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#it's always he/him too . like what's up with that
gojonanami · 2 days
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❝ 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 !! ❞
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❝ WHEN YOUR CHILDHOOD BEST FRIEND OFFERS TO TEACH YOU HOW TO LOVE, HOW CAN YOU SAY NO ?? ❞
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✧ pairing: college student!yuji itadori x f!reader
✧ summary: yuji itadori has been your best friend since you were kids, and when he offers you to teach you how to fuck, you don't expect him to be able to find his way into your heart too.
✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, aged up characters (don't like? don't read), childhood best friends to fwb to lovers, college au! (no curses), reader is the same age as yuji (both 20s), grew up as neighbors, mutual pining, nobara playing cupid, jealous!yuji, yuji is so golden retriever bf, nightmares, mentions of parental death via car crash (yuji), adoptive dad nanamin :), nipple play, oral (f + m), fingering (f! receiving), handjob (m! receiving), semi public sex (under a blanket with sleeping friends nearby), sex (p in v), creampie, swearing, fanart by unknown artist (found on pinterest, pls let me know if you know the og artist so i can credit)
✧ wc: 13,544
✧ for my 2k celebration event: item 5 has been sold to two anons!
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“You want me to teach you?” 
The words left your best friend’s lips nonchalantly as if he was asking you if you wanted him to teach you how to ride a bike. 
But that’s not what he was offering to have you ride—
“Yuji,” you say slowly, “what are you saying? Do you even know what you’re saying?” 
Yuji Itadori was dense, but you knew he was far from stupid. You learned that in third grade when he punched a bully that had been picking on you, the final straw being when he had tripped you, causing you to skin your knee. Before you could even well any tears up in your eyes, you heard a thwack and a yelp as Yuji had laid the boy out on the playground. You stared at Yuji, as he offered you his other hand to help you to your feet, as your eyes slid from him to your bully. 
Yuji knelt down, carrying you on his back to the nurse’s office, “but Yuji, what about him? We left him—“ 
And he set you down outside the nurse’s office — and he only smiled that wide smile he had always reserved for you, “Don’t worry — I made sure no one was looking.” 
But now, you were beginning to doubt his sanity, rather than his intelligence — “I know what I’m saying,” he chuckles, trademark smile on his lips, “I’m just offering you the chance to practice,” 
“This isn’t practicing a sport or test—you’re offering,” you shift on your bed, while Yuji lounges on the floor, back against the bottom of your bed, “you’re offering to sleep with me, Yuji,” he leans his head on your bed, looking up at you at way, your face upside in his vision. 
“I know, I know, but it’s not a big deal is it?” he’s acting so nonchalant you wonder if one of his teammates had hit him hard in the head during practice, “we’ve had all our firsts together,” 
You scoff, “That was like our first steps, first day of school, first drink—“ 
“First kiss—“ he interrupts, and your face burns at the memory — a preadolescent game gone wrong that ended up with you and Yuji sharing your first kiss when you were teens. 
“That wasn’t real,” you wave him off, crossing your arms, “and this isn’t just a kiss for a game—this could change our friendship—“ 
“It won’t, if we don’t let it,” his gaze is more serious than you’ve ever seen Yuji be — not when he was usually all wide smiles and enthusiasm, “it’s us, we can get through it, and we don’t have to let it get weird right?” 
You chew on your lip, “Yuji, what do you get out of it?” And he’s tilting his head at your question— “I mean you don’t have to do this — just because I’m insecure because I don’t have experience,” you mumble. 
And that’s how the conversation had started — your complaints about your friends talking about their boyfriends, exes, and hookups, while you just nodded along — far too aware that you hadn’t even had a proper kiss, much less sex. And now you had found yourself here. 
“Look,” he slides up to sit on your bed, a good distance away from you, his eyes finding yours — warm hazel that felt as if it was drizzling over your skin wherever his gaze traveled, “I want your first time to be safe. I don’t want you to just hook up with someone and something bad to happen because you can’t say no — with me,” he clenched his hand into a fist holding his other hand flat as he gently hit his fist against it, “you can tell me to stop and if I somehow don’t or don’t hear you, punch me,” 
You snort, “Yuji,” he’s shaking his head. 
“I’m serious, I want you to be safe,” and you’re fidgeting with your fingers in your lap — this was Yuji, Yuji — you couldn’t say you hadn’t noticed how well he had grown up. Not when all of your friends drooled over him — especially with how liked he was — by everyone. 
“What if I lose you?” And he chuckles, as he breaches your personal space and his hand brushes yours. 
“You won’t, ever. I promise,” and your breath catches — many millions of times had Yuji touched you throughout your lives — an arm over over your shoulder, a hug, even holding your hand through crowds during festivals — but a simple brush of his fingers against yours had your heart rattling against its bony enclosure, begging for you to let it out, “what do ya think?” 
And you’re thinking — this would be the best outcome — you weren’t one to hook up with a stranger and you were burnt out on dead end dating app conversations, and to have your first time with someone close, someone you knew — it would be ideal. 
“Are you sure?” And his lips curl into a soft smile, leaning closer, as his fingers gently brush against your locks. 
“Would I be here like this if I wasn’t?” his breath warms your lips, as his fingers skim your cheek, “is this okay?” 
You nod wordlessly, unable to find the words to even reply — you had never thought of this situation would ever happen — especially like this. You lean against his hand, calloused from his practices, but as gentle as it always was. 
“We can take it as slow as you need,” he murmurs, as he’s even closer now, your eyes fluttering shut, only for his lips to graze your forehead. You pause at the featherlight touch — wondering if it actually happened when your eyes open to find his, “no need to rush, right?” He smiles, as he gets to his feet, “are we still on for tomorrow’s study session?” 
“Of course,” 
He scratches the back of his head, “Good because I still don’t understand math or why I need it, but unfortunately, I still have to pass,” he grabs his bag, “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he offers a smile before he’s gone. 
And you’re left sitting on your bed, the warmth of his touch still on your skin, wondering what the fuck just even happened. 
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“Yuji, you just have to solve for x,” you sigh, explaining the problem for the billionth time, as his pen waves back forth between two fingers, “it’s simple,” 
Your weekly study sessions with Yuji were a constant throughout your life, though more for Yuji than you. Yuji is very intelligent, despite his demeanor in class where it felt as if there was a perpetual question mark over his head — he just learned by seeing and then doing. And the repetition helped you all the same. But you had never felt so conscious sitting next to the boy you called your best friend. 
“Maybe to you, but I don’t why math has to involve letters,” he wrinkled his nose at the problem, sighing, as he twists the pen around his hand, and your eyes catch the movement — you didn’t know how the little boy’s whose hands you used to hold had gotten so big now — calloused from his practices, but so soft against your skin,  “is something interesting about my hands?” 
Your eyes snap up to meet his, cheeks burning as you shake your head, “No, just, uh, impressed that you can twist the pen around your hand like that,” 
“Oh, that?” he’s as unfazed as usual, leaning back a little, “that’s easy. I could show you if you want,” 
“It’s fine,” and you’re trying to focus back on the problem, when you find him still staring, “what is it?” 
“If you wanted to hold my hand, you just had to ask,” his fingers graze yours, with enough time for you to pull away, before his fingers lace with yours, “and we can do more if you want?” 
This was crazy — it was probably a mistake, but — as his touch made your heart flutter, warm rolling in waves that erupted into butterflies in your stomach — why weren’t you pulling away? 
“What does more entail?” and he inches a little closer, his breath warming your lips, “but you still haven’t gotten this problem down, are you just trying to get out of studying?” 
A chuckle on his lips, “Maybe I’m just looking for the right motivation, so how about we make a deal?” He moves over, spreading his legs apart, and pats the floor in front of you — for each question I get right, I get a kiss,”
And why you agreed to this, you really didn’t have words—but now you were sat between his legs, nearly in his lap, as he leaned forward — his chest against your back as his chin brushed your shoulder and his cheek brushed against your own, breath warming your neck — trying to get a better look at the math problem. His arm was wrapped around your side as his pen scratched against the scrap paper, trying to solve the problem. You bit your lip, trying your best not to glance at him, but you spot his wrinkled brow out of the corner of his lip and the tip of his tongue poking ever so slightly out of his mouth— and your lips curled, he still had that habit from when you were kids. 
“There, I think I solved it,” he murmurs, and you have to hold back a shiver at the words rumbled against your ear, “is it right?” 
And god, you could barely think, much less do math, but as you glance over the question and answer — he’s got it right.  
Fuck. 
“It is,” you say softly, “is all you need some motivation? Because I would have just promised I would go to see the next Human Earthworm movie,” 
He chuckles, his lips nearly against your ear, as his hand gently traces your jaw, “I’d like that, but I think i rather have what I was promised, as long as you’re still okay with that,” 
Your breath hitches, as you follow his lead, rough pads still so gentle against your cheek, as your eyes find his, but you don’t find his usual doe eyes — but instead find pools of lust threatening to drag you under. Although from the way your lips part and eyes flutter shut, perhaps he had you underwater for far longer than you even knew. 
His lips graze yours — it’s barely a kiss, a peck maybe — as he does his best to ease you in. You didn’t know lips could be so soft — meeting again and again, stealing logic from your mind and breath from your lungs. 
“Are you okay?” He’s murmuring, not even a breath away from your lips. You’re nearly dizzy, mind reeling from his touch, heart jumping at his thumb rubbing lightly against your cheek. 
“I am, just a little strange to be kissing, much less you,” and his brow knits together, “but not bad at all,” you add, and he chuckles, his fingers grazing your cheek firmer, as he leans in again, “we said one kiss—“ 
“Do you really want to stop now?” he’s murmuring, and your noses bump against each other. 
Your lips find his again and now you can taste the sour candy he had stolen from you, but an overwhelming sweetness overrides it, and your hand brushes against his cheek, the other finding purchase on his chest.
“Is that okay?” You murmur, as you lips part, the two of you catching your breath, your shared pants filling the silence, your cheeks burning as your eyes avert from his, “I don’t know—“ 
“You’re fine, don’t worry about it,” a small chuckle on his lips, fingers cupping your chin to guide your gaze back to his — a subtle heat that makes your insides turn to molasses, sticky and sweet and far too warm, “just do what feels right, ok?” 
And his lips find yours again, gently as he did the first time, but more passion behind it, swallowing your quiet murmur of his name with ease. Your lips move against his just as his did — you try to push aside the thoughts of whether you were doing this right. But the slight brush of his teeth against your bottom lip makes you forget too with a gasp. 
He pulls away with a grin on his lips, “Sorry, couldn’t resist,” and his lips are kissed red, your thumb brushed against his swollen lips, “don’t tempt me more,” 
“You’re the one who started this, shouldn’t you take some responsibility, Yu?” your lips graze his cheek, curling as a rosy flush settles over his cheekbones, “nothing to say?” 
“You’re making it hard for me to hold back,” and he’s burying his face in the side of your neck, making you shiver, as he pulls you even closer, arms around your waist, “I don’t want to rush you,” 
Cute, you think before you even think, and yet the way his face is hidden away in your neck, breath warming your neck makes your body flush, and when have you ever thought of Yuji as cute? And yet you couldn’t remember a time that he made your heart race either. 
His lips press a small kiss to your neck, drawing a yelp from your lips, “Yuji—“ he’s nosing the hollow of your throat, “ah, you’re teasing me,” you whine, and he’s lifting his gaze back to yours, heavy with want, a want that leaves you bereft of any semblance of sense. 
“You started it,” he murmurs, before he finds your lips in another kiss — this time it’s a slow heat, languid as it threatens to burn both of you alive, flames licking at the edges of your reason. And his phone goes off — a reminder for practice that he groans at, “I should go. I have to go run laps,” 
“Now?” And he’s slowly disentangling himself from you, the absence of his touch lingers, the heat ebbing, “don’t you usually practice in the mornings?” You get to your feet slowly as well, handing him his math notebook, and it occurs to you when you spot the puddles outside, “it was too wet,” 
And he nods, scratching the back of his head, as the two of you walk out into your apartment’s living space, “and I forgot my protein shake—“ you head over to the kitchen, opening the refrigerator door and pulling out his shake, and he blinks, “how—“ 
“You did the same thing last week, so I just bought a pack for you,” and his lips curl as he walks over and takes the bottle from your hand, fingers brushing — and even that much alight a flutter of nerves through your body. 
“Thanks,” he grins, and you nod. 
“Of course, I thought it just made sense since you come here every week—” you turn to shut the refrigerator, before turning back, only to find him stepping a bit closer, “Yu—“ 
“I almost forgot, one more lesson,” and he’s leaning close, and your breath catches in your throat, as his lips brush yours, fingers tracing the swell of your cheek, “a kiss goodbye,” and he parts, a brush of his fingers against yours, “I’ll text you later,” and he’s gone in a flash. 
Your left, fingertips touching your lips, a questioning lingering as he left — whether these feelings blooming in your chest were just from the kiss, or something more. 
But you glance at your phone — a text from Yuji: 
Golden Retriever Bestie: thanks for the drink again :)
You lock the screen — but you couldn’t hope for more, right? Not when this was started with the intention of stopping. But why—as you laid back into bed, staring up at your ceiling in the same room the two of you had spent the last two years watching movies or studying in, eyes squeezing shut—
Why did you still want more? 
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When did Yuji Itadori fall in love with you? It would probably be easier for him to list the moments he hadn’t fallen for you — but the earliest he can remember was when he had hurt himself climbing a tree in the schoolyard, falling from the branch he had made it to. You had been watching him the whole time, telling him to come down, and when he fell, you were at his side. His vision was a little blurry but when it cleared, he saw you knelt above him, big tears leaving your eyes. And when he came to, you hugged him tight, before helping him to the nurse’s. You had even insisted on bandaging his cuts, not letting the nurse do so. 
And that’s when he knew — he knew he always wanted to wake to you beside him. 
“You what?” Nobara scoffed at him, as she held up another of her new purchases in front of her while looking in her full length mirror, “so instead of asking her out and confession this pathetic crush—“ 
“Pathetic is kinda harsh, Kugisaki—“ 
“It’s been over a decade — your one sided feelings is now in secondary school — it’s officially pathetic,” she hangs up the new leather jacket she bought in her closet, before turning to Yuji, “so instead of confessing, you asked her to be your friends with benefits—“ 
“That’s not exactly—“ she cuts him off with a look, “ok that’s kind of what I did,” he shakes his head, “she was venting about how she never had her first kiss and words started coming out of my mouth and wouldn’t stop—“ 
“Not the first time that’s happened to you is it?” And Yuji glares at her through the mirror, “what? You came to me instead of Fushiguro because you wanted a pretty girl’s opinion right?” 
“I said girl, nothing about—“ it was her turn to glare at him, “alright, alright — what do I do now? I want to tell her I like her, but if I do, I might seem like a—“ 
“A creep? A weirdo? A pervert?” 
“I was gonna say liar, but those too,” he rubbed a hand down his face, “what do I do?” 
She sighs, tucking a strand of her dyed hair behind her ear, “the only thing to do in situation like this,” 
“Tell the truth?” And she scoffs. 
“No, of course not, just use this time to make her fall for you, but that means you’ll have to use this agreement to your advantage,” she hums, “she said she wanted more experience right?” And Yuji nods, “who says it has to just be making out and sex?” 
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“You want to go on a date? Fuck,” you mutter under your breath as you turn the heat of your burner down, hoping you hadn’t completely burned your omelet now as you flipped it, “I thought this was just supposed to be for the more…physical sides of things,” your cheeks burned. 
God, what the fuck. 
“I mean part of gaining experience is learning how to date, right?” And you’re placing your slightly burned omelet in the plate, as you wipe your hands off with your dishcloth, “we could go to an arcade, maybe catch a movie,” 
“Human Earthworm 4?” And you hear him chuckle over the line, and the sound makes your lips curl — it always felt like an accomplishment making him laugh, but even more so now.  
“We don’t have to—“ 
“I don’t mind,” you cut him off, and you never did — you just loved to tease him, as you always did, “they’ve grown on me,” and you didn’t know there was more room for Yuji to grow on you, you thought his roots had already went far and deep, tangled around every inch of yourself and your mind, even your heart — but now—
“Does 2 PM work? I’ll come by and pick you up from your place,” and you didn’t know where it would go but— 
“Sounds perfect,”  he had found his way into a place you never thought anyone would find themselves in. — and as he hung up, biting your bottom lip—
And it seemed he was here to stay. 
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“You’re such a cheater,” you glared at Yuji as he won for the tenth time at the boxing game — hitting the max score every time, “tell me what the trick is,” 
“You know I’m strong,” Yuji gapes,  holding his arm, “how would I cheat?” And you’re pouting, crossing your arms. 
“You’re cheating by being you,” and Yuji has to bite back his smile — you were being so cute — but he knows saying that will earn him a punch in the shoulder harder than you gave the punching bag on the machine, “now you have to buy me an ice cream,” 
“For?” He raises an eyebrow. 
“For being a cheater,” and he can’t help the chuckle that leaves his lips that earns him a bunch of slaps to his arm, before he’s wrapping that same arm around your waist, your complaints chased away by a gasp, “what—“ 
“I was going to buy you anything you wanted anyway, it is a date after all,” he smiles, and you stammer, but you don’t pull away, “what flavor do you want?” After you tell him, he goes off to the concession to buy you both some ice cream, and when he finds you at a table, he sees you’re not alone. His lips are a tight line, as he finds a guy leaning against the booth you sat in, clearly flirting with you, your back to Yuji so he can’t see your face. 
He finds his way back to you, his hand brushes your shoulder gently, “is everything okay?” He asks you, meeting your gaze without regard for the stranger — and he’s glad he did, because he spots your pursed lips and darting eyes that told him everything he needed to know, “you need something?” He asks the guy, a friendly smile on his lips. 
“Not from you,” the guy scoffs, “I was talking to—“ 
“Well, you’re talking to me now, not my date, so—“ and you’re leaning into Yuji, “you need something or not?” And the guy grumbles something under his breath before slinking away, and Yuji’s sliding in beside you when you move over, “you okay?” 
“Yeah, he wouldn’t leave,” you sigh, shaking your head, “sorry—“ 
“You have nothing to be sorry about,” he murmurs, as he hands you your ice cream, “as long as you’re okay,” his arm slides around your shoulder and squeezes you, “i would’ve punched him if it wouldn’t have ruined our date,” 
You snort, as you lick your ice cream, “if you punched him harder than you did the bag, don’t know if this date would have ended with us going home,” and he pouts, as he laps at his ice cream, and he feels you turn to look at him, “Didn’t know you were the jealous type, Yu,” and he chuckles, he wanted to say — only when it came to you. 
But he knew that he couldn’t. Not like this.  
“I didn’t think I was either.” 
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“Nope, not gonna admit it,” and Yuji’s grinning still, as the two of you walk out of the theater, his arm still around your shoulder, “no it wasn’t that good,” 
If there was one thing about Yuji is that movies were literally his obsession — one movie marathon when the two of you were teens had turned him into a fanatic. And he often ended up dragging you to all of them he saw in theaters — and you probably had watched the Human Earthworm movies the most amount of times anyone ever has — aside from Yuji. Well, more like you watched him watch it, because while he was smiling and laughing (or crying) at the movie, you were looking at him. 
And right now, he looked far too smug, “So you admit that it was good,” and you cross your arms, shaking your head, “I saw you tearing up at the end — I told you, it’s all about love!” 
You purse your lips, if only to hold back your smile, before sighing, “How would no one tear up at that ending?” And his hand’s grabbing yours, tugging at your arm, as the two of you walk along, “Yu—“ 
“I knew you liked it! C’mon, I knew you would, now what was your favorite part?” And your lips curl into a smile, “what?” 
That was one of the things you loved the most about Yuji, how excited he could get — how he loved everything so wholeheartedly with no reservations, and you knew he was the one person you could always count on to cheer you up. 
“Nothing, nothing,” you chuckle, letting your fingers lace with his, “my favorite part?” And you want to say — watching him enjoy the movie. 
But you can’t. 
“Probably the ending,” you slowly smile, “liked it when the credits rolled,” and he’s mock glaring, as you laugh before his arm tightening around your waist, “Yu-ji—“ 
“Not going to be honest?” He murmurs, before kissing your chin, “then maybe I’ll make you.” 
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“Yu—ngh, please,” Yuji could get addicted to your taste, it was never enough, was it? His lips had spent the last twenty minutes kissing every inch of your face and neck, traversing over every nook and cranny as he always wanted to — and yet it was never enough. Any time spent with you was never enough —because you always made anything better, and nothing ever worse. 
And he knew no one else would ever feel this good. 
How many times had he imagined just this scenario? Of you in his bedroom with him alone, as you had been many times before, but never like this. You never looked at him like that before — with that shyness mixed with an undercurrent of want. And it was enough to rip him away and drag him under with you. 
“Please what, baby?” Yuji looks up with a wry smile and soft eyes that burn a path where as it raked down your body like coals across a fire, “want me to stop?” And he’s dragging a thumb down your untouched lips. 
You cover your face with the back of your hand, and he’s gently tugging it away, pressing a kiss to your wrist, your pulse jumping underneath, “I want more,” and fuck if he wasn’t at full mast from the kissing, he was now at your words, “I want you to…kiss me and…touch me,” you mumble, eyes averted, but he’s smiling all the same — you were so cute. 
“Where can I touch?” he asks softly, his nose brushing yours, “need you to tell me. I don’t want to rush—“ 
And your lips crash against his, your fingers finding the back of his neck, threading in his pink locks. He’s pausing a moment before he melts into your kiss, and you’re taking the lead, as you lean further into the kiss, your fingers sliding down from his shoulder to his chest. His tongue flicks against the seam of your lips and you part for him. 
“I want you to touch me,” you murmur as you break the kiss, panting, strings of your spit still connecting your lips, your breathy words nearly enough for him to lose all control, “I’ll tell you if I don’t like it,” 
And he’s more than happy to oblige, his lips find yours in a bruising kiss, his hand toys with the hem of your shirt as permission, and you part from the kiss to nod. His hand slides up your soft flesh, pushing up your shirt along with it — finding your lacy bra underneath. He’s tugging the shirt up and over your head with your help, and god—
He has to stop himself from cumming right then and there at the sight of you. His fingers reach out, toying with the strap of your bra, “Did you wear this for me?” And you biting your bottom lip was all the answer he needed. 
“Yu—“ he’s tweaking your hardened bud through the fabric, “ah, fuck—“ and he leans down to suck the other side through your bra, while sliding down your bra strap. 
“Need to taste you,” and you’re nodding, while he’s reaching around to brush against the clasp of your bra to undo it, and his cock twitches at the sight of your bare skin — you’re so fucking pretty. 
He always thought you were pretty — when you were kids drenched from running around in the rain, when you were just waking up from a nap with your hair askew and dried drool in the corner of your mouth, when your eyes were wide with excitement and nearly jumping up and down to tell him good news; and when you’re smiling—especially when you’re smiling. 
It was his favorite thing. 
“Don’t stare so much,” you’re trying cover yourself, but his hands catch yours, easing them off, “It’s embarrassing—“ 
“You’re perfect,” and your lips part but no words come, but you can’t meet his gaze, “you are—“ 
“You’re just saying that—“ and his fingers pinch your nipple drawing a gasp from your lips, while he leans down and takes the other in his mouth. His eyes find yours, blown into deep, dark pools by his lust — ones you’d be more than willing to drown in. 
“I’d never just say that, especially to you, baby,” and you’re about to make a smart remark about him calling you ‘baby.’ But you forget every word you ever learned when his fingers start to drag down your stomach, fingers playing with the button of your jeans, “can I?” 
And you nod, your back arching ever so slightly as his lips press a sweet kiss to your bellybutton. He’s kissing down your soft legs as he tugs down your jeans — one to your thigh, another to your knee, and another to your ankle —before he’s kissing up the other. 
“How’s that feel?” he murmurs, eyes flitting up to meet yours, and fuck, your lips parted and swollen a pretty red, eyes half lidded with want, and — as his eyes fall between your thighs — a growing wet spot on your panties. 
His fingers toy with the elastic, snapping it lightly against your skin, a slight flinch only, as his eyes gaze at your clothed cunt with near reverence. He looks for permission, before he leans in to press a kiss to your swollen clit, a small yelp escaping your mouth. 
“Yuji,” you whine, lifting your head to meet his gaze again, “please,” 
“Say my name again, please,” he’s kissing your thigh gently, and it feels as if you’ll crumble under his touch any second, wither away in a figment of his imagination, and he won’t ever get the chance to hear you like this again, much less touch you. He was selfish to take advantage like this — and he knew he was — but he couldn’t leave it like this.
“Yuji, just touch me—“ and your head falls back as his fingers graze your clit through your nearly translucent underwear, “ngh, you fucker—“ and he’s chuckling, as he tugs your panties away. 
“Wanted to keep them on since you looked so good, but,” and he’s pocketing them with a grin, “I’ll just keep them instead,” your dripping walls twitch at the thought, “s’good for me. What do you want, my fingers or my tongue?” 
“Fuck, I don’t know, just touch—“ and your head lolls against the pillow as his tongue drags up flat up the length of your weeping pussy. 
“You’re so sweet — I could live here,” he murmurs, as his fingers spread your slick folds, a pretty moan falling from your lips as he does, “can’t wait to feel you cum around my fingers,” he’s easing a finger in — and you’re so tight, you’re tensing as he tries to part your walls, “relax, ok? I’ll be gentle. Don’t worry. I won’t ever hurt you,” his eyes meet yours and you’re nodding, as he pulls his finger away, a shiver at the empty ache, but it falls away into another moan as his tongue replaces it. 
The wet squelch of your folds is enough for him to cum right there — you smell as sweet as you taste, as he kisses your clit, before dragging the length of his tongue over your sopping slit again, “Yuji—fuck—“ your fingers find purchase in his pink locks right when he decides to sink a finger inside you again. 
“That’s it,” he grunts, as he works his finger knuckle deep into you, “so good f’me, so tight,” he’s murmuring, and your syrupy walls wrapped around his finger makes him wonder how good it will feel when his cock is inside you. He’s palming his erection through his pants, desperate for any kind of fucking friction, “g’nna add another,” 
And you’re nodding, “please, I—“ and a second finger joins the first, and the lewd noises grow louder from your slick and his fingers begin to pump faster — teasing and stretching your walls as they begin to flutter around you, “Yuji, Yuji—“ his name leaves your lips like a prayer, but he’s the one who would worship at your feet, if you’d let him, your moans and whimpers were all he needed to survive, and he’d give his very soul if it meant he could be at your side. 
His fingers are fucking you open, the tips of his fingers brushing against the spot that his your mouth falling open in a silent moan, “that’s it, cum for me, pretty girl,” and pleasure rips up your spine, as you cum all over his fingers, thighs shaking as you do. He fucks you slowly through your orgasm, helping you ride it out, until he’s slowing, leaning up to prsss sweet kisses to your face. 
“I’m going to pull them out slowly,” he murmurs, your eyes still fluttered shut, but they slowly open to watch him ease his fingers from you. Soft pants leave your lips as you watch him with lidded eyes lick his fingers sticky with your release clean. 
“Are you okay?” He’s murmuring, as he moves up to lean over your face, and you’re nodding, “let me clean you up and we can sleep, ok?” he’s moving to get off the bed, but you grab his hand, and he tilts his head. 
“What about you?” You mumble, frowning, eyes flickering to the tent in his pants with a shy gaze, “I want to—“ 
“It’s okay, let’s just take it easy today,” he’s smiling, fingers finding yours and squeezing, pressing his lips to your knuckles, “you look like you’re about to pass out,” and you’re pouting all the same, but you seem to relent as the exhaustion sets in once again at your words, “I’ll be right back,” and he retreats to his bathroom to wet a washcloth, only to come back to you fast asleep. 
He chuckles at the sight of you sprawled out on his bed — a sight not uncommon to him on nights you spent over, but never like this before. He leans on the bed carefully, mattress creaking ever so slightly under his weight, as he begins to clean you gently — and luckily, you don’t wake by the time he’s done. He can’t put your jeans or underwear on so he opts to grab a pair of his freshly washed shorts and slides them on you. He adjusts the blanket, draping it over you, running his fingers through your hair to tuck it behind your ear, and the back of his knuckles over your cheek. 
