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sinner-as-saint · 5 months

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run for your life

Mob!Bucky x Reader

Summary: He was away from the city for a while, chasing after some bastards who betrayed him. But the traitors were no longer breathing now and Bucky Barnes was finally able to come home to the city he ruled. Mostly, he was excited to come back and see his girl again. However when he got to the strip club where you worked as a waitress, he didn’t find you there. They told him you didn’t work there anymore. No one knew where you went, or why you left. Nobody even knew your real name. Now it was up to him to search the whole wide world to find a nameless girl – one he was obsessively, mindlessly in love with.

Themes: slight stalker!bucky, possessive!bucky, mild degrading kink, smut, FLUFF, opposite aesthetics, mild daddy kink (nicknames only), cosy little town vibes

a/n: some fluffy mob!bucky to end the year <3 Thank you so much for always supporting my silly little fics. Merry Christmas my darlings, and happy New Year!! See you soon ;)

He didn't know where exactly he would end up locating you, but finding you in a cosy, small, coastal town in the south of France was not on his list.

You being the owner of a gourmet bakery was not on his list either. Bucky was confused, surprised, but mostly confused. How did this happen? At first, when Sam came to deliver him the news of your location that morning, Bucky didn’t believe him. Had Sam not been Bucky’s oldest, most loyal friend Bucky would’ve never believed him at all.

“I’m gonna need you to stop being a dumbass and go find this girl!” Sam, ever the voice of reason yelled at Bucky who had been drowning in his sorrows. “It’s been months, and I can’t keep covering for your ass. I have my own shit to do, my own men to command.” He used that cool, authoritative voice of his. “Pull yourself together, Buck. Go find her.”

Sam was right. Of course he was. He always was. And it had really been months since that damned night…

—

Bucky couldn’t wait to get out of his plane the moment it landed. It was late at night, but the perfect time to go to the club. He had missed it. Well, not the whole club really. Bucky had missed you.

He had a… special connection with you. His girl. His only girl. His favourite girl.

This time, he thought, he would do whatever he can to solidify whatever was happening between the two of you. Maybe he’d even get you to go on a real date with him. Maybe that would lead to something more. He was smiling to himself just thinking about it.

He often thought back to the night you met. He was at the club after a long day of being the dark ruler he was. All he wanted was a drink and a pretty woman on his lap. That’s when he found you.

Right as he walked in, you caught his eye. Walking around serving drinks, wearing a little see-through red dress that brought every man you walked past to his knees.

Once he got to his booth, Bucky called you over. You walked towards him sheepishly.

“I’ve never seen you around here before, beautiful.” He said, patting his thigh. He noticed the way you hesitated. Must be new, he thought.

You carefully perched on his lap, holding your empty metal tray to your chest. Bucky smirked as he looked at it, like you were putting a makeshift barrier between the two of you. When you remained quiet and squirmy, Bucky spoke up again.

“Come on, babygirl. Talk to me, it’s okay.” He whispered at his nuzzled your neck. “I don’t bite. Unless you ask nicely, then I might.”

His warm breath against your skin tickled. You chuckled as you pulled away to look at him. “Um, I’m just a waitress. I’m not supposed to…” You trailed off. Both of you were aware of the no-contact ‘rule’. But there was a natural, unexplainable spark there that neither of you could ignore.

“Hmm,” His chest rumbled. “How about we go somewhere private?” He whispered into your ear and noticed the way you shivered.

You hung your head, clutching your metal tray. “Waitresses aren’t supposed to go into the VIP rooms, sir.” You said quietly, just loud enough for him to hear you above the sensual music.

Bucky smirked. Then leaned in and whispered, “I suppose I can bend the rules a little given I co-own the club.”

You froze and went to stand up immediately, already apologising but he wrapped his arm around your waist, keeping you on his lap.

“It’s okay, babygirl. You’re not in trouble, I promise.”

The two of you ended up in one of the VIP rooms. Nothing happened, you just kissed and talked and kissed some more. Bucky promised to come back. And he did. For months. Again and again and each time he did, you were drawn to him like he was gravity from the very moment he walked into the room.

And that night he landed after being away for weeks, he expected you to run right into his arms the moment he’d enter the club like you always did. He even got you a nice little gift to make up for the time that he’d been away. It was a rare, red diamond choker. He could already imagine how it would look around your neck. Like a brand. His.

But then he got to the club. And he noticed everyone was avoiding his eyes almost anxiously. And his girl was nowhere to be seen. He searched for you in the main area for a while, then even searched the VIP rooms, vowing to commit horrible crimes if he ever found you in there with another man.

But no.

He called Sam, who co-owned the club, and Sam had no idea who he was talking about. Bucky asked the staff members, and one bartender finally told him that you’d resigned a few weeks ago. And no one knew where you went. He asked for your full name, but no one knew that either.

Not even Sam. “I didn’t even know we had a new waitress, Buck. I have more important shit to worry about.” He’d said, adding to the burning sensation in Bucky’s chest.

“She left me.”

Sam had no idea what his best friend was babbling about. And during the many months that followed, Bucky was a mess. A mess like Sam had never seen before. Frantically scanning country after country, searching for a girl with no name. He was in love, and he wasn’t giving up. He would find his girl come what may.

—

But now Bucky knew where you were.

And he was more confused than ever. He had even more questions.

Bucky spent a whole week in that little town. Watching you, learning your routine, observing and questioning. He disguised himself as a local and always kept his distance even though his hands itched to touch you.

At first he was bothered by how you were fine with living the same day everyday. Your routine seemed boring at first, but the more he watched, the more he realised it was sort of therapeutic. The normality of it all.

He rented an apartment on the other side of the street from your bakery, and he spent hours watching you.

You lived right above the bakery. A quaint apartment, with flower pots all around the french windows. Sometimes when you forgot to turn the lights off at night, Bucky spent the whole night spying on you, counting your breaths as you slept on your couch in front of the TV.

You’d wake up at the crack of dawn, then you’d feed your dogs. He noticed you had two. Lazy, both of them. Then you’d get downstairs and within half an hour, the cool air that entered his apartment carried the smell of the sea and baked goods.

All he wanted was to cross the cobblestone street and drag you to his bed, demand answers while fucking some sense into you. But the more he watched you, the more his anger diminished. Temporarily.

The genuine smile on your face as you served your loyal customers all day, especially the ones who always came early in the morning on their way to work. The occasional sound of your voice or your laughter that slipped past whenever someone didn’t close the door right. The sound of children squealing and laughing whenever you gave away leftover baked goods or donuts in the evenings. How you knew almost everyone by name. How sometimes you invited neighbours over for wine nights. How you went on little walks in late, cool evenings, forcing your lazy pets to walk but then ending up having to carry them on the way back. They were spoiled, he realised. He hated to admit that he was jealous of the damned dogs who got so much of your attention while he starved for it.

He wasn’t angry by the end of that first week of spying, he was just hurting. How dare you live a whole new life without him? How dare you laugh and seem like you don’t miss him? He’d just spent months looking for you and here you were, just going about your day like you didn’t care? Like none of those nights you’d spent together mattered?

Meanwhile he was shaking just reminiscing the way your touch felt across his skin. He remembered the first time the two of you crossed that line in one of the VIP rooms…

You were wearing that red dress again. Fucking tease, he hissed each time you moved or squirmed on his lap.

“Baby, please,” He groaned. “Just… let me touch you. Daddy will make you feel good, so good babygirl, I promise.” He pleaded, hands caressing your soft, warm thighs.

You shook your head, popping another one of those chocolates he brought you into your mouth and sucking your fingers after. Torturing him.

“We can’t,” You insisted, with nothing but mischief in your eyes as you looked at him. “You made these rules yourself, remember?” You chuckled when he groaned again when you straddled him properly.

“I don’t give a shit about rules.” He hissed, nuzzling your neck. Slowly, he kissed up and down your neck. “I just wanna taste you. That’s it. Just a taste.”

That’s how he found himself on his knees, face in between your thighs. His skilled tongue making you whine and whimper as you tugged on his hair. Bucky hummed in appreciation the more he tasted you.

“Come on daddy’s face, baby…”

That’s it.

Bucky decided he would go see you the next morning. He would drag you back home if he had to, but he wouldn’t spend another day without you. Who did you think you were? No one just tosses him aside like this. He’d remind you who he was and then you’d both go home right away.

—

Bucky woke up to a thunderstorm. Weather around here was unpredictable. He got out of bed and immediately looked outside to find your bakery empty. No customers in sight because of the heavy rain, lightning and thunder. The golden light was on though.

He decided it was time to go have a talk with you. He promised not to lose his temper. He would go in there calmly, talk it out with you. Ask you what the fuck you are doing here, and then he’d take you home.

But that ended up not happening.

Bucky crossed the slippery cobblestone street, walked into your comforting, sweet smelling bakery and froze. He froze right there at the entrance.

As did you. Standing there behind the wooden counter, oven mittens in your hand and apron in another, you stared at Bucky with nothing but pure shock and surprise on your face. A thousand thoughts, mainly questions, crossed your mind.

What is he doing here? How did he find you? Why is he dressed casually like a local, wearing soft colours instead of his usual suits? How long has he been here? What is he doing here?

You let out a little gasp. “Bucky?”

Wrong move, apparently. Because his demeanour changed in a nanosecond. His calm and collected-ness was forgotten instantly. Jaws clenched, with a murderous look in his eyes, he walked closer, more like charged at you, and around the counter before you could even get a word out.

He had you pinned to the nearest wall before you could process it all. Knocking down a framed picture in the process. Towering above you, he looked like he was beyond pissed.

“Bucky, I—,”

“Shut up.” He hissed, voice cold with bitterness and anger. He watched how you shivered when he pinned your wrists to the wall on either side of your head. “Shut the fuck up.”

He leaned closer, chest pressing against yours leaving no space in between. He closed his eyes and sighed for a moment, trying his hardest to see reason but he was angry. So angry he couldn’t think.

“Who the fuck do you think you are?” He spoke with such a low voice that you trembled against him, causing him to tighten his grip around your wrists, surely bruising them. You didn’t care.

You winced, “I can explain.” Fuck, you’d missed him too. It had been months since you last saw him. He was just as handsome as you remembered. His hair was a little longer now, his beard a little thicker. But he made your heart race just the same. “Please Bucky,” You whispered, “let me explain everything to you.”

“No.” He growled before pressing his mouth to yours, angrily. Like he wanted his kiss to hurt. And it did.

His rough facial hair scratched your skin, his teeth nibbled on and bit your lips. His hands damn near crushed your wrists in his strong grip. And he didn’t give you even the briefest second to breathe. He kissed you just like how he imagined he would do once he found you. Ravenously. Pouring everything he felt into it. Desperation, anger, hurt, obsession. He couldn’t get enough.

“Bucky…” You gasped against his lips when he finally pulled away. Breathing fast, you tried to get a look at him but he just seemed even more angry.

“Turn around,” He mumbled, forcing you to turn around anyway. Fuck, the sight of you in that long, flowy, sundress was doing things to him. He was never this bothered when you used to parade around in your little see-through dresses, but somehow the sight of you in this pink, floral dress was making him act like a caveman.

His movements were rash and angry. He almost tore your dress off of you while he shoved his rough hand in between your legs and touched you where you desperately wanted him to. You whined and trembled against the cool wall when he slid a finger in, fucking you with it while he hissed into your ear.

“I should punish you for what you did to me,” His deep voice made his chest rumble against your back. “I should tie you up and fuck you however I want.”

Your dress was partially off, bunched and only hanging on around your waist. Being so dishevelled made this even dirtier. You were moaning by now, hoping the heavy rain would blur your actions from anyone who walked by the shop. Or god forbid, walk in.

“How dare you think you can just leave me?” He demanded, sliding another finger inside you and making your body come alive.

You were embarrassingly wet at this point, and the sounds your body made as he finger-fucked you were lewd. But you couldn’t get enough.

More, more, more. You mentally chanted.

Bucky wasn’t having the silent treatment, so he smacked your thigh to get your attention. You yelped. Your skin stung as he smacked it again, on the same spot. Harder this time. You cried out even louder as he kept taunting you. “Answer me, you fucking brat!” His lips brushed against the back of your neck as he spoke. “Why did you leave me?”

You cried as he kept fucking you with his fingers you even as you came. His fingers sliding in and out with ease now. The sounds you made were wanton. “You… you left first.” You tried to argue. But failed miserably.

He chuckled in that dark and dangerous way of his. “I left for work.” He said, “And I promised you I’d be back.” He reached deeper inside you, curling his fingers just enough to make you mutter incoherent things. “Why didn’t you wait for me?”

“Please, please, please…” You begged. “Please I need to come, Bucky please.”

“Oh?” He chuckled again, slowing down his movements purposely. “No one touched you, huh?” He playfully bit on your exposed shoulder. “You’re so fucking wet it’s dripping down my hand, babygirl.” He boasted. “Is it because no one has touched you these past few months? Hmm?”

“Yes…” You had tears streaming down your face, and you nodded breathlessly. “Please…”

But instead of making you come all over his fingers, Bucky pulled away for a brief moment. You couldn’t see him, but you could hear him undoing his trousers. And moments later, he was rubbing the tip of his cock against your wet folds. You shivered in pleasure.

“I’m gonna teach you what happens to people who think they can run from me, babygirl.” He growled as he pushed his cock into you, making you cry out loud as he stretched you out.

After months of not having him, right now he felt huge inside you. Just like that, memories of nights spent with him came flooding back in. You moaned as his fingers found your clit again, rubbing it in sync with his thrusts.

His hand gripped you by the hips, holding you against him as he sped up into you, fucking you like he hated you. Like it was punishment. He dipped his head into the crook of your neck and licked, and bit on your skin as he fucked into you relentlessly, earning more and more moans out of you each time his cock stroked your walls.

“Did you think I’d never find you?” He asked, fucking into you. “I bet you thought you’d gotten rid of me, hmm?”

You’d missed him too. He could tell by the way you were starting to clench around him already. Bucky nibbled at the skin under your ear and you lost all control you had left. Your thoughts became cloudy and all you could focus on was how good he felt inside you.

“See, it didn’t have to be like this, baby…” he mumbled angrily against your skin while he fucked you like an animal, “I could be nice and gentle with your body, but you just had to be a fucking brat and leave me with no warning.” He spat, growling in your ear as he pounded into you, your chest slamming into the wall with each thrust. It hurt in the best way.

“You feel so fucking good, baby,” He moaned against your ear and the sound sent shivers down your back. Your legs started to shake as he quickened his pace, pounding into you mercilessly.

The pleasure, the pain, the heat of him… was too much and you couldn’t hold back anymore.

“Bucky–,” You choked on your words as you came undone, walls clenching around him, and a loud moan erupting from your mouth as he made you come hard. It was almost blinding.

His thrusts became irregular as he came right after you did, cock throbbing against your pulsating walls, moaning out loud when he felt your walls pulsating violently around him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” He came while biting down hard on your shoulder. So hard that even you cried out, still coming down from your high as you felt him spill deep inside you.

That bite on your shoulder hurt. And like a chain reaction, everything began to hurt. Having him here hurt. Memories of being with him in the city, in the dark rooms of that club hurt. Realising how fast your life changed hurt.

You didn’t realise you were sobbing quietly until you heard Bucky apologising profusely. Suddenly no longer angry. No longer feeling betrayed.

“Fuck, baby. I’m so sorry.” He kissed that sore spot softly, his bite mark on your shoulder repeatedly as he wrapped his arms around you, securing you in the comfort of his embrace. “I don’t know what came over me, babygirl. I’m so sorry, please look at me. Hey, hey,” He pulled away and turned you so you faced him, still with tears in your eyes. “Babygirl, I’m so sorry.” He whispered, wiping your tears away, then kissing your face repeatedly.

You remained like that for a few minutes. Arms wrapped around one another, standing there against that wall while it rained like hell outside. Bucky didn’t stop apologising.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have been an animal like this with you, I—,”

You cut him off finally, “Shh, it’s okay.” You pulled away from his warm chest to look up at him. “I needed this.” You said, sniffling as you gently cupped his rough cheek, caressing his face with your thumb. “I needed you like this.”

He just hugged you close again, kissing the top of your head. “I’m sorry.” He apologised one final time. “I’ll listen, I promise. I’ll listen to whatever you have to say.”

You smiled faintly at him. “Then I should lock up down here and we can go upstairs. I don’t want to scare my neighbours by risking them finding us like this.” You looked down at your partially torn dress and Bucky’s unbuttoned trousers.

Much to your surprise, Bucky said, “You go ahead, I’ll close and lock up.”

You frowned at him even as you desperately tried to get the top of your sundress to cover your chest. “You wouldn’t know how to…” You trailed off as realisation set in. He was a calculated, smart man. He didn’t just apparate on your doorstep with no planning. “You’ve been watching me.” You stated, raising an eyebrow at him.

Bucky gave you a rare, guilty look.

You sighed and shook your head. “I guess I chose this life by getting involved with you.” You gave him a faint smile. “Alright then, lock it. Leave the key in the little basket by the door.” You started walking towards the stairs, then turned around again and said, “Make sure the windows are properly locked too, because of the rain and stuff.”

“Yes ma’am,” Bucky nodded.

You smirked at him.

With that you took the stairs and Bucky watched you go with a fond smile on his face. No one ever ordered him around. He hated it. But coming from you, he quite liked it.

