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thevillainswhore · 3 months

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New Tricks: A Pure Love

Pairing: Virgin!Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Word Count: 11.5k

Summary: From first kisses to first dates, the two of you have come a long way from pining over the other in secret and innocent touches during an unplanned movie night. But now, what once was a forbidden fantasy for an unattainable crush becomes reality when you coach Bucky Barnes through losing his virginity.

Warnings: College AU, brother’s best friend!Bucky, fluff, swearing, teasing, smut, loss of virginity, unprotected p in v sex, nipple play, handjob, praise kink, size kink, big hints of subby Bucky, dorky Bucky, love confessions.

Author’s Note: Beta and dividers by @rookthorne, she’s been my rock through this whole AU. Words will never be enough to thank you my love ❤️ Here is part three and the final instalment to New Tricks’ main storyline 🥹

New Tricks Masterlist 🌼🐾

New Tricks Playlist 🎵

Your evening together has been magical, something pulled straight out of your dreams. The visuals of the bright, glowing stars and planets are nothing in comparison to the smile that pulls at Bucky’s mouth, even after the two of you left the museum.

During the walk back to your dorm with Bucky, he talks constantly and animatedly about the planetarium — recounting his joy for all the astronomical wonders he got to witness up close. And listening to your boyfriend’s contagious glee for a date you put together has you grinning from ear to ear.

In the late hour, you make a stop on your way back to the local twenty-four hour dessert parlour that is close to your dorm, opting for two single scoop ice cream cones. Bucky chose chocolate; you chose strawberry, and you stroll hand in hand down the Brooklyn cobblestones.

“I still can’t believe you don’t like chocolate ice cream, Bee,” Bucky accuses with his mouth full, shaking his head with a high sense of mock disapproval.

You roll your eyes playfully and scoff. He hasn’t stopped complaining about your dislike for chocolate flavoured treats since you revealed that snippet of information while you perused the options available to you at the parlour. “How many times are we going to go over this, Buck? Strawberry is superior,” you tell him with a proud smile.

“Absolutely not!” Bucky gasps, outraged. “I refuse to listen to this slander against chocolate.”

“Drama—” Your retort is cut short by him pressing you against the wall of the building next to you. The cone of ice cream in your hand almost topples precariously, interrupting you mid lick, and he ignores your surprised shout of, “Hey!”

“We are settling this right now, Buttercup.” He looks deep into your eyes with dire seriousness. “You’re gonna try mine and tell me that you like it.” The cone of chocolate ice cream appears in your peripheral vision.

“Bucky!” You laugh. “I haven’t tried chocolate ice cream in years!”

“All the more reason to try it now.” He holds his cone up to your mouth, a twinkle in his bright blue eyes and a pout on his plump lips. “For me?”

“Y’know, you can’t keep bribing me with those puppy eyes — No matter how handsome you are.”

With a cheeky smile, he whispers, “Is it working, though?”

Sighing in defeat, you can’t help the upturn of your lips at his charm. “You’re lucky you’re cute. Hit me with it.”

Like the cat who got the cream, Bucky closes the gap between you and the cold treat, letting it slightly touch your lips — the cold sensation makes you shiver, and you tentatively stick your tongue out, slowly laving it up the side of the scoop of ice cream.

The strong taste of cocoa and sugar doesn’t impress you, and you flick your gaze towards your boyfriend to say as such, only, he’s homed in on the motion of your tongue while you lick the last remnants of cream from your lips.

He shudders, the strong line of his shoulders shaking with the force of them, and he pants quietly. The rise and fall of his chest is uneven while his blue eyes darken to a stormy grey.

It's difficult to contain the satisfied smirk growing on your lips as you ask teasingly, “You good, baby?”

Bucky gulps, unsuspecting of such an innocent act to affect him so much. “I’m uh— I’m good.” His head bobs up and down, no real confidence in his answer, but his stare still pins you in place and he bites his bottom lip. “How’d you like it?”

“Hmm,” you hum, then you lick your lips again — just to make sure they are entirely clean, of course. Bucky’s eyes follow the movement with rapt attention. “I have to say…” The urge to use pretence to answer his question makes you want to burst into laughter, but you soldier on with the truth. “I’m sorry, honey. I still stand by my initial statement.”

The erratic movements of his chest abruptly cease, and his eyes never leave yours while you lean forward, closer to his lips. “But,” you whisper, the tips of your fingers dancing up his chest. Every touch builds the deepening tension swirling in his eyes. “It doesn’t hurt to try something new every so often, Puppy.”

You reach up to the corner of his mouth and swipe the smudge of chocolate ice cream left there with your thumb, then suck it into your mouth, releasing it with a wet pop — it feels like you well and truly break his resistance.

Bucky’s fingers twitch against the cone by your lips, and it crumbles. The forceful puffs of air from his parted lips blow against your mouth, the inevitability of him pouncing on you any second undeniable.

Rather than making it easier on him, you smirk and push him back by his shoulder. “Never hurts to experiment — Try new things. You never know.”

The dazed expression on his features is innocently sweet, and you try not to laugh as he reaches out for you to drag you back, but you dodge his hands and walk away, out of reach. You look at him over your shoulder and lick up the dribbling cream that almost reaches your hand.

Bucky stares after you, mouth agape. “I— What—” He shakes himself back to reality, and he licks his lips, brushing his long hair back with his fingers and he throws his crumbled ice cream cone into the nearest trash can — no longer interested in that sweet treat.

Bucky’s long strides work to catch up with you, a new kind of spark in his eyes you haven’t seen before. “Something new, huh?”

“Yeah, handsome,” you purr. The steps to your apartment come up, and you take the first few with your back to Bucky, a smirk playing on your lips. Just as you reach the entryway door, you look over your shoulder at your boyfriend, who returns your coy smile with a hesitant one of his own. “Sometimes you’ve got to just let go and give in.”

Bucky stands behind you while you unlock the door to your dorm. The material of his button up shirt scrapes against the bare skin of your arm, and you try to suppress the shiver that runs down your spine, but it's useless. The air is charged with a thick tension unfamiliar between the two of you, and you feel as though you're swimming in new territory, wading into the depths of the unknown.

“I had a great time tonight, Bee,” Bucky says quietly over your shoulder; the urge to kiss the skin there too tempting for him not to fall into.

A shiver ripples down your spine from the sensation of his lips tickling your skin, and you stop just as you’re about to open the door. They move carefully over the slope of your neck and up to the lobe of your ear.

Reining in your arousal, you turn around and agree with a broad smile. “Me too, handsome.”

His eyes flicker between you and the door to your dorm. You hold his hand while the other rests on the handle behind you. “Ready to go in?” you ask.

Bucky clears his throat. “Mhm,” he mumbles, and with his confirmation, you open the door. Immediately, the glow of orange lights grab his attention as they dance on the ceiling. Lit candles are placed on surfaces around the room, while your vinyl record turntable plays soft music.

The ambiance seems to both intrigue and calm Bucky, and you feel your own shoulders loosen. Thank you, Nat, you think inwardly.

“Come on,” you whisper, urging Bucky further into your dorm room. He walks forward wordlessly, and with him out of the way, you close and lock the door behind you both — it affords you a solitary second to process the secret desire that has been stored away for so long.

A guilty pleasure about your brother’s best friend that you revelled in at one point in time is becoming a reality.

There is no means to do that now, to stow it away in secrecy — he stood behind you, right there in reach of you, no longer a fantasy.

The door locks with a muffled click, and you turn around to see Bucky standing by the foot of your bed, head bowed and fiddling with the hair tie around his wrist. Slowly and steadily, you edge closer to him, careful not to make any sudden movements that will spook him. “Bucky?”

His body tenses slightly, his shoulders almost reaching his ears as you near him.

“Sweetheart?” you repeat, and you tuck back some of the hair that kept him hidden — a curtain he didn’t want to peer through. A dazzling pair of ocean blue eyes meet your own; swimming with anxiety and the desperate craving for direction.

“Hi, you.” Your voice soothes him, and he instantly melts into you — callused, trembling hands rush to seek contact, finding their home around your waist.

“Hi, Bee,” he whispers, resting his forehead against yours.

The soft instrumental of guitar chords pacifies the ambience. “How are we doing?” you ask gently.

Bucky swallows the lump in his throat, and there’s a shaky, tremulous quality to his voice when he answers with, “Nervous.”

You place a gentle kiss to the tip of his nose, hoping to calm him. “About what, baby?”

Leaning slightly backward to better look into his eyes, you notice there is a storm of emotions swirling through his irises. In an attempt to soothe the hurricane, you comfortingly rub your hands down his muscled arms.

“S— Sex.” His neck flushes with patchy red blotches; a staple of whenever he is flustered.

You hum soothingly and nod your head, acknowledging his worries. “You know, we don’t have to do it if you feel like you’ve changed your mind, sweetheart. I was nervous for my first time, too.” Your fingers wrap around his arm to squeeze gently, grounding him in the wallow of nerves. “It’s okay if you’re not ready.”

“No.” Bucky shakes his head, gulping. “I— I want this. I really want this.” There is such conviction and assurity in his voice that you cannot help but kiss him softly. He pulls back and his breath shudders.

“You’re completely sure about this?” you ask once more, making sure to give him the space to reject your advances if he feels the need to.

“Mm.” Bucky nuzzles into your neck, taking comfort in your embrace as he mumbles into your skin, “With everything I have.”

You grasp his face into your hands with the most care and love you can possibly manifest to bring him out of his safe retreat, and you connect your lips with his again.

The motion comes easy to Bucky now, natural. He has no fear and certainly no hesitation to kiss you the way he likes, with tenderness and an urge to claim you as his own — his mouth moves over yours in a synchronised dance, the steps familiar, but it still feels new, thrilling in nature.

Snaking your hands down from his cheeks, your fingers leave a trail of goosebumps in their wake over his neck. They stop over his collar, and you look into his eyes to gain permission to undress him. “Can I?”

“Yeah.” He’s relaxed enough in your hold to not allow nerves to hinder him just yet.

You begin to make your way down his covered chest, and with the utmost care, you unfasten each button effortlessly — tan skin, smooth as silk and dotted with a pattern of sun kissed freckles, is revealed with each undone button, and you have to tamper down your impatience to rip the shirt straight off of his shoulders.

“You’re so gorgeous, Bucky,” you breathe in disbelief, and your palms slither back up his body, sneaking over the ridges of his abs. “And all mine.”

“Ah–” Bucky gasps and jolts — your nails, longer than usual, brush over a responsive area of his stomach and you grin into his neck.

You skim the tips of your fingers over the planes of his pecs, and over his shoulders to finally slide off the material veiling the godly sight of his body to you. Of course, you have already seen your boyfriend without a shirt on before, but right now, in the glow of the candlelight and the orange hues dancing over his skin, he looks like he’s been sculpted from the angels themselves.

“Bee…” A dust of pink decorates his high cheekbones, still ever so shy with your compliments.

You open your mouth to reply, but Bucky thoroughly shocks you as he begins to unbuckle his belt, the muscles in his stomach tensing as his hands work to free the leather from his slacks.

You watch, breathless, while he pulls down the slacks to reveal a pair of tight black briefs that do nothing to hide the growing bulge. Bucky is fucking huge, that much you make out from the strain of the material, and you’re almost sure he isn’t even fully hard.

“Oh my god.” The sensation of your quiet divulgence against his ear elicits a sudden moan from his lips. You will never tire of being the cause of that sound.

The rush his vocalised pleasure evokes has you beginning to reach behind your back to unzip your dress. However, Bucky hesitantly stops your hands in their haste. “C— Can I do it?” he stutters, eyes wide and glossy. “Can I undress you — Please?”

It would be a crime to not allow him after a plea so sweet.

With your nod of approval, he takes a deep breath, calming his nerves before he makes his way behind you. You feel his fingers hover over your back, tentative and unsure and it takes him a moment until he sighs in finality.

He pinches the zipper, tiny in his long fingers, and he slowly descends the barrier downwards. The spaghetti straps slip off one by one — his knuckles gently skim over your shoulders until they trail down your arms, and with a quiet flutter, the entirety of your dress falls to the floor, leaving you in just your lingerie.

You wait patiently, letting Bucky take in every inch of your half naked form. Moments pass by and your combined breaths — one steady, the other erratic — ricochet through the room.

“Sweetheart?” You feel the strands of his long hair sweep across your skin as he looks up at the sound of your voice. “Would you like to get my bra?” It’s an offer, a choice for him to decide on his own terms without the pressure.

Stunning you with his growing confidence, he begins to unfasten the material — the straps fall down your arms with ease and you gently let it drop to the floor.

Bucky gulps harshly, then. The realisation that your breasts are on display for the first time to his eyes hitting him like a truck.

Stepping around your figure to come to your front, he keeps his eyes on your face, never once looking away as he kneels to the ground. His nimble fingers work to slip your heels off, taking care to help you place your bare feet down onto the carpet without letting you trip, and he kisses your lower thighs. Once he’s finished, the palms of his hands rub up the back of your calves and squeeze while he rises to stand.

His gaze still doesn’t stray.

“You can look, Bucky — It’s okay.”

Only with your go ahead do his eyes dart down, taking the entirety of your body in at once. A harsh inhale of breath catches in his throat, the rise and fall of his chest is rapid while his fingers twitch by his sides. His gaze locks onto your breasts — guilty as charged with his basic instincts.

“Puppy,” you call out to him, parsing through the growing fog of desperate need in his mind, visible by the glint of hunger across his irises. “Come here.”

His eyes shoot up, searching your expression for any sense of mocking, and he finds none. There is a desperate gleam in his cloudy, misted gaze — frantic for guidance and reassurance still. “Come here, baby,” you whisper, holding your hands out for him to grab hold of. “It’s alright.”

The steps Bucky takes are rigid, robotic — not allowing himself to lose what little control he has left. You vow to change that. He stops at a small distance in front of you, further away than you care for, and you take the bait to bring yourself closer until your nipples skim across the bare planes of his skin.

The sensation steals your breath away, and Bucky squeezes his eyes closed, clenching his fists at his sides — it takes you back to your movie night together all that time ago, when the voice in his mind told him to hold back, to not give in to the urge to reach out instead.

And that just wouldn’t do.

“None of that, sweetheart,” you coo, softly. “I’m gonna need you to open your eyes so I can see you.”

Like magic, he flickers his eyes open, and he swallows around the lump in his throat.

“There he is.” You smile reassuringly at him. “Deep breaths for me, baby. You’re doing so good.”

Bucky takes a small moment to do as you say, treating your word as gospel. His mouth works furiously over the words that won’t seem to come, until he settles on a breathless, “You’re so beautiful.”

The way he’s devouring you with his eyes says volumes of his true meaning, and you couldn’t find it in you to mind that he was speechless.

You gently tuck the hair that’s fallen into his eyes behind his ears. “Oh, baby,” you whisper back, holding his face in your hands while a torrent of emotions that vary from awe to trepidation threaten to sweep you away. “You’re something else. I’m so lucky.”

A small huff of laughter falls from his parted lips, and he begins to grin, a cheeky pull at the corner of his lips that spreads warmth from your core to the tips of your toes and fingers. “If only you knew how much the guys on the team make fun of me for saying the exact same thing.”

The two of you share a small bout of laughter — a wholesome moment to cut the charged air and be yourselves for a second.

You slide your hands down from his face down to his chest, feeling the steady pitter patter of his heart that’s calmed down from the fast thrum — the soft smile you give him forces a heavy exhale of breath from his lungs, and you revel in the one you’re given in return.

“Good to keep going?” You check in once more.

Bucky nods his head, certain. “Please.”

“Sit on the bed for me then, Puppy,” you softly direct him.

Following behind him, sure to stay close for both his benefit and yours, he climbs onto your mattress and sits against the headboard. He holds his hand out to you, routine embedded into him to guide you onto his lap.

It registers to him then, as your bare skin melts against his, that you have never been in this position with so little layers between you.

Carefully, you rest your crotch — covered by your thin layer of underwear — against his. A thrill of tension stiffens Bucky’s muscles, and you smile gently at him while you shuffle your knees comfortably on either side of his thighs — fully aware that the sensation is much more intense than usual.

“Bee…” His warm, callused hands hover over waist as you readjust yourself, and while you set yourself down on his lap, the lace of your panties swipe over his hardening cock. “Oh— Fuck.” He chokes out.

Immediately, you still. “What’s wrong, baby?”

“I wanna touch you,” Bucky forces out, breathing heavily. “So bad—”

“Remember to breathe, Buck,” you remind him gently, not wanting him to overwhelm himself — not this early. “You’re okay, I’m here.”

His chest shudders with a harsh breath, and he whimpers, “I don’t know what to do.”

The lack of experience and inadequacies that stem from it run rampant through his saddening expression, from the sheen of tears that start on his lash line, to the deep frown on his pouting lips. They lock him in place and render him frozen under you — the tense line of his thigh muscles taut beneath yours.

You realise with a shock that while he is so eager to please, a mingling sense of shame screams that he won’t be able to make this good for you.

“Hmm. Baby, listen,” you soothe, gathering his attention once more. His hands intertwine easily with your own and you kiss his knuckles. “How about we start off with something you do know?”

Bucky looks at you with all the innocence of someone completely out of their depth. “O— Okay,” he stutters. “Yeah, I can do that.”

You smile, placing a single, loving kiss to his lips. “I’ve got you, baby.”

Sitting back upright, you slowly test a gentle roll of your hips over his crotch and instantly, Bucky gasps loudly. You grin salaciously as you witness his eyes flutter closed. But you still take care to stop, to wait a second and look for any signs he doesn’t like it — there are none, much to your satisfaction.

Slowly, you rock back and forth over his bulge, drinking in the slight, hitched moans and whines that fall from his lips. “You’re doing so well — Proud of you.” You bring the tips of his fingers to your lips and kiss them gently. “It’s only you and me, okay?”

Bucky’s eyes flutter; heavy breaths escaping his mouth. “You and me,” he whispers.

“That’s right. Just us.”

“You don’t have to worry your pretty little head, Puppy,” you tease gently. Bucky bites his lip. “I need you to just relax — Sit back and let me do the thinking.”

“Buttercup–”

“Here.” You guide Bucky’s hands to your sides, smoothing them down the slopes of your hips, and you repeat the motion a few more times to better allow him to feel accustomed to the feel of your naked skin. “There you go.”

His hands, rough and calloused from his football training, stain your body for an eternity — caressing you with a ceaseless love and compassion.

“Touch me,” you say, unable to simmer the blooming heat within you.

Transfixed, Bucky’s thumbs brush back and forth. There’s still a sense of hesitation in his movements — the way his fingers twitch and tickle over your skin. But it lasts only a moment; a path of his own choice decorates your sides, leaving goosebumps in its wake. “Your skin is so soft,” he sighs in awe.

He rests his head back against the headboard with a soft sigh, and he tilts his chin down to watch you grind against his bulge. Leisurely, he tenderly brushes his fingers over your stomach, the touch of his hands beginning to drift upwards under the slope of your tits.

“Please, Bucky,” you plead with him, the tease of having him so close is too much to bear. “Touch me.”

“‘Kay,” he mumbles drunkenly.

The pad of his thumb swipes over the peak of your nipple softly, a barely there sensation that makes you keen. “Yes, just like that, Pup.”

It’s all the reaction he needs.

With a surge of confidence, Bucky begins to massage your tits, continuing to use his thumbs to rub circles over your sensitive nipples while you grind against his growing cock. “I— Is this okay, Buttercup?”

You almost scoff — the thought that his experimental touches are anything less than okay absurd to you.

“Yeah, yeah,” you whine, and the reassurance of your pleasure invigorates him to move faster, steadier and more firm with his touch. “Making me feel so good, baby, keep going.”

Lost in the feel of his touch and the insistent pressure of his clothed cock against your folds, you tilt your head back and close your eyes. The flutter of butterflies in your stomach crescendo into a frenzy the faster you move. All the while, you miss the way Bucky’s gaze is intently focusing on the way your breasts sway with the grind of your hips; how he licks his bottom lip with an urge to claim.

The sharp, intense sensation of his fingers pinching a peaked nipple between his thumb and forefinger forces a shout from your parted lips. “Fu–uck, Bucky — Ohmygod.” Your cunt pulses and aches when his fingers stay hovering, spooked at the sudden reaction. “More, more—”

“Fuck,” Bucky groans, and he bucks up into you, matching your rhythm and this time, it’s you who’s soaking the material of your panties. “Bubs, I— Holy shit — I need more.”

It’s an achievement you’re most excited for, that he’s freely telling you, unprompted, what he needs.

Though, the teasing nature you held could not be dissuaded — you meet his gaze with a mischievous grin. “Yeah, Puppy?” Your hands hover over his lower stomach, the tips of your fingers dancing over the twitching muscles, and you move your index finger beneath the fabric. “Wanna get rid of these?”

The elastic waistband of his underwear snaps back against his lower stomach, making him yelp in surprise. “Ah— Mhm,” he begs deliciously, eyes wide and completely surrendering to you. “Take ‘em off, Bee, please.”

Your bare skin brushes against his while you shuffle backwards, slowly crawling down his legs all while marking his skin with kisses and teasing nibbles, until you reach his briefs.

Looking up at Bucky under your eyelashes, you blink sweetly, eyeing the sweat that begins to build on the ridges of his abs. Your breath ghosts over the material of his underwear while you ask, “Can I have your cock?”

“Oh, god,” he chokes out while his dick twitches in uncontainable excitement.

“I need your consent, Bucky.” The statement brings him back to the present, grounding him to the sight of you between his thighs and softly reminding him that everything is on his terms.

“Yeah,” he gasps. A few deep breaths cause his chest to rise and fall, steadying the rabbiting pulse in his neck. “Yes.”

With his confirmation, you slowly, gently ease your fingers underneath the fabric that hid what you truly wanted — the waistband slides easily down his tense thighs. Your eyes are focusing on the new inches of skin revealed, the sculpted line of his Adonis belt that runs down to the one part of his body you’re desperate to see.

Bucky watches you with bated breath — you’re so close to his cock, and it’s still not enough for him.

The small whine of frustration makes you flit your gaze upwards. A sheen of moisture shines over his eyes, and the pout of his lips are shining slick with spit — he looks absolutely wrecked, and you hadn’t even taken his hard cock from the confines of his briefs.

Deciding to put him out of his misery, you finally pull his briefs down until his twitching length bursts free of the material, standing tall and thick, curved and almost purple from the strain of arousal. Your eyes follow the veins trailing up his length, and you lick your lips once you spot a pearl of precum already forming from the tip of his dick — a sweet temptation that’s teasingly begging you to have a taste.

You’re speechless, literally awe stricken while you salivate over the length and girth of his cock. “Oh.” The slow blinks of your eyelids leave them hooded, but you continue to stare, hypnotised at the sight of your boyfriend’s huge cock.

“B— Buttercup?” he whispers, voice tense with worry after the few seconds of silence that stretch while you stare, transfixed. “Is— Is everything okay?”

You swallow, trying to rid the sudden dryness in your mouth. “Bucky,” you say roughly, and you look up into his doe eyes. “If I weren’t a more patient woman, I’d have your cock in my mouth and down my throat already.”

He sputters, the blotchy redness beginning to creep up from his chest to his neck.

“You’re so fucking big, baby. Holy fuck— how do you have such a pretty cock?” you wonder aloud.

“Shit, you can’t say that,” Bucky groans, squeezing his eyes shut as his dick twitches. The far more rapid rise and fall of his chest makes his stomach muscles contract and flutter — the sight lends ideas for the future idea of working him over into the line that blurs pleasure and pain, all to see how he takes it.

But you lick your lips, promising yourself to revisit that thought later. Tonight was about him.

“Fine. I’ll behave,” you tell him, waiting until his eyes open and focus on you before you grin wolfishly. “For now.”

Bucky’s lips part to speak, but before he can work the words past his tongue, you sit up and grab his hands, directing them to your hips and over the fabric of your panties. The hold you have over the back of his hands leaves him unable to pull away — not that he desires to.

The fabric glides over your hips with your guidance, revealing the bare skin. “Oh— Fuck,” Bucky murmurs, watching the journey the fabric takes until it lands on the floor next to your bed.

“Buttercup,” he gasps in wonderment. “You— You’re perfect.”

It’s difficult to remain confident while your boyfriend looks at you as though you put the stars in the sky just for him — like he’s seeing an angel. “You’re a true gentleman, aren’t you?” you laugh, trying to hide the way his stare makes you flustered.

“Don’t do that.” He shakes his head, his eyes soaking you in with such a reverence that’s dizzying. “You— Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m taking about because — Fuck. Believe me, you’re fuckin’ unreal.”

The world seems like it stops on its axis right then and there. You know Bucky’s emotions are heightened and at an all-time high, but you also know that he means every word of what he says — his sobering eyes tell you the truth alone.

You’re the one who becomes a stuttering mess for a moment, and you stumble over your words before you manage to regain your composure, and you clear your throat. “T— Thank you, baby.” The pause in heated touches gives you an opportunity to check in. “How are you feeling?”

Still trying to gain some semblance of control, he audibly gulps. “I— I’m good, yeah.”

“Yeah?” You begin to steadily shuffle forwards on your knees, further up his legs to hover over his crotch, careful to not let your body graze him just yet. “You know you can back out whenever you’d like, okay? You say the word and we stop.”

The small distance between your most intimate parts is dangerously in the balance.

“No,” Bucky says finally, shaking his head as his hair sweeps over his face. A few strands settle over his cheeks. “Wanna keep goin’.”

You bite your lip and smile wickedly. “You got it, baby.”

His bottom lip is trapped between his teeth as he watches you begin to lower your body. “We’re just going to keep doing what we’ve been doing, okay, baby?” You reassure as his breathing picks up.

But his eyes stay focused and fixated on you.

When your cunt lowers against the base of his cock, the movement pushes his length down until the tip almost reaches his belly button, and even with the visual of you resting over his length as you always did in the past, Bucky isn’t prepared for the feel of his bare dick sitting snug between your folds. His eyes shoot open while he gasps loudly and balls up the bedsheets tightly in his fists. “Shit, shit — Fuck, oh my— God—”

The palms of your hands smooth over his tense stomach. “Easy there, big guy,” you coo softly. “It’s okay.”

His breathing becomes erratic as his back arches against the headboard. “Oh god, you’re— You’re fuckin’ soaked, Bee.”

You are. Nobody else ever had this kind of effect on you, and so you certainly aren’t ashamed for Bucky to know how much he turns you on. “That’s what you’re doing to me, baby — Can’t help it,” you keen.

His chest rumbles while he groans deeply, throwing his head back.

The urge to move is compelling, almost swallowing you whole — Bucky isn’t the only one struggling to keep calm, with his thick length brushing your entrance and putting constant pressure on your clit, it’s a challenge to not take him then and there.

“Do you remember when we first kissed?” you ask breathlessly before you begin to squirm. “And I asked you to think about how wet and tight I’d be for you?”

Bucky’s muscles strain as he frustratedly tangles his fingers in his hair. “Fuck, I haven’t stopped thinking about it since, baby.”

Your hips work a little quicker over his cock, the slide seamless from how aroused you are, and to your surprise, you feel his hips work against you, too. “How does it feel to know your inches away from slipping inside my pussy?”

The rocking movements of his hips falter as he jerks up and jostles you, making the butterflies in your stomach flutter in a crazed frenzy. “It feels— Please— You’re killin’ me—”

“My sweet boy,” you utter. “Don’t worry, you’ll have it soon.”

Each and every plea and whimper that falls from his red-bitten lips only serves to turn you on even more. He tries to flex his hips to push his cock into you, to feel the warmth of your cunt around him, but even he isn’t ready for the sensation that ripples down his spine once the tip catches on your hole.

“Fuck!” he curses.

Hurriedly, you move yourself away before he can slip in any further. “Nuh-uh, sweetheart, I need you to be calm for me, alright? You can have me when you're calm, not just yet. Breathe for me.”

“No — I, no no, Bee, please, don’t do this to me. I want—” Bucky vehemently shakes his head from side to side, the vein in his neck almost popping from his exertion to hold back. His hands grip your waist, digging into your skin as he drags you back down onto his cock desperately. “Please, I wanna feel—”

“Oh, Pup,” you sigh with an all too innocent smile. “You wanna be a good boy for me, huh?”

“I can, I can,” he whines. The feel of his hands pawing at your waist sends a thrill up your spine. “Fuck, I can!”

“Yeah,” you mumble, unsure if you can hold out much longer yourself. “You can, Pup — I know you can.”

“Bee—” Bucky is a pure wreck, his chest heaving with breath, and a film of perspiration builds on his temples. You know it’s impossible for him to garner any more control, and you grant him mercy as you slightly lift your hips up to line the hole of your pussy up with his cock.

“Bucky, baby,” you call to him, waiting patiently until his wild eyes lock onto you, and you forewarn him, “You're sure about this?”

His bright blues cloud over with a haze of lust, and you shiver when he cries, “Please.”

“Okay, okay,” you soothe. “Alright, baby — Wait, hang on, sweetheart.” The bed creaks as you shuffle backwards once more. “Let’s get you off the headboard, so you’re comfier.”

The two of you move in tandem so his head rests back against the pillows, and you settle back over his hips, reaching out to smooth your thumb over his cheek. “Better?”

Bucky smiles and nods once, turning his head to kiss your palm.

“Okay.” You brace yourself with a steady breath, and finally sink down onto Bucky’s cock, the tip easing into your cunt with a pop. The stretch from his head alone has you squeezing your eyes shut, but you revel in the way he freezes under you, then the sluttiest whine you’ve ever heard falls from his slack mouth.

The effort to work past the thickness of his head causes your hands to rest on his stomach, allowing him to hold your weight, and your mouth falls open with a silent scream as you drop down further, taking more of his length.

Glancing down at your boyfriend to check on him, you find only the whites of his eyes through his hooded lids, and his fists balling so tightly in the sheets of your bed that they begin to tear.

With a whimper, your walls clench around his cock. “A— Almost in, baby.” Another inch fills your cunt. “Doing— Doing so well, Bucky,” you pant.

Your nails create indents into his skin while you internally build up the courage to take the entirety of his length. It feels an impossible task, one you desperately underestimated, but you were no quitter. Your walls rhythmically squeeze around him, and your breath hitches when you feel him twitch against the stimulation.

“God, I want you,” you moan, hanging your head. An unintelligible mumbled string of words or sounds fall from his lips in reply. “Fuck it.”

With a deep breath and a prayer for mercy, or strength, you arch your back — the wrecked moan that Bucky rasps sends a thrill of hunger up your spine. The slide of his cock against your walls makes you cry out, and you quickly drop your hips until you're fully seated against his crotch.

“Oh shit!” Instantly, Bucky shoots up from the mattress and wraps his arms firmly around your middle, crushing you against his heaving chest. “Don’t move, don’t move, don’t move — Please — Don’t fuckin’ move.”