“Yuji,” you mumble in your sleep, and he bites his lip — as he returns to his bathroom, softly shutting the bedroom door and the bathroom door behind him, a glaring problem to deal with, as he is still nearly waddling at this point from the grazing of his boxers against his aching erection. 
He undoes his jeans quickly, eyes fluttering as he pushes both down and strips his shirt off before slipping into the shower. The squeak of the shower faucet and the water running hopefully don’t wake you — but more importantly, he hopes his moans don’t.  
His dick was rock hard and aching still — there were so many times he nearly came in his pants, and by how drenched his boxers were — maybe he had. But fuck, you were so gorgeous, laid back and spread out for him. 
His fingers grazed his weeping cock, smearing the precum up and down his length, thumb tracing his slit, as you would. He could see you thumbing his head experimentally, as your eyes flickered up at him, doe eyes, yet glazed over with lust. It wouldn’t be long until you’re slowly pumping him, as he does now — from base to tip, teasing his balls all the same. You’d flick your tongue over the tip, sucking at the dripping precum — wrinkle your nose at the salty taste, but you’d suck at his tip all the same. 
He’d look down at you as your hand switches to toying with his balls, as you let his cock slap against your tongue, before letting his length slip past your lips. Your lips would feel so much softer than his hand does right now, jerking himself off, your plush lips and tongue wrapped around his dick. A low groan escapes his lips, as he covers his mouth, hoping you couldn’t hear him over the running water. The squelch of his precum and his soft moans would only make him want to repay the favor, making you cum over and over, until you were begging him to stop. 
Fuck, he was close, by the way his cock twitched in his hand — where would he cum with you? He’d cum anywhere you wanted — but to cum on your face or chest, the image made him shudder. Your tongue would flick out to clean up some of the cum, and—
Fuck, he moans your name, as he cums all over his fingers, his release sprayed against the tile of his shower, dripping down and mixing with the water. He’s panting, as he cleans his hand off in the shower, leaning his head back. 
What has he gotten himself into? Was it right for him to do this? You didn’t know how he felt — and he didn’t know if you would ever feel the same. But as he got dressed and crawled into bed beside you, keeping his distance as you slept, he felt you move closer, mumbling his name as you did. He couldn’t help but softly smile, running his fingers through his hair—it didn’t matter if you never ended up loving him, as long as you knew what you deserved—to be with someone who loved you, as much or even more than he did. 
He let himself drift off, a loose arm thrown over your middle—he’d let himself have this, if only for now. 
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“Oh come on, you couldn’t get the ad free version, Fushiguro?” Nobara complains as yet another commercial comes on, as she glares at the black haired vet student, who sat on the floor after she stole his armchair. 
He only shrugs, bearing little to no reaction, “If you’re going to complain, then why don’t you pay for it?” 
Nobara and him begin to bicker ever so slightly, and Yuji chuckles in your ear, “are they more fun to watch then the show?” 
The four of you were at your apartment, watching a new season of a TV show you all had started last year. You were sat next to Yuji on the couch, your bodies nearly pressed against each other as you shared the blanket, a little cold from the rain outside. 
“They’re always more entertaining than the show, that’s why we agree to this,” you whisper back, the proximity of your bodies making your cheeks burn. You turn away, hoping he can’t feel or even hear the way your heart was beating down your ribs to burst free. Every time he shifted even slightly, you felt your body react — so conscious of even a twitch of his fingers — you wanted to bury yourself under the blanket. 
It had been like this since that night. 
You had woken up to him asleep beside you. Your eyes fluttered open as consciousness slowly crept into focus, sunlight filtering into sight, a small groan leaving your lips. And it wasn’t until you tried to reach for your phone you realized the thing beside you wasn’t a pillow but a person.  
Your eyes flew open and you found Yuji still sound asleep beside you. It wasn’t unusual for the two of you to sleep on the same bed — especially after a late night where one or the other didn’t want to go home — but it was different to wake up entangled with him, especially after the events of the night before came flooding back. 
And after that, each time you had been around him, you had become more and more conscious of his touch, nervous even, at the simplest of brushes of his fingers. And this? His body pressed against yours, his fingers grazing your thigh nearly, and his soft breath against your ear — god, you were going to lose it. 
“You ok?” he murmurs a half an hour later, and the question itself makes you squirm — because no, your hot best friend was pressed against you and making you want to do nothing more than kiss him— 
Wait, wait, hot? Your mind stutters at your own thoughts, lagging to comprehend yourself — hot? You wanted to kiss him? You always knew Yuji was hot, he was objectively — especially based on how many of your friends had wanted you to hook them up with him — but you had never thought of him that way. Maybe in passing — but to you, that was the one line you could never cross, especially when you had seen so many friendships fall apart because of a relationship. 
You never wanted to risk Yuji like that. 
But then here you were — blurring that line you said you never cross — and letting the ground split underneath the two of you. 
“I’m fine,” you mumble back — and yet here he was, seemingly unfazed by your proximity and as the minutes ticked by, it began to eat away at you. Did he not find it as meaningful as you did? Did he not feel as good as you? Do you need to touch him just to make him feel just as heartsick as you were? 
And now you know what you wanted to do. 
As the show went on, Nobara and Fushiguro fell asleep — Fushiguro asleep with a cushion he had stolen from Nobara’s armchair and Nobara curled up in said armchair, passed out. 
“Should we stop the show and go to bed?” Yuji asks you, albeit innocently — but there was anything but innocent intentions in your mind when you shake your head, a smile on your lips. 
“Let’s keep watching,” your fingers grazes his thigh, as you lean over, lips nearly brushing against his ear, “it’s just getting interesting, right?” 
And his breath hitches, “what’re you—“ and your fingers inches higher, grazing over his already tenting erection, a hiss escapes his lips, as he’s covering his mouth. 
“Shh, don’t wake them,” and your fingers are ghosting and teasing over his cock, the precum already starting to seep through the fabric, as he shifts under your touch. Your thumb flicks over his head, now fully hard, “so big already,” you mumble, and now your lips press sweet kisses to his neck, finding small cuts and bruises from his practices, and a gasp escaped his lips. 
“We shouldn’t be doing this—“ and your lips find his, and he melts so easily into your touch, your fingers toy with the elastic of his shorts, his eyes flickering to the two sleeping. He’s pulling away for a breath, lips utterly ruined — his fingers running through his hair, “please—“ and your lips curl. 
Your fingers finally brush against his leaking cock, and his head falls back, his cheeks flushed a pretty pink, lips parted as soft pants left his lips. And you’re nearly shivering yourself at his want — seeping into your own body, as his pants and moans send a wave of heat between your thighs. 
You rub your thighs together, as you shift even closer somehow, “Gotta be quiet Yu — they can hear us after all,” you murmur, right as your thumb swipes over his slit, a yelp caught in his throat, as his hand flies back to lips, “good boy,” and his dick twitches at the praise, as your finger begins to trace along his veins, “so big, how am I going to fit you inside?” you murmur, biting back a smirk when a muffled groan reaches your ears. 
Your fingers finally curl around his length, you never thought a cock to be pretty — but Yuji’s was. You stared at it under the covers, flushed a lovely red, too dripping pearly beads of precum, and the slight curve it had to it — made the ache in your cunt only grow. 
“Please, baby, I need, please—“ he’s whining, “I need you—“ 
And you oblige him, your hand beginning to spread the pre along his length, beginning to stroke him slowly from base to tip. He’s biting his lip, hard, nearly drawing blood as he chooses to bury his face in the crook of your neck, if only to muffle any moans that fell from his lips. 
“S’good for me, Yu, wanna make you feel as good as I did,” his moan vibrates against your skin, cock twitching in your fingers, “gonna move faster, don’t want our friends to see you like this, do you? You have to be quiet,” and god, why did only seem to get harder at your words? 
Your fingers begin to jerk him off in earnest, the wet squelch of his cock nearly not hidden enough by the volume of the TV, but nearly don’t care at this point — you just want him to fall apart under your touch, need him to. 
And oh, he’s so close. His groans are more frequent, his hips jerking against your fist, and when your other hand finds his balls, squeezing — it’s too much. 
He moans softly, “I’m—“ and that’s all he manages before he spills on your fingers — warm, white spurts splatter against your palm and the blanket, dripping, as he falls back, limp against the sofa. His cock softened in your hand, as you pull it away, before gently wiping him clean with the already drenched blanket. 
He’s panting and fucked out, eyes half lidded as his chest rises and falls, watching you lick your fingers clear of his release, gaze never leaving his. 
“Didn’t know you’d taste this good—“ you barely can manage, before he’s leaning forward to kiss you. Your fingers slide against his cheek to cup it, feeling his hand tangle itself in your hair, “Yuji—“ 
“What was that about?” he murmurs, “not that I’m complaining but—“ but then Megumi starts to move and you both freeze, your breath catching, until Megumi seemingly falls back asleep, “we should head to bed, but—“ 
He looks at the blanket, and the mess you made of him and the couch alike. 
“The blanket I’ll toss in the washer, the cushion I’ll clean up and just turn over—“ and you smile, “and you take a shower before bed,” 
His brow still knits together, “but we haven’t—“ 
“We’ll talk later,” and when later came, Yuji found you fast asleep in bed, with more questions than answers. But he supposed, as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his answers could come later. 
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How long has it been? 
You stared at your phone — as if you could will it to receive the message you’ve been waiting for. As if it would grant your one and only wish for a text or a call — but it didn’t. Instead, it only gave you a spam call and a text to let you know you had a discount code for your favorite takeout place. 
Great. 
It had been a week since you had heard from Yuji — and a week since that night. You had woken up to the other three gone — gone off to their own apartments after you had slept in and texts on your phone from them in the groupchat. It was a few days before break — before you and Yuji would be heading back home for a few days together. But you hadn’t seen him at all since — not a chance to talk, much less seeing him. 
Was he upset? Was he done with this? Was his promise to stay empty in the end? Was it your fault — for pushing it, for agreeing to it, and for falling for it all the same? Falling for it or — your eyes trace the screen of your phone as if it’s his cheek — or falling for him. 
No, you rake your fingers through your hair, no, you didn’t love him — not like that. Not the way you shouldn’t, the way you had sworn yourself never to — but maybe all promises between friends were empty, when they were made like this. 
But you weren’t made to let this break apart. 
You found yourself at his door after classes, knocking at his door of his apartment. The door opens, and you find Yuji rubbing his eyes, hair askew, and shoulders drooped. 
“Hey,” he yawned, he’s still shaking off the shackles of sleep, “sorry, what’s up?” 
“Are you okay?” Your furrow your brow, your eyes spot the dark bags under his eyes, large enough to nearly engulf his eyes all together, “you look like you haven’t slept in days,” he steps aside to let you in, you glance around, his apartment wasn’t usually the cleanest — but it wasn’t a wreck like it was now. Clothes scattered, unwashed dishes stacked up, and papers strewn about. 
“I just haven’t…been sleeping—“ and then you remember. 
It wasn’t about you. It was about him. And you were so wrapped up in yourself, you weren’t thinking about him. 
“Yuji, you’re having those nightmares again, aren’t you?” You murmur softly, and the way his gaze falls to the ground tells you everything you need to know, “alright, go lay down,” 
“What?” he’s blinking, but your hand already finds his as you take him to his bedroom, “what are you—“ 
“You lay down. I’m going to make you dinner, and then you’re going to sleep,” and he sits on the bed reluctantly, fingers against his knees, as he bit his lip. 
“I can’t sleep, I told you—“ you cup his cheek, and guide his gaze to yours. 
“Remember what we’d do when you couldn’t sleep after the accident?” 
“This feels ridiculous,” Yuji murmurs into your chest, his head buried there, while your fingers run softly through his pink locks, “we’re not six anymore—“ 
“So what? Doesn’t mean we can’t do this still,” you say, as your fingers pause, “unless you don’t want me to,” 
“I didn’t say that,” he mumbles, and you can hear the blush in his voice that undoubtedly painted his cheeks, “I just meant it feels like I’m bothering—“ 
“Yu, don’t make me pinch you,” you murmur, rubbing his head, “you’re never a bother,” you kiss his head softly without thinking, and soon your cheeks are burning too, “sorry I didn’t—“ 
“Why are you sorry?” He chuckles, “we’ve done a lot more than kiss recently,” and he adds, “especially you,” 
You bite your lip, glad he couldn’t see your face like this, “I thought that’s why you weren’t talking to me, I thought you didn’t like what I did…on the couch, you know—“ 
“I know,” he chuckles this time, “and how could I not like that?” And you swallow the lump in your throat, as the two of you fall into a comfortable silence that you choose to breach. 
“You haven’t had these nightmares in a while,” you murmur quietly, before you add, “we don’t have to talk—“ 
“I know, but it happens from time to time, especially this month,” and your brow furrows, “don’t wrinkle your forehead at me,” and you lean back to gape at him, a smile pulling at his lips, “you always do that when you find out I’m keeping something from you,” 
He moves ever so slightly away, turning to look at the ceiling, “Well I think I have a right because this is a pretty big thing to keep from me, Yu,” you pout, and your fingers begin to absentmindedly trace his jaw, his eyes fluttering shut — you always treated him so gently, like that something that could shatter, but he knew you would always be there to put him back together. Because you did that once already. Over a decade ago, “why didn’t you tell me?” 
Because he didn’t want to worry you. Because he didn’t want you to think of him still as that broken kid you watched after when he had his world fall apart. 
Because he didn’t want you to take that burden — he wanted to handle it himself. 
“I didn’t want to bother you—“ 
“It’s never a bother when it’s you,” and his voice catches in his throat — fuck, how did you always know just what to say? 
He takes a breath, “it’s just the same dream. Of the crash,” he could see something so clearly that he never experienced. He was at home with you when the crash happened — a play date Yuji had insisted on when he had cried and begged his parents to stay with you instead of going to dinner with them. They had relented — and that was the thing that left him alone. 
It was lucky that his grandfather was able to take him in, and stay close by — so he still got to go to school with you. 
“Let’s try to sleep, ok?” You murmur, “you’ll feel better when you sleep,” you cup his cheek, and he’s biting his lip, “what is it?” 
“What if I see it again?” He whispers, as if he’s afraid that his words were any louder he would speak it into existence. 
“Come here,” you say softly, your fingers gently guide his head to face you,  “I’ll keep you safe, I promise,” A sigh leaves his lips as he moves closer, letting you engulf him in your arms, his eyes shutting, and letting himself relax for a moment — the first moment in far too many days. 
When he let himself slip into sleep’s embrace—it was the first night he didn’t dream of the crash — he dreamt of you.  
And when he woke in your arms in the morning, your soft lips parted as you slept, sunlight dappled on your skin through his window, and the way your fingers held onto the fabric of his shirt — he knew, he knew he had to tell you how he felt. 
He needed to end this — his fingers brushing a strand of hair behind your ear — if only to begin something new. 
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You had to end it — it hadn’t sunk in until the car drove back home. The quiet morning drive left you both in a comfortable silence, the quiet white noise of his playlist, along with Yuji’s terrible singalongs and your bickering over his music choice. And you found yourself more than once staring at him as he drove, to the point where he had caught you looking. 
“What?” He tilts his head when the light turned red, fingers drumming on the steering, the other poking your side. 
“Nothing,” and you’re playfully slapping his hand away, a smile on your lips — same smile you always had with him. Always—because he’s your best friend. But he was so much more than that. 
You were in love. 
The two of you had returned to the place where you had laid your roots to rest and let your seed scatter to the wind. Only to return as a different flower altogether — but you knew, you couldn’t let it go on. 
It had become painfully clear that morning, you had woken first, the sun had not peaked over the horizon yet, and you found Yuji fast asleep — breaths even and face relaxed. You knew his parents had scarred him deeply — he spoke of them often, but not at all at — he mentioned their presence, but never his own feelings. You knew he had a habit of putting others above himself — but you had missed this — all of this week, you could have been there for him, but you were caught up in your own thoughts and you had made it all about yourself. 
And he deserved more than that. 
He deserved more than you. 
And you couldn’t risk losing him — lose him in a stupid argument or a disagreement and then never be able to comfort him again? Never be able to be by his side? You couldn’t bear to even fathom that. 
“Nanamin was asking about you,” Yuji says as the two of you walk home from the local convenience store — a late night run that produced a familiar bag of treats the two of you always shared when you came back home. 
“Oh really? Are classes over for high school already?” The English literature teacher had taken Yuji in for his last year and half of high school after his grandfather passed, and Yuji always stayed with him on breaks. 
“He asked if you were going to come with us to see my parents tomorrow morning,” it was a tradition to go visit Yuji’s parents graves each year around this time — you always paid your respects whenever you could, “he also said you’re free to stay over, but you have to sleep in a different bedroom,” you snort, “he said and I quote ‘we are past the age of sharing a room,’” You laugh, cheeks burning as you shake your head, “he’s not exactly wrong though,” his fingers graze yours, and there’s nothing more you want than to take his hand, but you know one way or another, you’d drop it in the end. Wouldn’t it be better now? When there isn’t far to fall? 
So you do, letting your hand fall away from his. 
“I’d be happy to see your parents, but I don’t know if staying over is a good idea—“ and he’s shaking his head with a chuckle in his throat. 
“Don’t worry, I won’t do anything you don’t want to—“ 
“We should stop, Yuji,” and his smile slips off his face as if it was slapped off, he blinks, shock settling into confusion. 
“Why?” Only one word and it manages to break you all the same. 
“We just shouldn’t. This was supposed to be about teaching me, but i think I’ve learned enough,” you’re turning away, but his fingers are gently finding your wrist, “Yuji—“ 
“You don’t think I can’t tell when you’re lying?” Yuji asks, and your glass-like facade shatters so easily — why does it always have to break so readily when it comes to him? 
But you pull away all the same, “I can’t do this anymore. Not like this. I don’t want to. I can’t lose you—“ 
“You won’t lose me—“ but you’re already walking off, sparing a glance back. 
“I’ll see you tomorrow morning when we leave, Yuji,” and he’s opening his mouth to call out, but he stops himself, watching you disappear up the street. 
What just happened? 
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The car ride to the cemetery is notably silent. Yuji’s eyes burned when he woke, head aching from the circles he ran around in last night, trying to figure out what happened. Nanami drives in the quiet, his eyes noting when Yuji chooses to sit passenger instead of beside you, only with one glance that’s averted after Yuji refuses to meet it. 
Yuji didn’t know what to make of what you said. After everything, he thought maybe — just maybe, you felt the same as he did. He thought he could tell you tomorrow, tell you when the two of you were alone — and even if it didn’t work out, it would be okay. 
But now — as his eyes stole a look at you in the rear view mirror, he wondered if it ever would be okay again. 
You left the car a moment to go use the bathroom when they stopped to fill gas in the car, and that’s when Nanami speaks. 
“So did you finally ask her out and she said no?” And Yuji’s head snaps to his, but Nanami only stares back, “you aren’t hard to read, Itadori. You’ve liked her for a long time,” 
Yuji scratches the back of his head, “I did something, kinda stupid,” and Nanami tilts his head, “really stupid, ok? And I was going to tell her how I felt, but she broke off what we were doing—“ 
“You weren’t dating?” Yuji’s cheeks burn as he waves off his teacher. 
“That’s not important! But what do I do, Nanamin?” the blond haired teacher raised an eyebrow. 
“It’s not hard to know what to do, Itadori. It’s what you should have done. Tell her how you feel,” and then you’re walking back to the car, “come on, let’s get back. We’re close now.” 
And your gaze avoids his own when Yuji watches you get back in the car, and his lips part as if to stop you — but he doesn’t. 
Not yet. 
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You stood with Yuji as he tended to his parents’ graves. Simple stones that he was able to put in with time from his part time jobs, ones he had insisted he would pay for himself — refusing any help from anyone, even you. You knelt down, helping him clear the strewn dead leaves, brushing away dirt and snow — your fingers brushing when you both reach for the same place. 
And your eyes meet, as both of your fingers intertwine slowly — the three of you pay your respects, and Nanami finally stands. 
“I’ll wait for you two at the car,” Nanami says with a nod, leaving the two of you alone. You both already had placed offerings at their graves, arranging them slowly, as the two of you stand, the silence of the cemetery hanging overhead — light streaming in between clouds in the overcast sky, the sounds of the wind rustling the trees the only thing in the quiet. 
“Thank you for coming,” Yuji says softly, and your blink, eyes sliding to his. 
“You never have to thank me for that, Yuji,” you squeeze his hand, “as long as you want me to come, I’ll always be here. And I’ll always pay my respects to your parents, regardless of that,” you say, and that's exactly why you had to stop with him. You couldn’t bear to lose him — lose this, not when he’s lost too much and he was too much for you to lose, “come on, we should get back to the car,” as you pull your hand away from his. 
And maybe things could get back to normal. 
“I know,” and he doesn’t move as you turn to leave, “and that’s why I love you,” 
And you smile, “I love you too—“ 
“I don’t mean it like that,” and you freeze a moment, his words barely processing before he continues to speak, “I mean I do love you in that way too — but that’s not how I meant it now,” he says, as you turn to face him — not finding a hint of humor on his expression. 
“Yuji—“ your brain can barely process your best friend confessing to you — much less next to his parents’ graves— “should we be having this conversation—“ 
“It’s the perfect place to have this conversation,” he glances around at all of the graves, and he’s shaking his head, “maybe not the perfect place, but—“ his gaze softens when he finds yours, “you saved me,” 
“Yuji—“ 
“No, you did. After my parents died,” he stares at the stones side by side — “I could barely function. I barely wanted to do anything but sleep — but you, you pulled me out of bed. You made me go places. You made me smile again,” he says, “but that’s not the reason I fell in love with you,” his lips curl into a soft smile, “it’s because it’s you — your smile, your laugh, your being — it reminded me of happiness existed, and then I realized you were the only person who could make me happy the way you do,” 
“Yuji—“ 
“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same. But I don’t want to lose you, lose this chance to tell you how I feel, to tell you—“ 
“Yuji—“ 
“And I’ve always loved you — there’s never been—“ and you’re hugging him, before you even know you are, your arms are around his middle, face buried in his chest, as he murmurs your name. 
“The only reason I broke it off was,” your voice wavers despite your efforts to force it to stay even, “I didn’t to lose you by not being good enough—“ 
“You just have to be you,” his brow furrowed into the same valleys he teased you for, “you’re all I need,” his hand finds your cheek, guiding your gaze to his, “how could you think you weren’t enough?”
“You don’t tell how you feel sometimes — you don’t tell me what you’re thinking, I didn’t even know you had nightmares—“ you break off, “what if we continued this and you realized you deserved better than me? And it was already too late for me because I love—“ you break off. 
“You what?” he asks, and you’re biting your lip, “I’ll say it again if it will make you—“ 
Fuck it. 
You lean up and press your lips to his, swallowing his words as your hand finds purchase on his shoulder. And it felt right. As it always did with Yuji. 
“I love you too,” you whisper against his lips, “I love you, in the same way you do,” 
“As a friend?” And your brow furrows, “kidding! Kidding—ow!” You’re smacking him playfully, before he catches both of your wrists and pulls you close, “does that mean I can call you mine?” 
“Or baby,” and he flushes, a cute pout on his lips, “what? Isn’t it—“ and he’s kissing you again, your heart leaping as he does, his hands sliding around your hips, “Yu-“ 
“And what’s my pet name? You still haven’t given me one—“ 
“Have some decorum,” a voice cuts through, and the two of you jump apart, as Nanami stands, glaring at the two of you, “come on, if you’re done paying your respects, then we should go home,” he sighs, rubbing his temples, “the dead shouldn’t have to put up with this.” 
Yuji’s cheeks are tomato red at this point — as he covers his face— but you only chuckle, your fingers intertwining with his, squeezing, “c’mon let’s go, and maybe I can give you a pet name when we get home,” and you both turn to face his parents, as you pay your respects and head down the path a little. 
Yuji faces his parents, kneeling down to say goodbye again — and he remembers how it was their idea to set up Yuji to have a playdate with you, all those years ago. And now, here you were — the most important person in his life. 
“Thank you for everything you did for me,” and he glances at you over his shoulder as he gets up, “especially for helping me find her.” 
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“Yu-ji—“ you gasp, as he’s tugging you into your bedroom, bumping himself carelessly into the wall as he guides you both to your bedroom. You giggle as he presses you against the wall outside your room, “I text you my parents are going out for dinner and this is how you greet me? What happened to hello—“ 
His lips crash against yours and you forget about ‘hello’ and just about every other word in your head. Your lips curl against his lips, as his body cages you against the wall. It had been a few days since you and Yuji had been able to have a moment alone—Nanami was watching you both cautiously, while your parents had been keeping you busy at home, seeing family or cleaning up around the house. And Yuji was growing increasingly desperate for some time with you — that wasn’t hidden brushes of fingers under the table or stolen kisses out of sight from family or friends. 
“I missed you so much, baby,” he’s murmuring — and you didn’t know it was so possible to look like a kicked puppy so much until you met Yuji, “can’t believe Nanami was so mean and kept making us keep the door open—“ 
“It didn’t help that he walked in us making out on your bed three times—“ and a moan escapes your lips as he kisses your neck, teeth grazing against your racing pulse, “fuck, Yu—“ 
“How do you always taste so good?” he mumbles against you as he leads you inside your bedroom and shuts the door. His eyes glance around your childhood room, as he takes in the childhood posters plastered on the walls, the untouched books, the stuffed animals from a millennium ago that still lined your bed. 
“My family has not changed much here for years,” your cheeks burn, as he only chuckles, walking you backwards into your bed, and you climb into the bed, only grabbing a stuffed animal from behind you, “remember this?” 
He snorts, as he takes the stuffed penguin from your hands, “How could I forget? I tried a million times to win this,” 
You tilt your head, “You said you won it your first try—“ and you gasp as he looks away, cheeks flushed, “you were trying to impress me,” 
“Not that much,” and you’re leaning closer, brushing your lips against his, “maybe just a little,” you kiss him more insistently this time, sliding against his, fingers curling in his soft strands, “maybe too much,” and you smirk, noses bumping as your lips find each other’s again and again. 
And your fingers slide down to drag his shirt up and over, freeing his chest and abs to your sight — and what a sight it is. So toned and tanned from his American football practices in the sun — perfect for your fingers and lips to explore the peaks and valleys of his body, hands already far too eager.
He returns the favor by lifting your own shirt off in an instant, groaning when he finds you wearing nothing underneath — your eyes can’t help but flit down and find his erection already tenting in his sweatpants. 
“Fuck, baby, you’re so perfect,” his eager hands are already teasing and palming you breasts, a whimper drawn out by his precise pinches and touches, “so good for me,” and your hands drag down his chest, leaning down to press kisses to his chest as your fingers trace along his abs, making him groan. 
He’s pouting, after he pulls you into another kiss, “it’s not fair,” he mumbles into the side of your neck, “I feel like I’m always the one who’s more nervous than you are,” 
You chuckle, kissing his jaw, “I felt the same way, why do you think I touched you on our TV marathon that night?” 
And he’s blinking, as you lay back on the bed for him, “you didn’t know—“ you shake your head. 
“You had offered to help get experience, and even when we had done things, you were just so…normal,” he chuckles, before laying beside you. 
“I had some practice acting normal around you, but I really didn’t. I think you nearly gave me a heart attack that night,” and you grin, drawing so close that you even feel the hitch of his breath. 
“That good, huh?” You tease, and it only takes a moment until he’s hovering over you, lust pooled in his gaze that lights a fire on your body wherever it lays. 
And his lips meet yours right after he whispers, “I’ll show you good.” 
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“One more, baby,” Yuji tells you, but you barely hear it through the haze of pleasure and heat that fills the room, along with the sounds of the squelch of his fingers in your tight cunt, “just need one more,” 
And how many times had he made you orgasm already? You’d lost count — five or six at least. The first had taken some time, working his finger into your weeping slit, the way your walls stretch around him make you wonder how good it will feel when he fucks you. It’s not long before he’s sinking another finger in, the sounds and feelings of his digits curling is enough to bring you to orgasm. And the rest are a blur — another finger in your tight entrance, fucking you open as he toyed with your walls, until you came again and again. 
And now he bent down, lips around your clit, teasing and sucking at the sensitive bud, as your fingers curled in his pink locks as the lewd moans fell from your mouth with ease. You’re so close — so fucking close, and when his fingertips brush against that spot and it’s all too much. 