Bucky chuckled at himself because never in his life had he ever imagined he would one day be closing up a bakery in a small town, all for the woman he’s obsessively in love with. But he didn’t mind it one bit.

After following your instructions and double checking the windows, he made his way upstairs as well. Again, he didn’t know what he expected your place to look like – and all that spying only allowed him glimpses of your apartment – but he never expected your space to look so…

Pink. With occasional gold accents. Pale pink couch, the one you often fell asleep on while watching TV, and fluffy white pillows and rugs to go with. Paintings hanging on even paler pink walls. The kitchen he couldn’t quite see but he assumed it’d have to be all white. Pink dog beds, with fluffy balls of brown fur sleeping on them – wearing pink collars no less.

He couldn’t see your bedroom from the living room given the door was closed but given the pink, fluffy robe and socks you wore he could imagine just how pink it must be.

“It’s so girly.” He commented, as if surprised. Maybe he was a little. After all, he knew you as the seductive goddess he met almost every night at the club. He never realised that it was all just a show, that it was all just a persona at work. In a way, stepping into your space felt so intimate. He liked it.

You chuckled. “Coquette, please.” You corrected as you handed him a glass of red wine while he took a seat beside you. He did look a little out of place in your apartment, a dark and broody man like him. But then again, he was here and that’s all that mattered.

He turned to look at you and couldn’t resist holding your hand and pulling you onto his lap again. “Come here,” He said, “I’ve missed you.”

As you straddled his lap, your robe exposed some of your shoulder and Bucky saw the very noticeable bite mark he left on you. He grimaced when he saw it. He placed his wine glass to the side and traced the bite mark with his thumb carefully.

“I’m sorry, babygirl.” He whispered, leaning in to nuzzle your neck and kiss the bite mark. And breathe in your scent. Fuck, he’d missed it so much. “You smell a little different. Fruitier.”

You giggled when his hair tickled your skin. “I made blueberry compote earlier this morning. Perhaps that’s why.”

You could feel him smiling against your skin. Then he pulled away to look at you. His hands shamelessly slid under your robe, eager to touch your skin. Relishing it this time, not in a feral hurry like he was earlier. He seemed visibly calmer too.

“We used to spend hours like this at the club, remember?” He spoke, and immediately you were overwhelmed with nostalgia.

Hours, days, weeks, months. Some days back then you would wake up in the morning already excited to see Bucky in the evening. And it wasn’t because it was all sexual. So many nights all you two did was drink, laugh and talk about everything. He once told you that apart from Sam, you were his only real friend.

Bucky kissed you, breaking you out of your reverie surely thinking of the past as well. It was a slow, gentle kiss. It was consuming you. His hands caressed your thighs which were still a little sore from earlier. You winced in pain when he massaged the spot where he spanked you.

Bucky pulled away from the kiss, apologising again as he kissed down your chin. “I’m sorry, babygirl.”

You smiled at him after taking a sip of your wine. “Stop pretending as if we were always vanilla or that this is scandalous in any way shape or form.” You chuckled as you leaned in to whisper in his ear, “We both know this was nothing compared to how we used to be.”

Bucky smiled, a little sadly. “I missed you.” He repeated. “Tell me,” He said, “Tell me everything.”

You finished your wine. “What do you want to know?”

“Why did you start working at the club?” He caught the look of sadness that suddenly appeared on your face upon hearing the question.

“I… I had to drop out of uni because my grandparents fell sick.” You explained. “Mom and dad were travelling for work at the time, and I was the only one who could take care of grandma and grandpa. The treatments and all ended up costing a little more than what we had so I needed a job that paid well, I also needed one that would allow me to be flexible with my time so I could take care of my grandparents.”

Bucky nodded, “Hence the club.”

You nodded in confirmation.

“Your parents never intervened? So you could finish your education?” He questioned.

“No.” You said, almost emotionless. “When they found out what I was doing, where I was working to earn the extra money we needed… they kind of disowned me. And vowed to never talk to me again.” You chuckled, humourlessly.

“They don’t deserve you.” Bucky said quickly, wrapping his arms around you and hugging you close. “You were so brave baby, I wish you would’ve told me all of this.”

You slid your fingers into his hair and massaged his scalp gently. “You were already taking care of me.” You said, “You mended my heart a little each night when I saw you.”

“I wish I could’ve done more.” He kissed along your collarbones, then froze again as if he remembered something. “I almost forgot,” He said, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a sleek black box. “I got you something.” Then clarified, “Well, I got you this months ago. I would’ve given it to you had you not run away from me.”

You rolled your eyes at him, “I didn’t run from you, I–,”

He cut you off with a finger on your lips. “Tell me about that part in a minute,” He opened the slender black box to reveal the red diamond choker inside. “I had this made for you.” He watched your face intently.

“Bucky…” You hesitantly reached for it, running your fingers over the beauty of it. It was a simple design. Elegant, timeless. Way too expensive. “I can’t take this,” You began protesting, “It’s too much.”

Bucky made a face and said, “Oh shut up.” He was already clasping it around your neck before you could protest any further. “It’s a gift from daddy,” He whispered against the corner of your lips. “You deserve it, babygirl.”

When he pulled away to look at you, his heart almost broke again at the sight of the tears in your eyes.

“What is it?” He asked, wiping your tears away for the second time today. “Is it that ugly?”

You laughed through the tears. “No, it’s the prettiest thing I own.” You sniffled. “The only piece of real jewellery in fact.” You leaned in and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”

“Remind me to get you a whole collection.” Bucky pulled you closer and kissed you deeply.

Then it turned into something more and by the time the afternoon rolled around, the two of you had lost count how many times you’d made love on your pink couch. Slow touches and cuddles, and soft kisses always resulted in the two of you fucking again.

—

In the late afternoon, while snacking on random things Bucky realised you still hadn’t explained how you ended up here.

“Grandma and grandpa’s bakery.” You explained, watching the rain pour outside. “They left it to me. They died within weeks of each other,” You said with a melancholic smile on your face, “I always knew that would happen. They loved each other too much to live without one another for too long.”

You turned to look at Bucky who pulled you onto his lap again and held you as tightly as possible. You weren’t crying this time, but being held felt nice.

You continued, “I had funerals to plan, I had to pack up my life and move all the way here, I had to take on the responsibility of the bakery and renovate this apartment. And you were already gone at the time so…” You sighed. “I didn’t know if I should leave a note or not. I didn’t know if you were actually coming back or–,”

“I would never abandon you. I thought you knew that.” Bucky said, a little annoyed at that. “I made you a promise, did you not–,”

You couldn’t help but argue, “Yeah well, I didn’t know if what we had was real enough for you to come back to.”

Bucky frowned. “Baby…”

You gave him a small smile, and pressed your forehead against his, rubbing your noses together. “I know now. It is.”

When you finally pulled away from his addicting embrace you said, “I’m gonna get started on dinner. You can shower in there,” You pointed at your bedroom door as you got up from the couch. Bucky tried to grab you again but you pulled away laughing. “The weather is clearing up, we can have dinner outside on the patio.”

You threw him a wink and made your way into the kitchen.

Bucky finally got up and walked into your bedroom. Just as he imagined, the place was all white, gold, and pink. He actually laughed when he walked into the bathroom and found it pale pink as well. He’d grown to love it too by now.

–

You were busy at the stove, making your best seafood pasta, when you felt strong arms wrapping around you from behind.

“How’d you like my bedroom?” You asked, smirking already as you pictured him in your very girly space.

“It’s very pink. The bed looks comfy,” He whispered into your ear, “I’m gonna fuck you in it later.”

You chuckled and passed him another glass of wine. As you turned to face him again, you couldn’t help but laugh out loud. There he was, one of the scariest men you knew, standing in your grandma-core kitchen, wearing a fluffy white robe with pink clouds on it.

Bucky rolled his eyes, “Oh don’t comment on it. I can already hear Sam laughing his ass off and he’s not even here.”

You laughed even harder before you kissed his cheek. “It suits you.” You said. Then you handed him a couple of plates and pointed at the patio which could be seen from the kitchen window, “Can you set the table?”

He finished his wine and then mumbled on his way out like a grumpy old man, “First close the bakery, now set the table,” He shouted from outside, “You know, if this whole thing was your elaborate plan to hire me as your domestic helper, you could’ve just asked, babygirl.”

You laughed at him from inside the kitchen. You shook your head as you watched him. Wearing your fluffy robe, setting the small table on your patio. The view of the ocean from that patio was to die for, and the setting sun was just sublime. The golden lights you’d hung above the cute little dining area added to the cosy atmosphere. Now with the weather a lot nicer than it was hours ago, you could hear the small town coming alive again. Voice and laughter, children cycling down the cobblestone.

And Bucky. Bucky was here too. Winking at you from the patio. And you thought your life had ended when your parents disowned you. You scoffed at the thought. Then you thanked whatever god was listening for bringing Bucky back to you.

—

During dinner, Bucky filled you in on what he was up to while you were gone. And you did the same. One bottle of wine turned into two, then you and Bucky laughed at random things while you did the dishes.

Then you found yourselves in your bed. And like he promised, Bucky made love to you there as well.

His muscular body hovered above yours. He looked down at you with nothing but love and desire in his eyes as you undid the ridiculous robe to let his cock out. He was hard already.

“Think I like you a lot in this robe.” You teased.

Bucky laughed before leaning in for a kiss again. He nibbled along your skin, from your mouth to your neck as he parted your legs and slid into you.

You gasped as your walls welcomed him perfectly. He was nice and snug inside you, stretching you out in a way that had you whining and whimpering under him in no time.

Bucky laced your fingers together and pinned both your hands above your head on your pink covers as he sped up into you. Your eyes rolled back once he started moving in and out of you. Taking his sweet time, loving the way his warm skin rubbed against yours.

He leaned in and kissed your lips again, groaning and panting against your lips as he fucked you slowly. “I love you.” He breathed against your mouth. “So fucking much.” He kissed along your skin and moaned into your ear as he sped up. “I’m sorry it took me so long to say it.”

“Oh Buck,” You smiled up at him, “I love you.”

“You’re mine.” He whispered, leaning down to kiss you as he made you come again.

“And you’re mine.”

—

You woke up some time in the middle of the night, thirsty after all that wine from earlier. But the moment you sat up to get out of bed, Bucky woke up too. Asking in his groggy voice, which you had never heard before but concluded that it was kind of hot, “Where are you going? What is it?”

You smiled and kissed his forehead while getting out of bed, “Just thirsty. I’ll be right back.”

Bucky got up after you, getting out of bed as well. “I’m coming too.” He said, “I worry this girly room might engulf me if you leave me here alone.” He joked, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he followed you out and into the kitchen.

Truth is, he didn’t want to be apart from you for even a second.

You handed him a glass of cold water while you put some water to boil to make tea. Some green tea should put the two of you right back to sleep, you thought.

So there you were in your cosy kitchen, wrapped in a soft blanket. Bucky leaned against the counter watching you. He was shirtless, just in some white, cotton pyjama pants that you lent him. They didn’t fit him at all but something about him in your clothes made him seem adorable.

You were both quiet. But you could feel Bucky thinking. He looked like he was trying to find the right way to ask you something. You didn’t know what. But he had that little frown on his forehead. You wanted to kiss it away.

“What is it?” You asked.

Bucky avoided your eyes, choosing to stare at the floor instead as he asked, “Do you think… I mean, would you ever come back home?”

Ah. The few moments of silence which followed were heavy. You didn’t like how that question put some kind of metaphorical distance between the two of you.

So you took a few steps and leaned into him. You placed your hands on his muscular, toned chest and said, “This is home, for me.” You gave him the truth. “That city was never home now that I think about it.” You smiled faintly, “The only good part was you.”

Bucky nodded. “So,” He began, then stopped to clear his throat and spoke again, “You won’t ever leave this place?”

You slid your hands up across his skin, feeling the warm, strong muscles underneath your palm. You traced his collar bones, then his neck and finally cupped his face in your hands. He wrapped his arms loosely around your middle.

“I love it here, Bucky.” You stated. “It’s quiet, and peaceful. It looks boring at first but it’s what I’ve always wanted.” You said. “Plus my grandparents left me this, it’s all I have of them.” You paused for a while, hating that look of hurt in his ocean blue eyes. “I won’t leave. This is my home now.”

Bucky was quiet. Even his breathing was slow.

You let go of him, took a step back and said, “Maybe you should head back.” It felt like the words sliced you from the inside. It hurt to even utter them. “You have a life there.” You gave him a sad smile. Followed by a faint chuckle. “Unless you want to take up fishing then I’m afraid there’s nothing for you here.”

He scoffed. “There’s you.” He said as if that was more than enough.

“Bucky.” You warned.

He shook his head, then reached for his phone which he’d forgotten in the kitchen earlier tonight. “Sam will probably fly out here to beat me up when I tell him.” He spoke, none of what he said made sense to you though.

“What are you–,”

“And he’ll have to work twice as much. But he’ll do great, I know. He’s Sam after all, strongest man I know.” Bucky carried on, ignoring your questions as he typed away on his phone. “I’ll do as much as I can from here, maybe fly back to the city once or twice a year to show my face.”

“Bucky,” You warned again, “What are you talking—,”

Bucky continued, cutting you off each time you tried to get a word in. “I’ll have to call my people, actually I have a lot of phone calls to make if–,”

You cut him off this time, stepping closer to him again and grabbing him by his broad shoulders. “What are you talking about?”

Bucky gave you a lovesick smile. “Well if you’re not going back to the city, neither am I.” He answered. You froze. He continued. “I’ll have to buy us a bigger home somewhere around here. We’ll keep the apartment and bakery of course, but maybe we could use some staff to help with maintenance and to keep the bakery running.”

He made a mental, makeshift plan while you had silent tears streaming down your face.

He continued, “We’ll get you back in uni, whichever one you want and whichever offers distance learning because there’s no way I’m letting you live on some campus away from me.” He paused, then said, “I’ll have to actually take up fishing. Maybe I’ll buy a few boats, you know I always wanted to be a yacht broker.” He sounded almost… hopeful. “Retirement sounds nice.”

You sniffled. “Buck…”

Bucky kept talking while he gently caressed your back. “I’ll have to learn French,” He groaned, “At this grown age.” He added. “I’ll have to know what's a chocolate croissant and what’s a pain au chocolat if I want to occasionally help out with the bakery. I can’t be uncultured while my wife is this connoisseur, you know? The locals will laugh at me.”

“Wife?” You questioned through tears and a faint, barely there smile.

He rolled his eyes. “Baby, I’m wearing your clothes, sleeping in your girly room, eating off of your floral plates.” He explained, “If you don’t marry me, I will lose my reputation.” He joked.

You laughed, and sobbed as you threw your arms around him, hugging him as tightly as you could.

“You don’t have to do this.” You spoke through tears. Your heart felt so full, you didn’t know how to handle a man like Bucky changing the course of his life for you. All for you.

Bucky hugged you back, kissing the top of your head. “I want to.” He said, “I have to. Otherwise you’ll run away again.” He teased.

You laughed quietly. “I won’t.” You said firmly.

“Good,” He sighed, squeezing you tightly in his arms before letting go. “Now I have to tell Sam.” He looked genuinely worried.

You giggled, then leaned in to kiss his cheek. “Tell him in the morning.” You whispered, your hands already trailing down to the waistband of the pyjama pants.

Bucky chuckled before leaning in to kiss you, deeply. “Okay baby,” He whispered, forgetting everything else as he got lost in you all over again.

He made love to you right there in the kitchen, sliding in between your legs as you sat on the edge of the counter. Slow and gentle. Kissing you softly, making a mess of you as he made you come over and over and over again. Whispering against your heated skin, your wet, open mouth, “You’re mine…”

“All yours,” You answered, holding him tightly. Your nails scratching down his back, your skin burning in all the best ways as his beard scratched it each time he kissed you.

This time, he made you a different promise.

“If you chose to run again, you better run for your life and pray I never find you, babygirl…” He whispered into your ear as he slid inside you again. His cock made it hard for you to focus on anything else but you tried your hardest to hear him out. “Because I won’t be this kind if I ever have to hunt for you again.”

You laughed, but ended up moaning as he bit down on your other shoulder this time. Marking you as his again.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x reader #mob!bucky #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes imagine #bucky x reader

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gojonanami · 2 months

Text

❝ 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐖 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃 𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐒 (𝐁𝐔𝐓 𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐈'𝐌 𝐁𝐋𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆) ❞

❝ PROF. GETO IS SO HOT AND NOW HE’S A DEPARTMENT HEAD !! ❞

✧ pairing: professor!geto x f!reader (part four of the prof geto series)

✧ summary: you and suguru enter a new phase in your relationship— long distance. the two of you work hard to keep your relationship alive and well — but what happens when distance and work starts to weigh on your time together?

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut , fluff, but also angst depictions of student/teacher relationship (only ok in fiction not irl!!!), reader is a grad student, but age is vague, long distance relationship, phone sex, shower sex, fingering (f! receiving), handjob (m! receiving), oral (f! + m! receiving), sex (p in v), creampie, amateur's take on moral philsophy and ethics, yuta appears *gasp*, fanart found on pinterest (if anyone knows the og artist, pls let me know)

✧ wc: 14,288 | part one | part two | part three

“Baby,” you murmur, pressing a kiss to his cheek, “c’mon, you have to wake up, we can’t be late,” your boyfriend groans, pulling the covers over his head, and you giggle, gently tugging at the comforter held taut over his head.

