stay,” Bucky mutters, tracing metal fingers carefully over your cheekbone. “What would you say? And before you answer,” he adds in a rushed tone. “I want to tell you something.”

You frown at him, your confusion obviously written all over your face, and Bucky sighs.

“I’m not telling you because I’m tryin’ to make you stay. If you wanna go, you’re free. Won’t drag you back, no matter how much I want to.”

“Bucky,” you whisper, and you’re lying down, but you’re still a little dizzy. “I don’t know what you’re talking about-“

“I love you.” His words are soft, but firm. Certain. And the world might have stopped moving. “I don’t know a lot, you know I don’t, but I know I love you. I’d do anythin’ for you, and that includes letting you go. If that’s what you want.”

“Bu-“

“Wait,” he shakes his head, holding your gaze. “I do want you to stay. If that’s what you’ve been waiting for, if that’s all I’ve had to do, then I love you,” he says your name, and the world must have stopped. This can only have happened because the world stopped, and everything dies, and now you’re in heaven.

But Bucky’s warm and strong around you. And he feels real. Looks real. Tastes real, still lingering on your tongue.

You swallow. You have to speak slowly, or this might all slip through your fingers. “Are asking me to stay?”

“Think so.” He gives you a small, slightly nervous grin. “And let me love you. Be my girl. You know, if you’ll have me-“

“Of course I’ll have you.” The words fall out of you like you’re a waterfall, spilling into the river, but that’s just how this is. There’s gravity, so of course the water goes down. You love Bucky, so there’s no world where you don’t have him.

Bucky raises his brows. “Of course?”

You nod, trying to ride the wave of frantic confidence, not allowing yourself to look anywhere but Bucky. “Yeah. I- I love you too.”

It’s good to say. You’ve spent so long choking on it, and now it’s free, and you can breathe so easily. You’d forgotten what it was like, to not be strangling yourself with your own secret. It’s like having a fruit after years of only eating ash.

But Bucky’s just staring at you with wide, deep, blue eyes, his lips parted and fingers still so carefully on your cheek.

He looks a little like an angel.

“You sure?” His voice is hoarse, but there’s something soft under it, and it’s the same thing you can feel in your heart.

Fear. Of losing something you’ve barely even had.

But you want it. And Bucky wants you.

So there’s nowhere else to go. All you have to do is stay here.

“Yeah,” you give him a small smile, and his grin splits his face. “I’m sure.”

You’ll talk later. For now Bucky just pulls you further into his body, and kisses the top of your head. In a way, that was the last time. And the first.

Because you stay.

All through the night, and a long, long, long while after, you stay.

End Note: how many times do I have to write something like this before it happens to me?

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clairewritesfanfics · 4 months ago

Text

No Goggles!Mark Grayson Origin

Pairing: No Goggles!Invincible x Older!Reader

You were older than him by several years, enough that you jokingly once claimed to be a whole generation apart. But your Mark didn’t care about that. He was absolutely smitten.

He adored how you always seemed to know what to say when he was troubled, and when to not say anything at all. He loved how you were always so patient with him, so understanding of his trauma and struggles and moments of vulnerability. Oh, the way you would hold him so gently–your tenderness the only thing holding him together. You were his safe place to land on.

Though you knew his affections were genuine, every now and then, you would express insecurity of your age-gap, of your flabs and wrinkles that get more and more difficult to get rid of with each birthday.

But he simply couldn’t wrap his mind around it. Your anxiety and fear about your years and looks made no sense to him. In his eyes, you were better than any naïve and over-excitable brat his age. Everyone he’s ever had before you was so annoying and loud and complicated and exhausting.

Nothing was ever like that with you.

You were mature, reserved and kind, and gorgeous, so devastatingly perfect that nothing and no one could ever come close. And he loved, loved, loved whenever you praised him. When you would softly cup his cheek, thumb his lips and call him “your good boy.” He was putty in your hands. He would fall to his knees and gladly spend hours worshipping you, uncaring of his own needs.

And he could never be a brat, even when he often fantasized about getting punished by you in the sweetest way possible.

He never ever wanted to disappoint you. That's why, even when he wanted nothing more than to spend his days buried inside you, he would reluctantly kiss you goodbye every morning and work hard to save the world.

All your love, your attention, your praises and admiration, he wanted them all for himself. He didn’t care about the adulation of the population or the friendships of others, not really, he just kept it around because you wanted him to have a “healthy social circle.”

He didn’t care about anything else, only pretended because you’d be sad otherwise. You were it for him. Forever and always.

