#but I swear if this flop I will flop next

[dykebehaviour]

okay… don’t laugh

using a vibrator on loser!lesbian!ellie for the first time

cw: smut, vibrator play (e!receiving), overstimulation, sub!ellie, dom!reader, begging, praise, teasing.

“okay… don’t laugh.”

you glance up from where you’re curled up on the couch, phone forgotten in your hand. ellie’s standing in the doorway to your bedroom with both hands behind her back. she’s shifting her weight between her socks, blue hoodie slouching off one shoulder, ears tinged with pink.

you tilt your head. “why would i laugh?”

“because…” she huffs, biting her lip. “just-swear to me you won’t, alright?”

“ellie,” you say, holding back a smirk. “what did you do?”

“i bought something.”

“…okay?”

she hesitates a moment longer, clearly warring with her inner loser. and then, she brings it out from behind her back.

a small, pastel purple vibrator. still in the box. her hands are gripping it like it might combust.

your brow lifts. “oh?”

she immediately looks down. “i-it was on sale,” she says quickly. “and like… i don’t know, i thought, y’know, maybe you could use it. on me. or something.”

your smile is slow and wolfish. “on you, huh?”

ellie groans, dragging a hand over her face. “fuck…i knew you were gonna do that.”

“baby,” you purr, setting your phone aside and sitting up straighter. “you bought your own toy for me to use on you? that’s so cute. what, you thinking about it all day or something?”

“maybe,” she mutters.

you pat the space beside you. “come here.”

she walks over, placing the box in your lap before flopping down next to you, already half-hiding in her hoodie like she wants to disappear. you pop the box open, pull out the vibe, and press the button. it gives a satisfying little buzz.

“jesus christ,” ellie mumbles, squirming.

you turn it off and glance at her. “have you ever used a toy like this before?”

she shakes her head quickly. “no. never. i mean-not on me. i’ve like… watched it. you know. watched people use them. for research. obviously.”

you grin. “sure. research.”

“shut up.”

you lean closer, brushing her hair back, your voice going a little lower. “you want me to use it on you, baby?”

ellie nods, a little too quickly. “yeah. yeah, i do. just…don’t make fun of me.”

“never,” you say. “but i might make you cry.”

her pupils blow wide.

you don’t even make it to the bed. ellie’s flat on her back on the couch, hoodie yanked off, grey tank riding up as she wriggles under you, flushed and needy. you’re straddling her thigh, kissing her breathless, one hand teasing the waistband of her sweats.

she keeps making these little whining noises in her throat - half nerves, half arousal- and she’s already a little damp through the fabric.

“jesus,” you murmur. “we haven’t even started.”

“shut up,” she mutters, cheeks flaming.

you tug her sweats down and kiss her hipbone, watch her jerk when your fingers ghost over her bare cunt. “so sensitive,” you tease, and she shivers.

you pull back just long enough to grab the vibrator, clicking it on to the first setting.

“wait,” ellie says, propping herself on her elbows, watching you like a hawk. “start slow, okay?”

you smile sweetly. “of course, baby.”

you press it to her clit, just gently. the effect is instant, her back arches, eyes rolling, hands gripping at the couch cushions.

“oh my god,” she gasps. “fuck, that’s-”

“that good?”

“yeah….holy shit, yeah. it’s-it’s weird. in a good way. it’s like-it’s so much.”

you keep it steady, moving it in slow circles, and watch her fall apart. her thighs are trembling already. her voice goes high and breathy as she gasps and groans and tries to form words. you lean down and kiss her stomach, her hip, her thighs.

“you’re so cute like this,” you murmur.

“shut-fuck-shut up, i’m-jesus christ, i’m gonna come already-”

“already?” you pout. “we just started.”

“it’s your fault-fuck, fuck, please-”

you press the vibrator down just a little harder and her hips stutter, breath catching, and then she’s coming, legs twitching, face scrunched, moaning so loud you’re glad the windows are shut.

you let up, turn it off, and press soft kisses to her inner thighs while she pants and whimpers.

“you okay?”

“fucked out,” she mumbles. “and you just started. holy shit.”

you grin. “want more?”

her eyes flutter open, and she nods slowly. “yeah. yeah. just-give me a second.”

a second turns into five minutes. you let her catch her breath, play with her hair, kiss her neck. she’s still flushed all the way down to her chest, nipples hard under her tank, and her thighs are twitching with every brush of your hand.

you turn the toy on again, second setting, this time, and she flinches.

“fuck,” she gasps. “wait-waitwaitwait-oh my god-”

you don’t even press it down fully. just trace it around her clit, teasing, featherlight.

“too much?” you ask sweetly.

“yes. no. yes. i don’t know, fuck-don’t stop-”

you don’t. you ease it up until it’s pressing right against her again, and her whole body jolts.

“you’re already so sensitive,” you murmur, kissing just below her bellybutton. “you gonna come again for me, baby?”

“i-i don’t know-i think so-fuck, you’re so mean-”

you grin. “you love it.”

she does.

the second orgasm hits her harder. her legs twitch, her hips try to pull away, but you don’t let her. you keep the vibrator there, light and steady, while she moans and writhes and begs you through gritted teeth.

“fuck, fuck, fuck, i can’t-i can’t-”

you lean over her, kissing her hard as she sobs into your mouth. her hands claw at your back.

“you can,” you whisper. “you are.”

and she does, her whole body shudders again, louder than before, a broken little cry ripping out of her throat.

you turn the toy off and set it aside.

she just lays there, dazed, sweat-damp and glowing, blinking up at the ceiling.

“you good?” you ask softly.

she nods. “gonna sue you. for emotional damage.”

“you’re welcome.”

“you’re a menace.”

you brush her hair off her forehead. “you’re such a good girl.”

that makes her blush worse than anything else. she hides her face in your neck and groans.

“you gonna tell the sex shop lady it worked?”

she groans louder. “don’t. i stammered through the whole checkout.”

you giggle. “bet she knew exactly what you were getting railed with.”

“stop.”

“you love it.”

ellie sighs dramatically. “unfortunately, i do.”

perm taglist: @yasmilks , @frosttbitten , @lovemiraamira , @ellies-real-wife , @wewerewildandfluorescent , @jullsii , @eyesttokill , @dmenby3100 , @bunchogravie , @oneinameliann , @intheshadowofthestars , @pariiissssssss , @vanpalmertruther , @madsxh1022 , @rbnvrnxoxo , @firefly-ace , @alyaserrax , @silly-pigeon69 , @glassofgreenteapls , @pearlsiie , @aj0elap0l0gist , @sincerelyherz , @imsiriuslycool , @0phantom0 , @ggutpunch , @leeidk87 , @mikellie , @celiacallsitcasual , @gurlbownerr , @l0veylace , @bluminescent-moon , @oatmatchalatte , @hitmehardmommy , @iadorefineshyt , @jksevendays , @liztreez , @clemrules , @yourl0caltrash , @rootytootymeow , @thebadwritersposts , @vanillacigarettes777 , @soltwent , @softqirls , @lesbian-useless , @lovewitchss , @abigail-andersons-wife , @valeisaslut , @ssijht , @meow4510 , @vixenkii , @modernvenuss ,@pryncess123 <3

[stargirlygirl]

your cat interrupts sexy time

caleb/rafayel/xavier (separate) x fem!reader

contains: nsfw, p-in-v (protection unspecified), swearing, bit of angst for caleb

⭑.ᐟ caleb

your cat loves caleb just as much as you do. he always brings little treats for your kitty, from expensive snacks to little toys that somehow become her favourite. you're starting to think your cat likes your husband more than she likes you, with how she competes with you to sit in his lap.

but none of that matters because right now, it's just you and your man, reconnecting after he's been in the deepspace tunnel for a couple of weeks.

your calves rest on his shoulders and your hips are propped up on a pillow. those large hands are on your thighs, wedding band digging into your plush flesh as he keeps you steady.

your back arches, his tip dragging along your walls and length filling you so fucking good. and then, his pace falters.

"shit! hey, baby," caleb pants. one of his veiny hands is gone from your thigh. a familiar purring underscores your moans and the squelching of your sex. your eyes shoot open and your head tips chin-to-chest.

"caleb!" he gazes at you with a cheeky grin on his lips.

"what, pipsqueak?" he asks, like he cannot begin to comprehend what's wrong with him patting your kitty while fucking you senseless. or perhaps he can and does but wants to rile you up.

you groan, "caleb!" he's scratching behind her ears and everything, making her purrs grow louder. taking a break from your cat, your husband grabs your hips and maneuvers you up. he ruts into you even deeper than before, eliciting broken cries from you.

but your little princess isn't happy about that. she flops on the side, baring her belly for rubs. caleb simply can't resist.

"hang on, pips—"

"hang on?! don't tell me to 'hang on' caleb! you can't be serious right now!" unfortunately, he is very serious right now. your partner sets your hips back down on the pillow and starts rubbing your cat's belly, cooing all sorts of nonsense as one typically does.

your glare burns holes into his side profile. the audacity! you wordlessly pray for him to wake up with a fat pimple on his nose tomorrow as divine punishment for his sin. his sin? leaving you—his magnificent, intelligent, breathtaking wife—lying there, his cock still inside of you, while he scratches your kitty's chest.

you call his name sternly, "caleb xia." all joy poofs from his handsome face as he glances at you.

"yes?" he gulps, taking in your clenched jaw and pursed lips. you don't say anything more. you don't need to. he already knows what to do.

with a sigh, he slowly draws out of you, his length slapping against his lower abdomen before he scoops up your cat.

leaving the room, he mumbles to her, "mommy's not in a good mood right now, m'kay? you can come back in later." you hear her faint meow and caleb's fading footsteps.

"i know, i know. i love you, too, peanut. but mommy and i were busy before you interrupted us." his voice permeates through the walls of your shared house. for the next five minutes, he's soothing your distressed cat like she's an abandoned child.

when he finally returns, you've already wiped yourself off and rolled onto your sides. in your arms is your favourite plushie, comforting you as your husband fails to. he slips in behind you, excuses apologies spilling from his lips.

"i'm sorry, honey. come on, please don't be too mad at me. let me make it up to you. she's just so cute, you know?"

"oh, i know," you grumble, a fire simmering beneath the surface. caleb sighs. even though his body is pressed against yours under the covers, there's a wall between you two now. his own doing.

"i'm sorry, pips. next time, i won't do that again, okay?" he murmurs, his tone dampened by guilt. good.

you scoff, "really?"

"really. i promise, pipsqueak." his hand runs up your side and squeezes your waist. he kisses your shoulder lightly, pouring his incessant need to be close to you into it.

"whatever," you huff. eventually, you turn over and pull him into a kiss, sealing his vow in saliva and yearning.

but with caleb, one kiss is never one kiss.

⭑.ᐟ rafayel

to say your husband is dramatic when it comes to your cat is an understatement. he's an absolute diva about it, complaining that he's been immobilised for the rest of the day should your cat brush up against him. an excuse rather than an actual injury, you're sure.

you swear you locked your bedroom door before you and raf started going at it. but somewhere in the heat of the moment, your sweet schnookie bear clawed at your door and thrust it open.

you only realise this when raf suddenly stops thrusting into you. his body—skin sheer with sweat—ghosts yours, and his soft eyes widen.

"what, baby?" you groan, trying to move your hips.

raf exclaims, "no!" his voice drops an octave as he leans in and says, "there's a traitor among us."

"guppy, what're you on about?—" oh. you hear it. the sound of your cat purring. she's nuzzling rafayel's shoulder in a rare display of affection.

he gives you a pleading look and whisper-yells breathily, "i thought you locked the door?!"

"i did! i swear i did, baby," you insist while tightening one arm around his neck, very much aware of how he twitches inside of you. your other hand pats your kitty's head. her purring grows louder.

"you know what this means, don't you? hey! look at me." with a slick palm, raf grabs your chin and guides your eyes back to him.

he pouts, "am i not more important than your cat? i mean look at it. she's a little demon. and she touched me! i can't even move my arm now." your innocent cat starts kneading the blankets, perfectly content and oblivious to the activities she just interrupted.

you squeeze his shoulders whilst sighing, "raf. you'll be fine, okay? why don't we keep going?"

"with her in the room?! are you crazy, cutie?"

"she won't even know!" you counter.

"yeah, that's not happening," your husband replies sassily. he pulls out of you, a stifled moan escaping you both before he shoos your cat from the bed.

after she darts out, he closes the door, locks it, and triple-checks that he locked it. you stretch your arms out wide, grinning lazily as he strides back to the bed.

rafayel climbs on top of you and rests his head on your chest like it's his pillow. you laugh sweetly, your fingers stroking his dishevelled purple locks.

a few minutes of heavy breathing pass, the two of you calming down from the intense lovemaking that was suddenly cut short.

"do you wanna continue or?" you ask gently. your partner lifts his head and props his chin on your sternum.

he sighs, "i wanna take a bath. gotta get that feline's germs off me. wanna join?" you hum in agreement and head to the bathroom with raf.

it seems your cat has found a way to entertain itself as you two finish what you started in the marble bathtub.

⭑.ᐟ xavier

feeling your cat brush up against his side, your glow worm's head snaps to her. the sudden onslaught of tension in his shoulders dissipates.

"oh, it's you. hello," he breathes out. your cat meows, begging for attention.

she's been encapsulated with your husband since they first met. after all, he never disturbs her sleep. when he comes back from missions, in dire need of a nap, your cat will usually take one with him. the sight always warms your heart.

but your heart is in the pit of your stomach as she nuzzles against his elbow. you stop riding xavier. you just can't when your cat is right there!

he faces you once more, a small furrow in his brow as he asks, "why did you stop?" your eyes dart to your purring cat and then back to xavier. it's pretty fucking obvious, but this man's aloofness knows no bounds. he stares at your blankly for at least the next minute, before a mental light switch is flicked on.

"oh... is it okay if i ask her to leave?"

"you can try," you grin while shifting a little. your husband clears his throat, attempting to cover up the small moan that slipped past his lips.

turning to your cat, he murmurs, "can you please go? we're busy right now." she pivots around and sticks her butt up, like all cats do before lowering down into a loaf. it's like she's giving you two some privacy, whether to continue or wrap things up is the question.

xavier gazes at you, silently pleading for you to do something. groaning, you lift your hips up. his cock slides out, and you bundle up your cat against your bare chest.

returning, you make sure to lock the door before you and your husband pick up right where you left off.

embarrassing/gone wrong sex moments m.list // masterlist

star girl's final words: i was gonna do them all but i got bored after i finished raf's (literally the first one i wrote)💀 either what i wrote for caleb OR the second your cat climbs onto the bed, he's like nope, picks her up, and puts her outside the door.

will proofread laterrrrrr (sorry)

[yuh13lo]

𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐟𝐭 ⋆·˚ ༘ * m.s.

Matt Sturniolo didn’t care much about birthdays.

He never made a big deal out of them—no countdowns, no extravagant plans. Most years, he brushed them off with a shrug and a quiet dinner, maybe something lowkey with his brothers. But this year, it was different.

Because this year, he woke up wrapped around you.

The sun peeked through the blinds, warming the rumpled sheets tangled around your bodies. Matt stirred with a groggy groan, burying his face in your shoulder, breath warm and slow against your skin. You smiled before even opening your eyes, your fingers already brushing through his messy curls.

“Morning, birthday boy,” you whispered softly.

He mumbled something unintelligible and clung to you tighter. “Five more minutes,” he muttered into your neck. “Just five.”

