#and he's working too so we barely see each other now

[theladycarpathia]

I've seen too much stuff about Clipboard Buck and Tommy lately to not write this.

His boyfriend on a power trip should not be hot. 

“See,” Chim mutters under his breath, leaning over the rail to watch Buck down below. “I warned you.”

“So you did,” Tommy agrees, keeping his true thoughts to himself. Buck has the clipboard clenched in one hand, pen in the other, and directs a reluctant Hen and Eddie as they perform checks on the ambulance and the ladder. 

“He’s a menace,” Chim continues, with feeling. “He’s a dictator!”

“Uh huh,” Tommy says, watching the furrow in Buck’s forehead as he makes another tick. He gestures furiously towards something in one of the ladder’s compartments and Eddie puts down the jaws to argue back. 

“We keep hiding the clipboards,” Chim says darkly. “I don’t know where he keeps finding them all.”

“Unfortunately for you, I think that’s something they sell at most major retailers,” Tommy quips and rests his arms on the railing. 

He’s worked under power-crazed maniacs. He was in the army, and then he had Captain Gerrard. His own father was one fully for his way or the highway. 

Buck being like this should not be hot. And yet all Tommy can think about is lying naked on the bed while Buck does things to him from a very meticulous and organized list. 

Eddie makes an obscene gesture behind Buck’s back and Tommy smirks. 

“And this is Buck on a regular Tuesday,” Chim says and pops his gum. “Wait until you see Buck in an emergency or organize an event. It’s a good thing you stopped by. You need to know these kinds of things about a person before you get serious.”

“I’m glad to see you too, Chim,” Tommy says, although stopping to chat to Chimney hadn’t been on his agenda for today. He and Buck have had conflicting shifts lately, and they’ve barely seen each other. Texts and a few brief phone calls have been all they’ve had to get them by and Tommy finally had enough of it. Bobby doesn’t mind Tommy swinging by the firehouse and seeing Buck if they’re not on a call. And today is apparently so quiet that Buck has time to do a thorough inspection of the vehicles. 

“Are you?” Chim asks suddenly, twisting towards Tommy with a surprisingly calculating look. “Getting serious?”

Tommy just shrugs. He knows the answer, he’s just not entirely willing to discuss it yet. But it’s been long enough now that they keep toothbrushes and few essentials at each other’s houses, that they have evenings where they sprawl together in front of the TV, just happy to be together. Tommy knows about his sister, the loss of Daniel, the myth of Abby and has even read Taylor Kelly’s book. 

Which he did in bed, reading several segments out loud, much to Buck’s horror and embarrassment. 

“You seem to be,” Chim comments, and down below Hen throws a roll of surgical tape at Buck. “Not that I’m complaining. We like you, Buck likes you, you flew us into a hurricane…”

“I like him too,” Tommy says, because honestly he’s been smitten since Buck came up with that stupid motto back in the helicopter. “Funny to think that Evan and I never met before as he only got to join the 118 because I left.”

“You got there in the end,” Chim says. “I mean this as nicely as possible but you leaving worked out great for me. If you hadn’t left, there wouldn’t have been a space to fill. If Buck hadn’t joined us…”

“Then you would never have met Maddie when she came to LA,” Tommy says, understanding instantly. Funny how something that simple has changed so many lives. He doesn’t regret moving to Harbor, even with the closeness that the 118 has now. He wouldn’t be who he is otherwise, without that space to accept himself. If he didn’t have that, maybe he wouldn’t be the person brave enough to kiss Buck. “I get it.”

“Although,” Chim continues, still watching Buck down below. “We wouldn’t have the Clipboard Dictator if you had stayed…”

“You love it really,” Tommy says, because he knows Chim loves Buck. But then Buck’s eyes swing upwards, towards the first floor and the two of them. 

“Oh shit,” Chimney hisses and then ducks below the railing. It doesn’t work because Buck just shouts “Chim, it’s glass! I can see you!”

“That wasn’t your best idea,” Tommy says and then offers Chimney a hand. “Come on. I’ll go down with you. Maybe I can make the tyrant a little bit sweeter.”

Chimney doesn’t look soothed by this. 

“Hello, Chimney,” Hen says pointedly, sitting on the back of the ambulance. “Nice to see you. How funny you happened to be hiding in the bathroom when Buck gets his clipboard out.”

“I wasn’t hiding,” Chimney mutters, eying Buck’s clipboard with apprehension. “Kinard, save me.”

“Evan,” Tommy says, snagging his boyfriend’s free wrist with one hand. “I came by to see you. Maybe we give the workforce a five minute break?”

Buck frowns down at his list. “I wanted to finish this before Bobby was done with his paperwork,” he says before looking suspiciously at his friends. “And if they leave, I don’t think they’ll come back.”

“Damn straight,” Eddie says under his breath. Hen just looks innocent, although Tommy is pretty sure they’re about to see three empty firefighter shaped spaces. 

“Just ten minutes,” Tommy cajoles, stroking the soft part of Buck’s wrist with his thumb. “I haven’t seen you all week.” He drops his voice down for the next part, hoping that Buck is as desperate to see him. “I’ll make it worth your while.”

Buck practically throws the clipboard at Eddie. 

“Taking a break!” he says cheerfully, half dragging Tommy behind the engine. “Be back in ten or I will hunt you down.”

“Will he do it with a chainsaw, I wonder?” Hen has time to ask (Tommy feels as though he should follow up on this later), before all three of them vanish. Tommy doesn’t see because he’s pressing his boyfriend up against the gleaming red of the engine and kissing the breath out of him. 

“What can we do in ten minutes?” Buck asks, eyes glittering, running his hands up and down Tommy’s chest. 

“Probably not a lot, as we’re in the open, in a firehouse, during your workday,” Tommy admits begrudgingly. A week is a very long time. Buck’s salacious texts and suggestive selfies haven’t been enough. “But we have time off in two days and I want to spend every second with you.”

“Good,” Buck says and the next few minutes pass very quickly. Buck tastes of coffee and he keeps both hands planted on Tommy’s rear - if he keeps squeezing like that, Tommy is going to have difficulty walking out of here. 

“I think we order takeout and movies and don’t leave the house for twenty-four hours,” Tommy suggests, just as Buck licks the shell of his ear. Fuck. This kid will be the death of him. 

“Fine by me,” Buck says and pulls him in for one last kiss. “But I really should get back to work. Call you when I’m off?”

There’s such obvious suggestion in his voice that want searches in Tommy’s gut almost instantly. He pushes it down and strokes Buck’s rather red jaw. 

“Can’t wait,” he says. “And Evan? Go easy on your friends.”

But the others are waiting for them, standing in a line by the stairs, obvious glee written all over their faces. Eddie is holding Buck’s clipboard and Tommy deftly removes it from his grasp. 

“Why, Mr Buckley,” Hen says, looking them up and down with a smirk. “That’s not a proper use of company time.”

“Ha ha,” Buck says mutinously, and with far more confidence than someone wearing a ridiculous amount of beard burn should have. “We have a lot to do. Where’s the…?”

Tommy hastily recaps the pen and hands it back to Buck, as though nothing is changed. He’d feel bad about it if it was an official document. But as it was Buck’s handwritten list of chores, he thinks the others might get some amusement out of it. 

He kisses Buck on the cheek and waves goodbye, quickly ducking out of the firehouse before Buck notices. 

“Who vandalized my list?” Buck shrieks indignantly and Tommy just skips all the way back to his truck.

[artssslut2]

Moving Along

Art Donaldson x Reader

Summary: You and art bought your first house together and some other big things happen.

You stood on one side of the unmade bed looking across at your boyfriend who was still half asleep trying to help you make the bed.

“Can we just stay in bed all day” Art pouted looking too cute with his bed head and blue eyes.

“Art we have so much to do still, we’ve done nothing all week” you laughed, you and Art had just bought your first home together. You had lived together for a while though, you two would always sleep in each other’s dorm rooms, then when Art graduated and you went into grad school you rented a small apartment together. But now you were both ready for something bigger. You had recently completed law school and we’re working a good corporate job, and Arts status was moving up very fast. It wasn’t a huge mansion by any means just a little two bedroom two bathroom house in California surrounded by palm trees and beautiful greenery. You would stay until you outgrew the cute little starter home. Both you and Art have had many conversations about the future, it was obvious your guys were endgame, you knew he was going to purpose soon, you both knew.

Later on Art was hanging up photos in the hallway leading to both bedrooms, his gym shorts hung low on his hips, you watched his back muscles move and contract, you were unpacking dishes in the kitchen. You walked over and wrapped your arms around his bare stomach and chest.

“I love our house” you said into his shoulder, he flipped in your arms so he could face you

“Me too baby, how do you pictures looks?” He asked then kissed your forehead

“They almost look as good as you do working on the house” you said flirting with your boyfriend he chuckled and playfully grabbed your ass.

“The second room will be such a good nursery don’t you think?” He asked you slightly smirking,

“A Nursery?” You questioned, you and art had talked about having kids many times, you both wanted a family and couldn’t wait to have kids, but you didn’t think that would happen for a while, definitely not until you were married.

“Mhm” he hummed “We can paint the walls and build a crib, fill the whole room with toys” he told you taking your hand and walking into the empty room, it was no secret that art really wanted a baby, he’d always stop you when you’d see a baby on the street, or see a cute outfit.

“Hm did you check with Patrick because I think he thinks it’s his room” you asked only half kidding

“He’ll be okay, maybe we can do bunk beds” he suggested

“So when are you planning on this baby happening then mister”

“Well soon, after we get Married, so after I purpose” he informed you confidently, you blushed

“So when’s that gonna happen Artie?” You titled your head giving him Attitude, Art laughed pulling you into him

“Nice try babe, can’t tell you that though” he started walking out “Soon though” he said throwing one hand in the air. You smiled to yourself thinking about the future. You were so content with your life right now you and Art were getting older making a reality of the plans you would make in Arts tiny dorm room.

You and Art unpacked and organized and decorated all day long and you were both exhausted and very happy with your new home and how it was coming together. Art insisted that you guys go to dinner to celebrate this step in your relationship. It didn’t take much convincing from him you loved going on dates with Art, the fire in your relationship never died every date had the same excitement the first date had. Art took you to a restaurant right by the ocean you two sat outside talking about all the things you normally talked about plus some new stuff regarding your house. You had no idea how Art was going to purpose, he definitely teased you and would kneel to tie his shoe but make it seem like he could be purposing. You tried to put the idea out of your head you knew it would happen you were just eager to spend the rest of your life with him.

When you got home from dinner it was still slightly light out the sun was setting and was almost all the way down creating a beautiful sunset. You went to the bathroom and Art went out to your patio. He turned on the string light he had hung earlier. It was an adorable little backyard big enough for some patio furniture a hammock and maybe a small play set later on. If Art was being honest he thought about purposing to you 24/7 he finally got his grandmas engagement back from the jewelers and was carrying it around for almost a week waiting for a good moment. You walked out to meet him on the patio, he stood behind you wrapping his strong arms around you, sitting in comfortable silence for a minute

“We can put a play set over there you know” Art hummed imagining a little version of you and him playing in their yard.

“Your doing all this baby talk, you know you gotta put a ring on it first Donaldson” you teased. Art knew this was his moment, he unwrapped his arm and grabbed the small box out of his pocket kneeing down. Before you could realize what he was doing you turned around to see why he let go of you. There he was on one knee holding a velvet box out with both hands.

“Then will you marry me?” He asked in a soft tone of voice looking at your like you were his everything. He didn’t say anything else, he didn’t need too. You were so surprised you immediately squealed and got down to his level, you didn’t even look at the ring because it didn’t matter you would say yes no matter what. You grabbed his face with both hands with tears welling in both yours and his eyes

“Yes, Yes, Yes of course” you practically screamed throwing yourself into his arms. He wrapped you in his arms and you both laughed. Then you kissed, not like you had ever kissed before. There was so much joy and passion in this kiss you saw fireworks. He pulled away from the hug and slid the ring on your finger. It fit perfectly and it was beautiful.

“It was my grandmothers” Art said as you wiped a tear from his Cheek your breath hitched in your throat and you smiled. You had known arts grandmother, she died about a year into your relationship. Art was heartbroken it was the first time you had seen him really upset, he was very close with her. Giving you this ring meant the world to him and you knew it. Tears fell down your face as you smiled pressing your forehead to his.

“It’s perfect” you whispered looking down at the ring, He looked at it too feeling how full is heart felt,

“I’ve been stealing your rings so that I could get it resized” he confessed, you laughed wholeheartedly

“I thought I lost those in the move I can’t believe you!” You laughed and so did he.

You realized the sun was fully set now and the lights were the only thing that let you see anything. It was beautiful.

You and your now fiancé sat on the patio lounge couch in each others arms, you were both quiet enjoying the beautiful night still in disbelief.

“You better call Patrick and tell him, you know he doesn’t like being left out” you laughed looking up at Art, he glanced at you smiling

“He’s already on his way with champagne” art admitted and you both laughed.

About ten minutes later you heard Patrick ringing the doorbell over and over again Art ran to the door and you followed

“HEYYYYYY” Patrick yelled nearly jumping into Arts arms. Him and Art laughed and hugged. Patrick loved you, when he first met you it was touch and go he was really protective of his best friend. But as he got to know you and you proved that you loved Art as much as he did he warmed up to you. It sort of felt like Patrick was you and Arts first son. You guys took care of him more than anyone else in his life ever did.

“Welcome to the family!” Patrick joked coming over to you pulling you in for a big bear hug still holding two bottles of champagne. Art smiled watching his two favorite people get along so well. Patrick was overjoyed for you both, he knew how much Art loved you and how long he waited for this.

“My little guy finally grew the balls to ask you to marry him I can’t believe it!” He said ruffling Arts shaggy blonde hair. “Now lemme see old Lilian’s ring” he exclaimed. Patrick was also close with Arts Grandmother, even though she thought he was a bad influence on her “little Arthur” she was the only one who called him Arthur, it always made you chuckle hearing it.

You Art and Patrick sat in your half set up living room drinking champagne from the bottle

“Pat, how are things going with you and y/f/n” you asked Patrick, a few months ago you had introduced Patrick and your friend. You had noticed how alike they were, both party animals who were stubborn but very sweet deep down. Patrick would never admit it but he was ready to settle down, he didn’t want ten girls anymore he wanted one. He was ready for something special, like you and Art had.

“Uhh… good” Patrick blushed trying to hide his growing smile,

“Yeah?” Art smiled, not used to seeing his friend like this,

“Yeah. Great actually. Things are great” Patrick smiled shyly. This was the most he’s said about her. You guys knew him though, he was in love, maybe for the first time.

The rest of the night the three of you drank champagne and talked for hours before Patrick left. Then of course you and Art celebrated alone.

[waterdeep-weavemoss]

Tease

Just Gale being a total freak. Gale x F!Tav, blood, spice, etc.