Until one day, you just decided that he wasn’t it. You were always clear about what you wanted and firm with your boundaries, and he thought he loved that about you, because you made everything so easy for him, but right now he wished you weren’t so straightforward. Right now he wished you were one of those immature girls who’d get all angry and pouty and tell him “everything is fine,” but really they wanted him to coddle and comfort them.

“I’m sorry, Mark,” you said, voice cracking but your were clear.

“I-is it something I did?”

“No, of course not, you’re… you’re perfect, but I…” you paused, thinking deeply about what to say next. You crossed your arms. “I really need to be away from you for a while.”

“Why?”

You closed your eyes.

He fell forward, hands grasping your waist. His puppy eyes were wet with devastation. “I'm sorry.”

“For what?”

“For whatever it is I did! I really am, just tell me what I did wrong a-and i promise I'll fix it.”

You reached for his face and he leaned into your touch like a desperate dog. “This is why we need a break.”

His eyes widened with surprise.

You chuckled. “Mark, I know you love me and I love you–” his hands tightened around you “–but I can't help but think that maybe what’s between us is unhealthy.”

You put a finger to his mouth before he could protest. “Let me speak, okay?”

Naturally, he nodded.

You sighed. “Sweetheart, you… haven’t you noticed? You never contradict me.”

He tilted his head but remained quiet.

“You’re always so kind to me, always so patient when I get all moody and temperamental. You never get angry with me. Not once since the day we first met.” At first, it was cute. But you’ve never had a fight for over two years. that was not normal, not in a healthy relationship. He always went along with what you wanted, never seriously voiced a contrarian opinion, never regarded you with anger. He answered your every beck and call. He bought you things–and you liked the little trinkets that he would randomly purchase because they reminded him of you, but you didn’t know how to react when he bought you a whole penthouse when you complained about your rundown apartment. He spent his days off with you, or when you were at work, he would wait for you to come home.

It was suffocating. He didn’t stalk you, you never had proof, but you felt guilty spending time with friends when you knew he would be waiting for you. He never got mad, only grateful when you used his time on him. It was too much. it felt like you had a pet instead of a partner.

You compared him to a puppy more times than you could count, but Mark wasn’t a dog.

He was young. He should be spending more time with his peers and experiencing what life has to offer.

“You shouldn’t spend all your time with an old-timer like me.” You didn’t hate your age, but it felt noticeable when you were with him. You weren’t interested in parties or travelling or adventures, you’d rather spend your time at home. But Mark's unusual attachment to you meant he was stuck in your apartment instead of experimenting and having fun with his friends. “That's why this break will be good… for the both of us.”

“Do you really want this?” he asked quietly.

Your heart broke at his question. He was so selfless even when you were hurting him. “Just a couple of months apart, and…” and hopefully he will realize he has better options and you can break up properly.

No contact for three months. Mark reluctantly agreed to your conditions, and with one last kiss, left for his apartment, where he would endure three months without seeing you, hearing you, and tasting you.

It was hell. He often woke up in the middle of the night to find himself mid-flight and en route to your place. He was tempted to continue flying, to take a peek, but he made a promise and he’d rather get struck by a meteor than break a promise to you. So he would sullenly return to his own bed, too bare and cold for his liking, and force himself back to sleep.

Your plan for him to become less attached to you backfired horribly. Rather than spend his free days with his “friends,” he would fly around the solar system punching out whatever poor thing was close, letting out tension he would usually release by holding you, or being held by you. Instead of splurging his money on himself, he would go around mall to mall buying anything and everything that he thought you would like, including an especially opulent ring that would look good on your finger.

Every day that passed without being able to touch you deepened his feelings. This was his idea of foreplay. Once you two got back together in another month, you would realize how serious he was about you, he would double down on his efforts to show you how much you mean to him, and you will never need to have another break from each other again. He’ll make sure of that.

A/N: Surprise, surprise, another reader insert with an emotionally broken man.

Edit: After much review, I have decided to make this part of No Goggles/Lensless!Mark Grayson's origins. He honestly strikes me as someone who would thrive with an older SO.

Part 2

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zolass · 5 months ago

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Lust and Envy Top Male Reader x Perv Male Best Friend Oc I don't know where I wanted to go with this but I'll probably drop a part 2 because I do have some ideas to continue ngl. Also I'm mostly experimenting with those TvT and yes they'll fuck bc I'll make em. content/warning: smut, p in v, does it count as dub-con?, cuckolding, protected sex, perverted best friend, toy and cum and lube, if there's more I'm sry.

1.6k words

You’ve been friends with Nathan for quite a few years, you also heard weird shit spewing from his lips or him asking you a few weirdish requests, yet never something remotely close to this.