You cum around his fingers and mouth, his name on your lips as you do, back arching against him, as he eases his fingers from your cunt. He licks his fingers clean as your eyes flutter open to meet his, “You taste so good, baby — you’re perfect,” and you watch as his tongue flicks out to clean his lips and chin of your sticky release. 
And soon enough he’s kissing you, hand cupping your cheek, letting you taste yourself on his lips, as your fingers drag over his bare chest and follow his happy trail into the elastic of his boxers. A soft moan leaves his kiss ruined lips, as his eyes are lidded with lust, soft pants against your skin. 
“Is this a dream?” Yuji murmurs, his lips ghosting along your jaw, “never thought we would get here,” and you turn your head to meet his lips in another sweet kiss. 
“It isn’t, we’re here. Took us long enough,” your lips curl, your fingers tracing over his cheek, “and nowhere else I rather be — or no one else I rather be with,” 
“You sure?” And you’ve flipped him over, kissing down his body, fingers tugging at the elastic of his boxers until his dick is freed from the fabric, “fuck, baby, you don’t have—“ 
And his words are cut off with a grunt as your fingers grazes his erection, teasing his weeping head. You start to pump up and down, working the thick beads of precum over his length, his head falling back. 
“How’s your cock so pretty, Yu?” you coo, blowing air over his dick, making him twitch in your hand, “never thought one of these would ever be so pretty,” you let his length slap against your tongue, slowly dragging it down your 
He hisses, hands grasping at the sheets, as you bend down to flick his tongue against the head of his cock. Your lips close around it, and suck, raising the back of his hand to cover his mouth, “fuck, s’good, baby, I—“ 
And you’re letting his cock sink past your lips, your tongue flicking against his slit. Your eyes find his own, as you hollow out your cheeks and sucking hard, and his hips buck into your mouth. His tip brushes against your throat, and you’re moaning around him, your fingers cup his balls, nails digging into your scalp. 
“Baby, fuck, I’m close—where—“ and he’s trying to ease you off, but your hands only hold his hips in place. Your nose brushing against his pubes. And when you’re suck hard on his tip, toying with his sack, only for him to moan your name, before cumming down your throat, his hot release painting your insides. 
You’re slowly pulling off his dick, a string of cum and spit connecting your lips to his cock, a smile on your face. You swallow his release, the salty taste still on your lips as you watch him pant, chest rising and falling. 
“Taste so good, Yu,” you murmur, and you’re moving back up to kiss him, “think I’m addicted,” you murmur, as your lips find each other again and again. 
“Now you know how I feel,” he smiles, fingers running through your hair, “been addicted to you for over a decade,” and he’s sitting up, guiding you into his lap slowly, “we can always stop right here, we don’t have—“ 
You kiss him softly, the way he deserved, the way you’ve wanted to for so long, “I want to, Yuji, I really want to,” your fingers intertwine with his, squeezing his hand, his arm slipping around your waist, “because I love you,” 
And your fingers grasp his hardening cock, pressing it to your dripping slit, and god, he’s so fucking big. You knew how big he was, but just feeling him pressed against you makes you ache at how he’ll be stretching you out. He drags his dripping tip against your slit, letting your cum mix together, letting his head catch on your clit. 
Finally, you’re sinking onto him, his thick length parting your walls, inch by inch. Your head falls back, as he leans into your touch, watching you flinch at the stretch, “you okay?” Yuji’s pressing sweet kisses to your lips and cheek, “should I stop—“ 
“No, no, I’m fine, it’s starting to feel good,” your arms wrapping around his neck, burying your face in the crook of his neck, “ and he’s helping you sink into him, until finally your hips are flush to his, “fuck, Yu—you’re so deep—“ his cock twitches against your walls, a shiver up his spine at your words. 
And he’s panting, his lips pressed to your shoulder, “you feel s’good, baby — so wet and warm—“ you smile, cupping his cheek, “can’t believe this is real — can’t believe—“ 
“It’s real, Yuji, it’s real,” your lips curl into a smile, “I’m here, I love you,” 
“I love you too, I love you so much,” he kisses you again and again, as he shifts slowly under you, swallowing a gasp that leaves your lips. 
“Please, Yuji, move—“ and he obliges, beginning to fuck into you, and your head falls back, as his cock rocks into you, a moan falling from your lips as you do. He’s groaning your name again and again, a grunt when you begin to ride him in tandem, both of your thrusts sending him deeper into you. 
“Baby, fuck, you’re perfect. You’re so good f’me,” his lips finding your neck, as his strokes become faster and deeper, the sounds of your skin slapping together rings in your ears as he fucks you harder and harder, “g’nna cum, s’close,“ 
“I’m close too,” you’re panting as his lips find yours in a sloppy, messy kiss that has you losing yourself more and more, as his thrusts become more and more swallow. And when he finds your clit between your bodies, rubbing as he finds that one spot that has you seeing stars, “Yuji- I’m—“ 
And you cum hard around him, soaking his cock and thighs as you do, walls squeezing him tight until he’s spilling his warm seed inside you. You slow as you do, legs quivering, as you nearly slump against him and he holds you impossibly closer. He helps you both detangle, easing his softening cock from inside you, a small groan as he sees your mixed releases leaking from you. He helps you lie back, as he wraps his arms around you, running his fingers through your hair. 
“Are you okay?” he whispers, brow furrowed in slight worry as your eyes flutter open, lips curling as your fingers smooth the wrinkles of his forehead. 
“I’d be better if you’d kiss me,” you whisper and he obliges, a soft kiss to your lips that leaves you warmer than you were before, “now I’m perfect,” 
“You always were,” and you chuckle, rolling your eyes, before shaking your head, burying your face in the crook of his neck. 
“No, that’s because I had an excellent teacher,” and he laughs, before he pulls you even closer, finding your lips in a kiss. 
“And you always will.” 
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“Come on, Fushiguro, pay up,” Nobara holds out her hand, as Megumi glares, pulling out his wallet and plucking money from his wallet and handing it to her. 
“You cheated,” he says as she snatches the money, counting it with a grin on her lips, “I don’t know what you did, but I know you did,” 
“You never said we couldn’t give them advice,” she grins, as she pockets his money, “and all I did was give Yuji a nudge, he’s the one who fucked—“ 
“Alright,” Megumi rubs his temples, “I get it, but it’s still unfair — we’ve been waiting for them to get together all these years and all of sudden he gets the idea to become her friends with benefits—“ and Nobara only grins wider, “you didn’t—“ 
She shrugs, “you can wait around for two idiots to figure it out, or you can shove them off the deep end.” 
“I knew you cheated,” Megumi grumbles, “that’s the last time I ever make a bet with you, Kugisaki,” 
And she smirks, “Well now you’ve been taught a lesson too.” 
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✧ a/n: another celebration fic done! now just one more and then i can start preparing for the next follower celebration :). i've settled on using wips but i'll pick out a bunch of prompts for you all to request for certain ones. that way, you all have had a hand in them <3. thank you to laney for helping beta <3.
✧ taglist: @adrenova, @nakariabnrb, @skvllknight, @hanlay, @spider-fan72, @anonimusunnoaniswriting, @chososcamgirl, @thenezuko, @catsgomurp, @too-much-snow, @sashaiko, @forest-fruits-jam, @rita-ritarita, @anyaeuh, @dezznuggetsblog, @jayathelostdragon, @newspapergirlmal, @2livelaughlovefictionalmen2, @being-me-is-not-a-sin, @xoocii, @firelordazulaaaa, @cira273, @twosec0nd, @ororomunroro, @sunamatic, @withoutanameyet, @gojorgeous, @masctomboy805, @hantaslittlearsonist, @lemonpoppy-seed, @malmare, @teraine, @boopadoopa333, @jeyughh, @coffeebun17, @faeryli, @katienaps, @tojbitch, @fushitoru, @soulofoz, @yamaguccitadashi
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a-b-riddle · 3 days
Text
Part 2
Can't stop thinking about reader finally cutting them loose.
For three days there was nothing but radio silence. In those three days you had told yourself that it was a grace period. Time for Simon to cool off and realize how much of a bastard he was for saying all those things he obviously didn't mean. Johnny coming back over with a bouquet of flowers and endless apologies and cuddles.
Simon didn't apologize for his harsh words.
Johnny didn't call you later, as promised.
For three days you jumped at every single notification, silently hoping it was one of them. Any of them.
But it wasn't.
And you, unfortunately, got the answer to the question you had been asking yourself for months.
Did they still want this?
The answer was clear.
You didn't let their unofficial dismissal get to you. You still had shit to do. A life to get on to. A book signing to go to.
Jesus.
A book signing. A book you wrote. A book that was being published and released the day of the expo. You weren't expecting a huge line because this was your debut novel, but with the help of some ARC readers who had took to social media, there had been a bit of a storm brewing.
You had listened to John when he had mentioned writing under an alias. Don't know how crazy people are out there. They'd do anything to get close to you, Dove. Just better to protect yourself where you can. You almost hated yourself for listening to him now. Now you would just have to keep writing under your pen name.
You were getting ready to close up shop early when your phone finally pinged.
Kyle.
Fuck.
Of course it was Kyle. The one who hadn't treated you like you were constantly bothering him. Not the one who made you feel guilty for agreeing to your arrangement. Nor was he the one who fucked you and left you. No. He was just the one who just wasn't there.
Maybe that was just as bad.
What are you up to today?
That was it. Almost two weeks of radio silence and that's all he had to say? It just added more evidence that you were making the right call in ending this now. It had already carried on for too long.
You had two things on your to-do list and you wouldn't let Kyle's sudden reappearance deter you.
E-mail the publisher back.
Change the locks.
You didn't have the strength to face them again. If they groveled, it would be too easy to take them back. One against four wasn't much of a fair fight. And if they didn't care to fight for you... you don't know if you could survive it. Coming face-to-face with the proof that it didn't bother them to give you up even though it was killing you.
No. Cutting it off completely was the best thing to do.
So you didn't respond.
You left Kyle's text unanswered as you e-mailed the publisher back that everything was set for your flight on tomorrow morning. You would spend Thursday adjusting to the time difference and Friday you would rest up before the expo this weekend. She assured you that you would need to rest up your writing hand. Whatever that means.
You left Kyle read as you closed up shop several hours earlier than usual. You needed to drop off the bank deposit before you started on task number two.
You didn't bothering responding to Johnny when he had texted you when you were leaving the hardware store, purchase in hand. Asking if you were free Friday. Promising dinner. 'In or out. Your choice.'
It was almost second nature when you got home to pull up your phone. Ready to text one of them to see which one of them could come over and help.
Fixing a leaky sink? Nothing Johnny hasn't seen before. Need help moving furniture? John won't mind when you change your several times on what should go where. Kyle would always come in with take out the moment you mentioned you were hungry and whenever you felt like going for a walk when it was a bit too late in the evening, Simon was the first to volunteer as your personal guard dog.
But asking them to come and change the very lock you planned on using to keep them out seemed... counter productive, if not downright petty.
You were almost done with the lock when your phone sounded off. Only this time it wasn't a text. Someone was calling you.
You almost faltered when John's name came on your screen.
Fuck.
That almost got you.
You almost answered it.
Almost.
You clicked on the 'Sorry, I can't talk right now. Options, before finishing up your work.
And just like that, you were done. No help needed. You had changed the lock. Even adding on a deadbolt. Replacing the flimsy chain Simon had taunted you about. If someone wanted to get in here, that wouldn't stop them.
Well, now you didn't need to hear it anymore.
Not that you would really hear it again...
Your flight was in twelve hours. Although that seemed an ample amount of time you hadn't even begun to pack. You had luckily narrowed your outfits down, but now was the task of folding it nicely into your suitcase rather than just stuffing it in there.
On my way. We need to talk.
It was too late for talking. Three days too late. Several months too late.
The last message sent was four weeks ago. A new Thai place had opened up close to your apartment that you were wanting to try. All of them had given you excuses.
Not my taste, Dove.
Cannae do it tonight. Next weekend? Next weekend didn't happen either.
I can do tomorrow. Kyle ended up bailing. You forget the excuse he used.
Simon hadn't even bothered to reply.
The final nail in the coffin of your relationship. Almost two years wasted with nothing, but a broken heart to show for it. And the worst part is, they had all chipped away at your heart, leaving you to deal with the final blow that would shatter it.
Im sorry. I can’t do this with you anymore. wish you all the best.
Your fingers made quick work in blocking their numbers. It was best. If they wanted to reach you, they couldn't. On the other side of the coin, if they didn't care to reply, you wouldn't spend countless hours crying over the fact that none of them had been affected the same way you had.
You would deal with getting them their belongings that they had left behind another time. You had big things, great things happening for you. You were cutting your loses. You were cutting them loose.
You just hoped you didn’t regret it.
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slvttyplum · 2 days
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suguru didn't like when you didn't keep your back arched, he had a secret spot on your back that had you quivering and keeping your back arched whenever he pressed into it, a secret button if you will.
suguru wanted to make sure he was hitting every spot he could when he was inside of you, if you could cum on his dick in 10 seconds whether than 10 minutes then that is what he wanted, he didn't have time for you to hunch your back whenever he hit a spot, he wanted you to keep position.
if you asked him his pet peeve during sex then he would point right at you, don't get him wrong, he loved how sensitive you were to his touch, every touch of his making you jolt and whimper, it was cute, he loved it, but what he didn't love was instructing you on how to get back into position and to not move, so he found something that came in handy, his two thumbs.
whenever you were on all fours face down ass up, his hands would trail up your side and place both hands on your sides and slid his thumbs to your lower back where he would lightly press into you, your back arching more. once he found out that instead of hunching, you would arch your back more, he decided that's what he had to do to keep you in check.
suguru kept it very serious when it came to pleasing you, he didn't want the horrific words of “i didn't finish.” coming out of your mouth after he tried his hardest to. so if that meant pushing his thumbs into your lower back to keep you in position, then he would do that, but the results were amazing.
whining into the sheets as you finish all over his dick, your walls clenching around him and feeling his veins rub against them. he knew you didn't mind the way he did things, that's why he took advantage of it, even if he had to be rough with things.
sometimes he even got carried away when you were squeezing around him tightly, locking eyes on your back and seeing it lift, slowly pressing his thumbs into your back causing you to moan and arch your back-down again. he couldn't lose his nut, the way you were squeezing around him felt too good to give up, the more he got into it the more rough his thumbs got, pressing deeper into you.
another moan slipping past your lips as drool was creeping out the corner of your mouth, and your eyes rolled to the top of your eyelids, suguru pressing deeper inside of you. sex was always better with him when he got rough with things, his chest rising and falling as sweat slid down his forehead and little strands of hair stuck to his forehead.
the same routine of his thumbs pressing into your back as he reaches climax, his thumbs rising as he runs his hands over your ass and giving you a love tap. he meant well when he did these things because he knew you wanted to keep your back arched but the pleasure he was giving you was too much, but he had to keep you in position to make you cum.
he loved the way your ass popped out whenever your back was arched, it was so sexy he would literally drool at the mouth. your face hiding underneath your arm as he rubbed you down, he didn't just keep your back arched for the pleasure, but it was just aesthetically pleasing to look at you in that position.
remember… keep your back arched, keep your man happy.
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tonycries · 16 hours
Text
Welcome To The Itadori's! - C.K.
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Synopsis. Three times Choso really, really wanted to hold you without his family barging in, and the one time he actually does. 
Pairing. Best friend! Choso Kamo x Reader
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, childhood best friends to lovers, slowburn, cameos from the Itadori’s (Yuji, Jin, grandpa, SUKUNA), smút only when they’re adults, first times, oral (female receiving), cúnnilingus, marking, rough, Choso’s a bit mean in bed, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 5.0k
A/N. The unc-kuna brainrot got me here, Yuji’s family tree is HILARIOUS.
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“You’ve never what?”  
“I mean, yeah? So what if I’ve never…uh-” eyes darting to the erotic scene on-screen. “M’surely not missing out on that much.”
Maybe he was. Maybe he wasn’t. Whatever the answer was, Choso could only pray that no one walked into your apartment right now.
---
Choso swears his family is well and fully intent on ruining every waking moment with you. 
He’s convinced even, at this point. Because in the 13 long years of being inseparable from you - ever since you were both whiney, snot-faced brats - Choso’s racked up more interruptions than he’s seen on those k-dramas that his grandfather swears he doesn’t watch.
It was like some cosmic joke, really. All he wanted was a moment with just the two of you…and maybe a second or two to confess his undying love. But that didn’t seem too realistic when the Itadori’s were a bit of a packaged deal, unfortunately.  
Alas, Choso’s resigned himself to accept the fact that maybe - just maybe - this was the universe’s way of telling him that his pretty best friend was indeed too good for him. Something he’s suspected ever since the both of you were eight.
The realization had hit him like a semi-truck back then - five of them, in fact. And a whole zoo of animals afterward.
Of course, it’s not like that was any secret. He always thought you were perfect from the second you’d moved in - that new family next door he’d been eagerly waiting ages to arrive. And Choso, being the dutiful oldest son, was the one to deliver welcome cookies to your doorstep. Stumbling, and carefully trying to reach for the doorbell without dropping any. 
“Um, welcome to-”
“Your hair’s funny.”
Now, Choso’s never greeted neighbors before, but it surely wasn’t supposed to go like this. Why was he being insulted by some little girl - you were missing a few teeth, and his had just grown back in so obviously he was much older and wiser. All unapologetic smiles and twinkling eyes as you blink up curiously at his space buns. Pretty, even when you were tearing his heart out because hey, he thought this hairstyle was cool, okay?
Which is what had him huffing and puffing back home, running straight into the arms of his dad while he tried not to cry. That is, until you came knocking at his door with your parents. Very much bawling and pulling him into a bone-crushing hug with wet mumbles of “M’sorry, meant your hair’s very cool. Wanna match-”
And, if his cheeks burned just a bit, well, Choso blamed the tears. 
After a disaster like that, of course you’d grow to be best friends within the day. 
But what that didn’t explain was when - after hours of bickering over whether to play tag or house - you were all tuckered out and sat beside him in a corner of his room, too exhausted to talk his ear off. Head lolling once. Twice. Falling softly onto his shoulder.
Oh. 
Now, Choso might just be having the first epiphany of his entire, grueling eight years in this world - that you were very, very pretty fast asleep with your head on his shoulder. 
Why? Why were you here barging into his life and turning it upside down? Calling him your “new best friend” and dragging him along wherever you went. It made his poor head absolutely spin, not daring to move a muscle so that you didn’t wake up and see this tiny predicament.
He didn’t know why. But what he did know was that he found himself subconsciously reaching for your hand, a strange little part of himself wanting to see how much smaller they were than his. They looked so soft and warm and-
“I WANNA PLAY T- Oh.”
Oh indeed. He hastily lurches away from you like it burned, hands raised like he was caught red-handed. Feeling slightly sorry when he sees you blinking away the sleep to take in your surroundings, eyes bouncing off of a very excited Yuji and resting on the clock.
“Oh no. Mommy’s gonna be mad.” you gasp, hastily getting up. And he feels a weird pang as you quickly dust down your dress, running out the door with a laughed out, “Bye, Yuji! See ya later, Cho~!”
“Bye, crybaby.”
And then it’s quiet. Only Choso still staring after you, and Yuji staring at his older brother, somewhat awestruck and wondering only one thing-
“Big bro, why are you so red?”
Choso doesn’t think he’s gotten a moment alone with you since that first initial meeting. 
Fourteen was definitely the worst, in his opinion.
“Hey, Cho, y’know the girl sitting next to me in math said she had her first kiss today.”
“Oh.” It’s all Choso can manage to get out, paying more attention than he should to the gravel beneath him as he tries not to trip over air beside you. Hot under his uniform collar at the sudden shift in conversation from the usual after-school banter. 
Looping your arm with his, you heave out a playful sigh, “I wonder what that feels like. Have you ever thought about it?” 
No, but Choso has never thought that he’d be here - face burning at your body pressed up against his. Just knowing that his ancestors above are laughing at what a loser he is, barely able to stammer out an answer to your question. 
Okay, maybe he was being dramatic. Because it wasn’t like he hadn’t thought about kissing before - it’s just that whenever it popped into his mind, you were usually accompanying him. Along with those strange thoughts of whether your lips are as soft as they looked? Or would your heartbeat be as fast as-
“Man, are you even listening?” 
Shit. 
Your hand waving in front of Choso’s face brings him back to reality. Blinking hastily, he tries to gather his thoughts, mumbling out a quick, “Uh, yeah, sorry. Just lost in thought.” averting his gaze as he feels the heat rise to his cheeks at your intense gaze.
Your smile only widens, a mischievous glint in your eyes as you nudge his side. “Thinking so hard about kissing, huh? Cho, you lecher!” 
“Am not.”
“Am to.”
“Am not.”
“Am to.”
“Who were you imagining it with, huh? Gonna give ‘em a big smooch tomorrow?”
God, you were going to be the death of him. “N-no! I haven’t even- shut up, crybaby, it’s not like-” he sputters out useless protests over your laughter - his favorite song, even when you were teasing the hell out of him. But ah how you relish in his embarrassment, tittering out little giggles all the way until you’re steering him onto your lane. 
Choso, on the other hand, keeps wishing the ground would swallow him up more and more with each step towards his porch. He’d have broken into a sprint right then if he hadn’t known you and the way you’d race him there instead.
“Alright.” you declare once you’re stood at his front door, jolting Choso out of his reverie. And he’s barely opening his mouth to register your words before you plowing on confidently. “We’ll just have to practice our first kisses with each other.”
Perfect. Great. Wonderful. 
The final nail on his coffin. You might as well have planted a bombshell right in the middle of his already-chaotic world with the way he was reeling in- shock? Fear? Anticipation?
“Practice.” Choso whispers, more to himself than you. Yet you nod anyway, eyes locked with his like you were studying his reaction. “For…practice.”
Doubt starts to creep into your pretty features, “Well, we don’t have to if you do-”
“No no no no, I want- ahem.” he cringes at the pathetic desperation in his voice. Desperately trying to scramble back some semblance of sanity as he clears his throat, “I want to. Just-” Choso urgently looks around for- ah, there it is. 
Dragging over the brick from the side of his porch because goddammit he might be 14 but he sure hadn’t hit that growth spurt yet. “Practice, right?”
You nod with a fiery determination that, later on, would make Choso chuckle with fondness. Muttering out a firm, “Practice.” Letting the boy in front of you nervously leans closer, breath fanning your face. And shit if you were nervous then you didn’t show it, but Choso felt like he was about to spontaneously combust. 
Brows furrowing in concentration, eyes only squinting ever-so-slightly as he takes peaks at how pretty you looked. Close enough that he could count every lash as your pretty eyes closed shut, lips glistening with that strawberry chapstick you loved, puckering adorably. Only inching closer and-
Click! 
“You two are so cute! But um- dear, how do you mute this thing?”
You spring apart so fast that Choso wouldn’t be surprised if you’d teleported. He doesn’t even know what’s happening before, from the safety of about three meters away from him, you’re muttering out an embarrassed little, “Hi there, Mr. Itadori. The gardenia are coming along nicely.”
His dad smiles like he hadn’t just starred in what was likely Choso’s villain origin story. Waving happily, “Aww, thank you, sweetheart. Now, why don’t you two go back to doing your lil’ thing and I can ah- practice my photography.”
“Dad, I’m running away.”
That practice kiss never happens. And, well, if there was a proudly framed photo down the hallway of the two of you - with Choso absolutely bright red and standing comically on a brick to meet your height, faces nervously scrunching towards each other - well, neither of you ever mention it. Jin Itadori does, though - every time you come over, in fact. 
It’s only when you’re both eighteen, when Choso’s a lot deeper in his feelings - and only slightly less embarrassed about it - that he thinks that maybe not all family interruptions were that bad. 
Graduation was…something. Not exactly something that he’s sure if he’ll ever want to relive with the sheer amount of awkward photos and tears that his dad lets out. God if he has to shuffle into another-
“You alright, Cho?”
Ah. 
Traitorously, a smile makes its way onto his face, peering down at your beaming face. Both of you having made it way past the awkward early teens. Well, at least you certainly have - Choso still feels like the same awkward little boy with an even more awkward crush. “Hm? Yeah, m’great.” 
“Are ya sure? Because you look like you’re about to have an aneurysm any second now.” you raise a brow teasingly. Ah, how gorgeous you were - even when you’re picking him apart. 
“Yeah. Great. Only had this smile plastered on for the last five hours.”
“Aww, but you look so pretty smiling.” you shrug, with the audacity of someone that didn’t just have Choso’s knees dangerously weak. “Anyway- A bunch of us are gonna try to convince ol’ Yaga to let us take photos with his shades, you wanna come?”
“You think m’pretty?” he muses, embarrassingly late.
“Cho.”
“Yaga. Shades. Got it.” Choso mock salutes, drinking in the little laugh it startles out of you, eyes sparkling with mischief and looking right into his soul. Beautiful. You were always beautiful. 
And Choso can’t just stand around and do nothing about it.
“Crybaby, look, I-” Fists clenching, he takes a steadying breath. The heat only rising to his cheeks at your awaiting gaze, “I…”
“HEY, GRANDPA HELPED STEAL YAGA’S SHADES LET’S TAKE A PIC-”
“SHUT THE FUCK UP ITADORI. YOU’RE RUINING A MOMENT, LET THEM HAVE THEIR MOMENT.”
“I don’t know either of you two.”
It would be a miracle for a moment not to be ruined with two overly-energetic first-years (and a very reluctant Fushiguro) pushing their way into your little bubble. Choso bites back a groan as you’re immediately swarmed by a bickering Kugisaki and Yuji, one apologizing for “ruining your k-drama moment” and the other trying to get you to put on some sunglasses. Well, at least he could empathize with the black-haired boy, who gave him an apologetic nod. 
He’s only halfway through waving off the interruption before a voice speaks up from his side. “Why didn’t you say it?”
Whirling around, Choso comes face-to-face with the disappointed look on his grandfather’s face. Already having some idea of what you mean, “Wha-”
“I may be old but m’not deaf, yet, boy. Why didn’t ya tell her?” he sighs, tilting his head to where you were wearing those shades and taking ridiculous pictures with two animated first-years. 
“I don’t know what you-”
“M’not blind, either. Quite frankly I’m insulted.”
And, well, if there’s anyone that he can’t hide from - it would be his grandfather. So he heaves out a defeated sigh, touselling his hair while muttering out a pathetic little, “M’not- Ugh, she’s too fuckin’ perfect and I…I chickened out.”
Choso doesn’t know what he expected in response but it definitely wasn’t for his grandfather to laugh. Full, and raspy - loud enough that even you stop to stare. “Thought so, idiot boy.” he chuckles, drawing indignant protests. “Did she tell you?”
Raising a brow, “What?”
“Did she tell you that you weren’t good ‘nough for her?”
“No, but-” Whatever protest on the tip of Choso’s tongue is cut off by a rough hand smacking his back in what he thinks is reassurance, but felt more like a punishment for being such a pussy around you all these years. 
“Then go. Ya might just be surprised. After all, you’re my grandson, and all the ladies at bingo love me.”
Shaking with both adrenaline and the effort to keep that image out of his mind, he makes his way towards you. Purposeful. Pointedly ignoring the matching smirks flashed his way. 
“You really think they’ll finally get together today?” Fushiguro deadpans from where he’d snuck up beside the old man, in an attempt to escape the public nuisances he calls ‘friends’. 
Choso’s grandfather hums thoughtfully, watching the scene play out before him - Choso flushed such a delicate shade of pink as you playfully put Yaga’s sunglasses on him. Settling on a gruff, “I’ll give it a few months more. He’s my grandson, after all.”
“That’s generous. I’d give it a couple years more.”
“Wanna bet, brat?”
“...”
Safe to say, his second button ended up safely in your hands that day. But Fushiguro would be the one to really win the bet. 
Because it was only 2 years, 4 months and 3 weeks after this little incident that Choso finally had you exactly where he wanted - with no interruptions. All for him. 
Freshly twenty one, splayed out on your apartment bedroom and having a conversation that he never in a million years would’ve even dared to imagine he’d have - with you of all people. All because of that stupid R-rated film you’d put on for movie night. 
“You’ve never what?” you gape, turning down the volume to those painfully fake moans coming from the tv.