@netherese0rb @boufsy @owlseeyoulaterpal @lanafofana

@auroraesmeraldarose @aryancunin @amorgansgal

'I wanna see your animal side, let it all out, I wanna see the dirt under your skin, I need your broken promises.' - Death Valley, Fall Out Boy

Tav stood in the middle of the ruined landscape, taking heaving gulps of air. The shadows that had attacked them had disappeared in bursts of sickly green and they pressed on to the muted moonglow in the distance. One of the beseiged harpers had pointed it out, snapping that they should run for it if she perished. Tav led the group, barely thinking as they made their presence known and chose a camping spot away from the inn. Why they were not permitted to be inside she didn’t know, though she had an inkling there was little room for them.

The darkness had the unfortunate affect of making the air feel like a winter’s night; she shivered even as she built up a sweat helping everyone with their shelters. Gale appeared distracted- not unlike him, certainly, though he seemed a little more intense than usual.

‘Cold, Tav?’ said Karlach good naturedly as they passed each other. She carried a stack of dead wood under each arm. ‘We’ll have a fire going soon as. Where’s our rogue got to?’

‘Hunting, most like,’ said Halsin, bumping shoulders with Tav and almost sending her sprawling. ‘Oops! Sorry.’ He steadied her with a hand on her shoulder. ‘Silvanus knows what he’d eat out here, though.’ His eyes glittered impishly. ‘Unless you’ve been feeding him of course.’

‘Oh, behave,’ said Tav, blushing. ‘That was once.’

‘And where did Gale go?’

‘Huh?’ Tav scanned the campsite. Though his tent was set up, the wizard was nowhere to be seen. ‘I saw him a minute ago. He’s probably getting supplies for dinner?’ She sighed. ‘I’ll take a look. But there better be a fire going when I come back, it’s freezing.’

‘Relax,’ said Shadowheart, rolling her eyes. ‘I don’t know why you’re all so whiny. I feel fine.’

‘You would,’ shot Wyll. ‘This is Shar’s work, after all.’

‘Okay,’ said Tav. ‘I’ll leave you to your sniping. I’ll find the wizard. We’ll starve without him.’

‘Hey, I can cook,’ said Wyll, pouting a little as Tav turned her back and trudged off into the dark.

‘Gale?’ she called. ‘Everyone’s looking for you!’ He can’t have gone far. She misty stepped, walked a little further, scanning. ‘Gale!’ She was well away from camp now, clear on the other side of the lake.

‘Always one for walking into trouble, aren’t you?’ said a voice in her ear.

‘Gale? What the fuck?’ Her head whipped to the side, heartbeat picking up. ‘Why are you invisible?’ Stupid wizard.

‘I don’t want a search party looking for me,’ he said. His breath was hot on her ear. ‘Just you.’

‘Why?’ she asked, drawing the word out. ‘We need you back at camp, and-’

‘I wanted us to be alone.’

The cogs were turning in Tav’s head. ‘Hang on,’ she said slowly. ‘Is this about- about-’

‘Oh Tav, don’t play coy,’ he crooned. ‘I know you find this all as thrilling as I do. Now I admit,’ he said, sounding a little more like himself, ‘that I got a little tongue-tied. A little flustered. But now I think I can say what I want to say, knowing nobody but the one intended will hear it. But,’ he said, ‘perhaps it can wait. You’re so cold. We can’t have that…’

‘Turn visible, coward,’ said Tav, giggling. Gooseprickles rose on the back of her neck.

A snap and he was there in front of her, robes looking much the worse for wear, his face spattered with blood. ‘Dear me,’ he said. ‘You’re practically covered in blood and guts. Time for a bath?’ He tilted his head, smirked. His eyes were blazing.

‘You are too,’ she said boldly, gesturing. ‘Arterial, by the look of it. That’ll really mess up your hair if you’re not careful.’

Gale lunged forward, grabbing her face and smashing their lips together in a mess of tongue and teeth. She tasted blood and sweat on his lips, metal and salt. Groaning into her mouth he pulled at a slash in her robes and rended the fabric even further, mouth falling to the exposed skin of her shoulder to suck a bruise into her flesh. Her breathing stuttered and he hummed against her skin, dragging his teeth a little to pull a whimper from her. ‘Hnnngh, more of that,’ he said, kissing her mouth again.

‘What’s gotten into you?’ she gasped when he pulled away again to mark her neck. ‘I thought you couldn’t-’ she hissed as he dug his fingers into her thighs and growled.

‘As if that will stop me,’ he said darkly. ‘Not when you’re so fucking tempting-’

‘Gale, it’s not safe-’ She was between his teeth, latched onto the tender skin between neck and shoulder as he ground his hips against her. He applied sharp pressure in response and she yelped, half in pain, half surprise. He kissed the bite tenderly, pressed another kiss to the corner of her mouth.

‘I love seeing you covered in blood,’ he rasped. ‘Not that I want to see you hurt, but…’ he panted into her ear. ‘Fuck I love seeing you filthy.’

Tav could hardly breathe. This was not a side of him she’d ever anticipated. ‘You said we couldn’t-’

He laughed, a dark little growl. ‘We can’t. But I couldn’t resist giving you a little taste of what’s to come…’ he snapped his fingers and was gone, leaving her burning and frustrated in the dark.

[pinkcherryblossomphonecase]

A unwanted reminder

(TW: Unhealthy relationships, SA, not getting over abuse. Please do skip this one if you feel uncomfortable.)

(The people I tag so thay can hate me more for making Cooper suffer once again: @tatsuhikoshibusawa @oscarsgallery @lets-play-a-game @soonyouwillgo )

A hotel room. I should be able to stay in here for a while, while Master and Sigma spend time together for a few days. They wanted me out of the house, which I don't mind. But where I'm staying for the time I do mind. Something about this hotel room sends me chills.

I can't remember the exact last time I was in one. Expect for who I was with. Him.

Of course it was him I was with.

It always was.

It became a routine, one that has been perfected. Master- X would always take me to his important business trips and meetings. I was just a little doll for show after all, a butler to do minor work for him during these trips. Not that I minded, it was same old boring work that I would do in the manor. Except in a hotel room....

Snap out of it, Cooper. He's dead now. You finally killed him and became free from his control and bond. X is forever gone, so stop thinking about him.

Just stop thinking about him..... yet the memories are still there to haunt me. Plaguing my mind as I stepped into the hotel room.

I take a shaky breath as I step in and took off my shoes. Being here alone feels so odd. It doesn't feel right, like I need someone with me. Why? Is it because I'm alone for once? On my own with no one to keep my company?

Perhaps it's the memories again that remind me of the unfortunate times I had in any hotel room that I can remember. Ones I cannot forget no matter how hard I try to. Being there will always be something there to remind me.

I look around the room, taking it all in. It's a fancy little hotel room, having all your standard stuff you would expect and one bed for me to rest on. The lightning is warm and inviting, but that welcoming feeling is killed when I turned towards the bathroom.

The dark room gave off a eery mist and even when I turned on the light, it barely gave the room any comfort. That's when I wish left the lights off when my eyes fall upon a hanging white robe for me to us.

My breathing hitched once I saw it, and my hand gripped the door handle. Those unwanted memories started to return when I wanted to start crying. No, why must they return now? Those are a thing of a past. I don't have to remember. I don't have to.

But I can still hear his voice. I can still picture the day we came back exhausted and tired from work. His soft voice mumbled to me, "Cooper let's take a bath together." And so we did that day. The warm water soothing us both. My head resting against his chest. Us washing each other. Him just touching me in all the wrong places.....

Even to this day, I can't take a bath on my own without forgetting about how it all felt to be touched like that by him. I can't wear white robes anymore because a feeling of dread stirs up in my gut every time I see one. Every time I did wear one was for X.... and even those memories still play on repeat when I'm alone for too long.

The white robe before me I wish to rip it and burn it away from my sight. Too many times I had to wear one for him. Too many times I felt good in bed with him. Too many times I sung out his name. I hate it.

I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I hate it. I HATE IT!

I hate this. I don't like this. I want to get rid of these memories, even if it means if I have to bash my head against the wall. I don't want to be reminded anymore. I want to finally move on and live without the remainder of how disgusting I was. How I felt disgusted every time.

Yet that robe taunts me. The whiteness of it reminding me that I will never be pure again. It's mocking me, shaming me for something that I did not want. For something that wasn't in my choice or control.

It taunts me that I'll be stuck back in the same old lifestyle one day. Maybe that's why I hate it the most. It's like if I put it on I'll be back to my old roots.....

It feels unfair though.... by now I'm supposed to be free. He's gone now, he won't ever bother me again. I'm free from him physically, yet never free from him in my memories....

As long as I see a white robe, I'll always still be chained to those memories....

[thedeviltohisangel]

”you’re mine” with brat tamer john and brat! Cass?

DROP TO MY KNEES BLURB PROMPT ERA

the official welcome of cheese egan? also a little bit of married with kids when do we have time for each other angst because they can't be perfect all the time as much as we want them to be. also HANDYMAN JOHN. that is all.

John sighed deeply as the door to his shed closed behind him, his back pressed against the wood. "We made it," he whispered to the little cat that was looking up at him for acknowledgement. As soon as Cheese confirmed John knew he was there too, he pranced off to the windowsill by his worktable and curled up happily.

The evening in the Egan household had felt like it came from hell. The twins had been arguing about something that had happened during recess ever since Joan had picked them up from school. Lillian had been ornery the minute John walked in the door before Cass, the four-year-old not in the mood for her father in the slightest. And then there was the matter of Imogene. She had decided that her father was the only thing she wanted.

His wife had gotten home late. So late that the kids were already in bed. So late that John had been drooping against the couch cushions in an attempt to stay awake to see her. But she had been in no mood to see him apparently. Barely acknowledged him as she walked towards the kitchen with Butter trailing after her gleefully.

"How was work, baby?" he asked as he followed her, scratching at his stomach and stretching in a yawn. Her fingers were behind Butter's ears and he was looking at John like he knew the man hadn't gotten a kiss yet.

"Fine. Long." Her nose scrunched at the options in the fridge so she settled on an apple on the counter for dinner instead. "Babies asleep?"

"Should be. They were little terrors tonight." Cass hummed around her apple and reached to grab a dog treat from the cabinet. "I didn't know you were going to be so far behind tonight. Could have had Mary call."

"I'm not doing this right now. I'm going to bed," she offered with a roll of her eyes.

"You didn't even kiss me hello," he muttered as Cheese hopped onto the counter next to him. He used the height to look down at Butter with an assessing swish of his tail.

"Maybe I'm just not in the mood tonight, John," she snapped as she moved to head up the stairs.

"Jesus, Cass, that's not-" But her and Butter were already disappearing down the hall and out of his view.

His shed was where he went to tinker. Fix the kid's toys if they played too rough. Fix Gale's glasses when they got ruined at baseball practice. Mend Cass' jewelry if it got tangled or snapped with a tug from the babies or even when John got too rough some nights. It was also where he had found Cheese. His little orange ball of fluff of a best friend. Cheese was quiet and contemplative and looked at John like he knew what he was thinking. The kids loved him too. Penelope had made a fishing pole toy for him during art class that they spent hours fiddling with in the living room. Butter and Cheese had a general respect and didn't fight. But they knew they each cherished different parents.

"Are you coming to bed tonight?" He didn't look over his shoulder as the door opened and his wife spoke. "It's so annoying when you come and hide out here like this."

"Thought you weren't in the mood tonight." He still wasn't looking at her. She huffed and stomped over to where he sat, peeking over his shoulder. He had thin pliers in his hand working on the broken clasp of her bracelet the twins had picked out for Mother's Day last year. It had snapped when Cass had built a pillow fort with them and it caught in their wrestling match. A bit of her anger subsided at the softness of his heart.

"I'm not." Her aloof tone remained. "Cheese, have sweet dreams." She turned to go but his hand wrapped around her wrist. He stood and she craned her neck to look up at him. Sometimes she forgot how imposing her husband could be when he chose to use his size as a weapon.

"Brats don't get to come and go as they please." She bit her lip. "Cassandra Ann...Cassandra Ann...what's your surname again?" He moved forward and she moved back until she hit the door of his shed.

"Egan," she breathed.

"And who gave you that name?"

"You did." Her eyes were molten as his attention broke her foul mood. When would she learn to never push him away?

"Because you're mine. All mine. And you haven't shown how thankful you are for that tonight."

"Please, Colonel, let me apologize." The palm of his hand landed on her shoulder and pushed until her knees were on the floor. She let her smirk flash for just a second.

Easy as Sunday morning.

[mrsackermannx]

lies | ino takuma

tags: angry (argument) sex, intruder role play, unprotected sex, sorcerer ino/non-sorcerer girlfriend, degradation kink, soft ending, not beta read.

authors note: @p00pdev1l jazz i meant to send this to you on asks and then it got super long but i swoon at the thought of being ino’s non- sorcerer gf idk there’s something about it didbdksjsksj. ive not uploaded any writing for so long bc there’s sm different ways and things i want to write and idk how to start idk…this lowkey is it i suppose. i miss writing hehe been so busy but yeh ENJOY MY DEPRAVITY.

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You love your life with Ino, and he loves his life with you. No matter what a curse throws at him, he knows as soon as he sees you at the end of the day that it’ll all be worth it.

But it’s one night that he comes home especially roughed up…

You’re watching TV, but you hear him shuffling into your apartment, carefully locking up behind him, taking off his shoes. “Hello pretty girl,” he murmurs, voice almost hoarse. He leans over you to kiss your forehead. “I'm off to bed, you should too…”

You’re tired of the whispering phone calls, the leaving you to run away god knows where in the middle of dinner, you’re sick of not being able to tell your friends what Ino does exactly?

All these lies, all this mystery. You call him out on it and it leads to a fight…

It’s your sharp, “I’ve been waiting up for you,” that hits him right in the gut.

“Baby, I tell you not to.”

“Tell me?”

“i meant ask, baby,” his voice lowers, almost breaking from exhaustion. He's so close to snapping. Too close.“I mean ask—so-please, not now.”

His usually sunny demeanour is all gone. He’s working so hard for the recognition of so many people, you being one of them. He wants to be good enough, he wants to exorcise as many curses as he can. He has his own goals, his own vision of the future he wants you in. But he’s so fucking exhausted right now.

He’s not usually like this, he’s usually so reactive it’s almost unbearable. So you push and push.

“I don't even know what you do. What kind of guy are you? Who have I been dating-“

“What. What did you just say?”

You blink twice.

He’s never raised his voice at you like this before. It’s not that it scares you but it ignites something in you, stroking something dark and shameful.

He cages you against the wall, glaring at you. He smells like Ino, looks like Ino, caramel hair tousled and tucked behind each ear. As usual, so devastatingly, boyishly handsome, but his energy is sharper, his grin gone.

“Telling me you don’t know who I am? Huh? Then why the fuck do you let me inside you every night when I come home? If I’m so bad? If I’m this bad guy you don’t know? You let a stranger touch you? Huh?”

“Takuma-“

He gives you such a pointed stare your words escape you. One arm cages you below him whilst the other cups your chin. “You think I’m some kind of bad guy? Don’t you know me by now? Haven’t we been through enough?”

This is necessary communication, he knows it, you know it. But that doesn’t stop the suffocating tension crackling between you two any less bearable.