“You want me to do what?” you asked in utter disbelief– he couldn’t possibly be serious. Your brows were furrowed together, your jaw working as you grind your teeth a bit in irritation. Nathan’s blue eyes looked slightly up at you, nervous at your reaction, “Well– I just want to see what it’s like to see–” your palm hit your forehead as your eyes closed and you counted down from ten, before you opened your eyes again. “Nathan sometimes I’m questioning why I’m still friends with you– fucking your girlfriend while you watch?” you repeated his request.

This was the with utmost certainty the stupidest thing your best friend ever requested. Nathan shrugged his shoulders, “You’re like the only one I could’ve asked–” “Nathan I’m not even interested in women like that, I wouldn’t even get a boner at seeing a pussy in front of me,” you said. Truth to be told, you did in fact already did something like this before– yet you were actually fucking the boyfriend while the girlfriend watched, to be fair you only did it after making sure you wouldn’t get any smoke from whatever might happen after the experience.

But with Nathan it was different, he wanted you to fuck his girlfriend, it wasn’t a random couple that you probably never see again, it’s someone,despite the many times you questioned yourself being friends with him, close to you. “What if you simply think it’s a guy– come on I’ll owe you one,” Nathan said, grabbing onto your arms while putting on the puppy eyes.

Closing your eyes, you sighed in defeat, “You look stupid with that look on your face,” you simply stated before opening your eyes and glancing down at Nathan, who had a goofy smile on his lips, “Where and when?”

This was how you found yourself two days later on a saturday, early evening in your best friend's apartment. You stood in the bedroom with the couple, already naked. You looked at the woman standing across from you, before your eyes landed on Nathan who sat in a chair close to the bed, then back to Lexie.

Without a word, the woman kneeled in front of you and took your soft dick in her hands, giving it a few strokes while you tried really hard to imagine it was a guy. Already regretting saying yes, but Nathan this little fucker knew you rarely said no to any of his requests, but before Lexie could take your dick in your mouth you stopped her, “Let’s not– I’ll just do it or else it’ll probably stay limp for the rest of the night,” you said. The woman only glanced at you with a raised eyebrow before she shrugged and stood up.

You grabbed your dick and gave it a few strokes, added with a bit extra help of memories of your past hook-ups you got your cock to be semi-hard, you bit your lip as a grunt was about to leave you, before you opened your eyes and quickly grabbed the condom you took with you. As you glanced over to Nathan, you already saw he had his pants slightly shuffled down, and his dick hard against his stomach.

Whatever flows one's boat.

You ripped the condom open with your teeth, before you made quick work on rolling it onto your length. The bed queked under the pressure of one person, as you looked over you saw Lexie’s ass facing you, so maybe she did know that you were gay or whatever, at least you didn’t have to see her face. When you took a few steps over to the bed, placing a hand on the curve of her ass, you lined up your cock up to her pussy before you pushed in you, trying your best to trick yourself that it was simply a guy.

As you pushed in, you didn’t feel as much tightness as you thought, yet the moment her moan sounded, you grabbed her nape and pushed her face into the sheets before thrusting your entire length in. The muffled moan made it easier for you to forget that it was a woman, as you started to harshly thrust your hips while your eyes were squeezed shut. Small grunts started to erupt from you, as you picked up the pace, the light stimulation of the clenching while your mind was somewhere else helped quite well.

It didn’t take long for a load moan to erupt from Lexie, as her body shuddered and her hole clenched around you as she came, you quickly pulled your dick out, even if you wore a condom, and all that her moans made it painfully obvious that she wasn’t a guy. “I’ll jerk off in the bathroom,” you spoke bluntly, before leaving the bedroom to go into the bathroom, closing the door behind you.

You didn’t want to be blue balled after all of this, so you took your hard cock in your hand and started to give it long strokes, before quickening the pace. Small groans left you, until you came in the condom. Resting your forehead against the cool wall, you shaky breaths as your orgasm welled down and the last spurt of cum landed in the condom before you pulled it off and tied a knot at the top and threw it in the bin.

Before you tugged your cock back in, you cleaned yourself before stalking back to the bedroom where your pants, and other stuff was. As you walked inside the bedroom, you were rather expecting the two of them to go at it like jackrabbits, but both of them were in the same places they were before you left the bedroom.

Pursing your lips, feeling rather awkward and out of place now, you quickly put on your boxers, pants and shirt, before you grab all the necessities you brought wherever you go, you looked at your best friend, whose legs were spread with a white substance all over his shirt and stomach, you couldn’t help the slight snort escaping you gaining the attention of Nathan, “Seems like you really owe me one now, I’ll be going,” you said after putting on your shoes and ready to walk out, “Where’s the condom?” the stupid question came from your friend, to which you looked back at him with your eyebrows knitted together, “In the bin where the hell else?” “Oh–” a dumb smile formed on Nathan’s lips to which you only rolled your eyes, “Take care– both of you.”

