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#worry less smile more
lonestar-badash · 10 months
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Ya girl coming at you early this week in her $7 shirt from Walmart that says,
“Worry less, Smile more. Be positive. Sunshiny days.”
Worry is a thief of joy. Remember that.
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novelconcepts · 1 year
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There’s just something about stories that allow teenage girls to feel their anger without prettying it up. Rachel from Animorphs. KJ from Paper Girls (honestly, ALL the Paper Girls in different ways). Ellie from The Last of Us. So often, narratives find ways to sand the edges off a teen girl’s fury, make her sweet or overly verbal instead of violent. Stories that allow young girls to be angry, to be bloody, to bite back at the world with sharpened teeth—those are always my jam.
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merakiui · 1 year
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omg getting tag teamed by trey and cater while drunk in these tags !! your brain is massive as always 🫶🫶
also cater getting serious orz i never knew i needed mean(er) cater in my life but i'll 100% be brainrotting about that for the forseeable future!!!
[also trey changing the flavor of his own shots in the original drunk reader post. he's so mean >:o!! (i love him still)]
Yes!!! Just two kind and helpful upperclassmen helping you when you’re drunk. <3 aren’t they so sweet?
Serious Cater is always so fun to think about. I love the idea of him dropping his outgoing, extroverted side and becoming more colder or less cheerful when you’re drunk because you’re too intoxicated to realize the shift, so you won’t ask any questions if his tone isn’t what you’re used to. It’s such a shock to hear him sound anything less than cheery, but I think it’s so good to think about. orz I love a serious Cater who doesn’t have to keep up any masks when you’re drunk.
Trey is so sneaky. (๑•̀ㅁ•́๑) !!!! His UM is very useful during drinking games because he can trick you into drinking more simply by changing the taste so it will go down easier. And you would not expect him to do such a thing because he has such a kind face and he is so patient and sweet. But it is exactly that type you have to watch out for!! (I also love him despite his mischievous behavior hehe.)
#twisted chit chat#h2o2-and-baking-soda#oh!!! being tag-teamed by the housewarden + vice housewarden duos while you are drunk...#with trey and riddle it is essentially trey easing a very embarrassed and inexperienced riddle into sex#while assuring him that you will like it and so will riddle so he shouldn't worry and should just move his hips more#so that your mouth takes trey deeper#with azul and jade it's a competition to see who is better at railing you dumb and filling you the most#leona and ruggie is also a competition of sorts#but it's more so leona proving he can wring the most orgasms out of you without putting in too much effort#vil and rook is just the most nasty sex you will ever have#vil can be as filthy as he wants because you're too drunk so you won't remember if he looked anything less than beautiful during it#and rook will always be there to hype him up and say he's beautiful no matter what <3 so it's a very good time for everyone#kalim and jamil... also very messy sex so many positions because kalim can never settle on one for long enough#kalim's making you drink more while jamil's pounding into you from behind <3 he holds the glass to your lips and praises you so sweetly#malleus and lilia are fun because i think they also might engage in a little rivalry over who can make you feel the best >:)#i think they will also dote on you the entire time#you're on the brink of overstimulation and tears are in your eyes but they will both smile down at you and coo so sweetly#telling you you're doing well and that you are so good for them
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vigilskeep · 9 months
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enjoying anders n amara friendship
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veilchenjaeger · 1 year
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Yan Wei: You should go out and fall in love :(
Xu Youyi: Several people died, we were both murder suspects, I survived multiple attempts on my life and had the worst divorce in the history of humankind, but have I ever mentioned that I'm okay with all of that because I wouldn't have met you otherwise?
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sproutlett · 11 months
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i am a different person than who i was last year. my hair is longer and i cry less and i am stronger. i am a different person than who i was six months ago. i am free and different and am embracing change. i am a different person than who i was a month ago. i sit in the sunlight without worry and i don’t let things stick and i look up and smile. i am a different person than who i was last week. i explore more and look at the sky and laugh more. i am a different person than who i was yesterday. i let go and breathe. i am whole.
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I call this one "Double Kill"
[ID. First panel, Nino sits at his and Adrien's table in school, he's angled to face Adrien, his right arm resting on the back of their bench and his left hand on the table. He's saying "I still can't believe I got Rose with "Ligma"..." with his eyes closed. There's a small amount of text next to his head that reads: "It was funny, but I still feel bad..." indicating he's saying it under his breath. Him saying this gets Adrien's attention.
Second panel, Adrien is facing forward at Nino. His face is set in a worried smile as he asks, "What's "Ligma"? Is it serious?".
Third panel, Wide shot of them at their desk, showing Marinette and Alya at their table as well, looking down at them. Adrien keeps an expression of now confused worry as Nino looks at him with an open mouth. Marinette is looking down at Adrien with both hands over her mouth as her shoulders shake with contained laughter. Alya is also covering her mouth, but her joy is less contained as she smiles. The word "SPEECHLESS" is written above them to help get the surprise the three of them feel across.
Fourth panel, a shot of Adrien alone, facing forward and covering his face in embarrassment as the statement, "Just found out what Ligma is" is pointed to him in a looping arrow.
Fifth panel, a wide shot of Ladybug and Chat Noir sitting on the edge of a building together. Chat Noir is sitting criss cross with his hands resting on his thighs, sitting forward a bit to show that he's listening to Ladybug. Ladybug is much more relaxed, leaning back on her right hand and holding her left hand up casually. She's smiling as she recalls: "And then he fell for Ligma! I feel bad, but I kinda wanna see if he'll also fall for "Candace"..."
Sixth panel, Chat Noir is now crossing his arms, raising an eyebrow, squinting his eyes, and tilting his head. His right cat ear tilts as well, while his left one stays straight. The words: "Skeptical but curious" are pointed at him with a straight arrow. He's saying, "And who's "Candace"?"
Seventh panel, Ladybug is looking at Chat Noir with a shocked expression, her eyebrows raised and her jaw dropped. She's sitting straighter, her hand is still resting on the ledge, but it's no longer supporting her. The same "SPEECHLESS" is floating above her as it was seen in the third panel, to show just how shocked she truly is.
Eighth panel, Chat Noir is sitting with his knees up to his chest as he covers his face with his hands in embarrassment. His ears are flattened and his tail is curled around his ankles. The words "Just found out who Candace is" is pointed at him with a straight arrow. End ID]
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mostly-imagines · 1 month
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Guard Dog
jason todd x fem!reader
aka don’t fuck with jason’s girlfriend
4 in 1 blurbs
warnings: mildly creepy guys, standard protective bf methods
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Jason’s good at shutting people up very quickly. You’d almost call it a talent.
He shuts you up with a kiss when you get stuck in a rant, or with a hug to calm your worried rambles.
And when you’re in an incorrigibly teasing mood, he’ll throw you over his shoulder and carry you back to your bedroom to really shut you up.
With other people though, he has…different methods.
You sit atop your kitchen counter, trading lazy kisses in between giggles with your boyfriend. He stands in front of you, hands massaging your thighs as he leans in for another. You happily oblige.
You break off the exchange to lay a series of sweet kisses on that spot under his jaw.
His head tilts back, letting out a groan so low you nearly miss it. “Sweetheart…” he warns.
“Sorry…” you resign with a sheepish smile.
A knock at the door bursts you out of your shared reverie. You press a kiss to his knuckles and hop down to start setting the table.
Jason gets the door, greeting the pizza guy with a nod as you shuffle around the kitchen. The delivery guy hands him a receipt, asking for a signature.
Jason uses the door as a surface to sign, giving the delivery guy an apt view into your apartment, where he sees you getting out plates in the kitchen. More noticeably, he sees you in your boyfriend's shirt, which rides up just a little bit when you stand up on your toes to reach the top cabinet. The lift of the shirt exposes the bottom of your underwear, though it falls back into place again just as quickly.
Now, lucky for this guy, Jason’s facing the door and does not see him checking you out in your own home. Unlucky for this guy, he has wildly misread the vibe of your relationship. Or at least your boyfriend.
“Man, how do you get anything done around here?” He jests.
Jason looks up at him, and the pizza man’s eyes tear away from your legs to meet his hard gaze. It does not take him long to realize his mistake.
“Try again.” Jason behests, arms crossed in front of him.
The pizza boy’s eyes go wide and he shakes his head, stuttering. “I—uh, I said have a good night.”
“Mhm.” He grumbles.
The pizza guy hands Jason the box with shaky hands and scuttles back down the hallway.
Thankfully, you didn’t seem to notice the exchange, but even so, your boyfriend still glowers down the hallway after him.
“Jay?”
His attention snaps back to you, demeanor changing instantly. “Yeah, baby?”
You’re sitting in your usual spot at the table, his chair empty and waiting just around the corner from you.
“Come sit.” You say, with eyes that might as well be hearts.
He gives a reassuring nod and kicks the door shut behind him.
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You and Jason are sitting on the floor in his old room at the manor, your legs thrown over his. You lean up against his bed, asking him about posters on the walls and trinkets on the shelves.
His knee is propped up and your arm dangles across it, his hand in yours. He plays with your fingers and periodically leans forward to leave a kiss on them.
You’d just woken up less than an hour ago after spending the night post-gala, and it’s a peaceful, if not unusually quiet morning.
Dick shouts your name from another room, audibly booking it towards you. Yeah. That’s more like what Jason remembers.
He grumbles some annoyances, dropping his head against your intertwined hands.
Dick bursts into the room, clearly incredibly excited.
“What’s up, Dick?” You ask, calm as ever. Jason lets an unseen smile creep up, head still down.
Dick’s practically jumping up and down, “You gotta see the shit that Tim just found in the cave!” His face drops as he directs his gaze to Jason, “You’re not invited.”
“Thank God.”
Dick ignores him and grabs your wrist, yanking you up from the floor. This is one place where he differs from Jason—he’s not always quite so aware of his own strength.
His grip doesn’t hurt really, but it’s firm enough that you imagine there’ll be bruise marks there later.
“Hey.” Jason calls out, nodding his head to where Dick is holding your arm. “Ease up.”
Dick follows his gaze and immediately loosens his hold, apologizing to you before pulling you along once again (this time much more gentle).
You grin at Jason as he tugs you out the door, him returning it with an endeared smile as he watches you go.
Fuck he loves you.
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Jason had a decent break from his night job for once, and was happy to let you drag him out to a bar for a little date. You’d been linked at the hip for most of the night, his hands maintaining their ever present home on your waist with yours rested on his thighs as you told him about your hectic day.
He’d usually prefer to stay in bed with you for as long as possible when he gets time off, but you’d looked so excited asking him to go out with you—he never stood a chance.
You look up into the mirror as you wash your hands, a strand of hair falling into your face as you do. You push it back behind your ear and smile to yourself, recalling the several times Jason had wordlessly done the same throughout the night as you rambled.
You make your way back to the bar, smile immediate on your face when you see your boyfriend. It gets replaced rather quickly though, when a man slides in front of you, cutting off your view of him.
“Hey there.”
You have to take a step back because of how close he decided to stand to you. He looks sober (enough) but wildly overconfident in whatevers about to happen.
"Let me buy you a drink, pretty thing."
Jason calls you pretty thing sometimes. It makes the blood rush to your cheeks and an inescapable smile creep up on your lips. When this guy says it, it makes you literally frown.
"Oh no, I'm okay, my—"
"You seem like a dirty martini kinda girl." He expertly ignores you, clearly trying and failing to make some kind of innuendo there.
Jason's sitting back against the bar, watching the interaction carefully. You still can’t see him, but he’s close and you can rest comfortable knowing he’s looking out for you.
With that reassurance, you don’t play this out quite as carefully as you would if you were alone.
"Look, I don't want a drink from you, thanks."
Apparently that was the wrong thing to say to him because his face contorts quickly to mock-disgust that you figure is really just embarrassment.
“Hey, don’t be a bitch just ‘cause—”
You try to sidestep around him, thoroughly done with this interaction, but he grabs your upper arm harshly, pulling you to an abrupt stop.
Jason stands up real quick, yanking the guy backwards by his collar before you can even process what's happening.
Now, you know that Jason is an objectively intimidating guy. There's not many people that will come face to face with that absolute unit of a man and still decide to keep on trying him. However, you tend to forget that when you're so used to your gentle giant that only ever speaks to you kindly and touches you softly.
But his intimidating status becomes very apparent when the guy spins around, looks up at Jason, and immediately takes four steps back. He actually almost bumps into you in the process, not doing anything to tame Jason’s acute distaste for this man.
"Listen to me—back the fuck off before you get hurt."
“She—”
“I don’t give a fuck. Leave.”
The guy hesitates.
“Now.” Jason adjusts his posture to stand at his staggering full height, clearly with no qualms about putting him back in his place.
That does it for him, the man stumbllng away with half-committed mumbles of “whatever” or “something something lame anyway.”
Jason watches him until he walks out the door, before turning back to you.
He delicately takes your upper arm in his hand, pulling your sleeve up to search for bruising. But as harshly as he had grabbed you, it didn’t have the time to cause a bruise before Jason intervened.
“What’d he say to you?” Jason asks, brow furrowed as he inspects your arm.
“Nothing very interesting.” He looks at you mildly.
You smile and comb his hair back from his forehead, “Don’t worry about him. I’m good.”
He lets your arm go, and exchanges it for holding the back of your head, planting a kiss on your forehead.
You take his other hand and guide him back to your seats.
“Besides,” You look over his shoulder and let out a little shocked gasp. “Guess who just walked in.”
He gives you a questioning look before his face slacks, eyes widening in realization.
“No…” And you smile so brightly it almost makes up for what's coming his way.
You redirect your smile over his shoulder and give a wave to the door. Jason swigs down the rest of his drink, hand finding your waist once again.
“Jaybird!”
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Jason’s still exhausted from patrol last night but he’d insisted on going with you to the bar to meet your friends. You’d tried to convince him that it was okay to stay in and rest tonight, you’d be fine. But it was a losing battle.
You suspect it has something to do with him not liking when you go out in Gotham at night, especially when you’re drinking.
So he hangs out in the background of the buzz, with you sat in front of him, in between his legs.
You’re talking it up with Roy, who’s been making jokes about how Jason’s “moody ass” tricked you, “the ray of sunshine” into this relationship somehow.
You laugh, taking a sip of your drink. “Right, ‘cause you and Kori were in love at first sight.”
"Oh, fuck off." Roy jeers.
He doesn't say it with the cadence of a joke, but it is.
You know he's joking, he knows he's joking.
Jason, who very well may have been tuned out of the conversation up to that point, does not seem to know he's joking—or he doesn't care.
You don't need to look behind you to know that your boyfriend is in defensive mode, though the look of regret mixed with amusement on Roy's face gives a solid hint.
You hold your hand out to block Jason his path as he moves forward. He lets you stop him, though you're certain he could get past you without so much as blinking, no problem.
"Right. My bad, forgot your guard dog was here. Don't fuck off." Roy backtracks, hands up in front of him.
Jason just rolls his eyes, slouching back down. You reach behind you for his hand, giving it two squeezes. You know he’s tired, so much so that he almost punched his best friend for making a typical joke.
“Five more minutes, okay?” You say softly over your shoulder.
He nods at you blearily, and ducks his head down to rest on your back. You adjust your posture a little bit to make it more comfortable for him and continue on talking, his hand still in yours.
If he hadn’t fallen asleep so quickly, five minutes would’ve been five minutes, but instead it became something more like fifty.
He goes through patches where sleep isn’t always so welcoming, a phase he’s been in for the past couple of weeks. You’d been waking up to find the bed half empty, your boyfriend resigned to doing research on cases in an attempt to at least be productive while he’s awake.
You can’t protect him in the same ways that he protects you—you’re not a fighter or necessarily “intimidating.” But you can protect him like this, in these little ways. Letting him nap on you, making him close the case files and rest with you, holding his hand throughout the night so that when he inevitably has nightmares, he knows immediately that you’re still with him. That he’s safe.
So if he can get some much needed sleep while only costing you a stiff back tomorrow, you’ll happily take that deal as many times as he needs.
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sweet-as-an-angel · 8 months
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MW2 Reaction to You Being A Virgin
Warnings: 18+, Implications of Smut, Corruption Kink, Purity Kink, Innocence Kink, Ownership Kink, Age Gap, Implied Slight Yandere Graves Inexperience, Objectification, Dominant MW2, Soft MW2, Gaz is anxious :-( but trying his best, MW2 Trying To Be Smooth, Profanity, No Pronouns Used For Reader Except ‘You’.
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Ghost
The fact that you, innocent, are his to love and corrupt sends white-hot anticipation between his legs.
He’s imagined what you’d be like in bed: how you’d take him, the sounds you’d make. Of course he has – practically everyone on Base has.
But now, his fantasies are tinged with something feral. A primal need to show you that he is the best choice for you (even if he doesn’t believe it himself) – the only one strong enough and skilled enough to be yours and to make you his.
He’s fantasised about you looking up at him with doe eyes while he pins your wrists to the mattress, voice meek as you tell him, as if it’s a secret, that you’ve “Never done this before…”
He can’t live without it. The fact that he can – will – be your first time. Satisfy you in ways nobody else will ever be able to compete with.
He’d never admit it, but a dark part of him has plagued him with ideas of ravaging and corrupting you, about making your first time so pleasurable and carnal that nobody will ever be able to satisfy you as he can.
“Don’t worry, Sweetheart,” he tells you, taking your chin between his fingers. He lowers his lips to your ear. You don’t see the dark gleam in his eye. Don’t see the deliciously dark idea cross his mind – the impulse to fuck you so hard that you won’t be able to feel anything, nevermind pain. And he makes a promise to you anyway.
“I’ll take care of you.”
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König
“Thought as much.” König’s words are blunt yet sharp.
“Seeing as you have everyone wrapped around your finger, it’s clear you have no regard for the way you conduct yourself.”
You may construe König’s words as mean. Derogatory, even. He means it as a compliment. Even if you don’t know it yet.
“You think I don’t see the way you flaunt yourself in front of the soldiers – thinking that you’ll be able to get away with it without consequence.”
König’s frame towers over you. His gaze is ice, and any trace of the socially anxious soldier you knew is gone.
“I wonder how you like it.” he muses aloud. His voice is tinged with something unreadable. Venomous.
“How you’ll take it. Rough, gentle…” His eyes narrow.
“Mean.”
He’s boxed you in with his stature alone.
“Makes no difference to me,” he tells you. Deceptively calm. And then, an offer. One you can’t refuse.
“I’ll fuck you every which way until I find what makes you scream the loudest.”
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Soap
“Oh, really?” he says, eyebrow quirked and a hidden smile teasing his lips.
Johnny really couldn’t care less that you’ve never had sex before. But, the fact that you shared this information with him – albeit after he steered the conversation towards more…intimate topics – gave him hope that you were hinting towards something.
Something that Johnny’s wanted since he realised he was massively, whorishly down bad for you.
From his position opposite you, against the kitchen counter, he takes a step forward.
“I suppose you’re not very experienced then, are you?”
He advances until he’s in front of you. A wolf and a lamb. Close enough that you can smell his cologne.
His eyes are piercing, but there is a softness behind them. Something that writhes and wants and needs.
His hands come to rest upon the counter behind you. Nowhere for you to run. The heat from his body is scorching.
“Though, I’d be more than happy to…” His voice husks. “Beef up your résumé.”
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Valeria
Corruption kink to the MAX
Valeria is a territorial, dominant woman – that much is easy to see.
And the fact that you haven’t had anyone else before her just does something to her.
Alters her brain chemistry permanently.
There’s not one soldier, police officer or government official she doesn’t own in Las Almas.
So why shouldn’t she own you, too?
Now she’s thinking of every conceivable way she’s going to take ownership of you.
She thinks about it so often that she struggles to complete her paperwork without having to disperse the issue before she can continue.
But be warned: there will come a day when satisfying herself just won’t cut it. When she’s going to seek you out and ruin you.
“It might hurt at first, mi Amor,” she tells you, hand stroking your cheek, coming down to your jaw. “But trust me when I say that–”
Her hand grips your jaw. Tight. A viper’s strike. A fire burns in her eyes and the corners of her lips curl up in a cruel smile.
“I’ll make it hurt a whole lot more if you don’t do as I say.”
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Price
Given his age, Price has had his fair share of experiences.
But that doesn’t harden him to the simple fact that you haven’t.
In his eyes, there’s something endearing about how you’ve yet to give yourself to another person.
Another person that, he hopes, will someday be him.
The idea makes something in him stir. The fact that the difference between your age and his makes him that much more confident in his ability to please you in ways no mere boy can makes him anxious to act.
“Oh. Is that right, Love?” He says, eyes light and his smile dangerous.
“S’ppose you’re waiting for the right person.” His posture is inviting. Tempting. Belies the rush he’s feeling — the desire to have you at his mercy in the most carnal sense.
“Pretty little thing like you, you could have your fill of men.”
He’s angling for something. His face says it all.
He steps towards you. Again. Again. He’s in front of you.
His chest is almost to yours. His smile is shallow now. Strained. Like his pants.
“Probably looking for someone with experience.”
He thrives on the way your chest flutters. His does, too, but it’s masked beneath a  heavy stare.
“And trust me, Love,” his voice is low. A message for you and you alone as he brings his lips to your ear, breath hot against your skin.