“I know you’re a good guy, in how you treat me, who you are, but I have no idea who you are sometimes and it’s— it’s, something that i-i…”

You’re getting choked up, but you’re also overheating. Ino is never like this, never so the opposite of himself, never so full of darkness and not his light.

But you guessed it was a good thing you weren’t afraid of the dark, or the man you loved so dearly in front of you.

“What?”

“-it scares me,” you blurt.

“But you like being scared.”

His voice is rough, teetering on the line between restraint and pure lust. He's neither asking nor stating.

“You like it when I come home in the dead of night.” He cups your pussy, your silk nightdress bunching against his palm, he clicks his tongue at the heat. “Sneaking in beside you, you practically baring your pussy for me to use, abuse and—fuck, until you’re begging for more, and more-“

“Takuma,” you whimper into his chest, he smells so like him, he strokes through your hair like he always does, so full of love. He’s holding your most intimate part of you like he owns you, you suppose he does. You suppose you’ve been in the palm of his hand from the moment you met him.

“Not so innocent then are you? When you’re taking my cock in your cunt in the middle of the night? Begging for it, begging for me to wreck this tight little-“

“Takuma! Please.”

He alternates pressure on your clit, over and over, feeling your drip down his fingers.

“I bet you’d like my mask too? Wouldn’t you?”

His hand wraps around your throat, contrasting the way his thumb was smoothing across your jaw. You always felt so special with Ino, like his lover, regardless of whether you were fighting.

“What mask?” Your voice was so shaky you barely recognised it. His hand mapped down his torso to his pocket. Then he slipped on a black mask with nothing but holes for his eyes. “So, this? This is who you are?”

He hated this. He hated you thinking he was some bad guy, some good for nothing criminal.

“Who do you want me to be?” he edged closer, his voice slow and dripping with something dangerous, something that made your pupils dilate, and your pulse run.

“How about tonight I be the bad guy you want me to be,” he drawled. His hands skimmed up and down your sides, admiring…staking their claim on what was beneath them.

“Take me, Takuma.”

A small smile tugged at his lips.

“Fuck you?” he shoved his knee between your thighs, “Or take you?” He squeezed your neck until you moaned, “You and your control? Your body? Your soul.”

“Both.”

It was a blur before you processed that Ino had you flipped against the wall. That he was already brushing your entrance with his cock and then teasing you against it. The head of him almost slipped in, over and over. But he had you flailing and whimpering like a desperate mess instead.

“Shush now, pretty girl. I don’t care if your boyfriend comes home. I’m using this cunt as my own anyway.”

“Oh my—fuck.”

That was it. Your control, your pain, you let it all go. You let it free, you let the wild throbbing in your core take over. You would have fallen to the floor without the wall and Ino standing firm behind you. You gave into your sinful desires.

He trailed his hands down your body, then in a movement so unexpected you cried out as he tore apart your night dress. “Let's hope your boyfriend doesn’t come home to you getting fucked like this, angel.”

He thrusts into you in one brutal slam. “Fuck I love ruining good girls like you,” he sounded so undone that it had you close to breaking, moaning with every slam into your pussy.

“Your cunts are made to be broken into like this, waiting for every drop of cum, squeezing me so tight like that. Fluttering on cock that you’ve been craving so badly, you—pretty —little—slut.”

It’s a primal fucking, and Ino seems to take everything out on you, but you submit so easily you’re succumbing to pleasure you’ve never felt. The things he says are dark and twisted, but the way he holds you is anything but, he holds you like you’re precious, even if he calls you his slut, to him you’re his angel.

When you start to match his rhythm, bucking out your hips to take in more of him, he comes so powerfully you feel his tears slide your back. Panting and groaning out your name, “I love you,” his voice shakes, and he’s breathless as he locks you in his arms.

“You’re so precious to me. More than my own life. More than any goal. I’ll tell you anything, and everything.”

You’re overcome, reeling from your orgasm, but nevertheless you accept his embrace just as tight. “I love you, Takuma.”

“I love you,” he chants, for a while. Until you’re sleeping, bodies coiled together, his hand in your hair. And it feels good. Too good to have finally told you everything.

[rems-writing]

Brutal? Nah. Just caring. In an aggressive way

Trope: Sekhmet!Jongho x MoonKnight!reader

Context: Sekhmet is the Egyptian goddess of war, fire, and healing. She is known for her bloodlust and many people have suffered from her wrath and aggression. She was known as a symbol of great power and authority.

@newworldnet

@blossomnet

Thank you to @ja3hwa and @acupoftaewithsomesuga for helping me deliberate on which god goes with which member

Includes: a lot of mentions about blood, platonic!Jongho, and gn!reader

To clear up any confusion, Jongho will be referred as he/him/his whenever no one is speaking. Only the reader (mainly), Moon Knight, and Khonshu will refer to Jongho as she/her whenever they mention Sekhmet's name. After all, I want to stay as truly accurate as much as possible despite this being a work of fiction

ENJOY :D

You just wanted to relax with your twin brother. You and Marc were finally able to live freely after having to deal with Arthur Harrow and Ammit, the crocodile goddess that judged people unfairly and sent them to an early death despite barely starting their lives and having yet to commit any crimes. The scales she used determined those poor souls' fates early on.

Good thing you two were able to stop her before anything disastrous occurred.

As you two were chilling in Steven's (with a V) flat in London, you got up to put your empty mug in the sink. You looked up briefly at jumped at the sight of Khonshu looming over you in the reflection of the window. You scowled and turned around to look up at him.

"The fuck do you want now, you old bird?" You deadpanned. Khonshu was the Egyptian god of the moon and justice. He should be standing tall, way too proud, and definitely way too cocky.

So why on earth was he standing there, trembling like a leaf?

As he weakly clutched his staff, he looked towards Marc, who was also deadpanning at him. The god laughed nervously and spoke in that annoyingly godly voice of his.

"Y/N. Marc. Can't an old god just visit his former avatars for the sake of it?"

You and Marc exchanged a look briefly looking back up at the god.

"You honestly think we'll believe you when you claim to visit out of friendship and kindness? Ever since we decided to no longer be your avatars, you have successfully fucked off from our lives. Why come back to us now?"

Khonshu sighed and set his staff down on the floor before looking at the both of you.

"You know that I would never come back to you since I respected your decision to back out. A deal is a deal after all. However, there is a reason as to why I came back to you."

"This better be good, you old bird."

The familiar British accent spoke and you turned, seeing how Steven had fronted. You guessed Marc didn't want to deal with Khonshu.

And you couldn't blame him.

Khonshu sighed wearily as he found an empty chair and sat in it. It was weird seeing a god sit down yet here he was.

"There's been a string of attacks lately. Massive amounts of bloodshed everywhere. And it has been committed by one person and one person only. I don't know the gender of this person, but... I recall seeing the outline of a lioness's head glowing brightly as the person's fists are dripping with blood. I figured it would be the avatar of another god or goddess so I tried to stop them myself. However, I have failed..."

A loud gasp escaped your mouth as you saw Khonshu open his robe slightly to reveal that his side had been pierced. Remnants of ichor (the golden blood of any mythological god or goddess) were stained on his clothes but for the most part, he patched up the wound well.

As far as you and your brother know, avatars, including Harrow himself, never made a god bleed. Only other gods and goddesses can make each other bleed.

"Wait a minute... you're saying an average human being made you bleed?"

Steven was puzzled as well. He observed the wound and was slightly worried for the moon god. Despite their differences, this situation was worrying.

"I couldn't believe it as well! However, this is evidence." Khonshu said solemnly.

"Well... this is new. Not only is Khonshu, the ever so cocky god, afraid for his life, but he got hurt in the process."

"You don't think Ammit is back right?"

"No no. She's gone. This must be the work of someone else."

As you and Steven racked your brains together, you looked back at Khonshu and felt bad for him. Just a little bit.

"Hold on... Khonshu, didn't you say you saw the outline of a lioness head?"

The god nodded slowly.

"You see, while Ammit was technically part lion, she only had the hindquarters of a lion. None of the other gods and goddesses from the Ennead have some type of physical form of a lion or lioness, whether it would be a partial form or an entire form."

You could never get tired of Steven's brain and his endless knowledge of Egyptian mythology. As you listened carefully, you wrote down some notes.

"This means that this person you saw? If they were able to make you bleed, that means they are simply in a human disguise, not using a random human as their avatar. My question is now... who is this god or goddess in disguise? As I said before, I know for a fact it is no one from the Ennead."

"None of the past avatars had outlines of god or goddess heads before. I feel like we're dealing with an older deity. Thing is... I don't know who."

"You're absolutely right, love."

You grinned sheepishly to yourself as Steven complimented you. You knew Steven liked you, but you politely shut him down and he took the rejection well.

One, your brother wouldn't approve since Steven already kissed his wife and he definitely didn't want him to be around you.

Two, you already have a boyfriend. His name is Song Mingi.

As you continued your research, Steven gasped. Both in excitement and horror.

"I think I know exactly who attacked you, Khonshu."

"I have a feeling as well but please tell me I'm wrong..."

Steven sadly shook his head as he pointed to an unfamiliar yet familiar picture of an old deity.

This deity had the body of a woman and her hands carried a staff and an ankh. As your eyes trailed upwards, they widened.

Now you see why both Steven and Khonshu were afraid and were on the same page.

"No... it's not possible! I thought she was done with slaughtering humanity!" You exclaimed.

"I thought so too. But somehow, she has come back." Khonshu said sadly. "Now you understand why I came to you. You two are the only ones strong enough to take her down. If you can do me this favor, I will leave you alone for the rest of eternity."

Instead of Steven fronting, it was Marc this time.

"Well then... time to face the almighty goddess of war. Sekhmet."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Once more, you two were in the ceremonial suits that Khonshu had provided you when he first saved you. You surveyed the city from below while Marc and Steven surveyed from above. You were on the lookout for anyone that had the outline of a lioness head glowing brightly. As Khonshu said, the gender of the person that Sekhmet chose was unknown so for you and Marc, it could be anyone! As you observed some more, your phone vibrated in your pocket, indicating that Mingi sent you a message. You decided to open it and see what he sent you. Your heart melted at the message.

Mingi: Hey. I hope you and Marc are doing well. I know facing an old goddess isn't easy, especially when you never really wanted to be that moon god's avatar anymore. However, this is important from what you told me over the call earlier. If this Sekhmet woman is on the loose, then you have to be extremely careful. I know you can handle yourself, but a goddess of war? That's definitely new. Stay safe. Remember. I love you always.

You called Mingi and told him that you were taking up the mantle of Khonshu's fist once more since Sekhmet was out and about killing people. Mingi disagreed at first but once you gave him the lowdown of what was happening, he reluctantly let you be.

After all, if a god can bleed, that truly meant no one is safe.

After sending a quick message back to Mingi, you put your phone away. Just in time as well since Marc told you over comms that he saw a suspicious silhouette enter an empty alleyway. You nodded and slinked into the shadows to follow the path until you reached the alleyway. You and Marc met up and you looked around the alleyway to see where this person had gone. You were baffled.

"Little sis. I swear I saw someone enter here." Marc claimed. You were about to say something when you saw a hand shoot out from the shadows.

"MARC, LOOK OUT!"

Too late. When Marc turned around, that hand grabbed your brother's neck and squeezed tightly. You got out your weapon and pointed it at the person that was lurking in the shadows.

"Show yourself! Before I show you the proper way to make a god bleed."

A dark chuckle echoed in the shadows as the person stepped out. You faltered for a moment before regaining your focus on Sekhmet's human disguise.

She picked a rather good one to say the least.

The man was dressed in black from head to toe and the suit clung to his burly body well. Bright orange eyes faded into a piercing dark brown and his jaw stayed clenched in both anticipation and aggression. Light brown hair was parted down the middle and styled in a way that made one side longer than the other. Almost like side swept bangs. The hand that was choking Marc was stained with blood.

"You dare defy a goddess such as I? You truly must be mistaken... Spector."

His voice was soft yet held such malice and venom. As he squinted his eyes at you, he stepped closer. You adjusted your weapon's position so it was pointed at his heart.

"Don't come any closer, Sekhmet. Let my brother go now."

"Why bother with my official name? You can simply call me... Jongho."

You narrowed your eyes at this Jongho man suspiciously. You never wavered as he stepped even closer. He was almost nose to nose with you yet he kept his distance.

"Fine. Answer me this then, Jongho. Why are you out here killing people left and right? Did you grow bored of living that mundane life with your husband and son? Yeah I know my history. Not all humans are dumb."

Jongho chuckled and finally let your brother go. He was gasping for air harshly and went beside you for better protection.

"Careful, sis. His hand strength is no joke. I thought my windpipe was going to get crushed!" He coughed and wheezed while Jongho rolled his eyes.

"You humans are so weak. You should be lucky that I let you go, other Spector." He growled and you swear the growl of a lioness as he spoke.

"As for you, I'll agree to disagree. Now that you've seen what I look like and what I can do, it's best that you stay out of my way. I want nothing to do with you nor the young god that occupies himself with the moon and his own silly version of justice."

You shook your head and pressed the tip of your sword to Jongho's heart a little bit harder.

"Oh we definitely will stay out of your way. No one could ever defeat a powerful goddess such as you. However, since you happen to be taking random human lives like back then, your presence, along with the bloodbath that trails behind you, has made you our concern. So while I'm being nice, you better tell us why you started killing humanity again."

What Marc, Steven, Khonshu, and Mingi admired about you most was your ability to stay calm, courteous, and polite even when faced with a deadly goddess. Despite the weapon raised at him, Jongho admired your professional bravery.

You definitely weren't afraid of death.

Jongho sighed lightly and raised his bloodied hands in surrender. Marc's eyes widened with surprise, Steven must've been cheering you on from the sidelines, and from a distance, Khonshu was relieved and shocked when he saw the deity surrender to you.

"I know that blade you carry can definitely hurt a god or goddess. Plus, your tone is rather respectful for someone who is a vigilante and has their weapon raised at me. For that, I will allow cooperation. I ask that you do not kill me."

"Even if I was allowed to, I can't. Your death would mean that humanity has free reign to do whatever they want without consequence. Ra, your father, created you for a reason. Even though you are mainly neutral, we need someone like you to keep that balance in check. So I won't kill you. However, I will hurt you if you step out of line."

A faint smile appeared on Jongho's face and you somewhat found his gummy smile adorable.

For a deadly goddess, she sure picked a cute looking man to disguise herself in.

"You truly are something else, Spector. Allow me to formally apologize for the bloodshed that has occurred as I continue to walk this Earth. As I said, I will allow cooperation. There is a reason why I have resorted to my ancient killing sprees."

You nodded, indicating that you, along with Marc, are listening to the ancient goddess. Jongho sighed and put his hands down. The anger and aggression that was once in his eyes turned into sadness, despair, and worry.

"Contrary to what you might think, I have not grown tired of the family life that I've established with my husband and son. I am happy to be a mother. In fact, I live on this very Earth with them. To humanity, we are two men that have adopted a beautiful young boy. I was out one day doing a bit of grocery shopping when I got a call from my husband. I figured that it would just be a regular phone call. But..."

Jongho's face darkened as he continued to speak.