With those words you were quickly out of the apartment on your way back home. Yea you were quite stupid for going along with your friend, a dry chuckle left you. Unknownst to you, it didn’t take long for Lexie to also leave her boyfriend’s apartment, saying something about a late ‘girl’s night weekend’, leaving Nathan alone.

Nathan had his head leaned back on the back of the seat, as he simply stared at the ceiling. He remembers clearly how you looked with your eyes closed, small grunts coming through your lips, a frown on your face as even with your eyes closed you seemed focused as you thrust your hips so vigorously. The loud clapping of skin hitting skin, had him wishing it was him underneath you instead of Lexie, just the thought alone of getting his asshole pounded into the mattress by you, had him climaxing.

Then he suddenly remembered the condom you had used, he bit his lip as he stood up before almost making a dash to the bathroom. As he looked into the bin, he saw the tied condom beside some papers you’d used, biting his lip he fished the condom out as he felt the blood rushing to his dick.

He swiftly walked out of the bathroom, to the kitchen in which he grabbed a pair of scissors, only to rush back into his bedroom to grab a box from underneath his bed, after he put the condom and scissors on the bed. Unlatching the handle and opening the top, only to reveal the pink dildo, which basically had the same size as your own.

Nathan bit his lip as he grabbed the dildo and put it on the bed, hastily undressing himself, he snatched the condom and the scissors before cutting the knot off and throwing the scissors into the box in which he hid the dildo. His hole clenched and unclenched in excitement while his cock was basically weeping, dirtying the sheets even further. Slowly he arched his back his ass sticking out, while he looked concentrated back as he slowly let a bit of the white liquid inside the condom drop onto his cheeks, feeling it run down his crack making his dick twitch, before he emptied the rest of your cum on the dildo lubing it up with it.

He couldn’t help but swallow as he simply threw the now almost empty condom somewhere, as he quickly grabbed onto the dildo, keeping it as steady as he could while he lined up his hole with the tip. Shaking with excitement, he basically plunged the entire length inside of his hole, like he did quite a few times before. Nathans back arched, as his eyes rolled to the back of his head and a loud shameless moan rippled from his throat.

The tip pressed right against his prostate, as a spurt of cum shot out of his tip. Not wasting any more time, Nathan started to ride the toy with eagerness imagining it was you, all the while the knowledge of using your cum as lube, thrilled him. He pulled one orgasm out after the other, just wishing it was you ruining him instead of a toy, until he passed out on the drenched sheets with the dildo lodged in his ass.

Nathan didn’t know how long he could continue, until the greed ultimately got to him.

#zolass writes #male x male #male reader #x male reader #mlm #gay #top male reader

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lynnieverse · 6 months ago

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like real people do // drew starkey

oneshot

drew stakery x popstar!reader

synopsis: after a little slip up in an interview where you accidentally reveal your celebrity crush, things get a little complicated when someone starts meddling.

4.2k words

highly requested part two here!

You knew doing the interview was going to bite you in the ass. Nothing good ever came from distracting you with puppies and asking personal questions. So, when the interviewer innocently asked your celebrity crush, you didn’t hesitate to say Drew Starkey. It didn’t hit you until afterward, sitting in the back of your car, debriefing with your assistant.

“I can’t believe you said your celebrity crush though,” she said, eyebrows raised. Your heart stutters a bit and you quickly whip your head towards her.

“No I didn’t.”

“Um…yeah, you did.” Panic spiked through your veins, sweat beading on your brow.

“Oh shit. Oh shit! Amara, tell me I didn’t say who I’m thinking of,” you grip her arm tightly, eyes pleading. Amara winces and looks at you with what could only be pity. “No!”

Madelyn was going to kill you.

You met Madelyn Cline a few months ago at the People’s Choice Awards when you were presenting. You’d instantly clicked and made plans to hang out the next week. Everything was going really great, and you were doing a good job at keeping your little crush a secret. Now, it’ll come out, be circulated everywhere online, and Madelyn’s going to think you’re some crazy stalker. How would she react to you having a crush on her co-star? Definitely not well.

Amara places a comforting hand on your shoulder, smiling sympathetically. “It’s okay, Y/N, it’s just a silly interview. Nobody will take it seriously.”

“Everyone will take it seriously! I don’t know why I started fraternizing with actors, I need to stick to my lane.”

“Hey, why don’t you write a song about it? It might help.” You thought about it for a moment, feeling the familiar bubble of lyrics tickling the back of your mind. Writing always helps you calm down, maybe putting the feelings on paper would make them go away.