“You say that every morning.”

“Because every morning I wake up with you.”

That earned him a kiss—soft and sleepy—right on the cheek, which made his lips curve into a lazy smile.

Eventually, you pried him out of bed with a bribe: a cold bottle of his favorite apple juice waiting on the nightstand. He sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes, blinking at the juice like it was the greatest invention on Earth.

“You always know,” he said, unscrewing the cap and taking a sip. “Swear you read my mind or something.”

You stood at the foot of the bed in an oversized tee and some sweats, arms crossed with a secret smile playing on your lips. “Maybe I do.”

“What are you up to?”

“Nothing,” you said too quickly. “Just… get dressed.”

He narrowed his eyes at you suspiciously. “Why?”

“Because I have something planned.”

Matt groaned dramatically and flopped back down. “You know I don’t do birthday surprises.”

You sat beside him and kissed his temple, brushing his hair back. “I promise you’ll like it.”

He gave in, mostly because it was you asking—but he did it slowly, tugging on his favorite hoodie and a pair of shorts, groaning about it being “too early” even though it was nearly noon.

And then you started your tradition.

Beach first. Always.

The two of you walked along the shore barefoot, letting the waves kiss your ankles, Matt’s hand warm in yours. He’d tug you closer every few steps, or splash a little water on your legs just to make you squeal. His laugh was that low, breathy kind—the one he only did when he was really happy.

You laid down on the sand after walking for a while, Matt stretched out beside you, his head resting on your stomach while you played with his hair. The sun was high, the breeze soft, and the moment felt untouched by the rest of the world.

“I could stay here all day,” he murmured. “Right here. Just like this.”

You smiled, brushing your thumb across his cheek. “Me too. But we’ve got more to do.”

He pouted. “Ugh. You’re dragging me around for my own birthday?”

“Only for a little while.”

Next stop: your usual favorite shops. He picked out a couple new beanies (because he could never resist them), and you got matching sunglasses just because they were goofy and you knew he’d actually wear them to be funny.

While you paid for something small at checkout, Matt disappeared, only to return with a little plush keychain that looked exactly like a tiny apple juice bottle.

“For you,” he said, trying to act casual.

You blinked at it, then burst out laughing. “It’s your birthday.”

He shrugged. “You love it.”

He wasn’t wrong.

By the time the sun started to sink low, you were both back home—sandy, tired, and sun-drunk from the day. You let him lay on the couch for a bit, curling beside him under your shared blanket, watching nothing in particular on the TV.

Then you sat up and nudged his side.

“Okay. Time to get dressed.”

“Again?” he groaned.

“Trust me. This one’s big.”

“You said that earlier.”

“I meant it.”

Matt dragged himself off the couch and into his room, throwing on a hoodie and fresh jeans before returning with that curious look in his eyes—the one he gave you when he knew you were hiding something.

You led him outside and handed him the car keys.

“Drive?”

“Drive.”

He glanced at the GPS on your phone and gave you a weird look. “This is toward the city.”

“Yup.”

“You hate driving in the city.”

“Yup.”

He stared at you a little longer, then turned the key with a smirk. “You’re up to something.”

You didn’t say a word. Just held his hand across the console the whole way, grinning to yourself.

When you finally pulled up to the venue and he saw the crowd, the lights, and the sign…

MALCOLM TODD - TONIGHT - SOLD OUT

Matt blinked.

Then blinked again.

You handed him two tickets.

Front row.

He looked at them. Then at you. Then back at them. “You’re joking.”

“Nope.”

“You’re joking.”

You shook your head. “Happy birthday.”

The look on his face was pure shock—eyes wide, jaw dropped, heart probably thudding in his chest. He stared at you like you had just given him the moon.

“I didn’t even know he had tickets still,” he said breathlessly.

“He didn’t.”

His hand gripped yours like he was anchoring himself in the moment. “And you got these?”

“Yeah. A while ago. I’ve been dying trying not to tell you.”

He just stood there for a second, then wrapped his arms around you and lifted you slightly off the ground in a rare burst of giddy excitement.

“Holy shit,” he whispered into your ear. “You’re insane. You’re actually insane.”

“You love it.”

“I love you.”

The show was unreal. You didn’t even care about the volume or the standing or the people around you—you just watched Matt, lit up under the flashing stage lights, mouthing every lyric, his hand squeezing yours through every beat. He looked like a kid again, full of wonder and awe and happiness.

The concert was perfect.

Malcolm Todd sounded even better live—his voice effortlessly smooth, his energy electric—and Matt was in shock the entire time. He didn’t stop smiling, didn’t let go of your hand, didn’t even try to act cool about it. It was one of those nights that felt like time didn’t exist—just music and movement and joy.

But it wasn’t over yet.

After the final song, when the lights came up and the crowd started to thin, a staff member waved you two toward the side stage with a clipboard and a grin.

“Backstage passes,” you whispered, slipping the little laminated badge from your pocket.

Matt’s jaw dropped again. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

You were not kidding.

Moments later, you were backstage in a quiet lounge area when Malcolm Todd himself walked in, hoodie up and smile lazy but warm.

Matt froze.

You introduced yourselves quickly, and Malcolm was surprisingly easygoing—shaking Matt’s hand, thanking you both for being there. When Matt told him he listened to his music every night before bed, Malcolm laughed and said, “Then you probably know it better than I do.”

They took a couple of photos together—one serious, one silly where Matt threw up peace signs and Malcolm copied him. Before you left, Malcolm clapped a hand on Matt’s shoulder and said, “You’ve got good energy, bro. Appreciate you being here.”

When you finally left the venue and got into the car, Matt sat in stunned silence for a full minute.

“I just met Malcolm Todd.”

You smiled.

“I just met Malcolm Todd,” he repeated louder. “And he complimented my energy.”

You nodded, laughing softly as you leaned across the console and kissed his cheek. “Told you it was gonna be a good birthday.”

When you got back to the Sturniolo apartment, the lights in the living room were still on and both Chris and Nick were on the couch—Nick half-asleep with a blanket over his head and Chris scrolling through his phone.

The second Matt opened the door?

Chaos.

“YO.”

“HE’S BACK.”

Matt didn’t hesitate. He burst into the room, practically vibrating with excitement.

“Guys. I met Malcolm Todd. I met him. He dapped me up. Said I had good energy. Look—look at the picture—”

He shoved his phone in their faces while you leaned against the doorway, smiling as Chris and Nick squinted at it.

“Bro. This is insane,” Nick said, sitting up fully now. “You were front row?”

Chris looked at you, eyebrow raised. “You spoiled him.”

Matt grinned. “She did. And I don’t even care. I liked it.”

Nick fake-pouted. “So where’s our gifts?”

You raised your eyebrows. “Actually…”

They both turned, eyes wide, as you walked off to Matt’s room before coming back with two small gift bags.

Matt watched with a grin, proud and smug.

You handed Nick his first—he opened it with way too much flair, tissue paper flying everywhere until he paused and gasped. Inside was a set of vintage Edward Scissorhands collectibles, some Power Rangers figures, and at the very bottom…

“Shut UP.”

You smirked. “The tickets?”

“To the museum in that has the actual Edward Scissorhands outfits??”

You nodded. “Two tickets. Take whoever you want.”

“I’m taking you duh,” he said immediately. “I’m gonna cry.”

Chris’s gift came next. He opened his bag much more carefully—until he saw the two jackets folded neatly inside. One was the vintage Pepsi bomber he’d saved on Depop a long time ago and never bought. The other?

“That’s the Supreme collab jacket,” Chris said quietly, stunned. “The one that sold out before I could get it.”

You smiled. “I remembered you mentioning it, but I have my ways.”

Chris looked up at you, then at Matt. “I’m so happy but so jealous. I call dibs next year on our birthday. You’re too good to us.”

Matt threw his arm around you, smug. “Yeah. That’s my girlfriend. You guys just get the perks.”

Nick fake-gagged. “Ew. Okay. Take her and get out of here before you start making out on the couch.”

“I was going to share my apple juice with you,” Matt said, grabbing the bottle from the fridge. “Now? Absolutely not.”

You and Matt disappeared into his room a few minutes later—both of you still a little buzzed from the night.

He kicked off his shoes and pulled you into bed without even turning the lights on. “You win,” he whispered, voice low. “Best birthday I’ve ever had.”

You curled into his side, your arm resting across his chest, his fingers softly tracing up and down your spine.

“Good,” you said, barely above a whisper. “That’s what I wanted.”

There was a long pause—quiet except for the hum of the city outside and the slow beating of his heart under your hand.

Then Matt kissed the top of your head and said, “I’m gonna marry you one day.”

You blinked, lifting your head slightly. “What?”

He smiled against your hair, a little sleepy, a little too sincere for it to be a joke. “Nothing. Just… fall asleep with me.”

You did. Wrapped in the softest hoodie he owned, tangled in sheets that smelled like him, with your legs slung over his and his thumb brushing the inside of your wrist until the world faded away.

And Matt fell asleep with the biggest grin on his face.

Spoiled. Soft. So, so in love.

✦ join my taglist⭐️

Taglist @viviansturns @babyt0matoes @chrisbendmeovernow @ivysturnss @sabheartsturn @luzstarkey @sturnsburna @weirdosloveme @lyingonchris @clairo4life @matts-babytomatoes @leahfaith @courta13 @nessaisabelartemas333 @bugs-tags @edu4rd0ss @oopsiedaisydeer @xsturnkay @ellsxxoxo @matthewsroses @mattspillowprincess @drewinlace @sturnsfluff @sophs-1103 @nickstvrnbias @rory-keaners-fangs @sturnsobsessed21 @mattslipfast

[imnotjustreadingg]

it's strategy baby

another blurb merging two things i like. for the non McLaren fans pls be nice to me. this is a safe place for everybody. i have preferences but you won't ever catch me disrespect other preferences🥰🥰

It’s Sunday. Which, in your world, means two very important things. No Avengers missions and Formula One on. The first is non negotiable. Your only real day off from being a government-sponsored superhero. The second? Also non-negotiable, though Bucky seems to think otherwise The smell of coffee lingered in the air, rich and familiar, as the early afternoon sun spilled through the half-open blinds of your shared Brooklyn apartment. You were curled up on the couch, wearing an oversized McLaren hoodie, hair a little messy, socked feet tucked under you, remote in hand. Bucky padded out of the bedroom in sweats and a plain white tee, hair damp from the shower, his metal arm catching the light as he ran his fingers through it. “Is it... time?” he asked cautiously, already bracing himself. You smirked without looking at him. “It is Sunday.” He groaned dramatically and flopped onto the couch beside you, his head hitting the pillow with a thud. “Why do I let you pull me into this every week?” “Because you love me,” you said sweetly, hitting the ‘play’ button on the F1 livestream. “I’ve fought robots, aliens, and two versions of Steve Rogers,” he mumbled, “but nothing stresses me out more than watching grown adults drive in circles for two hours while you scream at the TV like someone just stole your lunch. You're really gonna watch twenty cars drive in circles for two hours again?" You don’t look away from the screen. "They're not circles. They're circuits. With turns. And strategy." “Let me guess,” he said flatly, “McLaren again?” “Always McLaren.” He chuckled. “The orange team, right? The one that keeps disappointing you every time?” You elbowed him gently. “Watch your mouth, Barnes. Lando is gonna get a podium today.” He leaned over, stealing a sip from your coffee mug. “I don’t even know what that means.” You kissed his cheek. “Just watch and learn, old man.”

Forty-five minutes in, Bucky was still pretending not to care. But you caught the way he tensed every time there was an overtake. He muttered something about how “...that Ferrari guy didn’t leave enough room” and actually sat up straighter when you gasped at a near-crash.

“You’re getting into it,” you whispered, amused. “I am not,” he said, arms crossed. “I’m just... making sure you’re safe. Emotionally.” “Oh, is that what this is?” you teased. “I swear to God if orange boy doesn't make that corner-” You grinned so hard your cheeks hurt. By the time the race ended, McLaren just hit the podium. You leaned against Bucky, both of you nestled into the couch, the coffee long gone, the post-race analysis playing in the background. He ran his fingers through your hair lazily. “Next week,” he muttered, “we’re watching my thing.” “Sure,” you said, smiling against his chest. “If you can name one show you actually finish.” He kissed your forehead. “Touché.”

taglist -> @onlyjunisworld @moonlitmorgan @thewitchhofoz @peanutbutt3rcup @overwintering-soldier @thelastbluecookie @chronicallybubbly @staley83 @mistalli @morphoportis @iyskgd @imjusthere1161 if you wanna be added, reply here

[raspberrylovc]

FIX-IT KISSES

warnings :: mentions of injury and hate crime (i think)

—

IT’S ALWAYS supposed to be ‘just a quick run’. that’s what travis says every time he pulls his mask over that perpetually annoyed face of his. “just a few blocks. i won’t be long.” and every time, without fail, he drags himself back to your apartment looking like he picked a fight with a dumpster and lost.

tonight’s no different. you hear him before you see him — a muffled, frustrated groan as the window breaks open, followed by a thud as he gracelessly tumbles inside. he’s half out of the suit already, peeling it down to his waist with jerky, annoyed movements. the only thing he hadn’t taken off yet was his mask. and even then, he already looked like hell.

and it wasn’t long before he’d put on his sleep clothes, which was annoying since you’d seen a few cuts that you’d have to clean later.

“you’re late.” you say, not looking away from the tv.

“didn’t know i was on a schedule.” he grumbles, kicking off his boots like they personally offended him. he limps. you knew he’d come back limping.

you sigh, patting the spot next to you. “get over here, loser.”

you’re sitting cross-legged on your bed, arms folded, now watching him peel off his mask and fail spectacularly at hiding his grimace. his hair’s a mess, his lip’s split, there’s a bruise forming on his cheekbone, and his knuckles are scoffed to hell. he looks at you out of the corner of his eye like he’s waiting for a lecture.

“you good?” you ask, voice soft.

“i’m fine.” he mutters, but the wince he makes when he moves says otherwise. “it’s not that bad. You should’ve seen the other guys.”

“i’m sure they’re real proud of you.” you roll your eyes and grab the first aid kit from the coffee table. “c’mere.”

he huffs but obeys, turning so you can dab at the cut on his lip. he flinches, hissing through his teeth. you’re trying to be gentle. he’s making it hard with all the squirming.

“i swear to god, martinez.” you mutter, narrowing your eyes as he leans away. “stop moving.”

“they threw hot dogs at me.” he continues, voice pitched somewhere between exasperation and pure dramatics. “who does that? who carries extra hot dogs just to throw them at spider-Man?”

“travis.” you try, but he’s still going.

“and you know what? you didn’t even answer my text. i almost died, and you left me on read. do you even love me? probably not. that’s fine. i’ll just bleed out dramatically on your carpet.”

he flops face-first onto your bed with a groan. you’re half-annoyed, half-grinning as you straddle his back and yank his hoodie up to reveal a shallow graze on his side. he hisses.

“see? dying. told you.”

“drama queen.” you mutter, cleaning the wound with gentle fingers despite his squirming. he’s insufferable when he’s like this — whiny, restless, convinced the universe is conspiring against him. and maybe it is. but you’re not about to let him spiral for another hour.

“i’m being serious.” he groans into your blanket. “i’m- ow, that’s cold! -i’m in critical condition.”