"I heard cries for help. Both from him and my son. A grimy voice had ahold of my husband's cellular device and said something about delivering money in exchange for their lives. How greedy must humans be to kidnap innocent people just for green pieces of paper that hold value?! It makes me sick!"

As Jongho said that, he punched the brick wall behind him. A giant hole was left in the wall and he sighed in frustration as he shook his bloodied hand to get rid of any remnants left on his knuckles.

You swear you heard Khonshu whimper in fear from a distance.

You were going to tease him later about that.

"I understand now. You were trying to track down the people that kidnapped your family. When they gave you nothing or refused to answer, that's when you decided to kill them."

"You do?"

The goddess's manly voice was twinged with softness and care. You smiled to yourself on how motherhood had changed her throughout all this time.

"I'm not a mother myself, but I understand how important it is to protect your family. If you allow me, I will help you in making sure you guys are reunited safe and sound."

Jongho smiled once more and reached out to hug you. You were thrown way the fuck off as he hugged you so gently. Marc looked away and whistled awkwardly. When the beefy man let you go, he looked down at you.

"Thank you. I will let you know any details that might help."

"Sounds great."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"So now we're going to save her family? Or his... I don't bloody know any more!"

Steven was trying to wrap his mind around the turn of events as the five of you drove down an empty street. You were currently on your way to the location where the goddess's family was being held hostage. Jongho chuckled at Steven's confusion.

"Young man, you may wish to address in any way possible. I have learned how to adapt to these changes. For example, in my human disguise, my pronouns are he/him. In my original goddess form, my pronouns are she/they. It is the year 2024. I may be an old goddess, but I keep up with the times."

The thought of an ancient goddess using pronouns made you smile. Times have definitely changed.

As you approached the location, which was just an abandoned warehouse, you turned around and laid down the plan to all of them. Marc and Steven agreed, Khonshu had some stupid questions, and Jongho simply nodded patiently. Once everyone had their weapons and powers set, you all exited the car and made your way inside the warehouse.

It was showtime.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

This was probably the easiest mission you and Marc have ever done in your entire life, especially with Sekhmet by your side.

Sekhmet dropped her human disguise and fought off the henchmen as herself, leaving you to be in awe at the way that she moves as she fights.

Khonshu swore he fell in love with Sekhmet. Another thing to add to the list of things to tease the moon god about.

Finally, you approached the mastermind behind this stupid kidnapping. You grew tired of his monologue so you sent Sekhmet, disguised as Jongho once more, to go in and snap his neck, to which he did easily.

After he dropped dead, you sent Marc and Khonshu to do a final sweep of the warehouse while you went with Jongho into the dark room that his family was in. Jongho held up a small flame in his hand and rose it to the air. The flame lifted from his palm and turned into a ball of light so the dark room finally lit up. He saw his family cowering in the corner and walked to them slowly.

"Hi, honey. I'm here."

Jongho's husband and son threw themselves into his arms and they cried tears of joy as they were reunited with him. Your heart swelled with adoration at the sight unfolding in front of you. The son must've noticed your presence since he saw you and hid away shyly. Jongho chuckled and patted his head.

"Come, little one. Say hi. This is Y/N Spector, one of Khonshu's old Moon Knights."

You waved politely while the child said hello quickly and quietly. Jongho's husband lifted his head and walked over to you before grabbing your hand and shaking it.

"Hello. My name is Ptah. I am the Egyptian god of creation. However, on this Earth, you may call me Yeosang."

The history books weren't lying when they said that Ptah was handsome.

Ptah's human disguise as Yeosang was utterly breathtaking.

Short wavy black hair, a statue-like face, a lean body with a bit of muscle, and a unique birthmark that was depicted as a pink splotch near the corner of his right eye.

"The child that is currently hiding behind my wife, or husband I should say, is Nefertum. His human name is Youngjae."

"It's nice to meet you both. Now come along. Let's take you guys home. Marc and Khonshu finished sweeping the area. It's clear."

The three of them nodded and followed you out of the warehouse.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When you guys arrived at Jongho's flat, you told Marc and Khonshu to stay in the car while you went up with the family to make sure they were safe. While Yeosang and Youngjae went inside the bathroom to get cleaned up, Jongho stayed out in the living room, washing his hands and scrubbing off the blood that caked up on his knuckles.

"Thank you once again for your help, Y/N. I am in debt to you."

"No need to thank me, Jongho. Even though this will be my last time to ever be a Moon Knight, this was certainly a mission worth carrying out."

Jongho smiled as he dried his hands clean and stepped closer to you before leaning in and kissing your forehead.

"The next time we cross paths, it'll be on a normal circumstance. For now, I bid you farewell."

"I hope so as well."

"Are you sure you don't want me to heal those cuts for you?"

"It's ok, Jongho. Go ahead and be with your family, I'll be fine."

Jongho smiled once more before waving goodbye and watching you leave his flat. When you entered the car again, you saw Khonshu leaning his head back in embarrassment while Marc and Steven endlessly teased him. As you started the car and drove home, you joined in.

"Hey, you old bird. Did you like the way Sekhmet moved in battle even though she fucked you up?"

"SHUT UP!"

[kahvilahuhut]

just a normal workplace conversation

Summary: What happens when you have two people, who have known each other since university, work on the same project leading different teams? Definitely completely normal conversations that definitely stay on the the same topic all the time (sarcasm). What else can you talk about on your way from one room to another.

Tws: mention of a wound

---

"Hey, Toby. Do you have a moment? Can I get your thoughts on something?"

Tobias turned around and saw Aleena leaning on the door frame, hologram gloves on. He waved his hand. "Sure! If we also get more coffee on our way to your little hologram room," he glanced at his three empty cups standing in the same corner of his desk, one clearly leaving a stain on his to-do list.

"Still a coffee freak, I see. Have you ever tried matcha?"

"Green tea is for evenings when you gotta calm down but don't want to sleep yet. Speaking of, hang on, need to write this down or I'll forget," he opened his whiteboard marker and wrote 'buy more genmaitcha' on his notes section of the board.

"I disagree with your tea opinions but sure, do whatever you want."

"Funny how you're talking about tea when all our office had back then was english breakfast and some flavored green tea."

"It had earl grey too."

"Yeah, yeah. Anyway," he closed his whiteboard marker and placed it in his lab coat's pocket, "what do you need my thoughts for? Though, if it's something anatomy related, I probably barely have any thoughts."

Aleena smirked and motioned him to follow. "Weren't you the guy with the heaviest physiology book in dorm?"

"Bold of you to assume I ever opened it," he chuckled. "I think I mostly used it as a press for things. Like if I accidentally fucked up my notebook's front page and couldn't straighten it out with bare hands or a ruler. Never been into collecting leaves, though. I even managed to skip the whole school year that had it."

"City kid."

"Hey, I was raised in suburbs, we had trees and plants there! A pair of pigeons used to make a nest in front of my house. I just, you know," he shook his hands, "don't want to touch anything dirty. One of the reasons I suck at gardening, too."

"Honestly, that explains while you prefer working in a clean lab environment."

"Hah, nothing better than the smell of dimethyl sulfoxide," he paused with a wide smile, "Get it? Because it doesn't have a scent. At least when it's pure."

"Missed your humor, lab boy. And your sweaters. Is that a bee?"

"Yes! I think the first time I knitted one like this was almost seventeen years ago. I've made at least four of these. First one got ruined when I accidentally knocked a wine bottle while leaning to- Well, anyway! Glad you noticed. I think Samuel hates it. Saw him today when I came to the office in the morning and he just stared at me and my sweater."

"He hates everything related to you, it seems, if I can be honest?" She looked around to make sure that no one was close by, "I heard he wanted to pick someone else as the lead chemist, and the project board overruled him."

"Oh, god, you should have seen his face when I mentioned in the interview that I've only been doing part-time roles for last decade due to health problems. I mean, he's a Mackie guy, though, so no surprise there."

"They seem to have not liking you as a personality trait. Which is funny, considering how your wife works there."

Tobias laughed. "I think Klara's the only reason why their agents haven't shot me in some dark alley yet," he paused, "Can you blame them though? Imagine a guy who tried to whistleblow one of your projects now appears on your new project rekated to the previously mentioned project."

"Christ, Toby, you know how to have fun, don't you," Aleena laughed and opened the door to hologram room. "Speaking of projects, that's one of the things I need your help with. I found something while looking through the old project's files. Since you were there, I thought you could explain it."

He walked in after her, slightly wincing at the bright lamp shining in the middle of dark room. "Oooooh. I'm already having a bad feeling about this." Tobias wasn't sure himself whether he said that about the thing Aleena was asking him about or that he forgot to refill his migraine meds in the bag.

"You said the same thing about taking Frank as one of the ad faces."

"Was I wrong?"

"You tell me - is he good in bed?"

"He sucks. Interpret that however you want."

"Alright then, keep your dirty secrets." She walked to the round, grey area on the floor and pressed a button on the screen next to it. A hologram appeared, showing a scanned part of a hand, stab wound clearly visible. Aleena switched on her gloves and waved her hands to zoom in on the inside parts of the wound. "This was the problem, wasn't it? The substance clogging literally everything around the wound."

Tobias nodded. "Uh-huh. And then they decided to use it as something to cause lethal damage with. And failed."

"Yeah, well. I was thinking, you know," she swiped her hand to the right and an animation appeared, "what if we managed to somehow make it only block the wound, like some kind of magic band-aid?"

"When they closed the project they were indeed theorizing that, if I remember right."

"So it might just work?"

"Hell yeah it might work."

[writingwhimsey]

For your Smut is In the Air Event could I request 1 with comet please ☺️

Thank you for this request. I do love Comte. He's just so... *dreamy sigh* I hope you and everyone else enjoys!

Smut Is In The Air Event

Suitor: ikevamp Comte

Prompt: "I dreamt of your legs wrapped around my waist."

Blissful Morning

I woke wrapped in warmth while a tingling sensation spread over me as something warm repeatedly brushed over my shoulder and along my neck. “Mhn…Abel…” I mumbled sleepily.

“Mmm, forgive me for waking you ma cherie, but I couldn’t help myself.” Comte replied. “I just woke up from the most wonderful dream and I wanted to make it a reality…and you just looked too beautiful sleeping here in my arms.”

I smiled as I rolled over to face him. “Hmm, I can’t really complain about getting woken up by your kisses.” I replied. “Now why don’t you tell me about this dream of yours so I can help you make it come true?”

Comte smiled, his hand sliding up and down my bare back. We had spent the previous night making love before falling asleep from utter exhaustion, tangled up in each other’s arms. “I dreamed of you, ma belle.” He answered, a seductive smile on his face.

“Mmm, I gathered that much.” I replied, a coy smile on my own face. “Now, what exactly were you dreaming about me, my love?”

Comte’s smile took on a mischievous undertone. He rolled us so that I was on my back and he was hovering over me. “I dreamed of your legs wrapped around my waist.” He answered, his hand traveling up the side of my thigh. “What do you say mon amour? Can we make my dream come true?”

“Hmm…” I hummed as I lifted my leg and hooking it over his hip. “I think we can. I know I don’t have any plans for today.”

“I have no other engagements either.” Comte replied. “Of course, I cleared my schedule days ago and took the liberty of clearing your schedule as well.”

“So…you wanted me all to yourself?” I asked.

“I did just get back from a trip and was without my love.” Comte replied, his hands trailing over my body as his lips descended upon my neck. “All I can think about is making love to you over and over again until we are both completely spent.” His hand slipped down between my legs to toy with my most sensitive of places.

“Ngh…Abel…that sounds…amazing.” I replied, already feeling myself giving into the pleasure. His long fingers moved expertly between my legs, working me up. 

“I hoped you would agree.” Comte replied before capturing my lips in a heated kiss, his tongue delving into my mouth, his fingers slipping between my folds to stroke and tease in the deepest parts of me.

My body moved of its own accord, my hips bucking against his hand. Our kiss became sloppy as our passion continued. Each of us panting. “Hng…Abel…” I moaned against his lips.

“Ma cherie…” He moaned as my hands began to wander over his body.

“I…want…more…I need…you…” I whimpered. “Abel…please…”

“I love spoiling you, ma belle.” He replied, slowly removing his fingers from me, and licking them clean. “Though you spoil me as well…because that’s exactly what I want to do.”

Comte positioned his hips between mine before slipping his length inside, filling me deeply. We both moaned as we connected. I wrapped my legs around his waist and my arms around his back. I clung to him as he began to thrust in and out of me. “Mng…Abel!” I moaned.

Comte showered me in kisses as he continued to make love to me, his hands sliding over my breasts, thumbs tracing over my nipples, adding another level of stimulation. “You’re so beautiful…” Comte murmured against my skin. “I love seeing you writhing in pleasure beneath me.”

I could feel the coil deep within me winding tight with each thrust and each touch of his hands and lips against my skin. “Ah…ngh…Abel!” I cried out as my release hit me, my walls clenching tight around his length.

Comte let out a groan of my name as his hips began to stutter and slow, my release pulling him into his own. We were both panting and breathless, clinging to each other. Comte kissed me gently on the lips. “Mmm, I love you, ma cherie.”

“I love you, too Abel.” I replied, hugging him, with my entire body, as he was still buried deep within me.

“I am happy I get to spend the day loving you.” He told me. “And every day for the rest of eternity.”

I smiled up at him. “Forever.” I agreed. “I’ll love you happily forever.”

We spent the rest of the day wrapped up in each other. Our happiness and our love would carry us into a blissful life together. Forever.

Taglist: @kisara-16 @zulablaise @tele86 @otomewonderland5

[enagismos]

if I don't see and hug my boyfriend soon I'm gonna kill everyone and then myself i miss him so much i'm going crazy

[bi-writes]

thinking about being a new lieutenant working with laswell and getting to meet her a-team, tf141, and immediately clashing with your equivalent. that other lieutenant that wears a fucking costume and glares whenever he sees you, simon fucking riley. (kinda dark, 18+)

you hate him. you hate how good he does in the field. it sickens you when you see how every knife he throws hits its target with disgustingly perfect accuracy. you sneer when he aims his rifle, each bullet going exactly where he wants it to go because he's that fucking good, look at him, big man with a big fucking head and a big--

god, it's so frustrating to be out here for so long. on a cot, so far away from everything, reporting back to laswell and then spending time with a task force who is so intelligent on the field but shares one fucking brain cell off of it.

and it's so lonely. it's so lonely, and you feel so far away, and when you show up in front of ghost's room that evening, you don't even exchange words as he steps aside, letting you slink into the dark of it. you don't speak as he crowds you against the door, as he pushes you up against it, when he reveals the lower half of his face so he can kiss you and taste you in every way he's wanted to since he met you. you're so fucking annoying, you crawl under his skin, and when he tastes you, he sucks, his tongue tracing the inside of your mouth as he tugs his cargo pants just under his cock and hoists you up around his waist.

it's just stress relief, you tell yourself as he fucks you against the rattling door. i just need a little relief, is what you say to yourself as he mumbles against yours lips, gripping the fat of your hips in his big hands and putting his cock to good use. he's not gentle, but you don't want him to be. he's too good at what he does, you were hoping he would have fault in one fucking area of his life, but even like this, he shows you just how well he fucks and just how big he really is, everywhere.

please, please, please--! you beg. he snickers, and it's mean, and he's sucking a warm bruise into your neck when he mutters, "tha'sit, swee'eart. we both know who's really in charge, eh? yeah--yeah, good girl--y'r such a good girl--"

and you are. cum soaked thighs, your mouth still on his when he finally comes, grunting as he fills you so full, it's dripping onto your thighs, onto his, dampening the clothes neither of you bothered to take off. and when you leave, you tell yourself this will never happen again, that ghost will keep this a secret because he hates you just as much, that ghost is discreet and quiet and values his privacy, and if you don't speak of this again, neither will he. it suddenly comforts you how closed off he is.

so it does surprise you when the next morning comes, and you go to sit with your team to eat, that ghost snarls when you try and take a seat beside him. you expect this to be a rude gesture, but you squeak when he grips you around the waist and forces you into his lap. you stiffen, but his sergeants barely bat an eye. the braid of your hair is yanked backwards, and you gasp when you feel his breath against your ear, even through the mask.