As the car stopped in front of your hotel, flashes from the paparazzi’s cameras were bright even through the tinted windows. You sigh and grab a jacket, wrapping it around your head like a shield, and wait for security to open the door. You ignore the loud shouting as you dash inside, closely followed by Amara and the rest of the crew. Inside isn’t much better, but at least the other guests have the decency to leave you alone for now.

You sometimes feel bad, often making it up later by signing a bunch of autographs outside, but right now you’re exhausted and embarrassed. The interview threw off your whole day, and you just want to lay in bed and watch trashy reality television.

Your security escorts you to the elevator, and then does a sweep of your room before eventually leaving. Finally alone, you put on your rattiest and comfiest pajamas, take off all your makeup, and throw your hair up before jumping in bed. You reach for the remote to start your aforementioned binge, but hesitate over the little purple notebook you carry everywhere. Sighing, you know you won’t be able to relax without getting it all out. You dig through your bag and find a glittery pink pen, uncapping it with your teeth and getting to work.

You’ve never met Drew, not once, but something about him just had you giggling like a schoolgirl. Witnessing his kindness through your constant internet stalking quickly proved to be a bad idea, because now you have a big fat crush on the man and he doesn’t even know you exist.

Well that’s not true. Everyone knows you exist, but he would never think of you that way. Dating as a popular musician was not as easy as one might think, it’s often too much for people. The words start flowing with ease, filling up the cream pages in no time.

Gleaming

Twinkling

Eyes like sinking ships

On waters so inviting

I almost jump in

His eyes really are beautiful. So blue, so warm. But the feelings you have aren’t logical, and they’re so exhausting.

But I don't like a gold rush, gold rush

I don't like anticipating my face in a red flush

I don't like that anyone would die to feel your touch

Everybody wants you

Everybody wonders what it would be like to love you

He’s the internet's boyfriend right now, edits flying around like crazy. You know dozens of people back home who are definitely salivating over this man. Something about him…you can’t put your finger on it.

What must it be like

To grow up that beautiful?

With your hair falling into place like dominos

Every silly thought you’d ever had poured out onto the page. By the time you were finished you knew it was a hit. Grabbing your guitar you make a split second decision to tease your fans a bit. Unlocking your phone, you quickly open Instagram and go live before you can stop yourself. Your face pops up on the screen, thousands of people already in and commenting.

“Hey guys! I just finished a new song and wanted to play a little for you if that’s alright?” You smirk, knowing the answer already. Of course, everyone starts freaking out and flooding the comments with different affirmations and emojis. You laugh, loving every second of it, before strumming the beginning chords on your guitar.

As you start singing you let your eyes close, feeling each note in your soul, pressing every callus on your worn fingertips. The pacing is a little rough, still getting the hang of the new melody, but you know as soon as you finish that you killed it. So many fans are expressing their love for the song, already asking for it to be out on streaming platforms. Others are curious as to who your muse is, throwing out the wildest guesses you’d ever seen.

“Chace Crawford?!” you exclaim, face contorted in surprise. “Y’all have a distorted sense of my ability to pull these men,” you laugh in disbelief. Your heart skips a beat when a couple comments actually guess correctly, but don’t react, knowing every single microexpression is analyzed.

“Alright guys, I think I’m going to eat myself into a sugar coma while watching Love Island, but thank you for listening! I’m glad you enjoyed the song,” you wink to the camera before waving and closing the app. Covering your face with your hands, you fall backwards on the bed, letting your guitar rest beside you. You don’t even want to check social media, already knowing screen recordings of the live will be everywhere.

Sometimes it’s crazy to think this many people care about your day to day life. The art you create touches lives across the globe. It’s both amazing and terrifying at the same time.

Not wanting to start an existential crisis on a random Tuesday night, you quickly turn on your show and cuddle up under the duvet.

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

By the weekend the interview was everywhere. You’ve stayed out of it, going pretty much radio silent in response. Many are asking if you’re secretly dating, if you were going to write a song for the new season of Outer Banks, if Drew felt the same way…it’s insane.

You’d purposely put off talking to Madelyn out of sheer embarrassment. That man was like her brother and you admitted to liking him. Still, it’s time to address the issue head on, so you dial her number shakily. The phone rings three times before she answers, a sweet greeting sounding through the speakers.

“Y/N?” You clear your throat, reluctant to speak.

“Hey…” You wince at how rough your voice sounds, facepalming at your own awkwardness.

“What’s up, girl?” Madelyn sounds normal, but you know she has to be weirded out by you.

“Um, nothing much, just wanted to talk to you about something I may have said recently.”

“Is this about the puppy interview?”