“travis. shut up.” you annoyedly let out. he shuts up, but only for about five seconds.

then the complaining starts up again, mumbled and breathless as you tend to the bruises on his back. “you know, you don’t have to do this every time. i’m totally capable of handling it myself.”

he’s being extra grumpy, squirming under your touch, muttering under his breath about how this is “just part of the job” and “i don’t even care about this scratch, why are you making such a big deal-“

you’ve had enough.

without a word, you lean down, pressing your lips to the nape of his neck — soft, lingering, purposeful.

he stops talking.

you feel his breath hitch beneath you, his whole body freezing, like his brain’s buffering. another kiss. this time to his shoulder. a little slower. his fingers clench in your sheets.

he blinks, like he forgot how words work. then he clears his throat, trying to play it cool.

“…that was rude.” he mutters, voice raspier now, but he’s smiling. just a little. he flips onto his back to get a better look at you.

“so is complaining.” you tease, kissing along his jaw this time, noting how his eyes flutter shut.

he mumbles something that might’ve been “worth it.” but it’s too soft to catch. you press a final kiss to the corner of his lips, and that’s what breaks him.

“i’m still mad.” he says, except it comes out embarrassingly soft. his hands find your waist, clumsy, unsure if he’s allowed to hold you when he’s pretending to be mad. “you can’t fix me with- with this. i’m immune.”

“you’re really not.” you murmur, pulling back just to see how flushed his face is now. his scowl is still there, but it’s weak, like it’s hanging on by a thread.

you don’t give him time to rebuild it. you kiss him. fully this time. and he melts.

it’s always like this. the city kicks his ass, and he drags himself back here, grumbling, venting, acting like the world’s against him — but the second you’re close, the second you give him attention, travis turns into the softest, neediest version of himself. like he’s been waiting all night for you to shut him up.

when you break the kiss, he’s breathless, blinking up at you like he’s forgotten what his original complaint even was.

“still mad?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

he grumbles something that sounds like “maybe”, but the way his hands pull you down for another kiss tells you everything you need to know.

—

A/N

hey…. funny seeing you here…

i have a request to fulfill before disappearing again

creds for the idea — @boopieluvsyou @travsnat (my goats)

[areyoufuckingcrazy]

fives x reader where they’re trying to be serious about sex but they just. can’t stop laughing. and yapping and getting off topic talking about random things. and it’s just. adorable.

“We’re Trying to Be Serious Here”

Fives x Reader

⸻

You were trying to have sex.

Really, truly.

With Fives.

You’d made it all the way to your bunk, somehow dodging the usual chaos of the barracks. Lights dimmed. Shirts shed. Things were finally getting serious.

Right up until Fives tripped over your boots.

“Who leaves their boots in the middle of the floor like this?!” he yelped, landing flat on his back.

You burst into laughter.

“That would be you, genius,” you snorted, pointing at the scuffed pair. “Yours are the size of escape pods.”

“Rude,” he groaned from the floor, one arm flung dramatically across his chest like he’d been mortally wounded. “I’m trying to set the mood, and you’re out here disrespecting my footwear.”

“You’re the one faceplanting during foreplay!”

Fives sat up, rubbing his elbow with a sheepish grin. “You know, I’ve had smoother deployments.”

You snorted again and flopped back on the bed, grinning up at the ceiling. He climbed up beside you, crawling half on top of you like an affectionate tooka cat, pressing kisses to your neck with exaggerated care.

“I’ll have you know,” he murmured between kisses, “that if I had been able to walk in here without risking an ankle injury, we’d already be naked.”

“Wow. That’s some military efficiency,” you teased, tilting your head to let him nuzzle closer.

“I aim to serve.”

But just as things started to get warm again—his hands drifting over your waist, your fingers tangled in his curls—you let out a sudden giggle.

Fives froze.

“What?” he asked, mock-offended.

“I just remembered that time you tried to flirt with me while holding a caf cup that said ‘Property of Kix.’”

“That was a tactic,” he said defensively. “Claiming the medics’ supplies makes me seem rugged. Resourceful.”

“You had lipstick on your chin.”

Fives pulled back just enough to give you the flattest deadpan look he could manage. “Remind me why I like you again?”

“Because I’m smart. And hot. And I laugh at your stupid jokes.”

“That’s fair.”

He leaned in again, this time for a kiss that was slower, more genuine. For a moment, you both managed to be quiet. You let your hands wander, felt the beat of his heart under your fingertips, the way he sighed into your mouth like he meant it.

And then you opened your eyes mid-kiss and whispered, “Did you remember to lock the door?”

Fives stopped mid-motion.

“Son of a—”

He flung himself off the bed again, grabbing his shirt to wrap around his waist dramatically. “I swear, if Jesse walks in here again, I’m going to lose it.”

You were laughing so hard now your stomach hurt.

“Last time he didn’t even blink!” you howled. “He said hello, Fives!”

“And then asked if I was ‘almost done’ like I was fixing a speeder!”

You wheezed as he stormed over to the panel, jabbing the lock button like it had insulted his honor.

“Okay,” he huffed, turning back to you with his hands on his hips. “We’re secure. We’re focused. No more distractions.”

“Sure,” you said, nodding solemnly. “Laser-focused.”

He flopped back onto the bed beside you. “Now. Where were we?”

“You were about to show me your extremely efficient seduction skills.”

Fives waggled his eyebrows. “Right. Prepare to be amazed.”

And then his stomach growled. Loudly.

You stared at him.

Fives stared at you.

You both broke.

You were cackling again, clinging to each other like the bed might flip over. Fives buried his face in your shoulder, groaning.

“I can’t take myself seriously right now,” he gasped.

“You? I’ve been picturing that caf cup this whole time!”

“I was trying to be sexy!”

“Babe,” you said between wheezes, “you can’t be sexy and hungry at the same time. That’s just biology.”

He collapsed next to you with a dramatic sigh. “This is tragic. I’ve been thwarted. My seduction arc has failed.”

You curled into his side, cheek resting on his chest. “You know,” you said thoughtfully, “this is kind of perfect.”

“You being hungry while we almost-but-not-quite bang?”

“Yeah,” you said, giggling again. “Because it’s us. We can’t go five minutes without getting off topic.”

“Or off track.”

“Or off the bed,” you added helpfully, and he wheezed at that.

There was a pause. Then he said, “You still wanna? Or should I make a sandwich and we try again in twenty?”

You blinked up at him. “Did you just offer me a sandwich instead of sex?”

“Not instead of,” he said smoothly. “Before. Gotta refuel. Standard battle prep.”

You laughed so hard you fell off the bed. Again.

Fives peeked over the edge and just grinned down at you like you were the best thing that had ever happened to him. He reached out a hand to help you up.

“You coming with me or what?”

“To make sandwiches?”

“To not starve to death mid-thrust, yes.”

You snorted, grabbing his hand and pulling yourself up. “Only you could make this romantic.”

He grinned and kissed your forehead. “You love it.”

“…Yeah,” you admitted as you followed him out into the hallway in nothing but your sleep shirt and socks. “I really do.”

⸻

[lunameimei]

"Are we gonna have a problem? You got a bone to pick?"

[cupidsncheerios]

let him be a little bit evil, emily. as a treat.

[kakusu-shipping]

Get in my house

[lunelicmoone]

do you think that 3 years ago while they were at the palace for however long it was, asra would see lucio being all plague infested or whatever and get a little sick to his stomach because in the back of his mind he knows that mc went through the same thing and didn't have anyone to take care of them

[barkov]

i need one of my teams to NOT flop tonight thank you

[kuncitizen]

"Satoru."

"Yeah, baby?" Gojo replies instantly, gaze flicking up with hopeful anticipation.

He’s still got that innocent glimmer in his eyes, as if he isn't the one currently cupping your breasts with both hands like they’re humanity’s last hope.

"Get your hands off my boobs."

He groans, flopping back dramatically against the pillows like a kicked puppy.

“Why are you being so distant lately?" he whines, bottom lip jutting out in the most insufferable pout as he gives your chest a pitiful little squeeze.

"You didn’t even laugh when I did the sexy voice in the shower, and frankly, I feel unloved."

"Go to sleep." you mutter, flipping a page of your book with surgical calm, still not gracing him with even an ounce of attention.

There’s a beat of silence. You know that kind of quiet—he’s either about to start weeping or set something on fire.

"Are you seeing someone else?"

Gojo props himself up on one elbow, the other hand still firmly on your chest. Still palming you like you’re a comfort object he refuses to part with.

You blink. "...What?"

"It is him!" he gasps, eyes widening in horror. "The guy with the beige sweater and receding hairline. I know a schemer when I see one."

You sigh through your nose. "That’s Megumi’s homeroom teacher. He’s a sweet man.”

"Oh so you think he's sweet now?" He snaps, sitting up straighter, finger jabbing the air in accusation. "That fossil has no business standing within five miles of you. I don't care how many degrees he has."

You finally lower your book just enough to stare at him. "It was a parent-teacher meeting, Satoru."

"Yeah, well, he was talking to you all slow and respectful and.... educational. What’s the bastard trying to prove?"

You go back to your book with a slow blink and no further comment.

"You are so—"

Before you can finish, he grabs the book clean out of your hands and flings it somewhere across the room.

"Hey—!"

You reach out for it instinctively, but he moves faster, already shifting his weight and rolling over you in one smooth motion. He straddles your hips, knees pressed to the outside of your thighs, his chest hovering just above yours.

One hand plants beside your head, the other trails down, gliding over your ribs, your waist— before settling low on your thigh, just beneath the hem of your shorts. His fingers splay there, staking his claim.

He’s looking down at you now, hair falling in his face, grin slow and easy like he has all night to make his point.

"You’re impossible," you mumble, glaring up at Gojo.

"Maybe this is why I piss you off so often," he says, lips brushing your jaw. "Just wanna see my pretty girl all worked up."

You try your best not to succumb to the temptation. You really do.

But his mouth finds the curve of your jaw, kisses warm and trailing as they move lazily toward your neck, each one a little more self-satisfied than the last. He hums against your skin, practically vibrating with contentment, thinking he's finally worn you down.

His fingers flex against your thigh, grip tightening just slightly as his lips trail lower—

"Gojo-sensei!"

You both freeze. Gojo's body goes still, lips hovering at your neck, hand frozen just beneath the hem of your shorts.

"I spilled juice on my shirt." Megumi's small voice echoes from the next room, painfully unimpressed and extremely inconvenient.

Gojo lets out the longest, loudest, most dramatic groan known to man, forehead falling onto your shoulder like he’s in mourning.

"...I swear that child has a sixth sense for cockblocking."

You laugh—wheeze, really—because he says it so seriously, like this is a national tragedy.

"I’ll be back," he grumbles, reluctantly hauling himself off you, the pettiness in his voice barely disguised. "But I’m taking the book hostage until further notice."

[inkedtension]

Toji’s shirtless again.

Well. Toji’s always shirtless.

You think he only owns like… three shirts. Two of which are permanently crumpled on a chair somewhere and one he only wears if he absolutely has to go to a convenience store. Even then, he complains. Loudly.

Right now, he’s standing in the middle of the crappy excuse for a kitchen in grey sweats, stretching like he’s not fully aware of how that motion exposes all those tight cords of muscle and his stupid V-line you want to sink your teeth into.

You’re lying upside down on the couch when you ask it.

"Tojiiii~" you whine, kicking your legs up against the wall like a child. You look ridiculous and you know it. “Can you go grab my charger? It's alllll the way in the bedroom, and I’m dying.”

“Use your legs, sugartits, they work”

“They don’t,” you say dramatically, flipping over and crawling off the couch like a ragdoll. “I’m in a fragile emotional state. You wouldn’t understand.”

He lets out a long, exasperated sigh through his nose. “You’re always in a fragile emotional state.”

“But this time it's terminal,” you mutter, flopping onto your stomach and pounding the floor weakly. “Please, Toji. I’ll give you a reward.”

That gets him.

You hear the faint rustle of movement and peek up through your arms. He’s squinting at you, suspicion radiating off him like heat. “What kind of reward?”

You smile like a little shit.

“Come back with it and find out.”

“There. Where’s my goddamn reward?”

You sit up with a pleased grin, coil the wire around your fingers and crook one at him.

“Come here.”

“I’m not a dog.”

“I said, come here, Toji.” You pat the couch between your thighs. “Sit, boy.”

He scowls. “I should’ve left your charger in the toilet.”

But he comes. Grumbling, looming, all six feet of muscle and irritation settling between your legs like it's some kind of punishment.

You reach out with both hands and start gently patting his head. Ruffling his thick black hair, scratching lightly at the nape like he’s something fluffy and manageable. He blinks once. Then twice.

He looks like he wants to toss you off the balcony.

“…The hell is this.”

“Your reward,” you say sweetly. “Look at my good boy doing chores.”

He tenses, as if the words hit a nerve. “Not your damn dog, doll”

“No,” you whisper against his temple, “you’re my big, bad, muscle-y man who still comes crawling for head pats.” You pause. “And other head—”

“Stop” he says flatly, but you can feel the way he’s melting against you.

You grin.

From then on, you swear he starts doing things on purpose.

Takes the trash out. Fixes the leaking tap with a wrench that you’re 96% sure isn’t his.

You watch him with squinty eyes. “You did something.”

He shrugs like it’s nothing. “Just cleaned up a little.”

“Uh-huh.”

He sits next to you. Clears his throat.

You blink.

He tilts his head. “Well? No rewards?”

You smirk and crawl into his lap like a puppy in heat. Run your fingers into his thick black hair, kiss the spot right above his ear.

He scoffs, but you can feel him relax, hands wrapping around your waist. “You’re gonna give me a complex.”

You straddle him, nose to nose. “Only good boys get spoiled like this.”

“…Shut up.”

You boop his nose. “Make me.”

He does, later. With his mouth.

And when he finally lets you go—arms still wrapped around your waist like he forgot how to be separate from you—you bury your face in his neck and murmur, “I love my broke, shirtless king.”

He growls. “Say that again and I’ll leave your ass in the street.”

Later that evening, he kills the cockroach you screamed about. Doesn’t even complain this time.

Doesn’t even speak. Just stands there in front of you, arms crossed.

You squint at him. “What now?”

“My reward” he says simply.

You pat the couch. “Leg’s open, daddy.”

“I swear to God—”

But he’s already walking over. Settles down between your legs like it’s second nature now. You start petting him again, your fingers tangled in his messy black hair.

“Such a good boy,�� you whisper. “Good boys get spoiled. You want a kiss, baby?”

His voice is gravel when he replies, “Tch. You call me good boy again and I’ll bend you over this couch.”

You tug his hair gently. “Say please, I've been a gooood boyy, baby.”

He groans, but then—so low it’s almost a threat—he mutters, “Please, I've been a good boy.”

You smile like a devil. Pull his face up and kiss him. Long. Slow. Filthy.

When you pull back, he’s still scowling. But his hands are gripping your waist like you’re something he’ll never give up.

“…You’re such a damn brat” he mutters.

“And you’re such a pettable little babyboy,” you purr. “Look at you, doing chores and everything.”

“You want me to stop?” he asks, cracking his neck.

You kiss his jaw. “Nope.”

You pause. Then whisper like you’re telling a secret, “I’m gonna pet you forever. Even if you hate it.”

“…Fuckin’ menace” he says, hugging you tighter.

[lovelivision]

‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎.❝ SAY MY NAME ❞

･ ⟢ ⋮ summary. . . running into your childhood friend you'd lost touch with just when you were in need of a roommate was super lucky for you, too bad living with and getting close to him has you feeling things you probably shouldn't !! just how exactly is he feeling about this arrangement ??