“I’ve got plenty to spare.”
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Horangi
You don’t hear it for his mask, but Horangi lets out a shuttered breath.
“That’s why you’re always so quiet when sex talk comes up.”
He says it as a fact, but you take it as a question. You nod.
Horangi’s arms unfurl from his chest, come to rest at his sides. He’s looking at you.
Even through the layers of his mask, his gaze is heavy. Leaden.
He steps towards you. His frame, broad, fills your vision.
You can hear how heavy his breathing has become. How thick the air is.
How much he’s trying to restrain himself.
“How about a deal,” he proposes. Commands.
“You give me something to have a nice, long, hard think about,” his hips are to yours. You feel him pressing against you.
“And I’ll give you something to talk about.”
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Alejandro
“You surprise me, mi amor,” he says, natural as anything. As if he already knew.
“I’d have thought someone would have swooped in and claimed you by now.”
Truth be told, Alejandro wanted to be that somebody so badly that it made him ache in places he’d rather not think about. Especially when you’re already making containing himself incredibly difficult with that pouting, wide-eyed, innocent look.
God, you had no idea what you were doing to him.
“Or…are you saving yourself for someone specific?”
Before you, his frame is broad and imposing even without all his military gear on.
He takes your chin between his fingers. Tilts your head so your gaze can’t escape his. A shiver runs up his spine at the sound of your breath stuttering.
His words aren’t rhetorical. He’s pulled the answer from you – seen it in your eyes.
“Or are you just waiting for a man who knows how to take care of you?”
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Rodolfo
“O-oh!” Rudy chokes out. His cheeks are already giving way to a telltale pink. He tries to cover it.
“But– you’re so pretty and smart and kind – I thought you’d have a boyfriend by now!”
In some ways, Rudy’s a bit of a traditionalist: his mind still jumps to the idea that you’d typically only be intimate with someone you’re already in a relationship with.
Not that he’d judge you if this were not the case for you.
But he sees his chance. And he takes it.
“Well, if you’re not with anyone, then…would you like to go out sometime? With me?”
His eyes are wide and filled with hope – something you’d never have expected from a  man in such a brutal line of work.
Sex is the last thing on his mind right now: truly, he’s so taken in with the idea that you’re single and available that your sexual status means very little to him.
Though, that isn’t to say he hasn’t thought about you like that before, or that he hasn’t spent many a night with his face smothered with pillows as your name escapes from between his lips, panting, moaning.
That’s a little secret for you to uncover later in your relationship…
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Graves
“So you’re tellin’ me that no one’s had the privilege of fuckin’ that pretty little ass of yours?”
Graves sure has a way with words.
For all his slimy business practices, this is the one time he’s genuinely surprised. Unable to be slick.
He puts his game face on. Gives you a half-lidded stare and lowers his voice. His heart hammers: he conceals it behind a cool tone.
“Well, colour me impressed, Angel,” he says. A hand comes to the hem of your shirt, takes it between slow, intentional fingers. He has to resist the urge to look at your chest when he pulls the fabric taut.
“And here I was thinkin’ I already knew everything about you.”
He’s moving in before you can analyse his statement. Before you can begin to understand how badly this man has lusted after you – how deeply entrenched in your life he’s become. And all without you knowing.
He places a hand on the wall behind you. Presses himself closer to you.
“How much to let me be the first,” he drawls. Your eyes widen. His thin smile grows.
“And last.”
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Gaz
Bless his little cotton socks, he doesn’t know what to do with both this information and himself.
See, despite being incredibly intelligent, Gaz is still the youngest of the 141, so he’s not entirely accustomed to situations like this.
He can’t tell if you’re hinting, flirting, or just telling him something about yourself.
He remembers what Soap taught him, though.
Should a situation arise where someone is flirting with you, just use your intuition and don’t fuck it up.
Gaz leans against the doorframe, almost misses, scrambles to resume his ideal posture.
“Oh, so we’re more similar than you’d think, then.”
He can feel Soap banging his head against a wall. Jesus, Gaz – at least try to impress (Y/N) !
At your raised eyebrow and your playful “Oh?” Gaz coughs. His voice lowers.
“But…” he steps closer. “Maybe we can un-virgin each other.”
Long story short, Gaz has no idea what he’s talking about. But, somehow, his nervous disposition and pretty boy charm have enamoured you. And you may have told him you’d take him up on his offer 👀.
Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)
Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist
Yandere Masterlist Juicy Original Content <3
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deadsetobsessions · 4 months
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“I ate paint once,” Danny nonchalantly threw out in the middle of game night.
The entire table stopped. Heads whipped towards Danny.
“Yeah, me too. Cardamom yellow was my favorite. Ugly as hell but the chemicals just tasted right.” Tim replied, using the distraction to nab some of Bruce’s money. Monopoly money, that is. Everyone’s heads snapped towards Tim, only Cass and Danny (who was part of the scheme) caught him cheating.
“Really? I think mine was those spray can blue cosmos paint. But that might have been more my thing for space than the actual taste.”
“WHY WERE YOU EATING PAINT?!” Dick asked, looking like he wanted to lunge over the table and shake Danny until he puked out paint. Bruce looked like he was about to have a heart attack.
“Yeah, what the fuck, Tim?” Jason snickered.
“In my defense,” Danny grinned. “I was left unsupervised. Also, Steph, you owe me $24 in rent.”
“Ugh! I’m almost out of money! Can’t you loan me some, Alfred?”
“I am sorry, Miss Stephanie, you are not qualified for another loan. In fact, one of your properties is about to be confiscated as per the collateral agreement.”
“Noooo!” Stephanie made dramatic dying noises.
“What was your excuse, Timothy?” Damian asked, eyes glued to the board and determined to win the game.
“Hey, I was probably less supervised than Danny was.”
“Yeah,” Danny perked up. “My parents brought us down to their lab all of the time. Taught us a lot of stuff.”
“Really? Like what?” Duke asked, casually slapping away Tim’s sneaky hands.
“Oh, like what a rocket launcher sounded like up close! And how to build a laser gun! Oh! And what human organs looked like when they’re fresh!” Danny chirped, collecting his money from a stunned Stephanie’s hands. He looked up.
“Oh, don’t worry! I at least learned what not to do when it comes to lab safety. And we wore hazmat suits to protect ourselves from the radiation.” Danny smiled in a ditzy fashion as the table fell silent in a horrified manner. Cass tapped his arm amusedly, but allowed his bullshit to stand. After all, it’s not like he lied.
“Radiation?” Duck’s voice raised a couple of octaves. Oh yeah, Danny’s going to laugh about that pitch for a long while.
“Organs?!” Jason’s hands closed around the plastic house he was holding rather forcefully.
“Do you even know what basic lab safety practices are, Danny?” Damian demanded, finally looking up with brows furrowed. He rolled the dice and grabbed a mystery card. He gets $100 from Alfred.
“How old were you??” Duke asked.
“Like… 8, when they first brought me in?”
“Eight.” Bruce rumbled, slipping into a more Batman like persona. When Danny sent him a confused look, Bruce straightened back into his Bruce persona. “Wow, they must have trusted you a lot!”
“Sure?”
“What were their names again?” Stephanie asked sweetly, Cass nodding at him.
“Jack and Maddie Fenton.” Not that they’ll find them here, considering his parents are dead and in another universe.
���Cool, cool, cool!” Stephanie blinked, beaming as her hands formed lethal fists underneath the table.
Danny blinked and tilted his head in an unassuming way, pretending like he had no idea what Stephanie was thinking of. He sneakily handed over $600 to Cass in order to complete his monopoly on his side of the board.
Danny stood up and spread his hands out, one hand clutching his new found victory.
"Well, lady and gents, you've all been floundering against the inevitable tide of capitalism. I am here, as a reminder that you can never win against the hopelessness that will be your financial ruin! I, Danny Fenton, have obtained a quarter of the board and therefore have won against even your best efforts!" He cackled, holding up his fan of properties triumphantly. He shot a mischievous grin at Cass, who held up a solemn thumbs up in support for his monetary takeover.
"... Danny, are you... planning on a career in villainy?" Bruce asked, after a brief and total wave of shocked silence. Damian looked like he was having a conniption at having been bested, unknowingly. Yeah, Danny was disarming like that.
"Yeah, that was concerning." Tim piped up, nabbing a ten from a shell-shocked Damian.
"Hey! The Riddler gives surprisingly good monologues! And he's really loud, so it's hard not to pick up on things. Duke, your turn." Danny sat back down, pouting. The villainy comment was a little too close to his fears.
"Damn it." Duke, who had rolled, landed smack middle of Danny's territory. He handed over a sheaf of bills to a grinning Danny.
"Wait a minute! You have cheated!" Damian bolted upwards from his seat, finally done running through the purchases he remembered Danny making. "You acquired that property not within the games' rules!"
"Okay, first of all, the rule book is a suggestion, like lab safety rules," Danny saw the others open their mouths to protest, but he quickly shut it down. "Second, there's totally no rules about selling and buying places from a private owner so suck on it. And thirdly? Cass sold it to me, so you all can take it up with her."
"Diabolical!" Damian muttered indignantly.
"... Dammit." Dick sighed, falling back into the chair and balancing on its two legs. He couldn't say anything, considering his current of bankruptcy.
"Danny. Danny, I'll buy a property from you." Jason said, eyeing one of Danny's other properties near his own cluster.
"What do you have that would interest me?" Danny asked, falling back into his Vlad-like imitation.
"Ew, don't do that," Steph reached over to jab him in the arm.
"Yeah, Jason, what do you have?" Duke said, the lovely subtle instigator that he is.
"Red Hood's signature."
The others blue-screen, gaping at the actual audacity Jason had to offer up something that would take him no effort. Danny, prepared with a poker face that came with lying straight to Jazz's ever perceptive eyes about whether he nabbed the last of her ice cream or not, was prepared.
"Red Hood? The condom guy working out of the... um. Upper East Side?" Danny asked, pretending to hesitate. He knows where Jason operated. That doesn't mean he couldn't simply pretend otherwise. For science, of course.
...
...
...
The table howled with laughter, Jason's indignant spluttering unable to say anything against Danny's wide eyed look of innocence. Cass leaned against the table, chuckles falling out of her mouth and eyes crinkled in mirth. Dick had fallen out of his chair, helplessly wheezing on the floor. Duke is hiding his face in his hands, mirroring Bruce's pose as they both shake from silent laughter. Damian is smirking, wicked and sharp as he smugly stared at Jason. Stephanie and Tim are leaning against each other, repeating "the CONDOM GUY" in alternating and increasingly louder voices. Alfred had a smile on his face and a tight grip on the bills in front of him that betrayed his amusement.
"He's a crime lord!" Jason exclaimed, indignant.
"Uh, okay. Well, I mean, why would I want a crime lord's signature? I don't want to be on his radar. Or echolocation or whatever. He's... a Bat, right? That's what you guys call that group, yeah?"
"How do you know the Rogues better than the vigilantes?!" Jason glared at his unhelpful family. Those assholes better prepare for a load of rubber bullets the next time they're on patrol near Crime Alley.
"Hey, it's not my fault the vigilantes here are unsociable. Maybe if they monologued more, I'd know who they are."
"Wouldn't- wouldn't that make them more villain like?" Tim asked, stuttering from his laughter.
"I dunno?" Danny replied, enjoying his the family's unabashed joy. "I mean, they're pretty legit and they help people already so I guess they don't need to be sociable... but still I swear I haven't heard anything about Batman other than that he grunts and is mean towards criminals."
Is mean towards criminals, Duke mouthed at a recovering Dick who was in the process of heaving himself back up. It sent him careening back down to the floor with restrained giggles. Cass tapped Danny, reminding him to eat some food.
"Tt. Of course not. They're efficient at their jobs and have no need to be seen as welcoming to criminals." Damian puffed up.
"Yeah, but they've gotta feel safe, right?" Danny shrugged as he plucked a cookie from the cookie platter. "The... one with the sword, what was it?"
"Robin." Damian supplied, eyes narrowed and trained on him.
"Yeah, the baby bird. The kids think his swords are cool so they trust him. But like, the others? The flippy blue one? Not so much."
"Wait," Dick said from the floor. "They don't trust Nightwing?"
"Nah, they trust him to protect them, but he has a history of bringing the kids to the police, you know?"
"What's wrong with that?"
Danny shrugged. "ACAB. But also because everybody knows that half the guys in the GCPD and CPS are child traffickers."
"Wait, what?" Jason and Tim straightened.
Bruce piped in, the emotional whiplash of amusement to concern to amusement to concern visibly making itself known on the man's baffled face. "I thought Batman and Commissioner Gordon took care of that?"
"Sure, the obvious ones." Danny hesitated. Well, he's pretty sure they think he's a meta so... "There's... a meta trafficking ring that they're a part of. That's. That's kind of what I was running from."
Danny looked up pleadingly. Cass placed a hand on his arm in comfort, not knowing that he was fibbing about running from them.
Danny was on the streets helping his own Alley metas to run from them.
Danny is as feral as she was, and that meant he could hide just as much as she could read off of him. Cass was the best and he felt kind of bad about lying to her, successfully or not.
"Uh. Some people said you know Batman, Bruce. I know- uh, that might not be the case but if you do, could you ask him to look into it?" Danny made his eyes tear up. "And maybe he wouldn't care about me much, I mean, I know he doesn't really like metas but if he helps out, I could totally like, leave the city once the kids are safe, promise."
Ooh, Danny put a little too much sincerity into that. He could practically hear the hearts breaking in the game room as everyone glared at Bruce.
"You won't have to leave."
"... Promise?" And Danny's voice was a little too desperate, too hopeful, because Bruce's eyes tugged down in sadness.
"Promise." He rumbled, all Bruce Wayne and all Batman. Danny's core warmed. Danny also saw the rest of the family's faces darken in pure agreement. And partial wrath.
"Yeah! We'll kick Batman's ass if he even thought about kicking you out!" Stephanie proclaimed.
"He's far more proficient in combat than you are, Brown." Damian immediately leapt to Batman's defense and that was that.
Well, later, as Danny was "sleeping" and Phantom was hovering in the cave, invisible and intangible, he got confirmation that his Alley meta kids were going to be safe, soon.
After all, the entire Batclan was suiting up and baying for blood, with Oracle's all encompassing presence behind them, fingers reaching for their enemies' weak points.
6K notes · View notes
gojonanami · 17 days
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❝ 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃 !! ❞
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❝ WHEN YOUR CHILDHOOD BEST FRIEND OFFERS TO TEACH YOU HOW TO LOVE, HOW CAN YOU SAY NO ?? ❞
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✧ pairing: college student!yuji itadori x f!reader
✧ summary: yuji itadori has been your best friend since you were kids, and when he offers you to teach you how to fuck, you don't expect him to be able to find his way into your heart too.
✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, aged up characters (don't like? don't read), childhood best friends to fwb to lovers, college au! (no curses), reader is the same age as yuji (both 20s), grew up as neighbors, mutual pining, nobara playing cupid, jealous!yuji, yuji is so golden retriever bf, nightmares, mentions of parental death via car crash (yuji), adoptive dad nanamin :), nipple play, oral (f + m), fingering (f! receiving), handjob (m! receiving), semi public sex (under a blanket with sleeping friends nearby), sex (p in v), creampie, swearing, fanart by unknown artist (found on pinterest, pls let me know if you know the og artist so i can credit)
✧ wc: 13,544
✧ for my 2k celebration event: item 5 has been sold to two anons!
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“You want me to teach you?” 
The words left your best friend’s lips nonchalantly as if he was asking you if you wanted him to teach you how to ride a bike. 
But that’s not what he was offering to have you ride—
“Yuji,” you say slowly, “what are you saying? Do you even know what you’re saying?” 
Yuji Itadori was dense, but you knew he was far from stupid. You learned that in third grade when he punched a bully that had been picking on you, the final straw being when he had tripped you, causing you to skin your knee. Before you could even well any tears up in your eyes, you heard a thwack and a yelp as Yuji had laid the boy out on the playground. You stared at Yuji, as he offered you his other hand to help you to your feet, as your eyes slid from him to your bully. 
Yuji knelt down, carrying you on his back to the nurse’s office, “but Yuji, what about him? We left him—“ 
And he set you down outside the nurse’s office — and he only smiled that wide smile he had always reserved for you, “Don’t worry — I made sure no one was looking.” 
But now, you were beginning to doubt his sanity, rather than his intelligence — “I know what I’m saying,” he chuckles, trademark smile on his lips, “I’m just offering you the chance to practice,” 
“This isn’t practicing a sport or test—you’re offering,” you shift on your bed, while Yuji lounges on the floor, back against the bottom of your bed, “you’re offering to sleep with me, Yuji,” he leans his head on your bed, looking up at you at way, your face upside in his vision. 
“I know, I know, but it’s not a big deal is it?” he’s acting so nonchalant you wonder if one of his teammates had hit him hard in the head during practice, “we’ve had all our firsts together,” 
You scoff, “That was like our first steps, first day of school, first drink—“ 
“First kiss—“ he interrupts, and your face burns at the memory — a preadolescent game gone wrong that ended up with you and Yuji sharing your first kiss when you were teens. 
“That wasn’t real,” you wave him off, crossing your arms, “and this isn’t just a kiss for a game—this could change our friendship—“ 
“It won’t, if we don’t let it,” his gaze is more serious than you’ve ever seen Yuji be — not when he was usually all wide smiles and enthusiasm, “it’s us, we can get through it, and we don’t have to let it get weird right?” 
You chew on your lip, “Yuji, what do you get out of it?” And he’s tilting his head at your question— “I mean you don’t have to do this — just because I’m insecure because I don’t have experience,” you mumble. 
And that’s how the conversation had started — your complaints about your friends talking about their boyfriends, exes, and hookups, while you just nodded along — far too aware that you hadn’t even had a proper kiss, much less sex. And now you had found yourself here. 
“Look,” he slides up to sit on your bed, a good distance away from you, his eyes finding yours — warm hazel that felt as if it was drizzling over your skin wherever his gaze traveled, “I want your first time to be safe. I don’t want you to just hook up with someone and something bad to happen because you can’t say no — with me,” he clenched his hand into a fist holding his other hand flat as he gently hit his fist against it, “you can tell me to stop and if I somehow don’t or don’t hear you, punch me,” 
You snort, “Yuji,” he’s shaking his head. 
“I’m serious, I want you to be safe,” and you’re fidgeting with your fingers in your lap — this was Yuji, Yuji — you couldn’t say you hadn’t noticed how well he had grown up. Not when all of your friends drooled over him — especially with how liked he was — by everyone. 
“What if I lose you?” And he chuckles, as he breaches your personal space and his hand brushes yours. 
“You won’t, ever. I promise,” and your breath catches — many millions of times had Yuji touched you throughout your lives — an arm over over your shoulder, a hug, even holding your hand through crowds during festivals — but a simple brush of his fingers against yours had your heart rattling against its bony enclosure, begging for you to let it out, “what do ya think?” 
And you’re thinking — this would be the best outcome — you weren’t one to hook up with a stranger and you were burnt out on dead end dating app conversations, and to have your first time with someone close, someone you knew — it would be ideal. 
“Are you sure?” And his lips curl into a soft smile, leaning closer, as his fingers gently brush against your locks. 
“Would I be here like this if I wasn’t?” his breath warms your lips, as his fingers skim your cheek, “is this okay?” 
You nod wordlessly, unable to find the words to even reply — you had never thought of this situation would ever happen — especially like this. You lean against his hand, calloused from his practices, but as gentle as it always was. 
“We can take it as slow as you need,” he murmurs, as he’s even closer now, your eyes fluttering shut, only for his lips to graze your forehead. You pause at the featherlight touch — wondering if it actually happened when your eyes open to find his, “no need to rush, right?” He smiles, as he gets to his feet, “are we still on for tomorrow’s study session?” 
“Of course,” 
He scratches the back of his head, “Good because I still don’t understand math or why I need it, but unfortunately, I still have to pass,” he grabs his bag, “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he offers a smile before he’s gone. 
And you’re left sitting on your bed, the warmth of his touch still on your skin, wondering what the fuck just even happened. 
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“Yuji, you just have to solve for x,” you sigh, explaining the problem for the billionth time, as his pen waves back forth between two fingers, “it’s simple,” 
Your weekly study sessions with Yuji were a constant throughout your life, though more for Yuji than you. Yuji is very intelligent, despite his demeanor in class where it felt as if there was a perpetual question mark over his head — he just learned by seeing and then doing. And the repetition helped you all the same. But you had never felt so conscious sitting next to the boy you called your best friend. 
“Maybe to you, but I don’t why math has to involve letters,” he wrinkled his nose at the problem, sighing, as he twists the pen around his hand, and your eyes catch the movement — you didn’t know how the little boy’s whose hands you used to hold had gotten so big now — calloused from his practices, but so soft against your skin,  “is something interesting about my hands?” 
Your eyes snap up to meet his, cheeks burning as you shake your head, “No, just, uh, impressed that you can twist the pen around your hand like that,” 
“Oh, that?” he’s as unfazed as usual, leaning back a little, “that’s easy. I could show you if you want,” 
“It’s fine,” and you’re trying to focus back on the problem, when you find him still staring, “what is it?” 
“If you wanted to hold my hand, you just had to ask,” his fingers graze yours, with enough time for you to pull away, before his fingers lace with yours, “and we can do more if you want?” 
This was crazy — it was probably a mistake, but — as his touch made your heart flutter, warm rolling in waves that erupted into butterflies in your stomach — why weren’t you pulling away? 
“What does more entail?” and he inches a little closer, his breath warming your lips, “but you still haven’t gotten this problem down, are you just trying to get out of studying?” 
A chuckle on his lips, “Maybe I’m just looking for the right motivation, so how about we make a deal?” He moves over, spreading his legs apart, and pats the floor in front of you — for each question I get right, I get a kiss,”
And why you agreed to this, you really didn’t have words—but now you were sat between his legs, nearly in his lap, as he leaned forward — his chest against your back as his chin brushed your shoulder and his cheek brushed against your own, breath warming your neck — trying to get a better look at the math problem. His arm was wrapped around your side as his pen scratched against the scrap paper, trying to solve the problem. You bit your lip, trying your best not to glance at him, but you spot his wrinkled brow out of the corner of his lip and the tip of his tongue poking ever so slightly out of his mouth— and your lips curled, he still had that habit from when you were kids. 