“Yes?” Your voice comes out squeaky, nose scrunched. But Madelyn just starts laughing. You stare at your phone in confusion. What the hell?

“I can’t believe you finally admitted it, and during an interview? That was ballsy as hell!” You slowly start to regain your breath, brain processing her words.

“You’re not mad?”

“Why would I be mad?” she snorts.

“I didn’t want you to think I was using you to get to him.”

“Are you?”

“No! Of course not!”

“Okay then, there’s no problem.” A breath of relief escapes, and you put a hand on your chest. She’s not mad.

“Thank you so much for understanding, I really love our friendship.”

“Me too,” Mads says sincerely. “Now we just have to figure out how to get you two together!”

Your eyes widen. “What? Absolutely not. This was not an invitation for you to play matchmaker, Mads.”

“Aw man, why not? I could literally get you both in the same room tonight.” Your heart starts beating out of your chest, feeling more anxiety talking about this than being on any stage.

“He’s probably seen the interview by now, it’s so embarrassing!”

“It’s not embarrassing, Y/N. You’re attracted to the man, it’s not that crazy of a concept! Just give me a chance, please?”

“Nope. I don’t want to bother him or weird him out. Let’s just do something me and you; are you in L.A.?”

“Ugh, fine. Yes I’m here, just come over whenever.” You can feel her annoyance across the line, but ignore it. You’re not going to let her meddle.

“See you then!” Mads ends the call, sending you back into your shame spiral. Every little thing you do is always picked apart and ridiculed in the media, and you’re usually a lot more careful with what you say. The interview slip up is going to keep you up at night for the rest of your life.

Hours pass waiting for the appropriate time to head over to Madelyn’s house. You decide to dress comfortably, but have your makeup done on the off chance pictures are taken. The drive over is quiet, save for the initial crowd outside your house. How it’s legal for celebrities' addresses to be available on the internet, is something you’ll never understand.

When you pull up you notice a Jeep in her driveway and shake your head. That girl is always spending money. Your phone pings with yet another Twitter update and you roll your eyes. How can this be the most popular thing in the world right now? You glance at the notification and see it’s Drew’s name that’s trending. Huh. Interesting.

You decide to follow your instincts and ignore it, wanting to focus on girls night with Mads. As you approach the porch you find yourself nervous; even though she wasn’t mad, you still feel bad for causing such an uproar around her co-star.

Three knocks later you're waiting outside her front door in anticipation. You find yourself shifting from foot to foot, tracing the cracks in the stonework with your eyes. When the door opens you look up with a smile, expecting Madelyn’s smiling face, only to be met with the very man that had haunted you the past week. You gasp, words catching in your throat as you stare.

Drew was wearing a black T-shirt and grey sweatpants, his hair looked freshly cut into a soft mullet, and he looked just as surprised as you do. You can’t seem to close your gaping mouth, a pained sound escaping without realizing.

“Uh, hi,” Drew says sheepishly, hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. Eyes wide, you turn on your heel and speed walk away, leaving him alone in the doorway. You’re fumbling with your keys, cursing under your breath, when you hear a shout from behind you.

“Y/N!”

You almost make it inside your car when an iron grip latches onto your upper arm, yanking you back.

“Hey!” you protest, almost losing your balance as you’re dragged back to Mads’ house.

“Oh no you don’t, you’re not getting away that easily.”

“Madelyn Renee Cline, let me go!” You struggle against her grip, but only cause her nails to dig in deeper.

“You’re not leaving, Y/N, I won’t let you.” She finally stops when you’re once again at the door, but she doesn’t let go. Drew must’ve gone back inside, thank God, but Madelyn is glaring at you.

“Don’t look at me like that! How could you do this to me?” You give her your most withering look. She rolls her eyes at you, only pissing you off more.

“Just talk to him. I promise he doesn’t think you’re weird, or whatever you’ve concocted.”

“Well he might now!”

“That’s your own fault, I can’t believe you ran away,” she snickers, pulling you inside and closing the door. When she finally lets go of your arm, you rub the crescent indentions with a wince. The girl has some nails.

“Fine. Let’s go.” Mads looks taken aback, freezing in place.

“Really?!” You give her a pointed look. “Right, be cool. Okay come on follow me, he went back to the living room.” Reluctantly, you do just that, trailing closely behind her. You’re a ball of nerves, and can already feel your stomach twisting to knots.

Madelyn was right, he was lounging on the couch, absentmindedly scrolling on his phone. When he hears you two approach, his head shoots up and his back immediately straightens.

“Everything okay?” he asks, voice smooth and melodic. Your cheeks warm, and you avoid eye contact as much as possible.