.pairing ﹒ꕀ . gojo satoru / reader ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎ ‎‎wc. ⁀ ⊹ 12.6k

warnings.ᐟ.ᐟ 18+ only, smut, university au, swearing, dirty talk, cunnilingus, thigh fucking, big dick gojo, p in v penetration, unprotected sex, praise kink, creampie, fingering, cumplay (not really), overstimulation, multiple orgasms, size kink (if you squint), gojo is down bad, reader is scared of horror films, f!reader, she/her pronouns used, i think that's all !!

Having a roommate is great! You pay less on rent, split utility bills, there’s usually someone home if you get locked out or have to go away for a couple days. There’s many benefits, which is why you wanted one in the first place but when it comes to your reality… it’s a different story. Especially when your roommate is some guy from one of your classes that suddenly needed a roommate when you started looking.

Okay, some guy is a little harsh, you’ve known each other since you were kids, you just grew apart as you got older and have only really gotten back in touch during university. It was surprising to see him on campus but not unpleasant. He was a familiar face on a day where you had no friends in a new environment. It’s embarrassing to think back on it now, with how you practically clung to him the whole day.

Your childhood with him was nice, there’s a lot of memories there. Thinking hard, there wasn’t even an inciting incident to your growing apart. It was natural and happened slowly. Still neighbours but he’d gone to a different high school, and you’d stayed where you were. You don’t really know or remember what happened that you stopped hanging out all together and you were too shy and nervous to just walk those few steps next door.

He was the boy that walked home with you after school, who held his hand out to you when you fell over, who told kids off for picking on you. He was a good friend and always made you smile, losing a friend like him hurt. It hurts more that there isn’t any obvious blame to be put anywhere, it’s not like you guys had a fight or anything.

The fact that your paths had diverged and met again feels bizarre and puts you on edge. Easily falling into step with him before realising you’ve not seen each other in years, a familiarity you feel like you shouldn’t have but is there regardless. Often talking like you’re close before correcting yourself because despite being the same people, you’re completely different.

“Your thinking is disturbing me,” his voice comes from behind you.

The sudden sound gives you a start and you jump, “Geez Gojo,” you turn to look at him, his head tilted and smile lopsided as he leans on the back of the couch you’re seated on, “How long have you been there for?”

He shrugs before throwing his leg over the couch and stepping onto it from behind, flopping onto his ass and jostling you with his movements, “I dunno, a few minutes or more?”

You only hum noncommittally at him, your train of thought completely gone. It doesn’t matter, you have a feeling you’d gotten distracted from the point you were trying to make to yourself anyways.

“You’re gone again,” he pokes at your cheek and you slap his hand away.

“Stop it, I was thinking about something and now all my thoughts are muddled and useless.”

Gojo sinks further into the couch, spreading his limbs out far too wide, “Must not have been all that important then.”

A sound of disagreement from you, “I was thinking about my childhood…”

“Ah…” he sighs, “Must’ve been thinking about me then,” his lashes flutter at you.

And just like that, you remembered what you were initially thinking of. Having a roommate is good in theory and not practice because now you’re living with the single most annoying person on the planet. Only he manages to press all your buttons and you can’t tell if he’s just like that or if it’s because you knew each other as kids.

You choose not to answer him, he bugs you and a part of why he bugs you so much is because he doesn’t even seem a little bit bothered by your past friendship. He’s comfortable around you and is quick to bring up the past, you’d wondered at first if he felt the same sting over your lost past together but his attitude towards you had that line of thinking dropping quick.

Maybe moving in with him was stupid but you needed a roommate and you knew him, it was the better choice but you’re questioning that logic a little bit now. “Do you feel uncomfortable that I’m living with you?”

His head shoots to look at you and his brows pinch, “No.” When you don’t say anything more, he asks, “Are you uncomfortable living here… with me?”

Your eyes meet and you can tell he’s concerned which wasn’t your intention, “No, don’t worry about it… I was just thinking out loud.”

“Wanna know what your problem is?”

Whatever he’s about to tell you is going to be stupid, “No. Not really.”

He gives his answer despite yours, “You think too much, always in thought worrying about things that don’t matter nearly as much as you think they do.”

“Maybe you just don’t think enough,” your retort is quick, not enjoying captain state the obvious over here.

He exhales while shaking his head, like he’s showing you pity, “I suppose you can’t help it; you’ve always been an overthinker.”

And it’s true… you’ve always had a tendency to overthink and for some reason the fact he still remembers that about you makes you feel funny. It’s like you’d half expected him to forget everything about you but time and time again he reminds you that he remembers a lot. More than you’d think he’d have noticed about you as kids.

“Hey, you okay?” His tone isn’t the same from before, no longer teasing, “You seem down lately.”

You brush him off with a smile, “I’m fine, we just have a weird friendship.”

He pouts, “I think our friendship is normal.”

“Of course you’d think that,” you roll your eyes lightly, “What I mean is, it feels weird to go from being so close to strangers back to friends again.”

“Maybe but I personally feel pretty good about it,” he smiles big, “Seeing you on campus was crazy luck and then you were so nervous you wouldn’t leave my side the whole day, it was cute. Reminded me of when we were kids.”

A groan leaves you, starting to feel warmed by your embarrassment, “Shut up.”

“I’m glad we’re getting close again,” his hand rests on top of your head and pats a few times, “Stop thinking so much about the past.”

You don’t have any problems with the past, it already happened, it’s what’s coming that has you feeling so unsettled. Gojo’s hand on the top of your head slides down to the side of your face, his hand caressing you. He grabs you and pulls you closer as he leans in, always so quick to invade your personal space like it’s also his.

He simply utters, “Stop it.”

“Stop what?” You nearly sputter at him, the proximity and intensity of his eyes making you nervous.  

Those eyes narrow at you in response, “Worrying.”

You change the topic, “You need to stop getting in my personal space.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he exaggerates, “Am I in your personal space?” He moves in closer, his cheek pressing to yours, the hand on your other cheek holding you still.

You’re laughing before you have a chance to stop, struggling against him and breathlessly telling him to stop, “You’re so annoying! You’re no better now than when we were kids!”

A gasp pulls from you when you both slip in your struggle, your back meeting the couch seats. You’re expecting the heavy weight of Gojo falling on top of you and wince in preparation but when it doesn’t come you squint your eyes open. He’d caught himself with a single arm, hovering over the top of you with a large grin on his face.

The position is suggestive and has you flustered; your eyes wide as you search your brain for the right thing to say. Gojo isn’t bothered in the slightest, smile unfaltering, “It’s adorable how easily flustered you get.” He bops the tip of your nose with his free index finger.

Quickly, your expression drops, brows furrowing, “Get off me.”

Gojo can’t seem to help himself when it comes to you though, faking deep thought at your command. Eyes scanning up and down your body, “Hmm, and if I don’t?”

“I’m gonna hurt you,” threatening through clenched teeth.

It’s almost like he lights up, always enjoying going back and forth with you like this, “Promise?”

“Gojo,” you warn.

He whines at you, “Why do you still call me Gojo, use my name… like you used to.”

You’re a little taken aback by his request, you’d been trying to be polite. Your brain shuffles through the things you could say right now, something smart or funny or just giving into his request. His eyes on yours are imploring, waiting impatiently for you to call to him.

“I’m not gonna do that,” your head turns from him to avoid his gaze, having decided on defiance.  

Dropping to his forearm, his head follows yours so he can stay in your line of sight. He’s pressed too close to you now; you’re getting embarrassed by his shamelessness. Your palms move to his shoulders to push him back but he’s holding steady.

“Come on,” he draws out his words, “Please, just once. Please. Please. Please. Please.”

He’s so annoying, he repeats his pleas over and over while you shake your head at him.

He changes his methods, seeing he’s not getting far with begging, “I’m not getting off you until you do.” Hand reaching for your face again, manoeuvring you so he can pull you to look at him better.

The way he’s looking at you makes your heart flutter, a pleasant feeling that upsets you. If he keeps looking at you like this, you might go insane. Against your will, your eyes flit to his lips before quickly snapping back to his eyes that are now crinkled with his too big grin.

You pout at him, “I feel like giving into you here doesn’t bode well for me.”

So obvious in how he looks to your lips, slowly tracing your features before locking with your gaze again, “That could be true but not giving in here might not bode well for you either.”

Maybe letting him win will be easier in the long run, you don’t want him becoming more difficult than he already is, “Just once…”

His eyes light up at your acquiescence, suddenly waiting so patiently for you to continue. Just as you’re about to open your mouth to hesitantly utter out his name, your apartment door swings open. Ieiri and Geto kick off their shoes and stumble into your living room. Gojo only groans and drops his head to your shoulder. Disappointed by how close he was to hearing you call to him.

You stutter and fumble over yourself at how he’s dropped onto you, your hands pushing at him, “Gojo get off me!”

“If you’re gonna invite people over maybe don’t try fucking right before,” Ieiri sighs at Gojo like his disappointment is his own fault.

Quick to dispute the accusation, “W–we weren’t doing that! He’s just all in my personal space like usual.”

“Satoru, get off the poor girl,” Geto rounds the couch and pulls Gojo up by the back of his shirt, “Don’t you put her through enough already?”

“You guys have the worst timing,” he grumbles back at him.

Geto lets him go and shrugs, “You’re the one who invited us over, maybe don’t give us a key next time or plan your flirting better.”

“I think you guys have great timing,” you smile at them both, grateful for the save. Especially since the situation was quickly slipping from you. You can’t believe you almost gave into Gojo; he’d absolutely only get worse if you had.

As you sit up properly, Ieiri comes up behind you and strokes the top of your head soothingly, “Would you like us to kill him?”

You laugh at her suggestion, “Thanks but I still need him for his half of the rent.”

Geto and Ieiri are kind and you like them, you’re still a little uncomfortable around them since they’re not your friends. They’re Gojo’s friends that he made in high school and he tends to have them around plenty enough that you’re friendly with them but not much more than that.

As you get off the couch to leave them, Gojo’s hand grabs your wrist, “Where are you going?”

“What? I…” You’re confused, “I was just gonna go to my room and leave you guys to hang out?” He pulls you back to the couch and you collapse into it. Pulling your wrist free, you slap at him, “What the hell?”

He’s unphased by your slaps of admonishment, “You’re gonna watch a movie with us.”

“Do I get a choice?”

He beams at you, “Nope.”

The other two just sigh at Gojo and his antics, moving to get comfortable on the couch themselves. You try to get up again but Gojo is quick to pull you down by the back of your shirt. “I just wanna get a blanket,” you pout at him.

The expression he makes is sheepish and cute, “I’ll get it… sorry.”

Without him in the room you feel nervous and uncomfortable, the silence between the three of you unbearable, “Uhm… sorry about earlier.”

“Don’t worry about it, living with him must test your patience daily,” Geto smiles in a way that eases your nerves slightly.

Ieiri looks around him to look at you, “What the hell was he even doing to you?”

“Ah…” you falter slightly, not sure how to tell them he was tormenting you into saying his name in a position that had suggestive undertones. Maybe overtones is more appropriate here.

“I didn’t do anything to her,” Gojo defends as he comes back into the room, “I just wanted her to say my name instead of always calling me ‘Gojo.’” He flicks the blanket out and places it down over top of you gently, “You guys ruined it though.” Grumbles coming from him as he sits down beside you again.

“You harass her too much, you don’t deserve to be rewarded for that,” Geto rolls his eyes before looking at you, “Don’t reward him for his bad behaviour.”

“I try not to,” you pointedly ignore Gojo’s sounds of offence from beside you.

Geto’s eyes sparkle with something devious as he calls you closer as if to tell you a secret. He whispers into your ear and it sends an involuntary shiver down your spine as you try to focus on his words. As you take in what he’s saying, an evil smile breaks out across your face. Gojo’s quick to get nosy, a hand on your shoulder pulling you back.

“What did he say?”

Chirping back at him, “Not telling.”

Gojo continues to hound you for a bit before Ieiri speaks up, “Can we pick a movie? I have other plans tonight you know?”

Geto agrees with her, “What genre?”

And just when you thought you’d have the upper hand for a bit, Gojo slaps you back down, “How about horror?”

The other two go along with it easily, fine with watching something scary. Apparently a newer film has just come to streaming and they’re all interested in it but while they talk about how good it seems, you’re semi spiralling. You look to Gojo, wondering if he remembers how much you can’t stand horror movies and by the shit eating grin on his face, you’re guessing that yes, he does remember this about you.

Ieiri must pick up on your hesitance, calling your name softly, “If you don’t wanna watch something scary we can watch something else.”

Geto turns to look at you, noticing your apparently obvious anxiety, “I’m cool with whatever.”

You feel awful, they came over to hang out with Gojo and they all want to watch this movie. Even though evil man next to you swayed it this way you don’t doubt they’d probably have watched it anyways if you weren’t here.

“No, it’s okay! We should watch it,” you give your best smile and they both seem placated by it, relaxing back into the couch.

A tug on your sleeve draws your attention back to Gojo, his joking expression gone. His voice lowered so the others can’t hear, “If you really don’t want to, we can watch something else… I was just teasing you.”

“I wanna watch it, I’m not a kid anymore,” you brush him off. They’re his friends and it’s his time with them, you don’t want to take that away from them.

He squints at you sceptically but jokes, “If you get scared you can always sleep with me tonight,” he winks and you dislike the way it makes you feel.

Scowling, you turn away from him but he only chuckles, pleased with your reaction. Then he’s starting the film, looking over to you a few more times before seemingly settling in his spot.

Scary movies themselves aren’t so awful, you can get through them, it’s the going to bed at night that’s less pleasant. It’s not like you think any of the monsters are real, it’s just that some small, irrational part of you has you feeling an awful dread. Laying in your bed at night and not opening your eyes for fear that something will be there looking back at you.

It's silly and something you wish you could say you grew out of but irrational fears aren’t known for being rational, the opposite in fact. It’ll be okay though, for a bit you’ll be a little scared of the emptiness of your room during the long hours of the night but that will pass.

The further into the film you get, the more antsy you become. It’s doing a good job of building tension and unsettling you and every moment that’s meant to frighten you, does. And while this is true for you, everyone else seems completely fine as they watch.

You’re actively fighting against yourself to not jump at the parts you’re meant to jump at, sufficiently scared and embarrassed over it. Nibbling at your lower lip as your eyes squint shut at a particularly loud part.

Something brushing against your hand has your eyes popping open, startling you. Looking down, you can see Gojo has slipped his hand under your blanket and blindly reached for yours. Once he’s found it, he takes your hand in his and squeezes once, his larger hand giving you a small amount of comfort.

The action doesn’t go unappreciated by you, relaxing slightly as he covertly holds your hand, hidden away from the two sitting by your side. Now every time you’re frightened, you grab at him and he simply brushes his thumb over your skin soothingly. It’s intimate and makes your heart flutter like it did earlier when he was on top of you. The movie is easier to get through like this but you can’t help but feel like your relationship with Gojo is on a precarious ledge.

When the movie is finished, your hand slips from his and you can’t help but notice his hesitance in letting you go. After that the night doesn’t go on for much longer, the four of you ordering dinner and eating before Ieiri and Geto are being walked to the door by both you and Gojo. Ieiri is ready to leave, eager for her other plans.

The way Geto looks at you reminds you of what he’d whispered to you before the film, a look of realisation crossing your features as you smile at him and Ieiri, “I had fun, bye Ieiri… S–” you hesitate before pushing through, “Suguru.”