“No,” he’s murmuring, as you roll your eyes, “a few more minutes,”

“A few minutes for you will turn into a few hours,” you chuckle, as your fingers finally find the inside of the comforter.

And you’re finally able to pull it off, Suguru’s long locks askew as his pretty obsidian eyes flutter half open, and your lips curl.

How did you get so lucky?

Your fingers run over his cheek, before you press a kiss to his forehead, “C’mon Mr. Department Head, you’re going to be late at this rate — you have to get the keys to your new apartment today and you have a meeting with the staff too,”

Suguru groans, his lips in a rare pout — mornings were truly his most vulnerable times, “Does it have to be today?” He draws close to you, burying his face in your neck, and your fingers slowly rake through his locks, gently easing the knots that formed in the night.

“Unfortunately yes,” you murmur, your fingers tucking a few locks behind his ear, “but I’ll be visiting you in two weeks, it will pass by quick,” it did feel like forever — but you knew it wouldn’t be. The summer would end one way or another and now he was leaving for Kyoto — officially three weeks before classes start, “and we’ll be spending the whole week together — we can explore a little more than we got to before,”

“I know,” he still is surely unconvinced, moving back to look up at you with certifiably the cutest purse of his lips, his warm hand finding your cheek, “but then why does every minute without you feel so much longer?”

Your lips find his in a lazy kiss, your hand sliding to the nape of his neck, his soft locks brushing against your knuckles, “But that will make the minutes we do spend together that much more special, right?”

He hums, pressing his forehead against yours, “how are you so positive about this?” And you sigh, your nose bumping against his, as you press a chaste kiss to his lips again.

“Because it’s the only way I can not completely break down,” you sigh, and his arms wrap around you, pulling you back into his embrace, your head resting on his chest, heart thudding nearly right under your ear, “what time do you have to leave?”

He glances at his phone, “not for another two hours,” and you curl up, fingers sliding against his smooth skin.

“Then a few more minutes wouldn’t hurt,” you murmur.

And you’d take any minute that you could get with him, especially now.

~~~

“Do you have everything?” Suguru never knew quite how much you could fuss over him, until the last few days. You seemed to obsess over every detail — his credentials, his electronics, his clothes — it’s as if you wanted everything squared away — and you simply couldn’t focus on anything else.

Because, you probably didn’t want to.

“I do, I have everything — I have things I didn’t need that you put in the car,” you pout as he chuckles, and he can’t help but lean in and kiss the pout from your lips, “I’ll be okay, I’ll call you as soon as I get there,” he murmurs, “can you pack yourself up and get in the car? Then I’ll really have everything I need,”

You blink rapidly, as if to ward off tears, as you can’t quite meet his gaze, “I wish I could,” you murmur, as your arms wrap around him, and his do the same, pulling you into a tight hug, “how am I going to survive the next two weeks without you?”

“It’s just two weeks right? Like you said it will pass by quick—“

You shake your head, “I just said that to make you feel better,” you look up at him, glassy eyed, “I changed my mind, stay here,” you whine, and he laughs, running his fingers through your hair.

“Think it’s a little late for that sweetheart,” he sighs, his fingers sliding under your chin, “after all, you packed up the rest of my things into my car, so unless I’m living out of it—“

“Yeah, yeah,” you mutter, as you rub your eyes, and he pulls your hands away gently, kissing your tears away, “I’ll miss you so much,”

“Not as much as me,” and you lean up to kiss him, a sweet kiss that only leaves him aching for more. Why was it the more he had of you — the more he always needed? He knew these first two weeks would be the hardest, but honestly, he’s not sure if it would ever get easier.

Because he needs you. Always.

“Ah wait,” you smile, reaching into your pocket, “you forgot one thing—” and you pull out a key, and he tilts his head, “it’s a key to my place,”

And he blinks, “You don’t—”

“I want to,” you kiss him again, even softer somehow, “please take it,” so he does, as you place the piece of metal into his palm, “plus, it’s practical, if I’m not around, you can let yourself in,”

“Make myself comfortable?” his lips quirk.

“Very comfortable,” you press your forehead to his again, “Go,” you murmur, you pull away reluctantly, his body already mourning the loss of your touch, your fingers still intertwined, “otherwise, I’ll just block your car with my body to get you to stay,”

He rolls his eyes, smile pulling at the corner of his mouth, “I’d like to see that,” he presses his forehead to yours, “promise you’ll stop me from ever accepting a job that makes me be away from you for any amount of time again?”

“Now that’s a promise I’ll keep,” you squeeze his fingers one last time, “I think it’s what’s owed to us isn’t it?”

He knows he would never be able to repay what he owes you for everything you’ve done for him — how happy you’ve made him—

“It is,” he smiles, one last kiss to your lips, as he slips into the driver’s seat before he can change his mind.

—But he would try.

~~~

When you go back to your apartment — it feels far too empty. Even though Suguru didn’t live with you — it felt as if he had made a place for himself here, and he had, but he had left it. For now, you remind yourself. His place would be here for him, when he came back.

But it turned out two weeks was a lot of time to kill when you still hadn’t started classes — your days filled with nothing but time for you to spend. None of your friends from class had made it back yet either — so you were stuck trying to find things to do. Suguru was busier than expected — dragged to meeting after meeting and showed off more than a show dog to the department’s professors, alumni, and donors. Suguru often fell asleep on the phone with you, his soft snores filling your ears, as you fell asleep along with him.

And you couldn’t help but wonder if all semester would be like this — especially once his classes started. You understood — you did — this is what you signed up for and it was far from Suguru’s fault. But you couldn’t help but miss him. And that wasn’t surprising — but what was surprising was how much you missed him.

Your bed was bought for one, but now it felt empty with only you occupying it — a cold barren front without your usual refuge in his arms. And the days weren’t bad — you found things to keep you busy — but the evenings and weekends that you usually had spent with Suguru dragged like a child dragged their feet at the grocery store — reluctantly and without patience.

So maybe you needed to do the same that you’d do for a restless child — a distraction.

“Do you know of any organizations I could join?” You had asked Suguru on one of your video call dinner dates — and he hummed thoughtfully as he picked up soba noodles between his chopsticks, “I just feel like I need something to fill my time,”

“The semester hasn’t even started and you’re already thinking about other things to do?” He raises an eyebrow, and you suppress a giggle at the sight of a bit of the soup that remained on the side of his chin. The very same you wished that you could thumb away for him, “my favorite student is as ambitious as always,”

“Your girlfriend is even more so,” you roll your eyes, as you gesture to your own face to signal, and he wipes his, “c’mon, I know my favorite professor must have something to recommend. I know how he looooves to give me suggestions,”

And he snorts, setting his chopsticks down on his bowl as he finishes his meal, “Then I suggest you think about joining the student government — they have a specific section for graduate students and professors, it would be a good opportunity for you to branch out, and put the philosophy department’s brightest on the map,”

Your lips curl at the compliment, “you think I’m the brightest?”

“I was talking about myself,” and you roll your eyes, as he smirks at you, as he picks up his phone and his dishes to clean up, “I think it would be perfect. Why don’t you speak to Yaga about it? He was trying to goad me into recommending some students,”

“So this really is self-serving, huh?” the water of the sink runs in the background, as you do the same, placing your dishes in the sink — tomorrow’s problem — as you washed your hands, “what would I even know about student government anyway?”

“Philosophy has a lot to do with governance, you know that — Cicero, Plato, Aquinas, Machiavelli—“

“Saving the most benevolent philosopher for last,” and you can hear him chuckle, as the water squeaks shut, and he picks up his phone, a smile playing on his lips, “do you think I could help?”

“I think you can do anything, sweetheart, except get a 100% in my class,” and you gape at him, as he laughs, and your heart aches for that sound, more than you thought was possible, “you should do it, what’s stopping you?”

And you bite your lip — yes, you wanted to be busier, but you didn’t want to be too busy for this. To spend time with Suguru — no matter how little it was. But you knew it would be good for you — for both of you. The last thing you wanted was to be needy — even if this week was proving that you were needier than you thought you were.

“Nothing I guess,” you sigh, as you make your way to your bedroom, “I’ll email Professor Yaga in the morning,”

“Good,” Suguru is sat on his bed as well now, his phone propped up, “and your boyfriend has another suggestion,” and you raise an eyebrow, “I suggest my favorite student brings my favorite t-shirt with them when they come to visit me,”

You gasp in mock shock, “You gave this shirt to me,”

“No, I asked you where it was and you said you packed it already, but I see you pilfered it away when I wasn’t looking,” he tilts his head, “now take it off,”

“Professor, that’s not a proper way for a department head to speak to a student,” you still let the shirt ride up as you lean back against your pillows, “have you not gotten your ethics training yet about appropriate behavior?”

“That’s interesting, you didn’t seem to mind last night when you asked me to send you a very improper picture of my lower half fresh out of the shower,” and you can’t help the giggle that escapes your lips, but your expression grows more serious.

“So it’s all about quid pro quo, Professor?” you sigh exaggeratedly, before pulling the shirt off, “I’ll take it off, but how about if you let me keep it, I’ll give you something else?”

God, you know that look in his eye, and you just wished he could do what he wanted — his fingers would find your waist and your back, pulling you quick and eager into his lap — his hard-on pressing through the thin material of his sweatpants he wore around the apartment.

“And what would that be?” And the shirt finally up and over, a soft gasp leaving his lips at the sight of your bare body, only your shorts left on. You smile.

“Me, of course,” and he’s adjusting his phone, face up, a small groan leaving his lips, “sir?”

“Is that all you’re offering, sweetheart?” and you hear the slight shuffle of fabric, “because that shirt is quite special to me,”

You roll your eyes, a smile tugs at your lips as you see him come back into focus with his phone in hand, his eyes drifting from your eyes to your chest and back, “Is it?”

“If you remove your clothes, I’ll forgive this small transgression,” and his other hand is out of sight, no doubt stroking himself, though you were no better, fingers toying with your cunt through your drenched panties.

“I think that price might be too high, Professor— you might have to give me something in return,” you smile, toying with the elastic of your shorts, and he bites his lip, gaze heavy even through the screen of your phone.

“And what do you want, princess?”

“I thought it was obvious,” as you slip off your shorts, propping up your phone on the pillow designated usually for him, nothing else underneath, “I want you.”

“Fuck,” he’s hissing, as you can hear the distinct sound of the squelch of his hand running up and down his cock, “sweetheart, do you have any idea what you’re doing to me?”

And your fingers are teasing your wet folds, imagining it was his own, his thick fingers sinking into one by one, he’d fill you so much better than you do — “show me, Suguru,” He does, flipping the camera to show his erection — flushed red and pretty — beads of pre-cum dripping from the tip, “all this just for me?” And your fingers push past your entrance, a gasp leaving your lips, “my fingers aren’t enough for me, Sugu—“

“show me now, let me tell you how to fuck yourself,” and you’re nodding, hand shaking as you flip the camera around to show your fingers notched inside, gleaming with your pre, dripping down your knuckles, “move,” and you do, slowly at first, and his hand moves too, starting to fuck his fist, “faster, curl your fingers just like I would,” and you do, a whine leaving your lips, “good girl,” he grunts.

The sounds of both of your pants and moans fill your ears, your eyes fluttering open to watch him touch himself, “Tease the tip for me, baby,” you murmur, fucking yourself deeper, when you see him thumb his slit, “wish I could taste you, suck you off, until you’re cumming down my—“

“Princess—“ you know he’s close by the way his dick twitches in his fingers and the way his lips moan your name, “add another finger,” and you do — fuck, the stretch is nothing like his cock, but you can almost imagine it is, “I’m sure you’ve gotten tight without me to fuck you — have you been touching yourself when I’m not around?” You bite your lip, your hesitation was all the answer he needed, “what do you think about?”

“Think about you,” you’re fucking close too, your fingers drenched in your own precum, “think about you coming back, about you kissing me at the door before pinning me against it,” And he’s groaning, the sounds of his hand pumping his cock ringing in your ears, you can’t hang on— “Suguru—please—“

“Be a good girl, and cum for me, sweetheart,” and you do, your toes curling and eyes squeezing shut as you do, phone slipping from your fingers, as you hear him groan too, the distinct sound of his cum splattering against his sheets.

You both come down from your highs, pulling your fingers from your cunt, grabbing tissues from your bedside table to wipe off your hands.

“Sugu?” You pick up your phone, and your boyfriend does the same, his cheeks flushed a gorgeous red, slightly more rumpled than before. And you can’t help but wish you could lean over and kiss him as you would, running your fingers through his hair, “I miss you,”

He sighs, gaze filled with affection and longing, “I miss you too, so much — you have no idea, princess,” as you tug his shirt back on, and you lie back, turning on your side, “just one more week,”

“I’m counting the days,” you murmur

“I’m counting the seconds,” and you snort, his lips curled in the damned smile that dragged you into his mess.

“Always have to one up me don’t you?” you bury your nose in the fabric of the shirt, the scent still very distinctly him.

“It is my job after all,” and you smile, “I love you,”

“I love you too,” but you know where this is going — as it always did almost every weekday night.

“I should hang up — I have to clean up and—“

“Review for meetings before bed, I know,” you finish and he raises an eyebrow, “very predictable, Professor Geto,”

“I’ll work on that — watch, I’ll surprise you,” and you chuckle, but you can’t help but frown, “what is it?” and you shake your head, “sweetheart,” and you know he won’t let it go.

“Just call me after you’re done, before bed, okay?” you sit up, glancing at your shorts on the floor, shifting uncomfortably with the wetness between your thighs, “I have to change my shorts and my sheets,”

“You’re welcome,” and you roll your eyes, his lips curled in a small smile reserved just for you, “love you, sweetheart.”

“I love you too,” the call ends, and you’re left looking at your lock screen, a sigh caught in your throat.

Just one more week.

~~~

You stood before the door of one of the university's conference rooms — on one of the floors you did not tend to frequent. You spent most of your time in the classrooms if not the library — but you had attended a few meetings up here for one reason or another. But this was the first time you were walking into a room in quite a long time that you didn’t know anyone.

The student government met once before the semester started — a getting to know you forum for new members, such as yourself. There was no real formal election process for your position as senator — as long as other students were not vying for the position. And luckily for you, no other philosophy graduate student had chosen to volunteer for this entirely optional and unpaid position — a mystery really.

But the nerves still remained — though there was nothing more to do than enter. So you did — opening the door and finding the room filled with quite a few faces, but none of them familiar. You took a seat in a relatively empty section, but adjacent to enough faces, an empty seat on either side of you. The people around you chatted, while you pulled a notebook and pen out — your phone face down on the table, before you grab it and shoot Suguru a quick text.

You: in my first student government meeting! wish me luck!!

The meeting started without much formalities — a simple round table introduction that had you close to going last, but you had a chance to learn more about the other graduate students — most of them were students representing different departments, as you were, while there was also the traditional roles of president, vice president, secretary, and treasurer.

Eyes slid to you now, the president gesturing to you, her name escaping you, “And our newest member,”

They finally turned to you as you waved to the group, introducing yourself by name, “I’m a graduate student in the philosophy department, I’m a third year in the program, and I heard about the group from my department head—”

“Professor Geto?” one of the girls piped up, a literature graduate student who you didn’t recognize, but you were sure had taken Suguru’s class or at least had heard about him.

You shook your head, forcing a polite smile on your lips, “Professor Yaga actually told me about it,” she nods, and the president claps her hands together.

“Alright, this meeting is just to mingle and get to know each other, so please enjoy the refreshments and food provided,” and her eyes flicker down, “I think we’re only missing one person from the group—”

And the door bursts open, “Sorry, sorry! I didn’t mean to run late—” a student with dark black hair that rested past his chin, bangs that framed his face on either side, and a small smile on his lips.

“Students keep you again, Yuta?” the president asks, and the dark haired boy known as Yuta slipped into the room, and took a seat beside you, sighing with a nod, as he set down his things, “good timing, you can help our newest member get acclimated,”

His eyes flicker to you, a smile pulling at his lips, “I’d be happy to,” and the group begins to get up to grab food and refreshments, as Yuta offers you his hand, “I’m Yuta Okkotsu, it’s nice to meet you.”

~~~~

“I hope you stay a part of the organization,” your eyes snap up at Yuta’s words — a curious look on his face, “you just seemed a little overwhelmed in there,” he tilts his head, as the two of you walk towards the metro station, “I may be wrong, but—”

“No I was,” for someone who looked so…innocent, he was really observant — his dark eyes felt like they could pierce right through you — even if he wouldn’t let them do so, “it was a lot — I’ve never been a part of a formal structure like this so it was just a lot—”

“It’s not as formal as you think — the proceedings do drag on but Maki, the president, tends to skip the formalities for the most part — she’s as bored of them as you are,” he chuckles, his fingers adjusting the strap of his backpack slung loosely over one shoulder, “usually the meetings don’t take very long — the events mostly take up our time when it comes to planning and organizing, but we hold a couple in conjunction with other organizations so that helps take the load off,” he explains, “we also organize issues important to the students to present to the president of the university quarterly, so we tend to have more meetings around that time, but we schedule the meetings after midterms, and after finals, so it doesn’t interfere with studying,” and then he catches himself, rubbing the back of his neck, “sorry, I’m going on and on, I should have just asked you if you had questions instead,”

“No, it was really helpful, Yuta,” you smile, “you’re very thorough,” and you don’t notice how a faint flush appears across his cheeks.