"the casual shaggin' sort of deal? not m'thing, luvvie. now eat y'r breckie, swee'eart, 'm fuckin' hungry, and 'm not very patient."

he used to think having one of his sergeant's underneath him was the kind of power-play that got him right off.

wrong.

nothing like fucking a pretty little lieutenant good enough she can't fucking remember how to speak.

[shmpxx]

CURSED SPIRIT — y.o

⛤ curse! yuuta okkotsu x fem! reader

yuuta okkotsu being your one and only curse.

cw. smut. unprotected sex. creampies. multiple orgasms. groping. dry humping. public sex-ish. fingering. slight oral (f. receiving). overstimulation. thigh fucking. somnophilia. possessiveness. yandere tendencies. mentions of violence. +18!

wc: 1.2k

a/n: inspired by @deviants-forest work! etc. (go check it out) also happy kinktober! :)

Curse!yuuta who creeps up your back, his hands finding your waist and his lips tickle your ear as he’s whispering how much he needs you on a subway train to home. “Not now…” you whisper over your shoulder to him trying not to be noticeable by others who crowded you and payed no mind, too busy on their phones. You bit your bottom lip when he presses himself against your ass in one movement already having your blood rush like crazy. You try to keep your composure like nothings bothering you but yuuta’s hard on humping into you desperately, whining in your ear and his cold hands reaching under your shirt to grope your boob. “need you ‘s bad” he was always touchy, could never keep his hands off you.

Curse!yuuta who doesn’t mind your sorcerer friends as long as they don’t get too close. Your friends can sense the heavy weight of cursed energy from you, even if they got close it was too much to bare sense yuuta was around, the air would fill thick and negative. You could barely go out with them to eat without his fingers buried in your cunt and playing your clit. They would ask you if you were okay when your head is down on the table but you just excuse it as you were not feeling well for a second but yuuta is grinning ear to ear, amused how your well your taking his slender fingers, curling them inside and you can’t help but squirm in your seat acting like your stomach is just hurting though you were about to orgasm. “Please yuuta..” you whisper to him “Come on you can cum on my fingers..” his raspy tone sending you shivers down your back.

Curse!yuuta who watches an “old friend” hug you, his hands in places that shouldn’t be. After you would praise yuuta for staying calm but yuuta would give shake his head only because you would be upset if he did anything and simply gave you a warning “Next time I’ll break his arm” “You can’t be serious” you sigh, you always knew he was.

Curse!yuuta who clenches his fist watching some prick try to flirt with you in front of him knowing he can’t be seen. Even the second time you reject him you can feel yuuta’s anger grow by the second that in any moment he would take action. “I-i have a boyfriend-“ praying yuuta doesn’t get violent “I don’t see him?” His hand coming up to touch your shoulder now he’s on the floor shouting in pain, blood from his broken nose all over his hands, shaken up that he didn’t see anyone hit him? Was he going crazy? “Pathetic” Yuuta mutters luckily he held back a lot, he could do so much worse and this wasn’t the first time.

Curse!yuuta who gets anxious that you might hate him when you get into arguments. He feels like he can’t exist without you, he’s nothing without you and the thought of you hating him makes his heart sink and scared that he’ll be all alone. He didn’t care about anyone else he just needed you. The amount of times you got tired of telling him not to hurt people and you could handle the situation yourself. He’ll plead you not to hate him and apologized excessively. “We can talk about this tomorrow” his stomach sinking by the tone of your voice that it will all end up to you hating him. He couldn’t stand the feeling.

Curse!yuuta who wants to let you know how much he loves you and how much he needs you, praying you don’t leave him or hate him. He glares at you in your sleeping state though he can’t wait til tomorrow he needed you to know now. “Please don’t hate me” “i love you so much” as he’s softly kissing your neck on each side, peeling your panties off. The cold air makes your cunt clench at his sight. He’s kissing the inner of your thighs sweetly and his lips makes contact with your pussy and a small whimper emits from your mouth. “Yuuta” you utter half sleep thinking it was only a sex dream, you were a heavy sleeper at that. he’s burying his lips between your folds trying to get more like he was so starved. If he can just make you feel good you won’t be mad at him and you can forgive him.

Curse!yuuta who can’t wait any longer, his dick pulsating through his pants even how much he gets drunk off your pussy, he loves the taste of it every time but he’s rutting against the mattress. Brings your thighs together to slip his cock between, throwing his head back letting out quiet moans as his cock is rubbing against your clit between your thighs. Your eyelids almost twitching open. He spreads your legs apart and sinks his dick into you watching your pretty lashes flutter at the sudden pleasure of you being spread apart. “Yu..?” You begin to stir awake, he kisses your lips before you start to fully take consciousness. “I don’t want you to hate me” “forgive me please” as he’s thrusting harsh inside you and swallowing your lips. By the time your walls were the shape of him every time he used you so it was easy for him to slide right in, you were made for him and he was made for you was the thought that brought him comfort. His fingers entwines with yours, his cock continuously rubbing hard in your insides. “Yuuta!” You moaned beautifully in his ear, your hand clawing at his back, yuuta loved it, it didn’t hurt him because you could never hurt him he didn’t mind it.

Curse!yuuta not wanting to stop, he’ll never get tired of cumming and filling up your pussy. You’ll be overstimulated begging him to stop it was awfully much to handle, you couldn’t cum anymore but you did as he’s plunging his cock in your abused cunt. The choke sobs and sounds of squelching filled the room “Need you-need you tell me you love me…please f-forgive me..ah!” Rubbing your clit increasing more nerves. “I-i love you yuuta! Ah-I really do! I could never be mad at you” Your words lifting weight off his chest still pounding into you. Holding you in a warm embrace to finish inside you. When he did filling up your womb one last time with his string of cum, your nails dig into his back letting your last orgasms crash into you. You let out a cry into his shoulder, your body trembles.

Curse!yuuta who needs constant reassurance you’ll never leave him, placing gentle kisses on each part of his face. Even though he’s nothing but a curse to you, being invisible to the outside world, Has a hard time showing remorse it’s just what he does to protect you, he somewhat doesn’t know that but knows he can be a bit possessive he just can’t help the urges of anyone getting close to you or worse even laying a finger.

Curse!yuuta bending you over the counter in the morning as you were trying to make yourself breakfast, last night was rough you were a bit sore but yuuta still misses your pussy. “Just a quick one I promise! I miss you so much! I’m just displaying my love for you—“ he pushes himself inside your worn out cunt from last night once again, you whimper at the feeling each time he rolls his hips when his balls slap against you. His hands reaching to your tit, massaging it in his palms. You don’t think you could ever break the curse from yuuta okkotsu.

[sickslimez]

QUICKIE! — TOJI FUSHIGURO

SYNOPSIS...toji just can’t keep his hands to himself after not fucking you for a week...which results in a quickie

INFO...toji x fem!reader, reader and toji have kids, toji calls reader mama, doggy, groping, spanking, missionary (?), praise, cream pie, not proofread

OTHER...likes and reblogs are appreciated

“Hey do you have anything to wash?” You walked up to Toji holding the laundry basket in your hands as he played with your two kids.

He looked up at you from the floor. “Nah, I’m all set, mama.” He smiled, handing your son his favorite toy. With a nod, you walked away with the full basket, heading towards the laundry room. You sighed at the clean pile of clothes that you had to fold, rolling your eyes in annoyance.

You threw the dirty clothes in the wash before grabbing the detergent. You let out a small squeak at the feeling of your husbands hands snaking around your waist. “You scared me,” you chuckled.

“Sorry,” he responded, pulling you against his chest, sinking his head into the crook of your neck. He placed a small kiss on your skin, hands rubbing up and down your waist. “Should’ve asked me for help.”

You closed the detergent, placing it back on the shelf as you started the washer. “It’s fine, I got it,” you replied. Toji hummed in response, his hands moving lower and lower down your body. “Toji, what are you doing?” You giggled.

You tried to turn and face him but he kept you from doing so. “Uh uh, stay just like this for me,” he whispered. He pushed his hips against your ass, his cock semi-hard. “We haven’t been able to do anything for the past week. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t a little pent up, and you walking around with these shorts and tank top isn’t helping one bit.” He smacked your ass before giving it a harsh squeeze.

You bit down on your bottom lip, feel him grow more hard as you moved your against him. It was true, you and Toji haven’t had sex in the last week or so. Both of you so tired from work and the kids, running errands, it always got in the way of your sex life. You hadn’t really thought about it much before, but now that Toji brought it up, you were feeling quite pent up too. “So, what’re you gonna do about it, hm?” You asked, teasingly.

A low chuckle left his lips, his fingers grazing over your skin, making their way under the fabric of your clothes. His hands came up to your chest, cupping your tits and squeezing them, groping them. Your skin started to heat up and arousal pooled in your panties. Just his touch alone was enough to get you all hot and bothered. “We gotta be quick.” He hurriedly bent you over the washer, a swift hand pulling your shorts and underwear down. “I’ll never get tired of seeing this ass…fuck,” he groaned. He palmed himself through his sweats, admiring the view of your dripping cunt.

Toji wasted no time in pulling his sweats and boxers down, cock springing free and leaking pre cum. He let out a shaky breath, rubbing his tip up and down your slit, mixing his arousal with yours. He could already feel how warm and wet you were, cock throbbing at the thought, anticipating how you feel around him. Slowly, his head pushed past your entrance, your lips wrapping around him, sucking him in. “Ohhh fuck, baby—mmm shit,” he breathed. His hands grabbed your hips, pulling you back on him, going deeper to reach your sweet spot.

“Ah, oh my god.” The stretch was so deliciously intoxicating, sending your brain into a spiral and he’s barely moved yet. “Baby, we gotta be quick, please,” you begged, afraid that one of the kids might knock on the door and interrupt. You felt him thrust slowly, letting you get used to the feel of his cock before going any faster.

“Shhh, it’s fine. They’re watching a movie.” He began pulling you back against his hips so you met his thrusts, your walls clenching around him each time he threatened to pull out. “This pussy is so wet for me, goddamn,” he grunted, moving faster.

“F-fuck!” You stammered, feeling how hard and fast he was going. “Feels so fucking good!” Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, hands gripping onto the edges of the washing machine as you tried to hold yourself stable. “Nnngh! You’re so deep! Oh my god!” You squealed.

Toji pulled you up, your back pressed against his chest as he continued to pound into you. “Shh, mama. I know it feels good, but you gotta keep quiet for me, okay?” He placed his hand over your mouth, his arm wrapped around your waist to hold you steady. Your eyes fluttered shut, the tip of his cock kissing your cervix with each thrust. “Ohh fuck yes. Shit, this pussy feels so fucking good.”

Your muffled moans fell upon deaf ears, your legs felt like they were jelly. Pleasure clouded your mind, all you could think about was him fucking you until you came over and over again. Suddenly, he stopped. He grabbed your hips, turning you around and lifting you on top of the washing machine. He pulled you close to the edge, your arms instinctively wrapped around his neck. Both watched as he slowly slid back inside, a shaky breath leaving his lips as he felt you wrap around him again. “Look at me, don’t take your eyes off me,” he demanded.

You stared back at him with lustful eyes, bottom lip caught between your teeth as you fought so hard to hold back your moans and whimpers. Your brows furrowed in pleasure, feeling how close you were to cumming. Your jaw dropped, head falling back as he grazed over your g-spot. “Oh fuck you’re gonna make me cum!” You cried, gasping for air. “Fuck! Fuck! Baby!” You whimpered.

“I know, mama. Let it all out for me. Cum on this dick.” He kept his pace the same, feeling you clench around him, a sign you were close. His hand wrapped around your neck, pulling you in for a sloppy kiss, tongues messily moving against each other as he swallowed your moans. Finally, the coil snapped. You pulled away from the kiss, eyes rolling back, body quivering as you came. Toji covered your mouth again, muffling your curses and moans. “There you go, that’s my good fucking girl.”

He pulled his hand away, staring back at you with half lidded eyes, loving the cum drunk look written all over your face. “Cum in me,” you spoke.

“But, your not on—”

“I don’t care, cum in me,” you said with desperation.

“I fucking love you,” he chuckled with a smile, his thrusts growing sloppier. He was fixated the way his cock disappeared in you, each time he pulled back out he could see your cum at the base. It only drove him more crazier. “Nnngh, ah! Oh, baby I’m gonna cum!” His hips stuttered against yours before he buried himself deep inside of you, feeling him coat your walls with his sticky cum. “Fuck!” He grunted. “Ah, yes!” He breathlessly chuckled.

“I think we both needed that,” you laughed.

“I agree.” He smiled, pulling you closer to place his lips on yours. He slowly pulled out, his cum slowly dripping out of you. “We made quite a mess.” He looked down between your legs and then back up at you.

“We’ll clean it up—”

A knock on the door startled both on you, thankfully Toji had locked the door. “Mommy, daddy, the movie is over! We wanna watch another!”

“It’s your bedtime, sweetheart! Maybe tomorrow!” Toji shouted back. Both of you looked at each other, sharing a few seconds of silence before laughing. “I think we might have to start doing quickies more often, yeah?” He whispered.

“Once you put the kids to sleep, meet me in the shower.” You kissed his lips, entangling your fingers in his hair.

“I just can’t get enough of you, mama.”

[omgeto]

☆ WHEN YOU HAVE SEX WITH YOUR PROFESSOR — NANAMI, TOJI, GETO, GOJO.

summary: you have sex with your professor. for many different reasons.

wc: 4.2k (each of these were meant to be 500 words long so idk what happened)

cw: smutty smut afab!reader who's in university, mutual masturbation, spanking, semi public sex, toji is not a professor but a gym coach who rails you in a supply closet, but theres a lot of sex on a lot of desks so mdni.

an: theres actually a smidge of plot in this just a tiny bit if you do a deep squint, but the smut id personally say is my best yet. so give it a chance people, but come for the smut stay for the dialogue. hope you enjoy! not proofread ignore mistakes pls

☆ NANAMI

nanami kento, was the strictest teacher you have ever had. you couldn’t get away with your usual tricks that you did with some of your other professors — strutting past their office during office hours in your skimpiest clothes to get a better grade. it was as if nanami was immune to all your devices.

but with a big exam coming up, you knew you had to make something happen since studying was not your forte. so you were prepared to do anything to get that A.