Geto’s smile is huge as he returns your name, “Have a good night.”

Ieiri’s chuckle is quiet but doesn’t slip your notice and when you look to her, you see she’s looking at Gojo whose expression is dumbfounded. It’s like he’s an old computer slowly booting up, “Hey! Hey, what the hell!” He points between you and Geto.

Geto acts like he has no idea what’s set him off, “What?”

“We’ve known each other way longer!” Gojo whines at you.

You’re staring blankly at him, “Gojo, you’re being weird…”

“No! No, you’re being weird,” his hand clasps your shoulder, pulling you to face him instead of Geto. His other hand points to himself, “My name, say my name.”

You blink at him, “Gojo.”

He groans back at you, his shoulders slumping as he falls into you. His head sagged on your other shoulder as he laments this turn of events.

Ieiri adds fuel to the fire, “Call me Shoko.”

“Shoko,” you smile bright back at her, whether she offered just to further Gojo’s torment or not doesn’t change how happy you are to get a little closer to her.

“Oh!” She smirks at you, “My heart just skipped a beat,” she pinches your cheek, “You’re cute but I gotta go, bye.”

You wave awkwardly at her as she shuffles out the door, still being clung to by Gojo. He’s wallowing, “You have to call me by my name now, you have to.”

Geto pats Gojo’s back, you can’t tell if he actually feels bad about what he’s done or if he’s mocking him. He smiles politely at you, “Have fun with this!”

“Right… bye Suguru,” you wave him out too, now alone with a depressed Gojo who won’t let go.

Maybe you should’ve thought this through… the blowout feels like Gojo is about to get much more annoying and you’re the only one who has to live with him. “Would you get off me?”

“You’re so awful to me,” he fake sniffles.

“It wasn’t my idea, blame Suguru.”

“You’re even still calling him Suguru,” he collapses further into you, maybe he should’ve majored in theatre… since he’s so dramatic.

You sigh and stroke his hair soothingly a few times, hoping to calm him. “I’m sorry.”

He pulls back slightly to look at you through his lashes, “So you’ll call me Satoru?”

“I didn’t say that.”

He stands to his full height again, looming over you, “Why not?”

“Because you want it so bad,” a half truth, the other half is that it feels so intimate, especially now, especially with him.

“So, if I say I don’t mind, you’ll say it sooner?”

“Would you mean it?”

Thinking on it for a second before he decides, “No.”

“Then no,” you shrug and walk away from him, going to get ready for bed.

⁀ ⊹ ₊ “

The room is so silent and the dark is all consuming, you’re staring at your plain bedroom wall trying to work up the courage to roll over. The irrational fear that someone is behind you nagging in your brain, you thought since you were in such a good mood earlier that you’d forgotten about the movie but the unease is still deep in your bones.

Taking in a breath, you move quickly and roll over, flinging your legs over the side of the bed as fast as you can. Scuttling out the room, you find yourself at Gojo’s bedroom door. His offer earlier had definitely been a joke, you’re certain of that much but your room is scary and it’s worse because you’d only moved here a little while ago. It’s not like your familiar childhood home, this place still feels weird, specifically during the night.

Everything feels different at night and less recognisable and it’s made worse by how alone you feel. When something like this happened as a kid you’d at least feel soothed by the sound of someone up late watching television or the rattling of someone searching the fridge for food. This is unfamiliar and lonely and you wish you didn’t feel like this but since you do, you’re going to wake Gojo up and force him to hang out with you until you’re too sleepy to be scared.

Quietly you slip into his room, approaching his bed with light steps. His form is all spread out, making full use of his bed with his whole body, much like how he spreads out wherever he’s sat. It shouldn’t be an endearing quality but you can’t bring yourself to hate this about him, especially since he’s a fairly big guy.

He looks cute, you wouldn’t say it’s a peaceful sleep since he keeps pinching his brows as his lips move just slightly, like he’s speaking in his dream. But he looks cute, distinctly him. Staring at him like this is becoming creepy so you reach your hand to him, trying to wake him as carefully as you can.

Your touch is gentle but it wakes him easily, he’s always been a light sleeper. He rubs at his eyes with the back of his hand, making sleepy noises of confusion at you.

“I need you to wake up,” is all you say, like it explains why you’re in his room this late.

Gojo grunts at you, “What for?”

His voice is deeper than usual, words lazy with sleep. It makes your head fuzzy, enjoying how he sounds too much. Pushing aside your stupid feelings, you murmur, “I can’t sleep…”

A noise of unsurprise leaves him, eyes squinting up at you, “You should’ve just said you wanted to watch something else.”

“I was fine with watching it though.”

“And that’s why you’re waking me up? Because you’re fine?”

“I just need you to stay up with me until I’m too tired to be…” You trail off, not finishing your sentence.

Gojo finishes it for you, “Scared?”

“Will you just stay awake with me? Please?”

“No,” he slides over to the side of the bed furthest from you, “But my earlier offer stands,” he pats the empty side of the mattress.

He cannot be serious, “I’ve seen how you sleep; I think you’d suffocate me.”

Your name leaves him in an exasperated groan, “Just get in the bed, scaredy cat.”

It’s either this or go back to your empty room and as much as this feels like a bad idea, he’s making you feel better. “Stay on your side.”

“It’s my bed, the whole thing is my side,” he argues back.

Crawling onto his bed and getting under the covers you mutter, “Just don’t try to kill me with your stupid long limbs.”

“I promise nothing,” he stretches his arms up with a yawn.

A few moments of quiet pass and you assume he’s gone to sleep, his back now facing you. He’s so broad, looking at him like this makes him seem like a giant. Without really thinking it through your hand reaches for him, grabbing the material of his sleep shirt with your thumb and index finger.

Gojo mumbles, you can’t tell if you’ve woken him again or if he’d still been awake, “You good?”

Withdrawing your hand as you mutter, “Yeah… I’m just sorry… for waking you.”

He turns to face you, puff of breath leaving him when he flops onto his other side, “Don’t worry about it, I knew you didn’t handle scary movies well when I suggested one.”

“You knew I didn’t handle them well when we were kids, I’m an adult now,” you counter.

A low hum comes from him, “You’ve not changed very much.”

“You have,” he’s undeniably changed from when you were kids.

His interest is piqued, “How so?”

“You’re more annoying now,” you poke at his chest, “And meaner.”

He denies, “I am not mean.”

You look away in thought, “Hmm… maybe not mean but you’re cruel.”

“That’s worse.”

“You’re a tease,” you settle on.

He’s willing to concede, “I can’t deny that.”

“Because it’s true.”

“You get it the worst though,” he reaches for your hand poking at him, fingers unfurling yours and taking them in his.

Ignoring the way his touch makes you feel you sigh, “I have a feeling I knew this already.”

“I can’t help it; I like teasing you.” He smiles, “Your reactions are cute.” He uses his hold on your hand to tug you in closer to him, your front nearly colliding with his.

Suddenly, you’re nervous, “What are you doing?”

“Teasing you,” he answers easily, like it’s obvious.

You’re avoiding his eyes, looking to his throat, his chest, anywhere but his face, “Could you not?”

“I could,” he pauses, “but that’s not as fun.”

You’re so close to him, you rest your forehead onto his chest, “Gojo… if you’re not careful, I’ll start mistaking your teasing for flirting.”

“You wouldn’t be mistaking anything,” he half laughs, “If anything… you’d finally be catching on.”

Did you suddenly drift off or something? You pull back to look up at his face, “What?”

“I’ve been flirting with you the whole time,” he blinks at you, “to be honest I’m really surprised by how long it took you to realise that.”

Can it even be said you realised that? All you did was warn him of possible consequences, “I…”

“I’ve been laying it on thick too you know, I’m a little embarrassed for you,” he’s looking at you with faux pity.

Is he still teasing you, he might still be teasing you. Squinting sceptically at him, “I don’t know if I believe you.”

“Seriously?” He looks actually shocked; he leans down to level you with his gaze.

You frown back at him, “Stop looking at me like that.”

“I like looking at you.”

Okay, that one you could tell was flirting, “Gojo–”

He returns your name in the same tone, cutting you off. It’s tense, with your eyes locked and the now known fact that he’s been flirting with you for who knows how long. You should leave his bed but you don’t really want to. You’re so close now, not even having realised just how close you’d both moved to the other.

Gojo leans in as his hand leaves yours to instead hold your cheek, his lips pressing a soft peck to yours, once, twice, three times. When you’d caught on with his third kiss and kissed him back, he moves impossibly closer, his lips kissing you more. Feverous in how he pursues your mouth, becoming desperate in how he kisses you.

It’s making you dizzy and it’s hard to keep up with him, your hands reach for his shoulders and hold on. His hand moves for your hip, pulling at you, his lips insistent. Kiss messy and wet, his tongue licks into your mouth and you let it happen. Small noises leaving you at how good he’s making you feel from just this alone, he barely even parts to take a breath.

The hands you have on his shoulders push back; your breaths panted as you struggle to say what you want. “W–we should stop…”

He whines at you, disappointed, “Why?”

You stumble over your words, “Because it’s late and you’re sleepy and not thinking straight and–”

“–If you wanna stop that’s fine but don’t take this moment from me because of those reasons,” there’s something almost pathetic about him right now, “I’ve wanted to kiss you forever, don’t make me stop because you think I’ve not thought this through.”

His answer is surprising to you, taken aback by how needy he’s coming across. Instead of saying anything, you press a light kiss to his lips like he’d done to you. He’s quick to return it, lips demanding. His kisses are full and making you feel tingly all over, pulling a gasp from you with how he sucks your tongue into his mouth. This might make you crazy, you’re turned on and delirious.

Pressing your thighs together as slyly as possible, not wanting him to know just how worked up you are. The hand he has on your hip plays with the band of your pyjama pants, tugging them just slightly to dance his fingers along the exposed skin. Not moving any further than that, only gripping at you before sliding his hand back up.

The way he’s kissing you is breathtaking and yet also feels like he’s holding himself back, his fingers tapping against your skin as he refrains from exploring your body further. When he moves back, he nips at your lower lip and small moan slips from you. The sound pulls a visceral reaction from him, a soft groan leaving him as his head collapses onto your shoulder.

His breath tickles against your skin, “Please let me touch you.” He sounds so pitiful even to his own ears, words laced with desire.

For a moment you’re not even sure you heard him right, “What?”

He licks at your neck, shiver running down his spine, “You’ve gotta be so wet, just let me touch you, please.”

You stutter out, “I– I’m not having sex with you like this.”

Tone whinged back at you, “Fine. That’s fine, just– let me touch you.”

If you were surprised by his need before then you don’t know how you’re feeling right now, “Okay, you can–” your words are lost when he rolls you onto your back, his hands shoving your pants off. “Gojo, c– calm down.”

Eyes barely glancing at you, “Can’t.” He’s far too eager, skin buzzing with his excitement, Gojo could almost swear he’s still asleep and dreaming.

Reaching over clumsily to flick on his lamp atop the bedside table, he needs to be able to see this. Oh, and he feels breathless at the sight of you in your panties, like the wind has been knocked out of him. Lower half dressed in innocent white with a pastel little bow on the front. Almost feeling like it’s his birthday and this is his new favourite present he’s yet to unwrap.

“This what you’re always wearing under all those cute skirts?” He mutters out at you.

You’re not even sure you’re meant to have answered until his eyes flit to yours, clearly waiting for you to reply. “Uh, not– not always.”

“Gonna have to show me,” he smirks at the thought, wanting to see you in and out of every pair of panties you own.

Large hands trail up your thighs, landing at the edges of your underwear and just when you think he’s going to finally tug them off, he pulls up. Your panties moulding to your pussy obscenely, leaving nothing to the imagination with how he’d forced them up. Gasping indignantly at him, hands flying to grip his, your legs squirming. His lecherous gaze greedily eating up the view of you like this, delighting in how you’re wriggling. Beyond embarrassed at his actions, somehow feeling more exposed like this than if he’d just taken them off.

“Gojo!” You whine at him, hands clawing at his when he pulls just the littlest bit more on the material.

He bites his lip, not even gracing you with eye contact, too busy to, “What’s wrong?”

“You– you’re such a– a…”

He mocks your stumbling, “A– a– what?”

“A pervert,” you settle on.

Small, dazed giggles leave him, “Yeah, yeah I am,” a hand moves off your hip. Instead, slowly dragging an index finger through your wet slit over your panties, a low growl leaving him at just how slick you are. “Just for you though, sweetie. I’m your sick pervert.”

Your breath catches in your chest, not expecting him to be so depraved, “Could you please– hah– stop teasing.”

“I thought I made it clear that– oh fuck– I like teasing you,” in awe at just how much wetter you got when he started talking, “Hmm… I think you like it too.”

Pouting back at him, “I’d like it better if you touched me.”

“But I am touching you,” he singsongs back, barely there touch dancing around your clit.

“I was ri–right earlier,” your hips shuffle desperately to try and get him to touch where you so badly need it but he expertly avoids your movements.

Hand on your hip pushing you down flat into the mattress harshly, “About what?”

“Hm?” Your brain feels foggy and it takes you a second to remember what you’d started saying, “You are cruel.”

A breathless laugh leaves him, “Sweetheart, you got no idea.”

The devious smile he gives you has you believing him, no doubt in your mind that he could be worse than this. Regretfully, you use your trump card, “Hah– if you ma-make me cum– ah!– if you can make me–”

He takes your phrasing personally, “Oh, I can make you cum, don’t even–”

You cut him off but every time you try talking he taps lightly over your clit with two fingers, “If! Y-you can make– hng– mee~ cum, I’ll say your name.”

That gains his interest, offence gone at the promise of hearing your lovely voice murmur his name. He crawls over your body, face meeting yours, “Promise?”

Nodding your head lazily back at him, “Promise.”

“Gotta seal it with a kiss,” smile dopey as his eyes drop to your lips.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you press your mouth to his in a debauched kiss. Tongue pushing into his mouth to lick against his own, his chest vibrating with a sweet moan. Gojo feels fucked and stupid at how you’ve kissed him, not fully expecting you to press your lips to his like that. He doesn’t even want to part, mouth moving against yours effortlessly.

Realising his complete unwillingness to pull back, you do it for him, parting with a wet pop that makes his spine shudder. Gojo’s unable to help the small sound of yearning that leaves him, he would’ve been happy to die from suffocation if it meant you were kissing him like that the whole time.

“Gojo?”

Your voice shocks him back to his body, he’d been staring at you all dazed, “Now I just gotta make you cum, right?” His canines show in his grin, confident in himself.

Nodding at him, “Please.”

He snickers, “Such sweet manners, pretty,” Already shuffling back down your body, his new favourite place coming into his line of sight. Cruelly, he blows cool air on your heated core, enjoying the way you twitch at it.

Big hands pressing between your thighs and pushing them apart, making room for his large frame between them. Feeling indecent in how wide he spreads you open, even more so when he lets out a low whistle at the messy state of your panties. You’re about to admonish him for purposefully embarrassing you when he’s getting comfortable between your thighs and pressing his face into your covered cunt.

Large gasp pulling from your lungs at his shamelessness, skin growing so much hotter when you hear just how deeply he inhales. Deep groan reverberating from his chest, a sound so gutturally pleased that it makes you shy. Legs fighting against his palms, wanting to hide yourself from him and his salacious actions.