“There, I think I solved it,” he murmurs, and you have to hold back a shiver at the words rumbled against your ear, “is it right?” 
And god, you could barely think, much less do math, but as you glance over the question and answer — he’s got it right.  
Fuck. 
“It is,” you say softly, “is all you need some motivation? Because I would have just promised I would go to see the next Human Earthworm movie,” 
He chuckles, his lips nearly against your ear, as his hand gently traces your jaw, “I’d like that, but I think i rather have what I was promised, as long as you’re still okay with that,” 
Your breath hitches, as you follow his lead, rough pads still so gentle against your cheek, as your eyes find his, but you don’t find his usual doe eyes — but instead find pools of lust threatening to drag you under. Although from the way your lips part and eyes flutter shut, perhaps he had you underwater for far longer than you even knew. 
His lips graze yours — it’s barely a kiss, a peck maybe — as he does his best to ease you in. You didn’t know lips could be so soft — meeting again and again, stealing logic from your mind and breath from your lungs. 
“Are you okay?” He’s murmuring, not even a breath away from your lips. You’re nearly dizzy, mind reeling from his touch, heart jumping at his thumb rubbing lightly against your cheek. 
“I am, just a little strange to be kissing, much less you,” and his brow knits together, “but not bad at all,” you add, and he chuckles, his fingers grazing your cheek firmer, as he leans in again, “we said one kiss—“ 
“Do you really want to stop now?” he’s murmuring, and your noses bump against each other. 
Your lips find his again and now you can taste the sour candy he had stolen from you, but an overwhelming sweetness overrides it, and your hand brushes against his cheek, the other finding purchase on his chest.
“Is that okay?” You murmur, as you lips part, the two of you catching your breath, your shared pants filling the silence, your cheeks burning as your eyes avert from his, “I don’t know—“ 
“You’re fine, don’t worry about it,” a small chuckle on his lips, fingers cupping your chin to guide your gaze back to his — a subtle heat that makes your insides turn to molasses, sticky and sweet and far too warm, “just do what feels right, ok?” 
And his lips find yours again, gently as he did the first time, but more passion behind it, swallowing your quiet murmur of his name with ease. Your lips move against his just as his did — you try to push aside the thoughts of whether you were doing this right. But the slight brush of his teeth against your bottom lip makes you forget too with a gasp. 
He pulls away with a grin on his lips, “Sorry, couldn’t resist,” and his lips are kissed red, your thumb brushed against his swollen lips, “don’t tempt me more,” 
“You’re the one who started this, shouldn’t you take some responsibility, Yu?” your lips graze his cheek, curling as a rosy flush settles over his cheekbones, “nothing to say?” 
“You’re making it hard for me to hold back,” and he’s burying his face in the side of your neck, making you shiver, as he pulls you even closer, arms around your waist, “I don’t want to rush you,” 
Cute, you think before you even think, and yet the way his face is hidden away in your neck, breath warming your neck makes your body flush, and when have you ever thought of Yuji as cute? And yet you couldn’t remember a time that he made your heart race either. 
His lips press a small kiss to your neck, drawing a yelp from your lips, “Yuji—“ he’s nosing the hollow of your throat, “ah, you’re teasing me,” you whine, and he’s lifting his gaze back to yours, heavy with want, a want that leaves you bereft of any semblance of sense. 
“You started it,” he murmurs, before he finds your lips in another kiss — this time it’s a slow heat, languid as it threatens to burn both of you alive, flames licking at the edges of your reason. And his phone goes off — a reminder for practice that he groans at, “I should go. I have to go run laps,” 
“Now?” And he’s slowly disentangling himself from you, the absence of his touch lingers, the heat ebbing, “don’t you usually practice in the mornings?” You get to your feet slowly as well, handing him his math notebook, and it occurs to you when you spot the puddles outside, “it was too wet,” 
And he nods, scratching the back of his head, as the two of you walk out into your apartment’s living space, “and I forgot my protein shake—“ you head over to the kitchen, opening the refrigerator door and pulling out his shake, and he blinks, “how—“ 
“You did the same thing last week, so I just bought a pack for you,” and his lips curl as he walks over and takes the bottle from your hand, fingers brushing — and even that much alight a flutter of nerves through your body. 
“Thanks,” he grins, and you nod. 
“Of course, I thought it just made sense since you come here every week—” you turn to shut the refrigerator, before turning back, only to find him stepping a bit closer, “Yu—“ 
“I almost forgot, one more lesson,” and he’s leaning close, and your breath catches in your throat, as his lips brush yours, fingers tracing the swell of your cheek, “a kiss goodbye,” and he parts, a brush of his fingers against yours, “I’ll text you later,” and he’s gone in a flash. 
Your left, fingertips touching your lips, a questioning lingering as he left — whether these feelings blooming in your chest were just from the kiss, or something more. 
But you glance at your phone — a text from Yuji: 
Golden Retriever Bestie: thanks for the drink again :)
You lock the screen — but you couldn’t hope for more, right? Not when this was started with the intention of stopping. But why—as you laid back into bed, staring up at your ceiling in the same room the two of you had spent the last two years watching movies or studying in, eyes squeezing shut—
Why did you still want more? 
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When did Yuji Itadori fall in love with you? It would probably be easier for him to list the moments he hadn’t fallen for you — but the earliest he can remember was when he had hurt himself climbing a tree in the schoolyard, falling from the branch he had made it to. You had been watching him the whole time, telling him to come down, and when he fell, you were at his side. His vision was a little blurry but when it cleared, he saw you knelt above him, big tears leaving your eyes. And when he came to, you hugged him tight, before helping him to the nurse’s. You had even insisted on bandaging his cuts, not letting the nurse do so. 
And that’s when he knew — he knew he always wanted to wake to you beside him. 
“You what?” Nobara scoffed at him, as she held up another of her new purchases in front of her while looking in her full length mirror, “so instead of asking her out and confession this pathetic crush—“ 
“Pathetic is kinda harsh, Kugisaki—“ 
“It’s been over a decade — your one sided feelings is now in secondary school — it’s officially pathetic,” she hangs up the new leather jacket she bought in her closet, before turning to Yuji, “so instead of confessing, you asked her to be your friends with benefits—“ 
“That’s not exactly—“ she cuts him off with a look, “ok that’s kind of what I did,” he shakes his head, “she was venting about how she never had her first kiss and words started coming out of my mouth and wouldn’t stop—“ 
“Not the first time that’s happened to you is it?” And Yuji glares at her through the mirror, “what? You came to me instead of Fushiguro because you wanted a pretty girl’s opinion right?” 
“I said girl, nothing about—“ it was her turn to glare at him, “alright, alright — what do I do now? I want to tell her I like her, but if I do, I might seem like a—“ 
“A creep? A weirdo? A pervert?” 
“I was gonna say liar, but those too,” he rubbed a hand down his face, “what do I do?” 
She sighs, tucking a strand of her dyed hair behind her ear, “the only thing to do in situation like this,” 
“Tell the truth?” And she scoffs. 
“No, of course not, just use this time to make her fall for you, but that means you’ll have to use this agreement to your advantage,” she hums, “she said she wanted more experience right?” And Yuji nods, “who says it has to just be making out and sex?” 
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“You want to go on a date? Fuck,” you mutter under your breath as you turn the heat of your burner down, hoping you hadn’t completely burned your omelet now as you flipped it, “I thought this was just supposed to be for the more…physical sides of things,” your cheeks burned. 
God, what the fuck. 
“I mean part of gaining experience is learning how to date, right?” And you’re placing your slightly burned omelet in the plate, as you wipe your hands off with your dishcloth, “we could go to an arcade, maybe catch a movie,” 
“Human Earthworm 4?” And you hear him chuckle over the line, and the sound makes your lips curl — it always felt like an accomplishment making him laugh, but even more so now.  
“We don’t have to—“ 
“I don’t mind,” you cut him off, and you never did — you just loved to tease him, as you always did, “they’ve grown on me,” and you didn’t know there was more room for Yuji to grow on you, you thought his roots had already went far and deep, tangled around every inch of yourself and your mind, even your heart — but now—
“Does 2 PM work? I’ll come by and pick you up from your place,” and you didn’t know where it would go but— 
“Sounds perfect,”  he had found his way into a place you never thought anyone would find themselves in. — and as he hung up, biting your bottom lip—
And it seemed he was here to stay. 
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“You’re such a cheater,” you glared at Yuji as he won for the tenth time at the boxing game — hitting the max score every time, “tell me what the trick is,” 
“You know I’m strong,” Yuji gapes,  holding his arm, “how would I cheat?” And you’re pouting, crossing your arms. 
“You’re cheating by being you,” and Yuji has to bite back his smile — you were being so cute — but he knows saying that will earn him a punch in the shoulder harder than you gave the punching bag on the machine, “now you have to buy me an ice cream,” 
“For?” He raises an eyebrow. 
“For being a cheater,” and he can’t help the chuckle that leaves his lips that earns him a bunch of slaps to his arm, before he’s wrapping that same arm around your waist, your complaints chased away by a gasp, “what—“ 
“I was going to buy you anything you wanted anyway, it is a date after all,” he smiles, and you stammer, but you don’t pull away, “what flavor do you want?” After you tell him, he goes off to the concession to buy you both some ice cream, and when he finds you at a table, he sees you’re not alone. His lips are a tight line, as he finds a guy leaning against the booth you sat in, clearly flirting with you, your back to Yuji so he can’t see your face. 
He finds his way back to you, his hand brushes your shoulder gently, “is everything okay?” He asks you, meeting your gaze without regard for the stranger — and he’s glad he did, because he spots your pursed lips and darting eyes that told him everything he needed to know, “you need something?” He asks the guy, a friendly smile on his lips. 
“Not from you,” the guy scoffs, “I was talking to—“ 
“Well, you’re talking to me now, not my date, so—“ and you’re leaning into Yuji, “you need something or not?” And the guy grumbles something under his breath before slinking away, and Yuji’s sliding in beside you when you move over, “you okay?” 
“Yeah, he wouldn’t leave,” you sigh, shaking your head, “sorry—“ 
“You have nothing to be sorry about,” he murmurs, as he hands you your ice cream, “as long as you’re okay,” his arm slides around your shoulder and squeezes you, “i would’ve punched him if it wouldn’t have ruined our date,” 
You snort, as you lick your ice cream, “if you punched him harder than you did the bag, don’t know if this date would have ended with us going home,” and he pouts, as he laps at his ice cream, and he feels you turn to look at him, “Didn’t know you were the jealous type, Yu,” and he chuckles, he wanted to say — only when it came to you. 
But he knew that he couldn’t. Not like this.  
“I didn’t think I was either.” 
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“Nope, not gonna admit it,” and Yuji’s grinning still, as the two of you walk out of the theater, his arm still around your shoulder, “no it wasn’t that good,” 
If there was one thing about Yuji is that movies were literally his obsession — one movie marathon when the two of you were teens had turned him into a fanatic. And he often ended up dragging you to all of them he saw in theaters — and you probably had watched the Human Earthworm movies the most amount of times anyone ever has — aside from Yuji. Well, more like you watched him watch it, because while he was smiling and laughing (or crying) at the movie, you were looking at him. 
And right now, he looked far too smug, “So you admit that it was good,” and you cross your arms, shaking your head, “I saw you tearing up at the end — I told you, it’s all about love!” 
You purse your lips, if only to hold back your smile, before sighing, “How would no one tear up at that ending?” And his hand’s grabbing yours, tugging at your arm, as the two of you walk along, “Yu—“ 
“I knew you liked it! C’mon, I knew you would, now what was your favorite part?” And your lips curl into a smile, “what?” 
That was one of the things you loved the most about Yuji, how excited he could get — how he loved everything so wholeheartedly with no reservations, and you knew he was the one person you could always count on to cheer you up. 
“Nothing, nothing,” you chuckle, letting your fingers lace with his, “my favorite part?” And you want to say — watching him enjoy the movie. 
But you can’t. 
“Probably the ending,” you slowly smile, “liked it when the credits rolled,” and he’s mock glaring, as you laugh before his arm tightening around your waist, “Yu-ji—“ 
“Not going to be honest?” He murmurs, before kissing your chin, “then maybe I’ll make you.” 
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“Yu—ngh, please,” Yuji could get addicted to your taste, it was never enough, was it? His lips had spent the last twenty minutes kissing every inch of your face and neck, traversing over every nook and cranny as he always wanted to — and yet it was never enough. Any time spent with you was never enough —because you always made anything better, and nothing ever worse. 
And he knew no one else would ever feel this good. 
How many times had he imagined just this scenario? Of you in his bedroom with him alone, as you had been many times before, but never like this. You never looked at him like that before — with that shyness mixed with an undercurrent of want. And it was enough to rip him away and drag him under with you. 
“Please what, baby?” Yuji looks up with a wry smile and soft eyes that burn a path where as it raked down your body like coals across a fire, “want me to stop?” And he’s dragging a thumb down your untouched lips. 
You cover your face with the back of your hand, and he’s gently tugging it away, pressing a kiss to your wrist, your pulse jumping underneath, “I want more,” and fuck if he wasn’t at full mast from the kissing, he was now at your words, “I want you to…kiss me and…touch me,” you mumble, eyes averted, but he’s smiling all the same — you were so cute. 
“Where can I touch?” he asks softly, his nose brushing yours, “need you to tell me. I don’t want to rush—“ 
And your lips crash against his, your fingers finding the back of his neck, threading in his pink locks. He’s pausing a moment before he melts into your kiss, and you’re taking the lead, as you lean further into the kiss, your fingers sliding down from his shoulder to his chest. His tongue flicks against the seam of your lips and you part for him. 
“I want you to touch me,” you murmur as you break the kiss, panting, strings of your spit still connecting your lips, your breathy words nearly enough for him to lose all control, “I’ll tell you if I don’t like it,” 
And he’s more than happy to oblige, his lips find yours in a bruising kiss, his hand toys with the hem of your shirt as permission, and you part from the kiss to nod. His hand slides up your soft flesh, pushing up your shirt along with it — finding your lacy bra underneath. He’s tugging the shirt up and over your head with your help, and god—
He has to stop himself from cumming right then and there at the sight of you. His fingers reach out, toying with the strap of your bra, “Did you wear this for me?” And you biting your bottom lip was all the answer he needed. 
“Yu—“ he’s tweaking your hardened bud through the fabric, “ah, fuck—“ and he leans down to suck the other side through your bra, while sliding down your bra strap. 
“Need to taste you,” and you’re nodding, while he’s reaching around to brush against the clasp of your bra to undo it, and his cock twitches at the sight of your bare skin — you’re so fucking pretty. 
He always thought you were pretty — when you were kids drenched from running around in the rain, when you were just waking up from a nap with your hair askew and dried drool in the corner of your mouth, when your eyes were wide with excitement and nearly jumping up and down to tell him good news; and when you’re smiling—especially when you’re smiling. 
It was his favorite thing. 
“Don’t stare so much,” you’re trying cover yourself, but his hands catch yours, easing them off, “It’s embarrassing—“ 
“You’re perfect,” and your lips part but no words come, but you can’t meet his gaze, “you are—“ 
“You’re just saying that—“ and his fingers pinch your nipple drawing a gasp from your lips, while he leans down and takes the other in his mouth. His eyes find yours, blown into deep, dark pools by his lust — ones you’d be more than willing to drown in. 
“I’d never just say that, especially to you, baby,” and you’re about to make a smart remark about him calling you ‘baby.’ But you forget every word you ever learned when his fingers start to drag down your stomach, fingers playing with the button of your jeans, “can I?” 
And you nod, your back arching ever so slightly as his lips press a sweet kiss to your bellybutton. He’s kissing down your soft legs as he tugs down your jeans — one to your thigh, another to your knee, and another to your ankle —before he’s kissing up the other. 
“How’s that feel?” he murmurs, eyes flitting up to meet yours, and fuck, your lips parted and swollen a pretty red, eyes half lidded with want, and — as his eyes fall between your thighs — a growing wet spot on your panties. 
His fingers toy with the elastic, snapping it lightly against your skin, a slight flinch only, as his eyes gaze at your clothed cunt with near reverence. He looks for permission, before he leans in to press a kiss to your swollen clit, a small yelp escaping your mouth. 
“Yuji,” you whine, lifting your head to meet his gaze again, “please,” 
“Say my name again, please,” he’s kissing your thigh gently, and it feels as if you’ll crumble under his touch any second, wither away in a figment of his imagination, and he won’t ever get the chance to hear you like this again, much less touch you. He was selfish to take advantage like this — and he knew he was — but he couldn’t leave it like this.
“Yuji, just touch me—“ and your head falls back as his fingers graze your clit through your nearly translucent underwear, “ngh, you fucker—“ and he’s chuckling, as he tugs your panties away. 
“Wanted to keep them on since you looked so good, but,” and he’s pocketing them with a grin, “I’ll just keep them instead,” your dripping walls twitch at the thought, “s’good for me. What do you want, my fingers or my tongue?” 
“Fuck, I don’t know, just touch—“ and your head lolls against the pillow as his tongue drags up flat up the length of your weeping pussy. 
“You’re so sweet — I could live here,” he murmurs, as his fingers spread your slick folds, a pretty moan falling from your lips as he does, “can’t wait to feel you cum around my fingers,” he’s easing a finger in — and you’re so tight, you’re tensing as he tries to part your walls, “relax, ok? I’ll be gentle. Don’t worry. I won’t ever hurt you,” his eyes meet yours and you’re nodding, as he pulls his finger away, a shiver at the empty ache, but it falls away into another moan as his tongue replaces it. 
The wet squelch of your folds is enough for him to cum right there — you smell as sweet as you taste, as he kisses your clit, before dragging the length of his tongue over your sopping slit again, “Yuji—fuck—“ your fingers find purchase in his pink locks right when he decides to sink a finger inside you again. 
“That’s it,” he grunts, as he works his finger knuckle deep into you, “so good f’me, so tight,” he’s murmuring, and your syrupy walls wrapped around his finger makes him wonder how good it will feel when his cock is inside you. He’s palming his erection through his pants, desperate for any kind of fucking friction, “g’nna add another,” 
And you’re nodding, “please, I—“ and a second finger joins the first, and the lewd noises grow louder from your slick and his fingers begin to pump faster — teasing and stretching your walls as they begin to flutter around you, “Yuji, Yuji—“ his name leaves your lips like a prayer, but he’s the one who would worship at your feet, if you’d let him, your moans and whimpers were all he needed to survive, and he’d give his very soul if it meant he could be at your side. 
His fingers are fucking you open, the tips of his fingers brushing against the spot that his your mouth falling open in a silent moan, “that’s it, cum for me, pretty girl,” and pleasure rips up your spine, as you cum all over his fingers, thighs shaking as you do. He fucks you slowly through your orgasm, helping you ride it out, until he’s slowing, leaning up to prsss sweet kisses to your face. 
“I’m going to pull them out slowly,” he murmurs, your eyes still fluttered shut, but they slowly open to watch him ease his fingers from you. Soft pants leave your lips as you watch him with lidded eyes lick his fingers sticky with your release clean. 
“Are you okay?” He’s murmuring, as he moves up to lean over your face, and you’re nodding, “let me clean you up and we can sleep, ok?” he’s moving to get off the bed, but you grab his hand, and he tilts his head. 
“What about you?” You mumble, frowning, eyes flickering to the tent in his pants with a shy gaze, “I want to—“ 
“It’s okay, let’s just take it easy today,” he’s smiling, fingers finding yours and squeezing, pressing his lips to your knuckles, “you look like you’re about to pass out,” and you’re pouting all the same, but you seem to relent as the exhaustion sets in once again at your words, “I’ll be right back,” and he retreats to his bathroom to wet a washcloth, only to come back to you fast asleep. 
He chuckles at the sight of you sprawled out on his bed — a sight not uncommon to him on nights you spent over, but never like this before. He leans on the bed carefully, mattress creaking ever so slightly under his weight, as he begins to clean you gently — and luckily, you don’t wake by the time he’s done. He can’t put your jeans or underwear on so he opts to grab a pair of his freshly washed shorts and slides them on you. He adjusts the blanket, draping it over you, running his fingers through your hair to tuck it behind your ear, and the back of his knuckles over your cheek. 
“Yuji,” you mumble in your sleep, and he bites his lip — as he returns to his bathroom, softly shutting the bedroom door and the bathroom door behind him, a glaring problem to deal with, as he is still nearly waddling at this point from the grazing of his boxers against his aching erection. 
He undoes his jeans quickly, eyes fluttering as he pushes both down and strips his shirt off before slipping into the shower. The squeak of the shower faucet and the water running hopefully don’t wake you — but more importantly, he hopes his moans don’t.  
His dick was rock hard and aching still — there were so many times he nearly came in his pants, and by how drenched his boxers were — maybe he had. But fuck, you were so gorgeous, laid back and spread out for him. 
His fingers grazed his weeping cock, smearing the precum up and down his length, thumb tracing his slit, as you would. He could see you thumbing his head experimentally, as your eyes flickered up at him, doe eyes, yet glazed over with lust. It wouldn’t be long until you’re slowly pumping him, as he does now — from base to tip, teasing his balls all the same. You’d flick your tongue over the tip, sucking at the dripping precum — wrinkle your nose at the salty taste, but you’d suck at his tip all the same. 
He’d look down at you as your hand switches to toying with his balls, as you let his cock slap against your tongue, before letting his length slip past your lips. Your lips would feel so much softer than his hand does right now, jerking himself off, your plush lips and tongue wrapped around his dick. A low groan escapes his lips, as he covers his mouth, hoping you couldn’t hear him over the running water. The squelch of his precum and his soft moans would only make him want to repay the favor, making you cum over and over, until you were begging him to stop. 
Fuck, he was close, by the way his cock twitched in his hand — where would he cum with you? He’d cum anywhere you wanted — but to cum on your face or chest, the image made him shudder. Your tongue would flick out to clean up some of the cum, and—
Fuck, he moans your name, as he cums all over his fingers, his release sprayed against the tile of his shower, dripping down and mixing with the water. He’s panting, as he cleans his hand off in the shower, leaning his head back. 