“come in," his deep voice calls from inside.

as you enter his office, you are met with the sight of your professor, his glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, reviewing a stack of papers. he glances up at you briefly before returning his attention to his work.

"what can I help you with?" he ask, his tone professional.

“i wanted to see if we could talk about the exam you set for us tomorrow,” you start to say, his eyes still focused on his papers, not sparing you a glance. “i was thinking we could figure out a way for me to get extra credit… sir.” 

you had his attention now. technically you’ve always had his attention — yes nanami was different to all the other professors you’ve ever had but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t a man at the end of the day. 

he always noticed the way you’d sit in his classroom, your pouty mouth always gnawing at your pencil as you never had a clue what was going on. nanami always had to hide his dick feeling tight in his trousers whenever you walk into his classroom. little did you know that you actually would’ve failed his class a long time ago, but because he just couldn’t let go of the sight of how your pretty tits bounce everytime you raise your hand, he always made you pass. 

“well what are you willing to do for that extra credit?” he says, his tone slightly amused.

“whatever you want” you respond a bit too eagerly, you were coming onto him hard. but it was working, you could already see the crack in his usual stoic facade. “c’mon professor nanami, i need to pass this class,” you practically beg. 

“oh yeah, you definitely need to pass this exam, you’re one more failed exam to flunking my whole class,” he affirms — lying through his teeth. “so i think you should come sit up here, and show me what you’re willing to do huh.”

suddenly, you start to feel nervous. usually you’d have control of the situation, you’d flaunt your ass, fuck your teacher and get an A, easily. but this time, you could see in nanami’s eyes that from when you entered his office — that he was running the show.

you saunter over his desk, and he pushes his seat back allowing you to have room to perch on his desk in front of him. “take off your shirt,” he commands, and you’re quick to fling off your top — that was barely covering anything anyways, “wow no bra, why am i not surprised.” he stares at your hardened nipples smirking as he continues to say, “you know i see your nipples peeking at me through your shit all the time in class.”

“really?” you question coyly.

“you don’t think i see how you practically fuck yourself in your seat when i’m doing a reading,” he continues, his arms folding as if he was telling you off, “a bit disrespectful, right?”

“no i-it’s just i really like the sound of your voice,” you stammer, embarrassed at him calling you out. you couldn’t deny that your professor was hot, everybody thought so and you hated school the only thing that got you through your classes was your day dreams of him fucking you.

“oh really, well i wanna see you get off to it for real this time.”

“wha—”

“touch yourself,” he demands with a grin, “fuck yourself on your fingers, put on a show for me,” he loosens his tie, and unbuttons his cuffs, ready to watch you perform for him, “and if you do well, then we could talk about your extra credit.”

you take off your pants, your hands moving directly to your throbbing pussy — since of course you had no panties on. you press your thumb down on your clit as your fingers work their way into your cunt. you were already soaked, just from hearing your professor speak to you, so it was easy to slide your digits in and out of you. 

nanami’s grin grows wider, loving the way your work your pussy,  “you not gonna play with your tits?” and you take his hint, your other hand sliding up to cup one of your boobs, your fingers pinching and pulling at your nipples. “good girl,” he praises.

you add another finger inside of you, writhing down hard on his desk against your digits. you quicken your pace, rubbing your thumb vigorously against your clit. his gaze on you served as an encouragement, your ultimate goal was shifted, at this point you didn’t care whether he passed or failed you — you just wanted to put on a good show for him.

“you gonna cum for me?” he taunts, the sound of your pussy squelching around your fingers as you drive them in is like music to his ears. you barely even noticed him fisting his dick, stroking it hard — matching the pace of your fingers hammers your cunt.  “you gonna make a big mess for me all over my desk?”

“professor i-” you whine, wanting more than just your own fingers inside of you, “please i need—”

“professor? what was it that you called me earlier?” he teases, “remind me of that and then maybe i’ll give you what you’re begging for.”

“s-sir please,” you sputter, barely being able to string a sentence together. you could feel you were about to cum hard. your fingers were still drilling into your pussy, and your hands were still suctioned on your tit and nanami's dick was taunting you. “i need you.”

“you need me hmm?” he mocks, his eyebrow tilting as he stares at your fucked out face.

“yeah p-please i need your dick,” you beg, your pussy was gushing all over your fingers, as your strokes got sloppier, “i need you i-in me.”

“oh really?” he asks with a smirk, a slight chuckle as you nod eagerly, “well too bad.”

“wha—”

“you really thought i’d put my dick in a slutty student that’s not even smart enough to even pass my class?” he lectures, he tuts his teeth, shaking his head, “now finish off for me and leave office hours end in a few minutes.”

“f-fuck,” you moan out, you could barely even process his words, too busy focused on cumming all over your fingers to think about how he just denied you of what you really wanted, your hand falls off your tit, your head jerking back as your release over his desk. he’s quick to cum too, biting down on his fist to surpress the loud moan threatening to come out

“you really made a mess for me huh,” he observes, swiping his fingers across the pool of cum you left on his desk and bringing it into his mouth, “sweet.” you were at a loss for words, you were just coached through one of the best orgasms you ever had from your professor — and he didn’t even touch you — yet you still don’t know whether he’s gonna pass you or not.

“so about that exam…?” you voice trails, as you put back on your shirt, hopping of his desk.

“i’ll think about it, sit the exam first and i’ll see what i can do,” his voice turns serious, and he nods his head in the direction for you to leave indicating for you to get up out of his office. but just before you're about to leave the room he calls out to you, “oi.”

“thanks for the live show.” 

☆ TOJI 

“why do we always have to fuck in such awkward spaces,” you complain nearly tripping on a basketball as toji holds you upright.

“you know you love it baby,” he smirks, pressing a kiss to your cheek, thrusting up into you further. 

you were in the gym supply closet, having your weekly sex with your university's gym teacher. you don’t even know how your little routine came about but once he started to hammer into you every friday after basketball practice, you’ve never missed a meet up.

“don’t call me that,” you groan out at the use of his pet name.

“why not?” he grumbles, cupping your tits with his hands as he stands behind you, “aren’t you students s’pposed to listen to your teachers and all that.”

you take a sharp inhale as his large hands smother your boobs, his thick things toy with your nipples, “but y-you aren’t a real teacher, in case you forgot.”

“am too,” he mutters like a child.

“a-are not,” you spit back just as childishly.

“am, too,” he persists, thrusting into you hard. pushing you down by your nape, forcing your hands to grip onto some random gym apparatus. he uses his foot to spread your legs apart wider so he can fit right behind you. fucking into you with something to prove.

“you teach gym to a bunch of brain dead j-jocks, wouldn’t say that classifies as being an actual professor toji.” you continue riling him up, biting your lip as his hammers into you harder. “you’re more like a glorified personal trainer than a teacher.”

he drives into you deeper, “oh and your just an uppity bitch, who still ended up fucking this ‘personal teacher,’ in a gym closet,” his mouth moves close to your ear, as he whispers, “so what does that say about you baby?” he presses a kiss underneath your ear lobe, before lightly sucking on it.

his words go straight to your core, him calling you an ‘uppity bitch’ had the exact effect he intended them to have — you throwing  your ass on his dick, fucking him back as hard as he was fucking you. 

he sends a smack to your ass, biting his lip as it ripples at the contact of his palm. his slaps were merciless, having you scream out every time he hits your cheek. “how’s this for a glorified personal trainer huh?” he coos in your ear, feeling dignified as you rut against him more feigning for more of his dick in your throbbing pussy. 

“ah you f-fill me up s-so so good,” you mewl out, as his dick pumps in and out of you stuffing you with every thrust. his mouth latches onto the nape of your neck, sucking on it as he ploughs into you deeper, hitting your spot with pinpoint accuracy.

“i know i do baby, i always stuff you good don’t i?” he groans out, your pussy was a vice grip on his dick, had him suppressing his moans whenever you clenched around him, “don’t know why you fuck around with these lame ass boys in your classes, they can’t fuck you like i do. do they?”

“well…” you voice trails in a teasing tone.

“dont f-fucking play with me,” he sputters, feeling himself about to bust all inside of you, “i’m the only one you fucking right,” when he doesn’t hear an immediate answer, he shoves himself into you his hips pushing right against your ass, “right?”

“y-yes fuck, right,” you sigh rolling your eyes at his act of possessiveness — ignoring how you pussy got even wetter at his words. “you’re the b-best i ever had, toji.”

“you’re damn right i am,” he scoffs out giving your ass one final slap as he says, “you going finish all over my dick, c’mon baby coat my dick with your sweet sweet,” and you do just that. you cum with a cry, releasing all over toji, as he shoots into you a loud groan leaving his mouth.

“aww i forgot how loud you get for me,” you tease him as he pulls out of you, turning to look at him with a grin, which he huffs out, “anyways what did i tell you about cumming in me, i'm not one of those cheerleaders you run around with,” you fuss swatting at his chest.

“yeah you aren’t one of the cheerleaders i run around with,” he repeats, “hence why i can cum in you, you know you’re my favourite fuck out of all my students”

“ugh you’re so gross.”

“you say that with my cum running down your legs,” he says, giving you a pointed look, his eyes staring down at your thighs, “i do have another hour till my next class i gotta teach, so i could clean it up for you?” he offers, already going down to his knees, knowing that was a suggestion you would not deny.

“if you insist.”

he starts to suck against your thighs as you lean against the wall, sandwiched between a goal post and a hockey stick, but just before his lips latch onto your pussy, he looks up to you with a pout, “do you really think gym coaches aren’t teachers?”

“oh shut up toji,” you mutter, pushing his head to your cunt.

☆ GETO

you storm into your professors office, pissed off. professor geto was the worst teacher you’ve ever had. he was cocky, arrogant and most of the time he didn’t have a clue what he was teaching. 

“ah miss know it all,” he muses, his personal nickname he created for you during his first semester of being your professor, “to what do i owe the pleasure this time.” you were no stranger to geto’s office, you were practically the only student that actually used his office hours. geto didn’t mind it though. the unplanned visits, your impoliteness — he was amused by it. 

“could you explain why you gave me a B, on my last paper?” you interrogate, waving said essay in his face furiously, “when we both know that this is easily worth an A.”

“i just think you could do better,” he shrugs nonchalantly, “i just think you haven’t harnessed your true potential, that’s all.” geto knew you were smart, the smartest person he’s ever taught. he just needed to get you in his office. and he knew a below average grade on an essay, that didn’t even matter, was the way to do that.

“and what do you know about potential?” you mutter, more to yourself than anything, “i don’t even know how you managed to get this job.”

he rolls his eyes at your comments, “do you really want this A?” 

"of course i want the stupid A," you reply, your tone determined. "i've put in the effort, and i've met all the requirements for this paper. there's no reason for you to give me a B except for your own personal bias against me."

“personal bias? some may argue that you’re actually my favourite?” geto leans back in his chair, a sly grin on his face. "but alright, then. here's the deal," he says, folding his arms. "if you can convince me right now, in this very moment, that you deserve an A for this paper, i'll change your grade. but you'll have to persuade me.”

“persuade you?” you retort, “what you want me to do a powerpoint presentation or something…?” 

he chuckles, shaking his head at your naivety, for someone so smart you somehow lack social awareness, “no i wanna see if you taste as good as you look.”

“you mean…” your voice trails, finally catching on to what he was getting at.

“come lay down on my desk,” he says casually as if this was a usual ordeal between the two of you. he could see you hesitating, “you do want that A right?” 

your feet were stuck in the ground, you never wanted to be one of those girls — ones that had to fuck a teacher just to get through university. but, regardless of your below A grade, you were more curious about what it would actually be like. especially with a professor that looked like geto. 

you lay down on his desk, nervous, you could feel his breath on your stomach as he slides down your jeans. he was kneeling down, his face at the same level as your pussy. he toys with your underwear, pulling at it and snapping it against your skin, giving you a smile of approval in your choice of panties. but just before he pulls them off you he asks, “you sure you want to do it smarty? you can run back to your dorm if you want?”

“anything to get the A,” you grit out, basically lying, since getting your grade improved was the last thing on your mind as he pulls off your underwear. 

he takes his hair — that was usually tied up in bun —  down, releasing his long hair, “just in case you need something to pull on,” he smirks.

his fingers slide across your wet slit, spreading your lips. he presses a kiss on your clit, slightly nibbling on it before working his mouth down to your pussy. you gasp at the contact as he latches his mouth on you, his tongue darting into your cunt at a quick pace. 

geto hums in satisfaction as you hands immediately go to grab his hair, pulling at it as his tongue gives you long strokes, lapping up all the juices already spilling out of you. “i didn’t think my star student would be this needy, if only the class could see you now.” he taunts lifting his head up, “i guess they wouldn’t be surprised though, your as hungry for my tongue as you are to answer questions in class,” he finishes with a chuckle pressing a kiss to your thigh.

but you’re quick to silence him, clenching your thighs against his head, “s-shut up,” you whine, thrusting your hips up in his face to meet his tongue. your head was swirling, you could barely remember how you ended up on your professors desk in the first place. but all you were focused on was clawing your fingers through his scalp as he slurps and sucks on your pussy.

“oh m-my god,” you murmur, soaking his face. he could tell by the way you pushing his face deeper into your cunt, his nose forced into your arousal that you were close.

“ready to let me taste you” he asks, his voice sending vibrations over your pussy, “wanna taste you so fucking bad.”

“fuck d-didn’t think it’ll be this g-good,” you whine out. he brings his thumb to you clit rubbing it as fast as he could taking you over the edge. you moan out, practically squealing, as you squirt all over his face. he smirks, trying to get as much as it as he can.

“i didn’t know my star student could squirt,” he teases, his mouth glistening with evidence of you, “or should i call you my star squirter.”

“haha, very funny…” you deadpan, becoming slightly shy at seeing him lick his lips wiping the last remains of you off of him.

“i guess my theory was right,” he concludes.

“what theory?” you ask, puzzled, forgetting the whole reason you let him eat you out in the first place.

“you do taste as good as you look,” he comments with a pleased grin, already reminiscing about you squirting all over his face.

“so about my A?” you ask pulling up your jeans, and collecting your things.

“yeah i’ll expect your rewrite on my desk by friday,” he shrugs, going back to his nonchalant persona.

“rewrite? did you not promise me an A if i can ‘persuade you,’ at how badly i want it?” you question, going back to your original state of being pissed off, “did i not persuade you mr ‘you do taste as good as you look.’ this is so unfair”

“ask me if i care about fairness?” he smirks, a laugh leaving his lips as he watches you storm out of his office, “hey! you left your underwear,” he calls out behind you, his laugh growing as you say nothing, putting up your middle finger at him and slamming his door shut.

☆ GOJO

“do you want to lose your job?” you chastise, “shut the fuck up.”