You sling your arms around his shoulders in reply, and the two of you cling to one another with only your heavy breaths disturbing the quiet music in the background. The bare skin of your bodies sticks to each other, glistening in the candlelit room while the silent moments pass.

Hot, heavy breaths fan over the skin of your neck while Bucky nuzzles his face against the juncture of your shoulder — the movement effectively burying him entirely into your form. There is no way for him to get any closer, or any way to hide his muffled sniffles and gasps for air.

The beat of your heart steadies and thumps evenly — you pray that it is enough to calm his overwhelmed senses. “Steady, Pup — You’re alright, I’ve got you.” Gently, slowly, you comb your fingers through the damp strands of hair by his temples. “Just stop and let it happen, feel it, don’t fight it. It’s okay, baby.”

“S’too much, too much, Bee— Please, please, I don’t—” He stumbles over his words, working himself up.

“Bucky,” you say, firm but gentle, trying to reason over his rambling. “Do you need to stop?”

“No!” He holds you even tighter. “Please no, no no, don’t go, don’t move, don’t take— Please stay.”

“Hey, hey— I’m here, I’m here. I’m staying — Breathe, baby.” You rub your free hand over his back, shushing his pleas and continuing scratching your fingers over his scalp.

As you pacify Bucky, he begins to calm down — his breathing softens, the heightened intensity of emotions flowing easily into a quiet, content peace between you. Cautiously, you slightly lean yourself back and ask, “Can you look at me, please, sweetheart?”

It's a gradual process as he plucks the courage to lift his head out of your neck and surrender to your request, and your heart tightens when his teary eyes bore straight into your soul. “Oh, baby,” you sigh, bringing your hands round to hold his cheeks. “Was that a lot?”

Bucky timidly nods, his arms still caging themselves around your waist to keep you close.

“It’s okay — You’re okay, sweet boy — Doing so good.” The deep-rooted need to reassure him takes hold, an instinct that’s embedded within you to make him feel as safe as you possibly can. “Take your time.”

“Mm.” Bucky rests his forehead against your chest and listens to the steady beat of your heart, tethering himself back down to earth.

The charged air that holds the weight of tension finally breaks when he blows a long breath onto your skin. “This is— This is so much better than I imagined. Fuck, this is— Bee, I think I’m seeing stars.”

“Oh my god, you fucking dork.” Your laughter fills the room, full of pure happiness and glee to be able to find such fun in sex.

He smirks lopsidedly at you until you sigh, the amusement turning to fondness, and you kiss his forehead — almost able to forget the position you’re in.

But you’re soon reminded as Bucky quietly rasps, “Squeezin’ me so fuckin’ tight — Can barely breathe.” Goosebumps run down the naked skin of your arms at the same time your cunt pulses. He grunts deeply with a sharp hiss. “You really were right.”

“I did warn you,” you tease, giggling when he lifts his head up and playfully glares at you. Closing the distance, you kiss him deeply, sucking his bottom lip into your mouth as you whisper against his lips, “Ready for me to move now, baby?”

“Fuck yes,” he groans.

You don’t waste any more time. Tangling your fingers around the locks at the back of Bucky’s head, you pull and begin to smother his neck with wet kisses, the taste of salt delicious on your tongue.

Raising your hips, his cock slides out of your pussy, leaving behind a hollowness you crave to fill immediately. Without forewarning, you swiftly lower yourself, sobbing with pleasure at how perfectly he fits inside you. “Bucky.”

“I know,” he moans, long and low, sounding as wrecked as you feel. “Fuck, Bee — I feel it too.”

Words fail you, the delightful feeling you’ve waited so patiently for holding you hostage as you pant into his shoulder.

It becomes easier with each stroke to fuck yourself onto his cock, making sure to grind yourself deeper into his lap each time you come down.

“I— I can’t fuckin’ think straight.” Bucky’s palms slide over your ass and grip it firmly.

You laugh deliriously, high on the adrenaline coursing through your veins, and you barely notice the way you instinctively change the motion of your hips, beginning to grind into his lap in circular motions.

A strangled sounding moan causes your focus to snap towards Bucky. “Oh— Jesus fuck!” His fingernails dig into your ass as he hysterically pleads, “Like that, baby — Exactly like fuckin’ that.”

Huffing with a smirk, you breathe, “You like that, huh?”

“Yes,” he admits shamelessly. You start to speed your motion up, and the filter between his mind and lips completely crumbles. “Your— Your p—pussy feels good — So good. You have no idea — Shit — Keep goin’, please—”

The words tumbling from his lips are cut off when you push against his shoulders, sending him off balance to lay back down on the bed with a thump. Then, resting your palms on his chest, you lean forward to kiss him. You whisper against his lips, a sly smirk creeping onto your mouth, “Hold on tight, baby.”

Using Bucky as leverage to hold your weight, you begin to bounce on his cock. The position allows his length to sink all the way into you, his tip hitting your cervix at the right angle to make you whimper.

“Oh, it’s so— Fuck, I’m so deep— In you.” He struggles to breathe, the wind totally knocked out of him, but he’s mesmerised and completely drowning in the sensation.

“I know, baby — Stretching me out so much.” A fire simmers in your eyes. The muscles of your thighs burn with exertion, but you refuse to stop — especially not when your boyfriend is a fucked-out mess beneath you, trying to control the subtle flexes of his hips.

While you’re riding him, far too engrossed in making sure you keep the rhythm steady, you miss the feral glint in Bucky’s eyes. He’s possessed by the sight of your cunt sucking in his cock so deliciously; your slick dripping down onto him and coating his dick.

Licking his lips, his eyes lock onto your puffy clit, enlarged and throbbing in pleasure, and he inches his hand forward to experimentally swipe his thumb over your nub. His gaze snaps up to you with the unleashed moan you scream to the roof. “Fuck, Bucky!”

You're quickly pulled back forward as Bucky grabs you behind the neck, bringing you down to kiss him. His tongue slithers into your mouth, his muffled groans rumbling against your lips while he continues to buck up into you.

The need to catch your breath has you pulling away, gasping for air.

Bucky looks drunk — eyes hooded with a hunger blurring the blue of his irises and the black of his pupils. His pink swollen lips hang open, wet from clumsy kisses with too much tongue for his hazy mind to process.

You hang your head low between your shoulders and cry, “Why are you so damn big, baby?”

His hands slink down to your hips, and he gropes at the quivering muscles desperately. “Buttercup,” he tries to warn you — the cries over the size of his dick are sending him into a deeper pit of hunger.

Your head’s already too hazy to process anything other than the feel of his cock. “I’m aching, how the fuck am I taking you right now?”

The thrusts of Bucky’s hips speed up, and he bends his knees to plant his feet on the bed, his sole mission to fuck up into your cunt.

“Feel so fucking full, Bucky — Filling my pussy up so good.” The breathy moans fall like chants from your lips.

The steady, punishing rhythm you maintain falters, and your breath hitches when his cock slips from your cunt — the obscene, slick sound of it slapping against his stomach filling the room.

You pant and press your hands down on his chest while he groans to the ceiling. “Shit, I—” Bucky’s eyes glaze over when he looks down at his body, the twitch of his cock in time with the hammering of his heart under your palm. “I didn’t mean to—”

You can’t help but giggle, and the sound immediately calms his worries — the cinch between his brows smoothing over as he looks up at you. “Don’t worry, baby.”

The movement of your hand towards his cock has his entire focus — his tongue moves over his lips, and you watch the shine of spit; how it makes his lips an even deeper red. “Oh, fuckin’— Fuck.”

His exclamation makes you freeze. “What’s wr—”

It clicks.

Though you took him in your heat, felt the pleasure he can give you, the realisation hits you like a freight train that not once this night had you felt the weight of his fully erect cock in your palm; to wrap your fingers around the length and work him over.

“I can’t—”

“Shh, you’re alright,” you soothe, and carefully, you wrap your hand around his girth. Your eyes widen when you can only just connect your thumb and fingers together. “Fuck me—” you gasp, beginning to lift yourself up to line him up to slide back in. “God — You can barely fit in my hand, baby. Here we go.”

It’s unclear to you what exactly causes Bucky to snap.

The room whirls in your vision and you gasp with surprise as his body suddenly shoots up and with ease from the mattress, flipping you over in one smooth, fluid motion. “Oh, fuck!”

One second your back is resting against the mattress, over the rumpled covers, and the next, your boyfriend's hands are pushing your thighs as far up your chest as they can go.

“I’m so sorry, Bee,” Bucky groans, kneeling between your spread legs — one hand holds your legs in place, the other brushes featherlight over your soaked lips. The sharp gasps for air make his voice sound hoarse and raspy.

He stares down at your pussy, licking his lips. “I can’t—” The fingers that danced over your lips move to grab his cock, encircling it in his large palm before he rests the head of it against the fluttering entrance of your cunt. “I can’t hold back anymore, need this.”

He doesn’t give you a chance to reply — the tip of his thumb brushes against your clit and you keen upwards, just as his cockhead slips into you. The slide of him easing into you is smooth, and the drag of his length stretches you inch by pleasurable inch.

“Oh my fucking god, baby!” Bucky bites the inside of your calf while you whine loudly, your walls clenching down onto him — a tear rolls down your cheek, the size of him is almost too much. “Yes!”

“Fuck, s’deep. I gotta move, Bubs — Please, lemme move.” His weight shifts to cover you, pinning you against the bed while he leans close to pepper needy kisses and bites over the column of your neck.

“Do whatever the fuck you want, Bucky, please,” you beg, “I want it all.”

Raising your arms up to hold the headboard, you steady yourself for what is to come, and offer yourself to him on a platter, free for his taking.

Immediately, his eyes dart towards the movement of your tits, the natural bounce of them with every aborted thrust he makes. “Hnng— Yes,” he rasps. The slow thrusts turn rough, his skin slapping against the back of your sweat-slick thighs.

Your nipples, hard and pebbled, become his new target. “I want every fuckin’ inch of you, Bee,” he growls, swooping down and sucking your nipple into his mouth.

The room spins from the dizzying pleasure; the veins on his cock scrape your walls, his wet tongue playing with you, the hairs above his cock teasing your clit. It all begins to wind the knot tighter and tighter in your stomach.

“I need more,” you gasp while Bucky drags your nipple with his teeth and releases it with a wet pop. Your arms slither around his neck and bring him into your hold. “Fuck, Bucky, please.”

Corded muscles move you up the bed, and he forces his forearms under your back to hold you close. “Whatever you want, baby.” The fast thrusts slow to a deep, dirty grind — the length of him going deeper and deeper on each circle of his hips. “Gonna— Fuck, gonna give you anythin’ you want.”

The two of you crash your lips together and whimper into the other's mouth — heavy breaths and pants mingle while your combined sweat builds between your heated bodies.

“Wanna cum, Buck,” you plead desperately. “Want you to make me cum; feel s’good in me.”

A huff of breath fans over your lips, and a sly, lopsided grin pulls at the corner of Bucky’s mouth. The covers rustle and from the corner of your eyes, you see him planting a hand beside your head, next to your ear. “Don’t you worry,” he coos shakily through his grunts and moans. “I’ve got ya, Bee.”

His free hand drifts between your breasts and over your stomach, down to where you are connected. You gasp as the pad of his thumb settles over your clit, and he rubs in tight, fast circles, keeping pace with the thrusts of his hips into your pussy.

Your thighs begin to shake as you cry into his neck, “Please, keep going — Don’t stop!”

“Come on, baby,” Bucky coaxes gently. “You can do it. You can cum for me — C’mon.”

The tension in your stomach becomes unbearable — you slap the covers of the bed and ball them into your fist for something to ground you against the onslaught. “I— Ha, fuck!” You heave for breath, panting. “I’m gonna cum!”

“Let go — Can feel you, how tight you fuckin’ are. I’ll catch you, Bee.”

Your ears ring as your eyes roll to the back of your head, the pleasure insurmountable in its height, when it finally hits you. You convulse through the waves of it, letting it consume you whole while ragged pants for air and hoarse moans fall from your parted lips. “Baby, baby — I’m cumming!”

He still continues to fuck you through your orgasm until the last tendrils of electricity run their course, leaving you a twitching mess.

An overwhelming urge to be close to Bucky forces your hands to blindly reach out to grasp a part of him. The tips of your fingers graze the warm skin of his bicep, and he suddenly pulls away entirely — your cunt gaping and weeping at the loss of him.

“Pup?” You whimper. “Come back, what are you doing?”

“I’m h— Here, Buttercup,” he manages. Unknown to you, the feel of your walls fluttering against his dick almost had him finishing inside of you. His length glistens with your cum, and Bucky has to close his eyes tight and breathe to control himself.

Stubborn as you are, you intertwine your hands with his and pull him into you, smirking lazily at his shocked gasp when his cock grazes over your cunt.

Strands of his slick hair tickle your cheeks, and his cheeks are a deep hue of red. “Why did you stop, sweetheart?” you ask. The pupils of his eyes blow impossibly further. “You made me cum so fucking hard.”

You’re delighted to hear the whine he tries so hard to hide. “I— I panicked,” he admits. “You almost made me cum.”

Looking down, you see his cock twitching viscously, like he’s about to blow any second. “Aw, baby.”

You grab his length and start stroking him in your fist — the twist and pump of your fist making him choke and sputter. “Buttercup— What are you— What are you doin’?

“Go on,” you urge him, squeezing his thick cock at the base, and twisting on the pull upwards. “Cum on me.”

“I—” Bucky shakes his head rapidly. “No— I can’t do that — Fuck this feels too good — Can’t finish on you—”

“Bucky,” you gently interrupt him. “I’m telling you that you can.”

But he shakes his head again, trying to hold out. “Fuck, fuck — Oh, fuck — Baby I can’t please, I—”

You click your tongue and tighten your hand around his cock, pumping him harder faster, a spark in your veins and mischief on your mind. “Why not, hm? I need it — Don’t you want to give me what I need?”

“Bee—” he pleads. “Don’t do this to me.”

Though his words say one thing, the way Bucky thrusts into your fist tells you another — he’s dying to cum, the throb of his cock in time with his rabbiting pulse.

You refuse to have him holding back because the voice in his head is sabotaging his pleasure.

“Please, baby,” you beg of him, blinking your eyes and reeling him in on your invisible line. “I want it. Give it to me.”

Bucky bows his head, the curtain of his hair concealing his blown-out eyes. There’s a heavy sigh of defeat from his lips. “Fuck, Bee— What the hell are you doin’ to me?”

Biting your lip, you move the fingers of your free hand up the back of his sweaty neck to thread them through the hair at the base of his neck, and you pull him down to rest his forehead against yours. A wicked grin dances on your lips. “I’m gonna make you cum for me.”

As soon as the words leave your mouth, you speed up the pace, taking care to focus the pressure of your grip around the head of his cock.

“Oh—” Bucky chokes on his own spit, his toes curling while his hips work in tandem with the pumps from your fist.

“That’s it, Pup,” you murmur delicately, scraping your fingers over his scalp. “There’s a good boy.”

“Feels like fuckin’ heaven,” he slurs, whining as he seeks out your lips. “S’close, baby.”

You direct him, pulling him impossibly closer to slot your lips over his; tongue and teeth caressing with little finesse. “Give me it, Bucky — Please.” The words fall against his parted mouth.

“Gonna—“ The excitement for his climax builds when you feel his cock swell in your hand, the violent twitches of his mounting release. “Gonna cum, B— Buttercup.”

Lighting a fire to the match begging to burn, you tug his hair back in your fist, the grip tight and unyielding to bare his neck in an arch. The skin of his throat is damp with sweat, and the thunder of his pulse can be seen next to the frantic bob of his Adam’s apple. “Let go — Let go for me.” You lap at the sensitive skin with your tongue. “Make a mess of me with your big cock.”

The long wait, the weeks leading up to this very moment are entirely worth it when Bucky collapses onto you, his moans unending and agonisingly pleasureful. His hips stutter and thrust with no real rhythm while his cum shoots from the swollen head of his cock, painting your bare skin all the way up to your tits.

His release seems to never end, it pools over your stomach with no signs of slowing down.

Bucky trembles with the waves of pleasure, and he buries his face into your neck, nuzzling you to try and retreat from the nonstop sensation of release. Against the sheets, you can feel the way they rustle as his toes curl — the taut line of his shoulders makes him feel bigger while he shivers and jerks over you.

“Buttercup.” His palms frantically feel over your skin. “It won’t— Fuck — It’s not s—stopping.”

“Shhh,” you instantly soothe him, running your fingers through his hair and holding him close to you while you continue to pump your fist gently, milking him for all he’s got. “Almost there, Puppy — let it all go.”

Bucky sobs into your neck as the last few drops leak from his tip, and the pretty sounds of his moans vibrate against your chest. “Oh my god.”

“So fuckin’ good for me — Did so well, my sweet boy.”

Finally, his cock stops pulsating and begins to slowly soften in your hand. As carefully as possible, you remove your hand and smooth it over the heated skin of his waist. “Take it easy for me, baby,” you whisper, pressing a gentle kiss against his tear-stained cheek. “Remember to breathe.”

Bucky’s limbs loosen with the lull of your voice, and he eases his body down onto yours, letting you take his weight.

The two of you lay peacefully connected together, only your shared breathing to fill the quiet of your room. The needle on your vinyl long since raised, the song finishing with a gentle lull while you were wholly focused on him — much like the simmering high that had been building since your first kiss.

You are loath to interrupt the peace, but his heavy breathing told you that you will lose him to sleep any second now. “Bucky baby?”

When the rumble of his muffled, “Mhm,” tells you he’s returned back to you, you smile contentedly. “Do you think you’re able to let me clean you up now, hm?”

It's difficult to not laugh at the way he clings to you, tightening his hold and groaning, “No leavin’ me.” You smother the growing smirk creeping up your face.

The palms of your hands rub up and down his back, and you kiss the top of his head. “I’ll be quick, sweetheart. I promise.”

He sighs, much like a tired puppy, and begrudgingly slackens his arms and carefully lifts up off of you, rolling onto the bed next to you. “Hurry back, please.” The slight whine to his voice melts your heart.

“Thank you, baby.” You quickly shuffle off the bed, placing your feet on the floor. “I’ll be right back.” The floor creaks under your feet, and you rise from the edge of the bed, only, you overcompensate your judgement to hold your own weight so soon — the tremble of your thighs and weakness of your knees almost has you toppling to the floor. “Oh, boy.”

A snort of laughter sounds from behind you, and you look over your shoulder to find a dazed, smirking Bucky. “I did that to you,” he gloats drunkenly.

Your eyes widen in shock before you giggle along with him. “The cheek of you.”

Taking slow steps, you manage to make your way into your bathroom to retrieve a washcloth. You take the time to clean yourself up while sitting on the edge of the bathtub, smiling like an idiot to yourself and rebuffing the urge to squeal.

Upon walking out of the bathroom, your keen eyes catch the subtle peek Bucky makes through the mess of his hair, the wandering of his gaze over your still naked body.

The blush that covers his cheeks and neck when he sees that you have caught him staring is endearing, when only moments ago he was inside of you, desperate and moaning for more.

To humour his shyness, you choose to pretend you didn’t see, and you make your way back to him. It is a true struggle to not give in to the twitching strain of the muscles in your thighs, or how your knees almost buckle from under you.

“Here we go, baby,” you sigh happily, both from seeing his soft smile and how you made it to the plush mattress without falling over.

The warm cloth in your hand goes ignored by Bucky in favour of wrapping his arms around your middle, and he pulls you backwards into the covers until you are propped up on one side of your bed.

You hum warmly while wiping the mess of Bucky’s lower stomach, though you pause when you hover, uncertain, over his softened cock. “Am I okay to clean you up, baby?”

Looking up at you with his puppy eyes, he nods sleepily. “You’re okay, Bee.”

Taking care to be gentle, you wipe his most sensitive area and once satisfied, you toss the cloth towards the hamper of your room in favour of sideling up to Bucky. In the process, you turn onto your side and frame his face with your hands, waiting for his eyes to focus on you before asking, “How are we doing, handsome?”

The sound of his small laugh couldn’t make you happier, and his pearly whites gleam with his bright smile. “You’re gonna be the death of me, Buttercup.”

You giggle, a little high from the comedown too. “I take it that’s a good thing?”

He groans deeply and licks his lips. “Absolutely.”

You shiver and swat his chest. “Don’t be looking at me like that, you menace.”

Bucky hums sweetly. “It was amazing— No, wait. It was better than that.” His eyebrows furrow in thought. “It was — Um— Can’t think of the word — Oh, I’ve got it! Astronomical.”

Exhaustion is beginning to kick in for him, the very last dregs of his energy is being used to be a comedic clown — you fall for him even more.

A sudden, hesitant doubt creeps into his eyes, the need for reassurance coming forth. “Was it—” He pauses, his eyes searching yours. “Was it okay for you?”

“Oh, sweetheart,” you coo. The sheets underneath your body rustle as you lay down more comfortably, and you guide his head to lay on your chest, over your heart. “It was perfect — you were perfect.” Kissing the top of his head, you drive his worries away. “Trust me when I say it was fucking incredible.”

The tenseness of his muscles begins to ease away. “Thank you…” Bucky hesitates, then moves even closer to you — once he is close enough for his liking, he angles his head up to blink at you dazedly. The emotion in his voice makes it waver when he says, “Thank you for taking care a’me.”

“Always, my sweet boy.” You look down, watching his eyes droop. “It’s all I ever want to do.”

“You’re so amazing, Buttercup,” he exhales blissfully. “So lucky to have you.”

Your heart beats out of your chest. “I feel the exact same way.” Unsure you could handle any more of his sweetness, you mumble, “Now get some sleep, Puppy.”

“Hmph — Fine.” He gives in, finally closing his eyes. “G’night, my Bee.”

Resting your head on your pillow, you brush your finger over his forehead, sweeping his hair out of his eyes while you sigh contentedly. “Goodnight, baby boy.”

Warmth floods your heart and a happiness like no other fills your bones, making you glow from the inside out. You’re not sure this night could be any better, and with that thought, you know you’ll rest easy tonight with the man of your dreams huddled in your arms.

On the verge of surrendering to sleep, the quiet of the night is disrupted by Bucky's sleepy mumble, “I loves you.”

Your eyes shoot back open, and you instantly look down, finding your boyfriend’s cheek squished against your breast with a little bit of drool gathering in the corner of his parted lips.

“Bucky?” you whisper, the quick thump of your heart stealing your breath. There isn’t a response, not even a twitch of acknowledgement. With more urgency, you whisper, “Bucky?”

This time you get a small, soft snore in reply.

You lay your head back down onto your pillow to stare up at the ceiling. The thoughts and doubts swirl viciously, the intensity of each and every one making you gulp, though one stands out among the rest: did he just confess his love for me?

There was the possibility of you hearing things — the comedown of the high you’ve been floating on messing with your head.

It’s not long before all of the day’s events catch up with you. The slowing blinks of your eyelids lasting longer and longer each time; the laxness of your muscles as they settle in for a much-needed sleep. But the question on your mind bears a heavy weight while you succumb to sleep.

Does Bucky love me?

The rays of the morning sun shining through the white drapes either side of your window are the first thing you become aware of as you wake up the next morning. With your eyes closed, you can see the yellow and amber glow of the sunrise.

A strong envelopment of warmth and comfort keeps you rooted in place, as well as the heavy weight of an arm across your middle. You don’t want to move from your spot, you don’t want to wake up yet; still basking in the afterglow of yesterday’s events.

But the second sensation, the mantra of light fingertips mapping over your face tips the balance of sleep overtaking you in favour of letting your consciousness creep to the surface.

Lastly, the final push, the soft, steady puffs of air tickling your nose persuades you to wave your white flag and flutter your eyes open.

The blurriness of sleep forces you to blink until the fog clears your vision — once you’re able to see the dancing, warm light of the sun, you’re given the gift of your handsome boyfriend, already awake, admiring you with his bright blue ocean eyes.

They’re the most clear they have ever been.

The lined skin besides his eyes crinkle when he smiles, the pull of it making his nose scrunch adorably. “Bee,” he whispers, his voice rough from sleep. “Good mornin’.”

It's a damn killer, the expression of his face — full of true elation and contentment, and it has you falling in love all over again.

That’s when it hits you — the memory of last night, and what you think you heard him say when he was half asleep.

Trepidation makes your nerves impossible to conceal, especially when Bucky is noticing every minute expression on your face. It's only a matter of time before the natural courage, granted to you with the haze of the morning, fades away.

With a heavy gulp, you open your mouth and lick your lips. “Did, uh— Did you—?” The words die on your tongue.

Bucky’s thumb gently presses against your lips, his head gently shaking from side to side — a secret he wishes to keep just between the two of you, not shared with the birds that sing outside your window or the rays of the hopeful morning sun.

Your eyes are wide, beginning to water with the anxiety coiling inside your chest.

The crippling worry, however, dissolves when Bucky runs the pad of his thumb over your lips, the motion of back and forth touch grounding you. His eyes find their home deep into yours, and he finally speaks, “I love you.”

And it’s with an ease, one that has you cursing your inner voice for ever doubting yourself, you say those three words that battled to be said so, so long ago. “I love you, too.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x f!reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky barnes x reader smut #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfiction #new tricks masterlist #new tricks #sebstanwhore

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hyunsvngs · 8 months

Text

𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 - yang jeongin x gn!fem reader, lee minho x gn!fem reader

wc: 5.2k

cw: sex with no strings attached between mc & jeongin, some boy x boy action, established relationship between mc & minho, smut mdni

synopsis: you and your favourite boy have planned to take apart the youngest member of the frat - but the question is, what has developed along the way? your hot bitch summer has a high chance of being fully successful, albeit with some new feelings.

a/n: THE LAST PART OF HOT BITCH SUMMER OH YEAH WOO YEAH EVERYONE ENJOY! smut warnings under the cut!

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

sw: boy x boy action, threesome, dirty talk, sub jeongin then possibly a bit dom jeongin, jeongin's a virgin, loss of virginity, corruption kink if you squint, mc has a wap, oral (m rec), cumswapping if you squint, creampies, unprotected sex, sex with no strings attached

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You were alarmed.

Minho had invited you over, claiming he had ‘something you needed to see’, and when you asked if it was his dick, he said no. For the short journey to the frat house, you couldn’t help but contemplate what it was. Why was it urgent, too? You’d asked if you could just go tomorrow, but he wasn’t having any of it, claiming it needed to be done today.

You opened the door when you got there, sniffing at the prevalent smell of weed. Of course, Jisung was perched on the couch cuddled up to Felix with his hand in a bag of crisps.

“Oh, hey,” He said, cheeks red. “He’s upstairs.”

You nodded, feeling slightly miffed that your best friends were getting high without you. It was whatever, really - guaranteed they’d be knocking on Minho’s bedroom door in an hour to invite you. When you entered Minho’s room, he was sitting at his desk, scribbling away at a piece of paper.

“You’re here!” He spun on his chair, giggling. Okay, now you’re even more alarmed. What is he so excited for? You didn’t think you’d ever seen Minho this excited.

“Minho, I’m currently terrified,” You said, feet planted firmly on the floor. He just smiled again, bunny teeth showing and hopped up from his chair like he really was a bunny. Before you could say something else, interrogate him even, he was dragging you to the upstairs hallway.

You watched in shock as he grabbed a ladder, positioning it underneath the small hatch in the ceiling.

“Minho, do I dare ask why you’re taking me into the attic?”

“It’s a surprise,” He huffed, the typical scornful look back on his face. “The surprise is in the attic.”

“Are you going to take me up here and kill me? I’d rather know beforehand, y’know, so I could prepare-“

“Honey, if I was going to kill you, I would’ve done it a long time ago,” He replied. Quick as a flash, the smile was back on his face, and he was creeping up the ladder to push the hatch open. You sighed as he pulled himself up and into the attic, and then he was poking his head over. All you saw were two dark eyes and a mess of dark hair, and you grinned. He was so cute. “Are you going to come up or just stand there?”

You scoffed, and then followed his steps, climbing up the ladder. Minho pulled a cord from the slanted roof once you were up there, and then you were gobsmacked.

Fairy lights were strung up around the room, adorning a sun and moon tapestry on the wall. There was a bed pushed against one of the walls, looking newly-built and never slept in with cozy light pink bed sheets on. Most importantly, a little bunny teddy sat in the middle of the bed, looking up at you with its beady eyes.It wasn’t a big bedroom, but it had clearly been renovated for some reason or other, and somehow decorated exactly to your taste.

“Minho-“

“Ssh, let me speak,” Minho came behind you, wrapping his arms around your middle. You hummed, holding onto his wrists. You could feel the soft fabric of his dark green hoodie against your back. “You’re over here all the time anyway, right? I thought you may as well have your own space, should you ever need it. Like, if we argue or something.”

“This is for me…?” You asked, in a meek voice. You guessed as much anyway, but you needed it confirmed. Minho nodded against your shoulder, kissing your cheek.

“Of course,” He replied. Then, he shifted from behind you and coughed, clearing his throat. You turned to look at him, seeing the tips of his ears burning crimson and his eyes averted to the wall. “I mean, I just threw it together really quickly. We can redecorate if you don’t like it, or-“

“Minho,” You cut him off, kissing his nose. He scrunched it up, swatting you away playfully. “It’s perfect. I just feel so bad, you’ve done all of this for me when I spend most of my time here in your bed anyway.”

Minho chuckled. He pulled you over to the bed and you sat on the edge with him, giggling as he grabbed the bunny teddy and placed it in your lap. “It’s for if you ever need time alone, like I said. I know how nice it is to have a space to call your own, honey.”

Since fucking Chan in his car, one thing had been on your mind. You’d said you were close to Minho, and that had been how you’d put it. Now… seeing what he’d done for you, the bunny teddy included - it just looked so much like him - you needed to ask. So be it if it ruins the friendship - you’d harboured the feelings a bit too long to deny it. He’d been the one to start it all, kickstarting the crazy time you’d had in the frat and he’d been by your side all the way through it.

After all, all you’d really wanted was him.

“Min,” You began, emboldened by the sweet thing he’d done. Redecorating a whole attic must have been hard. “I… what are we, Minho? I kind of just need you to be upfront with me at this point.”

A beat passed, with no words spoken between the two of you. Your hands remained clutched around the bunny. Minho took a sharp inhale of breath. Then, he was laughing the type of full body laugh you’d only seen him do a few times. He threw himself on the bed, thrashing around in his laughter, and you swatted him.

“Don’t laugh at me-!” You squeaked, pouting.

“No, no, I’m sorry, honey,” He pulled you into him, chest still shaking. “It’s just really funny. I mean, I thought we were together this whole time.”

You blinked. Together? “But… I’ve been fucking your friends.”

“You’re the only one I’d trust to fuck all of my friends, dummy,” He said, kissing your forehead. “Also, God knows I get off on it massively. You know it’s a kink for me, my partner fucking my boys. It’s hot as fuck smelling them on you.”