What has he gotten himself into? Was it right for him to do this? You didn’t know how he felt — and he didn’t know if you would ever feel the same. But as he got dressed and crawled into bed beside you, keeping his distance as you slept, he felt you move closer, mumbling his name as you did. He couldn’t help but softly smile, running his fingers through his hair—it didn’t matter if you never ended up loving him, as long as you knew what you deserved—to be with someone who loved you, as much or even more than he did. 
He let himself drift off, a loose arm thrown over your middle—he’d let himself have this, if only for now. 
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“Oh come on, you couldn’t get the ad free version, Fushiguro?” Nobara complains as yet another commercial comes on, as she glares at the black haired vet student, who sat on the floor after she stole his armchair. 
He only shrugs, bearing little to no reaction, “If you’re going to complain, then why don’t you pay for it?” 
Nobara and him begin to bicker ever so slightly, and Yuji chuckles in your ear, “are they more fun to watch then the show?” 
The four of you were at your apartment, watching a new season of a TV show you all had started last year. You were sat next to Yuji on the couch, your bodies nearly pressed against each other as you shared the blanket, a little cold from the rain outside. 
“They’re always more entertaining than the show, that’s why we agree to this,” you whisper back, the proximity of your bodies making your cheeks burn. You turn away, hoping he can’t feel or even hear the way your heart was beating down your ribs to burst free. Every time he shifted even slightly, you felt your body react — so conscious of even a twitch of his fingers — you wanted to bury yourself under the blanket. 
It had been like this since that night. 
You had woken up to him asleep beside you. Your eyes fluttered open as consciousness slowly crept into focus, sunlight filtering into sight, a small groan leaving your lips. And it wasn’t until you tried to reach for your phone you realized the thing beside you wasn’t a pillow but a person.  
Your eyes flew open and you found Yuji still sound asleep beside you. It wasn’t unusual for the two of you to sleep on the same bed — especially after a late night where one or the other didn’t want to go home — but it was different to wake up entangled with him, especially after the events of the night before came flooding back. 
And after that, each time you had been around him, you had become more and more conscious of his touch, nervous even, at the simplest of brushes of his fingers. And this? His body pressed against yours, his fingers grazing your thigh nearly, and his soft breath against your ear — god, you were going to lose it. 
“You ok?” he murmurs a half an hour later, and the question itself makes you squirm — because no, your hot best friend was pressed against you and making you want to do nothing more than kiss him— 
Wait, wait, hot? Your mind stutters at your own thoughts, lagging to comprehend yourself — hot? You wanted to kiss him? You always knew Yuji was hot, he was objectively — especially based on how many of your friends had wanted you to hook them up with him — but you had never thought of him that way. Maybe in passing — but to you, that was the one line you could never cross, especially when you had seen so many friendships fall apart because of a relationship. 
You never wanted to risk Yuji like that. 
But then here you were — blurring that line you said you never cross — and letting the ground split underneath the two of you. 
“I’m fine,” you mumble back — and yet here he was, seemingly unfazed by your proximity and as the minutes ticked by, it began to eat away at you. Did he not find it as meaningful as you did? Did he not feel as good as you? Do you need to touch him just to make him feel just as heartsick as you were? 
And now you know what you wanted to do. 
As the show went on, Nobara and Fushiguro fell asleep — Fushiguro asleep with a cushion he had stolen from Nobara’s armchair and Nobara curled up in said armchair, passed out. 
“Should we stop the show and go to bed?” Yuji asks you, albeit innocently — but there was anything but innocent intentions in your mind when you shake your head, a smile on your lips. 
“Let’s keep watching,” your fingers grazes his thigh, as you lean over, lips nearly brushing against his ear, “it’s just getting interesting, right?” 
And his breath hitches, “what’re you—“ and your fingers inches higher, grazing over his already tenting erection, a hiss escapes his lips, as he’s covering his mouth. 
“Shh, don’t wake them,” and your fingers are ghosting and teasing over his cock, the precum already starting to seep through the fabric, as he shifts under your touch. Your thumb flicks over his head, now fully hard, “so big already,” you mumble, and now your lips press sweet kisses to his neck, finding small cuts and bruises from his practices, and a gasp escaped his lips. 
“We shouldn’t be doing this—“ and your lips find his, and he melts so easily into your touch, your fingers toy with the elastic of his shorts, his eyes flickering to the two sleeping. He’s pulling away for a breath, lips utterly ruined — his fingers running through his hair, “please—“ and your lips curl. 
Your fingers finally brush against his leaking cock, and his head falls back, his cheeks flushed a pretty pink, lips parted as soft pants left his lips. And you’re nearly shivering yourself at his want — seeping into your own body, as his pants and moans send a wave of heat between your thighs. 
You rub your thighs together, as you shift even closer somehow, “Gotta be quiet Yu — they can hear us after all,” you murmur, right as your thumb swipes over his slit, a yelp caught in his throat, as his hand flies back to lips, “good boy,” and his dick twitches at the praise, as your finger begins to trace along his veins, “so big, how am I going to fit you inside?” you murmur, biting back a smirk when a muffled groan reaches your ears. 
Your fingers finally curl around his length, you never thought a cock to be pretty — but Yuji’s was. You stared at it under the covers, flushed a lovely red, too dripping pearly beads of precum, and the slight curve it had to it — made the ache in your cunt only grow. 
“Please, baby, I need, please—“ he’s whining, “I need you—“ 
And you oblige him, your hand beginning to spread the pre along his length, beginning to stroke him slowly from base to tip. He’s biting his lip, hard, nearly drawing blood as he chooses to bury his face in the crook of your neck, if only to muffle any moans that fell from his lips. 
“S’good for me, Yu, wanna make you feel as good as I did,” his moan vibrates against your skin, cock twitching in your fingers, “gonna move faster, don’t want our friends to see you like this, do you? You have to be quiet,” and god, why did only seem to get harder at your words? 
Your fingers begin to jerk him off in earnest, the wet squelch of his cock nearly not hidden enough by the volume of the TV, but nearly don’t care at this point — you just want him to fall apart under your touch, need him to. 
And oh, he’s so close. His groans are more frequent, his hips jerking against your fist, and when your other hand finds his balls, squeezing — it’s too much. 
He moans softly, “I’m—“ and that’s all he manages before he spills on your fingers — warm, white spurts splatter against your palm and the blanket, dripping, as he falls back, limp against the sofa. His cock softened in your hand, as you pull it away, before gently wiping him clean with the already drenched blanket. 
He’s panting and fucked out, eyes half lidded as his chest rises and falls, watching you lick your fingers clear of his release, gaze never leaving his. 
“Didn’t know you’d taste this good—“ you barely can manage, before he’s leaning forward to kiss you. Your fingers slide against his cheek to cup it, feeling his hand tangle itself in your hair, “Yuji—“ 
“What was that about?” he murmurs, “not that I’m complaining but—“ but then Megumi starts to move and you both freeze, your breath catching, until Megumi seemingly falls back asleep, “we should head to bed, but—“ 
He looks at the blanket, and the mess you made of him and the couch alike. 
“The blanket I’ll toss in the washer, the cushion I’ll clean up and just turn over—“ and you smile, “and you take a shower before bed,” 
His brow still knits together, “but we haven’t—“ 
“We’ll talk later,” and when later came, Yuji found you fast asleep in bed, with more questions than answers. But he supposed, as he tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his answers could come later. 
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How long has it been? 
You stared at your phone — as if you could will it to receive the message you’ve been waiting for. As if it would grant your one and only wish for a text or a call — but it didn’t. Instead, it only gave you a spam call and a text to let you know you had a discount code for your favorite takeout place. 
Great. 
It had been a week since you had heard from Yuji — and a week since that night. You had woken up to the other three gone — gone off to their own apartments after you had slept in and texts on your phone from them in the groupchat. It was a few days before break — before you and Yuji would be heading back home for a few days together. But you hadn’t seen him at all since — not a chance to talk, much less seeing him. 
Was he upset? Was he done with this? Was his promise to stay empty in the end? Was it your fault — for pushing it, for agreeing to it, and for falling for it all the same? Falling for it or — your eyes trace the screen of your phone as if it’s his cheek — or falling for him. 
No, you rake your fingers through your hair, no, you didn’t love him — not like that. Not the way you shouldn’t, the way you had sworn yourself never to — but maybe all promises between friends were empty, when they were made like this. 
But you weren’t made to let this break apart. 
You found yourself at his door after classes, knocking at his door of his apartment. The door opens, and you find Yuji rubbing his eyes, hair askew, and shoulders drooped. 
“Hey,” he yawned, he’s still shaking off the shackles of sleep, “sorry, what’s up?” 
“Are you okay?” Your furrow your brow, your eyes spot the dark bags under his eyes, large enough to nearly engulf his eyes all together, “you look like you haven’t slept in days,” he steps aside to let you in, you glance around, his apartment wasn’t usually the cleanest — but it wasn’t a wreck like it was now. Clothes scattered, unwashed dishes stacked up, and papers strewn about. 
“I just haven’t…been sleeping—“ and then you remember. 
It wasn’t about you. It was about him. And you were so wrapped up in yourself, you weren’t thinking about him. 
“Yuji, you’re having those nightmares again, aren’t you?” You murmur softly, and the way his gaze falls to the ground tells you everything you need to know, “alright, go lay down,” 
“What?” he’s blinking, but your hand already finds his as you take him to his bedroom, “what are you—“ 
“You lay down. I’m going to make you dinner, and then you’re going to sleep,” and he sits on the bed reluctantly, fingers against his knees, as he bit his lip. 
“I can’t sleep, I told you—“ you cup his cheek, and guide his gaze to yours. 
“Remember what we’d do when you couldn’t sleep after the accident?” 
“This feels ridiculous,” Yuji murmurs into your chest, his head buried there, while your fingers run softly through his pink locks, “we’re not six anymore—“ 
“So what? Doesn’t mean we can’t do this still,” you say, as your fingers pause, “unless you don’t want me to,” 
“I didn’t say that,” he mumbles, and you can hear the blush in his voice that undoubtedly painted his cheeks, “I just meant it feels like I’m bothering—“ 
“Yu, don’t make me pinch you,” you murmur, rubbing his head, “you’re never a bother,” you kiss his head softly without thinking, and soon your cheeks are burning too, “sorry I didn’t—“ 
“Why are you sorry?” He chuckles, “we’ve done a lot more than kiss recently,” and he adds, “especially you,” 
You bite your lip, glad he couldn’t see your face like this, “I thought that’s why you weren’t talking to me, I thought you didn’t like what I did…on the couch, you know—“ 
“I know,” he chuckles this time, “and how could I not like that?” And you swallow the lump in your throat, as the two of you fall into a comfortable silence that you choose to breach. 
“You haven’t had these nightmares in a while,” you murmur quietly, before you add, “we don’t have to talk—“ 
“I know, but it happens from time to time, especially this month,” and your brow furrows, “don’t wrinkle your forehead at me,” and you lean back to gape at him, a smile pulling at his lips, “you always do that when you find out I’m keeping something from you,” 
He moves ever so slightly away, turning to look at the ceiling, “Well I think I have a right because this is a pretty big thing to keep from me, Yu,” you pout, and your fingers begin to absentmindedly trace his jaw, his eyes fluttering shut — you always treated him so gently, like that something that could shatter, but he knew you would always be there to put him back together. Because you did that once already. Over a decade ago, “why didn’t you tell me?” 
Because he didn’t want to worry you. Because he didn’t want you to think of him still as that broken kid you watched after when he had his world fall apart. 
Because he didn’t want you to take that burden — he wanted to handle it himself. 
“I didn’t want to bother you—“ 
“It’s never a bother when it’s you,” and his voice catches in his throat — fuck, how did you always know just what to say? 
He takes a breath, “it’s just the same dream. Of the crash,” he could see something so clearly that he never experienced. He was at home with you when the crash happened — a play date Yuji had insisted on when he had cried and begged his parents to stay with you instead of going to dinner with them. They had relented — and that was the thing that left him alone. 
It was lucky that his grandfather was able to take him in, and stay close by — so he still got to go to school with you. 
“Let’s try to sleep, ok?” You murmur, “you’ll feel better when you sleep,” you cup his cheek, and he’s biting his lip, “what is it?” 
“What if I see it again?” He whispers, as if he’s afraid that his words were any louder he would speak it into existence. 
“Come here,” you say softly, your fingers gently guide his head to face you,  “I’ll keep you safe, I promise,” A sigh leaves his lips as he moves closer, letting you engulf him in your arms, his eyes shutting, and letting himself relax for a moment — the first moment in far too many days. 
When he let himself slip into sleep’s embrace—it was the first night he didn’t dream of the crash — he dreamt of you.  
And when he woke in your arms in the morning, your soft lips parted as you slept, sunlight dappled on your skin through his window, and the way your fingers held onto the fabric of his shirt — he knew, he knew he had to tell you how he felt. 
He needed to end this — his fingers brushing a strand of hair behind your ear — if only to begin something new. 
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You had to end it — it hadn’t sunk in until the car drove back home. The quiet morning drive left you both in a comfortable silence, the quiet white noise of his playlist, along with Yuji’s terrible singalongs and your bickering over his music choice. And you found yourself more than once staring at him as he drove, to the point where he had caught you looking. 
“What?” He tilts his head when the light turned red, fingers drumming on the steering, the other poking your side. 
“Nothing,” and you’re playfully slapping his hand away, a smile on your lips — same smile you always had with him. Always—because he’s your best friend. But he was so much more than that. 
You were in love. 
The two of you had returned to the place where you had laid your roots to rest and let your seed scatter to the wind. Only to return as a different flower altogether — but you knew, you couldn’t let it go on. 
It had become painfully clear that morning, you had woken first, the sun had not peaked over the horizon yet, and you found Yuji fast asleep — breaths even and face relaxed. You knew his parents had scarred him deeply — he spoke of them often, but not at all at — he mentioned their presence, but never his own feelings. You knew he had a habit of putting others above himself — but you had missed this — all of this week, you could have been there for him, but you were caught up in your own thoughts and you had made it all about yourself. 
And he deserved more than that. 
He deserved more than you. 
And you couldn’t risk losing him — lose him in a stupid argument or a disagreement and then never be able to comfort him again? Never be able to be by his side? You couldn’t bear to even fathom that. 
“Nanamin was asking about you,” Yuji says as the two of you walk home from the local convenience store — a late night run that produced a familiar bag of treats the two of you always shared when you came back home. 
“Oh really? Are classes over for high school already?” The English literature teacher had taken Yuji in for his last year and half of high school after his grandfather passed, and Yuji always stayed with him on breaks. 
“He asked if you were going to come with us to see my parents tomorrow morning,” it was a tradition to go visit Yuji’s parents graves each year around this time — you always paid your respects whenever you could, “he also said you’re free to stay over, but you have to sleep in a different bedroom,” you snort, “he said and I quote ‘we are past the age of sharing a room,’” You laugh, cheeks burning as you shake your head, “he’s not exactly wrong though,” his fingers graze yours, and there’s nothing more you want than to take his hand, but you know one way or another, you’d drop it in the end. Wouldn’t it be better now? When there isn’t far to fall? 
So you do, letting your hand fall away from his. 
“I’d be happy to see your parents, but I don’t know if staying over is a good idea—“ and he’s shaking his head with a chuckle in his throat. 
“Don’t worry, I won’t do anything you don’t want to—“ 
“We should stop, Yuji,” and his smile slips off his face as if it was slapped off, he blinks, shock settling into confusion. 
“Why?” Only one word and it manages to break you all the same. 
“We just shouldn’t. This was supposed to be about teaching me, but i think I’ve learned enough,” you’re turning away, but his fingers are gently finding your wrist, “Yuji—“ 
“You don’t think I can’t tell when you’re lying?” Yuji asks, and your glass-like facade shatters so easily — why does it always have to break so readily when it comes to him? 
But you pull away all the same, “I can’t do this anymore. Not like this. I don’t want to. I can’t lose you—“ 
“You won’t lose me—“ but you’re already walking off, sparing a glance back. 
“I’ll see you tomorrow morning when we leave, Yuji,” and he’s opening his mouth to call out, but he stops himself, watching you disappear up the street. 
What just happened? 
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The car ride to the cemetery is notably silent. Yuji’s eyes burned when he woke, head aching from the circles he ran around in last night, trying to figure out what happened. Nanami drives in the quiet, his eyes noting when Yuji chooses to sit passenger instead of beside you, only with one glance that’s averted after Yuji refuses to meet it. 
Yuji didn’t know what to make of what you said. After everything, he thought maybe — just maybe, you felt the same as he did. He thought he could tell you tomorrow, tell you when the two of you were alone — and even if it didn’t work out, it would be okay. 
But now — as his eyes stole a look at you in the rear view mirror, he wondered if it ever would be okay again. 
You left the car a moment to go use the bathroom when they stopped to fill gas in the car, and that’s when Nanami speaks. 
“So did you finally ask her out and she said no?” And Yuji’s head snaps to his, but Nanami only stares back, “you aren’t hard to read, Itadori. You’ve liked her for a long time,” 
Yuji scratches the back of his head, “I did something, kinda stupid,” and Nanami tilts his head, “really stupid, ok? And I was going to tell her how I felt, but she broke off what we were doing—“ 
“You weren’t dating?” Yuji’s cheeks burn as he waves off his teacher. 
“That’s not important! But what do I do, Nanamin?” the blond haired teacher raised an eyebrow. 
“It’s not hard to know what to do, Itadori. It’s what you should have done. Tell her how you feel,” and then you’re walking back to the car, “come on, let’s get back. We’re close now.” 
And your gaze avoids his own when Yuji watches you get back in the car, and his lips part as if to stop you — but he doesn’t. 
Not yet. 
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You stood with Yuji as he tended to his parents’ graves. Simple stones that he was able to put in with time from his part time jobs, ones he had insisted he would pay for himself — refusing any help from anyone, even you. You knelt down, helping him clear the strewn dead leaves, brushing away dirt and snow — your fingers brushing when you both reach for the same place. 
And your eyes meet, as both of your fingers intertwine slowly — the three of you pay your respects, and Nanami finally stands. 
“I’ll wait for you two at the car,” Nanami says with a nod, leaving the two of you alone. You both already had placed offerings at their graves, arranging them slowly, as the two of you stand, the silence of the cemetery hanging overhead — light streaming in between clouds in the overcast sky, the sounds of the wind rustling the trees the only thing in the quiet. 
“Thank you for coming,” Yuji says softly, and your blink, eyes sliding to his. 
“You never have to thank me for that, Yuji,” you squeeze his hand, “as long as you want me to come, I’ll always be here. And I’ll always pay my respects to your parents, regardless of that,” you say, and that's exactly why you had to stop with him. You couldn’t bear to lose him — lose this, not when he’s lost too much and he was too much for you to lose, “come on, we should get back to the car,” as you pull your hand away from his. 
And maybe things could get back to normal. 
“I know,” and he doesn’t move as you turn to leave, “and that’s why I love you,” 
And you smile, “I love you too—“ 
“I don’t mean it like that,” and you freeze a moment, his words barely processing before he continues to speak, “I mean I do love you in that way too — but that’s not how I meant it now,” he says, as you turn to face him — not finding a hint of humor on his expression. 
“Yuji—“ your brain can barely process your best friend confessing to you — much less next to his parents’ graves— “should we be having this conversation—“ 
“It’s the perfect place to have this conversation,” he glances around at all of the graves, and he’s shaking his head, “maybe not the perfect place, but—“ his gaze softens when he finds yours, “you saved me,” 
“Yuji—“ 
“No, you did. After my parents died,” he stares at the stones side by side — “I could barely function. I barely wanted to do anything but sleep — but you, you pulled me out of bed. You made me go places. You made me smile again,” he says, “but that’s not the reason I fell in love with you,” his lips curl into a soft smile, “it’s because it’s you — your smile, your laugh, your being — it reminded me of happiness existed, and then I realized you were the only person who could make me happy the way you do,” 
“Yuji—“ 
“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same. But I don’t want to lose you, lose this chance to tell you how I feel, to tell you—“ 
“Yuji—“ 
“And I’ve always loved you — there’s never been—“ and you’re hugging him, before you even know you are, your arms are around his middle, face buried in his chest, as he murmurs your name. 
“The only reason I broke it off was,” your voice wavers despite your efforts to force it to stay even, “I didn’t to lose you by not being good enough—“ 
“You just have to be you,” his brow furrowed into the same valleys he teased you for, “you’re all I need,” his hand finds your cheek, guiding your gaze to his, “how could you think you weren’t enough?”
“You don’t tell how you feel sometimes — you don’t tell me what you’re thinking, I didn’t even know you had nightmares—“ you break off, “what if we continued this and you realized you deserved better than me? And it was already too late for me because I love—“ you break off. 
“You what?” he asks, and you’re biting your lip, “I’ll say it again if it will make you—“ 
Fuck it. 
You lean up and press your lips to his, swallowing his words as your hand finds purchase on his shoulder. And it felt right. As it always did with Yuji. 
“I love you too,” you whisper against his lips, “I love you, in the same way you do,” 
“As a friend?” And your brow furrows, “kidding! Kidding—ow!” You’re smacking him playfully, before he catches both of your wrists and pulls you close, “does that mean I can call you mine?” 
“Or baby,” and he flushes, a cute pout on his lips, “what? Isn’t it—“ and he’s kissing you again, your heart leaping as he does, his hands sliding around your hips, “Yu-“ 
“And what’s my pet name? You still haven’t given me one—“ 
“Have some decorum,” a voice cuts through, and the two of you jump apart, as Nanami stands, glaring at the two of you, “come on, if you’re done paying your respects, then we should go home,” he sighs, rubbing his temples, “the dead shouldn’t have to put up with this.” 
Yuji’s cheeks are tomato red at this point — as he covers his face— but you only chuckle, your fingers intertwining with his, squeezing, “c’mon let’s go, and maybe I can give you a pet name when we get home,” and you both turn to face his parents, as you pay your respects and head down the path a little. 