Oh, how gorgeous you looked - all shocked and batting your lashes up at him in surprise. Choso almost swoons inwardly (and outwardly) before he realizes that shit you were probably waiting for an answer.
“I mean, yeah?” he sputters out, cheeks heating up as you lean in closer to hear him. Close. “So what if I’ve never…uh-” eyes darting to the erotic scene on-screen. “M’surely not missing out on that much.”
Goddammit, some strange, carnal part of himself twinges dangerously at the little smirk that curls your lips. One that he quickly - and embarrassingly - realizes has the blood rushing straight to his cock. Humming a low, “Maybe. Maybe not.” The mattress dips slightly as you shift closer, lips ghosting his ear. “Want me to help you find out?”
Which is, well, how Choso found himself shoved against the armrest. Blanket thrown on the floor now, swollen cock leaking furiously through his pants as your pretty lil’ cunt hovers above his mouth. So wet that if he stuck his tongue out he could have you dripping all onto him. 
“Y-you sure about this, sweetheart?” he hisses despite his hands looping around your thighs, bringing you closer to him.
You raise a brow, “Are you sure, Cho?”
He should say no. He should laugh this all off as a bad joke. He shouldn’t ruin this friendship - but oh how badly he wants just a taste of your dripping pussy - see if she’s as sweet as the rest of you is. So, throwing caution to the wind, Choso nods slowly. “Yes. Want it s’bad.”
Grinning wickedly, you whisper, “Thought so.” And then he’s pulling you onto his mouth, hot and urgent.
“Oh fuck-” he groans, eyes rolling to the back of his head at the first taste of your sweet sweet juices. “Shit shit shit.” So sloppily licking up your swollen folds - barely moving with any method or patience, just that he’s drunk on your pussy and wants more more more-
“Hngh- f-fuck. You sure this is your hah- first time, Cho?” you gasp breathlessly. And oh your best friend was so fucking beautiful. Dark hair untied and tousled, eyes half-hooded, your slick already smearing across the bottom half of his face and trickling down his jaw because shit he was so messy. So addicted to that desperate expression on your face that he just can’t help but tease you a little bit. 
“Mhm?” he smirks, tongue swirling around your pulsing clit. Purposefully missing right where you wanted him the most because shit he loved those cute lil’ whines spilling out of you. 
You let out a huff, hips trying pathetically to inch him closer - but Choso wasn’t budging. Holding you so firmly by the hips that you’re sure he leaves bruises, licking all over your cunt except for your clit. “Cho.” you warn. Brows furrowing in frustration at the way he bats his long lashes up at you so deceivingly innocently, “What?”
“You know…”
“I don’t.” he titters teasingly into your pussy. 
“Choso.”
Now, Choso’s known and seen everything there is to do with you - but never like this. Spread open shamefully and pouting so adorably on top of him, so needy for him. It made his head spin to think of just how much the dynamics had shifted. 
Shit, he really should’ve watched that godforsaken movie with you sooner. “Tell me what you want, crybaby.”
And oh how his cock twitches at the way you manage to get out an embarrassed little, “Wan’ you to ngh- tonguefuck me properly. Wanna cum on your pretty face, Cho.”
And that’s all that’s said before he’s surging forward, glossy lips wrapping around your pulsing clit to suck harshly. Rolling his soft tongue over and over-
“Wanted this for so long.” Choso mutters, muffled as he buries himself deeper into your pretty pussy. The vibrations sending white-hot pleasure running down your spine. “You have absolutely no idea, pretty.”
And you barely even have the time to register his little confession before Choso’s moving down to bully his tongue past your folds. Nose pressing against your throbbing clit as he dips into your sloppy hole. 
“Oh shit. Jus’ like that.” For a beginner, your best friend really knew what he was doing. Eating you out like his favorite meal, tongue squeezing into your snug pussy to thrust in and out, swipe against your walls, stretching you out right to his will. Over and over-
“Use me.”
Your eyes snap down to meet the pure adoration in his eyes as he makes out filthily with your cunt. Choking out a little, “What?”
“Use me.”
There it was again - that strained little mantra. And as if to prove his point, Choso reaches out to deftly place your hands on his head, bucking into you touch. 
And, well, how could you say no to that?
Because before you know it, you’re bunching Choso’s soft strands in your fists. Angling him just right to ride his pretty face. “C’mon, Cho. Ngh- H-harder, jus’ a bit- Oh!” he just devours the way your mouth drops into an adorable little oh! as his tongue curls deftly against that one spot. Again and again. Letting himself be so used, dragging your dripping cunt harder on his mouth. 
And he likes it. Hell, he loves it even - because you’re so sweet n’ pretty on his mouth. Better than everything he’s ever been dreaming of for the past few years. And always in his dreams, you’d be clenching so deliciously around his tongue when you were close - just like right now. 
So he speeds up his movements, breathing you in maddeningly. A hand snaking down from it’s favorite place on your hips to draw quick, frenzied little circles on your poor, ravaged clit. Jaw almost aching with how filthily he was dripping in and out of your entrance - be he did give a shit. Only wanting to have you breathless and creaming all over his face.
You jerk violently on top of him, “Hah! S’too much, Cho. M’so close- gonna cum- gonna-”
And then you’re cumming. Fast, and hard. 
Plushy walls clamping down on Choso’s tongue, hips stuttering on his face as he laps up all your juices, an arm around your waist helping you ride his face through your high. 
“S’sweet. Could get used to that.” he slurs into your cunt. Tipping his head back as far as it’d go to let the last of your juices slide down his throat. “Better than I imagined.”
The words ring in your ears as you blink back your vision. Deliriously whirling down to look down at Choso - still beneath you and looking more smug and content than you’d ever seen him. “Imagination? S’that why you’re so good.”
“No.”
You’re being flipped before you know it. Manhandled so easily by your best friend as he lays you on your back, sinking into the cushion while he looms above you. “S’jus’ that…” grunting as he flings his shirt off, “Been dreaming of your pretty cunt on m’tongue for years.”
Okay, now his confession hits - more than it did when he was tonguefucking you into insanity, anyway. 
“Years, huh?” you breathe out, eyes roaming all over his sculpted torso. Taking in every dip and curve of Choso’s toned abs - all the way from his broad shoulders to the rock-hard cock straining against his pants. As if in a trance, your hand reaches out to cup his leaking erection, “S’that all you’ve been dreaming of?”
“You little minx.” he lets out a low hiss. 
Before you can even react, Choso’s fumbling with that belt - cursing because shit, he’d have worn sweatpants instead if he knew they’d end up on your floor. 
And you’re not any better, fingers popping open his buttons and tugging impatiently and oh- You always thought that your best friend would have a big dick - but this?  He was so intimidatingly long - and thick enough that you wondered whether you’d hurt yourself. Fat tip flushed such a pretty shade of pink to match his cheeks, leaking down down down, all the way to his heavy balls. 
You’re only jolted out of your little reverie by Choso spitting a steady stream of spit onto your quivering cunt, spreading it lazily across your pussy with his thumb. A ringed fist pumping his cock slowly, as he drags his tip across your folds, pooling your sweet juices. Muttering out a raspy, “I’ll be gentle.”
“You better not be, now jus’ fuck me-”
Well, you didn’t have to ask Choso twice. Because you’ve barely gotten the words out before he’s bullying massive cock into your tight cunt. Pressing in inch by fucking inch as you gasp and buck underneath him. 
“Shhh, s’okay, crybaby. This is what you wanted, right?” he mumbles, with all the audacity of someone that wasn’t fucking into you in rapid, mindless little jabs to fit inside your snug lil’ pussy. Struggling to hold back at this point. “Wanted to be split apart on m’cock?”
You were so full of him. Even more so when he throws your legs over his shoulders, bending all the way down and folding you in half so easily beneath him. 
He drinks in the barely-lucid squeal that leaves your swollen lips. Kissing your forehead gently, whispering against the skin, “Because I’ve wanted this for so fucking long.”
And then it was like something snapped - maybe his sanity, maybe the restraint that Choso’s been holding back for too long. Because immediately he’s plunging his throbbing cock into you - all the way till his balls, all angry and squeezing so painfully, smacks against your ass. 
“Wanted this.” he rasps into your open mouth. His hips were out of control now, thrusting you in shallow, desperate rams. Pounding into you like a man possessed, and running his mouth just as much. He laces his fingers on top of your head, pushing you down even deeper into his relentless cock - as if the bastard wasn’t fucking you dumb already. “Fuckin’ needed this needed this. Shit- so bad.”
“Ch-Choso- fuck hah-” you plead as his mouth clashes with yours. All sloppy with teeth and spit and his profanities - and it felt so damn good. 
“Yeah? Who’s fucking you silly, now?” he’s going harder now, tip hitting your poor cervix over and over. And you’d be sobbing at the burn and the stretch but all you can think of is shit this is Choso - the kid you used to play hide and seek with. And now he seems fully intent on breaking you. “Say m’name.”
A rough thumb starts toying with your clit, in time with the cute lil’ whines of his name that escape your mouth like a prayer. “Shit. Y’look so pretty like this.” he babbles. “Gonna cry, pretty girl?” smirking down at the way you were too cockdrunk to even snap back, only looking up at him with delirious, teary eyes. “Be a crybaby for my cock?”
You’re tugging on his hair, thighs shaky and bucking upwards. “Cho-”
“Mhm?”
“W-wanna cum. Need you to fill m’up till I can’t take it anymore.”
Oh if Choso was any lesser man he’d have cum right then and there. Instead settling for a guttural groan, drunk off the way you were milking his cock so hard as if to prove your point. It almost made him want to stay like this forever. But no - not right now. 
“Oh yeah?” Hips becoming sloppy now, “Need it? Shit- m’so close.” Each word slurred, punctuated by a harsh thrust, strokes long and frenzied. Using your heavenly pussy like his personal fucktoy. So hard that he’s sure you’d have embarrassing matching bruises tomorrow - his balls on your ass, your nails raking down his shoulders.
“Me too- fuck fuck fuck-” you mewl into his neck, as Choso buried his face into yours. 
“Cum f’me, my girl.”
My girl. 
And then you are - and he is. And you don’t know who cums first, just that you’re seeing stars behind your eyes and Choso’s teeth digging into your neck as he thrusts once. Twice. Before cumming and cumming so hard he might as well have seen the pearly gates of heaven. And you were an angel.
Thick, hot ropes of cum that paint your walls white, so much that it gushes out of your poor overfilled pussy. Dripping down your legs and pooling into a sinful, creamy ring at his base. 
“Mm- shit. Choso.” you moan, barely audible over the lewd squelches from below. 
“M’here, my girl.” he grits out, voice shot. And it seems that that was his new favorite nickname, because Choso keeps murmuring it over and over as he keeps fucking his seed into you. Not even thinking about it at this point - just mindless, shallow grinds of his hips. 
In the haze of your orgasm, you think you hear his quiet voice, strained with exhaustion and something that you weren’t in the right state of mind to decipher right now. 
“Shhh, m’here. “Can’t believe I waited so fuckin’ long.” Whispering against your lips, “Love this. Love this pretty cunt.” Kissing softly, “Love the way y’take me. Fuckin’ made f’me.” And maybe even a soft little, “Love you.”
And maybe - just maybe, you whisper the same into his. Kissing him softly, exactly the way you’d wanted to all these years. 
Neither of you speak after that. Not when Choso’s hips stall, body sticky and collapsing onto yours. Nor do you speak when he pulls away with a playful nip to your lower lip - a promise. Searching through your clothes for a washcloth he can wipe yourselves clean with. 
It’s only when he settles back under the covers beside you, looking at you with such dark, hazy eyes - whirling with too many emotions to name - that the silence is broken. 
“Crybaby.”
“Cho.”
“Corny.”
“You started it.”
Chuckling, Choso pulls your body close to his. Not even a hair’s breadth between you two because shit now that he’s got you, he doesn’t think he ever wants to let you go. 
“Y’know…” he starts, “I think we should- I mean- if you want…” nervous now more than he was even after all that just transpired. Cheeks flaring as he meets your amused gaze, just daring him to go on - because you saw through him. You always did. “I lov-”
“Am I late for the mov- WHAT THE FUCK I ALWAYS KNEW BRATS WEREN’T JUST FRIENDS-”
---
Itadori Family Groupchat + Two More
Dad: Hey, all. I can’t seem to get a hold of Choso to confirm tomorrow’s dinner plans. Can anyone else let me know if he’s ok? XX
-Jin.
Yuji <3: He’s probs at rhat “best friend movie night” still 
Dad: Hello, Yuji. What is a “probs”? XX
-Jin.
Kugisaki: He’s suspiciously quiet, though… Y’all think that “best friend movie night” is codeword for something else? 
Yuji <3: Better not be cuz Sukuna stole my sparw key sayin something ab crashing it idk
Kugisaki: *spare
And you just LET him?
Yuji <3: HE THREATENED TO BURN MY MEGAN THEE STALLION POSTER 
AND DID IT ANYWAY
Kugisaki: L
Fushiguro: L
Gramps: L
Sukuna (do not answer): DID Y’ALL KNOW THOSE TWO WERE FUCKIN????
*Fushiguro has left the chat*
Dad: :0
-Jin.
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A/N. Spiritually, this is a crackfic idk.
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nkogneatho · 3 days
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when you first met itadori jin, you thought he was so sweet and kind. he was always a little nerdy when he talked about things he loved. "sorry i got carried away" was something he'd often say because he thought he was bothersome. but you never thought that. you liked when his eyes lit up at the silliest science theories. you loved that he was so considerate.
but you know what they say?? nerds are the kinkiest people. when you told jin you want him to fuck you, he turned red. but you had to say it out loud because he wouldn't. he respected you. that, until he had you bent over the couch. you'd never thought he'd be so rough. but that is the thing. he was so unconscious about it. his silly science addicted brain inspected your hole and he knew you'd be able to take it with a little stretching. his large hands were on your back, pushing you further into couch. you had to turn your face to the side to make sure you don't suffocate against the cushion.
"shhh don't move, my dear. i am doing this f'you." his cock was buried deep inside but he wasn't moving. "didn't you say you wanted to do it? i need to make sure you don't get hurt in the process—ahhh fuck don't squeeze me, darling." you couldn't help it. your cunt ached for his thrusts. "i am sorry my dick is too big for you baby. but i am a good boyfriend, right? mmm shit...'n good boyfriends always give their pretty girlfriend what she asks for." he collected your wetness with his fingers and licked them. "mhmm fhuck sweetheart. knew this pretty pussy was sweet the way she was throbbing when i was inspecting her. go on, lovie...tell her to make more juices for your kind boyfriend." jin wasn't even aware how dirty the thing he was saying sounds. he just thought it was normal. he finally thrusted once and you cried out his name, unexpecting the sudden jolt. "feels good, right?" you moaned out a yes. "of course it feels good. now..." he grabbed your waist, "time to marry your pussy with my cock, darling."
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angelltheninth · 2 days
Note
Can you write what kinds of things JJK men would do to make readers heart race?
Exist. That's enough for me.
Pairing: Yuuji, Sukuna, Megumi, Gojo, Nanami, Geto, Toji, Yuta x Fem!Reader
Tags: fluff, established relationship, teasing, kissing, phone calls, cuddles, playful slap, princess carry
A/N: Well ok, they thry exist in 2D, that's good eniugh.
Yuuji eats lunch with you every day even if he's in a hospital. It's important for him that you get that time together and he gets to talk your ear off about the things that happened that day. Will casually steal a bite of your food and comment how it tastes so much better from something that your lips have touched.
Sukuna doesn't really know what constitutes as sweet anymore with the times constantly changing. He does what he likes and hopes you'll pick up on what he's trying to do. Unfortunately that something is giving your butt a smack when you walk by and then pretending he didn't do it until you get real close and he offers a kiss or a few as apology.
Megumi puts his arm around your shoulders when you walk down the street together. He never meets your eyes when he does it but even with his head turned the other way you can see the faint traces of a blush blooming across his face. You try to do the same to him but it really doesn't have the same effect.
Gojo is a little bit silly when he wants to get your attention. He is really loud when he calls your name and practically jumps you before spinning you around, not caring who sees or thinks the sight is embarrassing. You're his girlfriend and he wants to make you laugh and smile for him, always.
Nanami calls you just to tell you that he loves you very much. Seriously that is all he does, just three simple words and then he hangs up on you, not even giving you enough time to say it back, just a brief sound of delight. This happens several times a day but always at the same time to the point when you know exactly when he'll call but his words always have an effect on you.
Geto opens his arms and waits for you to melt in them every night. Better do it fast cause he will pout and complain otherwise and make the lack of feeling your body against his everyone's problem. God, he makes it sound so much more lewd then it actually is and you bet that he knows it too, it's why he does it, all for that cute flustered face.
Toji never gets tired of kissing you but his kisses are never just the sweet and calming kind, they always carry passion and heat with them. His thumb pulls on your chin, brushing your lip for a moment before you feel his tongue lick into your mouth. Always aims to take your breath away and leave you a heaving mess of a woman in his lap.
Yuta really loves to princess carry you for seemingly no reason at all. Most people would save those kinds of things for special occasions but not him, for him every day is special if he gets to spend it with you. So he will make sure you feel special every time he takes you in his arms and kisses you.
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hannieehaee · 2 days
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ARE WE STILL FRIENDS
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18+ / mdi
summary: being besties with two of the most popular idols in korea always came with a few rumors here and there, but what happened when one of your platonic besties suddenly started acting a little friendlier than usual? or worse, what happened when they both turned their affections to you?
content: idol!au, hybeidol!reader x idol!mingyu, hybeidol!reader x idol!jungkook, 97liner!reader, friends2lovers, not mingyu x jk (they just share u like all besties would<3), not that much plot, afab reader, smut, oral (f and m receiving), body worship, fingering, penetrative sex, etc.
wc: 8.2k (10k+ including kofi/patreon exclusive drabble)
a/n: the teaser for this got way more attention than i was expecting lol i hope u guys enjoy the final product!!
masterlist | kofi/patreon
support me through a one time tip<3
"Do you think the company would get mad if we did a live together right now?", Jungkook pondered out loud as the three of you sat on different pieces of furniture around his large living room.
"Yeah."
"They didn't seem to mind when Jungkook and I did it that one time," disagreed Mingyu.
"Yeah, but I'm the girl. I'm the one who wakes up to new dating rumors every time we hang out publicly."
"Yeah, but people must know we're just friends by now, right? It's been years."
That much was true.
You weren't sure of the exact date, but your friendship with both boys predated the overall international success of Kpop as of recent years. When you had met both boys, they had barely battled their way through puberty – though you weren't faring any better at the time.
The media enjoyed making the three of you a subject, knowing that you were evidently the closest out of all members of the popular 97s friend group. Being the only girl integrant, it was common for people to have the misconception that you were romantically involved with either Mingyu or Jungkook, seeing as you were often spotted in public with them.
You'd gotten used to the rumors and hate that came attached to being their friend, now usually leaving those things in the back burner rather than letting them bother you. By now, the three of you were a bit more careless about being seen together. Being seniors in the industry, those things didn't matter much to you anymore, but being seen inside Jungkook's house would surely stir up the worst rumors to date, so going live with him was entirely out of the question.
It did bother you sometimes; the double standard. While Jungkook and Mingyu could even interact in public or mention each other freely, any time you did so you were met with hate from either fandom, sometimes even your own. It also made you worry about your future. Could you ever be in a relationship without facing the brunt of all the hate that would come your way? At 26 years of age, it was a frustrating reality to think about.
Jungkook got up at some point to go fetch some more bottles of soju. Apparently the seven bottles the three of you had drank collectively weren't enough for the large men you were drinking with.
While Jungkook was gone, Mingyu got up from his seat on the couch opposite to you and took a seat down next to you, invading your personal space like he usually did.
"Worrying your pretty little head about something?", asked Mingyu as he leaned over you, taking the occasional sip from his drink.
"It's nothing."
"C'mon, what's up?", his hand ran up and down your arm in a soothing manner.
Invading your space and being overly touchy usually meant that he was tipsy. But to be fair, you were a bit tipsy too.
"Do you ever think about dating?"
"Who? You?", he chuckled.
"No, dumbass. I mean in general."
He seemed to sober up a little at the mention of the subject, straightening up a bit as he sat sideways on the couch so he could look at you fully.
"What's got you thinking about that?"
"I don't know ... I'm 26 now. Isn't it time I started settling down? Have someone filling up the other half of the bed," you pondered, feeling a bit pathetic as you did so.
Mingyu let out a quiet sound of confusion, eyebrows furrowed and head leaning to the side in question.
"Isn't that what me and Jungkook are for?"
Not taking him seriously, you chuckled and took a swing of your almost empty bottle of soju.
"I'm serious, Mingyu. I mean a romantic relationship, where, you know, it's just us and we do couple things and we settle down and all that stuff."
"What can you do with some guy that you couldn't do with us?", he grabbed both your drinks and set them on the table.
Suddenly, his demeanor seemed a bit more serious, which confused you.
Where the hell was Jungkook with those drinks?
"I- Are you serious? Do you need me to tell you?"
"Yeah, I mean, why would you need to look for some guy if you have us?"
Oh. He was serious.
"Because we're friends?," you were beyond confused, "I can't go out with you romantically, or move in with you, or," you gulped, "or sleep with you."
"You can't?", he scoot closer to you.
"Mingyu ..."
"I just mean ... Why would you go after some loser when we can just take care of you?", his hand went back to touching you, though this time it ran up and down your thigh rather than your arm. That false semblance of innocence was gone, "You want someone to keep your bed warm? You don't even have to ask ... I'll do it- we'll do it."
Through his short speech, he got closer and closer, just as the air in the room got heavier. The atmosphere itself shifted dramatically, specially with Mingyu so close to you.
Mingyu was the touchiest man you'd ever known. Being his best friend, you had fallen victim to his touchy demeanor endless times, but never like this. Never while his eyes were hooded and heavy with some emotion you'd never seen in them before.
"Gyu, I-"
"Can I show you?", he rasped, eyes now on your lips.
"Y-you're drunk," you were sure that must've been it. The combination between drinking and talking about dating must've short circuited his brain.
"Just tipsy ... Tipsy enough to get the balls to tell you how much I want you ... but lucid enough to remember how many times I've thought about this."
The hands on your thighs moved to your waist, closing in on you, slowly pulling you toward him. By the end of it, you were halfway sitting on his lap.
"You've thought about this?"
Your nervous hands went to his shoulders for support, easily giving in to him.
"So many times. Jungkook too," he chuckled as he began burying his head in your neck, lips ghosting the sensitive skin.
Lacking any control of your body, you repositioned yourself to allow him better access to you, now fully on his lap as he sat sideways on the couch, arms wrapped fully around you and face buried in your neck.
"Gyu, I-"
"Yeah? Is this okay? Is it okay if I kiss your neck like this? This is what you wanted, right? Someone to take care of you?", he mumbled as he made his way to your ear with breathy kisses.
You were burning up, completely powerless to Mingyu. It was kind of embarrassing how easily you gave in to him. How you had been entirely unaware of his want for you until five minutes ago, yet you were now pliant in his hold, willing to listen to his senseless argument about him and Jungkook being good replacement for a relationship. You also had that to think about – the Jungkook aspect of it all.
The reminder of Jungkook's presence woke you up a bit, remembering that you were literally sitting on your best friend's lap while in your other best friend's living room.
With half a mind to let Mingyu do whatever he wanted to do with you, you powered your way through your decision to pull him away from your neck.
"Gyu, wait. Kook could get here any minute-"
"Don't stop on my account. Seemed like you were having fun without me."
Your head snapped to the door at the introduction of the raspy voice of your best friend, finding said friend leaning against the doorframe with a few drinks in one hand and a few ramen cups stacked on the other.
"Jungkook-"
"So, can someone catch me up?", he got closer, dropping off all the food he was carrying on the table and sitting next to you on the couch.
The position made it so that Jungkook was technically sitting behind you. Since you were on Mingyu's lap and sitting sideways on the couch, you were now being sandwiched by both boys. Jungkook still kept a small distance, making you have to turn around in Mingyu's hold to look at him.
While you probably embodied the image of a deer caught in headlights, Mingyu seemed completely relaxed, hands still comfortably on your waist.
"I was actually just catching Y/N up," said Mingyu, an overly cocky tone in his voice as his hands continued to feel up and down your waist.
"Oh? Without me?", chuckled Jungkook, leaning a bit closer.
"What the hell is happening?"
"How much did you tell her?", Jungkook ignored you, staring directly at Mingyu. His eyes would occasionally trail down to Mingyu's hands on your waist, a sour look overtaking his face.
It seemed like you had missed a few chapters in the friendship; there was some unspoken agreement between the two in which you were the main character. While it bothered you to think that they'd discussed you in private, the enigma of it all also excited you. Maybe it was the alcohol in your system, or maybe it was the way in which Mingyu's entire demeanor had become possessive when you brought up dating. The reason didn't matter when you were already beginning to heat up.
"Just caught her up a little on the, uh, situation," said Mingyu with an unrecognizable glint in his eyes, "Did you know she was thinking about dating?", he asked Jungkook, ignoring your presence while still having his hands on you.
Mingyu's hand had made it under your shirt by now, feeling the warm skin of your back.
"Oh? Since when?", he finally turned to you, scooting up a tiny bit more.
Due to his new proximity, you turned your head around, facing Mingyu again. That proved to be a mistake, as Mingyu was even closer to you. Jungkook also took advantage of this, braving a few more inches in closeness and letting his face come closer to your neck. He pushed your hair aside for better access, simply breathing against you as he awaited your answer.
Responding was the hardest thing in the world. Your mind was simply not working at the moment, the situation being far too intimate for you to fully function. On one side you had the huge hunk of a man that was Mingyu, warm hands against the bare skin of your back all while you sat on his leg. On the other, you had the gorgeous embodiment of a boyfriend that was Jungkook, whose fingers were now slowly running up and down your arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake while he nosed at your neck.
You had your two gorgeous best friends giving you the best type of attention all while your brain fizzled with your tipsiness.
"Answer him, baby," murmured Gyu.
"I- I just," you sighed when Jungkook began leaving feather-light kisses on your neck, "just thought about maybe getting b-back in the market? To meet someone and-"
"But you have us?", Jungkook sounded genuinely confused, seemingly unable to understand the platonic nature behind your friendship.
"That's what I said!", added Mingyu.
"But I want a boyfriend, n-not-"
"Boyfriend? Baby ...", Jungkook disconnected from you, grabbing your head to make you twist your neck in order to look at him, "That's just an upgrade. You want a boyfriend? We'll give you two. You don't need to be looking around for some loser," his eyes gradually lowered to your lips as he spoke, breath heavy against them.
"K-Kook, I-"
"Please say yes? Please just ... Let me show you? We can show you together. Right, Gyu?", he murmured, mere inches away from your mouth.
Before you knew it, you were nodding, far too desperate to voice your desire.
As embarrassing as it was to admit, you had thought of kissing Jungkook before. Being one of the prettiest boys you'd ever seen before, it was hard at first to keep your relationship with him fully platonic, having had to beat down a small crush you had developed on him at an earlier age. His kiss, however, was not something you could've ever predicted.
Even with the awkward angle, and Mingyu's hands still on you, Jungkook gave you the dizziest of kisses. He knew how to get you hooked immediately, starting with a heavy kiss that had you chasing him the moment he pulled away. With a quiet and breathy laugh, he kissed you again, languid and wet in the way his tongue snuck between your lips, seamlessly making its way into your mouth to play with yours.
Shamelessly, you moaned against his lips, hands digging into Mingyu's shoulders as he continued to hold you. The slight awkwardness of making out with Jungkook while giving your back to Mingyu, yet still holding onto him, was present in your mind. However, Jungkook's sensual yet playful way of kissing you took up most of your attention.
But you knew Mingyu to be a whiny mess of a man at times, so you knew it wouldn't be long before he attempted to regain your attention. The evidence was in the way he felt you up all throughout, hands on your breasts as he pinched at your nipples through your shirt, groaning at the feeling of your tits in his hands. Occasionally, his hands would go down to your cunt, ghosting the place where you needed the most attention before making their way back up to your chest.
Pulling you away by the waist, you were forced to separate from Jungkook, eyes still closed as your lips chased his own. This time Jungkook's lips also attempted to regain possession over yours, with his tongue catching a few last nasty licks of your own.