“I was new last year to the organization, and I remember being really overwhelmed — the professor I usually T.A. for roped me into it, he’s been away on research for the last year or so, but I stayed apart of it, because,” he shrugged, a smile on his lips, “I made some really good friends, and I hope you do too,”

You pull out your phone, no reply from Suguru, a small sigh on your lips — it’s fine, he’s busy, “Good friends are exactly what I need right now I think,” you check the time — Suguru wouldn’t be out of meetings for dinner at this rate, “do you want to grab dinner? I know a good ramen spot not far from here,”

“Sounds great,” and you led the way, not noticing the way Yuta’s eyes lingered on you a second too long, before he started to follow you, keeping pace beside you.

A week would pass by quick.

~~~

“What time will you be here?” Suguru asked, as you had him on your laptop this time on video call to watch you pack for the couple days you were spending with him before the semester started.

“I’m taking the 8:00 AM train, so I’ll get there probably by 10:15, so like two hours,” you weren’t sure how much to pack — you didn’t want to do a ton of laundry right before classes started, but you weren’t sure what you wanted to wear, “can you come here pack for me and go back?”

He snorts, “I’ll be right over, but at that point, wouldn’t it be more conducive for me to just stay with you?”

“But I want to come see you,” you pout, and he shrugs, as his eyes flicker up from his work.

“Then you’re going have to pack,” and you give a heavy sigh, continuing to choose what clothes to take. Your phone goes off and it’s a text from Yuta;

Yuta: hey! are you free next week to get dinner after the meeting? But this time I’m choosing the restaurant :)

You pick up your phone and text back: if it’s that chapati place you mentioned, I’m down — otherwise, you’ll have to deal with my severe disappointment

Yuta: I’ll have to leave you in suspense then

You snort, tossing your phone down, as your eyes go back to the screen to find Suguru smiling at you, “What?”

“Just enjoying the view,” and your cheeks burn, as you roll your eyes.

“Shut up,” you mumble, rolling up a shirt in a hurry in a manner that definitely doesn’t qualify as folding, “what view? Me in an oversized t-shirt and shorts?”

“Exactly, with that pretty smile on your lips? Best thing on anytime,” he replies, and you bite back that same smile he complimented — but it’s the one reserved for him.

“You dork,” you mutter, “don’t say cute things or I’ll take the last train tonight to see you sooner,”

“I’d never make you do that so I’ll stop, for now,” he sighs, resting his cheek on his palm, his gaze growing a little more heady, “but tomorrow? I’ll be sure to tell you every single thing I love about you,”

And your lips curl, as you sigh, “I love you, but you should get some rest and I should finish packing and do the same,”

He gives a small smile, “Yes, ma’am, I’ll see you tomorrow, pretty girl,”

“I’ll be the one running into your arms,”

“Undoubtedly very late,”

“What was that? The sound of me missing my train tomorrow?” And he laughs, as you cross your arms, head held far too high, “that’s right. I’m holding myself hostage,”

“Well if you’re both hostage and hostage negotiator, tell both of you that I’ll bring you your favorite drink and buy you the breakfast of your choice,” and you peek at him, “coming around?”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, you better have the ransom ready,” you let a smile escape your lips, “I love you,”

“I love you too, I’ll see you tomorrow,” and he hangs up after, and you sigh — tomorrow, finally.

You’ll see him again — you just hoped these few days didn’t pass by quickly.

~~~

Suguru waited at the station for you, your preferred hot beverage in hand, along with your requested pastry, both in hand as he waited. He opted to have his hair up in a bun due to the weather, a slight wind that carried the warning of fall in the crisp air that morning. But not whenever a snowstorm could have kept him from you that morning — it had been far too many days and nights spent without you by his side while spending them instead in stuffy rooms filled with colleagues and donors.

But now — and he sees people pour from the platform, a throng of harried travelers looking to get to their next destination, and among them all, he spots you — with the red suitcase you insisted made it easier to find amongst the others (it didn’t).

And he’s approaching you, slipping past others, and your eyes find his, your lips in a grin at the sight of him, as you find your way into his arms in a moment — suitcase clattering to the floor probably to the other travelers’ dismay. But he grabbed the handle and turned it upright in a moment, before his arm curled back around you.

“Hi,” you whisper, and he could have stood there forever — it had felt like forever since he had held you. His palm cupped your cheek, a thumb brushing back and forth against the length of it.

“You always know how to make an entrance sweetheart,” he murmurs, forehead pressed to yours, as your fingers intertwine slowly but surely — as if they hadn’t parted, “but I wouldn’t have it any other way,”

“Uh-huh, don’t act like I forgot about the ransom I’m owed,” and he’s rolling his eyes, as he takes your luggage, wrapping an arm around you, ��where is it?”

“In the car, how about we stop by my apartment, drop off your things, rest for a bit and then we can grab breakfast, as promised?” You smile, leaning into his side, wrapping your arms around his middle. He presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“As long as it’s with you.”

~~~

“You made breakfast for me?” you gasp, as he had set the table with all the breakfast staples — “i thought we were going to ‘grab breakfast?’”

Suguru wipes his hands, as he brings over two pairs of clean chopsticks and sits beside you, “Well I thought you might be tired from the train ride so I thought we could have breakfast in and relax before going out before lunch,”

You take the chopsticks from him, fingers brushing as you do, leaning into his side, “It’s not fair being this perfect,” you murmur, your head against his shoulder, nose brushing against the soft fabric of his t-shirt and his skin, “when are you going to show me your flaws?”

“I think I’ve shown plenty of those the last few months with how things have went before we even began dating,” his lips brush against your forehead, “now I just want to treasure you — as much as I can,”

“Me too,” you lean up and meet his lips in a soft kiss that steals the logic from your head and the air from your lungs — and only leaves his touch behind, “Suguru…” and you want to admit to him how hard it’s been without him, how much harder it's been than what you expected — and how you worried about how hard would it get during the semester, when you both were busy? “I really missed you,” you bury your face in the crook of his neck, and you speak before he can get even a syllable out, “but I’m so glad we’re together now,”

He didn’t need to know — he would only feel bad. You could handle it—

“Me too,” his gaze is soft, as he pulls back to find your lips in another achingly gentle kiss.

For him.

~~~~

“This weekend is supposed to be for you, why are you shopping for me?” Suguru says yet again as you peruse another homegoods store, looking for something to decorate what you claimed were the “barren landscape” of his apartment, “we should do something you want to,”

“This is something I want to do,” as you inspect a globe with the same scrutiny you’d apply to a Aristotelian text — brow furrowed in thought as if this knick knack would give you some unintelligible insight on metaphysics (it did not), “you’re going to be living there for a while, I want you to have an apartment that doesn’t look like a serial killer resides there,”

“Why does it look like that?”

“Because it doesn’t look lived in,” you pick up a set of matching bookends, “these things make your house look lived in and feel welcoming,” and then you put the bookends down thoughtfully, “although we should start with more basic things, like frames and a full length mirror,”

“Well if I look like a serial killer, you don’t have to worry about anyone who comes over, because they will think I’m a murderer and feel very unwelcome,” and you laugh, intertwining your fingers with him, “I don’t care about other people — I care about you, so will this make you happy?”

You nod, “Because I want you to feel happy here, and that will make me happy,”

And he wants to say the only thing that would make him really happy would be if you lived here with him — to wake up beside you each morning, to come home to you each evening, and fall asleep beside you — but he couldn’t say that. It would almost be cruel to say something that wasn’t possible right now. But it would be — it would be possible.

“Okay, let’s find some things,” his arm curls around your waist, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, “but remember, you do love this serial killer,”

“That’s only because I’m far too wonderful to murder,” and he rolls his eyes, as the two of you continue to shop, and he watches you continue to pick up and examine things — and he can’t help but wonder if this is what it would be like when you both shop for your place together. And he bites back a smile.

Only a few more months — and you could be together. It wasn’t forever.

That’s what he kept telling himself.

~~~~

“You said no work while I was here,” you were doing your best pout if only to change his mind, but he was unrelenting, his shoulders slumped in resignation, and his lips in a purse at his desk in his bedroom, “Suguruuuuu,” you’re officially whining, and you know it’s not his fault, but you have such little time with him, you don’t want a minute to be wasted.

“I know, sweetheart, but Yaga wants to speak about the semester starting, and I didn’t have much of a choice—” you sigh, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, burying your face in the crook of his neck, lips pressing kisses to the hollow of his throat, “princess—” he groans.

“I want to get in my cuddles before,” and your teeth graze the juncture of his neck and shoulder, and he sucks in air between his teeth, “how long is your meeting?”

“About half an hour,” and you hum, kissing his lips, languid and slow, your fingers threading his lengthy tresses, “it’s about to start—” and you’re kneeling down in front of his chair, as the video call starts to go off, as you look up at him between his knees, “sweetheart—” he’s hissing, wide eyes, as you undo his belt and the zipper of his pants.

“Then let’s not waste any time,” you grin, toying with the waistband of his boxers, “pick up the call.”

And you thought he would kick you out from underneath, nudging you away, and you would relent if he really didn’t want this — but he doesn’t. He swallows thickly, Adam's apple bobbing as he picks up the call, placing his earbuds in his ear.

“Hi Professor Yaga,” Suguru says, and you’re almost surprised how normal he sounds with you between his legs, but Yaga can’t see the way his muscles tense when your fingers spring his already half hard cock free, “Yes, we do have a couple things to cover. No, I don’t mind starting,”

Well if he insists, you’d start too.

Your fingers slowly stroke him to fully erect, pre-cum dripping over your fingers as you do, your eyes flickering up to see his expression still perfectly normally, the only telltale sign being the way his fingers white knuckled the armrest just out of sight. His cock was so unfairly pretty — a deep red at the tip with a slight curve that had your thighs pressing together at the thought of it sinking into you. Your lips press a kiss to the tip and he wavers mid sentence, as you smirk against his cock, as your mouth parts to suck him off.

And it seems like Yaga is the one speaking now, as he seemingly mutes himself, resting his chin against his hand, covering his mouth with his fingers, “Fuck, sweetheart,” he swears under his breath, as your tongue traces along one of his veins, sucking at the tip, as your fingers drift to toy with his balls.

The tip of your tongue flicks against his weeping slit, bobbing your head along the length, as a hand of his drifts down to thread in your locks, nails digging into your scalp.

“S-sorry, what was that?” he seemingly unmuted himself at a question, and you’re sucking even harder, nose brushing against his pubes as his tip brushes against your throat, “N-no, I’m fine, sorry, I’m not feeling well,”

You suck one more time, and he’s gone, as he barely can mutes himself and turns off his camera, groaning, as he spills down your throat, as you swallow it, his head thrown back against the headrest of his chair. And he’s panting, as he looks down at you, half lidded and lost in pleasure, gaze darkening as he watches you pull away, a string of spit and cum connecting you to his softening cock, as you adjust his boxers and clothes.

“What happened to Yaga?” and his glance tells you he certainly does not care — chest heaving, as he runs his fingers through his hair.

“Disconnected after I went silent — I’ll tell him my internet went out,” and you’re slowly rising out from between his legs, and his fingers find your waist, tugging you close, “you really are a bad influence,” and his lips find yours, your fingers cupping his cheek.

“I told you I didn’t want to waste time,” you grin, and in one smooth motion, he’s dragging you into his bed, giggling leaving your lips as he showers you with kisses, “Suguru!” you yelp as you fall backwards into his plush bed, and he’s tugging off your shorts and panties with ease, folding your legs up, one of them brushing against his shoulder, as he kisses your inner thigh, a smile against your heated skin.

“My turn.”

~~~~

“How did this week go so quickly?” you sigh, burying your face in his chest on Friday night, knowing you have to get on a train tomorrow morning, “it’s not fair, it’s not enough time,” you murmur, tracing circles on his skin, “and now I don’t get to see you for a month,”

“I know, I don’t want you to go,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead, “but it will pass by quick — you’ll be busy with classes and I’ll be busy with work — it won’t be as bad as we think,” And you don’t want to admit your fears to him — it would make it all too real, as if they would emerge from the syllables your lips spoke into a new reality before you — and you couldn’t take that risk, no matter how illogical it was.

“I know, I just can’t imagine spending this much time apart,” you glance at him, “don’t know what I did without you before, I don’t even remember what I spent my time doing,”

“Revising the essays I made you write?” and you pinch his cheek, and he’s laughing, “sorry, couldn’t resist making that joke,”

“Yeah, I recall you couldn’t resist me either,” and his fingers drag lazily over your cheek, tucking stray strands of hair behind your ear.

“Well, who really could resist you?” he sighs, content seemingly in just the act of touching you, “I tried and failed — and I am a master at resisting temptation,”

“A paragon of morality truly,” and he snorts, as you kiss his neck sweetly, ghosting over the places you had left marks, “though there was definitely nothing moral about what we just did,”

Your lips find his again, a lazy kiss that grows slowly with more heat the more your lips meet again and again and again — until he’s parting, “It’s just a month,” he says as if he can sense your anxiety, “I’ll come see you, I promise,”

“So if you don’t come, I can summon Immanuel Kant to scold you for not fulfilling your promise?” and he laughs.

“A scolding from you would be far more effective, but Kant is able to come if he can make it — death’s a worse commute than to Tokyo,”

“Who says?” you mumble, pressing your forehead to his, “you’ll take me to the station?”

“Of course,” and you have only one request.

“Don’t come inside ok?” his brow furrows, but you softly smooth it with the back of your knuckles, “Otherwise, I’ll end up crying — and I rather not subject you or the passengers near me to that,” and he chuckles, a frown still on his lips.

“Are you sure?”

It wasn’t just the crying — you knew if he walked you to your train, you’d want to make him come with you or let yourself stay — and you couldn’t do that, not to either of you. This was temporary — it wouldn’t be forever—

“I’m sure.” you kiss his lips again, rolling over so you were on top, your bodies brushing against each other with the familiar heat you’d miss when you were back home again.