Yuji faces his parents, kneeling down to say goodbye again — and he remembers how it was their idea to set up Yuji to have a playdate with you, all those years ago. And now, here you were — the most important person in his life. 
“Thank you for everything you did for me,” and he glances at you over his shoulder as he gets up, “especially for helping me find her.” 
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“Yu-ji—“ you gasp, as he’s tugging you into your bedroom, bumping himself carelessly into the wall as he guides you both to your bedroom. You giggle as he presses you against the wall outside your room, “I text you my parents are going out for dinner and this is how you greet me? What happened to hello—“ 
His lips crash against yours and you forget about ‘hello’ and just about every other word in your head. Your lips curl against his lips, as his body cages you against the wall. It had been a few days since you and Yuji had been able to have a moment alone—Nanami was watching you both cautiously, while your parents had been keeping you busy at home, seeing family or cleaning up around the house. And Yuji was growing increasingly desperate for some time with you — that wasn’t hidden brushes of fingers under the table or stolen kisses out of sight from family or friends. 
“I missed you so much, baby,” he’s murmuring — and you didn’t know it was so possible to look like a kicked puppy so much until you met Yuji, “can’t believe Nanami was so mean and kept making us keep the door open—“ 
“It didn’t help that he walked in us making out on your bed three times—“ and a moan escapes your lips as he kisses your neck, teeth grazing against your racing pulse, “fuck, Yu—“ 
“How do you always taste so good?” he mumbles against you as he leads you inside your bedroom and shuts the door. His eyes glance around your childhood room, as he takes in the childhood posters plastered on the walls, the untouched books, the stuffed animals from a millennium ago that still lined your bed. 
“My family has not changed much here for years,” your cheeks burn, as he only chuckles, walking you backwards into your bed, and you climb into the bed, only grabbing a stuffed animal from behind you, “remember this?” 
He snorts, as he takes the stuffed penguin from your hands, “How could I forget? I tried a million times to win this,” 
You tilt your head, “You said you won it your first try—“ and you gasp as he looks away, cheeks flushed, “you were trying to impress me,” 
“Not that much,” and you’re leaning closer, brushing your lips against his, “maybe just a little,” you kiss him more insistently this time, sliding against his, fingers curling in his soft strands, “maybe too much,” and you smirk, noses bumping as your lips find each other’s again and again. 
And your fingers slide down to drag his shirt up and over, freeing his chest and abs to your sight — and what a sight it is. So toned and tanned from his American football practices in the sun — perfect for your fingers and lips to explore the peaks and valleys of his body, hands already far too eager.
He returns the favor by lifting your own shirt off in an instant, groaning when he finds you wearing nothing underneath — your eyes can’t help but flit down and find his erection already tenting in his sweatpants. 
“Fuck, baby, you’re so perfect,” his eager hands are already teasing and palming you breasts, a whimper drawn out by his precise pinches and touches, “so good for me,” and your hands drag down his chest, leaning down to press kisses to his chest as your fingers trace along his abs, making him groan. 
He’s pouting, after he pulls you into another kiss, “it’s not fair,” he mumbles into the side of your neck, “I feel like I’m always the one who’s more nervous than you are,” 
You chuckle, kissing his jaw, “I felt the same way, why do you think I touched you on our TV marathon that night?” 
And he’s blinking, as you lay back on the bed for him, “you didn’t know—“ you shake your head. 
“You had offered to help get experience, and even when we had done things, you were just so…normal,” he chuckles, before laying beside you. 
“I had some practice acting normal around you, but I really didn’t. I think you nearly gave me a heart attack that night,” and you grin, drawing so close that you even feel the hitch of his breath. 
“That good, huh?” You tease, and it only takes a moment until he’s hovering over you, lust pooled in his gaze that lights a fire on your body wherever it lays. 
And his lips meet yours right after he whispers, “I’ll show you good.” 
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“One more, baby,” Yuji tells you, but you barely hear it through the haze of pleasure and heat that fills the room, along with the sounds of the squelch of his fingers in your tight cunt, “just need one more,” 
And how many times had he made you orgasm already? You’d lost count — five or six at least. The first had taken some time, working his finger into your weeping slit, the way your walls stretch around him make you wonder how good it will feel when he fucks you. It’s not long before he’s sinking another finger in, the sounds and feelings of his digits curling is enough to bring you to orgasm. And the rest are a blur — another finger in your tight entrance, fucking you open as he toyed with your walls, until you came again and again. 
And now he bent down, lips around your clit, teasing and sucking at the sensitive bud, as your fingers curled in his pink locks as the lewd moans fell from your mouth with ease. You’re so close — so fucking close, and when his fingertips brush against that spot and it’s all too much. 
You cum around his fingers and mouth, his name on your lips as you do, back arching against him, as he eases his fingers from your cunt. He licks his fingers clean as your eyes flutter open to meet his, “You taste so good, baby — you’re perfect,” and you watch as his tongue flicks out to clean his lips and chin of your sticky release. 
And soon enough he’s kissing you, hand cupping your cheek, letting you taste yourself on his lips, as your fingers drag over his bare chest and follow his happy trail into the elastic of his boxers. A soft moan leaves his kiss ruined lips, as his eyes are lidded with lust, soft pants against your skin. 
“Is this a dream?” Yuji murmurs, his lips ghosting along your jaw, “never thought we would get here,” and you turn your head to meet his lips in another sweet kiss. 
“It isn’t, we’re here. Took us long enough,” your lips curl, your fingers tracing over his cheek, “and nowhere else I rather be — or no one else I rather be with,” 
“You sure?” And you’ve flipped him over, kissing down his body, fingers tugging at the elastic of his boxers until his dick is freed from the fabric, “fuck, baby, you don’t have—“ 
And his words are cut off with a grunt as your fingers grazes his erection, teasing his weeping head. You start to pump up and down, working the thick beads of precum over his length, his head falling back. 
“How’s your cock so pretty, Yu?” you coo, blowing air over his dick, making him twitch in your hand, “never thought one of these would ever be so pretty,” you let his length slap against your tongue, slowly dragging it down your 
He hisses, hands grasping at the sheets, as you bend down to flick his tongue against the head of his cock. Your lips close around it, and suck, raising the back of his hand to cover his mouth, “fuck, s’good, baby, I—“ 
And you’re letting his cock sink past your lips, your tongue flicking against his slit. Your eyes find his own, as you hollow out your cheeks and sucking hard, and his hips buck into your mouth. His tip brushes against your throat, and you’re moaning around him, your fingers cup his balls, nails digging into your scalp. 
“Baby, fuck, I’m close—where—“ and he’s trying to ease you off, but your hands only hold his hips in place. Your nose brushing against his pubes. And when you’re suck hard on his tip, toying with his sack, only for him to moan your name, before cumming down your throat, his hot release painting your insides. 
You’re slowly pulling off his dick, a string of cum and spit connecting your lips to his cock, a smile on your face. You swallow his release, the salty taste still on your lips as you watch him pant, chest rising and falling. 
“Taste so good, Yu,” you murmur, and you’re moving back up to kiss him, “think I’m addicted,” you murmur, as your lips find each other again and again. 
“Now you know how I feel,” he smiles, fingers running through your hair, “been addicted to you for over a decade,” and he’s sitting up, guiding you into his lap slowly, “we can always stop right here, we don’t have—“ 
You kiss him softly, the way he deserved, the way you’ve wanted to for so long, “I want to, Yuji, I really want to,” your fingers intertwine with his, squeezing his hand, his arm slipping around your waist, “because I love you,” 
And your fingers grasp his hardening cock, pressing it to your dripping slit, and god, he’s so fucking big. You knew how big he was, but just feeling him pressed against you makes you ache at how he’ll be stretching you out. He drags his dripping tip against your slit, letting your cum mix together, letting his head catch on your clit. 
Finally, you’re sinking onto him, his thick length parting your walls, inch by inch. Your head falls back, as he leans into your touch, watching you flinch at the stretch, “you okay?” Yuji’s pressing sweet kisses to your lips and cheek, “should I stop—“ 
“No, no, I’m fine, it’s starting to feel good,” your arms wrapping around his neck, burying your face in the crook of his neck, “ and he’s helping you sink into him, until finally your hips are flush to his, “fuck, Yu—you’re so deep—“ his cock twitches against your walls, a shiver up his spine at your words. 
And he’s panting, his lips pressed to your shoulder, “you feel s’good, baby — so wet and warm—“ you smile, cupping his cheek, “can’t believe this is real — can’t believe—“ 
“It’s real, Yuji, it’s real,” your lips curl into a smile, “I’m here, I love you,” 
“I love you too, I love you so much,” he kisses you again and again, as he shifts slowly under you, swallowing a gasp that leaves your lips. 
“Please, Yuji, move—“ and he obliges, beginning to fuck into you, and your head falls back, as his cock rocks into you, a moan falling from your lips as you do. He’s groaning your name again and again, a grunt when you begin to ride him in tandem, both of your thrusts sending him deeper into you. 
“Baby, fuck, you’re perfect. You’re so good f’me,” his lips finding your neck, as his strokes become faster and deeper, the sounds of your skin slapping together rings in your ears as he fucks you harder and harder, “g’nna cum, s’close,“ 
“I’m close too,” you’re panting as his lips find yours in a sloppy, messy kiss that has you losing yourself more and more, as his thrusts become more and more swallow. And when he finds your clit between your bodies, rubbing as he finds that one spot that has you seeing stars, “Yuji- I’m—“ 
And you cum hard around him, soaking his cock and thighs as you do, walls squeezing him tight until he’s spilling his warm seed inside you. You slow as you do, legs quivering, as you nearly slump against him and he holds you impossibly closer. He helps you both detangle, easing his softening cock from inside you, a small groan as he sees your mixed releases leaking from you. He helps you lie back, as he wraps his arms around you, running his fingers through your hair. 
“Are you okay?” he whispers, brow furrowed in slight worry as your eyes flutter open, lips curling as your fingers smooth the wrinkles of his forehead. 
“I’d be better if you’d kiss me,” you whisper and he obliges, a soft kiss to your lips that leaves you warmer than you were before, “now I’m perfect,” 
“You always were,” and you chuckle, rolling your eyes, before shaking your head, burying your face in the crook of his neck. 
“No, that’s because I had an excellent teacher,” and he laughs, before he pulls you even closer, finding your lips in a kiss. 
“And you always will.” 
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“Come on, Fushiguro, pay up,” Nobara holds out her hand, as Megumi glares, pulling out his wallet and plucking money from his wallet and handing it to her. 
“You cheated,” he says as she snatches the money, counting it with a grin on her lips, “I don’t know what you did, but I know you did,” 
“You never said we couldn’t give them advice,” she grins, as she pockets his money, “and all I did was give Yuji a nudge, he’s the one who fucked—“ 
“Alright,” Megumi rubs his temples, “I get it, but it’s still unfair — we’ve been waiting for them to get together all these years and all of sudden he gets the idea to become her friends with benefits—“ and Nobara only grins wider, “you didn’t—“ 
She shrugs, “you can wait around for two idiots to figure it out, or you can shove them off the deep end.” 
“I knew you cheated,” Megumi grumbles, “that’s the last time I ever make a bet with you, Kugisaki,” 
And she smirks, “Well now you’ve been taught a lesson too.” 
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✧ a/n: another celebration fic done! now just one more and then i can start preparing for the next follower celebration :). i've settled on using wips but i'll pick out a bunch of prompts for you all to request for certain ones. that way, you all have had a hand in them <3. thank you to laney for helping beta <3.
✧ taglist: @adrenova, @nakariabnrb, @skvllknight, @hanlay, @spider-fan72, @anonimusunnoaniswriting, @chososcamgirl, @thenezuko, @catsgomurp, @too-much-snow, @sashaiko, @forest-fruits-jam, @rita-ritarita, @anyaeuh, @dezznuggetsblog, @jayathelostdragon, @newspapergirlmal, @2livelaughlovefictionalmen2, @being-me-is-not-a-sin, @xoocii, @firelordazulaaaa, @cira273, @twosec0nd, @ororomunroro, @sunamatic, @withoutanameyet, @gojorgeous, @masctomboy805, @hantaslittlearsonist, @lemonpoppy-seed, @malmare, @teraine, @boopadoopa333, @jeyughh, @coffeebun17, @faeryli, @katienaps, @tojbitch, @fushitoru, @soulofoz, @yamaguccitadashi
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cashmoneyyysstuff · 1 month
Text
chocolate confession ♡
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fem reader, part 2 for the ring pop proposal miniseries since yall were asking for it ! fem reader, soft n worried katsu, white day chocolates, katsu n reader r in highschool (ignore the no dorms blehh :P) in this one, this also reeks of my ocxcanon ship msorry yall lolololol, i dont think there are any warnings, but lemme know if i missed sum else !
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the first person who realizes katsuki is trying to confess to you is his mom because he hasn't left the kitchen since he'd banished everyone from coming in as soon as the sun peeked through the curtains.
the older woman had no idea what the sounds of pots and pans clanging, mixed with not-so-quiet cursing meant, at first. but she figured it out quickly, call it mother's intuition, or the fact that she checked her calendar and realized tomorrow was white day.
mitsuki knew her son was going to confess to you when he came back from school with a cutely wrapped box of chocolates. her katsuki was still rowdy—if not rowdier and even less approachable than he was as a chubby cheeked little boy, so she guessed by the blush and barely suppressed smile on his face that—
"ouuu, got yourself some chocolates ? aren't you a heartthrob.." she teased "who'd you get those from ?"
katsuki scoffed at his mothers teasing. he rolled his eyes, but they wouldn't—or rather couldn't stray far away from the wrapped sweet treats. he runs his thumb over the ribbon tied in front.
"..yn gave 'em to me." he huffs proudly.
as she guessed, they came from you. of course.
katsuki is still—if not even more protective over everything that involves you, practically growling at his mom's not so sneaky attempts at trying to sneak a chocolate when he had opened the box "yn made 'em for me, so no touchin'." he snarled, stomping over to his room and ignoring his mom's knowing smirk when he made his way up the stairs.
this memory brings her back to now when she suddenly hears..nothing. absolute silence in contrast to all the ruckus from only a few seconds ago. and then the door creaks open just a bit and mitsuki sees her son's head peek out from the corner. she looks up from her magazine to raise a brow in question and the blond boy glares, jolting his head to the side in a silent plea for her to come over.
she saunters to the door, knowing smirk growing wider the more her son's grumpy face comes into view. she gets a peek of her kitchen through the small crack her son allowed her to see. she had to admit, though rowdy, katsuki was anything but messy. even though the dishes piled up, she knew he'd clean them up soon enough. she looks down at him and he avoids eye contact.
"can i come into my kitchen now ?" she smirks. katsuki scoffs at his feet. he grumbles something unintelligible before side stepping and telling her to 'just come in already.'
the woman is greeted with a batch of freshly made chocolates, which she assumes are one's you like if she knew how enamoured her katsuki was with you.
"ouu, who are these for, hm ?" she teased, but if he knew her son well enough she knew that these—
"sh-shut up !" katsuki snapped, cheeks turning red and eyes drifting around the room "you know who.." he challenges. mitsuki smirks wider, crossing her arms.
as she guessed, they're for you.
"okay.." she humors him, shifting her weight to her other leg " and what do you need me to do here ?"
katsuki inhales shortly to himself. he picks up one of the chocolates, not from your tray because those were for you and no one else, but from another tray she hadn't noticed of sloppier batches.
"try this." is all he says. handing her a little piece of deformed chocolate and she plops it into her mouth. she takes the time to let the sweet treat melt on her tongue before letting out a pleased hum. katsuki straightens up and his eyes shine and brighten the slightest bit.
"mhm, these are good." she acknowledged "but why don't i get one of the pretty ones ?" she teases. her katsuki all but scoffs in her face, simply stating that "these are for yn, not you."
and mitsuki realizes. he must've been working for hours trying to make these chocolates perfect for you, she guessed. her heart warms and her eyes soften at her son's adoration for you.
"but the one you gave me is good too, why can't you just give her one of those ?" at that, katsuki shoots her an incredulous look, like she had just told him something utterly unimaginable.
"i can't go around givin' her shitty chocolates ! 'specially not if i.." he trails off suddenly, grumbling with balled fists. he wipes at his cheek to try and wipe off his embarrassment. mitsuki feels her smile practically reach her ears. she's too good at this.
"if you what ?" she sings, leaning towards her son. he grumbles.
"if i—stop looking at me like that ! s'creepy so knock it off !" the blond snapped, face and ears a bright shade of pink and mitsuki can't help but bark out a loud laugh at her son's flustered state, her laugh drowns out the low growl he makes. she decides to spare him after a good giggle.
"okay, okay. i get it." she reassures. because she does, of course she does. but she sees something is wrong with the way her son seems satisfied for only a second before he's chewing at his lower lip and the way he wipes his hands against his pants. she knows her katsuki is extremely hard to handle. he could be quite the brat, but also extremely stubborn (she thinks she might know where he got that from.) so asking him simply what was wrong was out of the question. so she decides to coax him into it.
"you gonna give them to her tomorrow ?" he nods, hiding his eyes with his bangs.
"they're good. so i'm gonna give 'em to her tomorrow." her son nods at his mumbled pep talk, but the tension between his brows doesn't let up and after a moment, he sighs grumpily.
"what if i, like, fuck it up..?" mitsuki's eyes soften at her son's insecurities showing despite himself.
"how would you do that ? all you gotta do is hand them over." she asks softly. katsuki huffs.
"it's not that simple," he retorts "what if i make it weird ? what if i make things between us weird an' she doesn't wanna be with me anymore..." the sad tone of voice and the angry little puppy dog eyes make mitsuki melt, despite growing up a lot. despite being quippy and rowdy and a major brat, her katsuki will always be her little boy tugging at the bag of sweet ring pops he'd begged her to buy at the grocery store. her little boy who smiled a bright determined smile as the bag crinkled in his hand following his proud stomps to the car back home, ready for tomorrow.
a surprised throaty noise escapes katsuki when his mom places a hand in his hair, running her fingers through it. he makes a displeased noise, again, but doesn't try to stop her. mitsuki does realize her son is trying to confess to you with these chocolates, but she's a woman too and she knows you, she's known you since you were small and she knows how much you care about her son. she knows from the way katsuki kept the chocolates to himself, the barely supressed giddiness in all of his actions and the way he took his time enjoying every bite she knows and realizes that these chocolates were most definitely just for him.
and she guessed maybe you were trying to tell him something too.
she knew her katsuki had absolutely nothing to worry about, because you carried you empty ring pop container around with you in your bag and proudly explained it was 'your husband katsu' that gave it to you with a giggle. because you'd kiss his cheek without worrying about the ooh's and the kissy noises, only her son's cherry red cheeks but proud smile. because you'd giggle and laugh when he still called you his wife well into elementary school, and because you still smile so wide at the mention of his little ring pop proposal. and so, she smiled. startling katsuki by rubbing his hair fast like an almost noogie. he growls at the sudden shift, gripping his mother's arm and pulling away with a scowl, rubbing and trying to fix his hair. "the hell are you doin', hag ?!" her son seethed, and all she can do is smile.
"you got nothin' to worry about, katsuki." she says sincerely, the boy's arms drop and altough his barely there pout remains he tries to act tough, raising a brow at her "how do you know that ?"
"call it mother's intuition." her smile widens at his scoff and rolled eyes, he's better at it now and she laughs. " why do you wanna give these to her ?" she urges. he thinks for a moment, before his cheeks burn red again but his eyes go soft and warm and so much more enamoured with you than he was all those years ago in the car.
"cus..i like her.." he confesses "an' i don't want anybody else to do it before me." he finishes bitterly.
he's always been protective of you. any other boy you were paired up with or sat next to when the class seating order changed was considered public enemy number one for a while. of course, you had him on a leash, always being able to soothe him by saying that he was your number one best friend. and that was more than enough for him to throw smart glares and snarky smirks, grabbing your hand and dragging you off somewhere to show you something cool. something he knew you'd find cool because he prided himself in knowing exactly what you liked more than the other boys. your favorite ice cream, flowers, and chocolate flavor.
and mitsuki smiles. "right, you like her. so you can't let that scare you off, can you ?" mitsuki feels her heart soaring with pride, albeit with a little amusement when her son scoffs in response "course not. i ain't scared of shit." he states, she decides to ignore the irony of his statement for now.
"of course," she nods "and just between us, i think she likes you, too. i dunno how she does but.." katsuki's eyes widen like she'd just told him something ridiculous, completely ignoring her jab at him. she has to hold back a harsh laugh at how oblivious her son could be.
"that's just my guess though !" she shrugs nonchalantly "but there's only one way to find out if i'm right.."
after a beat, katsuki nods to himself with a grunt, grabbing the tray of chocolates and putting it in the fridge, ready for tomorrow, and wordlessly rolling up his sleeves and starting the dishes, as mitsuki guessed, and she smiles. she pets her son's head again briefly, ignoring his dissaproving grumbles, before giving him a pat on the back and wishing him good luck.
the next day, katsuki walks over to her, sat on the couch, immediately after coming back from school, with a proud smirk and gleaming red cheeks. and mitsuki knew she had nothing to worry about as she grins back.
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taglist *if your name is pink i unfortunately couldn’t tag you :(( : @73isthebestnumber @gold24fish @m-inluv @katsuisbaby @teddiiursulas-ink @moonbabysstuff @brandydel @queenpiranhadon @chuugarettes @starieq @aishio14 @andysdrafts @hyunorue @touyasprettydoll @itsfiive @annoying-bitxh @h0nestly-though @atinytiredpanromantic @mikalame @itzjustj-1000 @deepressed @evam23 @erenstitanweave @m-0ona @chaoticgay13 @lotusstarr @koreluvsspring @giannitaa @waterstarz @nayeonsdoormat @the-crazy-star-12 @kovu-bunnbunn
tumblr is tweakin so if some of your tags don't work m'so sorry :(((
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nicoliine · 3 months
Text
The day you noticed Lucifer was using his wings to court you.
☆彡 In birds, there is a great variety of nuptial displays at the time of courtship, especially in species that have melodious songs or show very striking plumage.
Little did you know, this would include angels or the king of hell himself.
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☆ English isn't my first language. Sorry in advance.
☆ The reader is g/n; no pronouns or y/n are used.
 