“Oh,” You said, intelligently. Minho chuckled again, brushing your hair out of your face when you looked up at him. “So, we’re together.”

“I think we have been, haven’t we?” He murmured, eyes gazing directly into yours. It made sense, so you nodded. You’d just been extremely fucking dumb. What was new? You suddenly noticed your surroundings, though.

“Minho,” You began, and he hummed in response. “We’re on a bed.”

He blinked, and then he was smirking. “Yeah. That we are, huh?”

You licked your lips. “It’s a new bed.”

“Yup.”

“Let’s christen it.”

Minho practically pounced on you. “Abso-fucking-lutely.”

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

You were in that exact room a week later, flicking through one of the romance novels Seungmin had recommended when you saw a head burst through the hatch. Unsurprisingly, it was your boyfriend. Minho fell onto the floor as soon as he came through.

“He said yes,” He breathed, panting heavily. You raised an eyebrow.

“Why are you panting so fucking hard?”

“I pulled myself up here without a ladder,” Minho explained, wiping his forehead. “I got too excited because he said yes. He’s pretty damn excited about it, too.”

You raised an eyebrow, bookmarking your page and shutting your book. Seungmin would murder you if you dog-eared his precious book. “Sorry, Min, what are we talking about again?”

Minho shot up, glaring at you. “Um, Jeongin? Obviously.”

You gasped. Jeongin had said yes? You were going to complete your hot bitch summer, and it would end in taking a virginity. But… was Jeongin seriously comfortable with it?

“Is he… is he sure?” You asked, uncertain. To some people, losing their virginity is a serious thing. Jeongin may be one of those people.

Minho scoffed. “He’s been hard ever since you started fucking around. He’s been waiting, honey. I mean, I think he would have rather been involved with the orgy we had, but…”

“Oh, fuck. We totally should’ve invited him,” You gushed. Minho nodded, shrugging. He was still on the floor. “Anyway, he wants you to be there?”

Minho nodded. “He’s pretty excited about that, too.”

Picturing the two men together, you couldn't help but grin. "Okay, so when? When does he wanna do it? Like, tonight?"

Minho shoved your shoulder gently, shaking his head at you. "He's not the only one who's excited, hm?"

"I'm not gonna pretend to not be excited, Min. We get to fuck a virgin together! I know you're fucking thrilled too, don't act so nonchalant."

"Alright, alright," he conceded. "Anyways, tonight works for him, if you're up to it. Well, as soon as possible, really. You wanna make him wait for it?"

You considered this briefly. "I don't know if I can even make myself wait for it. I wanna shower first, though."

"Sure, go get ready." Minho began to head down the ladder.

"Don't you dare start without me!" You yelled down at him.

"Jesus, Y/N, some of us can keep it in our pants for twenty minutes," You heard him mutter snarkily as he descended.

The whole shower you were excited. It was hard to keep from slipping on the tiled floor as you rushed around, shaving and moisturising specifically to rock Jeongin’s world. You had to make his loss of virginity an amazing experience.

Arriving at Minho’s room in your towel, you opened the door and were met with a delectable sight. As the door opened, Jeongin sprung apart from your boyfriend with blushing cheeks and wide eyes. He looked flustered, caught in the act by you, and Minho sat nonchalantly.

You pouted, clutching onto your towel. Your hair dripped wet droplets from your shower down onto your chest, and Jeongin’s eyes followed the journey. “I told you not to start without me, Min. You said you could keep it in-“

“Couldn’t help myself,” Minho replied, shrugging. “He’s a good kisser. Also, nothing’s escaped my pants.”

You tilted your head to the side, sizing up Jeongin. He was cute, annoyingly so in his joggers and loose t-shirt, and he was pitching a sizable tent. You had to know what you were dealing with - a full on virgin, or had he done a little something before?

“Innie?” You mused, and he stared at you owlishly. “Have you seen a pussy before, baby?”

He shook his head. “Never. I really want to, though.”

“I bet you do,” Minho hummed, pulling Jeongin over to sit between his legs. You watched in awe as Minho kissed up the column of Jeongin’s throat, making Jeongin bare his neck in acceptance. His eyes were soft when he looked at you, but you could see something beneath them - something wanting, needing. Minho nipped at Jeongin’s earlobe, and then he spoke again. “Why don’t you drop the towel, kitty?”

You smiled, reaching up to undo the knot in the plush white towel. It fell to the floor in a heap, just in front of your feet and in between the two boys perched on Minho’s bed. Jeongin’s jaw dropped.

“C’mere, kitty,” Minho murmured, and you raised an eyebrow. “Come lay on the bed and let me show Innie how to play with a pussy.”

Well, you were definitely down for that. The blankets felt a little awkward with your body still being slightly damp, but you wriggled around until you were comfortable anyway, head back against the pillows. Minho’s bed was way too familiar to you now, and you revelled in the familiarity while doing something so new. You kept your legs shut, watching the two boys turn towards you with eager eyes.

“Spread your legs,” Minho commanded, and you obliged. You let your thighs fall apart and Jeongin’s eyes immediately fell to the wetness between your legs. “You see that, Jeongin? You’ve made it wet, yeah?” Minho chuckled and leaned in closer, his hand running up your thigh. He leaned in and kissed you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth. You felt yourself getting wetter as Jeongin's eyes watched the two of you kissing, his body shifting on the sheets.

You pulled away, grinning at Jeongin. “Do you want us to teach you what to do?”

“I- I mean, yeah, that’d be good,” He cleared his throat. “For future reference, and everything.”

“Okay,” You giggled, nodding. “Come and kiss me then. That’s a good start, no?”

Despite being the one to ask him to come and kiss you, you wrapped your hand in the fabric of his t-shirt and pulled him towards you. Jeongin squeaked, and fell on top of you, right between your spread legs. You let out an amused noise when his eyes seemed to dart between your face, your tits and your pussy, now pressed into his bulge, and then you were pulling him down by the back of his head.

Minho was right. He was a good kisser. He seemed to like the push and pull, being dominant one second and then letting you take the lead within seconds after. You let your hand run through his dark locks, pulling on it just a little, and Jeongin let out a low groan of approval. Minho chuckled next to you. Jeongin’s hands, however, seemed perfectly stationed either side of your head on the pillow. He was being respectful, but it was perhaps a bit too respectful.

“Jeongin,” You whispered against his lips. He raised his eyebrows, showing you he was listening. “Who taught you how to kiss? You’re an insanely good kisser.”

Jeongin laughed, a cute, melodic sound. “Hyunjin.”

Makes sense. “That’s cute, Jeongin,” You smiled. “Did he touch your dick, too?”

“Straight to the point,” Minho mused. You gave him a glare, side-eyeing where he was palming over his trousers. You wanted to touch him, but no - you had to focus on Jeongin for now.

“Mm, yeah, he jerked me off,” Jeongin nodded, and in a bold move for him, he leaned down to press a few kisses against the column of your neck. “Minho’s jerked me off before, too.”

You turned to Minho, lips parting in shock. Minho merely shrugged. “He has a nice cock. Jeongin, strip.”

Jeongin leaned up, looking at Minho in bewilderment. You chuckled, running one hand down his clothed chest. “I don’t need foreplay, Innie. Other people probably will, for future reference, but… I get too desperate and impatient. So, yeah. Get naked. Please.”

“Oh. Right. Okay, yeah,” You watched in glee as Jeongin yanked his t-shirt off, and then your jaw dropped. Jesus, was he always that built? You’d never really noticed, only seeing him as a cute guy with a lot of love for his friends and a hate for being called a baby. His skin was pulled tight around very, very sculpted abs - ones that could actually rival Chan’s if Jeongin decided to show them off more. You hoped he would. Letting one hand run down his abs, you hooked your fingers into his joggers, and pulled the fabric down - boxers too, because you really were known for being impatient.

Wow. Jeongin’s dick was hard and standing at attention. You licked your lips when you saw the short, dark curls at his base, framing a thick, average-length cock. The tip was ruddy, flushed and leaking precum in pearlescent drops that made you need him inside of you. You reached down and took him in your hand, stroking him lightly. He moaned in response, hips kicking up into the friction, and you pulled him closer, your other hand caressing his cheek. You smiled and leaned in for another kiss, feeling him harden even more in your grasp.

“I want this inside of me so bad,” You murmured. He sighed, although it was more like him choking on air. “Do you want to fuck me, Jeongin?”

“God, yes, but-” He cut himself off, turning to Minho. Minho raised an eyebrow, hand still stroking over his clothed erection. “Is it… okay if I go in without a condom? Is it okay with you?”

“I don’t think I’m the right person to ask, Innie,” Minho chuckled, finally pushing his joggers down. Your mouth watered when you saw his erection, familiar and just as exciting as the first time you saw it. Jeongin turned back to you, his eyes fixated on yours.

“Fuck me raw, Jeongin,” You nodded. “I want to feel you, all of you.”

Jeongin sighed, and then he positioned his length at your entrance. His cockhead was thick, and you could feel the heaviness of it before he’d even pushed in and entered your pussy. He left it at your folds for a second, just resting against you, as if he didn’t know what to do. You shifted your hips, hoping to get him inside. The movement was too quick, however, and his cock dragged through your pussy lips without breaching.

“You’re too excited, kitty,” Minho murmured, hand stroking over your hair. You huffed, and he chuckled. “C’mere, let me do it.”

You watched in awe as Minho wrapped a tight fist around Jeongin’s length, positioning at your drippy hole. It was a shock when Jeongin finally let his sexual urges take over, pushing in fully and bottoming out in one thrust. You jolted, whining at the stretch.

“Fuck, Innie, you're thick. You've got a really nice dick, you know that?”

He let out a strained laugh, abs tensing above you. “I've been told.”

“Like this, Innie,” You went fully pliant as Minho pushed your legs up, letting Jeongin use his weight to enter you deeper. He started to thrust into you, sharp and strong albeit clumsy. The friction against your g-spot made you wail, eyes bleary with the feeling of uncalculated thrusts so deep inside of you. “Feels better like this, yeah?”

“Oh, this is wet,” Jeongin blurted, and it was almost like a question, his facial expression in disbelief. You really were wet, from the thought of taking someone’s virginity and the feeling of his cock pressing into you. Not to mention your boyfriend being so close to you, jerking his beautiful cock watching his girlfriend and his friend writhe in ecstasy. Jeongin was whining, hips sharply hitting against yours. “Fuck, I’m in so deep, it’s so good-”

It was good, almost too good - you loved watching Jeongin fall apart above you. It was like he couldn’t handle the pleasure he was feeling, little sighs and sharp grunts falling out of his lips. His eyes were dazed, staring down at you but unfocused as he focused on chasing his high. He had no clue what he was doing, but it somehow made the situation sexier - you were showing him how to fuck a pussy.

The knowledge that it was his first time, that you were corrupting someone previously so innocent and cute had you clenching around his cock tightly. You could cum just from this - something you’d discovered when fucking around with the others - and it wouldn’t take long, your thoughts running rampant and whines tumbling out of your mouth.

You whined when Jeongin slipped out from you clenching so tightly, his hair wet with sweat and his eyes watery. Minho scoffed, one hand on Jeongin’s hip to push him back in.

“Get back inside there, Jeongin,” He commanded, his eyes dark as he stared at Jeongin’s dick. It was wet with your essence, the tip leaking pearlescent droplets that you wanted inside. “You were going to make that pussy cum. You need to get back in if you want to learn.”

“I- I can’t, hyung,” Jeongin whined, shaking his head. He was crying now, fat tears dripping down his perfect skin. You moaned, one hand stroking his hair back to see his cute face. He was pouting, eyes sending a million apologies to you. “It’s too wet, I can’t. It’s too much, I’m gonna cum-”

Minho’s hand reached down and wrapped around Jeongin’s dick, pumping the length steadily. You gasped, lips parting as you watched Jeongin’s hips attempt not to fuck up into the tight ring that Minho had formed around the base of his cock. Minho gave him a few strokes, firm and tight, and then he was tapping the head of Jeongin’s cock against your clit.

“Ah, h-hyung, that’s good,” Jeongin wailed, and Minho smirked. His thumb swiped over the head of Jeongin’s cock, inadvertently rubbing over your clit too, and you jolted.

“I need it, Innie,” You pouted, staring up at him. He let his eyes meet with yours, his bottom lip quivering. “Please. Please, I need it, I’ll cum on your cock, I promise. It’ll get wetter, but you can handle it, I swear-”

“Fuck, fuck! Okay, okay,” Jeongin shook his head in shock, and then he let Minho push his cock back inside of you. Immediately, he was resuming a blistering pace inside of you, mindless and set on making you cum. Minho’s hand reached up to rub circles around your clit and you moaned loudly, trying to ignore the cramps in your legs from having them pushed back for so long. Jeongin grunted when you clenched around him, his facial expression wild and lustful. “Oh my God, I think I’m going to cum.”

“Make your partner come first, Jeongin,” Minho chastised, and you whimpered at the dominant tone of his voice. You could feel your eyes rolling back into your head, toes curling as you got closer to your peak. “It’s not gonna take long. See, look at their eyes.”

Jeongin blinked down at you, hands moving to your hips to try and keep a steady rhythm. He’d slowed down a little, trying to avoid his own orgasm, but Minho’s fingers more than made up for it. “You look so pretty.”

It was silent for a beat, until Minho chuckled. “Aren’t they pretty? Fuckin’ gorgeous, makes my dick so hard it hurts.”

“M-Min,” You whimpered, trying to focus on his body next to you. His fingers were slipping around on your bundle of nerves with how wet you were, but it did the job. “‘M gonna cum. Can I suck you, Min, please-“

“No. Focus on cumming on his cock.”

“God, if it gets much tighter I’ll cum,” Jeongin keened, his head dropping to your neck. You let your fingers run through his sweaty strands, kissing his cheek affectionately.

“Cum with me, Innie? I’m about to cum, you can let go,” You began, speaking through stuttered breaths. Jeongin’s hips hit a particularly hard thrust inside of you, and you almost screamed. “You can- oh, oh, I’m there, oh!-“

Jeongin groaned, eyes focused on you as he watched you squirm through your orgasm. You could feel the wetness gush from your core, soaking his cock until it was drenching the hair at the base. You wanted to lick it clean, but you couldn’t focus on anything else - because he was cumming inside of you. Hot wetness flooded into your core, gushing out to mix with your own and all you could do was keep yourself pliant and take it. His dick slid out of you with the wetness, your pussy clenching at the loss.

“Shit,” Your chest heaved, blinking over at Minho next to you. He rewarded you with a deep, passionate kiss, his tongue swiping over yours. You moaned against his lips, hand moving to grab his neck and pull him tighter to you.

“Um, Y/N?” You pulled away, looking at Jeongin when he spoke. “I don’t know how, but… It's still hard. Can we-“

“You’re fucking the biggest slut I’ve ever met, Jeongin. Of course they’ll want to go again,” Minho mused, and you nodded, smiling. “Flip onto your front. Show him how deep it can go.”

You obliged, flipping onto your tummy and arching your back for Jeongin to slip back inside. The slide was wet, noises chiming around the room with the sound of yours and Jeongin’s cum mixed together. It was so dirty, and it had you whining into the pillow, reaching over to grab Minho’s hand.

“Please, please, Min-“

“I’m not fucking telling you again,” Minho grunted, his hand tight around the tip of his cock. You licked your lips, fixated on it. “Stop being so greedy. You already have a cock inside of you.”

You swore you could hear Jeongin chuckle, and then he was groaning. His large hands splayed across your ass, bringing you back onto his thrusts and you couldn’t help but moan - who the fuck taught him that? You let your hips bounce back against him, skin sticking to his with how fucking wet everything was. His thrusts increased in pace, and you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge. Your head was spinning and your heart was racing as you felt yourself getting closer and closer to cumming around his cock for the second time. You felt Jeongin's grip tighten on your hips, and you knew he was close too as you felt his thrusts grow more urgent.

“Minho,” You whined, looking over at him. He scoffed, and then he was moving, sitting in front of you with his cock in your face. He’d given in - you let yourself smile at the success, and then you were running your tongue over his balls, moaning. You engulfed his cockhead with your mouth and Minho’s hips bucked, his hand going to the back of your head with a groan.

“Look so pretty with a cock in your mouth,” Jeongin mused, his hands gripping your asscheeks. His balls slapped against your clit with a filthy wet noise, making you clench and suckle on Minho’s cock just a little more. “Can’t wait to fill you up again. God, you really are a slut, aren’t you? Do you want my cum again?”

“Jesus, Jeongin,” Minho chuckled, but his voice was strained. You giggled, dipping your tongue into Minho’s slit. “He’s a fuckin’ animal. I knew it. Smack her ass a bit, Innie.”

You squealed around Minho’s length when Jeongin raised one large hand to smack down on your ass, the flesh rippling. You bucked your hips back more, asking for another hit, and he obliged. His cock was so hard inside you and the slaps were heavy, painful on your smarting skin, and you loved it.

You didn’t think you could handle it much longer. Minho was so beautiful above you, his feline eyes narrowed and plush lips kiss-bitten as he stared down at you sucking his cock. His chest was covered in a blotchy red rash, showing his pleasure, and you let your jaw go slack.

“G’na fuck your mouth as you cum,” Minho groaned, and you don’t think you’d ever seen him this stuttery and horny in the whole time you’d been fucking him. He was falling apart. You hummed around his length, and he used your head to bob your mouth up and down on his cock. Being treated like a fuckdoll, spitroasted by your boyfriend and his friend was enough to have you clenching down tight on Jeongin again. Minho grinned at your facial expression, your eyes rolled back, tightening his fingers in your hair. “They’re gonna cum again, Jeongin.”

“Fuck. Yeah? You gonna cum again?” Jeongin asked, his cock repeatedly ramming into your g-spot. You didn’t even think he knew he was doing it, but you wailed in response nonetheless. “C’mon, flood my cock again. It felt so fucking good last time.”

You were done for. Your pussy clenched around Jeongin once more, walls fluttering as you let yourself go into your orgasm. Jeongin rewarded you with another smack to your ass, and the sensation had you cumming even longer - had it been a minute? An hour? You honestly weren’t sure, but it felt so fucking good you couldn’t find it in you to care. Minho grunted, and then he was holding your head down and spilling hot white warmth into your mouth. You swallowed it down dutifully, licking your lips, and then you were being flipped over again.

“Kiss me,” Jeongin urged, his hand pushing your thigh up again to fuck you deep. He was a quick learner. You grabbed him by his neck, letting your tongue lick over his. You knew he could taste Minho. That’s why he’d asked you to kiss him. Your pussy was sensitive now, after two orgasms, but you let him fuck you senseless nonetheless. Jeongin moaned, his lips barely brushing against yours in the exchange of spit and you could feel him getting close, his dick twitching in pleasure inside of you. You let go of his neck and grabbed his ass, pushing him in to cum even deeper than the first time.

He positively wailed as he came for the second time, his head dropping to the crook of your neck again. His body was squirming, twitching through his high, and he was gripping your hips way more than was comfortable - you knew you’d have bruises tomorrow, but it was worth it.

Once he’d filled you up, Jeongin dropped to your other side, chest heaving.

“Good first time?” Minho questioned, a smile on his face. Jeongin huffed, slinging one arm around your waist and laying his head on your shoulder. You accepted the cuddle, even more so when Minho sidled up to your other side.

“Good is an understatement,” Jeongin responded. His breath was so close you could feel it tickling your neck, and you giggled. “I’m still pissed off that I wasn't invited to the orgy.”

You hummed. “There’s always next time.”

Jeongin perked up at that, his smile wide. “You mean… you’re not planning on stopping even after having us all?”

Minho chuckled, kicking you playfully. “I don’t think they could stop even if they wanted to. My baby’s a whore.”

˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

“You better not be planning on keeping that pussy all to yourself, Minho,” Jisung grumbled. He was shoving forkfuls of cereal into his mouth, and you had strong deja vu. You’d definitely been here before.

“I couldn’t even if I tried, Sungie,” Minho responded, pressing a kiss to your lips. You wiggled with glee from your position on his lap, and he chuckled. “I’m not planning on it, anyway.”

“Great,” Felix responded, elbowing your side softly. “I didn’t get my turn alone. People had to interfere.”

Seungmin scoffed. “You were touching each other up in the living room. Did you really expect us to turn a blind eye?”

“I suppose it’s better than a car,” Chan mused. You almost choked on your cereal, Minho patting your back soothingly. You heard Changbin mutter something along the lines of ‘or a gym’.

“I’m so proud of you,” He murmured into your ear. You smirked.

“I don’t think that’s something a normal boyfriend should be proud of, Min.”

“Yeah, well - we were never meant to have a normal relationship, were we? Remember, this all started from you saying you desperately wanted to fuck me.”

“Don’t remind me.”

Jisung giggled, beaming over at you both. “I still think that’s the best thing I’ve ever done. Look where it got us all.”

You hummed. You supposed you did have Jisung to thank for all of this - and your hot bitch summer had ended brilliantly, with a boyfriend you were borderline in love with even after fucking all of his frat brothers.

It couldn’t be any better for you at this point.

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certifiedfreec · 3 months

Text

・❥・close - gojo satoru x f!reader (crossposted on ao3!) ・❥・

⊹ oh nooo you’re trapped in a hotel room with gojo… and there’s only one bed… ahhhhh

⊹ 18+, smut, frenemies to lovers, a ridiculous amount of banter

⊹ word count: 9.8k (i’m so normal about him lol…)

“Well fuck.”

Mouth agape, you stand tiredly beside your overly cheeky partner-in-exorcises, surveying the last available hotel suite that’s closest to your current assignment. Cramped could describe it if you’re feeling generous, as the sparse amenities make the single queen-sized bed in the center of the room look like a California King. The overblown stock photos of generic flowers hanging haphazardly above the bed are nearly mocking the otherwise drab room, and the dim lighting makes it all look more dingy than romantic given the scenario you’re in.

One bed left in this overbooked “hotel…” This has to be a fever dream.

“I call the left side!”

Said partner, Satoru Gojo, is oblivious to your inner turmoil as he languidly steps into the room with his singsong tone, surveying what little it has to offer with an otherwise calm expression. God, this guy gets on your nerves, but not for any pertinent or extravagant reason. Really, he just carries himself a little too cockily for your taste, like he’s used to people fawning over him for doing nothing. While you work well together for the most part, there’s something about his presence that just makes you-

“You can take the whole thing,” you grumble dismissively, carefully moving around him to set your backpack down on the warped work desk. You’d sooner sleep in the bathtub even if it was soaking wet, you think.

Your eyes nearly fall out of their sockets with how hard they roll when you hear him let out a feigned hum of disappointment. You can sense him studying your every move, even through that stupid blindfold thing he’s always got on.

“Bummer. You scared you’re gonna catch some cooties? I’m not contagious.” Gojo tuts playfully, shaking his black jacket off and tossing it over the back of the chair. “Guess that means more room for me!” He wastes wastes no time in flopping onto the middle of the stiff mattress with a grin, and part of you can’t help but admire- no, simply notice, you tell yourself- how his shockingly white hair and pale skin contrasts the dull, dated comforter. He’s got a white button down on, and you’re tempted to call him a bloodsucking vampire with how translucent he looks. Humming to himself, he reaches for the remote that practically shrinks in his large hands, clicking the clunky TV on and watching it take a few minutes to whir to life.

You’re unsure what to do with yourself, but you’re determined to put some space between the two of you with whatever happens. It’s unfortunate when you realize that you really might not be successful with that endeavor, given your dwarfed hotel room that could trigger any sane person’s claustrophobia. It didn’t help that this guy already took up most of the lackluster room with just his body, either. Your eyes flicker over to your work partner, who appears unnervingly okay with this turn of events. With a deep sigh, you pull out the creaky chair and slump defeatedly onto the desk. You’re careful to scoot to the edge of the chair so your back doesn’t make contact with his resting jacket, and he doesn’t miss your obvious attempt at distance. It’s known by many that he’s always been a huge fan of himself, and you’d be damned if you ever let him think you were part of that club, too.

“Hey, careful with the outerwear.” Gojo’s selectively ignoring your clear discomfort, opting to poke at you anyway because he just does that. “That’s a pricey jacket, y’know.” His face is serene as he’s clicking through the available channels and making his own little noises when each show is less intriguing than the next.

“Right… I’ll try my best,” you reply disinterestedly with a yawn. You rest your face on the cool wood- anything to mentally take yourself out of the painfully tiny space you and this massive human were expected to share for the evening. It’s been a long day of mundane yet necessary work, and apparently the real work is supposed to happen tomorrow. Being instructed last minute to change your stopping point for the day, you were left with no choice but to call around in a new area until you found an option. Gojo simply shrugged and started searching, not even slightly irritated at the change of plans. It irks you how little your colleague is bothered by, well, anything, because it has to be disingenuous at some point, right? Over time you’ve realized that with him, it truly is a brazen confidence- a kind that you decided was more dangerous than reassuring in reference to your line of work. It’s just unnatural- then again, nothing in your field is, so what’s your real issue with him? The question always leaves you befuddled at your core, and now it’s glaring in your face with the close quarters you’re sharing.

After some time spent listening to Gojo’s disjointed chuckles at whatever was playing, you take out your phone to text Shoko about your dreaded situation. This’ll be a long night, you think, grasping at straws to reason that it’s only temporary and that the smell of his spicy cologne will soon fade away from your senses. You have to say though, the scent fits him pretty well…unlike this miniature room you’re both posted up in.

Your eyes betray you when they briefly flit over again at the man lounging across the bed. It’s quite the spectacle, as the ends of his gangly legs and feet are dangling awkwardly over the edge, yet his expression is serene. The word "cute" passes through your mind and you immediately shush it by reflex, but it’s not as strong as the newfound proximity that prompts you to finally tease him in a dry tone: “Jesus, you’re taking up the whole thing and it’s still not enough.”

“Tell me about it.” He’s quick to react to your statement, and you swear you see his broad chest huff with amusement out of your peripheral. “It must be the price to pay when you’re a dreamy, charming, six foot three Jujutsu Sorcerer,” he adds in a lighthearted tone that seeks feigned sympathy. You’re not looking at him anymore, but you can guess that he’s batting the long white eyelashes that decorate his electric blue eyes. Meanwhile, you’re battling a smile.

Shoko’s not answering your SOS texts, so you actually decide to take the bait in the meantime. “You poor thing,” you coo halfheartedly, “It’s just never enough for you.” You shift, draping your arm over the back of the cheap desk chair that warps under your weight.

“You’re so right! I’m glad someone finally understands.” He points a finger at you, clearly pleased that you’re bantering along, and then he rests that same finger on his pointed chin. “Speaking of nothing ever being enough, I’m starving.” He suddenly sits up, making the bed creak with his movement. It’s apparent that his focus has shifted from the lifeless television show to you. “Who delivers around here?”

Gojo’s nonchalant behavior has the opposite effect on you- it’s disconcerting. At the same time, a very quiet part of you wants to warm up to the idea of finding it endearing. Being annoyed by him was all you knew- how could you ever change now?

The noise that escapes him is pure juvenile glee when you wordlessly open up a delivery app on your phone and sling the device over to him, which he catches with ease before scavenging through the limited number of nearby restaurants. If anything, you’ve never seen him so locked in. You hear him murmur his commentary to himself as he swipes through, picking out his order from his spot on the bed (which is basically the whole thing), and then he abruptly stands up with a matter-of-fact tone in his voice. Without watching him, you hear his steps move somewhere behind your seat.

“Hey, your girlfriend Shoko is texting you. I had no idea I was such a hot subject! Well, maybe I did.”

Oh shit. The heart that previously resided in your chest has plummeted to your stomach. You completely forgot you’d been virtually begging her for moral support when you first arrived at your shoebox of a room.

You muster all your inner strength to maintain a semblance of cool. “Is she on her way to save me?”

The grin on his face is nearly glowing as he reads your screen. “Hah, you wish. It says, and I quote, ’Sorry I’m just now seeing these! How are you and your “Honored One” doing? I promise he’s not as bad as you think he is, LOL.’”

You can feel all the blood in your body rush to your face as Gojo continues to read the message, who is doing everything to refrain from bursting into a fit of laughter. “’At least he’s not the worst looking, and you guys are gonna have to share a bed anyway. Wink emoji, wink emoji.’”

Your world comes screeching to an ugly halt. In this moment, you remind yourself to never text Shoko while you’re in the same room as him- ever again.

“Oh my god… You’re lying. Stop it!” You feel a wave of sickeningly nervous giggles threaten to rack through your body as you fly out of your rickety seat, marching over to the lanky sorcerer and swiping at him for your phone. He tsks, holding the device up from your reach with a mischievous tilt of his head, and you’re sure that you’ve never been this flushed with humiliation before. His muscled arm holds your phone up revealing the chat, and unfortunately, he wasn’t lying. And his voice? It’s smug, obnoxiously so as he taunts you. “This is so much more interesting than ordering food right now. I think I’m gonna answer her. What should I say?”

“Give it back, Satoru Gojo.” You glower up at him, silently knowing your efforts are futile due to your drastic height difference- and that goddamn Infinity ability of his that he loved to show off.

“Oooh, don’t say my full name. It really scares me,” Gojo gasps mockingly before making a show of squinting up at the screen and beginning to type with his other hand. “Let’s try this.” His fingers begin to dance across the screen. “’Shoko, I think I might be falling for Satoru Gojo, all six foot three of him. We’ve had such a romantic evening-‘"

“Jesus Christ, hand it over already!” You’re reaching your limit with tolerating his antics, body teeming in some liminal space between annoyance and mortification. You stretch up again to try and pluck the phone only to make contact with nothing. Fucking showoff. He’s still got his blindfold on, and you’re unable to see how his eyes are completely shimmering with mirth and self-satisfaction.

“Aaand, sent! I think she’ll like that. Anyway, go ahead and add your order to the cart. It’s on me- I remembered to bring the JuJutsu High credit card this time!” Gojo carries on casually like he hasn’t just done the equivalent of planting an explosive in your text messages, feeling incredibly proud of himself as he plops the phone back into your open palm. Glaring up at him and his resilient grin, you are entirely uninterested in eating any kind of food right now. He thinks it’s kind of cute how quickly your face turns ruby red.

You stare at your violated device, blinking in disbelief before looking back up at him. “You’re a real motherfucker, you know that?” You challenge, though your voice isn’t as hostile as it should be.

His large hands fly up defensively. “Whoa, who says I don’t go for daughters either?”

He’s maddening. How do his students stand him? Your free palm has never moved so fast to your face. Resolving into your clunky self-assigned seat, your butt collides firmly with cold wood. “You’re right. Who don’t you go for?” You huff.

Gojo chuckles with his whole chest as he moves to sprawl out over the miniature bed, returning to the original position he was in before he hijacked your text conversation. With blindfolded eyes focused back on the hazy television screen, his hands lock behind his head as he shrugs indifferently. “Never been a big fan of Geminis, to be honest.”