Your hands push at his head, “Oh my god, Gojo?! Could you be any more shameless?!”

He doesn’t pull back, speaking into your pussy, “Sure I could.”

Immediately following up with an example, tongue lolling out of his mouth to press up against you. Drooling onto your underwear, already wet material growing slicker. More moans tumble from his lips at the taste of you, enjoying this so much that you’re shocked by how aroused he’s making you.

“You– you’re embarrassing me.”

Only humming back at you happily, words muffled, “You’ll get over it.”

You’re not sure if you believe him, feeling so self-conscious by his brazen desire and not seeing that changing any time soon. Feeling twitchy by how turned on he’s got you from it, you shouldn’t be this into it, you shouldn’t be this into him but you are and you need him to do more to you.

Gojo feels insane, salivating over the taste of your cunt on his tongue through your panties. Poking his tongue into your hole, stopped by the material separating him from you. Simultaneously frustrated and so horny, enjoying this much more than he probably should.

Voice coming out pitchy and bitten back when you call to him, “Please– hng– take ‘em off.”

“Someone’s needy,” he accuses like he’s not about to start humping the mattress below him. Your hips wiggle down into him and he stifles an amused laugh, “let me savour this a bit longer.” And then he sucks on the material of your panties, saliva thoroughly drenching the already sopping wet garment.

Relishing in the shocked squeaks you let out at his action, finding something so addictive about all the sounds and faces you make when you’re flustered and embarrassed. All at once he grows far too impatient, the taste of you on his tongue nowhere near enough anymore, not when he knows you’re leaking divinely and honeyed sweet for him.

Hands rushed and frantic as he pulls your panties down, quickly realising that he’ll need to move to pull them off properly. He’s completely unwilling to move further than he has though so he simply tears them from your body, chucking them over his shoulder to let them fall in tatters.

“Gojo! Those were one of my fav– ah!–”

Not even bothering to listen to your full complaint, immediately diving in to slurp obscenely at your gooey cunt. His eyes roll to the back of his head when he finally tastes you directly, cock twitching in his pants as he moans. Tongue wasting no time slithering into your tight heat, feeling out of his mind as you throb and whine for him.

Why couldn’t you have realised he was flirting earlier? He could’ve been doing this so much sooner and the thought he’s been missing out makes him feel devastated. How many nights did you touch yourself while he was one door down and why is he suddenly jealous of your own hand? His tongue moves inside you and your back arches, a shaky hand reaching down for him which he takes in his own – he doesn’t want you moving him because he’s pretty sure he just found your sweet spot.

Repeating his movements just to get the same huffed moan and full body reaction he got the first time, a lazy smile on his face at the realisation. He has you wrapped around his finger now, sending you wave after wave of pleasure but never enough to make you cum. No, he’s having too much fun teasing you right now and he also knows that as soon as you cum this is over and he’s not ready to part with your gushing pussy just yet.

God, he’s like a fucking animal as he licks and sucks on your cunt, frenzied but lazy look in his eyes every time your gazes meet. He’s got you feeling like a real mess, head dizzied and heavy with the pleasure that’s soaking into your bones. Beyond turned on and so so ready to cum, at first your foggy brain thought maybe he didn’t know but now you know he’s just toying with you.

His deft tongue hitting all the right spots just until you’re about to finish only to start being evasive enough for the high to slip from you all too soon. It’s absolutely intentional and it’s hurting your feelings, why won’t he let you cum? Why does he like teasing you so bad?

Pleasured mind taking it all too personally, eyes wet and glazed when you whimper down to him, “Gojo– hah!– please– hng– please let me cum– mmph–” your voice hitches with your words, “I– I thought you wan– wanted to hear me– ah!– say your name?”

Gojo feels his dick leaking into his pants at the pitiful way you whine at him, finding it all too endearing that you’re this worked up over him. It makes him want to tease you a little more but he’s nothing if not pathetic for you and he’s all too quickly giving in to the cute sounds of you begging him to let you cum. He really could make out with your pretty pussy forever though.

Humming at your continued whimpers and pleads, trying to give reassurance that he’s about to be oh so nice to you but the vibrations have your thighs shaking so much more. Hips fighting to grind down into his face only to be steadied by his large hand on your hip, frustrated sounds leaving you at his continued resistance to help you get off.

Instead of trying to get you to understand, he’ll simply tongue fuck you until you climax. Focusing on that spot he found earlier, pressing his nose into your clit, loosening his grip a tiny bit so you’re able to grind down into him. Fuck, he might die if he lets you ride his face, to be used by you for pleasure could have him cumming untouched.

It’s perfect, it’s so perfect he just needs to not move. You try to tell him as much, “Don’t!– Don’t fffucking– I’m so– hnng!– ah!–”

You’re not even able to finish any of what you attempted to say, orgasm hitting you out of nowhere in the middle of trying to talk. Vision going dark as you shake and shiver through your climax, cunt pulsing around his tongue, desperate to be stuffed so full. You’re struggling to breathe through the best orgasm of your life, hand gripping onto Gojo’s tight as he keeps lapping at your achy pussy.

Gojo is in love with how creamy your delectable cunt is, he’s pussy drunk and feeling like he can’t stop. At least he wouldn’t be able to stop if it weren’t for the raging hard on he’s got, so hard it almost hurts. Reluctantly, he’s pulling back from your pussy and if you were just the tiniest bit more aware of your surroundings you’d feel bashful about how messy Gojo’s face is.

Not even bothering to wipe his face, tugging his shirt over his head quickly before slipping his hands under yours, not taking it off but pushing it up to expose your tits. Big hands groping at you, lightly pinching your nipples when he asks, “You still with me?”

“Uh huh,” nodding lazily back at him, limbs heavy and head buzzing. Watching him and the thinly veiled feral expression on his face as he palms your tits has you stifling down a moan.

There’s such an adorable look on your face, stupid and satisfied. Gojo’s barely holding onto his last thread of sanity, he wants to fuck you so bad but he said he wouldn’t, so he won’t. Resting a hand on the mattress he leans down closer to you, lips brushing the skin of your cheek before kissing your mouth sloppy.

You’re holding onto him, fingers digging into his shoulders. Unable to stop the small sounds he’s drawing from you, the effect he has on you sinful and unfair. Thighs rubbing together as his tongue licks at yours, low rumbles pulling from his chest. Still so horny for him but far too embarrassed to ask him nicely to fuck you.

Lips parting the smallest amount so he can ask, “Where’s my prize for making you cum?”

And now you’re remembering what you had promised if he managed to make you cum. Maybe if you were in your sane mind you’d try and wriggle your way out of it but considering he made you cum so hard you can’t even compare it to anything else, you’ll say it.

Taking a quick breath in and averting his gaze, you mumble, “…Satoru.”

His body reacts a whole lot more to that single call of his name than he thought it would, shiver running down his spine and dick twitching in his too tight sleep pants. Slumping down into you and whining, “Your voice is so pretty.”

Turning his head to the side, he latches onto your neck. Sucking a love bite into your skin, teeth nibbling at you before pulling away and licking over it.

He’d caught you off guard with it, gasp leaving you, “mmph– Gojo–”

He singsongs back, “–Satoru.” He nips at your skin lightly, “Say it again.”

His gaze on you feels heavy, watching your mouth carefully to see how the word forms, “Satoru.”

Eyes falling shut as he groans, savouring this for a moment before pulling from you and leaning back on his knees, “Sweetheart…” Large hands holding your thighs together by the knee as he asks, “can I fuck your thighs? Please?”

That was one of the last things you had expected him to ask of you, his straightforward request making you feel shy. It’s not even like you’re going to say no but you can’t have him thinking you’re too weak for him, “Aren’t you being a little greedy?”

He smiles big at you, like he already knows you don’t fully mean it, “I don’t think I’m following, pretty.”

“I agreed to say your name and that was it and now you’re asking for more…”

“I asked so nicely though,” he points out.

“You’re still being greedy.”

“Mhm,” he hums noncommittally, clearly he’s stopped paying attention. Already lifting your lower half off the bed and throwing both legs over one of his shoulders. “I’ve still not heard an answer from your pretty mouth yet.”

He’s holding you up so effortlessly, strong forearm holding onto your thighs. Free hand reaching down for the waistband of his pants. His eyes look to yours, eyebrows lifting in question, “Where’d your words go?”

“Okay,” you nod at him quickly, suddenly all too distracted by the sight of his slowly lowering pants. Happy trail far too enticing for you to even think of delaying this much further.

His hand stops moving, “‘Okay’ what?”

“Okay you can…” your eyes flit back to his hoping he’ll settle for you not having to say the whole phrase but with the expression on his face – patient and waiting – you can clearly see he’s not going to, “Yes… you can… fuck my thighs.”

He groans, pleased with your answer, “Fuck, thank you so much.”

Pants pushed down just enough for his cock to be freed. He’s so hard it looks aching, flushed a pretty shade of pink and leaking precum from the tip and down the sides. His hand squeezes the base of himself a couple times, taking deep breaths.

Tapping on your leg lightly to catch your distracted attention, “Open your thighs just a bit.”

Doing as he asked without questioning him, legs still over his shoulder as you give him room to move. He slides his cock between your thighs, resting between your cunt so wickedly that it has you fidgeting. The hand that had guided his dick grabs the outside of your leg and pushes, your thighs closing around him.

Gojo’s head tips back as he fights to keep his senses, your skin so warm and soft that he feels a little crazy. Pussy still so wet and messy for him that he can’t help but feel that go straight to his ego, you want him and that makes him feel all giddy.

Below him, you start writhing impatiently. The underside of his cock is pressed up against your clit and now you feel like you’re throbbing with the need for him to actually fuck you open. The moans that leave him are so pretty and you want to hear more, trying to move a little bit more in search of added pleasure but he’s quick to stop you.

The muscles in his arms bulge as he restrains your lower half, head dropping forward to look down his nose at you. The look he gives you makes you feel small, hole twitching at it. You need him to move right now and you need it bad, every part of you screaming for it.

“Move?” your lashes flutter up at him, “I need you– ngh– to move.”

Exasperated but all too amused breath leaving him, “You’re so needy. It’s making me dizzy.”

Frowning at his words, “I am not– ah!–”

But he’s quickly drawing his hips back and dragging his big cock through your folds before slamming forward, the whole length of him driving you insane. Between your thighs feeling so soaked, brain melting all at once.

“Fuck, fuck fuck, fuck– this is– you’re too– hnng–” Everything Gojo is trying to say is cut off by either moans or a brand-new line of thought.

With every thrust he makes you feel a little less like a person and a whole lot more desperate for him. It feels good, really good, so good that you want more. The fact that you’re aware of the fact he’s not even inside you and you’re feeling this good has your brain short circuiting. Fingers digging into the sheets, attempting to ground yourself and completely failing.

Your pussy is positively weeping for him; to be filled by him and it’s taking all of his strength to ignore the way your hole is borderline begging for his dick. Brows furrowed as he focuses on slamming between your thighs, already feeling so pitifully close to cumming like this. How he’s even held on this long is a wonder to him, too close to cumming earlier when he was tongue deep in your cunt.

Hitting your breaking point, you whimper out to him, “Gojo– hng– just put it in– hah!– you can put it in,” nodding your head desperately at him.

Chuckling breathlessly at your whining, “I thought you didn’t– fuck– didn’t wanna have sex with me like this?” He recalls your earlier assertion.

“Hnn– I– ah– changed my mind?”

Biting his lip to stop his moans enough to speak, “You’re talking outta your pussy, sweetheart.”

“I’m not, I’m not– hah!– please put it inside, please.” Worried that you’re not swaying him enough but you want it so fucking bad, insides aching for him, “Satoru, please.”

Well that’s just playing dirty, a small whine slipping from him at your use of his name, stuffing it down just so he can seem composed when he replies, “Well, when you beg me so sweetly like that how could I ever say no?”

Dropping your lower half onto the bed makes you mewl at the loss of friction and he can’t help but laugh airily at your despair. Opening your thighs obscenely just to drag his cock through your sloppy cunt, shivering at how messy you are. Little hole shuddering for him, the sight of it makes him tut.

“Are you even gonna be able to take me, hmm?” he wonders aloud to you.

You’re already nodding back at him, “You can make it fit…” eyes wet and fucked when you address him, “can’t you?”

You may as well have just shot him fucking dead, “Of course I can.” Eyes glinting in the low light of the room, “‘Course I can.”

Slowly pressing into you, opening you up so lewdly on just the tip of his cock. Your hands already reaching for him and gripping onto the hands on your hips. The amount of control he needs for this is astounding and you’re not helping with how twitchy and worked up you are. Every time you show just how much you’re enjoying this, how much you want him, he gets just that littlest bit closer to cumming prematurely.

“Sweetie,” he calls to you, words barely bitten back, “I need you to relax for me.”

“I’m trying, you’re just so–” Your eyes drawing down to where he’s picked you up and started working you open, “–big.”

Involuntarily, his hips drive forward, the tip of him finally slipping into you. The both of you let out moaned sighs, you’re fighting the urge to kick your legs, already feeling so good and nowhere near close to taking all of him.

“You’re gonna kill me, you’re trying to kill me,” he huffs out, feeling like the snug fit of your cunt might actually kill him dead right now and his only regret would be not being balls deep already.

His words are rushed and pitchy at the tail end, like he’s so close to whining about how good it feels. The soft flush on his skin is pretty, expression all twisted in so much pleasure. Looking at him is making you feel too many things, overwhelmed by his cock and how attractive he is. Bringing your hands up to cover your eyes, hiding him from your view.

Your name rolls from his tongue in a soft moan, “What are you– hah– doing?”

His slightly trembling voice has you clenching down on him, “I can’t– I can’t look at you right now.”

“Hmm? Why not?” The smile he’s definitely sporting can be heard in his tone. “Am I turning you on too much,” he taunts.

Replying hesitantly but honestly, “Yeah…”

Gojo was not expecting that from you, his ego growing tenfold from the idea alone, the confirmation only serving to make him even more unbearable. Small giggles leaving him, “How embarrassing~”

Your arms drop in exasperation, going to frown at him but as soon as your hands are off your face, he’s sliding into you a few more inches. Your brain no longer capable of thinking of anything at all, its sole purpose now registering the immense pleasure he’s giving you. Moans broken and shocked at his unexpected move, if your hips were on the mattress you have no doubt that you’d be trying to buck up into him just to take him all.

“Want my whole dick, sweetie?” He hums at you, thumbs rubbing soothingly on your hips from where he’s holding you up.

Your eyes feel wet, vision blurry, “I– hah!– want it, all of it.”

“‘Course you do,” he smirks, “so turned on just by the sight of me.”

Future you will be cursing horny you for admitting that to him so easily, he will absolutely be reminding you of this later. “Sh– shut up.”

“You sure you want me to?” A single brow quirking in your direction, “I think you like my voice, pussy squeezes me so nice when I talk to you.”

And then he’s slowly sinking into you inch by delicious inch, taking care as he does, cautious of how your tight, little hole swallows his cock. Drooling at the lewd sight of your pussy bulging around him, small and bitten back noises leaving him as he pushes into you.

You’re taking him so well, wrapped so perfectly around him, sinfully wet and soft. Cunt so greedy in how you suck him in that he might pass out, trying to focus so hard on filling you completely before he blows his load.

Damn near whimpering when his pelvis hits yours, struggling so bad to hold completely still, softly grinding into you. His whole body feels like it’s buzzing, ears thumping as his blood rushes in his head. Completely elated to be so deep inside you, even more so to see the way you squirm under him.