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You were always fond of birds, and you dedicated much of your life to helping preserve endangered species. You studied them, spent countless hours learning about the hundreds of species, a lot of diets and their behaviors.
This didn’t seem to stop once you found yourself in Hell; in fact, once you discovered there were a bunch of sinners with bird-like features, you just seemed content to be there.
When you arrived at the Hazbin hotel, you claimed one of the spare rooms as your personal studio, and after what you have called "the toughest battle in your life," you convinced Alastor to let you have a camera "as long as you never get that frivolous technology box near me."
Husk had to ask you not so politely to stop when you first met. Before you could even take his hand, you had started to ask questions about their wings; sometimes you even wrote on an oh-so-worn notebook of yours; it became a common topic of discussion between the two of you. When you forget he has work to do and start to take multiple pictures of his wings and even try to take one of his wings when he is not looking, Angel starts to think that your bartender friend is about to lose it, and you will end with a scratch or two.
 
Besides that, one could say that your presence in the hotel was appreciated; you could be found watching some funny shows on TV with Angel and never saying no to Vaggie when she asked for a favor. Soon, you started to feel part of the hotel, and the rest of the staff agreed with that.
 ☆◦ •◦☆
Lucifer was nothing like any man you had met in life or hell; he was, to put it simply, an awkward guy, always so silly yet so elegant. He had managed to get you longing for his presence more often than you would like to admit.
You are not sure how you and Lucifer became friends, but having a shared interest in ducks seemed to help. You gave him all kinds of facts about them, and he would step by your room every so often to show you the new rubber duck he was working on. Not that you're complaining, but one of his ducks set your courtains on fire on an occasion.
Charlie says that she is proud of his "social advances,” as she used to call your interactions. Seeing him out of his office more often and having an actual conversation with someone seems to make the princess happy and less worried about her father, and if that someone turns out to be you, it is so much better!
  ☆◦ •◦☆
The first time you noticed this weird behavior of his was the day you two met. You couldn’t help but mention, after his bickering with Alastor over who was Charlie’s father figure, that you found his wings precious. Lucifer, being the prideful man he is, wasted no time on extending his wings only for your delight, a smirk on his face as he saw your eyes wide admiring that part of him; they were so magnificent, you could swear they were shining in the light of the room, and you'd die to see if the feathers were as soft as they seemed.
 