Unreal. He could talk to you in circles like this forever, and only because he knows he gets under your skin that way. You resign, eyeing your phone screen and scrolling through the restaurant he picked to order delivery from. He’s got quite the spread in the cart, complete with an elaborate dessert that could’ve wiped out your savings account.

“Clearly a fan of cheesecake though, holy shit.” The jab doesn’t come out as mean as you intend it to, and honestly, you aren’t sure how much longer you’ll be capable of treating him with this much animosity. You’re already tired, and if you were any more awake you’d realize that your work partner was slowly wearing your guard down, quip by cocky quip.

“Right again. Don’t you just love getting to know me through our intimate time together?”

Shoko is spamming you with an endless barrage of confused and shocked emojis, and you’re far too sleep-deprived to reply. Your entire body flushes at his words as they reverberate in your mind. Intimate is not the right word. No, it shouldn’t be, more like invasive. Right?

“Couldn’t be happier,” you reply curtly, mindlessly picking out whichever menu items are at the top before punching in the room number and credit card info, which was smoothly slid onto the table by Gojo without your prior notice. With your back to him, his gratification is on full display as he pretends to watch whatever crappy show is playing. Winning is his favorite thing in the world, and grating on your nerves is a close second- though really, the two coincide. Part of him wonders how much further he can blur that line.

——————————————————————————————————-

The comically large bag of food is immediately torn open by an eager Gojo the second it lands on the hotel room’s table, and he’s forking together a messy array of sides onto his plate before dragging over a lounge chair from the corner next to yours. He’s sitting far too close for your comfort, but you begrudgingly comply. It wasn’t like he was going to go away anytime soon, even though the night would be so much easier that way. As he shovels his dinner into his mouth, your mind aimlessly ventures as to how he keeps his form so trim with an appetite like that. He’s got to have a strict workout regimen somewhere, though “strict” is a word not often associated with him-

“Hey, your food’s gonna get cold if you keep staring like that.”

Your eyes widen in record time. It’s a hideous realization that you’ve zoned out on watching the renowned sorcerer-turned-temporary-roommate inhale his overpriced dinner, all from being overcome with either exhaustion or acceptance of your cramped situation. At this point, it’s maybe a little of both.

“Sorry,” you mumble, not even caring to articulate a more acidic response. It seems you’re beginning to neutralize into Gojo’s presence, and he mentally takes note of your changing chemistry with him as you quietly stab at your steak bites.

He’s got the perfect opportunity to coo something vain back, like “Don’t apologize, I’d stare too if it were me,” but he doesn’t. He simply keeps eating, sparing you with a less than uncomfortable silence. It’s never been the worst thing between you two given your extensive work history, and you feel yourself soften slightly when the bland hotel room’s air isn’t filled with his assumptive commentary for once. As your plates both get emptier, he feels this sudden need to hold your attention, as you’re less likely to be as combative as you’ve been before. You’re... not so set on hating him.

“You tired?”

Gojo’s two-worded inquiry jars you, almost to the point of choking on your bread. It's something genuine. He closes up one of the empty to-go boxes and shoves it into the takeout bag before pulling out the monstrosity that is his slice of cheesecake. For some reason your heart stammers at how refreshing the possibility of a real conversation with him could actually be.

You’ve got the perfect opportunity to snap something defensive back, like “Yeah, of you,” but you don’t. His shiny eyes shift under the fabric of his blindfold to you, almost prompting you to answer.

“…Yeah, I must be making it pretty obvious,” you say, unintentionally yawning and proving his point. If you were any more relaxed with him, he would’ve told you how cute you looked doing that. You secure your leftovers and start to chuck them into the bag before a large hand suddenly stops you with a “gimme” motion.

“Judging by how easily you’re willing to waste that perfectly good food…it’s not hard to tell,” he prods at you with a grin that you would’ve unnerved you earlier, but at this hour it’s a little more welcoming. Is that a snicker that comes out of you? You hand over the half-eaten order of steak bites to his jubilation, and he’s already popping open the lid to pick one up with his fingers.

Curse your brain in its exhausted state, because it’s nearly hypnotized by his digits. They’re long, dextile, confident somehow. They’re slender and defined, yet capable of serious damage- this you know all too well, and that excites you more than it should. The slice of meat dwarfs in his hold, its shiny reddish myoglobin starting to trickle down his hand and wrist, and it decorates his fine veins and tendons there with its sheen…

No, there’s no way you’re jealous of a piece of meat right now. Did you seriously feel a flutter somewhere that you shouldn’t? Satoru Gojo is literally eating your leftovers with his bare, grubby hands, and you’ve made the fatal error of finding it attractive. Yeah, you’re definitely sleeping in the bathtub tonight before your conflicted mind wanders any further.

He munches on the remainder of your dinner before finally digging into the cheesecake, and you feel blessed for the distraction from your shifting thoughts when you two chat about the mission at hand tomorrow. Is he worried about the curses you’ll be dealing with? No, of course not. According to him, he’s only worried about messing up his hair. Oh, and that expensive jacket you were careful not to touch earlier. With that all that added up, maybe he is nervous about it.

When the conversation dies down, the only sound in the unimpressive hotel room is the game show now playing on the practically vintage television. You quietly scroll your phone while your colleague digs into the soft dessert, stopping suddenly to stick his fork out to you.

“Want a bite? And before you say no, I already told you my cooties aren’t contagious.”

Is this real kindness? You whip your head to face him, studying the glob of caramel-drizzled sweetness, and he’s waving the fork around like a magic wand complete with some convincing “whoosh” sound effects. It’s even more comical with the way he fills his seat, almost like he’s sitting in a doll’s chair. The sight beside you makes you stifle a laugh, and in that moment you realize something: while he constantly irritates you, Satoru Gojo is the brightest, liveliest thing in that damn room. It’s not saying much given the plain wallpaper, dull sheets, and dusty furniture, but it all amounts to him looking pretty good despite your surroundings. If you weren’t sober right now, you’d admit that he looks pretty good just about anywhere. He’s so unfitting, literally, in the drab, cramped space that you almost want to let that very laugh out.

“Eh…I don’t believe you, but even if they weren’t... I couldn’t avoid them in this room anyway,” you joke sleepily, reaching for the fork and pushing the bite of cheesecake past your lips. He’s sitting pretty close, near enough that his spicy cologne still dances in your senses, but if he were any closer you’d swear you could spot him watching how your lips attached so tightly around the plastic silverware. You’re trying desperately to avoid the fact that sharing the fork was like indirectly kissing him, because if you think about it long enough it’ll make you blush all over again. So much for keeping a distance between you two.

You realize something else: he might’ve had a point with his dessert selection. “That is pretty good,” you commentate, handing him back the fork. There’s almost a soft expression on his blindfolded face when he wordlessly pushes the rest of the heaping slice between the two of you, as if the sugary dessert could substitute for a peace treaty. This is how all truces should go, you silently decide.

“Here, have some more in case you die tomorrow,” Gojo tuts with a grin, knowing fully well that you’d be perfectly fine during your assignment the next day. He loves to poke at you, but he can also recognize all the hard work you do. Hell, putting up with him was a full-time job, he could admit.

Your mouth flies open to let out a lighthearted “You asshole,” and you reflexively move to smack his shoulder. You’re even more shocked when your palm actually makes contact with the muscle there..as is he.

Gojo had turned his Infinity off. He must’ve gotten so caught up in wanting to break down your guard this evening that he neglected to remember his own.

“No way, I actually landed a hit on the Satoru Gojo,” you beam. Triumphantly taking another bite of the cheesecake, you feel his gaze train on you. His face-chiseled, you have to say- is conveying something unidentifiable. There’s some surprise and some amusement, but there’s another emotion lingering in the slight rise of his light eyebrows and his relaxed jaw. Something deeper, almost longing. It honestly concerns you for a moment, but he’s quick to recover by slumping backward over the chair, clutching a hand where yours landed just seconds before.

“Abuse! How dare you!” He declares, gripping his shoulder in the throes of his dramatics. “Yaga will be hearing about this. I’m reporting you to the higher-ups!”

“Don’t even. I’ll tell them you sabotaged my technology then,” you counter, waving your phone. “Oh, and that you misused company funds.” You point accusingly at the heap of cheesecake between you both. “And then we’ll both get fired.”

His fists hit the table as he falls forward dramatically. “Ugh…But then we’d end up living here,” he sighs woefully, “and that would be the worst part of all.”

You openly crack up at his refreshing honesty, finally recognizing this room for the shithole that it is, and you feel a newfound warmth spread throughout your chest. “Hmmm… But then we could keep ordering this cheesecake.” Maybe you like bantering with him, you decide.

Gojo chuckles as he stands up from his seat, dragging it back to where it resided in the corner and going along with your bit. “Not if we can’t ‘misuse our funds,’ you tattletale. We better start thinking of a side hustle to keep our lifestyle going.”

There’s a certain weight to “we”s and “our”s that make your heart palpitate just the slightest. It’s like a promise of a future together, a future beyond the uninspiring walls you were forced to rest in tonight. Still in your fit of tired giggles, you close up the remainder of the dessert before sticking it in the hotel room’s loud, antiquated mini fridge. The change of pace between you both is almost freeing, allowing you to consider the idea of actually sleeping somewhat soundly tonight.

“Well, you ponder on that. I’m gonna get ready for bed.” You’re quick to tuck into the bathroom as your laughter dies down, taking your bag with you to switch into the pajamas you packed. All the while, you’re secretly wondering what the sleeping situation is going to look like. You know you’re desperate for rest and given how the evening between you two has warmed a little, the idea of sharing the tiny bed with Gojo is…less than awful to you now. You step out, only to gasp when said man is right outside the door. He’s leaning against the frame with his own bag slung over his shoulder, grinning wickedly and looking all too smug

“My turn, princess. Coming through!”

The novel nickname flutters through your system as he squeezes past you, closing the door in your face with another low chuckle. God, he’s an idiot, you think with a smile, opting to perch in the seat he used for dinner until he returns to the room.

You’re playing a mindless game on your phone when you hear the bathroom door squeak closed, and Gojo plops back into the stiff bed. There’s no shirt on his sculpted body, only a baggy pair of black pajama pants whose waistband barely kisses his narrow hips. Humbled is an understatement when you try not to ogle at the sorcerer before you, whose murder you were secretly plotting just hours before. The skin on your face is akin to the Sun’s surface as you summon every ounce of will not to stare, but his Six Eyes promptly detects the sheepish change in your demeanor.

“So, you sharing this thing with me or what?” He looks over at you in the chair as he stretches over the traverse of the mattress, head propped on one hand while the other toys with his blindfold. “Since you don’t seem to care about my cooties anymore.” The repeated movement of those long, deft fingers looping around the fabric is enough to conjure a flashback to him eating those damn steak bites, and you feel hot all over again. It shouldn’t be suggestive, it really shouldn’t, but the way he’s talking makes it seem like he wants you beside him.

You rest your chin in your hand as you reply with a frown, pretending to think, “Hmmm. That’s gonna be a tight fit.” He snorts in response, something devious but expected on the tip of his tongue, and you realize it as soon as you answer. “Don’t even say it, Gojo.”

He feigns surprise, scooting over and patting the pillow beside him. “Pffft. When have I been known to say anything out of pocket?” He can’t deny the thought of fitting tightly somewhere else, his aqua eyes flashing with a desire he’s never allowed himself to feel for a long time. “Listen princess, you’ve only got two choices for tonight, so pick wisely. There’s somewhere tight-“ he pats the pillow again, -“or somewhere wet.” The thumb previously tugging on the fabric around his eyes jabs toward the bathroom door.

There’s that nickname again. “How erotic,” you snicker, wordlessly complying and letting your exhaustion guide the way to the empty side of the bed. It’s not a ton of space, but you’ll do your best to make it work. Carefully, you slide in to avoid touching him, realizing just how difficult that task is going to be in your limited amount of territory. Should you make a pillow border between you two? No, because then that would take up even more precious space. Maybe if you bunched up some of your blanket-

“Alright! Wait till Shoko hears about this!”

Gojo visibly approves of your choice as he watches you timidly sidle in next to him, wearing that stupidly eager grin on his face and whooping like a sports game attendee. Shooting him a playful glare and an “Oh, enough with you, Six Eyes,” you feel the cool sheets hit your skin, and your body erupts in goosebumps through your thin-ish shirt and shorts. You quickly face the opposite way as him, but not before stealing another glance at his ridiculously toned chest and stomach as he reaches to turn the bedside lamp off. God, he smells so good, like minty toothpaste and his cologne. Darkness abruptly envelops you as your heart pounds, and you have a horrible thought: Who said I wouldn’t be wet sleeping here?

You hear Gojo release a barely audible sigh, almost as if he’s tentative to fall asleep beside you too. He’s not sure who to trust less, you or himself, but he hides his apprehension with a couple more quips as you settle into the compact mattress.

“You have any idea how many people would pay to be where you are right now? You are so lucky.”

He could talk in circles with you again for hours if it meant prolonging the inevitable vulnerability that is unconsciousness beside another person- though a deeper part of him reasons there’s nothing to worry about. Maybe there are other things you could do instead of talk, he thinks, doing little to shake the idea away. It’s kind of nice, way more than nice, the image of you all spread out below him-

The eye roll you respond with is felt by him but not seen in the lightless room. Clouded by an atypical hunger and pure fatigue, you murmur back, “Don’t worry, I tip well,” and a smug smile forms on your face. It’s kind of fun getting to poke back at him. That’s all it is, right? Harmless banter. Gojo senses your intentions on a level unbeknownst to you, though- and he’s not entirely upset at them.

“Listen to you! That was smooth. I just might give you a discount for that.” You hear the sheets rustle beside you, and you slowly turn. He’s fully facing you, boyishly propping his head up on his fist with his near-glowing eyes now exposed. You notice that his blindfold has now been placed neatly on the outdated nightstand. He’s keenly tuned in on you, finding your pajamas a little too cute for a pre-mission night of sleep. It’s clearly getting more difficult for him to deny how entertained he is by the sight of you all snuggled in on your diminutive side of the crappy hotel bed.

You pretend to cover your eyes after seeing his finally revealed to you, feeling thoroughly proud of yourself for matching his energy now. “Put those LEDs away, good lord,” you joke, allowing yourself to let out a sleepy laugh as you pull up the covers to give your bumpy skin some salvation. His intentful gaze is already doing plenty to send heat throughout your limbs though, and the act of grabbing the blanket is an effort in vain. As your eyelids flutter with the weight of tiredness, you understand just how close you two are in the moment. Mentally, you were so much farther away earlier in the evening than you are now- and it takes a second for you to process that you actually like the change.

Gojo laughs softly, and you can hear the late hour begin to seep into his tone. It grows more throaty, lower than before, and it’s entirely too pleasant. Part of you wonders if he’d consider the proposition of reading you a bedtime story. There’s a lingering tension in the air, nearly tangible, and it shifts when you note how his eyes flicker all over your face. Eyes, lips, back to eyes, back to lips.

“Maybe I wanna look at you a little longer. Are you gonna report me to the higher-ups for that, too?” Gojo bats his icy white lashes, his oaky scent further settling into the sheets. The only light in the shoddy room comes from his vibrant irises, and they’re spotlighting on you with piqued interest. The light has always come from him, and it’s an epiphany that has you scooting an inch closer.

“If those things blind me, I will.” You exhale through your nose, partially wishing you could reach out to the heat that radiates off his halfway bare body.

He blinks, and you swear the room flashes dark again for that split second. “Well, y’know, that might be a good thing,” he tries to reason lightheartedly, in a volume just above a whisper. “You wouldn’t have to look at this ugly room anymore.” You watch his hand- the same one you nearly salivated over earlier- land in the limited space between you two, almost as if it wants to cross that border. It takes the most willpower you’ve ever needed not to stare at it, feeling your face flush with a sick anticipation. “I’d be saving you.” Maybe it’s what he’s always wanted to do all along, you both think, and it encourages you to be just as coy back.

In this moment, you feel bold enough to say something you thought would never leave your mouth: “But then I wouldn’t get to look at all six foot three of you.” You pout sarcastically, and Gojo gets the urge to kiss it right off your face. His grin is proud; it’s everything he never knew he wanted to hear.

Your teasing is like a silent permission for his hand to move closer to you, and your entire body stills when you feel it land gently on your lower thigh to play with the frilled hem of your shorts. Must be a pattern of his, you realize. He chuckles, and the sound is so low that you can practically feel it.

“Hmm… You’re right. Again.” Your work partner’s head tilts down slightly at you, and his expression is overcome with what can only be described as relief. “Guess I need to save you some other way.” He notices the goosebumps adorning your figure, and suddenly you’re pressed up against his broad chest. God, he’s so warm, you don’t even realize the way you’re curling right up into him. Somehow, despite your height difference, you fit perfectly along his lanky frame.

“Better?”

You are tired, fatigued beyond belief, but you’d be stupid not to stay awake to experience Satoru Gojo letting his guard down for you. Perhaps this dismal hotel room was a test of will for you two, and while you’re not entirely sure what denotes passing or failing, you do know one thing: Satoru Gojo is unbelievably comfortable to cuddle with.

Still…you wonder what would unfold if you pushed further.

“Hmmm… still not warm enough.” The words leave you before you can tame them, and the unspoken invitation behind them makes his eyebrows raise. The hand playing with the fabric of your shorts squeezes into your skin just the slightest, prompting you to look up at him where you see no reserves on his handsome (God, it’s good to admit that) face. His soft pink lips hover inches from your own, drawing closer like magnets.

“Really.” You feel a thumb rub slow circles along your outer thigh. “I can fix that for you, yeah?” His words shoot straight to your core as his head ducks a little lower, just breaths away from yours.

Well, you’re definitely not tired anymore.

“If you’re still offering that discount…” you breathe out. A rush of smugness allows you to bring your hands to his toned chest, traveling up to trace his defined collarbone. His skin is soft, almost velvety, most likely from years of keeping his perimeter so trained to avoid any unnecessary contact, and the act of smoothing your fingers over it becomes soothing.

Gojo’s lopsided grin conveys the desire he’s suppressed for so long, seemingly caught up in this new dynamic with you. “Nah, we’ll put it on the credit card,” he finally laughs before confidently pressing his lips to yours.

He is an entirely new taste, and you’re not able to reference his movements to anything or anyone; it’s another level of tact and precision. Did he plan this? His kisses are the perfect mix of messy and firm, and it’s clear he’s doing all but holding back. Something unlocks as he goes through the motions, maybe the realization of the snapped tension or maybe the feeling of you kissing back just as passionately, and his mouth soon scatters everywhere from your lips to your jaw to your neck in a flurry of teeth and tongue. He’s somehow magically in tune with your most sensitive areas of the exposed skin as his lips wander, leaving you to grab his firm bicep and cling as if he’s grounding you to the earth. The details of the dingy hotel room are completely abandoned as you feel your senses envelop, finally, with all that is Satoru Gojo, and there was truly no beauty greater than that.

Chest heaving, you almost let out a laugh at how rapidly the night has shifted. His well-trained hands travel, one squeezing the tissue of your breast over your thin shirt while the other dances just below the leg of your shorts. With all walls down, it’s pointless to hide the effect his touch has on you. If his hand moved any higher, he’d discover how wet you were- part of you dreaded how inflated his ego would become after that, but the other, hungrier part of you needed him to do it.

“Anyone ever told you-“ Gojo breathes out between his attack, brushing a thumb over your hardened nipple, “how pretty you are?” He is all too focused on drinking in your features, finding your weakest and favorite points. Your back arches ridiculously easily into his touch as you struggle to find the words to answer him.

“N-no one else that’s mattered.”

You’re sure his ego will balloon rapidly upon that little admission, but you partly didn’t care- not when he was capable of making you feel so unbelievably good.

He’s rightfully amused at how blatant your desire is now. “Oh? So I do matter to you then.” His other hand roams up your thigh, threatening to reach where you wanted it most. You snicker before a shudder erupts from you when a long, hot stripe is licked down your neck and over your shoulder, and it’s all you need to swing your leg over his, straddling him on the stiff, narrow mattress. The flex of his abs as he sits up to accommodate you is nothing short of poetic, and you find more prose in the clouded, desperate fog of his azure eyes when he watches you with curiosity. He immediately rests his grip on your waist, pressing you down gently onto what can only be described as a monster underneath his sweats. You understand now why he carries himself the way that he does: He’s fucking huge.

You push your chest against his, unable to stop the twitch of your hips when you feel Gojo’s hardness brush against your heat. The wetness of your arousal is sure to be felt through the fabric, and he’d be silly to halt your admittedly cute display of attempts in chasing just an ounce of pleasure. Your flushed face, furrowed eyebrows, small noises, it’s motion picture to him. However, he selfishly wants to be that pleasure for you, and he’s quick to slide a hand down your body to cup your pussy through your pajamas.

Your jaw goes slack as Gojo’s hand makes contact with your most sensitive area over your shorts, and the circles he rubs help him collect some of the condensation from the fabric. It feels good, but not good enough, and you can’t help but huff at the restricted movement. He is all too cocky when his hand pulls away, eyeing it with an intense mirth.

“Damn, waterworks, you always get this wet?” He’s half-amazed and half-amused as he studies his glistening fingers, his other hand gripping at your ass. “That’s so hot.”

“Shut up, Satoru.” You smack his bare shoulder before burying your face into it, feeling your cheeks turn crimson. He chuckles, finding you adorable when you’re embarrassed yet hating that you feel that way. He knows just how to help you get over that, and he starts by slowly sliding his body down, holding your thighs spread as he maneuvers his head onto the flat-ish pillow. You glare down confusedly at him in his newfound position, only to meet with eager cerulean eyes that are practically begging to pull you closer.

“Fine then, I’ve got other stuff I wanna do with my mouth anyway,” you hear him murmur from between your thighs, and his hand brushes over your clothed, throbbing cunt again. “Now sit, princess.”

“Huh? No, you won’t be able to breathe, I can’t.” Your head shakes vigorously in disapproval. Not that you didn’t want them there, but there was no way… you’d probably end up suffocating the guy, and while you had a more murderous urge to do that earlier this evening you’d much rather-

“Fine with me, now lemme taste you,” Gojo insists with almost a whine in his tone, not letting you respond before pulling the soaked crotch of your shorts to the side and licking a long, forceful line from your hole to your clit. You moan when he does it again, and again, feeling your knees weaken to finally sink yourself onto his mouth. The groan that vibrates against your nerve endings makes you look down, only to see his frosty white lashes flutter as you fill his senses. This was well worth the hours of wearing down your resolve this evening.

His movements become frantic, desperate to experience you now that he’s let his guard down this long with no dire consequences. You feel his tongue lap at your sensitive clit, and his lips kiss in your heat so loudly and wetly that it sounds like a porn scene. Your hands fly to his ivory hair, gripping till his scalp stings. This makes him groan again, and you can barely control the way your hips start to rock along his mouth.

Gojo breaks away for a split second, tongue dragging along your inner thigh with his cock nearly in pain because of he’s got you where he wants you. “Just like that, baby, ride my face,” he huffs quickly before returning to flattening his tongue along your clit. You feel him squeeze the cheeks of your ass, forcing you onto the hot muscle and encouraging you to continue.

He seems to be breathing just fine, you realize- which of course he is, he’s Satoru fucking Gojo- he could handle just about anything. It gives you the confidence to rut your hips forward, moaning louder when his lips wrap around your overstimulated nerve and suck hard. You earn a playful smack on your ass when his name slips out of your mouth, and the stinging sends you further into your frenzy for pleasure as you start to build up a pace. It’s addicting, really, the way he’s lapping and sucking at your aching cunt like it’s his favorite dessert, and you’re suddenly thankful that he has the appetite that he does. He breaks away for a second to spit into your heat, spreading your slick folds wide with those deft fingers of his, and that only has you rocking harder along his mouth when he reattaches himself. To him, you are so much better than any sweet he’s had.

You don’t even realize you’re doing it, but you’re tugging Gojo’s snowy tresses in shallow efforts to further bury his face in your cunt as you ride it, and he’s all too happy that you’re using him in this way. As his tongue prods up into your tight entrance, he feels his cock throb again at the prospect of how it would feel inside of you. He groans at the thought, and you feel it all the way up in your ribcage. He’s already picked up on the fact that you’re close, judging by how your frantic movements have sped up and the way you’re babbling incoherent praises that only make him ache more.

“Fuck, Satoru, feels so- good- please…”

When Gojo lets out a little laugh at that, you feel your slick dribble messily down your thighs. That hot, blinding pressure grows stronger under your navel when you grind harder on his tongue, threatening to spill over when he starts to flick it along your clit to match your pace. It all feels so deliciously good that you pay no mind to his nails digging into your flesh, his own way of ensuring he’s leaving a mark- as if he hasn’t decorated your neck in shades of blotchy fuchsia already.

“I’m-so-close….”

He gives your ass another smack with your breathy cry, looking up at you with eyes that nearly beam. You look down while your hips continue to drag along his tongue, finding him just so damn pretty while he’s eating you so good, and you ease your fingers in his hair. That impending sensation grows stronger, and he quickly parts from your lips to murmur confidently:

“I know, princess, I got you. Lemme have it.”

His choice of words and the way he immediately goes back to lapping at your heat are both more than enough to have you coming apart around his tongue in mere seconds. There is nothing in your mind’s eye but Gojo as your high overtakes you, fizzling through your being and prompting you to cry out his name as if it’s a chant. He soaks it all in, helping you ride out your release before slowing to kiss his way back up your body. You’ve never come that hard- and somehow, he senses this too. Your legs feel like jelly when he’s finally face-to-face with you, and his is glistening with your arousal. If he wasn’t desperate to be inside of you right now he could do that for hours, he thinks.

You lean in, capturing your lips with Gojo’s and wrapping your arms around his neck to kiss him deeply. Your own taste on your lips does little to dissuade you from him, and for the next few moments, you both feverishly rip off whatever clothing is still unfortunately on your bodies. He, as gracefully as he can given the annoyingly small hotel bed, maneuvers you onto the pillow so you’re lying on your back, and you feel his heavy cock hit your stomach. He pauses for a second to study your features, finding that every inch of you is worth burning to memory. You’re stunning like this, all sticky and flushed and needy, and it’s all because of his efforts. He’s only more gratified when your mouth flies open at his impressive size.

“You're kidding. That's not gonna fit,” You sputter, still in your post-orgasm daze, but you feel your hole clench around nothing when you notice the filmy drops of pre beading around his thick tip.

His laugh is genuine, almost melodic as he pumps himself a few times. “Such a downer. We’ll make it fit, ‘kay?” Gojo promises with a goofy grin, letting his hand wander along your bare nipples and stomach before eventually revisiting your now sore cunt. You hiss in delight when he slides one of his long fingers in, and your legs spread automatically at the intrusion. Even in the most cramped bed ever, you’d realize you’d make room for him anywhere. You reach out, dragging your hand along his chiseled stomach, nearly in awe at how firm the muscles are there. He’s like if art was living, breathing, unrestricted from a canvas or frame.

Your hand slides further, silently encouraging his own to move so you can take over stroking his hardened cock as his finger curls along your hot walls. You moan quietly, watching his breath hitch in his broad chest- he’s not sure whether to watch your face or your movements, and there’s an eagerness within him that amplifies when he sees how tightly you’re sucking in just a digit of his. His hips jut forward slightly when your thumb brushes his sensitive tip, and he finally decides to look into your eyes. You stare back, wanting to say so much about how his are the perfect shade of blue.

“Y’know why I harass you so much?” He asks in a tone that reaches a new level of softness for him, and you entertain his question as he slowly introduces a second finger. The stretch is delicious, though you think it’s doing little to prep for the monstrosity that awaits you.

“‘Cause you’re Satoru Gojo?” You reply before letting out a hiss at a particularly sensitive spot he hits within you.

He snorts. “Well, yeah, and ‘cause I think you’re pretty. Inside and out. Gorgeous, actually.”

You blush a little at how he turns a silly banter into a very real confession, and you watch his eyelids flutter again. Actually, you feel kind of bad for being so lighthearted while he was being serious- that was his thing, anyway. Times like these were what made his bluntness endearing, and he continues, beginning to align his length with your dripping entrance after slowly removing his fingers.

“So, lemme prove it.”

Feeling all kinds of giddy you nod, angling your thighs so his hips can fit between them. His spongy tip drags through your slick folds, and it’s the most you’ve ever felt another person focus so directly on you. You look up at him, bringing your hands up his stomach and to his defined shoulders as his tip sinks into you just the slightest.

“Well, you’re pretty too, like otherworldly handsome,” you admit back with a timid smile, clearly trying to regain your breath. “Just couldn’t tell you ‘cause you were too busy harassing me.” You exhale when he submerges himself a little more, and he smiles back with his pearly white teeth. “You’re fucking huge, too… oh my god…” you add, moaning a little at how his cock feels nothing like his fingers. You hate to admit it, but it’s clear he’s set to wreck you.

“Naturally.” He’s using every ounce of strength to control himself from pounding into you, responding to your praise and your criticism all at once. Gojo slowly and gently pushes in until his hips are flush with yours, and it feels as if he’s tearing you from the inside. Your face is scrunched at the intrusion, and he has to cover his own mouth to stop a moan at how tight you feel. There’s no other convincing needed by him that your pussy was practically made for him, he thinks, and he studies your features for any indication of stopping.

“Look at you,” he coos, nearly mesmerized by how your cunt has already swallowed him whole. His hand slides down his face to tweak at one of your hardened nipples. “And you said I wouldn’t fit. Takin’ it like a pro, princess.” His lighthearted motivation makes you snicker a little, and it eases some of the stinging from the stretch he’s causing. He gives you a few shallow thrusts, and his eyes practically roll to the back of his head when your hot walls grip around him. It takes a few moments for you to adjust to his size, and when finally you do, you give him the silent go-ahead by softening your expression. His grin could blind a room full of people when he thrusts deeper, not only reaching that same sensitive spot but finding another, and it makes your head loll back to the pillow.

That reminds him. He pauses for a second to slide one of the cheap hotel pillows under your tailbone, and suddenly his cock feels like it’s colliding with your guts when he continues his movements. Your mouth couldn’t fall any more open as he starts to establish a pace, filling you so masterfully yet harshly with every stroke.

“Sa-to-ru…” you pant, digging your nails into Gojo’s sculpted back, and this only motivates him more. You have a realization that could either be horrible or amazing: How could you ever fuck anyone else again? Again and again he’s thrusting into that magical spot till the sounds of your wetness fill the otherwise lackluster room, spoiling you for any other and reassuring you that yes, he really is the strongest. Part of him knows how skilled he is, and he has to refrain from laughing- no one would ever be enough once he was done with you. Then again, he never wants to be done with you.