Your eyes already look so fucked out and dumb, lashes fluttering, struggling to keep them open. Everything feels raw and exposed, mind numbed and complacent, “Move– hnng– you need to– hnn– move.”

“Wait,” he groans, eyes closing to control his breathing, whines still trapped in every breath he takes.

“But–”

“–So cute, you’re so cute– hnng– and you feel fucking fantastic, too good that I need– hah– a moment to breathe before I cum inside you, okay?” He rushes out, words tumbling over each other just so he can adequately warn you that he’s certain this will end early if he starts moving any more than this.

That was cute of him, his bitten back words and grit teeth followed by soft sounds of feeling just so good has your heart jumping in your chest. Struggling so hard to be patient right now, beyond worked up, pussy absolutely throbbing around him. So slick and only getting wetter, especially when he’s admitted to feeling so good from sitting balls deep that there’s risk of him cumming before he wants to.

Maybe distracting him will work, “I’m glad… we got to get closer again.”

“Oh, we’re close alright,” he snarks, looking down at where he’s fucked so deep inside your pussy that it should be criminal.

“You’re such a pervert,” you complain, “I was trying to help.”

Leaning down, he rounds his arms under and around your body, hugging you flush to him. He doesn’t let go of you even as he rises, cock pulsing so hot inside you as he kneels on the bed. You’re clinging onto him so tight, praying that he doesn’t drop you.

“You’re gonna drop me,” you worry.

Nuzzling his face against your cheek, “I wouldn’t do anything to risk losing the tight heat of your pussy, sweetie.” Planting a sloppy kiss to your cheek and then your lips, “Just make sure to hold on tight.”

“You can’t drop me,” you assert.

He soothes, “I won’t.”

Lips locking with yours again, the urge to kiss you sitting too heavy in his chest to ignore. Tongue licking against your own languidly, kissing you so softly, taking his time. Mouth hot and wet as his lips smack against yours, his cock jerking inside you at how it feels to have his lips on yours.

Every part of you is buzzing, his kiss much more gentle and caring compared to the frenzied and needy way he had kissed you earlier. It’s making your heart feel weighted, this shared moment where he’s so deep inside you and kissing you so sweetly feeling so tender that it almost hurts.

Keeping his mouth on yours as his arms move from behind you to grip your thighs, he’s not even sure you register the change, still kissing him back so devotedly. And all he can think about is how bad he’s got it for you now, nipping at your lower lip to make you gasp before kissing you full again.

Hips pulling back, the slow drag of his heavy cock making your spine shudder. Keening into his kiss, lips dropping from his to moan.

“You’re so pretty,” he compliments low to you just before he slams back into you all at once.

The breath you’d had in your lungs exhaled so fast it makes your head spin, pathetic and whingey mewls the only thing leaving you. The compliment he’d given you making you feel a sickening kind of gooey fondness, feeling bashful at his sincere words. His kindness juxtaposed by the harsh way his dick is fucking into you.

Soft and delirious giggles leaving him, “You liked that~” He purrs, head dipped so his lips drag against your collar bone, “I’ll remember that.”

“D– don’t know– hnng!– what you’re talking about,” you babble back.

He coos at you, “I’m talking about– hah– how you liked being told– fuck– how pretty you are while I’m stuffing you oh so full.”

And you really wish you could lie to yourself about how much you like it, but your body is betraying you so severely, cunt gripping him tighter and gushing that bit slicker. Wet sloppy sound of him fucking you hard filling the room, squelching messy and lewd and embarrassing. So turned on that it doesn’t even matter, barely managing to garble out his name, moaning it over and over like a chant.

Back to being so horny and out of your mind that you can’t bring yourself to care about how needy and desperate you’re coming across. Hanging onto him for dear life as he thrusts so fast and deep that you’re seeing stars. His grip on your hips using you as if you’re a toy for him to fuck.

Tip of his cock hitting your cervix with each re-entry, hitting against every delectable inch inside you so completely and effortlessly that you’re starting to drool. “I– You’re so– ah!– deep!”

“Am I?” He stops thrusting, sitting as deep as he can go inside you, single hand drawing up to your stomach, “That means you can feel me here?” and then he’s pressing down.

You grip onto him tighter, clinging desperately, nodding fervently, “Mhm– yes– yeah–”

“–Already close, huh?” He notes. Your reaction so visceral, cunt pulsing around him rhythmically.

“Keep moving?” You rest your head on his shoulder, speaking into his skin, “Please, ‘Toru.”

Evil, that nickname for him on your tongue is so wicked and he doesn’t even think you realise you’ve just called him that. “You’re sending me to an early grave,” he mutters.

Hand back on your thigh in no time, lifting you with ease to keep fucking you breathless. Feeling absolutely devastated by how adorable you are, by how needy you are. Cunt positively creaming around him, saccharine sweet as your pussy begs for him over and over.

Tongue lazy in your mouth at you stutter out calls of his name, starting to have trouble holding onto him effectively. Gojo is the only thing stopping you from slipping back onto the bed, drooling onto his skin. Mindlessly, you press a soft kiss to his shoulder, and you just barely hear  the mewl he lets out because of it.

He’s so close to cumming, your loving kiss on his skin causing everything inside of him to go weak for you. “Sweetie, you feel so good– hnn– so so soso good,” he’s drawing in a shaky breath, “and now I need you to cum so good for me, yeah?”

Practically begging for you to cum on him, needing to feel it but you’re so out of it that you can’t reply coherently. Every word a sputtered whimper that you couldn’t stifle down without a hand on your mouth. You’re a complete mess and he feels so much overwhelming pride over the fact that he’s done that to you.

The only sounds you can hear anymore are the soft and sighed whines of Gojo holding back his orgasm, the lewd slapping of skin against skin, and the pleasant thrumming in your ears. The noises you assume you’re making not even fully registering to you, much preferring to hear Gojo’s anyways.

So close you can taste it and when he starts giving little rutted grinds of his hips every time your pelvises meet, you’re done for. Crying out broken moans as your cunt pulses hot and wet around him, cumming so hard you lose focus, vision dark and hazy and fucked so stupid.

You’re gripping him so tight, pussy trying to desperately milk him of everything he’s got. Veins in his cock throbbing against your walls so sinfully. Feeling so fucking sensitive with how he’d been holding back from cumming pretty much since he put his mouth on you.

Urgently, he gets your attention, “I’m gonna fucking– hnnn– cum, I need to–  hah–  I need to put you down so I can pull out.”

You only cling onto him tighter and shake your head, legs closing around him firmer, “Cum like this.”

And even if he wanted to argue with you a little more… he couldn’t. The lazy way the words formed against his skin and the cute way you’re drooling on him as him cumming so suddenly. Forcefully slamming into you a final time, dumping all of his cum so deep inside you and painting your walls an obscene creamy white. Hands gripping your thighs so hard that he thinks he might leave bruises of his hand prints behind. That thought alone making his dick twitch even more.

Feeling so boneless as he very carefully lays you down on the bed, his breaths coming fast against your skin as he reels from his own orgasm. Staying like that for a moment, pressed so close to you while you both come down from your highs. Aware enough to hold himself up by an arm so he doesn’t crush you under his weight.

As he goes to pull away he quickly realises you’re not about to let him go, “Gotta let me go, sweetheart,” he mumbles.

Brain taking a second to catch up to what he’s just said and the fact that you’re still clinging onto him, “Hm?... oh… m’sorry.”

His heart seizes in his chest, and he can’t help but press sweet kisses to your lips over and over, humming happily against you. Your grip loosens on him, and he fights against himself to pull back, there’s something he really wants to see.

Sitting back just to watch as he pulls out of you, his seed leaking from your gooey hole as he does. Shuddering at the view of it, his lecherous gaze lighting up at how much he’d cum inside you. As if on autopilot, his fingers collect what’s leaking from you and stuff it back inside, stroking against your inner walls.

His intention far from innocent, perverted touch making you twitch and whine. So hypersensitive from everything he’s put you through, one of your own hands reach down for his and grab at his wrist, trying to stop him.

“What’s wrong?” He asks through a smile.

You whimper at him, “Too sensitive, ‘Toru.”

Oh and there’s that nickname again, the one that make his heart skip a beat. “You’re okay, sweetie,” he hums as praise, “doing so well for me, you can cum one more time can’t you?”

You shake your head but your grip loosens and his grin grows wide on his face, he’s never forgetting how reactive you are. Still, he’s careful with you, he knows he just fucked you within an inch of your life, touch gentle as he fingers your pussy full of him.

Scissoring his fingers and gently rubbing circles into your clit with his thumb, “Your pussy is divine.” He continues cooing at you more, “Took me so well, so greedy for me, hm? So wet and tight, had me feeling like I was going crazy…”

You want to tell him to shut up, that he’s so embarrassing and shameless but your words won’t come. Mouth too occupied with letting loose the scandalous cries of pleasure you’re feeling, damn near pornographic in nature.

Back arching meanly only to be pushed right back down by his hand on you, trailing it from your sternum down your torso to just over your lower stomach. Lustful and plotting grin on his face when he pushes down, more of his cum leaving you only for his fingers to pull out to stuff it all back in.

It’s like he’s playing with you, getting a sick kind of enjoyment out of watching you squirm and leak with his seed. Already you’re so close again, barely having come down before he started finger fucking you, sensitive and dopey.

“Someone’s getting close,” he singsongs to you, the clicking sounds of him playing with your sopping wet cunt making your skin hot with shame.

Gojo puts effort into focusing in on that one spot he found earlier when he was tongue deep in your pussy, stroking you over and over, elated by the shocked and fucked look on your face. Body fighting so hard against its own pleasure and yet still greedy and begging for more.

Eyes rolling to the back of your skull as you cum yet again, struggling to breathe through it, whining out Gojo’s name over and over like how you did earlier. Twitchy and high strung and so so sensitive, thighs closing around his hand as you shake through your orgasm.

Forearm covering your eyes as tears slip from your waterline, everything feels so raw and electric and hot. Unable to even hear properly with how your head is rushing, all your senses dulled and simultaneously on edge.

Gojo tickles his touch up the outside of your thigh and you jerk at it, “Atta girl, did such a good job,” he compliments.

“I died,” you huff out.

“You didn’t die,” he wipes his fingers on your thigh, before crawling up your body.

You continue to complain, “You killed me.”

“I would never,” pulling back the arm hiding your face from him, “I like you far too much for that.”

Your only response back are begrudged grumbles that you don’t really mean. It’s hard to play angry at him well when you’re so high on your pleasure, body buzzing so pleasantly and head still dizzyingly content.

He smiles fondly at you before kissing you sweetly, lips lingering for a moment and then stating, “I’ll be back.”

And then he’s gone, and you’re left on the bed swimming in the relaxed and satisfying feeling thrumming through every inch of your bones. He shuffles around his room for a moment, changing into a clean pair of pants before scuttling out the door quickly.

Semi confused on where he’s gone until he comes back with a glass of water and a towel in the other, “Can you sit up for me?” You lay still for a moment, and it prompts him to check, “You can’t?”

“I’m thinking,” you don’t really want to get up, but you do, slowly dragging you body up to rest against his headboard.

He hands you the glass, motioning for you to drink while he sits down by your legs. Using the towel to gently wipe between them, careful not to touch you where you’re too sensitive. you finish the water and set the glass down on his bedside table where his lamp is lighting up the room.

Glancing down you quickly realise your shirt is still rolled up over your tits haphazardly, it suddenly feels dirty, you want a new shirt. “Gojo, can you grab me a shirt from my room… please?”

“Hmm?” He looks up to you and shamelessly stares at your tits, to which you cover them with your arms and frown, “I’m wiping my cum from between your thighs but you’re suddenly too shy for me to look at your tits?”

It’s not logical but that’s exactly how it feels, “Yes.”

Playfully, he rolls his eyes but gets up, discarding the towel in his hamper. He doesn’t go to your room though, simply tugging a shirt from one of his drawers. Walking back over to you with it in hand, “Arms up.”

Thoughtlessly, you do as he asks without question, arms raised up and waiting. Of course he takes the opportunity to blatantly stare at your chest, “Hey!” Your arms drop down.

An unapologetic giggle from him, “Sorry, sorry. Raise ‘em up again.”

You pout but you do lift them again and this time he actually takes your shirt off, it gets chucked over with the towel and the fresh shirt he grabbed is pulled over your head. It hangs off your frame and is clearly not your size but it’s comfy and soft and it smells like him.

Suddenly you’re feeling sleepy, eyes blinking slow as you struggle to keep awake. Something that changes when Gojo simply picks you up off his bed and starts walking out the room with you.

Yawning as you rest your head on him, “Where are we going?”

“To your bed, someone made a huge mess of mine,” he grins.

“And whose fault was that?”

Quirking a brow at you, “I’m pretty sure it’s yours.”

Feeling bashful as you pointedly look away from him, “Shut up…”

You both get into your bed beside each other, and you can’t help but snuggle into him, he’s so large and warm and it’s not even like you could avoid it because he was quick to wrap an arm around you and pull you snug to him.

Yeah… this friendship was definitely on a precarious ledge, and you tumbled right over the edge of it…

𝒂.𝒏. meow meow meow i hope you enjoyedddd,, this had been sitting in my writing folder since the middle of january and i couldn't wait anymore. i needed it finished and it's technically not because i had so many roommate gojo ideas that i couldn't add :< anyways !! THANKS FOR READING ILY❕

[⚠︎] — 𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈.ᐟ do not reupload / repost / translate / plagiarise my works © all works are the intellectual property of lovelivision

[nekonaps0]

Wait… YOU HAVE A BOYFRIEND?! Pt1

✦part2 part3

✦fem!reader

✦characters: Lilia, Jade, Epel

✦streamer reader keeps her relationship private until….

✦good luck finding your usernames (post)

Lilia Vanrouge

Your brows furrowed, jaw clenched as you peeked around a digital corner. “Okay, chat, they’re camping again. Literally again. Same deam spot. I swear these players don’t even blink, they just sit there like… like angry little mushrooms waiting to ruin my day.”

Chat:

chris-2220: campers = evil confirmed

jen-jen: she’s boutta lose it

best_mod: NOT THE MUSHROOMS LMAO

y/n.fan: someone save her

hanafubukki: rage incoming in 3…2…1…

You turned the corner in-game.

BOOM.

You screamed. “OH MY GOD!! AGAIN?! I JUST SPAWNED, YOU LOSERS PIECE OF—”

Your avatar ragdolled to the ground for the fifth time. Your hands flew into the air in defeat as you let out a long, loud puff. "Ugh, I hate this. I hate all of this."

You flopped back in your gaming chair, ready to launch into a full blown gamer rant when…

“You always get this dramatic when you lose. It’s adorable.”

You froze. Your heart stopped. Your soul left your body.

Because that was a very familiar voice. A very recognizable, flirty, smug, velvet smooth voice coming from just out of frame. Your eyes widened. Your hands shot up like you were being held at gunpoint.

And then…

Chat:

chris-2220: WAIT! WHO IS THAT? WHO JUST SAID THAT?! WAS THAT A GUY’S VOICE??? TELL US NOW!

hanafubukki: “adorable”??? HELLO??? WHY WAS THAT KINDA HOT

blessingofthestars: I NEED HIM TO SPEAK AGAIN PLS

jen-jen: SHE’S GOT A MAN??

masquerade-of-misery: HE SOUNDED WAY TOO SMOOTH TO BE REAL

You started laughing nervously. “Uh…I…guys, that was, um… just… the neighbor! Haha! Funny thing. Thin walls. Ha…”

You were fumbling hard. The stammering. The fake giggles. The absolute refusal to look directly at chat. From behind you, the voice returned, closer this time, clearly amused.