Just a simple touch, please.
 
Before returning his wings to their place, there was a flutter of his wings, so slow that there was no way someone could notice.
But you weren't just someone; you knew it. What a coincidence! You could recap an article about some birds courtship.
The second time you saw it, you were in your room minding your own business. He came to you with a smile, but your eyes were looking past him, his wings on full display as he greeted you. There, his wings started flutter again, now lasting more than the last time. Now there is no way it was just a coincidence. “My eyes are up here, darling,” he said, that smirk on his face turning into a pout as you were not paying him enough attention. You just shake your head, focus on the man before you, returning your full attention to him, and the pout on his lips dissapears immediately as your eyes are on him.
 
  ☆◦ •◦☆
You are getting crazy; every time you get a glimpse of him, you find his wings moving in an oh-so-familiar way that you could swear it was a courtship dance, every time bolder than before.
That is when you decided to confront him, getting just a chuckle from him. It made you think maybe it was just your imagination, and you finally lost your mind.
 
While sitting on the hotel balcony, Lucifer was telling you one of his ideas for this new rubber duck. He said it would be the best one he would work on so far, even though you doubted that. Then you stopped listening, your eyes fixated on his wings. Every time he looked at you, they would flutter not so subtly, distracting you from everything around you. Your head rested on your palm, almost feeling bad for not listening to his rambling.
 
"Luci, you're courting me." It was supposed to be a question, but by the way the king of hell stopped his rambling and, looking at you with wide eyes, you found that maybe it was not.
"And what would make you think that?" He said mocking you, he also rested his head in one of their hands.
 
"Your wings, the way you move them," you pointed to his wings; they stopped his movements when you mentioned it; he just chuckled, then started to laugh. Was he laughing at you? It made you want to hide yourself from him; was it your imagination? No way.
 
"So you finally notice," he then said. Once his laugh was gone, he adjusted himself on his seat. Now, with both of his hands holding his face and looking at you with a smirk, his wings started to flutter once more. "I thought it would take you less time, may I be honest"
 
"Actually, I noticed it long ago; I thought it was just my—" You felt the air leaving your lungs once he got on his feet and moved closer to you. "...Just my imagination." You were not strange to his proximity, but this time he just looked so imponent, wings on full display and fluttering around. Now it was definitely a courtship dance, and you were on the receiving end.
 
"Now, what do you think?" He hovered over you who still sitting, a hand resting on the back of your seat, taking one of your hands on his and kissing your knuckles. The kiss lasted longer than you thought was the average time for one, and even then he didn’t let go of your hand. "Was my dance enough to impress you, darling?" Now, looking into his eyes, you could only see adoration, awaiting your response.
 
You couldn't speak; you can't imagine the king of hell pulling up something like this for you.
 
"My dear, please talk to me," he pleaded, a sigh leaving his lips as he hid his face in the crook of your neck. You could feel his warm breath in your skin, burning like hellfire.
 
"It was," you said, Lucifer now turning his face to look at you. You took his face in your hands and moved him closer, he gave you an inquisitive look but with no intention to move from your touch. "I should have mentioned it earlier; it was quite impressive." You smiled, and he did the same.
 