You feel his tactful hands roam your body aimlessly, a visible sign of his enrapture with how you receive him. He wants to focus on watching his cock slam into your cunt over and over, but he also wants to watch your face as you writhe and cry out his name- he’s clearly conflicted.

The little breathy noises slipping out of him aren’t helping your cause, and the way he abruptly throws one of your legs over his broad shoulder doesn’t either. He’s now rutting into your tight heat relentlessly, a stark contrast from how delicately he’s kissing up the thigh that’s pressed into his chest.

“Your pussy is...perfect,” you hear Gojo groan, drawing the words out, and his kisses along your thigh become animalistic as they turn into bites. You whimper, back arching with all the sensations filling your system, and that heady feeling in your tummy begins to strengthen again. “Wanna-fuck you- forever…”

“Please,” you agree as your ability to form sentences leaves you. “Don’t ever- stop…”

In a perfect world, he wouldn’t. As one hand holds your thigh to his chest and the other travels to your overstimulated clit, his shiny blue eyes watch your contorting face, smiling proudly when you moan at how his fingers rub tight circles along your nerves. He can feel his release approaching alongside yours, and your slick walls flutter around his cock as he pummels into you.

“Want another one, princess,” Gojo pants, making your skin smack against his as your orgasm builds up in your tummy. “Go on, come on- my cock…”

His wish is your command. You quickly lean forward, mashing your lips with his when the pleasure fizzles out of you all over again. You feel the tips of your toes burn at how powerfully your release hits you, wracking your body with an almost overwhelming amount of pleasure. You’re reduced to a heaving, shaking mess, convulsing around his length and left only able to babble his name against his mouth in your state of bliss. His hand cradles the back of your head as he fucks you through the aftershock and kisses you roughly, only to follow close behind just moments later. His movements falter before your name falls from his lips, and his hips stutter as you feel yourself start to fill with his thick seed.

Holy shit. Who would’ve guessed that this was how your evening would turn out? Just mere hours ago you wanted to claw at his throat, and instead you clawed at his back because of how good he was dicking you down. Your mind swims as Gojo slowly withdraws, slipping out of your sore cunt to collapse beside you in what little space the hotel bed offered. He’s even gorgeous like this, maybe more than ever actually. You’re observing how his ivory hair sticks to his forehead and his back glistens with the thinnest layer of sweat from his efforts, the muscles there decorated with thin red indents from your nails. It’s a sight worth recreating an infinite number of times.

Not having him envelop all your senses anymore forces you back into reality, where a mission lies just hours ahead of you and your shared hotel room isn’t any prettier. And unbelievably, those things don’t even matter anymore. All you can perceive and recognize in your afterglow is Satoru Gojo, who is already regaining his breath while you lie there like a fucked-out mess. Beautiful.

Gojo turns to face you, watching your chest rise and fall as you regulate yourself, and his delighted grin is all too perfect for someone who just obliterated you.

“So…you warm enough now?”

Your sticky body shifts to face him, vibrating with laughter as you answer “For now, yes…” and your head hits the pillow exhaustedly. That’s right- you were already tired before this “development” even happened.

His whole being is pure elation as he languidly drapes an arm over your bare figure. “Does that mean we get to do that again? I think she really likes me.” His hand brushes over your abused cunt, and your body flares at his touch yet again. It was a sick epiphany that he could destroy you and you’d still want more.

You snicker. “Yes, but she is super sore right now.” The sleepiness from earlier seeps into your brain, and you find yourself curling back into his lanky frame. He accepts you openly, resting a hand on your ass as he scoops you closer.

“I can kiss her better,” he pipes up quietly, already thinking of all the ways he could keep touching you. Even though you feel that droning buzz of want again, you tiredly shake your head, regretfully reminding him “Noooo, we’ve gotta get up in a few hours. Maybe after our mission.” You swear his eyes desaturate a shade before he sighs.

“Yeah yeah yeah. You’re gonna be tired and sore anyway.”

“Oh, and you’re not?”

“Nah.” Gojo moves to press a fresh batch of kisses all over your neck, and you shudder. He did have a point- you were already planning on shotgunning whatever energy drinks were in the dingy hotel lobby’s vending machine in the morning, as if they even had one. “I could go all night if you wanted, princess. Give you more of my cooties.”

You laugh freely, realizing he probably wasn’t exaggerating. It’s quite the offer from the one who just wrecked you so good- and you’d be silly to refuse despite your tiredness. You feeling your limbs tangle into each other’s, returning thoughts of the hazardous hotel drifting away once more, and your arousal slowly revisits you. What an incredible way to forget about your surroundings. You tug playfully on his icy tresses, you decide that this might be your new favorite kind of exhaustion. “As long as you don’t share your cooties with anyone else.”

Snickering, Gojo keenly zeroes on spreading your aching legs so he can see the aftermath from earlier, and he’s hardening again at the sight of his thick cum barely trickling out onto your thighs. With a mischievous smile, he assures you, “Never. This is just too pretty. Plus, you said you were gonna tip well.”

His hands trace you, and there’s not a more discernible indicator of your new bond with him than when you look down at his length, answering him in a familiarly cheeky tone, “Well, you already did.” He laughs, the warmest he's ever allowed himself, and it's certain he's keeping his promise.

Turns out, Shoko was right about him.

#jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #jjk smut #jjk gojo #gojou satoru x reader #gojo smut #gojou x reader #gojo x reader #gojo x you #mdni #jjk #jjk x you #satoru gojo

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beardedjoel · 7 months

Text

sugar rush

joel miller x f!reader

event masterlist prompt: your desperate neighbor, joel miller, runs out of candy for the trick-or-treaters and comes to you. it turns out you've both been keeping a secret from each other; 4.7k words warnings: mostly cute fluff and pining, makeout sesh, they stay flirting, joel miller is a gentleman *saluting emoji* a/n: loved writing a fluffy little piece for my ppcu darlings for this event, happy halloween and i hope everyone enjoys all the fics we've been writing for you all!

The last thing you’d wanted was to do something extravagant for Halloween this year. You watched friends planning to go out to parties, ones with kids plotting all their family costumes. But what you really want is a peaceful night in, passing out candy and eating popcorn with a scary movie in the background, spending time in your own cozy cocoon. Work has been relentless the last few months, stressful and draining, and you’re happy to just relax with candy stolen from your candy bowl for the trick-or-treaters.

The first hour of little ones comes and goes, all of their costumes more adorable than the last, getting a chance to quickly catch up with some of your neighbors as they pass through. It’s just the evening you wanted, you convince yourself once again as you listen carefully to your popcorn in the microwave to make sure you don’t overcook it.

You feel a twinge deep inside, maybe some kind of loneliness hitting you while you feel the emptiness of your home pressing in on your heart. You’d not been having the best luck with dating recently, you knew that, and refused to believe the real reason was that there was someone you were interested in, but didn’t have the heart to pursue it. So instead, you had spent the better part of this week persuading yourself you were happy to spend the holiday by yourself, to get this much needed alone time.

You silently thank the universe when your doorbell rings again, bringing you out of your thought train that was heading towards a swift derailing into depression. You put on a smile before whipping the door open, expecting another group of kids dressed to the nines. Instead, your eyes flick up from child height to your neighbor, Joel Miller. He’s standing in a faded black band t-shirt that’s hugging his biceps, and when you finally pull your eyes to his face, it’s adorned with a shy little smile on his lips. His hair looks like he’s been running his fingers through it a few too many times today, tousled and sticking up, and his tan skin looks somehow stunning in the shitty light of your porch. How he manages to look this good all the time baffles you.

“Joel? Um, hey,” you stutter out awkwardly, hoping he can’t see that your cheeks now feel like they’re burning as they always do when you meet his intense, chocolatey gaze. “Here to trick or treat? I’m not sure what your costume is, though.”

Joel chuckles, his face lighting up and you feel your insides warm at the fact that you made him laugh. “Wish I was, but no. I actually, er…” He rubs the back of his neck nervously. “I ran out of candy, was hopin’ I could…” he says, the last part more quiet, half hoping you didn’t hear his embarrassing confession.

“Oh, y-you need some?” you reply, fidgeting your fingers in front of you. You glance over at your candy bowl, still over half full - you tend to go overboard on most things, and this was no exception. Anxiety had taken over you in the grocery store aisles and made you a different person, filling your cart with way more candy than accounted for kids in your neighborhood.

“I figured, y’know, think I might know ya best around here, and well, your light was on. The McCarthy’s don’t seem to be participatin’ this year.”

You have a flurry of emotions - amusement at Joel’s predicament, excitement that he’d chosen to come to you, and absolute screaming, jumping up and down joy that he’d thought he knew you the best of all his neighbors. The outside of you nowhere near matches the inside as you just give him a sweet, reserved smile.

“Those cranky bastards,” you say with a chuckle that Joel reciprocates. “Well, come on in, you can have some of mine. It’s kind of slowed down the last little while, though. But feel free to take whatever you need. Lord knows I don’t need this much leftover candy in my house tomorrow.”

“I’d kinda like to see you runnin’ around your lawn with a sugar rush, though,” Joel teases as he steps inside and you close the door behind him. Your brows raise slightly in surprise - Joel seems in an uncommonly great mood tonight. Not that he’s unkind, by any means, he’s just not typically the most chipper person you’ve ever met.

“Not so funny when I crash and pass out and you have to drag me back inside,” you quip back to him, and his smile goes a little crooked, which sets your heart jumping inside your chest. You’d been harboring a bit of a crush - okay, more than a crush, you admit to yourself - on your neighbor for a while now, too afraid to say anything about it, or even flirt too forwardly most of the time for fear of rejection. You figured he was just a nice guy, and you had helped each other out in a pinch a few times, attended a few of the same barbecues, or waved as you passed by. You’d fallen more quickly for his gorgeous little accent and rugged looks than you’d cared to admit to yourself, and these feelings didn’t seem to be going anywhere any time soon. You’d even started to wonder lately if the reason your dating life hadn’t been the most lively and successful was that you were still holding out hope that maybe, just maybe, Joel felt the same way about you.

“Might be kinda a good look for me - neighborhood hero an’ all, savin’ you,” he says, his smile growing a bit.

You roll your eyes playfully, feigning hurt. “And at my expense? That’s cold, Joel Miller.”

Joel laughs and holds up a small bag he’d brought over, hoping to take home his spoils. He’s filling it when the doorbell rings another time, and you start a little, so caught up in watching his broad, muscled form moving. You rush over to open it to a few small kids standing outside, not over the age of eight or so, all screaming TRICK OR TREAT! You laugh heartily and greet them all, gushing about how perfect their costumes are. You hold out your bowl of candy to them, letting them choose what they’d like and they all giggle at your compliments and little jokes.

Joel has stopped to stare, enamored with your sweetness in this moment, how good you are with the kids. Hell, Sarah is much older than these three little ones, but he’d seen how good you are with her, too. She seems to adore you, asking after you any time it’s been a while since she’s seen you. Joel’s lips tug up into a smile, just now noticing how cute your Halloween pajamas are - black bottoms with little jack-o-lantern’s printed all over them and a black tank top. Now that he was noticing, he tries not to bite his lip when he sees just how tight the tank top is, how well it hugs your body as it slides up along your back a little when you bend down towards the kids’ level.

You wave your goodbye and turn back to Joel, face glowing from the big grin you’d put on for the kids.

“So cute, right?” you say, hiking a thumb over your shoulder towards the front door.

“Miss that age,” Joel murmurs before he can stop himself. He promised himself he wouldn’t wallow too much tonight, and here he was telling the first person who had the misfortune of talking to him. Sarah chose to do a sleepover at a friend's house tonight, the first Halloween she was spending that didn’t involve Joel. Sure, they’d done the pumpkin patch and carved them after, apple picking with Sarah fulfilling her promise to bake Joel an apple crisp, and watched some of their favorite scary movies together. It still hurt that his little girl was Trick or Treating in another neighborhood without him tonight, maybe one of her last ones ever as she neared those teenage years.

“S-sorry, didn’t mean -” Joel starts, cutting himself off from the deep thoughts he’d tumbled into.

“No, hey, it’s okay. Sarah’s got plans tonight, I take it?” you ask, sincerity and compassion sparking in your eyes. Joel finds himself dangerously close to falling into those two pools, your sweet soul shining through as you look at him.

“Mhm,” Joel replies, scratching a hand through his beard. “She uh, wanted to do somethin’ at a friends’. Don’t blame her, just… y’know, one of those things.”

You give Joel a sympathetic half-smile, letting out a sigh. “I’m sorry, Joel. That is tough. I’ll bet she’s feeling a bit sad about it too, even if she’s having fun.”

“Better miss her old man at least a little bit,” Joel replies, trying to lighten the mood.

“Old man? I don’t see any old men in here,” you say, gazing around the room with a fake curiosity, your brow furrowed. Joel spits out a laugh and shakes his head.

“Too kind, darlin’. For that, and the candy.” He holds up the bag full of candy and starts towards the door. Your heart lurches every time he throws out one of his Southern little pet names, and you have to forcibly keep your face neutral as you bask in it. “Well, uh, thanks. I owe you,” Joel finally says.

You pull your bottom lip into your mouth and worry with it as Joel’s hand seems to inch towards the door in slow motion.

“W-wait,” you say, before you’ve even realized the word has left your mouth. “I was watching a movie - would you want to, um, stay and watch with me? Pass out candy together?”

Joel blinks a few times, and you feel your stomach sink, until he breaks out in a sheepish smile, his cheeks flushing a bit.

“I’d like that, yeah.”

“Oh,” you nearly start, mostly having expected him to say no for some reason. Maybe you just haven’t accepted the fact that Joel does seem to enjoy your company as much as you do his. “Great,” you flash a smile, gesturing over to the couch. You walk over and sit down, and Joel follows closely behind, peering around at your setup.

“Popcorn ready and everythin’,” Joel comments with an impressed whistle, settling onto the couch next to you, the distance between you enough that you’re hoping you can stay focused on the movie. His warmth radiates though, his broad shoulders looking so damn big, fuck, on your couch and his legs spread open as he relaxes back a bit. You try to make your shaky exhale as discreet as possible before grabbing the popcorn bowl from the table and plopping it between the two of you.

“What are we watchin’, then?”

“Killer Lake 3. oOooh,” you tell him, wiggling your fingers in an attempt to make it sound creepier, but Joel just laughs and shakes his head at you, running his fingers over tired eyelids.

“Ain’t seen that one yet, makes me kinda nervous, that uh, whole series,” he admits, and you kind of like the idea of knowing something small and intimate about him, something vulnerable.

“Me too,” you admit, holding back a chuckle, your hand over your mouth.

Joel sits forward, shooting you an incredulous look. “And yet you were watchin’ this… all alone in your house?”

“It’s called living on the edge, or something,” you reply with a laugh. “Besides, not alone anymore, am I? I’ve got a victim to suffer with me.”

Joel huffs and crosses his arms. “Just play the damn thing before I can chicken out.” He settles back again, but you can feel the tension radiating off of him as he never fully relaxes, his body taut while he keeps his arms tucked into each other. You find yourself hoping that at least part of the reason he seems tense is he’s just as nervous as you are to be sitting so close on the couch together, able to feel the heat of each other’s bodies, the scent of the other person permeating the space. You try not to breathe in too noticeably when you catch the smell of him - musky, a little outdoorsy, and something else a little less like his natural scent, an aftershave or deodorant. It’s all equally intoxicating, you think to yourself, trying not to let your brain become too muddled by it.

The doorbell rings several times while you two are watching, each time you and Joel pause the movie to coo over the little trick or treaters together. You feel your heart flutter at the thought of those who don’t know you two, who would think you’re just any other couple living together. Your insides are nearly bursting at the thought, not realizing just how badly you’d wanted that with Joel, this sweet domesticity. Now that it was within your reach, a little taste of it playing over in your mind, you don’t know how to go back to how things were before this night.

The movie still isn’t finished when 8:30 hits, but you get up to turn the porch light off, signaling the end of the trick or treaters for the night. Joel stands up awkwardly in your living room, hands fiddling in front of his belly. He clears his throat and glances at the carpeting before he looks back up to you.

“Love to stay, and finish the movie off, if that’s alright,” Joel offers before you can even say anything, and you nod eagerly. “Couldn't leave you all alone with this scary shit now.”

“My hero,” you tease, calling back to your earlier conversation. You clasp your hands over your heart with a grin, and Joel chuckles, rubbing his neck.

When you two sit back down, you start to realize that every time you've gotten up from the couch to give out candy and sat back down, you and Joel have gotten a little more comfortable, bodies less rigid and tense, able to sit a little bit closer to each other. You realize you’ve barely been paying attention as the movie plays again when Joel makes a sound at something happening on the screen, so you try to focus so he can’t tell just how affected you are by his presence or how lost in thought you are.

“S-shit,” Joel calls out, jumping a bit in his seat, clutching his chest with one hand. The other one flies over to your thigh, where he holds on for dear life, squeezing you there. He quickly pulls it off, before you can even fully register it, trying at the last second to memorize the feeling but coming up short, too stunned to even believe that it really happened. Joel seems to tear his gaze from the movie, both of his hands clutched in his lap, fiddling nervously.

“I’m - uh, I’m sorry ‘bout that. Just got me jumpin’, didn’t mean to, well…” Joel stutters out, gesturing to your leg. You’re sure if the room was more light, you’d see a flush creeping over his cheeks. He can’t believe he’s embarrassed himself in front of one of the most beautiful girls he’s ever known, one he’s sure is completely out of his league. It hasn’t stopped him from being excited to see you every time he’s had the pleasure of getting to have a conversation with you or simply see you pass by his house on a walk or run. He’s in deep, he knows it, and now he may have just ruined his chance to reveal his feelings to you the right way.

“Oh,” you say plainly. “It’s totally fine, I nearly did the same thing,” you say with a chuckle, trying to laugh it off.

You feel the skin on your thigh buzz beneath your pants where his hand had been for that brief second though, and your heart doesn’t seem to be interested in calming down its incessant thundering. You want more, you want to feel his hand back right where it was, the strength of his arm slung around your shoulder, his touch nearly anywhere on your body. You’ve never been alone with Joel this long and it’s starting to get to you, sending your mind reeling.

That brief touch suddenly has you gathering up your courage, so you turn your body to face Joel a little better and breathe in deeply.

Now or never.

Your heart thuds harder and your stomach tightens into knots, but you strengthen your resolve and square your body a little, trying to give yourself a false confidence.

“Actually…” you say, clearing your throat quietly. Joel’s attention quickly snaps from the television back to your face, and you nearly lose any semblance of bravery at his gaze locked so firmly on yours. “I didn’t mind, at all. If you wanted to do that again, or anything like that, uh, maybe,” you tell him, cursing yourself for stumbling on your words, for making it sound so unsexy to ask him to put his hand on your thigh.

You pull your lips inward and press them together, sure that your widened eyes are giving away the complete terror you feel as you await his reply. It feels like years creep by of his face looking completely taken aback until you see the corner of his mouth twitch up, his eyes starting to go a little softer with a twinkle in them.

“What, like, uh,” Joel clears his own throat now. “Like this?”

His hand slides over from his lap, much slower and intentional this time, landing on your thigh, right above your knee. It feels like heaven - his grip firm and protective but also soft and caring at the same time. His fingers flex a little, giving away his nervousness before he settles on a few errant rubs of his thumb.

“Yeah” You give him a toothy smile. “Like that.”

“Wouldn’t mind one bit if you wanted to hold onto me, an’ all that. Since the movie’s so scary, ‘course,” Joel says, sounding more bashful than you’ve ever heard him with his voice lowered.

You feel yourself smiling wider and wider, your face nearly feeling like it’s going to crack soon with the excitement you feel. Joel’s own heart is fluttering more than it has in ages and he wills it to calm down before he gets too excited about his crush, for Christ’s sake, simply cuddling with him.

“Of course, since the movie’s so scary,” you tease, biting your lip anxiously. You tentatively scoot closer to Joel, pressing your thighs flush with his as you curl up on the couch, tucking your feet up next to you on the opposite side. You bring your hand up to his bicep, wrapping it around the muscle before gingerly laying your head onto his shoulder. Every movement feels a little stiff at first, testing these new and exciting waters with each other.

Joel lets out a quiet hum of satisfaction, one he’s not sure that you heard until you sigh lightly in response and his heart leaps along with yours, the two of you tensely holding one another. Joel feels you start to relax first, your attention half back on the movie, and he takes the initiative to let go of some of his own tension, letting his hand wander a bit more on your thigh.

By the end of the movie, you and Joel are entwined together, his arm slung behind your shoulders, your hands clasped together and palms sweaty from the intensity of the film and being so close to each other. You’ve migrated onto the top of Joel’s chest, resting your head there. Joel thinks he’s died and gone to heaven as he keeps getting delicious whiffs of your shampoo at that angle - a scent he tries to burn into his memory for when this evening inevitably ends.

When the credits start to roll, neither of you move, not wanting to break whatever spell it seems the two of you are under. Joel reaches for the remote, turning the movie off before tossing it aside and resting a finger under your chin. He gently pushes, urging you to tilt your head to look up at him. The little, curious noise you let out at his touch makes Joel’s insides instantly turn to fire, his body tensing up and muscles going taut. Just the touch of his calloused finger under your soft chin has a heat licking up your spine, then settling deep inside your gut.

“This was nice,” you murmur, now looking up at him and blinking slowly. He can hardly believe that the look in your eye - the starry, eager, content look - has anything to do with him. His eyes drift down to where your lips look so pouty and inviting right now, parted slightly as you wait to hear from him.

Joel leans forward a little, sliding his fingers up from your chin to your cheek, cupping it softly. He brushes his lips across yours, so lightly you can barely feel it at first, sensing his hesitancy. You meet him in the middle, and you can feel the smile on his lips as they meet yours in full, pressing into you with a romantically soft kiss. You moan wantonly into it, having wanted and dreamed of this moment countless times. Your hand cups his face in return, gently scratching your fingers through his beard and he lets out his own satisfied groan now before pulling away.

“That okay?” he asks quietly, his voice a hoarse whisper.

“Joel,” you say, your own voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve been wanting that to happen for like, almost a year now, so yes.”

Joel blinks hard in surprise. “That long?” he asks, his tone going lower with suggestion as his brows quirk a little. He keeps his hand on your cheek, rubbing along your jawline with his thumb.

“Mhm. That long,” you murmur with a nod, closing the small gap between your faces once more as you press your lips into his. You make a small moaning sound deep in your throat and barely pull your lips off of his to utter feels nice.

Your enthusiasm urges Joel on, a quiet groan making its way out of his throat as he deepens the kiss, sliding his hand from your cheek up to the back of your head and burying it in your hair. His fingers along your scalp feels so heavenly that you can’t help the satisfied mewl that comes out of you.

Joel’s hands start to explore a little more, curving down your back with a firm touch, his fingers tracing along your spine. You nearly shudder and then gasp when his calloused pads find their way underneath the bottom of your tank top, touching bare skin now, the heat of his hands blazing into you. You can feel how heavily you’re breathing already, the tension building and nearly unbearable. It feels like a dream, this moment you’d thought so much about happening, wishing for his touch and his lips and his body just like this. Your hands wrap around his neck to keep him pulled close, desperately trying to keep this moment from slipping away from you.

He surprises you by lifting you onto his lap, hands enveloping your plush hips as he tugs you over to straddle him. You gladly and willingly move your body along to where he guides you, settling on top of his lap with your heart beating out of your chest. It all feels so natural but has you giddy, nearly jumping out of your skin with the quickening pace of your kisses. Your bodies meld to one another effortlessly, your hips sinking down further into his lap as you grind a little into each other.

Every movement, touch, and synced breath is pure bliss as you two continue devouring everything the other is putting out, tongues dancing with one another and now swollen lips pressing into each other. All the pent up longing and burning desire coursing through you now has an outlet, and you try to hold back a moan that pushes up through your throat to not seem too desperate, but Joel beats you to it, a little groan slipping past his lips. He pulls away slowly, peppering the corners of your mouth with a few kisses before slowly opening his eyes, now gazing at you with a heady, half-lidded look. You meet his expression curiously, your heart still thundering as you lazily scratch along the back of his neck.

“W-would it make me look like a complete idiot if I said,” Joel starts, keeping his hands steadily wrapped around your hips, fingers still splayed all the way to your ass. “I wanna take y’on a date before we go any further? Know it’s old fashioned, but…”

You laugh quietly, sincere and sweet, at his honesty and apprehension, watching his cheeks reddening and mouth a little agape as he awaits your reply. You palm his chest with your free hand, spreading your fingers out and brushing them dotingly across the fabric of his tee shirt.

“Not at all,” you tell him, your voice coming out a little cracked, planting a chaste kiss on his lips, savoring the way they mingle so quickly into yours without hesitation. “I think I’d like that, too,” you add on, giving him an encouraging smile.

You see him breathe out, shoulders sagging in relief while his mouth twitches upwards. “Good,” he sighs, “‘Cause I really wanna take you out, darlin’. Been wantin’ to…” he says with a lopsided smile now, leaning back in for another kiss.

“Maybe I’ve been wanting to, too,” you tease, leaning your head down to rest on his shoulder, snuggling into him, letting the moment become comfortable, any expectations on the two of you lifted for now.

“Couldn’t tell or anythin’, by the way you hopped on top of me,” Joel jokes, breaking the tension even more. It feels like any other day, now, like you tease each other while you curl yourself up on his lap all the time. It amazes you how little discomfort or awkwardness you feel right now around Joel despite the major shift in your relationship only moments ago.

“You pulled me up here, you ass,” you quip back, lightly hitting him on his other shoulder.

“That I did, sugar,” he says more sweetly now, kissing your forehead, warm and sticky. “Wanna go out w’me this Friday, then?” he asks, and you pick your head up to smile at him, tenderly curling your fingers around his cheek, still getting used to the feeling of touching him so freely.

“Friday? Not sooner?” you ask, biting the inside of your lip and trying to give him your best version of sweet, pleading eyes.

“Eager, are you?”

You kiss him again in reply, letting your tongue slip into his mouth again and he meets it hungrily with his own, his hands snaking around your back to your ass and squeezing the globes greedily. You can feel his arousal, pressing hard where your warm heat meets his, thighs gripping around his legs tightly. He has to practically tear himself away and you can see the mischief in his dark eyes growing by the second.

“Yeah, me too,” he says, a little breathless now. “Tomorrow, then.”

“Tomorrow is perfect.” You slip off of his lap and plop next to him on the couch again, stifling a yawn now that you’re coming down from the quick boost of adrenaline your make-out session with Joel had given you.

“I should head out, but…” Joel says when he notices your tiredness, putting a warm hand on your thigh. “I’m lookin’ forward to tomorrow.”

“Me too,” you reply with a wide grin. You stand up from the couch with him, walking to the door together with your fingers brushing, not seeming to want to be without the other’s touch.

“Pick you up right here at 6:00 tomorrow, yeah?” Joel stands in your open doorway, lingering on shifting feet as you nod in agreement. He leans in and captures your lips in another kiss, this one feeling just as new as the others and you instantly lose yourself to it, breathing in his scent and memorizing the feel of his plush lips on yours for the final time tonight.

“Goodnight,” you say quietly, planting one more peck on his cheek, wiry stubble around his beard tickling your lips. He ambles down your walkway, and while you’re admiring the view, leaning against your doorframe he turns back, giving you a sheepish, crooked smile.

“Hey,” he says, stopping where he stands. “Happy Halloween, darlin’,”

You can’t help the smile that bursts onto your face, your heart soaring at the adorable pet name, the locks of Joel’s hair sticking out in all directions, and the near puppy dog eyes he’s giving you right now. This right here, this Joel Miller is one you know not everybody is lucky enough to see, and you’re so grateful you’re getting a glimpse of it tonight.

You lift a hand and wave as you step back inside and call out to him.

“Happy Halloween, Joel.”

dividers from saradika !

#halloween event #joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you

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withahappyrefrain · 8 months

Text

Gin & Tonics (and Parking Spots)

Summary: In which Venus finally meets the infamous Dagger Squad. The fourth installment of the Parking Spots universe

Warnings: Language, Venus being Venus, Jake being lovesick, suggestive language, Venus has an actual name but it's only used twice

A sea of khaki that reeked of testosterone everywhere one turned.

It was Venus' worst nightmare.

She made her way past the crowd of people, avoiding the stares. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to know she stuck out like a sore thumb. A "civilian" is what Jake called it.

Apparently "not a soldier" was too simple for the military. And "wasn't coerced by a recruiter to sell my soul to the US government" was too long.

"If you get there before me or Javy, just sit by Penny. She's the owner. You'll like her a lot."

Venus rolled her eyes at her fiancé, "I like anyone who can make a good drink, Jake."

Jake smiled before pressing a gentle kiss to her temple, “Y’know what I mean. She’ll look out for you.”

“What can I get you my dear?” Venus looked up to find an older woman behind the bar.

Her green eyes looked kind. She suddenly understood what Jake meant.

“I’ll just take a gin and tonic,” She shrugged her shoulders, trying her best to appear indifferent, undeterred by the borderline lewd stares. When getting ready, she thought the yellow dress would be a great choice for meeting Jake’s friends. Not too formal, not too informal. It was flattering, but not too revealing. She even put thought into her hair, opting to style it in waves rather than the natural curls that Jake adored.

“You wore that on our first date,” Jake said softly, a smile gracing his face.

She lowered the hanger in surprise, “You remember that?”

“Of course,” he reached a hand out to cup one side of her sweet face, “How could I forget?”

She didn’t account for the fact she would be alone for a bit. No, she was far too busy freaking out about meeting her fiance’s friends for the first time.

Fuck.

“They’re gonna love you V.”

Perhaps if she had some experience of being in a serious relationship and meeting their friends, anxiety wouldn’t be coursing through her body. She had met a few friends of the person she was dating before, but it was usually at a party where after introductions, she was left alone to her own devices.

The idea that someone would want to introduce her to other parts of their life, to become a part of them, was new. That they thought she was important enough to do so. Family? Sure. That was a given. But friends? The people you willingly chose to spend time with?

A whole different ballpark. Though in this case, perhaps turmac was more fitting.

“Since you’re new, I’m going to need to see your ID hun,” The woman, presumably Penny, said, pulling her out of her thoughts.

"Of course," She held her head high as pulled her driver's license from her wallet, ignoring the stares, trying to play off her hands shaking.

If they wanted her to move, they could fucking ask.

The bartender, who had to be Penny, looked at the ID, a soft smile forming, “Well Danica, I can see why Jake calls you Venus.”

“You…. know who I am?” Great, there was already a preconceived idea of who she was. Before she even had a chance, her fate was sealed.

What was she known as? The girl who yelled at Jake in a parking lot? The girl who threw bread rolls at him?

Penny continued to smile, “Of course! Jake is always excited to show me the latest picture he’s taken of you. The flowers you two got from the farmer’s market are beautiful by the way.”