—so why did it feel like forever?

~~~

“You promised me a better meal and this place nearly burned my taste buds off,” you grumble, as the two of you stand outside the restaurant, rain pounding against the awning as it starts to come down, the spicy food from the chapati place doing little to keep you warm now against the frigid wind of the autumn carrying the promise of being drenched with it.

“Come on, it wasn’t that bad,” Yuta chuckles, holding a hand out for the rain, “now at least the spice will help on the way home,”

“The only good thing about this place is that it's close to my apartment. I have a ton of work to do already — and it’s only the first week of classes,” you sigh, pulling out your umbrella, and glancing at him, hands still empty and unmoving. You hold up your umbrella, waving it, “Did you not bring one?” as you pull out your phone to check the weather reports.

“I didn’t know there was rain in the report for today,” he sighs, waving you off, “go ahead, I’ll wait for it to let up or find a convenience store nearby— I just need to make it back to the station—”

“Trains are down because of the storm,” you raise an eyebrow, as you glance at him, “come on, you can stay at my place,”

He’s shaking his head, holding his hands up, “No, I don’t want to—”

You tilt your head, glancing around at the clearing street and the distant rumble of thunder, “So are you going to camp out here outside this restaurant for the night or?” and he’s chewing his lip, as you chuckle, “it’s not far, we can share the umbrella, and hopefully we won’t get completely soaked,”

“Well, we’re not completely soaked,” you close the door behind you both, dripping water onto your floor, as you sigh, “hold on I’ll grab towels,” and you do, coming back quickly so you both can dry off.

And you notice the damage done to his clothes are far worse than yours, completely soaked through, the towel doing little to help aside from stopping the water from forming a larger puddle near your entryway.

“You held the umbrella mostly to my side, didn’t you?” And he pauses, his hesitation the answer you needed, as you sigh — “you’re more of a martyr than you need to be,”

“Well, I want to help my friends,” he gives a small smile.

“Even at the detriment of yourself?” And he shrugs.

“I can handle it,” and you shake your head, as you head to your closet pull out a fresh towel and clothes — but not your own.

“Go change,” and he glances at the clothes, hesitates, but takes them, as he frowns, “it’s fine, Yuta, go shower and change,” you show him where the bathroom is, and how to turn on the water.

You head to your bedroom to change and dry off, grabbing a fresh t-shirt and shorts — chewing on your lips — you had to give Yuta some of Suguru’s clothes you had stolen — your clothes wouldn’t exactly fit him properly. But you pouted, now you couldn’t sleep in Suguru’s shirt tonight, and you sighed, it was just as well — you had to wash the shirt so now it didn’t smell like him now.

You come out into the living room, hopping onto your couch and flipping on the TV, looking for something to watch. And then you hear the bathroom door, glancing behind you, “Done?”

“Yeah, thank you again for this,” he shifts in place, steam escaping from the bathroom behind him, his bangs still a little damp and cheeks flushed with a tinge of pink along his cheekbones, “what are you doing?”

“Just looking for something to watch,” and he comes over, sitting on the other side of the couch, “do you have any preference?”

He shakes his head, “No, not really,” and you choose a random movie to put on, a cheesy rom-com that had just come out on a streaming service, “is that what you like to watch?”

You shrug, running your fingers through your hair, “I like watching bad movies — it’s something I do usually while I do my work — the genius is, I don’t have to pay attention to follow the storyline,” and your eyes still on the TV, you don’t notice how his eyes linger on your face, a smile pulling on his lips, “now look at this, it’s the classic ‘guy likes girl, but girl is too dense to notice,” you shake your head, “does that even happen in real life?”

And Yuta parts his lips to reply when your phone rings, and you grab your phone — a video call — Suguru’s name flashing on your screen, and you can’t bite back the smile on your lips, “Hold on, I have to take this — just make yourself comfortable, I’ll be in the bedroom,”

You head into your bedroom, shutting the door behind you, as you pick up the call, “Hey stranger,” you smile as his face comes into view, glasses perched on his nose, as he grins back at you, “I miss you,”

“I miss you too,” he rests his face against his hand, “I’m sorry I haven’t been able to talk much — there have been a lot of issues popping up because its the first week — a lot of department requests from professors and students alike,”

“Mr. Bigshot Department Head has forgotten about his girlfriend, huh?” you mock pout, and he shakes his head, a longing gaze that makes your breath stutter in your chest.

“I could never forget you — how can I when all I dream about is you?” and you bite your lip, cheeks burning, “did I make you smile?”

“Shut up,” and he laughs, and then you hear a noise from the living room, a clatter that catches your attention.

“What was that?”

You wave him off, “It was just my friend, he’s staying over because of the rain — he’s in the living room,”

And he pauses for a moment, expression unreadable, “Which friend?”

“His name is Yuta — I met him during my first student government meeting — he’s kind of showing me the ropes,” and he nods, his silence palpable, gaze downwards and then it dawns on you, “Are you jealous?”

And his eyes flicker up, “Sweetheart—”

“Oh my god you are, that’s so cute,” you smile, as you delight in the slight dusting of pink that settles over his cheeks — he’s far too pretty for his own good, and your voice softens, “you have nothing to worry about, Suguru — I love you, no one else can even compete,”

He sighs, and you wish you could kiss him, “I know, I know — I’m just,” his brow furrows, his lips stuck in a frown, “I just miss you,”

“Then come over,” you tease, and he gives a small smile.

“You have company,” he reminds you, and you sigh, glancing at the door, “you should go back,”

“I’ll work on inventing an instant teleportation device,” a forced laugh leaves his lips, “Suguru, are you sure—”

He shakes his head, “I’m fine, really, just call me before bed if you have time okay?”

“Yeah of course, I love you,” a genuine smile gracing his lips.

“I love you too,” and you hang up, heading back out to find Yuta watching TV, “sorry about that,”

“It’s fine, is everything okay?” he glances at you, tilting his head, “nothing wrong?”

You shake your head, sitting down beside him, grabbing a cushion to place in your arms, “It was just my boyfriend — he usually calls me around this time,”

Yuta gives a slight nod, “Oh, is he away this weekend?”

“No, we’re long distance — he lives in Kyoto,” you explain, sighing, leaning back on the couch, “that’s why I took the call, otherwise, I would have called whoever back,”

“You don’t have to do that — you should be allowed to do whatever you need to. It’s your home,” and you smile, shaking your head before you toss the pillow at him, “w-what?”

“You’re important too, Yuta — you’re my friend and a guest — I’m not going to just leave you out here by yourself without saying anything,” you hold your hand out, “can I have the remote?” And he passes it to you, fingers brushing, as you flip through more movies and TV, “are you tired at all?”

His gaze stays straight ahead, as he shakes his head, “No, not yet,” and you’re choosing a movie to watch, his fingers clasped over each other — the warmth of your touch still lingering.

And you had no idea that his heart was aching at the thought of you being taken — much like the very someone who had taken you.

~~~

“I understand, Suguru, really I do,” and you did — you always did — but this time, it was a little hard to swallow.

It had been weeks since the two of you had seen each other, not over a screen. It was already a month and half into the new semester — and each time he was supposed to visit you, something or another came up — a faculty event, a staff meeting, grading to do, and god knows what else.

And you could bear it the other times — it wasn’t his fault. He had work to do. He had things he had to take care of with little choice in the matter. And you couldn’t always come to Kyoto either — not with your program in full gear and events for the student government around the corner.

No it wasn’t his fault — but it didn’t mean it didn’t hurt — especially with what he was missing.

“I really tried to get time off — and I probably still can make it, but I might run late—“ Suguru’s sighing on the phone, and you know his brow is knit together — mind desperately trying to grasp at a solution, as if he thought hard enough one would emerge that he hadn’t considered.

Your footsteps pause, as you bite back your own sigh, trying to keep your tone light. “It’s okay, really — we can celebrate my birthday the next time—“

“It’s not okay, sweetheart,” he cuts you off, “I’m really going to try to make it. I’ll get my work done, or put it off—“

“I don’t want you jeopardizing work—“

“I’ll be fine, Princess — I want to be with you,” he says so softly that your refusals all but melt, “really, I do,”

You bite your lip, as you continue to make your way, weaving between the students herding towards their next classes, “Okay I just don’t want you stressing out or worrying—“

“I’ll be fine, just, make any plans you want to, okay? I don’t know what time I’ll get there on Saturday, but I’ll be there, okay?”

“You really don’t—“ you’re outside the room for your meeting, leaning against the wall.

“Sweetheart,” he warns, and your lips curl, fully submitting to his whims.

“You really don’t — know what time you’re getting here?” You nailed that — apparently not by his chuckle over the line, as you hear the tapping of his laptop as he checks train times.

He pauses, a rustling of papers, and a sigh, “I’m not sure, but once I’m on my way, I’ll let you know, okay?”

“Okay, that’s fine,” you give a half hearted smile despite the fact no one would see it, “I’m outside my student government meeting, but I’ll talk to you tonight?”

“Of course, good luck with your meeting, and I’ll call you around 8:00 PM?” And the two of you hang up and you’re left with disappointment hanging mid air — like a mystery waiting to be solved, wondering if you’ll be satisfied or saddened.

“What’s wrong?” your gaze snaps up to find Yuta, who offers a small smile, “are you disappointed that our meeting never starts on time? Because you should give up on that now,” you roll your eyes, as he holds the door open for you, and you step past him.

“It’s nothing,” you set your things down, sitting, as he takes his own seat beside you.

“It doesn’t seem like nothing,” Yuta tilts his head, leaning on his arm, a hint of concern across his features in his slightly furrowed brow and pursed lips, “you don’t have to talk about it — but if you want to, I’m here,”

You lean back in your chair, “It’s just my boyfriend — he’s been really busy with work so we haven’t been able to see each other, and now…” your gaze fixes itself to the table in front of you, taking in the faint scratches on the laminate wood, a sigh caught in the back of your throat, “he’s not sure if he’ll make it this weekend for my birthday, he said he would try his best,” and you shake your head, “and I know it’s a little…childish, but—”

“It’s not childish,” he gently cuts you off, “it’s understandable to want to spend your birthday with the person you love,” he leans forward to meet your eyes, “how about this? We can hang out on your birthday until your boyfriend comes down, because I’m sure he will,”

“How do you know?” and other people begin to file into the room, as he offers you a small smile.

“Who would ever keep you waiting?”

~~~~

“You don’t usually call at this time,” you yawn, rolling over in bed, as you hear Suguru rustle on the other end too — it was already late and you had already buried yourself under your comforter, scrolling on your phone before bed (even though you knew very well that you shouldn’t).

“Sorry did I wake you, sweetheart?” and you hum.

“What do I get if you did?” he laughs, his voice making your heart flutter in two seconds flat, “my sleep comes at a very high price, Professor,”

“Oh I know, I’ve paid that price several times, and you have willingly given it to me as well,” your lips curling, you knew he was lying on his back as he always did before bed, arm under his head as he looked up at his ceiling, “what’s the price this time?”

“Video call me,” and he does in an instant, his face popping up on your screen, lips quirked upwards at the sight of your face, glasses perched on his nose.

“Such an easy price this time,” and you yawn, turning over in bed onto your side, hiding your pout in your pillow — god, you wished he was beside you right now.

“The late hour’s making me soft,” you say, a strand of black falling in front of his face, and you only wish you could reach over and run your fingers through his silky strands, “did you need something?”

“I need someone,” and you snort.

“Well, you have me, congratulations,” you turn over onto your back, “now what do you plan to do with me?”

He smiles that same smile that had stolen your heart from the start, “Treasure you? Kiss you? Love you?” and your lips curl again, “apparently get a poodle and a dozen cats with you,”

“That’s a guarantee,” and he smiles.

“If it will make you happy, then yes it is,” you purse your lips, “what?”

“What’s gotten into you?” And his eyes seem to flicker elsewhere for a moment, “Suguru?”

His lips form a full smile, “Happy birthday, princess,” and you blink, glancing at the clock and realizing it was midnight now, “each and every day with you in my life has been the happiest I have ever been and ever hoped to be. I spent my life searching for the meaning of life — but I didn’t find it, until I met you,” his voice is soft as tears burn at the corner of your eyes, “I don’t know what it is that I’m owed — but I don’t know what I did to deserve you,”

“I love you,” you whisper, “I wish I could hold you,” your fingers caress the screen, as if your touch could teach through it, and he presses a kiss to his hand.

“I love you too — and I promise I’ll hold you soon,” he lays back on his bed, “you’ll be sick of me soon enough,”

“Never,” you settle onto your pillow, “will you stay on the phone with me until I fall asleep?”

He only smiles, “Anything for you.”

~~~

Anything but being able to be here by lunch or dinner at this rate. You checked your phone — only to find his last message — “I’m almost done. I’ll let you know when I leave for the station,”

But it had been over two hours and there had been no update — even after you had texted him twice to ask where he was. You were caught between worry and disappointment — anxiety pricking at your skin, enough to annoy but not enough to pierce through to full panic. And disappointment felt like a weight that hovered above your heart, close enough to feel, but not enough to hit yet.

You didn’t want to feel this. It wasn’t his fault. You knew that he was trying — and you didn’t resent him in the least for it. But that didn’t mean you wanted him here any less — especially after it had been almost two months without seeing each other.

And a knock at your door made your eyes snap over, as you tripped over yourself to get to the door, “Who is it?”

“It’s me—“ but it wasn’t Suguru — it was Yuta. And you opened the door, a small smile on your lips, as Yuta stood in a black sweater tucked into dark gray jeans, and a deep maroon jacket pulled over it, “happy birthday,”

“Oh, thanks—“ and you blink, “oh my god, we had plans I’m sorry — I forgot,” you groan, and he leans sideways to take a look at your apartment, spotting the blanket on your couch and a pillow.

“Did I interrupt your date with your couch?” you roll your eyes.

“You did actually, it was a good one too—“ he cuts you off with a look, “I don’t know if I really want to go out. I was thinking I’d just—“

“What? Sit here and become one with your couch?” he raises an eyebrow.

You pout, “Yuta, I don’t know. I think I rather stay home—“

And that’s what you had done all day — Suguru had checked in here and there — trying desperately to finish up work to make it for some part of your birthday but hadn’t checked in for two hours now. You were sure he was going to be on his way soon — but that didn’t make waiting any less depressing. Your phone even had sighed at you as you checked your messages for the millionth time to find no new ones — low battery life only taunting you in return.

“That’s what you’ve done all day — I’m sure your boyfriend would want you to go out and have fun—“ he crosses his arms in front of your doorway, “come on, we can just go watch a movie, no big deal — we can have some fun and kill a few hours, okay?”

And you stare at your phone again, before locking it — “let’s go,”

~~~~

Finally, Suguru sat down right as the train began to roll forward — he had barely made it. The meetings stacked up the day before had put far behind on his grading — he nearly couldn’t make it.

Not if he hadn’t stayed up until 3:00 AM.

He checked his phone — he should make it by 5:00 PM, which should leave plenty of time for dinner and he checked his bag for your gift — it was just what you wanted — a necklace you had pointed out to him, a dragon with multi-colored gems. He laid against the seat, his forehead leaning against the cool glass.

God, he missed you.

It had been too long. Since he had even seen your face not through his phone screen and heard your voice whisper in his ear not through his cellphone. But that’s all he saw and heard of you lately.

He didn’t know the department would be this much of a mess when he took over. The last department head was truly enjoying his retirement months before it began. It was enough he had his department head duties but to teach two classes on top of that was enough for work to pile up until it was untenable. And he was unavailable.

How many times had he fallen asleep on the phone with you? How many times had he canceled plans to come see you? How many times had he missed dates?

And how many more would there be?

He knew you said everything was fine, he knew you understood his circumstance, he knew it wouldn’t be forever — but still — he wrung his fingers in his lap — why did it feel like it already had been forever? Since he had seen you smile, seen you laugh, held your hand, kissed your lips — it felt as if you were disappearing from his grasp.

But he wouldn’t let it happen — he couldn’t.

~~~

“Please turn your cellphone off and place it in these bags before entering the movie,” the ticket attendant told you and Yuta as he handed you both your tickets for something called, Human Earthworm 4, handing you both phone pouches.

You knit your brow together, “But—”

“This is an early screening of the movie, so the staff has been told that all persons seeing this movie today must lock their phones in these pouches before entering the theater,” the attendant explains, gesturing to the cardboard cutout of the movie with a sign that said ‘early screening’ in bold letters, “otherwise you could exchange your tickets for a different movie,” you purse your lips — you had been looking forward to seeing this movie, especially early. And Yuta had even bought the tickets ahead of time after hearing you talk about it at one of the student government meetings.

Yuta’s eyes slide to you, “We can see another—”

“It’s fine,” you shake your head, giving a small smile, “Let me just send a quick text,” you step away for a moment, texting Suguru — I’m going into a movie, I have to turn off my phone. Let me know when you’re on the train.

You lock your phone with a sigh, placing it in the bag — either way, he hadn’t texted, so you were sure he wasn’t on the train yet. And you weren’t sure if he would even make it. It was fine — you glanced at Yuta, walking over to the movie theater — it really was.

Because it wouldn’t be forever.

~~~~

The screech of the train jerks Suguru awake, his eyes burning, as he glances out the window — the sun beginning to give up the sky already, starting its descent. He rubs his eyes with the back of his hand as he checks the time — fuck, it had been an hour already. He leans back, glancing through his notifications and he sees a text from you.

Fuck, he had forgotten to respond to your messages earlier. He was a mess trying to get to the station, a flurry of papers, caffeine, and adrenaline — and he had spotted your messages before he left the office, only to make a mental note to reply once he was on the train. Where that note had been left in the recesses of his mind he could only guess.

He types: I’m so sorry, sweetheart — in my rush to get here, I didn’t let you know — I’m on the train already—

And then he pauses, he could surprise you — at your apartment. You’d be home after about an hour it seemed by the time he got to your place — it was perfect. He could pick up your cake (the one he had pre-ordered) and set everything up just in time — and then he could take you out for the dinner he had promised you.

He deletes the text, rewriting it — I’m so sorry sweetheart. I just finished work. I should be there by 7:00 PM. I love you. I’ll see you soon, birthday girl.

He sends the message, a smile on his lips — maybe there was something special he could do today, as he watches the train continue on its way.

He only hoped it would work out in his favor.

~~~

“It was perfect — the metaphor? Did you not see the metaphor?” Yuta nodding along to your rant as the two of you make it back to your apartment, “I know it seems like a dumb movie but if you read between the lines—” and you glance at Yuta, who continues to nod, and you stare, “you hated the movie, didn’t you?”

“No, no, I didn’t—” and then you raise an eyebrow, “it was really bad — have you seen good movies before?”

You laugh, shaking your head, “There’s no accounting for taste,”

“Clearly,” he replies, and you push him playfully, crossing your arms, as he grins back at you, “well, I’m glad you enjoyed it, that’s the important part,”

“And you got to bully me about my movie taste so that’s a lovely end to the evening,” he snorts, as the two of you make it outside your apartment door, “thanks for dragging me out — it was really nice,” you dig in your bag for your keys, “it was fun,”

“I’m glad I could help — I hope I made your day a little better,”

“You already do that by just being you, Yuta,” you pull your keys out, your phone slipping out with it — “shoot,” you kneel down and Yuta does too, fingers brushing as you pick it up — as your phone springs back to life, “shit, I guess i forgot to turn it back on,” as you rise, beginning to unlock your door as your texts start to come through — and you blink, right as you turn the knob, slowly reading the first message as you open the door only spotting Suguru’s back through the crack in the door.

Fuck. And you quickly shut the door.

“You okay?” Your eyes flicker up, forcing a small smile, as Yuta tilts his head.

“Yeah, sorry — my boyfriend is inside I think,” your mind in a dizzying panic, “I should go talk to him, alone,” you shift from foot to foot, looking incredibly awkward — but it seems to work, as Yuta nods.

“Right, of course, I”ll go,” he bites his lip, “let me know if you need anything ok?” And he’s gone, as you turn back around, taking a beat, before you open the door.

“Surprise?” you say, and Suguru is holding a cake with lit candles, lights dimmed, a small smile on his lips.

“I think that’s supposed to be my line,” he frowns at the expression on your face, “what’s—” and you shake your head, walking over.

“We’ll talk about that later,” you stand in front of him and your cake, “All I want to focus on is you and my cake,” and your lips curl, “and I believe I’m owed a song?”