"It's my turn," grumbled Mingyu, making you turn back to him, "You're on my lap but kiss him only? Baby, we're supposed to share you!", he pouted.
Giggling, you got even closer to him, cradling his head in your hands as you lightly pulled at his hair.
You turned to Jungkook one quick last time, "Kookie?"
His eyes lit up at your question, giving you a view of his round eyes as he gave you his full attention.
"Scoot closer, yeah? Put your hands around me," you encouraged him, humming in contentment when he went above and beyond and began to kiss your neck in the process.
Turning back to Mingyu, there was still an ever-so-present pout on his features, making you giggle again before finally kissing his lips.
Now, Mingyu's kiss was completely different from that of Jungkook's.
You had known Mingyu for as much time as you had Jungkook. He had a bit of a reputation when you had first met, being known as a guy who would occasionally sleep around with other idols, and sometimes staff. Now at 26, he had been retired from that era of his life for a while, but you'd be lying if you didn't say he always made you wonder. He always had all the girls swooning, instantly falling in love with his outgoing persona and his incomparable charisma. His looks also did not help matters. Being so handsome and likable, you occasionally fell victim to his charms, sometimes needing to snap yourself out of R rated thoughts you'd have about him on nights you were feeling particularly lonely.
His kiss felt exactly the way he looked. It was rich and insanely hot. Mingyu made love to your mouth, using his tongue in ways you didn't know a man could. He was domineering in the way he kissed you, with a firm hand on your jaw so he could position you in a way that allowed him to kiss you just the way he liked. And he liked it nasty. He liked it wet and filthy and in a way that made you sure you'd cum if he kissed you for a little too long.
You could barely catch up to the situation, having one gorgeous man fucking your mouth with his tongue while the other suckled at the most sensitive spots of your neck. In the meantime, your cunt was gushing with essence, already so extremely wet you were beginning to squirm in Mingyu's hold.
You attempted to pull away once, only to be enticed into kissing Mingyu again as he groaned against you, tongue seducing yours once more. You attempted to pull away twice, having his arms wrap tighter around you. The third time is when you finally succeeded, whining against Mingyu's mouth that you needed more. This caused yet another groan to come out of Mingyu, only to be echoed by Jungkook's own groan against your neck.
They both disconnected from you, looking to each other in a decisive manner, almost as if to formulate a game plan.
"I want her first," said Jungkook, slapping Mingyu's hands away from you and attempting to move you onto his lap.
Mingyu stopped him, holding you tighter against him as he rebutted, "You? She's already on my lap. I should have her first."
"Dude, I'm about to blow up. Just let me fuck her and then you can have her while I recover," be argued, hands fighting Mingyu's off of you.
"Why can't I choose?", you butt in, annoyed.
Their demeanors swiftly changed at your interruption, both pairs of hands now touching either your waist or thighs in an intimate yet caring manner.
"What do you want, pretty? My cock? Hmm?", asked Mingyu with a sweet voice in an attempt to convince you. Meanwhile, Jungkook wordlessly kissed at your neck again, nibbling at your ear and smirking at how you shuddered at the feeling.
"I-", you were already lightheaded again, "I wanna suck your dick, Gyu. Want Kookie to fuck me while I suck your dick," you murmured, hand holding Jungkook's head against your neck to keep his kisses coming.
Mingyu groaned at this, nodding absentmindedly. He began to shift, attempting to get up in order to get himself ready for you, but you stopped him.
"Undress me? Both of you?", you asked in the softest voice you could muster. You wanted both their hands on you at once, feeling your nude body for the first time. You knew their desire for you was already clouding their minds, so you wanted to do everything in your power to relish in every single touch, every look filled with lust they would give you.
Without another word, both boys got up, standing you up with them. Their hands were messy and uncoordinated as they got every garment off you, feeling you up in the process. Your breasts were groped and fondled multiple times in the process, while Jungkook pressed your ass up against him any chance he could, groaning at the slight stimulation.
Finally undressed, you decided to turn around once more, facing Jungkook as you kissed him with no warning. You smirked into his mouth when you felt Mingyu grab you from behind and press your ass up against him, grinding slowly against you. You knew it wasn't enough to get him anywhere, but you enjoyed knowing he was needy enough to use you in such a fruitless way just for a little stimulation.
Meanwhile, your hands went straight to Jungkook's oversized top, hands sneaking underneath to feel up his muscular form, hands harshly rubbing on his strong chest. It seemed Jungkook was overly sensitive to your touch. He whined needy breaths into your mouth as you felt him up. Taking off his shirt, you moaned as you saw the gorgeous figure of your best friend.
God, he was the prettiest thing you'd ever seen. You couldn't wait until you saw the rest of his pretty body, sculpted by the endless hours of work you knew he always put into the gym. The endless hours in which you had accompanied him to said gym, always having to look away before you started to have inpure thoughts of your best friend.
He helped you in the removing of his pants and boxers, throwing his head back when your hands immediately went to find his cock and play with it. Burying his head in your neck, he groaned against your skin, whining at the feeling of your hands finally wrapped around him after having wanted you for so long.
Behind you, you heard shuffling, assuming Mingyu to have been removing his own clothes as he waited for his turn of your attention to come. You felt badly at leaving him hanging for too long, knowing him to have an overly impatient disposition when he didn't receive attention for extended periods of time.
Playing with Jungkook's cock just for a little longer, you gave him one last kiss before turning around and trapping Mingyu in his own kiss. Unlike with Jungkook, you didn't linger long, opting instead to push him down the large conversation pit – thank god for Jungkook's insanely big mansion – located just a few steps away from the couch where it had all begun. This way you could have all the space you wanted to play with your friends.
Now lying down, Mingyu looked you up and down like you were his next prey, licking his lips at the sight and motioning at you to come sit on him despite knowing that you wanted something else.
"C'mon, baby. Ditch him. Don't you want me instead?," he leaned upwards to try and convince you of sitting on him.
It was hard to deny him with his cock staring up at you in such a challenging manner. He was equally as gorgeous as your other bestie, but in so many different ways. Mingyu was so big and thick and buff, he had you salivating at the mere sight of him. He was so toned yet so thick, and his dick matched perfectly. God, the thought of that monster inside you had your eyes rolling back already. Did he really mean it when he said he'd be yours? That he and Jungkook would share you? The idea of a boyfriend sounded stupid in retrospect.
Despite all your better judgment telling you to jump Mingyu and let him impale you with his cock right then and there, you knew that starting off with Jungkook would give you a better buildup. You also knew that based on Jungkook's competitive personality, he'd become even whinier than Mingyu if you didn't let him take care of you first.
Fully determined, you turned back to Jungkook, who had been standing there in a trance, now having a better view of your body and keeping his eyes religiously glued to it. You grabbed onto him and walked yourself back to the large conversation pit, eyes glued to Jungkook's in a seductive manner as you guided him to the area in which Mingyu was already lying down. In only a few seconds, you let go of Jungkook and positioned yourself in front of Mingyu at an eye level with his cock while he sat up and looked down at you with a pained look in his eyes. In all fours, your back faced Jungkook, hinting at him to get behind you so that you could finally get back to business.
With a groan, Jungkook knelt behind you, needy hands feeling the curve of your back as he pushed you up against him. In the meantime, you began softly playing with Mingyu's cock, making him throw his head back at finally receiving some attention where he'd been craving it for so long.
"You're so pretty, fuck ... No one deserves you, baby. Too fucking pretty n perfect n fuck ... Can I fuck you now, pretty? Hmm? Let me have this pretty pussy while you suck off your bestie," rambled Jungkook from behind you, head lowered so he could kiss at your hips.
You whined and pushed up your ass against him, giving him the green light to do whatever he wanted, when suddenly he stopped.
"Fuck, wait. Condom?", he asked, making Mingyu groan, as you were about to engulf him in your mouth but also halted your movements to tend to Jungkook's question.
"It's okay, Kookie. The company put me on some new birth control. You can fuck me raw," you smirked up at Mingyu, giggling at yet another groan of his.
"He gets you raw? Baby, I'm the one who started all this! How's that fair?", he huffed.
Taking a quick separation from Jungkook, you gestured for Mingyu to lean down so he could meet you halfway. With a wet kiss, you made your way to his ear and whispered against it.
"I'm saving you for last, baby. Gonna ride you til I cry ... Now be good and cum in my mouth?"
He groaned so loudly his entire body vibrated under you as you crawled your way back to your previous position. Jungkook simply laughed at the interaction.
Feeling you up once more, Jungkook finally grabbed onto his cock and lined himself up, groaning at the gushing wetness that coated his cock as he entered you. Your own moan was masked by Mingyu's cock, which you were currently working into your mouth.
"Oh, fuck ... It's so tight, baby ... It's so fuckin' warm n tight n so pretty, baby. Such a pretty cunt," babbled Jungkook, immediately pussydrunk.
Could he be blamed? He had wanted you for years. From the moment he met you, he cursed at himself for being so damn shy and initiating a friendship with you rather than showing you his interest. His members constantly teased him over it, even so many years into his crush. When he first found out Mingyu also had similar ideas in mind, he felt conflicted. But he ultimately grew close enough to the two of you to the point where he wouldn't mind sharing you with his bestest of friends.
Your muffled moans completely took him out of it, taking away any ability to think or speak. He simply chased after you with his hips, canting them against your own as you pushed back against him.
"Is it good, pretty? Like my cock?" he winced at the way you tightened any time he'd speak to you.
"So good, Kookie. So big ...," you pulled away from Mingyu to breathe before going back to licking and sucking at his tip, moaning against him as his eyes rolled back.
You were practically centipede in Jungkook's living room, with Mingyu lying on his back as you gagged on his cock and Jungkook pounding into you from behind. All your senses were overtaken by the mindless quest for pleasure you had all taken on.
"You're so good with your mouth, pretty ... Fuck, look so pretty stuffed of cock," Mingyu gasped, throwing his head back, "Like how he fucks you, baby? Just wait til I get to you ... Gonna stuff that pretty pussy so good ..."
You moaned against his cock, already thirsty for him even as Jungkook continued to ram into you. Pushing your ass back against him, you felt Jungkook's nails dig into the skin of your hips, adoring how malleable you were for him.
"Baby ... 'm gonna cum soon ... Feels so fucking good, pretty. You're so fucking g-good for me. Wanted you so fuckin' bad, you have no idea ..." murmured Jungkook as he entered his high, hips lacking any control in their movements.
Jungkook had always been the most sensible of the bunch, never holding back from expressing how strongly he felt for the people in his life. The pleasure must've been so much that it made him unfiltered in revealing the undeniable effect you had on him.
"W-where do I cum? Fuck, gonna fucking cum, it's so good, baby. Take it so good for me, shit ..."
You were too busy gagging on cock to respond right away, so you had to take a minute to pull away and catch your breath, replacing your mouth with your hand while also holding yourself up with the other one.
"Inside? Cum inside, Kookie. I'll- I'll cum too," you were breathless, barely able to get the words out as a petulant Mingyu whined at you to help him finish, hands going behind your head and lightly encouraging you to get your mouth back on him.
"Inside? Fuck, okay, baby. Gonna fill you up, yeah?", he groaned, muttering to himself right afterwards, "Fucking finally ..."
His hips sped up drastically as his high approached, making you choke around Mingyu not just due to his girth, but due to the intense ramming against your ass. Though harsh and with an unmatchable energy, you continued to try and push your hips back toward his own, wanting to milk him dry as your own high invaded your senses.
His desperation for you made you feel so incredibly good, like you were the prettiest girl to ever exist. It made you arch your back a little deeper, take a little more of Gyu's cock, dig your nails a little harsher into the cushion of the conversation pit. You heightened all your actions just to feel him a little more.
And then it reached its crescendo. All while Jungkook whimpered and cried at how sensitive he felt at your tightening walls, Mingyu also found his own high. You were too distracted with your own orgasm to acknowledge him asking you for permission to cum in your mouth, instead suctioning more intensely to wordlessly give him an enthusiastic yes, please fill up my mouth with your cum.
By the time Mingyu filled up your mouth, Jungkook had already finished his high, now kneeling behind you as he peppered kisses all over your back and hips, whispering against you how good you had been for him and how pretty you looked with his cum leaking out of you. Fully drunk on the aftermath of his high, Jungkook loved on you like any lover would.
In the meantime, you attempted to swallow every bit of Mingyu's essence, moaning against his cock afterwards as you licked at every lone drop that made it out of your mouth.
By the end of it, you were all completely spent. Each of you dropped one by one, with Jungkook lying on his back as he caught his breath, you falling onto Mingyu, and Mingyu attempting to pull you up to climb his body so that he could kiss you again.
With the very little energy you had regained, you crawled up Mingyu's body, making out with him as he attempted to lick his way into your mouth in order to taste himself in your mouth. Kissing evolved into feeling each other up, which then became grinding your now sensitive pelvises against each other. Surprisingly, Mingyu was still half-hard, which gave you the perfect surface to grind your cunt into. He sat up, making you sit up with him before beginning to leave kisses on the side of your neck.
"Baby? Gonna ride me like you said, right? Just .. Fuck, want that pretty pussy, baby. It's my turn to have that tiny little cunt wrapped around me, yeah?", he murmured between kisses.
You gave in to him easily, gasping at every word that accompanied every kiss.
Nodding mindlessly, you almost forgot to think back to Jungkook, who was probably still recovering from his orgasm.
"W-what about Kookie?," you mumbled when Mingyu began positioning you above his cock.
"Don't worry about me, pretty. Just enjoying the view", you turned back to see Jungkook lying back on his elbows, one hand on his semi-flacid cock as he began to work himself up at the sight of you sitting on your best friend.
Well, that worked well enough for you.
"Now pay attention to me, princess. Been ignoring me all day today," Mingyu grabbed onto your chin to make you look at him, thumb softly rubbing at your chin as he tilted your head back.
You were insanely wet by now, not only from your orgasm but also from just Mingyu's mere presence. Knowing how intense and touchy Mingyu always was in PG scenarios, you couldn't help your eyes rolling back at the thought of him between the sheets. His heavy cock on your tongue had been enough of a taste to know how good it'd feel when finally inside you.
His strong hands lifted you up a bit, rescuing his dick from under you as he helped you position it under you, holding tightly onto your hips when you began to lower yourself down. You would've moaned and whined at the immense stretch, but Mingyu had different plans for your mouth. His thick fingers slipped into your mouth, making you gag a bit before you began sucking on them.
Too many things were on your mind, with all your senses being invaded by Mingyu – though also accompanied by Jungkook's low moans of pleasure behind you. Even as your body was bouncing against Mingyu's, attempting to match his thrusts, your head was completely empty of any thought. All you could think about was Mingyu, and his cock, and his fingers, and his pretty body, and and and-
"Feel good, princess? Love my cock, hmm? Tell me how much you like my cock, angel," he groaned as he took his fingers out of your mouth, using the wet fingertips to tweak at your nipple as his mouth engulfed the opposite one.
"So much ... It's so big. Fuck, Gyu, you're s-so big ..."
Barely able to formulate words, you cried as Mingyu helped you bounce on him, occasionally opting to grind in a way that made your clit get the perfect stimulation. It all felt too good. Mingyu's gigantic hands on your body while his lips suckled on your tits as Jungkook groaned so prettily behind you. You were far too sensitive and alert to hold back from the life-altering orgasm that was to come. So, you voiced this concern to Mingyu.
His response came in the form of flipping you around and trapping you underneath him. His big hands held onto your waist, lifting you a bit so he could angle himself just right. Eyes rolling back and nails digging onto the bed, you lost yourself in him. Jungkook seemed to be completely lost to pleasure also. You could finally see him after Mingyu flipped you over, and fuck ... He looked so desperate, so depraved in the way he hammered into his cock, mouth permanently agape as he let out little praises to you.
"I need you to cum for me, okay, princess? Show Jungkook how good I make you feel. Need you to milk me dry, yeah? Can you do that for me?", he dumbly talked down at you with a tone that could only be seen as patronizing in any other context. But here, you loved it. You loved how dumbly he treated you. Because it was true. You could not think, you could not speak. Your senses were all gone and replaced by a constant stream of cock cock cock as Mingyu finally made you reach your orgasm.
Mingyu played with you through the entirety of your orgasm, rubbing at your clit with one hand while holding you with the other, his lips constantly attached to your tits.
"G-gyu, I- fuck! C-cumming! Please, I-" you had no idea what you were begging for as your orgasm completely took over, making you tighten around Mingyu as he mumbled into your chest, letting you know of his own impending high.
Despite having already had an equally fulfilling orgasm, this second one brought out a new sensitivity in you. Falling under Mingyu, you whimpered at the way he flipped you over again to lay on his chest, caressing your back and pressed you up against him, even more when Jungkook laid beside you and softly ran his hands through your hair.
The three of you laid there together, with you halfway laying on Mingyu while Jungkook laid on the opposite side of you, cuddling into you. Behind you, you could feel Jungkook's flacid member, meaning he had also reached a second high along with you and Mingyu. Lying there together, completely sober now, you eventually let sleep take over you, nuzzling into both boys in a satisfied manner.
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A few days passed by since your encounter with the 97s. They were pretty eventful as far as your job went, attending a few photoshoots and practicing constantly for whatever new activity was coming up for your group. However, things between you and your friends had remained stagnant. You didn't think they had ghosted you or anything like that, but the timing of your busy schedules picking up right after breaking your platonic relationship did make you anxious.
When you'd woken up that next day, Mingyu was gone, having left one of the packs of ramen cooked and ready for you with a note attached detailing how much he enjoyed last night, saying he had wanted to stay and say goodbye but had a a schedule that had been calling for him. It was signed with his name and a little heart.
Jungkook had been half-awake already, having carried you to his bed when he had woken up, right after Mingyu's departure. You had wanted to talk about last night, but also had a schedule over at the company, so you left after cuddling with a sleepy Jungkook for a short while, not really discussing anything, yet sharing a sweet kiss as a goodbye for the day.
And so you hadn't really seen them since then. It was the unfortunate reality of idol life. That night had been the first in a few weeks in which you'd even been able to see each other. You were unsure when the next one would come, but you needed it to be soon. The remembrance of that night kept messing with your head, especially any time you'd see either of your friends in passing at the Hybe building, never being free long enough for a worthy interaction.
On the fourth night since the incident, you finally had more time off for yourself, hoping maybe they did too. Mingyu got ahead of you in that aspect, texting you the previous night, somehow aware of your time off, and asking you over. There was no deeper interpretation to be had in his message, as it was pretty straightforward. Nervous as to whether to expect a repeat of last time or a conversation about it, you let him know you'd be there.
Jungkook and Mingyu had always been closer to each other than to you. Going out together was always easier for them since no scandalous rumors would arise from it. They were also often in the same friend groups, knowing more male idols than you did due to the nature of the industry. It was easy for you to assume that they had already spoken about what had happened, even before it happened. Throughout the night, they kept referencing some type of agreement they'd had regarding you and dating. It was hard to assume, but you wondered if they meant sharing you – as strange as it sounded.
Your questions would only be answered tonight, leading you to some anxiety before finally arriving to Mingyu's.
~
"I missed you," were Mingyu's first words when he welcomed you, trapping you in a warm hug as he usually did. Hugging Mingyu was, in your opinion, one of your life's greatest privileges. He was so big and strong, it always felt like being completely engulfed in the safest of spaces.
His hug was followed by one of Jungkook's, less tight in nature but just as rewarding. He held onto your waist and nuzzled against you, always attempting to bury himself in whoever he held in his arms.
Quietly, they guided you to Mingyu's living room, slightly smaller than Jungkook's but still very much reminiscent of a millionaire's home.
You looked over to the coffee table, tilting your head in confusion at the presence of cans of diet soda rather than the usual alcohol Mingyu would always provide. Sensing your confusion, Mingyu chuckled.
"No alcohol today. Thought you might wanna talk about what happened," he sat down on the couch, patting the empty space next to him so you'd join him. Behind to you, Jungkook joined, sitting on a lone seat facing you and Mingyu. No matter where you looked, the two boys would be in front of you.
"We've been keeping you in the dark, huh?," pondered Jungkook, handing you a freshly opened can of soda, "Sorry about that. No easy way to tell your best friend you're into her."
Oh. He was going straight to the point.
"I like you, if that wasn't clear already," he let out a breathless chuckle, attempting to hold eye contact but failing.
He was much better at this when he was working his way into your pants.
"And so do I," interrupted Mingyu.
Wait.
"Are you-"
"We both like you."
"I- Have you talked about this?"
"Uh, it's come up, yeah," Mingyu scratched the back of his neck.
"I don't really know what to say ..."
"We just ... You had fun the other night, right?"
"Yeah, I mean, it was great," you took a breath, "but we're friends. Right?"
You weren't sure if you were being rational or not. Did you like Mingyu and Jungkook? Sure. But together? At the same time? You had never considered such type of relationship.
"We- we don't have to be just friends," added Jungkook, not much confidence in his voice. He cleared his throat and tried again, "We like you, and we know that you like us back. Maybe not in the same way, but you do. That night would've gone very differently if you didn't."
You could've lied. You could've lied and left it off as an amazing one night stand with your two best friends. But the thought of never feeling what you felt that night ever again was not something you wanted to risk. It wasn't just about the pleasure. You had meant what you said that night; you wanted a stable relationship. You wanted someone to call a best friend, but be more than that. Someone to hold you at night. The three of you had always been glued by the hip, but you had never really thought of what it'd be like to take the next step – to have them be that person (or those people).
There were just too many questions in your head. Would this change your relationship negatively? Would they actually want to share you? Would this go anywhere?
You opted for answering Jungkook's question with another question.
"Are you okay with both of you liking me?"
They looked at each other for a moment before Mingyu ultimately answered.
"We've discussed it," he started, "When we first realized we both liked you, it did cause some tension. But the closer we got to you, the more we realized that we just wanted to be with you. Whether as friends or as more, we just wanted you."
You gulped at the confession, feeling your face heating up all of the sudden.
"I- I don't know what to say, I- I like you too. Both of you. I always thought that it was just as friends, but ... there'd be moments where I'd wonder. And after that night, I just-"
Jungkook leaned forwards, grabbing onto your hands. He smiled, ignoring most of your words and paying attention to what he cared about the most – you liked him.
"You like me back? Us? Do you- We could treat you so right. I- I've wanted you since we met. I've liked you for so long and ... Not just for sex. We could be more," his words were slightly frantic in nature, almost as if he wanted to sell something to you.
He didn't need any selling. You liked him. It became more and more glaring by the minute.
"Nothing has to change. We've been friends for this long. Just ... That guy you're looking for? To settle down with? That could be us," added Mingyu, placing a palm on your thigh for reassurance.
"What happens if I say yes?"
Mingyu's eyes grew dark.
"Do you want the PG version?"
You shook your head, mouth agape as you looked to Mingyu.
His face lit up as he leaned closer and closer to you, lips approaching the sensitive spots he had discovered on your neck just a few days ago. Stopping for just one moment, he looked to Jungkook to gesture he sit opposite of you, making you become sandwiched by both men yet again.
Now with both boys kissing down your neck, you allowed your head to rest against the back of the couch, attempting to fight the shudders escaping your body at the sensation.
"As our girlfriend ... we'd take you on dates," Mingyu sucked at a particularly sensitive spot, licking at it afterwards, "buy you pretty gifts, keep you warm at night," he took a pause, licking up the length of your neck, "take care of you every day."
Jungkook continued from where Mingyu left off, leaving soft whispers of kisses under your ear, "We share you. We take you home, cook for you, protect you," he nipped at your lobe, "We love you like no one else could ever imagine."
By now, you were gone. Through their whispered promises, their hands had decided to intrude your space yet again. Jungkook's had found a home between your legs, running up your skirt and gracing at your cunt, but only enough to have you puffing out breaths of desire. Mingyu's had migrated upwards, lowering the straps of your dress and liberating your breasts, hands needy as they pulled and tweaked at your nipples.
"What do you say, princess?", Mingyu pulled away, lips reaching your own, "Wanna have two boyfriends?", he pecked at your lips sensually.
"Mhmm ...", you nodded pathetically, not trusting your voice.
Jungkook groaned at your answer, hand finally slipping inside your panties, "Good girl ..."
"Fuck, gonna treat you so good, gorgeous," said Mingyu, continuing to kiss at your lips tongue seeking your own.
His lips trailed down to your breasts, sensually licking at your nipples, gradually giving them more and more attention. By the end of it, you were crying at the sensitivity.
Jungkook continued to play with your cunt, driving his fingers through your folds at a rhythmic pace that made your hips take a mind of their own, grinding upwards with a complete lack of coordination.
You were so focused on Jungkook's fingers that you didn't notice Mingyu making his way down your body, now kneeling between your legs as his lips made their way up your thighs, marking them to his heart's contentment.
"So fucking pretty ... Been wanting your pretty thighs around my head for years, princess ...", he mumbled to himself, nosing his way towards your cunt. When he finally arrived, he nudged Jungkook's finger's away, sticking his nose against your cunt as he took a shameless whiff of your scent, groaning gruttaly against you.
"So good ... Fuck, need this pretty cunt so bad. Can I have it, baby? Hmm? Let me have a taste of this pretty pussy?" he asked between depraved licks of your cunt through your panties.
Hiccuping back a sob, you nodded, opening your legs wider as you took a hold of Jungkook's hand for support.
Needing no further confirmation, Mingyu went straight into your cunt, ignoring the obstacle of your panties by pushing them aside. In the meantime, Jungkook's hand went to your chin, turning your whiny lips to his own and giving you a languid kiss. His tongue played with your own, taking advantage of your constant cries of pleasure to suck at your tongue and bite your lips as much as he desired.
Your hands went from holding onto Jungkook for support to his pants, undoing the drawstring as he continued to kiss you. With shaky hands, you snuck your hands in, pulling out his hardened cock as you began to jerk it in your hand. Now you were even; equally pathetic cries being released into each other's mouths as you both chased your highs.
Beneath you, you almost missed the way Mingyu's hips began humping against the couch, groans being released into your cunt due to the stimulation. You were far too distraed by kissing Jungkook, but Mingyu's eyes were rolled all the way back as his hips became uncontrollable, cumming in his boxers just moments before he licked you to completion.
Even as you came, Mingyu's lips didn't leave your cunt, just as yours stayed on Jungkook's. The room was a mess of wet sounds of tongues as Mingyu finally separated himself from you to take a breath.
"Prettiest fucking cunt," he mumbled to himself as he let himself lay on the floor of his living room in exhaustion.
"C-cum! 'm gonna cum ...", Jungkook managed to mumble against your lips, attempting to pull back but being enticed by your lips to continue kissing. Your hands sped up at his warning, warning his pretty seed to coat your hands as he reached his nirvana.
With a last groan, Jungkook froze against you while riding his high, hips pathetic in their movements against your hand. Bringing up your hand to your lips, you made a show of licking the remnants of cum, grinning when you beard a unison of groans from both boys.
Out of breath, Jungkook leaned against you, cuddling into you with a satisfied yet smile.
"So, was that a yes?"
Mingyu made his way to the couch again, taking up the last bit of personal space you had.
You chuckled.
"Yes. That was a yes."
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to read short 2.7k word continuation (+ all other previously written bonus content) you can go join my monthly tier on kofi or patreon!
content: smut, oral (f receiving), jerking off, cucking, penetrative sex, reunion sex, etc.
wc: 296 (teaser); 2770 (full drabble)
sneak peak:
"Fuck, missed you so much. You have no idea," whispered Jungkook against your neck.
After having cornered you in one of Hybe's many endless hallways, Jungkook had grabbed you by the hand and led you to an empty changing room, pushing you up against the door and burying his face in your neck. It was mostly innocent, sans the feathery kisses down your neck. His hands were still in appropriate places.
"I was only gone for a month," you giggled against him.
"A month too long. Do you know how annoying Mingyu gets when you're not around? Jesus Christ," he groaned in mock annoyance, refusing to separate from your neck.
Breathing you in, he hummed, arms wrapping impossibly tighter around you.
"Where is he, by the way?"
"What, not enough attention from one of your boyfriends?", he softly bit at your neck in defiance, licking at the mark he left when you jumped in surprise.
"No! Just ... Missed seeing you two together."