Heat rushed to her face while recalling last weekend’s adventures. Jake insisted on taking her picture by the flower stand. It was strange at first-still was-how his Instagram that had once been only thirst traps workout pictures were now full of her and their adventures together.

As much fun as it was going through the older posts and giving him hell about it, she loved looking at the newer photos, the ones that showed their journey together.

“He’s a good photographer, I’ll give him that,” A small smile began to form on Venus' face, her shoulders visibly relaxing.

“Don’t give him too much. He needs to be kept on his toes,” Penny laughed in agreement, “I’m Penny by the way. So where is the man of the hour?"

Penny handed her a gin and tonic as she explained, "Had a last minute meeting with Simpson. He should be coming soon, as is the rest of the squad from my understanding."

Penny raised an eyebrow, "So you finally get to meet them! They have been dying to meet you. Been asking Jake about it for months."

The grip on her drink tightened.

Jake had a reputation. And with that reputation, came preconceived notions of what kind of girl he would date.

Venus was not what people thought of when it came to Jake's ideal type. While his family adored her, they all admitted they were surprised when Jake first called to tell them about the woman he met in a parking lot. Hell, even her family was surprised when she described him. They still adored him, loved him, and insisted on serving a traditionally prepared lechon at the engagement party.

But friends were a whole different breed. One willingly chose to spend time with them. Friends were honest, and more often than not, their opinion was highly valued.

She had learned that the hard way.

"I mean, she's nice but do you see it going anywhere? I don't."

"She's really not your type, man."

"She's kind of a bitch."

A soft hand gently laid on top of hers, breaking Venus out of her thoughts. Was it motherly instinct or was her anxiety that plainly written across her face?

She found Penny smiling, "They're so excited to meet you. They already adore you and ask about you constantly."

They were looking forward to meeting you, she repeated in her head. That means they want to meet you. Adore is such a specific word, Penny wouldn't have said it if it wasn't true.

She clung onto Penny's words. They were nuggets of truth, a shield against the negative thoughts that clouded her brain. The evidence that those shitty experiences were in the past, that the situation she was in now was entirely different, was better.

Her therapist would be so proud.

A more relaxed, genuine smile appeared on Venus’ face, the first one she could recall occurring since pulling into the parking lot of the Hard Deck.

“I look forward to meeting everyone. I’ll take another gin and tonic when you get a chance!”

“I got it covered Penny,” a smooth voice said. She turned around, half expecting (moreso hoping) to see Jake, despite the lack of Texan drawl.

When she turned around, there was no tall blonde with sparkling emerald green eyes and a smile so white, she could see it from outer space.

Instead, a Hawaiin shirt so ugly that no Dad at a BBQ would go near greeted her.

Her lips formed a tight line, her eyes narrowing. It was the same look she wore when dealing with annoying patients or annoying men.

“Welcome to the Hard Deck,” The man said with a wink. His eyes were nice, but the caterpillar that occupied the space between his nose and upper lip was what she noticed first.

She recognized him immediately. Jake had given her plenty of information so she could recognize members of the dagger squad.

Bold of him to assume she would just go up to them. But maybe she could have some fun with this.

Penny gave her a look, one that silently asked Should I tell him? Venus just shook her head, turning back to face the infamous Bradley Bradshaw.

“How do you know it’s my first time?” She asked coyly with a raised eyebrow before bringing the drink back to her lips.

“With a face like that? I wouldn't be able to forget ya." Did he also get his pickup lines from the eighties, in addition to his shirts?

Bradlet leaned against the railing of the bar, bending slightly so they were at eye level, “So what brings you here? Besides fate.”

Her eyes could not roll any harder. How many more lines would it take before he started singing Jerry Lewis?

“Well, after hearing about it so much, I just had to see the mustache in person,” She responded, moving her drink to her left hand.

If there had to be a sound that best represented Bradley’s face, it was a record scratch. The best he could respond with was a very confused “Excuse me?”

“I’ll give you credit, you pull off the look pretty well, despite it consisting of a pornstache and clothes from the part of the eighties that even Stranger Things won’t touch.”

“It’s not….it’s not a pornstache.”

A darked haired woman clad in a khaki uniform nearby snorted.

Venus grinned, “It is absolutely a pornstache. But some people are into that. I don’t get it, but good for you Rooster.”

Bradley's eyes knitted together in confusion,“Do I…..do I know you?”

"I would hope you know of me. According to Javy, Jake talks about me a lot. Anyways, we should become best friends. Jake’s reaction will be hilarious.”

It was then Bradley finally looked down, seeing the huge emerald ring on her left hand.

And that's when it hit Bradley Bradshaw like a fucking train.

"You're Venus?!"

It was much louder than she would have liked, the statement causing several people to look at her with curious stares.

Just play it cool, they all work for the military, you actually do important shit, she told herself over and over again.

“In the flesh!" She flashed a smile before taking a huge sip of her drink, trying to ignore the fact that another pilot was now approaching her.

She was going to need another drink to get through this.

"You're Hangman's girl? The one who told him to fuck off when you first met him?"The dark haired woman asked, practically shoving Bradley out of the way.

The infamous Venus shrugged, "I didn't exactly tell him to fuck off. I told him it made no sense why he could fly million-dollar jets but was a shit driver. Phoenix?"

Natasha nodded, “Glad he’s no longer hiding you. I’ve been telling him to bring you around ever since he arrived late to a debriefing with hearts in his eyes as he talked about a woman who referred to him as Hangnail.”

The comment brough relief. At least one person liked her, at least one person wanted to get to know her.

Natasha grabbed her arm, “Come on. The rest of the gang is going to lose their minds when they learn you’re finally here.”

Through the throngs of pilots, Natasha led her to a table filled with other men who all looked vaguely familiar. The tight lipped smile remained on her face as she straightened her shoulders, ready to face the (multiple) men of the hour.

“Hey guys, guess who I met?”

“V! You made it!” Before she could say anything, a pair of strong arms wrapped themselves around her waist, picking her up.

“Javy, I swear to God if you don’t put me down-” She couldn’t help but laugh. Just like with Jake, Javy had become the older brother Venus never knew she wanted.

Knowing Javy would be there was what made her feel comfortable enough to arrive without Jake. Winning over your fiancé's best friend was quite the confidence boost.

Maybe it was the fact he actually made an effort to get to know her. Maybe it was the fact he took all her digs about the Saints in stride. But with Jake, the three of them had become a trio and she didn't mind at all.

"Hey guys! This is Danica! Aka Venus, aka the one who got Jake to settle down!"

"You really know how to build suspense Coyote," Nat deadpanned before taking a seat next to Bob. Javy lowered her down, her feet returning to the ground.

"You're Venus? The one he proposed to after eight months of dating?" A man with shining brown eyes and energy that could best be described as a golden retriever asked.

Her features softened as she looked down at her emerald ring, "When you know, you know. I also take it you're Mickey?"

"Wow, I guess Hangman talks about us more than we thought," Mickey joked, earning the chuckles from others.

She looked back up, that signature smirk having returned, "We're also having a long engagement, that was my compromise."

"That's not what he said," Phoenix scoffed, recalling the different potential venues Jake had already shown her.

She continued fidgeting with her engagement ring. It wasn’t a matter of Venus being unfamiliar to having all eyes on her. But with Jake's friends, it was different. Another layer of being official that she wasn’t used to.

"Well, you deserve all the drinks for being able to put up with Bagman,” Mickey commented, as if he sensed her nerves.

“Bagman?” she asked, a mischievous glint forming in her big eyes.

"It's what we call him when we feel he hasn't earned being called his proper name, which I'm sure as you know, is most of the time," A man with glasses and a thin lopsided smile that was sweeter than sugar explained.

Her eyes light up, "Oh, I am definitely using that. Also, are you Bob?"

Without waiting for an answer, she walked over to the bespectacled WSO, “You’re so cute! I’m adopting you.” For added effect, she placed a hand on each of Bob’s cheeks.

“Does that mean Bagman is my dad?" Bob asked with an almost grimace.

"Yeah, but I'll make sure he chills out," She reassured him with a soft smile.

“Wait, she’s actually nice?” Reuben whispered to Natasha and Bradley, “The way Jake describes her-”

“Look, if she can find redeemable qualities in Bagman of all people, she must have a lot going for her,” Natasha interjected.

As time passed, Venus found herself more and more at ease with the group. Despite having heard so much, they still took the time to ask questions, to get to know her. They wouldn’t only talk about Jake (not that she wanted them to), and they actually tried to include her in the conversation, despite her lack of knowledge about their field.

It was different. It was nice.

Once drinks got low, Venus offered to go get the next round. Bradley followed her, still apologizing for the flirting earlier.

She chuckled, “It’s totally fine. In fact, I think it’s hilarious that you and Bagman have a similar type,” Her eyes narrowed, “Which by the way, I know plenty of cute, spitfire nurses who are single.”

Bradley’s face turned bright red, “I’m uh-I don’t need any help with-”

“Look, I already plan to find Bob's future wife, might as well find yours while I’m at it. There are people out there who are into what you call a mustache,” She shrugged her shoulders, “I don’t get it, but I’m willing to find them for you.”

It was the way she mixed sweetness with snark that confused Bradley, as well as everyone else.

“Can I ask you something?” Bradley finally asked.

“I’m not going to tell you his dick size,” A devious smirk adorned her face, causing her to resemble the image the squad had conjured in their minds when Jake first told them how the ‘future Mrs. Seresin’ referred to him as a knockoff Ken doll.

“That’s not what-”

“But I will say-”

“Please don’t.”

“You could have named him Hungman and it still would have been accurate.”

“I really, really don’t need to hear this.” Bradley’s face was now bright red, whereas the woman next to him casually ordered the next round of beers and a lemon seltzer for Bob with a grin on her face.

“You’re telling me the men in the navy don’t talk about their dick sizes? Least of all, the person whose call sign means cock?”

“It’s a bird-”

“That also means cock.”

Bradley stared at her, quite frankly afraid that if he said another word, he'd have to hear about Hangman’s dick.

She stared right back, able to hold off the impromptu staring contest for a few moments before erupting into a fit of giggles.

When Jake first rambled on about the beautiful woman he had met at a coffee shop, who he insisted was his future wife, Bradley (and everyone else) thought the blonde pilot had lost his damn mind.

But after seeing her truly smile, Bradley could understand why Jake became so smitten.

“How….do you two work?” It was an honest question. Javy asked the same thing the first time he went out with you and Jake. She even wondered about it herself when they first got together.

She shrugged, fingers fiddling with Jake’s class ring that was on a silver chain around her neck, “We just….do. He calms me down. I remind him sometimes it’s better to be quiet and just listen. We both make each other smile and laugh. It’s nice. More than nice. It’s wonderful.”

Bradley noticed what she was fiddling with, "So that’s where it went.”

“He has a ring of mine that he wears with his dog tags. We traded before he went on deployment.” She shrugged again, as if to suggest it wasn’t a big deal.

The soft smile on her face suggested the exact opposite.

Bradley grinned, “Do you know he also wears one of your hair ties around his wrist?”

Her smile only continued to grow, "He says the more pieces he has of me on him, the luckier he is in the sky."

Truthfully, Venus wasn't sure what to expect when she began dating Jake. Certainly not him being such a romantic. It was strange at first. Why would someone go through so much effort to bring flowers, to make dinner reservations, to plan dates when they already had you?

When Jake scoffed at the very idea of not needing to impress it was the first time she truly reflected on previous relationships and just how shitty they were.

"Baby, they were awful," Jake pressed a chaste kiss to her shoulder, "You deserve so much more than what you've gotten."

A hand on your shoulder broke you out of your thoughts.

"I think I just saw that Jeep Wrangler you love so much just pulled up," Natasha teased.

She rolled your eyes, despite a small smile remaining as you shook your head, "I hate that fucking car."

"I'm glad someone else agr-"

"Bradshaw, don't get me started on your car choices." Her eyes narrowed as she shot him a look.

Only she got to insult that hideous car.

Bradley promptly closed his mouth, not wanting to face her infamous wrath.

He was still reeling from the Pornstache comment.

So instead, he simply helped her carry the round of drinks back to the rest of the squad.

"So Venus, what does the woman who made Jake Seresin lovesick do?" Payback asked.

"I'm a level three neonatal nurse at the local hospital," she explained, "Which is partly why it's been so hard to meet y'all. My schedule can be pretty irregular."

The table was quiet as they processed this new piece of information. When they first heard about her, they couldn't help but imagine a cutthroat business woman, a manager, a consultant.

Not a nurse. Particularly one who dealt with children.

"So you um, you-"

She set her glass down with force, "I do not play with babies and change diapers all day. My job is to keep premature babies alive and ensure they're able to go home with their family and live as healthy of a life as possible."

Her voice was tense, no doubt due to past dismissive comments regarding her job.

Bob shifted closer to her, "I think that's amazing. One of my sister's kids was born at 28 weeks and she still swears to this day that if it weren't for y'all, she would not have been able to keep it together."

Her shoulders visibly relaxed as a smile formed on her face, "I like you Bob. I'm going to keep you."

Mickey spoke up, "Hey, wait a second. My girlfriend Cielo and I have already put in a request to adopt Bob."

She put an arm around Bob's shoulder, shaking her head, "Nah, I call dibs."

"We knew him first!" If one didn’t see the gleam of playfulness that laced Mickey’s amber eyes, his tone would sound completely defensive.

Bob finally spoke up, "Just a friendly reminder that I'm thirty one years old."

She turned to the soft spoken WSO, "Which is why I am determined to find you your Missus."

"Get in line, Cielo and I have been working on that."

Natasha snorted, "We've all been working on that."

Bob signed, putting a palm to his face.

"Hey V, I think your man just walked in." Maybe it was fate, maybe the universe took pity on Bob.

But when Venus looked up upon hearing Reuben's words, her heart skipped a beat.

There he was.

Jake was over at the bar, waiting for Penny to take notice of him. No doubt ordering gin and tonic, along with a basket of fries for Venus. He always made sure she had something to snack on.

"Wanna see something?" She asked the gang.

Without waiting, she put two fingers to her mouth, a loud whistle coming out. The noise caught the attention of several people, including a blonde man with eyes greener than the emerald that adorned her engagement ring.

When Jake's eyes met hers, her heart skipped a beat. His eyes lit up, a smile overtaking his face.

"Hi loverboy," she called out with a wave. Oh she tried to smirk, try to play it off as if she was indifferent to the sight of her fiancé.

But Danica's eyes told a different story.

"Venus!" Jake called out, getting even more attention. Not that he noticed. He was too busy practically shoving folks out of the way to get to the table.

Maybe she picked up her pace to meet Jake. Maybe Jake knocked a drink over as his hands placed themselves underneath her thighs, allowing him to pick her up in one swoop.

It’s not like either of them were paying attention.

—-----------------------------------------

To say Jake Seresin was annoyed was an understatement.

His day had started out so well. He got to wake up not on base in a small, old twin bed, but instead in the arms of his fiancé.

Then he had to go to work.

Jake loved his job. He was damn good at it- one of the best, in fact. He enjoyed being at work, which was something many couldn't say.

But not when his job caused him to be late, unable to be with the woman he loved, especially on a night where she needed him the most.

Normally, she would have already met his friends before Jake proposed to her. But thanks to the nature of his job, which involved spur-of-the-moment missions, he had done things a bit backwards.

If it weren't for the nature of his job, Venus could have met the squad back when she only had the title of girlfriend.

Sure, she still would have put pressure on herself, as was in her nature. But decidedly less pressure.

Jake wanted to be there for her, to reassure her that she was in fact, the most incredible person he had ever met and that his friends would see that immediately. To put a hand on her shoulder whenever he saw that smile begin to fade, self doubt creeping into her mind.

Which was why he was all but running into the Hard Deck. His meeting with Cyclone lasted much longer than intended. Normally Jake wasn’t super concerned about showing up late to the Hard Deck, but today was the worst day it could happen.

Deep in his heart, he knew she would be just fine. At worst, she wouldn’t approach the squad until Javy arrived and would stick by Penny.

Jake just wanted her to feel comfortable, to feel at ease. He wanted to support her, like any decent husband would.

So yeah, maybe he was taking advantage of his status, knowing that no one would say anything if he pushed past them without a single excuse me. Jake knew his great grandmother was rolling in her grave, but he hoped Mimi would understand all in due time.

“Hey Penny, have you happened to see an absolute goddess with an affinity for gin and tonics?” Jake asked once he arrived at the front of the bar, ignoring the glares.

Penny simply smiled, "I think your friends found her. She was also pretty low on her beverage last time I saw her."

"Well, we can't have that. I'll take a Miller Light, along with a Gin and tonic with a basket of fries." Jake recalled that she had texted him around two that she was on her lunch break. He doubted she had much time, if any, to eat when she got home from work.

Order fries first, then find the love of his life.

If only the bar wasn't slammed.

He was trying his best not to be impatient. It wasn't Penny's fault, the Hard Deck was always like this when a new class arrived to base.

But damn was it frustrating. The minutes seemed to tick away. Jake looked around, unable to spot his fiancé amidst the sea of khaki.

Until he heard that whistle.

He looked around, Bradshaw finally moving his bigass head to reveal the person that made his heart soar.

She was sitting with the rest of the gang, smiling. She looked at ease, as if she had always been a part of this crew.

Jake knew this was possible, that she had it in herself to open up and connect, rather than sit at the bar and wait for him to come.

But sometimes she forgets that she can.

So when Jake doesn't need to remind her, he can't help but beam.

"Hi loverboy!" His heart fluttered when she sent him a wink, along with her smirk that he fell in love with the first time he saw (it also made him hard but that's neither here nor there).

So yes, he did gently push some people out of the way to get to the table. And he did knock a drink over when he went to pick her up. But in Jake's defense, he hadn't seen her since seven-thirty in the morning and it was only Bradley's drink.

"Hi baby," He said as he pressed his lips to her cheek.

She rolled her eyes, though the smile still remained on her face, "You act like you haven't seen me in forever."

"Because I haven't," Jake murmured against her skin, "It's been ten hours."

"Ten hours?" She repeated, her tone teasing, "You're incorrigible."

"I don't know what that means, but thanks V," He said before pressing his lips against hers.

Before Jake, she wasn't used to PDA. It wasn't a matter of not desiring it, she did. But none of her past relationships were into it, so it wasn't something she pursued.

And then she met Jake. Jake, who would just grab her hand without saying anything. Jake, whose natural inclination was to wrap his arms around her. Jake, who would make the effort to kiss her, even if he was just passing by to get a drink or to unload the dishwasher.

She liked it. She couldn't stop the smile that spread across her face as his lips moved to her nose, then forehead.

"Can you put me down? You're looking a little desperate GI Joe," She teased, quickly placing a chaste kiss on his jawline.

"You like it," He whispered in her ear, gently setting her back down.

"Debatable," She rolled her eyes, trying to fight back a smile as Jake pressed another kiss against her cheek.

"Debatable?" He questioned, "The ring on your left hand says otherwise sweetheart."

Venus looked down at the ring, "I guess."

"You guess?" Jake hummed, his arms now wrapped around her waist, his chin resting on top of her head.

The noise and chatter of the Hard Deck slipped away when she looked up, meeting his emerald eyes. She bit her lower lip, trying to hold back a lovesick smile.

It was no use, as it came out anyway.

"Oh my God they're adorable," Bradley whispered to Natasha, stunned.

"What the hell is happening?" Natasha whispered back, equally as stunned.

"I think they're…in love?" Mickey didn't sound too sure of himself, if at all.

"Of course they are, is it not obvious?" Bob practically scoffed.

"Careful," Natasha teased, elbowing Bob playfully, "Think she still wants to adopt you. Remember who your dad would be."

—------

The rest of the night wasn't anything unusual, save for Natasha, Bradley, Mickey, and Bob asking Venus questions while Jake, Javy, and Reuben played a round of pool.

"So he listens when you tell him to shut up? Like deadass?" Mickey asked.

She raised an eyebrow, "He listens to me regardless of what I say."

"I don't believe it," Bradley started, "We can barely get him to listen to us and-"

"Hey Jake?" Venus called out, remaining in her seat.

Jake looked up from the angling his pool cue, his eyes lightening up when they met hers, "What's up darling?"

"Do you think Sammy and Jess deserved to win Love Island?" Bradley couldn't help but scoff at Venus' question, there was no way-

"Jess did, because she had the best personality of that season and was actually likable. She would have won regardless of who she coupled up with," Jake explained as he briefly looked back to his aim, "Unfortunately she was stuck on Sammy, who did not deserve to win, dude's a fuckboy if I've ever seen one. Is your drink empty?"

The squad wasn't sure what was more shocking, the fact Jake had been able to make a perfect shot without looking again, or how focused he was on another person's needs.

Venus, oblivious to this confusion, raised her empty drink, "I am! Can you get me another gin and tonic please?"

Jake immediately set his pool stick down, ignoring the confused cries of Javy and Reuben as he went to Venus to give her a kiss on the cheek and pick up her glass.

"What did you just do?" Mickey asked as soon as Jake headed over to the bar.

Venus shrugged, "I asked him for another drink. I got his last drink, it's only fair."

"But he was in a middle of a game-"

"The less you think about it, the less confused you'll be," Javy explained, cutting off Reuben.

Javy had long since learned that Jake's focus was now all things Venus. He was pretty sure once Venus became pregnant, she would be able to pry Jake away from a Texas football game.

"How do you get him to listen to you?" Bradley asked, stunned.

"I love her," Jake scoffed because wasn't it obvious? The only people who didn't seem confused by all this were Javy and Bob.

Jake now understood why Venus wanted to adopt the bespectacled WSO.

"So what are we? Chopped liver?" Natasha remarked, a teasing glint in her eyes.

"He just loves y'all a little less," Venus teased, taking her drink from Jake's hands.

Bradley scoffed, "Dude, I was your bunkmate."

"Yeah but did you give him blowjobs frequently?" Venus asked, unaffected by the number of aviators who nearly choked on their drinks. Jake could feel the tops of cheek heat up.

"Well, depended on-" Bradley started, much to the delightful shrieks of Natasha, Javy, and Reuben.

"Alright, it's time for us to go pick a new song," Jake stated loudly, practically pushing his fiancé to the jukebox.

"You're finishing that story later!" Venus called out, pointing to Bradley.

"Only if you convince him not to play Free Rider!" Bradley called back.

Jake dragged away his fiancé, who was now laughing at the antics of his coworkers.

He couldn't help but smile at the sight. She was beautiful like this; eyes squinting, cheeks round as she smiled, skin glowing, not having a care in the world.

Jake would do anything to keep that smile on her face.

"I get to pick," She said, taking the quarter out of Jake's hand.

"Why do you get to pick?" Jake teased before placing a kiss against her temple.

"Because it's my first time here," she started, because wasn't it obvious? "Plus, I want Bradshaw to finish the story."

"You're really about to give Bradshaw what he wants?" Jake put his hand over his heart, "V, that's the most offensive thing you've said to me."

Venus simply raised an eyebrow as she scoffed, "That's the most offensive thing I've said to you? Compared to all the other stuff? Compared to what I said when we first met?"

"I thought it was charming," Jake was completely sincere, which Venus didn't know if she should find that cute or concerning.

"I think you liked being called a Ken doll," she muttered, looking through the list of songs.

Jake wrapped his arms around her waist, nestling his head on her shoulder, "I liked the woman who called me a Ken doll. So much so, I plan to marry her."

Her teeth tugged her bottom lip, a tall-tale sign that she was flustered. She didn't blush, but Jake had learned the signs; she would bite her lip, her lashes would flutter. Her hand that wasn't pressing buttons on the jukebox drummed against the machine, looking for something to do.

"I love you," he whispered. The declaration made her head turn, allowing Jake to steal a kiss.

"Could have just asked."

"Where's the fun in that?" He pressed his lips against a heated cheek, leaving tiny kisses.

Her eyes softened upon looking up at Jake, "How did the meeting go?"

He squeezed the soft flesh of her hip, "Cyclone thinks I have a decent shot at the instructor position. And that I would be a good fit."

The statement caused her eyes to light up. Jake could see that she was trying to hold herself back, trying not to get her hopes up.

"So he'll write you a letter of recommendation?"

He grinned, showing off his pristinely (and blindingly) white teeth, "Him and Mav."

"We stan a short king." She said it half in jest, purely to see Jake's brows knit together in confusion, the five year age difference showing.

"Is that a Tik Tok reference?"

She stifled a giggle as she shook her head, "No. But you're getting there!"

"You make me feel so old," Jake sighed. He thought he was doing so well, until Venus informed him that Instagram reels were just Tik Tok videos shown two weeks later.

She pressed a kiss to his cheek, "So you think you have a shot at it? The position?"

Before meeting her, Jake would have scoffed at the suggestion he wouldn't get something. He knows who he is, what he's capable of.

But he doesn't want to let her down. To disappoint her. They both know what this position would entail; permanence. Not having to be deployed on missions. Not having to be away from her for months at a time. The ability to settle down with her.

"I think so. Cyclone says I have the track record to prove I know the material and I now have the temperance to show I can teach it well."

She grinned, "that's the most polite way to say you're no longer a cocky asshole."

Jake wiggled his eyebrows, eliciting another soft giggle from her.

"Are you sure you're okay with this? If you get the position?" She asked, biting her bottom lip in an attempt to hide her nerves.

When Jake first brought up the idea of applying to the instructor position, she thought he was joking. Why would someone give up the chance to travel around the world, playing the role of a real life superhero?

But then he kept bringing it up, announcing he was going to apply. When questioned, Jake said it was simple.

"Getting that job means I get to stay here, with you."

That's what he said then and it's what he said now.

"Besides," he added, "the chances of me becoming an ace are low. I'm more than happy to be the only one with two confirmed kills in my generation."

Venus' eyes narrowed at him and without breaking eye contact, she pressed a button on the Jukebox.

The notes of Queen's I Want to Break Free filled the Hard Deck, which was followed by the sounds of the squad clapping and thanking Venus.

"Babe!" Jake nearly whined, putting his hand on his heart, "Really?!"

"Oh please, you absolutely deserve that." Venus stated before walking towards the bar.

Jake all but ran after her, grabbing her closest hand.

"So is now a bad time to tell you that today I parked within the lines?"

Venus stopped, her eyes slowly turning towards her fiancé, "Both lines?"

Jake nodded, a proud, albeit cocky smirk adorning his face.

She took a step forward, her face now inches apart from Jake's.

"You know," her voice was low, "If you want me to fuck you, you can just ask."

Jake visibly gulped, the smirk fading as heat rushed to his face, "I mean I, uh, I always want you to-"

"Did you take a picture of it? Your parking job?" She rested her chin on Jake's head, wrapping her arms around his waist. To others, the gesture was very sweet.

But Jake could see the desire in her eyes and it was making his knees weak.

"It's um, how I parked outside of here-"

"I want to see it. And then I want to go home and fuck you," with that, she was walking towards the door, her fingers hooking themselves around one of Jake's belt loops to ensure he followed.

Not that he needed encouragement, he was already trailing right behind her.

#my writing #jake and venus #jake x venus #jake seresin x oc #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman fic #jake hangman imagine #jake seresin #jake seresin x reader #top gun hangman #hangman imagine #hangman fic #hangman fluff #hangman top gun #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin fluff #jake seresin fic

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blackhairedjjun · 2 months

Text

it's you that i'd lie with. - c.yj

pairing: choi yeonjun x gn reader | genre / tropes: angst, apocalypse au (no literally), the end of the world but make it slice of life, non-idol au, best friends to lovers, last-minute getting together (and i really mean last minute!!) | word count: 923 | warnings: implied death, natural disasters, mentioned existential crises, kissing, brief food mentions

part of my 300 followers event (event masterlist)

prompt - LAST: believing it to be their last chance to confess their feelings for the receiver, the sender tells them that they love them. (requested by @beomnoullitheorem - "I don't mind any kind of ending as I love both happy and sad endings, so I'm leaving it all upto you and I'm gonna love any of your work be it having any kind of ending!")

author's notes: hi noulli! unfortunately i don't have a copy of the stuff we talked abt for this prompt since i answered your asks privately, but i tried to remember what we said as best as i can! also i was in a very "wow i wanna kiss him sooooo bad" mood when i wrote this so uh. yeah sldkfskldjf. also the title is from "as the world caves in" by matt maltese!

“do you really think the world will end today, y/n? like what the reporters said?”

you cast a glance up at the cloudless sky, its color a gradient of deep blue to pale yellow. meteor showers fall constantly like rain made of light. “well... if it isn’t ending, it’s putting on a hell of a show.”

yeonjun lets out a soft giggle and pulls you closer in his arms. you sigh happily and rest your head on his chest; his heartbeat is a bit faster than usual, though it is his last day on earth after all. you’ve always been touchy-feely with your best friend, but you’ve never been this close.

as soon as the news reports announced the end of the world a few weeks ago, the two of you instantly knew that you wanted to spend your last day here, at the open-air rooftop restaurant where you first met. you spent the next few weeks saying goodbye to your friends and family, checking a few things off your bucket list, and just... making peace with your life. today you and yeonjun claimed a table overlooking the deserted city below, though there wasn’t any competition anyway 一 the cooks and waitstaff had abandoned the place to spend their last day with their loved ones.

you lift your head up from yeonjun’s embrace to take in one last look at the sky, beautiful yet terrifying, a canvas of light and shadow. you wonder what everyone else is doing: maybe they too are looking at the sky, or maybe they can’t see it at all from the makeshift underground shelters they’ve gone to. maybe some are watching it alone, maybe others are watching it with a loved one, just like you.

just then you feel soft lips on the crown of your head, and you look up to see yeonjun pulling away from his brief kiss. he’s gazing at you with those warm brown eyes, and you can’t help the heat spreading across your cheeks.

“you’re quiet,” he says.

“so are you, jjunie.”

“it’s just... a lot.”

“i know.”

perhaps your brain is making you see things because this is the last time you’ll ever see him, but this is the most beautiful yeonjun has ever looked. strands of black hair fall over his eyes, and as you lift a hand to brush them aside you feel an ache in your heart.

“i was supposed to take you here again for your birthday, y’know,” he says with a small smile.

“really? you didn’t think i’d be sick of it here?”

“nah, you love it here. you’re always ordering their cheesecake.”

you laugh. “i mean, no one makes it like they d一”

just then the earth begins to shake and the whole building sways. yeonjun grabs onto you as you’re both thrown onto the ground. you bury your head in your friend’s chest and grip onto his hoodie; his own grip around your waist tightens and he curls around you. the table topples and nearly lands on your head, only for yeonjun to grab you and roll you away from the spot.

the ground beneath you rumbles, and you can hear the crashing of plates and bottles from the restaurant kitchen. tables and chairs are knocked over. you screw your eyes shut, yet the world doesn’t stop spinning...

and then an alarm starts blaring in the distance, and it’s over as soon as it started. you remain lying on the floor clinging to yeonjun, your knuckles trembling from your grip on his hoodie. he doesn’t move either, holding on to you so tightly as if you might slip away if he let go.

then you feel it again 一 that feather-light kiss on the crown of your head, lingering for longer this time. then another one, further down on your forehead. yeonjun pulls away to look at you, tears pooling in the corners of his eyes, and the ache in your heart gnaws at you even more.