“Happy birthday to you,” he sings softly, jawline illuminated by the low light of the candle, “Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday, my dear sweetheart,” and you bite back a grin, “Happy birthday to you,” he holds the cake up a little higher, “make a wish,”

You hum, “I don’t know what to wish for,” you blow out your candles, before taking the cake from his hands and placing it down before slipping into his arms, “I have everything I want right here.”

~~~

Suguru had almost gotten it right. Almost.

“Yuta almost saw you earlier,” you admit, “he didn’t, I realized before and made an excuse but,” you sigh, as the two of you sit on the couch, your fork toying with your slice of cake, “it was close,”

Close. Close to revealing your relationship. Lose to jeopardizing your future. Close to ruining your friendship. It was far too close — or was he far too close to you?

His brow knit together, “I’m sorry — I shouldn’t have let myself in and I should have texted earlier—“

“It’s not your fault, Suguru, it’s fine,” you offer a smile, “I don’t even mind if Yuta knows — he’s a good friend,”

“But still—“ you drag a finger through frosting and place a dollop on his nose, “sweetheart—“

“Let’s not focus on that right now. This is the first time I got to see you in weeks,” you lean over and lick the frosting from the tip of his nose, a warmth spreading across his face from your touch, “I want to enjoy the rest of my birthday with my boyfriend, okay?”

But he still couldn’t bring himself to pull away — not now.

“You’re right,” he murmurs, leaning in to press a kiss to your lips — it had been far too long since he had felt the soft press of your lips against his own. He could taste the frosting, the sickly sweetness didn’t begin to compare to your taste, and how much he had ached for it.

But it also didn’t stop him from dragging a finger dipped in frosting across your cheek.

“Suguru!” You gape at him, looking utterly too adorable with your pout and the frosting across your cheek, “on my birthday too?”

“Well, you’re so sweet, I wanted to see if it was possible for you to be even sweeter,” and he leans over licking the frosting from your cheek, “looks like it’s not possible—“ and you swallow his sentence with a kiss, as your plate and fork clatter as you set it down on your coffee table, climbing into his lap, your knees on either side, “our reservation — we’ll be late,” even so his hands drag down to your waist, pulling you flush against him.

“I think I want dessert first,” you murmur, before finding his lips in a kiss again.

It’s hours later, and you’re fast asleep beside him, your face buried against the crook of his neck, as Suguru runs his fingers through your hair. But he can’t sleep. Not when he keeps thinking about what you said.

You didn’t deserve this. To spend days waiting for your boyfriend to be free, to spend your time wondering when he would be able to call you, to spend your time stressed out at the idea of getting caught. A relationship should be easier, it should be fun — but you haven’t had either since he had to move.

His fingers brushes against the curve of your cheek and then tracing the chain of the necklace, thumbing the dragon charm. He loves you — he loves you, but was it enough when you deserved so much more? How many more things would he miss because of work? How many more things would you hide because you didn’t want him to feel guilty? How many more times would he let you?

He had felt you slipping from his fingers these last few weeks — he presses a kiss to your forehead — but he had never considered whether he should let you go.

Until now.

~~~

Can we call tonight? I miss you.

Suguru glances at his phone, students already filed in and sitting, the quiet chatter before class began. It had been like this for a week. He locked his phone, tucking it away in his pockets.

“If you all will sit and settle down, we’ll begin today’s lecture,” he says to the class, “we’re going to continue our discussion from last class on Scanlon — we’ll start with any questions left from our conversation,”

Several hands fly up, and he chooses one to speak, “I had a question,”

He blinks, spotting you amongst his students, “What are you—“

“Professor, you haven’t let me ask my question,” you pout, as you lean against the desk, arms crossed, “I need to understand the material to pass, don’t I?”

All replies get stuck in his throat — as words fail him, as they always did with you. He’s only able to nod. And you smile, lips curling wide.

“Scanlon posits the question “what do we owe to each other?’ But there is no one answer — we are meant to figure that on our own,” you lean back in your chair, “and I believe I’m owed at least a text back,”

The students’ quiet murmurings and piercing stares drawing heat up his neck, and you were the one who lit the match, flames licking at your heels.

“Sweetheart—“

“Do you get to call me that after how you’ve treated me?” you scoff, as you slide from your chair onto your feet, “no visit in weeks, barely any phone calls, and once we even got on the phone, you would fall asleep. Have you asked how I’ve been? How have I dealt with all of this? Do you even know how my semester is going?”

His mouth is a desert, and his words have all but deserted him — as he fumbles for any syllables he could grasp onto, but finds none. Because he has no excuses to be made.

You walk down the stairs of the lecture hall, as the slow steps you take ring in his ears, “do you know what I’m risking? My reputation, my career, my future — for what? For you? I know my answer to what I want in life. I know my answer is you — can you say the same?”

And the class is gone — and it’s only the two of you.

“I’d do anything for you, I’m sorry, I haven’t been able to. I—“ his voice breaks, and your hand finds his cheek, forcing his gaze to meet yours.

“Except let me go, apparently.”

RING. RING. RING.

His eyes flutter open, a breath caught in his throat, as he squeezes his eyes shut for a moment, before reaching blindly for his phone. He glanced at the screen now, turning off the alarm, spotting a text from you at the top.

Morning Sugu — I miss you <3, can we call tonight?

And he stares at your message before locking his screen and placing his phone down and turning around.

He needed to talk to you.

~~~~

“You’ve checked your phone like for the millionth and one time,” your eyes find Yuta’s as the two of you continue to put up flyers for the student government hosted dinner later in the week, “what’s going on?”

“Nothing, I’m fine,” and he stares at you, “what?” And then you sigh, “my boyfriend — it just feels like he’s been avoiding me, and I don’t know why,”

“Have you asked him why?” He holds a flier and tapes it a bulletin board outside, and you shake your head, “maybe you should try,”

“I want to, I just never get a chance to — he’s been so busy with work and I haven’t—“ and you sigh — it had been over a week since you and Suguru had even spoken on the phone, much less even video called, “I feel like something’s wrong — something is bothering him,” your voice falters, as you swallow your emotions, a sigh on your lips, “I don’t know,”

Yuta takes a pause, stealing a glance at you, before he turns to look, “You’ll only know if you ask — and the longer you wait, the harder it will be to be honest,” he glances away, “trust me,”

You crumple the flier in your hand, squeezing, “I’m just scared of the answer,” you admit. It had been so difficult to get to this point — tears roll down your cheeks — to see Suguru slip away because of this would be too much.

“I know,” Yuta says softly, as he gently places his hand on your shoulder, “but you still need it regardless,”

And then you hear a voice call your name, and you wipe your tears hurriedly as Yuta pulls his hand away, your gaze snapping over to see Professor Yaga and—

Suguru?

~~~

“Look who’s here for a meeting,” Yaga says, clapping a hand to Suguru’s shoulder, “did you hear that Professor Geto had become department head of the Kyoto sister university?”

And Suguru knew you very well had — but you hadn’t heard he’d come here for a meeting. To be fair, he didn’t know until this morning — but to be even more fair, he had plenty of time to tell you. But he didn’t — because he was hoping he wouldn’t see you, not like this.

“I did,” you force a smile, “it’s good to see you, Professor Geto, how have you been?”

You’re a natural at acting as if nothing is the matter — but he’s become a master at seeing right through it. He spotted the way your fingers wiped away your tears, your red rimmed eyes, and the plastered on smile that was nearly pulling into a frown. He resisted the urge to purse his lips — he had wondered for a split second what had made you cry? Until he saw the flicker of a glare in your gaze, and he knew he was the reason.

And it was yet another reason he needed to end this.

And this — Suguru’s eyes flicker between you and your friend — was the friend he assumed was Yuta, his brow knit in confusion, “I’ve been well — it’s good to see you, I hope the semester has gone well for you?”

You shrug, your expression unreadable, “Well enough, you know how the semester goes — it’s very busy around this time. Easy for things to slip through the cracks,” and he forces his gaze to not waver.

“Very true, it’s important to keep on top of things,”

“Especially the important things,” you give both him and Professor Yaga a stiff smile, “It’s good to see you both, but we have more flyers to hang up for the event coming up later this week,” you take Yuta’s hand, “if you’ll excuse us,” and the two of you disappear off around the corner.

“It was good to see her, wasn’t it?” Professor Yaga says, a smile on his lips, “she’s come a long way after your class — she was already an excellent student, but now, I see even brighter things on her horizon,” as he continues to walk down the hallway in the opposite direction, and Suguru spares a single glance over his shoulder, before pulling out his phone and texting you:

Can we talk later? I’ll let you know where.

“It was.”

~~~~

“Old habits die hard?” you sat on Suguru’s old desk as he walked in, your arms crossed in front of you. And Suguru tilts his head, closing the door behind him.

“Did something happen in this room?” and you roll your eyes, as he steps forward, “ah, yes, you’re referring to your grades right?”

“Yes, my grades — I’m still upset about that 99,” but the playfulness all but dies on your lips as he draws close, your eyes unable to meet his gaze, as if you would see some truth you weren’t ready to uncover, “Suguru, what’s going on?”

“Sweetheart—”

“You’ve been distant since my birthday, avoiding calling me, you barely text me — and today, you didn’t even tell me you were in Tokyo,” your voice breaks — even if you had thought what you wanted to say to him a million times today — it didn’t make it any easier, “are you upset with me?”

“No, no, you didn’t do anything wrong,” he’s shaking his head, as he cups your cheeks, “you didn’t do anything except be completely wonderful,” he swallows, voice catching, as he seems to struggle with his words, “and that’s why I have to let you go,”

The sentence repeats in your mind over and over — and you still can’t make sense of it. No, no, it didn’t make sense. Why would he want to break up?

One word was all you could manage to respond with — “What?”

“Sweetheart, you deserve someone who can be there for you, someone who will be there with you when you need them, who will call you, prioritize you, give you all of their energy — and with this distance—”

“We can make it work—” and you know you’re crying now, tears rolling down his knuckles, filling the chasm he’s making between the two of you.

He’s running his fingers through his hair, “You’re making this work — I’m trying too but I haven’t been able to visit you, I haven’t been able to see you or talk to you properly in weeks—”

“It’s not forever, it won’t be like this. I’m almost done with my degree, I can move down to Kyoto—”

“And I don’t want you to limit your options because of me and my career,” he cuts you off gently, as his thumb rubs back and forth, wiping your tears away, “you have such a wonderful future ahead of you — whether you decide to pursue a Ph.D. or a lecturer position or whatever else — I want you to make that decision without my presence being a factor—”

“But—” and he’s pressing his lips to you softly, it’s gentle and sweet — his hands holding you as if you would break apart in his fingers before him, as his lips finally part yours “Suguru, I know what I’m doing—”

“I know, but so do I,” he murmurs, as he begins to step away from you, his warmth leaving your body, “if it’s easier for you to hate me, hate me — if it’s easier to be indifferent, be indifferent — I just can’t hold you back, sweetheart. I can’t do that to you — whether it’s professionally or personally,”

“Suguru, you’re not letting me have a say in this,” and he takes your hands, lacing your fingers together, “I want this, I know it’s been hard, but don’t you want this too?”

“I do — I love you, but that’s why I can’t do that to you. I want you to be happy—”

“Even if it comes at the cost of your own happiness?” you scoff, “Are you subscribing to utilitarianism? Are you okay being a happiness pump?” Your fingers try to find purchase on his cheek, but he pulls away, hands falling away from yours.

“I am, if it means you’re happy, then I am,” Suguru whispers, glancing away from him, “it’s not worth the risk,”

Your words are quiet, as you swallow your tears, and you force your voice to be steady, “You’re making this about me — when it’s about you too,” you brush past him, “I didn’t expect you to be a coward, Suguru, but I suppose, I got the answer I deserve.”

And the door shuts behind you, tears burning as you walk off — and you know that he wouldn’t follow.

But you still hoped he would.

~~~

Suguru stands by the window, watching students file in and out of the building.

It was the right thing to do. That’s what he kept telling himself — over and over and over. But if it was so right, then why did he feel wrong? Wrong for breaking your heart. Wrong for letting you wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong. He spent his time debating amongst others what right and wrong really was, but he always knew there would never be an answer.

And then he spots you leaving the building, before you bump into someone who stops you, your head down, but it doesn’t work, as the person pulls you into a hug. And he knew who it was — it was that student from earlier — Yuta. He had seen the way he looked at you — the same softness that Suguru had recognized because he saw it in himself.

He knew you deserved better, just because you were his answer —- he watched you sink into Yuta’s arms — doesn’t mean he was yours.

✧ a/n: ahhh the anticipated fourth part!! there’s gonna be one more part of the main series and then it’s onto extra credit fics :). Don’t worry it will be a happy ending!! I promise!

✧ taglist: @hatsunemitskislobotomy , @difficultdomains , @diogodxlot t, @that-goth-bisexual , @dazailover1900 0, @aliyalala , @ashhlsstuff , @blue041803 , @mwtsxri , @bblgumfairy , @sukunasleftkneecap , @xo-evangeline , @fiannee , @teatreeoilll , @chalametet , @ryukaver , @d1gitalbathh , @saga3ious , @seventhcinema , @satosugucide , @your-l0nely-star , @sokkasmoon , @deegausserr , @hyookka , @oggsyy , @littlebitb , @higuchislut , @ti-mame , @itoshisins , @cerene-dipity , @onionsoop , @sinlillith , @izzythenaive , @lalacute03 , @rxndou , @c-themoon , @xxrag-d0llxx , @hqtoge , @sugarxlumps , @hopeluna , @actualdeemon , @enchantedpendant , @serendididy , @soulstealercat , @neuviloved , @simply-a-s1mp , @satorusmochis , @maddietries ,

#sab [mlist]#sab series [prof suguru]#suguru geto x reader #suguru geto smut #suguru geto x you #suguru geto fanfiction #jjk smut #Jjk fanfiction #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #geto x reader #geto suguru smut

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ftmgirlie · 5 months

Text

Detrans Resolutions

I was too late for detrans december, so why not detrans 2024!

last update: jan 3, 2024

Let’s see how far we get hehehe

This will be counted until January 31, however, i’ll immediately start when i get home from the holidays ; )

I hope we can get a whole year of fun though!

every note = a day of letting my hair grow out

every 2 notes = groping my tits for 5 mins for a night

every 5 notes = a day of wearing panties

every 10 notes = a week of keeping my pussy shaved

every 15 notes = I won’t bind for five days

every 20 notes = a week I wear clothes that show off my curves

every 25 notes = I’ll fuck my pussy with my thickest dildo every other day for the rest of the game to remind myself of it’s true purpose

every 50 notes = I’ll go outside with a buttplug without panties or any other underwear

every 75 notes = i’ll skip a shot of t

100 notes = I’ll wear feminine perfume for a month

115 notes = i’ll shave my legs

125 notes = i’ll try to induce lactation

150 notes = i’ll wear lipstick for a month

200 notes = i’ll put my full first dead names on my header

250 notes = i have to keep an edge streak of two weeks to come once

300 notes = i have to get my nails painted once a month and keep it on as long as possible

325 notes = i’ll stretch my holes with an expanding toy every week

350 notes = i’ll try double penetration every 20 notes onward

375 notes = i’ll try pills that help with lactation

400 notes = i’ll make an account on a hookup app

450 notes = i’ll stop birth control

500 notes = i’ll have unprotected sex and try to get bred every 100 notes onwards

600 notes = i get a temporary womb tattoo

700 notes = i have to learn how to cum just from my nipples being played with

800 notes = i cant touch my clit without permission anymore

1000 notes = i stop ordering t vials and i can only use the one i have left until it runs out (its less than 5 ml)

1200 notes = i get a permanent womb tattoo

1500 notes = i get my ears pierced and wear feminine/dangly earrings every day

2000 notes = getting my nipples pierced (note: i may have to delay this to induce lactation better)

4000 notes = i get my clit pierced

5500 notes + submit suggestions in my asks/dms if you have any (i’ll most likely add them + i loooove submissions)

5000 notes = i publicly announce my detransition and return to womanhood

spamming encouraged! do your worst!

i’ll be posting an update on the total count of everything on jan 31!

#forced detrans #ftm detrans kink #fakeboy #ftm girl #detrans kink #ftm misgendering #induced lactation #ftm humiliation #ftm forced feminization #ftmtf kink #misgender me #misgenderingkink #detrans resolutions

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inkedbybarnes · 2 months

Text

his baby

bucky barnes x fem!reader

summary: bucky won't call you by your name.

word count: 400+

warnings: 18+ minors dni. established relationship. tooth rotting fluff, or worse... allusions to smut. a whole lot of usage of petnames mainly being baby, bucky being obsessed with the reader (that's a warning, i say), lowercase writing.

i have no idea what this is (okay, maybe i do) but it happened. really cheesy, but i guess i'm into that sometimes. hope you like this one!

dividers by @cafekitsune!

comments, reblogs, and likes are highly appreciated. thank you! ♡

“where's my baby?”

those three words kept echoing all throughout the compound this morning. most of the team were up and awake to welcome bucky, steve, and sam who just arrived home from their week long mission.

but his baby was missing.

“oh, god. here he goes again.” sam shook his head, fatigue written all over his face, but a bit of amusement from bucky's behaviour still shining through. he couldn't deny how admirable bucky's adoration for you was.