After only a month of entering a romantic relationship, you were embarrassed to admit, but you had become quite needy, always wanting them around. This had led to a few problems within your company, which was blissfully unaware of your three-way relationship, but still had to deal with how much closer you had gotten – especially in public. There had been a few more rumors as of late, though none actually traced back to anything credible.
"He's at the gym. Should be here any minute, though, since he knows you're back."
"Hmm," you hummed, disconnecting him from your neck despite his complaints, "Wanna start without him?" you grinned.
With a boyish nod and a peak of his bunny teeth, the pretty boy agreed, dragging you over to one of the empty couches in the room.
...
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1K notes · View notes
pathologicalreid · 2 days
Text
gemini | S.R.
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two emotionally wrought people collide at a wedding, and a sexual escapade ensues.
who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: smut (18+ mdni) content warnings: softdom!spencer, use of the term "good girl" (i couldn't help myself), unprotected sex, reader on bc, alcohol, spoilers for 14x15 truth or dare, lowkey idiots in love, fucking against a wall?, fingering, heavy petting, r has an oral fixation, r is wearing a dress and makeup, explicit consent (hot), public sex, i think that's all word count: 3.42k a/n: this is a little self-indulgent and i don't care! based on literally just the first line of the song gemini by del water gap. probably not ever gonna get a part two. i've never done angsty smut (smangst?) before, so this was fun.
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so, here's the setting, we met fucked up at a wedding
Swirling the drink you held in your hand, you watched your friends as they chatted. The pink liquid in the cup, concocted by Penelope Garcia, was far too sweet for your taste, but you needed the liquid courage to make it through the wedding.
It wasn’t that you weren’t happy for Krystall and Dave. It was that weddings oftentimes left a bitter taste in your mouth – one so bitter that not even Penelope’s drink could offset it.
In your periphery, you saw a blur of purple in the corner, looking up to see Spencer. His hand still bandaged from his most recent brush with death, he used his free one to grip a glass of water. Raising your eyebrows, you gave him your best attempt at a smile before you greeted him, “You look good, Dr. Reid.”
He was fully donned in his favorite color, and you tried to pretend that you didn’t notice that your dress matched the purple hue of his suit. “Thanks,” he said shortly, not quite meeting your eyes.
Noting the way he was looking past you, you demurely leaned your head down, glancing over your shoulder so that you could see what he was looking at, only to see JJ. She looked gorgeous in her red dress, laughing at something her husband said before her eyes caught something.
She was staring back at Spencer, and not for the first time, you found yourself wondering what happened in that pawn shop. Bringing your eyes back up to Reid, you watched the confused look in his eyes bloom as he peeled his eyes away from JJ.
Sick of it, you spoke up, “Alright, I had dibs on being the mopey one tonight. What’s wrong?” You had wanted to brush it off as long-lasting nerves from the hostage situation, but he was acting strange.
You knew you weren’t his best friend, that was a title that JJ had been the reigning champion of since the beginning of time. Yet, you still noticed the rigidity in Spencer’s shoulders as he displayed a clear discomfort with his surroundings. You tried to think of something to say to him. How could you ask him if he wanted to get out of here without it sounding like a sexual proposition?
“JJ told me she loved me,” he said, his voice so low you weren’t even sure you had heard him correctly.
Your head snapped up, “Oh.” Swallowing thickly, you tilted your head curiously, letting loose hair tumble to the side. “Do you love her?” Likely not the right conversation for the wedding of everyone’s favorite right-person-wrong-time couple, but you were desperate for a rope to pull yourself out of your wallowing.
He took a sip of his water before setting the empty glass on the bar counter, “I did.” The admission hit you like a ton of bricks, until her continued, “but now…”
Filling in the blanks, you shrugged, “She’s married. They have kids.” Spencer was always doing the right thing, so pushing his feelings aside for the sake of JJ’s family made the most sense.
Furrowing his brows, he pondered this for a moment before speaking, “It’s not just that. I have feelings for someone else.”
“Oh,” you repeated, and somehow the thought of him being in love with an unfamiliar figure hurt more than him being in love with your mutual friend.
The both of you let the conversation lag, watching as Penelope came back up to the bar and poured more drinks. After she accused you of being boring for not wanting another drink, everyone returned to the tables. “Have you dated anyone since him?”
You choked on your newly acquired water, cupping your hand underneath your jaw in an attempt to stop water from getting on your dress. “Uh, no. I’ve kind of sworn off dating ever since,” you replied, shaking your hand out and letting water droplets fall to the floor.
Sighing, you slouched in your seat, remembering that all you’d ever be was a jaded bride. Left by your fiancé on the day of your wedding, doomed to never love again. Until you met Spencer Reid.
“For everyone?” Spencer asked, and you cursed his natural curiosity.
His question caught you off guard. Despite yourself, you shook your head, “I have like… one person who, if they asked me, I’d say yes.” Your skin started to feel warm, and you weren’t sure if it was your proximity to him or Penelope’s drink coming back with a vengeance.
Spencer stepped a little closer to you, leaning casually on the counter as if he wasn’t affecting your ability to focus. “Who’s your person?” The question was innocent enough that it made your heart ache.
“It doesn’t matter, he’s into someone else,” you told him, reaching behind your neck to pull your hair up, haphazardly twisting it. You didn’t have a hair tie, so you let the locks fall once you felt some semblance of relief.
This statement seemingly bothered Spencer because he looked into his glass, “Did he tell you that?”
Nodding, you chewed on the inside of your lip. “Yeah,” maybe not in so many words, Spencer was rarely crass enough to say he was into someone, but you understood well enough.
The conversation lagged between the two of you once again, your own private thoughts were only interrupted when the music changed. It was a slow song, one for the couples of the night to dance to.
You took a chance, “Do you want to go explore the building with me? It’s getting stuffy in here,” you said, taking one final swig of your water before jumping up from your stool.
He looked back at JJ, who was there with Will, and then forward to the girl who was asking to take him away, “Yes.”
David Rossi had spared no expense for his second wedding to his third wife, and the manor that you found yourself meandering within felt never-ending. Something about following Spencer as he led the way and told you facts about the history of the building felt so normal, and you wondered if it would hurt when the night was over. Maybe this would just end as another memory to loathe about weddings.
Trailing him into another room, you stumbled into his back. Quickly, Spencer spun back and caught you before you could fall to the ground.
Steadying yourself, your heart thrummed at the way he was touching you, tightly holding your waist so that you wouldn’t trip. Once you were no longer wobbling, Spencer reached up and gingerly lifted the fallen spaghetti strap of your dress back over your shoulder. Before you had fully thought out your actions, you leaned up on your tip toes and kissed him.
It was hesitant and gentle, but once you registered that you were kissing him you soon realized that he was kissing you back. What started out as a small peck on the lips quickly morphed into full, open-mouthed kisses.
You thought Spencer might eat you alive, and for a moment, you thought you might let him.
Without separating your lips, he herded you over to the wall, pinning your hips to the wall as you felt heat grow between your legs.
Pulling at your bottom lip with his teeth, Spencer pulled away ever so slightly, your faces just inches apart. “Is this okay?” He asked you, his eyes flickering down to your lips like he was holding himself back from kissing you again.
There was fear. A fear that if you moved forward tonight, nothing would ever be the same, but you took a chance  and nodded quickly, “Yes.”
Your answer acted as a release as Spencer dropped his head back down and the two of you reattached your lips. Despite your attempts to ignore it, you felt his hardened length pressing into you through several layers of clothes.
Twisting your head away, you gasped as Spencer took the opportunity to place his lips on your neck, gently suckling on the tender skin as you tried to catch your breath. “Are you sure about this?” You breathed, running your hands underneath his suit jacket, wanting nothing more than to push it off of him.
“Yes,” he answered, giving you the same consent that you had already given him, and it was enough for you to reach for his belt buckle. No matter how badly you wanted to see him entirely bare in front of you, this just wasn’t the place for it.
Gently, you slid your hand down his front, savoring the way his breath hitched against your neck as your fingertips precariously lifted the waistband of his boxers. He gently nipped at your earlobe as you wrapped your hand around the base of his cock.
You let your head fall backward, allowing him better access to your neck as you moved your hand. Moving your hand up so that you could swipe your thumb over the tip.
You dragged your other hand down, pulling his boxers down so that you could get a good look at what you were working with, and biting your lip at the sight of it. Slowly, you started to pump his impressive length, noting how his breathing patterns changed with your movements.
Dragging a knuckle up the underside of him, he dropped his head to your shoulder as you collected his pre-cum on your index finger on your way up, bringing your hand up to your mouth and licking the droplet off, peering up at him.
“You’re so good at that, baby,” he told you, sighing as he reached up and placed his hand on the side of your neck, skimming his thumb over your jawline as his free hand started to make its way up your dress, pausing when he only met bare skin. “No underwear?” He questioned, furrowing his brow at you as you bit your lip, trying to refrain from pressing into his hand.
Whimpering almost indiscriminately, you shook your head, “Couldn’t, panty lines would show under the dress.”
Spencer hummed in recognition, moving his hand up to cup your sex so that you could feel your own wetness on his hand. A pathetic whine escaped your throat as your walls clenched with need, still stopping yourself from grinding on his hand. “What do you need?” He asked, a teasing lilt in his voice, “Come on, you can tell me.”
“You, please,” you answered, your voice dangerously bordering on pleading. “Your hands, anything,” you squeaked out, breathing heavily as you awaited his next move.
Gently, he slipped a finger inside your wet hole, causing you to release a satisfied sigh. “You’re so wet,” he whispered in your ear as you tilted your head back and pressed your lips to his.
As his hand picked up in pace, so did your breathing. With each movement of his hand, you struggled to keep your volume at a respectable level, small whimpers continued escaping you even as you bit down on the inside of your lip. “Spence,” you whined, moaning aloud as he slipped a second finger into you, “Oh, god.”
The silence of the room around you only exacerbated the wet sounds that were emanating from your sex, and if it didn’t feel so good, you might’ve been embarrassed. In fact, as you felt a familiar coil winding in your abdomen, you found that you didn’t have the capacity to feel anything other than pleasure.
Crying out, you nodded as Spencer continued to thrust his fingers in and out of you, “Fuck,” you said, caring less about your volume levels. Even less so when he responded by pressing the heel of his hand against your clit, the pressure proving to be enough to send you over the edge.
“It’s okay,” Spencer whispered in your ear, “Let it go for me, baby.” His words continued as you felt your walls spasming around his fingers, his ministrations had slowed, but he worked you through your orgasm before withdrawing his fingers and lifting them up to your mouth.
Accepting the invitation, you leaned forward and sucked the sweet juices off of his hand, slipping your tongue between his two fingers as you looked up at him. You half expected him to be watching you with lust-blown eyes, but he was watching you just as attentively as he had when you started this escapade.
He retrieved his fingers from your mouth with a satisfying pop and reached down to ruche the fabric of your dress up around your waist. “Wait,” he said suddenly, gripping the silky cloth, “I don’t have a condom.”
Your eyes widened and you shook your head, “I don’t mind.” Still breathing heavy from your previous orgasm, you shook your head again, “I mean. I’m on birth control – and I’m good at it. I mean I keep up with it.” Now babbling, you hoped he’d say something. “I’m clean. I trust you.”
Nodding in understanding, he placed a hand on the side of your neck and looked at you intently. “I’m not going to do anything until you catch your breath,” he told you, taking up an authoritative tone.
Blinking rapidly, you evened out your breathing as he ran his hand up and down your torso, “I’m sorry,” you whispered, taking another deep breath as you looked up at him.
Spencer shook his head, “Don’t be sorry.” He leaned his head down, pressing soft kisses down the side of your neck as you finally pushed his jacket off of his shoulders. “You’re so pretty,” he murmured, leaning down to grip the backs of your thighs.
“It’s okay if you can’t lift me,” you rambled quickly, getting his attention as you aired your concern.
He raised his eyebrows expectantly, pressing his hips into yours and lifting your feet off of the ground. The leverage that he had, along with the support of the wall behind him, allowed him to get both of your feet off of the ground. You would’ve spent more time being impressed by this feat if you weren’t so distracted by his painfully hard cock that had now slipped between your folds.
Leaning down, you desperately kissed his lips, wanting him to give you those open-mouthed kisses that you had started out with. Instead, you cried out when, without warning, his full length slipped into you.
Placing gentle kisses on your collarbone, Spencer murmured, “Are you okay?” He whispered, seeming like he was using all of his self-control to just stay still.
You nodded, feeling his cock throbbing so deep in you that you were almost afraid you’d come from just that pressure alone. “Been a while,” you murmured, taking a deep, shaky breath.
He hummed in understanding, “I’ve got you, take your time.”
His words filled your stomach with butterflies, and it wasn’t just because he was fully sheathed in you. “Spence,” you whimpered, “Move.”
On your cue, Spencer gave a tentative thrust, permitting your resulting moan to mix with his grunt. “Fuck, baby,” he said, continuing to thrust in and out of your cunt, filling the room with the crude squelching of your actions. “I’m not going to last long,” he informed you.
Throwing your head back in ecstasy, you moaned helplessly when Spencer dropped one of your legs to the ground, hooking his arm underneath your other knee, providing a new, deeper angle. You swore as the sensations started to feel overwhelming.
The new angle gave him more control over his movements, enabling him to use his free hand to pull at your breast through the fabric of your dress. As you tugged gently at his hair, you tilted your head back, “Spence, I- shit,” you cursed, recognizing the tell-tale signs of your second orgasm approaching.
If it weren’t for his words of encouragement, you would’ve been embarrassed by coming too quickly, and if anything, the words only spurred you closer to the finish line. “Come for me,” he said, thrusting harder into you as he tried to reach the same point. “Let me know how good I make you feel,” he said, continuing his thrusts until his hips stuttered.
“Coming,” you whimpered, dropping your head forward onto his shoulder as you felt your walls tightening around his hard length. Crying out as he continued to pound into you, you buried your face into his neck and nipped at the skin to muffle your sounds.
Now he was solely working toward his own orgasm, having given you two of your own. “You’re such a good girl,” he panted.
Suckling gently at the skin on his neck – not hard enough to leave a mark, you littered kisses on his sensitive skin. “Come in me, baby,” you murmured, trying to spur him on.
Your success was apparent as his movements faltered and his cock started throbbing, feeling the pulses of his cum as it filled you, your eyes rolled back at the feeling while Spencer slowed to a halt, waiting for a beat before he pulled out of you entirely.
Shuddering at the emptiness you now felt, you leaned against the wall once both of your feet were on the ground. As your legs trembled, you watched as Spencer crouched to fish something out of his jacket, leaving you with your mixture of fluids running down your legs.
As he grabbed the handkerchief from his breast pocket, you gasped slightly as you realized his intentions. “Spence, you’ll ruin it,” you insisted.
“Would you rather go back out there with my cum dripping down your thighs?” He asked, knelt in front of you with his brows raised in mock innocence.
Swallowing thickly, you shook your head, “Jesus.”
He chuckled, using the handkerchief to wipe up the mess the two of you had made on your legs before carelessly tossing it into a nearby trashcan. Noting the way your legs were still shaking, he lifted your chin ever so slightly, “Are you alright?”
Nodding, you offered him a tired, but genuine smile. “I’m great,” you told him, wiping underneath your eyes where you were sure there was a mess of mascara.
Taking your hand in his, as if it was the most normal thing in the world, Spencer led to toward the French doors that led to the balcony, taking you out into the fresh air.
As you leaned up against the railing, Spencer shook out his jacket and draped it over your shoulders, doing his best to keep you comfortable. “Hey,” you whispered, “I really am fine. Are you? How’s your hand?” In all of the hormones, you had forgotten about his injury.
Spencer nodded, looking over the property that Rossi had rented. “I’m good, Y/N. I feel good.” You wished he’d call you baby again, but maybe that was too much to ask for. His eyebrows furrowed.
“What are you thinking about?” You asked him, recognizing the look from years of working together.
He hummed, reaching up and sweeping a strand of hair off of your forehead. “That guy? The one who told you he’s into someone else? I can confidently say he’s an idiot.”
Flushing, you smiled to yourself at the fact that Spencer was calling himself an idiot, especially when he was anything but. Shrugging, you waved him off anyway, “Nobody’s perfect, Spence.”
“No, I suppose not, but even so…” he told you, allowing his voice to trail off like he wasn’t totally sure what he wanted to say to you. “If he can’t see what’s right in front of him, then maybe you need to turn your attention elsewhere.”
Sighing, you leaned your chin in your hand, “Thanks, but I don’t know. Maybe there is better out there, and I’m just not worth it.” No, after tonight, you’d likely never get over him. It might’ve started as a workplace crush, but you felt in your heart that it was now something deeper.
Spencer shook his head, “Now, that’s where we disagree.”
“Spencer, I can’t-“ Your voice is cut off when you hear someone calling your name from inside the building, smoothing out the front of your dress one more time, you step back into the room, coming face to face with JJ.
She smiles in recognition of you, but the grin immediately fades from her face when Spencer walks out behind you, “Hey, we’ve been looking for you guys,” she said flatly. “They’re about to cut the cake.”
Nodding, you took another quick look at Spencer before following the blonde out of the room, leaving your secret in the room behind you.
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946 notes · View notes
yunnuys · 2 days
Text
Sensitive
JJK men with a sensitive girlfriend
Incl (^_−)−☆ Nanami Satoru Choso Suguru Toji
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Nanami Kento:
Nanami found out how sensitive your thighs were one night when he was driving you two home from a date night. All it took was for him to just rest his hand on your thigh and you immediately closing your legs around it. He raises an eyebrow at you but he doesn’t say anything, he just keeps driving.
The date always ends with a movie night, so you two are sitting on the couch. Nanami glances over at you who’s engrossed in the movie, that’s when an idea pops into his head. He places his hand onto your thigh and squeezes softly, you feel yourself tense up again. “You did it again.” You turn to him with an unreadable expression. “Did what Ken?” No use in playing coy cause Nanami can and always will see through you. He just raises chuckles softly knowing that he just uncovered something new about you.
That’s how he ends up between your thighs, one hand keeping them spread apart while he traces soft kisses up your inner thighs. It causes your legs to quiver in response, and a soft gasp to escape your lips. “Didn’t know you were that sensitive here.” He says as he eyes drift up to yours, suckling softly to leave a light mark on the flesh.
“M not…”
“Is that so?” Nanami smiled as his kisses trailed higher and higher until they reach the spot where you need him most.
Satoru Gojo:
Satoru is a boob lover! He loves all of them no matter the shape and/or size. He never leaves boobs alone. He’s always squeezing them, looking at them, and laying on them whenever he got the opportunity to. No matter how many times you swat his damn hand away.
Anyway when that time of the month was approaching your boobs would always get sore and especiallyyyyy your nipples. You would complain to Satoru in which he would always say “why don’t you just let me massage them?” In which YOU reply with “I don’t like the way your eyes just lit up, you’re too excited so no I’ll deal with it.” He just pouts like a big baby he is, asking- no pleading for you to let him help out. So you agreed. Which was silly of you :0
But you’re not really complaining when he has you on his lap, your back to his chest as he lifts your shirt up. It was going good as he used his hands to lightly massage the mounds of flesh. Until his fingers just slightlyyy brush over your hardened nipples, causing you to let out a soft moan. “Oh?”
“Don’t.”
“Didn’t know my baby was that sensitive there.” Satoru continued to tease your nipples, applying just the right amount of pressure that has you squirming in his lap and breathing heavily. “Satoru.. fuck-“
“Think you could cum like this?” Satoru can’t hide that stupid smirk on his face.
Choso Kamo:
You both are extra sensitive when it comes to sex. All it takes is one touch and the both are you are shivering messes. When you two have sex you both get wrapped up in the sensation it’s hard to stop, no matter how overstimulated you or him get. Well to make a long story short you two are just one big whiney, filthy, and loud mess!
You’re on top bouncing on his cock, a creamy ring of cum where you two meet. Choso holds onto your hips as he throws his head back, moans just falling from his lips. “Fuck fuck fuck..” The both are you are SWEATY from multiple rounds but neither of you can stop, not yet one more won’t hurt right? The way his cock is repeatedly hitting that sweet spot inside of you and the way your walls are tightening around him is maddening!!
“A-ahhh… Cho ‘m gonna…”
“Fuck me too baby- shit I’m..” His words don’t finish as he spills inside you once again, the both of you gasping in euphoria. But! As soon soon as you two catch your breath your hips are moving against his again. “One more Cho.. jus can’t get enough.”
Anyways at least TWO more rounds after that!
Suguru Geto:
He is obsessed with your neck.. like he loves to buy you pretty necklaces so he can put them around you. Suguru loves it when you get slightly tense when he places kisses on your nape once he finishes clasping the necklace on your neck. “What was that for? You like that don’t you pretty girl.”
You could be in the kitchen making dinner by yourself when he suddenly comes up behind you and nuzzles into your neck. “Mmm smells good in here.” One kiss on the side of your neck. “Thank you Suguru I found this recipe online.” Another kiss to the back of your neck, his hands come around to rest of your hips. You can feel the wetness pooling at your core, pressing your thighs together as you focus on chopping the vegetables. “Kinda busy right now… save that for later.”
“Yeah? Later? Sure you don’t want it now.” Suguru nips at your neck, pressing his tongue immediately after to soothe the spot. His trails two fingers into the waistband of your underwear, feeling how damp you were. “You’re soaked and I haven’t done anything.”
“Sugu…” you whine trying to seemed annoyed but you make no effort to move or stop him.
Suguru just coos at you, burying his face into your neck as he buries two fingers inside of you. “Just focus on the cooking, let me take care of you real quick baby.”
Toji Fushiguro:
I’ll just get straight to the point because he knows exactly how to make you feel good. He knows your body like the back of his hand, he knows exactly how to make you cry for more… or less ^ - ^.
Toji has this thing where he won’t stop until you’re a crying mess. He thinks you look the best while he’s sucking and licking at your pussy, it’s already puffy and soaking from previous orgasms. He’s in heaven as your juices dribble down to his chin, your hands splayed in his hair. “T-toji.. c-can’t.. too much.”
He just responds by prodding his tongue at your hole, lapping at your wetness before he places his mouth on the part that makes you squirm the most. “You can take it I know you can just give me one more, you can be good right? I know you can.” Is the last sentence he says before latching onto your already overstimulated clit, sucking harshly on the swollen nub. And just like that your thighs are closing around his head as another mind blowing orgasm washes over you.
“What a good fuckin girl.”
ty for the love on the last one! If you have any requests or feedback I’ll gladly take them (^o^)
742 notes · View notes
joelsgreys · 2 days
Text
flutter
Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Pregnant! Female Reader
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snapshots masterlist
summary: When you finally start to show, Joel has a tough time with it as the reality sinks in—he’s going to be a father again.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. JACKSON ERA. (TW) PREGNANCY. established relationship. no mention of reader’s age, however in other works for this universe, it is implied she is younger than Joel, her specific age will never be stated so do with that what you will. brief descriptions of a pregnant woman’s changing body, brief mention of morning sickness, mention of breastfeeding (it only comes up in a conversation very briefly) these subjects can possibly be triggering, especially mentions of a changing body, so while i try to handle everything with the utmost care, i still ask that you proceed with caution. domesticity, reader enjoys taking care of her family, ellie is a little shit, grumpy joel, he’s sort of a dick at first? but only because he’s working through some feelings so let’s forgive him, okay?
word count: 3.5k
a/n: this is part of the snapshots universe, but it could absolutely be read as a standalone too. minimal editing, this has been sitting in my drafts and i did a quick edit during my lunch hour, so please excuse any mistakes.
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“Shit.”
You almost can’t believe your own two eyes. Staring at your reflection in the large, oval shaped mirror hanging over the porcelain bathroom sink, your gaze widens in complete surprise. “Jesus Christ,” you mutter, turning to the side. It takes your brain about a good minute or two to process, really process, the way that your belly strains against the thin, white cotton of your camisole. It had seemingly swollen overnight—because it hadn’t been this prominent the day before, had it?
Over the last few months, there’d been changes.
Some subtle and some not so subtle.
“Ellie! Stop fucking staring at them,” you’d scolded the teenager late one evening during yours and hers weekly game night. For as hard as you tried focusing on what move you should make next, it was hard to concentrate on the chessboard in front of you when you could feel the way her eyes were fixed on your breasts. “I mean it! Quit staring at my boobs, you little shit.”
She held up her hands, her mouth full of popcorn.
“Hey, in my defense, they’re just fucking there, man. If anything, they’re fucking staring at me, okay?”
During your chess rematch the following week, you had accidentally knocked one of your pawn pieces off of the table. When you’d stood up and bent over to pick it up, she had made the observation that your butt seemed to have gotten a little bigger too.
“Bet Joel’s liking these changes,” Ellie had smirked. “It sure as hell explains why the headboard’s been banging against the wall more than usual lately.”
You threw the pawn at her, smiling in satisfaction when it bounced off her forehead and landed into her glass of lemonade.
One part of your body, however, hadn’t changed.
Not until now.
“Hon, trust me, you have nothing to be worried about,” Maria had assured you with confidence when you had brought up your concerns about your stomach. “Every woman, and every pregnancy, is different. I didn’t start showing until I was around six months, remember?”
“I guess you’re right.” You’d been around four months, then. “Doesn’t help that I haven’t felt the baby move.”
“You will,” Maria had promised. “Just be patient”
Biting your lip, you place a hand on your belly.
It’s always been one of the softer parts of you, but now, it’s firmed into a perfect, round bump.
“Maybe soon I’ll feel you move,” you murmur, giving it a gentle pat. You tug the lace hem of your camisole down as far as it can go and then pull at the elastic waistband of your blue, terry cloth shorts.
Shutting off the lights in the bathroom, you slip out into the bedroom where you find that Joel’s still tangled up in the sheets, fast asleep. He had been assigned to the afternoon patrol route today—normally an early riser, if he was still snoozing, it meant that he really needed the rest. Deciding it was best to let him keep sleeping for a little while longer, you quietly tiptoe out of your shared bedroom and head downstairs into the kitchen.
After making yourself a glass of fresh squeezed orange juice, and one for the kid as well, you prepare the coffee maker for Joel. You spoon dark roast grounds into the filter and set the timer for the coffee to start brewing in thirty minutes.
He should be up by then, you think, pulling a basket of eggs out of the refrigerator.
You’re starting to get used to this. Domesticity.
Despite your protests, Maria had made the decision to pull you off patrol that same afternoon you had shared the news of your pregnancy. “I’m putting you on leave,” she’d told you. “Effective immediately. I don’t want to see you outside of these walls. Got it?”
“That’s not fair, Maria. You were out on patrol until—”
One stern glare from her had shut you right up.
“Fine.”
Sure, you missed it and looked forward to the day when you’d be able to get back into the saddle with your rifle in hand, but this way of life had grown on you. Certainly a lot more than you thought it would.
You enjoyed taking care of the house. Packing Ellie her lunch for school and checking her homework. Having a nice a meal on the table for the three of you to enjoy in the comfort of your own home instead of having to go down to the crowded mess hall for supper because you and Joel were both always much, much too tired after a long day out on patrol to bother with cooking.
With the baby due to arrive in the winter, looking after your little family had become your purpose, and you did not mind it one bit.
As strips of bacon sizzle in one pan on the gas powered stove, you crack a couple of eggs into another, knowing the kid is already on her way downstairs. You can hear the sound of her old, tattered low top sneakers that you have been trying to throw away for almost a year now squeaking on the kitchen tiles just as you finish plating her breakfast.
“Morning!” Ellie pipes, the loud plop of her backpack into a chair prompting you to turn around. “What’s for brea—whoa! Holy shit!” Her brown eyes widen in shock when she sees you and her jaw drops. “Dude.”
“Ellie,” you say her name warningly as you walk over to the table. “Don’t.”
“You’re bigger!”
With a playful glare, you set her plate down, along with her glass of orange juice. “Thanks a lot, you little jerk.” You feign offense. “You’re making your own eggs from now on.”
“Fuck, I’m sorry.” Ellie’s cheeks flush a shade of red and she squirms, sputtering apologetically, “I swear, I don’t mean it like that at all. It’s just, your stomach, it didn’t—you didn’t look like this last night, you know?”
She’s fucking lucky that your raging hormones decided to take the morning off duty.
“You look different. I mean, you look great—”
“Ellie?”
“Yeah?”
“Just shut up and eat.”