“Tell them I said hi.”

You turned slowly. He did not just… You whipped your head back to the camera. “I… I can explain!!!!”

Chat:

Y/N_simp: DEAD! I’M DEAD

hanafubukki: HE SAID HI I’M SCREAMING!
y/n.fan: MYSTERY BOYFRIEND???

chris-2220: YOU’VE BEEN HIDING A MAN THIS WHOLE TIME???

masquerade-of-misery: DROP HIS @ !DROP HIS BLOOD TYPE! WE NEED RECEIPTS!

blessingofthestars: WHY IS HE KINDA FLIRTY

jen-jen: DID SHE JUST GET EXPOSED LIVE LMAOOOOO

You covered your face with both hands, groaning. “I hate you,” you muttered over your shoulder.

Lilia leaned casually into frame, smirking like the smug menace he was, and gave the camera a playful wink. “Aw, come now, love. They seem fun.”

Chat:

chris-2220: OH MY GOD HE’S CUTE

y/n.fan: STOP IT! YOU’RE KILLING US

Y/N_simp: SHE’S SO RED RN I’M IN LOVE

hanafubukki: girl… good for you…

best_mod: I SHIP IT

You exhaled in defeat, cheeks glowing. “…Okay. Yes. That was Lilia. He’s… my boyfriend. Surprise…”

You shot him a glare. He blew you a kiss. “I was gonna keep it private a little longer,” you mumbled.

Lilia perched himself on the arm of your chair and rested a hand on your shoulder. “Where’s the fun in that, love?”

Jade Leech

You were mid way through a relaxed, late afternoon stream, lounging in your chair with your headset perched lazily over one ear. Chat was a chill ocean of messages, questions, and banter as you leaned back and scrolled through your upcoming schedule.

“Okay, so for Thursday’s stream, we’re doing the collab with CayCay, and then next Monday’s stream might be an IRL one… if the weather behaves,” you said.

Chat:

Y/n.mushroom: pls tell me the IRL stream is hiking again!

usernamesarehardtomake: i love the forest ones!!

jen-jen: what’s the outfit for Monday 👀

tutorialb0ss: we want the chaos collab on Thursday 


You smiled, stretching a little then…

Click.

The door to your room opened behind you, and you instantly stiffened. Your mouth hung open mid sentence. Jade walked in. Calm, composed… and visibly excited, at least, Jade excited, which meant a slight gleam in his eyes and a gentle lift to his smile. In his hands was a small, intricately carved wooden box.

“I found some new kind of mushrooms,” he said with quiet enthusiasm. “They’re a curious shade of violet and had an unusual texture when I plucked them.”

Your entire soul left your body. Because not only did he forget you were streaming, but he had walked in exactly the way he always did, soft footed, confident, and directly into frame.

Your eyes shot wide. The camera only caught him from the chest down, but still…. white sleeves rolled neatly at his elbows, forest dusted gloves, and his voice.

That smooth, hypnotic voice.

Chat:

Y/nsupport: WHO WAS THAT!?

jen-jen: “I found some mushrooms”?? HELLO??

Y/n.mushroom: voice reveal of some mystery man

wokasiv: he sounds hot not gonna lie

tutorialb0ss: THE WAY HE SOUNDED EXCITED ABOUT MUSHROOMS! IM CRYING!

usernamesarehardtomake: MA’AM. MA’AM EXPLAIN RIGHT NOW! WHOSE FOREARMS ARE THOSE???

You were frozen, like a deer in headlights. “...Hi, Jade,” you managed weakly, one hand awkwardly hovering over your mouse. “You’re, uh… on camera.”

Jade blinked once, then glanced at the monitor. “Ah,” he said smoothly.

He didn’t panic… of course he didn’t. He just tilted his head slightly, curious. “Am I interrupting?”

“I—uh—yes. I mean no. I mean… I forgot to end stream before you got home,” you stammered, heat crawling up your neck. “That’s… my bad.”

Jade chuckled. “I did wonder. You said you would be finished by the time I returned.” He placed the mushroom box on your desk gently. “But you get so absorbed when you’re enjoying yourself. It’s endearing.”

Chat:

tutorialb0ss: END??EAR??ING???

neko: HE’S SO CALM WTF

jen-jen: HE PUT A BOX DOWN. WHAT’S IN THE BOX?!?

usernamesarehardtomake: BRO WHY HE SOUND LIKE A FAIRY TALE VILLAIN I WANNA DATE

wokasiv: HIS VOICE IS ILLEGAL

Y/n.mushroom: DROP HIS FACE. DROP THE CAM. WE WANNA SEE.

You rubbed your face, trying to hide your red cheeks. “Chat, this is Jade. Yes. He’s my boyfriend. No, I wasn’t planning on telling you like this.”

Jade leaned down just enough for his face to almost peek into frame, still hidden, but close enough that you felt his breath near your ear. “Would you like me to say hello properly?” he murmured.

Your brain short-circuited. “Nope! Nope, we’re good, thanks!” you blurted out, smacking the ‘Be Right Back’ screen hotkey in a flustered panic.

Chat:

wokasiv: SHE’S LOSING IT!

usernamesarehardtomake: STOP THIS IS THE BEST STREAM EVER

neko: SHE WENT ✨BRB✨ REAL FAST

tutorialb0ss: MUSHROOM BOYFRIEND REVEAL IS ICONIC

Y/nsupport: LET HIM SPEAK AGAIN PLSSSS

Y/n.mushroom: this man got her blushing and panicking I’m OBSESSED

better.twin: Ew…

You turned in your chair and glared at Jade, who smiled sweetly down at you like he hadn’t just broken your entire streamer career in five seconds flat. “This is your fault,” you muttered.

He leaned in and kissed your temple, voice like silk. “I brought mushrooms.”

“…Fine. You’re forgiven. But next time!!!.”

Epel Felmier

You were in the middle of a comfy, easy going stream, your hoodie sleeves bunched up at your elbows and a grin on your face as you held up your new prototype merch mug to the camera. “So this is the first test version. The handle’s gonna be reshaped, and the logo will probably glow in the dark. Which I think is so cool,” you said proudly, spinning the mug between your fingers.

“The hoodie samples are coming next week, and I’m thinking of doing a special pre order drop for subs first”

Chat:

Y/n.lil.apple: that mug is so cute!

waitlexist: GLOW IN THE DARK??? OKAYYY

Y/n.notice_me: take my wallet pls

glitchingmind: when’s the drop date?? 👀👀

Neko: WAIT WHO JUST WALKED BY???

You blinked. “Huh?” You glanced behind you but nothing was there. Just your bedroom door half open.

“Someone walked by?” you repeated slowly, squinting toward the hallway.

Chat:

Y/n.lil.apple: YES SOMEONE LITERALLY JUST PASSED

Y/N_simp: lilac hoodie guy! he was cute

waitlexist: HE HAD A BABY FACE

Neko: HE’S SO ADORABLE! was that your brother??? 👀👀👀

You snorted, laughing. “My brother? I don’t have a brother.” You leaned closer to read more comments, scrolling up.

“Wait… what? ‘He’s so adorable, was that your brother?’... I—huh?” You read the comment out loud.

Before you could even register your confusion fully…

SLAM.

The door flew open, and Epel marched back in like a storm in human form, glaring straight at your monitor with arms crossed over his chest and righteous fury radiating from him. “Who the fuck are you calling adorable?!” he snapped, voice sharp and thick with his unmistakable accent. “AND I’M HER BOYFRIEND!!”

You froze.

Chat? Exploded.

Chat:

Y/N_simp: EXCUSE ME?!?!?!?!?! BOYFRIEND???

waitlexist: “WHO THE FUCK” SIR HELLO???

Neko: LMAOOOOOOOOOOO

Y/n.notice_me: BABYGIRL HAS A BOYFRIEND REVEAL LIVE

glitchingmind: THIS IS THE FUNNIEST THING EVER

Y/N_simp: YOU’RE DATING THAT ANGRY LITTLE GRAPE??

Y/n.fan_: I THOUGHT HE WAS A BABY HE’S A WHOLE MAN???

Y/n.lil.apple: THE ACCENT CAME OUT HARD 😭😭😭

You turned slowly in your chair, wide eyed. “Epel… what… why did you yell at chat?!”

“They called me adorable,” he said indignantly, walking fully into the room now, jaw tense. “Like I’m some little purse puppy or somethin’… tch. I ain’t adorable, I’m tough. I work out! I chop wood! You’ve seen my arms!”

You blinked at him. “...They didn’t mean it in a bad way.”

“I don’t care, they’re wrong!” He pointed at your screen dramatically. “Tell them. Tell them I’m your man, not your deam brother!”

You slapped your hand over your mouth to hide your laughter, shoulders shaking. “Okay okay! yes, everyone, that was Epel,” you said between giggles. “He’s not my brother. He’s my boyfriend. My… very proud boyfriend.”

Chat:

waitlexist: “I CHOP WOOD” OKAY LUMBERJACK

Y/n.fan_: SIR RELAX WE GET IT

Y/n.notice_me: THE ACCENT WHEN HE’S MAD IS KINDA 👀

Y/n.lil.apple: I THOUGHT HE WAS CUTE, BUT HE’S SCARY NOW!

glitchingmind: “I’M HER MAN” I’M GONNA DIE

Y/N_simp: you got yourself a firecracker

Neko: PLS BRING HIM ON STREAM MORE

Epel huffed but looked satisfied. “Damn right.”

You finally turned to him, eyes warm. “You could’ve just said hi, you know.”

He shrugged. “Wouldn’t be as fun.”

Then, with all the casualness in the world, he leaned down and kissed your cheek, making your chat short circuit even harder, before walking off again like nothing happened.

You stared at your camera, stunned. “...So anyway, about that merch drop.”

Chat:

Neko: MAM.

Y/N_simp: WE’RE NOT DONE.

Y/n.lil.apple: GET HIM BACK HERE

glitchingmind: WE NEED A COUPLE STREAM NOW

waitlexist: HOW DARE YOU JUST GO BACK TO BUSINESS

..............................................................................................................................

If you wanna be in the next, drop your favorite character in the comments.

[manariee]

SUGAR HONEY SEXY BABY

𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝟎𝟕 💴 collection of seven boys who are rich enough to buy the world but want only you

엔하이픈 & fem!reader wc: 780 cw: light romantic poessessiveness, alcohol mentions, teasing

REBLOG4AKISS

MANA: a treat for not writing back to friends in time ..

𝐋𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐔𝐍𝐆

If there was something Lee Heeseung was known for, it was his charm.

Known for his flirty behaviour with women, god did they love him.

But was Lee Heeseung still the same after a particular lady told him to know his place?

Absolutely not.

''Baby, do you think this would look better in gold or diamond?''

''Heeseung this is the fifth bracelet this month..''

He just flopped down beside you, sneaking his arm around your shoulders. ''It has your initials, see? This way everyone will know who i belong to.''

In his world of private jet trips and bright camera flashes, you were his favorite luxury - one he'd never stop chasing, even after catching you.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐍𝐆

Jay held your hand like he was cradling something irreplacable. His high quality suit fits like it's sewn by angels. He speaks softly, always with intention.

''Do you like the wine?'' he asks, watching more than his food.

You smile, the one he swears is worth billions. ''It's amazing.''

He reaches for your hand across the table, handing a velvet box in your hands.

You raise your brows, intrigued open it and sigh when you see the gold neclace. ''Jay..''

He stood up and sat beside you, shushing you as he kissed your temple.

''All this gold means nothing if you're not shining beside me sweetheart.''

𝐒𝐈𝐌 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐘𝐔𝐍

Jake bursts into the penthouse with a bag of pastries.

''Baby I found a bakery that bakes croissants like hearts! Just like the ones we ate in Paris!''

You giggled and he beamed, rushing to the kitchen island.

''I got other stuff too look! Macarons, muffins, a new purse-''

You laughed, shaking your head. ''Jake you went to a bakery. Where the hell did you find a purse?''

He blinked, looking at the bag of pastries, then back at you. ''There was a shop nearby.''

''Jake I have too many.''

''You need another one for.. Your makeup.''

You blinked then shook your head. ''Jake you're-''

''Irresistible, I know'' he said before pecking your cheek.

Boy was this man in love.

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐍

Sunghoon was always sharp.

It had been something he had built after helping out with minor stuff at the company with his dad. So it truly was annoying for him when his mom bugged him with blind dates.

Daughters of high class people, art directors, models.

Somehow his gaze lingered on one page.

L/N Y/N.

''Y/N darling please- Slow down!''

You laughed, your cheeks flushed with a soft pink color, all smiley. ''Don't be such a sucker Mr. CEO.''

He caught your arm just in time, gaze softening, though he really - really tried to keep his voice stern. ''I'm never taking you out to drink again - or buying you any heels. Yeah no more of those heels.''

You giggled, burying your face in his neck. ''M'tired..''

He sighed, rubbing your back. ''Of course you are.''

He then kissed your temple, whispering ''Next time we're staying at home.''

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐎𝐎

''Are you trying to break up with me?'' Sunoo said, looking at you like you cursed out his entire bloodline.

You scoffed, hands on your hips. ''You're literally in the middle of planning a trip to Ibiza.''

''Exactly! Who breaks up before Ibiza?''

You walked over and flicked his forehead. ''Sunoo we just came back from Tokyo.''

He glared up at you, though the flush on his cheeks said something else. ''I just wanna spoil you..'' he murmured.

You laughed, grabbing his face and leaning down. ''And you do, just a bit too much.''

He pecked your lips, shaking his head. ''Never enough.''

𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐆 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐍

Jungwon was the dream boyfriend every girl wished for.

Sweet, rich and stupidly hot.

He would be dealing with million dollar deals before breakfast. But by dinner, he would be in an apron, humming in the kitchen.

''How was work?'' you asked.

He smiled, tossing the pan. ''It was fine.''

''Did you sign the merger?''

''Yep and..'' He then picked up a bottle. ''I got your favorite wine.''

You blinked. ''Jungwon we're talking about a international merger.''

He wiped his hands, handing you a plate. He then walked over and tucked a hair strand behind your ear ''The only thing that's international is my love for you.''

𝐍𝐈𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐔𝐑𝐀 𝐑𝐈𝐊𝐈

Everyone thought Riki was cold, cool and sometimes even a bit scary.

But you knew better.

''You look really handsome today. Even with a weirdly tied tie.''

The nape of his neck turned pink as he fumbled with the tie. ''Tch these things are impossible..''

You walked closer, putting a hand right over his heart. ''And you're cute when you get shy.''

He took a step back immediately, the tip of his ears red now, his voice was cracking. ''I'm not shy''

You laughed teasing him even more. ''Aw is Richy Riki shy?~''

His eyes widned with horror as he shook his head, all flustered. ''I've told you to not call me that!''

You grabbed him by his tie, pulling him closer so that you could feel your breaths mingling. ''Cute.''

''Y/N!''

lovliezᡣ𐭩: @chrrific @saemisic @heeaara @ltfirecracker @woniefication @lezleeferguson-120 @rikifever @chaeneu @jjennuine @callikari @yuuuraaa @wondoras @koiiqqqq @orimuraa

NETS: @k-films @blossomnet