“but i can’t help it,” he purrs, nuzzling into your neck to suppress his non stop moans and whines that he was doing as he pushed his dick in you, “your pussy’s just too good.”

you were leaning against the desk of your professor gojo’s lecture hall, your legs wrapped around his bag as he hoisted you up, grinding his body against yours as his dick drives in your pussy. 

it was after hours, and gojo forgot to lock his classroom doors. as soon as your peers left the room he was quick to put his lips on yours, throwing all the stationary on his desk on the floor in the most dramatic fashion ever. 

you don’t know how you got entangled in a relationship with your teacher. since you didn’t actually benefit from it, and he was needier and clingier than an actual student your age. but the mind blowing orgasms he gave you every now and again made you forget all of his ‘bad qualities.’

“c’mon don’t tell me it’s not making you feel wetter,” he murmurs in between kisses, “the idea of someone walking in on me fucking your pretty little pussy.” you ignore him, your arms tightening around his neck as you bounce on his dick. “tell me that doesn’t make you hot,” he eases his dick out of you slightly, drawing both of your attention to his member already covered in your juices. his eyebrows raise when you look back at him as if he’s just proved his point.

“whatever, i guess the idea of us getting caught isn’t that bad,” you lie, knowing it was causing you to get better, “but if we do get caught then it's your ass gojo.”

“aww you’re so thoughtful,” he coos, “you really care about me and my job, will you miss me if i get fired?”

“well i’ll miss my on campus dick,” you mutter, scratching at his back, as he thrusts into you deeper, “but i’ll be able to replace you quickly i guess.”

“oh how you wound me,” he mocks, pulling you into a deep kiss, desperate to taste you. that was gojo’s favourite thing to do to you, of course your pussy was great, but your lips were his favourite thing. sometimes he’d even drag you out of the hallway into his office —not a care in the world if anyone was around— and pull you into his lap just shove his tongue into your mouth and fondle your tits.

for a lousy professor, gojo sure knew your body well. he knew every spot to hit, every place to kiss, every stroke to make and you loved it. the scratches you were giving him on his back, encouraging him to go deeper, stuffing you to the brim. “f-fuckk you take me so so well,” he moans in your ear, whining and grunting as you tighten your hold around him. 

“i’m close,” he mutters, his pace slowing. he lowers you down so your back is laying on the desk and he swoops his mouth down to your tits. enveloping your left breast with his mouth, greedily suckling at it. 

“wow already?” you taunt, “you’ve really lost your touch professor, when i was an undergrad we could go at it for days.” his mouth pauses, as he looks up at you with a pointed look that reads as ‘girl really? as if you aren’t close.’ he wasn’t wrong, from his deep long strokes in your pussy, and his tongue twisting on your nipples, you were ready to cum all over him.

“gojo shit,” you curse, your hand coming down to your clit, flicking at it fast to speed up your orgasm. but gojo slaps your hand away, almost offended that you would try to cum off of something other than his hands and mouth. he bites down on your nipple, punishingly and that sends you overboard. you let out a shriek as you cum all over his dick, your hand quickly coming over your mouth to suppress your whines.

“what happened to being quiet huh?” he mocks your warning from earlier, “don’t want to get caught, do we now?” but he’s quick to let out a deep moan, as he releases into you, spraying your walls with all your cum. he slumps over you, exhausted, and wanting to just feel you — gojo was always needy after sex.

after you both come down from your highs and clean up — thankful that nobody stumbled across you. gojo pulls you into his lap, dabbing kisses all over your neck, “so when you gonna let me take you out, outside the classroom?”

“y’know that’s not allowed right?” you remind him, looking at your professor as if he’s lost his mind, “what we’re doing now isn’t allowed, but out in public is a no go, gojo.”

“not allowed?” he retorts, as if it’s news to him, “i thought it was just heavily frowned upon?!”

an: sooo what did you think? which one was your favourite. me personal lame gym coach toji really did it for me. tagging my girl @jabamin mainly just for nanami. but yes ALSO IDK WHY I MADE THE READER DUMB IN THE NANAMI FIC, but I juxtaposed it by making you super smart in the geto fic so it balances it out. anyways lmk what you thought, thanks for reading!! DONT USE MY DIVIDERS

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。i know you still think about the times we had

synopsis. satoru will always comes when you call him, he just never thought you’d stop calling

— word count. 5.2k (where did i go wrong)

— contents. college au, rich boy! gojo, break ups and make ups <3, it’s the cliche trope where the rich guy’s parent forces you to leave him aka gojo’s father is the villain, angst with a happy ending—i don’t want my cause of death to be angry rb! gojo stans, emo gojo ft. marvin’s room (iykyk), cliche rain scene—this fic is so cliche i’m sorry, reader is gn! but gojo is mentioned to like pics of girls on instagram (he was being petty)

— notes. well, it finally happened. the long awaited break up. this one’s for you niku 🤞🏽 AND DABITEE ANON

you open the door when satoru knocks—just barely, though. it’s just enough to hand him the bag with the remaining things he’s left at your apartment. it feels familiar, being here, but it feels so different too. it’s always been happy knocking on your door—he never thought he’d dread letting his knuckles meet the cool wood. it’s like taking the last bite of something sweet when you’re too full. when the sugar is too decadent on your tongue and your head spins and your stomach twists and it’s too much even though it used to be so good.

it’s too much being here. it’s too much trying to meet your gaze and get nothing in return. it’s too much being handed back that sweater he basically let you keep. and yet, it’s good to see you. he wants nothing more than to be here with you, wherever you are, even if you don’t want him to stay.

“that should be everything,” you murmur, still looking down. “let me know if there’s anything missing.”

satoru would never tell you if there’s something missing. he’d never come back and demand back something he gave you, he doesn’t think he could ever take back something he gave you—being handed back his heart after pressing it to your palms is hard enough. but then again, maybe he should look for small things you probably missed. just so he can come back. just so he can see you—how else will he see you now?

“no, it’s alright,” he says quietly. he doesn’t miss the way you quickly let go as soon as his hands grab the bag, almost like you’re being careful enough not to let your fingers meet each other. “you can uh…you can just keep them. or…throw them out if you don’t want them,” he mumbles.

you nod, standing there silently. it’s quiet, and then it’s quiet some more. and finally, you look up at him for the first time since he got here, staring at him a little expectantly. oh, right. now would be the part where he leaves.

“can i…can i just know why?” he croaks. fuck. he’s not supposed to cry. you ripped his heart out and threw it at his feet, you didn’t even care to hand it to him even after you tore every artery apart. but he sniffles anyway, lips wobbling as he stares at you. “why are you leaving me?”

your fingers twitch, like you itch to reach over and wipe that tear that rolls down his cheek. in the end, you cross your arms instead. “i already told you, satoru—”

“that’s bullshit,” he clicks his teeth, shaking his head as he stares at you frustratedly, “you gave me some bullshit reason.”

satoru has worked so hard to be here—to be with you. hadn’t he done enough? hadn’t he told you about himself, things he didn’t want to? hadn’t he tried to become something, someone more than just a guy swimming in trust funds? hadn’t he worked for your attention, waited outside classes and walked opposite directions in the hall with you just to seem dedicated? fuck, he even burned his hand trying to learn how to make pancakes to impress you, let the maids laugh at him as he twisted the stove the wrong way to try and turn it on. 

why wasn’t it enough? what more could he give you than everything? how can the guy who has everything not have enough to give? he doesn’t understand.

“satoru, we weren’t gonna work,” you pinch your nose—it’s like you’re the one who doesn’t understand why he’s being like this. “the sooner you accept that the more hurt you’re saving the both of us—”

“we were working just fine,” he says exasperatedly. it’s like you insist he’s crazy when he’s nothing but sane. like he’s trying to tell you the sky is blue, and you’re refusing to believe it’s anything other than green. it’s clear. it’s practically a fact. you were doing just fine—why don’t you see that? “we were happy,” he takes a step forward and cups your cheeks, pressing his forehead to yours, “was it someone? did they tell you something? just tell me who, baby—i’ll fix it. i’ll put them in their place, okay? no one can bother you if i get them to leave you alone—”

“then you leave me alone,” you whisper. he stills. you pull away from his hands. “sator—gojo. please just leave me alone. it’s better that way.”

you close the door, and he stands there. numb. maybe a little shocked. entirely ruined.

gojo. he laughs quietly after a moment at that—it’s a laugh meant for men who’ve lost the last thread to sanity. gojo. it’s like a slap in the face, being called the name he worked so hard to get you to drop. it took him weeks—months, even, to convince you to call him satoru. then he upgraded to toru. then it was baby. sometimes you teased him and called him pumpkin—he called you peaches in return. when you introduced him, you called him your boyfriend. 

not anymore. now he’s back to gojo—that god-forsaken name with everything but what he really wants attached to it. his grandfather’s legacy. his future. business deals. fancy invites. more money than he knows what to do with. the name gojo comes with everything but you.

but he had you for a bit, didn’t he? when he was just satoru—but now he’s gojo again, and you’re gone. the only sign of you left is in the faint traces of your perfume in the sweaters you’ve returned. 

and satoru still isn’t sure what brought the break up on. he thinks it’s the part that stings the most—when everything seems perfect one second, and then it’s not. had he not tried enough? maybe he was too much. maybe he didn’t understand you the way you needed him to. maybe he was too overbearing. maybe he asked for too much too fast. 

he’s not sure. he tried asking when you broke it off—you only shook your head and said it wasn’t going to work out between the two of you, that it was a mistake to try at all. mistake? how could you call this a mistake? things were so perfect, weren’t they?

satoru doesn’t think there was even one second he wasn’t smiling when he was with you, and he used to think the same was true for you too. had you been faking it this long? or was it real at one point—had he really failed you so badly, seen past you so blindly that he didn’t notice when your smiles stopped reaching your eyes?

it’s too late, he figures. you and satoru are broken up. 

you ask him to come over one morning, and he does—because he always comes when you call. he brings your coffee order from that cafe you like, the one you don’t go to often because the coffee is more overpriced than any other coffee shop you’ve ever seen. he’s grinning when you open the door, leans in to kiss your lips excitedly. you turn your head then, and his lips meet your cheeks instead—he supposes he should’ve known it at that moment. he should’ve seen that your lips weren’t smiling. your eyes were tired, a little red. you were hugging yourself in that way you do when you’re nervous. you didn’t let him kiss your lips, you made him kiss your cheek. 

and then you sat him down on that worn-down couch of yours, took off that bracelet his mother gave him to gift you on your anniversary, and pressed it to his palm as you said we should break up. break up. you wanted to leave him—and satoru didn’t understand, still doesn’t understand. 

he’s tried for so long, replayed the last month of your relationship in his head over and over and fucking over. you always smiled. you kissed him first. you held his hand, and even squeezed. you asked to see him. you laughed when he was around. you said i love you. you were happy. but then you weren’t—when did you stop being happy? and how could you have stopped feeling it with him?

—————

breaking up with satoru is the hardest thing you’ve ever done. how long can people live without the sun? you think not longer than a few minutes—that’s what it feels like without satoru’s warmth, anyway. 

gojo satoru has always smiled as long as he’s been with you. he smiled smugly on your first meet, smiled bitterly after every rejection, smiled in pure glee when you finally said yes, and smiled like his fingertips could touch the sky every time he saw you after that. 

satoru has never looked sad for long in your presence—you have that effect on him, you make his lips curl and his eyes brighten in that way that they deserve to shine. but for the first time ever, his eyes dim with you around, his lips curl into a frown at your words, and he cries for you. his eyes glisten with tears instead of wonder, and you think for a moment that you might be making a mistake. 

but then you remember that this is for the best—that if you really love gojo satoru, you’ll let him go instead of clipping his wings.

“he’s picked up his things,” you speak quietly into the phone. you don’t sniffle even as you desperately need to—it’s the last bit of control you have left, and you intend to keep it. “i won’t be seeing him again.”

“good,” his father speaks, “that’s good to hear.” 

satoru’s father is a cold man, you learn that on the first meet. he doesn’t look at his wife with a soft look that tells you there’s any love built between the decades of marriage, and he doesn’t look at his only son with any affection for the boy he raised. instead, he stares at satoru like any businessman would an opportunity—with a calculating gaze that tries to work out the best course of action for the most profit. 

satoru is young, but he’s charming and conniving and knows how to get what he wants when he wants—he’s quick on his feet and rarely lets himself get cornered into a wall. in the last three generations of the family business, no heir has shown as much promise as gojo satoru. that’s what his father tells you, anyway. you believe him—satoru is smart and knows how to play his cards right, you won’t deny that. his future is set to be comfortable, and he’s never known anything outside of that, never built any other plans for himself. 

you can’t rip that away from him—not for your own sake, not for your own happiness. 

“you promised you wouldn’t freeze his trust funds once i ended things,” you remind him, “and that he’d keep his inheritance.” somehow, because the world grants you this one favor, your voice doesn’t shake—it’s steady and firm as it reminds the stone-cold man at the end of the line of your agreement—and he offers a slow chuckle that makes your jaw clench. 

“yes, i do recall,” he hums, “i’m glad we could come to agree. you understand, don’t you? it is my job as his father to do what’s best for him.���

you know what he’s saying—what that means. you’re not what’s best for him. maybe he’s right—maybe satoru needs someone who’s equally as promising to build a successful company into even more success. maybe he needs someone who can take him out for a change to those fancy places he takes you every few weeks. maybe he needs someone who’s heard of half the brands he wears and doesn’t scold him to turn the lights off so the electricity bill isn’t high. maybe he needs someone who can keep up with everything that gojo satoru is—and that someone is not you, no matter how deeply you love him. 

“—the offer still stands, should you change your mind. i’m willing to compensate you for the trouble this must all be.” 

your lips curl into a scowl at his words. that’s the thing about rich people, you think—money is always enough to sugarcoat everything. why worry about the dead grass in your lawn when you can paint it green? but you don’t leave satoru for extra cash on your hands—nothing can be worth auctioning off the only man who’s ever made you feel anything. you leave satoru because he deserves to continue living comfortably, to make a name for himself that isn’t just a ghost of his father’s. if that means being cut from the corner of the picture, you’re willing to pick up the scissors yourself. 

“no thanks,” you hiss, “i don’t need the money.”

“i would disagree,” his father sneers, “but suit yourself.”

the line ends, and for good this time, satoru is no longer yours. was he ever to begin with? 