“calm down, punk." steve pat his shoulder reassuringly. “i'm sure she's here somewhere.”

“yeah, but where?” bucky asks again. “i haven't seen her for a week. i miss her.”

“you think he remembers her name?" clint jokingly asked.

“she has multiple names, remember?” tony answered. “baby, sweetheart, love, sweets, and.. what's the other one? i swear, there's another, or maybe two?”

before one of them could find the answer, bucky popped right in front of them to ask another question.

“is my baby okay?” his brows were all scrunched up, genuinely worried about you. “did you tell her i was coming home? i told her before we took off. why isn't she here? she's always—”

“okay, lover boy. your baby is alright, she's still sleeping in your room, i think.” tony answered him, finally calming him down. “and can you call her by her name when it's just us around? we're starting to think that you forgot what her actual name is."

“what? she's my only baby, it's not that hard to figure it out." bucky shrugged, causing at least three of the avengers to run their hands through their face at his answer. “and why is she still asleep? is she sick?"

natasha raised her hand, a guilty smile on her face. “i'm the reason for that. i made her stay up late with me last night to watch five seasons of a show we discovered accidentally,” she explained, a proud smile now replacing her guilty one. “she might be a little cranky from the lack of sleep, so you better have something for her when she wakes up.”

“oh, i do.” bucky grinned like he already knew what to give her and was prepared for it. “all of you might want to leave the tower for the entire day if you don't want to hear me giving it to her.”

what used to be the shouts of bucky looking for you were now replaced with the grunts and complaints of the team because of bucky's answer.

if you have any requests for bucky, send them my way! 💌

#bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes x fem!reader #inkedbybarnes

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starstruckmiraclekitty · 6 months

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“I think we should break up.” Simons words were like a ton of bricks, nearly taking the wind out of you. He stated it so plainly, without any hesitation that it had your entire world spinning.

“Wait, what?” You asked, struggling to blink away the hot tears that were threatening to fall. “Simon, you don’t mean that.”

“I do.” His eyes landed anywhere but you, a trick you knew he had in order to keep his composure. There was something more he wasn’t telling you.

“But why? What’s changed?” Your voice was quivering now, praying the man you loved so dearly would just look at you. “Simon, what’s going on?”

Simon said nothing, his eyes glued to the floor as he tried to steady his breathing. He couldn’t look at you. He knew if he did, he’d go back on his word.

“Simon Riley, you answer me right now.” Tears were flowing freely down your cheeks now as you were no longer able to keep your composure. “Simon!”

“I don’t deserve you alright?” Simon finally looked up at you, the harshness in his tone causing you to flinch. “For fuck sakes, I don’t. You are everything I’m not. You’re gentle, you’re kind. You care about everyone so selflessly, and you deserve someone who can be on that level with you.”

“Si.”

“No.” Simon cut you off before you could speak, his eyes flickering back to the floor. “I’m a broken shell of a man, Y/N. You deserve someone who can take you on dates. Someone who can bring you home to their family. Someone who you’re not waiting months on end for, wondering if they are even alive. You deserve anyone but me.”

You choked back a sob, the words of your lover causing your heart to shatter. Is this truly how he felt? Had you failed as a partner to make him feel that he is worthy of love?

“I got my family killed. My best friend died because I wasn’t there fast enough. Everywhere I go, death follows me.” Simon continued. “I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you.

“Look at me.” You spoke, your voice stern as you blinked away some of the tears. “Simon, look at me.”

Simon’s gaze lifted, and the sight of him caused your tears to flow down your cheeks once more. He was crying. His cheeks were blotched red, something you’d never once seen on him in the years you’d been together.

You took a step forward, slowly moving your hand to cup his cheek, breathing a sigh of relief when he didn’t pull away. “I don’t want, nor need anyone that’s not you.”

Simon blinked, clearing his throat to speak, but you cut him off. “You are the man that I want. You think you’re a broken shell of a man, but every single person on this planet is broken, in their own way. I want every part of you.

I want the late night phone calls when you’re on the other side of the world. I want the reunions when you come home, the feeling that I’ve finally got you back. I want the corny at home movie dates. I want the burnt dinners, the late night fast food runs. I want the man who so deeply cares about everyone but tries so hard to deny it. I want the man that would put his life on the line for anyone who he considers a friend. I want the dry humor, I want the witty remarks. Simon, I want you. Always.”

Simon’s tears now flowed freely down his cheeks, his lips quivering as he struggled with what to say. His arms wrapped around your torso, holding you tightly to him as a sob wracked his body. “I fucking love you, Y/N. I don’t deserve you but gods I’ll fucking try to.”

Little did he know, he never had to. You’ve loved him from the moment you met him.

#simon riley imagine #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #cod imagine #mw2 imagine #ghost x reader #ghost mw2

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pshaven · 11 days

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NUDES I CAN'T SEND park sunghoon ౨ৎ

synopsis! after a drunken night of events you can’t remember, you find a park sunghoon at your front door with apologies you thought you’d never hear.

wc! 6.4k+

cw! angst (sawry..), toxic!sunghoon kinda, ex!sunghoon, jealous/possessive!heeseung makes an appearance, reader sent nudes while drunk, dom!sunghoon, he's handsy, dirty talk, pnv, oral (f!receiving), riding, no protection mentioned, sunghoon calls reader baby, sweet girl, multiple orgasms, not really much aftercare mentioned, ningning from aespa mentioned

previous > next > break the skin mlst

as your best friend, jay’s approval is almost as meaningful as your own parents.

so during a night out at your guys’ usual hanging pub with a couple of your friends, including your new boyfriend of two weeks, sunghoon, jay gave you an encouraging smile, “i’m glad you two found each other.”

right then and there— you knew it. sunghoon was your one and only, it would be detrimental to lose him, especially after jay expressed his happiness towards the two of you.

and one of the biggest bonuses, unlike your past relationships, sunghoon doesn’t care about you being best friends with jay. he’s understanding, takes his time to know jay as well, disregarding your close friendship with another man.

you always saw yourself as a lucky girl to have sunghoon by your side. sunghoon who stayed up late with you, helping you study for a class he’s never even took. sunghoon who found you sitting in the corner of the library alone, your textbook papers wrinkled and dried up tear stains on them. sunghoon who has the most handsomest smile you’ve ever laid eyes upon in your whole life…

to think you lost someone that special makes your heart ache.

jay struggled badly with trying to keep your spirits up, and all your girl friends did their best to drag you out of your room to do even the most miniscule things in effort to get your mind off the breakup.

two weeks turned into two months, then one year, then two years. it seemed as if nothing has changed. you’re still happy, right? sunghoon still makes you happy. but you’ve never had to question if you made him happy. you suppose— that was perhaps the first crack in your relationship.

then, everything felt so.. stagnant. almost boring, having done everything together until there was nothing else left to do. you think both of you were starting to feel the same way. perhaps the two of you were at different stages in life.

“what do you wanna eat for dinner?” you asked, sitting on the couch with your legs crossed as the both of you channel surf.

“i’m fine with anything, you can pick.”

you shrugged, “i’m okay with anything too.”

you didn’t think it’d be the final crack until everything shattered.

his brows furrowed, and you could almost see the agitated vein on his temple. “you’re okay with everything, as always,” he says, tone laced in sarcasm as a scoff left his lips.

you felt your eye twitch. “what was that?”

for a long time, and maybe even the first, a big fight broke out between the two of you. it quickly became a shouting match, fueled with hurtful words that neither of you truly meant.

“aren’t you tired?!” sunghoon sighed exasperatedly, running a frustrated hand through his messy hair. you felt tears welling up in your eyes— it’d been so long since you last cried ever since you met sunghoon. you’d never think he’d be the reason for your tears.

“no? what are you talking about?!” you argued back, but your voice was starting to lose its fight. “i-i don’t know what to do.. are you unhappy with me?”

sunghoon couldn’t look at you.

“i…”

his hesitance said it all.

“you should have said something sooner… th-then maybe we wouldn’t be here right now,” you mumble quietly, chewing on the inside of your cheek to will your tears from falling.

“but i want to be with you still!” sunghoon pleaded, quickly rushing to you as he placed his hands on your shoulders, his grip tight as if you were about to leave.

you don’t have the willpower to leave.

“you want to be with me… but you aren’t happy with me,” you frowned deeply, your head hanging down as you stare at your feet.

“i-i’ll try… i want to be happy with you. i need t-to…” he choked on his own words, his mind reeling for the right words to say.

you sniffle, and sunghoon feels his entire world shatter to pieces when you rest your forehead against his chest. “you should go…”

you’re joking— he thought. no tears were daring to roll down your cheeks, and that he knows is when you’re putting up an act.

he put up a fight. you don’t actually want him to leave, do you? but then you’re balling your fists up against his shirt, tugging on the fabric. “i don’t wanna— i can’t.. be the reason why you hold yourself back.”

so then what? what was he supposed to do when you seem so desperate to let him go, let him walk out your life? it hurt like a bitch, and the reason for your tears being because of him made it a little easier to leave. in his thought process, he thought you’d stop crying because of him. then maybe, in a week or two, you’ll call him again.

but that call never came.

sunghoon waited months for your contact to pop up on his screen, but by the third month, he unwillingly had to let you go. he was angry– sure… maybe it did sound like a real breakup but he thought it was just a hiccup, a bump in the road, like what most couples have. but it wasn’t, and he was frustrated that you seemed to let him go so easily.

he couldn’t.

sneaky texts to your close friends, even jay, to ask how you’re doing. if you’re doing okay. the only one who was really honest with him, the only one who didn’t tell sunghoon that you’re “doing just fine, don’t worry about it” was jay. jay, albeit hesitant to do this behind your back, he knew how much sunghoon meant to you, and seeing your defeated expression everyday wasn’t exactly ideal for him.

“she’s not doing well… can barely get her out the house,” jay had said over the phone to sunghoon, the former letting out a sigh. sunghoon said nothing back. “you.. you should probably move on too. this isn’t healthy for the both of you.”

sunghoon agreed, then quickly hung up.

like hell he would be able to move on from you.

“ning? ningninggg~” you slur, eyes squinted to look for your friend, clumsily tripping over some other drunken people’s feet. you’re mindlessly searching around the cramped living room for her until you spot the brunette out in the crowd.

“y/n, where have you been! i’ve been asking everyone where you went,” she frowns with worry, rubbing your arms that are warm already from the alcohol in your bloodstream. you give her a cheeky smile, leaning your head on her chest as you sway her around drunkenly.

she laughs at you warmly, playing with your hair as she lets you do whatever for a few minutes until you jump suddenly, grabbing both her shoulders, “i should text him.”

her brow only raises, “text…who?” her voice slightly teasing, knowing your past nights with a certain roommate and classmate. but then her eyes widen when she realizes who you really meant, and she shakes her head immediately. “no! absolutely not, y/n! give me that fucking phone right now, i swear to god,” she yells at you, but you’re already bolting away from her with your phone in the air.

ningning chases you down, gaining stares but you’re too out of it to care and ningning is too busy running after you. you fall over a group of randoms sitting on the couch, and ningning is left to apologize for you. “i am… so, so sorry…” she mumbles, quickly snatching your phone as you recover and putting it in her pocket. “my dear y/n, please get up so we can just go back home. i don’t know if i can bare anymore embarrassment.”

safe to say, she dragged you back into her home and forced you to drink water despite your lazy denial of i don’t need it! and i’m totally okay!

you shift around in the bed, a groan escaping your lips when you feel someone tugging at your arm. “y/n,” ningning shout-whispers, knowing your hangover is probably killing you. you groan again in response, shaking your head and mumbling something around the lines of “five more minutes, mom”.

she rolls her eyes at you, sighing before placing the glass of water down on her bedside table. “i gotta get to class. please drink this water and gatorade here before you leave. i better come back to no throw up on my carpet.” she tells you, albeit knowing that you’re only half listening and are going to forget everything she said ten minutes later.

you do get up eventually.. two hours later. you drink the water and take the gatorade with you before cleaning up her room that ningning so graciously let you sleep in. you take an uber back to your shared apartment with heeseung, trudging lazily up the stairs and hallway of your complex. you insert your key to only find that the door is left unlocked, and you frown, ready to scold your roommate of his bad habit of not locking the door.

“heeseung–!” you yell, stepping inside but you’re not met with your roommate’s face. instead, your questionable ex stands by the couch, in front of you.

your jaw wants to drop, your eyes want to widen, you want to scream profanities and maybe cry in your room later. but you somehow can’t, and you stare at him blankly.

“y/n!” your name is called, but with two different voices– your ex and your roommate. heeseung comes running out of the hallway, in which you assume he was in the bathroom earlier when you had just gotten home.

sunghoon turns his head to look at heeseung, his brows furrowed and a look of disdain on his face. you choose not to question it, knowing the expression he’s wearing all too well, so you move your attention to heeseung.

“what?” you ask, taking a step towards him as he gestures for you to go with him into the hall with a tilt of his head. you follow, exchanging a quick glance at sunghoon with your lips pursed into a line.

“what is he doing here?” you whisper, rubbing your temple as the pounding hangover begins to subside, but you think it’s about to come back sooner after seeing your ex in your living room.

heeseung rubs the nape of his neck, biting the inside of his cheek as he thinks of a reasonable explanation. he doesn’t know much about you and sunghoon, and he actually had only learned that he was your ex this morning. “uhmm… he showed up this morning.. and i was coming back from a class and he was just sitting out in the hall. he saw me approach the door and asked if you lived here. i then asked him, who are you, ‘cause i didn’t wanna give out your info! and then he said that he was your ex?? i didn’t even know you had one…” he rambles, mumbling the last part to himself but it doesn’t escape your ears.

you huff, slapping his arm, earning you an ouch! from him. “what the hell! so you knew he’s my ex and you still let him in?! you are a horrible roommate!” you scold, your lips curving into a deep frown.

“well… i thought that maybe you two had those ex’s but still friends kinda relationship…” heeseung shrugs his shoulders, giving you an awkward smile to try and save face. “i’m sorry, y/n! please forgive me,” he pouts suddenly, grabbing your hands and clasping them together with his.

you roll your eyes before bringing his hands to your lips. his eyes widen slightly, panicky as his eyes dart from the end of the hall to you. but the panic quickly leaves as it arrived, with you biting down on his hand and he hisses in pain. “fuck– i didn’t know you were into biting like that, y/n..”

“she is. i would know.”

both of your heads sharply turn to the intruding voice that joins the two of you in the hall, sunghoon with his arms crossed against his chest, leaning his side against the wall.

heeseung clears his throat after the silence that hung in the air, looking at you with softer eyes than before. he’s insinuating that he’ll be here, if anything went south between you and your ex. you give him a curt smile and nod, and heeseung takes a quick peek at sunghoon before he pecks a kiss on your cheek (that was very purposeful and much longer than what a peck should be).

heeseung leaves, his door shutting is the only sound between you two. you bite your cheek, clearly avoiding eye contact when sunghoon begins to step closer towards you, but not invading your space.

“you guys fucked, huh?”

your eyes shoot up at him. your mouth opens to retort, to say anything, but you’re stunned. sunghoon gives you a (sly) smile, eyes flicking between your eyes at the way your mouth quivers in nerves. “lucky guess,” he shrugs his shoulders, but it was more than just a lucky guess– there were too many signs of closeness that platonic roommates should not be having.

you still say nothing, waiting for him to speak and say what he wants from you, so that he can leave as soon as possible. you know well that small talk works nothing on sunghoon, and he only hates it more if not genuine.

“does he satisfy you?” he asks, and you feel like he’s poking at you, but his arms are still crossed as he interrogates you. you frown, nodding your head but sunghoon only scoffs, his smirk only growing more.

“ah… is that so?” he hums, unfolding his arms to dig out his phone from his pocket. he taps a few times on his screen before flipping the phone to show you.

and you feel immensely embarrassed. if you had the chance to gain a magical power right here, right now, you would pick invisibility without a question. you’re mortified at the sight of sunghoon’s screen– your naked body on full display. and not just one, not two, but four photos of you in different positions, in front of the mirror, you name it.

“well.. i gotta say, for someone who says they’re satisfied, i wonder why i got nudes then..” sunghoon muses, his canines showing through his grin.

a part of you wants to slap him, wipe that stupidly handsome grin off his face but you know that you’re the one that’s in the wrong in this situation. you sent your ex boyfriend nudes… you can’t even fathom the reason why you were trying to sendnudes in the first place, or what you were doing with sunghoon’s contact open. the two of you have been no-contact for a while since the mutual breakup, so why did your drunk mind decide that it was a good time to text him?

and it’s not like your sex life is dry… by any means! jake and heeseung can definitely vow for you, and the weird and sudden urge to prove sunghooon starts to take over you.

you scoff, “just wanted to show what you’ve been missing, i guess,” you shrug your shoulders, feigning confidence.

that’s when you forget how much sunghoon actually knows you– those two years didn’t go down the drain for nothing.

“i do miss it.” blunt as ever, sunghoon says it so flatly that it catches you off guard, your wide eyes meeting his sudden dark, bedroom eyes.