“Deal.”
She shoots you a sheepish grin and sits down, scarfing down her food in her usual manner. 
“You get your fractions homework done?”
“Yeah.” Ellie huffs, rolling her eyes. “Took me forever. I was up until fucking midnight.”
Amused, you offer, “Want me to check your work?”
“Sure.”
As Ellie inhales the rest of her breakfast, you pull out a green, single subject notebook from her backpack and look over her homework for miscalculations.
“So, uh, how are you feeling?” she asks after a minute.
“I’m feeling alright. I think the morning sickness finally stopped, so can’t complain.” Shrugging, you close the notebook and stick it into her backpack. “You did good, kid. Only got two problems wrong.”
“Man, I really wish we knew whether it’s a boy or girl,” Ellie mumbles through a mouthful of scrambled eggs. “What do you want to have, anyway?”
“It doesn’t matter to me, Ellie,” you answer, honestly. Clocking the skepticism on her face, you laugh and say, “It’s true. As long as the baby’s healthy, that’s all I care about.” And you mean it. As an expectant mother in the post outbreak world where medicine is scarce, supplies are limited, and the closest thing you have to a hospital is the town’s old clinic, the only thing you can hope for is the smooth, safe delivery of a healthy child.
Before she can say anything, you both catch the sound of Joel’s heavy boots as he descends the staircase.
She quirks an eyebrow. “Uh, has Joel seen you yet?”
Grimacing, you shake your head. “No.”
“Well, I don’t wanna be here for all that awkward,” Ellie says, chugging the rest of her orange juice. She stands up and snatches up her backpack, along with her lunch bag, which you’d packed for her earlier that morning. Just as she’s about to whirl around on the heel of her sneaker and make a run for the front door, she pauses, watching as you make your way back over to the stove to light another flame. “Unless you want me to be?”
“I’ll be fine, Ellie,” you assure her. “Go on, get to school. Maybe you’ll be on time to class for once.”
“If you say so.” She wishes you luck and then bolts out of the kitchen, throwing a quick goodbye at Joel on the way out. “See ya later, old man!”
Nervously, you turn around and start cracking another two eggs into the pan. There’s no telling how he’s going to react.
Joel’s been fairly supportive since you’d found out you were pregnant, considering how unplanned it was. But you know him like the back of your own hand, and you know, despite the numerous times he’s denied it, that it has been weighing heavily on him. Each time you’d try to sit down to talk to him about it, he would brush you off and insist he was fine. But he wasn’t fine.
And you wish he would spit it out and tell you why.
In your periphery, you notice the stained glass butterfly he had hung in front of the window above the sink, the ornament catching and refracting the sunlight. Flecks of color dance across the walls in captivating patterns, brightening the space. You think of the sweet little girl he’d hung it for, the little girl he rarely talks about, that he keeps tucked away safely in his memory.
You bite back a small sigh.
By now, you’ve learned not to push him. Especially not about what he was feeling. He would tell you when he was ready.
“Who the hell lit a fire under her ass this mornin’?” Joel asks gruffly as he walks into the kitchen. “She ain’t ever this fuckin’ eager to go to school.”
“Not sure,” you reply in the most nonchalant tone you can muster as you use a spatula to scramble the eggs. Transferring them onto a plate, you add three strips of bacon, and then pour his coffee. “I have your breakfast ready, Joel. Have a seat.”
You hear a chair scrape against the tile.
“I keep tellin’ you I can make my own breakfast, darlin’.”
“And I keep telling you I don’t mind making it for you,” you quip, and you hear him grumble something under his breath.
Inhaling a deep, calming breath through your nose, you take the plate of eggs and bacon in one hand, and his cup of coffee in the other. Your fingers grasp the handle of his ceramic, owl mug in a near death grip. You exhale slowly, and then turn around to face him.
He sees your swollen middle and stiffens in his chair. 
The tension is instantaneous. Palpable.
Uncomfortable.
Awkwardly, you shift from one foot to the other.
“Your belly,” Joel murmurs, a visible tick in his jaw as his gaze drags over your midsection. “S’bigger.”
“Yeah. It is. Guess I’m going to have to start trading for maternity clothes soon,” you remark, shuffling over to the table. Setting down the plate and mug of coffee in front of him, you take a seat across the table. Your eyes try desperately to meet his, but they refuse. There’s no way for you to decipher what he’s thinking. You let out a small, nervous laugh. “Can you please say something?” 
He lightly clears his throat. “I’ll take you to Main Street on Saturday,” he tells you, picking up his mug. “I’ve got the day off from patrol. I’ll, uh, pick through some of my own things and see what I don’t need so we can make a trade for some clothes.” He pauses, then offers quietly, “In the meantime, you can wear my shirts. They might be more comfortable for you.”
You flash him a grateful smile. “Thank you, Joel.”
Sipping his coffee, he continues to avoid your gaze.
“Mhm,” is all he says.
Your smile falters.
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It’s the middle of August.
The afternoon heat is sweltering. Unforgiving.
“Jesus, it’s a fuckin’ scorcher,” Tommy sighs, glancing over towards the lake where his mare, Maxine, is taking a drink beside his brother’s stallion, Phoenix. His raven curls are damp with sweat, plastered to his forehead. “Hotter than the devil’s fuckin’ balls out here, ain’t it?”
He’s met with silence.
Looking over his shoulder, he sees Joel leaning against a tree, his rifle in hand as he stares at the Grand Tetons in the distance almost like he’s in a trance. “Joel?”
Blinking furiously, Joel shakes his head. “Sorry, you say somethin’ to me just now?” He asks in a daze, pushing away from the lodgepole pine. “We headin’ out?”
“You’ve been actin’ real strange all afternoon,” Tommy observes, walking towards him with his own gun slung over his shoulder. “Either the heat is startin’ to get to you, or you’ve got somethin’ on your mind, big brother.”
Joel hesitates. His dark eyes flit to the other side of the lake where the other members of their afternoon patrol group are refilling their canteens with water.
“S’alright,” his younger brother says. “Don’t worry ‘bout them. Can’t hear us.”
Joel’s chest heaves with a heavy sigh. “She popped.”
“Huh?”
“Her belly finally popped. She’s showin’ now.”
Amused, Tommy lightly shakes his head. “Y’shouldn’t be so surprised, Joel. Was ‘bout time,” he remarks with a shrug. “What is she—like six months along now?”
“She’ll be six months in a couple weeks.” Joel wipes the perspiration off his brow with the back of his hand and sighs once more. “Look, I ain’t stupid, Tommy. I knew it was bound to happen sooner or later, but it still caught me by surprise. When I saw her, it became real for me. She’s got my kid in there. I’m gonna be a dad again.”
“You’re scared.” It’s not a question, it’s a statement.
“Shitless,” Joel confesses, feeling his chest tighten. 
“What are you afraid of?”
Joel almost laughs.
He doesn’t know where to start.
He’s afraid of everything.
“All of it, Tommy. I’m afraid for her, havin’ to give birth with no medicine,” he tells him, his voice breaking. “I’m afraid I won’t remember what to do with a newborn or that I won’t know how to help her durin’ those first few months—”
“This ain’t your first rodeo,” Tommy reminds him. “You did it once, and you did just fine, Joel.”
“That was over three fuckin’ decades ago. And it was a different world. If Sarah—” He stops, taking a second to catch his breath. The image of his daughter’s little face flashing in his mind feels like a violent punch to the gut. Even after all this time, it still knocks all of the wind out of his lungs. “When her mom had trouble breastfeedin’ her, I could head to the grocery store and buy her baby formula. If she got a real bad fever, I could load her up in the truck and drive her to the emergency room.” He glances down at his broken watch. “Besides, I was a lot younger, then. And I wasn’t half fuckin’ deaf like I am now. When Sarah would wake up cryin’ in the middle of the night because she needed a diaper change, I’d hear her. What if I can’t hear my own kid cryin’?”
“Joel—”
“I’m in my fifties. What if I can’t keep up because I’m too fuckin’ old?”
Tommy reaches out, clapping a hand onto his shoulder.
“Brother, I need you to take a fuckin’ breath,” he says, chuckling softly. “You’re puttin’ the weight of the world of your shoulders right now—you need to put some of it down. Look, we might not have everythin’ we used to before the world ended, but we make do with what we do have. Considerin’ just how many growin’ families we have and how many little ones we’ve got runnin’ around our town, I’d say it’s workin’ out pretty fuckin well.” He gives his shoulder an encouraging squeeze. “And as far as your ability to be a good dad, you’ve still got it, Joel. You know what to do, and so does she. I’ve seen her in action with my little boy, and it seems like she’s already got those maternal instincts, y’know?”
“Yeah, she does,” Joels agrees quietly, thinking of how you had stepped up to help him care for Ellie.
“Trust me, between the two of you, it’ll be alright.”
He peers at him. “You really believe I still got it in me?”
“I do.” Tommy smiles. “You never stopped knowin’ how to be a father, Joel. You’re gonna be just fine.”
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Their patrol shift extends into the evening, turning into a double, and it’s late when he gets home. 
“What the hell are you still doin’ up?” Joel asks when he finds Ellie sitting at the kitchen table, cursing to herself as she flips through the stale, yellowing pages of an old life science text book.
“What does it fucking look like, man?”
“Shouldn’t have waited until the last minute, kiddo—”
Ellie holds up a hand and cuts him off.
“Save the lecture for another time, dude. I’m busy.”
Joel rolls his eyes. “Finish up and get to bed. S’late.”
Without waiting for some smartass response, he turns on the heel of his boot and then heads upstairs to your shared bedroom. He flips on the lights only to find that you’re already in bed, fast asleep, wearing nothing but one of his t-shirts and a pair of panties. He toes off his boots and leaves them by the door, being as quiet as he possibly can as he rummages through his top drawer for some clean boxers to sleep in.
He slips into the bathroom where he takes a quick, hot shower, scrubbing off that day’s sweat, dirt, and grime. After he’s dressed and his sopping wet, salt and pepper curls are haphazardly towel dried, Joel walks back out into the bedroom where he switches off the lights and climbs into bed next to you.
He lays on his side and he’s just about to close his eyes when he feels a light shift beside him. You roll over and curl into him, your belly pressing up against his curve of his spine.
He stiffens, freezing as if someone had just placed the barrel of their pistol against his back, their finger over the trigger.
Christ, get a damn grip, he thinks silently to himself.
Joel thinks about that morning in the kitchen.
He knows his reaction had hurt you. Or rather, his lack of a reaction. His shitty ways of coping aren’t your fault, and his struggle to come to terms with your pregnancy sure as hell isn’t your fault, either. He owed it to you to try harder to be the man you needed.
The man you both needed.
Joel’s train of thought comes to a screeching halt when he feels a soft flutter against his middle of his back, the spot right where your tummy is nestled—did the baby just move?
He lies still, waiting to see if he feels it again, and when he doesn’t, he rolls over to face you, causing you to stir.
“Joel?” you mumble his name, sleepily. “What time—?”
“Shh,” Joel soothes, pulling you into his bare chest. He kisses your temple. “S’okay, baby. Go back to sleep.”
He doesn’t have to tell you twice.
Within seconds, you’re asleep again, snuggled into him and snoring softly.
Lifting a hand, he hesitates, then rests it on your belly.
He waits.
And waits.
And waits.
And waits.
Until the minutes turn into hours.
Until dawn’s light filters in through the lace curtains. 
Until he finally feels that little flutter again.
He feels it against the palm of his hand. Faint, nothing more than a brief whisper against his skin, but there is no mistaking it.
He’d just felt the baby’s movement.
There’s a sudden shift.
Tense muscles that had been painfully wound up since the moment you’d mentioned to him your period was a week late back in the spring loosen slightly—the breath he had been holding since he’d picked up that positive pregnancy test from the bathroom counter finally falls from his lips, fanning over yours.
His fears, his worries, his uncertainties about what lies ahead, they’re all still there, of course, but he finds they are now accompanied by a glimmer of hope, a sliver of optimism that maybe, just maybe, Joel doesn’t have to be as afraid as he is.
Joel’s eyes glaze over your face, warmth radiating in his chest when you breathe a little a sigh of content in your sleep as he gently rubs your stomach through his shirt.
With his hand still splayed over your belly, he closes his eyes and begins to drift off, falling into the most decent sleep he’s had in the last few months.
Maybe his brother’s right.
Maybe he will be just fine.
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divider credit to @saradika 🤍
967 notes · View notes
landosjpg · 3 days
Text
so high school | ln
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the one where you feel like a teenager in love.
lando norris x fem!reader
word count: ~1.0k
warnings: fluff, smut (MDNI, +18), public masturbation, fingering, orgasm denial
note: i’ve been listening to this song on repeat for almost a week now, it’s so catchy and the GTA lyrics made me laugh so i had to write something inspired by it. it’s short but i hope you enjoy :) not proofread
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being in love had never been as easy as it was with lando.
you had been in love before, sure, but your heart beat in a different rhythm whenever he was around.
you both had felt the spark between you the very first time you met. you could swear the sound of his laugh would always be your favorite song and something as simple as the way his eyes crinkled when he smiled made the butterflies in your stomach flutter all around every damn time.
“come on, tell me again!” your voice was high-pitched, it always was when you were with your boyfriend.
you heard lando let out a chuckle at your insistence, his body spread on the couch as you rested your head on his lap. his hand found yours, fingers entwining under the blanket that covered your body and you gave him a little squeeze, encouraging to tell you once more what you were asking.
“alright, alright,” he facetiously rolled his eyes, earning a giggle from your lips. “i thought you were the most beautiful girl i’ve ever seen.”
you had heard his first impression on you about a thousand times before, but it always brought a smile to your face, being reminded of how enamored he was with you since the very first night.
“fuck, i could barely sleep that night because you wouldn’t leave my mind,” and you had felt the exact same thing.
you two had just clicked instantly, your friends surprised at the chemistry of the both of you.
despite of how crowded the club was that evening you met, it had felt like no one was around you. endless conversation and laughs that seemed to never cease lured you away from the presence of everyone else, and when his lips finally met yours hours later you felt your heart exploding. your bodies moulded together as if you were made to each other, smiles and soft giggles breaking the kiss every few seconds.
and wrapped in his arms you felt like you were sixteen again; and admittedly, no one had ever loved you quite like him before.
୨୧
for the almost eight months that you had been together, you and lando had always loved to invite your mutual friends over during the weekend. at the end of the day, they were the reason you two had met in the first place, and there weren’t enough words in the english language to just show how grateful you were.
every few saturdays all of you would reunite in your —his —living room, a few bottles of alcohol and snacks set on the tea table as you played some stupid drinking game. after that, you would just play the first movie that one of you could think of, lights off as everyone settled either on the couch or, most likely, on the floor, a little too tipsy to even bother getting comfortable.
that night it was american pie playing on the big screen as you cuddled into your boyfriend’s embrace under the soft blanket; it was chilly, the cool summer freeze making you need to cover the bare skin of your legs.
you softly sighed as your leaned your back to his chest as his arms circled around you; and then one of his hands was creeping under the blanket, fingers gently brushing the skin of your thighs.
you smiled at the comfort of his warmth, eyes fixed on the screen mindlessly.
but lando had had a little too much to drink that night, so his fingers slowly moved up, up, up, until they found the seam of your shorts. and the innocence of his previous touch was immediately thrown away the second you looked up to his face, eyes furrowed in confusion, just to meet his smirk.
“what are you doing?” you whisper-shouted, your thighs closing together as he tried to get closer to where he knew you wanted him.
and he shushed. that sly grin of his not leaving his lips.
you bit your lower lip and complied, legs slowly giving him access to your core as your eyes went back to the movie. with slow, teasing movements, he managed to push your shorts and your panties to the side, fingers finding the nub of your clit with ease. this was the most patient you had ever seen him, the tip of his digits slowly rubbing circles on you as he pretended to watch that stupid movie, not even looking at you.
your breath got heavier and unsteady as he touched you at a tauntingly pace, inaudible to everyone else thanks to the loud volume of the tv.
but when he slid his fingers down your folds, coating them in your slick before slowly pushing two of them into your hole, you couldn’t help a gasp from escaping your lips.
you felt your face heating up when the sound earned a look from some of your friends, and you tried your best to cover it with a chuckle. that scene better had been funny, you thought.
lando, however, seemed to find your situation hilarious. you looked up at his smile as he kept fucking his fingers into you slowly, and you could tell he was trying his best not to laugh.
as the seconds passed, stifling your sighs was getting harder and harder, your walls already clenching around your boyfriend’s digits. your fingers wrapped around his wrist, warning him that you were close, and that’s when he stopped.
the withdrawal of his fingers almost made you whine, and you shot a glance at him, this time, a disappointed one. he seemed to like how you responded, because his smile widened and he lowered his head to press a gentle kiss to your temple.
“later, baby. i want to hear those pretty sounds you make when you come,” he whispered into your ear before leaning back on the couch again, shamelessly cleaning his fingers on your thigh and leaving you craving his touch even more.
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922 notes · View notes
babyleostuff · 2 days
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when you look at them with love and adoration | ot13
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fluff 𐙚 established relationship 𐙚 idol!svt x gn!reader 𐙚 headcanon + dabble
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☁️ HIP HOP UNIT
𐙚 seungcheol  
tries to act unbothered. key word: tries. you have no idea how the look in your eyes makes him feel - how he instantly melts under your soft and loving gaze, how he would do literally anything for you just because of the way you’re looking at him. he always jokes that he has you wrapped around his little finger, but who are we kidding. plus, we know he tries to act tough and manly most of the time, but cheol is a baby, so he immediately turns into the biggest blushy mess on the planet. besides, it’s so crazy to him that someone can look at him with so much love and adoration, and the fact that he gets to call you his?  
[ ☁️ ]
“stop.” 
“what?” you laughed, brushing away the hair from his forehead. 
“stop looking at me like that,” he muttered, hiding his head in your neck, too shy to look you in the eye. 
“like what, hm?” you joked, waiting for the whines, and pouts from your boyfriend. 
seungcheol could act all tough as much as he wished, but you knew the real him - the blushy, shy, and adorable him that turned into the biggest puddle in your arms, just from the way you were looking at him. 
“i love you,” you heard a quiet whisper, followed by a gentle peck on your shoulder. 
“i love you too, my dumbass.”
𐙚 wonwoo
does not know how to act, because how is it possible that he’s suddenly feeling so shy, and… so loved? and just by the way you’re looking at him. but the look, oh the look you have in your eyes. wonwoo isn’t sure it should be even humanly possible to have so much emotion just in your eyes, but yours, yours are filled with so much adoration. you’re looking at him like his the most beautiful thing ever created, and he does not know how to react to something like that. 
[ ☁️ ]
wonwoo could see you standing in the doorway to your bedroom from the corner of his eyes. it was weird, because usually you’d come in and stand behind him, sometimes you’d warp your arms around his shoulders or kiss his cheek, but now you were only standing there. 
pausing his game, he took off his headset ready to ask you if everything was okay, but he was immediately struck by the look on your face when he turned his head. 
“wha- what’s up?” he asked, his voice shaking. why were you looking at him like that. what was going on? 
“nothing, i just came to check up on you,” you smiled, tilting your head. 
in that moment, wonwoo felt like the luckiest man alive.
𐙚 mingyu  
his instant reaction is waddling over to where you’re standing and wrapping himself around you. he knows how much you love him - whether you convey it by your words, actions, touch. but to mingyu, the deepest confession of love is definitely the way you simply look at him. anyone can see the way your eyes are filled with nothing but adoration for the man standing in front of you, and to mingyu that’s the loudest “i love you” you could ever say. nonetheless, he always turns into a big fluff of shyness, and giggles when he notices your love struck expression. 
[ ☁️ ]
“baby,” mingyu whined, his lips forming into a sweet pout. “don’t look at me like that,” he mumbled, before setting down the pan, and going around the kitchen island to wrap his strong arms around you. 
“i’m just watching you cook, gyu,” you said as a matter of fact with a small smile on your face, like you didn’t just melt his heart, turning him into a whining mess.  
you knew exactly what you were doing, and how your boyfriend would react, but you couldn’t help yourself. being with him like that was so… domestic. it made you feel like home. 
“i love you, baby,” he said, his voice muffled.
𐙚 vernon
if wonwoo doesn’t know how to act, then i don’t know how i’m supposed to describe vernon’s reaction. no thoughts, just puppy eyes. i doesn’t matter how long you’ve been together, vernon always freezes whenever he sees that look on your face. the look that says more than a hundred “i love you’s”, the look that never fails to make his heart beat faster, the look that says “you’re mine forever”. he never comments on it much, because - what is he really supposed to say in a situation like that, but it always, always makes him feel like the luckiest person alive. what he doesn’t know is that whenever you give him a look of pure love and adoration, his eyes are filled with as much affection as yours.
[ ☁️ ]
“should we order the pizza you were talking about last week, or the usual?”
when you didn’t answer him like you immediately would when it came to food, vernon raised his head to make sure you were still listening to him.
“baby are you-,” his voice immediately fell silent when he saw how intently you were looking at him. but it was more than that.
you looked at him like he was the only person in the world you wanted to look at.
the voice in his head tried to explain it by saying that you were actually alone in your apartment, so there weren't many other people for you to look at, but... that look, it was something else.
“yes, vernon?”
“um, the pizza, or the usual?”
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☁️ PERFORMANCE UNIT
𐙚 jun
his default reaction is to run and hide. jun cannot fathom how much love your eyes can hold, and adding the fact that he's the one that makes you look like that??? yeah, no, he’s good. he just ends up staring right back at you, eyes big and sparkly, not knowing he looks at you with the same amount of adoration, which just makes you chuckle (seriously, he couldn’t get any cuter). to protect his heart, he’d try to turn the situation around into a joke, but jun would just stumble over his words (adorably) and end up with a big blush on his cheeks, and a shy smile
[ ☁️ ]
"baby?"
jun refused to look at you, not after how he caught you looking at him with that look, no. he would not let you see how shy it made him. 
“junnie, please,” you giggled, and cupped his cheeks that were dusted with an adorable blush, which you’d never get tired of. “why won’t you look at me, hm?” you crooked an eyebrow at him. 
with his little pout and sparkly eyes, you couldn’t help but smile widely. what did you ever do to deserve such a precious human being? 
“stop looking at me like that,” he muttered, as his eyebrows furrowed at your amused expression. 
“like what?” you teased.
𐙚 hoshi
starts giggling like crazy - he always gets all smiley when you look at him, but when he catches you with this particular look that says “i love you” so loudly, hoshi just can’t contain himself. he’d skip over to you like a little girl, and hug the shit out of you, while vibrating with love himself. he’s just so happy to have someone that looks at him like that - like he’s their entire world while he’s doing the most mundane things ever, he just has to convey his love and adoration right back
[ ☁️ ]
“kwon soonyoung, what are you doing?” you laughed, as your boyfriend threw his arms around you, not in a gentle way. 
you didn’t get a proper response, just a bunch of hoshi sounds - giggles, laughs, and something even you couldn’t understand. the usual. 
“i love youuuu,” he said, and even though you couldn’t see (thanks to his not so gentle hug), you could hear the smile in his voice. that was probably what you loved about him the most - you weren't sure whether his next hug would almost suffocate you or whether it would be as delicate as a feather.
after a while, when his sudden burst of love had passed, he grabbed you a little gentler and pressed his cheek to the top of your head, and as you stood there, you couldn't believe that a simple look could cause such a reaction in him.
𐙚 minghao
gets so so so shy. minghao sees himself as a very composed person that’s very in touch with his emotions, and while usually he’s good at hiding his feeling when he has to, the second he catches a glimpse of you staring at him like he hung the stars and moon, he’s gone. he blushes like crazy, immediately turning away from you because you won’t catch xu minghao blushing, suddenly acting like the packet of ramen is the most fascinating thing in the world. poor bub just doesn’t know how else he’s supposed to act (he’d be a bit clingier than usual throughout the day, though, it’s his silent way of saying “thank you”)
[ ☁️ ]
you were in the middle of making a late dinner for you and minghao when you felt two familiar arms wrapping themselves around your waist. 
“the dinner will be ready in twenty minutes, honey,” you said, not paying much attention to your boyfriend’s sudden clinginess. 
“mhm,” he hummed, and placed his chin on your shoulder, pulling your body closer to his. you couldn’t help but smile - there was nothing better than minghao in teddy bear mode, especially with how gently, but securely he was holding you. 
“i love you, you know,” he said, and placed a soft peck on your cheek, nuzzling his face further into your neck.
𐙚 chan 
would melt on the spot, and turn into a puddle of love and fluff. he’d look at you with sparkly puppy eyes and a tiny pout, because how dare you to mess with his poor heart like that - no amount of “i love you’s” could ever express how grateful he is for having you in his life, and that he’s able to call you his. chan always gets so cuddly and giggly after catching your lovestruck gaze, it's like his entire being is filled with your love, and you can be damn sure he’d stick by your side for the rest of the day. you’re the best at bringing out the maknae out of chan
[ ☁️ ]
“i love you.” 
“i love you too baby, but this is like the tenth time you’ve said that in the last fifteen minutes,” you laughed, brushing away the hair from his forehead. you looked down at your boyfriend who was currently happily occupying your chest, getting his daily dose of afternoon cuddles. 
“i know,” he sighed, happiness clear in his voice. “and i’m going to keep saying that.” 
you could only shake your head in amusement at chan’s antics, as you fell back into a comfortable silence once again, both of you focused on the show you were watching. 
“i love you.” 
“lee chan i swear to god!”
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☁️ VOCAL UNIT
𐙚  jeonghan 
little (shy) gremlin activated because jeonghan will tease you with a hint of a blush on his cheeks (he mostly does that to distract you from how shy your stare made him). but after some snarky (lovingly, of course) comments, he’d just cling to you, and nuzzle his head into your neck telling you how much he loves you. no words could ever express how that look - so full of love and adoration made him feel. it’s just the feeling of being so… loved. yeah, that does things to him
[ ☁️ ]
“what is it jeonghan?” 
“nothing,” he said sweetly, not tearing his eyes from you. 
you rolled your eyes at your boyfriend’s antics. you weren’t sure what you did this time to deserve his usual teasing, not that it really mattered, but you couldn’t help but get a bit annoyed by him staring so intensely at you. 
“you know i love you, right?” he said after a while, just when you thought he’d proceed with his day, and leave you alone. instead he wrapped his arms around you from behind, and put his chin on your shoulder. 
you turned your head around, kissing his nose. “i know, honey. i love you too.”
𐙚  joshua 
smiles fondly right back at you with the same amount of adoration (to be honest, joshua always looks at you like that, it’s his default setting), but when he catches your lovestruck gaze he just cannot help but scrunch his nose cutely, and smile with just as a smitten expression as yours. from the third person's perspective this might look a bit scary weird, because why are you just staring at each other smiling like that? but you, you are just wrapped up in your little bubble of love
[ ☁️ ]
“do you think we look weird?” you asked, your eyes glued to your boyfriend’s adorable face. you’ve been sitting like this for the last five minutes, looking at each other unable to tear your eyes from each other. 
“no?” he smiled, his eyes scrunching cutely. 
just a second later the door to the bathroom opened and closed, and coups emerged from the hallway. “um, you guys okay?” he asked, suspiciously. 
you and joshua just proceeded to burst out laughing, leaving your friend very concerned, and very confused.
𐙚  woozi
woozi in his woozi fashion tries to act unbothered, but there is no way he could ignore your look full of nothing but adoration. for a second he gets so overwhelmed by the love that’s radiating off of you, because it’s so crazy to him that all of that affection is dedicated to him. jihoon would maybe try to turn it into a joke to hide how shy you made him, or just not comment on your lovestruck gaze at all, but no worries - the image of you and your love filled eyes would stay with him for the rest of the day
[ ☁️ ]
“hey, baby? what is this?” you asked, sliding the piece of paper that looked like it was about to fall apart over to your boyfriend. he looked up from his computer, scanning the paper quickly. 
you didn’t mean to snoop around his office at home, you just wanted to clean his mess a bit so he wouldn’t have to worry about it after coming back from work, only you didn’t expect to find what you did. 
“it’s just some silly lyrics,” he shrugged. you would’ve believed him if not for the small blush creeping up on his cheeks. 
“mhm, sure,” you smiled, knowing exactly who the lyrics were about.