—————

you try to forget your ex-boyfriend—keyword, try. every hour of your life consists of you using your burner account to refresh his instagram page to see if he’s posted anything new. you unfollow satoru from every social media platform the same day he picks up his belongings—you know he’s noticed within the first thirty minutes because all of his pictures with you are gone, just like all your pictures with him. 

in what you assume is an attempt to be petty, he likes every picture of every girl he sees, and he even blocks you on twitter—you know he picks twitter because twitter is the only social media that blatantly states you’re blocked. but then you’re unblocked in two days, and you know he must be missing you now that the initial anger is faded. 

it makes you laugh a little, even through your tears. satoru is not satoru without petty fits of emotion, and you can’t bring yourself to be mad, not when it’s your fault he’s hurting like this. he’s extra sad today, you gather—if the way marvin’s room is posted to his instagram story on a blank screen is of any hint. it makes you scoff in amusement that in true gojo satoru fashion, he’s effectively told all eight-thousand-something of his followers he’s pathetically in his feelings. 

you scroll through suguru’s story, too—he didn’t unfollow you even after satoru temporarily blocked you, but you figure suguru is the only person satoru really has. you shouldn’t keep yourself close to him, not when it could hurt satoru more, so you remove him too. 

suguru is, as always, drinking at some fancy party with obnoxiously rich college students who have not a care in the world for midterms around the corner. who needs to pass when you’re swimming in money whether or not you have a degree? the first thing you learn about the rich is that most of them are only at college for the experience—they don’t see college as the stepping stone to better opportunities, there’s nothing education could offer that trust funds already don’t. but satoru attends college for himself—he enjoys business classes, you learn, and especially finance ones. for someone who spends money so carelessly, he understands it particularly well. 

there’s no sign of satoru at whatever party it is suguru is at, there’s no trace of strikingly bright white strands anywhere in any corners—you do see naoya in a corner, though, and you crinkle your nose in distaste. if satoru were here, he’d say something bitterly under his breath about the asshole, and you would giggle. but satoru is not here, and even naoya the women-hating jackass makes you miss your obnoxiously whiny ex-boyfriend. 

everything reminds you of satoru. that bear he won you at the fair (after maybe six tries) by your pillows, those polaroids at your desk that you can’t bring yourself to take down, that sticky note on your fridge he left promising to replace the creamer he finished (he’s replaced it more times than he’s needed to by now), that extra big blanket you keep on the couch because the old one barely covered his legs, that pair of silly matching mugs you both had for coffee in the mornings. 

every corner of your apartment has something that reminds you that satoru was here, that he was yours, that for a short while, he was the best thing you ever had. it’s your fault, you think—that satoru and you are here in this mess in the first place. he’s always looked at life through a hopeful lens. having everything does that to you, makes you ignorant to the misfortunes of the world, makes you think everything is within the realm of your reach. you, on the other hand, knew this was bound to happen. the two of you together is like hot oil and cool water—what feels like sparks is just the oil shooting out to burn you. you should’ve known this would have never lasted. 

in a way, you think you did. it’s why you hated him so fiercely at first—maybe deep down, you always knew you wanted him, that he would never be yours. maybe that’s why you were so adamant about rejecting him, that even when he was clearly trying, it would never be enough. satoru has always been enough, has always been what everyone has wanted—you’re not so sure you can say the same for yourself. 

you love gojo satoru. he loves you too—he falls first, and you think maybe, he might have fallen harder too. no one loves like satoru. they say if you press coal hard enough, it turns to diamonds—you think if you gave satoru coal, he would hand you back the sun and all of her stars. it’s just the kind of guy he is, the one that turns everything dull into something bright and warm and worth it. you wish you didn’t have to break his heart, you wish you could’ve walked out of this the only one hurt. but maybe, at the very least, if you break him good enough that he hates you, he’ll move on quicker, maybe have something to look forward to while you continue to work your way up and cheer him on. 

before you can refresh suguru’s page one more time to stalk his story, you’re pulled from your thoughts as someone knocks on your door—correction: pounds on your door. you jolt on your couch, standing up and making your way to the front door quickly and looking through the peephole. 

satoru. of course.

he’s soaked to the bone—it’s raining outside, and of course, just as on brand as always, he must’ve rushed here without an umbrella.

you shouldn’t open it.

but you can’t just leave him in the rain, can you? but he’s not your problem anymore, you agreed to leave him, didn’t you? but how could he not be your problem when he’s all you think about? but this could cause him trouble if his father found out he was here, right? but can you really leave someone, ex-boyfriend or not, in the pouring rain? you can’t be that cruel can you?

before you can make up your mind, he speaks up, “i know you’re standing there. open the door,” he demands. 

“satoru, go home,” you sigh, head pressing against the surface that separates you, “don’t make this anymore difficult than it has to be.”

“if it’s difficult, that means you don’t really want to do this,” he argues. he’s still as good as ever at sweet talk, still as persistent and charming as ever at getting what he wants. “please,” he croaks, “just let me in.”

you know it means more than one thing. you know it means more than just your home. but you shouldn’t, you can’t let him know why you did all this—how can you protect someone from something if they don’t let you? satoru would never let you if he knew, and that’s why you can’t let him know. 

“satoru, if you don’t leave…i’ll…i’ll call the cops,” you warn. 

“no you won’t,” he says instantly. “i’m not leaving until you open the door. and if i get sick, i’ll send you my bill for the emergency room visit.”

“you’re not going to the emergency room for a common cold, you idiot,” you scoff. 

the rain doesn’t slow—in fact, you can hear thunder. satoru is still stubbornly outside, knocking away. 

“i’ll start screaming,” he insists, “your neighbors will complain for noise again. do you want to be kicked out of this apartment? just let your cold, wet, heartbroken ex-boyfriend in if you have a heart.”

and because you are, and always will be, weak to the charms of gojo satoru, you open that damned door—even though you shouldn’t, even though you can’t, even though you said you would never again. but you do. because it’s satoru, and he always comes when you call, and you’ll always let him in when he’s here. 

“you don’t come to your ex’s house less than one week after the break up,” you sigh once you open the door. he takes a step in, shutting the door behind him. 

“why did you leave me?” he asks. 

“satoru, you can’t keep bringing this up—”

“why? just tell me why.”

“i don’t have to—”

“tell me why and i’ll stop bothering you. i just need to know why,” he insists. 

and then you break.

you’re only human. you’ve lost the man you’ve given everything to for over a year in the span of one week. you’ll never see his lovely mother again who spoiled you rotten, you’ll never hang out out with his funny best friend who treats you like family, and you’ll never be enough for gojo satoru, the rich, loud, sheltered, obnoxious, handsome jackass you met and had to do a project with and accidentally fucked over and over again until you fell in love. 

so you shove his chest, once, then twice, then a third time, each time getting weaker and weaker than the last as tears slip down your cheeks as you simply break down. “just leave, satoru,” you sob, “why can’t you just leave? why do you keep coming back?”

you hate seeing him here. you want him gone. you never want to see him again. you hope he never leaves. you’re glad to see him. you hope this isn’t the last time. you hate that he seems to not be getting enough sleep. his eyes are hollow. he must not be eating properly. he probably hasn’t attended class. he has a quiz next week. he most likely forgot about that. his clothes are wrinkly. he definitely hasn’t showered in days. 

“last month you said i was it for you,” he glares at you, his eyes red and swollen and every shade of heartbreak. you miss when they were blue—that beautiful, bright, perfect shade of blue. “last week you said we were a mistake. what the fuck do you mean, huh? what are you playing at?”

“you can realize a lot in a month—”

“not enough to erase over a year,” his voice booms. it makes you flinch and hug yourself tightly. tears slide down your cheeks, your vision is blurry. this might be the last time you see satoru, and even if he’s angry, you want to remember the curves of his features. so you wipe them away. they keep coming back. “so tell me,” he clenches his jaw, “did you string me along for a year or did something happen last week that you’re not telling me?”

“i realized you were bad for me,” you say quietly. 

satoru stares at you. it’s a piercing gaze—his eyes are electrically blue and his lashes are unfairly long and every time he stares at you, you think he almost sees into your soul. they’re tired—there are purplish bags under them on that pale skin of his, and the whites of his eyes are concerningly bloodshot. he stares, and stares, and for a second, you think you’ll die like this. watching him stare at you as your heart bleeds out. 

“i spent weeks,” his voice shakes, “i waited outside your class. i followed you to the next one. i memorized your fucking schedule.”

“satoru, you need to leave—”

“and then you fucked me and left every morning like i was nothing,” he glares, sniffling. you don’t know where the rain drops on his face start and where the teardrops end. “and then i begged you for a chance—begged. i burned my hand, got laughed at by the maids to learn how to make those stupid fucking pancakes for you.”

“i didn’t ask you to—”

“it took you two months to call me baby for the first time. did you know that? i waited two months to hear that. i thought it was the best two months i ever waited.”

“satoru,” you plead. 

you’ve given up on trying to wipe away the tears—he’s given up on crying altogether. you’ve never seen him so hollow, so dead in the eyes and so, so tired.

satoru has never gotten tired—not when he’s fighting for you.

“and then you kept pushing me away, acting like i was some shallow guy who wanted to get in your pants and leave cause i had some money to my name. i took you everywhere, introduced you proudly, let everyone say what they wanted to say about me because i loved you, and…and i thought you loved me too,” he shakes his head. 

his voice breaks, and god, so does your heart right along with it.

“i do love you,” you admit it before you realize what you’re saying. 

“then why did you fucking leave me?” his voice is loud.

satoru never yells, not at you. his voice is always gentle, patient, like he worships the ground you walk on, like he’ll get on his knees if you ask him too. satoru never yells—but he does tonight. 

“because i had to,” you sob, fingers digging into your temples as you shake. the words spill from your lips faster than the tears, like a swarm of angry bees, one following after the other. “or you’d lose everything. the trust funds, the inheritance, the company. i couldn’t let that happen to you—not for me,” you whisper. 

it feels like defeat—in the end, you couldn’t keep satoru, and you couldn’t leave him either. you couldn’t love him like you wanted, and you couldn’t let him go like you should have. what else is there left to fuck up? what more can you ruin in less than a week? the bees feel like maggots in your mouth, swarming a dead carcass.  

“so you left me because my old man threatened you with my trust funds?” he asks in disbelief. you think something in satoru dies at that—something in his shoulders falls and his eyes almost seem gray. 

satoru gets his blue eyes from his mother—they’re bright and kind and deeper than the ocean. but unlike the ocean, they’re not scary to fall into, to lose yourself in no matter how far you are from shore. his father’s eyes are gray—cold and blank and not laced with a single hint of emotion. 

you can’t help but think that blue suits satoru so much better than gray ever could. 

“it wasn’t just that,” you shake your head, “that’s not fair, satoru. what was i supposed to do? know you were about to lose everything and stay?”

“you could have talked to me before you decided for me,” he hisses, “what do you want me to say? thank you? thank you for breaking my heart? thank you for making me feel like a worthless piece of shit who wasted a year for someone who didn’t seem to care? thank you for walking out on me?”

“you know i’d have stayed if i could,” you argue, voice breaking.

“then why didn’t you? why the fuck didn’t you?”

“because i couldn’t!”

“you could!” he screams—you realize, for the first time in your life, you hate when satoru screams. he never screams. “all my life, that old man has been making decisions for me. satoru, wear this. satoru, go here. satoru, don’t do that. satoru, put that away. satoru, stay away from them. satoru, come with me. that’s all he’s ever fucking done—make every choice for me. and now…now you’re just like him,” he breathes, lips wobbling as he stares at you with hurt. 

it’s like that for a bit—you stare at him as he crumbles, and he stares at you like he doesn't know you anymore. you don’t know who leans in first, if it’s your hand or his face, but one second you’re feet apart, and the next second his face is cradled in your hands, thumbs swiping away at his tears. you catch them, one by one, waiting to wipe them away no matter how fast they come. because satoru always comes when you call, and you’ll always be there for him to find you. 

“i don’t want to leave,” you mumble, “i never do. you are it for me, i meant that, you know. who else will melt extra chocolate in my hot chocolate?”

“then don’t leave,” he begs, voice cracking, “i don’t want you to. i’ll handle that old geezer—my grandfather will knock some sense into him. fuck, suguru and i can even hide his body, it’s fine. just don’t leave, okay?”

you let out a watery chuckle, pinching his cheek as you shake your head. “i don’t know if i’m worth homicide, satoru.”

“i think you’re wrong,” he huffs, “you’re wrong about a lot of things, you know. so wrong.”

“i never said i was perfect,” you pout.

he buries his head into your neck, clinging to you tightly—you cling back, because nothing is as safe as satoru’s arms. you’d melt into his skin if you could, live in that spot right where his heart is so you can make sure it’s always beating. 

“you’re still perfect,” he mumbles, “but you’re always mean to me. this was the worst you’ve ever been.”

“i’m sorry,” you murmur, slipping your fingers into his hair—it’s still wet, you realize. he’s soaked, and he could catch a cold but you don’t care. satoru is back. he’s here in your run-down apartment with the mugs and the blanket and that toothbrush you forgot to return and that pair of socks you found in your drawer. satoru is finally home. “i’ll never leave you again.”

“promise?”

“yeah. as long as you don’t block me on twitter again.”

“you deserved that.”

“and for the love of god, toru, delete that marvin’s room story. that was so dumb.”

“are you stalking me?” he pulls away with a grin, making you glare with a huff. he chuckles, kisses your forehead as he murmurs, “missed me that bad, huh? yeah, i would too.”

“well, obviously not enough to post marvin’s room on my story.”

“you can’t be mean to me after you broke my heart!” he whines.

yeah, you think, satoru is home. he’s still that loud, obnoxious, pestering brat that he always was—and he’s still the only love you’ve ever known. 

“i love you,” you press your forehead to his, kissing him slowly. you want to kiss him harder, you want to kiss him desperately like you’ll never kiss him again. like you lost him and miraculously got him back. like you’ll never see the sun again without him. 

but there’s time for that—lots of it, in fact. because satoru is home.

“i love you too,” he whispers, “wanna shower with me? if you really love me, you would.”

read the makeup sex sequel ;) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

if this fic was a person i would want it dead.

[shotmrmiller]

Can i get a "Have you seen my- oh," with your roommates johnny and simon who're dating?

Specifically Johnny, because we all know he has house training, just chooses to never show it.

It's midday, you're off from work and you're aching to relieve some stress. Around this time is when Johnny gets ready to go to the gym, so you lock your door and pull your pants down.

Your nerves are stretched thin from work, the heavy traffic, your boss that won't get off your ass about a project that's due 2 weeks from now.

And you haven't gotten laid since the guys moved in- so about a year ago. It doesn't help that they're both too good looking and the icing on that cake is that they're dating each other.

You also feel wrong imagining that it's their hands that touch your chest and slick cunt, but nothing gets you off faster, nowadays.

so with a slightly guilty conscience, your hand travels down to your sex, and begins to draw small, light circles on your bundle of nerves, and slowly sink two clever fingers into your swollen entrance.

The door busts wide open, knob slamming into the back wall. "Hey, bonnie, have you seen my- oh."

You locked the fucking door. Right?

"The door wasn't locked," he quickly explains, but his eyes don't stray from where your hand is.

"I'm sure it wasn't, Johnny. Now please get the fuck out."

He instead steps inside, gently closing the door behind him.

Uh oh.

"Need a hand? Ah promise I'm good with them. My mouth too, ask Simon."

Johnny also doesn't wait for you to answer, just brazenly walks to the corner of the bed and crawls his way over until his warm breath fans over your bare pussy.

"Jus' helpin' a friend in need, aye?"

He moves your hand, hissing when he sees thick strings of arousal on your fingertips and licks a flat stripe from your hole to your swollen clit.

oop.

When Simon comes back from whatever the hell he was doing, you're already asleep in your room, drained from the amount of peaks he brought you to with his fingers and tongue.

Johnny drags Simon into the bedroom and pulls him in for a kiss; sliding his tongue into Simon's mouth.

Simon moans when he gets a taste of what he just knows is you.

Heady arousal is strong on Johnny's tongue- and Simon throbs in his pants, yearning for more.