“y/n, i...”

words leave him and the next thing you know, his lips are on yours. he tastes as sweet as you’ve imagined, and you wrap your arms around him to kiss him deeper. the world is spinning again, but for a completely different reason 一 with your body flush against his and his mouth moving roughly against yours, you feel as if every piece of you has been set alight.

you let out a sigh against his lips as he breaks away. he pants slightly, still holding you close, his eyes wide.

“i love you.”

yeonjun is still breathless when he says it. had he said it on any other day, your mind would be full of questions: how long? since when? why are you telling me only now? what happens to us next?

but you don’t have time for questions. instead you lean towards him, meeting those beautiful eyes of his, and whisper, “i love you too.”

you leave a gentle peck on his lips, then another, then it’s his turn to kiss you back. next thing you know his hands are tangled in your hair and you melt into him completely, this new kiss slower than the first yet more desperate. in your last moments you’re going to love him the way you should have when you still had time.

neither of you notice the way the sky darkens to a complete black. the ground shakes again and you hold on to each other.

his warmth is the last thing you ever feel.

#txt x reader #yeonjun x reader #txt x you #yeonjun x you #choi yeonjun x reader #kpop x reader #txt imagines #kpop imagines #yeonjun imagines #txt angst #yeonjun angst #tomorrow x together imagines #txt fic #txt fanfic #yeonjun fanfic #bhj's 300 follower event 🖤#bhj: violet's works

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iluvvpaige · 17 days

Text

Missed You | Female reader x Caitlin Clark

Summary: Caitlin has gotten drafted to the WNBA and it feels like you haven’t seen her in ages. Little do you know, she has a surprise.

Part 1

It’s been 3 weeks since Caitlin got drafted to Indiana Fever. and it feels like i haven’t seen her in ages. Interviews, training camps, tv shows had all taken over my girlfriend.

“I miss you so much, baby” Caitlin says over facetime, her voice raspy. “I miss you too, cait.” I reply, pulling the blank over me. “How’d training camp go?” I ask, turning the brightness up on my computer.

“Ehh. I mean it went well, i’ve adapted to the team and shit. They treat me amazing but i dunno. Y’know. Being a rookie and all it’s.. i dunno. unreal almost.” She says. “I get you, baby. It’s okay. You weren’t the number 1 pick in the draft for nothing.” I reply, reassuring her.

“yeah. So what are you doing right now, hm?” She asks, pulling her phone up. “Just talking to you. It’s been so boring without you. I miss you a lot. My mom says i’m acting depressed without you.” I chuckle. “I miss you a lot too, princess. You don’t know how many times i’ve cried because you weren’t at my first day of training camp.” She replies.

“Vannessa!” I hear from downstairs. “Hold on, cait, my mom is calling me.” I say. “Okay” She replies, going on her phone. “Yes?” I yell to her. “Do you know where my red lipstick is?” She says, walking into my room. “Hi, mrs. Katz” Caitlin yells through the facetime call.

“Hey, cait! everything good down there?” My mom replies, peeking her head at my laptop. “Yup.” Caitlin says. “That’s good. Nessa, hunny, have you seen my red lipstick? i’m going out with your dad.” She asks. “Uhm last time i checked it was in the bathroom, in your makeup drawer.” I say to her as she nods and walks out.

“Princess, it’s getting late, i have to go to sleep. We can sleep on the phone of you want.” Caitlin says. “Okay. let’s sleep on the phone, i’ll mute myself to not wake you.” I reply. “Okay. Goodnight, I love you, baby” She says. “Goodnight, love you too.” I say, blowing her a kiss through the phone and muting it.

•

The last couple of days me and Caitlin have been facetiming less and less. It’s killing me inside. I miss her face. I miss her laugh. I moss the way she calls me princess. I miss her.

‘Open the door’ Caitlin texts me. ‘??’ I reply. ‘open the door, will you, ma? it’s cold as shit out here.’ She texts back.

I immediately hop out of my bed and sprint down the stairs running to the door. Sure enough, Caitlin is standing there. Bags in her hand, A black Nike tech on with White Air forces.

“caitlin!” I scream as i jump onto her, making her drop her begs. “I missed you so much.” I say, tearing up. My mom runs down the stairs to see the commotion and she sees me and cait.

I hop down and try to hide that i’m crying, but it’s clear as day. “Baby, are you crying?” Caitlin asks, laughing a little. I nod as i tear up way more. “I just missed you so much.” I say as i hug her again. She walks into my house and says hi to my brother, dad, and mom and we go upstairs to my room.

I sit down on her lap as i hug her more. “Baby, i missed you so much.” I say into her shoulder. “I’m gonna be here for a week.” She says into my ear. “Really?!” I yell out in excitement. She nods at me and i hug her again.

“We’re gonna have the best week ever.” I say into her shoulder. Fuck, I missed her scent. She was really gonna be here for a week.

•

It’s currently 10:47 pm and me and caitlin are watching a movie. I’m laying on top of her, my head on her chest and legs over hers, her hand rubbing circles on my upper thigh. she plants a small kiss on my forehead and i feel her phone buzz.

A group chat titled ‘Indiana fever’ texts her. “It’s the team group chat” She says. I hum and go back to watching the movie. “Why didn’t you stay at your dorm?” She asks, stroking my hair.

I shrug my shoulders in response. “I wanted to come home.” I say. She nods and kisses my forehead. “Baby” I say, turning to face her. “huh?” She replies. I say nothing and just kiss her.

By the second, the kiss got sloppier and sloppier. Her hands slipping up my shirt, rubbing my back. I sit up on top of her, still kissing me.

I pulled my shirt off as well as hers, knowing exactly what i was doing. god i missed this.

•

part 2 w smut coming 🤗🤗

#caitlin clark smut #caitlin clark #basketball #wlw #iowa wbb #iowa hawkeyes #cute #read please #wlw post

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daisyvisions · 28 days

Text

Unspoken Words (Pt. 2)

➺ Pairing: best friend!Sangyeon x afab!reader x enemy!Hyunjae

➺ Summary: If someone were to tell you that you'd be in a fake relationship with the person you despise the most just to make your best friend jealous, you would've laughed in their face. But here you are... caught up in this exact situation.

➺ Word Count: 3.2K

➺ Warnings: Smut (18+, minors DNI) buckle up y’all, this chapter purely filth, fake dating, mutual pining, angst, jealousy, implied p in v sex, morning sex, oral (fem! receiving), fingering, tit sucking, marking, some hair pulling, lots of kissing once again, mentions of grinding, allusions to jerking off, pet name (sweetheart, baby), let me know if I missed anything!

➺ A/N: After five months… I am so sorry for taking this long. The lack of inspiration really hit me and I just couldn't seem to continue writing this series. But not to worry! Part 2 is finally here! Originally this was gonna be the final part but decided to extend it to maybe 1-2 more parts and this time I will NOT take a while to write! Proofread once, enjoy 😉

➺ Read Part 1 here!

➺ Network and tags: @deoboyznet @winterchimez @aimeecarreros @snowflakewhispers

“Hyunjae we have to go, we’re gonna miss our next class.” You giggle.

“Just a little longer-” He groans against the column of your throat.

It was hard to separate the two of you ever since that intimate night you shared. You found yourselves tangled in each other’s arms almost every other day, kissing each other until you were almost out of breath, and sneaking in a few stolen glances at one another when given the chance. It was like your trust in him grew as well as your friendship.

And even if you told yourself after that night that would be the only time you would allow Hyunjae to cross the line, you both knew it was a lie. And even if he never forced or coerced you into doing it again, it was you who wanted to experience everything you’ve been missing out on. Thank god he was well experienced in that field, since most of the time he took the lead and taught you everything you needed to know.

After all, you were just a girl with needs. And Hyunjae was more than willing to give you what you wanted.

And the way he treated you with utmost care, how he always made sure your pleasure came first before his, the way he looked at you like you were from another world, it was always overwhelming to you in a good way. Sometimes you had to mentally slap yourself in the face and remember that this is all fake. You two aren’t really together, and this is all just to make him jealous.

But somewhere deep down you knew that the more you spent time with Hyunjae, Sangyeon was slowly becoming a distant memory.

“Okay, five more minutes then we have to go okay?” You lift his chin up, his heavy lidded eyes looking at you so sweetly. You kiss the tip of his nose and let him continue with his ministrations.

His hands were gripping onto the softness of your hips while you gently grind your core on his semi-hard bulge, making sure you don’t rock your hips too hard to avoid the car from shaking. You feel his fingers digging into your skin further, a familiar signal that he wants you to roll your hips harder.

“Don’t want to go…” Hyunjae whines from beneath, pulling away from your neck to look up at you with those cute doe eyes. An expression you once thought was gross now has you going weak in the knees.

“C’mon, just a few more hours then I'll come over to your place after my last class, promise.” You caress his cheek.

“C-can you sleep over this time? Please?” He looks at you with pleading eyes. “We can watch a movie, set time to study and-”

“Hyunjae, we both know we won’t be able to study. We never do.” You tease.

“I’m studying your body does that count? Y’know… female anatomy and all?” You lightly slap him in the arm as he chuckles. “I should be getting an A+ in biology with you at this point.”

“Mhm, you sure would.” You kiss his forehead before getting off him. Both of you adjusting your clothes before getting out of the car.

“What about your roommate? Does he mind? Not gonna lie I was kinda embarrassed about last time. Couldn’t really look him in the eye when I came out of your room.” You look up at Hyunjae as you walk side by side.

“Nah, he won’t mind. He says your moans are hot so he’s cool with it.”

“Hyunjae!” You feel your cheeks warm up at the thought.

“What? Can you blame him?” Hyunjae shrugs.

“Please, I don’t want him to be thinking of me like that…”

“He doesn't, believe me.” He turns his head quickly after realizing what he had just said before you said anything in return. “Not because you aren’t attractive, because you totally are-” Your heart slightly flutters in the middle of his ramble.

"-Juyeon just has a high tolerance to that kind of stuff for some strange reason. Moans and sounds of sex don’t phase him at all. Unlike me, a little gasp or moan from you and I’m-” Hyunjae raises his hand, his finger gesturing an upwards motion as he makes a popping sound with his mouth.

The sound of you laughing at Hyunjae’s gesture brings a warm feeling bubbling inside his stomach, a sound he would never get tired of to be honest. But he’s totally unaware of the feeling as he’s too focused on how you smile at him.

“So 7:30? I can pick you up from yours, we can go out to eat quick then go back to my place.”

“I think I’ll just hitch a ride with you after class. Is it okay if I just borrow your clothes instead? Kind of lazy to go back home.” You ask.

Good thing your eyes were focused on looking ahead, because if you turned up to look at Hyunjae you would've seen the dust of pink showing on his cheeks. The thought of you wearing his clothes made him more flustered than he had cared to admit.

“Y-yeah sure. I’ve got extra towels, toothbrush, the works. Just text me when you’re done.” You nod as you both stop at the front of your classroom.

As he leans forward and slightly ruffles your hair he holds back the urge to kiss the top of your head and instead leans down closer to your ear to whisper,

“I’ll see you later sweetheart.”

The next morning you’re awakened by the feeling of the sun’s warmth slowly shining on your skin through the curtains. As you blink slowly, you feel a warm presence behind you, arms wrapped around your torso as Hyunjae’s breathing lightly touches the back of your neck.

Last night’s activities were replaying in your head once more as you start to fully blink your eyes open. You two wasted no time going at each other as soon as you stepped foot into his apartment, completely forgetting the movie and anything else you had planned out.

You loved little moments like this, being in Hyunjae’s arms, in his room, under his blanket as he held you close. It always gave you some sense of protection, especially when he would cuddle you to sleep and never let go.

You pry yourself free from Hyunjae’s embrace and decide to get up and make some coffee for the two of you, something you’ve grown accustom to whenever you’re at his apartment. Hyunjae groans in his sleep as you move, his hands subconsciously looking for your figure to hold again but you instead tuck him in gently and smile at the way he looks so peaceful right now.

Sleepiness hangs heavy on you as you go out of Hyunjae’s room, wearing nothing but his oversized shirt and your underwear beneath as make your way to the kitchen, eyes too droopy to even notice anything around you while you grab two mugs from the upper shelf and pop in the coffee pods inside the machine.

You subconsciously hum a tune while waiting for the coffee to fill the mugs, grabbing the milk from the refrigerator and the sugar from the pantry. As you continue to stir the milk and sugar inside the cups, you suddenly hear someone clear their throat behind you. As you turn around to see who it might be you suddenly gasp and wake up from your groggy state.

You see Sangyeon sitting by the counter with a coffee cup in his hand, staring at you with a look in his eyes that you’ve never seen before.

“Oh my god you scared me.” You hold your hand to your chest as you try to calm down. “Wait, what the hell are you doing here?” You ask him.

“I could ask you the same thing.” He takes a sip from his mug as his gaze stays on you.

“I-uh…” You pause for a moment. “Slept over.” You look down at your feet as you avoid looking at him.

“So you slept over here… You slept over at Juyeon’s?” He tilts his head in confusion. But deep down Sangyeon could feel jealousy bubbling within his stomach but also trying to hide the fact that he’s semi hard right now seeing you like this.

The way the shirt you were wearing rode up as you reached for the coffee mugs in the upper shelf, giving him a glimpse of your ass in the process. He nearly choked on his coffee mid sip from that. From all the years he’s known you he’s never seen your ass nearly on full display like that before.

And the way you bent down to get the milk from the refrigerator? He had to immediately avert his eyes before he got extremely hard at seeing the outline of your cunt beneath your underwear. But as he looked back at you after, he couldn’t help but notice the marks that were littered on your throat, making him visibly upset.

“Oh god no not Juyeon! I uh- well…” Before you could even continue, Juyeon suddenly appears in the room.

“Here are the books we need for our research on- oh! Hey!” Juyeon smiles at you. “You sleep well last night?”

“Y-yeah I did.” Your cheeks blush, suddenly becoming very aware at the fact of how exposed you are right now. “I gotta go. Talk later okay? Bye Juyeon and… Sangyeon.” You rush to get the two coffee mugs on the counter and head back to Hyunjae’s room. As soon as you close the door Juyeon turns to Sangyeon, whose eyes never left your figure ever since you walked in the kitchen.

“She’s a loud one I'll tell you that.” Juyeon says to Sangyeon as he lays the books on the table.

“Excuse me?” Sangyeon’s eyebrows pinch together.

“I mean, that must be a good thing right? She’s always loud whenever she’s inside Hyunjae’s room. Means he’s really taking care of her if you know what I mean” Juyeon smirks.

“H-hyunjae?” Sangyeon’s eyes widen.

“Yeah! Oh sorry, I forgot to tell you he’s my roommate. Anyway, yeah he always gets her making these really pretty noises. It happens so often that it doesn’t bother me at all. If only I find someone like that too.” Juyeon sighs

“Aren’t you two like best friends or something? Doesn’t she tell you where she goes?”

“No… She hasn’t.” Sangyeon mutters under his breath.

At first Sangyeon thought Juyeon was the reason why you were here, but now knowing it was Hyunjae and what Juyeon had accidentally revealed made him ball his fists together. The veins in his neck slowly popping as he clenched his jaw.

As you close the door behind you, you immediately put down the coffee mugs on the bedside table and sit at the edge of the bed, your eyes wide as ever as you internally freak out from the unexpected encounter with Sangyeon in the kitchen.

“Hey you.” You feel two arms wrap around your waist and a kiss on your shoulder.

“Hey…” Your voice shakes as you stare at the window in front of you.

“Did you make coffee for the two of us? You’re so sweet.” Hyunjae kisses your neck as he leans his chin on your shoulder.

“We have a problem.” You blurt.

“Hm? What’s wrong?” Hyunjae sits up and tries to get you to face him.

“Sangyeon he’s- he’s outside in the fucking kitchen and oh god- he must’ve seen my ass and all the marks you left on my neck!” You quickly say.

“Woah woah slow down I just woke up.” Hyunjae rubs his eyes. “Say that again?”

It takes a while for Hyunjae to process everything you’ve just said, but he grins as an idea suddenly pops into his head. Before you know it, Hyunjae quickly pulls you towards him and immediately has you under him, making you squeal from the sudden action.

“Hyunjae what are you doing?!” You loudly whisper.

“Breakfast! I’m starving…”

Before you could even ask what he meant Hyunjae’s lips are on your neck as he litters your skin with kisses. His hands sneak their way beneath your shirt and immediately grab your breasts in his hands, his thumbs flicking at your sensitive buds as you impulsively let out a moan.

“Oh fuck…” You groan as your fingers thread through his hair. It was like a switch suddenly turned off inside your head because now you can only think about Hyunjae.

“God can’t wait to taste you.” Hyunjae whispers against your ear as his fingers start pulling down your underwear. “Relax baby, let me do all the work.” Hyunjae grips the hem of your shirt and pulls it up enough to expose your breasts, the sound of his groan seeing your bare chest making your core pulse in excitement.

He wastes no time and immediately latches his lips onto your nipple, sucking it slowly as one hand rolls your other nipple between his fingers while the other cups your mound before running his fingers between your slick folds.

“You’re so fucking wet, is this all for me?” He whispers against your mouth. You nod your instead and let out a small whimper.

“C’mon now, need to hear you say it baby.”

“Y-yes… All for you.” You mumble.

He slowly runs his fingers in-between your folds, teasingly letting them get caught in your entrance before running them up to circle your clit. Every touch he leaves always has you brain dead in seconds. It was amazing how quick he remembered what you liked, and how well he observed the way you responded to his touch.

Now you finally understood why all his past conquests would never shut up about him.

“That’s a good girl.” He coos. Your back arches at how he expertly rubs the tips of fingers against your bud, your core throbbing when he stares right into your soul as he licks your essence on his fingers.

“Let me make you feel really good okay?” Hyunjae kisses your lips before slowly kissing his way from your neck all the way to your inner thighs. He playfully nips at your soft skin, making you yelp before he licks the spot to sooth any pain.

“So beautiful…” Hyunjae brings two fingers to spread your folds apart, admiring the way your slick glistens in the light. He’s not even that close and he can already taste your sweet sweet essence in his mouth from the smell alone.

“Hyunjae… please…” You beg, feeling his hot breath so close to your core. And without hesitation, he licks a fat stripe between your folds. The way he darts the tip of his tongue and traces it along your pussy as you spiraling.

Hyunjae latches his lips onto you, licking and sucking your sensitive bud as his hands grab the back of your thighs and pulls them over to his shoulder, further burying his face against your cunt. He subconsciously inserts two fingers in your entrance, making you arch your back further. Nothing but the sound of slurping, groaning, and endless moaning fills the room as you pull onto his hair. Hyunjae grips onto your thighs further, locking you in as he subconsciously grinds his hips onto the mattress seeking that needed friction on his member.

Your moans and the way you chant his name like a prayer are heard through the door. Though muffled, it was nearly echoing through the whole apartment. And it was especially ringing through Sangyeon’s ears as if he was inside in that room with you.

Sangyeon taps his foot anxiously as he tries to unclench his tightened jaw. If you could see him right now, there would be steam coming out from his nostrils like a raging bull from how pissed off he is at the moment.

The entire scenario confuses him deeply. While he should be mad at the fact he can hear what you’re up to, he is just a man after all. His crotch area starts to tighten beneath his jeans, making it uncomfortable for him to sit properly.

He really wishes it was his name that you were moaning to instead of Hyunjae’s. Wishing he was the reason for those angelic sounds, wishing he was loving you the way he should’ve. Regret starting to invade his mind as he continues to hear your voice behind the door. All of this wouldn’t have happened if he had just told you the truth about that night instead of running away like a coward.

“I-I’m cumming!”

“That’s it, that’s my good girl.” Hyunjae emphasizes.

As soon as Sangyeon heard both of your muffled voices, he snapped. He immediately got up from the chair, hastily gathered his things from the table, and rushed out of the apartment slamming the front door in the process. He couldn’t stand staying for another second and the high chance of seeing the both of you come out of that room at the same time.

‘Left, can’t focus at your place. Let’s meet by the cafe near school instead.’

Sangyeon hits send to Juyeon before throwing his phone to the side in his car. His fingers rushing to unbuckle his belt and free his aching member from his jeans and take care of his “problem” right then and there before heading to the cafe.

While you came down from your high, you both hear the front door of the apartment slam. The loud sound suddenly bringing you back to reality that Sangyeon was outside the whole time Hyunjae was eating you out and probably heard you both loud and clear.

“Oh shit Hyunjae I think he’s still-”

“Don’t worry, he’s gone.” Hyunjae lifts his head and looks at your with a mischievous grin on his face, a sheen of your essence coating his lips.

“How did you know?” you look back at him confused.

“Again, Juyeon does not give a fuck. Who else would be slamming doors while you scream my name?” You slap Hyunjae’s arm while a loud laugh erupts from his throat.

“You ass, you did that on purpose!” Your eyes widen, suddenly feeling embarrassed to look at Hyunjae.

“But you loved it anyway.” Hyunjae kisses your inner thigh before getting up and hovering above you, his incredibly hard bulge slightly nudging your core.

He leans down to kiss you and gives the back of your thigh a good slap, making you gasp at the sudden sting on your skin.

“Now c’mon, on your knees sweetheart. Wanna see you come on my cock this time.”

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multiversalshifting · 10 months

Text

My Type~ George Weasley x Reader

Pairing: George Weasley x fem!reader Summary: You're getting closer to your best friend Lee Jordan, nothing wrong with that, right? Warnings: none (perhaps angst if you SQUINT)

“Where’s Lee?” you asked, taking a bite of the apple you picked out from the pile of delicious-looking green fruit in front of you. Breakfast was always your favorite part of the day. After all of this time at Hogwarts, you were still enamored by the feast-sized meals they supplied the students.

Fred snorted beside you, glancing past you to look at his twin. You turned towards him and raised your eyebrows.

“What?” you quipped, wiping your mouth with your sleeve as you took another bite of your apple.

“He promised me he’d help me finish my potions essay. You know, because we were partners for the last project? When we had to brew Draught of Living Death? I’ve been looking for him all morning and I can’t find him anywhere,” you said as you tried to find a napkin. George shot him daggers behind your back.

Fred just smirked and turned back to his breakfast. George cleared his throat.

“I think he’s at the Owlery. He said something about sending in a Zonko order form this morning,” he mumbled.

“Oh, okay,” you shrugged, smiling at George, then finishing your apple.

Suddenly George got up. You and Fred looked at him. He pointed lamely over his shoulder.

“I, uh, think I have detention. I must’ve forgotten,” he said, as he backed away from the table, averting his eyes.

You and Fred watched him turn and hurry out of the Great Hall. You looked at Fred for an explanation. He just rolled his eyes.

“Was it something I said?”

“It’s about Jordan,” he snorted, waggling his eyebrows at you.

You were lost. Lee Jordan was one of your best friends. Along with the twins, the four of you had been inseparable from the start of your career at Hogwarts. What’s changed?

Fred studied you for a bit. He took a bite of his eggs.

“You two have been spending an awful lot of time together lately, y’know,” he said, pointing his fork at you.

You shoved him.

“Jesus, Fred! Lee’s just a friend! We’re friends! Just friends! Friends! That’s it! Bloody hell, he’s like my brother. God, that’s like saying I liked you.”

He scrunched his nose up and laughed, blocking your fake punches.

“Alright, alright! I knew you didn’t like him. George has got his wand all in a knot about it, though.”

Butterflies fluttered in your stomach. The thought of George being jealous crossed your mind. Even it being a possibility made your face flush.

“Why is George concerned about Lee and I?” you asked.

Fred shrugged.

“Oh you know, Jordan’s been his best friend since the beginning of time and you’re his girl best friend. He’s always been a sensitive sod,” he said, watching you carefully.

“Oh, right.” You looked down at your hands in your lap. It was stupid to get your hopes up. George is one of your best friends, and things are better off remaining the way they are. Just staying friends. Even if it kills you.

Fred cleared his throat and tore you out of your thoughts.

“So, I mean, why not Jordan?” he asked, smirking, taking a sip of his pumpkin juice.

You choked a little bit on the toast you were attempting to swallow.

“Huh?” you rasped.

“Well,” he started, grabbing an apple for himself, “he’s smart, funny, pretty attractive, and you guys get on really well. Why not Jordan? Is there someone else? Have you been hiding something from me, Y/N?” he made a face of mock hurt and clutched his chest.

Your face turned bright red. He bolted right up and yelled.

“I knew it!”

You buried your face in the sleeves of your robes face down on the table.

“He’s just not my type!” you mumbled.

“Didn’t quite catch that, love,” he laughed, elbowing you.

You sat up in your seat and looked at him sheepishly.

“He’s just not my type,” you shrugged.

“Ah! So who is?” he grinned.

You studied him. You shook your head.

“You’ll never let me live it down. You’ll never let it go, either,” you told him.

He smiled mischievously.

“I will absolutely never let you live it down, I will absolutely never let it go, and more importantly I’m going to completely get on your absolute last nerve about it. But on the bright side, I already know who it is.”

Your eyes grew wide.

“Y-you-w-what-h-how?!” you stuttered, growing more flustered by the second.

Fred chuckled.

“I swear to Godric, you look at the bloke as if he’s single-handedly slayed a dragon for you. You started coming to Gryffindor Quidditch games even when your own house wasn’t competing, but you had completely tuned out the match itself. You had your eyes trained on his every move. Y/N, even our own mother can’t tell us apart sometimes, and while I’m flattered I’m involved in that deal because you’re my best friend, I know for a fact that you learned George’s name first.”

He paused and studied your face for a moment before something behind you caught his eye, and he grinned, looking back at you.

“He looks at you the same way.”

#george weasley #harry potter #fred weasley #reality shifting #george weasly x reader #george weasley fic #george weasley fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fandom #hp fandom #shifting community #weasley twins #george weasley x y/n #harry james potter #ron weasley

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sunlightmurdock · 2 years

Text

Helping Hand (Bradley Bradshaw x Pilot!Reader) 18+

Synopsis: Reader is a pilot who has just gotten out of a shitty relationship and is complaining at the bar about her bad experiences in bed. Lieutenant Bradshaw is more than happy to lend a helping hand.

Warnings: Smut, vaginal sex, oral sex. Alcohol. (no excessive drinking / drunk sex). Strong language. Mature themes.

Under 18s please DNI.

…

“He wasn’t a bad guy, he just…” you sighed over your glass, shaking your head slightly as you thought back over the last two years. You lifted your head finally to look Phoenix in the eye for the first time in about thirty minutes. You giggled a little, embarassed at the admission, “He didn’t ever make me… y’know… finish.”

Phoenix’s eyes went wide, her mouth falling open. Please don’t, you prayed silently. “In two years? He didn’t make you come once in two years?” There it was. The Hard Deck was exceptionally loud at the best of times, but so was Phoenix after a drink.

You winced, feeling a few people in the vicinity turn to look at you. She realised her mistake, wincing and putting her hands up defensively, already backing away from you.

"Two whole years?" You flinched slightly, looking over your shoulder to find the source of the voice, sighing half in relief to find Rooster standing there. At least it wasn't Hangman. You simply shook your head and pinched the bridge of your nose.

"I mean, I hope you don't mind me asking but — why the hell were you still with him?" Rooster took the empty stool next to you, pulling it closer so that your knees were touching his. You groaned softly and shrugged your shoulders, “He was... cute."

Rooster laughed. He laughed heartily at that comment, his hand wrapped around a brown beer bottle, his sunglasses still on even though the sun had already set.

"Aw, honey." He put his free hand on your knee. You glanced down at his tanned hand, eyeing the silver class ring on his hand whilst his thumb stroked gently at your skin. You raised an eyebrow at him quizzically, leaning back slightly, “What are you doing?"

Caught, Rooster only seemed to be spurred on. His lips curled up into a grin, his broad shoulders rose and fell again in a casual shrug,

"Just comforting a friend." He patted your knee again and leaned in a little closer, "Lending a helping hand, whatever she wants."

Your lips parted slightly in surprise. You would've expected this from one of the other guys maybe, but Rooster had always been nothing but professional and respectful towards you.

"Do I need a helping hand?" You scoffed, trying to regain some control over the conversation like he couldn't see how flustered he had already made you. Rooster's grin only grew, "Seems that way to me." He confirmed, his hand sliding just past your knee to squeeze your thigh.

Your eyes flickered between his hand and his face. He had you right where he wanted you and he knew it.

You turned away from him, facing the bar, crossing your legs and pulling your drink closer,

"You guys think you're such hot shit." You forced a laugh, trying to make it seem like you weren't already a little wet. "Pilots."

Rooster laughed again at this comment, reaching into his pocket and putting a fifty down on the bar, your tab officially settled.

"Come home with me." It wasn't a question, you both knew that. You watched his lips move, yours parted slightly in anticipation.

As the only women in the group, you and Phoenix often joked about how the guys around here usually thought with what was between their legs more than their heads. Maybe you were officially one of the team, because it certainly wasn't your brain making the decision to nod at him, or follow him out of the bar.

Even in the passenger seat of his jeep, your brain was still struggling to compute what the hell you were doing here. You had only been single for six hours, and yet here you were headed home with someone you had known since flight school. Rooster, of all people. Kind, sweet, hilarious, Rooster. If it was Payback or Hangman, maybe that would've made sense, they had been making passes at you for years.

Once you were back at his place and he was offering you a drink, you couldn't help but just stare at him and wondering what the hell you were even doing here. The thought crossed your mind that maybe he didn't even know what he was doing either.

"Cat got your tongue?" Rooster teased, crossing the kitchen to you and lifting your chin to look at him. You blinked, lips parting. Rooster raised an eyebrow at you, expectantly.

"C'mon, honey. Use your words."

There weren't the correct words in the English language to describe the state of shock you were in currently.

Rooster swiped his thumb across your bottom lip, "Ask me to fuck you." Your heart thundered against your chest so hard, you wondered if he could hear it. Your neck craned back to look him in the eye, swallowing hard.

"Ask me nicely." Rooster's hand curled around your jaw, keeping your face pointed toward him. You weren't sure if his grip on you was the only thing keeping you on your feet.

"Please." You managed pathetically, eyes still on his. Pleased with your answer, he released your jaw, grabbing you instead by the waist and planting you on the kitchen counter behind you. His lips were on yours, his moustache scratching the top of your lip as he slid his tongue into your mouth, holding you close to him by the waist.