𐙚  seokmin
seokmin has one of the most romantic souls in all of seventeen, so it’s no surprise he always looks at you with the most lovestruck expression, no matter what you’re doing. at this point you’re so used to it that you don’t comment on it anymore, but the situation is so much different when he catches you looking at him with eyes filled with nothing but love. dk’s immediate reaction is to kiss you all over your face with soft pecks, and then bear hug you and tell you how much he loves you. he just has to convey his love right back to you, he can’t let you think that he doesn’t notice how you look at him
[ ☁️ ]
“baby, let me go,” you whined, for the hundredth time, after your boyfriend got one of his love surges when he just had to take it out on you. “no,” he huffed, and kissed your cheek. and again. and again. 
you both fell silent for a while, a nice, comfortable quietness surrounding your intertwined forms. “you’re not bothered by me, right?” 
you swore you’d kill him one day for thinking he’s a bother. “lee seokmin,” you grumbled, and pinched his arm. 
“auch,” he whined, rubbing his arm. “what was that for?” you took that opportunity to untangle yourself from him. “shut up, and kiss me or i swear to god.”
𐙚  seungkwan
boo gets a bit sulky, because how dare you to look at him like that? and what is he supposed to do now? no hugs, kisses or words could ever convey how grateful he is for you. he settles for waddling over to you with a small pout, and sparkly eyes to first - whine “don’t look at me like that”, and second - kiss your cheek and wrap his arms around you. sometimes he thinks he’s not worth enough for you to be looking at him like that - he’s just making a snack, so why are you looking at him so lovingly? at the end of the day, your lovestruck look fills him with so much love and reassurance, and he could never thank you enough for that
[ ☁️ ]
you were used to your boyfriend’s random bursts of affection, but you didn’t expect him to hug you like his life depended on it in the middle of cooking. 
“you okay?” you asked, a bit concerned. 
“mhm,” he mumbled, his cheek squished against your shoulder. you figured he was just feeling clingy today, not that it bothered you. “i jus’ love you,” he added. 
you cooed at him, and turned your head to kiss his cheek. 
“i love you too, boo.”
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taglist (if you want to be added, check my masterlist): @jeonghansshitester @weird-bookworm @sea-moon-star @hanniehaee @wonwooz1 @byprettymar @edgaralienpoe @staranghae @itza-meee @eightlightstar @immabecreepin @whatsgyud @hyneyedfiz @honestlydopetree @vicehectic @dkswife @uniq-tastic @marisblogg @aaniag @daegutowns @carlesscat-thinklogic23 @embrace-themagic @ohmyhuenings @nidda13 @hrts4hanniehae @k-drama-adict @isabellah29 @f4iryjjosh @bangantokchy @mrswonwooo @bangtancultsposts @lllucere @athanasiasakura @chillseo @onlyyjeonghan @haecien @caramyisabitchforsvtandbts @hannahhbahng @valgracia @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @mirxzii @hhusbuds @wonranghaeee @rosiesauriostuff @gyuguys @aaasia111 @tomodachiii @veryfabday @lilmochiandsuga @asasilentreader @mrsnervous @bewoyewo @sharonxdevi @wondipity @gyuguys @raginghellfire @treehouse-mouse @waldau @wonootnoot @hellodefthings @dokyeomkyeom @sourkimchi @bbysnw @haneulparadx @zozojella @hoichi02
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csainzoperator · 2 days
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ferrari drivers and their reaction to you kissing them in the middle of a conversation ☆
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warnings: kissing (obviously), skinship, suggestive jokes, slight nsfw, mentions of sex, mentions of food.
word count: 485
charles leclerc
♡ would be yapping about his new ice cream brand, LEC. he would be talking about it so passionately and lovingly that you cannot contain the amount of joy listening to him talk brings you.
♡ he would look at you weird, tilting his slightly, his eyebrows raised in question when you don't react to his words anymore.
♡ you would lean in and give his lips a soft peck, making him giggle. "what was that for?" he would question, gazing at you momentarily, his dimples on display, a soft shade of crimson on his cheeks.
♡ you shrug, "just because." his smile brightens, making your chest tighten with warmth. the type of warmth you feel when the summer breeze brushes through your hair, when you dip your sandy toes into the cold sea water, when you have hot chocolate on christmas night. you admire his smile, unknown to the one on your own face.
♡ he would caress your cheek softly, pulling you closer to him. he always felt so ALIVE when he touched you. so real. so full of uncontrollable love. he would kiss your lips, gently, like he was touching a something so fragile, so precious, so important. because you were all that. "just because." he would mutter against your lips, a shy smile adorning his face.
carlos sainz
♡ it was a summer break, you and carlos were in your small beach house in the south of france. he was making you both breakfast. you did try to help him (tried cracking an egg and got an egg shell inside the bowl), but he refused. he wanted to give you "queen treatment" because princess was too basic.
♡ you sat on the counter as you watched him work around in the kitchen. something about this act was so homely, so domestic. how automated it was, how it all came together so perfectly. how you were so used to it, but would never get tired of it. he was whisking up his world famous (as he would like to call it) pancakes.
♡ you would lean towards him, and he would question your loving stare "no i am not letting you help, mi vida." he would wear his stern gaze, hoping it would shut you up. helping him was far from what you wanted to do. you grab his face and kiss his plumply lips, making a 'muah' sound.
♡ although surprised by the sudden affection, he wouldn't waste a second in kissing you back. his lips would make their way downwards, leaving sloppy kisses down your neck. you had to shove him away playfully to make him stop.
♡ he would have a slight pout on his face, picking up his whisk again to work on his masterpiece. "why would you kiss me!? it was distracting, baby. now i'm not even hungry." he would whine, feeding you before letting the neighbours know what his name was through your, let's say, high pitched vocals.
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an: i made this while listening to bollywood romantic songs i lowk died ok. js a lil drabble for my adorable followers! hope u love it <3
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lovifie · 9 hours
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Simon “I Will Never Be A Father” Riley, and how he ended up with a football team worth of kids.
CW: Like 2k words of fluffy Simon, and then 1k words of filth, massive breeding kink, creampie, disgusting sext talk mess. Enjoy! 🩷
Masterlist - Taglist Form
It's not his fault, it's yours. 
He met you really early in both of your careers, before either of you had really any important ranks, nor years of experience. 
But a mission together to recollect some intel was enough for the two of you to learn each other's names. 
It was back when rage still blinded more of Simon's senses, the loss of her family still recent. But you didn't know, obviously, and he wouldn't tell you. 
During that mission, he would constantly snap at you, unnecessary remarks and barks at you whenever you would ask something. 
Not that you would back down because of the overgrown chihuahua, usually just shouting back and ignoring him. Letting him to simmer in his guilty feelings.
But the time together helped to learn what buttons to press and when to act as if you hadn’t seen something, and by the time you made it back to base, to your different units; you said goodbye shaking hands and saying: “Nice to meet you, Riley. Don't die.”
He didn't say it back, but he felt it more. 
Years went by before he saw you again, and after a while, he simply assumed you did in fact, die. 
He was higher in his career, already being respected by most and always addressed as Ghost. The rage of his past was already on a secondary level. 
More mature, more knowledgeable, more experienced. 
But for some reason, he couldn't forget you. He had come across so many different people who would back down just for him looking at them, yet when he screamed at you, you didn't let him win. 
He missed you. 
He would never admit it, but he missed the girl he met on that mission those years back. Maybe if he had said it back you would be alive. 
Maybe.
“Riley?!” An unmistakable voice asks, radiant with happiness from his back. 
He turns around, eyes wide open looking for the source, for the girl he met so long ago, for the girl he thought had died. 
But he sees you.
The woman, on the same rank as his, grown, more mature, more knowledgeable and more experienced. 
Scars and wounds adorning your body just like his. 
“What is that mask, Riley?” You ask, smiling widely. “You turned emo?!”
You laugh loudly as you finally walk up to him, an awkward position of not knowing how to say hi after so long apart. 
“Aye, didn't want people falling in love with me like you did.” He says, completely baffling but still hoping it was true. 
“Argh.” You say, rolling your eyes as you slap his arm. “Well, excuse me, lover boy. Didn't know you have spent all this time fighting the ladies.”
There hasn't been any ladies. Not after you. He realises it in that moment.
“It's the uniform.” He explains, a stupid smug smirk under the mask. “And you? What have you been up to?”
“The usual, learned German, I knit now, killed a couple of hundred terrorists, and got my flying licence!” You enunciate, slightly jumping with the last. 
He doesnt realizes that the mask is not covering his eyes, and that no matter how cold and stoic he tries to act; you can see clearly as day the affection and happiness from seeing you again. 
This time, when you say goodbye, you keep each other numbers. A way to stay in contact, to check once a month if you are still alive. 
But again, time goes by before meeting in person again. 
And when it happens, Ghost is already on the 141; and it's not him the one that sees you first. 
“We are having a surprise guest on the next operation.” Price says one morning while they are having breakfast. “She’s from another base, but has an amazing resume. She's a lieutenant too. And with an ugly character, like you” He says, pointing at Ghost.
And he knows it's you. 
It gotta be. 
And a couple of days later, when you enter the mess hall; walking behind him and slapping the back of his head, he is elated.
“I knew I was smelling trash.” You say, looking down on him. Barely a bit taller than him when he is seated. 
He turns his body, resting his arm around your hips. “How long are going to be following me for, ya rat?”
“Hmm, not my fault you can't do your fucking job, useless bitch.” You say with a smile on your face as you rest your arm over his shoulders. 
“Well, somebody gotta take out the trash, you cunt.” He says, a smug smile on his face. 
“Aww, are you telling me to take you out, lover boy?” You say, resting your hand on your chest. That makes him bark a laugh, patting your side after, before saying. “I'm glad to see you are still in one piece, idiot.”
“The feeling is mutual, dickhead.” 
And that was the first time that Simon’s hand was resting on your hips, but definitely not the last. 
The first mission together with the 141 was an absolute shit show, everything that could have gone wrong… went wrong. And if it wasn't because of your stubbornness, it would have been Simon’s last mission.
Being trapped under debris, unable to get out of the burning building. Everyone was already out, only him inside, talking on the radio to tell the team to leave him behind. 
Except you, who managed to slip through Price's orders and run into the obvious death trap. Able to take the debris keeping Simon trapped with his help, both of you using the extra strength that only comes out in emergencies. Unknowingly, both of you going to the extreme of your resistance to make sure the other didn't die inside the building. 
And when he was in the hospital bed, days later, and you came to visit him, and you leaned forward and kissed him. It was the first kiss, but not the last one. 
The two of you, already adults perfectly functional, able to instruct armies, take down terrorist organisations, and yet… it was not until 8 months after the first kiss that one of you managed to ask the other out.
“The team were going out for drinks tonight, but they bailed… do you want to go still? The two of us?”
To this day, Simon still believes it was his doing that the two of you went alone to the pub, and you still have not had the heart to tell him it was you the one who asked Price, Soap and Gaz to tell him they couldn't go.
And once the door was opened, everything went smoothly and easily. Not bothering to call the relationship in any way, as if the two of you haven't been exclusive to the other from the first moment you met. 
Still, even more time went on before something more than kisses went down. Until the two of you went on separate missions, months spent apart from each other, only to reach base again at the same time. 
And as if you had planned, you walked to each other room. Meeting exactly in the middle and jumping into each other arms. 
Not that anyone else on the team had doubts about what went on between the two of you, but still was a surprising view. And you pulled Simon by his hand inside of his room, every doubt crumb was erased. 
And once it started, everything else went in a blur. By the time you took notice, the two of you were already married for a couple of years, the honeymoon phase was still strong, and expecting your first child. 
And Simon, who had always promised he would never have kids, now was obsessed with your pregnant self. During the pregnancy, he couldn't keep his hands away from your body.
Constantly feeling you up, every inch of skin, from your hips, to your breast, to your tummy. Completely obsessed and enamoured with your body, changing and adjusting to bear his child. His big-ass child. That had you wabling from the second trimester. 
He missed the birth, away on a mission when you were in your seventh month. Promising the mission would last a week, but he didn't take a step into your house until three months later. He didn't look Price at his face for weeks after the due date passed. 
The worst part was that there was no communication with you, complete radio silence. Again, like so many years ago; you could be dead and he wouldn't know. 
And when the plane landed, he took the quickest shower of his life. Because the worst case scenario was coming home to an empty house, but the worst second was holding his child for the first time with the blood of his enemies still on his hands. He wouldn't taint such an innocent thing. 
The door almost fell from the hinges when he entered, eyes looking through the house. Breathing only because he could see light from the bedroom, and then you walked out of the room. 
Looking at him with tears on your eyes as you run to him, jumping on his arms and getting crushed by his hug. Muttering apologies as he kissed your head, he still has not forgiven himself for failing you that day. 
You shake your head, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the bedroom. He freezes on his spot, as if he just remembered that he had a child; your abdomen way flatter than when he left. 
“C’mon, Si… Do you not want to meet your son?” 
A son.
He had a son. 
He followed you into the room, unable to say a word as he saw the tiny human sleeping in the middle of the bed. 
He walked behind you, waiting for instructions, his brain struggling to work normally. You tell him to sit down, picking the baby to lay him on his arms. The father finally holding his son for the first time.
And when the baby exhaled a satisfied sigh at the warmth pooling from Simon’s body, the first tear rolled down his cheek.
He didn't sleep that night, it didn't matter that he had barely been able to sleep the weeks before, he couldn't pull his eyes away from the baby. So that night, he stayed seated, with the baby on his arms and with you sleeping by his side.
The happiest night of his life. 
He finally took his parental leave, almost smashing the phone against the wall when Price called him; even though it was to congratulate him. 
And Simon, who always had believed he would never have kids, now had one. And that might have been the first child he had, but it was definitely not the last one. 
Because a couple of weeks later, when the two of you went to base; to introduce the baby to his teammates, Simon couldn't stop thinking about how good you looked with his child strapped to your body. 
His little head resting over your full breasts, sleeping and perfectly unaware of every problem in the world. But Simon couldn't stop looking at your chest, body changed to bear and care for his child; it was only fair he paid back. 
So when Gaz asked if he could hold the baby, it was Simon who helped you take the baby out of the little koala backpack; letting him hold it. 
And with a weak excuse, took you to his bedroom. Barely managing to close the door before bending you over his desk, pulling your pants down and stuffing your cunt with his thick fingers. Giving you barely any prep before the strain on his hardening shaft was too much for him to keep it away from your soaked cunt. Groaning in your ear as he thrusts fast and hard into your sweet pussy, rubbing your clit with his fingertip making you cling into the desk. 
“Such a good fucking mama you are.” He moans into your ear. “Driving me fucking crazy every time I look at you, so fucking beautiful, so fucking breathtaking, darling.”
Half of what he says doesn't make sense and the other half you can't even hear from over the sounds of the moans. 
“Gonna fuck you full of my child again, gonna keep you barefoot and pregnant, mama.” He moans again, kissing your neck from behind as his free hand keeps roaming your body, needing to feel more and more of you. “Looking like a bloody goddess with my child, gonna keep fucking you until it fucking catches, and then again, and again, and again… Do you want that, mama? Do you want it as much as me?”
“Fuck, yes!” You moan back, just as fuck out as him. The unforgiving pace pushing the breath out of your lungs, your legs barely able to hold your weight but it's not like Simon would let you fall. 
More and more words and promises keep falling from Simon's mouth, making it hard for your orgasm to take any longer to wash over you. 
But then Simon turns you around, laying you on your back and pulling your legs up, your knees beside your head; before he starts to thrust into you again, his happy trail rubbing against your clit. 
“Gonna make it catch, gonna fuck you so deep it is not even going to spill. Gonna get you fucking pregnant again, and this time I'm not gonna go away for a fucking second. Gotta give the little shit a sibling, ah?”
The stretch of your legs being pulled so back into your head making it almost uncomfortable if you were able to think at the moment. Your hands grabbing into his forearms to steady yourself. 
“The best fucking mama in the world you are, ah? Taking such good care of him.” He groans, engulfing your boob with his enormous hand. “Getting these tits fucking massive just for him, fucking little shit don't know how lucky he is to get such a good fucking moma.”
And you are ashamed to admit it, but the disgusting praises are enough to throw you over the edge; your head falling back against the desk with a loud cry of his name. 
“Fucking hell, darling.” He groans just like you. “That's it, choke my fucking cock, love. Milk it dry, suck it in. Fuck! Such a fucking perfect cunt, I would fucking live here. Sucking me in so good, such a greedy fucking cunt. I'm gonna fuck you so deep, I'm gonna give you twins, darling.”
And he doesn't give you time to breathe, his hips slapping hard against yours making you mewl at the overstimulation. Clenching down at the prolonged orgasm. 
You hear him groan over your exhausted body. “Fuuuck… Shit, love. Yeah… just like that, take it in, love, take it in. Hold it in, don't let it go to waste love.”
You fill him spill deep inside of you, pulling your legs impossibly higher lifting your butt off the desk, bending you in half with your cunt completely exposed. 
“Such a beautiful fucking cunt.” He says before leaning down, kissing your clit as if he was pecking your lips, only for him to literally make out with your cunt. Making you hiss and pull his hair back to make him stop and be able to breathe for a second. 
He pulls his head back, only to accumulate the saliva and arousal on his mouth and spit it back over your cunt making you shudder. He lowers your legs, impaling you back on his still hard shaft, pulling the breath from your lungs once more. 
“There you go, mama. Stuffed and plugged, so there is no risk.” He says, letting your legs rest down as he moves his hands to each side of your hips, pushing you impossibly closer to him, hitting as deep as he has ever reached. Slightly moving you up and down so your clit rubs against his pelvic bone, making you whine as you clench around him.
“Simon… Si, I need to fucking breathe.” You whine, trying to grab his hand.
“Nah, you got this…” He says without looking at your face, completely hypnotised by the way your folds part to take his cock in. “You are doing amazing, sweetheart.” 
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Is only hours later, that Simon comes out of his room. Clothes changed, showered and without you (who is currently sleeping on his bed, too exhausted to even stay awake), and he walks up to the mess hall, where he assumed the boys are. 
Picking his beloved son from his captain's hands. “There you are, my boy.” He says softly, picking up the baby that looks ridiculously small in his arms. “Time for bed.” 
“Oi, LT!” Soap calls him. “So when is his sibling being born?”
He looks at Soap, his expression changing to a stern one. “Don't be disgusting, Johnny. That's my family you are talking about, have some decency”.
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Taglist:
@crashtestbunny @going-to-ikea-for-the-fries @waiting-so-long @mothymunson @cod-z 
@lyralein @whos-fran @thevoidwriting @sklt987659 @dumb12bvtch1212 
@thatonepupkai @darkangel4121  @spadekip @herefor-tojis-tits @soupinasock  
@arbesa-mind @cmbghost @multifandomheathenannie @tooloudarts @panikk-attackkk 
@reap3erslov3 @mothsdrabbles @ghosts-hoe @cassiecasluciluce @sleepdeprivedkat 
@lunamoonbby @hatterripper31 @contractedcriteria @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @fraserbraw 
@rosiehale23 @keiva1000 @sw33tsnow @loveandplanet @sobbingnshtting 
@dprmoon @simpsallthetime1997 @ladyxtiger @soapsmohawk-16 @nina6708 
@katreintjie @sacvh @archenillo @thesinsoflust @sodavrr 
@yuki2129 @mikaronn @idk-justkane @shanhalen @thatoneslvt 
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otdiaftg · 1 day
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The King's Men - Epilogue
Day: Saturday, April 27th / 28th* Time: 3:10 AM EST
Neil waits off to one side while the others file out, knowing Andrew will be the last to leave. Wymack knows better than to stick around and follows his Foxes down the hall. Andrew brings Neil's duffel to him. Neil takes it but drops it off to one side. Andrew studies it for a moment, then shrugs out of his own bag and puts a hand to the wall near Neil's head. "Your close calls are getting old," Andrew says. "I thought you knew how to run." Neil affects confusion. "I thought you told me to stop running." "Survival tip: no one likes a smart mouth." "Except you," Neil reminds him. A year ago Neil had been a scared nobody, hating himself for signing the Foxes' contract and counting down days until he moved in with Wymack. Tonight he is the starting striker for the first-ranked team in the NCAA. In two years he'll be captain, and in four he'll graduate from Palmetto State. Neil will find a professional team first and then fight tooth and nail to make the cut for Court. Neil can already imagine the weight of an Olympics medal around his neck. He doesn't even care what color it is so long as it is his. Better than that bright future is what he already has: a court that will always be home, a family who'll never give up on him, and Andrew, who for once hasn't wasted their time denying that this thing between them might actually mean something to both of them. Neil didn't even notice the silence at first, too distracted by his dizzying thoughts. Now he can't help but smile and pull Andrew in. This is everything he wanted, everything he needed, and Neil is never letting go.
END OF ALL FOR THE GAME SERIES.
Art commissioned and used with permission by the incredible @hamrikaa!
*Due to the Leap Year, I have opted to highlight the day rather than the date to keep the events in occurrence to the 2007 year. I will continue to mark both days accordingly.
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rreids · 2 days
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ok ok ok i see this lingerie set all the time on instagram and ive always wondered how spencer would react you buying/wearing it if you are doing fic requests 👀
https://www.adoreme.com/gynger-white-1
ANGEL • S. REID X READER
fem reader; fingering; kissing; praise and compliments; description of the linked lingerie above; mentions of alcohol consumption; spencer loves you; ~1.5k words
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“You look pretty today,” Spencer tells you, breaking the lull in conversation. You’re watching a movie — though neither of you are really paying attention by now, wrapped up in soft whispers and gentle loving caresses. 
You shy from the attention, burying your face in his shoulder.
“Really!” His voice pitches up a little. “You’re beautiful,”
You smile into his skin, curling into his chest fully. “Thank you, Spence,”
He hums when you press a kiss to the column of his throat, relaxing as you place more and more on him. “Do you always get so affectionate when complimented?”
You shake your head and meet his eyes, head a mess of affection and want for the man in front of you. “Just when I really like the person they're from…” you mumble, toying with the bottom of your shirt as you look down. “‘nd when I’m a little wine drunk.”
Spencer laughs softly, fondly, sits up enough to press his lips to yours. He’s been drinking some, too, but he always cuts himself off early and has a higher tolerance. You sigh, curl your fingers into his shoulders and move forward without breaking contact. You slide into his lap, head tilting as he deepens the kiss easily, fingers kneading and rolling the soft flesh of your thighs as he guides your rhythm.
Each time you push for it to move, he pulls back slightly with a smile, looks at you so sweet, and then he kisses you slowly. So slowly. You want nothing more than for him to speed up, but the syrupy and molasses-like slowness and sweetness has heat bubbling up in your core. Without even realizing it, you’re sighing into his kiss, letting out soft gasping sounds of need as you seek friction — hips grinding small circles against him, pressure increasing as you find just the right angle. 
He makes no moves to stop you, but he doesn’t help you either. Eventually, he can’t stop smiling against you and pulls back just enough to look down at the needy circles you’re making against him. Spencer swallows, words dying on his tongue when you shudder, a bolt of pleasure making you dig your nails into his shoulders more harshly. He winces but allows it, pressing forward with more urgency and a deeper kiss. He groans against you when your movements brush against his arousal and you quiver in his grip, muscles tense and skin hot like a live wire.
“Spencer,” you whisper, unable to stop your rocking even then.
“Honey,” his voice is gravely and low, eyes darker as he studies you. He’s watching every small change to your expression as you grind against him, and you whine when he restrains himself from guiding you — he clearly wants to, hands tightening on your hips to the point you know you’ll have bruises.
“More,” you rush out the plea in a sigh, pulling at his shirt. “Anything, just want you.”
“You have me.” Spencer reassures, voice thick. He clears his throat. “I’m all yours, angel girl.”
The pet name spurs you, lips quirking up in a smile. He catches it, brows raising as he licks his own lips.
“What?”
“Nothing,” you’re a terrible liar, even more so when you’re lying to a behavior analyst (you prefer to call him a mind reader), and your long-term boyfriend.
“Really?” He humors you, tempering his smile to look more neutral. “Nothing you want to tell me?”
“Nope!” You chirp, too eager. You guide his hands from your stilled hips to the zipper of hoodie. “Something to show you.”
“I thought there was nothing,” Spencer hums teasingly, slowly tugging the cool metal down your body. His remarks die on his tongue as you shrug the fabric back off your shoulders and down, revealing the lingerie you’d bought.
There’s a ribbon over your breasts, presenting a perfect present to him, a mesh window below it to peer into your cleavage. The ribbon guides his eyes down your waist, and he wonders what the panties look like beneath your shorts.
Spencer searches your face briefly, catching your smile as his eyes fall helplessly back to your chest. “So…– so pretty,” he manages, stumbling over the words. He raises his hands to trail the ribbon and press against the thin mesh window, feeling the weight and heat of your skin through the sheer fabric.
“You like it?” You ask, more so to force words out of him than for reassurance.
He snaps his gaze to your face and nods, kissing you quickly. “You’re perfect, angel. All dolled up like a present,” he slides one bra strap off your shoulder and kisses the skin as he lets it fall. “My perfect gift,”
He tells you often you’re all he ever wants, and as much as that frustrates you when you’re trying to buy him a birthday present, it serves now as a stoke to the flames of your desire. All he wants is you and your beauty, all he can think of is your body.
He unclasps the back of the bra, tugging the ribbon playfully in a pretend untying before tugging it from you. His head dips, pressing kisses and sucking on the sensitive skin. Not enough to leave marks, you always complained about the tenderness, but enough that you arch up into the heat of his mouth and tug him closer by his hair.
“Spencer,” you whisper. “Wanna see my panties?”
He exhales softly, like the amused snort he does through his nose. “Would I ever say no?”
You tilt your head at him. “Well, sorry I wanted explicit consent,”
Spencer shakes his head fondly, kissing your cheek. “Thank you, honey. But yes, I want to see. I want to see all of you,”
You stand and turn so he gets the best sight of your panties as you slide the shorts down — the ribbon over your butt, the smaller strip of fabric that cups the flesh in a way that accentuates every piece of you. You twirl and he presses a kiss to your stomach. It’s ticklish, makes you giggle, and his chin digs into your skin a little as he looks up at you, tracing shapes on your inner thighs so lightly it almost stings from the sensitivity.
You blink at him and he only huffs a laugh, trailing up to the wet patch on your panties. Your knees buckle a little, but he catches you like he always does, guides you back down to him and his mouth. You kiss him like he’s the air you need, whining softly in the back of your throat as he snaps the waistband of the white fabric against you before tugging them to the side. The simultaneous friction of the fabric and his fingers, finding purchase and a rhythm in your slickness, has you shuddering. 
His fingers are always calloused perfectly for this, giving a roughness that contrasts the gentle crook of his fingers and the methodical pace, a perfect mind-numbing mix of everything him. His gentleness betrays him even when you ask him to be rougher; in stolen and short kisses; the affectionate brush of his hand over your insecurities and most sensitive skin; in the way he adjusts perfectly to your non-verbal tells before you even know to voice something.
He’s perfectly attuned to you and your body.
“You’re dripping,” Spencer whispers, awed, and you realize then the sloppy sounds your cunt makes on his hand. You squirm but he shushes you, clicking his tongue. “Such a good girl. Always so ready and willing,”
You whine, grinding down into the palm of his hand as he crooks his fingers just right and eases just that bit further into you. You clench at the sensation, eyes fluttering shut when you can’t handle the sight of his pretty face and intentness on your pleasure in tandem with the feeling anymore.
“Come on,” he urges. “Let go for me,”
He keeps working you, thumb rolling your clit in a mind-numbing tempo that perfectly offsets and melds with his fingers.
“There you go,” he whispers, awed, as your body arches and tenses as the pleasure crescendos and crashes into you in waves, leaving you whimpering and chest heaving as you try to come back from the sea. Spencer’s got you, as he always does, kissing your sweat-slicked skin and whispering praises, a soothing thumb (the clean one) running over your cheek into your nuzzle into his hand. “You did so well, angel,”
You reach for his sweatpants, but he presses back just out of reach. “Give yourself a second.”
“But I want you,” you urge, and Spencer only smiles, unabashed and unreserved fondness.
“And you’ll have it. I’m not going anywhere.”
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trying something new both in writing style and characterization bc i am frustrated with how i do both 🫡
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