“Um, yeah. I just–you know.” You jab your thumb back awkwardly, not even you know what you’re trying to say. But Drew cracks a smile, looking at you fondly and nodding along, as if you make perfect sense.

Madelyn’s eyes flit between you with a wide smile on her face. Not knowing what else to do, you sit down on the couch, as far away from him as possible, and stare straight ahead. Silence ensues, and you have absolutely no idea what to do in this situation. Thankfully, Madelyn breaks the silence.

“So…want to watch a movie?”

“Yes!” You and Drew speak at the same time, causing you to stare at each other shyly. Madelyn smirks and comes around the couch, forcefully sitting between you and the arm rest. You shoot her a what the fuck look and she simply shrugs.

“I like the armrest! Scooch.” Begrudgingly, you inch closer to Drew, who pretends not to notice the entire exchange. As soon as you're settled you sit pin straight, not wanting to breach the confines of your cushion. Drew’s left ankle is resting comfortably on his knee, arm thrown over the side of the couch in what seems to be a very relaxing position. Mads rolls her eyes and pulls out an ottoman, giving you something to stretch your feet out on so you can lean back.

It takes forever to pick a movie, suspiciously so, but it’s Madelyn’s house and you’re not going to say anything. Once she finally picks Avatar, she dims the lights from her phone and the three of you settle in for what’s going to be a weird couple hours.

⋆ ˚｡ ⋆୨♡୧⋆ ˚｡ ⋆

Everything was going fine, until suddenly Madelyn got tired at nine and decided to go to bed…leaving you and Drew alone. You mentally cursed your friend for putting you in this position, obviously not listening to the blanket “no matchmaking” statement from before.

You glance at him from the corner of your eye and find him already looking at you. He quickly looked away and started tapping his fingers on his knee nervously. The movie had long since been forgotten and no words had been exchanged.

“So…” you manage, turning to face him slowly. He smiles at you, running a hand through his hair and making his bicep flex. Your stomach does a little flip flop and your face reddens at where your mind went. Drew smirks like he knows exactly what just happened, but doesn’t comment.

“I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.” His voice, oh my God. “I’m Drew, it’s nice to meet you.” He holds out his hand to shake, and you clumsily take it, feeling the warmth envelop your palm immediately.

“I’m Y/N, it’s nice to meet you too,” you smile, swallowing the anxiety.

“I’m a fan of your work, actually, you’re really good.”

Your eyes almost bulge out of your head. “You listen to my songs?” Drew laughs and shakes his head, shooting you a look you don’t quite understand.

“Are you being serious?” he leans forward a bit, surprise evident on his face. You scrunch your eyebrows, tilting your head to the side.

“What do you mean?”

“You’re easily the most popular musician of our generation and you don’t think I listen to your music?” You find yourself blushing, and a little flustered.

“Well, I wouldn’t say the most popular…I have quite a few fans, sure, but not everyone vibes with all types of music. I don’t really know what you listen to, and I didn't want to assume anything.” Drew looks you up and down, seeming to size you up.

“You’re not at all what I expected, Y/N Y/L/N.”

“And what did you expect, Drew Starkey?”

“Well, I don’t know to be honest, but you’re surprisingly humble for someone as successful as you.” You had actually gotten that a lot, although you didn’t think it was being humble so much as being a decent person. You’re still just the girl who grew up in a perfectly normal town, with normal loving parents and a wonderful home. Just because you make popular music doesn’t mean you’ve changed at all. Plus, you know it could all go away with the snap of your fingers.

“I don’t know what to say, I’m just like everyone else,” you shrug.

“I beg to differ. You’re…extraordinary. You have to know that?” There goes that damn stomach flip again.

“Thank you,” you look down at your lap. “I could say the same for you. I love your projects.” His eyes light up at the mention of his work, making you smile in turn.

“Thank you! I love everything I’ve been a part of, especially OBX. I met my second family on that set, you know?” You didn’t know, actually. Being on the road all the time meant limited options for friendships, and no time for the ones you did manage to keep. Mads is the first girlfriend other than Amara–who you employ–you’ve had in years.

“Yeah, I love Mads already. I can’t imagine how fun it must be getting to work with your best friends every day…” your voice trails off. Drew seems to notice your shift in mood and decides to change the subject.

“Hey, why don’t you play me something?”

You immediately freeze. “What?” Drew smiles and stands up, searching for something. He disappears in the hallway before emerging a minute later with a beautiful acoustic guitar in his hands. You immediately feel a pull to grab it and start playing, but are still confused.

“Here,” he hands it to you. “I want you to play me something…something nobody has heard yet.” You immediately start racking your brain and decide to take a leap and play something that could get you in trouble.