You caught his arm to steady yourself, surprised by how firm it was. You allowed yourself to look him over. How had you never noticed how ripped he was?

His free hand slid under your shirt, massaging your chest over your bra with a level of expertise you had also not been expecting. You wished you had worn a matching set. You lifted both arms up, allowing him to strip you of the shirt in one quick move, pressing your lips against his again hungrily.

"How many times d'you think you can cum?" Rooster muttered against your lips, sliding his hands down your torso and stopping at the waistband of your denim shorts, popping open the button and pulling back to look at you.

"Kind of a cocky thing to ask." You breathed, giggling at his confidence. Rooster's lips curled up, that smug smile back on his face as he lifted your hips off of the counter enough to pull your shorts down, you kicked your flip flops off with them, gasping as he grabbed your knees and pulled you to the edge.

His hand trailed along the inside of your thigh, tantalisingly slow, until he finally reached your clothed core. His eyes remained on your face, watching you take your lip between your teeth as he began to trace delicate patterns over your core through your underwear. Not touching any one place enough to satisfy you, touching you just enough to send sparks through you.

His other hand brushed your hair off of you shoulder and held you by the nape of your neck, keeping you looking at him. You hummed quietly, the motions of his fingertips sending tingles through your nerves. Your skin felt like it was on fire. Finally, his gaze unwavering, he nudged your underwear to the side with the knuckle of his index finger. The pad of his middle finger grazed your clit, causing you to jolt slightly.

“I’ve got you.” Rooster promised, capturing your lips and leaving you with a filthy, open mouthed, kiss. Your heart felt like it was going to burst out of your chest. You didn’t even realised you had made a noise until he looked back at you, pleased with the soft whine you had made.

“Feel good, baby?” He whispered, his index and middle fingers drawing circles around her clit. Everything he was doing was so slow, he knew that it was driving you nuts, he could feel the pulse between your legs on his fingers.

You nodded eagerly at him, parting your legs further for him to step between. Hand still on the back of your neck, he brought you in and kissed you again. This kiss was deeper, longer, you were moaning against his lips before he pulled away. His fingers moved in a steady pace over your clit — he made it seem so easy.

“You want more?” Rooster’s voice was low, gravelly. He slid his two fingers down to your hole and back again, keeping his focus mainly on your clit. You knew he knew how wet you were for him — maybe you should have been embarrassed about how desperate you were for him, but that was the furthest thing from your mind right now. You nodded at him eagerly.

“Ask me nicely.” He instructed, halting his fingers all together, making you whimper and knot your brows together in frustration.

“Fuck, please. More.” You whimpered, fingers digging into his bicep.

He drew you in for another, agonisingly slow kiss as his fingers slid down and teased at your entrance. His middle pushed in first, curling against your g-spot and making you jolt again, gasping. Rooster’s eyes twinkled mischievously as he released your neck and grabbed your hip instead, slipping a second finger into you.

You kissed him, grabbing a handful of his sandy hair, soft moans spilling out against his lips. He moved his long fingers in and out steadily, curling them upwards into you expertly, while his thumb found its way back onto your clit. His lips moved confidently against yours, his tongue in your mouth and his other hand on your breast. He kept going like this, speeding up steadily and eventually you could feel yourself starting to clench down around his fingers as you felt your orgasm approach.

“Fuckfuckfuck, I’mgonnacum.” You chanted, resting your forehead against his shoulder, your fingers leaving nail marks on his bicep. Rooster kissed at your neck, your ear, your jaw, slipping his fingers out of you and squeezing your thighs.

“You got a couple more for me, right, honey?” His fingers popped open the clasp of your bra and slipped it off of your shoulders while you were still seeing stars.

“Gimme a second, holy shit.” You squeezed your eyes shut and leaned back on your elbows, whimpering as you felt him slip between your legs.

You lifted your hips and allowed him to pull your underwear down, whimpering gently as he put your thighs over his shoulders. His lips were on your thighs, kissing them both, sucking at the skin, teasing you with marks you already knew would still be there tomorrow.

“Fuck, Bradshaw.” You breathed as he buried his head between your legs, sliding your fingers up into his hair as his tongue pressed flat against your sensitive clit. He adjusted his board shorts slightly, easing the discomfort, while his other hand gripped your hip, keeping you in place.

He slipped two fingers into you again, his lips planting firmly over your clit and sucking at the sensitive bundle of nerves. You fell back against the counter, involuntarily pushing your hips up against him, “Bradley, fuck!”

He held you back down against the counter, his other hand curling his fingers inside of you, drawing more sweet moans out of your lips. This was a welcome contrast to the vow of nervous silence you had apparently taken in the car.

Your fingers caressed his scalp, tugging at his hair gently, your head back in pleasure. He pulled you closer by your hips, removing his fingers and burying his tongue in you before you had chance to complain, his thumb taking over on your clit, working firm motions around the nerves.

He groaned softly against your core, making you writhe against him, your hand white-knuckling around the counter. You knew his name, and he had a cute name, but something in you had you chanting his call sign as he made you come for a second time.

You still couldn’t really think straight when he was pulling you into his arms again, kissing your temple, your cheek and then your lips,

“You like that, baby?” He breathed, chuckling softly as you hummed against his chest.

“I want you to fuck me. Rooster, please fuck me.” You grabbed the back of his neck, pressing your lips against his desperately. He guided your legs around him, lifting you off the counter and carrying you with him. You didn’t know or care where, gasping as you hit his mattress with a bounce.

“Since you asked so nicely.” He teased, shedding his white vest. You crawled to the edge of the bed, pushing yourself up onto your knees and popping open the button of his shorts. He cupped your jaw, stroking the skin of his cheek as you dragged his zipper down.

“Tell me how you want it.” He demanded, hooking a thumb into his shorts and pushing them down enough to set his cock free. He watched you swallow, eye to eye with his length.

“Just fuck me. Please.” You breathed, your hand resting against his thigh as you looked up at him. “Turn around.” You obeyed him immediately, turning around and raising your ass for him. His fingers stroked along your core, teasing at your entrance once more,

“Such a pretty pussy.” He breathed. You whined desperately for him, relieved as you felt the bed dip under the weight of his knee, his cock lining up between your legs. You squeezed your eyes shut, feeling his hand on the back of your neck as he thrust into you sharply, making you gasp out. He grunted softly behind you, pushing your head down closer to the mattress.

You moaned softly for him as you felt him bottom out, breathing hard at the stretch, still wanting to do well for him. You felt him wait for you, kissing the base of your spine gently.

“I can take it.” You promised him, reaching back and placing your hand on top of his as it was curled around your hip. He groaned, digging his fingers harder into your hip as he began to move his hips, fucking you hard and fast.

“Goddamn,” he whispered through gritted teeth, eyes shut and head pulled back as he found a pace, hips snapping with every one of his thrusts. You lasted maybe a minute before your knees buckled under you, his hand sliding under your stomach and lifting you back up onto your knees. He liked it, knowing he was the only thing keeping you upright. “Fuck, you feel good.”

You made a pathetic sound of agreement, his hand still on the back of your neck and he pounded you into his mattress. It wasn’t easy to focus on keeping yourself upright when Brad’s cock brushed perfectly against your most sensitive spot each and every time he buried himself in you.

Beads of sweat began to form on his forehead as he fucked into you, his hand sliding from the back of your neck to the base of your throat, pulling your back against his bare chest. You gasped desperately at the new position, moaning his name as your head fell back against his shoulder.

“Got one more for me, honey?” He breathed, his hand slipping between you legs and finding your clit once again. You whined, his fingers quickly circling the sensitive bud, shaking your head. “One more, honey. You can do one more, I know you’re close.”

He was right, you were. You dug your fingernails into his thigh as his other hand pawed at your breast. You squeezed your eyes shut, gripping his thigh tight as he made you see stars again. If you weren’t leaning back against him, you would’ve collapsed.

“That’s my girl.” He praised, lips at your ear. You felt his hips stutter slightly, his hand coming back to grip at your hip again. He grunted softly and gave a few more sloppy thrusts before he was spilling inside of you, his head buried in the crook of your neck.

He rolled onto his back, letting out a hard breath and pulling you down against his chest, kissing the top of your head.

“Where the hell were you the past two years of my life?” You murmured against his salty skin, humming contentedly. Rooster chuckled, kissing your temple delicately, “Right here, baby. Right here.”

…

Tag list (inbox me to be added or removed)

@20th-centu-fairy-girl @nattygee

@blendedcookiez @em2213

#bradley bradshaw smut #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #rooster x you #rooster bradshaw imagine #top gun smut #miles teller

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snzhrchy · 2 years

Note

I have a request!! Ajax x reader who is really outgoing and people see her as super annoying so they’re mean to her, one day Ajax catches her crying bc she’s fed up with it, and he confesses/they kiss.

— ☆ MORE THAN THAT !

ajax petropolus x fem!reader

synopsis; just how you and your best friend's relationship developed into something more.

notes; think i projected here a lot haha.

taglist; lmk if u wanna be on it

You were just trying to be nice. You didn’t know how you ended up like this. One minute, you’re trying to have a conversation with Bianca and the next? You’re crying under the Edgar Allan Poe statue.

It’s always been like this, you thought. People would always mistake your kindness for something else — most would either take advantage of it or make fun of it. Today was your last straw.

You had had enough of the vampire boys and the siren girls constantly torturing your mind; it was getting exhausting. And for once, you finally broke down today.

You were never the one to run away from a fight but today was different. You actually ran away from them. From their constant remarks. Today, you finally let the tears fall and you finally freed your emotions — the emotions you’d been trying to bottle up for so long.

Ironic, wasn’t it? Being treated as an outcast in a school that was made for outcasts.

It hurt. The constant insults and slandering of you behind your back; you never truly knew how anyone ever felt about you. When was the last time you ever had someone to call your friend? You couldn’t even remember.

Well, one person did come into mind: Ajax Petropolus.

From your first day at Nevermore, he’d been the only person who’d shown you any type of kindness. Hell, he was the only person who didn’t treat you like the rest.

With Ajax, you felt at peace. You felt like you could talk to him about anything and everything without the fear of ever being ridiculed. You trusted him very much.

The sound of boots clicking across the dirty marble floor caused you to jump and quickly wipe off all the tears that streamed down your face. You tried to prevent the tears from falling but were unsuccessful. You didn’t want anyone to see you like this — crying.

The sounds started to get louder, they were nearing towards you. In a panic, you aggressively cleaned your face and attempted to make yourself look presentable.

‘Knew I’d find you here!’ The person spoke, their voice was raspy yet comforting — it was Ajax. The only person you wanted to see right now.

You weakly smiled at him and gave him a small wave as if to distract from the fact that you have been crying. Yet your attempts were futile once Ajax noticed. He cursed as he walked over to you and wrapped an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him.

‘Were you crying?’ He asked, turning to look at your face which has really noticeable tears stains; ‘wait — that’s a stupid question. I mean, how are you feeling?’

You chuckled at the first part of his statement — he really knew how to cheer you up or atleast, make you forget about your problems.

‘I’m better now,’ you slowly told him as he traced his fingers across your arm. ‘That’s great — who made you cry? Maybe I can stone them,’ he suggested.

‘Oh y’know — the same old people, nothing to worry about.’

‘They fought with you? Again?’

‘Yes but it’s no big deal, it happens all the time.’

Ajax turned to look at you, he had a stern expression on his face. ‘No big deal? C’mon, Y/N, they’ve been doing this since you arrived here and—‘ ‘and that’s why I’m used to it,’ you stated, ‘trust me, it’s nothing.’ He sighed, ‘well, if you say so.’

You both sat in silence for a while, just enjoying each other’s presence. Your tears had stopped falling a long time ago — the entire situation had been forgotten; you just wanted to be with him right now.

‘Hey, listen…’ Ajax began, grabbing your attention, ‘don’t listen to them, they’re wrong about everything they’ve ever said to you.’

You removed yourself from his embrace and sat up, looking at him bewildered. ‘What do you mean?’ you questioned.

‘Well, they make fun of your looks and mock your personality but they're all wrong,' he continued, 'you're beautiful and you're not annoying at all — far from it. You're the best thing to have happened to me.'

The ends of your lips slowly curved into a small smile, 'thanks,' you managed to respond. He turned his head to face you, 'I really mean it,' he stated as one of his hand gently touched your face and wiped off a tear that you didn't know had escaped your eyes.

You both stared into each other's eyes for a while until Ajax finally closed the gap between you two. You slowly shut your eyes tight as you kissed him back.

#wednesday #wednesday netflix #wednesday x reader #wednesday series #wednesday imagines #ajax x you #ajax imagines #ajax x reader #ajax petropolus #ajax x y/n #ajax petropolus imagines #ajax petropolus x reader

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estrellami-1 · 8 months

Text

If I Should Stay

This one is on time! Woohoo! 😂

Part 1 | . . . | Part 27 | Part 28 | Part 29

Eddie leaves eventually, Steve seeing him out. He jumps when he turns around and sees Alli standing there, smirk on her face, arms crossed. “Geez, Alli,” he laughs, “gonna have to put a bell on you.”

“Don’t deflect,” she says, but she’s smiling.

“You haven’t actually said anything yet,” he responds, and she gives him a look that screams, do I really need to?

After a few seconds of thought, he shrugs. “Fair enough. We’re waiting, for now.”

“For what?”

“The end of the end of the world.”

“Christ,” she laughs, moving to ruffle his hair, “you’re dramatic.” She inclines her head towards the kitchen. “Hot chocolate?”

He smiles and nods. “Haven’t had a cup as good as yours in thirteen years, Al, think I’m about due.”

She gives him a sad sort of smile and ruffles his hair again. “Then I’ll just have to make this the best cup ever, to make up for all those, huh?”

“When’s the last time you saw me?” He asks suddenly, watching as she stirs the milk on the stove, adding a bit of cinnamon.

She frowns over at him. “This morning, before I left. Why?”

He shrugs. “Just wondering. Who’d you hang out with?”

A blush colors her cheeks. “Cassidy.”

“Oh,” he says, and grins at her. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she agrees.

“It’s going well?”

“It’s going so well, bubba, I love her,” she breathes.

He grins and hands her the cocoa. “Yeah?”

“God, so much, we’re talking about finding a place and moving in together, and I can’t wait.”

“How long have you been together?”

“About a year and a half. It’s hard, y’know? You don’t know who’s safe and who isn’t.”

Steve hums. “I know.”

“But it’s going… really well, God, and now that you know, everyone important knows.”

Steve grins. “Mom and Dad?”

Alli laughs. “Never. A few other friends, a few of her friends, though we’re mostly all friends. She’s got a little brother too, a little younger than you, and he knows too.”

He narrows his eyes at her. He remembers Cassidy’s younger brother. “How old do you think I am?”

She gives him a shit-eating grin before shrugging. “I dunno, like, eight?”

“Asshole,” he says, but he’s laughing, and she’s laughing, and he’s happy.

The night doesn’t last forever, though; soon enough their mugs are drained and they’re both yawning, and they promise to catch up tomorrow over coffee before Steve has school and Alli has work.

That plan is derailed when Alli shakes Steve awake twenty minutes before he has to leave. “Shit,” he curses groggily, throwing open his closet doors and jumping out of his sleep pants at the same time. He settles on a polo and jeans before rushing over to his phone to call Robin, who answers just as groggily as he’d been.

“‘Lo?”

“Robs,” Steve says urgently, “school. Imma be there in fifteen.”

“Shit!” She screeches, and he hears her rush out of bed. “I owe you my life, I’ll get you a bagel, see you!”

With that, she ends the call and he chuckles as he rushes to the bathroom to try to tame his hair.

He squeezes Alli in passing before grabbing his car keys and rushing out the door, before just as quickly rushing in and grabbing his backpack. “Love you, bye!” She calls, but the door’s shut before he can answer.

Still, he calls a, “Love you!” Over his shoulder, in the off chance she hears it, before making his way to Robin’s house.

She throws open her door and runs to his car when he pulls up, waving to her mom, who appears in the doorway, looking mystified.

“Steve,” she says as soon as she’s seated, “I owe you my life.”

Steve chuckles and takes his bagel from her. “Yeah, you said that earlier. I honestly was calling just to see if I was gonna drive you or not.”

Robin snorts. “If you think I’d willingly put myself through the mortifying ordeal of riding the bus ever again, you clearly don’t know me as well as we thought.”

Steve chuckles. “I figured as much,” he agrees. “Then as it turns out you were still asleep, so the answer was pretty obvious. Forget to set your alarm?”

She groans and throws her head back. “Yes. I’m not used to being in school.”

Steve nods. “Same here, Alli woke me up twenty minutes before I had to leave.”

Robin smiles. “She seems cool.”

“Alli? She is. She’s the coolest, honestly, she was super cool when I told her about Eddie. Oh!” He says suddenly, flapping a hand her direction. “Eddie!”

Her brows fly into her hairline. “Eddie?”

“He stayed last night,” Steve starts. “Well, stayed later, anyways. We went out onto my roof and smoked a joint together and just… started talking, y’know? And, uh.” He can feel his cheeks turn scarlet. “We decided to wait until after the end of the world. But we do wanna try.” He bites his lip and says, quieter, wondering, “He thinks I’m worth waiting for. Working for. He’s gonna try, after you and I are back in our present.”

“Steve,” Robin whispers, staring at him. “That’s great, I’m so happy for you.”

He smiles shyly. “Thanks,” he whispers. “I’m hopeful, y’know?”

“Yeah,” she whispers back, and he knows she does actually understand.

Permanent Taglist: @justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove @nburkhardt @artiststarme @paintsplatteredandimperfect @i-less-than-three-you @alyelf @quarble @messrs-weasley @littlewildflowerkitten @vankaar @starman-jpg @bornonthesavage @steddie-there @goodolefashionedloverboi @andienotannie @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @platinum-sunset @just-ladyme @steddiestains @swimmingbirdrunningrock @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @martinskis-lydias @notaqueenakhaleesi @sleepyboosstuff @bestwifehaver @m-owo-n @thatonebadideapanda @finalmoondragon @velocitytimes2 @callmeanythjing @ajeff855 @ilikeititspretty @knitsforthetrail @sillysparrow @that-one-corvid @ace-is-bored @muricel @harpymoth @weirdandabsurd42

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#stranger things #if I should stay #steve harrington #eddie munson #eventual steddie #Allison Harrington #robin buckley #fix it fic #time travel #time travel fix it #starambles

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lovers-tucked-into-a-quiet-cafe · 3 months

Text

Chapter 5 [IKYLHT]

~2.4k Words | Series Masterlist | Prev | Next Chapter

“Officials are saying a power surge is to blame for an explosion over downtown Chicago last night due to severe winds leaving thousands of residents in the dark…”

“-I still don’t think that was the best they could’ve come up with.”

“Shh, Johnny, I’m trying to hear them.” You mumble with a light slap to the man’s thigh, nodding over to Price and Laswell as they clink glasses.

Simon chuckles from the other side of you as you peer around Soap’s form in an attempt to convince Gaz to relay the conversation word for word. He doesn’t, and part of you regrets not swapping seats with the man beforehand.

Not that you would’ve been able to, what with Simon and Johnny essentially herding you into the bar stool between them.

Sheepdogs, I swear.

“Y’know, I think you owe me, Bun.”

Johnny’s voice has a playful edge to it, something you so desperately need after the torture endured in that building.

Bloody hands trying to find grip on the cables- anything that’d soften your fall down the elevator shaft and allow you to follow him into that half constructed floor full of soldiers and Hassan.

Bloody hands that found themselves back on their original place, wrapping gauze around Price’s shoulder and pestering Gaz for updates every other minute.

He didn’t have any. You’d opted to try yourself.

“Soap, please.”

You can’t help the desperation in your tone.

He hasn’t answered comms in four minutes.

Something is wrong.

“What is your status? Click the transmitter. Something. Anything. Please, Johnny.”

You hear nothing but the soft Chicago wind in return, shaking hand reaching for comms once more.

“Ghost, do you have a visual?”

It takes him a moment to answer, and you can just barely hear his boots ascending the stairwell in steps of two.

“Negative. Adjusting position now.”

You hate it.

Hate that your view of Ghost is completely blocked from this floor, hate that Johnny isn’t responding to comms, hate that he’s in there alone.

Had this scene not already played out? Had Johnny not already been forced to fend for himself with shivs and rat traps in the streets of Las Almas?

Why couldn’t they get someone in there with him? Where are the Marines? Where is Gaz? Where is Johnny?

I should’ve been there.

I was there. It still didn’t matter.

I still couldn’t save him.

“Fuck this.” You mumble, shuffling back onto your feet, eyes already scanning for the emergency staircase.

I’ll scale the building myself.

Your gun is gone, lost somewhere to the explosion and subsequent shootout. You slide your hand over a spare knife resting on your hip. It’s not much, but it’ll have to do.

“Price, I’m movi-”

“Ghost…” Soap’s voice carries through your earpiece and renders your legs damn near immovable.

You don’t notice the way your knife slices open the top layer of skin on your palm, instinctually bolting up and towards the stairs as you hear Ghost reply.

Going down two, three, four at a time- shoulder slamming into the wall as you turn each corner and stumble down the staircase- you’re still unable to see any of what’s happening- eyes unblinking and ears straining to hear Johnny’s next words.

“Watch the window-“

“-Bun, c’mon. I remember hearin’ you make a bet with Simon.”

Blinking, you find yourself back in the bar.

Right. That’s right. It’s over.

It’s all over.

Nodding, more to yourself than to him, you scan the bar and blink the image of it back into the front of your brain.

You don’t miss the way Simon watches the entire thing.

You let a semi-genuine smile grace your lips and nudge him back.

“Which you were not a part of, Sargeant. Direct orders from the captain, in case you forgot. Plus, Si didn’t even agree to put any money on it. No point in betting if there isn’t a cash incentive.”

Glancing around him again, you’re just able to meet Gaz’s eyes as he finally divulges you by mouthing a single word before he’s turning back to Price.

Russians.

“I just think-”

“-Johnny.”

Your tone is what gets him to look up, to pop the bubble he’d created just for you, Simon, and himself. To raise his guard and compartmentalize like he always does.

You can’t blame the man for wanting normalcy for just a little longer. The chance to sit in a dimly lit pub with his partners, nursing a drink and laughing at how awful the men across the bar are at playing pool.

He doesn’t want another assignment. Not now. Not after all they’d been through. He needed a break, desperately, and he needed to get his mind off of work before it consumed him completely.

But you can’t. You just can’t slip into that headspace right now. You can’t let your guard down.

Maybe it was the mission, maybe it was the close-calls, but this inability to just think straight is one you’d only experienced once before.

You can’t remember when they start- the flashbacks, the shifting from present reality to memory. You only remember the looks of your comrades as they steer you back to the current moment.

Price’s voice cuts into the space, deep and low.

“He’s not new.”

He slides the picture over to Gaz, Soap bracing a hand over your leg as it bounces repeatedly.

You’re nervous.

You can’t tell why.

You force yourself to stop, to allow Gaz to study the photo without interruption. You hear him shift, pass the photo over to Soap who holds it up for the two of you.

He nods once, reaching past you to hand it to Ghost.

Shaking your head, you whisper to both men beside you.

“I don’t recognize him.”

Their eyes meet past your shoulder, an unspoken conversation.

“Guys?” You whisper again, eyes darting between the pair.

Still no answer, you look between Price and Kate, the latter looking just as confused as you did.

“Who is he?”

You feel Johnny’s grip on your thigh tighten, hear Simon’s deep inhale as Price turns to answer Kate.

“Makarov.”

“Well, this is me. You can just… knock, I guess. If you need anything, I mean.”

The door clicks behind Simon as you shift to stand awkwardly in the corner of your small accommodation.

His eyes shift over your room, the tiny storage shelf topped with boxes and folders of paperwork you’d need to drop off before the night’s end.

It’s hardly decorated past the beige curtains and yellow lighting that adorned each private room in the barracks.

You distantly wonder if Simon’s room is any nicer. Probably not, since it’s just a temporary until the flight home.

Better than a motel.

He nods once, lets out a little hum of acknowledgment before locking eyes with yours.

“You okay, Tapeti?”

“Me? Oh, yeah. Yeah, I’m good. Just need a nap, I think. Maybe some real sleep once the paperwork is done.”

He hums again.

“Okay. Not what I meant though, love.”

You give a sheepish semi-shrug, a half answer he lets slide with a small sigh.

“Alright then. Gonna go check on Johnny. You comin’?”

You want to, to go and kick your feet up on Johnny’s lap while he doom-scrolls through social media, but your eyes fall back on the box of papers.

“Oh, uh. No, that’s alright. I’ll swing by later. Really gotta desk-jockey it tonight. Text me if he needs anything?”

“Of course, darling.” He says softly, kissing the top of your head through the mask before sparing you one last glance and slipping out the door.

You sigh out, shuffling over to the storage shelf and grabbing the box before plopping onto the chair with a huff.

Casualty Report

Contact Report

Frequency Interference Report

Nuclear, Biological, and Chemical Report

Report

Digging your palms into your eyes, you groan out.

It's been hours, according to both the clock and the ache in your lower back.

“They offered me retirement, why the hell didn’t I take retirement?” Exhaling a deep breath, you whisper to yourself as you neatly pile the paperwork. “I love my job, I love my job, I love my job."

Sliding it off the desk and into the crook of your arm, you make your way through the foreign base, dropping off the paperwork to some higher-up's secretary with a content smile.

Not my problem anymore.

A little more pep in your step, you start making your way back to the barracks, giving Johnny’s door a light knock.

There’s no answer.

You knock again.

Still no answer.

With a small roll of the eyes, you dig for the spare key he slipped into your pocket with a wink, unlocking the door.

You crack it open, knock again and whisper as it quietly creaks.

“I swear Johnny, you’re such a liar- ‘oh I never fall asleep first’. I could practically hear you snoring through the- oh.”

His silhouette is dim but unmistakable. His snores are soft, as they usually are.

So are Simon’s.

You turn your head, scan the empty hall once more before really taking in the sight before you.

They’re cute. Snuggled up, cozy under the blanket Johnny will soon kick off, Simon’s head resting over his heart.

It’d be a lot sweeter of a moment if, well… if there was any space for you.

They really are cute together and you know it shouldn’t bother you, but, that was your spot.

It’d always been that way.

Johnny on his back, you on his left side.

Closing the door with a soft click, you lock the deadbolt as quiet as you can before making the trek back to your room.

It’s dark, curtains blocking any pale moonlight and the room is still just as fucking beige as before only now it’s a problem.

The bed is too cold. Too big, too empty, too overwhelming without his body splayed over half of it.

You don’t bother changing into anything comfier, kicking your boots towards the door and burrowing under the covers.

You look to the pillow on your right.

You shut your eyes.

It’ll be better in the morning.

Your descent down the stairwell is rushed, boots clipping the safety grips multiple times and hands flailing to grab the railing beside you.

You find a rifle on the way down, still slightly sticky with the blood of the masked soldier it belonged to.

You could never be too sure.

It clatters against your tac vest uncomfortably, hitting the back of your legs and threatening to launch you down the stairs completely.

You don’t bare it much mind though, hopping off the last few steps and throwing yourself against the heavy metal door with a grunt.

Side stepping and nearly knocking over the surrounding Chicago police, you weave your way through EMT’s and rescued hostages before your path is abruptly cut short by a dark mass with outstretched arms.

“Slow down, Tapeti, he’s making his way out.”

You allow yourself to remain in the man’s arms but don’t halt your hurried steps.

“Then we can meet him in the stairwell, Simon.” You huff out, only partially regretting the way your words tinge with aggression.

He unhooks the back of the strap, grabbing the rifle with one hand and letting it clatter against the sidewalk, not once breaking stride or faltering in pace.

You get one hand on the doorknob of the side entrance, readying yourself to slam bone against metal once more.

You don’t get the chance to though, head on a swivel when you hear a nearby glass door shatter in on itself.

And finally, you see Johnny, tired face holding back a pained smile as he holds the door handle in midair.

“Rabbit-“

“-Johnny.”

You waste no time rushing to him, the impact of your body colliding with his almost knocking you both to the ground.

You feel his shadow guarding the pair of you from onlookers, offering about ten seconds of privacy before Simon is damn near scruffing the back of your neck as he pulls the pair of you into his chest.

“Jesus Christ, Johnny. Don’t ever do that again.” You mumble into Simon’s shirt, pawing at Johnny’s tac vest and trying to find a patch of skin that isn’t covered by work.

It’s a difficult task, what with Ghost barely allowing you ample space to expand your ribs as you breathe, but you manage to slip off a glove and warm Johnny’s hands yourself.

You feel him shift to lay his head on Simon’s shoulder, wrapping an arm around the man’s waist as he speaks quietly.

“You okay, Bun?”

“Are you okay, Johnny? We couldn’t get ahold of you, not a single thing through comms, not even static.”

He doesn’t respond.

“Johnny?”

You move to pat his hand but it isn’t there.

“John?”

You look up but he’s gone entirely.

You spin around, cover your arms over your thin shirt no longer protected by two sets of arms.

“Ghost?”

You spin again but you’re entirely alone on the street.

The cops’ red and blue lights still flash, doors wide open.

The back ambulance doors reveal the inside, the space that held the empty gurney that now sits mere feet away from you.

“Simon?”

The wind howls but doesn’t shake the trees.

“Gaz?”

Your ears ring above the silence.

“Price?”

You feel the hairs on your arms stand.

“Santiago?”

You hear a knock.

“Bunny? You in there, hen?”

Shifting your arms, you feel the stickiness of the sheets beneath you.

He knocks again.

Scrambling out of bed, you kick your shoes out of the way of the door and open it hastily.

“Good mornin’, sunshine. We were knockin’ quite a while. Must’ve been pretty knocked out.”

Your shoulders loosen seeing his smile, no longer feeling the urge to curl in on yourself.

“Oh, uh, yeah I guess so. Had kind of a weird dream.”

You feel Simon’s eyes on you, send him a smile as Johnny brushes past you and into the room.

“Anything in particular?”

You turn back to Simon, motion for him to make his way out of the doorway and into the room as you answer his question.

“Not really, mostly just replaying yesterday. Just cataloging, you know the drill.”

Well, except for the part where everyone vanished and left me stranded in the middle of Chicago searching for Santiago.

Guess I was calling out for two ghosts.

“Eh, as long as it wasn’t the weird armadillo one again. God knows what that one’s about. Anyways, you showering before brek, Bun? You stink.” Johnny smooths the duvet over the damp sheets, laying down with a groan and stretching his side.

“Yeah, I’ll make it a quick one. You waiting here?”

You don’t miss the way it comes out, the tinge of vulnerability towards the end of your words.

Neither does Simon.

Johnny lets out a hum, arms above his head and moving to stretch out his other side.

Simon steps forward, untucks the string of your hoodie.

“Shower, Tapeti.”

He sits on the edge of the bed.

“We’ll be here.”

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