“oh.”

sunghoon struggles to bite back the smirk that grows on his face, taking another step towards you that starts to invade your senses– his cologne that he hasn’t changed since the day you first met. almost like a wave of nostalgia hits you, sunghoon decides to remind you what it feels like to have his lips on your skin.

but he’s not so nice, his lips barely grazing your jaw and his eyes hyper fixated on your own lips. your eyes dart up to read his face, but he’s so close, overwhelming you and clouding your mind, your hangover long forgotten.

“what about you?” he whispers, slightly pulling back just to tease you even more, not giving you what you want most.

“h-huh?” you ask, confused, already starting to feel dazed.

“you miss me too?”

honestly, you should be putting up more of a fight. the breakup was mutual, yes, but it still hurt like hell and you didn’t spend months picking your life back up and getting used to being single again. and you definitely know that jay would not approve, the man being your support system through it all no matter the multiple times you shut him out.

but a part of you just wants to think that maybe, just maybe, sunghoon is back for a reason. but you could also be gaslighting yourself for thinking that.. perhaps you want to feel less guilty about wanting to so badly indulge in sunghoon and your desires.

you were never known for having good self control, impulse usually taking over for most of your actions, and sunghoon knows that part of you very well to use it as an advantage.

“kinda,” you mumble, eyes avoiding his face as you feel your face grow a tad bit hot over the mere confession.

“kinda?” sunghoon hums, clicking his tongue as he shakes his head slightly. “i think you need a reminder, what do you think?”

before you could think– critically think about what the consequences are, you’re already nodding and all too familiar lips meet yours. soft and gentle to ease the both of you into it, having it been too long since the last time the two of you kissed. overwhelmed with the fluctuations of emotions that hit you, you practically moan into the kiss, causing him to bite your lower lip and earning a low groan from him.

the sound is enough to have your stomach churning, and like pavlov’s theory, your thighs clenching automatically. yeah, you definitely missed that– having sunghoon wrapped around your finger without having to do much.

“fuck…” he sighs, like he’s reminiscing an old memory but he might as well be, having almost forgotten how much you really affect him. a simple kiss that could pass as almost innocent (in his standards) has his pants tightening.

and you had forgotten how hot he sounds whenever he curses. before you realize it, you’re grabbing his wrist and taking him into your bedroom, door shutting closed behind him when you push his back into said door.

you quickly kiss him again, more feverishly and he’s fast to reciprocate and even chase after your lips when you even slightly pull back for a breath of air. his hands are roaming your body, getting familiar again with all your curves and marks that he’s studied for two years. he knows you love it when he gets grabby, so a tight hold on your waist has you moaning again into his mouth and you can feel his smile against your lips.

“lemme eat you out, baby,” sunghoon mumbles mid-kiss, his grip on your hips tightening a bit more to convey his need, his brows slightly furrowed and he looks like he might die if he doesn’t. and you decide to use it to your advantage.

“hmm, under one condition,” you say, holding up an index finger between the two of your faces to prevent him from kissing you again. sunghoon’s confused, but he nods either way. you move away from him, his hands reluctantly letting go of your waist but he follows your every move. you go onto your bed, still facing him as you make your way to the center. he’s still moving with you like he’s under a spell, a knee propping him up on your bed as he stays at the edge.

slowly, you peel your bottoms off, and like the entranced man sunghoon is, his eyes are following your hands, waiting for your next words. you gesture for him to come closer, legs spreading to allow him space but your panties are blocking what he really wants to see.

“apologize.”

what you want him to apologize for? you don’t really know yourself. maybe the years you wasted on him? for showing up out of the blue? the hold he still has on you after all the hard work you spent on getting over him? luckily, sunghoon doesn’t question it. he gets close to you, between your thighs as he eyes your face. he visibly gulps before licking his lips and he nods without saying a word.

his face is inches away from your pantyclad cunt, and you start to feel a bit impatient (even though it’s only been a few seconds). he bites his lip, face tilting upwards and the tip of his nose perfectly grazes your clit. you gasp softly, looking down at him with the help of your elbows propping you up.

“‘m sorry…” he murmurs softly, lips brushing against your pussy. he eyes you from below, through his thick lashes and you practically fold, your face growing hotter.

he brings a finger to your cunt, still playing through your panties and he’s enjoying this more than you, feeling you clench and unclench in anticipation. he can’t hide the way his lips curve upwards into a smug smirk, missing how cute you are under his touch.

his index finger curves underneath your panties, tugging it to the side to view your bare, wet cunt for him. he hums at the sight, licking his lips once again as if he was trying to hold himself back, eyes never departing from your pussy.

“missed her s’much…” he almost slurs, drunk and he hasn’t even gotten a taste yet. he flattens his tongue, pressing his hot mouth against your folds. you squirm slightly, unsure hands gripping at your bedsheets. “y’know how much i like it when you grab my hair.. please do it again,” he pulls away from you, leaving you the dissatisfaction of no friction.

so you do as he says, hands leaving your bed sheets as you tangle your fingers into his hair, forgetting just how soft and well-taken care of his hair is. he sighs when you tug slightly at the strands, the air blowing into your cunt and you buck your hips slightly. impatient, sunghoon attaches his lips to your cunt and begins urgently lapping up your juices.

you squeal, your hand unintentionally tugging harder and he groans into you. your taste alone has his eyes rolling to the back of his head, mind starting to reel at the reminder of how pliant you are for him.

“i’m sooo sorry…” he mumbles sweetly into your pussy, practically inhaling you with his hands and arms wrapped around your waist, keeping you pinned into the mattress. he feels you twitch, his tongue bullying its way into your entrance and nose grazing your sensitive bud.

you’re shaking at this point, your body and mind from being overwhelmed by the familiar sight of sunghoon between your thighs and his mumbled apologies into your pussy like he’s apologizing to it. “sorry…sorry, sorry,” he mindlessly slurs as he continues to slurp and lap at your juices.

as it turns out, no matter how over you think you are from sunghoon, he’ll always have you in a vice grip, especially when you come undone from his tongue alone. you moan obscenities, your hips fighting against sunghoon’s grasp on you, but your hands pulling at his hair strands tell him that you want him closer.

he moans into you, moving away from your dripping entrance and up to suck on your clit, encouraging your orgasm. you curse, his name falling out of your lips and sunghoon’s eyes don’t leave your face for a single millisecond, too obsessed with your cute, overstimulated expression.

he finally pulls away from you, a filthy pop! following as he catches his breath. you lay your head back down on the pillow, legs giving out on being spread after sunghoon has let you go from his hold. but the moment is short-lived, his hand coming quickly to your thigh. “what are you doing? i want more.”

and what sunghoon wants, he gets.

apparently, he wanted it three more times.

“wai– oh!” you whine, but your words fall on deaf ears as sunghoon is nose-deep in your cunt, eyes shut and visibly enjoying the feast laid for him. you’ve given up on fighting him two orgasms ago, knowing well that he’s done when he says so.

“wh..why are you so insatiable ri-right now..?” you ask through broken moans and heavy sighs. sunghoon finally opens his eyes, looking up at you. he acts like he’s pondering for a moment, but he knows the answer already– he just doesn’t want to pull away from your pussy yet.

“mmm.. told you already, baby,” he mutters, tongue still licking up your essence around your cunt, “missed you… need’a satisfy my taste buds.”

with that answer, he’s back into your pussy, except this time he gives you the pleasure of his fingers inserting inside you for the first time that night. you gasp, your free hand lurching down to reach for his wrist, feeling your orgasm suddenly approach you rapidly.

“oh..oh fuck, i’m–” you whine, but you ddon’t need to tell sunghoon twice, inserting another finger. and, of course he knows how much you love the feeling of being stretched, especially when it’s in preparation for accommodating his cock for you.

your head is instantly thrown back, your nails gripping his hand turning white as you cum around his fingers and on his tongue, legs threatening to close shut around his face (not that he’d complain).

his tongue swirls and plays with your swollen clit, fingers not relenting on you even as your back arches off the bed. “‘m here, baby, cum for me, last one, promise,” he mumbles to push you over the edge, “will never leave you again, ‘m so sorry, i’m sorry, baby.”

it’s magical, really, the way his words can do so much on their own. maybe it’s the rasp in his voice that you’ve never really gotten used to, even when the two of you were together– it always had an effect on you. but perhaps, it’s really just sunghoon who has that effect.

you come undone for the third time this morning, hand clasping over your mouth to save your embarrassment, not forgetting your roommate residing two rooms away from you. sunghoon finally detaches his lips from you, his fingers replacing your cunt for his mouth. he groans at the taste of your sin, the side of his face lazily laid on your thigh as you recover.

you watch him suck his own fingers lewdly, a feeling of jealousy washing over you — what you’re really jealous of, you’re not sure. perhaps his fingers? his mouth?

“what’re you thinkin’ about, sweetheart?” his words snapping you out of your gaze, but he knows damn well what’s running through your head.

you mumble a mere “nothing”, your head turning to the side to avoid his eyes. he hums at your reply before kneeling off the bed, the sudden dip lifting off the mattress causing you to look at him again.

sunghoon peels off his shirt and undoes his pants, and you had completely forgotten that he was still completely dressed throughout your nth orgasms of him just eating you out. you crawl up the bed a little, your elbows propping you up as you watch him.

he tilts his head to the side, looking at you with a cheeky grin plastered on his face. “what’s that shocked look for? you know i’m not done with you.”

that you do, having dealt with his insatiableness when the two of you were together plenty of times before. you chew on your bottom lip as he joins you back on the bed, settling between your legs once again. he leans close to you, his chest just hovering above yours and his face so unbearably close to yours.

“you do know i truly did miss you, right…” he mumbles, his eyes switching its gaze on your lips and your own eyes. you don’t say anything, but he leans in even more, causing a small squeak to leave your lips in surprise. he tsks, his gaze leaving you for a second as if he was embarrassed, “had to convince one of your friends to tell me if you were doing okay or not. you got some really loyal friends..” he sighs, finally pulling away from invading your space.

his words surprised you, your friends never once mentioning sunghoon texting them to ask about you. a twisted part makes you feel giddy that he was still checking up on you after all this time.

“y’know you could’ve just come to me… after your whole rooming situation,” he continues on, his words in a low whisper, like he’s unsure if he should be saying all of this in the first place.

“i was afraid you’d turn me away.. and i didn’t want to bother you,” you reply meekly, still looking at him even if he wasn’t. but at your words, he turns back to look at you.

“i could never say no to you.”

and you know it’s true, park sunghoon would never dare tell a lie to you.

the silence engulfs the both of you for a minute before a small smile makes its way onto your lips. “i mean, if you’re just jealous that i’m rooming with another guy, you could just say that.”

his eyes widen slightly, a failed stifled smirk growing on his face. “ah, you always read me like a book, baby,” he hums, his hands trailing up your thighs and spreading them open.

you yelp when he tugs you closer to his torso, grabbing a hold of your thighs and lifting your leg above to rest on his shoulder. the tip of his cock barely brushes against your pussy, your hips already needily bucking for attention. he tsks at you, squeezing your thigh to get you to pay attention to him.

“please… hoon,” you give him a cute pout, one that he typically always falls for. but he seems to be stubborn today, intending on dragging out this long awaited moment.

“nah, don’t tell me what to do.”

you’re whining again, but he quickly shuts you up when he guides his tip to brush against your sensitive clit, a sigh leaving your lips. he repeats this action, your juices coating his cock and making it glisten under the sun peeking through your blinds.

“fuck..” he groans, slightly shaking his head as if to snap himself out of a daze, “can’t believe i even survived without you.”

his words hit you like a trainwreck, your head thrown back as you thrust your hips upwards, his tip catching at your entrance and slipping in slightly due to your slickness.

“hahh~ oh— feels good, more, p-please!” you beg, pleading at him with your eyes, causing him to grin and place a kiss on your leg that's resting on his shoulder.

“lucky i missed you— and this cute pussy,” sunghoon grumbles before bottoming all the way in, both of you moaning in relief into each other’s neck. he starts off slow, very much opposite to how the two of you used to have sex. but you suppose makeup sex to sunghoon is like this, not that you mind.

the two of you are already panting like animals in heat, caught up in each other’s body warmth and the way he stretches your walls out, your cunt accommodating the familiarity of your ex’s cock. sunghoon cages your head in with his arms, leaning his forehead against yours.

like you’re making love to each other, the eye contact you two hold is scary as his thrusts start to get harder and deeper, the skin on skin contact is loud and echoing throughout your bedroom.

“fuuckk,” sunghoon drawls, breaking eye contact with you first to squeeze his eyes shut, enjoying your gummy walls suck him in. you whimper, his moans having a well enough effect on your body as you feel your arousal stick to your thighs and his pelvis.

you pull him into a needy kiss, hushed moans being swallowed by the both of you to keep the noise level to a minimum (not that it’s really helping). the kiss is sloppy, spit drooling from the corner of your mouth as sunghoon speeds up.

“mmgh– oh fuck!” you whine, starting to feel how deep he really is. you swear he grew bigger.

sunghoon moves his hands to caress your hips and thighs, cherishing what used to be his. he moves his lips down to your neck, peppering wet kisses at your pulse point , causing shivers to run down your spine.

“nn-no, stop,” you giggle slightly, the sensitivity making you pull away from him but sunghoon doesn’t budge, his sharp canines dragging down to your collarbone. “you’re so cute, god..” he mutters, lifting body up as well as pulling your thighs up together, placing soft kisses at your ankle. “m’gonna fuck you like you deserve to, sweet girl.”

you don’t get a word out, a gasp pulled out of you as he thrusts roughly, the new angle making you feel like he’s in your stomach. you slap a mouth over your hand in fear of heeseung hearing too much from his room. sunghoon grins at you, canine peeking under his lip.

“no, no… what’re you doin’? he should hear you, so he knows what you sound like when you get properly fucked…” his last words said sharply, followed by even sharper thrusts that make you squeal even through your palm.

his brows are furrowed now, concentration fully on you as he focuses on your pleasure. his hand snakes down around your thighs, his thumb swiping at your sensitive clit. you let out a whine, the palm over your mouth long forgotten as you grip his forearm.

“ooh~” he hums, a deep chuckle leaving his lips, “you’re tightening up.. my baby is gonna cum, aren’t you?” he taunts, a brow cocking in question as a smirk appears on his face. you nod, your words being swallowed by your own moans and whines. you’re scratching up his forearm, not that he minds– he’s never minded when you mark him as yours.

you can’t even give him a warning, your orgasm crashing over you, splotches of white invading your vision as you toss your head back. sunghoon releases a groan, your walls clenching and unclenching around his cock causing him to pound into you faster.

he lets out another chuckle at your shaking body, his finger letting your clit go. he grabs onto your arms, pulling you up towards him. you instinctively wrap your arms around him, his cock resting deep inside you. your chest heaves up and down, resting your head on his shoulder.

sunghoon hums, “tapping out now? you used to last much longer…” he says, feigning a thoughtful tone to tease you. you pout, raising your head. you are tired, yes… but sunghoon always knows how to provoke you into continuing.

“i-i’m not,” you frown, suddenly raising your hips then bouncing back down on his cock. he sucks in a breath, leaning back slightly and using his arms to prop himself up.

“mmm, okay… i’ll give you two minutes before you’re whining, tellin’ me you’re too tired. ‘m gonna have to do all the work again,” he sighs dramatically, rolling his eyes sassily at you.

you slap his chest before looping your arm around his neck again. you don’t retort back– you’ll prove him wrong with just your actions. steadily bouncing up and down on his cock to create a nice pace for you, it’s not long before sunghoon is groaning out your name.

easily entranced by your bouncing tits in front of him, he wraps his lips around your nipple, swirling his tongue around it. you whine, your hips twitching in urge to grind on him rather than bounce, but you resist as your mission is to make your ex lover cum.

your hands tangle into his undercut, scratching as his scalp and back as you continue to ride him, the squelching of your cunt meeting his cock making the two of you even more needier. “oh fuuckk,” sunghoon almost whines, tearing his lips apart from your nipple. “don’t stop, juuust like that.”

your thighs are getting tired and starting to burn, but the twitching of his cock inside you keeps you going, knowing that he’s not too far off from his orgasm. slamming your hips down harder onto him, you grab his face and pull him into another messy kiss, since you know that sloppy kisses always get him even more worked up.

and you’re right, as sunghoon’s hips thrust back up into you, sloppily pounding as he holds your body still to hover above him, using you. but he doesn’t relent– making you cum only once on his cock? that’s never happened and he intends on never letting it happen. his hand once again sneaks down, rubbing your swollen and overstimulated clit. you cry out into his mouth, him easily shushing you up again as he pushes his tongue inside your mouth.

you both arrive at your climax, sunghoon groaning out your name against your lips as you grind hopelessly against him.

the two of you still are engaging in a kiss, less sloppier and more soft. pulling away to finally properly catch your breath, sunghoon rubs soothingly along your hips and thighs.

shouldn’t this be when regret starts flooding your mind and body? you should probably be freaking out now, telling sunghoon to leave and to never speak again. but.. you don’t feel the regret washing over you. maybe a little guilt, but it’s mostly because you told jay you would never be in contact with sunghoon again. and the fact that you told jay you blocked him, which you clearly did not, leading you to your current situation of being wrapped in his arms.

you’re a little too comfortable right now, listening to sunghoon’s soft breathing as the two of you embrace each other. you almost want to break down in tears, beg for him back, but that’s definitely the last thing that you should be doing. you need to consult with someone, and that someone being your best friend.

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