“Um…okay. This is something I was actually working on today. It’s not finished but I can play a little.” You nervously pick up the guitar, but immediately relax when you feel the rough strings beneath your fingers. You close your eyes, take a deep breath, and try to forget the gorgeous man in front of you.

In the middle of the night, when I'm in this dream

It's like a million little stars spelling out your name

You gotta come on, come on

Say that we'll be together

Come on, come on

Little taste of heaven

You manage to take a peek at him while you strum, catching him totally entranced by the sound of your voice. A little confidence boost flows through you as you continue the song.

But you're untouchable, burning brighter than the sun

And now that you're close I feel like coming undone

In the middle of the night, we can form this dream

I wanna feel you by my side, standing next to me

You gotta come on, come on

Say that we'll be together

Come on, come on

Little taste of heaven

You strum a few more chords before stopping, silently waiting for his reaction. He’s staring at you, mouth parted slightly.

“Another,” he whispers. Surprised, you do what he asks, pulling another unfinished song from the vault in your mind. This one wasn’t about him, not like the last one, but it still applies.

I will not ask you where you came from

I will not ask you, neither should you

Honey just put your sweet lips on my lips

We should just kiss like real people do

You hum for a little longer, this song actually being one of your favorites. Drew is starstruck, an unknown look on his face the whole time. He seems to snap out of it and clears his throat.

“Wow, Y/N. You’re amazing…those were amazing. Were they about anyone in particular?” You internally panic, because duh. But you don’t want to weird him out.

“Um, the first one was,” you whisper, avoiding eye contact. You feel the couch move, and look up to find Drew right beside you. His leg was flush with yours, and he was so close you could see each and every freckle splashed across his cheeks. You also notice his eyes crinkle at the corners slightly when he smiles.

“Can I confess something?” he says softly. You don’t trust your voice, so you nod once. “I saw your interview.” Immediately, the embarrassment causes your face to turn into a tomato.

“Uh–about that…I–” You don’t really have an explanation, but you scramble for one anyway. Drew chuckles and grabs your hand, effectively stopping your rambling and making you redder at the same time.

“Y/N you don’t have to be embarrassed. Did you see my interview?” What interview?

“No? I didn’t know you did one. Should I have?” He squeezes your hand gently and his eyes bore into yours.

“It would’ve made this a lot easier,” he jokes. “They asked for my response to being your celebrity crush.” Fuck.

“Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cause drama for you.”

“You didn’t, I promise. But do you know what my response was?” You shake your head. He hesitates for a moment before grinning, almost shy. “I said that’s a crazy coincidence because you’re my celebrity crush.” Hold the fucking phone, did he just say what you think he said?

“What?”

“I think you’re beautiful, talented, kind, and I’ve always wanted to spend time with you. I didn’t think it was even in my realm of possibilities. Then you befriended Mads, and I thought maybe I had a chance…” Your brain must be short circuiting, because no way in hell Drew Starkey just said the feelings are mutual.

“Oh,” is all you can manage.

“Oh? That’s it?” he smiles, intertwining your fingers.

“I’m honestly so surprised right now, I don’t know what to say.”

“Say you don’t think I’m a weirdo.”

“I don’t think you’re a weirdo,” you shake your head.

“Say you’ll go out with me?” his pitch rises with uncertainty, looking nervous for your response.

“I will definitely go out with you.” Relief floods his features and he tugs you closer, pulling your legs on top of his.

“That was terrifying,” he says, massaging your calf.

“I still cannot believe this is happening right now,” you tell him honestly.

He smirks, leaning in close. “Believe it, baby.” Your heart skips a beat, mind going blank momentarily.

“I think I owe Mads a thank you,” you giggle.

“Fuck that, I’m sending her a damn gift basket.”

“You’re so right, she’s getting an album dedication from me,” you joke, causing Drew to poke you in the ribs.

“Hey, no fair. She’s going to like that so much more!” he whines. You can already see yourself falling head over heels in love with this man, and that scares you more than anything.

“Don’t hate the player, hate the game,” you hold your hands up in defense while Drew rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever, let’s just watch another movie.”

“Sounds like a plan!” you hear from behind the couch. The two of you immediately jump, scared out of your minds, until you realize it’s just Madelyn creeping in the hallway.

“What the fuck?!” Drew yells, clutching his heart dramatically.

“You were supposed to be asleep!” You cross your arms, glaring at your blonde counterpart. She sucks her teeth and shrugs, walking over and plopping down on the couch.

“What can I say, somebody had to get you two together.” You share a look with Drew, both of you simultaneously not surprised, but exasperated by her little games.

“You’re insane,” Drew tells her, taking his spot back on the couch and throwing a pillow at her head.

“It worked didn’t it?”

Yeah. You thought. It really did.

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