Now, how long you two kissed, you also don't remember; what you remember, however, is how he held you against him as if you were just about to disappear right then, and that when you finally got to touch his wings, you were proved wrong.
His feathers were much softer than you have imagined.
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This idea came to me yesterday when my dad showed me a reel of a lady bird who epically ignored the male who was dancing to her, I felt so bad and immediately thought about Lucifer.
Likes and reblogs are appreciated 💞
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yanderenightmare · 3 months
Text
TW: noncon/dubcon, bullying, reader wears glasses
gn reader
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Thinking about jock bully hunting you down after the bell rings...
You hurry – haphazardously shoving your books and pens into your bag before slinging it over your shoulder – ready to get out before the chimes are even done singing.
Thankfully, it seemed fine for now as you couldn't hear the roaring of buzzing students in the hallway just yet, only your own class packing up their belongings with movements rather lazy compared to yours. 
But you couldn't afford to take your time – even with the free period following the end of your class. You needed to leave before he could find you.
"Where’ you off to in such a hurry, Specs?"
You ought to have knocked on wood before finishing your thought – you admonished yourself with eyes squeezed tightly shut and a punishing bite to your lower lip.
It's funny – you winced – how his voice is so casual, so breezy and laidback, all cool and friendly – funny how it sends such spiky goosebumps down your spine.
You ignore him, trying to squeeze past him – quick and dexterous as you attempt to slip away and disappear out the door – maybe be so lucky to lose him in the crowd.
"Whoa, whoa- you tryna run off on me?" He joked. His large hands held up to block your way. 
You watch the rest of your classmates leave – leaving you to fend for yourself. But you couldn't really blame them… none of you wanted to explain new bruises to worried parents at home.
He was like a shark circling, and if he smelt blood in the water, you were as good as done for. And you were like an open cut.
"Now, what did I do to deserve a disappearing act, huh?" He pouted. His head tilted, blocking out the lights in the ceiling, shadowing his already scary face. 
You nearly squeaked instead of speaking. "Please- I- I-"
"Calm down, will yah?" He dismissed. Flashing you a wide smile – the one that nearly fooled you into believing he was a good and decent guy. "I ain't come to pick on yah…"
You didn't listen. Once again, you bravely tried to push past him with your bag squeezed tightly to your chest – trying to rush to the door.
But his size was like the door itself. Big and squared. Muscly and tough as he blocked your way effortlessly. Though, no less bothered with your insistent attempt at running away from him.
"Now, when I tell you to do something-" He laughed passive-aggressively as his hand reached out to clutch the handle on your bag, yanking you back. "You should perk up and listen, yeah? Use that head of yours for something useful for once."
His knee rode up between your thighs – making you whimper where you stood, caged between his thick arms and the desk behind you.
"Wouldn't wanna make me angry now, do yah?"
His breath tickled your face, and you bowed your head under his gaze – unable to take your eyes off of the veins flexing along his beefy arms as his large hands gripped the table’s edge, sleeves rolled up like usual – the sight of his knuckles whitening, making you queasy with unease.
You tried ducking away once again. "Please, I need to-"
But he just clicked his tongue at the measle effort. Cutting you off yet again. 
"You don't need to do anything but stand here and entertain me." He decided with a voice a bit more biting than before.
You jolted, your eyes round and wide as you looked back up into his glare.
He laughed out a lighthearted chuckle before his hand broke off from marring the desk – scratching the back of his neck with an apologetic smile – serving a small effort at easing your worries where you stood tense and rigid in your place in front of him.
"Thing is…” He started once again, his tone back to normal – or whatever he wanted you to think was his normal. “Coach is gonna kick me off the team if I don’t get my grades in order.” He explained. “So’s thinkin’ since you’re such a good little nerd, you wouldn’t mind helpin’ me out.”
His hand reached out to tickle your chin.
“M’sure havin’ a cute little nerd-tutor like you is exactly what I need.”
Your throat was so tight you thought you might just choke. “I don’t-”
“Good!” He boasted over your pitiful protest. “Since y’got nothin’ better to do, how ‘bout we just head straight for my dorm right now?” He asked – though you knew better than to think it was a question. “Le’me carry that for yah-”
He yanked your backpack from your chest, ripping it out of the tight hug before throwing it over his own shoulder.
“I can carry you too if yah want?” He posed – smirk loud on his face as he placed his large paws at your waist – followed quickly by you shooting your arms forward to shove him off in protest.
But though you thought you’d put in some strength behind it, the boy in front didn’t budge at all. 
He just arched a brow as though asking if that was really all you had. And you hoped dearly he couldn’t see how the stiff muscles of his shredded chest had actually strained your wrists instead.
“What do you say, short stuff?” He leaned in, his breath foggy on your glasses and hot on your cheeks, as his hands clawed themselves into the fat of your waist, pulling you off your feet just a bit.
“N- no, thank you.” You stuttered out, stumbling a bit as you braced yourself against him. Your eyes squished close as you bowed your head away from him in a mix of fear and embarrassment while you suppressed the mortifying feeling of nearly pissing yourself.
But the tall boy realized little of your inner turmoil – rather enjoying it as he scoffed out an amused laugh at you. “A'ight then, come on.”
He yanked you along – his large paw gripping your arm as you struggled to keep up with his long strides. Nearly needing to resort to jogging where you otherwise tripped when the gap between the two of you became so large you had to skip a step or two to catch up – and before you even realized it, you were already standing outside the boy’s dorm waiting for him to find his keys.
He unlocked the door and welcomed you inside with the same grace of a warden showing a prisoner to their cell – with the weight and breadth of his warm hand on the small of your back as he nudged you inside.
The room had an overwhelming dank scent of both bodyspray and sweat and other things you’d only expect to smell in a boy’s locker room.
“Yo.” Came another voice from inside.
“Sup, roomie.” Your bully replied lazily. Grinning at how you gripped his shirt, all but jumping into hiding behind him. 
You’re cute…
“Who’s that you got there?” His friend arched a brow at you, where you peaked at him from behind your bully’s sleeve.
“I’mma need the room.” He announced, not really answering the question.
The roommate then scoffed with a grin, beholding you with slim eyes for a moment, then scoffed once more before he got up to leave.
“Don’t hit the books too hard – Coach’ll have your ass if you don’t bring your A-game later.” He warned, pulling his gym bag up on his shoulder as he excused himself.
You looked around once he was gone, spotting dumbbells and other equipment – and quickly realized how there must be many more muscles beneath his shirt than what you’d already borne witness. 
“So- uhm-” Swallowing the lump in your throat, you awkwardly turned to the boy. “Where're your books?”
Your bully smiled, taking a casual step toward you. “My books?” He asked, nowhere near even trying to sound the least bit genuinely confused.
“Your- uhm...” You paused, feeling uneasy. “Textbooks?”
His smile sharpened. “That’s cute.” He mocked sweetly while buttoning up the small black buttons of his white uniform shirt, giving a flash of those muscles you’d been anxiously anticipating. “You actually thought we were gonna study?”
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BNHA – Bakugou, Kirishima, Shigaraki, Dabi, Hawks
JJK – Sukuna, Geto, Gojo, Naoya, Toji
HQ – Bokuto, Iwaizumi, Sakusa, Miya twins, Tendou, Ukai
AOT – Eren
DS – Akaza, Sanemi
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downbadf0rficppl · 4 months
Text
pink in the night
Bucky Barnes x F!Reader
Summary: Some interesting rumours have been circling around about Bucky. Little do you know, it's kinda your fault.
Word Count: 4.5K
Warnings: Porn with a bit of plot, SMUT, SMUT, SMUT, soft Buck, SMUT!!!!
AN: Sorry y'all! It's kinda a bit shit but listen, it's self-indulgent so idc :) This is kinda inspired by 'Pink in the Night' by Mitski which I was listening to while writing this. Have a good rest of the week, y'all <3
Repost
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Bucky had a love-hate relationship with being your neighbour. On the one hand, he loved seeing your face as you left your room every morning, hair not yet slicked to perfection, and sleep still evident on your face. You seemed a lot more innocent in the morning - conversations more idle.
On the other hand - and perhaps as a downside to his more sensitive hearing - you drove him crazy with the knowledge of things that perhaps he wasn't supposed to know.
This night was no different. You had headed off to bed after a long day, bidding everyone in the kitchen a good night. You grabbed a water bottle before slipping into the elevator, Bucky not far behind. You stepped out of the elevator together and you wished him sweet dreams before slipping into your room. Oh, his dreams were going to be far from sweet.
You see, your beds were pushed up to opposite sides of the same wall, so he could hear you relax on your bed. He could hear you shuffle to strip into just your underwear, and how your hand slipped into your panties. He could hear how your breath hitched as you circled your clit, and your soft moans as you plunged your fingers into your cunt or as your vibrator dipped in between your folds.
He could almost envisage you doing it - a forbidden porno that took root in his mind every night that he heard you finger yourself to completion. The rosy pink flush that you would glow as you came all over your hand. Your heavy rise and fall of your chest as you came down from your high. The small smile that would adorn your face as rolled over to fall asleep - the oxytocin released coursing through your veins.
He felt disgusting as he did - one of those creeps that he intended to protect you from for the rest of his life. But after you'd fallen asleep, he'd hop into the shower to cool his body and his mind - to throw the detestable thoughts of you to the far corners of his mind. But as he fell asleep, you'd re-enter his mind in a different way. A more safe-for-work way. You'd be in his arms, cuddling him and whispering sweet words of encouragement. You'd be cooking him dinner while he told you funny stories about his life with scrawny Steve in the 40s; he'd be washing the dishes while you sat on the counter tell him about your day. He'd worry for your well-being - not as an overbearing coworker but as a loving, doting boyfriend. Maybe husband.
Bucky was getting ahead of himself - he'd have to work up the courage to have more than a few-word conversation with you. But for now, wishing he could hold your hand would have to suffice.
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Being Bucky's neighbour was not much easier. Especially when he was completely oblivious to your plight. Even the slight brush of a hand made your heart flutter.
You loved seeing him early in the morning - he always seemed less reserved when he was fresh from a good night's rest. He was faster to smile, faster to laugh. It was nice. You woke up at an ungodly hour to see him just before he headed on his morning run. You couldn't deny that the morning light did wonders for him - you were always left wanting more when he dipped into the elevator.
Oh, and the sounds. Your hearing was not quite as superior as Bucky's, but you definitely heard things that left you clenching around thin air.
You knew Bucky wasn't one to self-complete often - in fact, it was rare that you ever caught on to the act. But you had caught the odd broken moan coming from his room. You turned into molten mush, the weight of your arousal buckling your knees. If there was any sound that could turn you to putty, it was that.
You didn't how many times the idea of Bucky fucking you had played through your mind, but each night a different variation brought you the same ending - your fingers deep in your cunt, coaxing you to a climax.
Every night, you wished his cock, tongue, fingers were filling you up instead of yours, leaving you aching and wishing for more. You wanted to run your nails down his back - leaving permanent reminders of your love for him - while he nipped at your neck - leaving marks claiming you as his.
Sometimes, your brain caught up to your thoughts, reprimanding you for your possessiveness. He wasn't yours, you had to remind yourself, even if you wished he was. For that, you'd have to actually have to have more than a few-word conversation with him - which to be honest, seemed impossible. So you stuck to your nightly wishful dreaming, hoping one day he'd be yours. Only yours.
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Summer was the worst for Bucky. You were the type to spend hours upon hours out in the sun, coming back with a budding tan and rosy complexion - it did nothing to quell the budding images flashing in the back of his mind. You. Under him. Panting. Moaning his name as he brought you to the edge. Over and over again. Face glowing pink as you gaze up into his eyes, drunk on love and his cock. Bucky had to excuse himself to splash cold water on his face.
It didn't help that the clothing you wore did nothing to help his imagination. The semi-sheer tops, the shorts, the swimsuit and bikinis. Every time he saw you, he immediately had to duck back inside to deal with 'a little problem'. More like a very large, very hard, and very obvious problem.
Still, he enjoyed your company more than he had for the better part of his time living in the compound. He listened to your stories, your jokes, helped solve your issues. He felt that - even if you weren't quite what he wanted you to be - your relationship was blossoming into something quite beautiful. And that made him feel a lot braver - he introduced a little comment here and there, a hand always on your waist or the small of your back. He flirted with you from time to time: just to gauge a meter on your reactions, he'd tell himself, as if this was an experiment to crack a hypothesis that had been perplexing scientists for years.
The sun was peaking over the top of the trees surrounding the compound when you woke up. That was a rarity in summer, given that the sun rose at nearly 5am. Still, you didn't miss out on the opportunity to watch the sunrise, curling up on your windowsill with your blanket wrapped tightly around your shoulders.
You heard Bucky opening his door, and you ran towards yours, grabbing your phone and slippers on your way. You opened your door just as he closed his. He was dressed in gym wear - as always - since he was going on his morning run around the compound track. It was a nice track - one that you rarely frequented - going in and out of the forest behind the compound, totalling about 4.5 miles in distance.
He took you in, eyes bulging as they raked over you. You looked down, following his gaze. Shit. In your rush to see Bucky, you'd forgotten that your nightwear had consisted of some flimsy shorts and your bra - that you had thrown on after waking up to save a modicum of dignity, should someone burst into your room. It was too hot for anything else. You crossed your arms over your chest, which indefinitely made the issue worse as Bucky's eyes lifted way over your head.
"Looking good, babe!" Nat yells, walking across the landing toward you both. Clearly, Bucky had been intending to go on a run with her, maybe fit in a quick sparring session. You sent them on their way, with a 'have fun' and 'don't have too much fun.'
As soon as you were back in the comfort of your room, Nat elbowed Bucky hard.
"Oww! What the fuck was that for?" Rubbing his metal arm, for the convincing act.
"Oh please, you big baby. You have a fucking metal arm, get over yourself." She looked down, "You have a bit of a situation going on down there."
He looks down, embarrassment flushing his cheeks bright red, and subtly tucked his hard dick into his waistband.
"You wanna go sort that out? I won't hold it against you," Nat said, hitting the button to call the lift, "I promise not to tell Stark. Scout's honour." She jokingly holds up 3 fingers. Bucky swats her arm gently.
"No point."
Nat gasps, "No way. Don't tell me Mr. Winter Soldier can't have sex."
"Not sex," Bucky mumbles, "Just jerking off. Can't seem to - you know - finish."
Bucky had a history with Nat. They'd known each other for years. That kind of history made this kind of conversation somewhat less uncomfortable.
Nat burst into laughter. So much for not being uncomfortable.
The lift stopped on Sam's floor. He stepped in, gazing warily at the scene in front of him: the Black Widow doubled over in laughter, and the Winter Soldier embarrassed and uncomfortable in the corner.
He begged to be let in on the joke. Nat wheezed between laughs, "He - can't - fucking - cum!" Bursting into another bout of laughter, with Sam close behind, Bucky jumps out on the next floor, heading to the roof for some fresh air. He catches you up there, trying out some morning yoga. He sneaks up behind you as your stand up, grabbing your waist. You shriek, hitting him hard in the chest, before melting into his embrace once your brain caught up to the situation.
"Not fair!" You pouted, pausing your peaceful music, "Yoga's supposed to be peaceful!"
Bucky chuckles, pulling you into another hug, feeling you wrap your arms around his neck.
"I thought you were going on a run with Nat?" You whispered into his ear, your cheek resting on his clavicle.
"She ditched me for Sam." Bucky opted to leave out the real reason why he had left Nat and Sam in pieces in the elevator.
"Sucks to be you, Barnes!" You laugh pulling away and stepping back onto your mat. "Now leave me alone - just 'cause your friends abandoned you, doesn't mean you can bother me."
Bucky pouted, causing you to laugh before you turned back to your Yoga. He stood there and watched you for a minute, before heading back down to the gym. He strung up a punching bag, before wrapping his flesh wrist. Bucky took all his pent-up aggression and frustration out on the punching bag, allowing no respite between each jab, cross, and hook.
He stayed in the gym for over 3 hours, working every bit of stress out of his body. By the time he left the gym, the sun was high in the sky and a long day of paperwork and training awaited. Bucky headed up to his room for a quick shower - washing all the sweat off his body.
He felt lighter heading downstairs for breakfast - the weight of his arousal pushed far back in his mind. There was nothing he could do about it anyway.
Since deciding he would pursue you honestly, he couldn't seem to finish, no matter how hard he tried. You had been the only thing to push him over the edge - it seemed his body couldn't do it without you. It was frustrating beyond belief. He'd tried other things, porn, erotica, even thinking back to good times before the war. Nothing helped. It was as if his body was finetuned to you - only you knew the magic password to release him. Figuratively and literally.
When he reached the kitchen, he was privy to a welcome sight. You, in your combat gear, grabbing some granola bars before you jumped on the quinjet. You and Stark were heading on a surveillance mission in Guatemala for the week. You were reaching up to the top shelf, stretching on your tiptoes for the expensive granolas that had been kept on the top shelf. Bucky's granola bars that he had put there to stop anyone else from stealing them.
He reached up from behind you and grabbed the box, placing it in your hands. You looked guilty. You'd been caught red-handed.
"It's fine, doll. Take as many as you want." He said, leaning back against the counter, resting on his forearms. Your face flushed red as you grabbed 2 or 3, shoving them into your bag and turning around to fill up your water bottle.
You shivered when his hot breath fanned across your exposed neck, "Just remember that you owe me."
He was gone by the time you turned around.
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The rumour had spread like wildfire while you were away.
"Did you hear that Bucky can't have sex?"
"I heard that Bucky can't - you know - cum?"
"Apparently, his time at Hydra fucked him up worse than he realised."
"He can't even masturbate you know?"
The rumours were getting out of hand, but he let them swirl. There was an ounce of truth to them, even if Hydra had nothing to do with his current predicament.
No, that blame could only lie with you.
When you got back, Bucky had just left on a 4-day-long mission with Sam - which meant you heard all the rumours and Bucky wasn't there to defend himself.
You heard it first when you dropped your suit off for dry-cleaning. One of the tech guys was whispering to Marta, the woman who looked after the dry cleaning of suits, about Bucky's apparent inability to ejaculate. You were shocked. Where the hell did they even get that information? You dropped off your suit and headed back up to your room to shower.
You then heard another mention of it when you went to drop off your reports. Two of the agents that were being reassigned to Steve's team - that were currently on a month-long mission in Chad - were gossiping outside Tony's office.
" - and apparently she ran out crying. Thought she wasn't good enough for him or something along those lines. I don't know."
"Yeah, apparently the breakup was grizzly."
"I feel bad for him you know, all of the shit he went through with Hydra, and now this?"
"Yeah, man, really sucks."
Your face blushed a bright red. What the fuck? Where did this rumour even come from? You knew for a fact that Bucky hadn't had a girlfriend since living in the compound so wherever that part of the rumour came from was completely untrue.
You had to get to the bottom of this.
You spent the better part of the next 2 days collecting bits of information from conversations between people around the compound. You found out that the rumour had originated from a conversation between Nat and Sam, which an agent had overheard while they were on their run. It had been twisted as most oral stories were leading to this big misleading idea that Bucky was unable to even get it up and that he was unable to please a woman. You were sure the latter part was untrue. You'd heard the way he moaned alone in his room - you were sure that you could cum just from his moans alone. He wouldn't even need to touch you.
You didn't think the rumour would affect you when Bucky got back. After all, you knew at least some of it to be false. But when he got back, his beard grown out a little because he couldn't shave it while he was away, you felt embarrassed. Not because of his supposed 'predicament' but because you felt as if you had found out something that you maybe weren't supposed to know.
Bucky caught on quicker than you would have liked. The night after he got back, Tony had thrown a little get-together to 'celebrate midsummer'. Realistically, Tony just wanted a reason to go out and drink with his friends. You had avoided Bucky most of the night - not necessarily intentionally, but Bucky still felt slightly hurt and more than a little confused.
He caught you alone on the balcony, looking out at the stars.
"Did I do something?" He said, sneaking up behind you and making you jump. Nervousness and insecurity laced his every move, worried that he had hurt you in some way that he couldn't possibly imagine.
You shook your head violently, scared to make eye contact with him. He lifted your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his.
"What's wrong?" You turned back to face the sky, embarrassment filling your chest. He laced his metal fingers into yours, "You know you can tell me anything, right?"
"It's stupid."
"No, it's not. Nothing's stupid, not if it's you." Your heart fluttered at his words.
Your eyes met his steady gaze, "It's really stupid." His eyes begged you to go on, "It's just that - um - when I got back I - um - heardthisreallystupidrumourandIshouldn'thaveletitgettomebutbasically -"
Bucky placed a hand on your waist, drawing small circles, "Breathe."
"Someone said you had trouble pleasing women." You let out quietly. If it hadn't been for his enhanced hearing, he probably would have missed you. His grip on your waist tightened, "Bucky?"
"Trouble pleasing women? That's a new one." His deep voice cut you to your core. You let out a small whimper as the arousal pooled in your panties.
Bucky didn't miss that either.
He grabbed your arm and led you through the party. No one gave you a double look as he lead you into the vacant elevator, slamming your floor number and pushing you up against the wall.
"Think I can't please a woman, huh? Think again. Don't think I don't know what you think about when you cum all over your hand, whining my name under your breath." You whined lowly at his words, feeling how he pushed his hard dick perfectly in line with your throbbing pussy, "Isn't that right, slut? That's what you are, aren't you? My perfect little slut?" You moan at his degrading statement, pushing your pussy further onto his cock trying to find some friction.
"So needy," He tutted, his condescending tone only heightening your arousal. The elevator door pinged and Bucky picked you up bridal-style, kicking the door to your room open. You regularly forgot to lock it while heading down to dinner - for once, both you and Bucky were glad.
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He dropped you on your bed, unceremoniously, eyes raking over you ravenously. The heat rose up your face, as you shifted under his unrelenting gaze.
"Oh baby, you don't how long I've been waiting for this." He leaned down locking your lips in a passionate kiss. His palm landed just above your knee, caressing up your leg towards your upper thigh. His hand slid under your dress, cupping your ass. He left a light squeeze, making you gasp into the kiss.
He leaned down, grabbing you with ease, flipping you both so you were straddling his waist. He tangled his flesh hand in your hair, the metal one possessively gripping your hip. He brought you down to his lips for another kiss - even when you were on top, he made sure you knew that he was in charge.
He toyed with the hem of your dress, eyes raking over you once again.
"Off."
You pulled the dress over your head, leaving you in your bra and panties. You felt seriously underdressed, especially considering Bucky was still in his jacket. He reaches up, joining your lips in another kiss, and reaching around to remove your bra. He tosses it to the side, running his knuckles over your pebbled nipples. You moan loudly, panties soaked. He takes his time pinching and squeezing your nipples, licking and biting as he went. The alternate sensations of one warm hand and one ice-cold heighten your arousal ten-fold. You buck your hips over his jeans, the sensation of his fly between your sensitive folds throwing you into overdrive.
His grip on your waist tightened once again. "I can feel your cunt throbbing, honey." You whimpered pathetically. "Go ahead, use me to get off. I know you want to."
Your hips started bucking off their own accord, clothed pussy running over the fly of his jeans. They started slow, getting a feel for what exactly you were doing. Bucky's hands started pushing you faster, setting a faster groove. The coil in your stomach began to tighten as your bucking became more erratic. You teetered on the edge of an orgasm when Bucky stopped you.
"Beg." He restarted your pace, faster and more erratic than before.
"Please, please, please, please, Bucky, please let me cum, please..-" You babbled, tripping and stumbling through your pleas. With a searing kiss, he gives you permission.
"I love you, I love you, I love, OH-" You fall off the edge of one of the hardest orgasms you've ever had, head empty with only one thing on your mind. Bucky.
You feel Bucky manhandle your body so your back is lying on the bed and he is towering over you. He asks you if you want to go on and all you can do is nod your head vigorously.
He chuckles, "I like your enthusiasm baby, but I need words. Can you do that for me?"
"Yes, YES!" You shout, breathlessly, already needing more.
He's fully naked and it's all you can do to not stare. He's definitely a well-endowed man, and he definitely has no problem getting it up.
"Like what you see?" He smirks, and you slap his thigh playfully. He pulls you further toward the edge of the bed and lines his dick up with your slick folds. He slides in slowly, holding your chin up so you keep eye contact with him. He watches as your eyes roll to the back of your head in satisfaction. You've never felt so full in your life. He presses into you slowly, feeling the way your tightness engulfs him, allowing your body to adjust to his size. You whimper softly as he pushes in - you never realised just how desperate you were for him.
"What's wrong, sweetheart?" He chuckles, watching as tears leak out of your eyes. His condescending tone was back, and all it did was make you hornier. You babbled incoherently, "Gone dumb already? What a cock-drunk little slut you are."
He trails a metal finger up the side of your torso, watching the goosebumps left in its wake. You whimper again.
"Such a needy little baby. Only I can take care of you like this, right? Only me."
"Only you." You affirmed, pressing a kiss to the arm near your head.
He pulled out almost entirely, before slamming all the way back in. You screamed in pleasure, and Bucky set a brutal pace. He pinned your arms above your head with his right hand, and his left hand came to wrap around your throat. The significance of that was not lost on you. He loved you enough to not hurt you, even with his metal arm.
"I love you, baby. You know that right?" Bucky looked you deep in the eyes, "You know I love you right?"
"I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you," You babble back, lost in the throes of passion.
Bucky found your clit with his metal hand, pressing and flicking gently. You felt your muscles tighten for a second time, and you grabbed the sheets throwing your head back as you came harder than the first time.
Bucky came moments later, deep inside you with a loud moan. He pulled out slowly, collapsing next to you. You wrapped your arms around him, pulling yourself into his neck.
He chuckled at that, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into a bear hug. You stayed like that for a minute before he untangled himself from you and carried you to the bathroom.
He turned on the shower and you both stepped under it, cleaning the sweat and cum off your bodies. Your legs felt like jelly, so you leaned heavily into Bucky as he washed you off.
"Stay awake, doll, just for a second," He said, shaking you awake each time you dozed off in the shower.
Bucky pulled some of your clothes onto your body, before setting you down on the bed. He gave you a quick kiss to the forehead before promising to be back soon.
He snuck into his room wrapped in a towel, before throwing on the first pair of sweats he could find and dashing to the kitchen for a cup of water.
He snuck back into your room, to see you already dead asleep on the bed. He slipped under the covers, tugging you closer to his chest, and smiled.
Through your grogginess, you nuzzled into his chest. "I love you." You whispered, your lips resting against his heart.
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You woke up to the sound of soft snoring in your ear and sunlight streaming through the window. You smiled. You untangled yourself from Bucky's arms, disappearing into your bathroom to pee. You wash your face and brush your teeth before diving back into Bucky's arms.
Your legs were still sore from last night, but you didn't care. You were Bucky's and Bucky was yours. The very thought put a massive smile on your face.
"What's tickled your feather this morning?" Goddamn, his morning voice was sexy. You smiled and pressed a hard kiss to his lips.
Bucky smiled through the kiss. He picked you up by the thighs, carrying you while he brushed his teeth and splashed his face.
The compound was pretty silent, barely anyone was awake after drinking the night away. So, while Bucky made you pancakes for breakfast, you asked him the question, "Hey, Buck, where did the rumour come from?"
He looked at you, vaguely embarrassed, "You know that day, when me and Nat were gonna go down to train?"
You face flushed red, "When I walked out in my underwear?"
"Yeah," he chuckled, "I got a hard-on, like a teenage boy."
You stifled a laugh.
"So, Nat said, do I wanna go deal with it? And I told her I couldn't."
You looked at him confused, "Why not?"
"Cause of you," he said simply. You looked at him even more confused, "You were the only thing I got get off to. I tried everything else. Porn, erotica, even thinking about old sex. Nothing worked."
You flushed red again. "Oh god, I've weirded you out, haven't I?" You broke off his impending spiral with a kiss.
"I love you." You said, placing a kiss on his bare chest.
He looked at you with such love and reverence that you felt like you might combust under his gaze.
He kissed you again and all you could think was, "I love you, I love you, I love you."
I love you, I love you, I love you.
I love you I love you I love you.
fin.
buy me a coffee
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targaryenluvs · 5 months
Text
DELICATE
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pairings: dark!coriolanus snow x innocent!wife!reader
warnings: erm we’re back at it with another dark corio! possessiveness, literal murder, threats, vulgarity, nc touching -dumbification/babying, emotional manipulation and vulnerability, sexual undertones and thoughts, ownership?? NOT PROOFREAD
summary: coriolanus had to marry. lucky for him one of the most eligible girls of the capitol was up for grabs. only problem? he hoped his cold exterior would keep her away but nothing broke her sweet spirit. what happens when he finds himself being drawn to her light? and how far was he willing to go to keep it untainted and all to himself?
word count: 2.09k words
a/n: i swear i can only think of dark ideas for him because he is practically crayz - i loved this concept tho so enjoyyyy - annoyed i can’t find any post-lucy gifs snd i’ve already used the other one help me plz
taglist: @sleepydang @aspieundercover @darktrashsoulbear @3lliesrifle @rafeysbafey @zejjef @themorriganisamonster @cryfordemie @winterblu2 @earthangel-111 @taylarxse @alexameliamg @katastrophic04 @jjggdfvvy @joshwifeyslaymamaballs @10ava01 @kis9na @princessdaella @princessloveweird @prettybiching @justacaliforniandreamer @bxtchopolis @witchafterz @har-rison-s
PART TWO
coriolanus wanted nothing more than a relaxing night. he’d been at a campaign meeting for about four hours and he’d gotten absolutely nothing out of it.
he was in the right mind to fire them all and work it himself but he knew he couldn’t. all he wanted was to go home, have a bath drawn for him, eat dinner with you and go to sleep.
coriolanus had seen a number of weird things in his life but nothing was weirder than seeing you, hanging up the laundry to dry. you’d stopped him in his tracks but hadn’t yet noticed his presence as you hummed to yourself and went about your business. after staring in confusion for a few minutes he cleared his throat, “y/n. what are you doing?” you turned towards him with a smile, “it’s christmas! so i sent the staff home for the rest of the day so they could be with their families. don’t worry i had them prepare your bath, dinner and everything else. there were some things left to do so i thought, why not do them myself? i cleaned my room and yours, ironed the previous batch of laundry and placed them away, dusted the library and i was hanging up the laundry until you showed!” you beamed as you continued to hang the clothing.
coriolanus took a seat on one of the lawn chairs as you continued. he decided to watch you, to make sure you were okay. because who on earth wants to do laundry? that was the very reason you had so many servants. but here you were.
“you can head inside corio, no need to wait for me!” you said sweetly. coriolanus was a strong man, always rational. but god when you spoke so sweetly to him- no. “there’s no need, i’ll wait till you’re done.”
the sun was hanging low as the last rays illuminated the dining room. you’d set out candles, flowers and other pieces on the table. back home you loved setting the table, until your father would reprimand you for doing something you didn’t need to. what will people say if my daughter is acting as a servant?
but right now you felt at ease.
you had a good life. good friends which were rare to find in the capitol. good family and a good husband. he was proper, took care of you in every way, even if he didn’t love you, you were grateful to be married to someone you liked. admired. you’d heard whispers of corio’s childhood, his depleted resources and poor upbringing. but you couldn’t care less. he was more of a man than anyone you knew. and he was extremely pretty, your parents would’ve probably married you off to whomever they thought would help with social standings so this match? a lifeline.
coriolanus kept himself in check. he was up for presidency, his name and wealth restored and he was respected and feared. you were a diamond in the rough. whilst all the other girls in the capitol were, special, to say the least, you weren’t like them. first of all, he could tolerate you. like you even. you were exceptionally smart, well-read and spoken, respectful of those worthy but even those beneath you. you were kind, not the fake kind of the capitol. kind to everyone, helping everyone however you could.
and to him it was more than perfect. someone kind would be easy to have, easy to be married to. he knew from the second he saw you as marriage material that you’d never endanger those around you. you cared, enough to put your happiness to the back of the line. you’d be easy to control. after the wedding he expected you to be clingy, desperate for his love and affection. as any girl would from their husband, but you kept your distance. you didn’t push yourself on him, you did your duty. you did what was required and more. but you always listened, listened to him.
so he assumed you’d be easy to be married to, but he was always in awe of you. your sweet smiles every time you passed eachother in the halls, in the morning at breakfast and at night for dinner. always catering to him.
“what should i wear?” “you can choose.” “you tell me.” “it’s your choice.” and god did it inflate his ego. you were always asking about him, how his day was, what he did, who he saw etc. but it wasn’t just small talk, you were always listening. absorbing his words like a sponge, wide eyes, head nodding along dumbly. he loved it. and over the year he found himself, caring, on the inside at least.
every time you’d go out there were hungry eyes consuming you. your face, body everything. and he wanted to personally pluck out each eyeball and feed it to their families. so again, overtime, he’d shield you, protect you. his sweet wife who knew nothing of what the others wanted to do to her. a hand on your back, an arm around your waist, a peck on your forehead and his large red coat around you. all for show right?
he wanted to puke.
the smell of cabbage wafted to his nose and he was oh so close to putting this fist through the wall. who on earth-
you were humming, again. “corio!” your voice was music to his ears, corio, no one said it to him anymore. not even tigris. but he only liked, only wanted it to come from you. “dinner is served, some of your favourites are here. i asked tigris what you use to eat as a kid. ooh, you never told me you liked cabbage, me too! guess that’s another thing we have in common.” you beamed as you walked over with a bottle of wine, “tell me when to stop.”
he eyed you up the entire time. trying to catch a fleck of disgust whilst you ate, andddd, nothing. you weren’t lying, you actually liked it. he swallowed his own fear and began to eat.
“mm, i was wondering what you wanted me to wear tonight? i’d like to match corio, if that’s okay with you.” corio smiled slightly, “i would like to match. i have something i would like you to wear tonight sweetheart.” your eyes darted forwards as the word fell, sweetheart.
you couldn’t help the smile that came to your face, he only used terms like that in public. and based on his reaction afterwards, of which there was none, it meant that he probably didn’t even realise. or he did, you could never read him.
the red dress did things to coriolanus. the idea of you in it has his head spinning, but to actually see you in it? he wanted to throw you onto his bed and never let you out.
but to you it looked as if he was studying the dress rather than looking at you in it. “you look good.” you grinned, “thank you corio! i love your suit, you look very handsome.” you straightened his suit as he looked over your shoulder, your back was bare. “do you have a throw?” you quickly nodded and picked it up from the dresser. “good.” you already got a million stares in ordinary clothing, tonight was going to test his patience and anger.
the gala was gorgeous. for once there wasn’t ugly statues and weird color matches. a clean and pristine white hall, chandeliers, gold accents.
your heels clicked on the floor as coriolanus held his arm for you. “your hand please.” corio stared, waiting for your further explanation. “when we link arms your arm is too high for me. i end up with my arm at my neck.” you laughed as he lent his hand, which you gladly took.
stares and compliments at every corner of the room, everyone was looking at you two. the future president and first lady of panem. a match made in the capitol. you and coriolanus made the rounds, talking to present sponsors, potential sponsors and other candidates, much to coriolanus’s distaste. after a while you realised you were sort of just standing there, so you excused yourself for a drink and a closer view of the band.
“you look, ravishing.” charles operman. a sight which no one wanted to see, but to you he was just an ex-peer of the academy. “charles! thank you, corio picked it out for me.” you’d missed the way his jaw clenched at the mention of your husband, but you were to engrossed by the angelic singer and band. “you know, i always thought we’d end up together.”
the abruptness of his sentence had you choking on your drink, “excuse me, i’m married charles. i’m sorry if you thought that we would be together, i see you as a friend. i’d hate to lose a friend.” you smiled as he got uncomfortably closer and leaned into your ear, hand on your bare back.
coriolanus’s grip on his cup was tightening as he listened to lucky drone on and on. he wanted to see the life leave charles’s eyes, maybe his head would make as a nice present for you. “excuse me.” he nodded his head as he placed his cup on a passing waiters tray. you were helpless, and he was here to help you.
his breath was hot in your ear and you could smell the liquor on him as he was grabbed from you. “coriolanus, sir.” charles mocked salute as coriolanus stared at him, maybe he thought if he stared long enough hed burn into the floor. coriolanus rarely smiled, but this one was unsettling to say the least.
“if you ever put your hands on my wife, look at her, speak to her. it will be the last time you do so. i might just call in a favor with dr gaul, i hear your fond of snakes?” charles’s eyes widened, he hated snakes. he couldn’t even watch the 10th hunger games, the second he saw the snakes he ran to the bathroom and hurled.
“when i become president, you better keep yourself in line. it’d be horrible to see your family in the games no?” charles took a step back, “you can’t do that, i’m capitol.” coriolanus drew back,
“you won’t be for long.”
you couldn’t believe your eyes, of course he’d protect you but, threatening? he’d never do it right? the shutters of cameras had you reaching for corio, “can we leave my love?” coriolanus turned to you, “of course sweetheart.”
he’d stayed up for a long time. a smile came to his face when he remembered the sound of charles’s neck snapping. the door creaking open revealed a disheveled you, “corio? are you awake?” he sat up as you released a breath.
“what is it y/n?” you took a shy step forward, “i uhm, i can’t stop thinking about charles. he scared me, i didn’t know what to do corio. i-” you couldn’t stop the tears from falling as coriolanus swiftly got out of bed, helping you into his bed. “i- can i sleep here tonight? please?”
this was definitely not how he first expected to have you in his bed, but how could he say no to you? your hair in its braid, messy and lose, puffy eyes and tear stained face. he wished he’d first seen you cry underneath him but he’d take what he could get. what he didn’t expect was for him to like this, the scene of you crying, needing him. he was the one who could help you, console you, coddle you.
coriolanus nodded as he moved back to the bed, tucking himself and you in softy, caressing your hair and kissing your forehead. god he’d held out for so long, denied himself and his feelings but having you in his arms was all he could ever want, but the idea of being in you flooded his head.
would you cry like this? would you shout and scream? did you like it soft and sweet? he couldn’t be soft and sweet, he’d savour the moment but he loved the idea of unravelling you, he’d be the only one to see you like this, him being the only one to make it happen.
you curled into his chest, like a baby. your soft cries and whimpers went straight to his crotch and soon enough you were asleep.
his sweetheart, his delicate little wife.
corios hand slipped downwards and into your pants, he promised himself he just wanted to feel but god you made it difficult. he saved you tonight, didn’t he deserve a reward? didn’t matter if you detested he had you where he liked. so he slowly rolled over and placed you on the bed.
your eyes fluttered at the change of placement but he couldn’t care less. he was done waiting.
you squirmed underneath him in your sleep but his worries faded away.
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